Sunday, August 31, 2008

Excerpt: Spaceport- Paralyzer by Marteeka Karland

Spaceport: Paralyzer
by Marteeka Karlandcover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-999-6
Genre(s): Futuristic, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Magic and Mayhem, Spaceport
Series: Spaceport Multi-Author
Length: Novella

Starla, a Paralyzer Mage of the Vastus, has been assigned to be bodyguard to, of all people, a rock star. After an attempt on Tygor Gold's life, she finds herself on Spaceport Adana as, in her mind, a glorified babysitter. What she doesn't realize is she is but a pawn in the greater scheme of things.
Tygor has his own magic and reasons for not joining the Vastus as a Mage. When his magic and Starla's collide, the results are more than even the Vastus could have predicted. Driven by something more than magic, more than chemistry, the two must find a way to exist together…
And to survive.
Spaceport: ParalyzerMarteeka KarlandAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Marteeka Karland
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
As she rounded the perimeter of The Haze, the bar on Spaceport Adana the band had played for the last three days, Starla had to push her way through the undulating, screaming crowd. The noise beat into her brain, and bodies pressed against her. For a moment, she lost sight of both Tygor and her next checkpoint.
Making her way through the crowd as she set watchful spells proved more difficult than she’d originally thought, but she made steady progress forward. Once she reached the bar, she ignored the bartender and hopped up to sit on the end of the bar, craning her neck to see around the crowd, looking for possible threats. Why in the damned universe this man chose to put himself out in the open if he was so worried about his own safety was beyond her.
Hiring a woman to protect him? It was an image Starla found hard to buy. He was a man who always seemed to be in control. She shrugged. Oh, well. Who was she to complain? Tygor was the hottest man she’d ever seen. Sometimes she had to shake herself to keep from staring. Sometimes, she almost reached out and touched him.
She sighed as her thoughts turned inward, trying to escape the noise. The mind spells she’d set throughout the crowd would alert her if anything were amiss. This was a mentally exhausting mission and once she confronted Tygor Gold and forced him out of the limelight, things would get worse. She didn’t have any choice. Keeping up with the group’s exhaustive schedule for even two weeks had weakened her mentally and physically, though it galled her to admit it. She needed sleep. She needed to get Darkest Knight off the stage and away from places like Spaceport Adana.
As she contemplated exactly how to accomplish this, her thoughts were interrupted when one of her spells exploded in the crowd, forcing everyone away from the stage. Immediately, Starla jumped to her feet on the bar and launched herself in the general direction of the stage. Her heart was pounding, but her training took over, and she blocked out everything but what her spells and her own senses fed her. Her eyes were firmly fixed on Tygor. Her top priority was to get him out of danger.
She hadn’t yet determined where the threat originated from, but her other spells spoke directly to her mind, being her eyes and ears in all directions.
There. Behind one of the speakers.
That he’d made it so far into the bar alarmed Starla greatly, but she’d have to think about that later. He was aiming at Tygor, using the singer’s confusion to his advantage.
Starla focused on getting to Tygor and taking him down. It was imperative she give the gunman another target. She was confident enough in her own magical shields to make herself that target.
Tygor looked all around him, his stance ready for battle. She vaguely registered this as she hit him in the midsection with her shoulder, effectively taking his place in the sniper’s line of fire.
There was a quiet little zing zing as the porcelain projectiles launched from the gun, and Starla felt like someone had thumped her in the shoulder and back with a mining rod. She lost all feeling in her right arm, rendering her gun hand useless. Whipping her head around, she caught sight of the assailant. Their gazes locked. Got you.
The gunman’s eyes widened a fraction before the full effect of her power struck him. His gun fell from his spasming hands before he went completely and utterly still.
Letting the full effect of her spell take hold of the would-be killer for about thirty seconds, Starla knew the terror she had spawned in the man. She was a Paralyzer. A rare and unique talent even among the Vastus. She could stun her prey for a few seconds, or render them completely immobile. She had control of every muscle in their bodies -- voluntary and involuntary muscles alike. This time, she’d paralyzed the man’s respiratory system, but not his heart. She had never stopped someone’s heart, and hoped she never had to use her gift to such extremes. But when she wanted to make an impression on her prey and show them exactly what she was capable of, this was the best way.
Struggling to her feet, she stumbled to the man, never taking her gaze from him. “You aren’t going to die today. Not yet, anyway. I only want you to understand what I can do. If left in your present state, you would expire. Slow and painful though it would be.” She gave him an evil smile, as if she’d enjoy watching just that. “I have the ability to stop your heart, but I would prefer to bring you to the authorities unharmed. You should know, however, that if you give me any grief whatsoever, I have no qualms about simply killing you and being done with it.” She released her hold on him, allowing the now red-faced man to breathe. “Do we understand each other?”
He collapsed on the floor, nodding twice, breathing hard. Satisfied, Starla motioned to two rapidly approaching security officers to take the man away. She turned back to Tygor, her body starting to feel the effects of the gunshots.
When she did, she slammed into a massive, hard chest and cringed at the pain the jarring caused her.
“Your instructions were not to go after my assailant under any circumstances. Can you not follow even the simplest of orders?” He didn’t sound like a man who was grateful she’d just saved his life.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Excerpt: Hot River-- Sixty-Nine Sadie by Kate Hill

Hot River: Sixty-nine Sadie
by Kate Hillcover art by Reneé George

ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-045-2

Genre(s): Paranormal

Theme(s): Werewolves, BBW

Series: Hot River

Length: Novella


Now that Hugo, the nasty werewolf from Triple Shot Tracy, has been imprisoned, all is well at the magic campground -- unless, of course, you’re the wolf himself.
Hugo has been living under a curse. Considering his reputation, it seems to be well deserved. Only a certain type of woman can release him and he has spent ages looking for her. It seems his chance for freedom is over, until Sadie arrives with the power to set him free in every way.
But will his disposition, not to mention his archenemy, Charity the Werewolf Queen, ruin his final chance at happiness?

Hot River 2: Sixty-Nine SadieKate HillAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Kate Hill
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
The werewolf growled and paced the length of his cell. His blue eyes gleamed against the black fur covering his face. He was a fascinating creature. Standing on two legs, like a man, he had clawed hands and feet and a face that shared the characteristics of man and wolf -- an elongated nose and a mouth filled with sharp white teeth. His long, sleekly muscled, unclothed body was covered in a coarse black animal coat. Yet to Sadie, who stood watching him from a safe distance, he was beautiful.
In the magical world, Sadie was an expert on shapeshifters. Recently she had been contacted by the Princeton family who specialized in supernatural beast control along the area of Hot River outside the Wicked Wild. Hot River ran through the heart of the magical world, cleansing it and providing life. Sadie had spent years on its banks and prided herself in knowing the habits of just about every race of shapeshifter who lived along it.
In spite of this wolf’s particularly dangerous nature, the Princeton brothers had decided not to kill him. They needed her expertise to either cure him or keep him contained. She’d spent the past five years in the Wicked Wild, the best place to study werewolves. No doubt if anyone could help the Princetons with their fanged, hairy problem, Sadie was the one to do it.
The werewolf stopped pacing and grasped the bars of the cell. He stared at her, his growls softening, and ran his tongue over his dark lips. Sadie’s stomach tightened. She longed to move closer, to touch him, feel the hard muscles rippling beneath his animal coat, but at the moment he was far too dangerous. No doubt in his current state he would tear anyone who approached to shreds. She needed time to work with him, to help him harness his power and temper it.
Behind her, she heard the scuffle of boots on the stone floor in the dungeon where the beast was caged. She had almost forgotten the Princeton triplets -- Tripp, Oakes and Jeb -- stood behind her.
“Can you help him?” Oakes asked.
Sadie drew a deep breath and released it slowly, then turned and faced the identical blue-eyed, black-haired triplets. They were great hunters of primitive supernatural beasts, but when it came to rehabilitation of higher creatures, such as shapeshifters, they were sorely lacking in skills. Yet their concern for this werewolf seemed genuine.
“Possibly,” she said. “His kind can be difficult to deal with, but I haven’t seen one this cranky in years. Other than the female pack in the Wicked Wild, of course, but they have much more control over their powers. Still that’s not surprising. Females handle the curse much better than males.”
The triplets exchanged glances and Jeb said, “Maybe the females are so ornery because he’s responsible for the state they’re in.”
Sadie’s eyes widened and she jerked her thumb in the direction of the cage. “This is Hugo?”
“You know him?” Tripp asked.
“Who doesn’t?” she snorted. “He has the worst reputation in the werewolf community. This changes everything.” She turned back to the cage, her heart pounding with the excitement of a good challenge.
“Changes what?” Tripp demanded. “Does that mean you won’t help us?”
“On the contrary, it has sealed the deal. I want him. If I can help one like him, that means my training has been worthwhile. I’ll have to move him to my place.”

Friday, August 29, 2008

Excerpt: Too Fine for Pine by Isabella Jordan

Big, Blooming & Wild! Two Fine for Pine
by Isabella Jordancover art by Bryan Keller

ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-904-0

Genre(s): Paranormal, Sci-Fi

Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage, Shapeshifters, BBW, Big, Blooming, & Wild!

Series: Big, Blooming & Wild! Multi-Author

Length: Novella

Big, Blooming & Wild! Two Fine for PineIsabella JordanAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Isabella Jordan
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
“You know what I think of this place?” Vanessa Arnault glanced around at the endless acres of trees and rich countryside of Cana, Virginia, and smiled.
“That your father should have punished you by giving you a French vineyard instead?” Brenda stood just behind her with her arms folded across her chest looking bored out of her mind.
Vanessa knew how her friend felt. When her father had announced his latest and most devious plan to force her to grow up, she’d considered being sent to Cana a fate worse than death too. They were out in the middle of nowhere. No clubs, primitive shopping at best out here in the sticks. There was nothing for miles but cows, farms, more cows, and people of all types who stared at her wherever she went and not in a good way.
“I know things seem bleak now,” Vanessa began. “But I’ll tell you something, Brenda. I’m going to take Daddy up on his challenge.”
Brenda’s expression went from bored to incredulous. “You’re going to become a farmer?”
“No.” Vanessa laughed. “He wants me to grow up and learn about the real world, right? He gave me this land and six months to figure out what to do with it to turn a profit. I’m going to prove to him I can do it.”
“He threatened to take away your credit cards again, huh?”
“Oh, shut up!” Brenda had been her best friend since they were two and knew her father nearly as well as she did. Her friend knew how the drill went. “Maybe he did. But what if, for once, I proved myself?”
Brenda’s burst of laughter didn’t surprise her. It did piss her off.
“If you were going to prove yourself to your father, Vanessa, why couldn’t you have done it last year when he sent you to his store on Rodeo Drive? You had the perfect opportunity to break into the fashion industry right there.”
“You mean working for the evil troll who manages that store?” Vanessa asked. “The only thing I learned from her is what happens when there’s no respect for basic human rights.”
“She fired you for boinking that French guy -- what was his name? -- in one of the dressing rooms,” Brenda reminded her.
“Oh yeah.” Vanessa smiled at that naughty little memory. “His name was Etienne. And she would have fired me anyway because she was a troll.”
“And you don’t like to do any real work,” Brenda pointed out.
“That was harsh, Brenda. I can do real work. I’m going to do a lot of real work right here in this place.”
“I still wish you could have found ambition last year on Rodeo Drive.” Brenda shook her head. “What the hell are we going to do out here? Develop a line of designer Christmas trees?”
“I thought of that.” And she had. “But then I had this brilliant idea at the spa.”
Brenda’s dark eyes met hers. “I’m afraid to ask.”
Walking over to one of two incredibly tall trees next to them, Vanessa knocked on its solid trunk, careful to do so gently because its bark was rough. The last thing she needed to do was crack one of her airbrushed nails until she could figure out if there was a spa in hillbilly hell.
“Look. This is a huge, gorgeous oak tree.”
“I’m impressed you knew it was oak,” Brenda told her.
Vanessa reached into her Prada tote and pulled out the Nature for Dumbbells book she’d bought before she’d caught her flight out of New York.
“There are a ton of trees here, all quality wood that can be made into something that can turn a profit.”
“You’re going to make furniture?” Brenda asked.
“Even better.” Her friend would love her idea since she was a pet lover too. “We’re going to make designer pet homes.”
“Pet homes?” Brenda’s pretty smile lifted her spirits.
“Vanessa’s Precious Pet Palaces.” She held her arms out for effect. “What do you think?”
“Love it!”
“The first one is going to be for Pierre, my baby poodle,” Vanessa explained. “A perfect, miniature Taj Mahal. There are all kinds of crafty people who live here who can make anything out of wood.”
Brenda had caught onto her excitement, her black eyes gleaming. “My kitty? Tinkles? What about her?”
“Hmm, how about a miniature Buckingham Palace?”
“Make it Chateau Gaillard and you’ve got a deal.”
“Wonderful choice.” The two trees she stood before drew her attention. Oak trees and they looked remarkably similar. Well, you don’t see that every day. They appeared to be the biggest and best two oak trees as far as the eye could see. They’d be perfect to use for the first two pet homes for Pierre and Tinkles.
“What are you doing?” Brenda asked as Vanessa pulled a can of red spray paint out of her purse.
“Marking these two trees. They’re the best I’ve seen. We’ll use them to make our first two precious palaces.”
“Since when do you carry spray paint? You’re going to start a graffiti business too?”
Vanessa drew a huge red X on the trunk of each tree, doing a good job in her opinion.
“No, my book said I’d need some way to mark the trees I wanted for specific purposes.” Vanessa shrugged, tossing the can back into her bag. “Let’s head back to the house.”
At least they had a decent place to stay. The house was nearly a hundred years old and it offered a wonderful view of most of her new property even if it was lacking in basic necessities. Vanessa would love it even more once the hot tub arrived and she had it installed. The closets would need to be expanded and all the old-fashioned décor would have to go. Then there was the satellite dish, high-speed Internet, a home gym…
Once she’d made some modifications and found a decent chef willing to come out to the sticks, living there just might be tolerable.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Excerpt: Gray Man by KZ Snow

Emma Moore’s vacation along the lower New England seaboard had everything to do with bolstering her flagging relationship and nothing to do with finding ghosts. But when an eerie entry written in archaic script shows up in her diary, she suspects it might be related to the shadowy figure suddenly clinging to her boyfriend’s back.
A shockingly orgasmic ride on a theme-park roller coaster and the mystifying utterances of a psychic stranger only strengthen Emma’s suspicion that something, or some$one, is going bump—and hump—in the night. Getting to the bottom of this disturbing yet compelling phenomenon seems her only recourse.
Leaving her lawyer-boyfriend behind in Boston to pursue his work and possibly an affair, Emma returns to the historic Connecticut inn where the intensely passionate Gray Man first appeared. What she discovers and experiences there bring her the most wrenching sadness and exhilarating hope she’s ever known…and the realization that there are no bounds in time and space any more than there are in the ocean that lies beyond her window.

* * * * *


Emma spun around. Alan, his face peppered with a sandy growth of whiskers, was sitting up in bed, watching her. He ran both hands over his head and stretched backward. Emma’s shock gave way to curiosity. She squinted, peered at him. There was something—
He frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Why indeed. Was his body casting a shadow against the headboard? Emma’s gaze shifted to the windows and followed the course of the incoming light. Yes, it was possible. But… “I, uh, was just wondering how you’d look with a beard and mustache.”
Alan’s right hand immediately went to the lower half of his face and rubbed it. “Don’t even go there,” he said.
“Alan, did you happen to get up in the middle of the night and go into the sitting room?”
He gave her a puzzled look. “No. Why would I do that?” Sliding to the edge of the bed, he yawned, scratched the middle of his chest and got up. “I slept like a log last night.” He shuffled toward the bathroom.
Emma’s mouth fell open as she followed his progress. The shadow that was behind him in bed was still behind him, hovering at his back like some gauzy gray kite he was toting over his shoulder. It had a vaguely human form, but taller than Alan’s. Taller and unsettled, like a swath of fog.
What the hell? Staring at the closed door, Emma was tempted to enter the bathroom and watch Alan as he shaved and showered. But no, she couldn’t do that. He was very adamant about maintaining “the privacy of the toilette.” She simply had to put this morning’s peculiar start out of her mind and concentrate on getting ready to leave.
“Damn, that’s right,” she muttered, remembering they were going to Six Flags today. She would much rather have continued along the Connecticut shore, but she’d already committed to the change of plan.
Emma gathered their things. She knew that when Alan emerged from the bathroom, he’d head straight for his wireless notebook. That damned computer was his best friend. While she bathed and dressed, he’d first check his email, then he’d look up driving directions, park hours and attractions, any and every little bit of information he could glean before they left Saybrook. He was like that. Fussy, meticulous.
Emma would have preferred a superheated, slippery fuck in the shower and a leisurely, meandering stroll or drive. But neither was going to happen.
Well, maybe the damned park will be closed today, she thought, hoping beyond hope.
Standing over her suitcase, Emma paused. She hesitantly lifted the diary out of its pocket and, with trembling fingers, turned to last night’s entry.
The word was still there.
* * * * *
As the coaster’s train smoothly shot forward, she felt something startling and inexplicable—the gentle probing of fingers between her legs. They soon glided along the lining of her labia. She knew within seconds this wasn’t a seam rubbing against her. With a sharp intake of breath, Emma tried not to fidget in the seat. She glanced at Alan. Both his hands were firmly wrapped around the safety bar. Besides, she was wearing panties and jeans. But, somehow, this touch was inside her clothing.
The gliding continued, soon becoming a firm, directed pressure that closed in ever-tightening circles around her clit. Emma began to make tiny mewling sounds. It didn’t matter. Surely nobody could hear her. The train had begun its agonizing crawl up the two hundred foot hill. In the low, near distance, a river glimmered.
Emma felt lips and tongue join the fingers that teased her. On each beat of the slow, ratcheting clicka-clacka from beneath the coaster’s rails, a finger probed her vagina, a tongue flicked over her clit. Clicka-clacka…on each mechanical tick, soft lips plucked at her sensitized bud. Emma’s body jerked delicately as her eyelids fluttered and closed. A delicious, mounting tension seized her body—a tension both matched and underscored by the coaster’s ascent up the steep, steep rise. Her pussy seemed to clench around the stimulation it was getting, touches that were ever more persuasive, then insistent. The moist caress of lips and tongue. The precise pressure of roving fingers.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Excerpt: Invisible Love by Amanda Steiger

Invisible Love
by Amanda Steiger
Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-061-2

Excerpt #1

Gregory floated above New York City. He stared through the patchy clouds, at the tiny skyscrapers and high rises below. At night, the city glowed with a thousand points of light, like a mirror image of the starry sky. Cars crawled through the maze of streets like ants through tunnels. How faraway, how unimportant everything seemed from this distance.
Wind howled around him. A few fat snowflakes spiraled down from the sky. Gregory felt no cold. He had felt nothing for hundreds of years. He wondered—for the thousandth, the millionth time—if he would ever escape this empty, gray half-life, or if he was doomed to wander the Earth as a spirit for all eternity, unseen, unheard. Alone.
He drifted down toward the city, like a feather on the wind. His feet touched the ground. He walked down the sidewalk. People hurried past, talking loudly, cell-phones glued to their ears.
It was that time of year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, when the whole of America seemed caught in a frenzy of commerce. People clutched brightly colored shopping bags filled with toys and the latest electronic gadgets. Store windows glowed with warm light. Signs boasted low, low prices to entice consumers. Passers-by walked through Gregory’s dim, translucent form as though passing through a cloud of smoke. Their thoughts and memories swirled through his mind, like leaves on the wind. He took no notice. The thoughts of the living were dull and repetitive, centered around the details of their hectic careers and their confused love lives.
He stopped outside an apartment building and looked up.
On the third floor, a window glowed with lamp-light. He stared at the window, wondering why it held his attention. He felt a peculiar tug in the core of his being. Something drew him toward that square of warm, yellow light. He floated off the ground, hovered outside the window, and peered in.
A young woman sat upright in bed, legs tucked beneath her, an open book in her lap. Long, wavy hair spilled over her slim, pale shoulders, hair so dark a brown it was almost black. It shone with a soft luster in the lamplight as she twined a lock around two fingers. Her full lips were parted, relaxed, as her eyes moved over the lines on the page. She wore only a sleeveless, white cotton nightshirt and a pair of white panties.
Gregory stared. An ache of longing pierced his soul, so deep and sharp it was almost pain. How long had it been since he had touched a woman?

Monday, August 18, 2008

Excerpt: Discovering Passion by Selena Illyria

Discovering Passion
by Selena Illyria
Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-049-0
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Interracial, Vampires
Series: Vampiropolis
Length: Novella

Lida Sandros is tired of the dating scene. She wants to settle down, stay at home, have someone to cuddle with. She's tired of the hamster wheel of love, that is until her ex-fiancé comes to town and brings up old feelings of the past. It doesn't help that he may not be back for her but the artifact that she was given.
Xavier Hideo has always regretted hurting Lida. But he walked away due to the danger his chosen profession brings him. When his profession and only love collide he starts to realize that what he wants in life no longer jives with what he needs. He needs Lida and wants to settle down, walk away from chasing after ghosts of the past. But can he convince her that he has changed?

Buy Link:


He turned his attention to the cars before him, dropped her arm and continued trying to remember where he parked. After ten minutes of silence she finally spoke up.
"So, you're lost huh?"
"I am not lost," he gritted out.
"We've passed by this Aston Martin five times, so unless you have a hard-on for the car, we're lost."
He whirled around to face her, "We're not lost. Just give me a minute to find the car."
"Bullshit! Either you really like the Aston Martin or you're in love with the hot pink Beetle parked next to it or we're lost. Which is it?"
Xavier watched Lida cross her arms, her breasts lifting up to show off more cleavage and for a second, time stilled as he just stared at the pale white mounds exposed to his view. A need to uncover them and taste her skin surged up inside of him. He licked his lips, remembering the taste of her pink nipples. He blinked and in that time she moved before him, waving her hand in front of his face.
"A, my eyes are up here. B, you wanna see the vanilla mounds of goodness, you better take me to dinner first. And C, there is no way in hell that we aren't lost."
Annoyance rose up inside of him to quell his arousal, for now.
"We are not lost and I have no desire to see your so-called 'vanilla mounds of goodness.' What are you, ten?" He knew he was lying but refused to admit to it. Whirling away from her he spotted his car and started toward it but didn't miss her muttering, "Well, I could have said, wanna see my pussy but you weren't staring at my crotch now, were you?"

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Excerpt: Melanie Unmasked by Michele Bardsley

Melanie Unmasked

Madam Periwinkle’s Erotic Delights

Michele Bardsley

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 Michele Bardsley

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


“Pick me up a latte, will you?”
Melanie Trident stopped tapping numbers into the computer and looked at her stepsister, the luscious Venus Montgomery, head honcho of Viva Venus, the West Coast’s premiere spa. And in California, where spas were as numerous as Paris Hilton’s sex tapes, being booked six months in advance was no small feat.
Venus was the spa’s best advertisement. She leaned casually against the desk, looking thin, blonde, and gorgeous. Venus and Melanie were the same height, 5’ 5”, and yet Venus always looked taller. Her sis never had a bad hair day. Her body had no flaws -- no fat, no scars, no pimples.
Melanie had all the above. Her curly hair could never be tamed, her eyes were the color of dirt, and -- due to a childhood accident -- she had a scar that curled from the top of her right cheek to her eye. She fought the war on acne every day, and nearly always lost.
“Hel-lo, Mel?”
“Are your other minions busy?”
Venus rolled her eyes. “How long have you been in this office?”
“All morning.”
“And for the last two days, you’ve been stuffed back here, cave dweller.”
“Quarterly reports are a bitch.”
“So am I. I need a latte and you need some sunshine.”
Melanie sighed. Venus was genuinely nice, which made it really damned hard to hate her beauty and golden-touch success. She was Melanie’s only family, even though the unfortunate marriage between her father and Venus’s mother lasted a mere three years. Her father’s death had left Melanie in financial hell. The bank took Dad’s house, the finance company reclaimed his battered Ford truck, and the credit card company stuck Melanie with the $10,563 her father had spent. She really should’ve known better than to open that account and give her Dad an “emergency” credit card. Richard Trident had deemed everything an emergency.
Venus offered her a job as the spa’s accountant despite the fact Melanie had been unable to finish her degree. The salary was overly generous -- Venus had given her the help she so desperately needed without making her a charity case.
“You haven’t gone out with me in a while,” said Venus. Her rosebud lips dipped into a pout. “How about attending the opening of Club Mirage this weekend?”
“I’d rather fall into a pit of spikes.”
“It’ll be fun. It’s sorta like a modern version of a masked ball. You get to dress in something shiny and you get to wear a sexy mask. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“Not as fun as dying slowly on a sharp piece of metal,” said Melanie. “Of course, if I sorta aim when I jump into the pit, one spike could pierce my heart.” She pressed her hands against her chest and widened her gaze. “Gaaaaaaaah.”
“Way to be melodramatic.” Venus leaned forward and handed Melanie her platinum credit card. “I’m pulling out the boss card and pummeling you with it. I hereby order you to take my credit card and slack off. Go shopping. Buy something outrageous and useless. Do not come back here until tomorrow.”
“I still have a lot of work to do,” said Melanie.
“I don’t care. Take the card and go away.”

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Demons R Us by Alice Gaines

Vicky Burke has to get her soon-to-be ex-husband and his girlfriend out of her house before someone discovers he's using the mansion to make porn movies. When a mysterious book of spells drops into her lap, she decides to summon a demon to evict the whole bunch of them. Imagine her surprise when two, not one, emissaries arrive from hell. Imagine her delight when Asmodai and Ilbris inform her that they don't want her soul in exchange for their help. They want her body.

Chapter Two

Ilbris took her hand and helped her up. They walked to Asmodai, and she stood between them, craning her neck to gaze up at one and then the other. “You two don’t mind sharing?”
“I’m teaching him how to fuck, too,” Asmodai said.
“Hey, no one’s better than me in the sack,” Ilbris said.
Asmodai raised an eyebrow in the most regal put-down imaginable. “You need more than a huge tool, dipshit. There’s such a thing as technique.”
Ohmigod. Two gorgeous males -- one with an enormous cock and the other with expertise. Her knees got weak. She hadn’t had any sugar for months. She’d even left her vibrator at the house when she’d left for London and hadn’t gotten another one. Her pussy dampened in anticipation. If she’d known conjuring would get her stud service, she would have bought the grimoire ages ago.
“I have technique,” Ilbris said.
“Only what I’ve taught you.”
“I made the last woman come three times,” Ilbris said.
Asmodai reached over her and thumped his finger into Ilbris’ chest. “Only because I ate her pussy first.”
“Hey, old man.” Ilbris pushed his hand away. “She said no one had ever shtupped her like I did.”
“She was being nice.”
Ilbris leaned toward his coworker. “Nice had nothing to do with it.”
Asmodai took a step toward him, making Vicky the stuffing of a demon sandwich. “She took pity on you, pea brain.”
“Boys, boys.” She rested a hand on each chest and held them apart. “I can settle the argument for you if you want.”
Asmodai looked down at her as if he’d forgotten she was there. “You?”
“You want to decide who’s best at satisfying a woman,” she said. “I’m a woman.”
She listened to the words coming out of her own mouth, and her heart thudded in her chest. She’d offered herself as a judge in a fucking competition. Two hunks vying to see who could give her the most orgasms. Hot damn.
Ilbris turned her around and bent to claim her mouth for a kiss. Electricity seemed to arc between them at the contact. She gasped at the shock and leaned toward him for more. A pleasant scent of smoke curled through her mind. As if he’d started a fire inside her and would fan it until she went up in flames. She very well might. While their lips explored each other, hands came around her from behind. Strong fingers went over her breasts and squeezed while teeth nibbled gently at her earlobe.
Asmodai roared softly into her ear and then circled the tip of his tongue around the edge.
Damn, she’d never had anyone do that to her ear before. It gave new meaning to the word erotic. Ear-otic. Whatever. It sure felt good.
While Ilbris parted her lips with his own and ran his tongue over the bottom, his hands went to her blouse and worked at the buttons. Agile buggers, his fingers opened one after another until he got to the bottom. Asmodai took over there, pulling the sleeves down her arms while he nibbled along her neck to her shoulder.
Hands went everywhere over her body. Someone unfastened her bra and pulled it off while someone else unzipped her slacks. She ought to know who was doing what, but the fever in her brain blurred everything but the tingling of her nipples and the throbbing between her legs.
Someone knelt before her. Ilbris, right. He slid her slacks to her ankles and helped her kick out of them. Asmodai’s fingers covered her breasts again and this time toyed with the nipples. Slowly teasing them into hard points. Every nerve registered his touch as he circled over them, and again and again, while she rested back against his chest.
Now, Ilbris parted her legs and placed his mouth over her mound, blowing hot air on it. His tongue came out and flicked over her slit.
That shouldn’t be possible. No one had a tongue that long. But, who in hell cared? As long as he didn’t stop.
A tongue fluttered at the base of her throat, too. Rough. Scaly, even.
She opened her eyes. “Hey, you guys?”
“Hmm?” Asmodai murmured into her ear.
“You’re tongues. Are they… uh… normal?”
“Shhh,” he whispered.
“I mean it.” She pushed Ilbris away from her and stared down at him. He smiled and flicked his tongue at her.
“Yikes.” It was forked, like a snake’s, and it moved lightning quick. “You didn’t look like that before.”
Asmodai shushed her again, but this time it sounded more like a hiss. The two of them definitely had their reptilian sides, but that didn’t bother her body one little bit. What woman wouldn’t enjoy a long, forked tongue that could move as quickly as a humming bird’s wing? So, when the man behind her pulled her toward the bed, she went without resistance. He lowered her onto the mattress and pulled off her panties. Smiling, he lifted the silky material to his face and breathed deeply. “Oh, yes. I’ve missed this.”
“My turn,” Ilbris said. “I haven’t eaten pussy for months.”
“Watch the master and take notes.” Asmodai eased her thighs apart and covered her sex with his mouth. He stroked the lips. Back to front, front to back. Over and over, just grazing her clit on each pass. The rough texture of his tongue contrasted with the light pressure against her flesh to create a perfect storm of sensation. Every nerve ending went into high gear as her entire world collapsed into the space between her legs.
She turned her head and glanced toward Ilbris. He’d concentrated his attention on watching his teacher, but his hand rested on his crotch, rubbing and squeezing his cock through the leather of his pants. When he noticed her staring at him, he dropped his arm and thrust his hips forward, showing her the dimensions of his erection.
What an erection it was. Stiff and thick, it stretched from the base of his torso almost to his waist.
“Want to see it?” he asked.
Speechless, she nodded.
He snapped his fingers, and his clothing disappeared. Poof. Gone. Now, his tool stood straight out from his body. Beautiful and enormous.
He gripped the shaft in his fist and pumped. “Hurry up, pal. I’m getting hot.”
Asmodai made a noise of disapproval, and the expulsion of his breath vibrated against her nether lips. She melted against the bed, staring at Ilbris stroking his hard-on while Asmodai gave her fellatio better than anything she’d had in her most erotic dreams. Now, the tips of his tongue zipped over her clit. Fast but gently enough to build her arousal with maddening speed.
“Oh,” she sighed. “Oh my, ohmy, ohmy.”
“Want something to suck on?” Ilbris asked. He stood next to the bed now, bringing his tool near her face. It had turned near crimson with arousal, and the vein along the underside seemed to throb.
She reached for it, and he climbed onto his knees next to her. Now, she could wrap her fingers around the base and guide the head into her mouth.
He sucked in a breath. “Shit, you’re good. I’m gonna come.”
Asmodai removed his mouth from her muff but continued teasing her clit with his thumb and finger. “Hold off, man. You know it’s better if you make it last.”
“Yeah.” Ilbris thrust his hips, pushing more of his cock into her mouth. “But, damn, you wouldn’t believe how her lips feel.”
“I’ll find out later. Do this right, asshole.”
She swallowed as much of the cock as she could, using her hand to stimulate the rest. Asmodai went back to work at her pussy.
Now, he lapped at her outer lips and sucked on one and then the other. They swelled, parting for him. His tongue probed into her pussy. Almost as good as a cock. Her heart thundered, the blood pounding in her ears. She’d climax in a minute, better than she ever had before.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Excerpt: Last Call--Kamikaze by Moira Rogers

Title: Kamikaze
Series: Last Call

Genre/Line: Paranormal/Werewolves

Author: Moira Rogers
Author URL:
Release Date : August 15th

Publisher: Changeling Press

Publisher URL:

Content Warning: Contains graphic sex which may offend some readers.

* * * *
PG-13 EXCERPT (PG-13...ish)

Zoe Bennett needed to fuck someone.
It was a rather shocking reality, one that alarmed her as she slipped through Last Call’s crowded dance floor. Being alarmed by it didn’t make it easier to ignore, however. Goosebumps rose on her skin every time a stranger brushed against her. If that stranger happened to be a fellow werewolf -- a male werewolf -- her nipples tightened and she had to fight off a shudder of pure need.
She needed it tonight. Her fingers clenched around the menu she’d picked up from next to the door, creasing it as she finally broke free of the writhing mass of bodies clogging the dance floor. She needed it, and nothing -- not shyness, not her natural inhibitions, nothing -- could stop that need. Not now.
Three wide steps from the floor led up to the low platform that held the main attraction of Last Call: a long, slightly curved bar with fifteen stools and a wide corridor behind it. Three more bars crowded against the other walls of the large room, but this was the bar. The bar where the drinks were incidental.
The seats never stayed filled for long. Now they were empty except for the left-most stool, which held a young man with pale skin and sharp looking fangs that he flashed whenever he laughed. His companion, a duskily tanned young woman, leaned closer and ran her tongue along his ear as Zoe watched.
Zoe shivered and set her foot on the lowest step. Nervousness rose, but the need burning in her pushed her up to the second one.
By the third step she could feel the curious stares on her back. She ignored them and closed the distance between herself and the smooth mahogany of the bar. Her hands shook a little as she slapped the menu down and sought the bartender’s eyes. “I -- I have an order.”
His skin was the same color as the bar, and his smooth, shaved head gleamed under the low light. A small, high-tech looking headset curved over his head, something that looked like it might serve as a microphone as well. He smiled at her and nodded to the crumpled menu in front of her. “On or off the menu?”
“On.” She smoothed the menu out and turned it over, her gaze sliding down the list of specials. Last Call house drinks, each with its own meaning. Its own message. And there was only one message she had for the men of the bar tonight. Take me if you can. “Kamikaze, please.”
He nodded and reached up to tap the side of the headset he wore. His strong, deep voice cut in over the music, filling the bar and attracting the attention of most of its patrons. “Last call for the lady in black. Kamikaze, coming up.” He released the button and winked at her as the music resumed its previous volume.
Zoe slid onto the stool at the far right of the bar and struggled not to look at the dance floor as the bartender made a show of mixing her drink, a process so impressive it bordered on performance art. It made a good distraction, one which gave her an excuse not to turn around and watch the crowd behind her. She could feel the male werewolves approaching, and their sudden, intense interest made her skin tingle.
Tradition declared that no one approach her before she had her drink. Zoe ignored the appraising stares and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her menu again. The back was a neat list, divided into sections. Vampire, werewolf, witch, fae… Plain black type delineated the various clientele of Last Call, along with the “specials” peculiar to each kind. She slid her finger down the page, past the bold Werewolf heading until she found kamikaze.Werewolf in heat, looking for a temporary mate.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Excerpt: Rogue Warriors 3: Queen by Marie Treanor

Rogue Warriors 3: Queen
By Marie Treanor
Changeling Press

World leaders gather in Dome City for a vital peace conference. Gina, dutiful but sex-starved daughter of the king of the Dragul, has more personal goals - namely, to enjoy a night of forbidden sensual pleasures before her political marriage to Sylvus, powerful leader of the western Dragul.

But when she walks into the sleazy bar, she finds more than she bargained for - not one sexy human lover but two. Unfortunately, one of them is in thrall to the evil renegade Dragul, Avram. And the other, the big, enigmatic westerner, infuriates and fascinates her, and ultimately gives her true sexual satisfaction.

But duty calls, and as she rises to her new challenges of promoting peace, foiling Avram and quarrelling with Sylvus, she finally finds the love she's been looking for all along. And by the time the conference ends, Gina, the Dome and the world have changed for ever.

The westerner broke eye contact with her at last. Easing his back off the door, he began to walk toward them, and Gina, already trembling with need, thought she would melt into a useless glob of desire as soon as he touched her. How in the world was she to deal with both of them?
He paused beside them, looking down at her. Ed half-released her and she swayed nearer him. “I can taste with my eyes,” said the westerner, and moved on toward the window. “For now.”
“A voyeur?” Ed enquired. “You like to watch? I prefer doing, myself, but to each his own. Hey, baby, let’s give him a show…”
Nuzzling her neck, Ed led her to the bed, sat with her and began to caress her breast relentlessly while he looked into her eyes to see its effect on her. Smiling with forgivable smugness, he slid his fingers down the neckline of her golden gown and freed her naked breast.
“Look at that, my friend,” he said unsteadily to the westerner. “Have you ever seen a more beautiful tit than that?”
From the window, two yards away, the westerner’s gaze swiped across her nipple like a caress. “Take out the other one.”
Though it wasn’t clear who he was talking to, Gina suddenly wanted to do this for him. It felt indescribably sexy to lift her own heavy breast free of the material while the two men watched.
“Touch it,” said the westerner, low-voiced. “The way you like.”
Gina gasped. Then, as the tension grew between her legs, she palmed her breast, kneading it. She flicked her thumb over the hard, distended nipple several times, and with a groan, Ed fell on her other breast, clamping his mouth over the nipple and sucking. Pleasure soared. Still locked on her nipple, he pushed her back onto the pillows.
Again, Gina’s eyes locked with the westerner’s. She circled her nipple repeatedly with her thumb, held it between her thumb and forefinger, softly pulling, hearing her own faint moans with shock. It almost felt like he was doing it. One man at each breast. And yet the westerner hadn’t shifted from the window. Only his gaze moved between her breast and her face. And only the intensity of his eyes gave away that he was feeling anything at all.
Ed’s hands were all over her now, dragging up her skirt, caressing her knees and thighs, pushing them apart so that he could reach his goal between.
He gave a cry of triumph. “Christ, you’re so wet. You really do want this, don’t you?” He glanced over at the westerner, smiling wolfishly. “Her pussy’s soaking.”
It was also throbbing unendurably. Somewhere the tension between her legs had become pain, and then slow, burning pleasure that caused her hips to rise up off the bed without permission.
Ed began to tear off his shirt. Then, pausing briefly, he glanced at her. “We’re allowed to be naked, yes?”
“Oh yes,” said Gina fervently, while Ed tore off his clothes. The westerner moved at last, walking across to the foot of the bed and gazing down at her naked pussy. It pulsed, opening under his gaze. Gina couldn’t breathe. And yet, loving his silent attention, impossibly aroused by it, she opened her legs wider for him.
And then Ed regained her attention with his enormous, rigid cock standing upright in front of her face.
“Want some of that, baby?” he asked breathlessly. “Now?”
Gina did, but she couldn’t wait. With a small animal mewl, she lifted her hips off the bed again. And unexpectedly, the westerner sat down beside them. Reaching out, he touched her for the first time…

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Excerpt: Channeling Morpheus 3: Manikin by Jordan Castillo Price

Title: Channeling Morpheus 3: Manikin
Number in Series: 3
Author: Jordan Castillo Price
ISBN(13) 978-1-59596-419-9
Word Count: 16K
Price: $3.99
Release Date: 08/08/08
Editor: Margaret Riley
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres and Themes: Paranormal, Action Adventure, Dark Side, M/M Vampire

Marushka loves pretty things: lace and velvet, porcelain and pearls. She sews elaborate costumes for all of her dolls, and she spends hours arranging their hair just so. Her collection is growing; she’s added a very pretty trinket, and his name is Michael. She can’t wait to dress him up.

Michael always suspected mentally ill vampires grew worse and worse as the years went by. He’d never realized how unhinged they could get.

Now Michael is in way over his head. Will Wild Bill save him? Or was it only wishful thinking on Michael’s part that their connection ran deeper than sex… or blood?

The straight razor slid along the tops of the toes on my right foot. “Shoosh, shoosh, darlink. If you tremble, I might nick you. We mustn’t ruin your skin.”
I rolled my eyes down in my head, which I couldn’t move even a fragment of an inch, and told myself not to freak out. The vampire would keel over any minute. I’d slipped her three tablets of Rohypnol, and I knew from experience that three was more than enough.
Part of her, the edge of her hair, was visible in the dim streetlight that threaded through a window high in the bathroom wall. Her hair was flame red, in long, smooth curls like Shirley Temple. It was so dim in the bathroom that the red looked brown, or even black.
I swallowed. The metal apparatus that she’d clamped around my head and neck put so much pressure on my Adam’s apple, even that small motion was painful.
The razor slid up my calf. The steel was cold. The tub was cold, the water was cold, too -- and I couldn’t stop shivering. “Marushka? Can we take a break? I’m freezing.” If she let me warm up for a second, I’d probably still be shaking from the realization that the Rohypnol was taking its sweet time in knocking her out. But I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
“I know.” Her voice oozed sympathy, and she was probably even sincere. “But this is better for your pores. Once the gooseflesh smoothes out, your body will be like silk.” She wielded the razor around the curve of my knee with such delicacy that it was only the merest whisper of cold metal.
I ached to shove her away -- she hadn’t strapped down my arms, even though the ancient leather restraints were in plain view, because I’d managed to convince her that I was just as crazy as she was. That I was into it. Whatever it was she was doing.
It wouldn’t have mattered if my hands were free or not. She was so much stronger than me that I’d never be able to fend her off, even if she didn’t have a length of freshly-honed steel in her tiny white hand.
I grit my teeth, and I waited for the Rohypnol to do its job.
Manikin is available 8/8/08 here:
Jordan Castillo Price
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Saturday, August 09, 2008

Excerpt: Little Dragon by Belinda McBride

Title: Little Dragon

Genre/Line: Sci Fi, Futuristic, Interracial

Author: Belinda McBride
Author URL:
Release Date : August 7, 2008

Publisher: Changeling Press

Publisher URL:

Content Warning: Contains sexual scenes and situations, which may offend some readers.

* * * *
Following a devastating injury, Detective Rose “Little Dragon” Lee takes a courier job to make payments on her ship. The job was easy…safe…until her ship is captured by the dangerous, war-like Nephris.
Nephris Commander Arad immediately recognizes his captive as the one person his government would most like to capture and terminate. Arad immediately files a property claim on the dangerous female, making her part of his household. Rose means more to him than a warm body in his bed or a vessel for his children. She holds the key to his freedom and his sanity, to his very life.
Because Arad Soheil is not what he seems, and his time is running out.


When her entire arm went dead, Rose Lee knew she was in trouble. Big trouble.
The station wall stopped her in mid-flight, breaking ribs, and God only knew what else. When the pain suddenly faded, leaving numbness and nausea in its wake, she knew it was time to end this fight.
She slid boneless to the floor, keeping a wary eye on Daryl Nutlisch as he guffawed, preparing to finish the tiny woman that he’d just thrown into the steel wall. She caught herself going down, braced her knees, and called on some unknown reserve of strength.
The idiot was too confident, certain that Rose was down for the count. True, blood streaked her face, her left arm hung uselessly at her side. Her pistol had skittered under a rusty dumpster, and no way in hell did an unarmed woman have the strength to take down a man that was easily twice her size.
Nevertheless, as Daryl smirked and glanced away, he missed the look of calculation that crossed her face. He missed her crouch, her sleek launch from the wall, slamming a well-placed kick to his kidney.
As she rode the big man to the filthy floor, Rose’s sharp teeth tore at the bracelet on her right wrist, exposing a tiny, wicked needle that fairly dripped with a double dose of Clonk. She called it ‘Clonk’ because of the sound the suspect made as they hit the floor. This needle was perfectly placed, right on that bare skin between neck and shoulder.
Her kick had taken him to the ground before the drug took effect; robbing Rose of the pleasure of hearing his meaty face hit the steel floor. 250 pounds of pure mean male down on the ground was reward enough.
So she couldn’t use weapons… she’d use what she could. After all, it was a matter of professional pride.


Friday, August 08, 2008

Excerpt: Night Critters 3: Bad Fur Day by Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards

Night Critters: Bad Fur Day
by Lena Austin and Tuesday Richardscover art by Sahara Kelly
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-974-3
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Humor and Satire
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Series: Night Critters
Length: Novella

Buy Link:

Never Annoy a Luck God.
Staci Thornburn is determined to get the interview with the new Chinese UNESCO Ambassador, but ends up insulting him instead. Ambassador Jiao Long is a Foo Dog-Dragon cross, and a little irritable, but the American female just got under his scales in more ways than one. He curses her with twenty-four hours of bad luck, but ends up causing more havoc than he ever imagined, and soon Staci’s rescuing him. It’s a good thing dragons are fireproof, because things are about to get hot in more ways than one.

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008 Lena Austin & Tuesday Richards

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

No plain old lip rub and then tongue tonsillectomy for him. He nibbled her bottom lip until it was as sensitive as her wet and swollen sex below.
The wetness he generated in her pussy had no effect on the fire he called up elsewhere. Staci wasn’t sure if she heard the carpet sizzle, or if that was her brain frying all its circuits.
Jiao’s left arm reached around to capture her and pull her tighter into his embrace. His right hand crept up her back until it reached the neckline of her tee shirt. With one savage pull, her shirt was a tattered rag on the floor. Her jeans fared no better.
Not that Staci cared one bit about the damn clothes, but what was grain for the goose fed the gander, too. She tugged on the remains of his tee shirt until his chest was exposed. Not that he wore much more than rags, anyway. The jeans and tee were fit only for the recycler. His huge cock lay between them like a barrier, and occasionally bumped her lower belly as if it were requesting entry.
Jiao’s right hand wound her braid around his fist until he bowed her head back away from his lips, exposing her jaw and neck to caressing kisses and nibbling bites. His draconic purr vibrated through her body all the way to her toes.
Staci gasped with pleasure when his lips made their progress to her breasts and rigid nipples. His left hand cupped her butt and lifted her up, and she arched her back to allow him greater access, hoping he’d impale her on that magnificent cock right where they stood.
Instead, Jiao carried her to a table laden with porcelain statues and objects d’art, including a huge stone statue at one end. She’d not been able to look around, and didn’t much care at the time. As soon as her weight rested on the edge, his left hand swept the ornaments to the floor. The thick carpeting prevented breakage, she hoped. At least she didn’t hear the crashes and tinkles of broken porcelain. Jiao muttered something in Chinese, and then switched to English. “Lay back, lovely lotus flower. Your wings will be safe this way. Stay, and anticipate.” He released her hair and stepped away, out of sight behind a big screen. A door opened and closed with a click.
Staci put her head back and felt a hard substance against her scalp. With both her hands, she reached up to feel what was behind her. Cold stone, carved in the shape of a dragon, she guessed.
Jaio returned and smiled. “Keep your hands on the statue, if you will. Grasp it tightly.” He held up an intricately painted porcelain jar. “You will wish for the support.”
Staci studied the jar, half of her panting with excitement at the mystery, and half of her wary. “Ancient Chinese Secret potion?”
He shook his head. “Do you consider spiced honey a secret potion?” He took a finger full of amber goo from the jar. “See? Honey.”
“Well, who could be scared of that? I always read dragons had a sweet tooth. Do Foo Dogs, too?” she batted her eyes and smiled to let him know she teased.
“Yes, we do. I will have a feast.” He swiped her right nipple and caressed his finger to her navel.
Grateful for the support of the dragon statue, Staci squirmed and burned with lust. Never before had she been treated like a pastry to be decorated before consumption. Not that she was complaining! She felt pretty and cherished, enough to be considered a treat. A moan escaped her mouth before she realized how hot and needy she was.
Jiao decorated her left nipple with another dollop, and attacked his work with hungry fierceness. He licked and suckled, purring in a deep rumble that shouldn’t have come from his human form’s throat. What Staci didn’t expect was for his honey-covered finger to caress her clit when he moved to repeat the procedure on the right.
Oh, man, she needed this. She couldn’t remember the last time a male had touched her with such caring attention to detail, waiting for her reaction to see if she liked what he did before moving on to greater things. Like, maybe never? Half the time, if she so much as looked interested, their pants were around their ankles.
Jiao poured a dribble of honey in her navel and took his time licking the nectar from the tiny cup of her “innie.” Her thoughts shredded like wind-torn clouds. Still, she managed to hang on to the cool stone dragon above her head like it was a lifeline to sanity. Maybe it was. Jiao’s mobile tongue flicked the last of the sticky treat. “Tell me if I do something you do not like.”
“I’m not sure I’d be coherent. You’re… oh, gawd.” Staci’s breath caught in her throat. He was decorating her inner thigh. “Is that writing you’re doing with the honey?”
Jiao swiped a line of honey before answering. His wide grin was mischievous. “Yes. Poetry to your beauty and the taste of your skin.” He nibbled just above her knee.
Staci bit back a moan of sheer delight. She could hear the brush-brush of her tail sweeping back and forth against the legs of the ornate table beneath her. There was something surreal about the perfumed air of Jiao’s apartment aerie, high above the city’s noise. If he didn’t get on with either eating her or fucking her or something –- anything but this slow, sensuous torture -- she’d rear up and turn the tables on him…
Jiao’s tongue swiped her clit. The mere flicker of his forked tongue electrified her whole body. The hiss of the table smoking and the strong scent of burning lacquer varnish made him pause and smile. “Losing control already?”

Monday, August 04, 2008

EXCERPT: Mission: Possession by Mary Winter

Mission: Possession
Live Action Hero Book 3
By Mary Winter
RELEASE DATE: 08/02/08
Changeling Press
genres: urban fantasy, m/m, action figure come to life

Hugh has put his marketing talents to work for the store he owns with his friends, The Fantastic Five. He knows a hunk when he sees one, and the broken action figure has model material written all over his muscled body. Hugh repairs him and places the figure in the center of his new ad campaign. But when Hugh finishes taking the photos, the figure, magically returned to life, comes out from behind the camera and into Hugh’s life.

A model before he was a soldier and then an enchanted action figure, Talon is no stranger to the camera. The handsome man behind it, however, is completely new and all his. Talon is determined to show Hugh that a picture is worth a thousand kisses. But inside his chest beats the heart of a hero, and when he interrupts a robbery, he’s wounded, and Talon might lose not only his magazine-cover good looks, but Hugh.

Adrian and Dean would cream their jeans when they saw his new marketing campaign.

Grinning from ear to ear, he swapped out the dark cloth on his photography table for a light blue one, even grabbed a small urban diorama he’d mocked up for one of his campaigns six months ago, and settled the figure in the center of it. Hugh checked the scene through his camera’s viewfinder. He snapped a couple of shots. Then a few more after making some minor adjustments. Soon, he hummed a tune only he heard punctuated by the click of the digital camera.

Once more, Hugh found himself lost in what he loved -- his marketing. His last relationship hadn’t understood that facet of his personality. Normally when he took pictures a cloud hung over him, reminding him of that past romantic failure. All of them, really, because when push came to shove, his love of beauty and of commercial art far outstripped his ability to love anyone else. He paused, staring at the plastic man dressed in a spandex suit. From the strong line of his jaw to the slightly ruffled cut of his molded dark brown hair, the man radiated an intensity with which Hugh could identify.

He half expected the toy to come to life, walking right off the table. Hugh snapped a couple more pictures. It was foolish to think that. While he couldn’t explain what had happened to Adrian and Dean, he knew better than to expect such a perfect happily ever after for himself. His work had been the only lover he’d needed.

You’re as driven as I am.

Not driven, Hugh decided. Possessive. His work, his life -- all of it had to be within his controls. He could do that in marketing -- craft the perfect plan, then send it out to a hopefully adoring public. That was the only part he couldn’t predict -- how people would react to his creations. So it was up to him to make everything as perfect as possible.

I used to be like that.

“Shut up!” Hugh yelled at the chocolate-sweet voice in his mind. “You’re just a toy.” He rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, thinking maybe he should call it a night. He turned and set the camera on a table behind him.

When he looked at the figure again, the suit had draped off of one shoulder, revealing a fair amount of skin. How had that happened? He stomped to the table and picked up the figure by the waist. Hugh touched the shoulder and it felt… warm? What the hell! He was truly going crazy. He tugged the spandex outfit into place only to watch it slide down the toy’s arm again. Maybe the material had stretched or something.

Some pictures for the ladies might not be a bad thing. Trying not to grin at his idea, Hugh half undressed the figure. He picked up the camera, playing with angles and zooming in on the shot. Just a bare hand in front of a bare chest. The next shot just a face. Hugh was in his element. Inspired, he grabbed more clothing, adjusting the look to include jeans.

I haven’t had this much fun since my modeling days.

Modeling. The word sparked Hugh’s imagination, and he found a pair of white briefs that he’d purchased on a whim online. They were modeled after designer underwear, and he had to admit that, while the plastic man might not be anatomically correct, he filled the briefs out nicely.

Hugh took more pictures. His mind wandered to what might happen if he left the room and returned to find a man standing there instead of a toy. He bet the new arrival would be over six feet tall, broad-shouldered and lean-hipped just the way Hugh liked his men. Those strong, masculine feet promised that other appendages would be large as well, and he wouldn’t mind tracing every muscled ridge of the man’s abdomen with his tongue.

Talon. My name is Talon. And you can do that any time.

Hugh ignored the voice. It was well past midnight. He chalked it up to little sleep and his own overactive imagination. If he thought about it too much… Hugh shook his head and adjusted the shot. To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to wake up to a stranger in his house.

He set down his camera and backed away from the table. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he stared at the scene before him. A half dressed action figure. Some made to scale props including a small comic book. A spandex outfit. If it weren’t for his job drawing up marketing, he’d think he was a geek with way too much time on his hands.

Explore Seasons of Passion with novels by Mary Winter
Everyone needs a little Sensual Magick (especially in the bedroom!) Petal Books...because love is a beautiful thing!

Sunday, August 03, 2008

EXCERPT: Dreamscaper's Desire by Lani Aames

Dreamscaper's Desire
by Lani Aamescover art by Zuri
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-044-5
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure, Daemonum
Theme(s): Ménage, Shapeshifters, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures
Length: Novella

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 Lani Aames

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


Lips grazed Carmen’s shoulder, followed by a warm palm laid on her arm and a hot body snuggled against her backside. Already wet in anticipation, she squirmed into the rigid cock prodding the crevice between the backs of her thighs. Her clit throbbed, echoing the beat of the native drums deep within the jungle outside the tent.
Kisses were sprinkled along her throat while a hand caressed her arm. Both left trails of heat that burned her skin, claiming her with a brand of desire she’d never experienced before. She moaned, and the sound came from deep within her primal core, a place she rarely allowed free rein.
Fingers entwined with hers and moved her arm upward to rest beside her head on the pillow. A hard, muscled leg prodded her thigh until her knee bent, allowing easy access to her sex. The tip of a cock nudged between her damp folds.
“… oh, yes,” Carmen murmured. He thrust hard and deep. Her back arched, hips tilting to meet him each time.
Their bodies rocked together in a divine rhythm, the humid tropical air mingling with their sweat. Carmen strained against him with each backward push. Her body hummed with the mounting ecstasy, and her skin tingled with the slow burn of desire. She never wanted the moment to end, to lose the perfection of their union and the amazing completeness fulfilling her.
The flash of pleasure took her by surprise. Her back stiffened, and warmth flushed her body. She ground her pussy into him. His hand tightened on hers, and he pumped into her with quick, clean strokes.
“Carmen, yes, come with me.”
His ragged breaths tickled her ear, sending quivers throughout her body, and her hips undulated with each wave of pleasure. His movements became frenzied as his iron-hard cock plumbed her depths until he spilled within her, groaning with his released passion.
When their bodies lay still, a breath of jungle air, rich with the perfume of some exotic flower, caressed her sweat-dampened skin. The sultry breeze did little to cool her off, but she wasn’t uncomfortable at all. She turned to face him -- her dream lover.
She looked into his golden eyes, burning bright and reminding her of a wild tiger prowling the night in search of its prey. His taut body, as powerfully built as that of a fierce cat, radiated the spent heat of his desire.
“Nicodemus.” She touched his face, his skin warm and damp and solid beneath her fingertips. “You’re here again.”
He swept his hand into her hair and drew her closer for a kiss. When his demanding lips broke from hers, leaving her breathless, he smiled. “I’ll be here as long as you need and want me.”
“Of course you will. You have no choice.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “I do have a choice, and I choose to be with you as often as I can.”
“So you say.”
He sighed and shook his head, his long black hair moving silkily over his broad shoulders. The tips of his hair caressed her breasts. “You still do not believe me.”
“I believe that you believe it, but how can I think of you as anything other than what I know you to be -- a dream?”
Nicodemus, her dream lover… literally.

Saturday, August 02, 2008

EXCERPT: Dragon's Deal by Willa Okati

Dragon's Deal
by Willa Okaticover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-803-6
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal
Theme(s): Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Men and Women in Uniform, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Dragons
Length: Novella

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 Willa Okati

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


Sian curled his sinuous body tighter, nearly forming a ball, peeking warily out from behind the rocky outcrop he’d chosen to nap on the night before. In the dark, he had thought the nearby beach was as deserted as the rest of the coastline. He had not spied the shack or the raised gardens, the drying racks full of small silver fish, or the fascinatingly bizarre raised gardening beds trailing messy sprawls of seaweed and kelp.
A proper dragon, one worthy of his scales, would have unfurled his wings and flown away the second he realized this beach was inhabited. Not out of fear, but in haste to make a report. At last, a human with enough common sense to leave the cities and find a good place to start fresh!
The only trouble with that goal, unfortunately, was that Sian had been lost at sea -- so to speak -- for seventeen days so far, and had not as yet found his way back to the dragon lands. He knew for certain now that they were keeping him out on purpose. The old generals had said he was reckless, clumsy, too curious for his own good, and risky to have along on a campaign and that he needed to be taught his place in the world -- whatever that was supposed to mean. Bah!
Sian angrily lashed the wave-washed rock with the golden tip of his tail. If they no longer wanted him, then be it on their own heads. He would no longer choose to have any part of them either.
Besides, he obviously had better things to do. Human-watching was never dull, and this human in particular fascinated Sian. Clever, if the set-up on the beach was anything to go by, hard-working, given the sinewy-lean shape of the man, and, judging by the smile lines in his face and the way he laughed instead of cursing at the seagulls swarming him, good-natured down to the core.
Kind, yes. And… appealing. Sian rested his muzzle on the rock and exhaled, shimmers of heat in his breath. He had, from time to rare time, heard of dragons taking humans as pets, even as lovers. He’d fallen asleep to those old stories when he was a dragonlet.
But as he grew, Sian found that he wondered why, in the name of the Dragon Lords, anyone would want a human. If you asked him, they were small, fragile, cantankerous, and funny-looking, and he had not yet seen reason to change his opinions.
This man, though… he struck Sian as different. Maybe it was that he had not seen or spoken to anyone else in seventeen long days, or just that he looked like the sort who might always have a kind word even for an awkward misfit, and Sian was lonely.
Watching him, Sian thought that now he could understand why some dragons thought humans made good lovers. The way the muscles flexed under this man’s skin, the kindness in his face, the competence in his hands… even if Sian hadn’t been desperate for company, he’d have wanted to get to know this human better. More, Sian caught faint wisps of his scent that when the wind blew in the right direction, heating his blood and making him hungry for the man’s touch.
Sian fidgeted, aching to fly from the rock to the beach, yearning for the company, but… would this man have any of that promised goodwill for a dragon? Sian huffed in thought. Most of the humans he had observed feared the dragon kind and ran screaming when they noticed their watchers. Out here with no other men or women for miles and miles, who knew how the man on the beach would react to a sudden invasion?
What to do, what to do…
A wave crashed over Sian’s back, not powerful enough to knock him off the rock -- he was no small dragon -- but startling him into loosing a yelp and a loud curse.
He hid, fast, knowing the human would have heard that, and swore silently and viciously. That had torn it. The human would surely know he was not alone now.
“Hello?” the human called. He sounded alarmed. “Is someone out there? Are you hurt?”
Why would he think that? It was only a wave -- oh! Sian remembered now. Humans used to go to sea in boats, and more often than not in the older days, those boats wrecked, leaving the survivors who were strong enough to swim to wash up on the beach.
It would, truly, be risky. Sian had never changed shape for more than a few minutes, and that on a dare, but by the heavens, he could not stand being alone for another second, and the man on the beach smelled incredible.
“Yes!” he called back, shifting fluidly from his lengthy, snakelike dragon’s shape to that of a man’s, seeming alarmingly small, pink and fragile to himself, though still bigger than the human on the beach. “My boat broke up on the rocks!” He flung himself into the waves and started swimming for shore. After a few strokes, he remembered the next part and obediently shouted, “Help! Help!”
An overcurious fish swam past Sian’s groin. Hmm. He hoped the human wouldn’t mind his being naked. The fish bit Sian’s human-shaped leg far, far too close to his groin for Sian’s liking. Sian shouted, swallowed bitter seawater, and started to cough, spasming in the waves. His panic was genuine this time when he bellowed, “Help!”

Friday, August 01, 2008

EXCERPT: Big, Blooming & Wild: Texan Bound by Dawn Montgomery

Big, Blooming and Wild! Texan Bound
by Dawn Montgomerycover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-877-7
Genre(s): Paranormal, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Interracial, Shapeshifters, BBW, Big, Blooming, & Wild!
Series: Big, Blooming & Wild! Multi-Author
Length: Novella

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008 Dawn Montgomery

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


“Put me down, Cody Duncan!” Maria’s throat closed on the end of the shriek, sending her body into coughing spasms. Cody shifted his hold and she gasped. This whole carrying me off thing is ridiculous. I can fuck whomever I want to, dammit. I’m a grown woman! A hand smacked her ass and she jerked against the hard shoulder digging into her ample stomach. Pleasure spiked through her body. Her brain spun but whether it was from the alcohol or staring at the grabbable curve of Cody’s ass, she wasn’t sure. Watching the ground from above while Cody’s long stride ate up the pathway was definitely not helping.
One thing she did know, however, no man should look that good in tight-fittin’ jeans. She gasped again on a particularly jarring step. The bastard’s hand caressed her ass almost in an apology, but she tamped down her libido’s flaring response. Stupid vaquero thinks he can toss me around like a sack of potatoes? He’s got another think coming. She twisted the ropes trapping her wrists behind her back. The friction burned her skin and she winced.
“You had this comin’, darlin’.” The slow drawl of Cody’s deep voice did strange things to her stomach.
She squeaked her protest. “What? How?” Good lord, her mind spun with another jarring step. Weren’t they at the house yet?
He chuckled and wrapped his arms tighter around her legs. “I’ll get back to that question later, sweetheart. Right now I want to know what the hell you were thinking.” He ducked under the entryway.
“Me?” She shimmied against his shoulder. “I’m not the one kidnapping people here, buddy.” The soft glow of lamplight spilled over the warm tones of Cody’s furniture. Pain twisted her stomach when she realized this living room was no longer hers. Nothing of her father’s legacy remained. True, they still owned the farm, but giving up the main house to a virtual stranger? A year later and it still hurt like hell.
“No.” He dropped his shoulder and she fell away from him. Her cry of shock had barely left her lips before he had her shoved, none too gently, into the warm embrace of his couch. “You’ve been home, what? Three months? You’re all your dad talks about. His responsible Maria.”
She glared at him, refusing to speak.
He ran a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. “You are out of control, darlin’, and I would give anything to punch that bastard out in South Carolina for you, but I can’t.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Any mention, even in passing, of her ex twisted her gut in anxiety. He was probably fucking some new stick of a chick in the ’burbs of Charleston. She sank into the cushions and tossed the long mane of her hair out of the way. Anger rose to the surface, simmering her already frayed nerves. This was Cody’s fault. “All I wanted was to have a good time, you jerk.” How dare he toss her around? You didn’t do something like that to a woman of her size. Most couldn’t. He’s very strong, her libido purred from the back of her mind. She ignored the fuzzy voice of temptation.
“No, what you wanted was to show your ass.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll show you my ass. My past is none of your business.”
He leaned close and glared right back. “Oh yes it is, darlin’, far more than you know.”
“You may run my farm, my legacy, but you don’t run me.” She raised her chin in fury.
He laughed and crossed his arms, resting that fine ass against the coffee table. “No man in his right mind would ever try and run you, gorgeous.”
They stared at each other until tingling in her fingers signaled loss of blood flow from the twisting of the ropes. “Now what?”