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    The Prophet
    The Prophet
    The Prophet
    Ebook350 pages5 hours

    The Prophet

    By Amanda Stevens

    4/5

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    About this ebook


    My name is Amelia Gray.

    I am the Graveyard Queen, a cemetery restorer who sees ghosts. My father passed down four rules to keep me safe and I m faced with a terrible choice: follow the rules or follow my heart.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins Publishers Australia
    Release dateJul 1, 2012
    ISBN9781460852330
    The Prophet
    Author

    Amanda Stevens

    Amanda Stevens is an award-winning author of over fifty novels. Born and raised in the rural south, she now resides in Houston, Texas.

    Read more from Amanda Stevens

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    Reviews for The Prophet

    4/5

    139 ratings22 reviews

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    • 5/5
      The ProphetBy: Amanda StevensNarrated by: Khristine HvamThis book ha Amelia back home but what awaits her is the ghosts from book one. She also has one that is stronger. There is also someone that has special supernatural or voodoo type powers. Very suspenseful. Special secrets revealed! Non-stop creepiness! Her private and hallowed, sacred ground that kept things undead out of her house was breached by a ghost! Good creepy book about ghost and creepy people!Great narration!
    • 5/5
      Amanda Stevens' haunting Graveyard Queen series continues with the story of Amelia , Delvin, and his ghosts. I normally don't believe in some of what Stevens writes about in this series, but while I am reading these books not only do I believe but I am along for the ride. It is as if I have left my world behind and entered into the haunted world of The Graveyard Queen. In book 3, Fremont's ghost asks Amelia to find his killer. As she searches for answers she finds much more than she expected. She finds not only Fremont's killer but who really killed Mariama and Shani, too.
    • 5/5
      As much as I enjoyed the second book, but this series delivers itself triumphantly. The only disappointment I had in the series was waiting for the next installment because it simply begging for more.

      While still retaining the gothic horror aura, straight out of the nightmare of her past, this time Amelia is called back to Charleston only to realize that there are far more sinister things that the town kept secret and the ghost that continues to haunt it.

      Emotionally drained from the events in Asher Falls, she came back almost defeated and depressed by everything only to be in Devlin's shadow and scrutiny. Again she became conflicted by her feelings to him which was intervened by the ghost of his wife. Along the line of investigative nature, Amelia was urged by a long dead ghost to find his killer. Along the way, she found trails that leads to a long buried secret.

      Written beautifully along the dark gothic romance atmosphere, Amanda Stevens does it again with her luscious almost descriptive words. Narrated by a haunted woman who just recently found the truth about herself, desiring the norm, she unwillingly brought back into the world of nightmare between life and death.

      If you love those stories and the gameplay of beautiful gothic HOG games, reading this book is almost a perfect complement to it.

      BTW, NBC didnt go on with the tvseries yet but they're making this series into a soap opera. Oh dear... this series is a gem like American Horror Stories (except less gore I suppose). They better not go through with the soap idea. I forbid it.
    • 4/5
      Wow, lots happened in this book. This one was a real game-changer. I won't go into spoilers, suffice it to say I really liked this entry in the series and look forward to reading the next and where the author intends to go from here.
    • 5/5
      I'm loving this series! Although I wish we'd learn a bit more about Amelia's mother & father!!
    • 3/5
      That was a very anticlimactic ending compared to the first two books. I'm a bit disappointed. What happens next? What happened to Angus when Ethan was in Amelia's house? I have more unanswered questions than answered ones. And dammit I wanna know if she still has Angus.
    • 3/5
      Third in The Graveyard Queen series, this tied up some loose ends, but left many more. I understand that there are two more coming in this series, but I may be bored with it by the time it comes out.

      The characters are becoming more familiar over the course of the books, but continue to have the same irritating qualities and don't seem to be growing, at least for me. Amelia is still naive and overly trusting, and continues to follow a path that she has been warned against her entire life. She finally finds out about her birth and her family, and that was gratifying, but there is a chasm between her mother and father than I neither understand or sympathize with.

      The men in her life continue to be on the edge of trouble. She can't forget the man from the last book, while being hopelessly in love with the man from this book (as well as the first). Of course, they are both head over heals with her because she is blond and has a well-toned body from the physical activity required in her job. I get tired of hearing that. Like she has to make an excuse for her trim and toned body.

      I continue to love the dog that Amelia adopted, which she suspects was a "bait" dog in an dog-fighting ring. He is very protective and intuitive, and I like the relationship they have with one another.

      Overall, it was an entertaining read, if not completely satisfying. I may try the next one, and I recommend this one, if you have read the other two.
    • 3/5
      THE PROPHET is the third installment in the spooky Graveyard Queen series. This time around, Amelia is back in Charleston and haunted by the ghost of a murdered police officer. He needs answers, and Amelia won't find any peace until he gets his way. The mystery was good, though the pacing dragged a bit in places.The second book in this series, THE KINGDOM, was my absolute favorite, and THE PROPHET had a hard time measuring up. I'm kinda done with Amelia pining over John Devlin. He needs to go, so she can get back to restoring cemeteries (the coolest job!) and developing her unique abilities. She needs her confidence back! While I did enjoy the surprising twists revealed at the end, overall I thought this one was just okay.
    • 3/5
      From my blogI read this one as a ARC and just couldn't put my thoughts together. This was suppose to be an end to a trilogy and was so successful, it is now being continued as a series. I was absolutely loving The Graveyard Series, but unfortunately for me this felt like a transition novel, it didn't meet expectations and I was bored at times, so disappointed.The creepiness is still there and done well, you can feel the presence of the ghosts and the eerie atmospheres. Can a ghost manipulate, blackmail and make you feel emotions you don't understand, absolutely, especially when you are Amelia.I couldn't wait to read more about Amelia and Delvin, well that suspense was for nothing, but in the end I felt maybe that is for the next installment. Delvin is still haunted by his wife and child, this is done very well. Amelia doesn't follow the rules her father taught her, she has tempted fate, hmm, I can't wait for the overall consequences of this throughout the rest of the series. Amelia is still learning who she is and why ghost come to her. The Prophet does come together for this meaning and Amelia is fighting with understanding her past and her future. I do think Amanda Stevens is a great author and I love the characters. I am very excited to read more of this series and think the next book will be amazing. Her fans of course are happy but I think the decision may have came to late in the writing of this one. Favourite quoteBut no rationale could convince me that the one crawling on my shoe had been an accident. I no longer believed in the randomness of the universe or the happenstance of everyday occurrences. Everything happened for a reason, and I was very much afraid this current synchronicity would be the death of me.
    • 4/5
      Well, well, well... I hear this is not the end of the series, but do we ever find out if there were some lasting effects of the gray powder and Amelia's foray to the other side? And what of Devlin's lasting effects? At last we get some closure in regard to Devlin and Amelia's "relationship" but I still feel like things are not settled completely between them. Lots of loose strings that need to be settled. I love these modern day Southern paranormal mysteries on audio, narrated by Khristine Hvam. I highly recommend it them for she gives you a real good flavor of that Southern Charleston feel. Makes me want to go there - now! The Charleston drawl, the Gullah people and everything else about that city and it's environs. A worthwhile read - and a TV series in the making? *gulp*
    • 4/5
      From NetgalleyThe Prophet by Amanda Stevens picks up right where The Kingdom left off. Amelia leaves Asher Falls behind to deal with some unfinished business in Charleston. The third installments answers some much needed questions and gives the reader more insight to our complex Amelia Gray. Resident ghost seer Amelia Gray returns to her hometown in Charleston to get some answers from her family and to determine if a future with Devlin is a possibility. We meet old friends and are introduced to new ones. While questioning her relationship with the haunted Devlin, Amelia promises to find the murderer of a ghost who has been haunting her. I really enjoyed this book, maybe more than The Kingdom. Amelia is back on familiar ground after she receives a mysterious text. In this book, we are reunited with characters from the first novel who are key players in the plot. Like I've stated in my reviews for the preceding novels, Amanda Stevens knows how to make a book spooky. While the plot is not complex nor is it driven by action, it is interesting enough to keep you coming back for more. And the plot is simple enough that you don't have try to remember what happened to who and how. I really enjoyed the pacing of the novel, I felt that it lent itself to the overall creepiness of the novel. The characters are exceptional as always. Amelia is a great complex heroine who does not let her emotions dictate how she reacts to certain situations. She is extremely logical but not logical to a fault. I feel like I am repeating myself because the same praise I am giving The Prophet can be found in my last two reviews of the Graveyard Queen series. Everyone is so real and believable, they react as you would expect a person in a situation to react and mirror real life every closely. I can't even talk about the writing without copying and pasting everything I have said in previous reviews! The writing lends itself to the creepiness of the novel and the writing style keeps the reader coming back for more even though this is not an action book. Stevens' command with words is such that you can easily digest the book within a day or two. I really enjoyed this novel and I hope that it isn't the last in the series! I can never have enough of Amelia and Devlin!
    • 4/5
      Good book but a bit creepy. I am nor sure if I would read more books in this series unless it was to better understand some of the references.
    • 5/5
      Another great entry in the Graveyard Queen mysteries. This one takes the reader back to Charleston to confront Amelia's past and try to resolve things with her police detective. Love the settings and the characters.
    • 3/5
      After being so wonderfully caught up in the atmospheric and entertaining second book of the Graveyard Queen series, The Kingdom, I ignored my schedule and plunged straight into The Prophet. Picking up just a short time after Amelia returns to Charleston after receiving a text from Detective Devlin proclaiming his need for her, The Prophet sees Amelia struggling to find her feet. Her experiences at Asher Falls have raised more questions than answers and Amelia feels lost and vulnerable.Unfortunately, The Prophet failed to be as mesmerising as The Kingdom as Amelia succumbed to constant self doubt and self pity. I lost count of how many times Amelia repeated she was breaking her father's rules, but it was far too many. She was also either frozen or paralysed with fear whenever something began to happen or alternatively, helpless because of the effects of the voodoo drug wielded by the mysterious Darius. Amelia's lack of drive and action irritated me, she just seemed so deliberately passive instead of actively seeking answers.I wanted her investigation into Robert Freeman's death to be an active one but mostly she seemed to waft around waiting for something to happen. Partly I think because she spent a lot of time agonising over Devlin, but their complicated relationship wasn't enough to sustain me.The sense of atmosphere in The Prophet was not as strong as in The Kingdom but it does remain a feature of this series, the hair stood up on the back of my neck as messages appeared in steam and the swing moved back and forth in the stillness of moonlight. Stevens truly has a way with words, her writing is evocative and enchanting.I am glad that the Graveyard Queen series has been extended, originally it was a trilogy, but there will be at least a fourth with a possibility of a fifth book from what I understand. Hopefully I will find the next installment as engrossing as The Kingdom.
    • 3/5
      3 STARSThis is the third book in the series. I have read the second and now this one.Parts of the story I got lost in and understand it all. Which could be because I did not read the first one.Amelia Gray restores cematarys and sees ghosts. She has pretended not to let them know she can see them or react to them. Her father warned her to never react to them. But the first book she did something that changed the rules on her.She fell for Devlin in first book but all of the ghosts around him draineed her. His dead wife, hated her with a passion and actualy pushed her down. His dead little girl wanted Amelia to help her some how and would hold her hand. Another ghost wanted her to find his killer so he could move on.Devlin does not belive in ghosts. He really misses his daughter.Their are talk about different powers like voodue & rootwork things I don't understand.Even though Amelia talks about her love of Devlin thier is not much business of them even being together.I was given this ebook to read in exchange of honest review from Netgalley.04/24/2012 PUB Harlequin HarlequinMira
    • 5/5
      This third book in the Graveyard Queen series was filled with the same Gothic creepiness that infused the first two volumes. If you haven't read the first two books in the series, you might want to stop reading now and quickly find yourself copies of The Restorer and The Kingdom because this story begins shortly after the events of The Kingdom.Amelia is back in Charleston. She quickly gets back involved in the life of John Devlin. John is a Charleston police detective that she met during The Restorer. They had started a romance but Amelia ended it because John was still being haunted by his dead wife and daughter. Losing Miriama and Shani left him feeling both grief and guilt. Seeing ghosts herself, Amelia had been raised by his father to never have anything to do with a haunted man. Getting close to Devlin, allowed other ghosts to come to her too. In the mythology of this story, ghosts are like "parasites drawn to our energy, feeding off our warmth. If they know you can see them, they'll cling to you like blight. You'll never be rid of them. And your life will never again be your own." The most persistent and least ghostlike of the ghosts that haunt Amelia is Robert Fremont. He, Devlin, and Tom Gerrity all graduated from the police academy together. He and Devlin were rivals for the affection of Devlin's dead wife. He wants Amelia to find out who murdered him. Amelia is also haunted by and sympathetic to Shani who was Devlin's four-year-old daughter. Her efforts to find Robert Fremont's muderer and find a way to send Shani to her rest lead Amelia to explore a lot of the ancient African beliefs of the Charleston area. She has to deal with spells, and potions, and magical visitors. She also manages to learn a lot about the relationships between Devlin, Fremont, Gerrity, and Ethan Shaw. Shaw is another forensic anthropologist and the son of a paranormal investigator who has been acting as a mentor to Amelia.As Amelia untangles the twisted relationships between all the players and delves more into the magic around her, the creepy atmosphere gets even more intense. This was an excellent mystery with wonderful paranormal aspects. I recommend it to fans of ghost stories.
    • 4/5
      This is the third book in the Graveyard Queen series by Stevens. I've heard rumors that a fourth book is planned for this series but haven't found the title yet. I got an advanced reading copy of this book to review through NetGalley(dot)com. This was a very good addition to the series, I did think it was the weakest book of the series, but given how much I loved the last two book in this series...this book was still a good book.Amelia returns to Charleston somewhat beat up about everything that happened during The Kingdom. She is happy to be able to be near Devlin again, but unsure of her reception. Things start getting complicated for Amelia right away. Devlin's daughter constantly haunts Amelia pleading for help and then another ghost blackmails Amelia into hunting down his killer. The mystery draws Amelia deep into the dark side of Charleston; full of root doctors and other questionable magic.The writing in this book is just as beautiful and haunting as in the previous books and I really enjoyed it. There is an interesting mystery and it ends up being somewhat complex but is intriguing to read about.I did have some problems with this book though. Amelia doesn't spend much time doing cemetary restoration; not like she did in the last two books. The history and strange peacefulness that accompany the cemetary restoration scenes are part of what drew me to this series, it is just such an interesting career. So I was disappointed that we don't' get to read much about the cemetery restoration in this book.This book also did not have as high of an eerie or creepiness factor as previous books in the series. I love that this series has been creepy and strange without getting super scary. This book was more of a mystery and had less of a creepy gothic overtone than previous books.The last problem I had was Amelia herself. When she is around Devlin she gets so...well...weak. She lets Devlin make all of the decisions and her personality seems to fade in his presence. After all the backbone she shows in The Kingdom I didn't enjoy seeing her like this. It made me kind of sad that this was where she ended up. Devlin is kind of a secretive jerk at times in this book and I didn't like how Amelia just put up with it.The above complaints aside, this book was still a beautifully written and well done mystery. A lot of the strands that were presented in the first two books are nicely tied together and wrapped up in this book. It was just that a lot of the things that made this series really special to me weren't as present as they were in the last two books.Overall this was a good addition to the series. There is a lot of great mystery in here and a lot of questions answered. The writing is absolutely beautiful. Amelia seems weaker than in the last book and doesn't spend as much time doing cemetary restoration. The gothic creepiness factor was less than in previous books as well. So there is some good and some bad here; but overall I think this is the weakest book in the series so far. I am curious to see if there is a fourth book and, if so, where this story ends up going. I would recommend to people who were fans of the first two books. I also recommend to those who like a gothic tone to their urban fantasy.
    • 4/5
      The Prophet is the third book in The Graveyard Queen series by Amanda Stevens.

      After almost losing her life in Asher Falls (The Kingdom) Amelia is back in Charleston recovering and trying to assimilate everything she learned about her past and origins. She knows her actions have consequences but she never thought not following her father’s rules will have that much repercussions.
      “Never acknowledge the Dead. Never stray from hallowed ground. Never associate with the haunted. Never tempt fate.”
      Soon after her arrival to Charleston the ghost of Robert Freemont approaches her. He wants her to help him find his killer; he helped her once (The Restorer), now he wants her to pay back the favor and he won’t stop haunting her until she accepts. Amelia is forced to say yes, not only she feels obligated, but for some reason Freemont can approach her in holy ground, her house that was her unbreachable haven is not offering the same security that once had. To add to this, Devlin’s daughter, Shani is also haunting Amelia and requesting her help and if that wasn’t enough for poor Amelia Mariama’s ghost is doing her best to keep her away from Devlin, even taking her to a house where she sees Devlin in the arms of another woman.

      The Prophet wasn’t as creepy and scary as The Kingdom but still it had a good dose of spookiness.

      In this book Amelia is doing everything contrary to what she once believed. She is going against her father’s rules, but that’s the only way to achieve what she must. I loved Amelia in previous books but in this one I didn’t like the woman she becomes when Devlin is around, She feels weak and becomes a shadow of her old self. I understand their almost metaphysical connection but still I don’t like them together and that was my big issue with this book.
      Devlin is still the same Devlin from The Restorer, dark, moody and secretive. We learned more about him and his life with Mariama, but still there are many questions left unanswered and not enough for me to like him.

      I’ve loved Robert Freemont since The Restorer, he is a very mysterious character/ghost that was able to do the unexplainable. The mystery behind his death and the circumstances around it were well done and even though I had my suspicions about whom the killer was the why of it was a complete surprise.

      Another character I loved in this series and especially this book is the child ghost of Shani, I really wanted Amelia to help her find her peace, although I didn’t agree with the method Amelia used to do it, I kind of understood there was no other option. The resolution to Shani’s case was more than acceptable; it was perfect and completely unexpected.

      New characters were introduced in this book; from those the one that gave me the willies was Mariama’s cousin Darius Goodwine. He is a dark magic practitioner with an agenda; if that wasn’t enough I think he knows more about Amelia than what she knows about herself. He did things in this book that were impossible to understand, his actions were sometimes contradictory to what I was expecting but I guess this is where his dark plans come in. I’m sure he will play an important role in books to come and I really can’t wait to see what Mrs. Stevens has planned for him.

      Even though The Prophet was not my favorite book in this series I can honestly say it is still a great book. All the elements that made Mrs. Stevens’ writing magical are still present in this book. Her words are fluid and evocative. The plot moves at a good place, the mystery is well done and with many twist and turns that it will leave you scratching your head and saying: “I didn’t see that one coming” time after time. Many questions are answered in this book, but many others are left open. Like what it was said by more than one character about Amelia, that she didn’t know what she truly was and what she was able to do. I really hope to find out more about this in future books.

      I recommend you this book as I have recommended you previous books, especially if you like modern gothics, paranormal fiction or a good book with a nice dose of mystery.
      You should read these books in order and preferably during daytime is you are easily scared.
    • 3/5
      The Prophet by Amanda Stevens

      ★ ★ ★

      This is the 3rd book in the Graveyard Queen series. And while still good, definitely my least favorite of the three. It just felt fairly anti-climatic compared to the other two and I felt it tried to add in too many new plots for such a short book. It may or may not be the end of the series. Given the ending, it seems like it might be but one never knows. I'm sure it matters how well the series sells. Unlike in the other two books, I found myself somewhat annoyed with the main character, Amelia, this time around. There just seemed to be too much “I shouldn't do that. Instincts say I shouldn't but I will. Knowing it's stupid.” But overall I still enjoyed the series and I was glad at the return of Devlin.
    • 4/5
      The Prophet
      4.5 Stars

      The Prophet is book #3 but it continues from where book #1, The Restorer, left off in terms of Amelia's relationship with Devlin and the issues surrounding the deaths of his wife and daughter.

      Although Amelia is an engaging heroine, she has an annoying tendency toward TSTL behavior, particularly in this book. She constantly ignores her instincts and finds herself in precarious situations and the only explanation is that her actions are necessary for the story to progress as they ultimately lead to a revelation of some kind.

      Devlin is as dark and tortured as ever. The fact that he is not in book two (although there are many references to him and Amelia's feelings for him), only enhances the anticipation and makes his return all the more worthwhile. The connection between Amelia and Devlin is breathtaking in its intensity and despite some questionable moments, the reader's patience is rewarded once they take it to the next level.

      The story involving Amelia's investigation into the death of a murdered cop and her attempts to help Devlin's daughter is absorbing, and Stevens is very skilled at concealing the clues to unraveling the mystery within the seemingly mundane. As a result, a character that aroused my suspicions in book #1 (and turned out not to be the killer) ended up being the culprit in this book. It is rewarding to know that my suspicions were justified even if it was not in the right book.

      The references to voodoo, black magic and the menacing villain all add an additional sinister layer to the creepy tone and eerie atmosphere of the Southern gothic setting. Nevertheless, the ending is a bit rushed although the mystery is neatly solved and well explained. Some tantalizing questions remain unanswered such as is Mariama truly gone? Will Devlin learn of her treachery? Did Amelia or Devlin bring something back with them from the other side? What is Darius Goodwin's endgame?

      In sum, an exciting addition and I look forward to finding out where Amelia's abilities take her.
    • 4/5
      Received from NetGalley for review.Book three in a series.This book focuses on Amelia and John Devlin. I read this book without the benefit of reading the first two in the series. That's a mistake. If you choose to read this book, and I encourage you to, pick up the first two and read them before attempting The Prophet. I have since read both and then reread The Prophet, enjoying it much more.A wonderfully written story. Amelia is a great character. Imagine, a Graveyard Queen! And I just love the role of Devlin.Oh, and ghosts!!!! I love reading about ghosts.Upon finishing this book, I have several unanswered questions. I look forward to the next book to find out what happens with Amelia and Devlin. 4 stars
    • 5/5
      This third book brings Amelia back to the setting of the first one. A lot of familiar names and faces crop up with a good number of the (surviving) characters from The Restorer making a reappearance, however brief. Reading it, it almost felt as though the events second book was merely an interlude as although the events are alluded to, they didn’t play a part in this plot.The notion of the malevolent entity that Amelia calls Evil was introduced as being the consequence she has to face for ignoring her father’s rules. There was, however, no mention of it in this book. The ghosts made a comeback – though with things revolving around John Devlin again that was to be expected. That said, there is an unexpected surprise involving Shani’s ghost. It’s a shame that Evil wasn’t expanded on – I would have liked to have learnt more about it.Traditional African spiritual beliefs are also introduced in this book in the form of Mariama Goodwine’s cousin. An awful lot of research must have gone into putting all of this together and I was utterly fascinated by all the lore. It was really interesting and a good look into the beliefs surrounding death in another – very different – culture.The Prophet chronicles Amelia’s investigation into who killed the cop we met as a ghost in The Restorer. He wants release and he’s willing to go so far as to haunt Amelia to get her to do this for him. What’s more, it would seem that whatever message Shani is desperately trying to communicate to her father is also of great importance and the plot soon becomes a mix of unravelling the both mysteries.This is another way that this third book is very different from the other two. In those, Amelia spends a lot of her time working in graveyards but comparatively little time was spent in one in this book. This meant in turn that there were fewer spine-tingling moments. I’m not sure that my adrenaline really got pumping while reading this one as it did when I was caught up in the other two. Rather, I was pushing on in the mad desire to see where the relationship between Amelia and Devlin would lead. I wouldn’t say that this is a bad thing, just different. As such, it may not work for everyone, especially readers who were more caught up in the graveyard aspect of the books than the romance subplot.John Devlin is of course back. The scenes between him and Amelia were everything I could have hoped for and more. I was right when I said that Thane Asher was just a diversion to allow Amelia to grow and that it would all be about Devlin in the long run. Even Amelia admits this to herself, and later Devlin, this time around. Of course, his dead wife’s spectre looming over them does tend to put a stopper on things.The truth about who Mariama really was comes out bit by bit here. Unfortunately, what we know of her (that she’s a malevolent spirit unwilling to pass on, using the ghost of her child as a tether to the realm of the living and intent on making Devlin’s life a misery) clashes with what various people tell us of her from before her death (that everybody loved her). I just couldn’t quite bring myself to buy this. It would have been made more believable if there had been even just one character who hadn’t thought the world of Mariama at some point.As for the mystery itself, I found that I’d unravelled this one as of early on in the book (which wasn’t the case in either of the first two books) and there weren’t ever really any big, unexpected shocks. A number of things did go unanswered, though, such as why Darius Goodwine chose to return now. In fact, a lot about Darius Goodwine remains unclear. Some of it is understandable, such as the mystery surrounding his traditional practises and the sway he holds over people, but it would have been nice if some things were made clear, such as whether or not he was actually a bad guy.The ending was the only thing that I didn’t like about the book. It felt uncomfortably rushed. There had been a good few slower moments leading up to this finale, but when it finally took place, a huge number of things seemed to all happen at once – too many for me to fully take everything in and I was left feeling dissatisfied, much as I hate to say it.I had thought that The Graveyard Queen was a trilogy for some reason, but having finished this book it is blatantly obvious to me now that there are still any number of questions left to be explored. I’m definitely looking forward to where things will take Amelia and Devlin next.

    Book preview

    The Prophet - Amanda Stevens

    Chapter One

    Something had been following me for days. Whether it was human, ghost or an in-between—like me—I had no idea. I’d never caught more than a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. No more than a flicker of light or a fleeting shadow. But it was there even now, in my periphery. A darkness that kept pace. Turning when I turned. Slowing when I slowed.

    I steadied my gait even as my heart raced, and I berated myself for having strayed too far from hallowed ground. I’d lingered too long at my favorite market, and now it was nearing on twilight, that dangerous time when the veil thinned, allowing those greedy, grasping entities to drift through into our world, seeking what they could never have again.

    From the time I was nine, my father had taught me how to protect myself from the parasitic nature of ghosts, but I’d broken his every rule. I’d fallen in love with a haunted man, and now a door had been opened, allowing the Others to come through. Allowing evil to find me.

    A car thundered down the street, and I tensed even as I welcomed such a normal sound. But the roar of the engine faded too quickly, and the ensuing quiet seemed ominous. The rush hour traffic had already waned, and the street was unusually devoid of pedestrians and runners. I had the sidewalk all to myself. It was as if everything had faded into the background, and the scope of my world narrowed to the thud of my footsteps and heartbeats.

    I shifted the shopping bag to my other hand, allowing for a quick sweep to my left where the sun had set over the Ashley River. The mottled sky flamed like embers from a dying fire, the light casting a golden radiance over the spires and steeples that dotted the low skyline of the City of Churches.

    It was good to be back in my beloved Charleston, but I’d been on edge ever since my return, the raw nerves a symptom of the emotional and physical trauma I’d suffered during a cemetery restoration in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. But there was another reason I couldn’t eat or sleep, a deeper unease that made me pace restlessly until all hours.

    I drew a quivering breath.

    Devlin.

    The haunted police detective I couldn’t get out of my mind or my heart. The mere thought of him was like a dark caress, a forbidden kiss. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear the whisper of his aristocratic drawl, that slow, seductive cadence. With very little effort, I could conjure the scorching demand of his perfect mouth on mine…the honeyed trail of his tongue…those graceful, questing hands… .

    Returning my focus to the street, I glanced over my shoulder. Whatever stalked me had fallen back or disappeared, and my fear eased as it always did when I neared hallowed ground.

    Then, a bird called from somewhere in the high branches, the sound so startling I stopped in my tracks to listen. I’d heard that trill once before in the evening shadows of a courtyard in Paris. The serenade was like no other. Gentle and dreamy. Like floating in a warm, candlelit bath. I would have thought it a nightingale, but they were indigenous to Europe and by now would have made the three-thousand mile trek to Africa for the winter.

    In the wake of the songbird, a fragrance floated down to me, something lush and exotic. Neither sound nor scent belonged to this city—perhaps even to this world—and a warning prickled my scalp.

    I heard a whisper and turned, almost expecting to see Devlin emerge from the shadows the way he’d appeared to me from the mist on the night we met. I could still see him as he was then—an enigmatic stranger, one so darkly handsome and brooding he might have stepped straight from my adolescent fantasies.

    But Devlin wasn’t behind me. At this hour, he was probably still at police headquarters. I’d heard nothing more than the rustle of leaves, I told myself. The phantom whisper of my own longing.

    And then, distantly, a child’s laughter drifted over me, followed by a soft chant. Somehow I recognized the voice even though I had never heard it before, and an image of Devlin’s dead daughter formed in my mind as clearly as if she stood before me.

    Papa would have warned me to remember the rules. I recited them to myself as I turned slowly to scour the gathering twilight: Never acknowledge the dead, never stray far from hallowed ground, never associate with the haunted and never, ever tempt fate.

    The ghost child’s voice came to me again. Come find me, Amelia!

    Why I didn’t ignore her and continue on my way, I had no idea. I must have been enchanted. That was the only possible explanation.

    The nightingale crooned to me as I left the sidewalk and followed a narrow alley to where an ornate gate opened into the walled garden of a private home. By entering, I ran the risk of being shot on sight for trespassing. Charlestonians loved their guns. But the danger didn’t stop me, nor did Papa’s rules because I’d fallen under that strange hypnotic spell.

    Months ago, when I’d first seen Shani’s ghost hovering at Devlin’s side, she’d tried to make contact. That was why she’d followed me home that first night and left a tiny garnet ring in my garden. That ring had been a message just as surely as the heart she’d traced on my window. She wanted to tell me something… .

    This way. Hurry! Before she comes… .

    An icy foreboding clutched my spine. Danger was all around me. I could feel it closing in, but still I kept going, following the nightingale and that tantalizing scent through a maze of boxwood hedges and palmettos, through trails of evening primrose and midnight candy. The trickle of a fountain mingled with Shani’s ethereal laughter and then the hair on my nape lifted as she started to chant:

    "Little Dicky Dilver

    Had a wife of silver.

    He took a stick and broke her back,

    And sold her to a miller.

    The Miller wouldn’t have her,

    So he threw her in the river."

    It was a ghastly rhyme, one that I hadn’t heard in years, and the lines were made even more grotesque by the innocence of Shani’s singsong.

    Fighting that sinister lethargy, I turned to retrace my steps to the gate, but she’d materialized on the walkway behind me, a mere shimmer of light at first, and then slowly the outline of a child began to take shape as the garden grew colder. I was scared—terrified, actually—and I knew that I was treading on dangerous territory. I was not only acknowledging the dead, but also tempting fate.

    None of that seemed to matter at the moment. I couldn’t turn away. I couldn’t tear my gaze from that delicate specter that now barred my exit.

    She wore a blue dress with a matching ribbon in her hair and a sprig of jasmine tucked into the lace trim at her waist. A mane of wiry curls framed her tiny face, giving her a winsome loveliness that stole my breath. She was lit by the softest of auras, silvery and diaphanous, but her features were clear to me. The high cheekbones, the dark eyes, the café-au-lait complexion spoke to her Creole heritage, and I fancied I could see a bit of her mother in that gossamer visage. But not Devlin. The Goodwine influence was far too dominant.

    Very deliberately, the ghost child plucked the stem of jasmine from the lace and held it out to me.

    I knew better than to take it. The only way to deal with ghosts was to ignore them, pretend not to see them.

    But it was too late for that. Almost of its own volition, my hand lifted and I reached for the flowers.

    The ghost floated closer—too close—until I could feel the death chill emanating from her tiny form. My fingers brushed the creamy blossoms she held out. The petals felt real to me, as warm and supple as my own skin. How that could be so, I had no idea. She had brought them with her from the other side. The blooms should have been withering.

    For you.

    She didn’t speak but I heard her just the same. Her voice in my head was sweet and lyrical, like the faint tinkle of a crystal bell. I lifted the jasmine to my nose and let the heady perfume fill my senses.

    Will you help me?

    Help you…how? I heard myself ask her. My own voice sounded distant and hollow, like an echo.

    She lifted a tiny finger to her lips.

    What’s wrong?

    She seemed to fade as the air in the garden trembled and shifted. My heart was still racing, and I could see the rime of my breath mingling with a milky vapor that curled up out of the shadows. There was an odd copper taste in my mouth as if I had bitten my tongue. I felt no pain. I felt nothing at all except an icy fear that metastasized from my chest down into my limbs, paralyzing me.

    The jasmine slipped through my numb fingers as the hair at my nape bristled. The night went deadly silent. Everything in the garden stilled except for that coil of mist. I watched, mesmerized, as it slithered toward me, twisting and writhing like a charmed cobra. The tension humming along my nerve endings was unbearable, as if the lightest touch could shatter me.

    But when the contact came, it wasn’t light at all. The blow was quick and brutal, propelling me backward with such force, I lost my balance. Tripping over a small garden statue, I went sprawling. The ceramic cherub shattered on the stone pavers, and a moment later, the sound of voices inside the house dimly registered. A part of me knew the residents must have heard the racket, but my attention was still riveted on the walkway. Another entity had formed in the garden, and she hovered over me, dead eyes blazing in the deepening twilight.

    Mariama. The ghost child’s mother. Devlin’s deceased wife.

    In one petrified moment, I took in the filmy swirl of her dress, the bare feet, the hedonistic spill of curls down her back. And that mocking smile. Terrifyingly seductive. Even in death, Mariama’s mystique was pervasive, palpable. And so was her cunning.

    Something Devlin had once told me about her flitted through my mind. According to her beliefs, a person’s power wasn’t diminished by death. A bad or sudden passing could result in an angry spirit wielding enough force to come back and interfere with the lives of the living, even enslave them in some cases. I had always wondered if that was her intent. To keep Devlin shackled to her with his grief and guilt. She sustained her existence on this side of the veil by devouring his warmth and energy, but the moment he let her go, the moment he started to forget, would she simply fade away?

    I huddled there shivering, scolding myself for having followed Shani’s voice and that strange songbird. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be lured into that garden. This was Mariama’s doing. I understood that now. She was interfering in my life, warning me to stay away from Devlin.

    I felt a sting and looked down to find my hand covered in ants. I shook them off as I scrambled to my feet. In that brief moment when my eyes left the ghosts, they’d vanished, leaving nothing but a lingering frost in their wake.

    The back door opened, and a woman stepped out on the porch. Who’s there? she demanded. She didn’t sound frightened at all, merely annoyed.

    I didn’t know how to explain my presence in her garden so I grabbed my shopping bag and ducked behind a stand of azaleas even though I felt like a coward for doing so. I saw her shiver as she pulled a sweater around her body and gazed out into the shadows.

    If I hadn’t still been so shaken by the ghostly encounter, I might have made my presence known instead of skulking in the bushes like a thief. I could have made up some story, told the woman that I’d chased my cat through her gate, then offered to pay for the broken statue. I was on the verge of doing exactly that when I spotted the silhouette of a man behind her in the doorway.

    I thought I heard something, she said over her shoulder, and then he came out on the porch to join her.

    My heart contracted as though from another powerful blow. I recognized the man, her companion. It was Devlin. My Devlin.

    Now I knew why I had been enticed into this garden. I had been meant to see this.

    Mariama appeared at Devlin’s side, and I could feel her glacial eyes on me, taunting and mesmeric. Her hair tangled in the breeze, and the gauzy hem of her sundress wrapped snakelike around her legs. I could see right through her, and yet, she seemed at that moment as vital as any living thing.

    Her hand lifted to Devlin’s face, and she stroked his cheek, slowly, possessively, her gaze focused on mine. I didn’t hear her in my head the way I’d heard Shani, but her message was clear just the same. She would never let him go.

    My chest contracted painfully, as though an invisible hand had reached inside my chest and gripped my heart. I sucked in air, willing my heartbeats to slow even as my legs trembled and weakened. Something horrifying was happening to me in that garden. I was being drained, my warmth and energy usurped by an entity that had made me her enemy.

    Papa had cautioned me so many times:

    What the dead want more than anything is to be a part of our world again. They’re like parasites drawn to our energy, feeding off our warmth. If they know you can see them, they’ll cling to you like blight. You’ll never be rid of them. And your life will never again be your own.

    The ghost laughed at me now as though she’d heard Papa’s warning, too.

    Shani materialized on the other side of her father and tapped his leg, willing his attention. He never looked down, never so much as flinched. He couldn’t feel her. He hadn’t a clue she was there. His focus was entirely on the brunette. He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her narrow waist. Her head dropped back to his shoulder, and the intimate murmur of their voices drifted across the garden to where I crouched in my hiding place.

    He didn’t kiss or caress her the way a lover might. Instead, he just stood there holding her as his ghosts floated around them.

    I couldn’t move or breathe. I couldn’t look away even though it was quite possibly the worst moment of my life.

    * * *

    After a few moments, Devlin went back inside and his ghosts vanished. But the woman lingered, her gaze scanning the twilight as though she could sense my presence. I didn’t dare move for fear of drawing her attention, but I was dying to get a better look at her. I could see little more than a shapely silhouette with a spill of dark, glossy hair over her shoulders. I knew she was attractive, though. She had an air about her, a certain vibe common to beautiful women.

    She remained on the porch for several long minutes before following Devlin inside. I waited breathlessly to make sure neither of them came back out, then bolted from the garden and fled down the alley with barely a thought to my previous stalker.

    I was so distraught by the sight of Devlin with another woman that I let down my guard and that wasn’t at all like me. Living with ghosts necessitated vigilance, but as I hurried toward the street, my mind remained in that strange garden and the lapse cost me. The looming shadow appeared out of nowhere and the next thing I knew, I was grabbed roughly and shoved up against the stone wall, a forearm jammed to my throat.

    The pressure on my windpipe precluded a gasp, much less a scream, but the attack was over in the space of a heartbeat. Even as I flailed for the mace I carried in my pocket, the assailant was already backing away. The arm dropped from my throat and I heard a sharp intake of breath. Then incredulously, Amelia?

    Devlin.

    I was so gobsmacked by his nearness, I couldn’t utter a word. It had been months since I’d last seen him, but he’d visited my sleep nearly every night of our estrangement. Those dark, lush dreams allowed me to play out my every fantasy about him, but now I realized what a pale substitute the visions had been. Even with him standing there looking down at me so warily, I could think of little more than how much I still craved his touch. How much I’d missed his kisses.

    Are you all right? he asked quickly.

    Oh, that voice! That low, silky, old-world drawl that would always be my undoing.

    I swallowed with some difficulty. Yes, I think so.

    What on earth are you doing out here? And why didn’t you say something? I might have hurt you. He sounded a bit rattled himself.

    You didn’t give me a chance, I said defensively. Do you always grab people without reason?

    I had a reason. I was visiting a friend and we thought we heard someone in the garden.

    You mean a prowler? How completely innocent I sounded.

    There was a curious hesitation, then, Yes, a prowler. I circled around to head him off. He glanced past me up the alley. You didn’t see anyone come out of here, did you?

    I shook my head as my heart continued to hammer.

    What about on the street? Did you notice anyone lurking about?

    I didn’t see anything.

    His gaze was still on me, dark and probing. Your turn, then. What are you doing here?

    I…was just on my way home from the market. Lamely, I held up my shopping bag.

    You’re a little off course, aren’t you?

    You mean the alley? I moistened dry lips. I heard something, too, so I decided to investigate.

    His head came up and I sensed a sudden tension. What did you hear?

    It sounds crazy now, I said reluctantly.

    He took my arm and a chill went through me, half alarm, half desire. Tell me.

    I heard a songbird.

    A songbird? Under other circumstances, his utter bewilderment might have been amusing.

    It sounded like a nightingale.

    His grasp tightened almost imperceptibly and I could have sworn I saw a shadow sweep across his handsome features. Impossible, of course. Dusk was upon us and I could make out little more than the gleam of his eyes, but I had the distinct impression that my words had touched a nerve.

    There are no nightingales in this part of the world, he said. You must have heard a mockingbird.

    I thought of that. But when I was in Paris, nightingales sang almost every evening in the courtyard of my hotel. Their trill is very distinct.

    His tone sharpened. I know what they sound like. I heard the damn things often enough in Africa.

    Yet another detail I hadn’t known about him. When were you in Africa?

    A lifetime ago, he muttered as he tilted his head to stare up into the trees.

    Now I was the one utterly mystified. Why does it matter what kind of bird it was?

    Because if you heard a nightingale in Charleston— He broke off, his head snapping around at the soft snick of a gate. Then he drew me to him quickly, dancing us both back into the shadows along the fence. I was too startled too protest. Not that I had any desire to. The adrenaline pulsing through my bloodstream was intoxicating, and my hand crept to the lapel of his jacket, clinging for a moment until a woman’s voice invaded our paradise.

    John? Are you out here?

    When he didn’t immediately answer, I slanted my head to stare up at him. Our faces were very close. So close I had only to tiptoe to touch my lips to his—

    I’m here, he called.

    Is everything okay? she asked anxiously.

    Yes, fine. I’ll be there in a minute.

    Hurry in. I heard the gate close behind her and a second later, the back door of the house slammed. But Devlin and I were far from alone. A breeze stirred, whispering through the leaves, and I felt the unnatural cold of his ghosts. I couldn’t see them, but they were there somewhere, floating in the shadows, driving a wedge between us just as surely as the unknown woman’s husky voice.

    Devlin still held me, but now there was a distance between us. An uncomfortable chasm that made me retreat into myself. I should be going.

    Let me drive you home, he said. It’s almost dark out.

    No, but thank you. It’s only a few blocks and this is a safe neighborhood.

    Safe is a relative term.

    How well I knew.

    I’ll be fine. I was already walking away when he said my name, so softly I was tempted to ignore the entreaty for fear I’d only imagined it. I turned and said on a breath, Yes?

    His dark eyes shimmered in the fading light. It was a mockingbird you heard. It couldn’t have been a nightingale.

    My heart fell and I nodded. If you say so.

    Chapter Two

    Devlin didn’t call out to me again and I never glanced back. But the warmth of his touch lingered as did the frost of his ghosts. I’d spent many a sleepless night trying to convince myself that as long as I kept my distance, his ghosts wouldn’t be a threat to me. After tonight I could no longer delude myself. I had done nothing to lure them back into my life. They had come despite my best efforts, and I hadn’t a clue how to rid myself of them.

    Shani had implored me to help her, and even now the memory of her voice in my head tore at my resolve. But I had to maintain a distance, my perspective. Whatever she needed, I couldn’t give her. Whatever she wanted, I couldn’t help her. I wasn’t a medium. I didn’t communicate with the dead—at least not intentionally—nor did I guide souls into the afterlife. Ghosts were dangerous to me. They were ravenous parasites. Hadn’t Mariama just proven that?

    If I were smart, I would ignore Devlin’s ghosts just as I had ignored the hundreds of other manifestations I’d seen throughout the years. I would cling to the remnants of Papa’s rules for dear life because, without them, I had little protection from any of the netherworld beings that crept through the veil at dusk.

    Best just to put the whole disquieting episode out of my mind.

    But…even if I somehow managed to disregard the ghosts, I knew the image of Devlin and that strange woman would torment me. I had no right to feel betrayed. I was the one who had broken things off with Devlin, and I’d done so without even a proper explanation. But how could I tell him that our passion had opened a passageway into a terrifying realm of specters that were colder and hungrier than any I’d ever encountered?

    Drawing a shaky breath, I tried to soothe myself. I should be grateful that he’d found someone else. The sooner he moved on, the safer he would be. The safer we would both be. Hadn’t I tried to do the same with Thane Asher?

    But no amount of rationalization could ease the pain in my chest, nor did the sight of my home offer solace, though it was more than just a residence. It was a hallowed sanctuary, the one place in all of Charleston where I could sequester myself from the ghosts and hide from the rest of the world.

    Rising from the remains of an orphanage chapel, the narrow house was built deep into the lot with upper and lower balconies and front and rear gardens in the Charleston tradition. I had the ground level to myself and that included access to the backyard and the original basement. A medical student named Macon Dawes rented the second floor. He was away at the moment, which gave Angus, the abused stray I’d brought home with me from the mountains, a chance to acclimate to his new surroundings before having to deal with a stranger.

    Angus must have sensed my return because I heard him bark from the rear garden to welcome me home. I called out to him as the gate swung shut and I stood for a moment letting the scent of the tea olives settle over me. Later, we would sit out back together watching my white garden come to life as the moon rose over the treetops. It had become a nightly ritual, the only time that I actually welcomed the darkness. I had always admired the walled gardens of Charleston, but I enjoyed mine especially by moonlight when the moths stirred and the bats took flight. Sometimes I felt as if I could sit out there forever, dreaming my life away.

    The old southern graveyards I restored held much the same fascination with their dripping moss, creeping ivy and, in the spring, the lavender gloom of their lilacs. Summer brought sweet roses; winter, luscious daphne. A perfume of death for every season. Each unique, each invoking a different emotion or a special memory but always reminding one of the past, of the fleeting nature of life.

    I don’t know how long I stood there with eyes closed, drowning in melancholia as I drank in the evening scents. Misery still held a firm grip, so perhaps that was why I didn’t see him straightaway. Or even sense him.

    When I finally spotted his silhouette, he was little more than a deeper shadow on the veranda, but somehow I knew who he was. What he was.

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