By Laurell K. Hamilton
I'm Princess Meredith, inheritor to a throne–if i will remain alive lengthy adequate to say it. My cousin, Prince Cel, is decided to determine that I don’t. so long as we either dwell, we're in a race for the crown: Whichever one in all us reproduces first will get the throne. So now the boys of my royal defend– scary warriors expert with blade, spell, and gun–have develop into my fans, auditioning with excitement for the function of destiny king and father of my baby. and so they needs to nonetheless defend me from assassination attempts–for not like lots of the fey, i'm half human, and intensely mortal. All this royal back-stabbing makes it very tricky for me to pursue my dwelling as a personal investigator in la, specifically because the media made definite the complete global understands the Faerie princess is alive and good in sunny California.Now, within the urban of Angels, everyone is death in mysterious, scary methods. What the human police don’t notice is that the killer is searching the fey to boot. Havoc lies at the horizon: the very life of where referred to as Faerie is at grave probability. So now, whereas I benefit from the maximum pleasures of my lifestyles with my guardians, i have to fend off an historic evil that may smash the very cloth of truth. And that’s simply my day task. . . .From the darkling throng to the glittering courtroom, this can be a international of magic and delights, greed and ugly pursuits. Laurell ok. Hamilton has created a mythos of utmost strength and natural attractiveness that could be a satisfaction to behold.
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Extra info for A Caress of Twilight (Meredith Gentry, Book 2)
Doyle frowned at him. \" \"If you want her, Doyle, then just say so. Tomorrow night can be your turn. I think we\'d all step aside for an evening if you\'d break your . . \" The moonlight softened Rhys\'s scars like a white gauzy patch where his right eye should have been. \"Put up your guns,\" I said. They looked at Doyle for confirmation. I shouted at them. \"Put up the guns. I am the princess here, heir to the throne. \" They still looked at Doyle. He gave the smallest of nods. \"Get out,\" I said.
Last night Doyle showed me no respect. If I\'ve learned anything from my aunt and my father, it\'s that a leader who is not respected by her people is just a figurehead. I will not be something you fuck and cuddle. \" My voice had dropped down even lower, so that the last words were said in a hoarse whisper. And I knew in that moment that I meant it, that if spilling Rhys\'s blood would gain me the power I needed, I\'d kill him. I\'d known Rhys my entire life. He was my lover, and on some level, my friend.
Last night he\'d had a gun in his hands and he hadn\'t been frightening. Now, just sitting on the edge of my desk, he was frightening. He did nothing; even his hands were loose in his lap, just that terrible tension in his back, the set of his shoulders, the way he held himself as if he were a blink away from some terrible physical action --something that would rip the room apart and paint the sparkling glass with blood and thicker things. Rhys had done nothing, nothing, yet violence rode the air like a kiss just above the skin, something to make you shiver with anticipation, even though nothing had happened.
A Caress of Twilight (Meredith Gentry, Book 2) by Laurell K. Hamilton