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Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis
Cover of Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis
Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis
The Vampire Chronicles
by Anne Rice
From Anne Rice, conjurer of the beloved best sellers Interview with the Vampire and Prince Lestat, an ambitious and exhilarating new novel of utopian vision and power

"In my dreams, I saw a city fall into the sea. I heard the cries of thousands. I saw flames that outshone the lamps of heaven. And all the world was shaken . . ." —Anne Rice, Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis

At the novel's center: the vampire Lestat de Lioncourt, hero, leader, inspirer, irresistible force, irrepressible spirit, battling (and ultimately reconciling with) a strange otherworldly form that has somehow taken possession of Lestat's undead body and soul. This ancient and mysterious power and unearthly spirit of vampire lore has all the force, history, and insidious reach of the unknowable Universe.
It is through this spirit, previously considered benign for thousands of vampire years and throughout the Vampire Chronicles, that we come to be told the hypnotic tale of a great sea power of ancient times; a mysterious heaven on earth situated on a boundless continent—and of how and why, and in what manner and with what far-reaching purpose, this force came to build and rule the great legendary empire of centuries ago that thrived in the Atlantic Ocean.
And as we learn of the mighty, far-reaching powers and perfections of this lost kingdom of Atalantaya, the lost realms of Atlantis, we come to understand its secrets, and how and why the vampire Lestat, indeed all the vampires, must reckon so many millennia later with the terrifying force of this ageless, all-powerful Atalantaya spirit.
From the Hardcover edition.
From Anne Rice, conjurer of the beloved best sellers Interview with the Vampire and Prince Lestat, an ambitious and exhilarating new novel of utopian vision and power

"In my dreams, I saw a city fall into the sea. I heard the cries of thousands. I saw flames that outshone the lamps of heaven. And all the world was shaken . . ." —Anne Rice, Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis

At the novel's center: the vampire Lestat de Lioncourt, hero, leader, inspirer, irresistible force, irrepressible spirit, battling (and ultimately reconciling with) a strange otherworldly form that has somehow taken possession of Lestat's undead body and soul. This ancient and mysterious power and unearthly spirit of vampire lore has all the force, history, and insidious reach of the unknowable Universe.
It is through this spirit, previously considered benign for thousands of vampire years and throughout the Vampire Chronicles, that we come to be told the hypnotic tale of a great sea power of ancient times; a mysterious heaven on earth situated on a boundless continent—and of how and why, and in what manner and with what far-reaching purpose, this force came to build and rule the great legendary empire of centuries ago that thrived in the Atlantic Ocean.
And as we learn of the mighty, far-reaching powers and perfections of this lost kingdom of Atalantaya, the lost realms of Atlantis, we come to understand its secrets, and how and why the vampire Lestat, indeed all the vampires, must reckon so many millennia later with the terrifying force of this ageless, all-powerful Atalantaya spirit.
From the Hardcover edition.
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  • From the book 1

    Derek

    They had been talking up there for hours. If Derek lay very still he could hear them perfectly. At this hour, the Andrássy Út was noisy above him, with its cafés and bookstores, but this damp hidden mansion of cellar chambers was quiet. And what else did Derek have to do but listen?

    Derek was a tall male with dark brown skin and large dark eyes that made him look forever young and vulnerable. His black wavy hair was parted in the middle and it had grown down just below his shoulders. An unmistakable broad blond streak grew from the center part on the left side, more golden than yellow. He wore a thin old shirt, filthy with dust, and the black dress pants he'd had on ten years ago when he'd been captured. He sat on his cot, in the corner of his prison dungeon cell, his back to the wall, his head bowed, and his arms folded as he listened.

    Roland, the evil master of the house and its prison dungeons, talked and talked.

    Roland's guest was an ancient one named Rhoshamandes. And this Rhoshamandes spoke vehemently of one called "the Prince," whom he wanted to destroy. How many of these blood drinkers were there? Others came through this house from time to time, but they never remained. Others had talked of this Prince too. Derek listened, but without hope.

    Rhoshamandes was a powerful one, Derek could hear this in his voice, and in the beating of the blood drinker's heart. Older than Roland most likely, much older, but he and Roland were friends.

    This Rhoshamandes excited Roland. It was some sort of privilege for Roland that the fabled Rhoshamandes now sought his counsel.

    Roland was the blood drinker who had taken Derek prisoner, luring him away from the opera house years ago, and locking him in this dungeon cell, beneath the city of Budapest. Roland was the one who came down the stairs at least once a week to drink Derek's blood and taunt him and laugh at him.

    Roland was rawboned, tall, painfully gaunt, with long straight white hair bound with a bronze clip at the base of his neck to leave a white streak down his back. He had the most cruel eyes Derek had ever beheld, and he smiled when he spoke, which made his most casual unpleasant remarks completely sinister.

    Derek had had years to study Roland, Roland who appeared to live in fashionable evening dress of fine-­cut dark-­tinted velvet dinner jackets with satin lapels, waistcoats of bright patterned silk, and boiled shirts with cuffs and collars as stiff as cardboard. His black patent-­leather boots appeared as simple evening shoes beneath the cuffs of his pleated trousers, and a great evening scarf with fringed edges was forever wrapped around his neck. He drained the blood of Derek without ever spilling a drop. He wore kid gloves so sleek they showed the bony knots in his fingers, and his cadaverous face with its large gray eyes was the picture of sarcastic disdain.

    Then there was Arion of the shining black skin, the wounded one, burnt and miserable, who had seen his home on the coast of Italy destroyed. He was much younger "in the Blood" than Roland, and for months he'd drunk from Derek nightly, and now he came several times a week. Arion had come to Roland in rags, and Roland had comforted him and restored him, and nursed his soul back to health as they spoke in the ancient Greek language of olden times when Rome had ruled the world and everything, it seems, had been better. Of course. Better. You could forgive human beings for such nonsense, but how forgive immortals who had lived then?

    There was a gentleness to Arion, and a pity in his heart for Derek. Derek could sense this when Arion was...
About the Author-
  • ANNE RICE is the author of thirty-five books. She lives in Palm Desert, California.
Reviews-
  • Publisher's Weekly

    October 31, 2016
    Rice teases readers with questions—what is the place called Atalantaya, and what does Amel, the Core that connects all vampires and currently resides in vampire prince Lestat, have to do with it?—for fully half of her 12th Vampire Chronicles novel (after 2014’s Prince Lestat), which spans our entire world and beyond, before a cohesive narrative coalesces around the answers. When any of the 12,000-year-old self-cloning aliens called Replimoids take center stage, there are interesting sparks. They soon fade, though, as Lestat and his confidants (and the reader) wait for anything to happen. But when Kapetria, who speaks for the Replimoids, begins to give real information to Lestat and members of his court about Amel and the Replimoids’ origins, the book finally catches fire. Initially, the concept of adding aliens to vampires, spirits, and witches is an eye roller, but Rice exhibits tremendous skill in making the impossible seem not only possible but logical. She sets up a nail-biting dilemma involving the continued existence of vampires, and the second half of the book roars satisfyingly past. Agent: Lynn Nesbit, Janklow & Nesbit.

  • Kirkus

    November 1, 2016
    Having perhaps bled all the possibilities out of earthly children of the night, Rice (Prince Lestat, 2014, etc.) takes a bite out of two big bodies of myth.Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Pity poor Prince Lestat; he was once able to roam the world without a care, nipping and frolicking, but now he has administrative duties and, with them, fresh enemies seeking a shot at power. One constant source of irritation is the stately Rhoshamandes who has suddenly come into an all-day sucker of a captive whose ever flowing juice has "nutrients that human blood does not have." A fine thing for a vampire's inventory, to be sure, but a portal as well into a world whose technology, as so often happens, has outpaced its morals. Down in that watery realm, the denizens scorn the place where "a dreadful thing had happened in that mammals had gained self-awareness and intelligence and now ruled the planet." The better to provide vampire chow, one might say. But the Atalantayans have their hungers, too, and the hungriest of them seems to have latched on to poor Lestat. Inner voice, nothing: Amel is much more than a haunting spirit, "as different from ghosts," another superevolved being tells us, "as angels are from humans." Who will prevail? Well, if Amel sometimes conjures Charlie Manson, Lestat sounds like Twiggy once the fussing and feuding between immortal domains is settled: "This is our universe," he says, "We too are made of stardust as are all things on this planet; we too belong." Yeah, well. Fans of Rice's vampire fiction will feast on whatever they can of hers, but Ignatius Donnelly/Edgar Cayce aficionados may twitch at all the "kindred in the Blood" stuff uneasily mixed in with the old lost continent mythos. Rice's latest excursion into otherly realms may leave some readers feeling overstuffed--but others, to be sure, will be hungry for more.

    COPYRIGHT(2016) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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