Sunday, October 31, 2010

Imperative Collection by Belinda McBride

Imperative (Collection)

by Belinda McBride

Cover art: Reneé George

ISBN: 978-1-60521-441-2
Genre(s): Futuristic, Sci-Fi

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

Length: Collection

In the future, we don't choose our mates; Nature chooses for us. Nature doesn't make mistakes. And if you don't pay attention to Nature's Imperative, you suffer.

You wake up one morning, knowing that the world as you know it has changed. You glimpse into blue eyes and see forever. You look at the woman across the office, and dislike shifts to unfathomable need. A life that seemed unbearable suddenly holds infinite promise.

Come into the garden, the Imperative is calling for you.

This collection contains the previously released novellas Missing You, Always You, and Saving You.


Belinda McBride

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Belinda McBride

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 Duncan first saw the dark-haired man moving toward him, his heart lurched in devastation and joy, warring emotions tangling together. He would never lie beside the mother of his children, but he would have this man that Nature had designed just for him.

Duncan had never wanted a man before, but as soon as his sight settled on this one, he knew. The resonance screamed inside his head, and his cock tightened in response. He’d known this sometimes happened, but he assumed the individuals in same sex matings were already predisposed that way. This would take some adjustment.

The dark man moved with grace and strength, even though his head was down and his eyes were shut. Duncan knew exactly why he had resorted to such measures. The resonance had been confusing and difficult to follow. He'd finally halted in the middle of the lawn, hoping to hone in on the message. And then he had turned to see the dark-haired man make his way carefully up the walkway, almost falling over a stunning African woman who was busy with a comp pad. Duncan had been watching her in awe, wondering if the resonance was coming from her.

His breath froze. Even without the Imperative raging through his body, this man was striking. His skin was naturally dark, but tanned darker from the sun. His black hair was unfashionably long, caught back in a single braid. Latin? Native American? Duncan couldn't tell. When they finally touched, the man's hands were rough and hard, the hands of a workman.

His almond shaped eyes tilted up at the corners, slightly crinkled from the sun and a happy disposition. The color was odd, a dark gray that hinted at green. They were similar in height, but while Duncan's shoulders were wide, his stomach cut, his body muscular, this man's body was lithe and sinewy. He carried much less weight than Duncan. Judging by the corded muscles of his arms, his strength was probably comparable. Duncan knew that lithe body hadn't been developed in a gym, but by his lifestyle.

The men embraced, and Duncan could feel the other man's cock straining against his own. There they stood, forehead to forehead, chest to chest, and thigh to thigh. Duncan thrilled to the feel of a muscled arm holding him tight. Their lips came together in a tentative first kiss that jarred them both to the bone. Duncan closed his eyes and savored the experience. Not too different, except as they bumped noses, he realized they would have to work out some dominance issues. Nevertheless, it was good. It'd add spice to things.

"I'm Con. Conrad Montgomery."

"Duncan Sinclair." Feeling giddy, Duncan began to laugh. "Were you expecting this?"

Con stepped back, surveying Duncan from head to foot. "Anything but. I was expecting a blonde, actually. But a redhead will do."

"It's not red, it's auburn."

Con snorted in laughter. Duncan had probably learned to be tough, growing up with hair like that.

The two men began moving easily together down the shaded pathways, focusing more on one another than their destination. They both had goofy grins on their faces, and as they walked, their hands occasionally brushed, bringing jolts and thrills down their bodies. A new and completely unexpected world had just opened to them both.

"So, Con, what will your family think?"

Con's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "Wow, hadn't thought of that. Dad's gonna be okay, our culture is pretty open about same sex unions. Mom though... she's gonna want grandbabies. But my brother and sister have already done their duty that way." He shrugged. "She loves me. She'll love you too. How 'bout yours?"

Duncan's eyes creased in a smile. "Same thing. My father's gone, passed away a few years back. Pop might have been uncomfortable, but he mated through the Imperative as well, so he'd have come around. My three brothers have scattered seed far and wide. The family name is secure." His dimples were deep and charming. Joy fairly radiated from his face. Con felt like Duncan looked.

They walked a wide loop through the garden, eventually returning to the gate. As they left the park, Con paused, his brow wrinkling a bit. He scanned the grounds briefly and then turned back to Duncan.

"I'll miss having kids. But I guess we can work around that."

Duncan nodded in agreement. "Adoption is good. Or a surrogate. I can afford one."

He watched as Con turned back to the park briefly. "What is it?"

Con turned back to his new partner. "An echo maybe? I think we're still putting off the calling vibe. It's got me feeling a little off." Duncan waited while Con stood, listening, and then shaking his head clear. After a moment, they headed down the street to their new future.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Wolfman Apocalypse

Wolfman: Apocalypse

by Brannan Black

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-538-9

Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Dark Fantasy

Theme(s): Werewolves, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Wolfman
Length: Novella

Life as we knew it pretty much ended with the lightning fast spread of the plague. The media called it Werewolf Syndrome. Women got sick, many died. They were the lucky ones. Men got sick, too, but those who didn't die... changed. A few immune men, like myself, joined the bands of refugees, scrounging for survival in the post-apocalyptic devastation.

I lived in a fortified compound with a couple dozen women, a bunch of kids and two asshole straight guys. Sounds like a man's wet dream -- unless you happen to be the last gay man standing. At the time, risking my life scavenging in the city sounded like a fucking vacation.

I went out hunting supplies and found something else. Not a quick death, or even a slow, painful one at the hands of the beasts -- no such luck. Instead I find myself captive to the largest, most well organized gang of beast men ever. Their leader, Mace, wants more than just a generator -- he wants my body. Oddly, a certain part of me likes that idea. The other part –- the part with working survival instincts -- insists I get the hell out of Dodge before my smart mouth gets the shit kicked out of me. Again. Tradeoffs...

Wolfman: Apocalypse

Brannan Black

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Brannan Black

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.

Loud growls reached my ears as soon as I stepped out of the building. I crept along the shadows to peer around the corner. Son of a bitch! A couple of beasts lounged around my truck.

Four years ago the world ended, or at least that's when the government collapsed. The plague had hit a couple years before that. It spread so fast all the doctors in the world couldn't stop it. The media dubbed it Werewolf Syndrome. Women and children got sick, some died. Older guys or those physically weak didn't survive what the virus did to them.

The men that survived turned into something from the Twilight Zone. They grew larger, with denser bones, stronger muscles, and deadly claws. Slightly elongated jaws came complete with lethal fangs. Their weird yellow eyes could see in the dark, and with the depth perception of a falcon. Faster reflexes and endurance made them a top predator. One of the last newscasts I saw showed one ripping an African lion apart at the local zoo and eating it.

Oh, and aggressive? 'Roid rage is nothing compared to these guys. They either wanted to kill it, fuck it or eat it, sometimes all three, and not in any particular order. No one knows if they lost the memory of who they'd been or if they didn't care anymore. Maybe they just plain went nuts. No one could get close enough to ask, not and live to tell about it. Not that it made them stupid. Might have been containable if it had.

Once it got started the world just tore itself apart. A fucking apocalypse. There just weren't enough women with the combat training to handle the beasts. The women and children who managed to escape joined the few of us immune men in hidden fortresses, fighting to survive.

Unfortunately, despite the danger, sometimes we had to go scrounge for supplies. I'd seen a few bodies. Not pretty. Night Of The Living Dead not pretty. But I had the training to find what we needed. Plus, after a winter locked up with two guys I've got nothing in common with, a few dozen lonely women and about a dozen kids, I needed to get away. That's how I ended up alone in that alley staring death in the face.

Two of them were leaning up against my only way out of the city. OK, I suppose I could walk the forty-plus miles back to our camp but it'd take forever and leave me exposed to more roaming beasts. I fingered my .45 but doubted I could shoot them both dead before they could get to me. Unless you hit one right between the eyes, one shot wouldn't do more than piss them off.

Shit, my ass was fried.

A subtle breath of air raised the hair on the back of my neck. I whirled just in time to miss the full impact of the blow aimed at the back of my head. Even so, the glancing blow spun me into the wall. They jumped me so fast I had no chance at defense. Within seconds, my face ground into the cracked, muddy pavement, both arms twisted behind me so hard I thought it'd rip them out.

Muddy black biker boots filled my vision. I tried to look up, only to have my face smacked back into the pavement. "You're not rabid, not pack. What are you beside weak and slow?" The boots came with a deep voice that rumbled out in a growl.

I was still puzzling over what he meant by "pack" or "rabid" when boots connected sharply with my ribs. Pain erupted along my hip and ribs from the other side. My yelp set off a round of cruel sniggers and growls. Fuck! Now they'd start tearing me apart for sure.

"Knock it off! Get him up." The deep voice headed in the direction of my truck.

Rough hands with inch and half long claws on each finger jerked me to my feet like a rag doll. I'd never really worked out but at six foot with muscles gained from an active life, I wasn't small, either.

They shoved me along behind the deep-voiced guy. Long black hair pulled back in a loose braid spilled halfway down his back. A worn black leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders. Tight, worn jeans wrapped an ass that, under other circumstances, I'd be drooling over. Shit, my cock didn't seem to get the message that death, ugly painful death, lay just ahead.

Did I mention I'm gay? So now I could add painfully confined erection to my growing list of aches.

Three more large beasts -- OK, so they're all large -- stood near or leaned against my truck. A shove sent me face first across the hood and a body slammed against me, pinning me there. Shit, the guy's cock felt huge, and more than ready, jammed up against my ass. I was so fucked. Probably literally, and then they'd rip what was left apart.

"So, not pack, not rabid. Human, but not female. Huh. Didn't think any human males still lived." That deep voice moved casually around me as he spoke. The slightest movement when I tried to look at him got me shoved harder into the truck with a clawed hand gripping the back of my neck. I got the message and held still.

"Still nothing to say, little human male?"

Leave out the menacing words and that beast had one of the sexiest deep voices I'd ever heard. It pissed me off how it turned me on. "What, you want me to compliment you on how fucking smart you are?" I groaned inwardly. I couldn't believe I'd just said that. Angry growls closed in around me. I squeezed my eyes shut figuring the end had to be near. Me and my smart mouth, I just couldn't shut the fuck up.

A soft, throaty chuckle hit me like ice water on bare skin, shocking me back to the here and now. "I can smell your fear, and yet you defy me?" The voice leaned so close I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. "Not very smart, little human. Any one of us could rip you apart without raising a sweat."

He nuzzled into my neck more like a lover than someone ready to rip me to shreds. His measured breathing tickled along my neck, the side of my face. I'd never found scared shitless to be sexy before, but more blood rushed south when his lips nibbled along my jaw.

"I wonder if the rest of you tastes as good." Those had to be his fingers grazing my cheek. Shock waves of desire spread out from his touch. How the hell could I find this arousing? It'd been years since I had a lover, but still...

He moved around to the front of the truck where I could stare at the sizable bulge in his low slung jeans and the hint of ripped abs just above. My stupid cock must have liked the view because despite being smashed into a car hood, it got even harder.

"Where are the rest of your humans?"

He wanted to talk before ripping me apart? Unheard of, didn't even know they could hold a conversation. "I'm here alone." Fuck, they just wanted to find more victims.

"No shit, or they'd be joining you. Bet you aren't collecting this shit just for fun. So where are the other humans? Or are you part of another pack?" His voice no longer sounded sultry. It sounded like pain, followed by death.

I swallowed hard and pulled up every ounce of courage I could muster. "I don't know what you mean by pack. I'm alone."

A heartbeat's pause, and then claws yanked me up and slammed me back down, making sure to bounce my face off the hood this time. Son of a bitch! A gush of blood flew from my nose. I didn't think it was broken, but with so many other things hurting, who could tell?

"Fuck! OK, pretend, for a minute, I do live with others like me. Do you really think I'd tell you? And just to speed this up, is this where you promise to let me go if I tell you? Or maybe just kill me fast instead of really slow. Either way, if I did have people I cared about, I would rather you fucked me half to death before eating me for dinner, alive, than tell you anything. I'm pretty damn sure you will anyway but at least my hypothetical friends stay safe."

Silence fell and oddly, I didn't get smashed into the car again. The overgrown beast pinning me down leaned down where I could see him. "We're pack. We don't eat our own kind, or your kind either." He flashed me a wicked grin. "At least not for dinner." The others raked me over with lewd looks and suggestive grins. One went so far as to lick his lips while staring my ass. So maybe they still wanted to fuck everything. Something of an improvement over being eaten alive... maybe.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Codename Courtesan: Winter

Codename Courtesan: Winter

by Aubrey Ross

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-416-0
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure, BDSM

Series: Codename Courtesan

Length: Novella

After surviving the horrors of a salt refinery, Winter is convinced she's prepared for anything. Her mission is simple, seduce Ulrick Brant and convince him to reveal the location of the mysterious Chemist. Ulrick is handsome, sexy, and heroic. How hard can this be?

Ulrick doesn't mind helping the Resistance, but he won't tolerate being used. Before Winter realizes she's caught, he has her naked and in restraints. He arouses her slowly, commanding her body with skill and tenderness until they both forget it's a game.

Winter is dazzled by the pleasure they share, but the Resistance won't wait forever. Danger is closing in, and Ulrick must choose his final role, ruthless invader, or freedom fighter.

Codename Courtesan: Winter

Aubrey Ross

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Aubrey Ross

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.

Clutching Grizzly Winters' burly body to her naked breasts, Cub rocked her protector back and forth as tears streamed down her face. Fear had given way to rage, and finally anguish as the life faded from his pale blue eyes. "Don't you die on me. Don't you dare! Please, Grizzly. Talk to me."

"You knew about this! Didn't you?" The captains circled King, like sharks attracted to blood in the water. "You're king. You had to know."

"I swear, Grizzly told no one," King insisted.

"Was he fucking her?"

The question sent a fresh wave of fury stabbing into Cub. "You disgusting pigs! You're all so worried about fucking; you can't think of anything else! He was like a pa to me! He took care of me and taught me, but he never laid a hand on me." She buried her face in Grizzly's wiry hair as hard sobs robbed her of speech.

"King, tell me exactly what happened. How was it discovered that Cub was female and who killed Grizzly?"

She was used to hearing Tomlinson's voice over the loudspeaker, but she wasn't surprised to find him here. Tomlinson always turned up when things went wrong. Holding Grizzly close, she waited to see if King would tell it true, or if she'd need to step in and set things straight.

"Griz heard Cub screaming and went to see what was wrong." King looked at her, eyes hot and hungry. "Greg and Toad had Cub down on the floor. They was gonna take a poke at him, but when they got his pants off the surprise was on them."

Everyone started laughing, and Cub pressed her fists over her ears, screaming, "It ain't funny! If I'd been a boy, they'd have hurt me bad."

Tomlinson moved toward her, all clean pressed suit and fake smiles. "None of this is funny, Cub. You've been very brave." As quick as his compassion appeared it evaporated. He turned back to King, and she was all but forgotten. "Who killed Grizzly?"

"He went after Greg and Toad. No one blames him for that, but he wouldn't stop. His captain warned him to stop. Even I warned him. He left us no choice."

"He knew it had been for nothing." She paused for a sneer. "Griz promised my pa he'd protect me, or die trying. Looks like he kept his word." She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "He went down swinging 'cause those two wouldn't jerk off like everyone else!"

A man stepped out of the shadows beyond Tomlinson, and the breath caught in Cub's throat. His hair was light, golden even in the underground, yet his eyes were darker than midnight. Tomlinson moved with authority and purpose evident in each step. This man looked so damn comfortable it was as if he owned the world.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

He stepped up beside the boss and held out his hand. "My name is Ulrick Brant. I'm sorry for your loss."

She glanced down at her filthy hand, then crossed her arms over her breasts. Tears blurred her vision and burned her throat. Why was this stranger the only one who realized she was in pain? No one else seemed to care that the only person in this godforsaken place who ever gave a damn about her lay lifeless -- because of her!

The stranger shrugged out of his fancy coat and knelt beside her. "Is the blood on your chest his, or are you hurt as well?" He placed the coat around her shoulders and eased Grizzly farther down her legs.

"I ain't hurt, thanks to Grizzly." As soon as she let go, he rolled Grizzly's body to the side and helped her to her feet. She quickly slipped her arms into the sleeves and buttoned a few of the buttons, then gathered the long coat around her trembling legs. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She dragged her gaze away from his handsome face and looked back at Grizzly. He lay on his side now, all peaceful, like he was sleeping.

"Get her cleaned up so we can see if she's worth fighting for."

She didn't know who said it, but it snapped her head back around. "I belong to Griz! I'm Grizzly Winters' Cub!"

"Griz is dead, Cub," King reminded her. As if she could forget. "You know the rules. Women must be claimed. There are no exceptions."

"How old is she?" Tomlinson asked. "She might not be ready for breeding."

"She's more than ready." That hot, hungry look came back into King's eyes. "Don't let her innocent expression fool you. Naked bodies don't lie."

The stranger wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and drew her toward him. "Chet, she's perfect for my investigation. I'll return her in a day or so."

"Wait a goddamn minute! Who the fuck are you?" King took a menacing step forward.

Tomlinson blocked King's path. "Mr. Brant is the Civilian Head of the Protectorate. He can interview anyone he likes for as long as he likes. Step aside."

To Cub's astonishment King did exactly that. She took two steps forward before her numbed brain reengaged. "Wait! What about Griz?"

"I'll see that he is sent off with all the honor he deserves."

On any other day she wouldn't have believed anything Tomlinson said, but he was obviously afraid of the stranger. And the stranger had taken an interest in her.

In a muddled stupor, she followed the stranger across the common room and down the corridor leading to the elevators. Ulrick. He'd said his name was Ulrick Brant. She looked up at him and shivered. Even in profile he looked amazing, attractive, interesting, and dangerous. What did the Civilian Head of the Protectorate want with someone like her?

"Where are you taking me?" It was foolish to care, but she couldn't silence the question.

"Away from here." His tone was low and amused. "Do you really care where we go?" He echoed her thought as he slid the safety gate open and motioned her inside.

She hesitated. "It depends what you expect from me in return."

"Then stay here and take your chances with them."

Annoyance rolled up her spine. "You don't have to threaten me. I'm just trying to understand what you want."

"I want to talk to you. I want to see who's living under all that dirt. Beyond that, I honestly don't know." He moved into the elevator and grabbed the safety gate. "In or out. It's up to you."

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Dreaming of You by Cat Marsters


Dreaming Of You

by Cat Marsters

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-503-7
Genre(s): Paranormal, Dark Fantasy
Theme(s): Ménage
Length: Novel

Don't miss Cat Marsters at the TRS Release Party Friday, October 29th!

Tamenorix was cursed to live forever as a slave, providing pleasure to whoever wears his torc.

Book Summary:

Two thousand years ago, Tamenorix of the Segovantes was cursed to live forever as a slave, providing pleasure to whoever wears his torc. A torc bought centuries later by a lovelorn academic for his best friend's birthday.

Matt's been in love with Amy for longer than he can remember. And Amy's just as mad about him. The only problem is neither of them will ever admit to it. But when he gives Amy a gold torc for her birthday and a muscular warrior turns up to start having sex with her right under his nose, Matt realizes something's got to be done...


Amy writhed in the arms of her dream lover and squeezed her thigh over his hip. His fingers were toying with the soft skin at the top of her inner thigh, but that wasn't what she wanted.

She wanted his fingers inside her, wanted him to stroke and rub her to an amazing orgasm, and then another, wanted to see if that amazing cock of his could truly fit inside her.

This was turning out to be a bloody good dream.

She reached down, sexually aggressive in a way she'd never dared in real life, and pushed his hand between her legs.

He laughed softly against her mouth. "You know what you want," he said.

"I want you to touch me," Amy said. Then, boldly, she added, "I want you to make me come."

"Your wish is my desire," he promised, biting her lip as his fingers parted her. He stroked all the way up, between her folds, until he reached her clit. Amy was so wet it was nearly embarrassing, but who cared? This wasn't real.

Hell, she could probably give that massive cock a ride and it would fit in easily, but right now his fingers between her legs were so damn pleasant she couldn't think very far ahead.

He rubbed her clit in maddening patterns, sometimes pressing hard, other times with a feather light touch. He dipped down into her wetness and spread it around while his lips scorched hot patterns down her neck.

He paused at the torc, then continued on over her collarbone.

As his lips reached her nipple, his finger slid inside her pussy. Like the rest of him, his finger was big. She'd never seen such a big man, not in real life. His shoulders were massive, his body packed with muscle, his chest enormous. His stomach was ridged with muscle, his hips narrow and his buttocks just perfect, hard as marble with a delicious dip in the side of each.

As he pushed her gently to her back she slid her calf up and down his leg. His thigh was strong, hard, corded with muscle. His legs, his forearms and chest all bore scattered dark hair, crisp and unbearably exciting to rub against. Around his collarbone was a complex tattoo of twisted knots. Amy wanted to lick every inch of it.

And then there was his penis. Dear God, such things didn't exist in nature. If Amy had doubted she was dreaming for a single second, the sight of that massive organ, flushed and throbbing, persuaded her she was.

Added to which he was devastatingly handsome. Amy knew that handsome men with large penises just didn't exist. No man had ever looked like this, with his warrior's body and cropped hair and unshaven jaw. He might have been a gladiator, an insatiable warrior, celebrating his victory by enthusiastically bedding a woman.


Monday, October 25, 2010

New Reviews for Changeling Press 10/25/10

New Reviews for Changeling Press 10/25/10

Congratulations to Cynthia Sax, Kate Hill, Michelle Hasker, Marie Treanor and
Violet Summers!

BADGE BUNNY (Cynthia Sax)
Five Cherries from Whipped Cream Reviews

There are so many moments of true romance or romantic moments that it's sure to
please.. [and] it's as hot, fun and passionate as an erotic romance reader could

Four & ½ Hearts from The Romance Studio

The characters of this story are well written and the storyline flows with both
excitement and sexual chemistry which Ms. Hill has woven in quite nicely.

DRAGON KIN: RAEN (Michelle Hasker)
Four Hearts from The Romance Studio

.once these two got the heat going between them this story got hot and heavy,
along with much laughter and excitement.

GALACTIC WOLF (Marie Treanor)
Four Hearts from Love Romances & More

The love scenes are going to curl your toes and also leave you breathless. I had
to read this in one sitting and couldn't let it go until I scrolled to the last

WILLA'S MASTER (Violet Summers)
Four Lips from Two Lips Reviews

Willa's Masteris a must read for any paranormal lover who likes a little BDSM
thrown in for spice.  It will not disappoint.

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Dark Reign: Found

Dark Reign: Found

by Mychael Black

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-532-7

Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes

Theme(s): Vampires, Werewolves, Gay and Lesbian

Series: Dark Reign

Length: Hot Flash

AJ remembers nothing about life before he began working for the sadistic vampire Dalton Gray. When Dalton's plans go awry, AJ is sure he's as good as dead. Then a mystery hero shows up and offers AJ something he never expected: a past.
Dark Reign: Found

Mychael Black

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Mychael Black

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.

Everything hurt.

It wasn't the excruciating pain from before, but it was enough for AJ to know he sure as hell wasn't dead. Yet.

He kept his eyes closed, but wherever he was, it was relatively dark. Awareness started creeping back, and AJ gave into his morbid curiosity, opening his eyes slowly.

Where the fuck was he?

"You'll live."

AJ froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Blinking, he scanned the room slowly, not entirely sure he really wanted to see who had spoken. When his gaze settled on a distinctly shaped pocket of shadow, AJ swallowed. "Who are you?"

A faint red glow lit up a man's face, then faded. A soft exhale sent a plume of ash-gray smoke into the air. "Geoff."

"Geoff." AJ started to sit up, but the world spun suddenly, tilting on its axis. He dropped back onto the bed and prayed he wouldn't puke. Bed? He patted the mattress beneath him. Soft sheets, with the faint smell of laundry detergent. "Where am I?"

"A hotel room, Settlers' Inn, to be exact. Room 316."


Another exhale and the smoke curled upward toward the ceiling. "Because you're in my territory."

"Your territory?" AJ opened his eyes. After reassuring himself that he wouldn't hurl with the slightest movement, he turned his head toward the man in the shadows. "Are you some sort of gang leader?" It would be just his fucking luck.

"You could say that." The man -- Geoff -- leaned forward and stubbed out his cigarette in the cheap, clear glass ashtray on the table. "Why were you in the ravine, anyway?"

"Huh?" Furrowing his brow, AJ tried to remember everything that had happened. "I-I wasn't. My boss..." He bit his lip, knowing it would be stupid to tell this stranger anything. "I got into an argument with someone. I wasn't in a ravine; I was in... a warehouse. I think."

Geoff snorted and sat back into the shadows again. "Must've been one hell of an argument. You look like you went through a bone-crunching obstacle course."

Feels like it, too, AJ thought. "Who are you?"

"I told you."

Another cigarette was lit, the glow from the flame illuminating a little more of the man's face. Rugged, little bit of stubble, angular jaw; handsome, that was for certain. AJ chastised himself for even having the gall to think something like that while lying on what could easily become his deathbed. Speaking of which...

"How'd I end up here?" And why am I not dead?

"I was... hunting, and I found you in the ravine. You looked like hell. Look better now, though. You'll survive whatever the fuck happened." Geoff took another drag and exhaled a few seconds later. "You have yet to tell me what you were doing there."

AJ sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "Well, I guess if you were going to kill me, you would've already done it."


He chose to ignore the almost casual way Geoff said that. "My boss beat the fuck out of me, all right? Happy now?"

"No. Why?"

"Why the fuck should I tell you?"

AJ suddenly found himself face to face with the most heart-stopping set of hazel eyes he'd ever seen.

"Because I just saved your ass from the beggars and thugs who would gladly fuck it down there."

Fuck. Was a man supposed to look that God damn good? AJ opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Words had completely abandoned him in favor of leaving him to gape at the sight of a pair of lips just inches from his own.

"Dog got yer tongue?"

Hot breath warmed AJ's lips, seeping between them to settle in his lungs. What were they talking about again? Oh, yeah. Ravine. His ass. Fucking. Wait...

"Don't you mean 'cat'?"

"In this case... no."

He wasn't given a chance to answer. Those lips crushed his, Geoff's tongue pushing right between them to claim his mouth. AJ stared into golden eyes, but the sensations rushing through him were too strong to ignore. With a half-protesting, half-pleading moan, he closed his eyes and gave in, opening completely to the man's kiss.

So what if he died? It was the best fucking kiss he'd ever had.

When Geoff pulled away, AJ could do nothing but stare mutely up at the man. Geoff left the bedside and started for the bathroom, one hand running along the dresser as he went. AJ watched his host with interest. It wasn't every day he was snatched out of Death's grip by a hot man in tight, faded blue jeans. Geoff stopped in the bathroom doorway and tugged his black shirt over his head, tossing it onto the bed at AJ's feet. Then he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

AJ remained where he was, unsure what to think or expect. Geoff had an unmistakable standoffish air to him, but... he had rescued AJ from that ravine. Maybe the man wasn't so bad.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Bloody or Nothing; Villain Tamed by Kate Hill

Bloody or Nothing: Villain Tamed

by Kate Hill

Cover art: Zuri

ISBN: 978-1-60521-053-7

Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure

Theme(s): Vampires, Gay and Lesbian

Series: Bloody or Nothing

Length: Novella
For centuries Lao has battled humankind and in doing so has made many enemies. Injured while fighting the dreaded new reign, he asks for refuge from Sudsy Waters.

The last thing Lao wants is to fall in love with a human, but when he meets Tyler, the doctor at Bloody or Nothing, a love ignites that will burn all barriers Lao has built around his heart.

In the final battle with the Evil Master, the future of the world depends on Lao, but can love redeem the man feared almost as much as the devil?

Bloody or Nothing: Villain Tamed

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.

Lao opened his eyes slightly and stared at the door. The doctor entered quietly and approached the bed. Probably believing Lao asleep, he stood staring at him with a thoughtful expression for so long that Lao became annoyed.

"What do you want, human?"

"You speak with contempt, but part of you is human too. It always will be."

Lao raised his eyes to the heavens. "Don't you have anything better to do than stand here irritating me?"

"Since the new reign I usually have a full house, but over the past few months they've lain low."

They hadn't been lying low, but gathering their forces to attack Dark Rhythm. Not only had they destroyed his headquarters, but several of Lao's major bases worldwide.

It was retribution.

A month ago the leader of the new reign had visited Lao. He asked Lao to join him in spreading evil throughout the world. His offer might have been tempting, except Lao had no desire to destroy the world. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't enjoy violence. He had merely learned to accept it as a way of life, at least until he could ensure the safety of his kind.

The leader of the new reign didn't want a partnership. He wanted minions. Lao no longer bowed to anyone. His emperor had banished him ages ago and his Creator had been dead for centuries. Lao was his own master. Others bent to his will, not the other way around.

The good doctor tilted his head slightly to the side, his almond-shaped blue eyes narrowed, and the hint of a smile touched his lips. There was something hauntingly familiar about his expression.

"What do you want?" Lao demanded. Here in Esteban's domain, he had no choice but to refrain from crushing this human pest.

"I've heard so much about you but I never thought I'd --"

"See me?"

"See you here."

"Esteban is one of the few outside of Dark Rhythm who still receive me. The others are too self-righteous or too stupid. You see, they still believe humans are worth protecting."

"I know about your hatred of humans --"

"You know nothing," Lao said, his voice dripping with scorn. How dare this insignificant human so much as hint that he understood a vampire master such as Lao?

"But I don't know why," Tyler continued, completely ignoring Lao's outburst.

"You live among vampires, but haven't taken the Change. Is that because you refused it or because none of your so-called friends have offered it?"

"When the time is right --"

"Will the time ever be right for you, or do you believe we're demons?"

Tyler laughed. "That's ridiculous. I've seen evil in vampires and evil in humans. Evil isn't reserved for a particular species. It's a choice." The doctor stared directly into Lao's eyes and there was no missing the accusation in that look.

This human's impertinence knew no bounds. Had he not been in Esteban's home, Lao would have killed him already.

"Sudsy said you refused to join the new reign. I wonder why, since you and the Evil Creator seem to want the same thing."

"How does he know about my dealings with the Evil Creator?"

"While we were treating you, you drifted in and out of consciousness."

"And Esteban helped himself to my thoughts?" Lao bristled with anger. Not that he blamed Esteban for infiltrating his mind. Had their situation been reversed, he would have done the same to learn about his visitor's intentions.

"Dark Rhythm is nothing like the new reign," Lao said, wondering why he was explaining himself to this human.

"Isn't it?" Tyler asked softly. How could those calm blue eyes look so gentle yet so critical? "You both destroy anyone who gets in your way. You're both brutal in your methods and enjoy seeing others suffer."

Lao knew that's what those who opposed him believed. Yes, Dark Rhythm was brutal, but they had to be. Vampire hunters were a sly, vicious lot. One couldn't be soft when dealing with them. Hunters were human. That made all humans potential killers and the enemy of all vampires.

For thousands of years descendants of the twelve had protected humans, shielding them from the menace of evil blood drinkers. In return humans didn't differentiate between vampires and demonic blood drinkers. They condemned anyone with fangs. Lao had simply grown tired of their ingratitude. He'd seen too many companions destroyed by human ignorance and cruelty.

Turn the other cheek and you'll invariably get slapped twice with no reward in the end but a stake through the heart. Or burning. Or death by silver. Trust a human and you end up punished one way or another.

"Is there anything you need before I go?" Tyler asked.

Lao cast him another scathing look.

With a sigh, the human shook his head and said, "If you do need something, press the button by your bed and the staff member on duty will come."

"Another human?"

"No. A vampire nurse is on duty. Also Jeff and Jonah, who head Sudsy's security team, are watching the hospital floor tonight."

Lao smiled wryly. "Esteban must believe that even in my present state I'm quite dangerous."

"He's right."

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Cupcakes by Michelle Hasker


by Michelle Hasker

Cover art: Reneé George

ISBN: 978-1-60521-508-2

Genre(s): Paranormal

Theme(s): Magic and Mayhem

Length: Novella

The joy of her annual Samhain orgy is interrupted yet again by her bossy controller. The man is so annoying he won't even tell her his name. When he magicks her away to a secret play room to teach her a lesson, he learns what can happen if you aren't careful. Tables can easily be turned.

Michelle Hasker

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Michelle Hasker

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.

Moans filled the air as bodies writhed on the floor. Halloween music blared in the background, making the scene sound like something out of a horror flick. Except the bodies weren't writhing in agony -- no, this was an orgy. A full-blown orgy.

Carly's lips twitched, and then she gave in to the tempting urge and let a smile form. It wasn't often she smiled, but this sure was worth it. The chief of police had at least three fingers buried in the mayor's wife's pussy, while the mayor pounded into her ass from behind.

The weather forecaster was sprawled on the floor, moaning loud enough to wake the dead as the DJ from the WJZZY morning show ate out her cunt. She was a real blonde though, no doubt about that.

Over on the other side of the room, one of the librarians was on her knees, sucking off the well-built mail carrier who delivered to the east side of town. One of the judges sat on the overstuffed couch, masturbating and watching the head mechanic at Tom's garage eat out the hostess at the pub. She, in turn, ate out the meter maid.

Oh there would be hell to pay tomorrow, but today -- this -- was worth it. The postmistress let out an ear-piercing shriek when the twins who owned the gym both filled her pussy at the same time. The woman's guttural moan and plea for more kept Carly from stopping the sexual onslaught. As long as Mary was willing, she wasn't going to put an end to it.

"What have you done, Carly?" The deep, husky whisper sent shivers up her spine. She hadn't eaten any of the cupcakes though, so she wasn't going to be reduced to this sexual frenzy of need like the rest of the town.

"Nothing they didn't expect me to do." She didn't look at him. Couldn't. The censorship that would be on his face would be a downer, and right now, this was the best thing that had happened all month. All season. Hell, all year. But since it was Samhain, this was the start of a new year. With all the sexual energy her party guests were emitting, she was going to be able to create one hell of a spell. Witches didn't usually do sex spells on Samhain, but she had a reason for her yearly ritual. Right now she wasn't going to dwell on that. Not with the Grinch breathing down her neck.

"Carly." His sigh tickled her neck. He was really making her regret piling her long unruly curls on top of her head.

"They're having fun. So they needed a little push to reveal their innermost desires. Everyone here is more than willing. See for yourself."

"More than willing, Carly? More than willing?" His hand closed on her upper arm. Pain flared at his touch when he spun her around.

"Look, it's a simple aphrodisiac that will wear off in a few hours. There's also a little inhibitor releaser to make sure they have a little harmless fun."

"Harmless? What if the chief impregnates the mayor's wife?"

"Don't worry, he never actually sticks his dick in her. Besides, I had a spell for that too, in addition to a few more ingredients doctored into the cupcakes."

"Don't worry?" His eyes flamed red, his face darkened, and his nostrils flared. "Don't worry?"

"Shhh!" She crooked her neck and vanished them into the kitchen. "You're an echo. Knock it off. You aren't deaf and you aren't stupid. You heard me just fine each time. Do you want to ruin my party?"

"Ruin your party?" He visibly shook from the anger she could feel coursing through him.

The echo again. She sighed. "Yeah. They're having a blast. You're like the little black rain cloud that follows Eeyore."

He sputtered, honest to goddess sputtered. It was a wonderful sound.

Carly took advantage of his shock and yanked herself free, rubbing the burning area he'd held in his wicked grasp.

"What if your ingredients don't work right? What if your spell backfires?"

"Not that it will," she drawled slowly, agitated with his insistence on being a nuisance, "but that is why there are baskets of condoms scattered around the room." She turned away and looked back at the orgy with another smile. "Shame your parents didn't use them," she whispered under her breath.

"Too far, witch. You went too far this time."

An awful shriek echoed in her ears as her room suddenly shot away from her. She vanished and reappeared in a darkened room. Damn it. It was her. Clamping her lips tight, she turned and glared, looking for the ass.

"Come out, come out wherever you are." Giant ass. She thought it, but she didn't say it. He'd just reminded her which one of them was more powerful. It wasn't her. It figures council would give her the most straitlaced controller in the world.

"Someone will be coming, witch. But it won't be me."

Carly found herself stripped naked and shackled to the wall. Cold, hard bricks scraped against her back when she tested the restraints. Unsuccessful at manually escaping, she tried to use her magick. A sharp pain zapped her fast as lightning, leaving a tingling static electricity feeling zinging through her.

"What the -- oomph!" She choked and sputtered, spitting out the bite of cupcake she'd accidentally bitten when he'd shoved it in her mouth. Another attempt at magick sent the same burst screaming through her. "Assmunch, what the fu --"

Yet again he'd shoved the cupcake in her mouth. Uh-uh. No way. There was no way she was biting that damn thing. As it was, she lusted after this stupid dark controller who was dangerous and deadly as a snake -- and sexier than sin. The man made her weak in the knees. Made her brain short-circuit. Drove her to purchase extra batteries. No. Anger was better. Much better than lust. Clamping her lips tight, Carly shook her head. Not gonna do it. Nope.

Even as the thought to kick him in the balls formed in her brain, her legs were yanked and shackles appeared around her ankles, securing her to the wall. "Well, fuck," she mumbled around a mouthful of cupcake. When he pulled back, she spat it out of her mouth, and kept trying to get all the wet crumbs out.

"Afraid to take your own medicine?" He taunted her, but she wasn't going to rise to it. No, she wasn't. She shook her head. "Not afraid? Then open up and say ahhhhh."

Friday, October 22, 2010

Garou: Black Widow by Jonathan Wright

Garou: Black Widow

by Jonathan Wright

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-513-6

Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure, BDSM

Theme(s): Interracial, Vampires, Werewolves, Dark Desire

Series: Garou

Length: Novella

Paris, France, 2010 -- In the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. An inhuman triangle...

The daughter of Moorish slaves, Elena, a 1200-year-old vampire, must kill her lovers to sate the bloodlust she cannot control. Over time she has erected a wall between her feelings and the men she must kill in order to survive, but her remorse has become almost unbearable.

Stephan, an American tourist, thwarts an attempt to kill the beautiful black vampire. Elena doesn't really buy his story, yet she is grateful -- and intrigued. But her bloodlust is rising, and her savior may become her next meal.

Stephan, too, is more than he appears. Strong and confident, yet with a crippling secret, he is willing to risk his life to dominate and claim this amazing woman. The Black Widow prepares to seduce her prey, but a night of white-hot passion changes everything Elena thought she knew about herself.

When a terrible specter from her past reappears to claim Elena, Stephan must risk more than his life to save her...

Garou: Black Widow

Jonathan Wright

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Jonathan Wright

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 you are hunted. And this is not the first time someone has tried to kill you."

She sipped a dark Merlot that suited the simplicity of the moment. "Yes. But I am no criminal, let me make that clear. How did you know?"

"You are very calm. You made no mention of the police."

She tilted her head slightly. "And neither did you insist, which is certainly just as intriguing, don't you think?"

Garou said nothing, swirling his wine.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Garou admired her, as she seemed to expect. She wore a pale silk blouse sheer enough to reveal her heavy tits that appeared to neither have nor require visible support, and dark slacks that accentuated her long legs. He shrugged. "An American tourist."

Her almond eyes narrowed. "I think you are being cautious. Or perhaps evasive." She smiled a little. "You find me attractive, yes?"

Lush lips and arched eyebrows accentuated her sculpted face. Thick black hair fell in a foaming cascade halfway down her back. He frankly eyed the significant cleavage exposed by the mostly unbuttoned blouse. "Yes."

"I am more than twelve hundred years old."

Garou turned his glass slowly as he met her gaze then looked at her tits, again. "You carry it well."

She smiled. "Perhaps you do not believe me?"

He liked her accent, French without being obviously so. Her body appealed to him somewhat more. He fingered the cane that leaned against their table. The sidewalk café served good espresso and croissants, along with an excellent Merlot. The dinner crowd swarmed around them as the last red-orange light sprayed through the skeletal structure of the Tour d'Eiffel.

Finally deciding how he felt, Garou replied, "I don't care."

"Yes," she admitted. "I am hunted. Given enough time, everyone makes enemies, non?"

"You do not seem concerned."

She smiled sadly. "People of my sort tend to become rather fatalistic with age."

He waited.

She started to speak, then paused and sipped her wine, looking at him.

The meeting of their eyes felt very comfortable to Garou. Not as though they were flirting -- that part was already clearly understood, and in fact had passed into the realm of foreplay. Instead, he felt a sense of peace.

After a full minute, she said, "I am impressed, monsieur. Few men are comfortable in their silence with a woman such as I." She paused again. "There is something else you should understand about me. I am very sexual. That is why I asked you to come here. I know the management."

"Indeed," he said. "And so you get the best table?"

She grinned. "No." Her long nails glimmered crimson in the low light as she casually opened her blouse in full view of the other patrons. Her tits spilled out, smooth chocolate globes against sheer white silk. Her scarlet lips curved upward in a self-satisfied smile of quiet anticipation.

In the well of immediate stillness that settled on them Garou didn't bother glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. He leaned back, once more twirling the glass. Beyond their table, the swishy Maitre'd took notice with upraised eyebrows.

She tucked in the blouse without buttoning it, so that the effect was to seem to cover her nipples without actually achieving anything of the sort.

Around them, the usual noise of people consuming caviar and paté resumed, almost as though they had been momentarily frozen in time and then the film had continued.

She licked her lips. "You are impressed by -- mon audace?" Her voice had thickened noticeably. "I am an -- une exhibitioniste..."

She rose, leaning over the small table and bracing herself with her arms. The blouse fell open again, treating him to both the sight and musky scent of her tits. He could have leaned forward slightly and engulfed each of them in his mouth.

Her low voice quivered with hunger. "Come with me to my apartment."

Monday, October 18, 2010

Mastering Mischief Collection by Leila Brown

Mastering Mischief (Collection)

by Leila Brown

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-450-4

Genre(s): Collections

Length: Collection

Soundwave is a Super who can bring down any man with her voice alone. And she's going to make sure General Pane pays up. But Pane has a score of his own to settle...

Soundwave's sisters are searching the galaxy to find her. Mirage has spent her life hiding behind her power to create illusions, shielding her heart from pain. But when their search for Soundwave casts the sisters as unwilling participants in a mating ritual for manticores, illusions will do them little good.

For Mischief, growing up with the power to move objects with her mind has been both a blessing and a curse. But when the twin beasts from Yarthax break through her defenses she'll learn that handing over control could be her most thrilling adventure yet.

Jetstream's a Super who can manipulate water in some extreme ways. He's also an assassin for hire. His latest target, Domino, is almost his. The question is, once he catches her, will he ever be able to let her go?

This collection contains the previously released novellas Soundwave's Surrender, Mastering Mirage, Making Mischief, and Dominating Domino.
Mastering Mischief

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.

Domino pressed the button on her sleeve to open the dock doors of her ship. She stomped on board. Rank sewer water squished from her boots with each step. The nasty sludge from the sluggo she'd just blasted covered her from head to toe in glowing green goop. Who knew the large slug-like creatures would burst like fucking balloons?

She'd been so careful in tracking that bastard Jetstream. Had him cornered on this little backwater underground world until he decided to slip through the sewer system. No amount of money was going to make her follow him down that shithole. If that sluggo hadn't charged her, she would have been nice and dry, off this nasty rock and on to another job. Let someone else do the fucking dirty work.

It took two seconds to engage autopilot and ten minutes to pull off all her gear and put it in a cleaning tube. She turned on the shower. Thank goodness for the new shower system she'd installed. The water would wash away this gunk and then be recycled and cleansed so she could use it again. The latest technology. Expensive technology.

No amount of money was worth wading through other people's feces.

The scalding water streamed down from four different spouts above her and washed her from front to back. Splash after splash sounded in the shower as the clumps fell from her hair and hit the floor. She shuddered as slime slithered down her back and over her hips with the water. Reaching up, she turned the dial in front of her to the soap setting, and the hot water turned into a sudsy warm stream. She scrubbed her hair, her arms and every inch of her body until she could no longer smell the monster's innards on her.

So what now? If she didn't complete this contract she'd find the next one paying way fucking less. Not to mention she didn't think she was going to find the Clone Federation so eager to do business with her. She couldn't afford to get on their bad side. Hell, no one could.

She switched the dial for the water to a muscle relaxing massage setting and sucked in a deep breath. The water soothed her tired, strained muscles. She didn't really need the water. She could have made do with the standard issue sanitizer that most vessels had, but she found her body liked the water, craved the sensation of droplets running down her skin.

She moaned as the water worked the muscles in her arms, her legs, her ass, her breasts... wait a fucking minute. When had the water ever massaged her breasts like that? Before she could step out of the shower, she watched a stream of water reach up from the floor of the shower and rush right up to her pussy. It splashed against her hairless mound like a playful slap on her sex. The warm water pushed against her, opening her up until it rushed freely against her tight bud. It seemed to stroke up and down against her clit. Her entire body shook with need as her nerves tingled with the ecstasy just outside her grasp.

This isn't right. As the thought invaded her brain, she found herself impaled on an invisible cock. It rocked in and out of her at a dizzying speed. The muscles of her cunt grasped it. This isn't right. Her shower wasn't equipped with a water dildo. Water dildo? Her head immediately cleared.

Domino stepped away from the water and out of the almost rectangular glass closet. The instant she was no longer in the shower the automatic shut-off cut the water supply. She pulled in a shaky breath and saw the water collect, pool and form the outline of a man. Jetstream. "Bastard."

"We didn't even get to the good part yet." His deep voice sounded slightly distorted by the water, giving it a vibrating twang.

Excerpt from Dominating Domino

Copyright 2010 Changeling Press, LLC

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Demon on the Dance Floor by Cynthia Sax

Demon on the Dance Floor

by Cynthia Sax

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-59596-940-8

Genre(s): Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Theme(s): Magic and Mayhem, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures

Length: Novella

Having lived for over three thousand years, Maximus -- a powerful blood demon -- thinks he has seen everything. That is... until a sexy vessel dances into his nightclub. Max has never met an unattached vessel before. They are rare and coveted by demons. He is determined to bond with the brave little brunette, keeping her for his eternal mate.

Unfortunately every other demon on the planet wishes to capture her powers. Can Maximus woo and win his freedom-loving Kayla or will an ancient rival use darker tactics to bind her?

Demon on the Dance Floor

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.

It was Friday night, and scantily-clad bodies writhed on the dance floor. Kayla moved to the pulsing rhythm, brushing against other dancers. She loved the decadent feel of skin. After a long week of little physical contact, she needed to touch. She looked up to the second level of the club. A man leaned against the railing, watching her. She needed to touch him.

His name was Maximus. Max to patrons. As far as she knew he had no last name. He didn't need one. Everyone knew who he was. What he was. The blood demon owned the club. He was wealthy, ancient, and powerful. No one messed with him.

She shouldn't mess with him either. She raised her hands, silently calling him to her. There was a flash of red in those demon black eyes. It could have been the strobe lights. Kayla fancied it to be desire. He slowly rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, exposing muscular forearms. Her body vibrated with anticipation. He did that before he danced with her.

He never danced with anyone else. Kayla knew she was deluding herself by thinking that meant something. He was a demon. She was a mere human. He stomped down the stairs. Patrons scattered before him. He was large, looming head and shoulders over the average man. Those shoulders were impossibly wide, accentuating a trim waist.

He made his way through the crowd to her. Kayla resisted the urge to run to him. Instead, she danced, knowing he would come to her. That dark intent was etched into his face. Max wasn't pretty boy handsome. His face was too wide and his chin too square. He was power personified. Black hair fell over his forehead. Kayla's fingers itched to push it back.

A tall blonde danced in front of her, and Kayla lost sight of Max. All she saw were big breasts bouncing. She closed her eyes, blocking out her new view. She didn't have to see that. She didn't have to see him. She felt him approach. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The music slowed to a throbbing primal beat. A big hand clasped her swaying hips.

That was what she needed. She needed Max's hands on her body. She leaned back into him, reaching up to wrap her fingers around the nape of his neck. His other hand slid under her halter top, his callused fingers rough against her stomach. She undulated against him, shamelessly brushing her ass against his crotch. He moved with her, pressing her into him. They were as one on the dance floor.

She lifted her chin and breathed in deeply. He smelled of expensive cologne and that distinctive scent that was all Max. That scent filled her body. They danced, lost in each other. Max's demon heat warmed her. He kissed and licked behind her ear. His fingers stroked an inch below her left breast, his touch making her pussy throb to the rhythm. It begged for release.

As if reading her thoughts, he turned her in his arms. This close, there was no mistaking his desire. His eyes glowed red. His jaw clenched. The throbbing in her pussy intensified.

He pulled her to him so she straddled his thigh, her short black skirt pulling up. Sweet heaven. She ground against him. He felt so good. His right hand was on her ass, his fingers cupping and squeezing. His left hand was between her breasts. Her breasts and legs quivered. She was going to come, right in the middle of the dance floor.

"Max," she cried out, her voice drowned out by the music. She clutched at his shoulders, frantic with feeling.

"Come for me, Kayla," he commanded. His voice, low and deep, reached down into her, pushing her toward pleasure. She was helpless to resist it.

The other dancers faded from her view. All she saw and felt and heard was him. He coaxed passion from her using ancient, crude-sounding words she did not know yet understood all the same. She rocked against him again and again, her fever building. She was burning.

"Max." She arched, sliding her pussy forward on his thigh, thrusting her breasts up. He bent his head, his hot mouth dragging along her curves, and she broke. The darkness of the club burst into the light of a thousand laser beams. She convulsed, shaking in his arms.

Copyright 2010 Changeling Press, LLC

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Storm in the Desert by S. Michael

Storm in the Desert

by S. Michael

Cover art: Angela Knight

ISBN: 978-1-60521-492-4

Genre(s): Paranormal

Length: Novella

Naomi's life is just what it should be. She has an adoring lover, a high-paying job, and all the right friends. She's also bored and feeling somewhat constrained by all this "normality." When she starts having dreams featuring her ex-lover Boston in full living detail, she isn't sure what to make of it. When those dreams turn into full blown life-like hallucinations, she's sure she's going crazy.

Artist Boston lives in the desert and he's been melancholic and unable to paint ever since Naomi left him. He misses her hot fire and fierce, wild presence in his life. With a little help from his Uncle Abe, and some judicious use of magic, he hopes to remind Naomi of what she's been missing ever since she left him.

Will his tampering with things metaphysical bring Naomi back to him? Or will it piss her off enough to keep her from ever wanting to see him again?

Storm in the Desert

S. Michael

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 S. Michael

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.

People who didn't live in the desert didn't understand how huge the moon looked, how fat and heavy, like a spotlight in the blackness.

Naomi wandered, the sand still sending heat up through her sandals, even as the wind chilled her, the temperature dropping like a stone in the water. Her bare arms goosepimpled up, the little white sundress no protection at all from the sudden threat of a storm.

God, she hated storms. Hated them -- so wild, loud. The thunder used to be enough to drive her into her closet, her daddy's soft laugh always coming to save her, rescue her.

Of course, you couldn't live like that, could you? No. God, that's why she'd moved to LA. Part of the reason. Because it had scared her, the thought of leaving everything had terrified...

She frowned, looking around, looking for a light, a house, a road. She'd wandered too far.

Warmth slid along her belly and grabbed her hip, soft air at her ear blowing away the illusion of her dream. "You're dreaming again, Naomi."

Tony's -- no, Harry's -- other hand slid through her hair, gently petting.

She gasped, the slide of her body on Harry's satin sheets bringing her all the way awake. Harry -- her smart, classy, gentle Harry -- was smiling at her, blinking slowly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"They're getting worse," he said softly. His short brown hair was sleep-tousled, flat on one side and standing up on the other.

"It was just a dream. Not a nightmare." Not that any of them were nightmares. Just... disturbing.

"A dream that wakes you up night after night. When was the last time you didn't have it?"

Harry got up, stretching, body hairless, muscles smooth and sculpted. He padded over to the gilt armoire and opened it, and then the little bar inside it, pouring a finger of scotch and bringing it over to her.

"It's nothing." He had the most precise, perfect hands. Surgeon's hands. Insanely talented hands. She took the drink, shuddering as she sipped it, as it burned all the way down.

Tony hated when she drank hard liquor, said she should only drink wine because it made her giggly, made her hot, made her...

God damn it.

Sitting down next to her, Harry traced a finger beneath one of her eyes. "Are you sure? I hate to see you looking so tired."

"You hate seeing imperfections in anyone." Harry wanted to fix her nose, her chin, her breasts, make her beautiful.

"Especially in you, darling." He took the glass from her fingers and finished the shot before kissing her, lips smooth and warm against her own.

She opened to him, pushed close, licking the scotch out of his lips. Oh. Yeah. Come on. She needed to forget, to lose herself. His tongue slid along hers, dancing together in his mouth. His hands moved her back, warming her skin as they passed.

She hummed, floating a little, nipples going tight as they rubbed against Harry's chest. Just like that, lover. Harry's fingers found the bundle of nerves at the base of her spine, playing them perfectly, bringing her skin alive.

"Oh. More." She arched, legs parting, sliding against Harry's, against the sheets. More.

"So sensual." He pushed her back against the sheets, hands moving around to slide up to her breasts, cupping them in those perfect hands.

Her nipples were tight, aching, needing him to touch her harder, make her feel it. His thumbs moved slowly, circling her nipples but not touching as his tongue slid along her neck.

Her hair came loose from its braid as her head tossed, bright red curls going everywhere. So gentle. Almost a tease. Tony had always pushed her, made her feel so much, almost too much, those dark eyes staring into her, artist's fingers painting her skin.

Finally, one thumb slid across her nipple, flicking, coming back to flick again and then pressing.

Naomi gasped, nodded. "Yes. Yes, just like that. Good."

"No, I think you like this better." Harry's mouth continued its downward journey, lips wrapping around one of her nipples and tugging.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, legs shifting and spreading as heat flooded her.

"God, you're so sexy."

She could feel the heat of his erection against her thigh, his hips rubbing against her.

"More. More, lover. Please." She reached down, fingers pushing between them, wrapping around his cock. Oh. Oh, she wanted.

Harry gasped and started fucking her hand. "Impatient." Still, one of his hands moved over her belly and down to tease over the shaved skin between her legs, shaved for him.

"Hungry." She pushed up, wanting his fingers on her clit, in her pussy, spreading her wide. "Just hungry."

"Always are after the dreams." He slid two fingers inside her, his thumb finding her clit, pressing hard before the touch softened, teased across the bundle of nerves over and over.

"Always am." She couldn't help it. The things she saw -- Tony bending her over the table and making her scream, Tony painting her nipples, flicking her clit with his brush...

Friday, October 15, 2010

Family Heirlooms: In Her Fantasies by Selena Illyria

Family Heirlooms: In Her Fantasies

by Selena Illyria

Cover art: Zuri

ISBN: 978-1-60521-499-3

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

Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage

Series: Family Heirlooms

Length: Novella

Tana has always fantasized about ménages, but due to past hurt, she's never asked Devin for one.

Devin wants to give the woman he loves what she wants. With the help of a family heirloom, she's about get the fantasy she's always wanted.

When it's all over, will their relationship remain intact, or will her fears drive him away?

Family Heirlooms: In Her Fantasies

Selena Illyria

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Selena Illyria

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 gentle chime of bells filled the air and mingled with the soft murmur of the crowd. Every once-in-awhile someone shouted in surprise and excitement as the telltale blare of trumpets heralded Jackpot for all to hear. Tana wove through the tables of the XanLax Resort, Spa and Hotel's dining area, allowing her serving platter to float ahead of her so she could concentrate on avoiding grabby hands.

"I'll be right with you, honey," she called out when a man raised his hand for service. "Hold on a second, sugars, your beer and cocktails are being mixed as we speak."

A wink here and a smile there helped avoid the shouting and angry swearing that usually followed a delay. Tana arrived at her destination unscathed and leaned down, allowing the side of her breast to brush against her patron's shoulder.

"Anything else I can get you, tiger?" She ignored the bolt of lust that shot straight to her core. Liquid heat pooled in her stomach, sliding down, dampening her panties. She said a silent thank you to the makers of her uniform for using the best patent leatherex money could buy. It was thin enough to feel the heat rolling off of the man in waves but didn't show the pebbling of her nipples.

He shifted in his seat. Steel gray eyes shot through with blue shards gazed up at her. A firm hand settled on her back, the weight not unwelcome. Lust coiled in her stomach as tingles of arousal shot through her pussy lips and down her thighs. She shifted slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice her response. The steady thrum of her heartbeat stuttered then increased as he stared at her, unabated heat revealed in his gaze. His eyes darkened to storm cloud gray. His hand moved down to trace the curve of her ass and stopped at the top of her thigh.

"You can allow me to take you home." His raspy, deep voice sent a heat flooding her body. She sucked in a breath as the world stopped for a moment. All she knew was his steely gaze and gruff voice.

Swallowing, she reached out a shaky hand to remove a wadded up napkin on his table before taking a step away from him. The pulse of heat didn't fade away with the small distance she put up. It only increased. His stare followed her movement, but he made no motion to push his chair toward her. Instead, he settled back with his body slumped in a relaxed pose. There was an energy there, just under the surface, like a predator ready to attack. He shifted again, turning more toward her.

Licking her lips, she answered him with as steady a tone as she could manage. "Sorry, tiger, my shift isn't over yet." She winked, ready to turn and leave this sexy temptation.

His voice stalled her. "What if I give you this?"

Biting her lip, she glanced over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. He waved a hundred credit chip at her. Whirling around, hand on her hip, she glared at him.

Opening her mouth, ready to give him a scorching retort, he held up his hand stopping her. "We can use this to get dinner and I can buy you drinks. No sex, promise."

The desire in his eyes still burned in dark gray heat that warned her of danger ahead. Pressing her lips together, she weighed her options. Pick up his beer and dump it on him or get a free meal? Decisions, decisions. Tana reached out and snatched the chip. "You owe me and I damn well better get a full body massage, Devin Montano. And chocolate -- the good kind." She placed the chip onto her serving platter and turned to leave. A giggle bubbled up inside of her. She put a bit more sway into her walk, and felt the heat of his gaze following her every move.

When she reached the bar area and put in her order, she deliberately leaned forward on the bar. She was quite thankful that her uniform was a bit on the short side. Tana looked down at her skirt. It stopped at mid-thigh with a crisscross corset design on either side. The black material shone in the bright overhead light, making the contrasting red thread stand out even more. Then there was the zippered corset with openings on either side of her top, showing off her smooth, even cocoa skin. The low sweetheart neckline showed off a lot of cleavage but clung to her breasts to ensure there would be no clothing malfunction -- much to her and all the other female servers' relief. The thigh-high, lace-top, sheer black stockings were a bit much. The thick soled platform heels with the thin stiletto spikes made her feet hurt just looking at them, but Devin thought she was sexy in her server outfit. Occasionally, he insisted on a bit of role play while she wore it.

Tana didn't mind in the least. If she wore this outfit, he'd wear his leather pants for her or a mock-up of his military uniform. She turned around and placed her elbows on the counter behind her, surveying the tables. Her gaze landed on his table and she smiled. He was still looking at her. He ran a hand though his wild, thick wavy hair that fell to the base of his skull. A wily strand fell over his eye.

Her fingers itched to brush it away. She took in his features: sharp jaw shadowed by golden brown hair, his sensuous lips curled into a smile. The tip of his tongue flicked out, moistening his lips. She wanted to scrape the sensitive flesh with her teeth, to suck his lips until they were red.

Moving her gaze upward, she took in the rest of his face: a straight nose turned upward at the end, hooded gray eyes framed by golden brown lashes. A high forehead was hidden by hanks of hair which continued to fall into his gaze, causing him to push them back. Normally he'd have slicked his hair back into a low ponytail, but even then tendrils would still escape to frame his face.

"Tana, you're up." A nudge at her arm caused her to tear her gaze away and turn around, almost grumbling for the interruption.

"I know, honey, I know. As soon as your shift is over, you can take that delicious piece of man home and have your wicked way with him. For now, customers and tips await you." The bartender, Novak, pointed toward her section and made a shooing motion.

"I know. I know." Placing the drinks on her tray, she input the data on which tables to go to and followed along after it. Handing out the orders was easy. It was avoiding the groping that took a bit of athletic ability, especially in five inch heels.

She made her way back to Devin's table. "Anything else, tiger?" Tana hadn't meant to sound so tired, but she couldn't help it. Her feet and back hurt, and there was the start of a wicked headache over her right brow that made her wince. Another trumpet blast had her shutting her eyes and praying the slot machine would explode.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Migraine?" Devin reached out, stroking his thumb over the pulse point at her wrist. The gentle sweeping motion soothed her, but the contact had heat racing up her arm and slipping down the center of her body to her pussy. Gritting her teeth, she fought to focus on the last part of her evening before she could return to the oasis of their home. She picked up the chip and handed it back to him.

"Get us dinner to go. I want to finish this day and get a nice hot bath before I cuddle with you and finish reading my book." Tana bent down, not caring if she was giving the table behind her or anyone else a show. With a gentle kiss on the lips, she brushed his hair back and straightened up.

He traced his fingers up her forearm before letting go. "You got it." Devin grabbed her hand again, placed a kiss over her pulse point and pushed back his chair. He swiped his credit card and headed out to the main floor of the casino.

For a moment, she watched his ass. The tight muscular cheeks moved up and down in his worn jeans, the back pockets faded from much use. Heat curled in her stomach as her panties dampened. She imagined feeling the heat of his skin, her nails biting into the firm flesh, the scent of sex and sweat in the air. Her cunt contracted.

Shaking her head, she pulled away from the fantasy. Later, she thought, before picking up his bottle and moving away to gather the rest of the discarded glasses, napkins and bottles. By the time her shift was over and she'd finished clean-up, Tana was more than happy to go home.