Release Blitz: Kline Agency by Ana Raine #gayromance @AuthorAnaRaine @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Kline Agency

Series: Kline Agency #5

Author: Ana Raine

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: June 18, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 248

Genre: Romance, Contemporary Romance, Gay, Action Adventure, Multiple Partners

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Synopsis

Manhattan — urban center of metropolitan New York. Home of the Kline Agency, where a young man can earn his fortune — or find his love.

Chilled Champagne: Micah’s job as an escort is to be whatever his client wants him to be. But Daniel won’t stop exploring until he knows all Micah’s dangerous secrets.

Levi: Levi is content in his life as an escort at the Kline Agency — until he meets a new client, Wesley. Can Levi and Wesley escape their haunted pasts and learn to love — and trust — again?

Avery: Avery expects to work as an escort at the Kline Agency long enough to help fund his younger brother’s college tuition. A chance meeting with an artist changes everything. But Milo loses his sponsor, he can no longer afford Avery’s services, and Avery is forced to choose between a relationship with Milo or the rich clients of the Kline Agency.

Next To You: Twins Alexei and Vasily fulfilling fantasies for customers of the Kline Escort Agency. Kane was once Vasily’s lover, though Vasily doesn’t remember, due to a head injury sustained at the hands of the vicious Noch gang. As his memories slowly return, Vasily becomes determined to end their debt to the Noch Gang — a decision that may cost them all more than they’re willing to pay.

Excerpt

Copyright ©2021 Ana Raine
Excerpt from Chilled Champagne

Lance was staring at Micah, his toned arms crossed over broad pectorals. At forty-one, he was still handsome and built. Everyone around the Kline Agency knew he was called Loose because he used to put out for his clients. All of that had changed when he’d met the man who was now his lover.

Micah didn’t often hang out at the Kline Agency offices like some of the others did.

“How did it go?” Lance wrapped his arm around Micah’s still chilled shoulders and led him back to his office.

“Did Mr. Patrick have a complaint?” Micah asked hesitantly.

“Why would you say that?” Lance laughed, his eyebrows shooting upward.

“I wouldn’t put out,” Micah replied. He’d said this so often he barely blushed anymore.

Lance didn’t seem surprised. “I figured as much. All the same, he wants to know when he can see you again.”

“He called back already?”

“Yes. A few minutes ago.”

Micah felt his stomach doing a tug of war. He felt flattered he’d made such an impression, but at the same time, he wasn’t going to change his mind. Painfully, his cock kept captive in his pants reminded him how turned on he was. Flushed, he gathered his thoughts before speaking. “What does my schedule look like this week?”

“You’re open for tomorrow.” Lance glanced at his computer, clicking his mouse. “Then you have an appointment with a Mr. Hart.”

Micah was surprised. “I don’t remember Mr. Hart.”

“He’s new. Requested the most beautiful escort we have.”

Micah covered his laugh with a cough. “Didn’t he bother looking at the website?”

“Sounded like he decided to get an escort last minute,” Lance said, clicking some more. “He didn’t want to take the time to look through pictures.”

One thing Micah loved about The Kline Agency was that while most escort services posted full body shots and bios on their websites, Kline posted only profile shots, no faces. Potential clients had to register first. Full-face pictures only went out to email after Lance ran a background check. Micah couldn’t hide if his picture was blasted all over a high volume website.

Lance sighed. “Get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m tired.” Micah unclasped the hair clip. “Is Candace back yet?”

“She’s with her favorite client. But she said you could keep the clip. Something about how that color looks better in dark hair than red.”

Micah nodded, replacing the clip before grabbing his bag. He would change when he got home.

Candace’s hair clip stuck to the side of his head, pressed tightly because he’d worn a knit cap. His gloves had a hole in the right index finger, reminding him he had to buy a new pair before winter came and New York got seriously cold. The Kline Agency office was in a good part of the city. The streetlights were always working at every corner, and the cars lined up were clean without a scratch.

His studio was nice enough, considering how quickly he’d had to move and the funds he’d had available at the time. Unlocking the door, he kicked aside a pile of mail. He recognized letters from his mom, and his ex… they only brought back the terrible decisions he’d made.

Kisaki, a kitten he’d rescued, was waiting, rubbing his head affectionately against Micah’s leg. “Hey baby,” Micah cooed, dropping his bag on the table. “Hungry?” He held Kisaki with one hand while sifting through his cupboard for a fresh can of cat food. “I’m hungry too.”

The scent of wet food had barely hit Micah’s nostrils when he heard his phone buzzing from his bag. “Hello?”

There was a pause before a familiar voice made Micah cringe. “Don’t hang up this time.”

There was no way Micah was staying on the line. Breathing heavily, Micah slid to the floor, pressing the end button before resting on his side, one hand on Kisaki’s back as he lapped up his food. He’d have to get his number changed. Again.

The warm fur beneath his hand and then against his chest made Micah’s throat tighten. He was too tired to stay awake. And he definitely didn’t want to deal with the phone call. His ex was supposed to stay in his past. If he found him now, after four years, Micah was sure his strong resolve would crumble. And what was worse was that Micah didn’t think he’d get so lucky in his next attempt to run away.

Purchase

Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

Ana is still figuring out what she wants to do with her life, although social work seems to be the most likely. Her best friends are a box of chocolate and her kitten who always sit beside her while she writes. When Ana was in high school, she often wrote about the LGBT community, but now her work is less…innocent. Ana enjoys writing anything and everything, including BDSM, dragons, shifters, magic, and more.

Website | Twitter | Goodreads | Bookbub

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Inked & Sweet by Megan Slayer #contemporaryromance @MeganSlayer

Dante Malachi screwed his life up to epic proportions. His addictions nearly killed him before he hit rock bottom. Getting kicked out of the Malachi family was his motivation to clean up his act, but leaving his old life behind meant leaving her, as well. Rona’s the one he never forgot.

Rona never wanted to see Dante again. She blames him for the bad in her life — but also most of the good. When he comes back into her orbit, she knows she has to let him in — or get rid of him for good.

When a bomb threat throws them together, it’s up to Rona and Dante to decide if they want to extinguish the desire between them or reignite their fiery passion.

Preorder for June 25th

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Megan Slayer

Dante drove away from his brother’s guest house and growled. How dare his brother throw him out? How dare his brother demand he stop stealing money from the family? So he had no claim to the money and had treated his brothers shabbily, but Jesus. They didn’t have to throw him out.

Maybe he did deserve to be removed. He’d acted like a real dick to Kelly, Martin’s girl, and spent so much money on worthless shit — drink, drugs, tattoos… He’d run roughshod over his life.

God, he was awful.

He’d been a man on the run — from his life, his family, the explosions he’d set off. He wanted someone to hurt in the same way he had. No one knew the truth, and he hadn’t shared many details. Why should he? His attitude had pushed everyone away.

He drove off and didn’t look back. Fuck ’em. His brothers didn’t want him around, then fine. He’d show them he wasn’t just one thing — a screw-up. So his ex-wife and daughter hated him. So they refused to let him see his grandson.

Fine.

He’d become someone on his own. No more illegal shit. No more expecting others to do the work for him.

He’d do it.

He had no choice.

Dante left his old life behind in search of a new one. He had business skills and the ability to talk to people. He’d find something and survive.

He wasn’t that old and had time to do something different with his life.

He owed it to his brothers to change and become the man they knew he could be. Besides, he owed it to himself to be better than his past.

* * *

One year later…

Dante pulled into the Brass Pole parking lot for his nightly shift. For the last year, he’d worked his ass off to prove to the owner, Bruce, that he could do more than look menacing at the door. He didn’t mind being a bouncer, but he’d rather work steadily with the books. Bruce allowed him to fix the mistakes in the books twice a week, but Dante preferred his time in the office, rather than at the door. The impulse to steal money never quite left him, but there wasn’t the ready cash like at his family’s clubs. Besides, he needed the job and responsibility.

He left his clunker of a car and walked into the club. Bruce stood behind the bar, rather than in his usual spot with the bouncers.

“Bruce.” Dante clocked in. “Where’s Mick? Out again?” The regular bartender wasn’t always reliable unless he was behind the bar.

“He quit. Met a girl in Sutton and left. Something about the great peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Bruce said. “I have no idea what the hell that means, but it’s got to be code for something. That man always talks in code about sex.” He rinsed glasses, then left them on the towel.

“Could be.” He’d never heard of sex referred to as peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but whatever. “Do you have someone lined up as a replacement?”

“Not yet. I’ve got some guys coming in for interviews tomorrow.” Bruce wiped a tall-boy glass. “I’d have you fill in, but I’m sending you upstairs.”

“You are?” He’d graduated to doing the books those two nights, but hadn’t tended bar in six months.

“The books are fine and can wait another night. I’ll be down here at the bar because you’re not supposed to be this close to booze. No, I’m going to have you serve upstairs. Nothing stronger than soft drinks, so it’s not hard. Besides, I trust you up there. Everyone wants to go up there to watch the action, and I know you’ll actually do the job,” Bruce said.

“Oh, you know it?” He’d do exactly what he was told to do because he needed to prove to himself and everyone else that he could handle the job.

“You’ll give me lip, but you’ll do the job.” Bruce rearranged the glasses on the towel. “Look, just do it. It’s one night, and tomorrow you’ll be back in your office. I’m bumping you up to three days a week.”

“You are?” Damn. He’d moved up in the world. “Thank you.” He’d been a belligerent shit in his former life, and this structure suited him. “I’ll make you happy.”

“I doubt it. You’re not going to become a five-foot-seven blonde with D-cups who’s going to blow me.” Bruce tossed the towel onto the counter. “I never doubted you’d do the work, so here are the rules. No fucking the girls upstairs, no getting in the middle of the scenes and don’t leave the bar. Come in on one of your nights off to play if you want. You’ve got the pass to get up there when you’re not working.”

“I work every night we’re open.” He didn’t care. He didn’t need to get involved with someone. Christ. His love life had been complicated enough before. He preferred the simplicity. That and he’d never have another lover like Rona in his life. She knew how to make him happy and indulged his wilder side without involving drugs or alcohol. Sure, being single sucked and his bed was too fucking big for one person, but being alone kept him out of trouble.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

Find Megan Online: Website | Facebook | Instagram

Rycks (Black Reign MC) by Marteeka Karland #mcromance #romanticsuspense @marteekakarland

Lyric: I’m in so much trouble. My orders are to find the highest-ranking member of Salvation’s Bane or Black Reign MCs and sleep with him. Worm my way into his bed so I can feed information to Kiss of Death. Little did I know I would find the one man I could never forget — the man who broke my heart six years ago and left me to fend for myself against a ruthless club who will break me the first chance they get.

Rycks: Lyric ran out on me six years ago. Not that I’d given her any reason to stay. The second I see her again, I want to punish her. She waltzes back into my life with an agenda I can’t figure out. When I do, the truth is as scary as it is infuriating. Lyric is my torment. She’s sent to me as bait in a bigger plan I can’t fathom. Mainly because I’m too distracted by what she reveals. Now I’m questioning my loyalties to both her and my mentor, El Diablo. She pulls at my need to protect at the same time she might just prove herself to be a traitor.

WARNING: Violence, explicit language, and adult situations. Rycks is the first book in the Black Reign series. While you can read Rycks as a stand-alone book, you may better understand the characters and situations if you have read books in the Bones MC and Salvation’s Bane MC series.

Preorder for June 25th

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Marteeka Karland

Rycks

If there was a benefit of Black Reign joining with Salvation’s Bane, it had to be Topaz. The girl could fucking suck dick like a Hoover vacuum cleaner. I might not indulge often, but at parties, I enjoyed watching all the hedonistic dancing and fucking from a distance. It was even more pleasant while getting sucked off.

Topaz always made herself available to me, though she wasn’t my first choice of girls. I rarely refused her, mostly because of that talented mouth. Even though I thoroughly enjoyed her blow jobs, it was a means to an end. Eventually, I’d let her take me over the edge. Sometimes, she pulled out, letting me come on her face. Other times, her tits. Recently, she’d started swallowing me down, and I knew it was time to move on. I was many things, few of them good, but I’d never led a woman on. Good as she was, I didn’t want Topaz. Not like that.

“See you’re makin’ yourself at home.” Thorn, the president of Salvation’s Bane, chuckled at me. “Enjoying the party?”

“Bane always throws a bitchin’ party,” I acknowledged. I sat with Topaz kneeling before me. My arms were thrown over the back of the loveseat, resting as I watched her. Sometimes I watched her swallowing me — which was erotic as hell. Other times I watched the people in the room. Rarely was there a woman who wasn’t topless or walking around naked. Some of them were in various stages of sex with one or more men. As parties went, this was decent.

“Any word on our rat problem?”

“Making progress. I gave Ripper the latest when I got here. He’s going through it now.” Topaz looked up at me, all wide-eyed as she sucked my cock. It would be easy to just lean my head back and let her take over, but I had shit to tell Thorn. “Got some really good tips. Someone unwilling to risk coming to us directly, so he says, but so far the information has panned out. I think this lead is legit.”

“Any idea who your informant is?”

“No, but he says he’s close to finding the mole. I believe he’s working both sides, or at least has an in to Kiss of Death. He knows too many details.”

“Good. We’ve got more than one being watched already. One I’m pretty sure is working for drugs. The other is still up in the air with means and motive.”

“I take it the opportunity’s there?”

“Many times over.”

I glanced down at Topaz. “Fuck, that feels good,” I muttered. She grinned around my cock and worked all the harder on me. Her fingers dug into my thighs as she took as much of me down her throat as she could. I felt her muscles working around my member, trying to milk me of my cum.

“We’ll meet later in the night, Rycks. Let Ripper work over the information you have, and he can give us a full report.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I bit out. I was seriously close to the edge and wanted to hold off. Felt too fucking good to stop now. “Give Lucy my best. I know the pregnancy has been hard on her. If she needs anything I can help with, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Thorn grunted at me. The offer was genuine, but Thorn would never take me up on it unless it was life or death and no one else could help him. He wouldn’t pass it on to Lucy either. At least, not the offer. I didn’t take it personally. We might be loose allies currently, but we were still an outside club, and alliances could change.

When Thorn moved on, I let my gaze quarter the room. Sex everywhere I looked. Even one BDSM scene was happening. The crack of a whip on skin followed by a decidedly feminine cry was sexy as fuck. I thought about asking Topaz if she’d let me scene with her, but it would only have been a halfhearted attempt. She just wasn’t the girl for me.

So why wasn’t I out there looking for my own woman? Or at least a woman I could spend some quality time with? One I could safely fuck every night and not worry about her getting emotionally attached?

That put a damper on my erection. I didn’t go soft, but it took the edge off. I wasn’t out there looking for a woman because women never stayed in my life. They found someone else. Or they died. While I couldn’t lay blame on the former, the latter was my own damned fault. If I couldn’t protect my own woman, I didn’t deserve one.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.

Find Marteeka Online: Website | Facebook | BookBub

New Release: Damned & Confused by Crymsyn Hart #darkfantasy @crymsynhart

Meriel discovers an ancient deck of Tarot cards while cleaning out an old house for her sister. When she opens the box of cards, out pops Wile, a demon hell-bent on protecting her from Raziel, a Prince of Hell.

If Raziel gets the cards and Meriel, he can open a portal to release the devil into the world. Together, Wile and Meriel have to stay one step ahead of Raziel.

The Tarot start to teach her their secrets and help her understand her deepening connection to Wile. Can she learn what she needs to in order to keep the devil at bay and save her demon?

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Preorder for June 18th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Crymsyn Hart

Meriel ran her fingers through her hair and stared at the mess of boxes she had to contend with. Sunlight streamed in through the cobwebbed windows, highlighting the dust she’d stirred by setting foot in the attic. She gathered her hair, twisted it into a bun, and thrust a pen through it. A piece came loose and draped in front of her eyes. She stuck it behind her ear and groaned as she looked at the list of things her sister, Kendra, had left for her to do. Two pages of tasks to get the house cleared out. Kendra had taken over their mother’s cleaning business once she had retired. Since Meriel was out of a job, Kendra had enlisted her to work. The money paid Meriel’s bills, but the work never seemed to end. Meriel knew because she’d worked with her their mother long before Kendra came along. Her little sister never had it as demanding as Meriel did growing up.

Better get to it. She gazed around the attic. Antique furniture piled next to trunks was shoved into the corner. An old sewing machine, a mannequin dummy, and numerous old cardboard boxes waited for her to dig through them. Whatever was written on the side to describe the contents had faded with time. She wiped her hand across her head from the sweat forming on her brow. It was only nine and already the attic was stifling.

Meriel ripped open the first box and found nothing more than old photos, china, and other knickknacks. She moved the box aside and started a pile of things they could sell. She kept on going and got lost in the monotony of pulling boxes and figuring out which things to trash and what could be sold.

By the time she got half the attic sorted, the mound to be tossed far outweighed the pitiful heap of what they could keep. She stopped and took a bottle of water from the cooler. The liquid slipped down her throat, then she ran the perspiring bottle over her forehead and enjoyed the coolness of the water on her skin. She grabbed a box from the trash pile and ventured down to the first floor. She set it down by the front door.

Meriel peered through the dusty window. The breeze had picked up greatly since she had gotten there. She opened the door to get a better look at the sky. A boom of thunder greeted her. A bolt of lightning arced overhead as dark clouds approached the house. An ominous feeling settled over her as she stared at the coming tempest. Her yellow Ford Focus looked like an ant waiting to be squashed by the encroaching storm. Her side vibrated. She dug her phone out of her pocket and saw a tornado warning had been issued for her area.

Metallic pings caught her attention and drew her gaze to her car. Pea-size balls of ice bounced off the hood of her car. Dread crept up her spine as the gale grew bigger. Perfect, I’m stuck in a big creepy house in the middle of a storm. Another boom of thunder and a gush of wind struck. The rain mixed with the hail hit her face, stinging sharply. The clouds had moved in faster than she anticipated. Darkness engulfed the house until it felt like night had fallen. The clouds had taken on a purple-black hue with a tinge of orange mixed in. She heard a crunch. Hail the size of grapefruit had hit her windshield and fell on the roof of her car before rolling off onto the cracked driveway.

Meriel slammed the front door shut. The next roll of thunder shook the house. Sounds like God is doing construction up there. She tried the light switch, but the power flickered and went out. She checked the radar on her weather app. It showed a red and orange blob coming straight at her location. The way the building quaked and with the pounding hail crashing against the house, she wasn’t going to take a chance. Using the flashlight on her phone, she rushed into the kitchen, hoping to find the basement door. Meriel hadn’t explored much of the house except to find the bathroom and the attic. The kitchen appliances were large and from the late 1940s. She pulled open a door by the fridge. A pantry with a few old jars on the shelves. A squeak made her jump as several mice scampered out of the way.

“Mother… fudgenugget. I hate mice.” Meriel slammed the door.

A loud bang overhead didn’t make her feel any better. She heard a soft click and then a creak. Meriel followed the sound and discovered a door in the hallway she had passed by. It blended with the wall so well she didn’t even realize it was there. Stairs led down into the darkness. Her flashlight flickered on and off. Thunder rattled the windows and made her head into the cellar for safety. Rushing wind and pelting rain battered the windows.

The light from her phone let her see the basement filled with more discarded antiques. Besides the collection of antiques, there were shelves of canned goods covered with cobwebs. The cellar fit every stereotype of what a scary basement should be. Spiders hung from their webs. Broken furniture was scattered around. Shelves of canned goods so old the labels had worn off filled one wall. All she needed now was a ghost to pop out and say boo. She glanced at her phone. Great. No signal.

As she moved farther into the basement, she heard water dripping. It led her to another room with a dirt floor. Thick wooden beams supported the floor above. Inside, she found an old well. In the old days, people used to build wells inside the houses. She had never come across it before, though. The sound of the storm didn’t seem as bad. Something about the place didn’t feel right. Water plopped onto her hand. She panned her flashlight around the basement and discovered a wooden door. I wonder where this goes? Let’s find out.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Crymsyn Hart is a National Bestselling author of over eighty paranormal romance and horror novels. Her experiences as a psychic and ghostly encounters have given her a lot of material to use in her books. Vampires, grim reapers, shifters, and other paranormal creatures tend to end up in her books no matter how hard she tries to keep them away.

She currently resides in Charlotte, NC with her hubby and her three dogs. If she’s not writing, she’s curled up with the dogs watching a good horror movie or off with friends.

To find out more about Crymsyn, check out her website on: www.crymsynhart.com

Release Blitz: Scorned Gods by Mychael Black #LGBTQ #darkfantasy @changelingpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Scorned Gods

Author: Mychael Black

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: June 18, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 154

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Urban Fantasy, Multiple Partners, Multisexual & Pansexual, Rock Star, Vampires

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Synopsis

Music isn’t all that Scorned Gods has to offer.

Iconoclast (Scorned Gods 1): Death metal group Scorned Gods needs a new singer. Firestarter’s former lead singer Jason Summerfield and his lover Julian Kristados are back in the United States, and Jason is itching to get back on stage. What he gets, however, is far more than that — and not all of it is good.

Delirium (Scorned Gods 2): Jason and Julian have acquired a new lover, Scorned Gods’ bassist, Saul. But a cult of vampires is hell-bent on starting a war between mortals and vampires. Its first prime targets are psychic vampires like Jason’s bandmates…

Shackled (Scorned Gods 3): With help from an Abaddon ally, Jason and his bandmates will have to act quickly to stop Harlan Yates. The escaped mortal, Daniel, is the unwilling beacon that can bring destruction upon them all.

Karma’s Brutality (Scorned Gods 4): With their allies from Abaddon, Jason takes the fight directly to Yates. Jason and his bandmates from Scorned Gods are about to discover combat is not for the faint of heart. Not everyone will come out unscathed, but that’s the nature of war.

Publisher’s Note: Scorned Gods (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Iconoclast, Delirium, Shackled, and Karma’s Brutality.

Excerpt

Scorned Gods (Box Set)
Mychael Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Mychael Black
Excerpt from Iconoclast

The door slammed shut, and Saul Calderon glanced at his bandmates. “Well, that was a waste of time. Now what?”

Twins Nicholas and Dana Reid both sighed, though Dana spoke up first. “Good riddance,” she said. “There are other singers — most with more talent than that jackass had. We can find someone.”

“Hopefully in enough time to actually learn the songs,” her brother grumbled.

Saul sat on the stool beside his amp, his bass resting on his lap. “Where do these fuckers come from? You’d think someone who claims to be a ‘big fan’ would actually know our songs.”

“Hell if I know,” Dana said with a shrug. She set her sticks on her snare and redid her fire-engine red ponytail. Although she and Nicholas were twins, they weren’t identical. She looked nothing like her brother. “We need… new blood.”

A shiver snaked its way up Saul’s spine. None of them had fed in a few days, and although they didn’t drink blood, the urge for it occasionally hit. Dana gave him a knowing look. She’d been the one to bring them together years ago. Back then, they’d only sensed kindred spirits who needed energy to survive. The music had been a happy accident. But even among vampires, their kind were pariahs. Rumors ran rampant about the band members’ true natures, though no one knew the exact truth. Sometimes, they tossed in a random blood feeding onstage just to drive the crowd wild, but Saul preferred tantric energy to blood any day.

“Yo, dude!”

Fingers snapped in front of Saul’s face, and he shook his head. Nicholas gave him a quizzical look.

“Sorry. Just… zoned out, I guess,” Saul said. “Dana’s right, though. We need someone new, someone this fucking city hasn’t heard.”

“Good luck with that,” Nicholas said. “That idiot was number… shit, I don’t even remember now.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Saul wasn’t sure he believed that himself, but it felt good to say, at least. His cell buzzed in his pocket, and he tugged it out to glance at the text message. “Huh.”

“Who is it?” Dana asked.

“Some guy named Jason Summerfield. Says he sang with Firestarter.”

“The pyro band?” Nicholas grinned.

Saul shrugged. “I suppose. I don’t know of any other Firestarter.”

“Didn’t they break up a few years ago?” Dana began packing her things. “I caught one of their shows. If it’s the same guy, he’s fucking good.”

Saul read the text aloud:

My name is Jason Summerfield. I found your ad and am looking for a new band. I just moved to town a few weeks ago, but I fronted Firestarter for several years in Atlanta.

“What have we got to lose?” Nicholas asked as he put away his guitar.

“I’ll set up a time tomorrow then,” Saul said.

While Noah and Dana finished getting their things together, Saul replied to the text.

Hey there. I’ve heard of Firestarter, though I never saw you guys live. I play bass for Scorned Gods. I’d like to meet and chat, see if you’d be a good fit. When’s a good time for you?

A few minutes passed, and Saul walked Dana and Noah to the front door of his loft. Just as he shut the door, his phone buzzed again.

Anytime tonight would be great.

He texted back, How about eight?

Sounds great.

Awesome. I know a cool little coffeehouse downtown called Urban Joe’s. Need directions?

Nah. I can find it. See you then.

Saul grinned. If this guy was as good as Dana claimed, maybe things would work out after all. He grabbed his laptop off the kitchen table and sat down on the couch. A quick Google search yielded photos, mp3 clips, and vids of Firestarter. Saul stared at a promo pic of Jason Summerfield.

“Holy shit, he’s hot.”

Purchase

Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

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, watching Netflix, and spending way too much time on Facebook. Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is bio-female, mentally male, and 100% genderfluid, so any pronoun works!

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Nighted by Torri Heat #darkfantasy #paranormalromance @torriheat

Jasper and Ava have made it through every hurdle thrown their way — together. Their relationship is stronger — and hotter — than ever. But now something new and deadly is after Ava. The pair also can’t forget the minor detail that her mother is still missing.

The supernatural world is dangerous, and full of things that go bump in the night. Will they be able to find the monster before the monster finds her?

Available Today at Changeling Press

Preorder for June 18th at online booksellers

Praise for Nighted (Darkling 3)

“I’ve been following Torri’s work from Nyctophilia and with every new piece I become more and more invested. I adore the progression Torri has created between each of her installments in her Darkling Series… I adore her characters even more. [The] romance with Jasper is just absolutely superb. Their dynamic connection and spice is everything.”

— 5 Stars from Jennifer Claire, Goodreads Review

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Torri Heat

If I thought back really far, I could almost remember my mother telling me a story. About creatures who lived in the woods, and monsters that went bump in the night. Bedtime stories created to scare children. Except I was no longer a child, and I knew better now than to think those stories were made up.

None of this mattered anymore. My mother and I had no relationship left, and this was definitely not the time for a casual discussion on children’s stories. I had bigger things to worry about. The forest I was currently sprinting through full tilt was far from imaginary, although the scene could’ve been from a dream. The dense foliage was thick with new growth, lush like a fairy tale. Bright flowers bloomed in the small gaps of sunlight. The only thing missing was the bird song, preferably from a friendly bluebird Instead, the only thing I heard as I ran was the sound of my own heartbeat.

I wanted to stop and catch my breath, but I couldn’t. He’d find me, and that was a whole world of trouble I didn’t even want to contemplate. So I kept running, my heartbeat keeping time with my silent footsteps.

There were perks to being a Venator, and then there were skills I had worked my ass off to learn. The quiet way I could move through the forest was one of those skills I was most proud of, and my talent was paying off tenfold at the moment. My original plan had been to do a wide circle in the woods, coming out at the far end, which hadn’t been working out for me so far. Venator or not, my stamina wasn’t unlimited. What I needed was a distraction, or some way to let me loop back on myself. I eyed the aging trees as I ran deeper. The thick vines desperately making their way skyward were too new to provide any real support, but they might give me some traction if I could find a tree small enough to find good holds. Just ahead of me I found my target. A tree younger than the rest with some low limbs, but not fully covered in the twining green ropes. Perfect.

I jumped, reaching for the first low limb and pulling myself into the tree. I continued to climb until I was high enough in the leaves that I was unable to be seen but could still hear everything going on below me. Unfortunately, this vantage point also left my vision partially obstructed. I would have to rely on a combination of my senses and hope for the best. I pulled myself as small as I could, straining my ears to hear the sounds beneath my hiding place. I needed to wait until he passed by me, and then I could make my way back out of the woods. Easy. I had outmaneuvered wolves loads of times. My breath and my heart kept an odd melody in my head, and I forced myself to slow down. I needed to listen.

I heard the heavy breathing first. I must have pulled up at the perfect time, because he wasn’t far behind me. I could hear sniffing down the trail I had followed. I pulled my feet even closer to my body, willing my heart to be silent. I had come this far. I could make it a little while longer. I kept count of the seconds, tapping my finger on my tight black shirt. One. Two. Three. There was the swish of a tail in the bushes beneath me. I could see the edges of the damp fur but couldn’t make out the whole body. Holding my breath, I waited to see if he would find my hiding spot or would move on. Four. Five. Six. The fur slowly disappeared, and the sniffing faded out further along the trail. I would give him a couple more minutes, just to make sure, and then I would jump down and move. Seven. Eight. Nine. My hiding spot had been a success. There was no more sign of him. Now I only needed to get back in one piece. I took a deep breath and jumped down.

Ten.

I took a quick look around me, feeling satisfied I hadn’t been found out. I turned on my heel to head back the way I had come, before he noticed I was no longer ahead of him. But before I could move, something snaked out from the left of me and grabbed my wrist. My heart stopped. Shit.

“What gave me away?” My voice sounded a lot braver than I felt. Bravery was a constant work in progress, especially when the supernatural world wasn’t one you were expecting to find yourself living in.

Jasper smirked. “Your scent was all over those vines, Green. You should know better than to climb on the greenery without masking your scent first.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Torri Heat has always loved control. Her mind was blown when she discovered she could control entire worlds through story writing. Throw some steamy romance in there, and it was pretty close to perfection. Torri loves dark heroes who ride off into the sunset on their motorcycles, fierce heroines who can fend for themselves, and a sprinkle of the paranormal to keep things interesting. When she’s not creating alternate realities you can find her managing her three ring circus of kids and animals.  

Find Torri Online: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

New Release: Dire Wolves (paperback) by Shelby Morgen and Lena Austin #paranormalromance #LGBTQ @shelbymorgen @Lena_Austin

Whiteout by Shelby Morgen: Zan gives John a reason to want to live as a man again. But before he can make that kind of promise, he’s got unfinished business to take care of.

Silence by Lena Austin: Noel Miller, a vampire with a few scars of his own, wants to be more than Cam’s sign language interpreter. If only the werewolf will let him into his life — and heart.

White Heat by Shelby Morgen: Heather Grant’s got far too much experience working with stubborn males. She figures it would serve both Alphas right if their pride blows their cover. But someone’s got to salvage the mission.

Available in paperback at Amazon

Praise for Dire Wolves (Box Set)


“…a collection that grabs the reader, takes them on a journey, and ensures some cold showers. Erotic, captivating, and deliciously carnal are how I would describe The Dire Wolves Anthology. It is definitely worth reading, worth adding to one’s reading library, and well worth re-reading.”— 4 Stars from Nikki, Sensuous Reviews  

“This book hooked me from the get go. I just couldn’t put it down. I fell in love with these characters… just a perfect read.” — 5 Stars from Jeanne, Amazon Review

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021
Excerpt from Silence by Lena Austin

“Danse Macabre” was a lousy choice for a ring tone, but Detective Cameron Douglas always thought about it when he had the least amount of time to change the ring to something else. The tune was the last he’d ever hear. Cam didn’t know that sad fact, or he’d have changed the ring sooner.

Cam snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open as soon as he saw it was his boss, Lt. Kraynak. “Hey, Mark! You caught me just leaving the mayor’s office.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s voice always sounded nervous, but at that moment, he sounded as squeaky as a girl. Cam always wondered if Mark was as closet gay as Cam himself. “How’d it go?”

Cam sighed. The investigation into the death of the mayor’s secretary, Margaret Lund, was supposed to be kept very quiet and low-key. “We got the blood from her apartment at the lab, looking for DNA. They seem to be consistent with the defensive marks found on her body despite floating around in the St. John’s River for a while. I’ve got a few good leads.” He had to be vague. Cam couldn’t exactly tell his boss he was a werewolf and he’d caught an odd, masculine scent in Margaret’s apartment. He knew any sort of masculine odor didn’t belong in that apartment because Margaret and his mother had been lovers for over twenty years. Not exactly what you want the whole world to know. Mom had been in the closet all her life, and he wasn’t about to out her when she was mourning “Aunt Maggie’s” death. Dad would turn over in his grave, the day care she’d run for fifteen years would close, and her life would be in ruins. What she and Maggie had enjoyed just wasn’t ever going to be public, and that wasn’t admissible evidence anyway.

He could see it now. Him, on the witness stand. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m a werewolf you see, and I sniffed this odor…” He winced, even to himself.

“I don’t like it, Cam. You shouldn’t be on this case. Ms. Lund was your mother’s best friend. You could be called prejudiced in court.” Mark popped another gumball in his mouth. Cam heard it rattle against his teeth before it crackled as he chewed it into oblivion. Mark’d been trying to quit smoking again, and kept a gumball bank on his desk.

“I don’t like it, either, Mark. Where His Honor got the idea I’d be the only detective who could do the job is beyond me.” Cam was in sight of his car at last. The covered parking garage across the street from City Hall was a piece of shit like all the rest of downtown. Half the security cameras didn’t work at the best of times, and the roof leaked whenever it rained. So where was he parked? On the roof. In the rain. Of course. So he was wet. It was Florida. Not like he would melt. He was a werewolf, not a witch, and this wasn’t Hollyweird.

The beep in his ear made him jump, and the caller ID told him it was Mom. “Hey, I’m at my car. Hang on a sec.” Cam flipped over to his mother’s call and sat down on a bench about fifty feet from his car, in the shelter covering the elevator. “Hi, Mom.” He frowned and noticed the hood of his car was slightly ajar. That was odd. He distinctly remembered changing the oil the previous Sunday and slamming the hood closed because he hated working in the hot sun.

He never heard her answer. Hell, he never heard anything except the biggest boom on the planet.

Waking up wasn’t like someone flipped on a light switch. It was more like a lazy Sunday morning when you didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything in particular, so you could roll over and laze in bed. That is, until your bladder or some other bodily need woke you up.

What woke him up was pain. Cam had the worst headache ever, even beyond hangovers and mild concussions from playing rugby. Cam felt like he’d been run over by a semi, too, with a backache from lying in one position too long on top of assorted injuries. Worst of all was the ringing in his ears. Tinnitus, he guessed. Not bad, since Cam had to assume he’d survived that explosion. Hell, he counted himself lucky when he opened his eyes and saw his left leg in bandages, not a cast. If a headache, a bum leg, and a case of tinnitus were all he had to suffer through, Cam was happy.

A nurse peeked in. She saw Cam was awake and smiled at him. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears. She frowned when Cam told her she’d have to speak up, and would she bring him something for the headache and tinnitus? She turned around and walked out without another word. She was back with something she shot into his IV. Whatever it was put him out like a light. Pain, tinnitus, and consciousness all went away at once.

When next Cam could put two words together in a coherent sentence, the clock on the wall and the darkness out the window gave him a clue it was 7:30 PM, not AM. He’d slept away the whole day. Great. Now his ears were sore.

A young man in a lab coat read a book in the corner chair, even though the only light source was the fluorescent above the head of Cam’s bed. The guy’s eyesight must have been superlative. He looked up slowly, and Cam was completely arrested — pardon the pun — by his eyes. They were big, blue and so world-weary Cam wanted to — maybe buy the kid a cup of coffee and give him a sympathetic ear. Then the newcomer smiled, and the world was all sunshine and cheer. The young man tapped on the keyboard of his laptop without taking his gaze off Cam’s face.

Cam moved restlessly under that intense blue gaze that did not in the least match with the smile. Cam opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when the screen on a laptop left on his lap table brightened. He frowned and studied the screen. “Can you read this?” Surprised, Cam nodded without thinking.

The blue-eyed man smiled and nodded. “Good. How’s your tinnitus?” lit up on the screen in a standard IM chat feature of a common website.

“Um… should I answer aloud?” Cam felt suddenly adrift in a strange sea, unsure of himself for the first time since college. Still, he did an internal check, and the buzzing still filled his ears like a thousand crickets on speed. “Yep, still have the crickets.” The realization hit him. “The explosion caused this tinnitus, didn’t it?”

“Yes, Mr. Douglas. Please speak more softly.” The IM kept up easily, and the young man’s hands flew silently but rapidly over the tiny keyboard. Damn, this guy was good.

Oops. Cam wasn’t stupid. He knew that those with hearing issues often spoke too loudly, trying to over-compensate for their loss. He modified his volume. “Um. Sorry.” He clung to the thin thread of hope that the tinnitus was causing his hearing loss, but he knew a bunch of cops who’d neglected ear protection at the shooting range once too often. Tinnitus could be permanent, or worse, the symptom of something much, much worse.

The IM lit up with several lines in rapid succession. “My name is Noel Miller, and I am your ENT therapist.” Now the cheer was gone, and the face serious.

Cam’s heart hammered, and he swallowed to help his suddenly dry mouth. Fear, ice-cold and cruel, raced up his spine. Part of him was grateful he still had painkillers in his system. Deep inside himself, a little kid threw a major temper tantrum, even if he held himself rigidly under control. “I’m deaf, aren’t I?”

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Shelby Morgen

Shelby Morgen loves writing offbeat tales that defy as many rules as possible.

She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, suspense with her romance, and kink with her sex, and she’s always had a hard time keeping science fiction, fantasy and paranormal from mixing with her kink.

Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her longtime friend and partner, Bill, her husband of nearly four decades.

Lena Austin

Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you’ll have many tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena’s a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba — she’s got a lifetime of “Research material!”

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won’t listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something?

New Release: Titan/Grease Monkey paperback by Harley Wylde #mcromance #agegap @HarleyW_Writer

She’s meant to be mine — no matter what her family thinks. And I’ll bury anyone who hurts her.

Titan (Hades Abyss MC 5):
Delilah — My three older brothers and overprotective father have run off every guy I’ve ever tried to date. It’s time I made a life of my own. I never thought I’d end up in a motorcycle club, working as a webcam girl. When the club President, Titan, kisses me, then issues a challenge, how can I possibly refuse?

Titan — I’m a possessive bastard. One kiss is all it takes to know Delilah belongs to me. When she’s taken, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back, and I’ll bury anyone who’s hurt her. Delilah’s mine, and I’ll kill to protect her.

Grease Monkey — A Bad Boy Romance
For all appearances, Gwen’s daddy’s little darling — a socialite with more money than sense — but what she really wants is to break free from her gilded cage. When her Mercedes breaks down, Gwen’s knight in shining tow trucks turns out to be more than she expected. Will the hot mechanic be the first guy to rock her world?

Bonus: Includes Titan (Hades Abyss MC 5) Deleted Scene — What happened when Titan sent Patriot to get MaryAnne…

Available at Amazon

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde

The rooms where the girls held their shows had a small bathroom where they could shower and change after. I didn’t lurk in the hall like a creeper, but I did stick to the end of the bar nearest the rooms while I nursed a beer. When Delilah came out, her cheeks rosy and a smile on her lips, I wanted to wrap her in my arms and kiss the hell out of her.

“Have a good show?” I asked with a wink.

Her smile broadened. “Always. I wasn’t too loud, was I?”

“If you get a salute from every guy in here, then it just means you’re doing your job right. We don’t have to watch. Just listening to you is enough to make men want to fuck you.”

Her cheeks went crimson and she ducked her head, but not before I saw a pleased little grin on her lips. She was a contradiction. Bold and sassy enough to do a live webcam show of her getting herself off for money, but in person she seemed almost shy at times. It was cute as fuck, just like her. I reached out and ran my fingers through her hair, unable to help myself.

“I like it,” I said. When she’d first arrived, her hair had been a medium brown, not too far off from the color of my hair. Since I’d last seen her, she’d dyed it black with purple streaks. It made her look as pale as Snow White, and her vivid blue eyes stood out even more.

She came a little closer, her fingers tightening on the strap of her bag giving an indication she might be nervous. “Thank you. Not just for the compliment, but for giving us a safe place to work. I know the club takes a cut, but it’s better than trying to do this at the apartment. I’d be scared someone would find me.”

“Not going to let anything hurt you, angel.” I stroked my finger down her nose, then leaned back a little so I wouldn’t be tempted to do far more. Shit. She had to be half my age. The fact she never tried to get a drink, other than asking for a bottle of water or a soda, made me wonder if she was even twenty-one. I knew she was legal or she wouldn’t be able to do the webcam show at all.

Missy had come to us with the idea a year ago and she’d hashed out the details with the club officers. We got twenty percent from each girl to not only offer protection, but Missy also paid Wizard to set up the site and the programming required for it to work. The woman had started her own company and she’d been smart about it. For a fee, Wizard tracked all the people using the site and made sure it remained operational. How she handled payment to the girls working for her was her business and hers alone.

I always felt bad taking any money from Delilah. Hell, I was the only one paying her. When she paid her twenty percent each week, it was like she’d paid me to watch her get off. Shit. And now I was getting hard again.

“I also wanted to thank you for not… not making me feel like…” She bit her lip and looked away.

“Like a whore?” I asked.

She gave a jerky nod and glanced at me. “I know what I’m doing isn’t exactly conventional. Some guys might consider it prostitution and think they had a right to take what they wanted. I feel safe here. No one ever says anything bad to me. The few who do make remarks are always teasing.”

“You know Missy comes here even when she’s not doing her show, right?” I asked. I wasn’t so sure my brothers were only teasing. Delilah was hot as hell and I knew every damn one of the men in my club would gladly have her on her back, bent over a table, or on her knees. Then I’d have to bust their damn heads. I’d already started to think of her as mine, even though we seldom interacted with one another. They knew how I felt about her, but it didn’t mean they didn’t want her just the same.

“Yeah, she said she likes to party with the club. She’s tried to get me to come with her.”

I straightened, towering over her. “Don’t come to the parties at the clubhouse. You hear me, Delilah?”

Her eyes went wide, and she paled a little before anger tightened her features. “I’m not a child, Titan. If I want to attend a party, I will. It’s why I left home, so I could have a life. I didn’t trade one dad for another.”

Ouch. “Dad? You think I’m your second daddy?”

She visibly swallowed and tried to take a step back, but I reached out and grabbed hold of her arm, yanking her toward me. I leaned down, and my gaze locked with hers.

“Then maybe I ought to turn you over my knee and spank you.”

She gasped and swayed toward me. And in that moment, I knew it was a lost cause. There was no fucking way I’d ever be able to walk away from her. I kissed her. Hard. My tongue thrust between her lips as I took what I wanted, bent her to my will, and had her whimpering for more. Her hands fisted my cut as she clung to me. I wound her long hair around my hand, anchoring her.

I’d always been a demanding man in the bedroom, and it wasn’t something I’d change anytime soon. I liked being in control. The way she melted against me told me enough. She might have some spunk, but deep down, she was a submissive little thing. She’d take my orders and love every second of it.

I nipped her jaw, then put my lips by her ear. “You want to come to a party? Want to know what will happen?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve. 

The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.  

You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

New Release: Getting to You by M.L. Uberti #actionadventure #contemporaryromance @mluberti_writer

Zac Xavier is called from a meeting to find his wife, a teacher, is in a lockdown situation at her school. Rushing across town, he remembers when they first met.

In fear for her life, Emma is determined to protect her students at all costs. But while danger lurks closer, she flashes back to meeting her beloved husband.

Zac won’t stop until Emma’s safe, and Emma will do what she has to in order to protect her students. Will their love affair meet a tragic end or will they get their happily ever after?

Publisher’s Warning: Getting To You involves an Active Shooter school shooting with casualties and may be a trigger for some readers.

Available Today at Changeling Press – Save 20%!

Preorder for June 4th at online retailers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 ML Uberti

The first time I met Emma, I was sitting at the end of the bar, a hole in the wall in the new neighborhood where I had just bought a five-bedroom Tudor in a burgeoning area of Chicago. Oprah, the Obamas, other Hyde Park celebrities were snatching up properties left and right — and I had found a gem that needed restoration but after I flipped it, I could make a mint on it.

And at thirty-seven, that was my life’s goal: making money. I had a lot of it, wanted a fuck ton more, and did everything I could, 24/7, to make it happen. So the four-level Bridgeport Village luxury house with ten foot ceilings was mine to crash in while it was renovated, then I could find somewhere else with the profit and do it all over again.

This would be my sixteenth house in the last decade that I’d make money on. It was just a matter of how much and when.

But while that happened, I needed some place to get a whiskey at the end of the day. I didn’t keep alcohol in the house — another hold over rule from my childhood I couldn’t seem to break. When there was liquor around, my dad drank too much and took out his aggression on me and my brothers’ faces. Then my mom would dump it out, dad would sober up, and things would return to their normal level of dysfunction before disintegrating again.

Master’s Saloon was where I ended up today. It was a three-block walk, not that my driver Wilcox would ever let me fucking walk it, but close was what I wanted. Drunk was what I actually wanted, but I had a five a.m. call with London so that was out. Two whiskeys and home to fall asleep watching the Bulls stomp the Knicks. The hipster bartender with the skinny jeans and cardigan made his way over and took my order, and I read through emails as I sat on a stool and thought about ordering dinner.

“Hi, Silas,” a bright voice sounded beside me, and for some unknown fucking reason, since I usually don’t give a shit about strangers, especially those in a bar with Grey Goose as top shelf, my eyes shifted over.

I didn’t turn my head, just took in the peripheral. I saw a girl, thin, tall, with dark hair pulled high in a ponytail on her head, fingerless mittens on her hands, jumping on the balls of her feet in a pair of Converse that were worn the fuck out and most likely wet from the sloppy inch or two of snow outside.

“Hey Ems — you looking for the box, babe?” the stringy-haired bartender asked as he filled a pint glass.

“Yep! Is it full? Tell me it’s full,” she said, her voice light but deep, raspy. Even sexy-sounding — so much that I actually twisted my neck to take her in.

She was a stunner, that much I could see. Young, way too fucking young for me, probably just out of college. Tight jeans that cupped her perky little ass, with a rip in the knee. A decades-old wool coat that was buttoned up over a sweater that went up to her chin, and when she glanced my way and shot me a casual smile, a smile I could tell she gave to everyone she saw regardless of the circumstance, I saw her eyes were a swirl of green and gold, with long dark lashes that made the face of a pretty girl spectacular.

The bartender chuckled at her brimming excitement. “It’s pretty full, Ems. Gimme a sec and I’ll grab it for ya. Todd locked it in the office so no one swiped anything.”

“Silas, who is going to steal hats and mittens for second graders?” she asked incredulously, then slid into the seat beside mine. “And I’m in no rush. Take your time.”

I wanted to tell him I agreed — he could take his fucking time while this little cutie wiggled her bottom on the chair to try to get comfortable on the hard wood, a scent of citrus and honey wafting from her skin.

She couldn’t sit still, her energy bursting from every inch of her, and I was drawn in by it and her easy, open smile. Which she gave me a second time and I knew if I didn’t talk to her, if I ignored her like most women I came across, I’d regret it.

“You want a drink?” I asked, tipping my whiskey to my lips and taking a small swallow.

She swiveled her head and blinked at me. “Me?”

I looked around, but we were pretty much alone in this corner of the bar by the windows. “Yeah, you.”

“Oh, I’m just picking something up. Some friends of mine put out boxes to collect hats and stuff for my students. I have to swing by three other places tonight if I want to get everything ready for tomorrow,” she explained, keeping those gorgeous eyes on me.

“What’s tomorrow?” I asked, turning toward her in the stool.

The side of her mouth tipped up. “It’s Christmas Eve Eve,” she told me as if that meant something. “It’s the last day of school before the holiday break. And I have like two hundred fifty bundles to make up before tomorrow at seven fifteen a.m.”

“Bundles,” I repeated.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Starbucks aficionado, lover of throw blankets and betrayer of all things kale, ML Uberti is a Wayne State University graduate and Metro Detroit author with a predilection for oddities and happy endings. She is mom to three autistic kids, 2 ridiculously stupid dogs and wife of a teacher and musician who has endless patience for her impeccably bad taste in Netflix shows and murder documentaries. She is thrilled to dip her toe into scifi romance from contemporary and hopes you enjoy her big, brooding alien alphas and resilient fairy tale queens.

New Release: Demonium Rex – AKA Buttercup by Stephanie Burke #LGBTQ #urbanfantasy @FlashyCat

Win is a writer with a new house, a new life, and a rapidly approaching deadline. She doesn’t have time for the voices in her head to be demanding attention. She just wants to finish her book and maybe get laid. But what will she do when the character her subconscious dreams up starts becoming corporeal?

Demonium Rex is the undisputed king of all sexual demons, but when his people come to him with a mark who refuses to crack, he takes action. Now he is stuck in a non-corporeal form while the woman he needs to seduce is too stubborn to just let it happen. And even worse, she sticks him with a stupid name. But in the end, he will show her who’s the real King — or his name isn’t Buttercup.

Available Today at Changeling Press – Save 20%!

Preorder for June 4th at online retailers

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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.