GIFT OF MAGIC LYNN KURLAND PDF

Shelves: favorite-series , fantasy , supernatural , romance I have been caught up in this series for awhile now and enjoyed every minute of it. This the third book of the second trilogy, each trilogy featuring a different couple, but they are taking place almost at the same time and in the same world. The characters, both the major and the minor ones are interwoven between the stories. I have read some reviews of these books from people who did not care for them, but they seem to very often just not be their kind of books. This series is a romance but a I have been caught up in this series for awhile now and enjoyed every minute of it. This series is a romance but a they are sweet and chaste, not torrid and earth shattering like so often found in romance novels these days.

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One T he spell slammed into him with the force of a score of fists. Ruithneadh of Ceangail met the ground with equal force. He lay on his back, winded, and stared up into the darkness above him. It was still at least an hour before dawn, so he supposed it was possible it was merely the heavens still displaying their sparkling finery. He would have blinked the stinging rain out of his eyes, but it was too much effort.

Breathing was too much effort as well given that all that seemed to be left of him was a void in his chest where his breath was accustomed to reside.

That was his own fault, he supposed. And why not? His opponent had been a worthy one, and he had himself been eager to take any opportunity to improve his rather meager magical strength. In his defense, he had tried. He had spent the previous score of winters in a house on the side of a mountain, conducting his life by purely pedestrian means.

Any magic he might or might not have possessed had been nothing but a distant and unpleasant memory, a memory that had occasionally plagued his dreams but never his waking hours— He pursed his lips, the only part of him that seemed to be capable of movement at the moment. Very well, so memories of magic had plagued his dreams more than occasionally and intruded more than he wanted to admit upon his daylight ruminations.

At least he had until his peaceful if not exactly useful existence had come to an abrupt end one evening at twilight when a knock had sounded on his door.

It would take his mind off the road in front of him, a road he knew would include death, danger, and duels of spells with men who would no doubt continue to suddenly and without warning appear from his past. Such as the one leaning over him, frowning thoughtfully at him. He found he had breath after all to at least wheeze out a vile suggestion as to what his opponent might do with his annoying observations.

Mochriadhemiach of Neroche only laughed, grasped Ruith by the hand, and hauled him up to his feet. He stood back and looked him over critically. They had spent a fair amount of time together as lads, slipping away from responsible adults to whisper along passageways as chill breezes only to regroup in private to have lengthy looks at books of spells housed behind sturdy locks.

At least there was no one there to watch him shake not only from weariness but from revulsion over the disgusting nature of the spells Miach was no doubt dredging up for his benefit alone. He had no desire to know from whence Miach had unearthed them. He had been willing, after all, to abandon not only sleep but an inedible breakfast to march out into the gloom and toss a few spells about. Admirable traits, those.

He was also lazy, illustrated by the fact that he seemed content to simply stand there and yawn for a bit. Ruith was happy to take advantage of that to put off the torture for a bit longer, not only to catch his breath but also to look about himself to make certain they were still about their unpleasant labors unobserved.

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