Torch (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #bikers #MCromance #newadult #olderhero #preorder


I branded her. I kissed her. Then I let her go. Now she’s back, and she’s mine.


HW_Torch_large (1)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Romance Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Silver Fox


Isabella: I was seventeen when my daddy gave me to Torch, who inked me, kissed me, then watched me walk away. I was supposed to return after I graduated, but instead I ran. Now I’m back, ready to face whatever fate awaits me. He’s probably pissed, and rightly so. It was only supposed to be a short separation, but three years have passed. I expected yelling, maybe some public humiliation. It never occurred to me he’d kiss me so deeply, so passionately that I’d be begging for more. He’ll be my first, my last, my only… because I’m his, and he’s never going to let me forget it.

Torch: For years, I’ve kept my distance, watching over the girl I claimed as my own. She wears my brand, and I know it’s only a matter of time before she comes home. I remembered a stunning young woman, but it’s a siren who walks back through my door, all luscious and curvy. There may be about thirty years between us, but fuck if I care what people think. I want her. She’s mine, and I’m going to remind her of that. I’ll take her any way I can, as often as I can, and when I’m done, she’ll never again think of walking out the door. Because what she doesn’t know is that she’s done the impossible… she’s claimed the heart of a man who didn’t think he had one. Now that she’s worked her way deep inside, I’ll rain down hell on anyone who tries to keep us apart. No one’s going to come between us, especially not the man who gave his daughter to me — not even if he has the entire cartel army on his ass.


★ Pre-Order for March 23rd ★






The car that had delivered me to my destination took off down the road like the hounds of hell were after it. Not that I could blame the poor driver. I looked through the gates at the Dixie Reapers MC compound. Not much had changed since I was last here. A Prospect approached the gates, his face lighting up when he saw me. I got that reaction a lot. I’d always been pretty, but the last few years I’d gained some womanly curves and my face had matured. He swaggered closer, his hand tucked into his belt.

“You looking for a good time?” he asked. “Because I could fuck you all night long, sweet thing.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Yeah, I’d never heard that one before.

“Open the gates,” I demanded, trying to sound tougher than I was.

He licked his lips, apparently thinking he was getting his fondest wish. The gate slid open, and I strolled through on my heeled boots that hugged my calves and stopped just below my knees. The gate closed behind me, and the Prospect placed his hand on my waist. I quickly removed it.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and give my cock some attention?” he said, starting to unfasten his belt.

“Or you could keep your pants zipped and your dick attached,” I said.

“Did you just threaten to remove my dick?”

“Oh, I won’t be the one removing it. Torch will.”

He sneered at me. “And why would Torch give a shit about some whore who showed up uninvited?”

I held up my forearm, the brand that said Property of Torch clearly on display. I’d been marked when I was seventeen. My dad hadn’t wanted to take a chance Torch would back out of the deal later. Because I’d been underage and a virgin, Dad had refused to let Torch claim me in any other way, but I was his just the same. And I’d damn sure never told my dad about the kiss I’d shared with Torch. That kiss had remained with me all these years. I still could taste him when I closed my eyes.

The Prospect’s face paled, and he stammered an apology before getting out of my way. I walked across the concrete lot and up the clubhouse steps. Music blared from inside, and I braced myself for what I might find on the other side of the door. I’d heard my daddy threaten Torch if he so much as unzipped his pants with another woman. Casper VanHorne hadn’t been fucking around. As far as he was concerned, Torch was married to me, and my daddy expected him to be faithful, even if I had been too young at the time. My heart ached at the thought that he might not have kept his promise. The moment I’d laid eyes on Torch, I’d fallen under his spell, and it had scared the hell out of me. It had scared me so much, I’d done the chicken shit thing and run.

I’d been gone a lot longer than I’d expected. My graduation had taken place within six months of Torch branding me as his. The plan had been for me to visit family abroad for six months, then return to Torch. I’d have been eighteen by then, nearly nineteen, and it would have been legal for us to be together, but I’d been too damn scared to come back. I’d only met him the one time, but the way he’d made me feel still shook me to my core. So, I’d hidden. Not just from Torch, but from my dad too. I’d used what few contacts I had and disappeared, making sure I left no trace, until I was ready to face my fate. Not an easy feat with two powerful men looking for you. I’d gotten fake documents with a new name and changed locations every few months. Staying under the radar hadn’t been easy, but I’d managed.

I was twenty now, almost twenty-one, and I knew I couldn’t keep running. Wasn’t even certain I wanted to. I was a grown woman now, and it was time to claim my man. Or more likely, let him claim me. Assuming he wasn’t pissed beyond belief. My hand pressed against the door. My future, whether good or bad, lay on the other side. I wouldn’t blame Torch for being furious with me for being gone so long, for just vanishing. I knew my father was enraged, but I’d deal with Daddy later. But Torch… I belonged to him. I didn’t know what the punishment would be for my actions, and I only hoped I was strong enough to take it. I’d probably made him look like a fool by taking off like that. It hadn’t been my intention, but I didn’t know if he’d care why I’d left the way I did.

I blew out a breath and opened the door, stepping inside the dimly lit interior. Smoke filled the air and nearly made me choke. Through the haze I could see the bikers weren’t too picky about where they had sex. Naked women strolled through the room, completely on display for anyone to look at or touch. I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake in coming here. Daddy had made a deal, and it was up to me to keep it, but I wasn’t too happy with what I saw.

Torch was in the back corner with some of his brothers, a naked whore on his lap. She didn’t seem to be doing much but sitting there, but it still made me ill. He was supposed to be mine. Part of me wanted to march over there, drag her ass off him, and kick her out the door. But I’d never been the confrontational sort. Even after all this time, I was still on the quiet side most days. I made my way over to the bar and climbed onto one of the stools. If I was going to get through this night, I knew I’d need a stiff drink. I cursed myself as a coward, thinking I didn’t do justice to the VanHorne name. According to my daddy, I took after my mom, and since she hadn’t been able to handle Dad’s lifestyle and had died by her own hand when I was just a baby, I didn’t think that was a compliment.

“Rum and coke,” I told the Prospect behind the bar. “Heavy on the rum.”

He winked and set about making my drink, then slid it in front of me. I downed it in a few swallows and motioned for another. A hand slid around my body and cupped my breast, squeezing it to the point of pain. I inhaled sharply and immediately wished I hadn’t. Whoever was standing behind me smelled ripe, even over the smoke in the air.

“Whores aren’t allowed to wear clothes in here,” a voice slurred in my ear. “Strip and show me a good time.”

“Good thing I’m not a whore,” I said, removing his hand.

“Fucking bitch,” he spat. “You aren’t allowed to say no. Club rules.”

He jerked me off the stool and backhanded me across the face. My knees nearly gave out, but he still gripped my arm tight. I could feel him bruising my skin even as pain radiated across my cheek.

I saw stars for a moment, and when he reached his hand back again, I reached up and grabbed it before it could connect with my face. His gaze focused on my arm and his glassy eyes went wide. He looked from my tattoo over to where I’d last seen Torch, and the blood drained from his face. I heard the sound of several booted feet heading toward us and braced for whatever was about to happen.

“Boy,” a voice growled behind me. “We don’t hit women around here.”

That voice. I closed my eyes a moment, a shiver raking down my spine. All these years and I hadn’t forgotten his voice. Even now, that voice made me want to submit, to give him anything he asked for.


Did you miss book 1 – Venom? Check it out here!



Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

Harley Wylde is the “wilder” side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. Visit Harley’s website at Want to be notified of new releases or special discounts? Sign up for the Harley/Jessica newsletter!


Sexy Saturday: Grizzly Affair by Dulce Dennison #GayRomance #shifters #threesome #interracial @AuthorDulce @changelingpress




What happens when one stubborn bear doesn’t want to take a mate? He gets two!



Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres: Paranormal, Suspense
Themes: Interracial, Multiple Partners, Gay,
Men in Uniform, Shifters, Werewolves
Length: Novella

With a rogue shifter on the loose leaving a trail of bodies, it isn’t the best time for bear shifter, Roarke Hilliard to have his heat cycle. Especially since he’s the lead Special Agent on the case. But nature must take its course. When his partner, agent Spencer Malloy, places himself in Roarke’s path during his greatest time of need, the bear is worried he might break the human. But Spencer wants Roarke badly… bad enough to call in a paranormal escort.

Grigore Gabor may be a male escort, but he’s never slept with any of his clients… until now. The moment the wolf shifter gets a whiff of the bear who hired him, and his human companion, he knows he’s found his mates. But getting the surly ursa to agree is another matter.

With a killer on the loose, now isn’t the time for finding true love. With Roarke handicapped by his heat cycle, there’s only so much the agents can do against the rogue shifter. They can only hope to bring the man to justice before another body is found.



Spencer tried to keep an eye on his partner, looking for a sign that Roarke’s mating heat was triggered. The last thing the Bureau of Paranormal Affairs needed was one of their best agents getting horny at an inopportune time. The grizzly had insisted on revisiting the crime scene, in hopes he picked up something new, but it had been a bust. Now they were digging into burgers at Big Bart’s while the man across from him growled and grumbled.

“What the fuck good is it to have a nose that can pick up the faintest trace of something if I can’t solve the damn case?” Roarke said between bites.

“You’re a good agent, Roarke, and you know it. If they were all easy to solve, then anyone could do our job. Hell, at least you have an advantage over me. I’m just human.”

“If your uncle wasn’t Chief of Police, they never would have allowed you on the team.”

“You know you’re glad I’m here.”

Roarke snorted. “I got saddled with your ass because I was the best. The other agents thought I’d stop making them look bad if I were handicapped.”

Spencer smiled and finished his meal. The bear could bluster all he wanted, but Spencer knew that Roarke liked him. A lot. The man sported wood too often for it to be a coincidence. Now if he could just get the bear to act on it. He’d never met someone so stubborn before. Roarke hadn’t made it a secret he preferred men, so Spencer didn’t think that was the holdup. It wasn’t like there weren’t other gay couples working in law enforcement. It was true he wanted a lasting relationship, and he thought the bear shifter was the man for the job, but if Roarke wanted no strings attached sex, then Spencer was willing to give it to him. Or rather he was hoping the bear would give it to him.

Roarke growled as he took another bite, his eyes turning amber for a moment. The beast was close to the surface, which meant his heat was closer than Roarke had admitted. Spencer had a feeling his partner was going to need sex as soon as tonight, possibly all night and into the next day. What a crap time for this to happen. They had a case to solve, but he knew the bear couldn’t help it. And maybe it would end up being a good thing.

The bear loosened his collar and undid the first two buttons on his shirt, showing a hint of fur on his chest — the grizzly and human kind. Fuck. If Roarke shifted in here, all hell would break loose. The world might know about shifters, but there were some things humans just didn’t accept. Dining with a bear was one of them, unless that bear remained in human form. Roarke finished his food and looked around the room. His jaw tensed and Spencer wondered just how hard it was to hold himself in check.

“Come on,” Spencer said, tossing enough money onto the table to cover their bill and a tip. “I think it’s time we got back to the hotel.”

Roarke growled at him and flashed a hint of fang.

“Is that supposed to scare me? Because all you’re doing is turning me on.”

The bear huffed and stood. “You don’t have the sense God gave a goose.”

“Why? Because I’m not scared of you? Please. You might fuck me into oblivion right now, but you’d never hurt me.”

Roarke didn’t answer and stormed out of the restaurant. Spencer shook his head and followed. Whether the shifter liked it or not, they were going to fuck tonight. The bear needed the release and Spencer had been dying to get Roarke out of his clothes since the first moment he saw him. Seemed like a win-win situation. At least, until the heat ended and then Roarke would be back to his usual self and would likely be pissed. It was a chance Spencer was willing to take.

He’d barely closed the car door before Roarke peeled out of the parking lot. The grizzly shifter was tense, soft growls erupting from him every few minutes. The hands gripping the steering wheel were tipped with claws and his fangs hung over his lower lip. By the time they reached the hotel, Spencer was worried his partner was more bear than man. He followed Roarke up to his room and pushed his way inside before the grizzly could slam the door.

“What are you doing?” Roarke asked with a growl to his voice.

Spencer began unfastening the buttons on his shirt. “Helping you.”

He kicked off his shoes then flung his shirt over the back of a chair. The bear watched with avid interest as Spencer bared his body one inch at a time. When he stood completely naked, Roarke sniffed the air and advanced on him. The grizzly tore his shirt from his body, the material shredded by his claws. Roarke circled him as he tore his remaining clothes off.

The shifter’s cock was a sight to behold, tall, straight, and dripping with pre-cum. It was also the widest damn cock Spencer had ever seen and he worried for a moment it might not fit. The bear leaned in closer and licked the side of his neck, making Spencer’s nipples pucker. His cock had been hard as a damn post since he’d decided to keep his partner company tonight.

“Want you,” Roarke said. “Need you.”

“You can have me,” Spencer said.

“Shower. You smell wrong.”

Wrong? Spencer gave himself a sniff, but he didn’t notice anything wrong. Roarke gave him a nudge toward the bathroom and Spencer went willingly. He turned on the water and when steam billowed around the curtain, he stepped over the side of the tub. Roarke followed behind him, pulling the curtain closed.

The shifter seemed to have more control of himself and the claws had receded, along with the extra fur. Roarke poured shower gel into his hand and began washing Spencer, his rough hands making Spencer even harder than before. When Roarke grasped his cock and gave it a stroke, Spencer thought his knees might buckle. His partner pressed his chest against Spencer’s back, one hand splayed across his abdomen, and the other giving long, firm strokes.

“Christ, Roarke!”

The shifter’s teeth grazed his neck making Spencer shudder as a chill raced down his spine. His cock jerked in Roarke’s grasp and he fought back a moan. Roarke reached around Spencer and grabbed some lube. Just the thought of Roarke using that in here to jackoff had Spencer ready to blow.

His partner dribbled some lube down the crack of his ass and then a thick finger began massaging his anus. Spencer placed his hands on the tiled wall and thrust his ass back at Roarke. It seemed the shifter was short on words or patience right now, and Spencer was fine with that. Maybe once they’d fucked, Roarke’s beast would settle some and they could play at their leisure the rest of the night.

Roarke worked a second finger into his tight hole while he nipped and kissed along Spencer’s neck and shoulder. It wasn’t long before he was taking three fingers, then four. Spencer felt the burn in his ass, but it was the best kind. He felt Roarke’s cock slide between his ass cheeks and his heart nearly beat out of his chest. With anyone else he’d demand a condom, but he knew shifters didn’t carry diseases and Spencer was clean too.

Roarke gripped his hips tight as he slowly sank into Spencer’s ass one inch at a time, his hips flexing as he worked his monster cock into him. Spencer groaned and dropped his head, his body straining to remain still for fear the bear inside Roarke might think he was trying to escape. Nothing could have been further from the truth. If anything, Spencer wanted to be even closer to him.

“So fucking tight,” Roarke said, his voice strained.

“I can take it. Give it all to me.”

Roarke growled a little and then thrust forward, sliding his cock all the way inside Spencer. It was enough to make him cry out, every nerve ending his body singing. The hands gripping him grew rougher and the bite of claws marked his hips as Roarke began fucking him with long, deep strokes. Every plunge of his cock drove Spencer onto his toes, but fuck if he didn’t love every minute of it.

The bear grunted and growled as he pounded Spencer’s ass. The sounds were sexy and made Spencer want to come in the worst way. He reached down and gripped his cock, stroking it fast and hard. As Roarke thrust into him one final time, roaring out his release, Spencer came all over his hand and the wall. No one had ever fucked him so thoroughly, leaving him weak-kneed and already aching for more. He hoped like hell this was only the beginning, because he definitely wanted more of the shifter.

Roarke cleaned both of them and the wall before shutting off the water. When Spencer turned to face him, he saw the beast inside had receded. Roarke’s expression was grim and his hands flexed at his sides.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You needed me,” Spencer said.

“I could have hurt you. I marked your hips with my claws. What if I’d done more damage than that?”

“You didn’t, and I trust you completely. It worked out fine.”

“You won’t have much time before another heat will hit me,” Roarke said. “Can your ass handle a rough fucking about ten more times between now and morning?”

Ten? Christ!

“Grizzly shifters either pair off with a shifter mate who can handle their needs, or they take more than one person to bed during their heat. Something tells me you don’t want another man here with us,” Roarke said.

“I can handle it.”

Roarke arched a brow. “You can handle another man here or you can handle me?”

“Either. If you want someone else here with us, then I’m willing to accept that. But unless you have a regular fuck buddy I don’t know about, who do you plan to call?”

“Can you handle two shifters?” Roarke asked.

Holy fuck. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Taking on one grizzly was one thing, but two? Maybe he didn’t mean another bear shifter. Two monster cocks might be more than his poor ass could handle.

“What kind of shifter?” Spencer asked.

“Whoever they send.”


Roarke smiled, his fangs flashing again. “There’s a shifter run escort service. They have clients in all the major cities. One call and someone could be here within the hour. So, what’s it to be? Are you handling me on your own, or do you want me to invite someone to play?”

He’d never thought Roarke was the type to share, but Spencer had to admit he was intrigued. He’d never been with more than one man before. What exactly would that entail? He knew they’d both be working hard to please Roarke, but the thought of another rough fucking — times ten — had him nodding in agreement. As much as he wanted Roarke, he knew he wasn’t equipped to give the bear everything he needed, as much as he wanted to. He’d never dreamed what it would be like to fuck a bear during his heat cycle.

Roarke picked up the phone and made the call.

And then they waited.


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With an overactive imagination and a penchant for making up stories, was it any wonder Dulce Dennison decided to be an author? From cowboys to shapeshifters, she has a story for them all, but her passion lies in writing m/m romances. Dulce believes in love in all shapes and sizes, and that everyone deserves a happily-ever-after.

Married since 2000 to a man she isn’t sure is quite human, her husband and children (which she fondly calls the demon spawn) keep her busy, but never too busy to write. Is there such a thing as too busy to write? Most mornings you can find Dulce set up with her laptop, a cat curled up next to her, and a steaming cup of coffee just an arm’s reach away.

Dulce loves to hear from her readers! You can follow her on Facebook and Twitter or visit her website at

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Sexy Saturday: Branding Gemma by Paige Warren #BDSM #threesome




Publisher: Siren Publishing
Cover Artist: Harris Channing
Genres: Contemporary Romance, Cowboy Romance
Themes: Menage a Trois, Rubenesque, BDSM
Length: Novel

Gemma Brower is determined to turn her life around. Having fallen about as far as she can, she’s ready to climb out of hell and find her way. She’s determined that she isn’t ready for another relationship after her last one ended so badly, but then she meets Synclair and Ryan Black, two brothers who are as different as night and day. She’s not the only one in instant lust. The brothers have resolved to have her any way they can get her.

With her ex acting like a crazy stalker, Gemma has more on her mind than her love life. Trevor’s calls are escalating and she’s worried he may come after her. After one too many threatening calls, she confides in the brothers, who vow to protect her at any cost. But is Gemma ready to trust again? Her heart is already battered from one failed relationship after another. Dare she attempt to fall in love once more?

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His lips quirked on one side and he gazed at her with humor for a moment, then the look was gone and the Dom was back in control. Synclair tied the sash around her head so that very little light came through and she was completely blind. Now she would have no choice but to rely on her other senses.

She heard someone rummage in the box again, Ryan she figured. A moment later, something soft and light trailed across her right nipple, making her jump. The little bud seemed to like it though and hardened even more. Moisture pooled between her legs and tingles zinged from her nipple straight to her pussy. The soft item trailed across her nipple again, circling softly, then flicking harder.

Gemma bit back a moan as her womb and pussy clenched. She wanted to squirm, but knew she’d be reprimanded for such an offense. This wasn’t her first rodeo, after all.

“Ryan, why don’t you come over here,” Synclair said. “Stand behind our sweet Gemma and hold her pussy open for me.”

Oh lord! What was he planning now? Would she survive the torture?

She felt Ryan’s presence behind her, then his arms wrapped around her as he gently spread the lips of her pussy, exposing her completely to both men. God, she’d never been on fire like this before! Her whole body ached to be touched, caressed, and kissed.

The soft fluffy thing traced up the inside of one thigh and down the other. Tense, needing to come, and wanting to beg him to play with her pussy, she bit her lip again.

Synclair chuckled. “You know, brother, I do believe our delightful Gemma is trying not to cry out. Wouldn’t her mouth look exceptionally pretty with a ball-gag in it?”

Ryan groaned. “I don’t know who you’re torturing more, her or me.”

“You’ll get your reward soon enough,” Synclair promised.

Then it happened. When she least expected it, the soft, fluffy thing stroked her pussy, brushing against her aching clit. She bit back a moan, but couldn’t stop herself from thrusting her breasts forward. It stroked her again, lightly teasing, fanning the flames of her desire. She strained against the cuffs as her body tightened, needing release.

“Syn, don’t you think she deserves a reward?” Ryan asked.

The soft thing swirled against her clit again, making her thighs shake.

“Do you need a reward, little one? Does Gemma need to come?”

“Y–Yes. Please.”

“I’ll let you come, but you don’t stop until I say so.”

What the…How was she supposed to do that? It wasn’t like she could control her orgasm. Really, she’d tried in the past and always failed.

There was a bit of rustling, and then something cool and firm teased her pussy, gliding up and down, but not quite slipping inside, where she wanted it most. There was a soft click and then she felt it vibrate. Her heart raced, knowing her orgasm was so close at hand, and she clenched her hands into fists, trying to retain some semblance of control over her body. But then, that was the whole point, wasn’t it? She wasn’t in control of her body. Synclair was.

She didn’t have time to brace herself. One moment he was teasing her, the next he thrust the toy inside of her, pressing another piece of it against her clit. Her back bowed, her mouth opened, and the loudest cry she’d ever heard spilled from her as she came long and hard. The toy was relentless, buzzing against her clit mercilessly, making the orgasm go on and on. She felt moisture slip from her pussy and pool under her ass on the chair, and still Synclair didn’t relent. She jerked and bucked under the onslaught, not certain whether she wanted to close her thighs or spread them wider. It was torture. It was ecstasy. It was the most intense experience of her sexual life.

There was a click and the vibration died down a notch. Tremors still racked her body, her pussy still throbbed, clenching and grasping at the toy inside of her. Slowly, her body relaxed, twitching every now and then as he kept her right on the edge of another orgasm.

“Ryan, why don’t you come around here,” Synclair said.

She felt Ryan move away and mourned the loss. She’d felt close to him, with his arms curving around her.

“Look to your right, Gemma.”

She faithfully turned her face in that direction. There was some whispering that she couldn’t quite catch, and then she heard a zipper slide down. Her pussy clenched again, this time in anticipation. Were they going to ditch the toy? Was one of them going to fuck her? God, she hoped so! She wanted them, so badly. Both of them!

“Open your mouth, Gemma,” Synclair commanded softly.

She did as he bade and felt the head of a cock brush against her lips. Reaching out with her tongue, she swirled it around the tip, licking up the pre-cum that was building there. If her nose didn’t deceive her, it was Ryan feeding his cock to her. He tasted sweet and salty at the same time and she readily accepted him, twirling her tongue around his shaft as he eased between her lips.

“You’re going to hold still, Gemma,” Synclair said. “If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”

Her nipples tightened to the point of pain, his words turning her on almost as much as his actions had so far.

“Ryan, fuck her mouth. Drive your cock into her until you come. Understand?”

“Yes.” Ryan growled.

Ryan fisted her hair in his hand and fed her more of his cock. He withdrew a little before plunging inside again, this time not stopping until he touched the back of her throat. She stroked him with her tongue during every thrust, wanting to push him over the edge. She was so focused on Ryan, she’d momentarily forgotten Synclair, until he swirled the toy over her clit, making her thighs clench as more moisture leaked out of her.


Where to find Paige…

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Throwback Thursday: Something Even Better by Kate Douglas #interracial #ContemporaryRomance #BBW @changelingpress


For two bi guys love is a very good thing. Finding the woman of their dreams? Something Even Better.


Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres: Contemporary
Themes: Interracial, Multiple Partners,
Bisexual, Big Beautiful Women
Length: Novella

In an attempt to discourage his persistent ex-wife, Caj Baptista lays a kiss on a good-looking gay man, figuring that will make the point that he’s no longer interested. But Marc Mirot isn’t gay — he is, as he tells Caj after an absolutely magnificent first kiss — open minded. And Caj discovers he’s not quite as heterosexual as he’s always thought. In fact, he realizes he’s as open minded as Marc. And then the two men meet Ginny. A lush, voluptuous earth goddess of a woman, she’s absolutely perfect — if they can only convince her that while two is good, three is something even better.

Purchase at Changeling Press



This has to be an alternate reality, because it can’t be real. My life has never been this good, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to pinch myself. If it’s a dream, I don’t want to wake up. I glanced at Marc — Marc Mirot, long O, silent T as he was quick to explain — sitting across the table from me in the same classy little restaurant and bar where I’d first met him, and the guy winked. How the hell he made me feel that wink in my balls I’ll never know, but he really has my number.

He has it, because I gave it to him. My number, my lips, my ass, my love. Hard to imagine I can say that after only a week, but it’s true. I still can’t believe I did what I did. Trying to get rid of a clingy ex-wife and an absolutely crazy ex-mother-in-law, I made a move I never would have thought I’d have the balls to do. Walked up to a perfect stranger, a good-looking guy sitting alone at the bar in the restaurant where my ex and her mother had chased me down, put my arms around the dude and whispered in his ear, “Help me out. Pretend you’re my lover.”

Yeah, it’s pretty desperate when a guy who’s a hundred percent straight lays a kiss on another guy to convince his ex he wants her to stay an ex, but Marc didn’t even hesitate. In fact, he kissed me — kissed me like there was no tomorrow, but for me, that kiss opened up a whole set of new tomorrows.

So tonight, we came back to the same restaurant where we met to celebrate our one-week anniversary. One week of the best sex I’ve ever had — the best sex, and the best time. Marc’s funny and smart, and so sexually free that he can appreciate a beautiful woman as well as a good-looking guy.

Which takes me back to that alternate reality, dream, I-don’t-want-to-wake-up-from thing, because we’d both just experienced deja vu in a most amazing way. Sitting here avoiding the glances of a group of scrawny, overly-made-up man-hunters when a veritable earth goddess walked into the room. I commented to Marc that I thought she was totally hot, and he sort of gave me a weird look, but then the anorexic tribe gave her the brush-off when she waved at them, which really pissed me off. So I looked at her and smiled.

And she smiled right back, turned away from the skinny bitches and walked right up to me. I stood to greet her when she leaned close and whispered, “Please. Help me out. Pretend you’re my lover.”

So I looked at Marc and smiled at him, then said so softly only the three of us could hear, “How about if we both pretend we’re your lovers?” Her eyes went wide, and I kissed her, and damn it if she didn’t kiss me back. Her lips were so perfect, so soft and full that I could have kissed her for hours, but Marc was already on his feet, hugging her from behind. I gently spun her around to Marc, and he practically bent her over the table he was so into it. I was afraid we might have scared her, but when Marc finally ended the kiss, she looked at him so dreamy-eyed that I almost laughed.

“That’s sort of the same look I have on my face after he kisses me,” I said. And Ginny — her name’s Virginia Kalani, but she goes by Ginny — said, “I can believe it.”

So now we’re sitting here and I’ve got Ginny beside me in the booth and Marc across the table and Lord, if I’m dreaming, I really don’t want to wake up. Because this is exactly what Marc and I were just talking about. My feelings for him are so strong, but I like women, too. I’m still not sure if I’m gay — Marc refers to it as being open-minded — but as much as I’m beginning to love Marc, I’d been feeling as if there’s something missing.

At least I felt that way. Past tense. Now, since Ginny’s joined us at the table, not so much. Now it feels as if whatever we have, me and Marc, whatever the feelings are or where they’ll lead, if Ginny’s part of the equation, we’ve got exactly what we need. I don’t know how to explain it and I don’t know if Ginny is even interested, but I want her. And I want Marc. And I don’t want to have to choose between one or the other.

So I’m not pinching myself. I don’t want to wake up. I want this dream to last.



Kate Douglas really likes to write hot. Known for her sexy Wolf Tales series that began here at Changeling Press, she’s known for pushing the envelope on those larger than life stories. She’s a mom, a grandmother and a wife of over 40 years to a really terrific guy who puts up with all her “writer-related” idiosyncrasies. Still, her fantasy world keeps her smiling as she creates off-the-wall stories with sexy heroes and kick-ass heroines.

Be sure and “like” Kate at and follow her on Twitter @wolftales. You can read excerpts of all of Kate’s books at Just click on the erotic romance link, and if you’re interested in winning the occasional free book, join her newsletter at

Throwback Thursday: Hellacious (boxed set) by J. Hali Steele #TBT #BDSM #PNR #DarkFantasy #interracial @JHaliSteele @changelingpress

Satan’s sons create havoc, but nothing can protect them from the women who capture their hearts.


Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Paranormal, Dark Fantasy, BDSM
Themes: Dark Desire, Interracial, Multiple Partners
Length: 161 pages

On Earth Sly Sathariel creates all sorts of havoc, though he never takes a life. His father, Satan, reserves that power, yet not even he can keep Sly from the arms of the pure and spiritual woman representing the Tree of Life. She entangles him in her roots, pulling Sly in a direction his hellacious soul dare not follow.

Slick Sathariel is Satan’s third born, the youngest triplet. He keeps the peace and makes everyone happy but himself. Not anymore. Slick can’t tell the woman he desires his family may be responsible for her lover’s disappearance, or that he’s the devil’s son. But when he sets out to capture her for himself, his family’s prying just might cause Slick to lose the one thing on Earth he truly wants.

Wicked Sathariel, the eldest son of Satan, has finally met his match, and at the oddest of times, she turns up in his head. Accustomed to having his father and siblings rummage through his mind, he can’t handle his woman seeing his hellacious thoughts. And when it becomes clear she’s heaven bound — all hell breaks loose!

Publisher’s Note: Hellacious (Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Sly, Slick, and Firstborn.

Purchase at Changeling Press



Momma had a sense of humor. Said she named us after three of Daddy’s better traits — Sly, Slick, and Wicked. She called us hellacious sons-of-bitches and Sathariel was the demonic surname she tagged us with in his honor. We were the sons of Lucifer himself, and since Mother had been human, we were permitted above, as were other unimportant demons who wreaked havoc on Earth and its inhabitants. It was in our blood to take absolute advantage of every glorious moment, even though a blast furnace of heat followed us everywhere. Still, nothing rivaled the fires of Hell. And unbeknownst to humans, cold was just as bad because Hell froze over each time some asshole muttered the fateful words, “’till Hell freezes over.” Never lasted long but it would be so fucking cold a demon’s nuts could crack.

Guess God had a sense of humor too.

* * *

Raucous music blared in the club, glasses clinked and people shouted over the din. Desire railed against Sly’s rib cage. Desire to unleash what he truly was, strip himself bare of the make-believe human image he wore and let loose the beast that ruled him. The hellish creature wanted nothing more than to crawl between big thighs and screw the brains out of the vision of loveliness dancing alone not far from where he stood. Pale, thin women didn’t excite Sly. He liked deep tanned, soft, curvaceous bodies with wide hips and ample breasts.

This one had it all.

Sly could barely contain himself as he watched her swivel and gyrate her ass in front of the stage where the DJ did his thing. Her raw scent, the smell of sweat and womanhood permeated the air, teasing his dick to a stiffness he couldn’t control — didn’t want to control. Horns and hooves wanted to burst through his skin, fingers wanted to reach into the pussy he’d sniffed for far too long now.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her. She had been here each night he came to this particular club for the last month, and something about the woman kept drawing him back.

Oh, man, I want some.

Looking across the crowded bar, he caught his younger brother smiling.

Stay the fuck out of my head, Slick. This one’s mine.

Sly, born minutes before Slick, could best him most of the time, run circles around him when need be. But the firstborn triplet wouldn’t be so easily caught off guard.

Sharpening his vision, careful not to let the red flames of Hell lick from his eyes, Sly searched the room for Wicked. He couldn’t feel him, no telltale smell of fire and brimstone that often preceded the eldest. Wick took anything he wanted when they walked on Earth, and it usually turned out to be something or someone his younger siblings had their eye on. Wicked skated on thin ice with the power below each time he used humans, then tossed them aside as if they were old shoes never to be worn again.

Except with their father’s express permission, they didn’t kill.

Disturbing the balance between good and evil wasn’t allowed. What Wick left behind bordered on dead. Mere shells of men and women, afraid of their own shadows, bereft of the spark of life in their sad, vacant eyes. In that broken condition they held no appeal for Sly or others like him who slipped from below to cavort in their very own human playground. Wick was off somewhere, and if Sly knew his father, he’d concentrate all his energy in the older brother’s direction.

Thank God, because he wanted this woman for as long as she could take his heated passion.



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 be roaming where her fictional big cats live — in the high desert of California. She enjoys spending time with her sisters and friends who willingly listen to her ramblings about the paranormal world of vamps, shifters, angels and anything else that goes bump in the night. They’re a captive audience, but she promises to untie them soon!

A multi-published author, 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.

You can visit her at or on Facebook at She blogs every Friday at and she answers ALL emails at



Divulging Secrets by Lynn Burke #NewRelease #ContemporaryRomance #Suspense @AuthorLynnBurke @evernightpub


Divulging Secrets
by Lynn Burke
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Art Work: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Keywords: Romance, Contemporary, Suspense


Candace Lake’s testimony against her father landed her in the Witness Protection program. With a new identity comes a new beginning, one based on lies and loneliness. How can she find someone to share her future with when a relationship without trust at its foundation won’t stand the storms of life?

Tom Berkley didn’t expect his new tenant to make him question his solitary lifestyle in the backwoods of Maine. He also didn’t expect to be caught up in the secrets of her past that bring his own tragic ones to the forefront of his mind.

The sizzling chemistry between them can’t be ignored, but when the threats from Candace’s turbulent past catch up with her, can she trust Tom enough to protect her from the price on her head?





Evernight Publishing:


Amazon UK:



I followed the two marshals carrying the four suitcases I’d been allowed to pack. Nothing personal, no documents. No electronics. I had been forced to leave behind Butter, my old tabby that I had gotten for my tenth birthday. The locket my late mother had inscribed with my name and gifted to me on my sweet sixteenth birthday still lay inside its velvet box, left with one final longing, loving gaze, same as I’d done with her in a satin-lined coffin five years earlier.

Boston’s spring air chilled me through as we stepped outside, and I gladly climbed into the dark-windowed sedan, wrapped my sweater tight around me, and allowed myself one last look at the condo Papa had bought for me.


My throat thickened, and welling tears blurred my vision. I had unknowingly helped him smuggle millions of dollars’ worth of stolen gems and jewelry to and from overseas.

I had knowingly helped put him behind bars in return for leniency in my own sentencing. But freedom had cost me my life.

Everyone and everything I had known for twenty-five years lay in my past, and a new beginning loomed before me. Where, I had no clue—and I couldn’t bring myself to care. My luxurious condo … gone. My group of friends … gone. The gym I’d been going to for yoga classes since moving to Boston for college … gone. The diploma I had received from Harvard Law School with Lila Scorzoni written on it would never hang on my wall.

I followed the marshals aboard a small, private jet inside a hangar at Boston’s Logan. Settling onto one of the seats, I tipped my head back and shut my eyes.

The knot in my stomach had twisted months earlier when my lawyer suggested testifying against Papa to save my own ass. The nauseating twist had yet to relent, but at least I’d lost those damn freshman twenty I’d picked up over the years spent in college.

The only good thing to come from the fucked-up situation that was my life.

I heaved a sigh and turned my head, opening my eyes as the plane sped down the runway. We lifted into the air, leaving my home behind. Forever.

Drawing easy breaths had proven difficult since finding out Papa wasn’t the successful business man—honest one—I’d always thought. His communications business at the office building downtown worked as a front for his shady dealings. The board of six who had helped to oversee said company, nothing more than a band of thieves.

Witness protection.

My mind chewed on the two words, but I wondered how protected I would be. Four of Papa’s associates were in the slammer, thanks to me, and two who had last been seen overseas—one in Rome, the other in Paris—still wandered free. Two men with the connections and motive to do away with me. Money at their disposal and without doubt, thugs or hitmen on their payroll.

Where could the WITSEC plant me that would be safe from such men?

Nowhere, I feared.


Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.









#NewRelease – Partners in Love @AuthorRBrochu #LGBT #GayRomance



When an unplanned and unwanted remodel of his apartment leaves Detective Dylan Vancarr homeless, the natural thing for him to do is turn up on the doorstep of his best friend and partner, Tyler Wilky.

An arrangement meant to last only for a night quickly turns into a surprisingly comfortable new life for the both of them.

While living with Tyler and realizing just how easily their lives mesh, Dylan quickly begins to realize that he may have found a partner for more than just the job.

He may have found a partner in love.





“Hey, Ty?” Dylan practically whispers.

“Yeah?” Tyler hums back.

“Things’ll be better tomorrow, right?” Dylan doesn’t want to admit to the way his voice breaks on the question, doesn’t want to admit that sometimes the job gets to him like this.

To his credit Tyler doesn’t say anything, doesn’t call Dylan on his moment of weakness and need. Instead he wraps his arm a bit tighter around Dylan’s shoulder, pulls him in closer and moves his face so that he can whisper in his ear.

“Yeah, princess.” Tyler’s breath is warm against his skin. “They’ll be better tomorrow. I’ll make sure of it.”

The funny thing is that Dylan’s pretty sure that Tyler can do it, and that tomorrow will be better because it won’t dare defy Tyler’s truly epic stubbornness.

Dylan drifts off into a hazy state of almost sleep, comforted by Tyler’s familiar presence and the rhythmic puffing of warm breath on the side of his neck.

It’s comfortable and comforting being so close to Tyler. It feels more like home than anything Dylan’s felt in years.



Bookstrand  /  Evernight  /  Amazon






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