Infernal Frequencies
Infernal Frequencies
4.75 / 5.0
(4) 4 total reviews
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Some signals aren't meant to be heard.
A sensory-virtuoso heroine. A bisexual Fallen still hollowed by centuries-old grief. A triad love story about whether someone who's loved before can love again — in whatever shape that takes.
Los Angeles audio engineer Luna Cross is a touch-genius mixer, a synesthete, and a sensory-defended recluse — the kind of person who can hear a frequency three rooms over and can't bear to be touched without warning. When she finds a non-human, biologically-shaped signal embedded in a major label's new album masters, she also finds the truth: it's a weaponized mind-control vector aimed at every set of headphones in the country.
Raziel — Angel of Mysteries, the LA-based Fallen, bisexual, still grieving the human partner he lost three centuries ago — pulls her into the FRU's investigation. The case threads through possession, broadcast-scale mind control, and a New Orleans detective named Jake Morrison whose latent abilities make him the third axis in a bond no one was looking for.
Perfect for readers of J.R. Ward, Nalini Singh, and Larissa Ione's Demonica series.
You'll devour this if you want:
- A neurodivergent-coded sensory-virtuoso heroine
- A bisexual hero with three centuries of grief and zero apologies
- A genuine triad love story (M/F/M) earned across the arc
- Music-industry intrigue braided with angelic warfare
- Queer-inclusive worldbuilding that isn't tokenized
The Fallen Response Unit, Book 2. Standalone HEA; reads stronger after Shadow Protocol. Open-door explicit. Heat tier 4. M/F and M/F/M on-page. LGBTQ+ inclusive.
Tropes: fallen-angel romance · triad / M/F/M · bisexual hero · synesthesia heroine · mind-control plot · music industry · supernatural procedural · bonded.
Content warnings: mind control, brief passive suicidal ideation, PTSD, crowd violence, music-industry exploitation. Author note: bisexual hero and queer ensemble — if that is not your reading, this is not your book.
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I stayed up all night to finish this book it is awesome loved raziel and Luna story I am going do read the rest of this author book highly reccomened
I was hooked from the beginning. I really enjoyed the chemistry between Raziel and Luna! And I love it when you have cameos from previous characters from books in the same series/universe. I appreciate the authors diligence in researching the technical aspects of sound recording. However, I felt like skipping parts a lot because it was TOO technical when it didn't need to be so detailed. With that said, it did not ruin the book for me. I thoroughly enjoyed it!
Luna Cross doesn't have magic powers. She has synesthesia, a mixing console, and the kind of ruthless technical competence that made me want to stand up and applaud. When a weaponized frequency starts turning LA concert crowds feral, she's the only person on the planet who can hear it. The magic system is built entirely on real sound engineering — frequencies, harmonic resonance, subsonic weapons hiding in subwoofer cabinets — and it works because it feels grounded.Then there's Raziel. Six-foot-three of Fallen angel who hasn't touched anyone in eighty-three years. His first great love was a man — a composer he lost in 1943 — and that grief drives his entire arc. His bisexuality isn't a footnote. It's woven into his bones. When Luna walks into his frequency range at five-foot-one with combat boots and sound wave tattoos, his entire body comes back online. The way Maynard writes his surrender — not as weakness but as a deliberate choice to be defenseless — wrecked me.The size difference should be illegal. The found family is phenomenal (a Nephilim painter, a Fae who texts in emoji, a gremlin in a twelve-step program). The spice is explicit, emotionally earned, and hits like a freight train
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ If J.R. Ward wrote a Fallen angel who hadn't been touched in 83 yearsI need everyone to understand what S.D. Maynard did to me with Raziel.Six-foot-three. Violet eyes. A jawline a Renaissance sculptor would weep over. Eighty-three years of self-imposed exile, sleeping above a dead studio, drinking bad mezcal, and refusing to let anyone close. Then a five-foot-one sound engineer with combat boots grabs the front of his jacket and his entire body comes back online after eight decades of nothing.This has the same raw, visceral heat as early Black Dagger Brotherhood — the heroes built like weapons who shake apart when they finally let someone in. Raziel doesn't just surrender. He chooses to be defenseless, and watching this ancient, dangerous being tremble because a tiny woman touched his face? I put my Kindle down and stared at the ceiling.The size difference is relentless. His hand spans her entire waist. She stands on fire escapes to reach his jaw. Every intimate scene carries the weight of eighty-three years of walls coming down — explicit, devastating, and earned.He also learned to make her coffee exactly the way she likes it. In a matte-black gooseneck kettle. While pretending it was purely tactical.I am not okay. Five stars.