While Brandon Sanderson takes a hiatus from the sprawling landscape of The Stormlight Archive to focus on standalone Cosmere novels and an AppleTV adaptation of his Mistborn saga, readers yearning for high-stakes, world-spanning fantasy have a new contender on the horizon. A fierce bidding war among eight publishers culminated in a seven-figure deal for a debut trilogy that promises to be the next major sensation in the genre.
Author Adalyn Grace, whose journey began as an intern for The Legend of Korra before ascending the New York Times bestseller list with her Belladonna and All the Stars and Teeth series, is now shifting her focus. Her adult fantasy debut, The Wretched Divine, launches this September and sets the stage for a dark, expansive new saga.
“To craft the narrative I envisioned, the world needed scale—a place rich with distinct belief systems, varied cultures, and, of course, a robust magic system,” Grace explained. “I drew heavily from my passion for immersive worldbuilding, particularly the level of detail found in Sanderson’s The Stormlight Archive.”
Set against the backdrop of an ancient celestial conflict, the series pits angels against demons—the latter serving as manifestations of the seven deadly sins.
“The concept of the seven deadly sins has fascinated me since I first encountered Fullmetal Alchemist as a child,” Grace added. “I was captivated by the moral complexity of characters like Greed and Envy. They were monstrous, certainly, yet possessed a haunting, undeniable humanity—a glimmer of what might have been, had circumstances taken a different turn.”
In this new trilogy, Grace explores themes of prejudice, faith, and fear, weaving together inspiration from anime hits like Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer, and the kinetic intensity of Attack on Titan. Below is an excerpt from chapter seven, introducing the angel Yuriel as he tracks a demon through a crowded feast.
She was a master of artifice.
The woman drifted through the banquet hall in a gown of crimson silk that pooled behind her like liquid wine. The room hummed with the scent of roasted meats and the flickering warmth of beeswax candles. Under the amber glow of the chandeliers, she moved with predatory grace, a sly smile playing on her lips as she surveyed the crowd for her next mark.
Her focus settled on a young noble lingering near an oak table heavy with delicacies. As she brushed past, she let her fingertips graze the edge of her goblet, offering the man a shy, knowing look that caught him instantly. Captivated by her allure, he excused himself from his companions, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
She laughed—a sound as cloying as honey—and leaned in to whisper something that kept him anchored in place, his wine forgotten, his senses dulled by the thrill of the moment. He had no idea of the malice lurking beneath the mask of a charming woman.
Fortunately, Yuriel was watching.
From the shadows at the room’s edge, the angel observed her every move. His eyes, cold and sharp as polished silver, tracked her through the opulent hall. Around him, the feast thrived in a cacophony of music, laughter, and noble debates, the air thick with the opulence of velvet doublets and embroidered silk. Yet, for all the pageantry, the tension of the hunt prickled against his skin.
He watched as she steered the man into a secluded alcove, her hand trailing possessively along his arm. The noble, lost in his desire, didn’t notice that his companion wasn’t human at all. Demons were adept at mimicry, but they almost always possessed a tell—a flick of a tail, a subtle shift in the eyes, or, in this case, wisps of hair that seemed to undulate like seaweed caught in an unseen tide.
Yuriel felt the shift in the air before he saw the strike. The demon’s nail, sharp as a blade, drew a thin line of crimson across the man’s wrist. It was time.
He drew his bow, blending into the ambient shadows. When the moment arrived, he loosed his arrow. The projectile struck home, and in an instant, the demon’s glamour dissolved, exposing iridescent lilac skin and curled, obsidian horns.
A “lustborn.”
Yuriel flared his wings, unleashing a burst of celestial Glory that brought the room to a sudden, silent halt. The revelers collapsed into a daze as he crossed the floor, his boots echoing in the sudden quiet. He reached the dying demon before the nobleman could grasp what was happening, shielding the man from the grisly sight.
Later, under the cold light of the moon, Yuriel buried her. His purpose was to excise these creatures from the world, yet looking down at the fallen demon, he felt only a hollow ache. He whispered a quiet prayer for her soul—a dangerous act of empathy for an angel of his station—before walking away, determined to keep his own heart from being labeled as weak.
Source: Polygon
