Dire Wolves (Box Set) by Cynthia Sax, Lena Austin, and Shelby Morgen #boxset #PNR #BBW #interracial #werewolves #shifters #vampires #LGBTbooks @changelingpress @CynthiaSax @Lena_Austin

Dire Wolves (Box Set) (Dire Wolves Multi-Author 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Blind Spot by Cynthia Sax: Years ago, Pavel lost his eye, three members of his pack and his position as alpha. Can Maggy help him find a reason to live again?

Whiteout by Shelby Morgen: Zan gives John a reason to want to live as a man again. But before he can make that kind of promise, he’s got unfinished business to take care of.

Silence by Lena Austin: Noel Miller, a vampire with a few scars of his own, wants to be more than Cam’s sign language interpreter. If only the werewolf will let him into his life — and heart.

White Heat by Shelby Morgen: Heather Grant’s got far too much experience working with stubborn males. She figures it would serve both Alphas right if their pride blows their cover. But someone’s got to salvage the mission.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for August 9th at:

   

 

PRAISE FOR DIRE WOLVES BOX SET

“…a collection that grabs the reader, takes them on a journey, and ensures some cold showers. Erotic, captivating, and deliciously carnal are how I would describe The Dire Wolves Anthology. It is definitely worth reading, worth adding to one’s reading library, and well worth re-reading.”

— 4 Stars from Nikki, Sensuous Reviews
cooltext315316299636835

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019
Excerpt from Silence by Lena Austin

“Danse Macabre” was a lousy choice for a ring tone, but Detective Cameron Douglas always thought about it when he had the least amount of time to change the ring to something else. The tune was the last he’d ever hear. Cam didn’t know that sad fact, or he’d have changed the ring sooner.

Cam snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open as soon as he saw it was his boss, Lt. Kraynak. “Hey, Mark! You caught me just leaving the mayor’s office.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s voice always sounded nervous, but at that moment, he sounded as squeaky as a girl. Cam always wondered if Mark was as closet gay as Cam himself. “How’d it go?”

Cam sighed. The investigation into the death of the mayor’s secretary, Margaret Lund, was supposed to be kept very quiet and low-key. “We got the blood from her apartment at the lab, looking for DNA. They seem to be consistent with the defensive marks found on her body despite floating around in the St. John’s River for a while. I’ve got a few good leads.” He had to be vague. Cam couldn’t exactly tell his boss he was a werewolf and he’d caught an odd, masculine scent in Margaret’s apartment. He knew any sort of masculine odor didn’t belong in that apartment because Margaret and his mother had been lovers for over twenty years. Not exactly what you want the whole world to know. Mom had been in the closet all her life, and he wasn’t about to out her when she was mourning “Aunt Maggie’s” death. Dad would turn over in his grave, the day care she’d run for fifteen years would close, and her life would be in ruins. What she and Maggie had enjoyed just wasn’t ever going to be public, and that wasn’t admissible evidence anyway.

He could see it now. Him, on the witness stand. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m a werewolf you see, and I sniffed this odor…” He winced, even to himself.

“I don’t like it, Cam. You shouldn’t be on this case. Ms. Lund was your mother’s best friend. You could be called prejudiced in court.” Mark popped another gumball in his mouth. Cam heard it rattle against his teeth before it crackled as he chewed it into oblivion. Mark’d been trying to quit smoking again, and kept a gumball bank on his desk.

“I don’t like it, either, Mark. Where His Honor got the idea I’d be the only detective who could do the job is beyond me.” Cam was in sight of his car at last. The covered parking garage across the street from City Hall was a piece of shit like all the rest of downtown. Half the security cameras didn’t work at the best of times, and the roof leaked whenever it rained. So where was he parked? On the roof. In the rain. Of course. So he was wet. It was Florida. Not like he would melt. He was a werewolf, not a witch, and this wasn’t Hollyweird.

The beep in his ear made him jump, and the caller ID told him it was Mom. “Hey, I’m at my car. Hang on a sec.” Cam flipped over to his mother’s call and sat down on a bench about fifty feet from his car, in the shelter covering the elevator. “Hi, Mom.” He frowned and noticed the hood of his car was slightly ajar. That was odd. He distinctly remembered changing the oil the previous Sunday and slamming the hood closed because he hated working in the hot sun.

He never heard her answer. Hell, he never heard anything except the biggest boom on the planet.

Waking up wasn’t like someone flipped on a light switch. It was more like a lazy Sunday morning when you didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything in particular, so you could roll over and laze in bed. That is, until your bladder or some other bodily need woke you up.

What woke him up was pain. Cam had the worst headache ever, even beyond hangovers and mild concussions from playing rugby. Cam felt like he’d been run over by a semi, too, with a backache from lying in one position too long on top of assorted injuries. Worst of all was the ringing in his ears. Tinnitus, he guessed. Not bad, since Cam had to assume he’d survived that explosion. Hell, he counted himself lucky when he opened his eyes and saw his left leg in bandages, not a cast. If a headache, a bum leg, and a case of tinnitus were all he had to suffer through, Cam was happy.

A nurse peeked in. She saw Cam was awake and smiled at him. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears. She frowned when Cam told her she’d have to speak up, and would she bring him something for the headache and tinnitus? She turned around and walked out without another word. She was back with something she shot into his IV. Whatever it was put him out like a light. Pain, tinnitus, and consciousness all went away at once.

When next Cam could put two words together in a coherent sentence, the clock on the wall and the darkness out the window gave him a clue it was 7:30 PM, not AM. He’d slept away the whole day. Great. Now his ears were sore.

A young man in a lab coat read a book in the corner chair, even though the only light source was the fluorescent above the head of Cam’s bed. The guy’s eyesight must have been superlative. He looked up slowly, and Cam was completely arrested — pardon the pun — by his eyes. They were big, blue and so world-weary Cam wanted to — maybe buy the kid a cup of coffee and give him a sympathetic ear. Then the newcomer smiled, and the world was all sunshine and cheer. The young man tapped on the keyboard of his laptop without taking his gaze off Cam’s face.

Cam moved restlessly under that intense blue gaze that did not in the least match with the smile. Cam opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when the screen on a laptop left on his lap table brightened. He frowned and studied the screen. “Can you read this?” Surprised, Cam nodded without thinking.

The blue-eyed man smiled and nodded. “Good. How’s your tinnitus?” lit up on the screen in a standard IM chat feature of a common website.

“Um… should I answer aloud?” Cam felt suddenly adrift in a strange sea, unsure of himself for the first time since college. Still, he did an internal check, and the buzzing still filled his ears like a thousand crickets on speed. “Yep, still have the crickets.” The realization hit him. “The explosion caused this tinnitus, didn’t it?”

“Yes, Mr. Douglas. Please speak more softly.” The IM kept up easily, and the young man’s hands flew silently but rapidly over the tiny keyboard. Damn, this guy was good.

Oops. Cam wasn’t stupid. He knew that those with hearing issues often spoke too loudly, trying to over-compensate for their loss. He modified his volume. “Um. Sorry.” He clung to the thin thread of hope that the tinnitus was causing his hearing loss, but he knew a bunch of cops who’d neglected ear protection at the shooting range once too often. Tinnitus could be permanent, or worse, the symptom of something much, much worse.

The IM lit up with several lines in rapid succession. “My name is Noel Miller, and I am your ENT therapist.” Now the cheer was gone, and the face serious.

Cam’s heart hammered, and he swallowed to help his suddenly dry mouth. Fear, ice-cold and cruel, raced up his spine. Part of him was grateful he still had painkillers in his system. Deep inside himself, a little kid threw a major temper tantrum, even if he held himself rigidly under control. “I’m deaf, aren’t I?”

 

More from Lena at Changeling Press…

Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you’ll have many tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena’s a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba — she’s got a lifetime of “Research material!”

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won’t listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something? See all her books at http://www.LenaAustin.com.

More from Cynthia at Changeling Press…

Some girls dreamed of knights in shining armor. Cynthia Sax dreamed of dragons, magnificent flying dragons. Being a bloodthirsty little thing, Cynthia usually dreamed of these dragons eating the damsels in distress. Now, she dreams of them doing… ahhh… more pleasurable things.

Cynthia is happily married. Although her hubby has not yet shown any shapeshifting abilities, he does buy her medieval princess costumes to wear around the house. Cynthia’s rather traditional mother-in-law now always calls before visiting. You can learn more about Cynthia by visiting her website at www.CynthiaSax.com, her blog at http://tasteofcyn.com, or email her directly at Cynthia@CynthiaSax.com.

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.

 

 

Start Me Up by Megan Slayer #PNR #scifi #Gay #LGBTbooks @MeganSlayer @changelingpress

Start Me Up (Set In Stone Multi-Author 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Chris Jordan swore when his partner died in January of 1979, he’d never find another lover. He didn’t want another one. But six months later, he still yearns for the man he loved.

Chris finds a letter from Steve telling him to visit Start Me Up, an electronics store. What could his partner have planned? What he finds at the store blows his mind, but will he be able to accept the desires of his partner — especially a seemingly robotic version of Steve?

Only time and patience will tell if these two lovers can find the passion they shared or if Steve’s death meant the end of everything.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for August 9th at:

   

 

PRAISE FOR START ME UP

“If you like stories with a touch of magic, if you think that two men who want to build a life together deserve a chance to do so, no matter what Fate may have decided, and if you’re looking for a slightly mysterious, entertaining, and very sweet read, then you will probably like this short story.”

— Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews
cooltext315720864903307

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Megan Slayer

1979

“I love you, Stephen Kyle.” Chris Jordan rested his head on the wall of the shower stall. He wound his fingers around his dick and stroked himself. Every nerve ending tingled and his body buzzed. He cupped his balls in his other hand and widened his stance. His knees wobbled. The more he thrust into his fingers, the closer he got to coming apart. He needed this. Needed to be wanted and excited.

He rested his head against the tiles and groaned. Dear God, he wanted a dick in his ass. Wanted to come apart and be held. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. His throat ached.

Fucking hell. He gritted his teeth. “Steve,” he bit out. His strokes turned feral and he tensed. The muscles in his legs trembled. Heat overwhelmed him, despite the chilly water. The shiver started low in his body and overwhelmed him in a second as the climax hit.

Chris bowed his head and opened his eyes. Cum shot across the stall and down the curtain. Cold water sprayed down on him, but did little to bring him out of the post-orgasm fervor. Everything within him sagged. He slid to the floor and drew his knees to his chest. He rested his forehead on his knees and sighed.

He missed his lover — his partner, Steve.

Chris blinked back tears and reached up to turn off the water. He needed to get back to his life. But was it really living if his partner wasn’t there? He finally scrambled to his feet, then yanked the towel from the rack. Being alone sucked.

He missed Steve. They were supposed to be looking forward to the 1980s together and proving to the world that gay couples could grow old together. Not now. Not since Steve got the gay cancer and died. The epidemic had ripped through the gay community, seeming to strike at random at first and ravaging friends — with seemingly no cure. At least there hadn’t been a cure in time to save Steve.

Chris left the bathroom and dropped the towel on the floor. If his partner had been there, he would’ve reminded Chris to pick it up. “Hang it on the rack,” he’d say. “It won’t dry unless it’s hung up.”

He’d get there. He yanked a pair of underwear and running shorts from the dresser. Once he donned the clothing, he snatched the towel from the carpet. He draped the towel across the curtain rod. Not the rack, but who cared?

He grabbed a T-shirt from the laundry basket. Doing chores wasn’t as fun without Steve around. When his partner was still there, they’d turn the tasks into games. Whoever lost made love to the other. Inevitably they both won, even if they lost.

He shrugged the shirt over his head and stuck his arms through the sleeves, then sank onto the bed. According to his friend Dom, he had to get back into life. Sure. Easy for Dom to say — he spent his nights at the clubs and never went home alone. He also never stuck with the same guy or girl for more than a few days. Commitment freaked Dom out. Not Chris. He needed a partner. As soon as he met Steve, he knew — he’d found his partner.

He stared at the photos still stuck in the frame around the mirror. Him and Steve grinning in the sand on the beach at Maumee, standing in front of one of the roller coasters at the local amusement park, at the reception for Steve’s sister, Mimi. His heart ached. He and Steve were expected to come together, but to tell everyone they were just friends. Steve’s family never accepted them as a couple.

He’d memorized every detail of Steve’s face and knew his partner inside and out. The images comforted him. He crossed the room and touched the frame around the photo of him and Steve in their suits. He noticed the envelope behind the picture and winced. He’d been given the envelope during the reading of Steve’s will. The only reason he’d even been invited to the reading had been because their mutual friend, Lew, had written the will and insisted on giving Chris the letter or whatever had been contained in the envelope.

Should he finally crack the seal? Six months since Steve’s death hadn’t made the hurt go away or even lessen a bit. He touched the corner of the envelope. Fear hit him hard. He’d put the thing away and tried to forget about it, but every time he looked at the photos, his curiosity piqued. Would there be something bad in the letter? Something good? He’d never know until he opened it.

He left the bedroom in favor of the kitchen. If he was going to finally open the envelope, he needed wine. Beer. Whatever he had in the fridge containing alcohol. Hell, he’d take whiskey right about now and he wasn’t into the harder stuff.

He poured dark red liquid into a plastic tumbler, then climbed onto the counter to sit. He kept the glass beside him, but didn’t drink.

His heart hammered and he flexed his fingers a couple of times before he picked up the envelope.

“Here goes nothin’,” he murmured. He tore open the back and pressed his lips together. A piece of paper slipped free and fluttered onto his lap…

 

 

More from Megan at Changeling Press …

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.

New Releases at Changeling Press #RomanceBooks #bikerbooks #LGBTQ #UrbanFantasy #PNR #scifi #aliens #NewRelease@changelingpress

For those who already follow my blog, I apologize for the radio silence the last few weeks. Between my laptop being held hostage by Geek Squad (whatever is wrong is taking forever to fix), and moving to a new home (took a week to get them to come out and set up the new internet), it feels like forever since I’ve been able to get online. Since I was unable to post the new releases from Changeling Press the last two weeks, I’m listing them all below!

Cain (Bones MC 1)

 

Cain by Marteeka Karland
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Contemporary Romance, MC Romance, New Adult

WARNING! If you don’t want hotter than hell alpha males, you need to move on. This is a tale of gruff love. A rough around the edges biker claiming the woman he wants no matter the consequences. If you want lust so strong it will melt your panties, then read on!

GET IT HERE

 

Billionaire Werewolf Ate My Fiancé (Billionaire Werewolf 1)

 

Billionaire Werewolf Ate My Fiance by Crymsyn Hart
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, BBW, Dark Desire, Werewolves

The loss of her fiancé, Greyson, from an animal attack carved a hole in Sadie Matthews, body and soul. She seeks rest and relaxation at an exclusive resort, hoping for a chance to heal. However, things immediately go wrong when the desk clerk refuses to even hand over the key to her room.

Elijah Dane’s not the rescuing kind, but something about Sadie drives his wolf crazy. All he can think of is eating her up. After a wild night together, Elijah warns Sadie to stay inside during the full moon. When Sadie runs, he knows he must let her go. Can he get over his insatiable desire for her or will his wolf go to extremes to hunt her down and claim her for his own?

GET IT HERE

 

Melt My Heart (Duet)

 

Melt my Heart (Duet) by Kate Steele
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Contemporary Romance, Gay

Thaw in Winter: Vacationing at a remote cabin in the woods, Mark Bartel gets more than he bargained for when he comes across a camper who puts to shame anything nature has to offer. Joe Moning is tall, blond, built, and utterly gorgeous, but the gold wedding band Joe wears puts to rest any notions Mark could entertain about something more happening between them. Until Joe kisses him.

An injury during an unexpected snowstorm leaves Joe with partial amnesia. He hasn’t forgotten his attraction to Mark but he can’t remember the answer to the biggest stumbling block between them. Who wears the mate to the ring he so openly sports?

Darling Brat: When architect Mark Bartel returns home from a business trip, Joe, his lover of six months, presents him with a proposition: Joe wants them to build their own house and move in together. What was supposed to end with mind blowing sex instead becomes a comedy of errors, but Joe shows Mark it’s going to take a lot more than some mud and a temper tantrum to keep Joe from getting exactly what he wants: the heart, soul, and body of his darling brat.

GET IT HERE

 

The Case of the Deadly Arrow Part 1 (Mai-Fly Mysteries 2)

 

The Case of the Deadly Arrow by Stephanie Burke
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, PNR, Urban Fantasy, Multicultural & Interracial, Bisexual Pansexual and Gender Non-Conforming, Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures

All Mai-Mai wants is to be left alone to run her coffee shop in peace, but disaster strikes again, this time in the form of a bigoted restaurant owner, social media crazies, and the biggest threat of all, a flaming arrow aimed at her head.

Mai becomes trapped in a deadly game with an assassin as she tries to get rid of the riots on her doorstep and understand the beast within her with the intimate help of a Dryad named Ptris. Can she maintain her relationship with her Gremlin Ry-Ry and uncover the mysteries of the deadly arrows before one of them hits their target?

GET IT HERE

 

Terran Temptation (Terran 1)

 

Terran Temptation by Echo Ishii
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Sci-fi Romance, Alien Encounters, BBW, Men and Women in Uniform, Multicultural & Interracial

Dr. Annalisha Montague has earned a glowing reputation as a Terran scientist. She has also attracted the attention of two men, a senator who wants her for her bloodline and a Terran commander who wants her heart and soul. Will she choose to honor her bloodline or her heart?

 

GET IT HERE

 

Vasquez and James Vol. 2 (Vasquez and James 2)

 

Vasquez and James Vol. 2 by Lou Sylvre
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Contemporary Romance, Gay, Multicultural & Interracial

Together, professional badass Luki Vasquez and his husband, textile artist Sonny James, fight to survive and build a family.

Saving Sonny James: The events of the last couple of years have begun to catch up with Luki — loving Sonny James and letting Sonny love him back have left gaps in his emotional armor. Sonny says yes to a European tour with Harold Breslin, a dangerously intelligent promoter whose obsessive desire for Sonny is exceeded only by his narcissism. When Harold’s plan for Sonny turns poisonous, Luki must break free of PTSD and get to France, fit and ready in time to save his husband’s life.

Yes: Professional badass Luki Vasquez and textile artist Sonny James have been married for five years, and despite the sometimes volatile mix, they’re happy. From their first days together, they stood united against deadly enemies and prevailed. But now the deadly enemy they face is the cancer. Sonny tries, but Luki dances with cancer alone — until he gets a startling reminder of the miracle of life.

Because of Jade: Still cancer free after five years, Luki finds out his nephew Josh and wife Ruthie have met a tragic death. Luki and Sonny must help each other learn to parent an unexpected child, Jade, and still nourish the love that has kept them whole for the past ten years. A relative’s claim to Jade threatens the new family, and even if they prevail in court, they could lose their little girl unless they can rescue Jade from evil hands and true peril.

GET IT HERE

 

Merlin's Legacy Vol. 1 (Print) (Merlin's Legacy 4)

 

Merlin’s Legacy by Angela Knight
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures, Multicultural & Interracial, Shapeshifters, Vampires

Master of Seduction: Sheriff’s Deputy Rachel Kent has dreamed of becoming one of the immortal Magekind witches who protect humanity from itself. Nate vows he’ll only agree to complete Rachel’s transformation if she proves she can be trusted with the powers she’ll gain. But as he tests her — and makes love to her with every test she passes — mutual lust becomes something more. Will love be enough to save Rachel’s sanity?

Master of Valor: Handsome Afghan war veteran Duncan Carpenter barely survived a horrifying IED attack that cost him his legs. He gets a second chance at life when he agrees to become an agent of the Magekind. The spell that transforms him also heals his broken body and gives him incredible new abilities. Masara finds her apprentice deliciously seductive — a little bit too much so for her peace of mind. But when Duncan and Masara are asked to help a werewolf cop investigate a murder, the fight for survival drives the couple together, despite Masara’s determination to keep her distance. And what’s with the flying rabid zombie rats?

Master of Fate: Mad Alys is the most powerful seer among the witches of the Magekind. She’s seen a lot of horrors in her visions, but this is the worst: the destruction of the Magekind. The only way to prevent the deaths of everyone she cares about is to allow their worst enemy to kidnap her. Her only hope of rescue is her vampire partner, Davon — the man she loves — and the one she can never have.

AVAILABLE IN PRINT    Read an Excerpt

 

 

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

Once You Go Demon (Once You Go Demon 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

button_get-it-today (1)

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Sean Michael

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

Sold?

Him?

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

Nonsense.

Utter nonsense.

“There must be a mistake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Henchman One turned to Henchman Two, who shrugged.

“Is your master here? He can decide.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet,” Kerr muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Totz. You can go.”

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

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

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

Transferred. Traded. Discarded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

More from Sean at Changeling Press…

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

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

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

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

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

Frost Thaw Encounters by Emily Carrington #kindleunlimited #GayRomance #UrbanFantasy #PNR #LGBT @CarringtonEmily @changelingpress

Frost Thaw Encounters (A Pack of His Own 5)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Frost Thaw. For werewolves, it’s the most sexually charged night of the year.

Charlie and Luis: Frost Thaw is pack alpha Charlie’s favorite holiday, but this year the ceremonies include incorporating the former Rowan Pack into the Tilthos. Pomp and circumstance. And responsibility — especially for Charlie, pack alpha. Which makes sneaking away just before the festivities begin to find Luis, his mate, all that much sweeter.

Ethan and Jeremy: Ethan’s greeting Jeremy’s ex-lover for the first time. Jeremy knows there’s only one way to convince Ethan he’s the only man Jeremy will ever love…

Garrett and Michael: It’s Garrett and Michael’s one year anniversary, and Garrett has bought Michael the perfect Frost Thaw/anniversary gift — a pair of shiny new handcuffs…

 

Borrow with Kindle Unlimited!

button_get-it-today

 

cooltext323576931071680

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

Charlie’s favorite holiday, werewolf-created or human made, was Frost Thaw. But this year’s iteration would be different. Tonight, he would be adding to his pack. The ceremony would be all about incorporating the former Rowan Pack into his pack, the Tilthos pack. Pomp and circumstance. And although there would be time for song and dance throughout the evening, there would be little chance for Charlie to do more than observe. As alpha of the newly increased Tilthos pack, it would be his responsibility to see to it that all the wolves behaved themselves.

So, knowing he wouldn’t be able to truly enjoy himself this evening, he went in search of his mate, Luis, at around one in the afternoon. Technically, both of them should have been at work. But Charlie had called off for “wolf business” and Luis had taken one of his infrequent vacation days for the same. Even though he was a psychic vampire, he was Charlie’s mate. That meant he could claim pack business.

Charlie discovered Luis in their bedroom, stripping.

“Reading my mind?” Charlie asked as he shut the door and locked it.

Luis turned on the stereo and turned it up so the few others in the house wouldn’t hear. “Maybe.” Luis unzipped his fly.

Charlie loved the sound of a zipper. He grinned and went down on his knees before his mate. “I’ve missed tasting you.” And he took almost all of Luis’s thick cock into his mouth.

Luis swayed and moaned, tangling his fingers in Charlie’s short, kinky black hair. “Mm.” He bucked his hips, though gently. “Claim me. Make me yours.”

Charlie smiled as he sat back on his heels. He gave Luis’s glans one last lick, savoring the taste of pre-cum even as the air filled with heady scent made of equal parts chocolate, dark, rich coffee, and Luis’s own scent. The first two aromas were part and parcel of all male psychic vampires, but the third was indescribable bliss.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

“Not staring,” Charlie murmured. “Inhaling.” He grinned when Luis uttered an embarrassed-sounding laugh.

“I’ve never really thought of myself as smelling good. No matter how many times you tell me.”

Charlie stood. “Well, get used to it. You smell like my own private moon garden.” This was a werewolf saying, like “My own corner of heaven.” Charlie had slowly been introducing his mate to all the werewolf sayings. And he shared in Luis’s culture too. He spoke Spanish, specifically Puerto Rican Spanish, but there was so much more than language to share.

Charlie took Luis’s face between his hands and kissed his lover deeply and thoroughly, until they were both breathless and their cocks, Luis’s uncovered and Charlie’s still trapped, seemed to strain toward each other.

Then Charlie stepped back and smiled wolfishly. Hungrily. “Bend over.”

 

Get more from Emily at Changeling Press…

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.

Going Back by Treva Harte #GayRomance #LGBT #secondchances #NewRelease @changelingpress

Going Back (Price of Fame 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Gene Price, former teenage star, has been living the simple life. He’s cut himself off from anyone who knows about him and his former bad reputation. Out of the blue he begins to get death threats. He doesn’t want any part of his past nowadays, but the only one he trusts to find out what’s going on and protect him is Leo, his former bodyguard — the one he’d slept with before he fired him.

Will Leo be wiling to protect Gene? And could he ever be interested in the changed man Gene’s become?

 

button_get-it-today (1)

 

cooltext315720864903307

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Treva Harte

“Been a long time, Leo.” The extra decade looked good on him. He had more muscle — more presence. He wore his suit easily, not like the nervous minder Lane had hired back in the day. There was just enough gray at the temples to make him look distinguished. He’d grown up looking fine.

I found myself rubbing the surgery scar underneath my hair. I thought I’d broken myself of that nervous habit. But I didn’t like the way he was assessing me. Yeah, we both knew the extra decade hadn’t done as much for me. I sure as hell wasn’t the pretty boy people had gone insane for when I was in my teens and early twenties. I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t impressed. It was no more than I expected, and better than the outright disappointment I sometimes got. But it stung a little.

“A long time? Yes.” His voice was deeper now, but he’d talked a little more back then. Smiled a little more.

He wanted to be here even less than I’d wanted to ask for him. My stomach clenched again. What else could I expect? I couldn’t think of anything I’d done then to make him want to see me now. It was too bad that I’d liked him back when I didn’t like anyone much. Since I remembered the way I worked during my glory days, it meant I’d been more of a dick to him than I normally was. And I was a pretty big dick to people.

“I probably should apologize for that long ago time.” My memory was a little spotty, but I remembered a few incidents with him hustling me out of trouble while I did my best to stay back in it. And of course the reason he’d quit.

He looked at me steadily and didn’t say anything.

So I kept talking. “I’m still kind of an asshole, but I like to think my time away from all the glitter has improved my behavior some. People don’t get nearly as pissed off at me now.”

“Death threats usually mean someone is pissed off,” he pointed out.

I took a deep breath. “Well. I suppose there’s that. I was hoping you would tell me not to worry so much about it.”

“Afraid that’s not in my best interest. You hired me and hauled me out here on the tail end of a blizzard because you’ve been worried, and now I’m being paid to worry about it. But whatever. I don’t care about how you feel about these notes as long as you realize I’m in charge of keeping you safe. I’ll do whatever seems necessary.”

“You aren’t much in favor of the customer is always right, are you?” I tried to smile. It wasn’t his words so much as his attitude that stung. I probably had picked the wrong guy for this job.

Strange how disappointing that thought was.

“May I see the originals?” He held out his hand as if I carried the notes next to my heart or something.

I stood up and fumbled in my desk drawer. I didn’t usually use my desk drawers for anything but dumping unwanted mail. I suppose these qualified.

Leo put on reading glasses and set his mouth in an even straighter, grimmer line if that was possible. He read the two of them three times before he looked up.

“They don’t mention why you deserve to die,” he said. “As you say, you’ve been out of the public eye for a decade at least. What have you stirred up recently?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. Seriously. I keep pretty much to routine here. Pay my bills, say hello as needed to the neighbors, feed the dog.”

Leo glanced over at Ozzy, who half-opened his eyes and thumped his tail agreeably. Everyone was Ozzy’s friend. It could be annoying.

“Anything at all?”

I frowned. “I have something in mind, but I haven’t done it yet.”

Leo didn’t say anything. He was good at that.

“Really, the only thing I’ve done recently is start to think about investing in some property near here. There’s talk about rebuilding the only hotel and restaurant within thirty miles. It went out of business a few years ago when the owners retired and sold to some New Yorker who promptly went bankrupt in the middle of trying to make the place look like New York. It could bring in some jobs and money, but I wouldn’t want it done stupidly with some new development company that goes bust. I only got as far as asking Lane to look into pulling out some principal from my savings if I thought it might pan out. But people around here want the hotel back. No one local would be threatening me. Actually, if they did, they’d probably just come after me with a shotgun. There’s plenty of those around here.”

“Nothing else?”

“Jesus. I live by myself and I keep things quiet. Haven’t done television or a movie in years, and paparazzi aren’t likely to track me out here to watch me buy my groceries or split firewood.” My head was starting to hurt. I took a deep breath. “I’m pretty inoffensive nowadays.”

The old landline phone with the loud ring made me jump. I didn’t get a lot of calls.

“Hello?” I relaxed. My most constant caller was Lane and even she kept it to once or twice a month usually. This must be one of those calls.

Yeah, it was her.

“You’re about to have a visitor.” She sounded a little tense.

“Leo is already here. No problem.” Or not much of one. I was already a little twitchy from his presence, but I’d get over it once I got used to someone around.

“I’m glad, but I don’t mean a bodyguard. I suppose I don’t mean a visitor, either.” Lane stopped.

“That clears that up.”

“Don’t take up being a smart-ass again. You don’t have time for it.”

“All right, all right. What the hell is going on?”

“You’re about to have family call on you.”

“What the hell?” I hadn’t spoken to my parents since I turned eighteen and took control of my own money — and sued the hell out of them for taking mine before that. “Head them off!”

“Can’t. Social workers are on your trail.” That’s when I heard the note of real concern. I was in trouble?

“What? I’m way too old for a child care agency and not old enough for senior services.” A little too late, I realized I should have asked Leo to step out of the room.

“Congrats, Gene. It’s a boy.”

 

Get more from Treva at Changeling Press…

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

 

 

Fire’s Heat by Kate Steele #boxset #contemporary #cowboyromance #RomanceBooks @changelingpress

Fire's Heat (Duet)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

Who knew love could be so dangerous?

A Sure-Fire Cure: Betrayed by a former lover, veterinarian Dean Conlon knows how dangerous love can be. But his attraction to the handsome horse breeder, Scott Whittaker, is immediate and undeniable.

While Dean struggles against his own fears, Scott wages a tempting campaign of seduction. But someone else is in love with Dean and they’ll do whatever it takes, including murder, to claim Dean for their own.

New Year’s Fire: Unless Dean finds a way to mend the breach between his lover and himself, the start of their New Year is going to be anything but happy. Dean hopes to stir the banked embers of their passion and set this New Year’s Eve on fire.

 

Get it now at Changeling Press or Pre-Order for June 7th at Retailers

button_get-it-today (4)

Get the Paperback!

 

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kate Steele
Excerpt from A Sure-Fire Cure

Dean woke to a thumping reverberation in his head. Groggily he sat up. A split second of confusion gave way to understanding when he realized he was hearing pounding at the front door instead of suffering some strange, mutant headache. Grabbing his jeans from the chair near the bed where he’d dropped them earlier, he pulled them on, not bothering with briefs. He buttoned a few of the lower buttons while stumbling to the entrance in the dark.

Switching on the living room lights, he unlocked and opened the door to find a tall, broad-shouldered man waiting. Piercing blue eyes captured his from a ruggedly handsome and tanned face that was framed by thick, wavy and swept back sun-bleached hair.

“Doctor Conlon?” The stranger’s voice was firm, deep and demanding.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got a mare that needs attention. She’s about to drop her first foal, but she’s having trouble.”

“Why didn’t you just call?”

Dean was pinned by that brilliant blue-eyed gaze. “I wasn’t taking the chance that you might put me off. This mare’s valuable, Doc. I don’t want to lose her or the foal.”

“I never ignore calls for help,” Dean answered pointedly. “Let me get the rest of my clothes.” He strode back to the bedroom, quickly finished dressing, then returned to the living room to snatch his car keys out of the ashtray resting on a small side table.

“You won’t need those, I’ll drive.”

Dean glared at the man. “You’ll have to bring me home.”

“Not a problem.”

He saw the determination that sparkled in the man’s eyes and nodded. Wordlessly, he grabbed his medical bag and the pair of boots waiting near it. “Let’s go.”

Following the man out, he secured his door and pocketed his keys. In front of the house stood a fairly new truck, dark and shiny in the glare of the outside light. Dean walked around to the passenger side, climbed in and buckled his seat belt after settling his boots and bag on the floor. He leaned back, closing his eyes. His driver, already in place, started the truck and took off.

Dean took a deep breath, willing his nerves and stomach to calm down. It was disconcerting even under the best of circumstances to be pulled unceremoniously from a sound sleep; his head spun with the tiniest bit of disorientation that always seemed to cling for a few minutes whenever he was abruptly awakened. His body needed time to adjust.

Opening his eyes, his gaze was pulled to the motion of the driver’s hands on the steering wheel. In the glow of the dash lights, Dean watched every move. The hands were large and sinewy, the fingers long, broad and tapered; they looked strong and capable. Dean had a fleeting flash of his dream and felt his belly tighten while a tingle threaded its way down the length of his cock. For one unguarded, sleep-befuddled moment he wondered what it would be like to have those hands gliding over his skin.

He came to with a snap and took himself firmly to task. Dean suddenly realized that he had no idea in whose company he was, or where they were going. Clearing his throat, he managed to rasp out his question. “By the way, who are you?”

“Scott Whittaker. I live about five miles from here, on Westover Road. Don’t know if you’ve been by the place, but I’ve got a few acres and some horses.”

Dean stared. A few acres and some horses? The Whittaker place was large, to say the least. He had no idea exactly how big the spread was, but it was more than just a few acres. The property had rolling hills and flat pasture, all neatly fenced and well groomed. The Whittaker appaloosas were some of the most well known and sought after of the breed, both in the U. S. and abroad. When Dean had bought his veterinary practice from old Dr. Dennison a few months ago, he had read the files left behind, including the Whittaker’s. He had wondered if he’d hear from them, or if they’d take their business elsewhere.

“I’ve been by your place, Mr. Whittaker. You’ve got some beautiful acreage, and from what I’ve seen, some fine-looking horses.”

“Call me Scott.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Scott. You can call me Dean or Doc, I’ll answer to either one.”

“Glad to meet you, too, Dean. Sorry I had to drag you out of bed.”

The rich, low rumble of Scott’s voice traveled over Dean’s nerve endings and made his stomach do another twist. He took a deep, calming breath, only to find it flavored by a subtle scent that intrigued and tickled his nostrils. It was a full-bodied aroma that wove its way into Dean’s nostrils, wafting in to tickle his palate. It smelled faintly of horse, but mostly of man. There was warmth to it and a teasing, almost spicy musk that caused his groin to tighten yet again.

“Not a problem.”

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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.

More from Kate at Changeling Press…

Website: http://www.katesteele.com