Along Came a Demon by Marteeka Karland #DarkDesire #NewRelease #SFR @changelingpress @marteekakarland

 

Along Came a Demon (Shadow Demons 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Sci-fi, Dark Desire,
Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance

 

A Shadow Demon, hell-bent on protecting his city…

Alexei Petrov has more money than he can ever spend in many lifetimes, but his life is more than glitz and glamour. Behind the scenes, Alex is part of an elite group working in the shadows, hunting down those who would prey on the most vulnerable in the city. Which is how he found the most desirable women he’s ever seen.

A young mother in fear for the life of her child…

Merrily fled with her daughter with death on her heels. She has no idea what her father has done, but he’s managed to throw her and little Bellarose into the middle of a war. Scared, hunted, Merrily gets caught in the crossfire of what looks like a gang war, but it’s something far more sinister. A desperate flight lands her in the arms of Alexie Petrov. Literally. And the man is everything she knows she can never have but wants with every fiber of her being.

Nowhere to hide…

Even tucked safely away in the home of the richest, most powerful man in the city of Rockwell, Merrily’s past finally catches up with her. Bellarose’s father has come calling, and hell is hot on his heels. Fleeing seems like her only option, but Alex is just as dangerous as anything headed her way. And far too seductive and possessive for her peace of mind. Though she knows he will only break her heart, Merrily can’t resist the lust that burns between them and soon finds herself more than infatuated with the man. Needing to prove her worth, Merrily knows she’s up for the challenge. Welcomes it. But just who are the demons in the night? And why does she welcome this one’s embrace?

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His Private Dancer (The Jordan Brothers) by Megan Slayer #BDSM #DarkDesire #RomanceBooks #eroticbooks @changelingpress @MeganSlayer

His Private Dancer (The Jordan Brothers 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, 2nd Chance Romance, Dark Desires

 

I want what I want, no question — even her.

Dashiell “Dash” Jordan runs the city of Shaker with an iron fist. Whatever he wants, he gets — except the woman he craves, who hasn’t been available. He’s waited long enough, and nothing will stop him, not even her bastard ex-husband or her con artist father. But once Dash sets his sights on her, will she allow herself to be owned, or will she walk away a second time?

Christy Lane never loved anyone the way she did Dash. She knew the danger of being with him, but she didn’t care. Then Dash left her. She tried to put her life back together, but that life included marriage to a perpetual cheater, being thrown out of her father’s church, and working in the only job she can get — stripping. Then Dash reappears. The memories of their life together rush back — the scenes, the passion and craving. She doesn’t want to be a plaything, but he’s offering her the world. Will she allow him to own her or end their second chance before she’s hurt again?

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

“Did you see this?” Tate Moore strolled into the office. “Dash?” He threw the newspaper on Dash’s desk. “I have found you a wife.”

Dashiell Jordan moved his tablet out of the way and accepted the newspaper. He needed a lot of things in his life, but not a wife — at least not a random woman to be his wife. He wanted his high-school sweetheart.

“Sir, you need to see her.” Tate pointed to one of the photos. “I bet she’d be a good wife.”

He turned the paper around and scanned the images. None of the women was his girl. He wasn’t even sure which one Tate meant and didn’t care. He knew where his woman was and when the time was right, he’d bring her home. “Why would you pick this one?” The woman was pretty enough, but not right. Her hair was too dark, her eyes were brown, and the smile didn’t match the one he remembered. Besides, she was way too young. “No, thanks.”

“Sir, you’re too picky.” Tate folded his arms. “I get it. You want the right woman, but you’re lonely and I’m tired of women who claim they’ve been with you… they come around and insist they’re your girlfriend. They think they should live here.”

“At the club?” Dash laughed. No one outside of his circle of close associates knew where he lived. He brought lovers to the hotel. Never to his home.

“Remember Sasha? She keeps stopping here. She thinks you’re together,” Tate said.

“I never slept with her.” He’d given the woman money and a place to stay because he’d felt sorry for her, but he hadn’t been attracted to Sasha.

“But she is telling everyone within earshot that she’s your girl. She says she’s a kept woman,” Tate said. “You have to set the record straight.”

“Jesus.” Being notorious meant he drew a certain type of people into his orbit, but this was too much. “Pay her tab, get her a ride, and make sure she gets home.” He couldn’t push too hard — not in this instance. Sasha struck him as the type to use the courts to get what she wanted — money. If he danced around her a little more, she might get the message. If not, he had other ways of getting rid of her.

“Is that it?”

He glared at Tate. “Yes.”

“Yes, sir.” Tate left the office.

God damn it. He hated how he’d been turned into a commodity. Sasha and the others didn’t love him. They loved the money and status he brought. They wanted the relative fame of being associated with him. They’d never be able to handle the danger or stress of his life. They’d want him to settle down and create a family. Not going to happen.

He sighed. The woman he wanted wasn’t far away, and once the paperwork went through, he’d have her in his arms. He longed to kiss her — not stolen kisses or hidden embraces. Not playing games in the dark or under the threat of being caught, but having her on his arm for a night out. Once he had her, he’d never let Christy go. He’d found her, but refused to demand her to become his woman.

His phone rang, jolting him from his thoughts. He read the identification screen. Clint, his brother. He tapped the button to retrieve the call and set the phone to speaker.

“Yes?”

“I hear you’re looking at buying the building on the north side of the Copa Room,” Clint said. “The Sandborn building?”

“Yes, I want to expand.” He turned the paper over without really looking at it, then flattened the page. He noticed the photos of exotic dancers in an advertisement for one of the clubs. The girls weren’t his type of woman, but he appreciated beauty. Maybe this week she’d be one of the featured dancers.

“Well, they want two hundred thousand, but because it’s vacant, we can talk them down,” Clint said. “A hundred-fifty thousand is more reasonable.”

“Why, if you know what to do and can get the price down, aren’t you negotiating? Clint, I’m one of your only clients.” None of the dancers caught his fancy, but he kept looking. He’d found proof Christy was stripping in one of the clubs, but hadn’t come across her yet. “Well? You should be in the business with me. We should be a team.”

“Because I don’t want to live with the danger. I like being legitimate,” Clint said. “But I’m already negotiating. They’re coming down on the price, so stay tuned.”

“Danger isn’t the only thing I live with.” He doubted Clint got death threats or was shot at on a regular basis. He turned the page of the paper. A slew of ads for strip clubs decorated the space. He looked over the images of the dancers for the one he wanted. There she was, right where he’d expected her to be — Chastity Lane at the X-Caliber Club. Time to visit. “Do you know the X-Caliber Club?”

“Dash.” Clint groaned. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? And no, I don’t. I’ve never been to a strip club. Father made sure my handlers didn’t take me to one. Why?”

“I heard nothing past a hundred-fifty thousand. If you can get the deal going, do it,” Dash said. “I’ve gone to a couple clubs, but not the X-Caliber.” He remembered how his father sheltered Dash’s oldest brother. Their father wanted Clint to stay clean and be the face of the family. Good for public relations, but bad because the family had never left the nightclub business. Clint had a head for real estate, but not running the string of entertainment hotspots.

“Who is she?” Clint asked. “I know it’s a chick.”

“Would you believe me if I said I found Christy?”

 

The Darkest Joy by Dahlia Rose #DarkFantasy #DarkDesire #PNR #interraciallove @changelingpress

The Darkest Joy (Dark Love 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Dark Desire, Dark Fantasy, Interracial, Paranormal

 

For Bliss, Caim would tear hell apart. To bring Caim to the light,
Bliss would sacrifice everything.

 

For a crime committed in the halls of heaven, Caim fell from grace to become one of the fallen. His punishment is to serve in the pits of the underworld as collector of the devil’s debts.

A thousand years in the servitude of demons is more than Caim can bear. Now he has a chance to be free and to find peace. He has found what he seeks most in the eyes and arms of Bliss Tadeo, a phlebotomist in a small town called Merry, North Carolina. With her eyes and her heart she has soothed the beast within Caim and given him a chance for redemption — if they can survive his ultimate escape from hell…

Publisher’s Note: The Darkest Joy (Dark Love 1) is an edited version of a previously published work by the same name.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Dahlia Rose

So beautiful. He watched her smile as she strapped a piece of rubber around a patient’s bicep. The smile was brilliant, kindly and full of encouragement as she slipped a hollow needle into the vein. She murmured reassuring words to ease her patient’s fears. The lifeblood of the man began to fill the tube. Even from far away he could hear her every word. She talked about the weather, and asked about children, a conversation to take a person’s mind off what was happening and help them into a happy place. Finally she was done and then she flashed that glorious smile once more. Perfection.

No one could see him as he walked down the corridor behind her as he had done for weeks now. He watched her work and at night he sat outside her window and watched her sleep. Her beauty took his immortal breath away and the normalcy of her life gave him hope for himself. After thousands of years one mistake made him who he was now. Only redemption could free him from his immortal torment, his dungeon, his curse. He sat next to her, invisible, as she wrote up charts at her small desk, in her space, her sanctuary where she worked. He inhaled the scent of hair like it was a fine wine. The dark tresses smelled like honeysuckle and vanilla spice. He wanted to run his finger down the creamy chocolate shoulder that was exposed when she took off her lab coat. When she turned, her nose was just a breath away from his, yet she did not know it. Her breath caressed his lips. It had the scent of the strawberry soft chews she liked to snack on at her desk. He stared into eyes that were like liquid chocolate. Her lips were full and she wore gloss that had a slight color of gold. Pictures of family and friends were all around her, trinkets of her human life that she treasured. One picture she favored the most and she looked at it every day. She caressed the silver frame with the word grandmother in raised letters. He heard her speak of the woman frequently, saw them go out to lunch, and watched as she hugged her with affection and love. He longed for an emotional connection, a bond with another person that couldn’t be broken, he craved…

The call jarred him from his place next to her. It was like a sledgehammer to his head. He hated when this time came around, he hated being away from her. But if he did not go to his duties the repercussion would be great and by the time his punishment was over a hundred years would have passed and she would be long gone. A frown darkened his face as he moved away from her. He promised to return to no one but himself. The next time he would reveal himself to her slowly, letting her know the man before she knew the secret. Next time. Her name was Bliss. Bliss… Bliss… Bliss, he repeated the name over and over in his head. She would be his Bliss and his salvation.

He felt it in the fiber of his being. He closed his eyes and phased out of this world owned by humanity and into a world no one wanted to see. The walls of rock were dark with soot and the ground scorched the soles of shoes. As he walked, the heat caused the rubber to hiss as if you had dropped water into a hot frying pan. He hardened his heart to the screams of torment around him, the pleas for mercy or even a drink of water to quench eternal thirst. Had he shown any compassion the consequences would be dire for him and for the person whose plea he answered. No, it was better to pretend he did not see the bodies chained to the rock walls or hear the lashes from Qumuel’s whip against the flesh of his captives as he passed.

“What took you so long, Caim?” The snarl came from the demonic lips of Belial.

His face was almost flawless in its beauty but it belied the pure evil hiding underneath. There was no one more malevolent; more filled with hate and destruction than Belial. Caim had long stopped fearing him; he looked at him now with total disinterest.

He leaned his shoulder against the steaming rock wall; it burnt a hole through the fabric of his black shirt down to his skin. It burned his flesh but Caim did not even wince. Such was the life of a fallen angel in hell.

“So no answer?” Belial asked.

“Why should I give you excuses, Belial? You are not my master, you only dispense assignments. You are basically a secretary. And as soon as I was summoned I came.” Caim replied mildly. It gave him great pleasure to see the flaming anger turn red in the demon’s eyes.

“Your insolence will not be forgotten. One of these days my revenge will be swift.”

“Said the demon to the fallen angel who lives in hell with him.” Caim scoffed unconcerned. “Why was I summoned? Give me my assignment, secretary, and go back to making coffee.”

With a snarl reminiscent of a lion’s roar Belial was on his feet. His tail lashed the desk in front of him and spilt it in two. Black ooze flowed from the wood and talons sprouted from Belial’s hands. Gone was the perfect man. Now, the face of a demon was visible and pure in its hate.

Caim took battle stance. From his back, black wings ripped their way through the fabric of his shirt. In his hands appeared a black sword. If Belial wanted a fight he would give him one, feathers against scales.

More from Dahlia Rose at Changeling Press…

 

Demon’s Grotto by Kate Hill #PNR #DarkDesire #Vampires #Shifters @chagnelingpress @katehillromance

Demon’s Grotto, where monsters sate their lust. Will you spend the night?

 

Demon's Grotto (Demon's Grotto 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Dark Fantasy, Dark Desire, Shapeshifters,
Vampires, Werewolves

 

Ben wants Laura to reconsider staying overnight at Demon’s Grotto, and he has information about the club’s history that should convince her. He tells her three creepy love stories, hoping she will change her mind.

Rise of the Creature: When a mad doctor brings a dead man back to life, only his beautiful assistant can make that life worth living.

The Demon Within: A man on the run stops to rest at a rooming house, not knowing that it’s the hunting ground of a gorgeous succubus bent on devouring handsome guests.

Don’t Cry, Wolf: An ad for a maintenance man at a bed and breakfast is answered by a former soldier who’s harboring a hairy secret. The business’s lovely co-owner becomes involved with this sullen hunk who’s more than she imagined possible.

After hearing these stories of love and murder, will Laura decide to spend the night at Demon’s Grotto?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kate Hill

Despite the cold, misty night, Laura felt optimistic and excited, like she did whenever she was about to start a great story. Demon’s Grotto, the new club that had opened in a very old building, would be an amazing topic for an article. She’d already heard good things about the club. The name itself was an attention grabber, and the place seemed to deserve that dark, dangerous label.

She’d heard rumors that it was haunted. Staff and customers alike had seen, heard, and even felt a lot of strange things since the place opened. With her keen interest in the supernatural, Laura couldn’t wait to get to work. She didn’t think ghosts, demons, and werewolves were real, but she liked to fantasize and she also knew that many people liked to believe. In all her years of writing about paranormal creatures, she had never actually met one and doubted she ever would. Like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster, some things were meant only for entertainment. After all, you can’t find proof of something that doesn’t exist. Yet her job wasn’t to prove anything. She was just here to tell an enticing story.

Pausing outside the club, she gazed up at the old building that had once been a rich family’s mansion. The current owners had kept the old style, even through renovations. The ornate building was stained sable. The front door was black with red lettering that stated the club’s name and hours.

Laura was about to step inside when a man of average height wearing a wrinkled gray suit approached. He had thick black hair, a square jaw, and rich brown eyes that had an almost haunted expression.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re Laura, right?”

“Yeah. Do I know you?”

“You called the owner about coming here to write a story about the place.”

“Yes. Do you work here?”

“Sure. Yeah. When I heard you wanted to spend the night here to write your story, I knew I had to talk to you first.”

“Why? Do you mind if I take notes?”

“No. Go ahead.”

“What’s your name, by the way?”

“Ben.”

“And what do you do here, Ben?”

“I’m the maintenance guy.”

“Oh. So you must know all about the building.”

“More than I ever wanted to.”

“So why did you want to talk to me, Ben?”

“See that coffee shop across the street? Can we go there?”

“Why don’t we just go in the club?”

Ben’s dark eyes shifted toward the door. He shook his head. “No, Laura. I don’t feel like I can speak freely in there. If I’m going to tell you everything I know, it can’t be within those walls.” For the first time he truly nabbed her interest.

“Okay. Sure. We can go to the coffee shop,” she said, adjusting the strap of her laptop case more comfortably on her shoulder.

He headed to the coffee shop, and Laura followed. It had started raining harder, and when they stepped inside, they were both soaked. After ordering, they took their drinks to a table near the window.

From there, they had a clear view of Demon’s Grotto. A couple of people went in, and a few others came out. It seemed like a normal club. “That place has been bad news since the time it was built,” Ben said, breaking her thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“It was built in the early 1800s by the Damp family. Frederick Damp brought his wife and four kids over from England. Within two years of moving into the house, three kids and his wife died. One son, Raymond, survived. He married and had twin girls. When they were sixteen, one twin went crazy and killed the other. She was committed to an asylum and died there a couple of years later.”

Laura curled her lip. “That’s terrible.”

“It doesn’t get any better. Before they were killed in a carriage accident, Raymond and his wife had another child, a son, Martin. He married, but poisoned his wife, and then he drank the same poison himself. They had one child, Cyril, and this is where the story really gets strange.”

Laura chuckled. “Stranger than that?”

Ben didn’t return her smile, but stared at her with those dark, haunted eyes. “Much stranger than that.”

The Chosen by Shara Azod #DarkFantasy #PNR #eroticromance #DarkDesire @changelingpress @sharaazod ‏

Amidst a war as old as time, sometimes the battle lines
go awry, and the hunter becomes the hunted.

 

The Chosen (Box Set) (The Chosen 5)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Magic

Amidst a war as old as time, sometimes the battle lines go awry, and the hunter becomes the hunted.

This box set contains the previously published novellas:

Ukko’s Discovery: Amidst a war as old as time, two ancient warrior beings find a precious gift that should not exist. Who is this mysterious female with powers equal to his?

Tar’s Challenge: Tar wants Dahlia beyond reason, but she’s protected by a centuries old mage. He’s going to have to work to get what he wants.

Release of Bres: In the battle between good and evil sometimes the battle lines go awry. But then Bres runs into a power outlet of his very own — a female who appears out of the mist, whose very presence is enough to bring him to his knees.

Netjer’s Fall: Tired of living in his brother’s shadow, Netjer seeks the woman who can give him the power he needs. Little does he know he is not the hunter, but the hunted.

 

Get it at Changeling Press

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Shara Azod
Excerpt from Tar’s Challenge

Dahlia Garcia held her breath as she witnessed the arrival of the general and his entourage. For the millionth time she wracked her brain for any reason why he had requested for her to interview him. Not that this wasn’t the interview of a lifetime. Snagging an interview with the great General Peter Yarovit was less probable than snagging an exclusive with the president.

Up until now, the most powerful members of government she had ever interviewed were a couple of congressmen’s wives who were having some kind of asinine auction for charity. But he had called and specifically requested her. Her managing producer and mentor, Ken Wheaton, who was also the cable news network’s biggest star as well as the Washington bureau chief, had been told the general would not accept anyone else, and in fact, the whole interview was his idea. He had probably picked her because she was new and inexperienced. But no matter how much she had argued she wasn’t ready for such a heavyweight, nothing had swayed Ken.

“I believe in you, kid,” he had said dismissively. “That’s why I brought you on board. I have faith in you. Besides,” he added with a wicked twinkle in those sinfully sexy, blue-green eyes of his, “it’s an exclusive. He won’t be going to any other network, cable or otherwise. It’s his first interview since his wife died six months ago. Rumor has it there could be a major announcement.”

Damn, damn, double damn! Dahlia mentally cursed, covertly retreating to her office and locking the door. There was no way she could get out of it. Ken would kill her. Not to mention she owed her entire career to him. He’d plucked her out of the relative obscurity of the tiny Louisiana station she had landed at after college and whisked her here to New York with a prime time show. Sure, it was mostly fluff instead of hard news, but it was prime time, national exposure, and she was actually making money as opposed to treading water.

And now this. Dahlia sighed as she sank into the chair behind her desk. If she was lucky, she would be relegated to midday news with the other news bunnies. Maybe she could even make enough to keep the roomy Manhattan apartment Ken had helped her find. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Yeah, and maybe pigs could fly.

She stared blankly at the litany of questions she had studied over and over again for the last week. She had of course memorized every question right down to each individual punctuation mark, and then had gone over them with Ken in mock interviews. But Ken, while being devilishly handsome and a consummate flirt, could not compare to the imposing figure of General Yarovit.

As the youngest four-star general in American history, the general was a superstar. Before her untimely death, he had been married to Meredith Osborne Whatley, the only child of the senior senator from Virginia and the current Senate Majority Leader. It was even whispered that he was on the short list to be the next Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff now that the current one had announced he would be retiring within the year.

He was also the sexiest man Dahlia had ever laid eyes on. Although she had never been introduced, she’d had the opportunity to observe the general up close and personal at several parties in D.C. Ken had dragged her to. She knew he stood well over six feet, probably somewhere around six three or four. He had a lean, muscular physique — not too big, but just right — and jet black hair that looked as if it wanted to curl if it was just allowed to grow instead of being ruthlessly sheared into the standard military high and tight.

But what really made any woman within a hundred yards of the man a drooling fool was those eyes. Cool gray surrounded by unbelievably thick, long, black lashes a woman would kill for. She had stared for at least ten minutes before catching herself. Ken had offered to introduce her, but there was no way in hell she was going anywhere near that tall, imposing warrior-man. He was way out of her league, professionally and personally.

And yet, she felt an unaccountable connection to the enigmatic man she had never met. Just the thought of him had her insides melting, a pool of wet need puddling between her thighs. Dahlia sat morosely imagining all kinds of disasters that were about to befall her. Absently rubbing the birthmarks at the nape of her neck, she pressed her legs together, trying without success to think of anything but how gorgeous the general was. She had no business feeling this way about this man. A new widower, at that. How sad was it that just thinking about him made her skin itch to be touched? But that was something she could never allow, even if it were a possibility, which it wasn’t. Dahlia was not like other people. She could not bear the touch of anyone, especially men.

“At least I have some savings,” she muttered to herself. “I can always move back to Louisiana, get my old job back maybe…” Wishful thinking. Once she crashed and burned here because she was too tongue-tied, too strung out with a need she couldn’t explain, no one would touch her with a ten-foot pole. What was worse, she would let Ken down. The man had traveled to Louisiana solely to offer her a job. The act was unheard of in her field. Reporters auditioned and worked for years to land the position she had. Unless they had serious connections. Dahlia was an orphan; she’d never had anything but her wits and the strange abilities Ken was helping her to control.

She was truly screwed.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts she never heard her office door open. She didn’t notice the subject of her obsession silently closing the door, locking it behind him.

“Am I imposing?”

Dahlia jerked her head up with a gasp. Oh, God, the man was even more devastating up close and personal. He moved with silent grace a man of his size should not have. His eyes pinned her to the spot, making the slow flow of need morph into a river.