Felicity Heaton's Blog, page 20

Teaseday – Tempted by a Rogue Prince (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 3) – Excerpt

 

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

 

 

He growled so low that she only felt it as a rumble through her chest and then strained against his manacles, becoming so agitated that she feared he would hurt himself again. His face screwed up, his enormous fangs on display, and he threw his head back and roared as he arched off the dark stone slab.

“You need to calm down.” Rosalind reached for him.

She froze when his eyes snapped open.

Purple.

Her breathing accelerated.

She shook her head.

He couldn’t be.

He stared at her, vivid purple eyes flashing wildly as his lips peeled away from his fangs again. Fangs. Purple. Mother earth, she was going to hyperventilate.

His overlong black hair parted to reveal the pointed tips of his ears and she almost passed out.

Elf.

Rosalind shot backwards away from him. Pain erupted in her side, searing her ribs and stealing her breath together with him. Not a damn elf. He couldn’t be a bloody elf.

She shook her head and huddled into the corner, holding her knees and staring at him as he wrestled with his manacles.

Anything but an elf. Why couldn’t he be anything but an elf?

She went back seventy years, to a magical summer’s day when she had been having tea in the garden with her grandmother. It had all been so peaceful and perfect. Endless blue skies. Flowers in full bloom. Butterflies and bees going about their business. A perfect moment.



Until her grandmother had turned sombre, staring at her in silence and worrying her. Rosalind had asked her what was wrong and her grandmother had looked right into her eyes with ones that swirled like a silver storm and had spoken words that had changed her forever.

In Rosalind’s future would be an elven prince, and after meeting him, she would die.

When she had helped King Thorne with his war, she had specifically avoided seeing or meeting Prince Loren of the elves who had been assisting him too.

She warily eyed the elf in the cell with her. He didn’t bear the markings of a royal elf, ones she had learned about during her research into the species. He didn’t look much like a prince either. She tried to shake off her fear, and her rising panic with it. It was difficult. She had spent her whole life convincing herself that her grandmother had been having one of her strange episodes when she got her wires crossed and thought she was talking to someone else, and now she had the horrible feeling that it hadn’t been the case at all.

She had seen Rosalind’s future and had spelt it out for her.

And now Rosalind was locked in a cell with an elf.

She shook off the last clinging threads of her fear. She had met the elf Bleu without dying, and the fae history books only mentioned one elf prince. The one she had avoided. This male was not that prince. The prince had a calm aura. Not a violent one.

She blew out her breath and winced as her ribs protested.

The elf male stilled, his eyes locked on her. They were focused, but not right. He looked lost, a wild beast struggling to comprehend her and his surroundings. He drew in a deep breath.

He craned his neck, turning his head towards his right arm. What was he doing? Studying his restraints?

He sank his fangs into his forearm.

“Stop that.” Rosalind raced across the room to him and stopped short of grabbing his wrist to pull his arm free of his fangs.

He released his arm and blood bloomed there. His purple eyes grew wilder and black spots formed in them like inky blotches that began to spread as he stared at her.

He growled in a commanding tone, “Drink. Female.”

Rosalind’s stomach turned and she shook her head. He snarled in response to her refusal and struggled against the manacles again. Blood crept down his arm, stark red against his pale skin. He spoke in his language, his voice alternating between softness and hardness, between a whisper and a growl. The thick metal restraints cut into his wrists as he frantically fought them, spilling more blood. She couldn’t take it.

She grabbed his bare shoulders and used her weight to press down and restrain him, her body laying partially across his.

He stilled.

She breathed hard, every inch of her shaking, a heady mixture of fear, adrenaline, and relief sweeping through her. Mother earth, she hoped he didn’t bite her or attack her. She had placed herself within easy reach of his fangs. A stupid move, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. He had been hurting himself because of her refusal. He had been losing himself to whatever came over him at times when he was under duress.

“Female. Drink. Heal.”

Rosalind eyed the blood. He wanted to heal her? He was truly insane. Lacerations and wounds covered him from head to toe and he was worried not about himself but instead about her?

He urged her again, dark and commanding this time.

“Drink.”

The thought made her ill but she wanted to be strong so she could escape this nightmare and didn’t want him to hurt himself anymore because of her. If she could achieve one of those things, she would take his blood. Just a sip.

She knew all the fables about elf blood, including the one that said it could heal. She just wasn’t sure she believed it.

Only one way to find out whether it was true.

She bent her head to his arm, poked her tongue out and tried not to think about what she was doing, sure she would retch if she did. She licked the blood, following a line of it up his arm, trying to be as gentle as she could with him so she didn’t startle him.

He startled her instead.

He moaned and his hips undulated against her.

Rather than shocking her into moving away, the sound of pleasure emanating from his lips enticed her to move closer, emboldening her.

Rosalind wrapped her lips around the twin puncture marks his fangs had made and sucked, earning a dark hungry growl from him. He bucked his hips wildly, nudging against her, his actions driven by instinct rather than a conscious decision. She knew it to be true because she wanted to rock hers too, ached and burned low in her belly, possessed by a need to rub against him while she drank him down.

“Drink. Female,” he uttered, his voice a bare whisper. “Ki’ara.”

She instantly tore herself away from him. He called her by another female’s name?

Cold engulfed her, emptiness that left her emotions reeling, clashing violently as she struggled to comprehend what had just happened and fought her instinct to bash him across his thick skull.

She spat the remaining blood in her mouth on the floor, gaining a dark glare from her companion, one that she ignored as she went to work on him. She wasn’t gentle as she healed him. The bastard didn’t deserve gentle after calling her by another woman’s name. She would have told him to go to Hell, but since they were both already there, it hardly seemed worth the effort.

Besides, she couldn’t find her voice. Her throat felt thick, squeezed so tight that she could barely breathe, let alone speak.

He passed out at some point. She didn’t care enough to note when it happened, but was glad that he had left her alone in a way. She wanted to be alone.

The incubus in the cell opposite kindly remained quiet too, although he prowled his cramped quarters, his gaze constantly on her. She hated him too. She hated that he had witnessed the whole affair and could probably see the hurt on her face. She never had been good at hiding her feelings. She had never seen the point before now.

Now though, as she sat in a cell with an elf who had somehow managed to slip past her defences and get under her skin, she wished she knew how to lie and how to shield herself from others, concealing her emotions so they couldn’t be used against her.

Rosalind sank back onto her heels and let her breath out on a sigh. She was done with him and still had hours before moonrise. No punishment for her.

The male’s eyelids flickered and then opened.

He deserved punishment though.

Rosalind stood and towered over him with her hands on her hips. “Who’s Kiara?”

He frowned, a confused edge to his steel-blue eyes. Part of her was glad they were no longer purple. When he looked like this, she could fool herself into thinking he wasn’t an elf, and that she had hope of making it to her one hundred and first birthday.

“I have no ki’ara,” he muttered.

She loomed over him and gave him her best glare. “That wasn’t the case when you commanded me to drink from you.”

His expression sharpened, darkening by degrees. “What are you talking about? I did no such thing.”

She pointed a shaky finger at the marks on his arm. She wanted to see him try to deny they were his, because she wasn’t in possession of a pair of fangs.

“You made me drink and then you had the bloody audacity to call me by another’s name.” Her heart pounded wildly, beating so fast she felt sick.

She stormed to the cell door, grabbed the bars and rattled them with all of her strength, which was considerably more than it had been prior to drinking from the bastard elf. She mentally marked the fable about elf blood having a healing ability as true.

“Guards!” Rosalind hollered, unwilling to spend another second in his company. Heavy footsteps echoed along the corridor. She looked over her shoulder at the elf, her lip curling. “The demon king will be questioning you now, and I hope the bastard gives you what you bloody deserve.”

He stared blankly at her.

The guards opened the door. She huffed and strode out of it, pausing at the bars for long enough to cast him one last withering glare.

“Next time, you can damn well heal yourself.”

The elf blinked, shock written across every line of his handsome face.

Rosalind ignored the bolt of heat that went through her, turned her nose up and stomped along the corridor towards her cell, shaking like a leaf in a storm and unsure whether her jelly legs would give out before she reached her quarters.

There was one thing she was sure of though.

The next time she set eyes on that elf, he was going to find out that Hell had no furies that could match a witch scorned.

 

Did you enjoy today’s tease?

 

Tempted by a Rogue Prince

Felicity Heaton

An elf prince on the verge of losing himself to the darkness, Vail is maddened by the forty-two centuries he was under the control of a witch and forced to war with his brother. Now, he roams Hell seeking an escape from his terrible past and the heads of all who bear magic. When demons of the Fifth Realm capture him, he sees a chance to end his existence, but when he wakes in a cell to a beautiful female, he finds not death but his only shot at salvation—his true fated mate.

Captured by the enemy of the Third Realm when the war ended, Rosalind has spent months in the cells of the Fifth Realm with her magic bound, forced to heal the new king’s demon warriors, and haunted by the lives she has taken. When she’s brought to heal an unconscious man, she discovers her only hope of escape has come in the form of her worst nightmare and the first part of a prediction that might spell her doom—a devastatingly handsome and dangerous dark elf prince.

Unwilling to fall under the control of anyone ever again, Vail must escape before the Fifth King can use him as a pawn in a deadly game of revenge, but he cannot leave without Rosalind, the woman who looks at him with dark desire in her stunning eyes and awakens a fierce hunger in his heart. A witch who drives him mad with need even as the darkness within whispers she will enslave him too.

Can Rosalind escape her fate as they embark on a journey fraught with danger and resist the temptation of her rogue elf prince? And can Vail overcome the memories that madden him in order to seize his chance for salvation and the heart of his fated female forever?

Available in e-book from:

Amazon Kindle Stores:

USA/International | UK | Germany | Canada | Australia

Apple iBookstores:

US | UK | Australia | Canada | New Zealand

Other Retailers:

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

 

Available in paperback from:

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk

 

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)

 

Manday Hotties – Sexy Hot Inked Guys

 

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

 

Which shot is your favourite? I’d like to wake up with #2 please…

 

Visit the other blogs in the hop:

 

Snippet Saturday – Her Guardian Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 4) – Excerpt

 

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

 

 

Amelia ambled along the hot pavement, her head already home in her flat or, more precisely, next door to it with Marcus. He had been a gentleman last night when she had wanted to take things further, and while it had irritated her at the time and made her doubt his attraction towards her again, it had taken on a certain appeal as her day had progressed. In the morning when she had gone jogging, she had done so out of frustration at how the night had ended on what could only be described as a very chaste kiss. By the time she had made it to lunch with her friends, she had been replaying their more passionate kisses in her head, so much so that her friends had commented on her unusual silence. She had made her excuses and not mentioned Marcus. Her friends would think she was rebounding.

Did Marcus think that?

She didn’t want him to see himself as just a rebound guy. He was more than that. She couldn’t put her finger on it but there was something different about him. Something that set him apart from the average man.

Amelia had never had a man treat her in such a gentlemanly fashion and wasn’t sure what to make of it. All of her previous boyfriends had been as passionate as she was and at times she wondered if that was part of their appeal. Because of her attraction to Marcus, she had expected him to be similar to the previous men in her life in that respect. That expectation couldn’t have been more wrong.

The moment he had said that he wanted to take things slowly, she had realised that Marcus really was nothing like her exes, and was everything like the man she had always hoped to meet.

Maybe he was right and they should take their time, if only so she could prove to Marcus that he was more than a rebound to her. She really did like him. Her mind had been stuck on him since the night she had paused to take a good look at him and even now she was itching to see him again. She wasn’t good at going slow. Once something seized hold of her, she generally forgot everything else in a passionate pursuit of what she wanted.

In this case, Marcus naked and pressed against her.

He had been hesitant and strangely polite to her after their kiss, and his sweet goodnight played on her mind, filling her head with doubts.

He had kissed her though.

And it had felt good.

Really good.

She could do the softly-softly thing with him any day of the week. She wouldn’t care how slow things went between them if he just kept kissing her like that.

Amelia was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realise that she had gone the wrong way until she heard three men addressing her. She quickly scanned her surroundings, eyes darting around for an avenue of escape in case things took a turn for the worse.

“Lost?” The innocent expression on the face of the man in the middle didn’t fool Amelia.

It wasn’t dark yet but the sun had already set and she had wandered into the quiet side streets behind the apartment buildings. She looked around again, hoping to spot someone other than the three men, but she was alone.

“Not really.” Amelia turned to walk the other way but another man was there.

No, not another man.

The same man. His dark hair hung in messy threads across his eyes, obscuring his face enough that she wouldn’t be able to describe him well to the police if it came down to that. God, she hoped it didn’t. She hurried to get a good look at the other two men. Both around the same height as the first, tall and with slim figures, and both sporting dark jeans and jackets, clothing that seemed far too warm for such a hot summer evening. She was sweltering in her small pale blue dress.

“I don’t want any trouble.” She clutched her leather handbag closer to her, holding it in front of her stomach. Could she use it as a weapon? She kept so much junk in it that it was probably heavy enough to knock someone out if she swung it hard at their head.

Her heart accelerated at the thought of actually trying to fend off these three men. They didn’t look strong, but they had the advantage of numbers and she couldn’t tell from their clothing just how built they were. For all she knew, they could be like Marcus. His build didn’t show when he wore loose clothing like these men were.

She did have one weapon she could use without too much fear and it might be enough to deter them.

Amelia shoved her hand into her black bag, pulled out her mobile phone and flashed it around so all three men got a good look at it.

“I’ll call the police.” Not a tremble touched her voice. Brave Amelia. She held the phone out, standing her ground, unwilling to let these men get the better of her and see her scared.

The two lighter haired men smiled at her, as though her words were more amusing than threatening.

She flipped the slim black phone open and quickly punched 999 but before she could bring the phone up to her ear, she dropped it.

No. Not dropped. It had shot out of her hand and clattered along the ground to the first man, the one she presumed was the gang’s leader.

What the hell?

The dark haired man casually bent down and picked it up. He brought it to his ear, raised an eyebrow, and then snapped the phone in two as though it was made of tinder wood.

Double what the hell?

Amelia spun on the spot when one of the men behind her grabbed her bag. She swung her fist on instinct, smashing it hard into his temple, but he didn’t let go. He didn’t even flinch. Shit. This wasn’t going to go well. She opened her mouth to scream but the sound died when the man who had grabbed her suddenly levitated before her wide eyes.

Not levitating, she realised as she saw the fingers tightly grasping the man’s neck with such bruising force that they dug hard into his flesh. Her heart missed a beat when the man’s attacker threw him to one side.

Marcus stood before her, fury darkening his handsome face and rage burning in his blue eyes.



The man hit the wall with a startling bang and Marcus grabbed her hand and ran. She only had a moment to look back, but it was all she needed in order to see that the two remaining men were coming after them, and that the third lay on the tarmac just below a crater in the bricks of the building at his back.

Amelia stumbled and Marcus dragged her up, bringing her attention back to him and his fierce grip on her. How strong was Marcus? Could a human throw a man into a wall and create a dent like that? Was it the anger she had seen in his eyes that had given him the strength to do such a thing? She was being ridiculous. The buildings were old around here. Maybe it was just weak brickwork.

Or maybe there really was something different about Marcus.

“Focus,” he snapped and her mind instantly cleared, her attention shooting to her feet and to running as fast as she could.

The men were still in pursuit and she didn’t want to be responsible for Marcus having to take both of them on.

Everything else drifted to the back of her mind as she ran, her breathing loud in her ears, following Marcus as he wove through the back streets. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder to see if the men were still coming after them. Marcus kept glancing back, his silver-blue eyes either lighting on her or the path behind them. She presumed the men were still there since he kept running. Her legs were beginning to tire and her feet were aching. How much further did they have to go? Why hadn’t Marcus made a break for the busy main street where they would be safe rather than pounding through the alleys and side roads?

Amelia frowned. She had left her bag back in the alley. It had come off her shoulder when Marcus had torn the man away from her. She could remember seeing it next to him where he lay crumpled on the floor. Dead? She hoped not. She didn’t want to be linked to the man and if he were dead that would make Marcus a murderer. She glanced up at his profile. It wobbled in her vision as they ran but she didn’t miss the steely look of determination etched on his profile.

“We should go right,” she said, out of breath and desperate to reach the main roads and growing afraid that the men would catch up and Marcus would be forced to fight again.

“No,” he said without sounding at all tired or strained and looked up. “This way.”

Amelia couldn’t believe it when he kicked in a fire exit door with a single blow of his booted foot and started leading her up the back stairs of an old building. Was he insane?

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” she ground the words out between breaths, trying to keep up with him as her legs began to flag. Running on the flat had been tiring enough. She wasn’t going to make it more than a few flights of steps without collapsing.

“The roof.”

Insane.

“Dead end,” she squeezed out. “We’ll be trapped.”

Panic sent her heart rocketing and she looked back down the dark stairwell, afraid that the men would be following them and would be faster than she was. Adrenaline kept her legs moving but each step was becoming increasingly difficult. At this rate, the men would catch her. She jogged her backside off most weekends and some weekday mornings in order to remain fit and healthy, but she had never been good at flat out running.

When she turned back to Marcus, he was looking at her, his eyes unusually bright in the low light.

“Trust me on this.” He paused on the next floor, not at all out of breath.

Amelia panted like a dog, her throat burning as she dragged in each breath, her breathing so loud that she couldn’t hear anything else. Were the men coming? She stared down the stairs and then looked across at Marcus. His eyes had to be a trick of the light but they were so vivid and bright, bluer than she had ever seen them.

“I need to get to the roof and then I can deal with the men.”

“As in, fight them?” Her expression turned to horror but Marcus just nodded.

“I said I would protect you, Amelia. I meant that.”

“You think they’re coming after me? Why? I dropped my bag. They’ve got what they’re after.”

The look in Marcus’s eyes said different. He knew they were coming. She didn’t want to know how he knew or why they were after her, but she did know that going with Marcus was her only option. She couldn’t fight the men alone. Perhaps when they reached the roof, they would find that the men hadn’t come after her at all and could escape another way.

Marcus grabbed her hand again and started running, his footsteps heavy on the staircase. Amelia stumbled after him, keeping up as best she could, her legs cramping and threatening to give out. A warm rush of air burst against her when he kicked the door to the roof open and the brightness of the light blinded her for a moment. She kept running with him, one hand clutched in his and the other trying to pin the skirt of her dress down.

Marcus stopped.

Her eyes adjusted.

The two men were standing a few metres in front of them, near the edge of the black tarred flat roof.

Impossible.

Amelia looked back at the door she had come out of with Marcus and then around her at the roof, her heart pounding and sweat trickling down her back, sticking her blue dress to her skin.

There weren’t any other routes onto the roof. No ladder or adjoining building. How had the men reached the roof before them?

“Marcus,” she said but the rest of her sentence died when she saw him.

He stood with his back to her, the warm breeze tousling his black hair, his broad shoulders relaxed as though he wasn’t facing two dangerous men.

But what stole her breath, what made her heart flutter in her throat, was his clothing.

Gone were his jeans and shirt and boots.

In their place was something she could only describe as armour but it seemed ridiculous that he would be wearing such a thing. The deep blue back plate shone like mother of pearl in the fading light of evening, reaching only mid-way down his back, and had two long slits over each shoulder blade. She could see his tattoos through them. Strips of armour in a similar material covered his backside like a short skirt but revealed the dark material beneath. His muscular thighs were bare and taut, exuding strength as he stood firm with one hand at his side and the other still clutching hers. The armour encased his bare forearms too, brilliant blue and edged with shining silver and decorated with rearing silver unicorns.

Amelia stared at him, head light and fuzzy, confused and unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

Marcus was wearing armour.

She looked around for his clothes, convinced it was a trick of some sort and he had somehow been wearing this incredible costume beneath his clothes, but she couldn’t see them and he hadn’t once let go of her hand.

His other hand moved at his side and her eyes widened as they fell on the short sword strapped there. He removed it from the sheath, the curved steel blade around the length of his forearm and hand combined, and held it down at his side.

“Leave,” he said and she wondered if he was speaking to her until she leaned to one side and looked past him.

Her eyes popped wide.

The two men had changed appearance too and this time she decided that she was hallucinating. The fear had gone to her head or perhaps she had passed out, because rather than two humans, she was looking at two human-shaped things with pitch-black skin and glowing red eyes. They were huge, at least three feet taller than before, and built like brick shit houses and both were staring intently at Marcus, lips peeled back in a sneer that revealed sharp red teeth.

Amelia felt faint but held it together. She couldn’t pass out in her own nightmare.

Or was it a dream?

Her gaze slid back to Marcus. He turned at the waist and looked over his shoulder at her, his face a mask of calm confidence, and released her wrist. He certainly looked like something out of a dream. A warrior. Otherworldly. Elementally masculine. She resisted her temptation to look at his body again and see the way his muscles twisted with him, full of strength and power. He would look beautiful if she stepped back and took him all in. Sexy as hell.

A chill settled on her skin.

Dangerous.

Amelia stepped back on instinct, distancing herself from him without thinking, and pain flashed in his vivid silver-blue eyes before he turned away.

Had she caused it by placing more distance between them? Her heart had made her feet move, afraid of what she was looking at and the knowledge that Marcus was dangerous. He had possibly killed a man in the street and looked as though he was going to kill these two men, or whatever they were. What insane world had she fallen into? Marcus had said to trust her. He had promised to protect her.

And she believed him.

She just couldn’t bring herself to believe what she was seeing.

Amelia flinched when Marcus flicked his left hand out at his side and the handle of the blade extended into a long staff that rivalled his six foot plus frame. The silver engraving that covered it reflected the dying sunlight.

She blinked and Marcus was gone. A boom shook the ground and a hot wave of air knocked her onto her backside. She sat there with her hands pressed into the tacky tar roof on either side of her thighs, staring, unable to take her eyes off the battle happening right before her.

Marcus was fighting.

For her.

 

Did you enjoy today’s snippet?

 

Her Guardian Angel

Felicity Heaton

A love so strong it will shake Heaven and Hell.

A guardian angel dedicated to his duty, Marcus will do whatever Heaven asks of him, but even his loyalty has its limits. When his superior orders him to gain Amelia’s trust through seduction, Marcus starts to question his mission and his feelings for the beautiful woman he has watched over since her birth.

Amelia has gone from one bad relationship to another, so when a gorgeous guy moves in next door looking like Mr Right, she hopes he doesn’t turn out to be another black knight in disguise. But there’s more to Marcus than meets the eye, and when he rescues her from three demonic men, Amelia is thrust into his nightmarish world. On the run from demonic angels and the Devil himself, aided by warrior angels and their amazing women, Marcus and Amelia discover a love that will last forever.

When the strength of that love is put to the test, will Marcus and Amelia win their fight for survival against the odds or will they lose in a deadly eternal game between Heaven and Hell?

NOTE: This book can be read out of order with the rest of the series and kicks off the main story arc that runs from books 4-7

Available in e-book from:

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

Apple iBookstore USA | 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

 

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)

 

WIP Wednesday – Bitten by a Hellcat (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Books 6) and more!

I missed last week, but I’m back this week with an update on what book I’m working on.

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!

Having completed the first drafts of the next two books in the Eternal Mates romance series, I set about planning the book that follows them last week. That’s the book that will be #6 in the series, and its title is Bitten by a Hellcat.

Bitten by a Hellcat kicks off around the same time as Hunted by a Jaguar, and begins in Underworld, which is Kyter’s bar. The hero of the book is Owen, who is a very legendary hunter but he doesn’t work with Archangel, and the heroine is Cait, who is a shifter.

I’ve just completed the first draft of this book, and it’s around 45000 words, which is good for a novella. That’s around half the length of the novels in the series.

Next up, I’m planning and then writing book 7 in the series, which will be Taken by a Dragon. I’ll also be editing Hunted by a Jaguar and Craved by an Alpha and getting them ready for release.

The plan as it stands is that I will release these four books in the Eternal Mates romance series close together, only a few weeks between each release. The current release plan for the books is for them to go in this order:

Jan 10th – Hunted by a Jaguar

Jan 31st – Craved by an Alpha

Feb 21st – Bitten by a Hellcat

Mar 14th – Taken by a Dragon

There’s a chance I could release them about a month earlier for each release… but it depends on how I go with editing Hunted by a Jaguar and writing the first draft of Taken by a Dragon. It might be that I end up releasing the books closer together rather than shifting the release day for Hunted by a Jaguar into this year.

Now, how about a sneak preview snippet from Bitten by a Hellcat?

This is from the first chapter, when Owen is watching Cait dancing in Underworld, Kyter’s nightclub in London.

The female shifter ran her hands up her body, dragging his focus back to her, and Owen couldn’t stop his gaze from tracking them over every lush and tempting curve, especially when she ran them over her breasts and up her neck. She tangled her fingers in her long dark hair, drawing the tangled damp lengths away from her neck as she closed her eyes, a flicker of bliss crossing her pretty face. The air-conditioning in Underworld was cranked up tonight, but it wasn’t enough to combat the heat coming off everyone on the packed dance floor.

It wasn’t enough to cool Owen down as he stared at her.

Strong hands clamped down on Owen’s shoulders from behind, fingers tipped with short claws pressing through his black shirt, and he stiffened and winced as some of the bruises he had picked up on his last job burned beneath the pressure of the male’s grip.

“I’d reconsider if you were thinking of doing something stupid in my club.” The deep male voice growled over the thumping rock music, close to his ear, and Owen knew without looking who was behind him on the other side of the bar. Kyter. The big blond male shifter owned Underworld and they had a sort of accord. Owen didn’t hunt on his turf and Kyter didn’t kill him. “I’m not in the mood to see a fellow cat get her tail pulled. I won’t be held responsible for how it will end for you.”

Kyter released his shoulders.

Owen slowly turned on his stool to face him, his wide eyes meeting the bright golden ones of the jaguar shifter. “I swear, I’m off duty.”

Kyter didn’t look as if he believed him, but Owen couldn’t hold that against him. Kyter and most of the staff at Underworld, and probably most of the patrons, knew what he did for a living and they had every right to be wary around him.

Especially the patrons.

Owen guessed that if he took his tablet device out of the bag at the foot of his stool, he would find at least a fifth of them were in his database for some misdemeanour or another.

The sandy-haired male looked as if he might ask him to leave, but then his gaze slid to Owen’s right.

Owen looked there and found the female he had been studying bouncing up to the bar, a big smile on her face as she breathed hard. She turned that killer smile on Kyter and Owen felt an undeniable urge to add the shifter to his database. He shot the big jaguar a glare.

Kyter’s right eyebrow lifted.

A ripple of heat travelled through Owen and he became aware of the beautiful woman beside him.

Staring at him.

He slowly turned his head towards her as Kyter walked away. Blue eyes met his, turning the ripple of heat into an inferno that blasted through his veins, burning up his blood. A corona of brighter blue fire shone around her dilated pupils as she stared into his eyes, radiating confidence that shook his own.

She was more beautiful than he had thought.

Incredible.

Owen could only stare at her in silence as she looked at him, long black lashes and dark make-up framing striking blue eyes.

A hellcat.

They were the rarest of the cat shifters and fetched high prices on the black market of Hell.

He had never seen one of her kind, not in all his years as a hunter or during all of the training that had come before that. He doubted that even the hunters who worked for Archangel, the world’s leading hunter organisation devoted to protecting the unwitting humans from the secret and often dangerous world of fae and demons, had seen a hellcat.

She turned her cheek to him and flagged a bartender. Owen didn’t pay any attention to who served her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she spoke, her painted red lips moving in a mesmerising symphony, filling him with a fierce need to kiss her.

It was only when she turned back to face him and slid a glass across the black bar top in his direction that he became aware of something else in the club. His pale gaze dropped to the drink she had evidently bought for him.

A shot of Hellfire.

Heck, she was trying to kill him.

 

What do you think?

 

Teaseday – Claimed by a Demon King (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 2) – Excerpt

 

Today’s tease comes from the book Claimed by a Demon King, which is the second book in my popular Eternal Mates romance series. Read on for this Tuesday’s tease…

 

 

A ripple of heat travelled through Thorne’s muscles, sending a shiver of awareness through him.

Sable.

He was turning before he knew it, his gaze seeking her, drawn to his little female.

When it found her, his blood chilled and then burned for a different reason.

She was beautiful, resplendent with her long black hair twirled and clasped at the back of her head and her lips rosy, but she did not wear a dress of mortal fashion.

The long flowing blue garment reached her ankles, the sheer layers parting as she walked, revealing glimpses of bare thigh through the gauzy material that made him want to growl at every male in the room who dared to look upon his female. In contrast to the loose skirt, the top was tight, the blue bands of material held in place by elaborate arcs and swirls of brushed silver metal that acted as a corset over them.

An elven dress.

The wretched elf male beside her raked an appreciative glance over her body, blatant hunger in his purple eyes.

Thorne’s lips peeled back off his fangs and his horns curled in front of his ears.

He stormed through the crowd, shoving demon, elf, vampire and werewolf out of his path, picking up speed as he neared her and the male. Sable’s golden eyes met his, a smile rising onto her lips. It faded when he growled low in his throat. She tensed, her eyes going wide, and backed off a step. He pushed the last obstacle aside and seized Bleu by his throat, barely registering Sable’s gasp, and kicked forwards, using all of his speed to slam the male against the stone wall behind her.

Thorne’s muscles ached, beginning to expand as his fury took hold of him, ruling his actions. His dragon-like wings burst from his back and tore through his shirt and his muscles strained against the now-tight white material. His horns grew, curling around themselves and flaring forwards into deadly points. His fangs descended, his lower canines sharpening to match them.

He heaved a breath and roared in Bleu’s face as he hauled the male up the wall so his legs dangled above the floor.

Rage burned in his blood, the sounds around him drowned out by the rush of it in his veins and the thunderous beat of his heart.

Bleu coolly stared down at him.

Thorne cursed him for it when a familiar burn raced through him. Sable. She stared at him.

He slid his gaze to his right, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Her horrified expression spoke of her desire to separate them.

To protect the elf.

Her male.

Thorne tightened his grip on Bleu’s throat and snarled in the demon tongue, “She is not your ki’ara. You would know your fated female and would be unable to ignore the urge to fight me. How dare you dress her as your ki’ara!”

Bleu’s hand calmly encircled his wrist and he looked as if he would allow his armour to transform his fingers into claws and wrest Thorne’s hand from his throat, yet he made no move to fight him.

Thorne needed to fight.

His blood pumped hard and hot, and his mind screamed with fury over what this male had dared to do with his fated one. His female.

He wanted to throw him across the room, to rain blows down upon him until his temper flared and he fought back. He wanted to snag the female with his free hand, curl his claws over the metal bodice of her dress and rip the offending garment from her body.

He yearned to kiss her until she knew that she belonged to him.

He could do none of those things.

Everyone was staring at him and clarity was beginning to pierce the red haze in his mind like the rising sun drove back the darkest night, bringing calm to all those its rays touched.

He had brought these elven folk and mortals to his world because he needed their aid, and he was ruining his chance of keeping his kingdom safe.

For the sake of a female.

Thorne snarled, torn between tightening his grip around Bleu’s scrawny neck and releasing him. His chest heaved with each harsh breath he sucked down into his lungs in a fight to calm himself and his fingers twitched against Bleu’s flesh. The urge to press his claws in, to draw blood and ignite the male’s anger was hard to ignore. He wanted to tear into him with claw and fang, to push him into responding, all to sate his need to ensure this male no longer dared to pursue his female.

He needed to kill him.

Sable moved, taking a brave step closer, and shock rippled through him when his rage lifted enough for him to realise that she looked only at him. Broken words reached his ears, filtering through the red mist clouding his senses.

She spoke to him directly and everything male in him demanded he listened to his female.

He eased his grip and turned to her. She appeared small and delicate, but formidable too as she stood with her hands braced against her hips, her bright golden gaze locked on him in a scowl.

His female was fearsome. A warrior.

He wanted to grin at that.

A female fit for a king.

“Dial it back, Tiger,” she said.

He didn’t understand her strange words or why she equated him with a savage animal of her world, but he knew from her gentle tone and softening expression that she meant to calm him.

Thorne could only obey.

He lowered the elf to his feet and fought to convince himself to release his throat. Sable continued to stare into his eyes, her gaze commanding his to remain rooted on her. It took a few seconds before he managed to uncurl his fingers from Bleu’s neck, and only a few seconds more than that for him to notice the ragged state of his clothes, the horrified expressions of the mortals surrounding him, and the barely concealed anger flashing in the eyes of the elves.

Thorne turned away from Sable and shoved past Bleu, heading for the door beyond the mortals. They scurried out of his path, their fear tainting their scents.

He growled and tossed over his shoulder, “I will return. Prepare the feast.”

He stormed out of the great hall, needing space to rein in his anger, and requiring a change of clothes. There was little point in donning a new shirt until he had his temper back under control though. He growled and snarled as he stomped along the torch-lit corridor towards his rooms, his mood degenerating again, thoughts of Sable with Bleu dragging him back towards the red mist. He female was there with the elf, no doubt checking on the male, touching his bruised throat and speaking words of concern and tenderness.

Thorne threw his head back and roared until his throat burned and he had no breath left. He dragged his claws along the stone walls, craving the pain and aching with the need to unleash his anger on something. Anything.

He reached his rooms and barged through the arched wooden door, slamming it shut behind him. He paced from one side of the expansive bedroom to the other, his gaze locked on the floor, his footfalls shaking the timbers. He snarled and tore at his ruined shirt, and only grew more frustrated as it snagged in his wings. They wouldn’t go away. Not while he skirted the edge, on the brink of losing his mind to the rage pouring through him, eating away at him, filling his head with images of Bleu and Sable.

Thorne roared again and ripped the remains of the shirt from his body. He tore it to shreds, threw it to the floor and flexed his claws as he paced, his wings shifting with each step. His bones ached as his body expanded again, muscles tight against his skin, and his teeth hurt as he clamped them together. He snarled and turned on his heel to stomp back towards the door, feeling like the beast his female had called him.

A feral tiger trapped within a cage, wild and driven to pace the cramped confines to unleash his energy lest he go insane.

A soft knock sounded.

Fargus, no doubt. The fool was the only male mad enough to approach him when he was in a rage.

Thorne stopped at the door and yanked it open, ready to bite his commander’s head off about the disturbance. No one was there.

His gaze dropped several inches.

He stilled right down to his heartbeat.

Sable.

Her determined expression faltered and she looked uncertain, as if she had forgotten why she had come to him.

She had come to him.

Her golden-brown eyes fell to his bare chest and his horns curled at the way she slid them over his flesh, her pupils dilating and gaze growing heated.

Could she desire him?

Was she not Bleu’s?

“What do you want?” he brusquely said and cursed himself for snapping at her. Just the name of the bastard elf in his mind had been enough to sour his mood again, destroying the calm that had come over him upon seeing Sable.

She cleared her throat and inched her eyes back up to his. “I get the feeling I did something wrong and I wanted to apologise. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Curious little female. “You did not offend me. The elf did.”

“How?” She frowned at him and her question surprised him. No female had ever dared to question him.

Was this some sort of ruse? Perhaps she was trying to discern the truth by taking the blame for his outburst. Did she desire to know why he had lost his mind and had attacked her male?

He would tell her.

“The male attempted to claim what is rightfully mine.”

Confusion flickered across her pretty face.

Thorne spelled it out for her by catching hold of her metal bodice, yanking her to him and grasping the nape of her neck to keep her still. He took a deep breath for courage and then dipped his head and claimed her mouth.

She stood frozen with her hot hands pressed against his bare chest, burning into him, and he thought she would push him away.

The moment his female’s lips yielded to the hard demanding press of his and their tongues touched, pleasure nearly felled him.

He focused all of his will on holding back his strength, fearing he would hurt his little mortal with it, and tore the pins from her hair with his right hand. He sifted his fingers through the soft black strands, groaning at the feel of them slipping over his flesh. With his left, he clasped her against him.

Her dress was silk and her warm curves giving beneath his hand. He slid it lower and clutched her backside, pinning her against the full length of his body as he laid claimed to her mouth. She tensed and then melted into him, her lips parting to allow their tongues to touch again. Hers stroked his, dizzying him and driving him to kiss her harder. He gave in to the urge, unable to deny his hunger to taste her. So warm and sweet. His female tasted like ambrosia of the gods.

His knees loosened, threatening to give out as pleasure he had never experienced before flowed through every inch of him. It was stronger than he ever could have imagined, consuming and owning him, dragging him into a drugged daze where there was only fierce sensation and emotions, and the connection bursting to life between him and his little female.

Did she feel as he did? Did her limbs tremble from the pleasure overloading her and her blood run hot, thundering in her veins as desire blazed through her? He wanted to know, ached to draw back and look deep into her eyes and see that she was his now and he wasn’t alone in his passion and desires, but more than that he didn’t want this kiss to end.

Thorne clutched her more tightly, pulling her closer, obeying his instincts to possess her and claim her as his forever. His fangs dropped.

His female tensed, planted her hands harder against his chest and shoved him back, pinning his spine to the doorframe behind him.

She released him, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and squared up to him, fire flashing in her eyes. His female was not pleased.

“I came here to apologise because I thought I had done something wrong again. Well, now it’s your turn to apologise.”

Thorne growled. “I will never apologise to the elf.”

Her slap caught him off guard. His left cheek buzzed fiercely and he tasted blood. He ran his tongue around his mouth, finding the source of it on the left of his lower lip. She had struck him hard enough to cut him on his own fangs. He growled again, opened his mouth to warn her not to defend the male around him, and frowned as he realised she was storming away from him, heading back towards the great hall.

“Men,” she muttered darkly. “Doesn’t matter what species they are… they’re all bloody idiots.”

 

Did you enjoy today’s tease?

 

Claimed by a Demon King

Felicity Heaton

The moment the demon King Thorne of the Third Realm set eyes on the mortal huntress Sable, he knew she was his fated one. The fiery, dangerous female awakened hungers he had never experienced before, a dark craving and passion that has consumed him in their time apart. As the lunar cycle wanes, she enters his world again and nothing will stand in the way of him claiming his forever with her—not the relentless assault from the Fifth Realm or the dark elf male determined to seduce her out of his grasp.

Intent on achieving the coveted position of commander at Archangel, Sable leads her small team into the dark underworld and the Third Realm, to a war where her allies are the very creatures she normally hunts—vampires, werewolves, and demons. Her eagerness to lead the deadly mission has everything to do with winning her promotion, and nothing to do with the kingdom’s brash, lethally seductive demon king—a king who stirred fierce desire and wildfire heat in her with just a look and an innocent touch when they first met, and has been in her wicked dreams ever since.

As the gathering storm between rivals unleashes irresistible passion that flares white-hot and the heat of the battle brings life-shattering realisations, can Sable place her duty before her heart? Or will she surrender to her deepest desires and be claimed by a demon king?

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)

 

Manday Hotties – Sexy Inked Men

 

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

 

Which shot is your favourite? I want to open my door to #1

 

Visit the other blogs in the hop:

 

Snippet Saturday – Tempted by a Rogue Prince (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 3) – Excerpt

 

Snippet Saturday is brought to you today by Tempted by a Rogue Prince, which is the third book in my popular Eternal Mates romance series. Read on for this Saturday’s snippet…

 

Vail narrowed his gaze on her, studying her delicate features and the way she held herself, drinking in everything about her, searching for a clue as to the reason for his strange reactions to her. Perhaps they had drugged him. It was all a ploy to weaken him and lure him into her trap. They wanted to watch her bring him to his knees. They would laugh as he suffered at her hands.

They were attempting to play on his compassion, but that had been their mistake.

He had no compassion left.

It had been wrung out of him thousands of years ago.

“Please?” she said again and gestured to the slab. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just have to heal you.”

He didn’t want to lay on it and allow her to touch him. He didn’t want her hands on him. Caressing. Fondling. Groping. He snarled and flashed his fangs again, and she shrank back, a little gasp escaping her.

“I would do as she asks, Mate. She isn’t going to hurt you, but if she doesn’t do as ordered, the demons will hurt her.” The deep male voice was little more than a snarl and Vail cast a glance off to his left.

A male with long dark hair streaked with gold occupied the cell opposite his, casually leaning against the thick deep grey stone wall. Green eyes locked with Vail’s, holding him fast. Fae markings tracked up the male’s arms, flushed with blood red and ash black, a sign of aggression. He was handsome too, despite the thick dark beard. He folded his arms across his muscular bare chest, the twin cuffs he wore clanking and filling the heavy silence, but they had no chain between them.

If this male spoke the truth, then she did too, and the guards would punish her for her failure. Vail pressed his hands against the sides of his head, dug his fingers through his blue-black hair and clawed his scalp, raking his nails over it. Gods, he missed his claws. He missed his armour. He needed it back. It was the only thing that could ground him.

The male pushed away from the wall and moved to the bars. He wrapped his hands around them and his gaze slid to the female. Lingering. Possessing.

Vail bared his fangs and hissed at him, barely maintaining the human appearance of his eyes and ears. He had to hold on to his veil. He couldn’t let these people know what he was. Who he was.

The man shrugged and kept staring at the female. “I warned you, Little Girl. You play with vipers and you’ll get bitten.”



“And I told you I will never leave someone to suffer if I can help them,” she snapped and folded her arms across her chest. “Stay out of this, Incubus.”

The male muttered something in the fae tongue and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dirty black jeans.

The female cast a scowl at him and bit out something in the same language.

Vail had long ago forgotten it. It had become useless to him after he and Loren had decided to save their people by moving them from the violent mortal world to the realm of Hell. No one spoke fae down here in this shadowy realm, and he had not left the elf kingdom in centuries.

No. That wasn’t true. He had left it. He had turned his back on it. He had to remember that. He had gone to war with his own people.

All had forsaken him.

But not Loren.

Vail returned to the bench and sagged onto it, his heart heavy and aching behind his ribs. Loren had kept trying to save him. Why? Why hadn’t his brother given up on him? Gods, he had wanted him to. He had pleaded every god of his species to make his brother leave him and forget about him. The gods hadn’t listened to him. He had tried forcing his brother to end his fool’s crusade to save him and save himself instead. Loren had refused.

What had he ever done to deserve such a brother?

He had murdered thousands. He had destroyed lands. He had ignited wars. He had done unspeakable things.

He didn’t deserve forgiveness, so why did a sliver of his heart cling to the hope it might be his?

The female stopped in front of him and he looked up at her, caught off guard by her sudden appearance and unable to mask his pain before she saw it. Her incredible blue eyes reflected it back at him, laced it with compassion that he couldn’t bear.

He closed his eyes, shutting her out, and lay back on the cold slab, no longer caring what she did to him. Loren would never give up. Vail had given up centuries ago.

His beloved brother was so much stronger than he could ever become.

The female dropped to her knees beside him and he tried not to squirm under her attention. He clenched his hands together and battled his instincts and the need to harm her. It wasn’t Kordula. He opened his eyes and stared at her when his mind refused to believe that, forcing himself to see that the one tending to his wounds was someone else. Someone with compassion. Someone beautiful.

This little wild rose was nothing like the dark witch who had driven him mad by degrees, destroying every part of him and building a monster in its place.

“What species are you?” the female whispered and eyed his mouth. “Are you a vampire?”

Vail snarled at her again, exposing his fangs, and didn’t answer her. He needed his strength and was using what he had to keep his veil in place while she healed him. It was difficult to maintain mortal eye colour and the human appearance of his ears while she was funnelling power into him, causing spasms in parts of his body, making him twitch and sending pain ricocheting along his nerves.

“Did you serve on King Thorne’s side in the war?”

He stared blankly at her as memories swirled together in his mind, a mixed up replay of that battle. He had seen Olivia in danger and had lost his head, had slipped into a killing rage and destroyed any who had dared to come near her.

He would have killed King Thorne too if Loren hadn’t appeared.

The sound of his brother’s voice had grounded him together with his presence, the comforting sense of him standing nearby. Loren had brought him back from the abyss, giving him a reprieve, like a shaft of purest sunlight penetrating the blackest boiling storm clouds.

His silence didn’t deter the female.

“Did you fight there and were captured like me?”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion on her. “You are no warrior.”

She was too slender. Too weak and fragile. Captivity hadn’t stripped her of muscle and physical strength. She had always been this way. Slender. Delicate. Not a warrior.

The effort of lifting a sword would most likely see her falling flat on her face from the weight of it.

She shook her head, her blonde locks dancing across her shoulders. “I drove the witches back. I was taking down a few demons with my spells when they grabbed me.”

Witches.

Spells.

Vail batted her hands away from him and growled at her.

His head swam, the cell turning with it, and he blinked hard, trying to focus on her as pain tore through his body, her healing spell going haywire inside him without her to control it. Witches. Spells.

Witch.

“Witch.” He flexed his fingers, filled with a black need to wrap his hands around her throat.

The sharp sound of metal on metal shattered the thick silence and two demon males prowled into the cell. Vail fought the agony eating away at him as he lay on the stone slab and silently bared his fangs at the witch. A stay of execution. When she next crossed his path, he would kill her.

The males grabbed her and he took satisfaction from her gasp and the frightened looks she cast at the demons towering over her.

“Time is up. You did not manage your task,” one male said, a grim smile tugging at his lips as he raked his gaze over her. “You must be punished.”

She immediately reached for Vail, abject fear in her round blue eyes. It drove the darkness from him and something compelled him to rise from the hard slab and punish the demons who meant to harm her. He tried to move, wanted to snag her wrist and pull her to him, needed to protect her but every cell in his body screamed in agony. He was too weak.

He had been too weak to stop these vile creatures from stealing his armour and now he was too weak to protect the female. He was the vile one. Despicable. Pathetic. He had given up and now he needed to fight.

He wouldn’t let them take her from him.

The two males roughly dragged her past him.

“Leave her,” Vail yelled and tried to move again.

He managed to fall from the slab this time, landing on his belly, and fumbled for one of the demon’s ankles. The male was too strong for him and easily broke free of his grip on his boot.

The female fought them, a wild feral creature as she clawed and kicked, and even attempted to bite them. She flailed in their grip, fear etched on her delicate features, terror that dug sharp claws into Vail’s heart and tore at it. They chuckled at her futile attempts to harm them.

They would pay for that.

Vail forced himself to move, refusing to let pain cripple him and stop him from reaching her. He would fight the limits of his body and his mind and wouldn’t stop until he passed out or death embraced him. He would bleed himself dry and destroy himself if only it would save her.

He crawled across the grimy damp dark flagstones towards the cell door, driven to reach her and unable to ignore the instinct to protect her that ran deep in his blood.

Little Wild Rose.

The demons slammed the cell door in his face. He tried to teleport to the other side but nothing happened. He cursed the cuffs binding him and banged them against the bars, desperate to reach her, the need so intense that it overwhelmed him and brought the darkness within him swiftly rising to the surface.

They dragged her out of sight and Vail roared his anger, eliciting whimpers from the occupants of several of the cells surrounding him.

The female shrieked in agony, the sound sending a chill skating over his arms and down his spine, and igniting his rage.

He was only vaguely aware of the world as he snapped the chain between the manacles, launched to his feet and attacked the magically reinforced bars of his cell, filled with a primal need to reach and protect the female.

His Little Wild Rose.

 

Did you enjoy today’s snippet?

 

Tempted by a Rogue Prince

Felicity Heaton

An elf prince on the verge of losing himself to the darkness, Vail is maddened by the forty-two centuries he was under the control of a witch and forced to war with his brother. Now, he roams Hell seeking an escape from his terrible past and the heads of all who bear magic. When demons of the Fifth Realm capture him, he sees a chance to end his existence, but when he wakes in a cell to a beautiful female, he finds not death but his only shot at salvation—his true fated mate.

Captured by the enemy of the Third Realm when the war ended, Rosalind has spent months in the cells of the Fifth Realm with her magic bound, forced to heal the new king’s demon warriors, and haunted by the lives she has taken. When she’s brought to heal an unconscious man, she discovers her only hope of escape has come in the form of her worst nightmare and the first part of a prediction that might spell her doom—a devastatingly handsome and dangerous dark elf prince.

Unwilling to fall under the control of anyone ever again, Vail must escape before the Fifth King can use him as a pawn in a deadly game of revenge, but he cannot leave without Rosalind, the woman who looks at him with dark desire in her stunning eyes and awakens a fierce hunger in his heart. A witch who drives him mad with need even as the darkness within whispers she will enslave him too.

Can Rosalind escape her fate as they embark on a journey fraught with danger and resist the temptation of her rogue elf prince? And can Vail overcome the memories that madden him in order to seize his chance for salvation and the heart of his fated female forever?

Available in e-book from:

Amazon Kindle Stores:

USA/International | UK | Germany | Canada | Australia

Apple iBookstores:

US | UK | Australia | Canada | New Zealand

Other Retailers:

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

 

Available in paperback from:

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk

 

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)

 

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 first book in my popular Eternal Mates romance series. Read on for this Tuesday’s tease…

 

 

The prince looked deep into her eyes and then she was in his arms, held close to him, and they were kneeling together on the floor.

Familiar scents swirled around her and she instantly felt more relaxed. “What did you do?”

He drew back from her and she found that he had taken her home and they were kneeling in the middle of her small living room on the cream carpet, between the beige sofa and the TV.

The prince brushed cool fingers across her brow. “You feel better now.”

She nodded, her heart levelling out again, the soft feel of the carpet beneath her knees and the familiar surroundings making her feel comforted and safe.

He sighed.

“I cannot remain here… and that means you cannot either… but I will not rush you,” he said in a low voice, one laced with a solemn note.

She appreciated that because she could see how difficult this was for him. He was a man used to issuing orders and having someone instantly obey. He was a man unused to having a weakness and she knew that was what she was. She didn’t want this bond between them either. She wanted it undone or broken or just gone somehow. She didn’t care how.

“Is there a way to undo it?” she whispered, afraid to hope that there was.

“It is possible it may fade if we do not complete it. I will have my men look into it and we will know soon enough if it is possible to break the bond. If it is possible, you will be free to go.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “And if it isn’t?”

“If it is not possible, then my only choice will be to complete the bond. Completing the bond will restore my strength, because it will make you immortal, stronger.” He held her gaze, unflinching as she glared at him, thinking about giving him another piece of her mind. “You must understand… I must defeat my enemy and to do that, I need to regain my strength, whether that is through breaking or completing our bond.”

In other words, she wasn’t getting a choice. He was just going to make that decision for her.

“I don’t want this bond. I’m stating that for the record. I didn’t ask you to bite me and drag me into this mess. I don’t want it completed. I want it gone.”

“I will do all I can. I will have my best researchers on it as soon as we return.”

Olivia shook her head. “I’m not returning. That’s another thing. I want to stay here until we know for certain.”

His black eyebrows pinched together. “I cannot allow that. You will be vulnerable here.”

Olivia held her ground, refusing to give an inch. “Can’t one of your men stay with me, like a bodyguard?”

His expression darkened and his ears went pointier again. His voice was a thick growl as he spoke, his fangs brushing his lower lip. “You wish for another male to keep you company?”

Not what she had said at all but clearly that was what he had heard, and he didn’t like the idea one bit. Was the dark possessive snarl in his deep voice a result of the bond too or was it because he felt attracted to her? She hadn’t failed to notice the desire that shone in his eyes at times either. Was that the bond at work? A fragment of her heart hoped it wasn’t. Olivia squashed it.

“Listen, Buddy, you don’t seem to want to stay with me and you won’t let me stay alone, so what other option do we have?” She prodded his chest, driving her point home so he wouldn’t be able to miss that she wasn’t going to roll over and do whatever he commanded.

“You will come with me.” Clearly, he hadn’t got the message at all.

“I damned well will not,” she snapped and he leaned back, frowning at her. She could tell he wasn’t used to people speaking to him like that but he was going to have to get used to it if he was going to be hanging around her. Maybe if she were caustic enough, he would let her have her way. “I have work to do and I don’t need another boss in my life. One is enough, thank you very much. You caused this mess and that means you have to do some major sucking up… starting with allowing me to continue my work.”

He snarled and Olivia bravely stood her ground. Or sat it. She realised that they were still sitting together with his arms around her. He hadn’t made a move to release her and she didn’t think he would. For all his growling, he clearly felt possessive of her. Because of her blood and the bond?

Olivia didn’t like it. Not one bit. She didn’t like how her feelings towards him were mercurial either, swinging from anger one moment to desire the next. The last time she had felt attracted to a man, she had ended up duped and then disgraced, and she wouldn’t let it happen again.

“I cannot allow you to continue your work, because… because…” The demanding prince lost for words? This was a new one.

“Because what?” she barked, trying to force him to spit it out. She really wanted to know his insane reasoning so she could rip it apart.

“Because that would mean you desire to take one of my men into your laboratory.” His expression hardened, his purple eyes verging on black. “Men there would desire to harm them.”

She couldn’t rip that one apart. If he had spouted the answer she had anticipated, stating she desired one of his men, she probably wouldn’t have had the heart to rip that apart either. At this point, if he looked at another woman, she would probably go all growly too.

What the hell was wrong with her?

It was the bond. She was blaming the bond. She had been wrong the night they had met. It hadn’t been blood loss that had made her feel attracted to him, hazy and hot whenever he touched her or looked at her. It was this stupid bond.

“We would want to study them, not hurt them.” Although she could see why he had reservations about it. He wanted to protect his men. “If a demon or fae isn’t a threat to mankind, then Archangel doesn’t hurt them. Besides, I would like to run some blood work and see if there is something I can do about this bond. If I have a sample of your blood and my blood, and perhaps some blood from an elf who isn’t bonded, then I might be able to see how we’re connected.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that.”

Olivia sighed at the incredulity in his tone and then reminded herself that he was five thousand years old and hadn’t been in the human world in four of those. He might not have a clue about the progression science had made in those four thousand years.

“Listen… I’m a scientist. Studying demon genetics and physiology is what I do for a living, and I’m very good at it. I know a lot about demon and fae, as well as human, genomes. If this bond is somehow physical… a change at a base level in our bodies… I might be able to find it and find a way to reverse it. At least let me try.”

He stared blankly at her for long seconds, as though trying to decipher what she had just said, or maybe he was impressed that the little human female knew things he and, probably, his people didn’t have a clue about. Finally, he released her and rose to his feet in one effortless fluid movement.

Olivia used the couch and scrambled to hers. Her feet tingled, numb from the awkward kneeling position. She scrunched her toes, trying to clear the pins and needles so she could walk without making a fool of herself.

The prince paced a short distance away from her, his handsome face locked in a troubled expression. He still looked too damn gorgeous for his own good whenever he turned pensive. Olivia looked anywhere but at him, thinking about how she could convince him to let her do her thing while his men did theirs. She was sure that the answer to the bond lay in their blood. It had to be something like that. A change on a molecular level.

“What is your name?” He turned to look at her and she lifted her chin. His eyes captured hers again, their incredible colour still fascinating her.

“Olivia.” It was on the identity badge pinned on her left breast pocket but she didn’t mention it. Making a prince look like a fool when he was already on the edge would probably tip him over it and she preferred him calm. And pensive.

He padded towards her, his steps silent on the carpet, but she knew he wouldn’t have made a sound had he been walking on solid stone. He held his hand out to her. “Loren.”

Loren. A very noble sounding name. One that suited him. Prince Loren.

Olivia slipped her hand into his. A shiver of current shot up her arm as they came into contact. The way his pupils dilated, swallowing his purple irises, told her that he had felt it too.

“Olivia,” he said, his foreign accent and deep voice combining to make her name sound exotic and sensual, leaving her wondering how it would sound if he husked it close to her ear. She shook herself out of her dirty thoughts. She wasn’t going there. Never. His fingers closed around hers and he drew her closer, and she lost awareness of the world again, falling back into his eyes. “I will escort you to your laboratory.”

She blinked. He was going to let her continue her work and was going to be the one to stay here with her? That surprised her until it dawned on her that he would sooner risk himself than one of his men.

She could see he was a prince as he stood before her, tall and beautiful, noble and willing to step into the lion’s den to protect his men from those he believed would seek to harm them, offering her a diplomatic solution to their problem and patiently awaiting her answer.

Olivia felt as though he had just offered her a second shot at regaining her status within Archangel too and she wasn’t going to waste it.

She nodded and shook his hand.

“Agreed.”

 

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)

 

Cover Reveal – Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7)

It’s the cover reveal day for Her Avenging Angel, the next novel in my Her Angel romance series! Check it out below and be sure to let me know what you think in the comments, oh, and don’t forget to sign up to my newsletter if you want to be in with a chance to win a signed paperback copy! Details are below the shiny cover…

Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7)

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?

Read on for a sneak preview of Her Avenging Angel!

Her Avenging Angel is due for release in ebook and paperback on October 11th 2014 and will be available from all major online book retailers. Pre-order links available at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/her-avenging-angel-romance-book.php

Join my mailing list to receive a notification when Her Avenging Angel is released, PLUS a sneak preview of the first 6 chapters of the book and chances to WIN a signed paperback copy: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/newsletter.php

Add the book to your Goodreads shelf at: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20940849-her-avenging-angel

Books in the Her Angel paranormal romance series:

Book 1: Her Dark Angel – FREE in ebook at selected retailers

Book 2: Her Fallen Angel

Book 3: Her Warrior Angel

Book 4: Her Guardian Angel

Book 5: Her Demonic Angel

Book 6: Her Wicked Angel

Book 7: Her Avenging Angel

 

EXCERPT

Lysia hovered by the entrance of the inn, unsure whether to enter or leave. Her stomach gurgled again, making her decision for her. She had to stay. There were colourful glass bottles lining the wall to her right and demons there were serving drinks to people who lined a long black bar. If they had mead and other liquids then perhaps they had food for her.

She moved deeper into the room and everyone turned to stare at her, their eyes wide. She frowned at them all. Why did they stare? She thought them all strange but she wasn’t being rude by staring at them. If she hadn’t been so hungry, she would have asked them, or forced them to tell her the reason.

She pushed through a group of male demons, all of which were wearing their human forms, and they turned on her. Their growls died as their eyes fell on her and they parted, staring as she passed.

Lysia leaned against the tacky black bar top.

A man walked over to her, tossed a rag over his shoulder, and smiled.

“What’ll it be?”

“I require sustenance.”

He frowned, a puzzled edge to his dark eyes, and shook his head.

Lysia tried again. “I must eat.”

He waved his right hand and another man joined him, a blond with pale eyes.

“Problem?” the blond said.

“Not getting this one,” the brunet responded.

The blond raked his eyes over her, his right brow quirking. “Taking things a bit far, aren’t we? You want something?”

She nodded. “I need sustenance.”

He looked at his friend and shrugged. “I don’t understand her.”

What was there to understand? She only wanted food.

Blood.

The two men walked away, serving others who seemed to have no problem ordering what they desired and receiving it. She cursed them and everyone who communicated with them with ease. While she could understand many languages, she could write and speak only one. Without being able to speak to the serving staff, she had no chance of getting blood.

A woman beside her cast a glance her way, looked down at herself, and slipped off her seat and walked away, disappearing into the heavy crowd.

Lysia sighed, perched herself on the seat, and leaned on the bar with her forehead resting on her arms. She was warmer inside this noisy inn but still hungry, and still tired. She needed to feed. How?

A male stopped to her left.

She turned her head towards him and ran her eyes up from the waist of his impeccable crisp black suit to his shoulders and then his face. Vampire. She knew his kind and could see through his façade to the wretched monster beneath. He smiled, his fangs on show to her and his pale blue eyes swirling with ill intentions.

“Having trouble?” The dark-haired vampire leaned his left elbow on the bar beside her and she sat up.

She nodded. “I need to order blood.”

He frowned at her and her heart sank. He didn’t understand her either.

“What language is that? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with it. Can you mime what you want?” He shifted closer and she focused hard on every word he said, listening closely so she could grasp the words he used and use them too.

He smiled a little wider, and shifted a little closer. His gaze drifted down to her chest and back up again.

“Mime?” He made a show of using his hands to make shapes.

She was about to do as he asked when he danced his fingers over her left shoulder.

A cold shiver ran over her flesh and skated down her spine.

Lysia flicked her right wrist and hurled him across the room, scattering the crowd and ripping a few shocked gasps from them.

A male further along the bar looked her way.

She froze as her eyes met his, heat pulsing through her, a visceral throb that reached right down to her bones.



The male was handsome, but darkness clung to him, danger that called to her and lured her to him. There was evil in him.

He would know her tongue.

He raised a glass filled with green liquid and tipped his head, causing threads of his silver-white hair to fall and brush his brow. He swept them back and she caught a brief glimpse of tiny horns above his ears. Her belly flipped and heated.

“Kudos for giving Villandry hell,” he said above the thumping music, his deep rumbling voice doing funny things to her insides and turning her knees to rubber.

She presumed Villandry was the name of the vampire now picking himself up off the floor across the busy room. She wasn’t sure what kudos meant though.

Lysia swallowed her trembling heart, slipped off her seat and approached the pale-haired male with all the confidence she could muster when he was staring at her, his jade eyes burning into her body and setting her aflame.

Rousing strange feelings within her.

She halted beside him.

He swivelled to face her, set his drink down on the bar but kept his left hand on the stem of the elegant glass, and raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you naked?”

He held his right hand out and black material appeared in it. He offered it to her.

Lysia took it and stared at it, unsure what to do with it.

The male huffed, released his drink and stood, managing to tower over her despite the fact she was taller than the other females present. He moved closer to her and took the material back, but she didn’t notice it leaving her hands. The heat radiating from his big body washed over her, cocooning her in warmth and strengthening the feelings stirring in the pit of her belly.

She stared down at the strip of cut, hard muscles visible between the armoured plates around his hips and his breastplate. A warrior. Her heart accelerated. Her breathing quickened. She dragged her eyes back up to his face and found he wasn’t looking at her. He busied himself with slipping her arms into the garment he had made for her and she busied herself with memorising every sculpted plane of his face, from his straight nose and strong jaw, to his firm lips as they compressed into a mulish line.

She inched her gaze up higher, to the stunning jade eyes that were focused on their work with an intensity that made her ache inside with a desire to have them locked on hers with the same ferocity.

They shifted to meet hers and then dropped, a fascinating glimmer of shyness in them that lasted only a heartbeat before coldness swept in to wash it away.

He tugged the material closed over her front and tied a belt around her waist, fastening the garment in place.

“There,” he murmured, “now people will stop looking at you funnily, and you can stop looking at me funnily.”

He stepped back, a scowl darkening his striking eyes. She hadn’t been looking at him strangely. She was merely fascinated by him. Now that she was close to him, she could sense the depth of the darkness within him but something else countered it, something she could only describe as good. There was more to the male before her than she had anticipated, and it made the pull she felt towards him grow stronger.

She looked herself over. The sleeves were too long, concealing her hands, and the material reached her ankles. The garment covered all of her, leaving nothing on show. Had that been his intention?

“What do you want?” he said, bringing her focus back to him.

She lifted her eyes to meet his. “Blood.”

He back peddled, almost falling over his seat, a flicker of something dark crossing his handsome face. His eyes shone pure violet.

He had eyes like hers.

And he understood her.

“Leave me alone,” he barked and snatched up his drink with a shaky hand. He downed it, slammed the glass back onto the bar top, and shoved it forwards, away from him. “I’m not interested.”

Lysia frowned and shrank back. Why was he rejecting her company? He had given her something to wear, had seemed concerned about her, and now he was pushing her away. She clutched the robe over her chest in both hands and risked a step closer to him instead.

“I only desire blood… but I cannot order it.”

His violet gaze darted to her and away again. A shadow settled on his troubled features, turning them grim. He looked down into her eyes for long seconds, stealing all of her attention, sucking it away from the room and her surroundings.

He raised his hand and she flinched away, anticipating the strike.

It didn’t happen.

She squinted, remaining held away from him, and looked up into his eyes.

He cocked a single pale eyebrow and waved his left hand. The brunet male behind the bar came to them. He had been signalling the serving staff.

Lysia grimaced.

She had much to learn about this realm.

“Blood, straight up,” the white-haired male said.

The servant’s expression turned wary and he shifted foot to foot. “I’m not allowed to serve you blood, remember? You made me promise.”

He had? She canted her head, studying both men. Why had the man asked the servant not to give him blood? Did he drink it as she did?

The pale-haired warrior scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. He pressed both hands into the bar, digging his black claws into the wood, and leaned forwards, closer to the man.

“It is not for me. It is for the woman.”

The brunet shrugged. “She has to order it then.”

The warrior tipped his head back, screwed his eyes shut and sighed, and she felt he was searching for calm. He drew several slow deep breaths before opening his eyes again and fixing them back on the barman.

“I do not think she knows how,” he said.

“I tried, but the man didn’t understand me.” That brought his gaze back to her and she shivered under the intensity of it.

“That would be because you are speaking a language this man doesn’t know… one I don’t have a fucking clue about either but for some godforsaken reason I can understand you.” He shoved his fingers through his hair, clawing it back until it tugged at his forehead, smoothing the skin, and ground his teeth. He released his head, dropped his hands to his sides, and huffed as he leaned over, bringing his face close to hers. “Repeat after me if you desire… blood.”

She nodded, noting that it had taken a lot of effort for him to speak that final word. Why?

She leaned closer to him, trying to shut out the noise of the room so she could hear every syllable that left his lips.

She watched how they moved as he spoke. How his tongue moved. How his teeth moved.

Her focus shattered.

He had fangs.

Made for drinking blood.

Yet he had asked the man not to serve it to him.

And she had asked him to speak of it, something which had evidently pained him.

She stepped back and his pale eyebrows dipped low above his now-green eyes.

“I’m sorry. I have troubled you with my request.” She went to turn away but he caught her arm in a vice-like grip, holding her firm. She looked down at his black fingers around her and the claws that blended into the robe he had given her, and then up into his eyes.

He shook his head and spoke again, slower this time. “A glass of blood, please.”

Lysia swallowed to wet her parched throat and spoke the sounds he had made, repeating them several times over and growing in confidence when he smiled, making her heart flutter in her chest. He nodded and jerked his head towards the brunet behind the bar.

She turned to face him. “A glass of blood, puh-leeese.”

“We’ll work on that last bit,” the warrior muttered beside her, a touch of warmth in his deep voice.

The man nodded. “That’s ten quid.”

Ten quid?

What was a quid and where did she find ten of them?

“Money,” the brunet said.

She looked down at herself. As the warrior had clearly mentioned, and this man knew, she had come here naked. She had no coin.

The warrior huffed and slammed two pieces of reddish paper down on the bar top. “It’s on me. Plus my usual.”

The bartender looked displeased and Lysia feared he wouldn’t give her the blood because the warrior was paying for it, and had requested this man not serve him blood.

She bared her fangs and growled at the brunet, preparing to attack.

“Down girl.” The white-haired warrior caught hold of her arm again, wrapping long fingers around it, and heat blazed through her.

She looked across at him, her eyes wide. He glared at the bartender.

The man heaved a sigh, swiped the money off the bar, and walked away. A sharp spear shot through her heart and she tried to pull away from the warrior to follow the man, afraid he wouldn’t return.

The warrior’s grip on her arm tightened and he pulled her closer, until her backside bumped against his thighs. An achy shiver bolted through her and she spun to face him, catching the shock in his eyes before he covered it. He had felt it too.

“He will be back with your drink and then you can leave me alone,” he said in a gruff tone, released her and sat back on his seat, turning his profile to her.

Lysia’s heartbeat began to climb, awareness of the people around her creeping back in. The vampire was on his feet again and glaring at her. Others stared her way too. Some of them not mortal. She didn’t like how they watched her, not when she was weak.

Only the warrior felt as if he wasn’t a threat to her and that he would protect her rather than seek to harm her.

She didn’t want to leave his side.

The brunet returned as the warrior had said, bringing an elegant glass of green liquid for him and one filled with dark liquid. He set that one down in front of her and moved off to serve another patron.

The warrior eyed her expectantly.

He wanted her to leave.

Lysia sucked down a breath for courage and reminded herself that she was a warrior too and as powerful as any of these beings on her best day. Today was not her best day though and it was wreaking havoc on her courage, leaving her feeling vulnerable. She was injured, starving, and everything around her felt so alien and unfamiliar.

Except for him.

He made her feel safe.

She made sure she had all of his attention before she whispered, “Allow me to stay. The men here mean me harm.”

His face darkened, his jade eyes swirling into blazing violet, and he slid his deadly gaze towards those staring at her.

She felt their eyes leave her.

“Sit,” he growled, more a command than a request, and she obeyed.

She took the stool beside him, swivelled to face the bar and picked up her glass. She sipped the blood, her gums itching and fangs aching to descend. She wanted to gulp it down but it was such a small quantity and she didn’t think the warrior would buy her more.

It wasn’t enough to appease her hunger. It would only take the edge off it.

She would need more and her heart said she knew where she wanted her next meal to come from.

Her gaze slid to the warrior, settling on his strong neck and the pulse hammering there, powerful and steady, a beat that called to her.

She wanted to bite him.

 

Her Avenging Angel is due for release in ebook and paperback on October 11th 2014 and will be available from all major online book retailers. Pre-order links available at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/her-avenging-angel-romance-book.php

Join my mailing list to receive a notification when Her Avenging Angel is released, PLUS a sneak preview of the first 6 chapters of the book and chances to WIN a signed paperback copy: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/newsletter.php

Add the book to your Goodreads shelf at: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20940849-her-avenging-angel

 

Books in the Her Angel paranormal romance series:

Book 1: Her Dark Angel – FREE in ebook at selected retailers

Book 2: Her Fallen Angel

Book 3: Her Warrior Angel

Book 4: Her Guardian Angel

Book 5: Her Demonic Angel

Book 6: Her Wicked Angel

Book 7: Her Avenging Angel

Manday Hotties – Wet and Wild Sexy Guys

 

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

 

Which shot is your favourite? I’m loving #2′s cheeky smile…

 

Visit the other blogs in the hop: