Category Archives: New at Changeling Press

New Release: The Ruins by Torri Heat #Christmas #DarkFantasy @torriheat

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Joelle and Luc escaped hell — barely. But now hell is coming for them on Earth. They know what Joelle can do, and the stakes are high. Luc is doing his best to stay sane and protect Joelle, which is easier said than done when dealing with the feisty blonde. But the two will have to work together — even when separated — to prove that their love is strong enough to overcome even the deadliest of battles.

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Torri Heat

Luc

I woke up from the dream that’s been plaguing me for months. The one where the world was burning. The one where she was burning. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I was never fast enough to save her. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t enough.

Her blonde hair blew in a breeze I couldn’t feel, the air dry against my parched skin. Her perfect mouth was caught open in a scream, her brilliant blue eyes locked onto mine, begging me to save her. How could I save her when I was the one who had put the stake in her heart? My actions chained her to that cross. My decisions cursed her very existence, compelled by my greed, my desperation to possess her essence.

I had known the minute I saw her that I wanted her. Needed her. Craved her. So I had taken her, and claimed her as my own. I corrupted the purity within her, flooding every inch of her with my shadows until her aura grew as dark as my own.

Joelle.

She lay next to me in bed, a near replica of the one we had shared the night before, and the night before that. The rundown motels blended together, a blur of faded carpets and outdated curtains. We had to stay on the move, never knowing when hell would strike next. The devil was coming for us, of that I was certain. He wanted Joelle, and everything she stood for. A gateway between this realm and hell — a way for the Mares to take over the human world. He would burn this whole Godforsaken place down to the ground, leaving us to smolder in the remains as He pawed the scorched earth for her.

Joelle.

She was pulling away from me. Retreating into herself. On the outside she was still the Joelle I had always known and loved — ready with her sharp tongue, and quick wit. But when she thought I wasn’t looking her gaze would drift toward the window, staring at something I couldn’t see. She was frozen in the past, some part of her soul still trapped in hell from the things she had seen in the Tribunal. The betrayals of her family. The newfound knowledge that she was something else. Something more. The only time she seemed to come fully alive was when we fucked, her body rolling beneath my own and meeting me thrust for thrust. My Joelle came back to me in the dark of the night, with strokes of my hand and the small cries she offered up when she came.

But we couldn’t always have sex. We were on a mission to find Zion, and to gather up as many other earth-side beings as we could before hell launched their first attack. We had time yet, or so I thought. The whole reason He wanted Joelle was to make it quicker for the demons to flood this plane, so for right now it would take them time to gather the numbers they would need before they dared to attack. They knew I would fight with my last breath to protect Joelle, and they knew just how dangerous my smart-mouthed beauty could be. And if they were smart, they would know I would be looking for Zion.

Joelle’s breath caught next to me, and I froze in my thoughts. I knew what was next. It was the same thing that had been happening every night since we escaped hell. Her eyelids flew open, her bright blue gaze unfocused as it darted around the room. And then she screamed.

“Joelle!” I threw my body over her before the thrashing started. Last night she had managed to throw her body off the bed before I could catch her. “Joelle! Love, it’s okay. I’m here. You’re here. You’re safe.”

The lies rolled off my tongue so naturally, the same falsehoods I had told her every night she had woken up screaming, an aura of death so heavy around her. Slowly, her body stopped twitching, and the screams dimmed to gasps as Joelle came back to herself. “Luc. Am I dreaming?”

I shook my head, pushing my weight off her body. “No, love. We’re here. This is real.”

She nodded, licking her full lips. The silence felt deafening, filling the full dark of the room.

“What do you need?” She would never admit her brokenness, and I would never comment on it. But still I felt at a loss for how to fix someone so shattered. My hands were designed to destroy, not to mend.

Joelle didn’t speak. She dragged her fingers up my bare chest, goosebumps following the path she took. When her hands rested on my shoulders, she squeezed, pulling me closer.

I met her mouth with a consuming kiss, darting my tongue between her lips. Joelle moaned quietly, and I leaned forward, trapping her face between my forearms.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

Find all of Torri’s books and sign up for her newsletter at her website, or follow her on social media. You can also leave reviews!

Now in Paperback: Krampus Bah Humbug by Crymsyn Hart #darkfantasy #holidayromance #LGBTQ @crymsynhart

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Elves running amok in Christmas Town… cannibal gingerbread men… Krampus is in for the ride of his life!

Claiming Cupid: Krampus never thought his heart could be captured — until he met Cupid.

Krampus Does Dallas: Riding a bull has never been more stimulating!

Forging Krampus: Samhain is determined to rock Krampus’s world, but something dark is eating away at Samhain’s realm.

Krampus to the Rescue: Only Krampus can make Santa say ho-ho-ho!

Krampus Bah Humbug: Krampus has to get with the holiday attitude or lose all he holds dear. Bah, Humbug!

Y’all Tied Up: Clive and Aniston must escape before Krampus can feed them to the cannibal gingerbread men!

Publisher’s Note: Krampus Bah Humbug contains the previously released novellas Claiming Cupid, Krampus Does Dallas, Forging Krampus, Krampus to the Rescue, Krampus Bah Humbug, and Y’all Tied Up. The Krampus Box Set presents these stories in chronological order, rather than the original release order.

Available at Amazon

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2021 Crymsyn Hart
Excerpt from Krampus Does Dallas

“Have a good evening.” Krampus moved through the crowd that had gathered around them. He entered the town. The shops had closed up for the day. The road was dry and in need of rain. The only rowdy place was the tavern. He slid inside. Few people noticed as he walked in, but they didn’t say anything when he sat down in a corner booth. He sat back and watched the place fill with the laborers of the town. A waitress came by and set a mug down on his table.

“You sit at a table, you gotta order food.”

“Fine. Bring me whatever’s on the menu.”

The waitress came back with some kind of stew and bread. He dipped the bread into the broth and took a taste of it. He coughed at the seasoning. Besides having an overabundance of pepper, it was edible. His stomach growled. He thought about his interaction with the owner of the rodeo. He’d bought a bull. Why the hell did I buy the bull? I don’t need it. Now I’m stuck with the beast. I’m sure it’s had a taxing life.

He glanced up from his meal when the noise level dropped. A group from the rodeo entered the tavern. One of the thugs who had stopped him approached the bartender. The group followed behind him.

“A round of ale for the lot.”

The bartender crossed his arms over his chest. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Your kind ain’t wanted here. Best if you get out before I have someone throw you out.”

“We have a right to be here just as anyone else.” The thug sat at the bar. The rest moved into a table that emptied out since they had come in. The rodeo participants all looked as though they had a difficult life. All were tanned and wrinkled from years in the sun and hard work. Krampus didn’t envy them. The tension in the bar grew. He sat back. The bartender and the other patrons surrounded them.

A cloaked figure slipped past them and hovered by Krampus’s table.

“Why don’t you sit here? It looks like everywhere else is taken.” Krampus found himself saying.

The man looked at him. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t. Sit or don’t sit.”

Krampus pushed the plate aside and laid a couple of silver coins on the table. They would more than cover the cost of his meal and the ale. He didn’t want the waitress to hassle him any longer. The man glanced at the coins and the unfinished bowl of stew. He sat down and reached for the stew. Then the stranger pulled his hand back.

“You going to eat that?”

“Have at it.”

The stranger’s hands were dark, almost like polished black marble. His arms were decorated with long-healed-over scars. The man took the bowl and brought it in close to him, protecting it. When he ate, the hood of his cloak fell away, revealing a bald head, a strong jaw and a flat nose. His eyes were gold when he looked up at Krampus. Something in that gaze stirred Krampus’s desire.

“What?” the man asked around a mouthful of bread.

“Nothing. I just noticed you were hungry. I could make it worth your while if you wanted to come back to the house with me.”

“So you can fuck me? I’m not a whore. I see how you’re looking at me.”

Krampus held back a smile. “No. I wasn’t considering sex. I just meant I have better food than what you have there. Plus, you can sleep in a bed. It looks like you might need it. No strings attached.”

The other man eyed him. “I thought you said you didn’t care.”

“It’s obvious your companions don’t care about you or you would’ve come in with them. And you wouldn’t have been hiding your appearance. I’m surprised you’re still with them. Of course, I could be way off on my observations. Come or not, but I’m leaving.” Krampus got up from the booth and left the tavern. After he rejoined the darkness, the tavern door slammed shut.

“Where are we going?”

“Follow me.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

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

New Release: The Night Bartender by Alexa Piper #darkfantasy #holidayromance #LGBTQ @prowlingpiper

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Aaron has come to Fairview to find his ex’s teenage sister, who went missing in the city. As a witch both rich and powerful, Aaron follows a trail that leads him to a bar frequented by supernaturals and to a bartender who attracts Aaron’s attention — and not just because the bartender is keeping something from Aaron. When Aaron runs out of leads, he follows the mysterious and pretty bartender, and the next thing Aaron knows, he’s foiling an attempted abduction.

Ilya has built a quiet life in Fairview mixing drinks and flying under the radar. He is a banshee, and the psychic ability and mild telepathy that comes with that makes Ilya a sought-after commodity. That carefully constructed life Ilya built for himself breaks into a thousand pieces when a handsome witch starts asking questions and becomes Ilya’s rescuer mere hours after they meet.

The witch, Aaron, vows to protect Ilya and to keep his secret. Now Ilya has to decide whether he will give Aaron his trust and risk a lonely but safe life as a night bartender in a wintry city in which people disappear only to then turn up murdered.

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Alexa Piper

Aaron buried his hands in his coat pockets and gave the bleak Fairview midday sky a hard look. Not that the sky gave much of a damn. It was late November, just after the Thanksgiving weekend, and for most of the morning, it had sleeted in a way Aaron had never before experienced in his life. It was like a hot shower, except the cold, freezing water got all the way through to your skin and passed the cold to every inch of your body.

“Damn city just might be cursed with bad weather,” Aaron mumbled as he walked along a street in the Old Town, which should lead him to a bar friendly to the not-quite-human clientele if his online research skills hadn’t failed him. A deep black cloud caught his attention. It zapped across the horizon as if blown by a particularly vicious breeze. Aaron frowned before he picked up his pace. The sooner I’m done here, the sooner I can go back to Morrowvale where November doesn’t suck so bad your balls want to freeze off in surrender, he thought.

In all honesty, Fairview wasn’t a bad place. The city itself was nice enough. The parks and trees here littered the streets with the bones of leaves turning to sludge in the puddles left from the earlier sleet showers, and the people, while ignoring both other people and the suck-tastic weather, dressed a little nicer than the average Morrowvaler. Aaron had also never had Japanese food as good as he’d had an hour ago in a small, unassuming place he’d accidentally walked into, at least not outside Japan. That counted for something, at least in Aaron’s book.

Traffic was in what passed for a bit of a midday lull in Fairview. The honking had ebbed to a not-eardrum-shattering noise, and Aaron managed to cross the street without it feeling like he was gambling with his life.

The Ragdoll was a basement bar, and if Aaron hadn’t been looking for it, he probably would have missed the small neon sign that was either broken or just off this early in the day. A wrought-iron fence further hid the sign and the door, which lay at the bottom of a flight of stairs. This could be a private gambling den or the hideout of a bunch of Russian spies, Aaron thought.

He walked down the stairs and pulled the door open just as another sleet shower was getting ready to wash the streets and everyone walking outside with icy wetness. Aaron shivered as he crossed the threshold and blinked into the softly lit bar.

Last week’s Thanksgiving paper turkeys and fall-colored garlands were still up, though a busboy collected the decorations into a cardboard box labeled “Turkey Day” in black sharpie. There were no Russian spies and no gambling going on here.

Surprisingly, there were several patrons in the bar this early in the day. Aaron spotted a handful starting their day’s drinking early, but most nursed mugs of coffee or were digging into sandwiches which, admittedly, looked better than was right in a basement bar. Judging by their business suits, those were just office workers who knew where the good sandwiches were at. The music was pop, playing just loud enough to offer background noise without becoming obnoxious. This place, despite the outward appearance, looked hip, trendy even. Fucking Fairview. This city is as confusing as a clown at a dinner party, Aaron thought.

Aaron’s fingers closed around the talisman in his pocket. With his touch and the smallest pinch of magic, he felt the worked metal coin activate and the spell bound to it sizzle to life. Three people, including the strawberry-blonde girl behind the bar, whipped their head around to look at him. So, this place really is supernatural friendly, Aaron thought. The talisman heated rapidly in his pocket. And Dora definitely was here before she disappeared.

That confirmed, he let go of the talisman and walked straight to the bartender. The other two patrons who’d noticed his magic had gone back to ignoring him like the good Fairviewers they were.

“Hi,” Aaron said, giving the strawberry blonde his best winning smile. “What’s good here?”

She shrugged. “Depends on whether it’s drink-o’clock in your world or not. If not, the pumpkin spice latte kills. If yes, you look like a Macallan kind of guy.”

Aaron grinned at her. “You’d be right about the whiskey, but I think I’ll go with the latte,” he told her.

He was doing his best with the charming vibes, which usually worked even if he turned it on women, but the bartender just nodded and went about preparing his coffee. Aaron watched her, more interested in the fact that she was making coffee at a bar decked out with an impressive assortment of liquor than anything else. The coffee machine was one of those intimidating ones that took up some primo counter real estate, and from the looks of it, it saw some use.

When she was done, she brought the latte over to him and puffed a dash of cinnamon over the foamy top right in front of him. The warm scent of the spice immediately made Aaron feel just a little more optimistic about everything. The mug was the cutesy kind with a grinning, red-nosed reindeer on the side.

“There you go,” she said with little enthusiasm, though not exactly unfriendly.

“Thanks, miss,” Aaron said. Before she could walk away again, he focused on her instead of the latte. “Could I ask you something?”

“I’m guessing I’m not your type, so go right ahead,” she said.

Aaron’s eyes widened, and it was the girl’s turn to chuckle. “Half-succubus,” she said on a whisper. “The gay-dar is practically built-in.”

He nodded, fighting the color rising to his cheeks. “Right. Makes sense.” Aaron cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you’ve seen this girl,” he said and pulled the photo Patrick had given him from his pocket. It showed Dora smiling, her blond hair shimmering in the sun.

The half-succubus took a look, then shook her head. “No, sorry. Friend of yours?”

“My ex’s sister, believe it or not,” Aaron said. “She went missing, and I tracked her first to Fairview, and now here.” Aaron had the cellphone gods to thank for that. It made using his magic almost unnecessary, although Aaron still liked to confirm the actual person had been to a place, not just their phone, hence his talisman.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Visit her website.

New Release: O Christmas Tree by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #holidayromance @CarringtonEmily

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For Jake, losing his eyesight isn’t nearly as frightening as having to rely on someone else. Especially if he wants that other person to be his lover. He was taught from an early age that being gay is synonymous with being a sissy and he can’t see past that lesson to the one Tyler is trying to teach him.

Tyler has been attracted to Jake since they first met. When Jake comes to Tyler’s bed, it seems all of Tyler’s dreams are coming true. Except Jake doesn’t want more than friends with benefits. Can Tyler stand being Jake’s second choice?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Emily Carrington

For Tyler Carter, there was no better pre-Christmas present than watching Jake swim. The lean-muscled, pale-skinned man was God’s gift to the world of gay men. With his Irish last name, Calhoun, he should have been freckled too, but Jake had been adopted. Tyler sometimes wondered how his mother could have possibly given him up as a baby. But maybe she’d had no choice.

He watched Jake knifing his way through the water at Colton University’s pool and his cock rolled over in its winter hibernation. It took very little time in Jake’s presence to waken Tyler’s body even though they’d never even kissed. Hell, they’d never even held hands.

Jake knew nothing of Tyler’s longing, although Tyler was hoping the vacation they were taking together would change that.

Shoulder-length chestnut brown hair was plastered to Jake’s head like a helmet and Tyler’s fingers itched to touch the slightly curly locks. Jake’s tattoo, on the right side of his back and over that shoulder, was of a dolphin and ocean waves. The twenty-seven-year-old certainly swam like a dolphin.

Tyler knew he should call to Jake, get his attention. They were due at an appointment in less than an hour and who knew how long it would take Jake to get dressed? But Tyler couldn’t quite bring himself to raise his voice or even to speak. Jake was so beautiful while swimming.

If Tyler watched much longer, he’d have to hide in a bathroom and take care of his little problem before the appointment.

He approached the edge of the pool, not close enough to get accidentally splashed. He thought, All the angels in heaven would sing your praise if they were allowed.

Jake was in the second lane from the edge and when he reached the deep end’s side, he finally came up for air. He shook his bangs out of his eyes and turned his head. Maybe he’d somehow sensed Tyler’s nearness, or he was looking for him. Their gazes met and locked. Jake’s grin lit up his whole face, from stretching lips that were slightly pinker than the rest of his skin to crinkling the corners of absolutely stunning hazel eyes.

He swam over to Tyler, gestured for him to step back a bit, and then, with what looked like very little effort, hoisted himself out of the deep end.

Tyler wanted to turn away and adjust his jeans so his boner wouldn’t be so obvious, but he knew doing anything like that would draw more rather than less attention to his reaction. So, feeling his cheeks heat up, he grinned back at Jake.

“Are you early or did I lose track of time?” Jake glanced over his shoulder at the cock hanging on the wall.

The clock, Tyler thought. Not the cock, the clock. Get your mind out of the gutter.

The past six months knowing Jake had been a pleasure. Learning, about six weeks ago, that Jake was gay had just been icing on the cake.

Jake said, “I guess time got away from me.” He walked over to his shower shoes and put them on. “I’ll meet you out front? I need to towel off and get dressed.”

Can I come with you? Tyler swallowed the words. Jake had been walking a very fine line since coming out to Tyler, never being suggestive in his speech or actions. But he was too friendly to tell Tyler he didn’t want him. Or maybe that was just Tyler’s impression. Maybe Jake was one of those weird people who believed it was okay to be gay but wrong to act on it.

Tyler was Christian. Jake wasn’t. At least Tyler didn’t think he was because he didn’t go to Tyler’s church, and he didn’t seem to attend any of the others in Marisburg or Colton.

“I’ll meet you out in the main lobby,” he told Jake now. “We’ve got a little over forty minutes to get there, so there’s not too much of a rush.”

“I’ll probably shower if I have time. There’s nothing more offensive to some people than smelling like chlorine.” Jake flashed him another killer smile, complete with a dimple. “I’ll be out soon.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male, female/female, and transgender romance. She has been writing since 2011 and has dedicated her career to two universes: SearchLight and Sticks and Stones. SearchLight is all about magical creatures finding their HEA, and Sticks and Stones finds happily-ever-afters for her contemporary characters. Sticks and Stones tends to happen in small towns, whereas SearchLight happens all up and down the East Coast and across the United States.

New at Changeling Press: Bite Me for Christmas by Megan Slayer #holidayromance #vampires #urbanfantasy @meganslayer

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Rachael isn’t good at magic, and she’s not versed in life, but this witch wants to lay her hands on the sexy vampire who’s come to her in her dreams. She wants just one thing for Christmas wish — her vampire.

Gavin wants the witch in his dreams, but he doesn’t believe he’s worthy of her. Part of him wants to devour her magic and save himself, but what if being saved doesn’t involve dying?

Anything is possible with a little Christmas magic.

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Megan Slayer

How had she managed to summon a vampire?

Christmas lights bathed the room in a rainbow of color. Tinsel glittered around her window, and the tiny Christmas tree turned in small revolutions on her dresser. She was in her room and safe.

She was also a witch who not only believed in the creatures of the night, but also in Christmas. Krampus could haunt her, too. She was a conundrum mixed with confusion.

She sighed. If she wanted the vampire to come to her in person, she’d have to appeal to a higher power. Her sisters wouldn’t help and would probably try to steal him away, if they didn’t kill him first. Krampus hated her because she wasn’t bad enough. Clumsy, yes. Prone to mistakes? Sure. But bad? No. The only shot she had was Santa.

Damn.

Santa didn’t pay the coven much mind. It didn’t matter if she put out milk and cookies for him or that she believed he existed. If she existed and so did Krampus, why couldn’t Santa? Belief wasn’t enough. Santa wasn’t coming down her chimney.

Still, she could ask and believe.

She left her bed and ventured over to the window. Santa might not listen, but she had to try. Christmas was in two days, and she had a Christmas wish. If anyone could come through for her, it was Santa.

She held onto the windowsill. She hated being interrupted before she reached orgasm, but she needed her vampire to be there so she could. He mattered. Him being real mattered.

“Dear Santa, I should write a letter, but this seems faster. I could conjure you, but if I did, I’d probably give you four heads or turn you into a dragon by accident. Anyway, I’m tired of getting three-fourths of the way to climax and not being able to finish. Why? I know this seems like a strange thing to mention, but I’m trying to have sex in my dreams — which isn’t as good as the real thing — and it’s with a vampire. He could kill me, but I’m drawn to him. I don’t know who he is, Santa, but I want him. My Christmas wish is for the vampire in my dreams to come to me in real life. He might destroy me, but he might be what I need, and I want to find out. I accept the risk. Please, fulfill my Christmas wish and put a vampire under my tree.”

She swore she heard other voices and paused. Damn it. Her sisters must still be awake downstairs and heard her moving. If they did, they’d want her to get to work on whatever chore they’d found. They treated her like a fucking servant.

“Are you awake?” Serena, her oldest sister, called. “Rachael? If you’re awake, then there’s a sink full of dishes that need done.”

“It’s too early for her to be up,” Millie, her other sister, said. “She’s not awake. You’re imagining things.”

How could she sleep with the noise from her sisters downstairs? They treated her like a child and servant. The only way she’d have a chance at a life of her own would be to find the vampire and run the hell away.

“Please, Santa,” Rachael said. “I want my vampire for Christmas.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

BOOK REVIEW: El Diablo by Marteeka Karland #mcromance #agegap #suspense @marteekakarland

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Jezebel – Life in a gilded cage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be – especially if the whole purpose of the cage is to keep me a virgin till I’m ready to be sacrificed to the man of my father’s choosing. I want out, and don’t think I haven’t tried. It’s not that easy with Daddy’s Brotherhood guards all over the place. But that doesn’t mean I want to trade one cage for another. And, let’s face it, I have no idea how to live on my own. I’ve never had the chance. Now I’m not sure I want to learn, because my new jailer – err, rescuer — is the sexiest man I’ve ever known. El Diablo’s not the monster everyone’s made him out to be. But can I tame the beast of a man without losing my heart? All I want for Christmas is a chance to find out…

El Diablo — I went hunting for a victim. Instead, I found a Christmas Angel. She’s the daughter of my enemy, used as a pawn in a deadly game of chess. All I really wanted was the Brotherhood out of Palm Beach. Instead I found an innocent who brings out a side of me I’d thought long buried and gone. But Jezebel’s younger than my own daughter, and just as much trouble. And I’m El Diablo — a title I earned heart and soul. I’m so not what she needs. And now she’s under my protection in the Black Reign compound. She should be completely off-limits. I won’t let the Brotherhood take her back and force her to give up her dreams. But who’s going to protect her from me?

WARNING: Contains explicit violence and scenes of dubious consent. As always, there is a HEA and no cliffhangers.

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MY REVIEW – 5 stars

El Diablo might be book 5 in the Black Reign MC, but it’s written in such a way you won’t be overly confused if you haven’t read the previous four books. That being said, you’ll probably enjoy it more when you know the backstory of El Diablo and some of the other characters.

El Diablo – aka Liam – has never wanted to claim a woman. Until he meets the perfect one. She’s innocent, yet daring. Everything about her intrigues him, and makes him to want to hold onto her. Talk about an over the top alpha male! El Diablo brings that and more to the table. If you like sexy older heroes, then his story is a must read!

Jezebel’s father is a monster and she’s remained somewhat sheltered most of her life. Doesn’t make her any less wild. She’s bold and ready to experience all life has to offer. I loved the way she just made herself at home when El Diablo took her back to the Black Reign compound. Seeing her interactions with the old ladies and the kids made me smile.

While there’s some holiday cheer in this story, and quite a bit of hilarity, it’s not lacking the suspense and heat you expect when you pick up a Marteeka Karland book. It’s perfect for unwinding at the end of a long day! This one is full of steam, heart-melting scenes, and those bad boy alpha men we’ve all come to love.

WHAT ARE REVIEWERS SAYING?

“OMG! He was totally worth the wait!!!! I love El Diablo & Jezebel she is the perfect match for the leader of Black Reign!” – Melissa, Goodreads

“OH MY GOSH!!!!! El Diablo is EVERYTHING you could hope he’d be. He’s HOT, HOT, HOT, FLAMING HOT!!!!!!!!” – G, Goodreads

“Wow, just wow! El Diablo is so much more than I expected. I lost myself in these characters and pages.” – Andrea, Goodreads

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Marteeka Karland

El Diablo

Sitting off in the distance next to a densely wooded area, the house looked like something out of a horror movie. Sure, the grounds were immaculate and the structure itself a beautiful, Gothic architecture, but with the trees bare of leaves and the full moon hovering above it with a halo of fog around it, not to mention the tall, imposing fencing with razor wire surrounding it… Yeah. The place could have been an asylum in a slasher film.

From what I’d found out from Drago and Pretty Boy, the girl I had been searching for was being held in this house. Had been in this house her entire life. Not just living there. By all accounts, she’d never once left it.

“No change, Liam,” El Segador — the Reaper — said to me on our personal line. He was one of a very few people who knew my real name. Mainly because we’d grown up together, and he’d willingly followed me for close to thirty years. “She’s still on the upper floor. West wing. Giovanni swears he got it right, and that there’s a tracker on her person.”

“Very well. Is there any way to get in and contain her before we breach the house from below?”

“Negative. Security equipment’s too sensitive. You can go up the side of the house and breach from the roof, but Giovanni says the only viable entrance opens up two rooms away from her. You’ll still have to navigate the hallway, which is probably full of Malcolm’s men.”

“That’s my entry. You come up from below and eliminate as many as you can… quietly. If I need a distraction, you call in the boys, and you’re it.”

“Copy that.”

I switched to the team channel. “It’s a go. El Segador and I will enter first. Other than that, follow the plan.”

“Not comfortable with that, boss,” Archangel keyed in. “Everyone agreed I should take point. Besides, Samson will kill my ass if you come back with so much as a scratch. I know, ‘cause he told me so.”

“I’ll endeavor to appease Samson’s delicate sensibilities,” I replied dryly. While I trusted my club with my life, I wasn’t willing to take the chance the girl was out and about in the house. Or that she could sneak out of her room. Drago had spoken highly of her intelligence and skill. While he’d been able to speak, that is. The fewer of us in the house until she was in my custody, the less likely it was there would be accidents.

“Going on the record I’m objecting strenuously to this. Something happens and El Diablo gets hurt, you motherfuckers better back me up,” Archangel replied crossly.

On any other occasion I’d have taken pity on him and let him lead the mission. Or El Segador. But this was too important. I let my club do many things in the guise of safeguarding me. Only because it pleased them, and I was willing to give a little and look weak if it made them happy. Every single one of them was more than capable, so, as long as the risk was acceptable, I indulged them. They always did what I asked of them to the best of their abilities. It was the least I could do when none of them asked for anything. Typically, I had to force on them their heart’s desires. This, however, was different. Malcolm was a fierce opponent, one I knew almost as well as I knew El Segador. I didn’t want to risk my brothers on someone so unpredictable without knowing exactly where the bastard was and how much he was expecting from me.

“I got your six,” Hardcase spoke up. I could detect the faintest amount of humor in his voice. “For all the good it will do you.” There were chuckles over the radio as throat mics were activated with the sound.

“If you are all finished, El Segador and I would appreciate it if you kept an eye out. Let us know if any surprises are coming our way. Particularly if it’s in the form of a small woman. Aye?”

“Eyes open, mouths closed,” Archangel said. Immediately the chatter stopped and the operation began.

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.

Now in Paperback: Grizzly/Wolf by Harley Wylde #mcromance #romanticsuspense @HarleyW_Writer

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Grizzly — The Beginning (Devil’s Fury MC 8)

May — Everyone else sees a rough biker from the wrong side of town, but there’s no one I’d rather be with. When I’m attacked by the town’s golden boy, I see the Grizzly his club has named him for. I don’t care that people whisper when we walk past. I love him, and I know I’ll keep loving him until the day I die.

Grizzly — May deserves the best life can offer — and a respectable guy. There’s blood on my hands. I keep her at arm’s length, but there’s only one thing I want more than my club, more than my next breath — and that’s May.

Wolf (Devil’s Fury MC 9)

Glory -– When I heard Devil’s Fury was running an underground clinic for women like me I knew I had to be a part of it. What I didn’t count on was falling for an alpha biker with a heart of gold, or turning to mush every time he holds my daughter. I won’t let a killer stand in the way of my happily-ever-after.

Wolf — When my ex left I should have been broken-hearted, but one look at the angel who walks into Church and I know Glory’s meant to be mine, and so is her adorable little girl. I know Glory can do better. I came back from the war broken. But I always get what I want, and I want Glory. I know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe, even if it means letting Glory see the darkness inside me.

WARNING: Grizzly and Wolf’s stories are both part of the Devil’s Fury MC series and contains some violence, bad language, sensitive issues, and adult situations. Guaranteed happily-ever-after, a baby who will steal your heart, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

Get the paperback at Amazon

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde

Grizzly — Summer, 1982

I ran my hand over my cut, proud as hell that I’d earned my patch. As the newest member of the Devil’s Fury MC, I should have been at the clubhouse enjoying the party. Instead, I found myself hiding in the shadows by the pond on the outskirts of town. If anyone owned the property, they were long gone. The land had grown wild with weeds. The tall grass around the pond blocked it from view of anyone driving past.

I heard May giggle and a splash. Jealousy ate at me. I had no right to feel any sort of emotion about her at all. She wasn’t mine. Never would be. May was a good girl. Sweet. Angelic. Not at all for the likes of me. I’d noticed her in school, even though I’d kept my distance. Until I’d discovered she liked to come swim here. The first time I saw her in her two-piece swimsuit, I’d had to pick my tongue up off the ground. Who’d have thought little May had curves like that? She’d only been fifteen at the time, and I’d had no business looking.

“Stop it, Mike.” I heard another splash. “I said no!”

My heartrate kicked up and I crept closer, quietly shifting the tall weeds aside for a better look. The dumbass jock she’d come with seemed to be copping a feel. The way May squirmed and shoved at him, I knew she wasn’t just playing around. When she’d told him to stop, she’d meant it. Dickweed didn’t seem to understand.

When he tried to work his hand down into her swimsuit bottoms, I knew I had to do something. I wasn’t about to let him molest her while I stood idly by. Even if I did belong to a club that didn’t exactly walk on the right side of the law, there were lines I’d never cross. Hurting a woman was one of those.

I stepped out of my hiding spot. The moment May saw me, hope sparked in her eyes. Yeah, I wasn’t walking away. Not without making sure she was safe.

“I think she said no.”

He turned to look at me, a sneer on his lips as he eyed my cut. I knew all about Mike Malone. Star forward for the basketball team. Just the sort of guy May should be with, if he weren’t such a douche.

“Let her go, Malone.”

“Or what?” he asked.

“Or I’ll make you, and then you’ll have to run crying home to your mommy. She said she wasn’t interested, but you must have too much wax in your ears.” I folded my arms. “Or maybe you got hit in the head with one too many basketballs. You should catch those passes with your hands and not your face.”

I honestly had no idea how well he played, or what the fuck his position on the team even did. I’d never been into basketball, and I sure as hell hadn’t been to any of the games at school.

He backed away from May and made his way toward me. He slogged through the water and onto the shore, slicking his hair back from his face. We were nearly the same height, but I had a bit of muscle on him. And I knew how to fight. Prissy boy here didn’t stand a chance.

“You lay one finger on me and my parents will sue your ass.”

“And what exactly do you think they’ll get? I don’t have a house. My bike is a piece of shit. Even I can admit that, but one day it won’t be. I don’t have a damn thing you’d want, Malone.” I held my hand out to May. “Come on, angel. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

May hurried out of the pond and grabbed her towel, wrapping it around her. She came straight for me, giving the jock a wide berth. Couldn’t blame her. He didn’t seem like the type to lose gracefully. Now that he’d decided May should give him what he wanted, he wouldn’t back down. Not until he was forced to.

If he kept bothering her, I’d have to pay him a special visit. Make sure he got the message loud and clear. May wasn’t for him to play with. Or anyone else for that matter.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

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

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

New at Changeling Press: Alpha Vol. 1 by Reva Harte #shifters #paranormalromance @HarteTreva

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Four blazing hot stories of werewolf packs in the wilds of West Texas…

Walk Away: When Dek left her, Leila vowed never to fall for an animal like him again. But now he’s back, and resistance seems futile. Dek needs her, and he’s not about to take no for an answer.

Stay: Lowell doesn’t think any woman can accept the kind of guy he’s turned out to be, but Lin knows she’s more than ready to be his mate.

Home: Rome no longer fits with pack politics. Just his luck both Grey and Mia are determined to bring him back.

Hunted Down: Dunne wants his Alpha as much as Hunt wants him, but he can’t live with Hunt’s latest fetish… at least not until Hunt convinces him otherwise.

Get the paperback at Amazon

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2021 Treva Harte
Excerpt from Walk Away

Dek wasn’t normal. Wasn’t safe.

The first time she’d met him, she’d known. Of course, he had made it pretty obvious when he tried to kill her stepfather…

* * *

“I tell you, I saw the little b — booger turn. I’m bleeding from where he attacked me. Damn it, he’s dangerous.” Rod’s red face turned even redder in the silence that met his words. He swung toward her. “You were there! Tell the cop! Go on, girl.”

She swallowed. She hated his sweaty face. Hated the piggish eyes that glared at her right now. They might be under the same roof, but that didn’t mean she had to like pretending he was kin. She didn’t have to enjoy living with him, listening to him… obeying him.

“Damn you, girl, if you don’t talk up, I swear –”

She took a half-step back. The policeman put his hand on her shoulder, and she tried not to flinch. The eyes under the police cap were all right. They were searching her up and down, but they were human eyes. They might even be kind. She took a deep breath.

“Tell me what you saw… Leila, is it? Don’t be afraid.”

“Yes, sir. That’s me. I-I didn’t see anything. I mean, I came in and I saw Rod — I mean, my stepdad — screaming and swearing and bleeding. I didn’t really look at anything else.”

“How the hell did you miss what was going on, you stupid sl — child?” Fascinated, Leila watched his red face slowly turn purple. She waited for her stepfather’s head to blow off. Instead he whirled and pointed at the one person left in the room who hadn’t said anything. “I tell you, he went for my throat. You think something human went for me like this?”

Leila stared at the bleeding wounds.

“He tried to jump me.” Dek’s voice was whisper-soft. “Rape me. I fought back. What else could I do?”

“You see any of that, Leila?” The policeman sounded safe. But he wasn’t. No one was safe. Leila knew that.

What should she do?

“I… No, sir.” Her voice firmed. “Nothing.”

“Your stepdad ever try to hurt you the way the boy here said?” The cop’s voice hardened.

Jesus. He was smarter than she’d expected. Or else Rod had what he was like written all over him. Written so clear that anyone could see. Except Mom. Mom always believed Rod.

Leila gazed down.

“No, sir.” But she let her voice get more Southern and liquid. Let her lips tremble as she said that final word. She knew what it sounded like with that little catch over the syllable.

The cop’s breath audibly hissed.

“I’m the one who is bleeding here!” Rod’s voice rose. “Arrest that mongrel bastard.”

“I’ll have the authorities take him back to the County. I’m taking you in for questioning.” The policeman didn’t take his eyes off Rod. “Step outside for a minute with me, Mr. Voss.”

“What the f — hell!”

His voice faded a little as he got outside. Leila shut her eyes, tried to pretend she was alone and everything was all right. She’d made a decision, and now she’d have to live with whatever happened next.

“I owe you.” Dek’s whispery voice cut through her self-protective shell, and she opened her eyes.

She stared at the slight teenager who was maybe a year or two older than her. Her stepdad had brought home a stray kid to abuse and bully, like he did now and then. But this time he’d brought home something that took him on. Who would have thought it?

“You don’t owe me anything, Big Bad Wolf.” Leila crossed her arms. “It was my pleasure. Wish you’d ripped his liver out.”

“I wish I had, too.” Dek smiled, all pointy, big teeth.

“But for now you’d better run out the back door while Rod is keeping the cop busy out there.”

“I already had that in mind.” He hesitated. “What about you?”

“What about me? You’re not concerned about me.”

“You’re wrong. I am.”

“Well, you can’t do anything for me, so you might as well do something for yourself. Go on.”

“Come with me.”

“What?” Leila blinked. She’d planned to escape the second she hit eighteen and no one could drag her back. Three months, one week, and four days from now.

“You heard me.”

Or she could go now. Even if he did get out of trouble with the police, Rod wouldn’t be chasing this particular stray.

“That’s a hell of a big decision to make. Why should I trust you?”

Dek flashed that big smile, looking as trustworthy as any wolf in sheep’s clothing. He didn’t look like just a kid. Why did that make the back of her neck tingle with nerves and… and something else? He was dangerous. But dangerous wasn’t all bad, was it? “You can find out why on the way out of here, kid.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

Forge (Reckless Kings MC) by Harley Wylde #giveaway #mcromance #agegap #contemporaryromance @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

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Whisper — Abducted at a young age, I’d learned to live with the brutal man who’d kidnapped me. Quick with his fists, he made sure I knew to keep quiet and do as I was told. Until nearly a decade later. When Forge came to confront the man I’m forced to call “Dad,” I knew it was my one chance. Saying my true name for the first time was both thrilling and scary. Going to live with a bunch of bikers was even more so. But I found out soon enough there wasn’t anything Forge wouldn’t do for me. I might have had a crush on him. Just a bit. Then my world imploded once more, and I ran. Now he’s back, and I’m terrified and excited all at once.

Forge — One of the boys who attacked Whisper is out on parole, and I know she’s clueless. I only intended to make sure she was all right. How the hell I ended up claiming her son as my own, then marrying her, is beyond me. Can’t say I’m too broken up about it. Whisper is all grown up, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want her.

With her attacker’s whereabouts unknown, and my club pissed at me, there’s a lot on my plate. But I have to say, bringing Whisper and little Jacob home with me had to be the best idea I ever had. Now that they’re mine, I’ll do anything to hold onto them.

WARNING: Forge is part of the Reckless Kings MC series. While it can be read as a stand-alone, you may enjoy the series more when read in order. The story contains violence, bad language, and adult situations, as well as darker content some may find difficult to read.

Available today at Changeling Press (Save 15%!)

Preorder for November 26th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde

“Dad! I’m going to be late. Would you hurry the hell up?” I yelled across the house.

“Where’s the fucking fire?” he demanded, stomping into the room in jeans with a blue button-down. He’d put his cut on over it. It was the closest he’d ever get to dressing up and I smiled, thinking he looked nice.

“The fire is called graduation. I need to be there in fifteen minutes or I can’t walk. You’re the one who made a big deal about me attending the local high school and having a normal life. Guess what? Normal kids walk across the stage and get a diploma, or so I’ve been told.”

“You driving there?” he asked.

“No.” I rubbed the toe of my boot on the floor. “I’m getting a ride from a friend.”

He froze, his jaw tensing and his eyes narrowing. “Friend? Whisper Evans, I know damn well your friends don’t come here to pick you up. Who the hell do you think you’re riding with?”

“Tommy Aikens asked to drive me to graduation and to the field party after. He’s meeting me at the gate in five minutes. I thought you could give me a ride up there.”

He folded his arms and glowered. Brick, otherwise known as Hank Evans, and my adopted father, got that stubborn look in his eyes I knew didn’t bode well for me. The day he’d brought me home with him, I’d not known what to expect. I’d once asked what happened to John Gillis, and he’d told me the man had been taken care of. I’d not asked again. Something told me they hadn’t handed him over to the police.

After I’d come to live with Brick, it had taken us a week to settle into a routine and get to know one another. Now it felt like I’d been his daughter all my life. I couldn’t imagine anyone I’d rather have for a dad. He’d been amazing, and he didn’t even give me shit about my crush on Forge.

I fingered the necklace I never took off. It had started as a piece of his artwork but had broken off. I’d commented on how pretty it was, so he’d smoothed out the edges, drilled a hole through it, and put it on a chain for me. Sadly, the big guy had only ever seen me as a child, and probably always would.

“Come on, Dad! I’m leaving for college in three days. Let me have a little fun tonight.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. But don’t come home pregnant or I’ll have to kill a motherfucker.”

I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight. “Thanks, Dad. I promise I won’t stay out too late.”

“Come on. I’ll drop you at the gate and then ride out with the others. You wait inside the fence. You hear me? Lyle is on duty, and he’ll let you out when your friend gets here.”

I rolled my eyes. “We really are just friends, Dad. You know I don’t date. Never have, don’t plan to start now.”

Well, not entirely true. If a certain foxy older man ever looked at me as more than a kid, then I’d jump at the chance to date. Forge had saved me the day he’d come to meet with John Gillis, and I’d had a bit of hero worship going on. Then I’d started spending time with him and fell head over heels. No boy could ever measure up.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

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

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

Enter for a chance to win a

Harley Wylde sticker pack or button pack!

Take You There by Willa Okati #mpreg #paranormalromance @Willa_Okati

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Thoughtful, quiet, and just a wee bit on the dryly sarcastic side, Ethan teaches music at the university in Second Chance. With barely enough time to breathe between hysterical students and faculty shenanigans, he’s not looking for Mr. Right — just Mr. Right Now — and only when the moment calls for it. The beautiful man who calls himself “Blue” in a quick, dirty alley encounter should have satisfied him. But now Ethan can’t get Blue out of his mind, and can’t seem to stop looking for him.

Carter –”Blue” when he wants to stay anonymous — wears his scars on the inside, but they’re deep and still bleeding. He doesn’t venture far outside his antique & pawn shop unless he’s desperate for someone to touch and hold him and make him feel good for a little while. He promised himself he would never want more again. The smoldering musician who caught his eye, and what they did in the alley, should have been enough. That should have been the end of it.

It wasn’t. It isn’t. Their encounter left him pregnant, and he’s been frozen since then, not knowing how to break free of his shell or what he should do. Until Ethan finds him — and then, everything changes. Again.

Author’s Note: Also featuring Oscar, everybody’s favorite sarcastic best friend. We all need an Oscar in our lives.

Save 15% at Changeling Press

Or Preorder for November 19th at Retailers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Willa Okati

Was there a place like this in Second Chance?

Of course there was. Carter’s lips curved wryly around the rim of the highball glass he held to his lips. There was always a place like this no matter where you went. It just depended on whether who you asked knew what you wanted. And if you wanted a bar that didn’t serve chicken wings but did pour good beer and better tequila and top-shelf vodka, you wanted the bar called Speakeasy, just off Main Street. You could only get in through the back door and only if you knew where and how to knock, but once you did…

It wasn’t a place where everyone knew your name, but for most people there, that wasn’t even close to the point and sometimes —

Carter kept to himself when he could, lived silently and solitary, and he’d chosen that kind of life on purpose. It was better that way. Safer. He could watch his twelve and his six, and he could walk away from anything before it overwhelmed him. But sometimes —

Sometimes, he needed this.

Tucked quietly and carefully in one corner of the room, he kept the rim of a glass of tequila at his mouth, but only for show; he’d already sipped his way through two shots. Enough to work the tension out of his knotted muscles, but not so much that he’d do something he’d regret in the morning. Or if he did, to know it’d been worth it.

Carter’s hand spasmed around his glass, remembering it all too keenly, and knew he’d keep remembering until —

He should have turned the radio at his antique-slash-junk shop workbench off as soon as the first broadcast about the quarry disaster came through, but it’d caught him before he could switch the app off and he’d been lost. Drowning in it. He’d spent the day ignoring a workbench full of things that needed repairing, fixated on the steady voice of the broadcaster droning on and on and on with the lists of missing, injured, dead. On and on and on. Heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak, and he’d felt them all. Even now he could feel the echoes in his chest, cracking with each one —

He knew better.

Carter rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes. He’d always been like that, ever since he was a kid. Too sensitive, even if he’s probably going to be an Omega, they’d said. Strange, even for someone with — you know — his kind of bloodline, and everyone knows how they are.

So.

He’d taken that to heart too. He’d learned how to turn himself off — but too well. Even if he hadn’t intended it, he’d gone too far in the other direction. Unless he was as careful as careful could be and didn’t slip up as he had with the radio, it took him so long to warm up to people and let them in that it turned them off, made them look at him oddly and give him a wide berth.

What’d happened today at the quarry wasn’t about him. Carter knew that.

But if he ever wanted to sleep again, he needed this.

Carter tilted his head back and gulped, letting the whole shot burn its way down his throat. He came up breathless, but — better. Much better, even if it left him gasping and with his heart pounding. He lightly thumped the heel of his shoe on wooden floorboards worn smooth from years of others doing the same. The owner, who set the playlists every night, had a sense of occasion. No wailing jazz or mournful blues tonight. Just hard, driving beats that made a man want to shout, stomp his boots, pump his fists to the sky.

To dance, and —

To erase everything except feeling good for a little while. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Willa Okati (AKA Will) 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 and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will’s definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he — not she anymore — is a lot less quiet these days.