Tag Archives: Changeling Press

RELEASE BLITZ: A Barista for Christmas by J Hali Steele #LGBT #HolidayRomance

Posted on by
Reply

Title: A Barista for Christmas

Author: J Hali Steele

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: Dec 8, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 64 pages

Genre: Romance, Christmas Romance, Gay, Second Chance, Age Gap

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

With a lot of hard work, Aspen Ferris’ dream of owning his own coffee shop has finally come true. Unfortunately, renovations are almost complete on a nearby mall that will house a chain coffee establishment. Not only that, Christmas is a few weeks away! When the electricity goes out at the mall, the construction company’s owner visits Asp’s store. Insulting the pushy brute gets Aspen thoroughly told off and… kissed! A kiss he can’t forget.

Dandridge St. Clare speeds to his worksite to handle an electric outage and misses his morning coffee. Locating a place to grab his caffeine fix, he’s offended by the barista at Your Coffee Cup. Anxious and upset, Dan pulls the man over the counter and can’t resist kissing the handsome jackass. On top of that, he enjoys the best cup of coffee ever. More unsettling still, he can’t erase the taste or feel of the man’s mouth. Dandridge returns for more of both.

The holidays are approaching and neither man expects much. Both get more than they bargained for.

Excerpt

A Barista for Christmas
J. Hali Steele
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 J. Hali Steele

Three stores from the corner, a wall of plate glass gave Aspen Ferris a great view all the way to the end of the block. He removed his net cap as he watched a big silver pickup emblazoned with a Rayburn & St. Clare Construction logo tool around the corner, causing a car to slam on brakes in the intersection. Tires screeching turned pedestrians’ heads. “Did you see that?”

“Wow!” Eric Winters, Asp’s oldest friend and partner, gawked over the counter. “Close call.”

“Animals. They’re animals.” Asp finished restocking the sugar packets in the ceramic bowls on each table, checking napkin holders and filling glasses with wooden stirrers as he made his rounds.

“Asp, don’t stoop to the level of name calling.”

“It’s true.” His mood darkened under Eric’s scolding. “They’re stone-aged he-men.”

“For goodness sakes. Stop.”

Almost complete, the renovations to the stores in the nearby strip mall included competition Aspen resented. The Bean and Leaf had already opened, and they were hanging dreadfully festive Christmas decorations all over the damn store. Aspen hated Christmas. Morning rush at his shop, Your Coffee Cup, had dwindled to a crawl. Staring out the window brought him no comfort. “Can you believe The Bean and Leaf is already prepared for the holidays? Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away and I haven’t even purchased decorations.” Malls nearer the city were probably alight with holiday cheerfulness and teeming with shoppers Asp had no wish to join. It seemed a trip to Walmart was in his future as he’d volunteered to shop for decorations, thinking it might help him get a handle on his angst regarding Christmas.

“At least business was brisk this morning.” Air huffed from Eric’s mouth. “Get prepared, Asp. It is our first winter open and people will decorate all around us. I know it’s not your thing.”

Not anymore. Aspen ignored his partner’s hint. “Traffic is picking up. It looks like the whole town is heading to grab a fancy cup of coffee and factory-produced pastry.”

Eric wiped around the coffee pot he had filled before coming to stand at a table near Aspen. “Most travel past here to get on the highway into Philly. You know that.”

“They’re going to kill our business just when we hoped to hire permanent staff.” Open twelve hours a day, six days a week, Aspen and Eric took turns working Saturdays with help of part time high school students. Sundays they were closed. “If we only had a few more months to get established. Why did the section of the building housing The Bean and Leaf have to be finished with its renovations before other shops?”

“Asp, Rayburn & St. Clare Construction provides jobs for struggling families in town.”

“We can’t compete with chain shop prices.” Asp sat on the windowsill. Pulling his legs up, he tucked knees under his chin.

“Don’t put your dirty shoes up there!”

“Sorry.” He settled his feet back on the floor. “Our coffee is better. Richer.”

“More expensive. Lowering prices, we might scrape by until people discover Your Coffee Cup serves the best in town. For now, Asp, we could buy pastries in bulk and forego homemade from the bakery across town. Maybe we should consider staying open later.”

“Your Coffee Cup is not a restaurant, Eric. We agreed six in the morning to get the early traffic and close at two. Now we’re coming in at five to set up and staying after five cleaning up since we serve food until four.”

“Business is better.”

“I yielded to your suggestion of salads and sandwiches along with a soda fountain, but this is a coffee house and we’re green. Doesn’t the environment mean anything?”

“Adding food, I don’t know if we’re just a coffee shop anymore. Our bottom line has improved with regular customers stopping in for meals to take home.” Eric sighed. “Hell, I don’t know if the idea of serving only coffee was ever feasible.”

“Our salads have become popular and most folks seem to appreciate our meats are sliced fresh for each sandwich.” Shaking his head, Asp added, “They’ll want french fries and a pickle next.”

“You’re right. We better order potato chips.” Eric laughed so hard, the table he rested his hip on squeaked against tile.

“Smart ass.”

Eric sighed. “If we had a dime for every time someone asked for a carryout coffee cup…”

“Your coffee cup. Bring your favorite travel container or we provide mugs they can use should they remain on site. And we do have carryout cups.”

“Go-green paper cups which sometimes spring a leak before they get out the door. And I’m doubling them to alleviate complaints.”

“I hoped we could make a difference.”

“I hoped to entice more of the workers from the site to at least see what we have to offer,” Eric shot back.

“Last thing we need. A bunch of rowdy construction workers tracking in.”

“If I recall correctly, big with an air of rowdiness is just your type. Anyway, they’ll be gone soon enough.” Eric winked. “Your loss. You need to get laid, my friend.”

Purchase

Changeling Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes | Smashwords

Meet the Author

Growl and roar — it’s okay to let the beast out. — J. Hali Steele

J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of… Well, she can’t do those things but she wishes she could. A winning ex-quarter mile drag racer, J. Hali often angles to get her butt back in the driver’s seat!

Multi-published, best-selling author of romance in Paranormal, Fantasy, and Contemporary worlds which include ReligErotica and LGBTQ stories where humans, vampyres, shapeshifters, and angels collide—they collide a lot! When J. Hali’s not writing or reading, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a cat in her lap, and a cup of her favorite beverage of the moment.

Website | Facebook | Goodreads

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

TEASER TUESDAY: Iron (Hades Abyss MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance

Posted on by
Reply

 

A Dixie Reapers Bad Boys Romance

Hades Abyss MC, Book 11

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: November 24, 2023

 

 

Nari – Pain. Humiliation. Those are the things my father taught me,
and every man I’ve met since. Running away from home didn’t fix
anything. Now I’m nineteen and back in the town my family calls home.
I haven’t told them I’m here, and I don’t plan to. But I
also didn’t count on a biker giving me a ride, and leaving me at the
Hades Abyss compound. They say they’ll help me, but can I trust them?
What if they’re just as bad as all the others?

Iron –I’m no stranger to the darker side of life. Sometimes
I’m the monster lurking in the shadows. Still, there’s a line I
won’t cross. I will never harm an innocent woman or child. The moment
I saw the tiny Asian woman cowering in front of Titan, I wanted to protect
her from the world. She’s been beaten, yet she’s not broken.
I’ve never met anyone like Nari before. Despite how timid she appears,
she’s stronger than she realizes. I know I’ll do whatever it
takes to make her smile and keep her safe, even if it means getting blood on
my hands. The moment her family tries to take her from me, I’ll show
them what it means for Nari to be mine.

 

WARNING: Iron is intended for readers 18+ due to bad language, violence,
and adult situations. There’s no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a
guaranteed happily ever after.


EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Harley Wylde

 

Nari

My cheek pressed into the carpet as Gio held me down. I knew I’d be
covered in bruises within the hour, if I wasn’t already. Nothing new.
It seemed all I had to do was breathe in order to piss him off. I’d
only stayed due to a lack of options. Leaving Gio would only mean taking a
chance on someone else. Men didn’t help runaway teens for nothing.
They either made us drug mules, thieves, or prostitutes. I couldn’t
think of a way to escape. Everyone I’d ever trusted had betrayed me.
Why should that change?

If things had been different, if my family had cared even a little, I never
would have run away. Living at home had been awful, but my life on the
streets was far worse.

“You stupid, worthless cunt! Where’s my money?” he asked
for the fifth time. As if my answer was suddenly going to change.

“I told you I don’t have it. I couldn’t find any work
today, Gio.” Or more accurately, I hadn’t found a mark. Stealing
was my forte.

He leaned in closer. “Then you have a choice, Nari. You can pay the
money by spending a few nights at the house on Spruce, or you find a high
paying job before morning. Which is it going to be?”

I swallowed hard. It wasn’t really a choice at all. I refused to go
near drugs, and I really didn’t want to be a whore. I couldn’t
understand the girls and women who chose that path. I didn’t look down
on them for it, but it wasn’t something I’d ever voluntarily do.
Of course, if I wanted a legal job, there was always the strip club. Except
I hadn’t really been blessed in the curves department. I didn’t
even need a bra. Who the hell would pay to watch me take my clothes off?
Now, letting him use me as a whore in his brothel? That was a different
story. Those men didn’t much care what a woman looked like, and I knew
he wouldn’t be sending his top customers my way. All they wanted was a
living woman to fuck, although it wouldn’t surprise me if some
didn’t even care if I was alive when they fucked me. I’d learned
the hard way just how screwed up people could be.

“I’ll find a job,” I said. “Please, Gio. I really
tried.”

He finally released me and stood. “Fine. By sunrise, you better have
something lined up. If not, don’t bother coming home. You either take
your ass over to Spruce, or you better run.”

As if running would do me any good. He’d track me down and things
would be even worse. But I had to try. I refused to go down without a fight,
or at the very least a last-ditch effort. If only I’d known I was
heading this direction the moment I walked out of my dad’s house. Not
once had I seen my picture on the news or in any papers. He’d never
bothered to search for me. Why would he when he had his precious Joon?

Maybe I could go home. Or at least back to my hometown. I didn’t
think Gio would ever think to look for me there. He knew how much I hated
that place, and the hell I’d been through while I lived at home. Yeah.
I should go back. I didn’t bring in enough money for him to chase me
across state lines.

I waited until Gio left, then packed a small backpack. It wasn’t like
I owned much anyway. Grabbing the little bit of cash I’d managed to
hide, I shoved it into my satchel and left the house for the last time. One
way or another, I was leaving this place behind. I didn’t care if I
had to hitchhike all the way back to Mississippi.

Every step made pain explode through my body. I stopped to put on my hoodie
and made sure my face was mostly covered. I didn’t need anyone seeing
the marks on my body and stopping to ask questions. A rumble of a motorcycle
came up behind me and slowed. I quickly glanced toward the street and
realized the man was eyeing me.

I assessed his overall size and wondered if I could outrun him. Men
prowling the streets for women always spelled trouble.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” he asked.

I took in every detail of his appearance, from his Native American genes to
the leather cut declaring him part of the Reckless Kings MC. I hadn’t
heard of them, but there was a group of bikers in my hometown. They’d
been a little scary, but I’d never heard of them hurting kids or
anything. Was his club the same? Just because he looked rough and little
scary didn’t mean he was a bad guy. Sometimes, the ones who looked
like wholesome decent men were the most vicious.

He sighed and inched the bike closer. “Look. My name is Crow.
I’m not going to hurt you, but it looks like you’re in some
trouble and trying to get out of here. So you can get on the back of my bike
and I’ll take you as far as I can. Or you can keep walking and hope
whoever you’re running from doesn’t catch up. With the way
you’re moving, I’m going to assume someone beat the hell out of
you.”

I winced. He noticed that? “I’m going to
Mississippi.”

“What part?” he asked.

“Ever heard of a club called the Hades Abyss? I’m going to that
town,” I said.

He nodded. “I know them. Get on and I’ll make sure you get
home. It’s a little out of my way, but it’s fine.”

Without another thought, I climbed on behind him and put my arms around his
waist. It wasn’t my first time on a motorcycle, even if it had been
years ago. It also wasn’t the first time I’d put my trust in a
stranger. He’d either keep me safe, or I’d trade one abusive
asshole for another.

“I’m Nari,” I said. “Thanks for the
ride.”

“Sure thing, kid. Hold on tight.” He twisted the throttle ,
revving the engine, then eased the bike forward. As he picked up speed and
shifted gears, the wind whipped the hood off my head. I closed my eyes and
pressed my forehead to his back. For the first time in forever, I felt
free.

I didn’t know if I’d made the right choice, but there was no
going back now.

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

Author’s Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook: @harleywylde

Author on Twitter: @HarleyW_Writer


Publisher on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram: @changelingpress


Preorder Today


TEASER TUESDAY: Bewitched by the Bear by Jessica Coulter Smith #ShifterRomance

Posted on by

A Paranormal Women’s Fiction / Shifter Romance Novella

Date to be Published: November 17, 2023

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

 

Discover the power of true love in this spellbinding tale of magic and
adventure.

All Amara wants is to live a life of adventure, without being tied down.
With the dark fae relentlessly pursuing her, she needs a place to hide. Her
gram’s cottage seems like the perfect spot, but the old witch’s
words leave Amara unsettled — What you seek is in Cutter’s
Creek.

Alpha bear shifter Hale is determined to safeguard those closest to him.
His life takes an unexpected turn when he crosses paths with a captivating
witch. Enchanted by her very presence, he’s unable to banish her from
his thoughts.

As destiny ties them together, not even the dark fae will destroy their
newfound happiness.

Uncover the magic in this fast-paced, insta-love story that’s sure to
warm your heart.

 

Publisher’s Note: Bewitched by the Bear is based on the previously
published short story Ruby and the Bear. Bewitched has been expanded and is
now twice the length of the original story, complete with a new ending and
steamier scenes. No cheating and a guaranteed happily ever after!

 

 

 

Excerpt

Lunar Cycle’s dance floor cleared the moment the wolf and the bear
began circling one another. Hale Klein watched as his cousin, Duncan Hunt,
flexed his claws in his partially shifted wolf state. It took a hell of a
lot of anger to hold a partial shift, and Hale figured Duncan had to be
running on pure rage. He had to admit, he had it coming. Hale didn’t
know what had come over him since losing his father, but something inside
him had twisted. He’d taken a lucrative business of being a security
consultant and warped it. For years, he’d been a gun for hire, for the
right price, regardless of whether he was fighting on the side of good or
bad. But as his cousin faced him, fighting for the place of alpha within the
pack, he realized perhaps he’d gone too far. His hold, at first, had
been tenuous, as the adopted son of the rightful alpha.

This fight wasn’t pointless, exactly, but Hale could think of better
things to fight over — no woman was worth bloodshed. Not that’d
he’d wanted Marissa. It was more that Duncan had wanted her, and
suddenly she’d become the most attractive of women to Hale. He loved
rubbing his cousin’s nose in his alpha status, but this time,
he’d overstepped. Even he could admit it to himself at any rate.
Tricking Marissa into his bed and then tossing her aside like
yesterday’s garbage might not have been the best of plans. In his
defense, she’d been eager enough. If she’d truly loved Duncan,
she would have never strayed.

Looking back, Hale had to say that he wasn’t proud of himself. As
he’d gotten to know Marissa, he’d realized what a sweet girl she
was, and she truly hadn’t deserved what Hale had done to her. Even
still, her heart hadn’t completely belonged to Duncan. Hale had to
wonder if she’d only accepted his cousin because of his status in the
pack. Either way, was it really Hale’s fault she’d run away?
Duncan seemed to think so.

“Your reign over the Silver Crescent Pack is at an end,” Duncan
growled through his shifted snout. “It’s time for justice to
come to our lands.”

And you think you’re the wolf for the job? Hale taunted
telepathically. No one had been able to beat him in the seventy years
he’d been on this earth — what wolf could beat a bear? — and
definitely not in the twenty years he’d held the position of alpha.
What made his cousin think today would be any different?

“It’s time for a wolf to rule the wolves.” Duncan snapped
his jaws.

Bring it!

Duncan lunged at him, arms opening wide, claws brandished like the weapons
they were. Hale was bulky in his current form, but he also had power the
wolf couldn’t hope to match. Rising to his hind feet, Hale towered
over his cousin. Swiping out with a paw, he caught Duncan right across the
cheek, his claws sliding into the wolf’s skin like butter, leaving
three perfect slashes.

The wolf howled in outrage, twisting to come at Hale once more. Before the
bear could scramble out of the way, the wolf’s claws embedded in his
sides, leaving gouges in his tough hide. Hale snarled and broke free,
spinning to immediately launch another attack at his cousin. As his massive
bear paws arced through the air, his cousin charged.

Hale braced himself for the impact, claws aimed right for his
cousin’s flanks, their razor-sharp points digging into meat and
muscle. Duncan howled in outrage again, this time falling to his knees
before the bear. Hale didn’t want to kill his cousin. He only wanted
to prove a point. Opening his jaws wide, he fitted his mouth around
Duncan’s neck, forcing the other shifter to his hands and knees in
supplication. Hale growled long and low, not stopping until Duncan whimpered
in defeat.

Backing away from his whipped cousin, Hale shifted back to his human form.
Towering over the shifter now covered in wounds, Hale flexed his muscles,
ignoring the twinge in his sides from his open wounds, and kept his gaze
steady as he stared down at Duncan.

“Are we done?” he asked.

Duncan changed back to his fully human form and nodded. “We’re
done.”

“I’m sorry Marissa ran away, Duncan, and I’m sorry for
taking her from you. But there is no way that woman was your mate. If she
was, she wouldn’t have fallen into bed with me so easily. She would
have fought to be by your side, not caring whether or not the alpha was
interested in her. All she wanted was power, despite her sweet nature.
Females are all the same. They want the strongest in the pack, unless they
find their true-mate. Then no other male will do.”

“You don’t know that she wasn’t –”

“Yes, I do. And if you think about it, you’ll realize it too.
Since you’re worse off than I am, I’ll let you see the healer
first. Get your wounds tended and go home.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

Shaking his head in disgust, Hale turned, grabbed his shredded clothes off
the floor, and made his way through the crowd and outside the club. It
wouldn’t be the first time he’d driven home naked, and he
doubted it would be the last. There would always be someone wanting to
challenge him, someone thinking they were bigger, tougher. It hurt that his
cousin had been the one to instigate a fight with him. They’d fought
over the years, but it had always been more like sibling rivalry, not a
to-the-death fight over being alpha.

Hale dug his keys out of his pants pocket and slid into the large truck in
the parking lot. As the door slammed shut, he tossed his clothing on the
passenger’s seat and put his key into the ignition. The engine turned
over and he backed out of the space, then pulled out of the lot. He knew he
should just head home, to the alpha’s house in town, and call it a
night, but he wanted solitude, time to think, time to regroup. Being the
alpha meant he had an open-door policy, ensuring his pack could come to him
for whatever they needed regardless of the time. Change was coming. He could
feel it in the air, and he wasn’t certain if it was the good kind or
the bad kind.

About the Author

Jessica Coulter Smith is an acclaimed romance writer with a passion for
storytelling. Her works showcase the power of love and its ability to
transcend boundaries, capturing the hearts of audiences worldwide. With a
unique writing style and perspective, Jessica continues to inspire and
entertain readers from all walks of life.

Author on Facebook

Author on Instagram

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

Pre-Order Today

 

 

TEASER TUESDAY: Ice (Bones MC) by Marteeka Karland #MCRomance

Posted on by

 

(Bones MC 14): A Bones MC Romance

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: November 10, 2023

 

 

Ice — The second to last thing I expected when Cain called Church was for
him to resign as president of Bones. The last thing I expected was to be
voted in as president myself. So when I found myself on a rescue mission for
the daughter of the Devil himself? Well. I wasn’t surprised at all.
What did surprise me was the woman herself. Sure, I’d met her on more
than one occasion, but the teenage girl I’d seen a couple of years
before is definitely not the woman I pull out of the rushing water when she
gets stranded in the middle of a hurricane.

Dawn — Coming home during a hurricane isn’t one of the smartest
things I’ve ever done. Neither is getting mixed up with the man who
was the reason for me taking such a risk. So when I’m stranded with
water overtaking my car, I thought I’d finally tempted fate for the
last time. Until my guardian angel plucks me from the water and saves me. In
more ways than one. He’s the new president of Bones MC and a man I
can’t deny I want with every fiber of my being.

 

WARNING: Ice features a protective hero, a determined heroine and includes
graphic violence and adult situations that may be triggers for some readers.
Eventual happy ending and no cheating, as always.

Excerpt

 

Marteeka Karland

All rights reserved

Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland

 

“Dawn!” The man had to raise his voice over the wind though we
weren’t to the point where he had to yell. Yet. “We need to get
back to my ride.” I looked up at the man who held my arm in a firm but
gentle grip. He was gruff and insistent, and I thought I recognized
him.

“Cliff?”

“Yeah. They call me Ice now. I’m takin’ you back to the
Salvation’s Bane clubhouse. Are you injured?”

I shook my head. “No. Just wet. I’m sorry I left the
car.”

“The storm surge is starting. With high tide coming, the
water’s gonna rise fast. You didn’t have a choice.” He
took off his rain jacket and put it around me, helping me thread my arms
through it before zipping it up and pulling the hood over my head. He
tightened down the laces so the wind wouldn’t immediately blow it
off.

“We’ve got to go three blocks that way.” He pointed in
the direction he wanted to take me. “All you have to do is stay on
your feet and keep your head down. Can you do that for me?” Looking up
into his face, I nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”

Ice had a firm grip on my hand as he led the way. We moved quickly through
the flooded streets, the water now up to our knees and rising fast. The wind
was howling around us. Even though he’d tightened it almost
uncomfortably, my hood didn’t last two seconds once we were out of the
relative shelter of the doorway. My hair whipped into my face, making it
almost impossible to see where we were going. But Ice was a strong presence
beside me, guiding me through the chaos with a steady hand and a sure sense
of direction. Every so often, he would lean in close to my ear to be heard
over the wind, giving me a few words of encouragement or advice.

“Keep your head down, Dawn! We’re almost there!”

I nodded, gritting my teeth against the driving rain and pushing on through
the water. My legs were aching with my effort and my clothes were soaked
through, but I refused to give up. I trusted in Ice and his ability to get
us both to safety because my dad trusted him. No one failed my dad. Not if
they wanted to live.

Finally, after what felt like hours of trudging through the water, we
reached a parking garage. Ice took me up one level to the second floor. It
was low to the ground but up high enough to keep us out of the water. I
hoped.

He led me to the Bronco I’d been expecting and opened the back.
“I’ve got some dry clothes and food. Might be too big for you
but you’ll be warm and dry.”

Exhausted, I slumped against the vehicle, breathing hard. Once we’d
made it to the parking garage, the going had been much easier, but the wind
still howled through the structure and I was spent.

Ice opened the back of the truck. The tailgate swung out and he urged me
behind it. He stood on the other side and turned his back, effectively
guarding the open side from prying eyes. Surprisingly, the place seemed
deserted. I’d have thought there would be other people taking shelter,
but the town was small. Maybe they got everyone evacuated or to an actual
shelter before the storm started.

He turned his head to the side, not looking at me, but like he was trying
to see if I was moving. I wasn’t.

“You good?”

“I-I d-don’t know.”

Carefully, Ice turned farther until he saw I was still dressed, then he
turned all the way and stepped closer to me. “You’re safe, Dawn.
I swear I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you with my
life.” Intense, dark eyes bore into my own. He was so tall and big, he
loomed over me. I should have been intimidated but I wasn’t.

It was in that moment I realized why my dad trusted Ice so much. He was
capable, strong, and fiercely loyal. He was also my calm in the middle of
this storm. Literally. I also knew that like Cain and El Diablo, Ice was
every bit as capable and sure of himself as they were. As I looked up at
him, I saw a flicker of something in his gaze that made my heart race.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from the wind and the
rain.

Ice’s hand found my chin, tilting my face up to his. “Trust me
to see you through this. Yes?” I nodded. “Good. Get some dry
clothes on. I’ve got your back.”

As I looked up into his face, one strangled sob escaped me. I thought he
might look disgruntled or annoyed. Instead, Ice’s eyes got big and he
rocked backward like he was going to step away from me. Then he shook his
head and reached for me.

“Come here, honey.”

Having Ice pull me into his arms was the very last thing I expected. He
surrounded me with his big frame, those strong arms holding me tightly when
I felt like I was going to fragment into a million pieces.

I wanted to break down. Wanted to let the fear wash through me so I could
cleanse myself of it. Get it out of my system. But this was only the
beginning. I knew the worst was yet to come, and that was assuming we could
get out of this stupid parking garage and to the Salvation’s Bane
clubhouse.

“Take some deep breaths for me.” His gruff voice was oddly
soothing. His arms around me kept me grounded when I knew I was so in over
my head — literally — there was no way I could fight this on my own. I
could feel the heavy muscles of his chest where I had my cheek on his wet
shirt. The water was hot from the heat of his skin and as he rubbed one hand
gently up and down my back, the tension lessened inside me somewhat.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. This is a pretty scary situation.”

Strangely, I felt a laugh bubble up in my throat. “You can say that
again.”

He grunted, holding me a few seconds longer before pulling back. “You
can do this, Dawn. Get some dry clothes on and I’ll do the same. Then
we’ll check in with Thorn and Ripper. They’re keeping an eye on
the weather minute by minute.”

“I think Shotgun is too.”

“I’m sure he is. Likely, he and Ripper are in constant contact,
conferring with each other and figuring out the best course of action for
us. They’ll get me the most accurate information they can, and
I’ll decide what we do next.”

Again, I nodded. “OK.” I took another breath. “OK. I can
do this.”

He nodded sharply at me. “Of course, you can. You’re El
Diablo’s daughter.” He raised his chin looking proud. Of me?
Then he turned his back so I could have some privacy.

 

 

About the Author

International bestselling author Marteeka Karland leads a double life as an
erotic romance writer by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day.
Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in
spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable
heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful
ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are
speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight
entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that
elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook


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


Pre-Order Today


NEW RELEASE: Lord of Fire by Alice Gaines #DarkFantasy

Posted on by

Lord of Fire (Night Lords 1)

A paranormal women’s fiction novella

When Krista Harris’s sixth sense sends her to a hidden cave, she discovers a portal to Underworld that will open only for her.

Alexus, Underworld’s Lord of Fire, awaits her there, eager to show her a land full of sensual delights. He sends Krista’s heart up in flames. The sex is great, but Krista isn’t sure she’s ready to commit to being his mate, no matter how beautiful he and his world might be.

Excerpt

Krista Harris hadn’t bothered to report where she was going to anyone. It was her vacation, after all, but that was still a big no-no. Once they found out she’d gone into a cave without letting anyone know, they’d think she’d suddenly lost her mind. Maybe she had, but something had been compelling her to do exactly that for days now, and she didn’t want anyone following her.

Her coworkers had heard enough about her extra sense. Most flatly didn’t believe her, and the others who had tried understanding were tired of her false alarms. In truth, her feelings failed her sometimes, but this time they’d come to her so forcefully. At first in dreams, and then she occasionally got images while awake. Something or someone was trying to call to her, and the messages had led her to this opening in the rock.

This had to be the right place. She could almost detect a voice in her heart. Distant but male. It whispered almost inaudible words. Come, and what followed might have been to… me.

She was no spelunker, but this forest held several caves. There could be one just on the other side of the entrance. She hadn’t heard of anything of interest here. Tourists flocked to Oldtown Caverns on the other side of town, but nothing indicated past visitors here. Maybe that voice hadn’t called to anyone but her. Even more reason to search for the source.

She eased into the cleft in the rock. She could easily ease back out again if necessary. She had had the good sense to wear a helmet with headlamp and bring a lantern so she could see her way around.

After a yard or two, the passage widened until she’d left it behind. Now standing in more space, she trained the lantern around and toward the ceiling. The light extended quite a distance in all directions. The place had to be very large, indeed.

Now, the sound buzzed in her head, the words she’d thought she’d heard coming through more clearly. Definitely, Come to me.

She’d had psychic experiences before, but none so strong. Her heart pounded. Sensing stuff and hearing voices in her head were two different things. In fact, the latter usually meant you were crazy.

She could return to town and get some professionals to search here. They wouldn’t listen to any sort of fantastic declaration, but people still found caves here from time to time. They would get excited to learn about a new discovery. Especially if it turned out to be spectacular enough to attract tourists.

But that voice was calling to her. It had sent her here, not someone else who could try to take credit for finding this cave. And maybe if she brought other people with her, the voice would go silent. No, she had to follow it.

Come. This time it had direction, so she headed after it.

Another opening appeared, in the rock straight ahead of her. Larger than the first. In fact, it looked like someone had carved a door. A trick of geology? In any case, she was expected to go through it, so she did.

Light greeted her on the other side… a glow emanating from the walls of the new chamber. Some fluorescent insect or moss? Such things did exist. She’d seen it on a nature program, hadn’t she? And the air was warmer than you’d expect. Where had heat come from? Caves, they had here. Volcanoes, no.

But tourists would love this place where you could easily get around and the air was warmed somehow. There also had to be a scientific explanation for the light. But for now, she wouldn’t share it with anyone. This was hers.

No, it wasn’t. It belonged to someone else, and she’d been invited. But yes, it was, too. That made no sense.

Come, Krista.

Shit. Now it knew her name. How in hell could that be true? “Who are you?”

No answer came. Fear coiled in the pit of her stomach, but she wouldn’t go back. If she did, she’d only return until she could learn why she’d been drawn here and whose voice she heard. She had to keep going.

She went deeper into the cave, the light and the warmth never leaving her. Each step drew her closer to whatever waited for her and to the owner of that voice. Eventually, she found herself at the top of a stairway. Torches along the side descended into another chamber below. Her hand on the rock wall beside her for support, she went down slowly.

So, someone had built this and had been around recently to light the torches. It wasn’t her discovery, after all, although few people must know about it. She’d never heard stories about a cavern that had been turned into a fantasy play space. She’d obviously found something cool… whatever it was.

When she got to the bottom, she faced two huge wooden doors. They parted silently, showing what looked for all the world like a royal chamber. A chamber full of fire.

She ran back outside the doors and was preparing to dash back up the steps when the voice called out loudly. “Stop!”

She glanced back inside. The place wasn’t full of fire. The flames rose up on the side walls almost to the ceiling. Self-contained, it didn’t seem to want to spread but rather to frame what went on inside. Still, it was spectacular. And frightening.

“Come in, come in,” the voice ordered.

She went back in and discovered that at the end of a long carpet stood a small dais, complete with a throne. A man rose from it.

“It took you long enough to get here,” he said.

The same voice she’d heard, at first in her head and then leading her through the cave. “That was your voice telling me to come?”

“Commanding you.”

About the Author

USA Today best-selling author Alice Gaines has published several sensuous and erotic works. She prefers stories that stretch the imagination, highlighting the power of love and sex. Alice has a Ph.D. in psychology from U. C. Berkeley and lives in Oakland, California, where she sings in her church choir.

NEW RELEASE: The Wild Hunt by Stephanie Burke #PNR

Posted on by

The Wild Hunt

Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Chaos envelopes the not-so-innocent lovers who dwell within the decadent BDSM club The Wild Hunt.

The Stag (Wild Hunt 1)
The Stag, Kern, is on the prowl. He wants more than a one night stand with his perfect Faunus. If he can only convince his little mate to take a chance on him, and still protect his lover from those who would do him ill…

The Wolf (Wild Hunt 2)
As a member of The Wild Hunt, Caille 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.

The Bear (Wild Hunt 3)
Arcas, the Bear, refuses to follow his fellow Huntsmen’s example. He immediately claims his mate, Marshal, a descendant of the cat goddess Bastet. Their pairing will be powerful and his mate is courageous, wise, and sexy as hell. Too bad they have to bring down the remnants of a murderous cult and stop a demonic disaster from being let loose on the world. The Hunt is on the move and nothing will stop them from achieving their goals: rescue Kern’s mate and save the world.

Excerpt from The Stag

“Good evening, denizens of The Wild Hunt,” a deep, smooth feminine voice announced as the club stilled. “If I may direct your attention to the front of the stage, I would like to introduce your hosts for the evening. May I present to you, The Stag…” A spotlight flashed on the high, elevated platform shrouded by sheer black lace that cast intriguing shadows against the blood-red walls behind the people gathered there. The spotlight danced over what appeared to be three figures clustered around a large fainting couch before it settled on a large, muscular figure with the most amazing set of antlers attached to his head. As the stage lights brightened a little, the figure… The Stag… crossed arms over the most exquisite chest that Thomas had ever seen. He could admit it. He drooled a little just looking at what he could see of the man and knew from the spike in arousal from the scents of the bodies around him that he wasn’t the only one.

“The Wolf,” the voice continued, but Thomas could only tear his eyes away from The Stag long enough to take in the shadowed features of a woman with a set of very realistic wolf ears perched on her head, with a gorgeous animatronic tail that waved as she crawled over the fainting couch to lounge at the side of another figure who was beautifully reclined upon the massive thing but still cast in shadows. After noting that there was indeed a wolf being introduced, his eyes went back to the masculine form, still mostly in shadows, with the magnificent rack of horns that he suddenly recognized.

Thomas peered down at his ticket and the black logo embossed on the gold card. There, above the bold black lettering was indeed the set of horns in profile, the very set of horns he was staring at when the announcer spoke again.

“The Bear.”

And yes, that man highlighted by the spots was indeed a huge bear of a man. Taller and broader than The Stag, The Bear, was near the bottom of the couch with crossed arms as well, and his muscles just popped.

“Mercy,” Marshal whimpered, tugging at Thomas’s scarf again. “The things he could do to me.”

“Like break you in half,” Thomas whispered, his eyes going back to The Stag. It was like he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“And the beautiful, the charismatic, the dangerous owner of this fine establishment, ladies, gentlemen, those undecided, in between, or neutral, may I present to you… Master of The Hunt!”

The spotlights disappeared as the stage lights went up fully and everyone got their first real look at their hosts for the evening.

The Master of the Hunt was shrouded in black silk robes that hid his or her frame. Seriously, this was a case of true androgyny and Thomas would bet what little magic he possessed that it was exactly how the Master wanted it. Their face was covered in a lacy black veil that hid their face entirely. Their hair was a dark, wavy fall that was not contained and allowed to fluff up wild and free, almost as if it had a mind of its own.

The Wolf was now lying at The Master’s hip, her lightly tanned skin a startling contrast to the solid black of the fainting couch and the silk that surrounded The Master. Her light gray wolf’s ears twitched as the painted black fingers of The Master gently stroked over them, and her matching tail thumped once in happiness. Her hair was a blending of perfect blondes that flowed over her shoulder and around a toned body wrapped in bangles and chains of sparkling silver. She glanced over the crowd with disdain and stretched her long, tight frame before settling at The Master’s side, contentment pouring off of her in waves that Thomas could almost feel.

About the Author

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.

Follow her on Facebook!

NEW RELEASE: Shifting Forces by Cassidy McKay #shifters #romance

Posted on by

Shifting Forces (Protect and Serve 8)

A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novella

Aurora Monroe has detailed plans for her life — and not one of them includes being barefoot, pregnant and under the thumbs of two decidedly alpha males. But what’s a girl to do when she has two sexy shifters both trying to claim mating rights?

When two paranormals on opposite sides of the war save an injured human, they unintentionally mark her as their wife. Bonded by blood, fire and passion, the gryphon and phoenix shifters do everything they can to keep their new human mate safe.

Getting her to go along with the plan is a different matter. She has no intention of following their orders. Found in defiance of both human laws and paranormal traditions, the battle for their rights turns into a fight for their lives.

Sex between a human and her two shifters can be spectacular, but is it worth risking everything for a chance at forever?

Excerpt

Varick’s Blog

“Paranormals are just like us. They deserve equal rights, equal status under the law, and no less than our full understanding and cooperation!” I watch from the outskirts, close enough to hear, but not a part of the crowd. A smattering of applause greets the pretty redhead as she finishes her speech on the stairs in front of the white columned government building.

A heated, spicy tingle warms my body as she steps down, her nipples tight and visible in the oh-so-proper sweater she wears over a blouse against the chill wind. Staid, gray slacks demurely outline her curvy figure. Mmm. Definitely my kind of woman… proper on the outside, but all fiery and full of fight on the inside.

Only a few dozen people brave enough to show up for the rally now stand in the square. It’s mostly your typical malcontents and troublemakers, but there are a few who look like they might actually give a damn.

I can’t decide whether the woman has balls of steel or is dangerously naive. More than likely, a little of both. A tall, unkempt man makes his way to the front of the group, standing on the concrete base of a light pole like a monkey, spouting obscenities and tossing crap about how humans are better than paras. The crowd grows, becoming restless as the man yells, gaining the attention of the cops outside City Hall.

I stay in the shadows of the storefront across the street, where I can watch without being seen. Easier said than done most times, but I’ve gotten good at it. Most of us have. Coming out as a paranormal isn’t a fashionable, celebrity thing to do anymore. It’s a life sentence. The government took care of that. So much for equality.

I’m Varick Gerard. Used to be a paramedic, but now I’m labeled a criminal. Just because I’m a shifter, I was legally forced out of my profession, my home, and the comfortable life I once lived. Phoenix shifters aren’t inherently evil. Given the choice, I’d rather save lives than take them. I don’t like to fight. While some of the other paras here live for nothing else, it just isn’t my thing. I don’t steal, I don’t destroy things, and I don’t kill people unnecessarily. I may have lost everything else, but I still have my principles.

Me, I’m a loner. It’s a phoenix thing. Most of us are. I don’t mind being around people, I’m just not into long-term commitments. Sex? Yeah, I’m definitely into that. I can burn up a bed like nobody’s business. And that woman up there — she’d be right at the center of my pyre of passion on most days.

But not today. Something’s in the air, I can feel it. I’ve been chased out of more cities than I can remember, just because I choose to survive. What’s left of the local police force musters in front of the building. Riot shields and batons at the ready, the leader shouts into a megaphone for the crowd to disperse. Chaos has a strong following in this town.

The cops advance in a restless, unsteady line — a phalanx of toy human soldiers pitting themselves against the evil paranormals. Same shit, different location. That isn’t what’s bothering me, though. There’s something else, just on the edge… It’s like I can almost feel it, taste it, but it keeps slipping past me.

“Hey, phoenix-dude, come on! The goon-squad is coming out to play.” A short, pimply vampire pauses, motioning for me to join the unruly mob gathering in the shadows, waiting for their chance to pick someone off.

He’s annoying — hangs around all the time, always trying to get me to kill something with him. I think he just wants to see what a phoenix can do. Lucky for him, I’m not really a joiner. “No thanks, I’m heading out. Good luck with that.”

He shrugs and sprints off, his fangs standing at attention and ready to rumble. Idiot. Time to leave this burg. I don’t need the cops on my ass or any more problems than I already have. It’s not worth the trouble.

A woman’s annoyed yell yanks me to attention. “Leave me alone! I haven’t done anything wrong!” The redhead struggles against one of the officers, landing a solid whack on his neck where the protective gear doesn’t protect.

My smile fights to break free — the girl’s a fighter, all right.

“Submit willingly, Miss, and you’ll just be charged with disorderly conduct.”

The cop doesn’t look old enough to have graduated high school, let alone wear a badge. He can’t seem to decide between juggling his shield, going on to a more willing arrestee, or grabbing his cuffs and taking his chances against the wildcat.

My bet is on the girl.

About the Author

Cassidy lives in the beautiful state of Washington and is surrounded by mysterious rain forests, tempestuous oceans and enough gorgeous scenery to inspire stories for at least another two hundred years.

She’s been reading romances since she was thirteen, and writing them since she was fifteen. However, the serious writing bug didn’t bite until much later in life, inspired by her talented husband (who is also a writer!).

TEASER TUESDAY: Antler and Bone by Siondalin O’Craig #PNR #Fantasy

Posted on by

 

(Celtic Magic 5): Mabon –Autumnal Equinox

 

Paranormal / Fantasy / Women’s Fiction

Date Published: 09/15/2023

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC


 

Maine artist Libby McNulty’s dreams are haunted by the terrifying Wild Hunt
of Celtic legend. As if that isn’t bad enough, the landlord threatens her
and her friends with eviction in order to turn their apartments into more
profitable condos.

Tom O’Sylvan is a reclusive combat vet who serves as the building manager.
When Libby discovers Tom is also the Huntsman, legendary leader of the Wild
Hunt, myth and ordinary life begin to collide. Can the two of them face
their demons to save each other from danger?

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Siondalin O’Craig

 

Libby McNulty reached a paint-spattered hand toward the chipped mug on the
counter, not turning her gaze from the six-foot-tall canvas standing on a
low easel. Her brush remained poised in the air. A drop of chartreuse paint
clung to its tip, quivering as if envious of the heavy raindrops splattering
the studio windows.

The image of the woman in the center of the canvas looked a lot like Libby,
or rather what Libby would have looked like if she were a goddess of the
hunt in medieval Ireland. The painted huntress wore a green velvet gown
instead of threadbare Lee jeans rolled up around her calves, and her auburn
ringlets bounced free under the canopy of autumn beech leaves, rather than
tucked haphazardly under a bandanna. In her left hand, the woman on the
canvas held a bow, while her right clenched an arrow rather than a
paintbrush. Their luminous chestnut eyes were exactly the same though;
alert, intent, seeing something beyond the edge of the picture.

Libby took a sip of her tea and grimaced. It had gone cold, and the milk
was sour. Its taste spread across her tongue and pulled her mind back inside
the white-washed wooden walls of her studio. She shivered.

The air was cold and damp, colder than it ought to be in September. Soon it
would be Mabon, the autumnal equinox, when the equal length of day and night
brought balance before the long winter slide, through the pumpkins and
trick-or-treating of Samhain, into the darkness of Yule on the longest night
of the year. Usually, the Mabon season meant sunny T-shirt days and warm
sweater nights, but the persistent rain this year had Libby shivering in her
plaid flannel shirt.

She set the mug back down on top of a folded letter pocked with tea stains.
The letter was signed by Dave Wolf, Vice President and Senior Partner of
James Carbill Real Property LLC. In other words, her landlord. It said
something about selling the building.

Despite the fact that she had a five-year lease with a renewal clause, the
letter made Libby uneasy. That lease had so much fine print, so many pages
she hadn’t read. Her anxiousness to sign something that said
she’d have a home and a place for her art for five years had her
putting blinders on, made her impatient.

She ran a chipped fingernail over the thick paper. It was signed in real
blue-black ink from an expensive fountain pen. Libby knew ink and pigments
better than leases; she made most of her own from bits of trees, flowers,
mushrooms, and stones that she gathered from the forest and rocky shore
surrounding this little town of Lisna, Maine. She was able to make ink and
paints from the plants and barks and stuff she found walking through the
woods — materials that were free to anyone who could read the land. Yet
that blessing was so easily used for evil rather than beauty. She pondered
how many people’s lives around the world had been changed, even
eliminated, by the stroke of ink on paper, wielded for power rather than
art.

But I have my lease, Libby reminded herself again. They can’t kick me
out, at least not for another five years. Over the drum of rain, Libby could
hear the creaking floorboards that rested overtop of her studio’s tin
ceiling, footsteps of her little band of apartment neighbors. Straight
overhead was the apartment of dear little KatieMor. Next to that, retired
lobsterman Jim Johnson lived with Mario Perkins. Jim with his cane and Mario
with his walker both relied on the Limerick Block elevator as the only way
they could stay living out their end days in their own hometown. Donna
Constantine, the librarian. The Halls, who had a business training
nonprofits how to organize. And Tom O’Sylvan — Tomayo — the building
manager. Libby often heard his distinctive footsteps heading down the stairs
and out the door late in the evening, his big black Irish wolfhound padding
by his side.

Fingering the triskele medallion she wore around her neck, Libby stepped
back and took another look at the painting. Behind the Libby-as-Huntress
stood a cloaked and hooded figure, its face obscured. They stood at the
edge-line between a harvested field and a late-autumn beech forest. The
Libby-Huntress looked off-canvas, toward where, in the real forest just
north of town that it was painted to resemble, a mysterious standing stone
jutted out of the ground in a mossy clearing. The stone — a foot taller
than Libby, and covered with a patchwork of pale green and orange lichens —
had become a grounding point for Libby in her many hours of wandering
through the woods, gathering fiddleheads, ramps, and nettles to eat, along
with oak galls and dyer’s polypore mushrooms to make ink and
paints.

That man whose face lay hidden below the dark hood haunted Libby’s
restless dreams. She could feel him now, pulling her out of her studio
again, out past the brick walls of the Limerick Block, beyond the small
bounds of the village of Lisna, back into the painting, back into the
trees.

The bright green drop of paint let go and landed with an audible plop on
one of Libby’s black canvas sneakers. Libby looked down.

I just need a good long walk, she thought. If only this rain would let up.
A few hours in the forest would set her back to rights, let her get some
sleep, some real sleep, a night without fractured bits of nightmare shocking
her awake. Visions of the stone, the hooded man, a hunt, and all-consuming
flame.

 

About the Author

Siondalin O’Craig writes romance with the slow burn of a peat fire on an
autumn night deep in the woodland hills. Sip a glass of Irish whiskey, turn
the page, and let the magic overtake you. Siondalin lives in the mountains
of New England where she walks under the trees celebrating the wheel of the
year, grows a luscious garden full of magical herbs, and plays a wicked
Irish fiddle. Follow her on Facebook and email her at
siondalinocraig@gmail.com to sign up for her newsletter.

 

Author’s Facebook

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


Pre-Order Today



NEW RELEASE: Rhyme of Love by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #PNR

Posted on by

 Gil struggles to hide his loss of status from Jack, but when he finally confesses, Jack turns around and blurts out his own secret. Who can Gil trust now?

Jack knows he screwed up but he believes in honesty above everything else. Well, almost. Running the risk of losing Gil, Jack must learn to lie convincingly or he’ll lose SearchLight, his life, and Gil, as well.  

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/45pMAT1
Get it at Changeling Press: https://bit.ly/3s56J2q  

Sneak Peek …

The Founders, the sons of Lady Weinberg, formerly Agent Weinberg, kept their hands largely out of SearchLight’s day-to-day operations. They hadn’t even weighed in when Jack decided to announce and involve all of SearchLight and the heads of most of the magical communities around the world in a discussion of suspicious disappearances.

So, even though he wasn’t a Crown Prince, one miniscule step below ruler of all the world’s basilisks, he and Gil were equals. At least he thought they were.

But this bathroom was spectacular. Extravagant. And Jack felt a little embarrassed about his nudity in such a place. The bed creaked behind him and Gil crossed to him. Jack didn’t want his lover to see the nerves he wasn’t quite sure he could keep out of his expression.

Gil closed his hands on Jack’s shoulders and began to massage. Jack relaxed almost at once as the feeling and scent of his beloved surrounded him.

“Are you all right?” Gil murmured.

“I am now.” Jack glanced over his shoulder, flashed Gil a grin, and pulled away. “Shower or bathtub?”

“Together?” Gil suggested.

“Separately, or we’ll never get out of here.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” But he was teasing because he said at once, “I’ll take the wading pool. I suggest you take the shower stall.”

Jack nodded, padded to the aforementioned, grandiose, glass-walled luxury and busied himself testing the water. There was a towel hung conveniently just outside on a heated rack. He listened to Gil turning on the water in the wading pool. His lover was muttering, “Now, how does she get it to just that right temperature?” That made Jack smile a little. Gil wasn’t used to doing for himself, but he wasn’t a complainer either. He was just a little lost.

As Jack was.

About Emily Carrington…

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

NEW RELEASE: The Big Blue by Anne Kane #shifterromance

Posted on by

Tundra’s a polar bear shifter with a hankering for some Big Blue.

Polar bear shifters are rare these days, and most of them keep a low profile. Tundra knows the rules, but tonight she needs to get laid, and it will take a strong man to satisfy her.

Alex’s buddies call him Big Blue, and they’re closer to the truth than most of them know, but he does his best to hide his true nature — trolls have a nasty reputation in this brave new world.

The very first time Tundra sees Blue, she knows she had to have him. What she doesn’t realize is that she’ll never want to let him go. So when Alex goes to confront the head of a vicious cabal, Tundra follows to make sure he doesn’t get hurt. After all, even a troll’s hide isn’t as thick as a polar bear’s.

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/TheBigBlueGoodreads

Get it from Changeling Press: https://bit.ly/44539CL

Sneak Peek…

A gust of wind drew my attention to the door. The man who entered sent heat curling deep in my gut. Civilized was the last word that came to mind. Hard. Wild. Uncivilized. Yeah, those described him to a T.

A riot of dark hair curled all the way to the blue uniform stretched tight across his huge shoulders. He reminded me of the football players at the inner city stadiums, wide and covered with thick ropes of muscle. A tingle of anticipation raced through me. His dark eyes swept the room with cynical disinterest as he shouldered his way through the noisy crowd, and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to notice me.

“He’s trouble, Tundra. Don’t even think about it.” Sam slapped the beer down in front of me, breaking the spell.

“You know him?” I ignored the bartender’s frown. I was way past needing someone to vet my dates. “I don’t remember seeing him in here before.”

Sam nodded. “Alex is a loner, a beat cop down at the precinct. He doesn’t come in here often. Last time he did, it took me two days to clean up the mess.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice so I had to strain to hear his words. “I heard a rumor that there’s a troll somewhere in his family tree, and I’m inclined to believe it.”

“Really.” I swept my tongue across my suddenly dry lips as I watched the slide of tight material over his ass. “That could make things very… interesting.” Sam snorted and shook his head as I took a long pull on my drink. “That’s one word for it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

I laughed, throwing him a saucy grin as I slid off the barstool. “Warning duly noted. Wish me luck!” Turning my back on his disapproving frown, I wound my way through the dense crowd toward my target.

About Anne Kane

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.