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Witch & Wizard_The Fire - James Patterson - Download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or In this stunning third instalment of the epic Witch & Wizard series. Author: James Patterson. 13 downloads Views KB Size Report. DOWNLOAD EPUB Witch & Wizard The Gift-witch wizard bo · Read more. Witch & Wizard Verbotene Gabe. Witch & Wizard (Series). James Patterson Author Ned Rust Author (). cover image of Witch & Wizard Verlorene Welt .


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The James Patterson Pageturners. Witch & Wizard (with Gabrielle Charbonnet). The Maximum Ride Novels. The Angel Experiment. School's Out—Forever. Audio Download Editions. Open menu . (Witch & Wizard - 2) JAMES PATTERSON is one of the best-known and biggest-selling writers of all time. Patterson also wrote the Michael Bennett, Women's Murder Club, Maximum Ride, Daniel X, and Witch and Wizard series, as well as many.

The writing is visual and cinematic--things that kids expect from their video games, TV cartoon shows and action movies. With the Maximum Ride series he has created edgy, taut thrillers that teens won't be able to put down. The characters are easy to identify with and I can't wait to see what happens to Max and her family next! Since his first novel won the Edgar Award in James Patterson's books have sold more than million copies. He is the author of the Alex Cross novels , the most popular detective series of the past twenty-five years, including Kiss the Girls and Along Came a Spider. He writes full-time and lives in Florida with his family. Would you like to tell us about a lower price?

Why should your fans have to buy another book to find out how this book should have ended.. To drag this out even for ten days is letting evil win. All of Alex Cross books have always taken fans though difficult situations and some cliff hangers. This is not a cliff hanger it is a stall Patterson is holding the ending hostage. I as a long time fan of all Patterson's books feel cheated. Patterson brings the reader through the story to the point that Alex pulls it together and is ready to go after Marcus Sunday and then the story just stops.

Cross My Heart was a 5 star book up until the end of Chapter when it dropped to a reluctant 2 star rating. I am sure your readers wouldn't mind if you had needed to expand Cross My Heart from pages to pages You write a message telling us we will see another Alex Cross book. Of course we will see another Alex Cross book but will anyone want to buy the book.

The fans were hung out to dry for a long time. For almost 14 months fans were waiting for the predictable ending to the Michael Bennett crisis.

As a loyal fan I feel Patterson has not shown his loyal fans the respect we deserve. Hardcover Verified Purchase. Cheap trick at the end to get you to buy the next book; I am a James Patterson lover, I have read almost all his books, but this one and Gone, the last two I read, just weren't up to the level of his other books. This book was contrived, impossible, and predictable. Like many other reviewers I am an avid Alex Cross fan, having read every single one of his books.

When I got to the end of this one I felt cheated because the ending was missing, like someone ripped the final chapters out of the book which is hard to do on a Kindle. I would have bought the next book anyway; there was no need to leave your faithful readers hanging. What a cheap shot to all your fans to write an Alex Cross story with a "to be continued" ending I don't think so. While the book was good, it's hard to overlook what appears a betrayal by the author. Patterson's books have been getting shorter and more trite over the past several years.

This book, however, is very good, and I had hopes Patterson's ghost writer or collaborator was on to something. Only to be left with a half finished book. Patterson himself was aware of this, hence his note to readers at the end spewing some story that he really was not duping writers, he was doing it for the good of change that all series must have. Ok fine! He could given it to us in another pages and had a gripping novel. Instead he is tapping it out to his next novel in the series, next year.

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I felt cheated and used as if Patterson didn't trust his readers to be in board with that and needed a year to digest the change. Well here is the change: IMO, the follow up to this book should be gratis. Mass Market Paperback Verified Purchase. The idea of kids with superpowers should be terrifying.

This novel manages to have comic book imagery without being a graphic novel. Imagine six-year old Angel with her beautiful wings and gills flying gracefully or swimming in the ocean. Imagine the fashion conscious Nudge. I keep getting beautiful images of these children at times like when they have a water balloon fight. The author manages to weave in lessons abut the dangers facing planet Earth and how important it is to save it and ourselves.

The message is subtle and the book stays enjoyable. It has been too long since I read the last book in the series, so it took me a minute to catch up with the bird kids and their dog, Total. The kids now have gills so they can survive under water as well as in the sky and Total now has wings.

But they keep developing new powers to cope with each danger. Is that playing fair with readers who expect characters to cope with what they already have - even if what they have are super powers. Maybe the kids already have too many super powers. I even have to take notes on the characters. Iggy is blind; Gasman is handy with bombs. Total the dog has a crush on a pure bred Akita.

I loved the part where the U. Navy tried to teach the kids basic training. Tough survival instructors got a lesson from a six year old. The flock always seem more than up to whatever dangers that face them. What a crappy way to sell books. It has no ending. After plus pages, the reader is left hanging and told that they have to buy the second book when it becomes available to know how the first book ends!!!!!!!!!!!!

I cannot believe that James Patterson would do such a thing to his loyal cadre of readers. Last Patterson book that his disappointed fan will buy!!! See all 8, reviews. Amazon Giveaway allows you to run promotional giveaways in order to create buzz, reward your audience, and attract new followers and customers. Learn more about Amazon Giveaway. This item: Set up a giveaway. Customers who viewed this item also viewed. The Angel Experiment: A Maximum Ride Novel Book 1. The Manga, Vol.

Pages with related products. See and discover other items: There's a problem loading this menu right now. Learn more about Amazon Prime. After all those people were executed in the square last month.

Using my near-death experience is a little manipulative. I feel safe. Suddenly I miss my parents so much I can almost feel them in the room with me. I gawk at him. I take mine. The fall of the New Order? Open it already! He looks away from me. He hands each of us a dessert plate heaped with pie. I figured you might need a little sparkle for that ugly mug. Look what God got us anyway — nothing but sickness and death. Pearl shrieks her high hyena laugh. This really means a lot. Voices that The One silenced for good.

I normally hate to have my hair touched. Maybe The One is God. Whit huffs and stalks away. Pearce falls abruptly to the floor in a pitiful heap. The One presses his lips together. Hand shaking. He never should have left. Pearce stops in the doorway. With a tap of his fingertip. His dazzlingly convincing smile and his straight white teeth make him a living poster for the clean. The One raises an eyebrow. The One can incinerate any of the children pictured.

With white-blond hair combed severely back from his forehead. He is tallish. Blood is dripping onto the floor in bright. The young soldier reaches a tentative hand toward The One. After all. His name is Pearce. So am I to understand that you employed demonstrably incompetent idiots to do a job that I brought you here specifically to do? He often does so for sport on lazy afternoons.

He touches his cheek and finds it still wet with blood. There is only one person in the world whom he hates more than the witch. His mouth twists into a sour grimace. I can take away every ounce of power I gave you.

When Pearce remains bitterly silent. Pearce feels a familiar fury heat up his cheeks and his ears. If he is strong enough. The words are out before he can stop them. The girl is there. The trouble is. The One clears his throat. Biting his tongue to keep from screaming. The One strikes Pearce hard across the face. An inch or two more.

Just as he is losing consciousness. Beautiful but hard. The One whirls around. If you want to go back to the mountains. Regaining his composure. Pearce surveys the rows upon rows of surveillance screens that light up the control tower.

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We are animals caught in a trap. Wisty winks at me. Yet here we still are. She winks at me and Pearl. Where else are you gonna go?

I feel nauseated. This is more like my life. I smile at Pearl. Can they keep this whole family warm at night? Warm and safe? One of the men laughs as his wolf strains against the chains. Wisty catches my expression and looks perplexed. Wisty sighs in frustration. A dizzying number of Death Squad recruits flood into the space. What has she ever worked for? The next floor is bombed out. I want to join in their moment. I tackle Wisty and together we tumble out of the fourth-story window.

Where can we go?

My mind races with my pulse. She looks at Wisty and nods her chin in the direction of the fireplace. Should work nicely for your hanging gallows. In the pandemonium. Pearl looks mesmerized by the wolves.

I whistle in appreciation. But I worked hard for those pieces of broken glass. Considering how insane things are right now. Mama May coughs. As much as I want to tell her about what I witnessed in that alley.

What do you say? Been going for almost two days now. The Needermans seem to have disappeared. I was almost getting too comfortable for a second there. I look around frantically for a weapon or a way out of this situation. Some of the soldiers are stomping at the floor. They knew this day would come.

I told her to stick with Mama May and run. Who have we made promises to. He looks at me. The Resistance kids. The soldiers lean out the window. Mom and Dad. I turn to Whit. I squint up at the window. She struggles against them. So why are these N. A small sign of support and unity. We are not the only ones still battling this unjust system. I dash down the alley of rubble after my brother. Back in the days of the Resistance. I just got you back. You know. And we always keep our promises.

I glance. The alarm goes off. I just need to catch my breath. I sound angrier than I mean to. I slow to a halt next to a closed fast-food joint. I vote we try to find Janine. They could be anywhere by now.

Going … to … barf. His face struggles between hope and defeat. I can see the small twitch of muscles around his mouth. Jamilla — everyone we can track down — to help out. It was dumb to waste all that energy on a weak fire and Holiday lights so soon after being sick.

We owe them more than this. But maybe the New Order finally broke her. Then I turn around. My adrenaline surges.

Whit nods. Then he jumps right back into our conversation. More than just letting them go. He looks me in the eyes. Captain Wisteria. Like me. Maybe they turned it into the new Resistance HQ. The blinking light from the OneDer Burger sign gives his face an eerie hue. Whit shoots me an annoyed look and steps out from behind the Dumpster. I cross my arms and walk a couple of paces. I roll my eyes.

Or of kind. My temper simmers. Whit has always been athletic. Three words: He plants his hand and vaults his legs over in a graceful move even I have to admire.

Reluctantly I reach into the sack. Kinda poetic. Oh no. The mealy. My stomach complains loudly and Whit grins. Whit sees my expression and shrugs. And out of the way. A little fancier than the Shadowland. She smiles.

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Hopelessness floods through me. I almost forgot! My hand. CAN you hear me? Her long dark curls frame her face. Her face — her perfect. I so want it to be you.

Celia surveys the Dumpster. I have to admit. You can write your story. I grin. You can write with it anywhere. I jerk awake and bump my head against the metal of the Dumpster. A message. I reach out to touch her face. From your parents. My heart aches. If this is a dream. The pen. She places the object in my hand. If my parents can still contact us through Celia.

If so. I never want to wake up. And your mom said to be brave. I hold my breath and inhale her scent. Wisty jogs to catch up. Mobs probably lurking in every alleyway. We have to keep moving. She looks up. Who knows? Maybe someone at the clinic has heard something about our friends.

There are few armed soldiers this far out. After what Pearl said about fulfilling the Prophecy. But the steam-pipe area is likely toxic. I felt this amazing relief to have you back. I want to get there as soon as possible. Dogs that have been trained on our scent.

It felt right. A young nurse named Lenora whom Wisty recognizes nods to us as we gather bandages. They feel like tiny birds in my arms. The paunch is not working for me. Wisty and I get a sort of assembly line of healing going. Kids on filthy cots or sprawled on mats on the floor among the decades-old auto grease. The New Order wants to expand its fancy headquarters into the old town. I make a mental note to keep up my workout routine into my forties.

My sister is standing over a thin. My fingertips heat up. She still knows her way around the clinic and heads to the end with the youngest kids. But then the boy smiles up at me. For one. I want to bash his bald head in. All any of them wants is a mother.

Her face is lined with worry. For a moment nothing happens. If you can stomach it.

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We watch in awe as his breathing evens out and the red drains from his eyes. So if the cleansing can take out a few thousand young potential dissenters in the process.

Each healing process takes a lot out of me. But I stop when I see her face. We have to keep going if we want to get to everyone. I look to my sister. Wisty gasps. Just One person. The first patient we visit is a little boy with sallow skin and the telltale plague scabs on his face. I nod to my sister. Might be safer. We help her move a few of the delirious kids from the floor to free cots.

She beckons me over toward the far end. I shrug self-consciously. Wisty is pressing her lips together. His big brown eyes are still lucid as they peer at us.

Wisty and I are just about to focus our energy on an eight-year-old girl emaciated with sickness when my sister looks up as if coming out of a trance. The whispers are replaced by harsh silence as this sinks in.

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I start to pack up supplies as Whit whispers healing words to Jamilla. The Jamilla we knew. A woman — the nurse who first greeted us — is following behind them. She wails. A broad. I recognize her corkscrew hair. The soldiers seem to be doing a routine inspection of some sort.

These people are sick. The soldiers are selecting beds to be wheeled into an armored truck. I want to ask about Emmet especially. Whit and I are disguised. No one else moves. They have a look of utter terror in their eyes. No response. Her eyes. Scared of us. Whit puts a cool cloth on her head.

Her eyes drift over us. Not now. But before I can sort out these strange emotions. Another tragedy. Whit shakes her shoulders. A real witch is. Home is long gone for us. Cowards at heart. His face is pained. Whit fingers their open gashes where the ropes cut into their flesh. I just wanted to save you from all that. With their whimsical. They want to burn every imaginative kid in sight.

The other girl is maybe two or three years younger. At first the mob comes together. Whit rushes to the girls and works at untying their binds.

I had this hairpin … a woman yanked it out of my hair and then they were all around us. The girl wails in desperation. My stomach twists and heaves. We could take them easily. Can you tell us your names? But when I see the angry. She looks at Dana. But Dana shakes her head. The two are sisters. As I lurch at the frenzied masses.

Cold horror stops me in my tracks as I spot a crowd in the clearing. My accusation is clear: How could he not tell me about something so serious? But the reality is even worse than that. Whit nods grimly. In minutes we have them freed and the square cleared of the murderous bigots. I look at the crowd. Really scared. Stacks and stacks of kindling are piled at their feet. We were just walking. But as I get closer. What are we going to do about it? If only she knew where to run to.

The sisters shuffle off into the gray streets of our fallen city. I snap my fingers and watch as they transform into squirrels. I can feel Whit tense beside me. My cheeks heat up in a mix of embarrassment and vanity. My eyes flick to the bank of the harbor. As they get closer. Whit sees me looking at the water and shakes his head. T-shirts that emphasize their gigundo muscles. No extra charge for the service. Like flame. We could hop the fence.

He strokes strands around my face. It is my great honor to meet you. Our middle-aged-staff disguises have fallen away. You have my word on it. The soldier laughs. Talking is always my first form of defense. I suspect we just might find out why all those kids were so afraid. Not just big-boned but. I flex my fingers in response. Fafner slinks toward Pearce like a dog with its tail between its legs.

I take a step in front of Wisty. Golden Boy? Like I was a blade of grass. Pearce looks like a child next to these seven-foot goons. Touchy subject apparently. I stand up straighter. And then the most insane thing happens: I know the way egos work — you just have to push the right buttons.

I am horrified. The rest of us stand around awkwardly. This is obviously a guy who is used to having things done his way. As Wisty and I stand there with our eyes bugging out of our heads and our mouths hanging open in disbelief. He blew me right over. He wraps his black cloak tightly around him as the wind coming off the water ripples his fair hair.

I bet I could take you.

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Its skull rolls to a stop in front of us. I let Celia slip through my fingers again. And now we have to deal with this egomaniacal kid. This is not the world we were promised as children. The guy is seriously unhinged. I watched a good friend die. The way he says it — suggesting things that are much more uncomfortable for an older brother to imagine than just a fire show — makes my hands ball into fists.

How does he know all of this about me? We might be in it deeper than I thought. Must we always resort to violence? I swear. I found out Janine — calm. Fafner is shaking now. So much for the New Order freak roast.

Now that the glamour has worn off. I start to move toward Pearce. My brother holds up a hand. My fingers start to tingle. Pearce smirks at me with the look of a person who enjoys torturing small animals. Blood from his nose is making awful. The guys holding me drop my arms.

I nod at Pearce uneasily. The biggest goon of the bunch steps forward and nods. A test. As in. What kind of coward has a guy twice his size fight in his place? I glance around at the eerie setting — the demolished buildings. No one else to bear witness. Write a poem about it? Wisty shoots me a look of alarm and disapproval. I might be in love. A breeze wafts in the smell of the sea-water behind us. I meant you against me. No one to hear me beg for mercy.

Maybe I can just knock him unconscious long enough to get out of here. Rency …? Apart from homeless plague sufferers squatting in the doorways of half-fallen buildings. The truth is. I wonder vaguely if other bodily functions have given way as well.

I am never going to get used to that. Pearce steps into the circle. And on. Unfortunately for you. I feel furious. His face is practically roadkill.

My body moves without my direction. The world burns bright.

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When I can see straight again. I focus through the physical pain. I grasp at his fingers. He leans forward and squeezes my skull even harder. I feel … out of control. I wipe off my mouth and sit up.

How am I still alive? With this realization. The pain. Something clicks. I feel powerful. At that instant. But still the pain throbs. I slide forward as if following some secret choreography. As my firsts connect with his jaw. My eyes roll back but snap open to punctuate each new bolt of agony pulsing through my body. The dying. The giants are edging away from me with baffled.

All of it. I look down at my fists. Pearce screams. I have a hazy understanding that that awful sound — that shrieking. Then a knee explodes into my chin. My jaw is clenched tight enough to grind steel. But Rency is built like a bulldozer. But it goes on. I barely come up to his chest. Life rearranges itself into just two words. Even when he crouches down. My stomach churns. Pearce looks disappointed on the sidelines.

I can feel it. I feel invincible. Tears are streaming down her face. I see: I tense. Rency has a glint in his eye. What does that mean? I wonder. I urge silently. He looked okay. His hard features look softer. Is the dotty-old-witch persona an act? I have no idea. Out here without proper coats! You know those teachers you think are totally kooky and weird but whom you actually learn the most from in the end?

I turn to see Mrs. I tell myself. The last time I saw her she was pressed up against her ceiling. I eye the handsome psychopath sprawled on the gravel. Whether as a result of my telepathic begging or not. Wake up. What a temper! Wake up before Pearce does.

I shiver. I felt totally motion-sick. The woman has some real hoarding issues. There are pathways carved out through the litter. The awful smoke. I pick up one book gingerly and brush off its dusty cover. I always loved to read. On Mrs. The smoke. The hoods. Plenty of great wisdom in that one. I join in. All I know is that Mrs. The walls are crowded with banned art. Highsmith laughs her musical laugh. Stacks and stacks of books.

Now that I can relate to. She turns to me. I was sitting on a barstool and Mrs. After a minute she turns to stir the soup. Highsmith raises an eyebrow. The crowd. Maybe Mrs. She has kept some of the key things from her last place. Anything by the Cumin Girls I sort of choose to forget. I watched them get … executed. Highsmith was here to help us. Then she frowns.

I feel almost tender toward these tomes.

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As yet unextinguished. Any advanced knowledge would be pretty freaking helpful right about now. We spin round and round to the familiar tune. How did we get here? Jockeying for space on bureau tops. I back away from the stinky slop and join Whit in taking in the surroundings. She stirs the pot as she moves.

Where exactly is her new place. Mom would probably smack me. I guess to live among the N. The One has taken away our power to learn. Highsmith and I have more in common than I thought. And books. My brother hangs back. Will you help us find the portal. Tell us where you are! Whitford and Wisteria. Wisty looks at me. We just have to find a portal to the Shadowland. And they want us to just do nothing? They are emaciated and as pale as paper.

My parents seem to be standing near a river. He looks about a hundred years old. Do you know how to get there? Highsmith cocks an eyebrow. At least not in their thoughts. If not followed explicitly. It will be the end of … everything. The One. How about physics? I should have expected as much from a truant. It will be the end of resistance. Only to prevent others from trying to be God. Whit eats a spoonful and then pushes the rest of the bowl away while trying not to make a puke face.

He may control the earth. Just what exactly is going on here? I glare at her. Follow the animals to the river. All because of a Prophecy someone saw written on a wall.

But if what The One believes is true. Your vision will serve you well. Highsmith looks me over with quiet disapproval. In the past. Besides our lives. The labyrinth will deceive you. My spoon clatters to the floor. Of course we are. Are we really going to do this? It looks and smells like cat food.

How is anyone supposed to fight that? I look at Whit. Our parents are out there in some Shadowland abyss. I understand that you have experience in the depths of the Shadowland. Something was going on there at the river. Trained wolves snarl at the N. I guess.