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jessfrarec 's review for:
The Night Prince
by Lauren Palphreyman
What the actual fuck just happened here?! After Book 1 I went in thinking we were squarely in basic bitch territory and then this motherfucker crawled into my bloodstream and detonated every cell in my body. I am humming. I am feral. I felt every scrap of tension strung tight through every nerve ending — I didn’t unclench until the final word, and then I nearly detonated my Kindle into another dimension at the sheer audacity of book three not existing immediately.
A lot of the small elements of what I thought was good in the first book got absolutely ramped up to eleven here. The haunting Scottish Highland? Immaculate. The world-building and lore? Expanded and stunning. And the love triangle — oh god, the love triangle. I HATE love triangles. They’re usually my villain origin story. And yet here I am, see-sawing like a rabid toddler between Callum — pure, good, everything I should root for — and Blake, the shadow daddy chaos demon who has single-handedly dragged me back to the pits of morally questionable obsession. Lauren Palphreyman is a goddam witch.
And the hate for Blake is so tangible, so earned, and yet somehow also completely wrought with tension that burned with the fire of a thousand suns. Make it make sense. This is no Tamlin situation where the choice becomes increasingly obvious — this is dark, impossible choice energy that has my entire brain in shambles.
Like… who even am I? Where did my self-respect go? This book ninja’d its way into my psyche and scrambled the regularly scheduled programming. Good luck to the next book I pick up — it’s gonna have to drag me out of this hangover by my hair.
Is it perfect? Not quite — the middle dragged a smidge and got a little repetitive. But who cares. A piece of me is missing until that final chapter hits my eyeballs. I am unwell. Send help. Or more Blake content. Either works.
A lot of the small elements of what I thought was good in the first book got absolutely ramped up to eleven here. The haunting Scottish Highland? Immaculate. The world-building and lore? Expanded and stunning. And the love triangle — oh god, the love triangle. I HATE love triangles. They’re usually my villain origin story. And yet here I am, see-sawing like a rabid toddler between Callum — pure, good, everything I should root for — and Blake, the shadow daddy chaos demon who has single-handedly dragged me back to the pits of morally questionable obsession. Lauren Palphreyman is a goddam witch.
And the hate for Blake is so tangible, so earned, and yet somehow also completely wrought with tension that burned with the fire of a thousand suns. Make it make sense. This is no Tamlin situation where the choice becomes increasingly obvious — this is dark, impossible choice energy that has my entire brain in shambles.
Like… who even am I? Where did my self-respect go? This book ninja’d its way into my psyche and scrambled the regularly scheduled programming. Good luck to the next book I pick up — it’s gonna have to drag me out of this hangover by my hair.
Is it perfect? Not quite — the middle dragged a smidge and got a little repetitive. But who cares. A piece of me is missing until that final chapter hits my eyeballs. I am unwell. Send help. Or more Blake content. Either works.