Slave School Dropout (All Wrapped Up) by Dakota Cassidy #paranormalromance

Slave School Dropout (All Wrapped Up Multi-Author 2)

Cover Art by Angela Knight

 

Nyla is a cat. So is Lucas. Nyla is an Egyptian descendant of Bast. Lucas isn’t.

In fact, he’s so far off the scale of high falutin’ lineages, he’s precariously tipped them. That’s because he’s a tomcat.

Nyla and Lucas have been friends for over a year since they met at a shifters’ meet and greet. Until one day, Nyla smells what Lucas has smelled all along. Her lifemate.

What does any good pair of lifemates do when they have to seal the deal? A little bump and grind, but who knew the bump and grind meant floggers and spankings and a host of kinky stuff Nyla had no clue Lucas liked.

Nyla is vanilla. Lucas is not. Lucas is a Dominant who enjoys just a smidge of rocky road with his bedroom pleasures.

Nyla never considered herself submissive. No one is the boss of her. However, these lifemates are about to embark on a journey that will take them both to places they’d never considered.

Oh, and it never hurts to mention that Nyla’s family is a snobbish, upper crust bunch of shifters who will probably want nothing more than to see to it that Lucas and Nyla’s newly acquired lifemate status is revoked by the lifemate council.

It’s High Society meets the ASPCA with a decided twist…

Publisher’s note: This title is available in print. Visit our Books in Print page for more information.

 

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Dakota Cassidy

“I’m so — so…” Well, she didn’t know what she was. She’d been on a mission to find the scent that made her nose feel like it’d exploded off her face and she was so enamored with the “scent’s” ass she tripped on a stupid toy mouse and fell into him. As opposed to sauntering up to him like she was all va-va-voom or something.

That was how she’d planned it in her mind, anyway. She would follow the smell of this Utopia in a pair of faded jeans and saunter up to him like she was the Queen of Sheba.

Sometimes the road to hell and all that rigmarole…

So instead of sashaying like a supermodel on a runway, Nyla Jane Selim fell into yon hottie with not an ounce of sashay and a whole lot of Pee Wee Herman.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to — I think I tripped –” Her nose was overwhelmed with the masculine scent of him. It made her heart skip and do a running vault over the parallel bars.

Strong arms held her for the briefest of moments before helping her to regain her footing and a deep voice, raspy and reassuring, interrupted her apology. “Tripped on a mouse,” he finished her sentence. “Somebody needs to clean this place up.”

Ohhhhhh, oooh, oh. A shiver of delight rippled along Nyla’s spine and she arched into him, keeping her palms on his muscled forearms for a moment more. What a set of lungs… Nyla didn’t know if she should silently curse or thank Amos personally for not cleaning up the kitty condo aisle. “It’s been a bit crazy here and we’re understaffed,” she offered as she squinted, studying his face, angular and rugged.

Her eyebrows rose. No fucking way! Lucas? How could this be? Lucas never smelled like this before. Nyla struggled to find her glasses in the white coat she wore at the pet store. Slipping them on, she peered into her friend’s face as if she were seeing it for the first time, not the like hundredth in a year.

He held a studded collar in his hand, rhinestones and black leather. It twinkled under the bright fluorescent lights of the store. His thumb ran over the studs, giving Nyla another carnal thought that had absolutely nothing to do with a collar and everything to do with slappin’ this face jock down on the floor and slamming him one for Old Glory. Oh, my God! Had she really just thought that?

“I see that,” Lucas commented, his tone rather blasé as he looked over the top of her head and gave a scathing scan of the store overall. “You talk about this place all the time. I thought I’d come check it out. You definitely could use one or two of those plastic Tupperware bins,” he joked.

Nyla stuck her tongue out at him playfully. Okay, so it wasn’t the most efficiently run place, but it had its advantages and a great volunteer program for adopting a pet, which Nyla ran. “Lucas, what the hell are you doing here? You need help with something in particular?”

His smile was cocky and glib, and his dark green eyes hinted that Nyla, for all of her ineptitude, couldn’t possibly help him. “No. No. I don’t need help at all, Nyla. I just thought I’d stop by and see if you wanted to catch a movie. You know that thing we do every Friday night? Me relegated to your fun date pile and all?”

At this particular nanosecond, despite the sharp stab of her nipples poking at her bra like a Dewalt drill bit, Nyla was tweaked. What the hell was going on? They’d been on two dates before she’d determined that they should just be friends. She and Lucas were so alike, ruining it with sex was something Nyla wasn’t willing to do. Lucas was the only person in the world who understood her right down to her Prada heels, and she wasn’t going to risk becoming his squeeze so he could dump her somewhere down the road. They were friends for life — period.

And so now what? He was all of a sudden hot? She and Lucas had shared more than a dozen movies and he’d never smelled like this before. Fuck him for smelling better than tuna. Gathering her best disinterested attitude around her knees, Nyla gave him a narrowed glance before dismissing her moment of insanity and said, “Yeah, let’s do a movie.” While I’m at it, could I do you too?

Oh! Where had that come from?

“Nyla? You okay?” Lucas looked down at her from what seemed like way far up there all of a sudden… was he always this tall? Tall and luscious to boot?

“Yeah, I’m great. You?”

“I’m fine. So, the movie? Wanna go?”

Nyla’s nose twitched again. Oh, my hell, he smelled soooo good. Nyla involuntarily sniffed his shoulder. “Are you wearing new cologne?”

“That’s all me, baby. Nothing new,” he teased. “You were the one who didn’t want to sample it, remember?”

Oh, she remembered all right. As clearly as she now smelled him in a whole different way. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. We’re friends and I won’t risk having to dump your ass and take all of your toilet paper with me when I do, just so we can have sex. I can have that with anyone, but nobody does a good romantic comedy like you.”

Lucas brushed a kiss over her suddenly heated forehead. “I know, I know. I’m the sexless friend.” As he stood closer to her, Nyla fought the urge to lean into his hard frame and the bonfire that was him.

Lucas stiffened and backed away. “So, a movie? Popcorn, soda and your favorite ‘no sex this lifetime’ buddy — friend.”

Nyla cleared her throat. Yeah, no sex. She’d said that a dozen times or so too… what had she been thinking? Nyla put a hand on Lucas’ chest. A chest that now, all of a sudden, out of the clear blue, felt… good.

With that, Nyla turned on her heel and stalked off toward the back room where she fully intended to cleanse her nostrils with sandpaper.

 

About Dakota Cassidy

USA Today Bestselling author Dakota Cassidy lives for a good laugh in life and in her writing. In fact, she almost loves a good giggle as much as she loves hair products and that’s saying something.

Her goals in life are simple, (like really simple): banish the color yellow forever, create world peace via hot rollers and Aqua Net; and finally, nab every tiara in the land by competing in the Miss USA, Miss Universe, and Miss World pageants, then sweeping them in a stunning trifecta of much duct tape and Vaseline usage, all in just under one week. Oh, and write really fun books!

Dakota lives in Oregon with her dogs and has a husband who puts the heroes in her books to shame.

Dakota at Changeling Press| Website

 

 

A Shot at Perfect by Lou Sylvre #NewRelease #GayRomance @Sylvre

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

After a crash left him with new mental and physical scars, Jackie Vasquez has finally regained his focus, flair, and bright outlook. Though he’s letting Brian Harrison’s marriage proposal simmer, it’s not for lack of love. He’s set his sights on putting his life right first — a new job and a fresh start at graduate school. But Los Angeles — the city of devil winds — has new trauma in store for him. Another accident leaves him with the stump of a leg and defeated spirits, adrift despite Brian’s devoted attentions.

While Brian copes with his own emotional trauma, he hopes to break through Jackie’s apathy, but work at Vasquez Security takes more and more of his time and attention. Specifically “the Espen case,” which his boss — Luki Vasquez — has forbidden him to pursue. Help comes on all fronts from friends and family for both Brian and Jackie, but even as it does, danger mounts from outside. Can the two men find their way back to love as well as passion and fulfillment in their D/s roles? Can they survive the confrontation with danger that seems to loom closer and darker every time LA’s hot winds blow?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for January 31st at retailers

  

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Lou Sylvre

The morning after their stellar session, when Brian got out of bed, he discovered Jackie was already up. The fortune cookie was no longer on the night table. Brian walked out into the open front rooms of the apartment looking for his boy, eager to kiss Jackie soundly and get his answer to the marriage proposal.

Jackie had left three of four diagonally cut pieces of cinnamon-toast on a plate, two strips of bacon in a pan, and half a pot of coffee still keeping warm, but he was nowhere to be seen. Brian poured himself a cup of hot coffee and grabbed both bacon strips with his fingers. He sat down in his usual spot at the table, wondering if he should feel disappointed, worried, or perhaps unconcerned. Jackie had certainly demonstrated his feelings for Brian the previous night.

But the question Where the hell is he? kept popping up in his mind as he devoured the bacon and chased it down with coffee. Then, as he helped himself to Jackie’s toast leavings, the question evolved into Why the hell would he leave without a word?

Followed closely by Why hasn’t he answered about marrying me?

Shit. “No” would be better than silence…

Wait. No, it wouldn’t. But shit…

After he polished off the toast and talked himself out of putting a shot of J&B in his second cup of coffee, he remembered that phones and text messaging existed. Hopeful, he swallowed most of the coffee down and went to the bedroom to fetch his phone. Aha! A text awaited, and it was from none other…

— Good morning, Bri. I’ll be home soon. Before I forget. What happened to that broken drawer in the playroom? —

It took Brian a number of seconds before he could even make sense of the question, so far was it from what he’d expected — and desperately hoped — to see, but eventually he put it together. Annoyed, but glad Jackie had at least not forgotten him entirely, he texted back.

— It had a lock, no key, and I couldn’t pick it. I broke it. Where are you? —

Brian waited, sitting on the unmade bed in his skivvies, only vaguely aware of Marley head-bumping his arm hoping for a good scratch and not even noticing the sun blazing through the window and baking his left shoulder. He didn’t get an answer. He sighed very deeply, well aware of how piteous it sounded, and then he moaned, “Dammit, Jackie.” Sure the devil boy would be his undoing someday, he gritted his teeth, resolving not to worry until something clearly indicated he should.

He picked up his phone to send another text, but before he could do so, he got a mixed media message. As often proved to be the case with images, it had taken a long time to get to him, having been sent even before the text he’d already responded to. It was a selfie. Jackie looking very fine and dressed for success, wearing a blazer the same color as his eyes and a tie… one of Brian’s, he believed.

He texted back: You look good. Why are you wearing a tie?

He waited. No answer.

He waited some more. No answer.

He started to wait some more, said “Fuck it” out loud, and sent a final text. What did your fortune cookie say? And wherever you are, be careful.

Brian dressed, walked down to the office, and had already situated himself at his desk and powered up his PC when a reply came.

I love you, Brian.

Brian didn’t reply. He was already tired from the strange interaction. He just gathered up his things and, sighing again, turned his attention to work.

More and more he found he accomplished the tasks of management easily. He whipped through the morning’s e-mails before Livvy showed up, made a pot of coffee, assigned Lonny to manage a personal security situation for Korean corporate officers in Los Angeles for a wedding, and reviewed the latest financial reports with Ahmad. After a break, during which he tried unsuccessfully to reach Jackie by phone and then spent fifteen minutes crocheting with Livvy while she talked about her nephew’s latest musical triumphs, he worked on a plan he’d been putting together to point VSI-LA in a profitable direction over the next couple of years.

LA was rife with security companies, a good number of them with high level capabilities. It was why Luki had never concentrated his energies here — a big market with an even bigger pool of competition, and as successful and respected as Vasquez Security was, it remained a small- to- medium-sized fish in the large pond. That made it difficult to compete with the likes of Security Group International, and SGI’s office in LA was more than triple the size of Brian’s little group.

But he thought the office could do better than it had. The key was targeting the right niche. He’d researched, and he’d found two of the least monopolized areas to be security for transient high level corporate officials — like the Koreans in town this week — and event security for small to medium-sized posh gatherings. VSI was set up well to grow in those market areas, and his report included the necessary facts and figures for Luki to make a decision as to whether to invest in the additional personnel, training, equipment, and advertising to accomplish it.

Now he set his mind to propose one additional area of investment, one he wasn’t at all sure Luki would approve. For one thing, it involved privately dealing with things that technically should be the domain of law enforcement agencies. For another, it involved putting someone in the middle of very dangerous situations — negotiating with kidnappers and dealing with blackmailers — and nobody on staff at present in Los Angeles was qualified. But Brian knew Luki had done that type of work, and he had other agents in Chicago who could do it. Luki could do the training, and Brian really wanted to be trained and to do the work. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to do something so patently risky, except that he hadn’t studied what he’d studied and gone on staff with the London Metropolitan Police in order to spend all his time at a desk.

Whatever the reason, his brain got ridiculously excited at the idea. He’d need a partner, and he thought Amy might be a good choice. If not, they could hire someone. With Luki’s connections in the business, Brian had no doubt they’d pick up jobs if word got out VSI-LA was equipped to deal with them.

Interestingly, he’d found a file indicating Espen had been looking into the same field of operations a few weeks before his disappearance, but he hadn’t compiled any reports except a list of other security companies that offered the same services.

As that thought passed casually through his thoughts, a realization jolted him — as if lightning had struck and revealed Espen’s secrets. Two entries in the notebook had been different than all the others. Both had the letters RL, a date, and what was surely an amount of money. Only one had been crossed out.

Espen was a gambler, possibly an addict. Espen had been deep in debt to someone represented by the initials RL. He’d paid RL once, but not the second time. Around the same time, he’d compiled that list.

It clicked. He hadn’t been thinking of the business, he’d gone looking for help with a blackmailer.

 

More from Lou Sylvre 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.

 

 

Hero Interview: Brian Harrison from the Vasquez Inc. series #bookcharacters #romancebooks

 

Everyone please give a warm welcome to Brian Harrison from the Vasquez Inc series, including the latest installment A Shot at Perfect by Lou Sylvre. He’s graciously agreed to answer a few questions for us. Are you as excited as I am to find out more about Brian? *rubs hands together* Then let’s get to it!

Brian, thank you for joining us today!

Thanks for having me! It’s not often I get to speak to readers myself, so it’s a rare opportunity.

If there was one thing in your life you could change, what would it be?

Well, hmm. I don’t know if I should say this, because I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I think I’d like to leave Los Angeles. I mean, Luki Vasquez—my boss—has been really good to me, and he offered me this position, managing the LA office of his security firm, Vasquez Inc. It’s good pay, we have an apartment to live in without having to shell out LA’s sky-high rents, and it’s never too cold out. But LA’s been crazy ever since we got here—Jackie and I—last year. We’ve been the target of some bad criminal stuff, and Jackie’s had a couple of accidents—bad enough to change our lives. Thing is, though, even saying I want to leave this city—I wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until we get the bad guys, as Luki would say. And first we have to find them.

Do you have any regrets when it comes to Jackie Vasquez?

Good question. You know, in a way I regret that he was out on his own in this city’s traffic, riding a bicycle, when he had his first accident. And I sort of regret not keeping closer tabs on him—I didn’t even know where he was when the second one happened. Shit, even before that, I regret leaving him alone so much of the time in London before we moved here—he almost got killed by a psychopath. But in reality, I can’t regret those things because they weren’t really under my control. I’m a Dom, but not the sort that wants to be a 24/7 Master, and Jackie’s not that kind of sub. We’re D/s mostly when we’re in the playroom. He doesn’t want someone taking control of his life, and I guess I wouldn’t do that if he did want it. So I guess I took the long way around to get to this answer, but my real regret? I lost myself for a while after Jackie got hurt. I didn’t give Jackie what he needed, because I couldn’t get over my own fears. That made it more of a battle to get through the tough times—worse for both of us, but I especially regret the way it hurt him. He deserves better.

And then, hell,, I also regret putting my marriage proposal in a fortune cookie. Word of advice—never do that.

When you were younger, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I wanted to be a cop. I went through a time in my late teens when I really waffled about that—cops get a lot of bad press, and a lot of the time they deserve it. Abuse of power and such. But then I realized that’s all the more reason the world needs good cops, fair and honest cops who are really looking out for people, helping to keep them safe. So yeah, that’s what I wanted to do. And I did—twice. What I do now—private security—isn’t so different, but I’m pretty sure being a cop again is still in my future. We’ll see.

What is your favorite memory?

Oh! Wow. Did not expect this question. I have to say my favorite memory is pretty recent, and of course it involves Jackie. He’s… beautiful, you know. Not just his looks, but the way he carries himself, his sense of humor, and he’s brilliant. He’s also a stubborn, devil boy who likes to push buttons now and then, but even that’s wonderful when I look at the whole package. Uh… Sorry, got a little sidetracked there. So my favorite memory… well, this is my favorite moment from my favorite memory… but why don’t I just let Lou show you. She wrote about it (she doesn’t respect our privacy at all) in A Shot of J&B.

They walked out after all the guests who weren’t staying left, Jackie leading him by the hand through an oak-covered trail with moonlight shining toward them from the open sky of the river. They settled in, opened their bottle of wine, and shared it along with good-natured silence, quiet words from time to time, and a loose embrace. Brian’s arm and larger form sheltered Jackie from a cool breeze off the river, and it added up to more than a friendly hug, but less than sex.

With about two-thirds of the wine gone, Brian set it aside and stood, then reached a hand down to help Jackie to his feet. He was about to suggest they walk back to the house before the family feared they’d fallen in, but facing Jackie, he saw a look in his eyes he couldn’t quite interpret. He seemed neither to plead nor demand, not even to expect, but something in his direct gaze, his slightly open lips, the tilt of his head — they added up to a question, and though Brian’s mind didn’t seem to know the language, his lips and body did.

He leaned in and grazed his lips across Jackie’s once, twice. When he straightened, Jackie’s eyes narrowed slightly, Jackie’s breath rushed out quickly and hitched, Jackie’s fingers fidgeted against his palms — all signs of distress. Brian took a half step back, not letting go of Jackie’s eyes, and held both his hands out between them, palm up.

“Give me your hands,” he said.

Jackie placed elegant fingers in Brian’s broad, strong palms, and when Brian closed them in a tight grip, the younger man’s entire being seemed to relax. Brian

pulled Jackie’s hands toward him and around his back, holding them there as he stepped forward until there was no space between them at all.

Do you have a favorite movie or song? Do you know Jackie’s favorite movie or song?

Well, it’s a little embarrassing, but my favorite movie is Hot Fuzz. (https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0425112/)

Jackie’s a little more of a romantic than me—also more out there in his tastes. (Don’t tell him I said that.) I don’t know his favorite movie, but a wild guess, it’s something like Too Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything Julie Newmar. (https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0114682/) I do know his favorite song—or at least one of them, and it’s kind of a sad commentary. I hope he doesn’t mind me sharing this with you, but if you know anything about his history, you’ll understand why he… sort of feels the lyrics. The song is one Shawn Mendes sings, “In My Blood”.

What was it like the first time you kissed Jackie?

Huh. I have to laugh a little. You maybe expect me to say it was like, fireworks or starry skies or hearts and cupids and symphonic strains. It wasn’t. It was sweet. It was refreshing. It was like waking up to something bright and surprising and intriguing in the best way. But you know what? All I could think of to say was, “Thank you, Jackie. That was lovely.”

What was your first impression of Jackie?

You see, we met when he was just a kid—sixteen. I met him at his uncles’ wedding in Hawaii. I knew right from the start there was something special about him. He was all natural grace and unusual beauty, and I felt like there was some unidentifiable kind of connection between us. But even though I was only in my early twenties, at that age I couldn’t think of him as a potential partner. I wouldn’t allow myself to, but really it was more than that. I couldn’t think of him that way, but I also couldn’t get him off my mind, couldn’t shake the idea we were more-or-less fated to meet. I didn’t see him again for six years, but when I did I felt exactly the same.

Does Jackie have a pet? Do you get along?

Actually my cat, a rescue named Marley, loves Jackie more than he loves me. Also, we have a dog named Soldier. I rescued him, too, but right now he’s living in Washington State with Luki and Sonny—lots of room to run for him there, none where we live in LA. Truth is, he likes Jackie better than me, too. Or maybe that’s not it. Maybe they both just take me for granted, and on the other hand they know Jackie’s something special.

Do you like to read? What’s your favorite book?

I’ve always liked to read fiction, but I don’t do it a whole lot any more—a matter of time and business. When I was a kid I read lots of books about pirates, of all things. More recently I read those books Lou Sylvre (our author) wrote about Luki and Sonny—the Vasquez and James series. Fun! Because you know, Luki’s such a badass, but reading those books I found out all about his insecurities and soft spots. (Oh, don’t let him find out I said that, okay?)

Hey, thanks again for interviewing me. Made me think about stuff, and it’s been kind of fun. I like the idea of readers getting to know me a little bit. I’m afraid Lou isn’t always real nice to me in the books… sometimes she makes me look a little… well, never mind.

And there you have it folks, straight from Brian’s mouth… Now you know more about our hero from A Shot at Perfect by Lou Sylvre. If you’d like to purchase a copy, you’ll find the buy links below.

 

Get the latest Vasquez Inc book HERE

 

A Shot at Living by Lou Sylvre #BDSM #ContemporaryRomance #LGBT

Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Anxious to leave London and its horrors behind, Brian Harrison and Jackie Vasquez move to Los Angeles. Brian hopes working for Luki, managing a small Vasquez Security branch, will leave him more time to live, love, and play with sub Jackie. But Los Angeles awakens old trauma for Jackie, and follows that with a brand new hit.

While Jackie struggles back to health after a crippling accident, Brian strives to find his balance as Jackie’s lover and Dom. Meanwhile, the more Brian defies the order not to investigate the disappearance of the previous branch manager, the deeper and darker the mystery gets.

Can the couple fan the lusty flames still burning between them, rekindle romance, and rise together in time to stand against looming dangers just ahead?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for December 27th at retailers

 

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Lou Sylvre

Oak Flats, Nebraska

It seemed like a hundred years since Jackie had woken up to a Midwest snow day, though in reality he’d watched a blustery snowfall outside this very window in his and Josh’s old room in Kaholo’s house less than a year ago. He’d still been a student at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln, and he’d come to visit his great-uncle over the MLK day weekend. He’d gone to bed that night with clouds obscuring a sickle moon, and in that misty light he’d dreamed sweet and sexy dreams of Brian Harrison.

He’d just found Brian again a few weeks earlier, six years after their first meeting — six years after Brian had helped rescue him from a sociopath at a crime lord’s compound in the Umatilla. Back then, Jackie, an already traumatized teen, had instinctively trusted Brian. When they’d met again last year, he still felt that way — intrigued, connected, and totally safe. He imagined at the time that he might have found a friend, a lover, and the Dom of his sub dreams. Hence the hot visions of Brian warming his dreams that wintry night.

Now, a year later, he smiled at the January morning outside his window, watched the frosted branches glitter under a pale sun riding low in a crystal sky, and snuggled back against that very same Brian in the flesh.

Despite calendar proof to the contrary, Jackie felt years older — no doubt because so much had happened in little more than a year’s time. He’d graduated from the University of Nebraska, got together with Brian, and spent four long, frustrating, scary months in London, England. When he’d left the States, he’d known better than to have specific expectations of what London would be like, or the university he’d be attending, or even seeing Brian more and becoming his exclusive lover and sub. But no one could have predicted the horror story those months in England had become.

Some things had been good — specifically the being-Brian’s-lover-and-sub part. Although, truthfully, Brian had been so busy with work that Jackie had spent a lot of frustrated time waiting for him to show or call or answer his phone. He wasn’t quite sure if trying to keep busy and keep his mind off not seeing his boyfriend was part of the reason he’d gotten into such deep, deep shit. But whatever the reason, it had been shit and it certainly did get deep.

Multiple murder deep. Pair of true psychos deep. Jackie’d had to save himself and a friend from them, and he’d pulled it off pretty well. Still, in the end Brian had come to the rescue with exquisite timing.

In the aftermath, Brian had been politely asked to resign his Scotland Yard job, and Jackie had been less than welcome to return to London University — somehow the blame for his psych prof having been a sociopathic murderer had come to rest on Jackie’s own compact, freckled shoulders. He and Brian had decided they would be all too happy to put London behind them. They’d packed up their things, Marley the cat and Soldier the dog, and booked their flights.

“Maybe we’ll come back someday, though,” Brian had said after they’d boarded the plane at Heathrow, U.S. bound. “I’ve lived here more than six years, and up until now, I loved it. If you were with me, I’d love it more.” Jackie would have been willing to talk more about the possibility, but as soon as the plane reached cruising altitude, with its accompanying reduced engine noise and unplugged ears, Brian got horribly, mercilessly airsick. The subject had never come up again, but he supposed it probably would sometime in the next year or two.

Meanwhile here they were, the two of them, still at Kaholo’s house after Christmas and New Year’s. They were enjoying a very long layover on the way to Los Angeles, where Jackie would be continuing to work toward his master’s and then hopefully his doctorate. Brian would soon be working for Luki. He’d been hired to manage the recently abandoned Los Angeles office of Vasquez Security.

Or, make that VSI — Vasquez Security, Incorporated. After recovering from cancer, Luki had taken a giant step back from his close management and daily work with the very successful business and made it a limited corporation, with Jackie, Josh, and Kaholo owning a 29 percent share between them. Luki held on to his own 35 percent while Sonny held 16 percent in his own right, meaning as a married couple they still had a controlling 51 percent of the business. The rest had been divvied up between Josh’s year-old daughter, Jade, a marvelous friend named Margie, and a stock pool for VSI employees. He’d explained to Brian and Jackie that decentralizing had been part of his plan, making branch managers much more independent.

“I guess that means you’re working for yourself, sort of,” Jackie had said to Brian later while they walked a path through the oak trees at dusk, throwing sticks along the way for Bear, Luki’s chow mix, and Soldier, whose white Belgian shepherd coat made him hard to spot in the snow.

“Hah!” Brian smiled and took Jackie’s hand, warming it even through their gloves. “I don’t think there will ever be even a hint of a question about who’s the boss at VSI, to tell the truth.”

Jackie had laughed and teased, “You mean the answer isn’t going to be Brian Harrison?”

Brian had actually snorted at the ridiculous idea. “Hell, Luki’s nickname is ‘Boss.’ I don’t think ‘decentralizing’ went so far as to change that. And besides who would ever want to argue with him?”

But when Jackie spoke to Jude, Luki’s office admin — who also happened to be a very good friend — she snickered.

“He just thinks he’s the boss,” she’d said. “And I let him go on believing.”

 

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.

 

A Shot of Fear by Lou Sylvre #ActionAdventure #BDSM #romance #Gay #LGBT

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Jackie Vasquez knows he needs to submit to a Dom he can trust—just as much as he needs to manage his own life. He found the right Dom in Brian Harrison, and then romance beckoned them both beyond bindings and safewords. They take the first steps toward a life together in London, where Brian is pursuing his dream career at Scotland Yard, and Jackie is working toward a master’s degree. Their private hours deep in the night brim with both heat and beauty as Brian’s artful vision for bondage makes a masterwork out of Jackie, body and soul.

But time together becomes scarce as a series of horrific gaslight crimes keeps Brian at work and out of reach for Jackie much of the time. Though Jackie is faithful, he isn’t the type to sit and wait for his lover’s attentions. His self-assured ways and his geocaching hobby lead him to a dangerous discovery—all is not as it seems at the University. Trapped in the Gaslighter’s web, he’ll need to use every trick he knows to stay calm and buy time. But will Brian unravel the knot of mystery in time to save the man he loves?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for November 29th at retailers

   

 

More from Lou at Changeling Press …

 

 

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

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.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

 

 

 

 

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

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.

Big, Blooming, & Wild by Isabella Jordan, Michelle Hasker, and Tuesday Morrigan #BDSM #BBW #PNR #scifi #interraciallove #boxset #RomanceBooks

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

These trees have been waiting all their lives to find their women!

Suffering Sassafras by Michelle Hasker: When Gayle settles into her new home in the mountains in North Pennsylvania she meets two of the sexiest men she’s ever seen. These two have a sex appeal she can’t resist — until she stumbles upon them making love in their backyard.

Tied & Tempting by Tuesday Morrigan: Yahara does not do nature. As far as she is concerned, Central Park is all the green the world needs. Kauri does not like humans. They care nothing about the world that is their home. But he must mate. And with a human. Once he catches sight of the tall, dark-skinned full-figured woman that is Yahara, he decides humans aren’t so bad.

Two Fine for Pine by Isabella Jordan: Botans Charles and Christopher have found a wonderful home in Cana, Virginia. When Vanessa Arnault hits town, the twins know their woman has finally arrived — big, beautiful, and exotic. There’s just one problem. She has an idea for a signature line of puppy palaces and kitty condos for her affluent friends back in NY and Paris. Charles and Christopher must win her heart, and claim her as their mate, or risk being cut down and used to make a miniature Taj Mahal for her pet poodle Pierre.

Mulberrilicious by Michelle Hasker: Trisha lost her job due to the economy and her fiancé to a skinny chick. Now she’s moved to Missouri to be with her sister, where  she runs into the two handsome hunks who own a neighboring property. Both want her, and neither cares that she’s a BBW. What she doesn’t know is that they’re not what they seem to be. Oh, and they’re already lovers!

 

Get it NOW at Changeling Press

or preorder for October 4th at retailers

   

 

 

 

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

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

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

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

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

 

or pre-order at retailers for September 27th

 

   

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Julia Talbot

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

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

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

So why was he feeling… jaded?

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

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

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

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

“Yum. Northern or Southern?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmm, no. They all sound lovely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right away.”

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

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

It was damnably lonely.

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

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

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

“Ah. No dinner for him.”

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

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

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

“Kane is on tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

More from Julia at Changeling Press …

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

Website: http://juliatalbot.com

Blog: http://caferisque.blogspot.com

 

 

Unknown Desires by Jax L. Kramer #BDSM #GayRomance #LGBT #NewAdult #secondeditions @changelingpress

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, Gay, New Adult

 

The instant attraction Michael feels toward his new Dominant, Mr. Johns only grows stronger each day. Spending time together in the dungeon is always a fun, unique, and unpredictable experience. Only Mr. Johns can take him to places he’s never known existed. The pleasures of pain and the highs of sub-space were once unimaginable, but now Mr. Johns truly owns him body and soul.

For Michael the most startling emotion is the fear he feels when he’s earned a punishment. Although punishment is meant to be feared, Michael is more afraid of being dismissed. He’s certain each mistake is a step closer to being sent away. No punishment could ever hurt as much as Mr. Johns giving up on him.

Is it possible for Mr. Johns to have any real feelings for Michael, or is has Michael set himself up to be hurt worse than ever before?

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Jax L. Kramer

“Michael, come to me.”

Her voice has that silky tone that always sets my heart to pounding. Today is the day and I have no idea what to expect. I rise gracefully to my feet in one smooth motion as I’ve been taught. Standing straight with my shoulders back, my chest out and chin up, I walk directly to her, my eyes remaining straight ahead.

The man standing with her is taller than I am, about 6’3″. He’s built bigger than I am and I suspect he’s older than me though I’m nineteen so that isn’t a surprise. I can feel his eyes inspecting me.

My nerves are getting the best of me but I don’t move. I control my breathing and wait for my next command. Domme Shannon told me that she had found a male Dominate she believes I’m compatible to serve. I had been stunned and I’m not entirely comfortable with belonging to a man. My family wouldn’t ever accept it. But I’d requested that she find a Dominant she believes will be best for me, regardless of gender.

“Come, Michael,” Domme Shannon says, leading me from the small, sparsely decorated bedroom. She and the man walk casually in front of me, letting me get small glimpses of him. He’s muscular with dark brown hair the same shade as mine. He’s wearing an expensive suit but I can’t spend much time looking him over. I’m led into the office. They sit and I’m instructed to kneel on the floor beside the man.

“Michael Edwards, this is Mr. William Johns. He is looking for a long-term partner and I know that he can give you the guidance you need. Look him in the eyes and answer his questions,” she commands before turning the interview over to him.

Most Doms do not want eye contact. He’s different.

He is nice looking with a strong jaw line. His cologne is pleasant, smelling of some kind of spice. He looks over a folder in his hand, taking his time, letting me wait.

“Michael, most of your hard limits are things that I don’t do.” He pauses as he continues to read. “There are some things that you haven’t tried yet, you marked them as things you would be willing to have demanded of you. Is that correct?” He watches me closely.

“Yes, Sir,” I answer.

“If I demand something and you decide that you can’t tolerate it again, we can discuss changing it to a hard limit.”

This statement requires no reply but my stomach twists as I wonder what he’d like to demand from me. The room falls silent as he looks through the rest of my paperwork and places it back into my folder.

“You are looking for a full time placement and you are employed full time?” His voice is deep and gravelly. It has a sexy quality to it.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What type of work do you do?”

“I work for a construction company, Sir,” I reply. My nerves are increasing as this interview continues and I center myself again.

“If we decide to make this a long term partnership, will you be willing to quit your job?” he asks.

“Yes, Sir,” I answer, but I feel conflicted about it. It’s a great job for someone without an education.

“You’re nineteen?”

“Yes, Sir,” I reply.

“Would you be willing to attend college?”

“Yes, Sir.” This is a surprise. I’d given up the idea of going to college.

“Good,” he says. “If I take you on as my submissive, my rules are not up for debate. I am very strict and trouble will not be tolerated. Punishments will be as severe as required and you knowingly agree to that?”

“Yes, Sir,” I answer. I need this from him and hope fills me unexpectedly. Until now I hadn’t realized how much I needed this. Why do I like the idea of being punished by this man? The idea that something might be wrong with me grows spontaneously.

He looks to Domme Shannon and nods.

“Michael, go wait in the hallway,” she commands.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I answer.

I take a place far enough from the door to allow private conversation. I stand at parade rest with my feet at shoulder width apart, my arms behind my back. They come out of the office half an hour later.

“Michael, gather your belongings. You’ve been accepted into the service of Mr. Johns. Do not disgrace me. You will not be accepted back here if you mess up this opportunity. Understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I answer quickly. “Thank you.”

“You’ve done well and you deserve this. Don’t keep your Dominant waiting.”

I walk briskly to my room and grab my bags. I’ve had them packed since I was told I had an interview today. I hadn’t known what to expect. Another trainee stated that most males are taken by women. I don’t know if that was at their choosing or not. I hadn’t set any such parameters on mine. I wasn’t told until today that a man had been found for me. My feelings, though conflicted, are happy if I’m honest about it.

Carrying my bags, I find Mr. Johns waiting by the door. “Come,” he says simply.

I follow him to a black SUV. Another man waits by the car and he opens the door for Mr. Johns before taking my bags. I wait as he opens the trunk and puts them inside. He then opens the other door for me.

Once in the back seat beside Mr. Johns I sit straight as I’ve been taught. The silence stretches and I begin to inspect my fingernails. It’s an old nervous habit. Mr. Johns’ hand covers mine, stopping my fidgeting. Electricity shoots through me and my breath catches.

“Look at me, boy,” he says and there is a subtle difference in his tone now, strong and demanding. “I expect eye contact unless I tell you otherwise, and no fidgeting or I’ll punish you.”

I meet his eyes for the second time. They are a deep blue and his dark brown hair has a slight curl to it. At a guess he’s in his early thirties. He looks a little like Liam Hemsworth, only more muscular. He is a handsome man.

“You will call me Sir or Mr. Johns. I will not repeat an order. You are to obey any command given immediately. I will give you a copy of the household rules when we get home. Failure to follow them will result in punishment whether you are aware of the rule or not. I suggest learning them quickly. I will add rules specific to you as I get to know you better. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he replies. “Do you have any questions?”

“Yes, Sir,” I answer. My voice sounds nervous even to me as I concentrate on not picking at my fingers. “I was wondering how I’m to pay for college if you want me to quit working?”

“I will pay for you to go to college,” he answers. “I want you to be well educated and you’re still a young man.”

“I’m not sure I would be comfortable with that, Sir,” I answer.

He nods. “You don’t need to be.”

My head is swimming. “I feel like a prostitute.”

“No, you’re not being paid for sex. I want you at home and I want you educated. It’s a win-win for us both. Don’t over think it. I’ll go over the classes with you and decide what will benefit my schedule.” He watches me silently for a few minutes. “I will not waste my time or yours if I feel this isn’t going to work out. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” I wonder what else this arrangement will entail…

 

New Today at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order for May 24th at Online Retailers

           

 

 

Find more titles by Jax L. Kramer at Changeling Press…

 

Jax L. Kramer grew up listening to tales told around the campfire under the stars with the hooting of an owl piercing the night. Jax now lives in Oklahoma and has a daughter, mother and sister who are supportive of the stories crafted by her. Now you’re invited to join the campfire circle. Hurry…it’s not polite to make the Storyteller wait!