Release Blitz: Love, Blood, and Sanctuary #LGBTQ #paranormalromance @megan_hart @fionazedde @GoIndiMarketing @ninestarpress

Title: Love, Blood, and Sanctuary

Author: Brenda Murphy, Megan Hart, Fiona Zedde

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/07/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 95800

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, romance, paranormal, BDSM, lesbian, demon, blood magic, D/s relationship, sex club, spirit, witch, hemomancer, Rosh Hashanah, established couple, reunited, demi-goddess

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Description

Haunted? Hunted? When you need a safe place from disaster, heartbreak, or gods trying to break you and drain your blood… come to Sanctuary. It’s New York’s most exclusive club for magical beings and the backdrop of three sexy stories from three award winning authors.

We Choose to Be by Megan Hart
Love is in the air…and the blood. When hemomancer Hadassah meets the woman of her dreams, she has no idea that Yael is actually a blood demon. Is it only the draw of Hadassah’s talents that brings Yael into her bed? Or is there something more. Something that could last. What is love, after all, unless it’s bound by blood?

Sanguine Faith by Brenda Murphy
After a messy break-up leaves Laurel homeless and unemployed, she accepts her great-uncle’s offer of a townhouse and a job. When a seductive spirit trapped in the town house offers Laurel a means of escaping the life her uncle has planned for her, she learns that free does not mean without cost.

Promises Made by Starlight by Fiona Zedde
Abandoned by her wife years before and left devastated, Izzy has recently lost nearly everything else. Her credit is abysmal, she’s underemployed, and her successful best friend treats her like a charity case. But when her wife reappears, breaking her heart all over again, Izzy finds that not everything is as it seems. Blood gods walk the earth, and the one she once welcomed into her bed is back—ready to reclaim what’s hers.

Excerpt

Love, Blood, and Sanctuary
Brenda Murphy, Megan Hart, Fiona Zedde © 2021
All Rights Reserved

From Sanguine Faith

The rap on the car window rattled the glass. Laurel started and slammed her knee into the steering wheel. She cursed softly as she jabbed the window control button. The demon was dressed as a policeman. He wore dark glasses and his beefy hands rested on his thick duty belt nestled between the pepper spray canister and his pistol holster. A slight glow from a pouch near his hip was the only clue to his true identity. Huffing out her frustration at the window’s lack of response, Laurel shoved open the car door.

“You okay?” The officer leaned closer and peered into her face. His feet were squarely inside the circle of salt Laurel had spread around the car the night before.

“Yeah.” Laurel cleared her throat. “I’m okay.”

“You can’t sleep here.” He gestured to the street lined with ancient brownstone townhouses and graffiti covered buildings. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m sorry—” Laurel wiped her hand over her face and squinted at the officer’s name badge. “—Officer Sullivan, is it? I worked a late shift and didn’t feel safe driving anymore. I pulled over here to catch a nap.”

“Stow it. I passed this way last evening, and you were parked here. Your car hasn’t moved.” He leaned closer and removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his shirt pocket. “I know your uncle.”

“Great-uncle.” Laurel stared at his face and inhaled sharply. His eyes were light gray rimmed with red, her image mirrored in their shallow depths. His practiced glare was that of an experienced centurion. Laurel shivered under Sullivan’s gaze, unable to look away from the magical enforcer. He was bound to her clan, sworn to serve and protect. Loyal to a fault, willing to die for the family. Her great-uncle had a legion of centurions, all more than willing to aid and abet his less than legal business dealings.

“Is that so? Why are you here? What do you want?” Laurel pressed her lips together and rolled the hem of her shirt between her fingers.

Officer Sullivan leaned down and spoke softly. “You’re royalty in our world, Laurel. He know you’re sleeping in your car?” His melodious tones seeped into her body as he used the old language, the language of secrets, curses, spells, and death.

Laurel suppressed her shudder. “My roommate kicked me out.” She scrubbed her hand over her face in an attempt to hide the lie. “It was sudden.”

The centurion straightened and pursed his lips. He drummed the fingers of his hand on his holster. “All right, Laurel, if that’s how you want to play it. You need to discuss this with your great-uncle. If you don’t, I will. I don’t want to find you sleeping in your car again.” He tilted his head. “You may not have inherited your family’s abilities but you’re still family. We take care of our own. I can’t spend my nights watching you sleep, keeping watch for the Orions.”

Laurel gripped her keys tightly. Orions. The hunters. So many missing. So many gone in the blink of an eye, their bloodless and mutilated bodies found months or years later. Or worse found still smoldering, their mouths open in voiceless screams. She had taken a chance last night, but after walking in on her girlfriend eyebrows deep between their neighbor’s legs she had stuffed her car full of what it would hold and fled.

“I’ll be safe.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall, straightening her posture before she settled her hands at nine and three on the steering wheel. “I’ll talk to him today.”

Officer Sullivan stepped back, smearing the salt of the circle she had spread around the car. He pointed at it, lifted his chin, and smirked. “Seriously? It doesn’t work unless you infuse it with energy.”

Laurel inserted the keys into the ignition. “I know.” She looked away from her feeble attempt to protect herself and his smirk. After snapping her seatbelt in place, she waved at him and closed the door. She banged her hand hard on the steering wheel when the telltale click-click-click of a dead battery echoed in the car. “Fuck me.”

Officer Sullivan opened her door. “Come on. I’ll give you a lift.”

Laurel chewed her lip as she looked down at her paint-stained black T-shirt and tatty jeans. “I can’t go like this.”

Officer Sullivan rapped on the top of the car. “Get out. Now. I don’t have all day to deal with you, Laurel. And it’s not worth my life to leave you here with a broken-down car.” He stepped back and crossed his thick arms. “Do I need to assist you in exiting the car?”

Laurel shivered. She had experienced a centurion’s assistance just once and the memory of it still woke her at night. She trembled and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. “Let me grab my backpack.”

“Good choice.”

Laurel gathered the few things she didn’t want to leave in the car. After jamming her sketchbook next to her ancient laptop in her bag, she zipped the top closed and grabbed her hooded sweatshirt from the backseat before she exited the car.

“You hungry?”

“I’d really like coffee. I can’t talk to Great-uncle Marcus without some caffeine on board.”

“Come on, I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“Why’d you let me sleep there last night if you were just going to take me to my uncle today?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

Laurel glanced at Officer Sullivan walking beside her. “Thank you.”

“No problem. To serve and protect. Even if it’s from yourself.” He held the car door open, and she slid onto the cool leather seat. She settled her backpack between her feet and pulled on her black hooded sweatshirt. The car shifted to the side as Officer Sullivan entered and levered his bulk behind the wheel.

He waited until she had fastened her seatbelt before he started the car. Laurel’s gaze slid over the array of weapons lining the car. Magical weapons clipped into racks side by side with conventional firearms, their soft glow visible to Laurel.

Able to see magic, unable to wield her own power, the last female of a clan stretching back eons, unwilling to assume her role as clan leader and unwilling to produce an heir, Laurel chewed her lip as the car shot forward bringing her closer to her great-uncle’s house.

Laurel shifted in her seat and drummed her fingers on her knees. “You worked for my mom and dad, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

Laurel stared out of the window. A familiar ache settled in her chest. There were some things even magic couldn’t protect you from. The ratty buildings gave way to well-kept streets and high-rise buildings. The sidewalks were crowded with people scurrying to work and school.

“Do you think the humans ever get it? Like, do they know about us? Really get it? Other than the ones we make consorts?”

“Humans see what they want to see. If they ever understood how powerful supernaturals are, they would freak right the fuck out. And try to exterminate us. Again. All of us. Their unwillingness to see and believe is what keeps us safe.” He tapped the pistol on his belt. “And this.”

Laurel shuddered as the car slowed and stopped.

Officer Sullivan turned off the engine and preened in the rearview mirror a moment before he turned his head to face Laurel. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black. Unless it’s that dark roast crap. Then make it white as a virgin’s wedding dress.”

Officer Sullivan’s loud guffaw exploded in the quiet of the car. “You got it.” He left the car.

Laurel glanced at the tarnished Saint Christopher medal stuck to the car’s headliner and rolled her eyes. A group of humans rushed past, small children and their adults, animated and laughing, their voices muffled by the car window. The gentle ache in her heart blossomed into full-blown longing. Laurel blinked the grit of exhaustion from her eyes, leaned back against the headrest, and rehearsed the story she would spin for her great-uncle, hoping he would listen, knowing he would not.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Authors

Brenda Murphy

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. For a free short story, information on book signings, appearances, work in progress snippets, previews and sneak-peeks, sign up for my email list at: http://www.brendalmurphy.com/

https://www.facebook.com/brenda.murphy.75
https://www.instagram.com/quinbysideshow

Megan Hart

Megan Hart writes books. Some of them use bad words, but most of the other words are okay. Some of them hit bestseller lists and win awards and some don’t, but that’s the way it goes. She can’t live without music, the internet, or the ocean, but she and soda have achieved an amicable uncoupling. She loathes the feeling of corduroy or velvet, and modern art leaves her cold. She writes a little bit of everything from horror to romance, though she’s best known for writing steamy fiction that sometimes makes you cry.

Website: www.MeganHart.com
https://www.facebook.com/readinbed
https://twitter.com/megan_hart

Fiona Zedde

Fiona Zedde was born under the Jamaican sun but now makes her home in Spain. Since getting the writing bug, she’s published around thirty books and short stories, mostly about black queer romance, including the Lambda Literary Award finalists, Bliss and Every Dark Desire. Her novel Dangerous Pleasures received a Publishers Weekly starred review and was winner of an About.com Readers’ Choice Award for Best Lesbian Novel or Memoir.

At this very second, she’s probably writing another book, and it has 100 percent chance of having queer romance and queer women in it. Her pseudo-healthy obsessions are French pastries, English cars, and Jamaican food.

Website: www.fionazedde.com
http://www.facebook.com/fiona.zedde
http://www.twitter.com/fionazedde

Giveaway

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Playboys (box set) by Ana Raine #LGBTQ #contemporaryromance @AuthorAnaRaine

These playboys have everything they desire – except the love that will change their lives…
 
Garden of Silence: Oliver is a fifth generation gardener who works at the elite Haver House for Nathan Haver. Nathan’s son, infamous playboy Charles, inherits everything — including Oliver. Now Oliver must choose between Charles and Haver House…

Interpret: When Jacob steps out of the shadows, Pyotr knows he should run. Jacob is everything Pyotr wants in a master, but is his recklessness too much — or just enough?
Twisted: When Pip’s friends Max and Bentley come home from college, they both want more than just friendship. Pip starts to wonder if he really needs to choose at all.

Without You: Maxwell is kind, hardworking, loyal… and six years older than Bennett. When they met, Bennett was just a kid. But now Bennett’s an adult, with adult desires. And he’s waited long enough.

Publisher’s Note: Playboys (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Garden of Silence, Interpret, Twisted, and Without You.

Get it at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 28th at online booksellers

Praise for Without You (Playboys 4)

“Scorching hot and quick, but deep. Max and Bennett are an interesting couple. Ana Raine writes them with sympathy and cunning… I couldn’t put this book down. I’m looking forward to more books in this series and to going back and reading the others before it. Grab a copy of Without You. You won’t be disappointed.”

— 4 Stars from Nymphaea, Long and Short Reviews

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

Wake Me by Angela Knight #darkfantasy #bdsm @AngelaKnight

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

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

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

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

Get it today at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 14th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Angela Knight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rhett yawned and twisted around to lick his furry backside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chloe stared reverently.

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

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

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

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

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

Naughty & Sweet by Megan Slayer #agegap #contemporaryromance @MeganSlayer

Kelly Fenn came to the Honey Dripper seeking what she thinks is an easy way to make cash to pay off a loan. Martin Malachi is the one man she never expected to find, let alone fall in love with.

Martin’s not looking for a girlfriend, but Kelly needs a job. When he suggests an offer Kelly can’t refuse, she’s got a choice to make. Will she risk her heart for a chance at forever with a man fifteen years her senior, or walk away?

Get it Now at Changeling Press

Preorder for April 30th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Megan Slayer

Martin sat at the desk counting the take from the night before. Lots of customers meant the club was busy and would hit the quota, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed counting the receipts. He should check the liquor levels in case they needed to order more. He needed to go through the pipeline and replenish the beer kegs, as well.

He hoped they’d have a decent night tonight, too. He liked seeing the club full. A busy club equaled brisk business and happy dancers.

A young woman walked into the foyer. He swept his gaze over her — fresh-faced, sweet, co-ed type — not the kind of girl who worked at the Honey Dripper. The exotic dancers tended to be on the jaded side.

Martin frowned. “Excuse me? Can I help you?” He shut the lid of his laptop.

“Hi.” The girl’s eyes widened. “I’d like to apply for a job.”

“A job? Here?” Her blue eyes captivated him, and were those freckles? Blood rushed to his dick. He had a thing for girl-next-door types. He wasn’t a fan of younger women, but something about this one spoke to him.

“Yes.” She rested her hands on the desk. “Please?”

She’d pulled her dark blonde hair into a ponytail and her T-shirt stretched across her ample bosom. Martin stifled a groan as she licked her lips. If the innocence she projected was an act, then she was damn good at it.

“Hello?” She waved her hand. “Sir?”

God, he’d love to hear her call his name or Sir in the bedroom. When she waved again, he blinked. “Huh?” Shit. He hadn’t been listening to her.

“I’d like to apply for a job.” She tapped the desk. “Here.”

“At the desk?” He needed to screw his head on straight. “Doing what?”

“Um…” She blushed, and her confidence seemed to vanish. “Dancing?”

“You know it’s nude dancing, right?” She didn’t strike him as the type to strip without a stiff drink and a double dare.

“I do.” Her blush deepened. “Sure. Yeah. I know.”

“You’re twenty-one, right?” He wasn’t above moving and selling illegal booze, but the Malachi family refused to hire anyone under the age of twenty-one.

“I am.” She withdrew her wallet from her bag. “Want to see?” She opened the case and produced her driver’s license. “There you go.”

He read the information, then shined the card under the special light. The holograms and embedded strip shimmered. If this was a fake, then it was the best fake he’d ever seen. The holograms were hard to counterfeit.

“What are you doing?” She frowned, knotting her pretty features together.

“Making sure it’s legit.” He handed the card back to her. “Kelly.” The name suited her.

“Yes.” She smiled. “Kelly Fenn.”

“You’re a college student?”

“Yes.” She put her license back in her wallet. “Do you want to see my student ID?”

“No.” He should talk to her in one of the offices, instead of the foyer. “Let me call Amanda over. She can cover the desk.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “Whatever you’ve got to do.”

He tapped his phone, summoning the woman who normally manned the desk. He sent the text, then turned his attention to Kelly. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked. “I’m twenty-one, in my third year at Green College. I’m studying film history, and I’d like to get a position working with a museum or in the film industry cataloguing movies. Ideally, I want to work here in Cambridge in the little museum, creating digital and film content for the museum as well as cataloguing the films and clips in the archives.”

“Ah.” He gestured to Amanda, who’d just arrived. “I need you at the desk while I speak to this applicant.”

Amanda crooked her drawn-on eyebrow. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”

“What?” Kelly sighed. “If you can’t take me seriously, then I give up.”

“You’ll never work here with that attitude.” Amanda took her place behind the desk. “Good luck.”

Martin groaned. He liked Amanda, but not in a romantic way. Her sense of humor didn’t gel with his, and she tended to look at the world in a pessimistic manner. “Thank you.” He picked up the laptop and gestured to Kelly. “Ready?”

“Sure.” Kelly inched around the desk.

Amanda grabbed Martin’s arm.

“Hang on,” Martin said. He directed Kelly to the conference room. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He left her alone and returned to the desk. “Yes?”

Amanda rested her hands on her hips. The dress clung to her curves and showed too much cleavage, but she did her job and brought in customers. “What’s the deal?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “What’s your beef?”

“She’s young.”

“She is.” He knew and couldn’t do much about it, but most of the girls who danced at the club were under twenty-five.

“She’s not dancer material.”

“Nope.” He could’ve told her that when Kelly first walked into the building.

“Yet you’re wasting your time on her.” She crooked her eyebrow again. “What’s gotten into you?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

Author’s Website | Facebook | Instagram

Release Blitz: Caleb by Summer Stanton #ParanormalRomance #LGBTQ @EJBookPromos

Title: Caleb 
Series: Carnal Pleasures Series
Author: Summer Stanton
Genre: M/M/M/M, Paranormal, Fated Mates, BDSM, Romance
Release Date: March 11, 2021 

Caleb Knightly is a Professional submissive at Carnal Pleasures. After escaping a dangerous situation and reluctantly being turned into a Vampire, he is finally happy with his life. He doesn’t need, or want, anything else. Until fate decides to turn his world upside down—again.

Callum Rutters and Eli Dran have been together for an amazing sixty years. They love the time they spend playing together at Carnal Pleasures. Their complex relationship keeps things interesting and they couldn’t be happier. Until fate throws them into the path of someone they never knew they needed. Now, they have to convince Caleb that being bonded doesn’t mean he’ll lose his autonomy. Instead, he’ll gain a family, something he thought he lost a long time ago.

Just as the three men are beginning to find their footing and learning how they work as a three, Eli’s past returns to haunt him, and fate steps in once more. This time in the form of Lucian Drake, local Pack Alpha. Lucian doesn’t know what to make of the threesome, he just knows he wants more with them all, in whatever capacity they’ll allow.

However, Eli isn’t the only one facing danger and Lucian will have to fight, not just for the three men he is growing to love, but for the Pack he’s spent his life building and protecting.

Separately, the four men are vastly different, but together they have something extraordinary. It may not be conventional but it can be all theirs—if they can survive.

*The Carnal Pleasures series will be a mixture of various M/M and M/F pairings following the lives of the employees and patrons of the club. While this series has romantic elements, not all books will be romance. Due to language and explicit sexual interaction, it is recommended for readers 18 and up*

 

Goodreads Review – “There’s never a dull moment.”

Goodreads Review – “This book gives you everything you want in a book, the drama, the heat, the chemistry, the suspense and more…”

Goodreads Review – “This book is by far the best in the series”

 

Summer Stanton loves three things: books, coffee, and writing. After spending years dreaming about being a writer, she finally took the plunge.

She loves pushing her limits and writing about things that are close to her heart. She tries to put as much real-world stuff into her work but enjoys being creative and taking liberties when she can. Her books are full of love, family, and strong friendships and mostly have happy for now endings.

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Guest Post: Unmasked (box set) by Angela Knight #urbanfantasy #actionadventure @AngelaKnight

UNMASKING THE HEAT

By Angela Knight

I’ve always thought comics were sexy.

That may seem a little weird, until I tell you I discovered comics about the time I hit puberty. When I was twelve, my grandmother passed away, and my mother took me to a therapist. He had an enormous stack of Batman comic books in his lobby, and he gave them to me. I took them home, and I was hooked.

The Batman artist of my teenage years was Neal Adams, who made Batman look sexy and tormented — and basically naked as he chased Catwoman all over Gotham. One of my favorite Pinterest images recently is of Bats holding Catwoman with her whip wrapped around his throat. (Though the Batman of my imagination has always seemed more of a sonofabitch Dominant than anything else. It isn’t much of a stretch. That character is a bit of a bastard even in 1990’s cartoons.)

Years later, my first published work was in comics – a three-issue mini-series called Cycops about three cops with computers implants in their brains. I basically used the same idea in my Time Hunters series for Berkley Sensation. Like the Cycops, the Warlords had the abilities to draw on brief explosions of superhuman strength.

Power has always fascinated me. For one thing, I believe we have more of it than we think we do, something we often discover only when we’re backed into a corner.

That’s why I write the stories I do – about people waging desperate battle against evil for those they love. It’s only then they discover their inner superheroes, realizing they have more strength than they ever knew. We become our own superheroes only by being tested.

Besides, with great power come great sex!

Unmasked (Box Set)

Things get hot when heroes take off their masks — among other things!

Hero Sandwich: When Meg Jennings finds herself at the mercy of a pair of kinky heroes, she discovers keeping a wicked secret can be good, dirty fun.

Voodoo: Voodoo is tired of waiting for Lynx. Time to show him everything she can do with her psychic superpowers.

Taming Jack: Lark Anderson is determined to save Deputy Jack Ramsey — even if it means accepting an inhuman invader.

Natasha and the Android: When Natasha is kidnapped by an android supervillain who wants to find out why humans are so obsessed with sex, she realizes the dark side has a lot more going for it than she thought.

Masks & Mistletoe: From rescuing a ten-year-old from an evil Santa to celebrating a BDSM Christmas, superheroes Lock and Ultra explore discipline, dominance and the kinky way…

Publisher’s Note: Unmasked (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Hero Sandwich, Voodoo, Taming Jack, Natasha and the Android, and Masks & Mistletoe.

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Angela Knight
Excerpt from Hero Sandwich

Meg Jennings stepped out onto the roof of her apartment building, her boots scraping on the concrete. Below, horns honked and an eighteen-wheeler growled in acceleration as a fire truck wailed its way down the street.

Restless, she strode to the roof’s edge. All around her, the lights of Manhattan glittered in the darkness as if the stars had showered down to earth. Meg stared downward, brooding.

She’d had no choice except to break it off with Richard tonight. Much as she loved him, she couldn’t keep tolerating his secrecy, his habit of disappearing, his evasiveness. She couldn’t even remember the last time they’d actually ended a date without him being called off by some mysterious phone call. Any explanation he’d bothered to give afterward always had the ring of a lie.

Meg had lived a double life long enough to recognize the signs in somebody else. She knew what she was doing in hers. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know what Richard was doing with his.

Maybe he was a hero, risking his life in the pursuit of justice. But there was something about Richard, something just a little bit dark, a little bit ruthless. That sounded more like villain than hero to Meg — and she wasn’t willing to go down that particular road again. She didn’t like where it led.

Even so, the expression on his handsome face when she’d told him it was over had stabbed into her soul. Pain and vulnerability were not emotions she associated with Richard Drake, billionaire captain of industry.

She’d found herself explaining. “I just can’t live with the lies anymore, Richard.”

A cool gleam of determination replaced the pain in those wolf-pale eyes. “We all have our secrets, Meg. And we all tell lies.” Then he’d walked out.

Now she glowered at the city below. We all have our secrets. What the hell did that mean?

With a huff, Meg stepped off the edge of the roof and into empty air. For an instant, she fell like a rock. Then the generators in her suit started pumping out lev-fields, and she rose slowly skyward like a soap bubble on the breeze.

Absently, she watched the traffic stream below her boots in a river of headlights. Was this what Richard meant? Did he know what she was? And would he tell anyone in that other life she suspected he led?

If he did, he might as well paint a target on her chest and declare open season. Too many pissed-off villains — and even a few heroes — had sworn to take revenge on Paparazzi for the photos she’d taken. If any of them ever found out who she was, she wouldn’t have a prayer.

It was hard to believe Richard would deliberately endanger her that way. But then, she didn’t really know him, did she? That was the whole problem.

Frowning, Meg stretched her body out in the air, letting the lev-fields cradle her in invisible lines of force. With one hand, she checked the bag attached to her equipment belt. Her camera gear was safely stowed, ready for the night’s adventures. Taking a deep breath, she slowly flexed her toes, triggering the acceleration controls in her boots. Instantly, she shot forward, propelled by the levitation fields rippling around her.

It was ironic, really. If her father hadn’t been such an adrenaline junkie, he could have been pulling in billions in patent proceeds. The American military would have paid a great deal for a suit that could both levitate its wearer and turn him invisible.

Unfortunately, exploiting his inventions had always held less appeal for Gerald Jennings than committing crimes as the supervillain Bankbuster. He and his partner Nightwolf had terrorized New York together, in between battles with superheroes like Cougar and Lynx. Which was why Gerald was doing fifty in Attica now instead of living the high life in Acapulco.

Meg was lucky she hadn’t gone down with him. When she’d turned fifteen, Nightwolf had lost a fight with Cougar and gone to jail. Her father hated working alone, so he gave her a lev-suit and forced her to become his sidekick, Sneak Thief. For the next two years, she’d lived in a constant state of terror as they used their suits in nighttime bank robberies.

Finally, Meg could take no more. She told her father she’d robbed her last bank. Enraged, Gerald beat her so badly, he had to take her to the hospital before he robbed the bank he’d targeted. Cougar and Lynx caught him that very night.

Bankbuster’s conviction freed Meg from her life of crime, but it also left her with a very big problem. Her mother was dead, and the money Gerald had left in an offshore bank wouldn’t last long. Though she was old enough to go out on her own by then, she had no way to support herself except minimum-wage jobs.

Meg briefly considered selling her own suit to the Army, but she didn’t know how it worked. Besides, admitting she had Sneak Thief’s costume wasn’t exactly a good move, given the charges hanging over her head. She had to find another way to make a living.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

A Stroke at Midnight by Lyndell Wiliams #BDSM #kindleunlimited @laylawriteslove

He will have her before the year is out!

Mateo spent too many years craving the taste and touch of Deja’s body. He restrained from taking his brother’s widow to bed. Now the sinner in him is winning the battle. He is through imagining all the naughty things he can do with her. Time to put all his kinky plans into action.

He assembles his toys, determined to stroke Deja by the time the clock strikes twelve on New Year’s Eve.

Deja knew it was wrong to lust after her dead husband’s brother. She tells herself that Mateo only wants to help raise her son, but she can’t keep ignoring the way he looks at her and how it makes her tingle with desire. She can’t resist the call of his hot body, and she does not want to.

Tied down by guilt and separated by quarantine, Mateo and Deja decide to free themselves with a New Year’s Eve night of passion. But will it destroy their family and friendship?

A Stroke at Midnight is a BDSM holiday short with an alpha male into kink. **NO abuse, NO cliffhanger, guaranteed HEA!**

BUY LINKS:

https://amazon.com/dp/B08QJQ817M

EXCERPT

“Can I help you?” asked a soft voice behind him.

Mateo turned to the petite, blond salesperson.  “Yes, I want to assemble a fetish box, mainly BDSM.” He had thrown out his old toys as soon as he got home. Everything had to be brand spanking new for when he first spanked Deja. He pointed to the wall. “Let’s start with a flogger.”

“Okay.”

“I’m interested in genuine leather.”

The clerk nodded and stood on her tiptoes. She pulled down a satin bag. “This is made of genuine leather with a bamboo handle.”

He opened it and glided the strands over his hand, letting them slide through his fingers. Yes, this was the one. Not for their first time, though. Deja had revealed a lot during their conversations. Her sex life, when she had one, was mostly puritanical. He didn’t want to scare her but ease her into his play.

“I’ll take it. Do you have any ticklers with a leather crop?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lyndell Williams is an award-winning writer and bestselling author. She is a cultural critic with a background in literary criticism specializing in romance. She is an editor, writing coach and mentor. She has been published in peer-reviewed journals and writes for multiple online publications.

Author Links

Blog – https://laylawriteslove.com/ 

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/laylawriteslove/ 

Twitter – https://twitter.com/laylawriteslove 

Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/laylawriteslove/

YouTube – https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWpN2YTkr9cGO9Z7-AB8xNw

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/laylawriteslove 

Amazon – http://amazon.com/author/laylawriteslove

Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/abdullahpoulos/lyndell-williams-author/

Newsletter – bit.ly/lwlnewsletter   

All Wrapped Up by Willa Okati, Lacey Savage, and Emma Ray Garrett #BDSM #romancebooks @willaokati @laceysavage @Emma_Ray_G

Alien Space Marines, a celebrity photographer, and a pair of vampires find their perfect mates on the dark side of the night.

Chain of Three by Willa Okati: Mix two alien Marines, a human BDSM Master, and a shapeshifting Empress with a mind of her own, and what do you get? A whole lot of trouble. It’s a three-way battle for dominance, and the Empress knows something she’s not telling…

Naked Exposure by Lacey Savage: When savvy celebrity photographer Deidre Laxon trespasses on private property in pursuit of hot Hollywood bachelor Greg Radigan, she has no idea she’s about to capture him in all his naked glory participating in some very explicit BDSM play. When Greg and Deidre finally come face-to-face, he’s ready to exact revenge. And nothing short of Deidre’s complete submission will satisfy him…

Torqued by Emma Ray Garrett: Being a dominatrix gives Reliant Agent Pru Gordon perfect access to the Nightside she polices. And it lets her fulfill her fantasies at the same time. It’s the perfect life. Until the night she meets Gage Mills and Ro Thomas. When two of the darkest predators around meet up with the best Controller alive, things are bound to get messy… Just what the Domme ordered.

Publisher’s Note: Please note that not all genres and themes apply to the entire collection.

Get it today at Changeling Press

or Preorder for November 27th at online booksellers

Praise for All Wrapped Up Vol. 2

“This is the perfect book to have on hand when there’s only a short period of time to fill. Each story is a very satisfyingly quick read. I highly recommend this entertaining trio of tales.”— Susan P., The Romance Studio

EXCERPT

Excerpt from Chain of Three Willa Okati
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Willa Okati

“So, you’re pretending to be a human again today, are you?”

Dane grunted in response. In his opinion, a stupid question didn’t deserve any kind of answer. Anyone with two, three, four or more eyes in their head or what they called a head ought to know better. Of course he’d shifted into human shape. He wasn’t stupid.

The Empress hadn’t exactly ordered Her subjects to assume the images of the humans She adored and fell passionately in love with. However, anyone who wasn’t too dumb to come in out of the rain knew they’d better wear the right “uniform” unless they had an itch to annoy Her.

You really, really didn’t want to annoy the Supreme Commander of a thousand-plus starships and a million trained warriors.

Besides, he’d decided to lounge by the pond in the garden of his new quarters that morning and tentacles had a nasty tendency to develop vicious sunburn. “Getting a tan” the earthfolk they’d rescued from their doomed planet called this practice. They’d said it was relaxing and made them look more attractive to those they wanted to mate with.

No, those they wanted to fuck.

If Dane was going to play human, then he’d damn well get the details right. Mating and fucking were completely different concepts. One of the new traditions most of his countrymen and women liked best when it came to playing human was the idea of fucking without having to tangle themselves up in mating.

“Fuck.” An interesting word you could use in almost any sentence.

Dane paused for a second to appreciate the amazing range of human obscenities, otherwise called “swearing,” “cursing,” or “cussin’.” They worked great when a guy didn’t really know what else to say.

Speaking of which, Dane decided getting a suntan was probably a piss-poor waste of time. He couldn’t figure out why anyone would enjoy damaging the pigmentation of their skin by sitting in the sun all day, but as the earthfolk also said, what the hell? He didn’t have anything better to do. Not since he’d been “honorably” discharged from the military, sent back to their home planet for recuperation, and then…

Dane shuddered.

“Aww. He shivered. Izza baby boy cold?” Julian taunted in American English.

Raising the middle finger of his human-shaped hand, Dane pointed it where he figured Julian would be standing. Another handy earthfolk trick, cussing with hand signals.

Julian hooted. “Up yours too!” He made the suggestion in cheerful good humor. Probably purely for the sake of annoying Dane. He never took offense at anything Dane did. He treated every barb and sting like some big game. Prick. “You’re cranky today, old man. What flew up your ass?”

Dane grunted again as his only answer, deciding if that wasn’t good enough for Julian he could go screw himself.

Mmm. He really, really loved human profanity. So rich, depending on culture, and so satisfying. He and Julian both studied the underground lists of new phrases together to figure out what they meant, bitching at each other over who got to read first if they didn’t both have a copy. The time when Julian insisted “son of a bitch” meant the same thing as “son of a motherless goat” had resulted in a fight of amazing violence and duration.

In the end, the Empress Herself gave them a tongue-lashing of Her own and sent them to their rooms to stand with their noses in the corner until they learned to behave like men, not children.

Julian’s fault, in Dane’s opinion. Dumbass.

ABOUT WILLA OKATI

Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants, genderfluidity, and a lifelong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Favorite story types include: friends to lovers, reunited lovers, enemies to lovers, mpreg, polyamory, medical romances, Regency/Edwardian/WWII historical romances, and romantic comedies.

ABOUT LACEY SAVAGE

Award-winning author Lacey Savage loves to write about her dreams — or more specifically, she loves to breathe life into her steamy fantasies (and she’s got plenty!). She pens erotic tales of true love and mythical destiny, peopled with strong alpha heroes and feisty heroines. A hopeless romantic, Lacey loves writing about the intimate, sensual side of relationships. She currently resides in Ottawa, Canada, with her mischievous husband and their loving cat.

ABOUT EMMA RAY GARRETT

“…and I — I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

-The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

The last line from award-winning author Emma Ray’s favorite poem pretty much sums up her life. Her tendency to do her own thing is what her friends and family love best, and least, about her. Chaos is a constant in the Garrett home, which currently houses her intelligent, energetic children, a devoted husband, a very large, very lazy, white tom-cat, a very crazy, very small black cat, and a very happy, very healthy rescue pooch — who’s black and white.

Famous Murders: Nick and Jacklyn by Ann Raina #EroticRomance #BDSM

A killer on the loose, an FBI-agent in love, and a famous actor in danger.

After three murders in the Washington, DC, vicinity, the FBI Agents Hayes and Beckham are assigned to solve the case. Although the murders seem incoherent at first, it becomes clear that there are connections between them. It turns out that the murderer is far from having reached the end of his deadly list.

Aside from the investigation, Agent Hayes has to find a way to get on with his demanding girlfriend and her challenging love games. Can he do both and not lose himself?

Buy at Amazon & Extasy Books

EXCERPT

For a second, Aaron feared Steven would drive on, ignore a man in need, but then the turn signal was on, and the muscle car slowed down to stop behind Aaron’s pick-up truck. Steven let down the driver’s window and stuck out his head.

“Do you need help?” he shouted.

Aaron’s plan collided with his desire to hurt the actor and let him bleed, and for a second, he feared his voice would simply deny the words he had carefully prepared.

“Yes! Oh, I’m so glad you stopped!” Aaron reached the sedan and put a relieved smile on his face. “Steven! Oh, I didn’t expect you here. How fortunate!”

“Yeah, the studio called, and I’m back on my way to New York.”

“Ah!” Aaron swallowed and pointed back to his car. “I picked up a woman a mile down the road, and she…fainted! Imagine that! Now, I wanted to take her to the health clinic, but my car just died. I was lucky to steer it onto the shoulder before the steering wheel locked up.”

“Now, that’s a row of bad luck.” Steven shook his head, amusement in his voice.

Aaron’s fist wanted to punch the smile off his face. He panted and made wide eyes. “Would you mind taking her? I don’t know what she’s got, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if—”

“Yeah, okay. Calm down.” As expected, Steven—sighing as if the worst things on earth only happened to him—opened the door and got out, all manly and confident. “Can’t let you down here, pal?” He smiled engagingly, but he checked his watch a moment later. “I’ll take her. Did you call for a tow truck?”

“No. It just happened a few minutes ago.”

“The woman first, I see.” Steven slapped Aaron’s shoulder like he’d do with a buddy. “You’re a good guy. If you want to, I could take you, too. You know, so you could call from a nicer place than this lonely road. Cell phone might not work around here.” He rounded the large trunk toward the passenger side. “I didn’t see a car on the way so…was she on her way on foot?”

Aaron hadn’t thought of such a question, but quickly said, “Yes, she said she’d walked half a mile maybe until I stopped for her.”

Steven’s voice was full of regret. “People are uncouth and egoistic these days. What if it happened to them?” He had reached the door. “Now, let’s see if I—”

Aaron held the needle to Steven’s neck, right above the leather jacket’s collar and pressed down quickly and forcefully. Steven cried out and fell forward against the window.

“What the fuck—” He turned his head, eyes full of fear and pain. “Aaron, what—” When he reached for something to stop his fall, Aaron was clear-headed to keep him from ripping off the side mirror and guided his fall. Lying on his back, Steven stared at him, shocked. His hands trembled as he tried to grab Aaron’s arm. “What’ve you done to me?” Steven’s voice slurred, but his eyes were still open.

Aaron was anxious to have miscalculated the dose and checked quickly for witnesses, but two cars passed by without slowing down.

“Why you son of a—” The actor’s eyes closed, and his body slackened.

New Release: The Wolf (Wild Hunt) by Stephanie Burke #UrbanFantasy #BDSM @FlashyCat

Caille knows the hearts of men, and she has been ripping them from their chests for centuries.  Now, as a member of the Wild Hunt, she wants nothing more than to rip apart the men who dared steal one brother’s mate and kidnap her other Hunt brother. Nothing and no one will stand in her way… even the curiously attractive new partner The Master of the Hunt has given her.

Bran the Blessed had been in a cave for what seemed like an eternity, growing back his body and learning about the new world with the aid of his companion crows. He relied on no one except his friend, Kern, who brought him out of his solitude and offered to introduce him to the new world. Problems arise when his friend’s mate has been kidnapped by murderous cultists, leaving Kern unable to function. There is no way Bran, the once-powerful King of Wales could not assist with this hunt as a new Huntsman… and then there was Caille.

Instantly intrigued with each other, the two Huntsmen become pawns in a dangerous game where the elite go to satiate their darkest desires and where the cultists themselves hope to gain more power and influence. Vowing to protect this budding relationship, Bran will do anything he can to protect his new family, even if it means he became one of those who play with wolves.

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Stephanie Burke

“Kern. You — your mate has been taken.”

The words seem to slam into Kern with the weight of a ten-ton semi. As soon as the words left Manx’s lips the world seemed to cease to exist for the Stag.

Bran watched as his friend turned ashen with the news, his head lowered as an anguished whine tore from his throat. Bran, The Raven, then watched as his friend’s head snapped up while his eyes blazed bright fiery red.

“They took my mate?” The words roared from his throat as his fists clenched. All the veneer of humanity slid from his person like a duck heading to water. His hair snapped with an electricity and life all its own; the dark skin of his forehead split, and in an explosion of blood, his massive, fifty-point horns exploded from his forehead. The smell of animal musk and dry dust and vegetation filled the air, as did the sound of his pants ripping off his body as thick thighs swelled further, bursting free of the material that held them bound. Bran watched in horrified shock as Kern’s human limbs transformed into thick, fur covered appendages of a stag.

“My mate! My little star!” he raged as his fingers curled into claws, and as he reared up to his full height, his horns, still dripping with blood and tissue, touched the ceiling. Several red-orange markings circled his eyes as his power pulsed and Bran was reminded, Raven that he may be, his friend Kern was a god.

“Calm –” Manx stepped forward, their arms outstretched in a soothing manner that Kern ignored as his gaze went from face to face in the room.

The cat-smelling one named Marshal was curled into a miserable ball on Manx’s leather couch, his eyes wide and fearful. The really pretty wolf-blood was biting at her full lips, her blonde hair in disarray as if she had been running her fingers through it for quite some time. And Manx, dressed as they usually were in immaculate black, looked to be holding back anger of their own.

“No… calm…” Kern struggled to speak through a sudden and dangerous looking mouth full of fangs. Then he began to speak in a language so old that even Bran couldn’t take his meaning. The sometimes hissing, sometimes guttural words were dark and nasty as they invoked fear even in Bran, someone who had faced death by decapitation, and were sounds that no human throat could replicate.

Kern’s eyes tracked wildly across the room for a moment before he took a step toward the chalk portaging circle that still faintly glowed with the magic that Kern had invoked to get them to The Wild Hunt.

“No.” Manx boldly stepped in front of the behemoth that The Stag had become, unafraid and their voice ringing with authority. “You will not go tearing through this city hunting for him. That would destroy all the work we have done to keep ourselves hidden from humanity.”

Kern spit out a few more strings of sound masquerading as ancient words before he tried to push past Manx, but the master of The Wild Hunt was not having it. They snapped their fingers and an eerie red glow surrounded Kern.

He spun around, fresh anger and betrayal dancing across his face before he collapsed into a gigantic heap of flesh, fur, and horns on the ground.

“Fuck,” Manx spat out, standing in the middle of the room, looking up at the heavens as their fists clenched in rage at their side. They stayed standing there for a moment before they began to visibly calm. One by one, their major muscle groups began to loosen, starting from their bare feet and traveling upwards until a placid look came over their face. Then more gently, “Fuck.”

Gracefully spinning toward their fallen subordinate, Manx squatted and easily lifted what had to be the tremendous amount of weight of The Stag before they easily began to carry him down a darkened hallway, after shooting them all a look that said not to move even as no words passed through their lips.

“So, I am Bran.” The Raven spoke in the uncomfortable silence that fell as Manx exited the room, carrying Kern like he was an injured child. “I agreed to become the newest member of the Hunt.”

“Bran,” the Wolf muttered, her eyes flaring gold for a moment before they settled into a rich amber color. They were beautiful.

“That I am.” He offered her a nod before turning to stare at the battered looking man on the couch. “And I am at your service.”

Tearing his eyes away from the man who smelled distinctively of cat and sand, he faced the wolf again, noting that she had moved a bit closer while he observed the other man.

She was beautiful. Her hair was a wild swirl of blondes, golds, and silvers leading him to believe that she would be a silver-white wolf. Her skin was tanned and her eyes were that searing amber that resembled heated steel on a blacksmith’s anvil before he pounded out the shape of a sword.

ABOUT STEPHANIE BURKE

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.