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NARCISSUS IN CHAINS by Laurell K. Hamilton [Blurb] With the highly acclaimedObsidian Butterfly, Laurell K. Hamilton's vampire hunter, Anita Blake, came into her own. She survived a supernatural onslaught unlike any she had ever faced before--and she did it without the two men in her life. Now, six months have passed since Anita has seen either Jean-Claude or Richard. Six months of celibacy. Six months of indecision. Six months of danger. For her body carries the marks of both vampire and werewolf, and until the triumvirate is consummated, all three remain vulnerable. But when a kidnapper targets innocents that Anita has sworn to protect, she needs all the help she can get. In an earth-shattering union, Anita, Jean-Claude, and Richard merge the marks--and melt into one another. Suddenly, Anita can harness both their powers. She can feel their hearts ... hear their thoughts ... know their hungers .... Nothing can save Anita from a twist of fate that draws her ever closer to the brink of humanity--to finally surrender to the bloodlust, the beast, and the desire transforming her body and consuming her soul. Copyright (c) 2001 This one's for J., who renewed my faith in men, love, and happiness. Thank you. Acknowledgments To my writing group, who didn't get to see this one before it went to New York. Tom Drennan, Rett MacPherson, Deborah Millitello, Marella Sands, Sharon Shinn, and Mark Sumner. May this be the last book that doesn't get to go through the group due to time constraints, or any other reason. Thanks to Joan-Marie Knappenberger for letting Trinity come over to play with Melissa while I did last-minute things. Thanks to Darla Cook, who helps keep me sane, and Robin Bell, for almost the same reason. Thanks to all the fans for their enthusiasm. Anita and I, both, appreciate it. #1# JUNE HAD COME in like its usual hot, sweaty self, but a freak cold front had moved in during the night and the car radio had been full of the record low temperatures. It was only in the low sixties, not that cold, but after weeks of eighty- and ninety-plus, it felt downright frigid. My best friend, Ronnie Sims, and I were sitting in my Jeep with the windows down, letting the unseasonably cool air drift in on us. Ronnie had turned thirty tonight. We were talking about how she felt about the big 3-0 and other girl talk. Considering that she's a private detective and I raise the dead for a living it was pretty ordinary talk. Sex, guys, turning thirty, vampires, werewolves. You know, the usual. We could have gone inside the house, but there is something about the intimacy of a car after dark that
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