Showing posts with label interracial romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label interracial romance. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 5, 2026

Private Party Teaser #rabtbooktours




BDSM Erotic Romance, Multicultural & Interracial

Date Published: August 7, 2026



Newly divorced, Brandi’s in trouble. What she doesn’t need? Her past coming back to haunt her.

 

Reeling from her ex-husband’s infidelity and buried in the mountain of debts he left behind, Brandi needs to make money -- a lot of money -- fast, or she’ll lose her home. When she applies for a job as a hostess at an adult club, the last thing she expects is to come face to face with her high school flame.

Greg has grown up a lot since high school, but he’s never forgotten the woman who left him behind. No longer a quiet geek, the self-made multi-millionaire intends to win Brandi back, and his first step is to make her an offer she can’t refuse. He hires her as his escort for the evening at an adult party in his mansion. Now he has one night to convince her he’s matured into the masterful mate she needs.

The following excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+. 

EXCERPT

Brandi stared at her reflection in the mirror. The lush black velvet suited her better than she’d expected, contrasting nicely with the soft brown of her skin. She’d had her hair styled last month -- the day before her world fell apart -- and it fell just below her shoulders in a shimmery dark curtain. Definitely a good investment. She twisted sideways, wiggling her butt. Yup. That skirt was short. Real short. Short enough she’d be afraid to bend over. Then again, if she bent over her breasts would probably spill right out of the low-cut top that formed the other half of the costume. Did people really work in outfits like this?

She gave her head a mental shake. Of course they did. If you wanted the big tips, you needed to show off a little of the merchandise.

Life wasn’t fair, and happily ever afters only happened on the pages of those sappy romance novels. Losing her job and then watching her husband desert her for a teenaged slut sure brought that one home in a hurry. She needed this job, needed to pay off the huge stack of bills he’d left her with before she lost her home as well, and in this labor market she couldn’t afford to be picky.

When she’d seen the ad for a hostess at a local after-hours club, she’d plastered what she hoped was a come-hither smile on her face and applied for the position. If nothing else, it would give her some breathing room while she figured out what she wanted to do. She’d be damned if she’d let that lecherous excuse for a husband ruin her life.

Opening the front closet, Brandi perused the selection of winter coats. Since she’d been reduced to using public transit, she’d better make sure the skimpy costume didn’t get her mugged before she got to the interview. The man who’d dropped off the costume had been very specific. The interview for the job was at three sharp, and the manager did not expect to be kept waiting.

Picking a thick wool coat that fell partway down her calves to hide the scandalous outfit, she made sure she buttoned it all the way up to her chin. Catching a chill and sneezing all over the manager would not improve her chances of getting this job. She grabbed her purse off the side table and locked the door behind her.

* * *

Oh, shit! Brandi folded her hands behind her back and tried not to stare. Greg Bridger. With the way her luck had been going lately, why hadn’t she realized it would be him doing the hiring when she desperately needed the job? Greg Bridger was the guy she’d spent her entire high school career dating. The guy everyone expected her to marry. The guy she’d walked out on for the worthless piece of trash who’d just deserted her for the pom-pom queen.

She hadn’t kept track of him for the past ten years, hadn’t really given him much thought while she’d been so entranced with her scumbag of a husband. Maybe she should have. He carried himself with a self assurance that spoke volumes. He wore his dark hair short these days, in a cut that flattered the rugged lines of his face. Six feet tall, he had the muscular frame of someone who spent hours every week at the gym. That hadn’t always been the case.

Although he’d been quiet in high school, more of a geek than a jock, Greg had always had plans and dreams, big dreams. Somehow she never thought of him settling for a safe job like manager of an adult club, even if it was the most popular club on the east side of town. Maybe he’d decided to trade in his dreams of corporate success for that fantastic body.

She had no idea if she had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting this job. If Greg recognized her, he gave no sign. He circled her slowly, his eyes impersonal as he made notes on the clipboard he was holding. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes linger with just a hint of lust on her cleavage? And should that upset her or give her hope?

Brandi made an effort to rein in her errant libido and tried not to fidget. It wasn’t her fault. Seeing Greg again had been a shock, and reawakened feelings she’d long forgotten. He’d been an enthusiastic, if somewhat awkward lover in high school, and he’d matured impressively in the last ten years. Sex appeal was stamped all over his rugged frame, and if she were honest with herself, she had to admit that her husband had never really satisfied her in the bedroom. She’d always longed for him to be a bit more inventive, but he’d never really done more than give her a quick slam-bam before he’d rolled over and commenced snoring.

After the first few disappointing months, she’d resigned herself to a less than inspired sex life. She was surprised to feel the corner of her mouth tugging upward as she wondered if the little tart he’d run off with was getting bored with his insipid technique yet.

“Do you find this amusing? I was under the impression you wanted this job.” Frost tinged Greg’s voice as he stopped in front of her, one dark eyebrow raised in query.

“Not at all, sir.” It was fairly obvious he didn’t recognize her, and personal history aside, she really did need this job. “I was thinking of something else. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” His voice rang with disapproval. “I expect my staff to pay close attention to my instructions at all times.”

“Of course.” Damn. She really needed this job.

“Well, then.” His gaze swept over her in frank assessment before he consulted the tablet. “I have to say, I don’t feel you are suited for the position.”

Brandi felt her heart drop. She really needed this job. “You don’t? I’ll work really hard, I promise.” She hated the whining note in her voice. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. Just give me a chance.”

A hint of a smile hovered at the corner of his mouth. “I’m afraid not. We are looking for someone younger, someone the clients will keep buying more drinks from in the hopes of getting lucky.” His gaze swept over her briefly. “You are definitely not the cheerleader type. The clients would take one look at you and know they were outclassed. I do, however, have another opening that you might be interested in. If you would care to take a seat out in the lobby while I finish up here?”

Crap! He’d as much as told her she was over the hill. Definitely not something you want to hear from an ex-lover. Then again, he had mentioned another position. She’d come looking for a job, not a lover. At least he wasn’t holding their shared past against her, assuming he even recognized her. He’d given no signs.

 

 

About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

 

Website

Facebook

Twitter (X)

Goodreads

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress




RABT Book Tours & PR

Wednesday, May 20, 2026

Audit This Teaser #rabtbooktours

 


Interracial Romance, Mystery & Suspense

Date Published: May 22, 2026



No matter how you add the numbers, Nick is one hunk of an auditor!

When government tax auditor Nick finds himself obsessed with the work of romance author Khloe Matters, there's only one thing to do. Audit her! But getting a closer look at the author in her own home just makes him switch his obsession from the writing to the writer.

When he accompanies her to a writers' festival, things heat up in a hurry. Neither of them is being entirely honest, and as the weekend progresses so does the hilariously tangled webs of deceit as each of them seeks to further their own agenda.

 


EXCERPT

"What do you mean you're disallowing ninety percent of the expenses I claimed?" Khloe tried not to scream at the smug smile on the auditor's face. Hard to believe her libido had jumped to attention when he'd first showed up at her door. Just went to show how bad a judge of character she was. "You can't do that. They are all legitimate business deductions."

"Really?" The man raised one of those perfect brows. "Care to explain how a trip to Spain qualifies as a business expense? You're a writer. You don't have to leave the house. You don't even have to get dressed."

Khloe gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath to calm herself down before she answered. She knew his name. Nicholas Carver. She just didn't think a government auditor deserved such an impressive name. Calling him a dumb-assed bean counter probably wouldn't help her situation, though.

"Although I have not claimed any clothing expenses, I assure you I do have to get dressed. My neighbours are a conservative bunch. I do have to leave the house occasionally, and I generally make a point of putting some clothes on before I do. That trip was for research." Well, duh, what else would it be? Maybe this guy got all the looks and none of the brains. "My last mystery novel was set in Madrid during the running of the bulls. I needed to be there to get the feel of the place and understand the atmosphere, how the crowd reacted. I wouldn't stay in business long if I didn't pay attention to the little details. Readers can smell a mistake a mile away, and if I lose their trust I'll be working at the grocery store for a fraction of what I make writing."

The auditor snorted. "Quite the drama queen, aren't you? I might accept the research excuse if the tone came through in your work, assuming we're talking about a published manuscript. Do you have a copy of that alleged book?"

The sceptical tone of his voice, not to mention his use of the word "alleged," set Khloe's teeth on edge. How dare he sit there in his perfectly pressed suit and make her justify every item on her tax return? Oh right. He was the almighty tax department auditor! Maybe it would help if she curtseyed or kissed his ring or something.

She smiled sweetly. "Of course." Turning, she ran her fingers along the spines of the books on the shelf. Plucking Bullfighter's Downfall out, she handed it to him. It took quite some effort to keep her smile from turning into a snarl. "I hope you enjoy it. It spent two months on the New York Times Best Sellers list."

He took the book, his brows rising at the cover picturing a couple in a passionate embrace against a backdrop of the famous bull run. Turning the book over, he read the back cover before looking up at her. "Romantic suspense? You're one of those kinds of authors?"

Okay, he might be the big-shot auditor, and he had the ability to make her life, not to mention her finances, a living hell, but he had no right to use that tone of voice when describing the genre she loved.

"Exactly what do you mean by that?" She straightened up to her full five feet five inches and glared down at him. "If you mean one of those authors who can take two characters, introduce them to each other and make them fall passionately and fervently in love while they dodge bullets, murder, mayhem and other nasty plot points, then yes. I'm one of these kinds of authors. And in case you don't believe me, you might want to ask the thousands of readers whose buying habits have put me on the New York Times Best Sellers list time and again."

"No need to get defensive. It's hardly War and Peace but I'm sure it's a very nice story."

It took all of her willpower not to grab the heaviest book on the shelf and smack him over the head with it. War and Peace indeed! "Have you ever tried to read War and Peace?" She took a step forward, gratified at his flinch. "My books are meant to entertain people and take them away from their everyday lives, not bore them to death."

He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "Well, no, I haven't actually read it. I'm more of a John Grisham fan. Lots of war but not much peace."

She felt the tension in her gut relaxing a bit. He wasn't quite the pretentious prig he looked like. Actually, if she took an honest look at him, he resembled the cover models for some of her steamier books.

And that gave her an idea.

 


About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

 

Website

Facebook

Twitter (X)

Goodreads

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress



RABT Book Tours & PR

Wednesday, December 3, 2025

Holiday Fatigue Teaser #rabtbooktours




Gay Christmas Romance, Medical, Interracial

Date Published: December 5, 2025



For husbands Peter and Abe, Christmas is a time for miracles -- and unexpected party crashers.

 

Peter is all set to make this Christmas season the best for his husband. That is, until a cat is all but thrown into his lap and an unexpected and unwanted man crashes at their house for the holidays. Worse than the lack of privacy is the curtailing of their light BDSM play.

Abe can’t say no when an old flame begs for a place to stay. Temporarily. This man has fallen on hard times and needs a little kindness. However, there’s something more he wants than a roof over his head. As Abe struggles against seasonal depression, a couple of cats come to enliven the home he shares with Peter.

Between grief, jealousy, and a prying houseguest, can Abe and Peter kindle their spirits toward lovemaking and the holidays?

 

WARNING: Holiday Fatigue includes references to cutting behavior and thoughts of suicide that may be triggers for some readers, as well as mention of animal cruelty.




EXCERPT

 

Peter didn’t love the end of the semester, no matter that it meant a day off from teaching. He would much rather be filling his students’ heads with math facts than plugging in grades. Of course, if he hadn’t left so many assignments till the last minute, having graded them but not bothered to put them in the computer… He threw up his hands in exasperation and then signed, to no one in particular, “Why do I always do this to myself?”

He glanced around, seeing he was still alone in the classroom he shared with another co-teacher. He would normally not worry about others seeing him sign. Most people were hearing folks and didn’t know more than the alphabet, if they even knew that much, in ASL. He worked, though, at a school for the deaf, and the chances of someone knowing he was frustrated were high.

Probably some of the other teachers were in the same boat, having pushed off putting grades in the computer until this, the last day of the quarter before winter break. That was of no comfort when his co-teacher, Laura, was done with her grades and was hanging out somewhere in the building until three o’clock.

He darted a glance at his watch, saw he only had an hour and a half to finish inputting grades, and signed a little F-bomb.

An hour later found him sweating and swearing in his head, trying to work so fast that his fingers kept tripping over each other.

Someone touched his shoulder. He jumped a foot. Turning in his chair, he saw Laura gazing at him with a look of concern on her face. Then that expression passed and she wrinkled her nose at him before signing, “Are you still working?”

He nodded, wanting to return to his work but not wanting to put his back to her. That was rude.

“Give me your login and the list of remaining grades. We’ll divide and conquer.”

He hesitated, but only for an instant. Laura wasn’t the type to make offers like this every day. “Thank you,” he signed. “Why are you --”

“Consider it the gift from your Secret Santa.” She smirked. “You forgot we were exchanging gifts in the teacher’s lounge at 2:30, didn’t you?”

“Guilty,” he responded.

“Give me your login and I’ll help. Then you need to give your gift before your person leaves.”

“Too late,” Peter signed back before handing her a stack of graded papers. Hands free again, he signed, “Brent’s already left for the day. His kid got an ear infection on the last day of school.”

“Sucks,” she signed, her face sympathetic.

He jotted down his computer info and walked it over to her as she booted up her machine. “Thank you, Laura. Really.”

“I forgot to get you a gift,” she admitted.

“This is better than some ten-dollar token,” he assured her.

At exactly 2:58, he shut down his computer. Laura, who was a faster typist than he was, had finished her stack about five minutes earlier.

“Go home,” she signed. “Just don’t count on me saving your ass in the spring.”

He got out as soon as he could, his thoughts turning from gratitude to dreams of his husband. Abe, named for the poet and playwright Kobo Abe, wasn’t a fan of this particular holiday. Peter had been slowly changing that for his lover over the years, but each year it was a struggle to find out what would help Abe forget his pain.

He waved at another teacher as he headed for the main doors. This was a relatively new guy and for a moment, Peter couldn’t remember his name.

“Hi, Peter,” the unnamed man signed. “Have a good break.”

Peter frowned, realized he probably looked like the proverbial grouch, and held up a hand for the new teacher to stop. “What’s your name?” he signed.

“Estaban.” He grinned. “Spanish as the day is long and a gift from my immigrant parents that I don’t always appreciate.”

Yes, Peter remembered now. He hadn’t interacted with the new Spanish teacher since he’d arrived here two months ago because he was on another floor and that might as well be in another kingdom. “Sorry,” he apologized. “My brain is…” He shrugged.

“Already on break?” Estaban suggested.

Well, in a way, Peter thought as he excused himself and went outside. He walked to the sidewalk that paralleled the street. He could order a shared ride from the front of the school, but he felt restless. It was two hours before Abe would even be thinking about coming home. All day, Peter had been thinking, not of the grades or his lackadaisical way of letting them pile up, but of his husband and Christmas. Now, as he turned down Forrest Street in Colton, which was the college town closest to their home in Marisburg, he considered his unusual agitation. Abe had been acting steady as the day was long for a while now. There was no reason to expect he’d sink into depression. Even if he did, it wasn’t as if depression was his choice.

Peter looked up when he saw a flash of color out of the corner of his eye and had to smile. Every single tree had lights in their branches. Most of the lights were the beautiful, if common, white ones. The tree he was currently looking at had been decorated in tiny, colorful orbs. He smiled up at the tree that stood out. He touched the bark of the tree and grinned in appreciation. He would bring Abe down to see this tree. They’d call it the “Christmas Pride” tree.

Having a plan for this Thursday night at last, even if it was only to view a tree that stood out among its fellows, Peter took out his phone to order his shared ride. Before he could drop his gaze to the screen, he was caught off guard by another swash of color, this time moving fast. Self-preservation made him look up as a car, slowing abruptly, seemed to coast in front of him. With the colorfully decorated tree in the way, he couldn’t see everything clearly, but something was hurled out of the passenger window before the car sped off again.

People were such slobs. He wasn’t a trash collector by nature, but something about the white and black thing thrown out of the car’s window caught his attention. It was the right size to be any number of things, but the way it had twisted in midair… He went to the snowdrift where the careless people had aimed… and when he peered into the hole made by the object, he saw yellowish eyes looking back at him.

He gaped even as he tore off his winter coat and stooped to scoop up the little animal. It was a kitten, he realized, or a very small cat if it was full-grown. Mostly white with black splotches, it hissed at him as he bundled it into his coat.

The little critter wriggled hard and managed to get a paw free. The cat lashed out with razor-sharp claws and if not for Peter’s gloves, he would have taken quite the injury. As it was, one tiny cat nail caught in the leather of his right glove and the cat opened its mouth wide, surely making quite a fuss.

Peter carefully freed the little demon’s claw and reworked the bundling so the cat wouldn’t hurt him. If he’d been tossed out of a moving car, he’d be pissed too.

As he trekked back to the school, thinking of having the nurse check out the little feline monster before he took them home, the cat’s name flashed in his mind, and he grinned even as he cautioned himself that surely he and Abe couldn’t keep this little fighter. He’d try to impress upon whoever ended up with the cat that his or her name was Catankerous.

As he walked, goose bumps popped out on his arms, which were covered only by a short-sleeved polo because the school tended to run hot. He thought about nuzzling Catankerous, but the wicked gleam in their eyes made him reconsider. He wished he could speak to them, let them know help was coming.

Maybe two dozen steps from the front doors of the school, the cat settled down and quit struggling. Then, through the coat where he’d pressed it against his chest, Peter felt the attack cat begin to purr.


About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

 

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter


Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

Pre-Order Today


RABT Book Tours & PR

Friday, June 27, 2025

Jack and Gil New Release Blitz #IndiGo

Title: Jack & Gil

Author: Emily Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press

Cover Art: Angela Knight

Genres: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Dark Fantasy, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: 2nd Chance Romance, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, LGBTQ+ Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Shapeshifters

Series: Jack & Gil (#4)

Multiverse: SearchLight Academy (#11)

Book Length: Box Set

Page Count: 470

Synopsis

Gilbert Sullivan, crown prince of the basilisks, hates his name, but he fears the rhyme may be prophecy.

Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 1): When Prince Gilbert Sullivan meets Jack Sowerby, the new head of SearchLight, his attraction won’t let him stay away. Jack’s need for Prince Gilbert blossoms and he’s unable to resist -- until he’s forcibly changed into a magical creature. Will their shattered relationship ever be restored?

Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 2)

Jack is falling apart, but no one seems to notice. As Jack withdraws, the tide of war rises. Jack must find a way to regain his strength and determination or SearchLight will fall. And he’s convinced he must do it alone.

Rhyme of Love (Jack & Gil 3)

Gil struggles to hide his loss of status from Jack, but when he finally confesses, Jack blurts out his secret. Jack knows he screwed up. Well, almost. Running the risk of losing Gil, Jack must learn to lie convincingly, or he’ll lose SearchLight, his life, and Gil, as well.

Excerpt

Jack & Gil
Emily Carrington
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Emily Carrington
Excerpt from Rhyme of Longing

Jack wanted so badly to be done with this night that he felt uncomfortable in his skin. That was not the proper way to begin thinking about his sixty-eighth birthday, his five-year anniversary as the head of SearchLight Academy. This was a party for both those things but no one said “no” to Agent Weinberg.

Not necessarily the most powerful magical being in the world, she was still the head of the entire organization. Even though she held the nominal title of “head of Public Relations,” SearchLight’s whole reason for existing was to protect the relationship between magical and nonmagical peoples. Which was, of course, officially, no relationship at all. SearchLight was a secret and must remain so.

The influence she held would make most magical creatures bow in submission. Jack, being merely human, was suitably impressed. And although as yet not cowed, he was too fond of his life to waste it needlessly. Not that Agent Weinberg had killed anyone. Recently.

Jack took a deep breath in through his nose as the limousine pulled up to the curb. He’d been commanded to take this limo and the implicit service of a driver, and although he hadn’t enjoyed it particularly, he was glad that he hadn’t needed to find a place to park in downtown Washington, DC. So, unsure if he was supposed to tip the driver but wanting to show his appreciation, he stepped around to the driver’s side after the car was parked at the curb and offered the person behind the wheel, whom, his telepathic sense, told him wasn’t human, ten dollars.

“Would you be trying to bribe me to take you home, Agent Sowerby?”

Jack saw the humor in the green eyes turned up to his and smiled. “Never in life,” he told the Irish-sounding sprite or Faery or leprechaun. Damn, sometimes he wished for a werewolf’s sense of smell so he’d know the magical creatures around him at once.

“You’re a good man, Agent Sowerby. Don’t let her bully you now.” And with that, he winked and rolled up his window. Jack stepped around the car to the sidewalk and watched the limo drive away.

“Hey there.” The voice was soft, lightly accented, and full of a syrupy, sarcastic undertone that put Jack’s hackles up. He turned more slowly than he could have, wanting to appear older and so less threatening. He gazed at the three people facing him and saw they were all armed.

He was aware of others watching from the doorway of the restaurant but knew they wouldn’t intercede unless it became obvious he couldn’t handle himself. That was one thing about Agent Weinberg he didn’t like much. She believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy.

The woman who’d spoken was smiling in a particularly condescending way. “Got a handout for me?” She twirled the knife in her right hand as she reached out with her left for the ten spot Jack still held.

Jack offered it, keeping a good distance from her, forcing her to step forward to take the bill. He was aware of the other two moving to flank him. He disliked using his telepathic sense against what he considered to be defenseless people, magical or mundane, and yet he wouldn’t risk his own life to preserve theirs. “I suggest you take this and be on your way,” he said softly, putting a slight psychic push into the words. He blanketed the area with his calming presence, lacking the ability to focus on more than two people at once. Both of the men who’d been flanking him stopped. One of them shook his head but the other was definitely under Jack’s control.

“Back off,” Jack said and watched the woman lower her knife a little.

She snatched at the bill and her knife hand flicked upward.

Jack dropped the ten spot and caught her wrist. The knife’s blade skidded across the waterproof material of his trench coat. He forced her to drop the knife as he said, “Go away.”

The man under his control turned and fled. But the other lunged at Jack. Yanking the woman close, Jack used her as a shield. The other man’s blade slid between her ribs. He swore, stumbling back, and lost his grip on his knife. As he turned to flee, Jack lowered the woman to the ground. He shouted, “Someone call nine-one-one.”

Someone joined him out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t Agent Weinberg. It wasn’t a SearchLight agent he knew. There was regal bearing in the other’s posture as he crouched beside Jack. “Let me heal her.”

Jack didn’t protest, although he did skate his telepathic sense outward to determine if this was a magical creature. The fact that he’d said “heal” rather than “help” argued for him not being human. He came into contact with an impenetrable psychic wall and winced as his telepathic sense bounced off. Well, there weren’t all that many humans who could resist even his most casual reach. Ergo, this was a magical creature.

Jack nodded and said, “Go ahead.” He retreated inside his own head and as he pulled out his cell phone, unwilling to trust to others to call for help, he watched the broad-shouldered male beside him spit into his hand and press the palm against the wound even as he pulled the knife free.

Dragon, Jack thought. Dragons could heal with their saliva or a blood exchange. But this wasn’t a dragon Jack knew.

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Shapeshifter Central

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code! 


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Wednesday, May 7, 2025

Immortal Heat Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

BDSM Romance, Gay, Dark Fantasy

Date Published: May 9, 2025

 

 

Three vampires battle the lives they left behind to build a future out of the ashes of their pasts.

 

Immortal Steps: Tain, a renowned Celtic dancer, has bitter memories of his first crush and the trainer who left him without a word. For years he's flung himself from one brief romantic encounter to another, the subject of tabloid gossip and speculation, always insisting he's not gay. When Kyle, Tain's old mentor, comes back into Tain's life, the last thing Tain wants is to give the man, or the vampire, a place in his heart.

Hidden Depths: Pat's devoted his life to locating the wreck of The Pelican's Flight, sunk in 1692, along with forty other ships, when the infamous town of Port Royal slid into the Caribbean. Jamie lost more than his lover when The Pelican went down. Pat offers Jamie hope at finding his ship, along with a chance at rediscovering love. Will the secrets they share bring them together? Or tear them apart?

Vampires In Heat: Humans in Seattle are dying as a result of domestic cat vampires and demonesses working together. The latest victim is Erron's neighbor and best friend. Nolan, the leader of Seattle's Pacifistic Vampire Clan, and Erron, an albino who is commonly mistaken for a vampire, team up with the cat vamp leader to find the rogues who are killing needlessly and trying to discredit vampire-kind. And just maybe, between them, they'll find more than a remedy for this vampire scourge -- like love!


Publisher's Note: Immortal Steps, Vampires In Heat, and Hidden Depths have been previously published as stand alone novellas.


 

 The following excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+.

EXCERPT

Excerpt from Immortal Steps

 

Alone, Kyle Lohan entered his private balcony at the Grampian Theater in Edinburgh, Scotland. As he sat down, the house lights dimmed briefly to signal a two minute warning before the show began. The box smelled faintly of sex, although he doubted anyone without a vampire's heightened senses could detect the erotic scent. Regardless, it was his own fault for sneaking in to watch rehearsals the previous evening. He'd been unable to resist tugging his cock in time with the heavy beat of the dancers as they practiced.

Okay, not all the performers excited him. Just one.

Tain O'Halloran.

Tonight Kyle had better prepared for the public performance, or so he'd thought. The quick release during his shower should have calmed his libido enough to sit through the performance without a hard-on. But as the first strains of a flute solo poured across the stage, the anticipation proved to be more than his body could resist and his cock rose to an aching fullness.

Tain. On stage. His stage.

How long had he waited for this? Worked for this? Dreamed of this? Sometimes it seemed like forever. And yet, very soon, the moment he'd been preparing for would arrive. One way or another, he would finally end his long pursuit.

He adjusted the fit of his tuxedo pants as the chorus sprinted across the stage. Their shoes hit the wooden floor in rhythmic, staccato beats, flirting with the notes. Kyle couldn't stop his own feet from scuffing against the floor in a pale imitation of the dancers' fancy footwork. Had his heart been prone to beat, it would have been racing as fast as the music.

A few more seconds...

Then, appearing out of a flash of light and smoke, bam! There he was. Tain O'Halloran. The male lead's long, sleek black hair floated behind him as he bounced in perfect synchronization with the little blond at his side. His grey eyes flashed with pure joy and a little arrogance. A smile curved his thin pink lips. And what that black leather did for his ass...

Kyle groaned softly as his cock twitched with longing, but he refused to slake his lust. Privacy wasn't an issue, even during a public performance. No, nothing mattered more than soaking up every moment of this night to tuck away in his memories. If the evening didn't go as planned, this could be all he had left to remember the talented young man come morning.

The first dance ended, and Kyle felt the tightness in his chest ease as Tain exited stage right. He'd reappear several times throughout the performance.

Kyle itched with anticipation for the next time, and the next... and the next... By the second act, Kyle could pick out Tain's unique sweat from the morass of odors permeating the air. The scent teased his cock like nothing else. His whole body tensed as he imagined jumping over the balcony's rail to land on top of the dancer's young bones, then fucking him to within an inch of his life, claiming him on stage for all the world to see.

Well, that's one way to announce that you're back in his life, Kyle thought with a rueful shake of his head. Definitely not one of your brightest ideas though.

If anything, such a bold, stupid move would get him thrown out of Tain's life for good. Kyle's goal was quite the opposite. If he had his way, nothing would separate him from Tain ever again.

The show ended with a roar of applause that pulled the dancers back on stage for a second encore. Vibrant and smiling under the lights, Tain looked like he could hold out for a third reprise if the director let him. However, the rest of the troupe wasn't fairing as well, so when the curtains closed again the house lights came up.

The show was over, but Kyle's performance of a lifetime was about to begin.


About the Author

Kira Stone has been around the block…the writer’s block, that is.

From vamps and witches to historical heroes, from futuristic scientists to paranormal corporate executives, from Canadian werewolves to off-world shifters, Kira has written about them all. Manlove has sparked hot and heavy in many of her plots, but Kira also finds a lucky lady to keep the sexy heroes company from time to time. While Scotland remains her favorite place in the world, Kira is constantly in search of new adventures to add to the creative primordial ooze where her best stories are born.


Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress


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Thursday, May 1, 2025

Gatos Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours

 The following promo contains material suitable only for readers 18+.

(Cat O’Nines)

 

LGBTQ+, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance

Date Published: May 2, 2025

 

 

Catkind -- they're rough, they're tough and they don't take no for an answer. But who'd want to say no? Not Gabriella, a barmaid in a tiny roadhouse named Gatos near the Mexican border. Nor her sister Marnie. With his sisters carried off by the Catkind, Tony's left to run Gatos, but he won't be alone -- a couple of misfit "alley cats" have joined forces with Tony.

Lucia's a party girl with two hot, hunky Catkind on her trail. Orion, a white Tiger, and Jomei, a Bengal, are royalty among the Catkind. They're about to learn Lucia's much more than a pretty face. When the four Gatos siblings return with their Catkind mates for a final showdown against their nemesis, Anuetta thinks she's got these tigers by their tails, but she doesn't count on the mighty strength of the Gatos family. The line's been drawn in the ashes, and the claws are out!


This collection contains the previously released novellas in the Cat O'Nines collection: Cat's Claws, Cat's Eye, Cat's Cradle, Cat's Meow, and Cat's Paw.

 



EXCERPT


Excerpt from Cat's Claws

"So there I am, standing in the middle of the street, screaming at him en Espanol. I'm calling him things our abuela would turn over in her grave to hear me say. And then she'd wash my mouth out with soap."

"Lucia, when are you going to learn?" Gabriella unlocked the door to Gatos' cold storage unit. "You stay away from men like him. They're trouble."

Lucia, her sister, had the fire of a Roman candle and a temper to match. She jammed her hands on her hips in indignation. "Like you have room to talk," she shot back.

"I do. Do you see me getting tangled up with any troublemakers like him?" She yanked open the door, and cold air escaped with a whoosh. "Uh-uh. Oh, that's good." Gabriella closed her eyes and swayed in bliss. It was a gorgeous day outside in the shabby outskirts of San Miguel, the sky pure blue and the horizon clear for miles. Which meant it was hot enough to suit the devil himself, especially back in the warehouse. She let herself enjoy the cool air coming from the cold storage unit for a moment, then got back to business. She nudged the handcart. "Come on, you take one crate and I'll take the other."

"We shouldn't roll out a keg?"

"If you think you can manhandle a keg in heat like this, dolly or no dolly, you're welcome to try. Grab a case for now. Tony can get the rest later." Gabriella sized up the hefty crate stamped with the Moctezuma Brewery logo. Nothing tasted as good or as rich as their cervesa. Moctezuma was why locals bothered traveling to her tiny, out-of-the-way bar. If the brew master hadn't been a friend of her brother Tony, no way she'd have gotten her mitts on any of their goods. "Come on, Lucia, put your back into it."

Lucia pouted briefly before bending and lifting the crate. Tendons stood out in her neck from the effort as she wrestled a heavy crate onto the dolly. "We need some strong young stud for this."

"And there you go again, thinking about men," Gabriella chided. "I'm not saying I wouldn't like to have a strong young thing around, especially if he's hot, eh? I'm saying we can get by fine without one. You seem to think that's a mortal sin, which is why I'm listening to you pitch a fit in the street." She tempered the sting of her words with the fondness of her tone.

Gabriella shut the door to the cold storage unit and clicked the padlock back in place before taking the handle of the dolly. Oof. She had to admit, the crates were terribly heavy. Together they headed back to the main room of Gatos, the tiny tumbledown bar that had been their sole legacy from their mother.

Not exactly a rich and abundant inheritance. Ah, well, Mama had tried.

Lucia was still stuck back on Gabriella's opinions. "You're telling me if a man like Roger came on to you, you'd say no? He looked so pretty." She swung around to walk backwards. "Those cornflower blue eyes and his soft golden hair. Like a prince out of a fairytale." Her pleading turned wicked. "And good in bed? He was a devil when it came to loving me."

"And how many other women at the same time?" Gabriella bumped open the swinging kitchen door. "Would I say no to a man like Roger? Hell, no, I wouldn't. But..."

Lucia rolled her eyes.

"But," Gabriella went on, not letting Lucia's scorn stop her, "I'd say yes long enough to enjoy his body. If he's as good as you say, I'd have fun with him for a few days then send him packing. No harm, no foul, and no broken heart that needs someone to sweep up the pieces."

Lucia scoffed. "You wouldn't know how to let your hair down if someone gave you a hands-on demonstration."

Gabriella's pride was stung. "Says you!"

"You're right, says I. You want to make a bet on this? Friday night's tip jar says you don't have the guts to take the next handsome guy who walks into Gatos for a test run."

Ay, Lucia had her there. Gabriella could never back down from a challenge. "I'm listening. What are the terms?"

Lucia stretched her muscles out before unlocking the cooler. "So we have a deal?"

"Not yet." Gabriella pulled the dolly close enough to the cooler to unload it. "Let me hear the details before I say yes or no."

"Like you would," Lucia smirked. "All right, here's the deal. When we open tonight, you and I man the bar. When the first hot guy walks in, one I decide is enough of a handful for even you, I point him out and that's when the game begins. You come on to him, you do whatever you have to do, and if he's safe you get him into bed."

"I'm not a slut," Gabriella objected, all the while hoisting crates and holding them for Lucia to unpack and stow in the cooler. "And how am I supposed to know if he's 'safe'?" She dusted off her hands after the last bottle was stashed away. "You have to give me more than that to go on. I'm supposed to proposition a customer? That'll give me a great reputation."

Lucia shrugged smugly. "So you're saying no? You're backing down already?"


About the Author

Lia Connor lives in the South, but her job takes her almost everywhere but. Her laptop is her best friend. Lia loves stories about BBW’s, hot, hot, hot threesomes and wily shifters who get into (and out of) all kinds of trouble...

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

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Thursday, April 3, 2025

Out-Houses New Release Blitz #IndiGo

Title: Out-Houses

Author: Kira Stone

Cover Art: Marteeka Karland

Genres: Contemporary Romance, New Releases, Romance

Themes: Age Gap (Older Man), LGBTQ+ Gay, Multicultural & Interracial, Multiple Partners /Polyamory, New Adult

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 55

This book contains material suitable only for readers 18+.

Synopsis

Out-Houses.com. The hottest gay-owned interior design business in Northern California.

When Paul joins the owners of Out-Houses.com, Alex and Toby, at their secluded cabin, it’s supposed to be a chance for them to work away from the distractions of the office. Instead Paul finds himself more distracted than ever -- and wanting to join in the fun.

Andy is late for a very important date -- with Toby, one of the owners of Out-Houses. Toby doesn’t like to be kept waiting and decides to teach Andy a lesson by giving him a spanking. Not the traditional way to start an interview, but at Out-Houses, anything goes.

Alex and Toby are great fun, but Paul wants a man of his own. Not just any man -- he’s got his sights set on Andy. Which would be fine, except Andy’s not looking his way. Or is he?

Excerpt

Out-Houses
Kira Stone
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Kira Stone

“Fuck me.” There was a startled gasp, then, “Harder!”

“You want it bad, don’t you?”

The sounds of slapping flesh accompanied the masculine voices emanating from the other side of the bedroom wall. Paul groaned and rolled over. His hard-on stabbed the mattress and he groaned again, this time from pain. It was gonna be a long, exhausting week if he had to listen to his bosses, the owners of Out-Houses -- the newest, hottest gay interior designer company in Northern California -- get it on in the living room every night.

Especially given his recent, secret aspiration of becoming the meat in their cum sandwich.

“Oh, yeah. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

Must be Alex doing the begging, the little slut. Paul pictured him on his knees, his fine caramel colored ass in the air. Desperate for what satisfaction only his partner could give him.

Toby’s deep bass rumbled in response. “Heh. No worries there.”

“Oh, fuck. More. More!”

Placing a pillow over his head didn’t help stifle the erotic noises coming from the nearby room. If he had to hear it, then Paul wanted to see it. Feel it. Be fully engaged in the action. Eavesdropping was a poor substitute for sating carnal lust. Last night he’d been jet-lagged enough to fall asleep. A drag queen in full voice wouldn’t have woken him. However, after spending the day shoulder to shoulder with his gorgeous employers, hunched over a work table studying a ream of concept drawings for a gay-oriented housing project, pinned between their two rock solid bodies…

Damn. Rock solid. Just like his cock.

He was never going to get to sleep as long as he had to listen to them fuck.

Paul tossed off the sheet covering him and slipped out through the sliding glass doors onto the balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean. He didn’t bother to dress. Dense shrubs on either side of the isolated beach house created a privacy screen from anyone walking along the cliffs. The only people he was likely to encounter were otherwise… engaged.

Two long flights of stairs descended from the deck to meet a short expanse of pristine white sand. Paul didn’t feel comfortable going near the water, in part because walking around in the dark in a strange, wild area had “potentially fatal” written all over it, but also because it took him farther away from where he really wanted to be. Inside. In the living room. On his knees. Sucking Alex’s cock while Toby pounded into him from behind.

Like that’s going to happen. Face it, Paulie, you may be ready, willing and able to bat for the home team, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get a chance to play in this ballpark.

Paul lifted his face to the ocean breeze, trying to clear his mind. He failed, miserably. No matter what lust-killing thoughts he injected into his brain, his libido returned him to the action inside. Toby’s large frame, black skin over corded muscle, wrapped around Alex’s lithe Latino body. Fucking like bunnies.

If it were just about the sex, he might have stood a chance at stemming this hormonal rampage, but Paul admired their internal qualities too. Both had high IQs and more ambition than a rookie Triple-A player after a spot on a major league bench. They were risk takers. Adrenaline junkies. And it was a good thing, because it would take as much guts as money to make their fledgling company, Out-Houses, a success.

But if anyone could do it, Toby and Alex were capable of pulling it off. Paul wasn’t sure how these two alpha males managed to work together so well, or how long their partnership, in and out of bed, could last. Meeting them through their website had been a fluke when Paul needed help with his bathroom plumbing. They’d needed an architect though, and he was ready for a change in jobs. However, the youth of their business and their relationship made signing on with them a gamble. If they broke up, chances were the company wouldn’t survive. Paul chose to take the risk with them. It was hard to walk away from a dream job.

And his dream of joining Alex and Toby during one of their lunchtime quickies.

Paul relaxed against the balcony rail. Moonlight spilled over his milk white skin, giving it a silvery sheen. He ran his hand down his chest, following the thin arrow of reddish-blond hair to his cock. In order to get any sleep at all, he’d have to appease his woodie sooner or later. Might as well be now.

But not quickly. Not something that would be over and forgotten in a minute like a quick jerk-off during a morning shower. Paul wanted to treat himself to something special. Something he’d remember for a long time to make up for the erotic ménage memories he’d have to live without.

Purchase at Changeling

Meet the Author

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

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code! 


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Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Raincatcher Pre-Order Blitz #rabtbooktours


Sci-Fi Romance, Multicultural & Interracial

Date Published: January 24, 2025


 

2147: Pollution has poisoned the earth, the seas and the air. Fresh, clean water is as precious as gold.

 

Rauni’s Mistress (Rain Catcher 1)

In the squalid red light district of Hobart Town, Roxy Talia earns her living as a porn star to make ends meet. Tobin Kane follows the monsoon rains across the ocean, collecting precious fresh water before it falls into the polluted seas. He and his crew have been blackballed within the industry. Tobin is determined to find a way to keep his beloved ship, the Rauni. That involves Roxy, the sexy vixen who holds the key to saving his future and has been the star of his lusty fantasies for years. Tobin will do whatever it takes to keep his ship -- even if he has to kidnap Roxy to do it…

 

Aqua Vitae (Rain Catcher 2)

When Audrey Purcell’s lover Kirk disappears in the aftermath of a bomb blast, the bittersweet experience transforms the shy, bookish girl into a brazen and reckless risk taker. Each shore leave sees her swimming in alcohol and rejoicing in one-night stands -- her latest fling being Joachim Muller, a navy commander with a body to die for. Her career takes a great leap forward when she’s given command of a derelict rain catcher, the Aqua Vitae -- but her success comes with a price. The echoes of her painful past clash with the promise of the future, threaten her lifelong dream with destruction.




EXCERPT


Excerpt from Rauni's Mistress


With wide eyes and a madly beating heart, Roxy Talia watched the tall, good- looking stranger enter the crowded hotel bar.

He was absolutely perfect.

His crisp uniform proclaimed him to be an officer, non-military, a merchant mariner of some sort. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the street lights, he presented an imposing figure, broad shoulders, trim waist, nicely shaped legs. Once he'd removed his face mask, he'd scanned the dimly lit bar room with barely disguised distaste. His chiseled features wore a sad, resigned expression.

When his dark, intense eyes settled on her where she sat at the bar and the spare stool beside her, Roxy's heart fluttered. Her nipples had hardened the instant his eyes met hers. That warm feeling in her belly she'd thought she'd never feel again washed through her like a spring tide.

He fit her needs exactly, but what was it about him? Her response was as bewildering as it was desired. She'd often thought these last few years that she'd become anesthetized to good-looking men. After all, she had her pick yet here he was, the man she had assumed didn't exist, shattering her jaded expectations.

He strode toward Roxy, fixing her with an unwavering gaze.

Roxy gasped, and her sudden intake of breath surprised her. She was actually nervous at the approach of this man. She took a deep breath to calm herself and tamped down the fear that her disguise was not good enough.

That afternoon, Roxy had taken considerable steps to prepare her deception. She'd dressed in a conservative business suit with a white blouse and knee-length gray skirt. She'd chosen platform stilettos to give her height, a tight bandeau to minimize her bust and a platinum wig to disguise her natural jet hair. For her face, she'd applied ivory foundation and powder to hide her golden skin, blue lipstick to alter the line of her lips and a fake mole on her right cheek. To hide her trademark green eyes, she'd inserted blue contacts and added azure eyeliner and turquoise shadow to alter their shape.

The hodgepodge of styles, business and tart, created a jarring amalgam of looks that would confuse any observer. At least that was what she'd intended. She believed herself to be unrecognizable and the three drunks who had tried to pick her up so far tonight hadn't seen her for who she truly was.

This man, however, was sober. It would be the test of her preparation and acting skills to fool him. He towered above her, his face impassive, his attitude commanding. "This seat taken?"

His voice was like honey. It flowed into her ear like sweet syrup, warming her all the way down to her fluttering belly.

"No," she said. The voice she'd decided on was deeper than her own, husky with a faint European accent to hide the Australasian nasal twang. She'd been practicing all afternoon, intending it to lead any listener to think she was just another environmental refugee trying to fit into Hobart Town and not quite succeeding.

The officer sat down. There hadn't been even a flicker of recognition. If anything, he displayed total indifference.

Roxy relaxed. Surreptitiously she gazed at the stranger in the bar's mirror. In between the bottles of imported and domestic Aqua and Hydra water and the ubiquitous range of Gills Beer, she considered his heavily defined features, trying to get a handle on his personality, as if facial lines told you anything about the inner workings of the mind.

His ebony skin, wearing the sheen of perspiration which was unavoidable in Hobart Town's enervating humidity, glowed in the bar's dim lighting. His short, black hair was closely cropped, exposing a nicely shaped skull. His face was heavily textured and seemed to attract the shadows.

"I'm Tobin," he said and she jumped in surprise.

He was staring back at her reflection. "I'm Su Sha Xie," she said, quickly adopting the name of her worst enemy in kindergarten, a petulant little girl who once had stolen her crayons.

His dark eyes narrowed. "Funny, you don't look Chinese."

"It's a long story."

Tobin signaled to the barman. "I'm not into long stories today. Want another?"

"Why not?"

He fished out his card, scowled and flicked it to the barman. "Wanna sit?"

She followed his gaze to a newly vacated table in the corner. "I thought we were."

"Something more comfortable."

"I'm not a hooker," she said.

"I didn't think you were." He stood up and waited, looking down at her. "Coming?"

Tobin's self-confidence was staggering. Then she figured out what it really was. He didn't care if she came with him or not. She was just a woman to him, one of thousands out on this hot Hobart night. Roxy quelled her momentary annoyance by reminding herself that this was exactly why she was here in disguise. She wanted, for once, to be just an ordinary woman.

"Sure."

The barman returned with two beers. Tobin took his card, picked up the bottles and, weaving through a group of drunken marines, strode over to the table.

Roxy followed. The view of his physique from behind was as impressive as from the front. His broad shoulders gave way to bulging biceps which were barely contained by the short sleeves of his shirt. He sported a trim waist, slim hips and oh so tight buns atop sturdy but shapely legs. The musculature of which screamed both stamina and strength.

Roxy approved. Unlike the men she knew, Tobin's body lacked the artificial contours gained in the gym. He was used to real work, and hard work at that.

Tobin sat down without waiting for her. "I meant it. I'm not a hooker."

"I believe you." He took a swig of his beer, his eyes fixed on hers. "I'm not looking for a hooker."

"What are you looking for?"

He took a swig of beer and motioned to the chair.

She sat.

"So, keeping it short, what's your story?" she asked finally, putting an amused tone in her voice.

He looked into his beer. "No potted histories, please. Let me tell you who you are and then I'll tell you who I am."

Her heart stopped. Damn it, he'd recognized her after all. She'd hoped she could have at least one encounter with someone who didn't know who she was. Her anticipation of the night she'd planned collapsed and the despair in the bottom of her chest stirred.

"We are two of a kind," he said slowly. "You tell me you're not a hooker, I say I believe you. Then you tell me again to make sure. You are balancing on stiletto heels to make you appear taller than you really are. You are wearing an appalling wig and, geeze, to apply all that makeup you must have used a bricklayer's trowel. So, I'm assuming you don't want to be recognized."

His eyes trapped her in an inescapable gaze and she felt like she was falling into their dark depths. Within her chest her heart thudded like a prisoner beating against prison bars and in her ears, her blood roared. She could barely breathe waiting for him to say her name and shatter her desire. She so much wanted this stranger not to recognize her.

"You don't want to be recognized," he repeated. "Well, that's fine by me. I don't want to know who you really are, and I'll believe whatever you tell me."

Confusion roiled inside her mind. What game was he playing? Did he recognize her or not?

Roxy cleared her throat. "You said we are two of a kind."

"Well, you see, Su, I don't want to be me tonight either. So the reason I'm here, in this bar in this dodgy hotel in this stinking rotten town, is to be anyone but me, okay? Like you, I want to be someone else, if just for the night."

 

About the Author

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.

 

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

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