Down and Dirty: Wild Card by Moira Rogers

Title: Wild Card
Series: Down & Dirty

Genre/Line: Futuristic, Werewolves, BDSM

Author: Moira Rogers
Author URL: http://www.moirarogers.com
Release Date or Available Now: November 14th

Publisher: Changeling Press

Publisher URL: http://www.changelingpress.com/

BUY LINK: http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1013

Content Warning: Contains graphic sex which may offend some readers.

* * * *

Blurb:

As alpha of the Lonely River Pack, Jack Owens is responsible for keeping the peace between what’s left of the human population and the wolves who have taken over since the War. All wolves are his responsibility, even the ones who don’t necessarily recognize his authority, like Virginia Howard. Ginny’s been a thorn in Jack’s side since she took over her parents’ operation and established herself as one of the area’s premier ranchers. The fact that she’s everything he wants in a mate makes it hard to stay away from her… but any good hunter knows how to bide his time.
Ginny fights hard to maintain her independence from men, human and werewolf alike. When a group of angry wolves, determined to see her submit, threaten her operation, she’s forced to accept Jack’s assistance. But in saving her ranch, Ginny runs the risk of losing something far greater -- her heart.

Excerpt:

Ginny began to ache as Jack stared down at her, talking about orgasms and looking at her like she was a juicy plum he was about to bite into. “And I can’t move my hands?”
“No.” The corner of his mouth ticked up as his palm came to rest on the curve of her hip. “Though maybe I shouldn’t be trusting you to listen. I saw how well that went last night.”
“Last night? Your punishments weren’t very discouraging.” Her skin heated at the memories. “If anything, you were forcing me to behave badly.”
He shrugged and reached up to tease around her nipple with a barely-there touch. “What can I say? I love a woman who behaves badly.”
“I must be a dream, then,” she murmured, smiling as she trembled.
His fingers caught her nipple without warning, pinching it as his other hand dipped between her thighs to rub once against her clit.
Ginny cried out and shot halfway into a sitting position. After a few heartbeats, she shuddered and relaxed, dropping her hands back to the table above her head. “Sorry.”
“Mmm, sure you are.” He dropped a hand to the table above her head and pinned her hands down, his grin widening. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just begging to get spanked again.”
“I am begging,” she whispered, twisting under him. The gentle ache sharpened until she almost hurt. “Jack…”
His fingers slipped over her clit again before sliding lower. He eased one inside and groaned, his eyes never leaving her face. “You’re so wet. Tell me what you want, Ginny. Say it.”
“I want you to fuck me with your fingers.” Her whole body tensed, and she fought the urge to free her hands and grab him. “I want you to watch me come.”
Jack groaned again, then leaned down and claimed her mouth. His tongue plunged past her lips, hot and every bit as demanding as the finger stroking inside her. Ginny forgot everything but the fire burning inside her, and the fact that the man above her could ease the ache, make her scream. She tried to raise her arms, but his grip on her wrists was unyielding.
He lifted his head and watched her face as he eased a second finger into her. “Wiggle all you want, darling. You’re not going anywhere.”
Her heels dug into the backs of his thighs, and she panted. “If you let me go, I could touch you.” God, she wanted to touch him.
“You want to get free?” His thumb swept up before she could answer, narrowing in on her clit as he worked her body with an intimate knowledge which should have taken months to learn. His fingers slicked in and out of her at the perfect angle for several moments, then froze. His smile turned arrogant. “No getting loose until you come, Ginny. And no coming until you beg.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1013

Black Star United

Black Star United
by Marteeka Karland


cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-679-7
Genre(s): Futuristic, Sci-Fi
Series: Black Star
Length: Novella





http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1000

Blurb:

The Black Star is free, and Nani, the woman who made up the essence of the ship, is determined to unite her family. But retrieving her captive daughter will not only be dangerous -- it could turn deadly.
Darian, her lover and himself a prisoner, is her rock in a sea of chaos. But as more and more trusted friends are revealed as complicit in their long-ago betrayal, it begins to seem that they can trust no one but each other.
The events of twenty years past that condemned them both to a living hell have inextricably bound everyone they hold dear. Now, their goal is to unite both the Vok'nair Empire and the Asalian Coalition. Impossible?
Not when everyone involved is United.

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.

Nani floated somewhere between consciousness and oblivion in a void almost overwhelming in its threatening finality. She’d prefer death to this existence. If the transplantation didn’t go successfully, that was exactly what she’d get. She tried not to think about it as the seconds ticked by.
Minutes.
Hours.
It was maddening. She was bereft of any sensation except consciousness and time. Both of which she could do without. Panic was a very real emotion, one she wasn’t used to. She tried her best to stave it off, but not knowing anything, after the more than twenty years she’d known practically everything, was the hardest thing she’d faced since her baby daughter had been taken from her immediately after she’d given birth. She could look death in the face and smile, but she didn’t like him sneaking up on her.
And that wasn’t it. Her daughter, Nadira, had been taken by a fanatically religious sect called the Hand of God. She hated them with every fiber of her being. They were responsible for far more than Nadira’s kidnapping and the injustices to her two friends. Rage threatened to consume Nani. She felt alone. So alone.
I am with you, my love. I always will be.
Immediately, her mind eased. Darian was her best friend. Her lover. The one person in the entire universe who knew what she’d been through and what she felt. What she feared. Nadira was his daughter, too. He’d insisted they put Nani back into her body first, not because he was scared he’d die during the process and wanted to hold on to life a little longer, but because he, too, preferred death to the void they both had to endure. He loved her enough, knew her well enough, to know she couldn’t take this nonexistence much longer. It had been a long, unbearable process for both of them.
How the process had been explained to them and the hope they both shared at the prospect of finally being able to express their love physically again tantalized them. Hell. A simple touch of his hand on her cheek would be pleasurable beyond words.
Communication was hard for her. He’d always seemed to be the stronger of the two of them telepathically. She was merely an empath, but he’d taught her how to reach for him, to hear him when he spoke. When they’d found each other so many years later, their consciousnesses trapped inside their respective ships, she’d learned to make him hear her thoughts, as well.
She reflected on their time since their reunion. They’d done nothing but talk, catch up on their lost time. And cry. Both in joy and sorrow. They’d missed out on so much, both with each other and, more importantly, their daughter. Nadira had grown into a beautiful, talented woman and had married a man who loved her more than anything. At least they’d been able to help bring them together. Now, if everything went well, she and Darian would secure their own future.
That thought had just crossed her mind when she felt like she’d been kicked in the chest. Or that was what it would have felt like if she’d actually had a chest. The pain vanished as quickly as it had come, and Nani thought she might have imagined it. But it happened again. This time, she thought someone had hit her in the chest with a repulser weapon of some kind. She just knew she’d have broken ribs.
Except she didn’t have a chest. Or ribs. Or a body for that matter. Rather, she hadn’t.
The blackness brightened slowly until the next kick to her chest and everything came suddenly, painfully, clear and bright. She tried to scream, but all she could do was take in a deep breath. The pain was so intense she couldn’t make a sound.
The light stabbed into her eyes like shards of hot metal, and her head felt like it might split. Her chest felt like every rib was cracked into tiny pieces, and her skin tingled and burned like a million needles sticking her from head to toe. When she was finally able to scream, her ears rang with the sudden explosion of sound.
“Easy, my lady. We’ve got you.” The voice was male. Authoritative. For a brief moment, she had the fleeting hope that maybe Darian had beat her to this other world, but no. The voice belonged to the doctor aboard the Black Star, Mahat Zabin. He was a kind, capable man and one Nani admired greatly, but not the man she wanted to see at the moment.
She tried to relax and let Dr. Zabin do his work, but she was anxious and scared. She had to see Darian. Needed to assure herself he would be all right.
“I’m fine,” she croaked. “See to Darian.”
“We haven’t started the process on him, my lady,” Zabin informed her. “I’ll get to work on him personally after a few hours’ sleep. It’s a very long, tedious process, and one I can’t afford to do as tired as I am.” He stopped his work with the monitors and leads attached to her body and looked her straight in the eye. “Do you understand I’m not prolonging his hell needlessly?”
Nani was surprised the doctor understood so completely. She could see the anguish in his face, the need for her to understand his reasoning.
“I do.” She smiled and watched some of the tension drain from his face. “You’re a good man, and a miraculous doctor. You do your job. I’d never presume to question your judgment.”
“You will rest now, my lady. As much as it pains me to rob you of your consciousness, the neuro connections and blood vessels I created and repaired need time to heal. When you wake, Darian should be through the process and sleeping as well.”
“One thing,” she said. Her throat hurt, dry from the medication that had kept her body asleep during the transplant. “My daughter.”
“No word that I’m aware of.” Zabin was matter-of-fact in his answer. “The captain and Mikiel are working relentlessly to find her. I’m sure he’ll update you after you’ve rested.” Unless Nani was greatly mistaken, that was an order. She’d be resting whether she wanted to or not. After so long giving orders -- whether others liked it or not -- this was going to take some getting used to.
“As you wish.” Nani needed to believe his words. She wasn’t afraid of death, but it would be cruel of him to take her when she finally had a chance to face the one person in the universe, other than Darian, she truly cared about.
Dr. Zabin pressed a few buttons and tapped a few keys above her head, and her vision narrowed into blackness.
Sleep well, my love. We will be together and bring our family together soon.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1000

Sexation By Alice Gaines

Sexation
by Alice Gaines


cover art by Sahara Kelly
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-089-6
Genre(s): Humor and Satire, Sci-Fi, BDSM
Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Shapeshifters
Length: Novella





http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1005

Blurb:

What do you do when you find a little, green man in the backyard arguing with the garden gnome? If you’re Carly Osborn, you invite him inside. Only, this little green man -- It the Twenty-third -- has come to Earth for a sex vacation. Carly and her husband, Randall, haven’t been doing so well in the bedroom lately, and It is just what their marriage needs. When It’s sexation comes to an end, will the three friends have to part forever? Or, will they find a way to continue their threesome?

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.
What were you supposed to do when you found a little, green man in your backyard yelling at the lawn gnome? Carly Osborn did the only logical thing. She closed her eyes, shook her head, and slapped herself a couple of times. That ought to dislodge the cobwebs. Imagination or no, when she opened her eyes again, the small creature hadn’t disappeared. If anything, he’d puffed himself up in what looked like outrage and shouted at the porcelain ornament in a high-pitched language she’d never heard before. Lordy.
She took a few steps toward whatever he was, but not too close, and cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”
The man turned. If indeed she could call him a man. He seemed to have green and silver scales rather than skin and not much more than nostrils where his nose should be. One of his feathered brows rose over close-set eyes with crimson irises.
“Are you the proprietor?” he asked in perfect English. Accented, but easily understood.
“My husband and I own this house.”
“You should discipline this servant.” He pointed toward the gnome. “He’s very rude.”
“It dissed you?”
“I’ve been talking to it for five of your time units,” he said.
“Minutes.”
“Yes, minutes. And he hasn’t given me the courtesy of a reply.”
“It can’t. It’s not alive.”
The creature put its not-nose into the gnome’s face. “It looks human.”
“Really. It’s porcelain. Touch it.”
“I can do better than that.” The man raised a green fist and let it fly into the gnome’s chin. Immediately, he pulled his hand back and yelped in pain. The gnome teetered and then fell over onto the grass where it rolled for a second before settling.
“I told you,” Carly said.
He humphed with human-like disgust and reached under the silver scales. They were clothing, not skin. After a bit, he pulled out some glossy paper and held it out toward her. He tapped the front. “I want to find this address.”
She peered at it and finally recognized the paper as a magazine. “Hey, how did you get my copy of Femme Kink?”
His red eyes got wide with excitement. “This is you?”
“Carly Osborn. Yes.”
He did a little jig, hopping from one foot to the other in what looked like joy. “My navigation was better than I could have dreamed.”
“You didn’t answer my question. How did you get that?”
“The probe sampled the contents of your message receptacle.”
“The mailbox,” she said.
“Mailbox,” he repeated, as if storing the word for future use.
“You stole our mail,” she said. “That’s a federal offense.”
He cocked his head and stared at her as if the words got in but the meaning didn’t register.
Oh, hell, she wasn’t going to call the FBI and report an extraterrestrial mail thief. But she owed the customer service woman at the power company an apology for screaming at her about the missing bill. Not to mention the mail order outfit.
Hey, wait a minute. “You got my bras, you little pervert.”
The man ogled her breasts and gave her a grin full of tiny, sharp teeth. “And your textbook, Professor Osborn.”
“I’m not a professor. What textbook?”
He held up Femme Kink and leered at her.
“I didn’t write that,” she said.
He tapped the front with a scaly finger. “It has your name on the cover.”
“It’s a mailing label.”
“Don’t be modest, professor. I’m here to learn.” The grin got wider and more evil. In a minute, he’d be slobbering.
“Hey, now. Hang on. You don’t think…” She pointed at the magazine. “That I wrote… and that I’m going to… with you.”
“Take me to your vibrator.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1005

Renato's Dragon By Selena Illyria

Renato’s Dragon
by Selena Illyria

cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-070-4
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Interracial, Vampires, Shapeshifters
Series: Vampiropolis
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=991
Renato's Dragon, Book 3 of the Vampiropolis Series, Coming to Changeling Press Nov 7th.
Blurb:
She left him…
Renato's world shattered when his fiancée Magda disappeared. He buried himself in family, work and meaningless flings. Nothing filled the void in his life, and he could never forget the only woman he's ever loved.
She's back…
Magda was given a choice: her brother or her love. In order to find her lost brother, she had to give up Renato. She made a choice, one she has always regretted. She could never forget the man she left behind.
Now she's been ordered to kill him. Their lives are about to collide, secrets are about to be exposed, and danger waits in the shadows.
Will they survive when the dust settles?

Buy Link:
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=991
Unedited Excerpt:
When his gaze fell upon the shore, he sucked in a breath, Magda lay on the beach. Her caramel body seemed to glimmer in the sunlight. Her head was tilted back as she elevated herself on her elbows, tawny tipped breasts thrust upward toward the sun. Her legs were spread apart slightly. He yearned to see the slick petals of her pussy. Groaning, he began to swim to shore as quickly as possible.
Once he could walk on the bottom, he rushed toward her panting. Water slid slowly down his body, his eyes never drifting from Magda's naked body. She opened her eyes, narrowing them. Balancing on one elbow, she raised a hand to create a visor to block out the sun. A smile appeared on her face and Renato's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. She pushed herself up into a seated position and crossed her legs. He moved closer until he stood before her, blocking the sun completely.
"Ren," she sighed softly. Joy sparkled in her eyes and he felt like crying. Over the years he had dreamed of her but she had always faded away before he could reach her. This time the image stayed put, even said his name as if happy to see him.
"Magda," he replied, his voice gruff with arousal. She stood up and he looked down at her. She was so much shorter than he. She only came up to his chest. Her long dark brown hair trailed down her back in a spill of waves, brushing the top of her rounded ass. He reached out and threaded his fingers in the thick silk, savoring the weight and feel of it against his hands. It was just like he remembered. His vision blurred with tears.
"I never stopped loving you or hoping you were alive," he whispered, almost afraid to say it out loud for fear the dream wouldn't let him unburden his heart to the phantom of his lost love.
"I never wanted to stop looking for you. I just couldn't . . ." his voice halted as a sob rose up in his throat. He didn't want to cry; no, he wanted to love her.
"Shhhh, it's okay. I'm here now. No tears." She stood on tiptoe, placing kisses on his chest. She ran her hands over his sides, slowly, up and down. He took a handful of hair and pulled her head back gently. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against hers, once, twice, before pulling back.
"Are you real?" He whispered as he leaned his head against hers.
"As real as you want me to be, my love," she murmured before pressing her lips against his. She pulled her head back. Her tongue ran along the seam of his lips. His mouth opened and his tongue slipped out to touch the tip of hers, before sliding against hers. She moaned as he slipped his tongue into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth. Their tongues swirled and writhed against each other as he wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her against his body, ignoring the heat flowing through his body, the sweet scent of her arousal swirling around him. He felt his blood turn to lava as the need to taste her blood came to the surface. Their heads rolled slowly from side to side as he dropped his hand from her hair and trailed his fingertips, down the back of her neck, along her spine. She moaned against his mouth, her hands gripped his hips pulling them toward her. She ground herself against his erection. He growled and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, scraping the tips of his fangs against the plump flesh.
The kiss became more passionate as he moved his body away from hers, bent down, not pulling his lips away from hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his hips. He carried her further up the shore and laid her down on the ground. Her legs fell to the ground but her arms remained where they were, a hand delved into his hair, her fingernails scraping his scalp as she urged his head down.
He covered her body with his, sighing at the feeling of her curves against his hardness. The diamond tips of her breasts pressed against his chest. She rubbed her body against his as he thrust his hips forward. His cock pulsed in time with his heart beat. He was so painfully hard. He needed to be inside of her, feeling her core clamp down on him, wrapping his cock in her wet, velvet heat. He did a push up and he felt her body move beneath him. He pulled his head away from hers and looked down, balancing on one hand, he grabbed his cock and positioned it at her entrance. Her knees came up as she tilted her pelvis toward him. He looked back up at her and their eyes met.
"Watch me as I enter you." He could feel her moist heat against the thick crest of his shaft and swallowed, trying to reign in the need to thrust into her hard. He thrust forward and watched her pussy swallow the mushroom head of his cock. She clenched her walls around just the head of him and he groaned, closing his eyes for just a second before moving forward. Inch by inch, slowly he tortured them both. He pulled back and pushed forward. She moaned and he took his eyes off of where they were joined to look up at her. She was pulling, pinching and rolling her nipples, her eyes were narrowed in passion. He growled, wanting to suck one of the tight tips into his mouth.

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-- Dear Reader, Let Me Seduce You . . .

Love, Selena Illyria:

http://www.selenaillyria.com/, http://www.pinkchairdiaries.com/

Tartan Interlude Out Now at Changeling Press

Coming October 15th to Tease Publishing LLC.,: Dravian's Seer

Coming to Loose-Id Jan 6th: Trapped

Hollow Cove by Tuesday Richards

What would you do if your loved one gave you the ultimatum of a life time, move to an alternate realm or end your relationship forever? Would you pack up your entire life and follow your soul mate across realms, or would you stay in your comfortable exsistence that barely made you happy? No brainer? Not Really!

Find out what Celeste does when comfronted with Booth's ultimatum in the first installment to the Paranormal Investigations Team (P.I.T) series Hollow Cove by Tuesday Richards releasing Nov. 7th through Changeling Press!

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1022

Blurb:

Celeste wonders if her powers will ever be complete. Being a witch with magic on the fritz does not bode well for family living; her mother is ashamed of her, and even her shower seems to have a sense of humor about it. Living in Hollow Cove is all she knows and loves -- even with finicky magic and a smart-ass shower named Hokey.

Booth, former resident of Hollow Cove, has a successful real estate business in the Mortal Realm where he moved to when he was old enough. Being the runt of a litter of strong boys and lovely girls made family living hard. His only solace in a world not ashamed of him is the love of his life, Celeste. He returns to Hollow Cove every year on Halloween to spend twenty-four hours with his soul mate, only to return alone every time.

This year is different; Booth has laid down the law. If Celeste doesn’t return to the Mortal Realm with him, their relationship is over.

Excerpt:

Celeste never heard Booth enter the kitchen. The warm breath on the side of her neck was the first giveaway. She leaned her head to the side to allow him access. His lips brushed her skin, tongue tasting her pulse, and her neck prickled with bumps. Booth’s hands slid around Celeste’s waist, pressing the satin fabric of her nightie against her skin. He untied the belt around her waist, then pulled it from the loops. He flattened the satin belt out and loosely placed it over her eyes, tying it gently behind her head.
“Trust me?” His breath tickled her ear.
“Completely.” She had never trusted anybody more in her life. Celeste was an empty shell when it came to the love of her family, but Booth filled that void with his love. She was surprised that he’d stayed completely faithful throughout the years, never another lover, not even the mention of one. Every time she thought about being with him forever, she smiled and could only imagine what the future would hold.
Booth led Celeste around the island and sat her on a stool. His bare feet padded across the granite tile. The freezer door opened and then closed. He approached from her left and touched her arm. He lifted her left arm above her head and slowly bent the arm to secure it with the robe tie already around her eyes. He did the same to the right arm, loosely securing her wrist with the satin fabric.
Her body trembled in anticipation of what the morning would hold.
With her butt on the stool and back against the edge of the island, Booth’s fingertips grazed Celeste’s chest and pulled the top of her nightie down to expose her breasts.
She jumped when his lips kissed the sensitive flesh. Unable to see, Celeste couldn’t tell what he was going to do. This was new and highly erotic.
His hands traced fire through the soft fabric down her belly. He lifted her left leg, placed it on his shoulder and laid his hand on her right knee. “Keep this leg straight. Don’t move.”
All Celeste could do was nod. Caught up in the exotic feeling of not being able to see, she couldn’t speak. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt ice on her ankle.
Booth pushed the ice up the inside of Celeste’s leg, his warm breath trailing behind it. The dual sensation made her shiver and her panties became moist. The ice hit the other ankle and traveled up her leg, warm breath again following behind it. Booth maneuvered the frozen water underneath the fabric of Celeste’s panties, onto her clit. His mouth held it there and he sucked on the ice through the cotton fabric.
“Son of a bat shit!” She leaned her head back, wrists straining against the robe tie. She wanted to touch him so badly. The ice melted against her clit and the cool water ran down her pussy, soaking her panties.
Booth pulled the fabric down Celeste’s legs. He put her left leg back on his shoulder and did the same with her right leg on the other one. His tongue entered her cool wet pussy and slowly made circles. The sensation was intoxicating. She had never felt anything like it before.

Don't miss Hollow Cove by Tuesday Richards releasing Nov. 7th through Changeling Press!

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1022

Phoenix Forrester
Phoenix Rising Promotions
www.phoenixrisingpromotions.com

Excerpt: Til it Bleeds

'Til It Bleeds
by Stephanie Burke
Cover art by Kassie Thrace
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-063-6
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure, Daemonum, Horror, BDSM
Theme(s): Gay and Lesbian
Length: Novella




http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1014






Blurb:

Darkness, demonic possession, the gates of hell threaten to open, and evil threatens to rise over the land… in Ohio.
The Hands of Fate, a pair of ancient relics with untold power, have gone missing, and it’s up to a special pair of operatives to recover them.
The Guild has assigned their best bonded fighting unit, Faith and Vice, to recover the legendary Hands from a scheming under-investigator seduced by their dark power. But with summoned demons, power hungry humans, and maybe even the Guild itself standing in the way, the two men have an unrelenting fight on their hands. A fight to save an undeserving humanity from itself, protect the innocents they are sworn to save, and uncover the dangerous truths hidden deep within the hearts of the Guild, all while holding their own inner demons under tight rein -- demons driven by lust and blood hunger, and only satiated by each other.
To succeed, and to save the world, they may have to fight -- ’Til It Bleeds, and beyond.

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.

“Why don’t you just calm the fuck down?”
Faith was not amused. He sat back against the far wall, away from the carmine-colored… ick… that now liberally spattered the shiny hardwood floors and the once pale cream walls.
He crossed his legs and took a harder toke on the unfiltered cigarette that he had rolled up before coming to this devil’s arsehole of a city. His black eyes held a slight tint of red, showing that he himself had calmed, even if his partner had not.
“You know,” he said, “we still have to walk out of this shit-hole, and it’s still broad daylight.”
“But… but it makes such pretty colors, Faith.” Vice spoke softly, his voice resonating with the child-like quality that showed he was not fully in his right mind. It was one of the reasons the Guild had almost declared him unmatchable and unsuitable to breathe the same good, fresh air as the rest of their engineered freaks.
He smiled up at Faith, his arms painted black nearly to his elbows with the spilled blood and other fluids of their victims. “They get darker and darker…” His pale eyes shone brightly with glee, his face painted in a gruesome caricature of war paint, the browns and reds of human blood drying and flaking as he turned to stare fully into his partner’s face.
But as Faith took another toke and frowned at him, the unholy light that gave Vice such an eerie appearance began to fade from his eyes.
Rolling his eyes, Vice rose to his feet, his hands raking gore-stiffened strands of hair back from his face, exposing the dark brand that encircled his left eye. “You are no fucking fun.”
“You just smeared that shit all over your damn hair,” Faith reminded him, “and before you even think about getting fucked again, you had better wash that shit off. Vice, this shit ain’t funny, man. And you weren’t screaming I was no fun last night. In fact, it sounded more like, ‘Oh, oh, more,’ and, ‘Don’t stop’.”
“Sex is not fun.” Vice stared at the entrails and other freshly exposed organ bits that coated his arms and hands and curled his nose up in disgust. “Sex is serious business.” He flung his hands outwards, barely missing Faith with a thick spray of gore. “This shit…” He curled his upper lip, exposing a gleaming white fang. “…this shit is the fun stuff.”
“And you just fell off your fucking rocker.” Faith rose to his feet, looking down at his full-length black trench coat, checking for blood spatter. “Our time is almost up. The clean-up crew will be here soon, and they don’t take too kindly to getting their food pre-chewed for them.”
“Fucking scavengers.” Vice snarled again before stepping around the three bodies that littered the floor.
“Hey, they do a damn good job.” Faith pinched out the red ember still glowing on the butt of his cigarette and pocketed it before reaching for another. “And for every job --”
“There’s the perfect tool.” Vice stripped off his bloody shirt and used it to wipe the worst of the spillage from his face and hair. He looked down at the stained shirt, then tossed it into the pile of organs that he’d harvested with his bare hands. “So what’s next?”
“Home and a feeding frenzy,” Faith dictated, rising to his full height and scanning the room one last time. “Who would ever think that a bunch of society ladies were trying to raise demons? They were the perfect fodder.”
“Not just any old demons.” Vice reached for his own black leather jacket and donned it over his bare chest. “Lust demons.” He looked down at the grisly remains and kicked a head to the side. “Stupid cunts. Playing with shit they have no idea about, toying in shit that’s better off left alone…”
“And they got us.” Faith walked over to grip his partner by the forearm. “And now, if we have the incantations…”
“Have them.” Vice patted his jacket pocket, the same jacket he’d removed prior to the slaughter to ensure that no blood fell on the spelled pages inside.
“And all signs of the ceremony have been wiped?”
“Oh, hell, yeah.” Vice grinned as he took in the portion of the floor he himself had hacked up with his broadsword and fed into the fire, a fire that had been started by using two out of three of the unfortunate ladies’ hair.
“Then our work here is done.” Faith turned to face the door. “And you know, because you went overboard -- again -- you won’t be going with me back to the safe-house.”
“I know, I know,” Vice chuckled. “The underground.”
“And if I hear any reports of a red-headed demon roaming the sewers…”
“You’ll spank me.” Vice smiled, licking his lips and tossing a wink at Faith’s back.
“I saw that,” came the droll reply. “And I’ll not only spank you, I won’t fuck you afterwards.” Then, almost like a shadow, Faith seemed to dissolve into thin air, ghosting through the house and leaving not so much as the smell of his pungent cigarettes behind.
“Likely story,” Vice laughed, and then he, too, ghosted through the house, leaving no trace of his passing.



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Excerpt: Fortune's Favor

Fortune's Favor
by Lia Connor
Cover art by Kassie Thrace
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-095-7
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage, Bisexual and More, Magic and Mayhem
Series: Fortune
Length: Novella




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Blurb:

Fortune favors the brave…

Nicky thinks she made the biggest mistake of her life four years ago -- falling into bed with her best friends. Not that it would have been a problem if she hadn't heard them regretting what they shared the next day. Since that night, Nicky's been eating her heart out.
Something's got to give. Anyone with eyes can see Nicky and her men belong together. A couple of helping hands from unlikely, magical sources give Nicky what she needs -- a second chance to claim her men -- if only she’s got the courage to take what she wants…

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.

“Boo!”
Nicky jumped, yelped, and nearly knocked over her soda. “Taylor!” She swung around to mock-glare at the man who’d popped up behind her. “You scared me half to death.”
“Gotta be tougher than that, Nicky.” Taylor tousled her hair with the palm of his hand and dropped lightly onto the trestle bench beside her, straddling it easily. A sleek, compact guy, tough with a working man’s hard muscle, he wore a leather vest and nothing else over black jeans sculpted to his body through long wear. He had freckles almost everywhere.
Nicky’s lips parted. “Wow.”
“What? Do I have something on my face?” Taylor turned to and fro, pretending to preen for her with a wicked twinkle in his eye.
“Nothing except this scruffy thing you’re calling a beard.” Nicky tweaked one of the neatly trimmed chestnut whiskers.
“Who’s calling who scruffy?” Ross appeared, sitting on Nicky’s other side. She’d been expecting him and wasn’t startled, though she pretended for the sake of playing the game that made these two rascals happy.
“I’m calling your friend scruffy,” Nicky informed him. “And I’m calling both of you jerks for being mean to me.”
Ross tugged one of Nicky’s loose braids, coming unraveled as always by the end of a long day. Once upon a time, on a steamy-hot summer night that tasted of sweet red wine, he’d said the arrangement of loose strands and tousled curls was kinda hot. Made her look all disheveled, were the words he’d used.
Nicky knew better than to dwell on the memories, and she’d trained herself not to worry about her do when her boys were around.
“Her” boys. She wished. But they’d never know that. Not from her.
Across the table, Rosetta gave Nicky a significant look over her half-drunk pint of hard cider. Rosetta, pretty as a picture of a Renaissance angel, the pale platinum of her curls tumbling artlessly over her cheeks, contrasting beautifully with her skin tone. She had gorgeous skin, damn her, a smooth coffee-with-cream shade. Not afraid of a thing in the world, either. Too bold sometimes. Right now, Nicky could almost hear what Rosetta was thinking. Make a move already, would you?
Nicky blushed, looking down. Rosetta didn’t understand. She’d almost come between them once. She couldn’t let that happen again.
She was now and forever stuck as the gal-pal.
No matter how much it sucked.
Ross, cool and collected as ever, looked at her through ice-blue eyes over his mirrored shades and grinned, the tip-tilted, roguish quirk of lips that set every heart he ever came across to beating faster, female or male. And that was the problem. He was already in love -- with Taylor. “I heard some pretty lady around here was having a birthday today.”
Taylor pretended over-the-top surprise, pressing his hand to his bare chest. “No. Now who in the world could that be? Nobody I know.”
“Guys,” Nicky protested. “Quit playing the fool. You do this every year.”
“Yeah, and you love it.”
Nicky bit her lip. Did he honestly not know the memory of her twenty-first birthday still haunted her? Or was he just being a typical out-of-sight out-of-mind man?
“It’s the anniversary of when we found you, and that counts as a birthday to me,” Taylor pointed out.
True enough. Eight years ago, they’d saved her. He and Ross, joined at the hip even back then, had yanked her off the street corner where she, a scrawny runaway, had been trying to work up the nerve to turn tricks for food. Found her a job with Mama Elise, a place to sleep, and a new life.
She owed them everything, which meant the least she could do was honor their wishes, and not remind them of their one mistake, that one delicious night, four years ago. Their one mistake. No matter what she would have liked from them -- and she could spend hours thinking about the details in luscious, X-rated fantasies -- she’d never allow herself to come between them again.
Rosetta thought she was being an idiot and not stepping up to fight for what should have been hers a long time ago, but she knew better.
“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Ross kissed her cheek, noisily and sloppily, and laughed when she wrinkled her nose at him and wiped her face with a napkin Taylor handed her.
“She’s not exactly a baby,” Rosetta observed, as dry as dust.
“Bah,” Taylor scoffed. “She’ll always be our baby.”
I only wish.
“Can’t anything change that if we don’t let it, right?” Taylor kissed her temple, a quick, friends-only smooch, and tweaked her ear. “Tell me, birthday girl,” he said, digging for his wallet. “What do you want from the bar tonight? My treat. Our treat. Ross and I both want to show you a good time.”
“If only,” Rosetta murmured.

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Excerpt: Masqued Tails by Dawn Montgomery

Masqued Tails
by Dawn Montgomery


Cover art by Sahara Kelly
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-990-3
Genre(s): Paranormal, Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Magic and Mayhem, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Shunga
Length: Novella





http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1012

Blurb:

Trapped!

Magickal null Alaya Bellemore is stuck in a mansion where murder-mystery games become a little too real, midnight encounters with a certain shape-shifting fox becomes the norm, and even the walls and doors are alive.
Shad’s been trapped for far longer than he’d care to remember. When the luscious Alaya walks into his life he finds hope beginning to burn in his heart and soul. And when their passion explodes in an inferno scorching enough to temper their resolve, Shad finds there’s another way to give life to hope.
Can Shad help Alaya escape the clutches of an eclectic collector before she becomes part of his living museum?

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.

A loud banging echoed from below the window. Alaya slammed the book shut, and shivered at the sudden cool breeze. She wiped the sweat off her brow and set the book on the dusty sheet next to the old trunk.
Another round of hard rapping below had her scrambling out of her comfortable spot. She shoved off the floor and raced down the stairs, brushing her soaked bangs off her forehead with an impatient swipe.
“I’m coming!” You wish. Alaya ignored the jibe from the back of her mind. She jumped the last two steps and jogged to the front door. With an impatient tug on the lock, she pulled the old oak door open, wincing at the heavy creak. Those hinges really needed to be oiled.
“Can I help you?” The question died on her lips when she caught sight of her visitor. A vision of leather and lust greeted her at the door. He stood at an angle, the flow of his body at odds with the tension radiating from his shoulders. Ash-colored hair flowed down Mr. Dark and Dangerous’s back, coming to rest on the curve of his ass. He easily topped her by a good foot or so. He turned to her with a killer smile and a dimple.
“Alaya Bellemore?” The soft-spoken question had her leaning closer to hear him. He pursed his lips and took a slow inhalation.
She watched a dark emotion cross his perfectly formed face before it smoothed to calm once more.
Alaya cleared her throat and tried to slow her racing heart. “Yes, that’s me.”
He nodded and lowered his sunglasses. Ice blue eyes beckoned. She glanced behind him and noticed a sweet motorcycle parked in the driveway.
Get a grip, girl! Her mind whirled.
“Can I help you?”
Lines crinkled his eyes as a soft smile teased his lips. “I hope so.”
Alaya wondered why anyone would be looking for her at this house. Her mother’s house. “I’m sorry; are you sure you’re looking for me?”
“Can I see some form of identification? I have a delivery here for Alaya Bellemore and I have to make sure you” -- his smile turned predatory -- “are the intended party.”
Without taking her eyes off the tall and handsome delivery man, Alaya pulled open the drawer of the entryway stand. She pulled out her license with fumbling fingers and handed it to him. “I don’t have to tell you that you look nothing like any delivery boy in my neighborhood.”
With a quick glance and a smile, he gave it back to her. She slipped it into her back pocket. He reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out an odd-sized envelope.
Its wrapper was an iridescent blue. The large square seemed packed full of something, sort of like an invitation. He held it toward her. Alaya Bellemore was elegantly penned across the front.
“Touch the envelope please, Alaya.” He held it with bare hands, so she knew it wasn’t dangerous. Maybe.
She took a soft breath and tentatively brushed her index finger against it. A sudden violent sneeze erupted, squeezing her eyes shut and forcing her to cover her mouth. “Excuse me.”
“Of course, Mistress.”
She opened her eyes and blinked. The envelope was now a rich burgundy.
“How did you do that?” She took the envelope from him and turned it over, wondering if he’d slipped a different one to her. Her name was now a shining silver, almost glowing against the envelope’s dark paper.
He stared at her, his eyes shimmering. For a moment, pity darkened his lovely face. “You’ve been confirmed. All instructions will be in the envelope. See you soon, Alaya.”

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Excerpt: Altar of Anubis

Altar of Anubis
by Ann Vremont
Cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-104-6
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage, Bisexual and More
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1026







Blurb:

Interrupting a burglary, antiquities expert Rene Walker discovers sometimes you have to die to find true love. But a gorgeous male pledging his eternal devotion isn’t all that awaits her on the other side. To enjoy eternity, Rene will have to thwart an ancient enemy who has waited millennia to destroy her and come to terms with an inflexible custom of free love in an immortal society where men outnumber the women ten to one.

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.

Rene Walker had consulted on at least two dozen movie sets since completing her master’s degree in classical studies, but this was the first one to be dressed with genuine antiquities. Getting a museum’s board of directors and an insurance company to agree at the same time was impossible. But Datura’s marketing director had somehow worked a deal with a private collector, and most of the items borrowed would be part of a fifteen-city tour when the film opened.
There would be security guards then, and velvet ropes. For most of the items, tonight’s only protection was a double padlocked door and sealed crates. But it wasn’t the cat statues and gold scarabs making her hands sweat.
That honor went to the room’s centerpiece -- the Altar of Anubis. Made from polished black basalt, it was almost seven feet long and three feet wide.
And she’d bet her degree it was a fake.
Stopping in front of the altar, she eased the bag onto the floor. The heat had turned her hair into a frizzy mass of copper strands, and she pulled a rubber band from her pants pocket. She secured her hair in a ponytail, then bent down and unzipped the bag. Inside were a small hand drill and bits, a voice recorder, empty glass vials, a laser level and rangefinder and, on loan from the local university, a portable spectrometer. She hooked the voice recorder to her ear and switched it on.
She stood back up and placed her hands palm down on the altar’s cold surface. It certainly felt time-worn, the stone having an almost sensual smoothness to it. Slowly, she ran her hands over it, leaning in and closing her eyes. She wanted to believe it was the real thing, to imagine the hundreds who had been sacrificed or embalmed on it. But the properties were off. For starters, the shipping weight was too heavy, suggesting a density four times what it should have been. And the owner had never allowed its inspection.
“Magnificent, isn’t it, Ms. Walker? It’s the one thing in my collection I’m keeping.”
Rene spun around to find Michael Tajnoor watching her with a sharp smile. Behind him another man carried a black suitcase. Both men were dressed in black all the way down to crepe-soled shoes.
“How’d you get in?” She glanced down at Tajnoor’s hand, wished she hadn’t when she realized he was clutching a black ski mask.
Tajnoor jerked his head in the stranger’s direction. “Mr. Tomsin is a man of many talents -- locks, cameras, aging lot guards.” Casually, Tajnoor tossed the mask at her face, ruthlessly grabbing her by the hair when she made the mistake of trying to catch it.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Walker.” His smile deepened, and Rene heard the snick of a knife opening. “But I have a schedule to follow and you’re fucking it up.”
The stab was quick and sure, delivered dispassionately but with a force that buried the blade. She tried to lift her hands, to grab at his arm and the handle sticking out of her chest. Tajnoor shushed her efforts, pushed her backwards until she was falling onto the altar.
Taking the voice recorder from Rene’s ear, he pocketed it, his gaze never leaving her face. Vision fading, she saw him gesture at Tomsin. “Those linens, bring them to me.”
Tajnoor sounded like he was ordering lunch service. Sightless, she heard the blade withdraw with a wet, sluicing noise, followed by the snap of cloth and the push of air against her face. As the sheet settled over her, she thought about Beth, her intern, and how the woman should have cut the cloth into strips already.
The last sound to reach her was Tajnoor, his words framed on each side by a deep chuckle. “There, let them think it’s one of her props. We’ll have our money before anyone knows she’s dead.”




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Hot River: Second Chance Charity by Kate Hill

Hot River: Second Chance Charity
by Kate Hill


Cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-083-4
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Werewolves, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures
Series: Hot River
Length: Novella


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1018

Blurb:

Charity, Queen of the fierce Hot River Werewolf pack, has reason to hate men. Enslaved by one as a child, turned by another as a woman, she’s got issues. But being a werewolf isn’t one of them. She’s been making the most of her cursed existence, until a run in with the man who turned her makes her question the path she’s chosen.
Deep in the Wicked Wild, she meets Shane. Half Elf, half Wildman, Shane makes her question everything she thinks she knows about men -- and sex. The attraction between them is electric. In spite of his origins Shane had a tender side that’s hard to resist, even for the Werewolf Queen. Can he convince Charity to take a second chance at love?

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.

Charity had never dreamed she could be so weak and dishonest.
She stood by a brook that ran near the clearing her pack called home. Glancing around, she saw her women -- some in wolf form, others in their human skin, mingling in the village. They sparred on the dirt floor of the forest, cleaned and prepared meat from the hunt and went about their daily lives, seeming not to care that just yesterday their queen had cheated them out of their much-deserved revenge.
Every werewolf in the pack had been cursed by the same man. Hugo had enticed them, fucked them and, with his love, forced them to change from women to beasts with every full moon. Together they had formed this pack and learned to master their curse so they could call upon the wolf inside them any time they chose. Though in many ways their curse had become a gift, they had sworn vengeance against Hugo.
After so long they had captured him and had been on the verge of making him pay for his animal lust only to be thwarted by a woman Charity had foolishly loved like a member of her pack.
Charity growled deep in her chest. Her fists clenched and pain shot through her injured arm. During the battle, her opponent had broken her arm. Though because of her shapeshifting ability Charity was well on her way to healing, she couldn’t shake the feeling of self-disgust. Not because she’d been wounded, but because of the reasons why.
“Charity,” Magda, her second-in-command, interrupted.
Charity glanced up at the naked brown-haired woman who approached. Like the others in the pack, she wore no clothes. They weren’t necessary in the Wicked Wild, at least not in their territory. The female wolf pack ruled this part of the forest and, until yesterday, had defended themselves well.
“No one holds what happened against you. Sadie challenged you for Hugo’s life and she won the battle. You set them both free and now it’s over. You don’t have to leave.”
Closing her eyes for a moment, Charity tried to keep her temper in check. These women didn’t fully comprehend what had happened. “Yes, I do have to leave.”
“Anyone can lose a battle. Sadie is a strong warrior.”
“I know what she is. I made her,” Charity said bitterly.
Sadie, a gifted magical practitioner, had come to her years ago with an avid interest in shapeshifters. The women had taken an instant liking to each other and Sadie had been invited to live with the pack. After much convincing, Charity had agreed to give Sadie the power of the werewolf. They had been close, then Sadie had become her wolf daughter.
Sadie knew how the female pack had been cursed. She knew all about the pain Hugo had caused them, yet she had still chosen to harbor the bastard in her house, attempting to rehabilitate him and show him how to control his power.
“If the women felt you were wrong or that justice wasn’t served, we would have gone against pack law and killed Hugo and Sadie anyway. During the short time we held him captive, we took our revenge on his hide. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but…”
“What?” Charity demanded.
“I’m not the only member of this pack to believe he seemed to regret what he did to us.”
“Don’t be weak, Magda. That’s how he got to you in the first place. Feigning sweetness. You know he showed each of us what we wanted to see and told us what we wanted to hear. We entered his bed women and left wolves. Do you think because he pretends to be sorry for what he did that he deserves to be forgiven?”
The women held each other’s gaze for several seconds, then Charity looked away. That was a first. Usually she could stare down anyone.
Perhaps because she knew she was lying again. She was accusing Magda of doing what she had done, except for Charity it was worse. She was their queen. It had been her duty to avenge them, and she had failed. There was no forgiveness for her, just as there should have been none for Hugo.
Magda sighed. “Maybe it is a good idea for you to go away and sort things out.”
Charity turned to her and nodded. “You’re a great warrior, Magda, and a wise woman. You’ll probably be a far better queen than I have been.”
“You are still our queen,” Magda said with conviction. “I’ve talked to the other women and they agree. When you return, you will take your rightful place as leader of our pack. I will simply watch over our territory until then.”
Drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Charity tilted her face upward, squinting at the sunlight shining through spaces between the leaves at the tops of the tall trees.
“When will you leave?” Magda asked.
“Now.”
“Good luck.”
“Keep the pack safe and strong.”
“You have my word.”




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Imperative: Always You by Belinda McBride

Imperative: Always You
by Belinda McBride


cover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-090-2
Genre(s): Futuristic
Theme(s): Bisexual and More
Series: Imperative
Length: Novella


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1021

Blurb:

In the future, we don't choose our mates; Nature chooses for us. Nature doesn't make mistakes. And if you don't pay attention to Nature's Imperative, you suffer.

She could always get under his skin. He could always send her spinning into fury. Marilyn and Neil aren’t like oil and water, they’re like dynamite and a fuse! Not only do these co-workers hate each other, but Mari’s still in love with her ex-husband, and Neil? Well, Neil is gay.
Nature’s got some explaining to do.

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 really could kill you right now.”
Marilyn stood, arms crossed, glaring as the high-tech printing unit choked and then froze. Anxiously, she glanced at the clock. She had a good hour before the office began to wake up for the day. This early morning privacy was her most creative time. No staff, no bosses, and most important: no Neil.
She could sit at her drafting unit and touch up the art she’d started the day before, edit the copy, get everything prepped for the critical eye of her design partner. The bane of her existence. She had no idea whose bright idea it had been to pair the two. They weren’t like oil and water. More like dynamite and a match. And Marilyn had a short fuse.
“You break it again?”
“Shit!”
Marilyn jumped as a hand dropped on her shoulder. She turned to glare at the handsome man invading her space. Not that he did it out of interest. It was simple arrogance. Just for her benefit. He knew she hated to be touched. Specifically, by him.
“What…” She took a deep breath, remembering her last round of anger management. “Neil. You’re early.” A smile just wasn’t there for him. It never had been. When she stopped to think about it, she wondered why on Earth this man got under her skin so easily. She sometimes felt as though her world revolved around being angry at Neil. Her husband had said that she loved hating Neil more than she loved her own husband.
Well, they’d certainly put that to the test. She still hated Neil, and the jury was out on Dale.
She resumed glaring at the machine. Surely, it would do something sometime? Besides, it was better than looking at Neil in his crisp summer suit and shower damp hair. She really didn’t want him standing here when the print spit out. It was just a raw idea, far from ready for production. But he wouldn’t care, all he’d see was disproportion and rough edges. His work was never rough.
His shit probably didn’t stink either.
“Thought I’d see how this early bird thing works out.” He shrugged out of his caramel colored linen jacket and headed for their shared office. In moments he was back, pushing up his sleeves, popping the machine open at the side. For long moments, he made typical male sounds, “mmhhhmmm” and “ahhhh.” Finally, he scooted back on that fine ass of his, crossing his arms over his knees. “Going to have to wait for IT.”
“Great.”
He gave her a grin and rose a bit stiffly, wincing as he stood.
“You okay?” She didn’t want to be concerned, but the guy was usually pretty spry. In fact, for a pretty boy he was damned athletic. She frowned at a purple bruise that circled his wrist. It matched a larger one on his forearm. Carefully, Neil pushed his sleeves down, buttoning the cuffs.
“What happened to your arms?” Now that she was looking, she saw a slight abrasion on his neck, running up to his jaw. Hopefully, she sounded curious rather than concerned.
“Not really your concern, Marilyn.” He ran a hand through his carefully cut hair, natural gold highlights catching the office light. His usual arrogant mask settled over his features.
Shut her down cold and lit her short fuse in a single stroke.
Marilyn spun on her high heels and stalked away, barely restraining the urge to slam the office door in her wake. She so did not need this! Not now. Fucking prima donna…
He headed off to the break room and coffee pot, while she fumed in front of her graphic screen. They’d be here alone for the next hour, no clerks to buffer their tension, no bosses telling them to play nice. But it was Thursday, and she was leaving early, taking Friday off. Things to do, bridges to burn, that sort of thing. She breathed deeply, forcing her anger into submission.
Marilyn opened a new screen and started on the copy for a new article.




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Mastering Mirage by Leila Brown

Mastering Mirage
by Leila Brown


Cover art by Bryan Keller
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-015-5
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Sci-Fi, BDSM
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Series: Super Sex
Length: Novella


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1016

Blurb:

Soundwave had always assumed that she was an only child, but she was wrong. Her two sisters have found out about her existence and they are searching the galaxy to find her.
Mirage has spent her entire life hiding behind her power to create illusions. Shielding both her and her sister from the world and her heart from pain. But when their search for Soundwave casts them as unwilling participants in a mating ritual for a planet full of manticores, illusions will do them little good. Now, they aren’t searching for a lost sister, they’re fighting for their freedom.
Rynund chose his mate from the scantily-clad space-order mates not for her beauty but for her tight-lipped defiance. He was sure she would lead him on a merry chase. What he didn’t expect was for her to steal a spaceship and lead him off-world. The hunt is on. Too bad for her, hunting is what a manticore does best!





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.
“Welcome to Yarthax. The Claiming Ceremony is about to begin. Please follow me.” A tall, willowy woman with waist-length brown hair, blue eyes and soft voice welcomed them. She led the way down a long, worn path in the lush grass. Mirage sucked in her breath as they stepped into a clearing. From their first look at the planet she’d expected something primitive. Not this.
There was a large metal stage. Lights. Her breath froze in her chest as she spied the ten chairs on the platform. This wasn’t good. Shit. Mischief’s gasp came seconds after hers. “Do something,” her sister whispered.
“What would you suggest? I don’t know where everyone is. They all need to be in the same place for this to work.” Mirage looked around hoping that no one could hear them.
Music drifted from the nearby woods.
“Mirage.” The panic in her sister’s voice sent Mirage’s heart into massive erratic spurts.
“Please lift a glass with me. It will calm your nerves,” the woman said as they came upon a tray with eleven glasses filled with a golden liquid.
Several women lifted their glasses and drained them. Mirage eyed her sister and knew that with their dark hair, ivory skin and honey-colored eyes they were going to stand out and attract a lot of attention on that stage. They lifted their glasses to their lips. There was no question what she needed to do here. She gathered her power and presented an image of both of them drinking the liquid. As soon as the woman turned away from them, the girls emptied their glasses on the ground in front of them.
“Now,” the woman said. More women came from out of nowhere. They were in serious trouble.
A woman grabbed hold of Mirage’s arm and led her up to the stage. The other women walked slowly and didn’t look around. Drugged, most likely. The native women left each of them standing in front of a chair. Then they walked around to stand at the base of the stage.
“Just play along for now. Don’t let them know you aren’t drugged,” Mirage whispered out of the side of her mouth.
“Put up a damn screen so we can get out of here.”
“What if there are more people in the trees nearby?”
Mischief muttered something but Mirage couldn’t make it out. “Shhhh.” Mirage looked to the left, then the right without moving her head. “No, this is different. We don’t just want to get back on The Bridal Boat. We need to find another ship and get off the planet without running into any problems.”
People emerged from the wooded area near the base of the stage. The beat of the drums got louder. Fuck. Time was running out. Soon they would lose their chance to escape. More men and women stepped through the bushes. Shit. It looked like time had run out.
“Just play along,” she told Mischief. “When we get a chance, we’re out of here.” They couldn’t afford to rush this. One chance was all they were going to get.
Men poured from the bushes. They walked up to the foot of the stage but didn’t climb up. Mirage tried not to stare at them. They were at least six and a half feet tall and each one more handsome than the last. Why would they use the services of The Bridal Boat? It didn’t make any sense.
“Choose,” a loud female voice boomed over the crowd.
Mirage held her breath, expecting the crowd to rush the stage, but no one in the crowd moved. A procession of ten men came up a ramp on the left side of the stage. Mirage stared straight ahead, but as the men walked in front of her she couldn’t help marveling over their looks.
Heat raced up her sides as the men stepped closer to her. She bit down on her lip to keep from looking at Mischief, but she could see they were running out of women. This time they would be chosen. Mirage watched as two men stepped up to her sister and claimed her.
She almost crossed her eyes to keep from moving as they guided Mischief in front of her. There would be nowhere for them to hide if they hurt her sister. She would drive them into insanity. This was extremely different from the other planets they’d visited. There was rarely more than one person chosen at a time and there definitely hadn’t been any voyeuristic atmosphere.
“Come.”
Mirage blinked several times before her eyes widened. Shit. Her head whipped up to glance at the man by her side. He looked down at her with amusement dancing in his amber eyes. He knew. That bastard knew she wasn’t in a trance.





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Mission: Touchdown by Mary Winter

Mission: Touchdown
by Mary Winter

Cover art by Karen Fox
ISBN (13): 978-1-59596-950-7
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Gay and Lesbian
Series: Live Action Hero
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1011

Blurb:

Van’s torn between going back to law school to finish his degree or staying on as a partner in The Fantastic Five. He loves restoring old action figures, and the one he’s working on is special. He finishes the work, wishing the decision before him was as easy as the football games he used to play. When he’s awakened in the middle of the night, instead of the intruder he expected, he finds his action figure has come to life and brought with him a whole new set of complications.
Brice knows the key to Van’s decision lies inside him. All he has to do is follow his heart. But getting a lawyer to trust his emotions is about as easy as making first down on fourth and twenty. It’s a mission Brice will gladly accept. Because once the pass is completed, it’s an easy touchdown.

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.
Perched on a stool, a law book open on the table beside him, Van rummaged through the plastic container holding the civilian action figure clothes. Frankly, he had no idea why the hell he was back here, except he’d helped his buddies get legal papers for their lovers and he wanted in on the action too. Van snorted. He had other things to think about, like whether he could return to college and continue working for The Fantastic Five. Whether his friends would think he’d deserted them, if he couldn’t do both things and chose college over them.
He found and discarded at least four pairs of khaki pants. Didn’t anyone make jeans that fit the larger twelve-inch action figures? He might have to scour the online auction sites again to rebuild their stock. Apparently, his friends’ lovers were repairing action figures at a record pace. Probably hoping to bring more of their friends back to life.
A flash of yellow spandex at the bottom of the box caught his attention. Pulling out the pants, he realized they were part of a football uniform. Hey, now that might have possibilities. Looking at the broken brown-haired figure on the bench beside him, he could easily see the toy in a sports uniform. Van dug a bit deeper in the box and came up with a set of shoulder pads and a uniform shirt.
“Guess you’re going to be a football player,” Van said, laughing at the fact that he spoke to the plastic man. Even if he came alive -- and from where Van sat that was a huge if -- he had too many things going on to add a lover to the mix. Though it sure would be nice to feel a man’s touch, if he wanted that, he could go to any number of college bars in town. Surely some young law student would want a bit of tutoring and could come up with payment. Van grinned as he grabbed a second bin full of accessories. If he went back to college, maybe he’d have a love life.
He lifted a football and helmet from the bin, finding a pair of hip pads shortly thereafter. A pair of cleats from the plastic box holding shoes, and the guy’s uniform would be complete.
It’d be nice to wear a uniform again.
Van shook his head. That voice wasn’t his. It sounded different, like opposing counsel standing across the room talking to him during a trial. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temples. Too much thinking, not enough action. Maybe he should just get out of here and go do something.
He stared at the football outfit sitting on the bench next to him. Even though the figure was obviously broken, he dressed it, careful to keep the body from falling into its two pieces. He slid the helmet over the toy’s brown hair. There, nearly perfect.
This figure needed this uniform.
Van had no idea how he knew that, or where the thought had come from. Looking at the toy, dressed in the white and gold football uniform, Van knew that this figure had been built for this role. Too bad they didn’t have any use for it in their campaign, but they were a comic shop, not a sports collectible one. And besides, Hugh had Talon, who seemed destined to become The Fantastic Five’s exclusive model.
“Now if you were real, I could totally handle that.” Van grinned, already imagining the figure brought to life, shirtless, his hip pads poking up from beneath his spandex pants. Van would kneel between the man’s spread thighs, tracing the contours of his abs and obliques. The drawstring tantalized him, inviting Van to tug it and open the pants. Rising onto his knees, he’d trace the man’s jaw, then draw his head down to his.
Van’s cock hardened with the thought. He bit back a groan thinking about the tangle of tongues and the stroke of fingers against flesh. A tug at the drawstring, unhooking the pads, and an adjustment of sports equipment, and he could cup the man’s cock in his hands. He’d palm it, stroking him from base to tip, then back again, pausing only to capture the bead of moisture emerging from the tip.
Somehow they’d manage to stand, and stumble, kissing and groping, to the shower. There, they’d take turns soaping each other, paying attention to the bruises and sore muscles a full-contact game like football could leave behind. Then, in the empty locker room, he’d drop to his knees and take the man’s cock into his mouth.
Van’s breath shuddered. The salty taste of the man’s pre-come would fill his mouth, just like his balls would provide a nice handful. Reaching behind them, Van would tease the sensitive skin until the man moaned, the sound echoing with the running water in the empty shower room.
Yeah, that’d be nice.
The voice startled Van out of his reverie. Damn, he must really be losing it if he was hearing things.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1011

Boolicious by KZ Snow

Boolicious
by K.Z. Snow

cover art by Karen Fox
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-008-7
Genre(s): Humor and Satire
Theme(s): Vampires, Magic and Mayhem, Seasonal Themes, Halloween
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1006

Blurb:

Often, breaking up with a boyfriend is a blessing in disguise. Sometimes, being stuck with crazy relatives is the same thing.
Hannah Blue didn’t think so after she made an ill-advised bet with her Aunt Kate, a bawdy old hippie and self-styled witch. A little too much wine had made Hannah cocky enough to think she could get laid by November 1 and, in so doing, become a hundred dollars richer. But it isn’t turning out that way; Hannah’s picky about men.
As the bet’s deadline draws near, Aunt Kate decides to give her niece a little behind-the-scenes help. She wants Hannah to have a restorative roll in the hay and win that C-note.
But even a weird and wild Halloween swingers’ party doesn’t bring a man Hannah’s way. Horny and glum, she decides to boost her spirits by strolling down the streets of her neighborhood and enjoying Trick-or-Treat night. She eventually tags along with a trio of unescorted kids. It’s a pleasant, innocent diversion that helps Hannah resign herself to being a loser.
Until, at one house, a man wearing a vampire cape and tiny red briefs comes flying out the door…and proves the most delectable piece of candy -- and the best way to win a bet -- Hannah could ever have imagined.

Excerpt:

They'd covered maybe three blocks, zigzagging from one side of the street to another, when they approached a small, red-brick bungalow. Emily charged up the porch steps with her usual enthusiasm, crying "Trick or treat!" all the way.
The door opened just as Hannah and the boys joined her. No smiling matron holding a candy basket appeared. Instead, a large, dark mass flew out of the house. Emily squealed. Startled, they all scrambled backward down the steps and withdrew to the railings.
The dark form was a man. A man in an opera cape—black satin on the outside, red on the inside—with a deeply scalloped, upturned collar and a bat attached by a spring to one shoulder. The cape was skewed off to one side, the bat bobbing and weaving like Muhammad Ali.
When the man regained his footing, he straightened his garment, swiped both palms over his hair, and faced the four people on the porch steps. "Uh . . . boo."
Dumbfounded, the four trick-or-treaters stared at him.
Emily looked up at her brother. "Can I keep `im?"
"He's too big for your bag, dork." Jeremy pointed at Hannah, who stood at the opposite railing. "Better let her keep him."
What the hell? Mouth agape, she stared at the man. Beneath the cape he wore only the skimpiest red briefs. A green glow came from his mouth. What the hell?
"Were you s'posed to scare us?" Emily asked. "Do you live here?"
The man looked embarrassed. "No."
"What didja do?" Emily asked him. "Are you a robber? Didja get caught? Is that why they threw you out?"
The man cleared his throat. "That's one way of putting it."
"So what are you hiding in your mouth? You better give it back."
"I'm not hiding anything. Those are my teeth." He bared his glow-in-the-dark, fanged plastic uppers. "I'm a vampire."
Jeremy chuffed. "Dracula didn't walk around in his shorts."
"Yeah, well, I'm his poor brother, Zacula. Can't afford formal wear, just underwear."
Hannah snorted a poorly suppressed laugh. She curled a hand over her mouth and looked down.
"Hey," Grif said, pointing at him, "your bat's starting to droop."
"That's not all." The man slid a glance at Hannah, who just at that moment happened to be sliding a glance at his—droop or no droop—well filled-out scarlet briefs. Self-consciously, he pulled the cape around his midsection.




http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1006

Sexy Games by Madeline Oh

Sexy Games
by Madeleine Oh

cover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-074-2
Genre(s): BDSM
Series: Games
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1007

Blurb:

An appetizer to die for…
It looked like being a boring party, but a tall, dark haired, sexy man changed all that. Accepting his suggestion that they skip out on the assembled company, Jenny agrees, for a evening of spectacular sex. But Basil Wallace wants more than a one-night stand. He plans on tying Jenny down -- in more ways than one.

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.

“Hang on!” Nina called as Jenny pulled up in front of the house. “Tom and his friend are here. Let them give you a hand.”
“Super!” And there was Tom Baldwin in all his glory, wicked grin under the no doubt enhanced these days sandy blond mop.
“Jenny!” Tom enveloped her in a lovely hug and his kiss was just right. Enough to surface a few nice memories without resurrecting the shock to her naiveté. “Lovely to see you.”
It was. But much, much lovelier was the man she glimpsed over Tom’s shoulder. “Hello.” Her voice came out a rather tight squeak as she eased out of Tom’s embrace.
“Going to share, old man?” the stranger asked. It was a rich sexy voice, a curl your toes and flip your innards voice. Gad! That smile could melt glass marbles.
“Oh! Baz! Forgot you were there.”
How could anyone, even a rather self-absorbed TV star, forget the male specimen who stood less than an arm’s length behind? Jenny took a deep breath, held out her hand. “I’m Jenny Everly.”
“Basil Wallace.”
Dear heaven, the only Basils she’d come across were Fawlty and Brush, and neither came anywhere close. She looked up into dark blue eyes and grinned. So much for being all cool and soigné. “You came down for the party?” A clue to the connection would be handy here.
“I came down to keep an eye on Tom.”
Good one! She wished she could manage a sexy, enigmatic sort of smile but damn… “That will keep you busy all night.”
“Not too busy, I hope.”
So did she.
“Come on, man! Let’s get this lot unloaded for Jenny.”
And then, of course, she had to stare as Basil Wallace unbuttoned his cuffs with long, tanned fingers and rolled up his shirtsleeves. The sight of muscular forearms was a complimentary extra. His movements were swift and precise, but it didn’t take much to imagine those hands being equally precise but very, very slow. As for the smile that curled his wide mouth…
“Won’t take us long,” Basil said. “Is the van locked?”
Took her a good five seconds to process that with her lust-invaded brain. “Yes, let me get it.” She held out the key fob and pressed the release button. Tom opened the doors to reveal trays of canapés and savories all stacked on their narrow racks.
“And she cooks too!” Baz said, almost under his breath.
Almost, but not quite. Cheeky bugger! Just because she ogled him at first sight didn’t give him the right to get fresh. “You’ve no idea what I can do,” she replied, sliding a tray of shrimp tartlets and smoked salmon rolls from the van and turning sharply to head for the house.
“Let me get that,” Baz said, a half smile -- an apology perhaps? -- curving one side of his mouth.
“No, I have it. Take another one.” Without looking back she headed across the path and through the kitchen door.
“Jenny, dear,” Mrs. Baldwin said. “Lovely to see you, and wonderful of your mother to rustle up all these. She’s incredible.”
Jenny agreed, but it seemed a bit off to say so. “Hello, Mrs. Baldwin. Where’s the extra fridge?”
“In the laundry room.”
Jenny slid her tray into the fridge and turned to see Basil and Tom on her heels. She took their trays and shelved them. Tom nipped out for another, but Basil hesitated. “Coming to the party?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.”
“Good,” he replied, as he walked out.

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