Firestorm: Book Four of the SoulShares Series

by Rory Ni Coileain

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Rian Sheridan is a foundling, a Falls Road corner boy, whose world went up in flames beside an Orangemen’s bonfire of hatred last July the Twelfth. A pain he barely remembers is a siren’s call, taunting him, daring him to find its source and lose himself to it. And he searches in the only place he knows, the S&M underground of Belfast.

Cuinn an Dearmad is the last surviving Fae Loremaster. He’s just seen the beginning of the death of the Realm, the home of the Fae race and their haven from the twisted evil of the Marfach. The only hope of saving the Realm starts with finding the Prince Royal of Fire he himself stole from the cradle, and lost in the human world, many years ago. He has a few guesses about where that hope ends, none of which bode well for him.

Rian and Cuinn are an impossible pairing, two SoulShared Fae. Any two Fae strike sparks, but these two Fae are an explosive combination. Drawn into an escalating series of sexual collisions, their passion will save —or destroy — two worlds.

TheSoulShares series was a runner-up and double honorable mention, for Best Gay Fantasy Romance, 2014 Rainbow Awards; and a Finalist for Best Erotica, 2014Preditors & Editors Readers Poll

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Groaning again,Rian pulled a pillow over his head. How could something as good as what Cuinn did to himhave made an even bigger balls-up of his life than it had beenbefore? The only pleasure he’d everknown had come from pain. Before the night ofthe bonfire, he’d been something of a joke among his friends, the beautiful boy who’d never been kissed,not that he gave a fuck. It never mattered to him. On the Twalf, he’d embraced the pain. At firstfor the sweetness of the vengeance, a vengeance and a sweetness he’d known even then couldn’t be anything human. But there was more, beyond the pain, beyondthe pleasure that followed on itsheels. Each time he indulged his dark craving, there was a delicious terror, as something buried inhim came closer to stirring to life. Something he feared, but something heneeded. And whatever it was, sinceyesterday it was barreling down on him like alorry with failed brakes.

The treatmentCuinn had given him in the coffee shop had donenothing for any of his needs. Not a fecking thing. Has anyone ever been gentle with you? the other Faeasked. Hell no, for he’d never wanted that.

Why was it sogood, to get what he didn’t want, didn’t need, and couldn’t use?

Copyright © 2015 Rory Ni Coileain

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Rory Ni Coileain

Rory Ni Coileain majored in creative writing, back when Respectable Colleges didn’t offer such a major. She had to design it herself, at a university which boasted one professor willing to teach creative writing: a British surrealist who went nuts over students writing dancing bananas in the snow but did not take well to high fantasy. Graduating Phi Beta Kappa at the age of nineteen, she sent off her first short story to an anthology that was being assembled by an author she idolized.from this she received one of those rejection letters that puts therapists’ kids through college. For the next thirty years or so she found other things to do: such as going to law school, ballet dancing (at more or less the same time), and nightclub singing, until her stories started whispering to her. Now she’s a lawyer and a legal editor; the proud mother of a proud Brony and budding filmmaker; and is busily wedding her love of myth and legend to her passion for m/m romance. She is the winner of the Rainbow Books Award.