Ever since the death of his shellan, Tohrment has been a heartbroken shadow of the vampire leader he once was. Brought back to the Brotherhood by a self-serving fallen angel, he fights again with ruthless vengeance, unprepared for a new tragedy. Seeing his beloved in dreams—trapped in a cold, isolated netherworld—Tohr turns to the angel Lassiter to save his former mate. The only way to rescue her is for Tohr to love another. As war with the lessers rages, and a new clan of vampires vie for the Blind King’s throne, Tohr struggles between an unforgettable past and a hot, passion-filled future. But can his heart let go and set all of them free?
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“The bastard’s taking the bridge! He’s mine!”
Tohrment waited for an answering whistle, and when it came, he tore off after the lesser, his shitkickers slamming into puddles, his legs going piston, his hands fisting hard. He passed Dumpsters and parked POSs, scattered rats and homeless people, jumped over a barricade, vaulted over a motorcycle.
Three a.m. in downtown Caldwell, New York, gave you just enough obstacles to keep shit amusing. Unfortunately, the little gnat of a slayer up ahead was taking him in a direction he didn’t want to go in.
As they hit the entrance ramp to the westbound bridge, Tohr wanted to kill the fool—natch. Unlike the blocks of privacy you could find in the maze of alleys around the clubs, you were guaranteed traffic over the Hudson, even this late. Okay, sure, the Herbert G. Falcheck suspension special wasn’t going to be choked with cars, but there were going to be a few—and God knew every human behind the wheel had a goddamn iPhone these days.
There was one rule in the war between the vampires and the Lessening Society: Stay the fuck away from humans. That race of nosy, upright orangutans was a complication waiting to happen, and the last thing anyone needed was widespread confirmation that Dracula wasn’t a product of fiction, and the walking dead weren’t just a TV show that didn’t suck.
Nobody wanted to frontline on the network news, the papers, the magazines.
Internet was fine. No credibility there.
This down-low tenet was the single thing that the enemy and the Black Dagger Brotherhood agreed upon, the one deference that was given by both sides. So, yeah, the slayers could, say… target your pregnant shellan, shoot her in the face, and leave her for dead, taking away not just her life, but your own. But God forbid they rile up the humans.
’Cuz that would just be wrong.
Unfortunately, this directionally challenged, hydraulic-legged motherfucker up here hadn’t gotten the memo.
Nothing a black dagger in the chest couldn’t fix.
As a growl rose up his throat and his fangs elongated in his mouth, Tohr dug deep and tapped a reserve of high-octane hatred, his gas tank refilling, his flagging energy instantly renewed.
It had been a long road back from the nightmare of his king and his brothers coming to tell him that his life was over. As a bonded male, his female was the beating heart in his chest, and in the absence of his Wellsie, he was a ghost of who he had once been, form without substance. The only thing that animated him was the chase, the capture, and the kill. And the knowledge that he could wake up the next night and find more to take down.
Other than ahvenging his dead, he might as well be in the blessed Fade with his family. Frankly, the latter would be preferable—and who knew, maybe he’d get lucky tonight. Maybe in the heat of a fight he’d suffer a catastrophic mortal injury and be relieved of his burdens.
A male could only hope.
The blare of a car horn followed by a chorus of screeching rubber was the first sign that Captain Complication had found what he was looking for.
Tohr got to the top of the ramp’s rise just in time to catch a quick visual of the slayer bouncing off the hood of a Toyota nothing-special. The impact stopped the sedan dead; didn’t slow down the slayer in the slightest. Like all lessers, the bastard was stronger and more resilient than he’d been as a mere human, the black, oily blood of the Omega giving him a bigger engine, tighter suspension and better handling—as well as racing tires in this case.
Its GPS sucked, for real, though.
The slayer sprang up out of his roll across the pavement like a professional stuntman and, naturally, kept going. He was injured, though, that noxious baby-powder smell of his more pronounced.
Tohr came up to the car just as a pair of humans popped their doors, scrambled out, and started flapping their arms like something was on fire.
“CPD,” Tohr yelled as he ripped past them. “In pursuit!”
This calmed them down, and lined up damage control. It was virtually guaranteed that they’d now become a peanut gallery with all kinds of Kodak inclinations, and that was perfect—when this was all over, he’d know where to find them so he could scrub their memories, and take their cell phones.
Meanwhile, the lesser appeared to be gunning for the pedestrian walkway—not his best move. If Tohr had been in the dumb-ass’s position, he’d have taken over that Toyota and tried to drive off—
“Oh… come on…” Tohr gritted out.
Apparently, the bastard’s goal wasn’t the walkway, but the lip of the bridge itself: The slayer jumped up and over the fencing that contained the pedi-way, and landed on the thin ledge on the far side. Next stop: the Hudson River.
The slayer looked behind himself, and in the peachy glow of the sodium lights, his arrogant expression was that of a sixteen-year-old boy after he’d sucked down a six-pack of beer in front of his friends.
All ego. No brains.
He was going to jump. The fucker was going to jump.
Fidiot. Even though the Omega’s joy juice gave the slayers all that power, it didn’t mean the laws of physics went out the window for them. Einstein’s little ditty about energy equaling mass times acceleration was still going to apply—so when the dipshit hit the water, he was going to get blown apart, sustaining substantial structural damage. Which wouldn’t kill him but would incapacitate the hell out of him.
Fuckers couldn’t die unless they got stabbed. And they could spend eternity in a purgatory of decomposition.
And before his Wellsie’s murder, Tohr probably would have let it go. On the sliding scale of the war, it was more important to wrap those humans up in an amnesiac bullshit blanket and head over to help John Matthew and Qhuinn, who were still handling business back in that alley. Now? There was no pulling out: One way or the other, he and this slayer were going to do a meet-and-greet.
Tohr leaped over the guardrail, hit the walkway, and bounced up onto the fence. Locking a clawhold into the links, he swung his lower body over the top, and landed his shitkickers on the parapet.
The lesser’s beery bravado fizzled a little as he started backing away.
“What, you think I’m afraid of heights?” Tohr said in a low voice. “Or that five feet of chainlink is going to keep me from you?”
The wind howled against them, plastering their clothes to their bodies and whistling through the steel girders. Far, far, far down below, the inky waters of the river were nothing but a vague, dark stretch, like a parking lot.
Gonna feel like asphalt, too.
“I got a gun,” the lesser yelled.
“So take it out.”
“My friends are coming for me!”
“You don’t have any friends.”
The lesser was a new recruit, his hair and eyes and skin having yet to pale out. Lanky and twitchy, he was likely a drug user who suffered from brain-fry—which was no doubt why he’d fallen for the pitch to join the Society.
“I’ll jump! I’ll fucking jump!”
Tohr palmed the handle of one of his two daggers and withdrew the black blade from his chest holster. “So quit yakking and start flying.”
The slayer looked over the edge. “I’ll do it! I swear I’ll do it!”
A gust gave them a blast from a different direction, sweeping Tohr’s long leather coat out over the free fall. “Don’t matter to me. I’ll kill you up here or down there.”
The lesser peered over the edge again, hesitated, and then let ’er rip, leaping to the side and hitting all that nothing-but-air, his arms pinwheeling as if he were trying to keep his balance so he landed feetfirst.
Which at this height would probably just drive his thighbones up into his abdominal cavity. Better than swallowing his own head, however.
Tohr resheathed his dagger and prepared for his own descent, taking a deep breath. And then it was…
As he went over the edge and took that first gasp of antigravity, the irony of the bridge jump wasn’t lost. He’d spent so much time wishing for his death to come, praying for the Scribe Virgin to take his body and send him up to be with his loved ones. Suicide had never been an option; you took your own life, you couldn’t get into the Fade—and that was the only reason he hadn’t cut his wrists, sucked on the business end of a shotgun, or… jumped off a bridge.
In his descent, he let himself enjoy the idea that this was it, that the impact coming in a second and a half was going to be the end of his suffering. All he had to do was reposition his trajectory so he was in a dive, then not protect his head and let the inevitable happen: blackout, likely paralysis, death by drowning.
Except that kind of goner-for-good couldn’t be his end result. Whoever made the call on these things would have to know that, unlike the lesser, he had an out.
Calming his mind, he dematerialized himself from the free fall—one moment gravity had a death grip on him; the next he was nothing but an invisible cloud of molecules that he could will in any direction he wanted.
Next door, the slayer hit the water not with the splash! of someone going off the side of a pool, or the ker-chunk of somebody working a diving board. The fucker was like a missile hitting a target, and the explosion registered in the form of a sonic cracking as gallons of displaced Hudson River shot up into the brisk air.
Tohr, on the other hand, chose to re-form himself on top of the massive concrete support to the right of the impact site. Three… two… one…
A head popped up downstream of the still-bubbling entrance point. No arms moving in an attempt to regain access to oxygen. No legs kicking. No gasping.
But it wasn’t dead: You could run them over with your car, beat them until your own fist broke, rip their arms and/or legs off, do whatever the hell you wanted… and they would still be alive.
Fuckers were the ticks of the underworld. And there was no way he wasn’t getting wet.
Tohr shrugged off his trench coat, folded it carefully, and left it nestled in the juncture where the upper part of the support met its broad, aquatic base. Getting in the drink with that on his back was a drowning recipe; plus he had to protect his forties and his cell phone.
With a couple of bounding leaps, so he could get enough momentum to put him over open water, he threw himself into dive formation, his arms pointed above his head, his palms together, his body straight as an arrow. Unlike the lesser, his penetration was elegant and smooth, even though he came at the surface of the Hudson from a good twelve- to fifteen-foot drop.
Cold. Really frickin’ cold.
After all, it was late April in upstate New York—which was still a good month away from anything remotely balmy.
Exhaling through his mouth as he stroked up from the depths, he fell into a powerful freestyle. When he got to the slayer, he locked a grip onto the jacket and began pulling the undead weight to shore.
Where he would finish this. So he could go look for the next one.
As Tohr went off the side of the bridge, John Matthew’s own life flashed before his eyes—sure as if he were the one whose shitkickers had left solid ground in favor of nothing-but-net.
He was on the shore, under the exit ramp, when it happened, in the process of finishing off the slayer he’d been chasing: From out of the corner of his eye, he saw something go into a fall from the great height above the river.
It hadn’t made sense at first. Any lesser with half a brain would know that wasn’t a good escape route. Except then everything had become too clear. A figure was standing on the lip of the bridge, leather coat billowing around like a shroud.
Noooooooo, John had shouted while making no sound at all.
“Motherfucker, he’s going to jump,” Qhuinn spat from behind him.
John lunged forward, for all the good that would do, and then screamed mutely as the closest thing he had to a father jumped.
Later, John would reflect that moments like this had to be what people said of death itself—as you one-plus-oned the series of events that were unfolding, and the math added up to certain destruction, your mind flipped into slide-show mode, showing you clips of life as you had always known it:
John sitting at Tohr and Wellsie’s table that first night after he’d been adopted into the vampire world… The expression on Tohr’s face as the blood results had announced that John was Darius’s son… That nightmarish moment when the Brotherhood had arrived to tell them both that Wellsie was gone…
Then came images from the second act: Lassiter bringing a shriveled shell of Tohr back from wherever he had been… Tohr and John finally losing it together over the murder… Tohr gradually working his strength up… John’s own shellan appearing in the red gown that Wellsie had mated Tohr in…
Man, destiny sucked ass. It just had to barge in and piss all over everyone’s rose garden.
And now it was taking a shit in the other flower beds.
Except then Tohr abruptly disappeared into thin air. One moment he was all fly-be-free; the next, he was gone.
Thank God, John thought.
“Thank you, baby Jesus,” Qhuinn breathed.
A moment later, on the far side of a pylon, a dark arrow sliced into the river.
Without a glance or a word between them, he and Qhuinn tore off in that direction, getting to the rocky shore just as Tohr surfaced, grabbed the slayer, and started to swim in. As John got into position to help drag the lesser onto dry land, his eyes locked on Tohr’s grim, pale face.
The male looked dead, even though he was technically alive.
I got him, John signed as he leaned in, nabbed the closest arm, and heaved the soaking-wet slayer out of the river. The thing landed in a heap and did an excellent impression of a fish, eyes bulging, mouth gaping, little clicking sounds coming from its wide-open gullet.
But whatever, Tohr was the issue, and John looked the Brother over as he emerged from the water: Leather pants were sticking like glue to thighs that were thin, muscle shirt was second-skinned to a flat chest, cropped black hair with that white stripe was standing straight up even though it was wet.
Dark blue eyes were locked on the lesser.
Or studiously ignoring John’s stare.
Tohr reached down and grabbed the lesser by the throat. Baring fangs that were viciously long, he growled, “Told you.”
Then he outted his black dagger and started stabbing.
John and Qhuinn had to step back. It was either that or get a paint job.
“He could just hit the damn chest,” Qhuinn muttered, “and get this over with.”
Except killing the slayer wasn’t the point. Desecration was.
That sharp black blade penetrated every square inch of flesh—except for the sternum, which was the lights-out switch. With each slashing blow, Tohr exhaled hard; with every jerk free, the Brother inhaled deep, the rhythm of respiration driving the gruesome scene.
“Now I know how they make shredded lettuce.”
John rubbed his face, and hoped that was the end of the commentary.
Tohr didn’t slow down. He just stopped. And in the aftermath, he listed to the side, propping himself up by throwing a hand out to the oil-soaked dirt. The slayer was… well, shredded, yeah, but he wasn’t finished.
There’d be no helping out, though. In spite of Tohr’s obvious exhaustion, John and Qhuinn knew better than to mess with the end game. They’d seen this before. The final strike had to be Tohr’s.
After a couple of moments of recovery, the Brother lurched back into position, double-handing the dagger and lifting the blade over his head.
A hoarse cry tore out of his throat as he buried the point in the chest of what was left of his prey. As bright light flashed, the tragic expression on Tohr’s face was illuminated, a comic book rendering of his twisted, horrific features, caught for a moment… and an eternity.
He always stared down into the illumination, even though the impermanent sun was too bright to look into.
After it was done, the Brother slumped sure as if his spinal column had turned to putty, his energy disappearing. Clearly, he needed to feed, but that subject, like so many others, was a no-go.
“What time is it,” he got out between breaths.
Qhuinn snagged a peek at his Suunto. “Two a.m.”
Tohr looked up from the stained ground he’d been staring at, focusing his red-rimmed eyes on the part of downtown they’d just come from.
“How about we go back to the compound.” Qhuinn took out his cell phone. “Butch isn’t far away—”
“No.” Tohr shoved himself back and sat on his ass. “Don’t call anyone. I’m fine—just need to catch my breath.”
Bull. Shit. The guy was not any closer to fine than John was at the moment. Although, granted, only one of them was dripping wet in a fifty-degree gust.
John shoved his hands into the Brother’s field of vision. We’re going home now—
Wafting over on the breeze, like an alarm breaking through a silent house, the scent of baby powder tickled into each of their noses.
The stench did what all that breathing on the ground couldn’t: It got Tohr onto his feet. Gone was the logy disorientation—hell, if you’d pointed out to him that he was still wet as a fish, he probably would have been surprised.
“There’re more,” he snarled.
As he took off, John cursed at the maniac.
“Come on,” Qhuinn said. “Let’s get our run on. This is going to be a long night.”
Excerpted from "Lover Reborn"
Copyright © 2012 J.R. Ward.
Excerpted by permission of Penguin Publishing Group.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
What People are Saying About This
“J.R. Ward's unique band of brothers is to die for. I love this series!” —New York Times bestselling author Suzanne Brockmann
“Utterly absorbing and deliciously erotic…The Brotherhood is the hottest collection of studs in romance. I can’t wait for the next one!” —New York Times bestselling author Angela Knight
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
I've waited for the story of Tohr to come full circle since Lassiter found him in the woods. He is so important to all the Brothers, and with his spirit being broken, they are all a little incomplete. I know it is hard for fans to move on from Wellsie, but it had to happen and I think it makes for an excellent story and JR Ward did a great job. Tohr is often a jackass to No'One, but she always defends herself, how can that not be respected? They are both hurting and punishing themselves. Everything that happened in this story, needed to happen, and the outcome was worth it. No'One has her own journey to take and it is so important to Tohr's, Lassiter's, and to Xhex's future. I think the sub-plot of John and Xhex is so important and true to their characters. Xhex may have choosen to follow her heart with John by mating him in Lover Mine, but she still had to find her place in the Brotherhood that fits her. Xhex and No'One also had to develope their relationship and find how they fit together- they each offered the other unconditional acceptance and love. It is actually the most beautiful part of the book. I have to say, I love Lassiter and Layla and always have. Lover Reborn gives us a different view of them (for different reasons), and they both grow in depth and direction and offer a lot to the story. There is a lot going on in this book, and it is all important to keep the story going in the future. The writing is tight and organized. I for one am not ready for the series to end, so the changes and introduction of new characters are important to the longevity of the story; and I like them and look forward to seeing how it all plays out. Now here's my rant- we are ten books into a series that features several complicated long term plot lines, many players, and a whole city built by JR Wards imagination. I'm tired of the reviews complaining that none of the books have been the same since book five. Duh!! How could they be? The first five served as world building, singular romances-featuring one hero and his HEA, but the series could not continue from that point focusing on only one male and female and ignore the previous characters, and the world of Caldwell that was ever more complicated. Ward always shows a great amount of passion and love for her characters, some get a little more nurturing than others (what writer doesn't do the same?) What the heck people? If you want only the standard contemporary romance formula, look elsewhere, and stop sucking the enjoyment of this series from the rest of us.
Loved it. Great book, great story. I was very entertained.
Lover Reborn opens 15 months after the death of Tohr's bonded mate of 200 years, Wellesandra (Wellsie), with Tohr still suffering greatly. To kick start his reluctant relationship with No'One (Xhex's mother who committed suicide but was reanimated by the Scribe Virgin about 300 years earlier and who has spent these years wallowing in self-hatred), Ward puts Tohr on a timetable by trapping Wellsie "In Between" and has the angel Lassiter tell Tohr that he needs to fall in love to free her and his unborn child. The book is really all about Tohr's pain and he spends a lot of it being cruel to No'One. There is not much in the way of actual romance and No'One herself seems quite intentionally the blandest female of the series, the polar opposite of Wellsie, and one who readily acknowledges that what Tohr had with Wellsie was a once in a lifetime love. As the story progresses, Tohr isn't in love with No'One and then suddenly . . . he is! In a rushed ending, he gives away Wellsie's things, sells their house, apologizes to No'One, and invites her to Wellsie's Fade Ceremony. Tohr's feelings of profound grief and No'One's self-hatred which were pretty well done to this point, are both put aside from almost one page to the next as if it were as simple as deciding not to feel that way any more and ultimately made the rushed "I love you's" at the end unconvincing. Turns out it was Tohr who was actually holding Wellsie back by refusing to let go, so she and his unborn son are now able to move on to the Fade. Ward's world building has always had issues with clarity and now crumble in a rushed conclusion falling back on deus ex machina plot devices, as No'One herself has apparently also been trapped In Between but is saved just moments after Wellsie has moved on to the Fade with a sacrifice by Lassiter that is not revealed. If there was ever a story that truly needed the world building to be clearly explained, this was it. There should have been a good reason for No'One to receive her life back, not just that she forgave herself and was available for Lassiter to save. But no explanations are forthcoming and even though Ward must have surely known for years how some readers would react to a solution that lacked some sense of fairness, the bottom line appears to be that No'One (a resurrected suicide) gets to live while Wellsie (a murder victim) has to stay dead because that was their destiny. Though most readers are certainly aware that life isn't fair, they should be forgiven if they would prefer a bit more fun and escapism in their fictional vampire romance novels. In Lover Reborn, Ward moves further into urban fantasy with multiple storylines, more emotional pain and much less romance. Since it isn't possible for Tohr to bond again, there is no bonding scent, no "mine" moment, and the ending is more along the lines of happy-for-now, with Wellsie awaiting Tohr in the Fade. Though nobody expects rainbows and unicorns from Ward, it doesn't seem too much to hope for more joy and escapism, especially since so many other characters have been allowed to cheat death including No'One (renamed "Autumn"). The message that you can recover from tragedy and find a measure of happiness is fine, but didn't resonate given the ultimately unconvincing Tohr/No'One relationship, along with the distraction of the contrived plot and truly poor world building. Most definitely not a romance with a couple that should both be heading to therapy instead of mating. 1 star.
COME ON, Jr Ward. Where is your head?!! I had SUCH high hopes for this book and I am yet again let down! This story, while remaining on Thor and No'One for the most part, was so predictable. I have literally cried my eyes out in previous books (Namely Z's) and I thought for sure this one would take me over the edge emotionally... but it didn't. What about the rest of the world she created? Who is the forelesser, who is creating all these new recruits and setting them loose in Caldwell? Where is the Scribe Virgin, Omega? WHO IS MURHDER?! Did the rifle found match the bullet? What about all the research Saxton was doing? I am SO tired of being left hanging with so many unresolved story lines. Although this book was def. an improvement of Payne's, I still feel like Jr Ward is lost and needs to refocus herself. I'm mostly just sad, again, because here's to another year of waiting patiently and anxiously for the next installment. I hope I won't be let down again for Quinn and Blay's book. :((((
I really liked this book, but it seems more and more JR Ward is getting away from how this series initially started. I do think that having background stories is almost necessary in a series but the main story should still get most of the spotlight. This does not seem to be the case with the last several books in this series. This was not JM and Xhex's book but they got a lot of "page time." I understand that writers and series evolve but sometimes it's too much. Also, I have a problem with all the street lingo in the last several books. And, my biggest gripe of all, why would No'One be allowed to return from the in between after trying to take her own life, and not Wellsie? There needs to be more focus on the main couple, less focus on the background stories and less street lingo.
First of let me say that I am a big fan of the BDB universe. I believed in its rules and in the love each of the brothers had/have for their shellans (bonded/mate). I loved this world because it took me out of everyday life and it provided something different. With this said "Lover Reborn" destroyed everything I believed in. Tohr was one of my favorite brothers and his shellan Wellsie was an amazing character even though we got very little of her. She was independent, happy, strong, loving and always willing to help. When she was shot I cried so much and felt the pain and I believe thats what an author wants but in this book instead of returning the innocent shellan and her innocent child back into the world like other have been return she is stuck in a bare desolate place fading away into nothing unless her bonded/mate Tohr moves on. What really angered me is this I understand he has to move on but he is forced to move on. He is given a time limit and he needs to get with another woman. Now I truly believed that shellans and hellrens were each others life/world but we learn in this book something different. Through all the suffering that Tohr has gone through because of his loss we learn that he can move on with another woman and he can love her even more than his Wellsie. To top it of no'one his new woman is also dead and she gets three chances at life. A person that was selfish and conceded. She also kills her self after giving birth because she was raped. Abandons her daughter that suffers through life and she doesn't even want to see. This person deserves to live over Wellsie and her innocent son that did not get a chance to breath. And the excuse we get is because Wellsie did not want to leave her son in the Fade. Sorry but how is that right I know this is an alternative universe but everyone else has come back why couldn't they. And to top it off Tohr has his new woman at his bonded/mate and son's fade ceremony and then sleeps with her afterward no respect for the dead. I was so disappointed I expected more from Ms. Ward. I am interested in the BoB they seem to be the future characters to eventually get books. Assail seems like an interesting character. But I will no longer believe in the love these brother profess for their shellans because they can easily move if they have to. This universe has crumbled for me, it is a mess and anything can happen. I hope she tries to fix it because if she doesn't she will lose fans. I don't know if I want to continue reading about this world that does not stand true anymore. Being bonded/mated does not mean the same to me anymore. Please give me back what I believed and loved this amazing love between a bonded male and his bonded shellan. I do not want to read about this couple anymore please have them disappear unless you are bringing back Wellsie and her son. Tohrment has fallen from grace I no longer like him. So if you believe in true love don't read this book. no'one and Tohr had no chemistry they were forced, become sex buddies and then conveniently fell in love I did not feel it sorry.
Has the Warden Lost her Touch? Review brought to you by OBS staff member I’m going to start off reminiscing back to when I first started reading this series. At the end of the first book, Dark Lover, Wellsie was helping Beth prepare for her mating ceremony. That is when Wellsie confided in Beth and us readers that she was pregnant. Nervous Tohr was so protective and worried about his shellan and whether or not she would make it through the pregnancy safely. I thought for sure they were leading up to a Tohr book so I was dumbfounded when the second book focused on Rhage (my favorite brother by the way). Then book after book went by none of them being Tohr’s. So before I even cracked the spine of this book, or turned on the ereader in this case I was left wondering….did Ward wait too long? After losing everything that is dear to Tohr, is there really anything interesting to tell? Is there enough to keep the readers interested and make them fall in love with this tortured soul? I had my doubts, but I tried to remain optimistic since I wasn’t really interested in John Matthew or Rehvenge’s stories either, but ended up loving them. But I’m sad to report that was not the case with this novel. First off, Tohr was a total jerk during most of this book. I understand that you’re still hurt from losing your loved ones, but I don’t think that gives you the right to treat everyone like shit. I seriously just wanted to smack the crap out of him and was elated when Lassiter finally hauled off and punched him! Speaking of Lassiter, I absolutely love him and have since he was first introduced to the series. But I found this book to be lacking his usual humor, which is what drew me to him to start with. I am, however, glad this book ended with an opening for us to be able to see more of him, even if he won’t be living at the brotherhood compound anymore. Now let’s move on to No’One. This character drove me freaking crazy! I could not stand her. This woe is me crap just grates my nerves. She has no personality and no self-esteem or self-worth. I had a very hard time believing someone that was raped and gave birth to a child she thought was an abomination and was so traumatized that she killed herself would let herself be used for blood and sex the way she let Tohr do. Anything he wanted she did. She quit wearing the robe because he didn’t want her to, she gave him sex at a drop of a hat, she even changed her name because he liked the name Autumn (insert eye roll here). This character was just way to wimpy and boring for me to find interest with. She let people walk all over her and I could not connect with her. I thought an attempt to put her in a romance was a wasted effort. I found the end of the book to be really stupid. It tied in the theme of the novel being about moving on, but the whole Autumn passing onto the Fade and Lassiter going to save her was just really lame. As for the other storylines going on in this book… See the FULL review and more at openbooksociety dot com
I am done with this series also. Ward can't seem to keep focused. With every book (1 per year) in this series, I am left with more questions and not the kind of questions that would give any insite to the next book, but the simple questions that she can't or won't answer or wrap up since book #1. Ward has been saying for years that she is comming out with several novella's, but she has yet to produce. Ward seems to back herself up in a corner and can't seem to get out smoothly. Lover Reborn was very predictable and un-exciting. And the added John & Xhex, Qhuinn & Blaylock & Saxton, the Band of B*****ds.....is it me? because I didn't read anything new about them. Tohr's story just seem to drag out and I am really disappointed because he was one of my favorite characters. I just hate it when a series starts out great and then the author starts a different series and you can start to see the first series go down hill. I too wanted so much to love this book, but just can't. This series has ran out of steam for me. I will say one good thing about this book....no full chapters on Lessers!
*WARNING contains spoilers.* This one was better then the last one but come on tohr and autumn worst couple ever. Could not stand them together. There was alot of things that didn't add up like why was autumn saved but not wellesandra and her young. Why is tohr not giving off a bonding scent. Why does tohr have to get over the lose of his mate so quickly. I just think autumn was so plain, boring and just generally not exciting. Her and tohr have no spark or connection. Then the whole xhex and autumn thing. One minute autumn is afraid of xhex and basically killed herself because she gave birth to an "abomination" (xhex). And the next minute they are like best friends going for rides on a motorcycle seriously??????? And finally i want quinn and blau
I thought Ward did an excellent job in Lover Mine setting up the potential for Tohr to love No'one, so the love story worked for me. I wish No'one had slapped him silly a few times--he =so= deserved it. I also liked seeing more of Lassiter and seeing more of his good qualities. The reason I gave this only three stars is that the entire idea of Wellsie and her son being stuck in the Fade felt too contrived to me. There are countless people who have a difficult, if not impossible time, recovering from the trauma of having a loved one murdered. Nothing in Ward's universe up until this time set up the possibility of holding innocent spirit's hostage to a widower's grief. It cheapened Tohr's feelings, somehow.
Big improvement over the last two books - which in my opinion were certainly lacking in just about every way - but still not as good as her other novels. The emotions I felt when reading most of the earlier novels is gone. I enjoyed this book, but just wish I could feel sucked into the BDB world as I once was.
This book was awesome! Definitely one of my favorites. If you like the BDB series you'll love this one! (:
I have been following this series forever! And finally, we get to our beloved Tohr. It was much needed and a long time coming! However... I don't think she gave as much as she could have. I do enjoy these side stories...but Tohr was/is very important and I think we missed the mark here. Oh, the book was good...just not fantastic as it could have been. I <3 Warden and this series, but I'm left wanting, restless, and even more desperate for the next BDB fix!
Love this series. Next one is coming out the end of this month.
While hard to read through Tor's anguish for his lost love, it was great to see how he comes to terms that not all of his marriage to his beloved was all great. This book packs so much into one novel and brings a new beginning and finality to many sub stories going on. Lassiter is the breakout character in this entire series for me, he made me laugh so much it just hurt! The gifts Tor recieves leading up to the fade ceremony just made me lose it, I literally bawled my head off. Wonderful writing by a great story teller and looking forward to yet her topping herself once again with Lover at Last.
This is a great series! Each book gets better, and this one is no different. J. R. Ward out does herself each time. Cannot wait for the next book!!
Gives you hope for love
love reading j r wards books the black dagar brotherhood series waiting for the next book to come out
I love the connection between NoOne and torh. Torh is lost from the death of his shellen and is whithering down to nothing. Then NoOne shows up and gives him both flashbacks from the past and a new reason to live. I enjoyed xhex and johns story in this book as well. Lets face it, john mathew is a sexy sexy mute. Im not sure how im feeling about the direction ward is taking quinn. He's definently hot and sexy, and the way he treats layla is charming and special. Im all for m/m that can be sexy too but as of right now after reading this book i really want quinn and layla together. But i live bdb and i trust ward to give us another 5 star. With that being said i am looking forward to love at last! I cant wait!
What I really like about the BDB series is that there are story arcs for characters that continue through many if not all of the volumes. Was pleasantly surprised when I found out that we would be now revisiting Tohr's story, and like how Ward indicated that life after an (what seems like is an) imprinted mate dies is possible (although maybe not that believable). Would recommend for anyone who's looking for a thoughtful paranormal romance/world.
as with every other book in this series this one was great! I love how she builds up the suspense for the next books. and of course who wouldn't love a book who gives two great characters the happy ending they deserve. I also started reading her Falling Angels series and fell in love with it after the first book.
What can I say again JR puts out another page turner. I read the book when it was first released & just recently re-read the book. Anxiously awaiting her next book. Please JR never end this series.
Was one of her best. The past few were a little of an this brought her back to her game.
Amazing book! I didn't want it to end. I love the BDB and Tohr's story just breaks your heart. I cannot wait for the next book!