Tempting Officer Mason by Cameron Allie #PNR #NewAdult #NewRelease #ContemporaryRomance

Tempting Officer Mason (Love Me or Leave Me 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

For years Riley has been trying to tempt her brother’s best friend into a relationship. She knows Heath has feelings for her, yet he continually thwarts her attempts to seduce him. When he finally agrees to one night with her, he puts steep stipulations on their involvement. Is Riley willing to meet his conditions, knowing it’s only one night?

The night Riley shows up unannounced at his house, shock keeps Heath from turning her away. After that first taste Heath knows he needs to distance himself, but when he shows up to her brother’s engagement party with another woman, he wonders if this time he’s gone too far.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Cameron Allie

Riley put the car in park, looked up at the darkened house, and for the tenth time told herself this wasn’t a bad idea.

She couldn’t believe she’d let Scott pawn off the job of watching his friend’s cat while her brother went away with his girlfriend for the weekend. But Heath was out of town and would never know she’d been sneaking around his house.

Not that she planned to snoop. No. She was just here to give the cat some company.

An argument could be made that because it was the middle of the night she really shouldn’t be there. But Heath was away. He’d never know. So what was the harm?

Hopping from the car, she headed for the front door, her purse in one hand, the spare key in the other. She’d already been to see the cat that morning. She’d spent an hour playing with Sage before feeding her and giving her fresh water. Riley had felt bad leaving the poor thing alone, but it felt weird to be in Heath’s home when he wasn’t there. Hell, it was weird to be in his home at all. He made a point to never invite her over.

On multiple occasions he’d made it clear her interest in him was one-sided. He’d actively avoided her since the dreadful night she’d asked him out. Not that he’d allowed her to get close to him before that.

The porch was dark, so Riley struggled a bit to fit the key in the lock. She looked over her shoulder again. Midnight wasn’t the safest time to be out alone.

It was probably a mistake, but after the disaster of a date she’d just endured, she didn’t relish the idea of going home to her empty apartment. She’d rather curl up on the sofa in Heath’s living room and cuddle with his cat.

It wasn’t like she was going through his sock drawer to see how many condoms he kept stocked in his house. She wasn’t going to sniff his shirts or peek in his closets. She was just doing what her brother had asked. Checking in on Sage.

She pushed open the door, and using the light from the street, set the key on the table by the door. Quietly she shut the door and turned to search for the light switch.

That was when someone grabbed her.

Riley screamed, but it did her no good as she was shoved face-first against the wall. Something cold and hard was pressed against her back. A gun. Aimed right between her shoulder blades.

Her purse fell to the floor.

A gruff voice cut through the darkness. “Don’t move.”

“Oh… okay,” she said on a shaky breath. She pressed her eyelids together and tried not to tremble. Who the hell had broken into Heath’s house? Who was dumb enough to break into a cop’s home?

Quickly, yet thoroughly, his large hand began to roam over her. The gun was still shoved against her skin, as his palm shifted down her side, then slipped beneath the hem of her dress to inspect her thighs, and the space between them.

Confused and scared, Riley swallowed.

She tried not to jerk away from the hand as it frisked her. It was intimate, yet professional. Whoever he was, he was fast and practiced. He knew what he was looking for. He wouldn’t find any weapons on her. She never carried a weapon, and in her little black dress she wouldn’t even know where to hide one.

His hand skimmed along her other side and up to her bust.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” The hand paused on her breast. “Who are you?”

“Please, I…” Slowly his words sank in. Her panicked tone vanished. “Your house? Heath?”

Surprised, he replied, “Riley?”

“Oh, thank God.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? It’s my house! What the hell are you doing breaking into my house? It’s damn near midnight!”

It was after midnight, but she wasn’t about to correct him. “I came to look after Sage. Scott’s out of town and asked me to look in on her.” Riley tried to relax her stance. Her hands were still against the wall and his gun was still pressed against her. His warm palm still cradled her breast. “Can you put the gun away, please?”

The metal was removed. He placed the gun next to where she’d set his house key. “No way did Scott mean for you to come here so late at night. What the hell, Riley? Were you looking to snoop around my place?”

She swallowed. He was pissed. And rightly so. She’d probably scared him half to death, but he’d done the same to her. “I was coming home from a date and thought I’d stop by to check on her.”

“She’s a cat. She’d be fine until morning.”

“Right.” Of course she would be. Riley failed to mention her own need for company, for someone to talk to. No way would she admit to Heath that she was lonely. “You aren’t supposed to be back yet.”

“I came home a day early. I was in bed when I heard the front door open. What was Scott thinking by sending you?”

“Sorry. I’ll go.” Riley tried not to let her hurt show. She could cry when she got home. It wasn’t like she had much else to do. Then a thought occurred to her. Was he alone in bed, or did he have some random girl here? He always seemed to have a different date each time she saw him. “I’ll let you get back to whoever you left in bed.” She couldn’t keep the venom from her tone.

“I was alone in bed.” His hand tightened on her boob. “Naked, alone, and enjoying a nice little dream, until I was woken up by someone sneaking into my house.”

Naked? Wait. “I wasn’t sneaking!” she protested.

He rested his other palm on the wall, next to hers. His chest pressed against her back. In her ear he whispered, “What would you call it, then?”

She didn’t know if they’d ever stood this close before. She gulped. “Your hand is on me.” She wanted to smack herself in the head. Way to play it cool.

“You want me to move it?” He almost sounded excited, turned-on. It gave her hope. Hope she knew better than to have.

She closed her eyes. She could smell his aftershave.

Should she make him remove his hand? Yes.

Did she want him to remove it? No.

 

 

Short Story Collection by April Zyon #RomanceBooks #Paranormal #shortstories @aprilzyon

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3 Books 1 Low Price!

Now available from April Zyon!

Title: Short Story Collection

#MF #Contemporary #Paranormal #Romance

Includes the following Short Romance stories!

Alaska’s Snowy Mate
Is it Alaska’s Snowy fate to find Drake and fall in love, only to die in the process?

Lost Faith
She was just a job. He was just a tool. Feelings were not supposed to play a part in any of it.

Redemption: Freely Given
Can a demon and a human find their happily ever after? Or will Arkady’s service to Hell ruin it all?

Grab it Here!

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EXCERPT (PG)

Redemption: Freely Given

Her shift had only just begun at the Shaved Pussy and already her feet hurt, so did her ass. She was only a waitress there, but the men seemed to think that because she worked at a strip club, they could smack her ass and pinch it as much as they wanted. The bouncers always appeared to look the other way as well, fuckers. As long as the talent wasn’t being harassed, the men didn’t really give two figs, as long as she wasn’t hurt badly enough to cause her to have to leave her shift. That was all that was important to them, and she knew it. She was barely a commodity to them because she didn’t dance to earn money for the bar.

Another hand landed on her ass while she tried to sidestep a drunk that was sitting there and continuously attempting to get her to give him just twenty minutes in the VIP room. She had to snort at that. If the man could only muster twenty minutes, there was no way in hell she was going to break her own personal rule and go anywhere with him. She didn’t sleep with clients, she didn’t sleep with co-workers, and she didn’t do anything that could possibly cause her to get pregnant. She had enough of a fucked-up life and refused to add to it. Plus, she also refused to hurt a child born to her, and with how she lived, it would be harmful.

No, she was a waitress, and that was it, period. She spent her nights waiting tables here, her mornings at the diner that was halfway between the Shaved Pussy and her little hole in the wall apartment. She hoped and prayed that one day she would be able to do more than that but, in the meantime, she was not going to make the same mistakes her mother made. She refused to do anything that would cause her any more issues in her life, let alone add a complete innocent to it.

Taking a deep breath, Brynn plastered the smile on her face and dropped off more drinks before moving back to the bar so that she could put in drink orders for another table. While she was waiting for those, she looked over the crowd and took in where everyone was. Brynn was moving her head to the sound of the music, she loved the song playing, so of course, she was going to give a little move to it. She might not have a radio, but she heard lots of music through the walls of her apartment and here at the Shaved Pussy, as well.

She narrowed her gaze on one of the heavy-handed men and wasn’t surprised when he reached out and grabbed the dancer, tugging her ankle to pull her to her ass on the dance floor and toward him. Well, sucked to be him because she was one of the talent and no one let those ladies be man-handled like that!

She snickered when she saw the large bulks of the bouncers melt from the shadows and quickly take him in hand and hustled him out of the club. Well, crap, that meant that she lost a table when his friends followed him out. She sighed and waved to the bartender. “Jack, hey, cancel that last order please?”

“No can do, Brynn. Already made.” He replied with a cocky smirk on his face that said he enjoyed making her pay for the drinks. “That means you get to pay, sugar. I suggest you take a drink and let yourself go a little. You know, they do let us drink on the job.”

“Yeah but I have to make it to the diner, and they don’t like drinking,” Brynn replied and pulled the fifty bucks out of her tips, which left her with thirty dollars in tips for the night. Great. So that meant she would need to go to the food pantry again. She had to make sure that her rent was paid, so groceries were off the table for her this week.

She tossed the money his way and then turned so that she could check on her other tables, in hopes that she would be able to pump some more money out of the few tables she had left.

About the Author

April Zyon is an author of erotic and paranormal romance. The hotter the sizzle, the better. Lover of Alpha heroes, bad boys, and the women they love. Insta-love believer, and true romantic at heart. April has written over 100 books in a variety of genres. Paranormal, Contemporary, Sci-fi, Ménage; and they all feature sexy heroines and the hot heroes that love them!!

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Pinterest * Amazon * Goodreads

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Ashes by Ashlynn Monroe #NewRelease #MCromance #bikerbooks #actionadventure @ashlynn_monroe @changelingpress

Ashes (Blood Moon MC 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Ashes: I’ve spent my whole life fighting. Fighting with teachers, fighting with foster parents, fighting with my demons, but my hardest fight was for my life. Someone shot me to protect my sister’s abusive ex. When I get out of this hospital bed, I’m going to find them.

Vivian: Nursing has been my life for so long that I’d forgotten I had a heart. He’s my patient. I shouldn’t be attracted to him, but this bad boy has such a damaged soul how can I not want to heal him?

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Ashlynn Monroe

Ashes

I stood in the courthouse parking lot, opening my left saddlebag.

“Hey! Ashes.”

My head jerked up and my vision hazed red. Will stood there with an expression that screamed he thought he was hot shit. My gun was in the saddlebag. Temptation begged me to shoot him, but with all the cameras watching, taking revenge here would be idiotic. “Fuck you.” I turned away from him, unable to stomach another moment of his face.

A loud pop reverberated. Sound echoed off the old stone buildings. I stumbled. My legs went numb. I dropped to my knees. Breathed out. Putting my hand against my abdomen. I pulled back and saw blood. Pain. My vision blurred. Blood. So. Much. Blood.

“What the fuck?” I looked up. Will was running. He’d never have had the guts. I glanced around, my thoughts turning hazy. I didn’t see a shooter.

Scathes. Family always came first. They knew this was my sister. They might be low, but no biker would do this when family was involved. I coughed. Blood splattered against the white skull painted on the tank of my bike. Blurred. Focused. Blurred. I tried to push myself up but couldn’t. The urge to clean up my girl was strong, but I didn’t have the strength. I held my injury, and when I glanced down the red seeped between my fingers. It was bad. “Shit.”

Shivering, I tried to look around for my attacker, but the only thing I saw were a few suits running in my direction. The last thing I wanted to see as I died was lawyers. My eyelids were heavy… so heavy…

* * *

Vivian

“Vivian.”

I glanced up, stretching my aching lower back the same time. This had been a busy ER rotation due to the recent measles outbreak. I normally worked in the ICU, but with the need for all hands, I was helping in emergency.

“Incoming.”

I watched the paramedics rush through the ambulance bay with the patient. He was under a thermal blanket, indicating the man was suffering from shock. They had him on oxygen. He didn’t look good.

“Viv, GSW, trauma room one,” Erica, one of the ER nurses, directed.
As one of the most experienced ER nurses on staff I wasn’t surprised she immediately directed me to assist. Hows and whys of injuries didn’t matter. Hero or criminal, this guy would get the same treatment.

In the trauma room, the EMTs were transferring him from the gurney to the bed. “Gunshot wound to the lower right quadrant. There’s no exit wound.” This guy was lucky — Dr. Blair was amazing.

I took my place on the right and took a blood sample. We needed to type him, fast. I glanced up to see the respiratory therapist remove the non-rebreather and intubate.

Dr. Blair stood at the foot of the bed, monitoring the situation while his resident took a spot on the left, ready to stop the bleeding with hemostatic gauze.

“Vitals?” asked Dr. Blair.

“Tachycardic, 170 beats a minute. O2 at 94% with oxygen. Temp 95. Blood pressure is 80/45 with a map of 50,” reported the EMT. “The abdomen is distended. Blood pooled around the wound. His color was ashen and distal pulses were weak. We gave him saline without any change in blood pressure. Victim was in and out of consciousness on the way here. He was lethargic upon arrival to the scene, but unconscious the last ten minutes while en route.”

“Exploratory laparotomy might be needed to stabilize him,” said the youthful Doctor Hanover, the resident Dr. Blair was precepting.

“Agreed. Let’s get our patient into surgery.”

I wasn’t getting a coffee break today. Dr. Blair glanced at me, and I nodded. I’d assisted him often and we enjoyed intense professional mutual respect. This patient was in as good hands as any, and in his condition, he’d need all the skill of our combined knowledge. Dr. Hanover looked over at me. The worry in his expression made my throat constrict. Losing a patient never got any easier.

 

More from Ashlynn at Changeling Press …

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.

Website/Blog: http://ashlynnmonroe.com/  

 

 

 

In-Between by Lynn Burke #MMF #menage #RomanceBooks #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke

In Between Now Available

Genre: MMF Erotic Romance

Release Date: June 17, 2019

 

BLURB

After his stepfather nearly ruins both his family name and business, Damien Fiorenza becomes suspicious of everyone—except for his long-time partner, Ethan Lord. He doesn’t trust people in authority, much less the woman who weasels her way into his walled-up heart, alongside his lover of fifteen years.

Ethan dislikes his empathic abilities, especially since they allow him to feel his mother’s indifference toward him, her only son. Damien, however, has always made Ethan feel needed, appreciated, and protected—but he can’t voice what Ethan is desperate to hear. Falling for their new secretary is unexpected, but she encourages and supports him in ways Damien won’t.

Shaylia Bright’s father chose his secret family over her and her mother. Ever since, she’s striven to be the best she can be, unable to stomach being second best. Although an office romance is taboo, she can’t deny the passionate chemistry among the three of them and finds herself drawn to both her bosses.

A dark and deep secret from the past forces Damien to raise his defenses. Haunting revelations tear everyone apart, dooming Shaylia to second best and Ethan to an incomplete life. Wrought with insecurity and stubbornness, can they find the courage to accept parts of their painful past in order to forge a path together, toward a happily ever after?

 

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45679702-in-between

 

PURCHASE LINKS

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2WYZXtW
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2F3nkbI
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2F3UyHD
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2WEuHRC
B&N: http://bit.ly/2F3nHTE
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2WymUoe
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2ZfCeDh

 

In Between Teaser 1

 

EXCERPT

I stared up at Ethan as he asked me if I was okay, and knowing I stood on the brink of a cliff, the bottom far from sight, I hesitated before nodding.

His hold on my waist tightened as he squeezed, his smile flooding my heart. He glanced over my head—at Damien behind me—and I wondered at the silent communication between them.

Ethan returned his focus to me, to my mouth and released one hand on my hip to slide up to cradle the back of my head as Damien’s hand settled where his had vacated. “Can I kiss you?”

Damien’s touch singed through my capris, and I swallowed a rush of saliva as my heart pounded in my ears. “Yes.”

I wondered at my need to hurry, to rise to my tiptoes to close the distance between us, but couldn’t help myself. I’d missed him, his touch more than I’d thought. The softness, the gentle caress of his lips lightened my head and nearly caved my chest in with the depletion of anxiety.

Zero doubt I belonged to Ethan raged through my body, heightening my already racing pulse. I grabbed hold of his head and sank into him as he slid his tongue into my mouth, weakening my knees.

The brush of Damien against my back raced fire over my skin, pebbling every inch, exposed and beneath clothing. A shift of my hips pressed my ass against his thighs, and he groaned as his hard length rubbed against my lower back.

Forget fire—lava rushed through my veins, and I shuddered, pulling away from Ethan’s mouth, gasping for breath. “I-I’ve never done this before,” I somehow managed to say before trembling took over my body.

“We’ll take things slow,” Ethan whispered, brushing my hair back from my face.

If that’s what you want,” Damien added, the heat of his breath lifting the hairs on my nape.

I bit back a moan as he sandwiched me fully between the two men, tempting all thought to flutter from my mind. My head tipped back onto Damien’s shoulder as I fought to slow my pulse, to catch my breath. He leaned in and kissed Ethan right beside my face.

Kissed Ethan … inches from my face.

Both groaned, and my core liquefied as I stared at their hungry mouths, tongues, and teeth, appearing in flashes as they devoured one another, grinding against me as though I was a conduit between their bodies.

All strength left me, and I sagged between their hardness, my pussy pulsing, thighs squeezing to ease the ache in my clit. I bit my lip at Ethan’s moan, his surrender to Damien’s hold on his hair and control of the kiss.

I’d said I hadn’t come to their condo for sex, but hell if I could think of anything else at that moment.

© Lynn Burke 2018

AUTHOR BIO

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.


AUTHOR LINKS

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lynn-Burke/e/B00TGC9SJW

 

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Going Back by Treva Harte #GayRomance #LGBT #secondchances #NewRelease @changelingpress

Going Back (Price of Fame 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Gene Price, former teenage star, has been living the simple life. He’s cut himself off from anyone who knows about him and his former bad reputation. Out of the blue he begins to get death threats. He doesn’t want any part of his past nowadays, but the only one he trusts to find out what’s going on and protect him is Leo, his former bodyguard — the one he’d slept with before he fired him.

Will Leo be wiling to protect Gene? And could he ever be interested in the changed man Gene’s become?

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Treva Harte

“Been a long time, Leo.” The extra decade looked good on him. He had more muscle — more presence. He wore his suit easily, not like the nervous minder Lane had hired back in the day. There was just enough gray at the temples to make him look distinguished. He’d grown up looking fine.

I found myself rubbing the surgery scar underneath my hair. I thought I’d broken myself of that nervous habit. But I didn’t like the way he was assessing me. Yeah, we both knew the extra decade hadn’t done as much for me. I sure as hell wasn’t the pretty boy people had gone insane for when I was in my teens and early twenties. I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t impressed. It was no more than I expected, and better than the outright disappointment I sometimes got. But it stung a little.

“A long time? Yes.” His voice was deeper now, but he’d talked a little more back then. Smiled a little more.

He wanted to be here even less than I’d wanted to ask for him. My stomach clenched again. What else could I expect? I couldn’t think of anything I’d done then to make him want to see me now. It was too bad that I’d liked him back when I didn’t like anyone much. Since I remembered the way I worked during my glory days, it meant I’d been more of a dick to him than I normally was. And I was a pretty big dick to people.

“I probably should apologize for that long ago time.” My memory was a little spotty, but I remembered a few incidents with him hustling me out of trouble while I did my best to stay back in it. And of course the reason he’d quit.

He looked at me steadily and didn’t say anything.

So I kept talking. “I’m still kind of an asshole, but I like to think my time away from all the glitter has improved my behavior some. People don’t get nearly as pissed off at me now.”

“Death threats usually mean someone is pissed off,” he pointed out.

I took a deep breath. “Well. I suppose there’s that. I was hoping you would tell me not to worry so much about it.”

“Afraid that’s not in my best interest. You hired me and hauled me out here on the tail end of a blizzard because you’ve been worried, and now I’m being paid to worry about it. But whatever. I don’t care about how you feel about these notes as long as you realize I’m in charge of keeping you safe. I’ll do whatever seems necessary.”

“You aren’t much in favor of the customer is always right, are you?” I tried to smile. It wasn’t his words so much as his attitude that stung. I probably had picked the wrong guy for this job.

Strange how disappointing that thought was.

“May I see the originals?” He held out his hand as if I carried the notes next to my heart or something.

I stood up and fumbled in my desk drawer. I didn’t usually use my desk drawers for anything but dumping unwanted mail. I suppose these qualified.

Leo put on reading glasses and set his mouth in an even straighter, grimmer line if that was possible. He read the two of them three times before he looked up.

“They don’t mention why you deserve to die,” he said. “As you say, you’ve been out of the public eye for a decade at least. What have you stirred up recently?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. Seriously. I keep pretty much to routine here. Pay my bills, say hello as needed to the neighbors, feed the dog.”

Leo glanced over at Ozzy, who half-opened his eyes and thumped his tail agreeably. Everyone was Ozzy’s friend. It could be annoying.

“Anything at all?”

I frowned. “I have something in mind, but I haven’t done it yet.”

Leo didn’t say anything. He was good at that.

“Really, the only thing I’ve done recently is start to think about investing in some property near here. There’s talk about rebuilding the only hotel and restaurant within thirty miles. It went out of business a few years ago when the owners retired and sold to some New Yorker who promptly went bankrupt in the middle of trying to make the place look like New York. It could bring in some jobs and money, but I wouldn’t want it done stupidly with some new development company that goes bust. I only got as far as asking Lane to look into pulling out some principal from my savings if I thought it might pan out. But people around here want the hotel back. No one local would be threatening me. Actually, if they did, they’d probably just come after me with a shotgun. There’s plenty of those around here.”

“Nothing else?”

“Jesus. I live by myself and I keep things quiet. Haven’t done television or a movie in years, and paparazzi aren’t likely to track me out here to watch me buy my groceries or split firewood.” My head was starting to hurt. I took a deep breath. “I’m pretty inoffensive nowadays.”

The old landline phone with the loud ring made me jump. I didn’t get a lot of calls.

“Hello?” I relaxed. My most constant caller was Lane and even she kept it to once or twice a month usually. This must be one of those calls.

Yeah, it was her.

“You’re about to have a visitor.” She sounded a little tense.

“Leo is already here. No problem.” Or not much of one. I was already a little twitchy from his presence, but I’d get over it once I got used to someone around.

“I’m glad, but I don’t mean a bodyguard. I suppose I don’t mean a visitor, either.” Lane stopped.

“That clears that up.”

“Don’t take up being a smart-ass again. You don’t have time for it.”

“All right, all right. What the hell is going on?”

“You’re about to have family call on you.”

“What the hell?” I hadn’t spoken to my parents since I turned eighteen and took control of my own money — and sued the hell out of them for taking mine before that. “Head them off!”

“Can’t. Social workers are on your trail.” That’s when I heard the note of real concern. I was in trouble?

“What? I’m way too old for a child care agency and not old enough for senior services.” A little too late, I realized I should have asked Leo to step out of the room.

“Congrats, Gene. It’s a boy.”

 

Get more from Treva at Changeling Press…

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

 

 

Fire’s Heat by Kate Steele #boxset #contemporary #cowboyromance #RomanceBooks @changelingpress

Fire's Heat (Duet)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

Who knew love could be so dangerous?

A Sure-Fire Cure: Betrayed by a former lover, veterinarian Dean Conlon knows how dangerous love can be. But his attraction to the handsome horse breeder, Scott Whittaker, is immediate and undeniable.

While Dean struggles against his own fears, Scott wages a tempting campaign of seduction. But someone else is in love with Dean and they’ll do whatever it takes, including murder, to claim Dean for their own.

New Year’s Fire: Unless Dean finds a way to mend the breach between his lover and himself, the start of their New Year is going to be anything but happy. Dean hopes to stir the banked embers of their passion and set this New Year’s Eve on fire.

 

Get it now at Changeling Press or Pre-Order for June 7th at Retailers

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Get the Paperback!

 

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kate Steele
Excerpt from A Sure-Fire Cure

Dean woke to a thumping reverberation in his head. Groggily he sat up. A split second of confusion gave way to understanding when he realized he was hearing pounding at the front door instead of suffering some strange, mutant headache. Grabbing his jeans from the chair near the bed where he’d dropped them earlier, he pulled them on, not bothering with briefs. He buttoned a few of the lower buttons while stumbling to the entrance in the dark.

Switching on the living room lights, he unlocked and opened the door to find a tall, broad-shouldered man waiting. Piercing blue eyes captured his from a ruggedly handsome and tanned face that was framed by thick, wavy and swept back sun-bleached hair.

“Doctor Conlon?” The stranger’s voice was firm, deep and demanding.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got a mare that needs attention. She’s about to drop her first foal, but she’s having trouble.”

“Why didn’t you just call?”

Dean was pinned by that brilliant blue-eyed gaze. “I wasn’t taking the chance that you might put me off. This mare’s valuable, Doc. I don’t want to lose her or the foal.”

“I never ignore calls for help,” Dean answered pointedly. “Let me get the rest of my clothes.” He strode back to the bedroom, quickly finished dressing, then returned to the living room to snatch his car keys out of the ashtray resting on a small side table.

“You won’t need those, I’ll drive.”

Dean glared at the man. “You’ll have to bring me home.”

“Not a problem.”

He saw the determination that sparkled in the man’s eyes and nodded. Wordlessly, he grabbed his medical bag and the pair of boots waiting near it. “Let’s go.”

Following the man out, he secured his door and pocketed his keys. In front of the house stood a fairly new truck, dark and shiny in the glare of the outside light. Dean walked around to the passenger side, climbed in and buckled his seat belt after settling his boots and bag on the floor. He leaned back, closing his eyes. His driver, already in place, started the truck and took off.

Dean took a deep breath, willing his nerves and stomach to calm down. It was disconcerting even under the best of circumstances to be pulled unceremoniously from a sound sleep; his head spun with the tiniest bit of disorientation that always seemed to cling for a few minutes whenever he was abruptly awakened. His body needed time to adjust.

Opening his eyes, his gaze was pulled to the motion of the driver’s hands on the steering wheel. In the glow of the dash lights, Dean watched every move. The hands were large and sinewy, the fingers long, broad and tapered; they looked strong and capable. Dean had a fleeting flash of his dream and felt his belly tighten while a tingle threaded its way down the length of his cock. For one unguarded, sleep-befuddled moment he wondered what it would be like to have those hands gliding over his skin.

He came to with a snap and took himself firmly to task. Dean suddenly realized that he had no idea in whose company he was, or where they were going. Clearing his throat, he managed to rasp out his question. “By the way, who are you?”

“Scott Whittaker. I live about five miles from here, on Westover Road. Don’t know if you’ve been by the place, but I’ve got a few acres and some horses.”

Dean stared. A few acres and some horses? The Whittaker place was large, to say the least. He had no idea exactly how big the spread was, but it was more than just a few acres. The property had rolling hills and flat pasture, all neatly fenced and well groomed. The Whittaker appaloosas were some of the most well known and sought after of the breed, both in the U. S. and abroad. When Dean had bought his veterinary practice from old Dr. Dennison a few months ago, he had read the files left behind, including the Whittaker’s. He had wondered if he’d hear from them, or if they’d take their business elsewhere.

“I’ve been by your place, Mr. Whittaker. You’ve got some beautiful acreage, and from what I’ve seen, some fine-looking horses.”

“Call me Scott.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Scott. You can call me Dean or Doc, I’ll answer to either one.”

“Glad to meet you, too, Dean. Sorry I had to drag you out of bed.”

The rich, low rumble of Scott’s voice traveled over Dean’s nerve endings and made his stomach do another twist. He took a deep, calming breath, only to find it flavored by a subtle scent that intrigued and tickled his nostrils. It was a full-bodied aroma that wove its way into Dean’s nostrils, wafting in to tickle his palate. It smelled faintly of horse, but mostly of man. There was warmth to it and a teasing, almost spicy musk that caused his groin to tighten yet again.

“Not a problem.”

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kate’s love of books started from the moment she read those fateful words: run, Spot, run! It took her awhile to discover that she didn’t have to just read and imagine, but that she could also write stories and so here she is writing romance and loving it. Like chocolate – her ultimate favorite food, with pizza running a close second – writing became addictive. Whether it’s paranormal, contemporary or science fiction about werewolves, otherworldly creatures or the average Joe, she can’t get enough.

As for the everyday details, Kate lives in a turn of the century house located in the midst of Indiana farm country, and is kept company by family, along with demanding dogs, contrary cats and a pair of occasionally sweet, and definitely noisy, lovebirds. When not writing, she reads, is an enthusiastic grower of iris, and a fanatic fan of Japanese manga and anime.

More from Kate at Changeling Press…

Website: http://www.katesteele.com

 

 

 

Beautiful Disasters by Willa Okati #boxset #GayRomance #secondedition @changelingpress @willa_okati

Beautiful Disasters

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Two wrongs don’t usually make a right. But sometimes — if you’re lucky — against all odds, they do.

A Beautiful Disaster: After being betrayed and abused by an ex-lover, Sean has learned not to give his heart away. But he can’t help wishing he could trust gentle-hearted tattoo artist Riordan…

Enough To Let You Go: Paul loves his simple country life. Problem is he’s in love with Max, who’s got his nose pointed toward London. Paul loves Max enough to let Max go… Now they’ll have to love each other enough to find their way back.

Make a Right: Tuck would take care of the world if the world would let him. Even on the edge of a breakup with Cade he can’t give up hope for their future. Cade knows their one chance at a reconciliation is giving up his secrets, but can he find the courage to take the risk?

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Willa Okati
Excerpt from A Beautiful Disaster

The crowds didn’t part easily for Riordan. He’d been gone for far too long from a place he used to know well, and some wanted to talk, some wanted to stare, and some whispered behind their hands or in one another’s ears as he passed them by. Riordan let it all slide off his back. Either they knew and they were cool, or they didn’t and they would or wouldn’t be. As long as he didn’t lose track of the man in black, it worked for him.

“Rio.” Mare leaned over the bar for a kiss on the cheek. He knew better than to try anything like tousling her hair, or he’d draw back a bloody stump. “Everything good?”

Riordan was close enough to the slight dark man to get a sense of his aura and to see him sneaking — in the mirror when he thought Riordan wasn’t looking — glimpses and glances here and there, like an edgy cat creeping close to the demarcation of shadow between his hiding place and the rest of the world. One wrong word, and he’d bolt for sure.

Mare showed Riordan her wrist. “What do you think?” She’d had a watch tattooed on, the long and short hands set to five minutes past last call. “Yeah, it’s as subtle as a brick to the face. Whatever. Got it done when I was in Miami. What do you think? Decent work?”

He took Mare’s hand and turned it to and fro. “More than.” Her artist had used light and shadow to give the watch an almost three-dimensional look, and when she turned her wrist, it cast the illusion of moving time. “Give me the artist’s name later, would you?”

The man in black hunched his shoulders tighter, almost at his ears now. Riordan nodded once at the guy and raised an eyebrow at Mare. She met and matched him and held up both hands, palms out. “You want your usual?”

“Thanks.” Riordan could sense the tension gathering. Never mind a wrong word. If he didn’t take care, this one might break and run, hurrying out and away, and Riordan couldn’t let that happen again.

Riordan tapped his glass against the dark man’s. The dark man flinched, an exaggerated startle response. The corners of Riordan’s mouth crimped in an empathetic frown. Whoever this was, he didn’t need scars to tell his story. Life hadn’t treated him well, and this one needed handling with care.

That was the interesting part. People who came to the Blind Tiger knew what they wanted. Riordan didn’t think this man did.

Riordan had the man’s attention, though. That was something at least. He liked having that intense blue focus fixed on him, shining through the sweep of black hair. “I’m Riordan,” he said, leaving his glass kissing rims with its mate. “I’d ask if we’ve met before, but I already know the answer.” He held out his hand and waited to see if the man would take it, and if he’d hear the stranger’s name.

The dark man’s hand was dry and rough with scar tissue. “Sean,” he said, barely moving his lips. Still, it was a start, and Riordan had done more with less. “I’m Sean.”

* * *

Riordan. The name fit him. Different. Not outlandish. He wasn’t wearing his scrubs tonight, but a casual shirt and soft-washed jeans instead. His hand was long and firm. A few calluses. Only a few. Strong fingers. They were so gentle on his that Sean clenched his tighter, wanting to slap the blond.

Sean took his hand back and wrapped it around his almost untouched beer. The bitterly yeasty smell made him want to sneeze, but instead he closed his eyes and drank. The hops and barley were too strong for him by far, thick and sticky on his tongue.

He could feel Riordan watching.

He looks at me as if he likes what he sees. That’s not — I don’t — Sean drank again and wiped his mouth with his fingertips. “You don’t look like a nurse when you’re out of uniform.”

Riordan let out a small, surprised laugh.

Sean tensed. “What’s so funny?”

“I didn’t expect a baritone.”

Sean touched his throat. “Oh.” He’d forgotten. No one commented on his voice. “I can’t sing.”

“Neither can I.” Riordan eased onto the empty bar stool beside him. “I am a nurse, actually. A good one.”

“With those tattoos?” Sean drank. He flexed his empty hand. “I’ve seen enough hospital staff to — I’ve met a lot of nurses. They weren’t tattooed.”

“Maybe not where you could see the ink. I’ve met plenty of nurses with body art, and I am a nurse. I work every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and weekends if they need me. Other times too.” He shifted to show Sean a pager clipped to his belt. “See?” He had a lean waist and strong thighs. He moved with a sort of confidence, as if certain his body wouldn’t ever betray him. He probably hadn’t known a sick day in his life. “I have two jobs. One as a nurse and one as an artist. They go together better than you’d think.”

The itch between his shoulder blades would drive Sean mad. A drop of sweat rolled from below his nape to the small of his waist and down. He’d almost finished his glass. When had that happened?

“Hey.” Riordan’s hand settled on his. “Are you all right?”

Sean’s hand spasmed and flexed.

Riordan didn’t let go. He left his hand right where it was. Testing.

He wants me.

Sean’s ears rang in the echo of the thought. Him. He wants me.

“Sean.” He was about to let go. He was warm, so warm, so close. The bar stools weren’t spaced far apart. The lines of his arm, his torso, his thigh, all were inches from aligning with Sean’s.

He touched Sean’s back. Lightly. Over the deepest of the scars from Leo’s belt. Leo loved using the belt because he’d known Sean would cover himself from head to toe, and the marks wouldn’t show.

Can’t let him see. If he sees, he’ll know, and if he knows, he’ll —

“Okay.” Riordan held his hands up, palms out. No threat there. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I forget some people don’t like being touched.”

Don’t like being — Sean choked off a bark of laughter and swallowed the rest of his beer. The dregs went down almost too thick to swallow. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure about that?” Riordan laid his hand on the bar, palm up, forming a cup. His nails were cut close and kept trimmed neatly. His hair curled at the ends where it brushed the tops of his shoulders. If he didn’t have a dusting of dark blond stubble, Sean could have described him as pretty too.

Or not. Pretty wasn’t a strong enough word. Riordan was beautiful up close, not just at a distance. His eyes were variegated hazel, mostly green until seen from inches away, and then they had starbursts of amber and brown surrounding the dilating pupils. His lips were just lips, not too firm or too full or too thin, but the marks at their sides showed he smiled more often than he didn’t. He couldn’t be older than Sean but had crow’s-feet starting at the corners of those eyes.

Sean couldn’t form words, but he made himself nod.

“Then what should I do?” Riordan asked after three beats, or more, of silence. He spoke carefully. Too much so. Treating Sean as if he were made of spun glass and he’d shatter if he were hit —

Sean’s grip tightened on his empty glass.

“Don’t be gentle,” he said. He sounded to himself as if he’d already cracked. Sharp edges and twisting points. “I know what I came here for. I know what you came here for. You can have it. Me. If you’re not gentle. If you are, I’ll walk away, I swear to God.”

He turned his head and tipped it back to drain the shot glass. His heart pounded in his ears. Why? He didn’t know why. Only that if Riordan was kind, kinder than this, Sean really would lose it and he’d never be able to try again, and —

Riordan watched him. He was one of those guys who took his time when Sean didn’t want time. At least he didn’t try to pet or pat him. He might pity Sean, but as long as he kept it on the inside that would be okay.

He swallowed his shot, motion fluid, and covered the top with a ten-dollar bill. “Okay,” he said. Sean couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Good. He didn’t want to. “Not here.” He slipped off the bar stool and didn’t offer Sean a hand down. Only waited for him to climb on his own. “I don’t live far. Will you come?”

 

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Also available in Paperback

 

 

More books from Willa Okati at Changeling Press…

 

Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, and a lifelong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

You can reach Willa at willaokati@gmail.com.

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