Once You Go Demon by Sean Michael #NewRelease #GayRomance #BDSM #DarkFantasy #PNR @seanmichael09 @changelingpress

Once You Go Demon (Once You Go Demon 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

There’s a shift of power happening in Hell, and nothing will ever be the same.

Kerr has been with High Demon Horatio’s household since his age of majority. A natural submissive pleasure demon, for the last seven years he has been untouched by his master Horatio and his job has morphed into a more managerial role. Still, it’s a shock when goons from Master Belial’s house arrive at his doorstep to inform him he’s been sold and his new master expects him to come immediately.

Lost by Horatio in a card game, Kerr finds himself in the Belial household, where Ceris, Master of the Harem, takes Kerr under his wing. Kerr is not only honored and used as he was made to be, but he is given a newly acquired demon, Harmony, as his own to train. The three pleasure demons have a rocky start, but they have all the time in Hell to figure out how to work together, and it isn’t long before they begin to care for one another.

Meanwhile, Belial has waited for thousands of years for Horatio to admit he’s actually a submissive. When it appears that’s never going to happen, Belial arranges for his best friend to lose a card game in which he’s offered himself as the prize. Horatio can’t believe Belial would do this for him, but the council puts their seal of approval on the bet, and he has no choice but to offer himself to Belial, who immediately gets to work convincing Horatio that he’ll be so much happier as Belial’s sub.

Will Kerr and Horatio find joy in their places in the Belial household? Only time will tell.

Publisher’s Note: The novel Once You Go Demon by Sean Michael was available briefly from another house.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Sean Michael

Kerr stared at the paper the incredibly well dressed goons at the door handed him.

Sold?

Him?

He’d been sold into Horatio Liverage’s house to act as the man’s submissive since he was of maturity, and now, after so long, Horatio had sold him without a word? Without a note?

Nonsense.

Utter nonsense.

“There must be a mistake.”

The goon pointed one clawed finger at the insignia at the bottom of the page. “What does that signify?”

“Horatio Liverage.” He couldn’t deny it was his master’s seal.

“Then there isn’t a mistake. Bring us Kerr, and we’ll be on our way.” The teeth on the guy doing the talking brooked no argument. Neither did the tufts of smoke coming out of Silent and Scary’s ears.

“I’m Kerr. I have to gather my things, make arrangements…” Right? Didn’t he get that much at least?

The lower demon looked at the contract again. “It doesn’t say anything about belongings here. Let’s go.”

“I have precious things that hold my family name, and it doesn’t say that I can’t bring them. I am not resisting, simply gathering my stuff.” He could bargain with the best of them. He knew he had to convince them, though, as either one of them could pick him up and toss him over a shoulder without even trying.

Henchman One turned to Henchman Two, who shrugged.

“Is your master here? He can decide.”

“He is not. He’s away. As such, I am second in charge of the household.” He held no illusions that he was beloved or even a lover, but he was well trusted with finances and with all aspects of Horatio’s life. “I shall return in moments.”

He began to pack — the stash of jewels he had been collecting for years, his few precious books, his favorite clothes, and the music and computer that were his. He grabbed his toiletries, the hologram of his sire and dam, and the fragile glass orb that throbbed with a sweet, gentle light.

Both goons were frowning when he came back, pushing the pallet of his things.

“We won’t be party to you stealing from your master.”

“I haven’t stolen a thing. These things are my own and now go with me to my new master.” Fuckers. Horatio might be able to sell him on a whim, but these were his possessions and they were going with him.

They looked at each other again, shrugged, and turned, heading down the walk toward the truck at the end of it. “We’re not toting anything,” the talker called back over his shoulder.

“Not yet,” Kerr muttered.

He wasn’t some pointless goon. He was a highly trained, highly useful sexual submissive and house servant. Soon he would find a place with whomever the fuck the asshole prick that never made love to him anyway, dickhead, had sold his papers to, and then this mouth breather would do what Kerr said.

The goon opened the back door and just stood there, watching him putting his things in. “You’re riding back there, too.”

“Thank you so much.” He rolled his eyes, pushed his hair behind his ears, and climbed in, telling himself that he wasn’t hurt, that he was nothing but property, that he shouldn’t cry. One day, that might even work.

The door closed with a loud clang, leaving him in the dark, the engine starting up moments later. The truck lurched forward, sending him falling onto his ass.

He did cry then, silently, heartbroken. He’d lost his home, his job, his master, and no one had so much as warned him. Someone had written up that paperwork, someone had made the arrangements, and someone had thrown him away.

He couldn’t believe Horatio had done this to him, and without any warning at all, not a word to him.

The truck stopped abruptly, the brakes squeaking loudly. The door opened again, the dull grey sky seeming bright after the darkness of the truck.

Two little slaves popped up into the back and began grabbing his stuff.

He lifted his chin and firmed his lips. He was well trained, valuable. Special in his own right. Men begged to be wealthy enough to own him.

“Come, come,” murmured one boy, motioning for him to get down from the truck and follow. He couldn’t see the two goons. “You’re going to be in the salle, honored one. Your groom is Ceris, and he is the Salle Master.”

Finally, someone realized how important he was, what his stature was, even if he was a slave. He followed the lad through a side door and along a winding hall of stone. This place was much brighter than his mast — than his former master’s, more marble than rock on the columns and floors, white and light blue shot through with silver and gold.

When they arrived at the harem, the whole place still felt luxurious and gilded, as if the master lived back here as well as the front of the house. Well, his new master was very rich, there was no denying that.

A huge bald man stood as he walked in, bowing to him solemnly. “Honored one. I am Ceris, your groom. Boy, put the things in the gold room, then call for tea.”

The lad who’d guided him here bowed and went running with Kerr’s things, deeper into the harem.

“Welcome to Lord Belial’s harem. We were very excited to learn he won you and that you would be joining us.”

Lord Belial? Bel? Horatio had sold him to his best friend? Seriously?

“Thank you for your welcome.” He bowed automatically, his training taking over immediately.

“Tea is coming. After that, I imagine you’d like a bath. Perhaps something light to eat.”

Ceris was a handsome demon. The bald head exposed the little horns completely, and they glowed in the light. His bare chest was beautifully muscled, the gauzy pants exposing strong legs and hinting at a heavy cock. There was a heavy spiky gold tattoo covering Ceris’ ridged belly, marking him as Master Bel’s, Kerr was sure. Marked, but lovely.

“I… Yes, of course.” He was developing the world’s worst headache.

A lad, different than the first two, he thought, came in with a tray holding a teapot and two teacups. He left them on a low table, bowed deeply.

“Thank you, Totz. You can go.”

The boy did, hurrying off like he had somewhere to be.

“Please. Sit.” Ceris waved toward the benches that surrounded the table.

“Thank you, Ceris.” He and Ceris were equals, and he refused to treat the man with less respect than he deserved. “I was not aware I was to be transferred. Not until the papers arrived at the door.”

Transferred. Traded. Discarded.

“That’s unfortunate. Were you able to collect all your things?” Ceris asked, pouring out the tea.

“I brought the things that were special that I could carry. What will my duties be here? In my former home, I acted as valet and head of household — finances, staff management, that sort of thing.”

Ceris shot him a confused look. “I was led to believe you were a trained submissive, honored one.”

“Yes, I was. My former master chose not to use me in that regard.” Not for many years and not often when he had.

“Perhaps that’s why he wagered you in the game of chance he played with our master last night.” Ceris leaned forward and spoke quietly, confidentially. “He’s still here, sleeping it off. It got very loud and much was imbibed. I’m very sorry for the way it happened, but maybe it’s for the better. There is no where else in all of Hell that I would rather be.”

“I will thrive wherever they wish me to be.” He hoped. He had no choice.

Ceris looked him up and down, gaze almost like a physical touch. “I’m sure you will.”

 

More from Sean at Changeling Press…

Writing under S. Michael for Het Ménage and Sean for signature M/M titles, Sean Michael leads a classic double life.

Often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice,” Sean Michael spends days surfing, smutting, organizing an immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs.

While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and perusing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to “Chicago.”

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? Sean’ll stick with writing stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

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

Ashes (Blood Moon MC 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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

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

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Ashlynn Monroe

Ashes

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

“Hey! Ashes.”

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

Vivian

“Vivian.”

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

“Incoming.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Vitals?” asked Dr. Blair.

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

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

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

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

 

More from Ashlynn at Changeling Press …

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

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

 

 

 

Dragons Wild by Willa Okati #PNR #UrbanFantasy #GayRomance #interraciallove #NewRelease #boxset @willaokati @changelingpress

Dragons Wild (Duet)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

There’s an old curse that goes “May you live in interesting times…”

Georgina’s Dragon: Gina may be a superhero, but all she really wants is to settle down to a normal life. And please, no spandex or comic book aliases. Too bad fate’s got other plans for her. Flaming hot plans. Like, an actual dragon, loose in her city. Gina’s no damsel in distress, but she knows she needs help. And the help she finds is hotter than the dragon — the sorcerer Dakarai and a zoologist named Randall. As if saving the city from a dragon wasn’t enough, now she’s got two hot men falling in love with her — and each other. She’s still drawing the line at spandex.

Wild Hunt: Delaney, a Celtic fusion musician, has spent his life creating love songs and erotic ballads with a driving rock beat. Then he meets Robbie and finds himself caught up in the whirlwind of a Wild Hunt. Feral, enticing Robbie captures Delaney’s heart, kindles his curiosity, burns him alive with passion, and draws him unwillingly into danger. The bindings and piercings that decorate Robbie’s skin are meant to keep him from betraying the secret that could save both their lives and win their freedom. Delaney’s determined to keep his man, and he’ll do what it takes to save him — even if it means sacrificing everything else.

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Willa Okati
Excerpt from Wild Hunt

Delaney’s guitar beat a thump-thump-thump tattoo on his back as he toiled uphill, toward the summit where he could look down and see the cellar. One of the oldest venue stickers, crumbled away in places, tickled his nape. He shrugged irritably and hitched his case higher on his shoulder.

“I have some aloe,” Black-Eyed Susan said, her sudden presence making Delaney jump. She had quite the way of sneaking up on a guy, didn’t she? “Well. I know where an aloe plant is. They won’t notice if I break off a stem. Probably.”

“What?” Puzzled, Delaney waited for Hugh to join them and reclaim his lady. Not that he thought Black-Eyed Susan would go along with anything she hadn’t chosen for herself. She reminded him of a maple sapling, small and thin, but with roots that stretched as deep as a thousand-year-old oak.

The flash of an eye through dark gold hair obscuring a man’s face. A double row of brass rings laced through with black suede, a false corset on a man’s firm back. Bared teeth, white and sharp.

“Are you all right?” Black-Eyed Susan stood on tiptoe to peer at him.

“Yes.” Delaney tightened a fist around his guitar case’s strap. He tried a fake smile. “I had too much to drink and went a little crazy. It won’t happen again. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it. Maybe going back to the cellar to practice isn’t such a good idea. I mean, memories and all?”

Delaney thought, for an uncharitable second, that he liked Black-Eyed Susan better when she was drunk, and knew he preferred her when she had eyes only for Hugh. “There’s nowhere else to practice,” he pointed out. True enough; all the good grottos and groves and niches had already been claimed by the time he and his had stumbled ragtag out into the morning. “Don’t worry about me.”

“What he said.” Hugh finally reached them. He playfully batted Black-Eyed Susan’s shoulders with the smooth flat of his bodhran. “C’mon, lass. You promised to dance as long as my wrist action holds out.”

Tam, forever Delaney’s darker shadow walking silently by his side, covered her mouth but wasn’t able to hide her smirk at the innuendo.

“That’s good,” Delaney said, the joke a welcome relief. It felt good to laugh. “You don’t even have to think about them anymore, do you?”

“Funny.” Not in the least bit insulted, Hugh rumpled Delaney’s hair and then Tam’s, bound so tightly to her head as to be immovable as a skullcap of dark glass. “We’re going to check around later. See if there was anything besides whiskey in the jar last night.”

“Hugh…”

“I know, I know. But you’re too out of it for me to be comfortable, so humor me, okay?”

Delaney couldn’t argue with that, not without ingratitude fit to shame a thief. “I keep remembering things. Not what happened. I don’t think.” He chafed his forearms, a little chilly despite the heat of the summer sun rising toward noon height. “More like dreams. Maybe. Crazy stuff. They’re throwing me off my game.”

He walked ahead of the trio before they could press him on that and stopped at the top of the hill. Below him, the cellar pit opened like a mouth in the earth, the rough-hewn stones its teeth and the heavy-hanging pall of last night’s smoke its breath. No one had been back to clean up. The ashes and embers of the fire made an ugly black smear in the middle, with cigarette butts and detritus littered about like random snow.

“Real nice.” Hugh caught up and pulled a face at the mess.

Delaney tried to lighten the faltering mood. “At least I’m not the only one who got too buzzed to behave.” He knew it was a mistake the moment he’d said the words. Words had power; any musician knew that. “Hugh.”

Hugh rubbed his jaw. “It’s in the past. Leave it there. We’ve got the place all to ourselves, anyway. That’s something.”

 

Get more books from Willa at Changeling Press…

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

 

 

Born an Empty Soul by M.D. Stewart #PNR #UrbanFantasy #NewRelease #Rockstar #Vampires @changelingpress

Born an Empty Soul (Paranormal B&B 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press

Cover Artist: Angela Knight

 

Killian: I’m a well known singer in a famous indie band, but I’ve been alone for a century, living off others’ pain — until I meet my mates at a concert. Now I’ll have to do everything I can to convince them they are mine, or I’ll die.

Laura: Born and raised in Prenter’s Bottom, North Carolina, I watched the town wage war on homosexuality. As a straight white female, I’ve never been affected by their hatred — until I meet Killian. Now I’ll stand against the entire town — and my husband — to save him.

Barclay: I was raised in a strict religious household by emotionally detached parents. I thought being gay was a sin, until one night of shared passion with Killian and my wife. Now I’m struggling with my sexuality. I’m not sure I can go against the town even to save Killian — and my marriage.

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 M.D. Stewart

Killian

The sensation of crashing back into my body forced me to sit up and take a deep breath. I gasped and tried to slow down my jolting heart. It wasn’t unusual for me to suddenly return to my body once I’d fed. But this… This time it had been almost violent.

I threw back the covers and swung my bare legs to the floor, letting the cold hardwood hit my feet, grounding me. I had been on the mortal plane for generations, but I’m not human. Not completely anyway. I survive by feeding off others. Yeah, I know, it sounds parasitic. Which I guess is accurate.

I moved from the bed and crossed the room to the pack of cigarettes lying on the desk. Nasty habit, smoking — one I didn’t need or particularly like. Since it couldn’t kill me, I used it to bring me back to full awareness after I returned from my astral travels. The scent of sulfur almost overpowered the smell of lit tobacco, and I inhaled the menthol deep into my lungs. Sitting on the edge of the dresser, I took a few more drags of the cigarette before I reached over to turn on the lamp.

Even though I didn’t need the light to see, it showed that my red nail polish was starting to chip. Bollocks. I shrugged and took another inhale of the acrid smoke and held it in while I tried to remember every moment of this last feeding. But my thoughts always strayed back to my first memories of him.

It had been close to a year since I walked through a portal and spied the gorgeous man standing outside a large house. I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve seen many good-looking humans, but something about him drew me. The connection was instant, and I flew toward him, unable to stop the need in my soul to touch him.

Though he wore a suit, I could see the outline of his muscular form. His hair wasn’t red or brown, but a perfect mixture of the two. His full beard and intense caramel eyes begged me to touch him. And I wanted to. I was pure energy at that point, but once I brushed him, there was a rush through my soul like touching a live wire. I threw back my head and let myself feel his innermost needs. They filed against every jagged edge of my cursed being, smoothing me out and filling parts of me that were missing.

I attached to him, not wanting to let him go, picking up bits and pieces of his thoughts and memories. His energy felt so pure and substantial, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to disengage. I looked past him to the small outdoor building where two men kissed and ground against each another, and felt this man’s energy rise steadily. It was almost like taking a shot of tequila. I felt the warmth of his sexual desire spread through me. Awareness of his name seeped into my brain, along with the lust energy I siphoned. Barclay. I wanted to climb inside Barclay’s body and bathe in his essence, but my energy reserve was filling faster than I wanted. I knew I’d unlock when I was full, whether I wanted to or not.

The redhead we watched turned his green eyes toward us. Barclay’s instant shame at his voyeurism pushed me from his aura. The most interesting thing was that I wasn’t sent back to my corporeal form straight away. This hadn’t happened to me before, so I knew it was because he was mine.

Later, when my anima geminae, — soul twin — went back to the house to retrieve an item he’d forgotten, I felt the spike in his desire again and moved behind him to see the men he’d just been meeting with. They were having the hottest sex I’d seen in fucking decades. My energy reserves filled so quickly that I was jerked back to my body. The change was so abrupt that I felt like part of me had been ripped away and left with him. It hurt in so many ways.

I kept going back to him, though. Once I feed on someone, I usually go on to the next person. Sometimes I can stay with one person for multiple feedings, but only if they have the energy to spare.

 

Get more from M.D. Stewart at Changeling Press…

My vivid imagination combined with my love of reading and sci-fi. As a kid, I spent hours writing stories and poems while listening to my large collection of vinyl record albums.

My goal as an author is to tell stories that help others find enjoyment, or to escape life for a little while. I want the characters in my head to become as real to the reader as they are to me, and I hope they find another heart to settle into. I also want to interact with the people who read my books, because you never know where your next friend will come from.

Website: https://www.amazon.com/author/mdstewart

Blog: http://www.mdstew.art.blog

 

 

Trickster by Alice Gaines #PNR #RomCom #AlternateUniverse #NewRelease #scifi @changelingpress

Trickster (SexScape 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

One night, after a particularly frustrating loss at her favorite game, SexScape, Grace finds herself whooshed away into a cottage belonging to one of SexScape’s most infuriating characters — King Trickster. Only in the flesh, the king isn’t a squat little guy zipping around the game board on a toy motorcycle. He’s full-sized and eager to show her all the delights SexScape has to offer. He even drives a great big hog of a bike. Now she has to figure out how to get past League rules so she can stick around.

Trickster can feel in his bones that Grace is meant to be his partner, but first he has to convince her that everything here — including the delicious sex — is real. Then, she’ll have to prove herself worthy of entry into The League. Will they live sexily ever after?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Alice Gaines

Grace pounded her fist onto the tabletop hard enough to make her electronic tablet dance. Only one more move, and she could have gained entrance into the Seraglio of Studs — a place where she could review an entire room of hot guys, all ready and eager to fuck her. In her imagination, of course. This was a game, after all.

She’d used her last move, damn it. She needed two more green tiles to finish, and a triangle of three of them sat right in the corner of the screen. Blinking at her. Trolling her, the little bastards.

She glanced at the clock. It read eleven twenty-three. She had work tomorrow and should have been in bed an hour ago if she wanted eight full hours of sleep. But she’d come so close in the game. She’d spent weeks on this level, 1023, and it was going to drive her fucking nuts if she didn’t win it. At least, she only had one life left before SexScape shut her down. Then, she’d have to go to bed, frustrated as all hell. She probably wouldn’t doze off for another hour.

She started up the level again, selected all the weapons she had — a Screaming-O bomb, a vibrator, and a Tube-O-Lube that could slide tiles around without using a move. Then, she hit “play.”

As the tiles dropped down, she scanned the landscape and found lots and lots of green. She ought to get enough of them to win the level easily. To be sure of success, she sat and stared at the screen to spot the best moves.

Whoever had invented SexScape might have spied on her nighttime fantasy life. The artwork included lots of phallic images against a colorful background. Seriously, lots of them. Some were symbolic, requiring a bit of imagination to interpret. Others directly resembled… well… penises, and very nicely shaped ones. All arranged around soft, green grass where one could presumably lie comfortably to enjoy the sweet ministrations of said rigid cocks. Too bad you didn’t find that in the real world. She sighed. Maybe inside the Seraglio of Studs, all that satisfaction really existed, if she ever got there. Or maybe the game would get more graphic so she could at least witness an animated woman enjoying herself.

She mentally calculated where the most green tiles lurked, set her Screaming-O bomb off right in the middle of the cluster, and blasted away. The little suckers vaporized, getting her a third of the way toward her goal. Yes, she’d get it this time, and then she’d be able to sleep. Maybe one of those beautiful cocks would visit her in a dream.

With her fingertip, she slid tiles around, and the green ones fell like snowflakes. She’d found her rhythm, success zinging through her. This was why she’d downloaded SexScape — the feeling she could conquer the world. That and the phallic symbols. Really, who had put this out on the Internet where kids could find it? From time to time, she glanced at the scoreboard to check on how many moves she had left. Ten, then seven, then five, then two. She hit the Tube-O-Lube so she could down another four tiles without the move counting.

Then, she’d hit the last move. She still had the vibrator and only two green tiles to go. Sweet. Those things were toast. After aiming carefully, she fired.

Then, he showed up. The little bastard on his motorcycle — a squat guy with a cape and crown. The game called him King Trickster. She called him King Chaos because he’d ruined more levels for her than she could count. Sure enough, he zipped around the screen, scattering the green tiles to the corners where she’d never get them. At times like this, she could swear she heard him laugh. And he’d ruined everything… again!

“Gah,” she shouted as she gave the tabletop more punishment. “I don’t believe it.”

“You take this too seriously, don’t you think?” a male voice said.

She jumped nearly a foot. “Who are you?”

Only, no one was there. She glanced all around but found nothing but her apartment. The voice had come from right next to her. Or rather, above her. No, more like all around her, as if it lived in the air.

“Okay, now I’m really going nuts,” she said. “Making up voices.”

“You didn’t make me up. You heard me with your own ears,” the voice said.

Still no one there. She sat without moving for several seconds. Total silence answered. No footsteps. No one else even breathing. She could ask the guy to show himself, but did she really want to see him? Or did she want to grab her phone and call the police.

“Here, I’ll do it for you,” he said.

Her tablet lit up, more brightly than usual. And pieces started moving without her touching the board. The green tiles all disappeared from the display, and her score totaled up at the top. She’d not only finished the level, but she’d scored three stars. Or someone had.

“There,” the voice said. “SexScape is all yours.”

Suddenly, darkness swamped her. But she didn’t only lose her vision. She also couldn’t feel anything. She was just floating, as though she’d fallen into one of those sensory deprivation tanks, or at least the way she’d always imagined them. Too fucking weird. Was this the entrance to the Seraglio? Surely, she wasn’t supposed to go through it for real. It was supposed to live in her tablet.

“Don’t worry,” the voice said. “I have you.”

That was supposed to be reassuring? Some disembodied voice shows up in her living room, throws her into nothingness, and then tells her not to worry.

“Who in hell are you?” she asked. “And where am I?”

“As you guessed, this is the tunnel, the entrance to my world. We’re almost there.”

 

Get more from Alice at Changeling Press…

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.

 

 

Intrigue Me by Lacee Hightower #BDSM #RomanceBooks #erotic @LaceeHightower @evernightpub

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Intrigue Me (Tangled Pleasures)

An Erotic Romance Novel by Lacee Hightower

Publisher:  Evernight Publishing

Release Date:  June 11, 2019

 

Keywords:  MF, BDSM, Contemporary, Romance, HEA

WarningThis title contains explicit sex scenes, BDSM, and anal sex

 

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What’s a person to do when they discover everything they’ve believed is nothing but lies?

I grew up wealthy, a spoiled rich kid some would say, blessed with a natural athletic physique and erotic good looks that could get me into the panties of just about any girl I set my mind to.0

1I wanted … what I wanted.

And that meant one thing: the beautiful brunette from study hall—but she left me high and dry.

Today, I have a heart made of stone.  I’m angry, a professed lifelong bachelor, and a sexual sadist.

My soul is a cold river.

Eight years later, she’s back in my life and holding secrets that are ruthless, unforgiveable.

I want to punish her, make her cry, watch her suffer.  I want to hate her for what she’s done.

But I want my hands on her.

Mine.  All mine.

I simply want … Ava Montgomery.

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EXCERPT

 I ached for him with such a depth that it was a visceral kind of pain. I wanted his hands on me, touching me everywhere, taking me to that place I’d fantasized about for years.

“It’s your decision, doll.”

“Are you going to tear up my butt? Leave bloody marks on my back? Ruin my nipples? Are you…” My voice faded into silence as I stared at his focused expression that was so sure, so certain, his eyes that sent shimmers down my spine, his body that made me cave with pleasure every time it came near me. Heat flowed through my veins. “Yes. God, yes. I want to know everything. I want you to…”

Before I finished the words that were caught in my throat, his lips were on mine, crushing his mouth against me with a scorching kiss that felt like he was ravenous. His hands twisted fiercely through my hair, my body arching into him as he licked into me, purging deep, kissing me for long minutes like he wanted me more than any one thing in his existence.

I wanted this so badly that it hurt.

His lips fell to the sweet spot just underneath my ear. “You wouldn’t happen to still have that blindfold by any chance?”

Another whimper rose up my throat as I collapsed into his chest, turning to soft liquid and ceding in submission.

Of course, I still had the blindfold. I’d stared at it a dozen times. Fantasized about what it would feel like being bound, in the dark, his hands on me, oblivious to his next move, and if all my daydreams were a reality … or a fool’s paradise.

“Yes,” I breathed, captivated.

“Grab it, kitten. And follow me.”

Blistering heat flooded my core as he trailed kisses across my neck.

“And, Ava,” he added in a hard tone, “before the night ends, my marks will be all over you.”

 

Buy Links:

Evernight:  https://www.evernightpublishing.com/intrigue-me-by-lacee-hightower/

Amazon:  https://amazon.com/dp/B07SSYJTQK

Books2read(Universal link):  https://books2read.com/u/bQ6qAd

About the Author:

Lacee Hightower is an American writer and romance novelist, referring to her style as contemporary romance with a nice big pinch of kink.  Living in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, she describes herself as a foodie that can’t cook, a large lover of fashion and shoes, and an enormous hopeless romantic.  Since she was old enough to know what the word meant, she loved the whole concept of romance and happy endings. Even though she has always enjoyed writing, life got in the way and she never really thought of pursuing it seriously until she decided to write her first book after both her children were grown in 2017.  Now with a nice glass of wine in hand, or not, she is learning to love bringing the characters in her head to life on paper for those who enjoy peeking into another world.

 

Social Media Links:

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 Twitter:   Twitter

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Website:   laceehightower.com

BookBub:   Bookbub

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Open by Elyzabeth M. VaLey #BDSM #NewRelease #RomanceBooks #eroticromance @ElyzabethVaLey @evernightpub

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One day she’d be his.

Almost a decade ago, Marcus Grimes worked as a bodyguard to a man who didn’t deserve the woman he’d had. When she finally left, Marcus vowed to eventually find her and make her his.

The time is now.

Marcus runs into Gabi at a BDSM club, indulging in a different partner every week but never really exploring beyond the mere superficial. She doesn’t remember him, and he convinces her to give him a chance.

All she has to do is open.
After leaving an abusive relationship, Gabi moved cities and reinvented herself. Now, she’s confident and capable of playing with any Dom she sees fit without compromising herself or her emotions.

Until she meets Marcus Grimes.

There is something familiar about him, which should have stopped her, but instead spurs her on, and before she realizes it, Marcus is not only opening her body to his exploration, he’s also delving into her heart.

However, when their mutual past comes to light and everything she’s fought for during the last eight years is jeopardized, will she close herself off again or will she give love an opportunity?

Be Warned: BDSM, flogging, sex toys

Buy now:

Amazon  ~  Evernight  Smashwords  Kobo  Nook Bookstrand

 

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Excerpt:

Marcus stared at the old photograph on the computer screen. A lean man with cropped brown hair and a smug smile stood next to two women. One, young, with natural blonde hair and a million-dollar grin. She was dressed skimpily and clung to the man like a lifeline. Becky. She’d been drunk that day and wasn’t thoroughly aware of what was going on.  After the raid, he’d heard she’d been sent to rehab several states away, but he wasn’t sure what had become of her. On the other side of the man, was a tall woman with a cute, reddish-gold bob. She was too thin and wore a short jean skirt and a crop top. The man held her wrist possessively. The smile on her lips was forced, and her eyes were downcast as if she were afraid to look up.

Gabi.

Marcus had taken the photograph himself, one month before she walked out on Antonio. By that time, he had already decided to do something to help her get out of there.

Her appearance had changed in the last eight years. Her features had softened. She’d gained weight, become curvier, gentler. Sexier. She’d allowed her hair to grow back to its natural color, a rich brown, and her eyes were vivid, sparkling with a desire to fight he’d rarely seen back then. Her nose piercing was gone, and he’d noticed she’d modified the tattoos on her back, but Gabi’s essence hadn’t changed. She was strong, had always been, or else she wouldn’t have withstood Antonio’s abuse. All she had needed back then was a little push to rediscover how wonderful she truly was. Now, she knew it, but she lived on the surface, afraid to dig deeper. He’d change that soon enough. Taking his phone, he reread her text message.

Good night, Sir.

Simple, yet full of meaning. There’d been hesitation on her part, but she’d taken the plunge. She was curious to see if he could deliver what he’d promised. He would. And when he did, he’d make sure she never called another man Sir.

Available at:

Amazon
Evernight

Smashwords
Kobo
Nook
Bookstrand

  

About Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Elyzabeth blogger image

Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after.  From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.

When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.

Follow her at:

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