Agency of Extraordinary Mates 2 Collection by Aubrey Ross and Stephanie Burke

Agency of Extraordinary Mates Vol. 2 (Collection)


by Aubrey Ross and Stephanie Burke and Willa Okati

Cover art: Karen Fox

ISBN: 978-1-60521-558-7

Genre(s): Paranormal, Collections

Series: Agency of Extraordinary Mates Multi-Author

Length: Collection

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Blurb:
Agency of Extraordinary Mates: Not your average dating service. This one caters to creatures of the ether... Weres, Vampires, Elves, Faeries, Satyrs, Incubi, and much more.

It's a world of fantasy, of lust and love, but most of all, it's a world of dreams-come-true for the lucky few who arrive on the pristine shores of Chimera Island...

Chelsea has a past she'd as soon forget... and two temptations she cannot resist. Erotic dreams come true in Aubrey Ross's Dichotomy.

Journalist Jamie seeks adventure and intrigue. His instincts are right -- he's the sorcerer Niko's erotic prey in Willa Okati's Under Your Spell.

Talcor, an Elemental Fae, is still a virgin. Chimera offers him a woman. Could he be -- straight? Join Talcor's quest in Stephanie Burke's Taboo.
Publisher's note: This collection is available in print.
 
Excerpt:
Agency of Extraordinary Mates Vol. 2 (Collection)


Excerpt from Dichotomy

Aubrey Ross

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 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.

Establishing a telepathic link with his sister, Ray Burton brought the tiered lecture hall into focus. Aurora fidgeted, obviously sensing his uninvited presence. Ray ignored the sunny salon physically surrounding him and concentrated on the images forming within his mind.

Is there something wrong with your video phone? she grumbled. I can stream her image to you.

And have Delano go off on me again? Ray shuddered. I don't think so. Delano had been furious when he'd opened last month's phone bill. Ever practical Delano hadn't seen the humor in the exorbitant charges. Look from side to side. Give me some perspective.

Despite her mental objection, Aurora swept the room with an assessing stare. She sat halfway up in the auditorium and slightly right of center. A perfect vantage point, but where was the subject of his curiosity?

Is she often late?

Nope. Laughter chimed through Aurora's tone. She must have known you were coming.

Before Ray could respond to her smartass remark, the door at the far end of the hall swung open.

Aurora closed her eyes.

That's not funny! Ray gave her the mental equivalent of a shake. Her lids lifted. A tall, broad-shouldered man walked across the room and set a stack of folders on the table centered in the presentation area. Ray groaned. Who the hell is he?

He's a grad student, used to play football, but wasn't good enough to turn pro. Now he's Professor Lamar's assistant.

Ray snorted. I never would have guessed.

Do you think she has him do more than grade papers?

Tension knotted Ray's gut at the thought. He had yet to meet Chelsea Lamar, but every instinct he possessed told him she was the one.

Yeah, Sam was certain too and look how that turned out. At this intensity, their telepathic link transmitted thoughts and emotions as well as images. If he tried to conceal his thoughts, Aurora would realize her comment upset him, so he let her feel his frustration, his restlessness. You better leave the final decision to Delano. He's still capable of thinking with his head.

As much as he hated to admit it, Aurora was right. He couldn't afford to be rash and reckless, even if those were his primary personality traits.

The door swung open again and Chelsea strode into the lecture hall. Ray's heartbeat accelerated and blood rushed to his groin. Aurora's description hadn't begun to do Chelsea justice. Her tailored slacks draped stylishly over curvaceous hips and an ivory silk blouse showcased her full breasts.

Damn. Why didn't you tell me she was so delectable?

I'm not much of a judge when it comes to female delectability.

He took control of Aurora's gaze and admired Chelsea's lush breasts. He could detect a lacy bra beneath the sheer silk and the faintest shadow of her nipples.

Cut it out! What if someone catches me staring at her boobs?

Ray eased off, focusing on Chelsea's heart-shaped face. Framed by sleek golden brown hair, her smooth skin glowed with a rosy blush. Slim nose, wide, thick-lashed gray-green eyes, each feature complemented the others.

"Sorry I'm late. My car died out on the Beltway." Her well modulated voice played over Ray's senses, caressing him, arousing him.

"Hello." Sam, Ray's brother, shook his chair, disrupting his concentration. "Is anybody in there?"

Ray eased out of Aurora's mind and the spacious salon refocused. His chair faced the massive windows looking out over the backyard. For generations the Burton family had occupied this house. Their unique needs made privacy necessary, not just preferable.

"Where were you just now?" Sam asked.

"Sneaking a peek at Chelsea Lamar."

A smile bowed Sam's lips. "Then you're thinking about doing it? Has Delano agreed?"

"Delano has no idea what I'm up to, and I have no intention of telling him."

"What?" Sam's incredulous expression made Ray laugh. "You have to tell him. Don't be ridiculous."

Ray stood and raked a hand through his hair. "He's been unapproachable since the debacle with Thane and Kelly. Not that he was especially congenial before."

"No one blames him for what happened. He tried to warn us. We wouldn't listen." Sam shook his head. Late afternoon sunlight shone in his wavy blond hair. "Convince him to conduct a Discernment. If I'd accepted --"

"He won't do it. He hasn't accessed any of his abilities since Thane went into seclusion. That's why my plan is our only hope."

"You're crazy. No, he'll go crazy. You can't spring this on him."

"You should see her, Sam. She's perfect. I'm not wasting this opportunity because Delano is in a snit."

Sam shook his head, scrubbing his chin with his hand. "There has to be a better way."

"Maybe. And maybe I'll turn gray waiting for Delano to pull his head out of his ass. My flight for Chimera leaves tomorrow morning. Delano will just have to deal."
 
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Hell's Angel by Delilah Hunt

Hell's Angel


by Delilah Hunt

Cover art: Marteeka Karland

ISBN: 978-1-60521-589-1

Genre(s): Paranormal, Dark Fantasy

Theme(s): Interracial

Length: Novella

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Blurb:
Thrown out of Heaven for a crime he didn't commit, Callum, a fallen angel turned demon, wants revenge. When an angelic beauty falls to the floors of Hell, the captain of Lucifer's army is torn between his need for vengeance and his lust for the bronze-skinned angel.Excerpt:


Forgoing her life in the heavens, Amara descends into the underworld in search of the demon who has captivated her thoughts. Instead of the warm welcome she anticipated, Amara finds herself a prisoner willing to risk it all for the love of a hardened demon.



Hell's Angel


Delilah Hunt

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Delilah Hunt

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.


Amara dipped her finger inside the crystalline bowl. A vivid display of copper and orange vapors swirled above the purified water. She pulled her finger back, her eyes widening in horror and curiosity at the forbidden underworld. Hell. Her wings fluttered and a mysterious tide of emotions welled inside her chest. Oh, but how she would love to be permitted to deliver a missive to the fiery underworld. She was a messenger angel, and so far the only messages she had been instructed to deliver were those from the Keepers of the Gate to the Guardian Angels, informing them when a new soul was due to arrive at Heaven's entrance.

Amara stifled a gasp when the vapors began to move, shifting into images. Her eyes skimmed the depiction, looking past the harried and tortured souls she could see twisting in their own agony. A demon turned the corner, stepping over one of the souls with his long legs. Her gaze settled and softened on him. Callum, the fierce captain of Lucifer's army. While Lucifer sat upon his throne ruling over the Underworld, it was Callum's duty to maintain order and prevent the countless number of souls from escaping their eternal damnation.

She leaned closer to the bowl and peered downward, memorizing every single detail about him. He wore black armor with spiked metal spaulders above his shoulders. The same armor protected his legs, and metallic boots wrapped his calves. His horns, thick and massive, curled off to the sides of his blond head.

If her best friend Reina knew she'd been sneaking peeks inside the forbidden realm, the eldest of the messenger angels would deny all access to her quarters. Amara's excuses of merely wishing to spend time with Reina would no longer cut it. Glancing backward, Amara checked to make sure the telltale sign of a portal was not being opened, signaling Reina's return. No traces of silver threads looping in the air. Good.

She returned her focus to Callum, knowing this was the closest she would ever get to the demon. What a sorry sight she made. A two hundred-year-old angel who had never traveled beyond the boundaries of the Pearly Gates captivated by the captain of the army that had once attempted to conquer Heaven.

"You're still here? I thought for sure you would have returned to your garden."

Flushing with guilt, Amara jumped away from the bowl and snapped her head to the side. Specks of silver shimmered around the auburn-haired angel. "I'm sorry, Reina. I lost track of the time." She raised her head, centering her eyes on the large bookshelf in the corner of the room. "Your books are all so fascinating."

Reina arched her eyebrow. "Only the books, Amara? Have you been using the vessel?"

"No!" Amara closed her eyes and struggled to breathe. Her tongue became heavy, and her nostrils flared, attempting to take in air. "I stole one glance." She wheezed. Her breathing returned to normal and the weight on her tongue lifted. "I was curious, Reina. Forgive me."

A shadow fell over Reina's face. "You didn't have to lie. We both know the painful consequences of doing so. I've known all along that you've been sneaking glances into Hell. Is it the demon Callum who has piqued your curiosity?"

She lowered her head a notch. "It is. I can't stop thinking about him, and I don't know how to control this feeling. Some days it's as if these emotions threaten to consume me. I wish to touch him, Reina. To look into his eyes and know that he can see into mine."

"It's called desire." Reina lounged on her green velvet chaise. "It will pass, and if it doesn't you will learn to live with it. There is nothing to be done about this feeling, Amara. The demons and every other being are free to act upon their desires. We are forbidden. Worse, to act upon such desires with a Hell-bound demon is an abomination. Take your mind from him. Callum would taint you in ways you're much too innocent to comprehend."

Amara nodded, thankful Reina had not admonished her by threatening to take the matter to the elders. "I'll try not to dwell on him. I know it is an impossible situation. An angel -- a mere messenger one, at that -- would be of no use to Lucifer's warrior. I'll take your advice."

Reina's face brightened and she patted Amara's shoulder. "You'll be saved a ton of heartache in the end."

Spreading her wings, Amara waved goodbye to her friend. She flew over the misty clouds that surrounded the realm. Soaring through the marble pillars separating her garden from that of the other angels, Amara allowed the reckless thoughts of Callum to float through her mind. Five months had passed since she'd first set sight on the mysterious demon. She'd seen him by accident after taking a look inside Reina's mysterious bowl. For days she'd spent every free minute scouring the ancient texts and tomes, seeking information about the demon. The only thing she'd found was a hand-drawn portrait of him in his heavenly glory, his large white wings outlined with silver. She knew he no longer possessed those angelic features; instead he had black wings curved upward at the tip, sharp as barbed wire.

Her knowledge of him and his time in the heavens was limited. The one thing she knew for sure was that he was one of the first angels created by the Decider of Chaos. He'd been an archangel, the highest order of angels in the heavens, revered for the single-minded focus on vanquishing all that stood in the way of the righteous path of the Decider.

"Amara!"

She pivoted toward the voice of her friend Sierra, frowning at the anxious look on the angel's face. "What's wrong?"

"Can you deliver a message for me to the Realm of the Fae?"

She nodded, thrilled at the chance of seeing outside Heaven. "Did you bring a portal with you?"

Sierra reached into her pouch, withdrawing a woven envelope. "Here." She handed the silver threads to Amara. "And do hurry, Amara. I was supposed to have delivered this in the morning."

Amara waved off the angel and then flicked the threads into the air. Her heart skipped a beat. The Realm of Fae was situated directly above the Hell dimension. She shook her head, pushing away the traitorous thoughts meandering through her mind. Deliver the message and return.

Stepping through the portal, Amara silently spoke the name of her destination. She arrived there immediately, delivering the envelope into the hands of a waiting faerie. She returned inside the gaping portal, and in a split-second decision, Amara whispered the one word, the only word forbidden in her travels. Hell.

The portal seemed to come to life, quaking all around her. She was lifted into the air and spun upside down, tumbling into an abyss. It was as if someone had snapped her wings in two and thrown her from the heavens. Her stomach plummeted, and a thick wave of fear rose inside her throat. Fire blazed around her and the pungent stench of sulfur invaded her nostrils. Amara kept falling until she landed with a hard thud on her side, her face hitting the soot-covered ground.

Groaning in pain, Amara tried to sit up, but found there was no need to. A rough hand dragged her off the dirt. "Inform the captain of our visitor."

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Dragon's Mate 1: Affairs of Dragons by Lena Austin

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Dragon's Mate 1: Affairs of Dragons

by Lena Austin

Cover art: Reneé George

ISBN: 978-1-60521-586-0

Genre(s): Action/Adventure, Dark Fantasy

Theme(s): Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Alternative Universe, Gay and Lesbian

Series: Dragon's Mate
Length: Novella

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Blurb:
Never meddle in the affairs of dragons…


For over a century, Jon's village has sacrificed a virgin to the dragon who lives in the mountain. This time, when they find Jon in a compromising position with a traveling player, Jon's the new sacrifice! 

Patch really isn't fond of the taste of human flesh. He’s enjoyed sending the virgin sacrifices off to start their new lives. But when he sees Jon beaten and trussed to the rock outside his cave, he decides he may just keep this sacrifice around -- as his mate.

Excerpt:
Dragon's Mate 1: Affairs of Dragons


Lena Austin

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Lena Austin



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.



Jonndre the Potter knelt before his temporary lover -- one of the traveling players who'd entertained his village for the past two days. Soon they'd move on. What a shame. He'd miss the handsome blond juggler who stood before him, fucking his mouth. That is, until Erond returned next year. But... not so much he'd give up his home and his little shop. He'd be celibate for as long as it took.

"Yes. Like that." Erond wasn't much of a talker. His needs were simple, and all physical. In the years they'd been lovers, he'd never uttered more than perhaps a handful of words at any one time and, to be sure, none had been the three words all lovers wished to hear.



Even though Jon's heart longed for more than a mere physical release, he knew better than to reject what the gods had given him. If a traveling player in a horse-drawn caravan was all he was allowed, then he would be content and thankful. Why couldn't he just concentrate on giving Erond his pleasure? He increased the suction and even used his tongue in a new way he'd thought up, hoping that perhaps Erond might be moved into uttering more than a one-word compliment.



Erond, for his part, put his hands upon his thin hips and buried his cock deeply down Jon's throat without much finesse or care to whether he choked Jon. Jon had returned home after serving his time as a journeyman and set up his shop only months before they'd met. The juggler's low-throated groan signaled his readiness to spew his seed.



Fairly warned, Jon prepared himself to accept and swallow. He willingly took down his throat the salty, slightly bitter, white milk of Erond's cum with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Then, it was over.



Erond quickly pulled his softening cock back into his trews with a satisfied sigh. "Thanks." He courteously helped Jon to his feet. "Let's finish this in the woods." His head jerked toward the slopes of the mountains where they often made excuses to seek out new mud and clay for Jon's pottery.



Jon shook his head. "We dare not, Erond. 'Tisn't safe to go outside the village priests' protections. The dragon hasn't been fed yet. Like as not, he's hungry."



Instead of fearfully hunching his shoulders as everyone else did, Erond's eyes lit up. "Truly? A virgin?"



The sigh wrenched up from Jon's soul. He felt so sorry for the maids of the village. Once every twenty years, the dragon awakened from his sleep and demanded a virgin maiden to quench his thirst for blood and satisfy his need for meat. He'd been lucky to be born male, even if the gods had cursed him with the unnatural lust for his own gender. As long as he kept his sin secret, he would live.



One other man, the butcher's third son, had been cursed with the lust for men. Though his burning at the stake had been almost ten years ago, Jon still had nightmares. They'd made him watch. Mercifully -- if such could be called mercy -- the village priests had tied gunpowder around Ishmi's neck, so in theory his head would be blown off before the fires consumed him. It hadn't worked well, and Ishmi's screams had been horrible to hear. Finally, one of the hunters had shot an arrow into Ishmi's chest and ended his suffering.



Jon shuddered and turned his mind away from the memories. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more to do with Erond. "Truly. Tonight is the lottery, where the maiden will be chosen from the few who remain eligible." Most of the girls of the village sought to become pregnant as soon as the blood stained their skirts, but the priests had forbidden the marriage rites before a girl's sixteenth birthday, so some suffered four years of terror, praying the dragon would not hunger for human flesh until they were safely wedded and bedded. How the priest knew when it was time was between him and the Gods.



Nearly dancing in place with eagerness, Erond tugged on Jon's hand and pulled him toward the door and the mountains. "Let us make our way to the mountain and find the cave of the dragon! While he consumes the maiden, we might steal a treasure from his nest!"



Jon dug in his heels, his eyes wide with a combination of horror and disgust. "Are you mad? While the priests swear he prefers the tender flesh of virgins, none can be sure he might not dine upon male muscle and bone if provoked. 'Tisn't worth the risk, Erond."



The juggler tugged half-heartedly for a moment before blowing out a frustrated breath. For a brief moment, his blue eyes seemed hard and even angry before his face softened. "Aye, perhaps not. I can dream." Erond reached out a hand and yanked Jon to his chest.



Alarm bells rang in Jon's head. He wriggled, but for all Jon was a healthy peasant, Erond was stronger. The potter frowned. "You take many risks. Why? Normally, you are wary." Jon's tiny cottage was not well hidden from anyone passing by. It was by far the smallest and poorest shelter, and the shutters hung so precariously, anyone walking by could see in. What if someone came by to buy a pot or lamp, or get one repaired?



The wry, almost cruel smile on Erond's face did not reassure Jon. He tightened his grip on his victim. "Because it pleases me." He crushed Jon's lips beneath his own.



Seconds later, there was a shout from outside the window shutters. "Abomination!"



Jon's heart froze, but it was too late.



Light flooded his dark little cottage when the village priest, broken pot in hand, yanked open one of the shutters. Father Sololov's outraged face peered above the sill, for the man was almost as short as a woman. His finger pointed to Jon and Erond. "You have been caught, evil-doers in vile abomination!"



The entire village, it seemed, boiled out of their cottages and shops. Men stomped grimly forward, women gleefully surged out, ready for a good show, and the children followed their mothers.



Erond dove through the back windows into Jon's tiny garden and raced through the field out of sight. Some of the village gave chase, but their enthusiasm was half-hearted at best. After all, Jon had been easily caught.



The beating administered by the men and even a few of the women who happened to have pie rollers or ladles in their hands was thorough enough to ensure Jon could not escape. Even had they not broken his right leg, the horror they made of Jon's face would ensure he would be killed as a woods boggle or other monster.



Jon fought back, knowing this would only enrage his former friends and even family. If he was lucky, he'd make them so angry, they'd kill him outright and save him from the stake. He saw the boot coming toward his head, and welcomed the black hole that swallowed him, hoping he'd never awaken.


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Harley on the Rocks by Zenobia Renquist

Harley on the Rocks


by Zenobia Renquist

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-593-8

Genre(s): Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary)

Theme(s): Interracial, Ménage, Bisexual and More

Length: Novella

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Blurb:
Harley's got the hots for her best friends -- two gorgeous hunks who're in love with one another. Helping them spice up their sex life can't be such a bad idea -- can it? Friends with benefits, nothing more.


Harley's heart has complicated the issue. She wants to be more to Koijirou and Davis than a temporary fling, but she doesn't want to ruin their friendship. If it comes down to a choice between sex and friendship, can she handle the consequences of the choice she makes?

Excerpt:
Harley on the Rocks


Zenobia Renquist

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Zenobia Renquist



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.

Harley shifted the bag in her hand so she could put the key into the lock. She didn't want to put down her other bags since she had them arranged in just the right way for one trip from the parking lot to her front door. The bag she held with two fingers while trying to unlock her door slipped from her tired fingers, and the contents scattered around the shared porch.

"Shit!"

"Let me help you," a man behind Harley said.

"No, no. That's okay. I'll get them as soon as I unlock the door. Thanks, anyway." She kicked the DVDs closer to her door and hoped the man didn't come over and help.

Her prayers weren't answered. The man ignored her and picked up the DVDs. Harley groaned internally. Don't look at them. Just put them back in the bag and hand them to me, she pleaded silently.

Again, no such luck. The man looked at each DVD in turn then at her. "Nice selection you got here."

She unlocked her door, chucked in her bags, and turned to get her DVDs back. "Thanks for your help." She reached for her bag.

He held it away from her, still browsing the contents. "It's not every day you see a woman carrying around a bag full of Japanese porn." He grinned at her. "Let me guess... you and your girlfriend like to watch while you're going at it?"

"No!" She snatched the bag away, thankful he let it go without a fight. "First off, I'm not dating. Second, I'm not gay."

"Oh."

"What's that mean?"

His grin got bigger. "Nothing. Nothing."

"I just like hentai. There's nothing wrong with that."

"No, there isn't. As a matter of fact, you've got some I haven't seen before. Where did you get them?"

"Huh?" She shook her head at the subject change. "Uh... there's a store an exit away from that big truck stop down the road. Thanks to me, the owner stocks every hentai title available. He didn't think it would sell, but he can barely keep it on the shelves. Even some of the sicker stuff sells fast."

Well, this was a normal conversation. Yup, she usually talked about animated porn on her front porch with hot men she'd just met. And man, was he hot.

He was an inch or two taller than she, which made him five-six at the most. The man looked regal. That was the only word for it. High cheekbones peeked out from beneath his long, black bangs, which framed his jaw while the back was cut short. His Asian-slanted, dark brown eyes looked like they didn't miss a thing.

She wished he'd missed her latest hentai haul. That was completely embarrassing.

"You wouldn't have a name or a business card or something, would you?" he asked.

"You're joking, right?"

"About hentai? Never."

"Koi! Where'd you go?" called a man from inside the apartment across from hers.

She looked behind Koi at the man who belonged to the voice.

Good Lord, gorgeous men are coming out of the woodwork.

He towered over her by a foot and looked like he could bench press a luxury car, but he wasn't all muscle. It was the way he carried himself, like he could squish dump trucks with a look but didn't out of principle.

He had his flame-red hair in a herringbone braid slung over his shoulder. Couple that with dreamy green eyes framed in Nordic good looks, and...

The redhead kissed the top of Koi's head.

They were gay.

Harley reined in her libido. Of course. Two hot guys living together. She should have figured that out as soon as she saw tall-and-hunky in the doorway.

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Broken Valentine by Cynthia Sax

Broken Valentine


by Cynthia Sax

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-504-4

Genre(s): Urban Fantasy

Theme(s): Valentine's Day, Seasonal Themes, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures

Length: Hot Flash
 
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Blurb:
Sometimes to get what you need, you have to break all the rules.

Cupids are the Fey world's mercenaries. These elite archers are assigned targets by love Fairies. Cupids then shoot the unsuspecting humans with love arrows. They don't question their assignments. They don't deviate from their targets. They complete their jobs and collect their pay.

Until one Cupid changes everything.

The top Cupid, Garvin, is fed up with easy assignments. He wants a challenge. After one random shooting spree, the scarred warrior gets what he wants. An angry and sinfully sexy love Fairy is given the task of supervising the bad boy archer. She will soon discover that breaking the rules is contagious.

Excerpt:
Broken Valentine


Cynthia Sax

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Cynthia Sax

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.

"Which one of you asswipes paired a professional assassin up with a Sunday school teacher?" Val's irate voice carried over the murmur of the happy hour crowd. Garvin's bow wielding brothers-in-arms swiveled on their barstools to face the angry love Fairy.

Garvin didn't move, refusing to acknowledge her presence. He stared stubbornly into his glass of whiskey, well aware that ignoring Val would piss her off even more. Her cheeks would flush with passion. Her pink eyes would sparkle. That lush mouth of hers would flap. Only an encounter with his Val could pierce this damn eternal boredom.

He heard the tap, tap, tap of stilettos on the hardwood. "It was you, wasn't it?" Her rose blossom scent swirled around them. Garvin inhaled, taking that piece of her deep within him.

She knew he was the guilty archer. He was the best, he was the baddest, and he had demanded exclusive rights to all of Val's assignments. No other Cupid would mess with that claim. "Move," he growled at the winged man sitting on the barstool next to him. The seat squeaked as Brown hustled to do his bidding. "Val." He slapped the warm vinyl circle.

Her full mouth pressed into a thin white line. "If you think I'm going to --" The words stopped as he scooped her up and plopped her down on the barstool. She weighed nothing -- his gaze lingered over her heaving chest -- yet that nothing was distributed nicely. She had big breasts, a narrow waist, and shapely hips. Her short, full skirt showed off her curvy legs. "Stop that." She batted his lingering hands away. Her pink ponytail bobbed with her struggle. "This is no time for games. You're in big trouble, Gar."

She was right. He was in big trouble, but that wasn't a new development. He'd been in big trouble since the first day they'd met. The introductions hadn't even been made before he'd kissed her -- a possessive, branding kiss declaring to the world she was his. When he was done with that inappropriate-for-work display, she had slapped him, equally as hard.

His fascination with her had intensified to the point that one sniff of her scent made his fingers twitch and his cock harden. "I asked you for challenging assignments." She hadn't taken him seriously, laughing at his request. He gulped a mouthful of the whiskey, relishing the burn.

"I worked for five months finding the perfect man for Marcie, five months." Her small fists pounded the bar top, making glasses jump. "You destroyed all that with one missed shot."

"One missed shot?" He glowered at her. "I don't miss, Fairy." He was the best. Didn't she know that?

"You..." Her mouth dropped open. He longed to kiss those lips shut. "You bastard." She burst into motion, flailing her arms like windmills, pounding his shoulder. "You did this on purpose." A flower blossom had more power than she did. "You... ouch."

"Damn it." He captured her wrist. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't allow her retreat. "Let me see." Her hands were red and raw. Garvin wanted to howl with outrage. "You little fool." He brushed his lips across them, trying to soothe her pain. "You hurt yourself." He kissed each pink fingertip. He explored her hand with his mouth, tracing every crease in her palm. He could nibble on her forever. She was so delectably soft.

She stared at him with wide eyes. "Gar, you're such an ass." She made her insult sound like an endearment. "You drive me absolutely crazy."

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1538

COMING SOON! White Russian

Tiressa just wanted a drink. After weeks of lonely space, one breakdown after another, and delays of every kind, she just wanted to relax for a few hours while the nebula storm passed. When she orders a white russian straight up, she doesn't get what she expects.

Yuri Dubnikov was pleaaently surprised to land in the hands of such a luscious looking woman. It was still bad, but at least he had someone interesting to pass the time with. As a spy under a cover so deep, only the Supreme Commander of the military knew his mission. Convincing her he wasn't really as bad as it seemed would definitely take work.

Fortunately, she's as drawn to him as he is to her. Their chemistry, when they collide, will be explosive.

Chapter One

Tiressa stumbled into the dimly lit holo bar and collapsed into a booth. What a fucking day! Nothing had gone right. Absolutely nothing. Her ship had been grounded at Patmar Station because of a busted beacon lamp. When she finally did get clearance to leave, her power coil blew a ring. Now, the nebula storms had forced her to this back-space junk station with no end in sight. What the fuck else could go wrong? She just wanted to get back to Earth and civilization.

She flagged down the dark-haired waiter, who tried to ignore her. "Look, I'm tired, and all I want to do is get back to Earth. I'm seriously PMSing and I've had absolutely no chocolate or caffeine for the last twenty solar days. Do not make me ask you twice to get your ass over her and get me a drink."

That changed the little man's mind. In a hurry.

Tiressa wasn't a small woman by any means. She stood five-nine and, though lean, carried a fair amount of muscle. She looked like a space marine and had the temper to match, but in reality, she was glorified delivery girl. Suited her fine. She was the only cargo tech in the whole damned company who hadn't been jacked at least four or five times. Hell, she hadn't been jacked even once. The only pirate who'd tried got to sample his own balls.

Literally.

After that, word got around, and everyone pretty much left her alone.

"What'll it be?" The lanky waiter might have finally stopped at her table, but it was far from a willing gesture.

"White Russian. Straight up."

The man stopped in mid-movement as he tapped her order into his tablet. "Did you say, 'White Russian, straight up?'"

Tiressa had to clench her fists to keep from scratching the poor bastard's eyes out. "Did I stutter or something, or are you hard of hearing?"

"No, ma'am." His tone was suddenly respectful, and his body language screamed fear. Finally, something in her tone had made him take her seriously. Maybe this day was getting better. "I just didn't expect a woman to… err… order… such a… err… drink." He stammered all over himself, but Tiressa didn't care. Something in the back of her mind prickled, but she ignored it. If he brought her alcohol, she didn't really give a fuck.

Instead of replying, she just gave him her best icy stare, and he scurried off. Sitting back with a satisfied smirk, Tiressa crossed her legs and looked around her. The place was practically deserted save for a couple of human attendants and several bots to clean tables. The latest news feeds scrolled along the top of the bar, and holo images of fugitives and criminals danced across the banner. Including the announcement of the capture of the Yuri Dubnikov.

Tiressa was never one to be intimidated by anyone, but she had to admit, knowing Dubnikov was behind bars was a relief. His reputation made her hair curl. He was wanted for so many crimes, the list ran the length of the ticker several times. Rape and murder were only minor infractions, if the news could be believed. Crimes against humanity, genocide, and the destruction of vital trade routes using deadly means were just a few of the capital crimes he was charged with. How much was actually true was anybody's guess, but Tiressa felt safer knowing she wouldn't run up against him on one of those sabotaged trade routes.

Everything about the man sent shivers down her spine. Looking at his image on the news, she wondered how he'd managed to stay in hiding as long as he had. Nothing about the man was mundane. He stood out in a crowd like a beat dick. Exceedingly tall and muscular, he stood at least head and shoulders above everyone around him, no matter where he went. His skin was pale, but not so much that his dark blond hair gave him a washed out appearance. Angular features made his face seemed chiseled out of stone. One couldn't call him handsome by any means, but he definitely wasn't someone who blended in with his surroundings. Nor did he seem like a man who'd want to sneak around wherever he went.

No. Dubnikov would blatantly flaunt himself out in public just to prove he couldn’t be caught. Tiressa could tell by the defiant way he boldly looked directly at the camera, not bothering to try and shield himself as so many do when caught. The smirk made Tiressa feel as if he were playing a joke on everyone, that they hadn't so much caught him as he'd let himself be caught.

Not a pleasant line of thinking as far as Tiressa was concerned.

She needed that drink. Yesterday.

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1559

Dragos 2: Scorched by Amber Kallyn

Dragos 2: Scorched


by Amber Kallyn

Cover art: Karen Fox

ISBN: 978-1-60521-509-9
Genre(s): Paranormal

Theme(s): Interracial, Shapeshifters, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures

Series: Dragos

Length: Novel

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1537
Blurb:
A rare Argentinean dragon shifter, Cynthianna "Anna" Hernandez has never known trust, peace or safety, not even by fleeing to the deepest wilds of Canada. When bounty hunter Garreth Dragos shows up during a blizzard, things get complicated as their inner dragons decide they're perfect for each other. Things get worse when the dark mage hunting Anna finds them, sending his creatures to return her to his evil clutches. He's willing to sacrifice anything and anybody to further his quest for power. Together, Anna and Garreth must trust in each other or all will be lost to evil.
Excerpt:
Dragos: Scorched


Amber Kallyn

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Amber Kallyn

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.

Snow. Everywhere. Garreth Dragos pushed through the clingy, freezing stuff. The ground had become hard-packed, knee-high drifts. Softer, yet still icy, flakes swirled in the air, unceasingly falling from a hidden sky.
Minutes, maybe hours ago, he'd lost the leather lace holding his hair tied back. Icy black strands tangled in his face, slapping his eyes.

His body had long ceased shivering, but still he moved forward, uncaring. There was a job to do. A traitorous criminal to bring in. She would face the council for unforgivable crimes.

Garreth clenched his fists, trying to push back the painful memories of his past. Of the people who'd committed similar crimes against his family. And like the one responsible for his personal pain, this traitor would be sentenced to a well-deserved death.

He inched through the whiteness, an ache spreading deep in his chest. Only a month ago he'd captured the one responsible for causing his family such agony. Now, that man was dead. Garreth refused to think about the fact that at one time, the man had been his eldest brother.

Those bonds were broken the moment the man killed their mother and used her magic and blood for dark purposes.

Shaking his head, he plowed on through the snow. His feet, freezing and wet, no longer burned. His chest expanded and a puff of smoke drifted from his nostrils. He was so cold he couldn't even shift into his dragon form.

Not that it was an option anyway. She would sense such a thing. The traitor was near. She must be. Garreth had it on good authority -- a snitch he could trust. At least, as far as someone living in a shady area of the law could be trusted. So he was doomed to continue walking through this frackin cold hell until he found her hideout.

Something buried in the snow caught his boot. Unbalanced, he fell forward, inhaling a mouthful of ice. He pushed up from the depression his body made, crawling to the surface and flipped onto his back.

Ice breached his thick, fur-lined jacket. Breathing heavy, Garreth stared into the moving whiteness. Snowflakes landed on his face and he tried blinking them out of his eyes.

In a minute, he would go on. But for now, he needed to catch his breath. It occurred to him that he should probably get up immediately. Being lethargic wasn't like him. But even his dragon, seeming far away and untouchable, only wanted to sleep for a while.

In the distance came a howl. More echoed around him. Wolves. They wouldn't dare approach, not once they caught his predatory scent. Assuming it reached them through the bitter air before they decided to take a bite.

* * *

Cynthianna Hernandez stared at the growling wolf on her cabin porch, his eyes flashing as he crouched for attack. "Silencio," she commanded.

Wolf whimpered, turning to stare at the trees around them, one paw on the wood, the other poised to dash out into the blizzard.

She sensed the presence of someone here as well as her companion did. That didn't mean she would foolishly dart out into the storm -- quickly becoming the promised blizzard -- to go find out who, or what, had come to the forest.

Anna clasped the oval locket dangling from the gold chain around her neck. She didn't have to open it to remember what her beloved padre looked like. Or his final words to her.

"Run. The master is after you."

Well, she'd done so. How much farther could a dragon run than the coldest reaches of Canada? At least here, the chances of bumping into his creatures were slim.

She hadn't even seen another dragon during her time wandering this cold, frozen place. Then again, dragons were creatures of heat. The cold hindered their abilities. Only the blood of her mama -- a rare Argentinean dragon, more magic than fire -- helped her function in this weather. Anna could call on those inherent abilities to protect her from the cold.

Most dragons were of European descent. Over the centuries, their magic faded, while their fire increased.

She had the best of both worlds.

And if a dragon would be hard pressed to survive, anyone estupido to be caught out in the fast approaching storm would soon be dead.

Howls erupted in the forest, less than a mile from her hidden cabin. Wolf whimpered again, inching forward. "You won't stand a chance against a pack," Anna replied, staring out into the white nothingness. "And anyone out there is none of our concern."

But a pang of worry crept into her chest. Could she really stand by and let someone die? Clutching her jacket tighter, she mumbled, "I'm el stupido."

Wolf yelped and trotted into the snow. Anna followed. He ranged ahead, doubling back every few minutes to point her the right way. Ten minutes later, the cold had bitten deep, crawling beneath her jacket trying to freeze her. She called to her dragon magic. Soon, warmth surrounded her, pushing back the cold.

The wind shifted, opening a slim curtain in the white. In front of her, Wolf stood over a body-shaped lump. He growled, snapping at three mangy, starved wolves. Their eyes glowed yellow, reflecting moonlight.

"Regresar," Anna commanded the wild beasts to leave. The three strange wolves turned their glares to her. "Regresar," she repeated, a low growl of her own escaping with the word.

One wolf barked, then as one, they turned and fled. Anna's wolf faced her, tongue lolling from the side of his sly grin. Then he began digging snow from the body.

"Whoever it is, they're surely dead by now." But she knelt down and pushed a thin layer of snow from the person's face.

Only to catch her breath. The hard, chiseled face seemed familiar. Black eyebrows framed slightly tilted eyes. She dusted off his tangled black hair, then moved to his broad chest. He breathed. Surprise almost made her jerk away.

Brushing a strand of her long, dark hair from her eyes, she stared at his wide mouth, the square jaw, the dimple in his chin. This couldn't be... No. Not her dream warrior. Just because he looked so like the few flashes she'd seen didn't mean anything. Her dream warrior was merely a figment of her imagination. This man was real.

And yet, heat spread through her body as she remembered her dream from the night before. How her warrior had loved her. Her gaze kept drawing to this man's mouth. Her breasts ached, wanting his touch.

With a snort, Anna ignored her growing desire for the half-dead stranger. At least he wasn't the master. Then again, if she ever caught that bastardo in such a vulnerable position, she'd be able to finish him off for good.

But neither was this man human. She bent near his ear, sniffing deeply. Shock coursed through her and she jerked back. Dragon. What was a dragon doing here?

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1537

Rough, Tough, and Tumble 1: Hung at Dawn by Kate Hill

Rough, Tough and Tumble 1: Hung at Dawn


by Kate Hill

Cover art: Zuri

ISBN: 978-1-60521-489-4
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure, Time Travel

Theme(s): Ménage, Shapeshifters

Series: Rough, Tough and Tumble

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1536

Blurb:
Rough -- Sefu, a hunky pro fighter in the Aspectian arena where contestants battle in a variety of forms, faces death after being gored by his latest opponent.

Tough -- Tiago, a mysterious career criminal, awaits execution in a high security prison where his shapeshifting powers have been neutralized.

Tumble -- Zandra, a pleasure shifter who has mastered the art of seduction, entertains a dangerous client who wants more from her than sex.

Dr. Apriyn brings together these three seductive shapeshifters for a time travel experiment that hurls them into the old west where sex and violence reign supreme. While defending a town threatened by outlaws, the trio discover each other's talents, in bed and out.

Excerpt:
Rough, Tough and Tumble: Hung at Dawn


Kate Hill

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Kate Hill

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

Sometimes Dr. Apriyn focused so intently on his work that he neglected his baser needs. Just because he obsessed about his projects didn't mean he lacked the same sexual desires as other men. Today's passionate interlude was a necessary part of his plan, but he still enjoyed himself tremendously.

His post as a general medical examiner in the Aspectian capital city meant he had many opportunities to find the people needed for his experiment. He required three highly skilled Aspectians who were familiar with Earth languages and had strong survival instincts but lacked family connections or prominent positions in society. In short, he needed competent people who could easily disappear. That seemed impossible, but not if one knew where to look.

Dr. Apriyn didn't need pillars of society. In fact for the dark, perilous science he dabbled in, he required people equally dangerous, seductive and powerful.

Most people wouldn't consider a pleasure shifter for such work, but when he met Zandra last month, he knew she was perfect for the task. Further study of the young woman proved him right.

Now he stretched out on the satin covered bed in the pleasure house where she worked. He watched her comb her long, chestnut hair. He'd requested she keep her true form during their appointment, and she willingly obliged.

Here on the planet Aspectia, some inhabitants possessed the gift of shapeshifting. The planet was named for these magnificent beings called Aspectians. Dr. Apriyn, though born here, was a non-shifter, identical to an Earth human. Still his shifter cousins fascinated him.

"You told me what form you want me in," Zandra said, gazing at him through brown eyes trimmed with thick, dark lashes. Though she'd grown up on the streets, her eyes weren't hard like so many others Apriyn had seen. "And you asked me to brush my hair."

"You look beautiful when you brush your hair," he said. Nothing turned him on more than the sight of a naked woman brushing her long hair. He loved the silkiness of her tresses and the gentle bounce of her full breasts.

"What else do you want?" she asked.

"I want to touch you," he said in a husky voice. His heartbeat quickened and his cock swelled, poking against the red sheet that covered him from the waist down. He reached beneath and stroked himself, his gaze still fixed on Zandra.

"Here, let me help." She placed her brush on the night table and climbed beneath the sheets. Her lush body half draped over his, she used the sole of her foot to rub his calves while her hand curled around his cock. His eyes narrowed and his pulse quickened.

Zandra's thumb swept over his cock head and teased the ultra sensitive underside. As good as this felt, he wanted to touch her back. He hungered for sex, though as a non-shifting male he rarely nabbed the attention of other Aspectians. They generally preferred their own kind, yet here in the underground, pleasure shifters fucked anyone for the right price.

Dr. Apriyn had paid to use Zandra tonight, but she had no idea the bonus he would soon offer.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1536

Solar Flare: Emerald Earth by Elizabeth Jewell

Solar Flare: Emerald Earth
by Elizabeth Jewell
Cover art: Angela Knight
ISBN: 978-1-60521-564-8
Genre(s): Paranormal, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Vampires, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Solar Flare
Length: Novella
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1542
Blurb:
Twenty-five years after its disappearance, the long-haul freighter Lightning Girl returns to Earth with only two passengers left alive. Ash and Trev were lovers when catastrophe befell the freighter, but after twenty-five years of solitude and starvation, things may never be the same between them again.


Excerpt:
Solar Flare: Emerald Earth


Elizabeth Jewell

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 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.

Cal Harper was five years old when the long haul freighter Lightning Girl disappeared. He remembered seeing the news story on Widenet one evening while he was eating chicken bites and macaroni and thinking it was the saddest thing he'd ever heard. All those people lost, so far from home, and probably nobody would ever know what had happened to them.

But life went on. He never completely forgot about the lost ship, but other things occupied his attention. School, music, girls. He earned a degree in journalism, fell in love with a woman, did a stint on a long haul freighter himself, partly to write about it, partly to stay with the woman.

Then he lost her, and space lost its appeal for him. He observed the news and wrote about it. He mourned. Sometimes, still, he thought about Lightning Girl. Sometimes, he still wondered what had happened to her.

* * *

The news came through on the press boards. Cal was at his desk watching Widenet to see how the competition was handling a recent story about a political scandal in Italy. He glanced to his left to look at the monitor where the press alerts were scrolling across the screen and saw the words out of the corner of his eye, but what he was reading didn't quite register until he turned back to his own monitor. Then, as it clicked, he turned back to the press alerts.

A vehicle drifting past the orbit of Pluto has been identified as the long missing Lightning Girl. No information yet on whether anyone remains alive aboard the freighter.

He felt his breath rise hard and high in his chest, his heart beating faster as he remembered that day when he'd seen the story about Lightning Girl's disappearance. Twenty-five years. What were the chances anyone would still be alive? Although there had been a vampire on board, he remembered.

Italy, he decided, could wait. This was his new story.

* * *

Trev was worried about Ash. He'd been worried for so long it had become a constant background hum, a slow buzz of anxiety that colored every moment. Even when he slept now, as deeply as the daysleep took him, he felt the tension, and it leached its way into his dreams.

Twenty-five years. Ash had been a vampire for twenty-five years, and at no point during that time had he been able to function with full nutrition, full rest, or any of the things he needed to understand and control the vampire nature Trev had conferred on him.

Sometimes, looking at Ash's haunted eyes, the way he flinched now whenever he left the compact solitude of his tiny sleeping berth, Trev wondered if he should have just let Ash die.

But then he would have been alone the last quarter century, facing the same kind of deprivation and flying in silent solitude into the dark.

He'd done it before. No vampire lived as long as Trev had without experiencing at least one long bout of solitude and starvation. It was one of the many dangers inherent in immortality. Once he'd spent six months buried when the building he'd been in had collapsed in an earthquake.

But Trev had been two centuries old when that had happened. He'd been familiar with his systems, with his body, with his hunger. Ash had none of that. Ash had plunged directly from human to vampire. Silent, isolated, starving vampire.

When they'd made the decision -- under duress, soaked with the fear of imminent death -- they'd had no idea they'd be alone this long. Trev had suspected it, or at least had known somewhere in the back of his mind it was a possibility, but the need to stay alive, to keep Ash alive, had overridden caution about what might happen.

Vampire as he was, Trev was still in many ways human.

So was Ash. In many more ways. And that was what made it all so hard.

Trev had been in the engineering section when they first entered a space where the stars seemed familiar. He'd stared at the readouts for a time, looking at the numbers, at the graphical representations of the space they'd entered. The twinge of recognition at the back of his skull made him squint more closely, and finally made him get up, leave engineering, and go to the bridge.

They'd had the baffles closed over the main viewscreen for a long time. Years, maybe. Trev wasn't sure. An irate screeling noise rose from them when Trev activated the switch to open them.

They opened, though, slowly and ponderously and with great protest. Trev settled down into the captain's chair and stared out at the vast black.

A vast black spread with stars he knew.

Something tight and hot inside him loosened. For a long, suspended moment he thought he might weep. Then he blinked, and smiled, and went to tell Ash.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1542

New Reviews for Changeling Press 1/24/11

 

New Reviews for Changeling Press 1/24/11

Congratulations to Cynthia Sax, Faith Talbot, Sierra Dafoe, Sarah Black and Madeleine Oh!

BADGE BUNNY: PROTECT AND SERVE by Cynthia Sax

Reviewed by Ebook Addicts

Badge Bunny is well written, imaginative, fast paced and so quirky I believed every delightful second of it. 

http://www.ebookaddictreviews.com/2011/01/15/badge-bunny-by-cynthia-sax/

BEAUTIFUL MUSIC: DAZE ON END by Faith Talbot

Four Hearts from The Romance Studio

What an enchanting thrill ride of a story this one is. The dynamics between the three main characters are intriguing…Their story was very emotionally gripping.

http://theromancestudio.com/reviews/reviews/dazeonendtalbot.htm

LIFE'S A BEACH by Sierra Dafoe

Four Cherries from Whipped Cream Reviews

I especially loved the description of Lily's pool side encounter. It was so hot, even a dip in a cold pool, if I had one, would not have brought down my temperature.

http://whippedcream2.blogspot.com/2011/01/lifes-beach-by-sierra-dafoe.html

SUGARPLUM: MUTTS by Sarah Black

Four Cherries from Whipped Cream Reviews

I love stories about people finding each other despite the odds. Add in a couple of flopsy, mopsy puppies and you've really got something. It left a smile on my face.

http://whippedcream2.blogspot.com/2011/01/mutts-by-sarah-black.html

SUBMISSIVE GAMES COLLECTION by Madeleine Oh

Five Blue Ribbons from Romance Junkies

…a fun sexy story that proves there's no expiration date on BDSM love and games. Madeleine Oh brings these characters to life.

http://romancejunkiesreviews.com/artman/publish/contemporary/Submissive_Games_Collection.shtml

Wolf Hunt Collection by Marie Treanor

Wolf Hunt (Collection)


by Marie Treanor

Cover art: Sahara Kelly

ISBN: 978-1-60521-500-6

Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Action/Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Collections

Theme(s): Werewolves

Length: Collection

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1535

Blurb:
Who’s hunting whom?


A man wakes up naked and alone in a city doorway -- with no memory of how he got there or who he is. For journalist Rose Winter, a wolf story begins to converge with the sexy naked man she’s trying to help. And a chain of events is set in motion that may change Earth’s future…

Human-wolf hybrids, created by a top secret government project, have been released into the world to find and destroy alien infiltrators. But once these soldiers begin to think for themselves, their missions are complicated by attraction, sex and divided loyalties.

Publisher’s Note: This collection contains the previously released novellas Wolf Hunt, Forest Wolf, Cry for the Moon, and Galactic Wolf.

Excerpt:
Wolf Hunt (Collection)


Marie Treanor

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Marie Treanor

Excerpt from Urban Wolf



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.

"Hey, what's going on?"



The female voice seemed to cut through his skin. Clear, brisk, curious, with a warm pitch that spoke straight to his cock. Or would have, had that organ not been so shrivelled with rain and cold. A ripple moved through the hostile crowd. Voices muttered and he had to strain to catch the words.



"I know her. I'm sure I do."



"Who is she?"



"She's that girl on the newscreens. Shit, she's probably got a camera. I'm off..."



Threatening arms in the crowd lowered. Stones dropped casually on the ground with a scattering of dull thuds and several people drifted away.



A young woman emerged from the dispersing crowd, pushing down a rain hood to reveal luxuriant long hair of a bright and rare shade of amber, falling around a face that he supposed was beautiful. Certainly, her bone structure was exquisite, her lips full and tempting, her eyes large and brown...



But it wasn't her beauty or her melting eyes that truly caught his attention. It was her smell. Frowning, he tried to place it. Did he know her? Surely that scent was familiar... Something about it filled his mind with visions of naked, sweating bodies, mainly his own and hers.



She came to an abrupt halt and stared at him. Oh yes, she was highly fuckable, and yet, stronger than his upsurge of unexpected and inconvenient lust was the desire to put his hands around her elegant, swan-like neck and strangle her.



He flexed his fingers.



The older woman was explaining. "Art found him asleep in his doorway when he came home from night shift. Must be a drunk or a down-and-out, some kind of pervert too. Look at him!"



After her first flickering glance, the newcomer seemed to be rather determinedly focusing on his face. "He must be freezing," she said unexpectedly. In an instant, she'd stripped off her raincoat, revealing an orange bodysuit that seemed to match her hair, and bright, chunky beads around her throat. She advanced upon him.



He fell back, giving ground before her as he hadn't before the stone-throwing mob.



She paused. "I won't hurt you. What's your name?"



His throat closed up. Panic threatened to resurface. Her eyes searched his. Every hair on his body stood up in alarm. Though he'd no idea who she was, either, his every instinct was against trusting her.



"Where does he live?" she flung over her shoulder.



Silence and a few shrugs. "Why's he scared of her?" someone muttered.



Scared? Was he? Forcing himself, he stayed still when she took another step nearer to him. Maybe. But it felt like a powerful tug of lust. Mixed with an equally strong urge to exterminate her.



"He's not scared of her," answered another voice with a definite snigger. "He likes her."



She heard them. He could see it in the color soaring into her neck and face. He even admired the way she deliberately didn't so much as glance at his growing cock. And yet it didn't embarrass him. Perhaps he was an exhibitionist after all.


http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1535

Phantasmagoric Feast by Kate Steele

Phantasmagoric Feast


by Kate Steele

Cover art: Reneé George

ISBN: 978-1-60521-562-4

Genre(s): Paranormal

Theme(s): Vampires, Gay and Lesbian

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1539

Blurb:
Plagued by self-doubt and to prove, if only to himself, he can be a bold man of action, a slightly inebriated Toby Heaton decides on a reckless course of action. Walking into Mausoleum -- a bar known to be owned and operated by a clan of vampires -- he offers his virgin throat to the biggest baddest blood-sucker in the place... too bad his offer falls flat. At Mausoleum, a human freely supplying a vampire with blood is a nightly occurrence. Still, all is not lost.

Taken under handsome bartender De's wing, Toby is about to embark on a surreal journey. One filled with pleasure and pain. A journey fueled by blood in which he will learn his true worth.

Excerpt:
Phantasmagoric Feast


Kate Steele

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Kate Steele



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 guy walks into a bar," Toby mumbled, following his words with a drunken snicker. He stumbled across the threshold then froze. "But he never thought he'd see something like this." Blinking to clear his drink-befuddled vision, he stared around the room in appalled fascination. Mausoleum -- the much touted vampire bar -- was so much more than he'd expected.

Rather than a dark and noisy, garishly decorated room with neon lights and loud music, this place was an elegant and tasteful monument to the hereafter. Designed with its namesake in mind, the interior of the building resembled an elaborate and ornately decorated tomb.



Majestically posed on tall granite bases, a pair of dogs with multiple heads guarded the entrance -- Cerberus memorialized in stone. There were pairs of strategically placed pillars in each corner of the cavernous, square interior and four more formed a counter square farther in toward the center of the room. On the walls, carved cornices accented decorative friezes rich with sculpted figures of ancient Greek design. Here and there, in recessed alcoves, elegant flower arrangements stood in solitary splendor, the bases of the urns that held them, draped with black satin.



There was loud music as expected, but the lighting was atmospheric and shadowy rather than flashy or neon. It was directed to soften the stark angles of marble and granite used in the room's layout. Booths and tables constructed of heavy, dark wood inlaid with black granite, and with seats and backs padded and covered with black leather, were arranged in groups around the pillars. Each grouping formed an isle unto itself and between these islands most of the patrons gathered. They ebbed and flowed from the central dance floor to the densely packed seating area of their choice, and it was they -- the out-of-the-ordinary clientele -- who truly grabbed Toby's attention.



Everywhere he looked were people dressed in black goth garb. Leather and lace and every fabric in between studded with glittering silver... or so it seemed at first. The more his gaze wandered, the more he noticed splashes of color amongst the funereal black and as he studied the scene, he realized something. Those who stood out so singularly, conspicuous by the lushly tinted shades of their clothing, were the center of attention. From each colorful hub radiated a pool of darkness, crows vying for the attention of a peacock.



Pleased by this semi-poetic analogy, he searched for and found the bar, made a beeline for it and hauled himself onto a stool. Catching the eye of the bartender, he offered a tipsy smile. "Hi there."



"Hello," the man replied as he came to stand before his new customer.



Toby's awareness perked up at the smooth baritone of the man's voice, and he nearly shivered in the wake of the piercing eyes expertly perusing and sizing him up.



"Are you in the right place? After Hours is across the street."



Absorbed in staring at the man, Toby managed a distracted, "Hmm?"



Indicating Toby's suit and tie, he elaborated. "Businessmen. They usually gather over there. It seems more your type of place."



Following the direction of the finger pointed at him, Toby glanced down at himself then back at the bartender. "Oh, I see what you mean. Actually, I just came from there. You prob'ly can't tell, but I've already had a drink or two."



"Hmm. Frankly, I thought that might be the case."



"Shhh. Don't tell anyone else." Toby tried to give him a conspiratorial wink, but found more than an owlish blink beyond his capacity. Undaunted he continued. "But you know, you're not exactly blending either. You're wearing purple," he stage-whispered, eyeing the man's shirt. It was a button down style, which he wore quite casually with the top two buttons undone, the tails out, and the sleeves rolled up.



"You mean I should be wearing black?" the bartender asked, and the smile he employed was so engaging Toby was momentarily stunned.



Being half snockered he'd failed to notice the full extent of the man's appeal. Here was a man far and away from ordinary. His were the kind of looks that invoked sighs of longing from some and unadulterated envy from others. His black hair of medium length -- parted just slightly left of center -- was swept back with just a few strands teasing the gently curved plane of his forehead. Neat brows presided over a pair of deep blue eyes. His nose was arrow straight, his lips full but masculine, his jaw line sharp. Six feet tall or thereabouts, his upper body, showcased by the tailoring of his shirt, appeared to be fit, his chest firm, shoulders broad, and waist trim. His forearms, exposed by his rolled up sleeves, were well defined, and his hands were large with long and what Toby was sure were gracefully competent fingers.



"Um... black? Yeah, I guess," was Toby's tardy response. Under normal circumstances he'd have found talking to such a good-looking man intimidating, but being under the influence had some advantages after all. "I would have thought your boss would want you to blend in more."



"Not really. He's easy-going about that kind of thing. Speaking of atmosphere, what brings you to a place like this... not that you're unwelcome."



"Thanks, I appreciate that, 'cause you see" -- Toby leaned forward and lowered his voice -- "I'm here on a mission."


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Vaaden Captives: Susan by Jessica Coulter Smith

Vaaden Captives: Susan


by Jessica Coulter Smith

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-563-1

Genre(s): Sci-Fi

Series: Vaaden Captives

Length: Novella

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Blurb:
Susan St. James has lived a hard life. The men she's known have proven themselves to be faithless liars, manipulators, and even abusive at times. When she's taken captive and transported to Vaaden, a planet in another galaxy, she figures not much has changed for her. Sylon, a male Vaaden warrior, comes to the holding cell to claim one of the slaves for his own. He chooses Susan, liking her willingness to please him. It doesn't take long for Sylon to realize his captive is passionate and full of vivaciousness. However, Sylon has a temper, and after Susan is injured, he realizes that she means more to him than she should.
Excerpt:
Vaaden Captives: Susan


Jessica Coulter Smith

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 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.



I'd been held captive in the dank holding cell on Vaaden for far longer than I liked, so I was pleased to see the Vaaden warriors. My cellmates quaked in terror next to me and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. It was doubtful either of them would make it on this harsh planet. Thanks to the translation machine on the wall, I'd heard enough talk to realize we would be sold either as sex slaves or prostitutes. Honestly, considering some of the guys I had dated, being a man's sex slave didn't bother me, especially if there was a chance I would be taken care of.

The first man stepped into the cell, a good six inches taller than my five-foot-six frame. He wasn't as tall as the other two. His eyes were the color of a sunset and seemed to burn into me. Neatly brushed chocolate hair framed his face, and his features were pleasing; his full mouth was kissable. His skin was a dark bronze and I wondered if he worked outside.



He quickly dismissed Sorcha and Enid and came to stand before me. Reaching out, he fondled my breasts with his large, warm hands, and I felt my nipples pucker in response. He seemed to be satisfied and shoved me to my knees. I knew what he wanted before he asked and I shivered in anticipation. He unfastened his pants and his large, thick cock sprang free, just begging for attention.



"Suck me," he commanded.



I licked my lips and leaned forward, taking him into my mouth. I sucked and licked him, enjoying myself immensely. When he was close to finding his release, he grabbed a handful of my hair and shoved himself further into my mouth. I felt his warm cum shoot down my throat.



"Swallow it all," he said roughly.



I was only too happy to comply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sorcha watching with a mixture of horror and fascination. If my mouth hadn't been full, I would have grinned. I wondered what she would think if she knew I'd practically had to whore myself out to keep a roof over my head and food on the table. A line of drug dealer and alcoholic boyfriends had littered my past. Apartments infested with roaches and rats were the norm for me. I'd definitely been in worse situations.



When the Vaaden was finished, he fastened his pants and hauled me to my feet. Facing the guard, he said, "This one is mine."



The guard looked at me. "Is that what you want? Or would you prefer a life serving many?"



"I'll go with him." I felt like saying duh! What woman would prefer to be fucked by hundreds instead of belonging to just one guy?



The guard nodded and motioned for us to leave the cell. The ground under my feet was rough and cold, but I didn't care since I was free from that wretched cell. Outside, the double suns shone brightly, nearly blinding me. I winced and covered my face as best I could. Sensing my distress, my savior lifted me into his arms and carried me the rest of the way to my new living quarters.



When we reached my new living space, he set me down on my feet once more. The door opened with a whoosh and he ushered me inside, and then flipped a switch inside the door I had learned activated the translator.



The apartment-like space was on the plain side, but seemed functional. Honestly, it was better than some of the places I'd called home. If I didn't have to share my bed with rats or bugs, it was a step in the right direction.



"This is your new home."



The snarky side of me wanted to say something bitchy, but I refrained -- barely.



"My home? Not your home?"



He shook his head. "My home is with my wife."



Well, hell. It figured I would have to share him. That didn't sit well with me, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I'd hoped to have him all to myself. He was a nice-looking guy and I'd wanted things to be different. My previous boyfriends had all cheated on me. Of course, on a planet where I was just a slave it had been silly of me to think that perhaps my owner might belong to me and only me.



"So, if you live with your wife, how often will I see you?" I asked as I looked around.



He leaned against a wall and watched me. "Often enough."


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How Not to Date a Fae by Stephanie Burke

How Not to Date a Fae


by Stephanie Burke

Cover art: Bryan Keller

ISBN: 978-1-60521-553-2

Genre(s): Paranormal

Theme(s): Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay and Lesbian

Length: Novella

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1532

Blurb:
After lies, deceit and betrayal drive Ario from the only home he knows, he is determined never to look back, to dissociate himself from the people who made his life hell, and to never use magic again.




But as the saying goes, Man plans, the Gods laugh -- and they're chortling over this one.



In his new home in Ireland, Ario suddenly finds himself plagued by pixies, magical tombs, and a man so different from any other he's ever known that their coming together can't be by chance.



Cailte was one of the Finnian army, Finn McCool's right hand, and after waking from his centuries-long sleep, the large warrior found himself at the mercies of a different time and of a man unlike any other.



Their pairing might be ordained by fate, but it's up to them to forge a bond to protect them both when Ari's past threatens to destroy them both. Together they might be powerful enough to defy the gods, and maybe Ario will learn that dating a Fae isn't so bad.

Excerpt:
How Not to Date a Fae


Stephanie Burke

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2011 Stephanie Burke



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.



Ario moaned, his head flying back, his shoulder-length black hair falling to frame his face in ebony locks of silk. Sweat lent his body a golden aura that was picked up and reflected in the light of the five candles that lit his darkened bedroom, creating a spotlight for a one-man show that no one would ever see.

Or so he thought.



He squeezed his eyes shut as his arousal and loneliness seemed to fill his chest. He concentrated on one and pushed the other away, his hand pulling ever more rapidly at his hot, throbbing dick, which had been in an unusual state of arousal all damn day.



Nothing he did made his dick behave -- not the cold showers, not the hard, backbreaking labor, not the thought of all he'd left behind to venture here into the wilds. Nothing worked, so he was forced to resort to one of his most hated and beloved activities.



A sobbing cry left his lips as he rose to his knees, his thighs spreading wide as he pounded away at his dick. He ran his free hand over his chest, pulling at his nipple rings, hissing as the small pain drove him closer to what he desired but not far enough to topple him over the edge.



He tugged harder, almost angrily, and his dick got harder, the precum flowing more furiously, but he was no closer to release. He was almost sobbing as the tension built with no release in sight. He was afraid he would go mad before he obtained his elusive orgasm.



Tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing and falling with the sweat that freely fell from his body as his hand released his balls -- and then it struck.



Combined pain and pleasure, the ultimate agony mingled with the ultimate ecstasy. The electric sensation ran through his body; he lost all control and fell to the damp sheets below him. The screams that tore from his mouth were both rapturous and agonized as he sobbed out his body's release.



"No more," he gasped between sobs as the sensitivity in his body began to decrease, as his screaming nerves subsided into the soreness that would plague the surface of his skin for days. "No more."



"No more," a small voice promised as its owner leaned against the window. Eyes no larger than copper pennies gleamed with determination as tiny hands pressed against the glass. Then, quick as a flit, the tiny being was gone, its silvery gleam lost in the night sky, like so many dancing fireflies. It had work to do. The decision had been made.


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