New Today at Changeling Press! #RomanceBooks #NewRelease

Snake Charmer (Confessions 1)

Skye: I’m a lone wolf, but I’ve left the forest to fight against demons who’ve taken over the world. Right now I’m with a pack in Baltimore, but their alpha respects my ways. I take assignments from him, but I live alone and fight alone — until the night I’m attacked by a swarm of bat demons and a hot little snake dancer jumps in to back me up. For me, it’s lust at first sight, but it’s more than that. I think this adorable little tough guy is my mate, even though he’s not a wolf.

Erik: I’m called Snake Charmer. Dancer. Contortionist. Spirit twin to an alien serpent who has always been my protector. My life has been a series of horrors with some beautiful experiences tossed in. I’ve learned to be independent, especially after my best friend and I were brutalized in an attack that left her dead. Now I’m out for revenge, and it’s brought me to Maryland, directly into the path of a gorgeous werewolf who makes me feel things I never dreamed of. It can’t last, though, and nothing, not even desire this deep, will come between me and my vendetta.

Warning: While set in a futuristic paranormal reality, Snake Charmer includes references to previous child abuse, rape, and murder that may be triggers to some readers.

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

#ParanormalRomance #Gay #Vampires #Werewolves #AlienEncounters

button_get-the-book

 

WebDivider

 

Combustible (Roanoke River Omegas 3)Long, lean, wild and unconventional for an Omega, Zane rocks and rolls Alpha Grant’s world. Zane can’t be predicted. He can’t be contained. And Grant freaking loves it.

But it’s not all beer and BJs, even for these two. Grant’s never wanted to have kids of his own. His family is Legacy Tattoo, the business he finally reclaimed after his grandfather’s death. He’s dedicating his life to making it not just flourish but thrive. And he doesn’t know — yet — about Zane’s status as a single father to a rambunctious pre-K rebel.

Their love affair is gonna be complicated. And — downright combustible.

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

#LGBTQ+ #Mpreg #ParanormalRomance

button_get-the-book

 

WebDivider

 

Feral Heat (Feral 6)

Think werewolves aren’t real?

Tell that to the four women and one man who find themselves captive to the whims of the Zante pack’s males. Fierce, mythical, and sexy-as-sin, these delightfully debauched wolves guide their lovers through a journey of seductive exploration. Whether newly discovered or rekindled, their relationships are as passionate as they are.

And the women can give as good as they take. From a fairy bent on revenge to a vixen determined to destroy the pack, they’ll all discover that getting caught is its own reward.

Wild and dangerous, menacing and exciting, otherworldly and naughty to the last…

The men of the Zante pack will make a believer out of you.

Publisher’s Note: This box set contains the previously released novellas Firecrackers: Chemistry to BurnFeral MagnetismFeral BachelorismFeral Hedonism, and Feral Voyeurism. 

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

#LGBTQ+ #werewolves #multiplepartners

button_get-the-book

 

 

Wolfsblood by Marteeka Karland #paranormalromance @MarteekaKarland

Wolfsblood (Wolfsblood 5)

Cover Art by Marteeka Karland

 

In Earth’s brutal future, humans are no longer at the top of food chain. Paranormals roam the frozen wastes, predators as protective as they are dangerous — especially when it comes to their chosen mates.

Snow Wolf: Xander needs no one, but the woman calls to the Vampire within, daring him to take her. Instinct wouldn’t allow him not to hunt her, especially with another male sniffing around what is his by right.

Fire Wolf: Logan knows the second he scents the little fire wolf she’s his mate. Convincing a Wolfsblood to mate with a Lionsblood, though, will be a tall order. Fortunately, he’s up to the task.

Shadow Wolf: Leiah has no clue what she’s in for when Shadow Wolf Rikker claims her and threatens to take her from the only family she’s ever known. Can two Shadow Wolves find a balance before Leiah’s pack is torn apart?

Savage Wolf: Bred for battle, Lyndal’s nature demands conflict. Felice’s Vampire nature demands blood. She doesn’t count on Lyndal weaving a sensual web around her…

Possession: Harael. Relaren. Valael. They’re predators. Killers. So how is it the three biggest, baddest Vampsblood out there have been undone by a mere slip of a girl — a human at that? They never saw this one coming. No one — not human, not Vampsblood — is going to come between Josette and her mates.

 

Available today at Changeling Press
preorder for May 15th at retailers
also in paperback at Amazon

 

Wolfsblood_Twitter

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland
Excerpt from Snow Wolf

Xander’s anger was as cold as the frozen rain stinging every bit of his exposed flesh. He watched his prey with fury. How dare she? The Snow Wolf embraced a male of her kind before slipping into the small opening in the rock beneath the natural overhang.

As soon as he’d realized this was where she lived, Xander had scouted out the caverns until he knew them like the back of his hand. He’d only seen the woman from a distance, but her obvious familiarity with the other man put Xander in a killing rage. The unnatural attraction he had for a woman he’d never even met didn’t bother him in the least. It was what it was. Xander intended to take the woman for his own before the night was upon them, and that was all that mattered.

Soundlessly, he followed the couple into the cave beyond the rock wall. Only the slight sound of their distant voices deeper underground drifted to him, but it was enough. Xander followed, waiting for the moment the male turned away from her. He would not kill the man. Yet. If he proved to be too much of a nuisance later, though, Xander would eliminate the threat.

Knowing the caverns in this area well, Xander recognized the direction his woman and her companion headed, and he veered off. The farther away from them he was, the less likely they’d know he followed. Crawling through smaller crevices, he made his way to the community buried deeply in this particular branch off the Mammoths. It was getting late, and Xander knew the woman would make her way to her residence soon. He intended to be there waiting on her. It was time he claimed what was his.

Never had a woman intrigued him like she did. The pull toward her was unbreakable, and Xander wasn’t a man who fought his inner cravings. Being half Lionsblood, he recognized the call of a mate. Being half Vampire, he knew he could choose to ignore it, but he didn’t really want to. He wanted to explore her before he dismissed her. If he had her a time — or fifty — he could think again. All he had to do was work her out of his system, and he could move on with his life. Xander wasn’t made to be tied to someone. He was more animal than man.

It took only a few minutes to reach her den and enter through a crevice in an out-of-the-way corner she’d covered with a heavy boulder, presumably to keep out the draft as well as unwanted guests. Xander’s strength, however, was enormous. Not only did he have the enhanced strength of the Lionsblood, but he was gifted with many abilities of the Vampire as well. More so than even his brother, Shiffley. Shiffley had always helped humans, even before he met the female he’d mated with. Now, he was positively smitten. Xander refused to be like that. He was a loner, pure and simple.

Once inside, he surveyed her room with a critical eye. There were several small feminine articles — pastel bed coverings, scented candles, a colorful vase, and a small bar of scented soap — but nothing masculine. Good. She didn’t share her living space with the man. That would have been unfortunate.

For the man.

Situating himself in one of the darkened corners, Xander settled in to wait. Which he did. For over two hours. To say Xander was in a foul mood by the time the door to her den opened was a severe understatement. To put it mildly, he was seething. He waited until she was in the room and the door firmly shut behind her before making her aware of his presence.

“Where the hell have you been?” He growled, the question so full of menace Xander half expected her to run screaming from the room. Lesser men and women had in the past.

Not his woman. She merely looked around until she spotted him where he leaned against the wall.

Xander straightened then and stalked toward her. He didn’t move quickly, but took his time, approached her warily. No doubt she’d bolt at any second.

“I wondered when you’d finally get around to joining me.” Her tone was mild, not in the least distressed. If he hadn’t known better, he might have suspected she knew he’d been following her. “Have a seat. I’ll make us some tea.” She gestured toward the small couch, the only piece of furniture in the room other than her bed. Lighting a small lamp set in a natural alcove in the rock, she set about her task, not once looking back at him.

Of all the things Xander had expected, this wasn’t one of the options. The Snow Wolf acted as if this were an everyday occurrence to her. He wondered exactly how many men she’d entertained here.

Immediately, he tried to tamp down on the inquiry because it sent his temper spiraling out of control.

The Snow Wolf turned to him as if sensing his rage, her face serene. She might have been in the room with a close friend for all the fear she showed. She didn’t seem to consider herself in any danger at all. “Drink this.” She handed him a cup of dark, steaming liquid. “It will help ease your discomfort.”

On some level, Xander knew he should say something. He knew what he was feeling was so far out of the norm for him as to be on a completely different plane of existence.

Anger was nothing new to him. Everyone got angry. But the intense, rolling jealousy was something else altogether. He knew it, but seemed helpless to stop it. What the hell was happening to him?

 

About Marteeka Karland

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.

Marteeka at Changeling Press |Website

 

The Hunter’s Bride by Alexa Piper #paranormalromance #vampires @prowlingpiper

The Hunter's Bride (Dusk & Dawn 1)

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

 

Maxim, tall, whimsical, and a vampire, wants to hire a curator for his art collection. Robyn, a newly minted art historian looking for a job, loves fine art and old stuff, and Maxim soon realizes she is not just perfect for the job, but also for him.

Robyn never liked prejudices against vampires, werewolves, or Fae, but the moment she starts working for a vampire, things appear less black and white, especially when she begins to fall for her new boss.

Robyn and Maxim’s young love will have to overcome odds and odd vampires who take issue with the fact that Maxim happens to be a vampire hunter who doesn’t shy away from decapitating his own kind.

 

Get it today at Changeling Press
or preorder for May 15th at retailers

 

HuntersBride_FB

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Alexa Piper

Brian seemed to be slipping. He’d called up to tell Maxim of the interviewee’s arrival only about twenty seconds before the elevator had dinged, which barely gave Maxim the time to refresh his memory in regard to her name.

Heath had left a file on his desk titled Interviews, and Maxim had complained at the sheer lack of imagination that was obvious in that title. Heath had used magic marker to write it, though, and Maxim had wondered, out loud, if Heath had missed the developmental stage crayons were clearly meant for. Upon which Heath had broken into verbiage that came odorously dripping from the verbiage gutter. Heath had informed him that he, Maxim, best not pull any of this bodily refuse with the artsy people. They were, after all, artsy people and not likely to enjoy such shenanigans, at least if Heath’s soliloquy was to be believed. It was a shame the creativity he had displayed in his colorful speech had not translated into the simplistic title of the file that had sparked it.

“Robyn with a y,” Maxim mumbled to himself as he walked toward the elevators. “Y, y, y… Why would whiskey-vending witches want vigor with their witchy wits?” He pushed a strand of his hair back behind his shoulder and put on a smile. He could smell the interviewee even before he saw her, some perfume he didn’t know, light and floral, forgettable as Valentine’s Days spent alone. The scent underneath that was sunshine-warmed skin, a slight note of crushed cardamom pods. A shame to hide that with such perfume.

When Maxim laid eyes on the interviewee, he could feel his pupils spill black, and he immediately understood why Brian had taken so long to pick up the phone. Robyn with a y Somerton was gorgeous, though very much on the skinny side, always something that made Maxim’s memories of hunger float back to the surface of his mind, no matter how long ago that had been. Her hair was dark and wonderful, lush ebony, and her gray eyes and pale skin made her deep purple dress look even better on her. But damn it, he had promised Heath.

“Miss Somerton, thanks for coming in for the interview. My name is Maxim Vallois. I believe you talked to my assistant over the phone?” Now, there’s some perfect manners for you right there, Heath. If only that dhampire brat were here to see it.

The shock on her face at seeing Maxim and realizing what he was would have been amusing, should have been amusing, but for the first time in decades, Maxim felt futile fury at the reaction rise inside of him. She did go a shade paler, though, which was pretty.

“Y-yes. About the curator position?” she said, catching herself rather quickly and reining her expression back into normal. Maxim liked her voice. It was calm, not shrill. Heath sometimes brought home shrill, and that was usually headache inducing, rhetorically speaking. Maxim did not actually get headaches.

“Certainly. Please, come in.” Part of him wondered whether she would run. She was wearing terrible heels for that, and because he cared and paid attention, Maxim was pretty sure she was already headed for at least one blister on her left heel. Maxim had never understood heels, nor foot binding. He had understood what it said about having power over women, but he’d loathed that, loathed that society made it necessary for women to give that power.

Not the time to wax philosophical, Maxim reminded himself. Heath, if he were here and not away doing something that had to do with banks and money, would have been seething in the acid of his own glaring stares already. Stares glare glistening staffs of seeping solace. Not my best one, Maxim thought.

Robyn with a y came forward. Clearly she had decided running would be stupid. Mmh, Heath. Did you get me a final girl? Maxim filed that as a nice line for later. When he would tell Heath he wanted Robyn with a y. He wasn’t even sure why. It sure as bodily refuse wasn’t the cheap perfume, and it wasn’t the mildly scrawny look that Maxim found mildly headache inducing. Perhaps it was that stare of not quite fear but close enough to fear. Or lust at first sight? Who knows. Whatever the why, Maxim wanted her.

Of course Maxim couldn’t just spring this on Y Robyn. It would sound as if he were planning to make her a plaything, something Maxim knew good and well vampires did. He could go off on a whole other tangent about that nasty habit. He had to at least give Y Robyn the impression she had won the job, and of course he needed to be able to tell Heath as well, so he led her to the cluttered table he had lovingly prepared for the magic marker interview.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Y Robyn said when he shook her hand. “You know how fickle the subway can be.”

“I don’t, actually. But it’s no trouble. This way.” He made a mental note of checking out the subway. It might be fun, ethnologically speaking.

When Y Robyn saw his table, she summed it up wonderfully concisely. “Wow,” she said, and Maxim glanced at her saucer wide eyes and at the appealing slackness of her drooping jaw.

 

About Alexa Piper

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Her retelling of Dracula, A Tale of Honey and Garnet Wine, might be a cursed manuscript, and every writer should have at least one of those. She also loves writing series, and her Fairview Chronicles follow a ragtag gang of supernaturals who try to make their city safer. Mostly. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Alexa at Changeling Press | Website| Facebook

 

The Beta’s Spitfire by Gale Stanley #paranormalromance @GaleStanley

The Beta's Spitfire (Utopia 2)

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

 

Samson: Levi and I have always been best friends. Now he’s the pack Alpha and I’m his beta, a.k.a. the man who cleans up after his shit storms. This one is a doozy. He dumped his intended bride, and now it’s my job to take care of her while he goes off to find his soulmate. Delilah is beautiful, a real spitfire, and completely off limits. But she ignites a fire that makes my wolf sit up and howl.

Delilah: I was meant to be the mate of an Alpha, so l accepted an arranged marriage with Levi. But the arrogant jerk dumped me right before the wedding. I’m no damsel in distress, so I took off for New York to live a life of independence. Along the way, I was kidnapped and my situation became desperate. When Samson came to my rescue, I never expected him to claim me for himself.

 

Available today at Changeling Press
or preorder at retailers for May 15th

 

BetasSpitfire_Twitter

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Gale Stanley

Samson

I’ve always been an early riser. Good thing too, because Levi left me a ton of work. I showered and dressed, then headed for Levi’s house.

The front door opened to the living room, which had been converted to Levi’s office. Despite the many shelves and file cabinets lining the white walls, the room remained in a perpetual state of clutter and disorganization. Sighing at the mess, I headed to his kitchen to make myself coffee. I took a few sips, and then carried my mug back to the office and placed it next to the desktop computer.

The computer was grimy and old, like everything else in Levi’s office. I logged on and waited for it to power up. It took forever. I’d replaced the power supply, added RAM, and updated the operating system, but it was already obsolete. I had begged Levi to let me renovate the office, but we always had the argument. “The pack doesn’t have money for nonessentials.”

“Bullshit.” I knew Levi wasn’t tech savvy and he felt intimidated by computers. “Keeping up with technology is essential.”

“My old man never used one when he was Alpha, and he did okay.”

“Things are different today.”

“Not for me, Samson. I’m a hands-on guy. I don’t need a tricked up office and flashy equipment. When my father was Alpha he solved problems by using his head and real physical work, not these so-called laborsaving devices. All they do is keep an Alpha from interacting with his pack.”

I gave up trying. “Okay, man. Whatever you say.”

Even if Levi thought I was right, he would never admit it. Levi was my best friend, but he had a big ego and didn’t take advice well, especially from his second in command. I was good enough for the grunt work and maintaining law and order, but when it came to running the pack, my opinions didn’t count.

The rest of Levi’s house wasn’t much better than the office. To say it needed work was an understatement. The old clapboard two-story house sat next door to his parents’ home and had been furnished with their castoffs, right down to the floral print couch. There were two bedrooms and a bath on the second floor.

I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t fixed the place up for his intended bride, but then Levi had never showed much interest in Delilah. The day she arrived he took off for some appointment and he’d been doing it ever since, leaving me to fill in as escort and bodyguard for the stunning redhead.

Delilah was a real looker. Smart as a whip, too. She-wolves are supposed to do as they’re told, but Delilah had a mind of her own. Levi complained plenty about her independent streak. His Alpha ego demanded a more compliant mate. Not me. I want a strong woman I can talk to, an equal, a partner. But I wasn’t likely to find one in our pack. We outnumber the women two to one.

Tradition holds that a wolf will know his true mate, but with so few women to pick from, a guy can’t rely on destiny. That’s why Levi’s father ignored the old ways and went outside the pack to find him a suitable mate. If I didn’t choose a woman soon and start breeding, Levi might do the same for me.

Reproduction was a top priority for us. So was keeping the bloodline pure. I understood the reasons, but letting an Alpha pick my wife, even if he was my best friend, didn’t appeal to me. Still, I was a loyal pack member and I’d probably go along with Levi’s wishes like I always had.

Right now, that loyalty was driving me crazy. Levi had me babysitting a woman I’d rather be fucking. Her scent drove me crazy, and every time I laid eyes on her, I got tongue-tied. He might not want her, but that didn’t mean I could have her. According to the bro code a bro’s ex-girlfriend is off-limits.

So here I was, drooling over Delilah, while I made up excuses to explain Levi’s absence. I knew Delilah didn’t believe me and I felt like a heel.

I was pretty sure he was fucking someone. We hold she-wolves to a strict standard of conduct. No sex until marriage. The same didn’t hold true for our men. We could screw around as much as we wanted. It was hypocritical, but it was for the good of the pack, so no one disputed it. Except Delilah. I overheard her yelling at Levi once. She accused him of bringing her to the Adirondacks to be his broodmare. I had to bite my lip so they wouldn’t hear me laughing. Like I said, she’s feisty.

Sighing, I started putting together the end of the month financial reports. The keyboard had been used so much all the letters were worn off. Good thing I knew them by heart. One of the keys started sticking. Luckily, I was done.

I took a swallow of my coffee and listened to the voicemail. My ears perked up when I heard Levi’s voice. Maybe he was coming home, finally.

“Hey, Samson, I’m on my way home and I’m bringing my new wife. Uh, do me a favor, buddy. Can you straighten up the house? Thanks. I owe you one.”

“What the fuck? You owe me a hell of a lot more than one, you son of a bitch.”

To say I was stunned was an understatement. The only tail Levi had been chasing was the demiwolf he’d fucked at his bachelor party. She was one hot stripper, but he should have stuck with humans. Messing with a half-breed can get complicated. But it was his bachelor party, and, like I said, he never listened to me.

What should I tell his parents? And Delilah?

I smelled her before I saw her. Delilah’s tantalizing scent hit me full force. My wolf stirred, randy and ready for business. I looked up and there she was, standing at the open door, the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, a five foot four inch she-wolf with pale skin, flaming red hair, and bottle-green eyes. How could Levi have let her go?

 

About Gale Stanley

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Gale at Changeling Press | Website

 

Bonds of Matrimony by Lena Austin #SciFiRomance #bdsm

Bonds of Matrimony (All Wrapped Up Multi-Author 9)

Cover Art by Angela Knight

Would you give up everything — money, power, and even your old life — to save your marriage?

Realizing her obsession with her job is destroying her marriage — and her life — Million Dollar Millicent, real estate entrepreneur and all around bitch, books a fantasy vacation for herself and her husband Alex on a tropical playground planet. It’s a place where your deepest desires come true — even if you’re not sure what they are.

Alex has had enough of living with a hellcat who jumps at the sound of a ringing com unit. They’ve become a dysfunctional pair bond, and he’d give anything to have things the way they were when they were just poor students with no prospects. Worse, if Millicent knew his true fantasies, she’d be running, rather than trying to mend the breach between them.

But Millicent has some hidden fantasies of her own — and she and Alex aren’t as mismatched as they think.

Get it today at Changeling Press

preorder at retailers for May 8th

 

PRAISE FOR BONDS OF MATRIMONY

“The story of a bit of sin, a bit of bondage play, oh that just heats up the pages… This story is full of heat, love [and] erotic lovin’ that set the pages and me on fire.”

— Nicole Harvey, ParaNormalRomance (PNR)

“Ms. Austin’s futuristic, science fiction world is an exciting and erotic playground that I would like to escape to. Where can I sign up?”

— Tallyn Porter, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

 

 

More from Lena Austin at Changeling Press …

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?

 

 

How Not to Date an Alien by Stephanie Burke #RomCom #SciFiRomance @FlashyCat

How Not to Date an Alien (How Not To 1)

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

 

Kilana knows what her eyes are telling her can’t be true.

There’s a naked man in her bed and he’s glowing. And then there are the solid black eyes, the floating several feet above the bed, and the most damning of all… he has antennas.

The newly divorced Kilana thinks she’s seeing things, but when he opens his mouth and tells her he’s hunting humans and his intentions are to devour her, Kilana knows she has an alien problem.

But who will help her get away from the admittedly sexy creature that wants her pleasured and fattened until her flavor is perfect? Maybe her hair-brained friends Se and Lena can help her avoid the big suppertime cut…

Or maybe she’s on her own with the drooling, leering, orgasm-delivering fiend. And maybe dating an alien won’t turn out to be as big a problem as she thinks.

 

Get it today at Changeling Press

Only $0.99!

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Stephanie Burke

“You have antennas.” Kilana peered closely at the man who was resting rather comfortably beside her on her bed. Somehow, he made the huge California King feel like a college dorm twin.

“And you do not,” he helpfully pointed out, with a black-lipped grin that made his spiky white teeth look all the more deadly.

And, of all things, his long black hair was tied back into a braid that seemed to snake around his firm, pale body. His eyes were a solid black, too, and she was sure if she weren’t so hung over, she would probably be screaming bloody murder right about now.

And the man was naked.

There was only one explanation for this phenomenon. She was still drunk.

“I’m going to close my eyes and count to ten,” she whispered, her head not willing to take even the shock of her own voice raised to a normal conversational tone. “And when I open them, you are not going to be here. Do you understand?”

He nodded his head sadly, pouting a bit. But she hardened her heart. She didn’t have time for imaginary beings in her bed. She was a newly divorced woman, and she had things to do.

Like maybe wake up sober and get her divorce papers framed and gilded.

She peered at him again and had to blink fast and swallow hard. He had the biggest eyes she had ever seen. Those large, liquid eyes were solid black; there was no white at all.

It appeared that all the white seemed to have leaked out into his pale skin. It was kind of a molten silver, rather uncommon but certainly not too abnormal for a figment.

But his head nodding was making her dizzy.

“Don’t nod.” She swallowed again, holding onto a moan with the persistence of a clinging vine of ivy. “You’re making me seasick. God, you’d think that my own figment wouldn’t be so monochromatic as to cause seasickness. I thought I had more imagination.”

So she closed her eyes, inhaled softly, exhaled long, and started counting.

One figment two many. Three reasons to never drink again four any reason. Five senses going crazy, and six is the devil’s number to remind me to stick to seven, heaven’s number, unless it is the number of tequila shots. I should not have eight the worm thing last night and nine martinis are more than enough, especially at ten dollars a glass.”

She opened her eyes, but the very pale and very monochromatic creature was still lying next to her in bed.

“You’re still here,” she moaned, dropping her head back onto the pillows.

“Yes, I am,” he replied, before reaching out with one finger — one finger with the longest black fingernail she had ever seen. “And I will be here for a while.”

He tapped her on the nose, and she knew her eyes were crossing as she stared at his finger, but that was one awesomely sharp-looking talon.

“Doing what?” she asked, wondering if it was insanity to talk to an obviously drug-induced creature from her boring imagination.

Maybe someone had slipped her Special K. Ketamine was said to produce very believable hallucinations in users. Maybe someone had slipped her some and had their wicked way with her prone, helpless body.

Then again, maybe not.

She thought about it for a second, and none of her girl parts seemed particularly sore. Her va-jay-jay felt normal and unused as usual. No odd taste in her mouth, other than stale beer and regret —

“I am hunting.”

“Yeah.” She scrunched her nose and thought for a moment. “That makes sense. Hunting, in my bed, while totally naked. Yes, that makes perfect sense.”

He remained silent and smiling, showing off that mouth filled with fangs.

“Okay, no, it doesn’t.” She winced at the lancing pain in her head. “What exactly are you supposed to be hunting in my bed at –” She glanced out the window, noting it was still night. “–o-dark-thirty? Tell me that, Mr. Monochromatic Figment of My Imagination.”

“I am not a figment.” He stopped smiling. “And my coloring is very nice for my people. It is considered very attractive.”

“I’ve hurt my figment’s feelings.” She groaned, rolled over and closed her eyes again in an attempt to make him go away. But when she opened her eyes, he was still there and waiting to speak.

“I don’t have feelings in the way that you mean.” He pouted prettily.

“Of course not,” she allowed, wondering when she had actually slipped around the bend into insanity.

“And I am not a figment. I am a Scrimtat from Veta Belga.”

“Scrimtat, sure,” she spoke around a yawn. “I can tell by your very black lips and your very black hair.”

“My tongue is black, too. See?” And he stuck out the longest black, forked tongue this side of a freak show.

“I can see why I dreamed you up.” Her voice went thready. “Each fork in your tongue operates individually?”

She had to know. There were so many things she could imagine him doing with that…

 

More from Stephanie Burke at Changeling Press …

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.

 

Caught by Marteeka Karland #scifiromance #bdsm @marteekakarland

Caught (All Wrapped Up Multi-Author 8)

Cover Art by Angela Knight

 

Zuri Starbreeze is a bounty hunter on the trail of the catch of a lifetime. Her prey is a cold-blooded killer wanted dead or alive in every known system, and for good reason. Eight hunters have already died trying to bring him in.

What Zuri doesn’t know is that Cade is hunting her. Knowing she has the elite skills of an Agency hunter, he wants her to join his smuggling ring, but once he samples her erotic skills, he hungers for more. He wants Zuri for his partner, all right. Just not the type of partner he’d planned on.

Flat on her back, writhing and screaming in pleasure, Zuri has a choice. She can resist and risk the wrath of a killer, or submit — and risk losing herself in a den of lust, kinky bondage, and wild sex. One thing’s for sure, no matter her choice, she won’t come out of this the same.

 

Get it today at Changeling Press

preorder at retailers for May 8th

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland

Almost. She almost had him. Zuri studied the feed she was getting from the surveillance satellite she’d commandeered. Cade Brighton was as good as caught.

She’d spotted him five days ago on the war-ravaged planet of Dyson 4 and had been tracking him ever since. Finding him wasn’t even half the battle. Finding him was the easy part. Now she had to wait for the perfect time to nab him. That was the hard part.

Sitting aboard the Hunter’s Conquest, she contemplated her next move. Screwing up was not an option. Screwing up could get her dead, especially with this subject. Five of the last eight hunters who had gone after him had never returned. The other three had been returned to the Agency in corpse containers.

Being a hunter for ten years, she’d learned to trust her gut. There was something about this particular prey that bothered her. She shifted in her seat. She’d have to be extra careful.

After checking her holding area one last time, testing the alterations she’d made specifically for Cade Brighton, Zuri selected two pulsarphaze pistols and set them for heavy stun. The restriction cuffs were an afterthought. She had no illusions he would let her simply cuff him and take him in. He’d definitely put up a fight.

Body armor and personal repulsor shield intact, Zuri readied herself. She thought all the protection was probably a bit of an overkill, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Her prey — it was always her policy to think of the men and women she tracked as “prey” instead of “he” or “she” — was currently lounging in a roughneck bar. Zuri wasn’t worried about going into the bar so much as how the other patrons would react. She didn’t want to have to injure any bystanders. All the more reason for the extra precautions.

It took her thirty minutes to reach her destination on foot, but it seemed like the better choice than actually landing her ship closer to the site. Surprise was her only option. Once there, her adrenaline kicked in, and she had to take several deep breaths to calm herself. It had been a while since she’d been this hyped up about a job. Part of it was because of the dangerous reputation Cade Brighton had built for himself, but part of it was something else entirely.

Cautiously, Zuri entered the establishment. Stepping up to the bar, she ordered a drink and sipped casually while her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. This was when she was at her most vulnerable in any situation. She suspected that was the reason the lights just outside the bar were so bright. Anyone on the inside had the advantage on those entering it.

She stood at her place against the wall for another thirty minutes, making sure not only that her eyes adjusted, but that she knew where everyone in the room was located. When she spotted her prey, she knew she was in trouble.

He sat in a back booth sipping a mug of some alien brew. His eyes glowed a vibrant green in the dim light. Cade Brighton was said to have some kind of enhanced night vision. Given the eerie radiance of his eyes, she guessed the rumors of Cade’s sight were more than interstellar legend. She wondered if he was genetically enhanced as well. She couldn’t see much else. His head was covered with a loose-fitting black hood, leaving only the ends of his dark, shoulder-length hair visible. She suspected he’d allowed her to see what little she did. This was definitely a trap. She’d have to be ready for anything.

 

More from Marteeka Karland at Changeling Press …

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.