Monday, September 30, 2013

Guest Author: Felicity Heaton

It’s great to be here at Lynda’s blog to talk about my new release, Her Wicked Angel, which is the sixth in my Her Angel romance series.

I’m going to be sharing an excerpt from the book with you today, but I also wanted to let you know that I’m celebrating the release by giving away the first book in the series, Her Dark Angel, for FREE at selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books and Apple iBookstore sites.

FREE EBOOK: You can find all the links for the Her Dark Angel free ebook offer (and two other free paranormal romance ebooks) at:

Here’s more about Her Wicked Angel, including an excerpt from this long angel romance novel.

Her Wicked Angel
Felicity Heaton The King of Demons and the Devil’s right hand man, Asmodeus is a dark angel born of evil and created for destruction. When his master orders him to venture into the mortal world and retrieve a female for him, he seizes the chance to leave Hell for the first time, uncaring of what the Devil has planned for her… until he sets eyes on the most beautiful woman he has ever seen—a female who awakens new feelings within his black heart, unleashing passion so intense that it controls him and desire he cannot resist.

He will not let his wretched master have her. She will belong to him.

Liora is a witch with a bad reputation and an obsession with fighting demons. A mission gone wrong sees her sent to Paris to cool off, but when a dark and deadly warrior with a gaze of golden fire lands in her life, she ends up burning hotter than Hell for the wicked angel. Nothing will stand between her and the immense, forbidding male. Not her cousin. Not Asmodeus’s sworn enemy and twin, Apollyon. And certainly not the Devil.

Caught up in a tempest of danger and soul-searing passion, can they survive against the odds and seize their forever after?

Her Wicked Angel is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and many other retailers. Also available in paperback. Find the links to your preferred retailer at:

Her Wicked Angel – Excerpt

Liora stared deep into the incredible swirling gold depths of Asmodeus’s eyes. She had countless reasons not to trust him, but she couldn’t bring herself to listen to them or her head where he was concerned.

The moment she had set eyes on him, loitering under the Eiffel Tower, looking as though he was contemplating tearing through the crowd with claw and fang, a current had run through her, setting her heart racing. She could sense the darkness in him, the incredible evil that flowed in his veins, but in the background, she could feel a faint glimmer of good. That tiny sliver had given her the courage to speak with him.

She had wanted to know him.

Her picture of him had been as incomplete as his armour before today. She had found out about him when she had overheard her cousin talking with Apollyon and they had realised she had been hiding in the hallway of their apartment, listening in. She had pressed Apollyon to tell her about Asmodeus.

Apollyon had painted a bleak picture of his counterpart, telling her that Asmodeus was pure evil, without a shred of good in him. Had he lied to her and to Serenity?

Liora looked at Asmodeus again, recalling how Apollyon often referred to him as a creature, as if he didn’t deserve angelic, demonic or even human status.

As if he were an animal.

Something below their level.

There was darkness in him, she couldn’t deny that or the fact that the evil he harboured had come to the surface at times and the strength of it had shocked her enough to make her reconsider her desire to know more about him.

He wasn’t an animal though.

She couldn’t view him like that. He was as real as Apollyon and her too.

He was intelligent, powerful, and felt warm beneath her fingers. She had caught the flickers of true emotions in him. He had been shocked, dismayed and even offended by her questions and her observations so far. Her behaviour had intrigued, and possibly confused him.

He felt things.

He wasn’t as Apollyon painted him at all. Did Apollyon really know Asmodeus?

Had he never witnessed this side of his twin?

It was likely that Asmodeus had never had reason to reveal this side of himself to Apollyon. They had probably ended up locked in battle whenever they had come across each other.

He had revealed it to her though. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that she liked it. She liked being around him and seeing how she affected him. It fascinated her.

“Rose?” The heavily-accented male voice jolted her and her heart skipped a beat, shock running through her blood at the sudden intrusion into her quiet moment with Asmodeus.

A young man offered a bunch of plastic-wrapped single red roses to her and then to Asmodeus and she lifted her hand from Asmodeus’s face, meaning to refuse the street vendor.

“Rose?” The man smiled at Asmodeus and then held his free hand out in her direction.

All Hell broke loose.

Asmodeus growled, his top lip peeling back to reveal short fangs, and her stomach turned. The rise in the flow of power he constantly emitted was swift and startling, a crushing force that pressed down on her. His hand shot out and he grasped the vendor by his throat, yanking him away from her.

Liora’s eyes flew wide as Asmodeus’s golden irises brightened and then turned red. Not a normal colour and she wasn’t sure he could hide that change with a glamour.

The man choked and dropped his roses. He smashed his hands against Asmodeus’s bare arm and clawed at his fingers. Asmodeus grinned, his eyes narrowing darkly on the man, and began to squeeze. The man gasped, his eyes watered, and the veins in his temples popped to the surface as he turned red.

Liora pushed through shocked and straight into horrified. She leaped between them, shoving Asmodeus back and seizing his arm that held the man at the same time. Asmodeus snarled when she sent fire to her palm, singeing his flesh, and pinned her with a black, vicious glare as he released the man.

The man collapsed onto the grass.

“I’m so sorry.” Liora dropped to her knees and tried to check him over but he swatted at her, his fear and panic spiking.

He scrambled around, grabbing his roses, and she tried to lay her hand on him so she could heal his throat, but he shoved her in the chest and caught her off balance. Her backside hit the dirt and she could only stare as he broke into a dead run in the opposite direction to her and Asmodeus, heading for the towering trees that lined the edges of the park.

The oppressive wave of Asmodeus’s power only grew worse and wind gusted against her, the longest of his black feathers appearing in the edges of her vision as he beat his wings. Hell, no. She was not about to let him fly after the innocent street vendor and terrorise him. Not on her watch.

Liora shot to her feet, turning at the same time, and threw everything she had into her swing. Her palm connected hard with his left cheek, the slap ringing loudly across the area and drawing more attention to them than Asmodeus had when he had attacked that poor man for no good reason.

His head snapped to his right, his wild black hair falling down over his brow. The dark slashes of his eyebrows met in a scowl and his jaw tensed as he growled.

“You deserved that.” Liora drew in a deep breath to steady her racing heart and hoped she hadn’t just pushed this immense, extremely powerful male over the edge. The force of the power he emanated wasn’t growing weaker. If anything, it was getting stronger, and darker.

His red eyes slowly opened and locked on her, and he rose to his full height, towering a good eight inches taller than she was. He spread his black wings and bared his fangs at her, and it took every ounce of her will to stop her from backing off a step. She stood her ground, her knees trembling, and reconsidered her whole opinion of Asmodeus.

He was evil and dangerous, and as violent and cruel as Apollyon had said.

But there was still good in him.

The red in his eyes faded as he stared down at her, his bare chest heaving with each deep breath, and his expression slowly changed at the same time as the pressing force of his power lessened. Gold broke through crimson, his eyebrows relaxed, his jaw slackened and his breathing slowed to a steady tempo.

“Never strike me again, Female.” Those words were a vicious growl that told her he was serious and that there would be a dire consequence if she ignored his warning.

“Noted.” She brushed imaginary lint off her black jeans, unable to bring herself to look at him while he was staring at her as if he was still considering punishing her for raising a hand against him. “You were being an arse though. He only wanted to make a couple of euro selling you a rose for me.”

He huffed. “Noted… I am not accustomed to people selling me anything.”

Liora tried not to smile inside at that. “Where have you been all your life that no one has ever tried to sell you anything?”

“In Hell.” His deadpan tone made her lift her gaze from her jeans to his to see if he was serious.

He had never looked more serious.

“You’re telling me you’ve never left Hell?” Liora knew she sounded a little backward having to ask that but she wanted to be sure she wasn’t mistaken.

He nodded and preened his huge black wings. “I have never left Hell before now.”

Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “Am I the first mortal you’ve met?”

He shook his head and kept his eyes downcast, his long black lashes shuttering them so she couldn’t read them at all. She didn’t need to see them in order to know why he was only offering her a shake of his head as a reply, rather than an explanation.

He had lived in Hell for his whole life. Any mortals he had met must have been taken there for some terrible reason and Asmodeus had been the one to deal with them, or had at least watched someone else do the work.

Liora looked him over, trying to see him for all that he was and telling herself all the terrible things he had probably done in the years he had been alive, in Hell, working for his master.

Apollyon had told her that Asmodeus shared his blood, and that he himself had been created for destruction and violence. If Apollyon had been brought into this world in order to rain destruction down upon mortals, and everyone could view him as good and kind, then she had to at least try to give Asmodeus the chance his twin had been offered.

She had to discover whether there was good in him or whether she had been imagining it.

“Would you have killed the street vendor if I hadn’t stopped you?” She managed to keep the tremble out of her voice as she asked, afraid of what his response would be because part of her already knew the answer to that question.

Asmodeus drew in a deep breath, his broad bare chest expanding with it, tipped his chin up and stared down at her, no trace of guilt in his eyes. “Yes.”

“Why?” She swallowed to wet her dry throat and shift the lump from it.

He had to have a reason. He wasn’t a mindless killing machine for the Devil, not like Apollyon said he was. She had seen his keen intelligence and his feelings playing out in his eyes. There was good in him. There was reasoning and calculation behind his every action. He had a reason for attacking the man. He had to have one.

Asmodeus lifted his hand between them, flexed his fingers and then lowered it back to his side. He stared off to his right, into the distance beyond her, and was quiet for so long that she feared he would never answer and she would never know the truth of him.

She wanted to see beyond the name and the stories, and the things she had been told, to the real Asmodeus. The one she had glimpsed earlier before he had locked it down and brought his guard back up.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head a fraction. “I thought he meant to harm you.”

Her hazel eyes widened.

Asmodeus frowned and clenched his fists at his sides. “I felt you tense and heard your heart jump, and your power flared. You were scared. I only meant to remove the source of your fear.”

He had been protecting her.

Liora glanced skywards to give herself a moment to absorb the revelation. This powerful male that everyone told her was cruel and evil, and had no good in him, had wanted to protect her. It was all the proof she needed that there was a sliver of good in him and it reinforced her desire to know more about him.

The sun was setting though and that meant more rose sellers and people around the Eiffel Tower to see it as it lit up. If she wanted to continue her time with Asmodeus, she would need to take him somewhere it would get quieter, not busier.

She dropped her gaze to his. “Will you fly me somewhere?”

Her Wicked Angel is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and many other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Find all the links, a fantastic 6 chapter downloadable sample of the book at:

Books in the Her Angel romance series:

Find out more about the Her Angel series at Goodreads:

About Felicity Heaton:

Felicity Heaton writes passionate paranormal romance books as Felicity Heaton and F E Heaton. 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, Felicity Heaton’s best selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series she writes as F E Heaton or any of her stand alone vampire romance books she writes as Felicity Heaton. Or if you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try Felicity Heaton’s new Vampire Erotic Theatre series.

In 2011, five of her six paranormal romance books received Top Pick awards from Night Owl Reviews, Forbidden Blood was nominated as Best PNR Vampire Romance 2011 at The Romance Reviews, and many of her releases received five star reviews from numerous websites.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:


Thursday, September 26, 2013

New Kismet Short Story: Sex in a Coffin

Here's a little nibble from Kismet's world to hold you over until the USA version of book #3 [Crimson Psyche] arrives. I don't know when that will be yet, but the UK version publishes January 2, 2014.

But in the meantime:

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Guest Blogger: Terry Spear

Ghost Orbs in Savannah?

Ghost Orbs in front of a wall??? Or just something on the camera. All the other pictures were totally clear.

When we were in Savannah, Georgia, I took pictures of the walls and fretwork in some of the old buildings that were "haunted." We were on a ghost hunting tour--paranormal equipment, you know--the usual. Ghost light detectors, phones set on ghost tracking where it pops up with words and it doesn't matter that the words reoccur no matter where you are in Savannah, and you can have a ghost standing right beside you. It occurs with such regularity, you know you're being stalked. Temperature readers. All that great ghost hunting stuff.

I mentioned to the tour guide that it was like Jurassic Park. The dinosaurs can't be kept on a schedule where they appear at regular intervals just for the tourists. :) I've witnessed paranormal events, but it was always so unexpected, not something that was "forced." I don't think she appreciated what I said. LOL

Anyway, so we had lights that changed colors when "entities" were in the local vicinity, changes in temps--yeah, yeah, so there was air conditioning seeping out of the window of a building right next to the walkway where it was sooooo hot. Hmm-hmm.

Finding ghostly entities with ghost lights.

And yes, the entities came to a particular spot on the floor. They were kids, because guess what? When you raised the ghost alert meter, it would lose the signal. So had to be a kid. Right. Not electrical something in the floor???

But it was fun playing along with Bonnie Gill, as the ghost hunter spoke to all the ghosts and asked them yes and no questions and they answered with red and green lights. Bonnie was playing the game, good cop/bad cop scenario. I was the Doubting Thomas, but still looking for my own ghosts that were not part of the paranormal tour woowoo. :)

This was NOT on the ghost tour, and it was an antique shop with a wickedly evil looking Italian bench. Bonnie only got a picture of a haze where the bench should be. The little evil looking figure in the center had green glowing eyes on her picture. But my closeup of him was fine.

But my camera picked up ghost orbs when hers just showed fog. Different pattern entirely from the first picture above at the haunted building showing ghost orbs. And all the rest of my pictures were clear. I always figure something's on my lenses, but how come everything else was clear? Yes, yes, I've heard that they could be dust particles. But these were the only two pictures that came out like this.

So what do you think? Ghostly orbs, or just the lighting in the building somehow capturing nifty balls of dust??? Ever experienced something—paranormal?

Leave a comment below to be in the giveway for a signed copy of Legend of the White Wolf and a jaguar print pencil to US or Canada address only.

"Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy IS reality."

Can an Alpha Wolf Who's Met His Match...

Navy SEAL Bjornolf Jorgenson has had tough missions before, but going undercover with feisty gray wolf Anna Johnson could top the list. She drives him crazy—in more ways than one. Now he has to investigate a murder, supervise a wild teenage wolf—and handle Christmas with Anna.
Survive the Holidays with Her?

For Anna, the only thing worse than staging the perfect family Christmas is having to do it with Bjornolf posing as her husband. Anna is a serious undercover operative who isn't afraid of a fight, even with a hunky SEAL shifter. With a killer on the loose, Anna just wants to focus on their mission, but the one thing she can't fight is her sizzling chemistry with Bjornolf.

Praise for USA Today bestseller A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing:

"A nonstop, action-packed romance with kick, growls, and sexy attitude."—Long and Short Reviews

"A delightful and tantalizing read...You'll be captivated."—Thoughts in Progress

"Edgy characters, lots of loving, and lots of action. Just about as good as it gets!"—The Book Binge


USA Today bestselling author Terry Spear has written over fifty paranormal romance novels and medieval Highland historical romances. In 2008 Heart of the Wolf was named a Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year. A retired officer of the U.S. Army Reserves, Terry also creates award-winning teddy bears that have found homes all over the world. She lives in Crawford, Texas. For more information, please visit, follow her on Twitter, @TerrySpear, and like her on Facebook, and follow the pack at:

To Purchase A SEAL Wolf Christmas:


Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Guest Blogger: Beth Barany

My Love of Magic and the Power of the Land

I love stories that involve magic and magical creatures, especially if they are about women stepping into their power, and into a reality where ultimately love makes everything better.

In my mind the world is much stranger than we think. As our understanding of the world has grown, mostly through science and exploration, what we believe is real has changed radically over the centuries.

In my “Touchstone of Love” novella I play with time travel and magic, and the power of the land. According to the laws of today’s physics, time travel is not forbidden, just not at all understood, testable, or observed. Yet theoretically we could time travel. How cool is that? I like to explore what my heroine’s life would be like if she were thrown back into thirteenth century France, and confronted with the daily life, and magic.

In my stories, I also play with magic. And just like in our world, with electricity, magic is not entirely understood but can be manipulated. I like playing with the unintended consequences of magic and the “what ifs” that arise with my characters meddle, often unconsciously, with magic.

In my novella, “Touchstone of Love” in the collection Gargoyle: Three Enchanting Romance Novellas, I’m also hinting at the power of magic that is steeped in stone and in the earth. I’m borrowing from ancient wisdoms, mostly lost in the mists of time, of the earth’s ley lines and power centers. My story centers on the building of a cathedral in a town north of Paris. I believe that all cathedrals in France were built upon ancient, probably goddess worship or druid power centers. Having visited many such sites in France, I’ve felt the power of the stone and the land. The research I’ve done, especially for Notre Dame of Paris has hinted at the fact that it was a center of annual druid ritual.

For me, the paranormal is what is outside the accepted realms of “normal,” difficult to explain or rationalize, yet real, felt, and experienced. In some of my stories, like in Henrietta The Dragon Slayer, a young adult epic fantasy, magic is a part of that world, manipulated by adepts, though hardly understood by the common people, and even sometimes feared or banned. In my romance, magic may not be a part of the world, but is manipulated and used by a hidden few. I like the mystery of magic, and playing with the rules of magic. My modern-day heroine in “Touchstone of Love” must use magic even though she doesn’t understand it.

What would you do if you could use magic? Or, better yet, were magic?

I’ll be giving away one e-book (international) or print copy (US only) of Gargoyle: Three Enchanting Romance Novellas and a $10 Amazon gift card to those who comment below about what you would do if you were magic. Lynda will pick a winner in a week.


The mysterious lives of gargoyles. They don’t just hang out on buildings. They right wrongs. They wreak havoc. And they change the lives of unsuspecting people who never see them coming.

ON A WING AND A PRAYER BY Kay Keppler (Humorous Contemporary)

The hero...

Craig knows that Bea is in trouble. But Craig can’t do anything about it—because he’s a garden gargoyle and Bea can’t hear his warnings. When unexpected visitors arrive to help, Craig finds the power he had all along. Now the neighborhood will never be the same.

TOUCHSTONE OF LOVE by Beth Barany (Time Travel)

The touchstone...

When a thunderstorm transports software expert Rose Waldman to thirteenth century France, she meets hunky stonemason Julien, who is secretly creating a gargoyle in defiance of his master mason. Can independent gadget loving Rose trust her life and heart to Julien, and can she really never go home again?

THE MILLER’S DAUGHTER BY Patricia Simpson (Historical)

And the freak just trying to get along...

Sentenced to burn at the stake for sorcery, Merofled volunteers to help jaded warrior Alaric kill a gargoyle that threatens her village. But Merofled soon discovers the gargoyle is not a monster at all. It’s a misfit just like her. Can she persuade Alaric to spare the gargoyle–and herself?


Julien of Beauvais stomped through the edge of town, through the fields and the stormy dark. He didn’t care about the wet and wind. He needed to find peace, he needed to find inspiration. It was time that he showed Master Stonemason Bernard de Chantilly all of his skill and artistry and present his master work to the community and get his approval, even if the master stonemason said Julien could not present his work at Michaelmas in five days.

The master stonemason didn’t like him and had not allowed him to present the previous year. But this year would be his. It was time he showed Master Bernard that he was ready to become a master mason and travel as a free man. His training was complete. He’d become a journeyman and done a short trip to Paris with Master Bernard a few years ago. Yet, most men at his age of twenty-six years had already started their own houses and were busy at work on the new cathedrals sprouting all over France.

He wanted to travel to Amiens, or Rennes, and direct his own house, with a woman at his side, and his own apprentices, and a passel of children. The time was now. His time. Oblivious to the cold and the wet, Julien stomped through the field in anger.

Not only was Master Stonemason Bernard a barrier to his dreams, but so was also Marie-Jeanne, his intended. She’d betrayed him with that farm boy from the count’s household. How was he going to create a home when his betrothed was ready to run off with another?

That was why, in his anger, he’d messed up the day’s stone carving work and had been relegated to sorting and breaking granite blocks for the other apprentices.

The rain pelted his face as Julien stumbled over something. He lost his footing and slipped to his knees. He put out his hands to brace himself and felt something soft. Soft and warm.

As gently as he could, as if he were handling a new-born lamb back at his parents’ farm, he felt for the shape of the soft and warm, and unmistakably touched a breast. A woman fallen in the fields. In the cloudy night with no light of the moon or stars, he reached out to learn more about her. She was alive by the warmth of her, and by the strong pulse at her throat, and not long outdoors, as her skin wasn’t completely chilled. He couldn’t leave her, so he scooped up her unconscious, naked form and headed for his workshop hidden in a copse of chestnut trees outside the walls of the town.

Once inside his small workshop, he stoked the fire under the cook pot. He rushed to cover her with his blanket and rubbed the hands and feet of the woman, something he’d seen the old midwife do to women who sometimes fainted in the fields. The woman breathed deeply, but remained asleep.

She was naked, curved in all the right places. Clearly well fed, luscious, but quite improperly dressed for a fall night, as if she’d been bathing and wandered off from her task.

Maybe she was under some spell that made her sleep. While he was a god-fearing man, and worshipped Mother Mary, he knew magic was in the land. He felt it when he worked the stone every day, but never talked about it.

The woman appeared calm, even peaceful as she slept. Definitely a woman, not a girl. Her long golden locks had come loose from her tie. She had rosy cheeks, pink lips, an angular nose, and a long column of a throat. Her chest rose and fell with even breaths.

What color were her eyes? He pulled the wool blanket up under her chin, and tucked it around her body to keep her warm. A tiny waist, a warm shapely rump, long legs, strong feet—he noticed all that as he chastely tucked the blanket around her. He’d noticed that her palms were strong, with callused, long fingers, almost as big as his. She must be a farmhand from a neighboring village, but he didn’t recognize her.

She was almost angelic in how she slept. His troubles forgotten, he made for his worktable on the other side of the one-room shed and picked up his chisel.

He’d found the inspiration he needed to start his work of art.


Award-winning author, Beth Barany has been making up fantasy and adventure stories all her life. She writes magical tales of romance and adventure for women and girls to transport them to new worlds where anything is possible. To learn more about Beth and her fiction, and sign up for her newsletter, visit her site:

BUY LINK: Amazon (international):