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BOOK BLITZ – Bewitched by a Vampire (Eternal Mates #21) by Felicity Heaton
Bewitched by a Vampire
(Eternal Mates, #21)
Felicity Heaton
Publication date: June 14th 2022
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
An important undercover mission for her coven could get Lilian killed. Targeting one powerful vampire is dangerous enough, but when she’s left with his lethally seductive brother, Night, the stakes have never felt higher.
Night Van der Garde is in no mood to visit his uptight eldest brother, so when he finds Bastian flying out of his mansion door, the evening is looking up… until Bastian orders him to spend the week looking after a human—a bewitching female who rouses a fierce hunger that has him treading the fine line between duty and desire.
When a new threat to his bloodline emerges and secrets about Lilian are revealed, will Night choose to follow his heart or listen to the ghosts of his dark past?
EXCERPT:
Lilian smiled victoriously, anger flowing from her in palpable waves that rocked him as much as her words had, but there was hurt and fear laced within it.
“You didn’t know your brother was into taking humans against their will?” she barked and he held his tongue, not wanting to damn his brother, even when the proof of Bastian’s crime was right before him. She shook her head, causing the glossy dark waves of her hair to brush across the shoulders of her plain black dress. “I can see it, Night. You didn’t know. If you had—”
“It’s none of my business,” he growled and turned to leave.
Her hand on his arm stopped him.
Despite the sleeve of his jacket and his shirt that separated them, his skin burned where she held him, the thrill of her touch ripping at his fragile control and flooding him with a need to turn and gather her into his arms.
His bloodlust rose, pushing to the fore as his focus narrowed to the point where she gripped him, to how close she was behind him. He dragged down a sharp breath, catching her scent. A torment. His face twisted as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the urges running rampant through him, denying the one that pushed to the front, shoving all the others aside.
It wouldn’t be wrong of him to kiss her.
Bastian didn’t have any claim on her. She didn’t want to belong to his brother. Would she want to belong to him?
Not in the way Bastian had wanted to claim her, but in another way.
He swallowed hard and fought back against his feelings, refusing to let them control him. It was lust. That was all. Lilian was beautiful and spirited, and he wanted to break her and claim her as his prize. It was just another hunt.
So why did it feel as if his entire life hinged on the next few seconds?
BLP REVIEW – Tracy
One of the things I loved about Bewitched by a Vampire was that we were back a bit in the Eternal Mates series timeline and found out more about one of our past favourites family!! BbaV is set around the same time as Haunted by the King of Death, Grave van Der Gardes’s book.
It was so hard not to like Lilian, even though she’s got so so many secrets, she’s at Night’s brothers home under false pretences and she’s hiding what she is!!!
Through the story I felt so much for her as we discover the duplicity behind her ‘mission’ and the depth of deceit she’s unaware of!!
Night, well, he came in as arrogant as any vampire can be…. and had an issue being left babysitting Lilian on his brother Bastian’s behalf. We discover that a lot of his attitude came from his reaction to her and her ‘relationship’ to his brother.
The gods, my heart was aching for Night as the story progressed… let’s face it, he had secrets of his own but they were eclipsed by everything he discovered about Lilian and the events that then unfolded.
I LOVED that we ran into some of my favourites from other books in the EM world and from another series from Felicity. 😉
Night & Lilian had so many things to overcome to ever have a chance together. There were unknown foes but some unexpected allies and this added to the suspense in the story. BbaV was action packed, full of twists and turns, heartache, feels (I went through a hellish amount of emotions reading) and scorching heat between our MCs.
This may be Book 21 in the series but Ms Heaton never lowers the bar. The books are always exciting and engaging. I’m looking forward to much, much more in the Eternal Mates world!!!
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
Author Bio:
I’m a NEW YORK TIMES, USA TODAY and International Best-Selling Author writing passionate paranormal romance books and series for adults.
I love to create detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! All of them alpha as you would expect in paranormal romance, and every book with a guaranteed HAPPILY FOREVER AFTER!
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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY – Scorched by Darkness (Eternal Mates #18) by Felicity Heaton
New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton is here today for the book tour of her new paranormal romance release, Scorched by Darkness, the latest release in her popular Eternal Mates world.
There are now eighteen books in this series, but don’t worry, you can dive right on in with Scorched by Darkness, or start at the very beginning with Kissed by a Dark Prince, which is FREE at all retailers right now. Binge-read to your heart’s content!
If you love big worlds packed with detail and every paranormal species imaginable, together with hot alpha heroes and strong heroines bringing them to their knees, then this series is definitely for you. Plus, each book has a happily forever after and there are no cliff-hangers, because there’s nothing worse than a cliff-hanger!
Scorched by Darkness (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 18)
by Felicity Heaton
Even for one of the top assassins in Hell like him, Hartt’s latest contract would have been difficult enough, but there’s a complication—a beautiful, flame-haired, and dangerously tempting complication. Not only is the bewitching female a distraction he doesn’t need—she’s the competition.
Mackenzie’s life hasn’t been easy. Held captive by blood mages who murdered her family, forced to spend every day guarding her secret, and now she lands the biggest contract ever—one that would set her assassin’s guild up as one of the best in Hell—and it turns out her client hasn’t only hired her. He’s hired the top guild in Hell too. Worse, the male she’s up against is wickedly alluring, a dark elf warrior who sets her blood on fire, and the heat that sparks between them is in danger of burning her resolve to take him down to ashes.
It’s a race against time and each other to fulfil the contract by taking out one of the most dangerous men in Hell, a vampire with a name befitting of his bloody history, but who will be the one to claim victory—one of them or the King of Death?
Find out in Scorched by Darkness, an enemies-to-lovers fated mates paranormal romance that will set your heart on fire!
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Fuming wasn’t a strong enough word for how Mackenzie was feeling. Furious? Filled with rage? Liable to detonate at a moment’s notice? That one seemed to convey the fire that burned up her blood and ignited something dangerous inside her as she searched for the male she had spotted.
That fire only blazed hotter as she finally located him on a rooftop overlooking the square, felt his gaze light on her as a shiver that cascaded over her entire body.
And then he was gone.
She clenched her jaw and cursed him as he sprinted across the rooftops, leaping alleys with ease.
Closing in on her mark.
Another bloody assassin!
Worse, he was an elf.
That could only mean one thing—her client had some explaining to do.
She was sure he was the reason the most renowned assassin’s guild in Hell just tossed their hat into the ring and was following her mark.
Mackenzie was swift to move, slipped through the crowd and worked her way back to the raised walkway where she had been when she had first spotted the other assassin. Where the sight of him had completely arrested her, bewitching her as if he was a mage rather than an elf. Her blood chilled at that word. Mage. She shook it off, together with the unsettling effect the elf had on her, and bit out another ripe curse as she checked his position.
The black-haired bastard was above the target now, looming at the edge of the roof, peering down at them and looking for all the world as if he was contemplating leaping on them.
Maybe he was.
Damn him. He was forcing her hand. She hadn’t come here to take down her mark, wasn’t appropriately armed for a kill.
She had come here to follow up a lead, part of her not expecting the vampire to be here tonight. Her plan had been to study him if he was and see what she could learn about him, to gather intelligence she could use to form a plan of attack. She regretted not bringing her arsenal with her now, but she hadn’t known she would have competition.
She was going to have to improvise.
Another, fouler, curse rolled off her tongue as five demons formed a blockade ahead of her. She sprinted right at them, unwilling to let them slow her down, fear a potent motivator as her gaze flicked to the elf again and then to her target as the idiot stopped right below him.
She nimbly leaped, slapped her left hand down on the shoulder of one of the big males and ran up the wall behind him. The demongrunted as she shoved off, growled as he twisted towards her, and she landed and ducked beneath the meaty fist he swung at her.
“Sorry!” she hollered over her shoulder without slowing.
She checked the elf again. Still there. What was he waiting for?
Her focus darted back to the mark.
He wasn’t alone.
The dark-haired male turned towards his companion—a stunningly beautiful woman with long white hair and curves to die for wrapped in cerulean leather.
A phantom made flesh.
The intel Jasynder had gathered for her was right then. The vampire was mated to a phantom. She could understand why the elf was hesitating now. Getting on the wrong side of a phantom was a sure-fire way of getting your soul devoured. It only took one kiss and the elf would be toast. Of course, the terrifying woman could kill Mackenzie just as easily with the same tactic, but phantoms were all female and preferred to turn males into ghosts to either use for procreation or to kill by draining their life essence.
Chances were high that if she and the elf both attacked at the same time, the phantom would target him, leaving Mackenzie open to take down the mark.
Which was going to be easier said than done. This vampire had a bloody reputation, led the fiercest legion of the Preux Chevaliers—an organisation of vampire mercenaries in Hell. Taking him down was going to be hard, and it was going to require some finesse if she didn’t want to die in the process, or before she could deal a fatal blow on him, but it would be worth it.
This contract was a huge deal for her guild.
Judging by the sour look on the elf’s face as he glared down at the couple and then at Mackenzie, it was a big deal for him too.
She glanced back at the mark.
“Shit!” she muttered as she saw they were gone.
She halted at the edge of the raised stone walkway and scanned the crowd with her senses, but there were too many people packed into the square. She couldn’t pick out vampire or phantom among the blur of scents and powers.
Mackenzie huffed and strode down the alley ahead of her, one that ran between the building where the elf still stood and the first building on the side of the square to her right. She exited it on a broader cobbled street and checked in both directions, and then did a quick lap of the demon district.
The thoroughfare was just as busy as the square, filled with demons grouped together in front of the one and two–storey grey stone buildings. Hordes of them had gathered around the tavern to the north of the district, a pale cream stone affair that was a contrast to all the dark grey. It was more elegant too, resembling something from the Victorian era.
“Hey,” she breathed as a big demon noticed her and his dusky horns curled a little, beginning to resemble those of a ram, and his crimson eyes brightened. She skimmed her hands down her burgundy corset to her hips, making sure she had the whole of his attention, and canted her head as she sidled up to him. “Don’t suppose you’ve seen a vampire and a phantom coming this way?”
He shook his head, and then growled and bared fangs when two other demons looked at her. She pegged one as from the Fifth Realm, and one as from the Second. Demons didn’t exactly like to share, but she needed information, and if a fight broke out, she would make a sharp exit.
“How about you, big guy?” She ran an assessing gaze over the demon from the Second Realm, taking a moment to appreciate allthat muscle jammed into only a pair of tight black leathers, and how his black horns grew as he gave her a leisurely once-over in return. “You seen a vampire and a phantom?”
“Maybe,” he grunted and continued in stilted English, revealing he didn’t get out of Hell much, “What… information… worth?”
“More than you can afford, gorgeous.” She offered a sultry smile because that was all he was getting from her.
He hadn’t seen anything. None of them had. She debated questioning the others and then decided against it. She wasn’t going to find her mark again tonight. By now, he was either holed up in the vampire district to the north of the enormous cavern, or he had used one of the portal pathways and gone back to his stronghold in Hell.
Damn it.
She ogled the demon one last time, shutting out a stray thought that left her reeling—she liked her men a little leaner and a lot meaner.
The elf popped into her head.
She was about to banish him, but paused and frowned as she shrugged. Her mark was gone, but she could still come away from tonight with some valuable intel if she tailed the assassin. It might go some way towards making her feel better.
Mackenzie returned to the square and looked up to her right, at the rooftop. He was gone. She muttered another curse, one that felt like the millionth she had unleashed since noticing the elf.
That sizzle-spark rolled along her spine again and she jerked her head down.
Her gaze collided with pure amethyst across a sea of people, violet that held her fast as a thousand tingles tripped through her.
The elf frowned at her, his sensual lips turning downwards as a disapproving look settled on his handsome face. The black slashes of his eyebrows met hard and he pivoted, breaking the spell he had placed her under. She shook off the lingering effect and glared at his back as he eased through the crowd, heading towards the clock tower at the other end of the square.
Mackenzie gave him a few seconds to build a lead and then followed, keeping her senses trained on him so he couldn’t escape her.
Which of the elves was he? There was only one guild in Hell that employed his kind, and when she had been researching assassin organisations with the intent of forming one of her own, before she had joined a guild instead, two names had come up.
Fuery and Hartt.
Rumour didn’t need to paint an interesting picture of them. Fact had already done it. The two elves were practically famous and as far as she could tell, one was as bad as the other.
As dangerous and deadly as her mark.
Their mark.
Her client had obviously hired him too and she couldn’t really blame him for putting the contract out for tender at several guilds. Not when there was a ridiculously high chance the vampire would kill whoever was sent to take him down.
The elf hit the broad street that cut through the witches’ district. She locked up tight when he suddenly stopped and began to turn his head. She ducked behind a group of shifters, sure he was looking for her. Her heart shot into her throat and pounded there, adrenaline a sweet kick in her veins as she edged forwards and risked peering around the female shifter who was looking down at her as if she were insane.
He was gone. Damn him.
Mackenzie stood and tiptoed, peered over the heads of the crowd and tried to find him. The tightness in her chest evaporated as she spotted him heading along the side of the square and she hurried to catch up with him as he ducked into an alley.
Following an elf with a reputation as dark as the one attributed to the two assassins in his guild into an alley was probably suicide. That thought flickered through her mind, but she paid it no heed. She mounted the steps up onto the stone walkway and pressed her back to the building beside the alley.
Being prepared was worth the risk. She had never seen an assassin from his guild in the flesh, and she wanted to know what she was up against because she doubted her client was going to change his mind about having more than one assassin guild on this job for him.
The elf was her competition, and he was going down.
She needed to be the one to take out the mark. Claiming a trophy of this magnitude would establish her guild as one of the most prestigious in Hell. It would finally get her small band of assassins recognised and would lead to getting bigger and better contracts.
Her guild needed this.
Ever since she had taken over leadership of it a few decades ago, they had struggled to keep their heads above water, let alone establish themselves in the fiercely competitive world of contract killing. It was a miracle this client had approached them and offered this opportunity, and she wouldn’t mess up this chance they had been given.
She had to secure the kill for her guild.
She leaned left and peered into the alley, glared at the elf’s back as he strolled away from her.
Plus, she had a score to settle.
She had lost track of the number of clients who had dumped her guild halfway through a contract because an opening had come up at the one he worked for. Her scowl deepened, mostly because those electric shivers were back as she studied him, sending heat rolling through her.
Damn him.
But there was something arresting about him.
The fluid way he moved, a startling combination of grace and raw sexuality that shouldn’t be possible considering he wore a drab black knee-length tunic over his tight trousers, was drawing more than just her gaze to him. Every female in the alley looked him over after he had passed them and some had the courage to eye him up as he approached.
One even offered herself up to him.
He politely turned her down with a smile and a wave of his hand.
The subtle shift of his body caused the fine material of the tunic to pull taut over his biceps and across his broad shoulders, revealing toned muscles. Apparently, elves had incredible armour that was imbued with magic or something. The black scales resided in twin bracelets and could cover their owner in a handful of seconds if they issued a mental command. Those scales could transform into talons too, and only metal of the same type could cut through it.
She had never seen it in the flesh, but heat sizzled through her as she pictured what he would look like in only skin-tight black armour that revealed everything.
And she meant everything.
Several of the accounts she had read about elf armour, and some of the ones she had been told by women who had witnessed it, had been very clear about that. Every muscle on their body showed, and not just that, but you could tell the size of the package on offer too.
That sizzle became a spark that ignited her blood, had her thoughts going hazy for a moment before she snapped herself back to the world and shut it down.
She blamed the elf for her out-of-control libido and imagination, put it down to his good looks and incredible physique, and the fact it had been far too long since she had taken the time to scratch her itches.
She wouldn’t let herself get distracted by him.
It would be a death sentence.
He was the enemy and he had clocked her in the square, knew they were after the same mark. He was probably aware of her right now and was leading her to her doom. Well, it would be his doom that awaited him at the end of this dance.
Mackenzie tailed him, studying everything he did, learning all she could about him, right down to which foot he favoured as he pivoted and turned down another alley. The more she knew about him, the more likely it was she would survive a fight against him.
And they would come to blows.
She felt that in her gut.
She peeked into the alley. He was still a good fifty feet ahead of her. She slipped into the narrower space, hating the way the two dark stone buildings seemed to close in on her to steal all the light. The strange burn he had ignited in her blood turned to ice and she breathed through it as her chest constricted. She was fine. She focused on the electric lamp mounted on the wall at the end of the alley, using the soft light it emitted to banish the darkness.
The memories.
As the momentary panic passed and her senses came back online, she swore under her breath.
The elf was gone.
“Damn it, Mackenzie,” she muttered and frowned as she hurried forwards. “Losing track of your targets now?”
It wasn’t like her. She prided herself on her skills, on her dedication to her work and how professional she was compared with a lot of other assassins. She had never lost track of a mark and now she had done it twice in one night.
She slowed her pace, catching herself. Rushing headlong after the elf was a foolish move. Whether the male was Hartt or Fuery, he was a merciless killer. Darkness made flesh.
And sharp as a blade too.
The tales of them were legendary. More than one account glorified how quickly they could think on their feet and how intelligent they were. She supposed skills like that came with the territory when you were thousands of years old.
She took a moment to breathe, to focus her mind again. She was quick and clever too.
He wasn’t going to get the jump on her.
She brought her guard up again as she slipped a dagger free of the sheathe at her waist and stretched her senses around her as she exited the alley onto the main street that cut through the heart of the demon district. She palmed the grip of the blade, her pulse picking up as she scoured the area.
Nothing.
Had he teleported back to Hell?
She squeaked as a hand suddenly appeared around her throat and hauled her back against a rock-hard body, and shivered as his deep baritone teased her ear.
“Looking for me?”
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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
Book 16: Avenged by an Angel
Book 17: Seduced by a Demon King
Book 18: Scorched by Darkness
Well, it seems that regardless of how far into a series Ms Heaton lures us she’s still fully capable of catching us unawares and giving us an excellent read – not that that was ever in question!!!
I’ve been looking forward to Hartt’s book for a bit now, though if I’m gonna be honest I’ve not always been his biggest fan…. his actions in Hunted by a Jaguar and reactions to Iolanthe and her mate bugged me and, tbh, his line of thought where this particular lady elf strayed in the first part of Scorched had me wanting to smack him a tad still….. but, as ever, Felicity gave us an engaging and heart hurting story of the dark assassin’s history and I fell arse over teakettle for him after a while..
Mackenzie’s guild is still pretty unknown and she needs to fulfil the latest contact they’ve just picked up to get their name out there…. but going up against one of the best hitmen in the business, she’s gonna have to use everything in her arsenal (pun intended) to win this prize and achieve her goal.
I adored her gutsiness and balls to the wall attitude. That facing off against someone of Hartt’s calibre brought out the best in her and had her determined to prove her worth – while hiding who she really was – made for interesting reading. She’s as competitive as Hartt, if not more so, and that made their interactions spark all the brighter.
Her partner in crime, Syn, was a really intriguing character and I’m pretty sure we saw a future pairing in the making while reading. Time will tell….. 😉
With some big twists and turns and a couple of unexpected WTH moments Scorched by Darkness continued the outstanding rollercoaster of a ride that is the Eternal Mates series and I cannot wait for more from one of my favourite paranormal romance authors.
We caught up with some favourites from earlier in the series and I have to admit, I’d forgotten just how much I floved Rosalind; she is still unapologetically irreverent at times but her attitudes injects humour when things seem bleak and I do so enjoy that about her character!!
Grab yourself a copy of this fabulous, recommended story and settle in for a kickass read.
** note to self….. remember a box of tissues when reading a FH book in future!!!
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 London Vampires series. Seven sexy and sinful Greek god brothers can be your new addiction in the Guardians of Hades series. Or how about four hot alpha shifter brothers in her Cougar Creek Mates 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 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:
WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | INSTAGRAM
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NEW RELEASE – Wolf Ranch: Fierce by Vanessa Vale & Renee Rose
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Fate has it in for me.
She’s sent me a human vet to stay in the bunkhouse. With me.
I might not have the wolf scent, but I have the hearing.
I learn she’s a virgin. I offer her two weeks.
Two weeks where I’ll show her a large animal. One she can’t resist.
Or at least one who can’t resist her.
I’ll prove she doesn’t know everything about four-legged beasts.
Especially not the fiercest ones who stalk their prey in the night.
Especially not one determined to prey on her.
Me.
Me.
About the Authors:
USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance novels. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews’ Best Historical, Best Erotic, Best Ageplay and favorite author. She’s hit #1 on Amazon in the Erotic Paranormal, Western and Sci-fi categories. She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams. To receive FREE Renee Rose books, click here.
Website: http://www.reneeroseromance.com/
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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY – Calistos (Guardians of Hades #5) by Felicity Heaton
New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton is here today for the book tour of her new paranormal romance release, CALISTOS, the latest novel in her epic Guardians of Hades series.
If you love dark, alpha Greek gods and strong heroines who bring them to their knees, together with epic action, sizzling passion and high stakes drama, then this series is definitely for you. Plus, each book has a happily forever after and there are no cliff-hangers, because there’s nothing worse than a cliff-hanger!
Calistos (Guardians of Hades Paranormal Romance Series Book 5)
by Felicity Heaton
Prince of the Underworld and Lord of Air, Calistos 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.
Tormented by the death of his twin sister, Calistos wants nothing more than to find a way to save her soul, but the pain of continuing without her, the constant feeling that he got her killed, is slowly pulling him down into the darkness and he knows it’s only a matter of time before he succumbs to the call of the abyss.
Until a battle sets him on a collision course with a kind-hearted and beautiful mortal, one who rouses softer emotions he had sworn he would never risk feeling again, threatening to peel away his mask of playfulness and shatter the barriers around his heart.
Marinda is a woman on a mission; to become a great cellist and repay her father for his faith in her. But her regimented and studious life is thrown into chaos when a handsome man is carted into the ER where she works and takes her hostage, pulling her into a dark and dangerous world; one where she discovers there’s more to her than meets the eye and her entire life has been a lie.
When the enemy makes a play for Marinda and the gates, will Calistos find the strength to let someone into his heart again and look to the future, or will the pain of his past lead him to unleash hell on this world?
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Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win one of a $75, $50 or $25 Amazon Gift Card at the Calistos book page.
This giveaway is international and open to everyone, and ends at midnight on August 16th.
Enter now:
http://www.felicityheaton.com/guardians-of-hades-calistos-paranormal-romance-book.php
“Clear the way!”
Marinda plastered her back against the cream wall of the busy hospital corridor as two paramedics rushed towards her, pushing a gurney. From the opposite direction, a doctor hurried to them, meeting them just before her.
“What do we have?” The woman looked the patient over and Marinda didn’t miss the flicker of horror in her dark eyes.
Marinda could understand her shock. The unconscious man on the gurney was covered in a black oily substance, had blood pooling beneath him on the pale sheets and staining his long blond hair, and had multiple lacerations across his bare chest.
Together with a bone sticking out of his left arm.
“Adult male. Early thirties. Someone found him on the Pont Sant-Michel. Unconscious.” The male paramedic glanced at the doctor before he went back to attending to the man. “He hasn’t regained consciousness.”
Coupled with the grave look he exchanged with the doctor and the other paramedic, Marinda knew what that meant.
He was bound for the morgue.
They rushed past her and her gaze tracked them, focused on him. How had he even managed to survive such extensive injuries? She had seen people in better conditions lose their lives, and didn’t hold out much hope for him. She hated nights like this, when she saw such horrible things, when she felt hopeless despite how badly she wanted to be able to help these people.
She drifted back along the corridor in the direction she had come, not noticing any of the people or the things happening around her as her feet carried her towards the ER.
Towards the man.
Was it morbid curiosity or something else that had this need awakening inside her? A desire to remain at his side. To watch over him.
She paused at the door of the room they had moved him into and watched as nurses joined the paramedics and another doctor, this one a man, rushed into the room from the doors to the theatre. She only caught snippets of their conversation as she stared at the blond man, her eyes transfixed on his face.
“We have any hope here?” a man muttered. One of the nurses.
“Just get him hooked up,” a woman hissed back at him as she worked to clear some of the black from the patient’s chest. “What is this stuff? Motor oil?”
“It stinks, whatever it is.” Another man moved around the blond on the gurney, blocking Marinda’s view for a moment, and she inched another step closer, compelled to remain within sight of the man.
“Vitals coming in now.” The first male nurse shifted to his right. “What the hell?”
Marinda glanced at the machine as he punched the buttons.
“That can’t be right.” He looked at his colleagues.
Marinda agreed with him. She had worked as a receptionist long enough to know what normal vitals looked like, and this man’s were as normal as they got. The machine had to be wrong. There was no way a man in his condition could have stable, near-perfect blood pressure. He hardly had any blood left in him judging by the crimson now dripping from the gurney to splatter on the tiled floor.
Weird.
She inched another step closer, bordering on entering the room now as that compulsion grew stronger. Her gaze dropped to his face again, and a feeling struck her.
He felt like home.
The strangeness of that thought had her frowning at him. She wasn’t normally one for such fanciful thoughts, and definitely not about men. Did she know him? It was possible he had lived in the small town where she had grown up, where she had spent her entire life before she had moved away to study at the Conservatoire de Paris.
The entire room erupted into pandemonium, shattering her thoughts and hurling her back into the world.
The blond jacked up off the gurney, growled like an animal as people rushed to restrain him, and she gasped as he kicked one of them. His heavy black boots caught one of the men in the chest and sent him flying across the room.
“Get him under control!” The doctor who had been the first to attend to him barrelled across the room with two large male nurses.
The woman seized the man’s legs, a vain attempt to contain him as he bucked and thrashed. The two nurses grabbed his shoulders and tried to pin him, and the second doctor joined the first, helping her keep the man’s legs under control.
The male paramedic fumbled with some straps, almost had them around the man’s legs when someone injected the blond with something.
His already strange vitals shot off the charts and he exploded from the bed, sending everyone staggering backwards, slamming into machinery and the walls. Marinda gasped and eased back a step as the man swung violently in all directions, the needle dangling from his arm swaying as he twisted and turned, taking in his surroundings.
His vivid blue eyes were wild, so bright they entranced her and she froze in the face of him.
He looked savage as he towered in the centre of the room, his bare chest heaving, the air around him swirling in a way that tousled the dirty strands of his long golden hair.
Like a man out of one of the fairy tales her father had told her as a child, not one made of flesh and blood.
Three of the male nurses attempted to capture him. He shoved the first to reach him, planting a hand against his chest, and the man flew across the room to hit the wall near the doors to the operating theatre. The other two didn’t fare any better. He knocked one out with barely a tap on the head, and swept his broken left arm out to catch the second one across his chest, sending him crashing into the machines.
He moved a step backwards, a tear in his black combat trousers opening to reveal a deep laceration that cut into his thigh muscle. He growled and flashed his teeth as he knocked against a trolley of equipment and turned on it, raising his right hand at the same time. The trolley flipped, scattering the contents across the tiles, and careened into the wall, embedding itself in the pale cream plaster.
No man had that kind of strength.
Was he on drugs? It seemed like a very real possibility as she stared at him, at the wounds that littered him and how crazed he was. He had clearly faced off against the wrong people and had lost.
He shifted his right foot forwards, dragging it through the blood, and then his left, slowly moving towards her.
The sensor leads attached to his body pulled taut and he snarled something in a language she didn’t know.
Everyone in the room suddenly dropped to their knees and clutched their ears.
Thunder pealed outside and the ground shook, threatening to send her to her knees too.
He tore the leads from his chest, leaving circular red marks where they had been, and ripped the needle from his arm. Blood tracked down it, dark against his dirty oil-slicked skin.
Marinda swallowed hard as he lifted his head and their gazes collided.
His eyes were even brighter now, as stormy as the lightning that ravaged the sky and shook the ground with another ear-splitting bang.
They softened as he gazed at her, as he slowly lifted his right arm and stretched a hand out towards her. He pushed his right foot forwards again, his knee buckled and he collapsed, catching his broken arm on the end of the gurney. A pain-filled bellow ripped from his lips and he spoke again, muttered things in that strange language that had the nurses and doctors curling over, holding themselves and crying out in pain too.
The man braced his right hand against the floor, his jaw tensed and he tried to push himself up. He sagged, breathing hard, and instinct had her moving towards him even as the sensible part of her screamed at her to run away. This man was dangerous. She could only watch herself as she closed the gap between them, as she crouched and laid a hand on his shoulder.
He was burning up.
He needed help.
Her help.
“Step away from him.” A flinty, hard male voice came from behind her and she glanced over her shoulder at the owner of it. A police officer. Two of them occupied the doorway, both of them looking at the man as he struggled to push himself up off the tiles. Someone must have raised the alarm. The man drew a gun and aimed it at the blond. “Stay down.”
The world whirled around her and she froze as she found herself facing the two police officers. The man behind her palmed something in his right hand and she tried to see it out of the corner of her eye. Her pulse spiked, fear flooding her veins for the first time as she made out what it was.
A scalpel.
He banded his left arm around her and her spine met his front as he brought the makeshift blade up to her throat. Instinct said to break free. This time, Marinda ignored it. She glanced at the carnage he had wrought, at the nurses who were slowly recovering now he had stopped speaking, several of whom were bleeding badly. She didn’t want to end up like them, and she had the feeling she would if she fought him.
He loosed another inhuman snarl and edged her forwards. He was heavy against her as he held her to him, his weight pressing down on her back, forcing her to support him. She struggled to move towards the door, her legs like jelly beneath her as she eyed the police officers, praying they would get out of his way. Fear crushed her lungs. She felt sure she wouldn’t survive the fight that would break out if they didn’t move.
As she neared them, she threw them both a pleading look. It hit its mark with the younger of the two officers and he moved back a step. The second joined him, easing backwards as the man moved her forwards, using her as a shield.
His grip on her tightened as they hit the corridor, the strength of it surprising her. With the amount of blood he had lost, and was continuing to lose, he should have been weakening, not growing stronger, but she swore he was doing just that. His steps grew surer too, the weight of him against her back lessening with each minute that trickled past as he slowly eased her backwards, keeping her facing the police officers.
He was surprisingly gentle with her as he guided her towards the exit and then out into the cool autumnal night air. He lowered the scalpel from her throat and turned her to face him, a flare of regret in his eyes as they dropped to the point where he had held the blade close to her vein. When his eyes lifted to hers again, she expected him to ask her where her car was.
Instead, he spoke in that unusual language of his and thunder rumbled overhead.
“I don’t understand,” she said in French, unsure he would know what she was saying.
When he clutched her shoulders through her white shirt and shook her, frustration crossing his features, she decided to try English instead.
“I don’t understand. What language is that anyway? Russian? Greek?” It was nothing she had ever encountered on her limited travels. It sounded similar to what her friend Cassandra spoke, although it might have something to do with how frustrated he sounded. Cass rarely spoke Russian outside of the times she was angry about something.
He snarled something else and blue light sparked across her vision, almost blinding her. She dropped her gaze to his right arm and the blue glow emanating from the tattoo of script that ran along the inside of his forearm. Maybe she had fallen asleep during her break and was dreaming all of this, because none of it seemed real.
That feeling compounded when he grabbed her and the light engulfed them.
She shrieked as she tried to break free of him, fighting his hold, and stumbled backwards as he released her. She hit the tarmac.
Or at least she should have hit tarmac.
She looked down at the smooth black ground beneath her that resembled tiles.
And then up at the man as he staggered away from her, muttering things under his breath, heading for an enormous four-poster bed draped with sky-blue linen. He collapsed onto it and rolled onto his back, breathing hard.
Marinda breathed hard with him, the pace of them quickening as she took in her new surroundings, unable to believe her eyes. The pitch-dark walls of the huge room seemed to close in on her as she struggled for air.
She shrieked again when a boom came from behind her and swiftly twisted onto her knees to face that direction.
A beautiful woman with scarlet hair that looked like blood against her pale skin and the delicate layers of her black dress drew to a sudden halt in the doorway, her emerald eyes falling to land on Marinda.
They darted to the man.
Marinda had the ridiculous urge to deny that she had been doing anything to him, that she hadn’t been with him in any fashion – not to harm him or seek pleasure with him.
“What have you done?” the woman whispered, her voice like a summer breeze as she swept towards Marinda.
Marinda lined the words up on her tongue, ready to deny that she had done anything, but then the woman glided straight past her, heading for the man, and she had the feeling the redhead had been speaking to him.
“Oh, you will be in trouble now,” the woman murmured as she gazed down at him, her green eyes overflowing with worry. “But it seems you were already in trouble.”
Marinda tensed when the woman looked back at her.
“What happened to him?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He was brought into the ER, found unconscious at the Pont Sant-Michel.”
A crinkle formed between the woman’s fine eyebrows. “ER?”
“Emergency room… at the hospital.” She tried to keep her focus on the woman, but her eyes strayed to the man as he laboured for breath, unconscious again. “I work there.”
She lifted the lanyard draped around her neck, pulling it away from her white shirt to show the woman her pass.
The woman shook her head and looked the man over again. When her gaze reached his left arm, she frowned, stooped and gently lifted it. She placed her delicate hand over the bone, closed her eyes and pressed down.
The man roared and bucked up. He violently struggled, wrestling against the woman’s hold, and Marinda waited for him to send the woman flying. Only he didn’t. She weathered his frantic thrashing, kept hold of his arm and remained perfectly still, as if he wasn’t jolting around like a wild animal.
This time, when his lips parted, Marinda understood him.
“Hurts. Fucking hurts,” he snarled and sagged against the blue bedclothes, his fight leaving him again.
“I know.” The woman stroked her hand over his arm and Marinda’s eyes widened.
The bone was no longer poking out of his skin, and the cut left behind wasn’t even bleeding.
She had to be dreaming.
Or having a nightmare.
“He’s badly hurt. He needs medical attention.” Marinda tried to push onto her feet but her legs refused to bear her weight and she crashed back onto her knees.
“You are a doctor? A nurse? A practitioner of medicine?” The woman turned hopeful green eyes on her.
They were about to be filled with disappointment instead.
“I’m a cellist.” She braced her hands against her bare knees beyond the hem of her grey pencil skirt and drew down a slow breath to steady her heart. Panicking wasn’t going to get her anywhere. If she wasn’t dreaming, then she had been magically whisked to another place and was at the mercy of her hosts.
“A cellist?” The woman frowned.
“I play the cello.” She didn’t mean for it to come out apologetic, but it did. Of all the people to grab, he had unfortunately grabbed the one person in the room who was of little use to him. “I just work at the hospital to help pay for my education. I man the reception desk in the ER.”
The scarlet-haired beauty sighed. “You do not know anything about doctoring?”
She started to shake her head and then shrugged. “I did basic training a couple of years ago. Just things like recovery position, bandaging, treating minor wounds.”
“So you can help him.”
This time she did shake her head. “No. Those are not minor wounds. He’s bleeding badly, has broken bones, and -“
“Much of it is not his blood,” the woman said in a deadpan voice that had Marinda lapsing into stunned silence.
If it wasn’t his blood, whose blood was it?
The woman stared deep into her eyes. “I am asking you to help me to help my son.”
Her son? Marinda looked at him where he rested on the bed, finally calm again. He didn’t look a day older than this woman.
“He will heal faster if we both aid him.” The woman gently brushed tangled strands of his dirty hair from his forehead and a sigh slipped from his lips, a contented sound that was so at odds with his terrible condition.
He had to be in a lot of pain. So much that she couldn’t see how he could find a simple touch comforting. Perhaps he was delusional. She had seen patients in so much pain that they had been out of their minds.
“He needs treatment. Surgery. He needs doctors at the very least. Painkillers.” Marinda looked at him, taking stock of the numerous wounds covering his arms and chest, and the gashes in his combats that revealed more cuts.
Strangely, all of the wounds looked shallower now.
As if they were healing rapidly.
“No human medicine.” The woman’s voice gained a hard, cold edge that didn’t suit her.
Those three words ricocheted around Marinda’s head, stirring more questions. No human medicine?
The floor trembled beneath her and she leaned forwards and pressed her palms against it, waiting for the ominous peal of thunder that would follow it just as it had when they had been in the hospital.
It remained eerily quiet.
“He should not have brought you here.” The woman turned away from Marinda and gazed down at the man on the bed. “He will be in trouble with Hades when he comes around. Reckless child.”
Marinda’s eyes widened. “Hades. Like…. Clash of the Titans?”
Now she knew she was dreaming.
The woman scowled at her. “Now is not the time for ridiculous questions. My husband is not a Titan, nor is he an Olympian.”
This woman had to be insane. She was talking about being married to the god of the Underworld as if it was perfectly normal and utterly sane.
She touched the man’s right arm and the writing tattooed on it glowed blue. A sigh slipped from her rosy lips.
“Hades will not be pleased,” she whispered, as gentle as the first kiss of morning light, and lifted her hand and stroked his cheek in a way only a mother could. Her touch was light, spoke of love that Marinda could feel across the expanse of air between them; a touch meant to take away all the pain and make everything better.
A touch Marinda had never known.
Disquiet stirred inside her as she watched the interaction, longing to know what that touch felt like mingling with jealousy that this man knew it, that the woman standing over him clearly loved him with all of her heart.
Her thoughts slipped to her father, and an ache bloomed inside her, a need that grew rapidly to fill her. She missed him. She should have stayed with him until the last day of summer break as she normally did, soaking up every moment with him. If she had, she wouldn’t have been in this mess.
Presuming it wasn’t all in her head.
She pinched herself, but didn’t wake.
In fact, it only seemed to make things worse. The woman waved her hand over the bloodstained blue sheets near the man’s legs. Bandages, sutures and other things she couldn’t make out from this distance appeared there. Magic. Marinda pinched herself again.
“Come, child.” The woman held her hand out to Marinda as she glided towards her, her bare feet silent on the cold black stone floor. In her wake, flowers bloomed, entwined with twisted brambles.
Marinda went to pinch herself a third time but the woman took hold of her hand and the warmth of her touch sank straight into Marinda’s bones, reached right down into her soul to soothe some of the fear from it.
“Together we can do this.” She raised her hand and Marinda marvelled as strength flowed through her limbs, as her legs grew steady enough for her to stand.
There was magic in this woman’s touch.
Magic and an endless well of love.
She guided Marinda to the man, and released her to place two rolls of bandages into her hands. “Tend to his wounds while I mend his arm. Do not be afraid of him. He will not hurt you.”
Marinda knew that. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. He had been gentle with her in the hospital, had regretted what he had done afterwards, and the weird tongue he had spoken hadn’t pained her as it had everyone else.
She moved to the foot of the bed, crawled onto it and up to his other side, opposite his mother. A bowl of water appeared on the bed beside her, together with a stack of dark towels, and she looked at the woman.
“Help me save my son.”
Marinda nodded, because maybe if she helped him, she could go home and this crazy dream would end.
She soaked a cloth, squeezed it out and went to wipe some of the blood and grime from the man.
Home.
She paused and looked at him, that feeling stirring inside her again, and as ridiculous as it seemed, she found it impossible to deny.
He felt like home.
She looked around at the room as that pull towards him filled her again, drawing her closer to him, deeply aware that the woman hadn’t lied and she was in a hellish realm of dark gods and the dead.
And the craziest thought yet pinged into her mind.
It felt like home.
And she didn’t want to leave.
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Book 1: Ares
Book 2: Valen
Book 3: Esher
Book 4: Marek
Book 5: Calistos
Book 6: Daimon – Coming Fall 2020
Book 7: Keras – Coming Fall 2020
I’m absolutely loving this series!!!
I have to admit, Calistos surprised me quite a bit… until now it appeared that he was the laid back, fun loving playboy of the brothers but in his book we discover quite a different side to him and it made me like him more!! We knew he was there when his twin died, what we didn’t know was what happened in the aftermath and the full extent that experience has had on him over the centuries!!! For me, Cal without doubt grew up in this 5th book in the Guardians of Hades series!!
Marinda, poor girl, had her world turned upside down and so many secrets were revealed in such a short time that her head must have been about to explode most of the time!!
She discovers she’s more than she thought, but for a bit, we’re not sure exactly what that is…. her abilities and power were quite the surprise!!
I thought she was perfect for Calistos. She calmed and centred him and gave him focus at those times were he could have jumped too quickly and welcomed the darkness inside him. He in return was so patient, understanding and protective of Mari, even when she herself didn’t know what to do or think of all the events surrounding her. Her brought her some semblance of safety and grounded her when things were becoming too much.
I’m loving that the brothers are being further strengthened by the presence of their significant others and by the ladies own unique qualities! They’re gonna need every bit of power, wisdom and bravery that these woman bring to the group as we head into the final battles to save the gates and the fates of the two Worlds!!
The story arc continues at a pace, more is revealed about the other side who are hell bent (quite literally!!) on merging the two worlds and running amok in the hellish new reality it would bring.
There was action and battles aplenty – as we would expect when it comes to Felicity Heaton’s books – and we were introduced to a new character (who is gonna cause Daimon a whole world of hassle I’m sure!!)
I’m itching for Keras’s book as there’s now been so many little teasers about him and his lost love… but gods, I’m excited to see how Daimon is gonna fare with his own lady love…… there’s gonna be fun times ahead!!!!
A definite 5* read.
** If you haven’t started this series already, grab book one and dive head first into this thrilling world from Ms Heaton!!!
~ Tracy
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 London Vampires series. Seven sexy and sinful Greek god brothers can be your new addiction in the Guardians of Hades series. Or how about four hot alpha shifter brothers in her Cougar Creek Mates 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 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:
WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | INSTAGRAM
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RELEASE BLITZ : Dark Moon Falls volume 2 anthology
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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY ~ Unchained by a Forbidden Love (Eternal Mates #15) by Felicity Heaton
Book Tour and Giveaway!
Unchained by a Forbidden Love
(Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 15)
by Felicity Heaton
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?
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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.
It was never a good day when he woke with the taste of blood on his tongue and no recollection of how it had got there.
Again.
Fuery stared up into the darkness, cold sweat trickling over his exposed chest and sticking the thin black bedclothes to his legs. He breathed hard, each heavy desperate exhalation shattering the silence, rasping in his ears together with his thundering heartbeat.
Icy claws gripped him, sinking into the blackened remains of his heart, attempting to pierce deep enough to reach whatever fragment of light remained in him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, dragged down a shuddering breath and held it, unwilling to let fear pull him into the darkness. He would not let it win. He couldn’t. He exhaled slowly, a measured pace that created a sliver of calm, enough to give him the strength to shake the grip of his fear and allow him to extinguish that emotion.
Because fear was a weakness.
He did not feel such things.
He hadn’t in a long time.
Not since he had hardened himself to the world.
Not since that night.
Fuery screwed his eyes shut even tighter, his lips drawing into a grimace that flashed his emerging fangs as the darkness welled again, pulling up memories from the abyss. They surged and fought for freedom, and he growled as he pushed back against them, battled and resisted them. The fight took longer this time, strained minutes in which the fear slithered back in and wrapped around him again, squeezing his lungs tight and hissing whispered taunts in his ear, words about the terrible sins he had committed that had the memories surging harder, almost breaking to the surface.
He gripped the sides of his head and squeezed hard as he snarled through his clenched fangs. Tears cut down his temples, hot against his chilled skin. He didn’t want to remember, but he could never forget either.
He didn’t want to go back into the darkness, refused to sink into oblivion again and do the vile bidding of the darkness that lived inside him. Not again.
He grappled with fear, wrestled with the darkness, and fought the tide of memories, and somehow, the gods only knew how, he managed to subdue them and vanquish the raw agony and the sheer terror that threatened to push him back over the edge.
He panted hard, body trembling from the exertion of overcoming the darkness and clawing his way back to the light.
Couldn’t think about that night.
Never look back.
The past was pain.
A constant source of it that scoured his blackened soul.
No looking back.
He inhaled and exhaled, keeping them measured and deep, struggling for calm again as his past and his present churned inside him, rocking him and trying to keep him off balance, on the brink of teetering back into the abyss.
No looking back.
Fuery chanted it in his mind as he sought the calm—the quiet.
It was slow to come while the darkness roared inside him, drawn out by the fear that had paralyzed him, weakened him and opened him to it. Its inky tendrils snaked around his heart and squeezed it in his hollow chest.
Attempted to claim his soul.
Calm seemed an impossible dream while blood coated his tongue.
But gods, he wanted it, reached for it, desperate to shirk the grip of the fear and the darkness again.
They combined to overpower him and he could feel himself slipping again, skidding down that terrifying slope towards the cold forbidding darkness where it reached for him, beckoned him with promises of oblivion and an escape from the madness.
From the pain.
No looking back.
The past was a nightmare.
The past was pain.
Always pain.
He opened his eyes and stared up into the darkness as he forced himself to see where he was in a vain attempt to focus on the present. He was here, in the guild, in the free realm of Hell. He was far away from there. Leagues from the elf kingdom. Centuries away from his past.
Light streaked across the darkness and his eyes swiftly adjusted to the onslaught. A shadow made the slim vertical shaft flicker and then brightness exploded in the room, driving back the darkness entirely.
Just as the male on the threshold of his room drove it from his soul.
Hartt looked at him through sleep-filled eyes and murmured huskily in the elf tongue, “I felt you stir. Everything alright?”
Fuery went to nod, because any other response would leave him weak. Vulnerable. He stopped himself, paused and stared at Hartt where he stood dressed in only a loose pair of black cotton trousers and scrubbing a hand over his short sleep-mussed black-blue hair, yawning the whole time.
He didn’t need to protect himself like that with this male.
Hartt knew the truth of him. Knew his secrets. His story.
Fuery slowly shook his head.
Hartt yawned again, smacked his lips together and rubbed sleep from his violet eyes as he stepped into the room. He quietly closed the door, descending the room back into darkness that lasted only a second. A soft glow burned in the glass lamp on the low round wooden table near the window to Fuery’s left and gradually gained strength, driving back the shadows again and drawing some of the darkness out of the black plastered walls, softening the bleak colour.
Hartt’s doing, because Fuery’s own powers were unpredictable.
Unreliable since that night.
The male padded silently barefoot across the stone floor towards him and sat on the edge of the bed on his left, causing Fuery to roll towards him. The warm light chased over Hartt, throwing the left half of his face into shadow.
Hartt’s violet eyes softened as they met his. “Tell me about it.”
Fuery sank back into the double mattress on a sigh and averted his gaze, pinning it back on the wooden ceiling. Gods, he didn’t want to speak about it. Everything in him screamed to protect himself by making the male go away, but that light Hartt always seemed to draw out of him emulated the lamp, fought to grow brighter and drive the darkness back.
He had to speak about it. Years of experience had taught him that. Holding it inside would only give the darkness a firmer hold on him, making it harder to shake it and increasing the risk of him sinking into that terrible oblivion again.
He didn’t want to go there.
So he forced himself to speak.
“I woke…” His hands tensed against his bare stomach, fingers curling into fists, and he pushed onwards. “I woke with the taste of blood in my mouth.”
He could still taste it now.
He dropped his gaze to his body. No trace of crimson on his torso. He uncurled his hands and lifted them, stared at his fingers and his callused palms, scouring them for a sign, some evidence that he had lost himself to the darkness and had killed.
There wasn’t a single fleck of blood on him.
But it was there in his mouth.
Coppery. Vile.
“I think I did something terrible,” he whispered and shook his head, numbness sweeping through him and bringing fear in its wake, a stronger wave this time, one that threatened to pull him under. Break him. “I don’t remember. I can’t recall how I got to my bed.”
He shifted his gaze to land on Hartt.
The pity shining in Hartt’s violet eyes drove shame through his heart like a spear and he quickly looked away.
“I put you here,” Hartt said softly, his deep voice a bare whisper but one that soothed Fuery, easing his fear and the grip the darkness had on him. “You had an… episode… and I brought you home.”
Relief bloomed inside him, sweet and warm, but the darkness still refused to release him and worry continued to slither inside him like a living thing, hissing in his ear that Hartt was lying, that he had killed and the male was covering it up.
Hartt seemed to see it, because he sighed and jerked his chin towards him. “Open your mouth.”
Fuery didn’t hesitate to do as he was ordered. The male leaned over, peered into his mouth and lifted his top lip with his left hand. When he prodded Fuery’s tongue on the left side, sharp pain lanced the length of it and he flinched, almost biting Hartt’s finger. The male was too fast for him though, reacted in a heartbeat and had his finger clear before Fuery’s fangs could pierce his flesh.
“You must have bitten your tongue when you were thrashing around. That’s all.” Hartt eased back.
Gods, the relief that hit Fuery this time was like ambrosia. It poured through him, washing away his worry and easing the chill from his blood.
Hartt’s lips tugged into a smile and he slowly shook his head. “For a male who makes a living taking lives, you are oddly affected by the idea of killing.”
Fuery knew it was a paradox, that Hartt was right and he had no qualms about his life as an assassin.
But there was a vast difference between killing when he was in control and murder when he was lost to the darkness.
He had felt that way for many centuries.
He had felt it since that night.
Now he couldn’t bear the idea he might kill someone innocent during one of his blackouts.
He looked to Hartt and saw in his eyes that he wouldn’t tell him if he did. Hartt was noble in his desire to protect him from the pain of the things he did when the darkness was in control, but Fuery didn’t want his friend to lie to him, to cover the truth and spare him like that.
He needed to know the things that he did. He had to know them. He could never atone, but he could bear his sins.
Because all that he had done, and all that he might do, paled in comparison to the sin he had committed.
That night.
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BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy
There’s a very good chance I’ve said this before about other instalments in this series… BUT Unchained by a Forbidden Love is up there as a real favourite of the Eternal Mates books to date.
I felt that this book was slightly different than previous in the series – while before we had dealt with issues our main couple had we also had the Archangel storyline featuring quite heavily and a lot of action and suspense around that arc. In Fuery and Shaia book things were a lot more personal and to an extent there was a bit less focus on what was going on around them – though our hero was still carrying out his role as an assassin and we caught up with a few of our favourite characters from earlier in the series – I loved the fact that we followed Shaia and Fuery’s history, heartache and battle to get back to where they once were.
We knew from before that Fuery was pretty lost to the darkness and not far from becoming totally gone but we had no idea what had caused him to fall so far and when we did discover the cause I could completely understand and my heart broke for them both!
We jump back and forth through four centuries and the true depth of feeling and love between our couple was palpable. Even though they had been separated for so long, their connection, chemistry and devotion was as deep as it had been when they first knew each other. I loved Shaia’s strength and belief in Fuery, she wouldn’t give up on him even when she was encouraged to.
As you would expect from a Felicity Heaton read the story was action packed, had some twists and turns, battles of the heart and a shed load of heat and attraction.
You’d possibly think that by the 15th book in a series things would maybe be getting a little slow or repetitive but I can honestly say that this series just keeps getting better and I’m looking forward to finding out what’s next for the Eternal Mates
5 hugely deserved stars!!!
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:
WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | INSTAGRAM
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NEW RELEASE ~ Moonlight (Moonkind Series #2) by Ines Johnson
She was no damsel but he rescued her anyway.
SYNOPSIS
You can never go home again…
Viviane Veracruz is on her way home from university with a degree in one hand…and a baby in her belly. Desperate to escape the judgement of her family, she accepts a sexy stranger’s offer to pose as the father for a few days.
The plan is for him to run off leaving her family none the wiser. But the longer Pierce Alcede stays, the more she can’t let him go.
Home is where the heart is…
Pierce Alcede has finally come to terms with the fact that he is a lone wolf, prone to roam the wilderness alone and never settle down with a family of his own. When he meets a pregnant woman in need, he thinks nothing of stepping in to take the brunt of her family’s ire. But somewhere between working on the Veracruz Ranch by day and climbing into Viviane’s bed at night, Pierce forgets to run away.
Can a woman searching for a place to belong find a home with a man who lives to roam?
Moonlight is the second in a paranormal romance series full of alpha men and the strong, capable women that bend them to their knees. If you like a touch of magic in your romance novels, then you’ll love the witches, fairies, and wolves in the dystopian world of the moonkind.
EXCERPT
“Is this seat taken?”
The husky feminine voice called Pierce’s attention away from the window and up long legs, down dangerously curved hips, around high, pert breasts to end at a heart-shaped face engulfed in a halo of dark curls. The dark curls and lush curves marked her as a wolf.
Pierce cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He motioned with his hands for the she-wolf to take the place across from him. She struggled to lift her luggage into the overhead compartment. Pierce stood to offer assistance.
“I’ve got it,” she insisted and hefted the bulk over her head with a grunt.
Pierce stepped back. He was used to strong, independent women. He’d been surrounded by them his whole life. He took no offense that this woman didn’t want his assistance. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a gentleman. He waited to be sure she’d secured the case. Then he waited some more until she was seated.
When she’d finished with her case and stepped into the booth, she stopped in front of her seat and blinked at him. Confusion and then irritation played across the angles of her beautiful face. Her brows rose to her hairline. She tilted her head towards his seat. When he failed to sit down, she motioned with her hand.
Pierce flustered down into his seat, averting his gaze. Had he made a mistake? Perhaps she wasn’t a wolf? Perhaps she was a witch?
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d mistaken a witch for a wolf. His last encounter with a witch -on a train no less- had led to a wedding. It had nearly been his wedding. Until his older brother, Jackson, had stepped in and claimed Lucia as the mate to his soul. The wolf and witch lived happily in a quaint little cottage in the woods.
With Pierce now in his seat, the woman sat. She crossed those mile long legs. Then she cleared her throat.
Pierce blinked. Then he realized; he’d been staring. That’s when he knew she wasn’t a witch. Had she been one he’d have been under a spell by now.
He looked up to offer a sheepish apology. When his eyes met hers, his breath caught in his throat. Beneath the halo of dark, thick hair she had eyes of the lightest blue. Pierce had seen the ocean of the Arctic. That body of water was a dark, murky swamp compared to the crystals set deep in this woman’s face.
He was a lone wolf, prone to roam. He was also a man with needs. Both man and wolf salivated at this woman before him. He was certain his interest was plain. He heard himself panting. His mouth watered. He brushed his thumb at the corner of his lip to capture the drop of evidence.
In response, the she-wolf closed her eyes and sighed. Her foot tapped an irritated song on the floorboards. She turned her head and focused her attention outside at the scenery.
“This is beautiful countryside,” he tried.
They were now far from Sequoia and nearer to the Mexican border.
“Yes,” she said. She turned her head from the window and produced a book from the bag in her lap. She held the book up in front of her face, blocking him from her beauty.
The terse response indicated that she wasn’t interested in him. It should’ve turned Pierce off. It didn’t. The last thing he wanted was an entanglement. Her disinterest in him would serve him well. If he could flip that disinterest, and by extension her, on its back for the morning.
Pierce rarely went for she-wolves. The hot-blooded females could form attachments with males who were not their mates. It was in their natures.
He saw no bite marks on her collarbone. He scented no other wolf on her skin. Though he noted a male scent; probably human. Wolves played with humans, but they didn’t mate for life. Which meant she likely wasn’t looking for any entanglements herself. If he could just capture her attention, he might spark her interest.
“I hope you don’t mind my saying,” he began, a wolfish smile on his face. “But you have the most beautiful-”
“You know, I’m perfectly fine if we dispense with all the niceties and sit here in companionable silence.” She said it with the most polite, most beatific smile.
That smile made Pierce’s blood pump and his cock harden. He’d give her anything to keep her smiling at him like that. “If that’s what you wish.”
“It is.” She aimed the smile pointedly at him.
From his peripheral view, he caught a look at the stupid grin on his face in the glass window. “Then that’s what you’ll have.”
“Thank you.” She pulled the book up, hiding her smile and those eyes, breaking the spell. With her smile gone, Pierce’s grin turned into a frown. He read the cover of the thick book in her hands; Sheep Health, Husbandry, and Disease. He doubted it was for pleasure reading. Perhaps it was a textbook? Maybe she was a student? Sequoia University was near the train station.
“Are you a student?”
She lowered the book and arrowed those light-colored eyes at him. “I thought we agreed to dispense with the niceties?” She smiled, but the facial expression was tight and full of annoyed patience.
His wolf wanted to poke it with his paw. “I can’t help it. I’m always nice. My mother raised a gentleman.”
Her false facade dropped at the word gentleman. “The only time males are gentlemen,” she practically spat the word, “is when they want to get up a female’s skirt.”
Pierce’s eyes darted to those long legs and the hem of her skirt. By the time he made it back to her face, he knew he was caught. He put on his most winning smile. This smile had gotten him an A in Ms. Peckham’s Chemistry class even after he failed both the midterm and final exams. Fairies fell to their knees at this smile. Hell, even a witch had fallen under the spell of this smile. Pierce launched it at the wolf across from him.
Before he could put forth words, she opened her mouth to speak. Then she swallowed. She rubbed her hand over her flat abdomen. Finally, she lurched forward, vomiting in his lap. So much for his A game.
Moonrise ~ Book 1 in the series
Sometimes love at first sight needs a second glance.
It’s love at first sight when Lucia rescues a charming wolf shifter from certain death. She’s sure he feels the same way and will tell her so—just as soon as he wakes up from his coma. To remain by his side at the emergency room, she pretends she’s his mate. But her resolve is tested when she gets a glimpse of her fake-mate’s brother.
For months, Jackson has sensed that his fated mate was near. When he enters his unconscious brother’s hospital room, he instantly pounces on the beautiful, curvaceous woman he finds there, ready to mark her as his. Until he learns his brother got there first. Jackson’s skepticism about their mating grows the more he gets to know Lucia. She has nothing in common with his wayward brother, but she checks everyone of Jackson’s boxes.
As Jackson and Lucia fight their attraction, the rest of the family embraces Lucia as one of their own. But what will happen when his brother, her fake-mate, wakes up?
You can purchase this book now.
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MOONRISE EXCERPT:
Jackson
The ride across town was a blur. On the streets, Jackson defied the sped limit, sirens blaring.
Once he reached the hospital, he tore through the doors, startling the woman behind the desk. “PPU,” he flashed his badge. “Pierce Alcede’s room.”
The woman scrambled and gave him the room number.
As Jackson stalked down the hall, he caught another whiff of that tantalizing scent. It nearly knocked him off his course, but his mind deftly shifted to his brother.
Inside the room his brother lay limp on the hospital bed. Pierce had grown smaller since the last time Jackson had seen him. Or perhaps it was because he lay prone and helpless in a bed. The sharp angles of his cheeks appeared gaunt. He needed a shave. The fuzz on his chin and cheeks were overgrowing as it tended to do with wolves in general, but the Alcede men in particular. It also looked as though it had been a while since Pierce had had his haircut. Pierce never groomed as much as Jackson, because unlike Jackson, Pierce rarely had to make himself presentable doing a job he didn’t find fulfilling. No, Pierce got to traipse around the world and get into fights with humans over protecting a witch.
Before Jackson’s irritation at his brother could take hold of him, Pierce pulled in a struggling breath and then settled once more. Jackson sighed and released his anger at his wounded baby brother.
He took a deep breath and the tantalizing scent from the train station reached his nose and diverted his attention. The scent was a light layer on his brother’s skin, beneath the antiseptic and other chemical smells the doctors used on him. What the hell was that?
It appeared to grow closer and denser in his nose as though it were enveloping him in a balloon; expanding wider, a wave growing larger. The door to the hospital room opened, and the wave crashed into him.
Standing just inside the door was the most beautiful woman Jackson had ever seen. She had a mane of thick hair. Her skin was a cross between raw honey and an almond, perhaps honeyed almonds because that’s exactly what she smelled like.
She had her back to him and he caught the shapely hourglass figure that could only belong to a wolf woman. Fairies were tall, thin waifs. Witches, what few he’d encountered in person, were strong and muscular. Human women ran the gamut, but none had the curves of a wolf.
And then she turned.
Her face was perfection. Heart-shaped with a full set of lips that parted as she saw him standing there. Her dark eyes widened. She opened her mouth and said something, but the scent of her fogged Jackson’s brain and the single word didn’t translate.
Jackson’s canines watered. His claws pierced the tips of his fingers. The pain distracted him, and his wolf slipped its leash. He was on her before he could stop himself.
She gasped in surprise as he pinned her to the door. His body flush with hers, but not quite touching. Only a half an inch between his chest and hers. His legs boxed her in below. His arms caged her in. They were nose to nose. The taste of her breath on his tongue was nearly enough to make him raise up the thin dress she wore.
But he couldn’t do that. He didn’t even know her name.
“Tell me your name.” It wasn’t his voice. It came from within. It was the wolf’s deep growl.
The woman—no, not the woman—his woman. His woman flinched. She gasped in a breath, taking away a tendril of the scent. The loss felt like an ocean going down a drain.
From within, Jackson grabbed at his wolf. But the beast swatted his attempt away. It was in full control. The honey-brown tint of her skin was slowly changing to shades of silver.
“Please,” the word came out a grumbled plea. It was the best the wolf could do being this close to the woman he knew was his mate. Jackson’s upper lip grazed her nose as he said the word. She shivered in the cage of his arms. It took all of Jackson’s inner strength to hold the wolf back that half of an inch between his body and hers. “I want to know what to call you, besides mine.”
She tilted her head up at him. Her dark eyes widened even more. “Yours?”
Jackson’s lips curled up in a possessive smile. He knew he must look possessed. But she didn’t run. She didn’t flinch. She stared at him, caught in this trap.
She was a wolf. She knew she could reject him. She also knew it wouldn’t mean he wouldn’t let her go so easily. He would pursue her until she gave in or she accepted another’s suite. Even then, his feelings would never likely die. That was the way of male wolves.
But she didn’t run. She kept perfectly still.
Of course she knew if she ran, he would chase. He would track her and when he finally caught her, he would pin her down and lick, nip, and stroke her into submission.
By the Goddess, he wanted her to run. Jackson’s hand slipped to the door handle, prepared to turn it to give her a head start.
And then she spoke. “My name is Lucia.”
Lucia
Over this man’s broad shoulder she spied Pierce lying prone on the bed. In an instant, the man she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with was blocked from her view, and all she saw was the beast of a man who held her captive in his churning gaze.
His eyes bored into hers. There wasn’t a thought of fear in the layers of brown and bronze and gold. There was only hunger. With every flick and twitch of his irises Lucia felt herself being devoured.
He held her there. She was free to move, but her body was entirely immobilized, captivated by his gaze.
A wave a panic hit Lucia. Was she under a spell? Could this be a warlock weaving his magic into her brain to leave her a spineless, whimpering damsel in distress? Would he put a gold ring on her finger and rob her of her will and her shoes to become barefoot and pregnant for the rest of her days?
A low growl escaped the man. Not a growl, more like a purr. There wasn’t any menace in the sound. It wasn’t the dominant sound a predator made when it spotted easy prey. The sound that emanated from the chest of this large man with soul-brown eyes reminded Lucia of evening prayers. The sound was reverent, humble, grateful.
Any ounce of fear, any thought of flight, fled Lucia’s very being.
The cauldron of his eyes traced each of her brows, every lash on her left then her right eyelid. They burned a path down her nose, hanging on the tip. When the corner of his mouth hitched up in a grin, she pressed her thighs together, certain her undergarments were about to slip off her hips.
“Tell me your name,” he said in a voice that was barely human. “Please? I want to know what to call you, besides mine.”
“Yours?” she asked.
Lucia’s heart pounded in her ears, drowning out any sense. This man—no, this wolf had called her his. He was claiming her. A wave of pleasure rolled down her shoulders and settled low in her abdomen when he’d called her ‘mine.’ She wanted him to say that word again, and then again.
It had been so long since she’d felt like she belonged. For the past ten years since her mother’s passing, she’d felt like a burden to Mother Sage. She’d felt like an outsider in her coven. She’d felt so alone since her mother had returned to the Goddess. But this wolf wanted her name.
The myths and lore about there being power in names held a fair amount of truth. When you called out someone’s name, you captured their attention. When someone affixed their name to a piece of paper it transferred power. When a woman took a man’s name, it consolidated power. There was an awesome amount of power in names.
She gave him hers.
INSPIRATION:
These stories are based on my favorite holiday movies. Starting around November, cable channels start to run romantic comedies like While You Were Sleeping and Moonstruck. I will stop what I’m doing and watch these films, even if I catch them in the middle. What gets me each time is that love comes to the characters unexpectedly and they’re helpless to do anything about it.
Although I’m a fan of romantic comedies on cable, I’m not the hugest reader of that genre. I like a touch of magic with my romance novels. That got me thinking; What if these books were set in a paranormal world? I wrote Moonrise my adaption of While You Were Sleeping in December. Then in January, I penned Moonlight after I caught Keanu Reeves stomping grapes in A Walk in the Clouds. And in February, I adapted the Cher classic Moonstruck into Moonfall with a wolf that is barely on this side of sanity, but he loves hard. Enter my paranormal romance series full of alpha men and the strong, capable women that bend them to their knees. If you like a touch of magic in your romance novels, then you’ll love the witches, fairies, and wolves in the dystopian world of the moonkind.
AUTHOR Q & A
What got you started in writing?
I come from a family of storytellers. My mother would talk your ears off for hours and my father is a songwriter. I began my storytelling career in television, where I still dabble from time to time. A few years ago I’d written a script that I thought would make an excellent book, only I didn’t know how to write a book. So I took a couple of classes and started querying. I never received a single rejection letter. Instead, I got no responses at all in the beginning! But I never gave up and I never stopped writing. Wait, isn’t the definition of insanity?
How do you get your ideas for writing?
I’m a very bad Buddhist. I sit each week in sangha, which is similar to sitting in a church pew on Sunday. In a sangha the teacher, think preacher, will lecture on spiritual teachings and guide the group in mediation. During meditation when I’m supposed to be getting my zen on, my mind always wanders back to the teaching and turns it into a story.
What do you like to read? Perfect heroines are boring and unrealistic to me; they must be flawed in some way. I prefer stories where the heroine’s a strong, bright, and successful in their careers but are clueless and inept in their love lives.
How long did you write before you were published?
I went to school for producing and screenwriting, and worked in the broadcasting industry for over a decade, before trying my hand at novel writing. I wrote my first novel in 2009. It was based off a script that I wrote but couldn’t find the financing for. I was so proud of my work, but readers and critique partners noted that it was evident that I was a screenwriter and didn’t understand the mechanics of novelization. Screenwriting consists of action and dialogue. That’s it. In scripts, there is no internal monologuing and setting is minimal. I had some learning to do. Five years, and a ton of classes later, I’ve got four published novels lush in setting and internal angst.
Generally, how long does it take you to write a book?
The first time I tried to write a book it took me one year to write the first three chapters because I agonized over each word choice. Now, I believe in fast drafting. Vomit the story onto the page without a care for comma placement. All told, it takes me about six months from the first drafted word to the final polished manuscript.
I take three to four weeks for the first draft, which I call The Dirty. I let The Dirty breath for as long as I am able to be parted with it -usually a week or two. Then I come back and Sweep up the grammar and plot holes, which usually takes another three to four weeks.
Next I send The Swept draft out to my trusted critique partners. When it comes back I Clean it up for another three weeks focusing on my weaknesses, which is setting. Finally, I send The Clean manuscript off to the copyeditor for two to three weeks. When it comes back I Polish up all the commas and rethink my overused words. Then I hit publish, and start all over again!
What genres do you write?
I write romantic erotica, paranormal romance, and fairy tale retelling romance novels. Notice the romance in each genre. I began writing YA, but realized my love scenes were too hot for teens!
What is the most you have written in one day?
The most I’ve written in one day is 4551 words. How do I know that? Because I keep a log. I record what plot point I was writing, where I wrote, what time I started writing, how long I wrote, and my word count.
I typically Fast Draft with a friend; a competitive friend. I recommend writing along with competitive people. It forces you to get the words out. I also believe in incentives and I give myself stickers when I meet my word count -a trick I learned stalking Laini Taylor’s blog.
What are you currently reading?
I’m reading a nonfiction book called “Sperm Wars: The Science of Sex” by Robin Baker. The title reveals the subject matter. It’s about what goes on inside a fertile woman’s body. Did you know that less than 1% of sperm is designed for fertilization of the egg? There are Terminator sperm that engage in warfare with enemy sperm from the PartTime Lover. Its fascinating! Its research for my current WIP.
What are your current projects?
There are so many stories in my head begging to get out. I’m drafting the fourth book in my fairytale retellings where all the heroines are single mothers getting a second chance at love. And, waiting in the wings is my new adult, science fiction romance, which is an ode to the sun.
AUTHOR INFO
Ines writes books for strong women who suck at love. If you rocked out to the twisted triangle of Jem, Jericha, and Rio as a girl; if you were slayed by vampires with souls alongside Buffy; if you need your scandalous fix from Olivia Pope each week, then you’ll love her books!
Aside from being a writer, professional reader, and teacher, Ines is a very bad Buddhist. She sits in sangha each week, and while others are meditating and getting their zen on, she’s contemplating how to use the teachings to strengthen her plots and character motivations.
Ines lives outside Washington, DC with her two little sidekicks who are growing up way too fast.
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