Tag Archives: Action Adventure Romance

Wolf (Devil’s Fury MC) by Harley Wylde #mcromance #agegap @HarleyW_Writer

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Glory -– Who up and moves to another state where they don’t know anyone and don’t have a job or a place to live? Me, that’s who. When I heard Devil’s Fury was running an underground clinic for women like me — victims of boys pretending to be men — 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. There’s more to Wolf than most people realize, and now that he’s decided I’m his and he’s mine, I’m holding on and never letting go. I won’t even let a killer stand in the way of my happily-ever-after.

Wolf — When my ex left for greener pastures I should have been broken-hearted. So why wasn’t I? 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. Just one problem. Well, two. She’s skittish — she’s been badly hurt by men before, and I’m not exactly a prize. I came back from the war broken physically and mentally. I know Glory can do better. But I always get what I want, and I want Glory. When someone tries to destroy my new family, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe… even if it means letting Glory see the darkness inside me.

WARNING: Wolf’s story is 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.

Available now at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 14th at online booksellers

Praise for Wolf (Devil’s Fury MC)

“A must read for everyone that loves HEAs. Hot men, strong female characters, and lots of sexy times. What’s not to like?” – nbenigno, BookBub

“Wolf and Glory together is pure genius.” – mbtoner8, BookBub

“Prepare for waterworks with this roller coaster ride! Great story line, fantastic characters, and a love that reminds us why book boyfriends are fire!” – lauracriddle1, BookBub

“The twists and turns of this book kept me turning pages…” – T. Carney, BookBub

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde

Glory

I’d lost my mind. What sane person picked up and moved to another state without having a job lined up, all because they wanted to volunteer for an underground clinic, which could lead to imprisonment? Me, that’s who. Although, I now questioned exactly how sane I was. My daughter, Sienna, wasn’t quite a year old, so she didn’t understand what was happening. As long as I fed her on time, and maintained her routine, she didn’t much care where we lived. She did need a roof over her head and I didn’t have housing figured out.

My hands trembled as I followed Tank through the Devil’s Fury clubhouse. Until the second trimester of my pregnancy, I hadn’t even known him, or his wife. Emmie had become a good friend since then, and when I’d heard what the Devil’s Fury wanted to accomplish, I knew I needed to be a part of it.

“Let me do the talking,” Tank said. “You’ll know when you need to speak up.”

“All right. I won’t get in trouble for being here?” I asked, looking around.

“No. You’re with me, and that’s enough. Only my brother is expecting me, so we may not get a warm reception when we first walk in. Their bark is worse than their bite, at least where women are concerned. Just don’t fuck up and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

Right. Because that didn’t make chills skate down my spine. Exactly what would they do to me if I did fuck up? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Tank pushed open some double doors and strolled inside with me on his heels.

“Don’t start the party without me,” Tank said, a smile in his voice.

A man stood at the head of the table, and I assumed he was the club President. I didn’t know much about the way a place like this worked, but Tank’s wife had gone over the basics. I eyed the man’s cut. Badger — President. Yep, I’d been right. I tried to hide the way my hands trembled and hoped no one realized I was out of my depth right now.

“Motherfucker,” Badger muttered. “I should gut you for barging into Church uninvited.”

My stomach clenched and I gave Tank the side-eye. I hoped he was right about these men not getting angry and taking it out on me. I’d defend myself, but I doubted I was much of a match for the guys in the room. And gut him? Did he mean literally?

“Technically, I had an invitation from your VP, and I come bearing gifts.” He reached over and yanked me from where I’d stood partially behind him. I winced and wanted to rub my arm. “Meet Glory.”

“We don’t allow club whores in Church,” one of them said. I eyed his cut. Demon — Sgt. at Arms. Same rank as Tank. Which meant I needed to toe the line, according to Emmie. However, I’ve never been good at doing what I should.

Tank winced and I felt my face flush. A club whore? That’s what they thought? I wanted to scan my clothes, thinking maybe I’d dressed wrong. No. Jeans and a heather gray tee. Nothing overtly sexy about what I had on. In fact, my shirt was even on the loose side.

Anger sparked inside me. Emmie had explained what the club whores were, and how these men didn’t respect them, not even a little. They used them and tossed them aside. And this asshole thought I was a club whore?

I jabbed a finger in Demon’s direction and snarled. “I’m not a fucking club whore. You try to put your dick anywhere near me, I’ll rip it off.”

Badger sat and leaned back in his chair, apparently settling for the show. I hoped like hell there wouldn’t be one. I’d been warned not to let these men push me around and at the same time, I had to act respectful. It was a fine line, and I hoped I didn’t cross it. Even though being around men still scared the crap out of me at times, I didn’t want them to think I was too soft. They needed to know I could handle myself in this world. If I couldn’t prove myself to them, I could be asked to leave.

Demon stared down his nose at me.

“First off, I have a woman so I wouldn’t want my dick anywhere near you. Second, you point at me again, and I’ll –”

Badger cleared his throat and shook his head, giving Demon a look that clearly said shut up. The Sergeant-at-Arms clamped his lips shut and glared at me. I folded my arms and stared back, faking way more bravery than I actually had. I hoped no one noticed I was shaking.

“Introduce Glory, Tank,” someone else said.

“Glory has a four-year degree in biology and was accepted into medical school. She only attended for one semester before she had to quit and stay home,” Tank said.

“Why did you have to quit?” another man asked. Blades was stitched on his cut.

“Fuck that. She doesn’t even look old enough to be out of high school.” The man partway down the table leaned forward, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. “No offense.”

I looked up at Tank, knowing this was the moment he’d mentioned. The time I’d knew I needed to speak. They needed to hear my story, understand why I was here and why I needed to help in any way I could. I faced the table of men.

“I graduated high school when I was fourteen, then finished my four-year degree in three years. I was seventeen when I was accepted into medical school. The reason I dropped out is personal, but considering why I’m here, I’ll share it with you. I was walking across campus one night when two guys dragged me off into the bushes. They hit me several times, nearly knocking me out, then took turns raping me.”

I scanned the room, stopping on each brother for a few seconds before moving on to the next. I dared for one single man to utter anything about me deserving it, or any other bullshit I’d already heard a million times since the incident. Several gazed back at me with sympathy. Others looked furious, but I didn’t think it was at me. No, I thought they wanted to track down the two men who’d hurt me, and if I had names for them, I’d gladly let them do their worst. I doubted I was their first, or their last, victim.

“I have a daughter as a consequence of that night. No one found me for thirty-six hours, and by the time I was treated, it was too late for the morning-after pill to be as effective. They treated me for STDs and sent me on my way.” I took a breath and my fingers clenched and unclenched at my sides. “My parents threw me out when I refused to have an abortion. Sienna, my daughter, is developmentally delayed but she’s an angel. No matter how she was conceived, I’m lucky to be her mom.”

“You dropped out to take care of your kid or because you were scared to be on campus?” another man asked. I checked for a name, needing to make sure I could recognize these men later. Ripper.

“A little of both,” I admitted. “I’m eighteen, in case anyone wondered. Almost nineteen. Tank heard about your project to help rape victims and thought of me. We met at the OB-GYN when I was there for a check-up during my pregnancy, and I spilled my story to his wife.”

The VP, Slash, narrowed his gaze at Tank. “Anything I need to know, brother?”

Tank shook his head. “Got a vasectomy when the girls were about two years old. Those three are more than enough. We were just there for a routine thing. Emmie didn’t want to go alone.”

“You want to help as what? Medical staff?” Badger asked me.

“After having been the victim of two rapists, I can understand where these women are emotionally and mentally,” I said. “I have enough training to help with the basics, but you’d still need a licensed doctor or nurse practitioner. I’m CPR certified, and I’ve been taking some online nursing classes. I just haven’t been able to do the hands-on part because of Sienna.”

“She’ll need a place to stay,” Tank said. “Any objections to letting her use one of the apartments?”

“They only have one bedroom,” Ripper said. “She needs more space if she has a daughter.”

I wanted to smile. These men had no idea the conditions I’d been dealing with since finding out I was pregnant. A one bedroom behind a fence? Seemed more like paradise to me. Having two bedrooms was a luxury, and not one I necessarily needed. As long as I had a roof over our heads, could keep Sienna cool in the summer or warm in the winter, and keep us both fed nothing else mattered.

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!

Wake Me by Angela Knight #darkfantasy #bdsm @AngelaKnight

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Wedding Photographer Chloe Hart has just been dumped when she receives a mysterious gift — a painting of a handsome knight in a heavy gold frame worked with what appear to be magical sigils. She promptly hangs the painting up in place of her cheating ex-boyfriend’s portrait.

That night, she has the most delicious dream of Lord Radolf of Varik, the medieval conqueror who has just seized her castle. He seduces her in a red-hot encounter that makes her forget all about ol’ what’s his name. The next night, Radolf is back, this time as the captain of a pirate ship. Night after night, Radolf and Chloe act out some deliciously erotic scene from her favorite guilty-pleasure romance novels. And every single dream seems utterly real, down to the last scent and taste.

What Chloe doesn’t realize is that what’s all fun and games for her is desperately serious for Radolf. He’s been a prisoner for eight hundred years in the castle of a witch, and he can’t escape until he can find a woman who cares enough to free him. Is Chloe that woman?

Even as the two begin to fall in love, a new and horrible fear grips Radolf: what will the witch do to Chloe?

Get it today at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 14th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Angela Knight

Chloe Hart eyed the newspaper with all the enthusiasm of a woman surveying a dentist’s chair before a root canal. “Don’t be a wuss, Chlo’,” she muttered to herself, and picked up the paper.

Gripping it like a club, she marched back into the house to the kitchen table, where a bracing cup of coffee and a Danish waited to fortify her for the coming ordeal. She tossed the paper on the table, plopped down in her chair, and picked up the mug. An incautious sip scalded the tip of her tongue.

At Chloe’s lisped obscenity, Rhett Butler looked up from his Tender Vittles with an inquiring “Meow?”

“Ignore me, Rhett,” she managed around her boiled tongue tip as she unfolded the newspaper with a series of grim snaps. “Just having a bad morning.”

Happy to comply, the muscular black tom settled back down over his bowl. Like his namesake, he frankly didn’t give a damn. But as she’d told her dog-loving buddy, Amanda Rice, there was something to be said for blunt feline honesty.

Chloe paged past a murder, a house fire, and a really spectacular pileup on I-26 to reach the account of her personal Waterloo. She found it on page four in section C.

The bride smiled her familiar grin from a dozen yards of tulle and seed pearls, clutching a bouquet of white roses that cascaded to her silk-covered knees. Chloe could almost hear her mother sniff that a woman with three kids had no business in that much white. From a professional standpoint, she herself thought the composition was a little off; the tilt of the bride’s veiled head and the position of her flowers didn’t quite lead the eye in the proper flow.

“That’s what you get for using a cheap photographer, you backstabbing bitch,” she muttered at the photo. “Then again, if I’d shot you, I wouldn’t have used a camera.”

Without bothering to read the description of the wedding — she wasn’t that big a masochist, thank you — she closed the newspaper and looked at Rhett. “As God is my witness,” she drawled in her best mock-Scarlett O’Hara growl, “I’ll never be a sucker again.”

Knuckles rattled the storm door. Chloe looked up in surprise. Amanda wouldn’t bother to knock, and she wasn’t expecting anybody else. “If that’s Debbie and Chris, stopping by to beg for forgiveness on the way to the honeymoon,” she told the cat as she got up to answer it, “You have my permission to attack.”

Rhett yawned and twisted around to lick his furry backside.

She looked back at him. “Or you can do that. Does express the general sentiment pretty well.”

Chloe opened the door to find a man in a familiar brown uniform, a huge box tucked awkwardly under one arm. “Delivery,” he said, and juggled his electronic clipboard into her hands.

She took it and signed her name in the window, eying the package. “Wonder who that’s from?”

He shrugged, supremely indifferent. “Looks like a picture to me.”

It did have the right dimensions — four feet across and more than a yard wide, but only three or four inches thick. Curiosity piqued, Chloe accepted the heavy parcel and hauled it inside as the delivery truck roared off. She tossed it down on the kitchen table and went in search of a pair of scissors to attack the packing tape. “If it’s a portrait of the bride and groom,” she told Rhett as she dug through the kitchen drawer, “your litter box is gonna get filled with little bits of photo paper.”

Ripping off a strip of the heavy brown cardboard, Chloe lifted her brows at the intriguing sight of bare, tanned chest and a tight male nipple. “I take it back, Rhett,” she murmured. “Somehow I don’t think this is going in the litter box.”

Ten minutes later, the box lay ruthlessly demolished on the floor, and the oil painting it had contained stood propped on the kitchen table.

Chloe stared reverently.

The knight sprawled in sleep across a tumble of rich sable fur, one hand resting on the jeweled hilt of a sword. It looked as if he’d stripped and fallen asleep after a battle.

He was a big, blond Viking of a man, his hair cropped short, a neat beard framing his lush sinner’s mouth. His starkly handsome face looked as though it had been carved by God’s own chisel, but if so, He’d been in a hurry. There was something a bit crude and brutal in the angles of the knight’s cheekbones and big, square chin. Luckily, those features were balanced out by a regal Roman nose and thick blond brows. The whole effect was intensely masculine — and just a little intimidating.

So was the rest of him. He had the build of a man who’d spent his entire life swinging a blade in an era when losing could cost you your life. He’d cut it close a time or two; his brawny body was slashed here and there with scars that reminded Chloe of a tiger’s stripes.

“Really big hands, too,” she purred under her breath, eying his long fingers and broad palms. Unfortunately, one of the pelts lay across his hips in a pool of sable, preventing her from determining if the interesting bits lived up to those hands.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

The Alpha’s Archer by Alexa Piper #paranormalromance @prowlingpiper

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Lindsey likes being a police detective, and she also likes being a werewolf alpha and a good leader to her pack. What Lindsey doesn’t like is the trickster who has decided to court her in the middle of a series of uncanny murders.

Eris likes his bow, well-fletched arrows, and the werewolf alpha who claws at his heart with her werewolf claws, metaphorically speaking. Yet, law enforcement seems to have an issue with a trickster deploying arrows, and Lindsey is ever the diligent detective.

While bodies grace the streets of Fairview, Eris has decided to win his werewolf’s heart. All he needs to figure out is how to make the stubborn alpha into his lover.

Lindsey decides to team up with St. John Investigations, the best in the business of supernatural oddities in all of Fairview, to get to the bottom of her paranormal murder mystery, but she will have to deal with the trickster all by herself.

Will Lindsey overcome her fear of commitment, and will Eris overcome his urge to shoot people? Can the St. John Investigations B-team help solve the series of crimes, and why is there a bear? Find out in this mysterious murder comedy. Warning: Contains sentient and very horny office furniture.

Get it today at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 14th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Alexa Piper

Like any hunter, Eris enjoyed perching. He was doing it — perching on a fire escape — and watching the alpha bitch below who’d snatched his heart in her werewolf claws. Eris held his bow loosely in his hand as Lindsey, all serious Fairview Police detective with her tight ponytail, took in the corpse. It was a nice, distracting corpse, which made it even easier for Eris to remain unseen.

“The fuckery,” Lindsey was saying. It was quite some fuckery indeed. Not that the sight of a torn ribcage particularly troubled Eris, nor the sight of a Dumpster and a good chunk of the sidewalk decorated with guts. But he could agree with Lindsey’s judgment. It is probably wise to get used to agreeing with her. She will expect it, once I woo her, Eris thought. Of course, Eris had dated a hellhound before, like most archers, but a werewolf alpha was a different kind of fletching altogether. I think I might be looking forward to agreeing with her, Eris thought.

A pigeon landed next to Eris, interrupting the newly found agreeable state of the archer’s mind. The pigeon’s pink claws curled around the iron banister, and he looked at the archer with hungry bird eyes and made a pigeon noise while the alpha bitch discussed the bloody fuckery with the medical examiner who was poking and prodding the corpse.

“I don’t have any food,” Eris told the pigeon.

The pigeon stared with his beady eyes and cooed.

“Seriously. I don’t. Go away. I’m perching here.” Eris shifted a bit and adjusted his grip on his bow.

The pigeon did not move. Eris’s bow hand was beginning to feel the tingling need for an arrow, no matter how scrawny the pigeon’s feathery ass was.

“Go. Away.” He was being nice, wasn’t he? Surely even a Fairview pigeon could appreciate that.

The pigeon was being stubborn, however. Down below, Lindsey was cursing some more before she told the medical examiner to let her know the moment the autopsy was done. Then, the alpha bitch pulled out her phone.

“You know, I don’t hate pigeons, but your kind really shouldn’t be all this territorial,” Eris said.

The pigeon cooed.

“Fucks and feathers,” the archer said. Below, Lindsey ended the call and walked away from the fuckery. “Looks like I’m getting coffee. So long, pigeon.”

Eris, rather than descending, went up. Archers like him had an easy way when it came to high ground, and their kind rarely fell, if ever. And Eris felt pretty sure he knew where Lindsey was headed.

The pigeon stared after him. Then, his territory successfully defended, he cooed once more.

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, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Preorder: Hawk (Reckless Kings MC) by Harley Wylde #mcromance #agegap @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

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Hayley — Having both a father and brother who are in law enforcement, and overprotective, doesn’t make it easy to date. Which is why I was still a virgin at eighteen and had never had a serious boyfriend. If I’d realized chasing Cuddles through the biker compound would result in the hottest night of my life, I might have fixed my hair and dressed a little better. Not that Hawk seemed to mind. He made my knees weak and blew my mind. I just didn’t realize the night would end with a free gift with purchase — one that’s an eighteen-year-long commitment.

Hawk — Never thought I’d make it to the age of forty without ever finding someone special. But I did. Then I met Hayley. She’s the last woman I should fall for, but I can’t seem to help myself. Too bad I figured it out after she disappeared. If I’d known our one night had repercussions, I’d have tried harder to find her. Finding out I have a daughter is the best and scariest thing, but it means I get what I want most. A family.

WARNING: Hawk is part of the Reckless Kings MC series and contains scenes of graphic violence and adult relationships, a couple who just can’t seem to get it right, a troublesome raccoon, and some well-meaning meddlesome bikers who aren’t above causing a bit of mischief.

Available now at Changeling Press

Preorder for April 2nd at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde

Hawk

I leaned against the back of the Dixie Reapers’ clubhouse, enjoying a cigarette and a little alone time. We’d been here two days with Beast and his woman. I understood the reason behind the trip to Alabama, but I was ready to get back home. Nothing against the Reapers, but the men with old ladies only wanted to do family-oriented shit and the single ones were all about the free pussy in the clubhouse. I’d have preferred the middle of the road. Or maybe I was getting old. The women in the clubhouse only wanted to sink their teeth into someone in hopes of getting claimed.

Nothing against the club whores, but they didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting claimed by me. I wanted a woman who looked like an angel on the outside, but clawed my back and screamed my name in the bedroom. Someone respectable to the outside world who only showed that devilish side in private. I was starting to think she was a damn unicorn and I’d never find her.

I inhaled another lungful of nicotine before letting it out. Beast had mostly given up smoking since he’d found out Lyssa was pregnant. Before that, he’d have been out here with me. I had no problem with his priorities changing, as long as he focused on the club when we needed him. But I sometimes felt like I’d lost my brother. He wasn’t down to party like he’d been before, even though he’d slowed down a bit even before Lyssa showed up.

I heard something rustling through the grass and a muttered “I’m going to kill you when I find you.” Definitely a woman’s voice. Since I doubted it was a club whore, it had to be one of the old ladies or some other family member of the Dixie Reapers. Which meant I needed to give her a wide berth.

A fat raccoon went waddling by me wearing a harness and dragging a leash. I stared at it, wondering if I’d had more to drink than I thought or if I’d gone crazy. Who the fuck leashed a raccoon?

A moment later a goddess stepped into the moonlight. Cut-off shorts clung to her like a second skin, and the tank she had on left little to the imagination. Her long, blonde hair fell in curls nearly to her waist.

“I swear to God, Cuddles, I’m going to turn you into a fur muff when I catch you.”

I nearly choked as I tried to hold back a laugh. Cuddles? She might be beautiful, but she was damn sure peculiar if she’d made a pet of that raccoon and named it something so ridiculous. Oddly, I found her intriguing, even if she was crazy as a bedbug.

I watched her stomp past me, mesmerized by the sway of her ass. The shorts barely covered her ass cheeks, and fuck if I wasn’t jealous of them for getting to cup the tempting globes. I reached down to adjust myself, my cock getting uncomfortably hard.

“Cuddles? Cuddles! Goddamnit! We’re not supposed to be in here to begin with. Are you trying to get me killed?” She huffed and stamped her foot.

“Need some help, beautiful?” I asked, pushing away from the wall and stepping out of the shadows.

She whirled to face me, hand at her throat, and her blue eyes wide. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Hawk. My club is here visiting the Dixie Reapers. I think the question is who are you?”

She folded her arms, like she was trying to hold herself together. Her lips pressed together, and she glanced away. It was clear she didn’t want to give me her name, which made me want to know even more.

“Guess I should go get Tank,” I said. “I’m sure he can spare a few men to help you find your pet.”

She jolted. “No! Wait, I… I’m not supposed to be inside the gates, but Cuddles took off and I needed to find him.”

Now we were getting somewhere.

“I’ll help you find Cuddles, on one condition.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Your name, for one.”

She licked her lips and shifted on her feet. “Hayley. Hayley Daniels.”

“That wasn’t so painful, was it? All right, Hayley. My second condition is that you spend some time with me while my club is here.”

She jolted and took a step back. “I can’t! I… you don’t understand.”

I moved closer until I could reach out and wrap a lock of her honey-colored hair around my fingers. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“My family tolerates the Dixie Reapers, but my dad and brother will go through the roof if they find out I’m hanging around bikers. You said you’re only here visiting. Why bother spending time with me?”

“Because I find you fascinating.”

“When you say spend time… what exactly do you mean? Because if it’s sex, I don’t do one-night stands.”

“I don’t take what isn’t offered, beautiful. Just want to get to know you. Not asking for anything more.”

“All right. I need to catch Cuddles before he gets into trouble.”

I took her hand and led her farther into the darkness. I couldn’t believe I was going to spend the night chasing after a fucking raccoon. We finally found the beast, tail up in a trash can. It might have been funny, if Preacher didn’t have a gun trained on it.

“No!” Hayley screamed and took off.

Preacher swung his gun toward her before seeing me and lowering the weapon. “Christ, Hawk. All those women at the clubhouse and you had to go and find the most innocent girl in town? What the hell are you doing inside the compound, Hayley? Your dad and brother know you’re here?”

“Not exactly,” she said, reaching into the trash and pulling out her pet. She gripped the leash when she set Cuddles on the ground. The raccoon reached up and wrapped its front paws around her leg, brushing his head against her. “Cuddles ran off. He came in here and I had to catch him.”

Preacher ran a hand over his head. “Who the fuck is on the damn gate tonight?”

She danced from foot to foot again. “Spencer.”

Preacher rolled his eyes. “Of-fucking-course. Naturally he let you waltz right in without telling anyone.”

I glanced from Preacher to Hayley and back again. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means Spencer would do anything for Hayley. They were best friends until he started to prospect for us. Her brother had a shit fit and read Spencer the riot act, forbidding him to go anywhere near Hayley.”

“Your brother sounds like an asshole,” I said.

Hayley snickered. “You’re not wrong. He has a god complex.”

“Take Cuddles and get the fuck out of here, Hayley. We don’t need your dad and brother putting us under a microscope. We may be more legit these days, but old habits die hard.”

She gave a jerky nod, picked up her pet, and walked off. I watched her a moment before deciding to follow. I tried to tell myself we’d made a deal and she needed to uphold her end. I had to wonder if it was more. I hadn’t liked the idea of her and some punk ass wannabe being close. No, if she was going to have a biker between her thighs, it would be me.

I was starting to understand how Beast had fallen so hard and fast for his woman. Seeing Hayley tramp through the compound, chasing a raccoon of all things, something inside me had twisted into a pretzel. I didn’t like the feeling in my gut, or the way my heart beat a little faster in her presence.

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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!

Find her on: Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Website

New Release: Kraken/Demon paperback by Harley Wylde #mcromance #AgeGap @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

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I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe and make them mine. No one will take them from me.

Kraken (Hades Abyss MC 4 — Mississippi Chapter)
Phoebe — Kraken is different from any man I’ve ever met. He’s more than a decade older than me, but I don’t care. I know the Sadistic Saints will never let me go, but I’ll risk it all to be with Kraken.

Kraken — Never counted on finding a single mom trapped in a life she didn’t ask for. Taking her with me means war, but there’s no way I’ll walk out of here without her. Phoebe’s mine, so is her daughter, Ember, and I’ll spill as much blood as I deem necessary to protect my family. No one will take them from me.

Demon (Devil’s Fury MC 6)
Farrah — I knew what it would mean if I flirted with the Devil’s Fury Sergeant-at-Arms. Leave it to me to find trouble around every corner. I’m not winning at the adulting thing.

Demon — She was a one-night stand, until the condom broke. Then I found out she lied to me. The hot little number in my bed is the daughter of a Dixie Reaper. Now I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s safe, and I’ll make her mine — permanently.

Get it at Amazon

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde
Excerpt from Kraken

I left my room with Joe’s hand on my ass, and made my way to the main part of the clubhouse. I’d been right about the party getting out of control. Naked women paraded through the area, smashed bottles crunched under my feet, and smoke hung heavy in the air. I doubted they were smoking cigarettes, or at least not only that. Three men sat at the bar with colors from another club — Hades Abyss MC was stitched on the rockers. I ran my hands down my short skirt and took a breath to steady my nerves. At least with Deuce and his crew, I knew what to expect. These guys were an unknown.

Then again, after surviving my first night here, I could live through anything.

“Get moving, whore,” Joe said, shoving me from behind.

I stumbled and made my way over to the bar. Deuce had his head thrown back, laughing his ass off at something they said. His eyes lit with an unholy fire as he saw me approaching. The smirk on his lips made my stomach flip and knot. It never meant anything good.

“Here she is, boys. The best I have to offer. The three of you are welcome to take her to the playroom, or just have your fun with her out here,” Deuce said. “The rest of us wouldn’t mind watching.”

I swallowed the knot in my throat and plastered a smile on my face. “Hi, I’m Phoebe.”

“She’ll treat you real good,” Deuce said. The look he cast my way clearly said there would be hell to pay if I didn’t. “She’ll do anything you want.”

The man closest to me turned and my breath caught at how striking he was. Handsome didn’t seem to do him justice. Ink covered his arms and peeked from the neck of his shirt. His beard wasn’t wild like Deuce’s but trimmed neatly and the perfect length. I scanned his cut and saw his name: Kraken — Sgt at Arms. He blocked the others from my view and I wondered if they were officers too.

“They’re here for business,” Deuce said. “Why don’t you take them and show them all a good time?”

“No offense, but we don’t like sharing,” one of the others said. “If she’s your best, let Kraken have her.”

The biker stood and held out his hand. My palm slid against Kraken’s rougher one and shivers raked my spine. I’d never met anyone who looked at me the way he did. I could drown in his gaze. He led me down the hall and my heart slammed against my ribs. He drew me to a stop in the middle of the hallway and I wondered if he wanted to start here. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d been shoved to my knees or backed against the wall.

“Where’s your room?” he asked.

My… No. No, no, no. We couldn’t go in there. It felt like someone tightened their hand around my throat. My heart raced, and my knees nearly gave out.

“Not my room.”

He looked down at me, pinning me in place with his gaze. “You got something to hide?”

“I…”

His grip tightened on my hand and my eyes went wide as I sucked in a breath. Pain shot through my wrist and up my arm. I whimpered and he loosened his hold, but dragged me farther down the hallway. He stopped in front of the last three doors, eyeing each one. I dug in my heels when he opened the one to my room.

“No, we can’t… please!”

He yanked me into the room, but the moment he saw the crib in the corner, he froze. “What the fuck?”

“Please. I’ll do whatever you want, but not in here. Not near my baby.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. You look like a damn kid yourself and you have a baby? In a clubhouse?”

“You didn’t care a minute ago how young I look,” I said. I inwardly winced and wondered if he would hit me. Deuce had, and for much less. This guy was visiting the Sadistic Saints, and held rank in his club. Now wasn’t the time for me to be mouthy.

“I don’t fuck kids. I figured if you were out there on offer, you must be legal, but now I’m not so sure. Don’t know a single damn club who lets a whore keep a kid in her room. Start talking, girl. How old are you? Why the hell are you here?”

I sucked in a breath, wondering if I could trust him. He hadn’t tried to force himself on me, or demand I drop to my knees. It made him different from the men who’d come here before. I could be wrong. What if Deuce sent him here to gain my trust, see if I was loyal?

He moved in closer and tipped my chin up. “Baby girl, talk to me. You aren’t like the others, are you? Girls like you, especially with little babies, don’t live like this. You’re a pretty little thing, look sweet as sugar.”

I licked my lips and glanced away. “If Deuce walks by or sends someone else and they don’t hear us having sex, it won’t end well for me. Just… tell me what you like. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You want to have sex?” he asked.

I gave a slight nod.

“Really? Want a good hard fucking?” He moved in closer, pressing against me.

I swallowed hard and waited. He reached for me, sliding his hand up under my skirt, wedging it between my thighs. He stroked my panties and I tried not to lock up or run.

“You’re not wet. Makes me think you don’t want me after all.”

“No! I… I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”

He backed me against the wall. “Again, start talking, pretty girl. Why are you here? Because I wasn’t patched in yesterday. You’re no fucking club whore.”

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!

“Her characters are phenomenal and have a lot of depth to them. She is absolutely fantastic at writing an engaging sexy story. Harley Wylde keeps the words flowing so that you have to turn the page to see what happens next.”– All Author Interview

New Release: Broken Spell by Mychael Black #LGBTQ #DarkFantasy @changelingpress

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Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Wizard Micah Norwood was exiled from his cabal, but he didn’t leave empty-handed. Every cabal possesses a Focus Gem, a crystal used to store collective energies, used only for wide-reaching spells. He knows his cabal is readying to overthrow a Dark Fae House, but he doesn’t know why. After meeting Kirof, a Dark Fae on the run from his own House, Micah realizes he can’t let the cabal succeed.

Kirof, formerly of House Vakeor, has no idea why his companion Micah was exiled, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before the wizards or the Dark Fae find them. Desperately trying to keep them one step ahead of their pursuers, Kirof finds himself caring far more for Micah than he should.

Get it Now at Changeling Press

Preorder for March 12th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Mychael Black

Micah Norwood wandered into the adjacent sitting room, half asleep. He paused in the doorway. Kirof still slept in one of the chairs. Micah had tried getting the man to share the bed, but Kirof had resisted. Micah had never been the type to just make the first move, but waiting for Kirof to do it was slowly driving him insane. The desire between them had been strong from the moment they’d first met. It was a weird mix of hot and unnerving.

“Micah?”

He shook his head, belatedly realizing he’d zoned off. He smiled at Kirof. “Lost in thought. Are you regretting the chair yet?”

Kirof stood slowly, wincing as if in pain. Sleeping in a chair sucked. Been there, done that. Micah held the man’s gaze as Kirof approached him. Pale hair fell over Kirof’s broad shoulders, and ice-blue eyes held Micah more spellbound than anything he’d ever conjured himself.

“Not necessarily the chair,” Kirof said.

“Yeah?” Micah stopped short of daring Kirof to take one more step closer. He had to look up, considering the Dark Fae was nearly a foot taller. He’d always hated being short, but something about a taller man made him weak in the knees. Broad, muscled. Kirof defied every Fae stereotype that existed, dark or light.

Kirof braced his hands on either side of the doorframe. Micah forced himself to look at the man’s face and not the muscular arms outstretched above him. Kirof leaned down, and Micah held his breath, praying. Just when Micah thought he’d finally get the kiss he’d been wanting since they first met, someone knocked on the door.

Spell broken, Kirof stepped away, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. Micah wanted to launch an ice bolt at whatever jackass had interrupted. Kirof opened the door, revealing one of his brothers, Roen. Roen’s human lover, Kyle, followed the Dark Fae into the room. Kirof shut the door behind them.

“Have you seen Aron?” Roen asked, his expression one of concern.

“No,” Kirof said. “We just woke up. Well, I did.” He glanced at Micah.

Micah shook his head. “I haven’t been awake long. Is Aron not in his room?”

Roen sat down, brow furrowed. “No.” He glanced up. “All his stuff is gone.”

Kirof blinked. “Gone? Where the hell would he go? You know him better than anyone.”

“I don’t know,” Roen said. “This isn’t like him, Kirof. He wouldn’t just up and leave without saying anything to me. Something isn’t right about this.”

“No need to get worked up yet,” Kirof said. “I’m sure he’s fine. Is there anyone else he’d want to visit?”

“Wait. What about that waitress we met?” Kyle asked Roen.

“She and Aron seemed to be rather… friendly.”

Roen shook his head. “Tanra would come here. She knows where this place is. Hell, she’s sent a few folks here for safety. If she and Aron wanted to get together, this would be the best place to do it.”

Kyle grumbled. “I thought twins could mind read each other.” Chuckling, Roen put his arm around his lover’s shoulders. “Fairy tales.”

Something felt off to Micah, though he couldn’t figure out what. Aron had seemed perfectly fine, if a bit aloof, when they’d met. What could have changed? Micah went back into the bedroom and sat in the makeshift circle he’d set out on the wooden floor. He tried focusing on Aron, picturing the man in his mind, every detail.

Hazy images began to form, and he relaxed more to allow them through. Someone, another Dark Fae, spoke to Aron, though the stranger’s back was turned. Micah tried to focus on Aron’s lips in hopes of catching any words that might help. Aron and the stranger started out of whatever room they were in, and Micah caught a glimpse of what looked like an insignia on the stranger’s left arm. A tattoo?

Micah sighed as the image faded.

“Any luck?” Kirof asked from the doorway.

“I don’t know,” Micah said. He looked at Roen, who stood just behind Kirof. “I saw him speaking to someone, another Dark Fae. The stranger had a tattoo on his left arm.” He patted his own bicep. “Black, two swords crossed, with a rose in the bottom open space.”

Roen’s brow furrowed. “That’s House Kehru’s insignia. Aron was supposed to babysit a delegate visiting House Vakeor, but that was before we left. There’s no reason why he’d do so now. He’d be in chains the second he stepped foot into House Vakeor territory.”

“What about exiles from House Kehru?” Kyle asked from behind Roen. “Are there any?”

“Not that we know of,” Roen said. “But I could be mistaken. Micah, were you able to hear them at all? Or see where they might be?”

“I tried to read Aron’s lips, but I assume he spoke your language. None of the words looked even remotely familiar. As for place, a room of stone. Stone walls, ceiling. I couldn’t see the floor. The door they walked out of was wooden, though. No windows either.”

Roen sighed. “That doesn’t bode well. It sounds like he’s back underground, but why? What is he doing there?”

Micah met Kirof’s gaze. The Dark Fae’s expression mirrored what Micah feared might be the case. Micah drew in a deep breath before speaking.

“Roen… how well do you trust your twin?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Myc has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael. Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC games, reading, watching Netflix, and spending way too much time on Facebook. Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is bio-female, mentally male, and 100% genderfluid, so any pronoun works!

“Black’s work is poetic and haunting. Nobody can pull off smoldering sex alongside holler-deep, soulful characters like Mychael Black.” –Sara Jay

New Release: Bitten for Love by Crymsyn Hart #DarkFantasy #ParanormalRomance @crymsynhart @changelingpress

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Cover Art by Karen Fox

Jasmine thought falling into a magic book and landing in Oz with the Scarecrow, Micha, and Leon the Cowardly Lion was odd. However, getting sent to Dracula’s castle where she finds herself and her two men falling prey to the undead count even stranger. There they discover an unlikely ally who will help them save Micha from Dracula’s clutches.

Even as they venture deeper into the count’s castle, her feelings for both Leon and Micha deepen. Magic is growing within her thanks to the strange book which tells their story. Even with saving Micha’s very soul, the one most important thing they have to remember is keeping the book away from the evil Dorothy at all cost.

Get it Now at Changeling Press

Preorder for March 12th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Crymsyn Hart

Jasmine landed on top of both Micha and Leon, a much softer arrival than she had when she entered Oz. The plant monster remained in Munchkinville. She and Micha had gotten away after he pushed her through his magic book. She rolled off the men quickly and double-checked to make sure everything worked. Micha wiped the grime from his jeans and shoved the book back into the bag slung across his shoulder. It was his most precious possession and the reason they were on the run. They couldn’t let the tome fall into the wrong hands.

Jasmine went over to him, but tripped and planted her hands directly onto Leon’s chest. A zing went through her when she touched Leon. She blushed and caught the slight flash of green energy connecting them. Leon gave her a small smile as he stepped away. The bags Micha had conjured for her and for himself landed next to them. She put her pack on her back and handed Micha’s knapsack to him.

“Thanks. How did these get here? I left them in the room,” Micha asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine. You’re the one with the magic book that has a mind of its own and a wand,” Jasmine replied. She plucked a few small pieces of dirt from her shirt.

“It’s not a wand. It’s a pen,” Micha commented through gritted teeth.

She held up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. You wave the pen around and light comes out of the end. My mistake if I thought it was a wand.” Jasmine tried to joke away her fear of where they had landed. “Has your pen recharged yet so you can write us out of danger?”

“Afraid I won’t be able to handle what’s coming next?” Micha snapped.

She sighed. “No. That’s not what I meant. Good grief. Somewhere in all this, things have gotten all tangled up. I want to know if you’re okay.” Jasmine touched his shoulder. The image of him being lifeless and barely breathing hung in her mind. Micha was her way home, back to the real world, and if he died Jasmine would be stuck in Oz. “You were whiter than a sheet the other night. Now you’re jumping through magic books once more. I wanted to be sure you were okay. Using your magic pen won’t drain the life out of you again, will it?”

Micha’s firm expression faltered, and his lips turned up into a smile. The same one she first saw when he asked her if she was okay after they took shelter in Dorothy’s house — the one she’d dropped on the Wicked Witch of the East. He touched her hand and brushed his lips across hers. Her insides lit up and her stomach flip-flopped when she thought how she felt about him. “I’ll be okay. Everything’s changed in Oz. I had to channel my energy into the pen to get us to Glen-da’s. I used the last of what I had to heal your knee. I didn’t thank you for saving me, did I?”

“No, but how about saying we’re even? You saved me. I saved you. You finally figured out I’m not going to steal the book from you.”

“You still need to get home. You might decide to take it from me while I’m not looking.”

Jasmine crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “After what’s happened between us, do you really think I’d leave you high and dry?”

Micha ran his hand over the bag containing the book. “I’ve seen stranger things happen. She might have woven you into our story, but you’re a wild card no matter what’s happened between us.”

“I thought we’d be over this, or you’d be over the idea I’m going to screw you after our con –”

“Uh… guys… can you fight later?” Leon asked.

“We’re not fighting,” they both replied. Jasmine glanced at Micha and laughed. The whole conversation sounded ridiculous.

“Micha, I’m not going to run away with the book. I promise. I want to know what she’s doing to me and what role I play with you two.” Jasmine poked him and tried to feel more confident in what she said. Truthfully, the idea scared her to death to think she played any kind of role in the messed-up story she found herself in, getting thrown into a magic book Micha was trying to keep away from Dorothy Gale from Kansas. All Jasmine knew was that Micha and Leon had been friends. Somehow, Dorothy took the place of the witch she killed. After Dorothy found Jasmine and Micha in Oz, they had to flee from the Emerald City. Micha used the book for her and Leon to escape to the new world they arrived in.

Where is here? Jasmine wondered. The air felt gritty along her skin. She caught the undertone of death on the breeze and the smell turned her stomach. Deep down, she was scared. Night surrounded them. Being stranded in another strange reality, where the rules were probably different from those in the universe she left, made it all the weirder. The worst was their journey was being handled by a book that had a mind of its own.

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

Firewalk With Me by Mychael Black #LGBTQ #DarkFantasy

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Eight years ago, Kyle Stafford had everything a seventeen-year-old kid could want — the latest gadgets, the best clothes, the newest sports car, and a palatial home. A single lapse in judgment changed everything. Now he’s lucky if he eats once a day. Taking refuge in a small cave to avoid a torrential downpour, he’s hoping for a safe place to sleep. What he gets is far from restful… and definitely not safe.

Roen of House Vakeor takes his job as a guard very seriously. When his patrol leads him to one of the hidden portals to the humans’ side, he stumbles — quite literally — into a young human male sleeping right at his realm’s front door. Whether the human knows where the entrance is or not, Roen’s duty requires him to take the young man prisoner — back to House Vakeor.

Now Available at Changeling Press

Preorder at online booksellers for March 5th

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Mychael Black

Fuck.

Kyle Stafford huddled under the tattered awning of a decrepit old general store. Rain pounded the dirt, turning it into a lovely mass of mud. Kyle sighed. He couldn’t stay here. He needed sleep — desperately. The city shelters were too far away, and, honestly, he had no desire to go to any of them. The shelters were always overcrowded and stank of piss, body odor, and only God knew what else. No, he needed somewhere out here, a cave maybe.

The mountains loomed in front and behind him. Surely, he could find a small nook to take refuge in, at least until the rain stopped. He shivered and pulled his battered coat tighter around him. The poor thing was threadbare, but it still kept him reasonably warm. His stomach growled, and he glanced over his shoulder at the abandoned store. Nothing perishable, but maybe a can or two of something? He looked around, then picked up a broken piece of wood and finished busting an already half-broken window. Then he cautiously climbed in, wood still in hand. No telling what else decided to check out the place.

The inside seemed to have weathered time far better than the exterior. Most of the shelves, while empty, still stood in place. Judging by the various product signs hanging on the walls, the store wasn’t quite as old as the outside appeared. Thankfully, no creatures — animal or human — jumped out at him. Kyle scanned the aisles, but the place had been picked bare. He exited the same way he entered and figured his best bet stood straight ahead.

By the time he slogged through the rain and muck, he swore even his bones were utterly drenched. He ignored the cold ache sweeping up from his waterlogged feet and made his way to what appeared to be a small cave opening. It wasn’t big, but it was dry. Wood in hand, he explored it to the back, satisfied nothing else called it home. It wasn’t warm by any means, and even starting a fire the primitive way would be futile with the rain soaking every bit of wood outside.

Kyle found a relatively smooth spot and lay down. Hunger gnawed at him, but he could deal with that later. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to sleep. On his side, pillowing his head on his arm, he closed his eyes, feeling safer than he had in a long time.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Myc has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael. Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC games, reading, watching Netflix, and spending way too much time on Facebook. Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is bio-female, mentally male, and 100% genderfluid, so any pronoun works!

“Black’s work is poetic and haunting. Nobody can pull off smoldering sex alongside holler-deep, soulful characters like Mychael Black.” –Sara Jay

Grizzly (Devil’s Fury MC) by Harley Wylde #NewAdult #ContemporaryRomance @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

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She deserves better, but I can’t stay away. May will be mine!

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

May — I know what everyone sees when they look at him. A rough biker from the wrong side of town. But they don’t know John the way I do. He’s kind, protective, and there’s no one I’d rather be with. Unfortunately, he’s keeping me in the friend zone. He’s saved me multiple times, but when he finds me being attacked by the town’s golden boy, I see the Grizzly his club has named him for… but even at his most vicious I’m not scared of him. I don’t care that he’s a little older than me, or that people whisper when he walks past. I love him, and I know I’ll keep loving him until the day I die.

Grizzly — She’s too sweet, too good. Too perfect. May deserves the best life can offer, a respectable guy. That isn’t me. She might see me as some cuddly teddy bear, but there’s blood on my hands. I earned the name the Devil’s Fury gave me, and I wear it proudly. So I push her away, keep her at arm’s length, and make sure she thinks I don’t desire her even a little.

It’s a lie. Biggest one I’ve ever told. There’s only one thing I want more than my club, more than my next breath — and that’s May.

WARNING: This is for everyone who’s ever asked, “Will Grizzly get a book?” Grizzly’s story is a shorter Devil’s Fury MC novella and contains some violence, bad language, and graphic physical relationships. It takes place outside the series timeline. Guaranteed happily-ever-after, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

#1 Bestseller at Kobo.com in New Adult Romance!

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Preorder for March 5th at online booksellers

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!

“Her characters are phenomenal and have a lot of depth to them. She is absolutely fantastic at writing an engaging sexy story. Harley Wylde keeps the words flowing so that you have to turn the page to see what happens next.”– All Author 

Caligo by Torri Heat #paranromalromance @TorriHeat @changelingpress

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Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Ava’s stepped out of her own reality and into another world — a world where werewolves exist. She’s slowly coming to terms with Jasper and their mate bond, but now she has bigger problems. Whatever’s hunting the werewolves in her small town is still on the loose. Worse yet, her parents seem to have a vendetta against Jasper.

With Jasper’s help, Ava’s embracing her Venator heritage. Good thing she has a hot werewolf to teach her everything she needs to know about fighting. But will she be strong enough for what comes next?

Available Now at Changeling Press

Preorder for February 26th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Torri Heat

This was fine. I was fine. I could handle werewolves. I could handle Venators. I could handle anything thrown at me. Right? Maybe not. “I’m sorry. What did you say?” I immediately recalled my mom’s snarky tone as she questioned me about mates.

Jasper sucked in a breath. “Well, werewolf mates are basically soulmates. But it’s a bit different because…”

I held my hand up, cutting him off before he could go any further. “Jasper, I’m a bit more concerned with the fact that you think we’re mates. And the fact you are only telling me now.” I sat up, covering myself with his blanket and stared at him. Mates? Us? He must be kidding.

Jasper laughed, but his voice sounded like it was shaking and I could tell he was nervous. “Hey, if you can think of a better way to tell someone you’ve just met they’re your soulmate, I’m all ears.”

His logic seemed understandable, but his reasoning didn’t stop my blood from rushing into my ears, and my pulse from racing. I knew my life had changed from the minute Jasper told me werewolves were real, but I hadn’t expected this. I clutched the blanket in one hand, and waved my other arm in agitation. “It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense!”

Jasper put a soothing hand on my arm, but I shook him off. He looked hurt at my rejection, but I was too riled up to stop. “Hey, baby, relax. What doesn’t make sense?”

I ran my fingers through the rat’s nest of my hair in frustration. “All of it! Any of it!” I gestured towards his naked body, every inked muscle on full display, and then towards my covered self. “Look at you, and look at me! We don’t make sense. We’re nothing more than a fling, and I’m not even sure how that happened, to be completely honest.”

His gaze turned hard, and he roughly grabbed me by my shoulders. “Don’t. Don’t start that. Mates give us exactly what we need in a partner. What you lack, they give, and vice versa. I know you didn’t grow up with this shit, but I’m telling you whatever brought us together was done perfectly.” He tipped my face, forcing me to look up at him. “Besides, I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in any room, mates be damned.”

I couldn’t deny the inescapable pull he had on me. The way I felt desperate to be near him. “Is this why I felt like I knew you, even before we met?” Everything was starting to make sense in a way I wasn’t sure I wanted it to.

Jasper sighed. “Most likely. I tried to downplay the feeling before you could think too much about what all this meant. I didn’t think you would ever go for me at the time.” My breathing hitched, and I felt my pulse slow. Despite all my concerns and my overwhelming need for independence I couldn’t write off what Jasper was saying. He gently stroked my cheek, and I leaned into his touch.

He nodded, his gaze softening. “You feel it too, don’t you? The bond. It has a relaxing effect when we’re together, touching.”

I couldn’t disagree with him. But that didn’t mean I wanted to agree either. “I have questions.”

“I imagine you do.” Jasper’s face relaxed. God, he was so handsome it was distracting. His chiselled cheekbones and full lips were mere millimetres from me.

“I need complete honesty, if this is going to work. When did you first think I was your mate?”

“Well, that’s a tough question.” He grimaced, but I glared at him until he continued. “I saw a photo of you a few years ago, one of the times I met with your parents. I had a feeling, but I managed to convince myself that you can’t find your mate through a photograph. I forgot about it until that day I walked into the coffee shop and there you were. All the time we have spent together since then has reinforced my feelings. I wanted to be sure, and then I couldn’t figure out a way to tell you.”

I blinked, my mind reeling. “That’s why my mom told me to ask you about mates.”

Jasper looked surprised. “She did?”

I closed my eyes, nodding. “Uh huh. Putting two and two together now, I can only imagine she was hoping I would freak out and leave once I knew the truth.” My mom being so cruel was a tough reality to face. So many of these lies that Jasper was having to come clean about stemmed from my parents, not him. I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. “Why are my parents so against us being together?”

He jumped out of bed, back turned to me as he started throwing his clothes back on. “People who know about wolves can be prejudiced towards us. Some think that a human and werewolf match goes against nature.” His voice was tight, and I could tell this wasn’t his favourite topic.

“Are my parents like that?” I asked.

Jasper stiffened, midway through pulling his shirt on. “Do you actually want to know the answer to that?”

Did I? Could his response be any worse than them lying to me my whole life, or them not believing in me? “Yes. I do.”

“Your parents are the ones who convinced me to not seek you out the moment I saw your photo. They asked me to stay away. For everything your parents have done for us, the idea of a human and werewolf match is still unacceptable.” He spoke without emotion, and I realized he was worried I might share my parents’ prejudices.

I slipped off the bed, wrapping my arms around him. “I don’t think like them, Jasper. You being a werewolf is only a part of who you are. It’s not the whole of it.”

Jasper turned in my arms, gaze offering a small glimmer of hope. “Do you mean that?”

“Absolutely. Even if my parents were in my good books right now, I don’t think I could ever think anything about us was unnatural. This whole mate thing does explain a lot of weird shit. But…”

His eyebrows shot so high they nearly reached the dark waves of his hairline. “But?”

“I want to do this my way.”

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.