Thursday, December 23, 2010

Gatos (Cat o' Nines Collection ) by Lia Connor


Gatos (Cat O'Nines Collection) by Lia  Connor

Read an excerpt

Gatos (Cat O'Nines Collection)

by Lia ConnorCover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-461-0
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Shapeshifters
Length: Collection
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1517

Blurb:

Catkind -- they're rough, they're tough and they don't take no for an answer. But who'd want to say no? Not Gabriella, a barmaid in a tiny roadhouse named Gatos near the Mexican border. Nor her sister Marnie. With his sisters carried off by the Catkind, Tony's left to run Gatos, but he won't be alone -- a couple of misfit "alley cats" have joined forces with Tony.
Lucia's a party girl with two hot, hunky Catkind on her trail. Orion, a white Tiger, and Jomei, a Bengal, are royalty among the Catkind. They're about to learn Lucia's much more than a pretty face. When the four Gatos siblings return with their Catkind mates for a final showdown against their nemesis, Anuetta thinks she's got these tigers by their tails, but she doesn't count on the mighty strength of the Gatos family. The line's been drawn in the ashes, and the claws are out!
This collection contains the previously release novellas in the Cat O'Nines collection: Cat's Claws, Cat's Eye, Cat's Cradle, Cat's Meow, and Cat's Paw.
Excerpt:
Cat O' Nines: Cat's Claws


Lia Connor

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2010 Lia Connor

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.



"So there I am, standing in the middle of the street, screaming at him en Espanol. I'm calling him things our abuela would turn over in her grave to hear me say. And then she'd wash my mouth out with soap."



"Lucia, when are you going to learn?" Gabriella unlocked the door to Gatos' cold storage unit. "You stay away from men like him. They're trouble."



Lucia, her sister, had the fire of a Roman candle and a temper to match. She jammed her hands on her hips in indignation. "Like you have room to talk," she shot back.



"I do. Do you see me getting tangled up with any troublemakers like him?" She yanked open the door, and cold air escaped with a whoosh. "Uh-uh. Oh, that's good." Gabriella closed her eyes and swayed in bliss. It was a gorgeous day outside in the shabby outskirts of San Miguel, the sky pure blue and the horizon clear for miles. Which meant it was hot enough to suit the devil himself, especially back in the warehouse. She let herself enjoy the cool air coming from the cold storage unit for a moment, then got back to business. She nudged the handcart. "Come on, you take one crate and I'll take the other."



"We shouldn't roll out a keg?"



"If you think you can manhandle a keg in heat like this, dolly or no dolly, you're welcome to try. Grab a case for now. Tony can get the rest later." Gabriella sized up the hefty crate stamped with the Moctezuma Brewery logo. Nothing tasted as good or as rich as their cervesa. Moctezuma was why locals bothered traveling to her tiny, out-of-the-way bar. If the brew master hadn't been a friend of her brother Tony, no way she'd have gotten her mitts on any of their goods. "Come on, Lucia, put your back into it."



Lucia pouted briefly before bending and lifting the crate. Tendons stood out in her neck from the effort as she wrestled a heavy crate onto the dolly. "We need some strong young stud for this."



"And there you go again, thinking about men," Gabriella chided. "I'm not saying I wouldn't like to have a strong young thing around, especially if he's hot, eh? I'm saying we can get by fine without one. You seem to think that's a mortal sin, which is why I'm listening to you pitch a fit in the street." She tempered the sting of her words with the fondness of her tone.



Gabriella shut the door to the cold storage unit and clicked the padlock back in place before taking the handle of the dolly. Oof. She had to admit, the crates were terribly heavy. Together they headed back to the main room of Gatos, the tiny tumbledown bar that had been their sole legacy from their mother.



Not exactly a rich and abundant inheritance. Ah, well, Mama had tried.



Lucia was still stuck back on Gabriella's opinions. "You're telling me if a man like Roger came on to you, you'd say no? He looked so pretty." She swung around to walk backwards. "Those cornflower blue eyes and his soft golden hair. Like a prince out of a fairytale." Her pleading turned wicked. "And good in bed? He was a devil when it came to loving me."



"And how many other women at the same time?" Gabriella bumped open the swinging kitchen door. "Would I say no to a man like Roger? Hell, no, I wouldn't. But..."



Lucia rolled her eyes.



"But," Gabriella went on, not letting Lucia's scorn stop her, "I'd say yes long enough to enjoy his body. If he's as good as you say, I'd have fun with him for a few days then send him packing. No harm, no foul, and no broken heart that needs someone to sweep up the pieces."



Lucia scoffed. "You wouldn't know how to let your hair down if someone gave you a hands-on demonstration."



Gabriella's pride was stung. "Says you!"



"You're right, says I. You want to make a bet on this? Friday night's tip jar says you don't have the guts to take the next handsome guy who walks into Gatos for a test run."



Ay, Lucia had her there. Gabriella could never back down from a challenge. "I'm listening. What are the terms?"



Lucia stretched her muscles out before unlocking the cooler. "So we have a deal?"



"Not yet." Gabriella pulled the dolly close enough to the cooler to unload it. "Let me hear the details before I say yes or no."



"Like you would," Lucia smirked. "All right, here's the deal. When we open tonight, you and I man the bar. When the first hot guy walks in, one I decide is enough of a handful for even you, I point him out and that's when the game begins. You come on to him, you do whatever you have to do, and if he's safe you get him into bed."



"I'm not a slut," Gabriella objected, all the while hoisting crates and holding them for Lucia to unpack and stow in the cooler. "And how am I supposed to know if he's 'safe'?" She dusted off her hands after the last bottle was stashed away. "You have to give me more than that to go on. I'm supposed to proposition a customer? That'll give me a great reputation."



Lucia shrugged smugly. "So you're saying no? You're backing down already?"


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1517

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Interview with Detective O'Grady, homicide detective and star of Blood Hunter


border-style: solid;border-width: 0pt;I'd like you all to help me welcome Detective O'Grady to TRS.


Me: Thank you for joining us today, Detective O'Grady. Some background, you've been in homicide for almost ten years?
Grady: That's right and before that major crimes. I joined the force right out of school. Been a cop for nearly thirty years.
Me: Wow, that's a long time. Is it all right if I ask a few personal questions?
Grady: Depends on how personal, but go ahead. Ask.

Me: Your name is Pasquale O'Grady? That's a rather unusual name.
(chuckling)
Grady: My mother's Italian. She named me for her grandfather. On my dad's side, I'm third generation Irish American cop.

Me: So can I call you Patsy or Patty?
Grady: Not if you want to keep all your teeth.

Me: Oh, is that why you go by Grady?
Grady: Yeah, I'm nobodies patsy and too many Pats in the family already, both men and women. My mother calls me Patsy, that's the Italian nick name but no one else.

Me: Says here you have three kids, two daughters and a son. Divorced for ten years.
Grady: Yup, I warned her before we married I'd never wanted to be anything but a cop. She decided she wanted a husband with a bigger bank account and Sundays off. (he shrugs)

Me: So any girlfriends?
Grady: Depends on your definition of girlfriend. ( snickering) I have a feeling she would smack me for calling her that.

Me: Ah, the vampire, right?
Grady: (snorts) No such thing as vampires. But her brother writes that kind of romance so she helps promote his work by playing the part of badass in black.

Me: So let's pretend for a moment, they really are vampires. Do you consider yourselves a couple?
Grady: It's not like we're dating or anything. We just, ah, spend a lot of quality time together. According to the vampire code, they don't date mortals. We're toys or pets at best.

Me: That sucks, pun intended.
Grady: I couldn't agree more. They call us blood slaves, but frankly, that's kind like calling me Pasty.

Me: Any wanna be vampires missing their fangs?
Grady: (laughing) Not yet. But I did shoot my partner over it. Just scratched her really.

Me: Wow, that must have made her angry. Isn't it dangerous to anger someone so powerful?
Grady: (with a wicked grin) Dangerously sexy.

Me: Care to explain?
Grady: Not really. A gentleman never kisses and tells. (winks suggestively)

Me: Well. OK then. So tell me more about these Blood Hunters.
Grady: Who?

Me: That group your Captain belongs to, the vampire hunters?
Grady: I have no idea what you are talking about. (looks at watch) It's been nice but I need to get going. Bad guys to catch, asses to kick, you know.

Me: (smiling) In a hurry to get back to your master?
Grady: (scowling) I don't have a master. But I do have a partner expecting me. We've got work to do.

Me: Ah, so you're rushing off to meet Detective Jane Smith?
Grady: (gives me the cop stare) Smitty is still my partner.

Me: But that's not who your anxious to see is it, Detective?
Grady: (Stands and gives me a smug smile) I'm not at liberty to discuss that.

Me: Any chance I can get an interview with your other partner, Segrun?
Grady: Not if you want to publish what you write. (laughs)
(Door opens and a tall, leggy blond woman, shorter pale blond woman and the sexiest, bald headed black man ever, enter.)
Grady: Well, maybe you'll get that interview after all. The tall blond is Segrun, the pale one is Eira and the bald guy is Nate.

Me: Oh my. Is he a cover model?
Segrun: (snort) Don't feed his already oversize ego. The man thinks he's God's gift to the universe as it is.

Me: (snicker) Don't you mean God's gift to women?
Eira: (laughs) He's not that picky. If it has a pulse he's interested.
Nate: (in nice southern drawl) Now that's just mean, Eira. I prefer to think of it as not bein' prejudiced. (Takes my hand and kisses the back) And you, darlin' are simply to luscious to ignore.

Me: (I stare into light green eyes surrounded by cafe-au-lait skin) Oh, ah, thank you.
Nate: Now you know this is all just a publicity stunt. No such thing as vampires, darlin'.

Me: (vacantly) No such thing as vampires, no such thing as vampires...
Viking Seduction 2: Blood Hunter coming soon to Changeling press
Brannan Black
Epic Romances, Fantastic Fantasies of the Paranormal kind
Viking Seduction 2: Blood Hunter Boytoy for a sexy blond vampire? No way. This cop has a job: find his daughter, hunt vamps...
Viking Seduction 1: Blood Slave It's the twenty-first century. Who keeps slaves anymore? Other than really, really old vampires...
The Wild One, Eireann's Tale Enslaved but not cowed, Eireann would rather die than submit to the Northman determined to tame her.
Wolfman Apocalypse "Captured by vicious wolfmen, I expected a quick death. Or a slow painful one. They had other ideas."
Soul Bound "I sought only a warm meal. I found predators on the hunt, and I their chosen prey."
Soul Seer: Aftermath, a free read
EpicRomances.com
Brannan's Fantasies, blog

Friend me on face book, Brannan Black

__._,_.___

Spotlight: Christmas Cookies: Rowan's Men by Jade Buchanan


SPOTLIGHT: Christmas Cookies: Rowan's Men by Jade  Buchanan
Read an excerpt
 
 

SPOTLIGHT: Christmas Cookies: Rowan's Men

by Jade BuchananCover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-59596-768-8
Genre(s): Paranormal, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Christmas, Seasonal Themes
Series: Christmas Cookies Multi-Author
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=759

Blurb:
The holidays are approaching and Rowan's feeling a little homesick. The Felidae don't have anything remotely similar to Christmas, so she's decided to go all out for Laithe and Fahd. Homemade presents, Christmas baking and a heck of a surprise are going to keep her men on their toes this year.
Excerpt:
Christmas Cookies: Rowan's Men
Jade Buchanan
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Jade Buchanan

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 smell of cinnamon and gingerbread filled the room. Okay, fine, it wasn't cinnamon or gingerbread, but it was close enough. Heck, it wasn't as if the men knew what it was supposed to smell like anyway. She'd slaved all day making bread, and she just hoped it was edible. Rowan was desperate to make gingerbread houses, and she'd had to beg Ariel for help in creating the right consistency for the dough. Ariel had given her the strangest look, and Rowan just knew she was thinking the little human was insane, but she hadn't said anything. Ariel was probably humoring her, but it really didn't matter. The gingerbread houses had been made, and were now gracing the small table where they normally ate. Lopsided and green -- and not exactly the right shape either -- the houses were just perfect.
Snorting softly, Rowan rocked back and forth in front of the small tree. It wasn't exactly the evergreen tree she was used to, but she'd had fun guiding her men into picking just the right one. They'd spent almost two hours outside among the vegetation surrounding their home, with her first discarding one tree and then another before she was content. It listed to one side, haphazardly pulled up by the string connecting it to the wall. Hell, at least it was green.
"Definitely looks like a Charlie Brown tree, but I like it."
"I'm glad to hear that, Nawra. It took us forever to pick it out."
Strong arms enfolded her from behind, tawny fur brushed against her stomach. Rowan leaned back gratefully, lifting one hand to pet along the muscular forearm.
Giggling, she tilted her head to look up at his beloved features. "It wasn't that bad, Laithe. You know you liked it."
He nuzzled her neck, tickling her with the chocolate brown mane that caressed the tops of her shoulders. "Mmmm, I liked the payment after much better."
"I bet you did, perv boy."
Thrusting his hips against her backside, Laithe let her know exactly how much he'd like a repeat performance. Geez, her men were insatiable sometimes.
"Where's Fahd?" she asked, settling more of her weight against Laithe, letting him support her body from behind. It was one thing she loved about them, they were both so damn strong she never had to worry about her weight around them. She wasn't exactly a delicate flower, no matter what Laithe nicknamed her. Heck, she could probably gain fifty more pounds and they wouldn't complain about it. A mental image of herself waddling around the abode, like a pudgy dough boy, caused her to giggle again.
"I'm glad you are so happy, Nawra. Fahd and I were worried about you."
Rowan turned in Laithe's arms, frowning up at him. "What're you talking about?"
His face was troubled, his brow furrowed as he studied her just as intently as she was studying him.
"We were worried you didn't want to go to Earth. When Aaron said he was going back, you didn't say anything. When we asked you if you wanted to accompany him, you refused to leave. We were worried. I wasn't sure why you refused to go back."
Smiling up at her fierce warrior -- looking so worried -- Rowan smoothed her palm along his furred cheek. "Laithe, I didn't want to go back because there's no reason for me to go. My life isn't there anymore. It's here with the two of you."
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=759

Spotlight: Merry's Christmas Menage by Eve Vaughn

SPOTLIGHT: Merry's Christmas Ménage by Eve  Vaughn
Read an excerpt
 
 

SPOTLIGHT: Merry's Christmas Ménage

by Eve VaughnCover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-59596-270-6
Genre(s): Paranormal, Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage, Shapeshifters, BBW, Christmas, Seasonal Themes
Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=245

Blurb:

Merry Holiday has fallen on hard times. After the death of her mother, Merry learns that everything has been left to a sister she doesn't get along with, including the house she has lived in most of her life. With her confidence shattered and her heart in tatters, Merry finds herself looking for a job and a place to live. When she interviews for a position as a live in housekeeper, she finds the reclusive Thorne Mordeaux, one of the hunkiest men she's ever laid eyes on.
Thorne Mordeaux has a secret. He's Darwaedd royalty from the mythical island Sayrea. He's left his island to escape the shadow of his overpowering brother Dax and the heartbreak of a lost love. Thorne falls for his sweet new housekeeper and as the winter grows colder, his feelings for her heat up, but he's doesn't want to scare her off with his advances.
A week before Christmas, King Dax makes an unexpected appearance to convince Thorne to come back to their island. It's obvious to Dax that his brother and Merry are in love, and just as obvious -- neither of them has the faith to act on that love. With the help of some Christmas Magic, Dax makes it his mission to give fate a hand and bring them together.
Excerpt:
Merry's Christmas Ménage
Eve Vaughn
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Eve Vaughn

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.


"Merry." She heard the soft whisper of her name before trying to turn around. "No. Stay where you are. I want you just like this."

She turned her head to see Thorne walking toward her with the stealth of a jungle cat. For someone so large, he moved with a grace that made it seem as though he were gliding across the room.

Merry's breath caught in her throat when he stopped mere inches behind her. She could smell a hint of his tangy cologne, Cool Water, and liked it. She loved everything about this man. His proximity wreaked havoc with her equilibrium.

Thorne's hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her against his taut body. She stiffened. What was the meaning of this? He'd never so much as looked at her when he was engrossed in his work. That he was holding her now was a bit of a shock, though not unwelcome.

"Relax, Merry. I won't bite... unless you want me to."

"Mr. Mordeaux --"

"Thorne. I've already told you to call me by my first name."

"But --"

"No buts, Merry. Say my name."

She already thought of him as Thorne in her mind, so why not say it?

Because it was a line she was afraid to cross.

His grip tightened on her shoulders as he lowered his head. His warm breath tickled her skin, sending sparks of pleasure through the core of her being. Merry had wanted this gorgeous man from the moment she'd laid eyes on him. Thorne Mordeaux oozed sexuality, with a tall, powerfully built frame and a set of shoulders so broad she dreamed of resting her head on them.

He had a nice tight ass, which she'd often watch when he walked past her. Thorne could wear the hell out of some Levi's. His face was just as arresting, with a long straight nose and midnight brows slashed over eyes so pale a blue at times they almost appeared platinum. The dark and the light were such a startling contrast that his gaze had a hypnotic effect.

His lips, though thin, were well shaped, made for kissing. Many carnal thoughts sprang to mind when she looked at his mouth and wondered what it would feel like on hers. She loved the way the unruly waves of his black hair rested on his scalp in a constant state of disarray. It was neither long nor short, just touching the edge of his collar.

He was gorgeous. And out of her league.

Thorne lowered his hands until they cupped her breasts. Merry gasped. "Mr. Mord --"

"Thorne," he whispered, kissing the nape of her neck.

"Thorne," she sighed, leaning against his hard body. A wave of pure desire rushed through her.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you, Merry."

"So why didn't you ever say anything?" she asked, finding it hard to get the words out when he squeezed her aching mounds in his palms. She felt a tingling between her thighs and squirmed to temper the burning heat within.

"Because I wasn't sure how you'd react." His tongue slid over the shell of her ear and Merry thought she'd explode any second now. She turned around to press her tight breasts against his chest.

"I don't know why you would think I wouldn't want you. I've... I've wanted you for a long time too." Merry cupped the back of Thorne's neck. Her body awakened when he lowered his head to kiss her. She opened her mouth under the insistent pressure of his tongue initiating its seductive dance.

Merry ground her body against his, wanting to be closer. His hands slid down her back until they reached the curves of her ass, squeezing and molding them with his hands. She reveled in his touch, her body on fire for him. It was finally happening. After two months of daydreaming and fantasizing, Merry was in Thorne's arms.

He lifted his head with a soft groan, looking down at her with pale, lust-filled eyes. "You're beautiful, Merry. You have no idea how hard it's been watching you in this house and not being able to touch you -- to tell you how I feel."

She gasped. "How long?"

"I think from the beginning."

Merry shook her head. "But... I'm not beautiful."

"You are to me, and I want you."

She was on the verge of responding to Thorne's declaration when a shrill buzz sliced through the air. "What?" she asked, suddenly feeling disoriented and drowsy, the ringing cutting through her subconscious.

Reluctantly, Merry opened her eyes only to discover it was all a dream.

Damn.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=245

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Sugarplum: Bound for Christmas by S. Michael


Sugarplum: Bound for Christmas by S.  Michael
Read an excerpt
 
 

Sugarplum: Bound for Christmas

by S. MichaelCover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-527-3
Genre(s): Hot Flashes, BDSM
Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Christmas, Seasonal Themes
Series: Sugarplums
Length: Hot Flash
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1514

Blurb:

Jenny adores her husband and Dom, Greg, and she's looking for just the right Christmas gift for him. Lucky for her, her friend Luke has been lusting over her and Greg for a while now and is more than willing to let Jenny wrap him up as the best Christmas present ever.
When Greg gets home, he finds Jenny all wrapped up in red silk, and Luke bound to the wall wearing little more than bells and ribbons. Luke promises to be the best Christmas gift they've ever shared, and Greg's sure it'll be the hottest holiday, too!
Excerpt:
Sugarplum: Bound for Christmas
S. Michael
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 S. Michael

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.


Jenny looked over at Luke, licked her lips and smiled, knowing full well the look was feral. She couldn't help it; she wanted to eat Greg's present up with a spoon. A tiny little silver spoon so that it took hours. "You look fabulous, baby boy."
Luke arched under the scrape of her nails, the bells on the little clamped nipples tinkling as he moved, the padded cuffs holding him stretched against the wall. She'd spent her own time bound there, twisting under Greg's attentions, but tonight it wasn't her turn.
Tonight they were celebrating the longest night of the year and, for once, her gift was going to be the best one.
One beautiful, needy, pale boy who begged her, so prettily, to let him play.
Luke was Greg's type -- he looked enough like her to be related, in fact. Blond, blue-eyed, on the petite side, with pale skin that would show marks. Jenny had spent all day getting the man ready. She'd shaved him from the neck down, then washed him before she'd bent him over the edge of the tub and cleaned him inside. She'd bound his cock with a lovely dark red ribbon and gagged him with a tiny one, more symbolic than anything.
Then she'd slipped her little black velvet collar on, along with a red satin teddy. If she was lucky, Greg would approve of her outfit.
If she was really lucky, he wouldn't.
The thought made her chuckle.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Greg walked into the back room, suit jacket open, tie halfway undone. His laser-sharp blue eyes took in her gift, and then her, raking over her body.
"Merry Christmas, love." She held the "sir" back, gauging her husband's mood and preference.
"Merry, indeed." The words all but purred out of Greg.
Eyes on Luke, Greg grabbed her and tugged her up against his solid body. Her chin was tilted, and Greg took her lips in a long, very thorough kiss. Jenny groaned as his thigh pressed between hers, making her wet, her pussy proving that the day had been enough to keep her stoked, hot. Greg's tongue took her lips again, stealing her breath and leaving her dazed.
"So you got me two gifts this year?"
"Hmm? I brought you this sweet baby boy, all wrapped."
"And what about this sweet girl, all decked out in red satin?" Greg's hand slid down to her ass, big hand wrapping around one cheek and squeezing tight.
"I'm always yours, love. Forever." Her hips moved, rubbing her slit against Greg's leg.
"I know." He kissed her again, his eyes on her gift as his tongue slid over hers.
Luke moaned behind them, the sound hungry, lovely.
"He's perfect, baby."
"I love you." She whispered the words into his ear. "He's all yours for the night. We're all yours to play with."
"Mmm. Does he taste as good as he looks?"
"I hope so. He's all smooth and showered for you."
Greg smiled into her eyes. "Thank you, baby."
He slapped her ass and then stalked over to where Luke was strung up against the wall.
Luke's blue eyes were heavy-lidded, that pretty cock thick and fat, swollen at the tip where it begged for attention. Clear drops slipped down the shaft, staining the pretty red ribbon.
"Oh, baby, he's everything I could have asked for." Greg's finger slid over Luke's chest, then flicked at one little nipple clamp, making it ring.
Luke gasped, his body arching toward Greg, and Jenny moaned. Pretty. She loved watching Greg when he played with the boys. Things got so fierce.
Greg tapped the thin ribbon in Luke's mouth. "Safe word, boy?"
"Basket, Sir."
Basket. That was adorable. Almost as sweet as Luke himself.
"Use it if you need it, boy." Then Greg's mouth covered Luke's, kissing him right around the ribbon.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1514

Sugarplum:Yuletide Spirit by Jessica Coulter Smith

Sugarplum: Yuletide Spirit by Jessica Coulter Smith
Read an excerpt
 
 

Sugarplum: Yuletide Spirit

by Jessica Coulter SmithCover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-523-5
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Ménage, BBW, Christmas, Seasonal Themes
Series: Sugarplums
Length: Hot Flash
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1513

Blurb:

The last gift Jenna expected on Christmas was two lovers who make her explore her sexuality.
Jenna Monterey has inherited a plantation home that has seen better days. When she hires a restoration crew, she doesn't expect to be drawn to their lead team member. But there's just something about Jake that makes Jenna weak in the knees. She starts to have erotic dreams about Jake and someone named Matt, a man she's never met before, dreams that leave her trembling with desire. Are they an omen of what's to come? Or does she really just need to get laid?
Excerpt:
Sugarplum: Yuletide Spirit
Jessica Coulter Smith
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Jessica Coulter Smith

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.


Jenna eyed the house with trepidation. Having inherited the crumbling pile, she felt obligated to check it out before selling the place. Orphaned at birth, Jenna was adopted by Silas Monterey. She'd been fortunate to lead a life of privilege and had a trust fund that guaranteed she wouldn't want for money. But looking at the giant house before her, she wasn't sure her bank account could handle a complete restoration.
Windmere Plantation had been in the Monterey family for four hundred years, and it showed. The paint was peeling, having turned yellow with age. The mosaic tiled porch, which she was sure had been added later, and the paint on the massive columns had cracked in several places. Silas had never brought her here, and now she understood why.
At least the windows are intact, she thought with a grimace.
Squaring her shoulders, she inserted the key into the lock and pushed the door open, cringing at the loud creak that echoed throughout the house. It was dark and dusty inside. The dank smell of stale air and moisture assailed her. She wrinkled her nose and shut the door, plunging herself into darkness, the windows so filthy that no light could penetrate the gloom.
She looked at the floor, wanting to set her heavy bag down, but didn't dare. It was obvious she needed a cleaning crew to come immediately. There was no way she was going to tackle the monstrous job herself. Besides, she'd probably break her nails and ruin her French manicure.
Before she could leave, a cold chill swept over her and she heard a man laugh softly in her ear. With a gasp, she spun around, but no one was there. Her heart thundered in her chest as her eyes searched the inky blackness. After a moment, she decided it must have been her imagination.
Opening the front door, she slipped back outside and locked it. She wasn't about to stay in the house before it was cleaned and the linens were washed. For that matter, she'd probably have to buy new mattresses. No telling what kind of creatures had made nests in them.
This was definitely not how she had intended to spend her holiday. While it was her first Christmas without Silas, she'd wanted to spend it someplace warm -- the Bahamas maybe. Instead, she was stuck trying to fix an old house she had absolutely no interest in, other than to sell it.
After heaving her bag back into her trunk, she got behind the wheel and drove to the closest hotel. First thing in the morning, she would call someone to scrub the house from top to bottom. Once it was clean, she'd have a better idea of what she would need to restore before she could sell the crumbling pile. In its present state, she doubted she could get so much as a hundred dollars for the place. Hell, she probably couldn't give it away for free!
* * *
Entering the lobby of the plush hotel, she walked up to the desk and rang the bell.
An elderly man walked slowly from the back office and smiled at her. "What may I do for you, young lady?"
"I'd like a room. I'm not sure how long I'll need it though."
"Certainly." He tapped away on the computer keyboard. "May I see your driver's license and credit card?"
She handed both to him.
He stared at her driver's license with interest. "Monterey. Are you related to Silas Monterey?"
"You knew him?"
"Very well. Everyone knows Mr. Monterey and Windmere."
"That's why I'm here. Windmere. Father left it to me and I came to assess its value."
"Value?" He looked startled. "You aren't selling it, are you?"
"Well, yes."
"You might have a problem with that."
"Why?" she asked with a frown.
"Because it's haunted."
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1513

Monday, December 20, 2010

Sugarplum: The Demon's Christmas Present by Leona Grey

Sugarplum: The Demon's Christmas Present by Leona  Grey
Read an excerpt
 
 

Sugarplum: The Demon's Christmas Present

by Leona GreyCover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-525-9
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Christmas, Seasonal Themes
Series: Sugarplums
Length: Hot Flash

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1512

Blurb:

So a demon walks into a bar... No, seriously.
Peter is a wealthy, philanthropic mystery man who loves children and just happens to confess, while in a state of drunkenness, that he is, in fact, a demon. A Christmas demon, no less. Of course, he also happens to confess his burning desire for Lacey and challenges her to return to him if she thinks she can handle it. Who could say no to that? Especially when the man issuing the challenge has chocolate brown eyes, broad shoulders, and a huge heart.
Excerpt:
Sugarplum: The Demon's Christmas Present
Leona Grey
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Leona Grey

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.


She studied his home while she sat wrapped in her coat, waiting in the car for him. His house was big and old. She liked that -- it gave it a certain warmth. Of course, she liked pretty much anything old or antique, but the place really seemed to fit him. It seemed strong and warm, like him.
When he emerged from the house he was wearing a burgundy, button-up shirt and carrying a small rectangular box. He handed it to her and waited expectantly. She almost hated to unwrap it, it was so pretty. The copper and silver paper shone under the streetlight.
"The best part is inside," he prompted with a small smile. She stuck her tongue out at him and opened it. In the box was a carnelian cameo pendant on a strand of pearls. It looked to be antique. Lacey stared at it.
"Tell me this isn't real. I can't accept it if it's real."
"It's not real."
"You're lying. Look at it. It is so real."
He shrugged. "Put it on. It would make me happy for you to have it." Well, if it would make him happy... She put it on, feeling completely undeserving but at the same time not caring.
"Why are you so generous?" Such a beautiful antique couldn't have been cheap. It was not the kind of thing one generally bought on a whim. It was a gift meant for someone special. What could it mean?
His smile was a little bitter. "If I get drunk enough, I might just tell you." It took her a moment to realize he wasn't answering her mental question. Once it came to her she sat quietly while he slid behind the wheel and wondered what he meant by it. It sounded like he wanted to make up for something. Though, she supposed, it didn't matter. He was a good man, and he was sad. Her goal for this evening was to cheer him up.
"So, what kind of music do you like?"
"Anything but Christmas music."
"Yeah, they do tend to play it nonstop after Halloween. Um, what do you do for fun?" She hoped to get him talking on light subjects as they drove -- nothing he could be too serious about.
He thought a moment. "Most of the time, I like camping and hiking. Around this time of year, working with kids and getting drunk, just not at the same time."
"Okay, avoiding the subject of Christmas. Where do you go when you're camping?"
"All over, really. I look for spots that I haven't been before. I prefer the little-known ones, where you can go without seeing other people. Sometimes it takes a lot of research to find those places."
"Not much of a people person, are you?"
"No. I'm sorry. I'm not very good company. Would you like to go home?"
"No. I'd like to cheer you up. I plan to get a real smile out of you sometime tonight."
He snorted. "Good luck."
"Are you doubting me?"
"Oh, no, if anyone could do it, it's probably you."
She blushed a little at that. "That's right and don't forget it."
He did a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am."
Finding him agreeable to being cheered up, she went on making little remarks and silly jokes until they reached the bar. As she expected, it was small and afforded some privacy. What dismayed her was the amount he was drinking. He must do it a lot, because he wasn't acting nearly as drunk as he should have been.
"It takes quite a lot to get me drunk," he explained. He must have noticed the way she was looking at him. "So, tell me about you. Why did you decide on charity work?"
"It's important. I feel like I'm making a difference, and that makes me happy. Why are you involved in it?"
"I like seeing kids happy. I don't see that much with my job, and it bothers me."
"It sounds like you don't enjoy your work." She supposed it was his business, but she would never choose a job that made her unhappy, no matter how good the money was. Of course, it was what enabled him to help others, so who was she to judge?
"I don't, but it's something that needs to be done."
"Like city sanitation."
He laughed quietly. "Close enough." He watched her from the corner of his eye while he took a drink.
She had a suspicion. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
He took another drink. "I think I might. You'll probably just think I'm a rich eccentric, anyway." Another drink. "I'm Black Peter." He watched her expectantly.
"Are you a musician?"
"No, no. Knecht Ruprecht? A cert?" His sigh was exasperated. He leaned closer to her. "I'm a Christmas demon."
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1512

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Sugarplum: Blitzened by Elizabeth Jewell

Sugarplum: Blitzened by Elizabeth  Jewell
Read an excerpt
 
 

Sugarplum: Blitzened

by Elizabeth JewellCover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-522-8
Genre(s): Paranormal, Hot Flashes
Theme(s): Vampires, Christmas, Seasonal Themes, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Sugarplums
Length: Hot Flash
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1511

Blurb:
Nick hasn't seen Ian in a while -- Ian's been studying. But when Christmas Eve rolls around, the vampire bouncer gets a yen to kindle some holiday spirit in his human boyfriend's heart.
Excerpt:
Sugarplum: Blitzened
Elizabeth Jewell
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Elizabeth Jewell

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.


Even as a kid, Nick Marshall hadn't had much use for Christmas. While his friends all seemed cheery, happy and full of holiday spirit, he spent most of the weeks before the holiday listening to his parents argue about money, then about whether Nick should have been born in the first place. Then, if he was lucky, he maybe got a sweater or a pair of socks next to the fireplace where the Christmas tree wasn't.
Frankly, it had been a pain in the ass.
These days, he spent Christmas Eve behind the bar, drying Highball glasses and listening to the customers whine. It was amazing how many vampires, blessed with immortality, could do nothing but bitch about how their current holiday celebrations were completely fucked because they could no longer step inside a religious establishment of any kind. Of course, they could if they really wanted to. Nick had gone to a Christmas Eve service once and, aside from a raging headache for three days after, had survived the experience.
He could kind of understand it from the young man sitting at the bar right now. Wearing too-low jeans and a too-tight T-shirt, he'd only been Turned a few months ago. It was, as he'd said nineteen times already, his first Christmas dead. That one was always the hardest.
"We're having a party here," Nick offered, mostly in an attempt to shut the kid down. "Should be fun. I hear some bite junkies are coming by to provide refreshments." He wasn't planning to attend, himself. He still didn't entirely believe the generally held assumption that vampires couldn't get any horrible diseases from bite junkies. Not that he had any evidence, anecdotal or otherwise, to support his theory. Bite junkies just squicked him out.
The kid blinked, his expression owlish under his eyeliner. Didn't he know emo was out of fashion? Or was it? Nick had lost track about the time bell-bottoms had gone out of style.
"It's not the same," the kid said. "There's nothing like sitting in church singing Christmas carols."
"You went to church a lot before you were Turned?" He could at least try to be sympathetic, Nick thought. He could definitely understand missing long-standing human habits, especially if you were newly-Turned.
Another blink. "No, not really."
Okay, that was it. He'd done his level best. Nick didn't wear the sympathetic bartender persona very well on the best of days, and today it was just asking too much. "Well, then, what the fuck difference does it make?"
For a horrible, seemingly eternal moment, Nick thought the kid was going to burst into tears. "Oh, my God, you suck!" he said, and flounced off to mope at a table. Jeez. Kid needed to get laid for Christmas.
"You are aware, of course, that you really do suck." The voice came from behind Nick; he turned to see Trey leaning across the bar behind him, playing with an empty shot glass. The tall, slim vampire was wearing a green velvet jacket over black skinny jeans and a bright red T-shirt. His auburn hair fell in full, lovely lady locks onto his shoulders, and his brown eyes regarded Nick with something between derision and humor. He was about as pretty as a man could get without being a girl. He was also a complete asshole.
"Why are you here?" Nick asked blandly. He was pushing his luck -- Trey was the head of the local cadre and technically could have Nick banished, shunned, beheaded or put out in the sun if he wanted to. He generally wasn't quite that much of a dick, though. Generally he was just annoying as ever-loving fuck. Generally.
Apparently Trey had been infected by the Christmas spirit, because he only tilted his head and smiled. There. Christmas spirit. There was a horrible disease you could get from bite junkies. "Just inspecting the establishment," Trey said. "Endeavoring to ensure everyone is following the rules."
"Is making dumb emo kids cry against the rules?"
Trey chuckled. "Perhaps. I do get weary of the noobs, though, I have to say."
Wow. Trey really was in a good mood. Nick wondered in passing why he'd actually stopped by. Probably just to make an appearance, keep everybody on their toes. Trey was like that. Things had been so much better when Roarke had been around. More laid-back. Or so Nick had been told.
"So," Trey said, taking a lazy step closer. "Why aren't you home cuddling with your boyfriend under the tree?"
It was Nick's turn to blink. He didn't really have a good answer to that question. "He's busy. Finals or something."
Trey made an obnoxious clicking noise. "On Christmas Eve? I think not." Trey leaned over the bar. He was far too close. Nick could smell his cologne. Fucker always smelled like the nineteenth century. Maybe the eighteenth -- Nick wasn't sure. "Has there been some dire misunderstanding? Trouble, as it were, in paradise? I could still claim him, you know. He was quite delectable, as I recall. All that curly hair..."
Nick made a solid effort to collect himself; telling Trey to fuck off would undoubtedly be bad for his health. "Nothing like that."
"Well, then. Take the rest of this hallowed Eve off. Visit your sweetling and make passionate love under the arching evergreen branches of your seasonal tree. I insist."
"Right," said Nick.
"I truly do," said Trey.
"Fine," said Nick. "Fine. I will."
God only knew what Ian would think about it, though. But, thinking about all that curly hair, Nick decided he was willing to find out.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1511

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Garou: White Vampire by Jonathan Wright

Garou: White Vampire by Jonathan  Wright
Read an excerpt
 
 

Garou: White Vampire

by Jonathan WrightCover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-574-7
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure, BDSM
Theme(s): Vampires, Werewolves
Series: Garou
Length: Novella
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1523

Blurb:

Paris, France, 2010 -- In the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.
Elena, a twelve-hundred-year-old Moorish vampire, has met her perfect match in Stephan Garou, an ageless werewolf, who needs her almost as much as he desires her. But death stalks them both in the form of her ex-husband, Marcus Trent, known long ago as Drakulya, prince of medieval Wallachia.
Garou and Elena are intent on bringing the hunt to their implacable foe. But the millionaire businessman seems to be one step ahead of them, sending death in many forms to hunt them down in his quest to eliminate all "abnormals" -- those who, through infection, have become creatures of legend, cursed to live forever in the shadows.
Marcus has lived more than five centuries as a vampire himself, but in his heart he is still a man. A man who has a place, perhaps, for something he has all but forgotten... and he thinks he's found that in Marie Laverre, Garou's long ago lover.
To save herself from a slow, agonizing death, Marie has injected herself with Garou's blood. The blood of a werewolf is filled with power, and will cause changes that not even Garou could anticipate. Inhuman, immortal, virtually invulnerable, the White Vampire has risen -- and she has a plan. One that doesn't involve becoming a thrall to Marcus Trent.
Excerpt:
 Garou: White Vampire
Jonathan Wright
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Jonathan Wright

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.


Marie gloried in her vitality. She looked and felt decades younger than her seventy-two years. The terrible hacking cough and shortness of breath had disappeared entirely. She had always been beautiful, but now men a third of her age looked at her with unguarded lust, which gave her considerable pleasure.
She wanted to experience again what had been slipping away from her over the years -- the attraction of a new lover, the sense of mystery and intrigue about the dance of love. And the passionate sex. Oh, how she had missed that!
A fuck a week from Bertrand, a nice trim man of about sixty, did not constitute passionate sex, not by a long way in her book. Especially as he already had a wife of more than thirty years. Silly woman, to let him stray. Clearly she deserved no less. But now Marie wanted far more than Bertrand could ever offer.
Less than a week had passed since Marie had received the mysterious package from one Mr. Wolfe. After first setting it aside, she suddenly muttered an epithet under her breath and opened it, finally understanding who the sender had to be.
Within the careful packaging lay a small vial of dark liquid, and a short, cryptic note: "A votre santé, ma Cherie."
She chose a robe of sheer silk that she had not worn in ages. A simple rose tint with sky blue streaks, that only just covered her compact hips and even when belted displayed her tits to generous advantage. That and nothing more.
From habit she tapped out a cigarette and then tossed the pack in the trash, remembering the gagging reaction she had experienced before. Stephan would approve. At least she could still enjoy her other vices -- wine, clothing and sex.
She thought of Stephan now, not as a fine memory from her youth. More like a future experience, to be anticipated. I do not care that he has another woman. I want him. I will have him.
When he had come to her before, searching for Vlad Drakulya, she had helped him and sent him away, feeling the sadness and -- she admitted it now -- the self-pity of one condemned to death. She smiled in mild disbelief. That I could have been so melodramatic.
Then had come the little package, and the innocuous vial of...
Stephan's blood.
She stood before her mirror and lifted her firmer, fuller tits. Everything looked better, to be sure. More vital. Lines she still had, but they were less than before, and seemed to be disappearing as she watched. Thirty-five, perhaps forty, and very well preserved at that. And getting younger by the minute. The process fascinated her. Rejuvenation. Amazing.
She had known the risks. Stephan had made that clear, years ago. She had one chance in five, perhaps less. Less a matter of blood type than simply the nature of the virus itself, a virulent and implacable entity. Merciless. If it did not merge with her body in whatever way it needed to do, she would die.
Injecting herself with the blood had not been as easy as she had expected, even though she knew she would be dead in months, if not weeks, from lung cancer. But we never really believe it until it is upon us. She had hesitated...
She fluffed her thick, dark hair before the mirror and did not wonder if Stephan would want her, only how she would handle him. His incredible strength, and that overpowering musk, had always made her feel weak and very submissive. She expected she would still feel that way, but with a twist. I think you will be impressed, Monsieur werewolf.
The doorbell rang. She glided across the living room, checked the peephole to affirm her expectation, sighed, and slowly opened the door.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1523