Hot Flash: WRONG by Shelby Morgen

WRONG

by Shelby Morgen Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-664-5

Genre(s): Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary)

Theme(s): BBW, Cougar

Length: Hot Flash

Page Count: 22

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Blurb:
Katie's got her eye on tall, dark, and hunky, wrapped in black leather and jeans.
Problem. He's so sinfully sexy, she can't get a word out in his presence. Not to mention the fact that he looks like he's barely legal, at best. She needs to get him out of her system.
Michael's got other ideas. He's set his sights on improving Katie's theory of the Big Bang -- in more ways than one.
Excerpt:
Wrong
Shelby Morgen
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Shelby Morgen

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.

Go for it.
No, no, no. Not going to happen.
Come on, Katie. You can do this.
Absolutely not.
Oh my God. He looks even better without the jacket. Look at that body. And why do you think he's holding the jacket there?
Katie tore her gaze away from the cowboy holding the jacket, firmly deciding not to speculate on what all that black leather might or might not be hiding. "Thank you. I hope you enjoy the book."
Katie picked at the book cover, trying to contain her agitation. This was her third book signing in as many months, and the third time this cowboy had lined up for her autograph. That couldn't be a coincidence. Could it?
Stop staring at his crotch.
She averted her eyes, knowing she was blushing furiously. She looked down at the book in her hands -- her latest release, Cosmic Theory and The Big Bang -- and forced herself to quit thumbing the edge of the flyleaf.
I'd like to show him a big bang.
Oh, that was just wrong. She worked hard at not giggling. Physicists did not giggle. Not at book signings. And not because a handsome stranger stood in her line. Especially not when that sinfully sexy leather clad stranger'd shown up twice before -- for the same book -- and she'd still not been able to get a single word out of her stupid mouth.
You can do this! Come on, Katie. He's next up. Say something. Anything! Speak!
She looked up into the most gorgeous set of blue-green eyes she'd ever seen -- where were his sunglasses? -- and, once again, froze.
"Michael," he supplied.
What? Why was he telling her his name? Oh, so she could sign the book. Flustered, she reached for her pen -- why had she set it down? -- and knocked into her water glass. "Shit!" Katie clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Whoops!" Michael grabbed the glass -- and the pitcher -- just in time.
Michael -- she'd already known his name -- she never forgot names -- had the grace to laugh, just loud enough to cover her indiscretion. Hastily flipping the book open to the title page, she wrote For Michael -- you're a lifesaver! Dr. Catherine Vargen. "Thank you," she managed out loud.
There. She'd done it. She'd actually spoken to him. On some crazy inspiration, she pulled out one of her promo cards. "I'm giving a lecture at the planetarium tonight," she offered.
"What are you doing afterward?"
She blinked, twice, looking, she knew, like an insane owl. "Excuse me?"
"Q & A? Group discussion?"
"Oh." Yes, of course that's what he'd meant. Idiot. "Yes, I'll be fielding questions after the lecture."
"Great. I'll be there."
"Thank you!" she repeated lamely as he headed for the register.
Giving her a great view of tight jeans over a really fine looking ass.
Idiot, idiot, idiot. Quit looking! Jail bait. You'll get yourself arrested!
He couldn't be that young, could he? No. College student. Had to be at least twenty-one or twenty-two, maybe. Still. Twenty years her junior. Wrong. Just plain wrong.
Yeah, well, all she'd done so far was look. Couldn't arrest her for that. Not while he had his clothes on, anyway.
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Blind Passion, A Wolfman Tale by Brannan Black

Blind Passion, A Wolfman Tale

by Brannan BlackCover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-613-3

Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Dark Fantasy

Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Werewolves, Cougar

Series: Wolfman Tales

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1569

Blurb:
Food stores running low, I resolved I would not die down here in the stark silence of my burrow. I know there are dangers outside: wild animals, fatal injuries, and worst of all, the beasts that had once been men. Wild, feral creatures infected with a virus that turns normal men into half animal beasts.

But I needed to feel the sun on my face, hear the whispers of the wind as it caresses my skin. To smell the earth, the flowers, the freshness after it rains. To know life goes on outside my isolated tomb. It was worth the risk of a horrid death for even one hour of such ecstasy.

I never imagined coming face to face with two young beasts. They want my burrow -- and me. And they aren't planning to take no for answer. It would seemed my loneliness has ended. At least until they realize what a burden I will be. In a world where only the strongest survive, I'm excess baggage. Unless I can convince them otherwise.

Excerpt:

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Mirror, Mirror: Scent of Love by J. Hali Steele

Mirror, Mirror: Scent of Love
by J. Hali Steele
Cover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-590-7
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Cougar
Series: Mirror, Mirror (Multi-Author)
Length: Hot Flash
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1563

Blurb:
Sheila Jones is an average middle-aged woman who never dreamed of being a guest at an exclusive, private spa, or of having the ménage she always fantasized about. Nor did she expect to bump into the man of her dreams. But she does... and he's half her age.

Farrow Kincaid is rich, young and spoiled. Little did he know his arrogance would throw him into a realm of magic where the only woman who could save him had every reason not to.

Excerpt:
Mirror, Mirror: Scent of Love
J. Hali Steele
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 J. Hali Steele

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 distinguished looking gentleman held the thin card she'd spritzed with French perfume to his nose, and smiled with a glint in his mysterious eyes. "Perfect. I'll take it," he said. Sheila Jones loved his sexy, dark gray eyes, and she could have tumbled headlong into them.
Until she saw Farrow Kincaid. As usual, there was a beautiful, young girl on his arm. Miles' Department Store held an account in his wealthy family's name, and Farrow had taken to coming in every week with his newest conquest. He'd barely noticed Sheila each time he'd waltzed up to the counter and bought his escort a bottle of expensive perfume. What will it be today?
His form fitting gray T-shirt couldn't disguise his athletic build; the jeans did nothing to conceal thigh muscles that bunched with each step he took toward the counter. Her cheeks grew warm as she made a futile attempt to pull her eyes away from the glorious bulge at his crotch. Cream slid into her panties as she envisioned the wet head of his cock slipping into her pussy. A dream she'd inexplicably had for months now. Mentally shaking herself, she refocused on the gentleman at the counter. "Would you like it gift-wrapped, sir?"
Before the man answered, the pink box was swiped from the counter by the girl on young Kincaid's arm. "This is it. It's the one I want."
"Then it's yours, baby." Farrow's deep blue eyes peered in the girl's direction.
Sheila watched him rake a slender hand through his perfectly styled black hair, wondering how it would feel tangled in hers. His lips curved into a smile that made her body tremble. What havoc those lips could create on... Get a grip! "Sorry, it's the last one. Our new shipment arrives tomorrow."
The girlfriend whined like a banshee. "Farrow, make her give it to me!"
Sheila reached for the box and pulled it from the girl's hand. "We'll have more tomorrow."
Farrow wedged between the banshee and the gentleman and, reaching across the glass case, he gently peeled Sheila's fingers from around the box. Without making eye contact with her, he looked at the man. "Pops, do you mind if I take it?" He nodded with a smile in the direction of the pretty girl. "I'm sure you understand." Finally, he glanced at Sheila, who stared back with her mouth open. "Order it for him, charge it to the Kincaid account, and we're all good here, right?"
"Excuse me..." The insolent little prick! Actually, that was the only part of him that wasn't little. The type of girls he paraded around showcased his pea-sized brain though, and the fact he only thought with one head -- the swollen one belonging to his cock. Ooh, she was mad as hell. Madder than she should have been because for months now she'd wanted that prick and his cock. What was it about him? It certainly wasn't his manners that attracted her.
The older man stopped her. "One day won't matter." His hair, a little long, was dark, feathered throughout with gray.
Sheila didn't understand why she wanted to run her fingers through it. "I'll take your number and call you the minute our shipment arrives."
"There's no hurry."
What was happening to her? Two men, as different as night and day, stood in front of the glass counter. One was older, mysterious-looking, and if Farrow hadn't walked up, their conversation might have ended differently. Farrow was a jaw-dropping, gorgeous young jackass. Her body went all wonky. Shit, maybe she was going through the change or something. At this rate, she'd need to go to the lingerie department and buy new panties. Standing there, staring back and forth at both men, Sheila had an orgasm. The seat of the underwear she wore grew warm, sticky. Good lord! She couldn't get the charge slip for Farrow's signature to print fast enough.
Returning the pen, his fingers lingered on hers. "Bet you'd be hot in the sack."
"You... you arrogant bastard!"
Farrow strolled off, leaving his young lady at the counter. Her brown eyes shot daggers at Sheila before she stalked off.
Sheila jumped at the sound of the gentleman's voice. "Ahh, youth. So misspent on the young." He touched her hand and said, "No need to call. I'll have someone pick it up." Now his eyes appeared black. He gazed at her before he handed her a business card. "Don't be afraid to embrace life."
The phone buzzed and pulled her attention away; when she looked back, he was gone. Sheila read the card, absently rubbing the tingling spot where the man had touched her hand. Tavoro Sands Resort, Suva City, Fiji. Beneath that was printed a name: Mr. Obsidian. When she turned the expensive card over, there were three words: At Your Service, followed by a phone number.
"I'm not afraid."
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The Marker by Shelby Morgen

The Marker


by Shelby Morgen

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-575-4
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure

Theme(s): Dark Desire, Cougar

Length: Novel

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1531

Blurb:
1974: Peace, love, sex, drugs -- and murder -- at Commune in the heart of West Virginia.

Hope knew she should have killed Jesse the night he used her as his marker in a poker game with Spike. When Spike won that marker, he stole Hope's heart.

Spike wanted more than just a weekend with Hope. He wanted forever. That was more than Hope could promise. A man like Spike, a good man, would never understand the evil a man like Jesse was capable of.

1989: Now he's First Sergeant Sam Callaghan, and he's back.

When a chance meeting drops Fiona Donovan into the arms of Sam Callaghan, West Virginia State Police, their past twists in on both of them, threatening to tear apart their worlds, for better or worse.

Hope -- Fiona -- was the love of his life, the woman who can still rock his world with a single kiss. When he's around her, Sam forgets to think. But first and foremost Sam's always been a cop. If Sam discovers Fiona really did murdered Jesse, will he be able to arrest her? There are a few things in love's way -- like her dead husband's missing body, over a million dollars in cash, and the IRA...

Publisher's Note: This title has been previously released and has been re-edited for release with Changeling Press.
Excerpt:

The Marker


Shelby Morgen

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Shelby Morgen



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 asphalt felt slightly sticky with heat under his black oxfords. The air in the administration building was already stuffy, though summer wasn't officially here yet. Sam stood waiting at the front desk while the receptionist called for a junior officer who would escort him back to the operations building.

Brenda, his dispatcher, had asked him out a few weeks ago. A man couldn't help noticing how well Brenda filled out that uniform. She wasn't Hope, but she'd been there, been part of his life, every day for the last fifteen years. If she hadn't given up on him yet, Sam decided, he'd accept. Hell. Maybe he'd ask her. He wasn't getting any younger. Besides, there was that betting pool the squad had going. He wasn't supposed to know about it, but there was little in his barracks that escaped his notice.



"Can I help you, Officer?"



Sam pushed his smoke-colored sunglasses to the top of his head long enough to let his eyes adjust to the relatively dim interior florescent lighting. He looked down -- and down again.



The woman who stood behind the reception desk now had to be less than five feet tall. She stood admiring him with pale blue eyes that were just a little too friendly.



Where had she come from? How had she managed to simply appear right in front of him? He really was losing his edge. "I'm already signed in and stamped," Sam explained. He held out his fist so she could see the ink that looked like a temporary tattoo across the back of his hand.



Her warm appraisal made him uncomfortable, like a piece of meat in a butcher's display case. He always got a sick, guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach when women looked at him that way. He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingering a worn silver chain.



Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee...



He shifted his gaze away from direct contact with the woman at the front desk, studying the pictures on the wall behind her. Anything but meeting the woman's watercolor eyes. Anything not to encourage her.



The pictures held the usual faces. The Governor. The Commissioner of Corrections. The names changed from one institution to another, but the faces stayed pretty much the same. "Sam Callaghan, West Virginia State Police. I'm waiting for --"



Except that one. Sam stopped mid-sentence as his eyes scanned the picture again. Employee of the Month. "Fiona J. Donovan."



The woman blinked twice. "Excuse me?"



He was hardly aware he'd read the name aloud. Sam rallied himself, forcing his breathing back under control, willing his pulse rate back to normal. He turned his most charming smile on the little woman. Her badge said she was a unit manager. Doris White. "I'm waiting for an escort back to Interview, Ms. White, but I'd really like to see Fiona Donovan while I'm here if you could arrange that for me."



Doris studied him for a moment longer, her smile fading. "Fiona's in records, pulling some case files for me. I'll take you back."



Sam nodded curtly, dismissing the woman as if she didn't exist. Because, for him, she didn't exist. His mouth went dry. His chest felt tight, as if there were some great weight pressing on it. He slid his hand back into his pocket. Hail Mary, full of grace...



The hall seemed like the longest walk he'd ever taken. You're just imagining the resemblance. You've been wrong before.



The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women...



Why would she be here? He'd thought to find her in a restaurant, or a shop somewhere or -- or anywhere else. Anything but actually working in law enforcement.



Hope? A caseworker named Fiona Donovan? That can't be Hope. Not here.



Doris waved at a doorway where a sign on the wall said Records. "I'll be around the corner in the copy room if you need me," she offered.



Hope...



His heart was beating so fast it was bound to explode.



Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.



He stood staring, drinking in the sight of her, waiting for her to feel his eyes watching, waiting for her to look up, recognize him, call his name.



Control. Get yourself under control. Slow, deep breaths. Can't let her see you falling apart like this.



Her name was different, her hair was shorter, just past shoulder length, but she couldn't change her face -- the face that had haunted his dreams. She looked a little older, naturally, but not so much older. Not as much older as he'd been feeling lately. She'd gained some weight, but only enough to give her curves a fuller, softer line. He'd have recognized her anywhere. His arms ached to hold her. He had to try three times before he could find the voice to speak her name.



"Ms. Donovan?"

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Hot Flash: Beautiful Music-- Interlude in C by Faith Talbot

Beautiful Music: Interlude in C

by Faith Talbot Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-480-1

Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes

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

Series: Beautiful Music

Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1465

Blurb:
Kayla, Jason, and Erik know they're meant for each other, but staying together means making some serious changes.
Excerpt:
Beautiful Music: Interlude in C


Faith Talbot

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Faith Talbot



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 tiny apartment smelled like pot, partially washed male, and a little like something that had been left in the back of the refrigerator too long. Kayla tried not to wrinkle her nose; she could already see the poorly hidden trepidation on Jason's face as he led her into the living room. The coffee table had a pizza box and two empty takeout containers on it. Kayla idly wondered how long they'd been there. Daze on End had been on tour until last week, and Jason and Erik hadn't been home for any substantial amount of time for at least three months, as far as she knew.

"Well," said Jason, not quite meeting Kayla's eyes, "here it is."



Erik, not showing much in the way of trepidation at all, flopped onto the couch and dropped his feet on the coffee table. One of the takeout containers fell onto the floor.



"Home sweet home," he said, and tipped his head back and closed his eyes.



"Sorry it's a mess," Jason offered.



Kayla followed Jason into the bedroom, carrying her overnight bag. The smell here was rawer, muskier, and Kayla waited, unsure what to say as Jason hastily put down his own burden of luggage and pushed open a window.



"Really, God, I'm sorry. This place is a fucking mess."



Kayla set her bags gently on the floor. "It's okay, Jason. You haven't been home in ages. You're guys. It could be a lot worse."



She smiled, and was relieved when he gave her a sheepish smile back. "Yeah. Well. It's kind of always like this."



"I was giving you an out, honey. Take it."



Jason laughed, still sounding a little nervous, but better. Kayla stepped up to him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.



"One thing, though," she said, feeling him relax under her touch. "You are not fucking me on those sheets until they've been washed."

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1465