Leigh Bardugo

Magisch, geheimnisvoll und höllisch düster: In Leigh Bardugos Urban-Fantasy-Roman »Wer die Hölle kennt« ist Geisterseherin Alex Stern zurück auf dem Campus der Elite-Uni Yale – und bereit, sich der Hölle selbst entgegen zu stellen. Seit Jahrhunderten ziehen acht mächtige studentische Verbindungen der Elite-Universität Yale die Fäden hinter Politik und Wirtschaft – das neunte Haus jedoch überwacht die Einhaltung der Regeln. Denn die Macht der Verbindungen beruht auf uralter, dunkler Magie. Zwar ist es Geisterseherin Alex Stern gelungen, im Auftrag des neunten Hauses eine Verschwörung auf dem Campus aufzuklären, doch dabei wurde ihr Mentor Daniel Arlington entführt. Obwohl Alex' Gefühle für Daniel in zwei sehr unterschiedliche Richtungen tendieren, unternimmt sie alles, um ihn zu retten. Auch wenn sie dafür buchstäblich durch die Hölle gehen muss! Leigh Bardugo, die Bestseller-Autorin der Grisha-Verse-Romane, verbindet auch in der Fortsetzung von »Das neunte Haus« Campus-Leben mit dunkler Magie und einem Schuss Gothic Noir zu einem unwiderstehlichen Urban-Fantasy-Roman mit Kult-Potenzial. »Dieser Fantasy-Roman ist brillant, witzig, brutal und absolut großartig – er ist ein Portal zu einer Welt, die du niemals verlassen willst.« Lev Grossman (»The Magicians«) über »Das neunte Haus«

Alex Stern #2

Wer die Hölle kennt

Brittany

That was the problem with love. It was hard to unlearn, no matter how harsh the lesson.

Victoria Justice

Culebra que no mir morde, que viva mil anos. 

May the snake that doesn't bite mne live a thousand years.

Heather Harrington

 All she wanted to do was sit, unbothered in a circle of lamplight, and live someone else's life. 

Alex traced her fingers over the letters. "Darlington was. Hed go to hell for me, for you, for anyone who needed saving. "Alex," Michelle said, dusting off her skirt, "hed go to hell just to take notes on the climate."

Comfort was the drug she hadn't understood until it was too late and she was hooked on cups of tea and book-lined shelves, nights uninterrupted by the wail of sirens and the ceaseless churning of helicopters overhead.

"Galaxy Stern," Darlington said, his eyes flashing gold, "I have been crying out to you from the start." 

Magic was transgression, the blurring of the line between the impossible and the possible. There was something about crossing that boundary that seemed to shake loose all the morals and taboos people took for granted. When anything was within your grasp, it got harder and harder to remember why you shouldn't take I-money, power, your dream job, your dream fuck, a life.

"Is that what those things are?" she asked. "Around your wrists and neck? Marks?" “These?" He leaned forward, and the change in him was instant, the glowing eyes, the curling horns, the broadening of the shoulders. Without meaning to, Alex found herself scooting back in her chair. He was man and then monster in the space of a breath. The golden bands glowed at his wrists and throat. "Yeah, she said, trying not to show her fear. Those." "These marks mean I am bound in service. Forever. "To hell? To Golgarot?" He laughed then, the sound deep and cold, the thing at the bottom of the lake. "Tm bound to you, Stern. To the woman who brought me out of hell. I will serve you 'til the end of days."

erin alise 

When I explained the particulars of Hiram's elixir, he recited Yeats to me. "The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” I didn't have the heart to tell him I know the quote and I've always hated it. It's too easy to believe that we're being watched and studied by something with infinite patience, as we rush un-knowing toward an irreversible moment of revelation.

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