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Saturday, September 29, 2012

Interview and Excerpt: Her Demonic Angel by Felicity Heaton

Her Demonic Angel

Felicity Heaton

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

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

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

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

Author’s Website:

Her Demonic Angel, the fifth book in Felicity Heaton’s Her Angel romance series, is now available, and to celebrate the release she’s giving away the first book in the series, Her Dark Angel, for FREE at selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books and Apple iBookstore sites.

You can find all the links for the FREE book, including a sample, at the following page:

You can also download a fantastic 8 chapter sample of Her Demonic Angel for your e-reader at the website:


Fictional Candy: Hi Felicity!  Welcome to the “hot seat”!
 Felicity Heaton: Thanks for having me here! It’s a very hot seat indeed. I can’t wait to see what questions you have in store for me.

FC: Today you are here because we are celebrating Her Demonic Angel.  For readers who might be new to you, can you tell us a bit about this book?
 FH: Her Demonic Angel is the fifth book in my Her Angel series. This time, our hero is Veiron, an angel who not only fell from Heaven but pledged himself to the Devil. Veiron is a Hell’s angel and he’s out for vengeance, determined to put an end to the eternal game Heaven and Hell are playing, and in which he is the Devil’s pawn. He’s a warrior with a very icy exterior but a warm heart that he does his best to hide from others and protect. Veiron will let nothing stand between him and making the Devil pay, until Amelia, the heroine of Her Guardian Angel, asks him to head into Hell to save her sister from his master. Veiron isn’t prepared for the way Erin makes him feel or how quickly she melts the ice around his heart and Erin isn’t prepared for the six-feet-plus of smexy that just walked into her life. As they embark on a journey that will not only take them through Hell, but see them end up on the run from the armies of both Heaven and Hell, they fight for their lives and their future together, and discover Erin’s extraordinary destiny.

FC:You’ve written many books all the way from sci-fi to vampires to werewolves and shapeshifters – all with hotness all over the place.  I know it is probably difficult, but what is your favorite book that you’ve written?
FH:I’ve written a few that have really resonated with me and left me astounded that I wrote that! Her Demonic Angel is actually one of those books, together with Her Guardian Angel. Outside of the Her Angel series, it has to be Love Immortal and Heart of Darkness. They’re both vampire romances and two of my favourite heroes. I think I fall hardest for my books when they feature either huge twists or tortured heroes.

FC:And how does a typical day of writing go for you?
 FH:I love to write as much as I can, or spend as much time as possible editing if that’s what my current project is. I’ll tend to get down to work at 9am by checking emails, sales figures, and doing the rounds on my social networks, as well as checking comments on my blog. Once I’ve done that, I’ll get writing. Sometimes, I’m fortunate not to have too much admin or marketing work to do, so I can spend more of the day writing or editing. I’ll work on my current project between around 10am until 3 or 4pm. I fill the rest of the day with my admin or marketing work. I normally don’t stop work until 7pm. It’s 6:52pm as I write this. Sometimes, I’ll be working from 7am until 9pm. It just depends on my workload really. I do try to squeeze in as much writing or editing as possible, but sometimes I feel weighed down in marketing/promoting or admin work, such as website improvements, but I know that it’s necessary work and I can’t write all the time as I want to.

FC:Friends and family… do they influence your stories, or is it a top secret thing until its complete?
FH: I don’t tend to discuss my books too much with any of my family. Sometimes I’ll bend my husband’s ear about it but then he gets a glazed look in his eyes and I stop. I do talk to my husband about business stuff and any concerns I have about my career or a project I’m working on. I have a couple of writer friends who I talk to sometimes about ideas for series or books, and discuss characters and plots with them. It’s good to have someone to talk to about my books as it can really help me delve further into an idea or come up with a better story. I do have stories that I don’t talk about outside a small trusted circle and that’s generally anything I haven’t started to write yet, and therefore haven’t mentioned online anywhere like my blog or Facebook or Twitter. I prefer to keep stories secret until they’re out there in the world on my blog and the idea / characters are associated with me.

FC:Have you ever made a character after someone you know in person?
FH:I think I draw on aspects of everyone I know when I create characters. I draw inspiration from everything around me and everything I watch, read, hear or see. I imagine it’s something that all writers do. I always tease my husband by saying that Valentine from the Prophecy Trilogy is my all-time favourite hero because he has the most of my husband in him. Not the vampire, cold-hearted killer side of Valentine, but the emotional side of him.

FC:So Felicity, you write some super steamy sexual stuff.  Does that come easy, or is it a struggle to write such yummy scenes?
FH:I find writing love scenes tough in general. I like to write them, and always enjoy cranking up the heat in my stories, but I often find I have to really think hard about them. It’s probably because I tend to write a lot of emotional content into the love scenes, focusing on the feelings and connection more than the physical acts. At the moment, I always seem to be hitting having to write a love scene first thing in the morning, and that is never easy. I have to warm up by reading over earlier scenes.

FC:I actually find writing action scenes, like really intense fight scenes, easier than writing love scenes!
FH:What authors out there (or at the beginning of your writing career) would you call an influence or even an inspiration?

I’ve developed a love for paranormal romance. That may sound strange considering it’s the genre I write most, but I was always fascinated by everything paranormal when I was a kid. Dracula, Frankenstein’s monster, werewolves, witches, and everything in between caught my imagination, together with worlds where animals could speak and had adventures, and stories laced with dragons. I had actually never read a paranormal romance before I wrote my first one. I now read them as often as I can and I particularly love Lara Adrian, Larissa Ione, Gena Showalter, and Sherrilyn Kenyon, to name a few. I tried to read as much as possible now to keep my voice fresh and take a break from writing.

FC:Surprise!  Vampires and shapeshifters are actually real.  Which one do you want to bite you?
FH:Vampire! I’m a sucker for the fanged boys.

FC: Her Demonic Angel is part of the Her Angel series, do you have a favorite angel from this series?  And why?
FH: I’m sure there’s a debate raging amongst my readers about who is their favourite now too. Veiron, the hero of Her Demonic Angel, is my number 1 in the series now, with the incredible Apollyon from Her Dark Angel in number 2 and then Marcus from Her Guardian Angel in at 3. I’ve had a few emails and comments from readers telling me they’re torn between Veiron and Apollyon now.

The thing I love about Veiron is that he’s gruff, and distant, and growly, and he’ll go demonic at the drop of a hat and is out for the Devil’s blood, but underneath that rough exterior beats a heart of gold and he’s warm, loving and feels emotions very intensely, and he has fears that a woman will never really love him for who he is and what he is. He’s powerful, yet vulnerable too. It’s an enchanting combination.

FC: This cover for Her Demonic Angel is to die for!  I just love it!  Was this an easy cover to do? Did you do it yourself, or do you have it designed (and then how much input do you get)?

FH: I believe it’s my best cover yet. I do all my own covers and I had this vision for Her Demonic Angel and it turned out really close to what was in my head. I will have trouble when it comes time to do the next Her Angel series cover as I always feel I have to outdo the previous cover. It was really easy to put together once I found all the right pictures. I’m becoming a pro at sticking wings on sexy men.

FC: What other projects do you have coming up for us to look forward to?
FH: I’m working on Bewitch, the fifth book in the Vampire Erotic Theatre series, at the moment. Once I’m done with the first draft of this book, I’ll be planning the sixth book, Unleash. Unleash is the one many readers have been waiting for as it will be Snow’s book. I’ll also start planning the next Her Angel book soon, and the next Vampires Realm book too. On top of that, I’m working on a new idea for a proposal with my agent and we’ll hopefully be able to approach publishers with it next year.

FC: Halloween is coming up and you need a date for a fabulous party.  Any book, any author – who do you choose, and why?
FH: Oh my! My own men aside, as it would be cheeky to choose from them (if I did, then I would be torn between five men)… I’m tempted to say Andreas Reichen from Lara Adrian’s Midnight Breed series, or possibly Tegan or Dante… but then there’s Aeron (in his wrath days) or Strider or Reyes from Gena Showalter’s Lords of the Underworld too. So many yummy men!

I think I’ll have to go with my original answer. Andreas Reichen.

FC: Zombies seem to be the latest craze, there are even zombie romance books out there.  Do you have any plans on entering the zombie movement and bringing them into your repertoire?
FH: I’ve only written zombies as minions of the enemy. They were in my Prophecy Trilogy, which came out back in 2007. They weren’t very romantic. I can’t imagine zombies as romantic. They’re generally soulless, emotionless, and mindless dead flesh walking. Not very appealing to me!

FC: If you weren’t this fabulous author that you are now, is there another job you would like to be fabulous at?
FH: I would go back to being fabulous at being a web developer and designer. I loved that job as much as I love being a writer.

FC: And lastly, where can we stalk you online?

FH: I’m stalkable at :

I always love to chat with readers, so feel free to look me up and connection. You’ll find I leave the biting to my heroes.

FC: Thank you so much for joining me today, Felicity!  It’s been a blast!

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

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

She chose the right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was just embarrassing now.

It was bad enough having her rescuer belittle her.

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

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

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

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

Erin wanted to be sick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Erin took a step backwards.

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

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

He frowned at her feet. Erin gasped as his large hands settled on her waist and he lifted her onto a relatively smoother rock on the side of the path.

“I didn’t anticipate this.” He rubbed his stubbly jaw and crouched before her. His hands were gentle as he lifted one of her feet and inspected the sole, his thumbs pressing in and sending a warm jolt up to the apex of her thighs.

She placed one hand on top of his head to steady herself and tried to resist the sudden desire to comb her fingers through the long crimson lengths of his hair.

She had dated a few men with long hair in the past but none of them had dyed it the colour this man had chosen. It was like blood.

“I like your do,” she said with a smile. “It’s pretty cool.”

He frowned up at her. “Do?”

“Your hair.”

His frown intensified. “We are trapped in Hell and you are discussing my hair?”

“I have to do something to take my mind off the fact that I’m trapped in Hell. What dye do you use?”

The man straightened and even when she was standing on a rock, she was still shorter than he was. “It is not dyed.”

“That’s natural?”

“If you would like, I can prove it to you.” His smile was nothing short of salacious and he reached for his belt. “The carpet matches the curtains.”

Erin blushed and grabbed his hands to stop him from going ahead and flashing her. He looked as though he really would go through with it and while the thought of seeing every inch of this man nude was appealing, it couldn’t stand up to her greater desire to escape.

The man shrugged and then did something that really challenged her ability to think straight and focus on escaping.

He removed the leather contraption that held his sword to his back, reached over his head and tugged his black t-shirt off, revealing a body so perfect that it would make angels weep. Every inch of lightly bronzed skin stretched taut over granite hard muscles. They shifted in a sensual symphony as he easily tore his t-shirt into two pieces. Her gaze ambled over him, ignoring her commands to focus on anything other than his godly form, then he upped the stakes and it was game over.

He crouched again and bent over her feet, giving her a glorious view of his strong back and the detailed red and black tribal tattoos that swept up his thick arms and down his shoulder blades. They curled there, skirting identical ridges of scar tissue.

Erin leaned forwards as he finished wrapping one of her feet in half of his ruined t-shirt and started on her other. She swept her fingers along the wide dark scar that slashed up his left shoulder in line with his spine.

The man was gone in a flash, standing several feet away from her and breathing hard.

“What the fuck?” he snarled and Erin flinched, her hand still poised where his back had been. “Don’t touch me. Understand?”

“I’m sorry... I just saw the scars and wondered what had happened to you.” She hated that she couldn’t get her voice above a whisper and that she couldn’t look at him. Shame burned her cheeks. So much for her insane thoughts about paying back her glowering saviour with some naughty time when they made it out of Hell.

Erin stared at her feet. He had done a nice job of covering them with his t-shirt. She supposed she should thank him for coming to save her and for not doing the whole thing with her slung over his shoulder, leaving her feeling weak and pathetic. Maybe she should just ask him to point her in the right direction and she would find the way out on her own. Her gaze shifted to his sword where it lay on the ground. On second thought, he was armed and if she ran across some of those demons, he might be able to fend them off or even kill them.

“Thank you for coming for me. I owe you my life,” she said and finally managed to find the courage to look him in the eye again.

He casually shrugged his wide bare shoulders. “You own me nothing. I’m only here because Amelia would have come if I hadn’t, and if she dies then that’s my life over.”

“Oh.” Erin’s gaze ate basalt again and her cheeks scalded, her burning heart heating them. He was with Amelia. That made sense in a strange way, although it only left her with more questions about why Amelia knew about Hell, what the Devil wanted with her and how she had met this man.

A man who had taken her place, risking his life to save Erin so she didn’t have to.

Erin stepped down from the rock, feeling as though someone had just popped her favourite balloon. She knew she should feel happy that her sister finally had a man in her life that had a noble and good bone in his body but she couldn’t muster the emotion when jealousy was riding her.

Her amber eyes met his dark ones but she couldn’t hold his gaze. It fell to the ground again. She didn’t want to look at him anymore. The blood staining his face and the harsh cuts across his bearded jaw and neck did nothing to dampen his feral handsome looks.

Erin envied Amelia for having him in her life.

“I want to keep moving.” She started off without him, following the winding path that was surrounded by black jagged rocks and bleached bones and stretched into an equally dark and bleak distance.

Erin was beginning to hate black.

The man easily caught up with her in a few long-legged strides and fell into step beside her, his broadsword strapped to his back again. He cut an imposing figure as he strolled along beside her, his air casual yet throwing off a lethal don’t-even-try-it vibe.

She wanted to give him the silent treatment but it had been days since she had spoken to someone and he was currently her mind and heart’s favourite subject. She wanted the goods on this man, every juicy bit of them.

“So... were you a captive here once too and that’s why you know your way around?” That question hung in the air between them.

His lip curled, revealing a flash of straight white teeth, and he frowned.

Clearly, he was still pissed at her for touching him. Well, sorry. She couldn’t have stopped herself if she had tried. She still wouldn’t be able to if she so much as glanced at the scars that he had evidently tattooed around, as though they were central to the design.

He was silent a few seconds longer and then looked down at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

Erin walked on a few paces, towards a long sloping drop into a valley below. She glanced down, seeing that the path she was on turned a corner ahead and continued close to a hundred feet below her.

He finally spoke. “You could say that I’m local.”

That unnerved her, especially when coupled with the bright crimson that flared in his dark irises, a corona surrounding his narrowed pupils.

Erin stepped away from him, backing towards the edge where it was rocky and the stones were loose underfoot. Her gaze darted down to the path far below her. Her footing was poor where she was but she didn’t want to be near him until she was sure it was safe. She would sooner risk falling than being within his reach.

He frowned at her and then at her feet, and held his hand out to her. “Come away from the edge.”

Erin shook her head.

If he was something terrible, then she was going to hit the slope, slide down to the path below and make a break for it. She would probably cut her bare legs up but it was better than being tortured by a demon. Had he only rescued her so he could toy with her and hurt her? Was this just another trick after all?

Her sister would never associate with something demonic and evil.

“Do you work for the Devil?” Erin shuffled backwards. His dark eyes flicked to her feet and then back to her eyes, and he stretched his hand closer to her, an impatient and concerned expression on his face. The Devil could change his appearance. This man had a voice that could melt her and so had the Devil. They were one and the same. “Are you the Devil?”

He laughed. “Hell, no. I’m not that evil. Do I look like I go around getting manicures between torture sessions?” He sighed and smiled at her. “I swear to you, Erin. I’m not here to hurt you... and I will keep you safe. Trust me?”

“No, I don’t trust you. I don’t even know you... you say you’re local but you don’t work for the bastard who held me captive, and you expect me to believe that shit?” She edged further away from him and he frowned, his eyes narrowing and expression switching to one of irritation. Anger flared in his eyes.

He growled, low and vicious, and the flecks of red in his eyes brightened. “I expect you to believe it because it’s the truth. I hate the bastard who kidnapped you, and would like nothing more than a chance at separating his head from his body. I’m risking my neck to save you and you dare accuse me of being the one loathsome creature I despise above all others?”

Erin backed off another step as he advanced one, until the balls of her feet hit the slope. Her heart thumped out a hard rhythm against her breastbone and blood rushed through her ears. His gaze locked on hers, challenging her to accuse him again, to voice any belief she still had that he was unworthy of her trust. She trembled and stared up into his eyes, searching them for a sign that he was lying to her.

His anger seemed genuine, born of hatred for a man that she too despised and disgust at being compared with him. He couldn’t blame her for being cautious though, surely? After everything she had been through, it was only natural for her to think everyone in this horrible place was out to get her, and he had admitted that he was a local.

The man backed off at last, the anger in his eyes melting away together with the red, leaving his irises dark. He sighed, his shoulders heaving with it, grimaced and rubbed a hand over his face.

“What am I supposed to say to make you believe me?” he whispered and met her gaze again. “Tell me that, Erin. I’ve trekked through Hell to find you, have fought and killed to reach you, have carried you and tended to you. I’ve risked my life to save you. Doesn’t that make me worthy of a little trust? You think I want to be here?”

No, she didn’t. He had mentioned more than once that he was risking everything by being in Hell, by saving her, and she felt terrible for doubting him.

He held his hand out to her again. “I swear to you, Erin, that I mean you no harm and I am here purely to rescue you and reunite you with your sister. Will you trust me to do that? Can you trust me?”

Erin’s better judgement said not to but she slipped her trembling right hand into his and stepped away from the edge. She looked up into his eyes. They glowed red around the edges again and in the centre too, highlighting his wide pupils. His gaze locked with hers and rocked her with a jolt that reached her soul.

“What’s your name?” she whispered, captivated by his eyes and lost in them. They had more power over her than the Devil’s had. She wanted to stare into their flaming depths for all eternity.

“Veiron,” he husked, his warm breath caressing her face, and Erin’s senses came alive, lighting up like an electrical storm. His masculine scent of dirt, aftershave and fresh sweat filled her nostrils. The warmth of his hand clasping hers heated her right down to her bones. The sound of his voice made her blood burn to hear him speak again. Her gaze delighted in discovering every tiny fleck of fire in his dark irises. The only sense left was one that cried out for a taste of him.

She might be losing her mind, but she knew without a doubt that she wanted this man regardless of what he was.

He was the most dangerous man she had ever met and he belonged to her sister, but there was something about him, something sensual and powerful, deadly and alluring, that she couldn’t resist. He had the smile of a demon, the body of a god, and the tenderness of an angel when he let his guard down.

Her captivity had been a nightmare.

But travelling through Hell with this man at her side was going to be a worse form of torture.