Tag Archives: science fiction romance

Book Blitz: Beast Charming by Grace Goodwin #PNR #SciFiRomance @luvgracegoodwin

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Beast Charming
Grace Goodwin
(Interstellar Brides Program: The Beasts, #5)
Publication date: April 26th 2022
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Science Fiction

One dance with this ‘prince’ could cost her a job.

Her freedom.

Her life.

Warlord Tane of Atlan is a warrior, not a prince.

So why is he wearing these ridiculous white pants and gold-trimmed jacket?

And gods help him, why are there hundreds of females in glittering gowns, circling like vultures, expecting him to dance?

The human producers of the Bachelor Beast television show thought this would be a good idea; dress up an unmated Warlord like a fairytale prince, invite hundreds of eligible human women to a ‘Cinderella Ball’, turn on their cameras, and record everything.

And then he sees her. His mate. The only female who can tame his beast.

But…

This princess wasn’t supposed to be at the ball. A borrowed ballgown. A stolen invitation. A friend in trouble. Everything is going according to plan…until she can no longer resist temptation.

Surely one dance won’t hurt?

Even a dance with a beast.

Don’t miss this wild and twisted Cinderella story.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

Warlord Tane, Miami Event Center, ‘The Bachelor Ball’

“I do not know how much longer I can endure.” I whispered the confession to Bahre where we stood in front of the raised dais. The fucker’s response was to laugh at me.

I discreetly elbowed him in his ribs, then turned to face the forty-seventh female being introduced to me.

“Warlord Tane, may I present…” Chet Bosworth, with his overly large teeth and puffed hair paused to look at the card he held in his hand. “Celine Legrand from Canada.”

“A pleasure,” I repeated, for the forty-seventh time. Leaning over, as I’d been instructed by Bahre’s beautiful mate, Quinn, I dutifully took the female’s small hand in mine and bowed at the waist. I believed the act was a waste of time. I knew, even before she had approached, that she was not mine. My beast knew as well. I had walked the room earlier, passed by the females as the lined up wearing their fine gowns, eager to enter and meet the beasts.

None of the female’s present was my mate. I already knew this truth and yet, I had to endure several more hours of Chet Bosworth and his pontificating nonsense.

My beast and I were losing patience.

As if on cue, Chet’s conspiratorial whisper carried to both me and the young Celine. “Hold your breath, people, as the alien, Warlord Tane, meets the next gorgeous woman in attendance. Celine Legrand traveled all the way from Gatineau, Quebec, Canada, more than sixteen hundred miles, for a chance to win this Atlan beast’s battle weary heart.”

The young woman blushed at Chet’s words. I released her with a gentle shake of my head. I did not need to tell these females they were not mine.

If this woman were mine, she would already be in my arms. More like, over my shoulder so I could carry her somewhere private and pleasure her properly.

Without a live television audience.

The young lady took a step back and then hurried away.

“Another strike out!” Chet smiled directly into the camera and winked at the lens. “That’s forty-seven in a row, my friends. Is true love in the air tonight? Will one of these women be the answer to a broken-hearted beast’s most fervent wish? Or will this lonely beast, this wounded veteran, who has already been rejected by his own people, be doomed to face the executioner?”

Author Bio:

Grace Goodwin is a USA Today and international bestselling author of Sci-Fi and Paranormal romance with nearly one million books sold. Grace’s titles are available worldwide in multiple languages in ebook, print and audio formats. Two best friends, one left-brained, the other right-brained, make up the award-winning writing duo that is Grace Goodwin. They are both mothers, escape room enthusiasts, avid readers and intrepid defenders of their preferred beverages. (There may or may not be an ongoing tea vs. coffee war occurring during their daily communications.) Grace loves to hear from readers.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Bookbub / Instagram / Newlsetter

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Commanded by Ashlynn Monroe #PNR #BDSM #SciFiRomance @ashlynn_monroe

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Ka’Sen, Prince of Planets, Leader of the Union of Worlds, can have anything he wants — except magic.

His to Command: Those on Rosrel protect the mystical forces from outsiders. Ka’Sen must convince the Rosrel princess to become his wife and give him a child of magic. As Princess Val’Trea’s most trusted personal servant, Brisa never dreamed the princess would command her to wed on her behalf.

Command the Stars: Brisa never dreamed she’d travel through the stars — or be caught in a war between ideologies. When Ka’Sen takes his new wife into his bed he’s bewitched by something more commanding than sorcery. Love. But now that he knows his wife lied to him from the first moment they met, he definitely can’t allow himself to trust in her…

Command His Heart: At the mercy of her kidnappers — and her new mother-in-law — Brisa needs to find her place in the universe. She’s been a pawn her whole life, but this is her chance to choose her path. Freedom? Or return to Ka’Sen’s side? Can she free the man who seeks to imprison her? When the only happiness you’ve ever had is slipping from reach, how do you find the courage to save worlds?

Command His Soul: As her belly swells with their child, Brisa’s heart has begun to shrink as she learns the terrible truth about her husband’s thirst for power. She knows she can unlock Ka’Sen’s magic, but she fears the truth may destroy him.

Available in Paperback or get the eBook at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Ashlynn Monroe
Excerpt from His to Command

When all the girls, even Meglena, were sleeping, Brisa stood and left as quietly as she could. Twilight’s orange sunset was burning off into the gray light before nightfall. The stones were damp under her feet and the cold reached through the thin fabric of her slippers. Some houses were still dark, but most had the warm light of hearth fires lit. The shops were closed as the villagers tucked in for the night. Brisa hurried through the village to find Lee. He was a good man. He would help.

“Hey,” called the baker’s son. “Safety in the sleeping hours.”

Brisa stumbled over to him and gave him a nod. “Safe sleep to you, as well.”

He nodded back. “Take this to Meglena, please.” He handed her a wrapped loaf.

She tried to hide her grin. They’d be a good match, this chubby, ruddy-faced boy, and her friend. He had a promising future. “I will. Thank you. Have you seen Lee?”

“He’s over at the tavern. Cards.”

She’d heard of his skill, but she’d never been inside the tavern. “Could you ask him to come see me at the temple?”

The boy laughed. “My father would kill me for going in there. Den of reprobates he calls it. Sorry.”

She shrugged. “Thank you for your kindness to Meglena. She is my heart sister.”

He nodded. “You have done many things I would call kindness concerning our village. My gifting food to a pretty girl is purely selfish.” He grinned broadly. “But I’m sure you already know I wish to court her.”

She sensed he was asking her permission, even though she had no right to expect it. The gesture made her like him even more. “You can court her, and if she’s smart, she’ll let you.”

His face reddened brighter than its naturally jolly color.

Brisa put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see she knows who to thank for the gift. She’s a bit under the weather, but when she feels better, I’m sure she’ll come see you.”

“Under the weather? What ails her?” His concern was intense and proved his feelings.

“It’s fever. Please keep this between us. You know how illness panics. I need Lee to help me get them wood to stay warm.”

“They’re all sick?” Now he sounded worried for more than just Meglena.

“No,” she lied. “It’s just that the littles are so small. I was hoping Lee could help with the chore, that’s all.”

He let go of a breath, and his shoulders sagged. “That’s good. I’m sorry I can’t go get him for you.”

“I’m glad you are obedient to your father. On the morrow.”

“On the morrow, Lady Brisa.”

She bristled at the honorary title, but hid the reaction with a polite smile before rushing off toward the tavern.

Laughter and noise streamed out of the well lit stone building. Women of low reputation walked with men down the path, and she saw a stable boy watering the horses of a newcomer. She paused, nervous about going farther, but her littles needed her to have courage. She wasn’t a child anymore for Goddess’s sake. Straightening her shoulders, she walked ahead as if this was a normal visit for her.

Lee. Thinking of him made her smile. He’d be surprised to see her in the tavern. Lee. So reliable. Such a good friend. He’d been helping her since the beginning. He’d seen her trying to carry a little boy who was almost as tall as she was. He’d taken him from her arms and helped her get him to the temple where she’d managed to save his frozen legs. That little boy was a farm hand now, but he often brought the temple children fresh food. He knew her favorite was rabbit and always snared one for her when he came. Without Lee, she might not have been able to save him.

As they’d grown older, she’d expected him to marry, but he hadn’t. She wasn’t sure why, but his marital status mattered to her more than it had the right to. She never doubted he’d be there for her, but if he wed that would need to change.

Nervousness fluttered in her stomach as she stepped up onto the long porch and took hold of the heavy door handle to gain entrance into the drinking establishment. She’d never been inside the busy gathering place. It was not the kind of place princesses or ladies went. Lucky for her littles, she was neither.

Peering through the doorway, she tried not to be noticed, but it was clear this was a male domain. Lee. His blond head bobbed. He needed a haircut. She watched his handsome face morph into a huge smile as he threw his hand down on the table. His companions wore angry or miserable expressions. When he glanced up, he gave a double take in her direction before grabbing his mug and draining the contents. Half standing, he scraped the money in the center of the table into a pile before shoving fistfuls into his pockets.

One of the angry looking men grabbed his arm. “Hey! Give me the chance to win it back.”

Lee glared at the hand, and the man let go. Lee scowled. “Later.” He hurried over to her, guiding her out into the darkness. “That’s no place for you. I was starting to worry. Another day and I’d have stormed the castle.”

“I’m fine. It’s just been very busy.”

“I heard. A sky ruler is coming here. Never thought I’d see that. They’ve been banned for so long I’m surprised the king will allow it.”

“My mistress is excited. Considering how badly the tech worlds want magic I suspect the king needs money. Val’Trea has been getting fitted for new dresses and very focused on the attention, but I don’t think she understands why the king is lavishing so many resources on her. I believe there will be a match.”

Lee’s blue eyes narrowed. “Would she force you to leave?”

“Yes. Unless by the grace of the Mother Goddess this sky ruler doesn’t allow her to bring me. We don’t know their culture. Maybe a lady’s maiden isn’t important in his land.”

“If it comes to it, run with me. I will protect you.” His words froze in the chilly air. When he took her face in his hands, his fingers were warm despite the cold. “I refuse to lose you.”

Heat burned in her cheeks. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying run with me. Be mine. The king has a long shadow, but every shadow is chased by the sun. We’ll find someplace, far from here, where we can live in the brightness. I want you for my wife. Don’t go back to the castle tonight.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ashlynn Monroe is a busy working mom. She loves her kids and family. Her greatest joy is creating stories to entertain others, and she hopes they bring a little more romance into the world. She’s been writing since her teens for her own enjoyment but decided in her thirties to share her imagination with readers. Ashlynn enjoys biking, camping, reading, video games, and filling her home and life with love. If she’s not working or chasing children, you can find her daydreaming up her next tale of romance.

BOOK BLITZ: Her Captive Beast by Starla Fleet #SciFiRomance @XpressoTours

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Her Captive Beast
Starla Fleet
(Her Alien Beast, #1)
Publication date: March 24th 2022
Genres: Adult, Romance, Science Fiction

Raynia

Marrying a suitable Royal is a small price to pay for my father’s approval. My fiancé is a good man even if his touch doesn’t evoke my desire. We have science in common and that will have to be enough.

Just as I’ve resigned myself to a lifetime of ordinary, an incident on my fiancé’s science vessel throws me off course and into the arms of a beastly tornado of a male. With my heart pounding for the first time in my life, I’m suddenly not so sure that ordinary will do at all.

Ryker

The Royals have held me captive for too long. Experimenting on me. Shaping me into a monstrous beast. Not any longer. The time to be free is now, and my captors will pay. I have vengeance on my mind, and nothing can stand between me and my goal.

Then I turn a corner on the ship where I’ve been held captive and I see her. Suddenly it’s not vengeance I’m after, it’s her that I need to claim as mine. Kidnapping my tormentor’s fiancée would mean a lifetime of fugitivity for me and my men. Yet, one kiss from Ray and I know that I’m captive once more.

Her Captive Beast is the first in a science fiction romance series filled with Alpha beasts who are tamed by sassy beauties. Strap in for a fast-paced, intergalactic adventure full of hope, love, forgiveness, and redemption.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Ryker

I burst into Bay Six. My only thought was to destroy Lord Garreth. There the skinny little prick was. He was in the cockpit of a pod.

Somehow he was escaping me!

I charged towards the small craft. But I was too late. It was already lifting off.

Refusing to admit defeat, I leapt for it. My right hand glanced off the belly of the pod. The smooth metal protested as I dug into it with my claws.

I tried to hold on, but my grip wasn’t enough. He was getting away. I landed in a crouch on the metal floors with a sickening thud. Throwing my head back, I roared my disbelief, my fury, my hatred at the man.

There was a part of my brain, likely the part he tinkered with to make stronger, faster, indestructible, that told me I could follow him out the airlock and into space. The sane part of me knew I wouldn’t survive. That sane part listened to the vengeance in me that said my death would be worth it if I could take him down with me.

But the airlock was already closing. Not even my altered strength could open it in time. He got away. I had failed. Again.

A deafening roar rose within me. When I let it loose, it shattered the room. The high pitched squeal of glass breaking filled my ears. But something in the shriek stole my voice from me.

Looking down, I saw that there was something at my feet. Something trying to scuttle away like a crab. It was a small female, or maybe she just looked small compared to me. Most humans did. For several long seconds I took her in.

The long brown hair had escaped its braid. The soft tendrils that framed a delicate face. The shapely legs that ended in small feet. The narrow waist that flared out into ample hips.

My gaze went up and down, left and right. I roamed her body in exactly the way I wanted to touch her, needed to touch her. Everywhere at once.

Mine.

The word rang loud in my head. It silenced the red hot rage that had been there only a moment before. I gave my head a shake. I must be going mad. Or madder than I had already been.

Mine, my altered mind insisted. Something inside me clawed at my guts, and the cage of my heart, insisting it was true.

Her blue eyes looked up at me wide and terrified. That’s when I knew I must have said the word out loud.

She tried to scramble away. But she was trapped. The stem of the impractical shoes on her feet were caught in the metal grate. If she kept struggling and kicking out, she would hurt herself further.

Without thinking, I crouched down. She didn’t scream this time. No, she did something far worse.

Her lips began to tremble. Wetness pooled at her eyes. Tears began to spill as the sobs broke from her heart-shaped mouth.

I had faced down armies of cyborgs. I had killed men with my own bare hands. I had watched and listened as my brothers and friends were tortured and tormented. None of that compared to the gut-wrenching feeling that tied me up in knots at the sound of her cries.

How could she not know that I would never hurt her?

How could she not know that even her cries caused pain in my heart?

How could she not know that my hands would do anything, everything, to keep her safe and warm?

I reached out for her, and that’s when I remembered why she could not know these things.

My hands were scarred. Scaled. Monstrous.

I didn’t know what I was capable of. Only because the old me wouldn’t have harmed her; it didn’t mean the new beastly me wouldn’t.


Author Bio:

Starla Fleet is three BFF author friends who spent so much time watching Amos in The Expanse and Hot Spock in Star Trek Discovery, that they decided to write their own science fiction romances, but with a lot more kissing! Their Alien Beasts are genetically modified warrior monsters with a deadly swing for the villains and a soft heart for their heroines. Visit Starla’s website to download a free prequel novella at http://www.starlafleet.com

Website / Goodreads / Instagram


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PREORDER: Souped Up by the Alien Vampire Mechanic by Crymsyn Hart #SciFiRomance @crymsynhart @changelingpress

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Published by Changeling Press
Cover Art by Karen Fox
Genres/Themes: SciFi Romance, Alien Encounters, Vampires

Preorder for March 18th

Pulled from her life on Earth, all Melony Pike wants is to return home. Instead, she’s on a distant planet with her sister, Abigail, and Abigail’s alien mate. She knows they can’t return to Earth — she’d be hunted down and experimented on for the alien technology implanted in her neck. But even with other human women on the planet, she still feels out of place. She sure isn’t looking for a green alien mate.

Brax is a fixer, an alien mechanic. He’s been alone for a long time and he’s not looking for anyone. Then he meets Melony and his world shifts. However, a looming invasion threatens the one thing he wants. He will do anything to cement the relationship between him and Melony and will stop anyone from getting to her.

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Crymsyn Hart

Melony trailed her fingers through the fine black sand, as smooth as the contents of an hourglass broken open and standing still. The vastness of the beach made her feel as frozen as time did in this place. Turquoise ocean waves lapped at the shoreline, pulling back the sand as the tide went out. With each wave, it felt like more of her previous life washed out into the foreign ocean. The sulfuric tang of the air stuck to her tongue. She let out a long sigh.

While the picturesque landscape reminded her of a Caribbean island, the sky’s slightly purple sheen and the three moons hovering above her reminded her daily she was on a planet called Tilleron, ten light years away from Earth. All because her sister, Abigail, had fallen in love with a green alien who sucked blood and was obsessed with plants. Jaril had brought the sisters to his planet to save their lives. The Earth’s military had been about to experiment on her sister because they wanted the technology implanted in her neck.

The cool breeze fluffed her auburn hair and her stomach grumbled. The sun glinted off a silver spaceship as it descended from the sky. It sailed over her head and landed somewhere close by. It resembled the ship which Jaril had used to whisk them away, but her green-skinned brother-in-law and her sister were both on the planet enjoying mated bliss. Three months had passed since Melony had last had a decent meal. All the weird fruit and meat from this planet didn’t taste bad, but it wasn’t an Italian sausage and mushroom pizza. Lord, she missed peanut butter.

“There you are. We haven’t seen you all day.” Abigail’s voice came from behind her.

Melony curled her fingers into the sand and took a deep breath. She had argued with her sister on many occasions about returning home. Melony counted to ten before turning around and forcing a smile. “Just needed some space. You two are worse than teenagers when you get all moon-eyed over each other.”

Abigail sat next to her and rubbed her knee. The quick flash of red on Abigail’s cheeks reminded Melony how much Abs loved her alien mate. “You don’t have to run away every time you see us kissing. I know Jaril’s not the easiest person to get along with. He gets on my nerves when he starts on a tangent about his plants — I have to remind him I’m in the room. But he means well.”

“Don’t you want to go back to Earth and have a relationship with a human?” The words slipped out, but Melony already knew the answer to this particular argument. They couldn’t go back.

Her sister squeezed her thigh. “I’ve already told you how it works with them. Once he heard me moan, he knew I was his mate. He’s my other half. This place is different, but you’ve always been about unique experiences. It doesn’t matter to me he’s not human. Why do you hate them? Think about all the sucky boyfriends you’ve had.”

“They were all dead ends, like my jobs. If you recall, the reason I moved to California was to get a fresh start. I don’t hate Jaril or the rest of them. I’m just… This wasn’t what I had planned.” Abigail wasn’t wrong. Melony had ended up with some strange guys. The ones with too many tattoos who had a weird fetish and wanted her to pee on them. Mel shivered when she thought of Nicolas. Then there had been Edvard. Everything had been fine for the first couple of months until their date fell on a full moon. He confessed he was a werewolf. She’d had another who yearned to suck on her nose. Melony could rattle off a list of strange men as long as her arm.

The same with her jobs. She’d worked in a bakery and pulled taffy in a sweet shop, and waitressed on roller skates at an old-fashioned diner. Mel had a great resume of life experiences, but it wasn’t until she moved to California that she’d had a chance to put her skills together to use with a national chain of sweet shops. It was going great until the military rolled up in a black Hummer and pulled her out of a meeting saying her sister was in trouble. She still had nightmares about them not telling her anything about what was going on with Abigail. Hell, it had been even worse than when her sister had disappeared for several days the year before that. They had been on their last camping trip into the mountains before she departed for California. The panic she’d felt when her sister disappeared replayed in her dreams. Then Abs had reappeared talking about a green man who’d saved her…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Crymsyn Hart is a National Bestselling author of over eighty paranormal romance and horror novels. Her experiences as a psychic and ghostly encounters have given her a lot of material to use in her books. Vampires, grim reapers, shifters, and other paranormal creatures tend to end up in her books no matter how hard she tries to keep them away.

She currently resides in Charlotte, NC with her hubby and her three dogs. If she’s not writing, she’s curled up with the dogs watching a good horror movie or off with friends.

To find out more about Crymsyn, check out her website on: www.crymsynhart.com

PREORDER: One Owner Lady Driven by Alice Gaines #DarkFantasy #shapeshifters #SciFiRomance @AliceGaines @changelingpress

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Claire Wilcox is in for the ride of her life…

Why would a normally sane woman pay a million dollars for a motorcycle? Hard-driving CEO Claire Wilcox has found the bike of her dreams — a 1957 Mannhof four-cylinder touring motorcycle.

Little does she know that the cycle’s designer made each of these beauties for one person only. The Mannhof is sentient — and he has the ability to take on human form. He was designed with purpose, and he’s on a mission — he’s here to heal Claire’s wounded soul. If she’ll let him.

Get it NOW at Changeling Press

Preorder for March 11th at your favorite retailer:

https://books2read.com/LadyDriven

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alice Gaines
An Authorized Excerpt

There it was — the machine of her dreams. Claire looked down at the auction catalogue in her lap. The picture of a 1957 Mannhof four-cylinder touring motorcycle looked back at her. The photo didn’t do the bike justice. Sleek and muscular, the real thing reeked of power and sex. Right down to the naked man painted on the gas tank.

“Okay, go circulate,” Claire said to Ted. “See if you can hear any buzz from the other bidders.”

Her assistant looked around. “You can already hear the buzz. The whole room’s full of it.”

“A classic Mannhof goes on sale, maybe, once a decade. I’m going to have that bike if I have to kill someone to get it.”

Ted’s eyes widened. “If anyone but you said that, I’d think it was a joke.”

“Just circulate, will you? I need to know what I’m up against.”

Ted rose and walked toward the back of the crowd, while the auctioneer approached the podium and tapped the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, next we have item number 346. Page fifty of your catalogues. A hand-made Mannhof motorcycle, vintage 1957.”

Ted had been right about the buzz. It grew until it was clearly audible. Hell, she could feel it in her bones. Mannhofs came along so seldom that most of the general public had never heard of them. One had caused a stir eleven years ago when a rock star bought one for half-a-million dollars. That one didn’t compare to this beauty.

“This classic has only had one owner since it was built,” the auctioneer continued.

The owner must have had an appreciation for the male body, or the man on the fuel tank made no sense. Completely nude, he reclined with his torso propped up on one elbow. He was a double entendre of the most wicked kind — a play on a woman taking so much strength between her legs. Mannhof couldn’t have known it, but he’d built that bike for her.

“Excellent maintenance and low mileage make this a spectacular find,” the auctioneer said. “We’ll start the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars.”

Claire didn’t raise her paddle. The auction would take some time to play out, and there was no point showing her interest yet. If the rest knew the CEO of Consolidated Industries International wanted the Mannhof, they’d bid her up just for the excitement. No, she’d wait until the serious bids started coming.

One hundred, one fifty, two hundred, two twenty-five — clearly this would top the half million Kid Dagger had paid eleven years ago. She could wait.

Ted returned and sat beside her. “You were right about this thing. People are going nuts over it.”

“Did you hear anything interesting?”

“Mostly chatter. There’s one guy back there talking into a cell phone in Japanese.”

“Damn it. Matsumoto.”

“Nippon Manufacturing Matsumoto?”

“Do you know another Matsumoto with the money to spend on a Mannhof?”

Ted whistled softly between his teeth. “And you just beat him out of the Swiss contract.”

“This way if he gets the Mannhof, he gets a treasure and revenge.”

“He knows you want the cycle?” Ted asked.

“Matsumoto knows everything he needs to know.”

“The guy talking to him isn’t Japanese.” Ted twisted in his seat to glance toward the back of the room.

“Don’t look at him,” Claire said. “Pretend you didn’t see anything.”

Ted turned back around. The bidding had gone over three hundred thousand dollars and was heading toward four. Eventually, she’d have to show her hand, and then, they’d get an idea how serious her rival was in taking the Mannhof from her.

Matsumoto couldn’t have her bike. No straight male would ride something with a naked man on it. He wouldn’t dare paint over the picture, as that would lower the value. He’d stick the Mannhof in a museum somewhere, and it would never see the open road. The engine would sit silent. Such fine machinery deserved to run, to prove itself with all its power. Between her legs, with the leather of the seat thrumming against her thighs.

Heat crept up her cheeks, and a familiar breathlessness settled in her chest. Excitement. The same thrill she got negotiating a deal. All power was sexual at its core, and anyone who claimed otherwise was either a liar or a fool. She didn’t suffer either gladly, and she wouldn’t tolerate lies or foolishness in herself.

People made fun of her aloofness — called her an ice queen. None of them understood the raw sensuality of power. The naked man on the Mannhof’s tank did. He belonged to her, and she’d have him.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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.

BOOK REVIEW: Claimed by the Alien Shifter by Mina Carter #aliens #SciFiRomance #bookreview @minacarter

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She doesn’t need love. She’s getting cats. Lots of them.

She absolutely doesn’t need a sexy alien making her think of happily ever afters…

Elise doesn’t need a man, she has enough with her job and ensuring her brother, the President, stays out of trouble. Or, at the very least, doesn’t get humanity into an intergalactic war it can’t win.

She doesn’t have time for herself, never mind love, so when sexy alien Cade turns up in the bar she’s drowning her sorrows in, she absolutely shouldn’t take him home…

Or kiss him. Because kissing him reveals he has more than a few secrets. Like he’s… what the hell is she going to do with an innocent twenty-something alien who kisses like a god?

When he fights tigers bare-handed, putting his life on the line for those weaker than himself? Well, there’s only so much a girl can take…

She’s the beauty to his beast and his fated mate.

How does he tell her the monster inside him could get them both killed?

Cade’s seen two planets in his life and his farm was nothing like Earth. It’s loud, chaotic and he’s a fish not only out of water but off-planet and sucking deep space vacuum.

The scent of his mate changes everything. She’s tiny, delicate… everything he’s not. She’s his opposite, but she’s the home he never expected to find. He doesn’t care what it takes, he’ll make her see they’re perfect for each other.

Until she’s taken from him and the monster inside him takes charge.

He will save her, but revealing what he is to the Empire could get them both killed…

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MY REVIEW – 5 stars

It. Was. AWESOME!!

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this series, but I think this is my new favorite. Who wouldn’t want a sexy, protective, super sweet alpha male? And his true form is an added bonus! (Especially for fans of monsterly romances) – I hate spoilers so that’s all I’m saying! Read the book to find out what Cade really is.

Action, violence, some mystery and LOTS of heat fill the pages. Once I started reading, I couldn’t stop!

*Disclaimer: The author did not request a review of this title. I purchased a copy from Amazon. The review above is only my opinion.

Now in Paperback: Passionate Prisoners by NYT Bestseller Angela Knight #BDSM #SciFiRomance #Futuristic @AngelaKnight @changelingpress

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Passionate Prisoners by Angela Knight
Published by Changeling Press
Cover Art by Angela Knight

Five interstellar warriors clash with heroines who don’t back down from anything — especially love.

Roarke’s Prisoner: Starship captain Elise Morrell remembers the eager animal submission she once knew at Captain Michael Roarke’s ruthless hands. She’s determined not to become his toy again…

Stranded: Hawke’s been alone in the alien “Goldfish Bowl” for far too long. When Alex lands in his arms, they both realize they can fulfill each other’s every need — if they survive…

Chain of Kisses: For years, Prince Admiral Arles of Tor has been obsessed with the woman who jilted him at the altar. Gisel is now a mercenary space captain, and he’s determined to get her out of his system. Too bad she’s also a political liability he can’t afford…

Armored Hearts: Interstellar mercenary Captain Nick Rand is a vampire on the verge of starvation. Lieutenant Zara Tahir is willing to exchange blood for blood — and maybe kinky games — but Rand’s still her enemy. Right?

Blood and Steel: Elyn Castel spent decades as the slave of a sociopathic vampire. Cyborg Jarl “Blade” Bladin has killed the vampire, and now he’s is after Elyn. She’s finished if he gets his hands on her. But escaping is easier said than done…

Author Warning: Capture fantasy scenarios involving dubious consent may be triggers for some readers.

Get it at Amazon

EXCERPT

**Trigger Warning!**

Copyright ©2022 Angela Knight
Excerpt from Armored Hearts

If she hadn’t been so sick, she could have made the G.A.E. bastards pay a higher price when they found her in the middle of the camp. Unfortunately, it had been more than a month since her vampire had died, and Lieutenant Zara Tahir was deep in blood sickness.

They surrounded her, a yelling, laughing mob of massive shapes in helmets and black armor emblazoned with Godsson’s halo and planet logo. Those suits gave them enough raw power to take on a blast tank and win.

Even so, Zara hadn’t made it easy for them. Even in her lighter V.S.S. armor, she had the advantage in speed and agility. She’d fought so ferociously she’d triggered a spontaneous nosebleed. Feeling the hot wetness rolling down her upper lip as she spun and kicked, Zara snarled. It had been far too long since she’d tasted vampire blood. Wouldn’t be long before her own immune system killed her.

Not that these fuckers would give it the chance. They were pissed, and they planned to kill her. And worse.

It took all ten of them to get her down, spread eagled, and stripped. Their strength enhanced by their mechsuits, they shredded her light V.S.S. armor like wrapping paper. Hands clamped down on her arms and legs, pinning her to the camp’s packed dirt so painfully, she knew she’d have bruises.

Assuming she lived that long.

“Hold her still!” A man in lieutenant’s armor straightened, reached down to his belt, and clicked something. The groin cup of his armor slid aside, revealing a jutting erection.

Zara bucked again with a desperate wrenching twist that caught her captors by surprise. Snatching a fist free, she plowed it at the officer’s balls. He jerked back and she missed, though so narrowly she felt the brush of his pubic hair against her knuckles. “Shit!” he swore, spinning away. “That’s it, bitch!” To the men around him, he snarled, “Don’t you fuckin’ let her move. I’m going to teach that cunt her place. You can have whatever’s left.”

When he returned a moment later, looming behind the men who held her down, the lieutenant held a pulse rifle in both hands. He aimed the rifle butt at her face.

Knowing the blow would quite likely kill her, Zara sneered. “Go ahead, you cowardly son of a whore.”

The butt flashed as it began its descent…

“What the fuck is going on here?”

At the furious male roar, her attacker stopped dead in mid-swing, his eyes widening behind his faceplate. The whole mob jerked to face the roar’s owner, their body language shouting guilty alarm.

Good, Zara thought. A senior officer. Maybe he’d save her.

Then again, maybe he wanted to be first in line.

She’d heard Godsson had recently decreed that raping enemy female combatants was not a sin. They were, after all, unnatural creatures in daring to resist Godsson’s “holy” plans for the colony. He said it was his warriors’ responsibility to teach them proper submission.

That kind of callous bullshit was exactly why Zara had joined the Falaran Coalition Army. She had no desire to live under any cult leader’s thumb — especially an asshole who called himself God’s Son.

“We, ah… found an enemy combatant,” the mob’s leader stammered.

“Yes, Lt. Godshammer, I know,” the officer said, his voice steely with sarcasm. “I heard her screaming from the other end of the camp. What, you boys thought you’d commit a war crime or two? Not on my watch. Get the hell away from her.”

“But His Most Holy said –”

“You are not raping that woman, Godshammer.” His tone dropped into a menacing hiss. “Get. Off.”

They let her go and scrambled away with a speed that was almost comical. Without even being told, all ten fell into formation, lining up at attention as if hoping it would save them from their commander’s rage. The lieutenant paused to close his groin cup, fumbling in his haste.

Zara lay in the dirt where she’d been left, too bloodsick to do anything else now that the immediate threat was over.

Boots padded toward her. “Are you all ri…” The officer broke off.

Oh, hell, what now? She looked wearily up at him as he stared down at her.

Zara froze.

He was the biggest damn vampire she’d ever seen in her life. It looked as if they’d turned somebody who’d been genetically engineered to begin with. She’d heard rumors that the G.A.E. had hired vampire mercenaries in response to the Falaran Coalition Army’s Vampire Defense Program. Godsson had ranted against vampires being perverts too many times for the G.A.E. to produce them outright, so hiring mercs was the best their army could do.

In any case, the G.A.E. had obviously gotten its money’s worth.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

Release Blitz: Returning Heroes by Harry F. Rey #LGBTQ #SciFiRomance #Aliens @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

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Title: Returning Heroes

Series: The Galactic Captains, Book Six

Author: Harry F. Rey

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/11/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 83100

Genre: SciFi, LGBTQIA+, action,adventure, aliens, dark, MM romance, #ownvoices, royalty, sci-fi, futuristic, space, folklore, gods, intercultural, interspecies, war of worlds

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Description

Captain Ales has returned to the galaxy, forever changed as the powers have prepared for war. He’ll accept help from anyone if it leads to the mysterious Turo from whose cage Ales must free himself if he ever wants to return to the Red Moon.

Meanwhile Daeron has been offered the deal of a lifetime by the ruler of the Seven Suns. Marry Osvai, the Kyleri prince, and become heir to the richest star-state in the galaxy while raising an army to restore the prince to his rightful place as Emperor of the Million Suns.

But Viscamon’s grip on Jiwani has only tightened as the nobles imprisoned in the Royal Baths still refuse to bow to the immortal’s cataclysmic theology of destroying the Galactic Balance. It seems the only way for Imperial Guard Captain Antari to avoid a massacre is outright treachery.

While dynasties play galactic politics, the Outer Verge is being torn apart. From a prison cell, Mahnoor watches The Rip destroying Targuline, until the Kyleri rebels offer him the chance to save himself by flying into the heart of danger. He might even become Jansen’s most unlikely hero.

Heroes and villains run riot around the galaxy, unleashing destructive forces and sliding the great powers toward a war from which no one will be safe.

Excerpt

Returning Heroes
Harry F. Rey © 2022
All Rights Reserved

The sleek, spacious travel pod sliced through the swirling burnt-orange clouds of Bazman. Daeron edged forward on the puffed, pillowy chair that consistently failed to relax him. He tugged at the high collar of his pure-white Dalvian silk jacket—yet another gift from President Ezreal. He stared out the window at the spindly towers stretching in and out of the clouds above and below. The teeming city-world of Bazman, capital of the Confederation of the Seven Suns, supposedly the richest star-state in the Shakti Democria, was to Daeron no better than any of the thousands of worlds he’d been on. The rich lived above, flying around in these perfumed and carpeted pods, while the poor shuffled in and out of a noxious atmosphere far below.

Daeron could go anywhere he wanted on Bazman; no store, restaurant, menagerie, or cultural complex was too exclusive for President Ezreal’s new favorite son. Six weeks ago, they’d barely escaped the Kyleri fleet which had blown up Aldegar’s megacollider. Daeron and the remaining crew of the Daring Huntress chased Turo and the double-crossing Ezi into the Shakti Nebula, only to end up invited to land here by Ezreal’s security forces. On Bazman, where he could go anywhere at all, just not leave.

“What’s wrong now, Daeron?” Osvai said, relaxing in his similarly styled—but all black—Dalvian silk suit. The missing heir to the Kyleri Empire sipped on a Lactarian malt from a crystal glass while grinning at an entertainment package broadcast on the holoscreen in front of his seat. Lest His Imperial Majesty get bored in the half hour it takes to get from Bazman’s presidential palace to the restaurant opening. Daeron glanced over at the prince who was now biting his lip to keep from laughing at the holovid. Daeron watched for a moment. He’d never seen anything so stupid.

“What’s so funny about people walking into things? It’s cruel.”

Osvai wasn’t listening. He gasped in laughter as some poor unsuspecting holo-person had a pile of trash dumped on their head. Daeron flung himself against the seat, but it only absorbed the shock and began to massage his lower back. Daeron could huff all he wanted, but Osvai had stopped caring about what bothered Daeron. He stroked his thick black beard, forgetting it was still glistening in the fancy oils Osvai made him use. Daeron wiped his greasy hand on the plush arm of the chair and returned to staring out the window at the traffic lanes of pods gliding through the clouds and between the towers—with no end and no beginning.

“Are Xenia and the rest of the crew coming tonight?” Daeron asked, breathing slowly through his nose, trying to let the fury of being stuck in a gilded prison subside. It wasn’t going anywhere. Just like him.

“They left.”

Daeron spun on the chair to face Osvai.

“They…left?”

“Yeah. Didn’t I tell you?” Osvai said, not looking up from the holovid. Daeron yanked at the silk collar constricting his neck, and it let out a satisfying rip.

“No…you didn’t tell me. That was…my crew. My ship.” Daeron was doing everything in his power to stay calm, but he knew his string was about to snap. Maybe if Osvai understood that, they wouldn’t spend half their nights screaming at each other in their apartment in the presidential palace.

“I guess they went to meet your mom.” Osvai drained his glass, then stretched and placed it inside an alcove grooved into the wall where a nozzle filled it back up. “Isn’t it her crew again now she’s back?”

Daeron fell into a sulking silence at the mention of his mom. Maybe Osvai knew him better than he thought. Because the moment Captain Sanya was raised, Daeron shut down. It had been weeks since she and that Tevian girlfriend of hers, Sallah, had crossed back through the horizon point with her brat, Ales. Had they come to see him? No. Daeron had only learned their mission had been successful from the newscasts. The returning hero Captain Ales, who apparently had an Ingvarian fleet at his disposal now, as well as the entire Outer Verge, had been spotted at the Mayo resort in the Central Star States. After their collective trauma, Captain Sanya, Sallah, and Ales had decided to play happy families and treat themselves to a little vacation at one of the most expensive systems in the galaxy.

It hurt Daeron hard. He’d still not seen her. Not even a holovid call. He stretched out his hand and opened his palm-tech to flick through the only messages his mom had sent since she’d returned.

The megacollider is gone then?

Yeah, as if a rebel Kyleri fleet blowing up an ancient sphere surrounding an entire sun had been his fault. Then, loving, motherly message number two.

Why is Osvai not back on Jiwani? And you lost Turo? Can’t you do anything right?

Good point. Why was Osvai not back on Jiwani?

“Don’t you care at all?” Daeron snapped, spitting his frustrations at Osvai. The prince finally looked up from the holovid, staring back with those thin eyes and sunset skin that Daeron couldn’t deny filled him with lust. Even if he was perpetually pissed off at him.

“Care about what, Daeron?”

“Your fucking empire.” Daeron stood up, kicking the chair hard so it spun like a ship out of control. Osvai drained his glass again and, with an overly audible sigh, came over to Daeron and slid his small arms as far around Daeron as they could go. But Daeron wriggled out of his half hug and slunk to the back of the pod, watching the dusty clouds spinning like a vortex as they flew.

“What do you want me to do, Daeron? Fight Viscamon for my throne with what army, exactly?”

“My mom said to take you home.”

“Oh, your mom said. It’s always the same story with you, Daeron. Your mom says you have to stay on Jiwani with a father you never knew, and you stayed. Your mom says look after me until I’m back on Jiwani, and you blame me for staying in the one place in the galaxy no one’s trying to kill me!”

Here we go. Another screaming match.

“Can we not do this now?” Daeron said, arms folded and his back to Osvai. “The president invited us to this restaurant opening, and since he’s the one keeping you safe and letting us stay for free, we don’t need you getting drunk and making a scene.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, more drunk.”

Osvai sucked in a short breath. If they’d learned one thing about each other since escaping Jiwani together on the night of Osvai’s father, Emperor Kantori’s, assassination, it was how to push each other’s buttons.

“When was the last time you saw Xenia?” Osvai asked, lathered in bitterness. “Or Tal, or Bindi? Or even Voros? When was it? Kaj’s memorial service?”

“Shut up, Osvai.”

“You haven’t asked about them in weeks. So don’t pretend you didn’t know they’d leave. You didn’t want to know.”

“I said shut up!”

“You can say I’m afraid all you want. And yes, I am afraid of going back to Jiwani when Viscamon is imprisoning nobles until he’s blackmailed enough to crown himself emperor. That’s a normal thing to be scared of. But you—”

“Osvai, I’m fucking warning you.” Daeron spun around to see him sauntering around the pod with a look of victory splashed across his face.

“You might look like a big scary man, Daeron, but you’re just a little boy. Afraid of what his mommy will say.”

Daeron had already exploded. Fury prickled his body; sweat soaked the suit. He’d throw Osvai out of this pod if he could. His fists clamped together, ready to test just how much of a punch this glass could take.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the pod’s soft female voice said with a ding. “Have a pleasant evening.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Harry F. Rey is an author and lover of gay themed stories with a powerful punch with influences ranging from Alan Hollinghurst to Isaac Asimov to George R.R. Martin. He loves all things sci-fi and supernatural, and always with a gay twist. Harry is originally from the UK but lives in Jerusalem, Israel with his husband.

Website | Twitter

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New at Changeling Press: Satisfcation by Megan Slayer #LGBTQ #SciFiRomance @MeganSlayer @changelingpress

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Darryl Tackas needs a miracle — he wants to find the man who makes him whole. Running Start Me Up and helping other men find their happy endings is great, but Darryl wants a happy ever after of his own. When he learns Lew has a crush on him, Darryl hopes magic will spark between them.

Lew George has wanted Darryl for so long, but he’s been too shy to make a move. When a mutual friend hooks them up, Lew can’t hold back. He’s sure he’s found the one, but can they really have a forever together?

Save 15% at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Megan Slayer

1981

Darryl watched the pretty boys at the bar, and part of him wished he could convince one to come home with him. The rest of him knew the handsome young men wouldn’t choose him. He had fifteen years on most of them and had seen life. They’d want someone with fewer miles on them.

He wouldn’t be the right fit.

He shifted on the barstool. One day, he’d find someone. He’d thought he had with Owen. He’d loved Owen. Thought they’d have a long future together. That they’d grow old and have a house together.

Then the accident happened, and his life changed.

Fucking hell. He’d never forget seeing Owen on the ground. His heart remained with his lover.

But he couldn’t grieve with everyone else. He’d had to watch from the sidelines when Owen was buried because Owen’s family despised him. They didn’t want Owen to be gay. Besides that, he’d never really healed because, after five years, he hadn’t given himself the chance to move on. It was time, but he had no idea how to do it or with whom.

He had the gift to bring people back from the dead, to give them a second chance at life, but he couldn’t fix his own. What a shame!

“Darryl.” Bob, the co-owner of Start Me Up, their electronics shop, joined him at the bar. He sat next to Darryl. “Watching the wildlife?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I guess I am. What are you doing here? Aren’t you going to see Louise?”

“I was, but she’s busy.” Bob shrugged. “We do this sometimes, you know? We take breaks. It’s a matter of time. We’ve been together for ten years, but we get tired. It’s silly, but the off-time makes us stronger.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” He didn’t see the point of breaks, but he’d have to be with someone first.

“It doesn’t always work, but we come back to each other.” Bob ordered a beer. “Why don’t you get a date?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready.” Would he ever be ready? “Who would want me? I spend a lot of time at the store and in the dark. I’m a nerd.”

“No, you’re not. You’re hurting.” Bob bumped shoulders with him. “But there are guys out there who could love you in the way you need.”

“Yeah?” He finished his beer. “Got any suggestions?”

“Actually, I do.”

“What? I can’t imbue one of my robots with Owen’s spirit. It’s too late.” He placed the bottle on the bar. “None of these guys, right? They’re too young.”

“Hell, yes, they are. You weren’t even born in the same decade.” Bob laughed. “No, the one I have in mind is Lew.”

“Lew?” He stared at Bob. “You’re kidding. He and I are friends. I don’t know if it’d work to change the relationship. He helps us.”

“He does, without expecting payment,” Bob said. “Do you really think he does that out of the kindness of his heart? He does it because he loves you.”

“He told you that?” He’d never gotten a hint that Lew felt that way.

“He didn’t have to say it out loud. It’s obvious.” Bob downed more of his beer. “Why don’t you go to the shop? He’s got a line on someone needing your special help.”

“Another soul to save?”

“Satisfaction guaranteed.” Bob finished his beer. “Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He left the bar.

Darryl snorted. Bob had left without paying for his beer. The jerk. Darryl paid for both and left a tip, then walked out of the bar.

Darryl strode into the night and headed for his shop. Summer parties rang out from the various apartment balconies. He enjoyed parties. Hell, he’d had a good time with Rascal and Gage at their parties. But he hated being alone.

When he opened the door to the shop, he spotted Lew at the counter. “Hi,” Darryl said. He locked the door behind him. “I hear you have someone for me. Who is the person needing help?”

“Not just anyone,” Lew said. “I want you to help me.”

“You?” He tamped down his intrigue and rounded the counter. “How? You’re not dying, are you?” Fuck, he didn’t want that to happen.

“No, I’m not.” Lew chuckled. “But I need satisfaction.”

“Oh?” He leaned on the counter. “I’m listening.”

“I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of going home to an empty apartment. You seem to know who to help and who to ignore. I’m hoping you can help me with that special gift you have. Find that perfect someone for me.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

Awakening by Mikala Ash #steampunk #romance @Ash_Mikala @changelingpress

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Anne Device, daughter of a prostitute turned spiritualist, has seen it all — degradation, desperation, anger, pain, and sorrow. Unbroken by the rough and dirty streets of Whitechapel, Anne’s world revolves around her family — her mother, sister, and brother.

Enter the charismatic and attractive Lord Carlyle, a gentleman magician who sees in Anne the potential to move worlds. For the first time Anne experiences the magic of romantic love. A rags to riches story she’d only imagined possible in a Faerie tale.

On her glorious wedding night she willingly gives her body, but the days that followed will test her very soul.

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Mikala Ash

I await my husband.

My name is Anne Device. I am nineteen years of age, and this is my wedding night. Already I am in error. Is this the first lesson of my new life? That it is not possible to truly let go of the past?

My new name is Lady Anne Carlyle, the virgin bride of Lord Lucian Carlyle of Lancashire.

How grand that sounds. I whisper it aloud, over and over, hoping it is all real, and not some silly and impossible dream. I began this chronicle to quell my nerves, for truly, my hand holding the quill trembles, and ink drops litter the page like the footprints of a confused imp.

My husband, how strange it is to write those words, for they seem to resonate in my mind like the incantations spoken to create an earthquake or a tumultuous storm at sea.

My husband, my husband, my husband, my husband.

Indeed, what tremors will I soon experience in the marriage bed behind where I sit?

I read what I have written, and a strong desire has taken an irresistible hold. I seem compelled to record my new life so I can remember in my dotage what these times are like. The more I think about it I realise general sentiments will probably mean little to my future self. In fifty years will I remember the context? Probably not. With that in mind I’ve decided to keep as detailed a record as possible of my new state, and how it came about.

My husband, Lucian, is downstairs in his marvellous library. “Prepare yourself, my little dove,” he had said when his closest friends, a curious collection of serious men of science had left. “I return you to your mother’s care for a final word before you become Lady Carlyle in spirit as in law.”

Lady Anne Carlyle. I wonder if I should ever get used to the title, or indeed to people bowing and curtsying as I pass, as they did today at the church.

To think, ten years ago I was barefoot with dirty rags draped over my scrawny shoulders, with my empty belly growling like a wild dog while I hawked matches on the corner of Commercial and Fournier Streets in Spitalfields. Gone now from my life were the slums where my mama sold herself to soldiers and sailors in the cramped room that also housed my younger brother and sister. Jennet and James, both of different fathers, and both unlike me in nature and disposition. Fragile Jennet so meek and mild, and James boisterous and impatient. That James would turn to soldiering was no surprise. He saw enough of them to acquire their rough ways and wanderlust. The mystery was how Jennet and I remained intact. How my mama withstood the temptation to sell our virginity, for we would have drawn a goodly price, is testament to the fact that she has principles, though she disguised them well enough when dealing with her men.

How to explain my conversion from ragamuffin with dirt smudged on my hollow cheeks to a sweet-smelling young woman able to attract the love of a lord? Though seemingly miraculous, and I will not deny the magical quality of the transition, the reason is simple enough.

My mama loves us. Of that there is no doubt. No matter the countless difficulties she endured and overcame, she insisted on educating us. In between male callers and our jobs; my selling lucifers on the corner with Jennet shivering beside me, and James off running telegrams for tuppence a day, she taught us our letters and sums, and how to behave in front of our betters. I grew up on a healthy diet of penny shockers, and sensational novels published in serial form. My favourite stories were those rags to riches tales. I enjoyed them because they were so fanciful, and for a little time they took me out of the squalor that was my daily fare. Never did I imagine I would emulate my brave and virtuous heroines. Mama instructed me in other things denied to Jennet and James. Things I was ordered never to speak about, lest we all ‘end up dangling at the end of a rope.’ A rule I am now breaking, though none shall read this but my future self.

Though he does not know everything about us, Lord Carlyle is fully aware of our lowly state, Mama’s pitiful occupation, and what she had sacrificed for her children. We have hidden little of that time from him. It bothers him not. That is a miracle, and one for which I am grateful.

So much for that chapter of my life. That strange creature who bore my name is gone forever, and I now embark on a new story. I will awaken in the morn a different person. A woman.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.