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Friday, September 28, 2012

My Highland Love: Sexy Excerpt!


Elise Kingston is a wanted woman. Nothing, not even Highlander Marcus MacGregor, will stop her from returning home to ensure that the man responsible for her daughter's death hangs.

Until she must choose between his life and her revenge.

Political intrigue, lust, and secrets are what drive the relationship between Elise Landen,America shipping heiress, and Marcus MacGregor, the Marquess of Ashlund and leader of his clan. Neither know the other’s true identity…until it’s too late.

That’s what love does, blinds a person.


Marcus's chest tightened. She hadn't denied loving him. He gently squeezed her hand. "I am not Riley."
Elise twisted in his arms in an earnest attempt at escape. "You overstep your bounds, milord."
He barely repressed a sudden laugh when she thumped his arm with a small fist. She shoved at his chest and Marcus hugged her so close their lips almost met.

"Surely, I have proven I am not faithless," he demanded.

"Faithless? Good Lord, you're lucky I don't sacrifice you for my own selfishneeds."
"Needs? Aye, lass, you need me. Nay," he added when she opened her mouth to interject. "Don't think I am ignorant of your needs." He slid a hand into her hair. "They are not unlike my own."

Marcus kissed her. She breathed deep and he felt his body throb with a need that he now realized had only begun to surface. What would he have done that first day he saw her in the meadow had he known just how badly he would one day need her? Send his men away and take her there—leave her no choice, nowhere to go but to him? Turning and fleeing straight back to Ashlund would have been the wisest course of action. But he would not have—could not have—even then. He had loved—or thought he loved—other women. He had been hurt in the past, but Elise held the power to destroy him. He slid his mouth down her chin and along her neck to the swell of her breast. Her head fell back onto his arm without resistance.

"You would marry a stranger?" she murmured.

Marcus froze.

"Take a lowly servant girl to wife."

He jerked his head up. "I wouldn't relegate anyone to that status, least of all, you."

Her eyes unexpectedly softened. "I know, but that doesn't change the differences in our classes."

"I care nothing for so-called classes. I care about living life.
"Her expression turned appraising. 
"Even you did not flout that responsibility. Didn't you marry out of a sense of duty?"

"Aye. Which is precisely why I will not do so again."

Marcus crushed her lips to his. She didn't protest this time, and he slid her from his lap and onto the couch. Grasping her hand, he slipped it beneath his kilt and forced her fingers around his erection.

Elise started.

"Nay," he breathed in her ear. "Do not run from me. God, you haunt me at every turn.Releasing her fingers, he yanked her dress up and reached between her legs. "Your body responds to me without reservation. Let your heart follow. I promise, I will love you."

He slipped a finger inside her slick heat. Her grip on his shaft tightened convulsively. Marcus drew in a sharp breath, gritting his teeth to keep from spending himself. He removed his hand and slid on top of her, pressing his lips against her ear.

"Guide me into you, sweet," he whispered. "Let me show you how much I want you. Let me show you what love is."

She did as he urged, and he caressed her with his movements, his body meeting hers, arching away, then gently thrusting again.

"Is marrying me so terrible?" he asked against her neck.

She breathed deep. "No, but after the fact you"—she gasped when he thrust with a quick motion—"you will regret being chained to me."

Marcus laughed. "It will be the sweetest of tortures." He drove deep again.

She cried out as her muscles clenched around him.

"It's not as if you need to marry me." She blurted in a strained voice. "I have not withheld myself from you."

Marcus halted. Bracing a hand on either side of her, he looked down at her. "I love you. I want you—need you." He held her gaze as he moved slowly, nearly filling her, then thrust quickly and pulled back.

"I haven't left you," she insisted.

"You withhold a part of yourself. If not, you would be dragging me to the altar."

Elise reddened.

"You don't trust me." He kissed her ear.

She shook her head. "I cannot believe we are having this discussion in the middle of… that is, I can't believe we are-are doing this in the middle of a disagreement."

Marcus chuckled. "'Tis a new experience for me, as well. But, if we must disagree, this is a most pleasant way to do so." He slid his hands beneath her thighs, coaxing her legs around his waist. "Aye." He buried his face in her hair at the nape of her neck and drove into her. "I will protect you." He cupped a breast—she was breathing hard now, she wanted him—needed him.

He thrust quicker. Her breathless response told him she neared her pleasure. "You will be my wife, my marchi—"

"Your servant girl made mistress of the manor," she said.

Marcus jerked, his thrust going hard and deep. Elise gasped. He remained inside her, full to the hilt. "Why did you allow me to touch you?" he demanded. "Don't say it is because I am lord and you are servant. We both know better. I have the power to care for you, protect you."

At last, uncertainty shown in her expression.

"As my wife, your security is assured. No Campbells, or anyone else, can harm you."

"Nothing is that certain," Elise replied.

"I haven't failed you yet."

Her mouth parted in surprise.

He kissed her mouth and moved in her again. Kissed her forehead, cheek, then ear. "Admit you want me." He quickened his thrusts.

Her muscles tightened around him in readiness for her release.

"Admit it," he pressed. "You want me now and every day and night hereafter."

Elise hugged him tight. "Yes," she cried as her climax rolled over her.

"You are mine," Marcus rasped. "You will not regret the choice."

Thursday, September 27, 2012

When Someone You Love Has a Chronic Illness Nurture Book Tour

Do you have a writing pattern (place, time, etc.) that you follow each day or does the writing decide what type of day it will be?

I have never been too obsessional about when or how I write.  I know for some writers, being very detailed about what they do is vital to their craft.  This has never worked well for me.  I take notes about ideas whenever they strike me and I write when I can.  I work full-time, so writing often takes place in the morning or late in the day.  I find that my patients often inspire me to think about things in a way that I have not thought of before.  This can keep me up way too late when trying to integrate what my patients are telling me!

That said, I am much more creative in the morning.  When I write at night, it is often to digest something from my day.  Though my ideas may involve patients, my blog writing is often influenced by events in the media. That involves being aware of current events, digesting what I think about them, and then writing when I feel passionate about something.  For books, it is a much slower process.  Books require a more complete synthesis of knowledge and ideas. For me, book ideas are much slower to accumulate.  I don’t pressure myself.  Especially after one book has come out, I understand it takes a while to come up with other ideas for the next project. Writing is a complex craft that takes time, patience, and energy.  I write when I can, and try to be understanding with myself when I can’t write!

Dr. Tamara Greenberg offers hope and practical advice to those impacted by a loved one’s chronic illness. Providing easy-to-understand explanations for complicated feelings and behaviors, this book will help you not just cope, but thrive in your day-to-day life. Learn the important tools you need to help lighten the burden we all feel when someone we love is ill.

Author Bio:
Tamara McClintock Greenberg, Psy.D., M.S., a licensed clinical psychologist, works with patients and family members affected by acute or chronic illness. She is an associate clinical professor and clinical supervisor at the University of California, San Francisco Langley Porter Psychiatric Institute. Dr. Greenberg has written three books and numerous chapters and articles on aging, illness, as well as issues pertaining to women. She writes for Psychology Today online and The Huffington Post. She also speaks to medical, psychological, and public audiences on the impact of illness, caregiving issues, and dealing with the modern medical system as a patient or loved one. She is in private practice in San Francisco.
Greenberg earned a bachelor’s degree in psychology at Hamline University in Minnesota and was awarded the prestigious Jacob Markovitz Memorial Scholarship to continue in the doctoral program at the Minnesota School of Professional Psychology. She graduated in 1997 with a doctorate in clinical psychology with a speciality in clinical health psychology.


One lucky commenter will win an ebook copy of Tamara's book! Be sure to leave your email address and follow the blog to qualify. (put GFC or name used for following in the comment)

Happy Reading!

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

My Highland Love by Tarah Scott review!

How does a woman tell her betrothed that she murdered her first husband?

Elise Kingston is a wanted woman. Nothing, not even Highlander Marcus MacGregor, will stop her from returning home to ensure that the man responsible for her daughter’s death hangs.

Until she must choose between his life and her revenge.

My Review:
As soon as I read the synopsis for the book I knew I had to have it. I joined the release party on Facebook and with just two excerpts I was running to the publisher's website with my debit card in hand. I will admit that the lovely cover may have swayed me first. ;)

This is the first book I've read by Tarah, and it did not disappoint! I loved this book! My love for Highlander tales is something that is still pretty new to me. I've only read about a dozen, and with everyone I read, I fall in love with the genre a little more. There's just something magical about a well written Scottish Romance and that's exactly what you get here. It's a large book, but is quite addicting once you start reading. I read over 350 pages in one day and still wanted to continue reading late into the night. It's definitely hard to put down.

The first thing that really drew me into this story is the ages of the characters. Before this novel I had yet to read a Highland novel about an older, experienced Hero and Heroine. That part of the story was very refreshing and instantly earned a thumbs up from me. The story just got better and better from that point. The ages is not the only unique thing about this book. Not only is Marcus, our swoon worthy hero, a Highland Laird, he is also the son of a Duke, making him a Lord. Part of the story takes place in London, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I've also never read a novel where the characters are outside of Scotland for more than a few pages. Elise is a wonderful female character. She's been through a lot; she's strong, feisty, and doesn't listen to orders very well.

The story is not only well written, but flows at just the perfect pace.One of the most important things in this genre is chemistry between the characters. My Highland Love's Marcus and Elise  will set fire to the pages, or your ereader screen! It's romantic and sensual with a good dose of suspense and action added in. Never has a Highland book made me want to visit Scotland more!

Set in the beautiful Scottish Highlands this tale of love and second chances truly shines among other Highland novels.

If you're looking for the next greatest Highland tale, pick this one up! I'll definitely be reading more from Mrs. Scott!


Saturday, September 22, 2012

Weekly Recommendations: Books by Monique O'Connor James

Enjoy the look at all of Monique's books! I definitely recommend them all.

Jess denies God. In his infinite wisdom, he’s taken everyone she’s ever loved. Moving to the French Quarter was a ploy to erase the guilt she felt for rebuking her faith. Perhaps, if she hadn’t met Justin, an angel preoccupied with getting back into God’s good graces, and drowning in his hatred for humanity, her plan would have worked.

Justin’s general disdain for the human race makes him difficult to like, but some higher power has appointed him her keeper. Justin’s convinced he can mend her broken relationship with her maker, but in the process he learns a thing or two about his own humanity.

Never mind falling in love, that’s not supposed to happen. In fact, it may even be forbidden. Jess just wants Justin to understand her plight, and he wants to protect her from a world she doesn’t know.

If neither are equipped to save the other, then whose soul will live and whose will perish?

Dixie Chauvin’s new house in The French Quarter was once the first brothel built in New Orleans outside of the Red Light District. She is tickled with her new acquisition that is until, she discovers that some of the past residents are still staking a claim to the prop-erty.

Blake is her guardian angel, but he’s let his feelings for her go far beyond his duty to protect her. He wrestles with his loyalty to his job and the rules he must follow and his need to reveal himself to the girl he loves.

Soon, they are caught in a battle to save the soul of a girl who’s been held captive in the house for over a hundred years. Dixie is so set on freeing the ghost that she travels back in time in hopes of finding out how the beauty met her end. 

Can Blake and Dixie’s love survive the terror of fighting for the girl’s freedom? 

Along with her best friend Emily, and Blake’s brother, Lathan, Dixie is thrust into the past to uncover the details of a murder, and a life of neglect and abandonment. Will the clues lead them to the truth and a way to rid the house of the apparitions who haunt it? Or will the horror of what happened drive the group apart?

Journey into a world of brothels, gambling, and political payoffs where sometimes even a guardian angel can’t protect their charge.

A gunshot echoes thrusting Darby Lambert into a near death experience. Inside the confines of an ambulance, she meets “the man in white light”. He takes away the guilt, but makes her question everything. 

“You will see them,” he whispers, as he catapults her back into the real world where she is plagued with dreams of demons, nurses, and rock stars. 

Why has He sent her back? Does she have the courage to rectify her sins? Given the chance, could you erase it all?

Darby Lambert thinks she has it all figured out. After all, she changed the horrible events of her life by tweaking her dreams. What else could go wrong?

The universe can never be altered without ramifications, and now the people she knew so well are not who she thought they were, her past is not the past she remembers, and friends are not friends.

Can she uncover the truth about who she is without further damaging those around her, or will she choose to change her dreams again to find her place in the world?

New Orleans is teeming with warring witch clans. Their world goes unnoticed by the people of the city,unseen by the masses. Nixon was one of those people, oblivious to the battles brewing around him. That is, until his eighteenth birthday.

Abandoned and on his own after the deaths of his parents...he'd grown used to being alone. Now he's discovering strange powers, learning secrets about his ancestors, and falling for the wrong girl--or is she the right one? In this new world he can trust no one...even the dead tell lies. Friends are enemies, 
and enemies hide the truth. Who can he trust? What's real and what's illusion?

Jolie Bourque is trying to finish her thesis and get on with her life. She wanders into Folette, Louisiana, a place plagued by ghost sightings, convinced the residents are all crazy. No one wants to help her, no one except, Hutch Landry and his brother, Tucker. 

Will she find the monster that is preying on the town's children? Can she stay sane surrounded by madness? What are her ties to the small town? How will she choose between the brothers?

This is the nightmare that is her life and all just a part of Becoming Jolie.

When six kids are at a party, partaking in a little too much fun, one of them is killed. The Mulligan Man, a character straight out of folklore appears offering them the chance to fix all the wrongs. In order to complete the deal, the teenagers must find out the truth of what happened, perform a random act of kindness, and become friends.

If they meet these stipulations, he will allow them to bring their friend back from the dead. In the process they learn not to judge, to stay away from drugs and alcohol, and that love can bridge even the boundary of death.

One lucky commenter will win a signed copy of one of Monique's books! (The Keepers, Jamais Vu, or Deja Vu!) Please leave your email address to qualify and answer this question:

Have you read any of Monique's books? If so, which ones. If not, which ones would you read?

Happy Reading!

Guest Post and Giveaway with Felicity Heaton!

I’m here today to talk about my angels. When I set out to write the series, I knew that I wanted to write about angels who were still working for a higher power, and that most of them would reside in Heaven, and some of them have turned and joined Hell. I didn’t want to write your typical fallen angel stories. I wanted that added complication of them being still in active service. I feel it adds to a story and gives it a unique twist that other angel romances lack, and also gives it a dash of the forbidden, which I love to write in a story.

Because my angels are still working for the man (or the Devil!), I had to think a lot about how they would work and what Heaven and Hell would be like.

I considered that in Heaven there would be angels who did different duties and eventually formed several divisions of angel, and decided that each of those divisions would be identified by their appearance. All angels wear armour under normal circumstances. They have a short breastplate and back plate covering their upper torso, and vambraces that cover from their wrist to elbow, as well as greaves that protect their shins and also their boots. Around their hips they wear a loincloth and an armoured skirt type affair, a little like Roman soldiers. The armour of each division is a different colour, as are their wings.

In the Her Angel series, there are four main divisions of angel in Heaven. The angels of death all wear black armour with gold edging and detailing, and have beautiful black wings. The angels responsible for intervention and mediating, sort of like what we think of as a regular angel, all have white armour with gold detailing, and white wings, and often use white and gold spears as their weapons of choice. The hunter angels, those responsible for tracking demons and killing them, have tawny wings and brown armour with dull gold detailing, and prefer swords. And finally, the guardian angels have blue armour with silver detailing, and silver-blue wings, and often use spears to fight with too.

Each division has different responsibilities, although all of them are obvious from their division titles, with the exception of the guardians. They do more than just guard. The guardians are split into subdivisions of those who watch over mortals, those who guard Heaven against intruders and act as wardens in the containment facility where demons are kept for questioning, and those who escort mortal souls through Heaven or to Hell on death.

The angels who have turned and pledged themselves to the Devil, like Veiron in Her Demonic Angel, the latest book in the series, all have crimson wings and wear black armour with red edging. They have a second appearance too. When their true demonic appearance comes to the fore, they have wings like a dragon and have black skin, and grow to around three feet taller and much wider than they were in their more human form. They also have red eyes and sharp red teeth.

The angels all have different abilities too, although they all share certain common skills such as being able to cast a glamour on themselves to hide their wings and change their appearance to mortal eyes so we don’t see them as angels, and making themselves invisible to mortal eyes during flight, or materialising their weapons and armour from thin air, or making objects appear or disappear in the same fashion. They are all very powerful and otherworldly beings, although some are far more powerful than others, and that all depends on how old the angel in question is.

Age doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing to them as it does to us though. Age to an angel is about the time of their creation, not about when they were last reborn. There are the original angels, and those are the most powerful, and then the other leagues of angels who were created over the centuries after them. Angels can die but they’re reincarnated back into Heaven in their usual physical appearance, always looking the same age and same hair colour, eye colour, etc as before. The only thing that can change about them is their division. Sometimes angels are born into a different division, so they have different wing colour and a different role from before. This isn’t normally a problem because an angel forgets everything about their past life upon rebirth, and learns everything from scratch again, essentially living a whole new life. There are some exceptions though. Apollyon, from my story Her Dark Angel and who also appears and plays a major role in Her Fallen Angel and Her Guardian Angel, and a role in Her Demonic Angel too, is one of the oldest angels in existence and is forever reborn into the role of angel of death.

The angels in my Her Angel series are very complex and live in an equally complex world. They’re eternal, always reborn on death, and are extremely powerful, although each has a different fighting style and they can all have a special power on top of their normal ones, such as healing, and they live in a society split into divisions and are loyal to their duties and their master. But they’re also men, and are passionate about the women they fall in love with, fiercely protective and possessive, and will do anything to ensure the safety of their woman, even if it means turning their back on their duty forever.

I hope this post has given you a little insight into the Her Angel series and how the books differ from other angel romances.

You can read an 8 chapter sample of Her Demonic Angel at my website, where it’s available for download in PDF, mobi or epub format:

The first book in the series, Her Dark Angel, is FREE for a limited time only at selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books and Apple iBookstore sites. You can find all the links for the FREE book, including a sample, at the following page:

Find out how to enter the Her Demonic Angel international giveaway (ends September 23rd) and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website, where you can also download an 8 chapter sample of the novel:

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

Her Demonic Angel
Felicity Heaton
A demonic angel with a heart of ice, Veiron walks a dark path with vengeance on his mind. Nothing will sway him from his mission to destroy his master... until he risks his life to enter Hell once more to save a mortal female. The fiery beauty makes him burn with hungers he must battle and needs he cannot deny, tempting him to surrender body and soul to her.

Erin is convinced her refusal to do the Devil’s bidding will see her die in a terrifying realm straight out of her nightmares. The last thing she expects is the lethally sensual warrior who breaks into her cell and awakens the darkest desires of her heart and a fierce longing to know the heat of his caress.

Pulled into an incredible world where war is set to ignite and darkness is on the rise, Erin races with Veiron to escape the Devil’s legions in a journey fraught with danger and filled with passion that flares white-hot.

When Erin is faced with a life-shattering realisation and an extraordinary destiny, will their love give them the strength to battle both Heaven and Hell or will they be parted forever?

Her Demonic Angel is available from:

Her Demonic Angel – Excerpt

The door opened behind her and Erin didn’t make the mistake of whirling to face the visitor this time.

She turned slowly, expecting to find either the Devil or one of his cronies come to torment her.

It was neither.

A bloodstained and beaten man wearing tight black jeans that emphasised the thickness of his thighs and a black t-shirt that stretched across the impressive hard cut breadth of his chest stood in the doorway.

He was holding a very big sword.

Erin swallowed.

Had he come to kill her?

She glanced back at the abyss below her feet. What would be a better and less painful death? Falling to this scarlet-haired man’s sword or plummeting into the volcanic river?

“Erin, I presume?” His deep voice wrapped around her and Erin couldn’t miss the concern that laced the weariness and irritation in it.

Erin looked back at him.

He slid the broadsword down his back and scrubbed his hand across several days’ worth of dark growth on his handsome face.

One good-looking man had fooled her already and it wasn’t going to happen again. This man was every bit as lethal, brutal and vicious as the Devil. It was there in his eyes and the way he held himself, legs spread in a warrior’s stance, ready for a fight.

He looked as though he had already been through several battles recently. Now that she looked closer, she spotted tears in his t-shirt that revealed startlingly enticing glimpses of hard packed muscles.

Erin dragged her gaze down to her own feet.

She must have lost it in the past few days. She had finally plunged into crazy, her mind frazzled by her captivity and being in Hell. She had to be insane to be ogling the man who had clearly come to kill her.

“Why don’t you just do it and get this over with?” she said, feeling a spark of defiance ignite in her chest. If she was going to die, she might as well go down fighting.

“Excuse me?” He frowned at her, a quizzical look filling his dark eyes. “Get what over with?”

“Killing me.”

His dark red eyebrows pinched together. “If you’re not Erin, I might.”

It was her turn to frown. “You don’t want to kill me?”

“Are you Erin?”

She nodded.

“Then I don’t want to kill you.” He stepped into her cell and she noted that he didn’t bother to stay close to the door. If she were entering a cell on a mission to save someone, she would certainly keep one foot in the door in case a bad guy came along and shut them both in. Did he have another means of escape if that happened? He raked dark eyes over her and she shivered under the heat of his gaze. “You are not what I was expecting.”

“Ditto,” she said and shrugged when he looked into her eyes, confusion lighting his again. “I was expecting the Devil to come back.”

“The snide little fucker actually paid you a visit in person?”

Erin frowned at how casually he badmouthed the Devil, as though he wasn’t afraid of him. She stared at the man, taking in his impressive height and build. He was taller than the Devil and much broader too, thick sinewy muscles visible beneath his tight clothing. His biceps were huge, so large she would struggle to wrap both of her hands around one arm. Her fingertips and thumbs wouldn’t touch if she tried. Matching black and red tribal tattoos curled around those biceps, a tantalising peek of a larger design that disappeared under the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Erin found herself wanting to strip his top off to see the rest of it.

She really had lost her mind.

“Are you alright?” He frowned again.

“Just a little brain damage,” she said, trying to make light of everything.

He crossed the black floor and stopped before her, towering close to a foot over her, his immense body overshadowing hers and making her feel tiny. He slid one large hand along the line of her jaw, tilted her head back, and stared down into her eyes.

Erin swallowed. It should be illegal for a man to be so handsome yet so lethal-looking. He screamed danger but she wasn’t quaking under his touch because of it. It was a whole other feeling that had her trembling.

“You don’t look crazy,” he whispered and she added his sultry low voice to the list of reasons someone should stamp him with the words ‘dangerous’ and ‘forbidden’. “Now... all opposed to being rescued, raise your hands, otherwise, I’d like to get the fuck out of here.”

Erin didn’t argue, not even when he clamped one strong large hand around her slender wrist and drew the broadsword strapped to his back with the other. She stared at the open door, battling a flood of emotions that threatened to sweep her under. Freedom. This man was here to save her. It was too sweet and glorious to believe. It had to be a cruel trick, another form of torture to break her.

She didn’t have much time to take in what was really happening when he pulled her over the threshold and into a long black corridor that ran between the cells. Before she could even glance back at the cell that had been her home for God only knew how many days, he was dragging her along the hallway.

“Can you run?” He glanced over his broad shoulders at her and didn’t give her a chance to respond before he started at a pace.

Erin tried to keep up. The prospect of actually surviving and escaping Hell flooded her with adrenaline that had her bare feet moving but she couldn’t match his long strides. A bright flash blinded her but it didn’t slow her companion. He kept running. They passed a large open room and she turned her head in time to see several dead bodies strewn across a floor slick with blood. More flashes lit the darkness and with each one, a body disappeared.

They looked like humans. Had the man killed them to reach her? What was that light and why were they disappearing?

She started to ask but her gaze settled on the hard angles of his profile and the stern set of his jaw and she thought better of it. This man was her ticket out of Hell and she wasn’t about to piss him off, not when she had the impression that he was quite content with killing.

Erin pounded along the black-walled corridor beside him, her legs beginning to tire and each step jarring her bones and sending pain shooting across the soles of her feet. She lost her footing on one of the sets of steps that led downwards and almost fell. The man’s hand on her wrist stopped her. He pulled her up by her arm as though she was nothing but a ragdoll in his hands, suspending her off the ground for a second before setting her down again.

“You are weak,” he said and she bristled at the double meaning in his words. He wasn’t just saying she was weak from her captivity, but that he thought she was weak period.

Erin snatched her wrist free of his grasp and rubbed it. She turned her nose up and stormed ahead of him, feeling crazy for taking the lead when she didn’t know where she was going and she didn’t have a weapon, or the knowledge of how to wield one. She couldn’t let him think she was weak though.

He followed behind her, a dark shadow barely a few feet from her, his footsteps almost silent.

They reached a split in the corridor and Erin paused. Neither of the avenues she could take looked inviting. Both were pitch-black and voices came from one. Or was it the other? Everything echoed in the corridors and it was hard to distinguish which would lead her to a grisly death and which would lead her to freedom.

She chose the right.

The man grabbed her around the waist from behind, twisted her in his arm, and slung her over his shoulder.

Erin struggled and his arm tightened against her back, causing his thick shoulder to press into her stomach. Her organs protested, sharp pain lancing each one.

“You’ll fall off. I need to move fast and you’re slowing me down.”

Well, that was just rude. Erin punched his backside. God, it was like a rock. She almost purred. Could this man get any smexier?

“You can’t carry me and fight your way out of here.”

He laughed, the warm timbre of it echoing around the dark walls. “Believe me, Sweetheart, I can fight with both hands tied behind my back. You’re no hindrance at all.”

He jogged down the left corridor with her, each step jolting her on his shoulder until she felt close to losing what little remained of the last thing she ate. Erin grabbed his leather belt, hooked her thumbs into the waist of his jeans and pushed herself up enough that it didn’t hurt as much as he ran.

This was just embarrassing now.

It was bad enough having her rescuer belittle her.

Having him carry her fireman-style to freedom was making her wish he had left her in her cell.

Warm fresh air assaulted her, as fresh as Hell got anyway, and she looked up to see the huge black walls of the prison fortress bouncing away from her.

“You can put me down now,” she said but he didn’t hear her. Either that or he was ignoring her. She was tempted to punch him on the backside again but gave up and let him have his way.

The jagged towers of the prison slowly wobbled into the distance and were lost from view behind the spires of black rock that lined the path her hero had chosen. Vents in their sides and tops belched hot acrid smoke that stole her breath. She pulled his black t-shirt up, exposing a lean delicious back, and covered her mouth with it. How the hell could he run in this?

Erin wanted to be sick.

She counted the bounces in his step to keep her focus off the horrendous smell of rotten eggs invading her lungs and the increasing number of bleached bones that lined the path as though someone had kicked the bodies out of the way and just let them rot there. Or perhaps some smaller creature had picked the bones clean. There were grooves in some of them, as though sharp teeth and claws had scraped them. Erin hoped it had happened after death and that the screams still ringing in her ears weren’t the death cries of people being eaten alive.

The man managed over three hundred steps before he finally stopped and set her down with surprising care in a wide clearing.

“Are you alright?” He held her at arm’s length, looking her over.

Her blood heated when his dark eyes lingered on her breasts and then the tiny shorts she wore.

“Do you always dress like this?” He raised an eyebrow.

Erin folded her arms across her chest, covering her breasts. The black pebbles of the path cut into the bare soles of her feet. “I was in bed when they took me.”

He ran his gaze over her again and a touch of crimson ringed his dark irises.

Erin took a step backwards.

That had to be a reflection of their fiery surroundings. It had to be.

Mr Tall, Dark and Deadly couldn’t be something straight out of Hell.

Her Demonic Angel is available now from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Apple iBookstores and direct from the author. It will soon be available for Barnes and Noble Nook too.

Find all the links, a fantastic 8 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and also how to enter the Her Demonic Angel giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website:

Books in the Her Angel romance series:

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:

One eBook copy of Her Fallen Angel will be given to a lucky commenter! (International!) Leave your email address to qualify! will pick the winner!

Happy Reading!