Fated: Blood and Redemption
(Baal's Heart Book 3)
by Bey Deckard
Length: 117,000+ words
Genres: Gay (Ménage/Multiple Partners), Historical, Fantasy, Erotic, Action/Adventure, Romance
.jpg){kind=spacer}
With the captain’s mind in shambles, Jon and Tom set out to find the passage home through the black mountain range, hoping to find a cure for Baltsaros’s madness. However, when the men are forced to part ways, darkness takes root in the schism created; fate, lust, and vengeance become obsessions threatening to tear apart the fragile bonds holding the three together.
Following on the heels of Sacrificed, Fated takes the pirates on a quest to find those responsible for the captain’s bloody beginnings. But can they survive what awaits them where past and present meet?
.jpg){kind=spacer}
The ex-spymaster smiled serenely and sat down on the bench, arranging her skirts as she gazed up at him with wide, limpid blue eyes. When she hadn’t said anything after a few moments, he scowled at her.
“What?” he asked, suspicious.
“I may be wrong,” said Ceara lightly as she crossed one knee over the other, “but it seems to me like you’re a man who needs to get a few things off his chest; don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit, Jon. If you like… If you can trust me, I can be the person to listen to you. I can offer my advice, if you want it. And, I promise not to breathe a word of anything you say to me. I swear on my life.”
Jon felt a small swell of gratitude that was quickly shredded into lace by doubt, and he turned away to look again at the looming mountains they were approaching. It was tempting to tell Ceara everything. Just to have someone to talk to. He could tell her about his persistent lack of confidence when it came to his relationship with Baltsaros and Tom. How he felt like he was holding them to ridiculous values that they didn’t believe in… but that he had no idea how to change that about himself. About how deeply, yet differently, he felt for both men. About his strange dreams. About his fears and doubts over Baltsaros’s recovery.
About Baltsaros’s bloody appetites and penchant for outright murder? whispered the little voice inside him.
No. Never about that, he thought. Jon just couldn’t trust her with that information, and far too much of what he could say otherwise was tainted by those secrets.
He turned back to her.
“You are wrong, Ceara. I’m fine,” he said with a wan smile. But when she narrowed her eyes at him, he felt an impatient spark of anger quickly turn to flame and he glowered at her, suddenly sick to death of having his fortitude questioned. “I just don’t need you meddling into my affairs. Now get out of my sight.”
Ceara gaped at him for a half second before her features reclaimed their usual expression of artful scorn. She stood and shook her head.
“I’m going to give you one piece of advice, sweetheart,” she said, tugging her cloak around her as she started down the quarterdeck stairs. “Stop being such a godsdamned prick. It doesn’t suit you.”
“What?” he asked, suspicious.
“I may be wrong,” said Ceara lightly as she crossed one knee over the other, “but it seems to me like you’re a man who needs to get a few things off his chest; don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit, Jon. If you like… If you can trust me, I can be the person to listen to you. I can offer my advice, if you want it. And, I promise not to breathe a word of anything you say to me. I swear on my life.”
Jon felt a small swell of gratitude that was quickly shredded into lace by doubt, and he turned away to look again at the looming mountains they were approaching. It was tempting to tell Ceara everything. Just to have someone to talk to. He could tell her about his persistent lack of confidence when it came to his relationship with Baltsaros and Tom. How he felt like he was holding them to ridiculous values that they didn’t believe in… but that he had no idea how to change that about himself. About how deeply, yet differently, he felt for both men. About his strange dreams. About his fears and doubts over Baltsaros’s recovery.
About Baltsaros’s bloody appetites and penchant for outright murder? whispered the little voice inside him.
No. Never about that, he thought. Jon just couldn’t trust her with that information, and far too much of what he could say otherwise was tainted by those secrets.
He turned back to her.
“You are wrong, Ceara. I’m fine,” he said with a wan smile. But when she narrowed her eyes at him, he felt an impatient spark of anger quickly turn to flame and he glowered at her, suddenly sick to death of having his fortitude questioned. “I just don’t need you meddling into my affairs. Now get out of my sight.”
Ceara gaped at him for a half second before her features reclaimed their usual expression of artful scorn. She stood and shook her head.
“I’m going to give you one piece of advice, sweetheart,” she said, tugging her cloak around her as she started down the quarterdeck stairs. “Stop being such a godsdamned prick. It doesn’t suit you.”
.jpg){kind=spacer}
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
The dramatic conclusion of the Baal's Heart trilogy, FATED took me on a roller coaster ride of emotional responses. Jon, Baltsaros and Tom are adapting to new roles, both in and out of their relationship, after the trauma they experienced in Sacrificed: Heart Beyond the Spires. Forced to make difficult choices while under pressure, their personal demons are closer to the surface than ever. Emotions are strained and loyalties are challenged as some of their worst nightmares come to life.
Expertly written, FATED combines the trio's experiences from Caged: Love and Treachery on the High Seas and Sacrificed: Heart Beyond the Spires into a powerful culmination of events. In order to create the firm foundation their relationship requires, each man must first learn to recognize their own strengths and weaknesses, accept themselves, trust their instincts and gain confidence in themselves independently of the group. I absolutely adored this finale but at the same time I wasn't ready for the story to end. I'm a long time fan of fantasy fiction but I tip my hat to Bey Deckard for renewing my long lost love of historical romance.
Bey Deckard; Artist, Writer, Dog Lover.
Born and raised in a small coastal town in northern Québec, Bey spent his early summers on his uncle’s boat and running wild on the beaches of the surrounding islands, lighting fires and building huts out of driftwood and fishermen’s nets. As an adult, he eventually made his way to university and earned a degree in Art History with a strong focus on Anthropology. Primarily a portrait painter and graphic artist, Bey sat down one day and decided to write about the two things that he felt most passionate about: sex and the sea.
Bey currently lives in the wilds of Montréal with his best buddy, a spotty pit bull named Murphy.
No comments:
Post a Comment