Unleash, the sixth book in Felicity Heaton’s Vampire
Erotic Theatre romance series is now available. To celebrate the release, she’s
holding a fantastic giveaway at her website and she’s also offering the first
book in the series, Covet, for FREE at selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books and
Apple iBooks Stores.
GIVEAWAY TIME!
Here’s more about Unleash, including an excerpt from
this long vampire romance novel.
Unleash
A powerful vampire lost deep in his bloodlust, Snow is a savage animal,
mindless with rage and a thirst for violence, and trapped with no hope of
awakening from an endless nightmare… until a song draws him up from the abyss,
restoring his sanity but leaving him haunted by the sweet feminine scent of
lilies and snow, and fragmented familiar lyrics.
When the mysterious and beautiful songstress reappears in Snow’s room at
Vampirerotique, she awakens a fierce protective streak and stirs dark desires
that drive him to claim her as his female, even when he knows his touch will
destroy her innocence.
A single forbidden taste is all it takes to unleash emotions in Aurora that she
shouldn’t possess, tearing her between duty and desire, and luring her into
surrendering to her wildfire passion and embracing hungers that burn so hotly
they threaten to consume them both.
One act of kindness can lead to one thousand acts of sin though, each a black mark
against the bearer’s soul and another grain of sand that slips through an
hourglass. The clock is ticking and time is almost up. Can beauty save the
beast?
Unleash is available from these and many other ebook
stores:
Pain. Blinding. Debilitating. Sickening. Pain.
It rocked every inch of him. Throbbed deep in his
marrow. Lived inside him and refused to die, no matter how hard he struggled to
contain and obliterate it.
There was peace too though, a strange sense of calm
and warmth that felt as though it was trying to subdue the pain and drive it
away. There was also a weird notion that he hadn’t been alone.
Snow’s head thumped the hardest, fiery lightning
splintering across his skull and causing his eyes to ache. He opened them a
sliver but the light pierced them, increasing his agony, and he screwed them
shut again. He tried to rub the salt and grit from his eyes and grimaced when
steel cuffs bit into his wrists, causing sharp lances to jab across them.
His ankles blazed too.
He managed to crack his eyes open enough that he could
see his wrists. Shackled and scarred. Multiple lacerations. Dried and fresh
blood.
Snow focused on them and his body, taking mental note
of any injuries and how weak he felt, trying to gauge how long he had been
chained to his bed. Possibly a few days. His senses came fully back online.
He wasn’t alone.
His gaze slid painfully down to the male sitting in
the wooden chair beside him to his right.
Snow spoke but it came out as a gravelly rumble. He
cleared his throat, realised it was sore, figured he had been screaming his
head off as usual, and tried again.
“How long have you been in the room?” It took a lot of
effort to get that many words out. He drew in a deep breath and it wheezed past
his throat and rattled in his lungs. Snow changed his previous calculation to
over a week without leaving his bed. He didn’t normally feel this refreshed
after an extended period lost to his insanity though.
Perhaps he was wrong about how long he had been lost
to his bloodlust. He might have screamed more than usual this time.
It would help if he could remember what had triggered
his latest round of crazy.
“Not five minutes,” Antoine said, his voice a low
steady rumble that spoke of fatigue. His brother looked like hell too,
dishevelled and weary, and that made Snow look away.
Guilt gnawed at his heart. He had worried Antoine
again. Hurt him.
“I sensed you calming and came to check on you, and
found you sleeping soundly so I thought I would stay a while to keep you
company.” Antoine raked his fingers through his thick brown hair. It was longer
than usual. Definitely more than a week. More than two? “I did not mean to wake
you.”
Snow frowned at his brother’s odd words.
“You did not wake me. I wasn’t sleeping… I mean… I was
at least conscious.” Snow looked himself over, the pain in his eyes fading as
they adjusted to him using them again. Clearly, he had missed something. He
didn’t remember sleeping. He remembered the rage, the dark hunger for blood and
violence, the insane craving to kill everyone who came near him but being
unable to get free and satisfy that desire. He remembered feeling trapped in
his body, caged by his bloodlust, unable to break its hold over him. He
recalled coming around from bouts of unconsciousness to rage all over again
too. He had been doing neither of those things prior to this moment. “I was
asleep.”
Antoine nodded, a glimmer of hope and curiosity in his
blue eyes, and rose to his feet. “And you are awake now. Very awake.”
Snow understood why he looked curious and what he was
implying. His bloodlust had receded. Receded but not gone. Snow could feel it
lurking within him. Something had driven it back but it was waiting to seize
hold of him again. Something that had made him sleep too. He never slept before
coming around from one of his attacks. He was always unconscious or came out of
it while awake.
Antoine took some items from the ebony nightstand to
Snow’s right. Cotton wool and antiseptic by the looks of things. His brother
doused a wad of the white padding and moved to Snow’s feet, and began cleaning
the blood from his ankles.
He looked at his younger brother and frowned, unable
to shake the feeling that he hadn’t been alone, and it hadn’t been Antoine’s
presence he had felt.
“No one was in here with you?” he said and Antoine
shook his head, came up beside him and began cleaning his neck and shoulders.
“You did not hear anyone singing?”
“No.” Antoine’s expression darkened, as though the
thought of someone being in here with him disturbed him. Had he been that far
gone that Antoine had wanted to keep everyone away from him? Someone must have
come regardless. He sniffed and smelled Antoine and Sera, and lily of the valley
mixed with snow. No one at the theatre smelled that way. “Perhaps you were
dreaming?”
Snow hoped his brother was right, but the sense that
someone had been here with him plagued him, together with the song. It had been
familiar. His brow crinkled as he struggled to remember it, the tune and lyrics
drifting towards the surface of his mind only to slip through his grasp and
disappear again, teasing him.
He growled. “Someone was singing… I swear it,
Brother.”
Antoine moved to sit on the bed beside him and gave
him a sympathetic smile. “Do not push yourself. Will you take a little blood?”
Snow forced himself to nod. He wasn’t hungry but it
would ease Antoine’s mind and help Snow maintain his current mental state. It
would also take his mind off the feelings he couldn’t shake. Maybe Antoine was
right and he had been dreaming. He had long ago made it a habit to forget his
dreams upon waking, because he never saw anything good in them. His dreams were
where the past waited to punish him.
Seeing his brother every night and knowing what he had
done to him all those years ago was punishment enough for his sins.
Antoine left the bed and walked around the foot of it
to the cluttered black dressing table on the left side of the room, opposite
the door, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor. He picked up the small
metal canister there, unscrewed the cap and brought it to his nose. He sniffed,
smiled, and picked up a glass and returned to Snow, settling on the bed beside
him again.
Antoine poured some blood into the glass and held it
out to Snow.
Snow reluctantly nodded, closed his eyes and opened
his mouth. He hated cold blood, but it was all he had known for centuries now.
He could no longer remember what fresh blood straight from the vein tasted
like.
Antoine carefully brought the glass to his lips and
tipped it, allowing a steady flow of it to enter Snow’s mouth. He swallowed it
down and grimaced, suppressing a shudder as it chilled his throat. Disgusting.
It did what he needed it to though. The moment it
reached his stomach, his body began to absorb it, using it to restore some of
his strength. With his returning strength came memories that had eluded him.
The black empty stage of Vampirerotique bathed in blood and entrails. An
unfamiliar female and a child. Payne defending them. Males attacking his
brother.
His brother’s blood spilling.
Snow growled and bucked against the restraints, the
image of Antoine bleeding from wounds across his chest driving his bloodlust
back to the surface. He ground his teeth as his fangs elongated, filling his
mouth, and threw his head back and roared.
“Snow!” Antoine pressed his palm against Snow’s
forehead and pushed his head down onto the black pillows, effectively
restraining him. “Look at me, Brother.”
Snow rolled his eyes open and sought Antoine. Antoine
knelt over him, concern shining in his pale blue eyes.
“I am well. See for yourself.”
Snow dropped his eyes to his brother’s chest. No blood
marred the dark material of his shirt. No wounds. Antoine had already healed.
Snow breathed slowly to calm himself and kept his eyes locked on his brother.
He was well. Not bleeding. Not hurt.
Not dying because of him.
“Brother,” Snow said and Antoine frowned at him. He
ached to be free of his bonds so he could take Antoine into his arms and hold
him. He needed to reassure himself that his brother was unharmed, alive and
with him. He longed to feel that he did have the power to break the hold of his
bloodlust even when he feared that he didn’t. All he could do was ask though.
“Your injuries are healed?”
Antoine’s dark eyebrows knitted into a confused line.
“It is a simple question. How are you feeling?” Snow
tried again, needing an answer this time, afraid that if Antoine didn’t
reassure him, he would lose his mind again and the bloodlust would claim him.
Antoine released his forehead only to stroke it. “Are
you feeling alright?”
Snow frowned at that. He had asked the same damn thing
and Antoine hadn’t answered. Was Antoine still injured? Had he not healed?
“I am fine… but your injuries… tell me you have
healed, Brother.” Snow tried to touch him and the cuffs sliced into his wrists
again. He winced at the fleeting stab of pain. Antoine took some more cotton
wool from the black nightstand and cleaned the blood off his wrists for him,
and then cast him a worried glance. “What is it?”
Antoine sat back on the bed and Snow could sense his
concern and frustration. He lobbed the bloodied cotton wool into the bin near
the nightstand, drawing Snow’s attention to how full it was. Some had fallen
out, littering his wooden floor. How long had he been lost to bloodlust?
“Antoine. Answer me.”
His younger brother’s expression grew even more
concerned. “I do not understand a word you are saying, Snow, and you are
beginning to scare me.”
Snow frowned now and thought about the words that had
left his lips. They had seemed normal to him.
“I never learned the language of our family’s
homeland.” Antoine refilled the glass with blood and rested it on his knee.
Snow stared at him, struggling to take in what he had
said. He had been speaking the old language?
His eyes shot wide and he tried to sit up, only to
have the cuffs around his wrists jerk him back against the pillows. Antoine
hastily set the glass down on the nightstand and grabbed his shoulders, his
fear flowing over Snow. Evidently, he thought Snow was having a relapse.
For once, it wasn’t the case.
“The prince and… homeland. Prince.” Snow knew he
wasn’t making any sense and it wasn’t because he was speaking the old language
this time. He was speaking English. The look in his brother’s eyes as they
darted between his and the glass of blood said he definitely thought the blood
had had a negative effect on him, driving him back to insanity.
“Are you okay, Snow?” Antoine moved his hands to
Snow’s face, cupping both of his cheeks.
“Not crazy for a change,” he snarled and instantly
regretted it when Antoine released him and picked up the glass. “Prince. The
song. Winter skies. Snow.”
Antoine lifted the glass to Snow’s lips. “Drink a little
more. You need to sleep. Do you feel you can sleep?”
What he wanted to do was slap his brother into the
next century and get him to listen, but any act of violence right now would
have Antoine calling in Javier and restraining him until he forced blood down
his throat and possibly stuck him with a lion-sized dose of sedative.
Snow didn’t have good memories of the last time they
had tried that one. He had hallucinated for days about all manner of weird
creatures and demons jumbled in with flashbacks of his past, hadn’t slept at
all, and had come out of it worse than before they had tried to tranquilize
him.
“I will try,” Snow said and allowed Antoine to pour a
little more blood into his mouth. It was cold on his tongue and he swallowed it
quickly. A sense of calm returned as it flowed into him, making him sleepy.
“Prince. Snow. Winter skies.”
It swam around his head, the melody haunting him and
chasing sleep away.
“I am sure it will come to you, Brother.” Antoine set
the glass down again and sat beside him, his closeness comforting Snow and
easing him. “Do not push yourself.”
“Stay a while,” Snow mumbled, struggling to keep his
eyes open. He didn’t want to be alone. “Will you?”
“Of course,” Antoine said.
Sleep tried to overcome Snow but he fought it, not
wanting to waste this precious time with his brother. He didn’t know when the
bloodlust would win and grip him again, and right now he feared next time it
wouldn’t let go. Right now, he wanted to be normal again.
“How long was I out?” he whispered and blinked
rapidly, trying to keep sleep at bay a little longer. He should have refused
the blood. It always made him sleepy when he was recovering. “You look like
shit.”
Antoine smiled but it didn’t lift the darkness from
under his eyes. “It was over three weeks ago that Chica took you down.”
Twenty-one days. It scared the hell out of Snow.
Antoine’s voice was hoarse, strained as he spoke. “I
thought I had lost you this time.”
Tears rose into Snow’s eyes, mirrored in Antoine’s,
and he fought to stop them from falling. He didn’t know what to tell his
brother. He wanted to tell him that if he had known that he had been scaring
him, he would have battled his bloodlust and overcome it to take away his fear
and his pain, but it would be a lie. How many times had he lied to his brother?
Too many times, and always about the same thing.
He had promised Antoine that he would fight and he
would live, and he would never succumb to the temptation death presented.
It was becoming impossible to keep that promise.
“I am back now,” Snow said, voice thick with emotions
that felt more like a burden each day longer that he lived.
Snow wished he could offer his brother more comfort.
He wasn’t sure if he would come back from the next bout of bloodlust. He was
surprised he had come back from this one. He glanced at his wrists again. The
blood on them had been fresh when he had woken, no more than an hour old, yet
all the cuts had been nothing but scars.
Snow fell quiet, allowing Antoine to talk to him, his
mind elsewhere. The healed cuts and the sleep. The sanity. Someone had been
with him and whoever they were, they knew how to calm him.
They had sung to him in the old language.
That was why he had spoken it to Antoine.
Snow couldn’t recall the last time he had spoken it
before today. It had been centuries or possibly more. Had he spoken it since
Antoine was born? He didn’t think he had.
It hadn’t been a dream.
Someone had been here in this room with him.
A female who smelled of lily of the valley and snow.
A woman who had sung in the language of his homeland.
A song for a prince and an angel.
Unleash is
available now from all Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, and Apple iBooks Stores. It
will soon be available for Barnes and Noble Nook, Sony Reader and also in paperback.
Books in the Vampire Erotic Theatre romance series
About Felicity Heaton:
Felicity Heaton writes passionate paranormal romance
books as Felicity Heaton and F E Heaton. In her books she creates detailed
worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping
romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy
shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons!
If you're a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara
Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then
you will enjoy her books too.
If you love your angels a little dark and wicked,
Felicity Heaton’s best selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong,
powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series she writes as F
E Heaton or any of her stand alone vampire romance books she writes as Felicity
Heaton. Or if you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate
and erotic then try Felicity Heaton’s new Vampire Erotic Theatre series.
In 2011, five of her six paranormal romance books
received Top Pick awards from Night Owl Reviews, Forbidden Blood was nominated
as Best PNR Vampire Romance 2011 at The Romance Reviews, and many of her
releases received five star reviews from numerous websites.
If you want to
know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her
at the
following places:
It was the mystique of Arizona’s history and
landscape that called to Deena and catapulted her career as an author. When
she’s not writing romance and urban fantasy in the wee small hours of the
morning or in the deep, dark of night, Deena teaches language arts to middle
school students. She currently lives in Gilbert, Arizona with her husband and
two children, but New Jersey will always tug at her heartstrings. She believes
in angels and loves connecting with her fans, so find her at deenaremiel.com.
