The Boss by Gale Stanley #gay #contemporaryromance #BDSM @galestanley

The Boss (Roosters 10)

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Publisher: Changeling Press

Maxwell Barnes runs the top law firm in the city, owns a private BDSM club, and has more money than he can spend in a lifetime. He gets everything he wants, and now he wants his paralegal, Aaron Marshall. Mixing work and pleasure is a big no-no, but their mutual attraction is off the charts. The one thing Maxwell isn’t looking for is love, but sometimes fate has a mind of its own.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Gale Stanley

Fucking traffic. Even at this hour of the day, the streets were as jammed as my calendar. Doesn’t matter what I drive. My Mercedes-Maybach won’t get me to the office any faster than a Prius, but my ride got a lot of looks. It commanded the eye as well as the road. I imagined the other drivers were wondering what VIP was enjoying all this luxury. The thought ignited me. Being the center of attention was a turn-on. It was better than sex.

At last, my building came into view. It was an impressive sight. The Barnes Building was a soaring glass tower, twenty stories high, and one of the most prestigious addresses in the city. I helped design it myself. I demanded a seat at the table with the architects and builders, and my input resulted in a stunning building that met my needs. If you want something done right, do it yourself. ‘Nuff said.

I turned into the parking garage and pulled into my reserved spot, savoring the rewards of success. My car, my building, designer duds, a Rolex, they were all symbols of my wealth and status. None of it was due to luck. I worked damn hard to get where I was, long hours, high-profile court cases, good investments… I was on top of the world. Now I was ready to enjoy myself. For years work had overshadowed everything else in my life. I had made a name for myself and accumulated stuff, but I had neglected the hedonistic pleasures that shaped my life. It was time to focus on the thing that lit me up. BDSM. Erotic play made me feel complete. It energized me. I just needed the right partner. Lately, I had wondered whether the man I wanted even existed. It was a tall order to fill.

I knew who I was and what I wanted — single, gay Dom looking for a playmate, not a relationship. Nothing serious or exclusive. I wanted a man who was submissive because he loved the way it made him feel, but finding a compatible play partner wasn’t easy. In the past I’d had partners who played at being submissive so they could gain access to me. They were only interested in my prestige and money. I liked a man who was willing to work hard and make it on his own. Someone who was constantly learning and wanted to challenge his limits.

Even with my connections, it was difficult to meet men because my kink was a well-hidden secret. Submissives who were looking for a Dom wouldn’t know how to find me. It had been a long time since my Dominant side got any attention, and it had been frustrating as hell.

Until the day Aaron Marshall showed up. We had instant chemistry. Chemistry counted for a lot, but it wasn’t everything. There had to be more to it than attraction. The big question was, could we build something on that chemistry? This was such an improbable match, I couldn’t believe it was more than a fluke. But what if it wasn’t? I intended to find out because I was used to getting what I wanted, and I wanted this man.

I took the private elevator to the top floor. My suite was bright and modern, a stark contrast to my public office one floor down. There it was all cherry wood and leather, the warm traditional look I presented to the public. But the private penthouse was my home when I was working on an important case so it was all me, a personal office, sitting room, kitchen, bedroom, and a large bath, even a walk-in closet stocked with some of my favorite paddles and floggers.

I listened to my voice mail and found a message from Brett Holiday, my best friend. No need to answer it. I’d be seeing him tonight. I went into the bathroom to check my appearance before taking the back stairs to my office.

Before settling in, I walked out to the front office to greet Aaron, who was now my newest paralegal. My current office manager was teaching him the ropes, a task I planned on taking over shortly. Pun intended.

Aaron always clocked in ahead of everyone, even me. He wanted to make a good impression, and he had. The man was a quick study and very professional, but he had other assets that sparked my interest.

I never forgot our first meeting. I liked his looks immediately — dark blond hair, hazel eyes, slim build, but his stance was what caught my attention. Aaron stood in front of my desk, his back ramrod straight, arms at his sides, head up, eyes down. His deference was flattering to the point of overkill. I saw it as a tendency to yield to the will of another. He was hard-wired to be a submissive.

We made eye contact and it was hot as hell. I pictured us having wild sex and I sensed he felt the same. The undeniable connection between us was like an out-of-body experience. That mysterious attraction couldn’t be forced. It was what I longed for, but seldom found. Calm down, I told myself. Do not hire this man because you want to fuck him.

“Have a seat, Mr. Marshall.”

“Thank you.”

I decided to test the water. “Thank you, Sir.”

Aaron’s eyes went wide but he responded immediately. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

His reaction was beautiful to behold. Being told what to do excited him. I could tell he wanted me to take control, to dominate him. Anticipation shivered along my spine. I knew an untrained submissive when I saw one. Aaron was struggling to recover his self-command, but his desire and arousal shone like a beacon in a storm. I was intrigued.

 

Get more books from Gale Stanley at Changeling Press …

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Social Media Links
Website: http://galestanley.net/
Blog: http://galestanley.blogspot.com/

 

 

Forget Me Not by Mikala Ash #BDSM #futuristic #MultiplePartners

Forget Me Not (Spaceport Multi-Author 10)

Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Renee George

 

…Dread raked its way through her chest…
“The wreckage was fused solid. There was no hope.”
“Felis, what are you saying?”
“He’s dead, Holly. Maxim’s gone!”

Maxim Dollavera dead?

Spaceport Adana goes into mourning for their fallen hero, but Holly Barberossa refuses to believe he’s gone. She wears a Forget-Me-Not pheromone pendant to constantly remind her of the love of her life. She keeps herself busy by reporting on the stalled trial of the traitor, Riz Gitto, who she and Maxim had been instrumental in bringing to justice.

The judge, Kasamee Kee, enlists Silas Archimedes, a private eye, to protect Holly without her knowledge while she uses her as bait to flush out the conspirators, chief among them the glamorous socialite and suspected pirate Mischa and her new slave, the very sexy Murukan.

Can Holly solve the mystery of Maxim’s disappearance? Despite her undying love for Maxim, will Holly succumb to the charms of Silas or the mysterious Murukan, who strangely reminds her of her lost lover?

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008, 2020 Mikala Ash

Holly swept into the office and threw herself into the visitor’s chair. “Hey there, boss!”

Vinnie gazed morosely at her from beneath hooded brows. “Any word from Maxim?”

She sighed forlornly. “Not for a few days.” Maxim’s sudden silence bothered her. A dim disquiet had been growing in her gut when last night’s call didn’t eventuate. She’d sent her own sub-space dispatch but there had as yet been no reply. She didn’t like it. Maxim was a consummate pilot but still she worried about him. The black, the spacer term for the deep dark between the stars, held many dangers that have no respect for human skill or ingenuity.

“When is he due back?” Vinnie asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.

“Not for another month,” Holly said and sighed again. She noticed she had been doing that a lot lately, sighing loud enough for others to hear. She’d never been so lonely before in her life and the feeling was quite disturbing. “He said in his last transmission that he and Felis had found an asteroid with a duridium deposit, whatever that is.”

“Money,” Vinnie said gruffly, but seemed to relax at the news. “He may be longer if that’s the case. Duridium is in demand all across the galaxy. It’s likely you’ll both be very rich, Holly.”

“Don’t worry, boss. I won’t leave you even if I am dripping in gemstones.”

He grunted and she guessed what he thought of the probability of that happening, though Holly suspected there had been something else on his mind. He seemed more preoccupied than usual.

She didn’t like the sound of this duridium stuff. If Maxim and Felis had made a big find they might be away longer than they had planned. She didn’t know how she’d survive.

“I’m glad he’s safe,” Vinnie continued. “I’ve just heard there was a passenger ship disaster just outside the Carnassian Void.”

Holly felt that buzz of excitement whenever there was the merest scent of a story but before she could process that bit of information there came a commotion from outside the office door. Roberta cried out and then the door was flung open. Holly stood up and gazed at the intruder. It was, unaccountably, Felis, who should be out there, beyond Adana’s walls, in the black with Maxim. She automatically glanced over his shoulder expecting to see her love, but Felis was alone.

There was something very wrong with his appearance. The usually immaculate leonine was disheveled and grimy. His golden fur had not been cleaned for days and the fur around his big eyes was matted as if… as if…

Roberta tried to embrace him but the big leonine didn’t seem to see her. His big oval eyes, glistening in the harsh light of the overheads, were fixed solely on Holly. He grabbed hold of her, drawing her into his broad chest. Holly couldn’t breathe he squeezed her so tight. After a moment she pushed him away. “You big cat,” she chided. “What’s the matter? You look terrible.”

She gazed into his agonized expression. She’d been right. He had been crying. The fur beneath his eyes was wet. “Sit down,” she said and guided him to a chair. He took a deep shuddering breath and fell into it as if the strings holding up his powerful body had been cut and he was now exposed as a mere puppet.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.

“Don’t be silly. Spit it out!”

“We were staking out our asteroid, putting down beacons, when we heard a distress call.” He took another sobbing breath. “It was a passenger liner, the Euripides. They were being attacked by pirates.”

“And?” she prompted, kneeling in front of him.

Euripides was holed and disabled,” he cried. “The passengers and crew taken. The captain got off a sub-space SOS before the bridge was blown apart. By the time we got there, the pirates were mopping up, stealing cargo and luggage.”

An empty void was forming in the pit of her stomach. “Go on.”

“We popped out of sub-space in the middle of their fleet. There were six of them.” Felis’s voice broke again. “There was nothing we could do. They opened up on us with quantum torpedoes as soon as we entered normal space. We had no chance.”

That black pit inside her chest coalesced into an iceberg. “Felis,” she said, her voice edged with fear. “Where’s Maxim? Still chasing them, I bet.”

His downcast eyes told her otherwise. “I was clobbered the instant I hit normal space. I peeled away and chased the one that shot at me into sub-space. He was too fast, a fighter, he just winked out. When I got back to the Euripides there was nothing I could do.”

Dread raked its way through Holly’s chest. Blood pounded in her ears so loudly she barely heard his words.

“The wreckage was fused solid. There was no hope.”

“Felis, what are you saying?”

“He’s dead, Holly. Maxim’s gone!”

 

More from Mikala Ash at Changeling Press …

Aussie Mikala Ash lives a hectic double life, mild-mannered training & development consultant by day… wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. “For me, burning the candle at both ends is not such a terrible problem; I’m having too much fun!”

 

 

The Naughty List by Cameron Allie #BDSM #HolidayRomance #Contemporary #preorder

THENAUGHTYLIST

The Naughty List

Series: Naughty or Nice (Book One)

Genre Information: Contemporary, Erotic Romance, Holiday, BDSM

Length: 40,000 Words

ABOUT THE BOOK

Can Kylie be naughty enough to get on Santa’s list this Christmas?

When Kylie confesses that she’s never enjoyed sex, she didn’t expect her friend to suggest joining her at a BDSM club. Every December, the club’s Santa picks one woman from his naughty list to take home for a night of uninhibited, wild sex. The catch? She has to prove she can be naughty enough to please him.

Already nervous, the last thing Kylie anticipated when she walked into the club, was that she’d recognize Santa. She certainly hadn’t expected the holiday Dom to be her brother’s, nicer than nice, best friend.

The Naughty List Ad

SNEAK PEEK

“Can I tell you something that’s a little embarrassing for me?” Kylie sat on her friend’s sofa, sipping hot cocoa while watching Love Actually. In the next room, the freshly decorated Christmas tree was twinkling brightly.

Kylie had met Hannah at work a few months ago, and they’d instantly hit it off. They were both single, both thirty years old, both personal trainers, and both on their second career after failing to enjoy what they’d originally set out to do.

Hannah had gone to college to become a social worker, but she had underestimated the emotional drain that came with such a demanding job. She’d burned out very quickly. Kylie had become a daycare teacher but had quickly become frustrated with the broken system and had quit after her first year.

As the holidays drew closer, Hannah had invited Kylie over to trim the tree and partake in some traditional holiday merriment. With the tree finished, a batch of gingerbread in the oven, and their bellies full from hot chocolate, they were both pretty tuckered out, and yet tomorrow they had plans to go shopping.

“Of course.” Hannah glanced over but turned back to the screen.

Kylie thought Hannah’s divided attention might make her confession easier to deliver. “I’ve never enjoyed sex.”

“What?” Turning so fast she nearly spilled her mug, Hannah grabbed the remote, paused the film, and set down her cup. “What do you mean, you’ve never enjoyed sex?”

Kylie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s always been just okay. Like I could take or leave it. It’s something I should do because, well, that’s what you do in a relationship, right?”

Hannah frowned. Clearly she didn’t understand.

Disappointed, Kylie wanted to disappear into the couch. She wished she hadn’t said anything.

“Maybe you haven’t been with the right guy?” Hannah suggested.

“I’ve been with my fair share of men. None of them seem to do it for me.” She didn’t consider herself a floozy, but after a long-term relationship, a few shorter ones, and a couple of one-night stands, she knew sex was just a big disappointment for her.

“Maybe you’re just not into sex. Some people aren’t. Maybe you’re asexual. Do you have sex with yourself?”

Kylie blushed. She really shouldn’t have started this conversation.

When she didn’t answer, Hannah brazenly went on, “Like, do you own any toys or touch yourself? Stuff like that?”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Kylie went to pick up the remote to un-pause the film, but Hannah snatched it from her.

“No. This is important.” Hannah switched the TV off. “You know I won’t judge you, right? You can tell me anything.”

Kylie wasn’t sure. Their friendship was so new, but they’d bonded very fast. Kylie felt closer to Hannah than she did to any of her friends from high school. At times she even felt closer with her than she felt to her own sister.

“How about I tell you something first? Something I don’t normally share. Will that help?”

Kylie stretched forward and set her mug down on the coffee table. “Look, Hannah, I don’t want to push you—”

“I visit a BDSM club,” Hannah announced. “You know what that is?”

With wide eyes, Kylie nodded.

“I visit a BDSM club, and recently I’ve been holding the attention of two Doms. Do you understand?”

“Sort of.”

“Sometimes, I have sex with both of them. They tell me what to do, and I do it. No questions asked.”

Kylie’s heart started to race. Maybe she could open up to Hannah. Her lifestyle brushed up against the things Kylie had often fantasized about trying but had never acted on. Two Doms though, that wasn’t for her. She just wanted one good sexual experience. Was that too much to ask for, for Christmas?

“So, that’s my little secret. How about you? Do you have sex with yourself?” Hannah circled back to her original question, leaving Kylie with a million questions she wanted to ask, but didn’t yet dare to.

Bravely, she replied, “Yes.”

“So you think you would enjoy sex? You know, with the right partner?”

She nodded.

“Are you gay?”

Kylie shook her head. “No! Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I’m just not.”

“Okay. So maybe it’s the guys you’ve been seeing. What are they like?”

They’d all been jerks. Well, not all of them, but most. “They’re either really boring or selfish assholes in bed.”

Hannah pursed her lips.

As she thought about it, Kylie wrung her hands. “Can you tell me more about the BDSM club?”

Slowly, a grin came over Hannah’s mouth. “Got a little fantasy tucked away in there?”

Kylie felt her face go red again. “Maybe.”

“So the club I go to is kind of like a night club. There’s a bar, some dancing, a main stage for exhibitionists, but there are also private rooms. There’s a dungeon master to ensure everything is safe and consensual. And when it comes to alcohol, there are strict rules, particularly for those engaging in active play.”

“But what goes on there?” Kylie didn’t want to be nosy, but she was curious. She wondered what active play was.

“Some people go to hook up or act out a scene. Some go to meet new people or show off their subs. There’s all types of fetishes going on, though admittedly, this club isn’t as hardcore as others I’ve been to. This one is a little more vanilla, but it’s not uncommon to see a good whipping or paddling. What are you into?”

Kylie bit her lip as she considered telling Hannah. “I’ve read all the books.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “You mean like that Grey book?”

Clearly, that wasn’t impressive. Everyone and their mother—hell, their grandmother—had read about Christian Grey.

Kylie gave her a little more. “I’ve read Tiffany Reisz, Anne Rice, Sierra Cartwright, Joey W. Hill, Angela Knight, and Angel Payne. To name a few.”

“Okay. There’s something there to work with.”

Briefly closing her eyes, Kylie fessed up. “I’ve watched a lot of videos, too.” Her blush deepened as she glanced at her friend. “And I’ve joined a couple of online chats, but nothing ever face-to-face or via video. Only messaging.”

Save Santa the Trip

Preorder with eXtasy Books

On sale at eXtasy Books on December 20th 2019. All other retailers by December 27th 2019.

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A Changeling for All Seasons Vol. 5 #BDSM #boxset #BBW #bisexual #holidayromance

A Changeling For All Seasons 5 (Changeling Seasons (ebook) 5)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Christmas Magic by Anne Kane: Tali hopes the Christmas Magic of the Sugarplum Ball is strong enough to get Jax into her bed.

Blitzened by Elizabeth Jewell: Christmas Eve rolls around, Nick gets a yen to kindle some holiday spirit in his human boyfriend’s heart

Emmy’s Wish by Ayla Ruse: Will this little Elf get the huge (male) present she wants?

Santa’s Treat by Camille Anthony: Plum’s been a very good girl, and the treat she wants is Santa.

Christmas Stalkings by Cassidy McKay: What’s a Christmas Elf to do when he wants to sex up the North Pole a bit? Make adult toys, of course!

Wrapped Around by Megan Slayer: Taygan’s going to make Luc’s holiday one he’ll never forget — complete with the real Santa, peppermints, and hot sex.

Stranded by Sean Michael: Can this threesome turn a Christmas disaster into a Christmas delight?

Santa’s Claws by Stephanie Burke: Santa’s going to see to it that his Elf and the naughty human to whom he’s bound have a very Merry Khristmas… or else.

 

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BookBrushImage-2019-10-4-18-1833

 

 

 

Under and Over It by Megan Slayer #BDSM #GayRomance @MeganSlayer

Under and Over It

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox

 

Regan Finley’s photography makes the local music scene shine. He’s four months from his final exhibition and graduation. But instead of preparing for the party, he’s fretting about his exhibition theme — bondage and passion. There’s one person he wants to make his exhibition come to life, if he can convince his housemate to participate.

Camryn Tate plays the music that makes the young girls scream. He likes being a local rock hero. When he finds out what Regan wants for the exhibition, Cam has to make a decision. He can let Regan have his commanding way and get the pictures he needs for the exhibition, or he can walk away from the best roommate and friend he’s ever known… all because of a little ball of nylon rope.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for November 8th at retailers

  

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

“Have you come up with a theme for your final project?”

Regan jerked his attention to the sound of Camryn’s voice. “Excuse me?” They’d been housemates for almost six months and known each other for a year beyond that, but this was the first time Camryn had shown real interest in Regan’s artwork.

“I’ll use English.” Cam crooked one brow. “The big theatre show or whatever you all call it is in less than a month and half. What’s your theme or idea or the art term for project thingy?”

“It’s an exhibition at the Kline Gallery and yes, I’ve got a theme picked out. The title is still up in the air.” Regan held his breath for a beat. “Right now I’m going with Confined Obsession.” Well, that was part of the title, anyway.

Regan stared at Camryn with no idea what Camryn was thinking as he stared back with his drop-dead gorgeous green eyes. Regan stifled a groan. The guy could model professionally. Cam spent just enough time at the gym to be sculpted without getting too veiny, and he was one of those rare creatures who didn’t have a ton of body hair all over the place. Regan swore Camryn Tate was made for photography.

Too bad Cam never bothered to volunteer to be Regan’s model.

Instead of speaking, Camryn nibbled on the corner of his mouth, no doubt deep in thought. The longer he stayed silent, the more Regan’s skin crawled. He wasn’t totally sold on the project theme, but he didn’t have much choice. “Confine” sounded so harsh… he wanted something equally emotional, but better said.

“How do you suppose you’re going to show this confinement? I mean, it sounds like you’re talking about someone being in jail.” Camryn strummed his guitar, his fingers gliding over the strings to create a melody Regan had never heard before.

“It’s a working title.”

“That makes more sense.” Cam closed his eyes and nodded in slow motion, caught up in his new composition. “Did you have to submit a timeline or anything? I’ve got exactly five weeks to get the bones of my music comp project done. I’m stumped. I thought maybe if you had a plan, your hyper plotting would rub off on me. It worked at mid-terms.”

“Plotting?” Regan snickered. Here he’d thought no one recognized his latent OCD tendencies. Cam got him, as always. Regan stared at the computer screen. He felt a little better about his unspoken choice for the show. “Well, the plan was to show people in the midst of everyday activities but with the confinements and constraints put upon them by society. You know, like Cassidy and her son… Skylar with his suit and tie.” Me and my sexuality with a roommate who doesn’t know I want him for more than platonic reasons.

Yeah, there was no way in hell he’d throw that in. Camryn knew Regan was gay. Regan didn’t exactly keep his taste for men hidden. But Regan wasn’t interested in showing himself in the photographs — he’d worked too damn hard in the space of four years obtaining his photography degree to do a series of self-portraits. Besides, his internship at Rock Monthly wasn’t going to up and disappear because of his sexuality. Max and Skylar loved Regan’s take on capturing the musical community in photographic form. But the friendship with Cam might crumble if love were injected into the scene.

“Who’s going to be in the pictures? Sarah? Skylar? Cassidy might do it. Why don’t you ask Marcie — she’s hot for you.”

“They might do it, yes.” Not quite the way Regan had planned, but they might get involved. “I kinda had an idea who I wanted for the model, but Marcie isn’t on the list. She’s in love with you.”

“Yeah?” Camryn looked up from his guitar, still riffing the bouncy tune. “Well, I am hot, but she’s not my type. Too thin.” He bobbed his brows in time with the music. “Aren’t I so full of shit? Now for the model. Anyone I know?”

“Your ego certainly is intact.” Regan gathered his wits. If he didn’t just say what he wanted, the moment would pass. He swallowed hard. “You — I want you for the model.”

How wasn’t that a whisper? Shit. The declaration in the mirror had come out so much stronger when he’d practiced earlier that morning.

The strumming stopped, and the color bled from Cam’s face. His eyes widened, making Regan’s pulse skip about five beats. “You want me? I don’t know what to say.” He placed his hand on his heart in a dramatic fashion. “It’s all so sudden. I don’t have a speech planned.”

“Drama king.” Regan rolled his eyes. Hell, yes, he wanted Camryn, and not just for photographic purposes. When Camryn looked at Regan, his knees turned to jelly. He wanted those eyes fixated on him as he did devious things to Cam. Looking lovingly down at Regan while Cam swallowed him to the… oh, God. Regan needed to get out and get laid. He’d known lots of guys, both gay and straight, and as far as he knew, Cam wasn’t gay — just theatrical.

“Can I keep the guitar?”

Guitar? Regan forced himself to surface from the Cam-induced haze. “Sure.” For a while, anyway. What Regan had in mind didn’t include the instrument, but keeping it with Camryn had merit. “Actually, yeah, I do want you to have the guitar. I’ve got an amendment to my idea, and you playing will work perfectly. When’s your next gig?”

“Tomorrow night at the Barricade. I’m sitting in with the Taylor Rogers Band for the May Day Festival. Tony’s sick.”

“Score one for you.” The stage at the Barricade had the best lighting for photography. Reds, greens and blues all shimmering off the singer and players. Yes, that would be great. “I’ll be there.”

“You know, I’m excited. You never come see me play.” Camryn strummed the guitar once again. A smile built on the corner of his mouth. “I like it, so don’t wuss out.” Cam toyed with the tuning pegs. “And I know you’re going to get a huge head, but I’m kinda looking forward to being in your pictures. The folks in the music building think you’re the bomb.”

Regan sighed. He wanted to tell Cam not to fuck around with compliments, especially with the music people. At twenty-six, he was too damned old for empty flattery. Sure, Regan loved doing the photos — capturing the heat of the performance was what he lived for. But damn, he hated being on the hair trigger. Four months without even so much as a date sucked balls. Regan scooted back into the safety of the couch. If he kept his mouth shut, Camryn would never know how much Regan wanted him for more than a good headshot.

Camryn stood and stretched. “I’m cashing in. Tomorrow will be late enough. May Day is a blast but man, the night is long, and I want to look good in those pics.” He placed the guitar in its stand and raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in messy spikes. “Sleep and composition class tomorrow.” He crossed the room in three long strides and stopped in the doorway. “Have you — have you ever had a burst of creativity right when you really needed to crash?”

“That’s why I pull the all-nighters. Not because I have to turn the project in the next day. It’s the flow, the zone. Can’t knock it when it shows up.” Cam nodded, and a lock of his ebony hair slid over his forehead. “Yeah.” The smile grew. “Night.”

Once Camryn left the room, Regan covered his face in his hands. Creativity had walked in the door the moment he met Camryn down at the commissary. He probably wouldn’t have paid attention, but Camryn sat on the steps and sang that Queen song so loud, Regan couldn’t help but notice. Cam knew all the words, even when Freddie Mercury and the bass line garbled it. He didn’t shy away when Regan sat down, instead making room for him on the concrete step.

Regan sighed. The moment Cam stopped playing and smiled, he’d fallen head over heels. And Cam had no idea.

 

More from Megan at Changeling Press …

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

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

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

Megan can be found at https://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer.

A Shot of J&B by Lou Sylvre #BDSM #GayRomance #interraciallove #NewRelease @Sylvre

A Shot of J&B (Vasquez Inc. 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

When Brian Harrison first met Jackie Vasquez at a Hawaiian wedding, Jackie was sixteen and troubled. Six years later they meet again; Brian’s career at Scotland Yard is budding with promise, while Jackie’s student days at the University of Nebraska are rolling toward a strong finish. Magnetic mutual attraction pulls them insistently toward one another, but the ocean separating their lives makes for a simmering romance.

When the waiting ends and they get together for a weekend in Denver, Dom Brian and sub Jackie both know they’ve tapped into something scalding hot, and much deeper than sharing an artful session. Shibari, lust, and love are all on the agenda — but for Brian, so is his police career, and a strange series of crimes seems poised to threaten their romance — and maybe their lives.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Lou Sylvre

Port Clifton’s shops yielded gifts for Brian’s hosts: a huge bouquet of red and white lilies accented with ferns, salal, and baby’s breath; a six-pack of Full Sail Amber Ale; a bottle of 2009 La Lagune, Haut-Médoc — a fine cabernet from France, the merchant said — and Batdorf and Bronson’s Sulawesi Toraja coffee, which the label promised to be earthy and sweet with hints of pineapple and black pepper. He hadn’t planned on so much, but he hadn’t been able to decide if Sonny would love the rich colors of the flowers more, or his favorite ale, or if Luki would get more pleasure out of the fine French wine or a special coffee. He knew it could be seen as an embarrassment of riches, so to speak, but he hoped his friends would understand.

As he approached the door, he faced the more immediate problem of how to knock while juggling it all, but he needn’t have worried. Sonny must have seen him stumbling from his car, and he swung the door wide just as Brian arrived.

“Come in,” Sonny said, and calmly unburdened him, laying the presents carefully aside so he could wrap his long arms around Brian in an enthusiastic hug, which he obviously considered a proper greeting. He let go and backed away a step. “Good to see you!”

The wonderful thing about Sonny, Brian thought, was that he never would have said such a thing if he didn’t really mean it. Brian’s own smile grew, and he nodded. “You too,” he said. “I brought you flowers and beer.”

“Thank you!” Sonny laughed. “Such wisdom in one so young.”

“And coffee and wine for Luki,” Brian added, having no idea what else to say or why he was stating the obvious.

Luki strode up just then, apron clad, and chestnut curls — sprinkled now with silver, Brian noticed — in disarray. “Perfect,” he said. “What Sonny said — wisdom!”

Luki’s face seemed so familiar yet transformed somehow. He didn’t grin, but he smiled a little, and joy fairly danced in the pale eyes that most often used to seem so cold. Brian knew Luki had survived a nearly fatal bout with lung cancer — in remission less than a year — and he thought maybe that had given him some gift of contentment. But after Luki thanked him and gave him a quick hug, Brian saw his gaze settle on Sonny, and he recognized that the true source of Luki’s joy was his husband, and the love that had deepened through the years they’d spent together.

Distracted by the familiar wave of envy he always felt in the presence of this couple, wishing he could somehow express it, Brian missed much of what Sonny said as he followed them to the kitchen. He tried to marshal his attention back to the present, and caught Sonny saying he didn’t think he’d ever seen lilies so red. Brian nodded, and murmured agreement, but then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

He turned toward the motion, and there stood Jackie Vasquez. All grown up — and apparently fresh from a shower. December sun poured through a window at his left, and it lit the red in his hair, making it smolder despite being darkened with damp. Brian hadn’t noticed before that Jackie’s gray eyes were like a warmer version of Luki’s blue, very pale, and similar in size and shape. Perhaps it was a trait traceable to Luki’s father — Jackie’s grandfather. But there the similarity stopped. While Luki’s pale eyes shone in contrast to his brown skin, Jackie’s somehow harmonized with his pale, dark-haired, dark-freckled coloring. The effect, though, seemed to Brian no less singular.

After a few seconds, Brian realized that while he had been standing there silently analyzing the evidence of a common gene pool between the two remarkable-looking men, Jackie had actually been speaking to him.

“Jackie,” Brian said, then thought to add, “Um, it’s good to see you again.”

“You seem surprised.” Jackie absentmindedly scratched at the center of his chest, which was bare and still damp, and where fine russet hairs formed a diamond between healthy, smooth pecs that clearly belonged to a man. Nothing boyish remained in Jackie’s physique, though he still had what might be called a boyish smile, or youthful, at least.

“Yes,” Brian nodded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I had no idea you would be here.”

Luki spoke up. “We didn’t expect him to be here, Brian, or I would probably have mentioned it on the phone. He was supposed to fly out yesterday.”

“I got bumped,” Jackie explained, and shook his head, apparently unhappy with the airline. “So the uncles agreed to put up with me for another day, and Sonny said he’d drive me to the airport tonight.”

Brian felt a little tongue-tied, which wasn’t a familiar feeling at all. He nodded.

Jackie squinted and cocked his head to the side. “I mean it, though, Brian. I’m glad to have a chance to talk to you. I… I don’t remember things clearly from… but I know you did a lot, and I’ve always wanted to thank you in person.”

That shook Brian’s tongue loose, and he said, “Jackie, there is nothing at all for you to thank me for. I’m glad I was there and was some help. I’m grateful you came through okay.”

Brian saw color rise in the pale skin between the freckles of Jackie’s cheeks. Jackie bit his bottom lip — very reminiscent of his Uncle Luki — and then looked away. He glanced back, said, “Well, I’d better put clothes on… I mean, a shirt… You know.”

Brian heard Sonny giggling. A delightful and always unexpected sound.

“Hurry up, Jackie,” Luki said. “Food’s on the table.”

 

More from Lou at Changeling Press …

Lou Sylvre loves romance with all its ups and downs, and likes to conjure it into books. The sweethearts on her pages are men who end up loving each other — and usually saving each other from unspeakable danger. It’s all pretty crazy and very, very sexy. As if you’d want to know more, she’ll happily tell you that she is a proudly bisexual woman — a mother, grandmother, lover of languages, and cat-herder — of mixed cultural heritage. She works closely with lead cat and writing assistant, the (male) Queen of Budapest, Boudreau St. Clair. She lives in the rainy part of the Pacific Northwest, and hearing from a reader infallibly brightens the dreary weather. Find her through her links listed here, or drop her a line at lou.sylvre@gmail.com.

 

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.