Felicity Heaton's Blog, page 16

November 30, 2014

Manday Hotties – Hot New Mancandy for you to devour

Good Monday Morning! It’s time for the Manday Hotties Hop! I have some yummy new mancandy pictures for you… check out these hotties…

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Which shot is your favourite? Going with #1 today

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View more on Felicity Heaton's website »

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Published on November 30, 2014 21:32

November 29, 2014

Snippet Saturday – Hunger (Vampires Realm romance series book 8) – Excerpt

Snippet Saturday is brought to you today by my paranormal romance book Hunger, which is the 8 book in my popular Vampires Realm romance series. Read on for this Saturday’s snippet…

“You can’t make me do this, and you know it.”

The black-haired man leaning against the table opposite Eve in the dimly lit empty nightclub folded his arms in response to her outburst, his dark eyes glittering with ice, a look she was coming to know as a sign he wouldn’t budge on his decision.

Eve growled at him and cut the sound off in her throat when her fangs began to drop, turning her stomach, reminding her what she had become.

“I’m not going.” She mimicked him by folding her arms across her chest, squashing her breasts together beneath her plain charcoal t-shirt. “That’s final.”

“Eve,” he whispered softly and unfurled his body, pushing to his feet in a graceful effortless move. His broad shoulders shifted in a silent sigh beneath his black shirt and he reached for her, his expression softening and the ice in his impassive eyes melting. “It is for the best.”

It wasn’t, and he knew it. He knew how she felt about what she had become, and her so-called family. She wanted no part of it, not even for her sister’s sake. Lilith had become the ruler of the Vehemens bloodline and the same vampire blood ran in Eve’s veins because of the man towering before her.

“It isn’t.” Eve rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the ache in her skull, the constant buzzing that was only growing louder. Soon, it would become something else, something darker and more sinister. A hunger for blood. She tamped it down, using everything she had taught herself over the years since her inadvertent turning, suppressing her sick desire to feed.

“Eve?” He was closer now and she didn’t tense as his hand came down on her left shoulder, holding her gently and offering a modicum of comfort. “Are you unwell?”

She shook her head and pulled herself back together. She had quickly discovered after her rescue by the man before her that he would do all in his power to make her take blood if he thought she required it. Not by force. Not as the betrayer had done. No. This man employed a more devastating tactic.

Guilt.

Eve raised her head, looked up into the endless depths of his dark eyes and gave it one last shot, because he wasn’t the only one who could employ guilt as a weapon. “Father, please.”

He hissed and released her as if she had burned him with those words, and turned his back on her, shoving his fingers through the long lengths of his black hair as he paced away. She sensed his agitation and kept still, unwilling to risk inciting his wrath when she was weakened by hunger, even when she knew he would never lay a hand on her. Her vampire instincts were strong though, overwhelming at times, commanding her to obey them even when she despised the things they made her want to do.

Like attack humans and steal their blood.

Whenever those instincts pressed her, she pushed back, using all of her willpower to deny them. She had never allowed anyone to make decisions for her, believed that no one and nothing should have control over her life, and that extended to her wretched instincts. She was stronger than the monster inside her, the demon she had become. She would never embrace it. She had a final mission, and once it was done, so was she.

“Eve,” he said, his voice pained and low, and turned to her, his handsome face twisted in lines of desperation. The ragged burn scars down one cheek and side of his neck pulled taut as he growled, flashing long white daggers at her, and his eyes flared crimson. “Do not think this does not hurt me too. I do not want you to go… but you must understand… Lilith needs you, and you need Lilith. I have tried… by the Devil I have tried to make you see sense but you refuse!”

Eve recoiled as he barked the words at her, his anger pouring from him in violent waves that rocked her. She had pushed too far again and, although she had inherited his temper, in a battle of wills he would win.

Pain surfaced in his eyes as he hissed an oath and looked beyond her to the main entrance of the nightclub.

“It is for the best.”

Eve had the terrible feeling he was giving up on her, and the small fragment of her that wanted to survive and somehow embrace this dark new life, to continue to live with her real family, ached in response.

She took a step towards him and his gaze swung to her, the fathomless agony and sorrow in it bringing her up short and turning the ache into a throbbing pain.

“I’m not ready.” The lie came easily, slipping freely from her tongue. How many times had she lied to Oneiric already?

She had no intention of embracing her new life as a vampire. It was too hard for her. She had been born and raised a hunter, one of the best at Section Seven where she had lived with her sister. For most of their lives, they’d had no idea that their unknown mother had given them their father’s DNA through genetic manipulation.

Eve had uncovered the information one night but had failed to grasp the magnitude of what it meant for her and Lilith, and had kept it to herself.

Oneiric had explained that Lilith had found out about it while she had still been human, working for Section Seven, and had met her mate, Lincoln, who was another Vehemens vampire.

Eve had found out the full consequences of their mother’s tampering the even harder way. She had been betrayed and killed, and had risen from the dead as a pureblood vampire.

She wrapped her arms about herself and squeezed hard as a chill came over her, freezing her to her soul.

“Eve.” Oneiric crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. It was impossible to resist leaning into his hard chest and resting her cheek against the cool wall of muscle beneath the soft black cotton shirt. Waking as a vampire had been confusing and painful enough, but discovering that Adam had betrayed her had hurt like hell, and the torture that had come afterwards, the years of pain and fury…

She shuddered and Oneiric rubbed her back.

“Do not think about it, little one.” He often called her by the pet term, even though she railed at him about it most nights, telling him that she was a grown woman and not a child.

She hated that he treated her as if she were a child, something fragile and weak, unable to fend for itself.

But at the same time, she loved it when he doted on her, when they spent the night talking about his life and hers before she was turned, and he told her things about her mother. Then, she accepted the pet term, savouring having one parent in her life and being able to know her other one through him. During those quiet times, she felt close to him and at ease with herself, finally knew what it was like to have parents, and she knew it affected Oneiric in a similar way.

Vampires couldn’t procreate, and Oneiric had admitted to being shocked when he had discovered that he had fathered twin daughters, and that he was still coming to terms with it.

He was gunning for father of the century in her opinion. Not only had he helped her sister save Lincoln, her mate, but he had saved Eve too. He had moved Heaven and Earth to find her and bring her home with him, and it touched her more than she could express in words.

That protective, fatherly streak in him was the reason he wasn’t going to give up and let her have her way. He wanted her to go home, to their bloodline’s home, to a mansion filled with vampires.

Eve pulled down a deep breath as her throat tightened in response to the thought of being surrounded by hundreds of vampires and exhaled it slowly. “Don’t make me do this. Let me stay here a little longer.”

Oneiric drew back and cupped her cheeks in his palms, tilting her head up so her eyes met his. “Will you feed then?”

She shook her head. “You know I can’t.”

“Then you know I can’t either. I cannot allow you to go on like this, slowly killing yourself. Lilith will be able to make you see sense.”

Sense.

Sense to Oneiric was hunting humans and feeding from them. It was listening to the call of the night and embracing all that it meant to be a vampire.

Sense to her was hunting her betrayer, Adam, and repaying him in kind.

If Oneiric sent her to Oslo, to the Vehemens stronghold where Lilith reigned with Lincoln, her chance at revenge would slip through her grasp.

She couldn’t stop now. She was close. She knew it.

If she told Oneiric of her desire to hunt and kill the bastard who had betrayed her, it would only make him send her to Oslo sooner. He would want to protect her and would place her safety above satisfying the hunger that drove her.

She could flee him, but that would only cause him and Lilith pain, and he would come after her.

She could spin another lie and say she would make her own way to Oslo, but someone was already on their way to collect her and take her there. They had received word from Lincoln about it five hours ago, at sunset, and had been arguing ever since.

Fleeing was beginning to look like her only option.

A bolt of awareness shot down her spine and she stiffened. Oneiric tensed too and lifted his head. Crimson fire flickered around the edges of his dark irises.

“We have company.” The note of warning in his deep voice said it wasn’t her escort.

Eve grabbed the two large hunting knives on the round black table close to her and reached out with her senses, scouring the area around the club. People were coming. Close to a dozen of them.

Vampires.

The double doors of the main entrance burst open, the heavy steel panels crashing into the walls on either side, allowing a rush of cold damp air to bring tangled unfamiliar scents to her. Behind her, another bang sounded as the back door of the club shot open. Male voices poured into the darkness.

Four ahead of her and seven behind.

She took a deep breath to steady herself and flexed her fingers around the grips of the short blades to stop them from trembling. It wasn’t fear making her hands shake. It was hunger. It gnawed at her insides and clouded her mind, dampening her senses and stealing her strength. She almost started to wish she had taken the animal blood Oneiric had offered her on waking tonight, but she had been so angry about being shipped off to Oslo that she had refused.

“I will handle the back,” Oneiric said and then he was gone and she was alone in the dimly lit room, only a dozen tables and chairs between her and the four advancing men.

Eve cursed her weakness and shifted her booted feet, adopting a stance that was second nature to her, preparing for the fight ahead.

The vampires emerged from the darkness, golden eyes flickering with hunger as they landed on her and lingered.

Weaklings.

The same breed of bastard that had killed her.

A growl curled up her throat and she launched herself forwards.

Did you enjoy today’s snippet?

Hunger

Felicity Heaton

Betrayed by one of her own and turned into a vampire, hunter Eve is consumed by her hunger for vengeance and has spent five years surviving hell, driven to take the life of the man she once loved. But just as she is about to close in on the hunter-turned-vampire, an event is set in motion that threatens to see him slip beyond her grasp forever—the leader of her bloodline has sent an escort to bring her to the family’s mansion. To a nest of the very creatures she once hunted and loathes.

A vampire assassin hardened by centuries of service, Tor is a man of discipline and loyalty, never straying from his mission or the rules set out for him, and has purged all his weaknesses, including his emotions.

But the moment he meets the broken, fiery female he is to escort to Oslo, something dangerous awakens in him, something possessive and powerful, and when he is pulled into a deadly game of cat and mouse with the man who betrayed her, Tor discovers he will do anything to protect the woman slowly claiming his heart and give her the vengeance she desires—even break all the rules.

Can Eve embrace her new vampire nature in order to have her revenge and find a reason to live again in Tor? Can Tor and Eve stop the man who betrayed her and the deaths of thousands of innocents? Or will he succeed in creating a new army of hybrid vampires who will rise up against the purebloods?

NOTE: This book can be read out of order with the rest of the series and acts as a standalone vampire romance novel

Available in e-book from:

Amazon Kindle | Amazon Kindle UK | Amazon Kindle Germany | Amazon Kindle Canada | Amazon Kindle Australia

Apple iBookstore US | Apple iBookstore UK | Apple iBookstore Australia | Apple iBookstore Canada | Apple iBookstore New Zealand

Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | All Romance eBooks | Google Play

Available in paperback from:

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Barnes and Noble | Amazon.ca

You can get your hands on the first book in this series, PROPHECY: CHILD OF LIGHT, for FREE right now on selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo, Nook and Apple iBooks Stores. Find out more at my Paranormal Romance Ebook Offers page.

If you haven’t had a chance to read any of the books in the Vampires Realm romance series yet, they’re all available at major ebook retailers and some are available in paperback, and you can find the links and samples of the books at my website:

View more on Felicity Heaton's website »

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Published on November 29, 2014 03:39

November 25, 2014

Teaseday – Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel romance series book 7) – Excerpt

Today’s tease comes from the paranormal romance book Her Avenging Angel, which is the 7 book in my popular Her Angel romance series. Read on for this Tuesday’s tease…

Nevar beat his black wings and swooped lower over the inhospitable obsidian basalt fields. Heat rose from the glowing orange cracks where lava had broken through, creating a pattern of deadly veins across the land. As far as he could see all around him, it was the same, an endless grim plain that would be impossible to traverse on foot.

Had the destroyer come this way?

He rubbed his jaw as he flew. It still ached from the blow the Devil had personally delivered. A punch that had sent him flying across the black courtyard of the Devil’s formidable fortress and crashing into the obsidian spires of rock that formed a sweeping curve around it.

His leg burned with the memory too. The damned spires were still repairing themselves after the battle that had taken place there several months ago, spewing lava from their broken tips and slowly climbing high into the thick acrid air. When he had struck the wall, his impact had created a fissure and lava had bled through, singeing his right thigh before he could escape it.

He growled, grinding his teeth, his head filled with black thoughts, dark desires to head back to the fortress and punish every Hell’s angel who had been present for his humiliation. The minions of the Devil had paused at their work to repair the courtyard flagstones and had laughed as he had suffered. His fangs lengthened as he pictured tearing into them with claw and tooth before silencing them with his blade and sending them back to Heaven to be reborn as angels of that realm.

They would learn not to laugh at him.

Nevar beat his wings and huffed, giving up the pleasing images and tempting thoughts. If he returned to the fortress, the Devil would kill him. He had threatened to do as much when he had banished Nevar from his sight for a period of seven days.

He wasn’t sure the Devil would come good on the threat to kill him, since he had warned Asmodeus and his cohorts to keep him alive at all costs as he was now the Great Destroyer’s master, but he wasn’t willing to risk it. The Devil had a temper and was liable to lose his head and butcher him, and then regret it afterwards. He had seen the powerful male kill the commander of the First Battalion, the best of the Hell’s angels under his command and a male the Devil had treated like a son, all because he had lost his temper over a bet the commander had won.

What made the whole thing more stupid in Nevar’s eyes was that the bet had been the birth date of Erin’s son, the Devil’s grandson.

The Devil had lost, and had taken his commander’s head for it, and had clearly regretted it afterwards when golden light had engulfed the angel’s body, taking him back to Heaven to be reborn. Nevar had been glad that he hadn’t been included in the bet, and Asmodeus had smiled smugly. The bastard had chosen a date weeks beyond the one his master had selected, ensuring he couldn’t possibly win the bet.

Nevar definitely wasn’t willing to risk his neck by returning to the fortress in order to dish out some vengeance on the Hell’s angels.

Hot air buffeted him and he swerved right, away from the broad expanse of lava river ahead of him. He would have to go around it. His gaze tracked the snaking glowing ribbon in both directions. Impossible. It stretched as far as his eyes could see, illuminating the darkness far into the distance.

He sighed and beat his wings to keep himself steady in the warm thick air.

His stomach growled, reminding him once again that he had forgotten to get something to eat when in the mortal realm.

He couldn’t fly for much longer without feeding and he was damned if he was going to plummet into a pool of lava and get himself killed and sent back to Heaven.

They had scoured Hell for the beast. There was no sign of it.

Had it hidden itself in one of the thousands of caves that dotted the immense landscape of Hell?

He opened a line of telepathic communication with Asmodeus. No sign of it in this direction.

None in this one either. Came the reply.

It was still strange being able to do this with Asmodeus. He had always been able to communicate with other angels of Heaven via telepathy, but had lost that talent when Asmodeus had contracted with him. He had thought the talent gone forever, until recently, when he had been cursing Asmodeus in his head and the angel had heard it and responded.

Asmodeus had never experienced telepathy before that point.

To say it had freaked his master out a little was an understatement.

Any idea at all where it might have gone? Nevar said and heard Asmodeus huff in his head.

The angel wasn’t pleased with his master, the Devil. The Devil had been vague when they had questioned him, eventually admitting that he had no information on where the beast might go.

Yet he’d had the audacity to punish Nevar and Asmodeus for not finding it the first time they had scoured Hell and had sent them back out to look for it again.

His stomach gurgled again, twisting in on itself so hard that he grimaced and rubbed it. He couldn’t concentrate, not with the constant pressing presence of his hunger. It was a weight in his gut that he could no longer ignore.

Maybe we should check the mortal world. It was worth a try.

No response.

I am starving. I am liable to drop into a boiling pit of lava or expire from lack of sustenance alone. You have orders to keep me alive.

Asmodeus grunted in response to that. Very well. Scour the mortal world for the beast and I will send word to Apollyon, and he can alert the others to the situation. Eat while you are there.

Nevar grinned, threw his hand out and cast a portal directly in front of him. He flew through the swirling black vortex, unwilling to linger for even a second in case his master changed his mind. He had a pass and he was taking it.

He landed in the middle of London, on a quiet broad street that bustled with mortals during the day. The rain-soaked pavements and road reflected the lights from the closed stores that lined the road. He stretched and focused to put his wings away. They shrank into his back, aching as they went, slow to do his bidding tonight. It had been weeks since he had used them and it had felt good to fly again. Their reluctance to disappear was his reluctance to see them gone for once. If his stomach had been full, he would have kept flying, taking in the mortal world from the air.

It was as empty as his master’s heart though and he needed to fill it and refuel before he could fly anywhere.

The mark on his chest pulsed, sending fire sweeping over the curve of the beast. He pressed his hand to his breastplate and grimaced, waiting for the pain to subside. When it did, he felt a glimmer of something that distinctly felt like fear.

Fear?

He frowned at that. Perhaps it was his fear. Fear that Asmodeus would come for him again. Fear that he would spend forever trapped in Hell. Fear that the Devil would kill him and send him back to Heaven, to his worst nightmare. Although, he wouldn’t remember what a nightmare it was to him. He would forget everything the moment he died and was reborn as an angel of Heaven. He would forget how Heaven had used him.

He drew in a deep breath and focused on the mark on his chest. Where was the destroyer? If it was awake now, could it sense him? Did it know he was its master? If he stayed in one place for long enough, would it find him and save him from having to search for it?

He still wasn’t sure how such a gigantic beast could elude him and Asmodeus, and the Hell’s angels the Devil had dispatched to hunt for it too.

Unless it wasn’t in Hell.

He had goaded his master into letting him come to the mortal world so he could escape the constant torment and stench of Hell, feeding him a lie about the possibility of it being in this realm. What if it was here though?

There were many remote places on the planet where it could hide.

And it was a big fucking planet.

Nevar groaned. Was he doomed to spend the rest of his life flying around trying to locate the damned thing before it destroyed the world?

If he had to cover an entire planet, he was going to need a serious amount of fuel.

He kept his hand over the mark and pondered where the destroyer might be as he walked the familiar path down the warren of alleys towards Cloud Nine. Despite its grotty and often grim appearance, the club served some of the best food he had eaten in centuries. Full fat, full flavour, bad food. The sort mortals viewed as a future heart attack in the making.

Angels viewed it as superfood.

Fuck those greens and shoots and berries.

Meat oozing with flavour and fat was angelic superfood.

He knew angels who swung the other way when it came to their choice of superfood, preferring the high sugar content of cakes and sweets. Asmodeus was definitely one of those angels. The male could devour a whole chocolate gateaux in one sitting, and he had heard Liora mention in passing that his twin, Apollyon, could do the same.

Nevar could devour a whole spit-roasted pig.

His hand dropped to the bare patch of stomach between the edge of his chest plate and the slats of armour that protected his hips and he rubbed it, his mouth filling with saliva at the thought of the pulled pork buns and chicken wings that the club served.

Fuel up and head out. Do not linger. Do not drink. Understood?

Nevar growled at Asmodeus’s voice in his head and mentally flipped him off.

His master had no faith in him.

That was the plan… and it still is the plan. He severed the connection between them before Asmodeus could respond and turned down the alley that would bring him to Cloud Nine.

He stopped and frowned. The sign was off and there was no queue of mortals, but the club was open. What was going on? Only one way to find out. He walked towards the door.

The bouncer acknowledged him with a jerk of his chin and he pushed past the huge demon male and stepped into the club.

The lights were on inside, the colourful ones above the bar bathing the area and the demons milling around along its length. No music though.

No mortals.

His gaze sought the female he had met before, although he wasn’t sure why. It had been days since his last visit. She would be long gone, and it was stupid of him to hope that she would still be around, or remotely interested in him.

He headed for the bar, his eyes still scanning the demons for the woman even when he told himself to let her go and shove her out of his head.

A blonde cut into his path, her hands firmly planted on her hips, pale against her red jeans. A flicker of darkness danced in her eyes. Her stance caused her chest to jut upwards, showing off ample cleavage in her low cut black camisole. She narrowed her gaze on him and looked as if she was about to lose her pretty façade, revealing the hideous monster that lurked beneath her skin.

The boss.

And she was pissed about something.

He scanned the club again, frowning as he noticed that the demons present were jittery too, disturbed for some reason. Had something happened?

If it had, he wasn’t sure why the boss was holding him responsible, and the intense glare she was giving him said she definitely thought it was his fault.

“Do something,” she snapped, sharp teeth flashing between her glossy red lips, and flicked her short hair away from her face.

He arched an eyebrow down at her. “I don’t follow. What is your problem?”

She turned and pointed, and the crowd parted.

Nevar’s jaw almost dropped.

The female was there, curled up and sleeping on the grimy black bar top, naked again.

But not exposed.

Dark leathery wings wrapped around her slender form, cocooning her.

His feet moved of their own accord, carrying him across the room to her, unable to resist the powerful pull he felt towards her. The demons stepped back, making more room and allowing him and the boss to pass and approach the female.

What was she?

Did you enjoy today’s tease?

Her Avenging Angel

Felicity Heaton

Once a proud angel of Heaven, Nevar is now a servant of Hell, bound to a new master—the King of Demons. Consumed by darkness and driven to seek revenge, he set in motion a series of events that awakened the Great Destroyer, a force that will bring about the apocalypse. Now, he is the creature’s master and the fate of our world rests in the hands of an angel with only darkness in his heart.

Lost in the mortal realm without any recollection of how she came to be there, Lysia is only aware that she has survived a great battle. When she stumbles into a demon bar, she finds more than a chance to discover what happened to her—she finds a dark and deadly angel warrior who stirs fire in her veins and awakens soul-searing passion she cannot deny.

With the mounting threat of the Great Destroyer, the forces of Heaven and Hell against him, and a band of dangerous angels intent on capturing Lysia on his heels, can Nevar protect the beautiful woman who is light to his darkness and find the strength to save the world?

Available in e-book from:

Amazon Kindle | Amazon Kindle UK | Amazon Kindle Germany | Amazon Kindle Canada | Amazon Kindle Australia

Apple iBookstore US | Apple iBookstore UK | Apple iBookstore Australia | Apple iBookstore Canada | Apple iBookstore New Zealand

Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | All Romance eBooks | Google Play

Available in paperback from:

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk

You can get your hands on the first book in this series, HER DARK ANGEL, for FREE right now on selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo, Nook and Apple iBooks Stores. Find out more at my Paranormal Romance Ebook Offers page.

If you haven’t had a chance to read any of the books in the Her Angel romance series yet, they’re all available at major ebook retailers and in paperback, and you can find the links and samples of the books at my website:

Her Dark Angel (Her Angel Romance Series #1)

Her Fallen Angel (Her Angel Romance Series #2)

Her Warrior Angel (Her Angel Romance Series #3)

Her Guardian Angel (Her Angel Romance Series #4)

Her Demonic Angel (Her Angel Romance Series #5)

Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series #6)

Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series #7)

View more on Felicity Heaton's website »

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Published on November 25, 2014 04:15

November 23, 2014

Manday Hotties – Sexy New Mancandy Pictures

Good Monday Morning! It’s time for the Manday Hotties Hop! I have some yummy new mancandy pictures for you… check out these hotties…

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Which shot is your favourite? I’m feeling arty and liking #1 today

Visit the other blogs in the hop:

View more on Felicity Heaton's website »

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Published on November 23, 2014 21:32

November 22, 2014

Snippet Saturday – Her Demonic Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 5) – Excerpt

Snippet Saturday is brought to you today by my paranormal romance book Her Demonic Angel, which is the fifth book in my popular Her Angel romance series. Read on for this Saturday’s snippet…

The gorgeous warrior followed behind her, a dark shadow barely a few feet from her, his footsteps almost silent.

They reached a split in the corridor and Erin paused. Neither of the avenues she could take looked inviting. Both were pitch-black and voices came from one. Or was it the other? Everything echoed in the corridors and it was hard to distinguish which would lead her to a grisly death and which would lead her to freedom.

She chose the right.

The man grabbed her around the waist from behind, twisted her in his arm, and slung her over his shoulder.

Erin struggled and his arm tightened against her back, causing his thick shoulder to press into her stomach. Her organs protested, sharp pain lancing each one.

“You’ll fall off. I need to move fast and you’re slowing me down.”

Well, that was just rude. Erin punched his backside. God, it was like a rock. She almost purred. Could this man get any smexier?

“You can’t carry me and fight your way out of here.”

He laughed, the warm timbre of it echoing around the dark walls. “Believe me, Sweetheart, I can fight with both hands tied behind my back. You’re no hindrance at all.”

He jogged down the left corridor with her, each step jolting her on his shoulder until she felt close to losing what little remained of the last thing she ate. Erin grabbed his leather belt, hooked her thumbs into the waist of his jeans and pushed herself up enough that it didn’t hurt as much as he ran.

This was just embarrassing now.

It was bad enough having her rescuer belittle her.

Having him carry her fireman-style to freedom was making her wish he had left her in her cell.

Warm fresh air assaulted her, as fresh as Hell got anyway, and she looked up to see the huge black walls of the prison fortress bouncing away from her.

“You can put me down now,” she said but he didn’t hear her. Either that or he was ignoring her. She was tempted to punch him on the backside again but gave up and let him have his way.

The jagged towers of the prison slowly wobbled into the distance and were lost from view behind the spires of black rock that lined the path her hero had chosen. Vents in their sides and tops belched hot acrid smoke that stole her breath. She pulled his black t-shirt up, exposing a lean delicious back, and covered her mouth with it. How the hell could he run in this?

Erin wanted to be sick.

She counted the bounces in his step to keep her focus off the horrendous smell of rotten eggs invading her lungs and the increasing number of bleached bones that lined the path as though someone had kicked the bodies out of the way and just let them rot there. Or perhaps some smaller creature had picked the bones clean. There were grooves in some of them, as though sharp teeth and claws had scraped them. Erin hoped it had happened after death and that the screams still ringing in her ears weren’t the death cries of people being eaten alive.

The man managed over three hundred steps before he finally stopped and set her down with surprising care in a wide clearing.

“Are you alright?” He held her at arm’s length, looking her over.

Her blood heated when his dark eyes lingered on her breasts and then the tiny shorts she wore.

“Do you always dress like this?” He raised an eyebrow.

Erin folded her arms across her chest, covering her breasts. The black pebbles of the path cut into the bare soles of her feet. “I was in bed when they took me.”

He ran his gaze over her again and a touch of crimson ringed his dark irises.

Erin took a step backwards.

That had to be a reflection of their fiery surroundings. It had to be.

Mr Tall, Dark and Deadly couldn’t be something straight out of Hell.

He frowned at her feet. Erin gasped as his large hands settled on her waist and he lifted her onto a relatively smoother rock on the side of the path.

“I didn’t anticipate this.” He rubbed his stubbly jaw and crouched before her. His hands were gentle as he lifted one of her feet and inspected the sole, his thumbs pressing in and sending a warm jolt up to the apex of her thighs.

She placed one hand on top of his head to steady herself and tried to resist the sudden desire to comb her fingers through the long crimson lengths of his hair.

She had dated a few men with long hair in the past but none of them had dyed it the colour this man had chosen. It was like blood.

“I like your do,” she said with a smile. “It’s pretty cool.”

He frowned up at her. “Do?”

“Your hair.”

His frown intensified. “We are trapped in Hell and you are discussing my hair?”

“I have to do something to take my mind off the fact that I’m trapped in Hell. What dye do you use?”

The man straightened and even when she was standing on a rock, she was still shorter than he was. “It is not dyed.”

“That’s natural?”

“If you would like, I can prove it to you.” His smile was nothing short of salacious and he reached for his belt. “The carpet matches the curtains.”

Erin blushed and grabbed his hands to stop him from going ahead and flashing her. He looked as though he really would go through with it and while the thought of seeing every inch of this man nude was appealing, it couldn’t stand up to her greater desire to escape.

The man shrugged and then did something that really challenged her ability to think straight and focus on escaping.

He removed the leather contraption that held his sword to his back, reached over his head and tugged his black t-shirt off, revealing a body so perfect that it would make angels weep. Every inch of lightly bronzed skin stretched taut over granite hard muscles. They shifted in a sensual symphony as he easily tore his t-shirt into two pieces. Her gaze ambled over him, ignoring her commands to focus on anything other than his godly form, then he upped the stakes and it was game over.

He crouched again and bent over her feet, giving her a glorious view of his strong back and the detailed red and black tribal tattoos that swept up his thick arms and down his shoulder blades. They curled there, skirting identical ridges of scar tissue.

Erin leaned forwards as he finished wrapping one of her feet in half of his ruined t-shirt and started on her other. She swept her fingers along the wide dark scar that slashed up his left shoulder in line with his spine.

The man was gone in a flash, standing several feet away from her and breathing hard.

“What the fuck?” he snarled and Erin flinched, her hand still poised where his back had been. “Don’t touch me. Understand?”

“I’m sorry… I just saw the scars and wondered what had happened to you.” She hated that she couldn’t get her voice above a whisper and that she couldn’t look at him. Shame burned her cheeks. So much for her insane thoughts about paying back her glowering saviour with some naughty time when they made it out of Hell.

Erin stared at her feet. He had done a nice job of covering them with his t-shirt. She supposed she should thank him for coming to save her and for not doing the whole thing with her slung over his shoulder, leaving her feeling weak and pathetic. Maybe she should just ask him to point her in the right direction and she would find the way out on her own. Her gaze shifted to his sword where it lay on the ground. On second thought, he was armed and if she ran across some of those demons, he might be able to fend them off or even kill them.

“Thank you for coming for me. I owe you my life,” she said and finally managed to find the courage to look him in the eye again.

He casually shrugged his wide bare shoulders. “You own me nothing. I’m only here because Amelia would have come if I hadn’t, and if she dies then that’s my life over.”

“Oh.” Erin’s gaze ate basalt again and her cheeks scalded, her burning heart heating them. He was with Amelia. That made sense in a strange way, although it only left her with more questions about why Amelia knew about Hell, what the Devil wanted with her and how she had met this man.

A man who had taken her place, risking his life to save Erin so she didn’t have to.

Erin stepped down from the rock, feeling as though someone had just popped her favourite balloon. She knew she should feel happy that her sister finally had a man in her life that had a noble and good bone in his body but she couldn’t muster the emotion when jealousy was riding her.

Her amber eyes met his dark ones but she couldn’t hold his gaze. It fell to the ground again. She didn’t want to look at him anymore. The blood staining his face and the harsh cuts across his bearded jaw and neck did nothing to dampen his feral handsome looks.

Erin envied Amelia for having him in her life.

“I want to keep moving.” She started off without him, following the winding path that was surrounded by black jagged rocks and bleached bones and stretched into an equally dark and bleak distance.

Erin was beginning to hate black.

The man easily caught up with her in a few long-legged strides and fell into step beside her, his broadsword strapped to his back again. He cut an imposing figure as he strolled along beside her, his air casual yet throwing off a lethal don’t-even-try-it vibe.

She wanted to give him the silent treatment but it had been days since she had spoken to someone and he was currently her mind and heart’s favourite subject. She wanted the goods on this man, every juicy bit of them.

“So… were you a captive here once too and that’s why you know your way around?” That question hung in the air between them.

His lip curled, revealing a flash of straight white teeth, and he frowned.

Clearly, he was still pissed at her for touching him. Well, sorry. She couldn’t have stopped herself if she had tried. She still wouldn’t be able to if she so much as glanced at the scars that he had evidently tattooed around, as though they were central to the design.

He was silent a few seconds longer and then looked down at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

Erin walked on a few paces, towards a long sloping drop into a valley below. She glanced down, seeing that the path she was on turned a corner ahead and continued close to a hundred feet below her.

He finally spoke. “You could say that I’m local.”

That unnerved her, especially when coupled with the bright crimson that flared in his dark irises, a corona surrounding his narrowed pupils.

Erin stepped away from him, backing towards the edge where it was rocky and the stones were loose underfoot. Her gaze darted down to the path far below her. Her footing was poor where she was but she didn’t want to be near him until she was sure it was safe. She would sooner risk falling than being within his reach.

He frowned at her and then at her feet, and held his hand out to her. “Come away from the edge.”

Erin shook her head.

If he was something terrible, then she was going to hit the slope, slide down to the path below and make a break for it. She would probably cut her bare legs up but it was better than being tortured by a demon. Had he only rescued her so he could toy with her and hurt her? Was this just another trick after all?

Her sister would never associate with something demonic and evil.

“Do you work for the Devil?” Erin shuffled backwards. His dark eyes flicked to her feet and then back to her eyes, and he stretched his hand closer to her, an impatient and concerned expression on his face. The Devil could change his appearance. This man had a voice that could melt her and so had the Devil. They were one and the same. “Are you the Devil?”

He laughed. “Hell, no. I’m not that evil. Do I look like I go around getting manicures between torture sessions?” He sighed and smiled at her. “I swear to you, Erin. I’m not here to hurt you… and I will keep you safe. Trust me?”

“No, I don’t trust you. I don’t even know you… you say you’re local but you don’t work for the bastard who held me captive, and you expect me to believe that shit?” She edged further away from him and he frowned, his eyes narrowing and expression switching to one of irritation. Anger flared in his eyes.

He growled, low and vicious, and the flecks of red in his eyes brightened. “I expect you to believe it because it’s the truth. I hate the bastard who kidnapped you, and would like nothing more than a chance at separating his head from his body. I’m risking my neck to save you and you dare accuse me of being the one loathsome creature I despise above all others?”

Erin backed off another step as he advanced one, until the balls of her feet hit the slope. Her heart thumped out a hard rhythm against her breastbone and blood rushed through her ears. His gaze locked on hers, challenging her to accuse him again, to voice any belief she still had that he was unworthy of her trust. She trembled and stared up into his eyes, searching them for a sign that he was lying to her.

His anger seemed genuine, born of hatred for a man that she too despised and disgust at being compared with him. He couldn’t blame her for being cautious though, surely? After everything she had been through, it was only natural for her to think everyone in this horrible place was out to get her, and he had admitted that he was a local.

The man backed off at last, the anger in his eyes melting away together with the red, leaving his irises dark. He sighed, his shoulders heaving with it, grimaced and rubbed a hand over his face.

“What am I supposed to say to make you believe me?” he whispered and met her gaze again. “Tell me that, Erin. I’ve trekked through Hell to find you, have fought and killed to reach you, have carried you and tended to you. I’ve risked my life to save you. Doesn’t that make me worthy of a little trust? You think I want to be here?”

No, she didn’t. He had mentioned more than once that he was risking everything by being in Hell, by saving her, and she felt terrible for doubting him.

He held his hand out to her again. “I swear to you, Erin, that I mean you no harm and I am here purely to rescue you and reunite you with your sister. Will you trust me to do that? Can you trust me?”

Erin’s better judgement said not to but she slipped her trembling right hand into his and stepped away from the edge. She looked up into his eyes. They glowed red around the edges again and in the centre too, highlighting his wide pupils. His gaze locked with hers and rocked her with a jolt that reached her soul.

“What’s your name?” she whispered, captivated by his eyes and lost in them. They had more power over her than the Devil’s had. She wanted to stare into their flaming depths for all eternity.

“Veiron,” he husked, his warm breath caressing her face, and Erin’s senses came alive, lighting up like an electrical storm. His masculine scent of dirt, aftershave and fresh sweat filled her nostrils. The warmth of his hand clasping hers heated her right down to her bones. The sound of his voice made her blood burn to hear him speak again. Her gaze delighted in discovering every tiny fleck of fire in his dark irises. The only sense left was one that cried out for a taste of him.

She might be losing her mind, but she knew without a doubt that she wanted this man regardless of what he was.

He was the most dangerous man she had ever met and he belonged to her sister, but there was something about him, something sensual and powerful, deadly and alluring, that she couldn’t resist. He had the smile of a demon, the body of a god, and the tenderness of an angel when he let his guard down.

Her captivity had been a nightmare.

But travelling through Hell with this man at her side was going to be a worse form of torture.

Did you enjoy today’s snippet?

Her Demonic Angel

Felicity Heaton

A demonic angel with a heart of ice, Veiron walks a dark path with vengeance on his mind. Nothing will sway him from his mission to destroy his master… until he risks his life to enter Hell once more to save a mortal female. The fiery beauty makes him burn with hungers he must battle and needs he cannot deny, tempting him to surrender body and soul to her.

Erin is convinced her refusal to do the Devil’s bidding will see her die in a terrifying realm straight out of her nightmares. The last thing she expects is the lethally sensual warrior who breaks into her cell and awakens the darkest desires of her heart and a fierce longing to know the heat of his caress.

Pulled into an incredible world where war is set to ignite and darkness is on the rise, Erin races with Veiron to escape the Devil’s legions in a journey fraught with danger and filled with passion that flares white-hot.

When Erin is faced with a life-shattering realisation and an extraordinary destiny, will their love give them the strength to battle both Heaven and Hell or will they be parted forever?

Available in e-book from:

Amazon Kindle | Amazon Kindle UK | Amazon Kindle Germany | Amazon Kindle Canada | Amazon Kindle Australia

Apple iBookstore US | Apple iBookstore UK | Apple iBookstore Australia | Apple iBookstore Canada | Apple iBookstore New Zealand

Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Smashwords | All Romance eBooks | Google Play

Available in paperback from:

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Barnes and Noble | Amazon.ca

View more on Felicity Heaton's website »

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Published on November 22, 2014 03:27

November 18, 2014

Teaseday – Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 6) – Excerpt

Today’s tease comes from the paranormal romance book Her Wicked Angel, which is the sixth book in my popular Her Angel romance series. Read on for this Tuesday’s tease…

“Come, we must move.” Asmodeus scooped her up into his arms and beat his wings before she could even form a response, taking off into the crisp night air.

It was getting chilly.

Liora used it as an excuse to cuddle up to his bare chest and was thankful he only had partial armour. It was much nicer curling up against hard hot flesh than it would have been rubbing against cold metal plates.

“You’re going to be in trouble, aren’t you?” she said and the breeze carried her voice over his shoulder.

He beat his shadowy black wings and took them higher, until they were gliding above the city and she couldn’t take her eyes off how beautiful it was. All the lights twinkled in the darkness and cars streamed down streets forming bright slashes of red and white. Boats caused the wide river to glow in places. The Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance.

“Perhaps,” he whispered and she felt his gaze shift to her, boring into the side of her face. “But I have a feeling that you may be worth it.”

She smiled at that. How could anyone think this man pure evil? She had only had to speak to him to know that while he held darkness inside him, and was capable of great cruelty and violence, there was still some good in him, hidden away beneath the vicious exterior he wore like a shield.

She turned her head to look at him but he moved his gaze away from her, looking down at the city as they flew over it instead. She drank him in, studying the nuances of his expression as his golden gaze flitted around, taking in the scene stretching below them. The wind ruffled his wild black hair and she ached to brush her fingers through it, combing it back and feeling its silkiness just as nature was allowed to do.

“Will the Devil send more men for me?” She feared the answer to that question even though she already knew it deep in her heart.

The black slashes of his eyebrows met in a frown and his golden eyes darted to her. “Yes.”

“Will you fight them?” Her voice trembled and she hoped he would think it was the wind that caused it, not the fear growing in her heart. She had never been this afraid before, had always faced things head-on and without flinching, even as a child. The thought that the Devil wanted her for some nefarious reason and had sent his best man to retrieve her, marking her as important to him, made cold steal into her veins and sent a shiver through her soul.

Asmodeus hesitated and something surfaced in his eyes, something that set her on edge. He looked uncertain.

Over a year ago, Serenity had called and told her that they had to cancel their get together because something had happened to Apollyon. Heaven had exercised its will on him and had controlled him, forcing him to do their bidding against his will, and it had shaken the powerful male.

If Heaven held that power over Apollyon, did that mean Hell and the Devil wielded it over Asmodeus?

“I will try.” He looked away again, the sombre note to his deep voice and the fraction of his emotions that she could sense with her power conveying that he meant it but he didn’t believe he would be able to defeat whatever force the Devil sent after him.

All the more reason to ask Apollyon and Serenity for help, but she still couldn’t bring herself to raise it with him, not while everything felt so tentative and liable to fall apart if she mentioned the other angel.

“Perhaps you would be safer away from me.”

Liora stared at him, shock rippling through her. “No. I’m safer with you.”

“Do not fool yourself, Liora. I feel your fear. I thrive on that emotion. It gives me pleasure as much as anger and rage, and pain.” His voice gained a dark edge that echoed within his power and she frowned when she realised what he was doing. He was driving a wedge between them. He meant to make her leave. “You are safer away from me.”

“I am safer with you. If anyone has the power to protect me, it’s you, Asmodeus.”

“Or Apollyon. He would be the better choice. He is always the better choice.” The darkness in his voice turned to bitterness that she could feel lacing his power and she held on to him.

“How do you know he’s the better choice for me? Isn’t it my choice?” She glared at him now and then it faded away when she caught the tiny almost imperceptible grain of fear hidden beneath his other emotions.

Fear that he would fail her?

Or fear that he would end up doing as his dark master commanded and would hurt her?

He thrived on seeing others hurt and their suffering. He was afraid that the Devil would make him harm her and that he would end up enjoying it. She had thought the Devil would be sick and twisted, but this was taking sick and twisted to a whole new level.

“Asmodeus,” she whispered and he looked at her, his beautiful golden eyes void of any warmth. She wished she could touch his cheek and reassure him somehow, but she didn’t want to loosen her grip on him when they were so high above the city. “You will not fail me.”

He looked away again and uncertainty filled his eyes for a brief few seconds before they cleared again.

“Apollyon will not fail you. I am only a shadow of that male.”

It struck her that he was having one serious existential crisis and she was in part to blame for it. Her careless words when they had first met had dealt blows and wounded him, and now he couldn’t shake the doubts that she had placed in his head. She wished she had the ability to turn back time and relive that moment all over again with the knowledge she had now, but even she wasn’t that powerful.

All she could do was try to smooth things out and heal the wounds she had unwittingly inflicted with her words.

“You’re not a shadow… not any more than I’m a shadow of my cousin. She’s so damn good and caring, and I’m reckless and wild, and liable to go off demon hunting without telling anyone, and I’m forever getting into scrapes. Everyone tells me I should be more like her… but I’m not her. We share blood but we’re not the same person. We couldn’t be more different.” Liora leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering with her lips against his cool flesh.

He paused, beating his wings to keep them steady in the night air high above the glittering lights of Paris.

“You won’t fail me, Asmodeus. I’m choosing you,” she whispered against his skin and then settled her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to rebuff her.

He didn’t.

She looked down at the quiet world below them.

“Do you like the view?” she said to fill the silence.

“It seems alien to me… bright and colourful… strange… unsettling.” He didn’t sound as if he liked it. “Hell is a black cavernous ceiling above a forbidding harsh landscape. Rivers of molten lava and lakes of fire provide the only natural light. It is… different to this world. You would think it bleak, desolate and dangerous.”

Everything Apollyon had told her it was.

She frowned and looked at Asmodeus. “Then you’ve never seen the stars?”

His golden gaze drew away from the world below them and rose to meet hers. “No.”

“Will you take me somewhere?”

He nodded. “Where?”

Liora bravely took one hand away from his neck and Asmodeus’s grip on her increased, drawing her closer to him, filling her with a sense of safety that felt strange considering he was apparently made of pure evil. She didn’t think a male with nothing but evil in his heart would care much about whether she fell to her death or not. A male who was only evil and nothing good would have laughed as she fell and ensured he was close enough to get a good view when she splatted against the pavement.

She pointed to the distance, to the darkness beyond the city boundaries. “Take me out there. Take me to the stars.”

Did you enjoy today’s tease?

Her Wicked Angel

Felicity Heaton

The King of Demons and the Devil’s right hand man, Asmodeus is a dark angel born of evil and created for destruction. When his master orders him to venture into the mortal world and retrieve a female for him, he seizes the chance to leave Hell for the first time, uncaring of what the Devil has planned for her… until he sets eyes on the most beautiful woman he has ever seen—a female who awakens new feelings within his black heart, unleashing passion so intense that it controls him and desire he cannot resist.

He will not let his wretched master have her. She will belong to him.

Liora is a witch with a bad reputation and an obsession with fighting demons. A mission gone wrong sees her sent to Paris to cool off, but when a dark and deadly warrior with a gaze of golden fire lands in her life, she ends up burning hotter than Hell for the wicked angel. Nothing will stand between her and the immense, forbidding male. Not her cousin. Not Asmodeus’s sworn enemy and twin, Apollyon. And certainly not the Devil.

Caught up in a tempest of danger and soul-searing passion, can they survive against the odds and seize their forever after?

Available in e-book from:

Amazon Kindle | Amazon Kindle UK | Amazon Kindle Germany | Amazon Kindle Canada | Amazon Kindle Australia

Apple iBookstore US | Apple iBookstore UK | Apple iBookstore Australia | Apple iBookstore Canada | Apple iBookstore New Zealand

Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Smashwords | All Romance eBooks | Google Play

Available in paperback from:

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Barnes and Noble | Amazon.ca

View more on Felicity Heaton's website »

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Published on November 18, 2014 04:13

November 16, 2014

Manday Hotties – Blue Jeans Mancandy

Good Monday Morning! It’s time for the Manday Hotties Hop! I have some yummy new mancandy pictures for you… check out these hotties…

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Which shot is your favourite? I’m not good at obeying so I’m going with #2!

Visit the other blogs in the hop:

View more on Felicity Heaton's website »

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Published on November 16, 2014 21:32

November 15, 2014

Snippet Saturday – Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel romance series book 7) – Excerpt

Snippet Saturday is brought to you today by my paranormal romance book Her Avenging Angel, which is the 7 book in my popular Her Angel romance series. Read on for this Saturday’s snippet…

“You fight naked?” Nevar waited for a reaction to that, sure she would laugh at him.

She nodded. He looked her over again, recalling her curves and how they had inflamed him. Still inflamed him.

Fighting naked would certainly give her an advantage over a male opponent, but it provided no protection for her too.

“I can highly recommend armour.” He regretted it the moment it left his lips and she looked down at his, making it clear that she could see straight through his glamour to his real appearance. Her eyes danced over every piece of it, studying it so closely that he squirmed under the scrutiny.

He had loved his armour once, when it had been blue edged with silver, the colours of a guardian angel, and his wings had been stunning silvery-blue.

His contract with Asmodeus had turned it obsidian edged with violet and had corrupted his wings, turning them as black as Hell.

He could do nothing about either of them, no matter how deeply he wished he could.

So he kept his wings hidden so he didn’t have to see them and did his best not to look at his armour. He had once considered giving it up and disposing of it somehow, but it provided protection, and he didn’t think he could fight like the delicate-looking female currently staring in absorbed fascination at him.

Naked.

Maybe he could fight naked with her.

His body stirred at that wicked thought and he shifted on his stool, hoping she wouldn’t notice. She would probably toss him across the room if she did.

Telekinesis.

He would give anything to have that power.

Where did she come from? She wasn’t mortal. She wasn’t angelic. He didn’t think she was demonic either.

She was something else.

And she was beautiful.

And he was sober again.

He didn’t care. Not right now. She had all of his focus, fascinating him with every little thing she did.

She sipped her blood.

Except that.

His stomach cramped, his fangs itched, and his hunger rose like a demon within him.

He breathed through it. In for five. Out for five. He didn’t need blood. In for five. Out for five. He was stronger than his hunger. The cramps subsided. He exhaled slowly, silently congratulating himself for successfully working through another attack, just as Liora had made him promise he would do. Some ridiculous thing she had called positive affirmation.

The female lifted the glass back to her lips and took another slow sip that painted them red and made him hunger to kiss her.

The darker needs lurking within him gave positive affirmation the finger and seized control, crushing his will to resist before he could muster it.

He tried to back off before he jumped on the female and stole the blood on her lips. The backs of his thighs snagged on the leather of the stool seat, and he fumbled in an attempt to remain upright. His left arm shot out, catching all the glasses on the bar and sending them flying as he fought for balance.

The female stared at him and cocked her head to one side.

He growled at her, dug his claws into the bar and dragged himself up, leaving deep grooves in the black wooden top. The shadows swirled higher, curling over his biceps and twisting around his thighs. His fangs lengthened and he ground his teeth, desperately seeking some calm so he could centre himself or whatever the fuck Liora had called it. His eyes blazed violet, burning in his skull as the skin around them bled into darkness.

His shoulder blades itched, his wings pushing for freedom.

Nevar snarled and buried his claws deeper into the bar top, clinging to it as he fought the change, refusing to give into it. It would pass. He just had to breathe.

What he really needed to do was let this hippy shit go and rip the heads off everyone who was now staring at him as if he was a one man freak show.

Including her.

He fixed his gaze on her.

Not including her.

Calm came over him like a cooling balm as his eyes met hers, washing through him and chasing back the darkness enough for him to get a grip on it and shove it back in its place, under his control. He breathed slowly and steadily, willing to try the hippy shit again because he had to admit it did work most of the time, and mentally apologising to Liora for doubting her methods, and everyone in the bar for wanting to tear their heads off and drink from their gushing necks.

The woman stood studying him still, her head canted to one side, a curious edge to her gaze.

“You have a sickness,” she said.

He nodded. “I brought it upon myself… and so I must conquer it myself too.”

She hopped back up onto her stool. “Why do you deny what will make you better?”

She held the glass out to him and he shot backwards, hit the stool, lost his balance and toppled over it. To add injury to insult, he landed hard on his knees and cracked his chin on the seat, and a few people nearby snickered at him, including Villandry.

Nevar shot Villandry a glare filled with intent that he knew the vampire would clearly read. One more laugh out of him and Nevar would make him intimately acquainted with something wooden and pointy.

“I’m sorry.” The woman drew the glass back to her, clutching it to her chest between her breasts.

He grimaced, clawed his way back onto his feet, and huffed as he sat down. “Blood only makes it worse. Vicious cycle.”

She drank the rest of the glass in one go, set it on the bar and pushed it behind her, where he couldn’t see it. He appreciated that. It was better than shoving it in his face and taunting him with it as she had a minute ago. She toyed with the belt of her robe, an awkward edge to her body language, and Nevar surmised that he wasn’t the only one having trouble not making an idiot of himself tonight.

Her head jerked up, her eyes leaping to his, and she blurted, “What are you?”

Nevar leaned back, caught off guard by her question and unsure how to respond. “I was wondering the same thing about you.”

Her smile bewitched him. There was a touch of innocence in it. Purity that he found alluring, as if she could cleanse him and make him good again. Impossible. The only way he could be good again was to die and be reborn as an angel of Heaven, and he had no intention of letting that happen. Heaven had tampered with his memories, controlling his actions. They had taken his free will from him. He would never return to that place and that life, under their control and unaware of how they played their angels like pawns, erasing memories when it suited them, keeping them in order.

“I don’t know what I am. Perhaps I am like you,” she said, luring him back to her, and he frowned at what she had said.

He shook his head. “Impossible. I was an angel, and now I am a demon, and not by choice.”

She played with the belt of the robe again, her black eyebrows dipping low and darkening her hazel eyes. “If you had a choice, would you still be an angel?”

He pondered that. “I would want to be an angel again to extinguish the evil inside me, but I have no desire to serve Heaven again. I want to serve no master.”

She stared at her knees, her gaze distant and her fingers paused against the material. She was still for so long that he grew concerned and leaned towards her without thinking, reaching one hand out.

She spoke before he could lay it over hers, her tone solemn and edged with pain, and he froze.

“I despise angels.”

He sat back and settled his hand on his bare knee instead. “Why?”

She frowned and he expected her to bite out something, and then her expression turned troubled and he sensed the panic rising within her. Her eyes slowly widened, her eyebrows creeping upwards, and she shook her head.

“I cannot remember.” Her gaze leaped to his and her breathing quickened. “I cannot remember.”

He could sympathise. He had been there himself, unable to recall events that people told him had happened and he had been involved in. He reached out and touched the robe covering her shoulder, his focus on the wound beneath.

“Did angels do this?”

She snarled and smacked his hand away, and shot to her bare feet. She shoved him in the chest and backed off, her eyes wild, filled with fear that flowed over him together with her power. It rose, growing stronger and pressing down on him. The colourful lights in the club flickered.

“I don’t remember,” she whispered on repeat and clawed at her hair, drawing the long black strands back from her face, tugging at them. “I want to remember.”

A light above the bar shattered, raining blue glass down on the black top.

Everyone stopped to look at her and she shook her head, curling into a ball.

Nevar did the only thing he could to get their eyes off her.

He caught her right wrist, pulled her between his thighs and wrapped his arms around her. He cupped her head with his left hand and rubbed the small of her back with his right.

“Breathe,” he murmured into her hair, closing his eyes as he felt her trembling. She smelled like dew, fresh and clean and earthy. Pure. The scent of a cool summer morning.

She sucked down one breath and then another.

“Slower.” He stroked her back, cursing himself for enjoying the feel of her pressing against him. “In through your nose and out through your mouth. Breathe like you’re filling your lungs up from the bottom. Nice and slow.”

He couldn’t quite believe he was spouting Liora’s hippy shit to his beautiful stranger.

She seemed to be embracing it though, and it seemed to work for her just as it did for him. Each slow breath she took had her power falling, the weight of it lifting from his shoulders. She released her head and pressed her palms to his breastplate, and a foolish part of him wished he wasn’t wearing his armour so he could feel her delicate hands on his flesh. Her breath skated across his arm.

“I know a little about forgetting things,” he said in a low voice destined for her ears only and kept stroking her back. He couldn’t stop himself now. She was soft and warm beneath his calloused palm. Tempting. “It can get a little too much to handle at times. You just have to breathe.”

She nodded, exhaled, and pushed back from him. A sense of loss immediately engulfed him as she slipped from his arms, placing some distance between them, and straightened her robe.

He lowered his hands to his knees and searched for something to say, trying to come up with something that would make him look good. Something reassuring. Women liked that sort of thing.

She swept her hair out of her face and lifted her chin, looking him straight in the eye. “What do they call you?”

“They call me many things, and most of them not complimentary.” He smiled at her formal way of asking. She leapt between antiquated and modern so much that he was going in circles trying to figure out how old she was. He held his hand out to her. “But you can call me Nevar.”

“Nevar,” she whispered and he liked how his name sounded when it fell from her lips, spoken in her soft voice, edged with warmth.

She reached out to take his hand.

A black vortex appeared off to his right. Asmodeus stepped out of it, his expression stormy and dark, relaying his anger, and his golden eyes locked on Nevar like a hawk’s on prey. The portal shrank and Asmodeus advanced, the crowd parting for him. Every demon here knew of his master. It was impossible to mistake him for anyone else as he towered above them, his short black hair and golden eyes matching the Devil’s, and his partial gold-edged black armour in place, protecting his hips and shins, and leaving his chest bare.

“The King of Demons,” the woman whispered with the same reverence as she had used to speak Nevar’s name and stared at Asmodeus with wide eyes that were a little too adoring for Nevar’s liking.

Asmodeus paid her no heed, which spared him from Nevar’s wrath.

He seized Nevar’s wrist and dragged him off the stool, and Nevar fought him, clawing at his hand to get it off him. He was damned if the bastard angel was going to drag him around and command him in front of the female, belittling him.

“You will return to Hell, Nevar,” Asmodeus said, the compulsion behind the words sinking claws into Nevar and dragging him downwards, towards that realm.

He wasn’t strong enough to fight Asmodeus or his commands when he was weak with hunger, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

He attempted to pull his arm free of his master’s grip but Asmodeus tightened it, digging claws into his flesh and spilling his blood. He fought him every step of the way as they headed towards the exit. The female left the bar and followed, her gaze darkening by degrees.

“I will not go with you,” Nevar snapped. “I will not return. It is time you did your duty.”

Asmodeus yanked on his arm and sent him barrelling through the open door. He hit the damp tarmac and snarled over his shoulder at Asmodeus. The wretched angel would pay for that.

Asmodeus loomed over him.

The female stopped a short distance away, hovering near the entrance to Cloud Nine.

Nevar fought the change that threatened to come over him and the need to fight Asmodeus burning inside him. A need that would never die. He growled and flashed his fangs at Asmodeus. The male stood his ground and glared at him, his lips compressed into a thin line and his arms folded across his bare chest, as Nevar rose to his feet.

“You will return to Hell, Nevar.” Asmodeus’s deep voice echoed around the walls, drawing a few glances from the mortals in the queue for Cloud Nine.

Nevar shook his head, but he wasn’t answering his master. He was answering the dark hunger inside him, the vile need to surrender to his urges and act on his impulses. He refused. He wouldn’t give in to them, not while the female was watching him.

He hated that part of him and how he felt when it emerged.

Not just the way he changed psychologically, craving violence and bloodshed despite not wanting to feel such things. It was the physical changes he underwent that really sickened him. The claws and the fangs, and how his skin turned the colour of shadows, and most of all the horns that made his skull feel as if it would explode as they emerged.

Asmodeus cast a black portal and the female’s eyes darkened and she bared her fangs, her deadly gaze pinned on his master now.

Was she going to attack him?

Asmodeus didn’t give Nevar the chance to find out. He shoved Nevar into the swirling vortex and he landed in Hell, on the black plateau on which Asmodeus’s ruined fortress stood, high above the rest of the barren basalt wasteland.

He landed hard but was on his feet in an instant, rushing back to the portal, a sliver of him filled with hope that the female would step through the vortex too.

It shimmered.

He waited.

Asmodeus stepped through it and the swirling black ribbons evaporated.

Nevar growled and cursed him in the demon tongue.

His master gave him an unamused look. “You are drunk. I have a way to sober you up.”

Nevar straightened, forgetting his desire to correct his master and point out that he wasn’t drunk, at least not on alcohol. Perhaps he was drunk on the female, intoxicated by her beauty and innocence. All of that fell away though, drowned out by what Asmodeus had said and his overwhelming reaction to it.

All angels suffered from intense curiosity and he was no exception.

Asmodeus folded his arms across his broad chest and crimson bled into the edges of his golden irises, a sign of the anger that laced the incredible wave of power that swept over Nevar, battering him fiercely enough that he had to plant one foot behind him to keep himself steady.

“I sensed you leave Hell and went to the chamber after dealing with the Devil on your behalf.”

Nevar took a step towards him, a trickle of dread running through his veins. “What of the chamber?”

Had something happened to it while he had been absent? The look in his master’s crimson eyes said that it had, and that the Devil would be punishing both of them.

Asmodeus flashed his fangs on a black snarl. “The chamber is dark.”

Nevar’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

“The destroyer has awoken.”

Did you enjoy today’s snippet?

Available in e-book from:

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Available in paperback from:

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Published on November 15, 2014 04:25

November 12, 2014

WIP Wednesday – Working on Taken by a Dragon (Eternal Mates Series) – with sneak peek!

It’s time for WIP Wednesday again. I missed the last few but I didn’t really have anything new to report.

If you follow me on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/felicityheaton then you know what I’m up to, but if you haven’t followed me yet, here’s an update!

As you all know, I’m working on the next FOUR books in the Eternal Mates romance series. I know that I’ve had a few readers see me talking about Taken by a Dragon and that it’s book 7 in the series and go – WTH? Have I missed some books?

No, you haven’t. I’m just writing FOUR in one go and they’ll all be released very close together between January and March 2015. You guys seem quite addicted to reading this series, and I’m addicted to writing it, so I figured we could both get a nice big fix!

The edit of Hunted by a Jaguar (Eternal Mates #4) is done and so is the edit of Craved by an Alpha (Eternal Mates #5). Both of them are waiting for their final proofread and then they’ll be ready for their release in January 2015!

Bitten by a Hellcat (Eternal Mates #6) is on hold, sitting there patiently while I write the first draft of Taken by a Dragon (Eternal Mates #7).

Taken by a Dragon catches up with, Loke, that naughty blue dragon shifter from near the end of Claimed by a Demon King and the huntress he kidnapped, Anais.

I’m around 30,500 words into writing the first draft of this novel, and there’s probably another 60,000-70,000 words to go before I type “The End”. So far, Anais has given Loke hell and she’s also gotten him and herself into a spot of trouble. Their roller coaster romance isn’t going to end there though. I feel there’s more trouble ahead for these two.

I’m hoping to have this book finished in first draft by the time I head off on vacation at the end of November. When I return to work in December, I’ll edit Bitten by a Hellcat and this book, and prep Hunted by a Jaguar for release.

Now, how about a sneak preview snippet from Taken by a Dragon?

This is from the first chapter… which is all first draft so forgive my mishaps…

She had passed out at some point.

It might have been shortly after the dragon shifter who had abducted her had hit a height that had made her vision do strange things, zooming in and out as she had stared wide-eyed at the thousand-foot-plus drop to the black lands below. She had certainly lost the contents of her stomach at that point.

Anais lay with her eyes closed, feigning unconsciousness, keeping her breathing light and even and her heart rate steady and slow. She wasn’t alone. She could feel the piercing gaze of the man who had snatched her from the midst of the battle.

A battle where they had been enemies, fighting on opposite sides. Her in the army of the Third Realm of the demons, and him on the side of the Fifth Realm.

When she had set eyes on him, laying in the middle of the mad fray, staring at her and Sable as if they were goddesses or something born of myth and legend, the last thing she had expected was him to transform into an incredible and enormous blue dragon, and she definitely hadn’t expected him to snatch her and fly off with her.

Anais breathed slowly, biding her time, waiting for her faculties to all come back. Fear wasn’t an emotion she was going to allow herself to feel. She was going to figure out a way out of this mess. Her head ached as she tried to think, throbbing behind her eyes and around her temples. Maybe she had passed out from lack of oxygen. It was possible. Anything seemed possible in this insane realm.

Hell.

When she had been told to assemble as part of Sable’s team that would be venturing into Hell on Archangel’s first mission to that new land, she hadn’t known what to expect. It was black and grim, and filled with creatures straight out of the nightmares of most normal people.

She was far from normal though.

She had fought vampires, werewolves, warlocks and demons. Even some fae and cat shifters. All in the name of protecting the unsuspecting humans and the good non-humans who shared the mortal realm from those who would do them harm.

She had never met a dragon shifter though.

Anais slowly opened her eyes.

They settled on a bare and black dust covered pair of feet and tracked upwards, over smooth blue leather encased legs and a honed naked torso to the shifter who had abducted her.

He crouched beside her, his aquamarine eyes stunning in the weak light from the fire she could feel near her feet and hear as its crackles and pops filled the thick silence. That same golden light played on sculpted cheekbones and profane lips, a mouth made for wicked things. She quickly reminded herself that he had a killer set of teeth behind those sensual lips. Twin rows of tiny white daggers that he had flashed at Sable when her superior had talked about studying him.

He canted his head, causing a hank of wild blue hair to slip down and caress his brow. His dark blue eyebrows dipped low, causing his striking eyes to narrow. Curious. He had looked that way back in the battle. He had stared at her with a strange mixture of fascination, awe, and desire.

That final emotion made her go on the defensive. She scrambled backwards across the pebbly black ground, her eyes swiftly darting around to take in her surroundings but never leaving him for longer than a second. A cave. She hit the wall of it a few metres into her attempt to flee him and banged the back of her head against the jagged rock.

Her flinch of pain drew a darker look from the man and he rose to his feet and began to approach her.

Anais shot to hers and held her hand out. A feeble attempt to stop him when she had lost her only weapon, her favourite dagger, during the flight to wherever they were, but it seemed to work.

He halted a short distance away and even backed off a step.

He was incredibly tall.

The demons she had worked with, and the elves, had all been tall, and this man rivalled them. He stood at least as tall as King Thorne of the demons, an impressive six-foot-seven, but where the demon was broadly built, hewn with thick muscles, this male was more athletic, his build slighter but equally as honed.

Anais shook herself and pressed her back against the wall. She was meant to be escaping, not admiring her abductor.

Her gaze flitted to the fire off to her right, where it illuminated the opening of a dark tunnel, and then the cave mouth off to her left. It was dark out there too, a barely discernible difference between the black mountains and the near-black sky of Hell. Either looked like a good option over remaining in the cave with the shifter, but she would take the exit from the cave rather than risking heading deeper into it where she might end up trapped.

Her eyes drifted back to the beautiful male standing before her, his back straight and shoulders squared, and feet noticeably braced apart. He was a warrior all right. He had cut through the battle with ease, taking down demons with one blow of his curved blade. Now he stood in readiness, prepared to defend or attack if she made a move, his fierce blue eyes tracking her every action.

She knew from his interaction with Sable on the battlefield that he understood English, although she had a feeling she was about to test the limits of his knowledge.

She schooled her expression, steadied her heart, and shifted her feet further apart. His gaze dropped to them and his left eyebrow rose. She used his momentary distraction to assess him. He was far stronger than she was, probably faster too, and he had a weapon. A knife. Sheathed at his waist.

That was her target.

Somehow, she would get her hands on that knife. It wouldn’t level the playing field, but it would make her feel a whole damned lot better about her situation.

His aquamarine eyes lifted back to hers and narrowed again, shimmering with curiosity. Why was he so fascinated with her?

“Amazon,” he husked in a voice so deep and smooth it was like taking a pure hit of the finest chocolate, more than most girls could handle without melting into a puddle of bliss.

Anais shook herself again, forcing herself to focus.

On the battlefield, he had called her and her fellow huntresses Amazons. Sable had responded to that by pressing her boot against his throat and correcting him. He had to know she was a demon-hunter. Unless he hadn’t understood that part.

“I’m not an Amazon. I’m a demon-hunter. I work for Archangel.”

He frowned. “An angel?”

Anais resisted the overwhelming temptation to sigh. “No. Archangel. A hunter organisation. I work for them and believe me when I say that they’ll be coming to get me.”

He snarled, flashing white teeth.

That weren’t all tiny daggers.

She made a mental note of that. It seemed that like vampires, elves and demons, the fangs were under his control. She would have to tell Olivia when she got out of this hellhole and back to Archangel.

But they weren’t at Archangel right now. Her team were back in the Third Realm, fighting against demons, bear shifters and dragons. Her heart started a hard thumping against her chest and she looked back towards the mouth of the cave.

“Take me back,” she said and when he didn’t respond, she turned her focus to him, giving him her best glare. “Take me back to the battle. I have to go back.”

What do you think?

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Published on November 12, 2014 08:02

November 11, 2014

Teaseday – Kissed by a Dark Prince (Eternal Mates paranormal romance series book 1) – Excerpt

Today’s tease comes from the paranormal romance book Kissed by a Dark Prince, which is the 1 book in my popular Eternal Mates romance series. Read on for this Tuesday’s tease…

Olivia had never seen anything like the male specimen on the inspection table in front of her.

Her heart raced. She hadn’t experienced this explosive combination of uncertainty, anticipation and enthusiasm in a long time, ever since her superiors had stripped her of her rank and sent her to this satellite facility in London, taking away her high-level privileges and forcing her to work on studying demon and fae species already extensively researched. It still felt as though they had shoved her out of sight, burying her in the Archangel equivalent of a basement to punish her for her mistake. She had lost all hope of removing the taint it had left on her name in the organisation.

Until now.

The specimen lying right in front of her was her chance to prove herself again, a gift that some higher power had literally dumped on her doorstep.

Blood stained his neck and splashed across his jaw, and pooled at the left corner of his mouth too, luring Olivia’s gaze to firm sensual lips that had her staring blankly, lost in their perfection. She blinked herself out of her trance. Time was of the essence. She needed to get her study underway before her guest woke up or one of the other doctors belonging to the facility barged in and tried to take over.

She shook her hands to steady them, pulled her digital recorder from the pocket of her white coat, and turned it on. She set it on the silver trolley filled with all the equipment she thought she might need to complete her inspection of their unconscious guest.

Olivia tugged on a pair of latex gloves and ran her fingers over the scalpels and tools, and settled on a pair of shears. It had been a long time since she had been able to work on a live specimen and she wanted to start by getting his vitals monitored.

She picked up the shears and cut down the middle of his long black tunic style jacket. Red stained her cream gloves.

“Specimen appears to have suffered severe injuries, worse than at first thought, resulting in a high level of blood loss.” She reached the end of his jacket and peeled the two sides back. She paused, her eyes widening at the impressive display of taut honed muscles under tight bloodstained and bruised skin. “Specimen also isn’t wearing anything under his coat.”

Completely unprofessional of her but she had expected at least some sort of undershirt, and she certainly hadn’t anticipated a body like this. She drew in a shaky breath, mentally told herself to get it together, and cut upwards along each of his sleeves. She peeled the two sides of his ruined jacket away from his body and set them down on the tray.

“Multiple lacerations and abrasions on his torso and arms. Many appear to be claw marks. Possible demon attack. Subject wears matching black and silver metal bands on each wrist.” Olivia spread her fingers and stroked along the lines of four long slashes over his left deltoid. She gasped. “Specimen has markings on his body that hadn’t been visible prior to interaction with him.”

Olivia tracked the symbols with her fingertips, following them as they formed a curl over his deltoid to his shoulder. Whenever she moved along the line, more symbols appeared, luring her fingers. The colourful swirls and glyphs shimmered through the blood staining him. They swept over his shoulder and under his collarbone, and suddenly she was caressing his left pectoral, chasing them as they followed the shape of his muscle downwards over his heart and around across his torso, and then curled under his nipple to end in a point there.

She had never seen anything like this. It fascinated her. The ones that curled around his deltoid were already fading, disappearing into his skin.

She had made it her business to study the written languages of the fae and demons, because many non-humans bore markings like this and it made it easier to identify the species of the owner. Incubi were born with lines of symbols on their skin that not only changed colour to show their mood, but also detailed their lineage, proudly displaying their heritage in the paternal line. The symbols inked on this male’s skin weren’t that of the common fae language though. They were new to her.

“Specimen’s markings seem limited to his upper torso.” She leaned over him and swept a single finger across his right pectoral, and sure enough, markings appeared there too, perfectly mirroring the design she had followed. Olivia used the shears to cut through the waist of his black trousers and froze when more markings shimmered over his hipbone. “Correction. Specimen’s markings continue on his lower body, notably his hips.”

Olivia flicked a glance at the front of his trousers. If this lean, unusual male didn’t wear an undershirt, what were the chances he wasn’t wearing underwear too?

She curled her fingers into fists and stifled the blush that crept onto her cheeks. She had seen plenty of nude men during her years as a doctor and in her personal life too. He was just a specimen. Her gaze roamed to his handsome face, taking in its sculpted perfection. A very gorgeous specimen.

Her heart beat harder and she rolled her shoulders. She had to get a grip. This was her chance. If she had never seen anything like this man, then there was a chance neither had the other scientists employed by Archangel. All those scientists that were currently enjoying a soiree at headquarters, leaving her as the only medical staff in the building. If she could document everything about this male, and figure out what species of demon or fae he was, then her superiors would have to give her some credit, and maybe she could get back to doing what she loved most—studying new species.

So, she had to do this. He was just another subject.

Olivia cut away his trousers, running the shears straight down each long, toned leg. She removed the central part and swallowed as her gaze betrayed her, darting to his groin. No underwear. Her face flushed. Oh my. The man was built like a god with not an ounce of fat on his lithe body. All powerful muscle.

She set the shears down and took another steadying breath before touching the fading marks on his left hip. They brightened again and she followed them.

“Specimen’s markings curl over his hip from behind. Cannot risk moving specimen without harming him to investigate them. They move down past his… groin… and then sweep back around to curl over his hip.” Her heart ran away with her again, her blood rushing through her ears. She hadn’t needed to follow the marks all the way to make the ones that arced around towards his buttocks appear. Her fingers had brushed the ones closest to the dark thatch of curls around his genitals and they had appeared.

His hip twitched beneath her fingertips.

Olivia quickly pulled her hand back and froze. He didn’t move again. The breath she had been holding rushed out of her.

“I am going to proceed with monitoring the specimen’s vitals.” She picked up several of the pads used as contacts for the machines and stuck them to his chest and below his ribs on the left side. If he had a similar physiology to a human as many fae species did, chances were high that she could pick up and monitor his heart rate this way. She connected the wires, switched on the machine, and placed a clip over his index finger. The heart rate monitor beeped slowly but everything else was off the charts. “Specimen shows extremely high levels of oxygen in his blood, beyond normal parameters. What are you?”

She ran her gaze over him. He had taken a severe beating before they had found him unconscious outside the building, as if someone had wanted them to find him.

Sable, her friend and demon hunter extraordinaire, had taken one look at him and her gift had told her that he wasn’t mortal.

The hunters who had helped her bring him in had believed he had crawled to them or had made his own way to their doors. Sable didn’t believe that and neither did Olivia.

No demon or fae in their right mind would place themselves at the mercy of Archangel.

No. Someone had dropped this male on their porch and left him there, wanting Archangel to bring him inside. Why?

It could be a trap and it would be just her luck if it were.

“Specimen appears mortal. Markings on his skin appear fae possibly.” But they hadn’t captured a fae in years and he was nothing like the fae she had read about in the database or seen firsthand. “Specimen is male, estimated six-feet-six, one hundred and eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. Black hair.”

Olivia inspected his stomach, pressing in to feel his organs. He felt human but something about him, something other than his mysterious markings, told her that he wasn’t. She peered closer at the severe wounds on his stomach and chest.

“Specimen appears to have advanced healing ability. Age of blood around the wounds is indicative of a recent injury, but the wounds in question are already closed and beginning to scab over.” Many demon and fae species had heightened healing. He could be any number of them. Olivia carefully pulled his upper lip back and studied his teeth. “No fangs. Canines appear normal.”

She drew back and something caught her eye. She parted the wild strands of his short black hair and traced the pointed tip of his ear. Was he a demon? They had pointed ears.

Olivia hovered over him, looking down at his handsome bloodstained face. She had never seen a demon as beautiful, mysterious, or deadly as he was.

Deadly.

She could feel it like an aura around him.

He was dangerous.

And waking up.

Did you enjoy today’s tease?

Kissed by a Dark Prince

Felicity Heaton

Olivia thinks it’s her lucky night when a dangerously handsome unconscious fae ends up on her inspection table. He’s her chance to redeem herself with her employer, the demon-hunting organisation, Archangel. But when the tall, dark and deadly immortal warrior awakes, she gets much more than she bargained for…

Attacked by his enemy in the elf kingdom, the last thing Prince Loren expects when he comes around is a beautiful angel watching over him and medical technology of the mortal realm. Hazy from his injuries, all he can focus on is the pulse ticking in her throat and the sweet allure of her blood.

One single bite reveals she is his eternal mate, triggering a bond between them that will leave him weakened until it is completed… or broken, and pulling Olivia into the crossfire of his ancient feud.

To protect his people and his mate from the machinations of a madman, Loren must risk everything by working with Olivia at Archangel to find a way to break the bond blossoming between them.

But will Loren be strong enough to place duty before desire and give up the one thing he has waited millennia for and craves above all others—his eternal mate? And will Olivia be able to resist the incredible heat that burns between them and the temptation of her dark prince’s kiss?

Available in e-book from:

Amazon Kindle | Amazon Kindle UK | Amazon Kindle Germany | Amazon Kindle Canada | Amazon Kindle Australia

Apple iBookstore US | Apple iBookstore UK | Apple iBookstore Australia | Apple iBookstore Canada | Apple iBookstore New Zealand

Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Smashwords | All Romance eBooks | Google Play

Available in paperback from:

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Barnes and Noble | Amazon.ca

If you haven’t had a chance to read any of the books in the Eternal Mates romance series yet, they’re all available at major ebook retailers and in paperback, and you can find the links and samples of the books at my website:

Kissed by a Dark Prince (Eternal Mates Romance Series #1)

Claimed by a Demon King (Eternal Mates Romance Series #2)

Tempted by a Rogue Prince (Eternal Mates Romance Series #3)