Tag Archives: Dark Fantasy

NEW RELEASE: Arcane Heart (Paperback) by Angela Knight #darkfantasy #shapeshifters @AngelaKnight

Posted on by

The wildest passion has claws.

When a pair of cops with magical abilities become the target of a hate group, they must unravel the plot against them before it costs them their lives — and love.

Deputy Erica Harris is a witch who can see the magical auras of those around her, a talent which helps her determine when someone intends to commit a violent crime. Her partner, Deputy Jake Nolan, has a psychic link with an African lion that allows him to manifest the animal’s powers.

But it’s tough to serve and protect when demagogues stoke public fear of you. As the two cops fight to unravel a politically motivated web of hate and deceit, Erica and Jake are targeted by a magical assassin hired by the plotters.

While dodging murder attempts, they begin to fall in love. But as Jake’s desire makes his inner lion more possessive, his self-control erodes. Can they afford to take a chance on love when so many lives hang in the balance?

Get the paperback at Amazon

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Angela Knight

It was sheer, stupid impulse, and she knew better. But when Deputy Erica Harris’s gaze fell on the Potions sign, she whipped her patrol car into the nearest empty parking space. For a moment she sat there, listening to the cooling engine tick and staring at the nighttime crowd streaming past her cruiser. “You really are an idiot.”

Shaking her head, she picked up her radio’s handset mic and clicked the button to call dispatch. “Laurel County, Alpha 22, going 10-8 at Potions.”

“10-4, Alpha 22.” The dispatcher sounded bored. No surprise; it had been a slow night.

So now Jake knows where I am. Question is, will he show up?

Yeah, Potions was Jake Nolan’s favorite restaurant, and she hadn’t heard him go 10-8 — the Laurel County police code for “out of service” — to take a dinner break. That didn’t mean he’d take one now and join her.

So go for it. Call the man and ask him to meet you…

Yeah, no. Much as she wanted to see him again, only a masochistic twit would want another ride on the Nolan merry-go-round. The last time had damn near destroyed her.

Yet here she was, masochistic and twitty, with the need she’d felt for months threatening to overwhelm her sense of self-preservation.

Screw it. If he shows, he shows. If he doesn’t, I’m still hungry. Erica got out, a spring breeze sighing cool against her cheeks. The Friday evening crowd surged around her, heading in and out of the bars and restaurants along Faraday Square. Her stomach growled, and she headed up the sidewalk toward Potions. She’d been too busy working a traffic accident to grab dinner. It was eight o’clock now, and she craved the greasy goodness of a cheeseburger combo.

Almost as much as contact with Jake Nolan. Her two Mideast tours as a member of his Arcane Corps team had turned the man into an addiction. Hunting terrorist sorcerers together built emotional connections that were hard to break.

The thought of the war made her automatically check the crowd, though she shouldn’t have to worry about terrorists in Laurel County, South Carolina. Still, last year’s attack by the polar bear Feral and his witch partner proved even Laurelton wasn’t immune to psychos. The Faraday Square Massacre had occurred months before Erica had joined the department, but even she could tell the whole community still suffered the aftereffects.

Breathing in to center herself, she opened her awareness to her Talent. Most Arcanists had to close their eyes to see the arcane energies surrounding all living things, but Erica was much more sensitive.

Suddenly those around her wore glowing overlays of healthy blue and green, though splashes of red here and there indicated pain — headaches, feet hurting from pinching high heels. That poor bastard on the right probably had a bleeding ulcer; that shade of red wasn’t right for cancer.

All pretty standard. She started to close her Talent down…

A block ahead, the crowd parted, revealing a tall man just as white light exploded across his aura like a bomb blast.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their 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 LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. 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.

SPOTLIGHT: Driven to the Limit by Alice Gaines #DarkFantasy #Shapeshifters @AliceGaines @changelingpress

Posted on by

Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Renee George
Genres/Themes: Second Chance Romance, Dark Fantasy, Shapeshifters

Get it Now at Changeling Press
Preorder at Online Retailers for March 18th

After rehab, Lauren King returns to the only home she has… a rock star’s compound everyone calls The Pit. She also returns to her only friend… an antique German motorcycle she’s nicknamed Jake.

Little does she know that the cycles Klaus Mannhof made have the ability to shift into human men. Mannhof designed Jake especially for Lauren. Using his special brand of magic, Jake’s going to teach her to love him — and to love herself as well.

Praise for Driven to the Limit (Mannhof 2)

“A surprisingly poignant story about what happens when people lose themselves and get involved with the wrong people….Alice Gaines has written a wonderful addition to her series about Klaus Mannhof and his creations and I can’t wait to read more books in this series!”— 4.5 from Kerin, TwoLips Reviews


“I am not walking, but running to get the first one to read. I loved how different this story was from the usual. The author took a woman that was kind of broken and gave her a man that showed her that she was worth so much more than what she thought she was. It was very well written and I look forward to reading more by this author.”— Nicole Harvey, ParaNormalRomance.org

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alice Gaines
An Authorized Excerpt

After rehab, Lauren King went right back into The Pit.

Kid Dagger’s ranch and recording compound had a huge main house, three guest cottages, a recording studio, tennis courts, a state-of-the-art gym, and an Olympic-sized swimming pool. But everyone who worked there called it The Pit. The nickname fit Dagger’s personality, which on a good day bordered on psychotic. Bad days didn’t bear thinking about.

Still, Lauren had called the place home for over ten years. Her job was here. Frankly, she had nowhere else to go.

As soon as she dropped her suitcase in her room, she went out to her only safe place — the small garage behind the larger one where Dagger kept his collectible cars.

She flicked on the light and looked at the closest thing she had for a friend — the antique German motorcycle. The Mannhof. “Hi, Jake.”

The bike never answered, of course. Still, she felt a link to it. The Mannhof resisted all of Dagger’s attempts to control it, something she’d never managed.

She walked to the bike and ran a hand over the leather seat. “What’s a nice machine like you doing in a place like this?”

“You decided to come back.”

Dagger’s voice. She turned and found him standing the doorway. “Did I have any choice?”

“We all have choices.” He dangled a baggie with a quarter of an inch of white powder in it. “Want some?”

She stared at him. Only Dagger would offer cocaine to someone just back from rehab. “I gave up poison for Lent.”

Anger flashed in his small, brown eyes for a minute, and then he gave her one of his phony smiles. “Okay, then, how about a quick fuck?”

“Like I said. I gave up poison for Lent.”

“Your loss.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest and leaned against the doorframe. Without the elaborate stage make-up and the costume that gave him a huge crotch bulge, Dagger, whose real name was Craig, looked like everyone’s little brother’s creepy friend. The one who kept trying to set puppies’ tails on fire. Somehow, millions of girls found him sexy. Lauren had once, but then she’d gotten to know him. She’d also seen him flipped out on various substances. Someday, he’d hurt someone — badly.

He stared at her for a minute, as if expecting her to change her mind and jump his bones. Finally, he pushed away from the wall. “Get back to work. Media bookings went to hell while you were gone.”

She sighed. “In a few minutes.”

“You going to stay out here with that hunk of junk?”

“It’s one of the finest motorcycles ever built. You paid half-a-mil for it.”

“It doesn’t run.”

True, the Mannhof had refused to start ever since the auction house had delivered it. No mechanic had ever managed to fix it, either. Hopelessly broken, just like herself. No wonder they’d become friends.

“Junk.” Dagger waved a hand at the bike. “Someday, I’m going to melt it down into a paperweight.”

“Have I told you lately that you suck?”

“Yeah, fuck you too.” He turned and left the garage.

She looked down at the bike, her friend, Jake. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m around, no one’s going to turn you into a paperweight.”

She walked to the door, switched off the light, and turned to go into the house.

Why do you put up with him?

Huh? “Who said that?”

She flipped the switch again and looked around. The room was empty except for herself and the bike. Come to think of it, the words had formed in her brain rather than coming in through her ears.

I’m glad you’re home, Schatzie. I missed you.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the Mannhof. “Did you say that?”

The air shifted around the bike, seeming to turn liquid. Currents shimmered around the tires, the gas tank, the handlebars. She rubbed her eyes, but the image didn’t get any clearer.

Holy shit. Was this some kind of withdrawal-induced hallucination? She hadn’t even done that in rehab. Rough nights, yes. Air you could swim through, no.

She backed up until her rump hit the wall and stood there on weakening knees. In the middle of the room, a light radiated from the Mannhof, making the bike’s image even harder to see. She squinted, staring into the waves of light and air around Jake. Something was happening in there. Some kind of changes taking place. The tires seemed to melt and change color from rubber to a pale tone that looked for all the world like human flesh.

Oh, no. Too weird. Too fucking weird. Some kind of Invasion of the Body Snatchers in reverse. After all she’d gone through, her mind had snapped. The counselors should have warned her.

Now useless, her legs gave way, and she slid down the wall until she sat on her butt, hugging herself.

The changes in the middle of the room continued. The form shrunk, curling into a ball of what looked like human flesh. A person. A man, lying on the floor in a fetal position without a stitch of clothing on his body. The glow disappeared, and the air went clear again, leaving only the man — powerful legs pulled up against his body with the ankles crossed. An adult-sized human baby.

A voice whimpered in fear. Her own voice. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her throat constricted. If she could get any strength in her legs, she could get up and run like hell. Still, as spooky as the whole experience was, it was pretty cool in a Hollywood, special effects way.

The person moved finally, sitting up. Buck naked, the man had pale skin and platinum hair that hung around his face to the jaw line. His eyes opened, revealing irises so crystal blue they almost seemed transparent. He smiled, his face taking on an innocent look of delight, like a baby who’d just learned to smile. He took a deep breath, or rather, the air around him went into his chest in a whoosh. Then, he opened his mouth and a sound came out — the deep roar of a motorcycle engine revving.

The sound plastered her against the wall, stealing her own breath. She sat there paralyzed for a moment, staring at him. He made no move toward her but gave her the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen on a man’s face.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “Who are you?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today bestselling author Alice Gaines has published several sensuous and erotic works. She prefers stories that stretch the imagination, highlighting the power of love and sex. Alice has a Ph.D. in psychology from U. C. Berkeley and lives in Oakland, California, with her collection of orchids and her pet corn snake, Casper.

BOOK REVIEW: Demon Kept (Resurrection Chronicles) by MJ Haag #darkfantasy #apocalypse #bookreview @AuthorMJHaag

Posted on by

Sometimes the past won’t stay dead.

Shelby’s suffered at the hands of her husband for too long. Rather than endure another beating, she risks everything and escapes with the creatures who brought about the downfall of the world.

The fey aren’t as horrible as her husband made them out to be. Sure they can kill with a flick of their fingers, but they’re also loyal, built like gods, and craving female affection. With the fey, Shelby might finally find a sense of safety and even a second chance at learning what real love looks like.

But it’ll take more than one fey to keep her safe from a past that isn’t yet ready to be history.

Add to Goodreads

MY REVIEW – 5 stars

Another wonderful addition to the series. And I’m so glad Shelby wasn’t punished for the sins of her awful husband. It warmed my heart for her to get a happily-ever-after.

**SPOILER* ALERT*

I hate spoilers, but it’s really hard to review this book without one. Major plot point most won’t see coming.

This is the only book in this series that’s a reverse harem, and I LOVED IT !! It breaks my heart this series is nearly over. I would love to see another pairing of a human woman and two fae.

This book has all the feels. Heartbreak. Hope. Happiness.

I think it may be my new favorite in this series.

*Disclaimer: I purchased a copy of this book from Amazon. The author did not request a review. The review above is only my opinion.

BOOK REVIEW: Dark Fire (Fireblood Dragon) by Ruby Dixon #darkfantasy #PNR #bookreview

Posted on by

Azar has taken over Fort Dallas. He rules with complete authority, and everyone bows down to him.

Everyone except one woman. Melina, the fort’s medic. No matter what he offers, she refuses to give in. A good man would know to stop asking. Unfortunately for Melina, Azar is not a good man.

ADD TO GOODREADS

MY REVIEW – 5 stars

Looking for an anti-hero? Azar is certainly no one’s idea of Prince Charming. He’s been hated by the other characters in every book since we first met him.

I loved getting to see why he reacted to things the way he did. It was nice seeing Melina humanize him, make him want to be a better person.

Once I started reading this book, I didn’t want to put it down. It was simply amazing. Yes, it does touch on topics that might be difficult for some people to read, but I wouldn’t exactly call it a “dark romance”. So if you’re used to the super dark Mafia books and such, this one won’t come close to that level of darkness. For me, it was more gray than pitch black.

Melina is fierce, determined, and such a strong character. She also has the softest heart, only wanting what’s best for others. In that instance, I was happy she had Azar. He was set on her taking better care of herself, and Melina didn’t seem to have that ability. She’d give and give until she had nothing left, then try to give some more.

Loved seeing more of the babies and the other couples!

I won’t give anything away, but the ending is… wow! Such a major surprise. I don’t know if this will be the last book, but I hope not. I’d love to see what happens when the other single dragons find their mates, because this book was a major game changer.

*Disclaimer: I purchased a copy of this book from Amazon. The author did not request a review. The review above is only my opinion.

PREORDER: One Owner Lady Driven by Alice Gaines #DarkFantasy #shapeshifters #SciFiRomance @AliceGaines @changelingpress

Posted on by

Claire Wilcox is in for the ride of her life…

Why would a normally sane woman pay a million dollars for a motorcycle? Hard-driving CEO Claire Wilcox has found the bike of her dreams — a 1957 Mannhof four-cylinder touring motorcycle.

Little does she know that the cycle’s designer made each of these beauties for one person only. The Mannhof is sentient — and he has the ability to take on human form. He was designed with purpose, and he’s on a mission — he’s here to heal Claire’s wounded soul. If she’ll let him.

Get it NOW at Changeling Press

Preorder for March 11th at your favorite retailer:

https://books2read.com/LadyDriven

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alice Gaines
An Authorized Excerpt

There it was — the machine of her dreams. Claire looked down at the auction catalogue in her lap. The picture of a 1957 Mannhof four-cylinder touring motorcycle looked back at her. The photo didn’t do the bike justice. Sleek and muscular, the real thing reeked of power and sex. Right down to the naked man painted on the gas tank.

“Okay, go circulate,” Claire said to Ted. “See if you can hear any buzz from the other bidders.”

Her assistant looked around. “You can already hear the buzz. The whole room’s full of it.”

“A classic Mannhof goes on sale, maybe, once a decade. I’m going to have that bike if I have to kill someone to get it.”

Ted’s eyes widened. “If anyone but you said that, I’d think it was a joke.”

“Just circulate, will you? I need to know what I’m up against.”

Ted rose and walked toward the back of the crowd, while the auctioneer approached the podium and tapped the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, next we have item number 346. Page fifty of your catalogues. A hand-made Mannhof motorcycle, vintage 1957.”

Ted had been right about the buzz. It grew until it was clearly audible. Hell, she could feel it in her bones. Mannhofs came along so seldom that most of the general public had never heard of them. One had caused a stir eleven years ago when a rock star bought one for half-a-million dollars. That one didn’t compare to this beauty.

“This classic has only had one owner since it was built,” the auctioneer continued.

The owner must have had an appreciation for the male body, or the man on the fuel tank made no sense. Completely nude, he reclined with his torso propped up on one elbow. He was a double entendre of the most wicked kind — a play on a woman taking so much strength between her legs. Mannhof couldn’t have known it, but he’d built that bike for her.

“Excellent maintenance and low mileage make this a spectacular find,” the auctioneer said. “We’ll start the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars.”

Claire didn’t raise her paddle. The auction would take some time to play out, and there was no point showing her interest yet. If the rest knew the CEO of Consolidated Industries International wanted the Mannhof, they’d bid her up just for the excitement. No, she’d wait until the serious bids started coming.

One hundred, one fifty, two hundred, two twenty-five — clearly this would top the half million Kid Dagger had paid eleven years ago. She could wait.

Ted returned and sat beside her. “You were right about this thing. People are going nuts over it.”

“Did you hear anything interesting?”

“Mostly chatter. There’s one guy back there talking into a cell phone in Japanese.”

“Damn it. Matsumoto.”

“Nippon Manufacturing Matsumoto?”

“Do you know another Matsumoto with the money to spend on a Mannhof?”

Ted whistled softly between his teeth. “And you just beat him out of the Swiss contract.”

“This way if he gets the Mannhof, he gets a treasure and revenge.”

“He knows you want the cycle?” Ted asked.

“Matsumoto knows everything he needs to know.”

“The guy talking to him isn’t Japanese.” Ted twisted in his seat to glance toward the back of the room.

“Don’t look at him,” Claire said. “Pretend you didn’t see anything.”

Ted turned back around. The bidding had gone over three hundred thousand dollars and was heading toward four. Eventually, she’d have to show her hand, and then, they’d get an idea how serious her rival was in taking the Mannhof from her.

Matsumoto couldn’t have her bike. No straight male would ride something with a naked man on it. He wouldn’t dare paint over the picture, as that would lower the value. He’d stick the Mannhof in a museum somewhere, and it would never see the open road. The engine would sit silent. Such fine machinery deserved to run, to prove itself with all its power. Between her legs, with the leather of the seat thrumming against her thighs.

Heat crept up her cheeks, and a familiar breathlessness settled in her chest. Excitement. The same thrill she got negotiating a deal. All power was sexual at its core, and anyone who claimed otherwise was either a liar or a fool. She didn’t suffer either gladly, and she wouldn’t tolerate lies or foolishness in herself.

People made fun of her aloofness — called her an ice queen. None of them understood the raw sensuality of power. The naked man on the Mannhof’s tank did. He belonged to her, and she’d have him.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today bestselling author Alice Gaines has published several sensuous and erotic works. She prefers stories that stretch the imagination, highlighting the power of love and sex. Alice has a Ph.D. in psychology from U. C. Berkeley and lives in Oakland, California, with her collection of orchids and her pet corn snake, Casper.

SPOTLIGHT: The Devil’s Demigod by Alexa Piper #LGBTQ #darkfantasy #BDSM @prowlingpiper @changelingpress

Posted on by

The Devil’s Demigod by Alexa Piper

Published by Changeling Press

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Not long ago, necromancer Lionel didn’t know who his parents were or why they abandoned him. He’s starting to think that ignorance was bliss as the fact he has a death goddess for a mother is becoming increasingly hard to ignore. That his father is a murderous magic user comes as an even darker revelation.

Lucifer is well aware that his boyfriend and powerful necromancer Lionel is not the easiest person to love, but Lucifer is the Devil, and he doesn’t lie, not even to himself. He’ll take Lionel any way he can get him, and Lucifer will do whatever it takes to keep Lionel safe. It’s turning into a fulltime occupation with Lionel’s penchant for attracting murderous individuals.

Lionel will have to come to grips with his own still unfamiliar demigod magic before the past can catch up with him, but he also needs to figure out if and how he can love the Devil. Lucifer cannot wait for his long game to tame his stubborn necromancer to bear fruit, but before the Devil can savor his prize, he might have to rescue Lionel yet again, this time from getting lost in the labyrinth of the past.

Available TODAY at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

Lucifer

I stood in the too-high snow outside of the dragon mother’s house, leaning on the shovel and staring at my phone.

Sleeping in your arms was nice, Nelly had texted. Well, if it really was the PTSD getting him to soften up finally, I approved.

I love holding you, babe, I texted back. I’ll do it whenever you need me to.

He didn’t immediately respond to that, so I cleared away some snow, which was a damn workout. Across the street, one of the dragon mother’s neighbors was watching me unsubtly from a window. I ran a gloved hand through my hair and hoped it made them gasp.

After five minutes, Nelly hadn’t texted back, and I leaned the shovel against the dragon mother’s house.

“You are not done,” she said from where she looked down on me from a window on the second floor.

“Tiamat, I am the Devil, and I am taking a break,” I said, trying to use lack of candor to circumvent the truth.

“Dodging your chores is how even the Devil gets a permanent bad-hair-day curse, Lucy.”

Well, to hell went the circumnavigation of truth. “Nelly didn’t text me back, so I need to go check on him. I’ll get my chores done, Tiamat.”

“Ah, the tribulations of young love. You’ll need the good hair, then,” she said and closed the window back up again. What I wouldn’t give to know what was going on in her head sometimes. And I was more than my perfect hair. I had character. And he loved my wings.

I teleported to the station, to right outside Nelly’s office, which was basically a broom closet. The door was closed, and I heard wet noises from inside that made me burst straight in.

Marc Deacon, instead of doing what I knew he wanted to with my boyfriend, was sitting in a cheap folding chair and crying. Good for him. I’d have given him a genuine reason for tears if I’d found him fondling Nelly, like a missing tongue or twisted testicles.

“What? I didn’t think you’d be the gloating type,” the unskilled necromancer said.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning Lionel picked you.” He shook his head and rubbed at his swollen eyes. “He’s too good for you. I don’t care if you turn my bones to jelly, but Lionel is smart and shy and sexy and really funny when he opens up, and you don’t deserve to use him for your own amusement and cheat on him while you do it.” He looked back up at me, but even my hellpoodle had a more intimidating glare. “You could have anyone, I’m sure. Several anyones. Let him go, please. He just — he just deserves something real, and I can give that to him. I want to.”

When had my charm ever failed me so massively? With Marc Deacon, I understood, a little, because he wanted my boyfriend, and badly. Still, he didn’t even have a little crush on me, hadn’t even fantasized a little about a threesome? And Christine was a mystery of a different order. I had to find out about whether she liked poker or not already.

“You have no idea what Nelly wants and definitely don’t know what he needs. You’d do better finding another man to pine after,” I told Marc Deacon and closed the door behind me. Necromancers. They all came with issues, apparently.

Before I could look around and locate my once again errant boyfriend, I felt the sharp sting of one of the defense spells built into his necklace activate. It was close, so I ran rather than teleported, and good thing, because it allowed me to feel the magic that was being hurled at him, even as I cracked open the office door behind which I could sense the necklace’s protective spell flare bright and hot.

This was siphon magic. It wasn’t so common that I knew it well, although I’d felt Sephy use it when I’d visited her and Hades.

This siphon magic was something else entirely, and just from the strength of it, from the elegance with which the siphon wove its magic, from the sheer, irrefutable force of it, I could tell the immensity of power the person who’d made it had access to. And since I had no doubt at all that the maker of this siphon was Ariadne, I knew where Nelly got his brutish power. Once he learned to really own and use it, refine it rather than just go smash with it, my boyfriend would be magnificent, something to behold. I’d take him even if he weren’t. But the more powerful he was, the more I would flaunt him, of course.

I pulled the office door open all the way. Several equally concerning things made up the scene ahead of me, and all of it was so dramatically crafted by the terrors of the real world that it should have been a painting set in oil rather than happening.

If reality were a painting, it would be called something to invoke hubris, like The Reclamation of the Prodigal Son, because the man on my left, beautiful like Nelly was, but darker in every aspect of his features and with cruel lines around his mouth and eyes, was without a doubt the man who wanted to be a bull, the beast trapped in a labyrinth by the goddess he had loved or lured into loving him.

I could guess what the Minotaur wanted with Nelly.

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 or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Author Website | Facebook | Instagram

NEW RELEASE: Unsalvageable by J. Hali Steele #erotica #darkfantasy #gay @jhalisteele

Posted on by

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Vampire Erotica novella. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of paranormal heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

Vampires are real! Sten Majkovic has lived longer than he ever dreamed possible. Among his kind it isn’t easy having a slim, lithe build, but it does have advantages in the human world. He welcomes attention of men who appreciate his appearance. Their mistake is expecting to hold the upper hand. None ever do. And not a single one of them realizes his rabid need for blood — until it’s too late…

Drew Riles’ life is shitty. Mid-fifties, passed over for promotion, he struggles to stay afloat until, nearly beaten to death, he’s rescued by a monster. Unsure how to survive, he flounders in unfamiliar territory. Anger soon replaces what little fear the beast allows as Drew comprehends the fiend has no intention of releasing him. Both emotions quickly evaporate as he watches the bloodthirsty creature use men in a way… God, I want to be those men!

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 J. Hali Steele

“Good evening, Drew.”

He knows my name!

This can’t be happening. None of this is real. A nightmare brought on by the beating he’d sustained. Drew barely remembered how he’d ended up in the filthy alley, let alone wherever he was now. But he recalled watching a man commit murder by tearing another’s throat out.

Drugged. The creep from the bar must have drugged me and coerced me outside.

His watch was gone. A gift from his mother after graduating university. Feeling his neck, Drew discovered the chain missing, as well. My chain! A present from…

Should have taken time to have that clasp replaced.

He wondered how long he’d been out. Exploring the back of his head with shaky fingers, he discovered the scab he touched wasn’t painful. His nose had been broken, but it didn’t hurt when he located a bump along the bridge. Unkempt hair fell onto his forehead, his chin was covered with more than normal stubble and bristled beneath his fingertips.

How many days had he been butt ass naked in a stranger’s bed? A stranger who acted like…

“Just over a week. And the word you’re searching for is vampire.”

Drew sat up carefully, anticipated pain in his abdomen where the robber had repeatedly kicked him. Barely ached. “What?”

Faint light filtered through blinds. Not enough to make out the speaker’s features. “This will help.” A lamp came on beside the bed, but there was no sound to indicate the use of a remote, and the creature didn’t appear to have moved from his seat.

“What did you say?”

“Vampire. And just over a week.”

“I can’t be away from work that long. I’ll lose my job.”

“It’s losing your job that concerns you?”

“Yes. No. Who the hell are you?” Vampire.

“Call me Sten. And your boss does not expect you back until next month.”

“A month?”

“Predictable timeframe for a human who has sustained injuries such as yours.”

Drew peered around in search of an escape route. “Goddamn it, what did you tell them?”

“Your office was informed you had been in an auto accident.”

“You lied?”

“I didn’t say anything. My staff, which includes doctors, handles such problems.”

“I take it this isn’t the first time you kidnapped a battered stranger.”

“Actually, it is. Any others I allowed to live were collected and tended to.”

“You didn’t kill them?”

“No.” Lips shifted into a stern slash. “And I wouldn’t call it kidnapping. You do recall asking me to save your life?”

“I expected to wake up in a hospital.”

“Instead, you woke up in my bed, with your secret safe.”

“Secret?”

“We’ll talk of that another time.” Sten leaned forward. “What do you really want to know, Drew?”

“Nothing.” Drew took note Sten wore a partially open black shirt revealing an intricately designed tattoo, most of which remained hidden. Thin leather strips tied close around his throat held several trinkets. One had small, unidentifiable stones while a longer, thicker chain held a ring.

Sten wasn’t a big man. Nowhere near Drew’s height or weight. Impossible to be what he claimed. Those monsters are huge. Short to medium height, with walnut hued skin, he looked no older than thirty, maybe thirty-five. Slender, but if Drew had to guess, lean muscle likely covered his body. “You have short hair.” And a neatly trimmed beard. Both were inky black. God, his mouth is… What the fuck am I thinking! Senseless thoughts. “You’re short.”

“Ridiculous.” Hollow laughter ricocheted from walls whose color matched a magnificent sunset. “You’ve read too many romance novels.”

“I don’t read those kinds of books.”

“Then why the preconceived ideas regarding vampire appearance?”

“I just thought, well, I expected a beast like you would be larger than life.” I watched you kill a man!

“Beast. I see.” Sten stood and walked to a window. “Evening approaches.” He twisted a rod and the blinds opened to allow fading sunlight into the space. “Does your information predict how long before I burst into flames if the sun’s rays touch me?” The man had moved fluidly past the bed, yet each step appeared measured as if a wild animal reigned in his body, ready to break free and pounce.

“I don’t…” Drew stared at expensively shod feet. They had made no noise on the highly polished wood floors gleaming under admitted sunlight. Bet those shoes cost a pretty penny. He took note of pants as black as the shirt. A perfectly tailored fit, the slacks clung to narrow hips that Drew had trouble pulling his eyes away from.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of… Well, she can’t do those things but she wishes she could!

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

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

PREORDER: Nobody Rides for Free by Sara Jay #erotica #darkfantasy #multiplepartners @SaraJaysErotica

Posted on by

In a world where Fae desires overrule those of mere humans, Sinn is consumed with passion for her soulmate, Daka. Though he refuses to break the Fae law that prevents them from having sex without the queen’s permission, Sinn finds a way to sate her sexual hunger — with the assistance of three bikers.

But nobody rides for free…

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Monster Erotica Story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of paranormal heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

Preorder for February 11, 2022

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sara Jay’s world is filled with fantasy creatures, mythology, supernatural romance and saucy tales. If it’s smoking hot, and has fur, fangs or wings, it’s Sara’s thing. She enjoys reading and crafting stories that will keep you reading for steamy, sexy and fascinating reasons! Sara hails from the Midwest where she lives with her rugged husband, teenager and a house full of shapeshifting cats.

Book Blitz: The Devil’s Boyfriend by Alexa Piper #LGBTQ #darkfantasy @prowlingpiper @GoIndiMarketing @changelingpress

Posted on by

Title: The Devil’s Boyfriend

Series: Hellbound 2

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: February 4

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 153 pages

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Mystery, Thriller/Suspense, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Gay, Shapeshifters, Magical Creatures

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Lionel, necromancer and police consultant, finds himself closer to the Devil than he ever wanted to be. But even for a necromancer, life goes on, and murder happens. The next crime scene is just around the corner, and Lionel will do his job… ideally without Lucifer looking over his shoulder.

After a traumatic experience, Lucifer knows he has to protect his necromancer, mostly from the other man’s own stubbornness and ignorance. Lionel is not quite as human as he likes to think, and to Lucifer’s great annoyance, Lionel hasn’t given up on his bad habit of running into situations without thinking.

Lionel doesn’t know how he feels about the Devil, and he doesn’t know what he wants in his life. Lucifer knows what Lionel needs, but getting the necromancer to accept that is the difficult part. And of course, there is murder happening in town, and it is not the boring human-on-human kind of violence. This time around, it looks like immortals are involved. Solving the case will require Lionel to accept who he really is while Lucifer wants his boyfriend to embrace who he truly can be. Lives may depend on it.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

The Devil’s body on top of mine, his mouth stealing my breath, his woodfire smoke-and-spices scent all around me — that was not something I ever thought I’d get used to. Yet here I was, Lionel Hawkes, consultant for Brunswick PD and accomplished necromancer, my cock rubbing against Lucifer’s belly and his own erection as he was doing his damnedest to kiss me senseless. My lips were already tender, but the soft lighting dipped his bedroom in an amber glow, and that made me care less about the state of my lips somehow… as long as he kept coming back for more kisses. I wanted to bury my fingers in his baby-cat hair, but Lucifer had my wrists crossed over my head, his hand holding me there. I could struggle, but he wouldn’t let me go. I’d tried that before, and he’d kindly informed me that I got to move my hands when he wanted me to. He fucking owned me.

I bucked up to get more friction and heard his deep voice break into a chuckle that made my entire body tremble.

“Sweet Nelly, is there something that you want from me?” he said with laughter smoothing around his words like warmth around a fire.

That fucking asshole. He knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to come. He’d put me on my back in his too-large and weirdly round bed with the super-soft cotton sheets about an hour ago, and then he’d started with kisses, with touch, with friction that was just never enough.

“I have work in the morning. I just want to come and go to sleep,” I said. I’d been off for three weeks after that thing with the crazed serial killer, a.k.a. No Longer Quite So Sexy Mitch, who’d drugged and abducted me. But tomorrow was my first day back. “And you seem to have one hand free, so if you would, Lucy?” I looked down to my leaking cock. Damn, my belly was slick from our combined precum.

I wiggled under him, feeling the soft sheets I was lying on. I tried looking away as if this whole lovemaking thing bored me. Lucifer had drawn the curtains, but I didn’t really think they were thick enough to hide what he was doing to me. Obscure it, yes, but if anyone with a daring heart got to his wilderness of a home on this cold-ass November night and peeked up, they’d know exactly what was going on in the Devil’s bed. I’d complained about it two weeks ago. Lucifer had smirked and said, <em>If anyone does dare to come here, they should be rewarded by getting a glimpse of your face, writhing in ecstasy because you have my cock deep inside you. It will serve them well to think of it while I punish them for the transgression</em>. So typical — boisterous Devil-speak.

And that was just so Lucifer, but since the room was partially lit, I saw him pull back and look down at me as if he were a cat and I a canary, caught between his claws with my wings splayed. He wanted to fucking torture me, I could see that in his sapphire eyes. Not actual torture, but he wanted me in a writhing puddle of need, so desperate I begged for his cock.

Heavens knew he’d fucking gotten me into that state before.

Before Lucifer could make another noise, before I could try to get a wrist free to jack myself after all, my phone rang. Lucifer’s eyes darkened. “I told you to turn that off,” he said. He didn’t raise his voice. Lucifer didn’t have to. He was the fucking Devil. His voice carried.

“And I told you I need to be reachable,” I said as the <em>Jaws</em> theme music grew louder. “Let me up, I need to go answer that.”

Of course, the Devil his own damn self didn’t move a fraction of an inch. “You do not need to be reachable when you are in my bed, when I have you and am in the middle of figuring out how exactly I will make you feel me — what exactly I will make you feel once my cock is buried deep in you.”

Oh, damn his stupid sex talk. It got me in entirely the wrong mindset to achieve my current objective — answering the phone. And I would bet a spell he’d stolen that line from one of the countless romance novels he read. There was currently a pile of them near his reading armchair by the window wall. He got up to two or three a day sometimes. That one weekend, when I’d told him I just needed quiet and hot cocoa after escaping the fucking basement a psycho killer had dragged me in to kill me, Lucifer had actually complied. He’d made me sit on the couch in his rich-people house where he let me stream just whatever sappy thing I wanted to watch without comment from him. In fact, Lucifer had refilled my mug with hot cocoa whenever it was empty, and sat there as close as I would allow it like some classical statue, reading through a stack of those damn novels. He had taken a reading break every couple of hours, and his breaks had only consisted of getting me off. If I allowed it.

I had allowed it. “You just read about that in your damn book?” I had asked after he was done with one of his breaks, my naked back pressed against his chest, my spent cock still in his sticky hand.

He bit my earlobe before he answered. “The things I want to do to you, Nelly… They aren’t in any of those books.”

Purchase

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

Meet 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 or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | BookBub

Giveaway

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

a Rafflecopter giveaway
https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Blog Button 2

Now in Paperback: Wolf Warriors by Marteeka Karland #DarkFantasy #PNR #RomanticSuspense @marteekakarland

Posted on by

Future Earth. The privileged few build their wealth on the backs of slaves who are neither man nor beast, but both. Those with gold to spare spend it at the Arena… betting on the Warrior Shifters is the pastime of the elite.

Claimed by the Guardian Wolf: Miranda is the daughter of one of the cruelest Gladiator owners. Still her heart remains pure. The last thing she bargained for was catching the eye of the fiercest warrior of all — Brandwulfr.

To Brandwulfr, Miranda is a way out of this godforsaken realm, a way to get home. He doesn’t need to be attracted to the silly little human. Yet something in her touch awakens the wolf within him…

Taken by the Wolf King: Caught between deadly politics and a man bent on claiming her, all Elsa can afford to focus on is saving her children — at any cost.

Tortured and maddened by pain, Leif vows revenge on the woman he would have made his queen. Will his hatred of what she was forced to do build a wall between them that can never be torn down?

Warning: Adult Content including graphic violence, scientific experiments, alien abduction, and torture, may be triggers for some readers.

Publisher’s Note: Wolf Warriors Duet contains the previously published novels Claimed by the Guardian Wolf and Taken by the Wolf King. These books have been extensively edited for this volume.

Get the Paperback at Amazon

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2022 Marteeka Karland
Excerpt from Claimed by the Guardian Wolf

Leather encased Brandwulfr’s body like a lover’s jealous embrace. Perhaps it would be truer to say it suffocated his frame like a master assassin, killing him by inches as the humans could never do. Thick, padded leather underneath steel chain mail protected his torso while knee-high boots with greaves and bracers protected his limbs. All of it in jet black lined with gold threads and trims. A slave had nothing, but he’d managed to secure the best protection he could. His master had seen to the style, wanting his star fighter to look the part.

He could hear the wagers being made, the comments and speculation as people around him looked to profit from his death. Could the Barbarian Wolf survive the Gladiator Warriors?

Gladiator Warriors. Brandwulfr nearly choked on the title. He was stronger than all of them — the humans, that is. Had he not defeated their best men? Even with the damned collar around his throat that kept him from shifting into his wolf form, he’d not merely defeated every man they’d set against him, he’d massacred them in a flurry of sword and shield. If he hadn’t been prevented from shifting to his battle wolf form by the cursed collar all shifters wore, he’d slaughter as many as he could before they killed him.

This was no battle, it was a game. A needless waste of sacred life. A game he played with deadly skill. As if the very Earth agreed with him, the ground beneath his feet seemed to rumble ominously. Not an overt movement, but the slightest tremor. It was likely the humans around him would never feel it. To him, it was a clear warning, heightening his already elevated senses for the coming battle.

As he entered the arena, a roar of cheers erupted over the nearly deafening music. The booming blast assaulted his ears but didn’t shake his pre-battle calm. With his mind firmly on the task at hand, Brandwulfr knelt to sift the sands through his fingers. Up close the grains were coarse, rough, and soaked in the blood of men. Like his soul.

A shot rang out, signaling the start of the match. Brandwulfr exploded into action, charging into the middle of the pack in a leaping sprint. The glory hound went down with one deadly arched stroke to the neck. Blood sprayed in a ruby shower, droplets wetting those nearby before they realized what had happened. Never stopping his forward momentum, Brandwulfr plunged his sword into the chest of his second target in a thrust of pure power. The force made his weapon stick in the man’s rib, but Brandwulfr yanked it free, shoving the man off with his foot.

Swinging his sword in a wide arc, Brandwulfr slashed out, using his shield to block a blow from one sword while the momentum from his own swing blocked the other, pushing the aggressive little human backward. Brandwulfr fought with intricate movements, a dangerous dance fueled by instinct and pride. Pride in who he was, who his people were. His feet moved in a choreographed ballet of death, leading his opponents to their doom with a carnivorous kind of beauty.

The second swordsman regained his balance, charging with a brutal yell. Engaging in the fight again, he rained down two-handed blows on Brandwulfr. It was a valiant try to drive Brandwulfr back while allowing his partner time to recover. With a devastating swipe of his shield, Brandwulfr sliced the man’s throat all the way to the spine. Blood sprayed over Brandwulfr’s face and chest like a fountain, the coppery smell washing over him along with the liquid, but he merely swiped at it with his forearm to clear his eyes. His vision was already red, his sole focus on one thing. Victory.

The remaining experienced fighter backed away. Too bad — it was already too late. Swords clashed and sang with each bone-shattering blow, the crowd’s roar growing louder with each strike. The other man dropped his shoulder as he swung his sword in an arching slice, intent on taking out Brandwulfr’s sword arm. Dodging the blow was child’s play. Brandwulfr plunged his own sword into the human’s side as the man completed his downward blow. Blood poured from the wound like a thick crimson waterfall. Brandwulfr twisted his sword before pulling it free of the other man’s body. The fallen warrior screamed in agony, his face contorting with it. Brandwulfr had no pity.

The remaining man huddled against the wall, begging for his life.

“Pick up your sword and face me. Die with honor,” Brandwulfr bit out, giving the man room to maneuver if he chose.

“Please, I’m begging you! I have a wife! Children!”

Brandwulfr tilted his head. “You’re not a slave then?”

“No! I was promised a quick payday. All I had to do was show up and they’d pay me once you were dead! I was never supposed to do anything! I had no desire to harm you!” The man whimpered, clasping his hands in front of him.

“You… volunteered to be here?”

“I was never supposed to have to fight!”

This sniveling weakling had actually thought to profit from Brandwulfr’s death? Idiot. Before the man could cover his head with his arms again, Brandwulfr struck, driving his sword into the neck of the still-whimpering man. Not so much a quick payday as it was a quick death. Far more merciful than the human swine deserved.

The crowd cheered, flash lenses twinkling like thousands of exploding stars all over the arena once again, the masses getting their snapshot of history, an immortal representation of the victorious gladiator as he spat on his last victim. It all sickened Brandwulfr.

As his keen wolf gaze roamed the stadium, he sought the man responsible for this mockery. Rudolph, the man who owned Brandwulfr along with roughly half the shifter slaves fighting this night. Rudolph stood on the balcony above the arena, the place of honor reserved for the sponsor of the games. He was the perfect target. Only about fifty meters or so. One true throw of his sword, straight through the neck…

Then a flash of gold caught Brandwulfr’s eye. A young woman approached Rudolph’s side, grasping his arm. She wore a cloak of midnight woven through with gold. A beseeching look graced her face, as if she were pleading with him for something. Probably wanting Rudolph to give him to her as a prize. Brandwulfr sneered. It wouldn’t be the first time a highborn lady had sought to know the pleasures he could offer.

The girl was passingly pretty. In another life, he would have enjoyed introducing her to the carnal side of sex. In this one, if she were related to Rudolph in any way, she would die by his hand.

Her hair was bound loosely at the back of her head in a thick knot of shining gold. Skin of milk white shone under the harsh lights of the stadium, encased in emerald silk beneath the cloak. She was too thin for Brandwulfr’s taste, though she had potential. A little fattening up would definitely do her good. As she spoke to Rudolph, ruby red lips seemed to beckon Brandwulfr to taste.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.