Caveat Emptor: Determined Lover
by Zenobia Renquist

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
BIN: 05536-01773
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Interracial/MultiCultural, Vampires, Magic
Series: Caveat Emptor (#6)
Length: Novella
Page Count: 46

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1773

Blurb:
Medusa and Darius have escaped with their lives, but to where? The location is an unknown, like their relationship. After nearly two hundred years apart, Darius is ready to move forward, but Medusa cannot reconcile her present self with the past she purposefully forgot. Medusa must decide if dealing with the pain of her past is a fair price for loving the man who would be her future.
Excerpt:
Caveat Emptor: Determined Lover
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 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.


His breath was coming too fast... panting. She could barely feel his heart beating beneath her hand where it rested on his chest. His lean, muscled body was wracked with visible pain. Medusa knew Darius was dying despite his earlier denials.
She wouldn't let that happen. They had been reunited after nearly two centuries apart. Medusa had never thought such a thing possible, but she hadn't known about Darius's immortality. Or perhaps he wasn't immortal when they met. Whatever the case may be, his immortality hadn't come with invulnerability. The spell he'd cast to help them escape death at the hands of his cohorts had stressed his body to the breaking point.
Medusa had to save his life before she could think about reveling in their renewed relationship. Only a few things kept her from acting. First, neither of them had any clothing since they had fled capture after a round of getting re-acquainted sex. Second, Darius's escape spell had landed them on the side of a very high mountain with no path down. Medusa could jump it, but not with Darius in tow. She couldn't use a magical transport spell either. Transporting without knowing where she was or where she wanted to go had its own dangers, but the strain of more magic running through Darius's body might kill him.
That left the cave at their back as shelter against the elements and possible attack. She glanced over her shoulder at the wide opening of the cave. Her vampiric sight, able to pierce any darkness, couldn't make out the back of the cave, which meant it was deep. She couldn't tell if it was inhabited.
Darius wheezed before coughing. His cough had a watery sound and a coppery smell. He had blood in his lungs. She smoothed her hand through his kitten-soft hair in a soothing gesture. The motion calmed her as much as him. She loved petting his hair and watching the light shimmer off the scattered strands of blond and red combined with the brown. She wouldn't lose him.
Medusa didn't have time to worry about what dangers the cave held. She could handle any animal, no matter how big. She needed to get Darius to a safe, secure spot so she could help him recover.
She lifted him against her chest and rushed inside the cave.
"I should be carrying you," Darius whispered. He tried to laugh but it came out as a cough instead.
"You need to shut up and save your strength."
He grunted but didn't try to speak again.
Medusa carried him to the depths of the cave. It went back a fair distance. Good. That meant she would see any intruders long before they saw her. She expected Darius's cohorts any second. There was no way the mages would pass up recapturing an escaped vampire and a mage traitor.
Low growling from an animal stopped Medusa. She placed Darius on the ground behind her, propped against the cave wall, and then faced the oversized lump ahead of her -- the one she had mistaken for a rock a moment ago. It unfolded itself into a very large, very grumpy bear.
"Medusa."
"Quiet. I'll deal with this and then help you." She stayed close to the wall as she paced forward. A quick snap of her metal ring-covered, floor-length dreadlocks near the bear's head would frighten the animal into running from the cave.
She turned her head in a quick jerk while adding a small telekinetic push with her hand so one lock would hit the bear. Except it didn't. Her hair waved forward as though pushed by a breeze and then settled against her side once more. The usual sound of metal links clashing against one another was absent. That was when Medusa remembered her haircut at the time of her capture. The mage holding her had sheared off her hair at the roots and had taken great delight doing it.
The hair grew back in a matter of seconds, resuming its rope-like style as it grew, but the metal links she used to adorn her hair, turning it into twenty lethal chains the use of which she had honed over the last two hundred years, were gone. She had to come up with another method to deal with the bear, who had only grown more agitated with her movements.
She had vampiric speed and strength as well as sight in the inky darkness of the cave, but she didn't want to hurt the bear, only convince him to leave. Maybe a show of power would do it...
She rushed the bear. He smacked her with his paw, and she let the blow knock her to the ground. It was her turn to grunt when he brought his front legs down on her shoulders. The attack might have crushed a mortal, but she hadn't been mortal in a very long time. Sick as the bear was, she could easily have overpowered him, but instead she let him think he was winning.
He went for her neck, ready to rip her throat out, but she grabbed him in a tight hug. His teeth sank into her shoulder as he tried to pull free. She ignored that pain to see her plan through.
The bear had tasted her blood. She knew what that meant for a human -- a mental connection between them, and for the human, longer life, faster healing, and enhanced strength and speed. She only hoped the same held true for other mammals. "Hear me and understand."
The bear stilled. Medusa could smell fear again, but she didn't have time to reassure him. He could understand her. That was all she needed to know.
She loosened her hold. "Let me up."
He released her and jumped back.
She sat up and held her hand out to him. "You didn't hurt me. I did that so you could understand me." She wiggled her fingers at him. "Come here."
He looked at her one way and then the other before stepping forward so she could touch his head.
"Good boy. Good boy. You're a big, beautiful bear, aren't you?" She smiled when the bear grunted. "My friend and I only need shelter. That's all. We didn't mean to disturb you. Can we stay?"
She smiled when he licked her hand.
"Thank you." She gave his head a pat and then turned her attention back to Darius.
His was another heartbeat that didn't sound steady. Unlike the bear, she couldn't feed Darius her blood. Renewed relationship or not, he was still a mage. He might have helped her escape and professed to love her, but that love might not extend to sharing blood with a vampire. Besides, she had something better to share.
She returned to him and knelt at his side. "Darius?"
His odd eyes -- one blue and one brown -- looked at her, but they were unfocused. He tried to speak, but she covered his lips with her finger. She smiled when he kissed her finger.
"You aren't healing. You need power. Take it from me." She placed his hand over her left breast, above her heart.
Darius rasped, "Such beautiful breasts." His fingers twitched as though he would have squeezed the small yet pert mound but he didn't have that much strength.
"Yes, they're lovely. Now take the energy you need."
"Kill you. No." He pulled at his hand, but she held him.
"It won't kill me. I can die one hundred mortal deaths and still be fine. Take my energy, damn it. I won't lose you again. You said you wouldn't die. Have the centuries turned you into a liar?"
Darius sucked in a breath as he closed his eyes.
She thought he was breathing his last until she felt it. His power. He drew on her life force, pulling the energy through her body and into his own. The more he took, the better he got, but the weaker she felt.
The world turned fuzzy and then black. She really hated mortal death. She liked to avoid it at all costs. Only for Darius would she endure it this time.

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Dark Reign-- Atonement by Mychael Black

Dark Reign: Atonement
by Mychael Black

Cover art: Reneé George
BIN: 05542-01775
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Vampires, Werewolves, Gay
Series: Dark Reign (#3)
Length: Novella
Page Count: 38

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1775

Blurb:
Marcus Deleon has spent most of his life saving his fellow weres from the hands of his ex-lover, the vampire Dalton Gray. Now he's facing an all-out war after one of his Enforcers kills several of Gray's guards. The allies he has to rely on can be counted on one hand until unexpected help arrives, bearing the fragile body of an injured were child and inside knowledge into Gray's operations.

Excerpt:
Dark Reign: Atonement
Mychael Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Mychael 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.


Jordan winced with the impact, but he didn't struggle against the werewolf's grip around his throat. The man tightened the hold, claws threatening to pierce Jordan's skin.
From one set of captors into the hands of another. "Deleon. I need to speak to Deleon!" Jordan had expected a cold reception, but he hadn't realized just how strong the wolves were.
"Who are you?"
Despite the hand at his neck, Jordan glanced over to his right. A tall, muscular figure stepped out of the shadows. His long coat obscured his body. When the hood fell back, Jordan could only stare. He'd seen many werewolves in his lifetime, but none quite matched the allure of the man before him.
Jet black hair fell over broad shoulders, and the sharp features of the man's face held no flaws whatsoever. Where Jordan was slim and lithe, this man was nothing but pure muscle. Jesus...
"He asked you a question," the brute with the iron fist growled, snapping Jordan's attention back to the matter at hand. "Answer or..."
"Release him, Vaughn."
"Of course." The brute -- Vaughn, apparently -- stepped back, letting Jordan fall to his knees on the filthy alley pavement.
"You are not one of us." The man in the coat crouched down before Jordan. "You are one of them."
"Jordan Silva." Jordan coughed. He glared at Vaughn, then looked back to the man before him. "I was told to find Deleon."
"Why?"
Jordan gestured to the rusted door a few feet farther down the alley. Vaughn headed for the door and jerked it open. Jordan looked back at the man in front of him. "I was told Deleon could help her."
"Marcus!"
The man -- Marcus -- stood and joined Vaughn. A moment later, they emerged from the doorway, the young girl in Vaughn's arms. Jordan prayed the man was gentle with her. Marcus returned to Jordan, surprising Jordan by offering him a hand up.
"Come with us."
"What? Marcus, he's a vampire!" Vaughn snapped, shooting Jordan a scowl that would've curdled a human's blood.
"Take her home, Vaughn. Tia will look after her."
Vaughn snorted but obeyed without further question. Marcus sighed.
"You must forgive him. He has a strong dislike for your kind."
"After what I've seen, I would too," Jordan said.
Marcus lifted one dark eyebrow. "Why did you leave Gray? Why risk your life for one of ours?"
Jordan stared at a point over Marcus' shoulder. "Working for Gray wasn't exactly by choice. I was ordered to kill her, but I couldn't. I need to speak to Deleon."
"Come. I'm sure he will very much like to hear what you have to say."
Jordan followed Marcus a short distance to a sprawling house surrounded by a tall security fence. Marcus keyed in a series of numbers on the keypad, and the gate unlocked. Jordan didn't see any sign of Vaughn or the girl, and he hoped to the gods she was okay now.
"The others will not take well to a vampire being in our midst," Marcus warned as he led the way up a long driveway. "So long as you stay with me, you will be safe, however."
The front door looming before them opened and Jordan stepped in behind Marcus. The house felt deathly still. Jordan knew the wolves watched him from shadows. Marcus continued down a hall and stopped before another door. He opened it and waved Jordan inside.
"I really need to see Deleon."
Marcus sat behind a dark wood desk, feet propped on the edge, chair tipped back. "So speak."
Jordan sat down, mouth dropping open. "You..." Marcus nodded. "I know this is all suspicious, but I'm here to help."
"Why would a vampire -- one of Dalton's vampires -- help us?" Marcus stood, his chair hitting the floor with a loud bang. Hands braced on the desk, he leaned over and glared at Jordan. "Your kind has done nothing but treat us as slaves. Gray has stolen our people, killed countless others. What the fuck do you want?"
"I know what he's doing," Jordan answered. "And I know where."
Marcus' dark blue eyes narrowed. "What's in it for you?"
"Redemption."

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The Chosen: Ukko's Discovery by Shara Azod

The Chosen: Ukko's Discovery
by Shara Azod

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-60521-768-0
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Dark Fantasy
Theme(s): Magic, Dark Desire
Series: The Chosen (#1)
Length: Novella
Page Count: 34

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1760

Blurb:
Ukko is a general of the Spentas. He fears nothing, backs down from nothing, questions nothing -- until he finds something he can't explain. Who is this mysterious female with powers equal to his? Who sent her? What is her purpose? And the most important question of all -- why doesn't he care about any of that?
Excerpt:
The Chosen: Ukko's Discovery
Shara Azod
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Shara Azod

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.


Nimah was in awe of the blond giant of a man she had gone to San Diego to find. A normal woman might have been freaked out to open her eyes and find herself deep in the heart of Finland. But when had her life ever been normal? She wished like hell she could answer his question, but the problem was she had no idea what she was. She just knew she was different. Always had been. A woman with no family, no history, no idea where she came from or why she could do the things she could. Her entire life she had known only one thing for sure -- one day she would meet this man, and she was meant to be here, in his arms.
Since puberty Nimah had dreamed of him. Ukko of Finland had been the number one constant in her life while all else had been transient. Abandoned at birth, she'd been raised in a series of foster and group homes until she'd turned eighteen. That was when she became aware of three very important things. The first was that she was very different from everyone around her. Her abilities were akin to something seen in a sci-fi movie. She'd had to hide all the things she could do from others all her life. Until now.
The second thing she'd been aware of since puberty was that one day she would meet this man, Ukko, and the gaping hole in the center of her soul would be filled. It made no sense in the conventional way of thinking, but Nimah had always known him. She had seen bits and pieces of his entire existence, an existence that spanned longer than recorded time.
The third thing that had been a constant in her life was the unseen threat always hovering in the shadows. Until tonight she'd never seen those who watched, constantly looking for her and others like her. She didn't know how she knew there were others, but she was as certain of it as she was that Ukko belonged to her, that she belonged to him.
If she wanted to she could will herself back to San Diego right this second. That was the last thing she wanted to do. Honestly, she hadn't wanted to run from him earlier, either. Even though Nimah had dreamed of Ukko, she'd never been able to find him. There was never enough detail in her dreams or visions to pinpoint his location until yesterday, when his location popped into her consciousness, followed by a burning need to go to him. It took nothing to be there; she'd simply closed her eyes and willed herself there. She'd left everything behind just for a chance to finally meet him.
But things went horribly wrong. The homeless man she'd helped seemed to call out to her. In some odd way he was important to her and her future. His mind had been so befuddled, a darkness clouding the thoughts trying to push through -- he wanted to tell her something. He was there for her, and Ukko. Generally she never took the chance to showcase any of her abilities. The unseen threat could find her like that. There was always a cold chill that warned her of their nearness -- a shadow that smelled of pure evil warned her to flee whenever she used any of her gifts.
Nimah had felt the moment Ukko spotted her. His disbelief at what he was seeing as she healed the homeless man, his confusion and suspicion, bombarded her like physical blows. As much as her body and soul cried out for him, her first impulse had been to run. It had been so hard to even think! Her pussy creamed, aching with every step. She wanted to stop and run into his arms, but she just couldn't.
So she'd run from him. Too intent on getting away from the man she wanted desperately but was suddenly unsure of, she'd missed the internal warning hardwired in her brain to disappear whenever an all-too-familiar chill raced down her spine. Their sudden appearance threw her. Expecting hideous, monstrous creatures, she was completely unprepared for the beautiful evil that tried to touch her.
Everything within her had rebelled at the wrongness of their touch. Repelling them had been remarkably easy, but Nimah knew without really knowing that it had been Ukko's presence that enabled her to create the energy that felled them. Then why was it that Ukko, who she knew instinctively was far more powerful than she, could not do as she had done?
"What are you, woman?" Ukko demanded yet again, crushing her body to him. He looked so deliciously furious. Confused and turned on at the same time. Even with his lips pressed into a tight line, they looked so amazingly kissable. Proof of his desire pressed insistently against her. She didn't mean to rub up against it, not really. The sharp tug on her hair in response made her moan, her nipples hardening against his chest.
"I'm yours." The words came out in a whisper of their own will. Nimah didn't expect for them to be received very well. What kind of a man wanted some random woman declaring herself to be his, despite the bizarre circumstances of this entire situation?
In response, his lips crushed hers this time. This kiss was as possessive as the first had been passionate. As if to confirm her statement, Ukko took everything, leaving her panting and breathless before abruptly stepping away. "You are no human woman." Nimah had no idea what he meant by that. As far as she knew she was human. Wasn't she? "You say you are mine, prove it."
"What -- what do you mean?" Her heart thundered in her chest. Had she been wearing underwear, they would have been sodden by now. Her jeans felt abrasive against the bare skin of her cunt. She had prepared for this.
With a wave of his hand, her clothing tore apart, falling at her feet. Though she knew he could have easily disrobed himself in a similar way, he stood fully clothed, his hands going to the fastening of his pants.
"Kneel, Nimah. Show me how much you are mine."

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Fallen by Megan Slayer

Fallen
by Megan Slayer

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-759-8
Genre(s): Paranormal, Dark Fantasy, BDSM
Theme(s): Dark Desire
Length: Novella

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1755

Blurb:
Livia was cast out of heaven for the crime of falling in love with a human. So what's a fallen angel to do when she meets the man of her dreams? Falling certainly has its perks.
Ty didn't expect the angel at his party to be fallen or to have a murky past. He also didn't expect her to end up in his arms. Now he's not about to let the past stand in the way of their future.
Excerpt:
Fallen
Megan Slayer
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Megan Slayer

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.


Parties are so lame.
Livia crossed her arms and stared at the people swaying before her. Hard rock blasted from the speakers and rumbled the floor. She flicked a lock of her hair over her shoulder. Dancing, laughing, and more than enough drinking. She sighed. When was the last time she'd danced and laughed? Hell. She couldn't remember.
She wanted to dance, to wrap her arms around a torso thick with muscle, to rest her head on a taut set of pecs and hear the heartbeat of a red-blooded male like the one she'd drooled over in her history course. He'd mentioned throwing an event. She wanted to see him, to see if he was actually like the persona she'd created for him in her mind.
She snorted. Meeting a guy was probably not the best reason to attend a costume party off campus, but who cared? It wasn't like she had anyone keeping tabs on her.
A young man dressed as a gladiator ambled toward her. "Hel-lo, beautiful." A wide grin curled his lips. His blond hair flopped over his brow as he winked and pointed to her with his sloshing cup. "You shouldn't stand in the corner alone. Might get your wings dirty."
Wings? She crooked one brow. She'd come as a Madonna look-alike, not an angel. When she glanced over her shoulder, sure enough, her wings were there -- translucent, but there. Odd. "They'll wash." Her wings had been ripped off over two thousand years prior. When - and how -- the hell had they come back?
"Yeah?" He wobbled on his feet. "Feathers work in a washing machine?" He burped and his dark eyes widened. "I made a funny." He swayed again and splashed beer onto her bustier.
Livia gritted her teeth. This wasn't the man she had in mind. Her dream man didn't slop alcohol on anyone -- as far as she knew. Was the man in her mind simply a figment of her imagination? An impossibility? Probably. She'd been around far too long and seen more than her share of good men fall by the wayside.
At least washing the beer stench out of her clothes wouldn't be too difficult.
"So, do ya wanna go make out?" He licked his lips. "I'm a great kisser, and I bet you do wonders with those tits."
"Go home, Brett."
Livia's blood turned to fire in her veins. The deep, gravelly voice set her nerves on edge. If the drunken fool would just blow, she could at least see the guy who'd come to her aid. If he was Tyler from history class, then even better.
"Butt out, Ty." Brett smacked his lips. "We were gonna have sex. Me and those lovelies." He reached out, hands hovering over her chest. "Come to Brett. Again."
Again? Who was this clown? "I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man alive," Livia snapped and slapped his hands away. "You spilled beer on me, and you're an ass."
"You'd know." He swayed into her personal space and murmured in a much less slurred tone, "I never forgot you."
Never forgot her? What the hell was this guy drinking? She stared at the drunken gladiator. Nothing about him really stood out. Still, at her age, everything looked a little familiar. He couldn't possibly be him. Isaiah was dead. She'd seen him die over three centuries ago.
"Okay, time for Brett to go home. I don't want shit on my carpet, and she's not interested." The owner of the deep voice stepped out from behind Livia and grabbed Brett's arms. Her jaw dropped. This man was the man. The man. Tyler Wilson embodied her innermost desires, and he was right there protecting her.
Lean muscle filled out Ty's tall frame. What would it feel like to have his hands on her body? To run her fingers through his thick, dark hair and listen to him murmur dirty things as they explored each other's bodies -- what would it be like? A flash of bodies moving together and the look of sheer lust in his blue eyes filled her mind. Oh, good God, it would be almost heaven. Her pussy clenched and liquid heat coated her panties.
If he felt the heat, too. She couldn't hope to be so lucky again. The run-in with Brett or whoever he was had served as a cold reminder of what she'd fallen for and couldn't have.
Both men moved through the throng of people and disappeared. She should stick around and find out if Ty was interested or if he was just keeping an eye on his property. Not that she could blame him. Dumped beer could be murder on a sound system. Not that her opinion mattered much. She was just a partygoer like everyone else there. She folded her arms. Every moment she waited, her conscience ate into her a little more. Waiting made her look weak. It made her look needy. Was she needy?
Maybe. Damn.
No. She'd waited long enough. If he really wanted to talk to her, he'd have come back. She turned and made her way to the apartment door and rummaged through the pile of coats, looking for hers. Guys like Ty had women chasing them in swarms. She'd been witness to that every time she walked out of the Saunders Building. She wasn't going to follow him around like a damned puppy. Coat in hand, she turned toward the door. She plowed into a scantily clad tiger giggling with a cowboy.
"Watch it," the tiger snapped. "Nice wings, though. Costume outlet, or did you get them online? I've been looking for some just like them. I want a set. Michael, buy me some like that."
Livia rolled her eyes. The truth was much too involved. Obscure always worked. "I don't remember."
The cowboy tipped his hat. "Wanna join in?" He bobbed his brows, and his gaze went straight to her chest. "We're always looking for more, and looking at those boobs, you'd be one hell of a third."
"Michael! You said I was the only one," she squealed. "No more thirds."
Michael shrugged. "Can't blame me for asking." He turned his attention back to Livia. "You in?"
If they only knew what she'd done during her lifetime. "I'm good. No thanks." Livia ducked her head and stepped out into the hallway. She didn't look up until she hit the stairwell door.
Finally. Freedom.
Livia stopped on the landing and stared up at the sky through the round stairwell window. Her heart ached. He was out there somewhere. The one man to complete her. Was he still alive? Had she'd only imagined his death? Or was she doomed to walk the Earth for the rest of eternity, alone?
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. It was foolish to pine for the assumed dead, especially when they'd parted so badly. Still, Isaiah held her heart and her life in his hands, just as he'd had for the last couple thousand years.
Footsteps thumped behind her, but she didn't bother to look up.
"Angel?"
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Dragonfire: Chosen by BJ McCall

Dragonfire: Chosen
by B.J. McCall

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-744-4
Genre(s): Action Adventure/ Suspense, Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures
Series: Dragonfire
Length: Novella

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1758

Blurb:
A thousand years ago, two dragon clans went to war over a cache of gold. To end the war a sorcerer hid the gold and foretold of the birth of a female bearing the mark of the dragon.
Born with a dragon on her hip, Karis Nordrath is the chosen and because the mark she's been guarded all of her life. According to legend the location of the gold will be revealed when the chosen is bonded with her dragon mate, but the only dragon that stirs Karis' fire is bodyguard, Rett Aurumon.
Rett left the Fire Mountains to follow a wanderlust he couldn't explain until he laid eyes on Karis. Hired as her bodyguard, Rett doesn't know if his true role is protector or mate. He doesn't know Karis is the chosen, but he knows she's the one.
Excerpt:
Dragonfire: Chosen
B.J. McCall
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 B.J. McCall

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


Rett Aurumon stood in the front foyer of Gaden Hazac's apartment waiting for his client. He walked to the end of the foyer, careful not to step into the spacious living room of glass, chrome and leather. The room had all the warmth of the man who lived within its pale gray walls.
Barefoot and wearing a pair of black sweats, Hazac entered the living room. "She'll be ready shortly. Her hair was mussed."
The tone of the lawyer's voice and his lack of clothing got the point across. Hazac wanted Rett to know he and Miss Nordrath had had sex. Rett had often wondered why the man felt it necessary to make this point to a bodyguard. Rett liked his job and his growing feelings for the woman he was hired to protect were disturbing, but he was certain of one thing. He disliked Gaden Hazac. "Thank you, Mr. Hazac."
The lawyer walked over to a wet bar and poured himself a drink. Then Hazac turned his back on Rett and stared out the window at the city skyline.
Rett hadn't expected his client's boyfriend to engage him in conversation, and he'd never been invited into the living area of the apartment. He didn't mind remaining in the foyer without benefit of restroom or a drink of water. The job required hours of tedious waiting. At least Rett didn't have to listen to Hazac and his client making love.
The driver called to tell Rett the armored vehicle was in front of the building. Rett disconnected and his client entered the living room. Her dark gold hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders. She wore a bright blue blouse that complemented her eyes and a gray skirt that accentuated her trim figure. Rett longed to let his gaze drift slowly down her shapely legs to the high heels she wore, but he kept his focus.
Hazac hustled to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Hey, baby." When Hazac leaned down to kiss her, Miss Nordrath turned so that his lips brushed her cheek. She looked at Rett. "Is the car ready?"
"Waiting out front, Miss Nordrath."
His client stepped back, extricating herself from Hazac. "Goodnight, Gaden."
"I'll call you tomorrow," Hazac said.
Rett opened the front door and checked the hallway. As he escorted his client out of the apartment, Rett glanced at Hazac. "Goodnight, Mr. Hazac."
The lawyer glared at him, then downed his drink.
When they reached the elevator, Rett pushed the call button. "Did you have a nice evening, Miss Nordrath?"
She sighed. "Not one of my best."
They stepped into the empty elevator. "Are you headed home, Miss?"
"Yes, thank you."
As the car descended, Rett took advantage of the private moment to admire his client. She was twenty-seven, stunningly beautiful, with a generous smile and a musical laugh. Her features were delicate, her pale golden skin was flawless, her neck graceful, her breasts nicely rounded, her waist trim, her ass perfect and her legs long.
And the dreams she wrought were making his nights pure agony.
She glanced at him and smiled. Rett was sure she'd caught him looking, but was saved by the loud ding of the elevator bell, announcing they'd descended to the lobby floor. The doors opened. Rett stepped out first and checked the building's foyer before his client exited the car.
He repeated the security check as they exited the building.
"Rett, why don't you call me Karis?"
Because I need the reminder that I'm just an employee.
"I'm following instructions, Miss."
"My father's instructions? You have my permission to call me Karis."
"Thank you, Miss."
He opened the back door of the Nordrath vehicle. Karis' car was heavily armored with a trained driver at the wheel. Rett rarely left her side. She climbed into the vehicle, then looked up at Rett and grinned. "You're not going to do it, are you?"
He grinned back. "No, Miss."
Rett shut the heavy door. He'd never say it out loud, but that wouldn't stop him from thinking of her as Karis.
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Star Prince by Ashlynn Monroe

Star Prince
by Ashlynn Monroe

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-758-1
Genre(s): Futuristic, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Sci-Fi
Theme(s): Dark Desire, Alternative Universe
Length: Novella
Page Count: 81

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1762

Blurb:
Tasmin Robins has worked hard to earn her coveted diplomatic internship on the mysterious imperial world of Aurora. Driven and smart, though occasionally impulsive, Tas has a ten-year plan -- and it doesn't include love.
When Tasmin risks her life to save a stranger, she has no idea her sacrifice will leave her fate entwined with the most powerful man on Aurora -- DeMarcus Le'JeMur, Prince of the Stars and Ruler Of The Seven Kingdoms, ruler of the planets under Aurorian control.
When DeMarcus impulsively declares he owes Tasmin a life debt, she must convince the Imperial Council to grant them both their freedom. But after a night of erotic delights with the sexy alien, will she be able to let him go?
Excerpt:
Star Prince
Ashlynn Monroe
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Ashlynn Monroe

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.


"Stay down!" Tasmin Robins pulled the man at her side behind the large refuse bin. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled low on his face and sunglasses, hiding his expression.
Screams from her fellow humans made the usually quiet terminal chaotic. Glistening metallic and marble surfaces usually made the shuttle port's loading dock feel orderly and sterile in an utterly comforting way, reminding her of her home back on Earth. Now the shining surfaces reflected laser fire from a source she couldn't pinpoint.
Ball cap guy tried to stand up again. Her hand was small, but she managed to snag a substantial handful of his oversized blue sweatshirt. She yanked sharply, pulling him back down. His faded blue jeans made a small tearing sound as the rip over his right knee widened.
"Je'L afremtal," he cursed in a language she hadn't expected to hear.
"You aren't from Earth. Why are you here? These ships are for Earth Embassy personnel only." Tasmin did her best to stop glaring at the interloper. He wasn't the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last, to try to score a free ride to Earth.
"You know nothing." With his heavily accented comment, he managed to convey a rude superiority she found instantly irritating.
"I know you're going about visiting my home planet the wrong way. It's gotten a lot easier to get a visa now. Only a criminal would need to sneak onboard an embassy flight," Tasmin hissed.
She paused, her eyes round and her mouth forming a subtle Ohh. "Are they shooting at you, specifically?" she whispered, hearing the horror in her own voice upon realizing she was hiding from an unseen gunman with his probable target.
"Yes, but not because I am criminal." The man's English was good, but not perfect. "Stay down, woman!" He abruptly crouched and began to move to the left, around the corner.
Tasmin saw the red dot on his back. The shooter had his laser fixed on the Aurorian. Without thinking about the consequences of her reckless action, she sprang forward, pushing the man down. Pain radiated through her middle. A gasp escaped her lips as she fell. Lying on the cold marble floor, she saw a red trail creeping across the smooth white marble in front of her face.
Blood. Her blood. Transfixed at the sight, she lay quietly while chaos erupted around her. Tasmin felt cold. Strangely, she could hear screaming and shouting, but no more shots. Blinking, she cleared the moisture from her eyes. They'd watered, but she wasn't crying. Weak tears weren't in her nature. She hurt too much to move. All she could do was listen.
"Je'L huten le grubi Me'L?"
She tried to make sense of another male voice. He, too, spoke in Aurorian. This part of the terminal was human only. Why so many aliens in the restricted area? she wondered through the haze of pain. Her fuzzy mind strained to translate. She'd studied hard when she learned she was coming to Aurora for her internship. She spoke the language better than some of the long-term personnel. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Focus.
"My prince, are you hurt?" She was almost positive she'd translated correctly.
My Prince? It can't be.
Medical staff began to swarm around her.
"Leheck leheim ge ha Je'L Velhum." See to the woman, your prince has commanded it.
The Star Prince. I can't believe it.
The paramedics murmured humbly at their liege. More aliens where they shouldn't be. She could see the boots of both human and Aurorian soldiers swarming around him, protecting the valuable man.
She saw her reflection in the mirrored door across from where she'd fallen. Her long auburn hair lay tangled around her. She could see it absorbing some of her pooling blood. Her normally fair completion was ghastly white. She already looked dead.
Tas could see her charred wound, and her internal organs. She stared into her own big brown eyes, unable to look any lower. Her wound was horrifying, survival unlikely. Her mother and sister would be so sad. I just wish I could tell them I'm sorry.
"Tetung Valumspar. Hejar L' Vomek." I owe her a life debt. She belongs to me.
What he'd said didn't frighten her because she didn't think she'd live long enough to worry about the consequences of his proclamation. She couldn't hold on any longer. Even with the realization that she'd just saved the life of the Star Prince, the most powerful man in all of Aurora, the man who ruled the seven kingdoms, she couldn't keep her eyes open. Her lashes fluttered. Darkness overcame her and her mind shut off.
* * *
Dripping.
The sound of dripping woke Tasmin from her deep, dreamless sleep. She forced her blurry eyes open. Her mouth felt as dry as dust. The window was open and a slight breeze ruffled the gauzy pale peach curtains. The walls were the same shade. Her body hurt. Turning away from the window, she noticed a large bank of medical monitoring equipment, all of it Aurorian design. She could tell she wasn't in a hospital, but there was nothing in the small room to indicate where she actually was.
"Oh... ow... ouch, fuck," she muttered, forcing herself to sit up in the bed. On the wall across from her sat a long table filled with bouquets, rows of them. They also covered the floor under the table. Many looked wilted, and it made her wonder just how long she'd been out of commission.
Looking down, she noticed the huge hole in her body was gone. She wore a sheer light nightie in a color she'd never seen on Earth. The only way to describe it was blue with a dark pink sheen. There was more to the color, but she just didn't have any reference on Earth to describe it. She felt a sensation akin to joy just looking at the way the garment shimmered, reflecting the light. Many colors and scents on Aurora were so multidimensional that they actually caused physical reactions in humans.
The style of her scant clothing reminded her of something a sexy genie might wear. Blushing, she couldn't help but wonder who'd dressed her in the garment. Moreover, how many people had seen her naked, unconscious body?
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Lionsblood Collection by Marteeka Karland

Lionsblood (Collection)
by Marteeka Karland

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-60521-766-6
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Collections
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Audio Books
Series: Lionsblood
Length: Collection
Page Count: 165

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1764

Blurb:
In Earth's brutal, future frozen, humans are no longer at the top of food chain. Paranormals roam the frozen wastes, laying claim to whatever they can defend. Humans are tolerated by some, but not all of the new species.
The most vicious of the new races are the Lionsblood. No one dares defy a Lionsblood. These predators take what they want and never look back. These men are as protective as they are dangerous -- especially when it comes to their chosen mates.
This collection contains the previously released novellas Lionsblood, Lionsmate, Lionsbane, and Lionsheart.
Excerpt:
Lionsblood
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Marteeka Karland
Excerpt from Snowbound: Lionsblood
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
"What?" The familiar masculine growl of her long time friend Klark almost made Marie sob with relief when he answered on the third chime.
"Klark, I'm so sorry to call this late." She had probably awakened him from his nightly hibernation. Most lionsblood were already deeply asleep by two hours past nightfall. It protected them from the bitter cold that blanketed the northern hemisphere of Earth at night. Not that the temperature was much better during the day. Given the fact that he'd answered at all, he probably hadn't settled down yet for the night.
"Don't worry about it. What's wrong?" He knew her too well. Unless she missed her guess, Klark wouldn't let her gloss anything over. He'd make her tell him everything before the night was out.
"Nothing's wrong, I just need a ride home."
There was a long pause.
"Where are you?"
She took a deep breath. This was the hard part. "Shiffley's Bar."
Again, there was silence.
"Do you have the gem I gave you?"
Marie blinked several times, the question catching her off guard. "Yes." She didn't dare tell him she'd made it into a necklace she never took off.
"Go to Shiff. Show him the stone. He'll put you in a safe room. Do not leave that room."
The link went dead, and Marie cringed. They'd been friends too long for her to hope he'd let this drop. He might not question her tonight, but there would be a grilling, and Klark never stopped until he had all the information he wanted. Not only that, but given Klark's temper, things didn't bode well for her tonight.
She did as he instructed and was shown to a tiny room. She sat down on the bed. The one window was laser-proof and tinted, but she could still see the perpetual drifts of snow that blanketed the landscape outside. Shiff, the vampire lionsblood hybrid, kept the room as a haven for humans caught out in the violent night. Not only were the preternaturals and immortals deadly to humans, but the night turned the Earth into a frozen wasteland in excess of 100 degrees below zero in the summer, and 150 below in the winter. The only things keeping humans alive were the underground farms and the few above ground "safe rooms" the hybrids built for their "pets." This safe room was impenetrable, and impossible to leave unless Shiff allowed it.
When the heavy titanium door burst open, only to slam shut so hard her insides shook, naturally she nearly jumped out of her skin. What a time for him to choose to remind her of the strength of a lionsblood. In this world, the lionsblood were at the top of the food chain.
"Jesus Holy God!" She was at once relieved to see Klark standing there, but her relief was short lived. He looked livid.
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Protect and Serve 13: The Big Blue by Anne Kane

Protect and Serve: The Big Blue
by Anne Kane

Cover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-754-3
Genre(s): Futuristic, Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense
Theme(s): Shapeshifters, Men and Women in Uniform
Series: Protect and Serve
Length: Novella

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1752

Blurb:
Polar bear shifters are rare these days, and most of them keep a low profile. Tundra knows the rules, but tonight she needs to get laid and it will take a strong man to satisfy her.
Alec's buddies call him the Big Blue, and they're closer to the truth than most of them know. Trolls have a nasty reputation in this brave new world.
The very first time Tundra sees Blue, she knows she has to have him. What she doesn't realize is that she'll never want to let him go. When Alex goes to confront the head of a vicious Cabal, Tundra follows to make sure he doesn't get hurt. After all, even a troll's hide isn't as thick as a polar bear's.
Excerpt:
Protect and Serve: The Big Blue
Anne Kane
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Anne Kane

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 stalked across the bar and hauled myself up onto one of the few empty barstools. It looked like the entire neighborhood had decided to drown their sorrows at the same time. At least that meant there was a good selection of men available. Good thing, because right now I was feeling hornier than a werewolf during the full moon, and pissed enough not to be too picky about whom I chose to spend the night with. Talks with my self-appointed guardian Tyrone always had this effect on me. Make that monologues. I don't think I'd managed to get in more than two words during the entire fiasco.
I waved my hand to catch Sam's attention, and motioned him to bring me a drink. Sam had been bartending at Joe's Bar long enough to know what I wanted. I swiveled the chair and surveyed the room, considering my options. The three guys at the pool table weren't bad looking, and there were a few likely candidates at a table in the far corner, but they all looked just a tad too civilized for my taste tonight. I was in the mood for something wild.
A gust of wind drew my attention to the door. The man who entered sent heat curling deep in my gut. Civilized was the last word that came to mind. Hard. Wild. Uncivilized. Yeah, those described him to a T.
A riot of dark hair curled all the way to the blue uniform stretched tight across his huge shoulders. He reminded me of the football players at the inner city stadiums, wide and covered with thick ropes of muscle. A tingle of anticipation raced through me. His dark eyes swept the room with cynical disinterest as he shouldered his way through the noisy crowd, and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to notice me.
"He's trouble, Tundra. Don't even think about it." Sam slapped the beer down in front of me, breaking the spell.
"You know him?" I ignored the bartender's frown. I was way past needing someone to vet my dates. "I don't remember seeing him in here before."
Sam nodded. "Alex is a loner, a beat cop down at the precinct. He doesn't come in here often. Last time he did, it took me two days to clean up the mess." He leaned forward, lowering his voice so I had to strain to hear his words. "I heard a rumor that there's a troll somewhere in his family tree, and I'm inclined to believe it."
"Really." I swept my tongue across my suddenly dry lips as I watched the slide of tight material over his ass. "That could make things very... interesting." Sam snorted and shook his head as I took a long pull on my drink. "That's one word for it. Don't say I didn't warn you!"
I laughed, throwing him a saucy grin as I slid off the barstool. "Warning duly noted. Wish me luck!" Turning my back on his disapproving frown, I wound my way through the dense crowd toward my target.
He'd taken a seat at a small table and was watching the trio at the pool table mangle a simple game of spots and stripes. One of the scantily clad waitresses swooped in to deposit a drink in front of him, bending forward so far that I fully expected her ample bosoms to fall out of the low-cut bodice of her dress. She had better not be under the impression that she stood a chance with him, because I was more than willing to get into a fight tonight. A little pre-coitus bloodshed would be just a bonus.
The man tossed some credits at her, and she flounced away to take orders from another table. I found myself feeling mildly disappointed. I hadn't been in a good fight in at least two moons. Wouldn't hurt to get in a little practice.
Reaching my destination, I pulled out the other chair at the table and sat down beside my target. I took my time assessing him close up, letting my gaze wander from the tips of his serviceable boots and up his muscular legs to the impressive bulge at his groin. Looked like I wouldn't have to work too hard to get what I wanted.
I took another gulp of my beer and considered the vast expanse of his chest, barely covered by the tight uniform. A unicorn tattoo on his biceps seemed incongruous with the rough attitude, and being my usual tactful self, I decided not to mention it.
Yeah, right. Me? Tactful? "So what's with the prissy little horse?" I nodded at the tattoo. "Lose a bet or something?"
I found myself staring into the darkest eyes I'd ever encountered; pools of liquid heat. For a moment, I thought I'd blown my chance of playing ride-em cowboy with him, but then the corners of his eyes crinkled and he let out a bellow of real, straight-from-the-gut laughter. It made him look even hotter, which I hadn't thought possible. My libido kicked into high gear, and I could feel the liquid heat gathering at the apex of my thighs. Idly, I wondered if he'd go for the direct approach and save us both some time. I decided not to risk it.
"The prissy little horse has a certain sentimental value that I only share with close friends." The man's eyes swept over me with obvious interest. "Do I know you?"
I decided to play it cool and mysterious. Who knows? It worked on those old video flicks they showed on public TV. "Not yet, but the night is young." Okay, that just sounded stupid. I smiled in what I hoped was a seductive manner. "My name is Tundra."
A slow, sexy smile turned his face into an open invitation -- one I had every intention of accepting. When he spoke, his voice had the smooth, deep inflection of a very old bottle of expensive whiskey. "That's a very unusual name. Nice to meet you, Tundra."
He held his hand out and I stared at it like an idiot. He wanted to shake hands? Not exactly what I'd envisioned, but hey, it was a start. I took his hand and shook it. It was big. Real big. Heat crawled up my spine as I imagined it caressing my breasts. Or sliding across my naked ass. "Nice to meet you too..." I arched my eyebrow as it occurred to me I had no idea what his name was.
The smile widened. "Alex. But most people just call me Big Blue."
I took a long drink, letting the silence stretch out. "Big Blue. How interesting. Referring to your uniform, I assume?"
He chuckled. "Well, that would be the Blue part."
"And the Big?" It took all my self-control to keep my gaze from straying to that thick bulge at his groin.
He kept eye contact, the grin on his face taking on a mischievous look as he reached for my hand and drew it slowly toward his lap. He didn't say anything else. He didn't have to. Under my questing fingers, that huge lump grew even bigger. Big Blue indeed! "Oh my."
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Razor's Edge-- Good Neighbors by Clarice Clique

Razor's Edge: Good Neighbors
by Clarice Clique

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-60521-917-2
Genre(s): Razor's Edge Press, Hot Flashes, BDSM
Theme(s): Interracial/MultiCultural, Ménage, Bisexual and More
Length: Hot Flash
Page Count: 21

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1754Blurb:
In a state of undress, getting ready for work in the morning, a woman glances out of her window and sees her female neighbor staring back at her. An adventure of voyeurism and teasing begins, but where will it end?
Excerpt:
Good Neighbors
Clarice Clique
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Clarice Clique

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 first time was an accident.
A typical Monday morning, running around wildly, making a mess of everything. I grabbed my mug for a last gulp of coffee and splattered it over my blouse. I pulled it off, yanking a button loose in the process. I searched through my wardrobe, throwing my skimpy party tops to the side, praying that I had another clean office top. Finally I found one, but the material was too thin. You could see through it to my lacy bra, and through that to the dark circles of my nipples. I took a deep breath, pulled the new blouse and the bra off, and looked for more appropriate underwear. With a plain bra in my hand, I turned to glance at my alarm clock. But it wasn't the time that caught my attention. Out of the corner of my eye, through the window, I saw her. And I froze.
I'd never bothered with blinds on the bedroom window of my little terraced house. It overlooked farm fields and the garden of one big detached house, and I'd never seen any need to obscure my view for the sake of privacy. I knew a man and a woman lived in the detached house from glimpsing them in their garden occasionally, but I never saw them out and about in the village, and if I had we weren't even on the "Hi, how are you?" level of casual acquaintances.
Yet, here I was, dressed only in my stockings and office skirt, staring straight into the eyes of my neighbor.
My heart thumped in my chest and I seemed unable to move and do the simple thing of drawing the curtains, or even put a modest hand over my naked breasts. Instead I gazed into the teasing green eyes of the woman who was staring unabashedly at me. She was wearing a short summer dress that moved with the morning breeze, allowing me to appreciate how slim and long her white legs were. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders. If anyone had asked me before, I would have struggled to recall whether she was blonde or brunette. In the light of the morning sun, I could clearly see all the different colors -- red, brown, gold, light and darker strands mingling together to create a vision of beauty.
I felt giddy looking at her and forced myself to drop my gaze. My eyes lowered to the curve of her chest pushing against the material of her dress.
Color rushed to my cheeks. I stepped forward, pulled the curtains closed and tried to focus my mind on getting ready for the work day. As I put my bra on, I looked down at the pink-brownness of my nipples. Had my neighbor been able to see how hard they were from where she was standing?
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Wild Things: Fanged by Jocelyn Michel

Wild Things: Fanged
by Jocelyn Michel

Cover art: Karen Fox
ISBN: 978-1-60521-731-4
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Vampires, Werewolves
Series: Wild Things
Length: Novella
Page Count: 37

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1753

Blurb:
Cassidy's searching for mythical monsters in Romania, but she has no clue Andrei, her guide, is just what she's hunting!
Cassidy Kerrigan has reluctantly left her computer to assume the role of host for a brand new prime-time monster hunt called Wild Things. Relying heavily on her hunky guide/cameraman, Andrei Dinu, she crosses the ocean to explore the mountains of Romania.
Her assignment? Prove or debunk once and for all the werewolf myth. But the weather doesn't cooperate, and when rain drives them into a cave, Cass begins to suspect that Andrei is more than he seems. Can mutual passion overcome her fears? And what will happen when the werewolf of myth proves to be much, much more?
Excerpt:
Wild Things: Fanged
Jocelyn Michel
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Jocelyn Michel

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 slowly turned, overwhelmed by my exotic surroundings. Instead of the smog, pricey boutiques and crazy traffic that were LA, I saw intricately carved barns, restored peasant houses and a castle straight out of a Dracula movie. Romania. Wow. It was hard to believe that barely a month ago, I'd sat across the desk from a couple of producers at Earth Broadcasting Network, pitching my idea for a new series that I'd called Wild Things. The concept? A rugged male hunk of a host would tramp all over the planet in search of world myths to prove or debunk them. Since there were already primetime monster hunts out there and EBN preferred an R rating, I'd stipulated that his only companion must be a sexy female guide/photographer. If our pair had the right chemistry, our targeted demographic would watch every week just to find out whether or not they'd hooked up.
How could I have guessed that the network CEO, my estranged father Sean Kerrigan, wouldn't green light the pilot unless I took on the role of host? Me, the klutz who'd never even slept in a backyard tent. A chauvinist in the throes of a midlife crisis, Dad had dumped my mom for a younger model eight months ago. I'd ignored him ever since -- no visits, no phone calls, no texts. And if we passed each other in the hall, I kept my shoulders squared and my eyes straight ahead. Was this his way of getting back at me for all the cold shouldering? I was sure of it. Could I have simply blown him off? Not with my rent, car payment and credit card debt. I was overdue for a killer idea, and this was definitely it. So now I fumed, even though I stood smack in the middle of the most beautiful scenery in the world.
"Cass! There you are." My prissy director, Beau Truman, motioned for me to join him in front of the castle, which I knew dated from the twelfth century. Yeah, I'd done my homework and might actually have appreciated this incredible opportunity just a little if I hadn't known my jerk of a dad was behind the scenes, yanking my strings.
I walked over. "Morning, Beau."
"How are you feeling, luv?"
"Fine, so far." I lied, of course. At the moment I didn't have butterflies in my stomach, I had bats -- big ones -- which made sense, I guess. Transylvania was just a stone's throw away.
"Good. I want to introduce you to your gorgeous guide." Though Beau winked, he looked at me a little anxiously, probably because I'd confided my doubts about surviving in the wild. Not that I wasn't physically fit. I was, thanks to another bill that had to be paid -- gym membership. I also had camera skills, a result of my college degree. But I didn't have a clue how to find and protect myself from wolves, or in this case werewolves, the terrifying myth that was my first quest. Just getting to Romania had been challenging enough. I'd have to rely heavily on my guide to get me where I needed to be and keep me safe.
Beau led me to a tan Land Rover that had definitely seen better days. The driver's door stood open. Behind the wheel sat a good-sized guy with one weathered boot planted on the ground. From the back, I could see that he had shaggy dark hair, wide shoulders and long legs. He wore what I'd call safari gear, as did I -- khaki pants with lots of pockets and a button shirt with the kind of sleeves that I could push up and secure with a tab. Mine was OD green; his was red. I liked his better.
"Andrei, this is Cassidy Kerrigan. Cass, Andrei Dinu."
My guide got out of the vehicle and turned to face us. Nothing could've prepared me for his eyes -- glacial blue with long, thick lashes. I'd have killed for peepers like that. Mine were almost as black as my hair. Not unusual for the "Dark Irish," but definitely not the blue-eyed blond look I'd always admired.
As for the rest of Andrei Dinu -- the tall, well-proportioned, muscular rest of him -- well, my pussy zinged to life. Annoyed, I ruthlessly quelled my lust. If there was ever going to be a time to ignore my sexual impulses, this would be it.
I offered my hand. "Nice to meet you."
Andrei shook it, checking out my French-tipped nails. Feeling dwarfed by his height and slightly intimidated, I jerked my hand away and stuck it behind my back. His expression never changed, but I got the distinct feeling he disapproved. His cool appraisal, which started at my ponytail and traveled to the toes of my snazzy new hiking boots -- pink camo, no less -- pretty much proved it. That rankled. Though I was only five-three, I had as much heart as he did, and no woman on the planet had ever been more determined to succeed.
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State of Affairs by Dany Sirene

State of Affairs
by Dany Sirene

Cover art: Reneé George
ISBN: 978-1-60521-756-7
Genre(s): Dark Fantasy
Theme(s): Ménage, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay and Lesbian
Length: Novella
Page Count: 63

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1756

Blurb:
Jade Harron has been tapped for a very delicate mission. Twin kingdoms, at war for ages, only have one chance at alliance: union by marriage. But someone doesn't want the warring kingdoms united. No way the king's willing to put his daughter's neck on the line! But he's got the perfect spy for the role -- half-Elf and cross-dressing courtesan Jade Harron, of course.
Somehow Jade's not convinced Prince Keandre will be all that pleased when he discovers their deception. Then again, what will they do if the prince prefers to keep his Elven "Bride"? And then there's Jade's former lover, Gareth, Captain of Prince Keandre's guard and keeper of his secrets... and secret desires. Gareth knows far too much about Jade's past. Will he expose Jade for who he is? Or coerce him back to his bed?
Jade has a feeling no matter how this ill-conceived affair turns out, his life will never be the same. Danger, deception, espionage and unbridled lust -- all politics as usual in this decadent court.

Excerpt:
State of Affairs
Dany Sirene
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Dany Sirene

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Holding up the flouncy skirts with the easy grace of a dancer, I pranced into the assembly hall, right past the guards whose eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of their sockets. I stopped in the entranceway and curtsied with a flourish to the king and queen of Aleyne. The king stared at me, trying really hard not to show his astonishment.
"Good evening, Your Majesties," I said in my most melodious girly voice -- my trademark and the best part of my act. "You wished to see me?"
The king shook his head. The queen looked utterly scandalized and hid her face behind her fan.
"Seriously, Master Harron. Was this really necessary? It's... disconcerting, to say the least," the king said with a disapproving look.
I assumed an expression of insulted innocence. "I simply didn't wish to waste my time or yours."
The king heaved a sigh. "All right. The illusion is believable enough, I'll give you that. But could you foil an assassination attempt in this..." He gestured at the puffy under-layers of lace peeking out from beneath the sky-blue silk skirt.
"Crinoline," I finished helpfully. "I assure you, my combat skills are in no way diminished by --"
At the king's signal, the guard who stood just behind me pulled out a knife and lunged at me. I reached up and gripped the guard's wrist. The blade stopped just inches away from my elaborate coiffure. Stifling a yawn, I gave his arm a little twist. The guard gasped in pain and let go of the blade, which clattered to the floor. I let go of him instantly, and the man rubbed his wrist, muttering a few extremely unflattering words.
I smiled coquettishly at their majesties and patted my hair. "Any other questions?"
The queen's mouth was a little painted "O" of shock on her pale face. The king cleared his throat, trying to collect himself. "Yes. You do understand that this is a highly sensitive political matter."
"Of course."
"And therefore discretion is absolutely crucial."
I tried not to let my disappointment show. "Yes, my lord. Of course."
"Now, the story is, Princess Amalia is my darling Lisele's little sister. No one has seen her up to this point because she was raised in a convent." He paused and glared at me. "A convent, Master Harron. Integrate this knowledge into your act if you can."
I nodded, trying not to crack up. "That's all very well. I also know that the people of Levant are known for their pious chastity, but I still think Prince Keandre will notice that something is not quite right when the wedding night comes around."
"Harron, this is serious," the king fumed. "And it won't come to that. Once you get there, your job is to figure out who is sending the threats to assassinate my Lisele, and to... deal with them. Then I will revoke my decision and send Princess Lisele in your place."
"Yes, sir, but are you sure it won't cause political, ah, frictions?"
The king's expression made me want to swallow my tongue. "You let me worry about that, Master Harron. You just do what I assigned you to do, nothing more and nothing less, without making an idiot of yourself and this whole court by extension. Think you can handle that?"
I broke out in a cold sweat under the tightly laced corset of the gown, swallowed the lump in my throat, and nodded.
"That's all. You will be leaving first thing tomorrow."
And thus, my fate was sealed.
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Shibari Auction House 1: Jack by Sean Michael

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Razor's Edge: Puck You Two by Elizabeth Jewell

Razor's Edge: Puck You, Two
by Elizabeth Jewell

Cover art: Marteeka Karland
ISBN: 978-1-60521-916-5
Genre(s): Razor's Edge Press, Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary)
Theme(s): Gay and Lesbian
Series: Puck You
Length: Hot Flash
Page Count: 19

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Blurb
When Philippe Bessette runs into Jaroslav Láska in a bar, he knows he should walk away. But Láska knows what Bessette wants, and this time he's going to make Bessette beg for it.


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Love Reversed by Zenobia Renquist

Love Reversed
by Zenobia Renquist

Cover art: Karen Fox
ISBN: 978-1-60521-747-5
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense
Theme(s): Interracial/MultiCultural, Magic
Length: Novella
Page Count: 65

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Blurb
Cinnamon came to the Hawaii celebrity retreat to meet her favorite actress. Calhoun crashed to find answers about his missing uncle. Neither of them signed on for the part of the tour that included body swapping. They have to find a way to switch back without anyone realizing their predicament. Long nights of searching for answers become even longer when curiosity takes over. It's a once in a lifetime chance to see how the other half loves, and they don't plan to let it slip away.
Excerpt
Love Reversed
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.


Cinnamon spotted Calhoun walking away from the outdoor banquet back toward the hotel. He must have forgotten something in his room. The man didn't act like he wanted to be at the retreat even though he had paid a lot of money to get a room at the overbooked hotel hosting it. He showed no interest in the people or the events, and actually seemed annoyed to be there.
So why come? It made no sense.
Normally something like that wouldn't bug her but he drew her eye. It had to be the full sleeve of tattoos that covered his right arm from his wrist all the way up the back of his bald scalp.
Beautiful art, no matter where it was located, always caught her eye. Calhoun's sepia-colored tattoos had clean, sharp lines defining each of the religious symbols -- Ancient Egyptian scarabs, Chinese dragons, Celtic runes, and so on. She could only guess he wanted to cover all the bases.
She would love to meet his tattoo artist just in case she ever got up the nerve to actually get ink of her own. The pain didn't deter her. She just didn't know what she wanted or where she wanted it. That had to mean she wasn't ready to get one.
Asking about tattoos and artists would have to wait. She had another reason to seek out Calhoun, so she followed him to the back of the hotel near the delivery and loading area. While she didn't want to miss the rest of the dinner, she did want her bracelet back. Calhoun had said he could fix it easily. His wandering around had to mean it was finished. If not, she would rather he simply return it so she could get it fixed somewhere else.
Calhoun entered a glass door that had Employees Only embossed on it in big, bold lettering. He wasn't an employee. He had arrived on Hawaii the same day she had. That's how he ended up with her bracelet. It snagged on his suitcase at the baggage claim carousel while she tried to retrieve her own bag. The result -- a broken bracelet clasp.
The door slammed shut behind him, and Cinnamon waited. He would come out any second after he realized his mistake... if it was a mistake. Though she couldn't reason why it wouldn't be a mistake. Maybe he'd gone in search of a restroom, which meant he would exit any minute.
She watched the door, but Calhoun didn't exit. While the cool night breeze felt good against her legs, she couldn't stand there forever, waiting for him. When a big cheer sounded from the area where the banquet was taking place, Cinnamon glanced in that direction then looked back at the door. Still no Calhoun.
Well, whatever he was doing in there was none of her business. She turned and headed back to the banquet. She had paid a lot of money to get to Hawaii so she could visit with Dannah Ridge, a legendary black actress who had been Cinnamon's idol from the moment she laid eyes on the woman. Some people even said Cinnamon looked like a younger Dannah, except Cinnamon's breasts were bigger, and her cheeks sported dimples instead of a beauty mark.
A rustling sound drew her attention back to the employees' entrance. Two men carrying a wriggling, writhing duffel bag between them went through the same door.
Cinnamon frowned. Maybe it was paranoia talking, but that bag had looked a lot like a person struggling to get out. She shook her head, dismissing her silly ideas. Too many cop dramas had her seeing crimes where there were none. Except... she couldn't stop staring at the door.
Had the men run into Calhoun and attacked him for being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or maybe Calhoun was meeting them. He had crashed the party. If not for Dannah's fellow actor and long time paramour Flint East, Calhoun would have never gotten a room at the hotel because they were booked solid for the all-star retreat -- an event featuring actors of old and their adoring fans.
Did that mean Calhoun had crashed to do something shady? And maybe Flint East was helping him and that was how a room had miraculously become available?
Cinnamon found herself walking toward the door. Despite Calhoun's rough exterior and gruff attitude, she couldn't see him as the type who would harm someone without just cause. Her instincts about people were usually right.
As she reached for the doorknob, she muttered, "This is the part in the horror movie when the audience writes off the woman as TSTL for not minding her own business and then laughs when her stupidity gets her killed."
Thankfully, her life wasn't a movie, especially not a horror movie. She still hoped her nosy nature didn't get her into trouble.
She slipped past the door quickly, throwing a glance over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed her or raised an alarm. Everything remained quiet. She looked for clues to Calhoun's whereabouts. The door led to a long corridor with doors at odd intervals. Cinnamon didn't plan to check the doors in case people were behind them that might object to her being there. She did peek into the few rooms with open doors.
Nothing.
If Calhoun and those mystery men with the duffel bag were there, they were hiding. She shrugged and chalked it up to a loss. Calhoun had to come out some time. She would get her bracelet back from him then.
Someone grabbed her from behind, clapped their hand over her mouth, and pulled her back into the shadows against a solid chest. She prepared to employ every technique she had learned in self-defense class.
"Next time you want to sneak up on me, try wearing less perfume, Cinnamon." Calhoun whispered those words so close to her ear that his hot breath feathered across her cheek. "What are you doing here?"
She pulled his hand down and whispered back, "What about you? I doubt you're an employee. And what happened to those two guys with the duffel bag?"
"Saw them, did you?"
"Yes. They came in right after --"
Calhoun put his hand back over her mouth and backed up farther into the room. Cinnamon didn't understand why until two more men with another writhing duffel bag walked past.
She waited for the sounds of their footsteps to fade before she pulled Calhoun's hand down once more and whispered, "Tell me those guys aren't carrying what I think they're carrying."
"What do you think they're carrying?" Again Calhoun spoke with his mouth close to her ear. His rumbling voice sent shivers up her spine whose cause she would contemplate when she wasn't in a potentially dangerous situation.
"A person trying to get out."
"Beauty and brains. Perceptive women like you are dangerous."

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Best Man by Willa Okati

Best Man
by Willa Okati

Cover art: Karen Fox
ISBN: 978-1-60521-751-2
Genre(s): Guilty Pleasures (Contemporary)
Theme(s): Gay and Lesbian
Length: Novella
Page Count: 49

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Blurb
Alexander's a man with an uncommonly happy disposition. His luck always holds true, and he takes chances with cheerful abandon. When he sees a New Year's Eve wedding running amok and a hot best man in need of help before Bridezilla goes boom, it's second nature for him to step in to lend a hand with the last-minute disasters that plague every wedding. The way Alexander sees it, he's earning good karma, winning over the adorable best man -- and he might just already be falling in love.
Excerpt
Best Man
Willa Okati
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Willa Okati

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


"What's life without dreams? Without hope? Call me a cock-eyed optimist, but I believe that no opportunity isn't worth taking."
"Because they always work out for you."
"I'll share my luck, if you want." Alexander cupped his hand and blew a puff of winter smoke at Shawn. "There. You're set. And, Mother? No bursting anyone's bubbles."
"It's a nice thought, Alexander, but I can't even keep a plant alive. I killed a cactus by forgetting to water it. How does someone even begin to kill a cactus?" Shawn muttered.
"That does take skill," Josephine admitted. She patted Shawn's back with one small, gloved hand. "Perennial optimism is neither better nor worse than persistent pessimism. The right one for both of you is right around the bend. Six marriages, remember? I got it wrong so many times that karma decrees you'll both get it right. Now, do hurry, would you? I will not be denied a ninety-proof holiday espresso martini."
"Hold on a minute." The noise began to clarify itself as they drew closer to the Imperial Center. Alexander stopped them. "Do you hear that?"
"I can hardly help it, though I was happy to distract myself with my gentleman escorts' conversation, but what is that commotion?" Josephine shaded her eyes to peek. "Good Lord, is that a wedding?"
Alexander tilted his head to get a better look and a listen. "I think so."
"In this weather?" Shawn nudged at a fallen chunk of icy snow. "Are they out of their minds?"
"Darling, a bride's likely involved. Insanity is a given."
Where Shawn looked dubious, Alexander's intrigue only grew. He made sure Shawn held Josephine safe and secure and took half a dozen strides forward, drinking in the details. Bunting everywhere, a caterer's van well and truly stuck in the snow, and loud, loud, loud screeching emanating from within the Imperial Center.
"Who even holds a wedding on a holiday?"
"Someone who doesn't think ahead?" Shawn suggested.
Alexander laughed. He'd seen this movie. "Bridezilla."
Josephine pointed to a harried-looking string quartet trudging through a half-broken path through the snow, identifiable only by their attempts to lug instrument cases and speakers.
Alexander would have offered to help, but there was something about the grim white lines on the faces of the quartet that told him that'd be rushing in where angels feared to tread.
"Assuredly a Bridezilla," Josephine agreed. "And one without a morsel of common sense. Do you know how long it takes to plan a wedding of this extravagance? As you've kindly pointed out, I've been there and done that, and trust me. It takes well over a year. Even if we were still enjoying a white-out storm, they'd be digging out a path for an aisle the bride could walk up."
The shrieking from within reached a pitch almost in the range that only dogs could hear. Alexander winced.
Josephine laughed. "Never actually been in the presence of a Bridezilla before, have you?"
"If that's one of them, I think I'm glad I'm gay," Shawn said.
Alexander poked him. "Civil unions, brother, and the laws are changing. One day you'll find yourself having a panic attack over lobster canapes going bad."
"Probably. I think the one screaming just now was the groom."
Josephine's shoulders shook with amusement. "Well. When all's said and done, weddings do have one thing going for them."
"Such as?"
"Slutty groomsmen?" Alexander asked, perking up.
"If a guy's lucky," Shawn agreed. "Wait, look who I'm talking to. But are they worth it?"
"I have an uncommonly happy disposition." Alexander shot his sleeves straight and stood to his fullest height, shoulders squared at their broadest. "And sure, mostly."
"Not that we'll be finding out today. Lunch awaits," Josephine said firmly.
"Of course. I --"
Alexander ceased speaking or moving. Breathing might or might not become optional.
He became vaguely aware of Josephine tapping her foot. "Darling, follow-through is a virtue." She cleared her throat. "Alexander?"
Shawn snapped his fingers by Alexander's ear.
He heard both of them. He just wasn't paying attention. Because Alexander had seen him.
He being a man of slim build, slender at the hips and satisfyingly just broad enough at the shoulders to make his masculinity clear; a good and necessary thing for a man as beautiful as he with his red lips, formerly styled and now epically mussed black waves of hair, and blue eyes now raised to the heavens in a silent why me?
Alexander dropped his arm. "Then again, I might stick around. For a few. Take a rain check on the lunch?"
"You're going to crash the wedding?"
"Yes and no," Alexander said. The beautiful man had boxes upon boxes labeled WEDDING yet to unpack. "Wait and see."
Shawn shook his head but let him go. "You're not quite right. You know that, don't you?"
* * *
If a man acted as if he belonged in any given place, people usually didn't ask questions. Alexander took the steps at an easygoing pace and casually strolled to the lovely man's side. "Need a hand?"
"I could use three, to be honest." Pretty eased a double stack of linen napery on a bare table and stretched his arms, pulling each at the wrists to release the cramped muscles. Alexander could massage those for him, but... later. "Do I know you?"
Beauty and brains. "Not in the least," Alexander replied, twinkling at him. "I was passing by and thought I'd see if Good Samaritans were still in style."
Pretty rubbed his arms as he gave Alexander a once-over of bemusement and perhaps a bit of appreciation. "At least you're honest. If you promise not to take off with a box of table favors or hit on one of the bridesmaids, then be my guest. I'm serious about the bridesmaids. I love my sister -- the bride -- but if one more thing sends her off the deep end --"
Alexander laughed. "Don't worry. About the bride or the bridesmaids." He winked. "They aren't what caught my eye."
"Is that a fact?" Pretty's cheeks turning faintly pink, and the appearance of a small smile gave him away. "That makes two of us."
"You're honest, too. And beautiful."
The pink darkened to crimson. "And you're a flatterer." That would have been worrisome if he hadn't grinned at him and pushed one-half of the napery Alexander's way. "If you're sure you want to get involved in the madness... then you can be my guest."
"You can trust me," Alexander said, ripe with confidence. "Watch." He took the top cloth off the stack and gave it a good snap, meant to send a long cloth billowing out.
It would have been more impressive if said cloth hadn't turned out to be a dinner napkin.
Pretty burst into laughter. "I have to keep you now. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I turned you out to wreak havoc on general society." His cheeks remained pink and his blue eyes lambent. He offered his hand. "Noah McMasters. Call me Noah."
Alexander took Noah's hand. A very nice hand it was, too, slim and smooth but firm. "Alexander."
A hint of dimples enriched Noah's smile. "Just Alexander?"
"I have a surname, but I'll make you work for that one." Alexander winked at Noah -- the name fit him as well as a tailored glove, small and lovely -- and draped the napkin over his arm. He clicked his heels together and bowed from the waist. "Right now, I await your command. Tell me what you want from me and I'm yours."

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