Monday, January 30, 2012

The Chosen: Ukko's Discovery by Shara Azod

The Chosen: Ukko's Discovery
by Shara Azod

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-60521-768-0
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Dark Fantasy
Theme(s): Magic, Dark Desire
Series: The Chosen (#1)
Length: Novella
Page Count: 34

Ukko is a general of the Spentas. He fears nothing, backs down from nothing, questions nothing -- until he finds something he can't explain. Who is this mysterious female with powers equal to his? Who sent her? What is her purpose? And the most important question of all -- why doesn't he care about any of that?
The Chosen: Ukko's Discovery
Shara Azod
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Shara Azod

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.

Nimah was in awe of the blond giant of a man she had gone to San Diego to find. A normal woman might have been freaked out to open her eyes and find herself deep in the heart of Finland. But when had her life ever been normal? She wished like hell she could answer his question, but the problem was she had no idea what she was. She just knew she was different. Always had been. A woman with no family, no history, no idea where she came from or why she could do the things she could. Her entire life she had known only one thing for sure -- one day she would meet this man, and she was meant to be here, in his arms.
Since puberty Nimah had dreamed of him. Ukko of Finland had been the number one constant in her life while all else had been transient. Abandoned at birth, she'd been raised in a series of foster and group homes until she'd turned eighteen. That was when she became aware of three very important things. The first was that she was very different from everyone around her. Her abilities were akin to something seen in a sci-fi movie. She'd had to hide all the things she could do from others all her life. Until now.
The second thing she'd been aware of since puberty was that one day she would meet this man, Ukko, and the gaping hole in the center of her soul would be filled. It made no sense in the conventional way of thinking, but Nimah had always known him. She had seen bits and pieces of his entire existence, an existence that spanned longer than recorded time.
The third thing that had been a constant in her life was the unseen threat always hovering in the shadows. Until tonight she'd never seen those who watched, constantly looking for her and others like her. She didn't know how she knew there were others, but she was as certain of it as she was that Ukko belonged to her, that she belonged to him.
If she wanted to she could will herself back to San Diego right this second. That was the last thing she wanted to do. Honestly, she hadn't wanted to run from him earlier, either. Even though Nimah had dreamed of Ukko, she'd never been able to find him. There was never enough detail in her dreams or visions to pinpoint his location until yesterday, when his location popped into her consciousness, followed by a burning need to go to him. It took nothing to be there; she'd simply closed her eyes and willed herself there. She'd left everything behind just for a chance to finally meet him.
But things went horribly wrong. The homeless man she'd helped seemed to call out to her. In some odd way he was important to her and her future. His mind had been so befuddled, a darkness clouding the thoughts trying to push through -- he wanted to tell her something. He was there for her, and Ukko. Generally she never took the chance to showcase any of her abilities. The unseen threat could find her like that. There was always a cold chill that warned her of their nearness -- a shadow that smelled of pure evil warned her to flee whenever she used any of her gifts.
Nimah had felt the moment Ukko spotted her. His disbelief at what he was seeing as she healed the homeless man, his confusion and suspicion, bombarded her like physical blows. As much as her body and soul cried out for him, her first impulse had been to run. It had been so hard to even think! Her pussy creamed, aching with every step. She wanted to stop and run into his arms, but she just couldn't.
So she'd run from him. Too intent on getting away from the man she wanted desperately but was suddenly unsure of, she'd missed the internal warning hardwired in her brain to disappear whenever an all-too-familiar chill raced down her spine. Their sudden appearance threw her. Expecting hideous, monstrous creatures, she was completely unprepared for the beautiful evil that tried to touch her.
Everything within her had rebelled at the wrongness of their touch. Repelling them had been remarkably easy, but Nimah knew without really knowing that it had been Ukko's presence that enabled her to create the energy that felled them. Then why was it that Ukko, who she knew instinctively was far more powerful than she, could not do as she had done?
"What are you, woman?" Ukko demanded yet again, crushing her body to him. He looked so deliciously furious. Confused and turned on at the same time. Even with his lips pressed into a tight line, they looked so amazingly kissable. Proof of his desire pressed insistently against her. She didn't mean to rub up against it, not really. The sharp tug on her hair in response made her moan, her nipples hardening against his chest.
"I'm yours." The words came out in a whisper of their own will. Nimah didn't expect for them to be received very well. What kind of a man wanted some random woman declaring herself to be his, despite the bizarre circumstances of this entire situation?
In response, his lips crushed hers this time. This kiss was as possessive as the first had been passionate. As if to confirm her statement, Ukko took everything, leaving her panting and breathless before abruptly stepping away. "You are no human woman." Nimah had no idea what he meant by that. As far as she knew she was human. Wasn't she? "You say you are mine, prove it."
"What -- what do you mean?" Her heart thundered in her chest. Had she been wearing underwear, they would have been sodden by now. Her jeans felt abrasive against the bare skin of her cunt. She had prepared for this.
With a wave of his hand, her clothing tore apart, falling at her feet. Though she knew he could have easily disrobed himself in a similar way, he stood fully clothed, his hands going to the fastening of his pants.
"Kneel, Nimah. Show me how much you are mine."

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Fallen by Megan Slayer

by Megan Slayer

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-759-8
Genre(s): Paranormal, Dark Fantasy, BDSM
Theme(s): Dark Desire
Length: Novella

Livia was cast out of heaven for the crime of falling in love with a human. So what's a fallen angel to do when she meets the man of her dreams? Falling certainly has its perks.
Ty didn't expect the angel at his party to be fallen or to have a murky past. He also didn't expect her to end up in his arms. Now he's not about to let the past stand in the way of their future.
Megan Slayer
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Megan Slayer

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.

Parties are so lame.
Livia crossed her arms and stared at the people swaying before her. Hard rock blasted from the speakers and rumbled the floor. She flicked a lock of her hair over her shoulder. Dancing, laughing, and more than enough drinking. She sighed. When was the last time she'd danced and laughed? Hell. She couldn't remember.
She wanted to dance, to wrap her arms around a torso thick with muscle, to rest her head on a taut set of pecs and hear the heartbeat of a red-blooded male like the one she'd drooled over in her history course. He'd mentioned throwing an event. She wanted to see him, to see if he was actually like the persona she'd created for him in her mind.
She snorted. Meeting a guy was probably not the best reason to attend a costume party off campus, but who cared? It wasn't like she had anyone keeping tabs on her.
A young man dressed as a gladiator ambled toward her. "Hel-lo, beautiful." A wide grin curled his lips. His blond hair flopped over his brow as he winked and pointed to her with his sloshing cup. "You shouldn't stand in the corner alone. Might get your wings dirty."
Wings? She crooked one brow. She'd come as a Madonna look-alike, not an angel. When she glanced over her shoulder, sure enough, her wings were there -- translucent, but there. Odd. "They'll wash." Her wings had been ripped off over two thousand years prior. When - and how -- the hell had they come back?
"Yeah?" He wobbled on his feet. "Feathers work in a washing machine?" He burped and his dark eyes widened. "I made a funny." He swayed again and splashed beer onto her bustier.
Livia gritted her teeth. This wasn't the man she had in mind. Her dream man didn't slop alcohol on anyone -- as far as she knew. Was the man in her mind simply a figment of her imagination? An impossibility? Probably. She'd been around far too long and seen more than her share of good men fall by the wayside.
At least washing the beer stench out of her clothes wouldn't be too difficult.
"So, do ya wanna go make out?" He licked his lips. "I'm a great kisser, and I bet you do wonders with those tits."
"Go home, Brett."
Livia's blood turned to fire in her veins. The deep, gravelly voice set her nerves on edge. If the drunken fool would just blow, she could at least see the guy who'd come to her aid. If he was Tyler from history class, then even better.
"Butt out, Ty." Brett smacked his lips. "We were gonna have sex. Me and those lovelies." He reached out, hands hovering over her chest. "Come to Brett. Again."
Again? Who was this clown? "I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man alive," Livia snapped and slapped his hands away. "You spilled beer on me, and you're an ass."
"You'd know." He swayed into her personal space and murmured in a much less slurred tone, "I never forgot you."
Never forgot her? What the hell was this guy drinking? She stared at the drunken gladiator. Nothing about him really stood out. Still, at her age, everything looked a little familiar. He couldn't possibly be him. Isaiah was dead. She'd seen him die over three centuries ago.
"Okay, time for Brett to go home. I don't want shit on my carpet, and she's not interested." The owner of the deep voice stepped out from behind Livia and grabbed Brett's arms. Her jaw dropped. This man was the man. The man. Tyler Wilson embodied her innermost desires, and he was right there protecting her.
Lean muscle filled out Ty's tall frame. What would it feel like to have his hands on her body? To run her fingers through his thick, dark hair and listen to him murmur dirty things as they explored each other's bodies -- what would it be like? A flash of bodies moving together and the look of sheer lust in his blue eyes filled her mind. Oh, good God, it would be almost heaven. Her pussy clenched and liquid heat coated her panties.
If he felt the heat, too. She couldn't hope to be so lucky again. The run-in with Brett or whoever he was had served as a cold reminder of what she'd fallen for and couldn't have.
Both men moved through the throng of people and disappeared. She should stick around and find out if Ty was interested or if he was just keeping an eye on his property. Not that she could blame him. Dumped beer could be murder on a sound system. Not that her opinion mattered much. She was just a partygoer like everyone else there. She folded her arms. Every moment she waited, her conscience ate into her a little more. Waiting made her look weak. It made her look needy. Was she needy?
Maybe. Damn.
No. She'd waited long enough. If he really wanted to talk to her, he'd have come back. She turned and made her way to the apartment door and rummaged through the pile of coats, looking for hers. Guys like Ty had women chasing them in swarms. She'd been witness to that every time she walked out of the Saunders Building. She wasn't going to follow him around like a damned puppy. Coat in hand, she turned toward the door. She plowed into a scantily clad tiger giggling with a cowboy.
"Watch it," the tiger snapped. "Nice wings, though. Costume outlet, or did you get them online? I've been looking for some just like them. I want a set. Michael, buy me some like that."
Livia rolled her eyes. The truth was much too involved. Obscure always worked. "I don't remember."
The cowboy tipped his hat. "Wanna join in?" He bobbed his brows, and his gaze went straight to her chest. "We're always looking for more, and looking at those boobs, you'd be one hell of a third."
"Michael! You said I was the only one," she squealed. "No more thirds."
Michael shrugged. "Can't blame me for asking." He turned his attention back to Livia. "You in?"
If they only knew what she'd done during her lifetime. "I'm good. No thanks." Livia ducked her head and stepped out into the hallway. She didn't look up until she hit the stairwell door.
Finally. Freedom.
Livia stopped on the landing and stared up at the sky through the round stairwell window. Her heart ached. He was out there somewhere. The one man to complete her. Was he still alive? Had she'd only imagined his death? Or was she doomed to walk the Earth for the rest of eternity, alone?
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. It was foolish to pine for the assumed dead, especially when they'd parted so badly. Still, Isaiah held her heart and her life in his hands, just as he'd had for the last couple thousand years.
Footsteps thumped behind her, but she didn't bother to look up.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Dragonfire: Chosen by BJ McCall

Dragonfire: Chosen
by B.J. McCall

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-744-4
Genre(s): Action Adventure/ Suspense, Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures
Series: Dragonfire
Length: Novella

A thousand years ago, two dragon clans went to war over a cache of gold. To end the war a sorcerer hid the gold and foretold of the birth of a female bearing the mark of the dragon.
Born with a dragon on her hip, Karis Nordrath is the chosen and because the mark she's been guarded all of her life. According to legend the location of the gold will be revealed when the chosen is bonded with her dragon mate, but the only dragon that stirs Karis' fire is bodyguard, Rett Aurumon.
Rett left the Fire Mountains to follow a wanderlust he couldn't explain until he laid eyes on Karis. Hired as her bodyguard, Rett doesn't know if his true role is protector or mate. He doesn't know Karis is the chosen, but he knows she's the one.
Dragonfire: Chosen
B.J. McCall
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 B.J. McCall

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.

Rett Aurumon stood in the front foyer of Gaden Hazac's apartment waiting for his client. He walked to the end of the foyer, careful not to step into the spacious living room of glass, chrome and leather. The room had all the warmth of the man who lived within its pale gray walls.
Barefoot and wearing a pair of black sweats, Hazac entered the living room. "She'll be ready shortly. Her hair was mussed."
The tone of the lawyer's voice and his lack of clothing got the point across. Hazac wanted Rett to know he and Miss Nordrath had had sex. Rett had often wondered why the man felt it necessary to make this point to a bodyguard. Rett liked his job and his growing feelings for the woman he was hired to protect were disturbing, but he was certain of one thing. He disliked Gaden Hazac. "Thank you, Mr. Hazac."
The lawyer walked over to a wet bar and poured himself a drink. Then Hazac turned his back on Rett and stared out the window at the city skyline.
Rett hadn't expected his client's boyfriend to engage him in conversation, and he'd never been invited into the living area of the apartment. He didn't mind remaining in the foyer without benefit of restroom or a drink of water. The job required hours of tedious waiting. At least Rett didn't have to listen to Hazac and his client making love.
The driver called to tell Rett the armored vehicle was in front of the building. Rett disconnected and his client entered the living room. Her dark gold hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders. She wore a bright blue blouse that complemented her eyes and a gray skirt that accentuated her trim figure. Rett longed to let his gaze drift slowly down her shapely legs to the high heels she wore, but he kept his focus.
Hazac hustled to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Hey, baby." When Hazac leaned down to kiss her, Miss Nordrath turned so that his lips brushed her cheek. She looked at Rett. "Is the car ready?"
"Waiting out front, Miss Nordrath."
His client stepped back, extricating herself from Hazac. "Goodnight, Gaden."
"I'll call you tomorrow," Hazac said.
Rett opened the front door and checked the hallway. As he escorted his client out of the apartment, Rett glanced at Hazac. "Goodnight, Mr. Hazac."
The lawyer glared at him, then downed his drink.
When they reached the elevator, Rett pushed the call button. "Did you have a nice evening, Miss Nordrath?"
She sighed. "Not one of my best."
They stepped into the empty elevator. "Are you headed home, Miss?"
"Yes, thank you."
As the car descended, Rett took advantage of the private moment to admire his client. She was twenty-seven, stunningly beautiful, with a generous smile and a musical laugh. Her features were delicate, her pale golden skin was flawless, her neck graceful, her breasts nicely rounded, her waist trim, her ass perfect and her legs long.
And the dreams she wrought were making his nights pure agony.
She glanced at him and smiled. Rett was sure she'd caught him looking, but was saved by the loud ding of the elevator bell, announcing they'd descended to the lobby floor. The doors opened. Rett stepped out first and checked the building's foyer before his client exited the car.
He repeated the security check as they exited the building.
"Rett, why don't you call me Karis?"
Because I need the reminder that I'm just an employee.
"I'm following instructions, Miss."
"My father's instructions? You have my permission to call me Karis."
"Thank you, Miss."
He opened the back door of the Nordrath vehicle. Karis' car was heavily armored with a trained driver at the wheel. Rett rarely left her side. She climbed into the vehicle, then looked up at Rett and grinned. "You're not going to do it, are you?"
He grinned back. "No, Miss."
Rett shut the heavy door. He'd never say it out loud, but that wouldn't stop him from thinking of her as Karis.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Star Prince by Ashlynn Monroe

Star Prince
by Ashlynn Monroe

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-758-1
Genre(s): Futuristic, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Dark Desire, Alternative Universe
Length: Novella
Page Count: 81

Tasmin Robins has worked hard to earn her coveted diplomatic internship on the mysterious imperial world of Aurora. Driven and smart, though occasionally impulsive, Tas has a ten-year plan -- and it doesn't include love.
When Tasmin risks her life to save a stranger, she has no idea her sacrifice will leave her fate entwined with the most powerful man on Aurora -- DeMarcus Le'JeMur, Prince of the Stars and Ruler Of The Seven Kingdoms, ruler of the planets under Aurorian control.
When DeMarcus impulsively declares he owes Tasmin a life debt, she must convince the Imperial Council to grant them both their freedom. But after a night of erotic delights with the sexy alien, will she be able to let him go?
Star Prince
Ashlynn Monroe
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Ashlynn Monroe

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.

"Stay down!" Tasmin Robins pulled the man at her side behind the large refuse bin. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled low on his face and sunglasses, hiding his expression.
Screams from her fellow humans made the usually quiet terminal chaotic. Glistening metallic and marble surfaces usually made the shuttle port's loading dock feel orderly and sterile in an utterly comforting way, reminding her of her home back on Earth. Now the shining surfaces reflected laser fire from a source she couldn't pinpoint.
Ball cap guy tried to stand up again. Her hand was small, but she managed to snag a substantial handful of his oversized blue sweatshirt. She yanked sharply, pulling him back down. His faded blue jeans made a small tearing sound as the rip over his right knee widened.
"Je'L afremtal," he cursed in a language she hadn't expected to hear.
"You aren't from Earth. Why are you here? These ships are for Earth Embassy personnel only." Tasmin did her best to stop glaring at the interloper. He wasn't the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last, to try to score a free ride to Earth.
"You know nothing." With his heavily accented comment, he managed to convey a rude superiority she found instantly irritating.
"I know you're going about visiting my home planet the wrong way. It's gotten a lot easier to get a visa now. Only a criminal would need to sneak onboard an embassy flight," Tasmin hissed.
She paused, her eyes round and her mouth forming a subtle Ohh. "Are they shooting at you, specifically?" she whispered, hearing the horror in her own voice upon realizing she was hiding from an unseen gunman with his probable target.
"Yes, but not because I am criminal." The man's English was good, but not perfect. "Stay down, woman!" He abruptly crouched and began to move to the left, around the corner.
Tasmin saw the red dot on his back. The shooter had his laser fixed on the Aurorian. Without thinking about the consequences of her reckless action, she sprang forward, pushing the man down. Pain radiated through her middle. A gasp escaped her lips as she fell. Lying on the cold marble floor, she saw a red trail creeping across the smooth white marble in front of her face.
Blood. Her blood. Transfixed at the sight, she lay quietly while chaos erupted around her. Tasmin felt cold. Strangely, she could hear screaming and shouting, but no more shots. Blinking, she cleared the moisture from her eyes. They'd watered, but she wasn't crying. Weak tears weren't in her nature. She hurt too much to move. All she could do was listen.
"Je'L huten le grubi Me'L?"
She tried to make sense of another male voice. He, too, spoke in Aurorian. This part of the terminal was human only. Why so many aliens in the restricted area? she wondered through the haze of pain. Her fuzzy mind strained to translate. She'd studied hard when she learned she was coming to Aurora for her internship. She spoke the language better than some of the long-term personnel. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Focus.
"My prince, are you hurt?" She was almost positive she'd translated correctly.
My Prince? It can't be.
Medical staff began to swarm around her.
"Leheck leheim ge ha Je'L Velhum." See to the woman, your prince has commanded it.
The Star Prince. I can't believe it.
The paramedics murmured humbly at their liege. More aliens where they shouldn't be. She could see the boots of both human and Aurorian soldiers swarming around him, protecting the valuable man.
She saw her reflection in the mirrored door across from where she'd fallen. Her long auburn hair lay tangled around her. She could see it absorbing some of her pooling blood. Her normally fair completion was ghastly white. She already looked dead.
Tas could see her charred wound, and her internal organs. She stared into her own big brown eyes, unable to look any lower. Her wound was horrifying, survival unlikely. Her mother and sister would be so sad. I just wish I could tell them I'm sorry.
"Tetung Valumspar. Hejar L' Vomek." I owe her a life debt. She belongs to me.
What he'd said didn't frighten her because she didn't think she'd live long enough to worry about the consequences of his proclamation. She couldn't hold on any longer. Even with the realization that she'd just saved the life of the Star Prince, the most powerful man in all of Aurora, the man who ruled the seven kingdoms, she couldn't keep her eyes open. Her lashes fluttered. Darkness overcame her and her mind shut off.
* * *
The sound of dripping woke Tasmin from her deep, dreamless sleep. She forced her blurry eyes open. Her mouth felt as dry as dust. The window was open and a slight breeze ruffled the gauzy pale peach curtains. The walls were the same shade. Her body hurt. Turning away from the window, she noticed a large bank of medical monitoring equipment, all of it Aurorian design. She could tell she wasn't in a hospital, but there was nothing in the small room to indicate where she actually was.
"Oh... ow... ouch, fuck," she muttered, forcing herself to sit up in the bed. On the wall across from her sat a long table filled with bouquets, rows of them. They also covered the floor under the table. Many looked wilted, and it made her wonder just how long she'd been out of commission.
Looking down, she noticed the huge hole in her body was gone. She wore a sheer light nightie in a color she'd never seen on Earth. The only way to describe it was blue with a dark pink sheen. There was more to the color, but she just didn't have any reference on Earth to describe it. She felt a sensation akin to joy just looking at the way the garment shimmered, reflecting the light. Many colors and scents on Aurora were so multidimensional that they actually caused physical reactions in humans.
The style of her scant clothing reminded her of something a sexy genie might wear. Blushing, she couldn't help but wonder who'd dressed her in the garment. Moreover, how many people had seen her naked, unconscious body?

Monday, January 16, 2012

Lionsblood Collection by Marteeka Karland

Lionsblood (Collection)
by Marteeka Karland

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-60521-766-6
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Collections
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Audio Books
Series: Lionsblood
Length: Collection
Page Count: 165

In Earth's brutal, future frozen, humans are no longer at the top of food chain. Paranormals roam the frozen wastes, laying claim to whatever they can defend. Humans are tolerated by some, but not all of the new species.
The most vicious of the new races are the Lionsblood. No one dares defy a Lionsblood. These predators take what they want and never look back. These men are as protective as they are dangerous -- especially when it comes to their chosen mates.
This collection contains the previously released novellas Lionsblood, Lionsmate, Lionsbane, and Lionsheart.
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Marteeka Karland
Excerpt from Snowbound: Lionsblood

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.
"What?" The familiar masculine growl of her long time friend Klark almost made Marie sob with relief when he answered on the third chime.
"Klark, I'm so sorry to call this late." She had probably awakened him from his nightly hibernation. Most lionsblood were already deeply asleep by two hours past nightfall. It protected them from the bitter cold that blanketed the northern hemisphere of Earth at night. Not that the temperature was much better during the day. Given the fact that he'd answered at all, he probably hadn't settled down yet for the night.
"Don't worry about it. What's wrong?" He knew her too well. Unless she missed her guess, Klark wouldn't let her gloss anything over. He'd make her tell him everything before the night was out.
"Nothing's wrong, I just need a ride home."
There was a long pause.
"Where are you?"
She took a deep breath. This was the hard part. "Shiffley's Bar."
Again, there was silence.
"Do you have the gem I gave you?"
Marie blinked several times, the question catching her off guard. "Yes." She didn't dare tell him she'd made it into a necklace she never took off.
"Go to Shiff. Show him the stone. He'll put you in a safe room. Do not leave that room."
The link went dead, and Marie cringed. They'd been friends too long for her to hope he'd let this drop. He might not question her tonight, but there would be a grilling, and Klark never stopped until he had all the information he wanted. Not only that, but given Klark's temper, things didn't bode well for her tonight.
She did as he instructed and was shown to a tiny room. She sat down on the bed. The one window was laser-proof and tinted, but she could still see the perpetual drifts of snow that blanketed the landscape outside. Shiff, the vampire lionsblood hybrid, kept the room as a haven for humans caught out in the violent night. Not only were the preternaturals and immortals deadly to humans, but the night turned the Earth into a frozen wasteland in excess of 100 degrees below zero in the summer, and 150 below in the winter. The only things keeping humans alive were the underground farms and the few above ground "safe rooms" the hybrids built for their "pets." This safe room was impenetrable, and impossible to leave unless Shiff allowed it.
When the heavy titanium door burst open, only to slam shut so hard her insides shook, naturally she nearly jumped out of her skin. What a time for him to choose to remind her of the strength of a lionsblood. In this world, the lionsblood were at the top of the food chain.
"Jesus Holy God!" She was at once relieved to see Klark standing there, but her relief was short lived. He looked livid.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Protect and Serve 13: The Big Blue by Anne Kane

Protect and Serve: The Big Blue
by Anne Kane

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-754-3
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Men and Women in Uniform
Series: Protect and Serve
Length: Novella

Polar bear shifters are rare these days, and most of them keep a low profile. Tundra knows the rules, but tonight she needs to get laid and it will take a strong man to satisfy her.
Alec's buddies call him the Big Blue, and they're closer to the truth than most of them know. Trolls have a nasty reputation in this brave new world.
The very first time Tundra sees Blue, she knows she has to have him. What she doesn't realize is that she'll never want to let him go. When Alex goes to confront the head of a vicious Cabal, Tundra follows to make sure he doesn't get hurt. After all, even a troll's hide isn't as thick as a polar bear's.
Protect and Serve: The Big Blue
Anne Kane
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 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.

I stalked across the bar and hauled myself up onto one of the few empty barstools. It looked like the entire neighborhood had decided to drown their sorrows at the same time. At least that meant there was a good selection of men available. Good thing, because right now I was feeling hornier than a werewolf during the full moon, and pissed enough not to be too picky about whom I chose to spend the night with. Talks with my self-appointed guardian Tyrone always had this effect on me. Make that monologues. I don't think I'd managed to get in more than two words during the entire fiasco.
I waved my hand to catch Sam's attention, and motioned him to bring me a drink. Sam had been bartending at Joe's Bar long enough to know what I wanted. I swiveled the chair and surveyed the room, considering my options. The three guys at the pool table weren't bad looking, and there were a few likely candidates at a table in the far corner, but they all looked just a tad too civilized for my taste tonight. I was in the mood for something wild.
A gust of wind drew my attention to the door. The man who entered sent heat curling deep in my gut. Civilized was the last word that came to mind. Hard. Wild. Uncivilized. Yeah, those described him to a T.
A riot of dark hair curled all the way to the blue uniform stretched tight across his huge shoulders. He reminded me of the football players at the inner city stadiums, wide and covered with thick ropes of muscle. A tingle of anticipation raced through me. His dark eyes swept the room with cynical disinterest as he shouldered his way through the noisy crowd, and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to notice me.
"He's trouble, Tundra. Don't even think about it." Sam slapped the beer down in front of me, breaking the spell.
"You know him?" I ignored the bartender's frown. I was way past needing someone to vet my dates. "I don't remember seeing him in here before."
Sam nodded. "Alex is a loner, a beat cop down at the precinct. He doesn't come in here often. Last time he did, it took me two days to clean up the mess." He leaned forward, lowering his voice so I had to strain to hear his words. "I heard a rumor that there's a troll somewhere in his family tree, and I'm inclined to believe it."
"Really." I swept my tongue across my suddenly dry lips as I watched the slide of tight material over his ass. "That could make things very... interesting." Sam snorted and shook his head as I took a long pull on my drink. "That's one word for it. Don't say I didn't warn you!"
I laughed, throwing him a saucy grin as I slid off the barstool. "Warning duly noted. Wish me luck!" Turning my back on his disapproving frown, I wound my way through the dense crowd toward my target.
He'd taken a seat at a small table and was watching the trio at the pool table mangle a simple game of spots and stripes. One of the scantily clad waitresses swooped in to deposit a drink in front of him, bending forward so far that I fully expected her ample bosoms to fall out of the low-cut bodice of her dress. She had better not be under the impression that she stood a chance with him, because I was more than willing to get into a fight tonight. A little pre-coitus bloodshed would be just a bonus.
The man tossed some credits at her, and she flounced away to take orders from another table. I found myself feeling mildly disappointed. I hadn't been in a good fight in at least two moons. Wouldn't hurt to get in a little practice.
Reaching my destination, I pulled out the other chair at the table and sat down beside my target. I took my time assessing him close up, letting my gaze wander from the tips of his serviceable boots and up his muscular legs to the impressive bulge at his groin. Looked like I wouldn't have to work too hard to get what I wanted.
I took another gulp of my beer and considered the vast expanse of his chest, barely covered by the tight uniform. A unicorn tattoo on his biceps seemed incongruous with the rough attitude, and being my usual tactful self, I decided not to mention it.
Yeah, right. Me? Tactful? "So what's with the prissy little horse?" I nodded at the tattoo. "Lose a bet or something?"
I found myself staring into the darkest eyes I'd ever encountered; pools of liquid heat. For a moment, I thought I'd blown my chance of playing ride-em cowboy with him, but then the corners of his eyes crinkled and he let out a bellow of real, straight-from-the-gut laughter. It made him look even hotter, which I hadn't thought possible. My libido kicked into high gear, and I could feel the liquid heat gathering at the apex of my thighs. Idly, I wondered if he'd go for the direct approach and save us both some time. I decided not to risk it.
"The prissy little horse has a certain sentimental value that I only share with close friends." The man's eyes swept over me with obvious interest. "Do I know you?"
I decided to play it cool and mysterious. Who knows? It worked on those old video flicks they showed on public TV. "Not yet, but the night is young." Okay, that just sounded stupid. I smiled in what I hoped was a seductive manner. "My name is Tundra."
A slow, sexy smile turned his face into an open invitation -- one I had every intention of accepting. When he spoke, his voice had the smooth, deep inflection of a very old bottle of expensive whiskey. "That's a very unusual name. Nice to meet you, Tundra."
He held his hand out and I stared at it like an idiot. He wanted to shake hands? Not exactly what I'd envisioned, but hey, it was a start. I took his hand and shook it. It was big. Real big. Heat crawled up my spine as I imagined it caressing my breasts. Or sliding across my naked ass. "Nice to meet you too..." I arched my eyebrow as it occurred to me I had no idea what his name was.
The smile widened. "Alex. But most people just call me Big Blue."
I took a long drink, letting the silence stretch out. "Big Blue. How interesting. Referring to your uniform, I assume?"
He chuckled. "Well, that would be the Blue part."
"And the Big?" It took all my self-control to keep my gaze from straying to that thick bulge at his groin.
He kept eye contact, the grin on his face taking on a mischievous look as he reached for my hand and drew it slowly toward his lap. He didn't say anything else. He didn't have to. Under my questing fingers, that huge lump grew even bigger. Big Blue indeed! "Oh my."

Monday, January 09, 2012

Razor's Edge-- Good Neighbors by Clarice Clique

Razor's Edge: Good Neighbors
by Clarice Clique

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-60521-917-2
Genre(s): Razor's Edge Press, Hot Flashes, BDSM
Theme(s): Interracial/MultiCultural, Ménage, Bisexual and More
Length: Hot Flash
Page Count: 21
In a state of undress, getting ready for work in the morning, a woman glances out of her window and sees her female neighbor staring back at her. An adventure of voyeurism and teasing begins, but where will it end?
Good Neighbors
Clarice Clique
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Clarice Clique

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 first time was an accident.
A typical Monday morning, running around wildly, making a mess of everything. I grabbed my mug for a last gulp of coffee and splattered it over my blouse. I pulled it off, yanking a button loose in the process. I searched through my wardrobe, throwing my skimpy party tops to the side, praying that I had another clean office top. Finally I found one, but the material was too thin. You could see through it to my lacy bra, and through that to the dark circles of my nipples. I took a deep breath, pulled the new blouse and the bra off, and looked for more appropriate underwear. With a plain bra in my hand, I turned to glance at my alarm clock. But it wasn't the time that caught my attention. Out of the corner of my eye, through the window, I saw her. And I froze.
I'd never bothered with blinds on the bedroom window of my little terraced house. It overlooked farm fields and the garden of one big detached house, and I'd never seen any need to obscure my view for the sake of privacy. I knew a man and a woman lived in the detached house from glimpsing them in their garden occasionally, but I never saw them out and about in the village, and if I had we weren't even on the "Hi, how are you?" level of casual acquaintances.
Yet, here I was, dressed only in my stockings and office skirt, staring straight into the eyes of my neighbor.
My heart thumped in my chest and I seemed unable to move and do the simple thing of drawing the curtains, or even put a modest hand over my naked breasts. Instead I gazed into the teasing green eyes of the woman who was staring unabashedly at me. She was wearing a short summer dress that moved with the morning breeze, allowing me to appreciate how slim and long her white legs were. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders. If anyone had asked me before, I would have struggled to recall whether she was blonde or brunette. In the light of the morning sun, I could clearly see all the different colors -- red, brown, gold, light and darker strands mingling together to create a vision of beauty.
I felt giddy looking at her and forced myself to drop my gaze. My eyes lowered to the curve of her chest pushing against the material of her dress.
Color rushed to my cheeks. I stepped forward, pulled the curtains closed and tried to focus my mind on getting ready for the work day. As I put my bra on, I looked down at the pink-brownness of my nipples. Had my neighbor been able to see how hard they were from where she was standing?

Sunday, January 08, 2012

Wild Things: Fanged by Jocelyn Michel

Wild Things: Fanged
by Jocelyn Michel

Cover art: Karen Fox
ISBN: 978-1-60521-731-4
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Vampires, Werewolves
Series: Wild Things
Length: Novella
Page Count: 37

Cassidy's searching for mythical monsters in Romania, but she has no clue Andrei, her guide, is just what she's hunting!
Cassidy Kerrigan has reluctantly left her computer to assume the role of host for a brand new prime-time monster hunt called Wild Things. Relying heavily on her hunky guide/cameraman, Andrei Dinu, she crosses the ocean to explore the mountains of Romania.
Her assignment? Prove or debunk once and for all the werewolf myth. But the weather doesn't cooperate, and when rain drives them into a cave, Cass begins to suspect that Andrei is more than he seems. Can mutual passion overcome her fears? And what will happen when the werewolf of myth proves to be much, much more?
Wild Things: Fanged
Jocelyn Michel
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Jocelyn Michel

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 slowly turned, overwhelmed by my exotic surroundings. Instead of the smog, pricey boutiques and crazy traffic that were LA, I saw intricately carved barns, restored peasant houses and a castle straight out of a Dracula movie. Romania. Wow. It was hard to believe that barely a month ago, I'd sat across the desk from a couple of producers at Earth Broadcasting Network, pitching my idea for a new series that I'd called Wild Things. The concept? A rugged male hunk of a host would tramp all over the planet in search of world myths to prove or debunk them. Since there were already primetime monster hunts out there and EBN preferred an R rating, I'd stipulated that his only companion must be a sexy female guide/photographer. If our pair had the right chemistry, our targeted demographic would watch every week just to find out whether or not they'd hooked up.
How could I have guessed that the network CEO, my estranged father Sean Kerrigan, wouldn't green light the pilot unless I took on the role of host? Me, the klutz who'd never even slept in a backyard tent. A chauvinist in the throes of a midlife crisis, Dad had dumped my mom for a younger model eight months ago. I'd ignored him ever since -- no visits, no phone calls, no texts. And if we passed each other in the hall, I kept my shoulders squared and my eyes straight ahead. Was this his way of getting back at me for all the cold shouldering? I was sure of it. Could I have simply blown him off? Not with my rent, car payment and credit card debt. I was overdue for a killer idea, and this was definitely it. So now I fumed, even though I stood smack in the middle of the most beautiful scenery in the world.
"Cass! There you are." My prissy director, Beau Truman, motioned for me to join him in front of the castle, which I knew dated from the twelfth century. Yeah, I'd done my homework and might actually have appreciated this incredible opportunity just a little if I hadn't known my jerk of a dad was behind the scenes, yanking my strings.
I walked over. "Morning, Beau."
"How are you feeling, luv?"
"Fine, so far." I lied, of course. At the moment I didn't have butterflies in my stomach, I had bats -- big ones -- which made sense, I guess. Transylvania was just a stone's throw away.
"Good. I want to introduce you to your gorgeous guide." Though Beau winked, he looked at me a little anxiously, probably because I'd confided my doubts about surviving in the wild. Not that I wasn't physically fit. I was, thanks to another bill that had to be paid -- gym membership. I also had camera skills, a result of my college degree. But I didn't have a clue how to find and protect myself from wolves, or in this case werewolves, the terrifying myth that was my first quest. Just getting to Romania had been challenging enough. I'd have to rely heavily on my guide to get me where I needed to be and keep me safe.
Beau led me to a tan Land Rover that had definitely seen better days. The driver's door stood open. Behind the wheel sat a good-sized guy with one weathered boot planted on the ground. From the back, I could see that he had shaggy dark hair, wide shoulders and long legs. He wore what I'd call safari gear, as did I -- khaki pants with lots of pockets and a button shirt with the kind of sleeves that I could push up and secure with a tab. Mine was OD green; his was red. I liked his better.
"Andrei, this is Cassidy Kerrigan. Cass, Andrei Dinu."
My guide got out of the vehicle and turned to face us. Nothing could've prepared me for his eyes -- glacial blue with long, thick lashes. I'd have killed for peepers like that. Mine were almost as black as my hair. Not unusual for the "Dark Irish," but definitely not the blue-eyed blond look I'd always admired.
As for the rest of Andrei Dinu -- the tall, well-proportioned, muscular rest of him -- well, my pussy zinged to life. Annoyed, I ruthlessly quelled my lust. If there was ever going to be a time to ignore my sexual impulses, this would be it.
I offered my hand. "Nice to meet you."
Andrei shook it, checking out my French-tipped nails. Feeling dwarfed by his height and slightly intimidated, I jerked my hand away and stuck it behind my back. His expression never changed, but I got the distinct feeling he disapproved. His cool appraisal, which started at my ponytail and traveled to the toes of my snazzy new hiking boots -- pink camo, no less -- pretty much proved it. That rankled. Though I was only five-three, I had as much heart as he did, and no woman on the planet had ever been more determined to succeed.

Saturday, January 07, 2012

State of Affairs by Dany Sirene

State of Affairs
by Dany Sirene

Cover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-756-7
Genre(s): Dark Fantasy
Theme(s): Ménage, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay and Lesbian
Length: Novella
Page Count: 63

Jade Harron has been tapped for a very delicate mission. Twin kingdoms, at war for ages, only have one chance at alliance: union by marriage. But someone doesn't want the warring kingdoms united. No way the king's willing to put his daughter's neck on the line! But he's got the perfect spy for the role -- half-Elf and cross-dressing courtesan Jade Harron, of course.
Somehow Jade's not convinced Prince Keandre will be all that pleased when he discovers their deception. Then again, what will they do if the prince prefers to keep his Elven "Bride"? And then there's Jade's former lover, Gareth, Captain of Prince Keandre's guard and keeper of his secrets... and secret desires. Gareth knows far too much about Jade's past. Will he expose Jade for who he is? Or coerce him back to his bed?
Jade has a feeling no matter how this ill-conceived affair turns out, his life will never be the same. Danger, deception, espionage and unbridled lust -- all politics as usual in this decadent court.

State of Affairs
Dany Sirene
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Dany Sirene

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.

Holding up the flouncy skirts with the easy grace of a dancer, I pranced into the assembly hall, right past the guards whose eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of their sockets. I stopped in the entranceway and curtsied with a flourish to the king and queen of Aleyne. The king stared at me, trying really hard not to show his astonishment.
"Good evening, Your Majesties," I said in my most melodious girly voice -- my trademark and the best part of my act. "You wished to see me?"
The king shook his head. The queen looked utterly scandalized and hid her face behind her fan.
"Seriously, Master Harron. Was this really necessary? It's... disconcerting, to say the least," the king said with a disapproving look.
I assumed an expression of insulted innocence. "I simply didn't wish to waste my time or yours."
The king heaved a sigh. "All right. The illusion is believable enough, I'll give you that. But could you foil an assassination attempt in this..." He gestured at the puffy under-layers of lace peeking out from beneath the sky-blue silk skirt.
"Crinoline," I finished helpfully. "I assure you, my combat skills are in no way diminished by --"
At the king's signal, the guard who stood just behind me pulled out a knife and lunged at me. I reached up and gripped the guard's wrist. The blade stopped just inches away from my elaborate coiffure. Stifling a yawn, I gave his arm a little twist. The guard gasped in pain and let go of the blade, which clattered to the floor. I let go of him instantly, and the man rubbed his wrist, muttering a few extremely unflattering words.
I smiled coquettishly at their majesties and patted my hair. "Any other questions?"
The queen's mouth was a little painted "O" of shock on her pale face. The king cleared his throat, trying to collect himself. "Yes. You do understand that this is a highly sensitive political matter."
"Of course."
"And therefore discretion is absolutely crucial."
I tried not to let my disappointment show. "Yes, my lord. Of course."
"Now, the story is, Princess Amalia is my darling Lisele's little sister. No one has seen her up to this point because she was raised in a convent." He paused and glared at me. "A convent, Master Harron. Integrate this knowledge into your act if you can."
I nodded, trying not to crack up. "That's all very well. I also know that the people of Levant are known for their pious chastity, but I still think Prince Keandre will notice that something is not quite right when the wedding night comes around."
"Harron, this is serious," the king fumed. "And it won't come to that. Once you get there, your job is to figure out who is sending the threats to assassinate my Lisele, and to... deal with them. Then I will revoke my decision and send Princess Lisele in your place."
"Yes, sir, but are you sure it won't cause political, ah, frictions?"
The king's expression made me want to swallow my tongue. "You let me worry about that, Master Harron. You just do what I assigned you to do, nothing more and nothing less, without making an idiot of yourself and this whole court by extension. Think you can handle that?"
I broke out in a cold sweat under the tightly laced corset of the gown, swallowed the lump in my throat, and nodded.
"That's all. You will be leaving first thing tomorrow."
And thus, my fate was sealed.

Friday, January 06, 2012

Shibari Auction House 1: Jack by Sean Michael

Shibari Auction House: Jack
by Sean Michael

Cover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-760-4
Genre(s): Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary), BDSM
Theme(s): Gay and Lesbian
Series: Shibari Auction House
Length: Novella
Page Count: 49

When Jack's gambling debts catch up to him and he's about to lose both his legs, if he's lucky, to his loan shark, he decides to sell his time for three years to the highest bidder, hoping someone is willing to pay him enough to clear his debts for good.
Is he jumping from the frying pan into the fire? Only time will tell.
Shibari Auction House: Jack
Sean Michael
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Sean 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.

"Are you sure you're interested, sir? Forgive me for saying so, but..." The big, tall, Lurch-y man stared at him through wire-rimmed glasses. "'re not exactly a common type here."
"There's money, right? Good money?" Jack watched Lurch nod. "Then I'm fucking interested." He had to come up with a quarter of a mil. Now, before someone had his head on a platter, kind of literally.
Ben Williams, the bartender at Glass Houses, had listened to him crying in his beer a couple of days ago and slipped him this business card. Shibari Auction House. Jack had told the guy he didn't have a damn thing left in the world. Nothing. He'd sold it all for that last desperate game. Triple or nothing. He got nothing.
"This is... Well, they aren't buying stuff, Jack. It's... service they're buying."
It had taken him a little bit to figure it out, and a little bit longer than that even to get up the balls to call. Knowing that Mick Peterson was out there with a baseball bat and a switchblade helped.
"You do understand that you will enter a contract, yes?"
Jack nodded. After he called, he'd spent time with Ben, who'd told him that all sorts of things were possible -- personal assistants, security, even housekeeping -- but mainly this was sex stuff. With other guys, if you wanted the money.
God knew, he wanted the money.
"I do. You tell me what'll get me the best price, I'll do it. I'm not scared." Or proud. Hell, maybe after three years of doing... whatever, he wouldn't want to gamble any more.
"Well, obviously the more... esoteric terms are more costly." The thin lips pursed. "Body modifications and total submission are at the top, and --"
"Fine. Give me the list." He had two days left before the enforcers came hunting him.
"Length of time will make a difference as well." Lurch still wasn't handing over the list. "And anyone could buy you. Someone young, someone old..."
"Is three years good?" He didn't care about the other. It wasn't like he was going to get off. He started checking stuff off. "When it says body mods, they won't cut my balls off or nothing, right?"
"No, that would be castration. Body mods includes piercings and things like pearls slipped beneath your skin." One of Lurch's eyebrows went up, way up, as he continued to mark items as acceptable. "Three years will get you a good sum, especially with the number of items you're indicating you'll do."
"Okay." He firmed his lips up and looked at the guy -- Yves, actually, not Lurch -- again. "Is it bad that I haven't ever taken it in the ass? I mean, I can go out tonight and do it, if it is."
Yves made a soft noise. "Are you even gay? Because trust me, we include that you are a virgin and your price goes up. Way up. But your... deflowering may not be all hearts and roses."
"I'm gay. I just... In my neighborhood it's a quick handjob or a blowjob in the alley. Not... something that ends in a bed with lube." The idea of having a cock up there made his sphincter clench.
"You can leave anal sex off the list. It will decrease the price, though." Yves touched his arm, his look gentle. "Are you sure?" If the man asked that one more time...
"They're going to break my legs, man. They're going to kill me. I have to pay them."
"Well, no one who buys you will break your legs or kill you." Yves shook his head. "If you really need a lot of money, I would suggest giving your virginity up with the rest. That really will be what increases your price."
"Okay. Okay, yeah. It's not like it's good to me." He tried to grin. "I'm not a bastard. I just... I gamble." He had the slightest addictive bone.
"Not very well, it appears." Yves' tone was extremely dry.
Jack found himself laughing, hard. Hard enough that it hurt a little. "Yeah, I guess."
"If you'll finish filling that out, I'll send Bart in for the signing, and then Katie will help you with your grooming. If you want, and you're quick, we can get you on the bill for tonight's auction."

Sunday, January 01, 2012

Razor's Edge: Puck You Two by Elizabeth Jewell

Razor's Edge: Puck You, Two
by Elizabeth Jewell

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-60521-916-5
Genre(s): Razor's Edge Press, Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary)
Theme(s): Gay and Lesbian
Series: Puck You
Length: Hot Flash
Page Count: 19

When Philippe Bessette runs into Jaroslav Láska in a bar, he knows he should walk away. But Láska knows what Bessette wants, and this time he's going to make Bessette beg for it.