New Release: Bite Me for Christmas by Megan Slayer #HolidayRomance #UrbanFantasy #Vampires @MeganSlayer

Rachael isn’t good at magic, and she’s not versed in life, but this witch wants to lay her hands on the sexy vampire who’s come to her in her dreams. She wants just one thing for Christmas wish — her vampire.

Gavin wants the witch in his dreams, but he doesn’t believe he’s worthy of her. Part of him wants to devour her magic and save himself, but what if being saved doesn’t involve dying?

Anything is possible with a little Christmas magic.

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Megan Slayer

How had she managed to summon a vampire?

Christmas lights bathed the room in a rainbow of color. Tinsel glittered around her window, and the tiny Christmas tree turned in small revolutions on her dresser. She was in her room and safe.

She was also a witch who not only believed in the creatures of the night, but also in Christmas. Krampus could haunt her, too. She was a conundrum mixed with confusion.

She sighed. If she wanted the vampire to come to her in person, she’d have to appeal to a higher power. Her sisters wouldn’t help and would probably try to steal him away, if they didn’t kill him first. Krampus hated her because she wasn’t bad enough. Clumsy, yes. Prone to mistakes? Sure. But bad? No. The only shot she had was Santa.

Damn.

Santa didn’t pay the coven much mind. It didn’t matter if she put out milk and cookies for him or that she believed he existed. If she existed and so did Krampus, why couldn’t Santa? Belief wasn’t enough. Santa wasn’t coming down her chimney.

Still, she could ask and believe.

She left her bed and ventured over to the window. Santa might not listen, but she had to try. Christmas was in two days, and she had a Christmas wish. If anyone could come through for her, it was Santa.

She held onto the windowsill. She hated being interrupted before she reached orgasm, but she needed her vampire to be there so she could. He mattered. Him being real mattered.

“Dear Santa, I should write a letter, but this seems faster. I could conjure you, but if I did, I’d probably give you four heads or turn you into a dragon by accident. Anyway, I’m tired of getting three-fourths of the way to climax and not being able to finish. Why? I know this seems like a strange thing to mention, but I’m trying to have sex in my dreams — which isn’t as good as the real thing — and it’s with a vampire. He could kill me, but I’m drawn to him. I don’t know who he is, Santa, but I want him. My Christmas wish is for the vampire in my dreams to come to me in real life. He might destroy me, but he might be what I need, and I want to find out. I accept the risk. Please, fulfill my Christmas wish and put a vampire under my tree.”

She swore she heard other voices and paused. Damn it. Her sisters must still be awake downstairs and heard her moving. If they did, they’d want her to get to work on whatever chore they’d found. They treated her like a fucking servant.

“Are you awake?” Serena, her oldest sister, called. “Rachael? If you’re awake, then there’s a sink full of dishes that need done.”

“It’s too early for her to be up,” Millie, her other sister, said. “She’s not awake. You’re imagining things.”

How could she sleep with the noise from her sisters downstairs? They treated her like a child and servant. The only way she’d have a chance at a life of her own would be to find the vampire and run the hell away.

“Please, Santa,” Rachael said. “I want my vampire for Christmas.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

Paranormal B&B is now in Paperback! #LGBTQ #paranormalromance #darkfantasy @gooseandmindi

A sexy ghost, a demon, a vampire, a Drag Queen, and a Halfling find their true mates in this small town.

Born for You (Paranormal B&B 1): Matson — Being gay in my little town? It’s not been easy. The ghost of a murdered man tugs at my heartstrings. Is he real, or just a figment of my imagination?

Born an Empty Soul (Paranormal B&B 2): Killian — I’m a singer in a famous indie band, but I’ve been alone for a century, living off others’ pain — until I meet my mates. Now I have to do everything I can to convince them they are mine, or I’ll die.

Born a Changeling (Paranormal B&B 3): Ben — I try not to let my daughter have everything she wants, but I can’t say no to keeping the large cat she finds while we’re on vacation. Then the cat turns into a very sexy man who crashes into my life and steals my heart.

Born A Halfling (Paranormal B&B 4): Jessie — I met Michael in Afghanistan, and helped the injured Marine heal in body and soul. When we meet again at Chasers, a gay bar, where he’s a Drag Queen, I still want him — and the man he’s in love with.

Born a Demon (Paranormal B&B 5): Conner — I never thought I’d want a future with another man, but I want one with Rager, a demon from a different dimension. I can forgive his past transgressions, but is happiness really possible when I learn my entire life has been a lie?

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Praise for Born For You (Paranormal B&B 1)

“…this story will appeal not just to readers who enjoy erotic M/M stories but also readers who like small-town romances and more historical novels. I was pleased that the paranormal aspects of Josiah’s after-life were well explained, and the sex between Josiah and Matson is smoking hot and quite explicit.” — Fern, Long and Short Reviews

“Wow, I really loved reading this book by MD Stewart. I love most of her books and this genre at the moment is the best, and I can’t wait for her next book to come out. In this wonderful story, these two men are truly made for each other… This is a must read book for all those lovers of MM books. The men’s love for each other really is beautiful. 5 plus stars.” — 5 Stars from Mozzy, Amazon Review

Praise for Born an Empty Soul (Paranormal B&B 2)

“Whew! M.D. can write a hot scene, that’s for sure, as well as tell an engaging story, and her characters are a delight. Well-realized, three-dimensional heroes who are passionate about everything they do — and each other. I don’t often read M/F/M menage these days but I’m glad I made an exception. Laura can keep up with Barclay and Killian and then some. Recommended.” — 5 Stars from Jennifer B., Goodreads Review

Praise for Born a Changeling (Paranormal B&B 3)

“This was a nice but short fantasy story that I really liked. I liked how the story was written and the characters in the book.” — 4 Stars from LadyDaisy73, Amazon Review

“Oh the steam. So much steam… it maintained the level of passion through the entire story.” — 4 Stars from Meganissima, Amazon Review

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2021 M.D. Stewart
Excerpt from Born For You

Josiah

Life gets boring when you’ve been haunting the same area for over a hundred years. Especially since no one came by for me to scare anymore. The one thing I did look forward to were the visits by the man standing at the edge of the trees.

Matson Gannon Ashby.

I’d watched him grow up. When he was a child, he’d stop by and I could hear his heart pounding in fear. But as he aged, he’d started to talk to me. He’d bring silver coins to toss into the woods each time he came. And each time he did it, he said, “For you, Josiah.”

It pissed me off at first, thinking he was being sarcastic, since I was murdered for greed. I had heard his grandfather telling him how I was killed for my hidden stash of money and my mother’s jewels. Matson seemed sincere though, and with each visit, he tossed the coins.

So I started watching him. It’s not like he could see me; I’d just get closer to him and watch his face. In time, I looked forward to his visits, which grew infrequent after he went to college. Seeing him now made my heart pound.

I was surprised by my reaction to him. When he was a child, I’d felt protective of him, almost like a guardian. As he grew up, my feelings changed from wanting to watch over him, to wanting to touch him. My cold, dead heart felt like a flower blooming inside my chest every time he stopped by for a visit. I didn’t understand why I felt these feelings. I’d never had tender feelings for any human being. Why would I? I went from a fifteen-year-old child to an injured war veteran, to a murdered man and finally to a bitter, avenging ghost.

And yes, I had slain my killers. It hadn’t been difficult to find them. My murder felt like a glowing connection from me to the bastards who’d shot me. I began to haunt them, whisper in their ears, run my finger down their bodies, leaving chill bumps. I drove them crazy, made them question their life’s choices. After all, they’d never even found my hidden stash — I was shot and killed for no reason.

Once I realized my body could cross the thinned Death Veil on Halloween and become corporeal, I’d hunted the men down and killed them, one by one. Once I had my revenge, I never used the thinning Veil between the worlds again. I’d never wanted to be human again.

Until now.

In many ways, Matson’s visits gave me the peace that had eluded me my entire life, as both human and specter. I got attached to him and could follow him home and keep him safe from the Other Things that live between his world and mine.

Humans have no inkling about the paranormal side of things. Which, believe me, is a good thing. Ghosts aren’t the only beings that go “bump in the night.” Angels and demons are just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Most times these magical beings like to stay hidden from humans, but some creatures like to attach to the weaker ones and siphon off their essence. There’s some scary stuff that’s hidden from human beings. Be thankful for that.

But this particular visit of Matson’s felt…different. He drew me, called me to him. I felt his loneliness, and for the first time, I saw him as an adult. When he made the invitation for me to come to him, I couldn’t resist. I bent down and picked up the silver dollar and placed it in my pocket before I slipped into the car beside Matson.

I had visited the big house a few times when Etta Jo got older. When she passed, I helped her cross over, something that never happened with me. Either no one on the Otherside cared enough to guide me, or I didn’t deserve it.

But Etta was a powerful medium. She could communicate with me and frequently did over the years. It established a deeper link between her family and me. That was ironic, because her great-grandfather was one of my killers.

Now, as Matson got out of the car and walked into the house, I could see the sadness cross his features. As he stood in the living room, I reached my hand out and touched his shoulder. To my shock, he placed his hand over mine. Or to be more precise, through it. I don’t know if he knew it was me or if he thought it was Etta Jo, but my touch comforted him. My heart broke for the pain he was suffering.

I had no idea how long we stood there before he whispered he was fine. I got the feeling he needed time alone to process his grief.

I went outside, and lost track of time. When you’re a spirit, time ceases to mean anything. I wondered why I wanted to be so close to Matson. I’ve seen hundreds of people in my specter-life. None drew me as he did, though I was more than one hundred years older. Hell, even if I’d been human, I’d be too old for him. I was fifty-three when I died, and Matson was about thirty.

Wait, what was I thinking? Too old for him?

I’d have to be crazy to feel that way about another man. I’d never been attracted to men before. Had I? I was only fifteen when I joined the Confederate Army. Sixteen when I was shot and seventeen when I came home from war. Then I spent my entire life bitter and alone. I’d never kissed another human being. I never wanted to. But something about Matson called to me. Could I really have sexual desires toward another man? I wasn’t sure, but I knew, if I were human, I’d want to find out with the man in that house.

My body began to tingle, and suddenly I needed to get inside. I needed to be near Matson. And I wasn’t going to let my fears stop me.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I grew up in southern West Virginia, where I spent hours, drawing, watching television and reading. As a result, I combined my love of science fiction (unashamed Trekkie) and romance (thanks to mom’s Harlequin Romance Novels collection) to create my own Universe. I hope my books can transport you to faraway worlds where there’s always a happily ever after!

New Release: Ila (Selkies) by Alice Gaines #urbanfantasy #paranormalromance @AliceGaines

Ila is a selkie — a seal shapeshifter — whose time for mating has arrived. Ryan is incredibly sexy, but he’s also suspicious of everything she says and does.

Ryan Harris has come to Galapagos to solve the mystery of what happened to his father decades earlier. His only clue comes in the form of a naked woman who greets him on his arrival.

Will the lies Ila‘s told keep them apart?

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Alice Gaines

The Mother of the Selkie clan, Inu, didn’t appear for Ila’s fertility ceremony, instead sending her daughter Ona, to perform the rites. Ona’s twin, the clan’s healer, stood next to her sister. Neither woman could fully hide the tension in their faces and postures. Something was off, and if the Mother of their clan ailed, so did the rest of the selkies.

Ila stood naked at the center of the circle of the sisters, all the rest wearing ceremonial robes. She shivered although the breeze wasn’t cold. Since the time she’d learned about mating, she’d imagined receiving a blessing from the Mother. Ona would hold that authority one day, but she didn’t now. Did that bode ill for her mating?

The soft buzz from the others assembled said they worried about the same thing. In the distant past, Selkies had been held captive by selfish mates who wanted to keep them forever. The mates would hide their selkies’ seal skins so they could neither escape nor swim. Without the ocean, a selkie withered and died. Might that happen now to Ila if she didn’t receive a proper blessing?

With the sacred words recited, Ona took Ila’s face between her palms and kissed Ila’s forehead. The sign that sealed her fate for mating. The new man would initiate Ila into the ways of sex and give her a child. If all went well, Ila would leave him, wiping out his every memory of her before she did, and return to the Sisterhood to give birth to her daughter.

“Bless you, my daughter,” Ona said.

The healer handed Ila a robe, which Ila tugged around her against a chill that shouldn’t have existed. These islands, called Galapagos by the humans, straddled the equator and didn’t get cold. Ila stared at Ona as words failed her. How did she tell Ona she wasn’t the Mother and this whole ceremony could be cursed?

None of the sisters had left but milled around, no doubt trying to hear what went on between Ila and Inu’s daughters. The healer turned to stare at all of them. “You may return to your work or homes.”

The group slowly dispersed, leaving Ila with Inu’s twin daughters — the Sisterhood’s future leader and the current healer. Both women held authority in the group, and Ila shouldn’t doubt them, but why hadn’t the Mother come herself?

“Inu isn’t sick, is she?” Ila asked.

“She’s well,” the healer said.

“Then why –”

“She sent me,” Ona said. “Do you doubt my authority?”

Her tone was meant to intimidate so Ila wouldn’t ask any more questions. Well and good for other issues, but Ila would only mate once. If something were to threaten her now, she should know it. “Every selkie dreams of her mating, and the Mother always blesses her first.”

“Inu is tired from all her duties and agreed we’d conduct the ceremony,” Ona said. “It’s time I should learn to lead.”

Inu’s duties hadn’t changed, so why should she be tired? While there was general agreement that Ona would take over for her mother, there had been no formal vote, and she hadn’t been initiated into the role. Her role here was unusual, to say the least.

“Have you dreamed of your mate?” the healer asked.

“I have.” A man named Ryan. He was handsome, certainly, but he gave off an air of uncertainty or skepticism with perhaps a note of anger beneath it all. Another reason to wonder about this mating.

“Your body has made the changes,” the healer said.

It had. With the swelling of her breasts and plumpness of her hips, Ila was ready for mating, and fate had chosen this man for her. So, why was the Mother not here to approve the match?

Ona put an arm around her. “All will be well. Do your duty and give the Sisterhood a daughter.”

She would, of course, despite any misgivings. “I will.”

“Good,” Ona said. “You’ll leave in the morning.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today bestselling author Alice Gaines has published several sensuous and erotic works. She prefers stories that stretch the imagination, highlighting the power of love and sex. Alice has a Ph.D. in psychology from U. C. Berkeley and lives in Oakland, California, with her collection of orchids and her pet corn snake, Casper.

New Release: Will You by Kira Stone #contemporaryromance #agegap

Somewhat estranged from his family over his choice in career — ad design rather than the family’s legacy in corporate finance — Brandon Wiley doesn’t want to push his luck by informing his parents that he’s gay.

But now his older brother is getting married. When he’s asked to be the best man, Brandon agrees. It doesn’t take him long to regret that decision, as the next phone call is from his mother demanding that he bring a date, or she’ll find a girl for him.

Evan Mitchell is ready to leave his wife and be the gay man he knows himself to be. Gail’s tears and Joanne’s threats convinced him to play the Happy Het one last time for his daughter’s wedding before starting his new life as a gay bachelor. It should have been easy, but there’s something about Brandon he can’t ignore and he risks blowing his cover for his first taste of gay passion.

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Kira Stone

“I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone,” Gail said as she tugged him out of the car. Not that he needed her help.

“Give the guy a chance to clean up first,” Jason reminded her.

Gail had Brandon in tow and gave no sign that she’d heard Jason. The door opened before they got halfway down the path. A tall, thin woman with perfectly coiffed hair the same golden shade as Gail’s stood in the entryway, her arms held out as if she were receiving a long lost friend. “Oh, you must be Bradley!”

Brandon, Mom. His name is Brandon.”

Brandon tugged his hand away from Gail and offered it. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mitchell.”

“You must call me Joanne.” She latched onto his other arm and pulled him over the threshold. Brandon wondered where the hell his brother was, and why he’d been abandoned to these two women.

They marched him through the house, Gail releasing him only when it became obvious that the three abreast wouldn’t fit down the hall. As the noise got nearer, Brandon tried to pull away and ask for directions to the bathroom, but the ladies wouldn’t be deterred.

The hallway opened out into what Brandon supposed the chic would call a Great Room. The term fit when it came to size, taking up nearly one quarter of the ground floor. It seemed to be filled with people, and Brandon wondered just how many friends and family members were going to be left in the audience if all of these people were actually in the wedding party.

Brandon scanned the room where the guests were grazing between food and drink stations set out like toadstools in some magical kingdom. The whole thing had a surreal quality about it, and he had never been so happy to see his mother as he was the moment she stepped out of the crowd to greet him.

“Brandon, sweetheart, it’s so good to see you. I was starting to worry that something might have happened to your flight.”

He hugged his mother hard. She still smelled the same. That more than anything let him know that he was home. He didn’t like the way she tried to run his personal life, but he never doubted that she did it out of love. “Hi, Mom,” he said lamely.

She smiled up at him and used her pink-painted nails to brush some of the hair back from his face. “You look well.”

“So do you.” She really did. Classy and happy. Sometimes he wondered if human beings were really meant to spend their entire lives with just one other being, and then he’d recall the way his parents looked together and knew it was more than possible. It happened every day.

Sure enough, his father soon joined them. As he slid one arm around his wife, he extended the other to shake hands with his youngest son. “Glad you could make it, son.”

“Good to see you, Dad.”

Their private family moment was short-lived as Gail appeared at his elbow. “Morgan didn’t come,” she announced.

“That’s too bad,” his mother said. There was a gleam in her eye that added she wasn’t all that sorry.

“She had to work. Out of town. An emergency thing. She sends her regrets.” His parents knew about Morgan’s efforts to find the lost, and their expressions immediately turned more sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Brandon,” his mother said. “I hope it goes well.”

So did he. It tore Morgan up when she failed, and this time he wouldn’t be home to cheer her up. At least, not right away. “Thanks. If I can find Jason, I think I’ll talk him into finding me a room so I can freshen up.”

Gail tightened her grip on his arm. “Oh, no. You’re not running away yet. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

They wiggled and jiggled their way through the bodies until she stopped before a couple conversing quietly in a corner. The woman was seated on a footstool beside an older man who was explaining something that required a lot of hand motions.

Brandon suspected the woman was Jennifer, but he couldn’t spare her more than a glance. He was totally mesmerized by the man conversing with her. His dark hair was closely cropped to help hide the fact that it was thinning just a bit. Laugh lines gave character to his eyes and mouth. He wore a jewel-blue shirt that went perfectly with his naturally tan skin. A little hint of chest hair was visible through the opening around the collar.

As they approached, the two got to their feet. Brandon estimated that the man stood a little over six feet. That would give him about four inches over Brandon’s height. Perfect. As was the rest of him. He had broad shoulders and a trim waist. Too bad he was wearing pleated pants that didn’t give much of a hint about what the man might be packing between his legs. Please let him be single. Please let him be gay.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kira Stone lives in a warm cave tucked away in the remote Scottish Highlands, where a small band of ever-changing heroes serves as company. As they relax in front of a roaring fire, demons dance in leather pants and angels stroke tunes from the harp strings, while the Fae stop in to share tales from other worlds. Bound by pen and imagination, these are the folk who wait to greet you from the pages of Kira’s stories.

The who and what of Kira in this more mundane world is not what turns you on, but the words sure do – so go discover the passion that awaits you between the covers of every Kira Stone book…

Penalty Kicks by D.S. Dehel #sportsromance #contemporaryromance

Penalty Kicks by D.S. Dehel

Published by Changeling Press

Cover Art by Angela Knight

India Roberts can’t wait until her divorce is final, when she’ll be Ms. Jackson again. At forty, she’s waited long enough to pursue her goal of becoming a fashion designer.

What she doesn’t need is a new romance. But when soccer player Matt Bettony rescues her from a bad date and makes her night oh-so-much better, she discovers she’s ready for something else. Thirteen years her junior, he’s the perfect fit for a no-strings love affair that won’t interfere with her dream… until Matt gets other ideas.

Get it at Changeling Press

About the Author

D. S. Dehel is a lover of literature, good food, and the Oxford comma. When she is not immersed in a book, she is mom to her kids and spoiling her rather pampered feline, Mr. Darcy or her equally pampered puppy, Jameson, and her slightly psychotic Australian Shepherd, Piper. Having finally retire, she spends her days dreaming up new plotlines. She adores literary allusions, writing sex scenes, and British men. Actually, make that hot men in general. Her devoted husband is still convinced she writes children’s books. Please don’t enlighten him.

New Release: Dirty Rotten Vampires (paperback) by J. Hali Steele #vampires #darkfantasy @JHaliSteele

In the battle for vampire supremacy, cold hearts and hot blood sweeten the pain.

Hurt Me Good: When Armada, a demi-vamp from Haiti, faces the cold-hearted slayer Ringer, she vows to hate him as much as he hates her. But Ringer’s ability to wield pain brings out a side of Armada she didn’t know existed.

Love Me Madly: Split Kryder needs a new partner. Tang Odette has curves and legs that go on, and on. A maddening inferno of desire ensues, wreaking havoc on his world, and to possess her Split plans to fight dirty… and win.

Hold Me Hard: Vig goes to war against demons threatening to destroy the demi-vamp who has captured his heart, becoming an out-of-control master hell-bent on annihilating anything that dares keep her from him.

Dare Me Once: Vald tests his power to make a creature beg on Drecara, whose curvaceous body he desires, and Mictain, her protector, just to feel the burn. Vald hopes the extraordinary demons are up for the challenge.

Make Me Right: Jordan isn’t afraid of the huge black hound — in fact, she takes him home. Little does she know her life is entwined with the beast’s destiny and his deadly need will change her forever.

Get it at Amazon

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 J. Hali Steele
Excerpt from 
Hurt Me Good

Peace and quiet tended to avoid Barringer Ganteau, and today was no different as glass shattered in the hotel lobby, sending guests scurrying for cover. The man who had flown through the window banged his head on the marble floor and lay unconscious, while the revolver he held slid from his hand, clanging against the reception desk.

Ringer strode to the piece and picked it up. “Son of a bitch.” Spinning around, he watched two police officers jostle with fleeing guests to enter the door, and wondered why they didn’t just step through the broken window a few feet back along the front of the hotel. “Jackasses.”

One stood over the criminal and the other came toward him, stopping short of stepping on his Italian leather shoes. “Ringer, couldn’t you just once restrain someone? Why do you have to hurl them through something?” He glanced around the lobby. “It’s cold as hell in here.”

“Hell, my friend, is not cold.”

“If anyone knows that, it’d be you.”

“Go to hell.” Damn perceptive of a human to feel the chill in the air. “Why didn’t you restrain him? You had him in the goddamn car.”

The cop scratched his head and coughed. “Well, he… shit, man, I wasn’t expecting him to jump out before I cuffed him.”

“Did you expect him to grab your gun?” Barringer handed the pistol over.

“Thanks. Uhh, the department is going to hear about this — could you work with me on a story?”

“Jakes, I got it. In the future, cuff them first. Hell, I’d have cuffed him, then knocked the bastard out before I tossed him in the car.”

“We can’t do that shit, man.”

Ringer grunted. “And that’s why I’m not a cop.”

Barringer had been coerced into moving west from New Orleans by a friend, and he’d found the perfect spot to call home and to play at being a private investigator; an excellent cover for his kind. Oro Grande, California, smaller than the neighboring city of Victorville, would be missed if you blinked driving through. Both cities were tiny in comparison to Los Angeles, but crime was on the rise in the high desert with more and more people moving into the area. Today, he hunted in Apple Valley, a town known by most as the home of Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, famous for their cowboy movies.

Ringer had been in residence for a few months, and he loved the desert and surrounding mountains. As promised, it provided the ability to hide in plain sight, something he and the others often did to avoid trouble. Local law enforcement accepted the fact he was here to stay and overlooked his volatile episodes as long as he didn’t kill anyone.

But the day was young.

Anyway, the quarry he hunted wasn’t human — no one would miss the demonic piece of shit except Lucifer.

The demon mix had turned malevolent and jeopardized creatures in the area by mutilating humans. Something not permitted without dire repercussions. When he caught the horned bastard, he’d silently rip his throat out. No human would be the wiser, and the others would thank him for a job well done.

Watching the officers drag the now-cuffed thief from the hotel, he stopped Jakes. “Tell your captain I’ll pay for the damages.” Money was no object. Hundreds of years making it, and stealing some, would have listed him among billionaires. Though he managed to stay off the Forbes radar, he had made a couple of the best-dressed lists.

Glancing past the razor-sharp creases in his black tailor-made slacks, he again eyed the Italian leather encasing his feet. If Jakes had stepped on a toe, he’d have sent him skidding on his ass across the floor. The thought made him smile.

Sniffing the air, he caught an odd scent. He knew most creatures in his neck of the woods. This one was new. He stood stock-still in the center of the lobby and waited. Nothing could hide from him for long; in fact, this one didn’t seem to be hiding. He knew his eyes, cloaked behind sunglasses, were now red instead of violet as he searched the space. Seconds ticked by as he shut out the noise and separated the smell from all the others.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered. Christ, she was magnificent.

Tall, but not skinny, she had curves in all the right places, and legs that seemed to go on forever beneath a pair of white mid-thigh shorts. The tan tee shirt accentuated her bronze skin, and her tousled brown hair stopped above her neck. A neck Ringer watched the pulse throb in from where he stood. His mouth watered and he struggled to keep his fangs from elongating. He’d never exhibited a great like for her kind yet his dick soared to attention and he used every ounce of power to bring the room to a standstill. It had been at least a hundred years since he had reacted to any woman in this manner.

It shocked the shit out of him when she moved. Her head turned and she stared straight at him with red, glowing eyes. Then she smiled and disappeared.

A demi-vamp with the ability to vanish!

“I will find you.” She left a trail no one else in the hotel but he could follow if he chose…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A multi-published author, J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of… Well, since she can’t, she would much rather roam where her fictional big cats live — in the high desert of California. Discovering a new love of contemporary male/male erotica has flipped a switch she can’t turn off, so she hopes eventually it drifts back into her otherworldly realm.

When J. Hali’s not writing, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a good book, a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.

Growl and roar — it’s okay to let the beast out.

Naughty and Sweet by Megan Slayer #BDSM #contemporaryromance @MeganSlayer

Kelly Fenn came to the Honey Dripper seeking what she thinks is an easy way to make cash to pay off a loan. Martin Malachi is the one man she never expected to find, let alone fall in love with.

Martin’s not looking for a girlfriend, but Kelly needs a job. When he suggests an offer Kelly can’t refuse, she’s got a choice to make. Will she risk her heart for a chance at forever with a man fifteen years her senior, or walk away?

Available at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Megan Slayer

Martin sat at the desk counting the take from the night before. Lots of customers meant the club was busy and would hit the quota, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed counting the receipts. He should check the liquor levels in case they needed to order more. He needed to go through the pipeline and replenish the beer kegs, as well.

He hoped they’d have a decent night tonight, too. He liked seeing the club full. A busy club equaled brisk business and happy dancers.

A young woman walked into the foyer. He swept his gaze over her — fresh-faced, sweet, co-ed type — not the kind of girl who worked at the Honey Dripper. The exotic dancers tended to be on the jaded side.

Martin frowned. “Excuse me? Can I help you?” He shut the lid of his laptop.

“Hi.” The girl’s eyes widened. “I’d like to apply for a job.”

“A job? Here?” Her blue eyes captivated him, and were those freckles? Blood rushed to his dick. He had a thing for girl-next-door types. He wasn’t a fan of younger women, but something about this one spoke to him.

“Yes.” She rested her hands on the desk. “Please?”

She’d pulled her dark blonde hair into a ponytail and her T-shirt stretched across her ample bosom. Martin stifled a groan as she licked her lips. If the innocence she projected was an act, then she was damn good at it.

“Hello?” She waved her hand. “Sir?”

God, he’d love to hear her call his name or Sir in the bedroom. When she waved again, he blinked. “Huh?” Shit. He hadn’t been listening to her.

“I’d like to apply for a job.” She tapped the desk. “Here.”

“At the desk?” He needed to screw his head on straight. “Doing what?”

“Um…” She blushed, and her confidence seemed to vanish. “Dancing?”

“You know it’s nude dancing, right?” She didn’t strike him as the type to strip without a stiff drink and a double dare.

“I do.” Her blush deepened. “Sure. Yeah. I know.”

“You’re twenty-one, right?” He wasn’t above moving and selling illegal booze, but the Malachi family refused to hire anyone under the age of twenty-one.

“I am.” She withdrew her wallet from her bag. “Want to see?” She opened the case and produced her driver’s license. “There you go.”

He read the information, then shined the card under the special light. The holograms and embedded strip shimmered. If this was a fake, then it was the best fake he’d ever seen. The holograms were hard to counterfeit.

“What are you doing?” She frowned, knotting her pretty features together.

“Making sure it’s legit.” He handed the card back to her. “Kelly.” The name suited her.

“Yes.” She smiled. “Kelly Fenn.”

“You’re a college student?”

“Yes.” She put her license back in her wallet. “Do you want to see my student ID?”

“No.” He should talk to her in one of the offices, instead of the foyer. “Let me call Amanda over. She can cover the desk.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “Whatever you’ve got to do.”

He tapped his phone, summoning the woman who normally manned the desk. He sent the text, then turned his attention to Kelly. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked. “I’m twenty-one, in my third year at Green College. I’m studying film history, and I’d like to get a position working with a museum or in the film industry cataloguing movies. Ideally, I want to work here in Cambridge in the little museum, creating digital and film content for the museum as well as cataloguing the films and clips in the archives.”

“Ah.” He gestured to Amanda, who’d just arrived. “I need you at the desk while I speak to this applicant.”

Amanda crooked her drawn-on eyebrow. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”

“What?” Kelly sighed. “If you can’t take me seriously, then I give up.”

“You’ll never work here with that attitude.” Amanda took her place behind the desk. “Good luck.”

Martin groaned. He liked Amanda, but not in a romantic way. Her sense of humor didn’t gel with his, and she tended to look at the world in a pessimistic manner. “Thank you.” He picked up the laptop and gestured to Kelly. “Ready?”

“Sure.” Kelly inched around the desk.

Amanda grabbed Martin’s arm.

“Hang on,” Martin said. He directed Kelly to the conference room. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He left her alone and returned to the desk. “Yes?”

Amanda rested her hands on her hips. The dress clung to her curves and showed too much cleavage, but she did her job and brought in customers. “What’s the deal?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “What’s your beef?”

“She’s young.”

“She is.” He knew and couldn’t do much about it, but most of the girls who danced at the club were under twenty-five.

“She’s not dancer material.”

“Nope.” He could’ve told her that when Kelly first walked into the building.

“Yet you’re wasting your time on her.” She crooked her eyebrow again. “What’s gotten into you?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

New Release: Tobias by Marteeka Karland #mcromance #agegap @marteekakarland

I hate bullies. Gymnastics moms are the worst, too. So when a girl who looks no older than the kids with the overbearing mothers steps in to take over, I’m more than a little skeptical. Her name is, of all things, Kitty, and I’ve been watching her from a distance. I just didn’t realize she was a highly trained athlete in the body of a young, beguiling, innocent woman. Everything about her calls to my protective instincts. Especially when I find her putting herself in the hands of the very tormentor who broke my sister.

Available at Changeling Press

Praise for Tobias (Salvation’s Bane MC 7)

“What a sweet and sexy MC romance! I always wait until a weekend when I can afford to lose sleep and get lost in MK’s most recent MC romance. This one is no different…I couldn’t put it down!! Happy sigh.”

— 5 Stars from dee_annad, BookBub Review

“…another fun installment of the series and once again, I was thoroughly entertained. This novelette is big on romance and light on angst or dark drama. Rest assured, Ms. Karland knows her craft. Strong, noble, not afraid to get down and dirty, and even a bit bloody, and always have each other’s backs when the going gets tough.”

— Xeranthemum, Long and Short Reviews

“Tobias and Kitty — loved them together! She’s strong yet has just the right amount of vulnerability that makes you love her. He’s an Alpha Male and just a natural protector… Their story kept me glued to my reader!”

— 5 Stars from Tanya Skaggs, BookBub Review

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.

Caligo by Torri Heat #ParanormalRomance @TorriHeat @changelingpress

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Ava’s stepped out of her own reality and into another world — a world where werewolves exist. She’s slowly coming to terms with Jasper and their mate bond, but now she has bigger problems. Whatever’s hunting the werewolves in her small town is still on the loose. Worse yet, her parents seem to have a vendetta against Jasper.

With Jasper’s help, Ava’s embracing her Venator heritage. Good thing she has a hot werewolf to teach her everything she needs to know about fighting. But will she be strong enough for what comes next?

Available Now at Changeling Press

Preorder for February 26th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Torri Heat

This was fine. I was fine. I could handle werewolves. I could handle Venators. I could handle anything thrown at me. Right? Maybe not. “I’m sorry. What did you say?” I immediately recalled my mom’s snarky tone as she questioned me about mates.

Jasper sucked in a breath. “Well, werewolf mates are basically soulmates. But it’s a bit different because…”

I held my hand up, cutting him off before he could go any further. “Jasper, I’m a bit more concerned with the fact that you think we’re mates. And the fact you are only telling me now.” I sat up, covering myself with his blanket and stared at him. Mates? Us? He must be kidding.

Jasper laughed, but his voice sounded like it was shaking and I could tell he was nervous. “Hey, if you can think of a better way to tell someone you’ve just met they’re your soulmate, I’m all ears.”

His logic seemed understandable, but his reasoning didn’t stop my blood from rushing into my ears, and my pulse from racing. I knew my life had changed from the minute Jasper told me werewolves were real, but I hadn’t expected this. I clutched the blanket in one hand, and waved my other arm in agitation. “It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense!”

Jasper put a soothing hand on my arm, but I shook him off. He looked hurt at my rejection, but I was too riled up to stop. “Hey, baby, relax. What doesn’t make sense?”

I ran my fingers through the rat’s nest of my hair in frustration. “All of it! Any of it!” I gestured towards his naked body, every inked muscle on full display, and then towards my covered self. “Look at you, and look at me! We don’t make sense. We’re nothing more than a fling, and I’m not even sure how that happened, to be completely honest.”

His gaze turned hard, and he roughly grabbed me by my shoulders. “Don’t. Don’t start that. Mates give us exactly what we need in a partner. What you lack, they give, and vice versa. I know you didn’t grow up with this shit, but I’m telling you whatever brought us together was done perfectly.” He tipped my face, forcing me to look up at him. “Besides, I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in any room, mates be damned.”

I couldn’t deny the inescapable pull he had on me. The way I felt desperate to be near him. “Is this why I felt like I knew you, even before we met?” Everything was starting to make sense in a way I wasn’t sure I wanted it to.

Jasper sighed. “Most likely. I tried to downplay the feeling before you could think too much about what all this meant. I didn’t think you would ever go for me at the time.” My breathing hitched, and I felt my pulse slow. Despite all my concerns and my overwhelming need for independence I couldn’t write off what Jasper was saying. He gently stroked my cheek, and I leaned into his touch.

He nodded, his gaze softening. “You feel it too, don’t you? The bond. It has a relaxing effect when we’re together, touching.”

I couldn’t disagree with him. But that didn’t mean I wanted to agree either. “I have questions.”

“I imagine you do.” Jasper’s face relaxed. God, he was so handsome it was distracting. His chiselled cheekbones and full lips were mere millimetres from me.

“I need complete honesty, if this is going to work. When did you first think I was your mate?”

“Well, that’s a tough question.” He grimaced, but I glared at him until he continued. “I saw a photo of you a few years ago, one of the times I met with your parents. I had a feeling, but I managed to convince myself that you can’t find your mate through a photograph. I forgot about it until that day I walked into the coffee shop and there you were. All the time we have spent together since then has reinforced my feelings. I wanted to be sure, and then I couldn’t figure out a way to tell you.”

I blinked, my mind reeling. “That’s why my mom told me to ask you about mates.”

Jasper looked surprised. “She did?”

I closed my eyes, nodding. “Uh huh. Putting two and two together now, I can only imagine she was hoping I would freak out and leave once I knew the truth.” My mom being so cruel was a tough reality to face. So many of these lies that Jasper was having to come clean about stemmed from my parents, not him. I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. “Why are my parents so against us being together?”

He jumped out of bed, back turned to me as he started throwing his clothes back on. “People who know about wolves can be prejudiced towards us. Some think that a human and werewolf match goes against nature.” His voice was tight, and I could tell this wasn’t his favourite topic.

“Are my parents like that?” I asked.

Jasper stiffened, midway through pulling his shirt on. “Do you actually want to know the answer to that?”

Did I? Could his response be any worse than them lying to me my whole life, or them not believing in me? “Yes. I do.”

“Your parents are the ones who convinced me to not seek you out the moment I saw your photo. They asked me to stay away. For everything your parents have done for us, the idea of a human and werewolf match is still unacceptable.” He spoke without emotion, and I realized he was worried I might share my parents’ prejudices.

I slipped off the bed, wrapping my arms around him. “I don’t think like them, Jasper. You being a werewolf is only a part of who you are. It’s not the whole of it.”

Jasper turned in my arms, gaze offering a small glimmer of hope. “Do you mean that?”

“Absolutely. Even if my parents were in my good books right now, I don’t think I could ever think anything about us was unnatural. This whole mate thing does explain a lot of weird shit. But…”

His eyebrows shot so high they nearly reached the dark waves of his hairline. “But?”

“I want to do this my way.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Torri Heat has always loved control. Her mind was blown when she discovered she could control entire worlds through story writing. Throw some steamy romance in there, and it was pretty close to perfection. Torri loves dark heroes who ride off into the sunset on their motorcycles, fierce heroines who can fend for themselves, and a sprinkle of the paranormal to keep things interesting. When she’s not creating alternate realities you can find her managing her three ring circus of kids and animals.  

New Release: Taken by the Bratva by Harley Wylde and Paige Warren #MafiaRomance

Cover Art by Jessica Coulter Smith

She’s been used. Broken.

Scarred inside and out, she tries to hide. But I see her.

There’s a fire burning deep inside. One they haven’t extinguished.

Imogen Byrnes is going to be mine.

I’ll show her there can be pleasure with pain. Freedom in submission.

I’m a monster. Her monster.

I’ll bend her to my will.

Break her in new ways.

Then I’ll put her back together.

My beautiful, broken girl will be in my bed, and she’ll wear my ring.

Once she’s mine, I’m never letting her go.

Taken by the Bratva a stand-alone short novella with a limited plot, lots of steamy sex, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after. No cheating and no cliffhanger. Please be warned there is forced consent and some scenes may trigger sensitive readers.

Get it Here

EXCERPT

©2021, Harley Wylde & Paige Warren

Ivan

The day Pavel had taken his wife in payment for a debt, things had changed. He still ruled with an iron fist, but he’d grown soft when it came to women. Which was why he’d put me in charge of the brothels. He no longer had the stomach for using women who hadn’t volunteered. Most of our stable contained young women who’d been taken to cancel a debt, much like his wife Rianne. Except she’d never graced the halls of our brothels. No, Pavel had wanted her for himself.

I checked over the books one last time before getting up from the desk in the small office. I made my way to the front, admiring the women lounging in various rooms. We catered to all types in our establishments, which meant our women varied in age, size, and race as well. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. They were all whores. Even if they hadn’t been in the beginning, it’s what we’d made them.

Normally, I’d partake of a little entertainment after working so hard, but I had places to be. A few debts hadn’t been paid and the men were dragging their feet, which meant I needed to see what leverage we could find. Most responded to pain, or rather they did anything they could to avoid it. Some didn’t care one way or the other.

Sean Byrnes was my first stop. I wasn’t sure which category he fell into, but I’d learn soon enough. I’d had men watching him and now knew his every move. The man was nothing if not predictable.

By the time I reached my stop, I was wishing I’d delayed long enough to at least have one of the whores suck me off. Too late now, but I could always go back later. For the moment, I leaned against a brick building and watched the restaurant across the street. Byrnes sat at a table with a young woman and two men who I knew were part of the Mancini Family. It seemed Byrnes owed more than the Bratva.

The way he motioned at the woman, and the vacant expression on her face, I knew exactly what he’d done. He’d brought her as a bribe, or a way to cancel his debt to them. I was curious if they’d accept. I couldn’t let them hurt Byrnes before I got my hands on him. The man was neck deep with the Bratva, and there was no way Pavel would let him walk without paying in cash or blood.

When they’d concluded their business, Byrnes stood and shook the men’s hands. I noticed the woman remained as he walked off, but two of his men stayed behind. Thne Mancini’s men stood and gripped the woman’s arms, leading her from the restaurant. They shoved her into a limo and drove away, with Byrnes’ two men following in a black car.

It seemed she was his get out of debt card, which meant chances were good he’d offer Pavel the same deal. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the woman, but what I’d seen intrigued me. There’s been no passion, no fire or anger. Just… nothing. What would it take to make her break? To make her fight back?

I smiled, hoping I’d get the chance to find out. One way or another, she was going to be mine.