SPOTLIGHT: Bolt (Fangs and Fists) by Kate Hill #paranormalromance #99cents

If any paranormal creature represents freedom, it’s the werewolf. With qualities of man and beast, the werewolf roams the wilderness, dominating all other creatures. Werewolves prefer death to captivity, but what if they were imprisoned and forced to use their powers against each other?

In the Fangs and Fists series, werewolves have been captured by demons and must fight each other in gladiatorial matches. The werewolf spirit won’t be tamed, and some are planning an escape.

Bolt, the first book in the Fangs and Fists series, focuses on two captive wolves who have fallen in love and cling to the hope of finding freedom again.

During the month of March, Bolt (Fangs and Fists 1) will be on sale for $0.99.

Thank you!

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Bolt (Fangs and Fists 1)

Blurb:

In a futuristic world ruled by demons, werewolves are enslaved to fight in gladiatorial matches for the amusement of their evil masters.

Kiara remembers what life was like living free — before she was taken by demons and bred to gladiators so that the new generations of wolves would retain their ferocity but forget their freedom. Mated to top gladiator Grit, she has a son with this surprisingly gentle lover who is also planning their escape. When Grit is killed in the arena, his close friend Bolt upholds his promise to protect Kiara and the cub.

Bolt and Kiara have loved each other from the moment they met, but they buried their feelings because she was mated to his best friend. When Grit dies, despite their guilt, Bolt and Kiara surrender to their desire for each other. Will their love be strong enough to help them win freedom from their evil masters?

Excerpt:

Bolt came to her again that night.

As before, the guards opened the door abruptly.

Kiara had been pacing the cell while Jett slept soundly in the adjoining room. She turned toward the door, her heart pounding with anticipation.

Wearing only his loincloth, Bolt entered behind the first guard. His blue gaze flew to Kiara. The guards said nothing, but left them alone, closing the door behind them.

“Bolt,” Kiara said, meeting him halfway across the room.

They embraced tightly and he covered her face with gentle kisses.

“I had a strange conversation today,” she whispered in his ear, hoping that if the masters were listening, they wouldn’t be able to hear her. “A huntress said we should be ready tonight.”

“Yes. Her name is Zari. She’s been planning this escape with us for months. Me, Grit and a couple of others. Victor is fighting again tonight. His opponent is one of ours, a wolf named Glacier. Since killing Grit, Victor’s next fight has been greatly anticipated. From what I’ve heard, most of the demons in the tower will be watching.”

“You really trust her? This Zari woman?”

Purchase Link: https://www.changelingpress.com/bolt-fangs-and-fists-1-b-2562

 

kate-hillKate Hill Bio:

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who started writing over twenty years ago for pleasure. Since 1996, she has sold over one hundred short stories, novellas, and novels.

She prefers to blend genres, and she loves horror and a happily ever after, so her books can be a bit unusual. If you’re looking for romance with witches, aliens, vampires, angels, demons, shapeshifters and more, there’s a good chance you’ll find something to your taste in her backlist.

When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, and watching horror movies. She also writes under the name Saloni Quinby. Visit her online at https://www.kate-hill.com.

 

SPOTLIGHT: My Past, Your Future by Gabbi Grey #GayRomance

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My Past, Your Future

By Gabbi Grey

 

♥♥♥ GiveAway ♥♥♥

Gabbi is offering a $5 Amazon GC and 2 ebooks of My Past, Your Future during the giveaway. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win so be sure to follow along on the tour with us. You may find the tour locations here http://bit.ly/2OYUyh4

 

About My Past, Your Future:

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Callum MacLaren, a professor from Scotland, visits Willow Springs, Vermont during the Winter Solstice to study and explore the rich history of St. Joseph’s Cemetery. His encounter with a sexy soldier in a tattered Civil War uniform is a captivating puzzle, and the more he learns, the deeper his attraction.

A hundred and fifty years ago, Elijah Freeman was killed during the Second Battle of Fort Wagner and woke up in Willow Springs, the only home he’d known. Alone, he roams the town, unable to leave or interact with a single soul until an intriguing Scot addresses him. Even stranger, the man can see him, hear him, and touch him–a sizzling caress that leaves Elijah aching for more.

But will Elijah return to his ghostly form when the magic of the solstice fades, or is Callum’s love enough to keep him in the land of the living?

 

Genre: M/M Paranormal Erotic Romance

 

My Past, Your Future Buy Links:

 

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Excerpt My Past, Your Future:

 

“I’m not sure I have many answers.” And Elijah wasn’t. He’d figured a few things out over the years, but much of it was contradictory and nonsensical. Still, he relaxed a little, no longer on edge.

“Well, let’s start with you being able to touch people and them able to touch you.” As if experimentally, he placed his hand on Elijah’s. “You’re cold. Are you always cold, or is it the weather?”

Elijah cleared his throat. This was the first human touch he’d had in years, and it affected him more than he’d ever imagined. Not that he’d spent a lot of time wondering because he’d assumed it’d never happen. Should he have tried earlier, or was it, as he suspected, only this man?

Please don’t let go of my hand.

Cautiously, he curled his fingers, holding on tighter.

Callum reciprocated.

“As for temperature. I don’t understand. I don’t feel cold now, and I don’t feel hot in the summer. And summers around here can be brutal, despite how far north we are.”

Callum nodded. “Edinburgh, where I’m from, can get warm in the summer. But we’re closer to the northern point of the country, so it’s temperate as opposed to oppressive.”

His thumb caressed the juncture where Elijah’s thumb met his finger, and little zings shot through him. Like the sound he associated with the electric lights when they turned on at dusk. Of course, the whole concept of electricity was beyond him.

 

About the Author:

Author Photo

I live surrounded by trees, raccoons, deer, and other woodland creatures, on a mountain in beautiful British Columbia where my fur baby chin poo keeps me safe from nasty bears.

Working for the government by day, I spend my nights writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances…and while I firmly believe in happy endings, I also believe in making my characters suffer before finding their true love.

 

Gabbi’s Social Links:

 

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The Case of the Deadly Game – Part 1 by Stephanie Burke #darkfantasy #murdermystery @FlashyCat

The Case of the Deadly Game Part 1 (Mai-Fly Mysteries 4)

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Mai’s Epic Journey is almost to an end, but a rest break in Lightwater, England proves to be more trouble than it’s worth. Now there’s a dead body, a hell hound, a Fire Goblin, and once again Mai is at the center of it all.

When you’re playing a Deadly game, someone always gets hurt.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

Use Discount Code TGIF02-28-2020 for 15% off your entire order!

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Stephanie Burke

“Changeling, are you?”

The woman stared up at Mai, her dark eyes intent as she gripped Mai’s hand hard.

On either side of her desk, the duly appointed and armed guardians of the gate tightened their hands on the handles of their batons made with blessed iron, their badges setting off a faint warning pulse that only those of the Fae blood could feel.

“Human, huh?” Mai returned as the woman’s hand tightened on her wrist, staring into the woman’s eyes, daring her to do or say something.

Mai was not in the mood. After a seven and a half hour nonstop flight from Baltimore to Gatwick in the UK, even traveling first class grated on her nerves.

She had already received confirmation that Ry’s body had arrived in Cardiff and was going directly into the hands of his clan for safekeeping though her Court could not pass back into Fae lands without her, as a new Queen, being there as an escort. Even in death, he was still a member of another Queen’s Court and by Fae law, he couldn’t even travel into the grieving hands of his mother unless Mai was there to allow it. But in order to get there, Mai had to first obtain permission from the British authorities, those who guarded the gate into Fae, and she had to clear this fucking customs gate.

At least his body didn’t have to go through the comprehensive background and magical checks at the gates of Gatwick Airport with what could be a deranged human whose name was… Mai paused in her musings to stare at the nametag of the once cheery and bubbly… Karen. Her whole attitude had changed when it came to Mai, compared to everyone who had come before.

“First time?” The woman was sitting behind a tall desk that stretched across the front length of the exit gate. It was the last obstacle blocking a barred exit that led to the outside. Mai had looked around at the warded area, saw a magic meter nearly as tall as she was off in the corner, what had to be a dozen of those security guys standing around and looking menacing, the tall cold iron bars that blocked the only door to the outside, and then back to the cheery smiling woman who had chirped at all the others until her. The shock of it all had been almost enough to leave her speechless.

“Well, yeah,” Mai had shaken herself mentally and got her mind back on business, ignoring the insanely dangerous vibes she got from those security agents. “First time here.”

“Papers, please.”

Before Mai could move, Ptris who had been placing a formal looking envelope on the desk, returned the woman’s smile with a blank stare that didn’t affect her aura of happiness at all. It was really too early for that crap and there wasn’t enough coffee in Mai’s body to deal with the fake giddiness that the woman was throwing off, or at least not deal with it with anything approaching grace.

“Oh, how exciting!” The woman had all but bounced in her seat. “A new court is forming, and from The Americas no less. You don’t see that every day.”

When silence was her only answer, the woman had just giggled to herself and began to go through the paperwork. It was their passports, their travel visas, their itinerary, and the paperwork declaring who and what they were.

“Entranced human?” she asked, looking up at Austin to match his photo to his passport and he proudly waved his hand. “You don’t see that every day. You don’t have a birth certificate…”

“I was born before the department of vital statistics was created.” He chuckled. “But my papers should have my bloodwork, my clan name and affiliation as well as my date of birth and time of the willing entrancement…”

“I see,” she mused, staring at Austin to the point where Lu-Lu reached out and grabbed his hand, glaring at the woman. “Sorry, love.” Karen shook her head and turned back to the papers spread out on her desk. “I’ve never come across a human so old, though to be fair, most entrancements stopped long before the last war.”

Austin nodded in understanding. “I am unique in that regard.”

“Scotsman, are you?” she asked and he grinned. “Welcome home, then.”

She turned to Ptris, blinked twice and just stamped his papers. No one fucked with Ptris.

She stamped Lu-Lu’s well-worn paperwork — the elf traveled a lot — and then turned her gaze to Mai.

Her head tilted to the side as she stared at her and of course Mai stared back. After a few moments of this standoff, Mai realized they were in a stalemate.

About Stephanie Burke

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

Blog | Stephanie at Changeling Press | Facebook

 

 

Chasing Charli by Anne Kane #paranormalromance @AnneKane

Chasing Charli (Northern Rockies Pack 2)

Cover Artist: Angela Knight

 

Designated bait slut. Hardly the job Charli dreamed of growing up, but as a single parent with a toddler to protect her choices are limited. She cruises the local bars looking for unsuspecting victims to lure into the pack’s clutches. The future looks bleak until she runs into her childhood sweetheart in a downtown pub.

Wyatt is in town for his semi-annual meeting with his pack’s financial advisor. This trip, though, he finds more than a good return on investment. The moment he lays eyes on Charli he realizes she is his mate, the one female who can complete his life. He’s determined to convince her to bond with him. From a tooth and claw fight with her Alpha, to reading bedtime stories to her daughter, he’ll do whatever it takes to get her to say “Yes.”

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press
Use Discount Code TGIF02-28-2020 for 15% off your entire order!

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Anne Kane

Charli glared at Henry. “Enough already. This is bullshit. I joined this pack because you promised to support my studies if I agreed to look after your pack’s health. You lied. You haven’t let me anywhere near the campus, let alone helping me actually enroll. I’m done. I want out. Let me go, and I won’t report your sorry asses to anyone, werewolf or human. I’ll just leave, and I promise you’ll never hear from me again.”

The slap came so fast she didn’t have time to duck. Her neck snapped backward and she lost her balance, landing in an undignified heap at his feet. Although he didn’t deserve the title, Henry was the Alpha and he ruled by brute force combined with a healthy dose of fear. Like the blow that had landed her on the floor, Henry’s temper could explode at any minute and often for no reason that she could understand. Living with him and his pack was like sitting on a live, ticking time bomb and wondering when it would blow up.

Right now, she didn’t really care. A pack was supposed to protect and support its members, all of its members. Since she’d been recruited, all they’d done was use her as bait. They had one gig, one way of bringing in cash and it involved dressing her up like a slut to lure a likely victim into their trap. She’d proposition them and promise to provide some very adult services if they came with her to some sleazy motel. The motels differed, depending on where she’d picked up the mark, but they were all the same run-down, grubby places. Then she’d let the pack know where to find them. If she timed it right, a couple of very scary-looking werewolves in human form broke into the room and took the mark for everything they could before she had to ante up on her promises. During the shakedown, Charli would sneak out to be transported back to their headquarters by one of the pack.

From what she’d gathered from the few females in the pack, she’d be the designated bait slut until they managed to recruit a new member. Not that that would improve her status much. If she wasn’t busy luring horny human males with poor judgment into the clutches of the pack thugs, she’d be given to one or more of the members as their plaything. She honestly wasn’t sure which fate she’d prefer.

A pile of lacy material landed beside her. “Put that on and get ready. We need to make some money tonight.” Henry turned on his heels and stalked out of the room.

Time to go with Plan B. Problem was, she didn’t have a Plan B.

* * *

Wyatt took a long pull on the mug of beer, his gaze constantly moving from patron to patron in the sparsely populated pub. Habits are hard to break, and checking his surroundings was a deeply ingrained habit. Thursday nights didn’t seem to be very popular with the pub’s clientele, making people-watching less interesting than usual.

He’d been in Calgary for almost a week now, dealing with financial matters for the pack. A wry smile curved the corner of his mouth. Pack accountant. Somehow it didn’t sound quite as impressive as Alpha or Enforcer or any of the other positions in the hierarchy of the Northern Rockies Pack.

Of course, being a werewolf, Wyatt wasn’t the stereotypical desk jockey. At six foot four, he weighed in at a hefty two hundred and sixty pounds, and none of those pounds were fat. Werewolves were a lot more civilized these days but there was still the need to be able to defend the pack, and its territory even if it was rarely necessary. And then there was the DNA. No escaping the territorial, fight to the death to defend your pack brothers, instincts that were bred into his very bones.

Tonight was his last night in cow-town, which was fine with him. He had a final meeting with the pack’s investment counselor in the morning, and then he’d be on the road. The city had its good points. Wyatt enjoyed the culture, the theaters, and the shopping. Heck, he could spend days browsing the Bass Pro Shop or MEC, but he’d had enough of pretending to be human. He’d be glad to get back on pack territory and be able to change in comfort, be able to run without constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been observed by anyone not of the werewolf community. Those were the kinds of things a werewolf took for granted until he didn’t have them anymore.

Wyatt lifted his mug and downed the rest of his drink in one long swallow. He gave the bartender a friendly nod, tossing enough bills on the bar to cover his tab. He stood and turned toward the doorway. Time to head back to his motel room and turn in for the night. He could feel the urge to run, but it wasn’t urgent and he’d prefer to wait until he was back in pack territory.

A faint but tantalizing scent drifted past his nose, stopping him in his tracks. Werewolf. Female werewolf. Familiar female werewolf. Wyatt turned slowly in the direction of the scent, wary of being caught on another pack’s territory. As far as he knew, there were no official packs in the city, the closest one being just south of it in the open plains, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

Packs tended to avoid cities for one obvious reason. Humans. There were so many of them in cities, all packed together, and that made it hard to avoid detection. Changing became a problem. Running was a serious issue. Where do you run when there are people and buildings and vehicles everywhere? Sure, you could drive out to some nice field every time you needed to change but that could be inconvenient. And, if you didn’t make it out of the city to run you risked the chance of an involuntary change. No, cities were not highly sought after pack territories.

Given the lack of patrons in the pub, it didn’t take him long to track down the source of the scent. By the wide-eyed look on her face, she hadn’t come in expecting to find another of her kind. He searched the area around her but could see no one with her, and the single glass that the bartender set down in front of her seemed to indicate she was alone.

The city just got a whole lot more interesting. Charli.

 

About Anne Kane

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

Website | Anne at Changeling Press | Facebook

 

 

Conceivable by Willa Okati #mpreg #paranormalromance

Conceivable (Roanoke River Omegas 1)

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

 

Omega Jory’s in love with his best friend, Alpha Darius, and Darius has no idea. Darius’s in love with Jory, and Jory has no idea. But when Jory asks Darius to father his baby, everything’s about to explode. Jory’s body burns with the need to conceive. He’s so hot to be bred he’s insatiable, demanding everything Darius can give — and more. And the more Darius gives, the more Darius wants.

But it’s not all fun and games. Jory’s body wants all the sex it can take, but it isn’t cooperating with conception. And the fluctuating hormones are making Jory a little crazy. Darius’s got to figure out how to save the day and to tell his best friend he wants to be more than friends, for keeps.

What do you do with a drunken sailor? Take him home, build a nest, and get him pregnant… if you can.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for February 28th at retailers

  

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Willa Okati

What did you do with a drunken sailor?

Why, anything you wanted, that’s what. You could tie him up tight with a crimson ribbon, dip him in a pool of melted butter, run him through a room of screaming fire alarms, and when he got done with all that, then you could tuck him in bed with an Alpha’s lover. And every last bit of it sounded fine when sung at the top of three dozen-odd throats at Happy Hour on a Friday evening in MacInnes’s pub.

Better still when Darius could raise his mostly empty glass and swing it in time with the song. Best of all when tucked into a booth with his best friend beside him, warm as toast and smelling faintly of Omega and largely of burnt-sugar whiskey.

As weeknights went, this was a good one.

The last lines of the chorus were still echoing off the ceiling when someone who fancied himself a soloist stood on top of a table and started belting out a boozy version of “Danny Boy.” He got a few catcalls and the occasional coaster tossed at him, but he had a decent deep tenor and most of the rowdies settled down to listen. Darius included.

Still laughing, still warm, he slid back into the booth he shared with Jory and kicked his legs forward to tangle their feet together. Best friends — closer than blood since they’d met in another bar on weekend passes five years back — they’d always been in each other’s space ever since. Didn’t bother them any that Darius was an Alpha and Jory an Omega. Darius was Navy and Jory part of the Peace Corps, sure, but the military kept everyone on hormone suppressants to cut down on hanky-panky in the ranks, so what did it matter?

“Another round?” Darius asked when their impromptu soloist paused to drown his own thirst.

Redheaded and usually fair as cream, Jory’s cheeks were cherry pink tonight from the two whiskies and a pint of Guinness he’d already downed, but he gave Darius a blazing grin and raised his empty glass. “You’re on. And I mean it, you’re on. Last round was mine.”

Was it? Darius shrugged, not bothered either way. They always took turns. He halfway stood to wave at their waiter — a friendly Beta who could pull pints fast as lightning strikes — then thumped back down in a comfortable slouch. Jory, still grinning, made him laugh. Made him content. Being around him made something inside Darius feel… satisfied. Good.

“So,” he said, after tipping back his empty glass in search of just a few more drops. “You were saying, about the kids, before that racket started up?” Jory had gone into teaching kindergarten after getting out of the Reserves, and taken to it like a duck to water.

“That they’re adorable. Today I had to teach one of them not to lick the drinking fountain because that wasn’t how it worked. Also? ‘Racket’ my hindquarters, you love it.” Jory’s smile shone smile softer, warmer, teasing. “As if you weren’t singing along.”

Darius bent his head, only a little sheepish and only for half a second. He came up with a glint in his eye and clinked his glass against Jory’s. “Shut up.”

Jory clinked back. He knew this game. “You shut up.”

“Bite me.”

“Needs ketchup.”

“Kiss my ass.”

Jory laughed. “Bend over!”

Their pert, pretty little Beta waiter — what was his name, Adam? — rolled his eyes as he swung by their table with two full glasses. “Drown yourself in these, would you?” He softened his words with a gentle love tap on the back of Darius’s dark head and a rustle through Jory’s auburn tangle. “Drink up, boys, order some more, and leave a good tip. I’ve got bills to pay!”

“Good thing I have a steady job,” Darius remarked as Adam sped away. He’d left the Navy a year after Jory mustered out and would have settled where his best friend did regardless, but he thanked his lucky stars Jory had picked Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina. Made finding work on the water easy, and Darius had settled into a good hands-on position at the lake. Solid work that left him aching with sore muscles every day, but satisfied down to the bottom of his soul. “Or I wouldn’t be able to afford taking my best friend out for booze-ups at fancy joints like this.”

Jory wrinkled his nose. “Speaking of kids, how are the new hires you were talking about?”

“Eh, there’s a few bright stars,” Darius said with a shrug. “Some better than others. Time will tell. But they do already know how to use the water fountains. Probably.”

“They’re not as cute as a baker’s dozen of toddlers, though.”

Darius waggled one hand to and fro. “They probably think so, especially when they’re out looking to score some tail, but nope.”

Jory nodded in satisfaction, making him a pleasure to look at. Darius had always liked his friend’s face, not exactly handsome but friendly and open but with fine, well-shaped bones. Very dissimilar to himself, with his tall leanness, his longer features and darker complexion. His general attitude was sharper-edged, more serious. But whenever Darius got too stuck in his head, Jory pried him out, and whenever Jory’s warm heart got a little too bruised, Darius was there to pick him up and settle him down.

What he’d do without Jory in his life, Darius didn’t know. And he didn’t want to know.

Darius downed his drink and wiped the Guinness foam away with a sigh of satisfaction. “So did the kid wrap his head around how water fountains worked, in the end?”

“Hmm?”

Darius cocked his head. “I said…”

But Jory’s attention had drifted. He did that sometimes — wandered off in thought and lost himself in daydreams. Darius didn’t worry about it, as he always came back, but every now and again it was interesting to try and track what’d caught Jory’s fancy. He let his gaze go slightly out of focus, turned toward Jory’s line of sight, and…

Ah. There it was. Courting couples. Of which there were plenty, no matter where you went, but especially in MacInnes’s when the beer was flowing and the whiskey bit back. Darius followed Jory’s regard, jumping from pair to pair.

First an Omega couple — interesting, you didn’t see that too often — in their, hmm, mid sixties? Yes, and comfortable with each other in a way that said they’d been an odd couple for decades. Nice. From there, a couple of Betas who were plainly just friends, but with a few saucy benefits like the hands tucked in each others’ back pockets. A thirtyish Omega buying a jar of spicy brined pickles for a laughing Alpha who rode him piggyback and kissed his ear, and a widower Darius knew who always drank one Long Island iced tea with a picture of his mate on the table with him.

Humanity, in all its infinite variety.

And then, something Darius knew Jory would zero in on as special. An Alpha with an Omega on his arm, the two of them so in love it almost rang from the rooftop and echoed in everyone’s ears. Total hearts in their eyes, and eyes only for each other. Young, maybe on the uphill climb to twenty-five, but the Alpha had a toddler on one hip and the Omega’s stomach was proudly curved, maybe six months gone with a second cub. He rested one hand on the swell, an unconscious gesture but one that spoke of pleasure and pride. His Alpha glanced down and wrapped his free arm around the Omega’s shoulders, giving him a cuddle.

Darius shook his head, but with a lopsided smile. The whole effect was so sweet it’d give a man diabetes, but he wouldn’t complain too much about it. He glanced at Jory to see that Jory had noticed him in turn. “Busted?”

“Nosy,” Jory said, giving his shin a gentle nudge under the table.

“Look who’s talking.”

“But that’s all right,” Jory continued, undaunted. “You can buy the next round. Again.”

Darius snorted. “Anyone ever tell you you’re not a cheap date?”

“Every now and again.” Jory checked his watch. “Actually, make it a cup of coffee instead. It’s getting late, and I need to sober up.”

“Why? We’ve walked home three sheets to the wind before.”

“I have my reasons,” Jory said without further explanation, leaving Darius to wonder what he meant by that. It seemed to be something that made him a little nervous. He pushed his glass back and forth in the circle of condensation it’d left on the table, but didn’t drop any handy clues. “Did you see the couple with one in arms and one on the way?”

Darius nodded. Of course he had. Ah. Two plus two came together. “Is that the water fountain kid?”

Jory’s smile blossomed, warm and pleased. “It is. He’s adorable, huh? He wants to name his baby brother Mr. Ed.”

A swallow of beer almost went down the wrong way. Darius coughed. “He wants to what, now? How does he know Mr. Ed? I don’t even remember where I heard of Mr. Ed.”

“No telling.” Jory laughed too. “His parents are just hoping he’ll come around to plain old ‘Corey’ when he’s born.”

He fell quiet again, but Darius could tell he was still watching the couple. Darius had to admit they made entertaining viewing. The baby must have been awake, inside. The Omega patted his belly, trying to soothe him, and the Alpha tracked his movements with one palm, fascination written across his face. Little judo master, Darius thought the Alpha said at one point. He winced in imagined empathy, and — the strangest thing — a flicker of jealousy.

Jealousy? Darius frowned down at the remnants of his Guinness. He’d been a bachelor since he presented as Alpha, and hadn’t really minded. When he needed company or he went into rut he knew where to find what he needed. Aside from that, it didn’t seem so important. He had Jory, and they kept each other busy. Besides, Jory had decided to stay on military-grade suppressants when he went civilian to keep himself level and lower the risk of getting pregnant by accident, so it’d never been an issue. But now, Darius wondered.

No. He knew. He’d seen that look on Omega faces before, and it surprised him to see it on Jory’s, but then again it wasn’t a shock. It looked… natural. Nice. Darius tapped the back of Jory’s hand with one finger. “I see. You’ve been thinking about it.”

Jory, still captivated by the scene, raised his shoulder a fraction of an inch. “On and off.” He shook his head and focused, looking back at Darius. “No, that’s a lie of omission. I have been thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about it. I want that, and I can’t stop wanting it.”

“A baby?”

“Enough that I stopped taking my suppressants,” Jory said, simple and clear. He settled his hands around his glass. “Three days ago. You know suppressants. They start working fast, and they stop just as fast. Should be gone by the weekend.”

Darius blinked. Jory really meant business, then. The thought fascinated him in a way that surprised Darius. The mental image of Jory as round and curved and full as that Omega gave him a jolt like electricity applied deep down inside, something that sparked too much heat to ignore.

He stamped that down carefully, tightly, and securely. Darius had never been immune to Jory’s charms. He’d had dreams, fantasies. Wishes. Desires. But he’d refused to let himself take one single step past plain and simple friendship. Nothing that’d start them down the road to a messy breakup. He’d seen it happen before — too many times — when friends hooked up. Hell, he’d encouraged Jory to date other people. He’d been glad that Jory was living with Alpha Whateverhisnamewas when he moved into town so the question of sharing an apartment couldn’t come up.

Darius realized he was staring. To cover his reaction, he cleared his throat and hurried on. “Fertile. No kidding. Who’re you going to get to be the father?”

“That’s the thing,” Jory said, his gaze fixed calmly on Darius. “I was hoping it would be you.”

 

More from Willa Okati at Changeling Press …

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

 

 

If You Really Go Demon by Sean Michael #BDSM #darkfantasy #LGBT @seanmichael09

If You Really Go Demon (Once You Go Demon 2)

Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Griff has been living with a terrible secret for centuries. He’s a high demon, but he has wild needs and desires to be a pleasure demon — to submit to another. Such things are forbidden in hell, but he finally breaks down and confesses his desires to his best friend Savilry, risking not just their friendship but his own safety.

He could never have dreamed Savilry’s response, and Griff will never be the same again.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for February 14th at online retailers

  

 

For a super sexy, melt-your-ereader-it’s-so-hot sneak peek, be sure to check out the book on Changeling Press… CLICK HERE (excerpt only recommended for those 18+)

 

ABOUT SEAN MICHAEL

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.

You can write to Sean at seanmichaelwrites@gmail.com, or visit his websites including Cafe Risque http://caferisque.blogspot.com. For Sean Michael’s M/M works, see www.seanmichaelwrites.com. For Sean’s adventures into the HET world as S. Michael, see www.seanmichaelwrites.com/smichaelbooks.html.

 

 

Lion Her Ass Off by Sarah Marsh #shifters #paranormalromance @SM_fiction

Lion Her Ass Off

Blue Valley Shifters, Book 2

By Sarah Marsh

 

Blurb:

Just like any other shifter, Julie always imagined meeting her mate and living happily ever after with the charming male of her dreams. Nothing could have prepared her for the shitstorm that was about to become her love life. With her luck though, shouldn’t she have expected it?

Hector has lived his life knowing that he’d become Alpha of Blue Valley one day. Turns out, acting like you always have it together and living it? Well, those are two very different things. He panicked when he first realized that his sister’s best friend was his mate, now he must rise to the occasion in hopes that he can salvage the rest of his life—but no pressure.

Deacon had no idea what fate had in store for him with a new start in Blue Valley, meeting his mate and her ‘plus one’ wasn’t it. These two are so mixed up in the past it seems almost impossible to make things right and move forward. Good thing he’s a professional.

 

Buy Links:

Evernight: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/lion-her-ass-off-by-sarah-marsh/

Amazon: https://www.amazn.com/dp/B084BYSCVS

Smashwords: https://bit.ly/36GSkcm
Nook: https://bit.ly/319LdIi
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2RJPTlb
Bookstrand: https://bit.ly/2S1QA8m

 

 

Excerpt:

Julie was very proud of herself for waiting until seven the next morning before she climbed the trellis to Heidi’s bedroom window and snuck in just like she’d done a million times since they were children—well, maybe not exactly the same. This time, she had the forethought to listen at the window to make sure all occupants were still sleeping. The last thing she needed was to interrupt her bestie getting ‘serviced’ by her new beaus. But given the fact that the current bane of her existence was most likely sleeping in a room down the hall, she simply couldn’t risk the front door.
She had just eased the window shut and turned around to a rather large mound of bodies in Heidi’s double bed, thankfully still covered by a quilt. Her legs were bent, preparing to launch as a devious smile crept over her lips…
“Wak—ahh!” She squeaked and jumped back as a low growl split the previous silence and two sets of golden feline eyes popped open in the dim light of dawn.
“No, Julie,” Mason growled. “No eggs and no damned bakey! We’re taking back that spare key unless you agree to never come through our door before 8:00 AM again.”
“She came in through the window,” Wade muttered before pulling a pillow over his head.
“What’s happening?” Heidi groaned before her eyes opened slowly. “Hey, babe, what’s going on? Why do you look like hammered shit?”
“No.” Mason placed a huge paw over Heidi’s face, and Julie struggled not to laugh, as her twenty minutes of sleep last night threatened to snap her mind. “You can have a key to our new place if you agree not to barge into our bedroom at ungodly times in the morning.”
“Okay … unless it’s an emergency.” She reluctantly agreed with the giant, naked tiger in her best friend’s bed.
“Great, now can I please get back to cuddling my mate—”
“It’s an emergency!” Her voice bellowed to the ceiling as she interrupted him, causing giggles to erupt from Heidi and curses from the men on each side of her.
You are an emergency.” Mason groaned and followed Wade’s lead to pull a pillow over his head as Heidi tried to climb out from in between the two of them.
“Awww, you’re so sweet, thank you.” She knew he hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but she was a wolf and was therefore genetically predisposed to only hear things she wanted to.
“Is there a reason you’re using the window instead of the door?” Heidi asked as she pulled on a robe. “Oh Goddess, did Derek get drunk and pass out in his lion form on the porch again?”
“No…”
Wow, this confession was going to be tougher than she thought it would be. Julie didn’t think Heidi would be mad that Hector was her mate, but there was a very good chance that she was going to be furious that Julie had known all these years and didn’t say a Goddess-damned thing about it to her best friend in the entire world.
There was really only one way to deal with this, Julie knew that. So, she’d do what she’d always done when it came to delivering bad news to a lion shifter female—she’d Band-Aid that bitch off quickly and then dive for cover.
“I’ve known for the last six years that your asshole brother, Hector, is my mate, but he pretended like it wasn’t happening and he obviously doesn’t want me, so I don’t want him either and last night he lost his mind and said it out loud in front of your brothers and your dad and now I don’t know what’s going to happen!”
It all came out in one overly loud, long, run-on sentence and when it was done, Julie covered her face with her hands and waited for the worst.
Huh. I wasn’t expecting the worst to be a bunch of heavy breathing…
She moved two fingers aside so she could see what was happening, and in case Heidi tried to maul her, she would still only lose one eye. To her surprise, Heidi, as well as both of her mates were just staring at her with their mouths hanging open.
The seconds ticked by and Julie watched closely as her friend’s expression moved from shock to realization, then a murderous look clouded over and Julie waited to get yelled at for betraying the one person she loved most in the world.
“That … arrogant, selfish, know-it-all, big-haired son of a bitch!” Heidi screamed, her hands clenching as her claws slid from her fingertips. “I’ll kill him!”
Now it was Julie’s turn to stand there in shock, but lucky for them all, Heidi’s mates recovered quickly as they both grabbed her before she could yank the bedroom door open and go find her big brother.
“So … you don’t hate me?” Julie’s words were quiet, but they stopped Heidi in her tracks like she’d used a bullhorn. “For not telling you all these years?”
“Oh, babe.” Heidi pulled her in for a big, lion-sized hug, and for once, Julie didn’t struggle. She just took the comfort her friend offered. “I don’t hate you. I wish you had told me, though. I can’t imagine how awful this must have been, going through it all alone. But don’t worry, we’ll fix it.”
Julie sighed. “I don’t need you to fix anything, Heidi. There’s nothing left between me and your brother. He made his choice, and I made peace with that years ago.”
Liar. The worst thing that cat-bastard ever did was make me have to lie to my best friend, and now he’s doing it all over again.
From the look on Heidi’s face, she suspected Julie wasn’t being honest, but she was thankful Mason interrupted.
“Well,” he announced, looking at his phone. “I think the first thing we should do is get both of you out of here and away from that asshole lion. My assistant just texted the house is ready. Let’s go.”
“Good plan,” Julie agreed and walked to the exit, ready to get away from the slight scent of Hector that was lingering in the hallway.
When the room went silent, she looked behind her.
“We’re not climbing out the damned window.” Wade rolled his eyes at her.
Tigers. So danged bossy.

Author Info:

Sarah Marsh was born in British Columbia, she’s only recently began her writing career finding it the perfect outlet for taking the edge off a nine to five job. She’s a science fiction and romance junkie and when her imagination started to take the characters she’d read about even further in their adventures she decided to try writing something of her own.

Her biggest weaknesses are animals of any kind … she even loves the ones that wake you up at four in the morning because they can almost see the bottom of their food dish.

When it comes to life in general she’s a big believer that laughter is the best medicine and that there’s no such thing as too much love, which is why she’s such a sucker for a happy ending.

 

Blog: http://sarahmarshfiction.com/

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Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/sarah-marsh

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/sarahmarshfiction

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14226436.Sarah_Marsh

Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/sarah-marsh/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/sarah-marsh