By Laurell K. Hamilton
I'm Princess Meredith, inheritor to a throne–if i will be able to remain alive lengthy sufficient to say it. My cousin, Prince Cel, is set to work out that I don’t. so long as we either reside, we're in a race for the crown: Whichever one in every of us reproduces first will get the throne. So now the boys of my royal protect– scary warriors expert with blade, spell, and gun–have turn into my fanatics, auditioning with excitement for the function of destiny king and father of my baby. and so they needs to nonetheless guard me from assassination attempts–for not like many of the fey, i'm half human, and extremely mortal. All this royal back-stabbing makes it very tricky for me to pursue my residing as a personal investigator in l. a., specifically because the media made certain the total global is familiar with the Faerie princess is alive and good in sunny California.Now, within the urban of Angels, individuals are demise in mysterious, scary methods. What the human police don’t observe is that the killer is looking the fey to boot. Havoc lies at the horizon: the very lifestyles of where often called Faerie is at grave chance. So now, whereas I benefit from the maximum pleasures of my existence with my guardians, i need to fend off an historical evil that can break the very cloth of fact. And that’s simply my day task. . . .From the darkling throng to the glittering courtroom, it is a international of magic and delights, greed and ugly objectives. Laurell okay. Hamilton has created a mythos of utmost energy and natural good looks that could be a satisfaction to behold.
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Extra info for A Caress of Twilight (Meredith Gentry, Book 2)
I huddled on the floor and let Kitto rock me, and I didn\'t fight when Doyle took the knife, very gently, from my hand. ï¿½ Chapter 4 I ended up huddled in one of my own client chairs with a mug of hot mint tea and my boss, Jeremy Grey. I don\'t know what had alerted him to the trouble, but he\'d come through the door like a small, neat storm. He\'d ordered everyone out, and Doyle, of course, had argued that Jeremy couldn\'t guarantee my safety. \" The silence in the room had been profound, and Doyle had gone without another word.
He was just over six feet, most of it long, long legs; his slender waist and long, graceful arms balanced all that length. Most of Nicca was shades of brown. His skin was the color of pale milk chocolate, and the hair that fell in a straight fall to his knees was a rich, dark true brown. Not brunette, but the color of fresh turned leaves that had lain a long, long time on the forest floor until when stirred they were a rich, moist brown, something you could plunge your hands into and come away wet and smelling of new life.
It would have been more natural to touch, and the very fact that he worked so hard not to touch me made it the more awkward. It bothered me, but I\'d stopped arguing with Doyle about his distance. \" At first it had seemed noble; now it was just irritating. The light was stronger here by the window, and I could see some of that delicate curve of his high cheekbones, the too-sharp chin, the curved points to his ears, and the silver gleam of earrings that traced the cartilage all the way to the small hoops in the very pointed tops.
A Caress of Twilight (Meredith Gentry, Book 2) by Laurell K. Hamilton