By Marjorie M. Liu
“Readers of early Laurell ok. Hamilton, Charlaine Harris, and the easiest thrillers available in the market may still test Liu now.”
“Anyone who loves my paintings may still love [Lui’s].”
Award-winning, New York Times bestselling writer Marjorie M. Liu’s exceptional Dirk and Steele novels are the optimum of paranormal romance fiction. Stepping in brief clear of her distinctive detective company of shapeshifters, psychics, and remarkable beings, Lui enters the damaging shadows of red urban with A style of Crimson. Set in a gloomy and twisted model of Los Angeles—a “City of Angels” from which the angels have lengthy considering that fled—A flavor of Crimson has a gorgeous creature of the evening teaming up with an enemy, a slayer, to get to the basis of an coming near near disaster that threatens to shatter a tentative peace among people, vampires and werewolves. a wide ranging mix of sensuous romance with better city delusion within the bestselling vein of Jeaniene Frost and Nalini Singh, A style of Crimson is a delightful banquet for each paranormal fan. probably Booklist positioned it most sensible: “If you will have but so as to add Liu for your must-read checklist, you’re doing your self a disservice.”
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Keeli looked at her hands, still holding down her shivering captive. She was fully human again. Pink skin, clear nails. She let go of her captive and slid off his back. He continued to lie there, his eyes squeezed shut. She almost touched him—to comfort, to reassure—and then the memory resurfaced. “He deserved it,” she said. ” “Maybe,” said the vampire. “But you would have given up your own life to do it. ” Keeli looked at the vampire—really looked, hard—and saw nothing but calm acceptance. No anger.
But that was unlikely, after all the heat from last time. The mech program was in development, and under close scrutiny right now. And no human could kill a vampire with his bare hands. So, wolf. Eye for an eye? Possibly. A dead werewolf had turned up only days previous with fang marks in his throat, obviously a vampire kill. Keeli didn’t know the wolf personally, but he’d had a bad reputation. D. and B-Ops alike. Keeli knew for a fact that the wolf had been close to exile—nothing less was suitable punishment for a wolf who betrayed his clan.
Yeah, well, I’m sick of caring what people think of me. But knowing what she did, hearing those cops talk about how close the wolves were to real trouble, made it impossible not to get involved. Okay, so do it. Now, before you give yourself time to change your mind. Which might be at any moment, when her brain finally spun down from its current state of self-righteous commitment and thunked against the hard wall of reality. She stood up, intent on getting Jenkins’s attention, looked through the bars at the blond officer, who was sitting once again with his shoulders hunched, and then past him, at the faraway door— The phantom taste of blood filled her mouth, a shimmering memory on her tongue.
A Taste of Crimson by Marjorie M. Liu