Tuesday, 8 March 2022

Author Bio and Book Blitz: Glenn Beavers

 Today, I have the pleasure of introducing you to Glenn Beavers, a British children's book author.




Glenn is a welder by trade but began making up and telling stories to his young grandson when he came to stay. His grandson encouraged him to write them down, which has led to several years of notes, ideas, and concepts. Glenn had amassed a few short stories that he self-published. However, he wasn't content with just writing short stories, so he began writing his first novel for children: SWIFT 1: Mindy, a New Breed, published in 2019. He then decided to re-edit and bundle his short stories into a series. Thus, the Grandparents, Parents and Children series came into being. After publishing SWIFT, Glenn began working on a new series, Rasta Christmas and the Santa Corps. Rasta Christmas and the Santa Corps: The summer connection is the first book. He also began work on the second book in the SWIFT series, Ramsbottom Betty's Revenge. Then, during the pandemic of 2019/2020, Glenn began working on the second book in the Rasta Christmas series, Rasta Christmas And The Santa Corps: Santa Girl. Today, he is still coming up with ideas for all series and potentially other stories, too.

Let's get to know him better. I sent him some questions, which he kindly answered:

1. When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer? 
I played with the idea for over ten/fifteen years, not really thinking I could or not entirely taking the notion seriously.

2.     How long does it take you to write a book? 
Good question. How long is a piece of string? It depends on my time dedicated to the idea and the ideas I generate to make a story come together. My shortest a few weeks, then the editing and design, ending up months.

3. What do you think makes a great story? 
Something that captures people's /children's imaginations. Something they become a part of.

4.     What is your work schedule like when you're writing?
To be truthful erratic, and inconsistent. This aspect I need to work on and dedicate myself to the project.

5.    How do you balance family and writing?
It's really not a problem at the moment; life in general, work, living, day-to-day events do cause interference. 

6.    Where do you get your information or ideas for your books?
Ideas I don't usually have a problem with; something will generally pop out of my head. Any information otherwise is by asking people or googling for information. 

7.    What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your book/s?
Despite the industry being very hard to break into, or, in my case, it has been. The surprising things are the fact I can do this, and secondly, I'm blown away when both adults and children say they really liked them or even loved them, which I do get. That feels very satisfying. It feels good, especially with being a welder for over forty years. This is quite different.

8.    How many books have you written? Which is your favourite? 
Twelve books so far, my favourite at a squeeze would be Rasta Christmas and the Santa Corps. But all of them, really. When you hatch an idea then turn it into a story and children or parents like it, that is a very cool feeling.

9.    Are your characters based on anyone you know?
No, not really, not as yet.

10.   Do you have a favourite place you love to write?
If given a choice at a desk with a view. When writing and stopping for a while, I tend to daydream and then ideas flow from fresh air, not all the time but quite often. 

11.   What do you like to do when you are not writing?
Just get on with life; whatever that is at that moment in time.

12.   Do you have any suggestions to help aspiring writers better themselves and their craft? If so, what are they? 
Just do it, do it to any level you feel comfortable with a nice simple little story for friends and family or a best seller. AND DO NOT LISTEN TO PEOPLE WHO SAY YOU CANT!!!

13.   As a child, what did you want to do when you grew up?
When I grew up one of two and don't ask me why I have no idea, A)  Vicar and  B) a Comedian.

14.   What are your favourite books, and which authors inspire you?
To start with Steven King then James Clavell. I read Lord of the Rings. J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter I think for me; her use of words is like liquid velvet, I think she's a great writer. But I tend to love auto and biographies. Mainly of people who have struggled then come out on top and won through, A bit like a kind of Rocky, it could be a simple thing but someone who has struggled and done well. 

15.   What are you working on now?
Geoffrey. Possibly which is a tall order or I cant choose, Rasta three, SWIFT three, George and Queenie two or even a blobysaurus stand alone spin off from Queenie. So not really sure.

Author Links:

Goodreads ; YouTube ; YouTube 2


Now we've met Glenn, let's take a look at his books and series. We'll start with the Grandparents, Parents and Children's series. Currently, there are six books in the series. They are available individually and in a single volume as a collection. 

The first book in the series is Grandad and the Giraffes (Grandparents, Parents and Children Book 1):


Synopsis:

Why do all giraffes look the same – or do they? It's almost as though Grandad was there with the monkeys and the giraffes. 'In the time of the giraffe, giraffes were wondrous creatures.' 'How, Grandad? How, different?' So Grandad tells the story of what happened to the incredibly coloured giraffe clans.

The second is Mum's Turn to Drive (Grandparents, Parents and Children Book 2)


Synopsis:

This story is not about everybody's mother, or everybody's father. But it is about an exciting journey to school. Does it sound just a little like yours? The girls are excited. Today, mum is driving them to school. It's sure going to be fun to see who dares cross her path!

The third book is Noah the Bullfighter and Caballito (Grandparents, Parents and Children Book 3) 



Synopsis: 

There was a prophecy that, one day, all the bulls in Spain would be saved from bullfighting. Even Caballito, the most feared bull in all of Spain. Join young Noah as he finds out if that day has finally come.

The fourth book is Quincy the Miserable Dragon (Grandparents, Parents and Children Book 4)



Synopsis:

Why is Quincy soooo miserable? Especially during BBQ season. Someone needs to show him just how special he is and put a smile back on his face.

The fifth book is The Loneliest Star (Grandparents, Parents and Children Book 5)



Synopsis:

Have you ever felt that nobody is listening to you? He was a lonely star with a big heart. It took a boat in peril to help his true character shine through. After you've enjoyed the story, get out your colouring pencils and make the pictures your own.

The sixth book is The Spider Who Was Afraid of Heights (Grandparents, Parents and Children Book 6)



Synopsis:

If you've you ever been turned to ice by fear, then listen to what happened to Morgan. If you are quick enough to catch him he'll tell you how he overcame his fear – by taking tiny steps. After you've enjoyed the story, get out your colouring pencils and make the pictures your own.

Finally, the entire collection can be found in Grandparents, Parents and Children Collected Stories: Volume One.


Synopsis:

The first six delightful stories in the Grandparents, Parents and Children series:

Grandad and the Giraffes - all about why giraffes look the same, or do they?
Mum's Turn to Drive - not a story about everybody's family, but perhaps it is a bit like yours?
Noah the Bullfighter and Caballito - there was a prophecy that, one day, all the bulls in Spain would be free;
Quincy the Miserable Dragon - someone needed to help Quincy feel special;
The Loneliest Star - how do you make people listen to you?
The Spider Who Was Afraid of Heights - Morgan leans how to deal with his deepest fear.

Then, there is George And Queenie, a stand-alone adventure:


Synopsis:

An alarm clock is bad enough, imagine being hit on the back of the head with a hammer and chisel.
Well, that’s how this story starts with a start and a huge shock if you prefer. A Dinosaur awoken from a very long sleep and being told he is treasure trove and belongs to the Queen. He doesn’t know what a queen is and goes to see her to fight his case of being an individual.
There are many more on this wonderful journey, with a Queen, a sixty-six million-year-old dinosaur, or should I say young dinosaur. That’s just the beginning, sit back and enjoy the show and all the wonderful friends all just doing their best.

These books are aimed at all ages but usually 3-10 years. Now, I introduce two exciting series for middle grade to teen readers. However, these books would be ideal bedtime stories for adults to read to younger children, too. We begin with SWIFT 1: Mindy, a New Breed:



Synopsis:

Only the best of the best, the brightest sheep, qualify for SWIFT. Melvin, an evil genius and head of CRUSH (Criminal Ruthless Undercover Sneaky Hitmen), prepares to hold the world to ransom. He threatens to release the deadly foot and mouth disease on an unsuspecting public. Mindy, a young ewe, is determined to follow in her missing father’s hoofprints and joins the army. After she is invited to join SWIFT she gets even nearer to discovering the truth. Will Mindy and her teammates bring the evil genius to hoof? Or will Melvin’s dastardly plan succeed?

The second book, SWIFT 2: Ramsbottom Betty's Revenge



Synopsis:

Mindy and her team are no longer recruits. They beat CRUSH and foiled Melvin’s dastardly plot – but new threats are not far away. Evil never sleeps. The National Art Gallery is celebrating the Queen’s birthday. Mindy and SWIFT join forces with SWINE to guard the priceless artwork. Lady C, aka Ramsbottom Betty, broods in her front room over Melvin’s death. She wants revenge by humiliating SWIFT in front of the whole world. With her team of deadly WI (Wollen Institute) ladies, she plans how to use their own tech against SWIFT and their associates. Mindy may have won the battle, but Ramsbottom Betty aims to win the war.

Finally, though not least, we introduce Rasta Christmas and the Santa Corps, a most unusual but magical series.

Rasta Christmas and the Santa Corps: The summer connection is an adventure story that will appeal to everyone. Although it mentions Christmas, it is in no way a Christmas story. 


Synopsis:

The first tale in the new Santa Corps series. You have no idea how much help Father Christmas gets – all year round. Best friends Alesha and Jaden know they’ve got a chance of winning the school essay competition. They only need to find out a bit more about the legendary Nightsurfer. Does he genuinely ride the waves at night and dance across the roofs? They investigate by climbing their Caribbean island volcano – and get lost. Rasta Christmas, a member of the Santa Corps, finds them and takes them on a magical adventure. They discover the actual use of the Bermuda Triangle, and meet a talking parrot, walking fire hydrants and a friendly alien. When a hurricane arrives, battering the island, Alesha’s fisherman father and his crew are out at sea in mortal danger. Who will save them from the raging storm? Beautifully illustrated by Kris Lillyman, this is a charming tale for all seasons, all ages and all imaginations.

Just published, Rasta Christmas And The Santa Corps: Santa Girl



Synopsis:

 An amazing fantasy adventure has become real. Rasta, Alesha and Jaden are now best of friends. With the bonus of the Santa Corps and Santa himself involved.

A new chapter of the story begins to open. With more magic, more of Rasta’s friends, more of the Santa Corps.

Alesha and Jaden travel from their Caribbean island home to the North Pole, visit the ocean’s depths, and meet new friends, including an exceptional person.

From the shadows, a glimpse of the darker side of Christmas: Who is Claws? Where is he from? Who are the Naughties? And what is a Santa girl?

This new bigger story opens into a beautiful new world of the most likeable and strange characters based on and around the Christmas story – but in name only.

It’s a story for all the family - Christmas characters in an everyday magical world.


All of Glenn's books are available through Amazon US, Amazon UK and Waterstones.

Tuesday, 3 August 2021

Book Tour: Stolen by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Book 1) by Felicity Heaton @FelicityHeaton



New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton is here today for the book tour for Stolen by her Bear, the first book in her brand new bear shifter romance series, Black Ridge Bears! The Black Ridge Bears series is all about the growly neighbours of the shifters in the Cougar Creek Mates series and is part of the Eternal Mates world. You can find out more about the world at http://www.felicityheaton.com/

If you love sizzling shifter romances featuring 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!






Stolen by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Series Book 1)
by Felicity Heaton

Saint is a bear shifter on the warpath. He just wants to sleep the winter away, but his rowdy neighbours in the remote Rocky Mountains valley have other plans. When the cougar shifter brothers refuse to keep the noise down, he reacts on instinct, kidnapping a beautiful female who smells like sweet berries and tempts him like no other—a female who happens to be mated to one of the brothers.

Holly’s first taste of freedom isn’t going as planned. Escaping her family to join in the winter wedding celebrations at Cougar Creek with her friend Ember sounded fantastic, until a grouchy bear shifter grabs her—a gorgeous male who rouses instincts in her that are startling and powerful, igniting a fierce need to growl and stake a claim on him. A gorgeous bear who might be her fated mate.

Can Holly resist the hungers Saint awakens in her? And when Saint realises his mistake about her identity, can he convince the stunning Holly to give him a second chance?










Saint turned his frown on the snow that reached almost as high as the deck, had to be at least three feet deep where it had accumulated against the underside of his raised cabin. His gaze tracked across the undulating snow that stretched between him and the thick forest of lodgepole pines and spruces.

This was going to be one shitty walk.

Putting it off wasn’t going to make it any nicer though, or make his mood any better.

He wasn’t the only grouchy bear on the property either. He glanced to his right at Knox and Lowe, could see by their faces they were as pissed as he was by the disturbance. Having the three of them tired and grumpy would only make all of them worse in the long run, would bring out the bear in them and cause them to bicker and fight, destroying the peace they normally enjoyed. So as much as he despised the thought of dropping down into three feet of snow, he was going to have to do it.

Gods, he was glad Rune and Maverick had gone to Vancouver for winter as they always did, the two of them travelling to a bolthole they shared there. Neither of them was the sort of bear to sleep the months away, preferred to be awake through winter, but like him, they didn’t like snow. Saint had once made the mistake of convincing them to stay at Black Ridge for winter, had denied the urge to sleep so he could stay awake with them.

It hadn’t gone well.

They had made it to December before Rune and Maverick had gotten into a brawl so bad he had feared they would kill each other, and then all three of them had holed up in their individual cabins until the snowmelt. It had been the longest damned winter of Saint’s life. He hadn’t been able to sleep, had stayed awake to make sure Rune and Maverick made it to spring.

He scrubbed a hand over his beard, hoping like hell things didn’t end up that bad this time. If they couldn’t get back to sleep, ended up having to stay awake, then he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his cool and smooth the edge of his own mood to maintain order within their makeshift pride.

As it was, he was itching for a fight.

If Knox or Lowe tried to start anything, just looked at him the wrong way, he was liable to blow his top.

Knox kicked the snow off his deck, grumbling, “I’m tempted to go deal with whoever is making all that noise.”

“Rein it in, or I’ll be tempted to deal with you,” Lowe muttered as he finished pushing the last of the snow off his own deck, piling it up around the thick wooden pylons that raised the cabin off the ground.

It wasn’t like the usually laid-back Lowe to be grumpy. Normally, the ash-blond bear took things as they came, rolling with whatever life threw at him without worrying too much. Saint blamed Knox’s mood. It was his brother’s agitation that had Lowe on edge too.

Lowe always got like this whenever Knox was fired up, felt a need to weigh in and have his twin’s back.

“I’ll go see what the deal is.” Saint turned away from them and murmured under his breath, “Just got to get through this crap first.”

He huffed and took the first step down from his deck, forced himself to keep going when the next one was hidden by snow. His pride needed him to do something, and he would do it. He would make the cougars shut up so he and his kin could get back to sleep, and when he woke, all the snow would be gone.

He held on to that fantasy, filling his mind with images of green grass and warm sunshine as he trudged down the steps. It shattered as he fumbled for the final step and slipped, had to grab the railing behind him and brace himself to avoid falling on his backside.

Saint growled as he pushed away from the steps and waded through the deep snow, heading for the forest that would lead him to Cougar Creek. He glared at the field of white as it sparkled, the weak sunlight reflecting off it enough to almost blind him. As it was, it made his eyes water again, and that moisture felt as if it was turning to ice in his eyes.

There was nothing magical about winter.

He huffed and snarled as he pushed forwards, ploughing a path through the snow. At least he wouldn’t get as cold and damp on the way back, after he was done murdering whoever had woken him and his kin.

If he somehow managed to rein in the urge to spill blood, maybe the fresh air and struggling through the snow would tire him out enough that he could sleep when he got back to his cabin.

He finally reached the dense forest, where most of the snow clung to the branches of the pines and firs, keeping the amount on the ground down to less than a foot. He picked his way through the fresh snow, careful not to snag his boot on a root or rock because falling flat on his face in the snow would probably be the match that lit the fuse of his temper.

Saint breathed a little easier as he reached an animal track, a path through the forest that had been kept clear of snow by the constant back and forth of the local ungulates. His muscles began to relax, the tension that had stiffened them during the walk through the icy snow fading as he picked up pace.

When he neared the invisible boundary between Cougar Creek and Black Ridge, he slowed and fell silent, his breathing levelling out as he moved with stealth into the trees, veering off the track. His ears twitched as he listened, the only sound that of distant birdsong and animals moving through the trees. No laughter. No voices.

His breath fogged in the air as he slipped from tree to tree, peering ahead of him through the trunks and low branches and the scrub, seeking a sign of life as he drew closer to Cougar Creek. His palms began to sweat as his heart drummed a faster, harder rhythm against his ribs, as he honed his senses and searched for danger, in case it was hunters who had come to the cougar territory and they were the ones laughing.

Overjoyed by capturing or killing a shifter.

He spat on the ground, cursing the hunters. They had taken too many from his kin.

Had taken too much from him.

He had barely matured, had only just passed a century old when the mortal hunter organisation Archangel had executed a raid on a nearby underground fae town. His parents had been there, had tried to escape and hadn’t made it out alive.

Last year, a helicopter had circled over Black Ridge, heading back to Cougar Creek, and Saint had heard the distant gunfire. Part of him had wanted to go and check it out, to see if Rath needed help.

The rest, the alpha in him, had made him stay at Black Ridge in case there were more hunters in the forests and his pride needed him.

He tipped his head up and dragged in a slow, deep breath as he pushed those memories aside, focusing on the present in case it was hunters. He couldn’t let himself get swept up in the past, had to stay alert and aware of his surroundings and any danger that might be lying in wait for him.

Saint scented the air, trying to catch something that would tell him what to expect ahead of him.

He froze, locked up tight as he caught a scent, as warmth spread through him in response, roused a hunger in him that was powerful and commanding.

He dragged in another breath, aching for another delectable hit of that scent. And it was delectable, like sweet berries, and utterly feminine.

Which was enough to set him on edge.

Females didn’t stay at Cougar Creek in winter.

Saint veered off course again, unable to stop himself from tracking the scent through the forest, curiosity gripping him and filling him with a need to find the owner of it. His mouth watered, the hunger clenching his gut growing fiercer as the scent grew stronger. Ahead of him, the bushes and trees gave way to man-made clearings, openings in the forest where small cabins had been constructed.

He huffed.

Cougar Creek.

He stealthily inspected the two cabins he could see, keeping his distance from them. Snow had fallen through the canopy of the forest and was thick on their roofs, and it was pristine on the decks, untouched. No one was staying in them.

Saint banked left, heading down towards the river, to a cabin he knew was there. The raised L-shaped wooden lodge sat at the head of a fifty-foot clearing in the forest, one that stretched down to the creek.

He remained in the shadows of the trees as he moved towards that river, giving the place a wide berth. He eyed the deck and the steps and the ground just beyond them. Someone had cleared the snow away. The place belonged to one of the three brothers of Rath, the alpha of the pride, and it was usually empty over winter.

Looked as if the male was staying this time.

Was he responsible for the ruckus that had woken Saint and his kin?

He sharpened his instincts again and frowned as he sensed more than just Rath and one brother at the Creek. He pinpointed at least five other people, most of them close to the main clearing. One of them was bound to be the female Rath had mated with last year, one Saint had seen for himself a few times.

He thought her name was Ivy, was sure he had heard the alpha cougar call her that a few times when she had been photographing bears near the river. The female was human, and not the only one at the Creek either.

The bastard Storm had a human female of his own. Saint had caught her in the woods last year when she had been running from the male and had scared her witless. He regretted what had happened now, but he had been in a foul mood, his bear at the fore. Their run-in had happened only a week after the Archangel helicopter had come and the need to protect his kin had been strong, fierce enough that he had viewed her as a threat.

Saint had figured Gabi for a huntress, still thought she was a member of Archangel and one day Storm was going to wake up to find a blade in his heart.

He backtracked up to the two empty cabins and headed past them into another area of dense scrub that provided cover as he moved towards the heart of Cougar Creek.

His ears twitched.

Voices.

He eased lower and peered through the bushes and trees towards the clearing. Stilled as he spotted two males and a female in an area that had been cleared of snow near the top of the long sloping strip of green that formed the centre of the cougar’s territory. The felines had been busy. It looked as if they had cleared snow in a patch roughly sixty feet in all directions from the front of Rath’s cabin. That cabin sat nestled among the pines and spruces, its back to the forest that covered the base of the mountain, facing the clearing and the creek at the bottom of it.

What were they up to?

Rath straightened and planted the tip of his snow shovel against the ground, leaned on the handle of it as he pushed his thick black hat up and wiped his brow. He pulled his dark green scarf down and undid the top fastening of his black winter jacket.

“We taking a break now?” the male with him growled, a hint of warmth and teasing in his tone as he set down his own shovel and tugged at the blue scarf wrapped around his throat. Like Rath, he wore a black protective coat and matching hat, and irritatingly kept his back to Saint so he couldn’t make out which brother he was. “Only been at it an hour. Still a lot more snow to clear.”

Rath huffed and scrubbed a hand down his face, over a thick dark beard. “Remind me again why we’re doing this.”

The big male chuckled, the warmth in his voice lingering. “Love, apparently. Not sure why I got pulled into shovelling duties though. Storm should be here, clearing the way for this ceremony. Where is he anyway?”

This time, Rath was the one who chuckled, his grey eyes brightening with it. “Where do you think?”

The male shook his head. “I have half a mind to go bang down his door, but I don’t want to get an eyeful. Flint could at least have offered to help, but he’s about as useful as Storm.”

Flint and Storm weren’t present then, which meant the big male with Rath was Cobalt. Cobalt was a mad bastard. Saint had never seen a cougar fight like he did, as if he had nothing left to live for.

Rath and Cobalt were as big as each other, packed with muscle and good fighters, but if it came to a one-on-one fight, Saint could take them. Provided they didn’t resort to low blows like their brother Flint.

He shuddered at the memory, his balls aching. It had taken him weeks to heal them after the male had run his claws over them during a brawl. He still hadn’t forgiven the cougar, wanted a piece of him, and Storm, for the scars they had given him. A low growl curled up his throat, his blood running hot despite the cold, and he wanted to unleash it but bit it back instead. As much as he wanted a fight, he wanted to sleep more.

Besides, he couldn’t let his foul mood get him into a brawl right now when his body was still recovering from a month-long sleep. He would probably lose and that would only make his mood worse.

Saint drew down a steadying breath and stilled as the delicious scent of berries hit him again. It was weaker now, but still warmed him, roused a hunger to hunt the owner of that scent and see her for himself.

The door of the cabin behind Rath opened and a female came out, wrapped so heavily in winter clothing that he couldn’t make out much of her face between her colourful striped scarf and woollen hat, or her figure through the thick cream coat and brown ski pants.

He knew her scent though.

Ivy.

In fact, he knew most of the scents of the females belonging to the brothers. He had put Gabi’s scent to memory when he had captured her, and he had done the same with Yasmin’s when Flint had come to Black Ridge looking for a fight in order to impress her.

Maybe he had imagined the sweet scent in the woods.

Berries were his vice after all.

He loved them and found them impossible to resist.

“Come warm up for a few minutes.” She looked at her mate and then at Cobalt.

Both males nodded and let their shovels fall into the thin layer of snow, and Rath waited for Cobalt to reach him before they both started towards the cabin.

“Does Ember want to drop in for a warming drink too?” Ivy said with a look at Cobalt.

Ember. Saint wasn’t familiar with that female.

“She went for a walk.” Cobalt tugged his black hat off, revealing mussed blond hair. “But she’ll be back in time for the practice run.”

Rath glanced at his brother. “Did your certificate come through?”

“Yup. I’m officially ordained.” Cobalt flashed a grin at him and chuckled. “That’s not something I ever thought I would be. Not many cougars out there needing this sort of thing.”

Saint watched them go inside, debated going to the cabin and speaking to Rath, but fatigue was rolling up on him, his eyelids feeling heavy again as the fresh air lost its effect on him and his bear instincts growled at him to go back to sleep. He knew what the noise was now. It wasn’t humans or danger, just a bunch of irritating cougars celebrating something. That should be enough to calm the instinct to protect himself and his pride, and allow all of them to get back to sleep.

He rose to his feet and turned away from the cabin, picked his way to the animal track and followed it back towards the Ridge. Maybe he would fix himself some food before he hit the sack again, something to take the edge off his hunger and tide him over while he slept. He was clearly hungry.

Because he was fantasising about sweet juicy summer berries again.

Could smell them stronger now.

He frowned and slowed his pace, lifted his head and drew down a breath. The scent was stronger. His mouth watered, heat suffusing him, and he pivoted on his heel, was tracking the smell of berries before he realised what he was doing.

Saint dropped to his haunches when he spotted a lone figure ahead of him, near the frozen river.

A female.

He dragged down a breath, every inch of him locking up tight as he caught her scent.

Sweet berries and a hint of vanilla.

He scented something else on her too. She was cougar. Was she Ember? Did she belong to Cobalt?

Saint told himself to go, but found himself easing lower instead to observe her. Silent. A predator.

She tilted her head up as she turned, raised her gloved hand to cover her eyes as she peered at the canopy. Birds sang there but he paid them no heed, was too arrested by the sight of her.

Raven hair spilled from beneath her dark purple woollen hat, cascading over a form-fitting weatherproof coat in the same colour, and grey eyes with a strong hint of emerald sparkled as rosy lips curled into the semblance of a smile.

His heart started at a hard pace, drumming against his ribs as his blood heated.

She was beautiful.

A need to stand and go to her pounded inside him and he struggled to deny it, to remain where he was and merely observe her, studying everything about her. Like the fact she had to stand at least a foot shorter than his six-seven, and looked as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. There was a delicate sense of beauty about her, with her porcelain skin and the hint of pink on her cheeks, and he lost himself in watching her, the world around him fading away.

Until there was only her.

Her slender shoulders suddenly stiffened, her smile disappearing as she tensed and went still.

She had sensed him.

Saint lingered, wondering what she would do. Run away or stay?

Seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity as he waited, as her grey-green eyes slowly took in the forest.

Strange disappointment flooded him when she suddenly turned on her heel and walked in the direction of Cougar Creek, her pace brisk, boots chewing up the frozen ground beneath the pines.

Saint stared after her.

Driven to follow.



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Book 1: Stolen by her Bear
Book 2: Rescued by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 3: Saved by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 4: Unleashed by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 5: Awakened by her Bear – Pre-order Now







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:

Wednesday, 23 June 2021

Book Tour and Giveaway: Thanatos (Guardians of Hades Book 8) 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, Thanatos, the latest release in her popular Guardians of Hades Series.

This is book 8 in this series, but don’t worry, you can dive right on in with Thanatos, or start at the very beginning with Ares, which is FREE at all retailers right now. Binge-read to your heart’s content!

If you love passionate paranormal romance featuring hot alpha heroes and strong heroines bringing them to their knees, new twists on old myths, and lush, detailed words, 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!




Thanatos, god of death, has a mission: scour the unknown realms of the Underworld and retrieve the only daughter of his god-king, Hades. Murdered six centuries ago and her soul captured before it could pass on, she now falls under Thanatos’s domain. Armed with only a description of the location of her prison seen in a vision by her oldest brother, Thanatos has spent four years hunting for her, determined to complete his task and save her.

But when he locates Calindria, she’s not the delicate little girl he remembers—she’s a fierce, bewitching and beautiful warrioress who stirs unwanted feelings in his black heart and she’s on a mission of her own.

Calindria, daughter of Hades, has a mission: escape her prison, hunt down the ones who murdered her twin brother, and then make her family pay for abandoning her. But the Fates have other plans, placing a distractingly gorgeous god of death in her path—a warrior who is determined to convince her that what she believed is the truth is in fact a lie.

In a realm that turns memories against them and where anything can be an illusion, can Calindria and Thanatos learn to trust each other enough to work together to escape the hellish domain, or will the darkest moments of their past prove too powerful to overcome?








Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win a signed paperback of your choice from my backlist of available titles plus awesome book swag! This giveaway is international and open to everyone, and ends at midnight on June 27th. Enter now: https://kingsumo.com/g/vvgksb/thanatos-book-tour-grand-giveaway






Thanatos ducked beneath a dip in the roof of the tunnel, bracing his hand against the onyx rock as he worked his way downwards, watching his footing. He grimaced, lips pulling taut as the tops of his black wings knocked against the rough ceiling and caught on the protrusion of rock. He ducked lower, almost on his backside, and hunched forwards, easing his wings past the obstruction.

Maybe continuing along this path had been a mistake.

He probably should have turned back the moment the tunnel had started to narrow, picking another route to explore and chart in his mind.

Behind him, something chittered, as if mocking him.

He huffed and gripped the wall, fingers tight in the holds he found as he carefully navigated the steep slope. He hoped to the gods it opened out again soon and didn’t get any narrower. Fitting his seven-foot-two frame into small spaces was difficult enough at the best of times, but this was beginning to move past difficult into impossible territory.

A little like his mission.

Four years of searching and he had nothing to show for it, and his god-king, Hades, was growing impatient. Thanatos had charted realm after realm at the very edges of the Underworld, places beyond the sight of his god-king, seeking the one where Hades’s only daughter was being held.

With only a description of what Hades’s oldest son had seen in the memories of another to go on.

Thanatos raked his free hand through his damp onyx hair and exhaled hard.

He was beginning to doubt those memories, but every meeting he had with Hades and his sons had him coming away with a renewed sense of determination to complete the mission Hades had entrusted him with and find Calindria.

It wasn’t only the thought of pleasing his god-king that had him scouring uncharted lands day after day without a break though, refusing to admit defeat.

It was the toll he could see those days were taking on his god-queen, Persephone. Now that they knew Calindria’s soul had form, the gentle goddess needed her daughter back, a child she had mourned for almost six centuries.

A girl who had been ruthlessly murdered in front of her twin, Calistos.

His king and queen had believed her soul lost forever when it hadn’t passed through the veil to reach Hades for judgement. Now, they had entrusted him with her rescue, and he would do all in his power to bring her back to them.

Because she fell under his domain.

As god of death, it was his duty to reap the souls of the dying when their allotted time in this world ended, only he had never been summoned to separate Calindria’s soul from her body, as he should have been, and her soul had never passed on to Hades. Thanatos pondered that, for what he was sure was the millionth time, as the path levelled out and the tunnel thankfully widened. If she was dead, lingering in the place between worlds where he ruled, he should be able to feel her as he could others who moved through the veil.

Only he couldn’t.

He had tried. He had tried so many times and in all the ways he could think of to get a fix on her location, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t feel her.

The tunnel opened out into a cavern with a jagged ceiling only thirty feet above him that dipped lower in places, great pillars of rock joining it to the uneven ground. He kept a wary eye on the shadows as things moved in them, chittering to each other, wanting to avoid another encounter with some of the local wildlife. The largest bats in the mortal world had nothing on the leather-winged black beasts that called the stretches of tunnels and the caverns home. These fell creatures resembled gargoyles the mortals had once adorned their buildings with, with snub upturned noses and pointed ears, and claws as long as their fangs, and a dragon-like tail.

The first time Thanatos had encountered them, he had accidentally disturbed a large nest of them, and they had descended on him as one, ripping at his feathers and clawing his bare arms and chest. They had forced him to retreat and return to his castle to heal.

Something he had to do on foot or wing since there was a strange power over this wild land, one that stopped him from teleporting.

That power had strengthened his feeling that he was on the right track at last. It blanketed the entire realm, hindering him by not only stopping him from teleporting in and out but by dampening his senses too. He could feel things if he focused, but it was as if there was some kind of interference.

It made him feel that Calindria was here and the reason he couldn’t feel her was because of that interference. This realm shielded her somehow, making it impossible for him to sense her.

A power that didn’t seem natural to him.

Someone had taken great pains to ensure no one found Calindria. The one who had taken her or one among the enemy he had fought alongside the sons of Hades four years ago? That enemy had contained not only those of the daemon breeds, but demigods, gods and goddesses too.

A rebellion Hades’s sons had crushed, restoring peace in the Underworld.

Thanatos meandered around sharp spikes of black rock that jutted from the floor, his gaze scanning the route ahead of him, looking for an exit. Water dripped somewhere, the sound echoing around the cavern, punctuating his thoughts. Whoever had killed Calindria and had taken her soul had hidden it well, the method they had used to conceal it carrying on after their death.

If they were dead.

When Thanatos had raised that thought with Hades, his god-king had grown dark and had immediately left the palace, teleporting to Tartarus where he was holding Eris, Thanatos’s younger sister.

And the ringleader of the enemy that had risen up against Hades and attempted to bring about not only his downfall but that of the Underworld and mortal realm too.

Disgust rolled through Thanatos, as strongly as it had the night he had realised she had turned against their god-king, together with another two of his sisters and his youngest brother. His mother, Nyx, was still furious about what had happened, wanted blood and regularly visited Eris in Tartarus to sneer at her and threaten her.

So far, neither Nyx nor Hades had managed to convince Eris to tell them something other than the same denial she spewed whenever they tortured her. She just kept swearing she knew nothing about Calindria and what had happened to her.

Thanatos wasn’t buying it.

He spied three exits in total and picked the largest of the tunnels, the one set into the cragged wall of the cavern dangerously close to a pool of water. He lowered his hand to the hilt of his sword where it hung from his waist, attached to his thick leather trousers, and warily stalked towards the tunnel, keeping an eye on the water.

Wishing he had worn more of his obsidian armour than just the heavy vambraces that protected his forearms.

He had forgone the armour that he normally wore on his lower half. The thick plates offered protection but slowed him down and made it more difficult to move through the narrow tunnels or clamber into holes. He had decided to leave them in his castle for this trip when he had discovered the warren of tunnels in the heart of this vast mountain range were narrower than those in the last set of peaks that rose high into the smoky air of this realm.

Something moved in the water and his fingers tensed around the grip of his sword, ready to draw and swing it in the space of a heartbeat if necessary. Great serpents lived in the pools in many of the caverns, waiting for a creature to approach and drink the life-giving water. One had nearly taken his head off. Since then, he had avoided all the pools.

Thanatos eased around this one, facing it at all times, and was quick to duck into the tunnel. It was narrower than it had looked from a distance, but still large enough to accommodate him and his wings. He shook them out and furled them again, tried to ignore the itch to stretch them and fly. The next time he found a cavern that was large enough, and was lacking occupants, he would do a few laps around it to stretch his wings.

Ahead of him, in the gloom, creatures skittered and scurried away from him. He eased his head left and lowered his wings, edging around a dip in the ceiling. He was beginning to miss the world outside this mountain, even though it was as grim out there as it was in here. Perhaps more so.

The valleys of these mountains were great black lands, some riddled with crevasses cut by waterfalls that thundered into them, and others filled with dead-looking trees, and then there was his personal favourite.

A valley that had been infested with spires of jagged black rock with holes in it. The things that lived within the three-, four-, even five-hundred-foot-tall towers had not liked him being in their territory. Like the gargoyles, they had chased him from the valley, the veins of crimson that formed patterns on their black carapaces glowing like lava as they had scuttled after him on four bony legs, snapping at him with their pincers.

Thanatos was beginning to get the impression everything in this realm hated him.

Perhaps if he didn’t find Calindria, he would kill everything in it. Eradicate all life to make it easier for Hades’s legions to tame these wild lands steeped in ancient powers and bring them under his god-king’s control. He drifted in that pleasing imagery for a while, mentally getting revenge on the foul creatures who had tried to maim and murder him on far too many occasions.

Thanatos stilled as awareness rolled down his spine, making his wings quiver. Something was watching him. He’d had the same feeling several times now during his travels and was beginning to get the impression that someone and not something was following him.

The Messenger.

Thanatos had encountered the black-haired male in another realm, one close to this one, and had thought Hades had sent his servant to relay something to him. Only he had startled the male when he had questioned him, asking what he was doing in an uninhabited realm if he wasn’t there to deliver a message from Hades.

The Messenger’s mismatched eyes—one green and one blue—had widened and then narrowed, had shone with fire when he had delivered a message of his own.

He didn’t serve Hades.

When Thanatos had brought up the male in his report to Hades, two of his god-king’s sons, Marek and Esher, had exchanged a look. Hades had noticed it and demanded answers.

Apparently, they believed they had met the same Messenger in the mortal realm.

There, the male had told them he was looking for Calindria.

“If I cross paths with him again, perhaps I will ask him to assist me,” Thanatos grumbled as he eased around another jagged spike of rock that blocked his path. “He can run the tunnels like the hound he is.”

Thanatos had never liked Messengers. The clones were creepy with the way they would silently appear close to him, and they had no boundaries, were always teleporting into his castle without invitation, bypassing all his wards. Hades had given them too many powers when he had created them.

Something which had proven dangerous during the rebellion, when several Messengers had sided with the enemy and revealed something that had unsettled even Hades.

Some of them had developed the ability to feel emotion.

Thanatos had witnessed it for himself in the Messenger he had encountered, the one who was looking for Calindria. The male hid it well, but Thanatos had seen the glimmer of emotions in his eyes when he had questioned him, had noticed it in the slight twist of his lips or twitch of his eyebrows.

Hadn’t been able to miss it when the male had snarled at him that he didn’t serve Hades.

Hades was going to have to deal with his creations. Servants with emotions and so much power were dangerous. At the very least, his god-king needed to cull those who exhibited feelings and ensure future Messengers were subjected to stringent tests and given less power.

Perhaps his god-king could fashion them to be more like Thanatos’s servants—loyal, emotionless, powerless. His staff existed to serve him and carried out their duties without question.

Ahead of him, the tunnel opened up again, rapidly doubling in width. He straightened and pressed his hand into his back, arched it and sighed as something popped. He drew down a deep breath and frowned as he swore he caught the scent of a fire. Not the wretched, almost sulphuric smell of the volcanoes that dotted this realm, but the smell of wood burning.

He quickened his pace, his hand falling to his sword again, his black eyebrows pinching together as he strode into the gloom. It grew brighter as he neared the end of the tunnel and his step faltered.

He recognised this place.

His eyes darted around, taking in the stalactite laden ceiling of the enormous cavern, and his steps slowed further as he approached the edge of the broad ledge that jutted out high above the ground on one side of it.

Thanatos drew to a halt near the edge of it, staring at the rusty oval cages suspended from the jagged cavern roof by thick chains.

This was it.

This was what Keras had seen.

His heart beat harder at the thought he was close now, would be able to fulfil his mission for his god-king and would be well rewarded for it.

Thanatos spread his black feathered wings and kicked off, sweeping down into the cavern. He circled the huge dome-shaped space, weaving around spires of rock. His eyes narrowed on each cage he passed. Some were empty. Others contained remains.

None held Calindria.

Or did they?

He hovered before one cage that contained bones and held his hand out, drew down a deep breath and closed his eyes. Images flickered before him, revealing a female but this one a brunette. Not the one he was looking for.

Calindria had golden hair and blue eyes, had been a bright and bubbly little thing when he had last seen her, hanging on the tails of Calistos. She had always hidden behind her twin or her father whenever Thanatos had visited, shyly peeking out at him, ducking back into cover whenever he had looked her way.

He flew to another cage and repeated the process, hoping the rotting corpse wasn’t her. It wasn’t.

Thanatos looked around the cavern, unable to imagine the delicate female in this place, unable to believe she had somehow survived being held here as her brother had said she had. Unsettled by how Keras swore she had felt pain when someone had attacked her with a spear.

Something about that felt wrong.

The dead felt no pain.

Thanatos checked the remaining cages, and even the bones that littered the floor, but none of them were the bright-eyed daughter of Hades. He landed and furled his wings against his bare back, strode towards the scent of wood fire and investigated the camp. It was well lived in, with ancient animal bones piled in one corner together with old blankets and discarded rotting bedding. Around the fire, the bedding was fresh and almost new.

He found evidence of two or possibly three people. Guards for those in the cages? Their tormenters?

Thanatos walked around the wall of rock that shielded the guards’ quarters from the cages and frowned up at them. Where had the guards gone? The fire was still going, but he sensed no life here.

His gaze fell and he frowned as it landed on a cage on its side. He canted his head as he strode to it, as he stooped and touched a dark patch on the ground. Damp. Someone had been in this cage recently.

He stood swiftly. Had it been Calindria? Perhaps they had moved her. He did another sweep of the cavern, searching for more clues, and backtracked when his gaze caught on something. Frowned. He kicked off, beating his wings, swiftly crossing the span of gritty dirt.

Thanatos landed soundlessly, his frown deepening as the turbulence caused by his wings destroyed what he had come to look at before he could investigate it. The two bodies crumbled to ash, swirled and scattered on the breeze. Whoever they had been, they had both been large males. He eyed the spear that lay on the ground near one of them. Guards.

He crouched and held his hand over the ashes, but saw nothing.

Strange.

He looked back at the cage that rested on its side and then at the black ashes again. Had someone killed the guards and made off with Calindria? If they had, they couldn’t have gotten far.

Thanatos spread his wings and beat them, did a lap of the cavern and found only three exits. He checked the opening of each of them, using his senses to see if anyone had entered them recently. The realm dulled them too much for him to make anything out.

He huffed and looked at the ground, a thousand thoughts crowding his mind as he tried to figure out what to do. Which tunnel to pick?

Thanatos tilted his head to one side, his eyes narrowing on the ground as he spotted something. He walked to it, eased into a crouch and ghosted his fingers over the scuff mark in the dirt, looked around and stilled. Further inside the tunnel was another, only this one had a distinct shape.

A footprint.

It was small, dainty.

Bare.

Feminine.

And the only ones he could see. No one had made off with Calindria, if she had been the one in the cage. She had made off with herself. Had something killed the guards when they had been doing something with her, allowing her to escape?

He rose to his feet and strode into the tunnel, moving as quickly as he could, his senses reaching out around him as he desperately sought a sign of life—a sign this was the right way.

The tunnel opened out again ahead of him and his heart drummed harder against his ribs as he spotted more footprints. This had to be the right way. He drew down a deep breath to focus his senses, honing them in the hope he would be able to sense the owner of those footprints.

Froze as he realised he wasn’t alone.

A female dressed in very little stood in the middle of the cavern with her side to him, gulping water from a dark pouch.

She froze too, her dirty shoulders locking up tightly, her fingers clutching the waterskin. She lowered it from her lips and turned slightly, her matted, filthy blonde hair that reached the small of her back swaying as she came to face him.

As her wide, luminous blue eyes landed on him.

“Calindria,” he breathed, sure it was her, only she was not a little girl as some foolish part of him had expected.

She pressed the pouch to the swell of her chest and stared at him like a prey animal facing a predator, her eyes taking on a wild and almost feral edge.

Thanatos slowly lifted his hands, hoping to calm her.

She broke into a dead run.





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Book 1: Ares
Book 2: Valen
Book 3: Esher
Book 4: Marek
Book 5: Calistos
Book 6: Daimon
Book 7: Keras
Book 8: Thanatos
Book 9: Hades – Coming Soon







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:

Thursday, 22 April 2021

Blog Tour & Giveaway: Scorched by Darkness (Eternal Mates Book 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 cliffhangers because there’s nothing worse than a cliffhanger!

 




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!

 




Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win one of a $75, $50 or $25 Amazon Gift Card at the Scorched by Darkness book page. This giveaway is international and open to everyone and ends at midnight on May 2nd. Enter now: http://www.felicityheaton.com/scorched-by-darkness-paranormal-romance-novel.php




 

The clock in the grey stone tower to his right continued to chime the hour.

Midnight.

The hundreds of fae, witches, demons and other species crammed into the large square of the underground town swayed, hugged and sung together in a discordant melody that grated in Hartt’s ears as he stood unmoving, the only still thing in a churning sea.

But inside him, it was a different matter.

His stomach twisted and his mind spun, thoughts colliding and breaking apart, emotions threatening to unravel the tentative hold he had on the darkness. It lurked, waiting in the deepest recesses of his soul, a creeping and malevolent thing that hunted for a weakness in him, the tiniest fissure in his will that it could slip its claws into and rip wide open.

He lifted his left hand and absently rubbed the spot over his sternum as acid filled the scraped out and raw abyss where his heart should have been.

He had been a fool again.

Hartt tried not to think about it as he stood there in the square, his back to one of the towering three-storey grey stone buildings that enclosed it on all sides. He tried not to think about her.

Or the death wish he had.

He must have one since he had just come close to stepping into Underworld, a nightclub in London, to speak with his ex. If he could call her an ex. Iolanthe had stood him up on their wedding day, had left him waiting at the grand celebration his family had put together.

Looking like a fool.

The rubbing grew harder as the empty pit ached, his heart attempting to resurrect itself. The temptation to call on his armour was strong. It would only take a simple mental command to the black and silver bands that encircled his wrists and the onyx scales would ripple over his body, transforming his fingers into talons that could easily slice through bone and remove the damned broken thing that passed for his heart, freeing him of its constant torment.

He had been free.

For centuries, he hadn’t thought about her. He had moved on with his life, had stepped off the route that had been laid before him by their parents and trod his own path in the world.

And he had been happy.

He had a friend who was like a brother to him, had founded an assassin guild that had a fearsome reputation and was undeniably the best one in Hell, and he had more coin than he could ever need. He wasn’t short on females either. If the mood struck him, he only had to take a walk through the town that had sprung up around his guild and take his pick of the females who lived in it.

He had been happy.

And then Harbin, a snow leopard shifter who was more like a friend than an employee, had done something reckless in the mortal realm.

And his world had collided with Iolanthe’s again.

And all the godsdamned feelings Hartt had thought long dead had come flooding back.

So, like the fool he was, he had gone to see her tonight, well aware that if her jaguar shifter mate so much as smelled him nearby, he was a dead man.

Worse, he had brought his family’s ring with him.

One she should have worn on her finger.

Hartt raised his hand and scrubbed it down his face, somehow held back a groan as he closed his eyes and shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him?

He blamed Fuery. His brother-not-by-blood was settling into his new life with his fated female, Shaia, a happy ending that the elf deserved after everything he had been through. Not only that, but Harbin was happily mated too. Seeing the two of them with their females was screwing with his head, rousing desires he should have forgotten.

He blamed Iolanthe too. The shock of seeing her again after all these centuries must have jolted something loose.

“She means nothing to me,” Hartt muttered as the people around him swayed and came close to jostling him too.

The square was far too packed. It felt as if every person living in the fae town that occupied a cavern beneath a mountain in the highlands of Scotland was out tonight, crammed into the small heart of it to celebrate the dawning of a new year.

Someone tried to grab him, leaning close to him, and he flashed fangs and snarled as he rolled his right shoulder and shirked them. The big shifter of undetermined species, although he smelled like a wet dog, grunted and shrugged, and grabbed one of the witches instead. She squealed in delight as he lifted her and spun, her petite booted feet coming up and almost clocking Hartt in the face.

He huffed and leaned back to avoid being struck, and the darkness writhed in response to the switch in his emotions. If it had been a living being, it would have smirked. Sometimes, it felt as if it was alive and had a will of its own.

Sometimes, he couldn’t control it, failed to contain it.

Bad things happened then.

Hartt sidestepped and peered at the crowd, forcing his mind back on track. The mission. The reason he had come to this fae town near Fort William.

The intel he had gathered pointed towards his mark being here tonight, somewhere in this dense throng of revellers. While he couldn’t imagine his target celebrating the new year, let alone being anywhere near a crowd of this size, following up the lead seemed like a good way of distracting himself.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth again.

Gods, he needed a distraction.

Taking on this contract was keeping him busy, but at a cost. Fuery wasn’t happy about it. His friend had been on his case about rolling solo on a mission since day one, didn’t care that the client had stipulated that he had to work alone on it.

And that it had to be him who took it on.

Fuery preferred him away from the frontlines, as far from danger as he could get, and while Hartt usually indulged him because he didn’t want Fuery to suffer, he couldn’t do it this time. He needed some action. He needed some space, some time away from the guild. He just needed a moment to breathe.

A distraction.

His gaze hopped over the heads of the gathered males and females, cataloguing them all, discerning their species whenever he could from a distance. The demons were easy to pick out from the crowd with their horns that flared from behind the tops of their pointed ears and the fact they stood a head taller than most of the crowd, as he did. The witches were equally as easy to identify for the most part thanks to their gender—mainly female—and the colourful and interesting fashion they wore.

Neither species were of interest to him.

He kept searching, picking out the vampires he could easily spot, studying them to see if they reacted to anyone else nearby, someone unseen by him. They were all too interested in eyeing up potential prey among the gathered, their crimson eyes following females or males that were clearly inebriated. Easy pickings.

His mark was here somewhere.

Hartt moved again, wove through the people and headed towards a set of broad grey stone steps that led up to a raised walkway that ran around three sides of the square. A better vantage point.

He stopped near the top step and his gaze caught on something on the other side of the square.

A distraction.

Her flame-red hair tumbled around slight shoulders in soft waves as she peered at the crowd. The dark makeup that surrounded her eyes and streaked across her temples made her honey-coloured eyes look stunningly bright as they sought something. Burgundy leather hugged long lean legs and a curvy waist, cupped breasts that had many males staring. She paid them no heed as she frowned at the gathered, a mulish or possibly dissatisfied twist to her red lips.

Hartt studied her in silence, still amidst the crowd as they pushed their way down the stairs behind him, as if his boots were rooted to the stone.

She was unmoving too, her amber gaze serenely taking in her surroundings, charting everything.

His black eyebrows pinched hard as she was forced to take a step back and then turned, drifting down into the crowd in the middle of a group of demons. He canted his head, curious now as he tracked her through the crowd, as she emerged from the trio of demons and left them behind. She slipped through a gaggle of witches and twittering succubi and stopped at the far end of the square, closer to the clock tower.

The crowd was thicker there, stealing her from view.

He growled as he lost sight of her as a large group of males pushed their way deeper into the busy square from the avenue that led to the northern section of the town. Shifters of some sort if he had to guess. They jostled and jabbed at each other, grinned and whistled at several females, gaining scowls from some and sultry smiles and interested looks from others.

Hartt focused and teleported, landing on one of the roofs of the tall dark grey stone buildings. The tight feeling in his breast loosened as he spotted the redhead again, and he didn’t try to decipher the reason why he had felt compelled to keep track of her, why he had felt a strange, almost desperate need to see her again.

He didn’t need to.

Every instinct he possessed told him there was something off about her.

Something wrong.

At first, he had thought she was simply looking for someone she knew, or perhaps she had lost her friends in the busy crowd.

Now, as he eased into a crouch at the edge of the pitched slate roof, he knew better.

His lips quirked into a half-smile.

She had been looking at everyone but him.

Diligently keeping those bright honey-coloured eyes away from him as she had scanned the crowd.

Eyes that now leaped to and locked onto the spot where he had been on the walkway.

A little frown creased her brow as she stared at it, and then her gaze was moving, roving over the crowd as that scowl intensified. Seeking him. He moved a foot to his right, pressed his side to the smoking chimney and peered around it, using it as cover as he observed her.

If he had to guess, he would say she was a fellow assassin.

He realised something else as she looked off to her right and her eyes remained fixed there, tracking something off to his left, at the opposite end of the square to the clock tower.

Hartt looked there too and cursed as he spotted what she had.

She was after the same mark as him.

His violet gaze leaped back to her, and something in the region of his stomach sank slowly towards his boots even as fire ignited in his veins. He had the terrible feeling that taking on this contract had been both a good and a terrible idea.

She was a beautiful distraction.

But he was going to have to kill her.







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






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: