SPOTLIGHT: Jack-O-Lanterns (multi-author box set) #BDSM #Halloween #DarkFantasy #PNR

Spotlight: Jack-O-Lanterns (Box Set) (Jack-O-Lanterns Multi-Author 12)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Halloween nightmares & flying broomsticks… It’s All Hallows Eve and you can’t stop the party for long!

Cat Out of Hell by Isabella Jordan — Joey makes Katrina feel things she’s never felt before. But will either of them escape this Halloween nightmare alive?

Headless Horseman by Marteeka Karland — One too many Flying Broomsticks and a phobia about Halloween aren’t the only things chasing Isabelle Crane into the darkness…

Voodoo Queen by Lia Connor — When Paul comes to check Marie out will he wind up in her bed? It’s Halloween in New Orleans, and you can’t stop the party for long!

Raven by Willa Okati — On All Hallows’ Eve Leonard comes to Andrew for their yearly tryst. Trouble is, one of them’s a ghost, and can’t stay longer than midnight…

Good Weds Evil by Kate Hill — Trapped between heaven and hell, Evangeline and Urbane have only each other. Forever.

Witch of Alloway by Marie Treanor — When notorious rock star Tam returns to his home village for a special Hallowe’en gig, it’s more than the dead Annie raises!

All Dressed Up by Ashlynn Monroe — Will Isaac be willing to share his wife with two demons?

Kuro by Ana Raine — When Preston saves a black cat everything he knows about life and demons is going to be questioned.

Like The Stars by Jonathan Wright — A vampire will seduce you with detached casualness, but a Lycan will fight to the death to keep you.

Get it at Changeling Press

Also Available in Paperback

 

Praise for The Headless Horseman 

“If you like your erotica galloping fast, then Marteeka Karland’s Jack-O-Lantern: The Headless Horseman is just what you need. It’s light and humorous in all the right places. A fitting read for the season.”

— TMC Reviews

 

Praise for Raven

“Willa Okati delivers another… stunner with volcanic m/m intimacy which sears the pages.”

5 Hearts! — Annie, The Romance Studio

 

Praise for Good Weds Evil

“Incendiary passion burns up this Jack-O-Lantern and makes it a heavenly treat for Halloween.”

Multiple O’s! — Isabelle Spencer, Romance Reviews Today

 

 

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Isabella Jordan
Excerpt from Cat Out of Hell

Joey grinned from his seat at the bar as he looked around the smoke-filled room. The biker at the bar he’d visited in the last town had given him some good advice. This place really was something different. A wild party where a guy had a good chance of getting laid. Just what he was looking for.

It wasn’t yet midnight and the party was in full swing. Beer and whiskey flowed, the crowd was a nightmarish sea of masked and painted faces. After doing a double take, Joey realized he was the only one who wasn’t dressed up for Halloween.

And I’m in a town called Hell. How was that for his first Halloween as a free man?

Two people were already fucking in a booth near the back, a guy dressed like a Roman soldier and a woman dressed like a naughty nurse. There was another couple next to him, dressed as a devil and his beautiful angel, and from the look on the guy’s red painted face, they appeared to be ready to get it on. Until the devil noticed Joey sitting there.

Following the line of his gaze, the angel turned in her seat to gaze at Joey.

Damn, she was beautiful. Unlike many of the bar’s costumed patrons, she wasn’t wearing a wig or a hat. Just a wire and tinsel halo hovering over long, blonde hair so pale it looked silver. Her skin was creamy white, and a lot of it was visible in the filmy white costume she wore. The tops of her full breasts were revealed by what there was of a bodice and it had his cock throbbing beneath the small table where he sat.

Beautiful, clear blue eyes met his. She liked what she saw too, but the raw lust he felt wasn’t mirrored in her eyes. No, there was something else…

Joey never noticed the devil ease over to his table as he stared at her.

“Do you like angel food cake, my friend?” The man’s voice was a harsh whisper in his ear.

So he was her pimp?

Regardless, Joey loved the thought of fucking her. The physical cravings that had been chemically induced by the men who’d created him, half man and half leopard, and kept him a prisoner for so many years, had lessened to an extent. It was tolerable now. Things had been so easy when he was still with Alex. Sharing the lovely reporter they’d initially kidnapped, without any sort of commitment, just to appease the nagging ache in his loins, had been ideal. It had been Alex who’d fallen for the beautiful blonde.

Something about this little angel reminded Joey of her, of Casey. The thought of having the beauty in front of him in bed made his mouth water.

“Maybe,” Joey finally answered.

“Our little angel will spread her wings for you,” the man’s voice droned on close to his ear. “For the right price.”

Her gaze shifted to the devil at his ear and back.

“What’s the right price?” Joey wanted to know.

 

 

 

Christmas Carole by Angela Knight #Christmas #holidaybooks #romance @changelingpress

You’ll want a visit from these Ghosts of Christmas Yummy…

 

Christmas Carole (Christmas Spirits 5)

 

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Christmas, Paranormal
Length: 56 pages

Carole Elzer is no Scrooge — she loves Christmas. But when she’s visited by the ghost of her best friend and business partner, Marley, Carole learns she must make amends for something she hasn’t done — otherwise, Marley warns, she’ll spend the rest of her life in anguish and guilt.

She’s guided on her voyage into Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come by three sexy spirits, all of whom look just like her partner, Bob Crockett. Bob is still grieving for the wife he loved and lost years ago, but Carole nurses a guilty love for him.

As Carole explores her past, present and future with her handsome spirits, she realizes just how high the stakes are. Bob’s young son Tim’s life hangs in the balance. If she doesn’t learn how to save the child, none of them will ever again know a merry Christmas — and she and Bob will have no future together.

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

Cool Text - Excerpt 308424954226578

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Angela Knight

The rambling old Victorian house looked like it had fallen off a Christmas card as it sprawled under the full moon, all white wooden siding, mansard roof, and lacy gingerbread trim. A gorgeous tree stood in an upstairs window, decorated in antique toys and draped in flashing twinkle lights.

“Bah fucking humbug,” I muttered, my breath steaming in the cold as I trudged up the steps, wanting nothing more than my bed. I’d been at work since seven in the morning. It was almost midnight now.

To make matters worse, we’d been shooting a wedding video. Weddings require you to capture every moment, from decorating the church all the way to the last drunken guest stumbling home from the reception. Which makes for a looong day that seems even longer when it’s Christmas Eve.

And did I mention it was a wedding? No other event we shoot calls up old anger, pain, and grief like the joyous union of two people in holy matrimony. Not just for me, either. There’d been ghosts in Bob Crockett’s eyes all day. Which just goes to show, even the best marriages will eventually kick you in the teeth.

My partner deserved better. His wife, Marley, sure as hell had.

My keys jingled merrily as I unlocked the door. As I started to turn the knob, I glanced up at the goofy plastic lion doorknocker Marley had put up at Halloween two years ago. I’d left it up, even changed the LED batteries a couple of times. Looking at it always made me remember her, and smile. Or blink back tears.

It had never made all the blood drain from my face — until now.

Marley glared at me from the spot the lion’s head should be, her eyes blazing red, her brows lowered, teeth bared. Her lips shaped the word, “Idiot.”

“Christ!” I leaped backward, heart in my throat. And stared. The knocker was just a goofy plastic lion again, red LED eyes glaring.

Huh. I really was tired if I’d mistaken the beast’s mane for Marley’s long curls, its snarl for hers. Not that Marley had been the type to snarl without a damned good reason. She’d been more the rainbows and unicorns type, endlessly creative and funny.

Maybe the slice of wedding cake I’d eaten had been laced with cannabis edibles. Which was illegal as hell in South Carolina, but we were talking about the kind of people who held weddings on Christmas Eve. Being the richest fish in the very small pond of Carson, SC, the Grahams didn’t think rules applied to them.

Being Candice Elzer’s daughter, I knew a lot of people like that.

My heartbeat began to slow as I reached for the key I’d left hanging in the lock, twisted it, and pushed inside. I hurried to the foyer alarm system keypad to disarm it. My hand shook as I punched in the code, and I curled my lip in irritation. “Get a grip, Carole.”

Pissed at myself, I stomped over to pull my keys out of the lock and close the door.
My textile-magnate great-great grandfather had built the house a hundred and thirty years ago, and it had been in the Elzer family ever since. It still retained a certain dark Victorian grandeur, between its antique furniture, carved oak wainscoting, and odd little nooks and crannies created by asymmetric architecture.

Which could have been creepy as hell, if I hadn’t decorated the crap out of the house for Christmas. Holly, fresh pine boughs, and mistletoe were everywhere, along with Victorian Santas, angels, and antique toys. I’d put up two different live trees, one in my bedroom, and a twelve-footer brushing the parlor’s intricately carved ceiling details. The whole place smelled like a pine forest.

Unfortunately, my Christmas spirit had died of an advanced case of Graham Wedding around noon. My shoulders ached as I started up the stairs that were ridiculously wide, even by Victorian standards.

Somewhere in the house, wooden flooring creaked, sounding exactly like a footstep. The house had a habit of groaning and creaking to itself like an elderly lady bitching, but something about that particular sound made the hair rise on the back of my neck. I peered over the banister, listening, one hand dipping into my purse to fish for my cell phone.

Nothing. No other sound. Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself. The security system was still armed. Nobody broke in.

I turned to continue up the stairs — and gasped.

Parked on the stairs ahead of me — stairs that had been empty a heartbeat before — a hearse stood, its back hatch swung wide to reveal the coffin inside.

Lurching backward with a yelp, I barely saved myself from falling with a frantic grab for the banister. I spun and raced back down the steps so fast, it was a miracle I didn’t break my neck. At the bottom, I wheeled to peer back the way I’d come.

The stairs were empty.

Dumbass, what did you expect? No way in hell could a set of hundred-and-forty-year-old steps support a couple tons of hearse.

It hadn’t been cannabis that cake had been laced with. It had been LSD.

Bob. I needed to call Bob. Six-foot-four with a broad, muscular build, Bob Crockett could handle anything. One call and he’d be here in ten minutes. Back in his hard news days, Bob had covered everything from shotgun murders to high-speed chases, and nothing shook his cool. Not even his business partner’s overactive imagination.

But it was Christmas Eve, and we’d spent all day working that wedding because the bride’s family had written us a check with a lot of zeros. I wasn’t about to drag him out of bed now. For one thing, he shouldn’t leave his twelve-year-old son home alone just to calm me down.

Tim had gone along on today’s shoot, just as he’d been doing from the age of five. He’d always been a laughing, bright-eyed boy, but his mother’s death had left him pale and quiet. He’d seemed particularly withdrawn today.

Damned if I was going to bother them because visions of serial killers danced in my head. Instead I stood at the foot of the stairs, concentrating on getting my racing heartbeat under control.

I kept a Lady Smith .38 in my upstairs closet. Bob had bought it for me one Christmas, then dragged me to the range to practice until he was sure I could hit what I aimed at.

“I’ve covered too many fucking murders,” he’d told me. “If you’re going to live alone, you’re damned well going to be able to defend yourself.”

Now I took back every time I’d teased him about his paranoia.

Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I started up the stairs almost as fast as I’d come down them. If I heard so much as a floorboard creak, I was calling 911.

And tell them what? demanded the voice of common sense. That your doorknocker turned into your dead partner’s face and you saw a hearse parked on the stairs? The cops’ll search the house for drugs.

Damn it. No cops.

I hurried up the steps and down the hallway to the master bedroom, flipping on lights as I went. Pausing, I gave the room a once-over. The brass bed was neatly made under a beautiful heirloom quilt I’d inherited, like the house, from my grandmother. An antique cherry armoire and bureau stood along opposite walls. Next to the bow window, the Christmas tree was draped in twinkle lights, swags of gold tinsel, and wooden replicas of Victorian toys.

I closed the door behind me and hurried to the antique cherry armoire, where the Lady Smith resided in a top shelf gun safe. Fingers flying, I punched in the code and pulled out the matte black automatic.

Yep, fully loaded, safety on.

Feeling a lot more secure — and a bit stupid at my freak-out — I put the gun down on the cherry nightstand and started undressing. We always dressed up for weddings, but shooting video requires stringing cable on your hands and knees. Not the kind of thing you do in a dress and hose. Today I’d worn a black wool pantsuit and an ice-blue silk blouse. For a moment, I distracted myself with the memory of Bob in a suit. The jacket had needed no padding to call attention to his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. Not to mention that perfectly muscled ass…

Cut it out, Carole. No lusting after Marley’s husband.

Still, I loved the intent look he got in those gray eyes whenever he was setting up a shot. There was something sensual in the way his powerful hands gripped one of our commercial-grade video cameras, balancing it effortlessly on one strong shoulder…

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight’s first book was written in pencil and illustrated in crayon; she was nine years old at the time. A few years later, she read The Wolf and the Dove and fell in love with romance. In addition to her fiction work, Angela’s publishing career includes a stint as a comic book writer and ten years as a newspaper reporter. Several of her stories have won South Carolina Press Association awards. Angela lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a detective with the Spartanburg PD.

 

Pick-Me-Up by Megan Slayer #PNR #Christmas #GayRomance #LGBT #holidayromance @MeganSlayer @changelingpress

Can a human find forever with a spirit? At Christmas?

Pick-Me-Up (Christmas Spirits 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Christmas, Paranormal, Gay

 

Nic Kristol wants one thing for Christmas — a second chance. Being dead makes second chances hard, but the moment he sees Jon, he’s determined to meet the handsome man.

Jon Ruhle thought he’d given up on romance, but along came Nic. He’s drawn to the mysterious man and would love to spend the holidays together. There’s just one problem — Nic’s a spirit. Will he and Nic find their forever together or apart?

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for November 30th at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Megan Slayer

“I’m going to try something new,” Jon said. “Remember me telling you about that bistro, Kim’s Place? That’s the new bar I went to a few times with Brett.”

Willie Gus said nothing — not that Jon expected him to reply. He plopped onto his side and licked his back leg.

Jon marveled at the cat’s dexterity. He swore if he could bend like that, he’d never leave the house. Why have a boyfriend if you could lick your own balls?

He sighed. Why was he telling the cat about his plans for the evening? Because Willie Gus was the only one who listened. Jon had once thought he could see spirits. Hadn’t he spoken to the ghost of his grandmother? Brett swore he was crazy. Maybe so. Jon still believed he’d talked to his MeMaw.

“Anyway, I’m going to see if I can catch the eye of the server, Nic. He’s adorable.” No, adorable didn’t begin to describe Nic. The guy had muscles everywhere, a toned tush, a great sense of style — despite the bland server garb — personality in spades, and those eyes. Jon could get lost in Nic’s deep brown eyes. He focused on the cat. “I love how easygoing Nic can be.” He frowned. “Do you think he’s doing it to get a bigger tip? Or because he’s really interested?” Was he wrong to want to pay for the positive attention? Maybe.

Probably.

His phone rang. The cat growled, then darted from the counter. Jon swiped to check the listing on the screen. The library. What in the hell were they calling him for? He wasn’t on the schedule for that evening and besides, the library closed in half an hour.

He answered, despite his better judgment to leave well enough alone. “Hello?”

“Hi. Are you home?”

He knew that voice. Brett. “No, I’m out.” Liar. He’d be leaving soon, but hadn’t gone yet.

“Why?”

“You sound like I’m being mean,” Brett said. “I wanted to see what you’re doing.”

“I’m out.” He refused to give his ex any details.

“Would you be able to swing by the library and cover for me tonight? I’ve got somewhere I need to be,” Brett said. “I could use your help. You’re always good for a favor.”

“Not tonight.” He kept his voice level, despite wanting to scream. “You’re trying to get out early to meet a guy, and you want me to close so I’ll see you with this guy. It’s your standard operating procedure.”

“I’m hurt.” Brett whimpered. “I don’t do that.”

“It’s seven-thirty and the library closes at eight,” Jon said. “You can cool your heels for thirty minutes. You can handle closing, and I don’t want to leave my date in order to help you. I’m not the boss.”

“Jon.”

The poutiness in Brett’s voice grated on Jon’s nerves. “No.”

“You were more fun when we were together,” Brett said. “You weren’t so angry.”

“Maybe it’s because I didn’t know back then that you were cheating on me,” Jon snapped. “Now I know the truth.”

“I never cheated,” Brett said. “Come to the library and keep me company. It’s cold and snowy. Plus, we can heal old wounds.”

He could stand only so much lying, and Brett had gone over his limit. “I’m out.” He checked his look in the mirror alongside the table. The bistro closed at nine — he wasn’t sure why — but he wanted to try to get a drink with the hottie server. If he was going to go through with his plan, then he needed to get moving.

“Jon.”

“Sorry. You have your job, and you’re scheduled tonight. I’m not. I have places to go after I leave this club.” The excuse didn’t sound great, but who cared?

“Who is he?” Brett asked.

“Nic.” Christ. He wasn’t with the guy, but Nic’s name rolled right off his tongue.

“Do I know him?”

“Maybe.” Jon had seen Nic four times when they’d gone to the bistro, but Brett had paid no attention. Brett had been focused on the other men at the establishment. But that was Brett — he hated to pay Jon much mind.

“Have I dated him?” Brett asked.

“I don’t know, but I doubt it.” Jon stood and finger-combed his hair with his free hand. He wanted to look his best for Nic.

“Let me meet you. I want to check this guy out,” Brett said. “You know, make sure he’s on the level.”

“I’m good.” Jon appraised his reflection in the mirror. He needed all the confidence he could get, but damn, he was cute. Not handsome or drop-dead gorgeous, but cute. “I need to go. Nic’s ready and the bar is boring.”

“Jon.”

He disconnected the call. “Oops.” Once he grabbed his coat and scarf, he stepped into his leather boots. He tucked his phone into his coat pocket, then snagged his keys and wallet from the table. He turned to Willie Gus. “Wish me luck.”

The cat sneezed, then left the kitchen again. So much for the feline’s vote of approval.

“I’m out. Hopefully, it’s a good night.” Jon left the apartment and locked up.

He headed downstairs and the spring returned to his step. Giddiness filled his mind. He was about to ask someone out for the first time in months. Holy shit. Could he do this?

He stepped into the bitter December air and gasped. He tugged his collar and scarf tighter around his throat. Christmas carols played on the loudspeakers along the street. Twinkle lights shimmered from the light poles, illuminating his path. Tinsel Christmas trees rustled on the trash bins, and a dusting of snow added a festive feel to his four-block journey.

Jon loved living in the center of Danielsville. He could walk to the stores, restaurants and even the theater. The library was only five blocks away. The police presence in town ensured anyone downtown would be safe. Why move away from such a wonderful situation?

He ducked into the bistro to find it mostly empty. He’d expected a large crowd, it being a Friday night and not long before Christmas. Where were the throngs of shoppers needing to wet their whistle after strolling downtown? He looked for Nic. Was his favorite server there?

“Hi, you.” Nic sashayed up to him. “I hoped you’d come in tonight. Is it chilly out?”

“Freezing.” Jon swept his gaze over Nic. The burgundy long-sleeve shirt clung to his frame and showcased the strength in his upper body. The long apron covered his lower half. Pity. He loved looking at Nic’s body. He swallowed the whimper in his throat. He’d been cold until now, but the chill evaporated. Heat enveloped him and not because of the fireplace or his coat. “Which section is yours?” he managed. “I want to be in your section.”

“Over here.” Nic grinned. He seemed to shimmer from the inside. Was he wearing glitter? Nic paused and touched Jon’s biceps. “Are you sure you want my section?”

“Of course.” He wished he could lean into Nic. He loved the heat radiating from him. “Lead the way.”

“I’m off once I close out your tab.” Nic gestured to a booth. “But I’m thrilled you came here for me. I’m getting the feeling you like me.”

“I do,” Jon blurted. Fuck. He hadn’t meant to be so blunt. Chalk it up to being bitten by the Christmas spirit.

 

PLAYLIST

I write to music. Sometimes it’s a movie, but most of the time I need tunes. These are the ones that inspired and were listened to while I wrote Pick Me Up, a Christmas Spirits story.

Second Chance by .38 Special

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRkaPdfjzEk

Nic needs a second chance and he’s hedging his bets on Jon.

Sacrifice by Elton John

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrLkTZrPZA4

I just really like this song and the sensualness of it lent itself to the story.

Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Jtpf8N5IDE

It’s Queen. It’s sad. It’s sweet. I cry with this one, but it fits how Nic feels.

Sympathy for the Devil – Motorhead cover

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bt4Xx3vX3Lg

Nic’s dealt with his share of devils and has to come to terms with what he’s done.

Never Surrender by Corey Hart

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4pg6Jh94Lo

Honestly, I just like this song. It didn’t inspire the story, but it kept coming up on my playlist. I love it.

Other songs that were on there and kept me going during the writing of the story:

Just What I Needed by the Carshttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5-rdr0qhWk

Thought I’d Died and Gone to Heaven by Bryan Adamshttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CTfIr_euGTs

I Want You to Want Me by Cheap Trickhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJs_L7yq5qE

Freak on a Leash by Kornhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRGrNDV2mKc

In the End by Linkin Parkhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVTXPUF4Oz4  

Eclectic grouping, isn’t it? That’s me, though. I don’t have many set playlists or specific ones for specific books. These are the songs that were on my lists during the writing of this book.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When she’s not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don’t seem to mind.

When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.

She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.

Megan can be found at https://www.facebook.com/theauthormeganslayer.
Changeling Press: https://www.changelingpress.com/megan-slayer-a-161.

 

 

 

 

Painter’s Pride by Emily Carrington #Gay #RomanceBooks #LGBT #Christmas #holidayromance @CarringtonEmily @changelingpress

The Christmas holiday brings Aaron no hope for his art, but Jason does.

Painter's Pride (Christmas Spirits 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Christmas, Gay, Contemporary

Jason and Aaron have been together since Aaron was a freshman. Now Aaron is a senior and getting ready to pursue his art career in NYC. But Aaron, growing up poor, can’t quite believe that anyone would want to help him support his talent – not even his lover, Jason. As they near the holidays, Aaron sinks into despair.

Jason believes in Aaron, but his boyfriend’s refusal to let him help is pulling them apart. Will the season of hope bring them together or will it destroy their love forever?

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for November 30th at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

 

BEHIND THE BOOK

This short story is part of a much longer series tentatively called Year of the Queer. This first installment doesn’t have the series title because it also works great as a stand alone.

Over twenty years ago, I began the series of which Painter’s Pride is the first book. I started these books with a simple idea: what if LGBTQ people from all over a certain geographical area all had one touchstone: a drag queen named Griffin whose own dark past leads her to seek out other broken souls? The series, when complete, will include the following: two full-length novels and five or six novellas. In addition, there will be other “shorts” like Painter’s Pride centered around the holidays in the lives of the characters.

Here’s a little about the one novel and novella that are finished and should be published in 2019:

First story: The Prince and the Painter: This is the story of Jason and Aaron, the couple from Painter’s Pride, and how they find each other during Aaron’s first year of college.

Blurb: Aaron Spencer grew up keeping secrets. The depth of his family’s poverty is the least. When his boyfriend-in-the-closet is murdered and Aaron is raped by one of the murderers, he buries it in the hopes that if he leaves town, he’ll be able to put it all behind him.

Jason Cooper also lost a friend to that murderer. Fully living in the sunlight as a bisexual man, he is taken by Aaron’s grace and androgynous beauty at once. He raws the younger man to him and together they begin a new life.

But the man who raped Aaron still wants him—and this time he means to keep his prize. Can Aaron and Jason triumph over such despotic lust and come to their own love?

Second story: This second story, a novella, is finished but has no title as of yet. (Titles are one of my weaknesses and I may turn the finding of a title into a contest.)

Blurb: Krys is trans, f2m. Krys has cancer, although it is in remission. When he meets an oncologist-to-be who is sexy, passionate, and kind, Krys falls for him immediately.

Daiden enjoys Krys’s company, but Krys’s lingering belief that he’s going to die and leave Daiden as others have left both men in the past makes it impossible for him to truly get close to the person he dreams of day and night.

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Emily Carrington

Jason Cooper slung his satchel over one of the sturdy pegs of the oak coat tree. That piece of furniture had been a gift from his brother, Chris, who ran a carpentry business back in their hometown of Lilacville, New York. It could hold at least three heavy bags without tipping over. Jason and his two roommates had repeatedly tested that claim and never found it false.

“So?” one of his roommates, Daiden, asked as he poked his head out of the bedroom he shared with his husband, Krys. “Was your scouting venture successful?” Tousle-haired and bleary-eyed, he’d clearly just woken up. Considering his usual twelve-hour shifts as one of NYC’s best oncologists, Jason didn’t blame him for sleeping in the middle of the day.

“Where’s Krys?” he countered as he kicked off his sandals and left them beside the coat tree. It was a Saturday; he should be home.

“Last I knew, he was going shopping. He said we needed to make a good impression on your guest.”

Good impression. Yeah, right. Krys and Daiden had done nothing but needle Jason about his two-year, long-distance relationship with Aaron. Not because they didn’t know and like Aaron but because… Well, each had his reasons. Krys thought Aaron would miss living in the country too much to ever settle down in Manhattan. Daiden was of a mind that Aaron was too “proud about being poor” to ever live in a vaulted-ceilinged, hardwood-floored apartment with Jason. “The only way he’ll ever settle in is if he strikes gold with his paintings first thing.”

Jason sort of believed Daiden.

“So, how did it go?” Daiden asked.

“I got the tickets. Are you sure I can borrow your picnic blanket?”

“Absolutely. And the hamper too. There’s nothing like sitting out under the sun in Central Park and enjoying a little al fresco lunch.”

Jason was fully aware of the tension crawling up the back of his neck. Even though the tickets had been free, it was a “donations expected” concert put on by the Philharmonic. All proceeds would go to Manhattan’s underprivileged schools for their music programs. Ninety percent of the public institutions in NYC were disadvantaged. Jason worked at one of these schools. Not only had his choice two years ago given him a trial by fire, but his student loans had been forgiven.

He would simply have to find a way to slip the orchestra money without Aaron knowing how much. Because Aaron would only be able to afford a dollar or two.

Jason went into his bedroom and shoved everything in the closet over to the left. Then he began extracting hangers. Aaron was as much of a neat freak as he was; it simply wouldn’t do for his week’s worth of clothes to be crammed into the suitcase during those seven days.

Aaron didn’t visit often and, because of his school schedule, neither did Jason. But now Aaron had said he was ready to take the plunge. After his final semester of school in the fall, he would be moving in with Jason, Daiden, and Krys.

Jason could hardly be more thrilled by the prospect. Just so long as Aaron’s “I have to pay for everything myself” streak of pride didn’t drive him crazy, he could see them settling down together happily. He’d loved Aaron since nearly their first meeting and he could only see joy in any future they made together.

Once he was done preparing the closet, he triple-checked his nightstand for condoms and lube. For six months after Aaron had been raped, they’d used condoms in case the monster had AIDS. They’d both started to enjoy not having to change the sheets as frequently.

Only when he was ensuring that all the squares in his quilt were perfectly straight and flat did Jason admit he was trying to kill time before Aaron’s bus arrived. The fact that Aaron wasn’t coming until tomorrow underlined Jason’s nervousness. Aaron had seen this room in its summer neatness and its mid-school-year disorder. Yes, but last time he wasn’t getting ready to move in here. I want to show him my best face.

* * *

Jason had always asked him to wait in the bus station. Today especially Aaron didn’t mind since he had luggage and it was ten blocks to Jason’s house. On those occasions when Aaron’s bus got in before sunrise, he understood his boyfriend’s caution.

He really didn’t mind waiting for Jason under normal circumstances. It was just the guy scoping him out from three chairs down. He’d gotten on the bus about an hour before this final stop and he’d sat next to Aaron. There hadn’t been many other open seats so Aaron hadn’t argued. But the guy reeked of cologne and he kept trying to chat Aaron up. Once they’d reached their destination and Aaron hadn’t given the man more than his first name and the news that he was going to visit his boyfriend, he’d assumed that would be the end of the matter. But here the dude was, actually approaching him with a sneaky little grin.

He plopped down right next to Aaron, nudging Aaron’s foot with his boot. “Yeah, you know, your ‘boyfriend’” — Aaron could hear the sarcasm quotes –”isn’t here yet. We could go get a cup of coffee.”

Aaron pulled his suitcase closer. He wasn’t really afraid the reprobate would steal it, that didn’t seem to be what he was after, but having the luggage close made him feel safer. “No thank you. Jason will be here soon.”

“If he really loved you, he would have been waiting.”

Jason usually was waiting. Aaron felt a twinge of unease. Not that he believed Jason didn’t love him but it was so unlike Jason to be late for anything.

The hand on his knee startled him. And when it scooted higher, he stiffened.

“Blow me,” the guy whispered. “We’ll go in an alley — I know one nearby. I’ll pay you $50. How would that be?”

Aaron got up, stumbled over his suitcase, and almost fell. Did he look that poor?

“Whoa.” The man was right after Aaron, catching his arm in an iron grip. “Relax. I can’t be the first guy you’ve blown for cash.”

He did think Aaron was that poor. Or that he looked like a prostitute.

“Aaron!” Jason shoved his way between them, acting like he didn’t even see the jerk, although he did take the time to discreetly break the hold on Aaron’s bicep. “I’m sorry I’m late. My alarm didn’t go off.”

Aaron forced himself not to sag against his lover. He looked at the man — and saw him slinking away. Aaron glanced down and saw his suitcase was still where it belonged.

“Are you okay?”

Aaron nodded. “I just… Some guys don’t know no means no.” He decided not to tell Jason he’d been mistaken for a prostitute. He wasn’t wearing anything revealing, although his jeans were a little tight because he found that style the most comfortable.

He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

He’d seen the inside of Jason’s apartment before, of course, but Aaron couldn’t help seeing it with fresh eyes. In less than six months, he’d be living here. The hardwood floors, the crown moldings, the built-ins… this place was too beautiful for the likes of him.

That’s not quite true. I deserve as much as anyone else. I survived Vance’s attacks and kidnapping as well as Isaiah’s attention. It’s just that I haven’t earned this yet. Maybe I should have tried to become a teacher.

“Aaron!” Daiden appeared, grinning. He was dressed for work already and had his lunch bag in one hand, his briefcase in the other. “Glad you made it safe.”

Krys was just behind him, dressed in a conservative suit. He’d stopped teaching at State University of New York’s Besker College in favor of working for the United Nations full time about a year ago. He looked good. His second bout of cancer must be abating. He grinned at Aaron. “You looked a little peaked.”

Aaron tried to shrug it off. “Getting up at one to catch a bus at two is a little rough,” he admitted.

“Jason has all summer off,” Daiden said as he headed for the door. “You could have taken a later bus.”

Which would have been more expense. “I don’t mind,” he answered.

Krys and Daiden disappeared out the door.

And Jason came to Aaron’s side, taking his hand and kissing it. “Are you really okay?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Emily Carrington has been writing m/m erotic romance (specializing in urban fantasy) since 2010. She is currently branching out into the other letters of the LGBTQ rainbow. She lives in Maryland with her guide dog. For short stories about the main and side characters in her books, please visit her website.

Website: emilycarrington.com/

Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/4619715.Emily_Carrington

Facebook: facebook.com/emily.carrington.370

Twitter twitter.com/CarringtonEmily

Silent Knight / Sleepless Knight by Gale Stanley #NewRelease #LGBT @changelingpress @galestanley

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Cover art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Gay Romance, Multiple Partners, Holiday

Length: Box Set

Page Count: 145

 

Publisher’s Note: Silent Knight, Sleepless Knight (Duet) contains the previously published novellas Silent Knight and Sleepless Knight.

 

Silent Knight

Paul Stanton thought he had it all, a great job, a beautiful condo and a stable relationship with his boss, but when his lover dumps him for another man, Paul is forced to rethink his life. Rather than spend the holidays alone in San Francisco he visits his childhood home in rural Pennsylvania. But only a few days with his family is enough to convince Paul that you can’t go home again.

Paul leaves for the airport in the midst of a snowstorm. Stranded in the woods, a chance meeting with a hunter is his only option for survival. Paul knows the type, a backwoods bigot just like the men he grew up with, but what choice does he have? A few days with the hunter convinces Paul there’s more to Andy Reynolds than meets the eye. But is it enough to bind two men who have nothing in common except their sex?

 

Sleepless Knight

Andy and Paul are totally committed to each other, but when the two-year itch infects their relationship, Paul becomes distant and refuses to talk about it. Andy arranges a much needed vacation, but on the way home they pick up a hitchhiker who’s willing to trade sex for a roof over his head. Andy will do anything to make Paul happy, even if it means bringing another man into their bed. But is a threesome really the answer? Or will it drive them further apart?

Teaser 3

Excerpt:

 

Andy studied his houseguest. Under different circumstances, Paul’s features would be extremely appealing, but right now, his high cheekbones were an unhealthy shade of pale, and his sensual lips were blue. He hoped Paul would accept his help. “Okay, let’s get you into bed.”

“I usually get dinner first,” Paul mumbled.

Paul’s attempt at humor was a good sign. Andy chuckled. “I’ll give you something to nibble on later, city boy.”

Andy helped his unexpected guest to the sleeping alcove. It was only across the room, but Paul leaned heavily on Andy, and by the time he sat on the bed, sweat beaded on Paul’s forehead. The man was obviously exhausted, but he tried to push Andy away when he attempted to undress Paul.

“Come on, city boy. You need to warm up.”

“I’m good.” Paul’s sentence ended with a shiver.

“You’re not good. You’re hypothermic and maybe frostbitten. Let me take your clothes off, and maybe we’ll save a few body parts.”

Andy’s harsh words must have gotten through to Paul. He stopped protesting and allowed Andy to undress him. When only Paul’s boxers remained, Andy surveyed his body with a clinical eye. There were no disturbing signs of frostbite. He just needed to rest and warm up. Paul might be cold, but he was also incredibly hot. Andy couldn’t help checking out his houseguest’s perfect golden tan. Obviously, the man was from a warmer locale. And Paul’s lean, muscular body, sprinkled with light brown hair, shouted gym rat. When Paul lay down on his back, Andy was surprised to see an erection escaping Paul’s boxers. He reached for the waistband to pull the shorts off.

Paul rose on his elbows and swore under his breath. “See anything you like?”

For a limited time, Silent Knight / Sleepless Knight is available at a new release discount at Changeling Press.

 

Available at

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

 

 

Author Bio and Links

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Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

 

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

 

Happy Reading!

#NewRelease – Virgin Under the Mistletoe @AuthorPaigeW #Christmas #Romance #NewAdult

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Danika

Killian Reid. Even saying his name makes my panties damp. He has to be the sexiest man I’ve ever met, even if he is twenty-one years older than me. I’ve been crushing on him since I was fifteen. For six years, my Christmas wish has been for Killian to notice me. I never thought it was possible – until now.

Killian

Holy hell! It was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips under some mistletoe, but damn. Little Danika Parker isn’t all that little anymore, with curves in all the right places. I’m pretty sure I’ll be reliving that hot as fuck kiss for a while. This Christmas, the only present I want to unwrap is her.

Stand-alone novella, no cliffhanger, no cheating, dual POV

Amazon / B&N / iTunes / Kobo

Excerpt

Killian hung some mistletoe in the living room doorway and I smiled sadly. I wouldn’t be sharing kisses with anyone this year. The only people likely to stop by my house were either my friend, Bethany, or my parents. Kissing any of them, other than on the cheek, was out of the question.

Killian’s brow arched again and he pointed up at it. “You’re just going to leave me hanging here? It’s tradition.”

“I think the tradition is that if two people get caught under the mistletoe they have to share a kiss. You’re all alone over there.”

“You could rectify that.”

Smiling a little, I walked toward him and stopped under the mistletoe. Even on tiptoe I couldn’t reach him, but he bent down and met me halfway. I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his head at the last minute and our lips met. Fire sizzled through me at the contact and I clutched at his shirt to hold on. Killian’s lips moved against mine and his tongue flicked out, asking for entry. I parted my lips and welcomed him in.

My toes curled against the carpet as his kiss left me dizzy and wanting more. My thoughts spun in different directions as I tried to process what was happening. He’d never shown me any interest before, but I knew this was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life. Kissing Killian was better than anything I’d ever imagined.

Killian drew away, his arm still around my waist. His eyes were dark with passion as he smiled down at me. I felt like I should say something, but my brain was still catching up. He pressed another kiss to my lips then backed away, shoving his hands back into his pockets. My hand lifted and touched my lips as I watched him.

“Now you’ve had your first Christmas kiss of the year,” he said.

“It will likely be my only Christmas kiss this year.”

“Pity. You do it so well.”

My cheeks warmed again.

“Well, Miss Parker. Anything else you need help with around here?”

I could think of something he could help me with, but I didn’t think he was referring to my damp panties. I’d have been more than happy for him to take them off and make me scream his name the rest of the afternoon. I might have sworn off guys, but Killian was in a category all his own. If he wanted to rock my world, I would let him.

“The only thing I have left is the dining room,” I said. “It’s just a tablecloth and placemats though, so I can handle that.”

“Then I guess my work here is done. Call me if you need anything else.”

Anything like what exactly? Was that an open-ended invitation to call him, or only for Christmas related things?

Killian hesitated only a moment before giving me another smirk and walking out the door. I peered through the front window and watched him back down the driveway, heading out. When I couldn’t see his truck anymore, I faced my empty home. A house that felt far emptier now that he’d been in it and then left.

What would it take to make a guy like Killian stick around?

SPOTLIGHT: The Power of Peppermint by L.D. Blakeley #MMRomance #HolidayRead

Thank you for having me on today to tell you about The Power of Peppermint! This happy little holiday novella is a true labour of love for me. It’s my first self-published title as well as my first Christmas release. So I hope you enjoy!

The Power of Peppermint by L.D. Blakeley

The Power of Peppermint by L.D. Blakeley
Available: December 14, 2016
Published: LDB Books
ASIN: B01MRX7F8F

The most wonderful time of the year?

When Jamison Pritchett is roped into replacing the mall photographer at Santa’s Village a week before Christmas, he’s certain he’ll be spending the holidays recovering from a nervous breakdown. A throng of sugar-frenzied kids might be enough to send this uptight photographer back into the darkroom permanently. Inappropriate thoughts about his far-too-attractive—and far-too-young—assistant aren’t helping fight that urge to hide, either.

For Noah Hawkins, adulting is a snap. Too bad relationships aren’t. With his business temporarily closed for repairs, he’s happy to help his sister out of a jam, even if the costume he’s given to wear borders on obscene. Constantly being mistaken for a teenager is no treat either, especially when he discovers his temporary new co-worker is sexy as hell and 15 years his senior.

Can Noah convince Jamison that age is just a number? Or will Jamison resist the gift Santa seems to be handing him on a platter?

Add The Power of Peppermint by L.D. Blakeley to your Goodreads!

Where to Buy:

Amazon
ARe
Smashwords

Excerpt:

The wiggle he gave as his cell phone rang, elicited a flurry of giggles from the children who were patiently awaiting their turn. He’d tucked it into the waistband of his tunic because, well, honestly there was nowhere else to stash it.

“Speak of the devil,” he answered, seeing his sister’s face on the phone’s display. “Woah, woah, cool your jets.” Noah held the phone an inch or so from his ear. His sister’s voice was anything but dulcet, especially when she was blasting him with an earful of — wait, what did she say?

“Where are you?” Abi demanded.

“At the mall in all my elfin glory.”

“Well, how come Jamison just told me you bailed?”

Her voice had zero chill and Noah knew better than to mess with her too much. “What are you talking about? I’m looking at him right now. Have been for hours.” As though to punctuate Noah’s sentence, Jamison looked up at that exact moment. Noah couldn’t help himself and flashed what he hoped was a dazzling smile.

Dropping his voice just in case it carried, he continued. “P.S., how come you never mentioned how hot he was? I mean, he’s wound tighter than a two-dollar watch, but he’s damn pretty. You did say he’s gay, right?”

“He is. And leave him alone.”

“Hang on a second, you’re talking to me like I’m a delinquent teenager instead of someone helping you out of a jam. Remind me again how you roped me into this gig?”

“You’re good with kids, know your way around a camera, and could use the distraction. And you love me.

Noah laughed at her bullet-pointed accuracy. “I don’t love you that much. Try again.”

“Because I’m letting you live under my roof, smartass. And as long as you’re under my roof—”

“I know, I know,” he cut her off with a chuckle. “But I might have to amuse myself by flirting with the J in A & J Photography.” He could almost hear the impending warning, so he didn’t give her a chance. “Sorry, gotta go. Santa’s almost done for the day and requires my assistance. Bye-bye.”

She hated it when he did that. Which made it all that more fun when he did. Just to be on the safe side, however, he turned the ringer off before tucking his phone back into his patent leather belt.

There were only a few kids left in line when Mac gave him the wrap-it-up signal, so he latched the velvet rope behind the last of them to keep out stragglers. As much fun as the munchkins were, Noah was looking forward to getting home, getting showered and putting on real pants.

When the last print of the day had been handed over to a beaming young couple and their chirpy toddler, he locked up the till and started packing things away for the night. Within the first few days on the job, he’d gotten the routine down to a science and was finished in no time.

Jamison was still crouched by a tripod busily loading lenses into his camera bags so he wandered over to help. He didn’t seem the type to let anyone touch his gear but Noah figured he’d at least ask. It was as good an excuse as any to talk to the guy.

“Need a hand?”

“I’m just about finished. Thanks.” Jamison zipped up the bag and stood to his full height.

With absolutely no shame, Noah gave him a head-to-toe once-over. Damn.

“I’m Noah by the way.” He grinned, knowing full well by the slight blush on Jamison’s face that he’d been caught. He hadn’t been going for subtle. “Abi’s brother.”

“Oh. Oh.” Jamison’s eyes widened, no doubt in recognition of the name. “Jamison. Hi.” He cleared his throat and held his out his hand.

“Nice working with you today.” He held onto Jamison’s hand a beat or two longer than necessary and gave him a puckish smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he added with a wink.

For good measure, he added a bit of sway to his hips as he walked away. He’d be willing to bet good money Jamison was watching his ass.

❆❆❆❆

About the Author:

L.D. Blakeley is a pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind. She loves horror movies, hot sex, and happily ever afters. She’s easily distracted by shiny things, and is a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune.

In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men. Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in downtown Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.

Find L.D. online:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads