The Case of the Deadly Arrow Part 2 by Stephanie Burke #ActionAdventure #PNR #UrbanFantasy #interracial @Flashycat @changelingpress

Posted on August 30, 2019 by JessicaS

The Case of the Deadly Arrow Part 2 (Mai-Fly Mysteries 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Mai becomes trapped in a deadly game with an assassin as she tries to get rid of the riots on her doorstep and understand the beast within her, with the intimate help of a Dryad named Ptris. Can she maintain her relationship with her Gremlin Ry-Ry and uncover the mysteries of the deadly arrows before one of them hits their target?

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order at retailers for September 6th

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“So… I take that to mean that someone is trying to kill me… outside of being mad about the riots.” They had untangled themselves from the massive people pile on the floor and Mai was now staring at the flaming arrow in her television set.

“Well, I never liked to watch much TV anyway,” she muttered, grateful that the sparking and hissing had stopped. “Ry will be devastated. What’s he going to watch soccer on now?”

In truth, Mai was shaken. A lot of really bad things had just happened to her in a really short amount of time. She was standing there calmly taking about current events in her life when in actuality, she wanted to hide someplace, preferably with a bottle of rum and a dangerous but sweet, hard-to-kill Gremlin. So… seeing that none of these things were possible right now, Mai was stuck trying to hold it together with two detectives, a Dryad, and an Asshole staring at her like she was going crazy.

“It’s football,” Ptris finally spoke as he moved beside her and placed one heavy hand on her shoulder. “Americans don’t have to take everything they see and rebrand it. It’s football because you pass the ball around with your feet.”

Maria was snapping photos and The Asshole was sitting in a chair, looking like she really would rather be someplace else.

“Football is a man’s sport,” Evan countered, moving to Mai’s other side, his calmness seeming to Mai to be a bit unnatural. “Full-out gladiator blood sport that is dangerous, exciting, and fun.”

“That would be rugby,” Ptris corrected, “If you are claiming human sports. No pads, blood and grit, a man’s game to be sure.”

“Human games?” Mai asked, having a feeling she was going to regret that question, but anything was better than staring at the fucking flaming arrow stuck in her TV. She pulled her attention away from near sudden death and turned it on her Dryad. He was talking about sports right now… If this was a ploy to stop her from thinking about her burning, painful near-death, it was working. Oddly enough, she had to know more.

“We had a game played in the Unseelie Courts, Blashavah.”

“Blashavah?” Evan snorted. “Sounds like an exotic rash.”

“It is a time-honored game of endurance and perseverance. The players, seven on each team and five teams in total, strip down to their skin. They pummel each other with blunted pikes to be the first to capture a Shavah, a venomous rabid female miniature dragonling that is bespelled not to fly higher than ten feet. But as it is a land dragonling, its preferred method of escape is to burrow into any hole it finds, including holes in live bodies. The first team to capture the creature with the most mobile players at the end wins.”

Evan looked interested. Mai felt sick. Ptris stood there, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“You are making that up,” Mai finally accused, narrowing her eyes at the Dryad. “No way…”

“It is a violent and very exciting game,” Ptris defended.

“That sounds interesting,” Evan finally spoke, his eyes lit with the fire of a new blood sport. “How often do they play?”

“Usually during festivals, feasts, fetes, and before important political discussions with other courts in the realms. It is a celebration of life and a show of strength to those leaders watching.”

“A glimpse of an army and a taste of what they are capable of before you decide to go to battle.” Evan pursed his lips while nodding his head. “Slick. I bet that prevented a whole lot of wars.”

“Or at least made those hungry for the taste of blood and steel to reevaluate their decisions and act wisely and accordingly.”

“And they are completely naked?” Mai wrinkled her nose. “Everything just… hanging out? No protection at all?”

“It keeps the players attentive and cooperative. They must watch each other’s flanks as well as fight for the goal.”

“Cooperation and comparative skills building, Mai. We should adopt something similar before every meeting with other competitive countries. Give them something to think about instead of sending young people off to war while they sit in air conditioned offices calling the shots.”

“But… naked?” Mai could not get that picture out of her head. There were too many dangly parts on men and women to be running around on a field, dodging spears and trying to capture a slurping, poisonous lizard that could fly and liked to hide in holes. She looked down at her boobs and shook her head. No fucking way. The pain alone would bring her to her knees.

“Well, they are allowed gloves.”

“Gloves?” Mai asked, dividing her attention and her incredulous looks between Evan and Ptris.

“You don’t want to lose a finger. If the Shavah bites parts off, it is very hard to reattach them. The best swordsmen maintain all of their fingers. Fae-made digits are fine replacements, but tend to not function as smoothly the digits you are born with.”

“Just the fingers?” Mai had to ask. She had to go there. But there were a lot of dangly parts on a body. “What if something else gets bitten off?”

“Replacements can be made,” Ptris assured her. “It is a mark of honor and courage to have a penis removed in combat. The golden ones they replace them with are said to be better than what the God and Goddess intended and fertility is not affected.”

“I bet John Bobbitt wishes he’d had that option.” Evan chuckled and Mai rolled her eyes. Men. It was a universal thing that their most precious body part was improved upon and they were given honors for being stupid enough to have it bitten off in the first place.

“They replace breasts as well,” Ptris pointed out, and everyone stared at him in silent shock. “Fae warriors are also female, and every other gender besides.”

“Your women fight in active combat and in blood sport games?” Evan looked like he was in awe. Maria, who had finally stopped taking photos and phone calls, looked interested.

“A strong sword at your back holds no gender. That is one thing that always annoyed me about humanity. You leave half of your warriors at home, some even unable to defend themselves, while you go off to war. Your women are just as capable of wholesale slaughter as your men, and in fact, some are more dangerous than your decorated soldiers. And you kill with projectile weapons. Most of your soldiers never see hand-to-hand combat at all. I knew of several human females who could defeat your male fighters without undue stress or increased breathing rates.”

“One for femininity!” Maria gave a little cheer. The Asshole looked a bit more uncomfortable, sulking in a chair and wearing the remains of her hot chocolate.

“We honor our warriors of all genders and species.” Ptris was on a roll. “Which is why I don’t understand humanity’s problem with race. The weather conditions in the place of your ancestors’ origins has no bearing on your ability to function and add to your society as a whole. The way your ancestors’ skin adapted for survival in harsh climes does not affect brain function, ability, heart, strength, nerves, cunning… It is a waste of intelligent brains and capable minds to kill over such a trivial thing. Humans confuse me.”

“They confuse me too,” Mai agreed. “I never understood that.”

“You are Fae,” Ptris summed it up nicely.

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

Blog: https://theflashcat.wordpress.com/

Mysti and Starr by Kate Hill #ActionAdventure #PNR #UrbanFantasy #NewRelease @katehillromance

Posted on August 23, 2019 by JessicaS

Family magic summons Mysti Wild to her destined mate–
a demon hunting biker with secrets of his own.

2914

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

A blazing trail only he can see leads demon hunting biker Starr Johanson to his destined mate. A blessing placed on her family’s ancestral land summons Mysti Wild to the cabin where she’ll meet the man fated to share her life.

Each fears the other will be frightened by magic they don’t understand, but they quickly learn to trust each other, because no one can resist the person they were born to love.

or pre-order for August 30th at retailers

EXCERPT

New Hampshire, 2019

The road Starr traveled wound along the tree-covered mountains. He had been riding for too long and felt almost lulled by the rhythm of the bike. By the look of the darkening sky, he’d need to find a place to camp soon, but he had a little longer to go. He was almost at his destination.

A flash of lightning in the distance prompted him to give the bike more gas. He finally pulled over and walked the bike down a narrow path into the woods. It didn’t look like a manmade path, but it was meant for him. The drizzling rain had turned into a downpour before he found a place to camp.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been alone in the middle of nowhere. Starr liked being on his own sometimes, but he rarely had time for that luxury.

The woods were nearly dark as night now, except for blinding flashes of lightning. Starr was thoroughly soaked from rain and had been nearly deafened by thunder. Storms always seemed worse in the mountains. He hurried to unpack his meager equipment.

Lightning flashed and a nearby tree crashed to the ground. Starr’s heart pounded and he backed away fast. That was too close for —

Starr slipped and tumbled down a rocky, leaf-strewn decline. For several seconds he could only grunt and try to roll with the fall. He landed on his stomach, the wind momentarily knocked out of him. He tasted blood and spat a mouthful while pushing himself to his hands and knees. From what he could tell, he had cuts and bruises, but no breaks.

Blinded by rain and wind, he glanced around, dazed. He started climbing up the slippery incline, but fell again. Maybe it was an optical illusion, but he thought a path led off to his left. Starr tried to calm his mind and listen for guidance. Instinct told him to try the path, illusion or not, and he had long ago learned to listen to his instincts.

He took a step and his ankle nearly buckled.

Great.

He pushed forward as quickly and carefully as he could with a sprained ankle.
Something too warm for rain trickled down the back of his neck. He swiped it and looked at his bloodstained hand. Rain pelted it, diluting the blood. Dragging his hand along his denim-clad thigh, he limped on.

Squinting through the storm, he noticed a clearing in the distance, surrounding a lake or bay.

“Hey!”

That wasn’t a spirit voice, but human.

“Hey, you! Dude!”

Starr turned and saw a woman approaching. She wore a yellow fisherman-style raincoat and hat that left half her face in shadow.

She approached and Starr hobbled toward her.

“Hi,” he said. When she tilted her amber gaze to his, Starr’s heart skipped a beat.
He smiled faintly.

So she’s why I’m here.

Still staring at him, she swallowed and drew a deep breath through parted lips.
“We’d better get inside before we get struck or something,” she said, glancing around and jumping a bit when sheet lighting illuminated the woods.

“Inside where?” Starr demanded.

“My cabin. This way.” She left at a run and Starr hopped after her. Pain shot through his ankle and up his leg with every step.

The woman turned, looking frustrated, and ran back to him. “Sorry. You’re hurt. The cabin is right up there. Shit!” She jumped again when more lightning struck.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll catch up.”

“Lean on me.” She stepped closer, wedging her firm little body against his and wrapping an arm snugly around his waist. He draped his arm over her shoulder and she said, “Let’s go.”

Hopping on one foot was easier with her to steady him. Before Starr knew it, they’d reached the cabin. It was warm from the fire burning in the living room hearth. To his right was a pantry and kitchen and to his left a wooden staircase leading to a loft.

“Come and sit,” she said, slipping away from him to remove her hat and coat and hang them on a nearby hook. “I’ll get my first aid kit.”

Starr took off his jacket and hung it on another hook before limping to the couch. It was soft and covered with a plaid quilt. Soaked and bleeding as he was, he’d mess it up.

“Why are you still standing?” she asked, approaching with towels and a first aid kit.
She was cute. No makeup. Big amber eyes. A longish nose and lips that he already wanted to kiss. Her dark, curly hair was tied in a loose bun on top of her head.

“I’m wet and bleeding,” Starr said, again reaching for the back of his neck where blood still trickled steadily.

“Which is why you need to sit your butt down. Now.”

She was sort of bossy, and that could be both fun and annoying. Starr did what she told him and asked, “What’s your name?”

It was almost stupid, that he didn’t know her name, but he knew she was meant for him.

“Mysti,” she said, snapping on plastic gloves and standing over him to inspect the back of his head. “And yours?”

“Starr.”

She smiled. “Is that your real name?”

“Yeah, it’s my real name. Is Mysti yours?”

“I wasn’t trying to be a smartass. You have a nasty cut right behind your ear.” Mysti pressed a towel to the spot. “Hold that so I can check out your ankle.”

“It’s probably just a — ah. Fuck!”

She’d yanked his boot off, shooting pain up his leg.

“Sorry,” Mysti said, placing his boot aside and gently touching his ankle. “This is seriously swollen. I’ve got ice. What happened to you?”

He curled his lip in annoyance and embarrassment. “I slipped on wet leaves and rolled down a hill.”

“Other than your ankle, do you think you broke anything or have a concussion?”

“No. I’m fine. Clumsy, that’s all.”

“My truck is parked around back. Do you think you need to go to the ER right now?”

More sheet lighting flashed outside the window across the room.

“Hell no,” he said.

“Okay. When this storm passes I’ll take you to get checked out. Be right back with the ice.” Mysti stood, and Starr glanced after her, noting that she was small but curvy.

Despite being distracted by the storm and his ankle, Starr hadn’t missed how good she’d felt, pressed against him when she’d helped him back to the house.

He was pissed that he’d been injured for their introduction. So much for how he’d imagined them meeting — maybe with him sweeping her off her feet and riding into the sunset with her on the back of his bike.

Sometimes Starr thought his family was right. He was a certifiable dreamer.

That was fine, though. It had gotten him this far.

Kate Hill (Also writing as Saloni Quinby)

Always a fan of romance and the paranormal, I started writing over twenty years ago. My first story was accepted for publication in 1996. Since then I’ve written over one hundred short stories, novellas and novels. I love to blend genres. I also love horror and a happily ever after, so if you’re looking for romance with witches, aliens, vampires, angels, demons, shapeshifters and more, there’s a good chance you’ll find something to your taste here.

When I’m not writing, I enjoy reading, watching horror and action movies, working out and spending time with my family and pets. I love hearing from readers, so feel free to leave a comment at my blog or connect with me on Twitter.

Website: http://www.kate-hill.com/

Blog: https://kate-hill.com/blog/

Sir Spanksalot by Alice Gaines #PNR #RomCom #scifi #NewRelease

Posted on August 23, 2019 by JessicaS

Transported into her favorite game, SexScape, Maddy
meets a sexy devil named Sir Spanksalot. Really.

2913

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

Maddy’s “career” is in personal injury law, representing plaintiffs in silly lawsuits. To escape, she plays SexScape on her tablet computer. One night, after winning a particularly difficult level, she finds herself whooshed into the game itself and confronted by an indecently attractive man who claims his name is Sir Spanksalot. Spanking is not her thing, but blazing hot sex with Spanksalot is.

Spanksalot is sure The League has chosen this difficult but seductive woman to be his mate. Only two problems — she seems to be in love with a man named Samuel. And she has a hang-up about his specialty, spanking. Turns out Samuel is Maddy’s fantasy lover and no threat to Spanksalot. When Maddy discovers the fun of having her bottom gently paddled, the two of them become a match made in SexScape.

or pre-order at retailers for August 30th

EXCERPT

Maddy’s game had a new character. She’d played SexScape long enough to hate the little guy with the crown zipping around on his motorcycle. He’d lost her more levels than she could remember, and if she ever got a chance to blast him with some evil weapon, she’d do it in a heartbeat. Only nothing she’d tried had worked on him yet, and she could scream obscenities at him all she wanted. He just kept showing up in the very worst parts of the display at the very worst times and ruining her shots.

But this morning, just as he’d started up with his mind-fuck, someone else had shown up. A woman, also tiny and also wearing a crown. The color of her motorcycle matched her outfit — fire-engine red. She did battle with the man — zigging when he zagged and replacing the tiles he’d destroyed so they arranged themselves in neat patterns that Maddy could fell with one or two moves.

“You go, sister,” Maddy cheered her hero on. For a while, she simply sat and watched the two perform their motorized dance from one side of the screen of her tablet to the other. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Maddy couldn’t tear herself away even though it meant being late for work… again. This was too fabulous to miss.

Then, the two of them went to opposite corners. The bikes engines revved, and they flew toward each other. When they met in the middle of the screen, a Screaming-O Bomb went off, and Maddy won level 1023.

Then the room began to spin around her as she fell into a dark tunnel. Nothingness closed around her — an almost complete lack of sensation. She was floating with no sense of up or down, backward or forward. Could the game have done this to her, or was she dreaming? If so, how could she wake herself up? She was supposed to do something, but what? Work, damn it. She was supposed to be at work.

Finally, a light showed in the distance, and she got a sense of direction. She was headed toward it. As it enlarged, she got a view of a landscape. Pretty. No, beautiful. Trees and grasses and sunlight. Warm. She could do worse than end up there, wherever there was.

When the dream or voyage ended, Maddy found herself on her ass in a shallow stream. All around her, tall trees of a kind she’d never seen before reached toward a cloudless sky. Pretty place, but the water wasn’t exactly a spa. More like a refrigerator.

She scrambled to get up, but the stones at the bottom of the stream were slick with water and moss, so she only ended up on her ass once more. Rather than try that exact maneuver again, she used her hands to push herself up and skittered on all fours to the side of the stream. There she found a flat rock warmed by the sun and took a seat to examine her surroundings.

She’d been here before, even though she’d never been any place like this. That made no sense, but neither did the transition she’d just experienced.

She’d been sitting at the table in the dining room in her apartment playing the stupid game that plagued her when, all of a sudden, whoosh… something had sucked her into the tunnel and dropped her here. Was this her prize for winning the latest diabolical level SexScape had used to torment her for weeks? If so, the reward ought to include some sex, even if imaginary. It wasn’t supposed to be a pleasant walk in the woods. Or cold splash, as the case might be.

Why did this place seem so familiar? An inner-city girl, she’d mostly visited trees in parks either close to home or at the end of a bus line. So, why did it seem she’d wandered beneath these trees along the side of the stream? Being here felt like living inside one of her dreams. Or…

No, not a dream. SexScape. She’d deliberately chosen the wilderness path in the game. She got enough city with constant noise and dirty air in her real life, thank you very much. So, she’d settled on woods and beaches and the occasional mountaintop. Scenery like what surrounded her right now.

Hoofbeats sounded in the distance, rapidly approaching where she sat. She got up from her seat on the rock and glanced around for a place to hide. The horse might be out for a run on its own, or it might have a rider. If she got a look at the person as they passed through, she could decide whether or not to call for help. In any case, discretion won out over valor, and she ducked behind one of the big trees.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the horse and rider showed themselves. But they didn’t dash across the stream to continue on. The rider pulled up the reins, and the horse stopped, breathing hard and stamping a hoof as if impatient to keep going.

The rider — a man wearing a flowing black cape — held the reins tight and glanced all around. Truly, there wasn’t much to see of him because the cape covered him from his neck and over his body. It even draped over the horse’s hindquarters and rump. And the man’s head appeared no more than a shock of platinum hair. Finally, he turned toward her, and she got a brief glance at him before she had to plaster herself against the tree trunk again to hide.

That second or two revealed the most beautiful male face she’d ever laid eyes on. Blue eyes, full lips, and a devil’s smile exposing even white teeth.

“Ah, my lady, why do you hide yourself from me?” he asked.

Maybe he’d seen her, but maybe he hadn’t. She could try to wait him out to see if he’d ride off. She couldn’t try to get away from him. His horse could run her down easily.

“Am I really so frightening?” he said. “Or perhaps you’ve fallen in love with that tree.”

Good question. He didn’t seem dangerous, maybe just a little weird with the “my lady’s” and that yards-long cape. Without knowing where she was, especially if she’d fallen into her favorite game, she could use some help figuring out how to get back home. And for now, he appeared to be all the help she had.

She stepped out from behind the tree. “Can you tell me where I am?”

He jumped down and made a sweeping bow, the cape settling around him. “Sir Spanksalot at your service, lady.”

“I didn’t ask who,” she said. “I asked where.”

“You are exactly where you need to be.”

USA Today bestselling author Alice Gaines has published several sensuous and erotic works. She prefers stories that stretch the imagination, highlighting the power of love and sex. Alice has a Ph.D. in psychology from U. C. Berkeley and lives in Oakland, California, with her collection of orchids and her pet corn snake, Casper.

Alice loves to get mail at authoralicegaines@yahoo.com. You can sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/boeGm9.

Night Critters by Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards #boxset #PNR #futuristic #RomCom #UrbanFantasy @changelingpress @Lena_Austin

Posted on August 16, 2019 by JessicaS

Night Critters

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Sahara Kelly

Must Love Dogs: By the mid 21st century, the human population has been decimated, but some still scream over racial purity — and not just among humans. Not only is Roni not a pure werewolf, she’s a crossbreed Chuskie — offspring of a Siberian Husky and a Chihuahua. Corbin is Alpha and heir to Thornburn pack, the richest pack in three states. Who cares if he dates a were-dog? Their parents…

Faux Paws: Lucky Thornburn, a Faux Paws, a shifter-born who can’t shift, meets a fiery Goth half-angel named Charm who’s trouble on the wing. She wants to renovate her mother’s old house into a home for foster children, but Lucky’s cold-hearted brother JR wants the property for a shopping mall. Charm’s not going to give up, and Lucky’s coming right along with her…

Paws to Heal: Two were-dogs welcome the return of their former lover after being enemy packs for so long. Duke, Katriena, and Eduardo must pause to heal the breach and bring the were-canines and lupines together.

Bad Fur Day: Staci Thornburn is determined to get an interview with the new Chinese UNESCO Ambassador, but Jiao Long, a Foo Dog-Dragon cross, is more than a little irritated. It’s a good thing dragons are fireproof, because things are about to get hot!

Santa Paws: JR Thornton seeks redemption by dressing up in a Santa suit to deliver gifts to an orphanage, but the angry wood fairy guarding the house is more interested in blowing his head off. Phaedra’s determined to give JR a piece of her mind. So why does she want so badly to sit in Santa’s lap?

Publisher’s Note: Night Critters (Box Set) contains the previously released novellas Must Love Dogs, Faux Paws, Paws to Heal, Bad Fur Day, and Santa Paws.

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order at retailers for August 23rd

Praise for Must Love Dogs “Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards have created a humorous canine version of Romeo & Juliet… The chemistry was perfectly blended; the characters were strong and overall helped create a marvelously written book.”

5 Angels! — NeNe, Fallen Angels Reviews

Praise for Faux Paws “Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards have produced another hilarious tale pairing unique critters together in a very enjoyable saga.”

4.5 Nymphs! — Chocolate Minx, Literary Nymphs

Praise for Paws to Heal “Paws to Heal is a glimpse into the history of the characters featured in the first book in the Night Critters series. In this installment, the fabulous Lena Austin delivers an erotic love scene hot enough to give you a Heat Stroke.”

5 Nymphs! — Chocolate Minx, Literary Nymphs

Praise for Bad Fur Day “The sex is good but the story was even better. You can always count on Austin and Richards for some “get me some iced tea, I’m on fire” sensuality.”

4 Tombstones! — Kate, Bitten by Books

Praise for Santa Paws “Lena Austin brings to life these two characters in her short story Santa Paws. Bringing Christmas to the readers and showing them that just about every evil deed can be turned to good, given the right incentive. Many readers will enjoy this short story that shows just what Christmas can be all about, at least to the magical creatures of the world.”

— Stacy Link, PNR Reviews

Schoolboy Blues by Kiernan Kelly #ContemporaryRomance #NewRelease #GayRomance #LGBTbooks #RockStar @changelingpress @KiernanKelly

Posted on August 16, 2019 by JessicaS

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox

Once best friends, Angelo and Vincent parted after a night of hot passion and conflicting emotions.

Rock star Angelo knows a good thing when he’s got it, and what he has on stage with his band now is as good as it gets. He clings to that knowledge during the times when he longs for the warmth of a lover in his heart and his bed.

Vincent has grown adept at ducking his mother’s probing questions about grandbabies, while dedicating his life to nailing perps to the jailhouse wall in criminal court. His family and his career bring him satisfaction, but he dares not pursue a relationship that would complete his life.

Could the music that led to their parting a decade ago be the bond that brings these two lovers back together again?

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order for August 23rd

Praise for School Boy Blues (Set in Stone)

“If you like rock stars and tough prosecutors who share a weak spot for each other, if you enjoy the “magic” of the 1970s, and if you’re looking for a read that is as short as it is hot, occasionally funny, and just a little suspenseful toward the end, then you will probably like this novella.”

— Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews

Rush groaned, and banged his phone against his forehead a few times in frustration. It would leave a mark, but he didn’t care. Stage makeup was very forgiving. “Fine. We’ll do it, but no interviews. Nobody backstage. No VIPs, no reporters, no fans, nada. I mean it, Bernie. If I hear one fucking question or see one camera, I’ll walk. Understand?”

Bernie’s voice dropped an octave. “Sure, sure. Excellent. I knew you’d see reason. Okay. You fly out on the third, and I’ve booked the band the top floor at the Marriott. The rest of the company will be staying at a Quality Inn. I’ve rented a bus for them, and a limo for you guys. Two shows, Friday and Saturday nights. Any special requests for the hotel rooms or the green room at the Palace?”

“Not from me. Ask the boys what they want.” Rush was done, and just wanted to hang up and go strum his guitar for a while. That always calmed him down, let him think. If he was lucky, the music would flush the sliminess of Bernie’s voice from his ears.

“You got it. It’s going to be an awesome weekend. Ciao.”

Rush hung up without saying good bye. Ciao. As far as Rush knew, Bernie couldn’t even spell ciao. In Bernie’s little pointy head, it was probably spelled “chow.” Bernie didn’t like Italian food, and the closest he’d ever gotten to Italy was when the band dragged his ass to the San Gennaro Feast in Little Italy in New York last September. Pretentious bastard.

He grabbed Cleaver, his acoustic guitar, and flopped on to the sofa in the living room. Cleaver was a sweet maple Gibson he’d bought back in 1962 when he was still in high school, and paid for it with the money he’d made working a paper route. He remembered the first time he saw it hanging in one of the windows at the Woolworths on Main Avenue in Passaic. He thought then it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and still did. Even though he wailed on a Fender onstage, the axe never felt as good in his hands as good ol’ Cleaver did.

There were a lifetime of memories scarring the neck and body. Every nick and scratch had a story to tell. Like the little ding next to the bridge, for example. He remembered exactly how and when it’d been put there — by a carelessly tossed shoe on the night he lost his virginity to Vincenzo Genovese.

A smile lifted his lips even now, as he ran his finger over the dimple in the otherwise smooth wood. God, they’d been so young, their bodies so hard and eager. It’d been over almost as soon as it began, but he could still almost feel the sharpness of his orgasm, how it had ripped through his body like white lightning, searing every part of him. His cock stirred as the old, aching need surfaced again.

And deflated just as quickly as the other memory he associated with Vinnie Genovese surfaced. He rubbed his jaw as if he could still feel Vinnie’s hard fist connecting with it, loosening two teeth.

You were both seventeen, and confused about who you were and what you were feeling. Him more than you. How long are you gonna hold on to that grudge?

Shut up, he told the needling voice in his head. He didn’t want introspection right now. He wanted escape.

Trying to push the negative feelings away, his fingers began to strum the strings. It took several moments before he realized he recognized the tune, although he hadn’t played it in years. It was Schoolboy Blues, the song he’d written for Vinnie. The lyrics came back to him with the melody, and he began to sing, low and sweet.

“Your hands play my body like I play my guitar, drawing out a melody my heart sings; no matter where we are, near or far, I will always love the magic loving you brings.”

He stopped playing, silencing the guitar by pressing his palm over the strings, and ended the song with a wry snort. The lyrics were amateurish, syrupy high school crap, sure, but they still made his throat tighten and brought a curious burning to his eyes.

“Fuck you, Bernie. Why Jersey? Why now?”

Kiernan’s stories of gay romance envelop diverse themes ranging from paranormal to fantasy, and science fiction to contemporary romance. She has fifteen novels currently in print and ebook, and over eighty shorter works available in both mediums. Contrary to popular opinion, she is not a zombie. Yet.

You can find Kiernan on her website at http://www.kiernankelly.com/ or on Facebook or at Cafe Risque http://caferisque.blogspot.com, or you can e-mail the author.

Can’t You Hear Me Knockin’ by Mychael Black #DarkFantasy #NewRelease #GayRomance #LGBT #PNR @changelingpress

Posted on August 16, 2019 by JessicaS

Can't You Hear Me Knocking (Set In Stone Multi-Author 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

When Jacob’s eccentric mentor Malcolm dies, Jacob finds himself falling down the proverbial rabbit hole. Lucid dreams keep him questioning his own sanity. When he meets Christian, things only get stranger.

Is Christian real, or is Malcolm just trying to drive Jacob insane from beyond the grave?

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order at retailers for August 23rd

Praise for Can’t You Hear Me Knocking (Set in Stone) “What a ride! If you like stories with lots of supernatural mystery, if a young man trying to decide what’s real and what’s a dream is your thing, and if you’re looking for a read with twists and turns that might just turn you completely around, then you might like this short story. ”

— Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews

I left the group to their dinner, set the tray on the counter, and tugged out my order book before heading to the next table.

“Hello and welcome to Will’s Bar and Grill,” I stated. I opened up my book and finally looked at the lone diner.

Something about him seemed familiar, though I had no idea why. His light gray eyes drew me in, so much that it took considerable effort to get my brain to function again. I shook my head. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”

He smiled the slightest bit. “Water, please.”

“Any appetizers to start?”

“No, but I’d like to hear your opinion on the steaks.”

No one had asked me that in a long time. Hell, Malcolm had been the first to ever ask at all, five years before he…

No. No way was I heading down that road again.

“The New York Strip is good,” I said.

“But is it your personal favorite?” the man asked, leaning a little, his arms folded on the table in front of him.

“No. Mine is the sirloin.”

He nodded. “The sirloin it is. Rare, please.”

“Sides?”

“Surprise me.”

Okay…

“I’ll have your water out in a moment.”

I tucked my book back into my apron and left his table. I swore I felt his gaze follow me right into the kitchen. After inputting his order into the computer system for the kitchen, I fixed his water. Then I grabbed the steak sauce and ketchup and headed for his table. Instead of observing his surroundings or a cell phone like most people, he stared straight at me. It was unnerving, to say the least.

“Your dinner will be up soon,” I said as I set his water and the condiments down.

“Thank you, Jacob.”

I froze and met his gaze. Something about the way he said my name made every hair stand on end. His tone held a touch of intimacy, of personal knowledge about me, that sent a chill through my body.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered.

Thankfully, another table waved me over. I excused myself and returned to my duties. When his food came out, I asked another server to deliver it on the pretense that I was with a large group.

When he left, I nearly dropped the folder with the check. His bill had only been a hair over twenty bucks, but he’d tucked in a fifty and disappeared.

“So did you get a good tip from Mr. Creepy?” my friend, and fellow server, Ellen asked when I returned to the register to cash out his check.

I held up the fifty and the check.

“Holy shit! What did you do to get that?”

“Fuck if I know,” I said with a shrug. I finished and started my sidework. “Just glad he’s gone. He was weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Ellen replied before she left to do her own sidework.

I got mine done fairly quickly and told her goodnight before heading out. The cool night air helped me relax after a hectic shift. Hands tucked into my light jacket, I walked the two blocks to my apartment building. The city streets had emptied, for the most part, with only a few stragglers here and there. I ignored them and started up the outside steps to the second floor of my building. Another man came down from the landing, and I nearly bumped into him.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Long night.”

“That’s quite all right, Mr. Hewitt.”

I snapped my head up and stared into very familiar gray eyes. “How…”

He smiled. “I am not without my wiles.”

I had nowhere to go, and I didn’t trust this guy as far as I could throw him. I started backing down the steps. No way was I gonna go to my door so he could see which one it was.

“Look, man. I don’t know you. I don’t know what this is about. But I swear to God, if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll call the cops.”

He sighed. “Jacob… come now. Is this any way to treat an old friend?”

“Excuse me?” I blinked and stopped halfway down, still facing him. “I’ve never seen you before tonight!”

“On the contrary, you have,” he said. “But I will leave you be for now. We shall meet again.”

I stumbled out of the way as he passed me. He didn’t look back, and I watched until he rounded a corner nearly a block away. Then, only then, did I run up the steps to my door. The second I got the door unlocked, I practically jumped inside and locked it — including the deadbolt and chain.

“No fucking way,” I muttered, backing away.

A shiver snaked its way up my spine. But a deeper part of me couldn’t help but be intrigued. The guy was handsome. Long pitch black hair, a toned build, and those damned eyes…

Myc has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael. Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC games, reading, editing, watching movies and shows on Netflix and Amazon, or spending way too much time on Facebook.

Switcher’s Rhapsody by Kate Steele #futuristic #ActionAdventure #scifi #aliens #alienencounters #LGBT #GayRomance #NewRelease @Kate27Steele @changelingpress

Posted on August 16, 2019 by JessicaS

Switcher's Rhapsody

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

Tarl Mengs, navigator of the Starship Brizo, never expected his vacation would end with a near crash landing on a backwater planet like Peldar. Resigned to days of boredom while his shuttle is repaired, an unexpected meeting with a cute and sassy Adarian lands Mengs in a world of trouble. It seems Switcher has stolen a prize from a pack of poachers who will do anything to get it back.

Stranded and on the run, Mengs and Switcher face life threatening danger to save a species on the verge of extinction. And that’s the easy part. Who knew wrestling with a budding relationship would be even harder!

Publisher’s Note: Switcher’s Rhapsody takes place in the same world as Kate Steele’s Gimme Shelter (Set in Stone).

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order at retailers for August 23rd

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Mengs took another sip of his drink. The liquor was raw and burned its way down Mengs’ throat. Not exactly top-shelf stuff, it still managed to quench his thirst and complement the food, a local meat and root-vegetable dish he’d chosen for his evening meal. His expectations were again exceeded as the food turned out to be just as tasty as something Kyle, the Brizo’s chef and jack-of-all-trades, could cook up.

Upon emerging from Devenes’ front door earlier in the evening, Mengs had noted the increase of activity on the street. It seemed the town was nocturnal in nature. Storefronts down the way, including the game parlor, were lit up, and a lot more pedestrians were visible on the roadways.

The bar, Similfis, was filling up. The atmosphere was laid-back, the lighting mostly murky but brightened here and there by a few stray beams from overhead. The smell of food drifted in from the doorway to the kitchen located behind the bar. It was underscored by the tang of various liquors, the burn of some kind of organic substance being smoked and the subtle mix of natural musk and artificial fragrances emanating from the men and women who came to eat, drink and socialize.

Unhindered by the lack of bright light, Mengs kept careful watch on the action. So far it was peaceful, but when liquor and various beings mixed, trouble could be no further away than the use of one unfortunate word. Music played over a sometimes-scratchy sounding audio system. No live band here and no room for dancers. Similfis provided the basics. Food and drink, with the emphasis on drink. Anyone wanting other entertainment found it elsewhere.

As Mengs finished his meal and polished off his drink he noted one of the two bartenders headed in his direction. The man carried a bottle. The same one he’d poured Mengs’ drink from. When he reached the table, the man pulled out a chair. He tipped the bottle, refilled Mengs’ glass and set the bottle on the table.

Mengs took a sip of his newly poured drink. “Thanks.”

“Welcome. You’re new around here.”

Mengs set his glass down. “Yep.”

“Gulrian.”

“Yep.”

“Name?”

“Mengs.”

“Similfis.”

“Ah. Owner.”

“Yep.”

Mengs studied the man. The native peoples of Peldar were humanoid, or as close to human as made no difference. Similfis appeared to be somewhere in his mid-forties, a strong-built man with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes were brown, their expression shrewd. Mengs knew he was being sized up.

“Don’t say much, do you?” Similfis asked.

“I don’t know you.”

“Same here, so fair enough. I’d like to know why you came specifically to my place.”

“Recommendation from one of the Fratkin. Said it was a place where there’d be no trouble and I could leave in one piece.”

“Ah. Reputation is everything. I mean to keep mine.”

“I’ve no intention of interfering with that.”

“Happy to hear it. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks.”

A smile played on Mengs’ lips as he watched the man rise from his chair and walk away. He respected a being that took a hands-on approach to business. Similfis was a no-nonsense kinda guy who ran a tight ship. Reminded Mengs of his captain, Zen Ahbramez. Tough and dependable. Mengs leaned back in his chair and relaxed a bit more. Safe bet was nothing untoward would go down here this evening.

As Similfis rounded the end of the bar and took his place behind it, a slim figure ghosted in through the front entrance. Curiosity stirred and Mengs mused. Male? Female? The being kept mostly to the shadows with distance between itself and any other in the bar. Now and then, for only a second or two, it moved close to a patron whose attention was on their companions. He or she drifted in, then slipped away unnoticed.

At one point the being glided through a beam of light. Despite being somewhat hidden by a hood, Mengs caught a glimpse of a fine-boned face. His eyes widened. Male. Adarian. Though there were a few obvious off-worlders here, this was unexpected. What the hell was an Adarian doing on Peldar? Adar was across the galaxy and Adarians, unless they worked a job off-planet, were known for being somewhat insular. Mengs hadn’t noted any ships in orbit, and this young male was dressed like a native.

Though his curiosity was engaged, Mengs forced himself to relax and slump in his chair. If this male were anything like the Brizo’s second-in-command, Serk, he’d be ultra-sensitive to anyone paying him too much mind. Serk claimed his species began their evolution as predators in the jungles of Adar, and no matter how far they were now from their primitive roots, those predatory instincts had remained intact.

Sure enough, the Adarian melted into the shadows and halted his light-footed prowl. Mengs felt the weight of his regard for a brief moment before the Adarian turned away and left the way he came in. Quick, quiet and unremarked.

A slow smile curved Mengs’ lips. Pickpocket. He’d bet his last credit on it. The way the young man drifted from customer to customer, probably taking just a credit chip here and there, not enough to be missed — in, out and gone. Oh yeah. Mengs would bet anything the young Adarian would be counting his take later if he weren’t doing it already. And that thought stole Mengs’ amusement. Why was he here? Why so down-and-out he had to steal to get by?

It was a puzzle Mengs had no pieces he could use to solve. He found unsolvable puzzles annoying. If the opportunity presented itself he just might seek some answers.

Kate’s love of books started from the moment she read those fateful words: run, Spot, run! It took her awhile to discover that she didn’t have to just read and imagine, but that she could also write stories and so here she is writing romance and loving it. Like chocolate – her ultimate favorite food, with pizza running a close second – writing became addictive. Whether it’s paranormal, contemporary or science fiction about werewolves, otherworldly creatures or the average Joe, she can’t get enough.

As for the everyday details, Kate lives in a turn of the century house located in the midst of Indiana farm country, and is kept company by family, along with demanding dogs, contrary cats and a pair of occasionally sweet, and definitely noisy, lovebirds. When not writing, she reads, is an enthusiastic grower of iris, and a fanatic fan of Japanese manga and anime.

Website: http://www.katesteele.com

Like a Thief in the Night by E.D. Parr #GayRomance #NewRelease #LGBT

Posted on August 11, 2019 by JessicaS

Like a Thief in the Night-3DeReader.png

Gorgeous, businessman, Saxon Dearing buys a pied de terre in the city where he works. Only using the place on three nights, he goes home to his beachside house for the rest of the week. At thirty-two, immersed in his work, he doesn’t know he’s lonely until delicious, twenty-five year old Jon Palmer literally drops into his life during a thunderstorm.

Artist Jon struggles to sell his paintings from a tiny studio, and works in a city gallery to pay his rent. As the two men fall in love, Jon can’t overcome the idea his lack of success is a barrier to telling handsome, wealthy Saxon how he feels.

When his boss offers him a dangerous way of making money, Jon must make a choice.

Will he risk telling Saxon he loves him or let his lack of confidence lead him astray and away from the man who loves him, too?

Today we welcome, Saxon Dearing one of the heroes

I’ll make this interview fun…

Saxon, If you were a dessert, what would you be?

(Laughs) A dessert … well I know Jon likes ginger cookies, but that’s not really a dessert, huh? Okay I know, lemon meringue pie, yeah.

What do you do when you need to blow off steam?

If I’m in the city I go to the gym and beat the crap out of a punch bag. If I’m at the beach house, I run on the beach, although I do keep to the wet sand and I like to wear my iPod

What do you look for in a man?

Nothing now I’ve met Jon. He’s perfect for me. I love him. He’s intelligent, creative, good-looking, sexy, sweet … I could go on all day about him.

What is in your refrigerator right now?

In the city, steak, lettuce, cherry tomatoes … a half pack of beer, what else … a red pepper. There’s not that much because Jon and I are going up to the beach house tonight.

What’s on your bedroom floor?

In the city, my old baseball bat, that’s under the bed.

What do you wear in bed?

Depends what I’m doing (smiles) so it ranges from a t-shirt and boxers to nothing … (smiles again) mostly nothing now

Light on or off?

Either, both

Chocolate or vanilla?

Is that for licking off Jon’s abs? Has to be chocolate.

What’s your biggest fear?

Oh, well, I have to think about that for a second. I could say spiders or losing on the stock market but truth is it’s losing Jon’s love. It would break my heart.

What is your most treasured possession?

After the last question … Jon’s not my possession but I treasure him. If it has to be a possession, then it’s a drawing Jon gave me … he’s an artist.

What’s your favorite outfit?

I have some old faded levis and beaten up leather boots that I rely on when I’m not in suits. I usually throw on a t-shirt and my battered leather jacket over the top. I have to wear suits for work. I like my black one best.

What do you like to see Jon dressed in?

Anything he likes, (his eyes mist a little) although I do like him in the tux he wore for our wedding, and in his ripped jeans, because there’s a frayed bit high on his thigh…

Do you have a favorite music track?

My taste and surprisingly Jon’s too, is eclectic. We’re listening to old Coldplay stuff right now … love them.

Tell the readers something you’ve never told anyone before.

(Grins) What? You mean spill a secret? You do. (Takes a deep breath) I have nothing for you, nope not a thing…

We’ll make that the last question. Thanks for visiting. Where are you off to next?

(Smiles) You know that’s another question, right?

We have a story teaser for you from, Like a Thief in the Night

Jon struggled into a sitting position. “What time is it?”

Saxon shook his head. “I don’t know, but maybe nine or ten.” Saxon sat up.

“Hell, not ten please.” Jon leaped from the bed and dashed to his backpack where he snatched a smartphone from the front zipper pocket. He ran his hand through his sleep-ruffled hair. It stood on end at the front. He cast a glance at Saxon. “It’s nine. I start at nine-thirty. I’m sorry, I have to dash.”

“It’s okay. Will I make you a coffee while you dress?”

“Thanks for thinking of me, but I’ll make a cup at the gallery.” He ran into the bathroom and came out moments later in the jeans and sweater Saxon had seen him wearing the night before. He dropped a pair of boots to the floor and zipped up his fly as he pushed bare feet into them.

Saxon gazed at the spectacle. He got out of bed and walked rapidly to the kitchen remembering Jon’s jacket was draped over the back of a chair. He brought it to Jon.

Jon rewarded him with a smile. “Thank you. Is it okay to leave my pajamas in the bathroom?” He slipped his jacket on and grabbed up his backpack.

To Saxon’s surprise and delight, Jon kissed him by the side of his mouth.

“See you tonight. Thank you so much.” He strode to the door, opened it, and left.

Saxon went to the bathroom and picked up Jon’s pajamas. He hung them from a hook on the door and dragged on his robe from the other hook. Jon’s socks lay in a damp bunch on the floor next to the shelf housing towels. His boots must leak. Concern furrowed his brow. He put the socks in the laundry hamper. They can go in the wash. I’ll get coffee first. I’ve missed early trading. Perhaps it doesn’t matter this once. Saxon hummed as he heaped coffee grains into the filter. An unfamiliar deep happiness bubbled in him.

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Paint it Black (Set in Stone) by Julia Talbot #BDSM #DarkFantasy #GayRomance #PNR #LGBT @juliatalbot @changelingpress

Posted on August 9, 2019 by JessicaS

Paint It Black (Set In Stone Multi-Author 5)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Incubus Lemos knows it’s his duty to go to the human realm and collect energy for his master, Rezoth. He knows it, but he doesn’t love it. Lemos would rather stay with Rezoth and serve his overlord in other ways.

Rezoth knows how hard it is to please an elderdemon like himself. When Lemos says he wants that to be his life’s work, Rezoth is willing to give him a try. He’s pleased with the result, but there are other forces at work trying to tear them apart. Will Lemos get what he wants for eternity, or are he and Rezoth destined to fail?

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for August 16th :

Praise for Paint It Black (Set in Stone)

“If you like your terrifying demons to have a sense of humor, if you think they can fall in love just like anyone else, and if you’re looking for an entertaining action/adventure of the supernatural persuasion with a ton of very hot demon-on-demon activity thrown in for good measure, then you will probably enjoy this… I think it’s a blast and then some!”

— Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews

“Come and give me what you have collected, Lemos.” The elderdemon’s voice vibrated through Lemos’ mind and body, as deep and smooth as human caramel treats. Every time Lemos heard it his tail vibrated.

“Yes, Master.” Lemos moved toward the throne that sat in the middle of the echoing hall. Demon realms weren’t all that big on furniture.

Lemos approached his master, kneeling at the foot of the throne. Master Rezoth touched his head, soaking in the energy Lemos had taken into himself during the time he had been gone. As an incubus, he could gather a great deal of sexual heat and hold it inside. When he returned to the demon realm, all Master Rezoth had to do was to transfer the energy to his own huge body, and direct it to various demon enterprises.

“Oh, Lemos. You have done well.” The flow of magick between them made him shudder with joy. “So much.”

He nodded, the horns on his head throbbing, his tail twitching. In true Biblical fashion, he had worked for six days and was resting on the seventh, but in the demon realm, days were far longer than in the human plane. Lemos wanted to really take some time off. He loved humans, with their weird languages and bright world, but he desired nothing but his demon master. Kinda to obsession.

“You have earned a reward,” Rezoth murmured. “What would you like?”

His cock hardened in a wild rush. While demonkind often sported huge horns and wings, their anatomy was very much like a human’s save for the tail if… bigger. That made his job as an incubus much easier because he didn’t have to work as hard at disguising his form. He’d never in all his centuries of existence earned a reward from Rezoth. He wasn’t sure why he was getting one now, but he wasn’t going to waste it. Lemos squirmed on his knees, eager and embarrassed to ask.

“You know better than to ask for your freedom, sweet. So what has you so excited? Is there a human you wish to spend time with?”

“No, Master.” He moved a tiny bit closer to his master, his nipple touching one of Rezoth’s feet.

“I see. Shall I send you to the torture chamber?”

He laughed. “That might be a reward for some, but I prefer something more personal.”

“Do you, now?” Rezoth rubbed back and forth with his foot. “What would you have?”

“I –” He swallowed hard, the tip of his tail twitching. “I would worship you, Master.”

“Would you, indeed?” Rezoth bent down and lifted Lemos’ head, thumbs rubbing his horns at the base.

“Yes. Please.”

Julia Talbot lives in the great Southwest, where she’s embraced hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full time author, Julia believes everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved.

Website: http://juliatalbot.com

Blog: http://caferisque.blogspot.com

Brewer’s Mark (Devil’s Outlaws MC) by Lynn Burke #ActionAdventure #MCromance #bikerbooks #MafiaRomance @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

Posted on August 9, 2019 by JessicaS

Brewer's Mark (Devil's Outlaws MC 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Reagan “Brewer” de Jager might look soft as a teddy bear, but his stint as a sniper in the SEALs hardened him into a lethal killer. The fact that his wife cheated on him while he was deployed makes him unable to trust. Cold hearted and empty, he sets his sights on his next mark — until one look into her eyes slays him.

Ex-CIA agent Nova Smego wasn’t nicknamed Black Widow by her superiors without reason. Underestimated for her petite form, she’s quick with her fists and lethal with a blade or a bullet. She joins a hitmen-for-hire team in the hopes of exacting revenge on the one who ruined her career. When the Outlaws eliminate her team to rescue one of their own, Nova is kept alive — and tied to her captor.

There’s a reason Brewer couldn’t end her, and while she plans her escape, she fears losing her heart to the chemistry sizzling between them. The Outlaws issue Brewer an ultimatum: pull the trigger, or find common ground to trust one another and avoid the Outlaws’ demand for her life.

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for August 16th at:

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Nova

My heart pounded in my ears, but the heightened sound of gunshots from downstairs broke through the muffled thumps of my rushing blood. I yanked open the roof’s trap door and peered into the attic below, my night vision goggles making the cold evening seem like a spring morning teeming with vibrant green.

No life stirred below from what I could see — unlike the unexpected team of three men who had stormed our safe house, it was quiet as mice in a cupboard.
I slid down the ladder, the flesh wound on my arm aching. Adjusting my grip on my rifle, I pointed the barrel at the door and breathed slowly through parted lips.

Shots sounded again, but quieter as though they were in the basement where we kept the girl we’d been hired to hold. The senator who had dished out the cash for us to take care of his “little problem” had arrived a few moments earlier than the man who’d shot me. Another two must have slipped in the front door.

Teeth clenched against the pain in my arm, I wondered again why I hadn’t aimed for the face of the man who had shot at me after taking out our two northern sentries. The bastard had gotten one shot off — enough to make my arm mostly useless.

I eased the attic door open and peered into the farmhouse’s hallway. Light shone from the stairwell around the corner to my right, so I flipped my goggles off and let them slip to the carpeted floor.

Adrenaline coursed through me as I crept forward, and even though I hadn’t gotten off more than a single shot or moved more than twenty feet from my sentry position on the roof, my lungs fought for oxygen.

As an ex-CIA operative, I should have had more control over my nerves. As a battle-hardened bitch, I certainly shouldn’t have allowed my shot at the man slinking up on the house to fly wayward.

Weak.

Lips pursed against disappointment in myself and the stinging pain, I approached the corner. A body whipped around in front of me, a meaty paw grasping my rifle’s barrel before I could swing it up.

Tall — wide shoulders —

I threw a punch to the kidney of the back lit man, putting all my strength behind me, but my fist merely earned a grunt.

The rifle flew from my grasp, and I shot out a combination punch, the third getting caught in the other damn paw of the huge man.

He dropped my gun and I blocked his grab for my injured arm, landing a half assed blow to rock hard abs that bounced my hand back at me.

I dipped as he reached for my free hand, trying like fuck to smash into his sternum with my injured arm.

The fucker snickered. “Got anything else, little girl?”

I growled and punched again, the beast’s body a solid wall of rock I had no chance of conquering.

He grabbed my wrist. “Enough.”

My world flipped, and I found myself face down on the floor, the carpet burning along my cheek as he wrenched my arms behind me. I kicked. Attempted to pull from his grasp — and he sat on my thighs, trapping them between his own. Fuck, he was big.

“Enough,” he snarled again, and zip ties tightened around my wrists. “Second floor clear,” he said, and I closed my eyes, finally stilling at the professionalism his words indicated about the team with him.

Fuck.

Heaving for breath I clenched my eyes shut.

They must have come for the woman locked in the basement. Men with earpieces, men who knew how to use their guns.

Another muffled shot sounded below us, and the man yanked me up, his hold loosening a bit on my good arm as I stood beside him. My back to the light, I peered up at my captor.

Hair, black as night, eyes blue as the summer’s sky…

My heart skipped and my adrenaline spiked again. Hot. No, gorgeous. Tall and solid, just how I used to like my men.

“Let’s go.” He yanked me down the stairs, his hold on my arm keeping me from tumbling down after him.

One of my team members lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, hazel eyes overtaken by dilated pupils that stared into whatever the fuck afterlife he’d believed in. I bit back my whimper, all thoughts of my hot-as-fuck captor erased from my mind.

“Sit.” He pointed at the wall beyond my friend’s feet, and I fought back tears and choking fear while doing as told, sliding down along the wall onto my ass while holding his stare.

Footsteps sounded from the kitchen. Another mountain of a man carried the woman from the basement, his hold gentle, his eyes tender while peering down at her. He lifted his gaze to my captor.

“Sniper from the roof,” my gorgeous attacker all but bit the words out.

“Why the fuck is she still alive?” the mountain asked while setting the woman onto her feet.

My captor turned his focus on the windows flanking the front door a few feet away. “Gunner’s here,” he muttered rather than answer his friend.

Headlights glinted across the entryway’s walls, illuminating the interior briefly, allowing me a quick study of the man looming beside me. Blood dripped from his arm from the bullet I’d put in him, splattering onto the hardwood floor, and I grimaced as my arm sent a shot of pain clear to my fingers, as though wanting to share in his.

My scowl deepened even though my insides warmed from the round, hard ass mere inches from my face. Perfect for sinking my teeth into. Perfect for grasping with my heels while he buried his length inside me. I craned my neck upward, taking in his broad shoulders, the muscular neck that disappeared into hair my fingers itched to touch.

Fuck.

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of hot 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/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

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Book Blog & Reviews

Category Archives: Guest Authors

The Case of the Deadly Arrow Part 2 by Stephanie Burke #ActionAdventure #PNR #UrbanFantasy #interracial @Flashycat @changelingpress

Mysti and Starr by Kate Hill #ActionAdventure #PNR #UrbanFantasy #NewRelease @katehillromance

Sir Spanksalot by Alice Gaines #PNR #RomCom #scifi #NewRelease

Night Critters by Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards #boxset #PNR #futuristic #RomCom #UrbanFantasy @changelingpress @Lena_Austin

Schoolboy Blues by Kiernan Kelly #ContemporaryRomance #NewRelease #GayRomance #LGBTbooks #RockStar @changelingpress @KiernanKelly

Can’t You Hear Me Knockin’ by Mychael Black #DarkFantasy #NewRelease #GayRomance #LGBT #PNR @changelingpress

Switcher’s Rhapsody by Kate Steele #futuristic #ActionAdventure #scifi #aliens #alienencounters #LGBT #GayRomance #NewRelease @Kate27Steele @changelingpress

Like a Thief in the Night by E.D. Parr #GayRomance #NewRelease #LGBT

Paint it Black (Set in Stone) by Julia Talbot #BDSM #DarkFantasy #GayRomance #PNR #LGBT @juliatalbot @changelingpress

Brewer’s Mark (Devil’s Outlaws MC) by Lynn Burke #ActionAdventure #MCromance #bikerbooks #MafiaRomance @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress