Synopsis
Once a proud angel of Heaven, Nevar is now a servant of
Hell, bound to a new master—the King of Demons. Consumed by darkness and driven
to seek revenge, he set in motion a series of events that awakened the Great
Destroyer, a force that will bring about the apocalypse. Now, he is the
creature’s master and the fate of our world rests in the hands of an angel with
only darkness in his heart.
Lost in the mortal realm without any recollection of how she
came to be there, Lysia is only aware that she has survived a great battle.
When she stumbles into a demon bar, she finds more than a chance to discover
what happened to her—she finds a dark and deadly angel warrior who stirs fire
in her veins and awakens soul-searing passion she cannot deny.
With the mounting threat of the Great Destroyer, the forces
of Heaven and Hell against him, and a band of dangerous angels intent on
capturing Lysia on his heels, can Nevar protect the beautiful woman who is
light to his darkness and find the strength to save the world?
Read
on for a sneak preview of Her Avenging Angel!
Her Avenging Angel is due for release in ebook and
paperback on October 11th 2014 and will be available from all major online book
retailers. Pre-order links available soon at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/her-avenging-angel-romance-book.php
Join Felicity’s mailing list to receive a
notification when Her Avenging Angel
is released, PLUS a sneak preview of the first 6 chapters of the book and
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Add the book to your Goodreads shelf at: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20940849-her-avenging-angel
Books
in the Her Angel paranormal romance series:
Book 1:
Her Dark Angel – FREE in ebook at selected retailers
Excerpt
Lysia hovered by the entrance of the inn, unsure whether to
enter or leave. Her stomach gurgled again, making her decision for her. She had
to stay. There were colourful glass bottles lining the wall to her right and
demons there were serving drinks to people who lined a long black bar. If they
had mead and other liquids then perhaps they had food for her.
She moved deeper into the room and everyone turned to stare
at her, their eyes wide. She frowned at them all. Why did they stare? She
thought them all strange but she wasn’t being rude by staring at them. If she
hadn’t been so hungry, she would have asked them, or forced them to tell her
the reason.
She pushed through a group of male demons, all of which were
wearing their human forms, and they turned on her. Their growls died as their
eyes fell on her and they parted, staring as she passed.
Lysia leaned against the tacky black bar top.
A man walked over to her, tossed a rag over his shoulder,
and smiled.
“What’ll it be?”
“I require sustenance.”
He frowned, a puzzled edge to his dark eyes, and shook his
head.
Lysia tried again. “I must eat.”
He waved his right hand and another man joined him, a blond
with pale eyes.
“Problem?” the blond said.
“Not getting this one,” the brunet responded.
The blond raked his eyes over her, his right brow quirking.
“Taking things a bit far, aren’t we? You want something?”
She nodded. “I need sustenance.”
He looked at his friend and shrugged. “I don’t understand
her.”
What was there to understand? She only wanted food.
Blood.
The two men walked away, serving others who seemed to have
no problem ordering what they desired and receiving it. She cursed them and
everyone who communicated with them with ease. While she could understand many
languages, she could write and speak only one. Without being able to speak to
the serving staff, she had no chance of getting blood.
A woman beside her cast a glance her way, looked down at
herself, and slipped off her seat and walked away, disappearing into the heavy
crowd.
Lysia sighed, perched herself on the seat, and leaned on the
bar with her forehead resting on her arms. She was warmer inside this noisy inn
but still hungry, and still tired. She needed to feed. How?
A male stopped to her left.
She turned her head towards him and ran her eyes up from the
waist of his impeccable crisp black suit to his shoulders and then his face.
Vampire. She knew his kind and could see through his façade to the wretched
monster beneath. He smiled, his fangs on show to her and his pale blue eyes
swirling with ill intentions.
“Having trouble?” The dark-haired vampire leaned his left
elbow on the bar beside her and she sat up.
She nodded. “I need to order blood.”
He frowned at her and her heart sank. He didn’t understand
her either.
“What language is that? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with it.
Can you mime what you want?” He shifted closer and she focused hard on every
word he said, listening closely so she could grasp the words he used and use
them too.
He smiled a little wider, and shifted a little closer. His
gaze drifted down to her chest and back up again.
“Mime?” He made a show of using his hands to make shapes.
She was about to do as he asked when he danced his fingers
over her left shoulder.
A cold shiver ran over her flesh and skated down her spine.
Lysia flicked her right wrist and hurled him across the
room, scattering the crowd and ripping a few shocked gasps from them.
A male further along the bar looked her way.
She froze as her eyes met his, heat pulsing through her, a
visceral throb that reached right down to her bones.
The male was handsome, but darkness clung to him, danger
that called to her and lured her to him. There was evil in him.
He would know her tongue.
He raised a glass filled with green liquid and tipped his
head, causing threads of his silver-white hair to fall and brush his brow. He
swept them back and she caught a brief glimpse of tiny horns above his ears.
Her belly flipped and heated.
“Kudos for giving Villandry hell,” he said above the
thumping music, his deep rumbling voice doing funny things to her insides and
turning her knees to rubber.
She presumed Villandry was the name of the vampire now
picking himself up off the floor across the busy room. She wasn’t sure what
kudos meant though.
Lysia swallowed her trembling heart, slipped off her seat
and approached the pale-haired male with all the confidence she could muster
when he was staring at her, his jade eyes burning into her body and setting her
aflame.
Rousing strange feelings within her.
She halted beside him.
He swivelled to face her, set his drink down on the bar but
kept his left hand on the stem of the elegant glass, and raised an eyebrow.
“Why are you naked?”
He held his right hand out and black material appeared in
it. He offered it to her.
Lysia took it and stared at it, unsure what to do with it.
The male huffed, released his drink and stood, managing to
tower over her despite the fact she was taller than the other females present.
He moved closer to her and took the material back, but she didn’t notice it
leaving her hands. The heat radiating from his big body washed over her,
cocooning her in warmth and strengthening the feelings stirring in the pit of her
belly.
She stared down at the strip of cut, hard muscles visible
between the armoured plates around his hips and his breastplate. A warrior. Her
heart accelerated. Her breathing quickened. She dragged her eyes back up to his
face and found he wasn’t looking at her. He busied himself with slipping her
arms into the garment he had made for her and she busied herself with
memorising every sculpted plane of his face, from his straight nose and strong
jaw, to his firm lips as they compressed into a mulish line.
She inched her gaze up higher, to the stunning jade eyes
that were focused on their work with an intensity that made her ache inside
with a desire to have them locked on hers with the same ferocity.
They shifted to meet hers and then dropped, a fascinating
glimmer of shyness in them that lasted only a heartbeat before coldness swept
in to wash it away.
He tugged the material closed over her front and tied a belt
around her waist, fastening the garment in place.
“There,” he murmured, “now people will stop looking at you
funnily, and you can stop looking at me funnily.”
He stepped back, a scowl darkening his striking eyes. She
hadn’t been looking at him strangely. She was merely fascinated by him. Now
that she was close to him, she could sense the depth of the darkness within him
but something else countered it, something she could only describe as good.
There was more to the male before her than she had anticipated, and it made the
pull she felt towards him grow stronger.
She looked herself over. The sleeves were too long,
concealing her hands, and the material reached her ankles. The garment covered
all of her, leaving nothing on show. Had that been his intention?
“What do you want?” he said, bringing her focus back to him.
She lifted her eyes to meet his. “Blood.”
He back peddled, almost falling over his seat, a flicker of
something dark crossing his handsome face. His eyes shone pure violet.
He had eyes like hers.
And he understood her.
“Leave me alone,” he barked and snatched up his drink with a
shaky hand. He downed it, slammed the glass back onto the bar top, and shoved
it forwards, away from him. “I’m not interested.”
Lysia frowned and shrank back. Why was he rejecting her
company? He had given her something to wear, had seemed concerned about her,
and now he was pushing her away. She clutched the robe over her chest in both
hands and risked a step closer to him instead.
“I only desire blood… but I cannot order it.”
His violet gaze darted to her and away again. A shadow
settled on his troubled features, turning them grim. He looked down into her
eyes for long seconds, stealing all of her attention, sucking it away from the
room and her surroundings.
He raised his hand and she flinched away, anticipating the
strike.
It didn’t happen.
She squinted, remaining held away from him, and looked up
into his eyes.
He cocked a single pale eyebrow and waved his left hand. The
brunet male behind the bar came to them. He had been signalling the serving
staff.
Lysia grimaced.
She had much to learn about this realm.
“Blood, straight up,” the white-haired male said.
The servant’s expression turned wary and he shifted foot to
foot. “I’m not allowed to serve you blood, remember? You made me promise.”
He had? She canted her head, studying both men. Why had the
man asked the servant not to give him blood? Did he drink it as she did?
The pale-haired warrior scrubbed a hand down his face and
sighed. He pressed both hands into the bar, digging his black claws into the
wood, and leaned forwards, closer to the man.
“It is not for me. It is for the woman.”
The brunet shrugged. “She has to order it then.”
The warrior tipped his head back, screwed his eyes shut and
sighed, and she felt he was searching for calm. He drew several slow deep
breaths before opening his eyes again and fixing them back on the barman.
“I do not think she knows how,” he said.
“I tried, but the man didn’t understand me.” That brought
his gaze back to her and she shivered under the intensity of it.
“That would be because you are speaking a language this man
doesn’t know… one I don’t have a fucking clue about either but for some
godforsaken reason I can understand you.” He shoved his fingers through his
hair, clawing it back until it tugged at his forehead, smoothing the skin, and
ground his teeth. He released his head, dropped his hands to his sides, and
huffed as he leaned over, bringing his face close to hers. “Repeat after me if
you desire… blood.”
She nodded, noting that it had taken a lot of effort for him
to speak that final word. Why?
She leaned closer to him, trying to shut out the noise of
the room so she could hear every syllable that left his lips.
She watched how they moved as he spoke. How his tongue
moved. How his teeth moved.
Her focus shattered.
He had fangs.
Made for drinking blood.
Yet he had asked the man not to serve it to him.
And she had asked him to speak of it, something which had
evidently pained him.
She stepped back and his pale eyebrows dipped low above his
now-green eyes.
“I’m sorry. I have troubled you with my request.” She went
to turn away but he caught her arm in a vice-like grip, holding her firm. She
looked down at his black fingers around her and the claws that blended into the
robe he had given her, and then up into his eyes.
He shook his head and spoke again, slower this time. “A
glass of blood, please.”
Lysia swallowed to wet her parched throat and spoke the
sounds he had made, repeating them several times over and growing in confidence
when he smiled, making her heart flutter in her chest. He nodded and jerked his
head towards the brunet behind the bar.
She turned to face him. “A glass of blood, puh-leeese.”
“We’ll work on that last bit,” the warrior muttered beside
her, a touch of warmth in his deep voice.
The man nodded. “That’s ten quid.”
Ten quid?
What was a quid and where did she find ten of them?
“Money,” the brunet said.
She looked down at herself. As the warrior had clearly
mentioned, and this man knew, she had come here naked. She had no coin.
The warrior huffed and slammed two pieces of reddish paper
down on the bar top. “It’s on me. Plus my usual.”
The bartender looked displeased and Lysia feared he wouldn’t
give her the blood because the warrior was paying for it, and had requested
this man not serve him blood.
She bared her fangs and growled at the brunet, preparing to
attack.
“Down girl.” The white-haired warrior caught hold of her arm
again, wrapping long fingers around it, and heat blazed through her.
She looked across at him, her eyes wide. He glared at the
bartender.
The man heaved a sigh, swiped the money off the bar, and
walked away. A sharp spear shot through her heart and she tried to pull away
from the warrior to follow the man, afraid he wouldn’t return.
The warrior’s grip on her arm tightened and he pulled her
closer, until her backside bumped against his thighs. An achy shiver bolted
through her and she spun to face him, catching the shock in his eyes before he
covered it. He had felt it too.
“He will be back with your drink and then you can leave me
alone,” he said in a gruff tone, released her and sat back on his seat, turning
his profile to her.
Lysia’s heartbeat began to climb, awareness of the people
around her creeping back in. The vampire was on his feet again and glaring at
her. Others stared her way too. Some of them not mortal. She didn’t like how
they watched her, not when she was weak.
Only the warrior felt as if he wasn’t a threat to her and
that he would protect her rather than seek to harm her.
She didn’t want to leave his side.
The brunet returned as the warrior had said, bringing an
elegant glass of green liquid for him and one filled with dark liquid. He set
that one down in front of her and moved off to serve another patron.
The warrior eyed her expectantly.
He wanted her to leave.
Lysia sucked down a breath for courage and reminded herself
that she was a warrior too and as powerful as any of these beings on her best
day. Today was not her best day though and it was wreaking havoc on her
courage, leaving her feeling vulnerable. She was injured, starving, and
everything around her felt so alien and unfamiliar.
Except for him.
He made her feel safe.
She made sure she had all of his attention before she
whispered, “Allow me to stay. The men here mean me harm.”
His face darkened, his jade eyes swirling into blazing
violet, and he slid his deadly gaze towards those staring at her.
She felt their eyes leave her.
“Sit,” he growled, more a command than a request, and she
obeyed.
She took the stool beside him, swivelled to face the bar and
picked up her glass. She sipped the blood, her gums itching and fangs aching to
descend. She wanted to gulp it down but it was such a small quantity and she
didn’t think the warrior would buy her more.
It wasn’t enough to appease her hunger. It would only take
the edge off it.
She would need more and her heart said she knew where she
wanted her next meal to come from.
Her gaze slid to the warrior, settling on his strong neck
and the pulse hammering there, powerful and steady, a beat that called to her.
She wanted to bite him.
About the Author
Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today
international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books.
In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action,
intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from
dark deadly vampires to sexy 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 Vampire Erotic Theatre 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 new Eternal Mates series.
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