This Thursday, I bring before you some cool lines from two entirely different books.
Dyrk Ashton had suggested the first in the series.
Not only it was a crazy book, I think I fell a little in love with this lady. A phenomenal writer, Sara Dobie Bauer is also a sensational model for her works and more. Go check her website (no creepy peeping, please).
Can’t thank Dyrk enough for the recommendation.
I bought the freshly out second book from the series yesterday.
Imogene helped her newbie vampire friend Celia hook up with an adorable human, but now Celia has dropped an atomic bomb of surprise: she has a possibly blood-sucking baby on the way. Imogene is not pleased, especially when a mysterious, ancient, and annoyingly gorgeous vampire historian shows up to monitor Celia’s unprecedented pregnancy.
Lord Nicholas Christopher Cuthbert III is everything Imogene hates: posh, mannerly, and totally uninterested in her. Plus, she thinks he’s hiding something. So what if he smells like a fresh garden and looks like a rich boarding school kid just begging to be debauched? Imogene has self-control. Or something.
As Celia’s pregnancy progresses at a freakishly fast pace, Imogene and Nicholas play an ever-escalating game of will they or won’t they, until his sexy maker shows up on Admiral Key, forcing Nicholas to reveal his true intentions toward Celia’s soon-to-arrive infant.
This piece is from the very beginning. Don’t forget to laugh!
Imogene hid behind her sunglasses and a rum punch as Celia extolled the virtues of not biting one of Ian’s brothers at their wedding.
“I really don’t want any open wounds at my nuptials,” she said over the clatter of beer bottles and disorderly conduct at their favorite Florida dive bar, The Drift Inn.
“What if I have to punch someone in the nose?” Imogene asked.
“Except maybe my brother Randall. Nobody likes Randall, but I don’t even know if he’s coming,” Ian said from his bar stool. He sat there, in shorts and a t-shirt, reading Modern Bride. He flipped a page and said, “Ooo, pretty!”
“Pretty.” Imogene licked her lips.
“Imogene.” Celia elbowed Imogene in the side.
For fans of Joe Abercrombie, Scott Lynch, and Mark Lawrence comes a brutal grimdark fantasy debut of dark gods and violent warriors.
The Mireces worship the bloodthirsty Red Gods. Exiled from Rilpor a thousand years ago, and left to suffer a harsh life in the cold mountains, a new Mireces king now plots an invasion of Rilpor’s thriving cities and fertile earth.
Dom Templeson is a Watcher, a civilian warrior guarding Rilpor’s border. He is also the most powerful seer in generations, plagued with visions and prophecies. His people are devoted followers of the god of light and life, but Dom harbors deep secrets, which threaten to be exposed when Rillirin, an escaped Mireces slave, stumbles broken and bleeding into his village.
Meanwhile, more and more of Rilpor’s most powerful figures are turning to the dark rituals and bloody sacrifices of the Red Gods, including the prince, who plots to wrest the throne from his dying father in the heart of the kingdom. Can Rillirin, with her inside knowledge of the Red Gods and her shocking ties to the Mireces King, help Rilpor win the coming war?
This book has me dumbstruck and bewitched in its web. Any single paragraph won’t be enough to show you how deep and cutting Anna Smith’s writing is. The power of her words and expressions…
Here’s a snippet, one of the best scenes I have read in this book so far. I could literally feel the cold and burn as I read on.
A faint howl on the wind made up her mind fo her and she edged on to the step rock, her boots scrabbling for purchase, the wind tearing at the remains of her skirts and throwing her off balance. She skidded, fell hard no her right hip and was sliding down the rock before she had a chance to suck in a breath to scream.
She hit the cat’s ledge, winded, and sailed on past, faster, stone burning the backs of her legs and arse until there was no more mountain and then she did scream, falling through space for long endless seconds, eyes screwed shut, arms flailing uselessly through the air.
She hit water so cold it felt like knives stabbing into her. She’d thought herself cold before, but that was cold that burnt. Everything constricted and she hit the bottom. Fighting her way back up against the drag of her skirts, her head broke the surface and she warbled in a breath, lungs burning as well as her skin.
What are you reading now? How is it going? Wish to share your link in the comments?