Book Title: Famine (The
Four Horsemen Book #3)
Author and Publisher: Sienna
Cover Artist: Reese
Release Date: August 25,
Genre: Dark M/M Paranormal Romance
Tropes: Second chance,
forbidden love, lovers to enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort
Length: 80,000 – 90,000
Heat Rating: 3 – 4 flames
It is not a standalone story. It
is the third book in the series and must be
read in order.
This book does not end on a
cliffhanger. It is a HFN as there is an overarching plotline that will conclude in book 4.
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
A fallen angel with a broken heart. The third horseman
who rejected him. A love that can destroy them both.
Punished for choosing love over faith, the Archangel of
Kindness emerged from a century of confinement enshrined in darkness, a shell of his
former self. Rejected by the very Being for whom he sold his soul, the last threads of his
sanity were stripped away. He is now Lucifer, the King of Hell.
Famine’s choices have only ever caused suffering for those
he loves. He struggles with guilt, blaming himself for what Lucifer has become. He’s certain
keeping his distance is the only way he can ensure Lucifer falls no further.
But together or apart, on the same side or not, it doesn’t
matter. They are forever bound, forced to endure a never-ending loop of anguish. Betrayed
and surrounded by new threats, they find themselves relying on each other while battling
their own demons. But soon a choice must be made: allow their love to destroy them both
or embrace it before the world ends.
Famine is the
third book in the Four Horsemen series. This book is not a standalone and must be read in order.
Content Warnings: Religious themes, extreme violence,
gore, and others.
Arachnophobia warning: There is also a dog-sized pet
spider named Paul who just wants to be loved.
This is a paranormal, second chance, lovers-to-enemies-
to-lovers, MM romance filled with snark and morally questionable characters. It ends with a
HFN and a mild plot cliffhanger.
Famine moved closer to Lucifer as though being drawn into his
orbit. Lucifer wondered if it was a conscious movement or if it was instinct. It was instinct for
him. Every fiber of him always wanted to be closer to Famine. He hoped—even
knowing how moronic it was to hope after every hand he’d been dealt—that
Famine felt the same. Lucifer needed him to. Needed him to want Lucifer with the same raw
need that Lucifer wanted him. It had to be mutual. This much longing and anguish and
palpable loss was too much for him to shoulder alone.
He savored any chance just to be in Famine’s presence—had
summoned the Horsemen for no other purpose than just to see him again. The
carnage of it was delectable, of course, but it was a pleasant bonus, not the aim. The mere
minutes Lucifer spent with Famine between years apart was agony, but every waking
moment was spent only in anticipation of them. Being this close to Famine and not touching
was the worst torture he had ever endured.
He couldn’t be alone in this. He couldn’t.
“These are only the start of the creatures that God has under
his command,” Famine continued. “If he’s choosing to let these loose, there’s no telling
“No,” Lucifer said. They all turned to look at him, and he gave
them a secretive closed-mouth smile. He did enjoy being the center of attention. And
making them wait.
He closed the remaining distance between himself and Famine,
pressing the tips of his fingers against Famine’s cheek. Famine’s light-blue eyes darkened,
and the sight of them heated Lucifer’s blood and made lust curl in the depths of his
stomach. He had never touched another after Famine, even after all this time. And he was
starved for the kind of touch that only Famine could gift him. That Famine had
been keeping from him.
“Sometimes,” he murmured, for Famine’s ears only, “I want to
peel the skin from your bones, make you hurt and bleed the way you make me.”
The heat in Famine’s eyes didn’t diminish from the words. If
anything, they darkened further, the pulse in his throat visible and tempting Lucifer to bite
down, to taste.
“It is never my intention to make you hurt.”
“You think intent matters?” Lucifer gripped Famine’s upper arm
and tugged him closer until their breath mingled. “When I lie broken and bruised and
aching for you, do you think I care about intent?” They would continue to hurt
each other for eternity regardless of intent.
“Get your fucking hands off him,” War snarled.
Lucifer didn’t move, his eyes flicking to where War was
pointing his sword at them. As though Lucifer was afraid of him. Lucifer feared no one. No
one but Famine, who had the power to destroy him. Who already had, too many times to
Famine lifted a hand to placate his brother. “It’s fine.”
Uriel rolled his eyes and turned from them, surveying the area.
“Tell us what you meant, Lucifer, or be on your way to do whatever it is you do when you
have no purpose.”
Lucifer stroked Famine’s cheek and then moved up to lightly
grasp the curls of his brown hair. He urged Famine forward and Famine followed, bending to
him and resting his forehead on Lucifer’s shoulder. Lucifer’s insides wobbled, pleasure and
joy singing in his veins at the instant, easy acceptance of his touch.
Lucifer breathed in deeply, his nose pressed against Famine’s
hair. It smelled like blueberries, freshly mowed grass, and a hint of lemon.
About the Author
Sienna Moreau is a dark MM
romance author who likes to let the darker side of life come out to play. If you’re looking for
morally grey characters, snark, mayhem and steamy situations then you’re in the right
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