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February 20, 2018 Talking Tuesday – Character Q&A With Loren from the Eternal Mates Series
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First in Series
Category Archives: Unleash
A blistering wave of fire burned up his blood, setting every molecule in his body aflame, and he rolled his eyes open and arched off the bed, his mouth opening in a silent scream. Couldnâ€™t roar. If he did, Antoine would come. Antoine would see the angel. Antoine would harm her.
Snow growled low in his throat at that thought.
He would kill any who touched her.
His claws extended at the same time as his fangs, and the apartment brightened as his eyes changed, burning red around his cat-like pupils.
Snow fought harder than ever to break the restraints, driven by a mindless need to free himself so he could protect the female and by a dark hunger to drain her dry at the same time.
She rushed forwards as the collar sliced into his throat, spilling a thick stream of his blood down his neck.
â€œYou must calm yourself,â€ she whispered softly, those words laced with emotions that were beyond his grasp as the bloodlust seized hold of him again and her proximity drove him mad with a need to taste her. â€œYou are hurting yourself.â€
The note in her melodic voice told him more than she was willing to say. She couldnâ€™t bear the sight of him hurting himself. The scent of blood filled his room and, even though it was his own tainted life force, it sent him back over the edge.
â€œI am unsure how to help you.â€ She hovered close to him and he managed to get his eyes to focus on her for a brief second, long enough to see the frustration that darkened her innocent features.
Snow growled, rolled his eyes back and snarled as he pulled harder on the chains. The steel bedposts creaked under the pressure. Agony shredded his insides, liquefying his bones and stealing his strength away, leaving him helpless. He still fought like a wild thing, ferocious and vicious as he battled his restraints, hungry to escape and taste the female.
â€œSo much pain and suffering,â€ she whispered and he cursed at her again, telling her in the old language to leave him alone, hoping she would listen this time.
The need for blood became too much and he sank his fangs into his own lower lip and sucked furiously on it, ravenous and unable to stop himself.
The angel left his side and he couldnâ€™t track her. The bloodlust dulled his senses. He opened his eyes again and followed her as she paced around the room, studying her every move.
If she came close enough, he would bite her. He sucked harder on his own foul blood, imagining it was the sweet nectar that flowed in her veins. He ached for her blood even as he ached to leave her unspoiled.
She searched his room, her air desperate, small hands clenching and unclenching in front of her stomach. â€œYou must have some blood here somewhere. Where do you keep it?â€
Snow released his lip and wheezed, â€œNo useâ€¦ like ashesâ€¦ empty of life.â€
She gave him another pitying look and then her dark eyebrows rose high on her forehead, something dawning in her incredible eyes, and she approached him.
She stood beside his bed with a calm and decided expression on her face and held her arm out to him. Continue reading
No. He needed to resist.
Blinded by the pain, Snow fumbled for the wrist restraint and slammed his arm into it. The cuff whipped shut and locked automatically. After the incident with Anya and the party, Snow had asked Antoine to custom order him new restraints for his wrists, ones he would be able to close himself without any need for assistance, and therefore no need to risk the lives of those he cared about by asking them to help him.
He flopped onto his back and brought his other arm down hard. It hit only mattress. He tried again and missed the cuff for a second time.
The female foolishly moved forwards as though she wanted to assist him, and he snarled and lashed out at her with his free hand, his blunt claws swiping the air just millimetres from her stomach.
She gasped, flapped her black wings, and shot away from him, towards the mahogany panelled entrance door of his apartment. She didnâ€™t leave. Her wide luminous eyes locked on him.
Snow smacked his arm down again and hit the cuff this time, causing it to snap shut around his wrist. He breathed hard, fighting the hunger for blood and death, and swallowed. His insides burned with the need for blood, setting him aflame and pushing him to the edge of oblivion. Couldnâ€™t lose it. Not again. Not when everyone was expecting him to come down later and be around the babies.
Not when the angel was perilously close to him.
She had moved to the foot of the bed again and was staring at him with pity in her eyes.
He cursed her in the language of his homeland for that and she flinched away, her jet-black hair falling down to mask her face. Her fear reached out and curled around him, tempting him into breaking free and slaking his thirst for violence on her.
â€œFeet.â€ He forced the word out from between clenched teeth and his fangs cut into his gums, flooding his mouth with the taste of his wretched blood.
She didnâ€™t move.
Snow snarled and lashed out with his legs, hoping to show her what might happen if she was foolish enough to ignore his request.
â€œI presume angels can die?â€ he growled the words at her, throwing them like barbs in a black deadly tone. Continue reading
â€œYour bed is strange.â€ Her voice was melodic and light, a sound that curled around him and soothed his ears but not his bloodlust. That worsened, as though it despised her presence. She played havoc with it, and with him, and he was haemorrhaging patience. She pointed to the thick steel bars at the corners of his bed and the cuffs attached to them. â€œYou have strange tastes. Why?â€
Her gaze lit upon him, bright and curious, and Snow had the feeling that she was testing him for some infernal reason.
He could ignore questions too. â€œWhat do you want?â€
She walked in a shallow circle, those curious eyes flickering around everything, cataloguing it and then coming back to take every inch of him in.
â€œI want nothing,â€ she said and drifted across the room to his dressing table.
Her fingertips danced over everything on it, from the lamp to the candles, to the stack of books. She leaned forwards, cocked her head to one side, and ran her fingers down the spines. The action shifted her black wings, causing the longest feathers of the right one to graze the floor.
She straightened and turned back to face him. â€œI felt you suffering again and was unable to ignore it, even though I know I should have this time.â€
Snow frowned. â€œYou were here with meâ€¦ before. It was you.â€
She nodded and walked towards him, her steps so light even he couldnâ€™t hear them. She twirled her black hair around the fingers of her left hand and smiled at him. It hit him square in the chest and knocked the wind out of him.
â€œIf you were hereâ€¦ then you know why my bed is the way that it is, and why I must chain myself. So why did you ask?â€ He growled the question, growing tired of her cryptic behaviour.
â€œI was curious to know what you would tell me.â€ She wrapped her small hands around one of the steel posts at the end of his bed and leaned her shoulder against it.
Snow didnâ€™t like that she had seen him in the throes of his bloodlust, but he was beginning to share her sense of curiosity. â€œWhy are you hereâ€¦ and why did you sing to me?â€
A pretty blush coloured her flawless pale cheeks. â€œYou remember?â€
Wasnâ€™t he supposed to have remembered? Evidently, she hadnâ€™t expected him to recall that someone had been in his room, singing him to sleep, speaking to him in a language that hadnâ€™t left his lips in close to one thousand years before he had awoken to find Antoine watching over him.
She didnâ€™t tell him why she was here. She pushed away from the post and twirled so her back was to him, the white layers of her dress spinning outwards to reveal the outline of her shapely legs beneath. Snow barely bit back the growl that rumbled up his throat at the sight of her long slender legs.
Her black wings shifted and stretched, almost spanning his room before settling against her back again.
â€œI do not enjoy your choice of decor,â€ she said in a bright tone and looked over her shoulder, past her black wing to him. â€œIt is morbid. Mortals would call it depressing.â€
Snow folded his arms across his chest. â€œYou know that I am not mortal, and I feel this decor suits me and this place.â€
He smiled slowly. Desire to make her blush again so he could see it shot through him.
â€œYou must know the sort of business I run with the others here, and the sort of creature I am.â€
â€œI do not care.â€ She twirled to face him, affording him another glimpse of long legs that would have made him blush if he hadnâ€™t been in perfect control of himself.
â€œAgain, female, why are you here?â€ If she didnâ€™t answer this time, he might leave the bed, grab her shoulders and shake the answer out of her. Continue reading
Snow lumbered across his room, bare feet thumping against the wooden floor, and dumped the black linen beside his bed. He stripped the soiled covers off and focused on replacing them with fresh ones to keep his mind off a topic that had often angered him.
He had warred with himself many times about finding a female, debating the pros and cons of such a mission, and all the possible outcomes. It was highly likely that a female would leave him the moment she discovered the ugly truth about him, his bloodlust, and his horrific past.
He would probably react to her betrayal by losing his head to bloodlust and killing her.
He had a tendency to react violently whenever someone sought to hurt him.
Breaking his heart would cause him the ultimate pain.
Snow shook that thought away and smoothed the edges of his black covers down, neatening them. He grabbed his black robe and slung it on, but didnâ€™t bother to fasten the belt.
Darkness swirled inside him like a rising tide that he was powerless to hold back. He breathed slowly, trying to work past the tightening knot in his breast, hoping to calm down before he lost himself again.
He sat on the bed and lay with his back against the pillows and his head against the steel bars of the headboard. He cast a glance at the restraints that rested on the pillows on either side of him. They were there if he needed them and that gave him back a fraction of his control, but didnâ€™t quell his rising bloodlust.
His heart galloped, refusing to heed his attempts to slow it, and he closed his eyes and focused on positive things. The battle between his darker hungers and his desire to remain sane intensified and he breathed harder, drawing deep and filling his lungs with cool air. The soft scent of lilies and snow lingered in that air and his mind drifted to the lyrics of the song.
Calm swept through him, driving back the darkness for a brief second before it surged forwards again, obliterating the sense of peace.
A breeze washed over his bare flesh.
Snow frowned. There were no windows in his room. The breeze carried the unmistakable scent of snow yet it felt warm, and familiar.
Someone was in his apartment. He felt their presence as a soft caress that reached right down to his tainted soul and chased the black shadows from it.
Snow drew in a deeper breath of lily of the valley and snow, the pure feminine scent stirring his body and soothing the tension from it. He held it in his lungs and slowly opened his eyes, settling them directly on the dark beauty standing at the foot of his bed.
She was stunning, with a fall of glossy raven hair that playfully curled around slender shoulders and contrasted against her milky skin, heart-shaped rosy lips, a button nose, and the most incredible yet familiar eyes. They were turquoise around the outside but faded to a brilliant blue at their centres, around the dark mesmerising chasms of her pupils.
A pure white dress clung to dangerous curves and full breasts that would make any manâ€™s eyes linger on her, evoking images in his head that he shouldnâ€™t entertain but couldnâ€™t keep at bay. He had never seen a female like her.
The white layers of her dress criss-crossed over her torso, forming a zigzagging line downwards from between the swell of her creamy breasts to the point above her navel. They flowed from there, free and untamed, drifting down to caress her ankles and her small bare feet.
It was the large black wings furled against her back that eventually stole his attention away from the sublime innocence of her face and the wickedness of her body.
An angel. Continue reading
Snow ducked his head under the hot spray of water and closed his eyes as it soaked through his hair, washing away the shampoo.
He braced his hands against the black tiles in front of him in the double-width shower stall and hung his head forwards, letting the water hit his nape and cascade over his back. The heat soothed the last remnants of tightness from his muscles.
He had worked out in his apartment after Antoine had gone, putting his body through its paces to try to bring himself back to full strength, and had needed this shower. It completed the therapeutic and almost ritualistic process of putting the past three weeks out of his mind by erasing the evidence stamped on his bodyâ€”the weakness, the bloodstains, and the fatigue. He always felt better afterwards. Almost normal.
Snow opened his pale blue eyes and stared at his feet. Rivulets streamed from the tips of his white hair and his chin and nose, catching the light and sparkling as they fell to the tray far below.
His lips parted and he sighed. Working out had felt good but a shower was always the best medicine after an extended period of captivity. It revitalised him, leaving him feeling alive and awake, and at peace.
He had already scrubbed himself from head to toe twice over, paying close attention to his wrists and ankles.
Snow straightened, the water beating on his broad bare chest, and removed one hand from the wall. He turned his palm upwards and stared down at his scarred wrist.
The marks would fade in time, his preternatural healing taking care of them and leaving smooth skin behind. They were always chafed though, permanent evidence that he had to spend his days wearing leather-lined steel cuffs attached to inch-thick chains that were secured to the industrial grade steel posts at the corners of his bed.
When they had first moved to the theatre, he had forced Antoine to purchase the strongest, thickest metal posts he could find and make a bed out of them for him. Antoine had protested but had done as he had asked in the end, arranging for the restraints at the same time.
His younger brother had told him countless times that he didnâ€™t need to chain himself each day, and Snow had always countered that it was necessary and he did not mind it.
He did. He hated it.
That was beside the point though.
It was necessary, and ever since that fateful night centuries ago, he had always done whatever was necessary to protect others from himself.
Snow heaved a sigh, his chest expanding with it, powerful muscles straining, and ran his hand down his face.
Pain. Blinding. Debilitating. Sickening. Pain.
It rocked every inch of him. Throbbed deep in his marrow. Lived inside him and refused to die, no matter how hard he struggled to contain and obliterate it.
There was peace too though, a strange sense of calm and warmth that felt as though it was trying to subdue the pain and drive it away. There was also a weird notion that he hadnâ€™t been alone.
Snowâ€™s head thumped the hardest, fiery lightning splintering across his skull and causing his eyes to ache. He opened them a sliver but the light pierced them, increasing his agony, and he screwed them shut again. He tried to rub the salt and grit from his eyes and grimaced when steel cuffs bit into his wrists, causing sharp lances to jab across them.
His ankles blazed too.
He managed to crack his eyes open enough that he could see his wrists. Shackled and scarred. Multiple lacerations. Dried and fresh blood.
Snow focused on them and his body, taking mental note of any injuries and how weak he felt, trying to gauge how long he had been chained to his bed. Possibly a few days. His senses came fully back online.
He wasnâ€™t alone.
His gaze slid painfully down to the male sitting in the wooden chair beside him to his right.
The vampire raged in his sleep.
His bare torso bowed off the mattress and his powerful muscles strained as he pulled at the heavy cuffs chaining him to the steel posts of the large bed.
When they didnâ€™t give, he thrashed his long muscular legs, pulling the black covers down and revealing more of him to her eyes, including the start of a colourful tattoo on his right hip. The lower half of it disappeared beneath his black underwear. She couldnâ€™t make out the design from this distance and refused to give in to the temptation to move closer.
She shouldnâ€™t be here.
Her master would be angry with her if he discovered she had left her post to be here, unable to keep away.
Snow snarled and twisted his arms in the thick steel and leather restraints, reopening the ragged marks around his wrists and spilling fresh blood. He had been lost to his bloodlust for many weeks now and a few days ago, things had taken a sharp downwards turn, plunging him into the darkest throes of his curse, far worse than any she had witnessed before.
What did he dream to make him turn so violent and wild? Continue reading
Happy New Year – Looking back at 2013 – Four paranormal romance novels, a USA Today best-seller, and a milestone of 500000 books sold
Happy New Year! I hope that you had a wonderful 2013 and a fantastic start to 2014.
I can’t believe that it’s already another year. Where did 2013 go? It seemed to fly by for me and now I’m sitting here pondering what I did in 2013.
I released four novels, which for me is lower than my normal output but some of those novels were long and hard work! I wrapped up the Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series with Bewitch in January and then Unleash in May. I took a trip to Hell and into the world of Asmodeus in Her Wicked Angel, the sixth book in the Her Angel romance series. And, I returned to the world of the Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series in the first novel in the Eternal Mates romance series, Kissed by a Dark Prince.
I became a USA Today best-seller thanks to my amazing readers and five awesome writers: Caris Roane, Laurie London, Jennifer Ashley, Erin Kellison and Bonnie Vanak. Our sales of the Dark and Dangerous Boxed Set of 6 Hot Paranormal Romance Books were astounding and it was a thrill-ride to say the least. Achieving that USA Today best-seller status was mind-blowing and something I really hope to recreate in 2014.
I also reached a milestone with my books. Around two weeks ago, I realised that I had sold over 500,000 copies of my English language paranormal romance books since January 1st 2011. 500,000 books in three years is wonderful for any author and I am flabbergasted that I managed to hit that milestone so quickly. Again, it’s all thanks to you, my readers. I can’t do this without your support, your kind words, and your voracious appetites for sexy, action-packed paranormal romance books! In top of the 500,000 ebooks sold, I’ve also given away around 500,000 ebooks in my often occuring rampages of giving books away to repay my readers for being so wonderful.
I’m not sure what 2014 has in store for me, but I do know it includes five new releases, and hopefully as many wonderful experiences as I have had this year!
As a thank you, I’m offering eight of my books at a discount right now (starting at $0.99 / 99p) and four for free. You can find all the details and links at: http://www.felicityheaton.com/paranormal-romance-ebook-offers.php
Did you have a fabulous 2013, and what are your plans for 2014?
Snow glanced up into her eyes and lingered, the red around the edges of his irises fading and the darkness lifting. Sorrow replaced it, but mixed in with that sombre emotion were others. Warmer ones that gained ground the longer he looked up at her, obliterating the pain until it was gone and only they remained, filling his beautiful eyes with a look that verged on tender.
Aurora breathed slowly, fighting to steady herself, battling to resist the urges that look in Snowâ€™s eyes awakened in her. It would be all too easy to surrender to the pressing need to touch him and feel the coolness of his skin beneath her fingertips. From there it would be but a step to lean down and bring her lips to his.
And then she would be lost forever.
Snow would claim all of her with that one simple kiss. She would lose her objectivity, and most likely her heart, and it would become impossible to bring herself to judge him with clear eyes.
Sensual Sunday – Excerpt from Unleash (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 6) plus FREE ebook
Sensual Sunday is brought to you today by Unleash, which is the sixth book in my popular Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series. Sensual Sunday’s always feature a hot excerpt from one of my paranormal romance books. Read on for this Sunday’s sensual snippet…
Aurora held her hand out to him and he locked the door and stalked back towards her, the sensual shift of his body with each step rekindling the embers of the fire he had ignited in her veins.
She let the black covers fall away from her and met him at the edge of the bed. There was something she had wanted to do to him ever since he had revealed the full design of his tattoo to her. He stopped before her and she didnâ€™t hesitate. She caught the waist of his black trunks above his right hip and pulled the soft material down, exposing the full length of his ink.
Aurora leaned in and ran her tongue over it.
Snow growled, grasped her arms, and pulled her up onto her feet. She wobbled on the mattress. He tugged her closer to him until his body pressed flush against hers and his arms caged her like steel bands, and tilted his head back.