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Firevein: The Awakening
(Firevein Saga Book 1)
By Hanna Park
(Firevein Saga Book 1)
By Hanna Park
I went to Røros for a wedding—not to fall for a man
who looked at me like he had already mourned me once.
From the first moment Rurik touched me, something beneath my skin burned. Every kiss felt inevitable. Every glance pressed at the edge of memory. He says I’ve lived before, that I’ve died before, that he has loved me through it all. I don’t remember him—but the mountain does.
The tunnels beneath Røros hum when I pass. Runes flare in the stone. The deeper I fall into his arms, the more something inside me begins to awaken—hot, wild, and impossible to ignore. I was never meant to survive what should have killed me. Now something ancient is stirring, and I can’t shake the feeling that it’s because I did.
I have buried Cristabel in every lifetime—though she has worn different names.
Across centuries, I have found her and lost her to the curse my bloodline was sworn to guard. She was never meant to live this time—but she did. Now the fire in her veins is awakening too soon. The balance beneath the mountain is shifting, and the oath I have carried for generations is beginning to fracture.
I waited lifetimes to hold her again. This time, I will not let her go—even if saving her means unleashing what should have remained buried.
A steamy Nordic fantasy romance of reincarnation, fate, and fire.
Triggers: Female cancer survivor. Steamy open-door scenes.
You can find your copy over on Amazon and get this, it is free to read with #KindleUnlimited
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Oh look, a relaxing trip abroad (in which the itinerary includes an inconvenient magical awakening, a deeply persuasive immortal man, and a rapidly escalating series of encounters that are very much not about sightseeing).
Firevein: The Awakening is a bold, unapologetically sensual story of identity, power, and the rather immediate problem of discovering that your body may understand things long before your mind is ready to catch up.
I went into this expecting something along the lines of a contemporary fantasy with a romantic thread. You know the sort: a touch of magic, a mysterious stranger, perhaps a slow build toward something meaningful.
Instead, the book takes that expectation, gives it a brief and courteous nod, and then proceeds to dismantle it in a sauna.
Cristabel Johnson arrives in Norway for a wedding, which seems perfectly straightforward. Unfortunately, the trip also brings with it an awakening that is less about gentle self-discovery and more about intense, physical awareness—sensations that feel unfamiliar and yet disturbingly inevitable.
This becomes rather difficult to ignore when reality itself begins to shift around her.
Enter Rurik, who appears at precisely the moments when things become impossible to explain and then declines to explain them. He is patient, controlled, and entirely too aware of her—of what she feels, what she might become, and what she has been before.
Which, as introductions go, is not exactly reassuring.
Rurik approaches everything with a level of restraint that becomes more noticeable the further things escalate. He does not push—but he does not withdraw either. He waits, adjusts, and responds, allowing Cristabel to lead even when it is clear that he understands the situation far better than she does.
Cristabel, meanwhile, is attempting to make sense of an experience that is as physical as it is psychological. Her body reacts first—urgently, insistently—while her thoughts trail behind, trying to impose logic on something that does not appear to follow it.
This proves… complicated.
Most of the story follows her as she navigates this shift: the awakening itself, the fragmented impressions of something that feels like memory, and the increasingly undeniable connection to Rurik. Unfortunately, these are not separate developments.
They are, in fact, the same thing.
The deeper she goes, the clearer it becomes that this is not simply about attraction or even transformation. It is about a pattern—something that has happened before, something that carries weight, and something that does not come without consequence.
Rurik, for his part, becomes steadily less composed as the story progresses. His control remains, but it is no longer effortless. There are moments where something older surfaces—recognition, restraint, and the suggestion that whatever exists between them is neither new nor entirely safe.
Again, not ideal.
Their relationship develops with intensity rather than hesitation. This is not a story interested in polite distance or carefully measured emotional pacing. It is immediate, charged, and driven as much by instinct as by choice, with a constant undercurrent of something larger unfolding beneath the surface.
Which, given everything else that is happening, feels entirely appropriate.
The worldbuilding emerges through sensation rather than explanation. Magic is not laid out in tidy rules; it is experienced—felt through the body, through memory, through moments where reality itself seems to thin.
What I enjoyed most is how confidently the story commits to its tone. It does not shy away from the erotic elements or attempt to soften them. Instead, it uses them to drive both character and plot, tying physical experience directly to identity, history, and power.
By the time the deeper implications begin to surface, the emotional and narrative stakes feel fully earned.
Past lives, shifting realities, an attraction that refuses to be reduced to something simple, and a protagonist who is discovering that understanding herself may be as intense as it is unavoidable.
What can I say? This one starts with a wedding trip and very quickly becomes something far more consuming.
I had a thoroughly compelling time with it.
Hanna Park
I began my writing career in the pre-dawn of a winter morning while my husband snored like a train. We could call my husband the catalyst. If it weren’t for him, I would never have gone to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, feed the cat, and sit on the loveseat in front of the fire. It was there, in those moments of wondrous quiet, that I did something I had never thought possible. I opened my laptop, and while the coffee went cold, I wrote a story. My husband had no idea that these sojourns to the loveseat in front of the fire would become a daily occurrence, that writing would become an obsession, but the cat knew. She knows everything.
I write stories that make you laugh, make you cry, and make you love. Thank you, friends, for reading!
In the beginning, there was an empty page.
I am a writer who lives in Muskoka, Canada, with a husband who snores, a hungry cat, and an almost perfect canine––he’s an adorable little shit.
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