TEASER: Invisible Monsters by Angela Knight

Sci-fi Romance, BDSM, Second Chances

Date Published: November 14, 2025

Can two Rangers find love when they’re haunted by invisible
monsters — inside and out?

 

Earth civilians are obsessed with selfies and social media, but my life
revolves around alien starships, superhuman strength, and A.I. implants. Too
bad none of it helped when I was captured and tortured. Now I crave revenge,
but as a genetically engineered Ranger, I must obey Mothership’s rules:
protect humanity. Never kill.

When another alien ship sends monsters to invade Earth, Mothership’s
Rangers must stop them. My new Ranger teammate is everything I shouldn’t
crave: handsome, skilled, and haunted by his own dark past. He helped rescue
me from torture, but it cost him his entire team. Now I’m the mess
he’s got to clean up.

 


Battling invisible monsters may be the death of us, but our mutual attraction
is undeniable. Can we stop an alien invasion despite our dangerous chemistry?

 

EXCERPT

 

Present Day

Diana

I stared at the screen, watching the Earth grow larger as our transport raced
toward it. Even after two months as one of Mothership’s Rangers, the
sight reminded me how strange my new life had become. Down there, people were
obsessed with selfies, celebrities, and social media. I’d plunged into a
world of giant alien starships, AI brain implants, and super-strength.

And worse.

An image flashed through my head — the sadistic grin on Roger Bannon’s
face as he leaned in, the surgical drill whining as it spun. I’d fought
not to scream as the drill bit in.

Roger loved it when I screamed.

I shoved away the memory, hard. If I wasn’t careful, that thin face with
those pale, rabid eyes would start running through my head on an OCD loop.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” I muttered.

Next to me, Ian Cartwright turned to give me a narrow stare. “What did
you say?”


Damnit, Diana, you’re not supposed to creep out your battle buddy.

“Bad memories.”

His expression softened, ice-blue eyes going a little less chilly. “I
can imagine.”


No, you really can’t.
I didn’t say it aloud. Cartwright already
thought I was a human hand grenade just waiting for somebody to pull my pin.
The team didn’t need that kind of distrust, especially in the middle of
an op.

I looked away to see Indra Fox watching me in concern. Crap, I’d even
freaked her out. She and our team leader, Rowan Kerr, sat on one of the other
bench seats beside the huge oval screens that lined the transport’s
curving fuselage.

Indy had been my best friend all my life, my sister in every way but blood.
She could read me as if she were telepathic. “Having a flashback?”
She tilted her head, long, dark hair swinging around her face, green eyes
startling against the silken fall of black. Like me, Indy had a tough,
athletic build from the combat and strength training we’d had from the
time we could walk. Our dads hadn’t been fooling around.

“I’ve got it handled.”

“Cyberpunk could block those if you’d let him.”

She was right — my AI brain implant could suppress the firing synapses that
triggered those memories. “I’m not going to give Roger the
satisfaction.”

Rowan Kerr snorted. “Satisfaction’s the last thing Bannon’s
feeling.” Our team leader was even bigger than Cartwright, though his
features were less classically handsome, with the rich golden coloring of his
Latino heritage. His angular features and intense gaze made him look like
he’d escaped a temple in ancient Greece. “If he even thinks about
what he did to you, he’ll get a one-way trip to PTSD hell. Pissing
Mothership off is never a good idea.”

“She still turned him loose. He could try it again.” That’s
why I dreamed of killing him, First Reg or no First Reg. If Bannon was dead,
he’d never come back.

Cartwright gave me a frustrated glower. “Newman, he can’t. His
conditioning won’t let him. If you violate the First Reg again,
you’re going to find out why — the hard way. You’ve used up the
only second chance you get.”

That just pissed me off. “If Mothership had rescued Indra and me when
Satan’s Horsemen murdered our –”

“How about not starting a fight in the middle of a mission?” Rowan
interrupted. “We’ve got a child and his family to rescue.
Preferably before the damn Boars grab them.”

I shut my mouth so fast, my teeth clicked. I’d seen the file photo in
Aiden Scott’s dossier. Just eight years old, the kid had huge brown eyes
in a pale, round little face under a flyaway mop of dark hair, his grin wide
and white and missing a couple of baby teeth.

When Aiden was diagnosed with a high-risk medulloblastoma at age four, doctors
treated the brain tumor with surgery, chemo, and radiation. He’d still
relapsed three years later. The boy would probably be dead now, except
Mothership spotted his family’s medical GoFundMe. She’d sent a
Ranger team to the Scott family with an offer to heal Aiden. His parents
hadn’t looked a gift miracle in the mouth — just packed him up and
flown off with the Rangers.

Giant alien spaceships are a lot less scary than losing a child.


Mothership
’s doctors had infused Aiden’s body with nanotech —
molecule-sized bots that hunted down every cancer cell in his body and killed
them all. Then the tech corrected the genetic condition that caused the cancer
while healing the damage it had inflicted. He’d been healthy and happy
within three months.

But that nanotech also made him a tempting target for the Boarosans
who’d invaded the solar system a decade back. The humans whose bodies
the Boars used as unwilling hosts were as vulnerable to disease as everyone
else, and the aliens wanted to keep their meat suits healthy. That was why
they’d ordered the Horsemen to kidnap me, why Bannon and his
“researchers” had cut me, scarred me, peeled me so they could
watch my tech put me back together. They’d hoped to reverse engineer my
nanotech.

They could easily do the same to Aiden. Mothership’s simulations
predicted that since I’d escaped, the Boar might well decide to go after
the Cured she’d treated.

The idea of that sweet little boy at the mercy of the same aliens who’d
given me to Roger…


Rescuing Aiden’s a hell of a lot more important than beefing with my own
team. Better mend some fences.

I gave Ian a tight nod. “Sorry for going off on you, Cartwright.
Rowan’s right — an op isn’t the time to get pissy.”

He studied me thoughtfully. Rangers were universally attractive —
Mothership’s genetic engineering at work — but Ian was even more
gorgeous than the typical agent. His face was intensely masculine, all high
cheekbones and square jaw, his nose aquiline, his mouth wide, with a lower lip
I longed to nibble. He wore his sable hair in a severe style that made him
look even harder, sexier, but it was his eyes that pulled me in. An icy blue,
they were ringed and rayed in a rich cobalt, watchful and cool. People tend to
dismiss a man that pretty, but Cartwright was also six-five and built like an
NFL defensive lineman. As one of Mothership’s Rangers, he was even more
dangerous than he looked.

“I started it.” His voice rumbled in a way that made me yearn to
exchange more than snark with him. “Shouldn’t have poked the
wound. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s just… start over, okay? The point is getting Aiden
and his family to safety.”

His nod was tight and controlled, like everything else about the man.
“Works for me.”

 

About the Author

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published
more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and
Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades,
Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their 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
LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. 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.

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15


RABT Book Tours & PR

PREORDER BLITZ: Chain of Kisses by Angela Knight

 

BDSM Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: June 13, 2025

 


Runaway Bride meets Unstoppable Force — recipe for disaster? Or love
rekindled?

 

For years, Prince Admiral Arles of Tor has been obsessed with Gisel Vanda, who
jilted him at the altar. When he discovers the lovely runaway is now a
mercenary space captain, he captures her, determined to get Gisel out of his
system. He soon discovers she’s even more intelligent and beautiful than he
remembered, but she is also a political liability he can’t afford.

Gisel bitterly regrets jilting Arles, and her love for him still burns bright.
Even as he tests her with acts of erotic dominance, she sees the opportunity
to redeem herself. But with a murderous enemy closing in, can love survive the
demands of royalty?



EXCERPT

I gave the manacle on my right arm a restless tug, and it responded with a
musical rattle. I couldn’t see a damn thing. A blindfold bit into my temples,
wrapping me in sensual, intimate darkness.

The lack of vision only made me more aware of him — his scent, that faint
tang of spice and masculinity, the heat of his big body standing just to the
left of the bunk he’d chained me to, the slight rasp of his breathing. I have
always been acutely aware of Prince Arles of Tor, once my intended, now my
captor.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat down beside me. I quivered like an
animal, imagining his nudity. The way he’d looked that night ten years before
was branded on my memory. Arles’s broad back had flexed as he’d used the light
whip, the perfect, tanned hemispheres of his bare ass working in concert with
the leap of thigh muscles and the snap of brawny arms.

The girl had squirmed and sighed every time he hit her. Even as young as I’d
been a decade ago, I’d known she loved it. The smell of sex hung in the air
like some kind of musky, exotic spice.

“That’s what he’ll do to you,” my sister had whispered as we watched from the
secret chamber. “And he’ll make you want it. Mother will be appalled.”

Our mother might have known Arles dominated other women, but it would never
occur to her that one of her daughters would feel the need to submit.

We, after all, had been born to rule.

“Never,” I’d snarled, with all the melodrama of the seventeen-year-old I’d
been. I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the prince’s feral strength. “I will
not shame my blood.” I could feel myself going wet.

“You will. He’ll weave his alien magic, and you’ll bow that proud little
head.”

I feared Isa was right. Even if I hadn’t been in love with him, Arles was too
much for me. I’d end up sacrificing everything I was to his dominance and raw
male power. My mother would turn from me in disgust and revulsion. I couldn’t
bear the thought of her disappointment.

But I also knew my mother would force me to abide by the demands of the
treaty. Saying no at the altar was not an option.

Two hours later, I slipped from the palace, abandoning my world, my family,
and my life. The Capital Spaceport was only a few blocks away, and I meant to
seek passage off world. I was too well known to take a flitter taxi — any
capital cabbie knew my curfew and would refuse to pick me up, for fear of the
Royal Guard’s wrath — so I decided to walk.

A block from my goal, I was attacked by a pack of throat slitters who dragged
me into an alley. I survived only because a passing mercenary heard my screams
and charged to the rescue. He killed every one of the slitters and flew me to
his ship for treatment of some ugly injuries.

Captain Galon Teve had a merc’s hard eyes, but his heart was soft. When I told
him my story, the big, gray-haired cyborg took pity on me and hired me on as
crew.

My new mentor taught me how to fight, how to kill, and how to pleasure. Yet no
matter how I tried, I could never love Galon as he came to love me. My heart
was already captive to a boy with a Paladin’s eyes — and a man with a devil’s
smile.

Under Galon’s tutelage, I discovered a talent for tactics and strategy.
Eventually I became his second-in-command. When Galon fell in battle against
the Fafnar, I succeeded him as captain of the Valkyrie Quest.

Through it all, Arles haunted my shamed fantasies. I’d lie in my lonely bunk
with one hand stroking between my thighs, remembering the shadows rolling
across his big body in time to the snap of his whip.

Now it was no dream.

Arles touched my nipple, brushing calloused fingertips over the hard nubbin.
Just once, but I still caught my breath at the liquid heat that rushed through
me.

“Sensitive little breasts.” His voice rumbled in the intimate darkness of my
blindfold. “I wonder how you’ll taste. Shall I find out?”

Saliva flooded my mouth, and I swallowed. I didn’t answer.

“I asked you a question.” His fingers closed over my flesh in a pinch
carefully calibrated to give more pleasure than pain. Yet the potential sting
floated just beneath the delight like a dark promise. “I want an answer. Shall
I taste you?”

“You’ll do as you please. You always do.”

“True.” He twisted, released, flicked the nipple back and forth, sending warm
delight lapping along my nerves. “But a show of submission on your part might
appease me.”

“I rather doubt it.”

“But can you afford to take the chance?” Another hot pinch, this one with a
hint of sting. Perversely, I felt heat flood my belly. “My reputation is not
exaggerated.”

“I never thought it was.”

“Perhaps a silk flogger.” He brushed his hand over the sensitive flesh of my
left breast, gave me a caressing squeeze. “Right across these pretty tits. I
would enjoy watching you dance.”

“I’ve heard that of you.” I tried for a tone of mild contempt, but my voice
sounded too high, too breathless. I silently cursed myself. I could usually
act more skillfully for my enemies.

Unfortunately, I’d never seen Arles as a foe. Even now, bound and naked, I
remembered the thoughtful boy who’d first taught me strategy over endless
games of Conquest. The prince was even more skilled now, a conqueror of two
worlds who’d driven the Fafnar from Torrean space with his ruthless, brilliant
tactics. When Arles tracked me down three days ago, I’d known I was in
trouble.

I wasn’t really surprised, though. I’d known the prince would demand a
reckoning one day; my actions had done too much damage to his reputation.
Anybody who watched the news vids knew that.

I’d also known winning a fight with him wasn’t likely. Arles commanded a huge,
Starbreaker-class warship that was the pride of the Torrean fleet. Bristling
with blaze cannons and thermal torpedoes, the Mjˆlnir outgunned the
Valkyrie three to one. Naming that ship after Thor’s Hammer had been entirely
too apt.

But though the Valkyrie was small, she was fast and nimble. She proved it as
the Mjˆlnir chased us for three days through the thickest asteroid field
I could find. Arles caught us just as we prepared to escape into superlight
space. A salvo of thermal torpedoes blew Valkyrie’s quantum engines, leaving
us dead in space.

The prince demanded my surrender as the price of my crew’s lives. I didn’t
want my people to pay for my sins, so I’d agreed. Leaving the Valkyrie in the
hands of my executive officer, I flew to meet Arles in my personal launch.

When I stepped off the small craft’s ramp onto the Mjˆlnir’s squadron
deck, I found him holding a collar and a set of magnetic slave bands equipped
with chains. The golden restraints were engraved with erotic images and
studded with emeralds for maximum barbaric glitter. He’d chained and collared
me as his grinning crew watched. I could only grind my teeth in rage, trying
to ignore the heat in my cunt.

Now Arles traced one finger down my torso, dipped suggestively into my navel,
and paused at the neatly trimmed edge of my bush. I managed not to squirm. “I
have a suspicion you’re wet,” he said, his voice dark and low. “Are you? Do I
arouse you, Gisel?” He laughed. “Odin knows you’ve made me hard and hot.”

His fingers dipped between my spread thighs. Both of us groaned at the slick,
tight flesh he found.

“Ripe,” Arles murmured. “Ripe as a peachango. Ready for my cock. Is that what
you want, Gisel?”

 

 

About the Author

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published
more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and
Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades,
Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their 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
LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. 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.

Author Contact Links

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

RELEASE BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: A Flash of Golden Fire by AE Lister

Title: A Flash of Golden Fire

Series: The Arrow and the Flame, Book One

Author: AE Lister

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/03/2025

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 337 PAGES

Genre: Historical Fantasy, action/adventure, age gap, BDSM, pirates, sailors, hurt/comfort, magic/magic-user, menage, foul-mouthed bird

Add to Goodreads

Description

Twenty-two-year-old Simon White begs for a place on Captain Dinesh Martin’s pirate ship, the Arrow. When he proves hilariously inadequate at most tasks, he finds himself in the captain’s quarters as cabin boy, housekeeper, and bed warmer.

Captain Martin used to be a British naval officer, until he became disenchanted with the hypocrisy, racism, and classism of the institution and embarked on a life of piracy. He runs an organized and efficient vessel and prides himself on the men with whom he surrounds himself. He is esteemed and admired, and he gives them as good a life as they’ve ever known.

But Simon has more than a few surprises up his sleeve, including some frightening powers, and Dinesh learns that sometimes a pretty appearance and amenable disposition can fool even an experienced man of the seas.

Excerpt

A Flash of Golden Fire
AE Lister © 2025
All Rights Reserved

Salvation

Port Royal, 1781

The sea smelt of salt and death.

The bustling port city on the southern shores of Jamaica ran with booty and blood. The Brethren of the Coast or, more familiarly, men of dubious employ, otherwise known as pirates, came to the city to trade the goods they had amassed at sea in questionable circumstances. Of course, there was honour among thieves and all of that, but there were also short tempers and ravenous appetites for more than food and good ale.

Food and ale…

I licked my cracked lips and huddled deeper into the threadbare jacket I’d pulled off a washing line an hour earlier. It was the only clean thing on me, in fact. My other garments were stained and filthy, like my frigid skin.

So far, this coastal town hadn’t fulfilled its imaginary promise of a fresh and welcome start. I’d left the town of my birth to embark on a new life, thinking that my luck might be better in Port Royal.

Born in Spanish Town to missionary parents, I had been orphaned at twelve, following a calamity that had left them dead, and I was lucky enough to have been taken in by a friend of my mother’s, who saw to it to educate and care for me as best he could. My life was decent, though dull, until the age of twenty-one when he died of yellow fever, and I was forced to look to my own means for survival. I should have found my own way before that advanced age, but Carago had enjoyed looking out for me, since his wife had died in birthing his only son, who had lived for three days before following her.

Perhaps my childlike attitude and spoilt sense of entitlement were due to Carago’s fatherly indulgences, although innocence had flown from me long before his passing.

So far, in Port Royal, I’d been attacked at knifepoint by a fearsome fellow the night after I’d arrived and also robbed of all my belongings but for a meagre allotment of coin that I’d hidden in my boot. He’d left me with a sore shoulder, a black eye, and a newfound respect for, and fear of, strange men.

In Spanish Town, my encounters with strange men had been more cordial, although nothing I would ever have described to Carago, who, to my bad luck, had held a similar attitude to those of my father and wider society. An unruly mop of red hair and a face full of freckles had ensured me a boyish countenance that I’d likely retain into middle age—God willing I got there to enjoy the benefit. Men liked the look of me, to be frank, and I hadn’t lacked for companionship, although only in brief, physical bursts that had still proved rewarding.

I’d heard of the Brethren of the Coast—supposedly a breed of men who’d taken to a life of piracy with a different kind of philosophy, holding themselves to a higher standard than the average swashbuckling vagabond. If these visionaries did, in fact, exist, and if I could find one of them and beg for a place aboard his ship, perhaps I could prove my worth and gain passage off this pisspot of an island. A life at sea was a much better prospect than one on land at this point, and I was ready for an adventure.

I ducked into a tavern called The Penny Whistle to get out of the rain that now came in torrents, but not before I became soaked to the skin and chilled further. Quite a sorry thing to be so adrift at twenty-two, bedraggled and wet and without prospects.

The tavern was warm, at least, and nobody turned me out. A fire roared and crackled in a large hearth, in front of which a motley group of strangely attired men were seated at tables, their attention captured by an imposing figure who stood with his elbow on the mantle as he regaled them with animated voice and gestures.

I slunk to a stool by the bar and sat, my stomach cramping as the scent of cooking food filled my nostrils. I soon found myself as transfixed as the others.

The man was everything a pirate captain ought to be.

He was of indefinable race—likely a mixture of at least two. He was exceptionally handsome in a way far beyond his physical appearance, which was unique and appealing. And he was an excellent orator, regaling his audience with honeyed words and dramatic cadence.

He wore the jacket of a British officer, although the item had seen years of wear, and the badges had been removed, or torn from the cloth. The garment looked fine on him and gave him a ruffled distinction. His shirt and breeches were navy issue as well. He looked more put together than his crew, who sported the mismatched garb of unaligned men of the sea. He had the accent of a British officer and the elocution of a magistrate.

The serving wench made her presence known, approaching the captain, laughing in the way women do when they want a man to think of them fondly. But as far as I could tell, her charms weren’t working upon him.

The crew was another matter.

“Oy, my darling, come here and perch on me knee awhile,” a heavyset fellow suggested, leering at the young woman and waggling his eyebrows.

“Now, now, Mister Denbrooke. What would your wife think?” the captain said with an indulgent smile.

“My wife, Captain Martin,” Mr Denbrooke said, “is probably spreading her ample thighs for the butcher and the baker at the moment. So she wouldn’t care a damn.”

Captain Martin. I’d been right in my supposition.

“Oh, go on,” the girl said and flounced to the bar where she frowned and pretended to be unaffected by the captain’s disinterest.

Everyone laughed and the captain grinned wider.

“Never was able to keep her satisfied,” Mr Denbrooke continued. “I’ve only got one cock, and she likes to have three at once.”

The men laughed and Captain Martin nodded.

“Hmm. Well, I can’t fault your wife for that,” he said.

The men laughed harder and some even hooted, and my foggy brain couldn’t keep up.

I concentrated on dealing with the hunger pangs that assailed me and rehearsed ways I could approach this formidable man who took up space with such entitled ease.

“Hello, my name is Simon White. I’d like a position on your ship.” Or, perhaps I should say, “Simon White here. You gotta place for me on board?” or “I’m strong and quick—when I’m fed, at least—Are you taking on crew?”

None of these were likely to get me what I needed, so I sat there, suffering, whilst they shoveled beef stew into their gobs and tore up whole loaves of bread to devour amongst themselves. My mouth became dry as I watched. What I wouldn’t do for an ale or even a paltry glass of water.

There were things I’d thought about doing. Things that men paid dearly for in the back alleys and the whorehouses. But I couldn’t bear the thought of trading an activity I enjoyed so much for food and drink or coin. I hadn’t gotten to a point so desperate to fall into that. If I could only get onto Captain Martin’s ship, I wouldn’t have to contemplate a life of whoredom.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

AE Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They write explicit, adult LGBTQ+ romance. They also write much less graphic Young Adult LGBTQ+ romance under Alison Lister.

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RELEASE BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Immortal Heat by Kira Stone

Title: Immortal Heat

Author: Kira Stone

Genres: Action Adventure, BDSM, Box Sets, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance

Themes: Alternative Universe, Dark Romance, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, LGBTQ+ Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Vampires

Book Length: Duet/Box Set

Page Count: 237

Synopsis

Three vampires battle the lives they left behind to build a future out of the ashes of their pasts.

Immortal Steps: Tain, a renowned Celtic dancer, has bitter memories of his first crush and the trainer who left him without a word. For years he’s flung himself from one brief romantic encounter to another, the subject of tabloid gossip and speculation, always insisting he’s not gay. When Kyle, Tain’s old mentor, comes back into Tain’s life, the last thing Tain wants is to give the man, or the vampire, a place in his heart.

Hidden Depths: Pat’s devoted his life to locating the wreck of The Pelican’s Flight, sunk in 1692, along with forty other ships, when the infamous town of Port Royal slid into the Caribbean. Jamie lost more than his lover when The Pelican went down. Pat offers Jamie hope at finding his ship, along with a chance at rediscovering love. Will the secrets they share bring them together? Or tear them apart?

Vampires In Heat: Humans in Seattle are dying as a result of domestic cat vampires and demonesses working together. The latest victim is Erron’s neighbor and best friend. Nolan, the leader of Seattle’s Pacifistic Vampire Clan, and Erron, an albino who is commonly mistaken for a vampire, team up with the cat vamp leader to find the rogues who are killing needlessly and trying to discredit vampire-kind. And just maybe, between them, they’ll find more than a remedy for this vampire scourge — like love!

Publisher’s Note: Immortal Steps, Vampires In Heat, and Hidden Depths have been previously published as stand alone novellas.

Excerpt

Immortal Heat
Kira Stone
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Kira Stone
Excerpt from Immortal Steps

Alone, Kyle Lohan entered his private balcony at the Grampian Theater in Edinburgh, Scotland. As he sat down, the house lights dimmed briefly to signal a two minute warning before the show began. The box smelled faintly of sex, although he doubted anyone without a vampire’s heightened senses could detect the erotic scent. Regardless, it was his own fault for sneaking in to watch rehearsals the previous evening. He’d been unable to resist tugging his cock in time with the heavy beat of the dancers as they practiced.

Okay, not all the performers excited him. Just one.

Tain O’Halloran.

Tonight Kyle had better prepared for the public performance, or so he’d thought. The quick release during his shower should have calmed his libido enough to sit through the performance without a hard-on. But as the first strains of a flute solo poured across the stage, the anticipation proved to be more than his body could resist and his cock rose to an aching fullness.

Tain. On stage. His stage.

How long had he waited for this? Worked for this? Dreamed of this? Sometimes it seemed like forever. And yet, very soon, the moment he’d been preparing for would arrive. One way or another, he would finally end his long pursuit.

He adjusted the fit of his tuxedo pants as the chorus sprinted across the stage. Their shoes hit the wooden floor in rhythmic, staccato beats, flirting with the notes. Kyle couldn’t stop his own feet from scuffing against the floor in a pale imitation of the dancers’ fancy footwork. Had his heart been prone to beat, it would have been racing as fast as the music.

A few more seconds…

Then, appearing out of a flash of light and smoke, bam! There he was. Tain O’Halloran. The male lead’s long, sleek black hair floated behind him as he bounced in perfect synchronization with the little blond at his side. His grey eyes flashed with pure joy and a little arrogance. A smile curved his thin pink lips. And what that black leather did for his ass…

Kyle groaned softly as his cock twitched with longing, but he refused to slake his lust. Privacy wasn’t an issue, even during a public performance. No, nothing mattered more than soaking up every moment of this night to tuck away in his memories. If the evening didn’t go as planned, this could be all he had left to remember the talented young man come morning.

The first dance ended, and Kyle felt the tightness in his chest ease as Tain exited stage right. He’d reappear several times throughout the performance.

Kyle itched with anticipation for the next time, and the next… and the next… By the second act, Kyle could pick out Tain’s unique sweat from the morass of odors permeating the air. The scent teased his cock like nothing else. His whole body tensed as he imagined jumping over the balcony’s rail to land on top of the dancer’s young bones, then fucking him to within an inch of his life, claiming him on stage for all the world to see.

Well, that’s one way to announce that you’re back in his life, Kyle thought with a rueful shake of his head. Definitely not one of your brightest ideas though.

If anything, such a bold, stupid move would get him thrown out of Tain’s life for good. Kyle’s goal was quite the opposite. If he had his way, nothing would separate him from Tain ever again.

The show ended with a roar of applause that pulled the dancers back on stage for a second encore. Vibrant and smiling under the lights, Tain looked like he could hold out for a third reprise if the director let him. However, the rest of the troupe wasn’t fairing as well, so when the curtains closed again the house lights came up.

The show was over, but Kyle’s performance of a lifetime was about to begin.

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Meet the Author

Kira Stone lives in a warm cave tucked away in the remote Scottish Highlands, where a small band of ever-changing heroes serves as company. As they relax in front of a roaring fire, demons dance in leather pants and angels stroke tunes from the harp strings, while the Fae stop in to share tales from other worlds. Bound by pen and imagination, these are the folk who wait to greet you from the pages of Kira’s stories. Visit Kira’s Website.

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RELEASE BLITZ: Frozen Heart by E.M. Shue

Title: Frozen Heart
Series: Tattoos & Sin
Author: E.M. Shue
Release: March 19, 2024
Genre/Tropes: Tough girl, Secret Identity, Tortured Past, BDSM, Afraid to Commit, Military, Bratva/Mafia

I was raised as the Las Vegas Bratva printsessa, but I fought that. I wanted to be my own woman, make my own way.

After joining the military and becoming an elite secret soldier, I thought my life was perfect, until it all came crashing down on me in a muddy alley.
It left me shattered to pieces.
My heart frozen to everyone, even my family.
I secluded myself from them all. To protect them and to protect myself.
Moving on with my life, I’ve found a way to make the broken pieces fit together. A way to feel pain and turn it into desire, even need. It enables me to permit a man to touch me finally without feeling revulsion.
A man that wants to fix me and thaw my heart, but I’m scared.
I jeopardized everything when I came out of the shadows to protect two women important to my brother and best friend. Not only does my family now know why I’m broken, but my enemy has found me.
Leif is willing to put me back together one lash at a time. No matter how long it takes but am I willing to get back into the battle and finally win this war.
Or will my heart always be frozen?

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RELEASE BLITZ: Safeword – Mayday by Candace Blevins #BDSM #Romance

 

Contemporary Romance (BDSM, kink)

Date Published: 06-21-2023

 

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Heather’s soul soars when she’s hang-gliding, skydiving,
kayaking, or piloting a helicopter during search and rescue missions.
She’s taken the term adrenaline junkie to a whole new level. However,
she’s never enjoyed sex and never had an orgasm.

Instead of giving up on her, Kyle, a long-time friend who convinces her to
be more, brings an experienced Dom in to help. Marcus explains she only
enjoys extreme sports, so she needs to try extreme sex since the normal kind
hasn’t worked. Marcus is all Dom, and helps Kyle bring Heather alive
sexually.

Just when Heather thinks she has everything figured out, she learns the
details of how it worked when the two men shared a girlfriend for years
while they were in college.

About the Author

Candace Blevins writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, contemporary BDSM
romance, and two kick-ass motorcycle club series. With more than sixty
published novels, Candace continues to create stories with strong women, and
she pulls from her vast knowledge of mythologies, ancient religions, and
history to create a paranormal world that fits neatly into our real
one.

She lives with her husband of twenty-five years and their youngest
daughter. Their oldest daughter has flown the nest, but frequently comes
home for visits. The family’s beloved, goofy, retired racing
greyhounds are usually at her side as she writes, quietly keeping her
company. Or sometimes not so quietly.

You can visit Candace on the web at candaceblevins.com and feel free to
friend her on Facebook at facebook.com/candacesblevins, TikTok at
tiktok.com/@candaceblevins, and Goodreads at goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins.
You can also join facebook.com/groups/CandacesKinksters to get sneak peeks
into what she’s writing now, images that inspire her, and the
occasional juicy teaser.

 

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RELEASE BLITZ: Hot Blood by A.E. Lister #BDSM #kink #LGBTQ @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Hot Blood

Series: The Braided Crop Ranch, Book Four

Author: AE Lister

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/07/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 50300

Genre: Contemporary, BDSM, pony play, kink, photographer, hurt/comfort, grief, public sex, voyeurism

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Description

Oliver Lambert has taken his photography skills and run with them. By the time he’s thirty, he’s made a name for himself and now has jobs whenever he needs them. He likes to be behind the camera, watching the world through a safe lens, protected from actually engaging with it.

An unexpected referral takes him somewhere he never expected—a kinky fetish ranch in the Muskokas, where men pay to play pony and trainers teach them how to behave.

Adam Marsland needs a visual record of the Braided Crop Ranch and it’s been a while since the website photographs were updated. When he’s given Oliver’s name, he immediately hires the man to come for the summer session to immerse himself in the ranch and its activities.

Oliver is out of his depth, but the challenge of photographing the beautiful men at the BCR is something he can focus on. Safe behind the lens of his camera, Oliver finds the ranch to be seductive and shocking. He can’t help admitting a fascination for the people who make the Braided Crop Ranch what it is.

But just because he knows how to take a great photo doesn’t mean he’s prepared for everything he encounters, especially when it comes to a recalcitrant ponyboy named Puck.

Contains: voyeurism, second-hand embarrassment, awkward conversations, a very introverted photographer, and several surprising developments, along with all the regular kink and pony play elements.

*Note: The timeline of Hotblood is prior to the events in Stable Hand but should be read either as the fourth book in the series or as a standalone.

Excerpt

Hot Blood
AE Lister © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Editing digital photos to make fruits and vegetables appear perfectly ripe, juicy, and seductive was not where I thought my life would end up.

When I’d chosen photography as the focus of my fine arts degree at the University of Waterloo in Southern Ontario, I had imagined somewhat more exciting subject matter. But most of my assignments these days involved long hours spent hunched on my elbows in the dirt, taking alluring shots of farm produce.

On my very fancy and expensive computer monitor, a ray of morning sunlight bounced off the red skin of a plump tomato. I’d tried several filters and a range of exposures to get it just right, but something wasn’t working.

I clicked on another set of tools and looked for a different approach. While I perused the list, my phone pinged from where it lay on the desk.

I glanced at the screen to see a text from an unknown number:

Mr. Lambert, is it OK if I give you a call in a few moments? My name is Adam Marsland. I was given your name and contact info by Jaden Stevenson. I’m looking for a photographer.

Since referrals had gotten me to where I was in my life at the moment—a recognized purveyor of outstanding photographic interpretations of reality—I texted Mr. Marsland back immediately.

Of course. Give me five minutes.

I input Adam Marsland as a contact and stood from my chair. My neck cracked when I stretched it to the side, and again when I repeated the motion in the other direction. I was only thirty years old, but sitting in one position for too long was bad for anyone. I reached my arms up and over my head, feeling the pull in my muscles.

Moving into the kitchen of my small condo on Toronto’s East Side, I grabbed a tumbler, pressed the button on my fridge for cold water, and watched the stream of liquid splash into the glass. It would be fortuitous if Mr. Marsland could offer me a contract for some images. I was booked up until mid-June but, after that, things looked a bit sparse.

I carried my drink to the living room window and gazed out on the city. Living on the fifteenth floor afforded me the luxury of a stunning view, even if the square footage was small. At least the finishes and upgrades in this unit were of the highest quality and done according to the latest trends. I’d been able to furnish the tiny apartment with quality pieces, like the Eames chair and a tan leather love seat from West Elm, since I didn’t need many.

When my ringtone sounded, I walked back to my desk, put the glass down, and pressed the answer button, remaining on my feet since I’d been sitting for the past hour and a half.

“Mr. Marsland,” I said.

“Mr. Lambert. Good afternoon. How are you today?”

“Fine, thanks. What can I do for you?” I asked, taking a sip from my glass.

Mr. Marsland cleared his throat, and I heard the click of a pen. “I’m hoping you can come to my ranch and take some photos for me. You come highly recommended.”

I smiled, because it was always nice to hear that. “Thanks. Jaden mentioned me?”

“Yes. He thinks you’d be perfect for what we need.”

“I’m pretty booked up at the moment. What time frame are we looking at?”

“I’d need you to spend part of the summer here, if you’re available, and interested. You’ll be compensated well and we can put you in a room at the main house during your stay.”

Perfect.

“I do have most of the summer free at the moment. Are you talking three weeks? Six?”

Papers rustled on Mr. Marsland’s end. “Six weeks. From mid-July to the end of August.”

I walked back to my computer and put the glass down beside it. “And I’d be photographing horses? Riders? The landscape, too, I suppose?”

There was a pause, and he laughed. “We’re not that kind of ranch, Mr. Lambert.”

I narrowed my eyes at the red tomato that had tortured me with its saucy round form all morning. Mr. Marsland’s comment intrigued me.

“Call me Oliver. And what exactly do you mean?”

“The name of my…business…is the Braided Crop Ranch. We’re really a club, of sorts, with a resort hotel on the premises.”

Hmm. “Oh. And you offer riding as part of the resort experience?”

Mr. Marsland laughed. “No. No riding. Only ponies.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a bit confused about—”

“We’re a fetish ranch, Oliver. Pony play. Human ponies. In leather harnesses and other…accoutrements.”

I blinked quickly, my eyes flitting from the tomato to the glass of water on my desk as my mouth went dry.

“Oh. I see.”

Holy… That was not where I thought this conversation was going. A fetish ranch? My mind conjured up bizarre images of people in horse costumes. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

Adam laughed again. “Look, why don’t I text you the link to our website, where we have some older images, and you can call me back if you’re interested. And just text me a ‘No, thanks’ if you’re not.”

That…made sense. My mind reeled from the information but also honed in razor-sharp on the fact that this would be a very different assignment from anything I’d done in the past.

“All right. That sounds fine.”

“I hope to hear from you within the next hour. But if I don’t, no harm, no foul. What we’d be looking for are updated, artistic images for the website and our brochures—maybe a selection of shots to sell in our gift shop. Have a look, and if you think you can work with us, call me back. At any rate, it was great to speak with you, Oliver.”

“Same, Mr. Marsland.”

“Adam. Please.”

“Okay. Thanks, Adam. I’ve got your text, so I’ll have a look.”

“Excellent. Hope to speak to you soon.”

I closed the call and clicked the link in the text from Adam. My browser opened, and a “Welcome” page loaded.

The Braided Crop Ranch scrolled in elegant but readable script overtop an idyllic scene of what looked like a regular farmhouse and barns in a woodland setting. Then a warning window popped up, informing me I had to be eighteen or older to enter the site.

Hmm. Well, I was thirty, so I clicked it.

Welcome to the Braided Crop Ranch.

A fetish farm for pony play enthusiasts…

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Meet the Author

AE Lister/Elizabeth Lister is a Canadian non-binary author with a vivid imagination and a head full of unique and interesting characters. They have published many other books, one of which (Beyond the Edge) received an Honorable Mention from the National Leather Association–International for excellence in SM/Leather/Fetish writing.

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RELEASE BLITZ: Music From Stone by Brenda Murphy #LGBTQ #ContemporaryRomance #BDSM @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Music from Stone

Series: University Square, Book Four

Author: Brenda Murphy

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/05/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 67900

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, Romance, contemporary, family-drama, BDSM, interracial, lesbian, stone mason, concert pianist, stalker, PTSD, over 40, performance arts, visual arts

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Description

Celebrated concert pianist Nüwa Zhou had it all. Until she didn’t. Forced out of the closet while testifying at the kidnapping and murder trial of her obsessive former assistant turned stalker, she retires from the high-pressure world of performing to recover at her parents’ estate.

Stone mason, and frustrated sculptor Julia Johnson, spends her days stone building walls and patios while dreaming of quitting her day job.

After a chance encounter with Julia leads to more, Nüwa imagines a life with Julia. When her stalker returns, determined to kidnap Nüwa and end anyone who stands in his way, Nüwa will do whatever it takes to keep Julia safe, but will it be enough?

Excerpt

Music from Stone
Brenda Murphy © 2022
All Rights Reserved

“Who is Father talking to?” Nüwa Zhou stared out of the sliding door at the woman standing on the terrace, her short auburn hair a mass of curls that brushed the tops of her broad shoulders. Her stance was confident. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt tight enough it drew Nüwa’s attention, she rested her hands on her hips across from Gerald Zhou. Her wide shoulders and sculpted arms tested the limits of the fabric of her shirt. Afforded the opportunity to stare openly, Nüwa savored the view, admiring the curves the woman’s loose jeans failed to conceal. Slightly taller than Nüwa’s father in her thick-soled work boots, the woman glanced back at the house. Nüwa held steady, confident the reflective window coating would hide her gawking.

“Former student. Inquiring about the cottage,” her mother called from the kitchen bar.

Nüwa tugged the belt of her robe tighter. “Early for a meeting.”

The not-so-subtle sound of her mother’s scoff drifted across the kitchen. Nüwa rested her chin on her chest. The unspoken scolding for sleeping late pricked Nüwa’s heart. A night owl born to a family of larks. Her sleep patterns had been her curse since childhood.

She lifted her gaze back to the scene outside.

Gerald Zhou stood close to the woman, occasionally gesturing to the yard and the firethorn maze covering the lower half of their estate. Wind pushed dark heavy clouds across the sky and a gust rattled the sliding door in its dull aluminum frame. He turned and pointed to the house. Nüwa stepped back and away from the glass into the shadows of the living room. She walked to the counter dividing the kitchen from the rest of the house.

“Have you eaten?” Her mother glanced up from her laptop screen.

Nüwa took a breath and blew it out. “Not hungry.”

A frown creased her mother’s sculpted eyebrows. “Don’t forget to eat.” Her gaze shifted to the window. “Your father needs to wrap it up. I don’t like the color of the sky.”

Nüwa perched on one of the stools at the counter and glanced at the sky. A green hue tinged the dark clouds. “It’s ugly.”

Fat drops of rain hit the glass as the peal of a weather warning spit out of her mother’s ever-present phone. Nüwa’s stomach twisted as adrenaline surged in her body. Storms were the worst. Lightning flashed. Nüwa placed her hands flat on the counter and started counting silently.

“Four. Not far away.”

The click of the computer keys increased. “I need to get these figures to Rowan.” Her mother continued to pound the keyboard as another flash of lightning lit up the kitchen with a sick yellow glare.

The skin on Nüwa’s arms prickled. The grate of the sliding door in its tracks sounded in the room a second before a crash of thunder rattled the house.

“Three.” Nüwa turned to the sliding door. “It’s moving toward us.”

“It’s crazy out there. Wait it out with us.” Gerald touched the arm of the woman from the terrace. “You remember my wife, Lian Tan? I don’t think you’ve met my daughter. Nüwa, this is Julia.”

“Hi Ms. Tan, nice to see you again. Nice to meet you, Nüwa.” Julia inclined her head to greet Nüwa’s mother before she turned and met Nüwa’s gaze.

Nüwa stared at Julia, the thin wet fabric of the T-shirt even more distracting now Julia was standing in front of her. “You’re wet.” Her face burned as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I mean—” She scrambled around the end of the counter, snatched a clean dish towel from the basket next to the sink. “Here.” Nüwa held the towel out with both hands.

The tips of Julia’s fingers brushed the back of Nüwa’s hand as she took the towel from her. “Thank you.” She held Nüwa’s gaze for a moment, the hint of a smile twisting her lips before she dried her face.

Nüwa studied the tops of her house shoes and knotted her hands together as an awkward silence sucked the ease out of the moment. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself, knowing she was acting weird, helpless to stop it.

The faint sound of a tornado siren spared Nüwa further torment.

“Basement.” Lian stood, tucked her laptop and a thick folder under her arm, before she walked to the end of the counter. She pressed the series of buttons under the countertop. The end of the cabinet slid aside revealing a stairwell. Gerald followed Lian.

Nüwa slid off the stool and followed her parents down the stairs leading to the storm cellar. She ducked her head as she entered the stairway. “Watch your head,” Nüwa called over her shoulder.

Heavy tread on the stairs behind her and the faint scent of lavender and sunscreen tickled Nüwa’s nose as Julia followed her to the safe room. Halfway down the steps, the lights flickered out, plunging the stairwell and room below into blackness.

“Damn it. Gerald, where did you put the lantern?”

“Use your phone.”

“Left it on the counter, and didn’t we talk about this? Use your phone.”

Her parents shifted their bickering to Mandarin. Nüwa prayed Julia didn’t understand as they devolved into one of their ongoing arguments.

Nüwa extended her hand behind her, and her fingers bushed the soft denim of Julia’s jean. “Take my hand. Stay close. The stairs turn here.”

Julia clasped her hand. Her broad callused palm rested against Nüwa’s hand. Nüwa led Julia down the stairs and toward the sound of her parents arguing. As they reached the bottom of the stairs the harsh light of an electric lantern flared to life, throwing twisted shadows over the walls.

Gerald closed off the door leading to the rest of the basement, sealing them in the long narrow windowless room. “There. Nüwa, lock the door behind you.”

Nüwa threw the deadbolt and sealed the door leading up to the kitchen.

Lian stood at the far end of the room, the glower on her face matching the ferocity of the storm. Arms crossed, she lifted her chin as she observed Nüwa and Julia. Her gaze landed squarely on their clasped hands.

Julia squeezed Nüwa’s hand once, then released it. “Thank you.”

Lian turned away from Nüwa, picked up a yellow wireless radio, and shoved it into Gerald’s hands. “Get the weather radio working.”

The echo of hail pelting the house increased in volume and drowned out Gerald’s reply. A roaring sound filled Nüwa’s ears, a steady hum. The hairs on her arm stood on end. Pressure in her ears increased to the point of pain and she swallowed, trying to clear them.

The ceiling over their head creaked and groaned as the vibration intensified. The house shook, rattling the shelves holding the food and water they kept stored in the small room. Nüwa wrapped her arms around herself to stop her trembling. Cans of food vibrated off the shelves and crashed to the floor, wrenching a cry from her, and she covered her eyes.

A warm hand settled on the middle of her back. Nüwa jerked away from the touch and bit down on her lip to stifle her yelp. The roaring increased, as if a train was bearing down on them. Nüwa dropped to her knees, covered her head with her arms, and folded herself into the smallest ball possible. The thin carpet over the concrete did nothing to ease her knees and sharp pain lanced through her. Her breathing was rough in her ears as her fear turned in on itself and drove every other thought from her mind. In the space of seconds, the patter of the hail softened, and the roaring stopped, leaving a heavy silence behind.

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Meet the Author

Brenda Murphy (she/her) writes erotic romance. Her most recent novel, Double Six, is the 2020 Golden Crown Literary Society winner for Erotic Novels, and Knotted Legacy, the third book in the Rowan House series, made the 2018 The Lesbian Review’s Top 100 Vacation Reads list. You can catch her musings on writing, books, and living with wicked ADHD on her blog Writing While Distracted. She loves sideshows and tattoos and yes, those are her monkeys. When she is not loitering at her local library, she wrangles twins, one dog, and an unrepentant parrot

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Boundaries by AJ Graham #BDSM #DarkFantasy #PNR

Sacrifices of the body cannot compare with the ecstasy that comes from sacrifices of the heart.

Bound by Blood: For centuries, sacrificial offerings have kept peace between humans and the immortal Kin who feed on their blood. When his sister is chosen, Daniel offers himself in her place. Daniel has grown up believing the Kin to be heartless monsters. He never imagined the Kin lord’s touch would stir hiss body and heart, would make him crave the very thing he’d always feared: the sweet, sharp burn of fangs in his neck.

Bound by Desire: Keelie al’Trega marries Lord Kalen to secure peace between their two planets. Then she learns the terrible truth — becoming his mate will create an unbreakable psychic bond between them, a bond so intense and powerful that it can drive a person insane. Is Kalen worth the risk?

No Shame: Paul’s never told anyone about his fantasies of being spanked and flogged, until he meets Kade — a sensual, experienced man who offers to fulfill his every hidden desire. But Paul soon realizes that he might be in over his head…

Flesh and Spirit: Rose has always dreamed of serving Kalia, the goddess of healing and pleasure. But in order to become a priestess, she has to complete a ritual in which she casts aside all inhibitions and enters a trance of sexual ecstasy. Gabe and Rafe are more than happy to help her complete her Initiation. But can Rose handle what they have in mind?

Publisher’s Note: Boundaries (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Bound by Blood, Bound by Desire, No Shame, and Flesh and Spirit.

Available Today at Changeling Press

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Praise for Bound by Blood

“A very enjoyable read.”

4.5 Diamonds — S. K. Fero, Got Erotic Romance! Reviews

“[the author] has created an amazing saga packed with social truths, emotions and spectacular lovemaking.”

5 Nymphs — Chocolate Minx, Literary Nymphs

Praise for Bound by Desire

“If you like classic romance plots and have been missing the virgin/arranged marriage stories in erotic novels, this book is definitely for you.”

— Elizabeth Charles, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 AJ Graham
Excerpt from
 Bound by Blood

Daniel sat upright in the saddle, wrists bound, as his horse plodded forward. The coarse ropes chafed his skin, and fear twisted his guts into knots, but he kept his face calm and expressionless. He would hold onto his dignity, he promised himself, no matter what happened. It was all he had left.

Moonlight silvered the leaves of the forest as the procession rode single file down the narrow path. A guard rode behind him, and another in front to keep him from running away. They needn’t have worried. He did not intend to escape. If he did, his sister would suffer in his place.

He tried not to think of what awaited him at the end of the path. Instead, he thought of Sara safe and alive, baking bread with their mother, riding her favorite mare through the fields, picking wildflowers.

The procession stopped in a large, round clearing. Daniel’s two escorts dismounted. They were both men from the village, men he knew. They wouldn’t look him in the eye. Tom — the village baker — looked around, the whites of his eyes flashing like those of a frightened horse. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “They’ll be here any minute,” he muttered.

“Aye,” replied Ben, the other escort. He glanced over his shoulder at Daniel, looked down, shook his head, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I tell you, Tom, I hate this arrangement. It ain’t right, offering our young men and women to these blood-suckers. Sometimes I think it was better in the old days, when we hunted –“

“Shhh! You want them to hear you?”

“They can’t hear us,” he said, irritation creeping into his voice. “They aren’t here yet.”

“You don’t know that,” Tom shot back. “One of ’em could be standing right next to you, and you wouldn’t know it unless he spoke.” He glared at Ben. “None of us like this arrangement, but it’s the only way. In the old days, people died. The offerings keep things peaceful. Keeps the blood-suckers from our village. As for the offerings… well, it’s the price we pay. It’s not like they kill them.”

“No.” Ben lowered his voice even more, but Daniel could still make out the words. “But what they do to them is probably worse.”

“Hush!”

Daniel’s hands clenched, nails pressing into his palms. “It’s all right,” he said. Despite his efforts to keep his voice steady, it trembled. “I’m not afraid.” It was a lie, and they all knew it. Ben and Tom exchanged guilty glances.

They waited. Daniel’s ears caught the thump of approaching hoof beats. He tensed.

At the edge of the clearing, a black horse emerged from the shadows. It was huge, muscular; its coat sleek and glossy. The rider wore dark, close-fitting trousers, which showed off his long, lean legs, and his black cloak billowed in the wind. Beneath it was a tight shirt of black leather, molded to the contours of his body. He was slender but hard, all sculpted muscle, his abdomen flat and trim. His skin was white, as if it had never seen sunlight… and he was stunningly, unnervingly beautiful, as beautiful as a woman, though it was impossible to mistake him for one. A breeze ruffled his short hair, which gleamed a pale silver, like moonlight on water. And his eyes…

Daniel’s heartbeat quickened as he stared into those ruby eyes. He had never seen one of the Kin face to face. That pale face was as cold and expressionless as a statue’s. There was no trace of feeling in those blood-red eyes. They flicked over the two cowering escorts, then focused on Daniel.

“Is this the offering?” The Kin lord’s voice was deep and full. It seemed to reverberate in the pit of Daniel’s stomach, in the marrow of his bones.

Tom took a deep breath and straightened. “Yes, my lord.”

“I was told that the offering this year would be a young woman.”

Tom glanced at Daniel and cleared his throat. “Aye, that was the intent. But this young man — Daniel — volunteered to take the place of his sister.”

Silver brows lifted. He looked at Daniel. “Is this true?”

Daniel swallowed. “Yes.” His voice sounded very small.

“How old are you, Daniel?”

“Twenty.”

For a long moment, the Kin lord stared at him. That ruby gaze held him immobile. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He felt as though those eyes could see straight into his head, as if they were examining every particle of his soul, weighing and measuring unseen qualities. At last, the man nodded. “Very well. Unbind his hands and let him dismount.”

With shaking hands, Tom unbound Daniel’s wrists. Daniel dismounted. His heart knocked like a fist against his chest as he walked toward the huge, black horse and the silver-haired man. He looked over his shoulder, but Tom and Ben would not meet his gaze.

“You two may go,” the silver-haired man said. “Take his horse with you. He won’t need it.”

Still avoiding Daniel’s gaze, they turned their horses and walked them out of the clearing. Daniel’s mare followed. He took a deep breath and approached the Kin lord.

Ruby eyes stared down at him. The man stretched out a hand. Daniel took it — the skin was smooth as marble — and the Kin lord pulled him onto the horse. Daniel gasped. There was no saddle. He gripped the horse with his thighs.

“Hold on to me,” said the Kin lord.

Daniel hesitated, then placed his hands gingerly on the man’s shoulders.

“Not like that.” There was a touch of gentle amusement in his voice. “Put your arms around my waist.”

Daniel bit his lower lip. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around that dagger-slim waist. His chest pressed against the man’s hard back. The Kin lord gave his mount a light tap with his heels. The horse snorted, tossed its head, and began to walk.

“My name is Vale, but you may address me as Master.”

“Yes, Master,” Daniel said quietly.

Vale looked over his shoulder. His crimson eyes reflected Daniel’s face. There were no discernable pupils, just two solid, ruby disks that seemed to burn with their own inner light. “You volunteered to take your sister’s place, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Daniel hesitated. “She’s younger than me by four years. She’s in love with a man whom she’s planning to marry one day. And my parents adore her. The whole village adores her. So do I. She’s always treated me with more kindness than anyone else. When she was chosen as the offering, everyone was devastated. I could not bear to think of her being taken away from all those who love her.” He remembered the moment of sinking dread as a village elder had read Sara’s name from the scrap of paper he’d drawn, blindfolded, from a wooden box.

“And you? Will they not be devastated by your loss, as well?”

Self-conscious, Daniel dropped his gaze. “I…”

“Look at me.”

Daniel looked up and met those cool, expressionless eyes. “No, Master, they won’t miss me much.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

AJ Graham has a passion for cold weather, unusual beers, and anything otherworldly.  Dragons, demons, shapeshifters and psychics have always populated their imagination, but sometimes the real world can be just as fascinating and mysterious.  And no matter the genre, AJ has always loved stories about soulmates connecting.  Whether it’s instant, explosive passion or a slow burn, the power of two (or more) minds and bodies coming together to form a greater whole is always a story worth telling.  AJ lives in the Chicago suburbs with their husband.

NEW RELEASE: Kitten’s Playdate (Daddy Dom Erotica) by Wanda Violet O. #erotica #kindleunlimited

Daddy takes such good care of his Kitten. He even brings me a playmate just to brighten my day. But Max is more than just a partner to play with. He’s supposed to be another layer of protection for me in the form of a sensual pet. Trouble is, Max has been badly damaged. But I think I can heal him.

The question is, can Max be what I need, or will Daddy need to make some adjustments?

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Daddy Dom Erotica short story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of paranormal heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

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ABOUT WANDA VIOLET O

Welcome to Wanda Violet O.’s world of bedtime fantasy, where you’ll find a variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play… she’s got it all. Come take a look for yourself!