Laurell K Hamilton, Mistral's Kiss (Ballantine, 2006)
Merry Gentry, half-sidhe and potential heir to the Unseelie throne, is up to her eyeballs in trouble at the moment. She's currently engaged in a race against her twisted cousin Cel to determine who will ultimately take the throne, and it all hinges upon who can prove their fertility by conceiving a child first. Naturally, assassins and other threats have been popping out of the woodwork, and the current queen, Andais, isn't about to make it easy for anyone to win. Now Merry has a veritable harem of male suitors and guards, many of whom haven't known the pleasures of the flesh for centuries, and she has to juggle her varied feelings for the numerous men in her life, even as she tries to get pregnant. What's more, the sidhe are a much-diminished race, their powers all but gone over the centuries, and all that is changing rapidly as events are set in motion. Simply put, it would appear that Merry, descended from a line of fertility deities, is capable of restoring the power and might of the sidhe, enabling them to reclaim their ancient powers and personas. Once upon a time, the Fae were known as gods, of death, of healing, of merriment, of shadow, and much more. With Merry's influence, they might know this status again. And in Mistral's Kiss, over the span of several passion-fueled, magic-infused days, more of Merry's men will once again wield their power of old. The times, they are a'changing for the Fae.
Mistral's Kiss picks up very shortly after the end of A Stroke of Midnight, and follows Merry as she attempts to unravel the meaning of a peculiar dream, which has ramifications in the real world. As she awakens the ancient powers and roles of her bodyguards/suitors, they undergo several trials, one of which ties into the destiny of Sholto, King of the Sluagh. Ultimately, they're forced to deal with the Wild Hunt. And in between . . . there's lots of sex.
Surprised at how bluntly that was put? If you've followed the series this far, you won't be shocked to learn that once again, Merry has sex -- physical, magical, metaphysical, and metaphorical -- with a number of people. And as per the plotlines carried over from the first four books in the series, this sex is somehow bringing the Fae back to life, allowing them to reclaim some of their ancient majesty and godhood. It's a fascinating plotline, as Hamilton's done her homework, drawing from old Irish and Celtic myth to flesh out the various characters who populate her world and share Merry's bed. Hamilton's even found a way to make the sex essential to the plot, so you can't disentangle one from the other. And I'll grant you that the scenes are highly sensual, evocative and descriptive without passing the line into vulgar. I'll grant you that Hamilton is one of the finest writers of erotic fantasy around, commanding a superb grasp of the language that keeps the senses fully involved. But by that same token, you end up with a several hundred page long sex scene, broken up by brief periods of action and exposition. Poor Merry, no wonder she's exhausted. I find myself occasionally wondering what sort of highly-enjoyable story we could get if Hamilton was able to spend less time focusing on the carnal activities and more time upon the story that links them together.
The most curious thing about Mistral's Kiss, however, is its size. It's marketed as a hardback, but tops out at just over 200 pages, which strikes me as fairly thin, especially since previous installments in the series have tended towards twice that length. The time frame, as mentioned, is limited to a day or so, if not less, and while a lot happens to the characters in that span of time, the overall plot doesn't move too far ( i.e., Merry's still not pregnant, that we know of). It really feels as though this book could have been tacked onto the end of A Stroke of Midnight, or onto the beginning of whatever the next book in the series will be, rather than standing on its own. I'm tempted to wonder if they simply needed to get out a Hamilton book by a certain point. It certainly feels like an awkward interim installment.
Ultimately, I will admit that I greatly enjoyed Mistral's Kiss, but it's certainly not an ideal jumping-on point for new readers, nor does it really seem worth the price tag of a hardcover. Completionists and diehard fans will be pleased, undoubtedly, but if you can wait for paperback (or a good sale) there's no reason not to.
