Intergalactic Brides Vol. 2 by Jessica Coulter Smith #scifi #aliens #RomanceBooks #ebook #paperback @changelingpress

Intergalactic Brides Vol. 2 (Intergalactic Brides 20)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox
Genres/Themes: Box Set, Futuristics, Sci-Fi, Alien Encounters, Alternate Universe,
Silver Fox, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance

 

Three aliens intent on finding their mates. Three human women willing to risk everything for a chance at happiness…

Charlotte and the Alien Ambassador: When her father demands she take her sister’s place in a bride exchange on another world, Charlotte decides to embrace her future. She knows it’s her last chance to find happiness, and she’ll do anything to grab it with both hands. The ethereal woman who steps off the shuttle holds Borgoz spellbound. She’s everything he’s ever wanted, and the one thing he can never have.

Hazel and the Alien Biker: Kicked off his home world after losing his mate, Reyvor has made a place for himself on Earth, spending his nights cruising the streets on his Harley. But a commotion outside his motel room just may turn out to be his saving grace. Hazel is hesitant to trust anyone again, but Reyvor is determined to make her his. What’s an alien to do when all he wants is a loving family to call his own? He’ll break down her defenses one by one, until she melts against him and begs for his kiss. Can he claim the feisty Hazel and her three little girls without completely losing his heart?

Jacie and the Alien Bodyguard: Stupid. Careless. Jacie has called herself ten times a fool. Now she’s pregnant and alone. When a tall, sexy hunk of alien male meets her at the shuttle station on his world, Jacie feels the stirrings of desire — even though that’s what got her into this mess in the first place. But there’s something about Barimere that’s different, and she doesn’t mean the scars on his face.

An alien warrior intent on fighting his attraction. A human female determined to bring him to his knees. What could possibly go wrong?

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Jessica Coulter Smith
Excerpt from Charlotte and the Alien Ambassador

“Are you Charlotte Mayweather?” the male asked.

She nodded. “Why can I understand you and not anyone else?”

“I, along with quite a few other males on this planet, have learned your Earth English. However, to make sure you can understand everyone around you, I’m going to implant you with a translator. I’ll also implant you with a sensor that will allow you to make purchases on our world. When you select a mate, he will pay for whatever you buy between now and then. Once your mating is approved, you’ll be added to his accounts everywhere in Terran Prime.”

“Thank you for explaining how everything works. I’ve been a little lost.”

He frowned. “May I ask a personal question?”

She nodded.

“Your voice is different from anyone else I’ve encountered from Earth. Are you from a special region?”

“I’m deaf.” She pointed to her hearing aids. “These allow me to hear a little, but it’s like listening to someone talk under water. I don’t always catch everything. And, while it allows me to hear a little, I can’t always tell how loud I’m speaking.”

“Understood. Perhaps, after you’ve found a mate, they will permit me to run some tests and see if we can restore your hearing.”

“I was born deaf. My mother had preeclampsia when she was pregnant with me, and I was born early. Some of the bones inside my ear didn’t form correctly. A doctor tried to explain it to me once, but I didn’t understand the terms he used.”

The doctor nodded. “Well, we’ll take care of those implants today and if you decide you wish me to run tests later, then that’s what we’ll do.”

She meekly followed the doctor into a back room and stretched out on the table at his direction. He explained the procedure to her before giving her some gas to put her to sleep. When next she woke, her wrist and the back of her ear hurt a little, but otherwise she couldn’t tell she’d had anything done.

Charlotte found the other male pacing in the lobby.

“Can you understand me now?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I have a translator, so I understood everything you told the doctor. You’re not Charity Mayweather, are you?”

“Charity is my younger sister.”

The Terran’s face flushed with anger. “Your father lied to me. He said he was sending Charity here to find a husband, not her deaf older sister.”

She felt shame burn through her as she realized she was about to be cast aside again. Charlotte knew she should be accustomed to it by now but it still hurt, knowing she wasn’t good enough for yet one more man.

“If you send me back to Earth, I’ll be homeless,” she said. “My father said if I didn’t come here and find a husband, I would be thrown out of the house and all my accounts would be closed.”

The Terran muttered something, raked a hand through his waist-length hair, and then faced her with his hands on his hips. “I’m Chief Councilor Borgoz and you’ll be staying in my home. You may not be the sister I was expecting, but I’m not about to leave you stranded here. Especially with your condition.”

“I’m deaf, not stupid.”

The harshness of his face relaxed into an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were stupid, but there are many dangers on a new world for anyone, much less someone who can’t hear. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted or as if you were a burden.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I’ve felt that way.”

His gaze narrowed. “Your father made you feel unwanted?”

“And my sister. Be thankful she didn’t come in my place. She’s a spoiled, selfish brat who always has to get her way or she screams and throws things.” It felt good to be honest about her sister without fear of being punished. Everyone always treated Charity as if she was a princess, and Charlotte was tired of it.

“Right. Well, let’s get you settled. I’m sure you’ll want more things than what you brought with you. Once you’ve had a chance to put your belongings away, I’ll take you shopping for anything you had to leave behind.”

“I don’t need much. As long as you have something to wash with, I’ll be fine. I have enough clothes to last a week before I’ll have to do laundry.”

“An Earth week is seven days, correct?”

She nodded.

“A Terran week is eleven days. You’ll need more clothes. Things are different here on Terran. We don’t have machines in our homes to launder our clothes, and the shop in town that handles it is usually busy. You’ll want as many outfits as possible.”

He crooked his elbow and she curled her hand around it, watching as he hefted her bag as easily if it contained no more than feathers.

Charlotte tried to take in the scenery as they walked through Terran Prime. Borgoz explained that, while he had a vehicle to maneuver through the city, he thought she might like the walk to stretch her legs after such a long shuttle ride.

When they reached his home, her jaw dropped as she stared at the massive structure. She’d lived in a mansion all her life, but Borgoz’s home surpassed that of her father’s by a fourth floor and probably another twenty feet in width. She tried not to stumble over her feet as he led her up the stairs and into his home. Charlotte looked everywhere, not wanting to miss a thing.

Borgoz handed her bag to another male, and they followed him up the stairs to her room. It was twice the size of her bedroom at home with doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking a garden. It was gorgeous, and for the first time in her life she felt lucky. She was glad her father had sent her here, and had hope that her future would be bright and wonderful.

She turned from the fantastic view to find Borgoz studying her. Charlotte couldn’t guess his age. There were no wrinkles on his face, but the silver in his hair told her he was probably forty at the least. But then, she didn’t know how Terrans aged. For all she knew, he was pushing seventy like the vile old man her father had tried to force her to marry.

Borgoz was a handsome man. His purple eyes were dark like a pansy and quite beautiful. Those eyes were taking her in, and she wondered if he found her lacking like everyone else in her life. If she’d known she was coming to a palace, she may have dressed a little nicer for her trip. She tugged on the hem of her tank and wondered if she should change clothes before going shopping with him. He was being kind enough to give her a place to stay, the least she could do was not embarrass him in front of his people.

“I’ll come back in thirty of your Earth minutes to see if you’ve finished unpacking. If you’re hungry, we can stop for a bite to eat while we’re out and then go shopping. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need. If you can’t find me, Helio will help you,” he said, indicating the other male.

“Thank you.”

Borgoz gave her a regal nod and then he exited with his servant.

Left alone, she quickly unpacked and changed into a pretty sundress so she would be appropriately attired for an outing with someone so important, then she spent the rest of her time admiring the view. Charlotte hoped she’d get a chance to walk through that garden and admire the petals of the vibrant flowers close up. This world was amazing and full of new and wonderful things. She couldn’t wait to explore as much of it as she was allowed.

 

More from Jessica Coulter Smith…

 

Genesis by Gale Stanley #LGBT #PNR #shifters #NewRelease @changelingpress @GaleStanley

Genesis (Wolf Pack 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Genres/Themes: BDSM, Futuristic, Paranormal, Gay, Multiple Partners,
New Adult, Werewolves

 

In the Agéli Lýkon Wolf Pack, there are two types of men, Alpha and omega. Since the knotting ceremony, the submissive Bleu has had no problem adjusting to his position as Grey’s human omega. Their love is strong and their bond is unbreakable. But when they reach out to help another Alpha, their relationship is put to the test.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Gale Stanley

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Friday afternoon, and the wolves were ready to party. They never needed an excuse, but Lykos Stavros, the chapter president of Agéli Lýkon, had planned this celebration for a special reason. The new Alpha pledges had knotted with their human omegas and were now part of the Brotherhood. The omegas were accepted as well, although there were restrictions. They weren’t permitted to live in the fraternity house with their Alphas. Stavros had decided the omegas would be more useful as spies if they lived in the dorms.

The number of Alphas had increased quite a bit since Bleu became Grey’s omega two years ago when they were freshmen. Twenty-two Alphas now resided in the frat house. Stavros considered twenty-two a magic number because two symbolized dualities. The dual nature of the Alphas, wolf and man, was at the heart of the Brotherhood.

The increasing numbers elated Stavros, who didn’t want to reveal their existence until he had gathered many more of his kind. He feared human bigotry and prejudice would wipe out the small band of brothers. Bleu thought he was probably right.

Bleu’s last class had finished at three and he’d come straight to the frat house to help get things ready. The party room had wood paneling that made it look old and sophisticated, but it had everything the brothers needed for a good time. Leather couches provided seating. A wooden bar and a beer pong table filled most of the far wall. Another wall had shelves for a music system and a big screen TV.

Bleu checked the bar to make sure it was stocked. Everything looked ready and the guys were trickling in as their classes ended. Bleu and Grey filled Solo cups with Wolf Spirit Vodka and raised their glasses to a fun night.

At midnight, things got boisterous. Couples were doing tequila shots while others were performing some seriously suggestive dance moves. Many had removed their shirts and pants and were gyrating in their underwear. It looked more like foreplay than dancing. Or the start of a spontaneous orgy. Bleu’s juices were starting to simmer. His tall, dark, handsome Alpha looked especially sexy tonight. A slow number started playing and he was ready to take his footwork to the next level, but Grey begged off.

“I’m tired of dancing. I think I’ll get another drink and sit this one out.”

“Please, Grey. I like this song.”

“How about I find you another partner?” Grey waved over Aleksys Kosta, who’d been his big brother when he was a pledge. “Hey, Alek. Wanna dance with my omega while I get a drink?”

“Love to. Danny is already shit-faced and stumbling over his own feet.” Alek pushed his omega away and approached Bleu. Danny stared after him, a sullen expression on his face.

“Anything wrong?” Grey asked.

Alek grimaced. “Same old same old. Why can’t he live with me at the frat house? I don’t see him enough. I look at other men. It’s all bullshit.”

Grey smiled. “Do you remind him who’s boss?”

“Of course, but his answer to everything is alcohol.”

“Maybe I’ll keep him company at the bar.” Grey walked off.

Bleu stood silent and studied Alek. When Grey pledged, Alek had been Grey’s main source of friendship and support, and they’d been close friends ever since. They’d been lovers, too, but all that stopped when they bonded with their omegas. Bleu had a healthy sexual appetite and he fulfilled Grey’s desires eagerly. They didn’t need anyone else.

But Alek was incredibly attractive, with his thick brown hair and chiseled features, and behind that all-American frat boy look was a sexy, well-hung dominant. Bleu licked his lips. He wanted to woof at the moon. Then he remembered Grey and Danny, and he felt guilty.

Bleu didn’t know the other omega very well. They shared one class and Bleu had tried to befriend Danny, but it hadn’t gone well. Whenever Bleu tried to start a conversation, Danny replied with one-word answers. Bleu didn’t take offense. Danny treated everyone that way. Everyone but Alek.

Alek took Bleu by the hand. “You’re thinking too much. Let’s dance.”

He led Bleu to the center of the room where space had been cleared for dancing. Alek took Bleu in his arms and guided him around the floor. He was a seductive dancer, grinding his body against Bleu’s in time to the slow tempo. The press of Alek’s rock-hard dick against his thigh sent shivers up Bleu’s spine.

Alek nuzzled Bleu’s blond hair and his warm breath fanned Bleu’s ear. “You’re a good dancer.”

“You’re easy to follow.”

Alek pressed his palm to the small of Bleu’s back and pulled him closer. He ground his hips against Bleu’s. Heat curled in Bleu’s belly and he returned the movement. He felt Alek’s hand slip past the waistband of his boxer briefs, but he didn’t protest. Alek squeezed his cheeks and pulled Bleu closer still. Bleu felt giddy. Was it the alcohol, or the man he was dancing with?

Alek’s fingers traced Bleu’s crease as he kissed and sucked on Bleu’s neck. Bleu whimpered, suddenly afraid that he might come right there on the dance floor. He looked up at Alek, wide-eyed.

“You’re irresistible,” Alek whispered. “The way you look at me with those blue eyes…”

Bleu scanned the room for Grey. His Alpha had an arm around Danny, but he met Bleu’s eyes and smiled. Bleu settled back into Alek’s embrace and their bodies moved in unison, their cocks grinding together. Then Alek slid a finger inside Bleu’s hole.

Bleu uttered a high-pitched mewl and wiggled his hips.

“Oh, you are delicious,” Alek murmured.

 

More from Gale Stanley…

 

Their Perfect Sub by Megan Slayer #BDSM #NewRelease #DarkDesire #MultiplePartners #RomanceBooks @MeganSlayer @changelingpress

Their Perfect Sub (The Jordan Brothers 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, 2nd Chance Romance,
Bisexual and More, Multiple Partners, Dark Desire

 

Clint Jordan has been the oddball in his family. He’s the oldest, but has no desire to run the family business. He’s in love with Ronan, despite his mother’s determination to find him a wife. Plus, he wants to share a sub with Ronan. Is there someone out there who can fit their needs and bring them together?

Zari’s running from a past that won’t go away. She needs stability and two men who will cherish her… while giving her a good paddling. When she meets Ronan and Clint, she’s convinced they’re meant to own her. Will these two committed men have space in their life for her?

Ronan got more than he bargained for when he became Clint’s lover. He’s not only with Clint, but he’s under the rule of the Jordan family. Once Zari enters the equation, he’s forced to admit his true feelings for Clint and accept what he needs from Zari. But things aren’t always the way they seem. Zari comes with baggage, and Clint’s determined to make the triad work. Will Ronan accept their terms or walk away?

 

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EXCERPT:

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

“I hate waiting.” Clint Jordan sat on the edge of the sofa and debated how he wanted to present himself. He hated arguments with Ronan more than he detested waiting. A piece of his heart had ripped out when Ronan left. He wished they hadn’t shouted at each other. Ronan was his other half. Going to the office sucked without Ronan across the hallway. Moreover, he missed his sub.

Clint couldn’t sit still. He forced himself not to check the clock for the hundredth time. He didn’t regret taking part in the collaring ceremony with his brother Dashiell and Dash’s wife, Christy. The ceremony had been beautiful and sexy, and she’d only blown him while Dash fucked her.

But Clint hadn’t told Ronan about the ceremony.

Keeping quiet wasn’t smart, but not awful enough for him and Ronan to split. Christy would’ve been overwhelmed by having three cocks, and Dash wouldn’t have allowed Ronan to join in.

The door opened and Clint sat up straighter. He’d devoted the last two years to Ronan and needed him more than ever.

Ronan stepped into the living room. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He wanted to move, but damn it, he couldn’t shake the tension. “Sit down.”

Only Ronan could have him this off-balance.

Ronan sat opposite him and said nothing.

Clint wasn’t sure where to start. “Do you know why you weren’t included in the ceremony?” He owed Ronan a better explanation than none.

“Got right to the point, didn’t you?” Ronan sighed. He now had dark circles under his brown eyes. He looked tired. His black hair needed to be brushed and he should have run an iron over his shirt. He hadn’t shaved in at least two days, and the dusting of hairs on his cheeks and chin added to his appeal. He stole Clint’s breath.

“We need to sort this out,” Clint said. “This is the only way.” No one could ever say he wasn’t blunt.

“We do.” Ronan leaned back in his seat. “I hate fighting.” The collar of his shirt hid the silver chain he always wore — the collar Clint had given him.

“Likewise.” Clint exhaled and swept his gaze over Ronan again. He wanted to kiss his lover and prove everything was all right. He also wanted to know Ronan hadn’t removed the collar. “I hate you’re upset and hate I caused it.”

The muscle in Ronan’s jaw tightened. “I know.”

“The reason they didn’t include you and I didn’t invite you along was Christy. Think about it. Doing three guys is a lot for anyone to take. Sure, some can, and others would love it, but after what she’s been through — the shit at the club, the guys taking advantage and her worthless so-called family — I didn’t have the heart to push. Until Dash rescued her, she’d been treated like garbage. If we’d all been there, she’d have thought Dash was no different. That’s not fair.”

“So? It’s expected at the club.” Ronan folded his arms. “We’ve watched tests of the subs where they’re expected to do more than that.”

Clint knew this game. Ronan wanted to make him hurt, too. “Hold up. I’ve never passed you around, and when I collared you, it was just us,” Clint murmured.

“Everyone does the ceremony in their own fashion. You never had to prove anything to me.”

“I know.”

“Dash knew what he was doing, and he’d approved everything except the blowjob with Christy,” Clint said. “I was the witness.”

“You joined in.” Ronan’s eyes blazed.

“Because I was asked.”

“And you couldn’t have mentioned it to me? Oh, hey, my brother wants me to do his old lady because he wants to collar her. Do you mind?” Ronan growled. “I might have minded.”

“You said no chicks.” Clint leaned on his elbows. “Dash wanted you to be at the wedding. He’d planned on you being one of his attendants. It killed me to go alone.”

“Yet you flew right off to Vegas and left me here.” Ronan shook his head. “I would’ve stayed in the damn hotel room.”

“I not only invited you, but I expected you to come along. You decided you were too… I believe you said sick, to come.” Clint lowered his tone, despite his overwhelming desire to scream. Shouting never solved anything. “My brother asked for me to join in. It wasn’t a slight to you. I honored his wishes. If he’d have said he wanted me to do more than witness, I might have hesitated, and I would’ve told you.”

Ronan rubbed his forehead, then flicked his hair out of his eyes. “I know.”

Clint paused. Ronan had confused him. “Is that why you’re angry? Tell me the whole truth.”

 

More from Megan Slayer…

 

Leandros by Michelle Hasker #futuristic #NewRelease #SecondEdition #PNR #scifi #aliens #shifters @changelingpress @Michelle_Hasker

Leandros (Leandros 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Sahara Kelly
Genres/Themes: Box Set, Futuristic, Sci-fi, Paranormal, Alien Encounter, Shapeshifters

 

Cade knows Sairah is his mate, but she’s been raised on Earth. What he doesn’t know is how to convince her she’s not only an alien, but a lion shifter, as well.

When Matt’s best friend and boss finds a mate, it means a lot more lonely nights for him — until he meets Stacey and realizes his mate has been right under his nose the whole time. But a man with a past like his and no future doesn’t deserve a woman to love him. If only the sexy, stubborn woman would take no for an answer.

Jacob finds himself on trial for a crime he hasn’t committed… yet. Even worse? With his mate under suspicion, only one thing can save them now. The whole truth.

Publisher’s Note: The Leandros Collection contains the previously released novellas Sairah’s Salvation, Matthew’s Redemption, and Dana’s Release.

 

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pre-order at retailers for April 26th

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Michelle Hasker
Excerpt from Sairah’s Salvation

Sairah moaned and rolled on her back as hands slid over her. Questing hands that had explored every inch of her body for the past few months. Hands that brought her to the pinnacle of desire and thrust her into orgasms so intense she woke entangled in drenched sheets.

But she wasn’t asleep. Not yet. She’d just closed her eyes when the sweet scent of magnolias drifted into her bedroom. How is this possible? Can he be real? Is tonight the night he fulfills my fantasy? God, I wish!

Opening her eyes was out of the question. He might vanish and she’d be left alone. Again.

Sairah gasped as nimble fingers pinched her nipples until they hardened. Tingles raced through her body as her lover worked his magic. He brought her to the edge, then changed tactics and drew her back to that edge time and again, not letting her crest. All coherent thought fled.

With a moan, she arched into his touch, praying this time she’d find release. Her mouth opened wordlessly as shivers raced up her spine. Sairah fisted her hands in her sheets and turned her face, burying it against her pillow. The urge to demand he fuck her was almost overwhelming.

The sound of a baby crying pierced the air, bringing her out of the fantasy with such force she fought to catch her breath. Her pussy ached, and her nipples were swollen buds.

Sairah sat up with a gasp and looked around. All trace of her lover had vanished, but the scent of the blossoms remained. Had he really been here?

Another wail brought her out of bed before she could contemplate more about the realistic dream. Sairah tugged on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt as fast as she could. She pulled on her sneakers, grabbed a flashlight, and ran outside.

What is a child doing outside at this time of night? And behind my house no less!

The sound brought back memories she’d rather have left buried. A neighbor’s child had been four when she’d wandered out of her backyard and into the forest. By the time they found her body she’d been missing for days. If she could prevent something terrible from happening to someone else’s child, she would. No matter the cost.

Sairah dodged a thorny branch and delved deeper into the forest. The warning her neighbors gave her last week when she moved in raced through her mind. Never go into the woods. Especially not alone, and never at night. Evil lurks in there.

Sairah heard the cry again and shivered, suddenly cold. Worry and fear urged her deeper into the trees. She squeezed between two oak trees, trying to follow the narrow path that led from her backyard into the dark woods. At least the full moon gave her some light to see by, but the trees and bushes hid rocks and roots that slowed her progress. It was no wonder people disappeared in here. They probably wandered in circles until they starved to death.

She didn’t know what evil they spoke of, but if there was even a slight chance that a child could be in danger, she would risk it. Her life would be a small price to pay to spare a family from the agony of losing their baby. She didn’t have much to lose anyway.

The sweet scent of magnolias tickled her nose, reminding her of her dream man. The tall, blond man who set her flesh on fire and ignited desires that terrified her in their intensity. In her dreams, a group of strangers surrounded them as he cupped the side of her face and pressed his naked body against hers until she woke quivering with need.

Suddenly everything grew quiet. Sairah snapped out of her daydream with enough force to make her stumble. While she crouched and rubbed her stinging palms on her jeans-clad knees, she listened to the eerie silence. Usually a predator caused a silence such as this. Maybe the stories of wild cats were true. Cats didn’t frighten her, but dogs did, and there were also rumors of wolves in these parts. Sairah would rather take her chance with a cat any day.

A twig snapped on her left. She turned slowly, hoping it was just a squirrel. On the ground a few feet away she noticed something small and unmoving. It lay in the shadows, making it difficult to identify. She shone the flashlight at the area but couldn’t make anything out.

As Sairah stepped closer to it, the scent of blood and feces grew stronger until it became unbearable. She pinched her nose to shut out the offensive odor. Sairah nudged the small furry mound with her foot. The head rolled to the side so that lifeless black eyes stared at her from the familiar face of a raccoon.

Sairah released her nose and covered her mouth to stifle the scream that rose in her throat as she backed away from the dead animal. What had done this?

A growl came from her right. Sairah turned with as little motion as possible, and looked for the source of the noise. She spied a dark shape under a small pine tree. A large, grotesque wolf-like creature crept forward and stopped just outside of the shadows. At least she thought it was a wolf. It was larger than any she’d ever seen either in captivity or in the documentaries on television. Its beady black eyes were focused on her, sending shivers skittering up her spine, and not from the cold this time.

When the creature took another step toward her, panic flared as the moonlight illuminated it. Long, black hair covered it from the top of its head to the tip of its tail. Its ears stood up as if it was listening to something. Sairah held her breath and listened, but the only sound she could hear was the thundering of her heart as it slammed in her chest.

The ears lowered and its mouth opened, revealing large, white teeth. Teeth that dripped with fresh blood. Her heart leapt in her throat as she turned and ran, fear overriding common sense as she fled through the forest, the giant wolf right on her heels.

Sairah pushed her body to its limit, ignoring her burning lungs and calves. She raced through a thorny bush, scraping her arms and legs through her jeans and T-shirt as the briars snagged her.

After tearing herself free, she continued to run. Twigs snapped beneath her feet. Branches smacked her face and caught in her hair. She didn’t know if it was her imagination or if she really could feel the creature’s hot breath on her neck, scorching her sensitive flesh, but either way she didn’t stop to check.

The panting sounds the wolf made grew closer each time she stumbled. Unable to stop herself, Sairah chanced a look behind her and tripped. The flashlight flickered and went out when it hit the ground, bounced and skittered away. She went down hard, landing on her left arm. Sairah cried out as intense pain swept through her.

Cradling her arm close, Sairah tried to stand up, but tripped on the root again and fell back down. A low growl reached her ears, and Sairah looked up into the evil eyes of the beast less than five feet away.

In slow motion it rose on its hind legs and walked toward her as a human would. Bones and muscles shifted until the creature resembled a hairy man with a long, narrow face.

“My God,” she gasped and tried to push herself backward in the cold, damp leaves.

It was a werewolf. Only, those creatures weren’t supposed to exist. They were bedtime tales or movies made to frighten people. How could this thing be real?

A half-human, half-wolf hand closed around her ankle, claws digging into her flesh. She felt around in the dirt with her right hand until she found a stick. She prayed it was long and sturdy as she lifted it out of the leaves and stabbed at the beast with it. The werewolf howled in pain as she slammed the stick into its face. Temporarily free, Sairah scrambled up and ran as fast as she could, praying the moon would go behind the clouds so the creature would revert to full human form. Or was that just something made up for the movies? Her thoughts veered to the fantastical as she ran for her life.

 

More from Michelle Hasker at Changeling Press

 

May Day by Bryl R. Tyne #NewRelease #SecondEdition #GayRomance #multiplepartners @changelingpress @Bryl

May Day

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, Gay, Multiple Partners, Second editions, Silver Fox

 

His forty-ninth birthday approaching, Ed is expecting nothing more than his usual stiff drink and an anonymous fuck in the back room of Yancy’s Crossings. What he never expected was to be picked up by two college students and taken for a ride that would change his life forever.

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

pre-order for April 26th at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Bryl R. Tyne

May. For me, it was the worst month of the year.

“I’m taking the rest of the week off, Sue. And no — no emergency calls.” I couldn’t help but notice the look she threw over the rim of her glasses. Of course, every tenant and his or her neighbor would be calling in for AC maintenance before Friday; today was only Wednesday… like I said, it was May. “It’s my birthday tomorrow, for Pete’s sake.”

As she slapped shut the file she was skimming, I hesitated at the door. “Cut an old man some slack, would you?”

“You ain’t old, Ed. You just need to get laid.”

A hundred needles pierced the back of my neck, and from the heat, I was sure the sudden change in color finding its way to my ears was more than noticeable. But that was Sue for you. Great boss, don’t get me wrong. She just never outgrew her tomboy years. From the warmth now filling my face, the flush was nowhere near receding. Damn my Irish complexion. With my back still toward her desk, I asked, “May I have the rest of the week off, Boss?”

Hand on the doorknob, I waited. Her silent deliberations had always irked me, but I’d paid attention enough over the years to know she needed those certain moments to think she was still in control. After all, she was my boss. If she needed something that simple to make her happy, I was more than happy to accommodate.

After clearing her throat, she voiced her decision. “I can hold down the fort until the weekend. Randy’ll take it from there, but you make sure you’re in ship-shape come Monday morning. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, opening the office door, after a pause to wonder just what she thought I did in my free time. Lord knows, forty-eight — make that forty-nine come tomorrow — and still eligible meant only one thing. I may as well start shopping for retirement living — with a single bed. I reached over and snagged a couple brochures from the table under the curtained window on my way out. Reading material for later, of course.

“And, Ed – Edwin…!”

Body halfway out the door, I popped my head back inside the office.

“Make sure you leave your keys at the bar.” Her wink told me either I was a fool for thinking I’d pulled the perfect ruse all these years or she was a psychic. “And happy birthday. Now, go on. Get out of here.”

 

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Risking It With Scott by Cameron Allie #NewAdult #NewRelease #Contemporary #RomanceBooks @CamAllieErotica @changelingpress

Risking it With Scott (Love Me or Leave Me 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, New Adult

 

The most challenging part of Scott’s new job as a sales rep for Winters Beer is attempting to get the local bar, the Fiddler, to sell their brew. Why? The bartender, Mercedes. She’s gorgeous, sexy, and smart, and she turns him down every time he approaches her. After coming to her rescue, she rewards him with a kiss — and her number. But when it comes to love, Scott has a dirty past, and he’s not quite ready to risk his heart again. He hopes one carnal night will be enough to satisfy his need for the elusive barkeep.

Mercedes knows she shouldn’t trust Scott. Not after hearing the rumors at the bar, rumors from women saying he doesn’t call after their night together, or worse, he never calls at all in the first place. After one wild night in his bed, he delivers a crushing blow — he’s not interested in a relationship. But she’s welcome in his bed, anytime.

Will pride keep her from enjoying the pleasure she finds in his arms? Can Scott overlook past pain and risk his heart all over again?

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

pre-order for April 26th at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Cameron Allie

He’d been hoping to see Mercedes, but as the owner of the Fiddler droned on and on about building miniature tanks from World War One, his new hobby, it became clear that Scott was going to be disappointed.

As the newest sales rep at Winters Beer, Scott had been tasked with trying to build their brand in northwestern Ontario. He traveled to various restaurants, bars, and hotels in an attempt to get them to expand their product line to include Winters Beer.

For months he’d been trying to get Winters into the Fiddler. It was a popular watering hole, one his friends often frequented. The owner, Jim Sanders, was dragging his feet when it came to adding to the menu. Scott had a feeling Jim was looking to sell the bar. His interest seemed torn between too many things. Midlife crisis, Scott thought, as he looked over the man who had recently dyed his hair and was in the midst of growing a poorly shaped goatee.

It didn’t really bother Scott, though. He didn’t mind Jim’s hesitation. It gave him more opportunities to run into Mercedes.

As far as he was concerned, Mercedes was a goddess.

She was a bartender there. She had straight black hair, so straight that not a strand was ever out of place. Occasionally she’d braid a little strip down the front, and it would sway to and fro as she rushed to fill drink orders. She worked at both the Fiddler and at Club Ivy, a nearby night club. He noticed when she worked at the bar her makeup was always more conservative, yet still she wore bright lipstick, while at the club she usually wore a thick line of black eyeliner, curving out from the corner of her eye. It was generally enhanced by a bright color, a bold green or daring purple. Despite her workplace, she always had polished nails with little embellishments on the thumbnails.

He wanted to see her hair messed up after a night of passionate sex. He wanted to see her makeup smudged beneath her eyes come morning, but mostly he wanted to see those fingernails digging into his flesh as he rode deep between her legs.

Scott fought not to get a boner as he stood talking with Jim. He glanced toward the empty bar. The Fiddler wouldn’t be open for another hour, but sometimes Mercedes came in early. It was the best time to talk to her.

For months now he’d been chasing her. He’d flirt. She’d flirt. He’d ask her out. She’d say no.

He didn’t understand.

His best friend Heath kept telling him it was part of her job to flirt. She did it for tips, but Scott knew it was more than that. He knew there was something special between them. And he knew she felt it too.

He just couldn’t figure out why she kept turning him down.

Unhappy with how his business had concluded, Scott headed for the exit. Jim was still being reluctant, and Scott wondered if something more was happening than just stubbornness. Jim had said he’d meet with Allan again, but the whole thing pissed Scott off. It wasn’t the first time they’d set up a meeting, then Jim had blown Allan off and didn’t show up. Besides, it was Scott’s job to land the sale, not Allan’s. Allan was the owner of the company, and more recently, an engaged man. He should be spending his time showering his fiancée, Candice, with love and affection.

As he approached the double doors of the bar, he heard a frustrated voice through the wood, followed by repeated banging and thumping noises.

“Stupid, Goddamned, fuckin’ thing!”

Scott opened the door that wasn’t vibrating on its hinges and saw Mercedes standing on the other side trying in vain to pull her key out.

“Hey. Having some trouble?”

She glanced at him before straightening her braid. “No, I just thought I’d fight with the lock for no reason.” She returned her attention to the key and gave it another pull.

“Sorry,” she apologized for her outburst. “What are you doing here?”

“Talking with Jim. Again.”

She nodded. “I see. I take it that it didn’t go well?”

“He’s being stubborn.”

“Yeah, he’s like that. And cheap, too! Like this lock. It would take nothing to fix it. Hell, I offered to change it myself, but he won’t shell out the money for a new one. Stingy bastard.”

Worried Jim might overhear their conversation, Scott shut the door. He’d gone back to his office, but Scott didn’t want to chance her losing her job over a conversation. “Want me to get it out?” he offered.

Mercedes smiled at him. “It’s okay.” She tried again, failed, and slapped her palm against the wood surface. This time she refrained from swearing, though Scott assumed she’d only done so because he was standing there.

“Want me to try now?”

“No. I’ll get it.” Twenty seconds later, after jiggling and pulling the key, she slumped. With her forehead against the door she finally gave in. “It’s cold out here. I give.”

For December it was unseasonably warm, but he understood. “My fee just went up.”

“What?”

“My fee for helping. It went up. See, the first time you refused my help I understood. You wanted to do it yourself. The second time you were being stubborn, and I’ve had my fill of stubborn today. I’ll help you, but it will cost you.”

 

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Dragon Flux by Emily Carrington #PNR #UrbanFantasy #BDSM #GayRomance #NewRelease @changelingpress @CarringtonEmily

Dragon Flux (Dragon in Training 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy,
Gay, Shapeshifters, Elves Dragons and Magical Creatures

 

When Luke, a genie, figures out that his husband is depressed because they’ll never have children, Luke takes on the ultimate challenge and becomes a female dragon.

His husband, Mark, is put off by breasts and a vagina at first… but then he realizes it’s still Luke under the new curves and his lust for Luke can never be assuaged.

With all the struggles presented by pregnancy and prejudice from the magical world, will Mark and Luke bring their baby into the world amid joy or stress?

 

Available Today at Changeling Press

pre-order at retailers for April 26th

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

It was almost ten that night when Mark dragged his ass into the condo. His head hurt, his arms hurt — he’d been re-shelving boxes for the last two hours of his shift — and his brain hurt from the pounding he’d given it as he struggled to focus. Not even driving home in his muscle car could release his tension. Now, all he wanted to do was curl up beside Luke and fall into an exhausted sleep.

But the first thing to hit his senses when he opened the door was the scent of cinnamon rolls. His stomach growled and he realized he’d skipped dinner. Again.

Following his nose into the kitchen, he found that Luke had made the sticky pastries from scratch. And there was a small tub of fresh, thick frosting. It was still warm.

Rather than indulge his sweet tooth, Mark took the tub of frosting, crossed the living room, and stopped in the doorway to the master bedroom.

Luke, naked and holding a small knife, leaned against the closet door. He hadn’t used the knife yet and he was half hard.

“I thought I would have to draw blood without you,” the genie murmured, his eyes half lidded. The blade vanished. “Is that for me?”

Mark carried the frosting in and stood in front of his husband. “Is this your way of telling me I haven’t been paying you enough attention?”

“Something like that.” Luke dipped a finger into the tub and spread the gooey stuff over his shoulder. “I need your teeth, my Mark. Please.”

Mark hesitated. “Luke, I love you, but I’m exhausted.” He was also partially erect within his dress pants, but right now tiredness held sway.

The knife reappeared in Luke’s hand. Without preamble, he cut his shoulder through the frosting. He hissed but his cock twitched. “It’s just not the same.”

Mark’s mouth flooded with saliva. He swallowed. “Luke…” He reached out and ran a finger through the bloody mess, licking up sweetness and salt. His stomach growled again. “You’re irresistible, you know that?”

His lover grinned. “Bite me, or I’m going to have to make do with less satisfying means.” And he moved to cut himself again.

It probably would have seemed disgusting to anyone who wasn’t a dragon, but Mark lusted after Luke’s blood almost as much as he lusted after the genie himself. The fact that Luke got off on the pain only made it better. Mark moved close, briefly cupped Luke’s balls, and then set about licking off the frosting and blood. When it was all gone, he used his dragon-made saliva to heal the wound left behind. Then he took the tub and applied a generous portion to Luke’s other shoulder and upper arm. Then he began nibbling, licking, and lightly biting. Between them, Luke’s erection strained.

“Take your clothes off,” the genie begged.

“Would you mind making them disappear?” Mark grinned when Luke did as he asked. Then he stepped back, made sure he had Luke’s undivided attention, and stroked himself slowly.

Luke groaned. “Tease.”

 

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