"Book Four of the Kyndred is Chock Full of Taut Intense Plotting and Hot Romance"
Reviewed by Diana Troldahl
Posted October 10, 2011
Romance Paranormal
Charlotte Marena has kept her telepathic gift a secret for
her entire life. She works her double shifts as an EMT and
does her best to stay under the radar, saving the lives she
can, trying to forget those she cannot, until an accident on
the Golden gate bridge brings her into the sights of a
crazed shooter. Samuel Taske's gifts as one of the Kyndred are attacking his
body, leaving him a cripple and in horrendous pain as his
spine deteriorates, day by agonizing day. His prescience has
shown that a woman named Charlotte will die on the bridge
unless he can prevent it, and he determines to save her life
as his final act before seeking peace in death. Jonah Genaro is collecting the DNA of the Kyndred,
determined to create a transerum giving their gifts to those
who deserve them. He's not particular about the survival of
the Kyndred, once he has what he needs. The Kyndred and their enemy Genaro become caught in the web
of an ancient Aztec God who has become active once more,
forcing a confrontation between modern technology, genetic
gifts and the magic a god can command. NIGHTSHINE is the fourth in Lynn Viehl's Kyndred series and
continues the intricate plotting and high levels of suspense
found in all her novels. Veihl's ability to balance multiple
romances within a multi-pronged plot is a rare gift, wowing
her readers with strong characterization and undiluted
intensity. The dark and dangerous world she has created lies
just below our own making us shiver with the strong ties to
current scientific reality. This world could be ours with
just a few minor (and vampiric) changes. The Kyndred series
is an offshoot of Viehl's previous Darkyn novels.
SUMMARY
As a psychic, Samuel Taske can see the future, but he never
predicted that he'd fall for San Francisco paramedic
Charlotte Marena, the woman he's been charged with
protecting. GenHance-the biotech company willing to do
anything to acquire superhuman DNA-is after them. And when
Samuel discovers that his Takyn powers have abandoned him,
Charlie and her secret nighttime telepathic ability are
their only hope for survival...
ExcerptNo drug, treatment, or therapy had ever succeeded in
completely relieving the pain caused by Samuel Taske's
deteriorating spine. He had spent years learning how to
rest through meditation and napping for an hour or two,
usually in an upright position in one of his custom-built
ergonomic chairs. To wake from a deep, satisfying sleep and
find himself flat on his back in a real bed was not only a
novelty but something of a precious gift.
One he would begin paying for immediately, he thought as
he lay as still as possible. As soon as he moved he would
likely be in agony. At least Morehouse would arrive shortly
with his morning tea and paper, and after administering his
injection he would help him get up and into the
whirlpool. . . .
Two fingers pressed against a bone in his wrist while a
warm hand settled on his brow. None of them belonged to his
house manager.
"No fever, no rash, no arrhythmias," a woman
murmured. "So why don't you wake up, mío?"
"It usually requires a pot of tea and The Wall Street
Journal." He looked up at Charlotte Marena's face. Beyond
her he could see bright colors and beautiful
furnishings. "Hello again."
"Hey." Her smile lit up her tired face. "Welcome back.
How are you feeling?"
"Puzzled." Taske turned his head to the right and left
to take in as much as he could, and made another discovery
as he felt the smoothness of the linen pillowcase against
his cheek. "Someone shaved off my beard."
She nodded. "Wasn't me."
He didn't see any medical equipment around the
bed. "We're not at a hospital, are we?"
"I don't know where we are, Sam," Charlotte admitted. "I
was kind of hoping that you did."
"I'll have to disappoint you." Luxurious and unique as
it was, he didn't recognize the room. "How did we come to
be here?"
"The last thing I remember was passing out in the back
of my rig." She straightened. "Yesterday I woke up here
with you. That's all I know."
"Yesterday." He frowned. "I've been unconscious that
long?"
"At least a day." She made a helpless gesture. "Maybe
two or three, or even a week." She looked as if she wanted
to say more, and then subsided.
"But you woke before me." A vague memory of Charlotte's
urgent voice came back to him, and without thinking he
reached across his abdomen to touch the wound in his side.
"It's okay. It's already healed." She pulled down the
sheet covering him to expose the unmarked skin over his
ribs. "The stitches I put in popped out during the night.
There isn't even a scar. Maybe you can explain that to me?"
"I'll try." Taske had not enjoyed such a rapid recovery
from a serious wound in years, but that was not the only
revelation that stunned him. When he had moved, he had felt
nothing.
"Problem?"
He frowned as he carefully drew his arm back and then
moved his legs just enough to shift the lower half of his
spine. "I don't feel anything."
Charlotte turned and touched his thigh. "You can't feel
my hand?"
"No, I have feeling in my legs." Still not trusting his
body, he bent his arm to prop his weight on his elbow and
roll onto his side. His muscles felt stiff, but the searing
coil of nerves around his spine didn't offer even the
slightest twinge. "Charlotte." He stared at her. "I need
you to tell me precisely what happened to me."
"When I woke up yesterday I found you in shock from the
blood loss. You were left here bleeding from a reopened
wound." She ducked her head. "Your heart stopped, and I had
to perform CPR, but I got you back. I had to give you a
vein-to-vein blood transfusion. Fortunately we have the
same type. I'm also tested regularly for my job, so don't
worry about it. I know I'm clean."
"I remember your asking me about my blood type." She had
given him her own blood; no wonder she looked so drawn and
pale. "What did you do to my back?"
"Nothing." She put her hand on his arm. "You probably
wrenched it on the bridge. I'll see if I can find something
for the pain."
"Pain. That is the problem. I'm not in pain. Any pain."
He laughed a little. "Charlotte, somehow you've healed me."
"Jesus healed the lame, Sam. I just gave you some
blood." She looked uncertain. "You're sure you don't feel
any pain at all? Maybe you're just riding an adrenaline
high."
"After fifteen years of enduring it every day—lately
every hour of every day—I know pain," he assured her. "Not
feeling it is incredible." He frowned. "And impossible."
"Sam, while I was working on you, you had some kind of
seizure," she told him. "It could have been a small stroke,
and that can cause nerve damage."
"Then I would have some paralysis as well, which I
don't." He looked down at himself. "Everything seems to be
working very well."
"Yeah, but you were in shock, too. Sometimes a
combination of these things can do some weird stuff to the
body." When he would have sat up the rest of the way she
pressed his arm. "Take it slow. If you fall, I don't think
I'm going to be able to pick you up without help." She put
her arm around his back. "Anytime you want to stop, just
tell me."
As he moved into a sitting position, Taske's head
remained as clear as his sight. He felt no discomfort,
numbness, or any sensation other than that of his muscles
coiling and uncoiling to accommodate his movements. As
Charlotte stood up and watched him he eased his legs over
the side of the bed, and then slowly rose. Expecting his
knees to buckle, he put a hand on her shoulder, but his
legs remained strong and steady.
"I've walked with a limp since I was a teenager." He
took one step, and then another, and suddenly,
effortlessly, he was moving across the room. It had been so
long since he'd walked without using a cane that his hand
and arm felt odd, but not once did he lose his balance or
stagger. Joy rushed through him, a genie released after a
thousand years bottled up who had granted his dearest wish
without even asking him. He turned around and strode to
Charlotte, seizing her by the waist and lifting her off her
feet to twirl her around.
"Look at me." He laughed. "Charlotte, I can walk. My
God, I think I can even run."
"That's terrific, Sam." Her hands clamped on his
shoulders. "Would you put me down now?"
"Forgive me." He laughed again as he lowered her back to
her feet and pulled her against him in an affectionate
hug. "You can't know what this means." He cradled her face
between his hands. "I thought I was a dead man—no, I knew I
was—and now I wake up and I can walk." He stroked a hand
over her tousled hair before he kissed her pretty mouth.
The delight pouring through him grew heated as he tasted
the sweetness of her lips, and suddenly his excitement
became urgent and dark. He filled his hands with her hair
and nudged her lips apart, inhaling her startled breath and
tasting her with his tongue. Her hands slid up his chest,
pressing for a moment before they curved around his neck.
He wanted to laugh again as he splayed his hands over her
back and worked them down to the luscious curves of her
hips. Before this he could only look at her and wish, but
now that he was healed, now that he was strong, he could be
like any other man, and take her to his bed, and give her
hours and hours of pleasure. . . .
His bed was in Tannerbridge, not here.
Taske lifted his mouth from hers. Charlotte stood very
still, her eyes wide and fixed on his face, her cheeks
rosy. She appeared as appalled as he was astonished. He
intended to apologize, instantly and profusely, but the
words he spoke had nothing to do with regret.
"I know you." He lifted a length of her hair to his
nose, breathing in before he let the gold-shot strands fall
back into place. "Your scent, the feel of your skin,
everything about you is new to me. We've never met before I
saw you on the bridge; I'd swear to it. But . . . I know
you."
"I'm pretty sure I would remember meeting a guy your
size." She eased out of his arms and turned her face
away. "Maybe in another life."
What do you think about this review?
Comments
No comments posted.
Registered users may leave comments.
Log in or register now!
|
© 2003-2024 off-the-edge.net
all rights reserved Privacy Policy