Son of the Morning

by Akwaeke Emezi

Genres: Romantic Fantasy; Erotic & Steamy Romance; Fantasy Romance; LGBT & Pride

Synopsis

From New York Times bestselling author Akwaeke Emezi comes a steamy paranormal romance set in the Black South—a bold new foray that takes us on a journey of magic and fantasy, from the whispering creeks outside the city of Salvation to the very depths of Hell itself.

Tenderhearted Galilee was raised by the Kincaids, a formidable clan of Black women sequestered deep in the weeping willows and dark rushing creeks of their land. Galilee has always known that she’s different—that there is an old and unknowable secret around her very existence. It has been a hollow ache inside her since her childhood, something she assumes she will always have to live with.

Until she meets Lucifer Helel. He’s fronting as the head of security for her wealthy friend Oriaku’s family, protecting a mysterious, ancient artifact, but from the moment she lays eyes on him, Gali knows he’s not human. From her first incendiary touch, Lucifer knows something even Gali herself doesn’t—that she isn’t human either.

Enter: Leviathan. As Lucifer’s most trusted prince of Hell, Levi is ruthless and determined to eliminate the intolerable danger that is Galilee before she brings death and disaster to those he loves. While unseen battles rage between Hell, Heaven, and earth, Lucifer and Galilee’s attraction threatens to bring all the structures of their existence crashing down around them.

Soon, loyalties will be shattered and reformed as Kincaid secrets clash with the princes of Hell, driving even the most powerful to their knees. Galilee Kincaid must decide if she will step into herself and embrace the consequences of power in this astonishing, seductive, and wildly original fantasy.

Release date: November 4, 2025

Publisher: Avon

Print pages: 311

Sample

Oriakụ was about to snap out another order when someone melted out of the shadows on their right, startling them all. Bonbon squeaked, and Gali did a double take because she could have sworn there was nothing there—no door, no hallway—just pools of darkness splashed on the walls and floor. She looked up at the stranger, and her brain nearly short-circuited. Her migraine squeezed at her skull.

God, he was beautiful.

His skin was a pristine dark walnut that seemed to almost glow, and when he turned his head to glance at the guards, Gali saw the hooked jut of his nose in profile. The stranger lifted a hand to brush a shadow off his black shirt, and he had those damn piano hands that were always Gali’s weakness, with the long, articulated fingers and singing tendons right under the skin. Coarse dark curls fell into his face and around his ears, kissing the collar of his black shirt, and his mouth was unforgivably wide and lush. He wasn’t visibly armed, but there was something about him that seemed intrinsically wrong, like he wasn’t really supposed to be here, like he was one step sideways out of this reality. Gali knew that feeling quite well. Her entire family had that strangeness to them, but it was much louder in this man and much, much more dangerous. He was displaced and he wasn’t happy about it.

Gali knew she was staring, soaking him up with her eyes, but she didn’t care. Bonbon leaned in. “Who the hell is that?” she whispered. “He’s fucking delectable.”

Oriakụ glanced over at her friends. “This is Helel,” she said. “He’s the head of the artifact security team.”

The stranger’s eyes flicked in Gali’s direction, and her knees almost gave out. He had the longest lashes she’d ever seen, and his eyes were so dark they seemed black. Shards of gold splintered in his irises, shifting in the light, and she thought she saw a glimpse of violent power before it was shuttered away. Her skin skittered over her body. He really did seem illuminated from within, radiating a light that animated the dim hallway they stood in. It wasn’t something Gali could ask the others to confirm, because she would sound crazy and she was trying very hard not to be that, not in Salvation, not this far from the Kincaid house.

“Can I help you with anything, Ms. Onyearugbulem?” the stranger asked Oriakụ. “Have your companions been cleared for this wing?”

Gali exhaled as the rolling heat of his voice curled around them. He sounded like a herald—the kind who sang down falling civilizations, who stood mad on a mountain as children burned. That voice… it scorched like both magma and a cold that could sear flesh off the bone, iron bleached soft at an unfathomable temperature. It licked against her like a spell.

“They don’t need clearances,” Oriakụ snapped. “They’re with me.”

The stranger’s face didn’t change in the slightest, but a haze of contempt oozed out from him.

A faint smile curved Gali’s lips, and she couldn’t help herself. “You’d like us to get on out of here, wouldn’t you?” she said, amused.

She wanted him to hear her voice, to look at her. She was Galilee Kincaid, and he was some kind of creature, and she wasn’t afraid. Her head was splitting apart, but she felt reckless and close to laughter. Gali gave in to it—“normal” was going to have to hold on for a second.

The stranger’s gaze swung to her and he narrowed his eyes, angling his body slightly in Gali’s direction. The stinging ache inside her made a leap for her bones and clawed through her marrow as it bloomed into wanting. Gali cursed silently, biting down on her lip. No, no, no, not now! She didn’t want her worlds to overlap, not like this. Her foreboding yelled that something heavy hung behind those carved wooden doors, and the damn migraine in her head wouldn’t stop. Gali took a step backward, clenching her hands to will them dark. The stranger’s eyes tracked to her mouth, and far away in the Kincaid forest, Celestial Kincaid giggled, standing shin-deep in water.

Did you find a toy to play with, Galilee?

This was what Nana Darling had warned her about, this treacherous amplification of her wanting, and if Gali had any sense, she would run far and fast away from anyone who could set this cascade off within her. She’d done it once before, years ago, when a girl with silver eyes had visited the Kincaid house from another powerful family and touched Gali so tenderly that Gali had wept from the force of the ache inside her. She’d avoided the girl for the rest of her visit and Celestial had scolded her for it, but then again, Celestial had no problem living madly with overlapped worlds. Gali wasn’t like her cousin. Gali could be exactly like her cousin. Possibilities swung in front of her like falling blades as she looked into the stranger’s fractured eyes.

“I don’t want you here,” he confirmed, his voice clipped. “The artifact is not on exhibition—”

“The artifact,” Oriakụ interrupted, a beatific smile on her face, “is not yours. I will show it to whomever I please, and if you have any issues with that, Helel, I suggest you take it up with my father. Are we clear?”

Everyone fell silent as the man turned his gaze toward Oriakụ. Gali flinched at the way the air changed, at the unexpected malevolence that suddenly swarmed around them, thick enough to block her throat and lungs.

“I don’t work for you,” he snarled. “Unless your father stands before me himself, the decision is mine. The artifact is not a toy you can show off to impress your entourage. If you have a problem with how I do my job, I suggest—as you recommend—that you take it up with your father.” ...