The Poison Diaries: Nightshade

By Maryrose Wood and The Duchess of Northumberland

Sixteen-year-old Jessamine Luxton is heartbroken. Her true love, Weed, the strange but intriguing young man who came into her life so suddenly, has disappeared. How could he have left her with no farewell, and no word since?

Jessamine may not know why Weed vanished, but she does suspect that her own father, Thomas, may have had something to do with it. Thomas, who was so obsessed with Weed’s secret knowledge of dangerous plants that he would do anything to learn it. This suspicion—and her experiences with poisons—has changed her. She is no longer innocent, and now she has her own intimate knowledge of the power of the plants.

So when Jessamine learns that Weed is alive, she will do whatever it takes to be reunited with him.

She is, after all, her father’s daughter. . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Oct 25, 2011
• ISBN: 9780062098368

Maryrose Wood

Maryrose Wood is the author of the first five books (so far!) in this series about the Incorrigible children and their governess. These books may be considered works of fiction, which is to say, the true bits and the untrue bits are so thoroughly mixed together that no one should be able to tell the difference. This process of fabrication is fully permitted under the terms of the author's Poetic License, which is one of her most prized possessions. Maryrose's other qualifications for writing these tales include a scandalous stint as a professional thespian, many years as a private governess to two curious and occasionally rambunctious pupils, and whatever literary insights she may have gleaned from living in close proximity to a clever but disobedient dog.

Book preview

I WAKE, AS I usually do, to the sound of Weed’s voice. It rustles in my ear as I sleep. It skitters through my dreams like autumn leaves along the ground. My skin warms, my breath quickens. The memories come unbidden.

It is early spring, before I became ill. Weed and I are on one of our long rambles through the rolling green fields of Northumberland. He tells me strange fables, one after another, of a world where plants can speak, and all forms of life are of equal worth: humans, animals, and plants, too.

I laugh, because the tales are so marvelous. He turns to me, solemn faced, and I explain my reaction.

Marvelous? You may find them so. The trees are quite serious when they tell them.

But it is only a tale, a story—even to the trees, is it not? Look, here is a lovely place for our picnic. Shall we stop?

How foolish I was then. How wrong I was, about so many things.

I thought love was a rare orchid that bloomed only once—but once it bloomed, it bloomed forever.

I thought that with the death of my mother, so many years ago, the worst of my life had already come and gone.

I thought my father would protect me from harm.

Was I wrong about Weed as well? Every time I draw breath I catch the earth scent of him. I lie motionless in my bed, alone in my tower bedchamber. A summer breeze floats through the open shutters, and I feel the tenderness of his kiss.

The last time I saw him I was dying. My mind flew with dark wings, and I looked down on my own pain-wracked body as if it belonged to another. I had nightmare visions of a strange prince who fed me poison, who wooed and tormented me, who showed me bloody scenes and unspeakable evils—evils wrought by my father.

My heart still pounds when I recall those hellish dreams. I thought I would not survive them. There were times I did not wish to.

More memories play on my half-closed eyelids as the morning sun tries to pry them open: Weed sitting at my bedside, spooning medicine to my lips. Wiping my brow. Gazing at me in love and grief, his moss-green eyes bright with tears.

Then he was gone. He lost hope and left. Too faithless to stay by my side until the end, he abandoned me at the worst point of my illness. That is what Father said, after my fever finally broke and I gasped and cried my way back to life, like a second birth.

He is gone, and good riddance. He is a coward and a trickster. You are not the first maiden to be fooled by such a scoundrel. Bear your shame alone now; marry your work, and forget him, for you will not see him again. Father said it coldly, and not without satisfaction.

Of course, what Father says cannot always be believed. But Weed is gone; that much is true. There has been no word, and now the summer draws to a close.

I stretch and turn beneath the cool linen sheet. I flex each limb and yawn, like a waking cat. Am I well? It is hard to say. In some ways I am stronger than I was. I am less trusting, less innocent. I have thoughts, sometimes, that I barely recognize as my own. I feel capable of things that I never would have dreamed of before.

I have even taken over my father’s healing practice. I had to; Father is too busy now, or too indifferent, to tend to people’s ills as he used to. With my knowledge of plants, it was not difficult to learn the basic cures, and they are most of what any healer needs. One fever, croup, or childbirth pang is much like another.

Once I walked through Northumberland hooded and silent, too shy to speak, too unimportant to approach. Now I am known and respected, and even a little bit feared. I do not mind that.

But there is an ache within, an empty place. My heart, once lush with joy, now lies fallow. Everything tastes like dust.

Weed, I have whispered a thousand times as I wandered alone through the meadows of Hulne Park. Where are you? Why did you leave? When will you come back to me? But the dull, ocean roar of the grass is the only answer I receive.

Tell him I love him still, I weep into the bark of an ancient pine. Tell him for me, please.

Still, I get no reply.

I long to drift back to sleep and bury myself in the bittersweet dream of all that I have lost. But I must rise and dress. It is Sunday.

Yes, I go to church on Sundays, now. I go alone, for my father worships no god but knowledge. The tested, proven theories of long-dead men, as recorded in the musty books in the duke’s library—those are his only sacred texts.

I myself have sometimes wondered what force could have put so many kinds of life on the earth, and made us need each other so, and hurt each other so, but I have not yet conceived of an answer. Still, to church I go, three miles on foot in the hot August haze. It is for my own protection. A woman who knows how to heal will always be suspected of witchcraft in these parts. The witch laws were struck down before I was born, but the people fear what they fear.

This is the north of England, after all; it is beautiful and raw here, and the land, the wind, and the sea have minds of their own. The people do, too. The north is not London, where the latest fashion is always best. In the north, the new is suspect, and the old ways die hard.

Like an apparition I glide silently into the chapel, so that everyone may see I am a virtuous and God-fearing young woman, and that my powers, such as they are, are drawn from nothing more sinister than a sprig of feverfew, a tisane of chamomile, or a paste of crushed garlic and cloves.

Good morning, Miss Luxton, the people murmur as I pass. Good day and good health to you. When they ask about my father, and wonder why he no longer goes out, I say he is busy with his apothecary garden, or studying ancient cures at the duke’s library at Alnwick Castle. The truth is that since my recovery, his frequent dark moods have knit themselves into a ceaseless gloom. He works day and night, in his study or in the garden. At mealtimes he is silent; when we pass each other in the hall, he barely looks at me.

I thought I was alone before, before Weed came and I had only Father’s stern presence for company. Now Father is as lost to me as Weed is.

I sit stiff backed in a pew, not far from the church doors. I stand when the preacher asks us to stand. I kneel when he tells us to kneel. When it is time to sing hymns, I raise my voice with the congregation, not so loudly that I draw attention to myself, but with enough force to be heard.

When the service is over I linger, my head bowed. Those who would beg my help approach me in turn: Miss Luxton, the baby won’t stop coughing. Miss Luxton, a week’s come and gone and the wound won’t heal. Miss Luxton, it’s near my time, I need something to ease the birth pangs, will you come right away if I send my girl for you?

One after another they tell me their aches, their pains, their worries. I nod in sympathy and promise to come when needed. Then I follow my fellow worshippers through the door, stepping from the cool, damp air of the church into the merciless noonday sun.

The preacher speaks to each one of us as we exit, gazing into our eyes, clasping our hands. He tells us to believe, so that we may be saved. "Hellfire is a thousand times hotter than this, he warns, shaking a finger to the sky. A thousand times a thousand! But you must believe!"

Outside the church the people gather in small, frightened groups and whisper, The end of the world is nigh.

They are righter than they know.

There—it has happened again. The words appear in my mind as if someone spoke them aloud. But there is no one here. It is as if my thoughts are not entirely my own.

And the voice—it chills my blood to admit it—but I have come to realize that I know that voice. It is the voice from my nightmares. The voice of the evil prince.

He calls himself Oleander. The Prince of Poisons.

Shaken, I walk home from church, lay down my light summer shawl, eat a simple lunch of bread and cheese, alone. The cottage is quiet. Father must be out wandering the fields, or brooding behind the tall gate of his locked garden.

Once I thought of it as his apothecary garden, but now I know better. Those plants are poison, and the garden is something unnatural—a living weapon. Weed told me as much.

Your father has done me a great service, planting that garden. I hope he is not fool enough to think he is its master.

The words snake through my head, slow and inexorable, like oil spreading over water.

If so, he will pay the price someday, for that garden already has a master. One who will allow no pretenders to the throne.

There is a rap at the door.

I startle. Am I losing my mind? Is the dark prince of my nightmares standing outside my cottage this instant?

A charming thought, lovely. But I have no need of doors. All the locked gates in the world could not contain me. I enter when and where I wish. I hold the key to every poisoned heart.

The rap comes again, insistent. I remember the woman at church, the one who was heavy with child. Perhaps her pains have started. Trying to shake off this strange bout of madness, I grab my shawl and my medical bag and hurry to the door.

I am ready, I begin to say, but two men stand before me. Local men, both farmers. I have seen them before, at market day. Their awkward bulk fills the doorframe and blocks the slanted afternoon light.

Miss Luxton?

Yes.

The taller man glances at the bag in my hands. Might we come in for a moment and speak with you? It won’t take long.

I bid them enter and show them to the parlor, but I remain standing. I would ask you to sit, but as you see I was just on my way out, I say, gesturing with my bag. I trust you are not ill? That is the usual reason for strangers to appear at my door.

The men shake their heads and glance uncomfortably around the room, with its vaulted ceiling and tall, arched windows. Long ago this cottage was a chapel. Now it is our home. Is that why I am I being cursed with this strange madness? I think. Can the echo of a thousand unanswered prayers ever truly fade? Can a chapel be haunted?

My uneasy visitors wring their hats in their hands. The tall man speaks. Sorry to detain you, Miss Luxton. We’re from the Association for the Prosecution of Criminal Acts and Undesirables. Me and Horace, here, we’re making inquiries in the neighborhood, regarding the matter of—well, a missing person, you might say.

Dead person, he means. His companion scowls. Don’t drag this out, Ned, I’ll be wanting supper soon, and it’s a long way home on foot.

Missing person—dead person. Surely they cannot mean Weed? I bite my lip hard, and use the pain to steady myself.

The one called Ned swallows and nods. Miss Luxton, there was a traveling preacher who came and went through these parts. ‘Repent, repent,’ you know the type—anyways, the man hasn’t been seen for some time. A week ago his Bible turns up near the crossroads, buried deep in a hedge of bramble. A farmer from Alnwick found it. One of his lambs got tangled up in the thorns, see, and he had to cut out the branches to free it. It was a bit worse for the rain and sun—the Bible, I mean—but you could still read the name on the flyleaf.

Ned pauses and wipes his face with a simple cotton square he extracts from a pocket. Forgive me, miss. There’s more, but it’s not an easy story to tell to a young lady like yourself. Not far from the Bible was … was…

A pile of bones, Horace interrupts. Human bones. Picked so clean you’d think they’d been boiled for soup. He cleans his teeth with his own dirty fingernail, as if to demonstrate.

His words bore into me, releasing a gush of dread from some deep reservoir inside. The ravens of Hulne Park do their work swiftly, I say, masking my fear. I hope you will follow their good example, gentlemen. Why are you here?

The truth is, miss, we don’t much care what happened to this fellow. Good riddance, one might say. Who wants to hear all that gloom and doom? But as it turns out, the preacher had a wife, and they both were members of our association. Dues paid in full. Horace shakes his head in disappointment. Which means that we two are stuck with the job of investigating.

Couldn’t happen at a worse time, either, Ned adds. Right in the middle of the harvest.

Was it murder? I say the word as if it meant nothing horrible—murder, murder, murder—a word like any other.

Horace snorts, a contemptuous laugh. A man’s bleached bones don’t just fall out of the sky, do they?

God alone knows what happened. Ned rolls his eyes heavenward. "And God alone metes final justice. But that don’t mean we can shut our eyes to this business. The association must perform its duty, Miss Luxton. That’s why we’re here. Allow me to ask: Do you have

Reviews for The Poison Diaries

[akmargie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Whoa, this book went to some seriously dark places. Like crossed over from gothic into straight up horror. I mean for a writer who's other series is about a Mary Poppins-like nanny taking care of three rambunctious wolf-like kids, Wood goes there. And doesn't come back. I'm excited and terrified for the next book. Good job there.

[corazie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Again, I picked this book up at Alnwick Castle - I have never seen it in bookshops (even local ones) and I'd regretted not buying 1 and 2 at the same time in May, as I had to wait two months to get hold of this one.

Want to enhance your reading of this book? Visit the Alnwick Gardens the the Poison Garden there. It will make everything come alive.

An easy read that I thoroughly enjoyed, which now makes me think of summer and parties.

[darkfaerietales_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Review courtesy of Dark Faerie Tales.Quick & Dirty: This is a dark tale filled with betrayal, passion, and murder. With interesting characters and a fascinating plot.Opening Sentence: I wake, as I usually do, to the sound of Weed’s voice.The Review: Jessamine is devastated. She survived the strange illness that over took her body recently, but she woke to find that her beloved Weed had abandoned her. She was brought back to health by her father and he told her that Weed no longer cared for her and fled. She never quite believed him, and she had strange dreams while she was ill. Dreams of her father and his true nature. As the seasons pass Jessamine becomes more and more desperate to find Weed. Help comes in an unexpected way. Prince Oleander is the Prince of Poison and he offers to help reunite Jessamine with Weed. The Prince is from the poison garden, he is not flesh and blood but his influence is all too real. He has a steep price that must be paid for his help: Jessamine must kill her father. After the deed is done Jessamine abandons the only home she has ever known and the Dark Prince is her only companion. As she searches for Weed, the Dark Prince pulls her more and more into his dark web until she is no longer the girl she used to be. She becomes an assassin for hire, and soon she loses herself and starts to forget. She still loves Weed but will he love the girl she has become?Weed left Jessamine to save her life. He left to live in the forest by himself where he still could ask the plants how his beautiful Jessamine faired. He soon comes to learn that she has left her home and is under the power of the Dark Poison Prince. Weed knows that Jessamine needs help but he has no way of finding her. He asks the plants for help but they refuse to give it out of fear. He decides to travel to a special garden in Venice to seek help from the plants there. Upon arrival, he is able to learn much about his talent and the evil plot the Prince is planning. He knows that Jessamine is in trouble and he hopes that he can save her before it is too late.Jessamine was a very interesting character in this book. She changes drastically from the first book. She was so innocent and naïve before and now she has become quite a vixen. She felt so lost after Weed left that she turns to the evil Prince for comfort. She becomes a murderer with no remorse and no feelings. The only thing that stirs her old self is the thought of Weed. I liked this version of Jessamine a little bit better than the first book. It felt like she actually did something instead of just standing idly by while her life slips away. She still is very easily persuaded which is frustrating. I don’t like the decisions she makes in this book, but I found her intriguing.Weed grows to be a better person. He still loves Jessamine very much, but I feel that he won’t let his love for her hinder his decisions as much. He is very devoted to Jessamine and he does everything in his power to be with her again. He knows that she isn’t herself right now and he is a very forgiving person for he too is not perfect. I felt that he was able to take his evil side and use it for good. I really enjoyed his character and I am excited to see where his story leads.This book was darker and more sinister than the first one. The plot kept me very interested the whole way through. I loved the story and I quite enjoyed getting to know the characters better. It was interesting to read from Jessamine’s point of view now that she has become more of a villain than a heroine, but I found that I really enjoyed it. There was defiantly a cliffhanger ending and I honestly can’t wait for the next book to come out. I would highly recommend this series to fans of dark fantasy books it will not disappoint.Notable Scene:Thank you for your bounty, Oleander, Prince of Poisons, I think. Thank you for all that Mr. Pratt has already received, and all that my father is receiving still, as the poison twists like bramble in his gut, burns within his brain, presses like a boulder upon his heart.I am ready. I see myself in the mirror: myself, and not myself. Father thought I had grown to look like my mother. No more.I pause for a moment on my way out of the cottage, to say a silent good-bye to my kitchen garden, my cooking herbs and medicinal plants, my teas and dyes. They have served me well, for so many years. I am sorry they will soon be neglected and over grown.But that is the way of gardens. Old plants wither, and new ones sprout. The strongest plants survive at the expense of the weak. Even the most well-tended bed turns to a jungle in a season, without the gardener’s restraining hand.You learn quickly, lovely. I am impressed.Take me to Weed. I am ready.FTC Advisory: Harper Collins provided me with a copy of Nightshade. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review.

[oboyledbooks · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Now, if you have not read The Poison Diaries then you need to get out there and pick up a copy. I also would like to make it known that I LOVE the cover art. It is what drew me to this series. I started reading The Poison Diaries without even knowing what it was about. I think that makes for a great cover. I liked the first book, but the second book was just packed full of intrigue. Whereas the first book was set all at Jessamine's cottage this one takes you across the English countryside and ends in Italy.If you have not read the first book I would stop reading now because I cannot promise there will not be a few spoilers to the first book. I will do my best to not give too much away for those that are patiently waiting for October 25th to get here.The story starts where the other ended. Jessamine is still living with her Father at the cottage, but she no longer has that innocent glow about her. She has been changed by her sickness, the departure of Weed, and has lost all her faith in her father. Weed is sulking far away from Jessamine and seems to have no real purpose now that he has lost Jessamine. The best thing about this book compared to the first is that it is action paced from here on out. I mean it was like overload with all the changes that were taking place. Jessamine makes a deal with Oleander (Prince of Poisons) that if she does what he asks, then Oleander promises to lead her to Weed. But if we learned anything from the first book that is going to come at a steep price.Jessamine truly becomes a different person as she follows Oleander's instructions. Even changes her name, personality, and physical features (hair, sink color, and dress). It was interested to see how Wood takes Jessamine to these different places and watching her change into what Oleander wants is hard at times. You are cheering for this innocent girl to hang on to all she was, while watching her lose herself. The book switches between Jessamine and Weed, which was fantastic because I really enjoyed the little bit of narration we received from his perspective in first book. Weed decides to ignore Oleander and return to Jessamine, but as with most romance books it was too late. His decision to stop wallowing in self pity was what made his changes so great. In the first book he was this scared little weed hiding in the cellar and you start to see him change into this complex man. After reading all of Thomas Luxton's book of horrors it leads him to go to the Orto Botanico di Padova at the University of Padua, Italy. Weed believes that he will find the answer to where Jessamine is and how to help her if he just makes it there, Signora Baglioni does not disappoint.I do not want to give away too much of the amazing details of Nightshade because I truly believe it is best to take the roller coaster ride yourself. This one ends without a true cliffhanger, but more of a "I have no idea where this story is going!" I would not be surprised to see a certain character show up in the final book, but unless you have read both books I cannot tell you who. Just know you heard it here first if that character does show up. I loved the bits of history included in story, especially the use of Mithradates VI Eupator, King of Pontos. Those who are history people will love how Wood does not vary too much from his actual story.The Poison Diaries: Nightshade was very enjoyable to read and I think I liked it more than the first book because so much was happening in this book. It will be interesting to see how this series ends which is currently expected to be out in April of 2012, so a great birthday idea for me.

[nbmars · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Note: This review is a bit spoilery regarding the first book of the trilogy. The review is NOT spoilery for the second book, except for the Discussion Section.This is the second installment of a trilogy set in the 1700’s in England, of which only the first two volumes have yet been published. In the first, we learned that Jessamine Luxton, a beautiful young girl of 16, has learned healing arts from her father Thomas. She falls in love with a young man, Weed, who has come to live with them, but then she becomes mysteriously ill. At the end of the first volume, she has recovered, but at the price of her own soul, and that of Weed’s. Her father’s soul, she discovered, was already lost. At the beginning of volume two, Jessamine leaves her home to find Weed, who has disappeared. As she travels to London though, she is not alone, but accompanied by a dark force unleashed by her father’s garden of poisonous plants. By the time Weed finds her, she is not the girl she used to be, and Weed must take his own journey to try and save her from the depths of self-destruction.Discussion: This is one of the darkest YA books I’ve read in a long time. A hint of what is to come can be found in the heroine's name. Jessamine was named for the vine with the botanical name Gelsemium sempervirens, sometimes referred to as yellow jasmin. One of the most notable attributes of the plant is the beautiful fragrant flower it produces, but all parts of the plant are extremely poisonous. This turns out to be the case with the character Jessamine as well. In spite of her outward beauty, she turns poisonous to all in her orbit. The problem for me, however, is that the author has Jessamine become immoral because of the influence of the evil Oleander, Prince of Poisons, whose power has been released by her father’s poison garden. It is Oleander who drives both Jessamine and Weed to commit the evil acts they do. I just don’t know how I feel about the whole “the devil made me do it” take on their behavior. Sure, Oleander could be seen as a metaphor, except that he is not – he is depicted as an actual character. Furthermore, he is pretty much omnipotent since he can get in their heads, so it’s not as if the characters are able to exercise good judgment about the choices they make. In fact, they are almost “excused” because of Oleander's influence, and that means being excused over some pretty egregious acts, including murder, adultery, drug addiction, betrayal, and thievery. Moreover, Jessamine has additional reasons to think she might have been “destined” to be evil, and so there is the additional issue of fate versus self-determination.Unless you are the sort that does not like fantastical elements to your books, this series is quite interesting, and raises numerous points to think about and discuss, among them: what defines love, what is necessary to sustain it, and what poisons it.Evaluation: It’s not impossible to start the series off with this second book, but you will miss out on some nuances, and maybe even more importantly, you will miss out on the halcyon times when at least some of the characters were suffused with goodness.

[bookswithbite · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I really enjoyed the change in the characters. It was not the turn most characters take, but I loved that the author surpirsed me with something real.The plot line picks up right where it left off. Both characters are now on the run, and the king is now running the show. I loved how the plot kept the reader going. It was intense and full of so much new information that I was just taking it all in.What I really liked it how dark the book got. So many dark emotions and thoughts. As the reader, you filled with angry and rage. Learning the secrets that was held back from the characters for years, made it easy for the reader to see. Ms. Wood did a great job in taking every detailed emotions fueling it in her writing.The best part of this story is the king. I was glad to see things from his point of view. It was a very interesting point of view, I might add. Seeing him play two different sides really perked up my interest. The ending was what I expected and not so. What the king did at the end, left me gasping.Nightshade, darkly written plagued me to finish it to the end. So many new turns, dark feelings, and the taste of poison lied in my mouth. If you want to enjoy a whole new spin on plants read this book.

[tattoogirlreads · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I was so lucky to get this from the Poison Diaries team. I am now a steadfast Poison Diaries fan and not so patiently waiting for the third installment. This book is darker and a little racier then the first. Weed is awesome but my tastes sometimes run a little darker so I have the biggest book crush on Oleander the poison king! And Jessamine, our little heroine isn't so pure now, is she? I think that was a big move on Maryrose Wood to take her female lead to such a dark place.How many times can I mention dark in this review? I don't know it's just so necessary. I think Wood needs to take a stab at horror because while it wasn't scary, the ending had some definitely creep out value to it. Such an amazing ending!

[bookwyrmm_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The YA market is currently oversaturated with dark fantasies. In order to stand out, an author has to have a very unique concept. That is exactly what Maryrose Wood, with the help of The Duchess of Northumberland, has with The Poison Diaries trilogy. The first book in the series was a gothic tale of love, plants, and a startling revelations. Nightshade, the middle book of the trilogy, takes an even darker turn, adding murder and political intrigue to the mix.After recovering from her illness, Jessamine Luxton wakes to find her betrothed, Weed, has fled. Depressed, she goes about her day working as a healer and trying to avoid the voice of Oleander, the Prince of Poisons, in her head. However, it is with his help that she discovers the cause of her illness and her mother’s death. Enraged, Jessamine sets out to poison her father, and ends up killing another man in the process. Now she must disguise herself and flee Northumberland with only Oleander to guide her. Shortly after she leaves, Weed comes back for her only to surmise what she had done. With the plants in England too scared of the prince to tell Weed where Jessamine is, he travels to Italy, to the Orto botanico, the oldest garden. There he falls under the tutaledge of Signora Baglioni, the gardener, a wise and trust-worthy woman interested in Weed’s gift of talking to the plants. But while Weed is bettering himself, Jessamine is falling further under Oleander’s power, possibly past the point of no return.While The Poison Diaries was dark mostly in an atmospheric sense, Nightshade was dark all around. Jessamine’s life starts off dim and gets darker and darker as she progresses through the blonde healer Jessamine, the auburn embroidery and cosmetics merchant, to the raven-haired poison dealer. Weed’s life, on the other hand, seems to lighten a little once he reaches the Orto botanica and is able to learn more about how to use his gift for good. However, through it all, he still carries the burden of his murderous transgression along with the worry of loosing Jessamine to Oleander. These emotions make for tense, fast-paced reading.Nightshade was a good I simply could not put down. Maryrose Wood shows great prowess as a storyteller in all aspects of writing. I simply cannot wait to see how The Poison Diaries trilogy ends.

[laurat81 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

In the second book of The Poison Diaries, Nightshade, Jessamine is under the Prince of Poisons influence, and will do anything he says if it will lead her to beloved, Weed...even murder.I liked the first book well enough to see what was in store for the two lovers, but for me, Nightshade was a disappointment. Jessamine becomes so flawed that she is weak and unlikeable, while, thankfully, Weed's character improves. This sequel, though sensuous, is all doom and gloom.

[summerskris_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Nightshade is better--darker--than the first book. Jessamine and Weed's lives have been complicated by many factors, and now they are separated. Desperate to be reunited with Weed and tired of living with her treacherous father, Jessamine allows Prince Oleander to slowly poison her mind with his tantalizing words. Angry with himself, Weed seeks solace in the forest until it brings word that something has changed with Jessamine. There is definitely a lot more action in this story than in book one. Jessamine travels the country on Oleander's orders, fueled by the promise that Oleander will lead her to Weed if she listens to him. Broken, she places her hopes in the belief that everything will be all right once she is in Weed's arms again. It is heartbreaking to watch her lose herself even as she believes she is heading towards salvation. Weed is now the one that I find strongest. Though he still has some doubt in himself, Weed has grown into a self-assured young man. While Jessamine falls deeper into the darkness, he is there searching for a way to save her from Oleander, and he is the one making someone of himself and finding his own identity. I love how the book is two from the alternating perspectives of Jessamine and Weed. As Jessamine's narrative grew darker and more disturbing, Weed's voice was always there to balance it with his brightness. In fact, the dual narrative served to heighten the contrast between the two, and it tore me to pieces that the two are so far apart. I have no idea what will happen to them in the future and can't wait to see how it all ends!