These Deadly Prophecies

Informationen zum Autor Andrea Tang grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, and currently lives, writes, and works in the Washington, D.C. area. She loves martial arts in general and Brazilian jiu-jitsu in particular, and in her spare time, enjoys learning new sports and checking out live theater. Andrea is the author of Rebelwing and its companion novel, Renegade Flight . Klappentext A teenage sorcerer's apprentice must solve her boss's murder in order to prove her innocence in this twisty, magic-infused murder mystery perfect for fans of Knives Out and The Inheritance Games . Being an apprentice for one of the world's most famous sorcerers has its challenges; Tabatha Zeng just didn't think they would include solving crime. But when her boss, the infamous fortuneteller Sorcerer Solomon, predicts his own brutal deathand worse, it comes trueTabatha finds herself caught in the crosshairs. The police have their sights set on her and Callum Solomon, her murdered boss's youngest son. With suspicion swirling around them, the two decide to team up to find the real killer and clear their own names once and for all. But solving a murder isn't as easy as it seems, especially when the suspect list is mostly the rich, connected, and magical members of Sorcerer Solomon's family. And Tabatha can't quite escape the nagging voice in her head asking: just how much can she really trust Callum Solomon? Nothing is as it seems in this quick-witted and fantastical murder mystery. Leseprobe The best prophecies always begin with love stories and end with tragedies. Or so it's been said by fortune tellers and sorcerers. Do you think it's true? I wonder. I used to think it was just a clever little cliché that Sorcerer Solomon leveraged to market his fortunes to an anxious audience, and I can't fault him: Who doesn't hope to play the hero of their own love story? Who doesn't dread eventual tragedy? But lately, I'm beginning to believe that Sorcerer Solomon really lives by those words. Lived. Sorry. Please be patient. Toying with fate makes it hard to keep track of those hairline fractures between past, present, and future. When you spend all your time sneaking peeks at what's yet to come, getting persnickety about the precise order of time seems pretty rich. But I must, for my own sake, try to keep this story as clear and conventionally chronological as I can. A story, properly told, can save a life. This one, if I tell it right, might even save mine. My parents say that I spend an alarming amount of time thinking about death for someone only seventeen. Honestly, it's a difficult subject to avoid in my line of work. It wasn't so long ago that doing the sort of things I do after school would have gotten me burned at some stake or another. People claim that the twenty-­first century has eroded the atmosphere, mysticism, and, frankly, sheer aesthetic that once elevated the practice of sorcery beyond the comprehension of mere plebes. I tell these people that if they want to hop into a time machine and get themselves murdered by history's most notorious anti-­fun police off in Puritan-­ville, Salem, Massachusetts, they're more than welcome. I'm not wild about murder, myself. Which is pretty ironic, when you consider the direction my life has taken recently. But now I'm getting ahead of myself again. What did I tell you? Past, present, and future, all jumbled up in my head. So let's begin at the real beginning: my pursuit of sorcery. Not just any class of sorcery, but fortune-telling. Even among sorcerers, bona fide fortune tellers are a rare breed. You have your illusionists­considered petty entertainers­and your kinetics­respectable, though a bit mainstream. But fortune tellers have always been kings among sorcerers. Why not? Hollywood might have use for another illusionist to temporarily beautify a face, and the military loves its kine...

Klappentext

A teenage sorcerer’s apprentice must solve her boss’s murder in order to prove her innocence in this twisty, magic-infused murder mystery perfect for fans of Knives Out and The Inheritance Games.

Being an apprentice for one of the world's most famous sorcerers has its challenges; Tabatha Zeng just didn’t think they would include solving crime. But when her boss, the infamous fortuneteller Sorcerer Solomon, predicts his own brutal death—and worse, it comes true—Tabatha finds herself caught in the crosshairs.

The police have their sights set on her and Callum Solomon, her murdered boss’s youngest son. With suspicion swirling around them, the two decide to team up to find the real killer and clear their own names once and for all.

But solving a murder isn’t as easy as it seems, especially when the suspect list is mostly the rich, connected, and magical members of Sorcerer Solomon’s family. And Tabatha can’t quite escape the nagging voice in her head asking: just how much can she really trust Callum Solomon?

Nothing is as it seems in this quick-witted and fantastical murder mystery.

Leseprobe
The best prophecies always begin with love stories and end with tragedies. Or so it s been said by fortune tellers and sorcerers. Do you think it s true? I wonder. I used to think it was just a clever little cliché that Sorcerer Solomon leveraged to market his fortunes to an anxious audience, and I can t fault him: Who doesn t hope to play the hero of their own love story? Who doesn t dread eventual tragedy? But lately, I m beginning to believe that Sorcerer Solomon really lives by those words.

Lived. Sorry.

Please be patient. Toying with fate makes it hard to keep track of those hairline fractures between past, present, and future. When you spend all your time sneaking peeks at what s yet to come, getting persnickety about the precise order of time seems pretty rich. But I must, for my own sake, try to keep this story as clear and conventionally chronological as I can. A story, properly told, can save a life. This one, if I tell it right, might even save mine.

My parents say that I spend an alarming amount of time thinking about death for someone only seventeen. Honestly, it s a difficult subject to avoid in my line of work. It wasn t so long ago that doing the sort of things I do after school would have gotten me burned at some stake or another. People claim that the twenty-­first century has eroded the atmosphere, mysticism, and, frankly, sheer aesthetic that once elevated the practice of sorcery beyond the comprehension of mere plebes. I tell these people that if they want to hop into a time machine and get themselves murdered by history s most notorious anti-­fun police off in Puritan-­ville, Salem, Massachusetts, they re more than welcome. I m not wild about murder, myself. Which is pretty ironic, when you consider the direction my life has taken recently.

But now I m getting ahead of myself again. What did I tell you? Past, present, and future, all jumbled up in my head. So let s begin at the real beginning: my pursuit of sorcery. Not just any class of sorcery, but fortune-telling. Even among sorcerers, bona fide fortune tellers are a rare breed. You have your illusionists ­considered petty entertainers ­and your kinetics ­respectable, though a bit mainstream. But fortune tellers have always been kings among sorcerers. Why not? Hollywood might have use for another illusionist to temporarily beautify a face, and the military loves its kinetic soldiers, but if there s one thing everyone everywhere wants, it s the power to screw around with the future. And no one made the future their bitch half as well as Sorcerer Solomon could.

That was really why I began working for him, you see. I told my parents it was only because I didn t get into the academic summer intensive they wanted me to take at some Ivy League school or another. Besides, I reasoned in my best Perfect Asian Daughter voice, I wanted a vacation job that…