Guest Post: Unmasked (box set) by Angela Knight #urbanfantasy #actionadventure @AngelaKnight

UNMASKING THE HEAT

By Angela Knight

I’ve always thought comics were sexy.

That may seem a little weird, until I tell you I discovered comics about the time I hit puberty. When I was twelve, my grandmother passed away, and my mother took me to a therapist. He had an enormous stack of Batman comic books in his lobby, and he gave them to me. I took them home, and I was hooked.

The Batman artist of my teenage years was Neal Adams, who made Batman look sexy and tormented — and basically naked as he chased Catwoman all over Gotham. One of my favorite Pinterest images recently is of Bats holding Catwoman with her whip wrapped around his throat. (Though the Batman of my imagination has always seemed more of a sonofabitch Dominant than anything else. It isn’t much of a stretch. That character is a bit of a bastard even in 1990’s cartoons.)

Years later, my first published work was in comics – a three-issue mini-series called Cycops about three cops with computers implants in their brains. I basically used the same idea in my Time Hunters series for Berkley Sensation. Like the Cycops, the Warlords had the abilities to draw on brief explosions of superhuman strength.

Power has always fascinated me. For one thing, I believe we have more of it than we think we do, something we often discover only when we’re backed into a corner.

That’s why I write the stories I do – about people waging desperate battle against evil for those they love. It’s only then they discover their inner superheroes, realizing they have more strength than they ever knew. We become our own superheroes only by being tested.

Besides, with great power come great sex!

Unmasked (Box Set)

Things get hot when heroes take off their masks — among other things!

Hero Sandwich: When Meg Jennings finds herself at the mercy of a pair of kinky heroes, she discovers keeping a wicked secret can be good, dirty fun.

Voodoo: Voodoo is tired of waiting for Lynx. Time to show him everything she can do with her psychic superpowers.

Taming Jack: Lark Anderson is determined to save Deputy Jack Ramsey — even if it means accepting an inhuman invader.

Natasha and the Android: When Natasha is kidnapped by an android supervillain who wants to find out why humans are so obsessed with sex, she realizes the dark side has a lot more going for it than she thought.

Masks & Mistletoe: From rescuing a ten-year-old from an evil Santa to celebrating a BDSM Christmas, superheroes Lock and Ultra explore discipline, dominance and the kinky way…

Publisher’s Note: Unmasked (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Hero Sandwich, Voodoo, Taming Jack, Natasha and the Android, and Masks & Mistletoe.

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Angela Knight
Excerpt from Hero Sandwich

Meg Jennings stepped out onto the roof of her apartment building, her boots scraping on the concrete. Below, horns honked and an eighteen-wheeler growled in acceleration as a fire truck wailed its way down the street.

Restless, she strode to the roof’s edge. All around her, the lights of Manhattan glittered in the darkness as if the stars had showered down to earth. Meg stared downward, brooding.

She’d had no choice except to break it off with Richard tonight. Much as she loved him, she couldn’t keep tolerating his secrecy, his habit of disappearing, his evasiveness. She couldn’t even remember the last time they’d actually ended a date without him being called off by some mysterious phone call. Any explanation he’d bothered to give afterward always had the ring of a lie.

Meg had lived a double life long enough to recognize the signs in somebody else. She knew what she was doing in hers. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know what Richard was doing with his.

Maybe he was a hero, risking his life in the pursuit of justice. But there was something about Richard, something just a little bit dark, a little bit ruthless. That sounded more like villain than hero to Meg — and she wasn’t willing to go down that particular road again. She didn’t like where it led.

Even so, the expression on his handsome face when she’d told him it was over had stabbed into her soul. Pain and vulnerability were not emotions she associated with Richard Drake, billionaire captain of industry.

She’d found herself explaining. “I just can’t live with the lies anymore, Richard.”

A cool gleam of determination replaced the pain in those wolf-pale eyes. “We all have our secrets, Meg. And we all tell lies.” Then he’d walked out.

Now she glowered at the city below. We all have our secrets. What the hell did that mean?

With a huff, Meg stepped off the edge of the roof and into empty air. For an instant, she fell like a rock. Then the generators in her suit started pumping out lev-fields, and she rose slowly skyward like a soap bubble on the breeze.

Absently, she watched the traffic stream below her boots in a river of headlights. Was this what Richard meant? Did he know what she was? And would he tell anyone in that other life she suspected he led?

If he did, he might as well paint a target on her chest and declare open season. Too many pissed-off villains — and even a few heroes — had sworn to take revenge on Paparazzi for the photos she’d taken. If any of them ever found out who she was, she wouldn’t have a prayer.

It was hard to believe Richard would deliberately endanger her that way. But then, she didn’t really know him, did she? That was the whole problem.

Frowning, Meg stretched her body out in the air, letting the lev-fields cradle her in invisible lines of force. With one hand, she checked the bag attached to her equipment belt. Her camera gear was safely stowed, ready for the night’s adventures. Taking a deep breath, she slowly flexed her toes, triggering the acceleration controls in her boots. Instantly, she shot forward, propelled by the levitation fields rippling around her.

It was ironic, really. If her father hadn’t been such an adrenaline junkie, he could have been pulling in billions in patent proceeds. The American military would have paid a great deal for a suit that could both levitate its wearer and turn him invisible.

Unfortunately, exploiting his inventions had always held less appeal for Gerald Jennings than committing crimes as the supervillain Bankbuster. He and his partner Nightwolf had terrorized New York together, in between battles with superheroes like Cougar and Lynx. Which was why Gerald was doing fifty in Attica now instead of living the high life in Acapulco.

Meg was lucky she hadn’t gone down with him. When she’d turned fifteen, Nightwolf had lost a fight with Cougar and gone to jail. Her father hated working alone, so he gave her a lev-suit and forced her to become his sidekick, Sneak Thief. For the next two years, she’d lived in a constant state of terror as they used their suits in nighttime bank robberies.

Finally, Meg could take no more. She told her father she’d robbed her last bank. Enraged, Gerald beat her so badly, he had to take her to the hospital before he robbed the bank he’d targeted. Cougar and Lynx caught him that very night.

Bankbuster’s conviction freed Meg from her life of crime, but it also left her with a very big problem. Her mother was dead, and the money Gerald had left in an offshore bank wouldn’t last long. Though she was old enough to go out on her own by then, she had no way to support herself except minimum-wage jobs.

Meg briefly considered selling her own suit to the Army, but she didn’t know how it worked. Besides, admitting she had Sneak Thief’s costume wasn’t exactly a good move, given the charges hanging over her head. She had to find another way to make a living.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Angela Knight’s romance writing career began in 1996, when she realized her dream of romance publication with Red Sage’s Secrets anthology. She is a New York Times best-selling author of more than fifty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Time Hunters series. Her career spans twenty plus years. Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine gave her a Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for best erotic romance and best werewolf romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press. She also teaches online writing courses with SavvyAuthors.com. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

New Release: A Shot in Darkness by Lou Sylvre #LGBTQ #RomanticSuspense @sylvre

Sure the danger that dogged their steps in Los Angeles has finally passed, Brian and Jackie seal their hopes for a new beginning with a New Year’s Eve kiss. Though Brian’s trauma at the hands of criminals has left its mark, they do their best to leave troubles behind and enjoy a Scotland honeymoon. The ancient city of Glasgow offers nightlife, historic sites, long walks through snowfall, great Scotch whisky, a cozy fireside — and a blazing hot private encounter with a cool, cool ghost.

But every time somebody wins, someone else loses. When Brian helped State Department cop Jesse Douglas take down a crime ring, a rogue FBI agent lost everything. She blames Brian, and with the help of false identities and very good skills at disguise, tracking him and Jackie down in Scotland poses no problem. When a final encounter in the Highlands turns deadly, the key to keeping Brian alive lies in Jackie’s hands. With everything he loves at stake, can he call up love, courage and confidence in time to take that single, vital shot in darkness?

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Lou Sylvre

To most people, it might not seem possible that a month could go by while a newlywed couple hardly spoke to each other. But as Jackie sat in his great-uncle Kaholo’s Nebraska living room staring out the bay window while, outside, December shed snow all over its last abbreviated afternoon, he reflected that this was exactly what had happened to Brian and him.

That truth didn’t surprise him in the least. The last crazy weeks had only been a continuation of the chaos that had started long before their wedding. The events they’d begun by calling “the Espen case” and ended up calling “the mess with that asshole Vintner” had started weaving its sticky web in and around Jackie and Brian’s lives almost a full year earlier. The day Brian walked into Vasquez Security, Incorporated’s Los Angeles office to take on the role of branch manager, he’d walked into the first ropy but invisible strands of disaster.

If only Brian had known what was to come, maybe he would have turned back around and walked out.

No. He wouldn’t have.

Jackie almost laughed at the notion as soon as he thought it. Brian had been hired by Jackie’s uncle Luki, who owned the company, to do a job. He just wasn’t the kind of guy to renege on a commitment once he’d made it.

Probably why he stayed with me.

Yeah. Their love story hadn’t been a bed of roses either, even though Brian had a funny habit of bringing the fragrant blossoms home and sticking them all over their apartment in vases in an effort to romance Jackie, his chosen lover and submissive. And now… husband. He’d tried so hard to get Jackie to take his marriage proposal seriously, but Jackie had artfully dodged it for months. Perhaps that was understandable, in light of everything else that was going on.

Jackie had relocated to Los Angeles to be with Brian, and the city’s devil Santa Ana winds — and the memories and associations they held for a once-fragile Jackie — had assaulted him from day one. LA had not been kind to him when he was a homeless teen, and it continued its mean tradition now, almost a decade later. He’d witnessed a kidnapping, and the same day had an accident that set him back on his heels physically and mentally, then as soon as he recovered, another one. And then an amputation. The months and months of disbelief and hurting and healing and grief that followed remained in Jackie’s memory a strange nightmare, as if the time then had been a living thing.

And it hadn’t been an easy time for Brian either. But, even then, long before any vows were said, Brian had certainly made a commitment to himself to be the lover, the Dom, the man Jackie could count on. And he had stayed, remained steady at Jackie’s side even when Jackie had tried to shut him out. He’d cried, he’d loved, he’d cajoled and comforted. He had failed, at times. In an odd twist, sometimes broken Jackie had led Brian out of darkness.

But when Jackie’s chips were all in and he desperately needed a win, Brian had come through and played the best cards in his deck. He’d shown Jackie love, wrapped him in safe, careful knots, and set him flying in joy.

”Look,” he’d said. “You’re beautiful. I want you to see it. I want you to know.”

Jackie had seen, and his love for Brian, already spreading wide, had grown deep roots that, he liked to think, helped them both hold steady when the shit started hitting the world’s biggest fan.

The shit — the detritus of the Espen-Lieb-Vintner disaster — had been lying littered over their lives in Los Angeles. The Thanksgiving holiday break they’d taken in Colorado, complete with everything from a private night of fun kink, to a relaxed and joyful family dinner, was like fresh air. Maybe it made them a little high, because they got married while they were there.

Cue the giant fan.

The Colorado fairy tale ended, and the nightmare of the next few weeks began. Jackie hadn’t been with Brian — first his new leg needed fixing, then he’d been taken into hiding for safety. But Brian had almost constantly faced imminent danger, and Jackie’d hardly slept.

For weeks he’d worried, while Brian, on his own in LA, went undercover as an informer for the feds, at the same time pretending to work for Vintner, who could vie for the title of “nastiest piece of criminal shit Jackie had ever encountered.”

Then came the day the tide of trouble had turned to crisis, when Brian had been taken off the streets at gunpoint to be Vintner’s “guest.” The police sting went all wrong, but that same day Vintner’s organization imploded. Shot point blank and carrying the bullet in his abdomen, Brian escaped through LA’s network of tunnels. While Jackie’s uncle Luki helped the law bring down Vintner aboveground, Brian had hung on to consciousness in the hidden corridors underground and somehow done what was in front of him to do — bring a bad man out of the tunnels to face justice and shepherd a remnant of Vintner’s trafficking victims to safety.

That, Jackie thought, was courage.

But that hadn’t been the worst of it for Jackie. Because an ambulance took Brian away — in custody, as if he was the criminal, and Jackie waited for hours in what might have been the coldest, harshest surgical waiting room ever, at County-USC hospital. He got word that Brian was safe, out of surgery, recovering, and he breathed. But he couldn’t see him. Brian was in police custody — a jail inmate. Jackie hadn’t cried then, nor when Sonny hugged him and took him “home” to a hotel room. He’d figured he was just too tired and burnt to cry, yet his wet pillow and sore eyes told him he’d cried in the night.

As if he’d been keeping his tears secret even from himself.

It would have been difficult — impossible — to pretend all that hadn’t happened. If he could have, though, he would have jumped at the chance. Now that it was all over but the shouting, as they say, it felt impossibly heavy.

All of which was why tonight — New Year’s Eve — with its implied celebration of fresh starts, seemed like an extraordinary gift…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lou Sylvre loves romance with all its ups and downs, and likes to conjure it into books. The sweethearts on her pages are men who end up loving each other — and usually saving each other from unspeakable danger. It’s all pretty crazy and very, very sexy. As if you’d want to know more, she’ll happily tell you that she is a proudly bisexual woman — a mother, grandmother, lover of languages, and cat-herder — of mixed cultural heritage. She works closely with lead cat and writing assistant, the (male) Queen of Budapest, Boudreau St. Clair. She lives in the rainy part of the Pacific Northwest, and hearing from a reader infallibly brightens the dreary weather. Find her through her links listed here, or drop her a line at lou.sylvre@gmail.com.

New Release: Biological Instinct by M.A. Freeman #paranormalromance #shifters @writingmaf

Melanie: The plan is simple. Go on vacation and finally relax after five solid years of hard work. How was she supposed to know her well-meaning friends would hijack said vacation to set her up with a drool-worthy photographer — or that their setup would lead to a whole host of other problems like kidnapping, illegal experimentation, and weirdest of all, psychic abilities? Through it all is Liam, a written-off experiment, and their overwhelming connection.

Liam: Nothing is ever simple when it comes to Liam and the entity that lives inside him. All he knows is the entity is pushing for him to get to know Melanie. Their connection is undeniable, and it’s of interest to the ones who created him in a lab, as well. Liam’s one of the few of their experiments that worked, and the only one to form a bond outside of their scientific creations.

Warning: This book references memories of childhood abuse that may be triggers for some readers.

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 M.A. Freeman

“I still don’t understand your choice of vacation, Mel. You live at the beach. Granted not on the beach, but close enough. Why’re you going to some random tropical island again?”

Melanie rolled her eyes at the angst-ridden demand as she continued to sort through the freshly washed clothes piled on her bed. She should have known better than to wait until the last minute, but making sure her office could function while she was away had tied up more of her time than expected. The whole situation with Patton Photography was just unfortunate.

“Are you ignoring me?” A ball of socks flew through the air and hit Melanie in the head. “I’m making a valid point about your vacation locale!”

She turned to face her best friend, Lorelei Sapelo, and smirked. “Yes, I am. The beach here and the beach on an island are two different beasts. Besides, I’m more excited about the jungle than the ocean.”

Lorelei sighed as she plopped down on the clothes-covered bed. “You’re usually more organized than this. Why’re you packing so late? Where’s the crazy OCDness I had to deal with all through college?”

Yanking on the sleeve of a T-shirt until Lorelei shifted her fat butt, Melanie pulled out the extra large tee and began to roll it into a tube. “There’s been a lot going on at work I wanted to handle myself. Besides, I don’t want all the hard work I’ve put into getting the editorial staff in shape to implode while I’m gone.”

“I know what you mean.” Lorelei shoved more clothes closer to Melanie.

“One day…” She held up her index finger for emphasis. “… is all it takes for all your hard work to just poof out of existence.”

“At least I have Rose to handle anything serious while I’m away. Your one-man show at your job is just asking for a headache. All those dusty tomes. My allergies would make me pay in so many ways, all of them horrible. Are you going to help me pack or just watch? I can’t be late to the airport in the morning.”

“You’re not going to be late. I’ll have you there in plenty of time.” Lorelei bounced off the bed and pawed through Melanie’s neatly organized closet. “Are you not taking anything but casual clothes? What if you meet a hot guy and you’re wearing grandma shorts?”

“Those are Bermuda shorts, and I’m taking a few maxi dresses and skirts as well, so I’ll try to meet this ‘hot guy’ while I’m wearing one of those.”

Lorelei sniffed, but she stopped messing up her closet. “There’s no need for that snippy tone, Melanie! I’m trying to be a true friend and help you not die an old cat lady.”

Melanie burst out laughing. “You know, I’m thinking of getting a cat when I return. It would be nice to come home to someone even if it is only an animal.”

“I rest my case, budding cat lady. Please don’t become a stereotype because I’ll never forgive you, knowing I’ll probably share the same fate.”

Bras, underwear, and a variety of mix and match bathing suits were added to the suitcase. “You’re not a cat person, so I doubt that will happen to you, Lori.” Melanie glanced around and frowned. “Would you check the bathroom for my toiletry case while I figure out where to put my shoes?”

Lorelei wandered into the bathroom, her voice slightly muffled. “Your less-than-concerned attitude concerns me. Oh my God, you met a guy, didn’t you?!” She returned, clutching the toiletry case. “Who is he? Do I know him? How hot is he? He’s not an idiot or a serial killer, is he?” She paused for breath before shaking her head. “No, you wouldn’t tolerate a moron, no matter how pretty, and a serial killer would already be taken care of.”

“This tendency you have to jump to weird conclusions will get you in serious trouble one day.” Melanie neatly situated her toiletry case in the space she had saved before adding a few other miscellaneous items: outlet adapters, copies of all her travel documents, and backup chargers for her cell phone and tablet. “And I haven’t met anyone. It was at work.”

“Ooooh, you’re lying. Tell me about Mr. Work?”

Knowing nothing would budge Lorelei when she got stubborn, Melanie went into the living room and grabbed her tablet off the coffee table. A few taps and the image of a lush jungle came into view. That was what she showed Lorelei.

Her eyes examined the picture for a moment and widened when she found the hidden jaguar perched in the trees. The incredible, close jaguar that stared from the image with boneless curiosity.

“How did he take this without getting eaten?”

Melanie reached over and tapped the image again to get the byline information to come up. “I’d like to know that, too, because you and I both know there was no zoom involved, and the camera wasn’t perched in the tree. However, Mr. Patton has been out of the country for months, and when he is stateside, he’s basically a recluse.”

Lorelei read the short byline information before handing the tablet back to Melanie. “So, spill. What sort of contact have you had? And where’s a picture?”

A few more taps on the tablet and Melanie answered, “Like I said, it’s been for work. We’ve been communicating through email about an issue with some of the photographs. Nothing personal has been involved, so you can get that gleam out of your eyes. I would like to meet him because there’s something about his photos, and I’m curious about the process he uses to achieve what he does.” She turned the tablet back to Lorelei. “This is the only picture he has for his bio.”

They both looked at the candid photo of a tall, well-muscled man wearing khaki cargo pants, a khaki bush shirt, and a plain baseball cap. His features were shadowed, but they could make out a generous amount of scruff on his face and the displeased line of his mouth, not much else.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

M. A. Freeman lives near Wilmington, NC and never makes it to the beach. Any free time is consumed with books, either reading or writing. An avid traveller and self proclaimed geek, trips abroad and to cons such as DragonCon in Atlanta are always on the agenda. Currently working full time in healthcare and attending school to obtain a Master of Library and Information Science degree to compliment the Bachelor’s of Arts in English and Creative Writing.

New Release: Claiming Chloe by Anne Kane #shifters #paranormalromance @AnneKane @changelingpress

Chloe: Young, passionate, and independent, Chloe’s just bought a coffee shop and has plans to make it everyone’s favorite place in town. While away from home learning how to make the best ever pastries for her new venture, she hooks up with a hot stranger for her first sensual experience. She doesn’t expect to ever see him again, certainly not in her new coffee shop.

Damon: He’s ex-military. Tough. Protecting others is his mission in life. He long ago gave up expecting to find a bond-mate. When he agrees to watch over his Navy SEAL buddy’s little sister, he doesn’t expect her to turn his world upside down. He’s too old for such a vibrant young woman, but their mate-bond is hard to ignore, even if he wanted to.

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Anne Kane

Damon slunk toward his prey. Silently. Head down. Eyes locked on the target. There would be no mistakes. This sorry excuse for a human would not live to see one more sunrise. The child cowering in the makeshift cage in the hidden room in the basement of the vile pervert’s home, however, would have a chance to grow up and forget about the nightmare of this night. The police had already been tipped off.

The man’s head jerked up, and he looked around wildly. “Hello? Is someone out there?”

Now was the most difficult part. It was so tempting to play with the target, to watch his fear turn to terror as he realized he’d gone from predator to prey. To play with him, like a cat with a mouse. To make sure he suffered every bit as much as his victims had.

But justice needed to be swift, and impartial.

Emotionless.

That was the hardest part of what he did.

He was close now, almost close enough. He moved forward, covering more ground before bunching his feet beneath him. The prey turned to face him.

He launched himself, surging up and forward at the same time. His teeth found their mark, ripping through the soft skin of neck and severing the carotid artery. Bright crimson blood sprayed from the wound as the man went down, gurgling in horror. He clawed weakly at the gaping laceration in his throat, his life force already deserting him.

Why? The man mouthed the word silently, brows drawn into a confused frown as his body hit the ground. Then his eyes glazed over, and his body went limp.

The wolf shook his head, sitting back on his haunches as he watched the life drain out of this miserable excuse for a human.

Justice had been served. No other child would suffer from this man’s depravity.

Once he was sure the man was dead, Damon turned and loped back toward the stream he’d passed on the way up here. He needed to wash the blood from his fur, to remove all traces of what had transpired here. There was no need to dispose of the body. This far up in the bush, nature’s scavengers would take care of that, and if the remains were ever found there would be no way to trace the killing back to one lone wolf with an overriding sense of justice.

The water was cold. He plunged into its chilly depths, ducking his head repeatedly under the fast-moving water. When it finally ran clear, all traces of blood gone, he swam to the far shore and pulled himself up onto the bank. Shaking the excess water from his fur, he turned toward the trail that led back to where he’d parked his vehicle.

* * *

Chloe held her running shoes in one hand as she slowly turned the door handle, trying to make as little noise as possible. It would not do to wake her roommate at this time of the night. Sometimes being a werewolf sucked, especially if you had to sneak out in the middle of the night to go for a run.

Slipping into the hallway, she carefully closed the dorm room door behind her and headed toward the stairwell. Of course, there was an elevator, but she didn’t want to wake up half this floor with its arthritic squeals and groans. She was fairly sure the thing had been installed sometime before her grandparents met each other.

The stairs made more sense anyway since she planned to exit via the window on the second-floor landing. Being a werewolf had its upsides, one of which was the ability to jump from a second story window without risk of injury. Avoiding anyone who might be lurking in the foyer was a bonus.

The stairwell was deserted, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Chloe sat down on the top step and put her shoes on. It was the middle of the night and even if it weren’t, most people preferred to use the elevator. She descended to the second-floor landing and unlatched the window. She pushed it open and swung herself up and through the opening in one graceful move.

At least, she pictured it as graceful. Her landing on the grass below, not quite so good. Her left foot slipped on a candy bar wrapper someone had carelessly tossed on the ground and she ended up sprawled out with her feet in the air. Definitely not graceful, but at least no one was watching. She’d checked to make sure of that. The surveillance camera on the wall was a fake, put there in a prominent position to scare off petty thieves and overly amorous frat boys.

Getting to her feet, she brushed off her pants and headed out to the edge of town to find a likely hiding place. Shifting would be easy tonight. She’d put it off just a little longer than usual, and she could feel the itch under her skin, the wolf fighting to get out.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

Animal Instinct (box set) by Amanda Steiger #LGBTQ #paranormalromance @changelingpress

Sometimes the shape of desire isn’t human. While shifter desires are dark and intense, humans can be fragile, but adventurous.

Runaway: Werewolf lovers on the run, Keith and Taylor must fight for their lives and their freedom.

Eyes of the Wolf: Kaila would do anything to save her people, even give herself to the barbarian leader of the Wolf Clan…

Wolf’s Promise: Ashrin knows Shana is his mate, and he’ll do whatever it takes to be with the woman he loves.

Half-Blood: A half-human shifter can’t afford to trust anyone. Yet Haden must find a mate or die.

Dante Burning: Love between humans and shifters is complicated… and wild.

Publisher’s Note: Animal Instinct (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Runaway, Eyes of the Wolf, Wolf’s Promise, Half-Blood, and Dante Burning.

Get it at Changeling Press

Praise for Runaway

“This is a very good story to add to anyone’s werewolf collection.”–Lydia, Rainbow Reviews “Ms. Steiger has created a fast paced story that drew me in from the start. Her descriptive writing brings the story to life for the reader. The growing love between Taylor and Keith is very beautiful. Thanks go to Ms. Steiger for a wonderful story.”4 Angels! — Teresa, Fallen Angel Reviews

Praise for Eyes of the Wolf

“…lust and love was just the beginning of what these two strong and incredible leaders will have to face.”–Margo Arthur, The Romance Studio

Praise for Wolf’s Promise

“I enjoyed every page of Wolf’s Promise… an intense and enjoyable voyage into a fantasy world of virgins and demons.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Amanda Steiger has lived in the Midwest her whole life, though she enjoys regular visits to other galaxies and dimensions in her mind. She enjoys cold weather, daydreaming, supernatural romance, and anime. She lives with her family and one very spoiled little dog. You can contact her at sekuiro@gmail.com.

New Release: How Not to Date a Snowman by Stephanie Burke #ParanormalRomance #HolidayRomance @FlashyCat

How Not To Date A Snowman (How Not To 11)

It’s Christmas, and climatologist Lydia Doyle is stuck in the worst place possible — the Florida Everglades — alone in a record breaking heat wave. Her twin sister, who she usually spends the holidays with, has bailed, but not before she sends a special Christmas present — a cute stuffed, snowman plushy.

After rebelling to free his people, Nix, onetime Warrior Prince of the Snowmen tribe, finds himself cursed into a soft, helpless body until someone makes a heartfelt wish. He never expect to be thrust into this new world stuck in his secondary form, with the most beautiful human he’s ever seen.

But a heated argument, an attack goose named Frankie, and an accidental melting changes things for them both, all in one chaotic morning. Now Lydia has to find a way to put her snowman back together again and hope she hasn’t ruined her chance for a very happy holiday.

Available from Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Stephanie Burke

“Grandma got run over by a reindeer!” Lydia Doyle sadly sang along with the radio as she melted into a puddle of overheated climatologist. Here she was, lying in her bed dressed in just an oversized tank top, tossing grapes to her pet goose while she tried to get over that feeling of betrayal her twin sister’s absence caused. “On my way to my house Christmas Eve–” An indignant honk from her pet and best friend at least put smile to her face.

Frankie was an Egyptian goose with distinctive pink legs and feet. He also had beautiful bronze-colored flight feathers that matched the smaller, softer feathers that surrounded his piercing amber eyes. With his unique beauty, there was no way anyone could mistake him for anything but the beautiful territorial bird that he was and not a typical unsophisticated barn goose. Sure, his pink beak, with the hooked, black-tipped end, made him appear dangerous, but he was just a big old sweetheart…that had the ability to geld a man if she asked him nicely.

“Silly goose.” She laughed. “How can I be alone when I have you?”

Even that amusement was short-lived, however, because no matter how she looked at it, Lydia was trapped in Doug.

Doug wasn’t a really bad place… Okay, it was surrounded by ghost towns and had the added tourist attraction of being home to a place where the occasional croc was seen keeping company with alligators while some perverted dolphins watched, but at least it wasn’t some frozen arctic wasteland… though a little arctic air would not be amiss at this moment.

Lydia’s house came with a sweet HVAC unit… and unfortunately it was busted. When she complained about it to her landlord, he supplied a window unit for her to use… but it too was broken. And here she was, stuck in Doug during one of the longest heat waves on record for the Everglades in South Florida.

Doug was an island about ten miles away from Chokoloskee, Florida, with a static population of less than four hundred people, and some of the prettiest gardens she had ever seen. But her company didn’t think getting her accommodations on the pretty main island was close enough to her testing station. So no, she did not have access to their pet friendly restaurants, nail salons, and shopping district where she could waste her hard-earned cash on frivolous items that would remind her of her time in Florida. Alas, no. She was on Doug with a population that was more scarce than teeth in a hen’s mouth, an absolutely stunning colloquialism she had learned since she had been dropped off and abandoned here. She would kill to see four hundred people instead of the roughly two hundred she had to deal with here… on Doug.

Doug had a tight-knit community, one that she really wasn’t a part of. The people there let her know it, ignoring her greetings and giving her the side-eye when she went for a walk with Frankie to alleviate her boredom when her workday was done. She was alone and that made her even sadder because her placement here was indefinite.

“I feel so lonely, I could cry,” she muttered and Frankie honked at her before preening as she tossed him another grape. That last honk was more of an emotive squawk, almost as if Frankie could understand what she was saying and was now intent on reminding her that sometimes two legs were just as good as four, if not better.

She had acquired Frankie when she was doing her stint in studying desert climates in South Africa. He was an injured sterile male who would never have a chance at finding a mate. He had been a parting gift to her by her then lover…. The asshole who shall remain nameless… right before he skipped off to marry a woman his family arranged as a wife. It would have been nice if the bastard had told her he was only in it for fun and games before she managed to catch feelings for that son of a bitch.

Well, the sex had been good. Damn, she missed the sex. She was running out of batteries for her BOB, battery operated boyfriend, and the Bessie Sisters who ran the general store were beginning to give her odd looks for the sheer quantity she went through in a week. Maybe she could buy them in bulk from Amazon?

And speaking of mail order deliveries, Lydia again looked at the package that had been waiting for her today after she was done tromping through the razor grass and horny lizards — who knew that a crocodile and an alligator could have a sexual relationship? — that filled the areas surrounding Doug where she had to take water temperatures and plant life samples.

Her twin sister, Lana Doyle, a research biologist stationed in the friggin’ South Pole, was supposed to come and visit, but there was some issue or something with some gay penguins actually finding an abandoned egg to adopt that left her screaming in delight and unable to leave her guys until she knew if the egg was viable. Lana’s explanation for the last-minute cancellation came with a barrage of photos and apologies that forced Lydia put on a happy face and forgive her sister for leaving her alone in fucking Doug.

“As if penguins are better than geese.” She snorted, shaking her head at her sister’s stupid obsession. “She even let one of those fish munchers live with her, setting up a habitat for it in her yurt and everything. Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in that girl’s head.”

Frankie honked in agreement and she tossed him another grape.

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.

Find her online: Website | Facebook

New Release: Blood (Salvation’s Bane MC) by Marteeka Karland #ContemporaryRomance @marteekakarland

Blood (Salvation's Bane MC 5)

Alizay — My life is complicated enough without the big biker mercenary I’m tasked with helping to rehabilitate. He’s not a fan of physical therapy and I’m not a fan of the way I react to his body. Nothing in my life could have prepared me for the man called Blood. He’s crass, stubborn, and so sexy it actually hurts. If I’m going to resist him I’ve got to be strong. I’m just not sure any woman is strong enough to ignore him when he decides he doesn’t want to be ignored.

Blood — I’m the one who cleans up the messes made by others. Then she comes along and suddenly I’m the mess. She thinks she’s leaving when she’s done with me, but I’ve got other plans for little Alizay. She’s going to be mine whether she wants to or not. Her past may stand in our way, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up.

With Christmas on the way and me dragging out my recovery in order to get some quality time with my sexy therapist, my club and my team decide to bring Christmas to me. Bones, Salvation’s Bane, and the Shadow Demons. All under one roof. What could possibly go wrong?

WARNING: Explicit violence which could be a trigger for some readers. Explicit sex that might offend some readers. As always, you can expect a HEA with no cheating.

Now Available at Changeling Press

or preorder for December 18th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland

“Fucking hell! Is everyone here? Blood needs immediate medical attention!” That was Shadow. The big African-American was trying to pry off Blood’s body armor. What had been once been as flexible as a T-shirt was now stiff as fucking steel. Shadow swore as he pulled and tried to force the material away from Blood, but it wouldn’t budge. “Someone tell me how to get this fuckin’ shit off him! I need to see how bad he’s hurt!”

Blood could have told him it was pretty fucking bad. But the more Shadow and Sword tried to work with the armor, the worse it hurt. It wasn’t long before the edges of Blood’s vision blurred. The pain was so bad now he couldn’t scream even if he’d wanted to. Every movement of his leg took any breath he might have used, so he didn’t have breath to spare to scream.

He closed his eyes, trying to find the calm that was so easy for him to hold on to in battle. It was there, but the pain was unrelenting. There seemed to be no ease on it. It was like that fucking body armor was holding his leg in an unnatural position, creating the unbearable, stabbing pain in his hip and thigh.

Blood heard his brothers readying for battle. Blindly, he reached for his sidearm, trying to chamber a round. Someone grabbed the weapon from his hands, not bothering to explain.

The next thing he saw was the most angelic, beautiful face he’d ever had the pleasure of viewing. As before, when he’d first noticed the threat looming over him, the sun shone on the woman leaning over him. Her golden hair gleamed as she moved, looking much like a halo around her head. Impossibly pale skin was stained with pink on her cheeks. Her hand brushed over his face, pulling off his helmet. Everywhere her skin touched his was like silk over his rough skin.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” she said, her voice melodious and strong. Blood reached for her wrist weakly when she pulled away. His big hand circled her delicate arm with room to spare. Was she a child? She reached for his chest and did something with her free hand. Immediately, the armor relaxed around him and his leg moved back to a more relaxed position. The pain was still there, but not the sharp, constant agony from before. She immediately stuffed what he thought was a trauma dressing over the leg she’d just bared, pressing down hard. Pain exploded down the limb as she did.

“What did you do?” He managed to bite out, his voice barely above a whisper and so hoarse he hardly recognized himself.

“Sometimes, the material gets stuck,” she explained, sounding like she was oversimplifying the process but repeating it as it had been told to her. “You have to release it. So I did.”

Blood wanted to ask her how, but now that the pain had ebbed somewhat, he was crashing. Hard. Try as he might, he couldn’t focus on the woman. All he managed to croak out was, “What’s your name?”

When she smiled, it was like the heavens had opened up and welcomed him with arms wide. “Alizay,” she said. Blood let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

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.

New Release: Waiting on a Friend by Megan Slayer #holidayromance #GayRomance @meganslayer

Waiting On A Friend (A Start Me Up Christmas Story) (Set In Stone Multi-Author 12)

King Mason doesn’t want to spend another year alone. He loves his job at the men’s shelter, but there has to be more from life than work. He’s seen the pretty blond man around the community and can’t wait to make a move at the Christmas street party.

Randall Stevens has big plans for Christmas 1980, and all of them involve meeting King Mason. He’s fallen hard for the man, and his wish is to take things to the next level. Christmas Eve just might be the night — except some wishes are meant to go sideways. Can Start Me Up help provide the solution he and King need?

Get it Today at Changeling Press

or Preorder for December 4th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Megan Slayer

King Mason tipped his face to the sky and breathed in the night air. For a December evening, the weather in Ohio was unseasonably warm. Probably good since the Christmas street party was scheduled for tonight. He wasn’t in the mood for dancing or drinking, but he wanted to be around people. For the last year, he’d drowned his sorrows in his work at the men’s shelter. He needed to forget his boyfriend, Chuck. Now ex-boyfriend. Chuck wanted to move on. He didn’t want a daddy. He wanted a pretty boy.

King gritted his teeth. Even thinking about Chuck’s term for him annoyed him. A daddy. So he was hairy. So he liked to take care of his partner. Was that bad? At least he could’ve been called a bear or something. He wasn’t super hairy, but more than a lot of guys. He’d never be pretty. It just wasn’t in his genetic makeup. He had scars from his antics as a child and would never not have five o’clock shadow. He looked rough.

He sighed and headed out to the street party. Guys he’d seen from the community, plus a whole lot more, had poured out to the streets. Guys of every shape, size, and so much red and green. Some guys had arrived in drag, sporting sumptuous glittery ball gowns and others with hair a good foot tall. He admired the drag queens. They had so much charisma and ferocity.

Christmas music played and lights glittered from every post. Whoever had done the decorating really liked the twinkle lights. Strands of tinsel blew in the slight breeze. The only way there could be more glitter would be to have someone tossing it from up above.

A guy sashayed passed King and flapped a length of garland at him. He’d decorated his blond wig with rhinestones and wore thick makeup, giving him the look of a tall version of the blond bombshell, Mae West — except with a moustache. “Come up and see me sometime,” the guy said and grinned. “When I’m bad, I’m better.”

King nodded. “Next time.” Everyone loved those old Mae West lines. He wandered through the men to the knot of his friends. Seeing the guys he knew and the ones who respected him helped. They wouldn’t ask about Chuck, and they wouldn’t bother him to hook up with someone else.

That didn’t mean he didn’t have a wish for Christmas. He tipped his face to the stars and murmured his desire. “Santa, I want a man for Christmas. A sweet one, who understands I want love and is willing to be a partner. Someone who will accept my idiosyncrasies and won’t run because I’m getting older.” He doubted there was enough magic in the cosmos to grant that wish, but it didn’t hurt to try. He wished the handsome man he’d seen wandering the community would be there. Every time he looked at the pretty blond man, sparks shot through his system. He’d like to hang some tinsel on him and kiss him under the mistletoe.

King snorted. He never considered himself a romantic, but he’d like to try a little romance with the blond — if he showed up.

“Gonna wrap someone in tinsel and kiss them under the mistletoe?” Todd asked. He’d made overtures toward King lots of times, but wasn’t quite what King wanted. “You keep telling me I’ll get a turn, but you’re always off with someone. You want to tease me, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” King shrugged. “I’ve been single for almost a year.”

“Then take me home. We can play a game and hide presents from each other.” Todd trailed his fingers down King’s chest. “Or fuck. Who needs presents when you can fuck?”

“I’ll take it under consideration.” King smiled to hide his true feelings. He hated having to be on, but he wanted men to feel comfortable coming to the shelter, and Todd frequented the shelter — usually trolling for dates.

King prided himself in perpetuating a pleasant atmosphere at the shelter. The guys who showed up tended to be scared and at their wits’ end. Many had been disowned by family and were living on the fringes. They needed somewhere safe to exist and sort themselves out. Some needed to dry out, others needed to clean up… King wanted to be sure the guys were safe and had a friendly face at the desk.

Being a friendly face didn’t soothe his loneliness, especially at Christmas.

Kaz, a man King knew from the baths, crooked his brow. “Want to hook up in the changing rooms? Share a little Christmas cheer? I’ve got poppers.”

“Not tonight.” King wasn’t one for drinking, and he’d taken drugs exactly once — not his thing. The headache from the hangover was a drag, and the lone time he’d gotten high freaked him out too much. He hated losing control, and Kaz tended to fly a little too close to the edge for King. “Have a merry Christmas,” King said. “Happy New Year if I don’t see you before then.”

“You know I will — on both accounts.” Kaz shrugged. “If you’re interested, I’ll be at the baths until two.”

He didn’t doubt it. Kaz spent all his time looking for someone to fuck. King wasn’t one for casual. He wanted a steady guy. Someone to come home to, fuck, and love. Someone to hold when they slept. That’s what he wanted. Was that guy out there?

He hadn’t found the opportunity to talk to him. What if he could be King’s forever?

Darryl, the new owner of Start Me Up, strode up to King. “I hear you could use this.” He handed King a card. “I don’t know what for, and I don’t want to know. Take it.” He mashed the card into King’s hand. “Trust me.”

ABOUT MEGAN SLAYER

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 her online: Author Website | Facebook

All Wrapped Up by Willa Okati, Lacey Savage, and Emma Ray Garrett #BDSM #romancebooks @willaokati @laceysavage @Emma_Ray_G

Alien Space Marines, a celebrity photographer, and a pair of vampires find their perfect mates on the dark side of the night.

Chain of Three by Willa Okati: Mix two alien Marines, a human BDSM Master, and a shapeshifting Empress with a mind of her own, and what do you get? A whole lot of trouble. It’s a three-way battle for dominance, and the Empress knows something she’s not telling…

Naked Exposure by Lacey Savage: When savvy celebrity photographer Deidre Laxon trespasses on private property in pursuit of hot Hollywood bachelor Greg Radigan, she has no idea she’s about to capture him in all his naked glory participating in some very explicit BDSM play. When Greg and Deidre finally come face-to-face, he’s ready to exact revenge. And nothing short of Deidre’s complete submission will satisfy him…

Torqued by Emma Ray Garrett: Being a dominatrix gives Reliant Agent Pru Gordon perfect access to the Nightside she polices. And it lets her fulfill her fantasies at the same time. It’s the perfect life. Until the night she meets Gage Mills and Ro Thomas. When two of the darkest predators around meet up with the best Controller alive, things are bound to get messy… Just what the Domme ordered.

Publisher’s Note: Please note that not all genres and themes apply to the entire collection.

Get it today at Changeling Press

or Preorder for November 27th at online booksellers

Praise for All Wrapped Up Vol. 2

“This is the perfect book to have on hand when there’s only a short period of time to fill. Each story is a very satisfyingly quick read. I highly recommend this entertaining trio of tales.”— Susan P., The Romance Studio

EXCERPT

Excerpt from Chain of Three Willa Okati
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Willa Okati

“So, you’re pretending to be a human again today, are you?”

Dane grunted in response. In his opinion, a stupid question didn’t deserve any kind of answer. Anyone with two, three, four or more eyes in their head or what they called a head ought to know better. Of course he’d shifted into human shape. He wasn’t stupid.

The Empress hadn’t exactly ordered Her subjects to assume the images of the humans She adored and fell passionately in love with. However, anyone who wasn’t too dumb to come in out of the rain knew they’d better wear the right “uniform” unless they had an itch to annoy Her.

You really, really didn’t want to annoy the Supreme Commander of a thousand-plus starships and a million trained warriors.

Besides, he’d decided to lounge by the pond in the garden of his new quarters that morning and tentacles had a nasty tendency to develop vicious sunburn. “Getting a tan” the earthfolk they’d rescued from their doomed planet called this practice. They’d said it was relaxing and made them look more attractive to those they wanted to mate with.

No, those they wanted to fuck.

If Dane was going to play human, then he’d damn well get the details right. Mating and fucking were completely different concepts. One of the new traditions most of his countrymen and women liked best when it came to playing human was the idea of fucking without having to tangle themselves up in mating.

“Fuck.” An interesting word you could use in almost any sentence.

Dane paused for a second to appreciate the amazing range of human obscenities, otherwise called “swearing,” “cursing,” or “cussin’.” They worked great when a guy didn’t really know what else to say.

Speaking of which, Dane decided getting a suntan was probably a piss-poor waste of time. He couldn’t figure out why anyone would enjoy damaging the pigmentation of their skin by sitting in the sun all day, but as the earthfolk also said, what the hell? He didn’t have anything better to do. Not since he’d been “honorably” discharged from the military, sent back to their home planet for recuperation, and then…

Dane shuddered.

“Aww. He shivered. Izza baby boy cold?” Julian taunted in American English.

Raising the middle finger of his human-shaped hand, Dane pointed it where he figured Julian would be standing. Another handy earthfolk trick, cussing with hand signals.

Julian hooted. “Up yours too!” He made the suggestion in cheerful good humor. Probably purely for the sake of annoying Dane. He never took offense at anything Dane did. He treated every barb and sting like some big game. Prick. “You’re cranky today, old man. What flew up your ass?”

Dane grunted again as his only answer, deciding if that wasn’t good enough for Julian he could go screw himself.

Mmm. He really, really loved human profanity. So rich, depending on culture, and so satisfying. He and Julian both studied the underground lists of new phrases together to figure out what they meant, bitching at each other over who got to read first if they didn’t both have a copy. The time when Julian insisted “son of a bitch” meant the same thing as “son of a motherless goat” had resulted in a fight of amazing violence and duration.

In the end, the Empress Herself gave them a tongue-lashing of Her own and sent them to their rooms to stand with their noses in the corner until they learned to behave like men, not children.

Julian’s fault, in Dane’s opinion. Dumbass.

ABOUT WILLA OKATI

Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants, genderfluidity, and a lifelong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Favorite story types include: friends to lovers, reunited lovers, enemies to lovers, mpreg, polyamory, medical romances, Regency/Edwardian/WWII historical romances, and romantic comedies.

ABOUT LACEY SAVAGE

Award-winning author Lacey Savage loves to write about her dreams — or more specifically, she loves to breathe life into her steamy fantasies (and she’s got plenty!). She pens erotic tales of true love and mythical destiny, peopled with strong alpha heroes and feisty heroines. A hopeless romantic, Lacey loves writing about the intimate, sensual side of relationships. She currently resides in Ottawa, Canada, with her mischievous husband and their loving cat.

ABOUT EMMA RAY GARRETT

“…and I — I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

-The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

The last line from award-winning author Emma Ray’s favorite poem pretty much sums up her life. Her tendency to do her own thing is what her friends and family love best, and least, about her. Chaos is a constant in the Garrett home, which currently houses her intelligent, energetic children, a devoted husband, a very large, very lazy, white tom-cat, a very crazy, very small black cat, and a very happy, very healthy rescue pooch — who’s black and white.

New Release: Serenaded by the Alien Vampire Rock Star by Crymsyn Hart #AlienEncounters #SciFiRomance @crymsynhart

After Irene Beckham accidentally discovers rock star Ace Hendrix’s big secret, she wakes up in his bedroom without any memory of how she got there. As flashes of her memory of the night before return, Ace makes her an offer. Let him suck her blood, and he’ll make her a wealthy woman if she can stay quiet about it. Ace even proves to her he didn’t take advantage of her the night before.

When the press gets wind of Ace’s new fling, Irene decides she’s not the right woman for him, but Ace knows they’re meant to be together. He doesn’t care what the paparazzi says, he has to have her in his life no matter the cost.

Get it today at Changeling Press

Or Preoder for November 27th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Crymsyn Hart

Irene opened her eyes and rolled her neck. A stab of pain struck her throat. She sat up and pushed her hair back. Her fingers hit her glasses. She pulled them off and found they had been fixed. “What the hell?”

Glancing around, she discovered she’d woken up in a room not her own. Dark blue walls were hung with pictures of the ocean and cliffside vistas. One was so huge it made it seem like she looked out a window. And yet she couldn’t find any windows. A bed large enough to sleep four people took up most of the room. What the fuck happened? She took off her glasses and inspected them to make sure they were hers. She ran her hands over the wall, looking for any crack that could be a door. After going over the whole room, she knocked on the walls to hear if any were hollow. With nothing but hurting knuckles, she slammed her fist on a bare spot on the wall.

“Let me out of here,” she screamed.

“Enough with the yelling. I have a headache as it is,” a male voice came over a speaker.

“Who are you and what are you going to do with me?” Irene scanned the room looking for a speaker.

Something clicked and a portion of the wall popped out. Someone hovered in the hallway. “Come on. We have a few things to discuss before you can go.” She recognized Ace’s voice.

Irene followed the rocker. Posters of old concerts from Buddy Holly, Jimmy Hendrix, The Doors, Madonna, all from different eras of music and mixed with framed golden records lined the hallway. As she ran after him, all she could stare at was his ass in those leather pants. “Mr. Hendrix, how did I end up here?”

He turned down the hall and Irene rushed to catch up with him. He turned another corner. She found him as he grabbed a bottle of water from a fridge that blended in with the cabinets around it. He flung himself down onto a sofa and gestured for her to take a seat across from him.

Irene sank down into the couch. Records, CDs, cassette tapes, anything music-related lined the bookshelves around the room. “You have quite a music collection.”

His gaze roamed around the room and a slight smile came on his face. “Thanks. I’ve been collecting for a long time. Music’s always been my escape. Would you like some water?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

He tossed the bottle of water at her. It hit the back of the couch next to her and bounced onto the seat. “Sorry. Like I said I’m getting over the hangover from last night.”

“About last night. How did I get here? Back at your house? Where’s my friend?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

She squeezed the bridge of her nose, trying to recall what happened. Her head pounded as she tried to draw forth the memories after she waited in line with Bev for Ace. “My glasses got knocked off and trampled. You picked them up and your assistant gave me and Bev backstage passes.” A spear of pain sliced her temple. She tried to pull up more. It remained out of her reach. “I don’t know.” She ran her fingers over her jeans as a thought passed through her head. “We didn’t… ahh…”

“Fuck?” he asked.

Her cheeks burned at his language. “Yeah.”

“No, we didn’t. After you wandered into my dressing room, you fainted. Nicole, my assistant, brought in my doctor. He said you’d passed out from having too much to drink. I thought it best to have you brought back here to sleep it off where no one’d bother you. We put you in the guestroom to sleep it off. I can have my car take you wherever you need to go.”

Irene sipped the water and thought back to being with Bev before the show. “I didn’t have anything to drink.”

“You sure? Maybe your friend slipped you something. It’d account for you thinking your glasses were broken.”

“They were. You picked them up for me.”

“You stumbled and dropped them right in front of me, but they weren’t broken.”

Nothing of what he said made any sense to her. Irene tried to rack her mind at what happened the night before. The ache hit her temple again. She winced. “No… I…”

“Look, you’re awake. You seem fine to me. Now, I have a life to get back to. It was very nice to meet you. I’ll have my driver take you home. Come on.”

Ace got up and walked out of the room. Irene sat trying to make sense of what he’d said. This doesn’t sound right. If I passed out, then Bev would’ve wormed her way into coming with me, playing at being nursemaid. She squeezed her eyes shut and recalled clearly her glasses had been broken. They went backstage with Nicole, and then she had tried to find the restroom. And then… she walked into Ace’s dressing room, but he was…

“What the hell was he doing?” Irene whispered.

ABOUT CRYMSYN HART

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