The Second Book Proves The Fantastical Charm In "A Court Of Mist And Fury"

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Title:  A Court Of Mist And Fury
Series: A Court Of Thorns And Roses #2
Author:  Sarah J. Maas
Length: 626 pages
Publisher:  Bloomsbury Children's Publishing USA
Rating:  5 Stars

 Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court—but at a steep cost. Though she now has the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can't forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin's people.

Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates its dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms—and she might be key to stopping it. But only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future—and the future of a world cleaved in two.

With more than a million copies sold of her beloved Throne of Glass series, Sarah J. Maas's masterful storytelling brings this second book in her seductive and action-packed series to new heights.

Please enjoy this exclusive excerpt of...
A Court Of Mist And Fury 
Sarah J. Maas

 A Court of Mist and Fury
By Sarah J. Maas
Immortal strength—more a curse than a gift. I’d dented and folded every piece of silverware I’d touched for three days upon returning here, had tripped over my longer, faster legs so often that Alis had removed any irreplaceable valuables from my rooms (she’d been particularly grumpy about me knocking over a table with an eight-hundred-year-old vase), and had shattered not one, not two, but five glass doors merely by accidentally closing them too hard.
Sighing through my nose, I unfolded my fingers.
My right hand was plain, smooth. Perfectly Fae.
I tilted my left hand over, the whorls of dark ink coating my fingers, my wrist, my forearm all the way to the elbow, soaking up the darkness of the room. The eye etched into the center of my palm seemed to watch me, calm and cunning as a cat, its slitted pupil wider than it’d been earlier that day. As if it adjusted to the light, as any ordinary eye would.
I scowled at it.
At whoever might be watching through that tattoo.
I hadn’t heard from Rhys in the three months I’d been here. Not a whisper. I hadn’t dared ask Tamlin, or Lucien, or anyone—lest it’d somehow summon the High Lord of the Night Court, somehow remind him of the fool’s bargain I’d struck Under the Mountain: one week with him every month in exchange for his saving me from the brink of death.
But even if Rhys had miraculously forgotten, I never could. Nor could Tamlin, Lucien, or anyone else. Not with the tattoo.
Even if Rhys, at the end . . . even if he hadn’t been exactly an enemy.
To Tamlin, yes. To every other court out there, yes. So few went over the borders of the Night Court and lived to tell. No one really knew what existed in the northernmost part of Prythian.
Mountains and darkness and stars and death.
But I hadn’t felt like Rhysand’s enemy the last time I’d spoken to him, in the hours after Amarantha’s defeat. I’d told no one about that meeting, what he’d said to me, what I’d confessed to him.
Be glad of your human heart, Feyre. Pity those who don’t feel anything at all.
I squeezed my fingers into a fist, blocking out that eye, the tattoo. I uncoiled to my feet, and flushed the toilet before padding to the sink to rinse out my mouth, then wash my face.
I wished I felt nothing.
I wished my human heart had been changed with the rest of me, made into immortal marble. Instead of the shredded bit of blackness that it now was, leaking its ichor into me.
Tamlin remained asleep as I crept back into my darkened bedroom, his naked body sprawled across the mattress. For a moment, I just admired the powerful muscles of his back, so lovingly traced by the moonlight, his golden hair, mussed with sleep and the fingers I’d run through it while we made love earlier.
For him, I had done this—for him, I’d gladly wrecked myself and my immortal soul.
And now I had eternity to live with it.
I continued to the bed, each step heavier, harder. The sheets were now cool and dry, and I slipped in, curling my back to him, wrapping my arms around myself. His breathing was deep—even. But with my Fae ears . . . sometimes I wondered if I heard his breath catch, only for a heartbeat. I never had the nerve to ask if he was awake.
He never woke when the nightmares dragged me from sleep; never woke when I vomited my guts up night after night. If he knew or heard, he said nothing about it.
I knew similar dreams chased him from his slumber as often as I fled from mine. The first time it had happened, I’d awoken—tried to speak to him. But he’d shaken off my touch, his skin clammy, and had shifted into that beast of fur and claws and horns and fangs. He’d spent the rest of the night sprawled across the foot of the bed, monitoring the door, the wall of windows.
He’d since spent many nights like that.
Curled in the bed, I pulled the blanket higher, craving its warmth against the chill night. It had become our unspoken agreement—not to let Amarantha win by acknowledging that she still tormented us in our dreams and waking hours.
It was easier to not have to explain, anyway. To not have to tell him that though I’d freed him, saved his people and all of Prythian from Amarantha . . . I’d broken myself apart.
And I didn’t think even eternity would be long enough to fix me.     .

My Thoughts

A Court Of Mist And Fury, the second installment of the A Court Of Thorns And Roses series offers readers the perfect continuation of Rysand and Feyre's stories.  After the trails of "under the mountain".
Yes, dear readers.
This is where the book gets good.
The gloves coming off, and Feyre very well and truly getting and learning to use her claws.
This is where Rhysand makes good on his promise to take Feyre to the Night Court for a week each month.
A place where she learns more about the fey that she has now become.
And she also comes to know the truth of both Rysand and Tamlin.

This is where the story gets good.
With Feyre leaving the staid, smothering, and secretive confines of the Spring Court.
For the danger, romance, and friendship of the Night Court, Rhysand, and The Inner Circle.
The story found here is one that builds upon itself.  Drawing the reader in as Feyre comes to know more of herself, her new world, her new powers, and the possibilities of new love.
Even as war and the destruction of all looms.

This is a true epic adventure.  Full of magic, friendship, love, adventure, blood, and war.
Full of characters rich in their own histories, motives, schemes, hurts, and redemptions.
All in compliment to the main story. As told by Feyre and Rhysand.  This book is also very much an adult read.  With passionate love scenes, violent bloodshed, and very complex emotional and psychological quandaries.
A true storyteller's story and a most spectacular progression of an unforgettable series.

About Sarah
Sarah J. MaasSarah J. Maas is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Throne of Glass series (Queen of Shadows, Book 4, will be out in September 2015), as well as the A Court of Thorns and Roses series (out 5/5/15).

Sarah lives in Bucks County, PA, and over the years, she has developed an unhealthy appreciation for Disney movies and bad pop music. She adores fairy tales and ballet, drinks too much tea, and watches an ungodly amount of TV. When she's not busy writing, she can be found exploring the historic and beautiful Pennsylvania countryside with her husband and canine companion.
See her socially:  Web / GR / Twitter / Instagram

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