Cornelius by Alice Gaines #PNR #RomCom #shifters #romancebooks

Cornelius (SexScape 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

 

SueAnn has always been terrified of parties and other gatherings with lots of strangers. So, when she’s mysteriously whooshed away into the middle of her favorite computer game, SexScape, she’s more than alarmed to discover she’s landed in the middle of an ongoing party. And there’s a lion! And there’s also a man who treats her to sex better than she ever thought possible.

Cornelius feels SueAnn can be the right mate for him. Unfortunately, SueAnn’s pet cat turns out to be a shapeshifter who is not about to give up her hold on her beloved owner. Can a lion beat out a house cat to win the heart of a human woman?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Alice Gaines

Victory lay within her grasp. One more move, and SueAnn would conquer level 1023 in her favorite game, SexScape. She’d battled this one for days, and now she could savor success. After all, SexScape was the closest thing she ever got to sex, so she might as well enjoy it as late into the night as she wanted. She’d nod off all day at her desk tomorrow, no doubt, but boredom accomplished that easily enough without lack of sleep.

She’d just raised her hand to finish off the level, her finger poised over the last three red tiles she needed to win, when about ten pounds of fur landed with a plaintive meow right next to her hand. She quickly grabbed her cat into her arms.

“Not now, Kitty. I’m winning. Don’t screw it up.”

Kitty had obviously done something right because the game board lit up telling her she’d conquered level 1023, despite her pet’s interference. She let out a whoop of victory. She’d have to figure out a way to celebrate. A glass of wine with dinner tomorrow, maybe. The expensive cat food from the tiny cans for Kitty.

Before she could make up her mind on all that, the room started spinning, the walls melting in on themselves. All the air seemed to whoosh out of the room, even though SueAnn could still breathe. Then, she found herself falling into a lightless tunnel. She held on tight to where her cat had been. “Kitty, are you there?”

The answer came in the form of a hiss and the prick of twenty sharp claws into her arms and chest. Yeah, Kitty was still with her, wherever they’d gotten themselves. Was this part of SexScape? Some kind of sensory deprivation, whirling ride? SexScape didn’t deprive your senses. It enhanced them, according to its advertising. At least, she was still breathing, and she had her cat.

After a bit, a spot of light appeared ahead, and her body took on a sense of direction — toward the light. As the brightness expanded, colors started to take shape. Figures appeared. People in costumes, many with drinks in their hands, dancing to raunchy music. Some dream version of a party. And then she ended up dumped on her bottom in the middle of it, now holding Kitty in her lap.

Hands reached down and hauled her to her feet.

“Hey, look,” a woman’s voice said. “A new arrival.”

Suddenly, they were all standing around her, staring at her, and she was only wearing her pajamas, having gotten ready for bed just before the game had picked her up and sent her here. She never went to parties. In fact, she avoided crowds whenever possible, even visiting the supermarket at odd hours. And she’d never allow herself to be seen by strangers improperly dressed. She clutched Kitty to her chest as if the cat could protect her from all of them.

They didn’t appear aggressive or meaning to threaten her. They smiled at her in welcome, but that didn’t keep her heart from pounding and her throat from going dry.

“Neat costume,” a young man dressed as a pirate said. “Is the cat part of it?”

“Let me guess.” Another man — this one in surgeon’s scrubs — stroked his chin as he studied her. “The cat is a companion animal.”

“Sure, she’s my pet.”

“It needs a drink.” The first man turned around and grabbed a glass from someone behind him. He held it out to her. “Here you go.”

“Kitty doesn’t drink,” she said. “If someone can point me to the way out of here, I’ll leave you all to have your party.”

“You need a drink, then,” the “doctor” said.

“I don’t drink. Honestly.” When he shoved the glass toward her, she took it, but she would have had to release Kitty to drink, and that wasn’t happening.

“We’ll fix that, won’t we, gang?” He turned around to face the others. “What do you say?”

“Drink, drink, drink,” a chant went up. There had to be at least twenty people here, and they all wanted her to drink. Only sheer terror kept her from total humiliation. The music continued, and several partygoers hefted their own glasses. An introvert’s definition of pure hell — being the center of attention of a bunch of strangers while dressed inappropriately for a serious session of eat, drink, and be merry. What had she done to deserve this?

Then, a roar filled the room. Not the roar of a crowd, but a real one. Everything stopped, even the music, and the partygoers parted to make way for… oh, Dear Lord… an honest-to-goodness lion headed right toward her. A male with a full mane. A magnificent beast, but also capable of tearing her apart as if she were made of paper. He roared again, rearing his enormous head back and exposing his teeth.

“It’s Cornelius,” someone shouted.

“The Party Animal,” someone else said. “Now, we can really get going.”

 

Find more from Alice at Changeling Press …

 

Make Me a Match by Willa Okati #RomCom #boxset #LGBT #NewAdult @willaokati

Make Me a Match (Duet)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Rivals to friends to lovers and more — there’s much ado about you, you, you.

Open Cover Before Striking: Davis Carmichael doesn’t do love. He’d rather strip naked and crawl through a field of broken glass than give anyone that much control over him. The only thing he cares about is his journalism career. That is, until he meets Cristian Baranov, a die-hard Romeo with an uncanny knack for making connections and taming cranky wordsmiths. A man who breaks down Davis’s resistance with a sweep of his hand for just one night. Neither expected they’d ever meet again, but fate has other plans…

Best Laid Plans: Jefferson’s a serious-natured soccer star, and Teddy was born to party till the wheels come off. But they have more fun fighting with each other than they would kissing anyone else. Maybe — maybe — they’re falling in love. But when everything turns topsy-turvy, is their new alliance strong enough to save the day?

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for October 25th at retailers

   

Also Available in Paperback

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Willa Okati
Excerpt from Best Laid Plans

Oh yes.

Teddy retraced his path backward, down the three shallow porch steps and onto the sidewalk in front of 1514 Saltman Street. Dandelions and crabgrass grew through cracks in the pavement, and someone named BIG JOE had signed the concrete before it dried back in — Teddy squinted — 1983.

Teddy pressed the fingertips of both hands to his mouth as he craned his neck for a good look up at 1514. Two blocks away from the University of West Ioannes campus. Near enough to walk; far enough for independence. Red brick — the kind of red that made him think of sunsets and abattoirs — battered and chipped at the corners. Faded black shutters at every window. The wooden porch boards had been painted a dull slate gray and had gaps between them big enough to lose a quarter down. Straight-up house on the bottom floor, divided into two doll-sized apartments on the second floor. Climbing vines draped lushly over the walls. And it had balconies.

Yes and yes again. Teddy’s grin grew behind the lattice of his fingertips. He jigged in place, three steps of a Cossack kick that made his mop of coppery hair bounce over his forehead. It’s perfect.

He shaded his eyes to squint up at the balconies. Those were what had really sold him on the deal — well, he would have signed up no matter what to get out of the dorms, but anyway. When he’d been offered a chance at a different arrangement, he’d jumped at it. He’d imagined it would be nice, but this was the cherry on top. His own private balcony, where he could cozy up in a blanket in winter and leave his flip-flops wherever he pleased during the summer months. He’d bet it got great natural light. He’d been born to bask, and his full-body dusting of freckles proved it.

Did the balcony already have a chair, or would he need to scout one out at the Army Surplus? Teddy stood on his tiptoes, but he couldn’t be sure. The sturdy vines growing up the sides of the house made it difficult to see past them in places, so thick and verdant green that they had their own personality.

Hmm. I wonder…

Teddy kicked off his shoes and wiggled his bare toes on the pavement, right over BIG JOE’s signature. The vines looked strong enough to climb, and he was a small guy. They ought to hold five-four and a buck-twenty-five. He tugged at a trailing green tendril to check and made a pleased noise in the back of his throat when they didn’t give way. They barely budged except to rustle at him in annoyance.

“Let’s see what we can see,” he said, reaching for a double grip on the vines over his head. “Up, up, and away!”

He almost made it halfway to the second story — not bad, personal record — before his left foot skidded off. Oops. He’d forgotten to account for natural skin oils on his soles and slipperiness from the warmth of sneakers in summertime. If it hadn’t been for that, he thought, he would have made it all the way.

“Yipe!”

“Whoa!”

The body-to-body collision jarred the fillings in Teddy’s molars, and the pair of sinewy arms that wrapped around his chest made his ribs squeak in protest. He flailed and kicked his legs backward and got his ass dropped on the sidewalk for his pains. Right on JOE. Oh, the humanity. “What the hell?” he yelped, looking up again at six feet of indignation framed in chestnut hair and bright-blue eyes.

“Jefferson?” Hastily, Teddy flipped his leather kilt down to hide the goods. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass. Don’t bother to thank me.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Teddy said. He rolled to his knees and got up, dusting himself off. Jefferson! Of all the people. To say they didn’t get along — and never had — was like daring to suggest water might be slightly wet or that fire had the potential to burn. And they couldn’t ever seem to avoid each other. He was besties with the boyfriend of Teddy’s bestie, Noelani, which was just all kinds of swell. Everywhere he went, Jefferson poked his giant soccer head up, with his jock buddies in tow and his utter, absolute lack of a sense of humor and his stupid cologne-ad face.

Jerk. Teddy picked a stubborn dandelion fluff off his elbow. “What are you doing here? It’s summer session. You’re at soccer camp.”

Jefferson arched an eyebrow. He leaned his hip against the porch, his Ioannes tank clinging tightly to his pecs. Unlike Teddy, he tanned instead of burned. Freckles had never dared show their faces on his skin, no matter how much time he spent kicking little white balls around, broiling on a practice field. “Am I really? Look again. Unless you think I’m a figment of your imagination.”

“My imagination can do better than that,” Teddy said. Okay, maybe not much better. He could admit to an aesthetic appreciation for the benefits of good nutrition and plentiful exercise, and maybe some good genetics, but that was it. There, he drew the line. He lifted his chin. “Are you playing hooky or what?”

Jefferson ignored the question. He reached out to take one of Teddy’s hands, the move so surprising that Teddy actually let him do it — until Jefferson flipped it from back to front and wrinkled his nose. “Nice manicure. You and Noelani go to the same place to get your nails done?”

Teddy bristled up. He might be small, but he was a redhead, by God, and he had the temper to match. And it was a nice manicure. He jerked his hand back and flashed the nails, neatly shaped and trimmed and painted a sparkly blue, at the… the… oaf, finishing with the middle ones up. “I can get you a discount if you want. Nail Me Spa on Maple. I don’t know if they can do much for athlete’s foot.”

Jefferson chuffed a short breath through his nose and glowered at Teddy. “I was just saying. Jeez. Why do you always have to get all fired up?”

Teddy ignored his question with what he hoped was grand aplomb. Ooh, Jefferson always got him wound so tight. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, planting his feet on the sidewalk.

“What do you think?” Jefferson turned to pick up a duffel that’d been hidden in his shadow and hitched the strap over one shoulder. “I’m moving in.”

“You’re what?”

 

More from Willa 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.

You can reach Willa at willaokati@gmail.com.

Join Willa on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/willa.okati.

 

 

The Fixer Upper by Maggie Mae Gallagher #NewRelease #Contemporary #RomanceBooks @magmaegallagher 

 

Praise for The Fixer Upper:

“Maggie Mae Gallagher writes with warmth and a wonderfully compelling voice – I loved The Fixer Upper!” NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR HEATHER GRAHAM

“Maggie Mae Gallagher makes the reader forget the actual words on the page so they can just enjoy the story as it unfolds.” Nancy Berland, NBPR, Inc. President

 

The_Fixer_Upper-Final

 

Abby Callier is more in love with Shakespearean heroes than any real man, and she’s beginning to wonder if there is life for her outside the pages of a book. It doesn’t help that her esteemed parents tend to view her as they would one of their science experiments gone wrong. On the eve of finishing her dissertation, she escapes her staid existence to live in the house she inherited from her Great Aunt Evie in the small town of Echo Springs, Colorado. Because, let’s face it, when a woman starts comparing her life to horror films, it might be time for a break.

Sheriff Nate Barnes believes in law and order and carefully building the life you want. In his spare time, he has been remodeling his house in the hope that one day it will be filled with the family he makes. But Nate doesn’t like drama or complications and tends to avoid them at all costs. And yet, when Miss Abigail Callier, his newest neighbor, beans him with a nine iron, he can’t help but wonder if she might just be the complication he’s been searching for all along. It doesn’t hurt that he discovers a journal hidden away by the previous tenant and decides to use Old Man Turner’s advice to romance Abby into his life.

Abby never expected her next-door neighbor, the newly dubbed Sheriff Stud Muffin, to be just the distraction her world needed. The problem is she doesn’t know whether she should make Echo Springs her home, or if this town is just a stopover point in her life’s trajectory. And she doesn’t want to tell Nate that she might not be sticking around—even though she should because it’s the right thing to do, the honest thing—because then all the scintillatingly hot kisses with the Sheriff will come to an abrupt halt. Did she mention that he’s a really great kisser?

Where to find a copy…

Amazon https://amzn.to/2kmZHUm
Amazon Print https://amzn.to/2ZAv3t4
Nook http://bit.ly/2wP9KUD
Kobo http://bit.ly/2NHFlCX
iBooks https://apple.co/2YImFE6
Books-A-Million http://bit.ly/2k2czPw
Indie Bound http://bit.ly/2lwwW7T

 

About Maggie Mae Gallagher…

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Maggie grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Maggie never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Maggie is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes erotic romance under the name Anya Summers. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.

Find Maggie on Social Media:

Facebook

Instagram

Goodreads

Twitter: @magmaegallagher 

Amazon

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Get Off My Cloud by Anne Kane #RomCom #NewRelease #AlternateUniverse @changelingpress @AnneKane

AnK_SISCloud

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Six months ago, Lucas met the woman of his dreams, but after a night of amazing sex he woke up to find himself alone. Sent to rescue the daughter of a billionaire from her own folly, he discovers her to be the same woman, and this time he intends to make sure she stays put.

When Olivia discovers a herd of live dinosaurs existing on a small island in the South Pacific, she’s ecstatic. This discovery could crown her career as a paleontologist and put to rest the rumors that her daddy bought her position for her! Of course, when her father sends someone to drag her home, she’s not willing to comply and the couple must find a way to deal with the sizzling attraction between them while running from a herd of angry prehistoric beasts.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for September 13th at retailers

 

   

 

Praise for Get Off My Cloud (Set in Stone)

“I really enjoyed this story – how it turned the tables on the usual “love ‘em and leave ‘em” style of man. I really enjoyed both Lucas’ and Olivia’s characters. A quick and steamy read, this was a fun short story.”

— Fern, Long and Short Reviews

 

cooltext323576931071680

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Anne Kane

The voyage had been rougher than Lucas had expected. The fishing trawler he’d rented to get himself from the mainland over to the small island where the target was located had bucked and heaved on the choppy waters, at times threatening to turn itself upside down. Not an ideal ride, but it did the job. He was on the island. Now all he needed to do was locate his employer’s daughter and convince her to leave with him. Grabbing his backpack of supplies, he set out to find her.

Good thing the island was so small. As it was, it was past noon before he caught sight of a battered old canvas tent on the east side of a grassy meadow at the foot of a small hill. He made his way down to the bottom of the hill, cursing the lack of any kind of trail to follow. The low scrub bush that blanketed the area made foot travel slow going. Once he made it to the edge of the flat meadow, he paused to scout out the lay of the land. He wasn’t sure of the best way to approach the woman. She had no idea who he was, and she just might be armed. She would be perfectly justified in defending herself against an unknown male who suddenly showed up unannounced. The last thing he wanted was to engage in a shootout with his employer’s daughter.

Lucas pulled his field glasses out of his backpack and studied the base camp. Two facts immediately slammed into his disbelieving brain. Hard to tell which was more astounding. Firstly, those four-legged creatures stretching up to munch on the tops of the trees definitely did look like dinosaurs.

And secondly, Mr. Billionaire’s daughter was none other than the woman he’d spent one unbelievably fabulous night with almost half a year ago. The woman who’d seduced him, fucked him gloriously senseless and then disappeared before he managed to regain consciousness the following morning.

Hell, he’d started to think he’d dreamed the whole thing. No woman could be that gorgeously curvy, that amazingly good in bed, and then just leave without expecting anything at all from him. He hadn’t even taken her out for dinner. Or breakfast. Not that he was cynical or anything but women were expensive. They didn’t do anything without expecting some kind of payback, and they sure as hell didn’t do all the things she’d done for him and with him and to him without very high expectations.

So when she’d disappeared without a trace, he’d been speechless. Speechless and, if he were honest with himself, just a tiny bit bereft.

He’d wanted more. More of her. More of them together. Taking a deep breath, he strode across the field toward the woman who’d starred in all of his X-rated dreams for the past six months.

He could tell the exact moment she became aware of his presence. Her head came up like a deer who’d suddenly scented a predator. She turned in his direction, and her lips formed a surprised “o.”

Yeah. She remembered him all right. It was in her eyes, in the way the pink tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips, in the way her nostrils flared as if breathing itself had become an issue.

Her lips curved upward in that slow, sexy smile he remembered so well, and it sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. Instant hard-on. Yeah. That was her, all right. Olivia. New-age hippie. The first woman to ever love him all night and leave him wanting more the next morning.

He was close enough now to look right into her eyes, to see the warmth there, the genuine happiness at seeing him again. He didn’t get it. She looked thrilled to see him now, so why had she left that morning without so much as a fleeting message, or a goodbye kiss?

 

More from Anne at Changeling Press …

Anne is a gorgeous supermodel who writes romance in her spare time while jetting around Europe with a string of boy-toys in tow.

Hmmm… no one is going to believe that. How about this?

Anne is an undercover agent for a super secret government agency and when not saving the world for democracy and all the good people, she writes romance one-handed on a special mini computer designed by a mad scientist just for her.

Yeah, that sounds way better. So, ignore the people who tell you she’s just an ordinary person with an extraordinary imagination. They’re just jealous because she gets to play with James Bond and vacation in exotic locations.

Honestly!

When she’s not busy saving the world or writing the next great novel, she likes to kayak, hike, ride motorcycles, swim, skate, practice karate, play her guitar, sing and of course, read.

You can find her online at:
Website: www.AnneKane.com
Blog: www.annekane.wordpress.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/annekane
Facebook: www.facebook.com/anne.kane.author

 

 

Sir Spanksalot by Alice Gaines #PNR #RomCom #scifi #NewRelease

Transported into her favorite game, SexScape, Maddy
meets a sexy devil named Sir Spanksalot. Really.

 

2913

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

 

Maddy’s “career” is in personal injury law, representing plaintiffs in silly lawsuits. To escape, she plays SexScape on her tablet computer. One night, after winning a particularly difficult level, she finds herself whooshed into the game itself and confronted by an indecently attractive man who claims his name is Sir Spanksalot. Spanking is not her thing, but blazing hot sex with Spanksalot is.

Spanksalot is sure The League has chosen this difficult but seductive woman to be his mate. Only two problems — she seems to be in love with a man named Samuel. And she has a hang-up about his specialty, spanking. Turns out Samuel is Maddy’s fantasy lover and no threat to Spanksalot. When Maddy discovers the fun of having her bottom gently paddled, the two of them become a match made in SexScape.

 

button_get-it-today (2)

or pre-order at retailers for August 30th

   

 

 

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Alice Gaines

Maddy’s game had a new character. She’d played SexScape long enough to hate the little guy with the crown zipping around on his motorcycle. He’d lost her more levels than she could remember, and if she ever got a chance to blast him with some evil weapon, she’d do it in a heartbeat. Only nothing she’d tried had worked on him yet, and she could scream obscenities at him all she wanted. He just kept showing up in the very worst parts of the display at the very worst times and ruining her shots.

But this morning, just as he’d started up with his mind-fuck, someone else had shown up. A woman, also tiny and also wearing a crown. The color of her motorcycle matched her outfit — fire-engine red. She did battle with the man — zigging when he zagged and replacing the tiles he’d destroyed so they arranged themselves in neat patterns that Maddy could fell with one or two moves.

“You go, sister,” Maddy cheered her hero on. For a while, she simply sat and watched the two perform their motorized dance from one side of the screen of her tablet to the other. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Maddy couldn’t tear herself away even though it meant being late for work… again. This was too fabulous to miss.

Then, the two of them went to opposite corners. The bikes engines revved, and they flew toward each other. When they met in the middle of the screen, a Screaming-O Bomb went off, and Maddy won level 1023.

Then the room began to spin around her as she fell into a dark tunnel. Nothingness closed around her — an almost complete lack of sensation. She was floating with no sense of up or down, backward or forward. Could the game have done this to her, or was she dreaming? If so, how could she wake herself up? She was supposed to do something, but what? Work, damn it. She was supposed to be at work.

Finally, a light showed in the distance, and she got a sense of direction. She was headed toward it. As it enlarged, she got a view of a landscape. Pretty. No, beautiful. Trees and grasses and sunlight. Warm. She could do worse than end up there, wherever there was.

When the dream or voyage ended, Maddy found herself on her ass in a shallow stream. All around her, tall trees of a kind she’d never seen before reached toward a cloudless sky. Pretty place, but the water wasn’t exactly a spa. More like a refrigerator.

She scrambled to get up, but the stones at the bottom of the stream were slick with water and moss, so she only ended up on her ass once more. Rather than try that exact maneuver again, she used her hands to push herself up and skittered on all fours to the side of the stream. There she found a flat rock warmed by the sun and took a seat to examine her surroundings.

She’d been here before, even though she’d never been any place like this. That made no sense, but neither did the transition she’d just experienced.

She’d been sitting at the table in the dining room in her apartment playing the stupid game that plagued her when, all of a sudden, whoosh… something had sucked her into the tunnel and dropped her here. Was this her prize for winning the latest diabolical level SexScape had used to torment her for weeks? If so, the reward ought to include some sex, even if imaginary. It wasn’t supposed to be a pleasant walk in the woods. Or cold splash, as the case might be.

Why did this place seem so familiar? An inner-city girl, she’d mostly visited trees in parks either close to home or at the end of a bus line. So, why did it seem she’d wandered beneath these trees along the side of the stream? Being here felt like living inside one of her dreams. Or…

No, not a dream. SexScape. She’d deliberately chosen the wilderness path in the game. She got enough city with constant noise and dirty air in her real life, thank you very much. So, she’d settled on woods and beaches and the occasional mountaintop. Scenery like what surrounded her right now.

Hoofbeats sounded in the distance, rapidly approaching where she sat. She got up from her seat on the rock and glanced around for a place to hide. The horse might be out for a run on its own, or it might have a rider. If she got a look at the person as they passed through, she could decide whether or not to call for help. In any case, discretion won out over valor, and she ducked behind one of the big trees.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the horse and rider showed themselves. But they didn’t dash across the stream to continue on. The rider pulled up the reins, and the horse stopped, breathing hard and stamping a hoof as if impatient to keep going.

The rider — a man wearing a flowing black cape — held the reins tight and glanced all around. Truly, there wasn’t much to see of him because the cape covered him from his neck and over his body. It even draped over the horse’s hindquarters and rump. And the man’s head appeared no more than a shock of platinum hair. Finally, he turned toward her, and she got a brief glance at him before she had to plaster herself against the tree trunk again to hide.

That second or two revealed the most beautiful male face she’d ever laid eyes on. Blue eyes, full lips, and a devil’s smile exposing even white teeth.

“Ah, my lady, why do you hide yourself from me?” he asked.

Maybe he’d seen her, but maybe he hadn’t. She could try to wait him out to see if he’d ride off. She couldn’t try to get away from him. His horse could run her down easily.

“Am I really so frightening?” he said. “Or perhaps you’ve fallen in love with that tree.”

Good question. He didn’t seem dangerous, maybe just a little weird with the “my lady’s” and that yards-long cape. Without knowing where she was, especially if she’d fallen into her favorite game, she could use some help figuring out how to get back home. And for now, he appeared to be all the help she had.

She stepped out from behind the tree. “Can you tell me where I am?”

He jumped down and made a sweeping bow, the cape settling around him. “Sir Spanksalot at your service, lady.”

“I didn’t ask who,” she said. “I asked where.”

“You are exactly where you need to be.”

 

More from Alice at Changeling Press …

USA Today bestselling author Alice Gaines has published several sensuous and erotic works. She prefers stories that stretch the imagination, highlighting the power of love and sex. Alice has a Ph.D. in psychology from U. C. Berkeley and lives in Oakland, California, with her collection of orchids and her pet corn snake, Casper.

Alice loves to get mail at authoralicegaines@yahoo.com. You can sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/boeGm9.

 

 

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

Night Critters

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Sahara Kelly

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

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or Pre-Order at retailers for August 23rd

   

 

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

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

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

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

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

— Stacy Link, PNR Reviews

The Catnapped Lover ~ A Short Contemporary Romance by Rue Allyn #RomanceBooks #NewRelease #RomCom @RueAllyn

 

 

What does a bet between best friends have to do with a kidnapped cat and a tumbled-down animal shelter?  Nothing, unless you are Adam Talcott and you want to prove to your best-buddy that you can survive without access to your wealth and family connections.  Adam would have succeeded too, if it hadn’t been for Dierdre Clancy and that blasted cat.

Heat Rating: R

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EXCERPT

Balancing an armload of mail, an overloaded briefcase, and a gym bag with two yogurt cups teetering on top, Dierdre Clancy rushed to her cubicle. For the fourth time this week, and the umpteenth time this month, she was late. Once again, a power outage in the decrepit apartment building where she lived had caused her alarm clock to fail.

Please, Lord, don’t let my chauvinist pig of a boss realize I’ve been missing.

The yogurt cups threatened to topple off the gym bag. Dierdre wasn’t about to let her lunch decorate the linoleum. The mail showered to the floor. The briefcase hit her foot. With her free hand, she plastered the cups to her side. The gym bag slid down her arm. The webbed strap twisted, tourniquet style, around her wrist.

She managed a couple of sideways hops that brought her to the edge of her desk. The gym bag swung wildly. Leaning against the arm weighed down by the bag’s stranglehold, she managed to dump the yogurt cups onto the desk without mishap. She pulled herself upright and reached for the strap at her wrist.

Somehow, during all the hopping, the bag had swung around her legs and gotten wedged in the narrow space between her desk and file cabinet. The same strap that cut off circulation to her hand pressed into the backs of her knees, pinning her neatly to the desk. Only an act of extreme dexterity could save her from her own folly. Imbecile, why didn’t you make two trips?

Because I didn’t want to risk having the boss see me coming in late.

“Clancy! You’re late.”

Dierdre’s heart hit the ceiling. She knew the shout—a cross between an operatic tenor and a pig at slaughter. Still, she hadn’t been prepared to hear her boss’s screeching quite so soon.

 

HEROINE BIO

Dierdre Clancy grew up in a family of givers. Her parents were missionaries and often too busy saving other, less privileged people to realize how lonely and abandoned Dierdre felt. When she reached her teen years, she was shipped back to the USA to live with her Aunt Shea on Shea’s rundown farm and animal shelter. Finally she was in a stable environment with an adult she could count on. Dierdre went on to gain a degree in social work and took up the Clancy family tradition of helping others. Most of the time helping others was easy. But Adam Talcott broke that mold and every other box she tried to put him into. How could one man be so difficult to manage?

HERO BIO

Adam Talcott was born rich. He went into business with his best friend from college and made even more millions. His methods may be unorthodox, but he nearly always succeeds. Now he’s been challenged to live for two months without any of the privileges and resources he’s known all his life. Adam is confident that he can conquer this challenge as he has all others. But he didn’t count on Dierdre Clancy and that danged cat.

 

 

Ramblin’ Notes from the Author… Depression and the Will to Work

I have been self-employed for more than ten years now. I have been manic-depressive (now known as Bi-polar Disorder) all of my life. That’s more than sixty years, so I’ve got a lot of experience with emotional highs and lows. I won’t go into the technical history of depression and mania other than to say we know way more now than we did when I was young. Yet we still know too little about how emotions work, leaving us with the conclusion that every person’s experience is unique.
My experience of mania is that it’s a lot of fun. I get this extended burst of energy and enthusiasm. I accomplish goals and finish tasks at an amazing rate. As an author, mania means I make huge amounts of progress on my writing projects. All I have to do to get work done is willit. I feel as if, with enough time, I  could climb mountains and solve-world problems. I feel “normal.” I’m not, but I feel that way.
However, mania doesn’t last. The slide from mania to depression is insidious for me. I rarely recognize when it’s happening. Tasks that were easy become increasingly difficult. Goals are nearly never met. No amount of will can help me write or accomplish other projects. And then there’s the anger.
Yes anger. Remember, I’m writing about my experience. I’m an author not a doctor (,Jim). The frustration of not achieving at my ‘normal’ or ‘manic’ rate is tremendous. When I’m in a depressive state I can’t write. The ideas are there but I just don’t have the will to write them down. I don’t know who to blame for this, nor do I immediately recognze depression as the cause. Something unidentifiable is making me depressed. I blame all sorts of things, because I’m not performing at manic levels. And I’m angry because a) I can’t achieve at the same rate as when I’m “normal” or manic, and b) becasue in the moment I can’t recognize that it’s my own mental chemistry that is the root cause.
Life was this endless cycle of emotional highs and lows until nearly fifty years after I was born–fifty years of living with this endless cycle–I finally gave in and decided that I needed medication. I won’t tell you what I take. What works for me may not work for you or someone you love who struggles with manic-depression. Please seek professional help if you’re suffering any kind of mental distress. I will tell you that I am very, very lucky. My medical team hit the right medication on the first try. We spent several months finding the right dosage. Close to two decades after making that decision, I still take the same medication. And I take it religiously.
The medication helps me recognize what point I’m at in my manic-depressive cycle. I can listen to myself complaining that I “can’t get anything done,” that “the writing isn’t working,” and recognize that is a symptom of my depression rather than a condition that someone or something else imposed on me. I can express enthusiasm and enjoy the mania at the same time that I can recognize it for what it is–a symptom of Bi-polar Disorder. The medication doesn’t make my symptoms go away. It does help me recognize what’s happening with my mental state. That recognition has been a literal life-saver.
It has also saved my writing career. Now, when I go more than two or three days without writing or doing the myriad other things a self-employed author must do, I understand that my mental state is the root cause. I can overcome depression and mania both. But it takes a force of will. Medication doesn’t cure my problem. Medicaton makes it manageable. And managing any sort of career, writing included takes the will to work. The will do sit in the chair and type. The will to contact reviewers, and bloggers, and social media outlets and interact with them on a continuing basis whether I ‘feel like it’ or not. The will to format my books for sale, and set them up for distribution. The will to maintain and improve my website. The will to do so many, many things that make up my work. The same is true for all of us, but especially those who suffer emotional dis-orders. The will to work is an absolute necessity in your arsenal of tools for combating whatever emotional problem(s) you might have.
I have one request. Normally I’d ask you to comment, and I would still love for you to do that. More important to me, is that you seek help. Don’t go fifty years, as I did, before asking for help. Keep asking, keep searching, never give up. A solution for emotional distress is out there. You can find the solution that works for you. However, no matter what you are feeling at any given moment, you must have the will to continue. The will to do your personal work. Give yourself that much. Determine. Be stubborn. Will yourself to do what must be done, and that is to get help.
PS: This has been a rather serious RAmble. But it does include one bit of fun. Can you spot it? Comment here if you do.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hi, I’m Rue Allyn, I write heart melting romance novels. Books about characters and adventures in which love triumphs at the darkest moment. The kind of hopeful, steal-your-breath romance that melts a reader’s heart. The type of book I like to read. Hope you will too.

Freebie~~Get a FREE download of Rue Allyn’s May 2019 release Forever Hold My Heart, a Scottish historical novella. Just sign up for her newsletter here https://www.rueallyn.com/ravonsubscribe/.

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