Sorry for the lack of posts the past two weeks. I’ve been sick in bed, but I’m slowly getting back on my feet. Stay tuned for more book posts in September 2023!
And to hold you over … check out these steamy romances (and a freebie!)
FREE READ 👇
BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Beginning of Forever by Catherine Bybee
BEGINNING OF FOREVER
D’Angelo’s, Book 3
Release Date: June 27, 2023
Gio and Emma.
Reluctant heroine meets a player on a sexual sabbatical.
He wants to get married, she wants nothing to do with that.
The last D’Angelo finds his forever.
BUY LINKS
Amazon | B&N | BAM | Book Depository
EXCERPT
“What are the chances of that?” he asked.
“Three hundred and sixty-five to one.”
He handed her back her license. “No. It’s much greater than that. Two people from the same part of the world, meet in a different part of the world, who both had birthday gifts that put them in the same place at the same time. Some might call that a sign.” He knew she was listening.
“What kind of sign?”
“That we were meant to meet.” He leaned forward, stared into her eyes.
She paused. “You’re suggesting romantically.”
“I didn’t say that . . . but now that you mention it.” He liked that her mind went there right along with his.
“Did you forget about the part where you’re looking for ‘the one’ and I’m not looking at all?”
Gio couldn’t help it. He looked at her lips and wondered briefly how she would taste. “Minor crossroads, bella,” he said.
She shook her head. “You’re one hell of a flirt.”
“Says the woman who asked me if her butt looked good in her pants.”
She giggled. “Touché.”
“It’s okay. I’m a patient man.” He wasn’t, actually . . . but the white lie sounded good to his ears.
“Is that your way of saying you’re going to wear down my defenses?” Emma asked.
“I’m sure as hell going to try.”
Her cheeks lit up, her smile didn’t falter. “Men never talk to me like you do.”
“I’m not like other men.”
“And if I tell you that you’re wasting your time?” she asked.
“It’s my time to waste.”
She blinked several times. “It was the bathing suit, wasn’t it?”
It was his turn to laugh. “A vision that will come up every time I close my eyes.”
“I wasn’t looking for a compliment.”
“Yes, you were. But no, cara, the swimsuit, while a bonus, is not what is prompting me to try.” She intrigued him on every level.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Duly noted.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Catherine is a #1 Wall Street Journal, Amazon, and Indie Reader bestselling author. In addition, her books have also graced The New York Times and USA Today bestsellers lists. In total she has written thirty-nine beloved books that have collectively sold more than 10 million copies and have been translated into more than twenty languages.
Raised in Washington State, Bybee moved to Southern California in the hope of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full time and has penned the Not Quite series, The Weekday Brides series, the Most Likely To series, and the First Wives series. Learn more about Catherine and her books at www.catherinebybee.com
SPOTLIGHT: Daddy’s Kitten by Wanda Violet O #erotica #DaddyDom
Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Daddy Dom BDSM Erotica short story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!
Life doesn’t always happen as we expect. When I found myself in the hands of a sexy Daddy Dom in the form of a powerful billionaire, I wasn’t sure what to expect. What I got was more pleasure and satisfaction than I’d ever known. But my Daddy pushes me. Sometimes further than I ever thought I could go. How I respond is up to me. But the last thing I want is to disappoint the man who’s come to mean everything to me.
Available At:
EXCERPT
Copyright ©2023 Wanda Violet O.
My name is Isabella. Not so long ago, though it feels like a lifetime, I was a college student floating through life with no real idea what I wanted — no ambitions or goals. Twenty years old, in my fourth semester, my major still Undecided, I knew I was going nowhere fast. An only child born to older parents, I had been pampered and coddled all my life. When they were both killed in a car accident, I was left with but no one to take care of me.
Until Daddy. He offered me protection. He offered me a life of luxury. He offered me everything I’d ever dreamed of, including love and acceptance. A life free of worry. But his offer came with a price.
Daddy told me he wanted me to be the little girl and pet to his Daddy Dom, but not until I was ready. As I was to find out, that wasn’t all he wanted of me. Soon, he’d demand so much more. Was I willing to give what he demanded? Could I?
My first week in Daddy’s mansion was like a dream. I was grieving hard and had trouble focusing on what he wanted, but he was patient. At night, he held me while I wept. During the day he spoiled me beyond belief, buying me anything I desired. “Anything to make my little princess smile.”
He bought me clothes — a few cocktail dresses and sexy shoes, but mostly he bought me cute frilly panties, adult onesies with my choice of color and design, tight little shorts with sassy sayings across the ass, and tiny T-shirts that showed off my tiny tits. My nipples are rather prominent, especially when I’m aroused, and being near Daddy always made my pussy cream, so I was always walking around with my nipples sticking out. At first, it was uncomfortable, but Daddy always praised me for wearing what he wanted.
“You’re so beautiful, princess. So fucking beautiful. I’m looking forward to sucking those pouty little tits. When I do, I’ll make you scream.” Daddy has a growly voice when he’s turned on. He never tried to hide his cock from me either. When he was hot for me, his dick would stick out proudly from his expensive slacks. He’d yet to show himself to me completely naked, but I’d felt his cock snuggled against my ass more than once as he held me.
Nighttime was the worst. The first night, I cried myself to sleep only to wake up with Daddy wrapped around me, his cock nestled between my cheeks, but doing nothing but drying my tears and petting me into relaxation. After that, he always had me sleep with him. He moved all my clothes into his room, but kept my toys and anything I didn’t need at night in my room.
After the first week, I was feeling better. Daddy still hadn’t made a move on me, but I knew he wanted to. Apparently he was looking for a signal from me, so I wandered through the enormous walk-in closet to select an appropriate outfit. There were so many to choose from! And all of them were brand new. Chosen specifically for me.
One outfit caught my eye. A black top that said “Daddy’s Little Kitten” written in white, with a black-and-pink plaid skirt, black-and-pink-striped socks and pink combat boots. There was a black satin choker with a pink bow and black thong panties that said “Kitten” on the front over my mound. To top it off, there was a pair of barrettes with black furry kitten ears to fasten on. In my blonde hair, they stood out beautifully. Just the thought of Daddy seeing me like this made me long for his cock in all the appropriate — and inappropriate — places.
About Wanda Violet O
Welcome to Wanda Violet O.’s world of bedtime fantasy, where you’ll find a variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play… she’s got it all. Come take a look for yourself!
SPOTLIGHT: Doc (Salvation’s Bane MC) by Marteeka Karland #mcromance #agegap #suspense @marteekakarland @changelingpress
Doc (Salvation’s Bane MC) by Marteeka Karland
Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
Genres/Themes: Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap
Talia — Helping one of my students out of a bad situation shouldn’t have been a life altering event. But the second Doc meets us in nothing but jeans and motorcycle boots, I know I’ll never look at any other man the same way. I knew Caroline’s father was sexy, but he’s a well-established physician in the community as well as a member of Salvation’s Bane MC. As the daughter of Grim Road MC’s president, I know that’s a line I can’t cross. All I can do is look from afar. Maybe it’s time to break some rules…
Doc — When my daughter Caroline shows up in a beat-up Ford, I’m prepared to have me a little chat with some boy who needs a lesson. Instead, an angel emerges from the driver’s side, and I’m a goner. Of course, life is never that easy. The girl is the daughter of an MC in the area that flies under the radar. Grim Road MC is even more secretive than Salvation’s Bane. Whatever they do must be dangerous, because the next thing I know, her Dad is telling me to make her my ol’ lady. And my wife. Good thing I’ve already decided to do both.
WARNING: Graphic violence, adult situations, and references to human trafficking and domestic abuse that may be triggers for some readers. Happy ending and no cheating, as always.
Get it TODAY at Changeling Press
or Preorder for April 14 from your favorite bookseller
EXCERPT
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland
Fifteen minutes later, Chucky still hadn’t answered her text, and Linnie hadn’t answered mine. Not surprising, since Trix took every phone I gave her and pawned them. Linnie had a burner phone for emergencies, but if she wasn’t in trouble, she might not even have it on.
“I swear to God, Trix, if something has happened to Linnie…”
“She’s fine, Jude,” Trix snapped at me. But her brows were knitted together, and she was calling Chucky over and over. Apparently it was going straight to voicemail.
“Dad!” Linnie called out to me from the parking lot. I hadn’t noticed her right away because the car she got out of wasn’t the car she was supposed to be getting out of. Instead of the sleek red Mercedes I knew Chucky usually drove, she got out of a light blue Taurus. Car had to be at least fifteen years old. Judging by the slight trail of smoke coming from under the hood, the poor thing had had it.
Relief flooded me, but I did my best not to let it show. Instead, I lifted my hand and waved to my daughter, plastering a big welcoming smile on my face. “Hey, sweet Caroline!” There you go, Trix. She wanted me to use Linnie’s given name? I hoped she never got the song out of her head.
Linnie ran around the front of the car to the driver’s side. She appeared to be begging the person driving to get out of the car. I was prepared for some sixteen- or seventeen-year-old punk wanting to date my daughter. It was bound to happen sooner or later, though I’d hoped she’d be at least forty when it did. What I wasn’t prepared for was the slender beauty who stood and allowed Linnie to snag her hand and lead her toward me. Wasn’t expecting this. If this was Linnie’s girlfriend, I was so fucking fucked, because I was sure it was bad form for a man to lust after his daughter’s girlfriend.
The woman was young. Probably barely out of her teens, if that. She had long, jet-black hair that hung down her back in tight spirals, shimmering with bluish-silver highlights in the sun. The breeze blowing off the sea made all that shining silk blow to one side and whip around her body with every sudden gust. Her skin was pale, a sharp contrast to the gleaming ebony hair. She wore pink shorts with large yellow flowers on them and a short-sleeved white T-shirt. The same flower in pink was inlaid with a smaller, identical flower in yellow. Definitely one of Linnie’s friends, romantic or otherwise. Which meant I needed to look the fuck away. Because, no matter how young she looked or dressed, something in me noticed the woman beneath. Even if she was trying to hide that woman.
“Dad! Dad!” Linnie waved as she tried to run with her friend in our direction. The woman with her, however, refused to follow Linnie’s lead willingly. She looked reluctant as hell to come near us. Every now and then, her gaze fell on me, and she’d immediately look away. Kept coming back to me, though. Like she couldn’t decide whether or not to be afraid of me. “I want you to meet my teacher.”
That got my attention. This lovely young woman was most certainly not Janet Wankum. Which made me wonder exactly how old this girl was. If she were Linnie’s teacher wouldn’t she be at least eighteen? No. Not necessarily. This was a private music class. This could be another student further along than Linnie helping out Ms. Wankum. I couldn’t help but let my gaze sweep over the girl again in a more thorough perusal. Thank God for sunglasses. Surprisingly, I recognized her. Should have by the hair, but she always kept it in a bun at the base of her skull. Though I hadn’t known she was a teacher, I knew she was a stellar musician. I remembered seeing her play various instruments from the piano to the guitar and violin. Thought she played the flute too, but I wasn’t sure. What I hadn’t realized at the time was how stunningly lovely she really was.
Yep. She was luscious, her eyes a gleaming silver that seemed to look into a man’s soul. Her body was slender yet filled out to perfection. Her breasts were small, but with her compact body and finely muscled thighs, she gave the appearance of someone athletic. Maybe that of a delicate ballerina. Not a musician.
“This is Talia. Her dad’s in an MC too.”
I’d seen her with the younger kids, helping them with all the patience of a woman twice her age. I’d caught her staring at me more than once, but she never approached me or gave me the indication she was anything other than afraid of me. I also thought I knew her father. Which probably explained her trepidation. If she lived in a biker compound, she’d be wary of another MC member.
“Rocket? From Grim Road?”
Her lips parted in surprise, and her pale gaze met mine briefly before she lowered her eyes submissively. Goddamn if my cock didn’t give a jerk.
“Yes,” she said with a quick nod. “Rocket is my dad. You know him?”
“I do. Good man. Leads his club well.”
“Of course, you know
that outlaw,” Trix spat. “He’s a thug, and that girl is as bad as he is. She’s trying to steal Janet’s students.” Trix lunged for Linnie, trying to pull her away from Talia. My daughter gave her mother an impatient look and shrugged her off.
“Mom, Ms. Janet asked Talia to help. She has more students than she can handle but doesn’t want to drop anyone. Since Talia is the most advanced of any of us, she helps. Ms. Janet has us two days a month and so does Talia.”
“I’m not paying for this little… tramp to sit back and play on her phone while you have another practice session.” Trix nearly spat the word “tramp.” “You can practice at home, Caroline. From now on, you’ll let me know what days you’re supposed to be with Janet, and those are the days you’ll go.”
Caroline looked like her mother had slapped her. “Mom! I can’t believe you said that! Besides, I know Dad’s the one paying for my lessons, because he gives me money for them every week I’m with him.” She stepped away from Beatrix and snagged Talia’s hand again. The older girl tried to twist free, but Linnie was having none of it. “Talia is a wonderful teacher. Even Ms. Janet says so.” Linnie looked at me with pleading eyes. “Daddy, Talia’s not like Mom says.”
“It’s all right, Caroline.” Talia spoke softly, patting Linnie on the shoulder and gently tugging her hand away. “Not everyone understands my dad or our way of life. I’m used to it.”
The girl turned to go, but Caroline was persistent. “Please don’t go yet, Talia. You promised to eat dinner with us. Remember?”
“I said I’d think about it.” She glanced at her watch. It wasn’t a fancy watch like the kind that connects to your phone, but one that looked vintage grandma. Tiny face. Elastic metal band. “I’m sorry, but I really need to go.” To say Talia looked supremely uncomfortable was an understatement. She wouldn’t look at Beatrix at all and only cast furtive glances my way. Mostly she had her head down.
“Daddy?” Linnie gave me a pleading look, like she thought I had the power to keep her friend with us. When my little girl gave me that look, there was no denying her. Good idea or not.
“It’s all right, Talia. Trix was just leaving. You’re more than welcome to join Linnie and me for supper.”
God help me, the girl’s head snapped up, and she looked at me with wide, startled eyes before glancing at Trix again and lowering her gaze. “I’m sorry. But I really can’t. I was supposed to go straight home. I’ll be in trouble as it is.”
“I’ll make things right with your dad, but tell me why you disobeyed him? Did Linnie ask you to bring her here?” I wanted Trix to hear this. Whatever it was. Because, again, I already knew the answer. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.
“No. She didn’t ask. And don’t worry about my dad. I’ll be in trouble, but I know the rules. I’ll tell him what happened and let him be the judge of if I was right or wrong.”
“Lia…” I deliberately shortened her name, making it intimate so she’d look up at me again. It worked, though I thought I might fall to my knees the second her gaze locked with mine. The girl was stunningly lovely and so Goddamned innocent I knew I was going to hell for all the dirty thoughts I’d have about her tonight. “Who asked you to bring Linnie to me at the beach?”
“Mr. Rothschild, sir.”
Fuuuuuuck.
ABOUT MARTEEKA KARLAND
Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.
SPOTLIGHT: Grave Secrets (Lost Souls Society) by Kate Allenton #psychic #thriller #suspense @kateallenton
Everyone has secrets, some deadlier than others. Psychic Ryley St. James’s secrets threaten to kill her, and now both the living and the dead are out for blood.
There’s nothing that Ryley hates worse than her father, but serial killers rank a close second. Alive or dead, they’re all the same—they need to be stopped. When a ghostly serial killer torments a young girl, Ryley must put an end to his reign of terror and figure out a way to shove him into the great beyond.
But when a fellow psychic turns up dead, and another one suddenly goes missing, Ryley suspects that it’s not just the ghostly threats she needs to worry about. There’s also a live predator lurking somewhere in the shadows.
As she gets closer to the truth, she’s forced to confront her own personal demons. Her father’s sinister presence is getting dangerously close to her life, the reapers are demanding answers, and the ghostly serial killer wants to add her to his body count.
It’s not a matter of if she’ll die but who will get credit for killing her first.
Preorder for April 6, 2023 at AMAZON
SNEAK PEEK…
Manhandling spirits was exactly what Ryley had planned for the evening. She wasn’t opposed to playing reaper to scare a ghost out of the little girl’s closet.
“Are you sure you’ve got time for this? You know you don’t have to. I’m sure you’ve got to get to the bar,” Maggie said, standing in the doorway of her daughter’s bedroom.
Maggie was one of the few friends that accepted Ryley for who she was. It helped that they could both see spirits and talk to the dead, but that was where their similarities ended. Ryley’s extended to being able to shove lingering spirits into the light.
“Kent’s working the bar. He won’t care if I’m a little late.”
Ryley gestured to Maggie’s wrist. “I’m digging your new ability to accessorize.”
“Emily Jane made it for me.” Maggie grinned and twisted the pink and purple beaded bracelet around on her arm to show Ryley that Maggie’s name was spelled with white beads in the middle.
“I bet you wore the pasta necklace, too, when she made it in daycare.”
“She’s my daughter. I cherish all of her gifts, and look, she even picked my favorite colors.”
Pink and purple were elegantly splashed around the house, including in Emily Jane’s closet.
“I tried to deal with this spirit by myself, but I can’t get the sucker to come out for me,” Maggie said, leaning against the doorframe.
“It’s fine,” Ryley said.
Maggie glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry it’s so late. I tried calling Rose again and she hasn’t called me back. I left her a message to see if she’d come over and help.”
“The closet creeper is probably scared of you and your sister.” Ryley glanced at Emily Jane sitting on the bed behind her. “I bet you didn’t know your momma is a ghostbuster.”
Emily Jane giggled. “No, she’s not. She’s a waitress at the diner.”
“It’s her secret identity,” Ryley said, holding in her grin and returning her gaze to her friend Maggie. “She hunts ghosts on the weekends when she’s not with you, and by day, she’s making sure we’re fed. She’s the real hero, and one day she’s going to share her very secret coveted apple pie recipe. It’s my favorite.”
“I’ll tell you what; you get rid of this bast…bad ghost, and I’ll steal the recipe for you,” Maggie offered.
Emily Jane covered her hand with her mouth. “Momma, stealing is bad.”
“You’re so right. I’ll just borrow it and return it when I’m done.” Ryley winked.
Emily Jane nodded her head as if that was an okay substitute.
“Okay, go back to the living room before you scare this one away again. We’ve got work to do,” Ryley said.
“You sure you don’t need me to stay?”
“Nope, you can take your ghostbusting mojo back into the kitchen. I’ve got this.”
“Okay.” Maggie kissed her daughter and began to close the door.
“Please don’t close it,” Emily Jane said, the fear evident in her voice.
Emily Jane could see ghosts, and she was just at the age that they scared her.
Something Ryley and Maggie had been working on.
It was hard for a seasoned psychic like Ryley to remember being a little girl and scared in a room where a sliver of hall light shined through the partially opened door. Hand drawings of flowers of every shape and size covered the pink walls, and glow-in-the-dark fluorescent green stars were stuck to the ceiling.
When Ryley was Emily Jane’s age, a menacing dead guy in the closet would have scared her, too. Not so much now as an adult.
Ryley didn’t usually handle haunted cases that didn’t directly involve her home or her life, but this case was special.
Emily Jane was unique. The scared and haunted look in the six-year-old’s eyes was real.
Ryley had seen that same look in the mirror more times than she ever cared to admit.
Emily Jane was scared, and Ryley intended to stop the haunting in its track.
The music box with the dancing ballerina playing across the room should have soothed Emily Jane. The soft non-threatening melody played three times in the first thirty minutes they’d been waiting for the real nightmare to show up.
It might have worked if a living person had started the damn thing and not a ghostly apparition from someone long dead.
The smell of roses from a grandmotherly energy lingered in the air as if trying to soothe Emily Jane’s fears.
Ryley’s nose twitched as she fought a sneeze before squirming on the hardwood floors, trying to get comfortable to no avail. She hadn’t thought to use a pillow.
“You want one of my pillows? I can share.” Emily Jane said from the comfort of her bed.
“You can keep them. I’m good where I am,” Ryley lied.
Honestly, she hadn’t thought she’d be in the room long enough to need one. Ghosts seemed to gravitate toward her no matter what the environment.
That was thirty minutes ago. Now she was pondering the need for a sleeping bag. This floor was going to be hell on her back.
No matter. She wasn’t leaving until she saw more action than the music-box-loving ghost.
“Grandma visit often?” Ryley asked.
“Sometimes. I’m not scared of her. She keeps me company.”
That was good to know. Ryley hadn’t even met her grandparents.
The room turned darker, right before her eyes. She felt the tense vibe of energy hiding in the shadows where evil and monsters lurked. Ryley inhaled the heavy energy. It weighed on her chest, making it difficult to breathe, like ten thick blankets on a hot summer night.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Emily Jane pointed toward the closet door as if there was any question about where the sound originated.
It was about damn time.
Ryley held her fingers to her lips, afraid she might scare the ghosts off.
Emily Jane whimpered, pulling the comforter in front of her, taking a defensive position on the bed surrounded by her stuffed animals.
Those animals were no protection, not even if she used them as projectiles. Ryley knew firsthand.
“He’s here.” Her little voice came out in a whisper.
Ryley shoved off the floor to stand up.
Her muscles ached in protest, but no way was she letting this chance escape.
The doorknob started to jiggle like someone inside the closet was trying unsuccessfully to open it and get out.
Emily Jane ducked beneath the covers, unwilling to look.
“Don’t be scared.” Ryley grabbed her bag of supplies and pulled out the salt container, spreading it in a strong line in front of Emily Jane’s closet door.
“This salt line should keep the ghost in the closet from getting out. And just in case, I’ll sage your room, too, before I leave. Tonight, you’ll sleep good, and I’ll come back tomorrow to do it again.”
“You promise no one will get me?” Emily Jane asked without moving the sheet.
“Come look with me. They can’t hurt you.” Ryley held out her hand.
“No.” Her voice cracked, and her hold on the blanket started to shake.
“One day, you will have to face these guys and stick up for yourself. They’re scared of girls that know how to protect themselves.”
“Did you ever have monsters in your closet?”
She had worse than that. Her monsters were both alive and dead.
The closet handle stilled, and Ryley wrapped her palm around it. It was ice cold to the touch. Whispers from the other side grew louder.
She threw open the door. A gangly man stared back at Ryley.
He grinned, showing her his missing tooth.
Ryley’s breath caught in her throat.
His clothes were of prison blue. The number on his shirt was 52678.
The scent of the sweet little girl was long gone, replaced by cigarette smoke and sweat. An eerie reminder of Ryley’s own childhood ghostly haunting.
The memory slid down her spine like an avalanche.
She swallowed around the lump in her throat, taking a step back, refusing to take her eyes off the closet for fear the ghost would attack.
Ghosts like this always did.
There was a twitch in the ghost’s eye just as every hanger in the closet flew off the hooks and straight in her direction.
Her hands flew up to block her face, just as the wire hangers scratched and drew blood against her bare arms and cheek.
One caught her on the side of the face near her eye, digging in deeper than the rest.
Emily Jane’s scream vibrated off the walls while she ran from the room.
When the projectiles stopped, Ryley peeked beneath her arms to find the ghostly prisoner grinning.
Her breath shuddered as her gaze landed on the salt line. Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You want to play?”
His evil grin grew as he tried to fly out of the closet, reaching for her neck. The salt line kept him away.
Anger replaced the smile.
Ryley bumped against the dresser, knocking over a frame as she reached behind her, making her way around the furniture and out of the room.
“You’ve screwed with the wrong girl. Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming right back to finish you off.” She stepped out, closing the bedroom door behind her.
“What happened?” Maggie was at the end of the hall on her knees, comforting Emily Jane in her embrace.
“Oh my god, you’re bleeding.” Panic laced Maggie’s voice.
Emily Jane’s white, fearful face shined as tears slid down her cheeks. “I can’t go back in there.”
“Yet. You can’t go back in there yet,” Ryley said, stepping around them and heading to the door. “And I wasn’t hurt, just a few scratches.”
“Where are you going? Who was in there?”
“I’m just going out to the car. I’m going to need more supplies to deal with this.”
Maggie was quick to follow behind.
Ryley yanked open the door and popped her trunk, unzipping the bag she only pulled out in the event of emergencies when dealing with darker entities.
She pulled out the container of black salt and the spray bottle of holy water.
Maggie’s eyes widened as Ryley returned with the new items in hand.
“Is that black salt?”
“Yeah, a friendly FBI agent sent me some in the mail after I helped her and her team with a problem in Phoenix. She said to only use it in dire circumstances.” Ryley was still coming to terms with the fact that the FBI employed witches and more on a special team designed to deal with unseen threats.
“And you think this is dire?”
“Just extra precaution.” Ryley touched Maggie’s arm and lowered her voice. “Whoever the hell that is, he’s strong, and he’s not going to go willingly.”
A look of defeat flashed in Maggie’s eyes.
“I’m going to get rid of him from her room tonight, and I’ll come back tomorrow and do the entire house.”
Maggie rubbed her neck. “Emily Jane had to have been so scared.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie,” Ryley said, heading back inside the house.
“We’ll deal with it like we always do.” Maggie ran her hands over her face. “What’s in the spray bottle?”
Ryley grinned. “Holy water.”
“You have a friend that sent you that too?”
“Let’s just say, if you have some demons to expel, I probably wouldn’t go to the catholic church on Hwy 98. I borrowed some of their holy water and replaced it with water from the tap.”
Ryley walked over to a water gun lying among Emily Jane’s pool toys sitting on the washer and took it to the kitchen, filling it up with some holy water from her sprayer while Emily Jane looked on, hopeful.
Ryley handed it to her. “Anything comes near you, you spray it.”
New to the Lost Souls Society series? Get Book 1 for only $0.99 for a limited time!
ABOUT KATE ALLENTON
Kate is a USA Today Bestselling Author who has lived in Florida for most of her entire life. She enjoys a quiet life with her husband, Michael and two kids.
Kate has pulled all-nighters finishing her favorite books and also writing them. She says she’ll sleep when she’s dead or when her muse stops singing off key.
She loves creating worlds full of suspense, secrets, hunky men, kick ass heroines, steamy sex and oh yeah the love of a lifetime. Not to mention an occasional ghost and other supernatural talents thrown into the mix.
NEW RELEASE: Mate to the Mermen by Ashlynn Monroe #Fantasy #PNR @ashlynn_monroe @changelingpress
Mate for the Mermen by Ashlynn Monroe
Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Daisy Daniels never expected her temp job cleaning for three hunks on a private island would lead to romance. She clearly hasn’t been watching enough reality TV. Falling in love with one, let alone all three of the Watersons, would be complicated enough without the burden of protecting their secret. Ocean, Bayou, and River aren’t just celebrity treasure hunters, they’re mermen.
Protecting the secret of her lovers is more challenging than Daisy ever imagined, almost as challenging as learning to cook without the help of the internet. Still, her life with the Triad would be perfect if River’s father, the King of Atlantis, didn’t hate her, and if Kai, the Prince of the Aegeans, wasn’t constantly causing trouble.
When karaoke night reveals Daisy has gift she has a lot more to think about than the laundry. Saving the world was never in the job description. How can she risk using her newfound gift when she could harm the three people she loves most?
Get it NOW at Changeling Press
Excerpt
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Ashlynn Monroe
River swore under his breath. He hadn’t expected his father to show up. The old man’s timing couldn’t have been worse. In the upheaval of the last twenty-four hours, they’d missed an important call about a dive. That job couldn’t have come at a ghastlier time. They needed the footage, but the wreck wasn’t in Aegean-controlled currents. When they’d decided to dive it, they’d had no idea how complicated their lives would become. He turned to Daisy. “This is my father, King Delta, the ruler of Atlantis.” He returned his attention to his father. “Father, this is Daisy. She’s my Triad’s mate.”
Father snorted a rude, almost dismissive, sound. “A human?” Father spoke out loud, but in Atlantean. “Why are you so intent on destroying my faith that you’ll rule? I have given you time to come to your senses, but I’m starting to lose patience.”
River bristled. He replied in English. “I will not allow you to disrespect my mate.”
Daisy put her hand on River’s arm. “It’s okay.”
He could see the compassion in her beautiful brown eyes. “No, it’s not.” River put his arm around Daisy. Ocean and Bayou moved to stand at his side.
King Delta sighed. “I see you and your Triad are in agreement,” he continued in Atlantean, excluding Daisy.
“We are,” River said. “Triad always.”
“The seal must be found.” Father glared at Daisy a moment before turning his attention back to River. “I can’t believe you were so weak as to allow that pathetic excuse for a male to come into your home and take what belongs to our kingdom.” He glanced at Ocean and Bayou. “For all your talk of Triad, they’ve done nothing to help you protect our legacy.” He pinned River with an intense look filled with authority and anger. “River, you and you alone were entrusted with the seal as my way to ensure you remembered your responsibilities. Instead, you have mated with a human and let Prince Kai walk away with a national treasure. What do you have to say for yourself?”
River’s throat tightened. Even as ridiculous as his father looked standing on land in nothing but a cape, he still bore his position with an aura of power. He could still make River feel like nothing with a glance. If he tried to explain that Daisy would have died if he’d gone after the artifact, would his father relent? Probably not. “I’m sorry, Father.”
“Sorry will not get the seal back. Sorry will not change the fact you tied your soul to a frail human. What are you going to do, my son?” Father crossed his arms over his chest.
“We will help River get the seal back,” Ocean assured the king.
Father’s brow creased as he regarded Ocean with disgust. “I was not talking to you, traitor.”
River scowled. “Ocean would give his life for me and for our kingdom. He is not a traitor.”
King Delta turned to Bayou. “And did you want the human too, monster? Couldn’t you have talked sense into your prince? You know how easily the vulnerable are destroyed. You know how weak a human is, and yet you would allow your prince to tie you all to one female’s short life?”
Bayou glared at the king. “She has the strength of a Triad now.”
Few would have had the courage to do the same. River’s throat tightened.
“You are all pathetic!” The king growled, shaking his fist at River. “If the law allowed me to give the throne to your sister, I would. If you do not regain the seal, I’ll have my army drag those criminals you bonded with to the deepest, darkest prison in Atlantis. I’ll make sure they stay alive, but in hellish misery.”
Ocean and Bayou both stiffened. River looked away, unable to meet the anger and shame Father directed at him. “Father, please, don’t say such things. Daisy is human and you might disapprove of my decision to form our Triad but doing that would be beneath you. A king should never seek personal vengeance. You’ve told me that many times.”
His father took a step closer to him. He raised his fist. “You dare –”
Daisy stepped closer to the king. “I don’t know what you’re saying to them but chill out.”
King Delta turned his attention away from River to glare at Daisy. “Chill out?” he parroted in heavily accented English.
“Yes,” she said. “Chill. These are amazing men, and your tone is clear no matter what language you’re speaking. They don’t deserve a lecture. This is their home. If you can’t be respectful, maybe you should leave.”
River, Ocean, and Bayou inhaled sharply in unison. No one had ever dared tell King Delta to leave before now.
“I will not do this chill out! Fool human! You are of weak thoughts. You give yourself to these males, but they are little fish. Weak fish.” King Delta’s chin rose as he narrowed his eyes at Daisy.
“Let me assure you, there’s nothing little about these fish.” Daisy rolled her eyes and a small chuckle escaped. She looked to River, and he could see love in her gaze. “They are strong and brave.”
The king’s guard wore heavy tunics that fell to their knees. River was glad for Daisy’s sake that they were mostly covered as the large men approached her. Bayou was the first to make a protective move toward Daisy. The guards, knowing full well how easily Bayou could destroy their minds with gift, all stopped.
Daisy glared at the king of Atlantis, causing River to catch his breath in fear for her. “Who’s the little fish now? You need all these big guys to protect you from a human woman’s words?”
The king gave a derisive snort, but he held his hand up to stay his guard. In Atlantean he said, “Don’t bother with this unarmed human. She’s no threat to us.” Then he looked at Daisy and returned to speaking English. “Your tongue is sharp, female. But in water you have no protection from my wrath. Stay dry, woman of my son’s Triad, for under the waves my anger is great.” He turned, his cape billowing dramatically, then motioned for his guard to follow. His entourage tripped over themselves in their haste.
River was quiet as he watched them go. Bayou had moved to put his arm around Daisy. When they were gone Daisy turned to look at her Triad. She tilted her head to the side as her brow furrowed. “What? Why are you all so pale?”
Bayou stepped back to scowl at her. He started to pace. “That was fucking stupid. If you see River’s father again, keep your mouth shut.”
Daisy sucked in a sharp breath. Her lips pursed angrily, and her gaze shifted on Bayou with wrath. River put his arm around her, tugging her close. He picked up her long brown braid and tickled her nose with it. Her soft, sensual giggles broke the tension. When she looked up into his face, he had to kiss her. His lips caught hers and his kiss was hungry, needy.
No one else had ever spoken up for him like she had. She’d had no idea just how dangerous her actions were, but that blind need to protect his heart fed his need to be close to her. When he broke the kiss, he put his cheek on the top of her head. “Brave and foolish. You’re perfect for us.”
About the Author
Ashlynn Monroe is a busy working mom. She loves her kids and family. Her greatest joy is creating stories to entertain others, and she hopes they bring a little more romance into the world. She’s been writing since her teens for her own enjoyment but decided in her thirties to share her imagination with readers. Ashlynn enjoys biking, camping, reading, video games, and filling her home and life with love. If she’s not working or chasing children, you can find her daydreaming up her next tale of romance.
Author Website/Blog | Amazon Author Central | Author Facebook | Author Twitter
SPOTLIGHT & GIVEAWAY: Alan (Devoted Guardians MC 3) by Harley Wylde & Jessica Coulter Smith #mcromance #shifters @changelingpress
Jolene – My life wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t have any real complaints — until something went horribly wrong and one of my potions blew up, killing my husband. Raising our son on my own hasn’t been easy. Grief and guilt keep getting in my way. But a certain biker keeps stopping by to lend a helping hand. Is it wrong I wish he’d do more than fix my porch steps?
Alan – I knew Jolene was mine, even when she belonged to someone else. Now that she’s single, I might have a chance. I can’t rush this, though. Not after what she’s been through. Not till I’m sure she’s ready. I’ll take my time, build a friendship with her, then lay all my cards on the table. Only one problem. I didn’t count on traffickers hitting our little town. Everything’s gone sideways. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my new family safe, even if I have to get my hands dirty.
WARNING: This is a Dixie Reapers Shifter MC story and contains bad language, violence, and adult situations. Recommended for adult readers 18+.
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ABOUT HARLEY WYLDE
When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off-the-charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
ABOUT JESSICA COULTER SMITH
Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. Today she’s a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.
SPOTLIGHT: Embracing the Demon by AJ Graham #PNR #DarkFantasy #LGBTQ
Love is always a gamble, but when you bargain with a demon the deck’s stacked in his favor.
Demon’s Bargain (Embracing the Demon 1): Ella is desperate. A vicious dragon stalks her people. The only man strong enough to defeat it is Vaz, the half-demon outcast — banished long ago for his tainted blood. Ella soon learns just how potent a demon’s touch can be.
Living with a Demon (Embracing the Demon 2): When Nate answered a personals ad, he wasn’t looking for romance. But now he knows Pierce is the man for him… even when he finds out Pierce is something more than human.
Playing Games (Embracing the Demon 3): Nate adores his demon lover, Pierce. But lately, Pierce has been distant and preoccupied, and it’s driving Nate crazy. Awakening Pierce’s possessive instincts is a dangerous game to play… but to Nate, the danger just makes it more tempting.
Escaping Darkside (Embracing the Demon 4): After he’s killed in a hit and run accident, Christian wakes up in Darkside — the demon-infested world between life and death. If he can reach door back to Earth, Christian will have a second chance at life. But going back will mean leaving Seth behind forever… and Christian is falling in love with his demon.
Get the ebook from Changeling Press or the paperback from Amazon
EXCERPT
Copyright ©2023 AJ Graham
Excerpt from Escaping Darkside
Christian woke face down on the ground, head throbbing. A smell like garbage and sewer water filled his nose, and hard, gritty pavement pressed against his cheek. He opened his eyes to find himself lying in a narrow alley between two brick buildings, next to a row of overflowing trashcans.
Christian stood, staggered, and leaned against the nearby wall. What had happened? Had he been mugged? A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he swayed. He must have hit his head. Maybe that was why he couldn’t remember anything. When the world finally stopped spinning, he began to walk.
Run-down, brick buildings lined the narrow street, and fragments of broken glass glittered on the pavement. It looked like one of the bad parts of Chicago, but it wasn’t a neighborhood he recognized.
He heard a low, faint moan, like distant wind, and froze. The back of his neck prickled and he slowly turned.
Four red-cloaked figures stood in the street, motionless. Hoods covered their heads and shadow hid their faces. Goose bumps rose on Christian’s flesh. “Um… hello.”
No reply. One figure stretched out an arm and curled a long, bony finger in beckoning.
Christian swallowed, hard. His heart rose into his throat as fear slammed into his gut like a fist. He took a shaky step backward, then turned and ran, feet pounding the pavement, breath coming in frantic gulps. He looked over his shoulder and saw them following — not running, but floating several inches above the road, their red cloaks billowing behind them.
What the hell was going on?
He kept running, but he could sense the things getting closer, closing in on him. An icy hand curled around his arm, the fingers brittle and thin, yet strong as iron. Cold filled his chest, as if that skeletal hand had reached into his body to grip his heart. He looked into the darkness beneath the thing’s hood and saw the glint of eyes. A weird clicking, chattering noise drifted from that darkness.
Christian twisted away. “Let me go!” He yanked his arm free. His skin still burned where the thing had touched him.
He ran, ignoring the throbbing stitch in his side and the burn in his lungs. There was nothing left in his mind but the desperate need to get away. He ran until his legs gave out, and he sank to his hands and knees, gulping air, each breath like nettles scraping his raw lungs. He looked over his shoulder, shaking. The red-cloaked figures were nowhere in sight. Somehow, he’d lost them.
He crawled to the side of the street and hid behind a Dumpster, hugging his knees to his chest. He looked down at his arm, where the thing had grabbed him. Its grip had left ugly, black burn marks on his skin, and the marks writhed like something alive. Just looking at them made him nauseous. He pulled his sleeve over the burn, hiding it, then leaned back against the brick wall and closed his eyes. His muscles felt like overcooked noodles, but somehow, he managed to drag himself to his feet and resume walking.
Ahead, a row of motorcycles stood next to a low, windowless building with black cement walls. Even from a distance, Christian could hear the pulse of a bass-beat. A dance club?
Whatever it was, he needed to get inside. He ran toward the building, flung open the door, and entered. A blast of warm air and sound hit him. After the eerie silence of the street, the sudden din of music and voices was overwhelming. The club was dimly lit, smoky, and packed. Music thumped in his ears. Christian squeezed through the crush of bodies, his gaze darting back and forth. Sweaty shirts surrounded him wherever he turned.
“Ow! Watch where you’re going!”
“Sorry. I –” Christian looked up and his jaw dropped. The thing staring down at him had the body of a weightlifter, but from the neck up, it resembled a cross between a bull and a lion, with curved black horns, a shaggy mane, and sharp fangs. “What are you staring at?” growled a deep, rough voice.
“S-sorry,” Christian stammered and backed away.
Had he stumbled into some sort of costume party? No, that hadn’t been a mask. He’d seen its mouth move.
He stepped on something that felt like a rope and heard a snarl. He looked down to see a long, furry tail pull away, and something with three horns and four eyes glared at him. Christian stumbled backward.
Breathing hard, he made his way through the crowd. He spotted a silver-haired girl in black leather. Relieved to see someone relatively normal-looking, Christian grabbed her arm. She looked at him. Her eyes were huge, almond-shaped, and completely black, without whites or irises. “Excuse me, Miss, I’m sorry, but could you tell me…”
She opened her mouth, revealing inch-long fangs where her canine teeth should have been, and hissed like a cat. He backed off. His head swiveled back and forth. Everywhere he looked was a creature out of a nightmare. There stood a man with a wriggling mass of tentacles where his mouth should have been. Across from him loomed another man with the head of a hawk and four feathery arms.
A hand grabbed his arm and twisted him around. He found himself staring up into a face that was almost human, except it was black — not brown, but licorice black — and topped by a pair of small, spiral horns protruding from crimson hair. The man dragged Christian through the crowd, out the door, into the cool night. He shoved his face into Christian’s, eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here? You’re not from Darkside.”
“I don’t even know how I got here. What is this place?”
His lip curled in an unpleasant expression that was half-grin, half-sneer, revealing tiny, sharp fangs. “You’re from Earth, huh?”
“Earth? You mean we’re not on Earth?”
“Oh boy, are you in for a rude awakening.” Sharp claws dug into the meat of Christian’s arm, making him squirm. “There’s bound to be a fat reward on your head. The Council doesn’t like it when souls slip through their grasp.”
Breathing hard, Christian tried to pry the sausage-thick, dark fingers from his arm. “Let go!”
“Oh no. You’re not getting away so easily.”
ABOUT AJ GRAHAM
AJ Graham has a passion for cold weather, unusual beers, and anything otherworldly. Dragons, demons, shapeshifters and psychics have always populated their imagination, but sometimes the real world can be just as fascinating and mysterious. And no matter the genre, AJ has always loved stories about soulmates connecting. Whether it’s instant, explosive passion or a slow burn, the power of two (or more) minds and bodies coming together to form a greater whole is always a story worth telling. AJ lives in the Chicago suburbs with their husband.
Spotlight: Maid for the Mermen (Mermen 1) by Ashlynn Monroe #PNR #UrbanFantasy @ashlynn_monroe
Couch surfing and temp jobs were a way of life for Daisy Daniels after she aged out of the foster care system. She’s always taken life one day at a time and gone with the flow. What she never expected is that flow would lead her down a raging current of uncertainty about her life and the world she knows.
River, Ocean, and Bayou Waterson need someone to keep their island home neat and tidy, but they have a problem. They can’t trust any old cleaning service. They need to find someone who will be willing to overlook their differences. What they never expected was to find a live-in maid they would all love.
When Daisy discovers the celebrity treasure hunters are really mermen, will she be able to keep her head above water? An ancient prophecy brings danger to their doorstep. Forces she never imagined are conspiring to destroy everything that matters to her. The only thing that can save her is a bond she can’t break. Saving the world definitely wasn’t in the job description.
Available from Changeling Press
EXCERPT
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Ashlynn Monroe
Daisy had slept — more like tossed and turned — at Sally’s the previous night. It felt weird leaving her vehicle behind at the harbor, the rusty hunk of junk being her most valuable possession. She’d been told to bring a bag in case this worked out and she could spend the night settling in. Everything she owned fit into a large suitcase and overnight bag, so she decided to bring it all. After grabbing her pillow, she looked at the small pile on the ground. So little to show for twenty-one years of life. It caused a wave of melancholy to wash over her while locking the car.
She’d looked for the boat called Siren. It didn’t take long. The huge thing was no boat. This was a yacht. “Wow,” she muttered to herself.
“Do you like her?” a male said from behind her.
Daisy jumped, but she didn’t look to see who’d asked. “It’s pretty. I’ve never been on a boat before.”
“Are you Daisy Daniels?”
When she heard her name, she turned. Her mouth went dry. She’d seen an episode of his TV show with Sally here and there, but she’d always been more interested in playing with her phone than the program. She vaguely recognized this guy as one of the hotties Sally drooled over. He wasn’t just TV pretty. This guy was hot. A total hunk. His long black hair, casually tied back in a ponytail, made her a bit envious. He had a black goatee and eyes so brown they could have been black. His skin, tanned, and his upper body, powerful. His arms looked like they belonged to a body builder. She opened her mouth, at a loss for words.
He grinned, as if amused. “You do realize this job is on an island. The only way off and on is by boat. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
Mort’s had already replaced her with another temp. She needed this job. Nodding, Daisy dropped her overnight bag and stuck out her hand. “I’m up for it.”
“River Waterson.” He shook her hand firmly.
Daisy picked up her bag. She couldn’t help wondering if it was actually his name or a stage name for his reality show.
“Let me take something for you,” River offered. He gave her a tight smile.
“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Waterson. It’s not heavy.” Years of having things stolen made Daisy nervous to hand off her belongings.
“Don’t worry, I won’t run off with it.” He held out his hand. “And please, it’s River. Three Mr. Watersons could get a bit confusing.”
Daisy nodded. Wanting to seem cooperative and make a good impression, she reluctantly let him take the handle of her suitcase. He rolled it behind him as they approached the boat.
They walked to the dock and then up a wobbly metal ramp. Daisy took hold of the railing, feeling a little woozy.
“Careful. You’ll need to get those sea legs if we all agree you’re a good fit,” River said.
Worry nibbled at the back of her mind. His words reminded her this wasn’t a sure thing, but an interview. Whatever happened, she’d just have to figure things out. Silently, she cursed Sally’s idea. It wasn’t as if Daisy qualified as maid material. These guys would probably see that. At least Sally would be obligated to let Daisy crash at her place.
“Do you have time left on a lease somewhere?” River asked.
Daisy mentally cursed. She still wasn’t totally sure how to frame her lack of permanent address, so she didn’t sound flighty. And was this guy some kind of mind reader or just super perceptive?
ABOUT ASHLYNN MONROE
Ashlynn Monroe is a busy working mom. She loves her kids and family. Her greatest joy is creating stories to entertain others, and she hopes they bring a little more romance into the world. She’s been writing since her teens for her own enjoyment but decided in her thirties to share her imagination with readers. Ashlynn enjoys biking, camping, reading, video games, and filling her home and life with love. If she’s not working or chasing children, you can find her daydreaming up her next tale of romance.
SPOTLIGHT: Cursed Memory by River Ash #VampireRomance #PNR @RRBookTours1
Welcome to the book tour for Cursed Memory by River Ash. This beautiful novella is part one of a duet. Read on for more info!
Cursed Memory (Cursed Bloodlines #1)
Publication Date: January 17th, 2023
Genre: PNR/ Vampire Romance
Length: 65 pages
I remember the club. The pounding of the beat pulsing in my veins, the way my body moved with the music.
Then — nothing.
My memories are locked away in the dark corners of my mind, replaced by an insatiable hunger nothing can fill.
Until I found him.
I felt his presence before I saw him. My blood calls for this mysterious man whose darkness matches my own. Being near him sets my body on fire, making me ache for every touch… every taste.
It’s as if my soul recognizes him, loosening my trapped memories. Each time a new one breaks free, I wonder if he holds the key to what I’ve lost, what I can’t remember. But everything comes with a price. I’m beginning to fear the cost of remembering all that I’ve done might be more than I can bear. What if the monster of this story… is me?
Available on Amazon
About the Author
River Ash is a writer of paranormal romance novels. Her stories are filled with passion and fantasy and all have HEAs. Her latest book in the Cursed Bloodline world, “Cursed Memory” is out.
Her love for reading began when she was a young girl sneaking into the school library, and grow into adulthood.
When River’s not reading, she is writing passionate fantasy with romance twist. Or else, she can be found solving sudoku puzzles. River loves traveling, is obsessed with energy drinks, and has several relationships with fictional characters.
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