Tuesday, 3 August 2021

Book Tour: Stolen by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Book 1) by Felicity Heaton @FelicityHeaton



Stolen by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Series Book 1)
by Felicity Heaton





This was going to be one shitty walk.




It hadn’t gone well.



As it was, he was itching for a fight.










There was nothing magical about winter.







Overjoyed by capturing or killing a shifter.


Had taken too much from him.








Which was enough to set him on edge.

Females didn’t stay at Cougar Creek in winter.


He huffed.

Cougar Creek.




Looked as if the male was staying this time.







His ears twitched.



What were they up to?













He knew her scent though.



Maybe he had imagined the sweet scent in the woods.

Berries were his vice after all.

He loved them and found them impossible to resist.




Ember. Saint wasn’t familiar with that female.






Because he was fantasising about sweet juicy summer berries again.

Could smell them stronger now.



A female.


Sweet berries and a hint of vanilla.






She was beautiful.


Until there was only her.


She had sensed him.




Saint stared after her.

Driven to follow.

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.com.au
Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Google Play

Book 1: Stolen by her Bear
Book 2: Rescued by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 3: Saved by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 4: Unleashed by her Bear – Pre-order Now
Book 5: Awakened by her Bear – Pre-order Now




Wednesday, 23 June 2021

Book Tour and Giveaway: Thanatos (Guardians of Hades Book 8) by Felicity Heaton

New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton is here today for the book tour of her new paranormal romance release, Thanatos, the latest release in her popular Guardians of Hades Series.

This is book 8 in this series, but don’t worry, you can dive right on in with Thanatos, or start at the very beginning with Ares, which is FREE at all retailers right now. Binge-read to your heart’s content!

If you love passionate paranormal romance featuring hot alpha heroes and strong heroines bringing them to their knees, new twists on old myths, and lush, detailed words, then this series is definitely for you. Plus, each book has a happily forever after and there are no cliff-hangers, because there’s nothing worse than a cliff-hanger!

Thanatos, god of death, has a mission: scour the unknown realms of the Underworld and retrieve the only daughter of his god-king, Hades. Murdered six centuries ago and her soul captured before it could pass on, she now falls under Thanatos’s domain. Armed with only a description of the location of her prison seen in a vision by her oldest brother, Thanatos has spent four years hunting for her, determined to complete his task and save her.

But when he locates Calindria, she’s not the delicate little girl he remembers—she’s a fierce, bewitching and beautiful warrioress who stirs unwanted feelings in his black heart and she’s on a mission of her own.

Calindria, daughter of Hades, has a mission: escape her prison, hunt down the ones who murdered her twin brother, and then make her family pay for abandoning her. But the Fates have other plans, placing a distractingly gorgeous god of death in her path—a warrior who is determined to convince her that what she believed is the truth is in fact a lie.

In a realm that turns memories against them and where anything can be an illusion, can Calindria and Thanatos learn to trust each other enough to work together to escape the hellish domain, or will the darkest moments of their past prove too powerful to overcome?

Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win a signed paperback of your choice from my backlist of available titles plus awesome book swag! This giveaway is international and open to everyone, and ends at midnight on June 27th. Enter now: https://kingsumo.com/g/vvgksb/thanatos-book-tour-grand-giveaway

Thanatos ducked beneath a dip in the roof of the tunnel, bracing his hand against the onyx rock as he worked his way downwards, watching his footing. He grimaced, lips pulling taut as the tops of his black wings knocked against the rough ceiling and caught on the protrusion of rock. He ducked lower, almost on his backside, and hunched forwards, easing his wings past the obstruction.

Maybe continuing along this path had been a mistake.

He probably should have turned back the moment the tunnel had started to narrow, picking another route to explore and chart in his mind.

Behind him, something chittered, as if mocking him.

He huffed and gripped the wall, fingers tight in the holds he found as he carefully navigated the steep slope. He hoped to the gods it opened out again soon and didn’t get any narrower. Fitting his seven-foot-two frame into small spaces was difficult enough at the best of times, but this was beginning to move past difficult into impossible territory.

A little like his mission.

Four years of searching and he had nothing to show for it, and his god-king, Hades, was growing impatient. Thanatos had charted realm after realm at the very edges of the Underworld, places beyond the sight of his god-king, seeking the one where Hades’s only daughter was being held.

With only a description of what Hades’s oldest son had seen in the memories of another to go on.

Thanatos raked his free hand through his damp onyx hair and exhaled hard.

He was beginning to doubt those memories, but every meeting he had with Hades and his sons had him coming away with a renewed sense of determination to complete the mission Hades had entrusted him with and find Calindria.

It wasn’t only the thought of pleasing his god-king that had him scouring uncharted lands day after day without a break though, refusing to admit defeat.

It was the toll he could see those days were taking on his god-queen, Persephone. Now that they knew Calindria’s soul had form, the gentle goddess needed her daughter back, a child she had mourned for almost six centuries.

A girl who had been ruthlessly murdered in front of her twin, Calistos.

His king and queen had believed her soul lost forever when it hadn’t passed through the veil to reach Hades for judgement. Now, they had entrusted him with her rescue, and he would do all in his power to bring her back to them.

Because she fell under his domain.

As god of death, it was his duty to reap the souls of the dying when their allotted time in this world ended, only he had never been summoned to separate Calindria’s soul from her body, as he should have been, and her soul had never passed on to Hades. Thanatos pondered that, for what he was sure was the millionth time, as the path levelled out and the tunnel thankfully widened. If she was dead, lingering in the place between worlds where he ruled, he should be able to feel her as he could others who moved through the veil.

Only he couldn’t.

He had tried. He had tried so many times and in all the ways he could think of to get a fix on her location, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t feel her.

The tunnel opened out into a cavern with a jagged ceiling only thirty feet above him that dipped lower in places, great pillars of rock joining it to the uneven ground. He kept a wary eye on the shadows as things moved in them, chittering to each other, wanting to avoid another encounter with some of the local wildlife. The largest bats in the mortal world had nothing on the leather-winged black beasts that called the stretches of tunnels and the caverns home. These fell creatures resembled gargoyles the mortals had once adorned their buildings with, with snub upturned noses and pointed ears, and claws as long as their fangs, and a dragon-like tail.

The first time Thanatos had encountered them, he had accidentally disturbed a large nest of them, and they had descended on him as one, ripping at his feathers and clawing his bare arms and chest. They had forced him to retreat and return to his castle to heal.

Something he had to do on foot or wing since there was a strange power over this wild land, one that stopped him from teleporting.

That power had strengthened his feeling that he was on the right track at last. It blanketed the entire realm, hindering him by not only stopping him from teleporting in and out but by dampening his senses too. He could feel things if he focused, but it was as if there was some kind of interference.

It made him feel that Calindria was here and the reason he couldn’t feel her was because of that interference. This realm shielded her somehow, making it impossible for him to sense her.

A power that didn’t seem natural to him.

Someone had taken great pains to ensure no one found Calindria. The one who had taken her or one among the enemy he had fought alongside the sons of Hades four years ago? That enemy had contained not only those of the daemon breeds, but demigods, gods and goddesses too.

A rebellion Hades’s sons had crushed, restoring peace in the Underworld.

Thanatos meandered around sharp spikes of black rock that jutted from the floor, his gaze scanning the route ahead of him, looking for an exit. Water dripped somewhere, the sound echoing around the cavern, punctuating his thoughts. Whoever had killed Calindria and had taken her soul had hidden it well, the method they had used to conceal it carrying on after their death.

If they were dead.

When Thanatos had raised that thought with Hades, his god-king had grown dark and had immediately left the palace, teleporting to Tartarus where he was holding Eris, Thanatos’s younger sister.

And the ringleader of the enemy that had risen up against Hades and attempted to bring about not only his downfall but that of the Underworld and mortal realm too.

Disgust rolled through Thanatos, as strongly as it had the night he had realised she had turned against their god-king, together with another two of his sisters and his youngest brother. His mother, Nyx, was still furious about what had happened, wanted blood and regularly visited Eris in Tartarus to sneer at her and threaten her.

So far, neither Nyx nor Hades had managed to convince Eris to tell them something other than the same denial she spewed whenever they tortured her. She just kept swearing she knew nothing about Calindria and what had happened to her.

Thanatos wasn’t buying it.

He spied three exits in total and picked the largest of the tunnels, the one set into the cragged wall of the cavern dangerously close to a pool of water. He lowered his hand to the hilt of his sword where it hung from his waist, attached to his thick leather trousers, and warily stalked towards the tunnel, keeping an eye on the water.

Wishing he had worn more of his obsidian armour than just the heavy vambraces that protected his forearms.

He had forgone the armour that he normally wore on his lower half. The thick plates offered protection but slowed him down and made it more difficult to move through the narrow tunnels or clamber into holes. He had decided to leave them in his castle for this trip when he had discovered the warren of tunnels in the heart of this vast mountain range were narrower than those in the last set of peaks that rose high into the smoky air of this realm.

Something moved in the water and his fingers tensed around the grip of his sword, ready to draw and swing it in the space of a heartbeat if necessary. Great serpents lived in the pools in many of the caverns, waiting for a creature to approach and drink the life-giving water. One had nearly taken his head off. Since then, he had avoided all the pools.

Thanatos eased around this one, facing it at all times, and was quick to duck into the tunnel. It was narrower than it had looked from a distance, but still large enough to accommodate him and his wings. He shook them out and furled them again, tried to ignore the itch to stretch them and fly. The next time he found a cavern that was large enough, and was lacking occupants, he would do a few laps around it to stretch his wings.

Ahead of him, in the gloom, creatures skittered and scurried away from him. He eased his head left and lowered his wings, edging around a dip in the ceiling. He was beginning to miss the world outside this mountain, even though it was as grim out there as it was in here. Perhaps more so.

The valleys of these mountains were great black lands, some riddled with crevasses cut by waterfalls that thundered into them, and others filled with dead-looking trees, and then there was his personal favourite.

A valley that had been infested with spires of jagged black rock with holes in it. The things that lived within the three-, four-, even five-hundred-foot-tall towers had not liked him being in their territory. Like the gargoyles, they had chased him from the valley, the veins of crimson that formed patterns on their black carapaces glowing like lava as they had scuttled after him on four bony legs, snapping at him with their pincers.

Thanatos was beginning to get the impression everything in this realm hated him.

Perhaps if he didn’t find Calindria, he would kill everything in it. Eradicate all life to make it easier for Hades’s legions to tame these wild lands steeped in ancient powers and bring them under his god-king’s control. He drifted in that pleasing imagery for a while, mentally getting revenge on the foul creatures who had tried to maim and murder him on far too many occasions.

Thanatos stilled as awareness rolled down his spine, making his wings quiver. Something was watching him. He’d had the same feeling several times now during his travels and was beginning to get the impression that someone and not something was following him.

The Messenger.

Thanatos had encountered the black-haired male in another realm, one close to this one, and had thought Hades had sent his servant to relay something to him. Only he had startled the male when he had questioned him, asking what he was doing in an uninhabited realm if he wasn’t there to deliver a message from Hades.

The Messenger’s mismatched eyes—one green and one blue—had widened and then narrowed, had shone with fire when he had delivered a message of his own.

He didn’t serve Hades.

When Thanatos had brought up the male in his report to Hades, two of his god-king’s sons, Marek and Esher, had exchanged a look. Hades had noticed it and demanded answers.

Apparently, they believed they had met the same Messenger in the mortal realm.

There, the male had told them he was looking for Calindria.

“If I cross paths with him again, perhaps I will ask him to assist me,” Thanatos grumbled as he eased around another jagged spike of rock that blocked his path. “He can run the tunnels like the hound he is.”

Thanatos had never liked Messengers. The clones were creepy with the way they would silently appear close to him, and they had no boundaries, were always teleporting into his castle without invitation, bypassing all his wards. Hades had given them too many powers when he had created them.

Something which had proven dangerous during the rebellion, when several Messengers had sided with the enemy and revealed something that had unsettled even Hades.

Some of them had developed the ability to feel emotion.

Thanatos had witnessed it for himself in the Messenger he had encountered, the one who was looking for Calindria. The male hid it well, but Thanatos had seen the glimmer of emotions in his eyes when he had questioned him, had noticed it in the slight twist of his lips or twitch of his eyebrows.

Hadn’t been able to miss it when the male had snarled at him that he didn’t serve Hades.

Hades was going to have to deal with his creations. Servants with emotions and so much power were dangerous. At the very least, his god-king needed to cull those who exhibited feelings and ensure future Messengers were subjected to stringent tests and given less power.

Perhaps his god-king could fashion them to be more like Thanatos’s servants—loyal, emotionless, powerless. His staff existed to serve him and carried out their duties without question.

Ahead of him, the tunnel opened up again, rapidly doubling in width. He straightened and pressed his hand into his back, arched it and sighed as something popped. He drew down a deep breath and frowned as he swore he caught the scent of a fire. Not the wretched, almost sulphuric smell of the volcanoes that dotted this realm, but the smell of wood burning.

He quickened his pace, his hand falling to his sword again, his black eyebrows pinching together as he strode into the gloom. It grew brighter as he neared the end of the tunnel and his step faltered.

He recognised this place.

His eyes darted around, taking in the stalactite laden ceiling of the enormous cavern, and his steps slowed further as he approached the edge of the broad ledge that jutted out high above the ground on one side of it.

Thanatos drew to a halt near the edge of it, staring at the rusty oval cages suspended from the jagged cavern roof by thick chains.

This was it.

This was what Keras had seen.

His heart beat harder at the thought he was close now, would be able to fulfil his mission for his god-king and would be well rewarded for it.

Thanatos spread his black feathered wings and kicked off, sweeping down into the cavern. He circled the huge dome-shaped space, weaving around spires of rock. His eyes narrowed on each cage he passed. Some were empty. Others contained remains.

None held Calindria.

Or did they?

He hovered before one cage that contained bones and held his hand out, drew down a deep breath and closed his eyes. Images flickered before him, revealing a female but this one a brunette. Not the one he was looking for.

Calindria had golden hair and blue eyes, had been a bright and bubbly little thing when he had last seen her, hanging on the tails of Calistos. She had always hidden behind her twin or her father whenever Thanatos had visited, shyly peeking out at him, ducking back into cover whenever he had looked her way.

He flew to another cage and repeated the process, hoping the rotting corpse wasn’t her. It wasn’t.

Thanatos looked around the cavern, unable to imagine the delicate female in this place, unable to believe she had somehow survived being held here as her brother had said she had. Unsettled by how Keras swore she had felt pain when someone had attacked her with a spear.

Something about that felt wrong.

The dead felt no pain.

Thanatos checked the remaining cages, and even the bones that littered the floor, but none of them were the bright-eyed daughter of Hades. He landed and furled his wings against his bare back, strode towards the scent of wood fire and investigated the camp. It was well lived in, with ancient animal bones piled in one corner together with old blankets and discarded rotting bedding. Around the fire, the bedding was fresh and almost new.

He found evidence of two or possibly three people. Guards for those in the cages? Their tormenters?

Thanatos walked around the wall of rock that shielded the guards’ quarters from the cages and frowned up at them. Where had the guards gone? The fire was still going, but he sensed no life here.

His gaze fell and he frowned as it landed on a cage on its side. He canted his head as he strode to it, as he stooped and touched a dark patch on the ground. Damp. Someone had been in this cage recently.

He stood swiftly. Had it been Calindria? Perhaps they had moved her. He did another sweep of the cavern, searching for more clues, and backtracked when his gaze caught on something. Frowned. He kicked off, beating his wings, swiftly crossing the span of gritty dirt.

Thanatos landed soundlessly, his frown deepening as the turbulence caused by his wings destroyed what he had come to look at before he could investigate it. The two bodies crumbled to ash, swirled and scattered on the breeze. Whoever they had been, they had both been large males. He eyed the spear that lay on the ground near one of them. Guards.

He crouched and held his hand over the ashes, but saw nothing.


He looked back at the cage that rested on its side and then at the black ashes again. Had someone killed the guards and made off with Calindria? If they had, they couldn’t have gotten far.

Thanatos spread his wings and beat them, did a lap of the cavern and found only three exits. He checked the opening of each of them, using his senses to see if anyone had entered them recently. The realm dulled them too much for him to make anything out.

He huffed and looked at the ground, a thousand thoughts crowding his mind as he tried to figure out what to do. Which tunnel to pick?

Thanatos tilted his head to one side, his eyes narrowing on the ground as he spotted something. He walked to it, eased into a crouch and ghosted his fingers over the scuff mark in the dirt, looked around and stilled. Further inside the tunnel was another, only this one had a distinct shape.

A footprint.

It was small, dainty.



And the only ones he could see. No one had made off with Calindria, if she had been the one in the cage. She had made off with herself. Had something killed the guards when they had been doing something with her, allowing her to escape?

He rose to his feet and strode into the tunnel, moving as quickly as he could, his senses reaching out around him as he desperately sought a sign of life—a sign this was the right way.

The tunnel opened out again ahead of him and his heart drummed harder against his ribs as he spotted more footprints. This had to be the right way. He drew down a deep breath to focus his senses, honing them in the hope he would be able to sense the owner of those footprints.

Froze as he realised he wasn’t alone.

A female dressed in very little stood in the middle of the cavern with her side to him, gulping water from a dark pouch.

She froze too, her dirty shoulders locking up tightly, her fingers clutching the waterskin. She lowered it from her lips and turned slightly, her matted, filthy blonde hair that reached the small of her back swaying as she came to face him.

As her wide, luminous blue eyes landed on him.

“Calindria,” he breathed, sure it was her, only she was not a little girl as some foolish part of him had expected.

She pressed the pouch to the swell of her chest and stared at him like a prey animal facing a predator, her eyes taking on a wild and almost feral edge.

Thanatos slowly lifted his hands, hoping to calm her.

She broke into a dead run.

Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Amazon.com.au
Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | Google Play

Book 1: Ares
Book 2: Valen
Book 3: Esher
Book 4: Marek
Book 5: Calistos
Book 6: Daimon
Book 7: Keras
Book 8: Thanatos
Book 9: Hades – Coming Soon




Thursday, 22 April 2021

Blog Tour & Giveaway: Scorched by Darkness (Eternal Mates Book 18) by Felicity Heaton


New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton is here today for the book tour of her new paranormal romance release, Scorched by Darkness, the latest release in her popular Eternal Mates world.

There are now eighteen books in this series but don’t worry, you can dive right on in with Scorched by Darkness, or start at the very beginning with Kissed by a Dark Prince, which is FREE at all retailers right now. Binge-read to your heart’s content!

If you love big worlds packed with detail and every paranormal species imaginable, together with hot alpha heroes and strong heroines bringing them to their knees, then this series is definitely for you. Plus, each book has a happily forever after and there are no cliffhangers because there’s nothing worse than a cliffhanger!


Scorched by Darkness (Eternal Mates Paranormal Romance Series Book 18)

by Felicity Heaton

Even for one of the top assassins in Hell like him, Hartt’s latest contract would have been difficult enough, but there’s a complication—a beautiful, flame-haired, and dangerously tempting complication. Not only is the bewitching female a distraction he doesn’t need—she’s the competition.

Mackenzie’s life hasn’t been easy. Held captive by blood mages who murdered her family, forced to spend every day guarding her secret, and now she lands the biggest contract ever—one that would set her assassin’s guild up as one of the best in Hell—and it turns out her client hasn’t only hired her. He’s hired the top guild in Hell too. Worse, the male she’s up against is wickedly alluring, a dark elf warrior who sets her blood on fire, and the heat that sparks between them is in danger of burning her resolve to take him down to ashes.

It’s a race against time and each other to fulfil the contract by taking out one of the most dangerous men in Hell, a vampire with a name befitting of his bloody history, but who will be the one to claim victory—one of them or the King of Death?

Find out in Scorched by Darkness, an enemies-to-lovers fated mates paranormal romance that will set your heart on fire!


Enter the grand tour-wide giveaway to win one of a $75, $50 or $25 Amazon Gift Card at the Scorched by Darkness book page. This giveaway is international and open to everyone and ends at midnight on May 2nd. Enter now: http://www.felicityheaton.com/scorched-by-darkness-paranormal-romance-novel.php


The clock in the grey stone tower to his right continued to chime the hour.


The hundreds of fae, witches, demons and other species crammed into the large square of the underground town swayed, hugged and sung together in a discordant melody that grated in Hartt’s ears as he stood unmoving, the only still thing in a churning sea.

But inside him, it was a different matter.

His stomach twisted and his mind spun, thoughts colliding and breaking apart, emotions threatening to unravel the tentative hold he had on the darkness. It lurked, waiting in the deepest recesses of his soul, a creeping and malevolent thing that hunted for a weakness in him, the tiniest fissure in his will that it could slip its claws into and rip wide open.

He lifted his left hand and absently rubbed the spot over his sternum as acid filled the scraped out and raw abyss where his heart should have been.

He had been a fool again.

Hartt tried not to think about it as he stood there in the square, his back to one of the towering three-storey grey stone buildings that enclosed it on all sides. He tried not to think about her.

Or the death wish he had.

He must have one since he had just come close to stepping into Underworld, a nightclub in London, to speak with his ex. If he could call her an ex. Iolanthe had stood him up on their wedding day, had left him waiting at the grand celebration his family had put together.

Looking like a fool.

The rubbing grew harder as the empty pit ached, his heart attempting to resurrect itself. The temptation to call on his armour was strong. It would only take a simple mental command to the black and silver bands that encircled his wrists and the onyx scales would ripple over his body, transforming his fingers into talons that could easily slice through bone and remove the damned broken thing that passed for his heart, freeing him of its constant torment.

He had been free.

For centuries, he hadn’t thought about her. He had moved on with his life, had stepped off the route that had been laid before him by their parents and trod his own path in the world.

And he had been happy.

He had a friend who was like a brother to him, had founded an assassin guild that had a fearsome reputation and was undeniably the best one in Hell, and he had more coin than he could ever need. He wasn’t short on females either. If the mood struck him, he only had to take a walk through the town that had sprung up around his guild and take his pick of the females who lived in it.

He had been happy.

And then Harbin, a snow leopard shifter who was more like a friend than an employee, had done something reckless in the mortal realm.

And his world had collided with Iolanthe’s again.

And all the godsdamned feelings Hartt had thought long dead had come flooding back.

So, like the fool he was, he had gone to see her tonight, well aware that if her jaguar shifter mate so much as smelled him nearby, he was a dead man.

Worse, he had brought his family’s ring with him.

One she should have worn on her finger.

Hartt raised his hand and scrubbed it down his face, somehow held back a groan as he closed his eyes and shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him?

He blamed Fuery. His brother-not-by-blood was settling into his new life with his fated female, Shaia, a happy ending that the elf deserved after everything he had been through. Not only that, but Harbin was happily mated too. Seeing the two of them with their females was screwing with his head, rousing desires he should have forgotten.

He blamed Iolanthe too. The shock of seeing her again after all these centuries must have jolted something loose.

“She means nothing to me,” Hartt muttered as the people around him swayed and came close to jostling him too.

The square was far too packed. It felt as if every person living in the fae town that occupied a cavern beneath a mountain in the highlands of Scotland was out tonight, crammed into the small heart of it to celebrate the dawning of a new year.

Someone tried to grab him, leaning close to him, and he flashed fangs and snarled as he rolled his right shoulder and shirked them. The big shifter of undetermined species, although he smelled like a wet dog, grunted and shrugged, and grabbed one of the witches instead. She squealed in delight as he lifted her and spun, her petite booted feet coming up and almost clocking Hartt in the face.

He huffed and leaned back to avoid being struck, and the darkness writhed in response to the switch in his emotions. If it had been a living being, it would have smirked. Sometimes, it felt as if it was alive and had a will of its own.

Sometimes, he couldn’t control it, failed to contain it.

Bad things happened then.

Hartt sidestepped and peered at the crowd, forcing his mind back on track. The mission. The reason he had come to this fae town near Fort William.

The intel he had gathered pointed towards his mark being here tonight, somewhere in this dense throng of revellers. While he couldn’t imagine his target celebrating the new year, let alone being anywhere near a crowd of this size, following up the lead seemed like a good way of distracting himself.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth again.

Gods, he needed a distraction.

Taking on this contract was keeping him busy, but at a cost. Fuery wasn’t happy about it. His friend had been on his case about rolling solo on a mission since day one, didn’t care that the client had stipulated that he had to work alone on it.

And that it had to be him who took it on.

Fuery preferred him away from the frontlines, as far from danger as he could get, and while Hartt usually indulged him because he didn’t want Fuery to suffer, he couldn’t do it this time. He needed some action. He needed some space, some time away from the guild. He just needed a moment to breathe.

A distraction.

His gaze hopped over the heads of the gathered males and females, cataloguing them all, discerning their species whenever he could from a distance. The demons were easy to pick out from the crowd with their horns that flared from behind the tops of their pointed ears and the fact they stood a head taller than most of the crowd, as he did. The witches were equally as easy to identify for the most part thanks to their gender—mainly female—and the colourful and interesting fashion they wore.

Neither species were of interest to him.

He kept searching, picking out the vampires he could easily spot, studying them to see if they reacted to anyone else nearby, someone unseen by him. They were all too interested in eyeing up potential prey among the gathered, their crimson eyes following females or males that were clearly inebriated. Easy pickings.

His mark was here somewhere.

Hartt moved again, wove through the people and headed towards a set of broad grey stone steps that led up to a raised walkway that ran around three sides of the square. A better vantage point.

He stopped near the top step and his gaze caught on something on the other side of the square.

A distraction.

Her flame-red hair tumbled around slight shoulders in soft waves as she peered at the crowd. The dark makeup that surrounded her eyes and streaked across her temples made her honey-coloured eyes look stunningly bright as they sought something. Burgundy leather hugged long lean legs and a curvy waist, cupped breasts that had many males staring. She paid them no heed as she frowned at the gathered, a mulish or possibly dissatisfied twist to her red lips.

Hartt studied her in silence, still amidst the crowd as they pushed their way down the stairs behind him, as if his boots were rooted to the stone.

She was unmoving too, her amber gaze serenely taking in her surroundings, charting everything.

His black eyebrows pinched hard as she was forced to take a step back and then turned, drifting down into the crowd in the middle of a group of demons. He canted his head, curious now as he tracked her through the crowd, as she emerged from the trio of demons and left them behind. She slipped through a gaggle of witches and twittering succubi and stopped at the far end of the square, closer to the clock tower.

The crowd was thicker there, stealing her from view.

He growled as he lost sight of her as a large group of males pushed their way deeper into the busy square from the avenue that led to the northern section of the town. Shifters of some sort if he had to guess. They jostled and jabbed at each other, grinned and whistled at several females, gaining scowls from some and sultry smiles and interested looks from others.

Hartt focused and teleported, landing on one of the roofs of the tall dark grey stone buildings. The tight feeling in his breast loosened as he spotted the redhead again, and he didn’t try to decipher the reason why he had felt compelled to keep track of her, why he had felt a strange, almost desperate need to see her again.

He didn’t need to.

Every instinct he possessed told him there was something off about her.

Something wrong.

At first, he had thought she was simply looking for someone she knew, or perhaps she had lost her friends in the busy crowd.

Now, as he eased into a crouch at the edge of the pitched slate roof, he knew better.

His lips quirked into a half-smile.

She had been looking at everyone but him.

Diligently keeping those bright honey-coloured eyes away from him as she had scanned the crowd.

Eyes that now leaped to and locked onto the spot where he had been on the walkway.

A little frown creased her brow as she stared at it, and then her gaze was moving, roving over the crowd as that scowl intensified. Seeking him. He moved a foot to his right, pressed his side to the smoking chimney and peered around it, using it as cover as he observed her.

If he had to guess, he would say she was a fellow assassin.

He realised something else as she looked off to her right and her eyes remained fixed there, tracking something off to his left, at the opposite end of the square to the clock tower.

Hartt looked there too and cursed as he spotted what she had.

She was after the same mark as him.

His violet gaze leaped back to her, and something in the region of his stomach sank slowly towards his boots even as fire ignited in his veins. He had the terrible feeling that taking on this contract had been both a good and a terrible idea.

She was a beautiful distraction.

But he was going to have to kill her.

Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King
Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar
Book 5: Craved by an Alpha
Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat
Book 7: Taken by a Dragon
Book 8: Marked by an Assassin
Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior
Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness
Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death
Book 12: Turned by a Tiger
Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger
Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger
Book 15: Unchained by a Forbidden Love
Book 16: Avenged by an Angel
Book 17: Seduced by a Demon King
Book 18: Scorched by Darkness



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

Tuesday, 13 April 2021

Book Review of Dawn of Ra (Blood of Ra Trilogy Prequel) by M Sasinowski

Book Title: Dawn of Ra (Blood of Ra Prequel)
Genre: YA Science Fiction/Thriller
Pages: 396
Author: M. Sasinowski
Date Published: 5 December 2020


The prequel to the best-selling Blood of Ra Trilogy

Millennia before Alyssa, Paul, and Tasha...

The ancient Rathadi and Pureans live side by side, sharing the island entrusted to their care. When the fragile peace between them is shattered, a young boy, exiled to a distant land, rises to become worshipped as the falcon-headed god.

This is his prophecy. This is his story.

This is how it all began.


Dawn of Ra (Blood of Ra Prequel Book One)Dawn of Ra by M. Sasinowski
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Heru-Pa, being a Rathadi, is about to go through an important rite where he and his sentinel become one, and he will be given his true name (Horus). Set is destined to reign over the Purean's. However, when the island of Atlantis is attacked by a foe long thought dead, both of them will have to face challenges that would crush anyone, never mind two twelve-year-olds.

Having read the trilogy, I was excited when I heard this book was available to pre-order. I downloaded it as soon as it became available.

I was quickly swept up into the tale. I loved the way the two boys acted, like brothers. I also liked how they grew as the story progressed. I spent most of my time on a rollercoaster of emotion throughout. I cursed the author in my head for it. However, I also thanked him because he brought the characters to life.

It's a stand-alone read, so even if you read the trilogy first, you will not face confusion. However, it explains the history that joins Alyssa's destiny. My only criticism is that I wish it was a little longer and showed Horus as a young man/adult and up until he came face to face with Alyssa. I know it wasn't possible as it spanned millennia. Nevertheless, I loved the journey from beginning to end.

M. Sasinowski is a fantastic author. As Heir of Ra was his first book, I think this author is one to watch. I love his fast-paced writing style. His characters come to life on the page, and I can picture the scenes in my mind's eye with ease. I also love the story flow, which runs smoothly from scene to scene. I've added him to my favourite author's list.

There are scenes of a sexual nature (not explicitly shown) between adult characters, and there is some violence, so I feel that parental guidance may be required. I highly recommend this book (and series) to teens and adults alike who love YA science fiction, fantasy, action, adventure, thrillers, mysteries, mythology, and romance genres. - Lynn Worton

View all my reviews

About The Author:
Taken from Amazon.

About the Author - written from the point-of-view of his 15-year old daughter (that's me! :)

Some say that M. Sasinowski writes until 4 am... fueled by a single cup of decaf coffee. Others say this Polish-born American hyper-nerd absorbs energy from late-night TV space shows. No matter the truth... he's my dad. He will never be cool.

He loves archaeology, Star Wars/Trek, martial arts (especially women who kick butt), and impromptu father/daughter (that's me! :) science debates or music jam-sessions. He's kind of smart, I suppose (he has a physics PhD and an MD, or whatever) and likes to build computers for fun.

His teenage daughter (that's me! :) is occasionally a handful to deal with and also served as the inspiration for the main character in his debut young adult novel Heir of Ra.

You may recognize him from his glorious hair or his tendency to do the "vacuum cleaner" dance to embarrass his daughter (that's me... :(.

If you ever see this man, approach with care and greet him in a language he understands, like in Klingon or, better yet, in Wookie.


Author Links:

Monday, 30 November 2020

Book Release Blitz: Keras (Guardians of Hades series Book 7) by Felicity Heaton @FelicityHeaton

New York Times best-selling paranormal romance author Felicity Heaton has just released KERAS, the latest paranormal romance novel in her epic Guardians of Hades series


by Felicity Heaton

Keras is darkness. It sustains him. It strengthens him. It offers relief from the pain born of his feelings for a goddess of Olympus, a bewitching and beautiful female placed beyond his reach—one who stole his heart and broke it. Centuries of enduring that pain have left him tired, and the temptation to surrender control to that side of himself grows each day. 

Even when he knows that darkness will destroy him. 

Enyo has regrets. Hundreds of them. But the one that has plagued her for centuries, is the moment that shattered her friendship with the firstborn of Hades and her own heart with it—a moment that changed her and set her on a new path. With the battle between the sons of Hades and the daemons turning more dangerous for the man she loves, she can no longer stand on the sidelines. 

It’s time for this goddess of war to risk everything to fight for what she wants. 

As the battle to save the Underworld and the mortal realm rages to dangerous new heights, will Keras be consumed by the darkness or will Enyo be the light that saves him? 


Enyo smoothed her black breastplate, fingers rubbing over the point where it met her waist, flowing down to the strips of onyx leather that encircled her hips. She repeated the process over and over again as she peered at herself in the mirror. The bright sunlight that streamed in through the windows on the left and right of her bedroom reflected off the silver metalwork on her armour. 

Her senses stretched around her, sharpening to keep track of her brother. He remained at a distance, which was helping to keep her nerves in check, but did nothing to help her vanquish them completely. 

The thought of what she was about to do kept them at a constant simmer inside her, had her smoothing her armour again. She twisted away from the mirror, pacing across the marble floor, her boots loud in the heavy silence that shrouded her. She struggled with her fear, battled it violently, refusing to let it get the better of her. She was a goddess of war, born for battle, shouldn’t be afraid of what she was about to do. 

She kept telling herself that again and again, but it wouldn’t sink in. 

Enyo paced back across her bedroom, each swift stride carrying her rapidly from one wall of the pale room to the other. She stilled when she sensed someone outside in the corridor, her focus narrowing on them as she waited. They moved on and she breathed a little easier when she realised it was only one of her brother’s aides. 

This was foolish of her. If her brother discovered what she was about to do, or found out after she had gone through with it, he would be furious with her. She had vowed not to interfere with the war erupting in the Underworld, but she couldn’t stand by any longer, allowing the sons of Hades to fight alone. 

She needed to be there, needed to help them. 

Needed to help him. 

Enyo strode back to the mirror, untied her hair and raked her fingers through it, smoothing the long black strands. Was it better down? She canted her head left and right, unable to decide. It was better down. No. It was better up. It looked more professional, would give a better impression, and make it clear she was only there to offer help. 

Even when she wasn’t. 

She pulled her hair back and twisted it into a bun, fastening it with silver clasps. Much better. 

Her stomach flipped, and not for the first time. It had been constantly turning since she had made her decision. She would leave Olympus. She would go against her brother’s wishes. She had to. 

So why was she still here? 

Why couldn’t she find the courage to face him? 

Enyo blew out her breath, seeking the resolve she had felt when she had spoken with Marek. 

She needed to do this. She needed to see Keras again. 

She needed to face him. 

She was a goddess of war, not a weak little maiden. 

But the thought of facing Keras was more terrifying than the thought of entering a battle where it was only her against ten thousand powerful enemies. 

She pivoted away from the mirror, crossed the room to her wardrobes and rifled through her dresses. She stopped herself. Looked down at her armour. She looked fine in it. She was just delaying things now. 

Enyo drew down another deep breath and summoned the power to teleport before her nerve failed her again. 

Light whirled around her, and when it dissipated, she was standing on the zinc roof of a Parisian townhouse. 

She stared across the road at the building opposite her, all of her focus on it, her nerves rising faster now. 

Keras was in there. 

She could feel his power, and gods, it was a sweet comfort and a torment at the same time. How long had it been since she had felt this? How long had it been since she had seen him? 

She slowly eased into a crouch, planting one hand between her spread knees for balance. The night air was cool around her, heavy with the scent of rain. In the distance, thunder rumbled. 

Enyo lingered, eyes fixed on the warmly lit windows of the pale townhouse opposite her, heart thudding against her chest. 

That heart shot into her throat when a black shadow moved across one of the windows to the right of the building, drawing her gaze there. 


She swallowed to wet her dry mouth as she watched him move around the room. A trickle of excitement ran through her blood, an urge to move closer so she could see him more clearly filling her. She wanted a better look at him, not these stolen moments where she couldn’t see all of him. She wanted to see if he was as she remembered him. 

But still, she hesitated. 

Her mind filled with when they were last together, and she cursed her own weakness. 

Keras wouldn’t want to see her, and she could understand that. She despised how she had acted then, how weak she had been, allowing her brother to manipulate her and use that weakness against her. 

He had taken her fear, all of her doubts, and moulded them into a weapon. 

And she had been blind to it. 

She had believed him when he had told her that Hades would never approve of the match, that he would expect more for his firstborn son than her. 

Hearing that had stung her, not only because she had believed she could be with Keras but because it made her realise that her brother thought she wasn’t worthy of someone like him. It had shown her how little he thought of her. 

Looking back now, she could see why he had done it. 

Marrying Keras would not only have reflected badly on her brother Ares because he had promised her to another, but she would have been elevated in society and may have even surpassed him in standing and power. Her eyes were open now. She had learned over the last two centuries that her brother was an egotistical bastard, lived to constantly hold her back so she couldn’t surpass him. 

He had trampled her feelings to keep her in her place. 

She should have known that the moment he had confronted her two centuries ago, should have seen the reason why he had done it, why he had chosen to confront her the second he had noticed she was spending a lot of time with Keras and the two of them had been growing close. 

Gods, she had been so defensive in response and had denied feeling something for Keras, and that was something she had come to regret. Her weakness had plagued her these last two hundred years. 

She should have stood up to her brother. 

She shouldn’t have let him walk all over her like that. 

It had taken her far too many centuries to reach this breaking point, but she was going to step over that line her brother Ares had drawn, was going to defy him and do what her heart desired for once. 

That heart ached as Keras moved to the next room, briefly disappearing before he appeared beyond an elegant couch. He kept walking, concealed by another wall for a hard beat of her heart before he emerged. He opened cupboards and withdrew some things, set them down before him and stood with his back to the window—to her—obscuring her view of the items. 

What was he doing? 

Preparing a meal? 

A smile wound its way onto her lips as she recalled a moment with him, one shortly after he had moved into his own home on the grounds of the main palace in the Underworld. 

He had confessed he found the thought of learning to cook appealing. 

She had teased him often about that in the years that had followed, and always he had grumbled about how his parents insisted that the household staff took care of that sort of thing for him. 

His parents were as old-world as her brother, believed that cooking and cleaning were the domain of servants, not the gods who ruled the lands of the Underworld and Olympus. 

Enyo had tried to cook once, had been wandering the shores of Olympus near to the port and had found herself on rocks that jutted out into the crystal-clear water. Fish had been swimming around below her, and she had watched them for a while before realising that she wasn’t alone. 

Two men had been fishing further along the shore, and she had approached them, had been curious about what they were doing. They had kindly answered her questions and made an offering of fish to her. 

She had attempted to cook it on their open fire, much to their amusement. 

Apparently, it was better to remove the guts first. 

A lesson that she still remembered now, together with how she had made the two men laugh by mentioning how removing guts was a speciality of hers. 

Enyo let those memories fade away and focused back on the present, on the dark god in the building opposite her as he stood with his back to her, still in the same place she had left him when her mind had wandered. 

She was putting things off. She knew it deep in her heart. The memories she conjured were a distraction, a way of lingering where she was, avoiding facing him. 

She pulled down an unsteady breath and blew it out, steeling herself. 

“Be brave,” she murmured softly and rose to her feet. 

She clenched her fists at her sides, and then flexed her fingers, called to mind all the times she had gone to battle. Countless wars. She had fought in thousands of them with her brother and sometimes alone. This was no different to them, and no more frightening. 

It was though. 

It was infinitely more terrifying. 

She hadn’t seen Keras since he had been banished to this world. 

Since she had told him that she was betrothed to another. 

She stared at Keras’s back, aching with the need to go to him, to look into his eyes and read his feelings in them as she used to. 

Had he ever had feelings for her beyond friendship? 

He had closely guarded his heart when she had known him, had never given her a clear indication that he felt the same way as she did. Maybe if he had, she would have found the courage to defy her brother two hundred years ago. 

She pushed those thoughts aside, aware that they weren’t helping her and that there was no point in thinking about how things might have been. She couldn’t change the past. 

She could only shape the future. 

Starting right here, right now. 

By speaking with him again. 

Would he remember her? 

Marek said that he did, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to place what little faith she had in the words he had offered her. She feared that Marek was wrong and that if Keras had ever felt something for her, those feelings either no longer existed or no longer matched hers. 

“Focus on why you are here,” she muttered, using it to bolster her courage. “You came to give him information.” 

A sound plan. 

One she had put into motion upon hearing from her brother that Nemesis had betrayed Hades. 

Enyo had done a little digging, as Marek called it, and had heard many rumours about Nemesis. 

She sucked down another breath and held it as she teleported, appearing in a swirl of white-blue smoke in the kitchen of Keras’s home. 

Only a few feet behind him. 

Her heart thundered, blood rushing like a torrent through her veins as nerves instantly crashed over her, had her hands shaking so badly she had to ball them into fists at her sides. 

To distract herself from her fear, she took in the room, not missing how different it was to Marek’s Spanish villa. 

It suited Keras. 

There was an understated elegance about the room, a sense of luxury in every small detail. Clean white walls. Crisp, polished wood. Delicate fabrics on the chairs seated around the table to her right. A chandelier that twinkled at her through the doorway beyond it, the crystals and gold reflecting warm light. 

She could only imagine the money Keras had poured into his home. 

It was opulent. 

Befitting of the firstborn of Hades. 

It was also very neat. Everything had a place and was in it, and not a speck of dust marred the furniture. She had never noticed how neat Keras was. 

Her gaze strayed back to him, her heartbeat going off the scale again as she mustered her courage, as curiosity tugged a question to her lips. 

Why hadn’t he sensed her yet? 

Maybe he had. Maybe he was aware of her and too angry with her to face her. She studied him and frowned when she sensed no anger in him. She would have pondered whether he was struggling with other emotions. 

Only she couldn’t sense anything coming from him. 

Which was odd. 

She had been attuned to him once, able to detect the slightest shift in his feelings. Perhaps in their years apart, that skill had grown rusty, or a distance had grown between them, stealing it from her. 

Enyo watched him for a few seconds more, giving herself time to grow accustomed to the fact it was Keras before her. 

His rich masculine scent was the same, teased her senses with earth and spice, had her recalling the time she had fallen asleep resting against his shoulder in the secluded arbour in her brother’s garden. 

It warmed her. 

Soothed her. 

Gave her the courage she had been lacking as he opened the cupboard set into the kitchen island in front of him and bent over. 

“It has been two centuries since I last laid eyes upon that fine backside, but I do believe I would recognise it anywhere.” Enyo cringed as she finished saying that, sure she had made a terrible mistake and he wouldn’t remember that day several hundred years ago, when they had been hunting in the mortal world, and his horse had bolted. 

She had found him thrown face-first into a bush, his backside sticking out of it, and had remarked about recognising his fine backside. 

Tense seconds trickled past. 

Keras straightened and turned. “Enyo!” 

When he smiled at her, his emerald eyes lighting up with it, all of her nerves rushed out of her, replaced with warmth that heated her right down to her marrow. 

To her soul. 

Gods, he was as gorgeous as she remembered, and something hit her hard. 

She had missed him so badly. 

Surprise swept through her when he stepped into her and wrapped his arms around her, swiftly giving way to a lightness that chased every shadow from her heart, every fear from her mind as he held her. 

She hugged him back, closed her eyes and told herself to keep it together and not be weak. She leaned into his embrace, fighting tears that stung her eyes. A whirlwind of emotions swept through her, tangled ribbons of them that pulled her along with them, had her spinning as she held him. 

She kissed his cheek, secretly breathed him in. 

He still smelled the same. Still felt the same. If not better. It had been centuries, but she had never forgotten how good it felt to be in his arms. 

She did her best not to cling to him, not to let him see how deeply his friendly greeting was affecting her as a single thought spun through her mind. 

It was Keras—his cheek beneath her lips, his strong arms around her. 

She pulled herself together and withdrew her lips, before she ended up making a fool of herself. If she hadn’t managed that already. 

Keras drew back and smiled at her. “Anyone would think you had missed me.” 

She laughed, but couldn’t deny it. “There isn’t a man in all the Underworld who can hug like you do.” 

His arms dropped away from her as he stepped back, the embrace over too soon, and she schooled her features to hide her disappointment. 

Her nerves began to rise again as silence stretched between them once more, as he stared at her, and she swore something lit his green eyes, something cold and dark. 

“I have been scouting the Underworld,” she blurted, and cursed herself. 

She crushed her nerves. 

They rose back up again, persistent and more than a little annoying. 

She needed to appear strong, as confident as she used to be. She needed Keras to believe she had only come to relay information to him, at least until she felt sure of a few things. 

Like whether or not he hated her now. 

“People have been seen entering Nemesis’s realm over the last few decades. Not the usual gods or goddesses who are summoned there either. I heard several reports that people of an unknown breed had visited her.” 

Keras leaned his backside against the black counter of the island and folded his arms across his chest. Her gaze crept down to it, to the onyx material that hugged his lean muscled figure. The modern dress of the mortal world suited him, accentuated his fine figure, revealing his long legs and how his wide shoulders tapered into a trim waist. 

“What breeds?” His deep voice rolled over her, warming her and making it hard to think. 

“I am not sure.” That was the truth and not just because she felt a little addled being in his presence again, was still a little off-balance from the hug he had given her. “There were reports of both males and females, but none of them gods or goddesses. Not even demigods of note, but I cannot be certain there are not some involved. I can question the people who spoke of them and see if they know. Perhaps even visit the communities and ask questions there.” 

“If more Hellspawn are involved, Father would want to know.” 

Hellspawn. A term he and his brothers often used for the breeds Hades had allowed to remain in the Underworld after the last rebellion. The breeds that had been banished had been renamed daemons, a word that sounded more like a vile curse whenever Hades or Keras had spoken it in front of her. 

Keras dipped his head, and a damp ribbon of black hair slipped onto his brow, curled there and caressed his pale skin. 

He had bathed recently. Just the thought of him doing such a thing had heat licking through her veins. She fought it and subdued it, aware that Keras’s senses were strong and not wanting him to detect the desire that still burned inside her despite their centuries apart. 

He swept the rogue strand back and ran his long fingers through his hair. “Thank you for your information.” 

Enyo frowned at that, his cold response causing her nerves to gain ground. Was he angry with her because she had never come to see him? Marek had told her more than once that she caused him trouble when she came to see him rather than Keras, that Keras was always furious with him. 

Was he furious with her too? 

He leaned to his right and went to turn. 

Her gaze snagged on the bottle on the black counter and the empty glass beside it. “What is that?” 

She jerked her chin towards it. 

Keras didn’t even glance at it. “An experiment.” 

She read the red and white label. Vodka. She knew what that was. 

“Alcohol?” Her gaze leaped back to collide with his as shock rippled through her. “I thought that—” 

Keras cut her off. “Valen tried it and went off the deep end.” 

“Off the deep end?” She couldn’t hide the confusion that swept over her, knew he had heard it when a semblance of a smile touched his lips. 

“A mortal saying. It means to lose control. To be wild.” 

Enyo filed it away as she looked from the bottle to him, concern replacing her confusion. Valen had lost control, and Keras had decided to imbibe the same mortal-made brew that had made him wild. 

Did he want to go off the deep end too? 

“And you?” She frowned at him. “What did you feel?” 

Her eyes strayed to the bottle again. 

“Nothing.” Keras shifted a step to his left, into the path of her gaze. 

“Why?” She lifted her eyes back to his, unsure whether she was asking him why it hadn’t worked or why he had done something as reckless as drinking mortal alcohol when he knew how badly it affected him and his brothers. 

He hiked his shoulders. “I am still trying to figure that one out.” 

Enyo moved around him, deeper into the kitchen, curiosity and concern pulling her forwards, flooding her with a need to see the bottle. “How much did you drink?” 

He took hold of it before she could get a look at it by moving around him and held it up for her to see. 

A third of it was missing. 

Far more than she had expected. 

She hoped to the gods that he had at least started with a sip to gauge his reaction to it rather than diving straight in at a full glass. 

She stared at the bottle, unable to shake the feeling something was wrong. Very wrong. A third of a bottle of alcohol was a lot for him to drink. Was this more than an experiment? 

Had he hoped to awaken the same destructive power that Valen had by drinking alcohol? 

Her gaze drifted back to meet his. 

Why would he want to unleash that sort of power on this world? 

His eyes revealed nothing, not a single trace of what he was feeling. His heart was closed to her, and it chilled her, had the warmth she had felt from being in his presence and in his arms turning to ice in her veins. 

She reminded herself that she deserved his anger and this cold shoulder. She had come here to make amends, to slowly piece their friendship back together and perhaps even build on it in time. Olympus hadn’t been built in a day, and she was going to have to pick up the rubble of their past before she could begin constructing the future she wanted with him. 

Or at least a path that might bring her there if he felt something for her. 

Right now, she wasn’t sure that he did. 

In fact, she felt certain he didn’t and that he never had. 

She tried to focus on the present, refusing to let the past jade her or read into things too much. She had leaped the first hurdle. She just had to keep on her feet now and keep running forwards. No looking back. 

“Perhaps your inhibitors are too strong?” she said. 

He tensed, and his eyes darkened briefly, a shadow passing across them that lifted when he glanced down at his wrists, at the twin bands that encircled them, dampening his powers so he could be in this world without destroying it with the strength of them. 

She’d had thousands of years in this world to learn to control her power, and he had been thrust into it without any training, expected to know how to hold back his strength. 

“A reaction?” Enyo watched him closely, canting her head to her right as she tried to decipher whether the alcohol he had consumed was affecting him. 

He barely shook his head and didn’t look at her. 

She closed the distance between them again and took hold of his hands. An electric thrill bolted up both of her arms, had a shiver tripping down her spine as she felt the coolness of his skin against hers. He had always run a few degrees colder than her, something she blamed on his father’s genes. 

Hades could be as cold as they came. 

Enyo used her thumbs to brush the cuffs of his black dress shirt back and stroked them over the twin braided onyx bands that encircled his wrists, sitting flush against his skin. The power locked within them seeped into her. 

The man she had known in the Underworld. 

Never as strong as she was, but still incredibly powerful. 

She watched her thumbs caressing his wrists, fought another bout of nerves and ridiculous tears that wanted to fill her eyes as she felt a shadow of the connection that had once existed between them. 

Keras’s hands. 

Strong. Capable. Skilled in battle. 

Wrestling her emotions back under control, she lifted her gaze to his face, burning with a need to take it in again. 

His green eyes lingered on her hands where she touched him, something she couldn’t decipher slowly filling them. 

“I really did miss you,” she whispered, and cursed when the tears she thought she had wrangled under control began to fill her eyes. She blinked them away before he could see them. “I haven’t had a good fight in centuries.” 

He smiled, but it lacked the emotion it would have held once. 

He slipped his hands free of hers and turned his back to her, grabbed the glass and carried it to the sink to her left. 

Enyo stared at the bottle on the black counter. 

It worried her to see him doing something so irresponsible. 

It wasn’t like him. 

Sure, she had been hitting the ambrosia again recently, since things had started getting more intense in the mortal world. She had needed the escape it offered as her worry for Keras’s safety had grown. 

Was Keras seeking such an escape too? 

Keras casually turned back to face her, the air between them growing awkward again, something she felt sure she was the only one feeling. He stared at her in silence, and again she was hit by the fact that there wasn’t a single trace of emotion in his emerald eyes, none of the anger she deserved for avoiding him for two centuries and for the manner of their parting. 

He was strangely calm. 

There wasn’t even a hint of hurt in him. 

It made her feel as if she was looking at a different man. 

In the centuries she had known him, Keras had always shared his father’s personality, often calm on the surface but seething with powerful emotions beneath, a churning and dangerous mass of them that were liable to erupt to the surface at any moment. He had always been unpredictable. She had never known when his temper would snap, but she had always known when he was angry. His tone had never revealed it, but his eyes had. 

Now those eyes were empty as they gazed at her. 

She thought about the things Marek had said to her and the messages Valen had sent. 

And felt they were both right. 

Something was wrong with Keras. 

Very wrong. 


Book 8: Thanatos – Coming in 2021 



