Happy Hump Day! I hope you are in the mood for a little swoony/smexy delight, as my pick for this week is from none other than paranormal, fantasy phenom Nalini Singh and her Guild Hunter series. In two weeks, the much anticipated Archangel’s Prophecy drops and I foresee that no one is ready and everyone will be stunned once they read the latest developments in the Archangel of New York and his beloved Hunter’s lives. After I read the last sentence, all I could think was “whaaat does this even MEAN!?!?!” Cue crushing anxiety. Also, cue immense ire, because guys, its-a-freaking-cliffie.
A cliffie! Wha? Nalini!?? Who has so skillfully and deftly mastered the art of providing full and complete stories, while also foreshadowing like an effing champ? How (WHY!?!) do you go 11 books into a series and then suddenly decide to get cute and make it a cliffhanger. I hate cliffhangers. And unless the next novel is a part of some rapid fire release serial, I go out of my way not to read cliffhangers- avoid them at all costs- so if you don’t believe anything I ever go on about- know these three things: that the last quarter of the book is complex and requires all of the attention to follow, it’s a freaking cliffie- and Raphael loves Elena DEEP.
Also, I can’t not go there/here, but….Are you there, Nalini? It’s me, Sheena.
Where are the toe-curling, spine-shivering sexy times? Guild Hunter is seeing a significant level of steam, fizzle into off page lovin’- and I kind of miss it. One of the key things I loved abut the series was how freakishly fantastic the world building and storytelling was in concert with the sexy and smoldering tone each story radiated. I was in a shambles when Archangel’s Viper was noticeably tamer than I anticipated. I hope she pulls a JT and brings sexy back with the next installment.
Cliffhanger ranting and “where’s the beef“chiding aside- Archangel’s Prophecy provides just the sweet and saucy snippets that pull at the heartstrings- and libido- a little :)
The Sweet.
Raphael almost wished Lijuan would rise again. She, even in her deadly and dreadful “evolution,” was a foe he understood and could battle. Having his hands tied while Elena hurt . . .
“Enough of this.” His consort placed her palms against his glowing wings. “You don’t have to save me, Archangel. We are us. That’s how we fight this. Together.” One hand against his heart. “You’re a little bit mortal and I’m a tiny bit immortal. We did that to each other. We created the wildfire. We beat Lijuan. We’ll beat this together. The one thing we won’t do is surrender who we are to this menace.”
Yes, she was magnificent, his warrior consort. She was also right. All their greatest successes had come when they acted as one. He would do well to remember that.
“As you say.”
“I do so say.” She poked a finger to his chest. “Also, we’re both covered in angel dust.”
Bending his head, he licked the tip of one breast. She shivered. The result was inevitable.
The Heat.
He spoke into her mind. Yours, he said, always yours. They fell on the bed together, wings and limbs entangled. Her eyes reflected back the glow pulsing off him, luminous in their inhuman beauty, but the ring of silver that was a promise of her growing immortality, it hadn’t returned. Her fingers in his hair, her mouth on his throat, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Love me, Archangel.”
Raphael surrendered to his consort and to this coupling as rawly physical as it was imbued with a painful love he hadn’t understood until he met Elena. Hope, fear, need, the hunger to cherish, the twist of the heart when she laughed. His eternity was encapsulated in Elena’s not-yet-fully-immortal body. She was so easy to break, his consort, so easy to damage. And she kissed him like the warrior that she was. Raphael stroked her with rough hands, molding and shaping her breasts until her spine arched, a needy sound emanating from her throat. He kissed his way down her throat, lower, lower, and he made her scream his name while her fingers clenched in his hair. She was quivering in the aftermath, her skin shiny with a light layer of perspiration and her breathing ragged, when he shifted position to brace himself over her. She stroked his chest with lazy fingertips that moved down to grasp his rigid cock. Muscles stone, he gritted out,
“I have no patience today, Elena.”
Slowly spreading her thighs, she guided him to the dark heat of her.
“Me, either, Archangel.”
Archangel’s Prophecy by Nalini Singh is available everywhere October 30th!
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