My love for the work of Sylvain Reynard is no secret. The Gabriel series was one of my very first reads when I got into romance novels, and it remains a favorite to this day. Reynard is a unique voice in romance, blending art, literature, and culture with an all-encompassing love story.
The Prince remains true to that signature style. This prequel novella bridges the transition from the Gabriel series to the new Florentine series. And what a flawless transition it is. We’re once again taken to Italy, only now we’re delving into the underworld of Florence, a world not known to those who walk the streets above.
Being an introductory novella, there isn’t too much I can write about this book, as we’re all just learning of this new world, this book is all about setting the scene for what is to come. Trust me, though, this story is every bit as lush as beautiful as you’ve come to expect from Sylvain Reynard, even though we’re being drawn in to an decidedly un-beautiful world.
In The Prince, Reynard continues his literary seduction of the reader, drawing you into a story that is at once brutal and sublime.
I have a feeling that The Prince is a gentleman savage, and am so looking forward to seeing what he has in store for us in the Florentine series.
In the distance, the Prince could hear voices and muffled sounds.
He approached silently, almost floating across the floor.
Desperate groans and the rustling of fabric filled his ears, along with the twin sounds of rapidly beating hearts. He could smell their scents, the aromas heightened due to their sexual arousal.
He growled in reaction.
The corridor was shrouded in darkness but the Prince could see that the professor had his wife up against a window between two statues, her legs wrapped around his waist.
Her voice was breathy as she spoke, but the Prince tuned out her words, moving closer so he could catch a glimpse of her lovely face.
At the sight of it, flushed with passion, his old heart quickened and he felt the stirrings of arousal.
It was not his custom to observe rather than participate. But on this occasion, he decided to make an exception. Careful to remain in the darkness, he moved to the wall opposite the couple.
The woman squirmed in her lover’s arms, her high heels catching on his tuxedo jacket. Her fingers flew to his neck, undoing his bow tie and tossing it carelessly to the floor.
She unbuttoned his shirt, and her mouth moved to his chest, as murmurs of pleasure escaped his lips.
The Prince felt more than desire as he watched the woman’s eager movements. He caught a glimpse of her exquisite mouth and the toss of her long hair that would no doubt feel like silk between his fingers.
She lifted her head to smile at the man who held her close and he could see love in her eyes.