"In this third installment in Michaela August's most excellent The House of the Rose historical fantasy series, once again the author weaves complex plots and extended casts of characters into a tale which will capture the reader's attention as if Scherezade spun the tale. This is a definite page-turner, and the reader will come away with a great respect for the author and an excellent background in Saracen and Crusader history. Although Broken Gods may be read on its own as a stand-alone novel, this reviewer recommends reading the entire series."--Annie, eCataRomance Reviews, Sensuality rating, sensuous, 5 STARS
"The talented author Michaela August creates a world of characters rich in variation and motives for their actions, a grouping to include rebellious and caring types, proving that vampires can have emotions and thoughts beyond the drinking of blood. For the reader who wants something more than a rehashed tale of Dracula, I'm pleased to recommend this book as one written outside the outlines of 'what we know' to bring something fresh to the realm of vampire tales."--Anne K. Edwards
Kobegun grunted in rage and closed his hand of air, squeezing it tighter and tighter until he felt a burning that matched the hatred in his heart. He smashed his fist of air into the pile of dry straw gathered for the exercise. It burst into flame. He jumped back, terrified and elated at the same time. I did that!
"Good," said Gold-hair. "Now this is how you put it out." He brought his aura-wing down flat over the flames, and the fire went out.
"You want me to do what?"
"If you make it, you have to know how to unmake it. If you want to destroy something, you'd better know how to create it. Or how will you make things right if you've made a mistake?"
Kobegun just looked at him, uncomprehending. Fix a mistake? No Mongol prince ever admitted to making mistakes.
Gold-hair patiently pointed to another pile of straw. "This time I'll light it and you put it out." He suited deed to speech.
Kobegun did not want to put his wing into the fire.
"It's really simple," Gold-hair urged. "You make your wing solid, and just slap."
No, no, no. Kobegun wanted nothing to do with it. But he didn't resist when Gold-hair took hold of his wing and slapped it down over the fire. He felt the burn, and then the fire was dead. The awful sensation of mingled auras continued, however.
"You have to make your wing semi-solid, remember?" Gold-hair was saying.
Kobegun aimed a solid stiletto-shaped dagger of air directly into Gold-hair's eye. He was going to scramble some brains in that gold-maned head--
The pressure of Gold-hair's aura immobilized him, yet again.
"You will do what I say," Gold-hair's voice was very quiet. "Your probation isn't over for six months. If you fail that probation..."
Kobegun jerked away, and Gold-hair let him go. "I didn't mean--"
"Don't lie to me. You can't, anyway."
Kobegun felt shame burning him as though he were the pile of straw Gold-hair had ignited. To be known, so truly known, and seen ... He looked back at Gold-hair, not bothering to conceal his hate. "You compel me now," he warned. "But just watch your back. You won't always be able to--"
"If you will not willingly serve the House, and promise to protect it, you will be destroyed. Don't try to fool yourself that it won't come to that. Or that you'll win. I am not the only Apkallu, and you have not yet met the eldest and greatest of us."
Kobegun's skin crawled at the thought of a power that could cow Gold-hair. He resolved to save his life for today. What good was immortality if it only lasted half a moon? "I promised," he said. "You just made me angry."
"You've promised privately, to me. You'll promise the people of the House at your Appointing, and keep your promises. Or you'll die, and be Forgotten."