Tag Archives: Dark Fantasy

New Release: Devotion by Carys Seraphine #darkfantasy #vampires @changelingpress

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For the past few decades, vampiress Erin Morana has mourned the death of her sire, Jon. She’s done her best to move forward, and now she’s renovating the mansion once used by a psychopathic vampire. Between her magic lessons with the mage Lazarus and the anticipation of the birth of her best friend’s baby, Erin has her hands full.

An attack on a dark street, however, changes everything. Now she’s caught in the middle of a fight she has little hope of winning, but she isn’t alone.

She’s never been alone.

Get it Now at Changeling Press

Preorder for July 2nd at Online Booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Carys Seraphine

“Wow!”

Erin Morana grinned and let her best friend, Dana Reid, into the newly renovated mansion. “Like it?”

Dana wandered from room to room on the ground floor, stopped before Erin, and gave her a tight hug. “Oh, my God. It’s gorgeous. I can’t feel even the slightest hint of Harlan Yates here.”

“You can thank Lazarus and Jessie for that,” Erin said. The mage and his lover had been instrumental in fixing the atmosphere of Yates’ house of horrors.

Dana bumped Erin’s shoulder. “From what I’ve heard, you’re no slouch in the magic department.”

Erin shrugged. “I’m still learning. It’ll take years before I even come close to Jessie or Lazarus, but I love it.”

Dana nodded. She walked up the stairs, exploring more of the house. After their little group of vampires, demons, and mages had destroyed the last of Yates’ followers, Erin set about changing the house into an actual home for donors and vampires alike. She hated the word “coven” and chose to just call the place a safehouse instead. It was the kind of refuge she’d hoped Yates offered, only to find things under his rule vastly different and far from safe.

“Have you claimed a room yet?” Dana called from the railing above.

“Not yet.” Erin headed upstairs and met her friend. “I’ve been sleeping in the library downstairs. Feels too… weird when I’m here alone.”

Dana nodded. “I get that. If Saul hadn’t left his loft to me, I’d join you. Maybe I still will, though. I don’t know.”

“You think Haez will care?”

Dana snorted. “As long as we have our privacy, I don’t think he gives a damn. Of course, we’d need a second room for the baby when he gets here.” Dana rested a hand on her belly. The child was the result of Dana’s previous boyfriend, not the demon she now dated. But after one of Yates’ offspring bit Dana, there was no telling how the child would turn out. Up to that point, Dana had solely been a psivamp, but now she and her baby were hybrids, though, thankfully, he would only need energy. As far as she knew, anyway.

“I’m sure we can arrange that,” Erin said.

The front door downstairs opened, and they both looked down.

“You should keep your door locked, my dear,” Lazarus said by way of greeting. Many thought the mage to be a bit snobbish and coarse, but Erin liked him. He glanced up and waved. “Good evening, ladies.”

Erin smiled and hurried down the stairs. If anyone else had seen the hug they shared, they wouldn’t believe it. Lazarus felt like a father, not the magical mentor he’d become to her. “I’m sorry. Dana just got here, so I didn’t even think about it.”

Lazarus tsked but smiled. “Noted, but please, lock the door at all times.”

“I will,” Erin said. “I promise.”

“Very good.” Lazarus nodded at Dana as she came down the steps. “I believe Haez is returning this evening.”

Dana’s eyes lit up, and she smiled. “I know.” She practically bounced. “I need to go back to the loft before our gig. Then it’s showtime!”

Erin laughed as her friend left. Then she made a point of locking the front door. She turned to find Lazarus watching her. “What?”

“Are you certain you’re okay here alone?”

“I am.” Erin looked around at the place, unable to hide the pride she felt at the work she’d accomplished. “It feels more like a home now, and I’m hoping to find some new people to move in soon. I sleep in the library, but once I get a few tenants in, I’ll claim a room upstairs.”

“Very well,” Lazarus said. “For now, let us return to the kitchen. It’s the best place for practice, more open.”

“What are we going to work on today?” Erin asked as they entered the newly renovated kitchen and dining room.

Lazarus moved the dining table with no effort at all. For such a petite man, the mage possessed an inordinate amount of strength. He set the six chairs aside and nodded. “Much better. Your barriers are strong, but I feel they could be improved. Defense is paramount. Always remember that, my dear.”

For a moment, Erin lost herself in a memory. Jon had told her that very same thing, so long ago. If she’d learned then…

“Erin?”

She shook her head and found Lazarus studying her, concern in his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Are you all right?”

She’d never gone into detail with anyone about Jon, not even Dana. She needed Lazarus’ lessons, but her heart and mind were elsewhere. “I…”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Carys Seraphine is an alter ego of gay romance author Mychael Black. She lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with her family and their dog.

Carys at Changeling: changelingpress.com/carys-seraphine-a-224

Release Blitz: Unus (Gargoyles’ Song) by Stephanie Burke #LGBTQ #paranormalromance @FlashyCat @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Unus

Series: Gargoyles’ Song 2

Author: Stephanie Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: June 18, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Female

Length: 202

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Pansexual, Multisexual, Dark Fantasy, Action Adventure, Paranormal Romance, Alien Encounters, Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures

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Synopsis

Emerging from the cocoon, the last thing Cyprus expects is to be female. But there she is, the only female born of the Clan Equlestraa Untitalis, the most important family in their clan. She still remains a warrior, through and through, and no pair of breasts is going to stop her from her training! Until she meets him.

Alknowan, the Prince of the Dragonish Prime, thinks he’s saving a damsel in distress. But instead, he takes one look at Cyprus and loses his heart. He vows to do anything to keep her, including battling her to the death for the honor of keeping her.

But there are more issues. She is of the Equlestraa, the horse type gargoyle warriors, while Alknowan’s secondary form is Dragon. Then there’s the matter of her wanting to kill him. But if he can survive her family, the politics trying to keep them apart, and Cyprus herself, then he would give up everything to become Unus, the First of her Coven.

Excerpt

Unus (Gargoyles’ Song 2)
Stephanie Burke
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Stephanie Burke

Out!

Have to get out!

It was too tight! It was too dark!

Can’t… breathe!

With heart racing and fear mounting, the panicked being struggled against the thick bindings that encased and restricted shem’s movement.

No one ever said that the conversion, the physical change would be so… so… there were no words! Cyprusurakaliesupreidesa raked long nails against the membranes, shem’s limbs moving slowly through the pale pink fluid that filled the sack.

Cyprus could hear the boom of the voices above, echoing down through the fluid. That is Cypusupriaratizaor Raitza, this Coven’s Master. Cyprus’s fevered mind latched on to that thought and held fast, using it as a talisman and a calming tool.

Coven Master was there. Coven Master was there!

Why is the Coven Master not offering aid?

It was enough to make Cyprus want to scream, to lament shem’s physical imprisonment, to demand release.

So that was what Cyprus did, buried the fingers of both hands in shem’s long flowing hair, the hair that entrapped almost as well as the casing surrounding Cyprus, opened shem’s mouth and… choked.

Out! Out! Out! OUT!

The thoughts of escape swirled through an even more terrified mind as anxiety grew. Fear and frustration ruled, tearing through shem’s mind and flowing through shem’s consciousness until Cyprus thought for sure shem would be swallowed up by a sea of black and red fury. Madness! Cyprus recognized its teasing call, the fall into the mental state where nothing existed but pure emotion. Right then, that emotion was rage. That rage, that taste of madness, scared Cyprus almost as much as being locked in this cocoon. It was the fear of that yawning, tantalizing unknown that lent Cyprus the strength to shove at the liquid thing holding shem prisoner.

Cyprus clawed and scratched at the membranes, kicking and twisting, fighting until the nails of one hand pushed their way through the thick, rubbery walls.

Yes, there was a way out. Cyprus dug at the tear, using both hands now, pulling and jerking until a sudden waft of cool air caressed shem’s fingers.

“Not long now.”

Coven Master was still there. Cyprus could hear her speaking.

She must be speaking with my Damshire. The thought comforted Cyprus, calmed the chaotic thoughts streaking through shem’s frantic mind. That both Coven Master and Damshire were waiting for the completed emergence enhanced a sense of calm, but also reignited the desire to be done with the whole process.

Yes, that’s right. The emergence. How long had it been?

Cyprus couldn’t remember.

Cyprus’s last memory was of bathing with shem’s six siblings, laughing and joking with the youngers about the change, exchanging knowing glances with the elders, knowing that shem’s Sibs understood the excitement and the mounting fear.

And then as shem made a comfortable nest of bankets that night with the siblings, the light of the setting suns caressed Cyprus’s face as shem stared up at the darkening sky through the large windows that surrounded the crèche room.

The large yellow moon glowed in the rich purpling of the growing night sky. It seemed so close that Cyprus reached out a hand to caress it, knowing that change was going to happen and somehow feeling in harmony with the ever-changing face of the first moon.

Purchase

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

Meet 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.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Bookbub

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BOOK REVIEW: Mine in Hell (The Rejected Mate #2) by G. Bailey and Scarlett Snow #reverseharem @gbaileyauthor

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Now the world knows who I am.

I’m the first female alpha in history and every pack leader out there wants to claim me as their mate.
Including the Stormfire alpha who sent my life into a spiral after rejecting me.
While he and the others fight for the right to possess me, a new Demon Trial is created in honor of the Crescent Mother, and this time I’m the prize.
Or so they all believe.
I’ll stop at nothing to reclaim my freedom even if it means entering the trials myself, where the only way out is death and ruin. But I don’t plan on dying.
I plan on winning.

I’m going to make each of the alphas pay for what they did to me.

18+ Dark reverse harem romance full with a sassy and sarcastic heroine who finds her match.

Get it at Amazon

MY REVIEW – 5 stars!

I recently discovered Ms. Bailey’s books, and I think I’m hooked. Reverse harem is quickly becoming my new favorite genre, and while I typically dislike cliffhangers, I don’t mind it so much with fantasy books.

Lilith is still fighting for her life, for revenge, and for love. The three men she’s fallen for only make her stronger and more determined as one enemy after another tries to tear them apart and destroy the world’s first alpha female. There’s nothing she won’t do to take down the monsters and free those under their influence. Lilith is furious and she’s ready to protect the innocent.

Full of unexpected twists, and more than a little heat, Mine in Hell is a page-turning read I couldn’t put down. Love. Danger. Friendship… and so much more. I hope you’re ready for one hell of a ride (pun intended).

*Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review.

New Release: Damned & Confused by Crymsyn Hart #darkfantasy @crymsynhart

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Meriel discovers an ancient deck of Tarot cards while cleaning out an old house for her sister. When she opens the box of cards, out pops Wile, a demon hell-bent on protecting her from Raziel, a Prince of Hell.

If Raziel gets the cards and Meriel, he can open a portal to release the devil into the world. Together, Wile and Meriel have to stay one step ahead of Raziel.

The Tarot start to teach her their secrets and help her understand her deepening connection to Wile. Can she learn what she needs to in order to keep the devil at bay and save her demon?

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Preorder for June 18th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Crymsyn Hart

Meriel ran her fingers through her hair and stared at the mess of boxes she had to contend with. Sunlight streamed in through the cobwebbed windows, highlighting the dust she’d stirred by setting foot in the attic. She gathered her hair, twisted it into a bun, and thrust a pen through it. A piece came loose and draped in front of her eyes. She stuck it behind her ear and groaned as she looked at the list of things her sister, Kendra, had left for her to do. Two pages of tasks to get the house cleared out. Kendra had taken over their mother’s cleaning business once she had retired. Since Meriel was out of a job, Kendra had enlisted her to work. The money paid Meriel’s bills, but the work never seemed to end. Meriel knew because she’d worked with her their mother long before Kendra came along. Her little sister never had it as demanding as Meriel did growing up.

Better get to it. She gazed around the attic. Antique furniture piled next to trunks was shoved into the corner. An old sewing machine, a mannequin dummy, and numerous old cardboard boxes waited for her to dig through them. Whatever was written on the side to describe the contents had faded with time. She wiped her hand across her head from the sweat forming on her brow. It was only nine and already the attic was stifling.

Meriel ripped open the first box and found nothing more than old photos, china, and other knickknacks. She moved the box aside and started a pile of things they could sell. She kept on going and got lost in the monotony of pulling boxes and figuring out which things to trash and what could be sold.

By the time she got half the attic sorted, the mound to be tossed far outweighed the pitiful heap of what they could keep. She stopped and took a bottle of water from the cooler. The liquid slipped down her throat, then she ran the perspiring bottle over her forehead and enjoyed the coolness of the water on her skin. She grabbed a box from the trash pile and ventured down to the first floor. She set it down by the front door.

Meriel peered through the dusty window. The breeze had picked up greatly since she had gotten there. She opened the door to get a better look at the sky. A boom of thunder greeted her. A bolt of lightning arced overhead as dark clouds approached the house. An ominous feeling settled over her as she stared at the coming tempest. Her yellow Ford Focus looked like an ant waiting to be squashed by the encroaching storm. Her side vibrated. She dug her phone out of her pocket and saw a tornado warning had been issued for her area.

Metallic pings caught her attention and drew her gaze to her car. Pea-size balls of ice bounced off the hood of her car. Dread crept up her spine as the gale grew bigger. Perfect, I’m stuck in a big creepy house in the middle of a storm. Another boom of thunder and a gush of wind struck. The rain mixed with the hail hit her face, stinging sharply. The clouds had moved in faster than she anticipated. Darkness engulfed the house until it felt like night had fallen. The clouds had taken on a purple-black hue with a tinge of orange mixed in. She heard a crunch. Hail the size of grapefruit had hit her windshield and fell on the roof of her car before rolling off onto the cracked driveway.

Meriel slammed the front door shut. The next roll of thunder shook the house. Sounds like God is doing construction up there. She tried the light switch, but the power flickered and went out. She checked the radar on her weather app. It showed a red and orange blob coming straight at her location. The way the building quaked and with the pounding hail crashing against the house, she wasn’t going to take a chance. Using the flashlight on her phone, she rushed into the kitchen, hoping to find the basement door. Meriel hadn’t explored much of the house except to find the bathroom and the attic. The kitchen appliances were large and from the late 1940s. She pulled open a door by the fridge. A pantry with a few old jars on the shelves. A squeak made her jump as several mice scampered out of the way.

“Mother… fudgenugget. I hate mice.” Meriel slammed the door.

A loud bang overhead didn’t make her feel any better. She heard a soft click and then a creak. Meriel followed the sound and discovered a door in the hallway she had passed by. It blended with the wall so well she didn’t even realize it was there. Stairs led down into the darkness. Her flashlight flickered on and off. Thunder rattled the windows and made her head into the cellar for safety. Rushing wind and pelting rain battered the windows.

The light from her phone let her see the basement filled with more discarded antiques. Besides the collection of antiques, there were shelves of canned goods covered with cobwebs. The cellar fit every stereotype of what a scary basement should be. Spiders hung from their webs. Broken furniture was scattered around. Shelves of canned goods so old the labels had worn off filled one wall. All she needed now was a ghost to pop out and say boo. She glanced at her phone. Great. No signal.

As she moved farther into the basement, she heard water dripping. It led her to another room with a dirt floor. Thick wooden beams supported the floor above. Inside, she found an old well. In the old days, people used to build wells inside the houses. She had never come across it before, though. The sound of the storm didn’t seem as bad. Something about the place didn’t feel right. Water plopped onto her hand. She panned her flashlight around the basement and discovered a wooden door. I wonder where this goes? Let’s find out.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Crymsyn Hart is a National Bestselling author of over eighty paranormal romance and horror novels. Her experiences as a psychic and ghostly encounters have given her a lot of material to use in her books. Vampires, grim reapers, shifters, and other paranormal creatures tend to end up in her books no matter how hard she tries to keep them away.

She currently resides in Charlotte, NC with her hubby and her three dogs. If she’s not writing, she’s curled up with the dogs watching a good horror movie or off with friends.

To find out more about Crymsyn, check out her website on: www.crymsynhart.com

Release Blitz: Scorned Gods by Mychael Black #LGBTQ #darkfantasy @changelingpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Scorned Gods

Author: Mychael Black

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: June 18, 2021

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 154

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Urban Fantasy, Multiple Partners, Multisexual & Pansexual, Rock Star, Vampires

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Synopsis

Music isn’t all that Scorned Gods has to offer.

Iconoclast (Scorned Gods 1): Death metal group Scorned Gods needs a new singer. Firestarter’s former lead singer Jason Summerfield and his lover Julian Kristados are back in the United States, and Jason is itching to get back on stage. What he gets, however, is far more than that — and not all of it is good.

Delirium (Scorned Gods 2): Jason and Julian have acquired a new lover, Scorned Gods’ bassist, Saul. But a cult of vampires is hell-bent on starting a war between mortals and vampires. Its first prime targets are psychic vampires like Jason’s bandmates…

Shackled (Scorned Gods 3): With help from an Abaddon ally, Jason and his bandmates will have to act quickly to stop Harlan Yates. The escaped mortal, Daniel, is the unwilling beacon that can bring destruction upon them all.

Karma’s Brutality (Scorned Gods 4): With their allies from Abaddon, Jason takes the fight directly to Yates. Jason and his bandmates from Scorned Gods are about to discover combat is not for the faint of heart. Not everyone will come out unscathed, but that’s the nature of war.

Publisher’s Note: Scorned Gods (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Iconoclast, Delirium, Shackled, and Karma’s Brutality.

Excerpt

Scorned Gods (Box Set)
Mychael Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Mychael Black
Excerpt from Iconoclast

The door slammed shut, and Saul Calderon glanced at his bandmates. “Well, that was a waste of time. Now what?”

Twins Nicholas and Dana Reid both sighed, though Dana spoke up first. “Good riddance,” she said. “There are other singers — most with more talent than that jackass had. We can find someone.”

“Hopefully in enough time to actually learn the songs,” her brother grumbled.

Saul sat on the stool beside his amp, his bass resting on his lap. “Where do these fuckers come from? You’d think someone who claims to be a ‘big fan’ would actually know our songs.”

“Hell if I know,” Dana said with a shrug. She set her sticks on her snare and redid her fire-engine red ponytail. Although she and Nicholas were twins, they weren’t identical. She looked nothing like her brother. “We need… new blood.”

A shiver snaked its way up Saul’s spine. None of them had fed in a few days, and although they didn’t drink blood, the urge for it occasionally hit. Dana gave him a knowing look. She’d been the one to bring them together years ago. Back then, they’d only sensed kindred spirits who needed energy to survive. The music had been a happy accident. But even among vampires, their kind were pariahs. Rumors ran rampant about the band members’ true natures, though no one knew the exact truth. Sometimes, they tossed in a random blood feeding onstage just to drive the crowd wild, but Saul preferred tantric energy to blood any day.

“Yo, dude!”

Fingers snapped in front of Saul’s face, and he shook his head. Nicholas gave him a quizzical look.

“Sorry. Just… zoned out, I guess,” Saul said. “Dana’s right, though. We need someone new, someone this fucking city hasn’t heard.”

“Good luck with that,” Nicholas said. “That idiot was number… shit, I don’t even remember now.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Saul wasn’t sure he believed that himself, but it felt good to say, at least. His cell buzzed in his pocket, and he tugged it out to glance at the text message. “Huh.”

“Who is it?” Dana asked.

“Some guy named Jason Summerfield. Says he sang with Firestarter.”

“The pyro band?” Nicholas grinned.

Saul shrugged. “I suppose. I don’t know of any other Firestarter.”

“Didn’t they break up a few years ago?” Dana began packing her things. “I caught one of their shows. If it’s the same guy, he’s fucking good.”

Saul read the text aloud:

My name is Jason Summerfield. I found your ad and am looking for a new band. I just moved to town a few weeks ago, but I fronted Firestarter for several years in Atlanta.

“What have we got to lose?” Nicholas asked as he put away his guitar.

“I’ll set up a time tomorrow then,” Saul said.

While Noah and Dana finished getting their things together, Saul replied to the text.

Hey there. I’ve heard of Firestarter, though I never saw you guys live. I play bass for Scorned Gods. I’d like to meet and chat, see if you’d be a good fit. When’s a good time for you?

A few minutes passed, and Saul walked Dana and Noah to the front door of his loft. Just as he shut the door, his phone buzzed again.

Anytime tonight would be great.

He texted back, How about eight?

Sounds great.

Awesome. I know a cool little coffeehouse downtown called Urban Joe’s. Need directions?

Nah. I can find it. See you then.

Saul grinned. If this guy was as good as Dana claimed, maybe things would work out after all. He grabbed his laptop off the kitchen table and sat down on the couch. A quick Google search yielded photos, mp3 clips, and vids of Firestarter. Saul stared at a promo pic of Jason Summerfield.

“Holy shit, he’s hot.”

Purchase

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

Meet the Author

Myc has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael. Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC games, reading, watching Netflix, and spending way too much time on Facebook. Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is bio-female, mentally male, and 100% genderfluid, so any pronoun works!

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Nighted by Torri Heat #darkfantasy #paranormalromance @torriheat

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Jasper and Ava have made it through every hurdle thrown their way — together. Their relationship is stronger — and hotter — than ever. But now something new and deadly is after Ava. The pair also can’t forget the minor detail that her mother is still missing.

The supernatural world is dangerous, and full of things that go bump in the night. Will they be able to find the monster before the monster finds her?

Available Today at Changeling Press

Preorder for June 18th at online booksellers

Praise for Nighted (Darkling 3)

“I’ve been following Torri’s work from Nyctophilia and with every new piece I become more and more invested. I adore the progression Torri has created between each of her installments in her Darkling Series… I adore her characters even more. [The] romance with Jasper is just absolutely superb. Their dynamic connection and spice is everything.”

— 5 Stars from Jennifer Claire, Goodreads Review

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Torri Heat

If I thought back really far, I could almost remember my mother telling me a story. About creatures who lived in the woods, and monsters that went bump in the night. Bedtime stories created to scare children. Except I was no longer a child, and I knew better now than to think those stories were made up.

None of this mattered anymore. My mother and I had no relationship left, and this was definitely not the time for a casual discussion on children’s stories. I had bigger things to worry about. The forest I was currently sprinting through full tilt was far from imaginary, although the scene could’ve been from a dream. The dense foliage was thick with new growth, lush like a fairy tale. Bright flowers bloomed in the small gaps of sunlight. The only thing missing was the bird song, preferably from a friendly bluebird Instead, the only thing I heard as I ran was the sound of my own heartbeat.

I wanted to stop and catch my breath, but I couldn’t. He’d find me, and that was a whole world of trouble I didn’t even want to contemplate. So I kept running, my heartbeat keeping time with my silent footsteps.

There were perks to being a Venator, and then there were skills I had worked my ass off to learn. The quiet way I could move through the forest was one of those skills I was most proud of, and my talent was paying off tenfold at the moment. My original plan had been to do a wide circle in the woods, coming out at the far end, which hadn’t been working out for me so far. Venator or not, my stamina wasn’t unlimited. What I needed was a distraction, or some way to let me loop back on myself. I eyed the aging trees as I ran deeper. The thick vines desperately making their way skyward were too new to provide any real support, but they might give me some traction if I could find a tree small enough to find good holds. Just ahead of me I found my target. A tree younger than the rest with some low limbs, but not fully covered in the twining green ropes. Perfect.

I jumped, reaching for the first low limb and pulling myself into the tree. I continued to climb until I was high enough in the leaves that I was unable to be seen but could still hear everything going on below me. Unfortunately, this vantage point also left my vision partially obstructed. I would have to rely on a combination of my senses and hope for the best. I pulled myself as small as I could, straining my ears to hear the sounds beneath my hiding place. I needed to wait until he passed by me, and then I could make my way back out of the woods. Easy. I had outmaneuvered wolves loads of times. My breath and my heart kept an odd melody in my head, and I forced myself to slow down. I needed to listen.

I heard the heavy breathing first. I must have pulled up at the perfect time, because he wasn’t far behind me. I could hear sniffing down the trail I had followed. I pulled my feet even closer to my body, willing my heart to be silent. I had come this far. I could make it a little while longer. I kept count of the seconds, tapping my finger on my tight black shirt. One. Two. Three. There was the swish of a tail in the bushes beneath me. I could see the edges of the damp fur but couldn’t make out the whole body. Holding my breath, I waited to see if he would find my hiding spot or would move on. Four. Five. Six. The fur slowly disappeared, and the sniffing faded out further along the trail. I would give him a couple more minutes, just to make sure, and then I would jump down and move. Seven. Eight. Nine. My hiding spot had been a success. There was no more sign of him. Now I only needed to get back in one piece. I took a deep breath and jumped down.

Ten.

I took a quick look around me, feeling satisfied I hadn’t been found out. I turned on my heel to head back the way I had come, before he noticed I was no longer ahead of him. But before I could move, something snaked out from the left of me and grabbed my wrist. My heart stopped. Shit.

“What gave me away?” My voice sounded a lot braver than I felt. Bravery was a constant work in progress, especially when the supernatural world wasn’t one you were expecting to find yourself living in.

Jasper smirked. “Your scent was all over those vines, Green. You should know better than to climb on the greenery without masking your scent first.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Torri Heat has always loved control. Her mind was blown when she discovered she could control entire worlds through story writing. Throw some steamy romance in there, and it was pretty close to perfection. Torri loves dark heroes who ride off into the sunset on their motorcycles, fierce heroines who can fend for themselves, and a sprinkle of the paranormal to keep things interesting. When she’s not creating alternate realities you can find her managing her three ring circus of kids and animals.  

Find Torri Online: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

New Release: Dire Wolves (paperback) by Shelby Morgen and Lena Austin #paranormalromance #LGBTQ @shelbymorgen @Lena_Austin

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Whiteout by Shelby Morgen: Zan gives John a reason to want to live as a man again. But before he can make that kind of promise, he’s got unfinished business to take care of.

Silence by Lena Austin: Noel Miller, a vampire with a few scars of his own, wants to be more than Cam’s sign language interpreter. If only the werewolf will let him into his life — and heart.

White Heat by Shelby Morgen: Heather Grant’s got far too much experience working with stubborn males. She figures it would serve both Alphas right if their pride blows their cover. But someone’s got to salvage the mission.

Available in paperback at Amazon

Praise for Dire Wolves (Box Set)


“…a collection that grabs the reader, takes them on a journey, and ensures some cold showers. Erotic, captivating, and deliciously carnal are how I would describe The Dire Wolves Anthology. It is definitely worth reading, worth adding to one’s reading library, and well worth re-reading.”— 4 Stars from Nikki, Sensuous Reviews  

“This book hooked me from the get go. I just couldn’t put it down. I fell in love with these characters… just a perfect read.” — 5 Stars from Jeanne, Amazon Review

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021
Excerpt from Silence by Lena Austin

“Danse Macabre” was a lousy choice for a ring tone, but Detective Cameron Douglas always thought about it when he had the least amount of time to change the ring to something else. The tune was the last he’d ever hear. Cam didn’t know that sad fact, or he’d have changed the ring sooner.

Cam snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open as soon as he saw it was his boss, Lt. Kraynak. “Hey, Mark! You caught me just leaving the mayor’s office.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s voice always sounded nervous, but at that moment, he sounded as squeaky as a girl. Cam always wondered if Mark was as closet gay as Cam himself. “How’d it go?”

Cam sighed. The investigation into the death of the mayor’s secretary, Margaret Lund, was supposed to be kept very quiet and low-key. “We got the blood from her apartment at the lab, looking for DNA. They seem to be consistent with the defensive marks found on her body despite floating around in the St. John’s River for a while. I’ve got a few good leads.” He had to be vague. Cam couldn’t exactly tell his boss he was a werewolf and he’d caught an odd, masculine scent in Margaret’s apartment. He knew any sort of masculine odor didn’t belong in that apartment because Margaret and his mother had been lovers for over twenty years. Not exactly what you want the whole world to know. Mom had been in the closet all her life, and he wasn’t about to out her when she was mourning “Aunt Maggie’s” death. Dad would turn over in his grave, the day care she’d run for fifteen years would close, and her life would be in ruins. What she and Maggie had enjoyed just wasn’t ever going to be public, and that wasn’t admissible evidence anyway.

He could see it now. Him, on the witness stand. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m a werewolf you see, and I sniffed this odor…” He winced, even to himself.

“I don’t like it, Cam. You shouldn’t be on this case. Ms. Lund was your mother’s best friend. You could be called prejudiced in court.” Mark popped another gumball in his mouth. Cam heard it rattle against his teeth before it crackled as he chewed it into oblivion. Mark’d been trying to quit smoking again, and kept a gumball bank on his desk.

“I don’t like it, either, Mark. Where His Honor got the idea I’d be the only detective who could do the job is beyond me.” Cam was in sight of his car at last. The covered parking garage across the street from City Hall was a piece of shit like all the rest of downtown. Half the security cameras didn’t work at the best of times, and the roof leaked whenever it rained. So where was he parked? On the roof. In the rain. Of course. So he was wet. It was Florida. Not like he would melt. He was a werewolf, not a witch, and this wasn’t Hollyweird.

The beep in his ear made him jump, and the caller ID told him it was Mom. “Hey, I’m at my car. Hang on a sec.” Cam flipped over to his mother’s call and sat down on a bench about fifty feet from his car, in the shelter covering the elevator. “Hi, Mom.” He frowned and noticed the hood of his car was slightly ajar. That was odd. He distinctly remembered changing the oil the previous Sunday and slamming the hood closed because he hated working in the hot sun.

He never heard her answer. Hell, he never heard anything except the biggest boom on the planet.

Waking up wasn’t like someone flipped on a light switch. It was more like a lazy Sunday morning when you didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything in particular, so you could roll over and laze in bed. That is, until your bladder or some other bodily need woke you up.

What woke him up was pain. Cam had the worst headache ever, even beyond hangovers and mild concussions from playing rugby. Cam felt like he’d been run over by a semi, too, with a backache from lying in one position too long on top of assorted injuries. Worst of all was the ringing in his ears. Tinnitus, he guessed. Not bad, since Cam had to assume he’d survived that explosion. Hell, he counted himself lucky when he opened his eyes and saw his left leg in bandages, not a cast. If a headache, a bum leg, and a case of tinnitus were all he had to suffer through, Cam was happy.

A nurse peeked in. She saw Cam was awake and smiled at him. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears. She frowned when Cam told her she’d have to speak up, and would she bring him something for the headache and tinnitus? She turned around and walked out without another word. She was back with something she shot into his IV. Whatever it was put him out like a light. Pain, tinnitus, and consciousness all went away at once.

When next Cam could put two words together in a coherent sentence, the clock on the wall and the darkness out the window gave him a clue it was 7:30 PM, not AM. He’d slept away the whole day. Great. Now his ears were sore.

A young man in a lab coat read a book in the corner chair, even though the only light source was the fluorescent above the head of Cam’s bed. The guy’s eyesight must have been superlative. He looked up slowly, and Cam was completely arrested — pardon the pun — by his eyes. They were big, blue and so world-weary Cam wanted to — maybe buy the kid a cup of coffee and give him a sympathetic ear. Then the newcomer smiled, and the world was all sunshine and cheer. The young man tapped on the keyboard of his laptop without taking his gaze off Cam’s face.

Cam moved restlessly under that intense blue gaze that did not in the least match with the smile. Cam opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when the screen on a laptop left on his lap table brightened. He frowned and studied the screen. “Can you read this?” Surprised, Cam nodded without thinking.

The blue-eyed man smiled and nodded. “Good. How’s your tinnitus?” lit up on the screen in a standard IM chat feature of a common website.

“Um… should I answer aloud?” Cam felt suddenly adrift in a strange sea, unsure of himself for the first time since college. Still, he did an internal check, and the buzzing still filled his ears like a thousand crickets on speed. “Yep, still have the crickets.” The realization hit him. “The explosion caused this tinnitus, didn’t it?”

“Yes, Mr. Douglas. Please speak more softly.” The IM kept up easily, and the young man’s hands flew silently but rapidly over the tiny keyboard. Damn, this guy was good.

Oops. Cam wasn’t stupid. He knew that those with hearing issues often spoke too loudly, trying to over-compensate for their loss. He modified his volume. “Um. Sorry.” He clung to the thin thread of hope that the tinnitus was causing his hearing loss, but he knew a bunch of cops who’d neglected ear protection at the shooting range once too often. Tinnitus could be permanent, or worse, the symptom of something much, much worse.

The IM lit up with several lines in rapid succession. “My name is Noel Miller, and I am your ENT therapist.” Now the cheer was gone, and the face serious.

Cam’s heart hammered, and he swallowed to help his suddenly dry mouth. Fear, ice-cold and cruel, raced up his spine. Part of him was grateful he still had painkillers in his system. Deep inside himself, a little kid threw a major temper tantrum, even if he held himself rigidly under control. “I’m deaf, aren’t I?”

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Shelby Morgen

Shelby Morgen loves writing offbeat tales that defy as many rules as possible.

She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, suspense with her romance, and kink with her sex, and she’s always had a hard time keeping science fiction, fantasy and paranormal from mixing with her kink.

Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her longtime friend and partner, Bill, her husband of nearly four decades.

Lena Austin

Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you’ll have many tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena’s a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba — she’s got a lifetime of “Research material!”

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won’t listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something?

New Release: Spirits of Abaddon by Mychael Black #LGBTQ #darkfantasy

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Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Gay Romance

There’s no denying the attraction between Jesse and Gabriel, but Jesse doesn’t like vampires, and he purposely avoids Gabriel whenever he can. When Jesse witnesses a murder, he finds himself on the run, and his only choice is to turn to the one man he’s been trying to ignore.

Jesse and Gabriel have their work cut out for them the moment they step foot into Gabriel’s home world of Abaddon. With the elemental ice mage Lazarus they uncover the unthinkable: a plot to overthrow the throne of Abaddon itself.

Gabriel has a secret weapon in the coming war: Jesse. As a vampire/elemental crossbreed, Jesse possesses powers surpassing those of both his lovers. There’s little time for him to come into his full abilities, however, and it’s going to take a miracle if he and his lovers are to survive.

Publisher’s Note: Spirits of Abaddon contains the previously published novellas Bad Blood, Sanctified, Darkness in Paradise, Twilight of the Gods.

Available today at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 21st at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Mychael Black
Excerpt from Bad Blood

Energy hummed through Jesse, and he left the techs to break down his kit. The crowd normally gathered in front of the stage had dispersed, some to the bar, others scattered around the small but popular club. He grinned and caught a bottle of water when the bartender tossed it to him.

“Good show.”

Jesse closed his eyes and barely suppressed a shiver. He clutched the cold bottle, hoping it would put out the heat surging through his body. He knew that voice. He heard it every night in his head, every time he wrapped his fingers around his own cock.

“Thanks.” He forced himself to turn around and meet an enigmatic grey gaze.

Gabriel Walsh embodied everything Jesse had ever wanted: gorgeous looks, expressive eyes, a body built for sin, and all in all, a decent personality. Only one problem… Gabriel also had fangs. And drank blood. Human blood.

That fact alone scared the hell out of Jesse more than he cared to admit.

Yet he couldn’t resist panting Gabriel’s name every night, even if no one else heard it.

Jesse struggled for something to say, but his voice refused to work beyond one-syllable words. Gabriel smiled, the effect disarming until his fangs came into view. Unlike Julian, Gabriel didn’t hide them. Jesse wondered if there were more differences between them — namely feeding. Julian didn’t kill, but Jesse had a gut feeling Gabriel did, and would gladly do so again.

“Jess!”

Grateful for something to break the tension, Jesse turned away from Gabriel and waved at Jason. “I’ll catch you guys later!” Then he returned his attention to Gabriel. “Um, I need to go.”

Gabriel nodded and motioned toward the door. “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

“Yeah.”

Jesse hurried out of the bar and only stopped walking fast when he neared his car. He got in and shut the door, but instead of turning the key, he rested his forehead to the steering wheel, eyes closed, and concentrated on breathing. Why, out of all the guys in Atlanta, did he have to fall for the one who scared the ever-loving shit out of him?

A knock on the driver’s side window startled him, and he jerked his head up to see Gabriel crouching beside the car. Jesse rolled down the window, hoping the door itself would be enough of a barrier between them.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… tired, I guess. Long show.”

“Why do you fear us?”

“I don’t.” Jesse shrugged. “I don’t like vampires; that’s all. At least Julian doesn’t freak me out anymore.”

“And me?”

Jesse refused to meet Gabriel’s gaze. “You aren’t like him.”

“Oh?”

A single touch, a finger beneath his chin, drew Jesse’s face back around. This man embodied sex appeal so strong it chipped away at Jesse’s defenses little by little. Gabriel Walsh also was, without a doubt, dangerous.

“I would never hurt you.”

Jesse wanted to believe it. He wanted it almost as much as Gabriel himself. Gabriel traced Jesse’s jaw with his fingertip and it took every ounce of willpower on Jesse’s part to not chase that finger with his mouth. He stared at lips he’d fantasized about, only to realize he hadn’t heard a word Gabriel said.

He blinked and looked up. “Um, sorry. I wasn’t…” Gabriel smiled slowly. “I didn’t…” He watched, entranced by the lips nearing his own. “I…”

Stop. Stop, stop, stop…

The first touch stole his breath and the protests died on his tongue. In a momentary lapse of reason, Jesse gave in. Gabriel took control, tongue sweeping through Jesse’s mouth, hands on either side of his head. Before Jesse could even think about how far he really wanted this to go, however, Gabriel drew back.

“I know you don’t trust me, but I’m here should you ever need me.”

Jesse watched Gabriel walk away and a part of him screamed for more than a kiss. Much more.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Myc has been writing professionally since 2005, solo and with Shayne Carmichael. Genres include pretty much anything (no steampunk yet), though Myc is well known for paranormal stories. When not writing, Myc is usually playing PC games, reading, watching Netflix, and spending way too much time on Facebook. Since the question has come up in the past, pronouns are not an issue. Myc is bio-female, mentally male, and 100% genderfluid, so any pronoun works!

Wake Me by Angela Knight #darkfantasy #bdsm @AngelaKnight

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Wedding Photographer Chloe Hart has just been dumped when she receives a mysterious gift — a painting of a handsome knight in a heavy gold frame worked with what appear to be magical sigils. She promptly hangs the painting up in place of her cheating ex-boyfriend’s portrait.

That night, she has the most delicious dream of Lord Radolf of Varik, the medieval conqueror who has just seized her castle. He seduces her in a red-hot encounter that makes her forget all about ol’ what’s his name. The next night, Radolf is back, this time as the captain of a pirate ship. Night after night, Radolf and Chloe act out some deliciously erotic scene from her favorite guilty-pleasure romance novels. And every single dream seems utterly real, down to the last scent and taste.

What Chloe doesn’t realize is that what’s all fun and games for her is desperately serious for Radolf. He’s been a prisoner for eight hundred years in the castle of a witch, and he can’t escape until he can find a woman who cares enough to free him. Is Chloe that woman?

Even as the two begin to fall in love, a new and horrible fear grips Radolf: what will the witch do to Chloe?

Get it today at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 14th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Angela Knight

Chloe Hart eyed the newspaper with all the enthusiasm of a woman surveying a dentist’s chair before a root canal. “Don’t be a wuss, Chlo’,” she muttered to herself, and picked up the paper.

Gripping it like a club, she marched back into the house to the kitchen table, where a bracing cup of coffee and a Danish waited to fortify her for the coming ordeal. She tossed the paper on the table, plopped down in her chair, and picked up the mug. An incautious sip scalded the tip of her tongue.

At Chloe’s lisped obscenity, Rhett Butler looked up from his Tender Vittles with an inquiring “Meow?”

“Ignore me, Rhett,” she managed around her boiled tongue tip as she unfolded the newspaper with a series of grim snaps. “Just having a bad morning.”

Happy to comply, the muscular black tom settled back down over his bowl. Like his namesake, he frankly didn’t give a damn. But as she’d told her dog-loving buddy, Amanda Rice, there was something to be said for blunt feline honesty.

Chloe paged past a murder, a house fire, and a really spectacular pileup on I-26 to reach the account of her personal Waterloo. She found it on page four in section C.

The bride smiled her familiar grin from a dozen yards of tulle and seed pearls, clutching a bouquet of white roses that cascaded to her silk-covered knees. Chloe could almost hear her mother sniff that a woman with three kids had no business in that much white. From a professional standpoint, she herself thought the composition was a little off; the tilt of the bride’s veiled head and the position of her flowers didn’t quite lead the eye in the proper flow.

“That’s what you get for using a cheap photographer, you backstabbing bitch,” she muttered at the photo. “Then again, if I’d shot you, I wouldn’t have used a camera.”

Without bothering to read the description of the wedding — she wasn’t that big a masochist, thank you — she closed the newspaper and looked at Rhett. “As God is my witness,” she drawled in her best mock-Scarlett O’Hara growl, “I’ll never be a sucker again.”

Knuckles rattled the storm door. Chloe looked up in surprise. Amanda wouldn’t bother to knock, and she wasn’t expecting anybody else. “If that’s Debbie and Chris, stopping by to beg for forgiveness on the way to the honeymoon,” she told the cat as she got up to answer it, “You have my permission to attack.”

Rhett yawned and twisted around to lick his furry backside.

She looked back at him. “Or you can do that. Does express the general sentiment pretty well.”

Chloe opened the door to find a man in a familiar brown uniform, a huge box tucked awkwardly under one arm. “Delivery,” he said, and juggled his electronic clipboard into her hands.

She took it and signed her name in the window, eying the package. “Wonder who that’s from?”

He shrugged, supremely indifferent. “Looks like a picture to me.”

It did have the right dimensions — four feet across and more than a yard wide, but only three or four inches thick. Curiosity piqued, Chloe accepted the heavy parcel and hauled it inside as the delivery truck roared off. She tossed it down on the kitchen table and went in search of a pair of scissors to attack the packing tape. “If it’s a portrait of the bride and groom,” she told Rhett as she dug through the kitchen drawer, “your litter box is gonna get filled with little bits of photo paper.”

Ripping off a strip of the heavy brown cardboard, Chloe lifted her brows at the intriguing sight of bare, tanned chest and a tight male nipple. “I take it back, Rhett,” she murmured. “Somehow I don’t think this is going in the litter box.”

Ten minutes later, the box lay ruthlessly demolished on the floor, and the oil painting it had contained stood propped on the kitchen table.

Chloe stared reverently.

The knight sprawled in sleep across a tumble of rich sable fur, one hand resting on the jeweled hilt of a sword. It looked as if he’d stripped and fallen asleep after a battle.

He was a big, blond Viking of a man, his hair cropped short, a neat beard framing his lush sinner’s mouth. His starkly handsome face looked as though it had been carved by God’s own chisel, but if so, He’d been in a hurry. There was something a bit crude and brutal in the angles of the knight’s cheekbones and big, square chin. Luckily, those features were balanced out by a regal Roman nose and thick blond brows. The whole effect was intensely masculine — and just a little intimidating.

So was the rest of him. He had the build of a man who’d spent his entire life swinging a blade in an era when losing could cost you your life. He’d cut it close a time or two; his brawny body was slashed here and there with scars that reminded Chloe of a tiger’s stripes.

“Really big hands, too,” she purred under her breath, eying his long fingers and broad palms. Unfortunately, one of the pelts lay across his hips in a pool of sable, preventing her from determining if the interesting bits lived up to those hands.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Angela Knight’s romance writing career began in 1996, when she realized her dream of romance publication with Red Sage’s Secrets anthology. She is a New York Times best-selling author of more than fifty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Time Hunters series. Her career spans twenty plus years. Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine gave her a Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for best erotic romance and best werewolf romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press. She also teaches online writing courses with SavvyAuthors.com. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

The Alpha’s Archer by Alexa Piper #paranormalromance @prowlingpiper

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Lindsey likes being a police detective, and she also likes being a werewolf alpha and a good leader to her pack. What Lindsey doesn’t like is the trickster who has decided to court her in the middle of a series of uncanny murders.

Eris likes his bow, well-fletched arrows, and the werewolf alpha who claws at his heart with her werewolf claws, metaphorically speaking. Yet, law enforcement seems to have an issue with a trickster deploying arrows, and Lindsey is ever the diligent detective.

While bodies grace the streets of Fairview, Eris has decided to win his werewolf’s heart. All he needs to figure out is how to make the stubborn alpha into his lover.

Lindsey decides to team up with St. John Investigations, the best in the business of supernatural oddities in all of Fairview, to get to the bottom of her paranormal murder mystery, but she will have to deal with the trickster all by herself.

Will Lindsey overcome her fear of commitment, and will Eris overcome his urge to shoot people? Can the St. John Investigations B-team help solve the series of crimes, and why is there a bear? Find out in this mysterious murder comedy. Warning: Contains sentient and very horny office furniture.

Get it today at Changeling Press

Preorder for May 14th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Alexa Piper

Like any hunter, Eris enjoyed perching. He was doing it — perching on a fire escape — and watching the alpha bitch below who’d snatched his heart in her werewolf claws. Eris held his bow loosely in his hand as Lindsey, all serious Fairview Police detective with her tight ponytail, took in the corpse. It was a nice, distracting corpse, which made it even easier for Eris to remain unseen.

“The fuckery,” Lindsey was saying. It was quite some fuckery indeed. Not that the sight of a torn ribcage particularly troubled Eris, nor the sight of a Dumpster and a good chunk of the sidewalk decorated with guts. But he could agree with Lindsey’s judgment. It is probably wise to get used to agreeing with her. She will expect it, once I woo her, Eris thought. Of course, Eris had dated a hellhound before, like most archers, but a werewolf alpha was a different kind of fletching altogether. I think I might be looking forward to agreeing with her, Eris thought.

A pigeon landed next to Eris, interrupting the newly found agreeable state of the archer’s mind. The pigeon’s pink claws curled around the iron banister, and he looked at the archer with hungry bird eyes and made a pigeon noise while the alpha bitch discussed the bloody fuckery with the medical examiner who was poking and prodding the corpse.

“I don’t have any food,” Eris told the pigeon.

The pigeon stared with his beady eyes and cooed.

“Seriously. I don’t. Go away. I’m perching here.” Eris shifted a bit and adjusted his grip on his bow.

The pigeon did not move. Eris’s bow hand was beginning to feel the tingling need for an arrow, no matter how scrawny the pigeon’s feathery ass was.

“Go. Away.” He was being nice, wasn’t he? Surely even a Fairview pigeon could appreciate that.

The pigeon was being stubborn, however. Down below, Lindsey was cursing some more before she told the medical examiner to let her know the moment the autopsy was done. Then, the alpha bitch pulled out her phone.

“You know, I don’t hate pigeons, but your kind really shouldn’t be all this territorial,” Eris said.

The pigeon cooed.

“Fucks and feathers,” the archer said. Below, Lindsey ended the call and walked away from the fuckery. “Looks like I’m getting coffee. So long, pigeon.”

Eris, rather than descending, went up. Archers like him had an easy way when it came to high ground, and their kind rarely fell, if ever. And Eris felt pretty sure he knew where Lindsey was headed.

The pigeon stared after him. Then, his territory successfully defended, he cooed once more.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter!