Wednesday, February 26, 2014


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Title: Firestorm
Author: Rory Ni Coileain
Release Date: February 28, 2014
Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance
Rian Sheridan is a foundling, a Northern Irish Catholic corner boy whose world was destroyed in fire, and reborn the same way, beside an Orangemen’s bonfire last July the Twelfth. A consuming, dimly-remembered pain in his past calls to him, taunting him, daring him to find it and lose himself to it in the S&M underground of Belfast. Cuinn an Dearmad is the last surviving Fae Loremaster, and he’s just seen the beginning of the death of the Realm, the haven of the Fae race. The only hope of stopping it starts with him finding the Prince Royal of Fire he stole from the cradle, and lost in the human world, many years ago. He has a few guesses about where that hope ends, and he doesn’t like any of them. Rian and Cuinn are an impossible pairing, two SoulShared Fae. Any two Fae will strike sparks, but these two Fae are a conflagration. Unable to stand one another, yet drawn into an escalating series of sexual collisions, their passion will either save a world or destroy it.
I was given this book by author for honest review. Cuinn kidnapped the Royal Fae Prince and left him loose to be raised in the human realm. Years later he finds him after powers manifest to ask for help to save Fae realm. Interesting take on the whole fairy genre. M/M bonding soulsharingly intense. 
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Shite. Apparently thinking of the male was enough to make him appear. Although, to be honest, if that were the case, Cuinn would have been here several hours and a dozen small fires ago. “I don’t suppose you’d feck off if I asked.” The answering silence went on for so long that Rian finally hauled the pillow off and turned his head toward the voice. Oh, Jaysus. Never had he seen a man so beautiful; the sight stopped his heart. Beauty had never been a concern of his, only what a man was willing to do to him, to bring him closer to what he needed. But there was little of desire in the way the Fae looked at him. Nothing like what he’d grown accustomed to, through the use of his gift, making men want him whether they willed it or no. “I wouldn’t.” There was exhaustion in Cuinn’s voice, as if he’d spent the time since their coffeehouse tryst at some heavy labor. “Though I would, if I had any sense of self-preservation.” There was a sobering, and unsettling, sense of finality to the other Fae’s words. “I’m not after destroying you.” Not that he hadn’t wanted to, a time or two. But the taste of joy he’d had in the coffeehouse had changed all that. Cuinn shook his head. “It’s not your doing.” He seemed about to say something else, but stopped, and sniffed, brows arching as he glanced around the bedroom. “I realize everyone needs a hobby, but arson? Really?” Rian pushed himself up to sit against the headboard, with a sense of deja vu. Had it only been the middle of last night, when Cuinn appeared to him, determined to resist him but doomed to fail? “It helps. A little.”

About the Author
Rory Ni Coileain
I majored in creative writing, back when Respectable Colleges didn’t offer such a major, so I designed it myself – being careful to ensure that I never had to take a class before nine in the morning or take a Hemingway survey course. I was lucky enough to score the wonderful P.C. Hodgell as a major advisor, too, and to spend several years in a writer’s workshop with Eleanor Arnason. I graduated Phi Beta Kappa at the age of nineteen, sent off my first short story to an anthology being assembled by an author I idolized, got one of those rejection letters that you talk about with your therapist until you’re old and gray, and found other things to do, such as corporate law and nightclub singing, for the next thirty years or so, until I discovered, entirely by chance (except that I don’t believe in chance), the world of m/m erotic romance. Now I have a day job as a legal editor that I’m aching to quit, I’m the mother of a high school senior (when did THAT happen?) and a member of my church choir and the St. Mark’s Cathedral Choral Society, and I’m trying frantically to keep up with the adventures of a group of very randy Fae and tree spirits and the humans who can’t seem to help falling in love with them.
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20 Fun Facts

1. I have two toenails on each of my pinky toes.
2. My favorite color is purple-and-green-and-gold. Yes, I Mardi Gras.
3. Men with morning stubble. Yespleaseandthankyou.
4. The only things I want on my mashed potatoes are butter and pepper.
5. I've played connect-the-dots with the freckles on the back of one of People's Sexiest Men Alive.
6. I’m possibly the only writer who not only doesn’t write to music, I can’t write to music.
7. I have a serious jones for designer handbags. Deeply discounted designer handbags.
8. I didn't have a driver's license until I was 23.
9. I teach Irish ceili dancing. No, not Michael Flatley dancing. Bite your tongue.
10. If you want to get me on a roller coaster, you will have to pry my fingernails out of the railing. And then out of your arm.
11. I was .01 GPA percentage point away from being the youngest summa cum laude graduate in the history of the University of Minnesota.
12. The class that sunk me was Creative Writing.
13. I have hugged every cast member of the original Star Trek
except William Shatner and James Doohan. Yes, that includes George Takei. Be jealous.
14. I'm a very good cook, I just hide it because I hate bringing things to potlucks.
15. I speak, or have spoken, English, Spanish, Welsh, Latin, Russian, and Irish.
16. Drinks of choice: Guinness, Tennessee Honey, Moscato, Talisker. Drink of last resort: Champagne. Not that I don’t like it, but I can’t hold my bubbles. The whole reason I have a Pinterest account is Champagne-induced carelessness.
17. My Doctor is Four.
18. I’ve met the then-sitting President of one European country.
19. I assembled my writing desk myself. And didn’t hurt myself. Much.
20. I was in Seven World Trade Center at the time of the FIRST World Trade Center bombing.
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Purchase the Other Books in the Series
Hard as Stone
Gale Force
Deep Plunge
(2) ebook of Firestorm
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