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232 pages, Kindle Edition
First published April 29, 2018
A prince who lost his birthright, who pushed everyone away, living in a cage of his own making. Alone.
Well, alone except for me. --Iris' thoughts on the new High Prince of Hell, Elias Vane Spero




This isn't what it looks like. I swear. You see, though I may be tied to this wooden beam with unbreakable chains, and yes, though I may be hanging over a boiling pot full of something that smells worse than an angel's anus, I am in complete control. Utter domination. You get the picture. So, don't worry. All children and sensitive souls may read on
When I open the door, the way doesn't lead to the valley, but instead into a lavish hotel. The Black Lotus.Iris is The First Hunter (which is apparently a big deal) that has to capture Elias, the Prince of Hell, an all-powerful being that has top notch abilities. He proves himself a hard catch, because Iris is at her 21/22nd time that she tried and failed to catch him. The genre describes this book as fantasy romance, so you may guess what will happen with those two. But that doesn’t matter because a bigger threat than awkwardly falling in love has arisen and that’s the White Rider. A powerful creature hell bent on putting his claws on Elias. But wait, somehow Iris has to run with Elias because [insert the excuse that makes the plot running]. So they become outcasts.
Now…
I know you’ve heard about this next part. Read about it, at least. The incident, as most like to call it. You’re wondering, were Iris and Elias both in on it? Did they work together? That is, after all, why you’re reading this, right? To find out. I can assure you, it’s much more complicated than that.
Elias finishes dressing the wound, but he doesn’t let go of my hand, clutching it tightly. “Don’t be sorry, Iris. You saved me, remember. Without your blood, I’d be dead.”Don’t expect this to be the place where you find the most brilliant characters in literature, fantasy more exactly, nor did this, is the place of diversity and complexity. It’s a quick funny read that has some poignant ideas protruding from its two hundred and some pages. Elias is not the greatest, Iris is not the sassiest, but they are Fine. More than that.
I want to say something kind in return. Instead I sneeze. All over him. Like my snot flies into his face. Like snotpocalypse has arrived. What is this? Am I allergic to the new Elias?
“Excuse me,” I say, pinching my nose to avoid another incident.
“This…” he groans, wiping the nasty off his face with a cloth. “I can never forgive.”

