Thursday, September 16, 2010
Bound by Blood by Amanda Steiger
Bound by Blood
by Amanda Steiger
Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-59596-860-9
Genre(s): Paranormal, Dark Fantasy
Theme(s): Vampires, Gay and Lesbian
Length: Novella
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1457
Blurb:
For centuries, the sacrificial offerings have kept the peace between humans and the immortal Kin who feed on their blood. Every few years, a young human is taken from the village and given to the Kin. When Daniel's beloved sister is chosen, he offers himself in her place. Like most humans, Daniel has grown up believing the Kin to be heartless monsters. He never imagined that Vale -- the Kin Lord appointed to train him -- would treat him with compassion... or that his touch would stir Daniel's body and heart, would make him crave the very thing he'd always feared: the sweet, sharp burn of fangs in his neck.
Excerpt:
Bound by Blood
Amanda Steiger
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Amanda Steiger
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.
Daniel sat upright in the saddle, wrists bound, as his horse plodded forward. The coarse ropes chafed his skin, and fear twisted his guts into knots, but he kept his face calm and expressionless. He would hold onto his dignity, he promised himself, no matter what happened. It was all he had left.
Moonlight silvered the leaves of the forest as the procession rode single file down the narrow path. A guard rode behind him, and another in front to keep him from running away. They needn't have worried. He did not intend to escape. If he did, his sister would suffer in his place.
He tried not to think of what awaited him at the end of the path. Instead, he thought of Sara safe and alive, baking bread with their mother, riding her favorite mare through the fields, picking wildflowers.
The procession stopped in a large, round clearing. Daniel's two escorts dismounted. They were both men from the village, men he knew. They wouldn't look him in the eye. Tom -- the village baker -- looked around, the whites of his eyes flashing like those of a frightened horse. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "They'll be here any minute," he muttered.
"Aye," replied Ben, the other escort. He glanced over his shoulder at Daniel, looked down, shook his head, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "I tell you, Tom, I hate this arrangement. It ain't right, offering our young men and women to these blood-suckers. Sometimes I think it was better in the old days, when we hunted --"
"Shhh! You want them to hear you?"
"They can't hear us," he said, irritation creeping into his voice. "They aren't here yet."
"You don't know that," Tom shot back. "One of 'em could be standing right next to you, and you wouldn't know it unless he spoke." He glared at Ben. "None of us like this arrangement, but it's the only way. In the old days, people died. The offerings keep things peaceful. Keeps the blood-suckers from our village. As for the offerings... well, it's the price we pay. It's not like they kill them."
"No." Ben lowered his voice even more, but Daniel could still make out the words. "But what they do to them is probably worse."
"Hush!"
Daniel's hands clenched, nails pressing into his palms. "It's all right," he said. Despite his efforts to keep his voice steady, it trembled. "I'm not afraid." It was a lie, and they all knew it. Ben and Tom exchanged guilty glances.
They waited. Daniel's ears caught the thump of approaching hoof beats. He tensed.
At the edge of the clearing, a black horse emerged from the shadows. It was huge, muscular; its coat sleek and glossy. The rider wore dark, close-fitting trousers, which showed off his long, lean legs, and his black cloak billowed in the wind. Beneath it was a tight shirt of black leather, molded to the contours of his body. He was slender but hard, all sculpted muscle, his abdomen flat and trim. His skin was white, as if it had never seen sunlight... and he was stunningly, unnervingly beautiful, as beautiful as a woman, though it was impossible to mistake him for one. A breeze ruffled his short hair, which gleamed a pale silver, like moonlight on water. And his eyes...
Daniel's heartbeat quickened as he stared into those ruby eyes. He had never seen one of the Kin face to face. That pale face was as cold and expressionless as a statue's. There was no trace of feeling in those blood-red eyes. They flicked over the two cowering escorts, then focused on Daniel.
"Is this the offering?" The Kin lord's voice was deep and full. It seemed to reverberate in the pit of Daniel's stomach, in the marrow of his bones.
Tom took a deep breath and straightened. "Yes, my lord."
"I was told that the offering this year would be a young woman."
Tom glanced at Daniel and cleared his throat. "Aye, that was the intent. But this young man -- Daniel -- volunteered to take the place of his sister."
Silver brows lifted. He looked at Daniel. "Is this true?"
Daniel swallowed. "Yes." His voice sounded very small.
"How old are you, Daniel?"
"Twenty."
For a long moment, the Kin lord stared at him. That ruby gaze held him immobile. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He felt as though those eyes could see straight into his head, as if they were examining every particle of his soul, weighing and measuring unseen qualities. At last, the man nodded. "Very well. Unbind his hands and let him dismount."
With shaking hands, Tom unbound Daniel's wrists. Daniel dismounted. His heart knocked like a fist against his chest as he walked toward the huge, black horse and the silver-haired man. He looked over his shoulder, but Tom and Ben would not meet his gaze.
"You two may go," the silver-haired man said. "Take his horse with you. He won't need it."
Still avoiding Daniel's gaze, they turned their horses and walked them out of the clearing. Daniel's mare followed. He took a deep breath and approached the Kin lord.
Ruby eyes stared down at him. The man stretched out a hand. Daniel took it -- the skin was smooth as marble -- and the Kin lord pulled him onto the horse. Daniel gasped. There was no saddle. He gripped the horse with his thighs.
"Hold on to me," said the Kin lord.
Daniel hesitated, then placed his hands gingerly on the man's shoulders.
"Not like that." There was a touch of gentle amusement in his voice. "Put your arms around my waist."
Daniel bit his lower lip. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around that dagger-slim waist. His chest pressed against the man's hard back. The Kin lord gave his mount a light tap with his heels. The horse snorted, tossed its head, and began to walk.
"My name is Vale, but you may address me as Master."
"Yes, Master," Daniel said quietly.
Vale looked over his shoulder. His crimson eyes reflected Daniel's face. There were no discernable pupils, just two solid, ruby disks that seemed to burn with their own inner light. "You volunteered to take your sister's place, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Daniel hesitated. "She's younger than me by four years. She's in love with a man whom she's planning to marry one day. And my parents adore her. The whole village adores her. So do I. She's always treated me with more kindness than anyone else. When she was chosen as the offering, everyone was devastated. I could not bear to think of her being taken away from all those who love her." He remembered the moment of sinking dread as a village elder had read Sara's name from the scrap of paper he'd drawn, blindfolded, from a wooden box.
"And you? Will they not be devastated by your loss, as well?"
Self-conscious, Daniel dropped his gaze. "I..."
"Look at me."
Daniel looked up and met those cool, expressionless eyes. "No, Master, they won't miss me much."
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1457
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
New Reviews for Changeling Press 9/13/10
New Reviews for Changeling Press 9/13/10
Congratulations to Sharon Maria Bidwell, Shelby Morgen, Sierra Dafoe, Selena
Blake, Violet Summers and Aubrey Ross!
AN ACT OF GENEROSITY (Sharon Maria Bidwell)
Four Stars from Rainbow Reviews
The sex was hot and quite plentiful and it soon morphed into lovemaking. Love
and admiration are universal concepts.
http://www.rainbow-reviews.com/?p=7230
DIRE WOLVES: WHITEOUT (Shelby Morgen)
Four & ½ Cherries from Whipped Cream Reviews
The heat that builds between Suzanne and John is delicious to watch and when
they finally get together, sparks fly.
http://whippedcream2.blogspot.com/2010/09/dire-wolves-whiteout-by-shelby-morgen.html
LIFE'S A BEACH (Sierra Dafoe)
Four Lips from Two Lips Reviews
.a light and fun novella with a heroine who starts out prickly and ends up
loveable. If you want to read a short, fun, hot ménage, then this is the book
for you.
http://www.twolipsreviews.com/content/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=5471&Itemid=36
RECLAIMING ISIS (Selena Blake)
Four Lips from Two Lips Reviews
Rafe and Tristin are perfect heroes for this story.in true love there is no
judgment and that there is always room for growth and change.
http://www.twolipsreviews.com/content/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=5470&Itemid=36
THE JOURNEY (Violet Summers)
Four & ½ Diamonds from Got Erotic Romance?
Dathan has been drawn to Miach since the first time he saw him. He wants Miach
even more now. The cast of characters is wonderful.seriously hot.
http://goteroticromance.blogspot.com/2010/09/queens-of-merab-journey-by-violet.html
UNITED PASSION (Aubrey Ross)
Reviewed by Joyfully Reviewed
This world of shape-shifters and the humans who affect their lives is a complex
story full of excitement and adventure.thrilling and sexy.
http://www.joyfullyreviewed.com/new-reviews/united-passion-by-aubrey-ross
Monday, September 13, 2010
Pelota! A Basque-Inuit Love Story by Sarah Black
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http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1451
Blurb:
Oliver is obsessed with all things Basque, and Jack is Inuit in his heart. But even the ancient Basque and Inuit managed to fall in love. In the abandoned Basque whaling camp at Red Bay, off the coast of Labrador, the two young researchers find their common ground in a game of pelota.
Even the ancient Basques and the Inuit managed to fall in love -- especially with a game of pelota in the mix.
Excerpt:
Pelota! A Basque-Inuit Love Story
Sarah Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Sarah Black
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 guy that walked in must have been about his age, with a native cast to his eyes and black hair that was standing up every which a way from the wind. He nodded to Oliver. "You the Basquo?"
Oliver nodded, and he walked over and introduced himself. "Jack Brown. I'm here with the Inuit team from University of BC. You're from Boise State?"
"Are you Inuit?"
Jack shook his head. "I had a Japanese grandmother. But I am the top graduate Inuit researcher in the entire department! When this placement came open for a researcher, my professors didn't even consider anyone else!"
"Hey, me too! I think I got this job because I read and write Euskara. That's the Basque language. What's your specialty?"
"Inuit art."
"Cool."
"The Inuit artifacts are below the Basque artifacts. You know what that means, right?"
Oliver frowned at him. "It's not any great news that the Inuit were here first."
"Here first and last, brother. You won't find many Basques in Red Bay today."
Oliver had been about to share a precious chorizo with this asshole! Well, he could go chew on some whale blubber. Oliver turned away, stretched out on his bed.
"You're not coming to the site?"
"I'm taking a nap," Oliver said. "Jet lag."
When Jack left, stomping harder than he needed to across the bare plank floor, Oliver sat up and studied the dorm. It looked to him like he and Jack were the sole cowboys. Jack had his bed on the bottom, and was using the top bunk to store his gear. Oliver took a quick look. It seemed Jack was an artist, carving whales out of pieces of wood. They looked like the animals you would see on totem poles. He had a couple hanging up on the walls around his bed.
Oliver looked closer. Each carving was a circle, and the whale was swimming inside the circle. The wood was carved and stained to show water, sun, air, and the details of the whales were so exact Oliver could name them: killer whales, right whales, bowheads and humpbacks, blues and fins and sperm whales. He knew the Basque whalers had driven the rights and the bowheads nearly to the brink of extinction in the waters off Labrador. He felt somehow these carvings of whales were a reproach. "They just came looking for cod," he said, and turned away from the beautiful carvings.
Oliver got out his Ikurrina, hung it from the top bunk so it fell down over his bed like a curtain. The room immediately looked brighter. He unpacked his gauntlets and his pelota ball, unpacked his Euskara grammar text, taped up a map of the beautiful homeland, Euskal Herria. Oliver sighed, lay back down. The place felt warmer, home-like. He could stand it, he thought, as long as Inuit-boy kept to his side of the dorm.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1451
Labels:
Contemporary/Guilty Pleasures,
GLBT,
Hot Flash,
Sarah Black
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Mystic U: Final Exams by Julia Talbot
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Blurb:
Danny, Lee and Heather are still trying to make sense of their relationship, and of the problems brewing in the pack. Add in the end of the semester and decisions about what to do once school is over, and Danny figures his life is pretty much in the weeds.
Pack alpha Logan thinks Danny has no idea what trouble looks like. He knows it comes in the form of a prissy anthropology professor from Mystic U who thinks it's her job to tell Logan how to run his pack. Allie thinks Logan is all wrong in the way he's dealing with the man who's causing all the problems, and she thinks Logan needs to listen before it's too late. Will she get her way, or will the Wolf Creek pack end up with a failing grade?
Excerpt:
Mystic U: Final Exams
Julia Talbot
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Julia Talbot
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Logan surveyed the assembled men, noting the age and disposition of each one. He knew each of them well, knew their idiosyncrasies and their loyalties. He knew their scents, too. None of them were the werewolf who was causing trouble within the pack. None of them were a potential assassin. Which made them perfect for what he wanted to do.
"Thanks for coming tonight, guys," he said in his best pack alpha voice. "I need your help."
A murmur went through the group, but no one really spoke up yet. It was an honor for the pack alpha to ask for a man's help and they all knew it, even if it made them nervous enough that the scent of unease was sharp and acrid.
"Someone is attacking members of our pack. I'm sure you all know that Gage got shot last moon." That had made him so angry that he'd torn up the clearing himself, looking for any clue about who might have been there.
"Yeah, but that was a human, right?" That came from one of the younger men, a strong black wolf who Logan hadn't gotten to know very well yet.
"It was, yes. The problem is that whoever put him up to it is one of us."
Another, louder murmur went up, but Logan forestalled it with one raised hand. He had the proof from Danny's dorm room. Maybe one of these men would recognize the scent. "I can prove it, which is why I need your help. Someone has to know who this guy is. Someone has to recognize the scent. Once we know, I need your help to hunt his ass down." He could see skepticism out there, but more than one of the pack men nodded. They had to protect their own.
"Just tell us what we need to do," the young one said, speaking up again, which was surprising and impressive.
"Well, first I need you to come smell this..."
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1448
Labels:
Bisexual and More,
Julia Talbot,
Menage,
Mystic U Series,
Paranormal,
Werewolves
Friday, September 10, 2010
Dire Wolves: Silence by Lena Austin
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1447
Blurb:
“One funeral wasn’t enough for you?” said the kidnapper’s note…
Deafened in an attempted murder, Detective Cameron Douglas is involuntarily retired from the force, despite his willingness to continue with the investigation of the murder of the mayor’s secretary. Now, it’s personal.
ENT therapist Noel Miller is a vampire with a few scars of his own. He wants to be more than Cam’s interpreter and instructor in deaf culture. He could help Cam, if only the werewolf will let him into his life and heart.
Then the murderer strikes again. Right at Cam. Excerpt:
“Danse Macabre” was a lousy choice for a ring tone, but Detective Cameron Douglas always thought about it when he had the least amount of time to change the ring to something else. The tune was the last he’d ever hear. Cam didn’t know that sad fact, or he’d have changed the ring sooner. Cam snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open as soon as he saw it was his boss, Lt. Kraynak. “Hey, Mark! You caught me just leaving the mayor’s office.” “Yeah?” Mark’s voice always sounded nervous, but at that moment, he sounded as squeaky as a girl. Cam always wondered if Mark was as closet gay as Cam himself. “How’d it go?”Cam sighed. The investigation into the death of the mayor’s secretary, Margaret Lund, was supposed to be kept very quiet and low-key. “We got the blood from her apartment at the lab, looking for DNA. They seem to be consistent with the defensive marks found on her body despite floating around in the St. John’s River for a while. I’ve got a few good leads.” He had to be vague. Cam couldn’t exactly tell his boss he was a werewolf and he’d caught an odd, masculine scent in Margaret’s apartment. He knew any sort of masculine odor didn’t belong in that apartment because Margaret and his mother had been lovers for over twenty years. Not exactly what you want the whole world to know. Mom had been in the closet all her life, and he wasn’t about to out her when she was mourning “Aunt Maggie’s” death. Dad would turn over in his grave, the day care she’d run for fifteen years would close, and her life would be in ruins. What she and Maggie had enjoyed just wasn’t ever going to be public, and that wasn’t admissible evidence anyway. He could see it now. Him, on the witness stand. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m a werewolf you see, and I sniffed this odor…” He winced, even to himself. “I don’t like it, Cam. You shouldn’t be on this case. Ms. Lund was your mother’s best friend. You could be called prejudiced in court.” Mark popped another gumball in his mouth. Cam heard it rattle against his teeth before it crackled as he chewed it into oblivion. Mark’d been trying to quit smoking again, and kept a gumball bank on his desk. “I don’t like it, either, Mark. Where His Honor got the idea I’d be the only detective who could do the job is beyond me.” Cam was in sight of his car at last. The covered parking garage across the street from City Hall was a piece of shit like all the rest of downtown. Half the security cameras didn’t work at the best of times, and the roof leaked whenever it rained. So where was he parked? On the roof. In the rain. Of course. So he was wet. It was Florida. Not like he would melt. He was a werewolf, not a witch, and this wasn't Hollyweird. The beep in his ear made him jump, and the caller ID told him it was Mom. "Hey, I'm at my car. Hang on a sec." Cam flipped over to his mother’s call and sat down on a bench about fifty feet from his car, in the shelter covering the elevator. "Hi, Mom." He frowned and noticed the hood of his car was slightly ajar. That was odd. He distinctly remembered changing the oil the previous Sunday and slamming the hood closed because he hated working in the hot sun. He never heard her answer. Hell, he never heard anything except the biggest boom on the planet.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1447
“Danse Macabre” was a lousy choice for a ring tone, but Detective Cameron Douglas always thought about it when he had the least amount of time to change the ring to something else. The tune was the last he’d ever hear. Cam didn’t know that sad fact, or he’d have changed the ring sooner. Cam snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open as soon as he saw it was his boss, Lt. Kraynak. “Hey, Mark! You caught me just leaving the mayor’s office.” “Yeah?” Mark’s voice always sounded nervous, but at that moment, he sounded as squeaky as a girl. Cam always wondered if Mark was as closet gay as Cam himself. “How’d it go?”Cam sighed. The investigation into the death of the mayor’s secretary, Margaret Lund, was supposed to be kept very quiet and low-key. “We got the blood from her apartment at the lab, looking for DNA. They seem to be consistent with the defensive marks found on her body despite floating around in the St. John’s River for a while. I’ve got a few good leads.” He had to be vague. Cam couldn’t exactly tell his boss he was a werewolf and he’d caught an odd, masculine scent in Margaret’s apartment. He knew any sort of masculine odor didn’t belong in that apartment because Margaret and his mother had been lovers for over twenty years. Not exactly what you want the whole world to know. Mom had been in the closet all her life, and he wasn’t about to out her when she was mourning “Aunt Maggie’s” death. Dad would turn over in his grave, the day care she’d run for fifteen years would close, and her life would be in ruins. What she and Maggie had enjoyed just wasn’t ever going to be public, and that wasn’t admissible evidence anyway. He could see it now. Him, on the witness stand. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m a werewolf you see, and I sniffed this odor…” He winced, even to himself. “I don’t like it, Cam. You shouldn’t be on this case. Ms. Lund was your mother’s best friend. You could be called prejudiced in court.” Mark popped another gumball in his mouth. Cam heard it rattle against his teeth before it crackled as he chewed it into oblivion. Mark’d been trying to quit smoking again, and kept a gumball bank on his desk. “I don’t like it, either, Mark. Where His Honor got the idea I’d be the only detective who could do the job is beyond me.” Cam was in sight of his car at last. The covered parking garage across the street from City Hall was a piece of shit like all the rest of downtown. Half the security cameras didn’t work at the best of times, and the roof leaked whenever it rained. So where was he parked? On the roof. In the rain. Of course. So he was wet. It was Florida. Not like he would melt. He was a werewolf, not a witch, and this wasn't Hollyweird. The beep in his ear made him jump, and the caller ID told him it was Mom. "Hey, I'm at my car. Hang on a sec." Cam flipped over to his mother’s call and sat down on a bench about fifty feet from his car, in the shelter covering the elevator. "Hi, Mom." He frowned and noticed the hood of his car was slightly ajar. That was odd. He distinctly remembered changing the oil the previous Sunday and slamming the hood closed because he hated working in the hot sun. He never heard her answer. Hell, he never heard anything except the biggest boom on the planet.
Monday, September 06, 2010
Night Critters Collection by Lena Austin and Tuesday Richards
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Blurb:
When hybrids collide with a wolf pack, love and laughter are just the beginning.
The Thornburn Pack was normal, once. Normal for werewolves, anyway.
Then they began to fall in love with mixed breeds like a Chuskie (Half Husky, Half Chihuahua -- don't ask how), a fiery Goth half-angel, a foo-dog/dragon, and an angry fairy with a shotgun.
Excerpt:
Must Love Dogs
Lena Austin & Tuesday Richards
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Lena Austin & Tuesday Richards
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.
With aching slowness, Corbin pulled down the zipper of her minimalist jumpsuit, designed to hug every curve of her body. She'd bought the jumpsuit with Corbin in mind, and he seemed to appreciate the effort on his behalf. His lips followed the zipper's slow trail down, licking and nibbling every inch revealed. "Did I mention how much I love this suit you sprayed on?"
Roni gasped and wriggled beneath him. The tiny bites and soothing licks, moving slowly down to her dripping pussy, made the anticipation increase to unimaginable levels. Most guys hopped on with minimal attention to her needs and rode her like a racehorse doing the two-minute mile. Not Corbin! The human was a master of the slow, sensual lovemaking most women dreamed of. "You're showing me just fine."
Corbin chuckled softly at her moaned answer. He continued to pull the zipper down past her hip joint, but stopped its progress midway to her knee. There, his lips worked their way to the soft flesh on the inside of Roni's thigh. "Open for me, baby."
Obediently, Roni spread herself before him, helplessly caught in her need for his tongue or his cock. She didn't give a rat's ass, as long as she got relief from the rumbling volcano inside her. She could feel her skin heating, knowing her fur was showing and unable to stop it. She just prayed her shaved pussy would be enough to keep the virtually hairless human aroused. “Corbin...”
Her zipper slid down to her knee, exposing more of her flesh. Corbin's hot mouth attacked her pussy like he was a hungry predator. His sensual hum vibrated up her entire body.
Her delighted shudders echoed his hum, and her entire focus narrowed to how his tongue scraped across her swollen clit, and his chin ground into her flowing pussy. One of her hands crept downward and pulled apart her labia to give him full access.
Corbin responded to her silent plea by delving even deeper into his treat. If she'd been an ice cream cone he'd have been swirling his tongue to relish every bit, fueling a thousand fantasies of every woman in view. As it was, he was all hers, and he was a master at his art.
Roni had no warning. Her body stilled only for a second, an eternity of waiting before she exploded. Her back arched, and she clawed the rug to hang on to sanity. Roni screeched his name, helpless and caught in the force of her orgasm.
Her human lover wasted no time. He knelt upright and wiped his chin of her juices with an evil grin of triumph. Had he been a werewolf, such an expression would have been a serious challenge to her as a born Alpha Bitch. Then, he ripped her new jumpsuit to shreds with his bare hands.
The loss Roni counted as a small one. She'd buy another. She restrained herself from the urge to go completely furry and demand a chase in the woods. Poor primate that he was, he'd never scent her out, much less catch her and tame her as an Alpha Male claimed his mate. What a shame. He came so close to perfection, Roni almost howled in despair.
Corbin closed his eyes for a moment and shuddered. He bit his lip and took a deep breath. His dark eyes opened, and he grabbed her ankles. Before Roni could even squeak, he put her feet on his shoulders and hauled her bodily across the carpet until his cock nestled against her still throbbing pussy. "C'mere!"
The Chuskie in her obeyed before the thinking woman caught on. Roni blessed her daily sit-ups and came upward to put her arms around his neck. Seamlessly, she slid down on his cock and fell backwards toward the carpet.
Corbin's strong arms saved her from a nasty bump on the head and gently lowered her back now that he was firmly entrenched inside her. Again, he shuddered, perhaps to avoid coming too soon. He put his hands on her thighs as his brace. "Ready, baby?"
Unable to speak, Roni nodded and grabbed the carpet once more. She'd be at his mercy, and unless she wanted a serious rug burn on the parts not still covered by the remains of her jumpsuit, she had to hang on tight.
The first thrust rocked her back into orgasm. Roni clawed the carpet. Again and again, each thrust shoved her further across the Oriental rug. Ana was going to kill her, but Roni didn't give a royal damn. She howled her lover's name. "Cor-wor-wor-woo-woo!" God, Roni hoped she didn't sound like an idiot.
Excerpt from Must Love Dogs
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1439
Sunday, September 05, 2010
Long Time Coming by Emma Ray Garrett
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Genre: Paranormal, Guilty Pleasures
Themes: Ménage, Bisexual and More
Sleeping with your partner and the hired help probably isn't the best idea. Right?
Blurb:Henley Marks wants nothing more than some personal time with her business partner, Will Atkins, and their inside man, a Felix named Link. However, if her PI business is going to continue turning a profit, sleeping with her partner and the hired help probably isn't the best idea.
Will and Link have had about as much sexual frustration as they can handle. Both men want Henley in their bed more than their next breaths. And they have a plan to get her there.
But when the two men Henley is hot for finally get her between a rock and a hard place, will the outcome be worth its long time coming? Or will it ruin everything the three of them have built?
How about a fabulous ménage excerpt?
***
“This could go so bad.” Henley turned her head, watching as Will settled beside her.
“But it could be so good. And I, for one, think the benefit outweighs the risk.” Link scootched closer and lifted his hand above the vee of her silk blouse.
Will’s breath tickled her ear and Henley shivered, her eyelids fluttering, her stomach flip-flopping with desire.
“Damn, I hope I survive this.” Henley sighed the words, but both men heard her loud and clear.
“Thank God.” Will leaned over her, his pine and earth colored eyes filling her vision.
Link purred and Henley felt the tip of his claw brush against her chest, just above her blouse. She felt him hook the material against the razor-sharp edge and the sound of cloth rending never sounded so erotic.
“No bra? Fuck, Henley.”
Link’s aroused groan danced over the newly exposed, and tightly budded, nipple of her left breast. She shuddered, but couldn’t look away from the swirling hunger in Will’s eyes. “Kiss me.” She lifted her hand to the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to hers.
The first touch of his mouth was fireworks, cotton candy, Christmas morning, everything fabulous Henley could imagine. Will’s lips were warm and firm, not too full or too thin. His skin was soft, the muscles shifting under her caress when she tugged with purpose, wanting more of his mouth, more of his lips, just more.
She felt Link shift beside her and then her dress slacks and panties were jerked from her body. She gasped against Will’s mouth, her lips parting, and his tongue slipped inside, confident, knowing. Henley moaned as she moved to wrap more of her arms around Will’s body, his strong shoulders bunching beneath against her grasp.
“You’re as beautiful as I knew you’d be.” Link’s voice deepened, the sound low and dark.
Henley moaned again when she felt the first brush of the Felix’s skin against her own. His large hands encircled her ankles then slid upward. He teased the backs of her knees as he passed them, then applied gentle pressure against her inner thighs, asking without words for Henley to let him closer to the pulsing, wet, wanting core of her body.
Will’s mouth slipped from hers as he sat back to take in her bared form. She let him go, allowing her arms to fall to the bed above her head. She felt each man’s gaze as a caress, their intense stares stroking over the full mounds of her breasts, down her torso. Neither of them seemed turned off by the gentle swell of her tummy or the plump flesh of her full ass. She knew the moment their gazes touched on the smooth, hairless skin of her mons.
Henley moaned and spread her thighs a bit more and shivered at the animalistic growl that spilled from Link. Will groaned as he grazed his index finger along the slick, swollen lips of her sex. His touch searched for the heart of her and when the tip of his finger pressed into her body, Henley cried out and Will uttered a harsh, primal epithet.
“Fuck. Link, she’s tight. So tight my finger’s stretching her pussy. And she’s so fucking wet.” Will stroked deeper.
“God.” Henley’s head spun. She’d never heard such frank sexual things from a lover. Will’s words only served to make her even hotter, wetter.
He added a second finger, burrowing those long, strong fingers deep between her legs. It felt so good.
***
Labels:
Bisexual and More,
Emma Ray Garrett,
Menage,
Paranormal
Saturday, September 04, 2010
Viking Seductions: Blood Slave by Brannan Black
Viking Seduction: Blood Slave |
| by Brannan BlackCover art: Reneé George |
| ISBN: 978-1-59596-815-9 |
| Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure |
| Theme(s): Vampires |
| Series: Viking Seduction |
| Length: Novella |
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1450
Blurb:
Kierra's been trying to get Dekker's attention since they first met. His Nordic good looks and old world charm send shivers of heat straight through her every time she sees him.
An invitation to a vampire-themed rave seems like just the thing to help him see her as more than a friend -- until she discovers it's not just a theme. And now she's tangled up in a world she thought only existed in romance novels -- only these vampires are far from hunky knights in shining armor.
It's the twenty-first century. Who keeps slaves anymore? Other than really, really old vampires...
Excerpt:
Viking Seduction: Blood Slave
Brannan Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Brannan Black
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 saw Nate's big 4x4 headed around front. Not wanting to have to fight my way in, I squeezed between a couple buildings and slipped down the alley behind the warehouse. Shutting the bike off, I rolled into the shadows.
Muffled curses and a woman's scream reached my sensitive ears. Son of a bitch. Kierra!
Ferine's muffled voiced goaded me. "Go ahead, fresh blood. No one who can hear you will care." I clenched my jaw, listening to his sickening whine. "You're my gift to the gathering tonight. Come on, mustn't keep them waiting."
I hurried around to the back door and twisted the handle. Locked. A harder twist did nothing to budge it. Damn them, they'd beefed up their security.
A rusting pile of old pipe lay nearby. Perfect. I swung once against the doorknob. Both pipe and knob shattered in a spray of metal. I kicked the door open with what was left of the pipe in hand, ready to strike, but no one guarded the back door, which led to a crowded storeroom. Guess I should be glad he was so damn cocky.
Earsplitting techno music covered any sounds I made. I tossed the pipe aside and tested the inner door. Locked, but nothing special. One good twist and it broke. I stalked down an empty hall toward the central room. It paid to know the layout of your rival's hangouts. Hallways split off, leading to offices, safe rooms and stairs down to where they kept their human cattle. But I figured Ferine would still be up front where he could show off.
By the time I reached the main room, I could hardly hear myself, much less anyone else over the loud music. Pausing in the shadows of the hall, I closed my eyes to sniff. There, a faint scent of fear. Had to be her.
The crowd in the main room didn't pay any attention to me. The vamps were too busy feeding and screwing, and the mortals getting off being drained. Idiot bite junkies.
Still I stuck to the edges of the crowd, looking over bobbing heads for any sign of Ferine and Kierra. Her scream came from an alcove to my right. I shoved a few bodies out of my way, not caring what or who they were.
Bursting in, I saw Ferine had her pinned to the blanket-strewn platform at the back of the room. I grabbed his collar and shoulder and spun him into the wall. I spared only a glance at Kierra to make sure he hadn't bitten her yet.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my claim?" I lunged, pinning Ferine to the wall with my forearm. He could almost look me in eye, being just shy of my six foot one, but he'd never carried much muscle on his slight frame. Me, well, I used to be a Viking. Nuff said.
Ferine bared his fangs at me. "Fuck off, book boy. She's not marked, means she's fair game. And since I brought her here, she's mine first. Get in line."
I shoved harder, driving breath from the other man. I wanted to remind him just how much stronger I am. "You know damn good and well I've been seeing her for over three months."
"Three months and not a mark on her. Fair game," Ferine spat back. "Get off me, prick." He struggled, trying to dislodge me. I hissed a warning through my fangs.
The crowd parted to allow Adriana through. She looked like she belonged in a corporate boardroom with her grey silk suit and carefully coifed blond hair. Her perfect lips drew together in a little moue of discontent.
"You summon me, Dekker, and then don't even have the courtesy to greet me?" Her voice slid from her lips like warm honey, sweet and hypnotic.
I stepped back, letting Ferine go, and offered her a slight nod of respect. "Forgive me, Lady Adriana, I was indeed rude. But had I waited, the matter would have gotten out of hand."
I glanced over at Kierra, who'd plastered herself in the back corner, as far from us as she could get. Her amber eyes looked like saucers, and the pallor of fear gave her normally tan face a sallow look.
"I see. So this is the mortal in question?" She looked Kierra over with a slow languid gaze. "Not my type, but comely. I am surprised, Dekker. Didn't think she'd be your type either. At least not for a blood slave."
Ferine swaggered closer. "He's no right to her. She's not marked and I brought her here."
I turned to Kierra, trying to keep my anger under wraps. She'd crawled as far back on the platform as she could get. The red and black corset barely covered her ample breasts, especially with her chest heaving in near panic. Her honey gold hair swept around to one side and spilled down her chest. A few strands had come loose in her fight with Ferine. She managed to get most of her long, shapely legs under the short black pixy skirt. Damn, she looked good. I felt my cock growing hard despite the situation.
"Where's that choker I gave you? Your message said you'd be wearing it."
Her hand flew to her neck. "I, I don't know. I had it. What the hell is going on here?"
I couldn't spare the time to respond to her right now. And the others might take it as a sign of weakness. I knew Ferine would.
"Well, without it, there's no proof he's claimed her. And I brought her. Mine." Ferine crossed his arms defiantly across his chest and arched an arrogant brow at me.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1450
Friday, September 03, 2010
Codename Courtesan: Autumn by Aubrey Ross
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http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1443
Blurb:
General Ra'jen Noirte returns from combat to find a woman bound, abused, and abandoned. His healing touch soon turns to hunger as she stirs beneath his hands. With milk white skin and flame red hair, she tempts him to abandon his responsibilities and indulge long-neglected needs. Every kiss, every caress distracts from his mission, and the fate of the universe depends on his success.
Autumn never dreamed a man could be as captivating as Ra'jen. On the surface he is deadly aggression, but she has glimpsed his tormented soul. Though he serves the enemy, she suspects they have similar goals. More than her heart is on the line as they form an uneasy alliance.
Excerpt:
Codename Courtesan: Autumn
Aubrey Ross
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Aubrey Ross
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.
Naked except for a black lace thong, Autumn knelt on a mirror-topped table with her wrists bound in leather cuffs and suspended above her head. A blood red scarf had been slipped between her teeth, crossed at the back of her head, and then tied to cover her mouth completely. She stared straight ahead, focusing past the leering stares and lust-hardened expressions of the soldiers crowded into the briefing room. None of these men were allowed to touch her. She was a whipping girl, part of the entertainment, yet not available for sexual interaction.
"Isn't she beautiful, gentlemen?" Rebecca purred. The short, braided strands of her velvet whip whooshed as she brought it down in a dramatic arc, barely missing her thigh. "Her skin is perfect and so white. It's almost a shame to mark her." She laughed, the sound light and playful. "Almost."
Even knowing the blow was coming didn't prepare Autumn for the sting. Rebecca slapped the strands against Autumn's tight belly and she inhaled, clenching her teeth against the gag. Bright red marks lined her fair skin as heat spread through her abdomen, collecting between her thighs. Training to become a pleasure ambassador had been intensive and long. Autumn had discovered many unexpected facts about her body. One of the most surprising had been her affinity to pain.
"It's all so sad for poor Autumn," Rebecca went on. "I do anything I want, I misbehave constantly, and she receives my punishment." She whipped one of Autumn's breasts and then the other, spreading the heat and anticipation. The older woman's control kept the strokes sharp enough to draw blood to the surface without breaking the skin.
Autumn's nipples peaked as her body processed the stimulation. Rebecca grabbed the edge of the wheeled table and carefully turned it around. The cables securing Autumn's arms twisted, drawing them even higher.
"And look at this ass." Rebecca squeezed one cheek, her long nails dragging across the smooth skin as she pulled her hand away. "Have you ever seen an ass more in need of spanking?" She slapped Autumn hard with her open hand and waited for her skin to react. "A perfect handprint. Very good, Autumn. You're the best whipping girl I've ever had."
Muffled chuckles peppered the room, but Autumn tuned out her surroundings. A large mirror had been set up near the wall allowing the men to see her front while Rebecca worked on her back. Rebecca spanked her other cheek, making it appear as if bloody hands had squeezed her ass. It was all orchestrated, a practiced routine they had perfected in training.
Rebecca ran the whip handle up the inside of Autumn's thigh and rubbed it against the scrap of lace covering her folds. "She's wet, boys. Shall I see if I can make her come?"
"I can make her come," one of the soldiers bragged. "Let me touch her, and she'll be dripping in a minute or less."
Rebecca's laugh was low and sensual this time. "She's dripping now." She slipped her fingers inside Autumn's panties and gathered some cream. "See?"
"Rip off the thong," someone else suggested. "Let her juices pool on top of the table."
Staring into the mirror, Autumn tried to catch Rebecca's gaze. They weren't supposed to deviate from the routine. It was designed to excite while keeping Autumn objectified, unattainable.
"Sorry, boys. The thong's there to remind you that she's not cleared for fucking."
Autumn's relieved sigh was premature. Rebecca swung the whip with punishing force, blanketing the small of her back with needling pain. Autumn gasped and arched, but the next lash was even harder. The whip was made of velvet, for God's sake! How was Rebecca making it hurt so badly?
Unlike the teasing strokes Rebecca had delivered to her breasts, these lashes seared and burned. Autumn twisted, writhing helplessly, her screams muffled by the gag. Tears blurred her vision then anger flared through her shock.
She demanded that Rebecca stop, but her words were garbled by the material between her teeth. Why was Rebecca doing this? They were supposed to be a team!
The whip connected again and again, the surrounding noise escalating with each swing. Cheers and whistles, and the occasional gasp as blood trailed down Autumn's back. Shame crept through her anger. Did they believe she deserved this pain? Why was no one questioning Rebecca's viciousness?
"She's had enough." A deep voice cut through the others and the next lash never came.
Autumn shifted her weight and fire rolled from her shoulders to the bend of her knees. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes, and she moaned.
"Poor, precious Autumn," Rebecca whispered bitterly. "Are you still too good to fuck?" She threw the whip onto the tabletop and stepped away. "Come on, boys. That always makes me horny. Who wants to go first?"
Three of the soldiers rushed forward. Autumn watched them in the mirror through a haze of pain. One of the men reached for the whip, but Rebecca stopped him. "No one touches her but me."
Autumn whimpered at the belated mercy. He stepped back, but remained near the table, staring up at Autumn as he rubbed the bulge in the front of his pants.
There were five pleasure ambassadors scattered about the room, but there were eleven men. Autumn grasped the cables connected to her wrist cuffs, suddenly wishing she were not bound. Even with two embassy guards overseeing the action, they were outnumbered.
The trainers had assured Autumn abuse was not tolerated. The embassies were the only game in town, so no one in the Protectorate wanted to be blacklisted.
The Protectorate. Autumn shuddered. They were the occupying army, the henchmen for the mysterious Gathosians who now controlled Earth. In a few short months the Protectorate had reduced Earth to a subjugated mining colony. They struck North America first, subduing the "superpower" as an example to the rest of the world.
The first designer virus targeted those not strong enough to work. The second wiped out most of the female population. The third killed anyone who had not yet gone through puberty. The Gathosians wanted their workforce unencumbered by sentimental distractions, and they weren't interested in longevity. Once the oceans had been stripped of their salt, the Gathosians would move on to another planet.
The women and children unlucky enough to survive the pandemic were rounded up and taken to training camps, while the devastated men were forced to deal with the bodies. Hundreds of millions of bodies.
Allowing her physical pain to burn through the memories, Autumn returned to the present and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. This situation wasn't much better than the devastation she'd been remembering.
Laborer or whore. Those were the choices left for human females. Or breeder, the most degrading choice of all. Even if she'd chosen to subject herself to the back-breaking work and toxic environment of the sodium refineries, she would have been fighting off the unwanted advances of her coworkers. Rape had become so common it was no longer considered a crime. Females were so rare it was unthinkable to go anywhere without protection. The human concept of morality had been eroded by this new reality.
Rebecca's rhythmic cries drew Autumn's attention to her tormentor. The first soldier had bent her over the conference table and was fucking her from behind. Autumn could see everything clearly in the mirror. Rebecca braced herself on her forearms so the second man could play with her breasts while he waited for his turn to fuck her. The first soldier grasped her hips and slammed into her fast and hard, focused entirely on his pleasure.
Autumn gritted her teeth and looked away from Rebecca, but everywhere she looked it was more of the same. She had no idea why the "fuck-fest" had been arranged for these soldiers. Had they performed unusually well, or had they simply been in the field for an unusually long period of time? The briefing room wasn't large, so no one bothered with modesty. Cocks were sucked and ambassadors fucked in every conceivable position.
And Autumn found it all repulsive.
Was this really her fate? Not every party requested a whipping girl, so eventually she would have to allow members of the Protectorate access to her body. Her blood ran cold at the thought. Could she really shut down her mind and become a passive vessel for the monsters that had ravaged her world?
Soldier One came with a shuddering moan and immediately pulled out of Rebecca's pussy. His buddy took his place before Rebecca had a chance to straighten her back.
"She's so fucking slippery," Soldier Two complained. "I can hardly feel her cunt."
"So smear my cum on your cock and use her ass," Soldier One advised.
Rebecca adjusted her stance, giving Soldier Two a better angle as he pulled out of her pussy and penetrated her ass.
Autumn closed her eyes, tension knotting her stomach. It was all so mechanical, so impersonal, so... meaningless. How did the ambassadors stand it night after night?
"You've never done it. Have you?" Soldier Three faced her again, dark eyes gleaming with desire. "You're always the whipping girl. No one ever gets to fuck you."
She glared at him, saved from replying by the gag covering her mouth.
"She's new," Rebecca panted. "And she's the trainer's pet. Whatever Autumn wants, Autumn gets."
Soldier Two pulled Rebecca away from the table and urged her to her knees. "Come on, Bret. You can have her mouth."
Bret's dark gaze swept over Autumn with obvious longing then he skirted the table and joined his friends. Rebecca raised her head and parted her lips, taking Bret's engorged cock into her mouth. They passed her back and forth, one cock driving inward as the other pulled back.
The double doors on the far side of the room burst open and a red-faced soldier shouted, "Get them out of here! Noirte just set down!"
The men righted their uniforms as the ambassadors frantically gathered discarded clothing. Autumn yanked on the cuffs and cried out behind the gag, trying to draw anyone's attention.
Rebecca looked at her and smiled, a cruel bowing of her painted lips, and then she ran for the nearest exit.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1443
Monday, August 30, 2010
The Queens of Merab: The Journey by Violet Summers
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http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1446
Blurb:
Queen Temair and her Consorts may have won the first battle, but the war with the Male Rebellion is just beginning. Fyre Lord Miach and Rayne Lord Dathan, Temair's first two Consorts, must travel from their Queen's side to investigate charges of abuse against men at a village in the Fyre Lands. Alone together for the first time, the passion that's been simmering between the two men explodes, leading them on a journey of the body... and the heart.
Excerpt:
The Queens of Merab: The Journey
Violet Summers
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Violet Summers
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.
Miach settled more comfortably into the saddle and suppressed an irritated sigh. Last night had been the first he'd spent away from Temair since he'd bonded with her as Consort, and he'd hated it. Hated it. It hadn't helped that the rumors of abuse that had brought him out of the castle and across the countryside had proved to be true.
What had helped, surprisingly enough, was the presence of his fellow Consort.
Miach would have chosen to leave Dathan, Lord Rayne, behind with their wife for a number of reasons. There was the fact that, among the Consorts, Dathan was the only one whose magic was a match for Miach's own. At least that was the excuse he'd given their wife. But Temair had countered with the argument that her Aire Consort, Zevan, was a vicious and dirty fighter and made up in strategy what he lacked in experience. And, she'd commented from beneath raised brows, she wasn't a helpless female by any means. Which was true.
It was Earth Lord Elan, Temair's fourth Consort, who cornered Miach and called him on his attempted maneuvering. "You don't want to be alone with Dathan overnight," he'd rumbled in his resonant voice. Miach wanted to argue, but he couldn't. In his gentle, nonjudgmental way, Elan was right.
Miach and Dathan had been dancing around an attraction that baffled the Fyre Lord since even before Temair had chosen Dathan for her Second Consort. They'd finally acted on it -- up to a point -- in the Earth Lands, but Miach was still a bit uncomfortable with the bond. Not because Dathan was a male, but because Dathan had breached Miach's carefully constructed walls and forced his way into Miach's heart.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the sensation of being watched, but he didn't allow himself to turn and confront his observer. If he were to meet Dathan's gaze, he'd just be opening himself up to one of the Rayne Lord's smart-assed remarks. Instead he straightened his spine and tried to ignore the fact that Dathan's glowing blue gaze affected him like a physical caress.
"We need to stop." Miach suppressed a shiver at the sound of Dathan's velvety voice.
"We can make it home tonight," he countered, though he knew full well Dathan was correct. The journey to the small village on the outskirts of the Fyre Lands had only taken half a day, but the ensuing investigation, trial and sentencing had dragged late into the afternoon of the second day. Now, long past sunset, the men were still easily three or four hours from the castle, and it would be foolish to push the horses over unfamiliar terrain in the dark.
"Miach." Just his name in that touchable voice.
"Oh, fuck it." Miach gave in to the inevitable and pulled his horse to a stop.
Dathan, apparently knowing what was good for him for a change, was silent as they constructed a makeshift lean-to out of several dead branches and their saddle blankets. The amused smile on his face spoke volumes, though.
Horses groomed, fyre started, Miach was at loose ends. Dathan sprawled before the fyre, propped up on his elbows, one leg bent and listing slightly to the side, just enough to emphasize the bulge between his thighs. Miach wanted him. Wanted, wanted, wanted, and he was fucking pissed because he felt too awkward, too fucking shy, to make a move. Worse, he knew Dathan would welcome it, wanted him every bit as much.
The Rayne Lord's smile grew, and his tilted blue eyes danced with amusement as Miach wandered restlessly from horses to fyre to shelter and back.
"Come sit down, Consort. I promise not to jump on your delectable body." Laughter lurked in Dathan's voice, and Miach sent him a poisonous look, which his fellow Consort deliberately misinterpreted. "Oh," he asked, wide eyed and teasing, "did you want me to jump on you?"
Yes. Sacred elements, yes. Take the decision out of my hands. Miach growled, more at himself than at Dathan's teasing. Growled even more at the tender light that entered those sloe eyes.
Dathan rose, a ripple of golden skin in fine, thin wool breeches and an open cotton vest, and moved to stand in front of Miach. "Tell me what you want, Miach." His blue eyes were serious and intent. "You know you can have it." It was an echo of the words the Rayne Lord had spoken in the Earth Lands, and the memory zapped straight to Miach's balls, with an odd stop along the way to squeeze at his heart.
Looking into those eyes, Miach couldn't force out the truth, but he couldn't lie, either. "I want things to be easy," he muttered in compromise.
This time Dathan's laugh was amused, but empty of any mockery. "Oh, Consort, you are the least easy man I know." He laid a hand along Miach's jaw, and the heat seared him. "Not easy, but worth it. Tell me what you want, Miach," he repeated, stroking clever fingers down Miach's throat, sliding his hand around to cup Miach's neck, just holding, not pulling. "I need you to say the words."
Copyright 2010 Changeling Press, LLC http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1446
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Deep Space Encounters: Rescuing Natcha by Selena Blake
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Blurb:
Halyn's mission was simple. On paper. Travel to PrimeC, rescue Natacha, bring her back to Isis on Del Sorna. But he should have known that no mission goes exactly as planned, and no matter how prepared the spacemerc was, he was not prepared for Natacha. Or the feelings she inspired.
In tight quarters with a strange man, running from the Federation, Natacha goes into withdrawal from the gas on PrimeC. Isis says Natacha can trust this man, but she's not sure she can trust herself.
The more he tries to soothe her symptoms, the more passionate she becomes. Is her lust real... or just a side effect? And just how long can a man be expected to stay out of her bed when she keeps begging him to join her?
Excerpt:
Rescuing Natacha
Selena Blake
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Selena Blake
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 ray gun blast whizzed by Halyn West's right shoulder, and he spun and returned fire. The woman, a PrimeC soldier dressed in white, fell back against the wall, a gaping wound in her chest. The stench of fried flesh filled the ultra modern lounge, but he knew she wasn't alone. He dropped to one knee behind a low-slung sofa and took out two more PrimeC soldiers who hugged the walls of an adjoining corridor, his aim deadly.
Halyn closed himself off to the chaos reigning around him and focused on the shadows, using his gift to sense danger. His job was to get in, rescue Isis's friend Natacha, and get out. In one piece. But the Federation army was early. Four weeks early by the sounds of the ray gun blasts from the hallway behind him. The residents, women being brainwashed and held against their will, ran past him. They wore matching masks of confusion and terror, obviously stunned by the sudden appearance of armed soldiers and the ensuing gunfight.
When he didn't see any more enemy troops, he rose to his full height and started for the wide hallway before him. With all the frightened women heading for the hills, the hall was eerily quiet. So quiet that he wondered if he was walking into an ambush. But he sensed nothing. Holding a gun in each hand, he aimed one left and the other right, walking sideways, his back to the wall. He counted each door as he passed and when he came to the fifth one, he stopped, turned, and aimed in both directions again. Next to the door, a digital sign read Natacha & Isis. He used the handle of his weapon to smash in the computerized panel below the sign and the door opened instantly.
He shifted the weapon in his left hand to aim directly in front of him as he stepped into the small, dimly lit space. Tension rippled through him, and his old shoulder wound throbbed. The first room contained two gray chairs and a small center table. He stepped further into the space, and a feminine moan filled his ears.
He stepped right, his gaze sweeping the bedroom beyond. There on one of the single wide beds was a woman in the throes of a passionate dream. Eyes firmly shut, she lay twisted with the covers, her gown hiked up around her chest. She continued to moan as her hands roamed over her stomach, hips, and...
He swallowed hard. Isis was right. Natacha was chocolate in a vanilla world. Her skin was so beautifully dark against the stark white sheets. Her hair fanned around her, covering her pillow as she turned her head left, right, then left again.
Now was not the time to be transfixed but -- he stepped closer, lowering the gun in his right hand. She rubbed her clit with four fingers, and her thighs spread wide as her hips tipped upward. Halyn cursed the blood rushing to his cock. He'd wasted too much time already, standing here watching some woman get off in her sleep.
Fuck. Her middle finger dipped between the slick folds and her hips tilted further, giving him an incredible view of the innermost folds of her pretty pink cunt.
The tip of her finger thrust inside her pussy, and a husky gasp escaped her lips. His gaze drifted up her body, over the heavy breasts beneath the sheer gown, the dark nipples poking the fabric, to her face. She was beautiful. Sensual, with a wide succulent mouth he had an uncontrollable urge to kiss. But he couldn't. Not now. Now, he needed to get her out of this hellhole.
Tucking his guns back in the holsters, he adjusted his cock, giving it a firm squeeze before he started toward Natacha. He'd stop off somewhere once he got Natacha back to Isis and take care of the... tension.
As much as he hated to stop her show, halt her dream and ruin her orgasm, time was of the essence. Federation troops would be crawling over this whole compound in a few short minutes. He bent, tucking his arms beneath her writhing body, and lifted her high against his chest. Though it was warm inside the compound, her skin was icy against his. Her sweet scent filled his nose, and surprisingly, she didn't wake. Did they drug the women so they'd sleep? Or was her dream really that powerful?
Looking down at the soft O of her lips he wondered what... who she was dreaming about. Damn it, that didn't matter right now. He turned for the door and saw a Federation soldier dart past.
"Damn," he muttered and turned back toward the single square window between the two beds. Face the troops or take his chances on the ice?
Without hesitating, Halyn swung Natacha up onto his shoulder, set his gun to blast, and fired two shots. One at the top of the window and one at the bottom. Once the smoke died down, a gaping hole beckoned escape and a wall of icy air blasted him.
"Freeze."
Halyn whirled toward the soldier in the doorway. A single shot to the center of the other man's chest knocked him back into the hallway. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder, Halyn turned back to the window and surveyed the icy landscape. The drop to the ground was about the same height as he was.
This was going to hurt. But less than getting his ass shot. He jumped. The ice crunched beneath his feet, his shoulder screamed with pain, and Natacha came to life with a start. She screamed something he didn't understand, but the knee to his gut told him she wanted down.
"Hold on, honey." Struggling to stay upright on the slippery ground, he gathered his strength and started toward the end of the building. All he had to do now was get to his ship. Another knee to the gut knocked his breath from his lungs. He dropped his hand from her hip to curl behind her knees, immobilizing them. All he had to do, he corrected, was get to the ship, keep the girl calm, and not get shot. Or killed. Or kiss the girl.
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