Fans of the paranormal, as well as the m/m genre, will find this an intriguing and steamy read with many erotic scenes. Keep reading to get a tantalizing taste of Prince of Tricks by Jane Kindred along with my impressions of it. Make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win some truly amazing gifts like a caviar gift pack, a $150 GC, and 10-$10 bookstore GCs too!
Over the past century, Belphagor has made a name for himself in Heaven’s Demon District as a cardsharp, thief, and charming rogue.
Though the airspirit is content with his own company, he enjoys applying the sweet sting of discipline to a willing backside. Angel, demon, even the occasional human. He’s not particular. Until a hotheaded young firespirit steals his purse—and his heart. Now he’s not sure who owns whom.
A former rent boy and cutpurse from the streets of Raqia, Vasily has never felt safer than in the arms—and at the feet—of the Prince of Tricks. He’s just not sure if Belphagor returns those feelings. There’s only one way to find out, but using a handsome, angelic duke to stir Belphagor’s jealousy backfires on them both.
When the duke frames Vasily for an attempted assassination as part of a revolutionary conspiracy, Belphagor will do whatever it takes to clear his boy’s name and expose the real traitor. Because for the first time in his life, the Prince of Tricks has something to lose.
A former rent boy and cutpurse from the streets of Raqia, Vasily has never felt safer than in the arms—and at the feet—of the Prince of Tricks. He’s just not sure if Belphagor returns those feelings. There’s only one way to find out, but using a handsome, angelic duke to stir Belphagor’s jealousy backfires on them both.
When the duke frames Vasily for an attempted assassination as part of a revolutionary conspiracy, Belphagor will do whatever it takes to clear his boy’s name and expose the real traitor. Because for the first time in his life, the Prince of Tricks has something to lose.
EXCERPT:
Belphagor pushed him onto his back and straddled him, his own unfulfilled erection poised between them like an exclamation point. “I told you, you’re my boy. Mine.” There was an implication in the words that Vasily couldn’t miss. The firespirit had been earning his bed and his supper on the streets of Raqia since the word “boy” had been applied to him more literally, likely from an even earlier age than had Belphagor himself. When Vasily had come to him after the night Belphagor caught him trying to cut his purse, he’d attempted to continue with his street business as usual until Belphagor forbade him selling himself to angels or to rough trade demons. He wouldn’t stop Vasily bartering his favors if that was what he chose to do, but he would see to it he was treated as the valuable commodity he was if he insisted on continuing in the trade.
This hadn’t sat well with a firespirit just coming into his prime. Angels in particular desired him, finding his rough looks and the wild coloring of his tangled hair the epitome of what they pictured as demonic. Mostly students out on their own for the first time with purses of crystal facets to burn, they wanted the quintessential Raqia experience. They crossed Elysium’s River Acheron to slum in Heaven’s Demon District, and in their eyes, Vasily was as low-rent as they could get. Which was all the more reason they were to keep their filthy angelic paws off Belphagor’s boy.
A red glimmer of flame threatened in the black depths of Vasily’s pupils, giving the hazel irises an amber cast. This evidence of his defiant anger, despite the fact that Belphagor had finally given him what he wanted—or broken down and caved to his charms, more like—was a Pavlovian bell to Belphagor’s hunger for him. It had nearly driven him mad to keep Vasily at arm’s length this long, telling himself he didn’t deserve him, that Vasily couldn’t possibly want him—the Vasily in his head still the same skinny cutpurse youth he’d first encountered, though his “boy” had long been nothing of the sort. Even now, his heart fluttered like a panicked bird caged in his chest, waiting for something terrible to happen, for Vasily to realize Belphagor wasn’t as young as he appeared and to ridicule the helpless state to which he’d reduced him—hopelessly enamored of another demon after the equivalent of a human lifetime of solitude.
For Belphagor, solitude had been his strength. He hadn’t needed anyone since the earliest betrayals of youthful love. But Vasily had brought him to his knees. Never mind that it was Vasily on his knees that had done it to him.
“What’s got your fire up, malchik?” He kissed the spot he’d cleaned with his tongue beneath Vasily’s Adam’s apple. “I thought you wanted to be mine.”
“I hate it when you treat me like a child.”
Belphagor raised an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain I treated you as rather the opposite last night. Was it not satisfactory?”
The natural pink of Vasily’s cheeks reddened more obviously. “Of course it was. I mean, it was more than satisfactory. Way more. Dammit, Beli.” He crooked his arm over his eyes as if looking up into Belphagor’s embarrassed him during such talk. He was utterly charming. As was the little endearment that had just slipped out, though Belphagor might have decked another demon for it.
He kissed Vasily’s sullen mouth. “It was far more than satisfactory for me.” The soft words were almost a whisper. “You’ve absolutely spoiled me for anyone else.”
“Good.” The word was delivered with a sudden sharpness. So that was what was bothering him. It sparked a bit of defiance of his own. He wasn’t used to having anyone put restraints on him. That was Belphagor’s specialty.
“Don’t seek to possess me, malchik. I’m an airspirit.”
Vasily moved his arm away from his eyes, and they were glowing with furious heat. “So that’s how it is. You own me, you tell me what I can and can’t do, but you can do as you like.” The roiling anger in the firespirit eyes heated Belphagor like combustion from the inside out. The thought of putting Vasily over his knee once more made him almost painfully hard. Without equivocation, he was a slave to this brutally beautiful young demon.
“Yes, Vasya. That’s how it is.”
The violent rebuff wasn’t unexpected, but Belphagor, nonetheless, had failed to brace for it, too absorbed in the feel of the body beneath him and the thoughts of what he wished to do with it. He found himself forcefully ejected from the cot and sprawled on the cold wooden floor, with Vasily standing over him, magnificent in his literally naked anger.
“Then maybe you should just skip the foreplay and go fuck yourself!” Vasily delivered the Germanic hardness of the lovely verb “fuck” as if he were demonstrating it. As Vasily jerked his jeans onto his legs like he was punishing the fabric, Belphagor watched with unabashed admiration of the musculature being regretfully hidden away. Hooray at least for his lazy laundering habits that had resulted in this morning’s “commando” mode.
He picked himself up, along with the black T-shirt on the floor beside him, which he handed to Vasily as if he couldn’t care less whether the demon walked out on him. Vasily snatched it from his grip and yanked it on over the tangled red locks he’d been cultivating. The shirt had once been Belphagor’s. It had stretched to its limits and was now much too small on the firespirit frame. Belphagor wished there were cameras in Heaven. He could just about die from gazing at the image Vasily struck.
Vasily was waiting for him to apologize or take back what he’d said, to placate him into staying. He had no intention of doing so. Vasily was his. It was an indisputable fact. He’d be back.
The younger demon turned and yanked open the rickety door in danger of coming right off the hinges at his grip, cast one last furious, fiery glare in Belphagor’s direction, and left him with a fierce slam. The bottom hinge bent.
Belphagor glanced down at his relentless and unameliorated state of arousal with a sigh of resignation. His masochistic streak might be at an all-time high.
This hadn’t sat well with a firespirit just coming into his prime. Angels in particular desired him, finding his rough looks and the wild coloring of his tangled hair the epitome of what they pictured as demonic. Mostly students out on their own for the first time with purses of crystal facets to burn, they wanted the quintessential Raqia experience. They crossed Elysium’s River Acheron to slum in Heaven’s Demon District, and in their eyes, Vasily was as low-rent as they could get. Which was all the more reason they were to keep their filthy angelic paws off Belphagor’s boy.
A red glimmer of flame threatened in the black depths of Vasily’s pupils, giving the hazel irises an amber cast. This evidence of his defiant anger, despite the fact that Belphagor had finally given him what he wanted—or broken down and caved to his charms, more like—was a Pavlovian bell to Belphagor’s hunger for him. It had nearly driven him mad to keep Vasily at arm’s length this long, telling himself he didn’t deserve him, that Vasily couldn’t possibly want him—the Vasily in his head still the same skinny cutpurse youth he’d first encountered, though his “boy” had long been nothing of the sort. Even now, his heart fluttered like a panicked bird caged in his chest, waiting for something terrible to happen, for Vasily to realize Belphagor wasn’t as young as he appeared and to ridicule the helpless state to which he’d reduced him—hopelessly enamored of another demon after the equivalent of a human lifetime of solitude.
For Belphagor, solitude had been his strength. He hadn’t needed anyone since the earliest betrayals of youthful love. But Vasily had brought him to his knees. Never mind that it was Vasily on his knees that had done it to him.
“What’s got your fire up, malchik?” He kissed the spot he’d cleaned with his tongue beneath Vasily’s Adam’s apple. “I thought you wanted to be mine.”
“I hate it when you treat me like a child.”
Belphagor raised an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain I treated you as rather the opposite last night. Was it not satisfactory?”
The natural pink of Vasily’s cheeks reddened more obviously. “Of course it was. I mean, it was more than satisfactory. Way more. Dammit, Beli.” He crooked his arm over his eyes as if looking up into Belphagor’s embarrassed him during such talk. He was utterly charming. As was the little endearment that had just slipped out, though Belphagor might have decked another demon for it.
He kissed Vasily’s sullen mouth. “It was far more than satisfactory for me.” The soft words were almost a whisper. “You’ve absolutely spoiled me for anyone else.”
“Good.” The word was delivered with a sudden sharpness. So that was what was bothering him. It sparked a bit of defiance of his own. He wasn’t used to having anyone put restraints on him. That was Belphagor’s specialty.
“Don’t seek to possess me, malchik. I’m an airspirit.”
Vasily moved his arm away from his eyes, and they were glowing with furious heat. “So that’s how it is. You own me, you tell me what I can and can’t do, but you can do as you like.” The roiling anger in the firespirit eyes heated Belphagor like combustion from the inside out. The thought of putting Vasily over his knee once more made him almost painfully hard. Without equivocation, he was a slave to this brutally beautiful young demon.
“Yes, Vasya. That’s how it is.”
The violent rebuff wasn’t unexpected, but Belphagor, nonetheless, had failed to brace for it, too absorbed in the feel of the body beneath him and the thoughts of what he wished to do with it. He found himself forcefully ejected from the cot and sprawled on the cold wooden floor, with Vasily standing over him, magnificent in his literally naked anger.
“Then maybe you should just skip the foreplay and go fuck yourself!” Vasily delivered the Germanic hardness of the lovely verb “fuck” as if he were demonstrating it. As Vasily jerked his jeans onto his legs like he was punishing the fabric, Belphagor watched with unabashed admiration of the musculature being regretfully hidden away. Hooray at least for his lazy laundering habits that had resulted in this morning’s “commando” mode.
He picked himself up, along with the black T-shirt on the floor beside him, which he handed to Vasily as if he couldn’t care less whether the demon walked out on him. Vasily snatched it from his grip and yanked it on over the tangled red locks he’d been cultivating. The shirt had once been Belphagor’s. It had stretched to its limits and was now much too small on the firespirit frame. Belphagor wished there were cameras in Heaven. He could just about die from gazing at the image Vasily struck.
Vasily was waiting for him to apologize or take back what he’d said, to placate him into staying. He had no intention of doing so. Vasily was his. It was an indisputable fact. He’d be back.
The younger demon turned and yanked open the rickety door in danger of coming right off the hinges at his grip, cast one last furious, fiery glare in Belphagor’s direction, and left him with a fierce slam. The bottom hinge bent.
Belphagor glanced down at his relentless and unameliorated state of arousal with a sigh of resignation. His masochistic streak might be at an all-time high.
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MY IMPRESSIONS OF THIS BOOK:
Thanks to Jane Kindred I'll never picture Heaven the same way again in this cleverly crafted and highly sexualized first book in the Demons of Elysuim series. From start to finish readers are taken on an unexpected and unique journey into the world of demons, fallen angels, and a political plan to create chaos that unwittingly forces the arrogant and sexy Beli to become embroiled in after his young lover Vasy is accused of the crime. From this decadent and gritty view of Heaven to the perceived safety of a parallel Russia here on Earth, Beli and Vasy race to stay one step ahead of the real criminals while Beli uses his unique abilities to gain the help he needs, especially from the Heavenly guard Phaleg, in clearing Vasy's name.
Beli's youth was one of living on the edge doing whatever necessary to stay alive. It's made him smart in maneuvering through the different levels of society but it's left him a bit jaded too. He's considered a master of thievery, gambling, and sex but deep down it's also made him leery of love. Vasy is sweet and naive at times, which leads him into trouble, but his kind heart and playfulness bring out a softer side to Beli. Vasy doesn't ever seem to learn from his mistakes so it's a good thing he has Beli looking out for him. For so long he fought the love and affection Vasy was offering him as he saw it as a weakness but when he finally does claim him it leads to unexpected events. Beli then has to use all of his strengths to save the young man he's just starting to care for which leads readers on a super sexy journey from one demon to another and, in a very unexpected twist, shows what it's like to be a woman in a world where they have the least power.
Ms. Kindred has created an entertaining roller coaster ride full of all sorts of naughty sex. Here Heaven is an adult's playground, like Las Vegas, a bit gritty and rough around the edges. There's different classes of demons and angels who are constantly fighting to be on top. This world is vividly depicted and grabs your attention from the very start. In contrast is the Russian parallel world which is just as corrupt and dangerous and puts the Russian words Beli's always speaking with Vasy to good use. From one world to another you're constantly on the edge of your seat waiting for the next unexpected thing to happen and Ms. Kindred doesn't disappoint. Another area that didn't disappoint was the sexual interludes where readers witnessed m/m, threesomes, menages, and a bit of f/f, though these scenes did take over the story at times. Sex was seen as a commodity, as entertainment, as well as for genuine affection. Throughout it all Beli was the master, always knowing what others wanted and needed as he blazed a sexual path to get the info he needed to save Vasy. Those who don't like their main couples with others though might be turned off by this but it slowly becomes clear that his time with Vasy is more meaningful than time spent with others. With their sweet and heartfelt concluding scenes this is especially apparent.
With its vivid world building, steamy sexual interludes, and compelling main character of Beli this becomes an unforgettable read and an exciting start to what promises to be a unique and entertaining series. Though I never felt a strong connection to Vasy as he always seemed to be in Beli's shadow, the character of Phaleg and his steamy scenes with Beli left a lasting impression with me and I look forward to his story being told soon. Those looking for a very different kind of paranormal series, one with lots of sweat-inducing scenes, will want to add the Demons of Elysium to their library!
*I received this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.
Jane Kindred is the author of The House of Arkhangel’sk trilogy, the Demons of Elysiumseries, and The Devil’s Garden. Born in Billings, Montana, she spent her formative years ruining her eyes reading romance novels in the Tucson sun and watching Star Trek marathons in the dark. She now writes to the sound of San Francisco foghorns while two cats slowly but surely edge her off the side of the bed.
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