RELEASE BLITZ: Second Chance Omegas by Will Okati #LGBTQ #PNR #UrbanFantasy @changelingpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Second Chance Omegas

Author: Will Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: March 24

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 394 pages

Genre: Romance, New Adult, Action Adventure, Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Gay, Second Chances, Sex/Gender Shifters & MPreg

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Synopsis

Second Chance — a small town where anything can happen — and it usually does.

Only You: Once upon a time a teenaged Alpha fell in love with a pretty Omega from the wrong side of the tracks. Zachary was everything Alex wanted — sweet, sassy, and sexy as hell. Alex would have married that boy if Zachary hadn’t run. When the secrets they’ve been keeping come to light, will they shatter their bond for keeps, or bring them together in a forever kind of love?

Yes, You Are: Everyone assumed petite Darian would be an Omega, and big, athletic Coby would be an Alpha. When they met as teenagers, they had no reason to doubt that was who they’d be. But everyone was wrong. Opposites attract like lightning and steel rods when they meet again in Second Chance, but do they have what it takes to overcome the unexpected for the long haul?

Come for You: Gabriel, a dreamer and a librarian, is so shy and introverted that he’s still a virgin Omega at twenty-five — but he can’t help wishing for a fairy-tale Prince Charming. Meet captivating quarryman Alpha Wynn. For them, it’s love at first sight. But the happy ending is harder to come by. Who will rescue who?

Take You There: Ethan teaches music at the university. He’s not looking for Mr. Right, just Mr. Right Now. A quick, dirty alley encounter should have satisfied him. But now Ethan can’t get Blue out of his mind. The smoldering musician who caught Blue’s eye and what they did in the alley, should have been enough. Until Ethan finds him. And then, everything changes. Again.

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Will Okati
Excerpt from Only You

“Coffee, sir?”

“As much of it as you can fit in a cup. No cream but double the sugar. Please.”

The train attendant shook his head, but with a smile and a finger briefly pressed to his lips as he passed over not one but two Styrofoam cups filled to the brim. He was an Omega too, in his mid-thirties by the look of him, and he wore a black jet widower’s ring instead of a wedding band. Things weren’t much easier for the widowed than the unmated or separated. He understood.

Zach took a grateful gulp, not caring that the coffee was hot enough to scald his throat, and asked, “How far behind schedule are we?” Stretching his legs at the next station would do him good; they ached when he stayed still for too long.

“About half an hour, at this point.”

Wishing wouldn’t make the wheels turn faster, but with nothing to look at outside in the dark, Zach adjusted his position so he could get a better view of the passengers in his car. Like most Omegas, he wasn’t very tall. Some new folks had gotten on and others disembarked while he’d dozed, and he liked wondering what their stories were. Two young Alphas who acted like frat bros; interesting, they weren’t the usual size for Alphas, but small and compact and they weren’t at each other’s throats but laughed and joked like best friends. A couple that had to be recently married from the way they could barely resist climbing all over each other; an Omega with a contented smile, probably on his way back home, and —

Oh.

Oh, God.

Zach’s heart jumped into his throat and wedged stuck there even around the burn of his beverage. Three rows ahead, dark wheat-blond hair and a profile almost as familiar as his own turned to smile at the attendant as he refused their offer of coffee. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, he hadn’t seen that profile since he was eighteen, but —
He’d changed — well, he’d grown up, the way everyone did, the bones of his face maturing from soft boyish cuteness to strong, masculine definition. A short beard, trimmed and shaped, that suited his strong, stubborn jaw. The kind of casual suit that would have cost the equivalent of a month’s rent in Manhattan. Elegant hands with sturdy knuckles and deft fingers, and a smile that lit up the train.

He did and didn’t look a thing like the boy Zach remembered but it was, it was, it was him.

Alex.

Zach would have known him anywhere, even if he’d shaved his head and started scowling instead of smiling. If he closed his eyes, he could feel those hands on the bare skin of memory. After all, you never forgot your first.

I love you. And I know you love me too.”

He should stop staring. Alex would sense it any second now, and he might look around, and —

His gaze drifted back up, drawn like a moth to a flame.

Alex. Oh, Alex.

Zach’s body twitched with the first pangs of arousal, wanting what he’d had once upon a time. He remembered it all, and he remembered it perfectly. He dreamed about it, when he slept. The taste of Alex’s skin, the softness and hardness of his mouth and how his eagerness had nearly rubbed the insides of Zach’s thighs raw. The fullness, almost too much and too tight, when he slid inside Zach.

“I love you. And I know you love me too.”

Anger slowly took alarm and unhappiness’s place – anger, and frustration with himself. Zach should have sensed this train was to be avoided. Dodged. Something! And Alex, sitting there as if he didn’t have a care in the world – it was everything Zach had wanted for him, the entire reason he’d left Alex in the first place, but seeing it in the flesh opened all those old wounds back up and made them bleed afresh. The pain from that moment of saying no to what Alex had offered with all his big, warm heart cut sharper than any knife – but he’d had to. You didn’t do that to your first boyfriend, did you? Take him up on a marriage proprosal and tie him down to a shitty life based on a few promises made in the afterglow?

He’d done the right thing by saying no, leaving, and giving Alex his freedom. Zach knew that. Was sure of it. Even if none of that had ever made him feel any better about it.

They must have been traveling farther and faster than Zach had realized, or he was more out of it than he’d known. Between one blink and the next the train’s PA system crackled to far-too-loud life again, announcing they’d reach their next station at Second Chance in ten minutes. Second Chance? What kind of name was that for a town?

Alex looked up at the speaker, nodded in an absent sort of way, and stood to open the overhead compartment. He took out a bulging messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder and stuffed a pair of thick gloves and a warm knit hat in the pockets of his coat. This would be his stop.

Zach caught his lip between his teeth, torn between – it was pure foolishness, the idea of going to him — and sanity, staying right where he was.

Let it go.

Zach would have, really he would. But as Alex walked past him – always so eager to do things, that one; he would start heading for the exits before the train had even come to a halt — he only made it two steps past Zach’s seat before he stopped. As Zach’s heart sank down past the pit of his stomach he saw Alex pause, then turn to look back.

He stopped, just like Zach had, blank with surprise. “Do I know you?”

Zach held his breath. Could he lie? Yes, but this new, matured Alex would have the life experience not to believe him, and he hadn’t changed nearly as much as Alex had. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“I do know you. I know your face,” Alex said. His voice had matured with the rest of him as he aged, going from sweet to firm with a raspy vocal fry on the edges. “Zach?”

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Meet the Author

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always a work in progress.

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SPOTLIGHT & GIVEAWAY: Alan (Devoted Guardians MC 3) by Harley Wylde & Jessica Coulter Smith #mcromance #shifters @changelingpress

Jolene – My life wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t have any real complaints — until something went horribly wrong and one of my potions blew up, killing my husband. Raising our son on my own hasn’t been easy. Grief and guilt keep getting in my way. But a certain biker keeps stopping by to lend a helping hand. Is it wrong I wish he’d do more than fix my porch steps?

Alan – I knew Jolene was mine, even when she belonged to someone else. Now that she’s single, I might have a chance. I can’t rush this, though. Not after what she’s been through. Not till I’m sure she’s ready. I’ll take my time, build a friendship with her, then lay all my cards on the table. Only one problem. I didn’t count on traffickers hitting our little town. Everything’s gone sideways. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my new family safe, even if I have to get my hands dirty.

WARNING: This is a Dixie Reapers Shifter MC story and contains bad language, violence, and adult situations. Recommended for adult readers 18+.

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ABOUT HARLEY WYLDE

When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off-the-charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.

ABOUT JESSICA COULTER SMITH

Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. Today she’s a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.

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SPOTLIGHT: Embracing the Demon by AJ Graham #PNR #DarkFantasy #LGBTQ

Love is always a gamble, but when you bargain with a demon the deck’s stacked in his favor.

Demon’s Bargain (Embracing the Demon 1): Ella is desperate. A vicious dragon stalks her people. The only man strong enough to defeat it is Vaz, the half-demon outcast — banished long ago for his tainted blood. Ella soon learns just how potent a demon’s touch can be.

Living with a Demon (Embracing the Demon 2): When Nate answered a personals ad, he wasn’t looking for romance. But now he knows Pierce is the man for him… even when he finds out Pierce is something more than human.

Playing Games (Embracing the Demon 3): Nate adores his demon lover, Pierce. But lately, Pierce has been distant and preoccupied, and it’s driving Nate crazy. Awakening Pierce’s possessive instincts is a dangerous game to play… but to Nate, the danger just makes it more tempting.

Escaping Darkside (Embracing the Demon 4): After he’s killed in a hit and run accident, Christian wakes up in Darkside — the demon-infested world between life and death. If he can reach door back to Earth, Christian will have a second chance at life. But going back will mean leaving Seth behind forever… and Christian is falling in love with his demon.

Get the ebook from Changeling Press or the paperback from Amazon

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 AJ Graham
Excerpt from Escaping Darkside


Christian woke face down on the ground, head throbbing. A smell like garbage and sewer water filled his nose, and hard, gritty pavement pressed against his cheek. He opened his eyes to find himself lying in a narrow alley between two brick buildings, next to a row of overflowing trashcans.

Christian stood, staggered, and leaned against the nearby wall. What had happened? Had he been mugged? A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he swayed. He must have hit his head. Maybe that was why he couldn’t remember anything. When the world finally stopped spinning, he began to walk.

Run-down, brick buildings lined the narrow street, and fragments of broken glass glittered on the pavement. It looked like one of the bad parts of Chicago, but it wasn’t a neighborhood he recognized.

He heard a low, faint moan, like distant wind, and froze. The back of his neck prickled and he slowly turned.

Four red-cloaked figures stood in the street, motionless. Hoods covered their heads and shadow hid their faces. Goose bumps rose on Christian’s flesh. “Um… hello.”

No reply. One figure stretched out an arm and curled a long, bony finger in beckoning.

Christian swallowed, hard. His heart rose into his throat as fear slammed into his gut like a fist. He took a shaky step backward, then turned and ran, feet pounding the pavement, breath coming in frantic gulps. He looked over his shoulder and saw them following — not running, but floating several inches above the road, their red cloaks billowing behind them.

What the hell was going on?

He kept running, but he could sense the things getting closer, closing in on him. An icy hand curled around his arm, the fingers brittle and thin, yet strong as iron. Cold filled his chest, as if that skeletal hand had reached into his body to grip his heart. He looked into the darkness beneath the thing’s hood and saw the glint of eyes. A weird clicking, chattering noise drifted from that darkness.

Christian twisted away. “Let me go!” He yanked his arm free. His skin still burned where the thing had touched him.

He ran, ignoring the throbbing stitch in his side and the burn in his lungs. There was nothing left in his mind but the desperate need to get away. He ran until his legs gave out, and he sank to his hands and knees, gulping air, each breath like nettles scraping his raw lungs. He looked over his shoulder, shaking. The red-cloaked figures were nowhere in sight. Somehow, he’d lost them.

He crawled to the side of the street and hid behind a Dumpster, hugging his knees to his chest. He looked down at his arm, where the thing had grabbed him. Its grip had left ugly, black burn marks on his skin, and the marks writhed like something alive. Just looking at them made him nauseous. He pulled his sleeve over the burn, hiding it, then leaned back against the brick wall and closed his eyes. His muscles felt like overcooked noodles, but somehow, he managed to drag himself to his feet and resume walking.

Ahead, a row of motorcycles stood next to a low, windowless building with black cement walls. Even from a distance, Christian could hear the pulse of a bass-beat. A dance club?

Whatever it was, he needed to get inside. He ran toward the building, flung open the door, and entered. A blast of warm air and sound hit him. After the eerie silence of the street, the sudden din of music and voices was overwhelming. The club was dimly lit, smoky, and packed. Music thumped in his ears. Christian squeezed through the crush of bodies, his gaze darting back and forth. Sweaty shirts surrounded him wherever he turned.

“Ow! Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry. I –” Christian looked up and his jaw dropped. The thing staring down at him had the body of a weightlifter, but from the neck up, it resembled a cross between a bull and a lion, with curved black horns, a shaggy mane, and sharp fangs. “What are you staring at?” growled a deep, rough voice.

“S-sorry,” Christian stammered and backed away.

Had he stumbled into some sort of costume party? No, that hadn’t been a mask. He’d seen its mouth move.

He stepped on something that felt like a rope and heard a snarl. He looked down to see a long, furry tail pull away, and something with three horns and four eyes glared at him. Christian stumbled backward.

Breathing hard, he made his way through the crowd. He spotted a silver-haired girl in black leather. Relieved to see someone relatively normal-looking, Christian grabbed her arm. She looked at him. Her eyes were huge, almond-shaped, and completely black, without whites or irises. “Excuse me, Miss, I’m sorry, but could you tell me…”

She opened her mouth, revealing inch-long fangs where her canine teeth should have been, and hissed like a cat. He backed off. His head swiveled back and forth. Everywhere he looked was a creature out of a nightmare. There stood a man with a wriggling mass of tentacles where his mouth should have been. Across from him loomed another man with the head of a hawk and four feathery arms.

A hand grabbed his arm and twisted him around. He found himself staring up into a face that was almost human, except it was black — not brown, but licorice black — and topped by a pair of small, spiral horns protruding from crimson hair. The man dragged Christian through the crowd, out the door, into the cool night. He shoved his face into Christian’s, eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here? You’re not from Darkside.”

“I don’t even know how I got here. What is this place?”

His lip curled in an unpleasant expression that was half-grin, half-sneer, revealing tiny, sharp fangs. “You’re from Earth, huh?”

“Earth? You mean we’re not on Earth?”

“Oh boy, are you in for a rude awakening.” Sharp claws dug into the meat of Christian’s arm, making him squirm. “There’s bound to be a fat reward on your head. The Council doesn’t like it when souls slip through their grasp.”

Breathing hard, Christian tried to pry the sausage-thick, dark fingers from his arm. “Let go!”

“Oh no. You’re not getting away so easily.”

ABOUT AJ GRAHAM

AJ Graham has a passion for cold weather, unusual beers, and anything otherworldly.  Dragons, demons, shapeshifters and psychics have always populated their imagination, but sometimes the real world can be just as fascinating and mysterious.  And no matter the genre, AJ has always loved stories about soulmates connecting.  Whether it’s instant, explosive passion or a slow burn, the power of two (or more) minds and bodies coming together to form a greater whole is always a story worth telling.  AJ lives in the Chicago suburbs with their husband.

Spotlight: Maid for the Mermen (Mermen 1) by Ashlynn Monroe #PNR #UrbanFantasy @ashlynn_monroe

Couch surfing and temp jobs were a way of life for Daisy Daniels after she aged out of the foster care system. She’s always taken life one day at a time and gone with the flow. What she never expected is that flow would lead her down a raging current of uncertainty about her life and the world she knows.

River, Ocean, and Bayou Waterson need someone to keep their island home neat and tidy, but they have a problem. They can’t trust any old cleaning service. They need to find someone who will be willing to overlook their differences. What they never expected was to find a live-in maid they would all love.

When Daisy discovers the celebrity treasure hunters are really mermen, will she be able to keep her head above water? An ancient prophecy brings danger to their doorstep. Forces she never imagined are conspiring to destroy everything that matters to her. The only thing that can save her is a bond she can’t break. Saving the world definitely wasn’t in the job description.

Available from Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Ashlynn Monroe

Daisy had slept — more like tossed and turned — at Sally’s the previous night. It felt weird leaving her vehicle behind at the harbor, the rusty hunk of junk being her most valuable possession. She’d been told to bring a bag in case this worked out and she could spend the night settling in. Everything she owned fit into a large suitcase and overnight bag, so she decided to bring it all. After grabbing her pillow, she looked at the small pile on the ground. So little to show for twenty-one years of life. It caused a wave of melancholy to wash over her while locking the car.

She’d looked for the boat called Siren. It didn’t take long. The huge thing was no boat. This was a yacht. “Wow,” she muttered to herself.

“Do you like her?” a male said from behind her.

Daisy jumped, but she didn’t look to see who’d asked. “It’s pretty. I’ve never been on a boat before.”

“Are you Daisy Daniels?”

When she heard her name, she turned. Her mouth went dry. She’d seen an episode of his TV show with Sally here and there, but she’d always been more interested in playing with her phone than the program. She vaguely recognized this guy as one of the hotties Sally drooled over. He wasn’t just TV pretty. This guy was hot. A total hunk. His long black hair, casually tied back in a ponytail, made her a bit envious. He had a black goatee and eyes so brown they could have been black. His skin, tanned, and his upper body, powerful. His arms looked like they belonged to a body builder. She opened her mouth, at a loss for words.

He grinned, as if amused. “You do realize this job is on an island. The only way off and on is by boat. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

Mort’s had already replaced her with another temp. She needed this job. Nodding, Daisy dropped her overnight bag and stuck out her hand. “I’m up for it.”

“River Waterson.” He shook her hand firmly.

Daisy picked up her bag. She couldn’t help wondering if it was actually his name or a stage name for his reality show.

“Let me take something for you,” River offered. He gave her a tight smile.

“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Waterson. It’s not heavy.” Years of having things stolen made Daisy nervous to hand off her belongings.

“Don’t worry, I won’t run off with it.” He held out his hand. “And please, it’s River. Three Mr. Watersons could get a bit confusing.”

Daisy nodded. Wanting to seem cooperative and make a good impression, she reluctantly let him take the handle of her suitcase. He rolled it behind him as they approached the boat.

They walked to the dock and then up a wobbly metal ramp. Daisy took hold of the railing, feeling a little woozy.

“Careful. You’ll need to get those sea legs if we all agree you’re a good fit,” River said.

Worry nibbled at the back of her mind. His words reminded her this wasn’t a sure thing, but an interview. Whatever happened, she’d just have to figure things out. Silently, she cursed Sally’s idea. It wasn’t as if Daisy qualified as maid material. These guys would probably see that. At least Sally would be obligated to let Daisy crash at her place.

“Do you have time left on a lease somewhere?” River asked.

Daisy mentally cursed. She still wasn’t totally sure how to frame her lack of permanent address, so she didn’t sound flighty. And was this guy some kind of mind reader or just super perceptive?

ABOUT ASHLYNN MONROE

Ashlynn Monroe is a busy working mom. She loves her kids and family. Her greatest joy is creating stories to entertain others, and she hopes they bring a little more romance into the world. She’s been writing since her teens for her own enjoyment but decided in her thirties to share her imagination with readers. Ashlynn enjoys biking, camping, reading, video games, and filling her home and life with love. If she’s not working or chasing children, you can find her daydreaming up her next tale of romance.

Find her online: Goodreads | Amazon | Facebook

RELEASE BLITZ: Rhyme of Longing by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #PNR @CarringtonEmily @GoIndiMarketing

Title: Rhyme of Longing

Series: Jack and Gil #1

Author: Emikly Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: February 17, 2022

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 169 pages

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Urban Fantasy, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Shapeshifters

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Synopsis

Gilbert Sullivan hates his name, but refuses to go by Gil because of a rhyme he fears is a prophecy. When he meets Jack Sowerby, the new head of SearchLight, he’s terrified the rhyme will come true and he’ll lose his place as Crown Prince of the basilisks, but his attraction to Jack won’t let him stay away.

Jack, born human, is, above all things, practical. Still, when he meets Prince Gilbert, his need for the prince blossoms and he’s unable to resist — at least until he’s forcibly changed into a magical creature. He’s terrified of the new world he’s entering. When Gilbert tries to fight the rhyme, will their shattered relationship ever be restored?

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Emily Carrington

Jack wanted so badly to be done with this night that he felt uncomfortable in his skin. That was not the proper way to begin thinking about his sixty-eighth birthday, his five-year anniversary as the head of SearchLight Academy. This was a party for both those things but no one said “no” to Agent Weinberg.

Not necessarily the most powerful magical being in the world, she was still the head of the entire organization. Even though she held the nominal title of “head of Public Relations,” SearchLight’s whole reason for existing was to protect the relationship between magical and nonmagical peoples. Which was, of course, officially, no relationship at all. SearchLight was a secret and must remain so.

The influence she held would make most magical creatures bow in submission. Jack, being merely human, was suitably impressed. And although as yet not cowed, he was too fond of his life to waste it needlessly. Not that Agent Weinberg had killed anyone. Recently.

Jack took a deep breath in through his nose as the limousine pulled up to the curb. He’d been commanded to take this limo and the implicit service of a driver, and although he hadn’t enjoyed it particularly, he was glad that he hadn’t needed to find a place to park in downtown Washington, DC. So, unsure if he was supposed to tip the driver but wanting to show his appreciation, he stepped around to the driver’s side after the car was parked at the curb and offered the person behind the wheel, whom, his telepathic sense, told him wasn’t human, ten dollars.

“Would you be trying to bribe me to take you home, Agent Sowerby?”

Jack saw the humor in the green eyes turned up to his and smiled. “Never in life,” he told the Irish-sounding sprite or Faery or leprechaun. Damn, sometimes he wished for a werewolf’s sense of smell so he’d know the magical creatures around him at once.

“You’re a good man, Agent Sowerby. Don’t let her bully you now.” And with that, he winked and rolled up his window. Jack stepped around the car to the sidewalk and watched the limo drive away.

“Hey there.” The voice was soft, lightly accented, and full of a syrupy, sarcastic undertone that put Jack’s hackles up. He turned more slowly than he could have, wanting to appear older and so less threatening. He gazed at the three people facing him and saw they were all armed.

He was aware of others watching from the doorway of the restaurant but knew they wouldn’t intercede unless it became obvious he couldn’t handle himself. That was one thing about Agent Weinberg he didn’t like much. She believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy.

The woman who’d spoken was smiling in a particularly condescending way. “Got a handout for me?” She twirled the knife in her right hand as she reached out with her left for the ten spot Jack still held.

Jack offered it, keeping a good distance from her, forcing her to step forward to take the bill. He was aware of the other two moving to flank him. He disliked using his telepathic sense against what he considered to be defenseless people, magical or mundane, and yet he wouldn’t risk his own life to preserve theirs. “I suggest you take this and be on your way,” he said softly, putting a slight psychic push into the words. He blanketed the area with his calming presence, lacking the ability to focus on more than two people at once. Both of the men who’d been flanking him stopped. One of them shook his head but the other was definitely under Jack’s control.

“Back off,” Jack said and watched the woman lower her knife a little.

She snatched at the bill and her knife hand flicked upward.

Jack dropped the ten spot and caught her wrist. The knife’s blade skidded across the waterproof material of his trench coat. He forced her to drop the knife as he said, “Go away.”

The man under his control turned and fled. But the other lunged at Jack. Yanking the woman close, Jack used her as a shield. The other man’s blade slid between her ribs. He swore, stumbling back, and lost his grip on his knife. As he turned to flee, Jack lowered the woman to the ground. He shouted, “Someone call nine-one-one.”

Someone joined him out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t Agent Weinberg. It wasn’t a SearchLight agent he knew. There was regal bearing in the other’s posture as he crouched beside Jack. “Let me heal her.”

Jack didn’t protest, although he did skate his telepathic sense outward to determine if this was a magical creature. The fact that he’d said “heal” rather than “help” argued for him not being human. He came into contact with an impenetrable psychic wall and winced as his telepathic sense bounced off. Well, there weren’t all that many humans who could resist even his most casual reach. Ergo, this was a magical creature.

Jack nodded and said, “Go ahead.” He retreated inside his own head and as he pulled out his cell phone, unwilling to trust to others to call for help, he watched the broad-shouldered male beside him spit into his hand and press the palm against the wound even as he pulled the knife free.

Dragon, Jack thought. Dragons could heal with their saliva or a blood exchange. But this wasn’t a dragon Jack knew.

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Meet the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. 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.

Fantasy creatures not your thing? Emily has also created a contemporary romance world, called Sticks and Stones, where she explores being “different” in a small town.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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TEASER TUESDAY: Henry (Devoted Guardians MC) by Harley Wylde & Jessica Coulter Smith #shifters #mages #PNR @HarleyW_Writer @RABTBookTours

(Devoted Guardians MC)

 

Motorcycle Club, Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Shifters, Mages

Date Published: February 24, 2023

 

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Raya — Elias kidnapped me nearly a decade ago and used me for his awful
experiments. His goal: to create a superior race. How could that possibly go
wrong? Now I’m no longer fully human and I’ve lived a life in
hell. But I adore my two kids, no matter how they were conceived. I thought
we’d die before we ever found freedom, but it arrived in the most
unexpected way. The big biker shifter is scary as hell, but it’s
either go with him, or remain chained and starving.

Henry — The dark mage killed my mate and unborn child. There’s
nothing I want more than revenge. It never occurred to me he’d have a
woman and kids chained in his cellar. They reek of black magick, enough so,
I hated them on sight. I’d planned to leave them behind. Until I heard
their story. My club won’t be happy when I walk in with three people
covered in the stench of black magick. But something unexpected happens when
I catch Raya’s true scent. She’s my fated mate, and now I have
the difficult task of not only gaining her trust, but the children’s
as well.

 

WARNING: Contains subject matter some readers may find difficult to read.
Recommended for ages 18+ due to adult situations, bad language, and
violence. Guaranteed happily-ever-after, no cheating, and no
cliffhanger.

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Harley Wylde & Jessica Coulter Smith

 

Raya

Elias paced the small cabin. I didn’t know why we’d come here.
He’d spoken about this town before. Many times. I knew a shifter
nearly killed him thirty years ago. Fatally wounded, he’d escaped to a
community of mages, where they’d healed him. It had taken years for
him to regain his health and full power. He’d often bragged about
surviving.

Why return now? He’d dragged us all over the country. At first,
I’d thought he was running from something. Now I wondered if
he’d simply been heading toward Wolf Creek. Even though I’d been
with him for years, he never confided in me. Not about anything important.
There was no reason for it, since I was little more than a prisoner. His
slave.

I heard the chains clink in the cellar and fought not to wince. It
wouldn’t be long before I joined them. My babies. No matter how
they’d been conceived, I’d love them with all my heart until the
day I died. They were my reason for living. And the only way Elias
maintained control over me all this time. If it weren’t for my
precious children, I’d have run before now.

“It’s nearly time,” he muttered. “I’ll take
her just like the others. I’m sure she’ll be useful. Stupid
fucking dhampir doesn’t know why I invited him to Wolf Creek.
Everything is falling into place.”

Her? I didn’t know who he was talking about, and I would not ask. And
a dhampir? Did he mean the man I’d heard him speaking to a few times?
It didn’t matter. The less I knew, the better. I’d learned that
the hard way. Although, his words bothered me a great deal. Was he going to
enslave someone else? I reached up to lightly touch the collar around my
throat. I hadn’t been the first, nor the last. However, I’d been
the only woman to survive.

Elias not only used black magick, but he also liked to experiment.
He’d abducted countless women across the globe, all in the name of
creating a better species. It wasn’t something recent, either. From
what I’d learned during my time with him, he’d been working on
this project for decades. Even before he’d fled Wolf Creek thirty
years ago. I didn’t know what made me so special. Why had I survived
when others hadn’t?

I lifted my hand and stared at my fingers. Even now, black tendrils of
smoke shifted around the digits. I’d been completely human until Elias
snatched me off the street. Through pain and suffering, he’d infused
me with some of his black magick. I couldn’t actually use it, but it
had become part of my cellular structure, which meant I passed those traits
to my children, which had been his intent all along.

“It’s time.” He rubbed his hands together, a wide smile
on his face. “Into the basement. You know the rules. Keep your mouth
shut. But first… I’m going to prep you for a special guest
arriving within the next two days.”

I knew exactly what that meant. He removed a syringe from his pocket and
injected me with the serum that would make me mindless with need. While he
preferred for me to get pregnant without it, and enjoyed hearing me scream
in pain, he’d used this on me several times before. I honestly thought
he got off on hearing me beg for someone to fuck me. At least, it
didn’t take effect immediately.

Elias tossed the syringe aside and gave me a shove, and I walked to the
hidden door. He opened it and I went down the steps into what I assumed had
once been a root cellar. My children perked up when they saw me. Elias
followed me into the hole, attaching a chain to my collar. I held open my
arms and my babies ran to me. Their chains barely reached, but we were close
enough I could hold them.

I smoothed the hair of my precious little girl, Marigold, and kissed the
forehead of my son, Logan. Mari had not only inherited some of the black
magick, but she’d also gained her father’s ability to shift. As
for Logan, he only had black magick. His father had been a dark mage like
Elias.

“I’m scared,” Mari said.

I hugged her tight and wished I could ease her fears. Instead, I did my
best to tamp down my own. I didn’t think we’d ever escape Elias.
One day, he’d sell my children. When I became useless, he’d kill
me. As it was, I’d lost the last two babies. I knew he was searching
for another male to impregnate me. He’d desperately wanted a baby that
was half vampire and half dark mage. It seemed my body rejected the
vampire’s offspring, as both babies came from the same male.

“When I’m older, I’m going to get us out of here,”
Logan said. “With my magick, I’ll take down Elias and free us
from this prison.”

I placed my fingers over his lips. “Hush, sweetheart. If he hears you
say such a thing…”

He nodded, understanding what I meant. I hated that my children had to grow
up so quickly. They’d never been able to play, make friends, or enjoy
their lives. If I thought it would be possible to run away with them,
I’d have done it long ago. But I knew Elias would hunt us down and
punish us.

The door upstairs slammed, and the tension in my body eased. At least he
would be gone for a while. I felt bad for whatever woman he’d lured to
this town. Would her fate be the same as mine? I hoped not. I didn’t
wish this existence on anyone.

Mari began humming The Itsy Bitsy Spider, and I rocked her. Logan slumped
against my side and stared at the opposite wall. Elias hadn’t even
left us with anything to occupy ourselves while he was gone. There’d
been times he’d left a rubber ball or a pack of crayons and a coloring
book. I knew it wasn’t out of the kindness of his black heart.
He’d claimed it made the children less whiny and more tolerable.

“One day, if we’re ever free of Elias, you’ll get to
enroll in school so you can learn new things. You’ll make friends.
Play outside. Go to the movie theater, the park, learn to swim. We’ll
have so much fun.” I smiled wistfully, thinking of all they’d
missed out on, and the things I’d taken for granted before Elias
kidnapped me.

“Do you really think we’ll ever get away from him?” Logan
asked.

My heart ached at the despair in his voice. My little angel already knew
the answer. No matter how much I’d tried to instill hope in my
children, Logan somehow knew we’d be the property of Elias until he
either sold us or killed us.

I couldn’t answer him, refusing to lie.

Mari dozed a bit, and even Logan closed his eyes for a little while. Every
second was even more agonizing, because time stretched endlessly in the
cellar. At least the lightbulb hadn’t gone out. The dim light helped
little, but it dispelled some of the darkness. Being locked down here in
absolute blackness would have been much worse.

Mari whimpered in her sleep, waking Logan. I smoothed her hair and murmured
to her, hoping to ease whatever nightmare she might be having. Logan blinked
and rubbed his eyes before sitting up a little straighter. I knew he’d
fight to stay awake now. My little boy had grown up entirely too fast.

Mari woke twice and dozed off again each time. While she napped, I told
Logan a story. Mari liked the romantic fairy tales about princes. Logan,
however, wanted action and adventure. His favorites were tales of pirates or
explorers. So I talked about One-Eyed Willie, Captain Jack, and the others
I’d watched in movies when I’d still had my freedom. He ate up
every word, and it helped pass the time.

My stomach rumbled, and so did the children’s. Mari woke again,
yawning and leaning away from me a little. I knew she wouldn’t fall
asleep again anytime soon. Every time the monster who owned us made her go
hungry, she’d be awake for hours. Unlike Logan, who said sleep made
him feel less hungry.

Elias hadn’t left us with any food or water. A bucket in the corner
served as a toilet, but none of us had been desperate enough to use it
today. We’d each had a chance earlier to use the bathroom upstairs to
relieve ourselves and clean up a little.

“He’s been gone a while,” Logan said. “He
didn’t forget us, did he? I’m not sure starving to death is much
better than suffering whatever he’s planned for us.”

With no windows, I couldn’t tell what time of day it was by now.
However, my butt had gone numb from sitting on the hard ground. I had to
have been down here for more than an hour. I listened intently, wondering if
Elias had managed to quietly return. Minutes ticked by, and when I was going
to give up, I heard booted steps. They seemed to scout the entire
house.

Would they find the hidden door to the cellar? Did we want them to? I
caught Logan’s gaze, and he gave me a slight nod. Whatever he sensed
or smelled seemed to make him feel as if the person upstairs wouldn’t
harm us.

“Help! Please, we’re down here!” I yelled as loud as I
could. By the fifth time I’d called out, the door at the top of the
stairs opened and a large silhouette moved toward us. My breath caught when
the man approached. I couldn’t tell his age and depending on what he
was, he could have been hundreds of years old and still appeared
young.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. His gaze narrowed on me before
shifting to my children. I held them tighter, wondering if I’d made a
mistake by calling for help. “Who are you?”

Author Contact Links

Harley Wylde on Facebook , TikTok, Instagram: @harleywylde

Jessica Coulter Smith on Instagram: @jessica_coulter_smith

 

Follow the Publisher

Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress

 

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NOW AVAILABLE: PhilCon or Bust by Stephanie Burke #Giveaway #RomCom #SciFiRomance @changelingpress @FlashyCat

Jabel came for the hot Earth girls. So what if they only have two eyes and no tails. Earth girls are easy, right?

Libby did not come looking for love. In fact, she didn’t even come to get laid. Sex can be interesting when you’re a transgendered woman, and the last thing she wanted to do was risk her body or her mind.

A one night stand is just what they both needed, but then there are assassins and sword fights, and kidnappings…

Whoever said convention life was easy, lied!

Get it today at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Stephanie Burke


Joklim was a mighty warrior, and it showed in his every word and deed. He now stood overlooking the one egg in the hatchery, his gold eyes keen on the electronic readouts that showed this new egg’s development.

“Sponsor,” Jabel announced, leery of walking up behind the older warrior without making his presence known. He had done that once and, even with his enhanced reflexes, he could not dodge the instinctive blow that nearly knocked him out.

“Ha, Jabel.” Joklim turned, and the scarred visage of his Sponsor made Jabel want to stand at attention as he was taught in academy. “How fare you this glorious day?”

“I do well, Sponsor. My Preserver is more than pleased with my progress and now has several offers of Preservership.”

“Ka.” Joklim snorted, rolling all three of his eyes. It was a strange human concept that he had taken to before his own Corps service and had yet to stop. “Preservership does not make the warrior. It is the combination of lines that create the male, the tutorage of his Advocate and Sponsor that gives him his heart, and the training and knowledge of the Preserver that settles it all into place.”

“Still, my Preserver has a lot of offers.”

“Which he will turn down.” Joklim spoke with confidence. “He has already laid claim to this newest hatching. I think he wants to prove the rearing of you was not a fluke.”

“Indeed.” Jabel chuckled. “If he managed to create more of me, I am not sure if the Imperium would be satisfied or horrified.”

“A little of each.” Joklim laughed, tossing his head back, his long black hair flowing down his back in its warrior braid. “But it is a new tradition that will keep them from growing stagnant.”

Jabel thought of the many punishments he had endured because of his stubborn nature and insubordination, but none of his trainers found fault with his skills. He was nearly undefeated, his one loss coming after several hours of hand-to-hand combat at the hands of his trainers early on in his training.

“I am going to Earth Con,” he informed him, watching as Joklim’s smile grew. “I intend to be there for the week-long event in the town known as Philly.”

“I assume there will be much debauchery?”

“You assume correctly.”

“Sex? Consuming of human spirits? Sex?”

“Yes.”

“Take note that I said sex twice, Jabel. I am quite sure you can do my legacy proud.”

“I intend to.”

“Very good.” Joklim took his pleasure almost as seriously as he took his warfare. “If there are problems, an old ally of mine is stationed on earth. Mikhale Fas-something or the other.” Joklim nibbled on his bottom lip, and Jabel felt a flush of pleasure when he realized how like his Sponsor he looked.

They both possessed the long black hair of the Amiret line as well as the tall, muscular form. The difference was in their complexions. Joklim was paler in skin coloration while Jabel was a creamy light brown, the combination of Advocate and Sponsor showing in his skin. They were both of a build, though Joklim’s handsome visage was marred by several battle scars that proved his experience in battling the Dark Ones.

“He knows of the people of Earth and their ways. If there is a need, he can assist you.”

“I thank you, Sponsor.”

Joklim reached out and pulled his first hatchling into his arms, and Jabel relaxed into the hold. He was no longer a youngling to court affection from his Sponsor, but nevertheless, he felt the love and regard his Sponsor held for him.

“Now off with you.” Joklim released him, holding him at arm’s length as he examined him from head to toe. “Have fun, youngling. All too soon, you will be facing the perils of war.”

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.

Find Stephanie Burke Online: Blog | Facebook | Twitter

Enter the Giveaway by clicking the image below.

Giveaway ends February 25, 2023

TEASER TUESDAY: Galactic Treasure by Theodora Marie Adams #LGBTQ #SciFiRomance @RABTBookTours

Sci-Fi Romance, LGBTQ, Alien Encounters, Multiple Partners

Date Published: February 17, 2023

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 

Connor Masterson has finally managed to take some time off and go to Earth Con. For three days and nights, he’s going to get his geek on without worrying about work or the latest edition of his science fiction manga. He never expected to find two men who embody all his dreams and fantasies there and certainly not right after signing in. 

Neither Valvik nor Zaraheed are looking forward to their current
assignment: go to the Earth Con located in Austin, Texas and track down any
and all rumors on the Ark scrolls, an ancient collection needed for the
betterment of their dying people. Neither warrior expects to be drawn to a
human, especially the same one.

The two men are determined to stay as low key as possible while searching
for the scrolls, but that might be hard to do when an intergalactic killer
wants the scrolls for himself.

 

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Theodora Marie Adams

 

“I truly cannot believe you have somehow convinced me to participate
in this harebrained scheme of yours,” Valvik growled through clenched
teeth as he looked around the lobby. It was filled with people clustered in
groups. Some were talking loudly, others were whispering as though fearful
someone other than their neighbor would hear their innermost secrets. There
were humans dressed in their favorite character’s attire, aliens, human and
alien scientists, intergalactic explorers and military men and women, and
everything in between represented in the lobby of the center housing this
weekend’s Earth Con.

Valvik pulled at the hem of his simple white T-shirt. He felt ridiculously
underdressed seeing as more than a quarter of the people there were dressed
to the nines in their costumes and regalia, particularly those with an
intergalactic military background. “I should have worn my
uniform,” he snarled.

“This is an important assignment given to us by General Tsubotai
himself.” Zaraheed turned slightly and looked over his shoulder at
Valvik. His handsome face was a mask of displeasure. One dark eyebrow
arched. “We are attempting to fit in. We are already conspicuous
enough,” he whispered harshly, glancing around at the many eyes
watching them in curiosity.

At six feet eight, Valvik felt Zaraheed should be accustomed to being
stared at on Earth. They’d been dealing with the looks the whole cursed
assignment. Not that Valvik himself was much less physically impressive at
six feet five inches.

Valvik stifled the urge to roll his eyes. It was a very human reaction, and
really he was going to have to stop watching all their television, no matter
how entertaining it was. “Humans are short. We look like giants
compared to them. Second, we stand out because we are wearing regular
clothing, or are you too blind to see everyone else is wearing their native
ensembles? We are meant to be as discreet as possible.”

“By dressing as humans, we actually stand out more,” he grumbled.
He glanced around the lobby again and blinked. “Isn’t that a
Pulloxian?” Valvik asked, and jerked his chin toward the being in
question.

The being wore no disguise, at least none that Valvik could recognize. The
male, and Valvik could tell its gender from the marks on his fur and their
placement, was not trying to hide his large droopy eyes, medium green skin
with black splotches, or his four-fingered, claw-tipped hands. To a human,
the Pulloxian looked like a two-legged basset hound with slightly smaller
ears and green fur. He was as conspicuous as one could get.

Zaraheed followed his gaze. He sighed and his broad shoulders slumped
slightly. His amber eyes searched the group gathered around the Pulloxian.
“Maybe you are right, as that one does seem to be basking in their
attention,” he admitted after a moment of contemplation.

“True.” Valvik continued moving through the crowd so he could
reach the check-in table that stood right in the middle front of the lobby.
His superior hearing was able to capture bits and pieces of the conversation
flowing around him. It seemed the Pulloxian was going to be a “shoe
in” for best costume.

“Still, General Tsubotai was clear about what he expected of
us.”

“I read the mission parameters. There is no need to remind me. I would
just like to point out that if we were allowed to wear our uniforms we would
not be unarmed.”

Zaraheed snorted. “You expect me to believe you are unarmed at the
moment. Do not play me for a fool, Valvik the Glorious. You are probably
carrying no less than five blades on your person.”

Valvik allowed a small smile to settle across his mouth. “I am not as
armed as I would like, and that is the truth. I am sure you feel the same,
Zaraheed the Valiant,” he retorted, looking his compatriot up and
down.

Zaraheed’s dark hair was bound into a single plait. The tail end of his
sable hair swung just between the strong muscles of his back. A few strands
had pulled free from the braid and framed the sides of Zaraheed’s sharply
planed handsome face. His most startling and mesmerizing feature was his
eyes. They shifted colors depending on his emotion, going from the lightest
sunset orange to the darkest color of a flame. Valvik had never seen such
eyes before. He doubted he’d ever see another pair again.

Zaraheed caught Valvik staring. His gaze tightened. “What?” he
asked.

Valvik shook his head. “Nothing. Forgive me. It seems I was lost in my
thoughts,” he admitted as he waved a consoling hand through the
air.

Valvik was still trying to get accustomed to Zaraheed’s dark complexion. As
far as he knew all the members of the House of the Gallant had light hair
and eyes. Valvik’s house, Disciplined, had similar coloring. Valvik had pale
blond hair and lavender eyes.

His dark hair and lightly tanned skin made Zaraheed an outsider, just as
his gorgeous eyes did.

He’d heard rumors that Zaraheed was only half Tolkian. Valvik had done his
best to ignore them as he wasn’t much for gossip but he couldn’t help
wondering about the source of Zaraheed’s mesmerizing features.

This was the second mission the two were working together so it wasn’t that
he’d never seen Zaraheed or noticed his unusual coloring, but there was
something about seeing him in the lobby, wearing the preferred dress of the
North American human male: white short-sleeve shirt and dark denim jeans,
waiting in line for them to sign in for the Earth Convention that made
Valvik all the more aware of his rich coloring.

The clothing should have made him appear as pale and washed out as it did
Valvik, but Zaraheed looked magnificent. A small tendril of desire curled in
his gut when he first walked into the convention center and spotted the
Valiant warrior.

“I hope they are here,” Zaraheed murmured, breaking him out of
his thoughts.

Valvik grimaced, thinking on his words. It would be a shame if the scrolls
they were searching for weren’t on Earth. He personally thought it was
ridiculous that the scrolls their whole legion had searched a thousand years
and several galaxies for was supposedly on Earth and at a science fiction
gathering. He laughed long and hard, until his stomach muscles protested,
when his commanding officer relayed the information, thinking it was a
joke.

Three standard months later and Valvik was in Austin, Texas, waiting in
line for the Earth Convention.

Personally, Valvik didn’t think there was a chance in all the known solar
systems of the Ark scrolls being at the convention, but he went where his
commanding officer sent him. Even if it was the stupidest mission ever.
“If it is… I’m not entirely sure what I will do, but I know it will
include lots and lots of blood,” he muttered. And intoxicants. He would
need barrels and barrels of wine to drink away the insult.

Zaraheed stilled. Valvik turned to look at his compatriot in question.
Zaraheed shook his head as though confused, then, eyes bright, laughed. The
booming sound caught the attention of the people waiting around them and
they watched, mesmerized.

Valvik knew how they felt…

 

 

About the Author

Theodora is an avid traveler who discovered Japanese manga and anime in her
youth, closely followed by yaoi. She’s been in love with pretty boys who
love equally attractive men since then. Theodora can usually be found in a
local coffee shop drinking black tea and typing furiously.

 

Follow the Publisher on Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

SPOTLIGHT: Chunkybuttfunky (Paranormal Mates Society 2) by Dakota Cassidy #RomCom #PNR @changelingpress @DakotaCassidy

Cadence Cranston needs a date. Not just any date, but a date that won’t mind her penchant for blood on the rocks and bat wings. Oh, and fangs… She has awesome fangs.

So Cadence, nighttime DJ and full figured vampire, decides to give online dating a try, but ParanormalMatesSociety.com isn’t just any old online date site. It’s strictly for the shifting community, which is copasetic with Cadence. So she puts up a profile and a picture of herself and jumps into the dating pool, feet first, to find she’s more bored than she was to begin with. Sticking to her own kind of shifter turns out to be kinda droll. Who said she can’t date a demon or a demi-god, for that matter? Or even a werewolf?

Browsing what the site has to offer in the way of “other” shifters, Cadence comes across a profile of a werewolf who’s to die for. Really, he’s that cute. The cute werewolf is Collin Grayson and his profile specifically states that he only wants to date other werewolves. But he’s soooo delish…

How hard can it be to pretend you’re a werewolf?

Available at Changeling Press

Or at your favorite online bookseller…

Amazon (Kindle)
Apple Books
Barnes & Noble
Kobo Books

Praise for Chunkybuttfunky…

“5 Angels! NO ONE does erotic comedy like Dakota Cassidy… The title is fantastic, the tone of the book never varies, and the characters are perfect for each other, with a few exceptions that you’ll have to read to believe.”— Serena, Fallen Angel Reviews


“4.5 Ribbons! Together fire is an apt description of this couple’s interactions and love scenes. There is comedy throughout the entire plot and the characters never fail to bring out the laughs.”— from Angel at Romance Junkies

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Dakota Cassidy

“Hey, all you Milwauuuukeeee night dwellers! This is CC, for the Nocturnal Journals, on B 105.5 FMMMMMMMM. Your lifeline to the nighttime. Call in and give me your views. Yep, I wanna hear them. The good and the oh-so-bad. Tonight’s topic — online dating. It’s the hottest thing in hooking up these days. Do ya think you can really find the match of your dreams in just one click? I wanna hear your story! Gimme a holler at CC-in-the-eve — that’s 224-684-3383. Talk to me, Milwaukee. I’ll be waaaaitiiiiing…”

Cadence Cranston clicked off her headset and swung her chair over to her computer while she waited for the commercial break to be over. Her topic tonight was inspired by her real life experiences, and she was curious to know how many people actually might be in the same sinking boat she was in.

The online dating Titanic-like sinking boat, that is.

Yes, Cadence Cranston, night time DJ and vampire, had joined an online date site to troll for guys. Not just any guys though. These men were of the paranormal persuasion and plentiful on Paranormal Mates Society.

Weeeeeeeee doggie — gazoodles of men to be had in every blessed paranormal category.

It was a new cyber haven, where hooking up with the mate of your dreams was finally a reality. Who knew a place like that even existed for her kind? It sure as hell made finding a date much easier on a vamp. There was no explanation involved if you wanted to hit the O negative for a little pick me up. It was refreshing and required far less hassle than dating a human.

However, this dating thing was becoming her favorite pastime as of late. The e-mail alone was enough to keep her amused for centuries on end. Cadence found herself glued to her computer every chance she got.

It couldn’t be healthy.

Nay, it was downright pathetic…

Ooooh, but look! More e-mail.

Yee and haw.

Cheerist, she was sickly addicted to this bullshit e-mail, sadly compelled to check it every free moment she could dredge up.

As if the man of her dreams was going to pop up, and she might miss it because she was fixing her lipstick in the powder room or something.

Clicking on the date site, Cadence perused her inbox and sighed with defeat. It was too bad that most of the men who contacted her were stupidheads.

So many whacktards, so little time.

To: Chunkybuttfunky@paranormalmatessociety.com
From: Oncebitten2shy@paranormalmatessociety.com
Subject: Dayum!

Dear CBF,

Wow, could I ever sink my teeth into you! Looks like you got plenty to sink into . How about we hook up and nail a herd of cows together?

Dave


Oh-my-God. A herd of cows? What kind of vampire sucked the blood out of cows anymore?

Cadence Cranston shuddered and then, for good measure, she shuddered again.

Fricken’ vampire Neanderthal, knuckle dragging, Angus beef, blood sucking dork… God, what had she been thinking when she’d joined this damn online dating site?

She’d been thinking of sharing her Happy Meal instead of eating it alone…

“Oh, the Internet is the hottest thing in dating,” her friend Pam had said. “You’ll love it. Tons of men to be had,” she’d boasted. “They even have a category for big and beautiful immortals and the like. You’ll get loads of e-mail and have the social life of Paris Hilton. Trust me.”

Cadence stared at the computer screen and flipped it the bird. She’d rather be dead than read one more flippin’ loser’s e-mail.

Oh, wait, she was dead.

Pam had been right. She did get lots of e-mail. It just so happened that for the most part, the e-mail was from psychotic nuts allowed Internet time for good behavior at the wacky farm. However, she was pleased to note that said psychos on the site rather liked her curves. She wasn’t ashamed to call herself big and beautiful, and she was damn proud of the junk in her trunk.

Sighing, she grabbed her mouse and clicked on the reply button. Someone had to tell Dave he was a freak…

To: Oncebitten2shy@paranormalmatessociety.com
From: Chunkybuttfunky@paranormalmatessociety.com
Subject: Re: Dayum

Dear fucktard,

Cadence shook her head. That was mean. Probably true, but still, really not very good cyber dating etiquette. Backspacing and deleting the “fucktard,” she began again.

Dear Dave,

Thanks for your response to my profile.

However, beef is not what’s for dinner.

Good luck in your search,

CBF


There, Cadence thought, buh-bye now.

Oy.

How could it be that there wasn’t a single vampire on this site that appealed to her? ParanormalMatesSociety.com was specifically designed for paranormals in today’s society. It wasn’t easy to be immortal, and finding someone to share that immortality with was harder still.

Yeah, everyone said her lifemate would pop up when she least expected him. However, Cadence was of the mind that until then, she needed to frost her Wheaties and for that, she had to find the Wheaties and some milk.

About the Author

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’s Website

SPOTLIGHT: Illuminated (Vampire Tales 1) by Alexa Piper #vampires #LGBTQ @prowlingpiper @changelingpress

Ethan is a photographer who loves the interplay of light and shadow in his work and what it reveals. While working on his latest project, he finds himself at an abandoned church after nightfall. Lured by the prospect of capturing something unique with his camera, he ventures inside.

What Ethan discovers in that forgotten place is not what he expected. Instead of sights unseen for decades, Ethan finds a man — bleeding, hurt, and in need of help.

What Ethan doesn’t know is that he isn’t freeing an ordinary man, but an ancient vampire.

Through a haze of blood and violence, Ethan will have to come to terms with a situation nothing could have ever prepared him for. Auris drinks blood and deals death with ease, but Ethan soon discovers that the vampire is not just a monster. Auris is more, so much more. As if it were illuminated with a camera flash, Ethan can almost see himself and Auris have a shared future. Yet, those who tried destroying Auris once will stop at nothing to do so again.

Content Warnings: Illuminated (Vampire Tales 1) contains scenes of violence, murder, kidnapping, and torture that may be triggers for some readers.

Now Available at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Alexa Piper

I felt the cold fingers of the changing season reach across the café’s outdoor terrace and right up my spine. The warm fall day drew to a close with the trees all along the coast colored in vermilion and gold, and darkness rolled in with the tide, the sky above pretty as pulped roses.

“Need another?” said the very attentive server. Her eyes were ocean blue, and her golden earrings caught the fading light slanting in from across the water. She wore a surgical mask like most of the staff in the region I’d come across, even though they were no longer mandatory. “You seem to inhale them. You know that might cost you sleep, right?”

I smiled back at her and finished the last of my latte. “I always inhale great coffee, but this will have to be my last. I like to work at night.”

True enough, even if I had captured mostly sunlight and shadows, leaves and people today, not my normal fare. The touristy charm of the place had simply lured me in. That all the cafés I found here had great service, view, and coffee didn’t help me regain my work attitude.

She looked me up and down, no doubt taking in my slightly over shoulder-length caramel brown hair, the piercing blue eyes most people liked to comment on, and — last but not least — my pseudo-geeky Schrödinger’s Cat tee.

“My mother would tell you that a good boy like yourself should be in bed at night. What do you do?”

I laughed and tugged a strand of my hair back behind my ear. “I’m a photographer, and I like editing when it’s dark out. Just a night owl thing. Could I get the check, please?” This was beginning to feel more and more like a vacation, even though I was working. I wanted abandoned places for my next exhibition, and if you didn’t mind a bit of driving, this area had plenty.

“Wow, an artist. You’re the first in Brightam this season, or at least my first. Be right back.” She winked at me.

I nodded, and she took my empty glass and walked away.

My bag sat on the chair to my right. I dug for my notebook and phone. My slightly battered but trusty notebook contained my longhand list of places I wanted to go see. I unwound the elastic that held the notebook closed and checked the list I’d bookmarked with an old receipt for a bagel and coffee against a map on my phone to see if I could still get something done today. If I didn’t, this really would be a vacation day, and I was firmly not on vacation. Besides, I was sure some lowlight photos might add a creepy aspect to my work people often told me was there to begin with, even if I never saw it.

The seventh item on my list was a church that had been abandoned for decades, complete with a garden of headstones surrounding it, and it was only a thirty-minute detour from my way back to Cromere where I had booked my hotel for the month. I had my external flash in the car. Going to the church and getting photos of headstones and a dilapidated building in the background in the almost dark would be perfect.

“Here you go,” the server said and dropped the check on the table. “I put my number on there in case you’re staying in town and want to do something later. Together.”

I had seen that coming about two lattes ago, and I did consider it. Yet, the church actually sounded interesting, more interesting than vacation sex when I wasn’t even on vacation.

“I’m afraid I have to get some work done, actually.” I indicated my notebook before putting the receipt back to mark my spot and packing everything back into my bag. “But thanks for the offer. Maybe another time,” I said and tipped her generously.

She shrugged. “Keep the number. In case you change your mind.”

I did and smiled at her over my shoulder when I left the café.

Over the ocean, the pinks were surrendering to indigo and teal. Night’s breath was icy on the breeze.

* * *

I pulled on my jacket and left the car back at the mouth of the path that led to the church. It was a short walk of not even ten minutes, and I was glad that I also kept a flashlight in the trunk, because even with an almost full moon above, it was dark out here.

The trees grew tall on all sides, branches eating at the dusky sky. Insect noises and the sound of me walking were the only things I could hear, and there was something wonderfully peaceful about that.

I hadn’t lied to the server, I was a night owl and always had been, but I lived in the city, and night in the city was never really dark nor silent. Being out here was a different experience and refreshing in its way.

The church came up ahead of me like a looming scarecrow, raggedy and weather-beaten, but its former function clear even in its current condition. It was slightly uphill, which helped with that perception, but there was something… I had the overwhelming sense that the church had been waiting for me. That was nonsense. Buildings didn’t wait or want. They just were and aged and crumbled, but the fact this place did make me feel like the church was a living being boded well for the photos. I snapped a couple, looking up toward the church.

The church itself was really just a small building that might have held a congregation of maybe two hundred. From what I had read, there had been an abandoned mining town nearby, and the church had been left behind when the ore ran out. The bodies already in the earth had been left as well, a strange sort of exchange for the ore, iron paid for with bone.

When I reached the cemetery grounds, my flashlight licked against dark headstones that were leaning this way and that in time’s pull. With the dark church behind them, all this needed to be a perfect set for a horror movie was some fog and maybe a wolf howling. I chuckled. This was wonderful.

I decided that I would just walk around a bit so I could get a feel for the place, take some shots as I did so to begin with. I turned the flashlight off, put it in my camera bag, and started. The strobing light of my camera flash threw odd shadows that lingered on my retinas. I made my way toward the church doors in a slow half circle, not really planning anything, just going by instinct. Then, with a shot of a cracked church window, I saw that the door to the building was open, just enough to draw a hard shadow in the light of my camera flash.

I stopped and turned my flashlight back on, aiming it at the door. I took another picture even if the flashlight would mess up the lighting. I wasn’t sure why, because I was pretty good about not wasting shots. Some instinct maybe, or a random muscle jerk.

“Oh, opportunity, you call me,” I whispered, running the flashlight up the door, which was indeed open.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa (she/her) has a lot of characters living in her head and wanting their stories told. Many of these people get snarky and won’t stop complaining if Alexa is too slow writing them, which means that for this author, sleep is a luxury. Consequently, Alexa is a coffee addict, but she is sure she has it under control (six cups of coffee are normal in a morning, right? Right!?)

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