Category Archives: Guest Authors

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

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Dragon Flux (Dragon in Training 3)

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

 

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

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

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

 

Available Today at Changeling Press

pre-order at retailers for April 26th

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take your clothes off,” the genie begged.

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

Luke groaned. “Tease.”

 

More from Emily Carrington at Changeling Press

 

Took You for Granted by LM Spangler #SecondChances #RomanceBooks #NewRelease @authlmspangler @WildRosePress ‏

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Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: April 15, 2019

 

She lost him seven years ago. Now he’s back in her life… and back in her bed.

April Donovan thought she’d gotten over Grant Carmichael.

He broke her heart, took her feelings for granted, and chose a baseball career over her. She moved on with her life and eventually healed. Seven years later, a chance meeting throws that theory asunder, and several passionate moments rekindle the fire.

He wants her again—mind, soul, and…body

BUY LINKS

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

Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/2uSz8YN

Bookstrand: https://bit.ly/2G4U9H6

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

 

EXCERPT

   And in about five minutes, he would be strolling back into her life. Not on a permanent basis, but she would see him again, and a flood of emotions would swallow her in their depths. She’d want him, both with her mind and her heart. She would fight, and she would lose the battle.

     As a settlement agent, her job was to close real estate transactions. Grant was a real estate broker who, along with his brothers, purchased houses, renovated them, and then flipped them for a profit. He had been quite successful and often used her. “April Donovan, it is you. I had wondered if AD stood for you.”

     She motioned toward a visitor’s chair opposite her. “Mr. Carmichael. Please sit down.” No, don’t sit. He stood astute and gorgeous in a charcoal, three-piece suit, with a soft gray dress shirt and burgundy tie. The slim fit complemented his physique. The Grant she remembered had worn jeans and T-shirts. This version was one hundred percent eye candy.

     His head tilted to the side, and his lips formed a thin line. “We have a past. No need for formalities.”

April prayed her pulse wasn’t visibly pounding in her neck. Her eyes bored into his. Damn, he’s still gorgeous. His black hair was trimmed close to his head on the sides and longer and more disheveled on top, suiting his angular face. His jaw was still strong and could probably still take a punch. She had seen it happen before. Her gaze fell to his lips—lips that could make her tremble as they moved over her skin. Heat flooded her core, and she clenched her thighs together.

     She cleared her throat. “That is correct, Mr. Carmichael. We did have a past, but we have nothing now.”

     His brows rose, and a slow, sexy grin turned his lips upward. “Okay. We can play it your way.” He lowered his six-foot, two-inch frame into the vacant seat. “For now.”

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

LM Spangler lives in South Central Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter, three dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and some fish. Her son serves his country in the US Navy.

She is a fan of college football and any kind of baseball and likes to watch the Discovery, Velocity, HGTV, DIY, Science, and any channel showing a college football game. She also watches old game shows like $25,000 Pyramid and Match Game.

 

Author Social Media Links:

Facebook- https://facebook.com/lmspangler
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authlmspangler
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlmspangler/

Destined by Dragonblood by Lynn Burke #MMF #Shifters #Dragons #BDSM #Bisexual #Menage #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke @evernightpub

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Destined by Dragonblood-eBook-complete

#MMF #Shifters #Dragons #BDSM #Bisexual #Menage #Contemporary #Romance #HEA

Destined by Dragonblood

Blood Born Series 2

By Lynn Burke

Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Release Date: April 11, 2019

*WARNING: This title contains explicit sexual scenes, BDSM, and anal sex.

Dolyn Kemmerly has found his destined mates. Unfortunately, they are more human than dragonblood. While his inner beast longs for them, his male stubbornness insists there are mates more worthy of his royal bloodline.

Due to Ashley O’Connor’s traumatic past, only the painful slap of a Dom’s toys can help her find release. A celibate sub, she’s never ached for a man’s tender touch—until a mysterious stranger follows her into her Master’s club.

When Ashley lifts one of her hard limits, Giovanni DiLoreto, her sex-therapist recommended Dom, is finally allowed to touch the flesh he’s been lusting to caress. Doing so, however, earns him a bloody nose by a hot-as-fuck stranger. Master Vanni has never touched a dick in pleasure, but the sudden desire to dominate the newcomer—while Ashley watches—consumes him.

Dolyn’s ancestors might accept Vanni for the heart of the dragon inside him, but it will take Dolyn’s complete submission to his alpha to help Ashley heal and unlock the destiny awaiting them all.
PURCHASE LINKS:

Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/destined-by-dragonblood-by-lynn-burke/

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/BloodBorn2

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1131128665

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/destined-by-dragonblood

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/destined-by-dragonblood/id1458681516?

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/932157

Destined by Dragonblood-banner2

EXCERPT:

Cloaking myself and following Ashley into the nondescript door at the end of the hallway came easy. Slipping through what appeared to a main entrance rather than a locker room of sorts she had entered proved a bit more difficult as a receptionist’s desk and bouncer flanked the double doors.

I glanced around the reception area, fully present, yet visually, nothing more than a bend of light to the two in the room with me. Gray walls. Glass desk. Abstract art on the walls and two other doors besides the one Ashley had disappeared through—boring and not giving me a hint of what lay beyond.

I eyed one of the chairs along the wall to my left and considered waiting until Ashley returned.

The double doors opened, however, releasing a flood of sensual delights mere humans wouldn’t catch. Heat, aroused murmuring, and sex. My dragon hummed his delight, but I frowned and raced forward, slipping through the opened door as the patron of whatever the place was bade the receptionist a good evening.

A holding room with another set of double doors that couldn’t muffle or contain the patrons’ arousal. Still nothing more than a flicker in a person’s peripheral vision, I pushed one of the doors open enough to slip through.

I stepped over a threshold leading to a sinner’s delight. Musk, sweetness, and the scent of anxious perspiration swept over me. Humans … dozens of them in all sorts of dress and lack thereof mingled in the huge lounge area. Dim lights. Low music. Leather seating and a bar lay on my left, a dais beyond held a St. Andrew’s Cross with a woman moaning beneath a Dom’s ministrations.

Chains clanked from a man strung to the ceiling directly on my right. Groans rose from two men getting their cocks sucked by kneeling submissives as they lounged by the bar on my left.

My gaze returned to the cross and the woman strapped to it.

How many times had I allowed Elijah to do the same to me? How many times had he forced me to climax before shoving his cock so far up my ass I lost my breath?

My dick swelled in my jeans, but it wasn’t the actions of the Dom that turned me on. It was the thought of being on the receiving end of his flogger—the one receiving the type of pleasure found in pain.

Please.

My dragon’s whimper to play hit me hard, the fact I wanted to be the one submitting rather than dominating even harder. “Alpha,” I muttered aloud, reminding us both of our dominance as a blood born dragon from the royal line.

I’d caught a hint of Ashley’s scent while following her down the hallway into the sex club, but the overwhelming perfumes of human and sex masked her—if she’d even made her way into the lounge area.

My female … found delight in a sex club. I couldn’t have asked for more. Couldn’t have been more pleased—so why didn’t my inner dragon hiss his desire to tie her up? Stripe her ass in the way Elijah had mine countless times? Why did I want to pleasure her with gentleness—loving tenderness?

A fierce frown dented my brow as I licked my lips, hoping for a taste of Ashley’s sweetness in the air.

Cries of ecstasy jerked my head to the left … the lounge’s far corner. A dark-haired man fingered a woman through her climax, her cum slipping around his hand, dripping to the floor.

Her scent slammed into me with a wave, and my dragon growled a rumble deep in my chest to taste. To claim.

My female.

Pale, shapely legs led to her rounded ass the man now caressed, and my need to taste leaped to fierce protectiveness in a single heartbeat.

No longer cloaked, I strode across the room, darkness seizing my mind, my self-control, something that hadn’t happened in over a hundred years.

He’s touching her. Mine.

My dragon hellbent on ripping the man’s arms from his torso, I stalked forward, eating up the distance between us in a matter of seconds, my claws shimmering in and out of sight.

The width of his shoulders came close to mine, but the breadth of his chest didn’t compare. An easy to defeat opponent, my dragon shrieked, clawing at my brain as I pulled all attempts to shift deep inside me where he couldn’t explode into a mass of muscle, sinew, and scales.

I grabbed the man’s shoulder and spun him toward me, my other fist shooting out, connecting with his nose before he had a chance to blink.

Green eyes. Brilliant like spring grass—

My dragon shrieked again as he grabbed hold of my upper arms to keep from falling. Electrical charges raced up through my chest, catching my breath as we stared into each other’s eyes.

Mate.

Dick immediately swollen—leaking at his touch—I hesitated a mere blink, my desire to drop to my knees and worship him shattering all I had hoped for my future.

His punch landed on my side with enough pain my stubbornness rose with a flap of dragon wings, and growling with the need to kill, the need to fuck, goddamn need—I clocked him on the side of the side of the head. He held tight to me, yanking me down as he fell like a bag of bricks, stunned but not knocked out.

I landed on top of him with a groan, my aching dick pressed against his, a wave of desire slamming into me. “Fuck. Me,” I gasped the words, blinking once more.

A cocky grin wobbled his lips, and he shifted his hips beneath me, pressing his own hard-on against mine. “I’m usually the one in charge, but that’s one command I would love to obey.”

His low voice slithered over my skin, waking goosebumps in its path, like a physical caress, and I froze.

My mate, my beta … a goddamn, fucking Dom.

© Lynn Burke 2018

Don’t forget book 1 in the Blood Born Series, Drawn by Dragonblood, available at all major retailers!

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/

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

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

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

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

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The Darkest Joy by Dahlia Rose #DarkFantasy #DarkDesire #PNR #interraciallove @changelingpress

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The Darkest Joy (Dark Love 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Dark Desire, Dark Fantasy, Interracial, Paranormal

 

For Bliss, Caim would tear hell apart. To bring Caim to the light,
Bliss would sacrifice everything.

 

For a crime committed in the halls of heaven, Caim fell from grace to become one of the fallen. His punishment is to serve in the pits of the underworld as collector of the devil’s debts.

A thousand years in the servitude of demons is more than Caim can bear. Now he has a chance to be free and to find peace. He has found what he seeks most in the eyes and arms of Bliss Tadeo, a phlebotomist in a small town called Merry, North Carolina. With her eyes and her heart she has soothed the beast within Caim and given him a chance for redemption — if they can survive his ultimate escape from hell…

Publisher’s Note: The Darkest Joy (Dark Love 1) is an edited version of a previously published work by the same name.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Dahlia Rose

So beautiful. He watched her smile as she strapped a piece of rubber around a patient’s bicep. The smile was brilliant, kindly and full of encouragement as she slipped a hollow needle into the vein. She murmured reassuring words to ease her patient’s fears. The lifeblood of the man began to fill the tube. Even from far away he could hear her every word. She talked about the weather, and asked about children, a conversation to take a person’s mind off what was happening and help them into a happy place. Finally she was done and then she flashed that glorious smile once more. Perfection.

No one could see him as he walked down the corridor behind her as he had done for weeks now. He watched her work and at night he sat outside her window and watched her sleep. Her beauty took his immortal breath away and the normalcy of her life gave him hope for himself. After thousands of years one mistake made him who he was now. Only redemption could free him from his immortal torment, his dungeon, his curse. He sat next to her, invisible, as she wrote up charts at her small desk, in her space, her sanctuary where she worked. He inhaled the scent of hair like it was a fine wine. The dark tresses smelled like honeysuckle and vanilla spice. He wanted to run his finger down the creamy chocolate shoulder that was exposed when she took off her lab coat. When she turned, her nose was just a breath away from his, yet she did not know it. Her breath caressed his lips. It had the scent of the strawberry soft chews she liked to snack on at her desk. He stared into eyes that were like liquid chocolate. Her lips were full and she wore gloss that had a slight color of gold. Pictures of family and friends were all around her, trinkets of her human life that she treasured. One picture she favored the most and she looked at it every day. She caressed the silver frame with the word grandmother in raised letters. He heard her speak of the woman frequently, saw them go out to lunch, and watched as she hugged her with affection and love. He longed for an emotional connection, a bond with another person that couldn’t be broken, he craved…

The call jarred him from his place next to her. It was like a sledgehammer to his head. He hated when this time came around, he hated being away from her. But if he did not go to his duties the repercussion would be great and by the time his punishment was over a hundred years would have passed and she would be long gone. A frown darkened his face as he moved away from her. He promised to return to no one but himself. The next time he would reveal himself to her slowly, letting her know the man before she knew the secret. Next time. Her name was Bliss. Bliss… Bliss… Bliss, he repeated the name over and over in his head. She would be his Bliss and his salvation.

He felt it in the fiber of his being. He closed his eyes and phased out of this world owned by humanity and into a world no one wanted to see. The walls of rock were dark with soot and the ground scorched the soles of shoes. As he walked, the heat caused the rubber to hiss as if you had dropped water into a hot frying pan. He hardened his heart to the screams of torment around him, the pleas for mercy or even a drink of water to quench eternal thirst. Had he shown any compassion the consequences would be dire for him and for the person whose plea he answered. No, it was better to pretend he did not see the bodies chained to the rock walls or hear the lashes from Qumuel’s whip against the flesh of his captives as he passed.

“What took you so long, Caim?” The snarl came from the demonic lips of Belial.

His face was almost flawless in its beauty but it belied the pure evil hiding underneath. There was no one more malevolent; more filled with hate and destruction than Belial. Caim had long stopped fearing him; he looked at him now with total disinterest.

He leaned his shoulder against the steaming rock wall; it burnt a hole through the fabric of his black shirt down to his skin. It burned his flesh but Caim did not even wince. Such was the life of a fallen angel in hell.

“So no answer?” Belial asked.

“Why should I give you excuses, Belial? You are not my master, you only dispense assignments. You are basically a secretary. And as soon as I was summoned I came.” Caim replied mildly. It gave him great pleasure to see the flaming anger turn red in the demon’s eyes.

“Your insolence will not be forgotten. One of these days my revenge will be swift.”

“Said the demon to the fallen angel who lives in hell with him.” Caim scoffed unconcerned. “Why was I summoned? Give me my assignment, secretary, and go back to making coffee.”

With a snarl reminiscent of a lion’s roar Belial was on his feet. His tail lashed the desk in front of him and spilt it in two. Black ooze flowed from the wood and talons sprouted from Belial’s hands. Gone was the perfect man. Now, the face of a demon was visible and pure in its hate.

Caim took battle stance. From his back, black wings ripped their way through the fabric of his shirt. In his hands appeared a black sword. If Belial wanted a fight he would give him one, feathers against scales.

More from Dahlia Rose at Changeling Press…

 

Gunner’s Flame by Lynn Burke #bikerbooks #MCromance #RomanceBooks #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

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Gunner's Flame (Devil's Outlaws MC 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, MC Romance, Men and Women in Uniform

 

Will Gunner choose his loyal Outlaw brothers or will he
choose the path that crosses them — for her?…

 

Mitch “Gunner” Flannigan rules the Devil’s Outlaws with a firm hand, one trained by his stint in the SEALs and tempered by empathy for other vets. When a curvy redhead in Army fatigues snags his attention — and puts him in the line of fire — he’s torn between wanting to bury himself between her lush thighs and helping to ease her return to American soil.

The recent death of Shelby’s mother and her cousin’s terrorizing only adds to the PTSD hindering her return to civilian life. Flames ignite when she’s thrown into Gunner’s arms, where she also finds safety with someone who understands her struggles.

Attempts on Gunner’s life threaten their future, but so do the secrets Shelby withholds from him. When those secrets come to light Gunner will have a decision to make. Will he choose to stand with his loyal Outlaw brothers or will he choose the path that crosses them — and leads him right into her arms?

Warning: Contains adult content, graphic violence, and dark emotional scenarios that may trigger some readers.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Lynn Burke

Shelby

The coppery scent of blood filled my nose while sweat coated my skin from the desert sun beating down overhead. Screams echoed in my ears. My heart thudded so damn hard in my chest I swore an elephant sat on me, closing off my throat. Silent tears squeezed from between my clenched eyelids as I clutched at the shirt bunched in my hands and fought to keep the nightmares from taking over my head like they had since that day my platoon had been ambushed.

A waft of subtle, musky cologne trickled through the blood-scented air, and I burrowed my face into a hard, warm chest, seeking out quietness of mind, needing him to erase the memories of war I’d barely gotten a taste of before realizing I hadn’t been cut from the same cloth as my father.

“You’re okay,” the man’s raspy voice murmured over and over again, the sensation of rocking eventually pulling me back to D.C., my ears filtering the truth of my situation to my scattered brain.

I focused on breathing, desperate to keep from losing my shit like I’d been doing on a daily basis since returning home to find my fiancé moved out and on with his life. Having my mother lying in a hospital bed with terminal cancer had been my ticket out of the Army, but besides death, it was the shittiest way to get discharged.

She’d passed three days earlier, leaving me alone to deal with grief I’d yet to allow myself. Leaving me floundering in life, having lost all sense of belonging.

I only had one family member left — my older cousin who was supposed to have met me there at the memorial, and while I’d been on time I hadn’t seen him while chatting with the man holding me.

Voices buzzed in my ears, but I kept my eyes shut against the police, EMTs, and whoever else scurried around us to see to the wounded.

Eventually, the man — Gunner — pulled back and tilted my head. I forced my eyes open, blinking in the bright sunshine. He said something about cops wanting to talk to us, but I didn’t budge from the comfort of his lap, the feel of his strong arms offering shelter I hadn’t experienced since before the death of my father when I’d been a gangly, young teenager.

Gunner felt like… home. Something I’d felt had been ripped away from me while overseas. Returning to American soil hadn’t brought that comfort. Sleeping in my childhood bed hadn’t given me the same rest I’d hoped for.

I closed my eyes again, rested my cheek on his chest, the steady thump of his heart giving me something to focus on. My fingers once more found purchase in his shirt, and I clung to him like a lifeline to sanity that kept my throat-tightening panic at bay.

Eventually, the cops got around to us, a million questions I couldn’t focus enough to answer — even after I checked my messages to find my cousin had texted me a few minutes after the shooting saying he couldn’t make it.

At least he was safe.

Still shaking with the need to pass out, I declined going to the hospital when someone suggested I go. The thought of beeps and the sickening scent of bleach and death had my stomach heaving, making me feel even worse.

“I’m fine,” I insisted for at least the tenth time, folded in on myself, arms clenched tight around my middle while fighting off visions of Mom wasting away on her hospital bed.
Outlines of three bodies stood out in stark white chalk on the ground a little ways away, dark stains of blood still not completely dried or washed away. I tore my stare off the horrid sight, seeking out comfort.

Gunner and his two friends stood with another cop a few feet away, but his dark-eyed gaze stayed on me.

I heaved a sigh, settling my nerves the slightest bit at the understanding in his eyes, the connection I felt tugging us toward one another. I’d never felt need for someone as I did for Gunner, as though my body knew it would find solace and peace in close proximity to him.

The cops had my name and number, knew where I lived, and had jotted down what story I could offer. I was free to leave, but I hesitated, still dazed and uncertain of where I should go, what I should do.

Although I hated crowds, my cousin had insisted I go to the peaceful Veteran’s March for Peace, so I’d decided to take the train south into the city, but stay on the outskirts until our agreed upon time to meet.

The silent beauty of the walking crowd had soothed me in ways I’d never again expected to feel and almost gave me the sense of comradery I’d felt for a short time while overseas. Hundreds of people, quite a few in old uniforms from all branches of the military, had made their way through the streets of D.C. to silently protest the ongoing war, the ongoing loss of innocent lives even if recruits signed up knowing the possible cost.

Gunner and his two friends were of a rougher crowd, by looks, anyway. All three wore leathers and vests declaring them members of the Devil’s Outlaws, a biker gang aptly named from the northern suburbs, but I’d never been one to judge a person by their clothing choice — especially since Gunner had seemed hell-bent on helping me transition back to civilian life.

Also by looks, he was one of the hottest men I’d ever seen. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark tanned face, neck, and tattooed arms. He squinted in the sun while staring at me, lines crinkling the corners of his eyes as though he smiled on the inside…

More from Lynn at Changeling Press…

 

Dropping In by BA Tortuga and Julia Talbot #Gay #RomanceBooks #BDSM #LGBT #NewRelease @batortuga @juliatalbot @changelingpress

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Dropping In (The Barn 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, Western, Gay, Darkest Desire

 

Texas cowboy Ashton is looking to let off some steam in Aspen.
Snowboarder Max is so much more…

 

Texas cowboy Ashton is looking for a new experience when he heads up to Aspen to go to The Barn, a club that mixes all things western with his favorite BDSM lifestyle. He’s not looking for anything full-time, just a place to let off some steam in private, but that all changes when he meets Max.

Snowboarder Max is an elite athlete, but he’s always up for a good time. His attraction to Ashton is immediate, but he has no idea what to do with Ashton’s club or the things Ashton wants to share. He’s intrigued, but he also has a lot going on in his life too. Can these two find enough common ground to make a relationship work?

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Julia Talbot & BA Tortuga

Ashton Gregory stood at the baggage claim at the Aspen airport, waiting for his suitcase to appear. He could hardly miss it; the place was tiny. A couple dozen other people stood around with him, most of them looking determinedly at their phones.

All but that one over there.

Uhn.

Lean and blond, tanned as shoe leather with the brightest green eyes he’d ever seen and a little scruff of a beard that begged to be shaved off. Delicious.

Ashton smiled. This one was ripe for the picking, and he stood there waiting on his bags with a snowboard in a nylon bag. An athlete then. Drifting closer, Ashton invaded the man’s space slowly.

Those eyes kept sliding toward him, watching him, then looking away.

Yes. Hello, hot little man.

“That’s quite a ride on the descent, huh. Whoosh.”

“You know it. It’s a fucking rush.” Oh, fuck him. Pheromones were pouring off the man, the look dragging over him, bold as brass.

“What are you in for this weekend?” He knew some big snow event was happening…

“Gay Ski Week. I’m doing an exhibition.”

“What kind?” He returned the clear interest with a once over that made his snowboarder’s seem fast.

“I do half-pipe. You here for the skiing? You don’t look like a boarder.” Oh, look at that heavy ridge of need in those jeans.

“No. I’m actually here for a new adventure. I joined a private club.” He would love to tell this one all about The Barn.

“No shit? Well, good on you!” The bags started clunking out of the chute. Thud. Thud. Thud.

His bag was distinctive, a sleek, steel gray hardside.

“What’s your name?” Ashton asked. “In case you slip off. I want to be able to find you.”

“Maxwell Driver. Everyone calls me Gear, though.” Maxwell held out one hand to him.

“Gear, huh?” He leaned closer to shake, electric shocks running up his arm.

“I got a steampunk vibe, you know. Gears.” The little tease lifted his shirt, showing off a hint of ink — a series of clockwork gears that trailed up and down Max’s ribcage.

“I like that, Max.” His own tattoos were just as complex, maybe more so, based on the march of the seasons across the earth. Maybe Max would get to see them.

“Thanks. I got the work done in Portland.” Max grabbed a rainbow suitcase. “I hope you have a good visit, man. Enjoy your club.”

“Wait.” He touched Max’s arm, just lightly, but it stopped the man in his tracks. “Here. I get one guest for each visit. There’s a barbecue tonight, and more events all weekend. Call me and I’ll get you in.” He handed Max two cards. One with his cell number, one with The Barn.

“Ashton. I like it.”

Max slipped the cards in his back pocket, then grabbed Ashton’s phone, holding it out and waiting patiently for him to unlock it before putting in his contact information.

Ashton smiled widely. “I’ll use it, you know.”

“Promises, promises. I’m staying at the St. Moritz. Exhibition’s tomorrow. I can get you in. If you’re into watching, I mean.”

“I love to watch.” He would squeeze it in. “What time?”

“My run’s at ten in the morning at the half-pipe. I’ll be in red.”

“I’ll be there with bells on.” He was staying in Aspen proper, renting a condo through VRBO. If he liked it, he would buy a place, since he hoped The Barn would be a regular visit for him.

“Ring a ling.” Max put his bag on his shoulder, grabbed his board. “Nice to meet you, cowboy. I love the hat.”

More books from BA Tortuga and Julia Talbot at Changeling Press…

Angel Falls Volume 1 by Stephanie Burke #PNR #UrbanFantasy #interracial #gay #LGBT @changelingpress @Flashycat

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Angel Falls Vol. 1 (Angel Falls 6)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Renee George
Genres/Themes: Box Set, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Bisexual and more,
Cougar, Elves Dragons and Magical Creatures, Gay, Interracial

 

With the town of Angel Falls, Maryland, on their side,
broken wings will learn to fly once more.

 

Most people avoid Angel Falls. They say it’s filled with crazy geeks and weirdoes. And they’re right. But Angel Falls has the best geeks and weirdoes anyone has ever met.

Broken Wings: Angel, foundling turned NFL star quarterback, and Klintic, a Fae warrior prince, have both been tested in the fires of torment and anguish and managed to survive to find each other. That the ex-footballer and the betrayed prince manage to discover each other is a miracle. With the town of Angel Falls on their side, broken wings will learn to fly once more.

Snake: Snake’s lived a good, long life and is comfortable doing tattoos and body modifications in her shop. But when young Ethan comes to her, he opens more than memories to her past. He unleashes a love she could never have anticipated. A May/December relationship will never work, but with a little magic and the secrets held in the town of Angel Falls, maybe together they can give love a second chance.

Sunspots: Bryan Adams finally has a date with the man of his dreams — Winston Macapthy, RN, descendant of a sun god and a caracal shifter to boot. Finally the geeks are going to come out on top. But if Bryan’s less-than-perfect physique doesn’t put off the handsome shifter, then kidnapping, torture, and running for their lives might.

Or it may just be another perfect weekend… perfect for the small Maryland town of Angel Falls.

Publisher’s Note: Angel Falls Vol. 1 contains the previously published novellas Broken Wings (M/M), Snake (M/F), and Sunspots (M/M).

 

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available in ebook and print

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Stephanie Burke
Excerpt from Broken Wings

“I’ll get back with you in a few days, Rich,” he finally said, cutting off his agent.

“Good.” Rich sighed, as if knowing Angel wasn’t invested in the conversation at all. “I’ll wait till I hear from you.”

“All right.” Angel started to disconnect the call, but Rich’s voice stopped him.

“There’s some reporter sniffing around about a ‘where are they now’ piece, Angel. I told him to fuck off, but I have a feeling he’s not going to give up so easily.”

Great, Angel thought, cursing mentally as he thought of being hounded once more by a media who felt they had a right to put his pain on display. Apparently the pseudonym hadn’t been enough to keep him under the radar. “Thanks for the heads up,” he nearly growled at the phone. “But I think I’m safe here.”

“It’s damn hard to find you in that twisted, crazy zone where you currently reside.” His agent laughed. “I’d keep my eye out just in case. The reporter’s name is Jonathon Greely.”

“Thanks, Rich. And goodbye.”

Angel disconnected the call and moved deeper into the woods. He braved the trails regularly in a bid to exercise his injured knee and clear his head.

It hadn’t been easy getting to the point where he could feel connected with life again, but the exercise and the fresh air helped, as did the acceptance of the people who lived here. They could care less about who he was or what had happened to him — they just accepted him as a shy recluse who fit into a town already half occupied by shy recluses.

It was great.

He was about to turn back home to stare at his computer screen again when he heard the screaming. It sounded like someone was stabbing a peacock with a pitchfork.

He turned toward the sound, his feet automatically moving him at a swift pace deeper into the woods, into a place he rarely visited. Before he reached its source, the screaming stopped.

“Damn,” he murmured, wondering what he would find when he got there. He had high hopes that whatever was attacking the poor creature had fled and that maybe the poor prey hadn’t died.

He’d just rounded a small copse of maple trees when he saw the body.

“Good God,” he gasped, looking around to see if whatever had savaged the poor man was still nearby.

And it was a man, wearing ripped pants and slashed boots. He was bare-chested save for a pair of ill-fitted costume wings attached to his back.

Moving around to the man’s head, Angel dropped to his knees and pulled what seemed like mountains of dyed hair out of his face, wondering what the green goo that covered him was. It was tacky, the consistency of drying paint, and it liberally splattered the poor man’s form.

But the man was breathing. When Angel pressed his fingers against his neck, he could feel the steady pulse beneath his soft, warm skin. The man wasn’t exactly pale. No, his skin tone was dusky with an olive tint. His body under the grime and fake wings was fit and muscular.

“Hey. Hey, buddy. Can you hear me?” Angel asked, tapping him on the face, not wanting to move him in case of injury. “Hey.”

He tapped the man again, looking around to find the cause of his injury. The ground wasn’t torn up as it would be if he’d been defending himself. The trees and even the grass in the small clearing remained undisturbed. Unless the man had been dropped out of a plane, Angel couldn’t see how he’d found his way onto his property wearing a set of wings…

“Wings,” he muttered, shaking his head. Maybe this was one of the citizens of Angel Falls. Maybe he was a geek who’d invented some kind of flying machine and had tried to test it, with disastrous results. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. A few years ago, an incident with a jet pack had torched a good half-acre of his land and the inventor, a fifteen-year-old boy who was way too young to be playing with jet fuel, broke a thumb on Angel’s property.

Angel reached for the wings and — “Damn it!” He quickly pulled his hand back as what felt like a hell of a lot of static electricity zapped his fingers.

Shaking his fingers, he again tried to get the man to respond. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

He was about to give up on waking his avian visitor to call 911 when the man’s eyelids fluttered.

“Yeah,” Angel encouraged, speaking a little louder. “That’s it, buddy. Come on and open those eyes for me –“

The injured man’s eyes fluttered once more and then blinked open. His eyes — the color was shocking Angel nearly jumped back before he realized the solid black had to be contact lenses.

Calling himself all kinds of a fool, he moved in closer. “Hey? Buddy?”

“Cosxgrturve exzline gzlk,” the man gasped, his tongue twisting the incomprehensible words.

“Slurred speech.” Angel spoke to himself, already reaching for his cell. This looked like it might be serious —

“Cosxgrturve kzilei jemanzr!” the man said, his voice steadier.

“Calm down, buddy –” Angel rested a hand on the man’s shoulder when he suddenly lurched as if to get up. “Hey!” But the man braced a hand on Angel’s shoulder and fought to rise.

Not wanting him to hurt himself more — brain injuries could be tricky, as his year in the NFL had taught him — Angel braced the man as he lurched to his feet. Suddenly he was looking up into a dark-eyed visage that was staring back at him.

The man was big, and for Angel to say that was telling. Angel himself stood at six feet seven inches tall, a formidable height for a quarterback, but this man — he had to be about a foot taller than Angel.

And as Angel stared, his mouth open in shock, his cell dangling unused from his hand, the man arched his back and the wings fluttered. Then, as Angel tried to figure out how the massive things were attached, there was a zap that felt like a milder form of that earlier static electricity, and the wings began to glow faintly…

More from Stephanie Burke at Changeling Press…

 

It’s in the Mix by Ayla Ruse #PNR #UrbanFantasy #RomanceBooks @changelingpress @AylaRuse

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It's In The Mix (Wit & Wizardry Multi-Author 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Magic,
Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures

 

Mix 1 part narrow minded fairy with 1 part human bachelor:
get 2 parts love everlasting…

 

Asling is not happy to be tending bar in a human pub. Her fairy aunt predicted she’d find love by the next full moon, and that means she should be back in Ireland — not in the middle of Massachusetts.

Despite the happy married lives of his friends, Daniel is content to remain a bachelor. After all, the pretty new bartender may want to come home with him. Why spoil that with a relationship?

Something might have happened on its own, but a mischievous pub owner slips each of them a Wit & Wizardry brew known to contain a powerful love potion. Before either can say a word, Aisling and Daniel find themselves tumbling headlong into love.

Unfortunately, all is not happily ever after. Aisling does not want to love a human, and Daniel believes he’s unfairly pressured her into being with him. When the pair settle down to breathe, can they discover something deeper to bind them, or will daylight make the heady effects of a potioned brew fade away?

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Ayla Ruse

Dirv walked into the break room, looking down at his clipboard. A Russian leshy, Dirv ran the pub for the leprechaun Dunn brothers, owners of the Wit & Wizardry brewery. He was a tall, gnarled man of an indeterminate age, with long limbs and a nose to match. To see him grouchy meant he was having a good day, and she couldn’t imagine him being in love with anyone save the forests.

“I passed your sister, and the bar’s getting busy. Mitchell is ready for his break. You’d best get your winged ass out there.” He glanced up, and Aisling twisted her lips. “Don’t worry over the brews. I promised those trickster Dunns I wouldn’t sell them, and I won’t. Customs should come through tomorrow, then you can take it with you and begone.”

“That can’t come soon enough,” she muttered. Figured the man heard her.

“For me too. You think I appreciate my best bartender and waitress falling in love and running off, leaving me high and dry? It’s because of those blasted brews.” His bony hand pointed and shook toward the stacks of beer. “And you and your sister wouldn’t have to be working for me tonight. So don’t take it out on me, fairy. Take the blame out on those Dunns.”

Aisling had no idea why, but listening to the man rattle on, acting upset, amused her. He wasn’t truly mad, because he loved a good trick more than anyone else, but he also loved to gripe. “No problem, Dirv. I’ll head on out and tend bar for ya.”

* * *

Two hours later, Aisling had been asked her name so often she practically growled it out in answer. That or flat out ignored the question. She’d also been propositioned more than she had been in her entire life. She’d had to do her best not to gag whenever a human dared speak to her. All her senses were overloaded with smells of beer, food, human sweat, and the thick New England accent that jarred her ears. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could take it. Lena, her happy, peppy self, had checked on her a few times, for which Aisling was grateful, but her attention kept straying to the clock, counting down the minutes until she could take her own fifteen-minute break.

“Hello, beautiful.”

Aisling didn’t even bother looking up when the human leaned against the bar. She’d been hit on so often she mentally blocked all their talk. “What’cha be needing tonight?” she asked instead and swiped a damp cloth across the bar’s work surface.

She could have sworn he murmured the word, “you,” and her head shot up at that, but his warm smile told her she must have been mistaken. Once she looked up at him, though, she couldn’t look away. She should be disgusted at the mere presence of him, a human, but he had the perfect, classic dark Irish look — hair as black as the Hidden Fairy Caves, eyes as blue as the deepest reaches of the seaside springtime sky. To complete the package, even though he leaned against the bar, she knew when he stood straight he’d be tall and athletically lean. His face was chiseled, and he looked as if he’d fit in perfectly with the clans of old. For a brief second she even imagined him in a tartan. True, she didn’t care for humans, but she’d always loved the old stories of when fairy folk would interact openly with them. She would be the first to admit she’d not want those days back, but looking at him reminded her of the old lore, and she couldn’t help it. She sighed.

“Miss? Are you okay?” He grinned, and his deep voice shook her out of her musings.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. You said you wanted… ?” She tried to focus. He gave her his order, but nothing registered because she was so caught up in simply listening to his voice.

“Did you get that?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh, um, forgive me.” She rubbed her temple as if she had a headache. The noise is getting to me, I think,” she lied and averted her eyes so she wouldn’t be looking at him. “Can you tell me again what you’d like?”

“Three house beers, please. I understand the Wit & Wizards aren’t available tonight?” He sounded amused, which both made her upset and made her blush. She didn’t like the dual feelings so she ignored both to focus on her temporary job.

She answered the man while pretending to work her cloth over a stubborn spot on the bar.

“You’d be right. There’s been a recall. It’s nothing bad. The taste was a little off. You know those Dunn Brothers. If something’s even a little off, they’re not happy.” Why was she rambling?

She stepped away to put distance between them and to pull the longnecks from the cooler below the bar.

“No, I don’t, actually,” he said.

“What?”

“The Dunn Brothers. I don’t know them. Who are they?”

“Well, they’re –” sniveling, slave-driving, demanding Leprechauns “– um, they’re the triplets what own the Wit & Wizardry Brewery.”

“Fascinating. I take it from your accent you know them well?”

“I work for them.”

“Wow. You’re straight from the source, so to speak. Being put to work here must be the very definition of excellent customer service.”

“Being put to work here is called punishment,” she muttered.

“How so? My name’s Daniel O’Hare, by the way.”

“Oh, never you mind. Nice to meet ya, Daniel.” She set the opened beers on the bar top at the same time as he reached for them. She allowed their hands to brush. Allowed because she’d kept a clear touching distance from the humans tonight. But with this man, something told her that she had to know what he felt like.

More from Ayla at Changeling Press…

 

Sky’s the Limit by Mychael Black #PNR#UrbanFantasy #GayRomance #LGBT @changelingpress @mychael_black

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Ice and snow are cold. Ice dragons are definitely not!

 

Sky's The Limit (Wit & Wizardry Multi-Author 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Elves Dragons and Magical Creatures,
Gay, Second Edition, Shapeshifters

 

Despite his last name, Kelly Snow despises winter. He hates being cold and tromping through snow and ice. So, naturally, he’s called to inspect and catalogue a hermit’s vast library… in the mountains.

Dregan Stone has been around long enough to amass an enormous collection. Instead of gold and jewels, however, his hoard is made entirely of books — so many he’s lost track of what he actually has. He needs help getting his hoard organized, so a friend recommends a librarian.

Kelly and Dregan couldn’t be any more different, but neither man can deny the bizarre magnetic attraction between them. Dregan refuses to believe what it means, but that’s the least of his worries. What happens when Kelly discovers just what sort of man he’s working for?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Mychael Black

“I hate snow.”

Kelly stared out his driver side window at the cold, wet blanket with which he shared a name. Autumn, spring, summer — any would do. But winter? No, thanks! He sighed and got out of the car, nose wrinkling when his boot sank into at least five inches of snow. The wind had stopped blowing, thank God, but he swore the temperature had fallen a hundred degrees by the time he reached the huge house high in the mountains.

Actually, huge didn’t quite fit. More like… massive. Castle, maybe? Surely, it rivaled any mansion in the big cities. Brick walls towered over the circular driveway, windows lining them. The double entrance doors could easily fit six grown men in a row, with six more guys sitting on their shoulders. The whole place looked more like a house belonging to a fairy tale giant.

One of the doors opened, revealing an older man in classic butler dress. Kelly carried his laptop bag while pulling his wheeled suitcase behind him. When he reached the butler, the man smiled, breaking the stereotypical stoic demeanor.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Snow. Master Stone is awaiting you in his library.”

“Thank you, Mr… ?”

“Just Joseph, if you will.” Joseph gestured to himself. He took Kelly’s suitcase handle and stepped aside.

Kelly entered, his gaze caught immediately by the sweeping grand staircase dominating the foyer. It tapered up from the floor to a broad landing, then continued upward on either side. A statue of a dragon, of all things, stared down from the landing.

Joseph shut the door and walked around Kelly. “I will take your suitcase up to your room. Master Stone doesn’t like to be kept waiting. This way, please.”

Great. A stuck-up hardass for a client.

Joseph left Kelly’s suitcase at the foot of the steps and led Kelly off to the left. Halfway down the hall, he knocked on a door.

“Yes?”

Kelly instantly recognized the deep, rumbling voice from the one he’d heard on the phone. A shiver moved up his spine.

“Mr. Snow is here, sir.”

“Show him in.”

Joseph opened the door and stood aside.

Kelly walked into the room, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. “Holy…”

The door shut quietly behind Kelly, leaving him alone with his new client.

Dregan Stone emerged from somewhere among the books. Dark hair touched his shoulders, and pale eyes reflected his stern expression. In any other circumstance, Kelly would’ve given anything to look his fill — or more. But Dregan Stone was a client, and no matter how fucking gorgeous, Kelly wasn’t about to cross that line.

“This is only one section of my library. I will show you the rest, but it is your job to organize it. I have business dealings I must attend to, so come along.”

Snapping himself out of a daze, Kelly followed silently. He would’ve at least shaken the man’s hand, but Stone seemed to be hyper-focused on work. So be it. Kelly could easily play along.

Stone pulled open a room divider to reveal what Kelly quickly realized was the bulk of the man’s book hoard. Three stories tall, and nearly as big as Kelly’s entire apartment, the library overflowed with books. There was no way in hell the man owned forty thousand books. Kelly would bet his life’s savings there were at least half a million books stacked, piled, shelved, and scattered on every available surface.

“You will begin work promptly at six every morning,” Stone said, intruding on Kelly’s awe-struck, reverent silence. “We break at noon exactly for lunch. Then resume until dinner at seven in the evening. I have a business to run, so I will not be available to assist you with the library. Do you have any questions?”

Kelly glanced at his hot-but-grouchily-stoic client. “When do I start?”

“Now.”

“Good.” Kelly entered the library, laptop bag sliding off his shoulder. “I will see you for dinner then.”

Stone nodded once and left Kelly to it.

Midnight Sons by Emily Carrington #PNR #UrbanFantasy #NewRelease #bisexualandmore #Gay #LGBT @changelingpress @CarringtonEmily

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Two Inupiat people, drawn together by passion, face violence
and their own demons.

 

Midnight Sons (Wolf Schooled 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Gay, Shifters

Amaruq is a FTM transgender werewolf. Though confident in his own body, he runs up against the challenges of living and loving in a college environment. These pale when compared to the violence he is subjected to.

Nootaikok is a former tracker, a killer who is looking for a new lease on life. He finds his solace in Amaruq. But when that way of life is threatened by terrorists, he must reclaim his former training, despite his demons, or see his love die.

Can Amaruq and Nootaikok’s love rise from the ashes of disaster like the storied phoenix?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

Amaruq’s birth name was Mary.

Screw that. I’ve been Amaruq to my new werewolf pack since mid-summer. Even Tilthos Charles, the alpha above all alphas in North America, calls me Amaruq. I’m no more Mary than I am female.

But he was still biologically female, at least on the outside. Damn werewolves for not knowing how to perform gender reassignment surgery. And since humans — most of them anyway — didn’t know werewolves, or any other magical creatures, existed, there would be no asking them for help.

Amaruq rolled his head to the right against the plane’s hard seatback and closed his eyes. Tilthos Charles calls me Amaruq. Which is a male name as well as my true name. Even if my parents call me Mary still, they’re in Anchorage and I’m, well, I’m not technically in Buffalo or even the surrounding area.

He glanced out the window at the brightness of the sky above the clouds. I’m on my way to SearchLight Academy for my second semester. And, yeah, I’m Mary on their books, but my professors don’t call me that after the first day, and my friends not since I introduced myself as Amaruq. SearchLight is much more accepting of transgender Inuit werewolves. Maybe once I have the money, I’ll get my name legally changed.

With this current bout of vitriol out of his spleen, and with a smile borne of that last idea, Amaruq fell asleep. He’d been up early, unable to sleep, and he needed a short nap. He dreamed of the short, ebony-haired Inuit shifter who had populated his dreams for some time. Being a precognitive, Amaruq had faith his dream would come true. He settled in mentally to enjoy its oft-repeated flow.

First, he found himself in a kayak in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. There were narwhals all around him, but he didn’t fear they would upset the little boat. Rather, he was comforted by their presence, as if they promised safety. But safety from what? He was perfectly well-guarded, first among his new pack and then at SearchLight Academy, where nothing out of the ordinary ever happened.

Then someone approached Amaruq in another kayak. Even though he couldn’t know, somehow he was sure this was another shifter, like him, and yet different. Amaruq transformed into a wolf when he chose. This shifter was… something else… when he changed.

The other’s broad face and short stature called to mind all the pictures of Inuits he’d seen since he started trying to research his heritage, and of course the features reminded him of himself and his family. But where his family kept their hair neatly cut in Western style, this one’s hair was wild as he pushed back the hood of his parka.

“Amaruq.” He always knew Amaruq’s chosen name without having to be told. “Come to the shore with me.”

They reached land much more quickly than was possible but this never bothered Amaruq. They hauled their kayaks up on the beach so they wouldn’t wash away. Then the shifter took off his gloves and cupped the sides of Amaruq’s face. “You’re handsome.”

“What’s your name?”

The shifter laughed. “You’ll know when it’s time.” And he kissed Amaruq.

Over thirty and never been kissed before. I’m like that movie, Forty-Year-Old Virgin.

Amaruq relished the kiss. It might only be a dream, but he felt sure real kissing would be just like this. Soft at first, gentle, persuasive, and utterly compelling. Then, as the shifter nudged Amaruq’s lips open with his tongue, it was impossible not to fall into the play of mouths. As one tongue slid over another, touching teeth, and those same teeth nibbling the bottom of Amaruq’s lip… His whole body woke with passion. He was wet between his legs. And, oh, even though he normally hated thinking of his sex, right now he adored the way the shifter made him feel. Like he was being lit up from the inside. Not as with fire, but as with a thousand fireflies. Or even the Northern Lights.

When his lover drew back, Amaruq was breathless with need. “Please,” he whispered every time he had this dream. “Please…”

“What do you want? Tell me the truth.”

“Your name.”

The shifter tsked. “No, that’s not what you truly crave. Tell me the truth.”

And, as he always did, Amaruq confessed, “I want to know when I’ll see you for real.”

“Today.”

This was such a divergent path from the usual ambiguous answer that Amaruq gaped. And he startled awake. It might have been the airplane’s wheels hitting the tarmac that woke him, but he doubted it. His dream lover’s startling promise was what did it. Looking down at his hands where they were fisted in his lap, Amaruq whispered, “Let it be today.”