Dragon Schooled (box set) by Emily Carrington #PNR #shifters #GayRomance #LGBT #dragons @changelingpress @CarringtonEmily

 

Three men and the dragons they love confront their fears to
find forever in each other’s arms…

 

Dragon Schooled (Box Set) (Dragon Schooled 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Urban Fantasy,
Elves Dragons and Magical Creatures, Gay, Shapeshifters

 

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Three men and the dragons they love confront their fears to find forever in each other’s arms…

Russian Blau: Ice dragon Blau Lepa seeks nothing more or less than to be a professor at SearchLight Academy. He’s wanted to teach his whole life, and considers it a sacred calling. When he meets Professor Rob Boyle, he’s instantly attracted, but they’re both convinced that teachers and students shouldn’t have sex, not to mention that Blau’s afraid to bond with a human who will pass away so quickly. Eventually Rob gives in to his attraction and finds being dominated by Blau fills him with soaring desires and heals his wounded heart. But is that enough to make him decide to throw away his humanity and accept magical powers so that he can spend all eternity with his lover?

American Telepath: James is a water dragon who fell in love with a human. Rather than expose that human to a dangerous magical world, James abandons Henry. When they meet again it’s like they were never separated. Except Henry refuses — beyond the occasional bang — to have anything to do with James. Together they struggle to overcome the past.

Chinese Morning: Travis longs to remain in the magical world which has given him so much pleasure. The only problem: he’s terrible at his job, and without his job he cannot stay. To distract himself, he seeks out the challenge of sexually dominating a dragon. As Chen falls for Travis’s mouth and hands and mind, he is forced to accept the truth: submission is where he’s meant to be. Will their attraction be enough to rescue them?

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington
Excerpt from Russian Blau

Damn you, Charlie. Half werewolf, my ass. Rob felt his cheeks grow hot and tried not to glare at the door. Somehow he’d always known Charlie was something more than human. How else to explain his blocks-wide telepathy or his ability to hear many things he shouldn’t? How else could he have the ability to get around so smoothly without being able to see more than an inch in front of his nose?

Perhaps that last was unfair, but Rob wasn’t in the mood to be charitable. Charlie had interfered, all but throwing Blau and Rob at each other. How could he do such a thing? Granted, Blau was attractive. Blau was more; he was hot and cheeky, able to explain that the attraction wasn’t one-sided with only the lightest blush.

But that wasn’t the point!

Blau stammered, “I don’t — I don’t know chess.” He shifted some papers Rob just noticed, shuffling them a little and drawing them closer to his chest. “I can’t play anything but checkers and Go.”

One of the world’s most difficult games. Still, it wasn’t chess, and Rob was hard-pressed to keep the disappointment off his face.

Blau stammered again, “I-I’m sorry, but I have to grade these papers. I’ll uh, uh, see you later? And I won’t close my eyes in your class anymore.”

He rushed away.

Rob turned to watch him. He might have called the man back, except Charlie could hear everything going on outside the door to his classroom. Rob didn’t want him knowing any more than was strictly necessary about the couple he’d tried to set up.

So, unable to raise his voice, Rob simply watched Blau’s tight, jeans-clad ass until it was out of sight.

* * *

September in Washington, DC, was a miserable time to be hard, Blau reflected as he struggled toward his dorm room. Not that it would be much cooler there, but at least he could scratch anything and everything he wanted to.

But as he entered the courtyard before his dormitory, he saw the fountain splashing merrily in the insane sunshine. Blau started toward it, only noticing the KEEP OUT signs when he was a few feet from the glorious spray. Letting out a growl of frustration, he stopped short with his hands balled into fists. What sort of taunt was this? Water just meters away and no one allowed even near it?

Frustrated and itching worse than before, Blau decided to give up being human for a few minutes. In spite of the academy’s rules, he doubted anyone would object to a dragon taking his true form for only a little while. After all, there were hundreds of different creatures on this campus. Surely all of them didn’t keep their human guises all the time.

He took a few steps away from the fountain and changed into his eight-foot-tall, pale blue, scaly form. Hence the name Blau, which was the thought he had almost every time he changed.

As tall as the fountain now, he stretched his wings. Just this small amount of free movement felt so good. Blau arched his neck and groaned as his skin settled more comfortably around him, accommodating itself to his frame. He would have been tempted to blow fire for the sheer joy of it, but he didn’t dare violate SearchLight Academy’s rules more than he was already. Fire was a threat to most creatures.

“What are you doing?” demanded a voice below him.

Blau looked down, expecting a teacher or even campus security. Instead he saw James staring up at him with his hands on his hips and his head thrown back to take in Blau’s whole aspect.

“Just stretching and trying to cool off,” Blau answered, his voice issuing from his throat in a resonant boom. “What are you doing?”

“Watching you.” James laughed. And changed, assuming his own eight feet of height. Blue like Blau, he was much darker, an ocean blue that held a little gray in its depths. Then he walked to the fountain, set a single foot in the wide basin at the bottom, and kicked water at Blau.

Who loved it. Basking in the cool liquid’s magic touch, Blau said, “More.”

James kicked more water at him. And more.

“What are you doing?” This time the question was delivered in a shout.

Blau looked to the other side of the fountain and saw Professor Boyle — Rob, Charlie had called him — standing with three other teachers. All four looked livid.

James got out of the fountain. “Just cooling off, sir,” he said, his voice also booming and yet seeming smaller than Blau’s.

“Regain your human forms immediately.” That was Rob. He’d folded his arms across his chest and was glaring up at them, completely unafraid.

Blau liked him for that.

James returned to his human guise. He was naked.

Of course he is, Blau thought, and I’ll be too.

He took two-legged form beside James and tried to look unabashed as he met Rob’s gaze. Was it his imagination or did he see hunger in the depths of the man’s chocolate eyes?

 

Dragon Heart by Stephanie Burke #GayRomance #LGBT #DarkFantasy #UrbanFantasy #NewRelease @changelingpress @FlashyCat

 

Will Vulwin and Iffear’s quest for justice and revenge
lead to war between two Fae factions?

 

Dragon Heart (Dragon 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Gay Romance
Dragons Elves & Magical Creatures, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance

 

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Vulwin and Iffear know who was responsible for the attempts on their lives and how these attacks were carried out; they now only need to discover why. Seeking revenge could shatter the tentative peace and reignite the war between two Fae factions, but blood spilled in hate demands justice. How far will they go to fulfill a blood oath and see the Dragon Stones laid to rest once and for all?

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Stephanie Burke

“I will kill them all.” Vulwin wasted no time in breaking the magic circle he had created and stumbling down the stairs to his Dragon.

Mai hustled after him, looking as incensed as a Brownie could look as she flicked her fingers at him, cleaning him up and changing his clothes into a longer black tunic as he moved.

Vulwin had several things on his mind at the moment, but first he wanted to be with his mate. He left the wooden stairs and made it to the bedroom where Chinsie still sat beside a slumbering Iffear.

“Well, the link is broken to the chain and the poison,” Mai informed him as he moved into the bathroom. There was a popping sound and a smell of fresh herbs filled the air. “But you might want to bathe him to remove the rest. I have drawn a bath of elderberry, honeysuckle, plantain, and comfrey. It should soothe his pain and pull out what is left of the poisons in his system. I’m going to burn these sheets and change the bed… and then you can tell me what that grateful soul whispered to you.”

“A name, Mai,” Vulwin spoke softly as he unwound his Dragon from the blanket that encased him as Chinsie looked on. “It gave me a name.”

Mai tilted her head to the side and considered her friend’s mate for a moment. “I am to assume that this name will cease to be?”

“You can be assured that his direct line will cease to be,” Vulwin growled, but the aggression was restricted to his voice as he tenderly cradled his Dragon in his arms. His eyes filled with love as he stared down at Iffear.

“Bathe.” Mai waved her hand toward the waiting bath. “Get out and take your romantic nonsense with you. I have work to do. Chinsie and I are going to ward this house properly now that my secret is out.”

“Iffear didn’t know?” Vulwin pulled his eyes away from his mate long enough to ask.

“He suspected, but then he left me to my privacy. He gave me a choice. He has always given me choices. He’s cool like that.”

“Yes, he is,” Vulwin agreed before turning and exiting the room, his mate in arms, and he felt powerful Brownie magic begin to cleanse the air.

He had no idea how long he sat in the tub, cradling his mate close before Iffear jerked in his arms, his eyes snapping open.

“Settle,” Vulwin purred at Iffear, hugging him tighter to his chest. “Settle, my Dragon.”

“What happened?”

Vulwin smiled to discover not a hint of weakness in his mate’s voice. He watched, amazed, as Iffear sat up, his eyes traveling around the room, before he turned and centered his gaze onto him. “Vulwin?”

“You were poisoned.”

Iffear’s eyes widened at that before a low growl rolled from his throat. “How?”
His hand went to his chest, going to grip the amulet, and he started when he discovered that there was nothing there. Again his gaze went to Vulwin for an explanation.

“I sang it to rest, my Dragon. The soul is at peace.” Vulwin felt the tension leave his mate as he relaxed against him again.

“Yes.” Iffear was nodding. “I don’t feel its lure anymore, nor its cries of pain.” He looked up at Vulwin, his red eyes glittering in joy. “I thank you, my mate.”

“It was also how you were poisoned.” Vulwin knew that his voice had deepened in anger, but he couldn’t help himself. Someone had tried to make him suffer, to take away the one thing that he held most dear.

“It would not have killed me.” Iffear sniffed. “I am virtually indestructible, even more so with your protections holding me safe.” He waved the threat away. “It was a stupidity of their belief system and outdated information, I would assume.”

“Yet they did this to annoy me? To claim my vengeance? To start a war? It doesn’t make sense.” Vulwin reached out and pulled his Dragon into his arms, inhaling his scent, feeling his body warm and alive in his arms. “Why?”

“Miscalculation, I suppose.” Iffear hugged Vulwin back just as hard. “I am sorry I scared you.”

“Having a mate passing out mid-coitus will do that to a Dhrow.” Vulwin relented and joked a little, though he was still horrified at the thought of losing his mate. “You stole years of my life away.”

Iffear snorted, flicking him on the nose with a wet finger. “You haven’t even reached maturity yet, Dhrow. You have years to spare. And then you can’t start losing them until after our son is grown. Seeing you have a neat piece of contraception jewelry, um… thrust upon you, that won’t even happen until the king decides to release you.”

Iffear chuckled but stopped as Vulwin stiffened in his arms. “Say that again?”

“No son, because you haven’t reached your majority?” Iffear pulled back enough to look back up at him again. “Contraception ring?”

“It is not common knowledge that I have not yet reached the age of my majority,” Vulwin said carefully as his mind roared with plots and information and schemes. Being politically minded was a bitch some days, but in other ways it did more than make one suspicious of everyone else’s motives. Sometimes it pointed you in the correct direction whether you wanted it to or not.

Molten (Box Set) by Kira Stone #scifi #aliens #alienencounters #GayRomance #LGBT #NewRelease @changelingpress

 

Mostly humanoid, definitely alien, sentient liquid metal.
Not what Dolan had hoped for in a lover.

 

Molten (Box Set) (Molten 4)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Futuristic, Paranormal,
Sci-fi, Alien Encounters, Gay

 

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Mostly Humanoid, definitely alien, sentient liquid metal. Not what Dolan had hoped for in a lover.

Molten: Condemned to serve as an indentured miner on a backwater way station, intergalactic translator Dolan knows more about Molten, the liquid metal that fuels Parkeet station, than most. So when he’s ordered to mate with a being that on first contact looks like a pool of the stuff he’s been mining, he’s less than enthusiastic. But his alternative is death.

More Molten: Dolan and his Molten lover, Zian, are on a mission — collect the bits of Molten that have been blown all over the galaxy. Can they rescue the younglings and return them to the Molten home world without blowing up this universe — or their relationship?

Molten Mayhem: Trapped in an escape pod with his mate’s future dependent on him, anger and the need to find Zian drive Dolan to escape, but time is against him. Will Dolan’s rescue bring the couple together or will it separate Dolan and Zian for good, and signal doom for the Molten race?

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kira Stone
Excerpt from Molten

I started stroking my schel — cock to many of you humanoids — and let my brain drift to sexual places I’d enjoyed in the past. My one and only session with the Orgasmatron. Threesome sex with the male twins from Fortunas Delta. And the one that just made my toes curl — a yearly fuck from the demon sex club on Trios.

And then there was him. The one I’d never had but always imagined to be somewhere. The one I looked for in every crowd. The one every other encounter failed, if only marginally, to equal.

Though I became instantly hard and ready to rock, the egg chose that moment to melt. Deform. Puddle.

Nothing will put a wilt in a creature’s sexual enthusiasm like having your partner disintegrate before penetration, let alone afterward. Unless, of course, that’s how they get off. But I’d never come across one who did that, and I didn’t feel that was the case with my egg partner.

The egg did this kind of melting thing, and then this pulsing thing, and then it just kind of ran together and began to rise. Not even a ripple crossed its surface as it took on another shape. That action alone should have told me something important but I didn’t figure out what until later.

When this organism finished re-morphing, it was my turn to collapse. Faint, really. For what I saw before me was not an egg, but the male of my dreams. No, I don’t mean the kind you have when you shut down for an hour in the rejuvenation chamber and wake a bit sticky. I mean the real mental fantasy I had when I was, err, egging on the egg. The perfect male I’d pictured but never met.

Now I know anything on Parkeet Station is labeled as humanoid as long as the being has at least two arms, two legs, one head and walks vaguely upright. All other details are optional and haphazard.

This humanoid was the best formed being the known multiverse had to offer. He had these golden eyes that fluttered open and closed with waves of emotion, and hair that hung in bronze streaks braided with gold to his waist.

His forehead had become so blue it was nearly black, but the color softened as it headed down his body until the tips of his toes were solar flare white. Plus he had all the right pieces in all the right places. So fucking gorgeous I couldn’t breathe. Didn’t breathe. Until my body reminded me that if I wanted to go on looking at him I required oxygen.

So I did that breathing thing again, and he still remained. My living dream. And, see, the thing is, he doesn’t really exist. My dream is just that. There’s no being I’ve seen in any dive, slave auction, or any other palace that resembled this creature. But there he was, standing in front of me, so he had to be real, right?

A morphing egg. One who knew what I liked. Egg sex then became not only possible, it just had to happen or my brain would implode. The concept of hearing “no” from those incredible azure lips just — no, not going there.

I stood and pointed at my chest, thinking I should at least attempt to introduce myself. “Dolan.”

It… he… turned his head as if considering this. “Xzavia’n.”

Right. The word sounded exotic and sexy, but he could have been talking about his mother for all I knew. But for now, I considered that his name. “Hello, Xzavia’n.”

His mouth crooked in a smile and I had the feeling he was trying hard not to laugh at my pronunciation. “Zian,” he supplied.

OK, that sounded like a name and one I could handle. I took another step closer to him and brushed my thumb against his cheek. His skin was extraordinary. Not plastic, not fur, and yet both. “Hello, Zian.”

He reached for my face and I anticipated a similar gesture, but he ran his fingers through my hair, tugging my face close to his, and kissed me. Deeply. Leisurely. As if exploring my mouth had no equal pleasure.

Drop Dead Sexy by Kiernan Kelly #PNR #RomCom #GayRomance #LGBT #Zombies @changelingpress @KiernanKelly

Can love eternal exist for those who are dead but not gone?
It takes a brave zombie to find out.

 

Drop Dead Sexy (Duet) (Drop Dead Sexy 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Zombies, Romantic Comedy, Gay

 

The dead have arisen, and all they want is their old lives back. Can love eternal exist for those who are dead but not gone? It takes a brave zombie to find out.

As Serious as the Grave: Tyler was only dead for a couple of hours before he reanimated, and he’s still handsome and drop dead sexy. What makes his unnatural life worth living? Daniel, a big hunk who just might be the special person Tyler’s spent his life looking for. Will his chance for a lifetime of love with Daniel be taken away before they even get started?

Lights, Camera, Zombies! Jericho’s never been one to shy away from the facts of life… and death… and re-life. Not everyone gets the memo that Zombies are humans with rights, however. When his life is threatened on the set of a new movie, Jericho and his lover, Dex, must decide which is more important, their Zombie pride or their lives.

Publisher’s Note: Drop Dead Sexy (Duet) contains the previously published novellas Serious As the Grave and Lights, Camera, Zombie by Kiernan Kelly.

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kiernan Kelly
Excerpt from As Serious as the Grave

“Payday,” a voice called. The wall of Tyler’s cubicle shuddered as the mailroom clerk, a skinny intern with bad skin and a prominent Adam’s apple, banged his fist against it.

Tyler accepted his paycheck, noticing that the kid’s hand was shaking. No matter how long it had been since the undead had rejoined the ranks of the living, some folks were still gun shy about having to interact with them. “Thanks, Steven,” he said, smiling.

Steven nodded curtly, quickly backing out of the office. Tyler watched the mail cart zip by the door to his cubicle, and shook his head. The kid had worked for the company for nearly six months, but Tyler still scared the shit of out him. If Tyler frightened him, he wondered how Steven dealt with someone like Will Fenton, who looked like a Rob Zombie wet dream.

Turning his attention back to the computer monitor that glowed on his desk, Tyler typed in a string of numbers in rapid succession, and hit “print.” The printer whirred and began spitting out the pages of the report.

“Hey, Tyler, ready to go?”

Looking up, Tyler saw Daniel Norris’ bright blue, bespectacled eyes blinking at him from over the edge of the cubicle wall. A lock of his curling, thick black hair fell over his forehead, giving him a distinctly Clark Kent-ish look.

“Be ready in a minute. Need to get the VanHilton report to Barry before I can leave. He’s been yammering for it all afternoon.”

“The meeting with the VanHilton people isn’t until the end of next week! Barry’s just busting your balls, Tyler. Quitting time is five o’clock, and the fucking jack-off knows it. I swear, the man’s asshole must weep with envy over the amount of shit that comes out of his mouth.”

Tyler laughed, nodding his head. “I know it. But it’s printing now. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

“Well, hurry up. There’s a pitcher of Bud with our names on it waiting for us down at The Pit.”

“We don’t have to go to The Pit again, Daniel.”

“We always go to The Pit. It’s traditional on Friday nights.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, The Pit is a gay bar, Danny, and you’re straight, remember? Why do you want to hang out there? We could go to the Ale House instead,” Tyler offered.

“Because you need to get laid. Just hurry up, will you? It gets crowded in there on Friday nights. I want to get there before we end up standing in a corner holding up the walls. I’ll meet you in the garage.” Daniel’s head disappeared behind the cubicle wall, and Tyler shook his head, watching Daniel’s shadow ghost behind the opaque glass as he walked away.

Scooping up the pages of the report, Tyler stapled them together neatly. Powering down his computer, he quickly cleaned off his desk. Slipping on his leather jacket, he left his cubicle, depositing the report in Barry’s inbox on his way out of the office.

Barry, Tyler noticed, had already left for the night. Guess the world wasn’t going to end if he didn’t have the report in his fat sausage fingers before five after all, Tyler thought wryly. Not that Tyler had ever believed otherwise. Daniel was right — Barry was an asshole.

“Night, Will,” Tyler called as he passed cubicle 17. A line of cardboard evergreen air fresheners had been strung across the cubicle wall, poor defense against the odor that clung to it in a nearly visible cloud. Will was a sweet guy, but none too fresh.

Will’s answer was his normal sludgy, wet grunt. Poor guy – it was hard to be articulate when you didn’t have lips and your larynx resembled Swiss cheese.

Making his way out to the parking garage, Tyler felt a pang of loss as he passed between the rows of shiny sedans and SUV’s. His own less-than-gently-used Chevy had finally died for good less than a month ago, and unlike its owner, there was no hope of resurrection for it. He hadn’t yet found a suitable replacement that was decent and still within his means. Since its untimely death at just over 225,000 miles, he’d been carpooling with Daniel.

Not for the first time since his reawakening, Tyler thanked whatever Powers watched over fools and dead men for Daniel Norris. He’d been Tyler’s best friend for years before Tyler had died, and had blithely continued their relationship afterward, as if there hadn’t been twelve hours in between when Tyler had been stiffer than a monk’s erection.

A slightly tinny horn sounded, hurrying Tyler to Daniel’s dark blue Honda. He tossed his briefcase into the trunk before folding his six-foot frame into the passenger side bucket seat. No sooner had he clicked in his seatbelt than Daniel had the car in motion, heading toward The Pit.

 

MORE BOOKS BY KIERNAN KELLY

Kiernan’s stories of gay romance envelop diverse themes ranging from paranormal to fantasy, and science fiction to contemporary romance. She has fifteen novels currently in print and ebook, and over eighty shorter works available in both mediums. Contrary to popular opinion, she is not a zombie. Yet.

Shifter Rescue: Scales by Sean Michael #BDSM #GayRomance #UrbanFantasy #shifters @changelingpress @seanmichael09

Sometimes life gives you something magical –
if Drill can rescue a dragon that is.

 

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy,
Elves Dragons and Magical Creatures, Gay, Shapeshifters

 

Sometimes life gives you something magical — if Drill can rescue a dragon that is.

The Old Tavern Club is a front for a shifter rescue organization. The BDSM club works well in keeping the owner’s true purpose secret, but when Pirou makes an unusual rescue, it might just be beyond the club’s purview. So he calls in Drill, the owner’s brother.

Drill has never even heard of a dragon shifter before, much less seen one, yet that’s exactly what the beast in the club’s basement looks like. As he works with the dragon, he finds all his instincts insisting that this is the sub he’s been looking for.

Can Drill and the dragon rescue a happy ending for themselves?

 

Get it at Changeling Press

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Sean Michael

Drill headed into the Old Tavern Club, the subtle BDSM club that was the front for his brother Drongo’s shifter rescue operation. Having members who needed discretion and wouldn’t blab themselves if they saw weird things made the place legit and let them offer safe places for their rescues to stay. Only a handful of people who worked in the club knew what was really going on.

He smiled at the twink working the coat check tonight. He’d had that ass a time or two. Over his knee, around his cock. As a part of his cover as a club member, of course.

Heading for the bar, he smiled at Fargo. “Whiskey, neat. And tell Pirou I’m here, please.” Here as requested, summoned almost, although Pirou would never, ever admit to anything so… toppy.

“You got it. How’s life treating you, man?”

“Good. I’m building a third golf course on the far side of the city.” He made a good living with the golf courses, and the best part was that they practically ran themselves, giving him a lot of time for his true passion — helping with the shifters that made their way here.

It was Pirou who answered him, Fargo fading away to the other end of the bar. “Excellent. I’m glad to hear it.” There were heavy lines of worry on Pirou’s face and they looked totally out of place.

The slinky kitty worked hard, but Drill knew he loved his job, was happiest working at it, helping people.

Reaching out, he touched Pirou’s cheek. “So why did you call me down here?”

“I need help.” Pirou was usually far more loquacious than that.

“I figured that much out, sweet kitty. I’ll be needing more details.” In the end, though, he imagined he’d help Pirou, just because it was Pirou.

“Come walk with me?”

Oh, it must be bad. He picked up the whiskey Fargo had brought and downed it. “Okay, lead on.”

Pirou took his hand, fingers sliding on his, touching and playing.

He brought their hands to his mouth, kissing Pirou’s knuckles. “You’re buttering me up.”

“I’m worried. I’m in big trouble with the boss.”

He found that hard to believe, given that Pirou was the soul of the Old Tavern Club. “What did you do?”

“You know how, sometimes, I find an unusual rescue and bring it in even though it’s not our usual werewolf or werekitty?”

Something like constantly? Pirou was the softest touch on Earth and had contacts everywhere. Like he was almost scarily connected.

“I have heard you have a hobby, yes.” Drill teased gently. His brother often said that he had a theory that Pirou went out of his way looking for the hard cases, for the strange beasts.

“Well, I have one downstairs. He’s… special. Like for real. Like oh, my God.”

“They aren’t all special?” He wasn’t teasing anymore — it was an honest question. He could remember the lion Pirou had taken in, the poor thing so bedraggled and abused no one had thought he’d live. No one except Pirou, who had nursed the beast back to health. Then there’d been the zebra. Talk about high-strung. They weren’t really equipped to deal with equine shifters, didn’t have anyone qualified to help them. Pirou had made it happen.

“Yeah, but most of them are normal special. Not about-to-get-me-fired special.”

“Okay, okay, you did it — I’m intrigued now.” Because Drill couldn’t imagine anything that would make Drongo fire his beloved Pirou.

“He’s in the basement. He’s sedated. I’m scared to let him wake up.”

“You’re making him sound like a serial killer.”

“God, I hope not.” Pirou’s fervent words made him even more intrigued.

They headed past the kitchen, deep into the basement. It was clean, but… uncomfortable. Underground was far away from the air, from the sky and clouds.

Drill wrinkled his nose. “A vampire?”

“No. No, he’s… Here. It’s easier to just show you. I won’t open the door, in case he’s awake.”

Drill pressed his nose against the window in the door, but it was dark and he couldn’t see anything. Before he could complain, Pirou pressed a button and a light came on highlighting a shape draped over the mattress, which was the only furniture the room boasted.

Long tail, wings like a bat, pointed snout, sapphire-blue scales. Whoa.

“Pirou… That’s… he’s… a dragon.” Drill was stunned.

“Uh-huh.”

“Why is he here?” There had to be a reason the dragon was one of Pirou’s special projects and sedated. Hell, Drill hadn’t even known there was such a thing as a dragon shifter. No, he hadn’t even known there was such a thing as a dragon. They were a thing of legends.

“The slavers had him. My contact said that they hadn’t managed to get him to wake yet.”

“Slavers!” That made him growl. “So you don’t know if he’s even sane or not, let alone a shifter.”

“I don’t know anything except that he’s a dragon and he needs help,” Pirou admitted.

“And you want me to help him and find out as much as I can before you have to tell my brother what you’ve done.”

“Uh-huh. Please.”

“You’re lucky I like you, Pirou.” Drill went to the door. “I’m going in.”

Wanderer’s Haven by Emily Carrington #GayRomance #LGBT #UrbanFantasy #DarkFantasy @changelingpress @CarringtonEmily

Poison, a forced marriage, untamed lust; what’s not to love?

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

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

Garrett woke moderately early the next morning, which meant the sun had risen and he could see in the dimness without using his hawk-given sight. He had gone to bed confused about Michael’s odd behavior from the night before. The beta wolf had refused to share the bed that was rightfully his. Instead, he’d slept in the den — assuming he’d slept at all. He’d been acting strangely yesterday, letting Garrett put an arm around him and then pulling away. It was as if he couldn’t make up his mind.

Garrett could hear muffled sounds all around him, not in the same room but indicative of a crowded house. His heart ached for the aloneness of his house in Arizona. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t made any provision for being away for a long time beyond asking his friend Maggie to water the spider plants.

It’s not like I have pets or anything. That was true, but… well, he hadn’t meant to abandon his home. Especially not for these frozen wastes.

He groaned softly and rolled to a sitting position. He put his legs on and thought his clothes into existence. Standing, he made his way toward the door. Just as he opened it a crack, two close, lowered voices reached his ears. Garrett stood perfectly still, hoping he was upwind as well as mostly invisible thanks to the door.

“You’re spitting on our traditions,” said a voice Garrett recognized but couldn’t immediately name. He had the distinct feeling this other person had challenged Michael before.

“How, exactly?” Michael asked, his tone emotionless.

“You aren’t treating the mating bond with respect.” If the other wolf was intimidated by Michael’s flat delivery, it didn’t show.

“How?” Michael asked again, although after a pause that Garrett thought betrayed nervousness. He was right, he decided, when Michael added, “We had sex yesterday.”

“Yesterday morning. Most new couples can’t keep their hands off each other and there’s nothing but sex, as you put it, between you. Does he hold your hand? Does he submit to being guarded by you? Does he even tell you where he’s going?”

Garrett cursed silently. He had called Michael to inform him of his plans. But that had been when he was five minutes away from the house in Hamburg.

Michael was quiet for several moments. Then he replied, “Where is it written that we have to be exactly like every other couple you’ve ever met? And have all the mated pairs you’ve encountered been the same? And as for the prescribed ten times, that may be tradition but it’s arbitrary.”

“Ten is a number of power. As you well know. You should be careful, Michael. You’re pushing back against centuries of tradition. And if you keep on, we can dismiss you.”
“Donald, I think that’s Tilthos Charles’s purview, not yours. Wolf packs are not a democracy.”

“No, but the alpha will listen if there is unrest in his pack.”

“Face it,” Michael said, and real emotion entered his voice for the first time since the conversation had begun. “You just want to get rid of me. You’re hoping for a better place in the pack, or for more favor from our new alpha. You thought, with Katka and Viktor gone, that you’d have a chance to get a little higher. But you’ll have to eventually admit to yourself that you just aren’t dominant enough.”

“And you’re not dominant enough to defeat Jeremy Redpath, so you’re not beta anymore.”

Michael didn’t answer.

Garrett’s heart ached, but he couldn’t think of any way to step in that wouldn’t make Michael look weak.

“The be-all-and-end-all of it is this,” Michael said at last. “You don’t have as much power as you think you do. I’m not going anywhere, and my relationship with Garrett is none of your business.”

Footsteps approached the door and Garrett moved back quickly.

Michael entered, looked at Garrett, probably read what Garrett couldn’t quite keep off his face, and pressed suddenly trembling lips together. Then he closed the door and went across to the radio. WYRK came in clear. Garrett had no particular feelings about country music one way or the other, but he had to admit there were some more liberal songs on this station than he was used to associating with the genre.

“Well?” Michael asked. “I assume you heard all of that.”

Garrett crossed the room and took Michael’s hands. “You’re not anything less in Charlie’s eyes –” He saw Michael wince. “Sorry. It’s just that I knew him before he was an alpha. You’re not anything less in Charles’s eyes if you’re not his beta. He’s not like that. All of his people matter to him.”

“How do you know if you’ve never seen him as an alpha before?”

It was a valid question, but luckily one that Garrett could answer easily. “Because I’ve seen how he treats students, faculty, donors, and SearchLight agents alike. With respect, but in such a way that you know he won’t take any shit. And he is not going to like how Donald is bullying you.”

“He’s not going to know about that,” Michael said, bearing down on Garrett’s hands. “At least not by me. Or you.”

“Why not?”

“Because Donald’s not really a threat to me. He’s just a pain in the ass.”

Probably that was the only answer that Michael could have given that might convince Garrett not to go to Charlie right now. “So… you don’t think he can raise the pack against you?”

“I have too many friends here for him to get what he wants.” Michael sighed. “It does hurt knowing that I’m breaking traditions I’ve believed in all my life.”

“I’m not sure how to help you if having sex won’t do that.” Garrett hesitated before adding, “Because Donald’s right, at least in this: I’m not a hand-holder and I’m unused to having to answer to others for my actions. At least not unless it’s in an official capacity.”

Michael nodded, looking miserable.

Garrett reminded himself that werewolves could smell lies, so instead of spewing some assurance he didn’t mean, he took Michael into his arms and rubbed his back.

“Thought you didn’t like hand-holding,” Michael said against his shoulder.

“Being sentimental isn’t my nature. Being compassionate is.” And he kissed Michael’s hair.

“This is more than compassion,” Michael said, and he cupped Garrett’s crotch…

The Romantic by Elodie Parkes #LGBT #GayRomance #ContemporaryRomance @ElodieParkes @eXtasyBooks

The Romantic

MM romance from eXtasy Books

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Handsome Luke Kirby loves books, so when he finds boxes of old and beautiful tomes in a dusty shop, he can’t resist buying them. To his delight one of them contains what he hopes will bring an end to his loneliness and heartache. As he prepares to cast an ancient prayer spell to the god of love, across town Ethan Goss decides that moving to a new apartment will ease his broken heart.

With the help of an eccentric real estate agent, gorgeous Ethan goes to a viewing in the block where Luke lives.

When Luke meets Ethan in the lobby, it’s the start of a passionate love affair.

Fate hasn’t finished with the two handsome men—will true happiness evade them both?

Warning this story contains MM sex in the love scenes. HEA

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Read a teaser

In the lobby, Victor stopped walking. “I should show you the garden, but I need the key for the gate. It’s in my car. Wait here a moment.” He strode rapidly out of the front doors.

Ethan checked out the table in the foyer where mail sat in three neat stacks. One stack had a lot, the others not much at all. Ethan couldn’t help reading the names on the envelopes. As his gaze traveled over the addresses, someone clattered down the polished hardwood stairs.

Ethan turned to the footsteps.

A young man glanced up from watching where his feet fell. His blue eyes locked with Ethan’s stare.

Ethan gazed at him, and his stomach lurched. His heart pounded. Not one word would form in his mind other than, Wow.

The young man smiled, approaching the table. “Hi. I’m collecting my snail mail—yeah, not much as usual.”

Through a daze of attraction, Ethan watched the man pick up the two envelopes in his stack. He looked the young man up and down, taking in his hard body and fashionably cut dark hair. He held back a sigh of appreciation as the man turned to him.

“Are you the new tenant?” He waved a hand at the apartment door.

His low voice traveled over Ethan like a glaze of melting honey. Ethan stared at the man’s handsome face. He is gorgeous. About my age, too. “I haven’t taken the place yet, just…just viewed it.”

The young man moved closer. “You should take it. There aren’t many places as good, big, and with a garden this close to the city.” He held out his hand. “Luke Kirby. I live on the third floor, but that’s my patch of garden next to yours, if you take the place. It might seem odd to have to trundle down the stairs to sit in the sun with my coffee, but I’ve grown used to it.” His eyes sparkled at Ethan. He held Ethan’s gaze as he talked.

Butterflies filled Ethan’s stomach. He couldn’t stop his heart hammering and wondered if he could actually speak, meeting Luke had such an effect on him. “Ethan Goss.” He shook Luke’s hand. What he felt like doing was pulling the guy close and kissing those perfect lips that moved again.

“Pleased to meet you.” Luke held on to Ethan’s hand. His eyes held something unspoken.

A wave of longing rose through Ethan. His loneliness and need for sex put an ache in his stomach, replacing the butterflies. He glanced down at the

strong hand gripping his, wondering if he could hold on a little longer, despite how weird that might be. Better not, that’s kinda creepy. All the same, it wasn’t Ethan who abandoned the handshake.

Luke let go but trailed his fingertips along Ethan’s palm as he withdrew his hand.

With his skin tingling from the touch, Ethan gazed into Luke’s blue eyes and knew. He’s gay. He somehow knows I am, too—probably the way I’m ogling him. He’s interested in me. Thank you, god. Ethan flashed his eyes at Luke with a flirtatious expression he usually reserved for cute guys he met in the gay bar.

Copyright Elodie Parkes 2019 eXtasy Books

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