If you enjoy classic fantasy adventure quests, with evil sorcerers, dragons, romance, not-at-all evil sorcerers, pirates, and treasure maps, and you enjoy indulging in a little broad-minded raunchiness, then you should throw away all your current book-reading places and read Poison & Passion instead. Even better, read Memories & Murder first, but you do not need to read the first book to enjoy the second.
Here’s some nice things people have said after reading Memories & Murder:
“… a solid adventure interspersed by intimate interpersonal exploration…” — Piers Anthony, author of the Xanth series.
“The story and characters are so real and likeable…as they go from one crisis to another that you can’t help but get involved. I laughed and cried with them as they go on their exciting undertaking.” — 5* Amazon.com customer review
“Give this book a try! You will be surprised at this modern cheeky take on fantasy.” — 5* Amazon.com customer review
We think Poison & Passion is even better. Here’s a snippet to show you what we mean.
Finn wasn’t able to sleep for long. He awoke with a start, covered in sweat, and quickly swatted a hand to his side to feel for Tris. It landed on the familiar swell of his back, which jerked slightly at the sudden touch.
Tristane reached an arm back and swatted him dismissively. “Stop messing about, Finn. Not now. Too tired.” He immediately fell back asleep and started to snore gently.
Why haven’t I been sleeping well? And what’s with these dreams? Finn ran a hand through his messy hair and shook his head, pulling the sheets off of him. Elder knew he’d had enough bad dreams before. That was how his memory had come back to him. Ashei’s mom—HIS mom—dying by his hand, and Varrus’s innocent sister … they had been nightmares that he hadn’t known were memories. The fact that it had been his father to blame for it all hurt more than anything. Yet, had he not been sent to Grenvale and Fleurdan, he never would have met Tris or any of them.
He looked back to the sleeping boy, who breathed deeply and steadily. “If it weren’t for you,” Finn thought aloud, sweeping back the tumble of silver from Tris’s fluttering lashes, “I might not be here. You mean more to me than you could possibly know.”
He kissed his cheek gently, the simple gesture unable to convey the depth behind it. Without him he might have lost his mind as his father had. He felt at times like he might still, but Tris was always there to talk to him, to hold him, to just be with him. It was a beautiful bond, one he had never thought he could have and still didn’t fully realize the scope of.
He got out of bed and stretched, the chilled air from the window cooling his warm body. Suddenly, a searing pain tore at his head and he grabbed it, cursing while falling to his knees.
He could bear pain, but this was something far worse. He’d only had twinges before, but this was infusing him with a hot, deep throbbing that made his head feel like it was a drum being beaten by a blacksmith’s hammer. Finn buried his face in his hands as the heat spread to his nose in an agonizing torrent, then he gasped as blood dripped to the stone floor beneath him. What in blazes was going on with him? This wasn’t because of the Magus earlier, was it? It couldn’t be stress.
Shards of pain assaulted him so suddenly that he screamed, waking Tristane out of a dead sleep. He scrambled out of bed and darted over to Finn, grabbing him. “Finn? What’s wrong?” He smoothed back his hair to look into his eyes, then spied the blood. “Your nose … oh, Elder,” his hands drifted down to Finn’s chest, “you’re bleeding all over! Where did these cuts come from?”
Finn looked down. Blood was everywhere, smeared and streaming down his chest, his stomach, his legs…