New at Changeling Press: Legally Claimed by Alexa Piper #LGBTQ #vampires #urbanfantasy @prowlingpiper @changelingpress

Legally Claimed (Elvenswood Tales)

By Alexa Piper

Published by Changeling Press

Peter is good at being a lawyer. He also happens to be a vampire, which — in his experience — is far less exciting than the books make it out to be. The most romance he gets these days is watching others fall in love. But this vicarious lifestyle isn’t something Peter minds or even wants to change.

Theo escaped an abusive relationship and is determined to get his college degree, even if prostitution is how he pays for it. No stranger to the supernatural, he has agreed to let vampires bite him for money, but his first client in the new city is nothing like Theo expected.

Peter has no good reason to tuck Theo into bed after that blood donation, but he does. Peter also has no reason to fantasize about Theo, and yet, Peter’s mind is soon drifting to the pretty, black-haired, jade-eyed boy he doesn’t even really know.

A chance encounter at New Elvenswood University brings Peter’s fantasies close to reality. Theo’s vampiric ex soon becomes a problem Peter will have solve. And he won’t use his skills as a lawyer to do it, either.

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 Alexa Piper

Sitting behind his desk at his law firm, Peter Collins stared at the spreadsheet that was currently open on his work laptop. But the columns and all the numbers made no sense. Spreadsheets never did when Peter hadn’t had some nice fresh blood in a while, even if he normally loved himself some Excel magic. Sighing theatrically for the benefit of exactly no one because he was alone in his office, Peter leaned back in his ergonomically optimized chair and glared at the damned spreadsheet. It still made no sense, and obviously, his glaring was wasted on the damn screen. With a dismissive gesture, Peter closed his laptop and got to his feet.

He had the corner office, naturally, because he had founded the law firm Collins & Partners. Most days he liked the room that had been designed with an eye to justifying what his clients were billed for an hour of his lawyery time. But right this moment, Peter couldn’t spend another second in here because the cubist paintings just seemed gaudy.

Peter swung the glass door open with a touch and hurried down the hallway, the nice scowl on his face forcing everyone to move out of his way. Peter barged into Michael’s office, and the handsome siren looked up.

“Anything you need?” Michael asked.

Oh, Peter had a list of things he conceivably needed from Michael, and that list had grown ever since Michael had started working for him. At first, Peter had entertained thoughts of a nice, tempestuous affair with the delicious-looking siren. Peter had never had siren’s blood, and he’d wondered what Michael’s blood would taste like in the throes of passion.

However, Michael had not been interested, and Peter was not one to force his own desire on others because, the bother. Then, Michael had started dating a human, the cutest little librarian in all New Elvenswood, and that had been better, because Peter got to watch those two being adorable together. He’d also gotten to watch the cutie-pie librarian go up against a Yule cat to protect Michael, and then the three of them had enjoyed a vacation with a little zombie extravaganza on the entertainment front. It had been such fun.

Now, Peter’s siren and the cute librarian were planning their wedding, and Peter, to whom the sweet little librarian had given the epithet “the Terrible,” felt he was not involved enough. Yet, Peter could not outright state the injustice, because then he would have to explain his desire to be more involved, and the bother.

But still, in the face of a properly engaged Michael doing some paperwork or other, all Peter wanted to say was that he needed to be consulted on wedding decisions.

The goddamn bother. “Just checking in. I wanted to make sure you were dealing with your current caseload. I would understand if you needed more time with Corvin right now.”

Michael smiled up at Peter. “It’s fine, actually. Corvin’s excited and he’s still processing that his best friend is dating an Elf. And a vampire.”

Peter nodded. “Those are Lord Laurette’s lovers, yes?” That sweet, bookish Corvin was friends with one of the Elven lord’s lovers was, frankly, a wonderful happenstance. Peter had high hopes of meeting them and watching that story unfold. If an Elf such as Laurette of the Silver Moons had claimed two lovers, that romance truly had to be epic. Peter would like nothing better than to watch that love story from the sidelines, but still close enough to where the action was happening. Michael and Corvin would always be Peter’s favorites, but an Elf, a human, and a vampire? There was just no way that was not a romance built for swooning over in secret.

Michael nodded. “Yes. Corvin can’t believe he had to be engaged to a siren and survive a horde of zombies before getting told about all that.”

“Understandable. Perhaps we should go to the library? To surprise your Corvin, of course. I should like to make sure he is fine after that drama with the garden shears in Morrowvale.”

Really, Michael had to give Peter that. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and Peter loved seeing Michael and Corvin kiss, touch — all that wonderful intimacy.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Find Alexa Online: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | TikTok | BookBub

Release Blitz: All the Wrong Reasons by Sebastian Hansen #LGBTQ #fantasy #BDSM @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

Title: All the Wrong Reasons

Author: Sebastian Hansen

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/28/2021

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 111700

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, Romance, urban fantasy, action, family-drama, superheroes, gay, nonbinary, trans, BDSM, secret identity, billionaire, Dom/sub relationship

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Description

The day after telekinetic supervillain (and billionaire philanthropist), Stetson Nadenheimer dies, he wakes up on the autopsy table and falls in lust with the man hired to cut his cold, dead corpse open. The problem is that the forensic pathologist is Doctor Julian Dandridge, the part-time superhero, Scatter. It’s probably a bad idea for a supervillain to get into bed with a superhero. Probably.

Not that it stops him, but trying to start a relationship with a reluctant hero without getting caught turns out to be easier said than done. Between midnight meetings over games of checkers and kinky secrets, Stetson and Julian begin a tremulous romance. Unfortunately for them, there’s an actual villain watching from the shadows, waiting for Stetson to stumble.

Excerpt

All the Wrong Reasons
Sebastian Hansen © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
STETSON

The last thing I remember seeing before I died was the garish gold and orange spandex-clad fist of Major Bigstuff flying at my face at something like a million miles an hour. I lost my telekinetic grip on the wall I was holding. The debris came down on my head, which the masonry squished like a rotten melon. Brains all over the place. Bones shattered. Totally dead.

Not my finest hour.

A day later, I woke up on the medical examiner’s slab. Nobody knows why this happens. It’s a super-thing. Superheroes come back from the dead all the time. It’s practically a requirement for the job. Like when you go to get your physical at the Hall of Good Guys Forever and they stab you in the heart to make sure you’ve got what it takes to come back. I’m not entirely sure this is true, but you hear rumors.

What’s odd about me waking up is that I wasn’t a superhero. I was kind of the opposite. The anti-superhero.

My name is Stetson Nadenheimer (it’s not my fault), and before my timely death, I was a supervillain. They call me Jester. Nice to meet you.

It’s not that supervillains don’t come back from the dead. We do, but it’s usually the big-time ones. The “build a death ray and hold the world to ransom for all the money” ones. I’m not even Major Bigstuff’s main rival. He just happened to be flying past the bank I was robbing on his way home from Denny’s.

That’s what I did, by the way—rob banks. No building death rays, no kidnapping or killing people. I’d never even held anyone hostage. My Fortress of Evil is more like a Penthouse Belonging to That Mildly Irritating Villain.

But I liked robbing banks. Since most super-people are what you’d call physical (strength, size, agility, speed—you know, that kind), they don’t know what to do when someone’s power is mental. Mental powers aren’t common—and they’re not popular. Telepathy isn’t as flashy as super strength and doesn’t play well on camera. Hence, nobody’s figured out anti-telekinetic security.

Besides, I liked to flirt with the tellers. They had no idea how to handle a tall, handsome man in a sleek (cheap) black tux and white masquerade mask. I’ve got some killer green eyes too. Alas, while my black hair is long enough for a ponytail (tellers love ponytails), I kept it bound up and hidden in a hat. I’ve never wanted to take over the world, but I’m damned charming. It drives superheroes up the wall.

Anyway, back to the ME’s slab. Right. So. After knowing for a fact that my brains are all over the floor of the First United Citizens Bank on Twenty-second Street, I open my eyes. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever woken up to? In my case, it was a whirring bone saw in the general vicinity of my head.

I screamed. Well, wouldn’t you?

The bone saw immediately stopped, and I quickly became aware of someone laughing. A glance to my left confirmed that I wasn’t alone. A young man in green scrubs with tousled blond hair was turned away, covering his mouth to hide his grin.

“Works every time,” he said and set the saw down on a table just out of my reach. Then he turned to look at me, and I stopped breathing again.

In addition to the adorable hair, the man was indeed young with deep-blue eyes, dimples, and the prettiest smile I’d ever seen.

The smile faded quickly. “Welcome back.” He narrowed his eyes and watched me carefully.

My mouth opened to say something, but my brain hadn’t caught up. It was still trying to imagine what the man would look like in my bed. I’m an uncomplicated person like that. It might not have been love at first sight, but lust? Certainly. The problem currently facing me was this: I was obviously in a morgue of some kind, half-naked, drenched in my own blood, and sitting on a frigidly cold metal table. The place smelled of chemicals—formalin (I found out later) and bleach.

Forget flirting. This man had seen me dead, which is so much worse than naked.

Eventually, I managed a strangled, “Hello.”

The corner of his mouth quirked, and the smile came back slightly. He nodded and walked away from me toward the far wall, where he dug a clear bottle of water out of a cooler. He held it up for my inspection. “Thirsty?”

I nodded. My voice was still on the fritz, and he thought it was because my throat was dry instead of…oh…any other reason. I was thankful for it. Anyway, my mouth was parched. I took the bottle gratefully and drank half in one go before finding my voice again.

“Do you often wake people up in the morgue with a bone saw?”

He smiled. I wanted to melt. God. I can’t describe that smile and do it justice. Accept for a moment that it was stunning, will you? If it helps, compare it to rainbows on sunny spring mornings. Like the sun rising at dawn. The light of his smile forgave all sins, watered all crops, and brokered world peace.

The hyperbole is necessary. Everything that happened after that night started with his smile wrapping me up and turning my world on its head.

“Only people like you.” The smile didn’t budge.

“People like…me.”

“Dead people who aren’t dead anymore.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “So, you do it to heroes, too, then?”

He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes thoughtfully. “Mm-hm. They don’t like it either—Mistress Tidal broke one on me, but there’s something about the sound. It tends to bring people around quickly.”

“The alternative is getting our heads cut into.”

He laughed. Please insert a description of silvery bells and songbirds here. He had a pleasant voice. “I wasn’t going to cut you open. You were already breathing.”

“I…was?” I glanced around, certain I knew where I was now. I looked down at my blood-stained hand. “Tell me, were you able to get fingerprints off my corpse? I’ve never been arrested before, so I doubt they’d do you any good.”

“No.” He shook his head. “And no DNA either.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Ah. And now we’re just waiting for reinforcements to arrive, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” He smiled again, and my reply stuck in my throat. “It’s nearly ten o’clock on a Thursday night. Nobody’s around.”

“Ah…and you’re alone here with a formerly dead supervillain because you’re, what? Confident in your medical plan?” I asked with a snort.

He laughed again. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me. I’m pretty durable. My name is Dr. Julian Dandridge. I’m a part-time superhero. They call me Scatter.”

Ah, Scatter. I’d heard of him, but never run up against him. He belonged to the Guild, which was Kinsley City’s very own organization of superheroes. A sort of Hall of Self-Righteousness. Major Bigstuff ran the show over there.

Well, that put a wrench in my dream of having him tie me to my bed.

I frowned. The revelation that Dr. Julian was a lost cause stung more than it should have, considering we’d just met. Still, he was in the Guild, and that wasn’t good for me by any means.

The Guild didn’t typically bother about me. I was small-time and didn’t offer much in the way of a challenge. When I did run into one of their members, I tended to extract myself from the situation as quickly as possible. I can fly—and over my months-long bank robbing spree, I’d gotten good at evading the Guild’s fliers.

I glanced around, getting my bearings. A few pencils on the desk behind Julian rolled on my command, and I breathed a little easier. My telekinesis was up and ready to go.

I smiled. “You know what they call me, I’m assuming.”

“Jester.” He shrugged. “So, here’s what’s going to happen—”

I held up a hand to forestall him and started talking. It was important to prattle on so his attention focused on me and my mouth. That way, he wouldn’t notice me telekinetically prying the window out of its frame until it was too late.

“There’re a couple ways this could go. The first is dull and causes more of a mess than its worth. You call your Guild. They show up, we have a spirited scrap, and maybe I end up dead again. If not, and you manage to throw me in SuperMax, I call my astronomically overpriced lawyer and make bail in under an hour. Then we spend weeks wading through red tape, and in the end, I get a slap on the wrist, some community service, and maybe a fine. I’m not the kind of supervillain who makes headlines, Scatter, and you lot have bigger things to worry about than someone like me. Death rays and such.”

He crossed his arms.

“Of course, there’s option number two.” Grinning, I simultaneously lifted myself off the table and out of Julian’s reach and crooked my finger at the window, popping it out of its frame and setting it gently aside. “Which involves me escaping. You can’t fly, can you?”

“If I could, I’d have you down already.” He shrugged. Then he did something I did not expect.

He winked.

I paused near the ceiling. “You’re letting me go?” I asked, incredulously.

“Letting you go? Oh no. No. What kind of superhero would I be if I let a villain escape?”

“A very bad one.” I pressed my hands against the ceiling and stared down at him in disbelief.

He frowned. “Do you want me to stop you?” The tone of his voice implied that he could. I believed him.

“Not particularly.”

He looked away, thinking, arms crossed, then glanced back at me. “Then do me a favor and knock over some tables on your way out.”

“So it looks like we got into the aforementioned tussle?” I asked.

“Plausible deniability.”

I blinked.

“Look, either go or don’t. Let’s just say I’ve seen some things, Jester. Supervillain?” He smirked. “Sure.”

“You’ve seen some—”

He waved me away. “Get out of here. If I see you near a bank in the future, you can be sure I won’t be so nice next time.”

I stared at him for a few more seconds, but his expression suggested that his patience was wearing thin and the invitation to escape wouldn’t last indefinitely.

So, stunned and unsure if what had happened was real, I flew out of the window. But I made sure to knock over two sets of shelves and a table on my way out.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Sebastian Hansen (she/her) is a non-binary mess of a person. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and herd of opinionated cats, where she spends most of her time playing video games, reading comic books, and writing about superheroes. She likes strawberries and is easily frightened by the Internet.

Website | Twitter

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New at Changeling Press: Cunning Man by Lena Austin #urbanfantasy #PNR #gay @Lena_Austin @changelingpress

St. John Everett ekes out a living as a bartender in New Orleans. Then the pandemic strikes and things begin to shut down — including the bar where he works. Things start looking up when Jin is notified that he’s inherited a cottage in England from a great-uncle he knew nothing about. Out of a job, with no employment opportunities on the horizon, Jin boards a plane to London.

He falls immediately in love with the small cottage and the tiny village of Manuden, and in lust with his new solicitor, Rick Harrow. But Rick isn’t just his solicitor. He’s descended from a long line of Guardians of the local Cunning Man — the title and powers Jin inherited along with the cottage. No longer just a bartender, Jin is now a legendary male witch who uses prophecy, herbalism, and witch bottles to protect the local community.

With his three magical white mice, his Guardian/lover, and the Witches of Essex, Jin must use his new powers as The Cunning Man to save the village, his lover, and his new friends from a pandemic gone wild. And who knows? If his talent making witch bottles is as good as it is with juggling booze bottles, he might even save the world.

Save 15% Today at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Lena Austin

Jin sat in stunned silence with the rest of the employees of the Last Call Bar, just off Bourbon Street. The smell of the recently departed customers — a combination of sweat, smoke, booze, and musk — still clung to the air. No one moved or spoke until Jenny rasped out one short sob. Then all hell broke loose.

“What do you mean, we’re closing?”

“How long, Barry? How long will this fucking pandemic lockdown last? I got bills to pay!”

Barry looked ready to cry. He was a dead ringer for Santa despite the aloha shirt he wore year-round. Jin knew why and jumped up and put his thin arms around the big man for a sideways hug. Barry’s whole body shook with a sigh.

Jin turned to his coworkers and gave them his best Calm Down look. Every bartender had one. Even while Jin quite literally juggled bottles, he usually could quell all but the rowdiest with his. He waited until they all subsided. “We all know Barry’s brother just died up in New York because of this. Even if the pandemic seems isolated to New York and Washington right now, none of us are stupid enough to think it’s going to stay there. Barry’s just being preemptive. You all know it’s coming, and we work in a place where everyone is spreading their germs all over each other and us.” He grinned wryly at them all. “Booze isn’t anything folks need to live. Time for us to think ahead. What do folks need when they’re trapped in their houses and afraid to come out? Food? Like, delivery? Everyone, get your butts out there and hire yourself to all the food delivery places. Pizza, grocery delivery, whatever. Your side hustles just became your main income. Barry can call us when he reopens. Right?”

This was his one secret gift, in action. He’d always had the ability to read a situation, organize it, and usually could find a solution to the chaos out of the millions of weird facts he locked in storage in his brain. He hated it, most of the time. It felt Machiavellian, like playing chess with real people. This time, it felt right to use it.

There were mumbles, but almost everyone had their thinking caps on instead of panicking. That was the main thing. Barry generously handed out a split of the night’s money, giving everyone a chance to ramp up their side hustle or go find other work. He got hugs and murmured words of reassurance in return. By 3 AM, most had cleaned up and departed.

Jin helped Barry lock up the bar and took home the celery and food in the bar fridge. He would enjoy the garnishes as a meal before bed. He didn’t like admitting it to his now-former coworkers, but he knew he’d have the hardest time finding a delivery job. He didn’t own a car. He rode a bike, walked, or took public transportation. He’d never learned to drive. Orphans who aged out of the foster system didn’t have the advantage of parents to teach them. He didn’t know how to do anything but serve in restaurants and tend the bar. Well, that and peddle his assets. That’s what he’d done as a hungry, lonely teenager, and if necessary, he’d sell blowjobs again. But that was the last resort. Well, not quite the last resort. He could use his degree for once. He’d bet even his bachelor’s in medical plant chemistry would be needed. He gave one bark of derisive laughter. Who would have guessed his useless degree might come in handy? In the meantime, he’d need an income. He had to pay rent. Student loans were the bulk of his budget but rent made sure you didn’t sleep in the rain. Therefore, rent money was a top priority.

Well, he’d have to look around at the local food joints to see who might need… shit. What? New Orleans wasn’t closing down yet, but it would. And Bourbon Street would become a ghost town. Jin rode his bike down the dark streets of early morning New Orleans and pedaled home. He reminded himself he had time. A few weeks, probably. Then every major city would shut down. Louisiana would be one of the last because New Orleans depended on the tourist industry. That was just an economic reality. Jin shuddered, knowing he was living in a giant Petri dish. Masks. He’d need masks. Maybe that was a side hustle he could do. He could sew. He just didn’t have a sewing machine. Maybe he could borrow one or find one in a thrift store. Okay, option one. Sew masks. That was a start.

The gates to his apartment were wide open, and Jin turned into the driveway and sped to the back of the large house and right up to the side of the former carriage house. He locked his bike to the stair as an improvised gate and made his way up to the little studio apartment he called home. His mail was tucked into the basket by the door as usual, but this time a large manilla envelope bulged out above the junk mail. Curious, Jin grabbed it all and got inside. His top hat and purple coat were hot in the humid early spring air, and he was happy to get out of the steampunk outfit he wore as a sort of trademark. In a matter of minutes, he had a mug of tea and the curious envelope in his hand. Barefoot and in loose cotton pants, he blinked at the address.

“To Mr. St. John Everett…”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

BOOK REVIEW: Orc’s Toy: A Monster Romance by Celeste King #orcs #urbanfantasy #fantasyromance

A huge, scary, monster Orc Chieftain has his hands on me.
He could break me with one hand, I’m so tiny compared to him.
But he won’t.
Because I’m his female and I love him.

Korthar rules his clan with an iron fist.
He’s merciless to his enemies. But he’s got a soft spot for me.

Before him, I didn’t have much going in my life.
Earth is pretty much a desolate wasteland since the Orcs came over from Protheka.
And being a woman? The best you can hope is to be someone’s property.

Now, after my curvy body catches Korthar’s eye I’m worth something in this world at least.
My giant warrior will protect me.
He’ll claim me. And I’ll serve him. In any way he pleases.

But I’ll also give him a gift that he’ll never have to ask me for.
Something better than any fantasy, no matter how twisted.

What is this gift?

My heart.

And why do I give it so freely?

Because he’s already given me his.

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MY REVIEW – 4 1/2 stars

Orc’s Toy has everything I love in a fantasy romance… action, adventure, battles, and of course love.

Anna would do anything to protect the other human women, even sacrifice her own happiness to ensure their safety. Good thing she meets an orc who will keep her safe without caging her, and will do his best to meet her every need. If there’s one thing he wants most, it’s Anna’s love.

There were a few scenes some readers might consider dark. They were handled in such a way it wasn’t difficult to read them. I loved the characters and hope we’ll see more of these orcs soon.

If you want a quick read with big, sexy orcs, steamy scenes, and a happily ever after, Orc’s Toy is an engaging read that will leave you hungry for more.

*Disclaimer: I received a free copy via Booksprout in exchange for an honest review. The review above is only my opinion.

Book Tour: Demon Riding Shotgun by L.R. Braden #urbanfantasy @LaurenRBraden

Demon Riding Shotgun

by L.R. Braden

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Possessed by a demon since she was eleven years old, Mira Fuentes maintains a fragile alliance with the snarky soul who shares her body. Together they hunt down unstable Rifters– demon-controlled humans bent on causing chaos in the mortal realm. But when a routine hunt leads to a powerful Rifter with plans for Baltimore, Mira quickly finds herself in over her head and at the top of the city’s Most Wanted.

Recently retired from the PTF after losing his partner, Ty Williams now works for the Baltimore PD and keeps his distance from cases involving magic. But when a person dies of clearly magical causes and the PTF doesn’t have any agents to spare, Ty is the closest thing the department has to an expert. Saddled with a new partner he doesn’t want and a mountain of self-doubt, it’s his job to track down a suspect who looks suspiciously like the one-night-stand he brought home from the bar last night.

Mira will have to set her trust issues aside and enlist the help of a man determined to uncover her secrets if she hopes to learn the identity of the demon’s host and prevent the human race from becoming meat puppets for the denizens of the Rift.

On COURTING DARKNESS: “This book was a fantastic second installment to the Magicsmith series… Truly brilliant writing!”–Richelle Rodarte, NetGalley Reviewer

“The plot was engrossing, fascinating and action-filled.”–Pam Guynn, NetGalley Reviewer on Faerie Forged

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Want more magic, mystery, and mayhem?
CHECK OUT THE AWARD-WINNING MAGICSMITH SERIES

**A Drop of Magic (Book 1) is On Sale for Only .99 cents!**

***Courting Darkness (Book 2) in On Sale For Only 2.99!!***

L.R. Braden is the bestselling author of the Magicsmith urban fantasy series, the standalone novel Demon Riding Shotgun, and several works of short fiction. Her writing has won the Eric Hoffer Book Award for Sci-fi/Fantasy, the First Horizon Award for debut authors, and the Imadjinn Award for Best Urban Fantasy (twice). She was also honored to be a finalist for the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers 2021 Writer of the Year award. She and her family live in the foothills of the Colorado Rockies, where she spends her time writing, playing, and weaving metal into intricate chain mail jewelry that she sells in her Etsy shop.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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BOOK REVIEW: Bad Kitty (Cat McKenzie) by Lauren Dawes #paranormalromance #urbanfantasy @authorldawes

A rookie cop. A team of supernatural detectives. A vigilante kitty shifter breaking bad.  

My name is Cat McKenzie, and despite what people might think, I don’t enjoy being chased down darkened streets at night by a ten-foot shadow man who can literally make me die of fright.

Of course, that’s how all this started—the discovery of an underground fight club stocked completely with supernatural slaves. 

The plot thickens when seemingly unlinked murders start to form a pattern I begin to recognize. 

A supernatural fight club, possessed berserkers and an accidental enslavement, I’m pretty sure I’m getting Punk’d by life right now and I’d like to call cut on this scene. 

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MY REVIEW – 5 stars

This one started a little slower for me but once the supernatural action really kicked in, I couldn’t stop reading. Another fabulous addition to the series… but I’m left with a few questions. I really hope the series isn’t over. I need answers about the Gray Man, and more adventures with Cat and Sawyer. I loved seeing the variety of supernaturals in this one. Minotaurs, banshees, vampires, and more … an action-packed, steamy read that left me eager to read another and another and another… you get the picture.

*Disclaimer: The review above is only my opinion. The author did not request a review. I purchase a copy of the book from Amazon.

Cover Reveal: Insidious Scars by Natalie J. Reddy #YoungAdult #urbanfantasy @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours

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How gorgeous is this cover? I’m thrilled to share the cover for Insidious Scars by Natalie J. Reddy! Coming next Spring!

eBook -Insidious Scars

Insidious Scars

Expected Publication Date: Spring 2021

Genre: YA Urban Fantasy/ Paranormal Romance

This is what she’s been training for…

Jyoti has felt like an outcast all her life. Living among Psi with extraordinary power can be isolating and dangerous when you have no power of your own. But in weakness there is strength, a strength Jyoti’s mother has been training her to use to her advantage. When rumors of war begin circulating, Jyoti is offered an opportunity to help protect her people. However, it would mean giving up what she loves most. But when she finds out about a weapon that could cause the destruction of all mankind, she begins to question everything, even her own heart.

What do you do when protecting the greater good means you’ll lose everything you love?

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About the Author

1409-2019-083811046472874711683

Natalie J. Reddy is a Canadian Author who spends her days trying to escape reality by making up stories about the characters in her head.

Natalie realized at an early age that she had a passion for storytelling and that passion followed her into adulthood. There is nothing she loves more than to be pulled into a fictional world whether it’s in her own writing or the writing of others. Natalie is the author of the Scar of Days Forgotten series, a New Adult Urban Fantasy series with characters who have supernatural abilities and dark and sometimes unknown pasts to overcome.

When she’s not writing, Natalie can be found having all sorts of real-life adventures with her husband and daughter or curled up with a good book and a cup of tea.

To keep up to date on upcoming books, subscribe to Natalie’s newsletter at nataliejreddy.com

Natalie J. Reddy | Instagram | Facebook | Goodreads

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New at Changeling Press: The Difference Between by Stephanie Burk #orcs #fantasyromance #gay @FlashyCat

Rotic, a human boy, was a slave when High Orc Chieftain Vizri first rescued him. Now, as Vizri’s adopted son, Rotic has become a renowned warrior and leader of the Orc Army. Rotic is confused when he’s gifted with a male consort, but he knows he has earned his place in life, and he has full confidence nothing will ever take his power and position away from him.

Ogun is used and broken when he’s brought to the castle of the High Orc Chieftain as tribute — actually a sly insult — by the underhanded Dark Elves. When Ogun is named Consort and meets Rotic, his new partner, he finds himself lost in a whole new way of life before the sun has set. He has a new position and a growing relationship with Rotic. Nothing could ever ruin this for Ogun.

But with treacherous humans threatening the Orc Nation, magical and cultural landmines to traverse, and a new wife added to the mix, Ogun and Rotic’s lives are changing faster than they can blink. Ogun and Rotic have to learn to adjust and overcome before the differences between them become an insurmountable mountain that will destroy them both.

Publisher’s Note: The Difference Between was published previously by another house and has been extensively edited for re-release.

Save 15% at Changeling Press

Preorder at retailers for November 29th

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Stephanie Burke

The tent flap ripped open with surprising easy. But then, Vizri didn’t expect much from human beings on the whole. The dim light in the tent did nothing to hamper his vision, as Orc eyes were designed to be useful in the dark tunnels that spawned their ancestors as well as the bright sunlight in which the multitudes of humans dwelt.

The first impression? Humanity smelled. Even before he entered the tent the smell of sour milk and salt filled his nostrils, making him snort as he curled his nose in disgust. The place also smelled of human sex and excrement. It was nearly enough to make his eyes water.

It was a good thing his eyes adjusted so quickly, because almost as soon as he stepped foot inside the hide monstrosity the humans decided to call a domicile, he had to duck to the right as a pale blur flew at him from out of nowhere. He shifted his weight and reached behind him, gripping the shaft of his great-ax, but something, some odd instinct, made him stay his hand.

Unlike the confusing humans, Orcs always followed their instincts. He might be reluctant to swing but he was no fool. And an Orc who was always prepared for the worst was an Orc that lived to languish in the care of his wives. So he gripped the handle of the great weapon strapped to his back and he tracked the blur with his eyes.

It was a human, a small one. At least it looked — he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring, and nodded. Indeed, it was human, small… wounded, fearful, and furious at the same time. Interesting.

He was deciding if he should just put it out of its misery when it turned and snarled at him. He could not stop his brow-hair from rising as he stared at the pitiful creature. Although it never showed in his expression, the actions of this small wretch… delighted him. This small thing behaved in a most appropriate alpha-type manner. It was refreshing and confusing to see proper behavior out of a human, especially one so small and wounded.

It looked underfed and wild as it glared at him, its chest heaving as its eyes tracked rapidly around the room, looking for an escape route while keeping him firmly in view. He tilted his head to the side and relaxed his stance as the small human snarled again.

There was a table between him and the human, so he decided he had time to test a theory that had been raging along the lower courts of his chiefdom for years. Were humans truly intelligent beings, capable of instinctual thought and the ability to act properly on those impulses, or were they just the Elder Gods’ evolutionary joke?

He moved forward and unclasped a human weapon, a well made great sword, from his side. He had meant to bring it as a present to one of his wives who loved cute little trinkets like this one, but now it would do well to serve another purpose.

If the small human could pass his test, he would not put it out of its misery. If it actually reacted in the correct manner, then he might take it home as a pet and spare its life. One of his thirty-seven wives might like an intelligent toy to fetch and carry, if they could get past the smell.

He lay the sword on the table and stepped back to gage the creature’s reaction. When it just stood there, glaring at him, eyes still darting around the tent, he reached into another pouch at his side and withdrew a small jeweled dagger. He had taken it from the treasury the human in charge of this ramshackle village had acquired and unlike the worthless gold and other somewhat more useful jewels, he thought it could be bent and pounded into something like a bit of jewelry for one of his wives or for his newest consort. He moved forward and laid it on the table as well.

Still the small creature didn’t move, but its eyes were darting back and forth between him and the weapons, its scowl growing deeper.

Finally, Vizri unwound a heavy steel bolo from around his waist, a very important weapon in Orcish warfare, dropping that beside the dagger before he again stepped back. There. He had given the creature three options. He would wait and see if it was intelligent enough to realize he had given it a choice.

As he waited, he examined the pitiful thing, noting the many and varied differences between humans and Orc. It had none of the advantages that nature had blessed the Orc with for survival, which led many species to speculate that humans really were nature’s big joke.

It had thin skin, through which he could see its red blood pumping through its veins. Its ears were rounded and placed on the side of its head, not sharply arched and placed on top so that they could swerve and easily pick up the sounds of enemies approaching or sneaking around from behind. It had no claws for defense, no horns for intimidation, and worse of all, it had no protruding lower tusks. How could it properly mate if it could not gore its female into ecstasy?

Humans were a strange breed that had somehow managed to grab a foothold in the Orc territory.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

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

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

New from Changeling Press: Dragon’s Egg by Lena Austin #gay #fantasyromance @Lena_Austin

Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea

Ever wondered what happens when Jackie grows up?

Jack Draper’s an orphan, with what he’s always thought of as a very active imagination — until he discovers the dragon from his childhood memories is real. Worse, he’s the son of the usurper king of Honalee and the Red Sorceress — which means Jack is a wizard himself! Now Jack has to go to wizard school…

Could life get more confusing than being a modern day gay man who suddenly becomes a wizard/dragonrider — and heir to the throne his father didn’t earn? In a word — Yes.

Publisher’s Note: Dragon’s Egg (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Dragon’s Egg, Dragon’s Stone, and Dragon’s Quest.

Get the Paperback at Amazon

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Lena Austin
Excerpt from 
Dragon’s Egg

Jack stood. He wanted Puff as much as the dragon wanted him, insanely enough. He cast about for a way to put Puff at ease. “The tea is undoubtedly ready. Are you warm enough?”

Puff raised a sardonic eyebrow, and his voice was heavy with irony. “Yes, I believe I am, if you refer to my body temperature.” He squared his shoulders. “Yes, tea would be lovely.”

Jack reached for the steaming kettle, but Puff batted his hand away. “You can’t take the heat. Allow me.”

Jack appreciated the double entendres flying back and forth between them. “I can so take the heat, but I’ll allow you the privilege of being in charge, at least this time.”

His drawled words had the desired effect. Puff shot him an unfocused look, and turned back to lift the hot kettle with his bare hands. He poured the tea into the cups with studious care. “So you say.”

Jack picked up his cup and matched the dragon’s ironic smile. “Indeed I do.” He limped with deliberate steps to the dragon’s stone pedestal and sat on the edge. He knew he now sat on Puff’s bed wearing nothing but a pair of pants. He hoped the silent invitation was clear.

Puff gave Jack an opaque look. The only sound was the faint rush of the sea, the tinkle of the waterfall in the basin, and the hum between them that was purely mental. Puff’s eyes narrowed. “Stop teasing, Jackie. It’s not nice.”

Knowing Puff could not possibly see facial expressions over the dimly lit distance between them, Jack snorted. “You seem to think I am. I’m not. Are you going to take me up on the invitation, or will you force me to be crude and blunt?”

One elegant silver and black eyebrow lifted toward Puff’s hairline. “Yes. I want you to be crude and blunt. Tell me what you want, Jackie.”

Jack sighed, making it deliberately loud. “Very well. One, could you manage to call me Jack? I’ve not been called Jackie since I left.”

Puff sipped his tea. “I think I can manage that. Now that you’re a fully grown man, can you manage my real name of Aneurin?”

Jack choked back laughter. “I can indeed, Aneurin. It fits you better, to call you the Welsh name for gold. Your golden eyes haunted my dreams for many a night.”

The dragon put the cup down with deliberate care. “You’ve been dreaming of me?”

Jack took a sip of his tea, slurping deliberately. “Yes. Dreams of you and I making love, right here on this great bloody bed of yours.”

Puff-Aneurin stared at the floor. “And you don’t mind this dream?”

“At first, I minded. Only in that I didn’t think it was right to be making love with a character from a children’s song.”

Puff chuckled. “Should have never gone to the pub and had a few pints. Told some idiot songster while I was in my cups, but retained enough sense to make it a tale.” He shrugged. “Didn’t expect the song to cross the pond.”

“Puff, er, Aneurin… sorry. That song was sung in the 1960’s before I was born.” It had always bugged him that the song was older than he by nearly a decade.

“Oh. That. I went back in time to find some good ale, not that watered down piss they sell these days. I’ve heard in America they sell it cold, much to my horror.” Aneurin grinned at his dig on Jack’s adopted home.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

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

New at Changeling Press: The Witch and the Dreamwalker by Victoria Rogers #urbanfantasy #paranormalromance @MimiMerlot

It’s 1982, and rising star Vivian McKinley is determined to climb the corporate ladder of a growing paranormal security firm. With the help of Xavier Prince, President and CEO of Prince Charms, Vivian uncovers a plot to take over the business. The pair navigate office politics and machinations to prove a psychic vampire’s treachery.

Get it at Changeling Press and save 15%!

Preorder at online booksellers for November 5th

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Victoria Rogers

“Here, you look like you need one of these.” Jenny thrust a shot glass into Vivian’s hand.

Vivian shook her head, “No. Thank you. This is work.” She passed the glass back to Jenny.

Jenny made a face. “Vivian, dear, this is a party. Work ended the moment you stepped foot into this ballroom.”

“Not true. This is work. Everyone here is networking. Besides, I was just talking business with Xavier.”

Jenny’s brows shot upward. “First name basis, are we? Not Mr. Prince? At any rate,” she said, not giving Vivian the chance to answer the question, “look around. People are here to attend a party. The bar is already on its fourth bottle of whiskey.”

Vivian ignored her. “I’ve been promoted, Jenny. I’m now head of R and D!”

“What? Congratulations! That’s so exciting! Wait! That means you’re my boss? Holy shit, Vivian! I’ve never had a woman boss before. You get it, Viv. Make these men quake in their shoes. You’ve got to do a tequila shot with me, then.”

“Tequila? You want me to be sick? No, thank you. I’m fine. I should talk to John. Have you seen him?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s at the bar talking to Drew from sales.”

“Thank you,” Vivian replied.

“I will get you to do a shot before the night is out.”

“No. You won’t,” Vivian called over her shoulder.

* * *

John was exactly where Jenny said he was — at the bar enjoying a glass of cognac with Drew from sales.

“Vivian!” John bellowed, waving her over. “Saw you talking to Mr. Prince. Has he taken my advice?”

Vivian grinned. “If your advice was to have me take up the mantle, then yes. Yes! By the gods, John. I don’t know what to say. I haven’t had time to process this yet.”

John beamed and took her hand and patted it lightly. “I’m proud of you, Vivian. You’re going to go far. You’d be wasted in that shop, peddling basic charms.”

“I wouldn’t call my grandmother’s charms basic. She taught me all I know. She’d have a few choice words to say to you if she heard that!”

“I stand corrected.” He chuckled, belly bouncing with each percussive breath. “Drew, have you met Vivian? She’s now the head of R and D.”

The salesman laughed at first, but when John didn’t laugh in response he quickly sobered. “What? Where are you going, John? Is Simeon finally retiring?”

John shook his head. “No. I’m retiring, Drew. It’s time I spent more time with the grandkids.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve got a few years yet.”

“No, no. It’s time to go home. I can’t compete with these kids anymore. Vivian’s ward is one hell of a piece of work. I would never have been able to dream that up.”

“The psychic vamp ward? The one I’ve got people lining up to order? That was you?” he asked while looking at her, mouth agape.

John snorted. “Of course, it was her, she gave the presentation, didn’t she?”

“I thought… I thought she gave the presentation to…”

Vivian arched a brow. “To what, exactly?”

“You know, to, to sell –”

“She’s goading you, Drew. And I’d stop with that thought right now. Vivian here knows her stuff, and she’s going to put Prince Charms on the global map.”

Vivian could hear the clack of Drew’s teeth as he snapped his mouth shut.

“I think a drink is in order, don’t you?” John turned toward the bartender. “Three bourbon, neat.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s –”

“Nonsense. This is a party, and if you’re going to hang with the old boys you have to play by their rules. Here, have a cigar.”

Vivian stared at the offered stogie.

“Might as well join us in smoking them. You’re going to be stuck in smoky rooms and end up smoking them anyway. It’s better firsthand.”

Vivian wasn’t sure she followed John’s logic on that one, but she reached out for the cigar anyway.

“That’s my girl. Now, here, you cut them like this.” He snipped the end of the cigar with a gold-plated cutter he pulled from his pocket. “And let me get that for you,” he said, flicking open his matching lighter.

She didn’t cough. She knew enough from her father that you didn’t actually inhale a cigar, unlike a cigarette.

John grinned as she exhaled like a professional. “Now.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Time for bourbon.” He passed both her and Drew a glass and then held his aloft. “To Vivian, who’s going to shake the paranormal world so hard it won’t know what happened.”

Vivian expected everyone to sip their drink, but no, down their gullets the amber liquid went. She tried not to gag at the flavor. A whiskey lover she was not.

“It’ll grow on you,” John said with a thump on her back as if reading her mind. “Bartender! Another round.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Victoria Rogers is an award-winning podcaster, game designer, and storyteller known for their immersive worlds and strong female characters.

Witches, warlocks, gods, and spirits fill their dreams and stories. Consent and healthy communication are two major aspects of their work – after all, you can’t have what you want unless you ask for it.

Victoria can be found in the garden and in the kitchen making fruit wines, brewing beers, and infusing spirits. When not feeding friends, they attend tabletop gaming conventions and sit on storytelling and world-building panels, teach about online marketing, and produce live events.