WWJD? #Angels #Hell #Blogtour

By Janine Ashbless (Guest Blogger)

When I first started writing my Book of the Watchers trilogy, all about fallen angels and a love forbidden by Heaven, I promised myself that I would not bottle out of the Big Questions.

Using the Judeo-Christian mythos (angels, demons, Heaven, Hell, sin) is nothing new in fantasy literature, of course – look at The Exorcist, or Buffy, or the Narnia books. It’s particularly common in the Horror genre, but does pop up in Romance too.

But I’ve always had a sort of niggling irritation as a reader/watcher, because the characters almost never address what seem to me the elephants in the room. Like, is eternal torment really a just punishment for the mundanely wicked? Is the standard of “wicked” immutable? - is everyone going to Hell for sins like sex outside marriage or eating bacon? If you postulate an omnipotent, omniscient, perfect God in the Judeo-Christian tradition, how do fictional characters keep ending up in Hell “by mistake”? Why doesn’t God interfere in the action personally? (Yes I know He doesn’t IRL, but in a fictional world where you’ve got supernatural agents who regularly converse with Him, and are battling for the fate of the world, there’s even less excuse for the Problem of Evil). Since God is all-powerful and demons aren’t, shouldn’t an exorcism work every time? (They never seem to…)

Most characters never ask these awkward questions. But if they did, of course, there are various possible answers. Maybe there is going to be a literal Deus ex Machina that will fix everything. Maybe the “good” angels aren’t so good, and are lying about just following divine orders. Maybe God’s senile, like in Pullman’s novels. Maybe this is not really a Judeo-Christian universe with an omnipotent deity, but a Manichaean one in which Good and Evil are evenly balanced and either might triumph in their eternal battle.

I promised myself that my heroine Milja would ask the awkward questions. She’s released a fallen angel from his prison and fallen in love with him — does that make her dammed for eternity? (She certainly worries that she is.) Is all sexual desire sinful? Just the dark and kinky stuff? Why doesn’t God just lock Azazel back up again —why rely on the loyal angels to do that, and frankly what the heck are those angels up to?

And I promised that I’d answer those questions by the end of The Prison of the Angels. Because writing a torrid romance with increasing BSDSM elements and a someone-stop-the-Apocalypse plot was just not enough of a challenge ;-)

I think I damned myself!

xxx

Janine

Blurb

Milja Petak’s world has fallen apart.

Her lover, the fallen angel Azazel, has cast her aside in rage and disgust. The other contender for her heart, the Catholic priest Egan Kansky, was surrendered back into the hands of the shadowy Vatican organization, Vidimus, after sustaining life-threatening injuries.

She has killed and she has betrayed. She is alone, homeless, and at the end of her tether - torn apart by guilt and the love she has lost.

But neither Heaven nor its terrifying representatives on Earth have finished with Milja.

Both her lovers need her in order to further their very different plans, and both passionately need her, though they may try to deny it.

Milja is once again forced into a series of choices as she uncovers the secrets Heaven has been guarding for centuries. But this time it is not just her heart at stake, or even the fate of a fallen angel.

This time, the choices she makes will change everything.

This time it’s the End of the World.

The Prison of the Angels is the third in the acclaimed Book of the Watchers trilogy, following on from Cover Him with Darkness, and In Bonds of the Earth.

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Excerpt from The Prison of the Angels

The cold water flashed like white fire over every inch of my skin. It burnt my eyeballs and my lips and the inside of my throat, and beyond the white fire was a darkness so immense that it swallowed me whole.

I fell forever.

Something grabbed my wrist. Something so hot that it boiled away the darkness, so that there was suddenly light flashing in my eyes. I felt myself grabbed up bodily and lifted. I felt heat against my lips, blowing fire into my frozen lungs. I saw the wooden posts of a flight of steps, and then I pitched forward onto hands and knees in the shallow snow, choking up pond-water. In front of my blurred vision an inchoate swirl of darkness poured up the steps onto the lit porch and then disappeared. Unseen, something slammed against the door, a knock that made the house shake.

I was on the ground beneath the back porch of John’s house, I realized, shuddering.

Mama. Oh Mama. The thought seemed to come from nowhere.

Three times the knock sounded, and on the third the door burst open—outward, onto the porch—to reveal Egan in the lit room within; shaven, shirtless, and frozen mid-lunge for what I could only assume was a weapon of some sort.

He stared.

I tried to cry out.

“Milja?”

Grabbing his pistol he ran out barefoot onto the porch and looked around for enemies that were not there. Then he clattered down and pulled me up into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck and he carried me up the steps and over the threshold—not like a bride, but like a child he could hold tight against his torso, his wrists locked under my thighs. His skin blazed against mine. He hefted me into the kitchen and propped my ass on the table in front of the range.

“What the hell?” he demanded in a low fierce voice, sweeping locks of sodden hair back from my face. My hat seemed to have disappeared. “What happened, Milja? What were you doing out there?”

“Ice. I fell in the lake.” My jaw chattered. It was obvious I was telling the truth—I was soaked from head to toe, and after clasping me so close he wasn’t much drier himself.

“Feckssake, woman!” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking of?” He shucked off my coat, which lifted a sodden ton from my shoulders, then stooped to pull my boots off; ice-water spilt all over the floor.

I tried to strip off my gloves but my fingers weren’t capable of gripping anything.

“Come here, come here,” he said softly from where he knelt at my feet, grabbing my wrists and peeling away the useless gloves. He pressed my hands on either side of his warm neck, holding them there. They must have felt like ice-blocks to him, but he didn’t wince.

He looked like a knight kneeling before his queen, I thought. I could feel his pulse.

“I’ll go get towels, Milja. Are you going to be okay a sec?”

I nodded, though he probably couldn’t see it through the shuddering. He rose and hurried off, leaving me with the radiant warmth of the stove. I thought I should probably get the rest of my clothes off, but even after I struggled with my fly zipper my jeans seemed determined to cling to my bum-cheeks.

I heard the back door bang shut and I flinched.

Azazel?

Had he been gathering himself to come get Egan? Was he the one who had saved me from the black waters? Where was he now?

Egan came back in carrying armfuls of towels. “Alright?”

“I’m okay,” I told him, smiling through my shudders. He was still shirtless, and I could see the faint Ethiopian scars on his arm and chest.

He wrapped my hands one at a time in a towel, chaffed them dry, and then set them deliberately against the hard, hot wall of his torso.

Oh God.

Then he slipped all the buttons on my thick flannel shirt—the one I’d chosen this morning precisely because it wasn’t provocative or distracting—and he only slowed when he realized I was wearing just a bra-top underneath. My nipples stood in shamefully hard points under the stretch cotton. I tried to wriggle out of the long tartan sleeves of my shirt on my own, to spare his blushes, but everything clung like a freezing cold second skin and he had to help.

The shallow slash on my forearm wasn’t bleeding anymore, but each brush of his fingers felt like hot coals.

My wet garment made a slap as it struck the floor.

He draped a towel around my shoulders and another over my head. He started rubbing the water from my face and hair and scalp, his movements precise and gentle. For long moments I was buried in a soft darkness. I reached out, blind, to put my hands back on his bare ribs. I could feel his heart pounding beneath them, like a beast pacing a cage.

I have no idea when it all changed for him. When his grueling self-denial simply fell apart, like a garment worn and washed until the fabric was weakened beyond all use. All I knew was that he dropped the towel off my damp head, cupped my face in both his hands and—absolutely without warning—kissed me.

About Janine

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try "Cover Him with Darkness," "Heart of Flame," or "The King's Viper." If you prefer challenging erotica, go for "Red Grow the Roses" or "Named and Shamed" instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She's also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora's Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology 'Geek Love'.

Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and - for five years of muddy feet and shouting - as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.

Her work has been described as:

"Hardcore and literate" (Madeline Moore) and "Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love." (Portia Da Costa)

Author Links

Janine Ashbless website: http://www.janineashbless.com/

Janine Ashbless on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless

Sinful Press website: https://www.sinfulpress.co.uk

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/janine-ashbless-4/

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Oh, the Places You’ll Go! (#pnr #giveaway #Ethiopia)

By Janine Ashbless (Guest Blogger)

“The Scapegoat Azazel himself has taken you for his paramour. And exposure to his essence changes you.”

- In Bonds of the Earth

When I started writing for publication, I had no idea how it would change me. I thought “I’ll make stuff up, and I’ll write it down, and then people might read it – basically it all depends what I can come with in my imagination,” and that was about the extent of what I pictured the writing life as.

Bear in mind that my chosen genre was erotica. I didn’t have a wild past of swinging or partying to draw upon — in fact I’m not sure that I’d even been to bed with another woman at that stage. I was an ordinary, dullish geekish female, writing fantasy erotica about bronze-age warriors and werewolves and undead and gigantic dragon cocks, so if it was all in my head then that didn’t matter, did it? It didn’t matter that I was socially shy and awkward, that I couldn’t bear to hear the sound of my own voice on tape, and greatly disliked my own body.

Fast forward eighteen years, and I’m still an erotica author, currently writing a trilogy about fallen angels: The Book of the Watchers. I still make stuff up. All sorts of stuff. But writing has changed me beyond recognition.

Writing got me into blogging – first all a group blog for Black Lace authors, Lust Bites, and then my own. I post three or four times a week and my entire routine revolves around it. I took tea in the House of Lords as part of an author’s campaign group just because I thought it would make a good blog post.

Writing got me onto Facebook, and opened up the whole community of amazing erotica writers out there, most of whom are women, most of whom are progressive and gutsy and politically active, and some of whom I’ve met in person now. I used to be a flaming leftie PC hippy by the standards of people I worked with, but OH BOY have I had to confront my prejudices and my conformity and my unthinking entitlement over the last decade.

Writing got me into a BDSM/fetish nightclub and whipped in public. It got me to Erotica conventions and expos where I’ve hung out with sex-workers and techies and political activists. It got my picture into a couple of national newspapers. It got me standing up on stages reading absolute filth to strangers, and recording podcasts and video that anyone online could see. It got me editing an anthologies. It got me writing HTML and making Powerpoint presentations, and sitting on a panel at the World Fantasy Convention.

Writing got me posing naked for photographs that appeared in a book.

Writing got me to Montenegro, in the south of Europe, because the heroine of The Book of the Watchers, Milja Petak, was born there and large parts of Vol.1: Cover Him With Darkness, are set in Montenegro. I believe in the importance of getting details right in a novel, especially if you’re going to be writing about someone else’s country or culture. So it was my responsibility as an author to get my ass out there and see the place with my own eyes — the remote and barren limestone mountains, the beautiful Mediterranean coastline, the ancient monasteries of the Serbian Orthodox faith.

For the same reason, I went to Ethiopia for twenty days when I was writing Vol.2: In Bonds of the Earth, because it’s a cradle of ancient Christianity that very few in the West know about, and absolutely essential to the whole plot of the trilogy — Ethiopia is the nation that preserved the apocryphal Book of Enoch when it was wiped from the Biblical canon. I’ve sat with Gelada baboons because I’m a writer. I’ve walked through subterranean passages into ancient rock-cut churches. I’ve stood fifty yards from the original Ark of the Covenant (well, maybe…).

Writing has transformed me. Writing has — literally — put me on the map of literature. Here I am, middle island, in tiny tiny lettering, lol:

I have so many reasons to love the writer’s life. And I’d never have believed it if you’d told me at the start.   xxx   Janine

Blurb

“I will free them all.”

When Milja Petak released the fallen angel Azazel from five thousand years of imprisonment, she did it out of love and pity. She found herself in a passionate sexual relationship beyond her imagining and control – the beloved plaything of a dark and furious demon who takes what he wants, when he wants, and submits to no restraint. But what she hasn’t bargained on is being drawn into his plan to free all his incarcerated brothers and wage a war against the Powers of Heaven.

As Azazel drags Milja across the globe in search of his fellow rebel angels, Milja fights to hold her own in a situation where every decision has dire consequences. Pursued by the loyal Archangels, she is forced to make alliances with those she cannot trust: the mysterious Roshana Veisi, who has designs of her own upon Azazel; and Egan Kansky, special forces agent of the Vatican – the man who once saved then betrayed her, who loves her, and who will do anything he can to imprison Azazel for all eternity.

Torn every way by love, by conflicting loyalties and by her own passions, Milja finds that she too is changing – and that she must do things she could not previously have dreamt of in order to save those who matter to her.

In Bonds of the Earth is the second in the Book of the Watchers trilogy and the sequel to Cover Him With Darkness.

Excerpt from In Bonds of the Earth

Wrapping the cheap cotton throw from the foot of the bed around my bare body, I padded through to the doorway. The Archangel Michael stood in the middle of my small apartment, looking about him at the book shelves and the pictures. A paperback copy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo slipped from his hand back onto the low table.

“Hello, Milja. Nice place. Has he moved his toothbrush in yet?”

It was like waking to find a giant bird of prey in my tiny living room; he looked wildly unsuited to a domestic setting and way too big for it, even with wings furled. In fact, with that Roman nose and those unblinking amber eyes, there was something distinctly golden eagle-like about him. If he stretched out he could knock over walls, I thought.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked. “This is my home. You can’t just come barging in!”

“You’re right,” he said, looking startled. “I have to have your permission. No, hold on, wait…that’s vampires. Shame.”

I pursed my lips. “Well, God certainly did not hold back on the sarcasm when he made you guys.”

He smirked. If you’re that good-looking, even a less-than-warm smile can be a weapon of devastating charm. Turning to the couch, he sat down with arms draped over the back and knees spread. It was not so much an invitation as a claiming of territory.

“What do you want?” I kept my voice hard, even as I thought of the icon of Saint Michael that had stood guard over the key in my father’s church. That holy painting had always made me feel nervous as a child, and he was no less intimidating in the flesh. His piercing gaze rested lightly upon me, with all the gentleness of a sword-point.

“Nothing.”

His rigger boots were caked in dried mud, I noticed, and flaking on my rug. I wished he would blink. It still creeped me out, even though Azazel should have inured me to it. “Angels aren’t supposed to lie. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting.”

“So, what…you’re sitting guard over me until Azazel comes back? Is that your plan?”

“He’s too much of a coward to face me. Runs every time.”

“If that’s the way you want to call it.”

He looked at the kitchen door. “I see you have a kettle. You got any tea? I like that Earl Grey stuff. Tastes like flowers.”

“I know the rules, you know. You can’t actually do anything to me.”

“True enough. And I’m not stopping you leaving, if that’s worrying you.”

“I can move out. Get a new place.”

“That’s fine, I’ll find you. This apartment’s a bit small for the two of us, to be honest.”

I clenched my jaw, weighing my options. “Okay,” I said, and dropped my wrap to reveal my naked body, in all its post-coital salty glow.

That wiped the smile off his lips. “Don’t play those games,” he growled, sitting up and looking away from me.

Love is Azazel’s weak spot. Shame is theirs. They’re terrified of their own human flesh.

“What? Does this make you uncomfortable? That’s a pity, seeing as how it’s my house and I like to walk around it naked.”

“You are shameless.” His gaze was sliding all over the place, not daring to settle on me.

“I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” I hefted my breasts and jiggled them. “They’re my tits. In my apartment. If you don’t want to see, clear out.”

“Put your robe back on,” he rasped.

“Oops,” I said. “Did I drop it?” Turning my back to him, I spread my feet and, straight-legged, bent over to pick the fabric up again. Nice and slow…

He moved so fast he’d launched me across the room and onto my bed before I even realized he was out of his seat. The abused mattress twanged in alarm. It knocked the wind out of me—and more than that, shocked me half to death. I wasn’t in the least bit hurt, not even bruised, but I hadn’t expected him to touch me at all, under the rules. Maybe the Boatman sailed closer to the wind than I’d bargained for.

“Don’t do that, whore!” he barked, leaning into my face. He looked furious. I knew why. It takes a human decades to learn how to deal with all the things that come with an adult body—all those hormones and instincts—without losing control. Angels never had the advantage of a gradual introduction.

I had two choices: surrender or fight. I bared my teeth and snarled right back at him, matching his rage and contempt. “Or what? You’re going to rape me? ’Cause I think that might just count as a fall from Grace, don’t you? And then you’d be royally fucked, Mister Michael.”

He recoiled, drawing himself up in undisguised horror. I took advantage of the gap between us to roll over and pull the drawer of my bedside cabinet open, pulling out the silicon rabbit sex toy I’d been given at my graduation party. I hadn’t used it in months, I couldn’t even remember if there were any batteries in it, and I certainly wasn’t feeling horny, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

“Wanna watch?” I asked, spreading my legs wide. “Because that’s what us girls do when we’re home alone these modern days. You can go into the other room if it squicks you out to see. Then you’ll only have to listen to the noises I make.”

He turned on his heel and stomped away, slamming his hands into the doorframe hard enough to crack the wood. But he didn’t leave altogether. He was just that bit too stubborn.

Buy links

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Print:

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About the Author

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try "Cover Him with Darkness," "Heart of Flame," or "The King's Viper." If you prefer challenging erotica, go for "Red Grow the Roses" or "Named and Shamed" instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She's also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora's Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology 'Geek Love'.

Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and - for five years of muddy feet and shouting - as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.

Her work has been described as: 
 

"Hardcore and literate" (Madeline Moore) and "Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love." (Portia Da Costa).

You can find Janine on Facebook or at her website or blog.

Author picture credit to David Woolfall.

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: 

http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/janine-ashbless-3/

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog tour organized by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Sneak Peek: Heavenly Desire by J.L. Sheppard

[This 300+ page novel is on sale for 99 cents at the moment. See details below! ~ Lisabet]

Heavenly Desire, Elemental Sisters III

By: J.L. Sheppard

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Length/Pages: 324

Will he sacrifice his wings for a woman he loves but can never keep?

Jade Ashley has a past she'd like to forget and a destiny she isn't aware of. A stranger, Clyde, saves her from an attack and demonstrates extraordinary abilities she believed only she possessed. She soon realizes he's her guardian angel sent to reunite her with her long lost sisters, who like her are part of a new breed of immortals, Elementals, prophesied to determine the outcome of the upcoming war.

Clyde, an angel, battles the one thing he believes will lead to his fall from heaven—his new found emotions, forbidden among his kind. Nonetheless, the Angel Lords promise to promote him to warrior when he completes his last assignment—to find Jade. When he does, emotions he never knew possible arise. For the first time in two thousand years, he cursed his existence. Knowing she can never be his, will he sacrifice his wings for a woman he loves but can't keep?

Excerpt

He bent toward her, wrapped one arm around her waist, the other around her back, then buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled.

Relishing the feel of her body melded against his, he forgot the worries consuming him. She soothed his ache with a mere touch, with a mere embrace.

Exactly what he’d wanted, exactly what he needed.

She then pressed her full lips against his cheek, kissing him lightly.

An innocent kiss. There was no passion behind it, but an unconscious consuming need, one he’d never felt, swelled inside him—desire. It was exciting, overwhelming and terrifying, blocking logic and reason.

All he wanted now was a single kiss. All he could think about was how her soft lips would feel pressed against his.

Marvelous, he concluded.

It was absurd to want what he did and feel what he felt, for he was an angel. Carnal desires even as insignificant as kisses were for others, for all others except his breed, and yet he felt it so deeply it seared him.

The desire that gripped him didn’t release him even after she unhooked her arms from around his neck, and the warmth of her body melted away.

There he stood, immobile, battling the desire she’d sparked. He didn’t want to leave yet knew he had to before he’d acted out his longing.

He willed his body to move. Finally, he placed one foot behind the other, stepped back and strode away praying the yearning he had no right to feel for a woman who would never be his would soon subside.

Reviews

“The author brings the story to life with well written scenes that capture the imagination while the suspense and drama draw the reader into the story and the characters are strong, bewitching and ensnare the readers from the very beginning.”

– Night Owl Reviews, 5 Stars

“…Love this series… [Heavenly Desire] is full of romance, surprises and secrets… If you love paranormal romance, do not miss this series.”

– Paranormal Romance Guild, 5 Stars

Buy Links

TWRP: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=195&products_id=5800

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Heavenly-Desire-Elemental-Sisters-Series-ebook/dp/B00N26EWG2

B&N:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/heavenly-desire-j-l-sheppard/1120325495?ean=2940150739291

Kobo:

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/books/Heavenly-Desire/piDMp0Ld1UGfCsvPPlLOeg?MixID=piDMp0Ld1UGfCsvPPlLOeg&PageNumber=1

ON SALE - $.99 Cents June 26 thru July 9^th!!

About the Author

J.L. Sheppard was born and raised in Miami, Florida where she still lives with her husband and son.

As a child, her greatest aspiration was to become a writer. She read often, kept a journal and wrote countless poems. She attended Florida International University and graduated in 2008 with a Bachelors in Communications. During her senior year, she interned at NBC Miami, WTVJ. Following the internship, she was hired and worked in the News Department for three years.

It wasn’t until 2011 that she set her heart and mind into writing her first completed novel, Demon King’s Desire, which was published in January of 2013.

Besides reading and writing, she enjoys traveling and spending quality time with family and friends.

Other Works:

Demon King’s Desire, Elemental Sisters I: January 2013

Burdened by Desire, Elemental Sisters II: January 2014

Awaiting Fate, Fated Immortals I: March 2015

Contact

www.JLSheppard.com
www.facebook.com/JLSheppardAuthor

https://twitter.com/JL_Sheppard

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6894176.J_L_Sheppard

http://pinterest.com/jlsheppard5/