Category Archives: Guest Authors

Love by Accident by L.M. Spangler #ContemporaryRomance #secondchances #NewRelease @authlmspangler @evernightpub

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Blurb:

She wasn’t looking for love, but sometimes fate has a mind of its own.

Newly divorced Haven DeGrace had no intention of finding a new man, but an accident on a snowy road changed that.

Ford Mahoney had been her saving grace after her accident. After agreeing to meet for drinks upon his return from a west coast book tour, sparks flew. But, she had plans for her life and he wasn’t part of them.

Ford watched the first woman who’d ever gotten under his skin walk out of his life. A chance meeting in the vacation beach town she’d moved to brings them back together. Sparks fly again and love flares to life.

Will they act on their mutual feelings or will they walk out of each other’s lives? Again?

Excerpt:

“What am I doing here?” Haven mumbled to herself as she stirred her cocktail with the tiny little straw.

She had no idea why she’d agreed to meet Ford for dinner. Sure, they’d talked at least every other day for the past three months, but she’d just finalized her divorce. She’d only made it that long before accepting a date outside of her parents’ house. What kind of floozy did that? Her heart raced despite taking discreet deep breaths, trying to calm herself. The last thing she wanted to do was hyperventilate in the swanky French, five-star restaurant they’d chosen to meet.

She had come to enjoy their conversations while he was gone. For the first time, she realized she liked a man for his personality and the way he treated her. Not based on just looks. Asshole was one hell of a handsome man, but that’s where it stopped. Ford, on the other hand, had a beautiful heart and she appreciated that a lot more than Asshole’s good looks.

A small gasp passed her lips when a single red rose suddenly appeared in front of her. “The rose pales in comparison to you.”

She spun to face Ford, seeing him for the first time. Her eyes swept up and down his tall frame. The man was the hottest thing she’d ever seen on two legs. Sure, when she could see again, she’d looked him up after she found out who he was. But the pictures did not do the man justice. His dark hair was swept back off his face, accentuating strong cheekbones and his angular jaw. His dark eyes glittered in the dim light of the bar.

Haven rose, praying she wouldn’t tangle her feet. The five-inch heels she’d chosen to accompany her silver-sequined tank dress were treacherous to say the least. She hadn’t worn heels since her wedding. Mark had called them “come fuck me” shoes so they were strictly prohibited by asshole husband law.

His eyes did their own quick assessment. When they met hers again, his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. Approval? God, she hoped so. Heat rushed her core—a reaction she hadn’t had in longer than she could remember. And it felt amazing.

He offered his hand and she slid hers into it. A flash of electricity sizzled between them, felt only by them. A small grin spread across his face and he nodded as if acknowledging that something was happening, something primal.

Haven’s stomach took flight on the wings of a thousand butterflies and she thought, This is what attraction feels like, what pure, unadulterated, animalistic lust feels like.

The connection was immediate. Undeniable.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Let’s skip dinner.” His breath fanned her neck and goose pimples erupted on her skin. Erotic images raced through her mind, sending a wave of liquid heat to her core, setting her aflame.

She leaned into him. “I’m not sure I’m ready for you.” The words were whispered from her heart.

“No strings. Just us, tonight. The two of us.”

She tilted her head back, her eyes meeting his. “Yes.”

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2lAhrMc

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2klQuM5

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2m3vhH6

Amazon FR: https://amzn.to/2lFrS16

Amazon DE: https://amzn.to/2k0ZgyE

Amazon JP: https://amzn.to/2lG56pw

Amazon MX: https://amzn.to/2klXqZC

Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/love-by-accident-by-lm-spangler/

Smashwords: https://bit.ly/2ky5yWG

About the Author:

I live close to the Maryland border in South Central Pennsylvania. My husband is wonderfully supportive of me in all aspects of my life. I have a son who is currently serving our country in the U.S. Navy. My daughter is still in school. I’m blessed to have the three of them in my life.

From a young age, I remember burying my nose in a book. A love that my mother and father passed onto my brother and myself. From my passion for reading sprang my love of writing. My mind is so often full of story ideas from the wildly paranormal to contemporary. I have notebooks lying about with story outlines and character descriptions. A song or TV show can spark an idea which circles my mind until I put the idea on paper.

When I’m not writing, I enjoy spending time with my family, burying my nose in a book, and watching a vast variety of television shows from crime dramas to 1970’s game shows. I even dabble in crafting. My favorite craft would be jewelry making. Nothing like creating wearable art.

Social Media Links:

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/lmspangler

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authlmspangler

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlmspangler/

Books2Read:https://books2read.com/ap/nlvm5x/LM-Spangler

 

Killian’s Hope by Elyzabeth M. VaLey #PNR #NewRelease @ElyzabethVaLey @evernightpub

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Hope is a precious thing.

Hope is all Alpha Protector Killian has. Hope for more time with his mate. Hope for a better future in which they can be together freely. When they’re both assigned to the same undercover mission in Spain, Killian seizes the opportunity as a chance to spend more time with Prudence.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t share his point of view, but hope is the last thing he’ll lose.

It’s not greed if it’s for the greater good.

Prudence loves Killian above all else, but her mission in life is to serve the Virtues and keep the balance between good and evil. Being appointed leader of the Spell Casters in the dangerous mission to defeat the Sin Lords is her chance to prove to her superiors that she can be the next High Priestess.

The only problem is resisting Killian.

With years of pent up love and frustration tugging at them, will they be able to avoid succumbing to their forbidden mating? And what will happen when the evil which they were sent to destroy threatens to tear them apart forever?

Available Now:
Evernight ~ Amazon ~ Amazon.uk ~ Smashwords ~ Bookstrand ~ and more

The Sagrada Familia. Pictures © Elyzabeth Valey.

Almost two years ago, I revisited the city of Barcelona, Spain.

I was getting ready for the release of Max’s Desire, which mainly takes place in Madrid, and was already busy working on Killian and Prudence’s story.

No sooner had I arrived at the city, I knew that’s where my characters would be headed. I could picture the couple walking through the Gothic Quarter, commenting on the street art, the wide spaces, even the elaborate steel lampposts

Then, we visited the Sagrada Familia and everything clicked. From the arches, to the stained glass windows, down to the never ending spires, it all fit perfectly into Killian’s story.

I hope when you read Killian’s Hope you can delight in stepping into their version of Barcelona, as much as I enjoyed writing about it.

Excerpt:

The last rays of sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, creating a pattern of dancing colors on the floors and walls. It would have been a spectacle worth watching if she wasn’t so bent on seeing Killian. She was glad they weren’t allowed to be in the same room together, because otherwise, she didn’t know if she would be capable of not throwing herself into his arms. Prudence reached the appointed room. It was not much larger than the one on the other side of the wall. With an impatient flick of her wrist, she brought the ancient scripts on the walls alive with light. The protection spells glowed brightly for a few seconds then began to fade, remaining dim like the last licking flames of dying firewood. Sitting on the padded stool in front of the window, Pru inhaled deeply. She bit her lip to keep from gasping. Surely, she couldn’t smell him in here. Surely, it was only her mind playing tricks on her, recalling his scent from previous encounters. She dropped her gaze to her hands, staring at her quivering fingers which matched the erratic thumping of her heart. She had to control herself. Recall their true reason for being here.

Killian cleared his throat loudly, shattering her thoughts. There was no point in delaying this any longer. Her pain would not ease so she’d just have to bury it. As she reached for the window’s knob, she swore she heard Killian’s labored exhale, as if he too were releasing something pent-up inside him. Was it possible he also felt the same pain as her? Selfish thoughts tried to surface but she beat them back. It was time to focus. Bracing herself, she slid open the window dividing them and any pretense of focus was nearly lost. Eyes blue like the ocean on a clear morning with dark irises and long blond lashes locked with hers. Her heart danced in her chest and her cheeks heated. Every fiber in her body woke up, alert to the presence of the man she loved.

She dug her fingernails into her knees. Dear Gods, she wanted to touch him. Her gaze dropped to his lips which she could see through the fine mesh. Kiss him. Feel his warm mouth against her, breathing life into her. She looked up again and realized he did the same, taking her in like some kind of starved animal. Tears stung the back of her eyes and she averted her gaze. She had to end this quickly, before their emotions got out of hand. She glanced at the ring on her left hand. Silver with a white stone, it represented the order of Spell Casters. She had to keep her mission in mind.

“Why are you here, Killian?”

Silence stretched between them and she wondered if he had heard her.

“Killian?”

“You can’t keep the sweetness out of my name even when you try.”

Her gaze flew to his and she saw the familiar spark in his eyes. The one which lit her up inside and out and made the corner of her lips twitch. Daredevil. She clasped her hands together, pressing the pad of her thumb against the ring. Remember.

“Why are you here?” she asked drily, proud that at least her voice didn’t tremble.

“You know why.”

“I don’t.”

“You requested me.”

“You have received the documents.”

“And your note.”

“You would have tried to see me and gotten yourself into trouble otherwise.”

“So you decided to make it easier for me by leaving a love-locked message.”

She could hear his grin. He was holding back a chuckle. Damn man. She pursed her lips. If she smiled, she’d be opening a window of opportunity, giving them both hope when there was none.

“Yes. And—” She paused. Here it went. “I just wanted to make it clear that this is strictly business.”

“Yet, you requested me for the mission.”

“What?” she squealed.

“Aslan told me.”

“That’s not how it happened. It has nothing to do with us. I would have requested another but—”

“But, Pru?”

She didn’t reply. Her head pounded as she tried to find a way to get out of the mess she had created. She could almost taste the savory sweetness of hope, stretching between them like an invisible lasso binding them together.

“Killian, you know we can’t be together,” she whispered at length.

“I know, but that’s not what I’m asking. Not today.” His tone was gentle, their roles reversed. One moment, she’d had the upper hand, had been dealing the cards, the next, he’d plucked them out of her hand.

“I simply want to know: why did you request me? Why, Pru?”

About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after. From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab and Golden Retriever mix, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.

Follow her at:

Blog
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram (@elyvaley)
Goodreads
Pinterest
Amazon

 

Get Off My Cloud by Anne Kane #RomCom #NewRelease #AlternateUniverse @changelingpress @AnneKane

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Six months ago, Lucas met the woman of his dreams, but after a night of amazing sex he woke up to find himself alone. Sent to rescue the daughter of a billionaire from her own folly, he discovers her to be the same woman, and this time he intends to make sure she stays put.

When Olivia discovers a herd of live dinosaurs existing on a small island in the South Pacific, she’s ecstatic. This discovery could crown her career as a paleontologist and put to rest the rumors that her daddy bought her position for her! Of course, when her father sends someone to drag her home, she’s not willing to comply and the couple must find a way to deal with the sizzling attraction between them while running from a herd of angry prehistoric beasts.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for September 13th at retailers

 

   

 

Praise for Get Off My Cloud (Set in Stone)

“I really enjoyed this story – how it turned the tables on the usual “love ‘em and leave ‘em” style of man. I really enjoyed both Lucas’ and Olivia’s characters. A quick and steamy read, this was a fun short story.”

— Fern, Long and Short Reviews

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Anne Kane

The voyage had been rougher than Lucas had expected. The fishing trawler he’d rented to get himself from the mainland over to the small island where the target was located had bucked and heaved on the choppy waters, at times threatening to turn itself upside down. Not an ideal ride, but it did the job. He was on the island. Now all he needed to do was locate his employer’s daughter and convince her to leave with him. Grabbing his backpack of supplies, he set out to find her.

Good thing the island was so small. As it was, it was past noon before he caught sight of a battered old canvas tent on the east side of a grassy meadow at the foot of a small hill. He made his way down to the bottom of the hill, cursing the lack of any kind of trail to follow. The low scrub bush that blanketed the area made foot travel slow going. Once he made it to the edge of the flat meadow, he paused to scout out the lay of the land. He wasn’t sure of the best way to approach the woman. She had no idea who he was, and she just might be armed. She would be perfectly justified in defending herself against an unknown male who suddenly showed up unannounced. The last thing he wanted was to engage in a shootout with his employer’s daughter.

Lucas pulled his field glasses out of his backpack and studied the base camp. Two facts immediately slammed into his disbelieving brain. Hard to tell which was more astounding. Firstly, those four-legged creatures stretching up to munch on the tops of the trees definitely did look like dinosaurs.

And secondly, Mr. Billionaire’s daughter was none other than the woman he’d spent one unbelievably fabulous night with almost half a year ago. The woman who’d seduced him, fucked him gloriously senseless and then disappeared before he managed to regain consciousness the following morning.

Hell, he’d started to think he’d dreamed the whole thing. No woman could be that gorgeously curvy, that amazingly good in bed, and then just leave without expecting anything at all from him. He hadn’t even taken her out for dinner. Or breakfast. Not that he was cynical or anything but women were expensive. They didn’t do anything without expecting some kind of payback, and they sure as hell didn’t do all the things she’d done for him and with him and to him without very high expectations.

So when she’d disappeared without a trace, he’d been speechless. Speechless and, if he were honest with himself, just a tiny bit bereft.

He’d wanted more. More of her. More of them together. Taking a deep breath, he strode across the field toward the woman who’d starred in all of his X-rated dreams for the past six months.

He could tell the exact moment she became aware of his presence. Her head came up like a deer who’d suddenly scented a predator. She turned in his direction, and her lips formed a surprised “o.”

Yeah. She remembered him all right. It was in her eyes, in the way the pink tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips, in the way her nostrils flared as if breathing itself had become an issue.

Her lips curved upward in that slow, sexy smile he remembered so well, and it sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. Instant hard-on. Yeah. That was her, all right. Olivia. New-age hippie. The first woman to ever love him all night and leave him wanting more the next morning.

He was close enough now to look right into her eyes, to see the warmth there, the genuine happiness at seeing him again. He didn’t get it. She looked thrilled to see him now, so why had she left that morning without so much as a fleeting message, or a goodbye kiss?

 

More from Anne at Changeling Press …

Anne is a gorgeous supermodel who writes romance in her spare time while jetting around Europe with a string of boy-toys in tow.

Hmmm… no one is going to believe that. How about this?

Anne is an undercover agent for a super secret government agency and when not saving the world for democracy and all the good people, she writes romance one-handed on a special mini computer designed by a mad scientist just for her.

Yeah, that sounds way better. So, ignore the people who tell you she’s just an ordinary person with an extraordinary imagination. They’re just jealous because she gets to play with James Bond and vacation in exotic locations.

Honestly!

When she’s not busy saving the world or writing the next great novel, she likes to kayak, hike, ride motorcycles, swim, skate, practice karate, play her guitar, sing and of course, read.

You can find her online at:
Website: www.AnneKane.com
Blog: www.annekane.wordpress.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/annekane
Facebook: www.facebook.com/anne.kane.author

 

 

Emotional Rescue by Lily Vega #PNR #shifters #NewRelease @LV_Writer @changelingpress

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Alistair, a human by day and a stone gargoyle by night, goes along with a scheme that could break his curse, but he risks losing the woman of his dreams.

After being burned by love, Kendra sets her sights on her employer’s hunky gardener for a down-and-dirty romp. Their physical connection has the potential to be the emotional rescue they both need, until Kendra discovers the secrets Al’s been hiding.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order at retailers for September 13th

 

   

 

Praise for Emotional Rescue (Set in Stone) 

“…it’s sweet, succinct and alludes to an exciting potential future. It’s a short-shot of fun and romance with a nugget of adventure to tickle a reader’s imagination. I am glad I read this little book and think it’s a perfect afternoon indulgence.”

— Xeranthemum, Long and Short Reviews

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Lily Vega

Kendra’s job as the personal assistant to a wealthy entrepreneur involved little more than calendar management and simple errands. A colossal waste of her MBA.

At least the generous paycheck helped to make a dent in her student loans.

Who the hell was she kidding? The real reason she’d procrastinated in applying for a better job had everything to do with her boss’s hunky gardener.

Whenever they’d spoken, the air seemed charged with current. Every time she caught a glimpse of his physique or looked into his soulful eyes, her heart sped like a rabbit spying a wolf. Since she’d met Alistair, he’d inspired a number of naughty fantasies.

Mr. Wong’s business trip to Shanghai provided the perfect opportunity for quality time with Al. The frenzied departure of her typically Zen boss could be blamed on Mercury retrograde or a zombie apocalypse. Not that she believed in astrology or zombies, but a girl could use any excuse to seize the day. A romp with the hot gardener might be just the thing to satisfy her base urges enough to allow her to break out of her comfort zone and jumpstart her career change.

She didn’t dare consider the possibilities of a long-term relationship. After discovering her two roommates doing the nasty with her boyfriend in the kitchen of their apartment, she’d stopped believing in relationships. After kicking all three of them out, she had allowed her life to become a mind-numbing rut.

Never again would she let herself be gullible enough to trust a lover. Best to stick to casual sex and her vibrator to fulfill her needs.

She peeked out the window. The lawn was lush and green. Each blade of grass stood basking in the rays of the sun. The rose bushes displayed their velvety petals. Pansies added splashes of purple, blue, and yellow to the grounds. The landscape displayed Al’s care, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen.

If he was into her, she’d limit their liaison to a one-night stand. Even if it killed her, she’d let herself have one taste and move on.

“Excuse me.” The deep rumble of Al’s voice sent a quiver from the back of her neck to the tips of her toes. “I need to water the bamboo plant behind you.”

“Of course.” When she moved out of his way, her high-heeled sandals caught the edge of the Persian rug and she stumbled.

His hand shot out to steady her. Up close, he was even better looking. At over six feet tall, he towered over her five-foot frame, making her feel petite.

She gazed into his eyes and took a deep breath of his earthy scent — fresh-cut grass with a light hint of flowers. An image of him rolling around shirtless in a meadow flashed through her mind. She clutched at his soft shirt and the muscles of his chest contracted underneath.

“Would you consider… “

“Yes.” His hand slid up her arm to caress her shoulder.

A laugh spilled from her lips and her nervousness vanished. “I didn’t finish asking the question.”

“Your wish is my command. After I water the plant, of course.” He continued to rub lazy circles on her shoulder. “Wong will skin me alive if he returns to find his favorite frond droopy.”

“How do you know it’s his favorite? The house and grounds are full of greenery and flowers.”

“The bamboo sits where he can see it while he works at his desk. An object of desire is usually kept close.” His voice went deeper on the word “desire.”

 

More from Lily at Changeling Press …

Lily Vega lives in the Midwest with her sexy husband who combines all of Dean Winchester’s best qualities with a flair for computers. She continually cultivates her dirty mind, fueling it with caffeine and craft beer. She believes all creatures, especially those of the night, deserve mind-blowing sex with a happily ever after.

Check out www.facebook.com/LilyVegaWriter for quirky posts and photos of hot guys. Visit Lily’s website at LilyVega.com and follow her on Twitter @LV_Writer.

 

 

Guarded Heart by Treva Harte #Action #RomanceBooks #NewRelease #LGBT @changelingpress

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Leo was sure Gene would see the advantages of staying in California — with Leo — once he gets Gene back home. But it looks like Gene’s only here to find out why he’s been threatened, and to make sure his only friend in the state isn’t the one making threats.

Leo knows finding out the truth could leave Gene disillusioned and in danger. It probably doesn’t matter that Leo cares a hell of a lot for the guy. Enough to protect him, find out the truth, and let Gene decide whether to stay or go.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for September 13th at retailers

 

   

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Treva Harte

For some reason I’d thought I’d finally got Gene when he agreed to come home to California. I mean, how could you not love California? The beaches, the food, the people, even the damned smog and the occasional earthquake. I couldn’t imagine any place better. But he had the worst plane phobia I’d ever seen on anyone who actually made it onto a plane and stayed there. And motion sickness, I think. And probably just anxiety about every damn thing he was doing on this trip and why he was coming back.

The car ride from the airport had been only marginally better than the plane ride. He wasn’t turning green once we touched ground, but once he got in the rental car Gene took to crossing his arms as if to ward off a threat.

“Sorry, Leo,” he said before he got in the taxi. I wasn’t sure exactly what he was apologizing for. Being a bad traveler? Raising my hopes that once he got here, he’d be happy?

Gradually he stopped talking at all. That wasn’t like him.

I braced myself for the reaction when we entered my condo. Whatever it was, I knew it wouldn’t be what I expected. He never did what I thought he would.

He smiled.

“This isn’t a crappy place.”

“It’s no penthouse, but it’s really near the office.” I’d been lucky to get the one bedroom back when someone needed quick cash. But compared to what Gene used to live in…

I watched him head over to the patio window and look out and then try another angle for the view.

Damn it, this totally didn’t measure up to his mansion in fucking Malibu. That place was exactly what a big star, a star as big as he’d been, was supposed to be in.

A hummingbird. He reminded me of a goddamned hummingbird as he craned his neck and then stepped back. That was his usual style. Colorful, eye-catching, and darting here and there. He didn’t belong in my minimalist place — the nice way of saying I had almost no furniture beyond what was absolutely needed and the walls were painted a boring, neutral light gray. I hadn’t thought much about it until he arrived, looking out of place.

Then again, he hadn’t looked right in his cabin in Maine. That made this place look like a palace. Maybe it was just as well he hadn’t seen where I lived until he’d spent a decade living in a beaten-down shack in the middle of nowhere. Anything would look good after living there.

Damn it. I hadn’t felt self-conscious in years, and I wasn’t going to take up the habit now. “Why don’t you settle in? I need to check my email and make a few calls. Then we can have some tea — I think I have some — and figure out our next moves.” I tried to sound casual. Orders weren’t going to work with Gene, especially a jumpy Gene. But I already knew what needed to be done. We could wrap this up in a few hours at worst if what I thought happened actually had. And if it hadn’t, then what was going on would be a damned unusual event.

“Maybe a shower. I’ve probably sweated my shirt through.” Gene looked faintly embarrassed. “I haven’t been on a plane in a long time. For good reason.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Smartass.” Gene grinned and then headed toward the bathroom without asking for directions. It didn’t take much to figure out where it had to be. My condo wasn’t a lot bigger than his cabin.

I fought the sudden drive of lust when I saw that grin and then I had to fight following him into the shower. I had work to do, even though that pull of sex was almost too strong. How the hell did he do that? I usually had more self-control.

I needed that self control as I began to go through the emails I needed to answer. Most of it was routine, thank God, because I began to think about other things — namely, what happened next. Once we wrapped his problem up, then what? How would Gene take a theft from the one person he trusted back here? And what possible reason would we have to see each other afterward?

Not just theft, but attempted murder. Whoever had threatened him had followed through, however badly, by hiring someone who used a teenager to shoot off a BB gun into Gene’s house. A half-assed attempt was still an attempt. The threats, the shooting — I didn’t know why that was supposed to cover up embezzlement, if that was the issue, but lots of thieves didn’t think things out properly.

But the thing was, once we found out it was his agent, Gene would have no reason to ever come back to California. He hated it now. And California was my home.

Why the fuck did I care? It wasn’t like we were long-time lovers. Gene had hired me a second time after we hadn’t seen each other in a decade. Shit, after he’d fired me and disappeared. We’d just barely started to be friendly fuck buddies this time around. So I’d been a little hung up on him for the past few years. More like ten years, but…

“All right. I’m almost feeling human again,” Gene announced, his voice at my elbow as he bent over to see what I was doing. “Let’s hit the tea and discuss things.”

I looked at him all showered, clothed, and perky and I wasn’t thinking about tea. He smiled again, slowly, as he assessed my stare.

“Unless you have a better idea,” he said.

 

More from Treva at Changeling Press …

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

 

Bind Me, Sir by Lynn Burke #BDSM #NewRelease #billionaire #RomanceBooks #eroticromance @AuthorLynnBurke

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Bind Me, Sir

Bonds of Worship 1

By Lynn Burke

Release Date: September 3, 2019

#BDSM #Erotic #Romance #Billionaire #Series #HEA

Blurb:

As part of the British peerage, Jordan Graystone knows what it’s like to live in the public eye. Which is why he holds hard limits when it comes to scening with submissives—no kissing, no penetration. Both lead to unwanted emotions and women attempting to take more than he’s willing to give.

Entrusted with the care of raising her younger sister is a responsibility Natalie Perez doesn’t take lightly. She focuses solely on her troubled ward, putting aside her own desires even when confronted with the temptation Jordan promises—fulfilling her fantasies to be bound and worshiped upon an old church’s altar.

Secretly snapping a photo ends in a confrontation that arouses Natalie to the point of turmoil—and Jordan past the point of caring about limits. He’s determined to give Natalie the release she needs, but her obligation threatens to rip apart his plans for more than their agreed upon one night.

Will Natalie’s selfless dedication to her sister be the key to bind her and Jordan together or the fault that tears them apart?

​PURCHASE LINKS:

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/BINDMESIR

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1132958903

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bind-me-sir

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/bind-me-sir/id1477095020

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/953733

Books2Read Universal: https://books2read.com/bindmesirbow1

GOODREADS LINKS: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/47870665-bind-me-sir


EXCERPT:

A flick of the lights flooded the room in brightness, and I blinked until he dimmed them enough I could glance around the church’s interior. It appeared the same as the first time I’d trespassed—dark and seductive, the excitement of the unknown heightening my pulse and breath.

Jordan released my hand, and I clutched my arms around my middle as he flipped the switch on a lone electric candle in the front window.

“To let others know the church is occupied,” he explained once he turned to find my brow furrowed in question. He took his time lighting candles around the room, and eventually flicked off the dimmed overhead lights and stood before me.

A shudder rippled over me at the look in his eyes, a darker blue, like the sky at twilight, full of unknown, lurking shadows. He stared at my lips and tugged me close. I dropped my arms to my sides, unsure of what to do but trusting him to tell me.

“We need to talk about a few things first, okay, love?”

The pet name, the accent in his low tone, nearly buckled my knees. I managed a nod, swallowing against the dryness in my throat as I stared at his lips.

“Do you have any experience in this lifestyle?”

I shook my head.

“Are you a virgin?”

Heat flooded my cheeks, and even though I’d only experienced sex a handful of times, I’d never enjoyed it as the women in the eBooks Lily insisted I read. I shook my head once more, too embarrassed to admit the truth of my lackluster sex life.

“Do you know what a safeword is?” he continued with the questioning, and my face heated even more at memories of the last book I’d devoured the evening before.

“Like traffic lights?” I whispered.

A twinkle lit in his eyes. “Yes. Tell me what each color means.”

“Green means go.” I swallowed. “Yellow is slow down, I need to think. Red means stop.”

He nodded. “You’re in control, Natalie. I will learn your body, your tells, but you decide what will or won’t happen tonight, okay, love?”

He would learn my body…

God, yes.

I nodded.

“Tell me—” Jordan turned me to face the room, his hands on my waist as he pressed against my back, his chin on my shoulder “—what part of this room excites you the most?”

Gulping, I glanced at the altar. “Everything,” I whispered rather than admit to the truth.

“Instruments of pain?”

The rack of items including a crop and flogger snagged my attention, but I wasn’t sure about pain other than the idea of his hand prints on my backside.

“The cross?”

I eyed the St. Andrew’s cross, flinching at the memory of a woman I’d read about being strapped to such a contraption, angry red marks across her thighs and lower back.

“The bed?”

Rings on the sturdy posts drew my focus, and I licked my lower lip.

“The altar?”

My breath caught, nipples aching as I studied the table meant for worshiping God and the ungodly images flashing in my head of being tied down—open and unable to move. Bound for a dominant’s pleasure—Jordan’s pleasure.

“Mmm.” His hot breath caressed my ear. “You do want to be strapped down to the altar, don’t you?”

I jerked my head in agreement, a million butterflies fluttering my stomach.

Jordan steered me closer with his hands on my hips, stopping me right in front of the padded altar. Coils of rope sat atop it, and I gulped at the thought of abrasions on my wrists and ankles—not that I had any intention of fighting whatever he wished to do to me.

“Tell me what you want, Natalie,” he said, his breath once again hot against my ear.

Dare I? I hesitated, embarrassed to admit what I’d fantasized about. My gaze flitted to the bed once more and the lengths of black silk draped over the bed’s foot.

“Answer me.”

I jerked my focus back on the altar and flicked my tongue out to moisten my lips. “Bind me, Sir.”

© Lynn Burke 2019

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

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Well Endowed by Tina Donahue #PNR #NewRelease #RomCom

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Ever wonder what it would be like to have your own jinn? Great, huh? The wishes. The riches. The problems.

Yep. That’s what Cari faces when she inherits Jez. As an alpha jinn, he refuses to serve anyone but a man. As far as he’s concerned, she’s only good for some hot and heavy loving.

Hmm. She believes otherwise and shows him just who has the upper hand.

Let the battle of the sexes begin…

Where there’s a will, there’s wicked fun… 

 

Drowning in bad luck, Cari doesn’t know where to turn when the unexpected happens. A loyal customer at her Key West café has left her an inheritance. She hopes for cash to save her restaurant but receives an old brass bottle that looks like a sex toy…and has Jez inside. 

At six-four, he’s built like a gladiator, has looks to die for, and oozes sexuality. He’s also a jinn. 

Color her enthralled and excited. Besides being one hot dude, he grants wishes, right? 

 

Not for her. Ironclad tradition demands he serve men, not women. Of course, if she wants to get down and dirty with him, he’ll gladly oblige. 

 

Let the battle of the sexes begin. Before long, their differences fall away as they indulge in every lusty desire, while falling hard and fast. Ah, paradise. Until trouble arrives, threatening to pull them apart forever…

 

EXTASY  |  AMAZON  |  BARNES & NOBLE  |  KOBO

 

 

Excerpt:

 

She couldn’t wait a second longer and twisted the knob to open the container.

 

The top didn’t budge.

 

She tried repeatedly until she was breathless and sweating.

 

The fucking thing wouldn’t turn. The nicks and dents she’d noticed earlier proved to be pry marks around the top that resembled the crown on a man’s cock.

 

“Crap.” She wasn’t equipped to break this thing or saw it open.

 

After searching her kitchen for something to use, she settled on rubber gloves to add traction to her grip. With her thighs holding the bottle, she wrenched the top as hard as her strength allowed.

 

The knob not only loosened, but flew off—similar to a cork on a champagne bottle—and hit her wall, denting the plaster.

 

There goes my security deposit.

 

Hold on.

 

By itself, the bottle trembled between her thighs, the metal growing warmer. Not an unpleasant feeling, but fucking weird. 

 

Appalled, she flung the container on her table.

 

It thudded dully against her purse and shook violently.

 

“Shit, shit, shit!” The damn thing was going to blow. Her spicy, rich cooking must have pushed Ethyl into an earlier grave than she wanted, and this was payback. Terrified, Cari dropped to her knees, desperate to crawl to the door and outside. Frozen in horror, she hunkered behind a chair for protection.

 

Thunder roared.

 

Gold-and-black smoke poured from the bottle.

 

I’m going to die.

 

Hard rain struck the windows, but they didn’t blow out from an explosion.

 

Rather than the smoke rising to the ceiling, it curled in a slow spiral then drifted away from the table to her side.

 

Shuddering, she crab-walked away from it.

 

The smoke followed and took form.

 

Feet appeared first, at least a size fifteen, the toes well-formed and long. Muscular calves and thighs materialized next, dark hairs hugging them, the complexion olive.

 

She stopped edging back and leaned forward instead.

 

Upper thighs and narrow hips emerged, a startling-white fabric tied around the groin area, the ends hiding the good stuff. Not a loincloth exactly, more like a scarf exposing a rock-hard ass. 

The abs and chest were no different, each sculpted, the small nipples a dark brown shade, similar in color to refried beans. The pecs quivered on each new breath. However, there was no navel.

 

This can’t be happening.

 

She raised her face.

 

The smoke broke apart, floated to the ceiling, and disappeared.

 

Leaving a thirtysomething man standing before her.

 

He opened his lushly lashed eyes.

 

Her breath caught. His irises were closer to gold than hazel, his shoulder-length brown hair thick and wavy, stubble outrageously sexy, mouth sensuous, one dark eyebrow arched at her.

 

He planted his hands on his lean hips.

 

Holy fuck. A gladiator couldn’t have owned more muscles, though they weren’t overdone like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s, but totally male.

 

Her pussy creamed.

 

An odd reaction since this couldn’t be real.

 

When the knob flew off the bottle, it must have ricocheted off the wall and hit her head, causing her to hallucinate this, or rather, him.

 

Only one way to find out. She grabbed his calf. Its brawn and heat made her ears buzz.

Grinning lewdly, he flexed his muscles and pressed into her touch.

 

This was no dream. She snatched back her hand. “Who-who-who-who—” She shivered so badly, she couldn’t speak, but had to. “Who are you? What are you?”

 

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He lifted his chin. “You, a mere woman, dare to question or demand anything from me?”

 

“Huh?” Not liking his sexist attitude, she scrambled to her feet. At five-seven, she couldn’t match his height. By her guestimate, he topped out at six-four and was the most perfect man she’d ever seen, except for his patronizing gaze. Precisely what she didn’t need. “Again, who or what are you? This is my place. My kitchen. Not yours. Answer me.”

 

“I answer only to my master. Go on.” He gestured her away as Antonini had. “Fetch the man in charge.”

 

As if. Before she could slug him, he pivoted and regarded her kitchen warily, as a one-percenter would, seeing only how small and simple it was.

 

She couldn’t have cared less if he found her digs lacking.

 

He next focused on her buñuelos.

 

If he gave them a pissy look or said one unkind thing about her cooking, he wasn’t long for this world, even if she didn’t know how to off him.

 

Bent at the waist, he sniffed the treats and licked his lips.

 

Growling sounded.

 

His stomach?

 

Holding one buñuelo between his thumb and forefinger, he examined the fried dough carefully, licked the contours, then popped the treat into his mouth. As he chewed, his lids slid down and he moaned the way guys do during orgasms.

 

 

 

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Book Blitz: Confessions of a Sex Kitten by Mila Rossi #RomanceBooks #NewRelease #bookblitz

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Confessions of a Sex Kitten
Mila Rossi
Publication date: August 30th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Striving to be the sex kitten Avery Taylor portrays on her blog is a lot harder than she imagined, but having a hot, new neighbor move in next door sure gets her imagination going. His green eyes alone would give a girl the vapors. And yet, getting involved with someone so close just isn’t in the cards for Avery, even if her inner kitten is telling her that all rules are meant to be broken once. Or twice. Or as many times as it takes to get familiar with James’s one billion abs.

James Mardin moves to NYC to focus on family and work. Quirky Avery just plops into his life out of nowhere. She’s the last thing he needs, and yet, he can’t seem to stay away from the damsel down the hall, especially after he stumbles upon her secret blog. A sexy goofball lusting after him? It just wouldn’t be proper if he didn’t make her fantasies come true.

With views to die for, neighborly favors to return, and secrets to uncover, James and Avery are in for a treat. The attraction is evident, but is it enough to get them through snarky family remarks, burning buildings, and the heat of a typical New York summer?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

She walked into her bedroom, kicked off her shoes, and removed her earrings before starting to take off her dress. As she contorted every way possible to reach the zipper in the back, her eyes locked on her neighbor watching TV in the dark. She continued fiddling with her dress, not thinking much of James lounging in his chair, seemingly absorbed in whatever show or movie he was watching, when the light from his television illuminated his bare chest and abs, rising and falling in rapid succession.

She forgot about her dress now hanging down to her hips, and squinted in concentration, trying to get a better look. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned and hung loosely at his sides, while his rolled-up sleeves revealed those forearms she always stared at. What really got her attention though, was the fact that he seemed to be panting.

What in heaven’s name is he doing?

Except for one bare leg, the rest of him was hidden by the television. And then it hit her. He was masturbating, probably to porn. Her pulse started to race and her palms got sweaty as she watched the dark fuzz on his chest and abs move up and down in perfect rhythm. Not even a fire alarm going off could have chased her away from the window, but what could, was James turning his head and locking eyes with her across the distance.

  1. MY. GOD!

She had a split second to give him the courtesy of a blush before she tried to bolt from the window, tripped over her cat, and crashed to the floor with much humiliating noise as her flailing hands knocked over the night lamp. For the next couple of minutes, she remained spread out on the floor like a flattened pancake. The throbbing in her ears turned out to be her heartbeat and her lungs seemed devoid of air as she inhaled deeply, wincing at the pain in her ribs. Roger thankfully seemed unfazed by the fiasco and sat in the corner, licking his tiny jewels.

A knock at the door made her head snap around so quickly, she almost caused further injury to herself.

“Who is it?” she shouted in the most casual voice she could pull off.

“It’s me,” a deep, husky voice replied.

Great, first he catches me spying on him and now this.

“What’s up?”

“Are you alright? I heard a loud noise.”

“No shit,” she mumbled to herself, staring at the ceiling. “I’m fine, thanks!”

“Can you open the door?”

Her eyes darted in his direction.

“Um, I’m getting ready to go to bed.”

“I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, James. Go back to your…apartment.” She’d almost told him to go back to jerking off.

“Open up, Avery, so I can have a look for myself. You looked like you crashed pretty hard.”

Great, so he’d seen her. Good grief.

She shifted with a groan, but managed to pick herself up and head for the door. She stuck her arms through the sleeves of her dress, but didn’t bother with the zipper in the back.

“All fine,” she said, opening the door just a crack to smile at him. Her expression froze as she gaped at his body still displayed in all its glory, except now he wore pants. She had to summon all her control not to run her hands over the hair covering his chest, leading down into his pants.

“Avery,” James said, getting her attention.

She blinked rapidly and looked up at him. “Hm?”

He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

“What are you doing?” she asked alarmed.

“Making sure you’re still in one piece.”

He closed the door and turned her every which way to see if she was bleeding, at least that’s what she assumed he was doing. She winced when his hand ran over her left side and he looked at her concerned.

“You’re hurt.”

“No, I’m not. Nothing a drink or some medicine won’t cure. Maybe both together,” she grumbled as an afterthought.

He looked like he didn’t believe her.

“I’m fine,” she repeated, doing a mini-dance. “See? All good. Now go back home and let me get some sleep.”

He touched her side again and she winced once more.

“What the hell are you doing?” she gritted.

“Proving that you’re a liar.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the sofa. “Sit.”

She gave him an annoyed look.

“Sit, Avery, before I’ll make you.”

“Fine.” She plopped down.

He knelt before her and touched her ribs gingerly, watching for her reaction. “Can you lift your arm?”

She did so and gave him an I-told-you-so look.

“Can you bend side to side?”

She did and felt a tug. “It hurts a little, but not much. I can manage.”

“Good. Then nothing’s broken.”

Her eyes lowered to his hands wrapped around her waist. Her skin was on fire at his touch, even through the fabric of her dress. If this was how her body responded now, she wondered what it’d feel like without any barriers.

His hand slid along her side in what felt decidedly like a caress. “Be more careful next time.”

Confused she stared into his eyes, mere inches from her. “With what?”

“Your choice of entertainment.”

She felt herself blush to the very roots of her hair and cleared her throat. “I didn’t see anything.”

He held her gaze and tightened his grip on her, causing her breath to hitch. “Yes, you did. And you liked it.”

 

Author Bio:

Mila Rossi is a contemporary romance author who writes feel-good stories – no angst here. She creates heroines who don’t back down, stand up for themselves and insist on freedom and independence until the right man comes along. Then all rules are thrown out the window. The heroes must be clever, generous and able to throw a girl over their shoulder.

Mila has seen the world and loves to write about it. She also loves to paint vintage anime characters, belly dance, try new foods and perfect her archery skills. She wishes she could partake in extreme sports but only allows her characters to tempt fate. Her own chances of causing disasters are just too high.

Mila also writes historical romance under the name Alice Lake.

Website / Pinterest / Goodreads

 

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Dreams and Lovers (Duet) by Willa Okati #boxset #PNR #GayRomance @willaokati @changelingpress

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

What if saying goodbye to all you ever thought you were sure of is only the first part of hello?

Lovers, Dreamers, and Me: Tolliver’s buried his life in taking care of his sister and the bookstore his grandmother left him. That doesn’t leave much time for romance. Sarah, his sister, decides to do a little matchmaking. Only her choice is another man, and Tolliver’s not gay! Noble’s not, either, but he is deeply attracted to Tolliver, and he’s not above using his psychic gifts to draw them together. The road to discovery has more twists and turns — and toys — than even he ever dreamed.

The First Hello: Shawn Tillerman thinks he’s losing his mind. Wary and damaged after a hard life filled with broken promises, he’s been having flashes of lives he didn’t live. He hasn’t told anyone what’s happening to him — he’s too busy keeping his twin sister away from Oxy. If he can sell the house he’s inherited, he can turn their lives around. Or not. Because Raleigh, the compelling stranger who wants their house, swears Shawn’s reliving memories. That he’s the man from Shawn’s dreams. Shawn doesn’t believe Raleigh — but he’s beginning to wish he could.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

Also Available in Print

 

or Pre-Order at retailers for September 6th

   

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Willa Okati
Excerpt from Lovers, Dreamers and Me

It wasn’t love at first sight.

Sarah, Tolliver’s kid sister, saw him first. Perched on the Old Curiosity checkout counter doing her homework, she swung her heels and nudged Tolliver with the toe of her sneaker. “Incoming customer.”

Tolliver reluctantly turned away from the page of the old book he’d been halfway through, its faded type and strange serifs tempting him back in. “I got it. Keep working.” He closed the book and lifted his chin in the customer’s direction, his eyes still on the book’s worn leather cover. “Can I help you?”

“Hope so,” the man said, his voice a deep, melodious tenor that shaded toward baritone. “I was told you might have some hard to find tarot decks in stock. There’s one, a local artist — Judy Schuyler. She did an abstract Impressionism set. Do you have that deck?”

“We might have sold hers,” Tolliver said, not really paying attention to the guy and registering no more than a vague impression of height, tousled brown hair, and bare arms. He kept one eye on the flyleaf of the 1891 edition of Great Expectations, pencil poised to sketch his reseller’s price. Amazing. He almost wanted to keep this one for himself.

“Can you check?” The customer was persistent, and patiently unruffled. “Maybe for Sharice Donough, too? She’s not local, but she did a mountain music inspired. There’s a stringed instrument on the front –”

“Right. It was a mandolin, I think?” He’d caught Tolliver’s attention at last. Tolliver reached for an inventory log, still kept on paper for the most part — he was a traditionalist — and started flipping through pages. “I’d swear I remember getting one of those last year. Wait. Do you mean the Wisconsin Sharice or the Montauk Falls Donough?”

Tolliver’s fingers slipped on the light-lead pencil he held and sent it clattering to the floor. “Sorry, let me get that.”

“No problem,” the customer answered, his stance relaxed. “I’m not in a rush.”

Tolliver crouched, scanning the flotsam and jetsam he kept stashed under the old four legged breakfront he used as a checkout counter. “Did you check in the glass cases on the back wall?” he called. “Ha. There you are.” The pencil had come to a stop halfway in, halfway out of the desk’s boundaries.

“Hang on, I think I see it.” The tip of a sneaker, encasing a foot of amazing length, prodded the pencil. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

Tolliver had reached for the pencil at the same time. Together, they sent it skittering across the shop floor.

“I’ve got it,” the customer said, rich amusement lacing his tone. He crouched. “Do you always work this hard for this little?”

“I pay attention to detail,” Tolliver replied, slightly annoyed. He caught a glimpse of long, tapered fingers with solid knuckles snaffling the pencil.

He stood, brushing the layer of dust he’d acquired down there off the knees of his khakis and reached, still not looking, for the pencil. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” The customer tipped his head to one side and studied Tolliver. Tolliver noticed, sort of, the lionlike amber of his eyes and the generous width of a smile over white teeth. “The Schuyler?”

“Back wall, glass case,” Tolliver said, already drawn back to the Dickens. He ran his fingers reverently over the binding. Ruined from years of handling, but a piece of history all the same. “What you see is what we’ve got. If it’s not there, sorry, you’re out of luck.”

The customer laughed, low and rolling.

Tolliver frowned up at him over the book. “What?”

“It’s nothing.” The customer swung around, loose limbed and graceful, and tossed a casual wave at him.

“No, what?” Tolliver held his pencil point down on the counter. “Share the joke.”

The customer shrugged and half turned, the leonine cast to his features shadowed. “I’d heard the owner of Old Curiosity was cranky, but it was still worth shopping here. You never know what you’re going to find.” His grin was still bright. “Back wall?”

“Back wall,” Tolliver confirmed, frowning. He kept an eye on the customer as the man ambled away, long feet, lengthy stretch of legs, and arms held loosely comfortable at his sides, thumbs tucked into his belt loops.

Weird guy.

So, no. Not love at first sight.

Intrigue, though. That was part of it.

More from Willa at Changeling Press …

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

You can reach Willa at willaokati@gmail.com.

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

 

 

 

Technical Difficulties by Emily Carrington #ActionAdventure #PNR #UrbanFantasy #interracial #LGBTQ @CarringtonEmily @changelingpress

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

 

Sonya is straight. She’s also terrified of werewolves. So, when she’s forced to work with a male-to-female transgender wolf, the last thing she expects is to fall in love. But, hey, not so fast. Falling in love with a werewolf means living in her pack, where first-time sex equals mating. For life.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

 

or Pre-Order at retailers for September 6th

   

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

The dragon had been brutalized. As Medical Technician Sonya Johnson worked over the corpse, she couldn’t miss the signs. The poor dragon-in-human-guise was female. She’d given birth recently. Her distended stomach, open cervix, and other signs all bore witness to this.

Sonya whispered, “I think you were dead when most of these were inflicted.” She’d quickly discovered the cause of death: a crushed skull that had occurred while the dragon was in human form. Now all she wanted was to be done chronicling the postmortem atrocities and see to it that the poor soul had a decent burial.

Sonya smiled just a little. Thinking of any dragon as a “poor soul” was a little like calling a lion a kitty cat. Dragons, like werewolves, she thought with a shudder, were known for taking care of themselves. Both apex predators of the magical world, for slightly different reasons, they were treated with respect and almost obsessive politeness by other magical beings and the few humans unlucky enough to know about their existence.

“Humans like me.” Her smile was gone as she finished cataloging the last injury. Shaking her head, Sonya covered the body with a sheet and left the autopsy room. She locked the door before heading into her office.

All right, so it wasn’t technically “her” office any more than the autopsy room belonged to her. But she thought of both as her property because she spent more time in them than anyone else. That was thanks to the doctoral-level degree she was seeking from SearchLight Academy in Reptilian Magical Creatures: Treatment and Dissection. Unlike those who studied humans, magical creature experts were expected to have a wider knowledge base. The closest comparison Sonya could make was a general-practice physician. And even they weren’t responsible for both the living and the dead.

She had just finished her second year of postgraduate work. It was May. She had a blissful ten weeks off for the summer. Of course, she was still expected to work on her dissertation, so “rest” wasn’t in her vocabulary. But she wouldn’t be attending biweekly meetings with this or that professor to discuss her research. She might even have considered a week away from the city of Tampa, where she worked, and its lesser cousin, the city of St. Petersburg, where she lived. But she hadn’t scheduled any time off because she’d been too fixated on her dissertation to think beyond the next few days.

Someone knocked on the office door. Not closed completely and made of a light pressboard, the door opened a little more. Sonya caught sight of a skirt in a bold print and a tapered shoe. She called, “Come in.”

A woman stepped inside, saying simply “Sorry to disturb you” — and Sonya’s mind went sideways. Not because there was anything particularly wrong with the voice. It was just that she wasn’t used to hearing a slightly male-sounding voice coming out of a woman’s body.

Transgender. That’s what they call themselves. And, on the heels of that, I hate it when someone says “they” about my people so I will not start out by thinking of this person as a part of “they.” She’s dressed as a woman. I’ll call her “her.”

“Um,” she said uncomfortably, “you’re not. Please sit down.”

The transgender person — the woman, Sonya scolded herself — didn’t sit. Neither did she shut the door. “Thanks, but…” She looked briefly discomfited. “I’m Agent Brown. Maxine.”

That surely wasn’t the name you were born with. Oh, shut the fuck up! She doesn’t want you staring, and you will get over yourself.

Sonya realized Maxine was waiting for a response. Her small, delicate and frankly attractive nose was turning slightly red, just like Sonya’s did when she was embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said, rising and extending her hand. “I’m Sonya Johnson, one of the medical techs.”

The moment their hands touched, the hair on the back of Sonya’s neck stood up. She pulled back rather quickly. “Um… um…” She looked away from the hand she’d shaken and into eyes that were startling in their beauty. Honey-brown and shadowed by long, thick lashes, they took Sonya’s breath away. She forgot for a moment that her neck was prickling and smiled. “How may I help you?”

Maxine, who had taken a step forward to grip Sonya’s hand, retreated at least that far. “Agent Wellington wants to see you when it’s convenient.” She hesitated before adding, “He’s the head of Werewolf Watch.”

Sonya shivered. She couldn’t help herself. She hated werewolves. They were the craziest, most terrifying — Oh, get ahold of yourself. If you’re being called, you specifically… She met Maxine’s eyes. “You are looking for me, right? Because Jenny Davis could –”

“I’m sorry. He wants you personally.” She really did look empathetic. “If it helps, it will just be him, you, and me in a large conference room.”

Sonya’s particular skills were needed. She specialized in dragons and basilisks. What could she possibly do for a werewolf? Because Wellington had to be a werewolf. Unlike in the Department of Dragons, with which Sonya worked on a regular basis, Werewolf Watch was stuffed to capacity with, well, what else? Werewolves.

Shit. That probably means this woman is a werewolf. She looked directly into Maxine’s eyes, needing to know. “You’re a werewolf too?”

Maxine nodded. “Agent Wellington said to tell you he understands your circumstances, whatever those are, and that he wouldn’t call for you unless it was absolutely necessary. He also promises you can have a large conference room and it will only be the three of us; Agent Wellington, you, and me. We want to make you as comfortable as possible.”

Whatever those are. She doesn’t know. Sonya felt a little better. “Can he give me fifteen minutes to… to…” She glanced down at her report. To finish my work flashed across her mind, but it would take at least two hours to do that.

“I’ll tell him you’ll be up in thirty,” Maxine said gently.

Feeling a little more comforted, Sonya said, “Thank you. I’ll be up soon.”

Maxine left, closing the door behind her. Black, like me. But transgender and werewolf. The three modifiers to the name Agent Maxine Brown hit one right after the other. Sonya sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands. If she was going to have a prayer of working with werewolves…

More from Emily at Changeling Press …

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires.

Website: http://emilycarrington.com

Blog:http://goodreads.com/author/show/4619715.Emily_Carrington