Genesis by Gale Stanley #LGBT #PNR #shifters #NewRelease @changelingpress @GaleStanley

Genesis (Wolf Pack 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Genres/Themes: BDSM, Futuristic, Paranormal, Gay, Multiple Partners,
New Adult, Werewolves

 

In the Agéli Lýkon Wolf Pack, there are two types of men, Alpha and omega. Since the knotting ceremony, the submissive Bleu has had no problem adjusting to his position as Grey’s human omega. Their love is strong and their bond is unbreakable. But when they reach out to help another Alpha, their relationship is put to the test.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Gale Stanley

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Friday afternoon, and the wolves were ready to party. They never needed an excuse, but Lykos Stavros, the chapter president of Agéli Lýkon, had planned this celebration for a special reason. The new Alpha pledges had knotted with their human omegas and were now part of the Brotherhood. The omegas were accepted as well, although there were restrictions. They weren’t permitted to live in the fraternity house with their Alphas. Stavros had decided the omegas would be more useful as spies if they lived in the dorms.

The number of Alphas had increased quite a bit since Bleu became Grey’s omega two years ago when they were freshmen. Twenty-two Alphas now resided in the frat house. Stavros considered twenty-two a magic number because two symbolized dualities. The dual nature of the Alphas, wolf and man, was at the heart of the Brotherhood.

The increasing numbers elated Stavros, who didn’t want to reveal their existence until he had gathered many more of his kind. He feared human bigotry and prejudice would wipe out the small band of brothers. Bleu thought he was probably right.

Bleu’s last class had finished at three and he’d come straight to the frat house to help get things ready. The party room had wood paneling that made it look old and sophisticated, but it had everything the brothers needed for a good time. Leather couches provided seating. A wooden bar and a beer pong table filled most of the far wall. Another wall had shelves for a music system and a big screen TV.

Bleu checked the bar to make sure it was stocked. Everything looked ready and the guys were trickling in as their classes ended. Bleu and Grey filled Solo cups with Wolf Spirit Vodka and raised their glasses to a fun night.

At midnight, things got boisterous. Couples were doing tequila shots while others were performing some seriously suggestive dance moves. Many had removed their shirts and pants and were gyrating in their underwear. It looked more like foreplay than dancing. Or the start of a spontaneous orgy. Bleu’s juices were starting to simmer. His tall, dark, handsome Alpha looked especially sexy tonight. A slow number started playing and he was ready to take his footwork to the next level, but Grey begged off.

“I’m tired of dancing. I think I’ll get another drink and sit this one out.”

“Please, Grey. I like this song.”

“How about I find you another partner?” Grey waved over Aleksys Kosta, who’d been his big brother when he was a pledge. “Hey, Alek. Wanna dance with my omega while I get a drink?”

“Love to. Danny is already shit-faced and stumbling over his own feet.” Alek pushed his omega away and approached Bleu. Danny stared after him, a sullen expression on his face.

“Anything wrong?” Grey asked.

Alek grimaced. “Same old same old. Why can’t he live with me at the frat house? I don’t see him enough. I look at other men. It’s all bullshit.”

Grey smiled. “Do you remind him who’s boss?”

“Of course, but his answer to everything is alcohol.”

“Maybe I’ll keep him company at the bar.” Grey walked off.

Bleu stood silent and studied Alek. When Grey pledged, Alek had been Grey’s main source of friendship and support, and they’d been close friends ever since. They’d been lovers, too, but all that stopped when they bonded with their omegas. Bleu had a healthy sexual appetite and he fulfilled Grey’s desires eagerly. They didn’t need anyone else.

But Alek was incredibly attractive, with his thick brown hair and chiseled features, and behind that all-American frat boy look was a sexy, well-hung dominant. Bleu licked his lips. He wanted to woof at the moon. Then he remembered Grey and Danny, and he felt guilty.

Bleu didn’t know the other omega very well. They shared one class and Bleu had tried to befriend Danny, but it hadn’t gone well. Whenever Bleu tried to start a conversation, Danny replied with one-word answers. Bleu didn’t take offense. Danny treated everyone that way. Everyone but Alek.

Alek took Bleu by the hand. “You’re thinking too much. Let’s dance.”

He led Bleu to the center of the room where space had been cleared for dancing. Alek took Bleu in his arms and guided him around the floor. He was a seductive dancer, grinding his body against Bleu’s in time to the slow tempo. The press of Alek’s rock-hard dick against his thigh sent shivers up Bleu’s spine.

Alek nuzzled Bleu’s blond hair and his warm breath fanned Bleu’s ear. “You’re a good dancer.”

“You’re easy to follow.”

Alek pressed his palm to the small of Bleu’s back and pulled him closer. He ground his hips against Bleu’s. Heat curled in Bleu’s belly and he returned the movement. He felt Alek’s hand slip past the waistband of his boxer briefs, but he didn’t protest. Alek squeezed his cheeks and pulled Bleu closer still. Bleu felt giddy. Was it the alcohol, or the man he was dancing with?

Alek’s fingers traced Bleu’s crease as he kissed and sucked on Bleu’s neck. Bleu whimpered, suddenly afraid that he might come right there on the dance floor. He looked up at Alek, wide-eyed.

“You’re irresistible,” Alek whispered. “The way you look at me with those blue eyes…”

Bleu scanned the room for Grey. His Alpha had an arm around Danny, but he met Bleu’s eyes and smiled. Bleu settled back into Alek’s embrace and their bodies moved in unison, their cocks grinding together. Then Alek slid a finger inside Bleu’s hole.

Bleu uttered a high-pitched mewl and wiggled his hips.

“Oh, you are delicious,” Alek murmured.

 

More from Gale Stanley…

 

Their Perfect Sub by Megan Slayer #BDSM #NewRelease #DarkDesire #MultiplePartners #RomanceBooks @MeganSlayer @changelingpress

Their Perfect Sub (The Jordan Brothers 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, 2nd Chance Romance,
Bisexual and More, Multiple Partners, Dark Desire

 

Clint Jordan has been the oddball in his family. He’s the oldest, but has no desire to run the family business. He’s in love with Ronan, despite his mother’s determination to find him a wife. Plus, he wants to share a sub with Ronan. Is there someone out there who can fit their needs and bring them together?

Zari’s running from a past that won’t go away. She needs stability and two men who will cherish her… while giving her a good paddling. When she meets Ronan and Clint, she’s convinced they’re meant to own her. Will these two committed men have space in their life for her?

Ronan got more than he bargained for when he became Clint’s lover. He’s not only with Clint, but he’s under the rule of the Jordan family. Once Zari enters the equation, he’s forced to admit his true feelings for Clint and accept what he needs from Zari. But things aren’t always the way they seem. Zari comes with baggage, and Clint’s determined to make the triad work. Will Ronan accept their terms or walk away?

 

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EXCERPT:

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

“I hate waiting.” Clint Jordan sat on the edge of the sofa and debated how he wanted to present himself. He hated arguments with Ronan more than he detested waiting. A piece of his heart had ripped out when Ronan left. He wished they hadn’t shouted at each other. Ronan was his other half. Going to the office sucked without Ronan across the hallway. Moreover, he missed his sub.

Clint couldn’t sit still. He forced himself not to check the clock for the hundredth time. He didn’t regret taking part in the collaring ceremony with his brother Dashiell and Dash’s wife, Christy. The ceremony had been beautiful and sexy, and she’d only blown him while Dash fucked her.

But Clint hadn’t told Ronan about the ceremony.

Keeping quiet wasn’t smart, but not awful enough for him and Ronan to split. Christy would’ve been overwhelmed by having three cocks, and Dash wouldn’t have allowed Ronan to join in.

The door opened and Clint sat up straighter. He’d devoted the last two years to Ronan and needed him more than ever.

Ronan stepped into the living room. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He wanted to move, but damn it, he couldn’t shake the tension. “Sit down.”

Only Ronan could have him this off-balance.

Ronan sat opposite him and said nothing.

Clint wasn’t sure where to start. “Do you know why you weren’t included in the ceremony?” He owed Ronan a better explanation than none.

“Got right to the point, didn’t you?” Ronan sighed. He now had dark circles under his brown eyes. He looked tired. His black hair needed to be brushed and he should have run an iron over his shirt. He hadn’t shaved in at least two days, and the dusting of hairs on his cheeks and chin added to his appeal. He stole Clint’s breath.

“We need to sort this out,” Clint said. “This is the only way.” No one could ever say he wasn’t blunt.

“We do.” Ronan leaned back in his seat. “I hate fighting.” The collar of his shirt hid the silver chain he always wore — the collar Clint had given him.

“Likewise.” Clint exhaled and swept his gaze over Ronan again. He wanted to kiss his lover and prove everything was all right. He also wanted to know Ronan hadn’t removed the collar. “I hate you’re upset and hate I caused it.”

The muscle in Ronan’s jaw tightened. “I know.”

“The reason they didn’t include you and I didn’t invite you along was Christy. Think about it. Doing three guys is a lot for anyone to take. Sure, some can, and others would love it, but after what she’s been through — the shit at the club, the guys taking advantage and her worthless so-called family — I didn’t have the heart to push. Until Dash rescued her, she’d been treated like garbage. If we’d all been there, she’d have thought Dash was no different. That’s not fair.”

“So? It’s expected at the club.” Ronan folded his arms. “We’ve watched tests of the subs where they’re expected to do more than that.”

Clint knew this game. Ronan wanted to make him hurt, too. “Hold up. I’ve never passed you around, and when I collared you, it was just us,” Clint murmured.

“Everyone does the ceremony in their own fashion. You never had to prove anything to me.”

“I know.”

“Dash knew what he was doing, and he’d approved everything except the blowjob with Christy,” Clint said. “I was the witness.”

“You joined in.” Ronan’s eyes blazed.

“Because I was asked.”

“And you couldn’t have mentioned it to me? Oh, hey, my brother wants me to do his old lady because he wants to collar her. Do you mind?” Ronan growled. “I might have minded.”

“You said no chicks.” Clint leaned on his elbows. “Dash wanted you to be at the wedding. He’d planned on you being one of his attendants. It killed me to go alone.”

“Yet you flew right off to Vegas and left me here.” Ronan shook his head. “I would’ve stayed in the damn hotel room.”

“I not only invited you, but I expected you to come along. You decided you were too… I believe you said sick, to come.” Clint lowered his tone, despite his overwhelming desire to scream. Shouting never solved anything. “My brother asked for me to join in. It wasn’t a slight to you. I honored his wishes. If he’d have said he wanted me to do more than witness, I might have hesitated, and I would’ve told you.”

Ronan rubbed his forehead, then flicked his hair out of his eyes. “I know.”

Clint paused. Ronan had confused him. “Is that why you’re angry? Tell me the whole truth.”

 

More from Megan Slayer…

 

Dawg Town (Tails) multi-author set #boxset #PNR #bisexual #MCromance #bikerbooks #multiplepartners #shifters @changelingpress

Dawg Town (Tails) (Dawg Town Multi-Author 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Renee George
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Shifters, Bisexual and more, Multiple Partners, Wildest West, MC Romance

 

One very special town. A whole lot of very bad — and very hot — Dawgs. Prairie Dawgs, that is…

Anne Kane — Hustle: A game of pool turns into a sexy seduction, Prairie Dawg style.

Lena Austin — Bad Dawg: One OTR trucker. One leather-clad biker. One very special town.

Marteeka Karland — Hot Dawg: Selene’s hot pink Harley is pointed straight to adventure, Dawg Town style.

Mary Winter: Chip & Dale: Usually a prairie dog colony is one male, several females. Tusa wants it the other way around.

Dawn Montgomery — Playing for Keeps: Riley holds all the cards, but Tara’s playing for keeps.

Camille Anthony — Puppy Dawg: It’ll take both hell and high water to set two stumbling lovers on the path to each other.

Tuesday Richards — Mad Dawg: Bryce’s bad started when he dodged a prairie dog and laid down his prized motorcycle… Can the day get any worse?

Carlanime Bligh — Prairie Rose: There’s a hunky new librarian in town, the moon is full, and Rose is in heat!

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 The Changelings
Excerpt from Hustle (Anne Kane)

Kaylee paused and stared at the prairie dog town that spread out endlessly across the flat terrain. Hundreds of the cute little critters popped their heads out of their burrows and started to whistle the minute she’d stepped out of her sporty little Miata in the parking lot of the Prairie Dawg Saloon. The full moon tonight must be affecting the furry little things.

She ran her fingers through her hair and pushed her way through the front doors of the saloon. The subdued roar of conversation she’d heard from the far end of the parking lot stopped as every male in the place turned to stare at her.

Great. She’d come here to blow off some steam. After a hellish day at work that culminated in that bitch of a boss firing her in a very public display of jealousy, she didn’t need a whole room full of people staring at her. She glared at the two men closest, a couple of burly biker types she’d normally drool over, and they quickly looked away. She turned her head to glare at the room in general and felt a surge of satisfaction when the men shrugged and went back to whatever it was they were discussing.

Pleased with herself, she stalked over to the bar and hopped up onto a barstool. A nice cold bottle of beer would go a long way toward helping her mellow out. She spotted the bartender talking to a dark-haired man farther down the bar. He straightened up when she caught his eye and headed toward her.

“Evenin’, ma’am. Name’s Bucky.” He studied her with open curiosity. “I don’t recall seeing you around before, but you look mighty familiar.”

Kaylee rolled her eyes. That had to be the lamest pickup line in the book, and she didn’t dignify it with an answer. “Give me a cold beer. Please.”

“Comin’ right up.” He gave her a bucktoothed grin and waddled off toward the cooler.

She eyed up his plump figure, struck by his amazing resemblance to the prairie dogs that lived in a huge warren of dens and burrows outside of town. The locals occasionally grumbled about the antics of the cute little rodents, but they were fiercely protective of them. “They may be a dang nuisance,” Aunt Cee often said, “but they’re our nuisances, and nobody’s going to hurt a hair on any one of their plump little butts.”

Well, cute as the prairie dogs were, a plump butt didn’t send any shivers of excitement down her spine. She swiveled on the bar stool and surveyed the prospects. For a notorious biker hangout, the action looked tame. Sure, most of the guys sported at least some leather…

“Blake. It must’ve been Blake.”

She turned back to the bar, frowning as she accepted the frosty bottle from Bucky. “What must have been Blake?”

“Sorry, sometimes I’m a bit hard to follow.” He gave her an apologetic shrug. “Blake was a real nice guy, friend of just about everyone here. He came in one day, bragging about this girl in town, real looker. Said he was going straight, going to marry her. Got picked off by a damn eagle the very next morning.” Bucky shook his head sadly. “Never did figure out who the girl was, but it must’ve been your mama. You’re the spittin’ image of him, and the scent is unmistakable.”

Kaylee stared at the chubby bartender in alarm. She assumed an eagle would have to be a rival biker gang, but what the hell did he mean by “scent”? Surely, he didn’t think she smelled like some guy he used to know! She picked up her beer and edged away from the bar. The last thing she needed today was another person flipping out.

A movement at the back of the bar caught her eye as a dark-haired biker sauntered across the well-worn dance floor. Snug fitting jeans showed off his tight butt as he leaned over an ancient jukebox and pushed a few buttons. An old country tune filled the air, and the man straightened, turning to face her.

Kaylee sucked in a deep breath as molten heat ignited deep inside her and she felt her pussy dampen. He caught her gaze, dark eyes smoldering with passion as he sauntered over to one of the well-worn tables and picked up a long-necked bottle, taking a deep swig. Tall and lean, he wore a tight tee shirt and a worn leather vest with those jeans. No plump butt on this one. Despite the sudden feeling that she was in way over her head, Kaylee found her herself drifting in the direction of the jukebox.

 

Something Wicked by Dahlia Rose #DarkFantasy #PNR #DarkDesire #Interracial @changelingpress

Something Wicked (Dark Love 2)

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

 

Humans are marks in Locke’s ledger, nothing more, until he encounters the one woman he can’t tempt, can’t coerce and can’t get out of his head.

Paris Fairchild lives from one paycheck to the next, yet Locke’s never seen anyone happier with their life. Being a demon, Locke could spirit her anywhere, give her anything, but she wants to earn what she gets on her own, no easy way out.

Instead of walking away, Locke finds himself charmed by the young woman and after stealing a kiss he knows he wants to see the world through her eyes. For the first time in an eternity he sees something besides darkness in his future. But there will be a price to pay for falling in love and breaking his contract with hell. When the hounds of hell are set loose, can he withstand the gathering storm to have a forever with Paris by his side?

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Dahlia Rose

He walked in the shadows of the building. The city was ripe with sin, and he was all set to pluck the wayward fruit. Locke was the name he’d been known by for so many years he’d lost count. He frowned as he thought back. Sometimes he forgot the person he had been before. He’d given up everything, or was it nothing? Locke couldn’t remember. He knew it had been his choice to become this thing, this monster who preyed on souls. He was the strongest. He would survive while the others would be crushed.

Sirens wailing, couples arguing and fucking, the aroma of food, and the heat of the day seeping up from the cement brought his attention back to the present. Voices yelled in different languages. He understood them all. A man was trying to sell a tourist a knock-off purse. He talked as though he had little English knowledge, but knew exactly what people were saying. Locke shook his head in amusement when the guy talked the woman out of fifty dollars for a purse he claimed was authentic.

As he walked past a cafe, he took three steps back to look in the window. A waitress wiped her hair away from her face as she bussed a table, stacking dirty dishes on a big tray. She frowned as she picked up her two-dollar tip. When he looked at the table, he saw she was clearly under compensated. Without a doubt, she was the one. Locke saw a new soul to be reaped, one who clearly wanted more from life. He stepped in the Cafe La Paz and sat at a table.

Another waitress came over with a big smile, an appreciative look in her eyes.

“What can I get ya, sweetheart? I do mean anything,” she said in a breathy voice. He could smell the stink of her last cigarette on her breath. Nasty habit.

He pointed at his quarry. “You can get me… her.”

The waitress frowned and her eyes flashed with irritation before she called out, “Paris, your table.”

“Be right there.” The dark-skinned beauty glanced at him casually. Walking to the kitchen, she put away her tray. On her way back, she pulled a pad out of her apron pocket. “Good evening. Welcome to Cafe La Paz. Have you had a chance to look over the menu?”

Locke assessed her. She was pretty in a simple way. Her ebony skin had a sheen from hard work giving her the look of a polished statue made of wood. Her dark brown eyes were wide and her lashes shone like soft waves when she blinked. Her lips were full and colored with lip gloss. She was wearing her hair in a simple ponytail with soft curls in the back.

“Sir?” she prodded gently. “Something to drink?”

“Espresso,” he said. “The other one who smells like cigarettes called you Paris.”

“Yes, that’s my name,” Paris replied.

“I am Locke.” He placed his hand over his chest and bowed.

“Okay, and are you ready to order?” she asked, dismissing the introduction.

“What do you suggest?” Locke asked, amused by her businesslike attitude.

“The spinach crepes with hollandaise sauce is my favorite.”

“Then I’ll have that.”

She moved efficiently to get his coffee, and when it was ready, his meal. She checked in on him as he ate. Paris kept her distance, unlike her co-worker, who kept staring at him. Locke ate as if he enjoyed the food, but in reality every meal tasted the same to him. He didn’t need to eat, but did sometimes to blend in. The only thing that filtered through to his taste buds was the bitterness of espresso. He admitted he loved the taste of the dark brew. Even one like him had vices.

“Anything else?” Paris asked.

“No, I’ve gotten what I came for.”

She gave him a curious look before ripping the receipt off her notepad and placing it on the table with a smile. He was finished his assessment. He reached into his empty pocket and the money he thought of appeared beneath his fingertips. He pulled it out and placed it on the table before standing and walking out the door.

Paris rushed after him a few seconds later. “Sir! Sir!”

He turned. “Locke.”

“Sir.” She didn’t use his name. “You left one hundred dollars for a meal that cost twenty. Don’t you want your change?”

“No, that’s your tip,” Locke replied.

“Why?” Paris asked.

He liked her bluntness. “Because I think you deserve that, and much more.”

“Uh-huh,” she said warily. “I’m giving you notice now, creeps who follow me home usually get a burst of Mace in the face. No one does anything in this town for nothing.”

“It’s just a tip,” Locke assured her. “Goodnight, Paris.”

“Yeah, goodnight.” Paris turned and headed back into the cafe.

He’d made the first move. From there he played the scenario out in his head. She was fierce in her distrust but he sensed the goodness in her like a beacon reaching out. She would make the bosses very happy indeed. A soul like hers fetched a pretty penny in the depths of hell.

More from Dahlia Rose at Changeling Press …

Maybelle Summers and the Demons from Hell by Jonathan Wright #DarkDesire#DarkFantasy #PNR @changelingpress

Maybelle Summers and the Demons From Hell

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

 

Maybelle Summers is a hot honey blond with a heart of gold and notably bad taste in men. That golden heart prompts her to make another in a long line of bad decisions — to wit borrowing money from one Burdette Hunter, the local crime boss.

Enter Quill, an Incubus sent to seduce Maybelle into giving up her soul to Satan. But like Maybelle, Quill sometimes makes bad decisions — like falling for Maybelle. And claiming her — but not for Satan.

Fortunately Maybelle’s equally head over heals for Quill. All of which sets Maybelle on a course that will put Burdette, his collectors (Bad Bob, Bo Williams and Lark Conner), and even Satan himself on her trail. Unfortunately — for Satan — Maybelle’s not really quite as human as she thought she was.

Sometimes even Satan’s past can catch up with him…

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Jonathan Wright

Two a.m. in Hollow Glen. Owls and crickets and Bad Bob — one of Burdette Hunter’s bill collectors, 6’ 5” and nothing but nasty. He kicked in the door to Maybelle’s trailer.

Another man, tall and lean, but nowhere near Bad Bob’s 6’ 5”, hung back in the shadows, waiting near the door.

Bob grunted, stooping a bit to get in the door, “Okay, Maybelle, I come to collect.”

Maybelle was still awake because thinking about the inevitable — in this case Bad Bob or an equivalent permutation — made sleep impossible. Having just erased the simple chalk design on her kitchen table after putting away the five little pink birthday candles and fussing about the melted wax, she shrank back, trying not to be lush and sensual, failing badly.

I wish for a hero and I get nothing. Typical. A complete waste of a pentagonal. She quickly wished hives and bad breath on the person who’d sold her the “self help” pamphlet, figuring she’d get similar results. “What, it takes two of you to break my fingers?”

Bob glanced around, frowning. “What? Don’t play games, bitch. Look, Burdette don’t want me to break nothin’. He just wants to talk.” Bob grinned like a gator, all bad teeth and naked hunger. “He told me I get to make sure you got all your workin’ parts in order.”

Maybelle expected Bob had exaggerated the flexibility of his own authority somewhat. Then she glanced at the other man, who stood quietly, watching. Hard face. Hard body. Hard eyes. She thought he said something, low and menacing.

Frying pan or the fire? She snarled at Bob. “I don’t have the money. Went for doctor bills for Miss Elma, down at the end of the street.” The street being the end of the dirt path folks around here called a road. “The medicine probably saved her life.” Probably nothing, it had. Maybelle got some degree of satisfaction from that.

Bob smirked. “Don’t matter.”

Maybelle understood that better than a Nobel prize winning physicist understood gravity. Burdette wanted to fuck her, and own her, and not in a good way.

“Burdette says you can turn tricks. That body’s worth somethin’. Got to be sure, though.” He moved quicker than she expected and pinned her hot curves against the wall, which flexed alarmingly.

Sepulchral voice from the other. “So what’ll it be? Frying pan or the fire?”

Maybelle chose — having no choice — and screamed defiantly, “Fuck you!”

Bob would have laughed but instead sailed out the door. Hideous shapes snagged his screaming ass and disappeared into the night. His end did not bode well.

Maybelle gasped with shock, breathing heavily, heaving tits and flushed face. “What — what just happened?” She stared at the hard guy and trembled. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing you need to know. Maybe best if you don’t.”

Maybelle didn’t like the sound of that. “He didn’t see you.” She trembled before his penetrating stare.

“Wouldn’t have liked it much if he had.”

That made her shiver. Christ, exactly the kind of guy I want and don’t need. And like that, her nipples got hard and her cunt got hot and wet and she started to tremble.

“What’s your price?” she asked in her patented hot-honey voice that meant she wanted to be fucked right now and which only seemed to manifest at really inconvenient times like this.

He looked her up and down. She saw his cock get big and hard in his pants. Major myth, that guys got hard from just looking at women. But there he stood, hard as a rock.

She smelled his male musk, like a drug to her libido. Her voice dropped an octave, into a husky whisper. “So — so you want to — you want my — body?”

Still nothing, unless one counted the discernible tightening of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed. His hands flexed, opening and closing like he would use them to mold her body to his will.

She shivered again. “Okay. Yeah…” She stripped, not from fear but because she had come close to something very like death and he had saved her and she wanted him to see her nude body and know he could have her if he wanted. Afraid, yes. Very afraid. But getting more and more aroused under his flat stare. Jesus, even his eyes are quiet.

When she stood nude before him, he touched her, almost reverently, hard hands gently but confidently tracing the map of her raging hunger, the hunger she hated for the crappy men it brought into her life. She closed her eyes and moaned, then silently cursed herself for a slut.

“Quiet,” he commanded. “This time I’ll judge your worth.”

… this time… That scared the shit out of her, and made her screaming hungry for his cock. She leaned back against the flimsy wall and moaned again, unable to move except as his hands commanded. “Who are you?” she gasped, already on the edge of unending ecstasy.

“The fire.” His voice went deeper, making her tremble. “Your wish was simple, so the payment is simple. I take you.”

 

More from Jonathan Wright at Changeling Press …

 

Secret Princess by Michelle Hasker #PNR #UrbanFantasy #shifters @changelingpress @Michelle_Hasker

Secret Princess (Dragon Mates 1)

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

 

Posing as her best friend’s lover shouldn’t be a problem. At least that’s what Tonya tells herself — until she meets Michael’s twin brother Gabriel, and finds out just how hot fire dragons can burn.

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Michelle Hasker

It was wrong. Oh, so wrong. Burning in hell was the least of her problems. If Michael could see what Tonya was picturing the two of them doing right now, he’d toss a bucket of water on her. Her best friend would never look at her the same way again. Hell, she was worried about herself.

How insane was it that her inner dragon believed Michael was her soulmate? The fact that he was also a dragon didn’t mean they had to mate. She’d been around other dragons and not heard a peep from hers. Why, oh why, did her stupid dragon think that her best friend was her one true mate?

There were many who never even found their soulmates. She’d once wondered if she’d be one of them. But apparently her dragon was crazy. With her luck she’d already met hers and didn’t even know it. In the meantime, she’d been drinking buddies with Michael for years. Once he’d gotten her the job here, their friendship had evolved until she could honestly say he was her best friend. Hiding her crazy, lust-filled dragon from him was tiresome, though, and in the end she’d confided in him.

Tonya had been afraid to tell him in case it ruined their friendship, but he’d taken it better than she’d imagined. In fact, he seemed rather pleased that her dragon lusted over him. The man was an enigma, but in the end she decided it didn’t matter. Michael meant too much to her for her to walk away. Since he didn’t care when her dragon misbehaved, they were usually able to ignore her.

“Are you listening to anything I’ve said?” Michael waved his hand in front of her face and stared at her.

“What?”

“God, Tonya, what is wrong with you today?” He stood up and crossed the room to look out the large window in his office.

“I don’t know.”

“I know it’s not your dragon’s fault. I can sense when she’s acting up.”

“I think I’m still annoyed with your family. More than annoyed, I’m angry with them. None of them deserve you!”

Michael spun back around. “You aren’t going to back out, are you?”

“No!” She sat up straight and shook her head.

“Is your dragon still trying to convince you that I’m your soulmate?”

Tonya sighed and leaned back in the chair. She crossed her arms and her legs. “Yes. I’m so irritated. I’m positive she’s not even considering other men.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad. Her interest in me is what I’m hoping on using to convince my parents and family that we’re a couple. If you’d found someone else I couldn’t take advantage of you this way.”

Tonya groaned. “Do you need to use words that could be construed in a sexual manner by my dragon?”

“Sorry,” he apologized, but Michael didn’t look even one tiny bit sorry. “But you have to admit that your confused dragon is going to make pulling off this ruse even easier.”

“And how are you going to get your dragon to cooperate?” Tonya stared at him. They were both silent for a long moment. “I still say your parents should love you for who you are, not what they want you to be.”

“I don’t want anyone in my family to know. Can’t let them know. You don’t understand.” Michael frowned, staring at her. “You have to promise not to say anything. I know how hard that’ll be for you, but I need you to do this for me. This is extremely important to me.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going along with this. You know I’ll do it for you. But not taking your asshole family down a peg or two might be impossible. You better not leave me alone with them. I can’t promise what will happen if you aren’t in the room.”

“You know I’ll owe you big for this, right?”

“No, you won’t. You’ve been keeping my secret for years so I think we’ll call this even.”

“I don’t think so.” He looked as if he was going to say something else but his office door opened, and they both turned as one to stare at who would have entered without knocking first.

 

More from Michelle Hasker at Changeling Press…

 

Leandros by Michelle Hasker #futuristic #NewRelease #SecondEdition #PNR #scifi #aliens #shifters @changelingpress @Michelle_Hasker

Leandros (Leandros 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Sahara Kelly
Genres/Themes: Box Set, Futuristic, Sci-fi, Paranormal, Alien Encounter, Shapeshifters

 

Cade knows Sairah is his mate, but she’s been raised on Earth. What he doesn’t know is how to convince her she’s not only an alien, but a lion shifter, as well.

When Matt’s best friend and boss finds a mate, it means a lot more lonely nights for him — until he meets Stacey and realizes his mate has been right under his nose the whole time. But a man with a past like his and no future doesn’t deserve a woman to love him. If only the sexy, stubborn woman would take no for an answer.

Jacob finds himself on trial for a crime he hasn’t committed… yet. Even worse? With his mate under suspicion, only one thing can save them now. The whole truth.

Publisher’s Note: The Leandros Collection contains the previously released novellas Sairah’s Salvation, Matthew’s Redemption, and Dana’s Release.

 

Get it at Changeling Press

pre-order at retailers for April 26th

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Michelle Hasker
Excerpt from Sairah’s Salvation

Sairah moaned and rolled on her back as hands slid over her. Questing hands that had explored every inch of her body for the past few months. Hands that brought her to the pinnacle of desire and thrust her into orgasms so intense she woke entangled in drenched sheets.

But she wasn’t asleep. Not yet. She’d just closed her eyes when the sweet scent of magnolias drifted into her bedroom. How is this possible? Can he be real? Is tonight the night he fulfills my fantasy? God, I wish!

Opening her eyes was out of the question. He might vanish and she’d be left alone. Again.

Sairah gasped as nimble fingers pinched her nipples until they hardened. Tingles raced through her body as her lover worked his magic. He brought her to the edge, then changed tactics and drew her back to that edge time and again, not letting her crest. All coherent thought fled.

With a moan, she arched into his touch, praying this time she’d find release. Her mouth opened wordlessly as shivers raced up her spine. Sairah fisted her hands in her sheets and turned her face, burying it against her pillow. The urge to demand he fuck her was almost overwhelming.

The sound of a baby crying pierced the air, bringing her out of the fantasy with such force she fought to catch her breath. Her pussy ached, and her nipples were swollen buds.

Sairah sat up with a gasp and looked around. All trace of her lover had vanished, but the scent of the blossoms remained. Had he really been here?

Another wail brought her out of bed before she could contemplate more about the realistic dream. Sairah tugged on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt as fast as she could. She pulled on her sneakers, grabbed a flashlight, and ran outside.

What is a child doing outside at this time of night? And behind my house no less!

The sound brought back memories she’d rather have left buried. A neighbor’s child had been four when she’d wandered out of her backyard and into the forest. By the time they found her body she’d been missing for days. If she could prevent something terrible from happening to someone else’s child, she would. No matter the cost.

Sairah dodged a thorny branch and delved deeper into the forest. The warning her neighbors gave her last week when she moved in raced through her mind. Never go into the woods. Especially not alone, and never at night. Evil lurks in there.

Sairah heard the cry again and shivered, suddenly cold. Worry and fear urged her deeper into the trees. She squeezed between two oak trees, trying to follow the narrow path that led from her backyard into the dark woods. At least the full moon gave her some light to see by, but the trees and bushes hid rocks and roots that slowed her progress. It was no wonder people disappeared in here. They probably wandered in circles until they starved to death.

She didn’t know what evil they spoke of, but if there was even a slight chance that a child could be in danger, she would risk it. Her life would be a small price to pay to spare a family from the agony of losing their baby. She didn’t have much to lose anyway.

The sweet scent of magnolias tickled her nose, reminding her of her dream man. The tall, blond man who set her flesh on fire and ignited desires that terrified her in their intensity. In her dreams, a group of strangers surrounded them as he cupped the side of her face and pressed his naked body against hers until she woke quivering with need.

Suddenly everything grew quiet. Sairah snapped out of her daydream with enough force to make her stumble. While she crouched and rubbed her stinging palms on her jeans-clad knees, she listened to the eerie silence. Usually a predator caused a silence such as this. Maybe the stories of wild cats were true. Cats didn’t frighten her, but dogs did, and there were also rumors of wolves in these parts. Sairah would rather take her chance with a cat any day.

A twig snapped on her left. She turned slowly, hoping it was just a squirrel. On the ground a few feet away she noticed something small and unmoving. It lay in the shadows, making it difficult to identify. She shone the flashlight at the area but couldn’t make anything out.

As Sairah stepped closer to it, the scent of blood and feces grew stronger until it became unbearable. She pinched her nose to shut out the offensive odor. Sairah nudged the small furry mound with her foot. The head rolled to the side so that lifeless black eyes stared at her from the familiar face of a raccoon.

Sairah released her nose and covered her mouth to stifle the scream that rose in her throat as she backed away from the dead animal. What had done this?

A growl came from her right. Sairah turned with as little motion as possible, and looked for the source of the noise. She spied a dark shape under a small pine tree. A large, grotesque wolf-like creature crept forward and stopped just outside of the shadows. At least she thought it was a wolf. It was larger than any she’d ever seen either in captivity or in the documentaries on television. Its beady black eyes were focused on her, sending shivers skittering up her spine, and not from the cold this time.

When the creature took another step toward her, panic flared as the moonlight illuminated it. Long, black hair covered it from the top of its head to the tip of its tail. Its ears stood up as if it was listening to something. Sairah held her breath and listened, but the only sound she could hear was the thundering of her heart as it slammed in her chest.

The ears lowered and its mouth opened, revealing large, white teeth. Teeth that dripped with fresh blood. Her heart leapt in her throat as she turned and ran, fear overriding common sense as she fled through the forest, the giant wolf right on her heels.

Sairah pushed her body to its limit, ignoring her burning lungs and calves. She raced through a thorny bush, scraping her arms and legs through her jeans and T-shirt as the briars snagged her.

After tearing herself free, she continued to run. Twigs snapped beneath her feet. Branches smacked her face and caught in her hair. She didn’t know if it was her imagination or if she really could feel the creature’s hot breath on her neck, scorching her sensitive flesh, but either way she didn’t stop to check.

The panting sounds the wolf made grew closer each time she stumbled. Unable to stop herself, Sairah chanced a look behind her and tripped. The flashlight flickered and went out when it hit the ground, bounced and skittered away. She went down hard, landing on her left arm. Sairah cried out as intense pain swept through her.

Cradling her arm close, Sairah tried to stand up, but tripped on the root again and fell back down. A low growl reached her ears, and Sairah looked up into the evil eyes of the beast less than five feet away.

In slow motion it rose on its hind legs and walked toward her as a human would. Bones and muscles shifted until the creature resembled a hairy man with a long, narrow face.

“My God,” she gasped and tried to push herself backward in the cold, damp leaves.

It was a werewolf. Only, those creatures weren’t supposed to exist. They were bedtime tales or movies made to frighten people. How could this thing be real?

A half-human, half-wolf hand closed around her ankle, claws digging into her flesh. She felt around in the dirt with her right hand until she found a stick. She prayed it was long and sturdy as she lifted it out of the leaves and stabbed at the beast with it. The werewolf howled in pain as she slammed the stick into its face. Temporarily free, Sairah scrambled up and ran as fast as she could, praying the moon would go behind the clouds so the creature would revert to full human form. Or was that just something made up for the movies? Her thoughts veered to the fantastical as she ran for her life.

 

More from Michelle Hasker at Changeling Press