Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Too Hot to Handle: A Northlanders Tale by Shelby Morgen

Too Hot to Handle: A Northlanders Tale by Shelby  Morgen

Read an excerpt

Too Hot to Handle: A Northlanders Tale

by Shelby Morgen 

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-59596-253-9
Genre(s): Futuristic, Action/Adventure, Urban Fantasy, BDSM
Theme(s): Werewolves, Shapeshifters
Series: The Northlanders
Length: Novella

Earth, 2486. Global warming, followed by thermonuclear winter, leaves Earth a far different planet from the one we know. New races rule the Northlands. Old races, too, have returned. In a land ruled by politics, Lady Ayailla’s word is law. When Thallin defies her law, she has the perfect weapon at her disposal. She holds a marker -- to the Mercenaries Guild.

Jarla. A woman with no clan, no past, no loyalties to anyone -- except the Mercenaries Guild. Edgy, restless, the life suits her well. She can be whoever the guild needs her to be. Warrior. Thief. Spy. Today, she’s a bounty hunter.

Thallin. A man haunted by his past and a grief he cannot outrun. Still, he cannot change who he is. He’ll sacrifice himself to save the lives of his men, even if it means placing his fate in the hands of a bounty hunter. But Jarla’s hands are interested in more than his fate. Will her touch heal his shattered soul?

Publisher’s Note: Too Hot To Handle has been previously published with another house. This version has undergone substantial revisions.
Too Hot To Handle: A Northlanders Tale
Shelby Morgen
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Shelby Morgen
An Authorized Excerpt

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.

“Come back to bed, M’Lady.”

Damn. Just a little too slow. Jarla turned to look over her shoulder at the stranger lying beside her. The voice matched the body. Prime young beefcake. Naked, on display for her approval. Gods, what a body.

Who in the nine hells was he?

The man sought to draw her back into his arms, but a commotion beyond the window gave her another place to focus her attention. The noises that had awakened her were getting louder. Pandemonium had broken loose on the streets below. The pretty boy rose to follow her across the room, a dim figure in the shadows and light filtering through the curtains, his chest a washboard of carefully sculpted muscle that alternately glinted and darkened.

“Mmm.” Strong hands with fingertips as smooth as a child’s encircled her waist, brushing across her navel. He pulled her back against his outthrust cock, letting her feel its heat against her bare ass, then stroked his hands upward over her sensitive belly to capture her breasts. Her body responded involuntarily when he pinched her traitorous nipples, rolling them gently between soft, knowing fingers.

Damn. Her head ached from the after-effects of too much ale, and there was a man she didn’t remember pawing at her. She simply could not be trusted.

“You have the body of a Warrior goddess. So tight and firm.” He stroked her clit as he rubbed his cock in slow circles against her ass. For a moment she feared he would try to gain entrance there. “So difficult to tame. You have been very disobedient, slave. I fear I must punish you.”

Memories of last night came swirling back. He’d worked very hard trying to convince her of his mastery. Unfortunately she hadn’t been drunk enough to believe him capable of forcing her to do anything. Ever.

“Later. I’m not in the mood at the moment.” She hoped for his sake he would take the hint. Such a pity to have to kill him. He was so pretty…

“Feel how hard I am for you. You will come back to bed with me now, slave. My cock wants you. Time to show me what an obedient slave you can be. If you’re very good, I’ll fuck you ’til you scream.”

Right. Jarla fought back the urge to peel his hands off her breasts. If she screamed, it would be with frustration. She must not have paid the man, or he wouldn’t still be here. She really shouldn’t drink cheap ale. It did such bad things to her judgment.

The man bent to nuzzle her neck, letting his thick mass of dirty blond hair fall over her shoulder with a studied grace, obviously contrasting the blond of his hair with the dark burnt bronze of her skin. Suddenly he froze, his lips on her earlobe as his gaze strayed out the window.

Jarla shifted her focus to the scene playing out in the town below. Fires dotted the rooflines of thatched huts at the far end of town, racing to claim the marketplace, fanned by the cold north wind. Unable to damage the impenetrable stone walls of the city, the fire spread through the thatch-roofed wooden sheds in the slaves’ quarters with a destruction few invading enemies could have managed.

People were running from the market section in all directions, scattering like sheep before a pack of wild dogs.

“Do you think the fires will spread this far? Should we evacuate, M’Lady?”

The man -- it really was coarse of her not to remember his name -- sounded truly alarmed. Just short of panic. Jarla barely glanced at her consort as she pulled on her thin leather tunic, yanking her blackened ring mail over her head with a carelessness that ripped at her hair. “Evacuate?” The wind was blowing from the north -- away from them. Still, ’twas a good enough excuse to get rid of him. “Aye. A good plan. Round up the others and see they all make it out of this fine establishment.”


What had passed for strength and mastery last night now looked a shade too much like dumb as the stone the city was named for. “Much of this building is wood. If the fires spread it will go up like kindling. Go and knock on the doors of the other -- entertainers -- who work here. Make sure everyone is awake and knows they must flee.”

“But where will we go?” His deep voice rose close to a shriek as he pulled on his tunic.

“For now, take everyone to the river north of town. After the fires are under control I’m sure your master will see to finding you a new home. You are all too valuable to go homeless for long…” Damn it, he must have a name. Jarla tossed a pair of gold coins to him. “Go.”

He stared, wide eyed, at the coins in his hand for a moment. “Yes, M’Lady. I shall do as you instruct.” He leaned in to kiss her quickly before he fled, although at the door he turned to look back over his shoulder. “Thank you, M’Lady!”

She couldn’t get away from the tavern fast enough. What is wrong with me? she mused rather morosely as she took the outside stairs two at a time. The man was gorgeous. And he’d been talented enough. She simply wasn’t able to convince herself a man like that would ever master her. What was the point in playing sex games if you didn’t believe the man was capable of outwitting you? There was no danger. No excitement. If all she had wanted was sex, he would have been an admirable companion. But he had lacked the ability to make her believe for even an instant she could not break him with one blow, had he ever truly frightened her.

The sex hadn’t even been all that great. Not that the darling hadn’t been eager to please her. But she hadn’t wanted to be fawned over. She’d wanted strength. Passion. Mastery. She’d wanted, just for once, not to be the one in control -- the one making all the decisions. A little ingenuity, damn it. Was that asking too much?

He’d been the prettiest of Stone City Tavern’s offerings. Buff, sculpted young body, long, thick cock that looked eager to please. His stamina had proved noteworthy. But sometimes a woman wanted more, wanted…

“By the gods.” Jarla rounded the corner of the last set of stairs to run straight into the broadest chest she had ever had the pleasure of observing. She looked up, trying to see something beyond the massive chest. Up. And up. And up.

Strong hands shot out to steady her, lifting her easily off the ground. Lust hit her like a hard wave, knocking her breath from her lungs. She was no wisp of a woman. A man who could pick her up so easily could surely make her believe anything he wished. She kept looking up, wordlessly searching for his face.

The man’s countenance went dead as he glanced down at her. His gaze dropped respectfully as he set her back on the ground, though a muscle in his jaw went rock hard. “Forgive me, M’Lady.”

The torc on his neck branded him a slave. Another wave of lust shot through her. A huge bear of a man stood before her -- a man who could break her with just one blow of those mighty hands. What if instead he was forced to serve her, submitting to her every whim?

This wasn’t her usual fantasy, but surprisingly enough she found the idea even more arousing. Moisture flooded her pussy, quickly soaking the leather thong she wore beneath her leggings.

She reached out to touch, running her fingers over hard planes of muscle that dipped into a slight cleft halfway between his nipples. She let her palm glide across to stroke one of those inviting coral buds, pleased at his sharp intake of breath as it beaded up beneath her palm. “I would not have wasted my time with the pretty blond boy last night had I known there was a man about. Come upstairs with me, slave.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “I am flattered, M’Lady, but --”

“Are you not a slave? Is it not your duty to obey me?”

“No, M’Lady. That is, I am a slave, but I do not work here. I am a fighter in the arena.”

She struggled for her voice. She should have known. She had not even the effects of the ale to blame this time. She should have realized his torc was too realistic to be a bit of sculpted jewelry. It was the real thing. The raw scrape across his left shoulder suggested he had just escaped the fires. Jarla looked beyond him toward the slaves’ quarters. “The arena? It is not closed this time of the year? Are there others?”


Was he no brighter than the pretty blond boy? “Are there other men still trapped in the slaves’ quarters beneath the arena? Chained, so they cannot escape?”

“Aye, M’Lady.” He kept glancing over her shoulder, surveying the passageway beyond her as if he wanted to be on his way, to shove her aside, though he kept his hands hanging loosely at his sides.

A fire, panic in the streets, utter pandemonium. He wore a torc, yet he ran free while others stayed behind to suffer and die. Opportune timing? The twinges she’d felt in her loins moved higher, turning into the bile of disgust. “Don’t let me stand in the way of your escape.” Jarla sidestepped to allow him to pass as she headed for the burning buildings.

“I need a weapon, M’Lady.” His voice was low, yet powerful, desperately asking her to believe in him. “I broke down the gates, but I could no’ free them.”

Jarla turned to stare at the huge bear of a man once again. “You expected to find weapons to free the slaves in a whorehouse?”

“The tavern has kitchens, M’Lady. An axe for the firewood. A meat cleaver. Anything.”

The hint of a brogue and his size branded him a Northlander. A Northlander? Here? There could be only one reason for a Northlander to venture into these parts. Especially one wearing a slave’s torc. Or, perhaps, a prisoner’s collar. An iron torc, to prevent him from shifting.

After all these months…

But he was attempting to free the slaves. Without help they would all die, slowly suffocating from the smoke long before the flames began to crackle about their feet.

She was a professional, damn it. The job came first. Always.

She was a fool.

Jarla closed her eyes for the barest of moments, asking the gods’ forgiveness for her stupidity. Tossing her war axe to the man with the desperate eyes, she noted his fingers were raw and bloody, as if he’d tried to rip the chains apart with his bare hands. Still, he grinned as he caught her axe. “I thank ye, M’Lady.”

And with that he was gone.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Witching Hour by Marteeka Karland

Witching Hour by Marteeka  Karland

Read an excerpt

Witching Hour

by Marteeka KarlandCover art: Karen Fox
ISBN: 978-1-59596-259-1
Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire, Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Werewolves, Magic and Mayhem, Seasonal Themes
Series: Mount Bell
Length: Novella

Hazel really wants to fulfill her potential and be the witch her Grandma always said she could be. Unfortunately, though her spells always work, they never quite work the way they’re supposed to.

Drake, the hunky werewolf next door, has been dutifully watching over Hazel for the local coven. He’s not convinced she’s a witch, until she accidentally turns him into a dog. Of all the indignities.

Now she’s got his undivided attention, and my oh my how she’s grown up. Man, has Drake got an appetite for a certain witch… and it’s all for her own good. After all, who ever heard of a virgin witch?

Such big teeth you have, Drake.

The better to eat you with, my dear…

The Witching Hour
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Marteeka Karland
An Authorized Excerpt

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.

“Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble --”

“What the fuck is that, Hazel? That’s never worked!”

The bent aluminum pot on Hazel’s rickety stove rattled as its contents boiled. The bright afternoon sun managed to peek through the drapes of both her apartment windows, shining on the old mayonnaise jars resting in her windowsill. She’d never been able to afford the expensive glass flagons she should have been using to store her potions.

Grasping the metal handle with a potholder to stop the rattling, Hazel took a tentative sniff of her brew. She wrinkled her nose, but gritted her teeth in determination, wanting only to complete this spell even if it did stink.


Hazel gave her best friend, Irene, an exasperated look. “Nothing else has, either. Do you have a better idea?”

Irene snorted. “Just don’t pull out the eye of newt or I’m outta here.”

“Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble…” Hazel paused. “What comes next?”

Irene threw up her hands. “It’s no wonder your spells don’t work.”

“Hey, they work. Just not like they’re supposed to.” Hazel wanted to be indignant, but couldn’t manage the effort. Irene was right, to a point. “Now, are you going to make fun of me, or help me?”

“As much as I’d love to help you, Hazel, I don’t know anything about witchcraft.”

Hazel sighed. “That’s okay, Irene. Neither do I.”

They looked at each other a moment, then both started to giggle.

“Oh, well.” Irene hugged her life-long friend with one arm as she picked up her coat from a nearby chair with the other. “At least you didn’t turn Mrs. Johnson into a goat again. It’s a damn good thing she didn’t remember what happened or she’d have you locked up.”

“Don’t I know it! That woman already thinks they should kick me out of this apartment building simply because I’m forty years younger than everyone here.”

“Well.” Irene grinned wickedly. “Not everyone.”

Hazel groaned. “You could have gone all day without mentioning him.”

“You’re the one who said he was a hunk.”

“Sure. But you didn’t have to tell him I said it.”

Irene held up her hands in mock defense. “I only stated the facts as they pertained to the moment.”

“But that wasn’t all you told him. Was it.” Hazel made that last a statement. They both knew she had told the tall, dark, and oh-my-God handsome Drake Cole more about Hazel than she should have. At least, from Hazel’s point of view. She’d met Drake at the wedding of her friends, Laura and Jake, and he’d taken a permanent residence in her fantasies from that point on.

“He seemed to take it in stride.”

Irene’s innocent look didn’t fool Hazel for a moment. “He thinks I’m a blooming idiot, thanks to you.” Hazel pouted. “And I really wanted to jump his bones. Now --” She sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll just have to slip him this love potion I was making for your hamsters.”

“Why not just cast a spell that makes him forget I told him you were a witch?” Irene deadpanned. They both knew Hazel couldn’t “cast” her way out of a paper bag.

“I would, if I wasn’t afraid I’d completely erase his memory.” Hazel sighed. They joked about it, but it was a very real concern to her. Her spells always worked. But sometimes what she got and what she intended weren’t in the same ballpark. Or the same universe, for that matter.

Irene hugged her sympathetically. “Oh, honey. I would never have said anything to hurt you on purpose. It was Laura’s wedding reception and she’d filled me up with champagne. I suppose my tongue ran away from my brain.”

“Now, there’s a mental image.”

They both laughed.

“I have to go.” Irene picked up her purse, slung it over her shoulder, and opened the door. “I’ll try to make things right with Drake. He knows I was tipsy. It shouldn’t be hard.”

“Thanks, but no.” Hazel held the door for her friend. “If he can’t accept me being a witch, then I didn’t need him to begin with.”

Irene winked at her. “It would be fun to have a romp in the hay with him, though. Admit it, Hazel. The man’s hot!”

Hazel fanned herself. “Oh, he’s definitely that!”

“See you later. Are we still on for the Halloween party?”

“I guess. As long as I’m back by midnight. I’m going to try a spell that’s supposed to draw its power from the Witching Hour on Halloween night. That way, maybe I won’t mess it up with my weird energy.”

“Okie dokie. I’ll pick you up at six.”

“See you tonight.”

Hazel Montgomery closed the door and walked to the kitchen of her small, but homey, apartment. Okay, homey was probably too kind a word. Maybe it was just crowded. It consisted of two rooms: one that tripled as a kitchen/living room/bedroom, and one bathroom. Her sofa pulled out into a bed, and there was one recliner. She didn’t have room for anything else other than a coffee table, but it was still hers.

Sort of. She paid three fifty a month for the tiny thing, but it was hers as long as she paid the rent. As long as she had her own place, she could explore the magic she was trying so hard to master.

So far, she was failing miserably at it.

Taking a deep breath, Hazel closed her eyes and cleared her mind. When she opened them, she stared intently at the aluminum pot of boiling herb mixture on her stove.

“Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble…” She sprinkled a pinch of red pepper into the mixture and tried to add a few drops of peanut oil, only she sneezed and missed the pot. The hot burner flamed when the oil splattered onto the coil and singed her arm. She pulled back with a yelp. Oh, well. If it hadn’t exploded now, it probably would have later. She muttered under her breath as she ran cold water over her arm.

Being a witch wasn’t supposed to be this hard!

Hazel filled a goblet with the liquid and looked at her “witch’s brew” before setting it on the coffee table. She wrinkled her nose. It stank. Okay, so it was positively rank. She pulled a tendril of her jet-black hair to her nose. Pee euw!

She needed a bath. Desperately.

After cleaning up the mess in her kitchen, Hazel headed to the bathroom. Stretching as she went, she didn’t watch where she was going and tripped over her shoe -- which she had kicked off and left in the middle of the floor -- and hit the little table with her knee before she fell. Grabbing at anything she could to try to break her fall, she knocked the foul-smelling stuff off into her lap. She gave another sharp yelp and pulled her white dress away from her body. Thank goodness there wasn’t much of it, and it had cooled somewhat.

Oh, God! That smelled awful!

She had just gotten to her feet when someone knocked on the door. Thinking it was Irene -- the woman always forgot something -- Hazel simply flung open the door as she picked up the goblet from the floor. When she stood, she got the surprise of her life.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Hybrid: Dox by Ruth D. Kerce

Hybrid: Dox by Ruth D. Kerce

Hybrid: Dox

by Ruth D. Kerce

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-498-6

Genre(s): Futuristic, Hot Flashes

Theme(s): Shapeshifters

Series: Hybrid

Length: Hot Flash


In this relationship, he's the fox. Literally.

Dox -- part fox, part dog, part sexy man -- is a Hybrid, a shapeshifter, a quasi-human. And an engineer in the International Pod Program. Dox does what feels good, in bed and out, with no excuses or apologies.

Dr. Gabriella Matson, his mission boss, is a communications specialist and all woman. She loves Dox's sexual wildness, for he serves all her erotic needs.

When space debris threatens their pod, they must work together to survive. They've formed a strong bond and know that only their love and trust will save them.

Hybrid: Dox

Ruth D. Kerce

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Ruth D. Kerce

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.

At the sound of the alarm, Dr. Matson came running. She'd been in the control room when the space junk entered their sector and flew past. She peered into the cramped maintenance hole. "Dox! We've been hit by debris! The engines are overheating! The pod's going to blow!" She saw his muscled arm among the machinery, but nothing more of him. He'd wedged himself between the fueling regenerators.

"Get to the escape module!" he shouted back at her. Urgency and determination laced his voice, followed by a few choice muffled words.

"Not without you!" The two of them had come up in this pod, and the two of them were going down.

Dox's arm disappeared, and she saw a bit of bronze fluff appear close to the gray, tiled floor. He'd shapeshifted into his Hybrid form -- part dog, part fox. In his smaller shape, he'd be able to move more easily between the tightly-packed equipment, but his dexterity would be severely limited until he shifted back.

"You can't fix it!"

The pod's alarm blared. "Evacuate. All personnel evacuate. Explosion is imminent." The computerized female voice repeated the message in a loud, continuous monotone.

She heard a pop and sparks flew from a control panel beside her head. "Oh!" She jerked back, raising her arm to protect her face. Before all power failed, she rushed over to a second panel and activated the escape module, which once online operated off an independent power source. "Get out of there, Dox! That's an order!"

Now was not the time for heroics. Damn Hybrids thought they were invincible. The Hybrid Project -- a scientific experiment involving accelerated evolution to create a new species of quasi-humans -- had turned out to be one of mankind's greatest successes. And her greatest frustration since joining the International Pod Program.

The second generation Hybrids were exceptionally arrogant, in her opinion. At least the males. Female scientists in the program had to be excessively strong-willed to handle a male Hybrid match.

The alarm shut off and the unexpected silence threw her off balance. She looked up at the information panels. "Now what?" she whispered. The screens flickered, and she held her breath, expecting the worst.

"Explosion averted," the computerized voice announced. "Engines are stable."

As the readings returned to normal, she released a stress-filled sigh. "Thank goodness." Her relief was so great that she had to work hard to keep her legs from buckling. She'd thought for sure they were dead. She took the escape module offline, not wanting to waste its power in case they needed it later. "Dox?"

Suddenly, he stood in front of her. All six feet of muscled man. His brown hair, with streaks of bronze, looked ruffled and sexy. A smile graced his face, showing his dimples and straight white teeth to perfection. "I knew I could do it." His light brown eyes flashed at her. "That was close."

Her relief turned to frustration. She pointed a finger at him. "You disobeyed a direct order."

"Yeah. And?"

His response struck her speechless. But only for a heartbeat. Then she felt her temper boil. "Damn it, Dox!"

He chuckled and grabbed her around the waist. "Lighten up, Gabriella." He twirled her around until she finally relaxed and smiled. "Everything worked out."

"Okay, okay." She patted his chest. "Put me down." When he lowered her to the ground, sliding her down his muscular body, she felt his cock press against her stomach. Her smile faded. "Geez."

"I can't help it. We barely escaped a disaster. I'm wired." He smacked her ass. "Let's fuck off some energy."

Sex was not a requirement in a Hybrid match, though a nice bonus if matched with someone not only emotionally compatible, but physically compatible as well. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"It's pretty much always in my top three, yeah." He nuzzled her neck.

Her resistance waned as sensation after sensation rippled down her body. "Unfair. You know that makes me tingle all over."

"Yeah, I know," he whispered.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

The Taming of Taylon by Leila Brown

The Taming of Taylon by Leila  Brown

The Taming of Taylon

by Leila Brown

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-493-1

Genre(s): Paranormal, Sci-Fi

Theme(s): Vampires, Shapeshifters, Dark Desire

Length: Novella

For the price of their blood -- and their sex -- the Changelings protect the inhabitants of Chimera from things far worse than the denizens of this backwoods planet could ever imagine.

When Taylon is captured and sent to participate in the Gathering, her first thought is to fight. And she has the means -- unlike the natives of Chimera she's capable of resisting the compulsions used by these giant Vampiric Werecats. But how can she resist the seduction of the most handsome man -- Changeling -- she's ever seen? Can she survive four weeks at his mercy -- and not want to stay forever?

The Taming of Taylon

Leila Brown

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Leila Brown

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.

Taylon stared as a brazen woman pulled her shift down, baring her nipples. Did she have no pride? Apparently not.

These women were just a means to an end, a snack for the savages hosting the Gathering. The Changelings would gorge themselves on the essence of the innocents before indulging their sexual appetites and sending the women home. Until the next gathering.

Taylon stood at the inner circle, surrounded by an outer ring of the most shameless women. She swallowed the lump of disgust lodged in her throat as she watched them flaunt their bodies at the creatures.

A yelp pierced the air in the large round hall, bouncing off the marble floor and walls. Taylon turned her head to watch the woman screeching and giggling as one of the creatures swooped her up and carried her from the room. One slut down. Too bad there were so many left to go. She cared little for them. If they thought to seek their pleasure in an animal's embrace so be it.

But the others were an entirely different matter.

Her hands shook as she smoothed out the wrinkles in the dress. The fine spider silk felt foreign beneath her fingers. Catching herself, she balled her fist. The dress was useless. The semitransparent material showed more than it hid. Looking down, she swore she saw the dark pink of her nipples. The creatures only dressed them this way to see what they were choosing.

Taylon braced her legs apart and assumed a fighting stance. She would protect the girls behind her. The girls were scared. Like her, this was their first Gathering, and just like her they did not want to be here. They were innocents. Unmarried women of breeding age had no choice. All women who attained the age of maturity on this backwoods planet were subject to Gatherings. Until they married. Or unless they hid really well.

Each whimper behind her shored up her courage. The girls were scared. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her own fear away. She would protect them, for as long as she could. Why had she let her sister pick a planet they hadn't researched first?

She watched the circling males close in around the women like jaws closing on a desired meal. One of the smaller creatures broke away from the pack and sauntered her way.

His blond hair hung just below his shoulders. He stood almost a head shorter than the other males, but it was his only physical defect. His muscular legs filled the tight black pants, and his chest showed creamy perfection through the opening of his blue vest. "Hello, little one. Do you think to protect all of these beauties?" He chuckled. "You are such a small thing."

His words rolled off Taylon without generating so much as a ripple of a response. She could hear the compulsion in his voice. Feel his desire for her to submit to him. What she didn't feel was a need to obey him. Especially not with the insult he'd just dealt her. She was only a bit shorter than him. He was about to learn that she didn't take insults lightly. "Fuck off." Her lips curled into a sneer. It would be his only warning.

The creature backed away, his golden eyes never leaving hers. A smile of pure pleasure graced her lips. Whoever chose her was in for a nasty little shock. A human who could stand unaffected by the creatures' call. Such a thing was unheard of, or at least it was to them.

Most of them would probably like to see her dead, but that was impossible. Humans were protected, and killing one was a deadly offense. It had been so for over five hundred years, since the last Great War, when monster fought monster with humans caught in the middle. Humans were now so rare each life was a treasured commodity. Besides, if they killed the humans, where would they get the blood they craved? Most of them would give her a wide berth.

Or at least she hoped so.

If that damn interplanetary gate -- to her it looked more like an archway -- hadn't broken down after she and Kylie arrived, they would have turned around immediately and gone back to the Andromeda Waiting Station. This trip had cost them all of their saved credits, but they could work to earn more.

Taylon shook her head to let go of the what ifs. She needed to deal with the reality in front of her. She stood defiant as she stared out into a sea of glowing eyes. Beasts. Beautiful beasts, each and every one. Faces that rivaled those carved from exquisite porcelain lined the walls of the hall.

She wasn't stupid, though. The handsome faces didn't fool her. Strip away the well muscled human exteriors and she would find the true beast lurking close to the surface.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Built For Lust by Alice Gaines

Built for Lust by Alice  Gaines

Read an excerpt

Built for Lust

by Alice Gaines

Cover art: Angela Knight
ISBN: 978-1-60521-477-1
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Werewolves
Length: Novella

Cara Logan is a lone wolf, literally -- a werewolf female unwilling to submit to either a human or a wolven mate. An expert in electronics and engineering, Cara builds herself a mate she can turn on and off at will. Only somehow, Gray becomes real, and not only can he satisfy her as a wolf, he can shift to human and perform that way, too. Now, she has to accept that she's mated to a male with a mind of his own, and the two of them have to find their places in her pack.
Built for Lust

Alice Gaines

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Alice Gaines

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 lays went, this one wasn't bad, but Cara Logan wouldn't write sonnets to his performance any time soon. What was his name? Oh yeah, Jeff. Jeff had a thick tool, and he moved it in a pounding rhythm in and out of her pussy. He'd lasted for a while now and didn't show any sign of quitting. She ought to love it. She ought to have come two or three times by now.

Straining for more friction, she clamped her inner muscles around him. Good. Good, but she needed better.

"Shit, you make me hot." He groaned into her ear. "Come for me, baby. I want to feel it."

For a moment, her mind went off in a wild direction. The forest, the smell of pine, a tendril of musk in the air. A mate nearby, already heated for the rut. The promise of a rough tongue to lap between her legs in greeting.

No, not the wolf, not even in her imagination. She could tame the human. Control him, make him safe. If only she could climax with him.

"I'm going to fuck you hard," he said. "I'm going to fuck your wet pussy."

Jeff. Back to reality. This was getting ridiculous. He couldn't last forever, and when he finished, he'd leave her aroused and empty.

"Me on top," she ordered.

He didn't seem to hear but kept driving into her. The poor bastard had lost control and would come any minute.

"Me on top." She followed that with a low growl.

The sound penetrated even his state of full arousal. He opened his eyes and stared at her. "Hey, what the..."

His distraction allowed her to flip him onto his back in one motion. In another heartbeat, she grasped his cock and lowered herself onto it.

"When I give an order, I mean it," she snarled.

"Holy shit, you're... what the hell are you?" he said.

Probably by now, her canines were extended, and her wolven eyes were glowing golden. He'd forget that when he came.

"Shut up and let me ride you," she said.

"What are you?" he gasped.

"I'm the alpha bitch who's going to give you the best fucking orgasm of your life." Enough talk. Clasping his cock with her pussy, she pushed herself up and down, back and forth, taking his rod deep inside her. Instead of fighting her, he thrust upward to meet her, and soon they were going madly at each other. Both lost in their own pleasure, their own rising need. She tweaked her nipples with just the right pressure to send a charge down to her clit.

But, shit, she still wouldn't come without imagining the wolf inside her. With no choice, she let her fantasy free. She was running through the woods at top speed, every leap and stride creating friction between her legs. Each jostle of her clit sent her closer to orgasm. In the real world, Cara reached to where the human slammed up into her and found the hardened bud. As she stroked it, her vision made her run even harder and faster. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see the trees and ferns swoosh by her. Neither could she stop, because the male would catch her. He'd force himself inside her and claim her. When she howled in orgasm, he'd own her. She couldn't let that happen, but he was bigger and stronger. And faster. She couldn't win.

Beneath her, the human male stiffened. He'd empty his lust inside her in a moment. She worked her clit furiously now, rubbing and flicking her fingers over it. At the final moment, the male wolf caught her. Holding her with a bite at the back of her neck, he threw his huge, gray body over her. His cock slammed home just as the climax washed over her. In her fantasy, they howled together, heads thrown back. In reality, only her own song went up, filling the room. The man beneath her grunted and then let out a long "ahhh" as he came. Mission accomplished for both of them, but she still had to fantasize about the wolf to get there.

Jeff relaxed, a silly and very human grin on his face. In a minute, he'd fall asleep. She climbed off him and waited until his breathing went soft before padding, naked, to the bathroom.

After the images of the forest, the light bouncing off the tiles almost blinded her. Somehow, it didn't seem right that a perfectly ordinary woman's face looked back at her out of the mirror. Her eyes had gone back to their normal brown, and her canines had shortened to within the range of normal human possibility. Her wolven self remained just below the surface, though. She could easily go outside and shift and search the darkened town for another of her kind. Even if she didn't find the great gray male, she could find another wolf to take her in the way her body needed. Only then, he'd think he owned her, and he'd track her scent back here and mark the place as his own.

Males. You could reason with the humans -- most of the time, sort of. But only a wolf shifter could fill all your desires. The world sucked sometimes.

The human she'd just had appeared in the doorway. "You left."

"I thought you were asleep."

"I should be after that amazing sex." He walked behind her, pinning her between his body and the sink. "You fucked my brains out."

"Glad you liked it."

"Like? Oh, baby." He ran his hands over her ribs and cupped her breasts. "Thinking about it could make me hard again."

She rubbed her ass against him but didn't find a bulge. "I don't think you're ready."

He nibbled at her neck. "Maybe if you sucked on it for a while."

She turned around and pushed him away. "Look, Jeff..."


"I'm sorry, Jim." Now came the difficult part. Telling him to go the hell away. Nicely, of course.

"It was really great. You're an incredible lover."

"You inspire me."

He tried to pull her into his embrace, but she held him off. "I don't do seconds."

His smile faltered. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm kind of a lone wolf." Oh boy, was she.

"That howl." His brows wrinkled. "I remember that now."

"Anything else?" She held her breath waiting for his answer.

He was silent for a moment. "Only that noise you made when you came. It must have been good for you, or you wouldn't have let loose with that noise."

"It was." She didn't mention that she wouldn't have climaxed at all without her fantasy. Some things were private, even if you stood naked in your bathroom with a man you'd just screwed.

"You must want more of that," he said.

"We met in a club." She shrugged. "Club rules. You have a good time. You say good-bye. End of story."

"Yeah, well." He stepped away from her, dropping his arms. "As brush-offs go, I guess that's a gentle one."

"I'm sorry, Jim. I'm not the right woman for you." Or wolf.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay. I'm tail lights. You change your mind, you know what club to look in for me."


She stood, hugging herself while he went back into the bedroom. He moved around in there while he found his clothes and got into them. Without another word, he went into the hallway. When her front door opened and closed, she let out the breath she'd been holding.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Bloody or Nothing: Bottoms Up by Kate Hill

Bloody or Nothing: Bottoms Up by Kate  Hill

Bloody or Nothing: Bottoms Up

by Kate Hill

Cover art: Zuri

ISBN: 978-1-60521-383-5

Genre(s): Paranormal

Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Vampires

Series: Bloody or Nothing

Length: Novella


Dana travels to Las Vegas to help a sister in trouble and discovers a vampire underground she never dreamed existed. For the first time in her life she unleashes her repressed passions with two very different men.
An ancient vampire of youthful beauty, Rory lives according to his rules. As a mortal, his love for another man had nearly cost him his life. Now he's a much-loved vampire master. When he saves Dana from an assault, they recognize each other as kindred souls and enter a relationship stronger than friendship and deeper than lust. Then another man arrives who drives them both to distraction.
Handsome and rugged, Jason has spent the past two centuries overcoming the degradation of his mortal life. Used and abused, bought and sold, he had no real identity until a vampire gave him a new life. Now while fighting against an evil reign, he is tempted by a fledgling vampiress and a man he has desired for two centuries. By denying his bisexual nature, he might destroy the greatest love of his life.
Bloody or Nothing: Bottoms Up

Kate Hill

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 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.

"Just take it easy," said a deep yet sweet male voice.

Dana's first thought was that she had died and gone to heaven because surely an angel would sound like this.

Though she lay on damp pavement, her head rested against something soft and warm. She realized it was the angel's hand, but why would an angel feel so... human?

Her eyes opened, but took a few seconds to focus on the handsome young man leaning over her. He had large blue eyes accentuated with black liner and rimmed with long, thick lashes most women would envy. Wavy auburn hair bound into a tail hung over one muscular shoulder, left exposed by a black mesh tank top.

"Somebody attacked me."

"Yeah. The guy ran off when he saw me. Are you all right?"

"I think so." She sounded almost as weak as she felt.

Her rescuer helped her sit up and when she tried to stand he gently pressed a hand to her shoulder. "Sit for a minute," he said. "I think you should see a doctor."

"No, I'll be okay... I think." Dana closed her eyes for a moment. She tried to remember what happened. Brief images of her attacker flashed across her mind and she trembled. "He tried to bite me! What a nut! I think he had fangs. Must have been one of those freaks who pretend they're vampires."

"Yeah. Probably." This time when she tried to stand, he gently grasped her arm and helped her to her feet. He placed a steadying arm around her and she realized that while he wasn't particularly tall -- probably five nine or ten -- his slender body was rock hard. He had the body of a dancer, or maybe a gymnast.

With every breath, she inhaled the wonderful aroma of his citrus cologne. Toward the end of the alley, streetlights brightened their way and she noted he was even more handsome out of the shadows. He had a square jaw and high cheekbones dusted with a hint of blush. Despite the makeup, he possessed an aura of masculinity. One look at the respectable bulge in the front of his snug faded jeans showed that whatever his sexual preference, in body he was all man. His dusky pink nipples shone beneath his mesh shirt and Dana also detected the glitter of silver piercings. She absolutely loved nipple piercings on guys.

"Where are you staying?" he asked.

"I... I'm not sure. What I mean is, I just got to Las Vegas and I haven't checked into a hotel yet. Actually I'm on my way to Bloody or Nothing. My sister mentioned it and --"

"That's a coincidence. I'm staying there."

A chill rippled down her spine. Now that she had gotten her bearings again, she realized she had no idea who this man was. For all she knew, he could be as dangerous as the one who'd attacked her.

"Bloody or Nothing has a very good hotel doctor. It wouldn't be a bad idea if he looked you over."

"Thanks for your help, but I'll find my own way from here," she said, tugging away from him.

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "The hotel is just across the street." He pointed and she glanced toward the tall, dark building that looked more like a Moorish palace than a modern day hotel.

Her sister had mentioned Bloody or Nothing in her letters over the past two years, which was why Dana wanted to check in there. It seemed the best place to look for Mira.

Dana's phone calls to her sister had gone unanswered over the past few days. Their last conversation had been quite disturbing, so Dana had decided to take a plane to Las Vegas to see for herself that Mira was all right.

"What's your sister's name?"

She was about to reply, then narrowed her eyes and asked, "What's your name?" After all, she knew nothing about him, except that he'd saved her life.

"Rory," he replied and smiled at her. "And you?"


His smile faded and his smooth brow furrowed. "Are you Mira's sister?"

"You know her?"

"Yes, of course. She'd been trying to contact you for two days."

"Then she's okay?"

"Yes. She's staying here at the hotel. I'll have the front desk clerk call her for you. She's going to be so relieved to see you."

She'll be relieved? Yet another strange feeling swept over her. Was this too much of a coincidence?

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Full Moon Rising by Lia Connor

Full Moon Rising by Lia  Connor

Read an excerpt

Full Moon Rising

by Lia ConnorCover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-59596-255-3
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage, Werewolves, BBW
Series: The Pack

Dashika McMartin never expected running a Pack would be an easy proposition. Even with her two mates, Adam and Jake, by her side, she was aware there would be problems. She'd just never counted on a difficulty like Amber.

Amber, who's grown strong enough in her power to walk as a human underneath the full moon. Amber, with a lust medicine that drives men wild. Dashika has no choice but to cast her out of the Pack before they all lose their minds.

Thing is, that's just fine with Amber. She's headed to Las Vegas where she can ply her magic for good, not evil. She'll be a Lone Wolf, but she can handle that. She's a big girl.

Once again, though, life hands our heroine what she least expects. Two werewolf men of her own, who are bent on mating with Amber. Can Amber face up to the challenge of two dominants, one of whom possesses the same magic she does?

Come on, come on, come and get some…
Full Moon Rising
Lia Connor
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2006 Lia Connor

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.

Out in the desert, a wolf galloped underneath a bright full moon.

Sand shifted beneath his massive paws. It would have sent a lesser creature skittering down like a clumsy puppy, but not Rashaun Proud Foot. Half as tall as a human male, but far more powerful, he ran as if he had been born to race over the rise and fall of the Nevada ground. He yipped a laugh. Native to this barren plain? Not him! But it was where he belonged. He felt right there.

Rashaun lifted his muzzle and howled. The night was a gloriously bold one, and it all belonged to him. Yipping in delight, he took off across a rolling set of shallow hillocks, chasing Brother Snake. He was too clever to be caught, Rashaun was, and he didn’t fear the venom. The slithering thing would make a great entertainment!

God, he loved danger. The way it felt when he dipped his paws into waters he shouldn’t dampen his fur with. Every forbidden fruit was sweeter just because someone had, once upon a time, said “no”. If that person offered the fragrant apple to Rashaun? Rashaun said “yes!” and bit deep with his sharp white teeth.

The pack that had cast him out? Screw them. He was too much Alpha for them to handle. Let them send him away to a place where no wolves should exist, to chase after the lizards and basking sun-creatures for his food during the Moon Times.

Rashaun casually stopped in his chase, letting Snake slither away. It seemed glad to go, disappearing behind a scraggly cactus. Even the angry rattler had known what chased him wasn’t worth putting up a fight over. No one stood up to Rashaun!

Stretching out every strong, bulky muscle in his wolf’s body, Rashaun lifted his legs one after another, then planted them in the sand. He raised his muzzle to the moon and howled again just for the pleasure of hearing the noise echo across the low dunes.

Then, easily as breathing, he shifted back into the form of a mortal man. Dark as espresso chocolate, and he looked twice as sweet, he knew. His hair had been carefully braided into dozens of tiny plaits, each one tipped with a bead of bone. He was naked, just like always after the Change, but who cared? Not him. He could always shower off the sand when he got back to his small apartment. Rolling his head in the sand, he grinned sharply. Life had dealt him a great hand, and he played each card to the fullest.

Life was so much better now that he was his own master.

They had thought they could get rid of him, those of the Texas pack? A lot they knew! He’d been the one to say goodbye to them, turning up his tail. He was beta to no one. Better to be Lone than to bow his head to another. For one who possessed the power of the Heat, there was no scraping in obedience. Rashaun was Master of the Lust Spirits, and an Alpha among the wolves. No one was his equal -- that he had yet to meet, anyway. And so, he led a solitary existence. Mostly.

Rashaun rubbed his cheeks thoughtfully, feeling the slight bristle that told him he’d need to shave. Has to look his best. He had company on the way.

See, he told himself, Lone or not, a man can’t go the rest of his life without a little company. He got bored. There were times when even a solitary Alpha wanted a Lupa. Even Rashaun. And if what the winds were telling him was right…

He chuckled, amused at the luck of his draw. Fortunately for him, the lady he’d been looking for all his life was coming right his way. A woman of fire and passion. Someone who held many of the same powers as he did, and bested him in dozens of others. Oh, but they’d have a grand fight out on the barren sands. He licked his lips, eagerly anticipating the battle of tooth and paw, and then the sweeter taste of her pussy when she understood him better.

Did he fear the woman? Yes. Did he need her? Against his better wishes, he did. Did he want her? With all his might!

Lucky, lucky him. He’d thought he would be Lone all his life, and he’d looked forward to it until the magics had told him she’d be on her way. Soon.

Now, all he had to do was make himself ready…

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

AOEM: Dinner for Three by Camille Anthony

Agency of Extraordinary Mates: Dinner for Three by Camille  Anthony

Read an excerpt

Agency of Extraordinary Mates: Dinner for Three

by Camille AnthonyCover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-59596-208-9
Genre(s): Paranormal, Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage, Vampires, Werewolves, BBW, Agency of Extraordinary Mates
Series: Agency of Extraordinary Mates Multi-Author
Length: Novel

Locked out of her office by her business partners, an overworked and rundown Michelle Rios accepts a vacation to Chimera Island to escape unwanted mothering. She's not looking for love, though she'd love a taste of the two hunky chefs she used to watch on the gourmet channel. Rumor has it they've retired to the mysterious island.

Twin brothers Jonathan and Jason Corelli run Chimera Island’s best restaurant. Naturally, they’re not human. One a Vampire, the other a Werewolf, they’ve been cursed by a meddlesome Sorcerer. According to the Sorcerer, the woman who completes them is soon to arrive on Chimera. She alone can help them break the sorcerer's curse.

The Corelli twins come as a package deal. For some women, that might be a problem, but Michelle’s up to the challenge. She’s willing to let them wine and dine her for two weeks, tempting her with a sensual feast of prime loin, and whetting her hunger for a double-decker sandwich ala Corelli, but is this workaholic ready to give up the “Real World” she left behind for two extraordinary men?

Publisher's note: This title is available in print. Visit our Books in Print page for more information.
A.O.E.M.: Dinner For Three
Camille Anthony
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Camille Anthony
An Authorized Excerpt

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 sorcerer looked up from his packing, his bushy white beard almost obscuring his wary smile. “Gentlemen, you just caught me. One more day and I would have been gone!”

“Gone? Slunk away, more like!”

“You were right, Jonathan! He was planning to pull a funk and leave us suffering this travesty of a life!”

His eyebrows rose at the anger he heard in their voices. “To what do I owe this rudeness? The last I knew, you were happily embarked upon a lifetime of eternal existence. Isn’t that what you asked for? ‘The freedom from worrying over our imminent death,’ is how you put it, I believe.”

Both men spoke at once, their words tumbling over themselves.

“We didn’t want this! We didn’t ask to be turned into a Vampire and a Werewolf! This isn’t what we sought when we asked for the surety of long life.”

“We’re chefs, damn it! How the hell can I run a restaurant or season a dish when I’m on a liquid diet?”

“All we wanted was a normal life, eventually a wife and children.”

The sorcerer crossed his arms and stared at the two tall men confronting him. He was impressed by their dogged determination in locating him again. After all, he hadn’t made it easy this time around. “You did not seek normalcy. No normal man has the assurance of life. They all roll the dice and more times than not, roll craps.”

“What you gave us was so far away from normal, the two cannot be compared! You cheated us!”

A resigned sigh lifted the slight chest of the elderly magicker. “Jonathan Jason Corelli, how have you lived this many years and still not learned who and what you are?”

Black hair, golden eyes, broad shoulders and long lean limbs -- the twins were more than identical, more than mirror images of the other. They were one. And they didn’t know it.

“Your mother, whom I once knew and loved -- she’s why I granted your first petition, by the way -- tried to tell you the truth. Your father wouldn’t listen and allowed the doctors to perform that obscene operation upon you. Now, it appears you are as stubborn as he.”

“Our mother,” one twin snarled, “hasn’t been seen since our tenth birthday.”

“If we’d known you knew her, we’d have had nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, you think to pick and choose between sorcerers, then? You know so many of us? Foolish mortal! You play with that which you do not know and cannot comprehend!”

“Please, just take the curses back.”

“Curses?” The sorcerer couldn’t believe the pig-headedness of the split person before him. “I granted you a boon. If cursed you be, it is of your own making. Still, you are not satisfied. Therefore, I will do this one thing for you… I will give you a spell to eat. When you partake of it, say the couplet I will teach you. No longer will you, Jonathan, be forced to live a life in darkness. As for you, Jason, the moon will no longer rule over your flesh.”

He made them the potion and jotted the words down on a scrap of paper. The two read the poem and eyed the twin bottles askance. “Can it be this simple?” the Werewolf asked.

“Of course not,” the mage laughed, glad to see they were not as simple as he had begun to fear. Perhaps they would solve the riddle and win their freedom. “To truly end what you deem your curse, you must find the one person who completes you.”

“Is there such a woman in the world, who could mate with the two of us? If she exists, where would we ever find a woman willing to love a Werewolf and a Vampire and accept us both as husbands?” The gold of Jason’s eyes shimmered with the tears he would not allow to fall.

“Oh, she exists, all right. She is almost ready for you.”

“I suppose,” snarled the Vampire, his face twisted in a sneer, “you’ll have some obscure, arcane excuse for not being able to tell us where we should look for such a paragon.”

“On the contrary, I can tell you exactly where you need to be.”

It took the twins a moment to realize he didn’t plan to tell them a thing.

“Well?” Jason asked finally.

“Well… what?” the sorcerer echoed, a wisp of playfulness causing him to tease the uptight duo.

“I thought you were going to tell us where we need to be.”

“Actually, I said I could tell you, not that I would.”

“I’m going to kill him, Jason!” The Vampire flashed fangs and rushed at the older man.

“I think not, young firebrand.” A waved hand, a word of power rang out. Jonathan froze in place, one foot in the air, clawed hands outstretched toward prey he would never reach.

“No!” Jason’s cry of denial rose above the spires of the mountain. “Release him!”

“In due time…” Tired of dealing with the two hotheads, he decided to end this current interaction. He had places to go and people to see. “Listen to me. I will give you the information you want in exchange for permission…”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve tricked us before. How do we know you won’t do so, again?”

The sorcerer shrugged. “I have not tricked you. You simply didn’t pay strict attention to the actual wording of your request or the exact interpretation I used in granting it.” He waved away Jason’s sputtered retort. “No matter. As of today, I am retired. The only thing I wish of you is permission to court your mother.”

“What?” Jonathan’s bellow penetrated the bubble of stasis erected around him.

Jason’s voice was ice cold when he answered. “Our mother is a free agent. Father divorced her years ago in absentia. You don’t need our permission or approval.”

“Courtesy and tradition demand it.” The wise man shook his head. “What is the youth of today coming to? Oh well, a bargain is a bargain. When the time is right, you will find your mate on Chimera Island.”

Monday, September 20, 2010

Taking Chance Collection by L. Shannon

Taking Chance (Collection)

by L. Shannon

Cover art: Reneé George

ISBN: 978-1-60521-309-5

Genre(s): Paranormal, Dark Fantasy, Collections

Theme(s): Ménage, Dark Desire, Gay and Lesbian

Length: Collection

Trapped in an ice cave and nearly frozen to death, Josh's only hope was the demon sent to claim him. Now Chance can't get Josh out of his mind. What was meant to be a one-night stand between a demon and the mortal he was sent to claim has turned into something more. Chance has got to regain control -- even if it means presenting his mortal lover with the perfect gift -- one hunk of an ex wrapped in cuffs and a red leather bow.
Taking Chance

L. Shannon

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 L. Shannon

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.

I'm going to freeze to death on this bloody mountain.

Josh's teeth chattered. He rubbed his gloved hands together to restore feeling. The small hole he'd managed to dig through the snow up to the surface was covered over again. A half dozen pokes with his ski pole and the snow gave way, opening up the thin air hole once more. The problem was all he had was one tiny air hole and not a prayer of being found.

Not that he'd bothered to pray. What would be the point? He was going to die. Josh sank back onto his frozen ass, folding his body to hold the heat as long as he could.

"Shit, shit, shit." He stood up again, stomping across the small snow cave. "I don't want to die!" His angry voice cracked as it bounced back and forth in the small space. Some snow broke off one wall, reminding him how precarious his shelter was.

"Josh Franklin?" a voice echoed down from above the snow.

Saved? He was saved! "I'm here! I'm Josh Franklin!"

"Back up as far as you can." The words were quiet, almost as if the guy was whispering.

Josh backed up away from the small air hole, which had begun to shed dustings and small chunks of snow. Then what was falling wasn't snow at all, but water, dripping to the cave floor.

"Hey!" What the hell was this guy thinking? Any second the five plus feet of snow would collapse and crush him and possibly his rescuer too.

But it wasn't snow, or even water, that came down. It was red and gold light. Josh held up one hand to block the glare even while he squinted to see the man standing at the center of the glow. "I'm being saved by an angel?"

The gorgeous guy snorted. "Fuck that. I'm no angel and you haven't been good enough to rate an angel anyhow. Only thing you got right is I'm here for you."

"What do you want?" He dropped his hand when the light dimmed, revealing a very sexy man whose skin continued to glow the color of a warm, cozy fire.

"You're about to die on this damn mountain. I plan to heat your ass up before I take you --" he pointed to the floor of the snow cave, "-- down."

Excerpt from A Snowball's Chance

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Protect and Serve 1: Badge Bunny by Cynthia Sax

Protect and Serve: Badge Bunny

by Cynthia Sax

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-476-4

Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire

Theme(s): Shapeshifters, BBW, Men and Women in Uniform

Series: Protect and Serve

Length: Novella
My name is Officer Drake. I'm genetically enhanced to be the best damn policeman there is. I can snap a werewolf in two. I can outrun a car. That's not boasting. Those are the facts.

I'm designed to protect and serve, and when I spot a plush little bunny shifter by the name of Hunny Lapin, that is exactly what I do. I protect her from a strip club owning vampire and serve up her every desire in bed. 'Course, that lands me in a whole heap of trouble, but it's nothing I can't handle. I'm a supercop, remember?

Protect and Serve: Badge Bunny

Cynthia Sax

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Cynthia Sax

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.

"When was the last time you got laid, Drake?" This is my partner's idea of clever conversation. Shoot me now. To clarify, that isn't partner in the sexual sense. Hell no, I don't swing that way and even if I did, I'd never be that desperate. We're cops. Wright's got my back, most times, when he isn't juggling two exotic dancers on his lap.

When was the last time I got laid? When was the last time Wright groped a waist wider than a toothpick? Two dancers are needed to fill up the man's lap. I eye their skinny bodies with disinterest. It would take five of those chicks to satisfy my larger appetite.

I'm a big guy. I prefer to play with women my own size. That means yummy mommies with hand-filling curves, not little girls with pokey elbows and ribs I can count.

"Fuck off, Wright." I sip my scotch. The other undiscerning dickheads come here after hours for the tits and ass. I come here for the drinks. The Fox Hole doesn't water down their alcohol like other strip bars do.

"There's your answer." Sarge laughs like a hyped-up hyena shifter. Before you give him respect he doesn't deserve, his rank isn't sergeant. The asshole just acts like one, barking out orders any sensible cop will ignore if he wants to stay alive. "You know, Drake, you'd get lucky more often if you didn't act like such a scary son-of-a-bitch." Sarge pats down his lap mate. I've seen him handle his gun with more passion than he's touching his nearly nude stripper. "Hell, even the badge bunnies leave you alone, and they'll do anyone in uniform."

I grunt at his piss poor advice. It doesn't warrant a proper response, and for your information, I don't act. I am a scary son-of-a-bitch -- genetically enhanced to be the best damn policeman there is. I can snap a werewolf in two -- those furry buggers are notoriously hard to subdue. I can outrun a car, even one jacked up on rocket fuel. I sniff the recycled air. I can smell strawberries in a room full of sweat, pussy, and cum.

I turn my head slightly. There she is. Golden brown hair frames a round face dominated by a pair of big brown eyes and a twitching nose. That's a woman. Hunny Lapin -- despite her porn star name -- is everything I consider fresh and clean and wholesome. What's she doing here? I have no idea. I've seen her before so I know she isn't lost.

She sure doesn't fit in though. Why? She's fully clothed, for one. Her plush body is clad in a fluffy pink sweater and a knee-length skirt. For another, she starts at every loud noise. This is ridiculous as she's in a strip bar, not a library. The tone-deaf DJ throws on a new hip-hop song and she jumps. Naked bodies smack together as they tend to do in strip bars and she trembles. Krag Fox's men holler at each other, and she flinches.

Meatheads are positioned at all doors tonight. Someone is in deep shit. I'd step in and ensure this someone doesn't die a slow and painful death in one of the vamp's backrooms. But this is the Fox Hole. Anyone here I'll end up either arresting or killing. Fox, bless his non-beating heart, is simply doing my job for me.

The scent of strawberries intensifies and a wave of horniness engulfs me. Hunny is hurrying this way. She doesn't glide like some high-class chicks do. She bounces and all body parts -- I drop my gaze -- I mean all body parts bounce with her. Damn, she has a fine pair of breasts. I lick my lips, hungry for a taste.

Some men claim that more than a handful is a waste. I think they're full of shit. The bigger, the better, and Hunny's pair are at the top of my big breast list. They're even finer because they're real. One blast of cold air and those nipples can be listed as deadly weapons. They also jiggle when she jiggles, which is what she was doing now. I'd sit back and enjoy the show except every so often she fervently glances behind her at Fox's approaching goons. The girl is in trouble. Help me, she mouths. Those brown eyes widen with fear.

This is none of my damn business. I recognize that. I don't know her and if she messed with Fox bad enough to warrant a death sentence, she can't be as sweet and innocent as she appears. But I'm trained to protect, and Hunny needs my protecting. The cop genes kick in. I pull her onto my lap so she straddles me – panty-covered pussy to pant-covered cock. I grow hard 'cause I'm human. Soft angora rubs against my face. The pastel pink sweater, as nice as it feels, unfortunately has to go. Fox's men can spot it a mile away. I yank it upward over her head and drop it on the permanently sticky floor.

"Whoa, Drake." Wright gawks at me, his big mouth open. "It was just a suggestion. I didn't expect you to get laid right here."

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Mating Season 1: Imperial Command by Anne Kane

Mating Season 1: Imperial Command

by Anne Kane

Cover art: Reneé George

ISBN: 978-1-60521-330-9

Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Sci-Fi

Theme(s): Shapeshifters

Series: Mating Season

Length: Novella

When a flitter-craft crash lands near Gregory's lair, the Imperial were-panther doesn't expect to find an unconscious female dangling from the captain's harness. Danika is stubborn, feisty and in her first heat cycle.

Claiming Danika as his bond-mate is complicated by the reptilian cyborg who's been sent to return her to her father's estate, and an ex-fiancé who just won't take no for an answer.

Gregory's life is about to get interesting...

Mating Season: Imperial Command

Anne Kane

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Anne Kane

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.

Gregory circled the downed ship, his blaster held at the ready. The pilot had managed to drop it neatly into the clearing, but an overhanging branch snagged the starboard stabilizer at the last moment and flipped the ship over just before it hit the ground.

Gregory didn't like the looks of that lazy curl of smoke drifting up from the belly of the machine. The thought of a fire this close to his lair made him nervous. The pilot and passengers needed to get out in case those fuel tanks exploded.

There were no territorial markings on the hull, and the scorch marks on the belly indicated a rough passage through the upper atmosphere. He shook his head. What type of idiot would use a flitter shuttle for interplanetary travel? Thumbing the safety on, he holstered the blaster and studied the ship, looking for a way in. The access port to the left looked like his best bet, and he pushed aside the heavy underbrush to make his way toward it.

Grasping the outer handle, he threw his considerable weight against the access port. Slowly, metal screaming in protest, the door began to slide. The recycled air of the shuttle rushed out of the opening, and the scent it carried hit him square in the gut.

A female Were-Panther. Young and in heat.

Hot blood rushed to his groin, stiffening his cock painfully within the tight material of his suit. Ignoring his discomfort, he wrenched the metal hatch cover aside and peered inside. The ship design was simple, and he could see a female form hanging upside down from the safety netting over the pilot's seat. Experience born of too many covert missions caused him to hesitate a few minutes, probing the dark shadows in the corners to make sure there were no other occupants waiting to ambush him.

A low groan drew his attention back to the female. Climbing onto the sloped metal ceiling, he made his way to the center of the bridge, carefully avoiding the debris strewn about during the crash. The woman's lashes fluttered up, and he caught a glimpse of her gorgeous amber eyes. One arm flailed weakly before she lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Gregory ran his hands over her, ignoring the call of her heat cycle while he checked to make sure she hadn't sustained any serious injuries during the rough landing. When he was satisfied it was safe to move her, he wrapped one arm around to hold her steady while he cut away the safety netting. Another groan escaped her lips, and he shifted her to a more comfortable position in his arms. Her full breasts pressed enticingly against his chest, and he gritted his teeth at his body's eager response.

Where had she come from? He didn't recognize her from any of his recent trips to Capital, the were-panthers community on the far side of the planet. And why had she been flying so low over his territory?

Another groan dragged his attention back to the female. Turning, he made his way back to the airlock, the trip more awkward with the woman's weight on his shoulder. Stepping out of the ruined flitter, he paced across the clearing and laid his burden down gently on a soft patch of undergrowth. Her eyes remained closed, and he couldn't help staring at her body, every inch outlined in mouthwatering detail beneath the tight space suit.

She was short, he'd guess barely up to his shoulder, with a thick mane of dark hair restrained in a single braid that fell to her waist. Her scent identified her as one of his own, an Imperial were-panther, but that led to the question of where she had come from and why she was flying around alone while in heat. Her parents should be keeping her safe from the inevitable pack of males that would hone in on the irresistible aroma. Even now, females weren't numerous and were never found running around the Black Planet in an ill-equipped flitter. He doubted the flitter had been sturdy enough to handle flights through the untamed jungle regions of the planet, let alone interstellar flight.

He snapped a couple of saplings off at ground level and laid them on the ground beside the unconscious woman. Selecting some sturdy vines, he wove them around the poles to build a travois. Primitive, but it would be more comfortable for the female than traveling on his shoulders. She didn't wake when he transferred her to the makeshift sled, and that worried him. Grasping the edges of the poles, he headed for his lair, dragging the woman behind him.

Friday, September 17, 2010

IGO: Save for Shardae by RaeLynn Blue

IGO: Save for Shardae by RaeLynn  Blue

Read an excerpt

IGO: Save for Shardae

by RaeLynn Blue
Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-465-8
Genre(s): Futuristic, Action/Adventure, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Interracial, Men and Women in Uniform
Series: IGO
Length: Novella


Charged with escorting three traitorous prisoners to the Titan Penal Outpost, Shardae Simmons doesn't have time for distraction and Zander Reyes is a big distraction. In the male dominant world of the IGO, Shardae must keep up her emotional shields during this mission -- falling in love isn't an option.
Labeled a womanizer and a troublemaker, the last thing Zander Reyes wants is to be assigned to a female sergeant. His father was a captain in the IGO; he has more than his own reputation on the line. The sexy, husky-voiced chief of security Shardae Simmons tests his self-control.
But Shardae and Zander have more than their reputations on the line because those three prisoners have no interest in going to prison quietly -- or at all.

IGO: Save for Shardae

RaeLynn Blue

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 RaeLynn Blue

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.

"At ease, soldier, at ease." Commander Ashe's voice was raw enough to slice skin. "Update me on our progress. We ready to transfer the prisoners?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Shardae set her work pad against her chest. "We've got the A.I. monitoring the configurations for the force fields. We'll rotate every three minutes to avoid someone hacking them. The A.I. will monitor any attempt to access the system by both IGO staff and outsiders."

Commander Ashe nodded. "Sounds good. Did you reconfigure all the IGO fail safes? I don't want anyone overriding my command codes because some techhead forgot to purge the system."

Shardae held back the heated retort pressing against her throat. Of course she'd changed them. These bastards had been IGO. Not only that but they'd been anchored to The Discovery, the same spaceship The Explorer called home. "Yes, ma'am! I've been working on this for a month, ma'am."

"I'm sure you have," Commander Ashe replied, unsmiling. "But none of us are infallible. Check them again."

"Yes, ma'am." Shardae executed a sharp salute, and then headed toward the nearest console.

Halfway there, Commander Ashe called her back. "Simmons." The commander's face seemed distant. "I've just gotten new orders from Captain Reyes." She chewed on her bottom lip. "We're about to get a new driver for our trip to Titan."

Shardae waited silently for the other shoe to drop. Commander Ashe wouldn't speak about IGO business to just anyone -- even her security chief. Not like this --informal with a touch of anxiousness.

"Our new pilot is Zander Reyes."

Zander Reyes! Shardae struggled to keep her expression neutral. Zander was the womanizing pretty boy and spoiled brat of Captain Reyes, Ashe's boss. Having him stationed on their spacecraft meant nothing but drama. Zander being assigned to The Explorer now was horrid timing, but it wasn't a security issue, so Shardae simply nodded.

Commander Ashe's visage had become remarkably unemotional. "And he's going to report directly to you."

Like hell. Pilots were bridge personnel. Shardae battled back a scowl. Feeling the commander's cold green gaze slice through her, she willed herself not to look away.

Commander Ashe waited for her reply. An uneasy quiet rose between them. "Speak freely, Simmons."

"Thank you, ma'am." She did have one question. "Why would you pick me? You have two junior commanders who oversee pilot personnel, ma'am." She didn't have time to babysit the captain's spoiled son. Not with dangerous men to transport to the penal colony.

"Ah." The pulsating blue light on Ashe's earpiece spoke of constant waiting messages, but she ignored them. "We've known each other for a long time. You spent two years under Private Second Class Tate and Sergeant Zigler. You have a stellar record. You're already in charge of the twenty-person security team. You can handle it."

"Yes, ma'am, but it's only going to compromise my time and with the cargo we're carting to the penal colony..."

"I'm a straight shooter," Commander Ashe continued, searching the brightly lit corridor of the force field encased cell, taking in the thin memory-foam bed in each stripped down room. "You're a sharp soldier. I liked how you handled the transport of the prisoners last year. I don't have time to babysit Zander. Neither do my JCs. I'm counting on you to manage him."

Shardae knew she could handle him. She just didn't want to. "Thank you, ma'am," she replied dryly.

"You're one hell of a soldier. Keep Zander on a very close leash," Commander Ashe ordered, with steel back in her words. "Obviously, Captain Reyes saw his son's placement on my ship as something he thinks will -- help." Commander Ashe shook her head. "Just keep Zander out of my hair." Commander Ashe grinned, then caught herself and coughed. "Meet me in my office at 0600 to debrief."

Shardae released a breath. Damn. This was the last thing she needed. She'd seen images of Zander Reyes, had even brushed against him in one of the cafeterias on The Discovery. She was certain he was going to be a big distraction, whether she wanted him or not.

Commander Ashe exited the room.

"Sergeant Simmons?"

"Yes?" She turned to face the voice. Heading directly toward her was a tall, solid man in an ivory two-piece uniform. A scar lined the left side of his face. "Ah, Darryl! Uh, sorry, JC Snow!"

When he reached to shake her hand she saw the gold band on his ring finger. "Married?" she gasped. "Wow. Dr. Morgan must be a truly blushing bride as fast as that date was."

Darryl rubbed the long, jagged scar across the bottom of his left eye and nodded. "Dr. Morgan-Snow is a bride, but she says I'm the one who blushes."

Shardae hadn't believed, though she'd never tell him, that the hardened man would ever find love, let alone commit his life to someone. But he had. She shook her head. Wonders never cease.

"What?" He gave her his solemn face, the one he wore when he stared down bad wayward IGO soldiers on The Inquiry.

"Ah, nothing." She shrugged. "You seem so happy. Anyway, what's up? What brings you here to The Explorer?"

He raked his nails across his black bristled hair. His eyes darted around to the men working nearby. Inching closer, he lowered his voice to whisper, "Can we talk someplace?"

She peered at him. "Come with me." If he was here, it couldn't be good.

"Yes, ma'am."

At the end of the corridor, she headed into the turbolift and waited for Snow to join her. "A.I.: Commons 86."

Still sporting a stoic face, Snow launched into the lecture she knew he couldn't wait to unload. "Listen, we're transferring the motley over to you tomorrow at 1100..."

"I know," she snapped. "I got the orders."

"Look at me, Simmons," Darryl rumbled, "A.I.: halt!"

The lift obeyed -- hell, who wouldn't when Snow commanded?

He leaned close, making her stare at the horrid scar tissue marring his otherwise handsome face. "I'm serious, Simmons. Lee and Rojas nearly killed everyone. Everyone on my spacecraft. I used to be Alpha, so I know Ashe. I know her damn cockiness. These three are dangerous. You're rookie at security whether you want to admit that or not."

"Back off me, Snow. Let me do my job."

"I'm trying to help you."

"I don't want it." She pushed him firmly out of her personal space. "I got this."

Snow crossed his arms. "You got it all right. You need to be smart. Stay alert. Trust no one."

She snorted. "Trust no one?"

Darryl's eyes bored into hers. With slow, deliberate syllables he repeated, "No one."

"That's pretty ominous stuff."

"Alpha, like Delta, has been compromised. Ashe thinks she's got her people scared into obedience, but honestly, she's just like Taylor. He trusted too damn much too."

"Just tell me what you want." She wasn't liking the sickening pit her stomach had become.

"Ready to listen now, eh, rookie?"

"Kill that rookie shit or I'm walking."

"The mine accident happened because I put too much trust in my abilities and the people around me. This scar shows how my carelessness -- trust -- nearly slaughtered what I held dear. Now, that bullshit Lee pulled on The Inquiry got by me -- me, Simmons! -- and I've had a ton of experience."

"And now they're on my watch. You think because I'm inexperienced I'll screw this up?" She couldn't stop the squeak at the end of the question. "Darryl..."

He held up his hand. "No," he said. Then to the computer, "A.I.: Penal floor." Darryl seemed to wrestle with himself. "I don't think that you'll fail. I wanted to come over here to warn you."

He swallowed hard. It snagged Shardae's attention. She looked at him, really looked at him. Then it hit her. Guilt. He'd been in charge of security, and again he'd nearly failed.

"Simmons." His strained voice made her flinch. "Cricket could've been killed, me, my entire crew. Who knows what Lee and Rojas would've done once they got back here -- hell, if they'd come back here. I'm only telling you not to get distracted. Don't trust anyone. That mutiny didn't stop on The Inquiry. They started with the smallest spacecraft for a reason."

"Dry run," Shardae breathed. Her chest was tight with the numerous questions Darryl had stirred inside her.

He nodded. "My point exactly."