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Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 1 из 148Аннотация: The time has come for Meredith Gentry to put aside her detective work and fulfill her ultimate obligation to the world of Faerie — where her efforts to conceive an heir to the throne of the Unseelie Court are crucial to restoring magic, and life itself, to the Fey kingdom.
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Laurell K. Hamilton
Mistral's Kiss
(the 5th book in Merry Gentry series)
TO JONATHON
Worrying about the perfect words makes me miss the perfect moment. You remind me it’s not perfection I’m seeking but happiness.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Darla Cook and Sherry Ganey, who keep so much running smoothly. Mary Schuermann, best mother-in-law in the world. To my writing group, The Alternate Historians: Deborah Milletello, Mark Sumner, Rett MacPherson, Marella Sands, Tom Drennan, and Sharon Shinn. Our tenth anniversary as a group with its current members is coming in 2006. It’s eighteen years from the group’s inception; in 2008, we will celebrate twenty years. Can you believe it? Party, party, party. Okay, our kind of party. No drinking, certainly no drugs, just us sitting around talking, eating Debbie’s amazing desserts, just us doing what we’ve done for a decade, being friends and helping each other succeed.
CHAPTER 1
I DREAMT OF WARM FLESH AND COOKIES. THE SEX I UNDERSTOOD, but the cookies…Why cookies? Why not cake, or meat? But that’s what my subconscious chose as I dreamt. We were eating in the tiny kitchen of my Los Angeles apartment — an apartment I didn’t live in anymore, outside of dreams. The we were me, Princess Meredith — the only faerie royal ever born on American soil — and my royal guards, more than a dozen of them.
They moved around me with skin the color of darkest night, whitest snow, the pale of newborn leaves, the brown of leaves that have gone down to die on the forest floor, a rainbow of men moving nude around the kitchen.
The real apartment kitchen would have barely held three of us, but in the dream everyone walked through that narrow space between sink and stove and cabinets as if there were all the room in the world.
We were having cookies because we’d just had sex and it was hungry work, or something like that. The men moved around me graceful and perfectly nude. Several of the men were ones I’d never seen nude. They moved with skin the color of summer sunshine, the transparent white of crystals, colors I had no name for, for the colors did not exist outside of faerie. It should have been a good dream, but it wasn’t.
---------------------------------------------
Laurell K. Hamilton
Mistral's Kiss
(the 5th book in Merry Gentry series)
TO JONATHON
Worrying about the perfect words makes me miss the perfect moment. You remind me it’s not perfection I’m seeking but happiness.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Darla Cook and Sherry Ganey, who keep so much running smoothly. Mary Schuermann, best mother-in-law in the world. To my writing group, The Alternate Historians: Deborah Milletello, Mark Sumner, Rett MacPherson, Marella Sands, Tom Drennan, and Sharon Shinn. Our tenth anniversary as a group with its current members is coming in 2006. It’s eighteen years from the group’s inception; in 2008, we will celebrate twenty years. Can you believe it? Party, party, party. Okay, our kind of party. No drinking, certainly no drugs, just us sitting around talking, eating Debbie’s amazing desserts, just us doing what we’ve done for a decade, being friends and helping each other succeed.
CHAPTER 1
I DREAMT OF WARM FLESH AND COOKIES. THE SEX I UNDERSTOOD, but the cookies…Why cookies? Why not cake, or meat? But that’s what my subconscious chose as I dreamt. We were eating in the tiny kitchen of my Los Angeles apartment — an apartment I didn’t live in anymore, outside of dreams. The we were me, Princess Meredith — the only faerie royal ever born on American soil — and my royal guards, more than a dozen of them.
They moved around me with skin the color of darkest night, whitest snow, the pale of newborn leaves, the brown of leaves that have gone down to die on the forest floor, a rainbow of men moving nude around the kitchen.
The real apartment kitchen would have barely held three of us, but in the dream everyone walked through that narrow space between sink and stove and cabinets as if there were all the room in the world.
We were having cookies because we’d just had sex and it was hungry work, or something like that. The men moved around me graceful and perfectly nude. Several of the men were ones I’d never seen nude. They moved with skin the color of summer sunshine, the transparent white of crystals, colors I had no name for, for the colors did not exist outside of faerie. It should have been a good dream, but it wasn’t.