Dire Wolves (Box Set) by Cynthia Sax, Lena Austin, and Shelby Morgen #boxset #PNR #BBW #interracial #werewolves #shifters #vampires #LGBTbooks @changelingpress @CynthiaSax @Lena_Austin

Dire Wolves (Box Set) (Dire Wolves Multi-Author 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Blind Spot by Cynthia Sax: Years ago, Pavel lost his eye, three members of his pack and his position as alpha. Can Maggy help him find a reason to live again?

Whiteout by Shelby Morgen: Zan gives John a reason to want to live as a man again. But before he can make that kind of promise, he’s got unfinished business to take care of.

Silence by Lena Austin: Noel Miller, a vampire with a few scars of his own, wants to be more than Cam’s sign language interpreter. If only the werewolf will let him into his life — and heart.

White Heat by Shelby Morgen: Heather Grant’s got far too much experience working with stubborn males. She figures it would serve both Alphas right if their pride blows their cover. But someone’s got to salvage the mission.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for August 9th at:

   

 

PRAISE FOR DIRE WOLVES BOX SET

“…a collection that grabs the reader, takes them on a journey, and ensures some cold showers. Erotic, captivating, and deliciously carnal are how I would describe The Dire Wolves Anthology. It is definitely worth reading, worth adding to one’s reading library, and well worth re-reading.”

— 4 Stars from Nikki, Sensuous Reviews
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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019
Excerpt from Silence by Lena Austin

“Danse Macabre” was a lousy choice for a ring tone, but Detective Cameron Douglas always thought about it when he had the least amount of time to change the ring to something else. The tune was the last he’d ever hear. Cam didn’t know that sad fact, or he’d have changed the ring sooner.

Cam snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open as soon as he saw it was his boss, Lt. Kraynak. “Hey, Mark! You caught me just leaving the mayor’s office.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s voice always sounded nervous, but at that moment, he sounded as squeaky as a girl. Cam always wondered if Mark was as closet gay as Cam himself. “How’d it go?”

Cam sighed. The investigation into the death of the mayor’s secretary, Margaret Lund, was supposed to be kept very quiet and low-key. “We got the blood from her apartment at the lab, looking for DNA. They seem to be consistent with the defensive marks found on her body despite floating around in the St. John’s River for a while. I’ve got a few good leads.” He had to be vague. Cam couldn’t exactly tell his boss he was a werewolf and he’d caught an odd, masculine scent in Margaret’s apartment. He knew any sort of masculine odor didn’t belong in that apartment because Margaret and his mother had been lovers for over twenty years. Not exactly what you want the whole world to know. Mom had been in the closet all her life, and he wasn’t about to out her when she was mourning “Aunt Maggie’s” death. Dad would turn over in his grave, the day care she’d run for fifteen years would close, and her life would be in ruins. What she and Maggie had enjoyed just wasn’t ever going to be public, and that wasn’t admissible evidence anyway.

He could see it now. Him, on the witness stand. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m a werewolf you see, and I sniffed this odor…” He winced, even to himself.

“I don’t like it, Cam. You shouldn’t be on this case. Ms. Lund was your mother’s best friend. You could be called prejudiced in court.” Mark popped another gumball in his mouth. Cam heard it rattle against his teeth before it crackled as he chewed it into oblivion. Mark’d been trying to quit smoking again, and kept a gumball bank on his desk.

“I don’t like it, either, Mark. Where His Honor got the idea I’d be the only detective who could do the job is beyond me.” Cam was in sight of his car at last. The covered parking garage across the street from City Hall was a piece of shit like all the rest of downtown. Half the security cameras didn’t work at the best of times, and the roof leaked whenever it rained. So where was he parked? On the roof. In the rain. Of course. So he was wet. It was Florida. Not like he would melt. He was a werewolf, not a witch, and this wasn’t Hollyweird.

The beep in his ear made him jump, and the caller ID told him it was Mom. “Hey, I’m at my car. Hang on a sec.” Cam flipped over to his mother’s call and sat down on a bench about fifty feet from his car, in the shelter covering the elevator. “Hi, Mom.” He frowned and noticed the hood of his car was slightly ajar. That was odd. He distinctly remembered changing the oil the previous Sunday and slamming the hood closed because he hated working in the hot sun.

He never heard her answer. Hell, he never heard anything except the biggest boom on the planet.

Waking up wasn’t like someone flipped on a light switch. It was more like a lazy Sunday morning when you didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything in particular, so you could roll over and laze in bed. That is, until your bladder or some other bodily need woke you up.

What woke him up was pain. Cam had the worst headache ever, even beyond hangovers and mild concussions from playing rugby. Cam felt like he’d been run over by a semi, too, with a backache from lying in one position too long on top of assorted injuries. Worst of all was the ringing in his ears. Tinnitus, he guessed. Not bad, since Cam had to assume he’d survived that explosion. Hell, he counted himself lucky when he opened his eyes and saw his left leg in bandages, not a cast. If a headache, a bum leg, and a case of tinnitus were all he had to suffer through, Cam was happy.

A nurse peeked in. She saw Cam was awake and smiled at him. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears. She frowned when Cam told her she’d have to speak up, and would she bring him something for the headache and tinnitus? She turned around and walked out without another word. She was back with something she shot into his IV. Whatever it was put him out like a light. Pain, tinnitus, and consciousness all went away at once.

When next Cam could put two words together in a coherent sentence, the clock on the wall and the darkness out the window gave him a clue it was 7:30 PM, not AM. He’d slept away the whole day. Great. Now his ears were sore.

A young man in a lab coat read a book in the corner chair, even though the only light source was the fluorescent above the head of Cam’s bed. The guy’s eyesight must have been superlative. He looked up slowly, and Cam was completely arrested — pardon the pun — by his eyes. They were big, blue and so world-weary Cam wanted to — maybe buy the kid a cup of coffee and give him a sympathetic ear. Then the newcomer smiled, and the world was all sunshine and cheer. The young man tapped on the keyboard of his laptop without taking his gaze off Cam’s face.

Cam moved restlessly under that intense blue gaze that did not in the least match with the smile. Cam opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when the screen on a laptop left on his lap table brightened. He frowned and studied the screen. “Can you read this?” Surprised, Cam nodded without thinking.

The blue-eyed man smiled and nodded. “Good. How’s your tinnitus?” lit up on the screen in a standard IM chat feature of a common website.

“Um… should I answer aloud?” Cam felt suddenly adrift in a strange sea, unsure of himself for the first time since college. Still, he did an internal check, and the buzzing still filled his ears like a thousand crickets on speed. “Yep, still have the crickets.” The realization hit him. “The explosion caused this tinnitus, didn’t it?”

“Yes, Mr. Douglas. Please speak more softly.” The IM kept up easily, and the young man’s hands flew silently but rapidly over the tiny keyboard. Damn, this guy was good.

Oops. Cam wasn’t stupid. He knew that those with hearing issues often spoke too loudly, trying to over-compensate for their loss. He modified his volume. “Um. Sorry.” He clung to the thin thread of hope that the tinnitus was causing his hearing loss, but he knew a bunch of cops who’d neglected ear protection at the shooting range once too often. Tinnitus could be permanent, or worse, the symptom of something much, much worse.

The IM lit up with several lines in rapid succession. “My name is Noel Miller, and I am your ENT therapist.” Now the cheer was gone, and the face serious.

Cam’s heart hammered, and he swallowed to help his suddenly dry mouth. Fear, ice-cold and cruel, raced up his spine. Part of him was grateful he still had painkillers in his system. Deep inside himself, a little kid threw a major temper tantrum, even if he held himself rigidly under control. “I’m deaf, aren’t I?”

 

More from Lena at Changeling Press…

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? See all her books at http://www.LenaAustin.com.

More from Cynthia at Changeling Press…

Some girls dreamed of knights in shining armor. Cynthia Sax dreamed of dragons, magnificent flying dragons. Being a bloodthirsty little thing, Cynthia usually dreamed of these dragons eating the damsels in distress. Now, she dreams of them doing… ahhh… more pleasurable things.

Cynthia is happily married. Although her hubby has not yet shown any shapeshifting abilities, he does buy her medieval princess costumes to wear around the house. Cynthia’s rather traditional mother-in-law now always calls before visiting. You can learn more about Cynthia by visiting her website at www.CynthiaSax.com, her blog at http://tasteofcyn.com, or email her directly at Cynthia@CynthiaSax.com.

More from Shelby at Changeling Press…

Shelby Morgen loves writing offbeat tales that defy as many rules as possible.

She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, suspense with her romance, and kink with her sex, and she’s always had a hard time keeping science fiction, fantasy and paranormal from mixing with her kink.

Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her longtime friend and partner, Bill, her husband of nearly four decades.

 

 

Freeing Their Mistress by Audra Hart #MFM #Paranormal #BDSM #Ménage #Romance #Shifters #Vampires #Mystery #Suspense #Series @Audra_Hart_PNR ‏

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Freeing Their Mistress

A Raven’s Keep Novel

By Audra Hart

 

BLURB

One Woman’s Journey of Self-Discovery and Deliverance

Seeking financial salvation in a lucrative job at a paranormal BDSM club exposes Sadie to a whole new world. She’s at risk of baring her own supernatural secrets, but her back is against the wall. Desperate after her double dealing, low-down, ex-husband left her with a mountain of his debt and an ‘autistic’ son to provide for.

This forty year old, single mom is immediately drawn to the dark and mysterious Masters of Raven’s Keep, a sadistic vampire and voyeuristic spell weaver, but she stubbornly refuses to succumb to their otherworldly magnetism, despite the fact she’s found love and acceptance in their world.

Will Sadie embrace Fate’s plan for her and Masters Anton and Roi or will she use those sexy, Come-F*ck-Me heels to stubbornly walk away from it all?

PURCHASE HERE

Exclusively on Amazon and available in Kindle Unlimited
Universal Amazon link: https://mybook.to/FreeingTheirMistress

 

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About the Author

Audra is a long time resident of the great state of Oklahoma. This fifty-something widow, Mom and Nana has been gifted with a naughty imagination and a driving need to create and share fantastical paranormal tales of action, suspense, adventure, and enough sexy romance to make your kindle sizzle in appreciation.

You can find Audra at these social media sites:

FB page: https://www.facebook.com/AudraHartWritesRomance/

Amazon page: http://viewauthor.at/AudraHart

Audra’s Website: https://audrahart.com

Audra on Twitter: https://twitter.com/Audra_Hart_PNR

Find out more about the exciting multi-author series, the TULSA IMMORTALS here:

Tulsa Immortals FB Page: https://www.facebook.com/TulsaImmortalsMagickalUniverse

Tulsa Immortals Page on Amazon: http://author.to/TulsaImmortals

 

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Demon’s Grotto by Kate Hill #PNR #DarkDesire #Vampires #Shifters @chagnelingpress @katehillromance

Demon’s Grotto, where monsters sate their lust. Will you spend the night?

 

Demon's Grotto (Demon's Grotto 1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Dark Fantasy, Dark Desire, Shapeshifters,
Vampires, Werewolves

 

Ben wants Laura to reconsider staying overnight at Demon’s Grotto, and he has information about the club’s history that should convince her. He tells her three creepy love stories, hoping she will change her mind.

Rise of the Creature: When a mad doctor brings a dead man back to life, only his beautiful assistant can make that life worth living.

The Demon Within: A man on the run stops to rest at a rooming house, not knowing that it’s the hunting ground of a gorgeous succubus bent on devouring handsome guests.

Don’t Cry, Wolf: An ad for a maintenance man at a bed and breakfast is answered by a former soldier who’s harboring a hairy secret. The business’s lovely co-owner becomes involved with this sullen hunk who’s more than she imagined possible.

After hearing these stories of love and murder, will Laura decide to spend the night at Demon’s Grotto?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Kate Hill

Despite the cold, misty night, Laura felt optimistic and excited, like she did whenever she was about to start a great story. Demon’s Grotto, the new club that had opened in a very old building, would be an amazing topic for an article. She’d already heard good things about the club. The name itself was an attention grabber, and the place seemed to deserve that dark, dangerous label.

She’d heard rumors that it was haunted. Staff and customers alike had seen, heard, and even felt a lot of strange things since the place opened. With her keen interest in the supernatural, Laura couldn’t wait to get to work. She didn’t think ghosts, demons, and werewolves were real, but she liked to fantasize and she also knew that many people liked to believe. In all her years of writing about paranormal creatures, she had never actually met one and doubted she ever would. Like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster, some things were meant only for entertainment. After all, you can’t find proof of something that doesn’t exist. Yet her job wasn’t to prove anything. She was just here to tell an enticing story.

Pausing outside the club, she gazed up at the old building that had once been a rich family’s mansion. The current owners had kept the old style, even through renovations. The ornate building was stained sable. The front door was black with red lettering that stated the club’s name and hours.

Laura was about to step inside when a man of average height wearing a wrinkled gray suit approached. He had thick black hair, a square jaw, and rich brown eyes that had an almost haunted expression.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re Laura, right?”

“Yeah. Do I know you?”

“You called the owner about coming here to write a story about the place.”

“Yes. Do you work here?”

“Sure. Yeah. When I heard you wanted to spend the night here to write your story, I knew I had to talk to you first.”

“Why? Do you mind if I take notes?”

“No. Go ahead.”

“What’s your name, by the way?”

“Ben.”

“And what do you do here, Ben?”

“I’m the maintenance guy.”

“Oh. So you must know all about the building.”

“More than I ever wanted to.”

“So why did you want to talk to me, Ben?”

“See that coffee shop across the street? Can we go there?”

“Why don’t we just go in the club?”

Ben’s dark eyes shifted toward the door. He shook his head. “No, Laura. I don’t feel like I can speak freely in there. If I’m going to tell you everything I know, it can’t be within those walls.” For the first time he truly nabbed her interest.

“Okay. Sure. We can go to the coffee shop,” she said, adjusting the strap of her laptop case more comfortably on her shoulder.

He headed to the coffee shop, and Laura followed. It had started raining harder, and when they stepped inside, they were both soaked. After ordering, they took their drinks to a table near the window.

From there, they had a clear view of Demon’s Grotto. A couple of people went in, and a few others came out. It seemed like a normal club. “That place has been bad news since the time it was built,” Ben said, breaking her thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“It was built in the early 1800s by the Damp family. Frederick Damp brought his wife and four kids over from England. Within two years of moving into the house, three kids and his wife died. One son, Raymond, survived. He married and had twin girls. When they were sixteen, one twin went crazy and killed the other. She was committed to an asylum and died there a couple of years later.”

Laura curled her lip. “That’s terrible.”

“It doesn’t get any better. Before they were killed in a carriage accident, Raymond and his wife had another child, a son, Martin. He married, but poisoned his wife, and then he drank the same poison himself. They had one child, Cyril, and this is where the story really gets strange.”

Laura chuckled. “Stranger than that?”

Ben didn’t return her smile, but stared at her with those dark, haunted eyes. “Much stranger than that.”

Blood Oath by Kira Stone #vampires #PNR #NewRelease #GayRomance @changelingpress

 

Unexpected consequences arise when a new
Vampire Lord is selected to endure the Blood Oath…

 

Blood Oath (Vampire Magic 5)

 

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Renee George
Genres/Themes: Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Dark Desire,
Gay, Interracial, Vampires

 

In Taggert’s Bend, the vampires love to hate the magical tricksters, and the witches hate to love the unnatural beasts. So, to keep the feuding to a minimum, the blood drinkers refrain from dining on the magicians as long as the gifted spellcasters occasionally share with them a fraction of their natural charms.

Blending the essence of the natural and unnatural has unexpected consequences when a new Vampire Lord is selected to endure the Blood Oath. Each attempt to successfully conclude the Oath only creates more chaos. Will these powerful enemies conclude the spell before an evil they fear more than each other consumes them all?

Publisher’s Note: This collection contains the previously published novellas Blood PriceBlood MagicA Marked Man, andBlood Oath.

 

Get it at Changeling Press

also available in paperback

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Kira Stone
Excerpt from Blood Magic

Lord Rainer Allen surveyed the action in the steam room. Naked, writhing bodies adorned almost every surface, perhaps twenty in total. Any one of them could be his sex partner. All he had to do was beckon, and they’d come running. Just thinking about it made him hard.

That’s where he had to stop. At thinking about it. To act on his urges would be foolish in the extreme.

Kassian nudged him with a toe. “See anything you like?” The vampire lay on his side, one leg bent up to give Rainer a good look at his nine-inch cock as he stroked it to fullness.

“Nothing I’m dying to have.” Rainer preferred men to women. He’d made no secret of it, but his openness sometimes worked against him. Kassian had been trying to seduce him since he’d transferred in from Eastern Europe. Seventy-four years was one heck of a long time to continually reject a very tempting offer.

“Liar.”

“I’d be using them, and possibly hurting them in the process. They deserve better treatment than that.”

“Use me. I don’t mind a little pain.”

Sebastian’s arrival prevented Rainer from having to answer. The blond perched on the stone bench next to his husky lover. “I see you started without me.” He took over the stroking.

Kassian put his hands behind his head and interlaced his fingers, his eyes on Rainer as Sebastian turned putty into stone. “What took you so long?”

“Door alarm went off.” Sebastian kissed the inside of his lover’s knee.

Rainer watched the landscape of the black leather stretched across the blond’s lap change from a plateau to a mountain peak. Kassian alone was dangerous enough to Rainer’s self-control. When joined by his rough and ready live-in lover, the combination was kryptonite against his inner strength. Each time it got harder to resist their enticement. Tonight he might be foolish enough, and desperate enough, to take them up on it.

Hoping there was a crisis brewing so he’d have an excuse to dodge them a few more hours, Rainer asked, “Problem?”

“No, just a neophyte who couldn’t tell his ass from a hole in the wall. He’s so fresh out of the grave he still triggered the mortal buzzer.”

Kassian lowered the zipper of Sebastian’s pants, exposing a long white column of rigid flesh. “You should’ve taken the time to show him around. Maybe by then I’d have had Rani talked into fucking us.”

Rainer stiffened in more ways than one. “No. Not going to happen. End of subject.” His denial probably would have carried more weight if he hadn’t been drooling over the sight of Seb’s cleanly shaven balls. Kass was one lucky vamp to have such a fine lover in his bed every night.

Sebastian knelt beside Rainer, brushing against his arm. Rainer closed his eyes, both fearing and desperately eager for whatever the young vampire would do next.

A velvet soft caress of his nipple sent a shaft of heat to his groin. Again and again, the head of Seb’s cock rubbed over his sensitive nubbin. Rainer sat on the stone bench, boneless, and let him toy with danger.

“Let us fuck you, Rainer. We know how to take care of you. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“No.” But the word meant nothing. Even as he spoke, his traitorous hand was gliding up the back of Sebastian’s thigh. He grabbed the blond’s firm, rounded buttock and guided him into a faster rhythm as the youthful vamp continued to fuck Rainer’s masculine tit. Such a little thing, but it was more than he’d permitted any other being to do in a long, long time. It felt so good.

And it was, oh, so wrong.

Rainer pushed Sebastian away. “Stop. No more.”

Kassian approached from the other side. He cupped Rainer’s straining shaft. Just holding it in his cool fist. Rainer fought against the strong urge to thrust through it as Kass said, “Trust us. Seb did some research on the Blood Oath and its effect on Vampire Lords. He has it all figured out.”

“Something’ll go wrong,” Rainer protested. “It always does.”

“We know the risks and accept them.”

Sebastian scooped Rainer’s black hair away from his neck, exposing his throat. He placed dry kisses along the cords of muscle he found there.

Danger!

No shit. Rainer didn’t need his inner guard dog to warn him of impending doom. If they pressed on, someone was going to get hurt. His friends might accept the risks, but he couldn’t. He refused to endanger them just because he was tired of his hand being the only one to jerk him off.

“Enough, guys. Stop. I mean it.” Rainer stood up, moving out of their range. He looked ridiculous given the way his erect penis jutted out. Nothing he could do about that here.

Kassian swore in a language so old that very few who heard the words would be able to translate them. “You’re a coward, Rani. I really thought you had bigger balls.”

Sebastian, equally frustrated, drummed his heels against the stone bench. “You don’t trust us.”

Seb had it wrong. It was the beast inside himself that Rainer didn’t trust. The Blood Oath he’d taken upon becoming a lord was both a blessing and a curse. The rite had imbued him with mystical powers which gave him more tolerance for sunlight, allowed him to consume less blood and heightened his senses, among other benefits.

The downside of the oath was that no one, not vampire or mortal, could withstand prolonged exposure to his bodily fluids, nor he to theirs. He had no choice but to obey its demands, a slave to its requirements above and beyond his own. If he didn’t heed the warning, he’d black out for hours, as long as a whole day. Those who tried to cheat the system too many times risked death, the kind a vampire could not recover from.

The single exception was to find the one person nature had assigned as his mate. His soul mate. The one person in a world of billions who could tolerate his touch. His kiss. His intimate embrace. One person Rainer knew didn’t exist in Taggart’s Bend.

And because he’d let his friends tempt him into thinking the oath could be circumvented, however briefly, he was going to have a raging hard-on for the rest of the night. He was angry, lonely and horny as hell.

He rounded on his companions, determined to get the message across so they would stop trying to cheat the system and accept his limitations. “If trust and desire were enough, Seb, you’d be on your back right now with my cock buried so deep inside you it’d tickle your nose. If affection meant anything, I’d be begging Kassian to suck me until I came so hard he’d choke on it.”

Even a simple kiss posed considerable risk. A tongue-tangling, soul-sucking kiss. He missed the intimacy of those more than all the rest combined. Another admission Sebastian and Kassian wouldn’t understand so he didn’t bother to make it.

He pushed the thoughts of unfulfilled desires aside and finished what he had to say. “If you care for me at all, help me look for the one person in the whole freaking world who isn’t poison to me instead of spending your considerable brain power on how you can circumvent it.”

The room was very quiet when he got done talking. He glanced around and realized he’d been shouting. None of the witnesses to his outburst would meet his eye, except for a lone figure hovering at the archway leading out of the hot moist chamber. A face he didn’t recognize. Rainer stared at him until he turned his back and walked out.

Fuck. Rainer started toward another exit leading to the dressing area.

Kass continued to peel his lover out of his leather encasement as if nothing untoward had been said. “Where are you going, Rani?”

He needed some time alone, a distraction. Anything to get his mind off his raging erection. “To find the ingénue. Maybe he’ll have a problem I can solve.”

 

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Kira Stone lives in a warm cave tucked away in the remote Scottish Highlands, where a small band of ever-changing heroes serves as company. As they relax in front of a roaring fire, demons dance in leather pants and angels stroke tunes from the harp strings, while the Fae stop in to share tales from other worlds. Bound by pen and imagination, these are the folk who wait to greet you from the pages of Kira’s stories.

The who and what of Kira in this more mundane world is not what turns you on, but the words sure do – so go discover the passion that awaits you between the covers of every Kira Stone book…

Website: www.kirastonebooks.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100001644394480&ref=ts
Email: kirastone@gmail.com

 

Throwback Thursday: A Gift of the Darkest Magic by Ashlynn Monroe #vampires #PNR #eroticromance #darkromance #TBT @ashlynn_monroe

Would you be willing to betray the person you love in order to save their life?

Clarissa’s husband Matt is dying of cancer. They’ve tried everything that medicine has to offer, both traditional and experimental, and nothing’s worked. Clarissa spends her days in the hospital, watching the man she loves slip closer and closer to certain death.

When her sister tells her she knows a way to save Matt, but it involves visiting a local club run by vampires, Clarissa is outraged that her sister would believe something so insane. But then she learns the truth.

Braden, the sexy and mysterious vampire who runs the club, does indeed have the means to save Matt, but he demands a high payment in return. He doesn’t want money, her blood, or even her life…he wants something she never expected. Clarissa has a choice—spend twenty-four hours in Braden’s bed or let her husband die.

But what she never foresaw was how much more the vampire would truly want after he’d given her the gift of the darkest magic.

Content Warning: infidelity, light bondage, anal sex, and rough sex

 

Available at Beachwalk Press

 

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(c) 2012, Ashlynn Monroe

The quiet drip of the IV and the occasional bleep of the monitor were the only sounds in the dim hospital room. Clarissa Blair held the cold hand of her husband, Matthew. Matt’s diagnosis of cancer, just after Christmas, had been a horrible surprise. His condition rapidly deteriorated. The vibrant forty-year-old lay reduced to a thin husk, wasting away in the small room on the fourth floor of Mercy General Hospital. Clarissa could only wait and mourn quietly. She’d tried to hide her pain and stay positive for Matt, but it was getting harder to pretend as he slipped closer to the end of his life.

Their twin seven-year-old daughters spent a lot of time with her mother. She didn’t want them to remember their father as the corpse she saw each day when she came to the hospital after work. Her life was a cycle of working and grieving. She knew the girls missed her, but she just didn’t have the strength to be there for them and keep up with the day-to-day battle of holding herself together. Matt was leaving them.

The sound of the door opening roused her from the dark, sad thoughts. She stood up and hugged the visitor. “Hi, sis.”

Caren, her younger sister, breezed into the room smelling of sunshine and fresh air, in contrast to the stale stench of death she’d come to associate with her husband’s hospital room. “How is he today?”

Her sister’s sadness only added to the weight in Clarissa’s heart. “About the same. The nurse said last night was tough, but he pulled through. He’s a strong fighter.” She knew the last words sounded bitter. He was the strongest man she’d ever known; she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t beat the disease ravaging him. His once handsome face was pale and sunken. Her Matt had left long ago, leaving the dying man in his place. Her Matt would never have abandoned her and their daughters as this man was doing.

For a long moment, Caren looked into her face. She knew Caren wanted to say something, but was holding back.

“Go ahead and say what’s on your mind. You’re always so afraid of saying something that’ll make me cry. I’m past that stage now. Just talk, you’re irritating me.” She knew her shrill statement bordered on cruel, but she didn’t care. What was the use of pleasantries when her whole life was over and she’d never be happy again?

“Sorry, sweetie,” Caren whispered, laying a gentle hand on Clarissa’s shoulder.

The simple act of kindness tore at her soul, making her want to lash out again. She shrugged off her sister’s caring touch. The unwavering love in the deep turquoise eyes, the same shade as her own, sent a little stab of guilt through Clarissa. “I’m the one who should be sorry, but seriously just tell me what’s on your mind.”

Caren gave her a weak smile. “You know I love Matt too.”

Clarissa nodded. Matt had no siblings. She’d married him when Caren was still in high school and he’d taken to her sister as if she were his own. “I know.” She sighed.

“I think I know a way to save him, but I need your help,” Caren whispered.

 

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Ashlynn Monroe is a busy wife and mom. She enjoys writing about anything and everything paranormal or fantasy related.  She spends most of her time daydreaming up her next tale of romance.

Visit her website at www.ashlynnmonroe.com to learn more about the worlds she imagines.

A Pack of His Own by Emily Carrington #PNR #UrbanFantasy #DarkFantasy #LGBT #GayRomance #NewRelease @CarringtonEmily @changelingpress

A psychic vampire, werewolf, foxgod – and a mother-in-law?
How can they make time for anything else?

A Pack of His Own (Duet) Vol. 2 (A Pack of His Own 2)

Publisher: Changeilng Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Box Set, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy,
Elves Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay, Shapeshifters, Vampires

A psychic vampire, werewolf, foxgod – and a mother-in-law? How can they make time for anything else?

Tangled Up in You: Retired SearchLight agent Jason Campbell finds himself compelled by a fox demigod who gets to him through the magical medium of music. As Jason falls deeply in love with Reynard, he discovers Reynard is slave to a monster. Jason struggles to free both Reynard and the fox-god’s son, but he must do so without weapons, without backup, and without all the facts, which could lead to death’s retirement.

A Very Psychic Vampire Christmas: Charlie and Luis, A werewolf and a psychic vampire, have been mated for two years according to werewolf custom. They’re planning to get married, to comply with psychic vampire tradition, as well. Unfortunately, the psychic vampire matriarch wants her son to stay away from his werewolf lover — and she’ll stop at nothing to break them up.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for November 16th at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Emily Carrington
Excerpt from Tangled Up in You

As commanded, Jason Campbell skipped through the wild flowers that divided his sister’s wheat field from the dirt lane.

No.

He walked. Neither shambling nor plodding, he walked. And although he had been ordered to “go skip in the daises” by his sister, he was only obeying because he wanted to be out of the house. He’d been in Kansas less than three hours, and he already wanted to run back to DC.

But nothing awaited him in Washington. The nation’s capital held nothing for him now that he’d been let go.

Jason stopped, head tilting as he caught the ringing, mournful sound of an acoustic guitar being strummed. He discounted it and kept walking. Any idiot could make the guitar sound what Jason called “surface beautiful,” meaning technically perfect but without a soul. It was a welcoming instrument, almost as easy as a child’s recorder and much more pleasant.

He stopped again, and he felt a slow smile stretch his mouth. The guitarist was plucking the instrument and making music. True and compelling runs of notes, like water over a fall. Jason nodded to the melody carried on the galloping accompaniment. He knew this one, and he began to sing softly.

“Papa, Papa, build me a boat
“That I might on the ocean float.
“To hail all ships as they pass by
“And to enquire for my darling boy.”

It was a griever’s song, full of loss and providing no promise of comfort. Jason loved it and would have, he told himself, even if he hadn’t been smarting from forced retirement.

He left the band of wildflowers and walked beside the dirt lane where only the occasional tractor passed. He would be trespassing in the neighbor’s field by following the music, but he had a hope that trespassing wasn’t as strictly watched and enforced here as in DC.

The melody rang over the broken chords, and the second verse flitted through Jason’s mind. He didn’t sing. It seemed blasphemous to cover the guitar’s voice with his own.

As we were out on the Eastern Isle
We lost four men
And your darling boy.

He entered another field of wheat, passing between the rows like a ghost, unseen and leaving little to no trace of his travels. Children of the Corn. He smirked briefly before letting it fall away. Child of the wheat is more to the point, but who ever heard of a horror story with that title? There were things that lived in corn fields. And wheat fields. Hungry things that called for human blood and were often sustained on birds and bugs while waiting for weary travelers.

Jason had killed some of them.

He shrugged the memories away and fixed his gaze on the single grain silo that lifted its head above the drowsy August world. There was a farmhouse beyond the structure but a good distance off, leaving the gray and cylindrical exclamation point all but alone.
The music seemed to be coming from the tower’s top. And impossible as that surely was — grain silos were places of storage, not sitting — Jason shielded his eyes and squinted, looking up for the first glimpse of the player.

“I’m too far away,” he whispered as the music left off “The Sailor Lad” and went into a skipping tangle of notes he didn’t recognize. “I can’t possibly see him. Or her.”

Still he peered, and much sooner than he would have thought, he’d reached the base of the grain silo. There was a broken ladder on its side, a rusted thing that hung in defiance of the building’s otherwise well-tended look.

He began circling the massive cylinder, searching for another way up. Because the music was definitely coming from above him, and he needed to find the guitarist. He needed to.

And while he sought, the laughing melody went on.

* * *

Reynard sensed the gnat far below, and his heart ached. He fell into a faster rhythm in an attempt to relieve the pain. Go away, he thought at the gnat who was really an innocent of some kind. A human innocent of some kind. Go away. Save yourself. Not that he was dangerous on his own, but he was bound to a ravenous beast.

“Go away, go away,” he chanted against the plucking of his right hand. “Go away, go,” he muttered as his left hand found chord after chord and changed, without Reynard’s conscious desire, to another depressing ballad. This one was without words, and Reynard hated the silence left when he quit speaking.

He purposely changed the music and, unable to keep away from the mildly dirge-like, began making up one of his own.

“Fly, little, fly, little,
“Fly, little bird.
“Far away from me,
“Far away from him,
“Far from your own desires.”

That wasn’t half bad, and Reynard went on:

“Run, little, run, little
“Run, little bear.
“Dangerous parents you have.
“Dangerous you will become,
“But dangerous I am.
“Run. Run. Run.”

But the gnat — the man — was now prodding at the ladder below. If he kept doing that, he would discover the silo’s secret. Then there would be little Reynard could do to keep him away. To keep him safe.

He bent a touch more magic into the song, hoping it would affect the man as his first attempt with small magic had not. And he sang.

“Creep, little, creep, little,
“Creep, little gnat
“Far from me.
“Far from here.
“Far from your death.”

For an instant, this seemed to work. The man hesitated with his hands not quite resting on the invisible rungs of the ladder that only looked rusted.

Then he began to climb.

He did it fast, as if he was afraid he’d rethink his actions. Or maybe, Reynard decided when he caught a glimpse of the man’s briefly upturned face, as if he had climbed invisible ladders before. The act might be completely commonplace.

What sort of man is this? Reynard stepped back from his window as the stranger neared. Why isn’t he affected by my music, by my magic? A frisson of excitement rushed to the ends of all his fingers and curled his toes. There had never been a mere mortal able to resist him. Who was this man?

Maybe he isn’t a mere mortal human. But when Reynard had sent out his magic to stop the stranger, he had felt no answering magic. The immune newcomer was as mundane as sliced bread.

He allowed himself a brief smile as the memory of his childhood, years without sliced bread, years of loaves never precut, flitted through his mind. He’d lived long enough to see something that had once seemed ostentatious become common. This man, too, might become the accepted thing.

But not now, he thought, as the stranger climbed through the window and stood in the same room with Reynard in spite of the “go away” melody. Now he is a miracle.

Reynard bowed, not wondering at his sudden desire to be formal. “Welcome.” That sounded as if he’d expected the man. “You are a surprise.” That sounded rude. Quit analyzing your words and say something that is truly you. “You are welcome here, miraculous stranger.” That at least seemed like him, even if it remained overly formal.

The average-looking man returned his bow. “Thank you. I am Jason Campbell.”

Weren’t names a thing of power? Yes, but this man seemed unafraid of that.

 

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Emily Carrington has been writing m/m erotic romance (specializing in urban fantasy) since 2010. She is currently branching out into the other letters of the LGBTQ rainbow. She lives in Maryland with her guide dog. For short stories about the main and side characters in her books, please visit her website.

Website: emilycarrington.com/

Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/4619715.Emily_Carrington

Facebook: facebook.com/emily.carrington.370

Twitter: twitter.com/CarringtonEmily

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I walked away six years ago. But this time she’ll be mine!

Zipper (Dixie Reapers MC 7)

Genres/Themes: Contemporary, Interracial, New Adult

NOTE: No Cliffhanger. No Cheating. Guaranteed HEA. Spanking. Sex Toys.

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Cal lost his wife years ago, and the last thing he wants is a relationship. Then he meets Triss…

Lightning Girl (Solar Flare 4)

Genres/Themes: Bisexual, Gay, Vampires, Scifi, Paranormal

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Vampires and humans don’t mix, no matter what fate says. Good thing Vampires make their own rules…

Haven House Vampires (Haven House Vampires 4)

Genres/Themes: BDSM, Boxed Set, Dark Fantasy, Bisexual, Vampires

Get it at Changeling Press