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A review by _isabel_
The Captive's Curse by Eliot Grayson
adventurous
emotional
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
5.0
What a freaking gem. Eliot Grayson does it again, friends. "The Captive's Curse" was one of my most anticipated books of the year, and not only did it meet my expectations, it surpassed them: this is a delicious, wonderfully heartfelt and funny, absolutely gripping and ridiculously fun and steamy romp of a book. I devoured it; I never wanted to leave it, and I never wanted to leave its two ridiculously chaotic protagonists. Cyril and Enzo own my whole damn heart.
This second book in the "Twilight Mages" series is as gripping as its predecessor, and although it's decidedly less angsty, it's still as heartfelt and addictive: I enjoyed it immensely.
The story was bonkers, in the best way possible (failed kidnapping and ransom plot? A captor who's actually a sweatheart and a sap, and a captive mage who manages to have him completely whipped in *count pages* immediately? A mad ghost, ft. a whole lot of bedroom swapping, pillow stealing and boiling hot tension?), and I laughed out loud, swooned, banged my head in frustration, then swooned once again; rinse and repeat, from start to finish. What a freaking ride.
I loved the writing and I adored the world-building in this one too: the way Eliot's plotted this series, the Twilight mages curses, the political intrigues and the simple yet vivid high fantasy atmosphere, made everything even more special.
I obviously adored both leads. Both of them are chaotic gremlins, the silliest, horniest, most idiotic and dramatic disasters to ever exist: I laughed out loud so many times. Their banter never felt forced, and the underlying tension and frustration behind it made it 100 times better.
< “Was I face- up in your lap or face- down?” I demanded. “If I was face- down, then everyone saw my ass sticking up! It probably looked huge. Were you staring at it?”
His eyes widened absurdly, his mouth dropping open. From behind him, Leander made a sound I couldn’t quite identify. “I beg your pardon?” Enzo choked. “Last night you bent over and— were you— was I— fuck, I never should have kidnapped you.” Leander’s noises resolved into gurgles of laughter. >
I loved their dynamic so damn much, and I loved how hilarious both of them were in their own way. Like I said, they're silly and horny and quite possibly share a lonely braincell when it comes to thinking before acting and/or speaking, but I adored them. Their chemistry was fire, so damn piping hot, and I loved the steam SO. DAMN. MUCH. Eliot Grayson never fails.
I adored Cyril and his own dramatic, high-handed, flirty self, and I loved Enzo with his snark and his protectiveness.
< “Gods, Enzo, please! But not in the mud!” I cried desperately, as he yanked me closer. “Sometimes I think I don’t have the slightest idea what’s in that head of yours,” Enzo muttered, shoving me away again, already busy stripping off his coat, “even though you talk more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He laid his coat on the ground and spread it out. “There, Lord Fastidious. Get your pants off before I rip them off.” >
Like I said, I never wanted to leave.
I cannot wait to read book three: I have no idea who'll be next; or I might have an idea, but I have no idea what to expect. I do so wish Leander would be next though; I seriously doubt it, since these books are all standalones with very minor overlapping, but I'd gnaw my own foot off for him to be a Surprise/Secret Dawn Mage *prayer cicle*
Like I said, this is wishful thinking, and I'd read whichever book and couple Eliot writes next regardless. She's become one of my favourite authors ever, and I can't wait to devour whatever comes next.
I received an ARC from the author, and this is my honest review.
This second book in the "Twilight Mages" series is as gripping as its predecessor, and although it's decidedly less angsty, it's still as heartfelt and addictive: I enjoyed it immensely.
The story was bonkers, in the best way possible (failed kidnapping and ransom plot? A captor who's actually a sweatheart and a sap, and a captive mage who manages to have him completely whipped in *count pages* immediately? A mad ghost, ft. a whole lot of bedroom swapping, pillow stealing and boiling hot tension?), and I laughed out loud, swooned, banged my head in frustration, then swooned once again; rinse and repeat, from start to finish. What a freaking ride.
I loved the writing and I adored the world-building in this one too: the way Eliot's plotted this series, the Twilight mages curses, the political intrigues and the simple yet vivid high fantasy atmosphere, made everything even more special.
I obviously adored both leads. Both of them are chaotic gremlins, the silliest, horniest, most idiotic and dramatic disasters to ever exist: I laughed out loud so many times. Their banter never felt forced, and the underlying tension and frustration behind it made it 100 times better.
< “Was I face- up in your lap or face- down?” I demanded. “If I was face- down, then everyone saw my ass sticking up! It probably looked huge. Were you staring at it?”
His eyes widened absurdly, his mouth dropping open. From behind him, Leander made a sound I couldn’t quite identify. “I beg your pardon?” Enzo choked. “Last night you bent over and— were you— was I— fuck, I never should have kidnapped you.” Leander’s noises resolved into gurgles of laughter. >
I loved their dynamic so damn much, and I loved how hilarious both of them were in their own way. Like I said, they're silly and horny and quite possibly share a lonely braincell when it comes to thinking before acting and/or speaking, but I adored them. Their chemistry was fire, so damn piping hot, and I loved the steam SO. DAMN. MUCH. Eliot Grayson never fails.
I adored Cyril and his own dramatic, high-handed, flirty self, and I loved Enzo with his snark and his protectiveness.
< “Gods, Enzo, please! But not in the mud!” I cried desperately, as he yanked me closer. “Sometimes I think I don’t have the slightest idea what’s in that head of yours,” Enzo muttered, shoving me away again, already busy stripping off his coat, “even though you talk more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He laid his coat on the ground and spread it out. “There, Lord Fastidious. Get your pants off before I rip them off.” >
Like I said, I never wanted to leave.
I cannot wait to read book three: I have no idea who'll be next; or I might have an idea, but I have no idea what to expect. I do so wish Leander would be next though; I seriously doubt it, since these books are all standalones with very minor overlapping, but I'd gnaw my own foot off for him to be a Surprise/Secret Dawn Mage *prayer cicle*
Like I said, this is wishful thinking, and I'd read whichever book and couple Eliot writes next regardless. She's become one of my favourite authors ever, and I can't wait to devour whatever comes next.
I received an ARC from the author, and this is my honest review.
Content Warnings
Minor: Sexual assault