{"product_id":"a-stroke-of-midnight-isbn-9780345492449","title":"A Stroke of Midnight","description":"\u003cb\u003e“Nonstop action . . . This book will leave you breathless.”—\u003ci\u003eSt. Louis Post-Dispatch\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“I’ve never read a writer with a more fertile imagination.”—DIANA GABALDON\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eHow much of my human side will I have to give up, and how much of the sinister side of faerie will I have to embrace? To sit on a throne that has ruled through bloodshed for centuries, I might have to become that which I dread the most.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eIn Los Angeles she is Meredith Gentry, private investigator. In the faraway world of the faerie she is Princess Meredith, heir to a dark throne. In this realm of peril and deception, adversaries watch her every move, while the enemies of her aunt, the queen, lay in wait to usurp power. For the first time in history, human police will enter faerie—and Meredith will need \u003ci\u003eall \u003c\/i\u003eher allies when fate leads her into the arms of Mistral, Master of Storms, the queen’s new captain of the guard. Their passion will awaken powers long forgotten among the warriors of the court—and as Meredith’s enemies gather, both courts of faerie will face dire threat.\u003cb\u003ePraise for Laurell K. Hamilton\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eA Kiss of Shadows\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“I’ve never read a writer with a more fertile imagination.”—DIANA GABALDON\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sizzling . . . Memorable characters and wicked wit make it all delicious, ribald fun.”\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Publishers Weekly\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eA Caress of Twilight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Sensual, without a doubt . . . This book moves like a whirlwind.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eSt. Louis Post-Dispatch\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[A] sexy, tension-charged dark fantasy mystery.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLocus\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eSeduced by Moonlight\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“This [faerie] society is one of the most detailed, imaginative, and lovingly drawn in all fantastic fiction, and the Meredith Gentry series has become something special.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eSan Jose Mercury News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hamilton’s books [are] must-reads.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Denver Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eLAURELL K. HAMILTON\u003c\/b\u003e is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of the Meredith Gentry novels \u003ci\u003eA Kiss of Shadows, A Caress of Twilight,\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eSeduced by Moonlight,\u003c\/i\u003e as well as twelve acclaimed Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, novels. She lives in St. Louis, Missouri.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eVisit the author’s official website at www.laurellkhamilton.orgCHAPTER 1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hate press conferences. but I especially hate them when I've been  ordered to hide large portions of the truth. The order had come from  the Queen of Air and Darkness, ruler of the dark court of faerie. The  Unseelie are not a power to be crossed, even if I was their very own  faerie princess. I was Queen Andais's niece, but the family  connection had never bought me much. I smiled at the nearly solid  wall of reporters, fighting to keep my thoughts from showing on my  face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe queen had never allowed this much of the human media inside the  Unseelie's hollow hill, our sithen. It was our refuge, and you don't  let the press into your refuge. But yesterday's assassination attempt  had made allowing the press into our home the lesser evil. The theory  was that inside the sithen our magic would protect me much better  than it had in the airport yesterday, where I'd nearly been shot.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOur court publicist, Madeline Phelps, pointed to the first reporter,  and the questions began.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Princess Meredith, you had blood on your face yesterday, but today  the only sign of injury is your arm in a sling. What were your  injuries yesterday?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy left arm was in a green cloth sling that matched my suit jacket  near perfectly. I was dressed in Christmas, Yule, red and green.  Cheerful, and it was that time of year. My hair was a deeper red than  my blouse. My hair is the most Unseelie part of me, sidhe scarlet  hair for someone who looks good in black. Not the gold or orangey red  of human hair. The jacket brought out the green in two out of the  three circles of color in my iris. The gold circle would flash in the  camera light sometimes as if it truly was metallic. The eyes were  pure Seelie sidhe, the only part of me that showed that my mother had  been of the golden court. Well, at least half.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI didn't recognize the reporter who had asked the question. He was a  new face to me, maybe new since yesterday. Since yesterday's  assassination attempt had happened in front of the media, on camera,  well, we'd had to turn away some of the reporters, because the big  room wouldn't hold more. I'd been doing press conferences since I was  a child. This was the biggest one I'd had, including the one after my  father was assassinated. I'd been taught to use names for reporters  when I knew them, but to this one I could only smile and say, \"My arm  is only sprained. I was very lucky yesterday.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eActually, my arm hadn't been injured in the assassination attempt  that got on film. No, my arm had been hurt on the second, or was that  the third, attempt on my life yesterday. But those attempts had  happened inside the sithen, where I was supposed to be safe. The only  reason the queen and my bodyguards thought I was safer here than  outside in the human world was that we had arrested or killed the  traitors behind the attempts on me, and the attempt on the queen.  We'd damned near had a palace coup yesterday, and the media didn't  have a hint of it. One of the old names for the fey is the hidden  people. We've earned the name.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Princess Meredith, was it your blood on your face, yesterday?\" A  woman this time, and I did know her name.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"No,\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI smiled for real, as I watched her face fall when she realized she  might be getting just a one-word answer. \"No, Sheila, it wasn't mine.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe smiled at me, all blond and taller than I would ever be. \"May I  add to my question, Princess?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Now, now,\" Madeline said, \"one question per.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It's okay, Madeline,\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOur publicist turned to look at me, flipping off the switch at her  waist so her microphone would not pick up. I took the cue and covered  mine with my hand and moved to one side of it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMadeline leaned in over the table. Her skirt was long enough that she  was in no danger of flashing the reporters down below the dais. Her  skirt was the absolute latest hem length of the moment, as was the  color. Part of her job was paying attention to what was in and what  was out. She was our human representative, much more than any  ambassador that Washington had ever sent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If Sheila gets to add to her question, then they will all do it.  That will make everything harder, for you and for me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe was right, but . . . \"Tell them that this is an exception. Then move on.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe raised perfectly plucked eyebrows at me, then said, \"Okay.\" She  hit the switch on her mike as she turned and smiled at them. \"The  princess will let Sheila ask another question, but after that you'll  have to keep it to the original rule. One question per.\" She pointed  to Sheila and gave a nod.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Thank you for letting me add on to my question, Princess Meredith.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You're welcome.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If it wasn't your blood yesterday, then whose was it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"My guard Frost's.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe cameras flashed to life so that I was blinded, but the attention  of everyone had moved behind me. My guards were lined up along the  wall, spilling down the edges of the dais, to curl on either side of  the table and floor. They were dressed in everything from designer  suits to full-plate body armor to Goth club wear. The only thing that  all the outfits had in common was weaponry. Yesterday we'd tried to  be discreet about the weapons. A bulge that ruined the line of the  jacket, but nothing overt. Today there were guns under jackets or  cloaks, but there were also guns in plain sight, and swords, and  knives, and axes, and shields. We'd also more than doubled the number  of guards around me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI glanced back at Frost. The queen had ordered me not to play  favorites among the guard. She'd gone so far as to tell me not to  give any long lingering glances to one guard over another. I'd  thought it was an odd demand, but she was queen, and you argued with  her at your peril. But I glanced back; after all, he'd saved my life.  Didn't that earn him a glance? I could always justify it to the  queen, my aunt, that the press would think it strange if I hadn't  acknowledged him. It was the truth, but I looked because I wanted to  look.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis hair was the silver of Christmas-tree tinsel, shiny and metallic.  It fell to his ankles like decoration, but I knew that it was soft  and alive, and felt oh so warm across my body. He'd put the upper  layer of his hair back from his face with a barrette carved from  bone. The hair glittered and moved around his charcoal-grey Armani  suit that had been tailored over his broad shoulders and the athletic  cut of the rest of him. The suit had also been tailored to hide a gun  in a shoulder holster and a knife or two. It had not been designed to  hide a gun under each arm, or a short sword at his hip, with a  leather scabbard strapped tight to his thigh. The hilt of a second  sword rode over his shoulder, peeking through all that shining hair.  He bristled with knives, and Frost always had other weapons that you  couldn't see. No suit was designed to cover that much armament and  hold its shape. His jacket couldn't be buttoned at all, and the guns  and sword and one knife glinted in the camera's flash.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCries of \"Frost, Frost\" filled the room, while Madeline picked a  question. The man was another one I didn't know. Nothing like an  assassination attempt to attract the media.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Frost, how badly were you hurt?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrost is a little over six feet, and since I was sitting down, and  the microphone was adjusted to my height, he had to lean down, way  down. With a weapon of any kind he was graceful. But bending low over  that mike he was awkward. I had a moment to wonder if he'd ever been  on mike before, then his deep voice was answering the question.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I am not hurt.\" He stood back up, and I could see the relief on his  face. He turned away from the cameras, as if he thought he'd get off  that easily. I knew better.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"But wasn't it your blood on the princess?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis hand was gripping the pommel of his short sword. Touching his  weapons unnecessarily was a sign of nerves. He leaned over the mike  again, and this time he bumped my bad shoulder with his body. I  doubted the press saw such a small movement, but it was too clumsy  for words, for Frost. He braced a hand flat against the table,  steadying himself. He turned eyes the grey of a winter sky to me. The  look asked silently, \"Did I hurt you?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI mouthed, no.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe let out a sigh and leaned back to the microphone. \"Yes, it was my  blood.\" He actually stood back up, as if that would satisfy them. He  should have known better. He had been decorative muscle for the queen  at enough of these over the years to know that he was being a little  too concise. At least he didn't try to go back to his spot behind me  this time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA reporter I did know, Simon McCracken, was next. He'd covered the  faerie courts for years. \"Frost, if you are not hurt, then where did  your blood come from and how did it get on the princess?\" He knew how  to word the question just right, so we couldn't tap-dance around it.  The sidhe don't lie. We'll paint the truth red, purple, and green,  and convince you that black is white, but we won't actually lie.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrost leaned over the mike again, his hand pressed to the table. He'd  moved minutely closer to me, close enough that his pants leg touched  my skirt. His sword was almost trapped between our bodies. That would  be bad if he had to draw the weapon. I looked at his hand, so big and  strong on the table, and realized his fingertips were mottled. He was  gripping the table the way you grip a podium when you're nervous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I was shot.\" He had to clear his throat sharply to continue. I  turned my head just enough to see that perfect profile, and realized  it was more than nerves. Frost, the queen's Killing Frost, was  afraid. Afraid of public speaking. Oh, my. \"I have healed. My blood  covered the princess when I shielded her from harm.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe started to stand back up, but I touched his arm. I covered the  mike with my hand, and leaned in against him, so I could whisper  against the curve of his ear. I took in a deep breath of the scent of  his skin, and said, \"Kneel or sit.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis breath went out so deep that his shoulders moved with it. But he  knelt on one knee beside me. I moved the microphone a little closer  to him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI slid my hand under the back of his jacket, so that I could lay my  hand against the curve of his back, just below the side sweep of the  big sword sheath. When fey are nervous, any fey, we take comfort from  touching one another. Even the mighty sidhe feel better with a little  contact, though not all of us will admit it for fear of blurring the  line between royalty and commoner. I had too much lesser fey blood in  my veins to worry about it. I could feel the sweat that was beginning  to trickle down his spine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMadeline started to come closer to us. I shook my head. She gave me a  questioning look but didn't argue. She picked another question from  the throng.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"So you took a bullet to protect Princess Meredith?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI leaned into the mike, putting my face very close to Frost's,  touching carefully, so I didn't get makeup on him. The cameras  exploded in bursts of white light. Frost jumped, and I knew that was  going to be visible to the cameras. Oh, well. We were blinded, vision  blurred in bursts of white and blue spots. His muscles tightened, but  I wouldn't have known it if I hadn't been touching him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Hi, Sarah, and yes, he took a bullet for me,\" I said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI think Sarah said \"Hi, Princess\" back, but I couldn't be sure, since  I still couldn't see well enough, and the noise of so many voices was  too confusing. I'd learned to use names when I knew them. It made  everyone feel more friendly. And you need all the friendly you can  get at a press conference.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Frost, were you afraid?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe relaxed minutely against me, into the touch of my hand and my  face. \"Yes,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Afraid to die,\" someone yelled out without being called on.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrost answered the question anyway. \"No.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMadeline called on someone, who asked, \"Then what were you afraid of?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I was afraid Meredith would be harmed.\" He licked his lips, and  tensed again. I realized he'd used my name without my title. A faux  pas for a bodyguard, but of course, he was more than that. Every  guard was technically in the running to be prince to my princess. But  we were sidhe, and we don't marry until we're pregnant. A nonfertile  couple is not allowed to wed, so the guards were doing more than just  \"guarding\"my body.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Frost, would you give your life for the princess?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe answered without hesitation. \"Of course.\" His tone said clearly  that that had been a silly question.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA reporter in back who had a television camera next to him asked the  next question. \"Frost, how did you heal a gunshot wound in less than  twenty-four hours?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrost gave another deep, shoulder-moving sigh. \"I am a warrior of the  sidhe.\" The reporters waited for him to add more, but I knew he  wouldn't. To Frost, the fact that he was sidhe was all the answer he  needed. It had been only a through and through bullet wound from a  handgun and no special ammunition. It would take a great deal more  than that to stop a warrior of the sidhe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI hid my smile and started to lean into the mike, to help explain  that to the press, when the sweat along his spine suddenly stopped  being wet and warm. It was as if a line of cold air swept down his  back. Cold enough that I moved my hand away, startled.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI glanced down at his big hand on the table and saw what I'd feared.  A white rime of frost was drifting out from his hand#1 New York Times bestselling author","brand":"Dell","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48532120535269,"sku":"NP9780345492449","price":20.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345492449.jpg?v=1773182721","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/a-stroke-of-midnight-isbn-9780345492449","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}