"You couldn't soar it you didn't leap."
FINAL DECISION: Two romances that feel like romances rather than an add on to an ongoing story. Although very sexy, both of these romances were sweeter emotionally than I expected with less angst and drama.
THE STORY: This book has two stories. First, the story of Peyton and Novo. Peyton is an aristocratic vampire who expected to find a worthy female of his class to marry and carry on his family legacy. The female, he wanted, however, rejected him in favor of another male. Instead, he is intrigued by Novo who is definitely not what he expected to want. A fellow trainee, Novo is brash, very sexual and not at all aristocratic. But she has secrets that keep her from opening up. Second, is the story of Saxon and Ruhn. Saxon was rejected by the male he chose for himself. But when Ruhn comes into the Black Dagger household, Saxon finds himself attracted. Ruhn, however, may not want to explore the possible connection between himself and Saxon.
OPINION: This was a book that was evenly split between the two couples and didn't have any extraneous stories to take away from those two romances. There is also common threads between the two romances: both have one person who has a tragic past and suffers from feelings of lack of worth; and both have some crummy father figures.
I enjoyed these stories because although there are dark aspects of the pasts of these characters, the stories themselves are less dark than many of the Black Dagger Brotherhood books. The stories were lighter in many ways and happier. The couples get together quicker than I expected and have to work through their problems together.
Although I enjoyed the recruits' romance story, I was most satisfied with Saxon finally getting his happy ending. We get the chance not only to know more about him and see him getting the opportunity to be more than just a plot device. Ruhn is an interesting pairing for him and I enjoyed the sweetness of their interaction (and the hotness). The weakness of that story for me is that there is almost too fast a connection between them (especially because Ruhn has not had a relationship with a male before).
Peyton and Novo have a more traditional romance (well as traditional as could be expected in the Black Dagger universe. Like the other trainee stories, their romance has a bit of a new adult feel to it as opposed to the Black Dagger Brotherhood couples. Their problems seem smaller and more manageable but no less important. I thought they were funny at times, but intense and sweet at others. (And seriously hot).
I enjoyed this book very much, it feels like a relief from the intense drama of the main series and has a more romance feel to it.
WORTH MENTIONING: The book contains a couple of public sex scenes.
CONNECTED BOOKS: BLOOD FURY is the third book in the Black Dagger Legacy series which is a spinoff of Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood series. I think the Black Dagger Legacy books at least should be read in order because of the developing relationships. With the cross-over with the Black Dagger Brotherhood, however, a reader is better served by reading the entire two series in order.
STAR RATING: I give this book 4 stars.
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Editorial Reviews
Review
Praise for J. R. Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood series
“Utterly absorbing.”—Angela Knight
“To die for . . . I love this series!”—Suzanne Brockmann
“Utterly absorbing.”—Angela Knight
“To die for . . . I love this series!”—Suzanne Brockmann
About the Author
J. R. Ward is the author of more than thirty novels, including those in her #1 New York Times bestselling Black Dagger Brotherhood series. She lives in the South with her family.
--This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
One
When you had everything in the world, it never dawned on you that there were chances to miss. Opportunities that were only temporary. Dreams that could not be fulfilled.
As Peyton, son of Peythone, hid his eyes behind blue lenses, he stared across the training center’s break room. Paradise, blooded daughter of the King’s First Adviser, Abalone, was sitting one-eighty on a not-fancy chair, her legs dangling over one arm as her back rested against the other. Her blond head was down, her eyes reviewing notes on IEDs.
Improvised Explosive Devices.
Knowing what was on those pages—the promise of death, the reality of the war with the Lessening Society, the danger she had put herself in by joining the Black Dagger Brotherhood’s training program for soldiers—made him want to take the notes away and rewind time. He wanted to return to their old lives, before she had come here to learn how to fight . . . and before he had learned she was so much more than an aristocratic female with a stellar bloodline and classic beauty.
Without the war, though, he doubted they would have ever grown close.
That terrible night when the Lessening Society had attacked the houses of the glymera, slaughtering whole families and legions of servants, had been the catalyst for the two of them to get tight. He had always been a hard partyer, running with a fast crowd of rich, world-is-my-oyster males who frequented human clubs during the night and stayed home smoking up all day long. But after the attacks? Both of their families had decamped to safe houses outside of Caldwell, and he and Paradise had fallen into the habit of calling each other when they couldn’t sleep.
Which had been most of the time.
They had spent hours on the phone, talking about nothing and everything, from the serious to the stoopid to the silly.
He had told her things that he had never shared with anybody: He’d admitted to her he was scared and that he felt alone and worried about the future. Had said out loud, for the first time, that he thought he had a drug problem. Had worried about whether or not he could cut it in the real world away from the club scene.
And she had been there for him.
She was the first female friend he had ever had. Yeah, sure, he had fucked raft loads of the opposite sex, but with Paradise, it hadn’t been about getting laid.
Although he wanted her. Of course he did. She was incredibly—
“Admit it.”
As Paradise spoke up, he snapped to attention. Then looked around. The break room was empty except for the two of them, everybody else either in the weight room, the locker rooms, or loitering out in the hall as they waited to leave for the day.
So, yeah, she was talking to him. Looking at him, too.
“G’head.” Her eyes were very direct. “Why don’t you say it finally.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. And when the silence stretched out between them, he felt like he’d done a line of blow, his heart turning his rib cage into a mosh pit, his palms getting sweaty, his lids going venetian blind from the blinking.
Paradise straightened in the chair, shifting her long legs around and crossing them primly at the knee. It was a reflexive move, something that came from her lineage and her aristocratic upbringing: Every female of her station sat properly. It was just what one did, no matter where one was or what one was wearing.
Crate & Barrel or Louis XIV. Lycra or Lanvin. Standards, darling.
He imagined her in a gown, dripping in her dead mahmen’s jewels, under a ballroom’s crystal chandelier, her hair up high, her perfect face radiant, her body . . . moving against his own.
“Where’s your man,” he said in a rough voice—one that he hoped she blamed on his weed habit.
The smile that hit her face made him feel old and ugly-wasted, even though they were the same age and he was sober.
“He’s just getting changed.”
“Big plans for the night?”
“Nope.”
Yeah, right. That blush told him exactly what they were going to do—and how much she was looking forward to it.
Popping his sunnies up, he rubbed his eyes. It was hard to believe he was never going to know what that was like . . . having her under him as he rode her, her naked body his to explore, her thighs spread wide so he could—
“And don’t change the subject.” She sat forward in that chair. “Come on. Say it. The truth will set you free, right?”
As the compressor behind the soda machine kicked on, he glanced over at the food service counter, where meals and snacks were offered when they were logging classroom and gym time. Even though the Brothers were letting the trainees out into the field for proper engagement with the enemy, there was still a lot of theory and hand-to-hand and weapons work that was done on a regular basis on-site.
At least two to three nights a week, he ate here—
Wow. Check it. He was trying to distract himself.
Peyton swung his stare back to her. God, she was so beautiful, so blond, with those big blue eyes . . . and those lips. Soft, naturally pink. Her body had gotten a little less curvy, a little more muscular, since she had started working out so much, and the power was a turn-on.
“You know,” she murmured, “there was a time we didn’t keep anything from each other.”
Not really, he thought. He had always kept his attraction to her on the DL.
“People change.” He stretched and cracked his back. “Relationships, too.”
“Not ours.”
“What’s the point.” He shook his head. “Nothing good can come from—”
“Come on, Peyton. I can feel you staring at me in class, out in the field. It’s so damned obvious. And listen . . . I know where you’re coming from. I’m not naive.”
The tension in her was obvious, her shoulders tight, her mouth thinning out. And hey, what do you know, he hated the position he was putting them in, too. If he could stop it, he would, but feelings were like wild animals. They did what they wanted and to hell with what they trampled or bit or kicked in the process.
“As much as I try to ignore it”—she pushed her hair over her shoulder—“and as much as I’m sure you want to feel differently, it is what it is. I think we need to talk about it so we can clear the air, you know? Before it starts to affect us or the others out in the field.”
“I don’t think it’s resolvable.” Not unless you want to go on a two-hundred and seventy-five-pound diet and lose your mate. “And I don’t think it matters.”
“I disagree.” She threw up her hands. “Oh, come on. We’ve been through so much together. There’s nothing you and I can’t handle. Remember those hours on the phone? Talk to me.”
As Peyton wondered why in the hell he hadn’t brought a bong with him, he got to his feet and played trailblazer with the dorm furniture that had been arranged with the care and precision of a game of marbles: The various seats, couches, and tables were willy-nilly’d all over the place, the result of different study groups and some questionable betting over push-ups, sit-ups, and arm wrestling having fucked the arrangement.
When he finally stopped, he turned around. And they both spoke at the same time.
“Fine, I’m in love with you—”
“I know you still don’t approve of me—”
In another burst of synchronization, they shut up together.
“What did you say?” she breathed.
Gun. He needed a gun. So he could shoot himself in the foot in fact, as opposed to just in the hypothetical.
The door to the break room swung open and her male, Craeg, strode in like he owned the place. Big, heavily muscled, and one of the best fighters in the trainee class, he was the kind of guy who could use a rusty nail for a toothpick as he sutured up his own wounds in the middle of a burning warehouse with two lessers coming at him and a scared golden retriever puppy under his arm.
Craeg stopped and looked back and forth between them. “Am I interrupting something?”
Novo barely made it to the industrial-sized metal trash bin in time. As she bent in half and threw up, nothing but water made an appearance, and when the heaving passed, she rolled off the rim and let herself fall to the mats. Easing back against the cold concrete wall, she waited for the world to stop spinning around her.
Sweat fell like tears down her face, and her throat was on fire—although that was less about the vomiting than the sawing inhales she had been taking as she deadlifted. And don’t get her started on her lungs. She felt as though she had been trying to find oxygen in the middle of billowing hot smoke.
Clank. Clank. Clank . . .
When she was able to, she lifted her head and focused. Across the weight room, a massive male was doing leg presses in a slow, controlled fashion, his forearms bulging from where he was gripping the pegs by his hips, his thigh muscles carved in stone, veins popping out everywhere.
He was staring at her. But not in a creepy way.
More like in an okay-is-it-time-to-call-a-doctor manner.
“I’m all right,” she said, looking away from him. Although with his headphones on, it wasn’t like he could hear her.
I’mallright. I’mallright. NoreallyI’mallright—
Leaning to the side, she snagged a fresh white towel from a stack on one of the benches and mopped up. The Black Dagger Brotherhood’s training center was a case of state of the art, best of the best, professional grade all the way: From this iron dungeon of self-inflicted pain to the firing range, the classrooms, the Olympic pool, the gym, and then the medical clinic, PT facility, and surgery suites, no expense had been spared, and upkeep was just as meticulous and costly.
With a final clank, the male sat forward and did a pass of his own face. He had dark brown hair that had recently been cut, the sides so tight they were nearly shaved, the top left long and loose. His eyes were some kind of brown, and he had an all-American kind of look—well, except for the fangs, which were straight-up Bram Stoker, and the fact that he was not any more human or American than she was. The white muscle shirt he had on was stressed the fuck out trying to stretch over his enormous pecs, and his dark, hairless skin was just the same, taut nearly to the point of structural failure across his six-pack and lats.
He had no tattoos. No false airs. Unfancy clothes. And he rarely spoke—if he did open his mouth, it was always logistical, like, what machine was she going to use next, or was this her towel? He was unfailingly polite, distant as a horizon, and seemingly unaware she was a female.
In short, this stranger was her new best friend. Even though she didn’t know his name.
And they did spend a lot of time together. At the end of every in-house night for the trainees, the two of them were here alone, the Brothers working out during the day, the other trainees already exhausted from whatever they had been doing in class.
Novo always had juice left in the tank, though.
Fuck 5-hour Energy or Xenadrine. Personal demons were waaaaay better for getting your ass in gear.
Oh, and then there was the other reason she preferred to vom into a Hefty bag rather than hang with the others while they waited for their bus to take them down the mountain.
“You’re bleeding.”
Novo jerked her head up. The male was standing over her, and when she frowned, he pointed to her hands.
“Bleeding.”
Lifting one of her palms, she saw that, yup, she certainly was leaking. She had forgotten her gloves, and the bar that she had been holding the five hundred pounds with had cut into her.
“What’s your name?” she asked as she pressed the towel into the raw spots. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
When you had everything in the world, it never dawned on you that there were chances to miss. Opportunities that were only temporary. Dreams that could not be fulfilled.
As Peyton, son of Peythone, hid his eyes behind blue lenses, he stared across the training center’s break room. Paradise, blooded daughter of the King’s First Adviser, Abalone, was sitting one-eighty on a not-fancy chair, her legs dangling over one arm as her back rested against the other. Her blond head was down, her eyes reviewing notes on IEDs.
Improvised Explosive Devices.
Knowing what was on those pages—the promise of death, the reality of the war with the Lessening Society, the danger she had put herself in by joining the Black Dagger Brotherhood’s training program for soldiers—made him want to take the notes away and rewind time. He wanted to return to their old lives, before she had come here to learn how to fight . . . and before he had learned she was so much more than an aristocratic female with a stellar bloodline and classic beauty.
Without the war, though, he doubted they would have ever grown close.
That terrible night when the Lessening Society had attacked the houses of the glymera, slaughtering whole families and legions of servants, had been the catalyst for the two of them to get tight. He had always been a hard partyer, running with a fast crowd of rich, world-is-my-oyster males who frequented human clubs during the night and stayed home smoking up all day long. But after the attacks? Both of their families had decamped to safe houses outside of Caldwell, and he and Paradise had fallen into the habit of calling each other when they couldn’t sleep.
Which had been most of the time.
They had spent hours on the phone, talking about nothing and everything, from the serious to the stoopid to the silly.
He had told her things that he had never shared with anybody: He’d admitted to her he was scared and that he felt alone and worried about the future. Had said out loud, for the first time, that he thought he had a drug problem. Had worried about whether or not he could cut it in the real world away from the club scene.
And she had been there for him.
She was the first female friend he had ever had. Yeah, sure, he had fucked raft loads of the opposite sex, but with Paradise, it hadn’t been about getting laid.
Although he wanted her. Of course he did. She was incredibly—
“Admit it.”
As Paradise spoke up, he snapped to attention. Then looked around. The break room was empty except for the two of them, everybody else either in the weight room, the locker rooms, or loitering out in the hall as they waited to leave for the day.
So, yeah, she was talking to him. Looking at him, too.
“G’head.” Her eyes were very direct. “Why don’t you say it finally.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. And when the silence stretched out between them, he felt like he’d done a line of blow, his heart turning his rib cage into a mosh pit, his palms getting sweaty, his lids going venetian blind from the blinking.
Paradise straightened in the chair, shifting her long legs around and crossing them primly at the knee. It was a reflexive move, something that came from her lineage and her aristocratic upbringing: Every female of her station sat properly. It was just what one did, no matter where one was or what one was wearing.
Crate & Barrel or Louis XIV. Lycra or Lanvin. Standards, darling.
He imagined her in a gown, dripping in her dead mahmen’s jewels, under a ballroom’s crystal chandelier, her hair up high, her perfect face radiant, her body . . . moving against his own.
“Where’s your man,” he said in a rough voice—one that he hoped she blamed on his weed habit.
The smile that hit her face made him feel old and ugly-wasted, even though they were the same age and he was sober.
“He’s just getting changed.”
“Big plans for the night?”
“Nope.”
Yeah, right. That blush told him exactly what they were going to do—and how much she was looking forward to it.
Popping his sunnies up, he rubbed his eyes. It was hard to believe he was never going to know what that was like . . . having her under him as he rode her, her naked body his to explore, her thighs spread wide so he could—
“And don’t change the subject.” She sat forward in that chair. “Come on. Say it. The truth will set you free, right?”
As the compressor behind the soda machine kicked on, he glanced over at the food service counter, where meals and snacks were offered when they were logging classroom and gym time. Even though the Brothers were letting the trainees out into the field for proper engagement with the enemy, there was still a lot of theory and hand-to-hand and weapons work that was done on a regular basis on-site.
At least two to three nights a week, he ate here—
Wow. Check it. He was trying to distract himself.
Peyton swung his stare back to her. God, she was so beautiful, so blond, with those big blue eyes . . . and those lips. Soft, naturally pink. Her body had gotten a little less curvy, a little more muscular, since she had started working out so much, and the power was a turn-on.
“You know,” she murmured, “there was a time we didn’t keep anything from each other.”
Not really, he thought. He had always kept his attraction to her on the DL.
“People change.” He stretched and cracked his back. “Relationships, too.”
“Not ours.”
“What’s the point.” He shook his head. “Nothing good can come from—”
“Come on, Peyton. I can feel you staring at me in class, out in the field. It’s so damned obvious. And listen . . . I know where you’re coming from. I’m not naive.”
The tension in her was obvious, her shoulders tight, her mouth thinning out. And hey, what do you know, he hated the position he was putting them in, too. If he could stop it, he would, but feelings were like wild animals. They did what they wanted and to hell with what they trampled or bit or kicked in the process.
“As much as I try to ignore it”—she pushed her hair over her shoulder—“and as much as I’m sure you want to feel differently, it is what it is. I think we need to talk about it so we can clear the air, you know? Before it starts to affect us or the others out in the field.”
“I don’t think it’s resolvable.” Not unless you want to go on a two-hundred and seventy-five-pound diet and lose your mate. “And I don’t think it matters.”
“I disagree.” She threw up her hands. “Oh, come on. We’ve been through so much together. There’s nothing you and I can’t handle. Remember those hours on the phone? Talk to me.”
As Peyton wondered why in the hell he hadn’t brought a bong with him, he got to his feet and played trailblazer with the dorm furniture that had been arranged with the care and precision of a game of marbles: The various seats, couches, and tables were willy-nilly’d all over the place, the result of different study groups and some questionable betting over push-ups, sit-ups, and arm wrestling having fucked the arrangement.
When he finally stopped, he turned around. And they both spoke at the same time.
“Fine, I’m in love with you—”
“I know you still don’t approve of me—”
In another burst of synchronization, they shut up together.
“What did you say?” she breathed.
Gun. He needed a gun. So he could shoot himself in the foot in fact, as opposed to just in the hypothetical.
The door to the break room swung open and her male, Craeg, strode in like he owned the place. Big, heavily muscled, and one of the best fighters in the trainee class, he was the kind of guy who could use a rusty nail for a toothpick as he sutured up his own wounds in the middle of a burning warehouse with two lessers coming at him and a scared golden retriever puppy under his arm.
Craeg stopped and looked back and forth between them. “Am I interrupting something?”
Novo barely made it to the industrial-sized metal trash bin in time. As she bent in half and threw up, nothing but water made an appearance, and when the heaving passed, she rolled off the rim and let herself fall to the mats. Easing back against the cold concrete wall, she waited for the world to stop spinning around her.
Sweat fell like tears down her face, and her throat was on fire—although that was less about the vomiting than the sawing inhales she had been taking as she deadlifted. And don’t get her started on her lungs. She felt as though she had been trying to find oxygen in the middle of billowing hot smoke.
Clank. Clank. Clank . . .
When she was able to, she lifted her head and focused. Across the weight room, a massive male was doing leg presses in a slow, controlled fashion, his forearms bulging from where he was gripping the pegs by his hips, his thigh muscles carved in stone, veins popping out everywhere.
He was staring at her. But not in a creepy way.
More like in an okay-is-it-time-to-call-a-doctor manner.
“I’m all right,” she said, looking away from him. Although with his headphones on, it wasn’t like he could hear her.
I’mallright. I’mallright. NoreallyI’mallright—
Leaning to the side, she snagged a fresh white towel from a stack on one of the benches and mopped up. The Black Dagger Brotherhood’s training center was a case of state of the art, best of the best, professional grade all the way: From this iron dungeon of self-inflicted pain to the firing range, the classrooms, the Olympic pool, the gym, and then the medical clinic, PT facility, and surgery suites, no expense had been spared, and upkeep was just as meticulous and costly.
With a final clank, the male sat forward and did a pass of his own face. He had dark brown hair that had recently been cut, the sides so tight they were nearly shaved, the top left long and loose. His eyes were some kind of brown, and he had an all-American kind of look—well, except for the fangs, which were straight-up Bram Stoker, and the fact that he was not any more human or American than she was. The white muscle shirt he had on was stressed the fuck out trying to stretch over his enormous pecs, and his dark, hairless skin was just the same, taut nearly to the point of structural failure across his six-pack and lats.
He had no tattoos. No false airs. Unfancy clothes. And he rarely spoke—if he did open his mouth, it was always logistical, like, what machine was she going to use next, or was this her towel? He was unfailingly polite, distant as a horizon, and seemingly unaware she was a female.
In short, this stranger was her new best friend. Even though she didn’t know his name.
And they did spend a lot of time together. At the end of every in-house night for the trainees, the two of them were here alone, the Brothers working out during the day, the other trainees already exhausted from whatever they had been doing in class.
Novo always had juice left in the tank, though.
Fuck 5-hour Energy or Xenadrine. Personal demons were waaaaay better for getting your ass in gear.
Oh, and then there was the other reason she preferred to vom into a Hefty bag rather than hang with the others while they waited for their bus to take them down the mountain.
“You’re bleeding.”
Novo jerked her head up. The male was standing over her, and when she frowned, he pointed to her hands.
“Bleeding.”
Lifting one of her palms, she saw that, yup, she certainly was leaking. She had forgotten her gloves, and the bar that she had been holding the five hundred pounds with had cut into her.
“What’s your name?” she asked as she pressed the towel into the raw spots. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
Product details
- ASIN : B06ZZ9Q9L5
- Publisher : Ballantine Books (January 9, 2018)
- Publication date : January 9, 2018
- Language : English
- File size : 6354 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Print length : 442 pages
- Lending : Not Enabled
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Reviewed in the United States on January 10, 2018
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Ok so I admit, I don't always pre-order BDB books, and I don't think I've EVER reviewed one (because come on, Ward is doing just fine without my input), but I felt the need to remedy that after reading this book because Ward surprised me. Here I was thinking, I had her pattern down -which I promise isn't a put down; I keep buying BDB books because even if the world building isn't your fav, and you roll your eyes a little at some of the forced in pop culture constructs, Ward writes such beautiful compelling, dark characters. I can't even think of another Author who's done it so consistently and often, therefore, Ward gets my hard earned bucks. Originally, I pre-ordered because I was really interested in Novo, and Ruhn's characters (and of course I've always loved Saxton) and I figured with Peyton that there was some kind of redemption coming so I was even on board to like him by the end. Imagine my surprise when one of my favorite parts was being inside Peyton's brain with his hilariously clever musings dripping with sarcasm... I don't think I've ever laughed or smiled so much in a BDB book (sorry Rhage and Lassiter) and it was immensely enjoyable (and, yes, even refreshing). Not to say the other characters didn't deliver- really liked getting to know Ruhn especially and seeing Saxton find his one and only. Normally, I like one story line slightly better than the other, but I found myself equally eager to read whichever POV Ward decided to throw at me, which again has never happened. Go Ward! Def a re-read in my future...
29 people found this helpful
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Reviewed in the United States on January 13, 2018
Verified Purchase
I have been a J.R Ward fan since the beginning. I have really enjoyed the first couple of books in this spin off series. This one however was just Blah... I love Peyton and Novo but it was missing the ACTION/FIGHTING. The scenes where you feel like you are there in the streets with them. It was just one conversation to the next. I will have to agree with other fans and say the price for a digital download is just a little much. I will still read her books because I am invested but i will wait until my local library has them to download.
14 people found this helpful
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Reviewed in the United States on January 15, 2018
Verified Purchase
I have never given 3 stars to JR Ward and I hesitated for the longest time. I am a HUGE BDB fan and I have loved this series so much. Loved getting a glimpse of day to day life with brothers and the new developments. However, this book fell very short for me. It was predictable ( possibly due to the fact that the ending was given away in all the previews to this book. She’s not done that before. Teased and pretty much gave you the end result but always left enough to get you excited. ). This one lacked a lot of true drama and suspense - again due to the postings of who gets their happy endings and all the mush.
There was a great scene in a van that made me feel like the true BDB was peeking through but then it was gone and turned into such a predictable love story.
Novo has been a bad ass since the beginning - Ward should have left more of that personality , even with the change and discovery. She’s done it before with V and others.
I will continue to read this series and the BDB series with hopes that the WARDen can get back on track and give us more of what we are accustomed to. I know it’s a big world and there are a lot of developing story lines but PLEASE don’t lose that special magic that hooked us in the beginning.
There was a great scene in a van that made me feel like the true BDB was peeking through but then it was gone and turned into such a predictable love story.
Novo has been a bad ass since the beginning - Ward should have left more of that personality , even with the change and discovery. She’s done it before with V and others.
I will continue to read this series and the BDB series with hopes that the WARDen can get back on track and give us more of what we are accustomed to. I know it’s a big world and there are a lot of developing story lines but PLEASE don’t lose that special magic that hooked us in the beginning.
20 people found this helpful
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Top reviews from other countries

Unicorn
3.0 out of 5 stars
Like another reviewer I thought it was rushed and just ...
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on January 13, 2018Verified Purchase
This book seem to be a lot of money for a short read. Normally I get about 3 days read from a £10 book this one lasted about half that time. Like another reviewer I thought it was rushed and just touched on things I would have liked expansion on. Although there was to my mind far too much time on the male on male sex scenes. This might be the last JR Ward books I buy, as not sure I care enough about the next that features Assail.
7 people found this helpful
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nabalie
5.0 out of 5 stars
Great addition
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on August 12, 2018Verified Purchase
Love the main BDB series so this extension was a great addition in between waiting for the brothers who are dotted throughout .
Novo and Peyton aren't suited on the surface and I wasn't entirely convinced they worked apart from their attraction but it's from that that they discovered more of each other.
Reading about who Novo really is was the best feature, I know everyone has a past but hers is tragic and unexpected that you're so happy she gets her h.e.a.
Saxton and Rune are the other couple featured and it was nice they found happiness. Saxton was never a character I particularly wanted to know more from but to discover Rune's (Bittys uncle) history which was never touched upon in the main series was intriguing.
Enjoyable read and can't wait for Mhurder!
Novo and Peyton aren't suited on the surface and I wasn't entirely convinced they worked apart from their attraction but it's from that that they discovered more of each other.
Reading about who Novo really is was the best feature, I know everyone has a past but hers is tragic and unexpected that you're so happy she gets her h.e.a.
Saxton and Rune are the other couple featured and it was nice they found happiness. Saxton was never a character I particularly wanted to know more from but to discover Rune's (Bittys uncle) history which was never touched upon in the main series was intriguing.
Enjoyable read and can't wait for Mhurder!
2 people found this helpful
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Desi
3.0 out of 5 stars
Good but not great
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on January 15, 2018Verified Purchase
I'm an avid JR Ward fan and pre book all her latest novels. Whilst I can say this was written in her normal brilliant style it lacked substance and left me wondering what I had paid £9.99 for. Hope this spin off of the black dagger series 1) isn't a money spinner and 2) doesn't affect the main series.
5 people found this helpful
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Verona Jay
5.0 out of 5 stars
Singing Blood Fury Praises
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on June 1, 2018Verified Purchase
Once again J.R. Ward has delivered an outstanding novel! I love how Ward never fails to incorporate multiple relationships within the storylines of her narratives whilst ensuring that the other trainees of the Black Dagger Legacy and the original BDB soldiers are present, which reinforces what a tight-knit 'family' the inhabitants of the BDB world are. Blood Fury is no exception. Two storylines with many barriers and conflicts to overcome will keep your eyes glued to the page at every turn. I love all of J.R. Ward's book and can easily say that this is one of my absolute favourites. Roll on The Thief. Waiting with bated breath.
One person found this helpful
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Carol
2.0 out of 5 stars
Disappointed
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on January 11, 2018Verified Purchase
Was really disappointed with this latest book. Same old story gift wrapped. I’m not sure spin off books are worth it. I love BDB books of which I look forward to the next on. Sadly for me this book just didn’t cut it.
5 people found this helpful
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