The Girl At Midnight by Melissa GreyThe Girl At Midnight by Melissa Grey

The Girl At Midnight

byMelissa Grey

Hardcover | April 28, 2015

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[STAR] “Sparks fly. . . . Will please fans of Cassandra Clare and Game of Thrones watchers with its remarkable world building; richly developed characters; and themes of family, power, loyalty, and romance. . . . [Book 2] cannot come soon enough!” —Booklist, Starred

For fans of Cassandra Clare's City of Bones and Laini Taylor's Daughter of Smoke & Bone, The Girl at Midnight is the story of a modern girl caught in an ancient war.
   Beneath the streets of New York City live the Avicen, an ancient race of people with feathers for hair and magic running through their veins. Age-old enchantments keep them hidden from humans. All but one. Echo is a runaway pickpocket who survives by selling stolen treasures on the black market, and the Avicen are the only family she's ever known.
   Echo is clever and daring, and at times she can be brash, but above all else she's fiercely loyal. So when a centuries-old war crests on the borders of her home, she decides it's time to act.
   Legend has it that there is a way to end the conflict once and for all: find the Firebird, a mythical entity believed to possess power the likes of which the world has never seen. It will be no easy task, though if life as a thief has taught Echo anything, it's how to hunt down what she wants . . . and how to take it.
   But some jobs aren't as straightforward as they seem. And this one might just set the world on fire.

[STAR] “[The] perfect blend of action and amour.” —Kirkus Reviews, Starred

A feisty heroine, fun supporting characters, a mission to save the world, and some seriously spicy romance.” —SLJ

“Catnip for fans of Cassandra Clare.” —BookPage.com
 
Fast-paced, action-packed, and full of laughs.” —Nerdist.com

Enthralling and pure magic, Grey’s debut is delightful!” —Romantic Times

A page-turner—I was hooked from start to finish.” —Latina Magazine

“Sharp drama that leads to a conclusion begging for a sequel.” —The Bulletin

"A must-read." —Paste magazine

"Inventive, gorgeous, and epic—Grey dazzles in her debut."— Danielle Paige, New York Times bestselling author of Dorothy Must Die

A stunning debut. Equal parts atmosphere and adventure, Melissa Grey’s The Girl at Midnight is positively divine.” —Victoria Schwab, author of A Darker Shade of Magic
Melissa Grey was born and raised in New York City. She wrote her first short story at the age of twelve and hasn’t stopped writing since. After earning a degree in fine arts at Yale University, she embarked on an adventure of global proportions and discovered a secret talent for navigating subway systems in just about any language. She...
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Title:The Girl At MidnightFormat:HardcoverDimensions:368 pages, 8.56 × 5.88 × 1.13 inPublished:April 28, 2015Publisher:Random House Children's BooksLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:038574465X

ISBN - 13:9780385744652

Reviews

Rated 1 out of 5 by from Gave up Well I gave this book a chance after reading 100+ pages and it still didn't keep me interested. Echo is annoying and childish where it concerns her 'rival' Ruby who she loathes just because Ruby likes her boyfriend Rowan. (Oh but why get so envious when you're gonna apparently fall for some other guy?) Based on some reviews I read there's the cliché love triangle between her current boyfriend and the dragon prince but I'm too bored to continue. Also, hinting at her best friend Ivy to leave so she could spend some alone time with Rowan wasn't cool either. The only thing I liked was when the author would introduce foreign words with intriguing definitions. Like tsundoku: letting books pile up without reading them or kalverliefde which means "the euphoria you experience when you fall in love for the first time". But even words like that can't keep me reading.
Date published: 2017-02-18
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Loved it I loved this book! I loved the characters and the world so much. I loved Echo's character, she was really funny and sarcastic, which I loved. She made me laugh out loud on more than one occasion. I also loved Caius and his confusion of the normal world. I loved the friendships that formed, and the excitement in the story towards the end. I loved it all. I loved it
Date published: 2017-01-12
Rated 4 out of 5 by from interesting a little boring at first then it gets really good
Date published: 2016-12-22
Rated 3 out of 5 by from Conflicted I am conflicted about my feelings towards this debut. On the one hand, the writing was really strong and it had a strong cast of characters and a really interesting world. On the other hand, it was chock full of some of my least favorite tropes, and it felt like it had a lot of really overused, recycled elements that I liked a lot more in other YA series, but that felt strange in this one. Okay, the bad first. This book reminded me a lot of two different series, Daughter of Smoke and Bone and City of Bones. As far as DOSAB is concerned, it had similar elements - human girl raised by supernatural race as one of their own, portals all over the world, fantasy bleeding into reality (especially atmospheric European cities), forbidden romance between two members of the feuding races. However, it just doesn't seem fair to GaM to compare it to DOSAB - not only could it never live up to Laini Taylor's gorgeously beautiful writing style, but it also falls short of Karou and Akiva's epic romance and Karou's legendary force of personality. Then there is The Mortal Instruments, which I love because of my initial impression when I read it and not because it's particularly well-written. GaM is comparable in writing style and skill - if not slightly better - but there were so many elements shared between the two that it ended up feeling heavily recycled. Most notably, there was the relationship between Caius and his best friend and the captain of his guard. I can't even remember this guy's name, because in my head he's just basically Alec of TMI fame. He's beautiful, but stays in the shadows and pines after our extremely manly, heroic main hero, concealing the fact that he's gay and in love with Caius even though they both know it and are just ignoring it. Then he meets the rogue player, the skilled, extremly flashy, sparkly, sexy, green-eyed man (cough Magnus cough) who forces him to confront his relationship with Caius, his sexuality, and his personal worldview as they fall in love. Basically, it's the Jace/Alec/Magnus dynamic, and it has nothing new or original. There are a lot of other elements that felt very recycled from TMI - the search for the mystical object that leads our heroine to understand her gifts and identity, the strained familial relationships, the love triangle between the best friend and the flashy new guy. (view spoiler) There was so much that felt heavily recycled, that even though it was rearranged in new and original ways, elements of other series and tropes bled into it so heavily that it was distracting and slightly off-putting. Basically, there are two comparisons here, and neither is flattering for The Girl at Midnight. The one is for Daughter of Smoke and Bone, which just isn't fair to tGaM, and the other is to The Mortal Instruments, which is so popular a series that any comparisons are going to be in its favor, and which isn't even that great of a series to start with. Then there were just the general tropes that I hate - notably, the love triangle and the boy-centered girl rivalry. Both were gross and I didn't like them. That's not to say that this debut isn't worth picking up. I loved the girl friendships and the interesting new fantasy world. If we forget that books with unforgettable writing and atmosphere like Daughter of Smoke and Bone exist, then the prose and the settings are super cool. I really liked Echo's wit and snark, as well as her personal strength and determination (when she wasn't getting confused by her boy issues.) It was really cool, and if you've never read either Daughter of Smoke and Bone, or the Mortal Instruments, then I imagine you'd really like it. But I have, and it tainted the experience for me.
Date published: 2016-12-16
Rated 2 out of 5 by from Not Worth Buying Let me start off by saying that The Girl at Midnight was beautifully written. It had a wealth of highly quotable one-liners, and the story really did flow well. Unfortunately, for the majority of the book, it simply wasn’t a good story. Or, at very least, it wasn’t a story that inspired any emotion in the reader. Therefore, I’m glad I picked it up from the library instead of buying it. While this book had a lot of promise, and a wealth of detailed world building, it suffered from a long, dull beginning, a predictable plot and a series of cringe-worthy romances. While it was well-written and the second half of the book definitely showed great improvements, the predictability and general dullness of the plot in the first half of the plot simply cannot be overlooked.
Date published: 2016-11-24
Rated 2 out of 5 by from I swear all the names come from video games I love Caius (Ballad from FF13) Altair (Assassins creed) Jasper ( The 100) I just... I was thrown for a loop reading these names but besides that...Echo is a 17 year old orphan who can see things most people cant. She lives with the avicen and shes got her trusty sidekicks, on her journey to find the firebird which is said to grant immeasurable power to the one who wields/finds it. As her life is forever changed upon meeting *spoiler * love triangle boy Caius, she is thrust into new betrayals, new trials, and a finding of ones self or rather.... finding the truth in a sea of lies and coming out ten times stronger. If you love fantasy, then this book is right for you. However...it's got some pretty easy reading, lots of fluff, and an easy plot line, and an annoying love triangle so... beware.
Date published: 2016-07-11
Rated 3 out of 5 by from For fans of teen fantasy The Girl at Midnight is a teen fantasy novel which, to me, was very similar to Cassandra Clare’s City of Bones. The story is about the ‘magic underworld’ that is happening beneath our human feet at any part of the day. There are magic spells and wards that can be placed on buildings and places to convince humans not to venture inside. One way of moving around from place to place is by using shadow dust. The protagonist is Echo, a human teenager (she’s 17). She can see this other world and knows how to move around in it. She had a tragic start in life and was practically adopted by the Ala, an Avicen (one of the magical races composed of people who are part bird and so have feathers). The Avicen’s mortal enemies are the Dharkahin (part dragon and so they have some scales), who will figure heavily in the story. Echo has made her living as a thief, jumping between continents, and learning many things. She is very resourceful and independent. Her best friend is named Ivy and she is an apprentice-healer. Her boyfriend is named Rowan, and he is a warrior. The story centres around a search for a mystical object – something that not everyone is sure is real – the firebird. Everyone who believes in its existence wants to possess it because it could be an unimaginable source of power. Echo starts tracking clues and runs into someone else who want to find/possess it – Caius, the dragon prince, a Dharkahin. Caius is 250 years old. His best friend/man-at-arms is named Dorian and Dorian feels a little more than friendship or loyalty to the king. His twin sister is named Tannith and she is determined to secure the throne and the object for herself. Circumstances collide in the book and force an uneasy alliance between Echo, Caius, Dorian, Ivy, and Jasper (a colleague of Echo’s who feels an instant attraction to Dorian). The world-building in this book was well done and supported the constant action scenes well. The quality of the writing was on-point and almost poetic at times. I started this book super excited and fully ready to give it a full five stars because of the intriguing premise. When I finished it, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to give it the full five stars. Why? Because it was a little too similar to other teen fantasy books that I have read lately and also (and this is a personal thing); I don’t like love triangles. I will say that I was genuinely surprised by certain events that happened in the last 10 percent of the book. These end surprises made it a three and a half star read instead of a 2 and a half star read for me.
Date published: 2016-06-05
Rated 3 out of 5 by from Fantasy with heavy love interest This novel centers around two different races and how they struggle to coincide. It demonstrates how minor differences can wrench people apart and cause wars. This book also demonstrates that the willingness to sacrifice oneself for friendship is a power that overcomes all others. Personally, I struggled to accept several of the romances that developed/or were left behind during this story. Overall, Girl at Midnight would be a good story to help children with negative home lives realize they can still reach their full potential and become their own hero, as the main character has done.
Date published: 2016-05-31
Rated 5 out of 5 by from I love this book But then again, I lobe every book I've ever read.... and finished..... and enjoyed. But now I have to wait for a sequel and I don't want to. Oh well. And that Ruby chick can go die... again.... or not. What's her real name???
Date published: 2015-05-20
Rated 3 out of 5 by from Nothing memorable. A quest for a fantastical object. An orphan with special powers. Two warring races. Two attractive love interests. This book basically checks off every standard YA fantasy box without managing to add anything particularly noteworthy. If you've read Daughter of Smoke and Bone, this book sounds awfully familiar. The book starts off so strong...and immediately withers under the weight of teenage hormones. Main characters, if you could stop staring into each other's eyes and devote as much attention to the war that might break out, the plot would be infinitely more interesting. The author's saving grace is her ability to write beautiful settings. I especially enjoyed the global locations the protagonist visits. But I wouldn't recommend this to anyone who wasn't a fan of romance-heavy fantasy. This is the typical case of a love story trying to pass itself off as fantasy.
Date published: 2015-04-23

Read from the Book

CHAPTER ONE 10 YEARS LATER Echo lived her life according to two rules, the first of which was simple: don’t get caught. She stepped gingerly into the antiques shop nestled deep in a back alley of Taipei’s Shilin Night Market. Magic shimmered around the entrance like waves of air rising from hot cement on a sizzling summer’s day. If Echo looked at it dead-on, she saw nothing but an unmarked metal door, but when she angled her head just right, she caught the faint gleam of protective wards, the kind that made the shop all but invisible, except to those who knew what they were looking for. The neon light that filtered in from the market was the only illumination in the shop. Shelves lined the walls, packed with antiques in varied states of disrepair. A dis­mantled cuckoo clock lay on the table in the center of the room, its bird dangling from a sad, limp spring. The warlock that owned the shop specialized in enchanting mundane objects, some of which had more nefarious purposes than others. The darkest spells left behind a residue, though Echo had been around magic long enough to be able to sense it, like a chill up her spine. As long as she avoided those objects, she’d be fine. Most of the items on the table were either too rusty or too broken to be an option. A silver hand mirror was marred by a crack that divided its face in two. A rusted clock ticked away the seconds in reverse. Two halves of a heart-shaped locket lay in pieces, as if someone had smashed it with a hammer. The only object that appeared to be in working order was a music box. Its enamel paint was chipped and worn, but the flock of birds that graced its lid was drawn in lovely, elegant lines. Echo flipped the top open and a familiar tune drifted from the box as a tiny black bird rotated on its stand. The magpie’s lullaby, she thought, slipping her backpack off her shoulders. The Ala would love it, even if the concept of birthdays and the presents that accompanied them was all but lost on her. Echo’s hand was inches from the music box when the lights flared on. She snapped her head around to find a warlock standing in the shop’s doorway. His chalky white eyes, the only thing that marked him as not quite human, zeroed in on Echo’s hand. “Caught you.” Crap. Some rules, it would seem, were meant to be broken. “It’s not what it looks like,” Echo said. It wasn’t her finest explanation, but it would have to do. The warlock lifted a single eyebrow. “Really? Because it looks like you were planning on stealing from me.” “Okay, so I guess it’s exactly what it looks like.” Echo’s eyes darted to a point behind the warlock. “Holy— What is that?” For just a second, the warlock glanced over his shoulder, but it was all Echo needed. She grabbed the music box and shoved it in her bag, slinging the pack over her shoulder as she rushed forward, slamming into the warlock. He crashed to the floor with a shout as Echo bolted into the market square. Rule number two, Echo thought, snagging a pork bun from a food stall as she sailed past it. If you do get caught, run. The pavement was slick with the day’s drizzle, and her boots skidded as she turned a corner. The market was teeming with shoppers packed in shoulder to shoulder, and the rich odors of street cuisine mixed in the balmy air. Echo bit into the bun, wincing at the steam that burned her tongue. Hot, but delicious. It was a universal truth that stolen food tasted better than food that wasn’t stolen. Echo hopped over a murky puddle and nearly choked on a mouthful of sticky bread and roasted pork. Eating while running was harder than it looked. She squeezed through the crowd, dodging rickety carts and gawking pedestrians. Sometimes being small paid off. The warlock on her tail was having a tougher time of it. Tourist-grade china clattered to the ground as he crashed into the pork bun stall and let loose a flurry of curses. Echo’s Mandarin was sparse, but she was pretty sure he’d just lobbed a barrage of colorful insults at her and her parentage. People got so touchy when their things were stolen. Especially warlocks. Echo ducked beneath a low-hanging awning and glanced over her shoulder. The warlock had fallen behind, and there was a respectable amount of distance between them now. She took another bite of pork bun, crumbs flying. A magic-wielding psycho with a grudge might have been hot on her heels, but she hadn’t eaten since the slice of cold pizza she’d had for breakfast. Hunger waited for no woman. The warlock shouted for a pair of policemen to stop her as she blew past them. Fingers glanced against her sleeve, but she was gone before they found purchase. Fan-flipping-tastic, Echo thought, fighting the ache building in her muscles. Almost there. The brightly lit sign for the Jiantan metro station came into view, and she gasped with relief. Once she was in the station, all she had to do was find a door, any door, and she would be gone in a puff of smoke. Or rather, a puff of sooty black powder. Echo dropped the remainder of the pork bun into a nearby bin and rummaged in her pocket for the small pouch she never left home without. She catapulted herself over the turnstile, tossing a cursory “Sorry!” at the flummoxed station attendant as the stampede of booted feet closed in. There was a utility closet on the platform less than fifty yards ahead that Echo knew would do nicely. She dug her fingers into the pouch to capture a handful of powder. Shadow dust. It was a generous amount, but the leap from Taipei to Paris was hardly a modest one. Better to be safe than sorry, even if it meant running perilously low for the trip back to New York. Echo smeared the dust against the doorjamb and hurtled through it. The warlock shouted at her, but his cry, along with the sound of trains pulling into the station and the buzz of conversation on the platform, died as soon as the door shut behind her. For a brief moment, all was darkness. It wasn’t nearly as disorienting as it had been the first time she’d traveled through the in-between places of the world, but it never stopped being strange. In the empty space between all the heres and all the theres, there was no up, down, left, or right. With every step, the ground shifted and warped beneath her feet. Echo swallowed the bile rising in her throat and thrust her hand out, deaf and blind in the vacuum of darkness. When her palm connected with the peeling paint of a door beneath the Arc de Triomphe, she sighed with relief. The Arc was a popular way station for travelers of the in-between. With any luck, the warlock would have a hell of a time tracking her. Tracing a person’s progress through the in-between was difficult but not impossible, and the warlock’s dark magic would make it that much easier for him. As much as Echo loved Paris in the spring, she wouldn’t be able to stay for long. It was a shame, she thought. The parks were lovely this time of year. She made her way to the opposite end of the Arc, scanning the crowd for the familiar sight of a cap pulled low to hide a shock of vibrant feathers coupled with a pair of aviators worth more than her entire wardrobe. Jasper was one of her more mercurial contacts, but he was usually true to his word. She was about to give up and pick a door to ferry her back to New York when she saw it: a flash of bronze skin and the glare of sunglasses. Jasper waved, and Echo broke into a grin before cutting through the crowd at a brisk clip. Her voice was breathy with exertion when she reached him. “You got the stuff?” she asked. Jasper slid a small turquoise box out of his messenger bag, and Echo noticed that the door beside him already had a smear of shadow dust on its frame. Jasper could be thoughtful when he tried, which wasn’t very often. “Have I ever let you down?” he said. Echo smiled. “Constantly.” Jasper’s grin was equal parts dazzling and feral. He tossed the box to Echo with a wink strong enough to penetrate the reflective glass of his aviators. Echo popped up onto her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. She was through the door and into the in-between before he could summon a witty retort. She’d once told Jasper that he could have the last word when he pried it from her cold dead hands, and she meant it. Crossing the threshold into the in-between was less jarring the second time around, but the contents of Echo’s stomach still gave a mighty heave. She groped through the black, grimacing when her hands made contact with something solid. The doors leading to Grand Central Station were always grimy, even on this side of the in-between. New York, she thought. The city that never cleans. Echo exited into one of the corridors branching out from the main concourse. She paced around the information booth at its center, weaving between gaggles of tourists taking pictures of the constellations on the ceiling and commuters awaiting their trains. Not one of them knew there was an entire world beneath their feet, invisible to human eyes. Well, to most human eyes. As in the warlock’s shop, one had to know what one was looking for. She’d give the warlock a handful of minutes to make an appearance. If he’d managed to follow her from the Arc, she wanted to make sure she didn’t lead him to her front door. Echo had no proof, but she was certain that warlocks made for terrible houseguests. Her stomach rumbled. A few bites of pork bun wasn’t going to cut it. She spared a thought for the hidden room in the New York Public Library that she called home, and the half-eaten burrito she’d left sitting on her desk. Earlier that day, she’d swiped it from an unsuspecting college student as he napped, head pillowed on a battered copy of Les Misérables. There had been poetry to that minor act of thievery. It was the only reason she’d done it. She didn’t need to steal food to survive, as she had when she was a child, but some opportunities were too good to pass up. Echo rolled her neck, letting the tension that had built up in her muscles work its way down her arms and out her fingers. Inch by inch, she let herself relax, listening to the rumble of trains in and out of the station. It was as soothing as a lullaby. With a final glance around the concourse, she hefted her bag over her shoulder and headed toward the Vanderbilt Avenue exit. Home was a scant few blocks west of Grand Central, and there was a stolen burrito with her name on it. CHAPTER TWO Two kinds of people camped out in the New York Public Library so late at night. There were the scholars: Caffeine-addled college students. Obsessively meticulous PhD candidates. Ambitious academics angling for tenure. And then there were the people who had nowhere else to go: People who sought solace in the comforting musk of old books and the quiet sounds of other humans breathing, turning pages, and stretching in their creaky wooden chairs. People who wanted to know that they weren’t alone while being left alone. People like Echo. She moved through the library like a ghost, feet quieter than a whisper over its marble steps. It was late enough that no one bothered to raise their eyes from their books to take notice of a young woman, dressed in head-to-toe black, slinking around where she had no business. Echo had long ago established a route that led around staff members counting the minutes until they got off work. She didn’t need to worry about security cameras. America’s librarians fought valiantly to keep their readers’ privacy protected, and the library was a camera-free zone. It was one of the reasons why she’d chosen to make it her home. She slipped through the library’s narrow stacks, breathing in the familiar smell of stale books. As she climbed the darkened stairwell leading to her room, the air thickened with magic. The wards that the Ala had helped Echo set up pushed back at her, but the resistance was weak. They were designed to recognize her. Had anyone else stumbled upon the staircase, they would have turned back, remembering that they’d left the stove on or were running late for a meeting, but the spell rebounded off her. At the top of the stairs was a door, as beige and plain as any other utility closet, but it too had magic all its own. Echo slipped her Swiss Army knife from her back pocket and flicked it open. She pressed the tip of the small knife into the pad of her pinkie and watched a bead of blood well up. “By my blood,” Echo whispered. She touched the drop of scarlet to the door, and the air crackled with electricity, raising the fine hairs at the back of her neck. A quiet click sounded, and the door unlocked. Just as she did every time she entered the cramped room overflowing with treasures she’d liberated over the years, she kicked the door shut behind her and said, to no one in particular, “Honey, I’m home.” The silence that answered was a welcome change from the shrill symphony of Taipei and the cacophonous crowds of New York at rush hour. Echo slung her bag onto the floor beside the writing desk she’d salvaged from the library’s recycling pile and collapsed on her chair. She flicked on the fairy lights strung around the room, casting the cozy space in a warm glow. Before her lay the burrito she’d been dreaming about, surrounded by the odds and ends that decorated every available surface of her room. There were tiny jade elephants from Phuket. Geodes from amethyst mines in South Korea. An original Fabergé egg, encrusted with rubies and trimmed with gold. Surrounding it all were stacks of books, crammed on every available surface, piled on top of each other in teetering towers. Some Echo had read a dozen times, others not at all. Their presence itself was a comfort. She hoarded them just as eagerly as she hoarded her other treasures. Her seven-year-old self had decided that stealing books was morally bankrupt, but since the books hadn’t actually left the library—they’d merely been relocated—it wasn’t technically stealing. Echo looked around at her sea of tomes, and a single word came to mind: tsundoku. It was the Japanese word for letting books pile up without reading them all. Words were another thing Echo hoarded. She’d started that collection long before she’d ever come to the library, back when she lived in a house she preferred not to remember, with a family she’d have been happier forgetting. Back then, the only books she’d had belonged to a set of outdated encyclopedias. She’d had few possessions to call her own, but she’d always had her words. And now she had a trove full of stolen treasures, some more edible than others. She raised the burrito to her lips, poised to take a bite, when the sound of fluttering feathers interrupted her. Only one person had the ability to bypass her wards without raising a single alarm, and she never bothered to knock. Echo sighed. Rude. “You know, I’ve heard that in some cultures,” Echo began, “people knock. But then, that could just be idle gossip.” She swiveled in her chair, burrito in hand. The Ala sat on the corner of Echo’s bed, black feathers ruffling gently, as if caught on a breeze. But there was no breeze. There was only the Ala and the slight charge to the air that accompanied her power. “Don’t be moody,” the Ala said, smoothing her arm feathers. “It makes you sound positively adolescent.” Echo took an exaggerated bite of the burrito and spoke around a mouthful of rice and beans. “Truth in advertising.” The Ala frowned. Echo swallowed. “I am adolescent.” If Echo had abysmal table manners, the Ala had only herself to blame. “Only when it suits you,” the Ala said. Chewing with her mouth open was a perfectly reasonable response as far as Echo was concerned. “Anyway,” the Ala sighed, surveying the shelves over­flowing with shiny knickknacks of every variety, “I’m glad you’ve returned, my little magpie. Steal anything nice today?” Echo pushed her backpack toward the Ala with a toe. “As a matter of fact, I did. Happy birthday.” The Ala tutted, but the sound was more pleased than disappointed. “I don’t understand your obsession with birthdays. I’m far too old to remember mine.” “I know, and that’s why I assigned one to you,” Echo said. “Now open it. My bacon was almost burned by a warlock getting that thing.”

Editorial Reviews

Praise for the Girl at Midnight series: “Inventive, gorgeous and epic.” —Danielle Paige, New York Times bestselling author of Dorothy Must Die   “A stunning debut. . . . Equal parts atmosphere and adventure, Melissa Grey’s The Girl at Midnight is positively divine.” —Victoria Schwab, author of A Darker Shade of Magic   “Catnip for fans of Cassandra Clare.” —BookPage.com   “An action- and angst-packed installment reminiscent of Buffy and Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere.” —Kirkus Reviews  ★ “Sparks fly. . . . Will please fans of Cassandra Clare and Game of Thrones watchers with its remarkable world building; richly developed characters; and themes of family, power, loyalty, and romance.” —Booklist, Starred   “A must-read.” —Paste magazine   “You are going to love Echo.” —Bustle.com   “A feisty heroine, fun supporting characters, a mission to save the world, and some seriously spicy romance.” —SLJ “Catnip for fans of Cassandra Clare.” —BookPage.com   “Fast-paced, action-packed, and full of laughs.” —Nerdist.com “Enthralling and pure magic, Grey’s debut is delightful!” —Romantic Times “A page-turner—I was hooked from start to finish.” —Latina magazine