Felicity Heaton – TBR Book Blog

Blog Tour ~ Unchained by a Forbidden Love ~ by ~ Felicity Heaton

Unchained by a Forbidden Love (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 15) by Felicity Heaton – Book Tour and Giveaway!

Unchained by a Forbidden Love (Eternal Mates Romance Series Book 15)
Felicity Heaton

Lost to the darkness, Fuery wages a daily war against the corruption that lives within him, constantly in danger of slipping into the black abyss and becoming the monster all elves fear. Work as an assassin gives him purpose, but what reason is there to go on when he killed the light of his life—his fated mate?

Shaia has spent forty-two centuries mourning her mate. Tired and worn down, she agrees to wed a male of her family’s choosing, following tradition that has always bound her as a female and hoping she will be able to gain just a little freedom in return. But as she resigns herself to being the mate of a male she could never love, fate places an old friend in her path—one who tells her that her lost love is alive.

Will Shaia find the courage to break with tradition and leave the elf kingdom in search of her mate? And as a ray of light pierces his soul again, can Fuery find the strength to win his battle against the darkness or will it devour him and that light of their forbidden love forever?

Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win an Amazon Kindle Fire HD plus books 1-7 of the Eternal Mates series in e-book or audiobook at the Unchained by a Forbidden Love book page. This giveaway is international and open to everyone, and ends at midnight on January 28th. Enter now:

“Shaia?” A male voice curled around her and she frowned and looked around as they entered the fringes of the village, seeking the source of it.
None of the males coming and going along the avenues between the thatched houses were familiar to her.
“Do you know that male?” Eirwyn said and she glanced up at him, catching him scowling in the direction of the village square as he smoothed his ponytail, his actions clipped and reeking of irritation.
Shaia looked there.
A handsome male strode towards them along the broad road between the grey stone two-storey buildings, his fitted black tunic detailed with elegant pale green embroidery around the edges of the two long panels at the front that reached his knees, the matching ones at the back, and around the cuffs. Tight black trousers hugged his lean muscular legs, tucked into polished black knee-high riding boots. Their silver clasps reflected the light, dazzling her as much as his wide smile and bright violet eyes.
Eirwyn pulled a face beside her, and she could understand why. While his own tunic and trousers were fine and tailored for him, they couldn’t compare to the ones the male wore.
They bore symbols only those high in the court of Prince Loren could wear.
The male’s smile became a grin and he waved, glanced over his shoulder and said something to someone behind him, and then picked up pace, heading towards Shaia.
She blinked as she finally recognised him.
The miller’s son.
The last time she had seen Bleu, he had been a scrawny lad and had come home to the village to announce to his parents that he had been given the position of commander. His family had held a celebration in his honour, and Shaia had been invited, but had refused. The thought of seeing him in the finery of a commander and attending the celebration had been too much for her, and she had spiralled back into a depression.
Bleu had visited her the day after, and had apologised. He hadn’t been the one to send the invitations to the entire village. She had been grateful when he had told her he wouldn’t have invited her if he had and that he understood, and hoped it hadn’t hurt her too deeply.
She had lied then too, telling him that it hadn’t, when it had cut her deeper than any blade could have.
She moved forwards to meet him, pulling herself away from the past and managing to smile for him. This time, it felt genuine, warming her and chasing away some of the cold that seemed a permanent part of her now.
Her step faltered when a tall, beautiful female stepped out from behind Bleu, her violet-to-white hair matching her striking eyes. Those eyes darted around, taking everything in, not seeming to notice the way the males in the village looked at her, a mixture of admiration and fear in their eyes.
Shaia could understand their shock. It rippled through her too.
She had never seen a female dressed this way before.
Violet leather trousers hugged her long legs, paired with matching boots, and a white leather corset fitted snug to her torso, revealing a strip of toned stomach and a startling amount of cleavage.
Bleu glanced back at the female again, and then did the most shocking thing of all.
He snarled and flashed fangs at the males who were looking at the female, his pointed ears flaring back against his wild blue-black hair, and snapped in their native tongue, “Get your fucking eyes off my mate.”
The males bolted, leaving the female looking around her with a confused crinkle to her brow.
“Bleu?” the female whispered, her incredible eyes landing on him, and continued in the mortal tongue, “I said it was not wise for me to dress in my usual manner.”
“And I said I like you that way and people will deal with it. You don’t have to be something you’re not.” He caught the female’s wrist and tugged her into his arms, banding them around her in a way that caused a fierce sting in Shaia’s heart. “I love you just the way you are.”
The female blushed and pushed against Bleu’s shoulders. “You are making a scene.”
He shrugged and refused to release her. “Let them all stare. They’re just jealous.”
“That they might be, but I believe you are being rude to the elf female and her male looks displeased.”
Shaia risked a glance at Eirwyn. He looked positively aghast.
She wished she couldn’t understand why, because she wanted what Bleu and this female shared to be the accepted way of things, that such public displays of affection between a male and a female were not a faux pas or frowned upon by society.
That love in all its forms could be celebrated not scorned.
Bleu nuzzled the female’s neck and then drew back, and Shaia ached as she saw the marks on the female’s throat, twin scars that confirmed what Bleu had said. This female was his mate.
“I barely recognised you,” Shaia said, hoping to pull Bleu away from his female, because Eirwyn was rapidly losing patience and she feared he would pull her away if Bleu didn’t speak soon.
She wanted to know why Bleu had called out to her, and wanted to know more about the female, because she wasn’t elf. She was something else. Something strong, and powerful, and independent.
Bleu finally pulled himself away from the female, but kept his arm locked tightly around her waist, pinning her against his side in a way that sparked envy in Shaia.
She had been held like that once.
Eirwyn placed his hand against the small of her back and a weight instantly descended on her, pressing down on her heart and making her want to twist free of his touch. While Bleu’s grip on his female was possessive, it was born of love and a need of his female, a desire to be in contact with her at all times.
Eirwyn’s touch was possession of another nature, a show of dominance over her, marking her as belonging to him.
Bleu’s violet eyes narrowed on Eirwyn and he was silent for the longest time before he said, “I know your brother… Leif. He serves in my legion. I served your father, Commander Andon, once too. It was an honour.”
“Your legion?” Eirwyn’s tone held a trace of venom and a slight note of disbelief, and she had the sinking feeling that things were about to turn dire.
Before he could offend Bleu, Shaia stepped forwards and captured his focus. “Bleu is a commander, serving Prince Loren directly.”
Eirwyn cast a glance over Bleu from head to toe and back again, and she was surprised he didn’t curl his lip. “The same Bleu who was born to the mill on the outskirts of the village?”
“And now I see where Leif gets his lovely temperament and that lofty air. It clearly runs in the blood. I’ve had to beat it out of him a few times… so don’t think I won’t beat it out of you too.” Bleu held his free hand out to Eirwyn. “You may call me Commander Bleu.”
Shaia stifled the smile that wanted to curve her lips and schooled her features so Eirwyn wouldn’t see her amusement. If she had thought he had looked aghast before, she had been mistaken. Now he looked aghast, his mouth hanging open and face reflecting his astonishment.
It had probably been centuries since someone had spoken to him with so little respect.
It had probably been longer than that since someone had pulled rank on him.
Bleu’s steady gaze dropped to her as he lowered his hand. “Speaking of the legions… I have spent time with another male recently, one from the legions and one you know.”
Shaia frowned at him. She didn’t know anyone from the army but Bleu, and she barely knew him. She couldn’t think who he was talking about.
“You must be mistaken,” she said.
He cleared his throat and spoke very carefully, pressing each word home. “I believe you did know him once. I recall you telling me so in a town near the free realm. Do you not remember? It was forty-two centuries ago now so I can see why you have perhaps forgotten.”
Her heart started a slow, hard thump against her ribs. It wasn’t possible that he was talking about the one she thought he was, but she had only ventured near the free realm once in her lifetime, one reckless grief-fuelled moment four thousand two hundred years ago.
One moment where instinct had driven her there and she had come upon a battlefield, drenched in blood and scarred as deeply as her heart.
“Are you unwell?” Eirwyn’s hand against her back pressed deeper into her spine and she fought for air, for the words that would make him leave her alone and give her space to breathe.
She managed to shake her head and muttered, “I will be fine.”
Bleu watched her closely.
He was so different to how he had been that day, when she had gone looking for her love, desperate to find him alive even when she had known he was gone.
Bleu had told her then that the male she was looking for hadn’t come in with the wounded, that he was dead.
Now he was telling her that male was alive?
It wasn’t possible.
But what if it was true?
Gods, what if he really was alive and had been all this time?
Her throat closed as all her strength rushed out of her and she struggled to breathe, rasped as she sucked down shallow pants of air and her mind raced as quickly as her thundering heart.
She could feel Eirwyn’s eyes on her, intent and focused, and could sense he was close to making another attempt to smother her. She had to speak.
“Would you introduce me?” Her voice shook and she quickly gestured to the female beside Bleu when he cocked an eyebrow, making it clear she hadn’t meant the male he had spoken of but his mate.
Or had she?
Gods.
If she asked it of him, would he take her to that male?
Was it really possible that he was alive?
Everything in her screamed that it wasn’t and Bleu was mistaken. Her heart had shattered when her love had died. She had felt it.
“This is Taryn, my mate.” He beamed at her, male pride and a lot of love shining in his eyes.
“I am pleased to meet you, Taryn.” Shaia turned to Taryn and focused on her to subdue the questions racing through her mind and give herself a moment to breathe.
The contrast between them struck her again. Suddenly, her green elven dress felt as if it was swamping her frame, designed to hide her body rather than make the most of it. The long sleeves had always irritated her when other females were allowed to wear dresses without them, and the fact it dragged on the floor was often highly impractical, but it was another elf tradition, and one she would dearly love to shatter.
She tried to picture herself dressed as Taryn was, wearing tight leather and a revealing corset, and failed dismally.
Her own corset sat over her dress, made of wrought silver swirls that felt as if they were crushing her ribs and her breasts rather than supporting her, cinched down the sides with ribbons. Some elf females dared to wear dresses that were lower cut, and corsets that revealed more bosom.
Shaia had tried that once, and had been banished to her room in her parents’ home for one cycle of the moon.
She couldn’t openly dress as she wanted, but she often did her best to break with convention when she could.
She always wore sturdier and cheaper clothing at her small home away from the village, a basic blouse paired with a long skirt. She would roll up the sleeves and open the buttons down the front to allow air across her skin as she worked, and sometimes lazed in the private garden with her skirt hitched up to reveal her legs as she soaked in the sunlight.
“Where do you come from?” Shaia couldn’t even guess at what species Taryn was, but every instinct she possessed said that the female was strong, born of a breed with powers possibly more impressive than her elf mate’s ones.
Taryn pointed north-east, to a place beyond Eirwyn and the high peaks on the horizon. “The land of dragons.”
Shaia’s mouth dropped open and she snapped it shut before anyone noticed. A dragon? Incredible. She had a thousand questions she wanted to ask Taryn, but Eirwyn was watching her closely again, seemingly waiting for her to break with convention.
She smiled and forced herself to respond with just a single word. “Fascinating.”
It wasn’t against society’s rules for her to be fascinated by something. Eirwyn couldn’t pick her up on it.
The pang of envy returned as Bleu tugged Taryn a little closer, gazed at her through adoring eyes and looked as if he would die if she asked it of him. Taryn stood tall beside him, her head high, and violet-to-white eyes leaping around, taking everything in again. She glanced at Bleu and then away again, and began speaking in another tongue.
Bleu responded, a smile in his eyes as he spoke with his mate.
Gods.
Shaia’s heart beat painfully hard at the sight of them, at the way Bleu indulged her and the way Taryn stood at his side like an equal, commanding his attention and not held back by him. He didn’t stop her when she broke away from him, turning in a slow circle, her eyes leaping back to him from time to time as she spoke. She pointed towards the mills and he turned, carefully caught her hand and swung it towards one in particular.
The one his family owned.
Her eyes lit up and she said something else.
Bleu smiled again, spoke to her and then looked back at Shaia.
“She’s eager to meet the family. She’s convinced she won’t be accepted and until I get her there and she sees that they’ll love her just as much as I do, she’s going to keep slipping into the dragon tongue. Either that or she’ll get so wound up she’ll want to fly and people in these parts are jumpy enough about a stranger, let alone a dragon.” He grinned, as if he actually liked the idea of Taryn shifting and terrifying everyone.
Shaia found she liked the idea too.
It would certainly brighten her day, if not her life and this dull little village.
Eirwyn pressed harder against her spine. “We should be going.”
Panic lanced her and her eyes shot to Bleu, and she blurted, “How is our friend?”
Her voice shook as badly as her hands and she feared her intended would see it, but there was no way she could contain it, not when she was speaking about him.
Her lost love.
Bleu’s expression turned grave. “Unwell. The perils of being an assassin I suppose. It is dark work.”
That terrified her as much as it delighted her. Bleu was trying to tell her everything she needed to know in a coded manner. He was giving her clues that she could follow. The male she had thought had died was alive, but terribly sick if she was interpreting Bleu’s words correctly.
Tainted.
Gods, she needed to find him. She needed to scour every assassin’s guild until she was with him again and could pull him back from the darkness.
That desire shattered when Eirwyn spoke, reminding her that she wasn’t free to do as she pleased. “We must move on now.”
Shaia’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked to Bleu, desperate to learn more from him but aware that she couldn’t remain any longer. Her purple eyes shifted to the dragon beside him, and courage bloomed, strength that she thought had died long ago with her male.
“Thank you,” she said to Bleu as Eirwyn caught her wrist and pulled her away, her heart soaring as she looked back at him and his mate.
The dragon was free, powerful and independent. Bleu’s sister lived her life that way too.
All it took was courage.
She could be independent too.
She could find the male she had thought she had lost.
She could find her mate.

Book 1: Kissed by a Dark Prince (FREE AT SELECTED RETAILERS!)
Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King
Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar
Book 5: Craved by an Alpha
Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat
Book 7: Taken by a Dragon
Book 8: Marked by an Assassin
Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior
Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness
Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death
Book 12: Turned by a Tiger
Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger
Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger
Book 15: Unchained by a Forbidden Love

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.
If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.
If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Blog Tour ~ Treasured By A Tiger ~ by ~ Felicity Heaton

Treasured by a Tiger (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 14) by Felicity Heaton – Book Tour and Giveaway!

Treasured by a Tiger (Eternal Mates Romance Series Book 14)
Felicity Heaton
Despised by his tiger shifter pride as an abomination, Grey has ventured far from home, deep into the bowels of Hell in search of answers about the machinations of Archangel, the mortal hunter organisation who held his twin captive. With no knowledge of the realm, and little skill with the local languages, he quickly finds himself at a dead end—until he crosses paths with a beautiful hellcat female who rouses his darkest most dangerous instincts.

Lyra has been a fool, falling for the charms of a male whose only desire was to make a fast buck by selling her. Shackled and collared, her strength muted by magic, she awaits her time on the stage at a black-market auction, but before it can come, all hell breaks loose and she seizes a chance to escape—and runs straight into a majestic warrior who steals her breath away and tempts her like no other as he battles alone to free everyone.

When Lyra offers her services as a translator to repay Grey for saving her, will he be strong enough to resist the needs she awakens in him and spare himself the pain of her inevitable rejection when she discovers the truth about him? And when the powerful male in charge of the slave ring starts a bloody hunt for Lyra, can she escape another collar and find the courage to trust the tiger who is capturing her heart?

Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win a $25, $50 or $75 Amazon Gift Card at the Treasured by a Tiger book page. This giveaway is international and open to everyone, and ends at midnight on September 24th.

Grey was beginning to think it had been a mistake to let his emotions get the better of him.

Sure, the fight to free the captives held in the procession had been satisfying, and easy.

The few demons that had been leading the slaves across the valley hadn’t been difficult to take down in his tiger form, mostly because the first two hadn’t seen him coming. The third had tried to run, and the fourth had been too dumbstruck to put up much of a fight.

When they had all breathed their last, he had shifted back and freed the captives, a sense of satisfaction rolling through him.

Until he had stood alone in the valley, and had grown aware of the lights in the distance, of the fact that others were there, locked in chains and fitted with collars.

About to be sold to the highest bidder.

A black rage had come over him, swift to consume him.

He had shifted in a heartbeat, and had been sprinting across the valley in the next, determined to reach the black market and put an end to what was happening.

The moment he had seen the stage and the bastards filling the space in front of it, waving numbers and shouting bids, the moment he had scented the fear of at least a dozen people, all of them different species, he had lost it.

Two guards had met death at his claws and fangs.

A third had hit him hard enough to drive him back out of his tiger form.

Which was never a problem.

He could fight in both forms, had honed his skills over the three centuries he had been alive, all so he could protect his charge, Maya, and his family.

So he could protect the damned pride too, he supposed, although they didn’t particularly deserve it.

Or want it.

He pushed thoughts of the pride out of his head as he grappled with a fae male of some kind. He whipped his head forwards, cracking the male’s skull with his brow, and the male grunted and staggered backwards, clutching his head. Grey didn’t give him a chance to escape, or gather himself. He launched at the male, grabbed his head in both hands, and twisted hard, snapping his neck.

The male dropped lifeless to the floor.

Most of the bastards who had been bidding on the auction had fled, but a few had remained, obviously hungry to make sure they got whatever poor soul they had purchased. One of them was frantically arguing with the demon Grey had figured was in charge, a burly male who stood on the stage, protected by three guards and showing zero inclination to join the fight.

Was he so sure that Grey would meet his end before he reached him?

There were only a handful of enemies between him and the male now.

A sudden surge of people rushing towards him had him growling and hunkering down, preparing for them to attack him. He frowned as they ran straight past him, some of them not stopping while others joined the fight.

Shackles clanked and chains jangled as they attacked the guards that had been on his to-do list.

The slaves.

Someone had freed them.

He looked off to his right, towards the cages he had spotted earlier, and his gaze caught on something as a roar sounded.

Something incredible.

Blue flames lit the darkness around the sleek black-panther-like feline as it faced off against two demons, shimmering over the entire length of its body.

A chill chased over his skin as he stared.

A hellcat.

He had read about them, but he had never seen one.

The closest he had come to seeing one was Maya, and she only had the black nails of a hellcat when she lost her temper. Their mother had told him once that he had the eyes of a hellcat, pure cerulean, like precious gems, and it was the smattering of hellcat blood that remained in him from his ancestor cross-breeding with one that had given him those eyes.

Their mother had been a bit of a romantic.

It wasn’t whatever trace of hellcat genes he had that had given him blue eyes.

It was his deformity.

The hellcat edged backwards, away from the two demons with their damned batons.

No.

The hellcat limped backwards.

Grey growled and stalked towards the males, fury boiling in his veins, a need to kill them both for sinking so low as to attack an injured hellcat.

A female.

He caught her scent as he neared, and gods, his anger flared hotter in response, his claws emerging and his fangs growing long. A need to shift swept through him, but fear held it back, a feeling he didn’t understand as he set his sights on the smaller of the males.

The pain that had forced him out of his tiger form had ceased. He could shift. He was stronger as a tiger.

His gaze flicked to the hellcat.

Cold chased through him at the thought of her seeing him in his feline form.

Abomination.

He growled, and poured all the anger, the rage, he felt on hearing that word chanting in his head in the collective voice of his pride, into his attack. He closed the distance between him and the demon in a heartbeat, had his claws against the bastard’s throat in the next second, and had sliced it open on the third.

The male dropped hard as his life flowed out of him, revealing the hellcat.

Her eyes met his.

Bright pools of tropical ocean that he wanted to drown in.

He growled, scooped up the baton the demon had dropped, and hurled himself at the second male. The demon blocked his first blow, but the second connected, striking the male hard across his wrist.

Grey struck again, slamming the electric baton into the male’s chest point first.

The demon grunted and shuddered as the charge unleashed, pouring into him.

Out of the corner of Grey’s eye, the hellcat began inching away from him, dragging her rear left leg.

He couldn’t blame her for trying to escape when she saw the chance.

Shackles circled her front legs.

She had been a captive of these males, might have been sold if Grey’s temper hadn’t got the better of him.

Or the warlock hadn’t given him this location as a place to find mortals.

Grey had been an idiot to think the male had meant Archangel soldiers were here.

The male had presumed he wanted a mortal, and had pointed him in the direction of where to get his hands on one. A slave auction. It wouldn’t surprise him if the warlock had been on his way to buy a few poor souls for himself. He didn’t want to think about what a warlock might want with slaves.

The demon struck him across his right cheek, bringing him back to the fight and reminding him that now wasn’t the time to think about things.

It was the time to act.

Grey snarled through his fangs and brutally shoved his baton under the demon’s chin and pressed the button to unleash another blast of electricity.

It was enough to send the demon down and have him shaking uncontrollably.

Grey hit him again, a blast right into his temple, and held it there until the bastard stopped shaking and went still.

He picked up the male’s baton and twirled them both in his hands.

That left just the son of a bitch in charge of this disgusting auction.

Grey growled when he realised the male was gone.

The whole arena had emptied.

Leaving him alone with the hellcat.

He advanced towards her.

She turned and hissed at him, ears flattening against her head, fangs enormous. Her bright blue eyes warned him away, her flames growing larger, more violent as they danced over her black fur.

They stuttered a second later and she slumped, but was quick to pick herself back up and shake it off.

He dropped the batons to the black dirt, aware that it had been a mistake to keep hold of them when approaching her.

They had made her view him as a threat too.

The pain had her locked deep in her animal side, and that animal associated the batons with pain, and with her enemies, people out to hurt her.

Grey held his hands up at his sides. “I can feel you’re afraid.”

Which freaked him out a little.

He could sense Maya and Talon’s feelings, and Byron’s if he bothered to pay any attention to him, but he had always found it hard to get a bead on what others outside of his bloodline were feeling.

She was the first.

Was it just because she was broadcasting her emotions loud and clear to him because her animal was in control, her human mind suppressed by the instinct to survive and the need to shield it from the horror of what had been happening to her?

It had to be, because he didn’t want to think about it being anything other than that.

He risked a step closer.

She hissed again and swiped at him, right paw cutting through the air, leaving a trail of blue fire in its wake.

Her flames died down, covering only her paws and the tips of her twin tails, and fluttering around her mouth.

Because she was injured?

He glanced at her hind left leg, taking his eyes off hers for only a second.

In that split-second, she lunged forwards and slashed at him again, but still fell short. She wanted to fight him, feared him as much as she had feared the demons who had beaten her.

“I’m not like them,” he whispered and kept his hands held high, hoping she would see he was hardly a threat to her now. He was naked and unarmed. “I’m not going to hurt you… I just want to get you to safety. We can’t stay here.”

She growled and backed off, placing more distance between them, showing him that she wanted to escape this place as much as he did.

Probably more.

But with her injury, it was slow going. She made it barely three metres in the minute he watched her, and had to keep stopping, her flames dying down each time.

“You’re going to pass out if you keep pushing yourself.”

She looked back at him and hissed.

Grey sighed. “I get it. You’re angry, afraid… but I swear… I am not going to hurt you. I saved you, didn’t I? Why would I do that if I was going to hurt you?”

The look she gave him somehow answered him loud and clear.

Because he wanted to put another collar on her.

“Look… I’m not into that sort of thing. I came here to free everyone, not enslave them. I’m not like that.” He slowly kept pace with her as she began inching forwards again, stopping every time she did, keeping the distance between them steady. Voices sounded in the distance. She lifted her head and growled, and there was so much pain in it, so much fear in her, that he snapped. “I tried doing this the nice way.”

She growled as he closed the gap between them and he ignored her, let her smack him in the legs and try to drive him away.

He felt like a bastard as her fear increased, panic mingling with it in her scent.

She honestly viewed him as a threat.

He bent, grabbed her around her waist, and scooped her up into his arms. She hissed and wriggled, and he grunted as he tried to keep hold of her, which was a damned feat given her size. She was far larger than a tiger, and heavy with muscle that she was doing her damnedest to use against him.

“I can’t leave you to fend for yourself and you know people are coming… so you can bite and scratch me all you want, but I’m getting you out of here before they arrive.”

She could clearly understand him, but she took the invitation he had issued and raked claws over his shoulders as he twisted her in his arms. He slung her over his shoulder and held her hard over her back, but gently around her hips, aware of her injuries. As much as she obviously wanted to hurt him judging by the war she waged on his back with her claws, leaving fiery trails across his skin and filling the air with the scent of his own blood, he didn’t want to hurt her.

He swiftly carried her away from the battleground, heading back towards the mountain range in a direct line. She finally stopped trying to fight him when he reached its base and began to ascend, going still in his arms as he picked his way around boulders and up steep inclines.

For a moment, he feared she had passed out, but her low growls and occasional hisses, and the feelings he could sense in her said that she was still lucid.

Still angry.

He skirted the base of the mountain, his senses fixed as far and wide as he could manage, charting everything.

The people he had sensed drifted into the distance.

Good.

He dropped back down into the valley when he smelled his own scent, and found his backpack and clothes. The moment he put the hellcat down, she growled and tried to get away.

He sighed.

“Really?” He donned his trousers, boots and t-shirt, and then slipped his backpack on over his shoulders.

She got all of a couple of metres from him before he had her back in his arms.

She didn’t fight him this time.

He carefully carried her in his arms, which should have been the weirdest thing, cradling a huge feline like a baby, but he had done it once or twice with Maya when she had been younger.

Only this cat was infinitely more dangerous than Maya had ever been.

Blue eyes steadily watched him, pinned to his face as he carried her.

If she wanted, she could easily bite his head off in this position.

He just hoped she got the message that he trusted her.

And she started to trust him in return.

He looked down at her, strange warmth flooding his chest.

That sense of connection returned.

Deeper than before.

He dragged his eyes away from her, fixed them ahead and crushed the feelings she had brought to life inside him.

Whatever she was to him, it wasn’t going to happen.

If life had taught him anything, it had taught him this.

No one could ever love him.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.

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Cover Reveal ~ Treasured By A Tiger ~ by ~ Felicity Heaton

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Someone peered over his shoulder.

A black clawed finger landed on the piece of paper in front of him, close to his. “Here.”

Grey jumped and growled at the male beside him. The warlock. Wizard. Whatever the hell he wanted to be called. He reeked of magic and death.

Even the succubus backed off, her usual bright smile and sultry air turning cold and dark. She said something, and the male said something back at her, a bite in his tone.

“You speak English?” Grey didn’t want to talk to the male, but he wasn’t going to get anywhere speaking with the bartender or anyone else in the joint.

The male didn’t nod.

Not a good sign.

“This is here?” He pointed to the name on the piece of paper again.

The male nodded and looked around. “Here.”

It was a start.

“You speak her tongue?” Grey pointed towards the bartender. “Speak. Her.”

The male frowned, his icy green eyes darkening a shade, and looked at the female, and then back at him. “Yes.”

Getting there.

But the male didn’t really understand him. He couldn’t ask complicated questions and have him relay them to the bartender for her to answer, and the male wouldn’t know the answer to them himself since he was clearly just passing through and using the village as a rest stop.

He needed to boil it down into something the male might understand.

“Mortals. Humans.” It was worth a shot. He pointed to himself. “I’m looking for mortals.”

The male’s eyes lit up. He pointed east. “Mortals.”

Grey looked in that direction. East. The dragon realm and the Devil’s lands were east of here. He slid his blue gaze back to the male, his hackles rising and his animal side growing restless, prowling beneath his skin.

Was the male telling him the truth?

“Mortals?” Grey pointed east, along the length of the bar.

The male nodded and attempted a smile. It came off twisted and disturbing rather than reassuring.

“Definitely?” Because he was starting to get the feeling that the male was trying to get him killed. “Because dragons are that way.”

The male shook his head. “No dragons. Mortals.”

Grey pulled the map out of his trouser pocket, spread it across the bar top and jammed a finger against the area Sable had labelled as ‘here be dragons’ and had drawn what he imagined was meant to be a dragon, but it looked more like a snake fighting a spider.

“Dragons.” He tapped the paper.

The warlock shook his head again, his eyes darkening another shade and his thin lips flattening. He jabbed a black claw against a spot west of the dragons, and east of their current location.

“Mortals. There.”

So close?

Was it possible?

“Here?” Grey pointed to the map.

The male looked as if he was going to kill him if he asked again, an inky sort of darkness growing around his pupils to devour the pale green of his irises.

“Okay. Here it is. Got it. Thanks.” Grey bundled up his papers and his backpack in his arms and left before the male could even think about muttering a spell to flay his fur off his body.

He breathed deep as he hit the village square again, shaking off his nerves and the sensation that the male was trying to get him killed. He just smelled of death, that was all it was. It had put Grey on edge.

He looked back at the tavern. Even the succubi had avoided the male. He turned away from the village and headed east, glancing at the male’s tent as he passed it. It was set up a good distance from the rest of the tents and from the huts, placed right against the perimeter wall of the village.

That struck a chord in him.

The warlock had come to the village, but had separated himself from them, was keeping his distance even though he obviously wanted to be around others.

The male had been helpful, but because he had looked different to the others, Grey had found it difficult to trust him. He had judged him on his appearance, and had believed he wanted to kill him because of that. He was no better than the others.

He should have been.

Experience should have taught him something, should have made him react differently to the male, but he had treated him with suspicion, just like the rest.

Just like his pride had treated him.

All because he was different to them.

Gods, he was no better than them.

He hated that.

It weighed him down as he trekked east, following the lead the male had given him.

It took him across the valley basin to the foot of a low mountain range.

He looked along it in both directions, and then at his map. By his calculations, the quickest route would be over the mountains, because the range stretched in both directions for miles. If he tried to go around, it would take him at least another day to reach the destination the warlock had marked for him.

By then, Archangel might have moved on.

He adjusted his pack on his shoulders, huffed and started forwards, picking a path up the gently sloping side of the mountain. He crossed a trail around two hundred metres up and followed it as it wound through the sharp towering rocks and up through tall crevasses that sliced into the black mountain. The trail grew narrow near the top, heading towards a sweeping curve between two peaks.

He brought his pack around to his front and pressed his back against the black rock as he edged sideways along the path, his eyes on the steep drop to jagged rocks below and his heart hammering against his ribs. No damn way he was going to fall. He breathed through the fear, refusing to let it get to him, and looked to his right, focusing on the path instead.

It opened up a short distance ahead.

Relief was quick to sweep through him when his boots hit the wider path and the trail led away from the edge, over the ridge.

Gods, he was tired.

He pulled a cloth from his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow, and ran his other hand over his silver hair. He would rest on the other side. This high up the mountain, he was unlikely to run into any wild beasts. He could spare a few minutes to catch his breath and rest his legs. He unhooked the canteen from his pack, took a swig of the tepid water, and capped it and put it back again. He was getting low.

Thorne had warned him not to trust the water in Hell.

Apparently, some of it wasn’t water at all.

Grey didn’t want to know what that meant.

He figured it wouldn’t end well for him and that was enough to have him steering clear of hitting any stream he saw for a refill of his canteen.

He reached the top of the mountain.

His breath caught.

Good gods.

It was as if he could see the entire world.

Or at least all of Hell.

Beyond the valley far below him, steeper mountains rose, forming ridge after ridge into the distance, where the sky glowed bright gold. The Devil’s domain.

Hell was bleak, grim, but had a strange sort of beauty to it from up here.

He started down the mountain, his eyes leaping back to the view whenever they could, drinking it in. It was incredible. How big was Hell? He should have looked back in the other direction at the ridge to see if he could figure it out. Maybe he would stop there and drink it all in if he came back this way.

He picked out a spot to rest as he scouted the route ahead of him, a nice flat space just a little over halfway down the mountain and only accessible from one side, giving him some protection.

He was close to it when lights in the valley caught his eye.

He slowed his steps and tracked them as they flickered and danced, a row of flaming gold spots crossing the darkness, heading to his left, deeper into the valley.

Archangel?

He looked in the direction they were heading, and frowned. More lights glowed there. Another village? Or a base of operations for a mortal hunter organisation up to no good?

Thoughts of resting scattered and he marched down the mountain, intent on reaching the valley floor before the people walking towards the settlement reached it. He needed to find out if they were Archangel soldiers, and he needed to do it before they joined up with the others. He could handle a few hunters, but not an entire base of operations.

His boots skidded on the loose black shale as he hurried down the mountain, and he fought for balance more than once, attempting a controlled slide that would get him down into the valley quicker than using the paths.

When he hit the valley floor, he paused for breath, his eyes scanning the dimly lit world around him. He spotted the torches off to his left, about five hundred metres out from his current position. He drew down a deep breath, held it in his lungs to steady his heart and centre himself and exhaled slowly. His senses sharpened, his animal side rising to the fore, allowing him to see into the darkness ahead of him.

Allowing him to see the people crossing the valley.

Every inch of him stilled.

And then a slow burn started in his blood.

It wasn’t Archangel.

He growled low in his throat at the sight of the large male figures, at the thick chains they gripped, and the captives they dragged along behind them.

It was slave traders.

He caught a flash of the two tiger shifter females he had found huddled naked and terrified in their cages, held against their will by Pyotr, the male Maya had been promised to as a cub.

That burn grew hotter, fiercer, blazing white hot, and he curled his hands into fists, his emerging claws digging into his palms as his tiger side raged, battered his control and pushed him to react, to obey his instincts.

To protect.

No one deserved to be treated that way. No one deserved to be abused, mistreated, held captive and condemned to a life of fear.

He snarled through his fangs.

Dumped his backpack and stripped off his t-shirt.

These bastards were going to pay for what they were doing.

Book 1: Kissed by a Dark Prince (Only 99c at all retailers!)
Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King
Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar
Book 5: Craved by an Alpha
Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat
Book 7: Taken by a Dragon
Book 8: Marked by an Assassin
Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior
Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness
Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death
Book 12: Turned by a Tiger
Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger
Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Blog Tour ~ Turned By A Tiger ~ by ~ Felicity Heaton

On the verge of bleeding out and hunted by his merciless torturers, Talon has no choice but to seek sanctuary at Underworld, a nightclub run by a jaguar shifter liable to kill him on sight for being a tiger shifter male. What he finds in the old warehouse isn’t the grim shadow of Death though but an angel of mercy, one who offers him salvation and revenge—one who happens to be his fated mate.

Tending bar at Underworld is never dull when you’re a mortal surrounded by immortals, but when a gorgeous tiger shifter covered in blood stumbles into the club, and set’s fire to her boss’s temper, Sherry’s entire world is in danger of being turned on its head. Something about the mysterious warrior has her stepping in to save him, something that ignites her heart and stirs her soul, and no matter how fiercely she fights it, she can’t hold herself back.

When Talon reveals the name of his captors, and his plan to head back in to save his friends, will Sherry be brave enough to embrace the feelings he stirs in her and step deeper into the world of immortals? And will Talon be strong enough to resist the lure of Sherry to protect his family’s secret or will he risk everything to claim his eternal mate?

He lifted his head and Sherry sucked in a breath as bright amber eyes met hers and heat curled through her, a fire that only grew in intensity as a low growl curled from his bloodstained lips.

The club whooshed past her and she gasped as she flew backwards. She stumbled and grunted as the hand suddenly clamped around her right wrist hauled her upwards again, jerking her forwards and slamming her into a broad masculine back.

Kyter.

He held her behind him, shielding her with his body.

Why?

She hadn’t been in danger.

Not physical danger anyway.

She was no cat shifter but she had the undeniable sensation that growl hadn’t been a show of aggression.

It had been a show of possession.

A sign that even in his weakened state, knocking on Death’s door, this mysterious tiger shifter wanted her.

Sherry eased out of Kyter’s shadow, curiosity seizing control of her, filling her with a need to see the tiger. “What do you want?”

Those stunning amber eyes locked on her again, startling in their intensity. They seemed to brighten, glowing gold in their centres as he studied her. He wanted her. It was right there in his eyes for her to read, unmistakeable and undeniable.

Kyter snagged his attention again by moving a step forwards.

Tiger bristled, growling and snapping huge fangs, and then a flash of regret crossed his handsome rough face when Kyter huffed and folded his arms across his chest. The man shrank back, eased onto his butt on the floor and slumped wearily against the black bar.

When his chin dropped and his shoulders trembled, she lowered her eyes to his chest and the wounds that littered it, and then continued downwards to his stomach. The gash that darted across it was deep, still dripping blood.

“Who did this to you?” she whispered.

His lips moved soundlessly at first, repeating a single word, but then he managed to put his voice behind it.

“Archangel.”

Sherry found that hard to believe. The look on Kyter’s face when she glanced at him said he did too.

“Archangel aren’t in the habit of taking innocents, so what did you do to get on the wrong side of them?” Kyter curled a lip at the tiger and fire flared in his golden eyes.

Tiger struggled, managed to get a few syllables out but nothing that resembled a word. His head drooped again and he fought to lift it, but failed and his chin almost hit his chest. The need to know what had brought him to them and who had done such terrible things to him washed away, replaced with a more powerful need to take care of him.

If they didn’t help him soon, it would be too late.

“He needs medical attention.” Sherry ignored the gruff look that Kyter shot her, one that said he didn’t want to help the tiger until he knew everything. She glared at her boss, giving him her best withering stare, the one she had worked hard to perfect since entering employment at Underworld over a decade ago. “We can ask him questions when he can actually talk without passing out… and maybe we’ll get answers then.”

“I want answers now.” Kyter’s deep voice had that hard edge to it, the one he always used when laying down the law with his staff. It wasn’t going to work on her. “I won’t allow a dangerous shifter in my club. If Archangel comes, I’ll hand the son of a bitch over.”

“No!” There was such desperation, so much fear in that single word as the tiger jolted forwards, that she couldn’t stop herself from reacting, even when she knew it might cost her job.

Or more.

She stepped between him and Kyter again, heart racing against her ribs and a tiny part of her screaming not to do this, that it was dangerous and foolish, and blurted, “I’ll take him to my place and that way the club will be safe.”

Kyter’s golden eyes narrowed on her, but it was the feel of the tiger’s eyes drilling into the back of her head that held her awareness, making her want to look over her shoulder at him and answer his silent question.

Yes, she was crazy and she was offering to take him home with her.

She had lost her fucking mind.

“I won’t put you in danger, Sherry. I’m not going to let you take him,” Kyter snapped and shook his head, his golden eyes daring her to go against what sounded a lot like an order to her.

He had hated it when she had decided to move out two years ago, finding her own place so she could have a little space away from the club, a home to call her own, but in the end he had supported her.

Mostly because she had cited his and Cavanaugh’s tendency to snore so loudly she barely got any sleep in her small apartment in the club, and had then made him squirm by making up stuff about how her sex life had taken a huge nosedive because she couldn’t take a man up to her apartment without Kyter prowling around like some terrifying big brother and scaring them away.

Her sex life had been dead on arrival for a long time, but Kyter didn’t need to know that.

She knew he wanted to protect her, loved that about him, but sometimes she had to stand on her own two feet.

“I’m taking him.” She crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking him.

He huffed. “No. What if he hurts you?”

The tiger growled at that, as if the fact Kyter had dared to even think him capable of such a thing had pissed him off.

She looked back over her shoulder at him and realised she had no reason to believe he wouldn’t hurt her. It was a gut feeling, and her gut hadn’t failed her yet. It had brought her to this place at the lowest point in her life when she had run away from home, and told her to stick around when Kyter had offered to take her in like some stray, and again when she had discovered she wasn’t working for humans.

Now it was telling her that this man was innocent, and if she didn’t help him, he would die.

“What if he did something terrible to make Archangel capture him?” Kyter’s words were low spoken, cautious and deadly serious.

Sherry stared at the tiger, right into his amber eyes. “What if he didn’t?”

She looked back at Kyter when he huffed again.

“It wouldn’t be the first time Archangel had taken someone innocent. Cavanaugh’s brother Harbin was captured by them… and what about Loke?” She had known of Archangel’s existence from the night she had discovered Kyter was in fact a jaguar shifter and he had sat her down and told her everything he could about his world, and the truth about the one that surrounded her.

Back then, Archangel had been righteous, had reinvented itself as a champion for the fae and other immortal species after a bloody history with them. It had hunted only the immortals who were a danger to their own kind. Things had been changing though, and she knew even Kyter had his doubts about the hunter organisation now.

Kyter looked as if he wanted to argue with her, but then his face softened on a sigh and he shook his head. She was winning.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that Archangel aren’t all they appear to be… that they do bad as well as good… and you know you are too.” She pressed her advantage, seeing victory within her reach and unwilling to back down now.

Kyter would relent, and the tiger would be spared.

Saved.

That desire, that deep instinct and need that had sparked to life inside her when she had seen him close to falling, would be satisfied at last.

She would have protected him.

Her boss huffed again and glared at the tiger, who didn’t bite. He remained still behind her, so still in fact that she had to glance over her shoulder at him again to check he was still with them. He stared up at her, those amber eyes bright but dull with pain at the same time. His left hand shook against his bare stomach. Blood trickled from between his strong fingers.

“It’s my choice,” she whispered and then added with more conviction as she turned to face Kyter again, “I’m going to help him no matter what you have to say about it.”

He frowned at her. “There’s no way you’re walking out of here with three hundred pounds of half-dead tiger and making it home, not if Archangel are hunting him.”

He had a point, and she didn’t exactly have a solution to offer him. She wracked her brain, trying to think of something that would satisfy him enough that he wouldn’t revert back to refusing to let her go with the tiger in tow.

Kyter tunnelled his fingers through his sandy hair, tousling the already worry-ruffled locks further, and heaved a long sigh that spoke volumes—tomes—about how he felt about what he was about to suggest and what she was doing.

“I’ll ask Io for help.”

The hope that had been fading inside her burst back to life like a phoenix from the ashes, but she didn’t have a chance to thank Kyter for deciding to help her.

He pivoted on his heel and strode towards the door in the right wall of the nightclub beyond the bar, muttering, “Wait here while I ask Io.”

She was going to have to thank Iolanthe a thousand times over if she agreed to help out, and Kyter too for thinking of a way to get her home with the tiger without Archangel seeing her. She really hadn’t thought things through when she had rushed to his aid, acting like some white knight to his damsel in distress.

At least this way, the tiger could heal and Kyter could get the answers he wanted about Archangel.

Answers she wanted too.

She wanted to know why they had done such horrible things to him.

Kyter paused at the black metal door and looked back at her, concern lighting his eyes and echoing in his deep voice.

“Will you be alright?”

Sherry nodded.

He lingered a moment and then punched in the security code, twisted the silver knob and opened the door. It closed with a bang that echoed through the club and jangled her nerves, making her deeply aware of the fact she was now alone with the tiger.

She looked down at him.

He lifted his head, those piercing amber eyes rising to meet hers again.

Sherry stared down into them, drowning in their liquid gold depths.

Heat travelled through her limbs and warmed the space behind her breast that had been cold for so long.

At least she thought she would be alright.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Blog Tour ~ Ares ~ by ~ Felicity Heaton

guardiansofhades-ares

Blog Tour

Ares: A Guardians of Hades Book

Author: Felicity Heaton

Blurb:

Prince of the Underworld and Lord of Fire, Ares was banished from his home by his father, Hades, two centuries ago and given a new duty and purpose—to keep our world and his from colliding in a calamity foreseen by the Moirai.

Together with his six brothers, he fights to defend the gates to the Underworld from daemons bent on breaching them and gaining entrance to that forbidden land, striving to protect his home from their dark influence. Caged by the manifestation of his power, held apart from those he loves by his own fire and starved of physical contact, Ares lives a cold existence driven by duty and the desire to return to his world.

Until his world collides with a daemon who steals his power and a mortal female who shatters the ice around his heart and awakens the true fire within him—a soul-stirring passion both dangerous and seductive.

Megan has wandered far from her home, driven from everyone she loves by the devastating realisation that she is different to them all. Unsure who to trust in the world, she keeps to herself, until a fateful stormy night brings a temptingly handsome warrior crashing into her life and into her heart—a warrior who seems to hold powers more frightening and marvellous than her own.

When the New York gate comes under threat, and Ares is put to the test, will he choose his duty and regain the power he needs in order to save his world or will he choose the desires of his heart and sacrifice his fire so he can be with the woman becoming his whole world?

Excerpt:

Ares hoofed it through Central Park, pursuing the daemon who had made a break for it. The bastard accelerated, cutting through the patchy darkness ahead of him, and Ares pushed harder, ignoring the burn in his legs, his focus locked on his target. The lamps illuminating the path at intervals flickered over him as he sprinted, intent on running down the daemon before he escaped. Those same lights flashed over the daemon’s back, dull as they hit the dark hood of his sweatshirt but bright on the back of his leather jacket.

The slim male veered left, crashed through the undergrowth and broke out onto one of the park’s dark open fields.

Ares swore under his breath in the mortal tongue and followed him. He wasn’t in the mood to play tag, not tonight. While he enjoyed toying with his prey, he had already done that once tonight with two daemons. Blood still slid down his chest, trickling from his wounds as he moved, and dripped from the gashes on his forearms, tainting his senses with the metallic scent. He’d also had a damn good scrap with another daemon.

Number four here wasn’t going to get off so lightly. When he got his hands on the man, he was going to rip him apart.

Four daemons.

The bastards were getting cocky and persistent.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had fought so many in a single night.

Keras’s observations were wrong. The daemons were up to something and tonight proved it, and he was going to enjoy rubbing his older brother’s nose in it when he next saw him.

Ares grinned, shut out the way a thousand white-hot needles pricked his left arm with each stride, and sprinted after the remaining daemon. The man switched tactics and zigzagged towards a lake in the distance. Was he a water type? Ares hadn’t fought one of those in decades and he didn’t want to fight one tonight.

He hated water.

It really messed with his fire.

Every instinct screamed to pin the daemon down before he could reach the water.

Ares knew he shouldn’t listen to it and should conserve his energy and keep running instead. That was the sensible course of action, the one a seasoned warrior like himself should take. He needed the rest of his strength in case these weren’t the only daemons looking to pick a fight with him tonight. His mission to protect the city and the gate took priority, and he shouldn’t need to use the full extent of his powers to eliminate a single daemon.

The man began to pull away.

Ares huffed.

Keras would tear him a new one about this, pointing out that he was still rash despite his years, but he was damned if he was going to let the bastard douse him.

Ares focused on a point near the lake and the world whirled into darkness. When it came back, he stood between the dark water and his opponent.

He caught a glimpse of the daemon’s face, enough to clock a small goatee and the irritated twist of his lips as he spotted him.

The daemon skidded into a turn. His hood fell back to reveal messy short pale hair and he lost his footing. His right hand hit the damp grass and he pushed off, shooting away from Ares.

Ares cursed him again. He should have used his ability to step closer to him rather than going for the lake. As much as he wanted to teleport on top of the bastard and slam him into the ground, the last one had left him shaky and he knew his body. He couldn’t waste any more of his energy.

A twinge of pain shot down his left arm and he grimaced as he grabbed it and rolled his shoulder, cracking it back into place. He spat blood out onto the grass, huffed and focused on the pitch-black park. Clouds boiled above it, dark and foreboding, and the wind carried the scent of rain. Above that scent rose another—the coppery odour of daemon.

East.

The slippery little bastard was heading back towards the gate.

Ares kicked off and bolted in that direction, his insides swirling with the weird burning sensation he experienced whenever a full-blooded daemon was nearby. He followed the feeling as it grew stronger, leading him towards his prey. He was closing in. Had the daemon stopped running?

Rocks rose ahead of him, silhouetted by the lights from a path that ran behind them. Perhaps the daemon was trying to hide from him in the shadows. Or was he waiting to attack?

Another blast of heat ricocheted down the length of his arm and he ground his teeth against it. He could rest up and heal soon enough. Eliminating this daemon took priority.

He rounded the rocks and the swirling sensation inside him disappeared.

He frowned and quietly moved forwards, not trusting his senses. The daemon couldn’t be gone. He had to be here somewhere.

Ares scoured the darkness, squinting to see into the shadows. Thunder rumbled in the distance and rolled across the city, echoing between the skyscrapers. He lapped the rocks three times, even scaled them and walked between them. No trace of the daemon.

It wasn’t possible.

Unwilling to give up, he did one more lap.

Nothing.

The bastard was gone.

He sat on one of the lower boulders and spat more blood out onto the path under his boots. Keras was really going to rip him a new one now. Ares couldn’t remember the last time he had failed to eliminate a daemon and the taste of defeat was bitter on his tongue.

How had the daemon escaped?

The only logical conclusion was teleportation.

A daemon that could teleport?

Coupled with the strength the man had displayed during their brief tangle, it set him on edge. He had witnessed the carnage that a single strong daemon was capable of and it wasn’t pretty. He drew in a slow breath to settle the growing rage in his blood as he shoved his right hand through the tangled lengths of his dark hair, pushing it back from his face. That sort of violence wasn’t about to hit his city. He wouldn’t allow any mortal to fall prey to this daemon.

He flexed his fingers and stared into the darkness, gathering his strength. It was a waiting game now and he had to take advantage of whatever small amount of time the daemon gave him before he popped back up on Ares’s internal radar. He would tend to his wounds, regain some strength, and prepare himself. The daemon would make himself known again tonight. No doubt about that. He knew that Ares was injured and would take advantage of it.

Ares closed his eyes and tipped his head back. Thunder grumbled again, miles from the city but closing in fast.

His night had been going so well.

He had grabbed a pizza and had lined up a string of action movies, and had planned to polish his motorcycle and maybe take the engine apart too and clean it. A good night. Then he had felt the gate calling. He cursed it too and pushed off from the rock. One wasted pizza and four daemons in one night. He needed to tell his brothers because he was sure that the fiends were up to something, and he didn’t like it.

He trudged back through Central Park, following the dimly lit path that led towards where the gate remained hidden from the mortal realm.

The first two daemons had been acting as a couple out for a midnight stroll in the park. It was always easy to spot young daemons. They flouted the rules and ignored their elders’ warnings about Ares and his brothers. They wanted to be the ones to do what those elders couldn’t and successfully make it through the gate to the Underworld.

They quickly learned their lesson.

Nothing slipped past him or his brothers.

He took his mission to protect the New York gate to the Underworld seriously and that meant any daemon within his city’s boundaries was a dead daemon.

The two had fallen easily enough, little more than a warm up for what had come at him next.

The moment he had met the female Hellspawn in the park as arranged and had completed the ritual to unlock the gate, causing it to materialise in this world so she could pass through, another daemon had come out of nowhere and tried to hitch a ride to the Underworld.

Ares left the path and stalked across the wet grass, his gaze fixed on the darkness where the gate remained hidden. The taste of blood in his mouth, the pain burning in his muscles, and the white-hot lacerations on his chest and arms, all of it combined to darken his mood until he was glaring towards the gate with violence back on his mind.

The female daemon had been stronger than he had anticipated and she had fought like a rabid beast once she had realised the gate would close before she could escape him and make it to the Underworld. She had screeched and clawed at him, and had even come close to sinking fangs into his flesh.

He had crushed her in the end, but not before taking some damage.

Damage that had put him firmly in the frame of mind for some payback against all daemons, but with no sign of one on his senses, he had focused on closing the gate so he could make his way home.

That was when he had met the fourth daemon. The one who had got away.

Ares growled under his breath, his anger directed towards himself now.

That daemon had casually strolled past him on one of the paths through the park and had paid no attention to Ares or the gate, even though it had still been visible at the time. It was almost as though the daemon had thought he could slip by unnoticed. Impossible.

They had clashed and the man had given him a taste of power that had caught Ares off guard. He had been far stronger than Ares had anticipated, his power beyond the level of any daemon he’d had the pleasure of battling in the past century. It was rare for a daemon of that age and level to go anywhere near one of the gates and that was why he had pursued him when he had turned tail and bolted. A daemon that strong was dangerous and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was bad news, the harbinger of an event that oracles had foreseen centuries ago.

He needed to tell Keras and the others.

With the gate closed and safe, and no sign of his prey in the park, Ares turned north towards his apartment.

The storm in the distance grew louder and he caught a flash of lightning out of the corner of his eye.

His mood degenerated.

Rain.

The perfect end to a perfect fucking night.

The first fat drops fell, hissing and evaporating before they hit his bare skin but soaking into his black t-shirt. Those drops rose as steam from his shoulders. He hated the rain. It was up there with daemons, that disgusting feeling that they gave him, and Hellspawn who called him out to the gate and never thanked him for opening it.

Like the woman tonight.

He huffed and quickened his pace, hoping to make it back to his apartment on foot before the rain really kicked in. He could teleport himself there, but not without draining more of what little energy he had left, and he needed to conserve as much of that as possible. He reached his exit and crossed the street, mind fixed on the daemon who had got away.

What had he wanted with the gate?

Ares wasn’t about to fall for his feigned disinterest. The man was up to something and he wanted to know what it was, and he would find out before dawn broke.

The rain grew heavier, hammering the pavement and the parked cars along the road, and he moved closer to the tall brick buildings, seeking what little shelter he could find. Heavy rain was not his friend, especially when he was in a foul mood, barely retaining control over his power. It broke through the heat that constantly surrounded him and evaporated when it hit his skin.

Nothing drew mortals’ attentions like a steaming man.

A yellow taxi drove by, headlights cutting through the downpour and tyres whooshing as they sprayed water over the cars parked along the street. He tipped his head back, watching the droplets fall and sparkle in the streetlights. He wanted a shower but not this sort.

It was still another block and a half to his apartment and he wanted to be home, in the dry. He would patch himself up, throw on some fresh clothes, arm himself and use the time to centre himself again so he could pull back control over his power. Control he badly needed.

When the daemon returned, he would be ready to deal with him.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had gone into battle injured and drained, and it wouldn’t even be the worst. Life in the mortal world was making him soft. He had once battled a legion of daemons with one arm broken and several arrows lodged in his left thigh, and he had decimated them.

Ares smiled. The good old days. It had been centuries since he had gone to war together with his brothers, unleashing the hunger for violence and destruction that made the god his parents had named him after so proud of him.

He focused and the street whirled and disappeared, replaced by his apartment. He flicked the light on, illuminating the pale coffee-coloured walls and dark furniture in the open plan kitchen and living room. He looked down at his boots and the puddle already forming around them on his wooden floor, and toed them off and kicked them into the kitchen on his right. They tumbled across the tiled floor, hit one of the oak cupboards and stopped. He reached over his shoulder with his right hand, grabbed the back of his ruined wet black t-shirt, pulled it over his head and tossed it onto the tiles with his boots.

The water around his feet evaporated, steam curling off his already drying black jeans. He needed to get his mood in check before something bad happened.

He closed his eyes and drew in several deep breaths, holding each one before slowly expelling the air, and reined in his temper together with his power, restoring the usual rigid control he kept over it and stopping his flames from emerging. The heat that always surrounded him settled to a more manageable, and safer, level, and he released another breath, this one more a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was set his apartment on fire. Again. It had been a shitty enough night without that added cherry on top.

When he felt calm enough to maintain control over his fire, he walked into the open living room and pushed the second door in the wall to his left open. He switched the bathroom light on, turned and frowned at his reflection in the mirrored wall on his left above the vanity unit and sink.

He looked like hell.

The female daemon had done a number on him. Long gashes darted across his chest and forearms where she had caught him with her claws. He touched the deepest one of the three on his pectorals and beads of blood broke to the surface.

He frowned and the gold flecks in his eyes darkened to red, glowing against their earthy brown backdrop.

The daemon shouldn’t have been able to land a single blow on him, let alone several. He had been too complacent tonight. He had been dealing with low level daemons for so long that he had forgotten there were stronger ones out there, just waiting for him to drop his guard.

It wouldn’t happen again.

TBRgiveaways

Find all the links, a fantastic 4 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and also enter the giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/guardians-of-hades-ares-paranormal-romance-book.php

TBRauthorbio

felicityheaton

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, her best-selling Her Angel romance series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm romance series or any of her stand alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try her Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series. Or if you like hot-blooded alpha heroes who will let nothing stand in the way of them claiming their destined woman then try her Eternal Mates series. It’s packed with sexy heroes in a world populated by elves, vampires, fae, demons, shifters, and more. If sexy Greek gods with incredible powers battling to save our world and their home in the Underworld are more your thing, then be sure to step into the world of Guardians of Hades.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk

Blog: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/blog/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/felicityheaton

Twitter: http://twitter.com/felicityheaton

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/felicityheaton

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/felicityheaton/

Cover Reveal ~ Ares ~ by ~ Felicity Heaton

Title: Ares

Series: Guardians of Hades

Author: Felicity Heaton

Release Date: November 26, 2016

Blurb:

Available for pre-order soon, find out more at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/guardians-of-hades-ares-paranormal-romance-book.php

Ares is due for release in ebook and paperback on November 26th 2016 and will be available from all major online book retailers on that day, but it will be available for pre-order on Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Apple iBooks and Google Play stores in the week before release.

Join Felicity’s mailing list to receive a notification when Ares is released, PLUS a sneak preview of the first 4 chapters of the book and chances to win a signed paperback copy: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/newsletter.php

TBRauthorbio

felicityheaton

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk

Blog: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/blog/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/felicityheaton

Twitter: http://twitter.com/felicityheaton

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/felicityheaton

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/felicityheaton/

Blog Barrage ~ Haunted by the King of Death ~ by ~ Felicity Heaton

Haunted by the King of Death Blog Barrage - Felicity Heaton

Haunted by the King of Death, the eleventh book in New York Times best-seller Felicity Heaton’s hot paranormal romance series, Eternal Mates, is now available in ebook and paperback. To celebrate the release of Grave and Isla’s romance, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY and sharing sneak peeks of the book.

Enter the Haunted by the King of Death international giveaway (ends August 14th) and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate by using the Rafflecopter form at the end of this post or at her website, where you can also download a 5 chapter sample of the novel: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/haunted-by-the-king-of-death-paranormal-romance-novel.php

Here’s more about the book and the savage and wicked vampire hero and his powerful phantom mate…

Haunted by the King of Death by Felicity Heaton

Haunted by the King of Death (Eternal Mates Romance Series Book 11)

Felicity Heaton

A ruthless vampire warrior, Grave Van der Garde rules the mercenary Preux Chevaliers with an iron fist, determined to retain his hard-won position as one of the most powerful men in Hell and his reputation as the heartless King of Death. But beneath the cold façade beats the heart of a vampire torn between love and hate, ripped in two directions by a single ethereally beautiful female—his fated phantom mate.

Driven by her phantom instincts, Isla used a spell to make her solid in order to deceive the vampire who killed her sister’s demon mate and have revenge on him, condemning him with a single kiss to become a phantom too. But her plan took an unexpected turn when she fell in love with him, and with her new life, and the night she betrayed him shattered both of their hearts. Now, he lives to make her suffer through their connection, one that is fading with them as they begin to slip into the phantom world, and she must face the monster she created if she is to save herself and the vampire she still loves.

With a demon from Grave’s past determined to destroy him and everything he holds dear, and the clock ticking down to their inevitable doom, can he and Isla overcome their past and their pride to work together to claim the future they both desire deep in their hearts? Or will death finally catch up with the vampire king and his phantom mate?

Haunted by the King of Death is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/haunted-by-the-king-of-death-paranormal-romance-novel.php

Haunted by the King of Death – Excerpt

Grave stood at a window in the huge library on the top floor of the palace, staring down into the courtyard, watching the slender female as she appeared from the building and stormed across the sandstone flags.

Her steps slowed as she neared the fountain and she looked back at the palace, an expression on her face that called to him.

There had been hope in her stunning blue eyes when she had spoken with him, but now there was nothing but despair and pain, and he enjoyed it, but gods, he hated it at the same time.

He cursed her in his mind and tried to tear his eyes away from her, tried to force himself to turn his back on the window and stop watching her, but he couldn’t stop looking at her and couldn’t walk away.

He had barely kept his cool and refrained from standing as she had swept into his grand hall, had barely leashed the hot bolt of lust that had burned through him on seeing her again.

She was as beautiful as he remembered.

Even with their apparently joint problem diminishing her slightly, she was still radiant. Ethereal. Breathtaking.

Dangerous to him because of it.

He had thought he was over her, that during their time apart the things she had done had destroyed any and all feelings he’d had for her, leaving his heart free of her. Leaving him cold and immune to her.

He had thought wrong.

One single glimpse of her. One single breath of her sweet scent. One single word falling from her lips.

It was all it had taken to pull him back under her spell.

He despised her for that, and hated himself too.

He turned on a snarl as she disappeared from view beyond the main gate of the fortress and began pacing along the bank of windows. Fury rolled through him with each hard step, anger at her for daring to walk back into his life and at himself for turning her away, and being foolish enough to hope she might fight harder, might have come back when she had stopped at the fountain rather than walking away.

Gods, had he really wanted her to come back?

He squeezed his eyes shut, growled through his clenched teeth and shook his head. No. He hadn’t. He really hadn’t.

A quiet voice whispered that he had.

Grave crushed it out of existence.

He paced harder, trying to work off some steam and purge her from his life again.

But her scent lingered in his lungs, her beauty still branded on his mind.

He grabbed the nearest wooden chair and roared as he sent it flying across the library. It smashed into the bookcase lining the far wall, shattering into pieces and knocking several books to the floor with it.

Grave grabbed another, and then another, and when chairs weren’t enough to satisfy the need to destroy everything because he couldn’t destroy what he really wanted—his feelings for Isla—he tipped one of the ebony desks over and unleashed his fury on it, attacking it with claws, fists and booted feet until it was little more than a scattered pile of tinder on the wooden floor.

His chest heaved as he breathed hard, head bent and heart pounding, anger still thundering in his blood.

He stilled when someone halted outside the double doors of the library.

Waited.

Asher wisely moved on, and Grave waited for him to pass beyond the sphere of his acute senses before he staggered backwards to the window and slumped onto the seat there, the back of his head smacking against the glass panes. He grimaced as his healing right shoulder ached under the pressure of his weight and shifted into a more comfortable position.

He stared at the destruction he had wrought, feeling nothing, not a single care about what he had done.

Not when his heart still beat for Isla.

He had thought he was free of her. He had thought he was stronger and able to see her without her affecting him, without feeling anything for her. He had thought that whatever he had once held in his heart had died when she had shattered that organ, but the sight of her had robbed him of his breath and her scent had made him hard as steel in his trousers, aching for her.

He was never going to be free of her, not so long as they were bound.

She would always affect him, no matter how much he hated it.

Grave tipped his head back, pressing it into the glass, and closed his eyes, breathing out a deep sigh as resignation filled him.

“Damn her,” he muttered, raised both hands and ran them over his dark hair, clawing it back.

He couldn’t think about her right now, not when he had more important things on his mind, things he had almost foolishly revealed to her with his careless words. He had caught the look in her eyes, the intense curiosity.

He lowered his right hand to his chest and rubbed his thumb across the pendant around his neck.

Just as he had witnessed the spark of hope she had felt on seeing he still owned the trinket she had given him.

And he had done all in his power to crush that hope.

Grave looked down at the intricate knot, recalling what he had said to her—he wore it as a reminder of what she had done to him in case he was ever foolish enough to forget it and relinquish his mission to make her suffer.

The reality was so much worse than that.

He couldn’t bring himself to part with it.

Gods, he had tried.

He had cast it into a valley in the Sixth Realm once and turned his back on it, only to end up scouring the black lands for it, desperate to find it again and have it back in his possession. It had taken him five days of searching, five days without sleep or blood.

When he had finally found it, he had experienced such a powerful surge of relief that his knees had given out and he had sat in the middle of the valley, clutching it tightly in his fist, close to tears.

He curled his lip.

There might have been one or two tears.

The metal warmed as he traced the knot, following the lines of it, the weight of it soothing in his fingers.

He hadn’t taken it off since that day.

He should have known from that alone that seeing Isla again had been a bad idea, that he wasn’t over her at all. If he didn’t have the strength to part with a stupid trinket, how the hell had he expected to have the strength to see her and feel nothing?

Imbecile.

He huffed and released the pendant.

Was it possible she had spoken the truth though? She was fading too, and rather than becoming phantoms, they were dancing with death?

A few days ago, he would have leaped at the chance to hear what she had to say, to bleed her for any information she had that might help him or even use her just to save himself, but now all he could think about was the pressing need he felt to save someone else.

The mark between his shoulder blades warmed and this time he didn’t close the connection to her, but he did hold things back from her, only allowing her to feel his negative emotions, the anger and frustration he felt.

Not anger and frustration born of her and her visit.

These emotions were born of the demon prince and his threat.

Grave turned his head to his left, looked into the courtyard below and then beyond it to the wall and the grand gate, and the dark stone buildings of the town outside. Was she still out there or had she already moved on, using one of the portals to teleport somewhere else in Hell?

The part of him that refused to give up and die, the piece that clung to his feelings for her, hoped she found the solution she was looking for and managed to save herself.

He ignored it, pretending it hadn’t said a damn thing, but it was impossible when the same voice whispered poisonous words in his heart, words that rekindled fear in his veins and had him coming to his feet.

The demon prince wanted her as his prize.

And wanted his entire family dead.

A family that wished the same thing for him, but one he was bound to in blood, obliged to warn despite their feelings for him.

He turned towards the window and studied the darkening horizon with a growing sense of dread. He had given himself a day to recuperate, a day in which he had locked himself in this library with three of his men and uncovered the record of the attack on the demon castle in the archives, arming himself with all the information he could muster because he knew he would need it if he was going to convince some members of his family to listen to him.

Now, he couldn’t delay any longer.

He focused on the mark on his back, felt it warm against his skin and start to tingle, and pictured Isla standing before him as she had in his grand hall.

Beautiful, enchanting Isla.

She had spoken about him getting what he deserved, and he wasn’t sure what she had meant by that, but there was a chance it was about to happen, and he couldn’t dispute that he probably did deserve it after what he had done to this person.

The one he intended to warn first.

Would she feel it when his eldest cousin, Snow, killed him in a fit of bloodlust?

Haunted by the King of Death is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Find all the links, a fantastic 5 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and also enter the giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/haunted-by-the-king-of-death-paranormal-romance-novel.php

Books in the Eternal Mates paranormal romance series:

About Felicity Heaton

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

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Cover Reveal ~Haunted by the King of Death ~ by ~ Felicity Heaton

It’s time for the cover reveal of the next Eternal Mates series book, Haunted by the King of Death. I’m sure everyone has been curious about the savage, merciless vampire Lord Van der Garde since he prowled onto the scene in the second book in the series, Claimed by a Demon King, and now it’s time to find out why this dangerous and deadly alpha male is just so damned distant and untrusting of females.

If you haven’t had a chance to step into this passionate and action-packed world of dark elves, fae, demons, vampires, shifters and hunters, then you can take the leap with the first book in the series, Kissed by a Dark Prince, which is only 99c / 99p right now. Find the links to your favourite retailers at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/kissed-by-a-dark-prince-paranormal-romance-novel.php

Here’s more about the next book in the series, due for release on July 30th!

Haunted by the King of Death

Haunted by the King of Death (Eternal Mates Romance Series Book 11)

Felicity Heaton

Pre-order your copy of Haunted by the King of Death today at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/haunted-by-the-king-of-death-paranormal-romance-novel.php

Haunted by the King of Death is due for release in ebook and paperback on July 30th 2016 and will be available from all major online book retailers on that day, including Barnes and Noble Nook.

Join Felicity’s mailing list to receive a notification when Haunted by the King of Death is released, PLUS a sneak preview of the first 5 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: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28524677-haunted-by-the-king-of-death

Books in the Eternal Mates paranormal romance series:

About Felicity Heaton:

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places: