Dawg Days at Changeling Press

Changeling Press Returns to Dawg Town on Groundhog Day!

Dawg Town: First Snow by Selena Illyria

Dawg Town: First Snow

by Selena Illyria cover art by Reneé George

ISBN: 978-1-60521-364-4

Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire

Theme(s): Interracial, Shapeshifters

Series: Dawg Town

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1308

Blurb:
Robbie's a prairie dog shifter. Kitty is a Scottish Terrier shifter. They've been friends since infants and lovers since their teens. Unfortunately, when their parents, former best friends, had a fight, Robbie and Kitty became the Romeo and Juliet of Barkus.
They'd been hiding their love affair for years when Kitty decides she's had enough. It's time to put up or move out. Robbie left to tell his parents and has now returned to claim his mate.
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.
Kitty rolled over and groaned. A glance at the clock revealed it was one in the morning. She'd been awakened yet again by an erotic dream of Robbie, only to come back to reality. With a sigh, she punched the pillows and tried to get comfortable again. It didn't work. She missed him, missed his long, hard body pressed against hers. She yearned for the scrape of his hairy legs against her smooth ones and wanted to hear the soft, soothing sound of his breathing as he slept.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she dashed them away angrily. He hadn't called in a month, and it seemed as if he was avoiding the bar altogether. She wasn't sure whether to be grateful or angry at his absence. Sure, she could do her job in peace, but it wasn't the same not seeing his smiling, happy face among the boys. Kitty would even put up with his horrible jokes if that meant he'd come back to the bar.

The boys refused to tell her what was going on, which only pissed her off more. Silently, she thought they blamed her for Robbie's disappearance from the bar. She wasn't sure whether to be pissed with them for blaming her or mad at herself for not quitting after she'd broken things off with Robbie. Now she was left in a quandary. Did she continue to waitress at the Prairie Dawg bar or move on? There were a few jobs in town she could try her hand at, but none of them would be as much fun as the bar.

She rolled onto her back and let out a soft sigh. The minutes ticked by, and sleep didn't tug at her eyelids. With a groan of frustration, she threw back the covers and padded out of her bedroom and downstairs. Kitty went into the kitchen and made herself a mocha cappuccino. While the milk heated up on the stove, she went to the window and peeked out. Delicate veins of frost decorated the panes and showed an opaque picture of bleak ground of dull colors. Only the evergreens planted in her front yard and around her house gave some relief from the bleakness. Even the sky was a sad gray instead of deep, dark blue.

Kitty missed seeing the stars winking and sparkling at her as the moon traveled across the sky. She turned away from the scene, took the milk off the stove and poured the boiling liquid into her coffee mix. A small smile curled her lips as she thought of what Robbie would say had he witnessed such a sight.

"That's not coffee; it's crap. Let me make you a real cappuccino." This would of course create a mess in her kitchen and all for a small cup of coffee that wasn't even hot by the time he served it. She used to tease him about his coffee snobbery, just like his beer. He couldn't drink just any beer. It had to be a specific brand; even then, it wasn't perfect. It had to be nice and cold, not in a can but a bottle. Lastly, he refused to just throw it back; it had to be drunk nice and slow.

She took a sip of the cappuccino, savoring the bitter sweetness of the coffee. With a sigh, she wandered over to the fridge and opened it. There, on the top shelf, was a six-pack of his favorite beer, untouched. She hadn't had the heart to give it away.

The beer was just like his stuff, all over the house. Kitty had asked him get his things, but he had never stopped by, and she hadn't wanted to call him for fear that she would take him back. Robbie's worn leather bomber jacket still hung on a hook near the back door. His hiking boots were in the living room right next to his backpack. In her bathroom, she still had all his toiletries.

When Kitty's thoughts turned to her bedroom, she let out a soft sob. His shirts still hung in her closet along with two spare pairs of jeans. His brush sat on her dresser, and another of his jackets was slung over the back her overstuffed wingback chair. The candles he liked were still scattered around the room. Everywhere she looked in her home, she saw him, them.

Her knees and hands shook. She sat down in the nearest chair and put the mug on the table before covering her face with her hands. Kitty began to sob uncontrollably.

"I wish I could forget you," she whispered.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1308

Dawg Town: Big Dawg by Celia Kyle

Dawg Town: Big Dawg
by Celia Kyle

cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-292-0
Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1201

Blurb:

Mac's dreamed of owning his own golf course from the moment he hefted his first club. It's opening day at Dawg Track and for Mac, it's Time to let the Big Dawg Eat. But things don't go according to plan and his owl shifter lover, Douglas, is there to smooth the way for some wayward dawgs looking for a home.

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.

It was a good day to own a golf course. The grass was green, the course was clear and he'd just sucked his lover's brains through his cock. Yes, today was the perfect day to own a golf course.
Mac inhaled a lungful of the sweet Kansas air. At seven in the morning, the sun just peeked over the trees and a whisper of a breeze danced through the foliage. Not too hot just yet and near perfect weather for the first round of golf to ever be played on the Dawg Track.
He'd worked hard on building the best course possible west of the Mississippi and damned if he hadn't succeeded. In his mind, at least. The course would help to bring money into their little town of Barkus while still staying true to his roots.
No high falutin' pro golfer would ever step foot on the Dawg Track green as long as he had a say so. And considering he signed every check and approved every membership application, Mac had a feeling the Dawg Track would always be a place for the working man to enjoy a round of golf with his friends and grab a beer at the 20th hole when he was through. (The nineteenth hole was a special place for him and Douglas. Real private like.) As far as Mac was concerned, golf wouldn't remain a rich man's sport.
At the Dawg Track the idea of wearing polo shirts and slacks for a round was thrown right out the window. Mac liked being comfortable when he played and he knew other men did as well. Hell, he'd even gotten a pair of shit-kickers made with cleats so he could go straight from his Harley to the course and back again without having to strap on some namby-pamby golfing shoes.
Yeah, this was the life. It was opening day for the Dawg Track and every tee time had been reserved months in advance. Whoo, boy. He had to be the luckiest golf lovin' Dawg to ever live.
With one last look over his domain, Mac figured it was about time to get the show on the road before the heat made playing unbearable. He reached into his bag, pulled out a tee and ball and teed up. Then he went back for him, the Big Dawg, a custom driver made just for him. Mac slid the club from his bag and admired the workmanship once more. A big ol' sweet spot in the middle of the head and the purtiest bit of graphite, steel and God only knew what else, made the club one of his most prized possessions.
"Ooh yeah, time to let the Big Dawg eat." He grinned and took a few practice swings. The Big Dawg sliced through the air like a knife through warm butter, and the soft whoosh as it skimmed the grass was music to his ears.
Not willing to delay his game any longer, he stepped up to the tee, eye on the ball. Lining up his shot, he couldn't suppress his smile. He'd done it, he'd designed and built his own golf course for guys like him and there was nothing stopping him now. Mac swung the club back, the head of Big Dawg rising higher in the air while he completed the arc. With a soft exhale, he brought the club down, eyes focused on his target.
The first ball to ever be hit on Dawg Track...
Out of nowhere a blur of tawny fur darted across his field of vision, taking his golf ball with it. Mac woofed the shot, striking the tee and losing his club on the upswing. Big Dawg went flying across the course to land a good twenty feet ahead of him.
"Gawd damn it, Trenton! Get your furball ass back here with my ball!" Damned little pint-sized prairie dog didn't know to leave well enough alone. The eighteen-year-old pup dogged his heels all the time and now he'd mucked up the first game! He bellowed, "Trenton!"
"Aw, Mac, leave the poor kid alone. He just wants attention, you know that. With so many pups running around Barkus, you know some of 'em get attached to other men. Especially since you won't let me snack on any of them."
Mac spun around (as much as his cleats on grass would let him) and glared at Douglas, his partner and lover. The man winked at him. Of all the...
"Dougie." His lover hated that name. "Why don't you tell me how that little prairie dog got onto the property when you know this is a dog-free zone?" He stalked forward. "I didn't sink eight feet of fencing into the ground around the course just so you could let them all in." He took a deep, calming breath. He wasn't going to blow up at Douglas. He. Wasn't. His frustration needed to stay directed at the pint-sized pup that stole his ball and ruined his freakin' game. He softened his voice. "Baby, we talked about this and --"
"And I told you I disagreed." The shorter man propped his fists on his hips with a stomp and Mac's favorite curl dropped over Douglas' forehead, dipping behind the man's glasses. "It's not right, Mac."
"You just want to gobble them up for a midnight snack, don't you, Douglas? My little owl's got a hankering for a little prairie dog, don't ya?" Mac reached out and tugged his lover into his arms and nuzzled his neck, nibbling the soft skin below his ear. "I've got something you can snack on."

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1201

Dawg Town: Puppy Dawg by Camille Anthony

Dawg Town: Puppy Dawg
by Camille Anthony

cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-265-4
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Interracial, Shapeshifters, BBW
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1200

Blurb:

Puppy. Quentin Mosely hates his nickname. He might be the youngest member of the Dawg motorcycle gang, but he's a grown male, one who's thinking about mating. Unfortunately, the female his tail is wagging for is the new librarian, and a human. Knowing a human/shifter relationship rarely succeeds, Quentin spends his days gazing hopelessly through the library windows at the luscious black woman.

Carly. Carlisle Brothers has the hots for teacher -- even if he is ten years her junior! She's moved to Barkus, Kansas -- the absolute middle of nowhere -- chasing peace and finds it in this back-of-beyond town. It's a slice of heaven... or it would be, if not for being overrun with prairie dogs. Still, she'd gladly put up with the little rodents if that sexy schoolteacher Quentin Mosely would teach her the ABC's of love. Unfortunately, she's an old-fashioned kind of gal, uncomfortable with making the first move -- especially on a younger man. That's up to him.

It'll take a determined matchmaker, a summer storm, a missing baby, a huge misunderstanding and a sheriff with handcuffs to set these two stumbling lovers on the path to each other.



Excerpt:


Unedited excerpt of DT: Puppy Dawg
(c) 2009 Camille Anthony

How it all began…Quentin Mosely braced his paws against the glass and peered through thebottom window of the library, the only one he could reach in his present form. Sneakingaway to ogle the new librarian was insane. He’d seen her from afar and liked what hesaw, but ever since their lunch meeting to plan a fieldtrip for his English class, he’dbeen unable to get the luscious black woman off his mind.


Third period Math had been a bitch. The unruly pups, along with the few human students that attended Barkus Elementary, had played him for his lapse. He’d get back at them with a surprise quiz, but right now, none of that mattered.


Quentin couldn’t understand this driven need to enact the Prairie Dawg version of a peeping Tom. He only knew he had to see her, smell her, be as close to her as hecould get. His nose twitched, trying to catch a sniff of her through the glass.Carly, Carly, Carly…Her name -- full of fun and curves -- was like a mantra chanted in his mind. Hel iked wrapping his human tongue around the syllables. He liked the way she looked,too. From her pretty dark brown eyes that seemed to be always smiling, to the round,compact shape she carried with a serene acceptance he’d rarely noted among humans.


He leaned closer to the window.


God, he wanted to touch that full head of fluffy black kinky twists falling to her gently sloping shoulders, softening the lines of her round face. Her dark, creamysmooth skin -- reminding him of rich loamy prairie dirt after a spring rain -- stretchedacross wide cheekbones. Freckles dotted the flat bridge of her wide, button nose. He justknew she was ripe for burrowing into. What he wouldn’t give to explore her fertile field, dig deep in her dark tunnels. If only she wasn’t human…


“Puppy, is that you?”


Quentin froze. He knew that voice.


“What the hell are you doing skulking around the library in dawg form? Youknow this part of town isn’t familiar with our… peculiar traits.”


Looking way up, he sighed to see Logan Smith staring down at him, his lovelyfiancée, Kaylee, hanging on his arm. Damn it, being found this way, by this particulargossipy dawg, was the last thing Quentin needed. He was never going to live thisdown.


“Hi, Mr. Mosely. What are you looking at?” Kaylee peered over his head into thelarge main area of the library. Her eyes widened. “Oh, I see!”


Logan wasn’t looking in the window. He was focused on Quentin. “Puppy, whatare you thinking, running around town in your natural shape? Someone’s gonna stepon you, if you’re not careful.”


Quentin resented Logan’s interference. Just because he was the youngestmember of the biker group that hung out at the Prairie Dawg Saloon didn’t give Logan the right to treat him like a baby. He wasn’t a child, damn it.


Kaylee aimed a light slap at her boyfriend’s arm, laughing. “Logan, it’s obvious what he’s doing. He has the hots for the new librarian!”


Incensed, Quentin chittered at Kaylee, baring his teeth in frustration. Her soft laughter made him want to sink lower than a field mouse, but while he battled with his embarrassment, he couldn’t help noticing his lack of sexual response to her. Once, he’d thought about challenging Logan for a chance at her, but no longer. The realization was sobering.


Quentin turned his head and stared, really giving Kaylee a good once-over. Shewas just as pretty as before, though now she was mated with Logan she no longer gave off those “fuck me” vibes. That should be it, but Quentin didn’t think so. His nose had latched on to something -- someone -- a whole lot sweeter to him than the half-breedshifter.


No. Impossible.


The librarian wasn’t one of them. She wasn’t a shifter. Why was heharboring thoughts of mating when nothing permanent could come of thisinappropriate attraction?


Sure, the rare human was okay finding out their lover was a shifter, but mostcouldn’t handle it. Also, cross-species romances weren’t easy. Just look what happenedto poor Blake -- Kaylee’s father -- turned into road-kill trying to get back to his humanmate. The outside world was hard on prairie dog shifters.




http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1200

Dawg Town-- Chip & Dale by Mary Winter

Dawg Town: Chip & Dale
by Mary Winter

cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-227-2
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Ménage, Shapeshifters
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1199

Blurb:

Back from getting a degree in animal biology, Tusa returns to her fiancé, Chip, and -- she hopes -- his brother, Dale. She doesn't realize that Chip has already made plans for their wedding, and for his brother to also be with the woman he loves. Usually a prairie dog colony is one male with several females. This time, it's going to be the other way around, and Tusa wouldn't have it any other way.




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.

Apparently her mother's letters hadn't lied. Chip Muskatoni had indeed done very well for himself. Tusa Riverwell paused on the paved walkway outside C&D Waste Water, noting the upturned cement drainage tubes filled with flowers and the new steel building finished in a nice tan. Black shutters framed each window. Certainly a far cry from the tumble-down shed he and his brother had used for an office before she'd left for college, and the location she had expected when she returned to them.
Tusa strode forward, putting a little extra swing in her hips. She neared the door, hearing a conversation through the open window. Just business, nothing provocative, but the sound of Chip's low voice sent heat drifting southward to flood her pussy with moisture. Her nipples beaded behind the halter top she wore. It tied behind her neck, just below her short-cropped black hair. She curled her fingers around the doorknob.
A moment's hesitation, just a moment's worth, claimed her. They hadn't really talked, and the question of whether she'd return to one brother -- or both -- hung in the air. She forced her hand to turn the knob, forced herself to apply just enough pressure to push open the door. She stepped onto a welcome rug sitting on a cement floor. On her right, a sturdy, workman-like desk with a phone and computer sat empty. She stepped inside and locked the door behind her.
The click of a phone returning to its cradle announced the end of Chip's call. Tusa turned toward the desk on the left, a smile on her lips. She knew she presented a picture in her fuck-me boots, shorts that would have made Daisy Duke blush, and her halter top. "Honey," she drawled, "I'm home."
She posed for a moment, one hand on her hip, the other reaching up to toy with the straps on her halter top. One tug, just one, and the first string swept across her breast, partially baring it. Her inner prairie dog perked up her head and wiggled her tail. She licked her lips and sashayed forward, still holding onto the other string. The top of her halter caught on her nipple, and the puckered bead held it in place.
Behind his desk, Chip gaped. The years she'd spent at college had honed his features and turned his handsome face stunning. High cheekbones, full lips that knew just how to kiss, and thick-lashed dark brown eyes gave him model-sexy looks. He leaned back in his chair, his tan work shirt unbuttoned at the throat to reveal an enticing triangle of skin and a few whorls of dark brown hair. Hunger filled his expression.
She reached his desk and traced her fingers against the hard wood. She guessed his cock would be just as hard by now. Circling the desk, she sat on the edge, surprised her halter top stayed in place. "Miss me?"

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1199

Dawgtown-- Playing for Keeps by Dawn Montgomery

Dawg Town: Playing for Keeps
by Dawn Montgomery

cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-260-9
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1198

Blurb:

Prairie dogs may be low on the food chain, but Riley Cates is anything but. More man than dawg, he's finally carved his place in Barkus. Until Tara walks back into his life. Now there's no turning back, because once Riley has his taste, he'll never be able to let her go.


Tara's drawn to the one man who holds her soul, her happiness in his paws. And no matter what happens, this time, she's playing for keeps.




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.
"I'm not here to ask for another chance. I just wanted to let you know you were right."
Riley crossed his arms. "About what?"
"About all of it. The bike wasn't an excuse. It really did start sputtering right outside of town. I wanted to come in and chat with you and then leave you to your life."
"You are a piece of work, baby."
"Yeah. I expected you to say something like that." She turned her head and started rifling through her saddlebag. "I can pay you."
Before he could think, Riley moved close enough to snake her wrist in a loose grip. "Oh you'll pay me, Tara. The question is, how far are you willing to go?"
He felt her tremble at his touch. "I don't play games anymore, Riley. One-night stands and bullshit are behind me."
He tugged her close and inhaled the rich scent of his woman. Too many years had passed without her. "Who said anything about games and one-night stands? I'm tired of waiting, baby." He ran his fingers through her hair. Vanilla shampoo and a musk uniquely Tara teased his nose.
A soft cry of distress left her throat, but she pressed against him, trembling.
"You'd better decide now, honey. I'm not letting you go this time."
Tara's pussy clenched. His voice, that growl. She shivered. He could turn her hotter than hell in less than two point two seconds. Her slick heat dampened her panties and she whimpered. Yes, she wanted this. Was she just fooling herself in believing she'd be able to walk away?
"Make damn sure, honey. I have to hear the words."
"I'm sure, Riley. Please."

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Dawg Town: Hot Dawg by Marteeka Karland

Dawg Town: Hot Dawg
by Marteeka Karland

cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-246-3
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1187

Blurb:

Selene is tired of the same old same old. In an effort to get away from the ole hamster wheel, she takes off on a pink Harley into the night...


Straight to Dawg Town.


Cal thinks "pink" and "Harley" shouldn't even be in the same sentence, but he sure isn't averse to the hot woman riding it. Their chemistry is right, and she's even a shifter -- like him. But there's a reason she's looking to change her scenery, and it has very little to do with her hamster wheel.







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.

Selene ran and ran. And ran and ran and ran. She seemed to be getting nowhere, but her surroundings insisted she was. Funny thing was, no matter how fast or how slow she ran, the scenery passed by at the same speed. What the fuck was going on?
She had awakened to this same scenery and began running out of fear. Now she'd been at it for what seemed like hours, and she was fucking tired!
She stopped, trying to catch her breath. The scenery rolled on.
This was insane.
"See? I told you she'd love it, John."
"It's a hamster, Susan. It'd run on that wheel no matter what was going on around it."
"Stop calling her 'it.' I've told you about that. She has feelings too, you know. Besides, I think she's in heat. This will take her mind off... you know." Susan whispered the last two sentences as if Selene couldn't hear.
"Give me a break."
John and Susan left the room, still arguing about whether or not Selene had awareness of herself. It probably had something to do with how much the screen surrounding her hamster cage cost, to say nothing of the program. Had Selene bothered to get off that damned wheel and look behind her, she'd have realized what was going on. She really loved the wheel, but when in her hamster form, she sometimes got a little carried away.
Though she'd had a marvelous cardio workout, and the run had indeed taken her mind off her need for sex, enough was enough. It was time to leave Susan and John, nice as they were, for someplace where people didn't buy thousand-dollar setups for hamsters to use to exercise. That was just insane.
There was a place she'd heard about, with a bar she'd always wanted to visit. She just hoped the hot pink Harley didn't stand out too much. She grinned. Then again, if everything she'd heard about the Prairie Dawg Bar were true, she hoped she did stand out. The town might be just what she needed. Sex with shifters, even if they weren't of her race, with no strings attached and no need to worry if they knew what she was. That way, if she accidentally shifted after her orgasm, as was typical for her, the poor guy wouldn't freak out. That had only happened once, and, thankfully, the guy had been drunk enough he'd thought it was a hallucination. Still, he'd never gone out with her again, and he looked at her funny every time he saw her. After that, she'd abstained, hoping she'd find another of her kind, but she hadn't.
Then she'd heard about Barkus, Kansas. The town was full of prairie dog shifters. She was a hamster shifter, but she'd heard they welcomed anyone. Well, it was time to find out.
It took very little maneuvering to undo her cage, and she was out. Out the doggie door and off the porch into the grass, Selene made her way across the yard to the neighbors. Thank goodness for people who still line-dried their clothes.
In the dusky dark of sunset, Selene shifted under a tree near the clothesline. If anyone saw her, they'd get an eyeful. When she shifted from her hamster form to her human form, she was butt naked. Grabbing the only item of adult clothing -- a flower print cotton dress -- she hastily donned it. It wasn't great for bike riding, but it was better than nothing at all.
Selene moved quickly through the yard and back to the street. In such a small town, she'd be easily noticed as a stranger if she were seen, but luckily, the streets practically rolled up after dark. No one was out and about, and most every house had no lights on. If she hurried, she might make it out to the interstate and be heading west before she was noticed.
A few minutes later, she reached the shed where she'd stowed her motorcycle a few months before. Unlocking the door, she let it swing open and gazed on the one thing she owned. She'd won the bike in Las Vegas a few months back and could barely ride it, but it was pretty. And pink. Blazoned proudly on the gas tank were the words "Hot Dawg." What was not to love?
She started up the bike and tried to take off. She popped the clutch a bit too soon, and the thing jumped and died. She tried again. Same result. Selene gritted her teeth. She'd managed to get her learner's license, but that required only a written exam. Actually getting her real license would require a bit more finesse and actual skill.
Giving it one more try, she finally got it going and started down the road, wobbly though she was. Once she was moving, it was easy. She was leaving this little town. On her way out, she didn't look back.
She was too afraid she'd wreck.
« Return to Dawg Town: Hot Dawg


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1187

Dawg Town: Prairie Rose by Carlanime Bligh

Dawg Town: Prairie Rose
by Carlanime Bligh

Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-250-0
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1184

Blurb:

Todd Hunter goes undercover to investigate just how a shipment of drugs went missing in the middle of nowheresville, Kansas. But the blonde biker chick is an irresistible temptation.


Rose Blacktail heard there was a new librarian in town, but she didn't plan to pick him up that night. Back at her house, she realizes two things: the moon is full and she's in heat. Getting laid is a challenge when you're about to go all cute, plump, and furry...





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.

Rose Blacktail and her sister Thistle didn't bring many guests home. She wasn't too sure why she'd made an exception tonight, except that the new guy in town had wandered into the Prairie Dawg looking completely lost. He was, she knew from town gossip, the new librarian.
Somehow, she'd never pictured librarians having unkempt black hair and intense green eyes, but this guy was definitely an improvement over the stereotype. And quite clearly he was crazy, or just completely lacking in survival skills, because a biker bar is not the kind of place you show up uninvited, not even in a town as small as Barkus, Kansas. And she should know -- she was a member of the Dawgs, born and bred, and had been on the back of a bike from the time she was a toddler. Hell, her whole family were bikers, and she knew all the reasons it was best to steer clear of strangers. In her book, a bad reputation and a tough attitude went a long way to ensure personal safety.
So when this guy had tossed back a few drinks, looking vulnerable, she'd understood just why her fellow Dawgs were eyeing each other and chuckling ominously. The boy was gonna get rolled, and he'd have only himself to blame when he woke up bruised by the side of the road somewhere and, if he was capable of learning, a little bit wiser. The Dawgs were as sweet as they come, but there was such a thing as pushing your luck, and Todd Hunter was in danger of finding that out the hard way.
But something about his unkempt hair and his inappropriate cheerfulness won her over. Every time she'd brought him a drink, he'd had a smile and some little joking remark -- not in an "obviously hitting on her way," but more like how someone new to town might try to figure out the people he'd landed with.
She'd caught him staring at Bucky's giveaway teeth with a puzzled frown, as if he knew something was odd but couldn't work out what, and that had made her laugh. And each time she'd brought a beer or a soda to his table, she'd been just that little bit more aware of how well his jeans fit and how taut those abs were. His shirt draped against his body, hugging it, and she couldn't blame it. Lucky shirt. When she caught herself thinking about slipping her hands underneath it, she decided to rescue him, and herself, by inviting him home for one last drink.
Before she knew what'd happened, she'd introduced herself, pointed out he was too damned drunk to drive back to town, and offered to let him crash at her place. It was a lie, and she knew it. He'd been pacing himself carefully, and he wasn't drunk at all -- even Sheriff Mike Winslow and Taylor MacKeller would have been hard-pressed to find an excuse to run him in, however they might feel about a newcomer. Still, Todd had jumped at the chance. No big surprise there; she knew he'd been checking her out. Rose smiled to herself, feeling a surge of satisfaction. Some days she just felt good in her skin.
He was hardly in the door before she'd backed him against the wall and moved in close, pressing against him. While he was still gasping for breath, she stood on tiptoe to rub noses with him. "Uh, sorry," she said when she realized what she was doing. Oops.
« Return to Dawg Town: Prairie Rose







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Dawg Town: Hustle by Anne Kane

Dawg Town: Hustle
by Anne Kane

Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-228-9
Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1183

Blurb:

Kaylee has no idea that she's a prairie dog shifter, or that the reason for all the male attention she's been attracting is her first heat cycle. When her boss fires her in a jealous fit of rage, she decides to go find some action at the local biker bar.


When the cute little dawg waltzes onto his turf, Logan isn't about to let any of his buddies get their paws on her. A game of pool turns into a sexy seduction as Logan introduces her to loving, Prairie Dawg style.




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.

Kaylee paused and stared at the prairie dog town that spread out endlessly across the flat terrain. Hundreds of the cute little critters popped their heads out of their burrows and started to whistle the minute she'd stepped out of her sporty little Miata in the parking lot of the Prairie Dawg Saloon. The full moon tonight must be affecting the furry little things.
She ran her fingers through her hair and pushed her way through the front doors of the saloon. The subdued roar of conversation she'd heard from the far end of the parking lot stopped as every male in the place turned to stare at her.
Great. She'd come here to blow off some steam. After a hellish day at work that culminated in that bitch of a boss firing her in a very public display of jealousy, she didn't need a whole room full of people staring at her. She glared at the two men closest, a couple of burly biker types she'd normally drool over, and they quickly looked away. She turned her head to glare at the room in general and felt a surge of satisfaction when the men shrugged and went back to whatever it was they were discussing.
Pleased with herself, she stalked over to the bar and hopped up onto a barstool. A nice cold bottle of beer would go a long way toward helping her mellow out. She spotted the bartender talking to a dark-haired man farther down the bar. He straightened up when she caught his eye and headed toward her.
"Evenin', ma'am. Name's Bucky." He studied her with open curiosity. "I don't recall seeing you around before, but you look mighty familiar."
Kaylee rolled her eyes. That had to be the lamest pickup line in the book, and she didn't dignify it with an answer. "Give me a cold beer. Please."
"Comin' right up." He gave her a bucktoothed grin and waddled off toward the cooler.
She eyed up his plump figure, struck by his amazing resemblance to the prairie dogs that lived in a huge warren of dens and burrows outside of town. The locals occasionally grumbled about the antics of the cute little rodents, but they were fiercely protective of them. "They may be a dang nuisance," Aunt Cee often said, "but they're our nuisances, and nobody's going to hurt a hair on any one of their plump little butts."
Well, cute as the prairie dogs were, a plump butt didn't send any shivers of excitement down her spine. She swiveled on the bar stool and surveyed the prospects. For a notorious biker hangout, the action looked tame. Sure, most of the guys sported at least some leather...
"Blake. It must've been Blake."
She turned back to the bar, frowning as she accepted the frosty bottle from Bucky. "What must have been Blake?"
"Sorry, sometimes I'm a bit hard to follow." He gave her an apologetic shrug. "Blake was a real nice guy, friend of just about everyone here. He came in one day, bragging about this girl in town, real looker. Said he was going straight, going to marry her. Got picked off by a damn eagle the very next morning." Bucky shook his head sadly. "Never did figure out who the girl was, but it must've been your mama. You're the spittin' image of him, and the scent is unmistakable."
Kaylee stared at the chubby bartender in alarm. She assumed an eagle would have to be a rival biker gang, but what the hell did he mean by "scent"? Surely, he didn't think she smelled like some guy he used to know! She picked up her beer and edged away from the bar. The last thing she needed today was another person flipping out.
A movement at the back of the bar caught her eye as a dark-haired biker sauntered across the well-worn dance floor. Snug fitting jeans showed off his tight butt as he leaned over an ancient jukebox and pushed a few buttons. An old country tune filled the air, and the man straightened, turning to face her.
Kaylee sucked in a deep breath as molten heat ignited deep inside her and she felt her pussy dampen. He caught her gaze, dark eyes smoldering with passion as he sauntered over to one of the well-worn tables and picked up a long-necked bottle, taking a deep swig. Tall and lean, he wore a tight tee shirt and a worn leather vest with those jeans. No plump butt on this one. Despite the sudden feeling that she was in way over her head, Kaylee found her herself drifting in the direction of the jukebox.







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Dawg Town: Bad Dawg by Lena Austin

Dawg Town: Bad Dawg
by Lena Austin

Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-229-6
Genre(s): Paranormal, Humor & Satire, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1182

Blurb:

One OTR trucker. One leather-clad biker. One very special town…

Finding himself stranded in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas, Loren comes face to face with his favorite fantasy. Hard to say which turns him on more, the ‘69 Shovelhead, or Bad Dawg -- the bronze god of a biker in the seat.

But can there be any future for men whose livelihoods pull them in opposite directions? And what’s with all the Prairie Dawgs all over the place?

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.

Loren stepped out of the truck stop bathroom and looked into the dusky shadows of the parking lot for the rigs park in the back. Shit. No shiny blue truck with the yellow logo of his company anywhere. He walked to the side of the building where the truckwash and diesel fueling station were, far away from the tourists' RVs.
Nothing.
One big yellow and orange truck was refueling, but it was still kind of early for the truckers who'd done their maximum eleven hours of driving to pull in for a rest. The only reason Loren and his trainer had stopped was because they'd run out of fuel. Roy, his trainer, tended to have a heavy hand on the gears.

Apparently Roy hadn't realized Loren wasn't still asleep in the berth, and had driven off. Loren sighed. He and Roy hadn't gotten along well, but they'd gritted their teeth through most of the required hours before Loren got his own truck from the company. Loren tried to give the grizzled, rude bastard the benefit of the doubt that the drive off hadn't been deliberate. Then again, could be Roy had finally figured out Loren was gay after he'd turned down another lot lizard the night before. Roy had certainly taken advantage of the whore's dubious charms in her RV. Right now, Loren hoped the sonovabitch's dick fell off from whatever diseases she'd carried.

Sighing, Loren pulled out his card with the 800 number to the company's trainee liaison and headed into the coffee shop. He knew he was in for a bad night at minimum. Roy wouldn't notice Loren was gone until he'd finished his eleven hours of drive time, and then he'd have to turn around and come back for his lost trainee.

A huge tricked out Harley sat covered in road dust in one of the parking places out front. If it wasn't a 1969 Shovelhead lovingly restored to all its glory and placed beneath chromed fat bob tanks and a custom frame, Loren would eat the damn thing's tires -- without sauce. Loren put his hands behind his back to fight the urge to caress the wide, comfortable seat and permitted himself to drool for a few minutes. He had some serious fantasies about big, bad, leather-clad bikers, and all unfulfilled. Shitpissfuck. Now he had a boner, and he wasn't sure if it was for the bike or the owner. Loren cursed himself and went inside, hoping another lot lizard wouldn't pounce on him as a potential client.

He waited until he had his coffee in hand before trying to find an isolated booth to make his call. After all, sometimes the company liaison left you on hold for half an hour, and never mind that a poor trainee had to listen to the minutes tick off his cell phone for that long.

The biker himself, clearly a rider who knew what he was doing, held the corner booth. His jacket had "Prairie Dawgs" stitched where the breast pocket would be. Weird name for a biker gang, but what Loren knew about bikers would fit in a teacup. The denim was filthy and worn in places that indicated he'd ridden long enough to have laid his bike down a time or two. Long chestnut hair in a braid fell over one shoulder. He was hunched over his coffee, so Loren couldn't see his face.

Loren breathed a huff of frustration at the lack of privacy and slumped into the next booth over, facing the biker. By God, if he had to linger over the phone, Loren intended to have a few fantasies to pass the time. He punched the speed dial. Pretty damn bad when you had your trainee liaison on speed dial. He didn't want a reputation as a wuss, but Roy had driven him nuts with personal questions and lesbian porn on the DVD in the back.

Then the biker looked up. His eyes were huge and brown, rimmed with lashes that would make any drag queen proud, and... holy shit... those peepers were kewpie doll sweet. No biker was supposed to be sweet!

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Dawg Town: Mad Dawg by Tuesday Richards

Dawg Town: Mad Dawg
by Tuesday Richards

Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-252-4
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Ménage, Shapeshifters
Series: Dawg Town
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1186

Blurb:

Bryce's bad day in Barkus, Kansas, starts when he dodges a prairie dog and lays down his most prized possession: Midnight. Can his day get any worse? Mad Dawg's about to find out.


Dolly Madison's car breaks down a mile outside of town. She walks into the closest building where opportunity knocks on the wooden bar.


What secrets does Barkus, Kansas, hold when the cute and cuddly are among the residents?







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.

"Couldn't have been a comfortable walk in those shoes." The country God spoke with a sensually deep voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I walked from the parking lot." Dolly snarled out the lie. She'd scuffed her favorite shoes. One heel was loose and would need to be repaired.
"The only reason a lady like you would walk into a joint like this is if you had car trouble and had to walk." He took a swig of his beer before he continued. "If you're here of your own accord, with a car parked out front, then you got more brass than anybody here."
Bucky sat another longneck in front of the man with heavenly blue eyes and short brown hair that begged to be touched. "Mad Dawg, leave the lady alone." He turned back to Dolly. "Don't worry about him. He's just upset 'cause his best girl was in an accident today." Bucky's attention was called away when six other men hit the bar bellowing drink orders.
"I'm sorry to hear about your… girl. She's in my thoughts."
"Thanks, Dolly," Mad Dawg muttered through his beer bottle.
Bucky was again front and center with a stressed crease in his forehead. "Man, I wish I could get decent help in this place."
The comment caught her attention. I couldn't be this lucky. "Bucky, I can help. I'm a trained bartender."
He seemed skeptical -- it could have been the raised eyebrow that gave it away. "No offense, Dolly dear, but what could you know about tendin' a biker bar?"
With a smirk, she unzipped her Vera Bradley purse, pulled out credentials, and slid them across the bar. "I'll admit, not much about biker bars. However, I am certified."
Bucky let out a slow whistle. "Good school. Prove it."
She slid off the wooden stool, stepped around the counter, put her purse in a cubby, and grabbed a bar towel. Dolly pushed an end of the folded cloth into her back pocket, thanking Liz Claiborne for the thick-heeled collection this year, and reached for a tumbler. "Did I hear a few of you call for a whiskey sour?" she yelled over the buzz of people. Three people raised their hands from the end of the bar. "Comin' right up."
Dolly grabbed three highball glasses from the rack and lined them up on the bar. She dropped some ice in the tumbler, and with a couple of flips of the whiskey bottle she did a nine-count pour into the steel cup. A flick of the wrist had the bottle back on the shelf and the sour mix in hand. Filling the tumbler the rest of the way, she slid the sour bottle down her arm into the well and at the same time put the top on the tumbler. With a few shakes and a flip, she poured the drinks, tossed the tumbler in the sink, and slid the glasses down the bar, where they stopped in front of the patrons who ordered them.
She heard six beer orders shouted. Dolly reached into the cooler, grabbed six longnecks, and flipped them one by one over her head, catching them one at a time and popping the cap off the bottle on the edge of the bar. She filled the orders one by one in a single line down the counter.
The bar fell silent with the last of the orders filled in record time. She cleaned her hands on the bar towel from her pocket, swiped the counter quickly, and washed the tumbler. Dolly walked by Bucky on her way from behind the bar and pushed his jaw closed.
With a gulp, he choked out, "You're hired. Get back behind this bar." He took one side of the bar, and she stayed close to Mad Dawg the sex God, serving the other half.
"Hot damn, there's a new sheriff in town, ladies. Hold on to your man," a blonde biker babe in the back shouted over the commotion.
Dolly looked at Mad Dawg. "Is that a good thing, or should I worry?"

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Dawgtown is Coming!

Can you hear the thunder? Can you feel the rumble? No, it's not an earthquake or a thunderstorm.

It's Dawgtown, coming VERY SOON to Changeling Press.

What secrets does Barkus, Kansas, hold when the cute and cuddly are among the residents?

Wait for it...