Product Description

Alongside his hellhound brethren, Venge Leidolf was summoned to start the Wild Hunt anew. But in this dreaded pursuit of souls, Venge sought to free himself from his infernal bondage—by claiming the heart of a fierce Valkyrie.…

Geysa never questioned the alluring gifts that set her apart from the other Valkyries, or her hatred of hellhounds—until Venge fell under her spell. Drawing the alpha hellhound so close made Geysa doubt her every instinct. To stop the Hunt, the two blood-born enemies would need to cast aside old vows and allegiances. Only then could no one question the strength of their union….

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #73232 in Books
• Published on: 2008-06-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 288 pages

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The peal of a horn pierced into Venge Leidolf—stopping the breath he was about to take, freezing every movement but the beat of his heart. He felt himself being swept away, his human body still standing in the human world, but his hellhound spirit traveling…following the horn's call.

He landed somewhere dark. A biting wind howled around him and shoved against his fur. He padded forward. The scent of prey, sweat and blood filled him—a heady potion that urged him to run again, faster, until his feet left the ground and he flew through the clouds. Other hounds pressed against him, all hungry and driven to find whoever or whatever left the irresistible trail of adrenaline and fear they followed.

The noise stopped and the vision faded with it…releas-ing Venge. His gaze darted around the human-made street, searching for whomever…whatever manned the instrument, but the streets were empty. Venge pulled in a breath and waited. Waited for the call to sound again…for the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain to wrap around him, twist through his very soul. Waited because he had nothing else to do, nowhere else to go.

When it came, he was ready. This time the call was softer—less demand, more offer, a promise. Venge's heart beat faster; his nostrils flared. Come, run, hunt, be free… the horn whispered. The call licked at Venge, stoked his desire to give in, to follow. And with nothing to hold him, no reason to care whether he lived or died…he didn't resist; he shimmered.

Venge shook his head as the last few tingles of his shimmer faded. His muscles tensed and he tried to pinpoint where the peal of the horn had led him.

It was daylight. The sun beat against the back of his neck, but the air was cool, crisp and clean. Not that different from the air in the land of the elves where he'd spent the last few months.

Rocks rolled under his feet and he glanced down, realizing he was standing in the middle of a gravel road. Flanking both sides of the rough street were dilapidated, weathered buildings. Many of them barely managing to stay upright. Beyond the street and buildings stood a never-ending forest of tall pines.

He breathed in deeply, let his lungs fill with the scent of the evergreens. The invigorating mountain air lured him, causing him to take another breath. He'd never been this close to the wild. His early life was spent locked in a cage, or contained some other way. And since his escape, he'd been too busy searching for a way to increase his strength, traveling the nine worlds looking for a tool or training that would enable him to defeat his father.

The sound of water flowing over a streambed drew his attention away from his thoughts. He turned, planning on finding the source, but another sound interrupted his action.

The doors to one of the buildings he'd assumed were abandoned flew open and three men—hellhounds, he knew instinctively—tumbled out onto the dirt. Country music and yelling voices spilled after them.

His gaze shot to the front windows. Grime covered them so completely that any movement or sign of life within was blocked. As he watched, someone rubbed a hand over the grungy surface and peered out at the men still rolling around in the street.

His curiosity piqued, he took a step toward the building. The other hellhounds, caught up in their struggle, surged backward, knocking against Venge. One of them, a younger male with a clipped beard and an earring, grabbed Venge by the front of his shirt.

"Might as well head back home. There's already about ten too many for the hunt." The other hellhound tightened his grip on Venge's shirt and waited for a response.

Venge didn't bother to supply one.

Apparently taking Venge's silence as weakness, the other male's lips slid over his teeth, forming a grin. Shooting a sideways glance at his companions, he pulled his head back then jerked forward until his forehead collided with Venge's skull.

The crack of bone on bone echoed down the street.

A move hard to ignore—even for Venge.

Venge's lip worked upward into a snarl. He mimicked his attacker's posture by curling his fingers into the other male's shirt and pulling him closer—until Venge could smell the stale stench of beer on the hellhound's breath and see the tiny red lines that zigzagged across the whites of his eyes.

"Why don't I help you out by eliminating a few? But who?" Venge gave the insolent male a tiny shake as he glanced around. Looking back at the hellhound in his grip, he continued. "Oh, I know. I think I'll start with you." His eyes narrowing, Venge jerked the male toward him, letting his skull again whack against Venge's, but this time his opponent fell backward, only Venge's grip on his shirt keeping him from crumpling onto the dust.

Venge held him upright for another few seconds, long enough to murmur against his ear, "If you're going to take on an opponent, it's best to know you can beat them. They might just kill you otherwise. Or—" he glanced around "—discard you in the dirt, just for the fun of seeing you squirm." With that, he let the hellhound slip from his hands, until he was facedown on the gravel road. Without a backward glance, he stepped over his body and left the male to face whatever fate awaited him.

The other hellhounds let Venge pass, their muscles taut and their eyes assessing. He'd passed a test—not a planned one, but one if there were other hellhounds around he'd have to pass again and again. He'd grown up in the kennels. He knew better than most how to fight to survive. You either proved your dominance or got crushed into the dirt.

Only one hound had ever been successful in making Venge eat dirt—and it wouldn't happen again. Not while there was a breath left in Venge's body.

His eyes focused on the building in front of him, he strode forward.

The familiar smell of decades of alcohol spilled onto battered wood and the sound of bottles sliding across tabletops as patrons turned to size up the newest intruder assaulted Venge as he entered. He let their glances flow over him, his eyes returning their stares until, one by one, they dropped their own back to their drinks.

Bar patrons, he was as used to dealing with them as he was with handling his own rage. But…his gaze slid over the tables. These patrons were different. The normal scent of sadness and desperation was missing. Instead the place teemed with aggression, eagerness for something. For what the horn had promised, he guessed. And, even more unusual, the bar was filled with hellhounds.

Despite his best efforts to avoid such an event, Venge found himself surrounded by his own kind.

His brows lowering as he tried to figure out what all this meant, he strode to the bar. A woman possessing hair streaked with silver and a steely gaze stood behind it.

"You new?" she asked.

Not bothering to answer, Venge crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. One brow cocked, she met his scrutiny with a stare of her own.

"You drinking?" she added.

Not being able to peg the female unsettled Venge. He'd traveled to four of the nine worlds in the last five years and had come to know most of the inhabitants on sight. But this woman… He frowned. Despite the fact that she was behind the bar, a place he had come to associate with garm, she lacked the edge of wildness and scent of pine all garm possessed, and despite the fact the place was filled with hellhounds, she wasn't one of his kind, either. So, what was she? What other type of being would choose to serve a bar filled with hellhounds?

"If you're new, you'll need a place to stay. Best talk to Geysa." She jerked her head toward a door in the back.

"She's in the kitchen now, but she'll be out." With that, she turned her back on him and strode to the other end of the bar where the hellhounds he'd seen fighting outside had gathered.

A place to stay? Venge twisted his mouth to the side. He still didn't know why he was here—or even where here was. It was like some strange dream. Somehow he'd fallen down the rabbit hole and found himself in a twisted version of the human world's Old West. He wouldn't be shocked if the door the bartender had indicated flew open and the sheriff, six-guns blazing, barreled inside.

Instead the door edged open, then bumped wider as another woman carrying a tray laden with plates pushed against it with a curvaceous, denim-clad hip.

As he looked at her, Venge became aware of the earth spinning on its axis, but slowly. Every movement the woman made seemed emphasized, slowed down, just for his enjoyment. She tossed her head, flipping her waist-long hair out of her eyes and away from the steaming plates. A few stubborn strands of the flame-colored locks refused to move, instead choosing to cling to her lips. She frowned and pushed her tongue out of her mouth, trying to shove the recalcitrant strands away, but it was a wasted effort. The strands hung there, somehow drawing attention to the perfect bow of her upper lip and the impossible fullness of her lower.

With a sigh, she muttered something to herself and began maneuvering her way through the tables. Hellhound after hellhound stopped what he was doing and followed her with his gaze.

A surge in adrenaline and desire hit Venge like a boulder to the gut. She was almost next to him before he realized both were coming from him.

She brushed by him, barely giving him a glance, but he caught her scent—honey and spring. He inhaled, felt his nostrils flare, his eyes dilate.

He'd never wanted anyone or anything as badly as he wanted this woman. His feet shuffled forward, following her without his mind giving the movement a conscious thought. As he did, a hellhound at a nearby table surged to his feet, then another until all but a few were knocking over chairs and tables in an attempt to follow the red-haired siren.

"Geysa!" the woman from behind the bar yelled.

Geysa paused, her gray eyes flickering as she watched the males shove their way toward her. Her lips rounded into a perfect O, and the world picked up speed. The demanding des...

Customer Reviews

superb romantic fantasy
Hellhound Venge Leidolf knows the right time to start the wild hunt is now. He or his brethren cannot stop its call. Geysa the Valkyrie knows her gift of allure makes her different from her warrior sisters. She and Venge have in common a need to avenge a wrong.

When Venge and Geysa meet, they, in spite of being natural enemies, are attracted to one another. They know their species' instinct is to kill the other, but they desire one another. Each puts aside the thirst to kill to team up in search of the horn that proclaims the ErlKing's wild hunt to prevent it from calling the death, mayhem and destruction that automatically comes when it sounds.

The latest WILD HUNT saga (see UNBOUND and GUARDIAN'S KEEP) is a superb romantic fantasy in which star-crossed lovers either must kill the other as it's in their DNA imprint or let love lead them elsewhere. Venge and Geysa know they have quests to fulfill and that desire, attraction and that cursed L word are not convenient at this time and between their respective heritages at any time. Fans will relish this entry while newcomers will quickly become devotees of this excellent fantasist.

Harriet Klausner

Unlikely love between paranormal rivals
Geysa Brynhilde, one of the Valkyries, lost her mother to the Wild Hunt, a mob of spectral hellhounds summoned by the Erl-King. Now that the Erl-King's horn has gone missing, she is determined to find it and prevent the Hunt from ever rising again. At the same time, Venge Leidolf, son of Risk Leidolf, the hellhound hero of Unbound (Intrigue), is in search of the horn as well, to summon the Hunt and take control of it in order to destroy his father for abandoning his mother. As the two meet in a ghost town on the fringe of the human world, they form an unlikely alliance in their quest for the same object, an alliance that soon becomes attraction and then love. But can love be possible between beings who have for so long been enemies, and can their love survive Venge's quest for revenge?

This third book in the series is stronger than the ones that went before it: there's fewer instances of awkward sentences and odd vocabulary, and one logic hole from the first book has been neatly patched. The world-building continues to fascinate and amaze me; every new twist and concept Lori Devoti brings to this interesting upgrade on Norse mythology makes you want to linger in this strange and mysterious world she has made so real for her readers!

Great paranormal read!
Lori Devoti's Wild Hunt was a fantastic read! I read the first one in the series, Unbound and it was good too. This one is even better! I really liked how the hero took to the heroine immediately. Great chemistry between them! I really liked the hero, Venge! This is a different paranormal read because it doesn't star vampires and werewolves, it stars hellhounds. It is a very refreshing paranormal romance read! 5 stars!