Seducing Destiny/Dark Kisses Duet by Anne Kane #ActionAdventure #PNR #shifters #werewolves @annekane

Seducing Destiny/Dark Kisses Duet (Northern Rockies Pack 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

 

Seducing Destiny: Jack, the alpha of the North Rockies pack, knows Destiny needs some time to come to grips with her werewolf heritage before he springs the whole mated for life thing on her, but when a band of rogue werewolves move into the area, Jack can’t afford to have his attention divided. It’s time to convince Destiny she belongs in his pack — and in his bed.

Dark Kisses: Kidnapped and dumped in unfamiliar territory, Katie has no idea where she is or why the geriatric old fool chose the Northern Rockies Pack territory to dump her, bound hand and foot. The fact that she’s just come into heat doesn’t help matters either. When Jeff finds her, his mere presence sends flames of liquid lust sizzling through her veins. Can she resist the dark wolf, or will she succumb to his wildly sexy dark kisses?

 

Praise for Seducing Destiny “I liked this story a lot…very hot!”

— Janie Esparza, The Romance Studio

“I loved how chocolate plays into this storyline. Ms. Kane leaves no doubt in the reader’s mind that sex and chocolate are the perfect combination.”

4.5 Ribbons! — Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies

 

Praise for Dark Kisses 


Paranormal Erotic Romance Category
“An enjoyable read with an interesting cast of characters.”

4 Diamonds! — Starla Kaye, Got Erotic Romance?

 

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for November 1st at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Anne Kane
Excerpt from Seducing Destiny

Destiny stared in dismay at the box in the middle of her kitchen table. Her stomach lurched, a ball of anxiety settling in the very middle of it. Gold gilt covered the small box, giving it an exotic look. An artfully tied crimson bow surrounded by curls of white lace sat cheerfully atop it, adding to the air of decadent luxury.

She knew who’d put it there, and she knew why. Jack. The Alpha of the Northern Rockies werewolf pack. The man who made her knees feel weak whenever she glimpsed him walking down the main street, or lounging at a local coffee shop. The man who’d made it plain that he intended to be her mate. The absolute last man on the face of the planet that she intended to get serious about.

No point in putting this off. Her sensitive nose could smell Jack all over the damn box. She caught the trailing lace between a thumb and forefinger and gently undid the bow, dropping the cheerful piece of ribbon on the table. Taking a deep breath, she plucked the lid off.

Her breath caught in her throat. An exquisitely detailed chocolate wolf nestled in a cushion of crushed white velvet. Every detail from the tip of its muzzle to the dominant curve of its tail was perfect. Jack had reproduced himself exactly. She knew if she turned the little wolf over, she’d find a jagged scar running along its left flank.

“I suppose I could always bite your head off.” Destiny felt a wry smile tug the sides of her mouth. She jumped, startled by the sound of a loud knock on her front door. Quentin must have gotten out of court early. She hadn’t expected him to show up for at least another four hours. Sweeping the ribbon up off the table, she stuffed the box and ribbon into a drawer and slammed it shut.

“Come on in, the door’s open.” She hoped Quentin couldn’t hear the guilt in her voice. Not that she had anything to feel guilty about. Damn Jack and his fancy little chocolate creatures! She smoothed her hands down her skirt and tried to look calm.

“I know, I was just being polite.” Jack strode into the room, a crooked smile on his rugged face. “You’re not usually this happy to see me.”

“I thought you were my boyfriend.” She looked pointedly behind him as if she expected Quentin to materialize any second. “I’m expecting him to drop in after court today.”

Jack ignored her reference to Quentin and gave her a toothy grin. “I intend to be a lot more than a friend, and it’s been a long time since anyone referred to me as a boy.” He advanced, his eyes sparkling. “Glad to hear you finally think of me that way, though, because unless my nose is deceiving me, you’re going to be begging for my attention shortly.”

Destiny felt a surge of color flood her cheeks and she turned away so he couldn’t see her face. It mortified her to know he could smell her eagerness. “You wish.” Now that was lame!

He took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him, his touch surprisingly gentle for such a large man. “No, I know. The full moon is on Saturday. You haven’t slept with that wimpy boyfriend of yours, and you’re not going to if you want him to live to see Monday. A human male can’t begin to satisfy your needs. I wouldn’t have to lift a paw; you’d tear him apart yourself. Your frustration level is about to escalate to hellish proportions.” A devilishly wicked smile curved the corner of his mouth. “Fortunately, I can help you deal with that.”

 

More from Anne at Changeling Press …

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

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

Website: http://www.annekane.com/

Blog: http://annekane.wordpress.com/

 

Healing Fire by B.A. Tortuga #ActionAdventure #PNR #LGBT #GayRomance @batortuga

Healing Fire (Reclamation 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Lee is just the transporter for the broken werewolves his team rescues from the Brotherhood. His latest pick-up goes badly when one wolf bolts, and his van is shot at, making it tough for him to keep it together. He’s got sick and badly injured wolves to care for until someone else comes to get them, though, so he heads for his cabin in the woods, knowing he has to keep his charges safe.

Drew has been in captivity a long time, helping keep his friends alive by giving of his own healing energy. Lee is like a whole new world for him, because Lee’s life force bolsters his, and Drew knows he’s found the other half of his soul. Now he has to learn he can’t save everyone if he wants to stay with Lee. Can they find a way to do what they must and still love each other?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for November 1st at retailers

   

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019

Changing trucks made Lee a little nuts.

One of the wolves bolted at the first vehicle change, and he knew he should have gone after, but the other five had a rendezvous with one of Abby’s contacts, and he had to get them to the, well, not church on time.

That idea made him laugh out loud.

They were getting worse, and he was beginning to worry he wasn’t going to be saving many more.

The last one in the first truck was so skinny, so exhausted he was barely breathing. The run had taken it out of him. Lee lifted him, needing to get him moved. “Come on, buddy. We have to keep moving, okay?”

Something made him frown, a whiff of gunpowder on the air, and he tossed the wolf in the cab of the new truck, heading off and leaving the empty truck behind. It was registered to someone else, just a piece of shit to move bodies with.

This truck was his.

He knew it backward and forward, how fast it could go, how it could take a turn.

The wolf whined gently, and Lee nodded. “I know, buddy. I’ll come back and look for him once you guys are safe. He seemed strong. They’ll be chasing us, not him. I’m sorry.”

He floored it, heading up into the mountains, pushing it. He couldn’t go home, but he could go to the cabin. It was safe, secure, warm, and well supplied.

Defensible. “We’ll get you guys safe until the other team can come. I swear it.”

Poor babies. So skinny. So tired. This shit pissed him off. There was always someone out there willing to exploit, whether it was humans or animals or shifters like them. He hated it.

What he did wasn’t much, but it was something. He could get these guys somewhere safe, somewhere they could heal or die, whichever they needed to. At least they would be free. Usually the ones he picked up were men, but more and more often they were leading out wolves. He had no idea if this meant they were weaker, stronger, just different. It didn’t matter. They were free.

The wolf next to him wiggled over enough to put a dry nose against his hand, a soft, grunting sigh sounding. Yeah, he got it. This was exhausting. “Rest, man. I’ll have food for you when we stop.” Good food, not the kibble-like crap they’d been fed at the Brotherhood.

He thought he heard the heavy tail wag, and that made him smile. “Right. Sometimes that’s what you need. I have milk. I have hamburger. I have chicken. Good stuff. There’s even an elk roast in the freezer.”

A sharp whine sounded when he said elk. Yeah. That was the reddest, gamiest meat. It would have the most nutritional value.

“We’ll start with the milk and defrost the elk, then. You hold on, buddy, and I’ll help you.”

That tail thumped again, and he would swear the mangy coat looked better, fuller. Trick of the light, he was sure.

“The cabin is remote, but it’s warm and safe. We’ll hide out there for a while, let you guys heal.”

That nose was colder now when it brushed him, and those teeth grazed his wrist when he reached out to stroke the wolf’s ears. A thank you.

“Oh, you are special, aren’t you? You wait, you’ll be okay. Soon you’ll be strong.”

Panting, the wolf closed his eyes, then the breathing evened out, and Lee felt alone again. That was okay. He was used to it.

He kept looking over, though, because he needed to see that skinny chest rising and falling.

It was important to keep them all alive, but this guy really spoke to him. Something about the way the wolf responded told him the spirit was willing.

 

More from B.A. at Changeling Press …

Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy’s Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds and her beloved wife, texting her sisters, and eating Mexican food. When she’s not doing that, she’s writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA’s personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot, her best friend, Sean Michael, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.

Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting GLBT romance, to fiery manages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head.

Website: http://www.batortuga.com/

Blog: http://caferisque.blogspot.com/

 

 

Bohannon by Marteeka Karland and an interview with the author! #MCromance #bikers #NewAdult #ActionAdventure @MarteekaKarland

Everyone give a warm welcome to author Marteeka Karland!

Marteeka is joining us today for a quick interview and to tell us about her latest Changeling Press release — Bohannon! But before we move on to the delicious MC Romance she has for us, let’s find out a little more about the author.

 

Has writing always been part of your life or did you just fall into it?

I started writing when I was in the 3rd grade. A Halloween story we were told to write as a fun project in our Reading class. My teacher loved it and while everyone else wrote like a paragraph, I wrote a while page front and back. I never stopped. It just took another thirty years for me to finish my first book. I’ve been published now for exactly sixteen years.

If you could do it all over again, would you change anything?

Definitely. More things than I can say. I think writing is like anything else in life. It’s a lesson in successes and failures, most of which can’t be predicted. I’ve had my share of both. The only thing I can say with certain is I’ve managed to surround myself with incredible writers along the journey. Some of which are so very willing to help in everything from proofreading to plot grid construction help, to marketing, to just being a shoulder to cry one when things go horribly wrong and that new release sells 10 copies. 🙂

What different genres have you written over the years and do you have a favorite?

That’s a tough one. Probably Science Fiction Romance. I love the idea of aliens in general. It’s even better if they’re the hard-bodied sexy kind who appreciate their women. 🙂 With science fiction, there are always rules to follow (the science part) but there are limitless possibles with what you can do with it. I’m hoping to make it back to science fiction and paranormal one day.

What’s your favorite type of hero to write?

I like the strong Alpha type. But I also like him to fall hard for his woman. He must be super protective and helpless in the face of her displeasure or, God forbid, her tears. I especially like it when he fights his attraction to her. At least for a while. I mean, it just makes his surrender that much sweeter.

Is there a common theme or trope that tends to carry through your various books? Or is there one you enjoy writing more than others?

p style=”text-align: justify;”>Soldiers. I LOVE soldiers. Military. There is nothing hotter than a take-charge guy in uniform. (In books. Those real-life types tend to be major assholes.) Fortunately, I’m a woman. I make them Alpha without being complete assholes to their women. Everyone else is on their own. 🙂 I like to write heroines who need some kind of rescue but are still fighting to make a place for themselves. I like for her to need her man’s help, but to prove to him she can survive without it. Oxymoron?? maybe. But it’s MY imagination! lol

As to other things in my writing, you may notice that the main characters in my books all drive some kind of Ford vehicle. That’s by design. 😀

Can you tell us about your current series? Do you have a set number of them planned?

Bones MC is the series. I’ve currently got three books complete (Cain, Bohannon, and Sword) with a fourth in the works (Viper.) As to how many I have planned, I suppose that depends on how well they are received. As long as readers are enjoying them, I’ll keep writing them. 🙂

 

Thank you, Marteeka, for joining us today! And now… I’d like to introduce you to her latest book — Bohannon!

 

Bohannon (Bones MC 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland

Luna: Never in a million years did I think I’d meet up with my childhood hero like this. Beaten down and scared out of my mind, my heart dropped when I realized who had me. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, but Gage Bohannon the man was even harder to resist than the ridiculous fantasy I’d held in my mind.

Bohannon: I’ve never kept a woman who don’t want to be kept. But I’ve made more than one good girl turn rogue. If I had any decency in me at all, I’d have locked her in my room and left her alone. Instead, I’ll take whatever she wants to give me and coax a few things she doesn’t.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for October 25th at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Marteeka Karland

Gage Bohannon swept the area for more of the unwelcomed club in Bones territory. The local club had gotten hit first, but Bones had finished all of them. By his reckoning, any club selling drugs in their territory deserved whatever they got. Bones was many things, but they weren’t drug dealers, pimps, or a distributor of firearms. They weren’t law-abiding citizens — as evidenced by the slaughter tonight — but they weren’t scum of the earth either.

“One alive in the truck,” Deadeye’s voice came through the earpiece connected to his radio. “Female. Her hands are still on the steering wheel, which is why I left her alive. There is a gun in the vehicle with her. Along with the hand holding it. Orders?”

“Hold. If she moves her hands or in any way attempts to get that gun, shoot her.”

“Copy.” He hated giving Deadeye an order to kill a woman, but he wasn’t compromising anyone’s safety. They’d started this. They’d finish it.

“Keep your hands on that fucking steering wheel,” he bit out. “Don’t fucking test me or the sniper on you will kill you before I ever give the order.” The girl whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut but otherwise didn’t move. “Are you armed?”

She took a deep breath, but didn’t let go of the wheel or open her eyes. “There’s a gun on the floor around my feet somewhere, but that’s it. And it wasn’t mine. I think the owner left his hand with the gun.”

“Good,” he said. “You told the truth about that weapon. Are there any others? Knives? Anything?”

“No, sir.” Her voice wavered in her fear. Again, that was good. She understood the danger she was in.

“What club do you represent? You don’t have colors of any kind. Are you a member? A chaser? An ole lady?” Bohannon had a funny feeling at the nape of his neck. A prickly sensation he knew never to ignore. He didn’t think there was danger or his brothers would have known it. It was the girl. Something about her…

“My brother owes Scars and Bars money for drugs. I’m here in his stead. My service for his life.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not with them in any way, nor do I want to be. I just want to get out of this alive so I can tell my brother to go to hell.” Fear was making her brave. It surprised Bohannon how much he liked that. It made him want to smile when the circumstances didn’t exactly call for it.

“Keep your hands on the wheel until I open the door. I want you to step out. Keep your hands up and open. Keep it slow. Do you understand?”

“I’m scared, not stupid,” she snapped, then immediately winced. “Sorry.”

Bohannon opened the door to the truck, his gun firmly aimed at her head. If she so much as twitched, he’d kill her himself, saving Deadeye the grief. The girl moved carefully, as he’d instructed. Deliberately. She knew she was in danger. Knew not to fuck with them. That knowledge would make life easier on all of them. The overhead light on the old Ford was long out so there wasn’t much of her features he could see.

She uncurled her fingers from the steering wheel slowly, keeping her hands open and at the same level. One leg slid out to place her foot on the ground. Then the other. All the while she never once looked at him. Fear was etched in every move she made. Sweat ran down her arms in streams as if she’d just stepped from a shower.

Once outside, she stood still, hands still in front of her, fingers splayed wide. Bohannon shut the door with a sharp shove of his hand.

“Turn around. Hands on the truck.”

She did as told, not hesitating in the least. Her willingness to comply with orders surprised Bohannon. Most mules were just as stubborn as their namesakes. This one seemed more resigned than anything else. She acted as if she had nothing to hide. Maybe she didn’t. Or, more likely, she hoped to use her wiles to get herself out of a jam.

As he carefully patted her down for weapons, Bohannon couldn’t help but notice her as a woman. She was slight in stature; barely over five feet and svelte of frame. He tried to be as non-personal as possible, but it was difficult when the swell of her breast was just above his palm as he checked her belly for weapons against her skin. His hands were big, and she was so tiny his palm nearly spanned her from side to side yet the curve of her ass was fleshy and rounded, made to tempt a man.

But he was Gage Bohannon. His club name had been Slayer before his brothers sought to mellow him after that stupid TV show became popular, calling him by his last name because the lead character’s name was the same. He might enjoy women, might be tempted to do wicked things with the forbidden female from time to time, but he was always in complete control of himself. Now was no exception. She was tempting, true enough. But he had a job to do.

Except his cock had other ideas. Bohannon swore to himself, easily envisioning grinding his hardening erection against that savory ass. He could tell she was affected by his nearness. Either she wasn’t adept at staying in control or, more likely, she thought to tempt him with sex. If she did, he’d oblige her. Then take her to his president anyway.

“What are you going to do with me?” Her voice shook, her fear obvious, yet she stayed put, not turning or looking over her shoulder.

“Take you back to our president. We’ll discuss the events of the evening then decide what to do next.” Not that he needed to give her an explanation.

“Will you kill me?”

“Only if Cain orders it.”

She whimpered, her body trembling beneath his touch. She was truly scared, not trying to garner his attention. She hadn’t offered herself. Hadn’t made an overt move of aggression or seduction. So what was her game?

“What can I do to stay alive?”

Bohannon thought about that. What could she do? “Depends on what Cain decides. If you’re looking to convince someone of your innocence, it will be him. I warn you, though, he never goes easy on clubs doing business in our territory without permission. Anything he does to you will be to send a message to Scars and Bars.”

“I don’t mean anything to them. If he wants leverage on Scars and Bars he won’t get it with me. I’m only here to protect my brother.”

“Your fate is in Cain’s hands,” he said. “Accept it. And whatever you do, tell the truth. If you lie, he’ll know. You won’t get a second chance.”

She turned to look at him then. Just a movement of her head, her long midnight hair falling over the other shoulder. When those intensely dark eyes met his, glittering like onyx in the moonlight, Bohannon nearly doubled over as a punch of lust hit him low and mean. He couldn’t see her clearly, but there was something disturbing and familiar about her.

“You have to understand, I have nothing to do with the club. My brother owes them drug money. They used me to pay his debt by hauling their… product here.”

Bohannon fought off his instinct, which was to comfort and protect her. If ever a female needed protection it was this one. Such a small woman in the middle of a biker war? She was doomed from the beginning. Ruthlessly, he took her wrists and zip-tied them behind her back. “Answer any question Cain asks you truthfully and completely. That’s the best advice I can give you.”

“And if he doesn’t ask me anything? If he’s already decided?” Her eyes swam with unshed tears. Her skin glistened with sweat.

“Then he already has the answers he needs. I’ll tell him you cooperated in every way with us, assuming you continue to do so. If he decides you need to die, I can promise you’ll never know it’s coming, and it will be a clean, quick death.”

A little sob escaped before she could press her lips together tightly. She ducked her head, breaking her entrancing stare, but not before she got under Bohannon’s skin. Why did he feel like he knew her? Lord knew he’d never forget a woman like her, so he couldn’t have met her.

Everyone called him Bohannon, but his jacket proclaimed him Slayer because, of all his biker brothers, he had the most kills. He was the enforcer of the club. If something needed doing, he was the one who did it. That way, if the police caught him, they could trace nothing back to anyone else in the club. He’d take full responsibility and shift blame away from his brothers. The name had fit him more than any other, so he thought. This girl, however tested his belief in his job. Could he kill her if Cain ordered it?

“Promise me that if Cain orders you to kill me, you’ll at least look into helping my brother.”

“Can’t do that.”

“His name is Markus Newton. He’s not a bad man, just… self-absorbed.”

Bohannon lost his breath. Before he could stop himself, he snatched a penlight from his utility belt and shone it in the girl’s face. Markus Newton! A name from his past. Now here was a woman from his past. It had to be. But Markus was more than ten years this girl’s senior! Her older brother! That son of a bitch should be protecting her, not the other way around.

“Luna?” Her head snapped up, eyes squinting at the bright light. “Son of a bitch.” She tried to see past the light but, of course, she couldn’t. “Luna Martin?”

 

More from Marteeka at Changeling Press …

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

Want to see what’s up with Marteeka? Check out her website at www.marteekakarland.com or join her Yahoo! group at marteekakarland-subscribe@yahoogroups.com. Marteeka always welcomes e-mail from her readers. You can reach her at mkarland@gmail.com. Check out Marteeka’s blog here: marteekakarland.blogspot.com.

 

Hidden Oaks by Ana Raine #ActionAdventure #boxset #RomanceBooks #PNR #shifters #Gay #LGBT @changelingpress

Hidden Oaks (Hidden Oaks 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

The Secret of Hidden Oaks: While working on his Master’s degree in psychology, Carson is offered an internship at a private research hospital. But Harbor Oaks hides a dark secret. His patients are Changelings, shape shifters, being held against their will, and Carson soon discovers he’s really the subject of the scientist’s experiments. His only hope of escape is Tate, a shy, quiet doctor with an agenda all his own.

The Secret of Harbor Springs: Carson and his mate Tate team up with Gaven and Lily to escape Federal agents who are trying to bring them back to Hidden Oaks. Carson holds an unusual power over other Changelings — a power the Federal task force charged with rounding up Changelings will go to any ends to make their own.

Liberate: Carson and Tate have been running for months, trying to evade the JIA so they don’t end up lab specimens for the ruthless organization. With their future on the line, Carson realizes the most important part of his life will forever be his mate, Tate, but how can he trust a man who never tells him the whole truth?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or preorder for October 18th at retailers

   

 

Praise for The Secret of Hidden Oaks

“Ana has a pretty good imagination and can spin a wonderful story with it. It caught my attention from the start and kept my attention all the way to the end.”

— Lisa, MM Good Book Reviews

 

“If you like mysterious conspiracies and weird goings-on, if you enjoy reading about men who have a lot to hide and those who hunt them, and if you’re looking for a fun story with some dark secrets around shifters, then you will probably like this short story.”

— Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews

 

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Ana Raine
Excerpt from The Secret of Hidden Oaks

“They are not human,” Dr. Kline explained.

“You are delusional,” I said, taking a step away from Dr. Kline, but unable to stop looking at the young woman. I was sure my vision was playing tricks on me, because the young woman’s arms were gone and in their place were fur-covered legs. Her dress split down her back and as she howled in agony, I saw her entire body was quickly being covered in fur. Her screams were over soon.

Instead of looking at a young woman, I was staring at a dark feline. I thought it was a jaguar. “W-what…”

“All of the patients here are a danger to society and to themselves,” Dr. Kline explained, hitting the red button again so the lights went out, leaving only natural light. Before my eyes, the fur receded back into the jaguar’s body and flesh began to cover her legs and back.

“What are they?”

Dr. Kline smiled and pressed the color button before touching my shoulder lightly. “We call them Changelings.”

* * *

My hands were still shaking, my knees knocking against each other as I fidgeted in the chair in front of Dr. Kline’s desk. What was wrong with them? What was wrong with me? Surely, that was some sort of trick and that young woman really hadn’t transformed into a jaguar? All lies…

“Have you decided?” Dr. Kline asked softly, as he pushed the two boxes toward me.

Stay or run away? Both options were equally unappealing. The drug he wanted to give me that would erase my memory would probably only work as long as I didn’t have any triggers. How could I forget when there were animals everywhere to remind me?

A knock on the door made me twitch. I turned to see the heavy oak door being pushed open. I was afraid of who was going to enter, not sure if a patient was able to escape out of their crisis stabilization unit and was going to come charging at me. Maybe instead of erasing my memory, they were really just going to erase me.

“Ahh, Dr. Tate.” Dr. Kline stood up and went around the side of the desk. I leaned away from him and I was sure he saw, but he just pursed his lips together and didn’t remark. “This is Dr. Tate, Carson. He’s one of our leading doctors, although these days he spends more time in our research department.”

“Hello. This is the new intern, Carson, was it?”

His voice made my back tingle. I focused on the desk, knowing if I looked at Dr. Tate I probably wouldn’t fare well. His voice was smooth and confident, the exact kind of man I preferred.

The way he’d said my name was already enough for my stomach to begin pooling with heat. I couldn’t keep staring at the same lines in the oak desk. Slowly, I looked up at the new doctor.

My breath hitched. He was tall, towering over Dr. Kline, who already towered over me. He had soft blonde hair, several shades lighter than my dark brown. His blue eyes were clear and focused on me, his lips upturned in a marvelous smile. But his body is what really got me going. He wasn’t wearing a lab coat, but instead dark pants and a crisp blue sweater that exposed just enough of his creamy skin at the base of his neck.

I should’ve known looking at him would be dangerous.

“Please tell me you are planning on staying with us?” Dr. Tate asked softly, as he crossed the room to me and took my hand. My hand was rather small inside of his. I felt trapped.

My mind went blank. “I’ll stay.”

Dr. Tate’s jaw locked, but Dr. Kline was the one who clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Excellent.” He grabbed the contract out of the box and shoved a pen in my hand.

I tried to scan the document, but although Dr. Tate had released my hand, he was still standing dangerously close. I could feel his eyes on me, and wished he would undress me instead. Shuddering, I passed my movement off as a twitch and signed the contract.

Dr. Kline scooped up the contract and placed it in a folder in his filing cabinet.

“So… what exactly am I supposed to do?”

“Dr. Tate is going to be your mentor. When you go into the patients’ rooms, he will be there to make sure everything goes well.” Dr. Kline waved a hand at the handsome man standing beside me. I almost felt a sense of possessiveness emanating from Dr. Tate. “He is a scientist, now, as I said. You will have time enough to shadow one of our psychologists here so don’t worry about getting your necessary experience. But we have a… more pressing use for you.”

My chest tightened. What kind of use?

Dr. Kline seemed to have read my mind. “We would like you to teach them how to be human, in a manner of speaking.”

“How?”

“Simply by being, although I am sure you will come up with some techniques and hypothesis on your own. The most important thing you must remember is to never wear or carry anything red. Do you understand?”

I remembered the young woman convulsing on the floor. “Yes.”

“We would like to let the Changelings go back to society, but in order for that to happen, we need someone who has not been working with them to grasp what is different about them from humans. I expect you’ll keep a journal.”

“Of course.” They wanted me to document changes in behavior? This internship kept sounding stranger.

Dr. Kline stood up so I followed suit. He started to extend his hand toward me but then withdrew it on second thought. “Please come to me if you need anything.” He smiled at me and then gave Dr. Tate one experimental glance before going to his large bay window and turning his back to me.

“Come with me.” Dr. Tate nodded toward the door. Something about him was strangely protective. Just by standing near him I felt my fear about Hidden Oaks subsiding. God, I bet he was so good in bed.

Silently, I followed Dr. Tate, hesitating when we approached the elevator.

“Don’t worry,” he said kindly, “We’ll be going to the top floor where the lab is.”

“Why?” I managed to ask.

“My office is up there.” He grasped my wrist, pulling me onto the elevator with him. When he released me, I had to resist the urge to reach back out for him…

 

More from Ana at Changeling Press …

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

If you’d like to follow her, here is her blog site: http://anarainebooks.blogspot.com.

Bound by the Orb by Kate Steele #ActionAdventure #Futuristic #boxset #PNR #scifi

Bound by the Orb

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

The Orb of Atrios brought them together, but the rest is up to them. If they can face the challenge, two couples will find their way past uncertainty and tears to laughter, joy, and sensual nights filled with soul-shattering sizzle and everlasting love.

Chosen of the Orb: Huntress Lira Senn Var is strong, independent, and a far cry from the domestic type of woman who’s satisfied tending hearth and home. Still, she longs for a mate and children of her own. In Talrion Finn Mal she finds a kindred soul, but can this strong and sensual warrior accept Lira’s need to remain true to herself?

The Orb of Atrios: Swept into another dimension by the Orb, Lealah Redmond struggles to accept her new life as tezza to Darien Finn Mal. That Darien is confident, kind, and sexy as hell takes the sting out of an otherwise bizarre situation, but are the feelings Lea begins to experience her own, or those of the Orb?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order for October 11th at retailers

   

also available in paperback

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kate Steele
Excerpt from Chosen of the Orb

Having ridden the cool morning through, Galatin reined his horse in, glancing at the sky. The sun rose high and hot overhead. Sweat ran down his back, the trickle causing an involuntary shiver. Urging his horse forward, he guided him through a flower-bestrewn meadow.

Galatin smiled with pleasure at the sight of a wide, shallow band of clear water running with joyous abandon over a bed of polished stones. He dismounted, leading his horse forward, allowing him to drink. Divesting the stallion of packs, saddle, and bridle, Galatin gave him a gentle swat, urging him into the meadow where he settled to graze.

Hot and fatigued, ripe with the scent of horse and pungent, overheated male, Galatin stripped and stepped into the cool water. He scooped handfuls of the liquid upward, splashing it over his wide shoulders. The glistening liquid cascaded over his well-toned warrior’s body, caressing muscle, sinew, and taut, tanned skin. It trickled in cool meandering paths over each hard bulge and plane, dripping from his well-formed cock and full, low-hanging balls. Splashing a double handful over his head, he ran damp fingers through the silky strands of his dark, shoulder-length hair, scooping it back from his hawk-like face. Satisfied with his bath, he emerged, took up his rolled blanket, and spread it over the thick grass. He stretched out with a contented sigh to dry and bask in the sun.

Galatin drifted in a half doze as warmth seeped into every pore. The sun was a red haze behind his closed lids. A warm breeze set the tall grass whispering around him. The sound of a splash drew his attention. Instantly alert, he directed his gaze to the stream.

A young woman, nude as himself, emerged from the stream to stroll with unearthly grace in his direction. Her form fluidly morphed from untried virgin in the first budding season of womanhood to voluptuous earth mother, seasoned and sensual, filled with the promise of carnal pleasures.

Galatin knew her; he’d studied legends of the lusty Mother Goddess of Atrios. Of its own volition, his cock rose, thick and full.

Halting before him, she sank gracefully to her knees. She reached out, resting her hand over his heart. Their eyes locked. She held out her other hand to reveal a glistening rock, one that had been taken from the streambed. In a voice that echoed with pure power, she spoke.

“Earth.”

From far below, warmth seeped upward. Galatin found himself cradled as though the earth itself held him. Heat penetrated his being, flooding him with power as fine, electric vibrations ran through his skin.

“Air.”

The wind increased, blowing haphazardly until, gathered and directed, it began to concentrate and swirl around the rock held steadily in the woman’s hand. A tiny funnel formed, the infinite power of wind gathered in that small shape. It twisted and turned as it sculpted the stone, polishing it to a round, gleaming sphere.

“Fire.”

Galatin flinched, fearing flames would burst forth from some unknown source to consume them. The Goddess smiled. “Not that kind of fire, Galatin Dal Wri. Passion. The fire of men.”

 

More from Kate at Changeling Press …

Kate’s love of books started from the moment she read those fateful words: run, Spot, run! It took her awhile to discover that she didn’t have to just read and imagine, but that she could also write stories and so here she is writing romance and loving it. Like chocolate – her ultimate favorite food, with pizza running a close second – writing became addictive. Whether it’s paranormal, contemporary or science fiction about werewolves, otherworldly creatures or the average Joe, she can’t get enough.

As for the everyday details, Kate lives in a turn of the century house located in the midst of Indiana farm country, and is kept company by family, along with demanding dogs, contrary cats and a pair of occasionally sweet, and definitely noisy, lovebirds. When not writing, she reads, is an enthusiastic grower of iris, and a fanatic fan of Japanese manga and anime.

Website: http://www.katesteele.com

 

 

Master of Passion by Angela Knight #ActionAdventure #PNR #UrbanFantasy #AlternateUniverse

Master of Passion (Merlin's Legacy 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

 

After combat news cameraman Adam Parker covers a Times Square attack by blue-skinned aliens that costs hundreds of lives, the invaders try to kidnap him. Fortunately, the attempt is foiled by a sword-swinging Knight of the Round Table and his witch partner. But when the vampire knight removes his helmet, Adam realizes Sir Baldulf is the father who abandoned him and his mother when he was ten.

Ulf swears he and Opal Cassidy are Adam’s only hope of survival. Otherwise the aliens will keep coming after him. Furious, Adam wants nothing to do with either of them — especially after Opal uses her magic to force him to run from the aliens instead of doing his job.

Opal has been ordered to seduce Adam and transform him into a vampire. Still grieving for a previous partner after more than a decade, the witch wants nothing to do with the handsome, cynical mortal. But orders are orders, so seduction it is.

Despite Adam’s bitterness and her grief, the two discover they have red-hot sexual chemistry. As the stakes climb and passion turns to love, Opal and Adam realize that if they don’t take a chance on each other, humanity will pay the price.

 

Get it NOW at Changeling Press

or pre-order for October 4th at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Angela Knight

Warm, muscled arms wrapped around her waist, and a big body slid against her from behind, snuggling close. The scent of him made Opal’s heart skip in sheer joy.

“Joaquin?” She rolled over to face him, eyes widening. It was him. “Joaquin!”

His wide, white grin flashed in the dim light as he rose to one elbow above her. “Hello, love.”

She caught his handsome face in her hands. Treasuring the warmth of his skin between her palms, she fell into the love shining in the rich, velvet dark of his eyes. With a needy gasp, she pulled him into a ravenous kiss. He felt so solid and strong as she pressed against him, all long, lean muscle. Her world had become as hollow as a drum without him, empty with yearning. “Oh God, I’ve missed you,” she moaned against his mouth. “I’m so sorry I failed…”

“Opal, no one could have done more.” His long fingers stroked her red curls. There was such sadness in his gaze, her chest hurt. “And I know how much you miss me. I’ve missed you, too. But darling, it’s time you let me go.” He lowered his head until his forehead touched hers. “Because, my love, I’m gone.” He began to fade from her arms like mist in the morning sun.

“No!” She screamed, clutching for him, but her hands raked through empty air.

* * *

Opal came awake crying. She sat up and swung her legs out of bed, burying her face in her hands. “I should have Truebonded with you when I had the chance,” she groaned to the man who’d been dead more than a decade.

Her cell phone vibrated on the oak nightstand with Alys Hawkewood’s ringtone. The atonal thumping notes made Opal long for the noxious metallic brrrrriiiing of the twentieth century. She scooped up her phone. “Hello, Alys,” she said, wiping her face with the back of her free hand. “What did you See this time?”

There was a pause. “Are you all right? You sound a little choked.”

“I’m fine.” Briskly, she added, “So what fresh hell is it now?”

Alys snorted. “‘Fresh hell’ is right. You need to meet us at the Great Hall. Arthur and Morgana want to brief you on an assignment I Saw.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.” Not if the job was bad enough to trigger one of her friend’s visions.

“It’s not. And you’re not going to like it.”

Terrific. She forced a light tone. “Is it my turn to get captured by Fomos?” Which was what had happened to Alys the week before. From what she’d said, it had been ugly.

“No, someone else is in the bull’s-eye this time. And I’m afraid you’ll have your hands full keeping this one alive. He’s not going to want to cooperate.”

Merlin’s beard. “I’ll be right over.”

With a sigh, Opal reached for her magic and sent it rolling down her body. When the wave of sparks dispersed, she was dressed in black slacks, boots and an emerald silk blouse. Beat the hell out of whalebone and a bustle.

Boot heels clicking on polished red tile, Opal strode through the hacienda she’d built for Joaquin a hundred years before. She could have gated directly to the great hall, of course, but it was a nice night and she liked to walk whenever she could. Laziness was not a survival characteristic for Magekind agents.

The night was cool and pleasant, a quarter moon floating in the star-flecked Mageverse sky as she headed down the stone walkway to the cobblestone street. Avalon was at its most active at night when the vampires were out. The crowd was thick with agents kicking back between missions. Men and women strolled among fifteen centuries’ worth of architecture — everything from Roman villas to Frank Lloyd Wright. Stained-glass windows shone with rainbow light, giving Avalon a fairytale quality that prosaic mortal cities lacked.

Looking around at the laughing, chatting couples, Opal remembered the dream, and her heart ached. Eleven years ago she’d walked at Joaquin’s side like that, enjoying private jokes, arguing over mission strategies, anticipating a stolen hour or two in bed.

Now all she had was the job.

Ten minutes later, she reached the Great Hall that served as the Magekind’s headquarters. A massive gothic cathedral of a building, it towered against the night sky, huge stained-glass windows blazing into the night. Arched doors, each fifteen feet in height, swung silently wide at her approach, then closed behind her with a resonant thunk.

Time to find out just how bad this was going to be.

 

More from Angela at Changeling Press …

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight’s first book was written in pencil and illustrated in crayon; she was nine years old at the time. A few years later, she read The Wolf and the Dove and fell in love with romance. In addition to her fiction work, Angela’s publishing career includes a stint as a comic book writer and ten years as a newspaper reporter. Several of her stories have won South Carolina Press Association awards. Angela lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a detective with the Spartanburg PD.

 

Her Sexy Rescuer by Megan Slayer #Mafia #ActionAdventure #RomanceBooks #NewRelease @MeganSlayer @changelingpress

Her Sexy Rescuer (Jordan Brothers 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Vonn Jordan wants to wander. Why stay in one place when there’s a whole world to explore? A night clubbing lands him right in the middle of a deal to conduct human trafficking. His family doesn’t buy and sell humans, even beautiful ones. He’ll bust this ring wide open.

Then he sees her. Ripley. She’s sweet, soulful and alone. Can the man hellbent on drifting accept his wandering days are over? Or will she break his heart?

Publisher’s Warning: References to organized crime, abduction and sex trafficking that may be triggers for some readers.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for September 20th at retailers

   

 

 

cooltext315720864903307

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

Vonn stared out at the throng of dancers and sighed. The ice in his drink had melted. Christ, he was bored. A man only turned twenty-one once, and he refused to spend this token year in college. He also refused to spend it alone. Let his brother Jax do the college thing. He had other ideas. He’d party now and work later.

A blonde passed by and winked. She might be good for the evening, but she wasn’t his type.

“Vonn Jordan, just the asshole I wanted to see.” Larry Slater strode up to him. “I hear your family has a new venture.”

“We have lots of ventures,” Vonn said. Jesus. It wasn’t his job to keep up on what the family did and when. “Why?”

“I never would’ve thought your family would’ve gotten in on human trafficking.” Larry crooked his brow. “Is that right?”

What? Yes, the Jordans played fast and loose with the law. Yes, they tended to shoot and pay their way out of trouble. But human trafficking? He knew Dash better than that. Ever since Dash rescued his now-wife, Christy, from being pimped at the club, Dash made it his point to rescue others. He wouldn’t get into human trafficking.

“Well?”

“Where did you get this info?” He doubted it was from his brother.

“Channels,” Larry snapped.

“And what details are these channels giving you?” Vonn asked.

“Jesus. Stuff. Girls,” Larry said. “You’re buying and selling them to the highest bidder. Bondage shit, sexy toys, that sort of bullshit. Whatever the buyer wants to do with them.”

“I see.” What a nice answer. What a jackass. He had to talk to Dash. If his brother was involved in this — which he doubted — then they needed to stop. If they weren’t involved, then Dash needed to know the family name was being used. He’d also want to step in and stop the operation. He’d shut them the fuck down. No one deserved to be sold for anything.

“Well? I want in,” Larry said. “Girls can bring top dollar.”

Asshat. “I need to confer with the family. We’re rather picky about who we involve.”

“Tell your brother I would love to be involved. I’m in need of new, lucrative ventures.” Larry grinned, and his eyes narrowed. “Besides, you owe me.”

“I do?” He didn’t remember owing Larry anything.

“Yeah, you do. I got your ass into this club,” Larry said. “Without me, you’d be nothing on the social scene.”

He disagreed, but whatever. “I have to speak with my brother. I don’t run the family enterprises.” He never did and never wanted to. Dash would end up in a premature grave like their father if he wasn’t careful. He trusted his brother wasn’t doing something so shitty as human trafficking. It wasn’t possible.

“I expect to hear something.” Larry pointed at him. “I know where you live.”

So does everyone else. The Jordan family compound was practically a landmark in Shaker. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m watching.”

I’m sure. He nodded, then abandoned his drink on a nearby table. One of his two bodyguards followed him to the private overlook within the club. He could see everything and not be seen. He whipped out his phone. He needed to speak to Dash.

“Yes?” Dash asked when he answered the call. “You’ve been MIA. Care to tell me where you are?”

“In deep shit,” Vonn said. “I know where I am. I’m in Florida.”

“Funny. That’s a long way from Ohio State.”

“Whatever,” Vonn said. “I don’t need a lecture.”

“You’ll get one. I’ve got your credit card statement. If you run up one more bar tab, I’ll come to Florida and kick your ass.”

“I know. I went overboard. Jesus, Dash. This is important.” He leaned against the wall and lowered his voice. “Are you involved in human trafficking?”

“What the hell? No,” Dash said. “Christ.”

“You’re sure?”

“We concocted a bullshit story about selling girls to get Clint and Ronan’s girl free from a strip club. But I wouldn’t touch real trafficking. Christ. That’s barbaric,” Dash said.

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Your name is being used in connection with a trafficking ring. Larry Slater wants in,” Vonn said.

“If I were — which I’m not — the last person I’d involve would be Larry,” Dash said. “The pissant.”

“He wants details.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

“Gladly,” Vonn said. “I’m going to the police. We can’t get mixed up in this.”

“Yeah. I’m not wild about the involvement of the law, but we’re clean,” Dash said. “Take your men and investigate. Try to catch wind of who is using our name, then I’ll destroy him.”

“Will do.” Right away.

“Oh, and tell Larry he’s in. Then let the cops have him.”

“Will do that, too.” He laughed. “Thanks. Bye, Dash.”

“Come home. Ma misses you, and you have an entire family to meet.”

“Later.” But he would. He missed the craziness of the Jordan family. His brothers were settling down, and he’d fucked around. Did the girls have families? Did they miss them? Were the girls being treated well? He’d bet they wanted to go home. “I’m worried these girls are being abused.”

“Most likely they are. I’ve got Jon and Kurtis on the way now. Get information and keep me in the loop. I’ve alerted the police and FBI. This isn’t going to go without anyone’s notice,” Dash said. “We’ll get ‘em.”

 

More from Megan at Changeling Press …

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.

She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.