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February 20, 2018 Talking Tuesday – Character Q&A With Loren from the Eternal Mates Series
February 10, 2018 Valentine’s with Bite Giveaway!
February 8, 2018 Throwback Thursday – be Claimed by a Demon King this week!
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First in Series
Category Archives: Her Angel Series
Want to get your hands on a signed paperback copy of HER SINFUL ANGEL? Here’s your chance!
This giveaway is international and will close at 12:01am on November 23rd 2015. Just fill in the Rafflecopter form to be in with a chance to win!
ABOUT HER SINFUL ANGEL
Cast out of Heaven and now the king of Hell, Lucifer is a powerful fallen angel warrior with a heart as cold as ice and soul as black as the bottomless pit. For millennia, he has ruled his realm with an iron fist as he plots the demise of his ancient enemies. When one of those enemies dumps an unconscious mortal female in the courtyard of his fortress and leaves her there, Lucifer finds himself entranced by the beguiling beauty and tempted beyond all reason. But is the enchanting Nina an innocent pawn in the eternal game or part of a plot against him?
Read an excerpt: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/her-sinful-angel-romance-book.php
ENTER THE GIVEAWAY
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Happy New Year! My post is a little late but I was caught up in the craziness of releasing Hunted by a Jaguar (Eternal Mates paranormal romance series book 4) on January 6th and things haven’t really settled down yet as my next release, Craved by an Alpha (Eternal Mates paranormal romance series book 5) hits virtual shelves on January 27th. It’s all go in 2015!
I wanted to make a post looking back at how wonderful 2014 has been for me, thanks to you guys, and what’s in store for me in 2015.
2014 rocked! Together with a fantastic group of authors, I became a New York Times bestseller and hit the USA Today bestsellers list again. The Eternal Mates series really took off, much to my joy as I love writing in this world, and now I can happily write books for it to my heart’s content. I met plenty of wonderful new readers on my social networks, received some amazing reviews for my books, and I think I strengthened existing bonds with my readers. I also managed to smash my word count target for the year, hammering away 569,000 words to beat the 400,000 words goal. I even hit my reading target of devouring 20 books during my down time!
I’m hoping that 2015 will rock just as hard! I have exciting plans with the same group of authors I’ve been working with the past couple of years, lots of book releases on the cards if the gods are kind and let my schedule run as planned, intend to read another 20 books, and I have another 400,000 word count to achieve. How am I going to achieve that word count?
Well, regulars to my blog or Facebook will know I’m currently working on wrapping up book 7 in my Eternal Mates series, which will release in March. Once this book is done, I’ll be working on a novella for the Vampire Erotic Theatre series, one for the Eternal Mates series, and one for the Her Angel series. After those are done, I’ll be editing the first book in my Guardians of Hades series and writing the next two novels. I’m also hopeful that I can get a novella written for the Vampires Realm series and ready for release towards the end of the year. As I said above, this is all dependent on the gods being kind and my muse being as productive as ever.
Here’s what my release schedule will hopefully look like when we’re looking back on it in January 2016 in my New Year’s post then:
January 6th 2015 – Hunted by a Jaguar (Eternal Mates #4)
January 27th 2015 – Craved by an Alpha (Eternal Mates #5)
February 17th 2015 – Bitten by a Hellcat (Eternal Mates #6)
March 10th 2015 – Taken by a Dragon (Eternal Mates #7)
May 2015 – Untitled Novella (Vampire Erotic Theatre #6.5) – Victor and Elizabeth’s story
June 2015 – Untitled Novella/Novel (Eternal Mates #8) – Harbin’s story
July 2015 – Untitled Her Angel Novella (Her Angel #7.5) – the Devil’s story
Date TBC 2015 – Ares (Guardians of Hades #1)
Date TBC 2015 – Valen (Guardians of Hades #2)
Date TBC 2015 – Esher (Guardians of Hades #3)
Date TBC 2015 – Untitled Novella (Vampires Realm) – Tynan’s story
I may or may not manage the final one. It all depends on time really. It might end up pushed for another book entirely or just moved into early 2016. Or a bit of both.
So, leave a comment and be sure to let me know whether you’re excited about my release line up this year!
Nevar turned down the alley that would bring him to Cloud Nine.
He stopped and frowned. The sign was off and there was no queue of mortals, but the club was open. What was going on? Only one way to find out. He walked towards the door.
The bouncer acknowledged him with a jerk of his chin and he pushed past the huge demon male and stepped into the club.
The lights were on inside, the colourful ones above the bar bathing the area and the demons milling around along its length. No music though.
His gaze sought the female he had met before, although he wasnâ€™t sure why. It had been days since his last visit. She would be long gone, and it was stupid of him to hope that she would still be around, or remotely interested in him.
He headed for the bar, his eyes still scanning the demons for the woman even when he told himself to let her go and shove her out of his head.
A blonde cut into his path, her hands firmly planted on her hips, pale against her red jeans. A flicker of darkness danced in her eyes. Her stance caused her chest to jut upwards, showing off ample cleavage in her low cut black camisole. She narrowed her gaze on him and looked as if she was about to lose her pretty faÃ§ade, revealing the hideous monster that lurked beneath her skin.
And she was pissed about something.
He scanned the club again, frowning as he noticed that the demons present were jittery too, disturbed for some reason. Had something happened?
If it had, he wasnâ€™t sure why the boss was holding him responsible, and the intense glare she was giving him said she definitely thought it was his fault.
â€œDo something,â€ she snapped, sharp teeth flashing between her glossy red lips, and flicked her short hair away from her face.
He arched an eyebrow down at her. â€œI donâ€™t follow. What is your problem?â€
She turned and pointed, and the crowd parted.
Nevarâ€™s jaw almost dropped.
Asmodeusâ€™s head was tied in more knots than ever and every inch of him felt tense, and he couldnâ€™t convince his body to relax, not while he was drowning under the tidal pull of his thoughts. He wanted to get them straight and figure everything out, and come to understand this world and Liora, but the more he spoke to her and the more he saw of this realm, the more on edge and overwhelmed he became.
He hadnâ€™t meant to lose his temper with her, and he regretted dropping her from even a short height and shouting at her. Another first for him. He couldnâ€™t remember ever regretting anything before. He couldnâ€™t remember experiencing guilt before he had met Liora.
Her hand covered his, warm and slight, her light weight pressing it into the grass. She had fallen quiet and he wished that she hadnâ€™t. He liked the sound of her voice and the sharp note it had at times, a tone that told him she wasnâ€™t going to just back down and let him have his way.
He had felt powerless to leave her and had wanted to convince her to leave him, because he feared that the Devil would force him to obey his command to bring her to him. He had tried to draw a line between them, hoping to force her into seeing that he didnâ€™t subscribe to her mortal concepts of right and wrong, and that there was no good in him as she would view it. Rather what she viewed as bad, he saw as good.
She had been afraid at one point, he felt sure of it, but had rallied and refused to leave him, instead telling him that she knew he could protect her and she was safest with him.
Asmodeus didnâ€™t believe that, so he wasnâ€™t sure how she could. He had done nothing to prove himself worthy of her belief and she barely knew him. She probably knew Apollyon well, and together with Serenity and perhaps their friends, that male would be better able to protect her from the Devil.
He stared up at the stars, trying to ignore the creeping fear at the back of his mind. He refused to feel that emotion. He had feared the Devil in the past, scores of centuries ago, when he had been young and weak, and unsure of himself. With every decade that had passed, every victory on the battlefield and captive that had cracked from his torture alone, he had grown stronger and more confident, becoming fitting of the title the Devil had given him.
King of Demons.
A title he had to live up to or risk losing.
The Devil would strip him of it if he discovered that he had already met the female and was refusing to bring her to him.
He had to return to his master and learn more about why he wanted her, but he didnâ€™t think Liora would allow him to leave without a fight. She wanted him to stay.
Why? Continue reading
The gorgeous warrior followed behind her, a dark shadow barely a few feet from her, his footsteps almost silent.
They reached a split in the corridor and Erin paused. Neither of the avenues she could take looked inviting. Both were pitch-black and voices came from one. Or was it the other? Everything echoed in the corridors and it was hard to distinguish which would lead her to a grisly death and which would lead her to freedom.
She chose the right.
The man grabbed her around the waist from behind, twisted her in his arm, and slung her over his shoulder.
Erin struggled and his arm tightened against her back, causing his thick shoulder to press into her stomach. Her organs protested, sharp pain lancing each one.
â€œYouâ€™ll fall off. I need to move fast and youâ€™re slowing me down.â€
Well, that was just rude. Erin punched his backside. God, it was like a rock. She almost purred. Could this man get any smexier?
â€œYou canâ€™t carry me and fight your way out of here.â€
He laughed, the warm timbre of it echoing around the dark walls. â€œBelieve me, Sweetheart, I can fight with both hands tied behind my back. Youâ€™re no hindrance at all.â€
He jogged down the left corridor with her, each step jolting her on his shoulder until she felt close to losing what little remained of the last thing she ate. Erin grabbed his leather belt, hooked her thumbs into the waist of his jeans and pushed herself up enough that it didnâ€™t hurt as much as he ran.
This was just embarrassing now.
It was bad enough having her rescuer belittle her.
Having him carry her fireman-style to freedom was making her wish he had left her in her cell.
Warm fresh air assaulted her, as fresh as Hell got anyway, and she looked up to see the huge black walls of the prison fortress bouncing away from her.
â€œYou can put me down now,â€ she said but he didnâ€™t hear her. Either that or he was ignoring her. She was tempted to punch him on the backside again but gave up and let him have his way.
The jagged towers of the prison slowly wobbled into the distance and were lost from view behind the spires of black rock that lined the path her hero had chosen. Vents in their sides and tops belched hot acrid smoke that stole her breath. She pulled his black t-shirt up, exposing a lean delicious back, and covered her mouth with it. How the hell could he run in this?
Erin wanted to be sick.
She counted the bounces in his step to keep her focus off the horrendous smell of rotten eggs invading her lungs and the increasing number of bleached bones that lined the path as though someone had kicked the bodies out of the way and just let them rot there. Or perhaps some smaller creature had picked the bones clean. There were grooves in some of them, as though sharp teeth and claws had scraped them. Erin hoped it had happened after death and that the screams still ringing in her ears werenâ€™t the death cries of people being eaten alive.
The man managed over three hundred steps before he finally stopped and set her down with surprising care in a wide clearing.
â€œAre you alright?â€ He held her at armâ€™s length, looking her over.
Her blood heated when his dark eyes lingered on her breasts and then the tiny shorts she wore.
â€œDo you always dress like this?â€ He raised an eyebrow. Continue reading
â€œCome, we must move.â€ Asmodeus scooped her up into his arms and beat his wings before she could even form a response, taking off into the crisp night air.
It was getting chilly.
Liora used it as an excuse to cuddle up to his bare chest and was thankful he only had partial armour. It was much nicer curling up against hard hot flesh than it would have been rubbing against cold metal plates.
â€œYouâ€™re going to be in trouble, arenâ€™t you?â€ she said and the breeze carried her voice over his shoulder.
He beat his shadowy black wings and took them higher, until they were gliding above the city and she couldnâ€™t take her eyes off how beautiful it was. All the lights twinkled in the darkness and cars streamed down streets forming bright slashes of red and white. Boats caused the wide river to glow in places. The Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance.
â€œPerhaps,â€ he whispered and she felt his gaze shift to her, boring into the side of her face. â€œBut I have a feeling that you may be worth it.â€
She smiled at that. How could anyone think this man pure evil? She had only had to speak to him to know that while he held darkness inside him, and was capable of great cruelty and violence, there was still some good in him, hidden away beneath the vicious exterior he wore like a shield.
She turned her head to look at him but he moved his gaze away from her, looking down at the city as they flew over it instead. She drank him in, studying the nuances of his expression as his golden gaze flitted around, taking in the scene stretching below them. The wind ruffled his wild black hair and she ached to brush her fingers through it, combing it back and feeling its silkiness just as nature was allowed to do.
â€œWill the Devil send more men for me?â€ She feared the answer to that question even though she already knew it deep in her heart. Continue reading
â€œYou fight naked?â€ Nevar waited for a reaction to that, sure she would laugh at him.
She nodded. He looked her over again, recalling her curves and how they had inflamed him. Still inflamed him.
Fighting naked would certainly give her an advantage over a male opponent, but it provided no protection for her too.
â€œI can highly recommend armour.â€ He regretted it the moment it left his lips and she looked down at his, making it clear that she could see straight through his glamour to his real appearance. Her eyes danced over every piece of it, studying it so closely that he squirmed under the scrutiny.
He had loved his armour once, when it had been blue edged with silver, the colours of a guardian angel, and his wings had been stunning silvery-blue.
His contract with Asmodeus had turned it obsidian edged with violet and had corrupted his wings, turning them as black as Hell.
He could do nothing about either of them, no matter how deeply he wished he could.
So he kept his wings hidden so he didnâ€™t have to see them and did his best not to look at his armour. He had once considered giving it up and disposing of it somehow, but it provided protection, and he didnâ€™t think he could fight like the delicate-looking female currently staring in absorbed fascination at him.
Maybe he could fight naked with her.
His body stirred at that wicked thought and he shifted on his stool, hoping she wouldnâ€™t notice. She would probably toss him across the room if she did.
He would give anything to have that power.
Where did she come from? She wasnâ€™t mortal. She wasnâ€™t angelic. He didnâ€™t think she was demonic either.
She was something else.
And she was beautiful.
And he was sober again.
He didnâ€™t care. Not right now. She had all of his focus, fascinating him with every little thing she did.
She sipped her blood.
His stomach cramped, his fangs itched, and his hunger rose like a demon within him.
Nevar silently cursed the black-haired beauty for the millionth time and followed it up with a prayer for control and patience. He downed his drink, keeping him one step away from sober for the next minute at least. It constantly chased on the heels of each drink, his angelic constitution making it difficult for him to get tipsy, let alone drunk. The boss of Cloud Nine had made it the law that the bartenders were to cut him off if he made it past tipsy. She hadnâ€™t appreciated him setting up home in her club and drinking her dry in order to remain drunk, chasing her patrons away.
He needed another drink, if only to cope with the head fuck that was the woman beside him.
He had intended to leave the packed noisy club after his previous drink, having already downed twenty glasses rather than the one he had sworn he would have.
She had chosen that moment to walk into his life, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room, including his.
He could lie and say that the first thing he had noticed as the crowd had parted to reveal her was that she wasnâ€™t a mortal, but he was still feeling honest with himself, despite his best attempts to kill that part of his brain with alcohol.
The first thing he had noticed? That was how beautiful she was, with rich hazel eyes and sleek black hair. The second thing he had noticed was how that black hair reached down to her navel, two thick streams of it covering her breasts, but not concealing their dusky peaks.
The third thing had been that she had curves in all the best places, and that he had gone too long without a woman, because just the sight of her had had him steel-hard beneath his loincloth and armour.
That she wasnâ€™t a mortal had been the fifth thing he had noticed about her.
It had been the purity that shone from her, a touch of innocence that showed in how she reacted at times to the men around her and to him. Whether it was a stolen glance or a blush from her, it had him enthralled. Completely enchanted.
He had noticed many things since then, including that appearances were deceiving and she was powerful beneath that slender feminine exterior. The latest thing he had noticed was that she brought out a dangerous side of himself, one he had never realised the depth and strength of before tonight.
Since her confession that she felt the men here wanted to hurt her, he had found himself wanting to kill any male who so much as looked at her. He couldnâ€™t stop himself from contemplating tearing their heads off or gouging their eyes out with his thumbs. He wanted them all away from her, wanted to take them all down, all to ensure one thing.
The door opened behind her and Erin didnâ€™t make the mistake of whirling to face the visitor this time.
She turned slowly, expecting to find either the Devil or one of his cronies come to torment her.
It was neither.
A bloodstained and beaten man wearing tight black jeans that emphasised the thickness of his thighs and a black t-shirt that stretched across the impressive hard cut breadth of his chest stood in the doorway.
He was holding a very big sword.
Had he come to kill her?
She glanced back at the abyss below her feet. What would be a better and less painful death? Falling to this scarlet-haired manâ€™s sword or plummeting into the volcanic river?
â€œErin, I presume?â€ His deep voice wrapped around her and Erin couldnâ€™t miss the concern that laced the weariness and irritation in it.
Erin looked back at him.
He slid the broadsword down his back and scrubbed his hand across several daysâ€™ worth of dark growth on his handsome face.
One good-looking man had fooled her already and it wasnâ€™t going to happen again. This man was every bit as lethal, brutal and vicious as the Devil. It was there in his eyes and the way he held himself, legs spread in a warriorâ€™s stance, ready for a fight.
He looked as though he had already been through several battles recently. Now that she looked closer, she spotted tears in his t-shirt that revealed startlingly enticing glimpses of hard packed muscles.
Erin dragged her gaze down to her own feet.
She must have lost it in the past few days. She had finally plunged into crazy, her mind frazzled by her captivity and being in Hell. She had to be insane to be ogling the man who had clearly come to kill her.
â€œWhy donâ€™t you just do it and get this over with?â€ she said, feeling a spark of defiance ignite in her chest. If she was going to die, she might as well go down fighting.
â€œExcuse me?â€ He frowned at her, a quizzical look filling his dark eyes. â€œGet what over with?â€
â€œKilling me.â€ Continue reading