A Discovery of Witches
A Novel
(Sprache: Englisch)
Diana Bishop, a young historian (and a witch), discovers an enchanted manuscript at the Bodleian Library at Oxford. The text, known as Ashmole 782, turns out to be a coveted treasure lost for centuries, and she is the first and only creature who has met the...
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Diana Bishop, a young historian (and a witch), discovers an enchanted manuscript at the Bodleian Library at Oxford. The text, known as Ashmole 782, turns out to be a coveted treasure lost for centuries, and she is the first and only creature who has met the terms of its spell. Her discovery sets the supernatural world spinning, and she soon finds an ally in Matthew Clairmont, a 1,500 year old vampire. A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES debuted at No 2 on the hardcover New York Times bestsellers list.
Klappentext zu „A Discovery of Witches “
Book one of the New York Times-bestselling All Souls trilogy-"a wonderfully imaginative grown-up fantasy with all the magic of Harry Potter and Twilight" (People). Now "[a] hot show that's like Twilight meets Outlander" (Thrillist) airing Sundays on AMC and BBC America, as well as streaming on Sundance Now and Shudder.
Deborah Harkness's sparkling debut, A Discovery of Witches, has brought her into the spotlight and galvanized fans around the world. In this tale of passion and obsession, Diana Bishop, a young scholar and a descendant of witches, discovers a long-lost and enchanted alchemical manuscript, Ashmole 782, deep in Oxford's Bodleian Library. Its reappearance summons a fantastical underworld, which she navigates with her leading man, vampire geneticist Matthew Clairmont.
Harkness has created a universe to rival those of Anne Rice, Diana Gabaldon, and Elizabeth Kostova, and she adds a scholar's depth to this riveting tale of magic and suspense. The story continues in book two, Shadow of Night, and concludes with The Book of Life.
Lese-Probe zu „A Discovery of Witches “
Chapter 1The leather-bound volume was nothing remarkable. To an ordinary historian, it would have looked no different from hundreds of other manuscripts in Oxford s Bodleian Library, ancient and worn. But I knew there was something odd about it from the moment I collected it.
Duke Humfrey s Reading Room was deserted on this late-September afternoon, and requests for library materials were filled quickly now that the summer crush of visiting scholars was over and the madness of the fall term had not yet begun. Even so, I was surprised when Sean stopped me at the call desk.
Dr. Bishop, your manuscripts are up, he whispered, voice tinged with a touch of mischief. The front of his argyle sweater was streaked with the rusty traces of old leather bindings, and he brushed at it self-consciously. A lock of sandy hair tumbled over his forehead when he did.
Thanks, I said, flashing him a grateful smile. I was flagrantly disregarding the rules limiting the number of books a scholar could call in a single day. Sean, who d shared many a drink with me in the pink-stuccoed pub across the street in our graduate-student days, had been filling my requests without complaint for more than a week. And stop calling me Dr. Bishop. I always think you re talking to someone else.
He grinned back and slid the manuscripts all containing fine examples of alchemical illustrations from the Bodleian s collections over his battered oak desk, each one tucked into a protective gray cardboard box. Oh, there s one more. Sean disappeared into the cage for a moment and returned with a thick, quarto-size manuscript bound simply in mottled calfskin. He laid it on top of the pile and stooped to inspect it. The thin gold rims of his glasses sparked in the dim light provided by the old bronze reading lamp that was attached to a shelf. This one s not been called up for a while. I ll make a note that it needs to be boxed after you return it.
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Do you want me to remind you?
No. Already made a note here. Sean tapped his head with his fingertips.
Your mind must be better organized than mine. My smile widened.
Sean looked at me shyly and tugged on the call slip, but it remained where it was, lodged between the cover and the first pages. This one doesn t want to let go, he commented.
Muffled voices chattered in my ear, intruding on the familiar hush of the room.
Did you hear that? I looked around, puzzled by the strange sounds.
What? Sean replied, looking up from the manuscript.
Traces of gilt shone along its edges and caught my eye. But those faded touches of gold could not account for a faint, iridescent shimmer that seemed to be escaping from between the pages. I blinked.
Nothing. I hastily drew the manuscript toward me, my skin prickling when it made contact with the leather. Sean s fingers were still holding the call slip, and now it slid easily out of the binding s grasp. I hoisted the volumes into my arms and tucked them under my chin, assailed by a whiff of the uncanny that drove away the library s familiar smell of pencil shavings and floor wax.
Diana? Are you okay? Sean asked with a concerned frown.
Fine. Just a bit tired, I replied, lowering the books away from my nose.
I walked quickly through the original, fifteenth-century part of the library, past the rows of Elizabethan reading desks with their three ascending bookshelves and scarred writing surfaces. Between them, Gothic windows directed the reader s attention up to the coffered ceilings, where bright paint and gilding picked out the details of the university s crest of three crowns and open book and where i
Do you want me to remind you?
No. Already made a note here. Sean tapped his head with his fingertips.
Your mind must be better organized than mine. My smile widened.
Sean looked at me shyly and tugged on the call slip, but it remained where it was, lodged between the cover and the first pages. This one doesn t want to let go, he commented.
Muffled voices chattered in my ear, intruding on the familiar hush of the room.
Did you hear that? I looked around, puzzled by the strange sounds.
What? Sean replied, looking up from the manuscript.
Traces of gilt shone along its edges and caught my eye. But those faded touches of gold could not account for a faint, iridescent shimmer that seemed to be escaping from between the pages. I blinked.
Nothing. I hastily drew the manuscript toward me, my skin prickling when it made contact with the leather. Sean s fingers were still holding the call slip, and now it slid easily out of the binding s grasp. I hoisted the volumes into my arms and tucked them under my chin, assailed by a whiff of the uncanny that drove away the library s familiar smell of pencil shavings and floor wax.
Diana? Are you okay? Sean asked with a concerned frown.
Fine. Just a bit tired, I replied, lowering the books away from my nose.
I walked quickly through the original, fifteenth-century part of the library, past the rows of Elizabethan reading desks with their three ascending bookshelves and scarred writing surfaces. Between them, Gothic windows directed the reader s attention up to the coffered ceilings, where bright paint and gilding picked out the details of the university s crest of three crowns and open book and where i
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Deborah Harkness
Deborah Harkness
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Deborah Harkness
- 2011, Internationale Ausgabe, 752 Seiten, Masse: 10,3 x 17,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin US
- ISBN-10: 0143119672
- ISBN-13: 9780143119678
- Erscheinungsdatum: 09.09.2011
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
A wonderfully imaginative grown-up fantasy with all the magic of Harry Potter or Twilight. . . . An irresistible tale of wizardry, science and forbidden love. People
Romantic, erudite, and suspenseful . . . Harkness attends to every scholarly and emotional detail with whimsy, sensuality, and humor.
O, The Oprah Magazine
A thoroughly grown-up novel packed with gorgeous historical detail and a gutsy, brainy heroine to match. . . . Harkness writes with thrilling gusto about the magical world.
Entertainment Weekly
Harkness conjures up a scintillating paranormal story. . . . Discover why everyone s talking about this magical book.
USA Today
Delightfully well-crafted and enchantingly imaginative . . . It has some of the same ineluctable atmosphere that made Anne Rice s vampire books such a popular success.
Miami Herald
A debut novel with a big supernatural canvas . . . Its ambitions are world-sized, ranging across history and zeroing in on DNA, human and otherwordly. Age-old tensions between science and magic and between evolution and alchemy erupt as Diana seeks to unlock the secrets of Ashmole 782.
Los Angeles Times
Harkness, an eloquent writer, conjures this world of witches with Ivy League degrees and supernatural creatures completely and believably while maintaining a sense of wonder. . . . A Discovery of Witches is that rare historical novel that manages to be as intelligent as it is romantic. And it is supernatural fiction that those of us who usually prefer to stay grounded in reality can get caught up in. Pardon the pun, but Witches is truly spellbinding.
San Antonio News-Express
Readers who thrilled to Elizabeth Kostova s 2005 blockbuster, The Historian, will note the parallels, but A Discovery of Witches is a modern Romeo and Juliet story, with older, wiser lovers. Blood will flow when a witch and a vampire
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fall for each other. Author Deborah Harkness, a UCLA history professor, brings vast knowledge and research to the page.
Cleveland Plain Dealer
Harkness works her own form of literary alchemy by deftly blending fantasy, romance, history, and horror into one completely bewitching book.
Chicago Tribune
A Discovery of Witches becomes increasingly charming as it goes along. . . . A shrewdly written romp and a satisfying snow-day read for those of us who heartily enjoyed the likes of Anne Rice and Marion Zimmer Bradley. By the book s rousing end . . . I was impatient for the sequel.
NPR
Cleveland Plain Dealer
Harkness works her own form of literary alchemy by deftly blending fantasy, romance, history, and horror into one completely bewitching book.
Chicago Tribune
A Discovery of Witches becomes increasingly charming as it goes along. . . . A shrewdly written romp and a satisfying snow-day read for those of us who heartily enjoyed the likes of Anne Rice and Marion Zimmer Bradley. By the book s rousing end . . . I was impatient for the sequel.
NPR
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