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Sylvain Reynard

Gabriel's Inferno

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Enigmatic and sexy, Professor Gabriel Emerson is a well respected Dante specialist by day, but by night he devotes himself to an uninhibited life of pleasure. He uses his notorious good looks and sophisticated charm to gratify his every whim, but is secretly tortured by his dark past and consumed by the profound belief that he is beyond all hope of redemption. When the sweet and innocent Julia Mitchell enrolls as his graduate student, his attraction and mysterious connection to her not only jeopardizes his career, but sends him on a journey in which his past and his present collide. An intriguing and sinful exploration of seduction, forbidden love and redemption, “Gabriel's Inferno” is a captivating and wildly passionate tale of one man's escape from his own personal hell as he tries to earn the impossible…forgiveness and love.
«Gabriel's Inferno” — semi-finalist for Best Romance in the 2011 Goodreads Choice Awards
«This is not only one of the best debut books this year, but Reynard is one of the best new authors this year. 5 stars.” – Donna of Offbeat Vagabond
«It's not very often that I am left so affected by a book, but this one took me on a roller coaster ride of emotions… This novel is thought provoking, entertaining and beautiful. 5 stars.”– Nix of Scorching Book Reviews
«This is one of the most romantic and sensual stories I have read …the words he writes will sing to you. 5 stars.” – JJ of JJ iReads
«I was seduced, entranced, and completely satisfied… The narrator, and its characters were equally charming and sinful. 5 stars.” – Tigris Eden's Garden of Books
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Впечатления

  • Theodore Maurice August "Vanderboom" Scarletделится впечатлением2 года назад
    👍Worth reading
    💞Loved Up
    🚀Unputdownable
    😄LOLZ
    🐼Fluffy

  • Rubiyanti R.делится впечатлением3 года назад
    👍Worth reading
    💞Loved Up

  • vian23делится впечатлением4 года назад
    👍Worth reading
    🎯Worthwhile
    💞Loved Up

Цитаты

  • Theodore Maurice August "Vanderboom" Scarletцитирует2 года назад
    Florence 1290

    The poet dropped the note to the floor with a shaking hand. He sat silently for several moments, motionless as a statue. Then with a great clenching of teeth he stood to his feet and swept agitatedly through his house, ignoring tables and fragile items, disdaining the other inhabitants of his home.

    There was only one person whom he wished to see.

    He strode quickly through the city streets, almost breaking into a run on his way to the river. He stood at the end of the bridge, their bridge, his moist eyes eagerly scanning the adjacent riverbank for the barest glimpse of his beloved.

    She was nowhere to be found.

    She would never return.

    His beloved Beatrice was gone.
  • Theodore Maurice August "Vanderboom" Scarletцитирует2 года назад
    In the wee hours of the morning, the Edenic lovers wound themselves around each other, flesh against flesh, sleepy and sated in a large, white bed. Lightness and darkness, innocence and experience, kissed and caressed in the warmth and acceptance created by their love. The dark angel whispered to his muse in Italian until she fell asleep in his arms, happier than she had ever been. She was loved.

    The End
  • Theodore Maurice August "Vanderboom" Scarletцитирует2 года назад
    Was it—okay for you?” she whispered.

    That’s an understatement, he thought.

    “Like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. You were perfect. You are perfect.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head, and she snuggled into his arms. “And very, very sexy. How about you?”

    “It was even better than I imagined. Thank you.”

    He began to run his hands up and down the slick, wet skin around her ribs.

    “Why the bath?” she asked, shifting against him slightly, feeling his new arousal against her backside.

    His lips found her ear. “I wanted to care for you.”

    “Thank you, Gabriel, for your kindness to me. I know things would not have been as pleasant if I was with someone else.”

    He kissed her hair. “You deserve far more and far better than me, Beatrice,” he whispered. “La gloriosa donna della mia mente. The glorious lady of my mind.”

    “My Dante.” She turned to kiss his wet chest. “When can we do that again?”

    Gabriel smiled. “Not until tomorrow. You need to heal first.”

    She squirmed slightly. “But it isn’t that bad. You were very careful.”

    “After all that we’ve shared, I just want to hold you and be close. Rest in my arms and know that I love you. We’ll be making love again very, very soon.”

    Julia felt comforted and let herself relax wholly against his body. She silently thanked the gods of large bathtubs, handsome, sexy lovers, and rose-scented bubble bath. (Not necessarily in that order.) And she thanked the gods of virgins who were about to have sex with their sex-god (no blasphemy intended) boyfriends for the mother of all orgasms. Thrice over.

    Romantic

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