12/12 – 12/16 Winter Warmers Giveaway Hop!!!

16 winterwarmersgiveawayhop_zps6c3259d8Thanks for stopping by Indie Romance Books for the WINTER WARMERS Giveaway Hop, presented by Felicity Heaton and All of Us here at Indie Romance Books!

We love ALL KINDS of romance at Indie Romance Books. Our giveaway is a huge variety of e-books from each of our authors, so be sure to enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win!  Just scroll down to the Rafflecopter link below, click, then have fun with each option for entering out contest! 

30 Fire in fireplaceIsn’t winter the best when it’s cold outside but warm inside, with a nice fire burning on the hearth, candles lit and the lights low!  Ah, romance at its best, something each of us tries to recreate in a thousand different ways in our books!

To reach the list of contributing blogs, scroll down to the link at the very bottom of this post!!!

And here’s a bit about us…


Felicity Heaton with Miyazaki Clock in Tokyo, Shiodome District

Felicity Heaton & F E Heaton

Hi, all!  I’m a USA TODAY Bestselling author and I write passionate paranormal romance books as Felicity Heaton and F E Heaton. In my books, I create 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 my books too.

Welcome to our hop!

Erin KellisonErin Kellison

Erin Kellison is the USA Today Bestelling Author of the dark fantasy romance ShadowShadow Touch, and Shadow Kissed series. Stories have always been a central part of Erin’s life. She attempted her first book in sixth grade, a dark fantasy adventure, and she still has those early hand-written chapters. She graduated summa cum laude with a degree in English Language and Literature and went on for a masters in Cultural Anthropology, focusing on oral storytelling. When she had children, nothing scared her anymore, so her focus shifted to writing fiction.


C.A. Nicks and Alexandra Marell

(No pic yet, but we’re working on her!!!)

I don’t like my heroes too perfect and I like heroines who aren’t afraid to go out and get their man. I love gothic romance, which I hope will come back into fashion one day. I like my romance to have a touch of the epic about it, with strong emotions and unforgettable characters. My favourite novel is Wuthering Heights. I also write as Candy Nicks.

Caris Roane - Author Photo 2Caris Roane

I’m a USA Today Bestselling Author and I write super-sexy paranormal romance fiction designed to be as much an adventure as a soul-satisfying experience.  With every book I write, I try to give a taste of real life, despite the fact that I’m writing about hunky vampire warriors.  You’ll come away engrossed in the lives of my vampires as they wage war, as they make love, and as they answer the tough questions of life in terms of purpose, eternity, and how to raise a family!  I began my career with Kensington Publishing writing Regency Romance as Valerie King.  In 2005, Romantic Times Magazine honored me with a career achievement award in Regency Romance.  I’ve published fourteen paranormal romance novels to-date, some self-published and some for St. Martin’s Press!

H.D. Thomson

H. D. ThomsonH.D. Thomson moved from Ontario, Canada as a teenager to the heat of Arizona where she graduated from the University of Arizona with a B.S. in Business Administration with a major in accounting. After working in the corporate world as an accountant, H.D. changed her focus to one of her passions-books. She owned and operated an online bookstore for several years and then started the company, Bella Media Management. The company specializes in web sites, video trailers, ebook conversion and promotional resources for authors and small businesses. When she is not heading her company, she is following her first love-writing.

And now enter to win our site’s Rafflecopter GRAND PRIZE:  an assortment of e-books from the Indie Romance Books Authors!!!

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May you have the most beautiful holiday season ever!  And now…keep hopping!!!

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Posted in Alexandra Marell, C A Nicks, Caris Roane, F E Heaton, Felicity Heaton, Giveaways, H D Thomson | 2 Comments

Kissed by a Dark Prince (Eternal Mates Romance Series Book 1) by Felicity Heaton – Available Now

Kissed by a Dark Prince, the first book in my new Eternal Mates series, is out now in paperback and ebook! If you enjoyed the Vampire Erotic Theatre series, you’ll love this new series of novels set in the same world, but taking a look at the other species and the larger world outside the theatre.

Here’s more about the book, and I’m also having an amazing release week giveaway where you could win up to $150 in Amazon Gift Cards. The giveaway is international and ends December 8th. You can find out how to enter at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/kbadp


Kissed by a Dark Prince - paranormal romance BookKissed by a Dark Prince
Felicity Heaton
Olivia thinks it’s her lucky night when a dangerously handsome unconscious fae ends up on her inspection table. He’s her chance to redeem herself with her employer, the demon-hunting organisation, Archangel. But when the tall, dark and deadly immortal warrior awakes, she gets much more than she bargained for…

Attacked by his enemy in the elf kingdom, the last thing Prince Loren expects when he comes around is a beautiful angel watching over him and medical technology of the mortal realm. Hazy from his injuries, all he can focus on is the pulse ticking in her throat and the sweet allure of her blood.

One single bite reveals she is his eternal mate, triggering a bond between them that will leave him weakened until it is complete… or broken, and pulling Olivia into the crossfire of his ancient feud.

To protect his people and his mate from the machinations of a madman, Loren must risk everything by working with Olivia at Archangel to find a way to break the bond blossoming between them.

But will Loren be strong enough to place duty before desire and give up the one thing he has waited millennia for and craves above all others—his eternal mate? And will Olivia be able to resist the incredible heat that burns between them and the temptation of her dark prince’s kiss?

Available in e-book from:
Amazon Kindle | Amazon Kindle UK | Amazon Kindle Canada | Amazon Kindle Australia

Apple iBookstore USA | Apple iBookstore UK | Apple iBookstore Canada | Apple iBookstore Australia | Apple iBookstore New Zealand

Kobo Books | Barnes and Noble


Available in paperback from:



Olivia had never seen anything like the male specimen on the inspection table in front of her.

Her heart raced. She hadn’t experienced this explosive combination of uncertainty, anticipation and enthusiasm in a long time, ever since her superiors had stripped her of her rank and sent her to this satellite facility in London, taking away her high-level privileges and forcing her to work on studying demon and fae species already extensively researched. It still felt as though they had shoved her out of sight, burying her in the Archangel equivalent of a basement to punish her for her mistake. She had lost all hope of removing the taint it had left on her name in the organisation.

Until now.

The specimen lying right in front of her was her chance to prove herself again, a gift that some higher power had literally dumped on her doorstep.

Blood stained his neck and splashed across his jaw, and pooled at the left corner of his mouth too, luring Olivia’s gaze to firm sensual lips that had her staring blankly, lost in their perfection. She blinked herself out of her trance. Time was of the essence. She needed to get her study underway before her guest woke up or one of the other doctors belonging to the facility barged in and tried to take over.

She shook her hands to steady them, pulled her digital recorder from the pocket of her white coat, and turned it on. She set it on the silver trolley filled with all the equipment she thought she might need to complete her inspection of their unconscious guest.

Olivia tugged on a pair of latex gloves and ran her fingers over the scalpels and tools, and settled on a pair of shears. It had been a long time since she had been able to work on a live specimen and she wanted to start by getting his vitals monitored.

She picked up the shears and cut down the middle of his long black tunic style jacket. Red stained her cream gloves.

“Specimen appears to have suffered severe injuries, worse than at first thought, resulting in a high level of blood loss.” She reached the end of his jacket and peeled the two sides back. She paused, her eyes widening at the impressive display of taut honed muscles under tight bloodstained and bruised skin. “Specimen also isn’t wearing anything under his coat.”

Completely unprofessional of her but she had expected at least some sort of undershirt, and she certainly hadn’t anticipated a body like this. She drew in a shaky breath, mentally told herself to get it together, and cut upwards along each of his sleeves. She peeled the two sides of his ruined jacket away from his body and set them down on the tray.

“Multiple lacerations and abrasions on his torso and arms. Many appear to be claw marks. Possible demon attack. Subject wears matching black and silver metal bands on each wrist.” Olivia spread her fingers and stroked along the lines of four long slashes over his left deltoid. She gasped. “Specimen has markings on his body that hadn’t been visible prior to interaction with him.”

Olivia tracked the symbols with her fingertips, following them as they formed a curl over his deltoid to his shoulder. Whenever she moved along the line, more symbols appeared, luring her fingers. The colourful swirls and glyphs shimmered through the blood staining him. They swept over his shoulder and under his collarbone, and suddenly she was caressing his left pectoral, chasing them as they followed the shape of his muscle downwards over his heart and around across his torso, and then curled under his nipple to end in a point there.

She had never seen anything like this. It fascinated her. The ones that curled around his deltoid were already fading, disappearing into his skin.

She had made it her business to study the written languages of the fae and demons, because many non-humans bore markings like this and it made it easier to identify the species of the owner. Incubi were born with lines of symbols on their skin that not only changed colour to show their mood, but also detailed their lineage, proudly displaying their heritage in the paternal line. The symbols inked on this male’s skin weren’t that of the common fae language though. They were new to her.

“Specimen’s markings seem limited to his upper torso.” She leaned over him and swept a single finger across his right pectoral, and sure enough, markings appeared there too, perfectly mirroring the design she had followed. Olivia used the shears to cut through the waist of his black trousers and froze when more markings shimmered over his hipbone. “Correction. Specimen’s markings continue on his lower body, notably his hips.”

Olivia flicked a glance at the front of his trousers. If this lean, unusual male didn’t wear an undershirt, what were the chances he wasn’t wearing underwear too?

She curled her fingers into fists and stifled the blush that crept onto her cheeks. She had seen plenty of nude men during her years as a doctor and in her personal life too. He was just a specimen. Her gaze roamed to his handsome face, taking in its sculpted perfection. A very gorgeous specimen.

Her heart beat harder and she rolled her shoulders. She had to get a grip. This was her chance. If she had never seen anything like this man, then there was a chance neither had the other scientists employed by Archangel. All those scientists that were currently enjoying a soiree at headquarters, leaving her as the only medical staff in the building. If she could document everything about this male, and figure out what species of demon or fae he was, then her superiors would have to give her some credit, and maybe she could get back to doing what she loved most—studying new species.

So, she had to do this. He was just another subject.

Olivia cut away his trousers, running the shears straight down each long, toned leg. She removed the central part and swallowed as her gaze betrayed her, darting to his groin. No underwear. Her face flushed. Oh my. The man was built like a god with not an ounce of fat on his lithe body. All powerful muscle.

She set the shears down and took another steadying breath before touching the fading marks on his left hip. They brightened again and she followed them.
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Posted in Eternal Mates, Fantasy Romance, Felicity Heaton, New Releases, Paranormal Romance | 1 Comment

Welcome to the Hot Halloween Heroes Giveaway Hop!

hothalloweenheroeshopThanks for stopping by Indie Romance Books for the Hot Halloween Heroes Giveaway Hop! We love paranormal romance at Indie Romance Books. Our giveaway is a huge variety of paranormal romance. We’re sure you’ll get your fix if you love all things paranormal.

To enter just scroll down to the Rafflecopter badge. 

Also here’s a bit about us:





Felicity Heaton with Miyazaki Clock in Tokyo, Shiodome District

Felicity Heaton & F E Heaton

I write passionate paranormal romance books as Felicity Heaton and F E Heaton. In my books, I create 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 my books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, my best selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series I write as F E Heaton or any of my stand alone vampire romance books I write as Felicity Heaton. Or if you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try my new Vampire Erotic Theatre series.

I began my writing career in 2005, when I was published by Linden Bay Romance. In 2006, I moved away from Linden Bay romance to self-publish my stories, and have done so ever since then.

My indie romance books have received several recommended reads and five star reviews from a variety of romance review websites such as Fallen Angel Reviews, Lovevampires.com, Bitten by Books, Long and Short Reviews, We Write Romance, Paranormal Romance Reviews, Love Romances, Night Owl Reviews and Grave Tells to name a few.

In 2011, five of my 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 my releases received five star reviews from numerous websites.

In 2012, I received the GraveTells Author of the Year Award, Heart of Darkness was announced as a 2013 Epic Ebook Awards Finalist in the Paranormal Romance category, books in my Vampire Erotic Theatre series received Must Read and Top Pick awards from GraveTells and The Romance Reviews, and Masquerade in my Vampires Realm series was selected as June’s Book of the Month at GraveTells.

Many of my books have reached the best seller lists on Fictionwise.com, Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk, with several of them hitting the number 1 or top 10 places in paranormal romance and fantasy romance in the Kindle Store, and books reaching the top 200 in the overall store rankings. Books in my Vampires Realm series and the In Heat series have reached number 1 in Romance at Fictionwise.

When I’m not filling my day with writing or writing related work, I love nothing more than reading, playing RPG on my PlayStation, watching anime or reading manga, and also spend time drawing manga characters (sometimes of my romance heroes and heroines) and improving my archery skills. I also love to travel and I am studying Japanese.

Erin Kellison

Erin Kellison is the author of the dark fantasy romance ShadowShadow Touch, and Shadow Kissed series. Stories Erin Kellisonhave always been a central part of Erin’s life. She attempted her first book in sixth grade, a dark fantasy adventure, and she still has those early hand-written chapters. She graduated summa cum laude with a degree in English Language and Literature and went on for a masters in Cultural Anthropology, focusing on oral storytelling. When she had children, nothing scared her anymore, so her focus shifted to writing fiction.





C.A. Nicks and Alexandra Marell

I don’t like my heroes too perfect and I like heroines who aren’t afraid to go out and get their man. I love gothic romance, which I hope will come back into fashion one day. I like my romance to have a touch of the epic about it, with strong emotions and unforgettable characters. My favourite novel is Wuthering Heights. I also write as Candy Nicks.

Caris Roane

photo Caris Roane black borderI was ten when I first watched an old movie version of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE and loved it!  Movies led to books, which led to writing and after a good long while, publishing.  I wrote sweet Regency romance for Kensington for 19 years and recently fell in love with paranormal, although I’ve always had a thing for vampires.  I currently write paranormal romance for St. Martin’s Press but I self-publish as well.  Building an online platform has been an enormous but rewarding challenge.  I think all the changes in publishing will alter how authors approach the business going forward and I for one am thrilled to have so many options.

I’ve been in love with vampires for a very long time and years ago, under the pseudonym Valerie King, I wrote a Regency vampire novella for Kensington that prompted a fan to tell me she hoped it would be made into a movie!  How’s that for an accolade?!?  But that was long before there was such a thing as a ‘Paranormal’ market…and for all that time vampires have been in my blood!  Yes…pun intended, or…don’t I wish!

H.D. Thomson

H. D. ThomsonH.D. Thomson moved from Ontario, Canada as a teenager to the heat of Arizona where she graduated from the University of Arizona with a B.S. in Business Administration with a major in accounting. After working in the corporate world as an accountant, H.D. changed her focus to one of her passions-books. She owned and operated an online bookstore for several years and then started the company, Bella Media Management. The company specializes in web sites, video trailers, ebook conversion and promotional resources for authors and small businesses. When she is not heading her company, she is following her first love-writing.


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Posted in Alexandra Marell, C A Nicks, Caris Roane, F E Heaton, Felicity Heaton, Giveaways, H D Thomson, Paranormal Romance | 1 Comment

Themed Friday – Pets – Excerpts from Alexandra Marell, H D Thomson and Felicity Heaton

Every week our Indie Romance Books authors contribute to a theme of the week. This week’s theme is – Pets!


From Author Alexandra Marell

This is an excerpt from my contemporary romance, The Cursed Princess. Princess Cristina, cursed to be a cat, has been trying in vain to get Dario and Elena together. When Dario persuades Elena to go for a midnight swim with him, Cristina decides drastic action is called for…

Here’s the blurb of the book.

Dario Denaro hasn’t come to the Island of Sorellina to fall in love again – he’s here to oversee the renovation of Villa Cristina, the most exclusive of the Denaro residences. And Elena Marcante, who’s on the island to visit her ailing grandmother, certainly doesn’t expect to run into the man who left her twenty years ago without a word of goodbye. But Cristina the cat has other ideas. Once the most noble Princess Cristina Denaro, she was cursed by her jealous lover, Bernardo Marcante, to live as a humble cat until a Denaro and a Marcante declare undying love. But after five hundred years and with the family feud still running deep, Cristina is desperate, while Bernardo’s spirit lurks in the ruins of the old temple wracked with remorse for what he did to her. Dario and Elena are no longer a pair of love-struck teens, but will they remember that magical summer they spent together? With hope of ever breaking the curse fading and with a few family secrets revealed along the way,Cristina is determined the medieval cathedral bells will finally ring out for the union of a Denaro and a Marcante.



They would never get down to that beach. Cristina dodged the tumbling sandal and watched it fall to the sand below. Elena’s reluctance was clear enough. She was obviously hedging and regretting her decision to join Dario for his swim.

Not good. Not good at all.

To ease the descent, the steps turned first to the right and then to the left, repeating the pattern until they reached the small, private cove. At several points, instead of the beach, the person walking the steps would find themselves above a swirling pool formed by a curve of rock enclosing the sea.

Peering down from her hiding place, she studied the drop, fur already standing on end at the thought of getting so wet.

You are Princess Cristina, she reminded herself. There is nothing you would not do to save your love.

Drastic action was called for or she’d had no love to save. It was said that people came together in times of crisis and Dario and Elena were so close. They needed only the slightest nudge, something to push them into a bonding experience that would make them realise what they’d been missing all these years.

Without further hesitation, Cristina jumped.

She had meant to be brave, but cats generally hated water and there was little she could do about that. The waves came at her, pulling her down and then she rose from the water with an undignified flailing of legs that propelled her into the air and then back into the sea.

“Oh my goodness, Cristina just fell off the path.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, it was her. Quick, we’ve got to help her.”

Snatches of conversation, the rattle of shale tumbling down the slope told her they were coming for her with all haste. So far exactly as planned. She went down again, briny water flooding her nose. With one gargantuan effort and a yowl to wake the dead, she exploded from the water and looked for the shore, which seemed suddenly too far away.

Calm down and paddle your legs. It’s only a bit of wet fur. She tried talking to herself, but it wasn’t working. The feel of sopping fur was entirely too horrible to bear.

But bear it she would. Dario was on the sand now, shrugging off the robe, running towards the waves that lapped at the curve of the cove.

“Shine the torch over here. This is where she went in.”

Cristina gave a meow for effect, although the shivery sound that came out was in no way fabricated. Over here, she wanted to scream when Dario failed to notice her. The weight of her sodden fur combined with the thought they might not see her caused another anguished yowl.

“Over there.” Elena’s panicked voice. A shaft of light from the torch lit her soggy indignity. “Grab her, Dario. Don’t let her drown.”

A splash beside her as Dario jumped, feet first into the pool formed by an indent in the cliff at the edge of the cove and waded towards her. The water only came up to his chest, but he wasn’t a cat and less than a few hand-spans tall.

“Got her.” A strong hand grasped the loose fur at the scruff of her neck. Hauled her free of the water and onto his shoulders. Then Elena was kneeling and reaching for her. Holding her while she coughed up the swallowed sea-water.

“How is she?”

Dario emerged from the water, swim-shorts moulded to his body, showing off his fine physique. Had Elena noticed? That was after all the point of this exercise. Ideally, Elena should have jumped in too, got into difficulty and also had to be rescued. But this would do just as well. A token struggle to indicate she wanted to be let down and Elena let her go, placing her gently on the sand.

“What came over you, Cristina? Never known you to fall from the path before.”

“Old age, probably. Getting a bit doddery are we, old cat?” Dario towelled off vigorously, wrapping the towel about his hips when done. Cristina hadn’t missed his brief glance at the scar on his thigh. The conscious move to cover it up.

Old? How dare he? She shook herself vigorously, standing close enough to shower him with droplets of salt water. If she ever regained the ability to communicate with humans, she and Dario were going to have a little chat about how to compliment a lady.

To prove being five hundred years’ old was a mere drop in the ocean of time, she ran to the steps and raced to the half-way point, stopping only for a wash and a little peek at what was happening on the beach.

So close. She’d managed to get Dario out of the robe. Elena’s turn now for the big reveal with her back turned, fingers on the ties.

Cristina crossed her paws for luck and waited.

The Cursed Princess is available at amazon and most other ebook retailers.



From Author H D Thomson

I seem to always have an animal in my books for some reason. In Shrouded in Darkness, the heroine, Margot, has a cat that gets her in a bit of trouble.

Margot jerked awake. She lay there, heart pounding, mind struggling for a reason why. Then she heard it. From outside. A high, piercing cry. It sent goose flesh up her arms and legs and chilled her soul. Another cry ripped through the night, sounding more terrifying than the first. Such pain. So much pain in that one cry…

Silence followed. Thick and suffocating. Then it hit her. Marmaduke!

Margot had completely lost track of her cat. So focused on Jake, she could have easily missed Marmaduke slipping outside.

Snapping on the bedside light, she glanced over to the chair where Marmaduke slept at night and found it empty. Heart ricocheting against her ribs, Margot flung back the covers. Vivid memories of when she was a child drove her from the room.

At the age of ten, she’d stood frozen in the front yard, unable to stop the neighbor’s Doberman from killing her cat, Sassy, unable to close her eyes against the terror or her ears against the screams—screams similar to the ones she’d just heard.

There were coyotes out there, animals just as savage as any Doberman.

When Margot couldn’t find Marmaduke on either floor, she thrust her bare feet into a pair of boots and grabbed her jacket and a flashlight.

The second she stepped outside and closed the door, an angry, frigid wind slapped at her exposed face and hands and tore the breath from her lungs. She brushed at her hair as it whipped into her face, while snow pelted her from an impenetrable, black sky.

How could she possibly find Marmaduke in this mess? The outside light barely penetrated past the porch. Granted, she knew the property and how the front yard sloped downward to an outcropping of aspen intermixed with pine. If anything, Marmaduke would venture there or the barn to the left.

With the flashlight in one hand, Margot grabbed the shovel butted up against the wall for protection with the other hand. She paused at the bottom of the porch stairs and peered into the darkness. The idea of finding Marmaduke’s remains turned her stomach, but the fear of leaving him out in the cold, possibly wounded or even dying, urged her through the snow and past the porch’s illumination.

The cry of the wind, high and mournful, swept through the trees as Margot snapped on the flashlight. She aimed its beam down the driveway, where snow darted and whirled across the ground, and swept the light to the left.

That’s when she noticed another light, faint but distinct. It penetrated through the falling snow and barren trees from the barn window.

Someone was in the lab.


From Author Felicity Heaton

I feel I’m going to throw the dogs amongst the cats now… or at least the hellhounds amongst the kitties anyway! I’m featuring a scene from my new release, Her Wicked Angel, and Asmodeus’s two hellhounds, Romulus and Remus.

Her Wicked Angel by Felicity Heaton

Liora strolled through the black-walled corridors of Asmodeus’s castle, enjoying the cooler air inside and tailed by his hellhounds.

Well, she was hobbling and snooping, but it made her feel better if she pretended she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

When he had left her, disappearing through the black vortex that she presumed teleported him elsewhere in Hell, and closer to his master, she had pottered around the grounds of the imposing castle. Romulus and Remus had tracked her every move, keeping close to her heels. Clearly, they took their duty seriously and were determined not to fail their master. She had tried to lose them, but they were quicker than she was in her somewhat battered, bruised and shaken state, so she had given up.

She had actually begun to feel safer with them around. Hell wasn’t a particularly quiet place. Every few seconds there was a distant shriek or piercing cry of something that sounded big and armed with rows of sharp teeth and even sharper claws.

Romulus and Remus snapped to attention whenever the call echoed around the distant black mountains that surrounded the featureless basin below her. Sometimes they bared their own black fangs and closed formation, pinning her between them. Remus had even licked her hand when the cry had sounded closer and she had tensed, her heart beating wildly, sending adrenaline rocketing through her veins.

Differentiating between the two immense black hellhounds hadn’t been hard once she had realised that Remus had a floppy ear. She smiled again at the memory of how Asmodeus had corrected it for him, his air that of a doting but frustrated father. It did wreck the hellhound’s deadly and frightening appearance, and that had softened her initial feelings towards them both, making them less scary and threatening.

When she had reached the far end of the walled grounds, she had peered over the edge. Her head had turned and her stomach somersaulted at the sheer drop to the valley far below. Romulus had moved between her and the wall and nudged her backwards, forcing her away from the frightening drop. The hellhound hadn’t stopped nudging her until she had been a good five metres from the wall.

Liora had turned then and paused, frozen by the sight of the black castle. It was strangely beautiful and enchanting, made of tall cylindrical towers topped with conical roofs that reached high into the thick hot air. She had drawn such castles as a child. It had a fairy tale air about it.

The enchanted castle of a dark prince.

Where was her dark prince now?

Liora ran her gaze over the black walls inside his home. They were unadorned. She had walked through several empty rooms and through endless bare corridors. She could hardly call it snooping when there was nothing to peek at.

Romulus and Remus stalked behind her and she had the feeling that she was slowing them down. She hobbled on and focused on her magic. It was still weak and it would be a while before it was strong enough for her to use on her sprained ankle.

“Maybe I could ride one of you?” She looked over her shoulder at her two dark guardians. They were as large as she had pictured, their ears easily reaching her shoulder, and were thickly muscled too. “Could you support my weight?”

They stared blankly at her, red eyes not giving away if they could understand her or not. Asmodeus spoke English. She shook that thought away. He had said they understood him when he spoke a demonic sort of tongue. They hadn’t understood her earlier. She should have pressed Asmodeus to teach her a few commands, just in case she needed them. They seemed complacent and hadn’t shown any sign of wanting to attack her, but she still couldn’t bring herself to trust them one hundred percent.

They had dark auras and unnaturally strong energy. It set her magic on edge and she was having a hard time convincing herself that they wouldn’t harm her so it would relax and she could focus on recuperating.

She doubted they would obey her even if she did speak their language.

Romulus trotted on ahead, loping down the dark dimly lit corridor. Remus huffed and followed, and they turned left and disappeared from view. Growls filled the silence and she hurried forwards, afraid that Asmodeus had been wrong and there was an intruder. Her limited magic sparked around her fingers, draining her strength as she tried to use her natural energy to enhance it.

She rounded the corner and sighed, her magic fading again.

The two hellhounds rolled around in the corridor ahead of her, growling at each other and trying to grab each other’s scruff.

It wasn’t the first time they had done this.

They acted like puppies sometimes, bounding ahead of her and shouldering each other, snarling and growling at the same time. It made it difficult for her to believe they were several hundred years old.

Liora smiled as she watched them playing and her thoughts turned back to Asmodeus. He had raised them from puppies, saving them from death. It was proof of the good in him that he hid so well from others. If Apollyon were aware of what Asmodeus had done, he wouldn’t view his twin as evil at all.

Romulus and Remus got to their paws and came to her. Surprise claimed her when they pushed under her palms, causing her to rub their heads between their tall pointed ears.

Liora petted them as Asmodeus had, stroking their short satiny black fur.

“Do you love your master?” she whispered and they both lifted their heads, looking up at her with bright red eyes, and wagged their whip-like tails with enthusiasm. Liora smiled at them. They definitely loved their master and she had a feeling that he loved them in return.

They moved off as one, scouting the corridor ahead.

Liora followed them, allowing them to lead her deeper into the castle and up a set of stone steps to the next floor.

It was a whole different world.



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Themed Friday – Villains – Excerpts from

Every week our Indie Romance Books authors contribute to a theme of the week. This week’s theme is – Villains!

From Author C A Nicks

Vampire romance usually involves a villain of sorts. The trick for the author is making the reader fall in love with a character who might not be always be entirely the good guy. They’re great characters to write because you can take them through a transformation and redeem them, while still leaving that hint of true nature lurking underneath. This is a scene from my historical vampire romance, Can I Keep You where the heroine, Laura has no idea what she’s gotten herself into when Kane our dubious vampire hero whisks her off in his carriage.  Here’s the blurb -

When Kane picks up a runaway on the streets of Victorian England his only thought is to have a few days of amusement and a decent meal. He is a vampire, after all – it’s what he does. But Laura has to be the most unconvincing whore he’s ever met. She soon finds out that there are ways other than brute force and strength to bring a vampire to his knees. As they fall in love, she becomes the catalyst for his astonishing journey of redemption, bringing back all-too-painful memories of Harry, the gentle man he once was. It’s not an easy road. Along the way they encounter forces of evil that have other plans for Laura and Kane. And the question neither of them really wants to answer hovers in the background. Does he turn her into a vampire like himself and risk losing her? Or will a human lifetime together be enough?


Neither of them spoke as the carriage clattered through the night. Soon Laura was aware that there were fewer houses and they’d left the town behind. Lights no longer shone comfortingly from parlour windows. She huddled further into the corner of the padded seat, a terrible sense of foreboding settling over her.

The man called Kane, her dubious rescuer, sat opposite, little more than a dark shape. His features were obscured by shadow, but she felt him watching her, as if by some diabolical means, he could see in the dark. Hadn’t she already thought him the devil back in the alleyway when he’d killed the sailor? Snapped his neck as if it were a mere twig?

The memory made her shrink back and pull her torn dress together to hold it in place. Perhaps she wasn’t imagining his quiet scrutiny. Slowly, she shifted her legs so they no longer brushed against his while he sprawled comfortably back. When he made no move to touch her she closed her eyes and steeled herself for the task ahead. A task she had never imagined would be so difficult.

Yes, he looked and smelled much better than the sailor and had saved her from possibly the worst experience of her life. Still a man, though. One whose money she had accepted and who would now expect his due. Clenching her fist around the coins, she hoped they would be sufficient to buy her a new gown. If her appearance were more presentable she might ensnare a rich man in search of a mistress and this life may not be so terrible after all. It didn’t seem so when she considered the alternative.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the carriage coming to a halt. She leaned anxiously towards the window to see where they’d arrived.

“Not there yet.” Kane made no move to get up. “Stopping to open the gates.”

The action was repeated on the other side and the carriage lurched forward once more, jolting her out of her seat. She would have fallen had Kane’s arm not moved, with incredible speed, to steady her. He caught her by the forearm in an iron grip that made her flinch. Immediately he loosened his fingers and she pulled away scooting back into the seat once more and wondering, with a sinking heart, exactly what she’d let herself in for. Here was a man who knew what he wanted and would take without question.

She was now merely a commodity to be purchased and used up. Customers were not required to care about her feelings. Kane said her first time shouldn’t be up against a wall in a dirty alley but Laura didn’t fool herself that he was thinking of her own comfort.

The carriage stopped and she found the strength from somewhere to stand. Kane stood too, moving behind her completely at ease in the darkness. He moved as silently as a ghost radiating a power that engulfed her like a malevolent cloak. She felt him, yet still jumped when he spoke. And when his arm slipped around her waist and pulled her off her feet and hard against him, in one swift movement, the breath left her body in such a rush she thought she might faint.

Perhaps it was the fear of what was to come? That, combined with the iron band of his arm across her chest made the blood pound in her temples. This, for some reason, only seemed to excite him more. His face dipped against the skin of her neck where he inhaled deeply, teeth scraping lightly.

“You smell good,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I’m glad we’re back, I’ve been thinking about you all the way. All the things you’re going to do for me. What I’m going to do to you. Can you feel how much I’ve been thinking about you, Laura?”

How could she not? He was hard and big against her back and she remembered how the sailor had looked when he’d exposed himself. Judging by what she could feel, Kane was just as large.

He seemed to have no idea he was crushing the breath from her lungs. His tongue traced wet, lazy circles around her ear and he whispered words that might have shocked her, had she not been now at the point of expiring in his embrace.

Struggling to release her trapped arms only caused him to hold her more tightly. In panic she used the only weapon available. Twisting her head around, she sank her teeth hard into the first bit of flesh her mouth could reach. Kane released her immediately with a surprised grunt. Laura fell forward, her first priority being to take in a few desperate breaths so she could regain her senses, and her second, to jump from the carriage and run as far away as possible. The sailor’s body, lying limp and still on the cobbles, flashed into her mind. It transformed and changed into a blonde-haired girl, her face frozen in a last, horrified expression.

Her inevitable fate if she didn’t run now.

Kane’s deep groan told her how much she’d hurt him. Before she could catch her breath he had her again, his long fingers curling around her neck, just as he’d gripped the sailor. She knew then, with a calm, certainty that this was the end.

She had always wondered what death would feel like. Now she knew. It was cold and hard, and unexpectedly lonely. As she stood helpless, waiting for her final moment she felt totally bereft of everything she’d ever held dear. It wasn’t even worth screaming, for who was there to listen, or care? She almost welcomed it then, for if she couldn’t keep herself as a whore, what else was left to her?

“Do it quickly,” she said squaring her shoulders and staring out into the dark night.

“Oh, no,” death whispered back to her. It loosened its grip and the cold, hard fingers began to wind into her hair. “This is far too much fun for that.”

His arm circled her waist once more, holding her, this time merely to keep her in place. Pulling on her hair, he tipped her head back as far as it would go. She tried to twist round to look at his face, which he’d burrowed deep into the curve of her neck, and failed. He had her so firm in his grasp that all she could do was stare, wide-eyed, at the roof of the carriage and pray that he’d change his mind and make it quick after all.

He’s done this before, she thought suddenly, when he shifted her more comfortably against him. The smooth, practiced manoeuvre told her she wasn’t the only woman to have suffered this fate at his hands.

Would she hear the crunch and snap of her own bones? she wondered, waiting with a hammering heart, for him to break her neck. Or would it happen so fast that she’d be dead before the sound reached her ears? She deserved no less. Foolish to think she could have done this.

It was her last coherent thought before she was gripped by a sensation so sharp, and so exquisite she couldn’t untangle the pain from the shockingly intense pleasure. Kane pushed himself hard against her, making her jerk in his arms and a rush of heat, and something she’d never felt before, shot straight from her neck like a lightning bolt down her belly to that place no decent woman ever talked about.

The startled gasp came from her lips, the dark groan from his, and it was only then, as she writhed against him and rode out the wave after wave of bliss pooling between her legs, and the coins fell from her fingers to scatter onto the floor, that she realised he’d bitten her, too.

Can I Keep You is available from amazon and most ebook retailers.

From Author H D Thomson

I absolutely love writing about villians! This excerpt is from Shrouded in Illusion, which not only has one villain but two! That’s double the trouble!

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000031_00006]

“I want you to get your ass over to Vegas,” Ferguson demanded. “She showed up on the local news there.”

Peter paused in the middle of his kitchen and gripped his cell phone harder. “Where in Vegas?”

“I don’t know. One of the newscasts had a segment about dumbest robberies on tape. Her face came up on one of the surveillance tapes.”

“You’re joking? We’re talking Las Vegas. Do you have any idea—”

“Just do it. All you need to do is focus on the roulette wheel. Eventually you’ll find her hanging around one of them.” A long drawn out sigh came from the other end of the line. “Don’t screw up.”

“I won’t.” With his free hand, Peter pulled the dead rabbit from the kitchen’s sink. The warm, limp body bowed over his hand as he carried it to a large, glass cage where he placed it gently inside.

“Well, just remember Andy. I took care of him two years ago when he made such a mess of things with Hunter.”

At Ferguson’s warning, Peter clenched his jaw. The guy was a prick. If Ferguson wanted to keep Peter in line by threats of him ending up dead like Andy, then the guy was doing it all wrong. Peter didn’t scare easily. Not anymore. He’d lost it all—friends, family, his job and the respect of his coworkers. If Ferguson pushed him too far, he’d soon find out Peter would be the one calling the shots. Peter would sooner kill Ferguson before getting shit on.

“I don’t screw up like Andy.”

“Keep it that way. I want you to get the job done.”

Peter shrugged a shoulder. “That’s what I get paid for.”

“Remember that. Andy didn’t seem to ‘get it.’” A pause of silence followed. “I’ve got another chance with Hunter, and this time everything’s going to go my way. No mistakes. You understand?”


Peter disconnected the line and looked down into the aquarium-like cage. George, his red-tailed boa, had taken the rabbit’s head into his mouth. Over the course of two hours, George would alternatively extend the opposite sides of his face and milk the animal’s body down his esophagus until it disappeared between his extended jaws.

You can read more about Shrouded in Illusion here. For a limited time it is on sale for 99 cents along with the rest of the series.

From Author Caris Roane

photo Caris Roane black borderHi, everyone!  This week’s theme, villains, was easy for me because I’ve got a b-a-d one for you from BORN IN CHAINS, my current paranormal release!  In this scene, from chapter 10, Lily has a vision of the evil one, Daniel, from the past…

Excerpt from Chapter 10 of BORN IN CHAINS…

At that moment, he leaned back, closed his eyes, and turned slowly toward her.  When he opened his eyes, he looked right at her, stepping in her direction until he was only a few feet away.  The vampire could see her, all the way from the past, he could see her.

He met and held her gaze, then looked her up and down.  She trembled and could feel that Adrien had slipped his arm around her waist, that he held her close to his side in the present, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from what she knew to be a monster from the past.

CARIS ROANE - BORN IN CHAINS - BOOK COVER - 2-20-13His eyes were a strange, yet beautiful color, like light blue with a hint of green and gold, almost a teal like Adrien’s, but lighter and flecked with gold.

His nostrils flared.  “I smell a human female.  Yes, definitely human.  But tell me, lovely one, why are you here at The Erotic Passage?”

She felt very strange, the way she had felt with Giselle.  She understood then that even from the past the vampire had enough power to enthrall her.  “I’m here looking for the extinction weapon.”

“How intriguing.”  The man smiled, showing large even teeth.  “What is your name, lovely one?”

“Lily.  Lily Haven.”

“Where are you from?”

“Arizona, near Phoenix.  Deer Valley.  But I have a place in Manhattan as well.”

His smile broadened.  “So you’re a woman of wealth?”

“Some wealth, yes.”

She began to weave on her feet, back and forth, rocking harder and harder.  Her name came to her from a great distance and suddenly the vision disappeared and Adrien was shouting at her and shaking her.

She felt herself falling backward, falling and falling, yet she never hit the floor.

Sometime later, she opened her eyes, expecting to be on the floor.  Instead, Adrien held her in his arms, his brow furrowed.

As she blinked, her brain finally righted itself.  “How long was I out?”

“Just a couple of minutes. Are you all right?  What happened?”

“A man spoke to me.”

Adrien’s brows rose.  “From a revisiting vision?  A man spoke to you from inside a vision?”  He seemed incredulous.

Lily nodded. Slowly, she left Adrien’s arms, taking deep breaths.  He released her reluctantly.

“What did he look like.”

Lily described him.  “He scared me, Adrien.”

“And his eyes were similar to mine, but lighter?”

“Yes, goldish flecks.”

Adrien turned around and dropped into the large leather chair by the door.  “Fuck.”  His scowl formed a deep furrow between his brows.

Lily had a sinking sensation in her gut.  “Who was he?”

He met her gaze.  “You probably already know.”

But it was Rumy who enlightened her.  “I guess you’re screwed because you just met our equivalent of the Prince of Darkness, Daniel the A-hole.  He gives ‘vampire’ a bad name, and that was long before I opened The Erotic Passage, long before an underworld, long before anything of importance, really.  Some say he built the black market himself, that he keeps as many rogue vampires drugged out and in service to him as he can, and he has more sex-slave rackets going than hills have ants.”

“Daniel,” Adrien murmured in a low voice.  He shaded his eyes with his hand.

“Okay,” Lily said, moving carefully through what felt like an emotional mine-field.  “I’ve just met the evil one.

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from BORN IN CHAINS.  Let the MEN IN CHAINS SERIES become a new journey for you!  To learn more about BORN IN CHAINS, to enter the release-month contest, and to read the entire first chapter:  click here!!!

000 - Caris Roane Signature - Fine




Hope you enjoyed today’s post!

Posted in C A Nicks, Caris Roane, Contemporary Romance, Excerpts, Fantasy Romance, Paranormal Romance, Themes, Vampire Romance | Comments Off

Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 6) by Felicity Heaton – Available Now

Felicity here. I have a new release. The sixth book in my Her Angel romance series is now available in ebook and paperback around the world.

Here’s all about it, including an excerpt from the book and the buy links:


Her Wicked Angel - paranormal romance BookHer 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?

Available in e-book from:
Amazon Kindle | Amazon Kindle UK | Amazon Kindle Canada

Smashwords | Apple iBookstore USA | Apple iBookstore UK | Apple iBookstore Canada | Apple iBookstore Australia | Apple iBookstore New Zealand

Kobo Books | Barnes and Noble
Available in paperback from:
Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.com



It was a black day in Hell.

Asmodeus stood high above the bottomless pit, his amber gaze locked on the tall obsidian spires in the distance. Screams and sobs rose up from below him on the hot air, the grunts of their tormentors a harsher note in a symphony he so often enjoyed. The demons were busy today. He had been busy too until he had felt the call of his master.

As much as he had wanted to keep the Devil waiting while he had finished his latest masterpiece, he had dropped everything and left his castle in the wastelands via a portal that had brought him to the plateau above the bottomless pit.

And there he stood, debating how long he could put off crossing the cragged, grim landscape to the Devil’s fortress before his master lost his temper and called him again.

Asmodeus enjoyed pushing the male right to the limit of his patience. There was something satisfying about irritating his so-called master. The Devil would be able to sense his proximity and that he hadn’t moved in close to twenty minutes. It was a game of wills he often played with him. Who would break first?

The call came again, stronger than it had been before, a tug he felt as a physical yank on his ribs, pulling him forwards towards the fortress.

A reminder that he was given freedom in Hell, but he was not master of it.

Asmodeus tipped forwards and plummeted towards the snaking wide ribbon of lava hundreds of feet below. Hot air rushed at him, sweeping his black hair back, battering his bare chest and ruffling his feathers. He stretched his obsidian wings to their full span, caught a thermal and levelled out just metres from the fiery surface of one of the principal rivers in Hell.

He gave a leisurely flap to keep his altitude and glided across the black, forbidding terrain.

Hell’s angels stalked the land below him in their demonic forms. Dragon-like wings furled against their huge black bodies and their claws made quick work of the whimpering lesser demons they were dealing with for their master. Some demons were little more than pests in Asmodeus’s eyes, and the eyes of his master. They caused more trouble than they were worth.

Asmodeus grinned, turned into a barrel roll and swooped down at one of the small scaly brown demons. He plucked it from the ground, had snapped its neck before it could even loose a shriek, and dropped it on the head of one of the Hell’s angels in charge of cleaning up the area. The male snarled at him, exposing sharp red teeth, the fires of Hell burning in his crimson eyes.

Asmodeus flipped him off and beat his black feathered wings, resuming his course. He weaved as he flew, following the thermals that would carry him to the Devil’s fortress without him having to expend any effort. What did his master want with him?

He didn’t bother Asmodeus often. Normally, when he called upon him, it was to give him an important mission. Torture a captive demon for information on the angels. Track down a traitor in one of the more dangerous regions of Hell. Drown someone in a lake of lava.

Kill one of the angels who protected the plateau, Heaven’s only sanctioned area in Hell.

Personally, Asmodeus couldn’t see why they had access to any part of Hell. No creature of this realm was allowed to set foot in Heaven unless they were shackled and contained in the prison there. How was that fair? If Heaven could station a small contingent of angels in Hell, then Hell should be allowed to station some of its men in Heaven.

Asmodeus’s grin widened.

He had sent his pet there recently. How had he fared?

Nevar had been a guardian angel until Asmodeus had found him snooping at the pool that recorded the history of the three realms. He had dealt with the curious angel, battling him until he was weak and then pushing him over the edge. The male was tainted now, turning as wicked as his new master. Asmodeus.

He had wanted Nevar to shake Heaven, but it seemed his wolf had failed to blow down the fortress as instructed. Perhaps he should have waited until Nevar had grown stronger, the darkness within him in full control, but patience had never been his strong suit. It was part of the reason he often lost the game of wills he played with the Devil and something he was working on. Now, Asmodeus had lost track of Nevar. What was he up to?

Asmodeus wanted to know, but since he had sent the angel to Heaven and he could not leave Hell, it was impossible for him to find out. He didn’t doubt that their paths would cross again soon. Nevar had been hell-bent on killing him the last time they had seen each other. The male would be hunting him down soon enough and then Asmodeus would command him to return to Heaven and succeed this time, or die trying.

He beat his wings and shot over the spires of black rock that curved around the semi-circular courtyard of the Devil’s obsidian fortress.

The tall twin black doors opened, revealing a crack of orange light and the silhouette of a figure that looked tiny in comparison.

Asmodeus lowered his feet and glided down to land on the black flagstones. He set down on his left foot and casually walked from there, furling his large wings against his bare back at the same time. The feathers grazed the gold-edged black strips of armour protecting his hips with each step and the longest ones curled forwards to caress his black knee-high leather boots and the metal plates that shielded his shins.

The Devil reached the top of the steps that led down from his fortress and straightened out the cuffs of his impeccable black suit jacket in a way that told Asmodeus he was on the verge of losing his cool.

The handsome black-haired male lifted his amber gaze and pinned Asmodeus with a glare that sent a shiver through him. A bolt of fire and lightning followed it, zinging through his blood and bones, a fierce reminder of the power this male wielded and a warning not to keep him waiting again.

The power flowing over him grew stronger and Asmodeus gritted his teeth as his knees trembled and fought to remain standing, refusing to succumb to the Devil’s will.

He would never go to his knees unwillingly.


Asmodeus clenched his fists, every muscle tensing against the strain of remaining upright. Sweat broke out across his brow. His limbs shook and his breathing quickened, but he kept his gaze locked on the Devil’s, holding it and showing him that he wouldn’t back down.

He would not submit.

A curvaceous naked female stepped out of the fortress, wavering as she walked slowly towards the Devil, a distant look in her dark eyes. She draped her hands over his shoulders and rubbed herself against his back, mewling softly at the same time.

The Devil huffed and the pressure bearing down on Asmodeus lifted.

“Go back inside,” the Devil muttered and touched the female’s hand. She obeyed, turning away from him and plodding back into the fortress.

The Devil had been busy recently.

His Hell’s angels had been bringing him female after female for him to seduce ever since his daughter, Erin, and the traitor Hell’s angel had escaped his grasp. The Devil had even taken to keeping some of the mortal women with him at the fortress, creating himself a harem.

Attempting to bring another child into this dark world.

A difficult task to accomplish when there were few females strong enough to bring his child to term.

Erin was a rare success in a sea of failures.

The Devil had only managed to produce one single offspring in thousands of years of trying.

Asmodeus didn’t think his current desperate tactic of sleeping with as many females as possible in an extremely short span of time would produce the result the male was looking for. Erin would birth her child soon and then she would be back to fight her father for his throne.

Asmodeus couldn’t wait.

Hell was about to get very interesting.

Until then, Asmodeus was content with amusing himself watching the Devil grow increasingly frustrated and desperate. Weak.

He had never seen the Devil this weak before, not in the thousands of years he had lived.

“What business do you have with me?” Asmodeus casually preened his feathers, preparing them for the flight home, and ignored the Devil’s scowl.

The male hated it when he spoke to him without an ounce of respect. Everyone else under his command simpered and scraped at his feet. As far as Asmodeus was concerned, the Devil had enough pathetic creatures kissing his expensive Italian leather shoes. Asmodeus wasn’t about to join them. He was above them.

The Devil’s right hand man.

A male created for destruction and bloodshed.

“You are to travel to the mortal realm and retrieve a female for me.”

Asmodeus’s black eyebrows pinched in a frown and it took him a moment to absorb exactly what the Devil had said and the connotations it contained.

One, he was ordering him to lower himself to the role of minion, retrieving him another female for his harem. Treating him like a servant. That irked him. He was not just another of the Devil’s servants.

Two, he was offering him a taste of the mortal world, granting him leave to step outside the environs of Hell for the first time in his existence. That intrigued Asmodeus. He had always wanted to see the mortal realm with his own eyes and experience it.

Asmodeus stared at him, weighing his options. Swallow his pride and finally fly in the world above, seeing the buildings and the colours, and all the things he had only ever seen in the pool on the plateau, or tell the Devil to stick it and spend the next week in the cells, probably tortured, possibly maimed permanently for his disobedience.

Asmodeus swallowed his pride and it tasted bitter. “Fine.”

The Devil grinned, revealing short fangs. “Good. You will find her in Paris, in the middle of the park near the base of the Eiffel Tower. She will be wearing crimson and black. Bring her to me.”

Asmodeus nodded, took a step backwards and then turned away from the Devil.

He threw his hand out in front of him and a black vortex appeared, swirling like smoke. It had been many centuries since he had bothered practicing glamours and veils, having given up on ever leaving Hell and having no need for changing his appearance in this realm. He hoped he hadn’t forgotten how to cast them.

Asmodeus focused on himself, casting a veil so none would see him when he stepped through the portal into the mortal realm.

“Bring her to me quickly, Asmodeus,” the Devil said behind him and Asmodeus nodded again.

Perhaps he would dally just a little. Who knew when the Devil would allow him to leave Hell again?

He stepped through the black portal and tensed as he appeared in the mortal realm. His eyes watered and he blinked against the assault of strong light, leaning back into the shade of the tower that speared the blue sky above him.


Asmodeus tipped his head back and stared up at it, and then looked at his surroundings. Green trees. Dark metal. Pale stone. Mortals dressed in a multitude of colours. The warm air carried strange scents. Dust. Something sweet. Smoke. Sounds came from every direction. Blasts of noise and distant rumbles of what he suspected were vehicles. Constant chatter. Laughter. Squeals of happiness. All alien to him.

All choking and closing in on him.

He didn’t like it.

He took a step back towards the portal behind him and glared at everyone as they passed. Ants. Hundreds of them. Swarming. Shoving. Jostling each other. He wanted to kill them all. They were noisy. Brutal. Irritating.



Asmodeus grinned, his golden eyes narrowing with it, and flexed his fingers. His fangs began to lengthen and his black claws followed them.

Prey for the hunter.

He would drown out the disgusting scents with the smell of blood. He would replace joy with fear, with screams and sobs and pointless pleas for mercy. He would bathe this colourful world in crimson.


A flash of that colour caught his eye and his gaze zeroed in on it. It was gone, lost in the sea of other hues. It flickered again, further off to his right, and his eyes shot to it. Wavy chestnut hair bounced against crimson ruffled material with each light step. He caught a sliver of black jeans. Crimson and black. The female the Devil wanted.

She turned and he glimpsed her face, and his desire to bathe his hands in the blood of these puny creatures slipped away, calm suffusing him, making him forget his irritation and dark desires.

She blinked, black lashes shuttering luminous hazel eyes, and turned away, continuing onwards towards a strip of green land to his right beyond the shadow of the tower.

Asmodeus felt a tug behind his breastbone, pulling him in her direction, but something told him it wasn’t the Devil commanding him to follow her. It was something else that made him want to track her through the crowd.
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Themed Friday – Wet – Excerpts from H D Thomson, Felicity Heaton, Caris Roane and Alexandra Marell

Every week our Indie Romance Books authors contribute to a theme of the week. This week’s theme is – Wet!


From Author H D Thomson

This scene if from Shrouded in Mystery where Katherine gets an unexpected peek of Clark all wet and clean from a shower when she is peering into his bedroom window from outside. I really enjoyed writing this scene!


Suddenly, Clark stepped into the room with a tiny, white towel wrapped low on his hips. His hair, still damp from a shower, looked as if he’d raked it back with both hands. Katherine had a clear impression of his face without his glasses, and it was startling at the dramatic change. His thick-framed glasses had given him an air of intelligence, of reticence, but without them, the hard thrust of his jaw, his prominent cheekbones conveyed a merciless face.

A fine sheen of moisture clung to his body, emphasizing the taut muscles of his arms and the sleek expanse of his chest and stomach. He had long, well-defined legs with a smattering of dark hair across his thighs and calves. He could have easily stepped from a fitness center commercial … or some female’s sultry fantasy. He looked like sin personified.

Before she’d recovered from the initial shock of seeing him, he yanked at the towel around his waist and dropped it on the corner of his bed. When he turned and flipped on the light to the closet, she got an eyeful. And what an eyeful. The image was absolutely, irrevocably affixed in her mind. There was no mistaking him for anything other than a man.

“Oh, my!”

She didn’t know if he’d heard her. Just the same, he turned toward the window—and saw her. The recognition in his slate, colored eyes was unmistakable. For two, very slow, very agonizing seconds they stared back at each other. Embarrassment, hot and humiliating, burned up her throat to her face.

Katherine bolted, almost tripping over a mound of snow in her hurry to get away.


From Author Felicity Heaton

I have so many instances of wet heroes and heroines that it was hard for me to choose at first, and then I remembered that there’s a perfect scene for this week in my new release, Her Wicked Angel!

Her Wicked Angel

“It is only safe to bathe in one of the pools. Come.” He grasped her wrist and tugged her with him, leading her through the narrow strips of lumpy black ground between the rocky-edged bubbling pools towards the largest one at the back. It steamed gently, mist curling and rising, dancing across its placid surface, and was paler than the others too, a milky quality to the water.

“Is it really safe?” She eyed it suspiciously. It did look a little more inviting than she had imagined water would in this inhospitable land, but she still couldn’t bring herself to trust it.

“It is safe, Liora. I would never allow anything to happen to you.” Asmodeus released her hand, bent at the edge of the pool with effort and a serious grimace that she pretended not to see, and ran his hand through the water. He rose to stand before her and held up his hand, a smile teasing his lips. “See, it has not melted off my fingers or done me any harm. Come.”

He held his hand out with his palm facing her and she sucked down a breath for courage and then pressed her fingers against his wet ones. Nothing happened other than a jolt of electricity shocking every nerve along her arm as they touched. Asmodeus’s eyes darkened again and her pulse picked up, nerves kicking it into overdrive.

If she bathed him as she had said she wanted to then she wasn’t going to stop there. Once she laid her hands on the delicious six-foot-plus of sexy before her, she wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to take things to the next level. Once she pushed him over that ledge, there would be no coming back. He wouldn’t settle for just a taste of her. She knew that. He would want all of her and she would be powerless to deny him.

“You’re sure people can’t see us here?” She cast a glance around at the hills above and the plain behind her.

“The only people in Hell are in the Devil’s prisons… but demons do not come here, and nor do Hell’s angels. We are alone, Liora.”

And he liked it. She could hear it in his voice and the way it dropped to a sultry growl. He had her all to himself and he was in his element, and there would be no stopping him now. He wanted her. She shivered at the thought of him touching her, teasing her flesh with his warm tongue and scraping fangs over her breasts, her thighs. Her belly fluttered and heated.

“You think wicked things,” Asmodeus drawled in a gruff, thick voice heavy with hunger and passion.

She nodded and bit her lower lip. She thought very wicked things indeed, and now that she had him all to herself and he was in his element, there would be no stopping her.

Liora stepped towards him and trailed her fingers down his bare chest and over the hard ridges of his stomach. She lingered close to his navel before running her fingertips over the waist of the armour that protected his hips.

“You can’t bathe in this,” she whispered, shocked by how breathless she sounded. “It’ll get rusty.”

His lips quirked again and fire filled his eyes, hunger that echoed within her. He captured her hands, held them a moment, and then moved them away from his waist.

Liora stepped back so she could fully admire him as he stripped off the metal armour around his hips, revealing the black loincloth he wore beneath. If she had sounded breathless before, she could barely speak now. He stole her voice as he moved, his powerful cut muscles bunching and relaxing, enticing her to stop him so she could trail her lips over each and every one of them and moan her approval. He bent and removed the armour that protected his shins, and then his black leather boots.

He placed them carefully near the pool and she bit back a smile. He valued what little armour he had and she could understand why. He had already lost vital pieces of it, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. If she could, she would hire the best blacksmiths in the world to craft armour of his liking and give it to him so he felt complete again.

Asmodeus turned his back to her and all rational thought fled at the sight of his delicious backside wonderfully cupped by tight black material. Liora wanted to rip it off with her teeth.

He ran his hands around the waist, paused, glanced back at her and then lowered his hands to his sides. She allowed a small smile to break free at the brief display of nerves and uncertainty. She had meant nude bathing but it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to take that step. If she hadn’t thought him innocent in that department before, she would have thought it now. He had never been naked before a woman, and she wanted to be his first.

He stepped into the pool and the milky water covered him to his knees. It was deeper than she had expected it to be. On her, the surface would be somewhere around mid-thigh and stepping down into it was going to be a challenge.

Asmodeus moved to the edge of the pool opposite her, casually sat down and ducked his head under the water. Liora wanted a slow-motion replay of the moment he surfaced, droplets of water racing over his dirty skin, pushed his wet black hair back with one hand and pinned her with his intense, fiery eyes.

The confidence in them wavered as she crouched and tested the water for herself. It was hot, maybe a degree or two too much for her taste, but it didn’t eat her hand like acid and she really was itching for a bath.

Liora straightened and hesitated only a second before grabbing the hem of her crimson top and pulling it off over her head. She felt Asmodeus’s gaze on her stomach the second she revealed it and the intensity of his eyes on her and the way she always felt aware of him made her belly flutter again.

She held it together, refusing to show her nerves, and dropped her top on the ground behind her. Asmodeus’s gaze remained rooted on her stomach, darkening by degrees, verging on red again. Clearly, anger wasn’t the only emotion that triggered a change in his eyes.

She tackled her belt and was popping the button on her jeans when he caught on and caught up, and his eyes darted down, following her every move as she unzipped her jeans and then pushed them down her legs. It gave her the courage to keep going even as the confidence was draining from his eyes, his nerves surfacing again. She toed off her boots, stepped out of her jeans and straightened so Asmodeus could get a good view of her. She had ogled him after all. It was only fair she let him do the same.

He growled low in his throat, his eyes burning crimson now, swirling with gold fire.

Liora blushed.

It was the first time a man had growled his approval of her slender build and she wasn’t going to deny that there was something wicked and sexy about the way he chose to let her know that he liked what he saw. Dangerous.

His confidence was clinging on for dear life though. She could see it in the depths of his eyes and the way they flickered between hers and her body, and the water.

Liora decided to have mercy on him.

He had remained in his underwear-of-sorts. She would remain in hers. Small steps. It wouldn’t do to push him too far and make him feel mocked. She had seen how violently he could react to feeling belittled and shamed and she didn’t want anything to spoil this moment. She would play things cool, take her time, and let it all progress at a natural speed. Asmodeus was used to being in control. Liora wasn’t averse to letting him take the lead. It would be a nice change.

She stepped down into the pool and rather awkwardly ended up almost falling in face first because of the difference in height between the plain and the bottom of the hot spring.

Another blush crept up her cheeks and she masked it by cupping some water and pouring it over her hair, and then slicking it back from her face. Asmodeus didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment at all. He was too busy staring at her breasts and the beads of water trailing down her skin and soaking into her black bra.

Liora waded towards him. His expression turned uneasy and he leaned back against the side of the pool and rested his arms along it in what would have been a casual way had he not looked half scared out of his wits.

She held back another smile and sank lower in the middle of the pool, letting it lap at her hips.

A moan escaped her, tugging another husky growl from her dark angel. She wouldn’t have been able to hold it in even if she had tried.

The water felt wonderful, hot and steamy, and fresh. The air around the pool didn’t smell as much as that around the castle and she breathed deep of it, savouring the slight salty tang that laced it. Minerals? She had done a couple of mineral soaks in her life and had always felt wonderful afterwards. The barely leashed passion in Asmodeus’s eyes said she would feel wonderful after this bath too, but it wouldn’t be because of the minerals.


Read more about Her Wicked Angel and the Her Angel series at: http://www.indieromancebooks.com/romance-books.php?title=Her%20Wicked%20Angel&author=Felicity%20Heaton


From Author Caris Roane

photo Caris Roane black borderHi, everyone!  Today’s theme of ‘wet’ was fun to explore and I found one of my favorite scenes for you.  This excerpt comes from the first book of my Blood Rose Series, called, EMBRACE THE DARK.  In this scene, battle-weary master vampire, Gerrod, finds a bath waiting for him prepared by the woman he’s been trying desperately to avoid for a full year!


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Gerrod met Abigail’s gaze as he took off his fighting leathers. He was naked as he handed them to her. She folded them up but in so doing, some of the dried blood, and some not so dry from the nicks he had received, ended up on her arms and hands. Fortunately, he healed quickly and the various cuts were long gone.

She gasped, just a little, then squared her shoulders. She settled the pants beside his boots.

When he stood there, now fully aroused in front of a woman he desired, her gaze dipped to his erection then back to his eyes. She gestured to the tub and smiled. “Get in, Gerrod. And when you can tolerate it, sink beneath the water. I mean to wash your hair.”

He was sore from battling and very tired. He was also weak from blood starvation. He stumbled getting in, but righted himself only to find her hand on his back as if to steady him. The gesture moved something in his heart and suddenly he hurt so deep that he wished her gone, wished he had never met her, wished she had kept her kindnesses to herself.

How long had it been since he had known such attention and care? Yes, his people were good to him and showed him many respectful tender gestures. But he never let anyone get this close that after a battle, he might be soothed.

He sank into the water, pulling the woven clasp from his hair and let it drop to the stone floor. “The temperature is perfect,” he said. He didn’t look at her until she leaned over and slid her hands in the water as well and began rinsing the blood from her arms. Then she drew close, hovering above his lips. He leaned up slightly, which encouraged her so that she came down to him the rest of the way and kissed him, a soft warm pressure, and so very welcome.

He sighed when she drew back. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I have seen how you care for your people and I appreciate what you do. I have known you long enough, Gerrod, to understand that there is no one to comfort you. So I thought, just this once, I would do what I could, with no plan in mind other than to give you what I can this dawn, maybe to comfort you, if I could. But please don’t worry. I have no purpose other than that, no hopes or intention for sharing a future with you. Rest assured, there is no obligation here except to enjoy the moment.”

He nodded, closed his eyes and sank beneath the water, a sort of baptism….

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from EMBRACE THE DARK!  Let the Blood Rose Series become a new journey for you!  To learn more:  CLICK HERE!!!



From Author Alexandra Marell

What Harm in a Little Flirting?  – a flashfic (390 words)

man woman in rain 5

She should have worn a jacket. And so should the man sheltering with her in the underpass. The day, which had started as unseasonably warm, had quickly degenerated into a series of short, sharp deluges that had obviously caught them both by surprise.

He smiled genially at her, totally unconcerned that the April shower had plastered his shirt to his chest, outlining the kind of ripped torso normally reserved for the cover of romance novels.

Which meant that her…oh no, the rain had rendered her blouse virtually see-through. No wonder he was smiling. Well, let him smile. Two could play at this game. Inclining her head, Emily levelled her gaze with the centre of his chest and gave him a slow, appreciative smile of her own.

He looked down, puzzled and then raised his eyebrows. His smile turned into a smirk.

The staring contest lasted all of five minutes. The longest five minutes of her life, while the angry cloud that had appeared so suddenly, pounded its fury on the roof of the underpass and rained itself out.

She hadn’t figured herself for an exhibitionist, but she hadn’t been about to back down from his challenge, either.

Besides, what harm in a little flirting?  She had to admit, his appreciative gaze had given her the boost she needed today.

She glanced at her watch. Oh lord, late as usual. Not that this annual appointment ever gave her an incentive to hurry.

“Doctor Jones will see you now.”

“Doctor Jones? What happened to Doctor Ellis?”

“Oh, he retired. But Doctor Jones is very nice.”

“Well, I hope he has warm hands,” Emily said, cracking her annual joke. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to the doctor’s office.

She wasn’t sure which of them looked more shocked. Mr Underpass, now in a crisp white coat, his hair dried and slicked back, both hands encased in latex gloves. Or her, frozen at the door and wondering whether she would make it to the nearest exit without falling flat on her face.

The sound of the curtain zipping around the rail surrounding the couch jolted them both out of their surprise.

“Come along, Miss Armstrong. Behind the curtain with you and let’s get you ready.”

His nurse gave her an encouraging smile, ushering her forward while at the window the patter of rain quickly turned to a crescendo…


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Posted in Alexandra Marell, Caris Roane, Excerpts, Felicity Heaton, H D Thomson, Paranormal Romance, The Blood Rose Series, Themes, Vampire Romance | Comments Off

Themed Friday – Moon – Excerpts from H D Thomson, F E Heaton, Caris Roane and C A Nicks

Every week our Indie Romance Books authors contribute to a theme of the week. This week’s theme is – Moon!


From Author H D Thomson

The moon can mean many things to many people. It can instil romance, terror or loneliness. I’m hoping it adds a bit of chill to the excerpt below…

Shrouded In Darkness

Moonlight pierced through the one window across from the desk, illuminating the tables, equipment and enough of the laboratory floor for him to cross the room without banging a foot or shin. At the window, he rested a hand against its edge as he peered outside. The night greeted him, the only time he felt comfortable since the explosion. He welcomed the shadows, which clung to the pines and rolling snow, camouflaging the mice, owls, and other small creatures he knew were out there.

A storm was due in tonight, but he didn’t see any signs. Stars winked from above, and a stillness, a hushed sense of expectation washed over the night, or it could be his own imagination, his own hopes that he might find the key to unlocking the formula.

He glanced up at Margot’s house. It sat on the hill, darker, thicker than the other shadows. Even though the sun had long since dipped behind the barren trees, the windows were absent of light. She was up there, though. Somewhere.

But what was she doing? Working? Drinking? Or staring off into some nameless space. He’d caught her doing that a number of times, thinking of God knew what as the house darkened around her. Was she remembering what had happened between them last night? She must have felt the same passion, the same hunger that still burned through his body. God, she’d been so soft and supple in his arms. The scent of her had driven him insane.

He’d been on her like a rutting dog and so damned close to going up those stairs after her. And he still wanted to, wanted to walk out of here and up the snow covered hill to her house. He wanted her hot, whimpering for him.

He placed his brow against the glass. The chilled pane soothed his burning skin. From past experience, he knew he had a temperature. Even though mild, dangerous nonetheless.

Disgusted with his lack of self-control, he pushed away from the window. He had no time for sex. If he wanted to live long enough to have a good time in bed, he needed to get back to the computer and work. The answer had to be somewhere. He knew John had safeguarded a copy of the formula for him, but the question was where. It wasn’t anywhere on John’s computer or in the lab. Jake had made a thorough sweep, while he’d also searched every room in Margot’s house. As for the idea of it being destroyed in the car crash with John—Jake didn’t even want to think about it.

Sinking down in his chair, he focused on the numbers and equations in front of him. Concentration and determination were critical to unraveling Miracell. He’d get his answer or die trying. He laughed bitterly. That last thought came too damn close to the truth.

As he reached for another breath mint, a frigid breeze brushed against his skin. He stilled, his hand suspended in mid-air. The heater was on. He’d made sure, keeping the room regulated for the experiments he had to conduct. Shivering, he pushed away from the desk with a foot. The chair rolled and swiveled over the hard, linoleum floor as he turned.

A man in a bulky, down jacket stood in front of the laboratory’s closed door. Malcolm. He’d slipped inside without Jake realizing.

“Hello, Jake.”

The air locked in Jake’s lungs for one, two…three seconds. Then he expelled it into one harsh sigh. He sat unmoving, as frozen and brittle as the trees outside.

Malcolm stepped further into the lab, and a beam of moonlight glittered off a gun. “Shocked? You shouldn’t be. You knew I’d catch up to you.”


From Author F E Heaton

I’m sharing a flash fic from my F E Heaton persona today… and this time it’s with the most popular character in my Vampires Realm series, Hyperion!

The Moon and the Cherry Tree

Slender moonlight filtered down on him. It whispered to him, calling to his blood, touching him right down to his core. It spoke of how they belonged together. The moon ruled the darkness. Hyperion ruled the night. He was the splendid pale orb that all eyes turned to in the vampire world, looking up at him, seeking his light.

That light fractured into silvery ribbons when it met the ghostly pale blossoms on the lonely cherry tree.

Hyperion lay beneath it, his back against the broad trunk and his head tipped back, basking in the beauty above. A warm breeze stirred the white flowers, spreading their scent on the wind and casting him back one hundred years to the last time he had visited this land. It had been on a night like this that their paths had crossed again following their stormy first meeting and her beauty had arrested his steps and stolen his heart just as the cherry tree captured him now, holding him transfixed and under its sway.

She had been more beautiful than the blossom she had been named for, as delicate as its fragile petals and as soft as its scent, destined to dance away on a breeze and disappear from this world.


Hyperion lifted his hand to the sky, looking at the full moon and cherry blossoms through his splayed fingers. If only he could have grasped her more tightly and held her to him. If only he could have faced the fear of watching her wither and fade away. If only.

He had been convinced that such a beauty would not have survived in the darkness of his world and that it would have been cruel to bring her into it. She had needed light to bloom and feed the warmth in her smile and her heart, and that was something he never could have given to her.

He closed his fingers into a fist and stared at it. She had been within his grasp though, her beautiful smiles and precious laughter reserved for his eyes and his ears. She had given him everything that she had denied her clients, supplying them with hollow imitations of their splendour. He had taken them all, feasted on them. They had been his medicine to ease his pain.

His salvation and his destruction.

The white cherry tree swayed above him, dancing in the wind that stirred his dark hair and caressed his skin, carrying the perfume of the other blooming trees in the grove and the city beyond. Hyperion watched each blossom on the tree above as they performed a timeless ballet that could only end in one way. A single flower caught in the breeze and broke free, pirouetting through the air, continuing its dance until it finally came to rest on his black-clad legs. He plucked the delicate blossom from his thigh and brought it to his nose, inhaling the subtle sweetness of its scent. His Sakura had smelt as sweet as this one. She had worn blossoms in her hair and on her kimono. She had bloomed for him and in that moment she had ruined him to all others.

Hyperion crushed the blossom in his fist and frowned at the moon and the tree. Two different worlds that created such beauty when brought together, but that were destined to remain apart. A cherry tree couldn’t bloom with only the moon as its light. The moon could only watch the tree from afar, longing to smell the sweetness of its fragrance and feel its soft flowers, knowing that it would never be his. The cherry tree thrived on light, but the moon could only offer the gentlest of caresses, a ghostly cold touch under midnight skies that would fade with the rising of the sun, driven away by the world where the tree truly belonged and could flourish.

The world that the cherry tree blossomed for.

Not the moon’s world.

A world of warmth and light. The human world.

A world that Sakura had needed more than him. Or so he had thought. He had surrendered her to the human world, believing that she had no place in his, desiring her to retain her fragile beauty regardless of the pain it caused him and seek a happier life that she deserved. He had carried her in his heart, forever true to her, willing to remain that way until the end of his days. He had thought her long dead, alive only within his memories.

He had thought wrong.

Hyperion closed his eyes and listened to the moon, to the darkness around him. The call to hunt was strong but another desire eclipsed it.

The need to rise to his feet and continue his search for the one thing he had never dreamed he would see with his own eyes again. The woman who had walked back into his life barely two years ago looking as she had when he had left her a century earlier in this very city.

He opened his fist and looked down at the crushed blossom in his hand. Now that it had fallen, daylight would only speed its ruin. Now only moonlight and darkness could preserve it. The cool touch of the night not the heat of day.

Hyperion pushed himself onto his feet, reached up to the branches of the cherry tree and plucked a fresh white blossom.

Someone had dared to pluck the rare bloom he had left to flower in the human world and brought it into the darkness.

As payment for their insolence, he would take their life and take back what was his.

The cherry blossom would bloom again only it would be under the light of the moon.

They would be together again.

This time forever.

I hope you liked this flash fic and you can find out more about this character and the series at the Vampires Realm website.


From Author Caris Roane

What works better in a paranormal romance than the moon?  In this scene from my current release, EMBRACE THE MAGIC, the heroine grapples with her recent discovery that she’s not just human, but a lot more!  The moon shows up, a lovely presence!  Enjoy!

Embrace the MagicFrom Chapter 2 of EMBRACE THE MAGIC…

As Samantha drove home, she kept shaking her head like she needed to clear her ears of water. What she’d learned tonight had set her on her heels and she could hardly make sense of it all. On some level, she felt like she moved through a dream and that maybe the events at the prave had never really happened.

She hadn’t imagined the vision, though, because it existed inside her now like a living, breathing thing. She could feel the images moving near the edges of her mind and that if she wanted, she could experience the whole thing all over again.

She knew from her studies of the realm-world that very powerful fae women were known to have visions. She stopped at a stoplight, watched it turn green but only stepped on the gas when the car behind her honked.

She needed to pay better attention to the road.

She kept her thoughts simpler.

She’d had a vision; she wouldn’t deny the truth.

But something else became clear as she turned down her street: The vision was fae.

She’d had a fae vision.

Which meant…

She was part fae.

And the fae part of her dominated the human part.

Pulling into her driveway, she sat in her car for several long, astonished minutes.

Part fae?

But how could that be?

She got out of the car and turned to stare up at a clear sky with a full moon. The April Louisiana night air was soft on her skin, not cloying like it would become in just a few more weeks.

The hour had to be past midnight.

Time even felt different to her now. She knew the hour and the minute: 12:11.

She pulled out her cell: 12:11.

How did she know the time like that?

She shook her head yet again as she made her way to the front door of what was once her beloved grandmother’s home, now hers. She loved the small old house, built a long time ago. It grew into its creaking floors and musty smell, all familiar like songs that had been sung but kept echoing down each hall.


And a blood rose.

Her heart seemed to lumber in her chest now, and when she touched her neck, the vein rose. She could feel it beneath her skin, rising for what? As though she didn’t know. Rising for a sharp pair of fangs that belonged to a vampire.

A specific vampire.

A mastyr vampire, powerful, built, gorgeous, and weighed down with responsibility.

That’s what she felt when she thought of Mastyr Ethan, that he bore the weight of Bergisson Realm like a stone strapped to his back.

The moment images of him moved through her mind, however, her heart began to beat really hard, like nothing she’d ever known before. She dismissed the thought that she might be having a heart attack since her newly discovered faeness knew better. A need swept over her, to reach out to Ethan, to leave her house, to enter Bergisson, to find him and to feed him, just like in the vision, to offer up her blood as his blood rose…

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt of EMBRACE THE MAGIC.  To learn more, CLICK HERE!!!


From Author C A Nicks

This is an unedited excerpt from my upcoming release A Wolf Christmas. I’m hoping to have it for sale late October.

Christopher Hadon, one of the Wolves of Hadon Moor, an aristocratic wolf clan, works as a mercernary wolf for hire. Estranged from his clan, his speciality is rescuing young women from the clutches of the brothel-mongers of Industrial Victorian Manchester. Since the kidnapping of his younger sister one Christmas, he’s vowed to do all he can to stop other young women suffering her fate. When he rescues Rowena from a brothel, the weather conspires against them and he’s forced to take her home with him to the isolated Hadon House. She begs for a few days respite to get over her ordeal before rejoining her family. But the moon is growing fuller and stronger and with it, Christopher’s wolf is taking control…

This is the temporary working cover

wolf christmas 3

Manchester, England. December 1889  (the excerpt takes place at Christopher’s isolated house on Hadon Moor, which I imagined as part of the rugged Lancashire Moors behind my house. )

It had stopped snowing.

Almost without thinking, Christopher rose from the bed and then crossed the room. Here, the curtains were never closed. The night never shut out like an unwelcome visitor. Clouds raced across the sky, chased by the wind, taking with it the storm. Revealing the sky beyond, lit by the bright halo of the moon.

His fickle mistress. With his palms to the glass, he searched for the connection, sill faint at this time of the cycle, but come next week the pull would be a physical thing, a need he would be unable to resist. He looked forward to it with anticipation and dread. At full moon, he was almost pure wolf, powerful, sure. So full of energy, he could run at full speed for miles and never tire.

“Come.” Extending a hand to Rowena, he called her to him. “Let me show you something.”

Huddled in the oversized dressing gown, she fit neatly under his arm. He pulled her close, savouring the scent of their intimacy that clung to her like the most exquisite of perfumes. A scent that said she was his, if even for a short time.

“Next week she will be full.”

Rowena leaned her head against his shoulder, lifting enquiring eyes to his. “Wolves are governed by the moon, are they not?”

“We are. I can already feel her, calling to me.” He couldn’t keep the longing from his voice “Sometimes I think she’ll drive me insane.”

“The lunacy? I’ve heard my father speak of that. He believes there’s a perfectly good scientific explanation for it.”

Christopher gave a sceptical laugh. “I’d like to hear it.”It’s hard to explain. At full moon I feel so alive, so invincible and yet at the same time there’s a terrible sorrow that comes from a place I can’t reach. That’s the real madness. Sometimes I feel as if I could tear out my own heart just to stop the pain.”

“That’s so terribly sad.” She pressed closer. “Is there no help for you? Can I do anything?”

“Can you turn into a she-wolf?” He gazed down at her, imagining her dark eyes bright and golden, the pupils elongated. It would certainly solve one of his problems.

Did she know the answer to his question? The thoughts coursing through his mind? If she did, she wouldn’t be standing so trusting with him.

“They say that wolf-kin can be made as well as born of wolf parents. Is it true?”

He answer surprised him. More for her matter-of-fact tone than her knowledge of wolf-lore.

“One bite,” he said, his mouth already watering, his canines tingling. “That’s all it takes.”

“Does it happen immediately?”

“No, gradually. Over the course of one moon cycle. What, are you planning to write a thesis on me?”

He’d said it in jest, but he didn’t miss the guilty blush creeping across her cheeks. The thought of humans standing earnestly around discussing things they would never understand, amused him. They would dissect and explain and come to conclusions, but they would never even begin to know the reality of what he kept inside.

“It would make a fascinating subject of study,” she said, tracing the outline of the moon on the glass with a finger. “Do you not wish humans to understand you better?”

“About as much as I wish to understand them. Rowena, all you need know about me is that in the next few days I won’t be able to vouch for my actions. He nodded at the window. “You need to be gone before she takes control.”

“But as yet, you still have control?”

He couldn’t help laughing at that. “If I had, you wouldn’t be here. But I’m no danger to you.”

Rowena continued drawing patterns on the misted pane, her weight soft against his side. One little bite and his mating problems would be done for good. This monthly torment eased.

Bad thoughts with Rowena investing him with such trust.

“Then these last few hours are all we have?”

The dressing gown had fallen open, the ribbons lacing her camisole loosened. He wanted to see her naked. To have her again before the breaking dawn brought them to their senses and separated them for good.

“Don’t send me back to my room, Christopher. Let me spend them with you.” She turned to him, lips slightly parted, a sure certainty in her eyes. “Give me a night to remember you by.”

He caught her hand when she tried to touch his face. “I don’t want you to remember me. I want you to go back to your life, marry and have children. I want you to forget the trauma of the past few days ever happened.”

“And I will. All the more reason to make the most of this night.”

A gentle kiss to his knuckles was all it took to secure her release. Undaunted, she rose on tiptoe and placed another on his lips, then another until he responded by grabbing her shoulders and kissing her back, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She gave back in kind, making small, needy sounds that threatened to drive him insane. He’d never kissed, nor been kissed with such frantic desperation. Never tasted desire as sweet as this.

Damn, but any talk of control was useless in the face of her determination to seal the memory of this night so deeply, neither of them would ever forget it.

Lifting her, he walked them the few steps to the bed. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him in place while they both struggled to breathe and kiss at the same time.

When he finally let her go she lay back on the quilt, legs still around his waist, chest heaving.

“Are you sure you don’t have the power of thrall?” He traced the smooth line of her thighs, shaping her hips and narrow waist.

He could well believe she’d put some kind of spell on him. This was pure and utter madness…

A Wolf Christmas by C A Nicks, coming soon.


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Posted in C A Nicks, Caris Roane, Excerpts, F E Heaton, H D Thomson, Paranormal Romance, Shrouded, Themes | Comments Off

Themed Friday – Beach – Excerpts from Alexandra Marell and Felicity Heaton

Every week our Indie Romance Books authors contribute to a theme of the week. This week’s theme is – Beach!


From Author Felicity Heaton

Whenever I think about beaches, I think about a scene in Her Demonic Angel, the fifth book in my Her Angel romance series. Of course, it also makes me think of a wicked scene in Her Guardian Angel too, but I went with Veiron’s book when choosing my snippet this week…

Erin walked the shore hand in hand with Veiron. She had wanted to go straight back to their villa and make love with him but he had insisted that they walked a while, and while she had been annoyed at first, she was glad that he had suggested it. It was strangely peaceful on the empty beach under the moonlight, Veiron’s fingers locked tightly with hers, his large hand engulfing her smaller one and keeping the chill off her skin. Palms fringed the sweeping shore and the warm water washed over her feet, the sound of the shallow waves steadily puncturing the near silence. The noise of people at the complex was nothing but a distant hum this far along the beach. The only competition the waves had was the occasional party at one of the villas and they had left the last of them behind a few metres back.

A breeze blew in off the ocean, carrying the scent of saltwater, and Erin shivered.

Veiron stopped, untangled their hands, and wrapped his strong arm around her, pulling her against his bare chest. Erin snuggled into him and looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were black in the moonlight but not dark. They were warm and soft, full of feelings that she felt mirrored in her own heart.

She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, sweeping her thumb over his lower lip. She wanted to tell him again to be careful when he went to Hell but couldn’t find her voice, didn’t want to spoil this moment between them. It wouldn’t be their last. Nothing would happen to Veiron. Marcus would go with him and together they would be safe.

Erin kissed him instead, tiptoeing and gently capturing his lips. She kept it light, bare brushes of her lips against his, her emotions running wild with her. Veiron surprised her by doing the same, sweeping his mouth over hers and holding her close to him, his hands gentle against her back.

He drew away, breathing hard as though he had run for miles rather than stood still on a beach and kissed her. She was breathless too, alive with emotion and warmth, with all of her feelings for Veiron.

“I keep thinking about something,” he said and he sounded so serious that she pulled further away so she could see his face. He smiled wickedly. “Hot tub.”

Erin laughed. “It’s like you read my mind.”

His smile became a grin and he slipped his hand into hers, entwining their fingers, and started back along the shore with her. She walked beside him, letting the waves lap at her feet. Obviously she wasn’t walking quickly enough for Veiron’s liking because suddenly the world spun before her eyes and she was staring at his backside.

“Hey.” Erin punched his bottom and sighed to herself. So firm. The man had buns of steel.

“You’re slowing me down again,” he said with a smile in his voice.

His backside shifted as he strode purposefully along the beach with her slung over his shoulder and the cute dents either side of his spine on his lower back called to her. Erin hooked her hand into his belt, pushed herself up to relieve the pressure on her organs and fingered one of the dips with her free hand. Veiron practically purred.

The world whirled past her again and she was in his arms, cradled close to his chest.

“Damn, woman, you drive me crazy,” he growled and then kissed her, hard and rough, so passionate that her knees would have buckled had she been standing.

Erin wound her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, trying to make him growl again. He kept striding onwards and she had to wonder how he knew where he was going. Some sort of supernatural awareness of his surroundings?

He cursed under his breath and she looked down to see he was knee-deep in the sea. Maybe not. Erin giggled. Veiron growled. Not the sort of one she had wanted to hear. This one was born of frustration rather than desire.

“I said you drive me crazy, that includes scrambling my senses until I can’t think straight around you… fuck, I need you, Erin… tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’re only mine and I’m the only one you want in all the three realms.” The look he gave her was pure animal hunger and Erin melted, her blood heating to a thousand degrees, burning for him. “Tell me and I will swear to you that I am yours, now and forever.”

Heavens, could this man get any better? He growled, snarled and fought like a wild thing, like a warrior, but he had the heart of a poet. A heart that she was beginning to think now belonged to her.


From Author Alexandra Marell

This is an excerpt from my novella, Setting Him Free, which is free right now on most amazon sites, smashwords and Barnes and Noble.

shf 4

It was that dream again. Danielle, looking at him with such yearning and love. Telling him she wanted him and would never leave him. He blinked, the image shimmered and faded, and he was alone once more.

Taylor stood at the shoreline, hands in pockets. Wild, angry waves crashed over his bare feet, soaking the hem of his jeans, matching his mood. He wanted the anger. Needed it so he could do what he had to do.

The envelope was folded, in his back pocket. Still unopened. He pulled it out, already knowing what would happen when he did open it.

“It’s me or you, mate,” he muttered. “Who’s it going to be?”

Ripping the envelope open, he carefully pulled out the photograph. An unremarkable face stared back at him, circled in red ink, his smiling family around him. A soft target; he could tell that already. His Grandfather had at least done that for him. Single shot should do it.

Taylor placed two fingers over the man’s face, blanking it out, leaving only his smiling family in view. Two girls, one on each arm. An adoring wife, soon to be a widow. Taylor closed his eyes. Fatherless children. Grieving wives. How many had he been responsible for? He didn’t even know. Had stopped counting a long time ago. He lifted his fingers and gave the man back to his family. Covered him again. Playing God, that’s what he was doing. All that stood between him and Danielle was this one man, who he didn’t know and didn’t want to know.

He stared at the photo one last time and pushed it back into the envelope.

“I guess this is your lucky day, mate.”

Without hesitation, he tore the whole lot into four pieces and threw them into the sea. They floated around his feet on the incoming tide, taunting him for his weakness, or strength, he still wasn’t sure which. He walked back to the cottage with no idea of what his next move should be. He didn’t know what to feel about his decision. It was hard to feel anything at all.


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Posted in Alexandra Marell, Angel Romance, Contemporary Romance, Excerpts, Felicity Heaton, Her Angel, Paranormal Romance, Themes | Comments Off

Themed Friday – Muddy – Flashfic from Alexandra Marell / C A Nicks And Excerpts from H D Thompson And Caris Roane

Every week our Indie Romance Books authors contribute to a theme of the week. This week’s theme is – Muddy!


From Author Alexandra Marell / C A Nicks

Another flashfic for you this week – The Return of Sean O’Neil (1073 Words)

sean o'neil

She could hardly miss the mud-caked boots lying on the front porch. Nor the sound of the lusty baritone belting out the Song O’ Morn, accompanied by the gentle slosh of water from the tin tub in the scullery.

Pressing her lips together, Fiona bent to pick up the carelessly discarded and equally muddy jacket and hung it on a peg before making her way down the corridor to the back kitchen.

Instead of going directly to the voice, she took a moment to fill an enamel bucket with cold water from the pump at the stone sink.

The singing stopped.

“Is that you, Fiona m’darlin? The voice enquired.

“That it is, Sean O’ Neill. That it is.”

“Well, come on in here, me beauty. I’m a little muddy and there’s places only a woman can reach. If you catch me drift?”

Stepping into the scullery, she tried not to notice the ripple of muscle rising from the dirty brown water, the black hair, softly curling at his nape, the smile that could charm a leprechaun out of his gold. Carefully placing the bucket on the stone floor, she searched for the anger instead.

“Don’t you my beauty me, Sean O’ Neill. Where have you been these past weeks?”

His crooked grin left her in no doubt that the Sheep Inn had seen a visit before he’d decided to deposit half a field in her bathtub.

“Ahh, well, now there hangs a tale. Would you believe me if I told you’d I’d actually been doing some work for a change?”

“Not a chance, Sean O’ Neill. More like you got drunk and fell in a ditch.”

“Aww, Fiona.” He shot her another leery grin “I love that flash o’ fire you get when you’re angry. If you’ll be giving me back a little scrub, maybe we can go upstairs and put that passion to good use?”

“I’ve better things to do, Sean O’ Neill.”

“Come on Fiona, you know you want to.”

It was the wink that did it. The knowing wink that told her he not only thought himself a gift from God to womankind, but that he also knew full well she’d spent the past two weeks fretting and waiting and watching at the window for his return.

“I know this, Sean O’ Neill.” Picking up the bucket, she upended it over his head before he could react. With a spluttered curse, he rose from the tub causing a tidal wave of water to spill over the rim, soaking the front of her dress, her boots. Before she could turn and run, he had her fast by the arm.

“I love a woman who plays hard to get,” he said, pulling her close. “Come join me,”

“Don’t you dare, Sean O’ Neill. The water’s filthy and me in my Sunday best.”

“You could take it off?”

“I will not.” He had her flush now, against his hard and very naked body. A feeling she remembered all too well.

“As you wish.” Another tidal wave as he lowered himself, jamming them both in the tub, her kneeling between his knees, held down by the weight of her water-logged dress and the circle of his arms. The scummy brown tide seeped into her bodice, moulding it to her body. He looked, of course. This was Sean O’ Neill, after all.

The sexiest and possibly the most infuriating man in the whole of Fearhn County.

He wasn’t going to win this one.

“Let me go,” she said, with all the dignity she could muster, given that her hair had escaped the pins and was now hanging over her eyes in damp spirals. How dare he look like a sea-god when she probably looked like a drowned rat.

Mercifully, he did. She hauled herself from the tub and twisted her skirts, wringing out the muddy water onto the scullery floor. She might have forgiven him even then, had he not laughed out loud at her predicament.

She gave him a winsome smile. “All right, you win. You know I can’t resist you, Sean O’ Neill. Would you like me to wash your back, now?”

He did, and after a few moments of slow lathering he was almost purring under her hand.

“The water’s getting cold. Would you get out of the tub and I’ll dry you?”

“That’s more like it, woman.” He rose with his usual swagger and stepped from the tub. Diligently, she dried him off. All of him. Paying particular attention to a part of him that had definitely taken on a life of its own.”

Dropping the towel onto a stool, she moved to the door and glanced coyly over her shoulder. “Well, are you coming?”

Picking up her skirts, she ran back up the corridor and stopped at the foot of the stairs. Lord but he was magnificent in all his naked glory, but tonight he was to learn that he wasn’t quite as charming as he thought.

“Would you fetch your boots in from the porch,” she said as he appeared in the hall. “We don’t want the whole neighbourhood knowing you’re here, at this time of day, now do we? I’ll clean the mud off them tomorrow for you. Give them a bit of a polish.”

“You’re an angel, Fiona Heany, so you are. I don’t deserve you, that I don’t.” He leaned in, lips pouted for a kiss, but she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away.

“The boots, Sean. They’re dirty. Do we want the whole neighbourhood saying I let you go about with dirty boots?”

“Very well,” he mumbled, glancing down at himself. The man didn’t have a modest bone in his body. Flinging the door wide, he stepped out onto the porch and bent for his boots.

She took a moment to admire his taut and very naked backside before stepping nimbly to the front door and slamming it shut. Throwing the bolt, she turned and leaned against the door, a hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter.

“Fiona!” His voice, an urgent whisper on the other side of the door.

Checking the bolt was secure, she ignored his urgent pleas, lifted her wet skirts and crossed the hall to climb the stairs. Sooner or later, he’d find the loose catch on the sitting-room window.  And if he didn’t, well there was always the shed.

Perhaps she should slip downstairs and loosen that catch a little more…



From Author H D Thomson

I searched high and low and couldn’t find mud anywhere in my books, but I found dirt! The excerpt below if from The Long Road Home. The pic actually has nothing to do with the scene, but I saw him in my searches on the net and couldn’t resist adding him! lol


Her leg tangled with the leash, and she flew forward, slamming into the dirt. Pain lashed up her spine, tearing another scream from her lips.

She stumbled to her feet, and limped forward. The Explorer came into view, but she didn’t see John.

“John! John! Where are you?”

She slammed into something hard. She grunted and grabbed onto a pair of shoulders. John’s shoulders. Her entire body shook with relief, and she would have slid to the ground—her legs having lost all function—if it wasn’t for his hands holding her up in a steadying grasp.

“Hey, calm down,” John urged.

“There’s something out there.”

“It’s probably an owl or mouse.”

Mashing her teeth together at his obvious skepticism, she grabbed his wrist and urged him to the Explorer. “It’s no mouse!”

Another roar erupted from the trees.

“Move!” John yelled.

She barely had enough time to pick up Toto, before John grabbed her arm and stuffed them in the Explorer. He climbed in after her. The dog scrambled in the back and burst into high-pierced barking.

She twisted around only to find her face squished against John’s upper torso. Suffocating, she pushed at his chest and dragged in a mouthful of air. “My leg. You’re on my leg!” She squirmed under him. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Get off.”

“Then can you kindly get your hand out from between my legs,” he grunted.

“Sorry! But if you don’t get—”

His hand clasped her breast, then fumbled past her shoulder to the backrest. Clarisse’s breath hissed into her lungs. He scrambled off her, hit his head on the ceiling with a loud ‘whack’, and dropped into the driver’s seat.

Ignoring the biting pressure in her knee, Clarisse watched a large shadow break away from the others.



From Author Caris Roane

This week’s theme, muddy, challenged me again, so I had to stretch my thinking to make it work since apparently I don’t get my characters physically dirty enough!  I considered the various ways that my characters might have powers to muddy the mind of someone else and in my current release, EMBRACE THE MAGIC, I chose this scene in which the heroine, Samantha, has had her mind muddied and confused by an ancient fae entity.  The evil fae woman is driving Samantha to bond with the vampire, Ry, a very bad man…

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000030_00040]

From Chapter Eight:

Samantha opened her eyes. The room no longer spun, but she could see strange waves all around the perimeter. Something was wrong.

Really wrong.


She turned slowly, her head muddled and thick. A man stood in front of her now, a vampire, a mastyr vampire.

“Remember me?”

She looked up at him. “Mastyr Ry?” She smelled his blood need and her heart pounded in her chest.

His nostrils flared and his lids lowered to half-mast. “Goddess, your blood smells like heaven.”

She knew she shouldn’t do it, but she felt compelled as she opened her arms and eased her head to the side, exposing her throat. These were not her arms, her throat, her desires. She knew the dark fae force manipulated her, but she couldn’t do anything else.

Ry’s fangs emerged, pulling back from his lips. His jaw trembled, then he struck. She felt blissful as he pulled on her vein, drawing sustenance into his starved body. She was fulfilling her most profound purpose in life. But this wasn’t Ethan.

Not Ethan. The words left her mind but went nowhere.

She didn’t want to feed Ry but she couldn’t help herself.

She had to contact Ethan, had to find him.

Ry opened his personal frequency and began pummeling her chest and abdomen trying to get to her faeness. It would take so little to complete the bonding. She understand that now, that it was just a matter of her will, of acquiescing, of saying ‘yes’, and she’d belong to Ry.

Where was Ethan?

Her mind felt so loose and disjointed. The images of the previous battle at the Guildhall hovered at the edges of her mind, but she forced them away.

She just felt so confused.

Yet she had to do something, she just couldn’t remember what? She loved that she was feeding a starved mastyr. But this was Ry, not Ethan.

Ethan. She sent the call out to him as hard as she could, but the communication failed. She felt that the dark fae force had blocked it.

So good to give her blood. More images, though, of the Guildhall battle.

Once more she forced them away.

She had to focus, but on what?


Yet she couldn’t reach him.


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from EMBRACE THE MAGIC!  To learn more:  CLICK HERE!!!



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