DRB1stchp Changeling Press 48Hr Event (24 & 25 December)

A little late but Changeling Press took over the DRB1stChp blog all of Dec 24th and 25th. Check out these hot first chapter excerpts:

~ The Night Before Christmas by Shelby Morgen
(Erotic MF Paranormal IR Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/2012/12/the-night-before-christmas-by-shelby-morgen/

~ Christmas Pageant by Sahara Kelly
(Erotic MF Contemporary Comedy Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/2012/12/christmas-pageant-by-sahara-kelly/

~ Vampire Christmas by Angela Knight
(Erotic MF Paranormal Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/2012/12/vampire-christmas-by-angela-knight/

~ Blood and Soul Collection by Kate Hill
(Erotic MF Vampire BDSM Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/category/series-blood-and-soul/

~ Women of Steel Collection by Camille Anthony
(Erotic MF Futuristic/SciFi IR Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/category/series-women-of-steel/

~ Jingle All the Way Collection by Judy Mays
(Erotic MF Christmas Vampire Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/category/series-jingle-all-the-way/

~ Rookery Cove: Faun of Time by Jade Buchanan
(Erotic MM Urban Fantasy Shifter Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/2012/12/rookery-cove-faun-of-a-time-by-jade-buchanan/

~ Rookery Cove: Kidnapping Karisma by Tuesday Morrigan
(Erotic MFMMM Shifter Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/2012/12/rookery-cove-kidnapping-karisma-by-tuesday-morrigan/

~ Soul Familiar Collection by Kate Steele
(Erotic MM Paranormal Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/category/series-soul-familiar/

~ Felidae Collection by Jade Buchanan
(Erotic SciFi Paranormal Romance, MM & MMF)
http://drb1stchp.com/category/series-felidae/

~ Elven Enchantment Collection by Willa Okati
(Erotic MMF Urban Fantasy Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/category/series-elven/

~ Rookery Cove: Pixie's Prisoner by Lacey Savage
(Erotic MF Urban Fantasy Shifter Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/2012/12/rookery-cove-pixies-prisoner-by-lacey-savage/

~ Rookery Cove: Ocean's Call by Dawn Montgomery
(Erotic MMF Shifter Romance)
http://drb1stchp.com/2012/12/rookery-cove-oceans-call-by-dawn-montgomery/

--
Zenobia Renquist
Discover Different and Unique Romance
http://about.me/zenobiarenquist
Caveat Emptor Series :: Three couples caught in a war have only one solution -- peace. Si vis pacem, para bellum. :: http://zenobiarenquist.com/bookshelf/caveat-emptor-series

The Dark Side by Angela Knight and Elayne S Venton

Dark Side

by Angela Knight, Elayne S. Venton, Willa Okati, Elisa Adams and Sierra DafoeCover art: Angela Knight

ISBN: 978-1-60521-687-4

Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Dark Fantasy

Length: Collection

Page Count: 312

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1695

Blurb:
Within each of us lies a dark secret -- forbidden passions so strong they frighten us with their intensity. Between these pages, our heroes struggle with their own irresistible longings. Dark lust blurs the line between love and sex -- their only hope, to embrace the unthinkable hungers and follow their mates into an abyss of dark and dangerous lust. And love.
Welcome to The Dark Side
The Dark One by Angela Knight
Matia of Ruza is one of the legendary Battlemaids -- a woman warrior who has taken an oath of celibacy in service of the Maid of Light. Kaska intends to make Matia the centerpiece in a sizzling erotic ritual in honor of his god.
Chain of Thorns by Willa Okati
Riven finds himself trapped and enslaved when Earth is destroyed in a fiery cataclysm. Where is the line between fantasy and reality -- slavery and love?
Waiting for You by Elayne S. Venton
Tybirius West is a mercenary -- and the one man Major Reeva Medusa can't get out of her mind. Trouble is, if Ty were on her side, he wouldn't have taken her captive, blindfolded, stripped and bound her. This time she may not be able to free the sex slaves -- she may become one!
BloodWolf by Sierra Dafoe
Baudouin Delacor wanders the earth, solitary, friendless, and hopeless. Centuries ago an ancient evil turned him into a beast for which there had never before been a name -- not the loup garou, the WereWolf, but the loup de sang. The BloodWolf. Delacor has only one hope left: that by destroying the succubus, he can free himself of its curse.
Night Creatures by Elisa Adams
Nightmares plague Juliana McGovern -- twisted, erotic dreams where monsters urge her to join them in their terrifying rituals. It's only a matter of time before they pull her into their world. And Max, the one man she thinks she can trust, has a few deadly secrets of his own.
Excerpt:
The Dark Side (Collection)
Excerpt from The Dark One
Angela Knight
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Angela Knight

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.

Kaska of Artane slowed his stallion to an easy amble. Prince Britar's fortress lay a full day away, and he'd ridden poor Warbringer hard this past month. He knew the Prince awaited the intelligence he'd gathered as a spy in neighboring Trovan but laming his horse would serve no purpose.
Particularly with war on the horizon.
Besides, the last time Kaska had come this way, he'd had to battle the local brigands. Two fell to his blade before the rest fled, but that left five. And they might be in the mood for revenge. I don't care to ride headlong into an ambush.
"Whoreson bastards!" A woman's roar of fury brought Kaska's head up. He drew Warbringer to a prancing halt.
Swords clashed, interspaced with male taunts and laughter. The laughter had a distinctly ugly note. The woman swore again, an edge of grim desperation in her voice.
The thieves had found a new victim.
Kaska set his heels to Warbringer's flanks and thundered up the road toward the sound. Rounding the bend, he saw five men fighting a lone female traveler they'd managed to unhorse. He recognized the dented, rusted armor and unshaven faces; it was indeed the same band of thieves.
But their victim was no common woman. Her armor and sword marked her as a follower of the Maid of Light -- a female warrior. She was tall for a woman, with a lithe, muscular build and pretty breasts barely contained by her intricately embossed breastplate. Long black hair swirled around her face as she spun and hacked at her tormentors with a slim sword designed for a woman's hand.
One of the brigands already lay dead at her feet, but four others remained, odds too great even for one of the legendary Battlemaids.
A grin of sheer, savage joy spread across Kaska's face. With a howl, he drew the blade sheathed across his back and kicked Warbringer into a thundering charge.
The nearest of the brigands whirled too late. Kaska took his head with a single stroke.
Another of the men jumped at him, hacking for his thigh with an axe, but Kaska spun Warbringer aside and thrust his blade into the thief's chest. The man tumbled off the lethal point, gurgling out his life.
Meanwhile, the third brigand fell to the Battlemaid's sword. His head tumbled from his shoulders.
The fourth man looked from Kaska to the thieves' would-be victim, calculated the odds, and took to his heels.
Kaska snatched a dagger from his thigh sheath and hurled it at the coward with an expert flip of his wrist. The man went down, the blade buried to the hilt between his shoulder blades.
Scarcely breathing hard, Kaska turned to the maid. "Are you well?"
"Well enough." She studied him, her dark eyes level. There was a sharp and elegant beauty to her face, with its broad, high cheekbones and square little chin. Her lush mouth could inspire a monk to carnal fantasies.
"My thanks, warrior," she said at last in a low, husky voice, pushing the long black hair out of her face. "There were too many of them for me to best alone." She considered him, appraising the width of his chest and the strength of his sword arm. Female appreciation lit her gaze, mixed with a warrior's caution.
She had reason for that caution, for he meant to challenge her himself. He worshiped the Dark One, and his god relished nothing as much as the moans of a defeated Battlemaid.
Imagining the tight grip of her virgin ass, Kaska felt his cock swell behind his loincloth.
Give her time to rest, and then...
Of course, the maid might well kill him instead, but looking at her long legs and full, sweet breasts, Kaska thought it a chance well worth taking.
But as he opened his mouth to warn her of his intent, all color left the Battlemaid's face. Her eyes rolled up. Kaska threw himself from Warbringer's back as she collapsed in a heap.
Two long strides carried him to the maid's side. Dropping to one knee on the dusty road, Kaska began an anxious examination. He found no wounds on the front of her body, so he rolled her onto her back.
The maid groaned and lifted her head. "Wha --?"
"Seems one of your cur attackers landed a blow after all," he told her grimly. "There's a stab wound in your back just under your backplate, over your left hip."
"Aye," she said, letting her head fall. "One of them had a dagger."
"'Tis not deep, but it bleeds still," Kaska said. "I can treat it, if you permit."
"Aye," the maid said, breathing now in shallow pants. "My thanks."
Kaska nodded and rose to retrieve his pack of battlefield medicines from Warbringer. Well, he thought as he walked to his horse, I won't be challenging her any time soon. Not with that wound.
Later, perhaps. When he'd examined her, he'd noticed she had a truly delicious ass.
He wanted it.
http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1695

Chain of Kisses by Angela Knight

Chain of Kisses

by Angela Knight Cover art: Angela Knight

ISBN: 978-1-60521-657-7

Genre(s): Futuristic, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Sci-Fi, BDSM

Theme(s): Dark Desire

Length: Novella

Page Count: 60

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1637

Blurb:
For years, Prince Admiral Arles of Tor has been obsessed with Gisel Vanda, who jilted him at the altar. When he discovers the lovely runaway is now a mercenary space captain, he captures her, determined to get Gisel out of his system. He soon discovers she's even more intelligent and beautiful than he remembered, but she is also a political liability he can't afford.
Gisel bitterly regrets jilting Arles, and her love for him still burns bright. Even as he tests her with acts of erotic dominance, she sees the opportunity to redeem herself. But with a murderous enemy closing in, can love survive the demands of royalty?
Excerpt:
Chain of Kisses
Angela Knight
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Angela Knight

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 gave the manacle on my right arm a restless tug, and it responded with a musical rattle. I couldn't see a damn thing. A blindfold bit into my temples, wrapping me in sensual, intimate darkness.
The lack of vision only made me more aware of him -- his scent, that faint tang of spice and masculinity, the heat of his big body standing just to the left of the bunk he'd chained me to, the slight rasp of his breathing. I have always been acutely aware of Prince Arles of Tor, once my intended, now my captor.
The bed dipped under his weight as he sat down beside me. I quivered like an animal, imagining his nudity. The way he'd looked that night ten years before was branded on my memory. Arles's broad back had flexed as he'd used the light whip, the perfect, tanned hemispheres of his bare ass working in concert with the leap of thigh muscles and the snap of brawny arms.
The girl had squirmed and sighed every time he hit her. Even as young as I'd been a decade ago, I'd known she loved it. The smell of sex hung in the air like some kind of musky, exotic spice.
"That's what he'll do to you," my sister had whispered as we watched from the secret chamber. "And he'll make you want it. Mother will be appalled."
Our mother might have known Arles dominated other women, but it would never occur to her that one of her daughters would feel the need to submit.
We, after all, had been born to rule.
"Never," I'd snarled, with all the melodrama of the seventeen-year-old I'd been. I couldn't drag my eyes away from the prince's feral strength. "I will not shame my blood." I could feel myself going wet.
"You will. He'll weave his alien magic, and you'll bow that proud little head."
I feared Isa was right. Even if I hadn't been in love with him, Arles was too much for me. I'd end up sacrificing everything I was to his dominance and raw male power. My mother would turn from me in disgust and revulsion. I couldn't bear the thought of her disappointment.
But I also knew my mother would force me to abide by the demands of the treaty. Saying no at the altar was not an option.
Two hours later, I slipped from the palace, abandoning my world, my family, and my life. The Capital Spaceport was only a few blocks away, and I meant to seek passage off world. I was too well known to take a flitter taxi -- any capital cabbie knew my curfew and would refuse to pick me up, for fear of the Royal Guard's wrath -- so I decided to walk.
A block from my goal, I was attacked by a pack of throat slitters who dragged me into an alley. I survived only because a passing mercenary heard my screams and charged to the rescue. He killed every one of the slitters and flew me to his ship for treatment of some ugly injuries.
Captain Galon Teve had a merc's hard eyes, but his heart was soft. When I told him my story, the big, gray-haired cyborg took pity on me and hired me on as crew.
My new mentor taught me how to fight, how to kill, and how to pleasure. Yet no matter how I tried, I could never love Galon as he came to love me. My heart was already captive to a boy with a Paladin's eyes -- and a man with a devil's smile.
Under Galon's tutelage, I discovered a talent for tactics and strategy. Eventually I became his second-in-command. When Galon fell in battle against the Fafnar, I succeeded him as captain of the Valkyrie Quest.
Through it all, Arles haunted my shamed fantasies. I'd lie in my lonely bunk with one hand stroking between my thighs, remembering the shadows rolling across his big body in time to the snap of his whip.
Now it was no dream.
Arles touched my nipple, brushing calloused fingertips over the hard nubbin. Just once, but I still caught my breath at the liquid heat that rushed through me.
"Sensitive little breasts." His voice rumbled in the intimate darkness of my blindfold. "I wonder how you'll taste. Shall I find out?"
Saliva flooded my mouth, and I swallowed. I didn't answer.
"I asked you a question." His fingers closed over my flesh in a pinch carefully calibrated to give more pleasure than pain. Yet the potential sting floated just beneath the delight like a dark promise. "I want an answer. Shall I taste you?"
"You'll do as you please. You always do."
"True." He twisted, released, flicked the nipple back and forth, sending warm delight lapping along my nerves. "But a show of submission on your part might appease me."
"I rather doubt it."
"But can you afford to take the chance?" Another hot pinch, this one with a hint of sting. Perversely, I felt heat flood my belly. "My reputation is not exaggerated."
"I never thought it was."
"Perhaps a silk flogger." He brushed his hand over the sensitive flesh of my left breast, gave me a caressing squeeze. "Right across these pretty tits. I would enjoy watching you dance."
"I've heard that of you." I tried for a tone of mild contempt, but my voice sounded too high, too breathless. I silently cursed myself. I could usually act more skillfully for my enemies.
Unfortunately, I'd never seen Arles as a foe. Even now, bound and naked, I remembered the thoughtful boy who'd first taught me strategy over endless games of Conquest. The prince was even more skilled now, a conqueror of two worlds who'd driven the Fafnar from Torrean space with his ruthless, brilliant tactics. When Arles tracked me down three days ago, I'd known I was in trouble.
I wasn't really surprised, though. I'd known the prince would demand a reckoning one day; my actions had done too much damage to his reputation. Anybody who watched the news vids knew that.
I'd also known winning a fight with him wasn't likely. Arles commanded a huge, Starbreaker-class warship that was the pride of the Torrean fleet. Bristling with blaze cannons and thermal torpedoes, the Mjˆlnir outgunned the Valkyrie three to one. Naming that ship after Thor's Hammer had been entirely too apt.
But though the Valkyrie was small, she was fast and nimble. She proved it as the Mjˆlnir chased us for three days through the thickest asteroid field I could find. Arles caught us just as we prepared to escape into superlight space. A salvo of thermal torpedoes blew Valkyrie's quantum engines, leaving us dead in space.
The prince demanded my surrender as the price of my crew's lives. I didn't want my people to pay for my sins, so I'd agreed. Leaving the Valkyrie in the hands of my executive officer, I flew to meet Arles in my personal launch.
When I stepped off the small craft's ramp onto the Mjˆlnir's squadron deck, I found him holding a collar and a set of magnetic slave bands equipped with chains. The golden restraints were engraved with erotic images and studded with emeralds for maximum barbaric glitter. He'd chained and collared me as his grinning crew watched. I could only grind my teeth in rage, trying to ignore the heat in my cunt.
Now Arles traced one finger down my torso, dipped suggestively into my navel, and paused at the neatly trimmed edge of my bush. I managed not to squirm. "I have a suspicion you're wet," he said, his voice dark and low. "Are you? Do I arouse you, Gisel?" He laughed. "Odin knows you've made me hard and hot."
His fingers dipped between my spread thighs. Both of us groaned at the slick, tight flesh he found.
"Ripe," Arles murmured. "Ripe as a peachango. Ready for my cock. Is that what you want, Gisel?"
http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1637

All Wrapped Up Volume 1: Ann Jacobs, Dakota Cassidy, Kate Hill, Angela Knight

All Wrapped Up Vol. 1

by Ann Jacobs and Dakota Cassidy and Kate Hill and Angela Knight Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-552-5

Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Sci-Fi, BDSM

Theme(s): Vampires, Shapeshifters

Series: All Wrapped Up Multi-Author

Length: Collection

Page Count: 267

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1609

Blurb:

Four exceptional authors, four enticing stories. Wrap yourself up in the heat of the best in erotic romance from Changeling Press.
Angela Knight -- Blood Service
Adiva Mayhew is a spy -- and a damn good one. But now she's running for her life from a deadly bounty hunter -- who's also a Vampire...
Ann Jacobs -- Branded
Cole Callender -- an entrepreneur with an eye to the future. Branded a sexual deviant under Earth laws, Cole adopts Obsidion as his future.
Dakota Cassidy -- Slave School Dropout
Nyla is a cat. So is Lucas. Nyla is an Egyptian Mau, descendant of the Goddess Bast. Lucas... isn't. In fact, he's a Tom cat. Unlikely lifemates at best.
Kate Hill -- Tainted Kisses
Niabi's only choice is to strike a bargain with Etlu -- the humans' lives in exchange for her complete surrender to his desires.
Excerpt:
All Wrapped Up, Vol. 1
Excerpt from All Wrapped Up: Blood Service
Angela Knight
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Angela Knight

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 exactly are you proposing?"
"It strikes me that it would be a waste to hand a high-level bloodthrall over to an ignorant thug like Tang." The vampire lowered his head next to her ear. His breath felt seductively warm. "On the other hand, I could always use two million credits. Convince me to keep you."
Adiva swallowed. Before coming to this world with Jorge, she'd undergone the surgical procedure that had made her a "bloodthrall" -- a perfect donor for her new vampire partner. Vamps coveted relationships with willing bloodthralls, preferring them over drinking synthetic blood. Still..."You'd violate a contract with General Tang?"
"I have no contract with Tang. He put a bounty out on you, but I don't have to collect it. If, that is, you prove sufficiently convincing."
"What guarantee do I have that you won't turn me in anyway?"
"None, of course." His tone was blandly matter-of-fact. "May I remind you, I don't have to give you any guarantees, Adiva. You're the one who has to convince me."
She licked her dry lips. "How do you propose I do that?"
A long silence ticked by as he let her sweat. "According to your dossier, you're a seventeenth level submissive. Quite high, and relatively rare. I'm a twenty-first level dominant. That means I've got a nasty streak I rarely have the opportunity to indulge -- sexually, at least."
"Meaning that those you pursue are fair game for whatever sadism you care to practice." And he cared to practice quite a bit, according to his file.
She felt him shrug against her. "Given that my typical prey runs toward pedophiles and serial murderers, I don't lose much sleep over what I do to them."
"Yeah, well, I'm neither of those things. So why the fuck are you tormenting me?"
"Darling, you managed to piss the wrong people off during a war. What did you expect?"
"Tang is psychotic! The Adorevians have a right to overthrow..." She broke off, reining in her outrage and reaching for calm. "Never mind. Spell it out for me, Vigilante, or whatever the hell you call yourself. How do I 'convince' you?"
His smile was slow and dark. "Why, by submitting, darling."
"To what?"
"Isn't it obvious? Whatever I want."
She swallowed, all too aware of him -- his hard, hot body crowding her much smaller one. He was just so damn big. So damn male. With every breath, her senses filled with his scent, masculine and dark and more than a little wild. "So what do you want?"
The Vigilante laughed softly. "That's the question, isn't it?" He leaned into her. She realized that the thick ridge pressing against her ass was an impressive erection.
"Choose, Adiva. Convince me. Or don't."
She licked her dry lips, intrigued despite herself by that promising cock. Jorge had not been a small man by any means, but Vigilante felt massive. How would he feel thrusting hard into her cunt, stretching her, tormenting her? She'd dreamed of a lover like that. And she didn't want to die without experiencing one.
"I think you'll find me very convincing..." Adiva had to swallow before she could give him the title she knew he'd demand. "... Master."
He laughed. The sound was rich with satisfaction and triumph. "Then why don't we get started?" He released her throat and found the seal on her jacket. "Let's see what you have to offer."
"Here?" she protested instinctively. "But anybody could come along!"
"And you assume that matters to me?" His tone was coolly pleasant, but she heard the steel beneath.
Adiva swallowed. "No, I imagine you'd strip me naked in front of half the station if it suited you."
He laughed softly. "You assume right…"
http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1609

Protect and Serve: Fox and Feral by Angela Knight

Protect and Serve: Fox and Feral

by Angela Knight

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-6052-609-6

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

Theme(s): Men and Women in Uniform

Series: Protect and Serve

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1568

Blurb:
FBI agents Candice Fox and James Feral have served together for five years, using their genetically enhanced abilities to save hostages and fight a war. But as they've tempted death, an intense desire has grown between them -- which they've carefully ignored. They've had to. She's his superior officer, and love between them is strictly against regulation. But when a brush with death triggers a frenzied hour of passion, will their surrender to need destroy their lives?


Excerpt:
Protect and Serve: Fox and Feral
Angela Knight
All rights reserved.
Copyright (c)2011 Angela Knight
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.
All hell was breaking loose down in the New York street ten stories below. Gunfire sounded in a continuous pop pop pop, sounding thin and harmless at this distance. The way the NYPD cops huddled behind their cars revealed just how far from harmless it really was. They were outgunned all to hell by eight men with M-30s who strolled up and down the sidewalk in front of the bank, firing as if they were at a shooting range, not bothering to take cover at all. Didn't need to. The robbers were wearing military grade body armor, designed as protection against weapons a hell of a lot more powerful then the cops' handguns.

Luckily, our armor was better. And we hit harder.

Thing was, they had a hostage. Bank teller, or maybe a customer. The leader held her with an arm around her neck while he shot around her one handed. The woman screamed once, thin and high, like a rabbit being killed.

I could almost taste her terror. We had to get her out before they blew her brains all over the street.

Saving people is the whole point of the FBI Special Services unit. We get called in when hostages are in imminent danger and the cops are afraid rescue is impossible.

"Well, this is a Charlie Foxtrot," Feral drawled, using the Marine expression for another Marine expression: cluster fuck. "Saving that hostage is going to be a bitch, Cap."

"I'll get her," I told him. "You distract the asshole brigade." And try not to lose your frickin' mind. I didn't say that, though. Thanks to the Desert Warrior program, it wasn't something he could really control. Besides, three tours of duty in the 'Stans, two as Black Ops, had left Feral with some serious issues.

I keyed my throat mic to broadcast on the cops' frequency. "Fox and Feral, coming in. Hold your fire."

Feral leaped, a perfect, flat dive out into space. I tried not to watch the flex of his ass under the dragon scales, but it's one hell of a view, and I'm a girl who loves a fine male behind. But then, everything Feral's got is fine.

As he shot his line at one streetlamp, I aimed my fist at another and sent a mental message through my armor. The thin, high tensile line shot out of my wrist unit, and its weighted end swung around the light support. I gave it a tug. It held, so I ordered the line to retract and leaped off the roof of the ten-story building. Any normal human would have been street pizza, but neither of us had been completely human in years.

The top secret military program we'd volunteered for in 2032 had altered our DNA, increasing our endurance as well as the strength of our muscles and the density of our bones. We were now six times as strong as a human the same size and gender. And considering how damned big Feral was, that's saying something.

Being a hell of a lot smaller, I'm nowhere near as strong as he is. But I'm fast, and agile, and I know how to use what I've got.

The line jerked me down toward the streetlamp. For a moment, it was like flying -- a breathtaking swoop through empty air, the ground careening toward my face. If I mistimed the release, they'd have to hose me off the side of the bank.

Christ, I loved this.

My timing was dead on. The line stopped retracting at my command, and I swung upward, slowing my plunge just enough. I released the line at the top of the arc and went free fall, tucking into a ball to hit the ground rolling. The impact jarred my teeth even through ten layers of Titan Laminate helmet and an inch of anti-concussive gel.

I bounced to my feet. There were two thugs between me and the guy with the hostage, so I threw myself into a roundhouse and kicked one robber right behind the ear. His helmet cracked under my Titan-cored boot, and he fell like a bag of wet cement. I glimpsed a figure whirling toward me and drove my elbow into his throat, not quite hard enough to crush his larynx. He choked and collapsed, more interested in breathing than giving me shit.

I raced to the hostage's captor, snapped one booted foot up and kicked the bastard right in the back of his thigh. Crack! He went down with a howl, dropping his gun to grab for his broken leg. Greenstick fracture, given the way I'd hit him. Served the fucker right.

I hauled the hostage up from where she'd fallen in a heap with her captor, pushed her ahead of me, then bent to scoop up the jackass's gun. "Go, go, go!"

She looked back, saw my facemask, and screamed like a horror trid blonde.

"I'm a federal agent!" I yelled at her. "Get your ass moving!"

She ran, skittering on her high heels as best she could. I galloped behind her, one hand on her shoulder as I sought to both steady her and shield her with my body.

Hey, I was wearing full body armor. She was wearing JC Penney.

BlamBlamBlam!

Something that felt like a Volvo rammed me in the ribs. The impact spun me around and dropped me. My head hit the pavement with a meaty melon thunk, and stars exploded behind my eyes. When the pretty lights faded, I saw the girl get snatched behind a patrol car by a long, blue-clad arm.

I couldn't breathe. My chest felt paralyzed.

"Fox!" Feral shouted in my ear on our com frequency, but when I tried to answer, my frozen diaphragm still refused to budge.

He made a weird growling sound, building to a howl that might have been my name. Oh fuck, he's gone berserker.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1568

Congratulations to Changeling CAPA Nominees!

 

Congratulations to the following authors on their CAPA nominations. I think I have everyone, but if I missed anyone I apologize!

Favorite erotic author category:

Leila Brown
Violet Summers
Melinda Barron
Angela Knight
K.Z. Snow
B.J. McCall
Moira Rogers

Paranormal erotic romance category:

Dark Kisses
by Anne Kane

The Dhampir
by Angela Knight

How Not to Date an Alien
by Stephanie Burke

Again, congratulations!!
Kate

http://www.kate-hill.com

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A Changeling for All Seasons

A Changeling for All Seasons


by Kate Douglas and Kate Hill and Sahara Kelly and Judy Mays and Shelby Morgen and Angela Knight and Willa Okati and Marteeka Karland and Lacey Savage

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 987-1-60521-009-4

Genre(s): Paranormal, Collections

Theme(s): Seasonal Themes

Length: Collection

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1497

Blurb:
Ten unforgettable erotic tales to warm your nights and keep you in holiday spirits all year long!




Angela Knight - A Vampire Christmas

Sahara Kelly - A Christmas Pageant

Judy Mays - Jingle Balls

Marteeka Karland - Sealed With A Kiss

Kate Douglas - My Valentine

Shelby Morgen - Changeling

Willa Okati - Elven Enchantment

Kate Hill - Jolene's Pooka

Lacey Savage - Chemistry to Burn

Shelby Morgen - Troll Under The Bridge



Filled with the unexpected, A Changeling For All Seasons offers something to savor for every palate. From humorous to magical, from Christmas to St. Patrick's Day to the 4th of July, these stories are alight with unbridled lust, sensuous passion, and hot, hot sex, guaranteed to entangle your senses and leave you breathless.



This collection is also available in print.

Excerpt
A Changeling for All Seasons


Excerpt from A Vampire Christmas

Angela Knight

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 by Angela Knight

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.



Amelia Patton clattered up the beige stairs of the apartment complex, the plastic dress bag hooked over one shoulder. It had been a long shift at the hospital, but the prospect of showing David her purchase had put a bounce back in her step. The gown was every little girl's fairytale dream -- seed pearls, white lace, and yards and yards of satin skirt, with a train that would reach halfway down the church aisle. The lace veil alone had her inner eight-year-old sighing in bliss.



Clutching her precious dress with one hand, she juggled the keys until she found the right one and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open, revealing the living room that had made real strides in livability over the past two months. When she'd first moved in, David's furniture had consisted of a couch he'd bought at Goodwill and a really tacky table made from a cable spool. The big screen television and entertainment center were worth more than all the rest of the furniture in the apartment. God love the man, he was too butch for taste.



Amelia had coaxed him into replacing the castoffs with a lovely cream living room set, colorful pastel sketches, and a pretty floor lamp with a stained glass shade. She made good money as a nurse, she argued. They could afford it.



"Honey, I'm home!" God, she loved saying that.



No answer. She frowned. It was well after midnight; David would be home from his shift with the Atlanta Police. Unless something had happened... A frisson of fear slid up her spine, but she forced it away. "Hey, Dave! I went by the mall on my dinner break and picked up that gown I told you about. Wait 'til you see it..."



The bedsprings creaked from the next room. "Amelia." His voice sounded hoarse.



"Hey, babe, you okay? Did you get into another fight?" That was how they'd met. David had come by the ER after a drug dealer resisted arrest with a little too much enthusiasm. She'd been smearing antibiotic cream across those sculpted ribs when he'd asked her to dinner. Amelia had looked into those crystalline blue eyes, and fallen helplessly in lust. She hadn't been able to say no to him since.



A year later, she still lusted for him -- but she'd also come to know and love his wicked sense of humor, strong character, and clever mind.



"Come here." David normally reserved that cold, demanding tone for the prisoners he brought to the hospital after they'd tried to bust his head. He'd never before used it with her.



"David, what's wrong?" Worried, Amelia hurried into the bedroom, the dress slung over her shoulder.



They'd bought the massive iron bedstead in an antique store when she'd moved in with him. David had teased her that its tall, ornate posts were perfect for bondage.



She'd still never expected to find him naked and shackled spread-eagle to it like a beefcake buffet.



David was a big man, as dark as she was blonde, broad shouldered and narrow hipped. He spent a couple of hours in the department gym four days a week, building the layers of rippling muscle he considered an occupational necessity for a beat cop. Adding to the impression of overwhelming masculinity, a dark ruff of hair spread across his chest and arrowed down his cobblestone belly toward his thick cock.



His face was just as broad and angular as his tough body, with prominent cheekbones and a regal nose, straight and narrow. His mouth added the only note of sensual vulnerability about him with its full lower lip and lush upper curve. A hint of a dimple graced one corner, giving his smile a boyish charm.



"Yum," Amelia purred, grinning at the sight of him spread out in chains. "For me?"



"What do you think?" His cock stirred hungrily, and he stared at her like a cat watching a caged canary.



She rocked back on the rubber heels of her shoes and grinned. "This is an interesting switch. Usually I'm the one tied to that bed."



"Come here," he said again. His blue eyes blazed with lust.



Smiling wickedly, Amelia paused just long enough to hang the dress in the closet. Then, reaching for the hem of her scrubs, she started toward him. But before she could reach his side, she realized something was wrong. He was far too pale, in the way she'd come to associate with massive blood loss, and his face was drawn. She let the hem drop. "David, are you okay?"



"I said come here!" he roared, peeling his lips back from his teeth in a savage snarl.



He had fangs.



Sharp, white, damn near two inches long, they made his handsome, sensual mouth look alien and threatening.



They couldn't possibly be real.



She gave him an uncertain smile. This must be some kind of new sex game, and yet... "What's with the Count Dracula dental work? Halloween isn't for three months."



"Get over here!" He lunged at her so hard the bed danced on the floor, but he couldn't break the chains. The iron posts began to bend.



Amelia jumped back, sick horror creeping over her with the knowledge this was no joke. Strong as he was, there was no way he should be able to bend the solid iron headboard. "Jesus, David! What the hell is going on?"



"What are you doing here?" a female voice demanded. Amelia whirled as a woman she'd never seen before stepped into the room. The stranger barely came up to her shoulder, a petite brunette with a wealth of sable hair and a small, heart-shaped face. She wore jeans and a black knit top that made the most of impressive breasts. Her frown was ferocious as she glared up at Amelia. "You don't belong here, it's too dangerous. You must leave until this is finished." She stalked past on booted feet, pulling a familiar plastic bag out of her purse. Before Amelia could ask where the hell she'd gotten a unit of whole blood, she snatched a pair of scissors off the table, clipped the top off the bag, and thrust it into David's mouth. He began to drink thirstily.



Blood. He was drinking blood.



Like some kind of vampire.



A sense of unreality crashed in. Amelia took a step back. David. Naked. With a strange woman. Chained to a bed. Drinking blood. "Who the hell are you? Will somebody please tell me what's going on?"



"Get out!" the brunette snapped. She had an exotic accent, clipped and Slavic. "If he breaks loose from these chains, he'll kill you. Go! When he is sane again, I will tell you." She had fangs too.



Amelia's jaw dropped. "You're a vampire!"



The brunette shot her a glare. "Congratulations. Your grasp of the obvious is stunning. Now use those dubious wits and get out while you still can."



Still drinking, David rolled his blue eyes in her direction. The depths of his eyes glinted red. There was nothing at all sane in his gaze.



Amelia whirled and ran.


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1497

Dhampir by Angela Knight

The Dhampir

by Angela Knight cover art by Angela Knight

ISBN: 978-1-60521-403-0

Genre(s): Paranormal, Dark Fantasy

Theme(s): Vampires

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1327

Blurb:
Genevieve Drake is a Dhampir -- half vampire, half mortal, born and bred to be the perfect complement to her vampire mate, like those of her family for sixteen generations. Instead, she chose to become a cop. Three months ago she survived a vicious attack by a psychotic ex that left her with psychic scars and a desperate need for a new line of work. Time to rethink her future.

Hunter is tall, dark and handsome -- and very, very powerful. He's also been waiting for Genevieve. She was just sixteen when he had a vision that they'd one day become lovers. He's been biding his time ever since.

But Genevieve's experiences have left her unable to trust any man, even Hunter. If he wants them to have a future, the vampire will have to find a way to banish her ghosts...
Excerpt:
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

The vampire's bodyguard was sloppy when he searched Genevieve Drake. He missed at least three places where she could have stashed weapons. Would have stashed weapons, if she hadn't been going to an interview for a job she desperately needed. To add insult to injury, he smirked up at her when he crouched at her feet to pat her down, hands lingering on her thighs and calves.

Genevieve gave serious thought to kneeing him in the jaw.

Finally, after a last knowing leer, the guard ushered her into Hunter's sprawling office, then closed the heavy double doors and left them alone.

"Ms. Drake." Tall, radiating a power that made her Dhampir senses vibrate like harp strings, the vampire stepped around his big rosewood desk to shake Genevieve's hand, his grip careful and warm. His touch sent a flush of magic radiating up her arm. Her mouth went dry, and she felt her nipples peak. "It's a pleasure."

Her body's intense response surprised her. She'd felt dead from the neck down for months. "Please call me Genevieve, Mr. Hunter." Not Genny. Never Genny. Smiling up at him, she used all her years undercover to keep her expression no more than pleasantly professional.

"It's just Hunter," the vampire said in a black velvet purr of a voice. He gave her a slow, white smile, his eyes the sharp and startling blue of an arctic wolf. His features were starkly masculine, with a long swoop of a nose and a broad, square chin. His hair was thick and black, just long enough to touch his collar.

He gestured her away from his desk toward two armchairs that sat facing each other. Just beyond the chairs, a plate glass window ran the length of the room. Sixty stories below, the glittering glory of Atlanta spread across the night.

As Hunter ushered her to the chairs, Genevieve studied him. If anything, the vampire was more impressive than she remembered. Easily six-foot-two, he had a powerful build that made him look like a warrior even camouflaged in black Armani. His tie was a splash of crimson against his white shirt, while cufflinks of onyx and gold adorned his French cuffs.

"It's good to see you again," Hunter said as they sat. The chairs were positioned so close, their knees almost touched. It was not exactly the arrangement she'd have expected for a job interview -- but then, this was not a typical job interview. "You were what -- fifteen? -- when last I saw you."

"Sixteen," Genevieve corrected. And madly infatuated with you. But that was something she had no intention of sharing. And anyway, it had been fourteen years ago.

Before Gary. Before she'd been left bleeding in a dirty alley with the last of her illusions in shreds.

Hunter probably knew about her painfully intense crush. Probably knew about Gary, too, for that matter. As her father always said, you can't hide anything from a vampire, so don't even try. "It was good of you to grant me this interview."

"Not at all. I need an assistant, and you have excellent qualifications." He watched her settle back into the chair's soft wine red leather. His gaze sharpened. "Something concerns you."

Genevieve hesitated, caught between her desire not to offend and her sense of duty. She needed the job, but her family had been Dhampir for sixteen generations.

Duty won. "Your bodyguard was more interested in feeling me up than in making sure I wasn't armed. I could have knocked him cold at least twice. In my opinion, he constitutes a security risk."

Hunter lifted a cool black brow. "He's a former Navy SEAL."

"And a current idiot."

"You are blunt, bordering on rude." Hunter smiled, satisfaction in his eyes. "And every bit as fearless as I would have expected of Tommy Drake's daughter."

She relaxed back into her chair. "Well, that's a relief."

"That I took the criticism well?" His arctic eyes heated to burning blue as he watched her cross her legs. Her knee inadvertently brushed his, and the contact sent magic flaring up her thigh. Straight into her sex.

She tried to ignore the pulse of erotic heat that flared low in her belly. "No, I'm relieved you ordered your man to play the fool to test my honesty. I'd hate to think you'd hire someone that sloppy."

The vampire laughed, a deep, masculine rumble, seductive and warm. "No, I have not survived three hundred and forty years by surrounding myself with sloppy bodyguards. And there've been times even careful ones..." Hunter stopped and rolled his powerful shoulders as if shrugging off a painful memory.

"Sometimes it doesn't matter how careful or well-trained you are." Genevieve's voice dropped to a whisper. "Especially if you're betrayed."

He studied her, going still as a predator. Seeing too much. "The scars from betrayal go to the soul. And they never quite fade, do they?"

"Not so far." Genevieve forced a smile and deliberately sought to turn the conversation back to business. "What are you looking for in a personal assistant?"

You, Hunter thought.
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SPOTLIGHT: The Dark One by Angela Knight

SPOTLIGHT: The Dark One
by Angela Knight

Cover art by Angela Knight
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-015-3
Genre(s):
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=15

Blurb:

Matia of Ruza is one of the legendary Battlemaids -- a woman warrior who has taken an oath of celibacy in service of the Maid of Light. When Kaska of Artane saves her from an ambush by a gang of brigands, Matia finds her oath tested by her handsome rescuer’s erotic appeal. But Kaska means to do more than test Matia’s faith. He worships the Dark One, and he wants to make Matia the centerpiece in a sizzling erotic ritual in honor of his god.
But first, he’s got to defeat her in combat – and win her heart.

Publisher’s note: The Dark One was first released under the author’s penname of Victoria Michaels.
This title is also available in print!

Excerpt:

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

Chapter One

Kaska of Artane slowed his stallion to an easy amble. Prince Britar’s fortress lay a full day away, and he’d ridden poor Warbringer hard this past month. He knew the Prince awaited the intelligence he’d gathered as a spy in neighboring Trovan but laming his horse would serve no purpose.Particularly with war on the horizon. Besides, the last time Kaska had come this way, he’d had to battle the local brigands. Two fell to his blade before the rest fled, but that left five. And they might be in the mood for revenge. I don’t care to ride headlong into an ambush.“Whoreson bastards!” A woman’s roar of fury brought Kaska’s head up. He drew Warbringer to a prancing halt.Swords clashed, interspaced with male taunts and laughter. The laughter had a distinctly ugly note. The woman swore again, an edge of grim desperation in her voice.The thieves had found a new victim.Kaska set his heels to Warbringer’s flanks and thundered up the road toward the sound. Rounding the bend, he saw five men fighting a lone female traveler they’d managed to unhorse. He recognized the dented, rusted armor and unshaven faces; it was indeed the same band of thieves. But their victim was no common woman. Her armor and sword marked her as a follower of the Maid of Light -- a female warrior. She was tall for a woman, with a lithe, muscular build and pretty breasts barely contained by her intricately embossed breastplate. Long black hair swirled around her face as she spun and hacked at her tormentors with a slim sword designed for a woman’s hand. One of the brigands already lay dead at her feet, but four others remained, odds too great even for one of the legendary Battlemaids.A grin of sheer, savage joy spread across Kaska’s face. With a howl, he drew the blade sheathed across his back and kicked Warbringer into a thundering charge.The nearest of the brigands whirled too late. Kaska took his head with a single stroke.Another of the men jumped at him, hacking for his thigh with an axe, but Kaska spun Warbringer aside and thrust his blade into the thief’s chest. The man tumbled off the lethal point, gurgling out his life.Meanwhile, the third brigand fell to the Battlemaid’s sword. His head tumbled from his shoulders.The fourth man looked from Kaska to the thieves’ would-be victim, calculated the odds, and took to his heels.Kaska snatched a dagger from his thigh sheath and hurled it at the coward with an expert flip of his wrist. The man went down, the blade buried to the hilt between his shoulder blades.Scarcely breathing hard, Kaska turned to the maid. “Are you well?”“Well enough.” She studied him, her dark eyes level. There was a sharp and elegant beauty to her face, with its broad, high cheekbones and square little chin. Her lush mouth could inspire a monk to carnal fantasies. “My thanks, warrior,” she said at last in a low, husky voice, pushing the long black hair out of her face. “There were too many of them for me to best alone.” She considered him, appraising the width of his chest and the strength of his sword arm. Female appreciation lit her gaze, mixed with a warrior’s caution.She had reason for that caution, for he meant to challenge her himself. He worshiped the Dark One, and his god relished nothing as much as the moans of a defeated Battlemaid. Imagining the tight grip of her virgin ass, Kaska felt his cock swell behind his loincloth.Give her time to rest, and then…Of course, the maid might well kill him instead, but looking at her long legs and full, sweet breasts, Kaska thought it a chance well worth taking.But as he opened his mouth to warn her of his intent, all color left the Battlemaid’s face. Her eyes rolled up. Kaska threw himself from Warbringer’s back as she collapsed in a heap. Two long strides carried him to the maid’s side. Dropping to one knee on the dusty road, Kaska began an anxious examination. He found no wounds on the front of her body, so he rolled her onto her back.The maid groaned and lifted her head. “Wha -?”“Seems one of your cur attackers landed a blow after all,” he told her grimly. “There’s a stab wound in your back just under your backplate, over your left hip.”“Aye,” she said, letting her head fall. “One of them had a dagger.”“‘Tis not deep, but it bleeds still,” Kaska said. “I can treat it, if you permit.”“Aye,” the maid said, breathing now in shallow pants. “My thanks.”Kaska nodded and rose to retrieve his pack of battlefield medicines from Warbringer. Well, he thought as he walked to his horse, I won’t be challenging her any time soon. Not with that wound. Later, perhaps. When he’d examined her, he’d noticed she had a truly delicious ass. He wanted it.




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