I am excited to welcome author Felicity Heaton, who is here to celebrate the release of her seventh Her Angel novel, Her Avenging Angel.
Once a proud angel of Heaven, Nevar is now a servant of Hell, bound to a new master—the King of Demons. Consumed by darkness and driven to seek revenge, he set in motion a series of events that awakened the Great Destroyer, a force that will bring about the apocalypse. Now, he is the creature’s master and the fate of our world rests in the hands of an angel with only darkness in his heart.
Lost in the mortal realm without any recollection of how she came to be there, Lysia is only aware that she has survived a great battle. When she stumbles into a demon bar, she finds more than a chance to discover what happened to her—she finds a dark and deadly angel warrior who stirs fire in her veins and awakens soul-searing passion she cannot deny.
With the mounting threat of the Great Destroyer, the forces of Heaven and Hell against him, and a band of dangerous angels intent on capturing Lysia on his heels, can Nevar protect the beautiful woman who is light to his darkness and find the strength to save the world?
Exclusive Excerpt from Her Avenging Angel
Nevar beat his black wings and swooped lower over the inhospitable obsidian basalt fields. Heat rose from the glowing orange cracks where lava had broken through, creating a pattern of deadly veins across the land. As far as he could see all around him, it was the same, an endless grim plain that would be impossible to traverse on foot.
Had the destroyer come this way?
He rubbed his jaw as he flew. It still ached from the blow the Devil had personally delivered. A punch that had sent him flying across the black courtyard of the Devil’s formidable fortress and crashing into the obsidian spires of rock that formed a sweeping curve around it.
His leg burned with the memory too. The damned spires were still repairing themselves after the battle that had taken place there several months ago, spewing lava from their broken tips and slowly climbing high into the thick acrid air. When he had struck the wall, his impact had created a fissure and lava had bled through, singeing his right thigh before he could escape it.
He growled, grinding his teeth, his head filled with black thoughts, dark desires to head back to the fortress and punish every Hell’s angel who had been present for his humiliation. The minions of the Devil had paused at their work to repair the courtyard flagstones and had laughed as he had suffered. His fangs lengthened as he pictured tearing into them with claw and tooth before silencing them with his blade and sending them back to Heaven to be reborn as angels of that realm.
They would learn not to laugh at him.
Nevar beat his wings and huffed, giving up the pleasing images and tempting thoughts. If he returned to the fortress, the Devil would kill him. He had threatened to do as much when he had banished Nevar from his sight for a period of seven days.
He wasn’t sure the Devil would come good on the threat to kill him, since he had warned Asmodeus and his cohorts to keep him alive at all costs as he was now the Great Destroyer’s master, but he wasn’t willing to risk it. The Devil had a temper and was liable to lose his head and butcher him, and then regret it afterwards. He had seen the powerful male kill the commander of the First Battalion, the best of the Hell’s angels under his command and a male the Devil had treated like a son, all because he had lost his temper over a bet the commander had won.
What made the whole thing more stupid in Nevar’s eyes was that the bet had been the birth date of Erin’s son, the Devil’s grandson.
The Devil had lost, and had taken his commander’s head for it, and had clearly regretted it afterwards when golden light had engulfed the angel’s body, taking him back to Heaven to be reborn. Nevar had been glad that he hadn’t been included in the bet, and Asmodeus had smiled smugly. The bastard had chosen a date weeks beyond the one his master had selected, ensuring he couldn’t possibly win the bet.
Nevar definitely wasn’t willing to risk his neck by returning to the fortress in order to dish out some vengeance on the Hell’s angels.
Hot air buffeted him and he swerved right, away from the broad expanse of lava river ahead of him. He would have to go around it. His gaze tracked the snaking glowing ribbon in both directions. Impossible. It stretched as far as his eyes could see, illuminating the darkness far into the distance.
He sighed and beat his wings to keep himself steady in the warm thick air.
His stomach growled, reminding him once again that he had forgotten to get something to eat when in the mortal realm.
He couldn’t fly for much longer without feeding and he was damned if he was going to plummet into a pool of lava and get himself killed and sent back to Heaven.
They had scoured Hell for the beast. There was no sign of it.
Had it hidden itself in one of the thousands of caves that dotted the immense landscape of Hell?
He opened a line of telepathic communication with Asmodeus. No sign of it in this direction.
None in this one either. Came the reply.
It was still strange being able to do this with Asmodeus. He had always been able to communicate with other angels of Heaven via telepathy, but had lost that talent when Asmodeus had contracted with him. He had thought the talent gone forever, until recently, when he had been cursing Asmodeus in his head and the angel had heard it and responded.
Asmodeus had never experienced telepathy before that point.
To say it had freaked his master out a little was an understatement.
Any idea at all where it might have gone? Nevar said and heard Asmodeus huff in his head.
The angel wasn’t pleased with his master, the Devil. The Devil had been vague when they had questioned him, eventually admitting that he had no information on where the beast might go.
Yet he’d had the audacity to punish Nevar and Asmodeus for not finding it the first time they had scoured Hell and had sent them back out to look for it again.
His stomach gurgled again, twisting in on itself so hard that he grimaced and rubbed it. He couldn’t concentrate, not with the constant pressing presence of his hunger. It was a weight in his gut that he could no longer ignore.
Maybe we should check the mortal world. It was worth a try.
I am starving. I am liable to drop into a boiling pit of lava or expire from lack of sustenance alone. You have orders to keep me alive.
Asmodeus grunted in response to that. Very well. Scour the mortal world for the beast and I will send word to Apollyon, and he can alert the others to the situation. Eat while you are there.
Nevar grinned, threw his hand out and cast a portal directly in front of him. He flew through the swirling black vortex, unwilling to linger for even a second in case his master changed his mind. He had a pass and he was taking it.
He landed in the middle of London, on a quiet broad street that bustled with mortals during the day. The rain-soaked pavements and road reflected the lights from the closed stores that lined the road. He stretched and focused to put his wings away. They shrank into his back, aching as they went, slow to do his bidding tonight. It had been weeks since he had used them and it had felt good to fly again. Their reluctance to disappear was his reluctance to see them gone for once. If his stomach had been full, he would have kept flying, taking in the mortal world from the air.
It was as empty as his master’s heart though and he needed to fill it and refuel before he could fly anywhere.
The mark on his chest pulsed, sending fire sweeping over the curve of the beast. He pressed his hand to his breastplate and grimaced, waiting for the pain to subside. When it did, he felt a glimmer of something that distinctly felt like fear.
He frowned at that. Perhaps it was his fear. Fear that Asmodeus would come for him again. Fear that he would spend forever trapped in Hell. Fear that the Devil would kill him and send him back to Heaven, to his worst nightmare. Although, he wouldn’t remember what a nightmare it was to him. He would forget everything the moment he died and was reborn as an angel of Heaven. He would forget how Heaven had used him.
He drew in a deep breath and focused on the mark on his chest. Where was the destroyer? If it was awake now, could it sense him? Did it know he was its master? If he stayed in one place for long enough, would it find him and save him from having to search for it?
He still wasn’t sure how such a gigantic beast could elude him and Asmodeus, and the Hell’s angels the Devil had dispatched to hunt for it too.
Unless it wasn’t in Hell.
He had goaded his master into letting him come to the mortal world so he could escape the constant torment and stench of Hell, feeding him a lie about the possibility of it being in this realm. What if it was here though?
There were many remote places on the planet where it could hide.
And it was a big fucking planet.
Nevar groaned. Was he doomed to spend the rest of his life flying around trying to locate the damned thing before it destroyed the world?
If he had to cover an entire planet, he was going to need a serious amount of fuel.
He kept his hand over the mark and pondered where the destroyer might be as he walked the familiar path down the warren of alleys towards Cloud Nine. Despite its grotty and often grim appearance, the club served some of the best food he had eaten in centuries. Full fat, full flavour, bad food. The sort mortals viewed as a future heart attack in the making.
Angels viewed it as superfood.
Fuck those greens and shoots and berries.
Meat oozing with flavour and fat was angelic superfood.
He knew angels who swung the other way when it came to their choice of superfood, preferring the high sugar content of cakes and sweets. Asmodeus was definitely one of those angels. The male could devour a whole chocolate gateaux in one sitting, and he had heard Liora mention in passing that his twin, Apollyon, could do the same.
Nevar could devour a whole spit-roasted pig.
His hand dropped to the bare patch of stomach between the edge of his chest plate and the slats of armour that protected his hips and he rubbed it, his mouth filling with saliva at the thought of the pulled pork buns and chicken wings that the club served.
Fuel up and head out. Do not linger. Do not drink. Understood?
Nevar growled at Asmodeus’s voice in his head and mentally flipped him off.
His master had no faith in him.
That was the plan… and it still is the plan. He severed the connection between them before Asmodeus could respond and turned down the alley that would bring him to Cloud Nine.
He stopped and frowned. The sign was off and there was no queue of mortals, but the club was open. What was going on? Only one way to find out. He walked towards the door.
The bouncer acknowledged him with a jerk of his chin and he pushed past the huge demon male and stepped into the club.
The lights were on inside, the colourful ones above the bar bathing the area and the demons milling around along its length. No music though.
His gaze sought the female he had met before, although he wasn’t sure why. It had been days since his last visit. She would be long gone, and it was stupid of him to hope that she would still be around, or remotely interested in him.
He headed for the bar, his eyes still scanning the demons for the woman even when he told himself to let her go and shove her out of his head.
A blonde cut into his path, her hands firmly planted on her hips, pale against her red jeans. A flicker of darkness danced in her eyes. Her stance caused her chest to jut upwards, showing off ample cleavage in her low cut black camisole. She narrowed her gaze on him and looked as if she was about to lose her pretty façade, revealing the hideous monster that lurked beneath her skin.
And she was pissed about something.
He scanned the club again, frowning as he noticed that the demons present were jittery too, disturbed for some reason. Had something happened?
If it had, he wasn’t sure why the boss was holding him responsible, and the intense glare she was giving him said she definitely thought it was his fault.
“Do something,” she snapped, sharp teeth flashing between her glossy red lips, and flicked her short hair away from her face.
He arched an eyebrow down at her. “I don’t follow. What is your problem?”
She turned and pointed, and the crowd parted.
Nevar’s jaw almost dropped.
The female was there, curled up and sleeping on the grimy black bar top, naked again.
But not exposed.
Dark leathery wings wrapped around her slender form, cocooning her.
His feet moved of their own accord, carrying him across the room to her, unable to resist the powerful pull he felt towards her. The demons stepped back, making more room and allowing him and the boss to pass and approach the female.
What was she?
Meet Felicity Heaton!
Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons!
Want to purchase Felicity’s novels?
- Her Dark Angel
- Her Fallen Angel
- Her Warrior Angel
- Her Guardian Angel
- Her Demonic Angel
- Her Wicked Angel
- Her Avenging Angel
Her Angel Vol 1
Find all the links, a fantastic 6 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and how to enter the giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at Felicity Heaton’s website.