SPOTLIGHT: Jack-O-Lanterns (multi-author box set) #BDSM #Halloween #DarkFantasy #PNR

Spotlight: Jack-O-Lanterns (Box Set) (Jack-O-Lanterns Multi-Author 12)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Halloween nightmares & flying broomsticks… It’s All Hallows Eve and you can’t stop the party for long!

Cat Out of Hell by Isabella Jordan — Joey makes Katrina feel things she’s never felt before. But will either of them escape this Halloween nightmare alive?

Headless Horseman by Marteeka Karland — One too many Flying Broomsticks and a phobia about Halloween aren’t the only things chasing Isabelle Crane into the darkness…

Voodoo Queen by Lia Connor — When Paul comes to check Marie out will he wind up in her bed? It’s Halloween in New Orleans, and you can’t stop the party for long!

Raven by Willa Okati — On All Hallows’ Eve Leonard comes to Andrew for their yearly tryst. Trouble is, one of them’s a ghost, and can’t stay longer than midnight…

Good Weds Evil by Kate Hill — Trapped between heaven and hell, Evangeline and Urbane have only each other. Forever.

Witch of Alloway by Marie Treanor — When notorious rock star Tam returns to his home village for a special Hallowe’en gig, it’s more than the dead Annie raises!

All Dressed Up by Ashlynn Monroe — Will Isaac be willing to share his wife with two demons?

Kuro by Ana Raine — When Preston saves a black cat everything he knows about life and demons is going to be questioned.

Like The Stars by Jonathan Wright — A vampire will seduce you with detached casualness, but a Lycan will fight to the death to keep you.

Get it at Changeling Press

Also Available in Paperback

 

Praise for The Headless Horseman 

“If you like your erotica galloping fast, then Marteeka Karland’s Jack-O-Lantern: The Headless Horseman is just what you need. It’s light and humorous in all the right places. A fitting read for the season.”

— TMC Reviews

 

Praise for Raven

“Willa Okati delivers another… stunner with volcanic m/m intimacy which sears the pages.”

5 Hearts! — Annie, The Romance Studio

 

Praise for Good Weds Evil

“Incendiary passion burns up this Jack-O-Lantern and makes it a heavenly treat for Halloween.”

Multiple O’s! — Isabelle Spencer, Romance Reviews Today

 

 

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Isabella Jordan
Excerpt from Cat Out of Hell

Joey grinned from his seat at the bar as he looked around the smoke-filled room. The biker at the bar he’d visited in the last town had given him some good advice. This place really was something different. A wild party where a guy had a good chance of getting laid. Just what he was looking for.

It wasn’t yet midnight and the party was in full swing. Beer and whiskey flowed, the crowd was a nightmarish sea of masked and painted faces. After doing a double take, Joey realized he was the only one who wasn’t dressed up for Halloween.

And I’m in a town called Hell. How was that for his first Halloween as a free man?

Two people were already fucking in a booth near the back, a guy dressed like a Roman soldier and a woman dressed like a naughty nurse. There was another couple next to him, dressed as a devil and his beautiful angel, and from the look on the guy’s red painted face, they appeared to be ready to get it on. Until the devil noticed Joey sitting there.

Following the line of his gaze, the angel turned in her seat to gaze at Joey.

Damn, she was beautiful. Unlike many of the bar’s costumed patrons, she wasn’t wearing a wig or a hat. Just a wire and tinsel halo hovering over long, blonde hair so pale it looked silver. Her skin was creamy white, and a lot of it was visible in the filmy white costume she wore. The tops of her full breasts were revealed by what there was of a bodice and it had his cock throbbing beneath the small table where he sat.

Beautiful, clear blue eyes met his. She liked what she saw too, but the raw lust he felt wasn’t mirrored in her eyes. No, there was something else…

Joey never noticed the devil ease over to his table as he stared at her.

“Do you like angel food cake, my friend?” The man’s voice was a harsh whisper in his ear.

So he was her pimp?

Regardless, Joey loved the thought of fucking her. The physical cravings that had been chemically induced by the men who’d created him, half man and half leopard, and kept him a prisoner for so many years, had lessened to an extent. It was tolerable now. Things had been so easy when he was still with Alex. Sharing the lovely reporter they’d initially kidnapped, without any sort of commitment, just to appease the nagging ache in his loins, had been ideal. It had been Alex who’d fallen for the beautiful blonde.

Something about this little angel reminded Joey of her, of Casey. The thought of having the beauty in front of him in bed made his mouth water.

“Maybe,” Joey finally answered.

“Our little angel will spread her wings for you,” the man’s voice droned on close to his ear. “For the right price.”

Her gaze shifted to the devil at his ear and back.

“What’s the right price?” Joey wanted to know.

 

 

 

Flog Me, Sir by Lynn Burke #MF #BDSM #Billionaire #Romance #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke

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Flog Me, Sir

by Lynn Burke

#MF #BDSM #Billionaire #Romance

BLURB

He offers freedom.

She fears addiction.

Can Garret coax Lissa to submit to his desire to pleasure her through pain, or will it be her needs that bring him to his knees?

GET YOUR COPY TODAY!

➣ Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/FLOGMESIR
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SALE SALE SALE

Get the first book in the series for ONLY .99 Cents for a limited time! Grab it before the price goes up!

#99cents #JordanAndHisLove #NatalieAndHerSir #BDSM #HEA #BillionaireRomance

BLURB

Jordan knows everyone wants to use him for his family name and wealth.

Natalie is forced to take on the heavy responsibility of a troublesome sibling.

Can Natalie prove to Jordan that the only thing she wants from him is his love and dominance? Or will a misunderstanding cause Jordan to lose the submissive of his dreams?

************************

GRAB YOUR .99 CENT COPY OF BIND ME, SIR HERE:

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Bind me 99c

ABOUT LYNN BURKE

Lynn Burke is a full-time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

As a voracious reader herself, Lynn appreciates all of her readers, and hopes she can take them on a journey with her writing.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

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The Master Arrives by Julia Talbot #BDSM #romancebooks #NewRelease #LGBT @juliatalbot

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Kane loves his job waiting tables at Club Endless, but even though he’s a sub, he never dates the Doms from work. A bad relationship and a tendency to rush into things has left him cautious, which is why he’s so surprised at his reaction to Master Jess.

Jess is bored and a little jaded, thinking maybe he might let his membership to Club Endless lapse. Then he sees Kane in a whole new light, asking the young sub out on a date away from the club. Kane doesn’t want to rush into things, but they seem meant to be — if they can just get past Kane’s fear of picking the wrong man.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

 

or pre-order at retailers for September 27th

 

   

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Julia Talbot

Jessup Halliday felt… old. Far older than his thirty-six years.

The entry to Club Endless was still timeless black and chrome and the hostess who took his membership card was young and sleek in a black sequined sheath and heels. Her hose even had seams up the back, marching in a straight line. Perfect in every way.

He was a founding member of Club Endless, and while it had changed with the times, it was as amazing as it had been when it first opened, while managing to stay current.

So why was he feeling… jaded?

He sighed. Maybe he needed to let his membership go dormant for a while. Write it off as a contribution or something. Take a long vacation in Italy. He loved Rome. Or maybe the coast.

Mmm. Italy. Yes, that was just the ticket.

He knew he’d hit on the perfect idea after the hostess slid his membership card, then headed for the dining room.

“Good evening, Master Halliday.” The server, one of his favorites, led him to a table. “Italian tonight.”

“Yum. Northern or Southern?”

“You have several choices. Shall I tell you, or would you prefer to read the menu?” Kane held out his chair.

“Oh, I think you should tell me. I do love your voice.”

Kane blinked, then beamed at him. “Let me get your water, and I’ll be pleased to recite them.”

It amazed Jess, really, how little it took to make people happy. He needed to remember that, and stop wallowing in his ennui.

Kane was back in a flash, laying out his water and silverware, which was all polished impeccably. “There now. Are you ready, Sir?”

“I am.” He sat back, watching Kane’s mouth as he spoke,

“Very good. For primi, we have risotto al funghi, polenta with caramelized fennel and onions, or cacio e pepe. Do you need any ingredient lists?”

“Mmm, no. They all sound lovely.”

“They all smell amazing.” Kane chuckled. “For secondi, we have veal saltimbocca, bistecca Fiorentina, or baccala alla vicentina, served with an arugula salad and garlic toasts.”

So, rice with mushrooms, corn grits with fennel, or pasta with oil and pepper. Normally didn’t indulge in veal, so it was the steak or the salted cod cooked with milk and anchovies… Hmm. “I’ll have the risotto and the baccala, I think.”

“Brave! I haven’t been able to make myself try the fish.”

He tilted his head, almost certain he was being flirted with, which was new from Kane. “You’ll have to try mine.”

“Oh!” Kane blushed. “Thank you, Sir. Let me get that order in for you. Do you care for soup or grissini?”

“The breadsticks, please. I went without lunch today.” Suddenly the club seemed shinier. Not new, and not better than Italy, but he did like when a beautiful boy batted eyelashes at him. He truly did.

“Wine? There’s a lovely Chianti, or a pinot grigio.”

“The pinot grigio, I think, for the fish.”

“Right away.”

He didn’t bother to ask about the wines. Their sommelier, Grant, was something of a genius.

Jess closed his eyes, listening to the gentle clink of flatware on plates, the soft music that never managed to make anyone raise their voices to be heard over it. The murmur of conversation ran over him like water, the tables arranged so no voice ever carried too far or intruded on another table.

It was damnably lonely.

“Jess! Hey, buddy. Mind if I sit?” Deacon Calhoun stood next to his table when he opened his eyes, the big Dom looking very snazzy in gray slacks and a blue silk shirt.

“Not at all.” He liked Deacon very much. “No Geoff tonight?”

“He’s preparing for a scene. We’re giving a spanking demo tonight.”

“Ah. No dinner for him.”

“Exactly. He’s having some quiet time and some broth, but I want some red meat, I think.”

“By all means, then. I hear there’s steak Florentine.”

Deacon sank into a chair. “What little bird told you that?”

“Kane is on tonight.”

Head tilting, Deacon stared at him for long seconds. “Have you taken him as a lover recently?”

“What? No. No, in fact I was thinking of taking a hiatus, maybe a vacation. Paris. Rome. I feel… worn.”

“Oh.” Deacon sat back. “I’m sorry. Something about your expression when you mentioned Kane…”

“Master Deacon. How are you this evening?” Kane handed Deacon a menu. “Here are the specials tonight. May I bring you some water?”

“Please.” Deacon smiled at Kane, and was given a gentle curl of lips in return.

Huh. Maybe he was getting flirted with. Kane certainly didn’t offer to read the menu to Deacon.

“Be right back.” Kane gave him a smile that was completely different, and Jess couldn’t help but feel it deep in his belly.

He’d been so… disinterested in everything, and he couldn’t have imagined it would be someone so familiar to him who might spark that bit of desire. Not that Kane wasn’t lovely. He drew glances with his silver gilt hair and gray eyes, his form lithe, almost delicate. Men, and probably women, would write poetry about such a beautiful boy.

“You know he’s between Masters, right?”

 

More from Julia at Changeling Press …

Julia Talbot lives in the great Southwest, where she’s embraced hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full time author, Julia believes everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved.

Website: http://juliatalbot.com

Blog: http://caferisque.blogspot.com

 

 

Indulge Me (Wanna Be Bad) by Tina Donahue #RomanceBooks #NewRelease #Contemporary @tinadonahue @evernightpub

Indulge Me-complete

 

Nothing forbidden…nothing held back.

Lissa prefers reading to cutting loose, but is willing to do whatever it takes to get the juiciest assignments for her job at a major travel magazine. Her chance finally arrives. She’s set to experience a posh Caribbean resort, a dream article and review except for one huge problem. It’s the anything goes theme week where nudity is expected and lusty hook-ups make threesomes look downright tame. Holy Hell. What has she gotten herself into?

Precisely what resort owner Jon Thorne thinks. Tall, dark, and luscious, he fears the randy male guests will eat her alive, resulting in a lousy review. His only option is to serve as her guide for every decadent delight from nude body painting to Dom’s Den where submission and punishment rule. Unless she wants to call the whole thing off…

And lose her chance with him, plus give up this gig? Dream on. Tempted beyond anything she’s known, she matches his passion and then some, surprising him during a sexy adventure like no other.

Teaser 5 - INDULGEME

 

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Teaser 1 - INDULGEME

 

A LITTLE TEASE…

“The writer from the travel magazine is here.”

“Send him in.”

“Ah … okay.”

Her hesitation surprised him.

His door opened.

Shelby entered first, model tall and slender, dressed in a light green sheath that complemented her long, blonde hair. Her pretty face could have graced a teen magazine, the faint freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks adding to her youthful appearance.

She stepped aside.

A young woman stood behind her, her hair shoulder-length and partially pulled back. Several tresses hung free from her ponytail. The chestnut color proved rich, a contradiction to her pale complexion.

While her clothing…

Her loose-fitting beige pants and long-sleeved white top weren’t on par with the “anything goes” theme week, but the extensive material didn’t completely hide her curves.

He dragged his gaze back up to her glasses. They gave her an intelligent and serious vibe that also didn’t belong on this island.

She regarded the tan marble and gold trimming in here, graceful eyebrows arching.

The opulence was more than he preferred but impressed the partners. Confused as to why she’d followed Shelby inside, he glanced at her and mouthed, “who is she?”

She mouthed, “The writer.”

No way. He’d expected a guy. In fact, he needed an uber-extroverted one for a great review during the anything goes week, which got down and dirty fast. Not a woman who dressed like a librarian attending a spiritual retreat.

As a rule, he never judged. Taking a second look, he was surprised to find her pretty, her brown or hazel eyes and pouty mouth holding promise as to the possible fire smoldering inside. Possible being the operative word. She hadn’t breezed into here confident and ready for sin. Not a good sign for her enjoying the intimate events at the resort.

Shelby cleared her throat. “Lissa, this is Jon Thorne, the owner. Jon, this is Lissa Nelms, the writer from Exploration magazine.”

Lissa regarded the plush leather chairs, sofa, and his massive desk, then met his gaze.

Her cheeks pinked up, as they hadn’t earlier, lips parting, surprise or wonder flooding her features.

He wasn’t certain why her reaction to him was so intense … except it looked genuine. Maybe. Ever since Mackenzie had put one over on him, after the years they’d spent together, he couldn’t be sure about anything. Remembering his manners, he stood.

After taking him in from top to bottom, Lissa returned to his mouth, then his eyes. “Good afternoon.”

Her voice was surprisingly throaty. Sexy as hell.

His face and chest heated, a first during a business meeting or with any woman. Even those who’d been attracted to him hadn’t shown the same awe she did. Flattering, sure, but still… “Hi.” He rounded his desk and offered his hand.

She gripped it firmly, her fingers softer than a rose petal, her fragrance subtly sweet, gold flecks in her hazel eyes.

Nice. He stroked her thumb.

Her face flamed.

Time to stop touching her.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tina Donahue Picture - Color

 

Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novels were Readers’ Choice Award winners. Another three were named finalists in the EPIC competition. One of her erotic contemporary romances was chosen Book of the Year at the French review site Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for one of her erotic romances. Two of her titles received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition. Another two won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

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Possession Obsession by Ciarra Sims #BDSM #DarkFantasy #PNR #BBW #Rockstar #NewRelease

Possession Obsession

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Gypsy magic woven through the fabric of time…

When Chloe inherits her Great Aunt Antonia’s legacy — a mysterious trunk filled with lovely lingerie — her life takes an unforeseen turn. The beautiful old undergarments have magical powers — and a mind of their own. For the first time in her life, Chloe finds herself irresistible to men. But there’s only one man Chloe wants — and that man just happens to be world famous rock star Slade Brandt — Sam Brandenburg, her high school crush.

Fame has its price, and Sam has his own demons to battle. Caught up in his own myth, he can’t seem to escape. The way things are going, stardom may cost him his sanity — or his life. He’s slipping farther and farther into the dangerous underground world of freaky BDSM role-playing — and he’s about to sacrifice himself to a cult of real life wannabe vampires. Chloe knows she’s his last hope. Can she save Sam from the thing Slade’s become?

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Ciarra Sims

Chloe Carlyle stared at the man who moved across the club as if he owned it. Slade Brandt walked the walk of someone who knew who he was and where he was headed — straight to the top.

And why not? He’d always been that way, even back in high school, when he was known as Sam Brandenburg. It was just Sam’s nature to be assured and cool. He’d been cool enough to set up a garage band and practice until they got it right. Smart enough to change his name and enter a Battle of the Bands contest sponsored by the local radio station. And though his band didn’t win, he’d been savvy enough to get noticed and land a contract based on both talent and raw sex appeal.

Oh, yeah, Slade Brandt definitely qualified as a babe magnet. Even in high school when his looks were adolescent and stringy, he’d still been a catch. He’d had some intangible magnetism that inspired a girl’s hormones to flutter.

Back then Chloe had been a bookworm, complete with glasses and watery faded blue eyes. Her body had matured late and never quite lost its baby fat. Sam was two grades ahead of her and out of her league even then.

The first time he’d noticed her, she’d humiliated herself. She’d dropped her books. When he handed them back, Chloe was so surprised she gasped, and her gum fell on his shoe! She’d mumbled a garbled “Thanks” that came out more like a burp.

Some impression she’d made…

Eight years later, Slade Brandt’s latest single was number two on the charts with a bullet, his last album had gone platinum, and he traveled with his own handpicked musicians now… and naturally, the groupies. But he hadn’t forgotten his roots. When he wasn’t on tour he always came home to visit his family.

And Slade still frequented the club that had given him his break.

Now he was about to honor that very club with a performance — a nod to his beginnings — and the place was packed. In a standing room crowd only, Chloe ended up plastered against the wall, hoping something about her would stick out, light up — somehow attract Slade’s attention. But why would it? She’d never lost that baby fat. She still lacked the sparkle and shine that attracted a man’s attention.

So Chloe had to make do with watching Slade as he leaned back, casually lounging in his booth of honor, an eager groupie tucked under each arm. The blonde on his left scooted closer and Chloe just knew her thigh pressed against Slade’s. The dark-skinned girl to his right was older. She turned her eager lips to Slade’s neck, nuzzling him. He obliged by giving her a French kiss that was blatantly for show. His tongue moved slowly into her mouth, then enthusiastically worked to and fro.

Chloe hated both girls. She didn’t know them, but that didn’t matter. She hated what they represented — the perfect body, heavy in the boobs, small waist, tight ass. They wore barely anything and Slade let them slobber and hang all over him. He probably fucked them both, too — at the same time. She’d read in one of the tabloids that he liked his girls two on one.

Chloe watched him finish the kiss with the dark brunette and turn to the blonde. Slade’s long dark hair fell to his shoulders. He pushed it back and bent to nuzzle at the busty young woman’s chest.

Someone snapped a picture and he laughed. Another flash went off and a bodyguard stepped in front of Slade to keep it from becoming a paparazzi feeding frenzy. Chloe wondered what it would be like to have her picture splashed under a headline for anyone to see in a checkout line. “Slade’s new girl. The love of his life, he vows.”

Chloe chuckled and sipped her piña colada. Fat chance. Even if both girls hanging onto Slade stitched their clothes together, she still wouldn’t fit into them. She heard the announcer give Slade his intro. The blonde scooted out of the booth and Slade slipped out, his faded jeans sinfully tight on his buff physique. Oh, he’d changed since high school — and all for the sexier. He oozed a fucking pheromone that made all the girls wet. Chloe knew it. Her own panties were sopping despite the cotton absorbent crotch.

She wished she could wear those wispy little thongs that women always threw on stage for Slade to pick up. If the panty donor looked particularly buxom or beautiful in that naturally sexy way Slade preferred, he’d sniff the undies and grin wolfishly. Then a bouncer would approach the lucky lady and escort her backstage for Slade’s own session of fan appreciation.

Oh, yeah, she knew how it worked. She’d dreamed of being one of those women since Slade had been plain ol’ Sam, but even back then, she hadn’t stood a chance. Now as he stepped on stage and the crowd roared, she sure as hell didn’t have an ice cube’s chance in Hell.

 

More from Ciarra at Changeling Press…

Ciarra Sims is one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for. She lives a plain and simple life in Southern California with her pets, and tries to stay out of trouble. Her writing may be comedic or scary, depending on her mood… or it may sway toward a Regency or even a western… whatever tickles her fancy at the time. Ciarra’s writing philosophy is: “Not to fall into a rut. Keep the reader and yourself wondering, ‘What’s next?'”

 

 

Darkest Desires by Lynn Burke #BDSM #SilverFox #secondchances #RomanceBooks @AuthorLynnBurke

Darkest Desires (Print) (Darkest Desires 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

For those with the courage to surrender completely, Monique’s elite BDSM club offers the freedom to explore the darkness within.

Don’t Let Go: Troy’s ex called his desire to be dominated twisted. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted with a three-day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite BDSM club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for Jaycie, the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.

Don’t Give In: The dominance in the stranger’s eyes reminds Stacey Lahren of her secret, dark desires, and the lifestyle she once dreamed of. One she refuses to give in to. Will Stacey have the courage to surrender herself to Devon, or will her need for a safe life keep them from the one thing they both long for?

Don’t Hold Back: Kelly secretly crushes on the man who rides the elevator with her every morning. Jamison holds his own dark desires. He wants a collared sub, a woman to enjoy the mutual pleasure his ropes bring. He knows he can set Kelly free, but can she find the courage to submit her body — and heart?

 

Available in Paperback

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EXCERPT

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Lynn Burke
Excerpt from Don’t Let Go

I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.

As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.

I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.

Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating — if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.

Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night — Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.

Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.

My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.

Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted — craved — submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.

My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.

No such fucking luck.

I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.

A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.

Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.

“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.

 

More from Lynn at Changeling Press…

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of hot romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

 

 

Once You Go Demon by Sean Michael #NewRelease #GayRomance #BDSM #DarkFantasy #PNR @seanmichael09 @changelingpress

Once You Go Demon (Once You Go Demon 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

There’s a shift of power happening in Hell, and nothing will ever be the same.

Kerr has been with High Demon Horatio’s household since his age of majority. A natural submissive pleasure demon, for the last seven years he has been untouched by his master Horatio and his job has morphed into a more managerial role. Still, it’s a shock when goons from Master Belial’s house arrive at his doorstep to inform him he’s been sold and his new master expects him to come immediately.

Lost by Horatio in a card game, Kerr finds himself in the Belial household, where Ceris, Master of the Harem, takes Kerr under his wing. Kerr is not only honored and used as he was made to be, but he is given a newly acquired demon, Harmony, as his own to train. The three pleasure demons have a rocky start, but they have all the time in Hell to figure out how to work together, and it isn’t long before they begin to care for one another.

Meanwhile, Belial has waited for thousands of years for Horatio to admit he’s actually a submissive. When it appears that’s never going to happen, Belial arranges for his best friend to lose a card game in which he’s offered himself as the prize. Horatio can’t believe Belial would do this for him, but the council puts their seal of approval on the bet, and he has no choice but to offer himself to Belial, who immediately gets to work convincing Horatio that he’ll be so much happier as Belial’s sub.

Will Kerr and Horatio find joy in their places in the Belial household? Only time will tell.

Publisher’s Note: The novel Once You Go Demon by Sean Michael was available briefly from another house.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Sean Michael

Kerr stared at the paper the incredibly well dressed goons at the door handed him.

Sold?

Him?

He’d been sold into Horatio Liverage’s house to act as the man’s submissive since he was of maturity, and now, after so long, Horatio had sold him without a word? Without a note?

Nonsense.

Utter nonsense.

“There must be a mistake.”

The goon pointed one clawed finger at the insignia at the bottom of the page. “What does that signify?”

“Horatio Liverage.” He couldn’t deny it was his master’s seal.

“Then there isn’t a mistake. Bring us Kerr, and we’ll be on our way.” The teeth on the guy doing the talking brooked no argument. Neither did the tufts of smoke coming out of Silent and Scary’s ears.

“I’m Kerr. I have to gather my things, make arrangements…” Right? Didn’t he get that much at least?

The lower demon looked at the contract again. “It doesn’t say anything about belongings here. Let’s go.”

“I have precious things that hold my family name, and it doesn’t say that I can’t bring them. I am not resisting, simply gathering my stuff.” He could bargain with the best of them. He knew he had to convince them, though, as either one of them could pick him up and toss him over a shoulder without even trying.

Henchman One turned to Henchman Two, who shrugged.

“Is your master here? He can decide.”

“He is not. He’s away. As such, I am second in charge of the household.” He held no illusions that he was beloved or even a lover, but he was well trusted with finances and with all aspects of Horatio’s life. “I shall return in moments.”

He began to pack — the stash of jewels he had been collecting for years, his few precious books, his favorite clothes, and the music and computer that were his. He grabbed his toiletries, the hologram of his sire and dam, and the fragile glass orb that throbbed with a sweet, gentle light.

Both goons were frowning when he came back, pushing the pallet of his things.

“We won’t be party to you stealing from your master.”

“I haven’t stolen a thing. These things are my own and now go with me to my new master.” Fuckers. Horatio might be able to sell him on a whim, but these were his possessions and they were going with him.

They looked at each other again, shrugged, and turned, heading down the walk toward the truck at the end of it. “We’re not toting anything,” the talker called back over his shoulder.

“Not yet,” Kerr muttered.

He wasn’t some pointless goon. He was a highly trained, highly useful sexual submissive and house servant. Soon he would find a place with whomever the fuck the asshole prick that never made love to him anyway, dickhead, had sold his papers to, and then this mouth breather would do what Kerr said.

The goon opened the back door and just stood there, watching him putting his things in. “You’re riding back there, too.”

“Thank you so much.” He rolled his eyes, pushed his hair behind his ears, and climbed in, telling himself that he wasn’t hurt, that he was nothing but property, that he shouldn’t cry. One day, that might even work.

The door closed with a loud clang, leaving him in the dark, the engine starting up moments later. The truck lurched forward, sending him falling onto his ass.

He did cry then, silently, heartbroken. He’d lost his home, his job, his master, and no one had so much as warned him. Someone had written up that paperwork, someone had made the arrangements, and someone had thrown him away.

He couldn’t believe Horatio had done this to him, and without any warning at all, not a word to him.

The truck stopped abruptly, the brakes squeaking loudly. The door opened again, the dull grey sky seeming bright after the darkness of the truck.

Two little slaves popped up into the back and began grabbing his stuff.

He lifted his chin and firmed his lips. He was well trained, valuable. Special in his own right. Men begged to be wealthy enough to own him.

“Come, come,” murmured one boy, motioning for him to get down from the truck and follow. He couldn’t see the two goons. “You’re going to be in the salle, honored one. Your groom is Ceris, and he is the Salle Master.”

Finally, someone realized how important he was, what his stature was, even if he was a slave. He followed the lad through a side door and along a winding hall of stone. This place was much brighter than his mast — than his former master’s, more marble than rock on the columns and floors, white and light blue shot through with silver and gold.

When they arrived at the harem, the whole place still felt luxurious and gilded, as if the master lived back here as well as the front of the house. Well, his new master was very rich, there was no denying that.

A huge bald man stood as he walked in, bowing to him solemnly. “Honored one. I am Ceris, your groom. Boy, put the things in the gold room, then call for tea.”

The lad who’d guided him here bowed and went running with Kerr’s things, deeper into the harem.

“Welcome to Lord Belial’s harem. We were very excited to learn he won you and that you would be joining us.”

Lord Belial? Bel? Horatio had sold him to his best friend? Seriously?

“Thank you for your welcome.” He bowed automatically, his training taking over immediately.

“Tea is coming. After that, I imagine you’d like a bath. Perhaps something light to eat.”

Ceris was a handsome demon. The bald head exposed the little horns completely, and they glowed in the light. His bare chest was beautifully muscled, the gauzy pants exposing strong legs and hinting at a heavy cock. There was a heavy spiky gold tattoo covering Ceris’ ridged belly, marking him as Master Bel’s, Kerr was sure. Marked, but lovely.

“I… Yes, of course.” He was developing the world’s worst headache.

A lad, different than the first two, he thought, came in with a tray holding a teapot and two teacups. He left them on a low table, bowed deeply.

“Thank you, Totz. You can go.”

The boy did, hurrying off like he had somewhere to be.

“Please. Sit.” Ceris waved toward the benches that surrounded the table.

“Thank you, Ceris.” He and Ceris were equals, and he refused to treat the man with less respect than he deserved. “I was not aware I was to be transferred. Not until the papers arrived at the door.”

Transferred. Traded. Discarded.

“That’s unfortunate. Were you able to collect all your things?” Ceris asked, pouring out the tea.

“I brought the things that were special that I could carry. What will my duties be here? In my former home, I acted as valet and head of household — finances, staff management, that sort of thing.”

Ceris shot him a confused look. “I was led to believe you were a trained submissive, honored one.”

“Yes, I was. My former master chose not to use me in that regard.” Not for many years and not often when he had.

“Perhaps that’s why he wagered you in the game of chance he played with our master last night.” Ceris leaned forward and spoke quietly, confidentially. “He’s still here, sleeping it off. It got very loud and much was imbibed. I’m very sorry for the way it happened, but maybe it’s for the better. There is no where else in all of Hell that I would rather be.”

“I will thrive wherever they wish me to be.” He hoped. He had no choice.

Ceris looked him up and down, gaze almost like a physical touch. “I’m sure you will.”

 

More from Sean at Changeling Press…

Writing under S. Michael for Het Ménage and Sean for signature M/M titles, Sean Michael leads a classic double life.

Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice,” Sean Michael spends days surfing, smutting, organizing an immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs.

While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and perusing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to “Chicago.”

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? Sean’ll stick with writing stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.