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    TYRANT'S THRONE: Broken Hearts and Preposterous He

    The fourth and final book in the Greatcoats Quartet, TYRANT'S THRONE gives us everything we have come to expect from Sebastien de Castell: friendship, love, and humor; tragedy, betrayal, and sorrow; despair, madness, guilt, hope, determination, valor (and Valor), impossible odds, and preposterous heroics. It is by turns dark, suspenseful, exciting, heart-rending, astonishing, and, as always, brilliantly written in its entirety. To reveal the plot would do the book and the reader a disservice. Be assured that it contains everything we could want, including, of course, some things we do not. There are tears, and laughter. And yes, there is an end. Not to the world--de Castell's new SPELLSLINGER series is set in another, unfamiliar part of it. Not to the Greatcoats--he promises they will reappear at some time in the future, though they will be different, younger Greatcoats. Whoever they are, we know they will be fully-realized characters, with layers to explore and reasons for what they do, because de Castell does not create one-dimensional characters (even his horses have personalities). The end is to the story begun in TRAITOR'S BLADE. And with the end, there are new beginnings. Whatever he chooses to write, I look forward to it. But I will miss them. I will miss quiet, stoic Kest Murrowson, who drove himself to learn and do and be everything; who would accept nothing less than perfection from himself while accepting a great deal less than perfection from others; and who did all that he did only and always for love. I will miss brash, handsome Brasti Goodbow, whose achievements were unjustly ignored (just ask him); who could see a budding idea or hidden sorrow in the face of one close to him as readily as he could find a far distant target; and who wept as easily as he laughed and opened his great heart to anyone in need, because he knew what it was to be downtrodden and to suffer loss. Finally, I will miss magnificent, damaged, sorrowful, faithful, haunted, inspiring, ingenious Falcio val Monde, who loved a woman, a king, a young girl, and a saint; who bore the hope of his people, the guilt of his faults--real or imagined--and the remnants of a dying dream on his shoulders; who was not and could never be perfect (only Kest could be that); who had his heart repeatedly torn from his chest, yet always, always got up to fight and love again; and who would never believe that he deserved the many people who were willing--glad--to help him rise and heal and go on. If we are very, very fortunate, I hope we may someday see Falcio, Brasti, and Kest again. Until then, I intend to re-read TRAITOR'S BLADE, KNIGHT'S SHADOW, SAINT'S BLOOD, and TYRANT'S THRONE annually.  

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