Summary:
You will hate Him for all that he's taken, but you will love Him. God help you, you will love Him.
Mary Devlin accepted her fate years ago, to serve Slanaitheoir, the mountain spirit who saved her ancestors from the Irish Famine. The hauntingly beautiful woman submitted to His every caress, His every humiliation, but He’s gone too far by threatening her family.
Mary’s daughter-in-law is now an unwitting pawn in the fickle spirit’s game. Mary must challenge her fate and that of all future Devlin women, but Slanaitheoir is the most powerful being in the land. And when part of her still yearns for His touch and love, how can she fight him and win?
Length: 122 pages (E-book)
Source: Review Copy
Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy Romance (Horror)
Heat Level: Steamy
Publication Date: June 18th 2012 by Lyrical Press
This book was nothing like I expected. The summary for the book while it is intriguing tells very little about the book so I thought that this would be the typical paranormal/fantasy romance read. A bit of fluff and some magic or something of the like here and there. Boy, was I ever wrong.
As soon as I started the book last night I was hooked. I love how the book started off in the middle of the story and then switched to the beginning. I'm not sure why but I really enjoy it when authors employ that technique in their writing and the author for this book did it in a really great way.
I loved how the book was so dark, mysterious and at times it read much like a thriller novel. The fact that the book itself has a lot of ties to Ireland as much of it takes place. What I liked most about it is that there was mention of the area where I visited in the story.
The story was well written and kept me on my toes. Just when I thought that I had figured out where the story line was headed the author decided to take me completely by surprise and did something with the story that I never would have thought to do.
I thought the characters were great. My favourite character would have to be Caroline because she had so many bad things happen to her and those around her kept blaming her for things that were so far out of the realm of her control I couldn't believe that they were so harsh to her. I really felt with her and it was though I was feeling all the things she felt which is pretty rare in such a short novel for the characters to be so developed. I thought this one was a real gem and I can't wait to read books two and three and read more about the Devlin women and the Slanaitheoir.
I highly recommend this book to those who want a short but dark read that fully engages the reader in the story. Whether you're fans of the genre or not I think the book is one that is well worth the read and I think I'll be recommending this one left, right and center for a long while.
*I received a free copy in
exchange for my free and honest review. I was not compensated in any way and all
thoughts and opinions expressed therein are my own.
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Really
Liked it!
★ ★ ★ ★
R-RATED
EXTENDED EXCERPT:
Marcie, one of the
Wanna-Be Manhattan Moms who had also experienced success, lived a few blocks
away on East 85th Street. A group of successful Wanna-Be Manhattan Moms had
formed a little Upper East Side sorority. We would go to Mommy-and-Me classes,
play dates and at times babysat for each other. I’m not sure exactly what
happened to the not-so-successful Wanna-Be Manhattan Moms. None of us mentioned
them.
Marcie agreed to
babysit Aidan while I went to my acupuncture appointment at the Yorktown Natural
Fertility Clinic. Bobby refused to go back to the New York Infertility
Institute. In fact, it was all I could do to convince him not to use condoms.
“I’ve got my beautiful wife and my beautiful son,” he said in a sing-song voice
whenever I raised the topic of another child. “That’s all I want. That’s all I
need.”
Why wasn’t that all I
needed?
The first few months
of Aidan’s life, I was completely satisfied. I’d never been so happy or imagined
I could be so happy.
But then, the old
familiar niggling started. I’d take Aidan in his stroller through Central Park
and see a woman pushing twins in a stroller. Or a mother holding the hands of a
small boy and a girl. And I would get that sour taste in my mouth, the same one
I had tasted for years whenever I saw a pregnant woman.
And so it began.
I couldn’t very well
steal a vial of Bobby’s sperm and take it with me back to Dr. Feinberg’s office.
But we had, somehow, managed to conceive Aidan on our own. Perhaps with some
Chinese herbs and acupuncture we could conceive again. Marcie swore by
acupuncture, and after she had been thrown out of two Manhattan IVF clinics she
tried traditional Chinese medicine and conceived her own miracle baby. Why
couldn’t I too, conceive a little miracle baby with the help of magic teas and
shiny needles?
Just one more, I
thought to myself as I opened the heavy glass doors of the Yorktown Natural
Fertility Clinic. “Just one more miracle. And then. Then I’ll be happy and
content.”
I promise, I silently
swore to God, the universe or whoever else might be listening to my thoughts.
***
A row of needles
lined my bare stomach. They were in my ears, on my wrists and even between my
toes. The acupuncturist, a hippy-looking woman in her mid-fifties with frizzy
red hair, twisted the needles between my toes once more before she lowered the
lights and left the room.
The first five
minutes were always the hardest. Inevitably at least one of the needles would
burn. Dr. Hippy-Dippy said that meant it was working. It was all I could do not
to rip the offending thing out.
I breathed in and out
slowly, and tried to focus on my breathing, on anything rather than the needles.
As I lay in the darkened room, with only the sound of a small fan to block out
the traffic from Second Avenue, my shoulders, which had felt like they were
jacked up below my ears, relaxed. I continued my purposeful breathing and closed
my eyes.
Someone took my hand.
I opened my eyes and was no longer on the table, but clothed in a long red robe
and standing in a forest. And the most beautiful man held my hand.
“My love,” He said,
His voice harsh and guttural. And somehow familiar.
A lone ray of
sunlight made its way through the heavy woods and shone on His black hair. His
pale skin glowed and His jade eyes glittered in the low light. They drew me in.
Without another word
He led me to a roaring fire outside of a cave. The fire was hot, and a small
bead of sweat formed on my upper lip. The man unbuttoned the red robe and took
it from my shoulders. Underneath I wore only a thin sheath of white silk that
hid nothing from His probing gaze.
I should have been
embarrassed, but the hungry look in His hypnotic eyes stirred a fire within me.
With a finger, he gently followed the lines of my plump, full breast.
“So ripe,” He
whispered in a harsh rasp. “So fertile.”
That word hit me like
a hard slap. I turned away. “No,” I choked out, “I’m not.”
He pulled me to Him,
His lips mere inches from my own. His musky breath filled my nose. “You could be.”
His lips covered mine. At first soft, like the finest silk, but then more
forceful, moreurgent. My passion soon met His and I couldn’t help but run my
fingers through His magical hair as he devoured my lips.
He tore the sheath in
two and it fell away from me, leaving me naked. His green gaze bore through me,
and it was almost as if I could feel the very cells of my body change. My
breasts felt heavier and skin softer, my lips fuller. It was as if He
transferred His own beauty to me. I ran my hands across my face first, and then
my breasts, my nipples, taut and tender. Instead of being embarrassed, I reveled
in my newfound beauty.
My skin was hot but
His hands were hotter and they almost burned my flesh as they explored every
inch of me. Every touch brought both pleasure and pain.
I pulled at His
golden shirt, eager to see all of Him and He seemed surprised by my daring, my
need for Him. He smiled, like a wolf about to catch His prey, and ripped the
silk from His body as well.
This nameless man
pushed me onto the soft grass beside the fire. Starting at my toes, His scalding
tongue sucked and bit me. As He traveled up my calf and along my thighs, I
trembled, not with fear, but with a hunger I’d never felt before. A ravenous,
ancient hunger.
He spread my legs and
His rough, scalding tongue explored me, possessed me. Before I could climax, He
stopped.
“Don’t,” I begged.
“Don’t stop.” His animal gaze bored into me. “Are you mine?” I threw my head
back and arched my back, inviting Him to enter me. “Yes, yes. Go on!”
"Are you mine? Will
you give me what I want?”
My skin was on fire,
dying for His touch. “Anything,” I moaned.
A terrible smile
contorted His beautiful face. “Don’t you want to know what I want?”
I couldn’t take it
anymore. I rubbed myself against Him. “Anything. You can have anything.”
“I want you to have
my child. I want to share the blood with you.”
I don’t know where I
got the strength, but I pushed Him off me. He lay on his back, more surprised
than hurt. His eyes darkened, but before He could get up I pounced on him,
lowering my swollen sex onto Him, allowing Him to fill me. I ground into Him and
felt Him grow even larger within me. I rocked back and forth, overcome with
ripples of orgasms as I fucked Him, as hard as I could. Like a woman possessed.
Like an animal.
Author Bio:
Bernadette
Walsh has been writing contemporary and paranormal romance for four years. She
has published three novels to date (The House on Prospect (Echelon Press) and
Gold Coast Wives (Lyrical Press)) and the first book of her paranormal trilogy,
Devil’s Mountain -- Book One of the Devlin Legacy. While Bernadette has hopped
around genres, all of her books to date have a common theme: strong women
handling what life throws at them the best way they can.
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