Throwback Thursday: Accursed by Saloni Quinby #GayRomance #PNR #TBT #DarkFantasy @changelingpress


Can two suspicious men learn to trust one another before a demon curse destroys them both?


Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Paranormal, Dark Fantasy
Themes: Dark Desire, Gay
Length: Novella

At the request of his aunt, Medium Maxim Thomas travels to the London mansion of actor Ian Northhill to search for paranormal dangers. The first-born sons in Ian’s family have all died on their thirty-fourth birthday, and Ian’s is just around the corner. The problem is, he doesn’t believe in ghosts, demons or curses.

When Maxim and Ian meet, they’re overwhelmed by lust, but great sex doesn’t change Maxim’s bitterness toward actors or Ian’s loathing of “phony” psychics. Unable to ignore their desire for each other, the men try to overcome their prejudices. While Ian performs a retelling of Jekyll and Hyde on stage, a real life Jekyll and Hyde plots to destroy him. Will Ian trust Maxim enough to allow his lover to save him from the family curse?

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Aunt Judith gave Maxim a tour. The three-story house was made of brick and dark wood and had a narrow, winding staircase leading all the way up to the attic. Judith had her own living quarters with a spacious bedroom and sitting room. Her family pictures and needlework made her living space homier than the rest of the house, but nothing could fully soften the creepy coldness of the gargoyle carvings and general dimness that reminded Maxim of a dungeon.

“Do you feel anything at all out of the ordinary?” Aunt Judith pressed. Her brown eyes looked so hopeful that Maxim hated to disappoint her.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

He’d been in homes even older than this and some quite new ones that were clearly haunted — most by harmless and sometimes even friendly spirits, but here he sensed nothing.

Finally they stepped into an enormous parlor decorated in black, gold and burgundy. An elderly woman — still attractive with large blue eyes and gray hair braided down her back — sat by the fireplace. Maxim could hardly believe she was over one hundred years old.

Flames blazed in the hearth — a welcome chill against the crisp winter morning.

“Mrs. White, I’d like you to meet my nephew, Maxim Thomas.”

“Pleased to meet you, Maxim,” replied the old woman with a disarming smile.

“The pleasure is mine, ma’am.”

Maxim shook her offered hand. It was cool and slender, the veins prominent. He had expected her to have a delicate grip, but her handshake was surprisingly strong for her age.

“It’s a pity my son isn’t home. I’m sure Henry would love to meet you, but I fear he won’t be back from the theater for several hours.”

“Hopefully they can meet at another time,” Aunt Judith said.

“To be sure. In the meantime, please sit and join us for tea.”

Maxim sat in the chair the old woman indicated and Aunt Judith sat as well. Soon they were chatting. Mrs. White, despite her obvious mental issues, was very pleasant and talkative. At times she spoke quite lucidly, but in regards to her family, she was living a fantasy. She couldn’t distinguish between her deceased son and her living grandson. Maxim considered how difficult it must be, not only for Aunt Judith to care for this delusional woman day and night, but for her grandson as well.

A short time later, a woman of about thirty entered with a tray set for tea.

“Maxim, this is Melissa, the cook and housekeeper,” Aunt Judith said.

Melissa grinned. “I like to multi-task.”

“She’s doing a splendid job while Richards is away,” Mrs. White said.

“Richards is the butler,” Aunt Judith explained.

“A very interesting man,” Mrs. White went on. “His family has served ours since the days of Benjamin Northhill. Benjamin built this house in 1795. He was a genius in business and those excellent career instincts have followed every generation of Northhill men. Henry was quite good at business, until he got the wild idea to become an actor. Changed his name to Ian and has been treading the boards ever since.”

Maxim glanced at Aunt Judith and raised an eyebrow. He wondered if Mrs. White was even aware that her son — rather her grandson — was such a famous movie actor as well. It would do no good to ask, considering the poor woman’s mental state.

After tea, Aunt Judith finished the tour of the house, including the kitchen and attic. Again Maxim sensed nothing.

“Aunt Judith, you realize there’s probably no reason for concern,” he said softly, as they made their way to the dining room where Mrs. White awaited them for lunch. “Mr. Northhill’s grandmother is alive and well and she’s long past thirty-four. You say he’s in good health –“

“But, Maxim, I told you that it’s only the men in the family who die young,” Aunt Judith whispered.

“Then other women in the family have lived to a ripe old age?”

Her brow furrowed and after a few moments, she replied, “I believe Mrs. White is the only daughter in… well it must be generations. But we can’t discuss it now.”

Of course she was correct, since they had arrived at the dining room.

Maxim hadn’t planned to stay so long at the house, but during lunch he fell into conversation with the women and realized how much he had missed his aunt. She reminded him of his mother in so many ways, and he quite liked Mrs. White as well. After lunch they went for a walk, then played cards. Before he knew it, dark had fallen.

He glanced at his watch and said, “I seem to have overstayed my welcome. I should leave –“

“Hello,” said a cheerful male voice.

Maxim turned to Ian Northhill who approached, a pleasant smile on his lips, his rag doll hair windblown. He wore a black wool coat belted around his narrow waist.

Maxim felt a slight jolt. No, he wasn’t impressed by meeting a famous actor, but it felt a bit odd to see someone in person after viewing them on screen only. He was a bit surprised to see Ian wearing rather thick black glasses. Apparently the man usually wore contacts. Glasses meant a deficiency and heaven forbid a perfect, airbrushed actor would show the general public that he was somehow flawed.

“Henry, you’re home. Goodness, is the show over already?” Mrs. White asked.

“Uh, no, darling. In fact I must get back to the theater soon. I forgot something and came by to pick it up.”

“Ian, I’d like you to meet my nephew, Maxim Thomas.”

Ian’s charming smile broadened even more and he fixed his gaze on Maxim. Beneath the glasses, his eyes were every bit as blue as they appeared in his movies. He had a beautifully sculpted face — high cheekbones and a long, straight nose. His slender mouth had a perfect bow on his upper lip. Maxim found himself wondering how those lips would taste, then he felt a wave of self-disgust. He sounded like thousands of other fools who fantasized about an illusion. Ian was just a bloke like any other.

He offered his hand to Maxim. “Of course. Your aunt speaks about you often. I’m so glad to meet you.”

Ian already knew about him. That seemed odd, but in a way it made sense that Aunt Judith would mention him, in particular if she was close enough to Ian to be concerned about his welfare.

“I often wondered why you didn’t visit your aunt sooner, but she tells me you’re quite busy running a shop in Leeds.”

“Yes.” Why couldn’t Maxim think of something else to say. Not that he had to worry. Ian had apparently inherited his grandmother’s gift for conversation.

“And you went to school in Australia?”

“I did.”

“A lovely country. I’ve been there several times on promo tours. Enjoyed it immensely. How long will you be in London?”

“Just until Tuesday. I’m off to find a hotel now, actually. I didn’t intend to visit so long, but we started talking and –“

“Well you’ve come to see your aunt, so why not stay here?”

Maxim wondered if he looked as surprised as he felt. “Here?”

“There’s about half dozen guest rooms. Why not put at least one of them to use?” Ian said with another easy smile, then his brow furrowed. “Unless you have other plans. That must have sounded terribly pushy of me.”

“Actually that sounds like a wonderful idea,” Aunt Judith said. “If it’s truly all right with you, Ian?”

“Absolutely. In fact I wish I had more time to stay and talk now, but I really must get back. Goodnight, darling.” He stepped toward Mrs. White and kissed her cheek.

“Have a wonderful show.” Mrs. White patted Ian’s hand, then glanced at Maxim from the corner of her eye and said, “I just can’t bring myself to tell him to break a leg. Silly of me, I know.”

Ian chuckled softly. His gaze met Maxim’s and Maxim’s heart skipped a beat. Somehow Ian’s eyes seemed even lovelier in person — they were so big and their expression soft, yet they glittered with confidence and vitality.

“See you later, Judith,” Ian said, then turned to Maxim and offered his hand again. “A pleasure to meet you. I look forward to talking more later.”

“Glad to meet you as well.” Maxim took his hand and was again surprised when Ian gave his a double squeeze. Had Maxim imagined it? Surely the man couldn’t have —

Yet according to the news media, Ian had no confirmed partner, either male or female. He’d been open about his bisexuality. Was it possible he was interested in —

No. Absolutely not. And even if he did have an interest in Maxim, it would do him no good. Maxim wouldn’t date an actor. Not after —

The whole idea was insane. Even if Ian was attracted to him, he would most likely only be seen with one of his own kind — another actor, director or model. Someone who would look pretty on his arm at industry events and enhance his career.

Not a shop owner.

And this shop owner was certainly not interested in another self-absorbed bore.

Ian released his hand, swept out of the room and headed for the stairs. Maxim glanced after him.

“Well it seems my boy has taken quite a liking to you.” Mrs. White wagged a finger at Maxim.

“So it seems.” Aunt Judith glanced at Maxim with a half-smile on her lips. He almost felt as if she was psychic — sensing his frustrating attraction to the wrong kind of man. Yet for Maxim it wouldn’t be the first time…



The child of a painter and a psychic dreamer, Saloni Quinby feels spirituality and storytelling go hand-in-hand. She loves the scent of gardenia, the sound of wind chimes and the taste of honey. By listening to what isn’t said, she creates works based on unspoken desires. Saloni prefers blurred gender lines and many varieties of romance. In a world where passion must at times be restrained, she believes erotica is a pleasure to be shared. With her stories she would like to make her fantasies yours and hopes you enjoy the ride.

Saloni can be found online at


Sexy Saturday: Against the Wall by Harley Wylde #ContemporaryRomance #newadult @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress




Wanted: One hunky handyman to mend her lonely heart. 


Against the Wall (A Bad Boy Romance) by Harley  Wylde

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Contemporary
Themes: New Adult
Length: Novella

Grady: Handyman and heartbreaker. I’m damn good at my job. While my hands have been occupied building a deck for the delectable Madlyn Sparks, what I’ve really wanted to do was trace every one of her curves with my tongue. I bet with just one touch she’d go up in flames. My dick’s been harder than a damn post since I took this job, but I learned the hard way not to fuck myself out of a paycheck. But once this job is done, all bets are off.

Madelyn: Grady has done a fantastic job on the deck, but I didn’t really hire him for his carpentry skills. The man is fine as hell and I’ve wanted to take him for a ride ever since I saw him on my doorstep. Never in my wildest dreams did I think getting attacked would bring us closer together. He went from hunky handyman to overprotective bodyguard in an instant, and now that we’re living under the same roof, I just can’t keep my hands off him. Just one problem… now that I’ve had him, I never want to let him go.



“I need a shower,” she mumbled against me.

The thought of her soaking wet with soap sliding down her long legs didn’t help my situation any. I shifted in an effort to get her a little further away from the danger zone. All she did was snuggle closer.

“I’ll keep watch out here if you want to get cleaned up,” I offered.

Her hand slid a little further down until her palm slid across my very erect cock. “Or you could join me.”

My brain short-circuited. That was the only explanation. Surely, she hadn’t just suggested that we shower together?

She looked up at me. “I’d feel so much safer with you in there with me.”

The mischievous look in her eyes told me that it had nothing to do with safety. Maybe the princess wanted me as much as I wanted her, but I still wondered if it wasn’t in response to what had happened to her. There wasn’t a textbook way to react to being attacked. Maybe she needed to feel closer to someone?

She tried to shove me off the bed and I stood up, not wanting her to hurt herself. Madelyn slid off the bed and grasped my hand, leading me into the bathroom. The room was about as big as my bedroom at home, with a shower that was definitely big enough for two. She started the water and turned to face me as she shimmied out of her shorts and tossed her tee on the floor. Her swimsuit was just as appealing as it had been out by the pool. When she reached for the strings holding it in place around her neck, my heart gave a kick.

“Are you sure about this, Madelyn?” I asked. “Maybe you should call one of your friends if you need to feel close to someone.”

She stopped and stared. “Is that what you think? That I want you to shower with me just because I need to feel close to someone?”

I shrugged.

“Grady, I want you to shower with me because you’re hot as fuck and all I’ve thought about since I opened my door to you that first day was getting into your pants. I want you, Grady. I need you. But it has nothing to do with what happened today.”

My gaze traced the curves of her body. “In that case, princess, strip.”

She gave me a saucy smile as she pulled the strings on her top until it fell to the floor at her feet. She shimmied out of the bottoms, and my mouth went dry at the absolute perfection of her. Madelyn came a little closer, reaching for me. Her fingers skimmed along my abdomen and my muscles tensed under her light touch.

I arched a brow as I stared down at her. “Well, what are you waiting for, princess? You going to unwrap that monster cock, or have you changed your mind?”

She peeled my boxer briefs down my legs, and I kicked them away, my cock springing free. I didn’t brag — often — but I had been more than a little blessed in that department. A good ten inches and too big around for her to hold me with one hand. Her eyes widened. “You want it?” I asked her.

She nodded.

“How much do you want it? You want it bad enough to wrap those pretty lips around it?”

Madelyn whimpered a little as she fell to her knees.

I touched her cheek. “If it’s too much at any time, stop. I only want this if it’s good for both of us.”

“I’ll make it so good for you, Grady.”

I had no doubt that she would. I bet my little angel could take me straight to heaven. Her tongue lapped at the head of my cock before she fitted those luscious lips around it. Her mouth was hot, wet, and so fucking good I never wanted to leave. She sucked and licked my dick like a damn pro. When she pulled back, her tongue flicked the underside of my cock before she swallowed me down again.

“Baby, I’m gonna blow. If you can’t take it, pull away now and wrap those dainty little hands around me.”

She sucked harder, and my balls drew up. There was a tingling at the base of my spine, and then I was coming. I watched her through heavy lidded eyes as she swallowed every drop. It seemed my angel was as talented as a porn star, and I couldn’t wait to find out what else she could do.


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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 Jessica’s website at or Harley’s website at Want to be notified of new releases or special discounts? Sign up for her newsletter!



Throwback Thursday: WRONG by Shelby Morgen #ContemporaryRomance #BBW @changelingpress


Michael’s set his sights on improving Katie’s theory of the Big Bang — in more ways than one.


Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Contemporary
Themes: Cougar (MF), Big Beautiful Women
Length: 22 pages

Katie’s got her eye on tall, dark, and hunky, wrapped in black leather and jeans.

Problem. He’s so sinfully sexy, she can’t get a word out in his presence. Not to mention the fact that he looks like he’s barely legal, at best. She needs to get him out of her system.

Michael’s got other ideas. He’s set his sights on improving Katie’s theory of the Big Bang — in more ways than one.

Purchase at Changeling Press



Go for it.

No, no, no. Not going to happen.

Come on, Katie. You can do this.

Absolutely not.

Oh my God. He looks even better without the jacket. Look at that body. And why do you think he’s holding the jacket there?

Katie tore her gaze away from the cowboy holding the jacket, firmly deciding not to speculate on what all that black leather might or might not be hiding. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy the book.”

Katie picked at the book cover, trying to contain her agitation. This was her third book signing in as many months, and the third time this cowboy had lined up for her autograph. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?

Stop staring at his crotch.

She averted her eyes, knowing she was blushing furiously. She looked down at the book in her hands — her latest release, Cosmic Theory and The Big Bang — and forced herself to quit thumbing the edge of the flyleaf.

I’d like to show him a big bang.

Oh, that was just wrong. She worked hard at not giggling. Physicists did not giggle. Not at book signings. And not because a handsome stranger stood in her line. Especially not when that sinfully sexy leather clad stranger’d shown up twice before — for the same book — and she’d still not been able to get a single word out of her stupid mouth.

You can do this! Come on, Katie. He’s next up. Say something. Anything! Speak!

She looked up into the most gorgeous set of blue-green eyes she’d ever seen — where were his sunglasses? — and, once again, froze.

“Michael,” he supplied.

What? Why was he telling her his name? Oh, so she could sign the book. Flustered, she reached for her pen — why had she set it down? — and knocked into her water glass. “Shit!” Katie clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Whoops!” Michael grabbed the glass — and the pitcher — just in time.

Michael — she’d already known his name — she never forgot names — had the grace to laugh, just loud enough to cover her indiscretion. Hastily flipping the book open to the title page, she wrote For Michael — you’re a lifesaver! Dr. Catherine Vargen. “Thank you,” she managed out loud.

There. She’d done it. She’d actually spoken to him. On some crazy inspiration, she pulled out one of her promo cards. “I’m giving a lecture at the planetarium tonight,” she offered.

“What are you doing afterward?”

She blinked, twice, looking, she knew, like an insane owl. “Excuse me?”

“Q & A? Group discussion?”

“Oh.” Yes, of course that’s what he’d meant. Idiot. “Yes, I’ll be fielding questions after the lecture.”

“Great. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you!” she repeated lamely as he headed for the register.

Giving her a great view of tight jeans over a really fine looking ass.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. Quit looking! Jail bait. You’ll get yourself arrested!

He couldn’t be that young, could he? No. College student. Had to be at least twenty-one or twenty-two, maybe. Still. Twenty years her junior. Wrong. Just plain wrong.

Yeah, well, all she’d done so far was look. Couldn’t arrest her for that. Not while he had his clothes on, anyway.



Shelby must be insane. What else would have led her to start an online publishing company? Shelby shares her belief in electronic publishing with her long-time friend and business partner, Bill, her husband of 30 plus years. Perhaps the insanity is contagious.

Shelby loves writing off-beat tales that defy as many rules as possible. She likes chocolate with her peanut butter, suspense with her romance, and kink with her sex. She’s always had a hard time keeping science fiction, fantasy, and paranormal from mixing with her kink. Fortunately for Shelby, electronic publishing has opened many new doors for cross-genre authors and artists.

Visit Shelby’s website for her latest releases. For a head’s up on new stuff, you’re welcome to join her Yahoo! group, Email Shelby at or blog with Shelby at



#CoverReveal Rocky (Dixie Reapers MC) by @HarleyW_Writer #bikers #MCromance #newadult


dividers 2

PUBLISHER: Changeling Press
COVER ARTIST: Bryan Keller
GENRES: New Adult, Contemporary,
Silver Fox (Older Man/Younger Woman)

dividers 2



He wants to taste her, to touch her, to claim her. And once he does, he’ll never let her go.



I was daddy’s little girl, until he didn’t come home one day. Mom moved on, married a rich guy I can’t stand, and his son, Sebastian Rossi, wants what he can’t have – me. I didn’t realize when I chose to run that I would crash down a mountain, or that the man who pulled me from the wreckage would rescue me in every way that counts. Rocky is the biggest, sexiest badass I’ve ever seen. And the more time I spend with him, the more I want to feel his lips on mine, his hands holding me, his body claiming me. I want him so bad I can taste it, but the stubborn man says I’m too young. I’ll just have to prove him wrong.


All I wanted was to brood in peace and quiet on my mountaintop while I tried to outrun my demons. I never expected that past to show up in the form of a sexy as fuck woman — a woman I shouldn’t touch. I’m not only twenty years older than her, I’m part of the reason her dad never came home. I’ll do anything it takes to keep her safe, even go home to Alabama. My brothers, the Dixie Reapers, will help protect her. I’m just not sure who’s going to protect her from me, because if I ever get my hands on all those curves, I’m not ever going to let her go.


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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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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