Category Archives: 2021

Unleashed by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Shifter Romance Series Book 4) is out now in ebook and paperback

Posted on 21st September 2021 by Felicity Heaton

I’m excited because today is the release day of book 4 in my Black Ridge Bears shifter romance series. I really enjoyed writing Rune and Callie’s book, especially because it introduces the White Wolf pack in the neighbouring valley. It was fun getting to write wolf shifters again!

If you love sizzling shifter romances featuring hot alpha heroes and strong heroines bringing them to their knees then the Black Ridge Bears 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!

About the Book

Unleashed by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Series Book 4)
by Felicity Heaton
Bear shifter Rune hates wolf shifters. Wolves and the hunter organisation Archangel have taken too much from him and the only good wolf is a dead wolf… so when a howl goes up in Black Ridge territory, Rune is out for blood. Only he’s not prepared for the sleek, beautiful and fiery female he finds trapped in a hunter’s snare… or the shadow of his past she has on her tail.

On the run from a pack leader determined to enslave her, Callie is desperate to reach the sanctuary of the White Wolf pack. When she finds herself caught in a trap, things look as if they can’t get any worse… until a mountain of a man emerges from the night, an ice-cold bear who is equal parts alluring and terrifying, and might just be the key to securing her freedom.

Can Callie crack the ice around Rune’s heart and convince him to help her? And when the price of his revenge is risking getting another female killed, will Rune be willing to pay it?

Another wave of sickness rolled over her, bringing darkness in its wake again, and Callie fought it, fearing she would pass out. She couldn’t pass out. She panted hard, each rapid breath stirring the old brown pine needles as she flopped onto her side, battling the encroaching darkness. She had to stay awake. If she passed out, she would shift, and if she shifted…

Sickness washed through her again, her stomach turning at just the thought.

So she waged a war against the pain that burned inside her, fire that seared her right hind leg and was growing stronger with every agonising second that trickled past. She waged a war with her body, refusing to let go of her wolf form, desperately clinging to it because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

Callie mustered enough strength to continue her assault on the thick wire that had tightened around her right leg, twisted and frantically chewed on it. The metallic taste of it was joined with that of blood on her tongue as she bit closer to her leg. The snare had already cut deep into her flesh. If she couldn’t get it loose, if she couldn’t stop the pain from forcing her to shift back or the darkness from taking her, something that would also result in her returning to her human form, that snare was going to cause her a world of pain far worse than it was now.

As her ankle grew, the wire would slice into her flesh and hobble her by either causing a wound so deep she wouldn’t be able to place weight on her leg or by snapping the bone. Hell, it might even take her foot clean off. Wounds and broken bones she could mend, but she couldn’t grow her foot back.

She snarled and growled, bit the wire and shook her head, trying to loosen it and free herself.

All the while aware of her surroundings, that at any moment the men who were after her could catch up with her.

She stilled, somehow made it through another wave of nausea that threatened to have her blacking out, and gave herself a moment to recover before attacking the old hunter’s trap again. She couldn’t afford to waste a second. She had to keep moving.

She had lost Carrigan and his men at the start of this valley, but every second she spent trying to free herself was a second that brought them closer to finding her.

She cursed and it came out as a mournful howl, something she regretted as the night went deathly still. That howl would carry for miles, giving away her position, but her wolf side was agitated, her instinct to call for help strong. Somewhere out there was White Wolf Lodge. She had to be close to it by now. If she called for help, someone might hear her and come to find her.

Someone might save her.

She should have reached that place of sanctuary by now, feared she had missed it somehow, even when she wasn’t sure how that was possible. By all accounts, the lodge was large, with many tourist cabins on one side of the property, and just as many cabins for the wolf shifters who called it home on the other. It wasn’t possible that she had managed to miss such a large group of cabins.

The urge to howl again rushed through her as the snare tightened further rather than loosening. Callie tamped it down, deeply aware that Carrigan was closing in on her, terrified of him finding her. Her heart laboured at just the thought, fear swift to sink sharp talons into her and seize hold of her, to shake and rattle her.

She couldn’t go back to his pack.

She just couldn’t.

The things he had threatened to do to her and the way the other males had looked at her, and the state of the females she had seen there, all ran around her head, tormenting her, working to tear down what little strength she had as they terrified her. She wasn’t there now. She was free. Almost. She glared at the wire and started biting it again, shaking her head as she managed to get a fang into the loop, working it loose. She had escaped from that place, had narrowly avoided suffering the same terrible fate those females had, and she wasn’t going back.

She wouldn’t let him catch her.

She wouldn’t.

If it came down to it, she would risk hobbling herself.

Gods, the thought of shifting back and allowing the wire to cut into her leg sickened her, hit her hard enough that she immediately changed her mind. She couldn’t do it. She released the wire when her efforts to loosen it did nothing and flopped onto her side again, panting hard, needing a moment to breathe.

She had tried to shift back a few times, to let the snare slice into her ankle, but each time fear had stopped her.

Callie angled her head and stared through the canopy of the evergreen forest, past spindly pine and spruce branches and the thicker ones of the firs, gazing at the clear night sky. A million stars spotted it even in the smallest of gaps, the sight of them seeming to calm her as they gave her something else to focus on. A voice in the back of her mind whispered that she wasn’t going to get out of this trap without shifting back, without accepting the pain that would come with her transformation into her human form. If she didn’t find the strength to embrace that pain and do what was necessary, then Carrigan would find her.

Surely it was better to suffer a short burst of pain that would linger for a few days at most than subject herself to years of abuse? Years of being used by males who believed they owned her and had a right to her body. Years of living with males who looked down on her, treating her as inferior, as something that existed to serve them.

She huffed, blowing pine needles in all directions as her head dropped back to the ground.

All wolf packs were the same. Females were inferior, had few rights and never a say in anything, even in the more progressive packs in Canada. She had thought her pack different once, back when her family had been alive and she had been young and blind to the true nature of it. Then, when she had learned of the European packs and how many of them were making grand, sweeping changes to bring about equality, she had started to take a good hard look at her pack and hadn’t liked what she had seen.

But even her pack had started looking progressive when she had seen the one Carrigan ran.

At least the males at her family’s pack hadn’t done as they pleased with females, taking them whether they were willing or not, slaking their urges whenever they struck with little regard for how it made the female feel.

Carrigan treated the female members of his pack as if they existed only to please the males.

Callie stared at the trunk of the nearest towering pine, the breeze stirring her black fur.

The White Wolf pack were meant to be different. More than just progressive. The alpha there believed in treating females with respect and kindness. He listened to them, even went as far as seeking their opinions about things and involving them in the running of his pack.

A pack that was made up of wolves from every corner of Canada and some from south of the border too.

According to the things she had heard, the pack alpha accepted anyone who came to him, no questions asked.

Gods, she hoped that was true.

She wouldn’t blame him if he did turn her away though. She was bringing trouble in her wake, something he would have to deal with for her, and the closer she got to meeting him, the more she felt she was asking too much of a male she didn’t know. She wasn’t just asking him to take her in. She was asking him to fix her problem for her too.

Callie looked at her leg and the trap.

None of that mattered right now though. If she didn’t escape this snare, she wouldn’t even get the chance to find out whether the male would welcome her into his pack as he had everyone else. She would never know whether he might have dealt with her problem for her, or at the very least helped her deal with it.

Carrigan would find her and would drag her back to his pack.

She pulled herself together, shunning the part of her that wanted to give up, and sat up again. The wire was slick with her blood as she bit at it, getting her fang into the loop again, twisting her body at an awkward angle in order to make another attempt at loosening it.

Only she locked up tight as she heard a noise in the distance.

Her ears twitched, flicking back and forth, her senses reaching out in all directions as her heart laboured and fear mounted inside her. Was it Carrigan? One of his men?

The warm night breeze swirled around her, carrying the scent of pine needles and damp dirt.

And male.

But the rich, earthy scent wasn’t one she recognised.

Callie looked at the wire looped around her right leg, dread pooling in her stomach. Was it the hunter come to claim his prize?

Panic seized her, fear that she was going to end up stuffed and mounted on display, or worse, her skin spread out as a rug before a fire, flooding her. She bolted into action on instinct, yelped as the wire pulled taut and cut into her flesh, reminding her she couldn’t escape. Her instincts went haywire as fear rolled through her, bringing her primal ones to the fore. In her current form, it meant her wolf ones. The instinct to survive had her wrestling against the wire and no matter how hard she tried to shut it down, she couldn’t calm herself enough to convince herself to stop trying to escape something that was inescapable.

The scent grew stronger, filling her lungs as she heard soft footsteps approaching her, and a strange calm came over her, eased her fear enough that she could think straight and wrest back control from her primal instincts. She didn’t question it, just attacked the wire again, biting at it and shaking her head, loosening it.

And it was loosening.

Callie could almost taste her freedom.

A pair of heavy black boots stepped into view.

She locked up tight, fear drumming through her veins, her heart thundering as she slowly lifted her gaze.

Taking in the mountain of a male who was striding towards her with grim purpose.

Not a wolf.

Not a hunter either.

This towering brute who looked as if he was darkness made flesh in a black fleece that stretched tight over an impossibly broad chest and jeans that hugged legs like tree trunks, with his dark hair cut close to his scalp to reveal a deep scar that darted from his left temple to the crown of his head was something else.

And the look in his cold, emotionless pale blue eyes said he wanted to kill her.

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

Felicity Heaton

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:

Posted in 2021, bear shifter romance, Black Ridge Bears, Excerpts, paranormal romance, shapeshifter romance, werewolf romance | Comments Off

Scorched by Darkness (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 18) is out now – Enter the Giveaway!

Posted on 28th April 2021 by Felicity Heaton

In case you missed it, Scorched by Darkness, the latest release in the Eternal Mates series is out now and I’ve been running a giveaway to celebrate. This giveaway closes on May 2nd, so be sure to enter it straight away so you don’t miss out on your chance to win.

Here’s more about the book, plus a link to the awesome giveaway:

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.