EXCERPT: Magik Ink: Dark Lotus by Fiona Jayde

Magik Ink: Dark Lotus
by Fiona Jayde
Cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-064-3
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure
Theme(s): Magic and Mayhem, Shunga
Series: Magik Ink
Length: Novella


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=978

BLURB:

He has been cold for nearly two centuries. A tattoo artist by day and an assassin by night, Kyoto Hajime must kill the ones chosen by Magik to keep the gift from twisting into something dark. Ensuring that monsters like his brother cannot consume the dark power they crave.
Jim’s ink will denote Magik’s choice. He must kill Tia Morse, the woman he had marked with the Dark Lotus -- a Vegas bartender whose touch gives him the warmth he has not felt in years.
Duty must come before desire. But years of discipline may crumble when passion’s fire burns through ice and Magik’s choices are no longer clear.

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.

***
He had learned to deal with the cold. The constant ice that rasped his veins kept reminding him he was nothing more than Magik’s soldier. Forged like a weapon; cold like the steel he used to take another’s life. Kyoto Hajime. Not altogether human, not immortal, he was just ice, hungry and sharp, kept alive by the same Magik he protected.
In the dark, high up above the masses, Jim stared at the glowing Vegas skyline. He watched the swarms of tourists and the ones who served them, the flares of light, hearing the clicks of heels, the drunken high-pitched laughter. While the times and fashion changed, he remained young, his body frozen, his heart ice. And if the humans on the street below knew the price of immortality, they’d thank whatever god they followed for keeping their lives short, and for the most part, meaningless.
Luxury meant nothing. If he could bother to turn on the lights, the soft glow would bathe over rich fabrics and satin sheets. The shiny coffee table would gleam in cherry reds, the lush patterns of the carpet would swirl their jeweled tones. And none of those opulent colors had ever helped him when the cold turned brutal, or when sleep, his only respite, wouldn’t come.
He’d chosen this place because the height of it suited his mood, just as he’d chosen this life because the cold suited his purpose.
He was a killer, a warrior assassin who took the lives of those who chose Dark Magik. He atoned for his weakness because he could not lift his sword to end his brother’s life.
He watched the city breathe below him, and found his thoughts returning to the woman he’d met earlier today. The one who came to Magik Ink both scared and determined to have him mark her body.
She had a glow of vulnerability around her, one she kept hidden under the protective layer of a tough girl -- a layer of makeup, and skintight jeans molding her ass. A broken wing hid somewhere below the war paint. She had demanded him specifically, and didn’t blink when she was told his price and that he chose his own artistic license.
Jim wondered what she would have done had she been told that the world famous steady hands were sure and swift due to hours with a sword. Kyoto Hajime, sought-after tattoo artist of intricate Nipponese designs, created art by day and killed in the hot Nevada night.
She’d bared her body despite the shyness he had glimpsed in those witch-hazel eyes. Those sweetly rounded curves were tempered with muscle, a discipline Jim understood. In Vegas, one lived through their beauty. And she was beautiful with that curved, firmly muscled body, her dark blonde hair bundled up into a messy bun, those green eyes challenging him, shyly asking him to look at her, to want her.
Had she been showgirl gorgeous and fully aware of the fact, he wouldn’t have given her a second thought. But this vulnerability so valiantly hidden under a mask of toughness captured his interest. Too bad he had no time for wounded angels, especially those who forced themselves to meet his gaze despite their shyness.
She’d chosen a lotus and surprised him. He pegged her wanting something flashy, perhaps a dragon since she appeared to be into Japanese motifs, perhaps a string of Kanji. Something ridiculous like “honor” or “the way” -- symbols often worn but rarely understood. But Tia Morse wanted a lotus, something to curve over her hip and buttocks, and she’d lain on the padded bench expecting him to mark her skin.
He had to force himself to keep his touch impersonal. With what Magik he had, Jim had lulled her to sleep and hadn’t waited around to see if she had liked his design on her. The power was already there, a small touch that had him recoiling. If Magik chose her, he’d have to kill her soon enough.
He thought of those bright eyes dulling with pain or darkening to black from abusing Magik. He thought of her lips bleeding once his brother fed on her power, a kiss of death, a long dull twist and pull of everything she had.
His heartbeat pounding, Jim reached behind him, feeling for the leather bindings of his sword. The hilt was warm against his palm, the only warmth he had been allowed to feel in a long while. The leather had been worn smooth and soft with age, the sword it cradled forged in the tradition of the Samurai. He didn’t have the mental strength to slice it through his brother’s neck, or the honor to end a life that had lost all but the greed for more. More Magik and more power. Simply more.
He pictured this same sword plunging inside the girl while Dark Magik pumped inside her veins. She’d choose it -- all the humans did. In past centuries he’d never met a human who didn’t use the gift in anger, in the need for revenge, or simply greed. Eventually she would twist Magik into something vile and open herself so Yoshida could feed.
The Dark could only feed upon itself. Because of weakness, he watched Yoshida turn innocents to darkness for the sole purpose of devouring their power. By torture or by promises, his brother sought out Magik’s chosen and twisted them until he could consume their gift into himself. The more he had, the more he craved it.
And still Jim could not lift his sword to kill his brother, even when Yoshida had prepared for that final blow to sever Jim’s head from his body. Jim had thought he would find peace at last.
The Lorekeepers thought otherwise.
The cold inside him let Jim live for centuries, killing the ones gifted with Magik so his brother would eventually starve. He would atone for his cowardice by killing innocents before they turned to the darkness -- before Yoshida could feed on that twisted Magik.
The irony was that Jim was the one to mark them. They’d seek him out, wanting a brand, an imprint. Tattoos were sacred in his world, marking the skin with truth, glowing with excess Magik.
And in the modern world where tattoos had become a fashion statement, he never knew if he would have to kill the ones he’d just marked.
Tiana. Tia Morse, with tough girl clothes and cautious eyes, too much mascara and a lush, full mouth. Perhaps if she weren’t chosen after all, he would allow himself a chance to see her once again, if only for the pleasure of it.
Vegas lights glittered on the sharp edge of his sword. Inside his mind, the Lorekeeper spoke in his birth language. She will be sacrificed.
Jim’s gut churned wildly at the thought.
The ink will speak. You must kill her before your brother does.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=978

Excerpt: Acacia 2: Blindsided by L Shannon

Acacia II: Blindsided
by L. Shannoncover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-952-1
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal
Theme(s): Vampires, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Acacia
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=980

BLURB:

Within the refuge of the moon Acacia, vampires have established peace and built a thriving empire based on control and logic. But emotion rules their hearts and lust defies logic through the long cool nights.
Dr. Blake, a high ranking member of Acacia’s Medical Division, is shocked to find blood donations to the vampire moon colony have been contaminated with an antigen that could wipe out their entire race. Who would contaminate the blood, with what and why? The answer may cost him his life -- and his one chance at true happiness.

EXCERPT:

Acacia II: Blindsided

L. Shannon

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 L. Shannon

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

****
“You don’t want to go in there, Med Blake, not yet.”
Blake paused beside his human slave, Dash. “Explain to me why I don’t wish to enter my own examination room.”
A flush spread up Dash’s thick tanned neck. The slave’s embarrassment was tempting to all of Blake’s baser instincts. Despite the pressing duties, Blake vividly imagined drawing in close enough to that flushed skin, close enough to smell the sweet blood and feel the heated flesh.
He jerked his mind away from the possibility he’d been denying for years. He should be processing the new arrivals from Rahla, not daydreaming about his best assistant. “Well?”
“Agent Aeron and his new consort are inside. They are… intimately occupied.”
“Indeed. Well, perhaps we can give them a few more minutes.” Blake turned away from his exam room and instead led the way to his office, tucked between his two private exam rooms. He might as well check over the files while he waited.
Dash, following in his wake, hesitated at the doorway. “Master?”
Hiding his grin at Dash’s discomfort, Blake flipped on the low grade lights and picked up the top file on his desk. “Relax, Dash. Observation is a most useful tool for any med specialist.” The large window in front of the room faced into exam room one, where the subjects of his files were demonstrating their healthy conditions.
Agent Aeron was performing quite vigorously considering his recent injuries. But oddly it was not the physical elements that drew his attention. Instead, it was the connection that the couple seemed to share. Blake glanced at the file. The couple had just met on Aeron’s last mission, and yet they appeared to be completely attuned to one another. Even while her thigh slid upward over his own, Agent Aeron’s hand caught her knee, tightening the leverage there. What at first seemed to be the simple act of copulation on closer inspection was more like a dance. “They are quite beautiful, are they not?”
Dash cleared his throat. “Perhaps they should have some privacy.”
Continuing to watch the couple together was not medically relevant. Why had he become caught up in the moment? He should remain objective, yet even his body was reacting to the desire to experience such an interaction. Which was ridiculous. There was no one in his life he felt that connected to, so it was a fool’s wish. Dash was right to redirect their attention. “You are far wiser than your young years.”
“No so young, Med Blake.”
He looked back at Dash, surprised to see his slave was right. The years had passed in a blur. Dash was no longer a boy, but had grown into a fully mature man. He’d seen the changes before, but never thought of Dash as anything more than the orphaned boy he’d claimed as a servant for his household. “Still young.” At least compared to his own three hundred and twelve years.
“What about the other one?” Dash looked toward the long window on the opposite wall.
“Doctor Kaven.” The man had never worked medicine among the vampires so he chose to keep his human title even though he was no longer one of them. “Come, we can see to him while our other patients are occupied.”
He returned to the hallway, but paused before entering the second exam room. “Dash, please retrieve blood for the doctor. I believe his most pressing condition will be malnourishment, which we can begin treating immediately.” Trusting Dash to do as he was asked, he continued into the room.
Dr. Kaven stood in the opposite corner. He might be attempting to appear relaxed, but his emaciated body was tight, bordering on animalistic, radiating paranoid fear.
Blake made no attempt to approach. Their kind, especially the young ones like Kaven, had little restraint when cornered. His patient had been starved, beaten and tortured. He wasn’t going to be the trusting sort.
Blake sat beside the exam table, more than eight feet from the patient. “Dr. Kaven, I’m very glad to have you back on Acacia.” He looked down at his file, giving the doctor time to relax. “In case no one has explained, you will be staying here at the import and arrival facility under my care until you feel well enough to return to an independent residence.”
“Can I leave now?”
“Yes, of course you may. But I was hoping you would be willing to stay here for the next full night at least. I’d like to be certain you are well, but if you’d prefer future exams to be done in your quarters, that can be arranged.”
Kaven gathered himself enough to step away from the wall. “My daughter came with me. Can I see her?”
“Yes, but she is with Agent Aeron at the moment. Perhaps while we wait we can do something to make you look more presentable to her. She must have been terribly worried by your current condition.” The door opened and Dash stepped into the room carrying a translucent blue silicone insulated cooler. The blood sacks were visible through the sides.
But Kaven’s gaze was locked on Dash, not the bags of blood. The hunger bursting forth on the patient’s face was almost painful in intensity.
Much as Kaven might want “fresh from the source” blood, he wouldn’t have enough restraint yet to feed without killing. “Thank you, Dash. You can wait in my office.”
As if the flare of Kaven’s nose wasn’t enough warning, the moment Dash turned his back, the vampire moved as if to pounce.
Blake’s instincts reacted before his mind had a chance to calculate all the factors. In less than a human heartbeat, he was between the patient and his slave. Fortunately, Dash had lived among the vampires all his life. The mistake of turning his back on an injured vamp was a rare one. And even now while safely outside the door, his heart rate only increased marginally, a sure sign of trust.
Kaven came to a sudden stop and then backed away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“Of course not. It is natural that your body will try to replenish what it is lacking.” Blake kept his voice calm, but Kaven’s condition was alarming. He was on the verge of going feral and yet had too little control to seek appropriate measures to correct the problem. “My servant brought fresh high quality blood to help you recover all the faster. Please, help yourself.”
“No, I won’t,” Kaven said while backing away from the cooler.
The reaction was not what Blake had expected. He flipped open the file again, but found no answers there. “Dr. Kaven, you need to feed. The blood will help you recover your strength, body mass and self-control.”
“Not bagged. I… they did something to the blood.”
“What do you mean? Explain. Do you believe this blood is contaminated in some way?” Was this just paranoia from Kaven’s mistreatment? Or was it possible that whatever they’d done to the blood had been done to the imported blood as well?
“The Reapers and their damn scientists. They did something to the blood. It tasted fine, but it made us all ill. Killed the others. The first batch of tainted blood made me sick. That’s when I started refusing blood. The others… they kept testing the new batches on the others and they all died. Violently. Horribly.”
“All this blood has been through our testing facility, but what you say is serious. We can look at it now to be sure.” He lifted one bag and poured it into a specimen jar. “Come, you’re a doctor. You can help me with this.”
Setting up a second examination scope and slide, Blake motioned to the chair beside him. Whether the doctor wished to help or not was up to him, but he set to studying the slide at once. Time crawled, passing in silence, but he found nothing. “The blood appears normal, rich and healthy.”
Kaven had looked some for himself and then taken to pacing the exam room. “Nothing?”
“Did you find anything unusual?”
Kaven shook his head. “No, but I haven’t much experience with blood poisons or pathogens. At least not with anything unusual. I didn’t know what to look for.”
Blake faced Kaven and laid out the truth. “I understand your concerns completely, but you will not be allowed to feed directly from a human when you are in such dire need as you are. It will not happen. Your only option is bagged blood.”
Kaven nodded, but fear laced his expression.
“I’ll test the blood myself in the most conclusive way possible.” He lifted the specimen jar and downed the contents in a long swallow. “Now we will both know if there are any ill effects.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=980

Black Planet: Dragon's Blood
by Belinda McBridecover art by Zuri
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-082-7
Genre(s): Futuristic, Action/Adventure, Sci-Fi, Cyber-Punk
Theme(s): Interracial
Series: Black Planet
Length: Novella
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=986

Blurb:
San Francisco, 2183 CESan Francisco was never the same after the Great Shake of ‘08. On the ruins of Fisherman’s Wharf, a ramshackle city rose like a mushroom, a strange dichotomy of safety and corruption. In this forbidden city, a monster prowls the corridors and alleys, seeking the nanite-enhanced flesh and blood of underground cage fighters.
Detective Annie Tanaka once survived an encounter with the monster. The attack left her clinging to life and riddled with fear. Now the monster has returned, and is hunting in her territory. She will need every weapon in her arsenal to face this enemy and prevail.
Unfortunately for Annie, her partner hates her and is next on the monster’s menu. And Annie’s mentor is a legendary fight master who hasn’t been seen in decades.
As she closes in on the creature, Annie Tanaka quickly discovers that her real enemy isn’t the monster, but her own fear. And against that fear, Annie must stand alone.
Note: The events in this story take place thirty years prior to Little Dragon.
EXCERPT:
She broke the kiss. “Wait…”

She pushed back, standing, and unbelted his robe, letting it fall away from his body. He was muscular but lean. It amazed her that this beautiful body of his took so much punishment. There was a small scar over his hip; that had come from a domestic disturbance call. The victim had suddenly turned on her rescuers, attacking Annie with a knife as she cuffed the woman’s drunken husband. Aiden had saved her life that night, intercepting the attack, getting cut himself.

She surveyed his body, seeing the small scars of youth and childhood, but nothing newer. Nothing recent to mark the ugly turn his life had taken. His cock rose long and dark from a thatch of black hair, his balls dropped heavily beneath the shaft. Annie carefully drew his legs apart and knelt between them, exquisitely aware of the supplicant posture she assumed.

Aiden’s body grew rigid, his dark eyes fairly blazed with heat. When she took his shaft in hand, he shivered.

“My God, Annie!” He jumped when her mouth slid over the head of his cock. Inwardly, Annie smiled. She was in the pose of submission, but held all the power at this moment.

He was big, bigger than she could comfortably take in, so Annie clasped his shaft, giving long, smooth strokes as she suckled and licked at the head of his cock. She tasted the salty tang of pre-come, smelled the musk of his arousal as he became more excited. Aiden slid forward in the hard wooden chair, giving her more access to his body.

Annie fondled his balls with her free hand, teasing up behind the delicate orbs, the tips of her fingers pressing his anus. He flinched, and gasped, and she pulled her head back, looking up at him.

“Is this okay?” The tip of her finger pressed in a tiny bit, playing with that tight circle of muscle. He nodded.

“Not too much though, just there…“ His words trailed off on a sigh as she pressed a moist finger to his back entrance, her mouth returning to his balls. Annie felt his muscles contract on her finger rhythmically, his balls began to grow tight to his body. Annie looked up, the expression on his face made her heart stand still. Lust and want, certainly, but a look of wonderment and love had settled over his face. Love for her.


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=986

Excerpt: Elven Enticement by Willa Okati

Elven Enticement
by Willa Okati

Cover art by Zuri
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-461-8
Genre(s): Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, BBW, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures
Series: Elven
Length: Novella
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=976

BLURB:
The Elves are back in town…
Alyssia's had it up to here with being a good Elven girl. She wants some action, some adventure, and something to do with her life except hang around in the eternally perfect, one-hundred-percent boring Underhill.
Besides, she's never fit in, and a lady wants to go where they appreciate her, right? Yep. Poking a hole between the Veil that separates world from world, Alyssia makes her escape -- and stumbles head-first into Interesting Times.
Devin and Cam have been through a rough patch lately, divisions and arguments threatening to end their relationship. They're still in love, though, and wish they could find a way to make things right with one another.
What they need is a little help. Possibly even Elven help. And lucky them, Alyssia knows she's just the one to lend a hand and make Devin and Cam fall in love all over again.
And, lucky for her, pretty soon Devin and Cam have ideas of their own about what to do with a pretty Elven maid, and they'd bet their love that she'll like them…

EXCERPT:

Elven EnticementWilla OkatiAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Willa Okati
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.
Alyssia poked at the tiny hole she’d unraveled between realities. They said I couldn’t find it. Ha! she exulted. Showed them, didn’t I?
Not that her quest had been an easy one, oh no. Not even Elven eyes could see the Veil unless, one, they knew exactly what they were looking for, and two, knew the taste of honeysuckle, thick on the tongue when you breathe in the stormy mist, that’d fill the air when an Elf drew close.
“It’s forbidden for proper Elven maids to go traipsing from one world to another,” she scoffed, plucking at the fraying strands of the divide between the Summerlands and the human world. Her wings fluttered in time with her speech, their bright butterfly patterns and delicate filaments sensitive enough to detect the slightest change in the wind. “Never mind that Elven men can do what they darn well please and waltz in and out all day long if they like. Pfft! Let anyone just try and stop me. I’m outta here.”
As best as she could tell, stepping through this twist in the Veil would spit her out -- where, again? Ca Nada? May Nee? Somewhere without many people. She was almost sure of it.
A good practice field for an Elven maid who planned on making this journey as many times as she could. A girl had to start somewhere, right? And anywhere was better than the Summerlands. By the Lady, eternal perfection got boring after a couple hundred years!
“Weather,” she muttered, busily unweaving threads of the Veil. “Real weather. Snow! Rain! Maybe I’ll even get sunburned. Wonder if I’ll freckle?” She blew back a wisp of fair blonde hair, stubborn in its refusal to curl -- ever -- like a proper Elven lady’s should -- or to grow any further than just beneath her pert shoulder blades, just above the top of her butterfly wings. At least no one could find fault with, or be picky about, her wings. They were as brightly colored as any Elven beauty’s, and just as hotcha-hotcha where the men were concerned. She’d heard some human men had a “thing for wings.” It’d be interesting to see if that was fantasy or fact.
What sucked more than the centuries of ennui in a land where nothing happened except perfection, perfection, and more stinking perfection? Being imperfect. Yeah. That one bit the big honker.
She’d heard that people were actually different on Earth. Tall, short, heavy, skinny, bald, too hairy; they had big feet and freckles and they smelled like something besides jasmine or roses.
By the Lord and Lady, Alyssia would kill to meet a guy who smelled male. Though she wasn’t sure exactly how that’d work out. Her best guess? Maybe a little like one of the horses.
In which case a dose of jasmine might not hurt.
“Almost through?” she queried the loosening threads, as if they could speak back to her. “I think so!” She poked her finger through the hole and when nothing bit it off -- she might have been a smidge worried -- slid her arm through up to the elbow and waggled it about. Up and down.
The Veil stirred, making a sound like rustling silk, rumpled as if in irritation, and parted almost -- almost --wide enough to let her whole body through.
Wow!
One more thread, Alyssia decided. One teensy-weensy tweak of just the right strand and then full speed ahead. But which cord needed to go? She wiped a smudge of dirt off her forehead -- an Elven maid who got dirty, go figure -- and stared at the invisible Veil. She could spend all day here trying to figure it out and maybe still get it wrong.
Alyssia shrugged, grabbed a handful of Veil and yanked hard. “Now or never, baby,” she said, eagerly seizing the torn edges and hurling through, wings unfurling wide to send her soaring. “Real world, here I come. Look out belooooooooooooooooow!”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=976

Spaceport: Scavenger by BJ McCall

Spaceport: Scavenger
by B.J. McCall

Cover art by Sahara Kelly
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-965-1
Genre(s): Futuristic, Action/Adventure, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Spaceport
Series: Spaceport Multi-Author
Length: Novella
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=975

Blurb:

Scavenging space junk isn’t glamorous or lucrative, but finding a disabled Allied Planets Security drone is an unexpected treasure Captain Anexa Loy can’t pass up. Although pinching the drone is illegal and outrunning an APS Patrol fighter is dangerous, Anexa needs the money.
The booty on board, Anexa returns to Spaceport Adana where she meets Davis, a sexy hunk too charming to ignore. Giving into temptation can be risky business.
Lt. Davis Darkano of APS Patrol falls hard for the Spaceport beauty, but when he discovers the woman of his dreams has the stolen drone Davis must decide between love and duty.
EXCERPT:
Spaceport: ScavengerB.J. McCallAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 B.J. McCall
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
“Claws on target.”
Seated at the bridge, Captain Anexa Loy watched the action on the cargo bay monitors as the huge claws of the retracting arms clamped down on the twisted chunk of metal. To most space trekkers it was junk, but to a scavenger the hunk of floating debris was credits in the bank. Her crewman, Souzai, was working the claws and keeping Anexa informed of his progress. Souzai’s sister, Ulina, was poised to close the huge bay doors the moment the junk was retrieved.
“Arms retracting,” Souzai reported.
Excited by the find and already calculating the worth of the metals, Anexa asked, “What is it?”
“Looks like an APS drone or what’s left of one,” Souzai said.
Allied Planets Security had hundreds of identical drones patrolling AP controlled space. Anexa adjusted the camera controls, focusing closer on the mangled mass. A blast had taken out a good portion of the side, exposing the drone’s interior.
The smugglers and pirates were getting bolder. With the AP Security expanding its patrols, business was suffering. Unauthorized scavenging included. Grabbing a drone and busting it down for parts and metals was risky, but so far Anexa’s forays into the AP restricted zones had paid off. If she was caught scavenging without a permit, the Scavenger Guild would fine her ass.
If she was caught grabbing a drone the APS would toss her ass in jail, but times were lean and Adana creditors were downright mean. At least the APS couldn’t accuse her of blasting the drone. The Karang Guni had never carried that kind of firepower.
Moving slowly, the huge arms pulled the drone toward the empty cargo bay. Bringing the twisted hunk of metal into the ship’s bay required skill and precision. Her finances were tight enough without expensive repairs. “Careful, Souzai.”
“Millimeters to spare, Captain.”
As the nose of the damaged drone entered the bay, Anexa thought about all the overdue bills the haul would pay. She might have enough left over to afford a few necessities like spare parts.
Anexa lived aboard the Guni and sold her junk on Spaceport Adana. The rusting structure supported a growing population unable to survive on the hostile environment of the planet it orbited and for which it was named. Although the ship was aging, the Guni was home and collecting space junk wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest work, most of the time.
The monotone voice of the ship’s computer sliced into Anexa’s joyful anticipation. Unidentified craft. Range two hundred.
Chui! Anexa tore her gaze from the bay monitor, swiveled in her captain’s chair to the primary sky screen. Moving fast, the tiny speck of light was bearing down on her position. “Interception?”
Nine standard minutes.
“Identification?”
Working.
Anexa glanced at the bay monitor, mentally fighting a quick battle. Bring the drone in and risk interception or release it and run. Given her desperate financial situation and low supplies, breaking down the drone into scrap was worth the risk. “Souzai. We’ve got company, coming at us fast. Can we do this like now?”
“Aye, Captain.”
Eight standard minutes.
Anexa’s heart pounded as the seconds ticked off. Her gaze darted back to the screen.
Craft identified. Allied Planets Security Patrol fighter.
The fighters were armed to the teeth and the pilots were the AP Security hotshots. “Souzai. APS Patrol fighter. He’s coming fast. We’ve gotta move. Now!”
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=975

Coyote's Woman
by Ann Vremontcover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-059-9
Genre(s): Paranormal, Horror
Theme(s): Werewolves, Shunga
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=979

Lucy Suther is a bartered woman who hates the sight of dust rising up on the road into the Double Nought Ranch. It accompanied her on her bound arrival and bore silent witness to her marriage to a smuggler of flesh and drugs. Now her husband is two months missing and hoped dead, she’s trapped on the remote ranch, and the coyote that killed off her chickens is growing bolder. So, when a sexy stranger claiming to be her brother-in-law drives in on a cloud of dust, she has to wonder -- will trusting him earn her a way off the Double Nought or an express ride to a moonlit grave?

EXCERPT:
Coyote’s WomanAnn VremontAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Ann Vremont
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.
In the three years I’ve lived on the Double Nought Ranch, I’ve never welcomed the sight of dust rising up on the dirt road. Drugged and tied in the back of a truck, choking on dirt for twenty miles, dust was my first impression of the place and I knew then things would only get worse.
As Deacon Esrial prophesied upon leaving me with my new husband, I arrived in dust and I would leave as dust.
My new husband, Theo Suther, was not one of the saved. Neither, according to Deacon Esrial, was I. At twenty-one, I had not taken a husband from among the deacons of the Last Testament Church, though several had taken me. My screaming and kicking and the bruises and broken bones that accompanied my protests were bad for morale among the other young women. I was an apostate. I had been blessed with the Word and I rejected it.
For that reason, I was outcast from the Kingdom of the Last Testament. But Deacon Esrial didn’t believe in being wasteful. So he traded me to Theo for a little bit of Jesus -- a gallon Ziploc of ecstasy -- and left in a cloud of dust.
What did I do for three years on a ranch on the Arizona/Mexico border halfway between Nogales and Naco with no other living soul in sight, no identity and no family that would take me in even if they could find me in the first place? What did I do in a borderland already littered with the bodies of dead, unwilling women? I survived. I laid the fuck still because the beatings I got for being a dead log when Theo fucked me weren’t nearly as life threatening as the ones he gave me when I fought back.
I waited for the day the gun was nearby and his back was turned.
Not only was Theo hyper-vigilant about hiding his keys or placing his gun, but he also had a preternatural sense of danger. The weeks and months turned into years. I escaped a couple of times early on -- caught once by a dirty border agent who ran drugs with Theo. The other times, I only made it into the surrounding desert and earned myself a case of heat stroke.
Things started to change six months ago. Theo became erratic -- leaving in the middle of the night, running into the desert with his gun and keys but without bolting me down in the shed. Two months ago, he seemed to completely break down, running in a wild rage through the house before he flew out the front door and into the night, taking only his keys and cell phone with him. So now I had a shotgun, plenty of shells, a house and shed stocked for the apocalypse and a car with no keys.
Oh, yeah, and dust rising up on the horizon with no time to run for one of the covered pits surrounding the house.
Shielding my eyes against the sun, I spotted a beat up Chevy truck -- probably white but showing beige as it rumbled over the dirt road. I stepped onto the patio with the shotgun cradled in my arm. The truck stopped in front of the house with a kick of dirt and gravel. The man who got out was a head taller than the top of his pick-up cab -- probably the tallest man I’d seen in real life. He had on jeans, hiking boots and a dirty white t-shirt. Tanned skin showed where the tight clothes didn’t cover him and sunglasses masked his eyes.
Let me say it right now -- I’m not dead, just badly damaged. There had been boys my own age within the confines of the Kingdom. My body had responded like any girl’s would. I even made out a few times until we were discovered and punished -- the boy deemed lost and expelled from the compound. I, on the other hand, had been beaten and scoured, re-baptized in an effort to save me. At least the deacons called it a baptism. The TV news shows piped in via Theo’s satellite called it waterboarding.
So, yeah… not dead, just damaged. My awareness of the stranger’s good looks -- the hard, muscled body, chiseled jaw and firm lips, the aura of mystery and sensuality the sunglasses added -- was more than peripheral. But my knowledge that there were no white knights outside of Hollywood was complete. Anyone setting foot on Double Nought was a danger to me until proven otherwise, and I kept the shotgun aimed in the stranger’s general direction as he approached.
Running my hand over the cold steel barrel, I adopted my best tough bitch pose and gestured at the Chevy. “Haul your ass back to the truck and move on, Mister.”
He smiled at that and kept on walking, pushing the shades up as he stepped onto the front patio. Five feet from the end of the barrel, he stopped and hooked his thumbs into the front pocket of his jeans. “Theo home?”
With the sunglasses up, I could see that his irises were a Bisbee blue, the same color as the turquoise they pulled out of the ground around here, and laced with black and a hint of danger as he stared at me. His hair was black, too, and kept long enough to curl around his neck. A pale white scar, stark against the deep tan, ran along his left cheek, starting just below the dark fringe of eyelashes and cutting down to the square jaw. Straight white teeth and the devil’s grin.
They’d warned us about men like this in the Kingdom -- good-looking, easy-going -- in short, everything the deacons weren’t. It wasn’t the deacons’ warnings that worried me, but the network of black that spread through the irises. I’d seen that same veined pattern along the irises before, with Theo’s coppery gaze and in some old pictures boxed out in the shed, the name on the back scratched out. Whoever this man was, those eyes told me he was a blood relative to Theo.
I took a step back and raised the shotgun. “Push off!”
There was no fear in this one. He stepped closer, straight up to me until the barrel of the shotgun was pressed against his flesh. “You must be Theo’s, what, wife? Girlfriend? I’m Shane -- his brother.”
I tightened my grip on the shotgun, worried that he’d try to take it from me, as close as he was now. “I don’t give a fuck who you are. Theo’s not here, and you’re not welcome.”
Shane shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “I’ll wait.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=979

Excerpt: The Agency-- Bear's Den by Michelle Hasker

Agency: Bear's Den
by Michelle Haskercover art by Karen Fox

ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-741-1

Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure

Theme(s): Shapeshifters

Series: Agency

Length: Novella


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=960

Blurb:
Richard’s had his best agents on this case from the start, but after one too many mistakes he’s not going to trust this final mission to anyone else. His ex-lover is his one hope to fix the trouble his agents have caused and capture the head of the drug cartel once and for all. Unfortunately, Sydney’s not the same woman he once knew and loved.
Sydney blew her last chance with Richard because of her fears and insecurities. She’s learned from her mistakes, and even if Richard never forgives her, she’ll do her damnedest to win him back, and prove she’s all the woman he needs, or die trying.
EXCERPT:
The Agency 4: Bear’s DenMichelle HaskerAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Michelle Hasker
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Richard studied the all white exterior of the house and wondered why Erik Hardaway had a fascination with the color. Or lack of color.
Sydney had convinced him that Erik was only guilty of ignorance in this case, but it didn’t mean he had to trust the man. A woman could be swayed by a handsome face. Especially one she’d been sleeping with for the past year.
Too much depended on this. It had taken years to get this close to shutting down the operation, and nothing -- not even personal feelings -- would keep him from putting the mastermind behind bars. He would retire with every case satisfactorily solved, and move as far from the luscious Sydney as he could.
The door opened before he could press the doorbell a second time. He pasted a smile on his face and waited for the person to step out of the shadows and greet him. The man who did was as immaculately dressed as Jess and Chase had warned him Erik would be, but the look on his face was not what he’d expected. Instead of a pleasure loving man concerned with his appearance and entertainment, he was a man who looked haunted by demons both internal and external. Richard could relate to that well.
“You look even fiercer than Sydney described.”
Richard gave a harsh laugh. That made two of them. Before he could make a comment, Erik pulled the door open wider and stepped to the side. “I’ve sent some of my staff on vacation while we sort out this mess. The attempts on my life are one thing, but I’ve already lost enough staff members I actually care about. I’m not even sure if I can trust my kitchen help anymore.”
“You’re worth more to them alive than dead.” Richard looked around the foyer. The bright white, enormous and expensive decorations were everything Chase had promised, and then some. And Erik was exactly as Jess described.
They stood almost the same height, except Erik was about an inch taller. Richard stiffened his spine and stared into the man’s blue eyes. As he studied the man’s tanned skin and blond hair, he understood why Jess had referred to Erik as a beach bum. Was Erik Sydney’s type? Why did he care?
A growl built in his throat. He tried to disguise it by clearing his throat, but knew his host wouldn’t be fooled for too long if he didn’t keep his animal urges under control.
“Sydney’s been busy preparing for your arrival.”
“I’m sure she has been. Are all the deadly weapons locked up so she can’t kill me?”
“She doesn’t want to kill you.” Erik’s genuine smile dimmed even more of Richard’s hope that Sydney hadn’t fallen under the man’s spell. With his perfect appearance, manners and money, no other man would be able to compete with him for a woman’s affections. Not even his weird quirk for white would scare off the ladies.
“I believe I know her better than you.” Richard smirked and adjusted his tie. Being polite to the man bedding his ex was more trying than he’d anticipated. Hadn’t he gotten over these feelings years ago?
“I don’t think so.” Erik shook his head. “You may have been intimate with her, but what Sydney and I share goes beyond that.”
Richard clenched his fists so tight they shook at his sides from the effort to keep his hands off his host. He had a job to do here. Whether he liked Erik or not, the man was actually innocent of any wrongdoing. That he was a pervert who hosted kinky parties wasn’t in question, but no one had ever been hurt, and no complaints had ever been lodged against him.
“Down, boy.” Erik flashed him another toothy grin. The urge to break some of those pearly whites was almost overwhelming. “I’m not trying to one up you or anything, but I’ve spent months with Sydney, and I know her inside and out. I know her better than you ever thought you did.”
Richard growled. “Shut up while you’re still breathing.”
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=960

Excerpt: Spaceport- Paralyzer by Marteeka Karland

Spaceport: Paralyzer
by Marteeka Karlandcover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-999-6
Genre(s): Futuristic, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Magic and Mayhem, Spaceport
Series: Spaceport Multi-Author
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=970

Blurb:
Starla, a Paralyzer Mage of the Vastus, has been assigned to be bodyguard to, of all people, a rock star. After an attempt on Tygor Gold's life, she finds herself on Spaceport Adana as, in her mind, a glorified babysitter. What she doesn't realize is she is but a pawn in the greater scheme of things.
Tygor has his own magic and reasons for not joining the Vastus as a Mage. When his magic and Starla's collide, the results are more than even the Vastus could have predicted. Driven by something more than magic, more than chemistry, the two must find a way to exist together…
And to survive.
Excerpt:
Spaceport: ParalyzerMarteeka KarlandAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Marteeka Karland
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.
As she rounded the perimeter of The Haze, the bar on Spaceport Adana the band had played for the last three days, Starla had to push her way through the undulating, screaming crowd. The noise beat into her brain, and bodies pressed against her. For a moment, she lost sight of both Tygor and her next checkpoint.
Making her way through the crowd as she set watchful spells proved more difficult than she’d originally thought, but she made steady progress forward. Once she reached the bar, she ignored the bartender and hopped up to sit on the end of the bar, craning her neck to see around the crowd, looking for possible threats. Why in the damned universe this man chose to put himself out in the open if he was so worried about his own safety was beyond her.
Hiring a woman to protect him? It was an image Starla found hard to buy. He was a man who always seemed to be in control. She shrugged. Oh, well. Who was she to complain? Tygor was the hottest man she’d ever seen. Sometimes she had to shake herself to keep from staring. Sometimes, she almost reached out and touched him.
She sighed as her thoughts turned inward, trying to escape the noise. The mind spells she’d set throughout the crowd would alert her if anything were amiss. This was a mentally exhausting mission and once she confronted Tygor Gold and forced him out of the limelight, things would get worse. She didn’t have any choice. Keeping up with the group’s exhaustive schedule for even two weeks had weakened her mentally and physically, though it galled her to admit it. She needed sleep. She needed to get Darkest Knight off the stage and away from places like Spaceport Adana.
As she contemplated exactly how to accomplish this, her thoughts were interrupted when one of her spells exploded in the crowd, forcing everyone away from the stage. Immediately, Starla jumped to her feet on the bar and launched herself in the general direction of the stage. Her heart was pounding, but her training took over, and she blocked out everything but what her spells and her own senses fed her. Her eyes were firmly fixed on Tygor. Her top priority was to get him out of danger.
She hadn’t yet determined where the threat originated from, but her other spells spoke directly to her mind, being her eyes and ears in all directions.
There. Behind one of the speakers.
Sniper.
That he’d made it so far into the bar alarmed Starla greatly, but she’d have to think about that later. He was aiming at Tygor, using the singer’s confusion to his advantage.
Starla focused on getting to Tygor and taking him down. It was imperative she give the gunman another target. She was confident enough in her own magical shields to make herself that target.
Tygor looked all around him, his stance ready for battle. She vaguely registered this as she hit him in the midsection with her shoulder, effectively taking his place in the sniper’s line of fire.
There was a quiet little zing zing as the porcelain projectiles launched from the gun, and Starla felt like someone had thumped her in the shoulder and back with a mining rod. She lost all feeling in her right arm, rendering her gun hand useless. Whipping her head around, she caught sight of the assailant. Their gazes locked. Got you.
The gunman’s eyes widened a fraction before the full effect of her power struck him. His gun fell from his spasming hands before he went completely and utterly still.
Letting the full effect of her spell take hold of the would-be killer for about thirty seconds, Starla knew the terror she had spawned in the man. She was a Paralyzer. A rare and unique talent even among the Vastus. She could stun her prey for a few seconds, or render them completely immobile. She had control of every muscle in their bodies -- voluntary and involuntary muscles alike. This time, she’d paralyzed the man’s respiratory system, but not his heart. She had never stopped someone’s heart, and hoped she never had to use her gift to such extremes. But when she wanted to make an impression on her prey and show them exactly what she was capable of, this was the best way.
Struggling to her feet, she stumbled to the man, never taking her gaze from him. “You aren’t going to die today. Not yet, anyway. I only want you to understand what I can do. If left in your present state, you would expire. Slow and painful though it would be.” She gave him an evil smile, as if she’d enjoy watching just that. “I have the ability to stop your heart, but I would prefer to bring you to the authorities unharmed. You should know, however, that if you give me any grief whatsoever, I have no qualms about simply killing you and being done with it.” She released her hold on him, allowing the now red-faced man to breathe. “Do we understand each other?”
He collapsed on the floor, nodding twice, breathing hard. Satisfied, Starla motioned to two rapidly approaching security officers to take the man away. She turned back to Tygor, her body starting to feel the effects of the gunshots.
When she did, she slammed into a massive, hard chest and cringed at the pain the jarring caused her.
“Your instructions were not to go after my assailant under any circumstances. Can you not follow even the simplest of orders?” He didn’t sound like a man who was grateful she’d just saved his life.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=970

Excerpt: Hot River-- Sixty-Nine Sadie by Kate Hill

Hot River: Sixty-nine Sadie
by Kate Hillcover art by Reneé George

ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-045-2

Genre(s): Paranormal

Theme(s): Werewolves, BBW

Series: Hot River

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=972

Blurb:

Now that Hugo, the nasty werewolf from Triple Shot Tracy, has been imprisoned, all is well at the magic campground -- unless, of course, you’re the wolf himself.
Hugo has been living under a curse. Considering his reputation, it seems to be well deserved. Only a certain type of woman can release him and he has spent ages looking for her. It seems his chance for freedom is over, until Sadie arrives with the power to set him free in every way.
But will his disposition, not to mention his archenemy, Charity the Werewolf Queen, ruin his final chance at happiness?
Excerpt:

Hot River 2: Sixty-Nine SadieKate HillAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Kate Hill
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
The werewolf growled and paced the length of his cell. His blue eyes gleamed against the black fur covering his face. He was a fascinating creature. Standing on two legs, like a man, he had clawed hands and feet and a face that shared the characteristics of man and wolf -- an elongated nose and a mouth filled with sharp white teeth. His long, sleekly muscled, unclothed body was covered in a coarse black animal coat. Yet to Sadie, who stood watching him from a safe distance, he was beautiful.
In the magical world, Sadie was an expert on shapeshifters. Recently she had been contacted by the Princeton family who specialized in supernatural beast control along the area of Hot River outside the Wicked Wild. Hot River ran through the heart of the magical world, cleansing it and providing life. Sadie had spent years on its banks and prided herself in knowing the habits of just about every race of shapeshifter who lived along it.
In spite of this wolf’s particularly dangerous nature, the Princeton brothers had decided not to kill him. They needed her expertise to either cure him or keep him contained. She’d spent the past five years in the Wicked Wild, the best place to study werewolves. No doubt if anyone could help the Princetons with their fanged, hairy problem, Sadie was the one to do it.
The werewolf stopped pacing and grasped the bars of the cell. He stared at her, his growls softening, and ran his tongue over his dark lips. Sadie’s stomach tightened. She longed to move closer, to touch him, feel the hard muscles rippling beneath his animal coat, but at the moment he was far too dangerous. No doubt in his current state he would tear anyone who approached to shreds. She needed time to work with him, to help him harness his power and temper it.
Behind her, she heard the scuffle of boots on the stone floor in the dungeon where the beast was caged. She had almost forgotten the Princeton triplets -- Tripp, Oakes and Jeb -- stood behind her.
“Can you help him?” Oakes asked.
Sadie drew a deep breath and released it slowly, then turned and faced the identical blue-eyed, black-haired triplets. They were great hunters of primitive supernatural beasts, but when it came to rehabilitation of higher creatures, such as shapeshifters, they were sorely lacking in skills. Yet their concern for this werewolf seemed genuine.
“Possibly,” she said. “His kind can be difficult to deal with, but I haven’t seen one this cranky in years. Other than the female pack in the Wicked Wild, of course, but they have much more control over their powers. Still that’s not surprising. Females handle the curse much better than males.”
The triplets exchanged glances and Jeb said, “Maybe the females are so ornery because he’s responsible for the state they’re in.”
Sadie’s eyes widened and she jerked her thumb in the direction of the cage. “This is Hugo?”
“You know him?” Tripp asked.
“Who doesn’t?” she snorted. “He has the worst reputation in the werewolf community. This changes everything.” She turned back to the cage, her heart pounding with the excitement of a good challenge.
“Changes what?” Tripp demanded. “Does that mean you won’t help us?”
“On the contrary, it has sealed the deal. I want him. If I can help one like him, that means my training has been worthwhile. I’ll have to move him to my place.”


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=972

Excerpt: Too Fine for Pine by Isabella Jordan

Big, Blooming & Wild! Two Fine for Pine
by Isabella Jordancover art by Bryan Keller

ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-904-0

Genre(s): Paranormal, Sci-Fi

Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage, Shapeshifters, BBW, Big, Blooming, & Wild!

Series: Big, Blooming & Wild! Multi-Author

Length: Novella


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=961

Big, Blooming & Wild! Two Fine for PineIsabella JordanAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2008 Isabella Jordan
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
“You know what I think of this place?” Vanessa Arnault glanced around at the endless acres of trees and rich countryside of Cana, Virginia, and smiled.
“That your father should have punished you by giving you a French vineyard instead?” Brenda stood just behind her with her arms folded across her chest looking bored out of her mind.
Vanessa knew how her friend felt. When her father had announced his latest and most devious plan to force her to grow up, she’d considered being sent to Cana a fate worse than death too. They were out in the middle of nowhere. No clubs, primitive shopping at best out here in the sticks. There was nothing for miles but cows, farms, more cows, and people of all types who stared at her wherever she went and not in a good way.
“I know things seem bleak now,” Vanessa began. “But I’ll tell you something, Brenda. I’m going to take Daddy up on his challenge.”
Brenda’s expression went from bored to incredulous. “You’re going to become a farmer?”
“No.” Vanessa laughed. “He wants me to grow up and learn about the real world, right? He gave me this land and six months to figure out what to do with it to turn a profit. I’m going to prove to him I can do it.”
“He threatened to take away your credit cards again, huh?”
“Oh, shut up!” Brenda had been her best friend since they were two and knew her father nearly as well as she did. Her friend knew how the drill went. “Maybe he did. But what if, for once, I proved myself?”
Brenda’s burst of laughter didn’t surprise her. It did piss her off.
“If you were going to prove yourself to your father, Vanessa, why couldn’t you have done it last year when he sent you to his store on Rodeo Drive? You had the perfect opportunity to break into the fashion industry right there.”
“You mean working for the evil troll who manages that store?” Vanessa asked. “The only thing I learned from her is what happens when there’s no respect for basic human rights.”
“She fired you for boinking that French guy -- what was his name? -- in one of the dressing rooms,” Brenda reminded her.
“Oh yeah.” Vanessa smiled at that naughty little memory. “His name was Etienne. And she would have fired me anyway because she was a troll.”
“And you don’t like to do any real work,” Brenda pointed out.
“That was harsh, Brenda. I can do real work. I’m going to do a lot of real work right here in this place.”
“I still wish you could have found ambition last year on Rodeo Drive.” Brenda shook her head. “What the hell are we going to do out here? Develop a line of designer Christmas trees?”
“I thought of that.” And she had. “But then I had this brilliant idea at the spa.”
Brenda’s dark eyes met hers. “I’m afraid to ask.”
Walking over to one of two incredibly tall trees next to them, Vanessa knocked on its solid trunk, careful to do so gently because its bark was rough. The last thing she needed to do was crack one of her airbrushed nails until she could figure out if there was a spa in hillbilly hell.
“Look. This is a huge, gorgeous oak tree.”
“I’m impressed you knew it was oak,” Brenda told her.
Vanessa reached into her Prada tote and pulled out the Nature for Dumbbells book she’d bought before she’d caught her flight out of New York.
“There are a ton of trees here, all quality wood that can be made into something that can turn a profit.”
“You’re going to make furniture?” Brenda asked.
“Even better.” Her friend would love her idea since she was a pet lover too. “We’re going to make designer pet homes.”
“Pet homes?” Brenda’s pretty smile lifted her spirits.
“Vanessa’s Precious Pet Palaces.” She held her arms out for effect. “What do you think?”
“Love it!”
“The first one is going to be for Pierre, my baby poodle,” Vanessa explained. “A perfect, miniature Taj Mahal. There are all kinds of crafty people who live here who can make anything out of wood.”
Brenda had caught onto her excitement, her black eyes gleaming. “My kitty? Tinkles? What about her?”
“Hmm, how about a miniature Buckingham Palace?”
“Make it Chateau Gaillard and you’ve got a deal.”
“Wonderful choice.” The two trees she stood before drew her attention. Oak trees and they looked remarkably similar. Well, you don’t see that every day. They appeared to be the biggest and best two oak trees as far as the eye could see. They’d be perfect to use for the first two pet homes for Pierre and Tinkles.
“What are you doing?” Brenda asked as Vanessa pulled a can of red spray paint out of her purse.
“Marking these two trees. They’re the best I’ve seen. We’ll use them to make our first two precious palaces.”
“Since when do you carry spray paint? You’re going to start a graffiti business too?”
Vanessa drew a huge red X on the trunk of each tree, doing a good job in her opinion.
“No, my book said I’d need some way to mark the trees I wanted for specific purposes.” Vanessa shrugged, tossing the can back into her bag. “Let’s head back to the house.”
At least they had a decent place to stay. The house was nearly a hundred years old and it offered a wonderful view of most of her new property even if it was lacking in basic necessities. Vanessa would love it even more once the hot tub arrived and she had it installed. The closets would need to be expanded and all the old-fashioned décor would have to go. Then there was the satellite dish, high-speed Internet, a home gym…
Once she’d made some modifications and found a decent chef willing to come out to the sticks, living there just might be tolerable.


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=961

Excerpt: Gray Man by KZ Snow

BLURB:
Emma Moore’s vacation along the lower New England seaboard had everything to do with bolstering her flagging relationship and nothing to do with finding ghosts. But when an eerie entry written in archaic script shows up in her diary, she suspects it might be related to the shadowy figure suddenly clinging to her boyfriend’s back.
A shockingly orgasmic ride on a theme-park roller coaster and the mystifying utterances of a psychic stranger only strengthen Emma’s suspicion that something, or some$one, is going bump—and hump—in the night. Getting to the bottom of this disturbing yet compelling phenomenon seems her only recourse.
Leaving her lawyer-boyfriend behind in Boston to pursue his work and possibly an affair, Emma returns to the historic Connecticut inn where the intensely passionate Gray Man first appeared. What she discovers and experiences there bring her the most wrenching sadness and exhilarating hope she’s ever known…and the realization that there are no bounds in time and space any more than there are in the ocean that lies beyond her window.

* * * * *

EXCERPT, PG-13:

Emma spun around. Alan, his face peppered with a sandy growth of whiskers, was sitting up in bed, watching her. He ran both hands over his head and stretched backward. Emma’s shock gave way to curiosity. She squinted, peered at him. There was something—
He frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Why indeed. Was his body casting a shadow against the headboard? Emma’s gaze shifted to the windows and followed the course of the incoming light. Yes, it was possible. But… “I, uh, was just wondering how you’d look with a beard and mustache.”
Alan’s right hand immediately went to the lower half of his face and rubbed it. “Don’t even go there,” he said.
“Alan, did you happen to get up in the middle of the night and go into the sitting room?”
He gave her a puzzled look. “No. Why would I do that?” Sliding to the edge of the bed, he yawned, scratched the middle of his chest and got up. “I slept like a log last night.” He shuffled toward the bathroom.
Emma’s mouth fell open as she followed his progress. The shadow that was behind him in bed was still behind him, hovering at his back like some gauzy gray kite he was toting over his shoulder. It had a vaguely human form, but taller than Alan’s. Taller and unsettled, like a swath of fog.
What the hell? Staring at the closed door, Emma was tempted to enter the bathroom and watch Alan as he shaved and showered. But no, she couldn’t do that. He was very adamant about maintaining “the privacy of the toilette.” She simply had to put this morning’s peculiar start out of her mind and concentrate on getting ready to leave.
“Damn, that’s right,” she muttered, remembering they were going to Six Flags today. She would much rather have continued along the Connecticut shore, but she’d already committed to the change of plan.
Emma gathered their things. She knew that when Alan emerged from the bathroom, he’d head straight for his wireless notebook. That damned computer was his best friend. While she bathed and dressed, he’d first check his email, then he’d look up driving directions, park hours and attractions, any and every little bit of information he could glean before they left Saybrook. He was like that. Fussy, meticulous.
Emma would have preferred a superheated, slippery fuck in the shower and a leisurely, meandering stroll or drive. But neither was going to happen.
Well, maybe the damned park will be closed today, she thought, hoping beyond hope.
Standing over her suitcase, Emma paused. She hesitantly lifted the diary out of its pocket and, with trembling fingers, turned to last night’s entry.
Yes.
The word was still there.
* * * * *
HOT EXCERPT:
As the coaster’s train smoothly shot forward, she felt something startling and inexplicable—the gentle probing of fingers between her legs. They soon glided along the lining of her labia. She knew within seconds this wasn’t a seam rubbing against her. With a sharp intake of breath, Emma tried not to fidget in the seat. She glanced at Alan. Both his hands were firmly wrapped around the safety bar. Besides, she was wearing panties and jeans. But, somehow, this touch was inside her clothing.
The gliding continued, soon becoming a firm, directed pressure that closed in ever-tightening circles around her clit. Emma began to make tiny mewling sounds. It didn’t matter. Surely nobody could hear her. The train had begun its agonizing crawl up the two hundred foot hill. In the low, near distance, a river glimmered.
Emma felt lips and tongue join the fingers that teased her. On each beat of the slow, ratcheting clicka-clacka from beneath the coaster’s rails, a finger probed her vagina, a tongue flicked over her clit. Clicka-clacka…on each mechanical tick, soft lips plucked at her sensitized bud. Emma’s body jerked delicately as her eyelids fluttered and closed. A delicious, mounting tension seized her body—a tension both matched and underscored by the coaster’s ascent up the steep, steep rise. Her pussy seemed to clench around the stimulation it was getting, touches that were ever more persuasive, then insistent. The moist caress of lips and tongue. The precise pressure of roving fingers.
Clicka-clacka-clicka-clacka…

Excerpt: Invisible Love by Amanda Steiger

Invisible Love
by Amanda Steiger
Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-061-2

Excerpt #1

Gregory floated above New York City. He stared through the patchy clouds, at the tiny skyscrapers and high rises below. At night, the city glowed with a thousand points of light, like a mirror image of the starry sky. Cars crawled through the maze of streets like ants through tunnels. How faraway, how unimportant everything seemed from this distance.
Wind howled around him. A few fat snowflakes spiraled down from the sky. Gregory felt no cold. He had felt nothing for hundreds of years. He wondered—for the thousandth, the millionth time—if he would ever escape this empty, gray half-life, or if he was doomed to wander the Earth as a spirit for all eternity, unseen, unheard. Alone.
He drifted down toward the city, like a feather on the wind. His feet touched the ground. He walked down the sidewalk. People hurried past, talking loudly, cell-phones glued to their ears.
It was that time of year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, when the whole of America seemed caught in a frenzy of commerce. People clutched brightly colored shopping bags filled with toys and the latest electronic gadgets. Store windows glowed with warm light. Signs boasted low, low prices to entice consumers. Passers-by walked through Gregory’s dim, translucent form as though passing through a cloud of smoke. Their thoughts and memories swirled through his mind, like leaves on the wind. He took no notice. The thoughts of the living were dull and repetitive, centered around the details of their hectic careers and their confused love lives.
He stopped outside an apartment building and looked up.
On the third floor, a window glowed with lamp-light. He stared at the window, wondering why it held his attention. He felt a peculiar tug in the core of his being. Something drew him toward that square of warm, yellow light. He floated off the ground, hovered outside the window, and peered in.
A young woman sat upright in bed, legs tucked beneath her, an open book in her lap. Long, wavy hair spilled over her slim, pale shoulders, hair so dark a brown it was almost black. It shone with a soft luster in the lamplight as she twined a lock around two fingers. Her full lips were parted, relaxed, as her eyes moved over the lines on the page. She wore only a sleeveless, white cotton nightshirt and a pair of white panties.
Gregory stared. An ache of longing pierced his soul, so deep and sharp it was almost pain. How long had it been since he had touched a woman?

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=967

Excerpt: Discovering Passion by Selena Illyria

Discovering Passion
by Selena Illyria
Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-049-0
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Interracial, Vampires
Series: Vampiropolis
Length: Novella
Blurb:

Lida Sandros is tired of the dating scene. She wants to settle down, stay at home, have someone to cuddle with. She's tired of the hamster wheel of love, that is until her ex-fiancé comes to town and brings up old feelings of the past. It doesn't help that he may not be back for her but the artifact that she was given.
Xavier Hideo has always regretted hurting Lida. But he walked away due to the danger his chosen profession brings him. When his profession and only love collide he starts to realize that what he wants in life no longer jives with what he needs. He needs Lida and wants to settle down, walk away from chasing after ghosts of the past. But can he convince her that he has changed?


Buy Link:
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=965

Excerpt:

He turned his attention to the cars before him, dropped her arm and continued trying to remember where he parked. After ten minutes of silence she finally spoke up.
"So, you're lost huh?"
"I am not lost," he gritted out.
"We've passed by this Aston Martin five times, so unless you have a hard-on for the car, we're lost."
He whirled around to face her, "We're not lost. Just give me a minute to find the car."
"Bullshit! Either you really like the Aston Martin or you're in love with the hot pink Beetle parked next to it or we're lost. Which is it?"
Xavier watched Lida cross her arms, her breasts lifting up to show off more cleavage and for a second, time stilled as he just stared at the pale white mounds exposed to his view. A need to uncover them and taste her skin surged up inside of him. He licked his lips, remembering the taste of her pink nipples. He blinked and in that time she moved before him, waving her hand in front of his face.
"A, my eyes are up here. B, you wanna see the vanilla mounds of goodness, you better take me to dinner first. And C, there is no way in hell that we aren't lost."
Annoyance rose up inside of him to quell his arousal, for now.
"We are not lost and I have no desire to see your so-called 'vanilla mounds of goodness.' What are you, ten?" He knew he was lying but refused to admit to it. Whirling away from her he spotted his car and started toward it but didn't miss her muttering, "Well, I could have said, wanna see my pussy but you weren't staring at my crotch now, were you?"

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=965

Excerpt: Melanie Unmasked by Michele Bardsley

Melanie Unmasked

Madam Periwinkle’s Erotic Delights

Michele Bardsley

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 Michele Bardsley

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.

*****

“Pick me up a latte, will you?”
Melanie Trident stopped tapping numbers into the computer and looked at her stepsister, the luscious Venus Montgomery, head honcho of Viva Venus, the West Coast’s premiere spa. And in California, where spas were as numerous as Paris Hilton’s sex tapes, being booked six months in advance was no small feat.
Venus was the spa’s best advertisement. She leaned casually against the desk, looking thin, blonde, and gorgeous. Venus and Melanie were the same height, 5’ 5”, and yet Venus always looked taller. Her sis never had a bad hair day. Her body had no flaws -- no fat, no scars, no pimples.
Melanie had all the above. Her curly hair could never be tamed, her eyes were the color of dirt, and -- due to a childhood accident -- she had a scar that curled from the top of her right cheek to her eye. She fought the war on acne every day, and nearly always lost.
“Hel-lo, Mel?”
“Are your other minions busy?”
Venus rolled her eyes. “How long have you been in this office?”
“All morning.”
“And for the last two days, you’ve been stuffed back here, cave dweller.”
“Quarterly reports are a bitch.”
“So am I. I need a latte and you need some sunshine.”
Melanie sighed. Venus was genuinely nice, which made it really damned hard to hate her beauty and golden-touch success. She was Melanie’s only family, even though the unfortunate marriage between her father and Venus’s mother lasted a mere three years. Her father’s death had left Melanie in financial hell. The bank took Dad’s house, the finance company reclaimed his battered Ford truck, and the credit card company stuck Melanie with the $10,563 her father had spent. She really should’ve known better than to open that account and give her Dad an “emergency” credit card. Richard Trident had deemed everything an emergency.
Venus offered her a job as the spa’s accountant despite the fact Melanie had been unable to finish her degree. The salary was overly generous -- Venus had given her the help she so desperately needed without making her a charity case.
“You haven’t gone out with me in a while,” said Venus. Her rosebud lips dipped into a pout. “How about attending the opening of Club Mirage this weekend?”
“I’d rather fall into a pit of spikes.”
“It’ll be fun. It’s sorta like a modern version of a masked ball. You get to dress in something shiny and you get to wear a sexy mask. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“Not as fun as dying slowly on a sharp piece of metal,” said Melanie. “Of course, if I sorta aim when I jump into the pit, one spike could pierce my heart.” She pressed her hands against her chest and widened her gaze. “Gaaaaaaaah.”
“Way to be melodramatic.” Venus leaned forward and handed Melanie her platinum credit card. “I’m pulling out the boss card and pummeling you with it. I hereby order you to take my credit card and slack off. Go shopping. Buy something outrageous and useless. Do not come back here until tomorrow.”
“I still have a lot of work to do,” said Melanie.
“I don’t care. Take the card and go away.”

Demons R Us by Alice Gaines

Vicky Burke has to get her soon-to-be ex-husband and his girlfriend out of her house before someone discovers he's using the mansion to make porn movies. When a mysterious book of spells drops into her lap, she decides to summon a demon to evict the whole bunch of them. Imagine her surprise when two, not one, emissaries arrive from hell. Imagine her delight when Asmodai and Ilbris inform her that they don't want her soul in exchange for their help. They want her body.



Chapter Two

Ilbris took her hand and helped her up. They walked to Asmodai, and she stood between them, craning her neck to gaze up at one and then the other. “You two don’t mind sharing?”
“I’m teaching him how to fuck, too,” Asmodai said.
“Hey, no one’s better than me in the sack,” Ilbris said.
Asmodai raised an eyebrow in the most regal put-down imaginable. “You need more than a huge tool, dipshit. There’s such a thing as technique.”
Ohmigod. Two gorgeous males -- one with an enormous cock and the other with expertise. Her knees got weak. She hadn’t had any sugar for months. She’d even left her vibrator at the house when she’d left for London and hadn’t gotten another one. Her pussy dampened in anticipation. If she’d known conjuring would get her stud service, she would have bought the grimoire ages ago.
“I have technique,” Ilbris said.
“Only what I’ve taught you.”
“I made the last woman come three times,” Ilbris said.
Asmodai reached over her and thumped his finger into Ilbris’ chest. “Only because I ate her pussy first.”
“Hey, old man.” Ilbris pushed his hand away. “She said no one had ever shtupped her like I did.”
“She was being nice.”
Ilbris leaned toward his coworker. “Nice had nothing to do with it.”
Asmodai took a step toward him, making Vicky the stuffing of a demon sandwich. “She took pity on you, pea brain.”
“Boys, boys.” She rested a hand on each chest and held them apart. “I can settle the argument for you if you want.”
Asmodai looked down at her as if he’d forgotten she was there. “You?”
“You want to decide who’s best at satisfying a woman,” she said. “I’m a woman.”
She listened to the words coming out of her own mouth, and her heart thudded in her chest. She’d offered herself as a judge in a fucking competition. Two hunks vying to see who could give her the most orgasms. Hot damn.
Ilbris turned her around and bent to claim her mouth for a kiss. Electricity seemed to arc between them at the contact. She gasped at the shock and leaned toward him for more. A pleasant scent of smoke curled through her mind. As if he’d started a fire inside her and would fan it until she went up in flames. She very well might. While their lips explored each other, hands came around her from behind. Strong fingers went over her breasts and squeezed while teeth nibbled gently at her earlobe.
Asmodai roared softly into her ear and then circled the tip of his tongue around the edge.
Damn, she’d never had anyone do that to her ear before. It gave new meaning to the word erotic. Ear-otic. Whatever. It sure felt good.
While Ilbris parted her lips with his own and ran his tongue over the bottom, his hands went to her blouse and worked at the buttons. Agile buggers, his fingers opened one after another until he got to the bottom. Asmodai took over there, pulling the sleeves down her arms while he nibbled along her neck to her shoulder.
Hands went everywhere over her body. Someone unfastened her bra and pulled it off while someone else unzipped her slacks. She ought to know who was doing what, but the fever in her brain blurred everything but the tingling of her nipples and the throbbing between her legs.
Someone knelt before her. Ilbris, right. He slid her slacks to her ankles and helped her kick out of them. Asmodai’s fingers covered her breasts again and this time toyed with the nipples. Slowly teasing them into hard points. Every nerve registered his touch as he circled over them, and again and again, while she rested back against his chest.
Now, Ilbris parted her legs and placed his mouth over her mound, blowing hot air on it. His tongue came out and flicked over her slit.
That shouldn’t be possible. No one had a tongue that long. But, who in hell cared? As long as he didn’t stop.
A tongue fluttered at the base of her throat, too. Rough. Scaly, even.
She opened her eyes. “Hey, you guys?”
“Hmm?” Asmodai murmured into her ear.
“You’re tongues. Are they… uh… normal?”
“Shhh,” he whispered.
“I mean it.” She pushed Ilbris away from her and stared down at him. He smiled and flicked his tongue at her.
“Yikes.” It was forked, like a snake’s, and it moved lightning quick. “You didn’t look like that before.”
Asmodai shushed her again, but this time it sounded more like a hiss. The two of them definitely had their reptilian sides, but that didn’t bother her body one little bit. What woman wouldn’t enjoy a long, forked tongue that could move as quickly as a humming bird’s wing? So, when the man behind her pulled her toward the bed, she went without resistance. He lowered her onto the mattress and pulled off her panties. Smiling, he lifted the silky material to his face and breathed deeply. “Oh, yes. I’ve missed this.”
“My turn,” Ilbris said. “I haven’t eaten pussy for months.”
“Watch the master and take notes.” Asmodai eased her thighs apart and covered her sex with his mouth. He stroked the lips. Back to front, front to back. Over and over, just grazing her clit on each pass. The rough texture of his tongue contrasted with the light pressure against her flesh to create a perfect storm of sensation. Every nerve ending went into high gear as her entire world collapsed into the space between her legs.
She turned her head and glanced toward Ilbris. He’d concentrated his attention on watching his teacher, but his hand rested on his crotch, rubbing and squeezing his cock through the leather of his pants. When he noticed her staring at him, he dropped his arm and thrust his hips forward, showing her the dimensions of his erection.
What an erection it was. Stiff and thick, it stretched from the base of his torso almost to his waist.
“Want to see it?” he asked.
Speechless, she nodded.
He snapped his fingers, and his clothing disappeared. Poof. Gone. Now, his tool stood straight out from his body. Beautiful and enormous.
He gripped the shaft in his fist and pumped. “Hurry up, pal. I’m getting hot.”
Asmodai made a noise of disapproval, and the expulsion of his breath vibrated against her nether lips. She melted against the bed, staring at Ilbris stroking his hard-on while Asmodai gave her fellatio better than anything she’d had in her most erotic dreams. Now, the tips of his tongue zipped over her clit. Fast but gently enough to build her arousal with maddening speed.
“Oh,” she sighed. “Oh my, ohmy, ohmy.”
“Want something to suck on?” Ilbris asked. He stood next to the bed now, bringing his tool near her face. It had turned near crimson with arousal, and the vein along the underside seemed to throb.
She reached for it, and he climbed onto his knees next to her. Now, she could wrap her fingers around the base and guide the head into her mouth.
He sucked in a breath. “Shit, you’re good. I’m gonna come.”
Asmodai removed his mouth from her muff but continued teasing her clit with his thumb and finger. “Hold off, man. You know it’s better if you make it last.”
“Yeah.” Ilbris thrust his hips, pushing more of his cock into her mouth. “But, damn, you wouldn’t believe how her lips feel.”
“I’ll find out later. Do this right, asshole.”
She swallowed as much of the cock as she could, using her hand to stimulate the rest. Asmodai went back to work at her pussy.
Now, he lapped at her outer lips and sucked on one and then the other. They swelled, parting for him. His tongue probed into her pussy. Almost as good as a cock. Her heart thundered, the blood pounding in her ears. She’d climax in a minute, better than she ever had before.


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=964