Review: Dreamfever (Fever #4) by Karen Moning

MacKayla Lane lies naked on the cold stone floor of a church, at the mercy of the erotic Fae master she once swore to kill. Far from home, unable to control her sexual hungers, MacKayla is now fully under the Lord Master’s spell.…In New York Times bestselling author Karen Marie Moning’s stunning new novel, the walls between human and Fae worlds have come crashing down. And as Mac fights for survival on Dublin’s battle-scarred streets, she will embark on the darkest—and most erotically charged—adventure of her life.

He has stolen her past, but MacKayla will never allow her sister’s murderer to take her future. Yet even the uniquely gifted sidhe-seer is no match for the Lord Master, who has unleashed an insatiable sexual craving that consumes Mac’s every thought—and thrusts her into the seductive realm of two very dangerous men, both of whom she desires but dares not trust.

As the enigmatic Jericho Barrons and the sensual Fae prince V’lane vie for her body and soul, as cryptic entries from her sister’s diary mysteriously appear and the power of the Dark Book weaves its annihilating path through the city, Mac’s greatest enemy delivers a final challenge.…

It’s an invitation Mac cannot refuse, one that sends her racing home to Georgia, where an even darker threat awaits. With her parents missing and the lives of her loved ones under siege, Mac is about to come face-to-face with a soul-shattering truth—about herself and her sister, about Jericho Barrons…and about the world she thought she knew.

My Quickie Review:

I just loved, Dreamfever, the fourth installment, of Karen Moning’s (KM) Fever Series. The unresolved sexual tension (UST) that´s been predominant through the first three books has finally ended, and boy, oh boy, did KM smut the fluff! =)

Mac started the book as a Pri-ya, a Fae sex addict, and she spent two months recovering *rawr* with Jericho. She finally got on speaking terms with Rowena, the petunia, and now they´ve joined forces. There is a lot of non-stop action and progress happening in the book, and of course a cliffie at the end that would make me scream if I hadn´t already bought the last book! *phew*

Everything comes together at the end and is set up nicely for the final bang in the next and last book of the series. Absolutely loved and recommend this book!

Death. Pestilence. Famine.

They surround me, my lovers, the terrifying Unseelie Princes.

Who‘d‘ve thought destruction could be so beautiful? Seductive. Consuming. My fourth lover—War? He ministers to me tenderly. Ironic for the bringer of Chaos, creator of Calamity, maker of Madness—if that is who he is. I cannot see his face, no matter how I try.

Why does he hide?

He caresses my skin with hands of fire. I char, my skin blisters, bones fuse from sexual heat no
human can endure. Lust consumes me. I arch my back and beg for more with parched tongue,
cracked lips. As he fills my body, he quenches my thirst with drink. Liquid spills over my tongue, drips down my throat. I convulse. He moves inside me. I catch a glimpse of skin, muscle, a flash of tattoo. Still no face. He terrifies me, this one who keeps himself concealed.

In the distance, someone barks commands. I hear many things, understand none. I know that I have fallen into enemy hands. I know also, soon, I will no longer know even that. Pri-ya, a Fae sex addict, I will believe there is no place, nothing else I would rather be.

If my thoughts were coherent enough to form sentences, I would tell you that I used to think life
unfolded in a linear fashion. That people were born and went to … what‘s that human word? I dressed up for it every day. There were boys. Lots of cute boys. I thought the world revolved around them.

His tongue is in my mouth, and it’s tearing apart my soul.
Helpmesomeonepleasehelpmemakehimstopmakethemgoaway.

School. That‘s the word I‘m looking for. After that, you get a job. Marry. Have … what are they? Fae can‘t have them. Don‘t understand them. Precious little lives. Babies! If you‘re lucky, you live a good, full life and grow old with someone you love. Caskets then. Wood gleams. I weep. A sister? Bad! Memory hurts! Let it go!

They’re in my womb. They want my heart. Tear it open. Gorge on passion they can’t feel. Cold. How can fire be so cold?

Focus, Mac. Important. Find the words. Deep breath. Don‘t think about what‘s happening to you.

See. Serve. Protect. Others at risk. So many died. Can‘t be for nothing. Think of Dani. She‘s you
inside, beneath that adolescent thumbs-in-the-pockets, one hip cocked, thousand-yard stare. I orgasm without ceasing. I become the orgasm. Pleasure-pain! Exquisite! Mind-melting, soul-shredding, the more they fill me the emptier I am. It’s slipping, all slipping, but before it goes, before it’s gone completely, I get a hateful moment of clarity and see that most of what I believed about myself, and life, I derived from modern media, without questioning any of it.

If I wasn‘t sure how to behave in a certain situation, I‘d search my mind for a movie or TV show I‘d seen, with a similar setup, and do whatever the actors had done. A sponge, I absorbed my environment, became a byproduct of it.

I don‘t think I ever once looked up at the sky and wondered if there was sentient life in the universe besides the human race. I know I never looked down at the earth beneath my feet and contemplated my own mortality. I tunneled blithely through magnolia-drenched days, blind as a
mole to everything but guys, fashion, power, sex, whatever would make me feel good right then.
But these are confessions I would make if I could speak, and I can‘t. I‘m ashamed. I‘m so ashamed.

Who the fuck are you? Someone shouted that question at me recently—his name eludes me.
Someone who frightens me. Excites me.

Life‘s not linear at all.

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Rating: 5 Kisses