I am Meredith Gentry, P.I. and Princess Merry, heir to the throne of Fairie.
Now there are those among me who whisper I am more.
They fear me even as they protect me. And who can blame them?
I’ve awakened the dazzling magic that’s slumbered in them for
thousands of years. But... read more
My aunt, the Queen of Air and Darkness, is no longer distracted by her usual sadistic hobbies. Her obsession has turned unwaveringly to me. The mission to get me pregnant and beat my cousin Prince Cel to the crown is taking longer than expected. Even though I spend each night with the Queen’s... read more (warning: may contain spoilers)
My aunt, the Queen of Air and Darkness, is no longer distracted by her usual sadistic hobbies. Her obsession has turned unwaveringly to me. The mission to get me pregnant and beat my cousin Prince Cel to the crown is taking longer than expected. Even though I spend each night with the Queen’s Ravens, my immortal guards, no child has come of our decadent pleasures. But something else is happening. My magic courses through me uncontrollably. And as I lock my half-mortal body with their full-Sidhe blooded ones, the power surges like never before. It all began with the chalice. I dreamed of it, and it appeared, cool and hard, beside me when I awoke. My guards know the ancient relic well—its disappearance ages ago stripped them of their vital powers. But it is here with us now. My touch resonates with its force, and they’re consumed with it, their Sidhe essences lit up by it. But even as they cherish me for this unexpected gift, there are those who loathe me for it. Me, a mongrel, only half fey and part mortal. The Unseelie court has suffered for so long, and there are some who would not have it weakened further by an impure queen. My enemies grow in number every day. But they do not know what I am capable of. Nor, for that matter, do I….
“I will try. I still do not agree that I pout, but I will try not to do it.”Frost
“Prepare for what your enemy can do, not what they will do.”Doyle
To survive in most arenas of power you must first understand that everyone lies, everyone cheats, and no one is your friend. The paradox is that not everyone lies, and not everyone cheats, and some people are your friends. The problem lies in the fact that one smiling face and handshake looks much like another, and when you’re surrounded by consummate liars, how to tell the truth from the lie, friend from foe? Better to treat everyone professionally, pleasantly, smile, nod, be friendly, but never be friends. Because there is no way to tell who is on your side, not really.Highlighted by 32 Kindle customers
It was like being home, the way home is supposed to be but never really is. Peaceful, content, exactly what you need, and everything you ever wanted. It was a moment of perfect peace. Perfect happiness, as if this feeling could go on forever.Highlighted by 17 Kindle customers
Siun sigh-ON Sluagh SLEW-ah Taranis TAR-a-nis Uar ooh-ARE Unseelie UN-see-lee Usna OOSH-na Uther OOH-thur Yannick YAN-nick Yule YOULHighlighted by 9 Kindle customers
“It’s the truth, Doyle, they’re still killing each other over who crosses themselves when they bend a knee to the Christian God. You don’t see the Scots, or the Welsh, slaughtering each other over a matter not of which god they pray to, but of how they pray to the very same God. I mean, that’s a crazy reason to kill each other.”Highlighted by 8 Kindle customers
The Scots were treated badly, but the Irish have always been the special whipping boys of the English.”Highlighted by 8 Kindle customers
“Dian Cecht was one of the original Tuatha De Danaan, the healing god,Highlighted by 7 Kindle customers
“I know that there was more than one cauldron. I know that there were three main ones. I know that they all changed form, and became cups. My father blamed it on all the King Arthur stories about the Holy Grail. If enough people believe something, then it can affect everything. Flesh affects spirit.”Highlighted by 6 Kindle customers
“She has returned from the Summerlands with the kiss of birds inside her.”Highlighted by 6 Kindle customers
Doyle used the sword sheath in his hand to salute, and Frost drew his long sword. They both touched their foreheads, but it was Doyle who said it. “Hail, Cromm Cruach, who slew Tigernmas, Lord of Death, for his pride and his crimes against the people.” Rhys raised his bloody sword, saluting them in turn. “It’s good to be back.” His solemn bloodstained face broke into his usual grin. “Blood makes the grass grow, rah, rah, rah.”Highlighted by 5 Kindle customers
I’d learned long ago that with life, there is hope. With death, there is none.Highlighted by 4 Kindle customers
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