SPOTLIGHT: Trash & Treasure by Mikala Ash #futuristic #scifi #LGBTQ #multiplepartners #RomanceBooks @changelingpress

Spotlight: Trash & Treasure (Spaceport Multi-Author 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Award-winning reporter for the Adana Observer Holly Barberossa finds herself once again in her natural environment: hot water.

Antagonizing the Dollavera “brothers,” a family of clones who run the Amalgamated Spaceport Guild of Scavengers, with a series of damaging exposés was bound to drop her into a cauldron of trouble but when a dismembered body, an abused robot and a scared alien entity are thrown into the mix then Holly is really in the soup.

Then there’s Maxim Dollavera who, she hopes, is not like his “brothers.” A man with his smoldering good looks just can’t be a bad guy, can he? Trying for a surprise interview Holly walks in on him and his male lover, Felis Panthera, a randy Leonine with equally attractive attributes. Forget the story, she hopes there’s room for one more in Maxim’s erotic world.

But she can’t forget a story, that’s her problem, and her greatest strength. Will Maxim’s brothers allow Holly to walk all over them in the media without retribution? Will Maxim welcome her into his world when she is trying to destroy his brothers? And just who are the bad guys, really?

These and other questions boil over in Spaceport: Trash & Treasure, a Holly Barberossa erotic adventure.

 

99 cents TODAY at Changeling Press

 

Praise for Trash & Treasure

“I loved the futuristic and paranormal backdrop to this tale, which added to the fascination of the plot. I look forward to reading the other stories from a variety of different authors of the Spaceport series.”

4 Stars! — Tallyn Porter, JERR

“The addition of a good mystery and intrigue to the plot make Spaceport: Trash & Treasure a fine addition to the Spaceport series.”

4 Angels! — Hayley, Fallen Angels Reviews

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008, 2019 Mikala Ash

I need a beer.

With an emphatic click, Holly Barberossa snapped off her smartcam while K. Dollavera was still flapping his jaws, the bombastic Guild executive ever eager to have the last word. Asshole!

It had been a helluva day. She’d lost her cool and she knew it. Vinnie would gripe about it in the morning, give her the old lecture about getting more with sugar than… hell, she couldn’t remember how that homily ended even though she’d heard it a thousand times.

I need a beer.

The Haze was only ten minutes away. She could almost taste the amber fluid, not to mention the plate of ribs she’d have to go along with it. The image of her favorite meal, dripping with that mouth watering Altaran sauce the cook at the Haze used, filled her mind and worked its magic on her salivary glands. Her empty stomach gave a sustained and hopeful cheer.

She hadn’t stopped for lunch, running from one end of Adana to the other; interviewing idiots and assholes, fending off the groping hands of hopeful pedestrians trying to cop a feel, being kidnapped and fucking led around blindfolded by amateurs on the run (as if they really thought I couldn’t figure out where they took me, geeze! ), gassed by a flatulent Fedoran, given the cold shoulder by the fucking head of ‘Port Security (I’ll put her on a fucking spit and roast her slow), and to top it off that fucking asshole Dollavera trying to wheedle out of not spilling the beans about the gang war brewing right under his and his goddamn brothers’ fucking noses (brothers, there’s a misnomer for you, fucking brothers my ass, fucking clones).

Clones. She took a deep and sustained breath. Good looking clones, sexy clones who boiled her juices every time she was within ten meters of their athletic bulk. Bastards.

She ordered her thoughts and skipped through the interview with Riz Gitto, the retired head of ‘Port Security and CEO of Adana’s newest private security firm. She could tell he wanted her badly, his pale gray eyes undressing her six times during the five minutes she talked to him. He wasn’t bad looking for an old guy and would be a useful contact, so she’d fluttered her dark lashes back at him and deflected his request for a date with the usual stop kidding around, I’m working line and jumped into the interview with that asshole K. Dollavera. At least Riz hadn’t made a grab for her tits.

Exactly why she let Dollavera get under her skin she couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t just that he was a slimy asshole. No doubt it had something to do with the fact that she’d dated (a couple of times) his “brother” Zweep, the Sentient Resources Controller of the family monopoly, the Amalgamated Spaceport Guild of Scavengers. She’d dumped Zweep at the first inkling of his suspicious business dealings. No way could she compromise her journalistic standards by seeing the man at the center of what could be the biggest scandal in Adana history. The fact that she let him go not ten minutes after she met their “brother” Maxim might, she conceded, have had something more to do with it other than being a breathtaking coincidence.

Maxim, the New Year’s Eve hero who had risked his life to save others from a terrible disaster, was something special. There was a guy who knew how to boil the juices, and what made him yummier was that he didn’t even know he did it.

The thought of Maxim being caught up in a shady family business was giving her sleepless nights. He’d been away, supposedly scavenging, for the last month, more likely avoiding the hundreds of fans attracted to his celebrity, so she hadn’t been able to talk to him about it. Not that they were on speaking terms yet; he probably didn’t know she even existed.

I’ll have to change that little detail.

If nothing else, her publicly nailing his two brothers would bring her into his orbit soon enough. What worried her was that Maxim seemed smarter than his “brothers,” and even in the brief moments she saw them interact, they seemed to defer to him. Her worst fear was that he was actually in charge of the operation while posing as a loner, supposedly scavenging the asteroid belt for junk. It would be the perfect cover, playing the dirt smeared grunt collecting trash while secretly pulling the strings behind the ‘Port Authority.

There was a tug at her trouser leg. A grubby face with enormous eyes and a mess of yellow hair looked up and gave her a gap toothed smile.

“Hello, sweetie,” Holly said. “Got something for me?”

The little angel, one of Adana’s many corridor kids, nodded and cupped a tiny hand near her mouth. Holly knelt down beside her and turned her head, brushing aside her raven hair so the little girl could whisper in her ear.

Holly’s heart jumped at the message. “Thank you, sweetie,” she said. “How much?”

The girl put up three fingers, indicating there were two others involved in the chain of observers that had brought her this longed-for news. Holly dropped four credits into her small palm and was rewarded with openmouthed astonishment. She always paid more than the going rate. It guaranteed preferment in the Adana rumor mill.

So, Maxim Dollavera had returned. He was in customs at this very moment and if she hurried she’d catch him.

And then what? She bit her bottom lip and snapped shut her oversized equipment bag. I have no idea, but I’ll think of something. I always do.

 

More from Mikala at Changeling Press …

Aussie Mikala Ash lives a hectic double life, mild-mannered training & development consultant by day… wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. “For me, burning the candle at both ends is not such a terrible problem; I’m having too much fun!”

Catch up with Mikala on Facebook: www.facebook.com/mikala.ash#!/mikala.ash.9.

 

 

 

SPOTLIGHT: Security (Spaceport series) by Shelby Morgen #99cents #futuristic #PNR #shapeshifters

Spotlight: Security (Spaceport Multi-Author 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

A dark corner of a seedy bar on the edge of nowhere. A woman who’s seen too much. A man who moves through the shadows with the grace of a cat.

She’s on his tail, and he’s determined to find out why. Once he might have been flattered to have her checking out his ass. Now he knows women are dangerous. And far, far too expensive.

But Commander Kala Decoltéir always gets her man, and she wants the space pirate they call Dancer — no matter who — or what — he is. This time, Dancer has no escape.

Publisher’s Note: Spaceport is a multi-author shared universe that does not need to be read in order.

Get it TODAY for $0.99 at Changeling Press!

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2017 Shelby Morgen

“You look like something a drunken Kitali yarfed up.”

Desk Sergeant December Ramie held out a cup of coffee, which, from both color and experience, Kala knew would be exactly the way she liked it. “Thank you for that observation, Sergeant.” The coffee just might allow her to live through the coming interrogation.

“After an all night karaoke spree in Haze.”

Posol na khui.”

“Boss, how long have we worked together?”

“Five years, fourteen days, twelve minutes.”

December shook her head. “Gotta love that computer enhanced memory of yours. Five years, Commander. And in that time, how many days have you taken off?”

“Off?”

“R and R. Shore leave. Vacation. Personal and family leave. Anything.”

“I don’t have a family. Bio-genetically engineered soldier, remember?”

“You may be genetically enhanced, but you’re still Human.”

“I’m a cyborg. I require minimal maintenance from bio-engineering. I never miss my scheduled maintenance.”

“Scheduled maintenance. What are you, a freighter? You may be cybernetically enhanced, but you are not an android. You’re a woman. You’re so busy trying to keep this place from falling apart, you’re killing yourself. Look at you. You’re not sleeping, you’re living on caffeine and junk food, and you look like hell. You need some down time, Commander.”

Kala’s ocular implant went fuzzy, and she thumped the side of her head. “This place is falling apart. Been down to the Pits lately? Try a walk-about on Level 26. Make sure you go heavily armed. The best I can do is to try to keep the galactic refuse from overflowing into the public areas. Between Holly Barbaric stirring up trouble wherever she goes and the Dollavera brothers finding ways to exploit every disaster to their financial benefit, I’m expecting a riot any day now. I don’t have time for R and R, Sergeant. I’m trying to keep our little world from ending.”

“Thompson’s perfectly capable of covering for you for a few days, Commander.” Ramie held out a personal vid panel opened to a full color brochure. “You can afford one day off duty for a trip to a day spa. It won’t even take a day. One shift, even.”

Kala barely glanced at the brochure. “Thompson’s a good man, but he’s Human. There’s a reason the Adana Council recruited me for this office. Allied Planet Security is making it hard for honest businessmen to trade within AP space, let alone the not-so-honest ones. All the fringe planets and ports are getting inundated with displaced riff-raff. We’re getting hit harder than most, because we’re the closest port of call to the major trade routes with Old Earth. Things are going to get far, far worse around here before they get any better. If they ever get any better.”

“So you’re just going to push yourself till you fall apart? What will that accomplish?”

Well, it’ll get me out of here, Kala thought, but she didn’t say so out loud. She cataloged Ramie’s list of complaints, looking for an acceptable solution. “What about sex?”

Ramie nearly choked on her coffee. “What about sex?”

“If I promise to get myself laid, will that get you off my back?”

Ramie grinned, cat-like triumph stealing over her face. “I’m not sure sex qualifies as R and R, but it’s a compromise I can live with.”

Belatedly, Kala realized she’d been played. She sighed. She had four times normal Human strength, could calculate any math problem at the speed of a Human computer, and her bio-tech system implant allowed her body to repair itself from otherwise deadly wounds in battle, and yet she’d just been outmaneuvered by a single Human female. Again. “Fine. I’ll set about capturing a suitable male.”

She had the satisfaction of seeing Ramie’s eyes open wide in alarm. “Capturing? Commander, maybe we need to talk about Human mating rituals…”

It was Kala’s turn to grin. “Trust me. I know all I need to know about mating rituals. It’s been a while, but my memory’s good.” She downed her coffee and headed out for rounds, wondering how long it would take Ramie to figure out she’d been kidding.

Mostly…

 

Find more from Shelby at Changeling Press …

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

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

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

 

 

Night Critters by Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards #boxset #PNR #futuristic #RomCom #UrbanFantasy @changelingpress @Lena_Austin

Night Critters

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Sahara Kelly

 

Must Love Dogs: By the mid 21st century, the human population has been decimated, but some still scream over racial purity — and not just among humans. Not only is Roni not a pure werewolf, she’s a crossbreed Chuskie — offspring of a Siberian Husky and a Chihuahua. Corbin is Alpha and heir to Thornburn pack, the richest pack in three states. Who cares if he dates a were-dog? Their parents…

Faux Paws: Lucky Thornburn, a Faux Paws, a shifter-born who can’t shift, meets a fiery Goth half-angel named Charm who’s trouble on the wing. She wants to renovate her mother’s old house into a home for foster children, but Lucky’s cold-hearted brother JR wants the property for a shopping mall. Charm’s not going to give up, and Lucky’s coming right along with her…

Paws to Heal: Two were-dogs welcome the return of their former lover after being enemy packs for so long. Duke, Katriena, and Eduardo must pause to heal the breach and bring the were-canines and lupines together.

Bad Fur Day: Staci Thornburn is determined to get an interview with the new Chinese UNESCO Ambassador, but Jiao Long, a Foo Dog-Dragon cross, is more than a little irritated. It’s a good thing dragons are fireproof, because things are about to get hot!

Santa Paws: JR Thornton seeks redemption by dressing up in a Santa suit to deliver gifts to an orphanage, but the angry wood fairy guarding the house is more interested in blowing his head off. Phaedra’s determined to give JR a piece of her mind. So why does she want so badly to sit in Santa’s lap?

Publisher’s Note: Night Critters (Box Set) contains the previously released novellas Must Love Dogs, Faux Paws, Paws to Heal, Bad Fur Day, and Santa Paws.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

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Praise for Must Love Dogs “Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards have created a humorous canine version of Romeo & Juliet… The chemistry was perfectly blended; the characters were strong and overall helped create a marvelously written book.”

5 Angels! — NeNe, Fallen Angels Reviews
Praise for Faux Paws “Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards have produced another hilarious tale pairing unique critters together in a very enjoyable saga.”

4.5 Nymphs! — Chocolate Minx, Literary Nymphs
Praise for Paws to Heal “Paws to Heal is a glimpse into the history of the characters featured in the first book in the Night Critters series. In this installment, the fabulous Lena Austin delivers an erotic love scene hot enough to give you a Heat Stroke.”

5 Nymphs! — Chocolate Minx, Literary Nymphs
Praise for Bad Fur Day “The sex is good but the story was even better. You can always count on Austin and Richards for some “get me some iced tea, I’m on fire” sensuality.”

4 Tombstones! — Kate, Bitten by Books
Praise for Santa Paws “Lena Austin brings to life these two characters in her short story Santa Paws. Bringing Christmas to the readers and showing them that just about every evil deed can be turned to good, given the right incentive. Many readers will enjoy this short story that shows just what Christmas can be all about, at least to the magical creatures of the world.”

— Stacy Link, PNR Reviews

Switcher’s Rhapsody by Kate Steele #futuristic #ActionAdventure #scifi #aliens #alienencounters #LGBT #GayRomance #NewRelease @Kate27Steele @changelingpress

Switcher's Rhapsody

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

 

Tarl Mengs, navigator of the Starship Brizo, never expected his vacation would end with a near crash landing on a backwater planet like Peldar. Resigned to days of boredom while his shuttle is repaired, an unexpected meeting with a cute and sassy Adarian lands Mengs in a world of trouble. It seems Switcher has stolen a prize from a pack of poachers who will do anything to get it back.

Stranded and on the run, Mengs and Switcher face life threatening danger to save a species on the verge of extinction. And that’s the easy part. Who knew wrestling with a budding relationship would be even harder!

Publisher’s Note: Switcher’s Rhapsody takes place in the same world as Kate Steele’s Gimme Shelter (Set in Stone).

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

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or Pre-Order at retailers for August 23rd

   

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kate Steele

Mengs took another sip of his drink. The liquor was raw and burned its way down Mengs’ throat. Not exactly top-shelf stuff, it still managed to quench his thirst and complement the food, a local meat and root-vegetable dish he’d chosen for his evening meal. His expectations were again exceeded as the food turned out to be just as tasty as something Kyle, the Brizo’s chef and jack-of-all-trades, could cook up.

Upon emerging from Devenes’ front door earlier in the evening, Mengs had noted the increase of activity on the street. It seemed the town was nocturnal in nature. Storefronts down the way, including the game parlor, were lit up, and a lot more pedestrians were visible on the roadways.

The bar, Similfis, was filling up. The atmosphere was laid-back, the lighting mostly murky but brightened here and there by a few stray beams from overhead. The smell of food drifted in from the doorway to the kitchen located behind the bar. It was underscored by the tang of various liquors, the burn of some kind of organic substance being smoked and the subtle mix of natural musk and artificial fragrances emanating from the men and women who came to eat, drink and socialize.

Unhindered by the lack of bright light, Mengs kept careful watch on the action. So far it was peaceful, but when liquor and various beings mixed, trouble could be no further away than the use of one unfortunate word. Music played over a sometimes-scratchy sounding audio system. No live band here and no room for dancers. Similfis provided the basics. Food and drink, with the emphasis on drink. Anyone wanting other entertainment found it elsewhere.

As Mengs finished his meal and polished off his drink he noted one of the two bartenders headed in his direction. The man carried a bottle. The same one he’d poured Mengs’ drink from. When he reached the table, the man pulled out a chair. He tipped the bottle, refilled Mengs’ glass and set the bottle on the table.

Mengs took a sip of his newly poured drink. “Thanks.”

“Welcome. You’re new around here.”

Mengs set his glass down. “Yep.”

“Gulrian.”

“Yep.”

“Name?”

“Mengs.”

“Similfis.”

“Ah. Owner.”

“Yep.”

Mengs studied the man. The native peoples of Peldar were humanoid, or as close to human as made no difference. Similfis appeared to be somewhere in his mid-forties, a strong-built man with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes were brown, their expression shrewd. Mengs knew he was being sized up.

“Don’t say much, do you?” Similfis asked.

“I don’t know you.”

“Same here, so fair enough. I’d like to know why you came specifically to my place.”

“Recommendation from one of the Fratkin. Said it was a place where there’d be no trouble and I could leave in one piece.”

“Ah. Reputation is everything. I mean to keep mine.”

“I’ve no intention of interfering with that.”

“Happy to hear it. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks.”

A smile played on Mengs’ lips as he watched the man rise from his chair and walk away. He respected a being that took a hands-on approach to business. Similfis was a no-nonsense kinda guy who ran a tight ship. Reminded Mengs of his captain, Zen Ahbramez. Tough and dependable. Mengs leaned back in his chair and relaxed a bit more. Safe bet was nothing untoward would go down here this evening.

As Similfis rounded the end of the bar and took his place behind it, a slim figure ghosted in through the front entrance. Curiosity stirred and Mengs mused. Male? Female? The being kept mostly to the shadows with distance between itself and any other in the bar. Now and then, for only a second or two, it moved close to a patron whose attention was on their companions. He or she drifted in, then slipped away unnoticed.

At one point the being glided through a beam of light. Despite being somewhat hidden by a hood, Mengs caught a glimpse of a fine-boned face. His eyes widened. Male. Adarian. Though there were a few obvious off-worlders here, this was unexpected. What the hell was an Adarian doing on Peldar? Adar was across the galaxy and Adarians, unless they worked a job off-planet, were known for being somewhat insular. Mengs hadn’t noted any ships in orbit, and this young male was dressed like a native.

Though his curiosity was engaged, Mengs forced himself to relax and slump in his chair. If this male were anything like the Brizo’s second-in-command, Serk, he’d be ultra-sensitive to anyone paying him too much mind. Serk claimed his species began their evolution as predators in the jungles of Adar, and no matter how far they were now from their primitive roots, those predatory instincts had remained intact.

Sure enough, the Adarian melted into the shadows and halted his light-footed prowl. Mengs felt the weight of his regard for a brief moment before the Adarian turned away and left the way he came in. Quick, quiet and unremarked.

A slow smile curved Mengs’ lips. Pickpocket. He’d bet his last credit on it. The way the young man drifted from customer to customer, probably taking just a credit chip here and there, not enough to be missed — in, out and gone. Oh yeah. Mengs would bet anything the young Adarian would be counting his take later if he weren’t doing it already. And that thought stole Mengs’ amusement. Why was he here? Why so down-and-out he had to steal to get by?

It was a puzzle Mengs had no pieces he could use to solve. He found unsolvable puzzles annoying. If the opportunity presented itself he just might seek some answers.

 

More from Kate at Changeling Press …

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

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

Website: http://www.katesteele.com

 

 

Future, Betrayed by Jacey Holbrand and Elizbeth Monvey #scifi #NewRelease #Mpreg #GayRomance

Thank you for having us on your blog today! We’re so excited to share the release of the second book in our Project Mars series, Future, Betrayed. For a quick idea about the series, check out this trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HU_Gcf7c5Fs

A little more about the book

Book 2 – Future, Betrayed – Available August 1, 2019 – a Project Mars story – futuristic, sci-fi, romance series by best-selling authors Jacey Holbrand & Elizabeth Monvey | Genre: futuristic, sci-fi, Alternative (MM), MPREG, Romance | Heat Level: 3 | Word Count: 35,000 | ISBN: 978-0-3695-0008-3 | Editor: Karyn White | Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

 

Future, Betrayed-evernightbanner

Blurb

In the future, be careful who you trust.

Ben Stockton lives on a dying Earth. A poisoned atmosphere and fertility issues are a few reasons people flock to the Project Mars Lottery, hoping to win a chance to go to the Red Planet. When his husband, Dain, is targeted as a potential DNA donor, the once exciting prospect of starting over turns into a nightmare.

Forced to work for the governmental scientific agency, Sector, Dain is sent to Mars while Ben has to remain behind. Separated from each other, they try to cling to the memories of their love as well as the hope that one day they’ll be reunited.

But Sector has different plans for the couple. Unbeknownst to Ben, Sector has used him as a test subject in a desperate bid to cure the sterility problems facing the human race. Impregnated and left alone, Ben stumbles upon the underground resistance. It will take all his strength to find the love of his life before Dain is lost to him forever.

Be Warned: MPREG, m/m sex, anal sex, violence

 

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Buy Links

Evernight Publishing https://www.evernightpublishing.com/future-betrayed-by-jacey-holbrand-and-elizabeth-monvey/

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07VVGDL8V

Amazon AU https://www.amazon.com.au/Future-Betrayed-Project-Mars-Book-ebook/dp/B07VVGDL8V

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Future-Betrayed-Project-Mars-Book-ebook/dp/B07VVGDL8V

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07VVGDL8V

Apple Books https://books.apple.com/au/book/future-betrayed/id1475039191

Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/future-betrayed-jacey-holbrand/1132756129?ean=2940163295784

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/future-betrayed

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/951733

 

Future, Betrayed_Teaser 1

 

Author info

Jacey Holbrand believes life and love comes in all forms and should be celebrated. She’s committed to her muse and writing so she can share her stories with readers. Hot days. Sexy nights. Come play in her world. Jacey loves to hear from readers!

Blog/Website https://jaceyholbrand.wordpress.com/

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Jacey-Holbrand/e/B00OE91T62

Twitter https://twitter.com/JaceyHolbrand

YouTube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLT2vyJIHZb21jabd6EC6kA

Jacey Holbrand logo

 

Elizabeth Monvey is the pseudonym for a single mother from Los Angeles. She writes manlove stories, where the hero meets the man of his dreams because happily ever after is one of her favorite things.

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Monvey/e/B00NGB8FM0

Evernight Author Page https://www.evernightpublishing.com/elizabeth-monvey/

Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/ElizabethMonveyAuthor

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Troll’s Blog by Shelby Morgen #Futuristic #PNR #UrbanFantasy #BBW #interracial #NewRelease @changelingpress

Troll's Blog (Box Set) (Troll's Blog 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Renee George

 

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Welcome to Troll’s Blog.

So you want to know about Trolls. Well, the only thing I can tell you is about this Troll. I’m taller than most of you, stronger, faster, and I have wicked teeth. All perfectly straight, thanks to modern orthodontia, and very, very sharp.

If you’re a Troll, what better place to hang out than under a bridge, right? I mean really. What’s the use in being a Troll if you can’t catch a good laugh now and then? But if you’re a Cop, chances are you’re like genetically predisposed to mess with the Troll. Not a good move. Especially when the Troll has a thing for Cops. Especially tall, strong, hot bodied cops… Or at least one Cop in particular…

Oh. Sorry about the ads… we’re using a lot of bandwidth these days. Got to do something to stay on the grid.

Troll’s Blog includes: Troll Under the BridgeTroll in the ShadowsDen Mother, and Window Shopping.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Shelby Morgen

We’ve all heard the stories. The waves of mutations started with the Corporations screwing around with our genomes. We were all really hatched up in some Corp lab somewhere. Nothing natural about us at all.

Pretty farfetched, right?

Not really.

Oh, the Corps didn’t start this mess. Old Mother Nature did that herself. Geneticists call it Punctuated Equilibrium. We’re living proof that species don’t really evolve slowly over time. More like we run into an environmental brick wall and have to adapt or die out, so we adapt. Now. In like one generation. Which, while it scared the crap out of people for a while, is probably a good thing, because, like I said, bigger, faster, stronger… and smart enough to avoid the Corp scientists who wanted to play with our molecules.

By now you’re probably as bored as Mattie is, so let’s get to the good stuff.

My boys.

Five of ’em. Jinks, Felix, Tonk, Tony, and Sebastian. Long and lean and sleek as cats. Cause, well, they are cats. Not shapeshifters in the traditional sense. Gawd. Like there’s a tradition for shapeshifters. Anyway, Mattie called ’em Werecats. I’m not sure that’s the right term. They don’t shift from human to cat and back. They’re cats. They’re always cats. They shift from walking, talking, upright cats to… well, something you don’t wanna meet in a dark alley.

Come to think of it, you don’t wanna meet any of us in a dark alley.

Being as the world’s kinda falling apart at the moment, what with anarchy only one political fuck-up away, and what with me being a geneticist, as well as a Troll, you can see why the Corps thought I ought to come to work for them when I graduated. Berkeley thought I should stay there and teach. My mother thought I should find a nice young man and get married. Shrug. Moms.

I took the Corp job. Why? Not because I trust and admire their work, that’s for sure. No. I’d heard the rumors… we all had. I’m a curious sort. I wanted to know the truth about our genetics. Where better to go than the source to find out if the rumors were true?

Still, I was there, working with the best equipment in the world, in the most classified lab in the world, for almost a decade before I found the hidden lab.

I’d say the lab was in the basement, but the entire structure was subterranean. You know that old game they brought back for PS-X, Resident Evil 19 or something like that? With the underground labs and all the zombies? Well, I never found the zombies. That’s about the only thing I didn’t find, though.

I was having a hard week. Accidentally blew up the lab again, that sort of thing. But that’s nothing compared to the turn my life was about to take. Cause I just found the lower level. And these lab rats aren’t like any I’ve ever seen.

I got in pretty much by accident. Ran my security card through the access panel to the supply cabinet and entered my code wrong. I held down the last digit — a 9 — too long, and it repeated. I knew, in that same way you know the bacon’s going to burn before you get back to it, that I’d screwed up. Expected loud noises followed by security teams showing up.

Nothing.

So I entered my code again. Still the door didn’t budge. Instead the wall moved. I kid you not. This not-so-little piece of marble panel slid open, and the next thing you know I’m in an elevator I’ve never seen before. Going down. And for all the fact that this elevator only had two buttons, it was a mighty long trip down.

To… nothing. I thought at first it was the subterranean power plant. If you’ve played the game you’ll remember that one. Never did find that level. What I did find was a large room — easily the size of a basketball court — empty save for a few bits of shredded paper and a couple rows of cages along the far wall. Very large, empty cages. This much I got by the dim glow of the elevator light before the doors whooshed shut behind me, plunging me into total black.

Mind you, my night vision is extremely good. So I didn’t panic immediately. I waited.

Nothing but unrelieved darkness. Even night vision needs something. Moonlight. Starlight. Some native light source to amplify. There was none. Clearly time to go back up the elevator. Except that when I felt along the wall behind me, I couldn’t feel the elevator doors. Or their access panel. No doors, no seams, no little raised panel frame.

I sensed that now might be the right time to panic…

Except that panic rarely accomplishes anything. The doors hadn’t moved, and neither had I. So they were still there. What I needed now was a light switch. I began to feel my way along the wall. After all, I had a pretty good snapshot of the place in my head, at least the near end, and the elevator doors were in the middle of the wall. How lost could I get?

I already knew the cages were empty. Whatever had been down here, they’d moved everything out, right down to the paper shredder. I traced the wall to the far end, my hand trailing along about light switch height. If you think about it, they’re always in the same places. Probably some code for such things. I reached the corner without finding any interruption in the cold, smooth surface. A bit disappointed, I started to turn back.

You’re not Herman. Who are you? Excerpt from Troll’s Blog: Denmother

 

 

Bedtime Stories by Shelby Morgen, Anne Kane, Lena Austin, and Marteeka Karland #boxset #futuristic #PNR #RomCom #RomanceBooks @changelingpress @marteekakarland @AnneKane @Lena_Austin

Bedtime Stories (Box Set) (Bedtime Stories Multi-Author 8)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Renee George

This story’s about how Sam saved Troll’s Blog by coming up with one of the coolest ideas ever. Bedtime Stories Publishing…

Shelby Morgen — Troll’s Blog: Perfect skin, dusted a light powder blue. Bright burgundy Mohawk. 6’4”. Dark blue uniform. Big shiny gun. Yeah. I’m the Troll under the bridge. But if you’re reading my blog, you know that. That’s why I call it Troll’s Blog. Duh. But I digress. This story isn’t about me. Not exactly. It’s about my blog. And Sam. And another one of Sam’s great ideas. You’re gonna love it. Really.

Lena Austin — Ugly Duckling: Jean-Paul, incubus editor for Bedtime Stories Press has been assigned a new author. Dominick may be a fantastic author, but when he gets aroused, the situation gets ugly. Literally. Jean-Paul is sure he can handle Dom. Maybe…

Anne Kane — Pixie’s Playmates: “While the story had an engaging quality, I feel that the flavor of the sex was too vanilla for Bedtime Stories Press.” When Bedtime Stories Press review coordinator Pixie calls the reviewer into the office she finds out “B.J. Smith” is really two very drool-worthy males who want to demonstrate their toys. What’s a pixie to do?

Marteeka Karland — Shut Up! As official kitty of the Bar and Grille for the Bedtime Stories readers and authors, Callie has the last say in everything she does and with everyone in her vicinity. Then Troll makes a proclamation that could very well get someone killed. Anyone who can get the last word in on Callie gets to have his way with her in bed. It’s a proposition Eli can’t refuse. Callie’s about to get all the loving from Eli she can stand. If she can just shut up.

Note: Bedtime Stories in no way represents any actual publishing company. Any resemblance to the staff and authors of Changeling Press is purely coincidental.

That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.

 

button_get-it-today (2)

 

EXCERPT

Excerpt from Troll’s Blog
Shelby Morgen
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Shelby Morgen

I was so wrapped up watching the ’50s vintage Harley coming toward me I didn’t even notice he wasn’t registering on my screen. As in 1950s. Well over a hundred years old, and still on the road. That machine was really flying. Well, no. Not really flying. That’s an old euphemism for moving. Speeding.

God knows what he’d put in the tank. Probably running on moonshine. Nothing legal’d have it cranking like that. The sound of that motor purring down the road toward me had my blood heating up. I closed my eyes for a moment, ready to breathe in the scent of ancient exhaust.

Then it hit me. Sigh. No. Not literally hit me. My brain engaged — enough to see the century-old motorcycle was not registering on my vid panel. Nothing. Flying completely under the radar. And he wasn’t slowing down. In fact, the closer he got, the farther he laid himself out along that tank. Rider and cycle shot past me in one long black blur that had my mouth watering — and my hand on my gun. He might be sexy as hell, all black leather stretched out long and lean over that tank, but nobody — and I mean nobody — runs the gate on my watch.

Alarms and sirens went off, and lights flashed down the next mile of bi-way, warning the felon that he’d best slow down and pull over before the Toll Collector caught up with him.

Not that he slowed in the least. In fact, I’d have bet a month’s salary he gunned it about then.

Fine. If that’s the way he wanted to play it, the chase was on.

Damn, but that view looked even better from behind.

I shook my head as I jumped into my patrol pod, a three-wheeled Flitter that was airborne at a safe hover of a half-meter or so by the time I got my Mohawk crammed into the cockpit and the door slammed shut. What the fuck was he thinking, trying to outrun a Toll Collector?

The bridge itself is a long, straight shot of highway with equally long approaches, spanning just under two kilometers of unquiet waters. This isn’t just any bridge they’ve entrusted to me. No. It’s the Golden Gate, linking Old San Francisco to Marin Co., California. One of the longest bridges in the world. One of the few still in constant operation. Sure, a lot of people use Flitters these days, rather than ground vehicles, but Flitters aren’t exactly safe hovering over rough water, and the bay’s never calm. So unless you’ve got a full pilot’s license, and something jet propelled, if you’re going south, you’ve got to pass over my bridge.

And pay my toll. Which this asshole had elected not to do.

I’m not exactly an inexperienced pilot. I know my bridge like she was my baby. She’s 2.7 kilometers, from abutment to abutment, laid out straight and true as an arrow shot from a master’s bow. We crossed her in just under one minute, and if I hadn’t been so pissed off, I’d have been scared shitless.

Yeah, even a Troll can experience fear. Doesn’t happen often, I’ll admit, but chasing that leather-clad backside across that bridge through sheering winds high above some of the roughest, coldest water this side of hell at 200 KPH is more of a thrill than even a Troll is used to.

I could tell, too, from the way he hugged that tank, that he was really getting off on the chase. Every time the wind hit him he’d roll his shoulders, leaning back into it like he was riding a lover. He glanced back at me once, facemask lifted enough for me to see him grin. I’d bet my pension he had a boner the size of his ego. When I caught this idiot of a Human he was going to get a piece of a little more than my mind. I might even resort to police brutality — before I friggin’ killed him.

No Human scares a Troll and gets away with it.

 

More from Shelby Morgen at Changeling Press …

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