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

 

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

 

Molten (Box Set) (Molten 4)

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Loved by the Elite Commander by Jessica Coulter Smith #scifi #aliens #alienencounters #SFR #eroticromance @changelingpress

 

She’s the only hope for my people, our salvation.
I never thought I’d fall in love with her.

elitecommanderfinal

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Futuristic, Sci-fi,
Alien Encounters, Alternate Universe, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance

 

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My people are dying out, and if my generation doesn’t find compatible mates soon then my people will become extinct. When I hear of a race called Humans who are capable of breeding with Elorian males, I know we must find some and convince them to mate with single males on Elora.

Their home planet is too far from my own, but a ship of slaves crash-landed on X-2 five hundred years ago and many were of the Human race. It’s there I know I’ll find the females who will save my kind.

It never occurred to me that I would be the first to claim a mate, or that she would have been so horribly abused. Despite her horrific past, my sweet Marcy gives me a chance, and now that she’s mine I will do anything in my power to protect her.

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Jessica Coulter Smith

The sun on the unforgiving planet beat down, making it hard to breathe. My parents were long gone, and there was no one left to protect me.

The colony I called home was a lawless place where men dominated and females were no better than slaves. I knew our history, had heard of my ancestors and how they’d been captured on another world, taken into slavery. Then the ship had crash-landed here, and the survivors had created a new home.

The alien slavers had died, but the slaves had all lived. Mostly Human, though there were a few other races that seemed peaceful most of the time. The others kept to themselves and didn’t interfere.

My mother had told me stories about Earth, the world our people had come from, and how wonderful it had been. The stories had been passed from her mother, and so on all the way back to the original Humans who had landed on X-2. There had been something called television and movies, music, and tall glass buildings that reached up into the sky.
She’d said that women had the same rights as men on our home planet, and were given a voice even when selecting leaders. It seemed a bit strange to me, not having known any of those things, but it was nice to think there was a place like that out there somewhere.

Our current home was a nightmare. The red dirt coated everything, and the sun stayed bright and hot for all but a few hours out of each day. Unlike the Earth my mother had spoken of, women here had no rights of any kind. Whatever a man told us to do, we had to comply immediately or face the consequences. Some of my friends had learned the hard way exactly what that meant, and bile rose in my throat as I thought about it. Each punishment was made public to make an example of the woman who had dared to disobey. It didn’t matter if a man asked you to fetch him food, or strip off your clothes. We weren’t allowed to say no to anything.

I’d heard of females running and hiding. I didn’t know how true that was, or if they were even still alive if they had managed such a feat. The only shelters I knew of were the crude homes and buildings of our small village. Sometimes I wished there was a place I could hide as well. Men didn’t take wives, like my mother had said happened on Earth, and those who did choose a female to bear their children didn’t remain faithful to them. Women were cattle to be used as the men saw fit. Breeders, or a thing to play with.

I felt Bruce’s hand slide up my arm as he crowded me. Revulsion filled me, but I knew better than to pull away. I’d been his favorite for a while. Not his ‘only’, by any means, but his favorite. I’d have gladly given that honor up to someone else. The brute never cared if he hurt me, and I sometimes felt like he got off on making me scream. My body still wore the bruises he’d left the last time he’d forced my submission.

Better me than some of the others, though. In this lawless society men didn’t temper their needs for any reason, which meant even the teen girls were fair game. My mother had assured me on our home world something like that would have been cause for punishment, that men could be imprisoned for the things they did here. I often wondered if what she said was true, or merely a story to give me hope that life could be better.
There were times I wished both the aliens and slaves on the crashed ship had died that day rather than live like this another moment. Bruce’s hand tightened on me and he turned me to face him.

“You’re going to serve drinks to me and my friends tonight, Marcy. And you’re going to be a good girl, aren’t you?” he asked.

Like I had much of a choice. I nodded and refused to meet his gaze.

“Good.” His hand petted me some more. “After our card game, we’ll all have some fun.”

Oh, God! Anything but that! I knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t uncommon for Bruce to have game nights, and after they were well and truly drunk, they’d take turns with whatever woman had been serving them that night.

I tried not to tremble or give away my fear and disgust. By some miracle, I’d never gotten pregnant, but sooner or later that luck would run out. I’d either give birth to a daughter who would face the same fate as me, or a son who would become a monster. I couldn’t stand the thought of either scenario.

“Go brush out your hair and come to my place. Don’t be late,” he said.

Just as quickly as he’d arrived, he was gone. My body sagged and I couldn’t stop the tears that tracked my cheeks. I couldn’t do it! Not again. There was so much I’d endured since I’d turned sixteen and caught a man’s eye, but I knew I was slowly losing my mind. I should be grateful.

I’d been late in becoming a woman, my body not changing until much later than the others. Had I developed curves and begun my monthly bleeding at an earlier age, I doubted the men would have waited until I was sixteen. A few women in our small colony had already broken and taken their lives. I knew if I had to endure much more, I would follow in their steps. I refused to believe that my life was supposed to be like this.

I crept into the hall of the cracked and crumbling building we called home. As silently as I could, I managed to flee into the hot air outside. A breeze caressed me and gave me the courage to move forward.

Freedom! That’s what I tasted, what I smelled… No matter what happened, I wasn’t going back! I silently made my way through the winding path of crumbling buildings until I reached the outer wall. The guard at the gate had his head slumped, probably having had too much to drink.

I ran, my bare feet digging into the soil and broken bits of rock that served as a road to the other alien settlements. The original survivors had broken off into groups, and set up colonies on this small, dry planet. The trees beckoned, their brown and orange leaves crackling in the air, and I pushed myself, not daring to look back and only moving forward. I ran until my lungs burned and my legs ached. Pain pierced my side and I didn’t think I could go much further.

A few land vehicles had been salvaged from the crashed ship and still ran even all these years later. The Human colony had one, as did two other settlements. I heard one approaching and crouched, hoping to blend in with the scratchy branches and dead leaves lining the roadway. My heart pounded so loud I worried they could hear it.

A hand covered my mouth and I was jerked against a large, hard body.

“Quiet,” a male voice said in my ear. The accent was different from anything I remembered hearing before, and my body tensed, but I knew better than to fight. If anything, my life had taught me that to deny a male would only end in more pain and suffering.

The hovercraft drove past and the male holding me moved further back into the dead foliage. Once the sound of the patrol was gone, I was released. I stumbled, nearly falling to the ground, but the guy caught me, holding me against his broad chest. I stared at it a moment, then blinked and blinked again.

His broad gold chest. My panic rose again as I realized that none of the survivors on this world were gold.

I whimpered, but my upbringing in this hostile place had taught me not to fight. I hung limply in the stranger’s embrace and hoped that if he wanted to kill me, that it would be quick and painless. The fact I’d never seen anyone like him before made me tremble, and I worried about what would happen to me. When had a new race of aliens landed on X-2?

The sheer size of him was intimidating, as he towered over me and was rather broad. Not from fat, because his arms and chest appeared to be thickly muscled. His eyes seemed like liquid gold as I looked up at him. Long black hair cascaded over his shoulders and down his back, with a braid on either side of his face. His jaw was covered in a short beard and there was a scar along one cheek. Something flicked against my ankles and I looked down, gasping when I saw a long, slender tail. I’d never seen anything on two legs with one of those before. It was golden like him, with a puff of black at the tip. As I studied his face again, I realized there were three ridges across his brow that looked like some sort of hard plating.

“You’re safe now, female,” he said. “My name is J-Ril, and I mean you no harm.”

 

 

The Triad’s Pet by Marteeka Karland #DarkFantasy #scifi #bisexual #NewRelease @changelingpress @marteekakarland

The Triad has taken Arryn to be their pet, but Arryn has other ideas in mind.

The Triad's Pet (The Outcasts 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
Genres/Themes: Dark Fantasy, scifi, Bisexual, multiple partners

A feisty outcast

Arryn’s life has always been awkward. The daughter of a traitor and his pet, the only reason she is allowed to continue to live in the village is because of her exceptional talents in both healing and engineering. Even still, she knows how to pick her battles and lives a contented life.

A triad pledged to another

Being taken as a pet is one thing, but to be taken by a trio of men who have pledged to be the promised of another woman is intolerable. Perhaps the impression Arryn made when she saved Storm’s life was a strong one, but she certainly didn’t sign up to be a pet. Dealing with her budding feelings for the three warriors is hard enough, but knowing she can never have them is enough to break her heart. Not that she’d ever let it show.

A village under siege

When danger is deliberately brought into their midst, it’s up to Arryn to direct her men. But how can a pet convince three stubborn warriors to trust in her unique abilities?

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Five pet peeves from Arryn…

  1. Arrogant assholes
  2. Ignorant assholes
  3. Bossy assholes
  4. Assholes who think she’s less because she’s a woman
  5. ANYONE making her a pet

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Marteeka Karland

The battle in the distance had everyone in the village on edge. Not a single person here didn’t have someone in that fight. Even our kings, the Triad, were in this one because we all knew it was a fight for the city. A fight to the death.

“Arryn! You’re needed at the wall! The mechanism on the main catapult is frozen!” That was my best friend, Lassa. She was the fastest runner in the village and, at times like these, she was needed everywhere.

I wanted to protest — organizing medical supplies and a place to bring the wounded was necessary, too. But Lassa was already off to carry the next message. Besides, Lorgan, our village healer and head of the Council of Elders, had made it clear he didn’t want my input. He needed it, though. When the wounded started coming in, assuming we weren’t overrun and invaded by the opposing tribes, he was going to have a mess on his hands.

Oh, well. Not my fight.

Yet.

As I hurried off to the wall, I noticed the shift in the breeze. Now it came from the sea rather than inland. Never a good sign. Off in the distance, a black cloud loomed menacingly and lightning flashed, filling me with dread.

As if the fates had heard my fear and misgivings, I heard soldiers gathering near the city gates. In the midst of them was one of our Triad. The other two were already on the battlefield. One always stayed back to see to the city defenses. If the last king was readying to enter the fray on the battlefield, things were bad indeed.

I watched as the tall man on a tall horse directed soldiers with every expectation he would be obeyed without question. His hair was black as night, his skin bronzed and glinting with sweat. Plate armor encased a powerful chest, leather his arms and legs. The powerful steed he rode had guards for the king’s legs built onto the saddle that acted as additional armor. Though I’d lived here most of my life, I did my best to stay away from anything to do with the ruling factions. I knew who the kings were, the Triad, but I wasn’t sure which was which. I thought this one was Asher. They were important people and, because of my shady background, I tended to avoid them.

His sharp gaze scanned the ranks at the wall, calling several soldiers to his side and snapping orders. He’d readied a contingent of cavalrymen to go into battle. Then he looked up… directly at me. Clear blue eyes caught my gaze. Held me captive as easily as if he’d wrapped those brawny arms tightly around me, as if he’d been completely aware of me and where I was no matter what was going on around him.

The hard planes of his face were starkly beautiful, with masculine lines that seemed to have been designed to take a woman’s breath. If I’d actually been the type of woman affected by men like him, my heart would be beating faster, my breath catching in my throat. Instead, I’m sure I was just out of breath, my heart pounding from hurrying through the village. Had to be.

Then he nodded once in my direction, actually acknowledging me, before swinging his mount around and charging onto the battlefield with his men.

“Get over here, girl!” one of the guards snapped, completely shattering the spell King Asher had woven around me. The soldiers were usually courteous, but urgency stripped everyone of niceties. I understood and respected that, not taking offense in the least. “The pin won’t release the break!”

As I approached at a run, I could see the problem. “The spring’s melted!” I shouted to him over the din of soldiers. “Get the payload off and I’ll replace the spring!”

Easier said than done. The payload was a cauldron of flaming oil. Even as I told him what to do, I realized that wouldn’t be possible. “Never mind,” I muttered, snagging an iron bar next to the hulking catapult. All I had to do was release the break. Which was controlled by the spring. The heat from the payloads they’d been firing had melted the spring. That didn’t happen with proper maintenance and care in loading the payload. Either someone got in too big a hurry, or no one had maintained the equipment. During the heat of battle, that was understandable.

I swung the iron bar with all my might. It took three tries before another guard snagged it from me and gave one mighty swing, snapping the spring free. When it finally broke free, the brake handle flipped up, the recoil knocking me on my ass into the mud when I jumped out of the way, but the arm swung, sending the flaming projectile hurling through the air. I didn’t notice where it went because I’d had to scramble to my feet and was frantically trying to free the broken bits of the release lever to get at the spring and break.

The soldier in charge of this engine was hurrying to bring me the parts he knew I’d need. Tools were already scattered around where men had been attempting to solve the problem.

I worked as swiftly as I could, repairing what I’d broken as well as replacing the vital spring that allowed the weapon to launch. I have no idea how long it took — seemed like forever — but finally, I was able to give the go ahead. “Test the fucker!” I shouted.

Soldiers cranked the wheel, creating tension. The sling was empty, but we couldn’t risk loading it before it was tested in case I’d fucked up.

“Release!” the guard snapped. The arm let go and swung upward in a smooth motion. Without another word, the soldiers began cranking the wheel again, readying the catapult for its payload.

They loaded another cauldron, filled it with oil, then set it ablaze. The guard gave the command to release it and, again, the weapon functioned exactly as it was supposed to. He turned to look at me. Nodded once, then turned his attention back to his duty.

I was the one everyone went to when things broke. The only problem was, I was a nobody. The bastard daughter of a traitor and a pet not his own, most thought me incapable of anything good.

My mother had been a nomad. Captured and sold as a pet, she’d run off with my father, having his child shortly before they’d landed in our village. Years later, my father, having worked his way up as a tradesman, betrayed the Triad by showing an enemy scout how to navigate the maze leading from the village to the Triad compound. He’d been jailed for a trial that had taken months when most times justice was swift and sure. In the meantime, the Council of Elders had given my mother to Lorgan, the head of the Council, in anticipation of my father’s execution. Things had gone horribly wrong after that. It was said that my mother “forced” Lorgan into what was considered “deviant behavior.” Lorgan had convinced the council to sentence my mother to death. At least, that was the official account. I had no idea what had happened immediately following that horrible incident, but my father, having been found guilty of the charges against him, had been exiled instead of executed.

That left me on my own at eleven years old, so I learned to fend for myself. By the time I was sixteen, I could fix anything. Which is how I’d come to design reinforcements for the city wall four years later. But, I mean, what could anyone expect? Their plan was piss poor and mine wasn’t.

While I was at the catapults, I hurried to inspect the area where the wall crossed the river. If there was a weakness in the defenses, it was here. Instead of building with the river on the outside, the elders had wanted it inside, so there was a ready supply of fresh water, which meant the iron gate was the only thing preventing invaders from breaching the city walls. It was fortified with guard towers and all kinds of weapons, but from the looks of things, every man not needed to operate crossbows and catapults was outside on the battlefield. There were a few soldiers on the battlements, but they were mostly boys in their teens. All of them looked terrified. This was why I’d insisted on making sure the design of the wall over the river was strong. I knew the Elders would demand all the defensive strength be focused on the main part of the city. Had the builders followed the original plan designed by some fuck dumber than dirt, we’d have been screwed the second the enemy engaged that section of the wall.

Looking through the grate to the battlefield beyond, it seemed like the fight was still far off. If they broke the lines, however, any enemy who’d studied the layout of the village would know the river was the weakest point and would charge it with everything they had.

I picked up a rock and threw it at one of the boys on the wall. Missed. Tried again. Didn’t make it to the wall that time. Fuck. I was definitely not warrior material. “Hey!” I yelled, waving my arms over my head. “Hey, hey!” One of the boys turned around. Cristiano, his name was.

“Arryn? What are you doing over here! The catapult’s messed up! They need you at the gate!”

“I fixed it, Cris. How is it looking from your end? Can you hold them if they break the line?”

The young man looked around, fear on his face. “I don’t know, Arryn. We’ve got weapons ready, but if it comes down to it…” He shook his head. “All I know is, I’m scared now and we’re not even in the fight.”

“Hold them together, Cris,” I said, scanning the inner wall for anyone I thought might be able to help. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’d sure love to have Granda here about now,” the younger man commented. “He isn’t very strong in a fight, but he’s a fierce leader.”

Which was a great idea. We needed something more at the river than the iron grate, but in this situation the men on the wall needed an experienced leader worse. “Drop the reinforcements!” I called to Cris. “It’s the best stationary defense you’ve got for the river.”

“We’re not supposed to do that except when it’s imminent we’re going to be charged,” he called back.

“Do you think your men can get the heavy son of a bitch in place if the enemy breaks the lines? Because you’ll need to be firing at them with everything you’ve got.”

“I’m on it,” he said, as I knew he would.

With one last look at the wall, I sprinted off to the main gate. The largest contingent of guards and soldiers was there. If there was a plan in place to defend the riverside, someone there would know.

“Where have you been, Arryn?”

That angry voice belonged to Lorgan. Head of the Council of Elders and all-around dumbfuck, Lorgan was all about making himself look good. He never wanted me anywhere around unless he was about to fuck something up. Or needed someone to clean up something he’d already fucked up.

Much as I wanted to make sure he wasn’t actually killing anyone with his horrible techniques, if the river wall wasn’t as fortified as it could be, the entire village could be in jeopardy. “Not now, Lorgan,” I said as I sprinted by. He sputtered and swore at me but didn’t bother to give chase. Which was my test as to if he was actually about to kill someone with ignorance. If Lorgan was in real trouble, he wouldn’t let up. I’d have to deal with him later, but right now, I had more pressing concerns.

“Who’s in charge?” I’d reached the main gate, out of breath and panting. Sweat dripped from my forehead into my eyes. My thin, sleeveless dress clung to my damp skin and my wine-red hair stuck to my face and neck uncomfortably. The soldiers were in full leather armor. As hot and miserable as I was, they had to be even worse.

“Arryn!” That was Hadin. Third in command of the city watch and training to be a captain in the Triad’s guard, he took his job very seriously. One of the reasons he’d make a good leader.

“The defense at the river. Those boys are good and throwing their heart into it, but really need a strong leader.”

“Cristiano is on it. He’ll be fine.”

“Just one experienced soldier, Hadin. Please. Just one.”

Hadin glanced in my direction before turning back to the group of men who’d begun to gather around him. Hadin was one of the few of the villagers in a position of power who actually took me seriously. “I don’t have one, Arryn. They’ll be fine. It’s not likely the Blackheart soldiers will break the line in any event. Especially if we keep pounding them with fire bombs.”

“Cris is asking for help. He’s a good guard but knows he’s in over his head.”

“No doubt because you asked him if he was overwhelmed,” Hadin snapped. “The city is under attack. We all have a job to do. Including you, Arryn. I suggest you get to yours and leave me to mine!” The man normally wasn’t so snippy, but I understood and would never hold it against him.

I also knew better than to argue. I’d expressed my opinion and Cristiano’s fears. That was all I could do. At least, it was all I could do here. My philosophy? Why waste time arguing that could better be spent doing something about the problem?

Whirling, I ran to the inner wall. Our city was formed in a circle. The Council of Elders and their families lived in the center, which was walled off. The theory was, if the city were ever under attack, women and children from all over the village would gather inside the inner wall and be protected from invaders. At least that was the argument the elders had put forth to have it built in the first place.

It was also a last line of defense for everyone. In reality, the elders generally locked themselves in, hunkered down, and expected everyone to protect them and their families. For the most part, any women and children who were not helping the soldiers and healers huddled just outside the inner walls in hopes that, if the outer wall was breached, those behind the inner wall would let them in.

I knew better.

At the festival square, the entrance to the inner wall, I found Cristiano’s granda, Malachi. Though the older man was completely white headed and missing a leg below his knee, with his tall, muscular frame, he was still a commanding presence.

“Take the little ones to the underground shelter,” he said, his voice booming. The shelter was supposed to be used for food storage, but I could see some of the items not heat sensitive were stacked outside the shelter entrance next to the wall. “Any woman who wants to go with them would be most welcomed and appreciated. My Tessa can only control so many of the little varmints.”

He sounded put out, but I knew Malachi wanted every single woman and child in that shelter and would use any means necessary to convince them, even making it seem like Tessa was too frail to care for the children on her own. Not that Tessa needed the help. She was a force of nature.

“Cris needs you, Malachi,” I said without preamble. “At the river wall.”

Instantly, the old man’s gaze seemed to burn through me. “Are they under siege?”

“No, but they need a steady hand to guide them.” Malachi met my gaze with a level one of his own. “They’re scared. If they come under attack and panic…”

“You make sure everyone who needs to be there gets into the shelter,” he said. “Tessa can handle it once they’re all inside, but some of them will try to stay outside to help their men.”

“Do you need help getting to the wall?”

He gave me a look that said, If you ask me that one more time

“Never mind. Stupid question.”

He grunted in satisfaction and snagged his crutches. The man really shouldn’t have been able to move around as easily as he did, but he could move as quickly as a man half his age with both legs. Of all the people in the village, I admired Malachi and Tessa the most. Not only were they intelligent and hardworking, but they were fierce in their protection of those they considered family. The gods knew they’d been there for me when I needed them desperately.

Tessa ushered women and children inside the shelter. She looked frail and damned near helpless, but I knew better. So did everyone else, but it still worked. No one she ushered inside refused her.

“You should stay with me,” Tessa said decisively. “We could use your calming influence with the children.”

I blinked. “Tessa?”

“I mean,” she plucked at her apron, “I want you to be in here with us. Where it’s safe.”

“You know I can’t,” I said gently. “Is something wrong? Is there something you need you’re not telling me?”

The older woman sighed, dabbing at her eyes with her apron. “I’m just getting emotional in my old age.” She gave me a watery smile. “I have seven children and twenty-four grandchildren. None of them pull at my heart the way you do, child. I love them all, but I worry over you when I shouldn’t.”

“I’ll be fine, Granma,” I said, giving her the title all her grandchildren used. “You know I’m needed in the city.”

She pursed her lips. “Just don’t you let that Lorgan push you around. Someone needs to pull that man down a peg or two.”

I grinned. “I’m sure you’re the very one to do it, Granma.” I kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, Tessa. Take care of the young ones.”

“I love you, too, Arryn. Take care of yourself.”

I had just given Tessa a hug and closed the door to the underground shelter when I spotted Lassa running toward me. In the distance, it seemed like the sounds of battle were growing louder. As if an army were approaching the city.

Impossible!

“Release!” Haden’s shout penetrated through the din of battle closing in around us. Several flaming cauldrons were launched from the eight catapults along the walls. The big crossbows on the top of the walls were loaded with flaming arrows, which also released. A barrage of flaming arrows from archers behind the walls were shot as well. Which meant the city’s soldiers were close to the wall, likely in retreat.

Never had the Triad been bested in a direct battle for the city. My heart pounded. Just as I was about to head to the river to make sure the water grate was as fortified as it could be, I saw a group of riders enter the city at a gallop, heading for the healer’s tent. The doors were closed once more, indicating they were standing their ground outside.

“Protect the Triad!” a voice called. Which was odd. I’d never heard of the Triad putting their protection over any of the men they led. The trio always led the regiments into battle. One at the front, one with the cavalry, and one with the siege engines…

How could I be so stupid! King Asher had left the wall. None of the Triad had replaced him with Hadin. Which meant one of the Triad had fallen. That was what Lorgan had been fussing about. The king must not have been at the healer’s tent yet when Lorgan called for me. A runner would have been sent ahead to give notice for the healer to prepare; otherwise, had Lorgan needed my help with this particular problem, he’d have run me down immediately. He’d likely thought he could handle it on his own but wanted backup. The man they’d just taken into the healer’s tent was one of our kings.

Fuck.

MORE BOOKS BY MARTEEKA KARLAND

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.

Emelia’s Soldiers by Isabella Jordan #AdventureRomance #scifi #bisexual #multiplepartners #NewRelease @changelingpress @isyjordanauthor

Two gorgeous soldiers want to save Emelia from the web
they’re caught in. But can they let her go?

 

Emelia's Soldiers (Ghost Unit 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Scifi, Bisexual,
Multiple Partners, Men and Women in Uniform

 

Tired of being taken for granted, Emelia Drake decides to confront her latest loser boyfriend. Instead of the satisfaction she hoped for, she finds herself caught in an elaborate and dangerous web.

Nick Cormac and Chase Turner seek to protect an innocent woman from the web of darkness that’s shattered their lives. The survivors of dark experiments and torture at the hands of a mercenary who wanted to create a legion of superior soldiers, Nick and Chase are part of an elite, highly-skilled group intending to stop the mercenary once and for all.

They know Emelia is too good for them and their world, but that doesn’t change the fact that they want her. Will they be able to keep her safe? How can they ever let her go?

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Nick, Chase, and Emelia: What are your favorite movies?

Nick: I enjoy a good comedy. The Deadpool movies are pretty good. I like Zombieland – and that’s got a sequel coming out this year, right? Zombie movies are fun.

Emelia: (Laughs) You never watch anything with zombies. You liked Zombieland. That’s it. You bitch every time Chase or I want to watch The Walking Dead.

Nick: The Walking Dead is depressing, and I haven’t been into that show since that old farmer guy died.

Chase: I still watch it but yeah, I’ll give you that. Hershel’s loss was one we never got over.

Nick: But for me? Comedies. The Big Lebowski. Bridesmaids. The Hangover movies.

Chase: Real intellectual stuff. (laughs with Emelia)

Nick: (Mouths) Fuck you.

Chase: I like a good spy or espionage flick now and again. I like the James Bond movies, even the old ones when you catch them on.

Nick: Two words. Reality television.

Emelia nods.

Chase: (Blows out an exhale) Yeah, right. I watch Dateline when I can’t sleep at night. What else is on?

Emelia: We have Amazon Prime, Netflix, Hulu… so like a million other things honestly.

Chase: (play shoves Emelia) I like Game of Thrones, but it feels like it hasn’t been on for like ten years.

Emelia: Me too!

Nick: It’s okay. It’s a lot to keep up with.

Chase: You think? For two years, you thought Tywin Lannister and Stannis Baratheon were the same dude.

Nick: Who?

Chase: (laughs with Emelia) For me, anything but historical movies or chick flicks. Those are her arena.

Emelia: (rolls her eyes) I watch things besides chick flicks.

Nick: Like?

Emelia: I loved Creed 2. And the first one.

Chase: Because you think that Creed guy is cute.

Emelia: Michael B. Jordan is beautiful.

Nick: Mm-hm. (Chase shakes his head)

Emelia: Game of Thrones hardly qualifies as a chick flick.

Chase: You like the guy who got his hand chopped off.

Emelia: Jaime Lannister is beautiful. (Shakes her head at her two guys grumbling) I also like the Great British Baking Show, Stranger Things. Oh, and I like True Detective.

Nick: Do you even know what that is?

Emelia: Yeah, I mean, I’ve just finished the first season with Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey. That was really good.

Nick: The second season was good too.

Chase: They did more?

Emelia: There’s a third season too.

Nick: We should watch it. I’ll re-watch what I’ve seen.

Chase: Sounds good to me.

Emelia: Sounds like a date. Wait, weren’t we supposed to be talking about movies though?

Nick: You mentioned Creed. We’re good.

Chase: Wanna watch True Detective later?

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Isabella Jordan

Emelia Drake’s heart dropped as she spotted Scott’s car parked at a seedy-looking bar on the outskirts of the city. Amy, her coworker who lived nearby, had mentioned seeing Scott’s very distinctive Camaro at the bar several times lately. Emelia wouldn’t have been curious except that over the last several days, she hadn’t had a lot of luck reaching him. Once he explained his phone’s battery had died. Another time he was out of range, working with some new client.

It had been a month now and she’d barely seen him. Emelia tried hard to give him the benefit of the doubt, she really did. Scott was an architect, and a good one. It was one of the reasons she liked having him as a boyfriend, shallow as it was to admit. But who was she kidding? Scott had cheated on her before. A couple of times. And the chants of “if he does it once” from well meaning friends were really starting to get old.

So, Emelia had gotten home from work, downed a couple of small glasses of bourbon for courage, and decided to go for a ride. In her gut, she knew she’d find him. She always did.

This time, though. This time she wouldn’t sit out in the parking lot staring at his car in tears. She had no intention of driving away in shame and waiting until he got tired of the other woman and came back to her. No. Not this time.

Climbing out of the car, Emelia braced herself. She was going to look so out of place in there. Here she was in her pencil skirt and blouse, kitten heels and her hair up in a neat twist. Why hadn’t her dumb ass changed clothes?

But she just had to do this. She had to face him down. Just once.

Because this was over.

Yanking open the door, she walked into a classic smoky barroom, filled with rougher people than she normally kept company with. Emelia mentally shook her head. What was Scott doing here? It usually pained him to converse with anyone making less than a hundred grand a year and he was here?

Some old rock tune with a heavy bass blared above the din of conversation around her. She tried to see if she could spot him there. She was half-praying that she wouldn’t, that it was an incredible coincidence, that someone had a Camaro just like his. She could go home, crawl into her bed, and just hide  there for a day or two.

When her heel caught on a rough board, Emelia almost went flying, but strong hands steadied her as she regained her balance. Turning, she glanced up at her rescuer and just stared. Steel blue eyes met hers set in a truly handsome face, all strong-jaw and nice lines with a scruffy beard and thick, wavy dark hair that just touched his shoulders.

Damn. Why had she never come here before?

“Thank you,” she told him, truly grateful that he saved her from making a spectacle of her self earlier than she intended.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze raking her over.

Emelia nodded, looking him over, too. He was all muscles covered in denim and leather and…

She needed to focus. Find Scott. You’re not here for the hot biker dude.

“Yeah, thank you,” she told him with a smile. She left him there, watching as he took a seat across from a blond who was even bigger than he was and just as gorgeous. The blond’s eyes lit up with amusement. When he caught her gaze, he winked at her.

Jesus.

When she reached the very back of the bar, she spotted Scott in a booth, wearing a leather jacket she’d never seen before, with a T-shirt and jeans. That was new. Snuggled up against his side was a very attractive woman with a head full of flame-red ringlets, big green eyes, and ruby-painted lips. She laughed at something Scott said, and he answered by pressing a kiss just under her ear, nuzzling under her hair.

Emelia’s heart sank. Well, okay then.

Across from them sat a huge guy with a military haircut and his back to her, so she couldn’t get a good look at him. Now what are you going to do, genius?

It had been a mistake to walk in. Especially when she knew what she’d find. Just as she knew she’d let him come crawling back to her when he was done with the Julia Roberts wannabe.

And it was at that moment Scott spotted her.

His dark eyes widened. Shocked, he abruptly jumped up from the seat, throwing the redhead off in a way Emelia would have found comical if circumstances were different. “Emelia, what are you doing here?” Scott asked in a not-so-steady voice. His eyes were glassy and red, and he wasn’t entirely stable on his feet. He’d been drinking. A lot.

Emelia smiled, wanting to come across as sassy and empowered but not quite hitting that note. “I saw your car outside.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of the bar’s entrance. “I thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

“Is this your girlfriend?” The redhead was beaming at her from the seat, her chin propped in one hand. “She’s so… sweet. Don’t you think she’s sweet, Alex?”

The military guy glanced over his shoulder at her, his dark gaze roaming over her in a way that made her cringe. Then he smirked at her. “Yeah.”

Scott’s gaze shifted from Alex to Emelia and back again. Licking his lips, he returned his attention to her. He looked nervous. Somehow, she didn’t think it was because he’d been caught by his girlfriend snuggling up to a redhead.

“I’m going to be out for a while tonight,” Scott told Emelia. “Why don’t you go on home and I’ll call you tomorrow? Yeah?”

Something was wrong. Usually when she confronted Scott about any of his little side bitches, he’d be furious. That has been part of the reason confronting him in a public place had seemed like a good idea. As pissy mad as he usually got, in public he wouldn’t be able to throw things at her or swing at her as he normally did. Not without risking someone would get the police involved.

Now Scott just seemed… worried. What had he gotten himself into?

Emelia nodded, uneasy. “I’m going to take off. Don’t worry about calling me,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m good.”

The line was meant to mark her exit. Just as she turned around, a hand caught her elbow. She looked up in fear as Alex rose from his side of the booth, his grip on her firm. He was a big guy, towering over her. The smirk he wore just made it worse. “So, does that mean you’re available now, sweet thing?” Alex drawled, his grip tightening around her bicep.

Emelia yanked on her arm to pull free. His fingers flexed. Now it hurt. “Let me go, please.” Emelia forced herself to meet his gaze. “Please?”

“Hey, man,” Scott jumped in at that point. “Hey, she’s—”

Alex held up his other hand to cut him off. “I’m just going to walk her out to her car. It’s a rough neighborhood. I just want to make sure she’s taken care of.”

The redhead’s grin widened, and Emelia’s stomach dropped. “I’ll be fine,” Emelia told him as forcefully as she could manage.

Alex lowered his face, his dark, mean eyes glaring into hers. “I insist.” Alex walked around her and then proceeded to pretty much drag her away from the booth. A quick look back showed Scott just watching, with his mouth hanging open.

Emelia struggled, trying to pull free. When the front entrance came into sight, she decided she’d just start screaming. No way she was going to let the man drag her out of the bar and do who-knew-what with her.

Abruptly, the man came to a halt in front of her, causing her to run into his back. Something had surprised him enough to loosen his grip and Emelia yanked back the moment she felt it, pulling free of him. As she made it around him, she realized it was the blond man who’d been sitting with her rescuer who’d stopped them. And while Alex whoever-he-was was a big guy, he had nothing on the blond blocking his exit. The hot guy with long, dark hair stepped in front of her, shielding her from Alex.

“You’re in our way,” Alex growled at the taller man.

The man had sky-blue eyes, a strong jaw, and blond hair cut short. His shoulders were as wide as church doors and his muscles had muscles under a heavy, worn leather coat, shirt and jeans. He cut an intimidating figure as his glare locked with that of the guy who’d been trying to drag her out of the bar.

“I’m not blocking your way,” the blond corrected him, tipping his head in Emelia’s direction.

She felt much safer tucked behind the broad back of the dark-haired man. Her palms were pressed to his back and he felt muscly, too. Damn.

“She’s with me,” Alex told him, his voice low.

“You with him, sweetheart?” the blond asked her.

Emelia shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“Guess that means she’s with us,” the brunet said, grinning over his shoulder at her. “You with us?”

Emelia didn’t know these two anymore than she did Alex, but the vibes she got from them felt much safer. She was willing to chance it. “Yes,” Emelia said loud enough for Alex to hear.

Alex’s glare had her heart lurching in her chest. After a meaningful moment, that intense gaze shifted back to the blond. “My mistake,” he said, his lips pressed into a thin line. When he headed back in the direction of Scott’s table, she released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

The two men waited until he was out of earshot before herding her back to the booth where they’d been sitting. The dark-haired man seated her between himself and the wall.

“How you fellas doing?” A tall waitress with curly hair smiled at them as she stopped at their booth.

“A couple more,” the blond motioned to the mostly empty glasses on the table before them. “What about you, sweetheart?”

Drinking was the last thing she should be contemplating but she was going to need to calm down, to get her mind around what just happened. “A Whiskey Sour, please.”

The waitress nodded. “Be right back.”

“You okay?” the blond asked, the concern in those bright blue eyes seeming genuine.

Emelia nodded. “I will be. I think.”

“What are you doing here?” the brunet asked meaningfully.

She blew out a sharp breath. “Confronting a cheating boyfriend?”

The two of them exchanged a look. “That was your boyfriend?” The brunet jerked his thumb in the direction of Scott’s table.

Emelia shook her head. “I don’t know the big guy. Scott’s my boyfriend. Was my boyfriend. He’s the one back there all over the redhead.”

“Do you know the woman?” the blond wanted to know.

Emelia shook her head again.

“Well, sorry about that,” the brunet said slowly. “But you might have bigger problems now.”

“Why?” Then she stopped, remembered how uneasy Scott had seemed at her arrival. “He’s gotten into something he shouldn’t have, huh?”

Again, the two men exchanged a look.

“You can tell me.” Her relationship was definitely over now. Whatever was going on between him and redhead and Alex? She wanted no part of that.

“Yeah, he’s gotten himself into something he shouldn’t have,” the brunet went on. “Problem is, they’ve seen you now.”

“So?” Emelia thanked the waitress who came back with the round of drinks. “I don’t have anything to do with it.”

The blond held up a hand to halt their conversation until the waitress left.

“You do if they think they can use you against him,” the blond explained.

“Excuse me?” Emelia stared at him as she worked on her drink, enjoying the way it burned into her stomach. “I don’t think they missed the part where I showed up and found him cuddled up to another woman. I told him not to call me. It’s over. Done. Whatever is going on there doesn’t involve me.”

“It does if they think they can use you to motivate him to do something they want,” the brunet continued. “Do you know anything about them? Why he’s with them?”

“Are you undercover cops or something?” Emelia wanted to know, fear creeping into her head. “Why all the questions?”

“We’re the ones who are going to get your ass safely out of here, so don’t worry about it,” the blond snapped. “Do you know anything about them?”

The impatient tone got her attention. “No, I don’t.” Emelia forced herself to meet his gaze. “Scott’s an architect. He’d been telling me that he was putting in a lot of hours with a new client, a woman. He’s designing some sort of special building for her. That’s what he told me. I really haven’t heard anything from him for weeks, so I found him here and decided to confront him. Guess it wasn’t my best idea.”

“You’re in the wrong place at the wrong time,” the brunet told her. “I’ll give you that. What’s your name?”

She looked from him to the blond and back, ultimately deciding that it was in her best interest to be nice. “Emelia,” she told him. “Who are you?”

“He’s Nick,” the brunet offered. “I’m Chase.”

Emelia worked on downing her drink, trying to calm the riot of thoughts in her head. She’d shown up to confront her loser boyfriend. His cheating ways had apparently led him to get involved with some people he should have avoided. What happened now? All she really wanted to do now was go home, call in sick for the rest of the week and feel sorry for herself with more bourbon and ice cream.

Something told her she wasn’t going to get her wish.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “Whatever’s going on, you didn’t have to keep him from dragging me out of here, but you did.”

Something like admiration lit Nick’s eyes and he nodded.

The brunet, Chase, sat back on the booth seat, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Emelia stiffened but she didn’t protest. “Can I go home now?” Emelia hated the pitiful note in her own voice.

“Do you live close by?” Nick asked, scrubbing a hand over his jaw.

Emelia shrugged. “I’m about three miles away. I’ll be okay to drive.”

Nick shook his head. “I’m sure you are, but if he decides to look for you, it won’t take him long at all to find you.”

Emelia’s heart ached in her chest. “Why would he? Apparently, I don’t matter to Scott.” Oh, that hurt to admit. And come find her? How insane was what they were telling her? They couldn’t be right, could they?

Chase’s gaze locked with hers. “Doesn’t matter to them. And Alex seems like the type of guy who’d make the most of his mistake.”

Emelia didn’t mistake his meaning. What if he did come looking for her? What could she do? Both men watched her reaction while her mind reeled.

“Hey,” Nick got her attention, pulled her out of her mind. “Sorry. Not trying to scare the shit out of you. Just trying to be realistic. I’m sorry you stumbled into this, but you did.”

Whatever it was, it was real. She’d felt so uncomfortable at Scott’s table when she’d gone back there to face him. Something had been off about the entire situation. What if they were right? What if she was in danger?

“We’ll keep you safe,” Nick told her…

 

MORE BOOKS BY ISABELLA JORDAN

 

Isabella Jordan is the alter ego of an otherwise stressed out web designer, programmer, and internet junkie. When she’s not trying to perfect her own personal caffeine IV drip, she enjoys spending time with her family, doing volunteer work, and writing. She loves creating new stories of all kinds and chatting with readers and friends.

 

 

COVER REVEAL – Loved by the Elite Commander by Jessica Coulter Smith #Aliens #scifi #romancebooks #coverreveal @changelingpress

She’s the only hope for my people, our salvation.
I never thought I’d fall in love with her.

 

elitecommanderfinal

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox
Genres/Themes: Scifi, Alien Encounters, Futuristic

 

My people are dying out and if my generation of Elorians don’t find compatible mates soon, then my people will become extinct. When I hear of a race called humans who are capable of breeding with Elorian males, I know I must find some and convince them to mate with single males on Elora. Their home planet is too far from my own, but a ship of slaves crash-landed on X-2 five hundred years ago, and many were of the human race. It’s there I know I’ll find the females who will save my kind. It never occurred to me that I would be the first to claim a mate, or that she would have been so horribly abused. Despite her horrific past, my sweet Marcy gives me a chance, and now that she’s mine I will do anything in my power to protect her.

 

cool text - coming february 2019 313675208692547

 

 

Celestial Christmas by Judy Mays #holidaystories #Christmas #aliens #scifi #AlienEncounters @changelingpress

Nothing Marc can do will distract Jami from making Brianna’s
first Alalakan Christmas the best ever…

 

A Celestial Christmas (Celestial Passions 2)

 

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Alien Encounters, Christmas
Length: 79 pages

Princess Jami of Mediria is determined to give her adopted sister Brianna of Earth a Christmas to remember, even though she’d never heard of the holiday before Brianna described it so longingly. Descending on the snowy estate of the Alalakan clan, Jami plans the surprise celebration.

Alalakan don al’ Marcadras wants nothing more than to be left alone. Years ago he foiled a plot by the woman he loved to murder Mediria’s king. Gravely injured and scarred for life, he retreated to this isolated estate.

Marc’s desire for peace and quiet is pitted against Jami’s insistence on duplicating Earth’s festivities. Nothing Marc can say or do will distract her, not even seducing her. The hot sex they share only further inspires her to make this the best Alalakan Christmas party ever.

Unfortunately, not everyone on the estate gets in the holiday spirit. Some see a Medirian princess’s presence as an opportunity of another sort… The Medirian royal family will pay a great deal of money to get their princess back.

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

Cool Text - Excerpt 308425910976238

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Judy Mays

“There’s a message from Rodane.”

Looking up, Alalakan don al’ Marcadras, rolled his shoulders. He’d spent the last four hours after dinner hunched over the workstation in his study trying to finish the estate’s yearly reports. After flexing his fingers, he accepted the tablet the housekeeper handed to him, tapped in his code, and perused the message. Then he read it more carefully. Muttering some obscenities under his breath, he looked at the woman standing before him. “We’re going to have guests.”

“At this time of the year? Who?”

“Bandalardrac…”

Before he could finish, she smiled broadly and interrupted him. “Ban’s coming? That’s wonderful.”

Setting the tablet on his desk, he said, “Control your libido, Irinia. A Medirian princess is coming with him, which means at least one Aradab, maybe more, will be coming too as her body guard.”

“A Medirian princess? Ban didn’t get married, did he?”

Marc shook his head. What was it that made almost every woman in the galaxy want to jump in bed with his second cousin? “No, Ban is not married. He says it’s one of his cousins.”

“Which one of his many aunts and uncles is the parent? What does she want here? No one ever visits at this time of the year. Everyone is exhausted from the crafters’ trade show. The chalet hasn’t been properly cleaned in a month, and I don’t know if any of the rooms are suitable for guests.” The woman straightened, crossed her arms over her breasts. “I am not going to wait hand and foot on a spoiled princess who was bored at home and decided to have an adventure in some Drakian mountains.”

Marc grimaced. “I don’t know which aunt or uncle her father or mother is, and I don’t expect you to cater to her beyond what would normally be expected of you, Irinia. You have enough to do in this monstrosity of a house as it is. The princess will just have to amuse herself. If she’s not happy with the accommodations, she can just go home again.” He did raise an eyebrow. “Though I know you well enough to know if there’s one speck of dust in any of the rooms right now, you’d have the servants working nonstop until everything was clean enough to eat off of.”

The housekeeper ignored his last comment. “Why would Ban even bring her here?”
“You know Ban. Once he gets something into his head… He is very fond of all his younger cousins. What’s more, he did get the okay from Rodane so it’s not like he’s showing up with her unannounced or without the family’s knowledge.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

Another grimace. “I don’t want a spoiled child under my feet any more than you do, but it doesn’t look as if we have any choice in the matter.”

“Is she a child?”

“I’m guessing between twelve and fourteen. Can you imagine a grown Medirian woman wanting to come here at this time of the year?” Marc said with a shrug.

She pursed her lips. “You’re right. With the weather getting colder, she’ll have to stay almost exclusively in the chalet. The water in the lake is freezing so she won’t want to swim there. I think I’ll turn down the temperature for the indoor pool’s heating system. If it’s cold enough, she’ll want to head back to Mediria’s tropical waters as soon as she can.”

“You lower the temperature too much, and you’ll kill the fish. Then you’ll not only have to deal with me but also with my great-aunt. Jenetta will not be happy if her prized opodia fish die.”

Marc could see Irinia weighing the prospect of Jenetta’s anger against any inconvenience brought about by the princess. He knew the moment she decided Jenetta’s ire would be far worse than dealing with one Medirian princess. “When are they arriving?” she asked in a disgruntled voice.

A loud humming noise from outside answered for him. “Sounds like they’re here now. Leave it to Ban to arrive this late at night,” he said. Stepping around his desk, he grasped Irinia’s upper arm before she could exit the room. “I expect you to treat the princess with the utmost respect. The ties between the Hardan and Alalakan families are strong and numerous. I don’t want you to ignore your regular duties because the princess demands something unusual or bizarre, but I will not have any reasonable requests denied. Are we clear about that?”

“Marc! When have I ever been unreasonable?”

“More times than I can count, hence the warning. Besides, you don’t want to disappoint Ban, do you? For all we know, this is his favorite cousin.”

Releasing her arm, Marc chuckled to himself as he strode out the door and headed for the chalet’s landing pad. Although normally even-tempered and genial, Irinia could be a real harridan when she wanted. Invoking Ban’s name would make her think before she did anything the princess would find too infuriating.

On the landing pad, the door of the shuttlecraft was just rising when Marc and the housekeeper arrived. Once the door was braced, the stairway extended. Bandalardrac stuck his head out of the doorway, grinned, and made his way down to the platform.

“Marc! It’s good to see you.” Pivoting away from his Alalakan cousin, he grabbed the housekeeper in an exuberant hug. “Irinia, are you still here? I thought you’d have married some complacent merchant by now and gone off to rule his household!”

“As if I wanted to marry again — unless you’re asking. Besides, I have yet to meet the merchant who can handle me!”

Laughing, Ban set her on her feet and turned back to the hovercraft. “Jami? Are you coming? You’re the one who was in such a hurry to get here!”

“I’m coming!” a musical voice shouted. “I needed to get my coat. That’s a cold wind howling through the hatchway!”

Marc smiled to himself. If she was already complaining about the cold, she wouldn’t last here too long. Then things would get back to normal. Pasting a smile on his face, he waited for whom he was sure would be a prepubescent girl. He wasn’t prepared for the vision wearing a coat that fit like a second skin over her curvaceous body. A sharp gust of wind blew her short, dark-green hair into her face. Combing it away with her left hand, she bit her full, lower lip as she grabbed the hand railing. Hurrying down the steps, she halted in front of him. This was no child. This was a very attractive woman.

Marc cursed silently to himself. Just what he needed, another sexy Medirian woman confounding his life.

“Jami, my cousin Alalakan don al’ Marcadras, manager of the chalet and its grounds, and the housekeeper Sililurtria dem al’ Irinia. Marc, Irinia, this is Jami…”

“Her Royal Highness Jamilinlalissa, Princess Hardan,” intoned a harsh voice from the top of the stairway.

As Irinia gasped, Marc stiffened. Jamilinlalissa? If his memory was correct, she was one of the king’s daughters! He’d expected the daughter of one of Findal’s many brothers or sisters, not someone who could possibly inherit the throne. Then, all thoughts of the princess fled his mind as he focused on the Aradab descending the stairs. Kahn? The Master of the Medirian School of Assassins. What in the seven hells did he want here? Marc had made it plain to all of the instructors that he was through with his training. He certainly wasn’t the first person to have left the school.

Ignoring the cold wind, his arms crossed over his bare chest, the Aradab halted and stared at Marc as if to issue a silent challenge.

Before he could stop himself, Marc clenched his fists. He hadn’t seen Kahn since he’d left Mediria seven years ago, and he wasn’t happy to see him now.

Irinia’s sudden cough shook Marc from his dark thoughts, and he hastily gathered his composure. “Irinia, why don’t you go in and get something warm for our guests to drink?” That should give her time to regain her poise. Entertaining the daughter of a king was not the norm here.

The housekeeper hurried back into the chalet.

Marc watched her go. Now, all he had to do was control his own reactions to his guests.

Ban clicked a button on the control he held in his hand. After the stairs folded neatly back into the hovercraft, the door slowly lowered into place. “Is there anybody to bring in the luggage, or will we have to tote it ourselves?” Ban asked in a cheerful voice.

 

ABOUT JUDY MAYS

Sexier than a Hollywood starlet! More buxom than a Vegas showgirl. Able to split infinitives with a single key stroke!

Look! At the computer!
It’s a programmer!
It’s a computer nerd!
No! It’s – Judy Mays!

Yes, Judy Mays – erotic romance writer extraordinaire who came to Earth with powers and abilities beyond those of mortal authors. Judy Mays! Who can write wild, wanton werewolves; adorable, alluring aliens; vexing, vivacious vamps; hot, haunting historicals; compelling, combustible contemporaries; sexy, surprising suspense, and cagey, cuddly kitty cats; and, who, disguised as a mild-mannered tenth grade English teacher in a small public high school, fights a never ending battle for Hot Hunks, Hip Heroines, and Salacious Sensuality!

Visit her website at http://www.JudyMays.com or join her reader’s group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/judymays

Blossom and the Alien Actor by Jessica Coulter Smith #scifi #aliens #aliencontact #alternateuniverse #holidaybooks #Christmas #singlemom #romance @changelingpress

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Blossom and the Alien Actor (Intergalactic Brides 19)

 

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox
Genres/Themes: Christmas, Scifi, Futuristic, Alien Encounters
Length: 139 pages

Blossom has struggled all her life, never able to claw her way out of the worst neighborhood in Los Angeles. Her loser ex-boyfriend isn’t who she thought he was, and now she’s in deep trouble — but Christmas is the time for miracles, and Blossom needs one now more than ever. She just doesn’t expect her miracle to arrive in such a sexy, purple package. When the notorious alien actor Brexton knocks on her door, she does what any rational woman would do — she slams it in his face. Wishing for a miracle is one thing, but having the heartthrob of Hollywood on her doorstep isn’t what she had in mind.

Brexton has always wanted a mate and family, though he’s never been blessed with either. When he hears about a single mom who’s in trouble, he knows he can’t leave her to face her fate. Having a door slammed in his face hadn’t factored into his plans, but that one glimpse is enough for Brexton. He’d do anything to get another look at the sexy female with blue hair, and a body that would feature in all his future dreams.

Despite danger lurking around every corner, Brexton is determined to give Blossom and her children a Christmas they’ll always remember. Now that he has the family he’s always wanted, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe, and hopefully share the first of many holidays with his new mate and kids.

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Jessica Coulter Smith

Brexton left the studio and climbed into the SUV he’d bought after his first movie contract. He’d been assured it was a good quality vehicle, but truthfully, humans had too many brands and names for things. Other than price, he didn’t understand the difference in a BMW and a Ford. They all had four wheels and could take you where you needed to be. Yes, some seemed nicer inside than others, and he’d learned that some had more buttons and options inside, but it seemed the name on the car often made them cost more, which made little sense to him. His manager had helped him select this vehicle with the blue and white emblem on the front. It was roomy enough for his large frame and the seats were comfortable. Nothing else mattered to Brexton.

He drove straight to the Terran station, hoping to find someone to help them. He might have been a warrior, once, but those days were behind him. Others would be better qualified to protect a woman and her children. There would be guards at the station with current warrior status, those who still practiced hand-to-hand combat, and had learned about the weapons on this world. Brexton had decided to focus his attention elsewhere, but he hadn’t taken into account the way humans were always hurting one another. He might need to schedule some training time, re-hone the kills he’d probably lost over the last ten years, in case he ever needed to defend a female or children.

He’d never been one of the elite, and he’d often wonder if it had to do with his DNA. While both his parents were Zelthranites, there was a faint trace of something else in his blood. It wouldn’t have been noticeable except Zelthranite males didn’t grow facial hair other than eyebrows, and Brexton had a full beard. He’d asked the doctors on his world about it, and they’d assured him that he had Zelthranite blood, but it seemed he was a throwback to hundreds of years ago. It had made him different, and on his world, different wasn’t always a good thing. Here he was accepted, which was why he’d left his home world at the age of nineteen. By that time, he’d been a warrior for three years and known he wasn’t right for that life.

As he entered the station, the human female at the front desk got a dreamy expression on her face. He’d seen that look before and braced himself for whatever she might say or do. He knew without the human fans, he wouldn’t have a lucrative career as an actor, but this was the part of his job he hated. Since his people were already celebrities of a sort on Earth, he hadn’t seen the harm in following this particular path. He hadn’t counted on being ten times more famous than he’d already been, and there were times it was a right pain.

“Brexton!” the human said, smiling and giving him a wave, like they were old friends. “How can I help you today? Is the new movie going well?”

He forced himself to smile. “It’s going well. Everything is on schedule.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe you could give me a tour of the studio sometime?”

“The studio does offer tours. I would be happy to put your name on the list.”

Her enthusiasm died a little when she realized he wasn’t going to personally take her around. Money and fame mattered entirely too much to the human species. It seemed to be how they determined who was worth their time and who wasn’t. He had yet to meet a genuine person, but he’d been told it had a lot to do with being part of the Hollywood elite. Apparently, he attracted the wrong type of person.

“I need to speak to the guards,” he said. “Who is on duty right now?”

She tapped at her computer a moment, then gave him a list of names and where to find them. Out of the names mentioned, he knew that Ranvik had the highest warrior ranking, and would be his best bet for saving that little family. He made his way through the station until he found the warrior surveying the departure area for the latest shuttle sending potential brides to his home world.

“Ranvik,” he said as he approached.

“If it isn’t Mr. Famous,” Ranvik said. His expression didn’t change. “To what do we owe the honor? It’s not often you grace us with your presence.”

“I see you’ve picked up human sarcasm rather well.”

Ranvik shrugged. “Have to do something to pass the time. Policing human females gets boring.”

“I need your help, or rather a human family does.”

Now he had the warrior’s attention. “What type of help?”

“I was informed there is a human female and her children who are in danger.” Brexton told the warrior what little he knew of the situation and showed him the address the human had put into his phone.

Ranvik rubbed a hand against his jaw. “I don’t have anyone to spare right now. Things are always dull at the station, but we still have to make sure all points are covered in case there’s ever trouble.”

“But this woman…”

“You were a warrior once, Brexton. I know you were young when you were training, and it’s been a long time, but those skills will still be there when you need them. You have to trust in yourself, in your abilities. You may be an actor here on Earth, but never forget who you truly are.”

He snorted. He knew who he was, and it wasn’t a proud warrior. That had never been a title he could claim. Even when he’d trained daily, he’d been average at best. Not like the warrior standing in front of him. Ranvik had a reputation back home, and the nearly forty-year-old warrior would be much better suited to rescuing the woman and her kids. What if Brexton fucked it all up? Being in the spotlight meant his every move was criticized. If the female’s boyfriend attacked and Brexton had to defend himself, someone was bound to make it sound like Brexton was at fault. He’d learned that humans tended to blame those in a position of power, whether they were responsible or not.

“I’m sorry, truly. I just can’t spare anyone right now,” Ranvik said. “And it doesn’t sound like this female and her children can afford to wait until I have time to look into it.”

Brexton ran a hand through his hair. “If I get shot, I’m going to come back and kick your ass.”

Ranvik smirked. “You could try.”

“Fine. I’ll go check on the female. But what the hell am I supposed to do with her? I figured the station would have the resources necessary to get her somewhere safely, or give her a temporary place to stay.”

“Don’t you have some massive house with like fifteen bedrooms?” Ranvik asked.

“It’s eight, not fifteen, asshole.”

Ranvik raised a brow. “Right. One male and eight bedrooms. I can’t imagine where you could possibly put one small human and her kids.”

“Take them home with me?” It was true that he had a lot of security at his home, and it would be difficult for the male to attack the small family, or kidnap them. He just hadn’t considered keeping them after he removed them from the situation.

“You’ll figure it out, superstar,” Ranvik said. “Now get the hell out of here. All the potential brides are eyeing you like a piece of candy and seem hesitant to get onto the shuttle.”

He glanced at the women and realized Ranvik spoke the truth. They were all giving him that look he’d come to think of as the be my sugar daddy simper. It never worked on him, and irritated the hell out of him, but it didn’t stop them from trying. He really did need a mate, if for no other reason than to keep the vultures away, but Zelthranites mated for life and he had yet to find a sweet, kind, genuine female he could spend his days with, and not worry that she was after his money.

Brexton left the Terran station and went back out to his car. He sighed when he saw two women lurking next to the vehicle. With some luck, they’d just want an autograph, but he was seldom that fortunate. At least, not with single females. He’d even had a few married ones hit on him, right in front of their spouses. It was shocking, and disgusting. Where he came from, mates were faithful to one another and completely devoted to each other. The lack of integrity he’d witnessed in the humans he dealt with didn’t inspire great confidence that he would ever find a mate. Not here anyway. There were other worlds that had compatible females for his kind, but the small humans had always been appealing to Brexton.

Compared to a human male, he was rather large. He’d met a few human males who were his size, but most were quite a bit shorter and not as broad. More than one human female had told him that he was intimidating, especially with his beard and longer hair. Brexton wasn’t going to try to change his appearance though. He hadn’t conformed when he’d been on his world, and he wasn’t about to start now. Besides, his size and overall looks were a sort of trademark at this point in his career.

As he neared the address on his phone, he realized the neighborhood was worse than he’d thought. Most buildings and homes had their windows boarded, and graffiti covered their walls. The fences he saw had barbed wire topping them, and every single male seemed to be armed. What he didn’t see were any law enforcement vehicles. No wonder this part of town was so out of control. No one seemed to care what happened to the people who lived here.

Brexton pulled to a stop outside of an apartment building that looked like it might fall down in a stiff breeze. He got out of his SUV and set the alarm before approaching the five-story brick structure. Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, but it was just a pack of rats scurrying into the drain. The vermin didn’t bother him like they did some people, but he knew he had to get the little family out of this place.

The door swung open easily enough, which made him frown. There was absolutely no security for a female and her children. He doubted that she would live here if she had other options, although not many humans he’d met acted in a way that made sense to him. He didn’t know what to expect when he met her. He’d seen some females on corners as he’d gotten near the address, and they’d looked hard and far too thin. The makeup caked on their faces had made them seem harsh, and he hated they’d fallen so far. Assuming they’d ever known anything other than this poverty.

Brexton found the apartment number the female at the studio had entered into his phone and he knocked, the door shaking under the force of his fist. One hard blow, and he could probably break the damn thing. He heard whispers on the other side of the door, then it opened a crack. A chain ran across the inside not quite six feet up, but even that looked incredibly weak. The small female who peered through the opening didn’t stand a chance if someone was determined to break into her home.

“I was told you need assistance,” he said, and watched as her eyes went wide.

The door slammed shut and he wondered if maybe he should have gone about this a different way. After a moment, it slowly opened, this time without the chain in place, and the dainty female looking up at him nearly took his breath away. The way his heart was racing, he started to think maybe he was the one who needed help. His body had an instant reaction to the petite blue-haired pixie, and he hoped she didn’t notice. In all his years on Earth, he’d never once had a female affect him so strongly. Something inside of him was screaming mine.

Things had definitely taken an unexpected turn.

 

ABOUT JESSICA

Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. Today she’s a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.

Find Jessica on Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / jessicacoultersmith.com.