Product Description

Once there were great magicians born to the Maghuin Dhonn; the folk of the Brown Bear, the oldest tribe in Alba. But generations ago, the greatest of them all broke a sacred oath sworn in the name of all his people. Now, only small gifts remain to them. Through her lineage, Moirin possesses such gifts - the ability to summon the twilight and conceal herself, and the skill to coax plants to grow.

Moirin has a secret, too. From childhood onward, she senses the presence of unfamiliar gods in her life; the bright lady, and the man with a seedling cupped in his palm. Raised in the wilderness by her reclusive mother, it isn't until she comes of age that Moirin learns how illustrious, if mixed, her heritage is. The great granddaughter of Alais the Wise, child of the Maghuin Donn, and a cousin of the Cruarch of Alba, Moirin learns her father was a D'Angeline priest dedicated to serving Naamah, goddess of desire.

After Moirin undergoes the rites of adulthood, she finds divine acceptance...on the condition that she fulfill an unknown destiny that lies somewhere beyond the ocean. Or perhaps oceans. Beyond Terre d'Ange where she finds her father, in the far reaches of distant Ch'in, Moirin's skills are a true gift when facing the vengeful plans of an ambitious mage, a noble warrior princess desperate to save her father's throne, and the spirit of a celestial dragon.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #17742 in Books
• Published on: 2009-06-24
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 656 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9780446198035
• Condition: NEW
• Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
• Click here to view our Condition Guide and Shipping Prices

From Publishers Weekly
The seventh installment in Carey's bestselling Kushiel series (after 2008's Kushiel's Mercy) follows its youthful protagonist, Moirim, from bed to bed as she worships sexuality goddess Naamah. Following a tragic affair, Moirim travels to Terre d'Ange, this world's France. There she takes a variety of lovers, from the aristocratic occultist Raphael de Mereliot to Queen Jehanne herself. The elderly but wise Lo Feng befriends Moirim and leads her to the distant land of Ch'in and the true love of her life, the gruff but affectionate ex-bandit Bao. Moirim and her friends endeavor to save the Ch'in emperor's daughter Snow Tiger from a curse, but their efforts come at terrible costs, not least of which is the certainty of multiple sequels. Carey's triumph as a writer lies in her ability to turn these stock—nearly stereotyped—components into an engaging, fascinating novel. (July)
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Review
"[A]nother stunner...A multilayered plot and Imriel's complex inner life as he struggles with pain and loss...hook the reader but good." (Booklist on Kushiel's Justice (starred review) )

"Carey has wowed us...leaving faithful readers feeling both deliciously sated and hungry for more from her." (Booklist on Kushiel's Mercy (starred review) )

"Unforgettable characters who live out their lives, whether blessed or cursed by the gods, against a background of high passion, complex intrigues, and subtle magic." (Library Journal on Kushiel's Mercy (starred review) )

"Intelligent, sexy, heartbreakingly human, Carey at her intoxicating best." (Booklist on Kushiel's Scion (starred review) )

About the Author
Jacqueline Carey's previous publications include various short stories, essays, a nonfiction book Angels: Celestial Spirits in Legend and Art, as well as the nationally bestselling series Kushiel's Legacy.


http://www.jacquelinecarey.com/

Customer Reviews

A return to a familiar, lush universe, with a fresh new heroine!
In _Naamah's Kiss_, Jacqueline Carey returns to the world she created in the Kushiel's Legacy series, and introduces a delightful new heroine.

Moirin mac Fainche is a descendant of Alais de la Courcel and a member of the Maghuin Dhonn tribe of Alba. On her father's side, she's D'Angeline, with lines of descent from Naamah and Anael. When a tragedy changes Moirin's young life, and an initiatory rite reveals that she has a destiny beyond the sea, Moirin travels to Terre d'Ange in search of her father. There, she's treated as an exotic novelty.

In no time at all, she's over her head in a web of intrigue, with only her courage, her wits, and her deep-seated beliefs to protect her. The publisher's blurb mentions that she travels to Ch'in, so I won't consider that a spoiler; eventually she does go to Ch'in and becomes involved in a knotty situation there as well. The plot is complex, and while at first there seems to be little connection between Moirin's adventures in Terre d'Ange and her adventures in Ch'in, it turns out that the things she learns and gains in Terre d'Ange are crucial in dealing with what comes later.

As is usual for the first book in a Carey trilogy, the major plotline of _Naamah's Kiss_ is resolved by book's end, and several other plotlines remain open for exploration in the next two installments.

To me, one of the best things about _Naamah's Kiss_ is that Moirin's voice is so clear. Many authors seem to write the same character over and over. Carey doesn't. I never felt like I was reading Phedre's voice, or Imriel's. Moirin doesn't have Phedre's silken manners, or Imriel's Byronic angst, and she's sharp-tongued in a way that the other two are not. Her attitude toward sex is different, too. Phedre's sexual adventures are often a means to an end; Imriel's are often fraught with emotional turmoil. When Moirin goes to bed with someone, it's for the sheer joy of it. (I should mention that there's a lot of sex in _Naamah's Kiss_, but if you're bothered by that, you probably haven't followed the series this far.)

Perhaps most interestingly, Moirin provides a more critical view of D'Angeline society. Phedre had a bone-deep love of it, but Moirin sees the contrast between what Terre d'Ange should be (a kingdom based on love) and what it is: often frivolous, often xenophobic, often over-concerned with wealth and titles. Side note: There's talk of an expedition to "Terra Nova," and I'm interested to see how Carey handles the issue of colonialism. I can see it being similar in some ways to what happened in our world, and different in others.

I highly recommend _Naamah's Kiss_ to anyone who enjoyed the Kushiel books, and to anyone who was tempted to try them but put off by the BDSM (Moirin is sexually active, but her tastes don't run to whips and chains). Carey's prose is as lush and sensual as ever, and Moirin is a wonderful heroine.

I did NOT want to have to write this...
It breaks my heart to write this, but this book just isn't very good.

(SPOILERS AHEAD.)

Jacqueline Carey's been my favorite author since I first read Kushiel's Dart in January 2002. That book caught me from the first paragraph, and I read the first chapter right there in the bookstore, before buying it. If you're reading this, you probably know what an experience falling in love with that book--that world--was for me. There were some less-convincing characters, and some less-riveting passages, but for three epic novels, the quality level was kept remarkably high throughout.

The fundamentally wonderful thing about Kushiel's Dart was how dense it was, how much beauty and intrigue and meaning was packed into each page, into each plot development. The last two books of the first series were slightly less dense, but made up for it with rich action.

The Imriel series was more difficult to love. The characters were, for the most part, still 3d and believable, Imri's inner personality was fully realized, and his interactions with those around him followed an emotional logic. But the first two books' plots were pretty thin, and could have been condensed into one. Carey bulked them out with too many placeholder characters, too many pointless dead-end activities (why DID he go to Rome, anyway?), and too many ideas not fully realized (that secret society sure was a dud).

Worst of all, the pivotal plot point--that Imri turns his back on love to pursue duty, with disastrous results--always felt forced, like the author was making a character do something unnatural for the sake of her plot. That's bad enough when it's a brief episode...but it was the bulk of the second novel. As a result of that psychological forcing, the book dragged a lot, as you followed him through what you knew the WHOLE TIME was the wrong decision and its foreshadowed consequences. Only in the third Imriel book do we really get back to the high adventure and clockwork pace that defined the first trilogy from the start.

The Imriel series' quality suffered due to this feeling of filler and incredibly slow pace in the first two novels. But Carey picked it back up in the third, and that series overall left a good taste in my mouth. However, you can sell books by writing decent trilogies, but to be a good author, your novels themselves need reread value. Two of that series three books don't really have it.

Which brings us to Naamah's Kiss. This novel not only doesn't stand on its own (which is STILL the best criteria of a good trilogy-opener), it arguably wouldn't have been published at all, were it a first novel by an unknown author.

Moirin is dull. Her mother is dull. Her first lover is dull, and so is his family. Carey tried to write the story of a naive, uncivilized girl, but missed the mark on actual innocence, substituting vagueness and exploitability. I know, not everybody can be a Delaunay-trained genius, or even a conflicted quasi-Shahrizai. But Moirin took subjectivity, unreliability, and naivete to an almost Faulknerian level. And that's as close as Naamah's Kiss came to literature.

There are a handful of beautiful passages and concepts here--Moirin's initiation, her developing relationship with her father, and the scenes where we begin to understand, and then meet, the dragon. The passages with her father are moving, and I appreciated the theme where she comes to terms with having a D'Angeline heritage and gift, as well as the Alban one she's loyal to. Exploring Moirin's multi-ethnicity, and the interactions of her two gifts through her young adulthood--not to mention the changes in Alba and Terre D'Ange in the new century--these would have been enough for a whole book.

But the author who rote the densely-packed Kushiel's Dart is long gone. Carey takes enough plot points for the first quarter of a Phedre story, and spreads them over the whole novel. Now, I don't want to read another Phedre story. I want to read a densely-packed Moirin story...and Moirin's story is the thinnest Carey's ever put to print.

So much could still have been done with the Alban part of the book, the culture and rites, the tension of the different ethnic groups--that's where Moirin shines, in the beginning. The initiation rite itself was beautiful, pure Carey. But it only serves to highlight the flatness of the rest of the tale. Instead, Carey reaches for what's become a worn-thin plot contrivance: send the character to another country. It's become less a metaphor for her characters' growth, and more of a substitute for it. It feels like Moirin is, as Imri unfortunately sometimes was, less of her own person and more of a tool of the author, setting up plot points for later books at the expense of interest and density in the present one. It felt like the author preparing to stretch a little bit of story a long way.

Second big problem in this book: Terre D'Ange has become an aggravating place. I can't think of one single likeable character in the whole City of Elua. The closest I came to relating to them was a brief twinge of compassion when a couple of them (temporarily) acted stable and humane. The ones that weren't tediously loco were savior-perfect. All those admirable, unique characters populating the first two series? Nothing like that here. All those villains you loved to hate, and the deliciously ambivalent ones? Nowhere to be found. Moirin's friends at the Palace (of course) are abrasive, self-absorbed nuts, and her enemies are simply petty and selfish. In fact, there's a pretty fair overlap of her friends and enemies. This doesn't make for intrigue. It just makes Moirin look unintelligent.

Carey had an amazing opportunity to display a place familiar to her readers--Terre D'Ange and the City of Elua--through fresh eyes, even critical eyes. Instead, she has Moirin get accustomed rather fast, embroiling her in a fairly shrill and petty Palace clique. After a time, the only differentiation Moirin has is her ability to be exploited, and repetitive references to her spiritual practice and healing ability.

Which leads me to one of my biggest problems with the novel: the Asian characters. Frankly, I got tired of the "Me Chinese" way Carey made them talk, as well as the gamut of Asian stereotypes they ran. I mean, seriously? Wise old meditation-teaching herbal scholar, with his mysterious young warrior-acolyte? Just no. I absolutely couldn't believe the love interest was Bao. He's easily the least-desireable character Carey's ever written, and that includes Waldemar Selig.

Bao's a cypher. He's rude. His big draw is that he apparently smells like metal. Another critic was right--he's the poor man's Joscelin. There is no chemistry whatsoever between him and Moirin. Their union was a dismaying surprise--not in the wonderful Phedre-Joscelin way, more an upsetting "Carey doesn't seriously expect me to buy this" sort of way. Bao's all set up to be the big soulmate, Moirin's MacGuffin for the next book...and their relationship is just flat absurd.

Sexuality in Carey's first trilogy was a deeply meaningful, spiritual act--not only did plot points hinge on it, but so did philosophical ideas. I'm sure a lot of us fans fell in love with this story in part because of the boundary-pushing, yet beautiful portrayal of sex and love. In the second series, we are treated to Imriel's growth out of sexual abuse and into the conflict between duty and following his passion. I think that's what makes me feel most burned of all about Moirin's story. The sex here is just this side of meaningless and random. It's like Carey's heart's just not in that aspect of her writing anymore. I agree with another reader that some of the sex here verges on cheesy. Moirin doesn't have any believable chemistry with anyone she sleeps with; the closest she comes to that is early teenage hormones. The "gift of desire" of Naamah, part of Moirin's heritage, goes quickly from an intriguing concept into a belabored plot device, steering Moirin here and there. If it was used to move the plot forward, I could even understand that; but none of Moirin's relationships seem to matter much to the plot at all. In addition, Moirin is abused by two of her lovers, and it is barely acknowledged. How is that reflective of Elua's will? If Carey wanted to portray D'Angeline society as unwell, that should have been a major theme of the book...not something touched-on and excused.

It all just felt like Carey's publishing too often--biting off big undigested chunks of ideas, set up and then quickly abandoned; interspersed with long, drawn-out passages that go nowhere, filled with decisions you want to shake the characters for making. I don't want her to write the same story over again, that's not why I'm sad. I just want her to keep working on a book until it's at the level of quality we all know she can reach.

I know people who love JC will think I'm not a fan, and hate on my review. But honestly, who out there will calim this is as good as Kushiel's Dart, or even Kushiel's Mercy? If those were five-star books, then this can't be.

I hate to criticize my favorite author. I am sure that Carey will get the story told and that it will be worth reading. But after years of excitedly buying her books the day they arrived, I'll be checking the next one out of the library first.

A triumphant return to the world of Kushiel's Legacy
As an avid fan of Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel series, I preordered Namaah's Kiss months ago. And when it arrived in the mail, I joyfully devoured it in record time. As always, Carey's writing is superb, beautiful and lush, heady and intoxicating like rich red wine.

In her previous novels, Carey has lovingly crafted a wondrous and beautiful world, a mythic allegory of our own, both strange but immediately familiar. It was a joy to revisit these now familiar places, Alba and Terre d'Ange (and new places like Ch'in!), but this time through new eyes. As one of the Maghuin Dhonn, Moirin is a child of the woods and wild places, untutored in d'Angeline ways. This lends the book a delightful new perspective as young Moirin learns of her d'Angeline heritage and the gifts of Namaah.

I could not help but feel a little bit sad while reading the book. It takes place several generations after the Kushiel series and like the first reviewer, I missed Phedre and Joscelin, Imriel and Sidonie and all the others. We do get tantalizing morsels, enough to leave me happy knowing our old friends lived well. And I have no doubt, that in the Terre d'Ange that lies beyond, they stand smiling as they watch our new heroine fulfill her destiny.

For those new to Carey, I would suggest starting with the first in the series, Kushiel's Dart. For any longstanding fans, buy this book and curl up with a glass of wine and enjoy. She is not Phedre nor Imri but Moirin mine is a worthy successor and I look forward to following her adventures for years to come.