About jessicacoultersmith

Award-winning science fiction & paranormal romance author

Behind the Iron Cross by Nicola Cameron #historical #darkromance #erotic @YesItsNicolaC

In the hedonistic wonderland of Cabaret-era Berlin…

…where money can buy you anything you desire…

…and love comes with a pink rose and a practiced smile…

The year is 1923, the Great War is over, and Berlin has become the manic playground of Europe’s elite. Against a glittering background of nightclubs and hot jazz, a sensual American heiress, a wounded playboy, and a desperate German army officer forge a decadent pact of pleasure. But their nights of uninhibited passion soon lead to a forbidden emotional connection, one that will threaten their future … and their lives.

Excerpt available here.

  • Historical Romance, Erotic Romance, MMF
  • Word Count: 105,000
  • Heat Level 4
  • Published By: Belaurient Press

Where to Buy

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | Smashwords


Excerpt

Kat followed her men, feeling incredibly relaxed and happy. All of her worries about Schoengraff, the wedding, and her future at Tracy Electric felt like they had been trapped behind a thick, clear wall. She knew they were still there, of course, but they didn’t plague her at all.

And seeing both Friedrich and Sam’s trousers bulging from the kissing and canoodling in the hubble-bubble den was doing wonderful things to her own desire. As soon as the car started moving Sam fell on the colonel like a hungry beast, mashing their mouths together and driving his tongue between Friedrich’s lips. His hand snaked down, cupping the German’s undoubtedly aching cock and squeezing it.

It seemed only right to join in. She leaned closer to Friedrich, pressing her breast against his arm as she nibbled and sucked on his earlobe, whispering filthy things into his ear. He gave Sam a last kiss and turned to her, groaning as she undid a button on his shirt and slid her fingers inside to caress the skin there.

Sam moved back in, biting at Friedrich’s neck then soothing the sting with a lick. A fleeting thought crossed Kat’s mind, a wish to have both of her beautiful men naked and in bed with her. All three of them creating a tangle of bodies and limbs, so close that no one could tell where one ended and another began, and to hell if it shocked all of Bridgeport and its stuffy, stodgy society.

At some point the car stopped and the door opened, Horst looming in the opening. The next thing Kat knew they were up in the suite. How, she had no idea, but she was absolutely delighted by it. She led her men into her bedroom, kicking off her shoes as she went.

Laughing, Friedrich fell on Sam, pushing him into the bed and kissing him greedily, opening his mouth to the American’s. “You feel so good,” he said softly, dropping soft kisses over the other man’s chin, cheeks, nose. “Why do you feel so damned good?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad I do,” Sam murmured. “You feel even better, angel.”

“Mmm.” Friedrich writhed, rubbing against Sam’s lean body. “Too many clothes.”

“I can help with that,” Kat said. She started unbuttoning his shirt, laughing as her fingers fumbled on the tiny mother of pearl discs.

Friedrich stared up at her, naked adoration on his face. He lifted a hand, brushing her cheek with a tender finger that sent shivers down her spine. “You’re so beautiful, Kätzchen. So strong, like a goddess.”

Kätzchen—kitten. Tonight, she would accept that once-hated nickname, especially since he finished up by calling her a goddess. “Clothes, colonel. Let’s get you out of them.”

She quickly stripped him, leaving him naked and gorgeous on the fine sheets while Sam fumbled with his own clothes. Friedrich looked down at his magnificent cock, already hard and pearling a drop of pleasure at the tip, and laughed at it. Sam joined in, and Kat followed. Everything felt wonderful.

The men rolled into each other’s arms and started kissing again, hands roaming muscular bodies and caressing, squeezing, stroking as she watched. It was wickedly delicious, the sight of these two beautiful creatures pleasuring each other. She stripped slowly, reveling in the heightened sensation of her skin as it was exposed to the room’s cool air. She dropped her chemise, then her corselet to the carpet, peeling off the fine silk stockings last and draping them around her neck like a stole. They caught on the chain there. Mustn’t snag the stockings. There were things she could do with them, wonderfully dark and heady things.

She unhooked the chain and tossed it and the key onto the bedside table. Crawling onto the bed, she gently pushed Friedrich onto his back and away from Sam, slithering down into his arms. “My turn,” she purred.

His eyes were thin rings of blue around wide black centers, the eyes of a child on Christmas morning who had just seem the mountain of presents awaiting him. “So beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

She stroked his cheek, feeling the fine prickle of his beard. “So are you, my colonel. The most beautiful man, isn’t he, Sam?”

“Oh, yes,” Sam said thickly, kissing his way down Friedrich’s chest. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

She wanted to kiss Friedrich again, taste his mouth, feel his tongue dancing slickly around hers as they shared breath and heat. A faint voice in the back of her head murmured something in a warning tone, something about discipline and too much indulgence. She didn’t care. She wanted this beautiful man, and she was going to have him.

 

Sigil Fire by Erzabet Biship #FF #Lesfic #succubus #vampires #demons #witches #lesbian #paranormal #fantasy #romantic #suspense #strongfemalelead #alphafemale #buffyfans #lostgirl #succubusheat #tattoo #forbiddenink @ErzabetBishop

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Sonia is a succubus with one goal: stay off Hell’s radar. But when succubi start to die, including her sometimes lover, Jeannie, she’s drawn into battle between good and evil and a past that isn’t ready to let her go.

Fae is a blood witch turned vampire, running a tattoo parlor and trading her craft for blood. She notices that something isn’t right on the streets of her city. The denizens of Hell are restless.

With the aid of her nest mate, Perry, and his partner, Charley, she races against time before the next victim falls. The killer has a target in his sights, and Sonia might not live to see the dawn.

**Includes First Christmas: A Sigil Fire Holiday Story**

 

BUY LINKS:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2NKsFWV

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2RTTAT4

Universal: https://books2read.com/SF1UF

 

EXCERPT:

The dream wrapped around Fae like gossamer silk. It was always the same. The woman’s back was to Fae—shapely curves illuminated against the shadows, the stranger’s face just out view. They were in a dark and winding alley, with the back side of row houses and businesses cluttered with dumpsters and badly repaired fences. The area behind the shops looked ramshackle and smelled worse. A combination of rotting garbage and the reek of something far worse.

A sense of urgency pounded through Fae. She needed to find this woman. Needed to find her now.

Dark demonic wings fluttered in the background, causing the mystery woman to flee. Her skirts whipped up, revealing calves that sucked the air from Fae’s lungs.

An aura of silvery wings hung behind the woman, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. The alleyway grew disjointed—a true setting from a nightmare. The red of her hair was only visible for a moment.

“Help me!” the woman’s sultry voice begged, out of breath and shrill with terror.

Fae’s dream self darted behind her. Shadowy faces and writhing figures moved in the periphery of her vision. She stared straight ahead. She had to focus. To find the woman.

“Wait!” She reached out, but only caught the tendrils of mist that filled the void.

The air chilled as Fae streaked through the fog. A fractured scream echoed in the murky dampness. Seeing anything became more difficult. The swampy odor of decay made Fae gag but still she pressed on. Don’t look. Just move.

Fae panicked. “Where are you?” The need to find the woman was overwhelming. There was something important about her. Even if Fae didn’t know what it was—she had to find the stranger. With her heart racing, Fae kept moving.

“Stop!” A terrible scream rang out in the darkness.

Fae’s pulse thrummed in her throat; her fangs clenched in fear. Where was she? Fae’s footsteps rang hollow as she ran, eyes searching, senses reaching out for any sign of the woman. Around her the buildings changed. Cold concrete walls penned her in. There was only one way to go. Forward.

A dim figure loomed in the distance, barely visible against the mists. Large wings unfolded, the odor of sulfur and dark rotting things made her sour stomach flip once more. The sound of tearing clothes and panicked screams met her ears. Shit.

Fae snarled, racing toward the sound of sobbing. Her boots hit the pavement, puddles of water and filth spraying out as she ran.

There was the mystery woman. Long, red hair draped over the concrete, defiled by the refuse on the ground surrounding her.

A streetlight shone bright in the foggy night air, and Fae was finally able to see the woman’s face around the creature that held the woman prisoner in its grip.

Full, red lips parted in shock as the demon’s fingers tightened around her throat. With her wide eyes brilliant and dark against her ivory complexion, it was clear she was dying. Her gaze met Fae’s, a panicked expression of recognition, and as she looked at her attacker, fear.

Fae stepped forward. “Get off her, asshole,” she hissed, taking another step forward.

The being turned its head, empty eyes staring right into her soul.

“Fae.” Its lips tilted up into a satanic grin and he turned, revealing more of the partially nude woman.

Fae startled and took a step back. “How do you know me?” Her hand felt for a blade at her side. Nothing. Dammit!

Fae would have to try and save the mystery woman with only her strength.

Her fingers brushed the oily feathers of the demon’s wings, intent on pulling it away from the girl, but instead she ended up with nothing.

Dark laughter filled the hollow passage, and in a burst of noxious smoke, the being was gone.

Fae spun on her heel trying to see where it had gone, then moved back and knelt at the woman’s side. “Red.”

“Find me,” the woman whispered, her eyes locking onto Fae’s. A delicate smile drifted across her lips as she, too, began to fade into the mist.

“No!” Fae’s heart twisted in her chest. Just when she had found her, the woman was lost yet again. “No!” Despair clogged her throat.

The shadows of the alley loomed dark as the streetlight fell dim.

***

Fae jerked awake. She lay twisted in the sheets. Her breath came in gasps as the dream faded, leaving her cold and alone in her bed. She had seen the stranger’s face. Finally.

Her dog, Jellybean, whined in the darkness and snuggled in closer, her furry black face burrowing deep under the covers.

“Red,” she whispered. “I’ll find you.”

Staring out the window into the moonless night, Fae listened as the wind whipped the trees outside into a frenzy. Something was coming. But so was she.

About the author:

Erzabet Bishop is a two time USA Today award winning and bestselling author of paranormal and erotic romance. She lives in Houston, Texas and when she isn’t writing about sexy shifters or voluptuous heroines she enjoys playing in local bookstores and watching movies with her husband and furry kids.

 

Sign up for her newsletter for more lesfic releases!

https://erzabetwrites.wixsite.com/lesficandlipstick

★★COVER REVEAL★★ Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikers #holidaybook #ChristmasRomance #interracial #CoverReveal @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

 

I’m not the kind of man to give a woman a fairy tale ending.
But for Rin, I’m willing to try.

 

WraithCover

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, Christmas, MC Romance,
New Adult, Silver Fox

Rin — My mom died when I was little, and my dad followed when I was fifteen. My half-brother, the nastiest human being I’ve ever met, convinced people to grant him custody. More likely he bribed people. My life has been hell since then. Every time I try to run, he finds me, tortures me, and makes sure I toe the line. This time will be different. I’m asking the Dixie Reapers for help. If they turn me away, I’m as good as dead, but even that’s preferable to what my half-brother has planned for me next.

I didn’t count on the sexy man with the dark, brooding eyes. The man who defended me only seconds after laying eyes on me. The man who makes me want things I’ve wanted before. I knew better than to sleep with him, knew I wasn’t good enough. When he rejects me, I run. Discovering several weeks later that he left a little part of himself inside of me is even more terrifying than my half-brother finding me.

Wraith — I’m not the settling down type. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. While I was serving overseas, my sister was left for dead in a gutter. I failed her. Failed my parents, who made me promise to protect her before they breathed their last. Now I’m faced with Rin, the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. She needs a protector, and I’ll gladly be that for her. I want her. Want to keep her and make her mine. I’ve fucked my share of women over the years, but I’ve never made love to one. Until her. But I’m no good for her, or anyone else. She thinks she’s not worthy of me, but it’s the other way around. Then she runs and I feel like a piece of my soul has been ripped out. Finding her won’t be easy, but I won’t stop until she’s back in my home, in my bed. And I’ll make sure that every asshole who ever laid a hand on her is buried six feet under or rotting in prison. No one will ever hurt her again.

It never occurred to me that I would be the asshole to hurt her. I stopped believing in Christmas miracles a long time ago, but now I really need one. I need Rin back, and I’ll do anything to make her mine.

Warning: Bondage. Spanking. Anal sex. Over the top, melt your e-reader, make your panties wet sex. If you don’t like those things, this book probably isn’t for you.

 

Coming November 30th to Changeling Press
and December 7th to online retailers

 

 

Tomcat Jones by Willa Okati #NewRelease #GayRomance #LGBT #paperback @changelingpress @willaokati ‏

Shapeshifting, love-shy Tomcat Jones is falling for sweet
sex-bomb wizard MacGowan. Let the fur fly!

 

Tomcat Jones

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Box Set, Contemporary, Gay
Length: 405 pages

 

Tomcat Jones: Shape-shifting tomcat T.J. Jones never believed in love — until he runs into MacGowan, a smoking-hot beach boy with an open heart and a sweet smile.

Buddy Holiday: T.J.’s a man with a plan. He intends to ask his wizard lover MacGowan to officially move in with him and make this the best Festivus ever. He keeps getting distracted by MacGowan’s hot bod. Happy Holidays?

Karma Chameleon: Arden needs Shavey’s help breaking a chameleonic shape-shifting curse. There are a few things big bad bear Shavey would like to ask for — and intends to prove to Arden — in return.

Publisher’s Note: One of Willa’s funniest. Best not eat or drink while reading!

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Also available in paperback

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Willa Okati
Excerpt from Tomcat Jones

“Being ‘in love’” — T.J. made quote fingers — “never changes anything.”

Arden gave the grocery cart a hard shove to get it past a sticky mess of spilled pickle juice on the aisle floor. “The hell it doesn’t. Are you stoned? That reminds me. Corn chips or Pringles?”

“Why limit ourselves? Doritos.” T.J. stretched up to tip the topmost bag on the shelf into their cart. It landed with a crunchy paft!noise between two cans of guacamole and a tub of sour cream. “Mmm. I can feel your arteries hardening as we speak.”

“Mine?” Arden, tall and skinny and towheaded, grabbed a jar of peanuts and read the nutritional information, snickering to himself. “Where are you in all of this coronary failure, standing nobly by with a skull in your hand, saying ‘alas, we hardly knew you’?”

T.J. had to stretch up on tiptoe to manage it but bounced his palm off the back of Arden’s head with a sharp snap of the wrist. “No. For one, you’re misquoting. For another, there’s no way I’m eating any of this crap.”

“Liar. You say you’ll stick to celery, but before we know it, you’ll be in the ranch dip and then the tofu chili wings will go down. It’ll be slaughter, I tell you. Wholesale slaughter of innocent soybeans. Ugh. Speaking of which, ranch dip or blue cheese? If I’m having a heart attack, I’m taking you with me, pal.”

“Yeah, yeah.” T.J. swung the cart around to face due south. “Black bean burgers. That’s what I want.”

“You are a disgrace to testicles everywhere.”

“If it’ll make you happy, I’ll eat two of them on a white bun, add three slices of cheese, and douse the whole thing in ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise.”

“Soy cheese? How many things can they make out of one innocent bean?”

“You’d be surprised. And no, not soy cheese. Processed. American. Orange-colored glue. Mmm-mmm.”

Arden considered that. “Acceptable compromise.”

“Never should have gotten you that word-a-day calendar.”

“Smart-ass.”

T.J. shrugged. “We’re all good at what we’re good at.”

“Very Zen. Which is why, in the whole of God’s green creation, I don’t get a vegetarian cat.”

T.J. stopped the cart to grab Arden by the lapel and yank. “Not in public, jackass!”

“Like anyone would make the connection between one innocent teeny statement and your being a shape-sh –”

Arden.”

His friend had the grace to look embarrassed. Not convincingly, true, but at least he made the effort. “I’ll lower my voice if you tell me how that makes sense.”

T.J. let go of him. Reluctantly. “If you’d ever woken up with feathers stuck between your teeth, you’d understand.”

“Huh.” Arden took control of the cart, mounded high with junk food, and pushed it forward. His forehead furrowed. “So you’re saying you prefer the all-processed taste of Chik’n instead?”

“God, no.” T.J. kicked the cart’s squeaky wheel, stuck on a shred of a coupon. “Anyway, what I was saying was that it’s a Hollywood myth, love changing people. If you even believe in love. A few chemicals swirl around in a guy’s brain. He might lie, but he won’t honestly become a different person.”

“And I was rebutting you. Successfully.”

“Random swearing does not a ‘successful’ comeback make.”

“Usually works for me.” Arden propped his hip on the cart. “And here all I’d said was ‘love makes people stupid.’ Interesting response to my normal state of running off at the mouth. Methinks I tapped a hot spot. Share with the rest of the class.”

T.J. scrunched his hair, the curly blond-brown mess overdue for a cut forever in his eyes, out of his face and sighed. “Do you remember the tabloid we passed a couple of aisles back? You know, the one left open-faced on top of the toilet paper display?”

Arden snorted. Eloquently. “The one that swore Prince William was an alien?”

“That too. It also had a giant red headline: ‘IS YOUR LOVE CHEATING? SIGNS POINT TO YES!’ Look at the divorce rates. Look at how many people break up right before Valentine’s Day or Christmas to avoid buying a gift. They might have thought they were in love, whatever they decide love might be, but they and the rest of us sorry folk are basically liars, cheats, and bastards who’ll do what it takes to get laid and then walk away without regret.”

Arden’s eyebrow climbed skyward. “Bitter. Nice. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning? You actually believe that line of crap?”

“Damn right I do, and I challenge anyone to prove me wrong. Jeez, what did someone spill on this part of the floor?” T.J. tentatively toed the glutinous off-white goop glued to the linoleum beneath his feet. “Before you say it, Arden, I don’t think it’s spunk.”

“Given how much you like the cock, I’ll take your word for it. Which brings me back around to pondering the mystery that is your being a vegetarian c-a-t.”

“Arden…”

“What? I spelled it.”

“If you weren’t my closest friend, I’d be obliged to kill you. You know I have the…” T.J. lowered his voice, “shifting under control now. I haven’t slipped up in almost a year.”

“Uh-huh. So that wasn’t you purring in your sleep in the passenger seat on the way to the store.”

“What? I was not. Was I?”

“I had to fight the urge to hang a bell around your neck and waft some catnip under your nose. It was adorable.”

T.J. looked at him. Silently. At length. Then, he moved on.

“I was kidding, you big dork.” Arden caught up. “Mr. Jontan wanted pizza rolls.” He put his foot on the cart to stop it rolling. “You’re a cat. Yeah, yeah, I know, shhh. You’re neat, clever, sweet when you purr, and you’re a sucker for being skritched behind your ears. Isn’t that love?”

“Nope. Have you ever known a cat to play affectionate with anyone unless they felt like it? Or who didn’t walk away as soon as they were bored? I know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re not harshing my mellow, friend. I’m a hound dog all the way, and I’m a believer.”

“No, you’ll do anything that looks at you sideways and has a pulse. All you do, by existing, is prove my point. And hound dog, my ass. What you really want is a good master with a firm hand and a sack of treats. Admit it.”

Arden grumbled under his breath and looked away, pretending to give too much interest in a display of pudding cups. “Mistress,” he mumbled under his breath. “And no. You’re completely wrong. As usual.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Scoring a point over Arden made for the highlight of T.J.’s day. He pushed hard and sent the cart squealing forward to the end of the junk-food aisle, aiming for a freestanding display of bite-sized powdered doughnuts. “Who’s the king?”

His cart collided with the edge of one approaching at a perpendicular angle and ricocheted into the juice boxes. An oof came from whoever had been manning the assaulted cart.

“Fuck. I am so sorry.” T.J. jogged to the end of the aisle, ready to blame it all on Arden, who’d probably let him get away with it. What else were friends for? “Are you okay?”

The man behind the cart, rubbing his stomach where the cart had hit him, looked up at T.J. through casual tumbles of hair streaked glossy sepia and ebony. His eyes were as gray as summer storms, and they twinkled. “I think I’ll live.”

“Mphurgle,” T.J. said, caught in the spell of the scent of sand and surf, coconut oil and leather, and something spicy that the man carried with him.

The man’s grin broadened. He held out a hand for T.J. to shake, his wrist bedizened with knitted, woven, and small shell bracelets. Small tattoos trailed a line from pulse point to elbow. “MacGowan Smith. Haven’t I seen you around somewhere?”

“T.J. Jones.” We haven’t met. Trust me, I’d remember you.

MacGowan’s palm and fingers were slim and nimble, hands designed by nature for precision work. Was he a surgeon, a pianist, a painter? There was no way for T.J. not to imagine that agile touch skimming down his chest, his legs, over his hips, kneading his ass… and that was as far as that thought needed to go, or he really would get a boner next to the Freeze-Em Popsicles. That kind of thing was hard to explain away to random strangers, smoking hot or not, especially red-hot-chili “hot.”

Lucky for him, MacGowan hadn’t yet looked below T.J.’s neck. He snapped his fingers. “The DuBrewer complex. You live there too, right? I saw you and that guy behind you, upstairs from me, when I got my keys.”

T.J. replayed that in his head to make sure he’d heard MacGowan right. “You’re moving into L-one?” The empty apartment beneath his, ground-floor level, with a front door that opened on the foot of his apartment’s staircase. No way. No one got that lucky. Especially not a mostly vegetarian tomcat-slash-man, or the other way around.

“Me and no one else,” MacGowan agreed sunnily. He had a sweet West Coast accent, Napa Valley maybe. It added both drawl and lilt to his way of speaking. He eyed T.J. His good cheer softened and warmed around the edges. “I’m glad I was right. I’d hope there’s no way I could forget a man like you.”

“A guy like what, huh now?”

“I should be all moved in by tonight,” MacGowan said. He wheeled his cart around. Chicken. Steak. Pork chops. Sausage. A six-pack of Pacific beer. One lonely zucchini in the middle. “Come by and visit, if you want.” He lingered over one last look before he turned to walk away, tipping T.J. a backward wave, shell bracelets clicking quietly. “Anytime you want.”

“Put your eyes back in your head and close your mouth before you start catching flies,” Arden muttered as he joined T.J. “You look like a constipated parrot.”

“Whatever.” T.J. stared after MacGowan. “Arden, what just happened here?”

“I’d say you got owned.” Arden studied MacGowan’s backside. “Huh. Not that I can blame you for drooling. I’d do him.”

“You’re not even gay.”

“My point exactly. So he lives downstairs? How very convenient. Naughty neighbors, I like it.” Arden patted T.J. on the back. “This could be interesting. For me, especially. You know I get off on watching, baby.”

T.J. shoved Arden halfheartedly. “Put a cork in it.” He closed his eyes to better breathe in and appreciate the last traces of MacGowan’s scent.

And purred.

He slapped a hand over his mouth while Arden, ever helpful, chortled. He slapped T.J.’s back. “Told you that you were purring on the drive in. Well, now. Life’s about to get a hell of a lot more interesting around here. Love at first sight is just swishy chemicals, isn’t that what you were saying?”

T.J. glared at him. He had a great insult on the tip of his tongue, but blast his luck, all he came out with was: “Purr.”

Interesting? Yeah. That’d be one way to put it.

 

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Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, and a lifelong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

You can reach Willa at willaokati@gmail.com.

Join Willa on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/willa.okati

Dixie Reapers MC, Vol. 2 is now in Paperback! #paperback #MCromance #bikerromance #NewRelease @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

Sometimes temptation is just too great.
I’m going to claim her. Damn the consequences.

 

Rocky/Bull Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Print 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: MC Romance, Contemporary, New Adult, Silver Fox
Paperback Price: $12.95

 

Rocky (Dixie Reapers MC 3)

Mara: My stepbrother Sebastian wants what he can’t have — me. When I crashed down a mountain the man who pulled me from the wreckage rescued me in every way that counts. Rocky is the biggest, sexiest badass I’ve ever seen. The stubborn man says I’m too young. I’ll just have to prove him wrong.

Rocky: I never expected that past to show up in the form of a sexy-as-fuck woman — a woman I shouldn’t touch. I’ll do anything it takes to keep her safe, even go home to Alabama. My brothers, the Dixie Reapers, will help protect her. I’m just not sure who’s going to protect her from me, because I’m never going to let her go.

Bull (Dixie Reapers MC 4)

Darian: I can tell he wants me, even though he’s fighting himself. But he doesn’t have to… because I’m his. I’ve held onto my virginity all these years, but I want him more than I ever thought I’d want someone. For once, I’m going to get what I want. And I want Bull.

Bull: There’s more than twenty years between us. I wanted to be a better man, to walk away, but I can’t. She begs me so sweetly, and soon I can’t resist anymore. She’s mine. And any fucker who tries to take her from me is going to die a slow and painful death.

 

Get the paperback at Amazon!

 

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Rocky (Dixie Reapers MC 3)
Harley Wylde
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

Mara

My hands clenched the wheel tighter as my small car careened around another curve on the icy mountain road. How the weather could be this bad in early fall, I didn’t know. My heart raced in my chest, and my gaze shot to the rearview mirror. Still alone. If they were following me, I didn’t see them. Even Sebastian’s men wouldn’t be dumb enough to drive these roads as fast as I was taking them, would they? They were New Yorkers, though, and would be used to bad driving conditions. I, however, was a California girl and hadn’t had much experience driving on icy and snow-covered roads.

Something darted across the road, and I reflexively hit the brakes. My car fishtailed, then started to slide. A scream tore from my throat as the small compact crashed through the railing and down the side of the mountain. The crunch of metal made my heart beat faster, and I wondered if I was about to die. Glass exploded into the car as it bounced against the mountainside. My head slammed into the steering wheel more than once, and black dots swam across my vision.

The car landed upside down at the bottom of the craggy cliff. My harsh breathing filled the air as I tried to focus. I was dazed and hung limply from the seat belt, my hands brushing the roof of the car. Blood trickled into my hair and more ran down my arm. I groaned, feeling battered and bruised, but thankful to be alive. I didn’t know how long I hung there… minutes… hours… but the crunch of snow alerted me to another presence. I hoped like hell it wasn’t Sebastian or his men. I’d rather die than see them.

A gruff voice cursed, one I didn’t recognize.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice weaker than usual. “Help. Please, help me.”

For a moment, I wondered if I should have kept quiet. Just because I didn’t recognize the man outside my car, didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt me. I didn’t know everyone in Sebastian’s employ, and there were monsters out in the world other than the man who wanted to claim me. As if I’d ever let him touch me!

Denim-clad legs came into view with massive feet encased in brown boots. The man dropped to one knee, his gloved hand braced in the snow as he peered into what was left of my car. Blue eyes met mine, and my breath stilled. Fine lines fanned from the corners, and his nose looked like it had been broken at some point. But that was all I could see of the man. His face was covered in a beard, and the parts of his hair not covered by a hat spilled around his face, looking as if it hadn’t seen a brush today.

“Don’t move,” he said.

Something about that voice, dark and commanding, sent a chill down my spine. Not in a bad way, though. Something about that voice made me want to obey. The man rose to his feet, and his hands closed around the door of my car, or what was left of it. The metal groaned as he ripped the door off and flung it away. My mouth dropped at the brute strength on display. How strong exactly did you have to be to rip off a car door? I’d never seen anything like it.

His hands, now bare, reached for me. The seat belt wouldn’t release, and he reached into his pocket, withdrawing a knife. He easily sliced through the belt. I fell to the top of the car, and hands far gentler than I’d have expected, pulled me from the wreckage. As the man stood, lifting me as if I were no more than a child, I realized that the hunk of man who had helped me was way taller than my first impression. And much, much broader.

“My bag,” I said softly.

He grunted and eased me down. I wobbled a moment, my hand braced on his wide chest. When I got my footing, he released me long enough to pull my bag from the front seat. It didn’t have much in it, but wherever I was going, I would need the things inside. The man slung the bag over his shoulder before lifting me once more, then we were off, striding through the knee-deep snow. Or rather, he was walking through knee-deep snow.

“I’m Mara,” I said. “Mara O’Malley.”

His gaze flicked down to mine. “Rocky.”

I waited, but no last name was forthcoming, and I wasn’t going to press him for it. He didn’t have to pull me from that car. He could have left me for the wildlife to find, or to freeze to death and not be found until spring when everything thawed out.

Snow began to fall in thick gusts, and soon I couldn’t see in front of my face. The man holding me trudged forward, through the ever-thickening snow, not stopping, not even slowing down. I didn’t know how long we walked, but soon I saw a structure come into view. No. A cabin. There was a wide porch across the front and a large stack of wood near the door. Another pile of wood peeked around the corner of the house with a tarp over the top.

Rocky clomped up the steps and pushed open the front door. The crackle of a fire welcomed us, and I moaned as the warmth from inside the house licked at my skin. I was frozen everywhere. He eased me down onto the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace and pulled a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around my shoulders.

My teeth chattered with such force I thought they might break, and I trembled from head to toe. I watched the mesmerizing flames as Rocky stepped away. I heard him trudging upstairs, only to return a few minutes later with two thick pairs of wool socks, some sweatpants, and a flannel shirt clutched in his massive hands. He crouched in front of me and slowly removed my shoes and socks.

I let out a squeak when he reached for the top of my jeggings and began sliding them down my legs. Too stunned to do much but stare, I didn’t protest as he pulled the blanket from my shoulders and removed my coat and sweater. Even though his gaze didn’t stray anywhere for too long, I felt exposed. No one had ever seen me in my underwear before, and I knew I should say something. Then again, he probably didn’t like women with as much meat on their bones as I had. My thighs were thick and jiggled when I walked, my ass should probably have been assigned its own zip code. And while my breasts were large and sometimes drew male attention, they weren’t big enough to make my rounded stomach look any smaller.

His gaze roamed my body before he rose to his feet and disappeared again, leaving me mostly naked in front of the fire. When he returned, there was a wet rag clutched in one hand and a tube of ointment in the other. Rocky crouched in front of me again, gently wiping the blood from my body. I winced as he applied the ointment to my cuts. There was one on my forehead and another near my collarbone, and my arm was dotted with smaller cuts from the broken glass. He sat back on his heels and studied me again, his gaze caressing every inch of my body. Did he like what he saw?

 

Check out more books by Harley

 

The Leopard Prince by Raisa Greywood #NewRelease #PNR #scifi #shapeshifter #aliens @Raisa_Greywood @changelingpress

I’ve accepted my mate and my leopard.
Can we protect our female from the evil pulling us apart?

 

Leopard Prince (Shifter's Mates 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Futuristic, Paranormal, Scifi, Alien Encounters, Shapeshifters
Length: 107 pages

My brother is dead, executed at the hand of my beautiful and fierce snow leopard mate, Chen Daiyu. But Norkad was a pawn in a bigger game, and chose death over helping me protect my female. I want to resurrect him just to kill him all over again.

The bond between me and my elegant, deadly mate grows stronger every minute, until we know each other better than we know ourselves. She is perfection, body and spirit, and in her feral desires that heat the blood in my veins.

But there are those who would use my Daiyu for their own purposes. And when they take her from me, nothing will stand in the way of getting her back. For her, I would destroy worlds and dance in the ashes.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Raisa Greywood

My leopard lounged in smug contentment in a corner of our shared mind, purring as she washed her paws.

“Gloating is unattractive,” I told her.

So is pouting. Why are you unhappy, Xīngān?

“I want to be left alone with my mate. There are too many demands on our time. Why can we not have a few days to ourselves?”

She laughed, knowing exactly what I wanted. It included a bed, a locked door, no comms, and definitely no clothes.

Be patient, little cub. You will have your whole lifetime to enjoy Dakar’s company once we finish our duties.

Heat blossomed in my belly as I thought of all the things I wanted to do to my delicious mate. Dakar inhaled sharply and glanced at me as our shuttle approached his ship, leaving the muddy ball of Earth behind us. His eyes darkened and he smirked, revealing the points of his canines. The sweet, musky perfume of his arousal filled my lungs and I hid a smirk. I wasn’t the only one who wanted that locked room.

The docking bay opened, its marker lights drawing a path into the belly of the ship. Akari whimpered behind us. I knew the eagle must be frightened, but I had no way of comforting her until we landed and the doors closed behind us. She was probably like most shifters; terrified and uncomfortable with confinement. The sensation must be worse for large birds.

My mother and sister would be able to help her. She would be more comfortable among female shifters. Jinjing’s calm presence would soothe her as well, but I doubted my sister by mating would leave Huang.

The bay doors closed behind us and the atmosphere equalized with a hiss of pressurized air. Dakar unfastened his harness and opened the shuttle doors. A male I didn’t recognize poked his head inside and grinned at Akari, but she hid her face behind the Dalai Lama.

“Welcome back, Commander. If you’ll step out, we’ll get you unloaded.” He disappeared from the door.

“Go ahead, and take the human with you. I’ll sit with Akari for a moment.”

Dakar blinked at me, giving me a questioning glance. “Are you –”

I glanced back at the young eagle. She was shaking badly and her pale skin darkened with the tracery of feathers. “I’m sure! We’re about to have a lot of trouble in here.”

He looked over my shoulder and frowned. “Miss Takamoto, I’m afraid you can’t shift in the shuttle.”

I growled and pushed him out. My leopard hissed and added a hard swat to his backside as he stumbled from the shuttle. Stubborn males! She chuffed out laughter as he stared at us from the deck. I’d have to apologize later.

“Akari, I’m sorry, but my mate is right. You can’t shift in the shuttle, but I know a place that will be big enough for you if you can hold it for a few more minutes.”

She exhaled, then wiped a hand over her face and stood up. “Yes, revered leopard. I’m ready.”

I took her hand and helped her step down from the shuttle. Males bustled everywhere and the noise of conversation and equipment was loud compared to the silence and peace of my home. I could hear Akari’s harsh breaths over the noise and the stench of her fear filled my nose.

She shifted several times as she tried to control her panic, making the males stop their work and stare. Their attention made her distress worse, and I wished I’d thought to clear the deck before taking her out.

Trying to control my irritation, I pushed my leopard’s strength out to encompass her in a bubble of peace. “Pick one shape, Akari. I don’t care what you do, but choose one and I will help you keep it.”

She whimpered one last time before settling on my arm, her feathers fluffed out to make her appear larger. I wished that I could hood her and tie jesses around her feet as the ancient falconers did. Her talons clenched tightly on my arm. The Ximeran fabric prevented them from digging into my flesh, though I knew she’d leave bruises.

She fought me with every step. Her immature body demanded that she protect herself against perceived threats. Her lack of control was worrisome and I knew we’d have to keep her secluded until she grew comfortable. I hurried through the corridors toward the holo, hoping I could keep her under control until we reached that place of safety.

Exhaustion from nearly twenty-four hours without rest made me irritable and easily angered. As the door shut behind us, I shook her from my arm. With a dismayed screech, she took to the air and perched on a branch above my head. I knew I shouldn’t take my aggravation out on her, but I was simply too tired to coddle her further.

“Someone will bring you food shortly, Akari. It will be a male, and I suggest very strongly that you don’t hurt him. You may hide if you wish.” Remembering the shy boy who served as the cook’s steward, I added, “Quite frankly, he’ll be more comfortable if he doesn’t see you. You will be confined here until you can regain control of your eagle.”

She flared her wings, clicking her beak angrily. I held my gaze on her until she settled, and said, “I’m sorry. I know you have troubles and I will speak with you later. Right now, I’m exhausted. My brother is badly injured, and I’ve insulted my mate. I must see them and rest before I can give you the attention you need.”

 

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Raisa is an up-and-coming author of romance with a dark and naughty twist. Her heroes are sometimes flawed but always the alpha in the room, while her heroines are atypical and can take anything those bossy alphas dish out.

The one thing that Raisa most loves is tipping tropes on their ears and making fun of them. She also adores alliteration.

She’s lived all over the world but currently resides in the Midwestern United States with her husband, two irascible cats, and a big bay rescue horse.

Visit Raisa on her website!

Throwback Thursday: Bad Boys Club by M. A. Church #GayRomance #BDSM #DarkDesire @nomoretears00 @changelingpress

Bad Boys Club (Bad Boys' Club 5)

 

Not all romances are sweet and fluffy.

Pounding music and writhing bodies fill the dance floor at Night Moves. A small, very elite group of friends called The Bad Boys Club use the place as their personal hunting grounds. Spoilt, powerful, and totally amoral, they use men without thought for the consequences of their actions. But each of these predators harbors a secret desire, a passion, that drives him.

And it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Three dangerous paranormals on the prowl for a mate stalk the humans. Dark and deadly desires are their calling cards. A demon prince, an ancient vampire, and one of the deadliest werewolves to exist have their sights on The Bad Boys Club and their sensual secrets. Love comes in all forms, even for unscrupulous humans and lethal paranormals.

Publisher’s Note: Bad Boy’s Club contains the previously published novellas Lust and Ice, Into the Darkness, and Haunting the Night.

 

Get it at Changeling Press

 

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Copyright ©2015 M.A. Church
Excerpt from Lust and Ice

Kain, AKA Ice, moved through the Friday night crowd on the dance floor of Night Moves, a trendy upscale bar. For VIPs, the club had a decadent, kinky side. The second level was members only and membership was awarded on the basis of money, power, and prestige. The second level was where other jaded predators like Kain roamed.

The bottom level — the dance floor — was where the fresh meat was kept. After all, every predator needed prey.

Kain avoided the teasing hands that reached for him. No one caught his eye, but the night was young. He nodded to the bouncer guarding the secured entrance to the second level. Of course he wasn’t stopped. He was well known at the club.

Across the way he saw his childhood friends sitting at their usual table and made his way to them. Throwing his leather jacket on the back of his chair, he picked up the drink they had waiting for him. “Sorry I’m late. The old man was on my ass again.”

“What about this time?” Jordan asked.

“Some kid yelling I hit his car on the way home a couple of nights ago. He threatened to call the cops — claimed I left the scene of the accident.” Kain shrugged as his eyes scanned the dance floor. “More like a mercy killing. My damn watch costs more than that heap he was driving, but he carried on like a bitch in heat over it. The old man calmed him down, as always.”

“Meaning your dad had his lawyer pay him off.” Allen rolled his eyes. “What’s someone like that doing over here in our part of town?”

“What else,” Hugh said. “Looking for a way to make easy money. Those kinds of people shouldn’t be allowed over here.”

“I never said it happened on our turf. I was slumming.” Kain turned back to the group with a cold, emotionless grin. Actually, he’d been mindlessly screwing some nameless guy in the hopes of losing himself, if only for a little while. “If you know what I mean.”

“Well, you know what they say. If you lie down with dogs…” Hugh shrugged. “On another note, boys, you owe me five thousand apiece. That sweet little thing, Chris? Yeah, I popped his cherry last night. Told you I would. Only took me two weeks, too, to convince him that we were meant to be.”

“You have the devil’s own luck,” Jordan groaned.

“Actually, that’s Kain. I’m still behind him by two virgins.”

“How do you find these guys?” Allen complained. “I’ve only managed to find two!”

“Oh shut up. You’re one ahead of me.” Jordan rolled his eyes.

“Back on subject, fellows. Did I mention how sweetly he cried?” Hugh smirked. “And get this… he’s thinks I’m going to keep calling him now, be his boyfriend. Seems like he was waiting for that special someone, the love of his life.”

“Yeah, right. What a loser.” Allen sneered. “How often did you have to tell him you loved him?”

“Too many times.” Hugh’s disgust was clear as he raised his glass and winked. “Like I’d be caught dead outside of a bedroom with someone like that.”

“Goes without saying.” Kain sprawled in his chair. “So, how’s it looking down there? Fill me in.”

“Jordan and I have a bet going about who’s going to do that redhead on the dance floor first,” Allen said. “He’s the one with the green shirt, there in the middle.”

“Why not do him together?” Hugh asked.

“We plan to.” Allen winked. “I said I’d do him first. We’ll tag team him later. Been awhile since Jordan and I got to do a double penetration.”

Kain’s hearty laugh boomed out, drawing attention from those around them. “I almost feel sorry for the guy.” Kain glanced around the group; several pairs of disbelieving eyes stared back at him. “Okay, no I don’t.”

“The legendary Ice feels sorry?” Hugh’s lips twisted. “That’ll be a cold day in hell.”

“Hell wouldn’t have me.”

“Oh yeah, it would. Personally, I think we’d end up ruling hell.” Allen smirked at Kain.

“Ah, someone has that position, remember?” Jordan shrugged.

“We could be kings, or lords.”

“There’s supposed to be seven princes of hell. One for each deadly sin.” Hugh rolled his eyes as his friends stared at him. “What?”

 

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M.A. Church lives in the southern United States and spent many years in the elementary education sector. She is married to her high school sweetheart and they have two children. Her hobbies are gardening, walking, attending flea markets, watching professional football, racing, and spending time with her family on the lake.

But her most beloved hobby is reading. From an early age, she can remember hunting for books at the library. Later nonhuman and science fiction genres captured her attention and drew her into the worlds the authors had created. But always at the back of her mind was the thought that one day, when the kids were older and she had more time, she would write a book.

By sheer chance she stumbled across a gay male romance story on the web and was hooked. A new world opened up and she fell in love. Thus the journey started. When not writing or researching, she enjoys reading the latest erotic and mainstream romance novels.

Blog http://machurch00.blogspot.com
Facebook author page http://www.facebook.com/ma.church3
Twitter: @nomoretears00 Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5141393.M_A_Church