Monday 30 November 2020

Book Release Blitz: Keras (Guardians of Hades series Book 7) by Felicity Heaton @FelicityHeaton

New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton has just released KERAS, the latest paranormal romance 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! 

by Felicity Heaton

Keras is darkness. It sustains him. It strengthens him. It offers relief from the pain born of his feelings for a goddess of Olympus, a bewitching and beautiful female placed beyond his reach—one who stole his heart and broke it. Centuries of enduring that pain have left him tired, and the temptation to surrender control to that side of himself grows each day. 

Even when he knows that darkness will destroy him. 

Enyo has regrets. Hundreds of them. But the one that has plagued her for centuries, is the moment that shattered her friendship with the firstborn of Hades and her own heart with it—a moment that changed her and set her on a new path. With the battle between the sons of Hades and the daemons turning more dangerous for the man she loves, she can no longer stand on the sidelines. 

It’s time for this goddess of war to risk everything to fight for what she wants. 

As the battle to save the Underworld and the mortal realm rages to dangerous new heights, will Keras be consumed by the darkness or will Enyo be the light that saves him? 


Enyo smoothed her black breastplate, fingers rubbing over the point where it met her waist, flowing down to the strips of onyx leather that encircled her hips. She repeated the process over and over again as she peered at herself in the mirror. The bright sunlight that streamed in through the windows on the left and right of her bedroom reflected off the silver metalwork on her armour. 

Her senses stretched around her, sharpening to keep track of her brother. He remained at a distance, which was helping to keep her nerves in check, but did nothing to help her vanquish them completely. 

The thought of what she was about to do kept them at a constant simmer inside her, had her smoothing her armour again. She twisted away from the mirror, pacing across the marble floor, her boots loud in the heavy silence that shrouded her. She struggled with her fear, battled it violently, refusing to let it get the better of her. She was a goddess of war, born for battle, shouldn’t be afraid of what she was about to do. 

She kept telling herself that again and again, but it wouldn’t sink in. 

Enyo paced back across her bedroom, each swift stride carrying her rapidly from one wall of the pale room to the other. She stilled when she sensed someone outside in the corridor, her focus narrowing on them as she waited. They moved on and she breathed a little easier when she realised it was only one of her brother’s aides. 

This was foolish of her. If her brother discovered what she was about to do, or found out after she had gone through with it, he would be furious with her. She had vowed not to interfere with the war erupting in the Underworld, but she couldn’t stand by any longer, allowing the sons of Hades to fight alone. 

She needed to be there, needed to help them. 

Needed to help him. 

Enyo strode back to the mirror, untied her hair and raked her fingers through it, smoothing the long black strands. Was it better down? She canted her head left and right, unable to decide. It was better down. No. It was better up. It looked more professional, would give a better impression, and make it clear she was only there to offer help. 

Even when she wasn’t. 

She pulled her hair back and twisted it into a bun, fastening it with silver clasps. Much better. 

Her stomach flipped, and not for the first time. It had been constantly turning since she had made her decision. She would leave Olympus. She would go against her brother’s wishes. She had to. 

So why was she still here? 

Why couldn’t she find the courage to face him? 

Enyo blew out her breath, seeking the resolve she had felt when she had spoken with Marek. 

She needed to do this. She needed to see Keras again. 

She needed to face him. 

She was a goddess of war, not a weak little maiden. 

But the thought of facing Keras was more terrifying than the thought of entering a battle where it was only her against ten thousand powerful enemies. 

She pivoted away from the mirror, crossed the room to her wardrobes and rifled through her dresses. She stopped herself. Looked down at her armour. She looked fine in it. She was just delaying things now. 

Enyo drew down another deep breath and summoned the power to teleport before her nerve failed her again. 

Light whirled around her, and when it dissipated, she was standing on the zinc roof of a Parisian townhouse. 

She stared across the road at the building opposite her, all of her focus on it, her nerves rising faster now. 

Keras was in there. 

She could feel his power, and gods, it was a sweet comfort and a torment at the same time. How long had it been since she had felt this? How long had it been since she had seen him? 

She slowly eased into a crouch, planting one hand between her spread knees for balance. The night air was cool around her, heavy with the scent of rain. In the distance, thunder rumbled. 

Enyo lingered, eyes fixed on the warmly lit windows of the pale townhouse opposite her, heart thudding against her chest. 

That heart shot into her throat when a black shadow moved across one of the windows to the right of the building, drawing her gaze there. 


She swallowed to wet her dry mouth as she watched him move around the room. A trickle of excitement ran through her blood, an urge to move closer so she could see him more clearly filling her. She wanted a better look at him, not these stolen moments where she couldn’t see all of him. She wanted to see if he was as she remembered him. 

But still, she hesitated. 

Her mind filled with when they were last together, and she cursed her own weakness. 

Keras wouldn’t want to see her, and she could understand that. She despised how she had acted then, how weak she had been, allowing her brother to manipulate her and use that weakness against her. 

He had taken her fear, all of her doubts, and moulded them into a weapon. 

And she had been blind to it. 

She had believed him when he had told her that Hades would never approve of the match, that he would expect more for his firstborn son than her. 

Hearing that had stung her, not only because she had believed she could be with Keras but because it made her realise that her brother thought she wasn’t worthy of someone like him. It had shown her how little he thought of her. 

Looking back now, she could see why he had done it. 

Marrying Keras would not only have reflected badly on her brother Ares because he had promised her to another, but she would have been elevated in society and may have even surpassed him in standing and power. Her eyes were open now. She had learned over the last two centuries that her brother was an egotistical bastard, lived to constantly hold her back so she couldn’t surpass him. 

He had trampled her feelings to keep her in her place. 

She should have known that the moment he had confronted her two centuries ago, should have seen the reason why he had done it, why he had chosen to confront her the second he had noticed she was spending a lot of time with Keras and the two of them had been growing close. 

Gods, she had been so defensive in response and had denied feeling something for Keras, and that was something she had come to regret. Her weakness had plagued her these last two hundred years. 

She should have stood up to her brother. 

She shouldn’t have let him walk all over her like that. 

It had taken her far too many centuries to reach this breaking point, but she was going to step over that line her brother Ares had drawn, was going to defy him and do what her heart desired for once. 

That heart ached as Keras moved to the next room, briefly disappearing before he appeared beyond an elegant couch. He kept walking, concealed by another wall for a hard beat of her heart before he emerged. He opened cupboards and withdrew some things, set them down before him and stood with his back to the window—to her—obscuring her view of the items. 

What was he doing? 

Preparing a meal? 

A smile wound its way onto her lips as she recalled a moment with him, one shortly after he had moved into his own home on the grounds of the main palace in the Underworld. 

He had confessed he found the thought of learning to cook appealing. 

She had teased him often about that in the years that had followed, and always he had grumbled about how his parents insisted that the household staff took care of that sort of thing for him. 

His parents were as old-world as her brother, believed that cooking and cleaning were the domain of servants, not the gods who ruled the lands of the Underworld and Olympus. 

Enyo had tried to cook once, had been wandering the shores of Olympus near to the port and had found herself on rocks that jutted out into the crystal-clear water. Fish had been swimming around below her, and she had watched them for a while before realising that she wasn’t alone. 

Two men had been fishing further along the shore, and she had approached them, had been curious about what they were doing. They had kindly answered her questions and made an offering of fish to her. 

She had attempted to cook it on their open fire, much to their amusement. 

Apparently, it was better to remove the guts first. 

A lesson that she still remembered now, together with how she had made the two men laugh by mentioning how removing guts was a speciality of hers. 

Enyo let those memories fade away and focused back on the present, on the dark god in the building opposite her as he stood with his back to her, still in the same place she had left him when her mind had wandered. 

She was putting things off. She knew it deep in her heart. The memories she conjured were a distraction, a way of lingering where she was, avoiding facing him. 

She pulled down an unsteady breath and blew it out, steeling herself. 

“Be brave,” she murmured softly and rose to her feet. 

She clenched her fists at her sides, and then flexed her fingers, called to mind all the times she had gone to battle. Countless wars. She had fought in thousands of them with her brother and sometimes alone. This was no different to them, and no more frightening. 

It was though. 

It was infinitely more terrifying. 

She hadn’t seen Keras since he had been banished to this world. 

Since she had told him that she was betrothed to another. 

She stared at Keras’s back, aching with the need to go to him, to look into his eyes and read his feelings in them as she used to. 

Had he ever had feelings for her beyond friendship? 

He had closely guarded his heart when she had known him, had never given her a clear indication that he felt the same way as she did. Maybe if he had, she would have found the courage to defy her brother two hundred years ago. 

She pushed those thoughts aside, aware that they weren’t helping her and that there was no point in thinking about how things might have been. She couldn’t change the past. 

She could only shape the future. 

Starting right here, right now. 

By speaking with him again. 

Would he remember her? 

Marek said that he did, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to place what little faith she had in the words he had offered her. She feared that Marek was wrong and that if Keras had ever felt something for her, those feelings either no longer existed or no longer matched hers. 

“Focus on why you are here,” she muttered, using it to bolster her courage. “You came to give him information.” 

A sound plan. 

One she had put into motion upon hearing from her brother that Nemesis had betrayed Hades. 

Enyo had done a little digging, as Marek called it, and had heard many rumours about Nemesis. 

She sucked down another breath and held it as she teleported, appearing in a swirl of white-blue smoke in the kitchen of Keras’s home. 

Only a few feet behind him. 

Her heart thundered, blood rushing like a torrent through her veins as nerves instantly crashed over her, had her hands shaking so badly she had to ball them into fists at her sides. 

To distract herself from her fear, she took in the room, not missing how different it was to Marek’s Spanish villa. 

It suited Keras. 

There was an understated elegance about the room, a sense of luxury in every small detail. Clean white walls. Crisp, polished wood. Delicate fabrics on the chairs seated around the table to her right. A chandelier that twinkled at her through the doorway beyond it, the crystals and gold reflecting warm light. 

She could only imagine the money Keras had poured into his home. 

It was opulent. 

Befitting of the firstborn of Hades. 

It was also very neat. Everything had a place and was in it, and not a speck of dust marred the furniture. She had never noticed how neat Keras was. 

Her gaze strayed back to him, her heartbeat going off the scale again as she mustered her courage, as curiosity tugged a question to her lips. 

Why hadn’t he sensed her yet? 

Maybe he had. Maybe he was aware of her and too angry with her to face her. She studied him and frowned when she sensed no anger in him. She would have pondered whether he was struggling with other emotions. 

Only she couldn’t sense anything coming from him. 

Which was odd. 

She had been attuned to him once, able to detect the slightest shift in his feelings. Perhaps in their years apart, that skill had grown rusty, or a distance had grown between them, stealing it from her. 

Enyo watched him for a few seconds more, giving herself time to grow accustomed to the fact it was Keras before her. 

His rich masculine scent was the same, teased her senses with earth and spice, had her recalling the time she had fallen asleep resting against his shoulder in the secluded arbour in her brother’s garden. 

It warmed her. 

Soothed her. 

Gave her the courage she had been lacking as he opened the cupboard set into the kitchen island in front of him and bent over. 

“It has been two centuries since I last laid eyes upon that fine backside, but I do believe I would recognise it anywhere.” Enyo cringed as she finished saying that, sure she had made a terrible mistake and he wouldn’t remember that day several hundred years ago, when they had been hunting in the mortal world, and his horse had bolted. 

She had found him thrown face-first into a bush, his backside sticking out of it, and had remarked about recognising his fine backside. 

Tense seconds trickled past. 

Keras straightened and turned. “Enyo!” 

When he smiled at her, his emerald eyes lighting up with it, all of her nerves rushed out of her, replaced with warmth that heated her right down to her marrow. 

To her soul. 

Gods, he was as gorgeous as she remembered, and something hit her hard. 

She had missed him so badly. 

Surprise swept through her when he stepped into her and wrapped his arms around her, swiftly giving way to a lightness that chased every shadow from her heart, every fear from her mind as he held her. 

She hugged him back, closed her eyes and told herself to keep it together and not be weak. She leaned into his embrace, fighting tears that stung her eyes. A whirlwind of emotions swept through her, tangled ribbons of them that pulled her along with them, had her spinning as she held him. 

She kissed his cheek, secretly breathed him in. 

He still smelled the same. Still felt the same. If not better. It had been centuries, but she had never forgotten how good it felt to be in his arms. 

She did her best not to cling to him, not to let him see how deeply his friendly greeting was affecting her as a single thought spun through her mind. 

It was Keras—his cheek beneath her lips, his strong arms around her. 

She pulled herself together and withdrew her lips, before she ended up making a fool of herself. If she hadn’t managed that already. 

Keras drew back and smiled at her. “Anyone would think you had missed me.” 

She laughed, but couldn’t deny it. “There isn’t a man in all the Underworld who can hug like you do.” 

His arms dropped away from her as he stepped back, the embrace over too soon, and she schooled her features to hide her disappointment. 

Her nerves began to rise again as silence stretched between them once more, as he stared at her, and she swore something lit his green eyes, something cold and dark. 

“I have been scouting the Underworld,” she blurted, and cursed herself. 

She crushed her nerves. 

They rose back up again, persistent and more than a little annoying. 

She needed to appear strong, as confident as she used to be. She needed Keras to believe she had only come to relay information to him, at least until she felt sure of a few things. 

Like whether or not he hated her now. 

“People have been seen entering Nemesis’s realm over the last few decades. Not the usual gods or goddesses who are summoned there either. I heard several reports that people of an unknown breed had visited her.” 

Keras leaned his backside against the black counter of the island and folded his arms across his chest. Her gaze crept down to it, to the onyx material that hugged his lean muscled figure. The modern dress of the mortal world suited him, accentuated his fine figure, revealing his long legs and how his wide shoulders tapered into a trim waist. 

“What breeds?” His deep voice rolled over her, warming her and making it hard to think. 

“I am not sure.” That was the truth and not just because she felt a little addled being in his presence again, was still a little off-balance from the hug he had given her. “There were reports of both males and females, but none of them gods or goddesses. Not even demigods of note, but I cannot be certain there are not some involved. I can question the people who spoke of them and see if they know. Perhaps even visit the communities and ask questions there.” 

“If more Hellspawn are involved, Father would want to know.” 

Hellspawn. A term he and his brothers often used for the breeds Hades had allowed to remain in the Underworld after the last rebellion. The breeds that had been banished had been renamed daemons, a word that sounded more like a vile curse whenever Hades or Keras had spoken it in front of her. 

Keras dipped his head, and a damp ribbon of black hair slipped onto his brow, curled there and caressed his pale skin. 

He had bathed recently. Just the thought of him doing such a thing had heat licking through her veins. She fought it and subdued it, aware that Keras’s senses were strong and not wanting him to detect the desire that still burned inside her despite their centuries apart. 

He swept the rogue strand back and ran his long fingers through his hair. “Thank you for your information.” 

Enyo frowned at that, his cold response causing her nerves to gain ground. Was he angry with her because she had never come to see him? Marek had told her more than once that she caused him trouble when she came to see him rather than Keras, that Keras was always furious with him. 

Was he furious with her too? 

He leaned to his right and went to turn. 

Her gaze snagged on the bottle on the black counter and the empty glass beside it. “What is that?” 

She jerked her chin towards it. 

Keras didn’t even glance at it. “An experiment.” 

She read the red and white label. Vodka. She knew what that was. 

“Alcohol?” Her gaze leaped back to collide with his as shock rippled through her. “I thought that—” 

Keras cut her off. “Valen tried it and went off the deep end.” 

“Off the deep end?” She couldn’t hide the confusion that swept over her, knew he had heard it when a semblance of a smile touched his lips. 

“A mortal saying. It means to lose control. To be wild.” 

Enyo filed it away as she looked from the bottle to him, concern replacing her confusion. Valen had lost control, and Keras had decided to imbibe the same mortal-made brew that had made him wild. 

Did he want to go off the deep end too? 

“And you?” She frowned at him. “What did you feel?” 

Her eyes strayed to the bottle again. 

“Nothing.” Keras shifted a step to his left, into the path of her gaze. 

“Why?” She lifted her eyes back to his, unsure whether she was asking him why it hadn’t worked or why he had done something as reckless as drinking mortal alcohol when he knew how badly it affected him and his brothers. 

He hiked his shoulders. “I am still trying to figure that one out.” 

Enyo moved around him, deeper into the kitchen, curiosity and concern pulling her forwards, flooding her with a need to see the bottle. “How much did you drink?” 

He took hold of it before she could get a look at it by moving around him and held it up for her to see. 

A third of it was missing. 

Far more than she had expected. 

She hoped to the gods that he had at least started with a sip to gauge his reaction to it rather than diving straight in at a full glass. 

She stared at the bottle, unable to shake the feeling something was wrong. Very wrong. A third of a bottle of alcohol was a lot for him to drink. Was this more than an experiment? 

Had he hoped to awaken the same destructive power that Valen had by drinking alcohol? 

Her gaze drifted back to meet his. 

Why would he want to unleash that sort of power on this world? 

His eyes revealed nothing, not a single trace of what he was feeling. His heart was closed to her, and it chilled her, had the warmth she had felt from being in his presence and in his arms turning to ice in her veins. 

She reminded herself that she deserved his anger and this cold shoulder. She had come here to make amends, to slowly piece their friendship back together and perhaps even build on it in time. Olympus hadn’t been built in a day, and she was going to have to pick up the rubble of their past before she could begin constructing the future she wanted with him. 

Or at least a path that might bring her there if he felt something for her. 

Right now, she wasn’t sure that he did. 

In fact, she felt certain he didn’t and that he never had. 

She tried to focus on the present, refusing to let the past jade her or read into things too much. She had leaped the first hurdle. She just had to keep on her feet now and keep running forwards. No looking back. 

“Perhaps your inhibitors are too strong?” she said. 

He tensed, and his eyes darkened briefly, a shadow passing across them that lifted when he glanced down at his wrists, at the twin bands that encircled them, dampening his powers so he could be in this world without destroying it with the strength of them. 

She’d had thousands of years in this world to learn to control her power, and he had been thrust into it without any training, expected to know how to hold back his strength. 

“A reaction?” Enyo watched him closely, canting her head to her right as she tried to decipher whether the alcohol he had consumed was affecting him. 

He barely shook his head and didn’t look at her. 

She closed the distance between them again and took hold of his hands. An electric thrill bolted up both of her arms, had a shiver tripping down her spine as she felt the coolness of his skin against hers. He had always run a few degrees colder than her, something she blamed on his father’s genes. 

Hades could be as cold as they came. 

Enyo used her thumbs to brush the cuffs of his black dress shirt back and stroked them over the twin braided onyx bands that encircled his wrists, sitting flush against his skin. The power locked within them seeped into her. 

The man she had known in the Underworld. 

Never as strong as she was, but still incredibly powerful. 

She watched her thumbs caressing his wrists, fought another bout of nerves and ridiculous tears that wanted to fill her eyes as she felt a shadow of the connection that had once existed between them. 

Keras’s hands. 

Strong. Capable. Skilled in battle. 

Wrestling her emotions back under control, she lifted her gaze to his face, burning with a need to take it in again. 

His green eyes lingered on her hands where she touched him, something she couldn’t decipher slowly filling them. 

“I really did miss you,” she whispered, and cursed when the tears she thought she had wrangled under control began to fill her eyes. She blinked them away before he could see them. “I haven’t had a good fight in centuries.” 

He smiled, but it lacked the emotion it would have held once. 

He slipped his hands free of hers and turned his back to her, grabbed the glass and carried it to the sink to her left. 

Enyo stared at the bottle on the black counter. 

It worried her to see him doing something so irresponsible. 

It wasn’t like him. 

Sure, she had been hitting the ambrosia again recently, since things had started getting more intense in the mortal world. She had needed the escape it offered as her worry for Keras’s safety had grown. 

Was Keras seeking such an escape too? 

Keras casually turned back to face her, the air between them growing awkward again, something she felt sure she was the only one feeling. He stared at her in silence, and again she was hit by the fact that there wasn’t a single trace of emotion in his emerald eyes, none of the anger she deserved for avoiding him for two centuries and for the manner of their parting. 

He was strangely calm. 

There wasn’t even a hint of hurt in him. 

It made her feel as if she was looking at a different man. 

In the centuries she had known him, Keras had always shared his father’s personality, often calm on the surface but seething with powerful emotions beneath, a churning and dangerous mass of them that were liable to erupt to the surface at any moment. He had always been unpredictable. She had never known when his temper would snap, but she had always known when he was angry. His tone had never revealed it, but his eyes had. 

Now those eyes were empty as they gazed at her. 

She thought about the things Marek had said to her and the messages Valen had sent. 

And felt they were both right. 

Something was wrong with Keras. 

Very wrong. 


Book 8: Thanatos – Coming in 2021 


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 18 November 2020

Book Tour and Review of Just Shelby by Brooklyn James @BrooklynJames7

 I am thrilled to bring you the book tour of Just Shelby, the new book by author Brooklyn James.

Book Title: Just Shelby
Genre: YA Romance
Pages: 301
Author: Brooklyn James
Date Published: 27 October 2020


A secret note square found in a handmade guitar proves that small-town gossip is not only ubiquitous but occasionally true. This gossip comes with strings rivaling those on Ace Cooper’s guitar, the safest strings he will ever have around his heart.

Ace’s father warns him to stay away from the Lynn girl. Daughter of a deceased bootlegger and a barely living addict, Shelby Lynn is no stranger to small-town contempt. She keeps her nose in the books and feet to the ground, a college scholarship the only escape from her tumultuous life.

As Ace’s heartstrings unravel, so does his family’s role in Shelby’s broken past. Thrust into a precarious journey of their roots brimming with music and betrayal, the two have never been closer…to the truth of how Shelby’s father died. One truth transforms every facet of their lives forever.

A dual POV friends-to-first-love story, Just Shelby is an unsuspecting mystery that depicts how growing together can sometimes hurt worse than growing apart.

My Review:

Just ShelbyJust Shelby by Brooklyn James
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Just Shelby is a young adult, coming of age tale that takes the reader on an emotional journey.

Shelby Lynn is a wonderful character. I liked her a lot. She is the daughter of a deceased bootlegger father and a drug addict mother. She faces challenges that most people struggle with - peer pressure, small-town gossip and job prospects that are rather lacking. However, she has plans, big ones, to get a running scholarship and go to college so that she can escape from the judgement of the townsfolk. Her one saving grace is her friendship with Ace.

Ace Cooper is a fantastic character. I loved him too. He works in the mine with his father, but would much rather play music. When an opportunity to own a guitar belonging to one of the members of a band that once lived in the town appears, Ace takes it, little realising the secrets the guitar holds.

I enjoy a story where the protagonist grows, and this story both of them do. I love the chemistry these two have. Not fiery passion, but love that grew from a shared history, including the sole incubator (which they called the box) in the hospital when they were born on the same day. It came as no surprise to me that I fell in love with these two. They are the boy and girl next door, with family issues and day to day worries.

I knew going in that this book would take me on an emotional roller coaster, as I've previously read a few other books by this author. My only regret is that the book ended. The difficulty is trying to write a review without giving too much away, though I want to know more about what happened to Shelby and Ace, and whether they managed to find the happiness they wanted with their chosen paths. However, I can say that this story is incredibly touching, with surprising twists that had me gasping in shock, laughing and or crying, depending on the situation. The mystery surrounding the death of Shelby's father is revealed, and the culprit is a surprise.

Brooklyn James has written a story that touched me deeply. I love her fast-paced writing style, and the flow is wonderful. I am now looking forward to reading more of her books as soon as I can.

Due to the mention of drug abuse, I do not recommend this book to younger readers under 13, or those of a sensitive nature due to triggering. However, I highly recommend this book if you love older YA, Coming of Age and Romance genres. - Lynn Worton

View all my reviews

About The Author:

This picture was taken from her Amazon Author Page.

Brooklyn James is an author/singer-songwriter inspired by life in the Live Music Capital of Austin, Texas. Her first novel, The Boots My Mother Gave Me, has an original music soundtrack and was chosen as a Quarter-Finalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards. The book provided a platform where it was her honour to serve as a guest speaker with a focus on awareness and prevention of domestic violence and suicide.

When she is not writing books, she can be found playing live music around Austin as part of an acoustic duo. Moonlighting occasionally in voice-over and film, she played a Paramedic in a Weezer video, met Harry Connick Jr. as an extra on the set of When Angels Sing, appeared in Richard Linklater's Boyhood for all of a nanosecond and was a stand-in and stunt double for Mira Sorvino on Jerry Bruckheimer's Trooper pilot for TNT. Although reading, dancing, working out, and a good glass of kombucha get her pretty excited, she finds most thrilling the privilege of being a mother to two illuminating little souls and a wife to the one big soul from whom they get their light.

Brooklyn holds an M.A. in Communication and a B.S. in both Nursing and Animal Science. Her nursing career has seen specialities in the areas of Intensive Care and Postpartum. With the publication of her birth memoir, she is available for speaking engagements, readings, signings, and writing workshops on how to put pen to paper composing one's own birth story.

Author Links:

Website ; Amazon Author Page ; Goodreads ; Facebook ; Twitter

Friday 2 October 2020

Book Promotion/New Release: Daimon (Guardians of Hades series Book 6) by Felicity Heaton @FelicityHeaton

New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton has just released, DAIMON, the latest paranormal romance 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!

Daimon (Guardians of Hades Paranormal Romance Series Book 6)
by Felicity Heaton

Daimon is ice. His heart is frozen by it. His body caged by it. And he likes it that way. But the sexy sorceress that storms into his life and declares herself a part of his team in his battle against the daemon uprising is determined to melt the ice that has shielded him for centuries, and he’s powerless to stop the burning need she ignites in him.

Even when he’s sure it’s only a game to her.

Cassandra has a sword hanging over her, a duty she has no choice but to perform and one she’s been putting off for years. Her latest excuse? Helping a band of immortal brothers with a war that might mean the end of this world if they fail. Her delaying the inevitable has nothing to do with the gorgeous Greek god who keeps rebuffing her and everything to do with saving the world. He’s a nice distraction and nothing more. She keeps telling herself that.

Even when she’s sure he’s a danger to her heart.

As things heat up in the battle to save the mortal world and the Underworld, will Daimon’s icy heart be able to withstand the fiery witch who can scorch him with just a look?

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This wasn’t going well.

Daimon slipped a throwing knife from the holster that sat against his ribs over his navy roll-neck long-sleeve, and funnelled his power into it before sending it flying at the daemon running right at him across the dewy moonlit grass of Hyde Park. The small blade hit its target, nailing the human-looking male in the chest. Ice immediately spread outwards from the point of impact and the male grunted and went down clutching his chest as glittering frost flowers rapidly covered it. His skin darkened, turning mottled in the low light, appearing almost black.

Beside Daimon, his older brother Ares unleashed a wave of fire at another two daemons, driving them back, and tossed a fireball at a third.

They had expected this.

What they hadn’t expected was that it would take so long to close one of the main gates.

Behind him, Valen grunted and muttered a black curse in the mortal tongue. The scent of his brother’s blood hung heavily in the damp autumnal night air. Worry ran through Daimon, and not only him. Ares flicked a concerned glance over his broad shoulder, the fires of the Underworld raging in his eyes, making them glow in the darkness.

Eva bit out something in Italian. She had stopped speaking English around five minutes ago, when Valen had announced the gate was resisting his attempt to seal it and had decided to spill more of his blood in the hope it would speed the process along since twenty daemons had descended on them.

“I’m going to need more,” Valen gritted, his voice tight and speaking of the frustration Daimon could feel in him.

As well as the pain.

“Too risky,” Ares answered as a whip made of fire appeared in his right hand and he narrowed his gaze on the trees that enclosed one side of the area around the gate. Daemons spilled from them, cutting across the paths and the grass, heading right for him. He grunted as he lashed out at the daemons with the flaming whip, driving them back and stopping them from reaching Valen. “You sure you’re using the right wards? Or doing them right? I mean, we all know how shitty your wards are.”

Valen chuckled, the sound out of place given the graveness of the situation. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. My wards are beautiful.”

They weren’t. Valen had never bothered to apply himself when it came to studying wards. Their father, Hades, the god-king of the Underworld, had gone as far as calling them bad. It took a lot for their father to admit to a fault in any of his sons, let alone point it out to the entire family.

“You’re definitely using the right ones?” Daimon didn’t take his eyes off the daemons as they made another attempt to get past him and Ares, breaking into four teams of four and coming at them in one wave.

The longer this war to protect the gates between the mortal realm and the Underworld went on, the more organised the daemons were becoming. He swore the enemy were training them, teaching them how to fight as a unit—turning them into soldiers.

He had to admit he’d preferred it when the daemons had been lone wolves, only a few of them reckless enough to succumb to the lure of breaching a gate and entering the Underworld—a realm they were forbidden to enter.

Just like Daimon and his brothers.

Only unlike the daemons, he could go home once this war was done.

He drew down a breath and threw his right hand forwards as he summoned his power. The dew on the grass became a thousand tiny ice needles that flew through the air and hammered into one of the daemons, taking him down. The female daemon who had been running beside that wretched male shrieked as she was caught by a few of the small spears of ice, her ear-splitting cry piercing enough that Daimon flinched and his next wave missed their target.

“Exactly as Cal told me.” Valen huffed and water sloshed as he moved, a reminder to Daimon to keep his distance from his brother since standing in the Round Pond was the only way for Valen to get close enough to the gate to spill his blood on it. The last thing Daimon wanted was to accidentally freeze the small lake. Valen grumbled, “And Keras hammered home around thirty times.”

His violet-haired brother wasn’t embellishing that.

Keras, their oldest brother and self-appointed leader, had sat Valen down on one of the cream couches in the Tokyo mansion and gone over the wards at least three dozen times. In the end, Valen had stepped, a term they used for teleporting since it only took a single step for them to travel great distances, to escape another round of which wards went where.

It wasn’t that Keras didn’t trust Valen to get it right, it was that this was important.

Since the enemy had revealed they were in possession of two of the Erinyes, goddesses who had the ability to siphon powers and who strengthened that power by passing it between them in a cycle, and those Erinyes had gotten their hands on the ability to command the gates Daimon and his brothers protected, they had been on red alert.

The gates were the focus of their mission, the reason Hades had banished Daimon and his brothers to the mortal world two centuries ago, after the Moirai had foreseen a great calamity, one where an unknown enemy would breach the gates between the mortal realm and the Underworld, fusing the two into a new hellish realm.

It had come to light that he and his brothers were more than just protectors of the gates though.

They were bound to them in blood, a bond forged at the time of their birth, one gate created for each of them.

Cal had managed to close their twin sister’s gate in Seville, and had gone over everything he had done, using wards, a sort of spell, to seal it and conceal it, stopping it from opening and rendering it safe from the enemy.

With the enemy able to open the gates thanks to the power the Erinyes had stolen from Marinda, Cal’s girlfriend and the third Erinyes, and the fact the enemy seemed bent on breaching at least one gate before that power faded, Keras had decided they needed to act.

Closing the gates was dangerous, because it meant there were fewer gates to share the power that flowed between them all, and that would make them more unpredictable and harder to command, but it was a necessary risk.

And the only path open to them.

It would not only give the enemy fewer gates they could hit, but it would mean that the enemy couldn’t split him and his brothers up as easily.

Valen had volunteered to seal the London gate, which was bound to him, and Cal had volunteered to close the main Seville gate. Cal was there now with Keras, Marek, and Caterina, Marek’s girl-fiend as Valen called her because she was a hybrid, a human who had been given daemon blood by the enemy in an attempt to take down Marek.

Everyone had thought sealing a main gate would be as simple as closing the twin gate had been for Cal.

Apparently, everyone had thought wrong.

Ares took out another two daemons, bringing their numbers down but still not enough to satisfy Daimon. He imbued another two knives with his ice and let them fly. One of them buried to the ring-shaped hilt in the forehead of a female daemon, and the other slammed into the throat of the male behind her.

Valen bit out a ripe curse.

Daimon didn’t take his focus away from the daemons charging towards him.

Ares looked back at their brother and swore too.

That didn’t sound good.

Daimon risked a glance over his shoulder as he sent a thicker spear of ice flying at the closest daemon, cleaving the male in two at the waist.

“Shit,” he muttered as he spotted what his brothers had.

More daemons, sprinting towards them from the other side of the Round Pond, a shadowy mass of them silhouetted before the elegant red-brick and sandstone Kensington Palace.

The new horde of daemons split into two groups as they reached the far end of the pond, coming at them from both sides.

Above the water, the flat disc of the gate shimmered in a rainbow of colours, chasing back the darkness. The thick rings rotated slowly in opposing directions, all of them chasing around the central violet circle. Glyphs encircled each band, smaller ones that filled the gaps between them, and larger ones inside the ring. The power of the gate hummed in the air, inside him, drew him to it with a promise that on the other side was home.


A place he wanted to go more than anything.

There, his power was under his control, would no longer shimmer over his skin in a way that felt like a curse. Here, he couldn’t touch anyone, not even his brothers, without risking killing them with his ice, or severely maiming them at the very least. Here, he was alone, even within the circle of his brothers.

The blood Valen had spilled on the gate absorbed into it, the colours that danced across its surface and curled into the air like faint smoke brightening again.

It was beautiful.

Beautiful and vulnerable.

Daimon’s stomach swirled as the daemons closed in, the foul coppery odour of them filling the air, drawing out his darker side. He wouldn’t let them near the gate.

He closed his eyes, drew down a slow breath that filled his lungs, and focused his power, calling on it. His blood chilled and he shuddered, huddling down into the tall neck of his long-sleeved sweater and his ankle-length black coat, trying to keep that cold at bay.

It never worked.

It was always there, always part of him in this world, a constant presence that drained him emotionally.

He flicked his eyes open and swiftly raised both of his gloved hands.

Around him, his brothers and the gate, hundreds of clear shards of ice shot from the earth and the water to form a circular wall forty feet tall.

Daimon sagged forwards and Ares came to check on him as Valen muttered an oath.

His older brother ghosted a hand over Daimon’s spine, the warmth that emanated from him giving Daimon a brief reprieve from the cold. Ares shared his problem. His brother’s power over fire had manifested in this world, meaning he couldn’t touch anyone without the risk of burning them.

Or at least he hadn’t been able to until Megan, a Carrier with the ability to heal, had come into his life. Megan was immune to Ares’s fire, and could withstand Daimon’s ice, and he and his brothers had surmised she was closer to her demigod ancestors than most Carriers.

“Can you get it done?” Daimon pressed his hands to his thighs and ignored the way the frost on his leather gloves spread onto his black jeans.

“Give me a minute.” Valen went back to work, holding his arm out over the gate and closing his eyes as his blood spilled onto it. Beside him, Eva, his brother’s mortal assassin girlfriend, shifted foot to foot, concern shining in her rich blue eyes.

“I’ll handle these guys.” Ares straightened and broke away from Daimon, heading for the few daemons that had ended up within the ice wall.

Daimon wanted to help him, but he needed to focus on the wall. Where it touched the water, it was in danger of melting, was weaker and vulnerable. The daemons had already figured that out and were beating it with fist and claw, attempting to break through. He focused there, summoning more shards of ice to reinforce it.

Wishing Esher was here.

His brother would have used that water to his advantage, would have drowned all the daemons in a heartbeat.

Daimon looked at the gate and fought the urge that suddenly sparked to life inside him.

Esher was on the other side of that gate, in the Underworld, hunting for one of the enemy who had slipped through the gate in Paris. He was alone. Lost to his other side. Daimon rose to his full height and drifted towards the gate, pulled to it as his heart filled with a need to find Esher.

Pain bloomed inside him, searing his bones in multiple places where an injury didn’t exist on his own body.

It existed on Esher’s.

Daimon could feel them, the depth of the bond they had forged over the centuries relaying not only the pain his brother felt, but the anger and frustration.

The rage.

The other side of Esher, the savage and cold one that had been born in the darkest of times, was firmly in control. Daimon could feel that too. He needed his brother back with him, not only because he needed to know he was safe and because he was worried about him—missed him.

He needed him back so he could bring him back.

Esher had confessed to him once that he feared that other side of himself, that he loathed it. Daimon could only imagine how his brother was suffering now, a slave to his darker side, driven to hunt and not rest until he had secured his prey.

The wraith.


If they could get their hands on him, they might be able to find out who was behind this attempt to breach the gates. Once, they had believed it was purely the work of daemons, but then they had discovered a Hellspawn, what he and his brothers called the species of daemons who had been allowed to remain in the Underworld after the last rebellion against Hades, was involved, and now there were goddesses on the enemy side.

Where did it end?

Someone was behind all of this, and all they had to go on was that it was a female.

Their father had sent them a long list of possible enemies currently residing in the Underworld, far too many for Daimon’s liking. Discovering which of them, if any, were behind everything would take too long. It was quicker to get their hands on the wraith and make him talk.

An ominous creaking noise drew Daimon’s gaze to his left. His eyes tracked the jagged fault line spreading up the ice from a point where several daemons were clawing at it. Was he imagining it, or were there even more daemons now?

“You guys got this?” Valen said.

“Sure.” Daimon readied himself, shoring up the wall of ice but aware it wouldn’t hold, not against that many sets of claws.

The daemons’ black blood streaked the clear ice, the foul stench of it filling the air. Disgust rolled through him and he curled his lip.

Ares grunted in response from the right side of the pond as he slammed a daemon into the pavement that encircled the water.

“Good, because I’m not sure I can do this.” Valen sounded tired now, and when Daimon fixed his senses on his violet-haired brother, he felt it too. “Not without a little more juice.”

Daimon looked back at him.

Valen’s golden eyes glittered, glowing in the light shining from the gate as he raised one of his blades.

“No,” Ares snarled, pivoted towards him, and kicked off.

He wouldn’t make it. Neither would Daimon, not even if he stepped.

All he could do was watch as Valen ran the blade across his wrist and blood gushed from the wound.

“Stronzo!” Eva barked and lunged for him, her short black hair flying out of her face as she reached for the blade.

Valen sagged as blood poured from his wrist, splattering across the surface of the gate and spreading outwards, and Eva grabbed him instead of the knife. She caught him as his knees gave out.

He breathed hard from between gritted teeth, his eyes rapidly darkening as they narrowed.

Eva muttered soft words in Italian, sweet chastising ones coupled with a few strong swear words that Daimon decided his brother deserved.

Valen leaned heavily on her slender shoulders, his arm shaking as he tried to keep holding it out over the gate. Eva took hold of his arm for him, helping him, and he looked at her, a hell of a lot of love in his eyes that was still strange to see. Valen’s default setting for his entire life had been caustic, and it had only gotten worse in the centuries after their sister had died and Zeus had punished Valen for his insubordination by removing his favour from him, leaving a ragged scar down the left side of Valen’s face and neck, a permanent reminder of what he had done.

So it was weird seeing his brother looking at someone with genuine warmth in his eyes.

With love.

The blood Valen was spilling onto the gate seeped across the surface, muting the colours.

“I think it’s working,” Valen slurred.

Eva struggled to keep him on his feet.

Daimon wasn’t sure how their youngest brother, Calistos, was going to be able to handle closing the main gate in Seville if closing London was draining Valen this much. Cal had been out of sorts since they had lost the chance to discover the location of his twin sister, Calindria’s, soul and Esher had disappeared. Cal was blaming himself for both of those things. Daimon doubted he was strong enough to handle closing Seville on top of all that.

“Think I’m—” Valen cut off as he suddenly dropped, his knees hitting the bottom of the shallow pond, and Eva yelped as she was dragged down with him.

Daimon looked at the gate as he called on his power, summoning one last wave of ice. It rose up around the inside of the wall, the shards only seven feet tall but enough to keep the daemons at bay while Ares checked on Valen and the gate.

A gate which Daimon could no longer feel, not as he could before. The power that flowed from it now was muted, barely there. Had Valen done it?

The rings slowly began to shrink, the innermost one winking out of existence as it touched the central violet disc.

It was closing.

“Is he good?” Daimon hollered, keeping his focus on the wall of ice, aware the daemons were still there and still trying to get to them.

Ares looked up from his position crouched next to Valen and nodded. “Think so. He’s out cold though.”

Daimon didn’t like the sound of that.

Closing the twin gate had been taxing on Cal, but he hadn’t passed out.

Ares pulled a phone from his pocket, the screen casting white highlights in his overlong tawny hair and across his face as his thumb danced over the device. “Calling in a retrieval.”

Because neither he nor Daimon could teleport with Valen without harming him.

Eva tore the hem of her T-shirt and bound Valen’s wrist, muttering obscenities in Italian under her breath the whole time.

Beyond Ares, Valen and Eva, the last ring of the gate shrank into the central disc. It shrank too and then disappeared with a violent flash.


For now.

Once the enemy was dead and the threat over, Hades would want the gates opened again. Their father had sent a Messenger to Keras to say he had stopped all traffic through the gates, but had made it clear he couldn’t keep the Underworld closed for long.

Gods, goddesses and Hellspawn didn’t appreciate being caged in that realm, having their freedom taken from them. Hades’s staff were already dealing with hundreds of complaints.

Considering the alternative was them all losing their home and being ruled by whoever was behind this uprising, Daimon figured they could put up with their freedom being impacted a little.

Daimon kept an eye on Valen as Eva tended to him, worry a constant weight in his heart as his senses remained locked on the daemons. They retreated into the night, but he kept his boots firmly planted where they were, resisting the urge to follow them and eradicate them all.

Valen needed him here.

The ice walls surrounding them were beginning to crack as Marek appeared, black ribbons of smoke curling from the shoulders of his torn charcoal linen shirt and onyx daemon blood streaked across his face and darkening his wavy brown hair.

His earthy eyes shimmered with green and gold flakes as he looked down at Valen where he lay in Eva’s arms. “Cal suffered the same fate.”

Daimon cast a glance at Ares. Concern etched hard lines on his older brother’s face, unease that ran through Daimon too as he thought about not one but two of their brothers out cold with no sign of coming around.

If he had known closing a gate would cause this to happen, he would have spoken out against it rather than going along with it. The look on Ares’s face said he wasn’t sure what he would have said, and Daimon didn’t envy him.

Marek looked just as conflicted as he stooped and lifted Valen into a fireman’s carry over his shoulder.

Daimon was glad he wasn’t one of the oldest of their group. He felt the weight of responsibility enough as it was. He couldn’t imagine how heavily it weighed upon Keras, Ares and Marek’s shoulders.

Keras was under enough pressure as it was, without having to order them to close the gates knowing full well they would end up like Valen and Cal.

Closing the gates was something they needed to do, but Daimon feared the cost of shutting them down was dangerously high.

He only hoped he was wrong about that.

Marek held his hand out to Eva. Her blue eyes reluctantly shifted away from Valen and landed on it. She placed hers into it and they both disappeared.

Ares was quick to follow them.

Daimon lingered, waiting for the ice walls to break because he wanted to be sure all evidence of their existence would be gone by morning, when mortals would enter Hyde Park. He didn’t want them seeing anything out of place.

That was the only reason he hadn’t teleported.

It had nothing to do with the sorceress who was probably waiting in Tokyo to give him hell.

He scrubbed a hand over the spikes of his white hair, watching the ice begin to crumble.

The ancient Edo period mansion felt far too small with her staying in it, but when he had suggested she bunk elsewhere, Cass had been quick to launch into an argument with him. Her ward, Marinda, was staying in the mansion with Cal since the London townhouse that was his home had been breached by Eli and the enemy, which meant Cass had decided she was also staying in Tokyo, right under Daimon’s feet.

Daimon rubbed the back of his neck and huffed.

The sorceress had a bad habit of just deciding things, and no one got a say in them.

Daimon had been staying in Tokyo to take care of the mansion, which was primarily Esher’s home now although their father had built it for all of them, and so he could be there for Aiko. Aiko was devastated by Esher’s disappearance, and Daimon needed to look after her for his brother.

He was doing his best, but some days were harder than others.

Some days, Daimon’s dark thoughts and fears about his brother weighed too heavily on him and he couldn’t face her, or anyone.

His phone vibrated and he didn’t bother to check the message that had come in. It would be from Keras, asking him where he was.

He focused on the wall, raised his hand and curled it into a fist. When he squeezed it, the ice shattered, and Daimon stepped. Darkness whirled around him, cool and comforting, a connection to the Underworld that he savoured, and then his boots hit gravel.

He opened his eyes and looked at the mansion, aching inside.

It felt empty without Esher in it, even when all his brothers and their women were there, crowding the long main room of the single-storey horseshoe-shaped building. Morning sunlight reflected off the glazed grey ribbed tiles of the roof and brightened the white panels that filled the spaces between thick dark wooden beams. It warmed his back, casting his shadow out before him, across the gravel and the steppingstones, to the base of one of the large stone lanterns that were dotted around the front garden.

From inside, voices rang out, a cacophony that had him wanting to teleport to his own home in Hong Kong to get some peace and quiet.

And avoid the owner of the angry female voice that for some damned reason he picked out from the blur.

“You should have taken me with you. Now look what happened. I could have helped,” Cass snapped, her words harsh and clipped, bringing out her Russian accent as they rang with the fury he could sense coming from her.

Keras didn’t respond to that. He carried Cal towards the right side of the mansion, disappearing from view with Marinda hurrying behind him. Cass turned, her pale blue eyes tracking her ward, a worried edge to them that almost made him feel there was a warm heart somewhere beneath that irritating, haughty exterior of hers.

Daimon forced himself to walk to the front porch, stepped up onto the raised wooden deck as he toed his boots off, and steeled himself only a little before entering the house.

As expected, Cass’s eyes immediately leaped to him.

He cursed when he realised they were alone.

She strode towards him, the thigh slit in her long black dress flashing a lot of creamy flesh at him. He swore she never took the damned thing off. Would it kill her to wear something less revealing, less figure-hugging? The soft black material embraced ample breasts and a small waist, and flared over curvy hips. It flashed every inch of her and made it impossible not to notice things about her.

Things he didn’t want to notice.

Before she could open her mouth to launch her first salvo, he held his hand up and strode past her.

“Not interested.”

Daimon made a beeline for the garden nestled between the three sides of the house, needing air and some space because he felt as if he was drowning.

Had been feeling that way since Cass had come crashing into their lives.

He couldn’t get a moment alone, and gods he needed a moment to breathe.

Cass stepped into his path, the flare of anger in her ice-blue eyes rapidly fading into something far worse—concern.

She gave him a once-over. “Those wounds need looking at.”

She pointed to his chest and then his legs, and he had never been more aware of his own body as he was whenever she was gazing at it.

“I’m not in the mood for you, Cass. Just leave me alone.” He stepped past her, heading for the garden and the air he badly needed.

Space to rein his riotous feelings back under his control.

Needs he had no right to feel.

“Daimon, wait…” She started after him again.

Wanting to be sure she got the message and left him alone, he turned on her with a growl as his feet hit the wooden planks of the covered walkway that ran around all three wings of the house.

“I don’t have time for this right now. Esher is still missing, I’m tired and injured, and we don’t know when or where the enemy will attack next and I need to take care of Valen.”

Cass inched back a step with each harsh word he threw at her. It wasn’t like the sorceress to shrink away from someone, especially him.

“I just want to help,” she bit out, a little too sulkily for him to not feel anything other than like a royal dick. “Let me help with Valen.”

“Fine,” he muttered, and took some of the bite out of his tone as he added, “I’d appreciate that.”

He turned to his right, towards the southern wing of the house where Valen’s quarters were.

Cass murmured, “It wouldn’t kill you to let me help you too.”

He knew that, but he couldn’t. He needed to keep his distance from her.

He’d made a promise.

He drew his long black coat back and slipped his right hand into his pocket, and clutched the pendant hanging from his phone.

A promise he intended to keep.

Grab your copy today at

Book 1: Ares
Book 2: Valen
Book 3: Esher
Book 4: Marek
Book 5: Calistos
Book 6: Daimon
Book 7: Keras – Coming Fall 2020

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 20 August 2020

Book Review of Calistos (Guardians of Hades Romance Series Book 5) by Felicity Heaton @FelicityHeaton


Book Title: Calistos (Guardians of Hades Book 5)
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Pages: 425
Author: Felicity Heaton
Date Published: 17 July 2020


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?


Calistos (Guardians of Hades, #5)Calistos by Felicity Heaton
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Calistos is the fifth book in the Guardians of Hades series. I loved it!

Calistos is one of six son's of Hades. He is an intriguing character, and I liked him a lot. Calistos hides behind a devil-may-care attitude and acts as if he has no worries. However, he misses his twin sister, who died long ago. Every time he tries to remember what happened that day, he suffers from blackouts. After a fight that leaves him severely wounded, Calistos wakes up in the ER, where, in an attempt to escape, he kidnaps a mortal woman.

Marinda is a cellist, who works in the ER as a receptionist when not playing in an orchestra. I loved Marinda. She is a fantastic female protagonist who is level-headed and loyal. After seeing Calistos in the ER, Marinda feels a connection to the injured man. When he kidnaps her, Marinda finds her life will never be the same again.

I have been looking forward to reading this book for several months, ever since I finished Marek.

I love reading the Guardians of Hades series; I love the world the author has created - a mixture of real and imagined, with a dash of action, adventure and romance. The brothers are loveable, with flaws and insecurities, which make them more realistic and relatable, and their women are strong and feisty.

In this story, the brothers are still trying to avoid the Morai prediction of both the human and Underworld colliding to create the Otherworld. It was a pleasure meeting the other brothers and their new loves once more. Hades and Persephone also make an appearance; they are typical parents - overprotective and loving. We also get to meet Marinda's godmother, Cassandra, who has a most unusual effect on Daimon. Marinda herself has a secret she didn't know she had, and Calistos learns what happened to his sister. There are also fast-paced fight scenes, which are this author's forte. She brings them to life with such vividness that I feel like I am there, so I always enjoy those and am now looking forward to reading Daimon and Cassandra's story soon.

Felicity Heaton has written another fast-paced, sexy paranormal romance that I thoroughly enjoyed. I love her fast-paced writing style, which flows effortlessly from scene to scene. She is on top of my favourite author's list.

Each book of this series could be read as a stand-alone, as this one does not end in a cliffhanger, though I would recommend reading them in order. I do not recommend this book to younger readers due to the extremely HOT and explicit sexual scenes. However, I highly recommend this book (and series) if you love sexy paranormal romances full of gods and daemons. - Lynn Worton

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About The Author:

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 shapeshifters 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: