Ropacabana Teaser #rabtbooktours

 

(Viva Los Regalos 2)

A Futuristic Paranormal BDSM Romance

Date Published: October 16, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

Welcome to the Ropacabana, the hottest club in Los Regalos! Here you'll find the best BDSM floor show with the most exotically beautiful dancers. For the right price you can have anything in the Ropacabana -- including star of the show, Salome.

One client wants just that but he only likes to watch. He wants Salome to put on a private show for him and he's picked out just the right stud, er, guy for her to play with. Ropacabana bouncer Tony Fontaine.

Tony doesn't like the idea of having to put on a sex show as part of his job, but he loves the idea of learning all of Salome's intimate secrets.

Salome is more than pleased with Tony as her latest assignment, except for his habit of trying to look beyond her exotic dancer persona. Can Salome keep it all professional? Or will she make the biggest mistake someone in her position can make and fall in love with him?

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2026 Isabella Jordan

Salma Fuentes, known in Los Regalos as Salome, made her way offstage, tossing her crop onto one of the props tables as she went. Jerry, the stagehand, passed her a bottle of water. Ashley waited to help her into her short robe of crimson silk since all she was wearing at the moment were her nipple clips, four-inch stilettos, and diamond studded G-string. The backup dancers trotted along behind her, the applause beyond the curtains ringing out.

So went another night at the Ropacabana.

"Awesome show, Salome." Ashley smiled at her. "You looked so beautiful up there."

"Thanks." Salome nodded to the younger woman, hoping she could make it to the dressing room without being followed.

"Salome?"

Salome didn't stop, knowing Ashley wasn't likely to give up until she pled her case. "Yes?" Might as well get this over with.

"I was hoping to… um… talk to you if I could." The girl's tone revealed her anxiety. "If you have a moment, that is."

No matter how much ambition she could smell on Ashley, she just couldn't bring herself to be rude. She probably should have. Sure, her years in Los Regalos had made her cynical and jaded. Yet Salome wasn't so arrogant that she couldn't sympathize with the amount of courage it took for Ashley to approach her.

She was pretty sure she knew what the other woman wanted. It was always the same thing. Every year it seemed there was a new bright-eyed girl working backstage at the hottest club in Los Regalos wanting to be the new star.

She herself had once been one of those bright-eyed girls.

"I've just got a moment," Salome told her. "I have a meeting with Hamilton upstairs in ten minutes."

Ashley nodded, swallowing visibly in her nervousness. "Well, I was hoping you could give me some advice. I've been working backstage for the last year on all the shows I could get on with as an assistant. I guess I'm interested in doing more now. I'm hoping to become a dancer. You know, like you."

Salome smiled patiently at her, looking her up and down. As far as wereleopards went, Ashley was a fine specimen. A lovely girl with cocoa colored skin, gorgeous dark hair, and a thirty-nine inch inseam unless she missed her guess. Nice slender build but not too skinny. She had large breasts but not too large. They didn't look like they'd pull the rest of her willowy frame over with their weight.

Ashley's best features were big, dark eyes that were very trusting and open. Maybe a little too open. Ashley had always been a friendly girl, like a puppy. If Ashley had been a real bitch, Salome wouldn't worry so much.

She shook her head. Had the girl already been there for a year? In two more years Los Regalos would tear Ashley apart no matter what path her future took.

That or it would make Ashley a cynical asshole like she was.

"Why?" she had to ask the younger woman. "Why would you want to do what I do, Ashley? You're smart, right? You're educated."

Ashley nodded again, wringing her hands in front of her. "Well, I do have a degree from the real world but… there's not a lot I can do with that here."

"Sure there is." Salome sat on the edge of her dressing table for a moment, opening the bottle of water to take a long drink. "You could get an office job and work for one of the admins. You can make as much money there as you could doing this. Someone has to keep the books in this place. And trust me, you'd be a lot happier."

"Happier? Being a paper pusher? Sure, the money might be good but I'd die if I had to do that every day. Locked in an office, away from the shows? I could have done that in the real world. No, I came here to do more."

"You could still see the shows," Salome pointed out. "You could afford to come and see all the shows you wanted."

Turning to the mirror, Salome hurried to put herself together to meet with her supervisor. She didn't have time to change clothes or shower. There was really little point. He probably had a client he wanted her to fuck waiting up there right now. If she looked sweaty and disheveled, it was all for the better.

"You don't think I'd m-make a good dancer?"

Salome took a deep breath. Somehow she knew the girl wouldn't give up that easily. Turning back, she took in the girl's unease as she stood there, her little hands still busy knotting and unknotting.

"Ashley, I don't know if you can dance or not. I do see a woman who could do anything she wanted. I'm just trying to tell you to consider carefully what you choose."

The girl's eyes widened a little at that.

"How old are you?" Salome asked.

"Eighteen."

It figured. "I was your age when I started dancing up here."

"You're still so young and you're the star here."

Salome didn't miss the enthusiasm in the girl's voice. Enthusiasm was a great thing but there was something Ashley didn't quite grasp. "I'm twenty-five. I've been here for eight years and yes, I worked hard to get where I am. But where I am isn't exactly what you might think."

"What's to think about? Everyone knows who Salome is. Everyone comes here to see you dance. You look so gorgeous up there, so sexy. That's what I want. I don't mind dancing nude or suggestively. It's an art, a celebration --"

"There's a price," Salome warned.

 

About the Author

Isabella Jordan is the alter ego of an otherwise stressed out web designer, programmer, and internet junkie. When she's not trying to perfect her own personal caffeine IV drip, she enjoys spending time with her family, doing volunteer work, and writing. She loves creating new stories of all kinds and chatting with readers and friends.

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Cressida's Circle Teaser #rabtbooktours

Steampunk Adventure Romance

Date Published: September 11, 2026

In a world overthrown by witchcraft, a giant love has been lost. Can Cressida be saved?

 

Mourning the loss of her husband, Cressida Troy is on her way to Earth. Her mission; to meet the Queen of England and cement relations between the Lunarians and humans to present a united front in the approaching war with the Martians. For Cressida, the mission has a much deeper and personal meaning. Being human, as well as the Lunarian Empress, Cressida is plagued by doubt and guilt and seeks redemption for what is seen by many as the betrayal of her species. Matters are complicated when she is kidnapped by the pernicious witch, Lady Neva, who is hell-bent on revenge against Queen Victoria. Armed with unlimited magical power, Lady Neva is planning to usurp the crown and rule both Earth and space.

Meanwhile Jacob McLeary, Cressida’s former fiancé, is under the watchful and lascivious eye of Lavinia Branscombe, a Lunarian agent. Knowledge of the dark secret at the heart of the Lunarian society fuels Jacob’s loathing of the aliens, but with so much at stake, can love overcome the barrier of hate? Will Cressida find redemption?

EXCERPT

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

Like a child’s toy, the cradle of humanity filled the bridge windows with brilliant colour: blue, green, and brown, flecked with white, a gemstone set against the black velvet of space. If only people could know how insignificant this world was in the scheme of things, floating silently in the incomprehensible emptiness.

Pointless philosophising distracted me for only a moment. My heart trembled with anticipation. I was nearly home.

The Lunarian crew, in their natural form, goblin like, winged with leathery skin and large bright eyes, ignored my presence, as they should. Though they were experienced, with hundreds of trips behind them, piloting a spacecraft was not something to be taken lightly, especially with me on board creating the expectation that everything should be executed perfectly.

I would have put them at ease, but that would have been churlish of me, I realised. They wanted to impress me, and lowering expectations would have been like a slap in the face, a sign of patronising condescension on my part. Not an endearing action no matter how well intended.

I turned my thoughts back to the sparkling globe before us, and the people who awaited me. I’d read how the ancients believed that the souls of the dead fled their bodies and ascended to the moon, a way station before reincarnation, or their ultimate disposition in paradise or the underworld. Little did they contemplate that souls from that grey desert of a world would descend upon the Earth and conquer it.

I had to be careful how I approached not just the Queen, and her parliament, but most importantly the bureaucracy which ruled from the shadows and exerted more power than she could ever hope to wield. I hoped they understood we humans were a conquered species. Of course, behind the mask of cheerful bonhomie and expressions of respect as they delivered begrudging cooperation, there would be fear and hatred. From that febrile soup simple misunderstandings could bubble up and poison the nascent relationship.

The politicians had wanted a state visit to impress everyone with the importance of our relationship, and to thank me for using our power to save them from their European enemies. Though our reasons differed, I agreed with Her Majesty that ostentatious displays of pomp and ceremony were unnecessary. She wanted to maintain her image of the Warrior Queen and didn’t want to share the adoration of the crowds as the saviour of the Empire. She feared the loss of face if I was seen as an equal.

I wanted none of that either, feeling as disloyal as I did for my part in what was fundamentally the takeover of her empire. I requested a low-key, quiet visit. A gentle introduction back into human society. One in which I would not feel such a fraud. With Her Majesty’s relieved endorsement, my desire had carried the day.

The other vexed issue was the taking of her son the Prince of Wales by Lady Neva. I had to placate and convince her that we were doing everything we could to return him to her. Though she detested the Prince -- after all he had been intimately involved in several assassination attempts, and she had come so close to strangling him with her own hands -- he was her son.

Randolf, my bodyguard and general factotum on this mission, floated at my side. “My lady,” he said softly into my ear. “Amanda has prepared a meal.”

“Thank you, Randolf.” I had skipped breakfast, and as always, my body servant had correctly anticipated my needs. I was indeed feeling hungry.

Randolf was a handsome, powerfully built, athletic man. His bright azure eyes reminded me so much of Jacob’s. My body stirred, my nipples hardened, and my quim throbbed. He and his female counterpart, the stunningly beautiful Amanda, had pleasured me delightfully and often since we had left the moon, and I had gratefully surrendered myself to them. That train of thought pushed the need for food aside. I wanted to be pleasured again.

I took Randolf’s proffered hand, and we glided to the access chute that led “down” to the passenger quarters. His body heat pulsed through his tunic and through my gown to warm my flesh. He wore no pants, and his stiff cock swayed enticingly as he propelled himself before me. Amanda was awaiting us, naked and undeniably aroused, the nipples of her ample breasts pink and erect. I gave her an encouraging smile to confirm my thoughts were of a similar nature.

Being firm, she countermanded my desire with the advice that I needed sustenance. She offered a full English breakfast: steaming scrambled eggs, kippers, ham, bacon, and sausages, kidneys, mushrooms, and fried tomatoes. A feast for a multitude. With a petulant pout, I took a dainty bite of each and finished with a cup of tea and a slice of toast. I’d maintained a salacious gaze which lingered on her almond-shaped eyes and gave rise to a pink flush to her cheeks. When I’d finished, I gracefully dabbed my mouth with a napkin and took Randolf’s cock in hand.

“Keep the food warm, and join us,” I told Amanda. “I may eat some more later. My current appetite, though, is for the diverting pleasures of unbridled fornication.”

Making love when one has no weight, once the initial challenges are overcome, is a sublime enterprise, more like an ethereal ballet of the most intimate kind. Holding your partner in a close embrace, limbs entwined, his cock held snugly by one’s tight sheath, so that you become as one, spinning, rotating, pirouetting like a ballerina celebrating a mind-shattering climax.

 

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.

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

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So Passes the Night Teaser #rabtbooktours

Paranormal Sea Adventure Romance

Date Published: July 17, 2026

One wild night, two sexy seamen and a voluptuous woman -- three broken souls seeking completion.

 

First Mate Cade Talbot disobeyed a direct order, sacrificing himself to save his best friend. Since then, Captain Grant Rowen rules his ship with an iron fist, demanding strict compliance from all aboard.

Coffers are low, and when a lone woman requests passage to St. Thomas, Captain Rowen accepts her payment. But the stormy sea crossing holds more than just nature's surprises.

Aurora Journade reveals that she not only speaks to spirits, she makes love to them --and she doesn't follow orders. With Aurora's help, Cade has one last chance to reach out to his captain. Not even death can keep them from seeking passion's redemption.

 

EXCERPT

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

"Yes... no... Oh God, how you touch me, my love. But what if someone should see us? We shouldn't do this here." The female voice coming from the dark alley quivered, ripe with passion.

Grant couldn't hear her companion's murmured reply, but from her enthusiastic cries it must have been to her liking.

He continued toward the tavern, almost late for a meeting. The repairs to his ship had taken longer than he'd anticipated. Noise and smoke rolled out into the street as Grant pushed open the scarred wooden door, spreading over him in a wave of stinking humanity. Squinting through the smoke and dim light, he made his way to the busy barkeep.

"I'm looking for a merchant named Crofton. Know him?"

The slight man behind the bar pointed toward the corner where most of the noise was coming from. "Aye, Linch is over there."

Grant squared his shoulders and strode toward the merchant. "Crofton? Captain Rowen of the Venture. Amory Talbot said to find you the next time I was in port."

The older, ruddy-faced man fixed his gaze on Grant. "Yes, my cousin has good things to say about you, Rowen. It's a pity about his son, though. The boy was your first mate, wasn't he? Sit down and we'll have a drink before we talk business." He motioned to the barmaid for another round.

"Thank you, sir. Yes, Cade was my first mate." Grant took a long pull on the foaming brew the barmaid set before him. "I'm told you're looking for a ship to do some regular cargo runs. The Venture is a fine vessel and I have an experienced crew. She's in port now if you'd like to look her over." He took another drink and choked back bittersweet memories. He hadn't visited Cade's home port since just after his death, but it had been the closest for needed repairs.

* * *

Breathing in the fresh night air, Grant closed the tavern door behind him. The promise of a full cargo hold and a regular run starting at the end of the week lifted his lagging spirits. He walked down the street, dust kicking up under his boots as he hummed a familiar tune, one that his best friend Cade had often whistled.

A flash of red silk coming out of the alley was the only warning he received before he was knocked on his ass by a voluptuous female body. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, her bountiful breasts flattening on his chest. The heady scent of aroused woman rose from her and his cock stiffened instantly.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir! I wasn't looking where I was going." She scrambled up and rushed off, leaving him with an aching cock and the impression of long, dark passion-rustled hair, haunting gypsy eyes, and a body made for love.

"My pleasure, miss." He readjusted his erection and stared after the little minx. He hadn't had a woman in a while, but the insistent desire pulsing in his cock from the unexpected tousle rekindled his interest. As he boarded his ship and took over the watch, he decided it might be time to see if the brothel in the next port was still in business.

* * *

"Please, I must speak with the captain." Grant spied the woman rushing up the wooden gangplank past one of his crewmen, almost tripping in her haste. Though dressed well, she had no bags and no servants.

"I'm Captain Rowen, miss." He extended a hand to help her onto the deck and a thrill of awareness ran through him at the touch of her hand. It was the woman who had run him over last night. Her beautiful black hair was confined in an intricate knot, now, and the lush figure that had intrigued him was caged behind a corseted gown. He much preferred the unrestrained seductress of the night before.

She glanced up and her eyes widened with recognition and interest. Grant smiled, sensing sexual adventure in the wind. As any good sailor, he listened to the wind when it spoke to him.

"I am Miss Journade. I need immediate passage to St. Thomas, captain." She fidgeted nervously but didn't let go of his hand or drop her gaze.

"I'm afraid most of my crew is ashore on leave, miss. You'll have to wait until they return before we can set sail."

"It is important that I depart this afternoon, Captain Rowen. I can pay you well. I am meeting a... a friend and his time is very limited. Please, sir, I will give you whatever you want." She stepped forward and laid her hand on his chest, her fingers curling against the cloth. Could she feel his heart pounding with desire?

Grant weighed his options, measuring his empty coffers and skeleton crew against the delicious temptation of the woman and her money. Normally he would have refused, as would most captains. Women on ships were considered bad luck, and a woman without an escort could be nothing but trouble.

Still, the passage to St. Thomas was generally an easy one and they needed gold after the recent repairs. He'd risk the journey and try to find an acceptable chaperone in town while he rounded up as much of his crew as he could find.

"Welcome aboard the Venture, Miss Journade." He motioned toward a young boy standing in the shadows. "Remy, please show Miss Journade to the passenger's quarters. I'll be in town rounding up the crew. We set sail on my return."

 

About the Author

Cassidy lives in the beautiful state of Washington and is surrounded by mysterious rain forests, tempestuous oceans and enough gorgeous scenery to inspire stories for at least another two hundred years.

She's been reading romances since she was thirteen, and writing them since she was fifteen. However, the serious writing bug didn't bite until much later in life, inspired by her talented husband (who is also a writer!).

 

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

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Rowan's Lovers Teaser #rabtbooktours

Action Adventure Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: May 29, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

Rowan has a bounty on her head. Will her lovers get to her before a bounty hunter can collect the reward?

 

Rebellious slave Rowan is heading for the walled city of Iseky to find her lovers Ky and Chin Lau. She also need to discover who wiped her memories and why. Soldier of fortune Kepel Dev is forced to hunt her by any means necessary.

When Ky rushes to Iseky to try to find Rowan, he meets the flirtatious Hetta along the way. Meanwhile Chin Lau has escaped the Skolls and their new leader, Tamin Gutra, but on his way to find Rowan he falls into the hands of cannibals.

Little do they know slave master Ganwe din Kopese holds the key to all their futures.

 

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

 

EXCERPT

 

Ganwe din Kopese, known variously as Gan or Kop or Din the Slave Master, surfaced from a pleasant dream soon after sunrise. He’d been led into the desert by a troupe of naked slaves to an idyllic oasis where they frolicked in the sparkling water, the sun gleaming off their flawless skin. Under a swaying palm, strenuous digging uncovered a huge wooden chest of great antiquity. They’d opened it, lifting the creaking lid to expose a veritable king’s ransom. Excitedly they scooped up the glistening gems -- diamonds, rubies, sapphires -- and gaily tossed them into the air so they fell upon his head like the gentlest of summer rain.

Ganwe din Kopese awoke not only with a contented smile, but also a mighty erection. He surveyed the prominent tent in the silk sheet and grunted in self-admiration. “Seesee!” he bellowed.

A moment later his wife, third and youngest bearer of that majestic title, ran full tilt into his room, the folds of her transparent nightdress flowing about her petite body like a desert whirlwind.

“See to that, will you,” he said casually.

Seesee eagerly lifted the sheet, exposing his firm muscular body, and dove in. For a few moments he luxuriated in her warm, wet mouth. “Litu,” he then shouted. “I’m starving!”

From somewhere below -- the kitchen he hoped -- came an unintelligible reply from the second bearer of that esteemed title of wife. Gan imagined she was instructing the slaves in the preparation of some delicacy or other. Litu, he knew, kept a diligent eye on the latest culinary fashions shed like confetti by their betters up north. In the adjoining room a baby wailed, and was soon comforted by Didoy, the first bearer of the revered title of wife, who hummed a soothing rhyme from her childhood.

The house of Kopese had awakened.

Gan lay back, enjoying Seesee’s skills, noting that her technique had improved since Didoy’s lesson in the Quad: the art of pleasing a man with lips, tongue, throat, and fingers. She had finally mastered the timing of the twist of the shaft as she withdrew her mouth from his swollen organ before plunging downward so that her dainty nose was bent against his hard, muscular stomach. She held there for a count of five before slowly withdrawing. As she drew her mouth away, she wrapped her dainty fingers around his shaft to apply the screwing action that gave him an inordinate amount of pleasure. He sighed with satisfaction as the dream of buried jewels faded like a summer mist.

Litu, wearing a flimsy robe shaded in jade, entered with a tray. The smell of freshly baked bread, melting ocyx butter, strips of seasoned meat, and her sweet perfume caressed his nostrils. Balancing the tray expertly on one hand, she used the other to put an extra pillow under Gan’s raised head and shoulders. Then she swept off the sheet, positioned the tray on his flat belly. Seesee adjusted her position so she could tongue his ball sac while Litu knelt beside him to take on the shaft and head duties while he ate.

Gan watched appreciatively as his second wife opened her small, bow-shaped mouth as wide as she could to take in the thick head of his cock. He thought of it as the dome of a massive mushroom, and was secretly pleased that it posed a constant challenge to Litu, who eagerly strove to fit it all in. He took a generous bite of his bread, sending ocyx butter dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He almost bit his tongue when Seesee suddenly sucked one of his balls deep into her mouth.

“Easy, Seesee. Easy.”

“My apologies, husband,” she slurred after popping the delicate egg from between her generous lips. A shiny thread of saliva hung between her mouth and his tight scrotum, and with a giggle she slurped it up as she resumed her wifely duty.

Gan smiled contentedly. What a perfect household I have built, he thought. Three perfect gems, for that was how he often thought of his wives, to cater to my every urge.

He finished his breakfast with a cup of warm wine flavoured with huj, an expensive spice he imported from the Northern Reach. The slaves from that region carried the bales of the crushed seeds on their heads as they trudged their way to the Auction House.

That reminded him of this day’s tasks: the bidding for docile but intelligent slaves who could be taught. The House of Kopese was known across the world for the quality of his bedroom and household slaves. “Only the best from Kopese,” was his watchword, and all the prestigious houses of the city came to him. He excelled in teaching the art of pleasing men and women of refinement, and his slaves were keenly sought after, garnering top prices.

“Enough, Seesee, Litu. Enough, I say. I need all my stamina today.” He laughed at his unintended rhyme.

His two wives, however, pouted. Though they knew the demands of his day and evening, they didn’t like being denied their morning coupling.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not the end of the world.”

“It is,” Seesee said. “It’s been a whole week.”

“Has it?”

“You know it has. My cunny is aching. It’s wet all the time.” She screwed up her face. “You don’t love me as much as Litu.”

“Now, don’t be like that. I love you all the same. Didoy, Litu, and Seesee. All the same.”

“But you’ve had Litu three times in the last four nights.”

“I wish you wouldn’t keep count,” Litu said. “It’s not my fault --”

“Litu. Stop it!” Gan snapped. “Just this minute I was congratulating myself on such a harmonious household, and you go and spoil it by bickering.”

“I’m sorry, husband.”

“Now, Seesee. Remind me when I come home that it is your turn. Happy?” She smiled at Litu triumphantly. Shaking his head good-naturedly he chucked his pretty wife under her chin. “Now, is my bath ready?”

“I’d just ordered the heating of the water when you called,” Seesee said.

“Then go. See that it is ready for me.”

She stuck out her tongue at Litu and launched herself off the bed. After she’d skipped from the room, Gan took Litu’s hand and drew her to him for a kiss. She licked the ocyx butter from his chin.

“How old is she? Remind me.”

“Twenty.”

“And how old are you?”

“Two and twenty.”

“Then don’t goad her. Act your age.”

She pouted again.

“Has it really been three times in four nights?”

She nodded, and a sly smile escaped her contrite expression.

“There must be a reason for that,” he said in a questioning voice. “I wonder what the reason could be.”

“Because…”

He silenced her with a kiss. “I love you all the same. Remember that.”

“Yes, husband.”

“Now take this tray to the kitchen, and then go help Didoy with the children.”

“Yes, husband.”

“First, find my robe. It’s a bit chilly this morning. And my slippers. Where are my slippers?”

An hour later, bathed, perfumed, and dressed in his finest, Gan was farewelled by Didoy, who handed him his ebony staff as she did every day.

He kissed her, then stood back in silent admiration of her beauty, and his luck.

“You do this every morning,” she chided.

Her face was colouring in a blush fit for a maiden, not of a wife of ten years with three children and a household to manage. “I stop to thank the gods for the blessing they have bestowed on me. Is that so grievous a crime?”

“Being late will be a very great one if you miss bidding on the best prospects. The High Warden put in an order for six, no less: four cocks and two cunts.”

“Where would I be without you, I wonder.” He kissed her again. “Six, you say? What in the world does he do with them?”

 

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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Para Schooled Teaser #rabtbooktours

LGBTQ+ Shifter Romance

Date Published: March 27, 2026

In every relationship, there’s always a choice. Choosing wrong may cost these heroes everything.

 

Werewolf’s Choice (Para Schooled 1)

Werewolf society has little tolerance for a lone wolf like Don, a man with a complicated past. It’s hard for him to learn to trust, yet pack life calls to his wolf nature. When two basilisks offer a chance at romance, Don refuses to accept anything more than a physical relationship. Will his stubbornness get him and his new partners killed?

 

Dark’s Lover (Para Schooled 2)

When Blagden, a Night Wanderer-Singer, meets Caleb, he is drawn to the Grand Fae’s struggle to accept his new life. Caleb’s son is blind and the Grand Fae have cast out all disabled children. But Blagden has a terrible secret. He inadvertently steals energy from those he loves. When SearchLight is attacked, Blagden must choose between the Fae he loves and his resolve never to steal energy again.

 

Kaito’s Silence (Para Schooled 3)

Kaito has always been attracted to werewolves of the opposite gender -- until he meets his new sign language tutor, a flamboyant wolf named Stefan. As Kaito struggles with his own sexuality, Stefan starts to feel like an experiment. Can their love thrive or will Kaito’s indecision push them apart?

EXCERPT

from Werewolf's Choice

For Don Sanderson, disabled werewolf, life couldn’t have been better.

He was three thousand miles from the pushy alpha werewolves of Washington, DC. He was starting a new job. And life was just great in general. He’d always wanted to travel and thought he’d never get the chance.

Mostly because of his wheelchair.

But here he was, rolling across the parking lot toward the carefully concealed entrance to the SearchLight Academy campus in California. It was early March and the whole of Death Valley was awash in wildflowers. The perfume in the air was glorious and he’d never felt so glad to be alive.

Well, all right, that was laying it on a bit thick. He recognized his desire, as a therapist, to be healthy and positive in his daily thoughts. This wasn’t perfect because Timothy wasn’t with him. Timothy, damn him, was gone.

Don paused to survey the flowers that crowded right up to the edge of the parking lot. He smiled. Come May or June, there wouldn’t be any flowers. The heat baking off the pavement could fry an egg. Or maybe even melt his tires. But for now, he was content to park outside instead of in the garage. He’d never thought to see Death Valley and get to celebrate its beauty.

Hell, he’d often thought he’d be under the flowers instead of surveying them. Werewolf culture had little tolerance for a lone wolf, and yet they didn’t want him to be part of a pack either. Disabled in more ways than one, he wasn’t desirable. Yet, they couldn’t just leave him be because “lone wolves are dangerous, ravenous beasts and separated from society, they often go insane.”

He’d been raised on that truth, but he wasn’t insane. He had a pack, of sorts. He had SearchLight. It wasn’t the same, and he knew it. Being in a wolf pack, surrounded by your kind, was like being given a drink of water after days of thirst. There was something that called to a wolf’s soul when it came to pack living. But Don had been nicknamed. His full name was Donald. Nicknaming was disrespectful, and he’d been ostracized. No one wanted him.

Well, maybe dead, they wanted him. But only SearchLight could use his talents as he was now: a therapist capable of helping others heal.

He entered the hidden passage, taking the gentle slope down toward the heart of SearchLight’s new campus for students of all ages. There had originally been only one SearchLight campus, in Washington, DC. Now there was this second campus, in the Mojave Desert, shielded from humans and dangerous magical creatures alike.

He traveled through the whispering silence and smiled when the almost creepy stillness was broken by laughter. This place was so new everything practically squeaked. There weren’t any security officers here, not until June, and only some of the professors had reported. He was supplemental staff, and technically he didn’t have to be here until April first, but he’d been so very glad to get out of DC…

There was housing here, as there wasn’t in the nation’s capital. Being all underground and far from usual human habitation, it was easier to have apartments here than in the Panamint Mountains, which were relatively nearby. Soon, Don would be hiding his car inside because he wouldn’t be going anywhere. But today was his first day and he’d longed to be outside with the fifty other cars.

They were hidden from standard human perception by leprechauns magic and other concealment spells, but right now, the parking lot was simply another place for anyone to leave their vehicle because the whole national park was open to visitors. Hiding in plain sight was SearchLight’s favorite trick.

It was still early, barely eight o’clock. He wheeled his way down to the cafeteria, following the signs, and thinking that he’d love to have breakfast in his own apartment. Even well-prepared food, when it was mass-produced, tasted nothing like home cooking.

When he was finally in the cafeteria, he balanced a tray on his lap and rolled through the line. He was aware of people looking at him but that was okay. His right leg ended just below his knee. It was normal for people to steal little glances in his direction. He had two psychic senses even though most LGBTQ werewolves only had one. He could always tell when he was being watched, particularly with negative intent, and he was a telekinetic. He could have rolled along with the tray floating an inch or two off his lap, but why show off? He drew plenty of attention without that.

Reaching a table that was specially designed to allow a wheelchair to roll underneath, he smiled. He was one of two wheelchair-bound staff, and there might be students coming in with similar disabilities. Since Dr. Sowerby’s decree, two years gone, that all SearchLight Academy buildings must be ADA compliant, more and more disabled magical creatures had flocked to the school designed for, and catering to, magical creatures.

“Do you mind if we join you?”

He glanced up as he set his tray on the table. It was a female who had spoken, a female basilisk, and he rapidly searched through the list of names he kept in his head. He didn’t know all of the faculty at the SearchLight Academy back East, but he thought… “Ms. Vaughn?”

She blinked beautiful golden-brown eyes at him. “We’ve never met. How do you know my name?”

“I’ve had students mention your classes.”

“That’s impossible,” she returned as she and the male basilisk with her sat down. “I’m not a teacher yet. This fall will be my first term.”

Confused, he ventured, “Aren’t you the languages expert, Ms. Susan Vaughn?”

Her companion chuckled. “Now I understand,” he said. “No, Susan is my sister. I’m Xavier Vaughn and this is my wife, Cassidy.” He briefly touched a light chain around his neck when he spoke.

Cassidy Vaughn smiled at her husband. Then she returned her attention to Don. “And you are?”

He hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to share his name but because he didn’t know how they would react to his nickname. He’d been known as “Don, the psychic wolf.” He’d been called deformed, not just because of his leg but because of his other disability and his status as a bisexual wolf.

“You’re the therapist, I think,” Xavier said. “I’ve seen you around the DC campus a couple of times.” He seemed to want to give Don a little more time because he continued. “I was filling in for Professor Boyle last fall when he took off time to write a book.”

“You were teaching parapsychology?” Don frowned slightly. “I’m sorry -- if I should remember you, I don’t.”

Xavier chuckled. “I have a way of fading into the background. It’s one of my psychic talents.”

Cassidy leaned forward and took a sip of her coffee. “What’s your name?”

Oh, to hell with it. Damned be all the stereotypes that went with a werewolf being given a nickname instead of his full born-with identifier. “I’m Don Sanderson. You’re right, I’m the head therapist here in Death Valley. I used to work off campus at the Healing House where attack victims and bullies alike were sent to recover and change their ways. I’ve only visited the campus twice…” Then he realized where Xavier might have seen him. “I gave a lecture on bullying behavior to all the professors and staff last fall.”

“That must be where I saw you.”

Something in Xavier’s reply made Don raise his eyebrows. But the male basilisk didn’t respond to the questioning look.

Cassidy was toying with a little key on a bracelet. She had a pleased smile on her face. Don turned his questioning look on her.

“Nothing,” she answered his glance. But she took Xavier’s hand and smiled at her husband as if they had a secret.

A rush of jealousy rushed through Don in that moment. He wanted so badly to be looked at in that way, where he held enigmas with a lover. He wished briefly that these two beautiful people were looking for a third...

 

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.

 

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Their Reluctant Mate Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

This post contains material suitable only for readers 18+.

Dark Romance, Shifter Romance

Date Published: January 24, 2025

 

They tamed her in public. They'll claim and share her in private.

 

Within moments of being given as a mate to three fearsome shifters, Lexie was stripped bare, spanked for her defiance, and then brought to a shameful climax with their whole village watching.

But as she's carried off with her punished ass still sore inside and out, it's not what these savage beasts did to her in public that's on her mind.

It's what they're going to do to her once they have her all to themselves.

 

Publisher's Note: Their Reluctant Mate is a stand-alone romance which is the first book in the Rydarian Mates series. It includes spankings and rough, intense sexual scenes. If such material offends you, this might not be the book for you.

About the Author

 

Ivy writes sci-fi and paranormal erotica with strong romantic themes. She lives in beautiful Boulder, Colorado and enjoys hearing from readers. Contact her through her website. ivybarrett.com

 

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Party Animal Teaser #rabtbooktours

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

Contemporary Gay Romance, Polyamorous

Date Published: August 8, 2025

Casey can get just about any man he wants, except for the one he wants the most.

Casey Cox is a porn star legend. Life is a never-ending party and there's always a hot guy or two willing to play. Then Casey meets the one man who isn't interested and suddenly it's a challenge he can't resist.

ADULT EXCERPT

 

“Suck me tender.”

“Hey dumbass, I’m the boss here. If you didn’t have a big shlong, you wouldn’t get any screen time.”

I picked up the towel and covered up my biggest asset. “Jealous much?”

Max looked like he was ready to blow steam but he clenched his jaw and nodded toward the king-sized bed. It was all decked out in white linen, the better to show off our tanned bodies. “I want you and Joey to do a fast run through, no sex, before we start filming.”

“Time is money,” I said, throwing his own words back at him. “I don’t need to rehearse.”

“Says you. Did you even read the script?”

“Course I did. Masturbate first, and then Joey walks in and gives me a hand. It’s not rocket science.” It was an easy scene. I could do it in my sleep. I never have a problem getting hard, especially when I know somebody’s watching.

“Okay Mr. Motherfucking-Know-It-All, do your thing.”

I sat on the bed and leaned back against the headboard.

Max spit out one word. “Action.”

I started rubbing my cock through the material of the towel. After a minute, I flung open the towel and let my dick take a bow. It was stiff and begging for attention but I ignored it. Slowly I ran my hands down my chest, tweaking my nipples until they were erect. It didn’t take long. My hot buttons are super sensitive. A delicious warmth spread through my groin. It was time to give my prick some attention. I gave it a few easy strokes, taking my time so I could show off my body. Occasionally I glanced at the camera with a smoldering gaze. Then I started jerking off in a steady rhythm.

Nobody knows my hot spots like I do. It didn’t take long for my breathing to speed up. My balls drew up tight and I knew I was close. Where the heck was Joey? He should have been here by now. I wanted to give him a cum shower. Max was a shit director. One day I’d direct my own films. I tried to hold off, but my cock was throbbing. Fuck it. I was too close. One more hard stroke and I hosed myself down with a massive cum load.

White cream covered my chest, up to my neck and under my chin. I groaned, scooped some up with my fingers and licked them clean. I knew I looked hot as hell.

“Cut!” Max stood over me, hands on hips. “I tell you when to come.”

“You can’t hold back momentum, Max.” One of these days I’ll quit mouthing off, but not today. “If you could get it up, you’d know that.”

If looks could kill I would have died right then, but Max couldn’t touch me. I was golden. Nobody made the studio more money than I did.

“Face it, Max. I know what my audience wants and I give it to them. That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

“Get over yourself, princess. You’re a fucking porn actor. There’s a thousand more waiting to take your place.”

As usual, Paul, the cameraman and peacemaker, tried to diffuse the situation. “This is good stuff, Max. The guys will eat it up.”

Max gave him a disgusted look and turned back to me. “You got anything left for Joey?”

“Does a tin man have a stainless steel cock?”

Everybody laughed except Max. Fuck him. He turned his back, but not before he took another long look at my chest. I smiled as I lay back against the pillows. Look all you want, Max, but you’ll never get your hands on this body. But I knew he’d take the film home and masturbate to it all night.

“Hey, Cox.”

My head jerked up at the sound of Joey’s voice. People tend to think that porn stars don’t have real lives. They think that, given the nature of what we do for a living, we must be emotionally detached and incapable of having a real relationship. That’s only partly true. While I don’t have, need, or want, a significant other, I have my sister, Julie, and my best friends, Joey and Paul.

Joey is not only a friend, he’s also a great costar. He’s a lean six feet, with short spiky blond hair and brown eyes. The dude is practically hairless while I sport a sexy trail of dark hair that leads to a well-manicured bush. The camera loves the contrasts between us, and so do the guys who buy our videos. We spend so much time together, it was only natural we’d become buddies.

Grinning, Joey sat on the bed. “You just can’t help yourself, can you, Casey?” He started wiping my chest with a warm, wet cloth.

 

About the Author

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

 

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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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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.

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Wild Ones New Release Blitz #IndiGo

Title: Wild Ones

Author: Zoey Daniels

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Futuristic, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Sci-Fi , Suspense, Wildest West

Themes: Age Gap (Older Woman), Alien Encounters, Bisexual, Multisexual, & Pansexual, Multiple Partners, Shapeshifters, Werewolves & Wolf Shifters

Series: Wild Ones (#5)

Book Length: Box Set

Page Count: 167

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Four women choose to homestead on lunar colony Leman in search of new beginnings. They're in for a wild ride!

A pair of shapeshifting wolves have adopted Lainey's new farm on the agri-moon Leman as their home. Though wild, winning their favor is considered lucky. They have a sense of sexuality that other women would pay anything to taste. And they've chosen her. Lainey's not crying wolf. She's crying "God, yes, harder!"

Bold, independent, and free, Callie's worked hard to become the best courier on Leman. And she's not the only one to notice. Two stallions shadow her every move. They may be young, but these native shapeshifters are as adventurous as Callie, and they're set on proving they're old enough to handle her.

Some folks are victims. Some are survivors. Delia's not sure she believes the stories about Leman's beasts, animals who can take on man shape. But they believe in her -- and in what they've scented waiting under the armor she's plated around her heart. These two great cats plan to show their human cougar how much they appreciate what they see.

Rosemary, unofficial guardian of Leman, has waited -- patiently, and not so patiently -- in fierce hope of one day drawing the attention of the agri-moon's strange and wonderful animals who become men. But after her fortieth birthday, she's begun to doubt her dreams, and let her hopes drift away. Until, that is, she finds herself receiving an unexpected visitor. The first, in fact, of three...

Publisher's Note: This box setcontains the previously released novellas Prowl, Wild Horses, Purr, and Who? in the Wild Ones series.

Excerpt

Wild Ones (Box Set)
Zoey Daniels
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Zoey Daniels
Excerpt from Prowl

Lainey closed her eyes and lifted her face toward the sun. Had any sun on any world ever felt so fine? She thought not. Leman's sun caressed her skin as gently as an accomplished lover, but it was no weakling. Its rays burnished the world brown, carried forward over fields of gold in heated breaths of wind that reminded her of hot kisses traced down her body.

A fine world to live in. She'd like it here.

"It hits us all that way at first," Rosemary remarked. Lainey could hear the smile in her voice. "Don't ever get used to it. Then it'll lose most of its charm."

Lainey let her eyes drift open and let out a soft breath of satiated desires. She gazed across the gold and brown of the fields and unpaved roads, the green tops of trees already afire with the reds and golds of autumn. It was only natural to take her hat off and rest it not over her heart, but her hip, as a woman of her professional background might in a sign of respect.

"I don't ever plan to take this for granted," she said. She wished she could strip naked in the sensual warmth of this world and stretch herself out in the grass to let it saturate her through and through.

Rosemary chuckled; she had an infectious laugh and she was around the same age as Lainey. They'd probably led the same kinds of lives before they came here, to the world no man wanted and every woman dreamed of. Any woman with any sense, that was.

"Good," Rosemary said. "Let me check once more to be sure..." Proprietress of the small mercantile that was the only place one could buy supplies without traveling a few hundred kilometers in any direction -- not that that bothered Lainey -- she indicated they should get back to business by removing the stylus she'd tucked behind her ear and pointing it at her digital slate.

Lainey knew as well as Rosemary what she'd need and wouldn't need and that she hadn't forgotten a single thing on that list, but no harm in letting the woman do her job. She stood by with her hat at her hip, half-daydreaming through the double-check. "I have gold, not credits," she reminded Rosemary.

"Good. Gold spends; credits are almost worthless out here." Rosemary patted the side of the wagon. "Right, then. I'll go total up your bill."

Politeness, that. Lainey watched Rosemary retreat inside the mercantile and approved of it. She'd have the bill already totted up on her tablet, of course, but it would have been bad manners indeed to stand by and watch a lady retrieve her money from its hiding place. Even if she likely already knew where that'd be after packing the sturdy farm wagon with everything from seeds to vegetable growth supplements to pitchforks and a tin washtub big enough for Lainey to stretch out in.

Homesteading on a new frontier or not, Lainey was stubborn enough and fond enough of her few creature comforts that she'd no plans to give up any time soon.

Though Lainey liked Rosemary just fine, she was glad enough to have the peace and quiet back to herself for a moment. She extended her arms wide, as if she'd embrace the heat from the sun, and let the golden light wash down over her, better than rain.

A slight scuffing sound broke the silence that'd fallen. Not much of a noise, but Lainey's ears were sharp and some training lasted throughout a lifetime. She could tell even without looking that whoever had come visiting wasn't Rosemary, nor any of the other women settlers she had a nodding acquaintance with.

No, this was a Man. Lainey could smell the musk, wilder than most of the polished rich boys she'd dealt with once as mistress and madam in turn, before selling off all that hubris and heading out here to make her way, by her choice.

Not just a man, Lainey's senses told her. A strong man, one who walked with the confidence of a fellow who had no fear of anything, but who stopped far enough away to show her he meant no harm. And -- she cocked her head, intrigued -- another man, not far behind him.

She wasn't afraid of them; they'd given her no reason. Lainey let her eyes drift open and got her first look at this pair from between the sweeping curtain of her eyelashes.

Oh my. Lainey's skin heated from more than the baking warmth of the planet. These were a fine pair to look at, weren't they? One tall and rangy, dark hair clinging to his forehead, cheeks and nape; the other slighter and fairer and springier of step. Both had smiles broad and white enough to rival the sun and the moons, and stood close enough to reach out and touch if she wanted. Teasing her, just a little, by being that close and no closer.

There were no men this far West, not that Lainey knew of. Some fishermen still lived along the coastlines, but not one man who'd come inland to ranch or farm had managed to stay. Bully boys, most of those, or so she'd heard, and it seemed like the land had taken objection to them. Might be a story made up to scare folks, might not be, but for whatever reason, the men had left these prime ranch lands. Left them for women fool enough to try to tame them. And try they had. Leman liked women. Liked them fine. Her sun and moons were kind to the ladies, and they treated her as best as they could in return.

But one look at this pair and Lainey knew down in her gut that while this planet might be kind to the female strangers who'd colonized her... it loved these men without rhyme or reason. They were the sun and moons, somehow.

Lainey couldn't help smiling at that pair. Five seconds' worth of acquaintance or not, they brought it out in her. "Now if you aren't a treat," she said. "Something I can help you with?"

The men glanced at one another, communicating silently in the way long-time friends sometimes developed. A quirk of the eyebrow and the tilt of a wicked grin spoke volumes.

Laughing, the taller jostled the smaller aside. He had a strange laugh, one that made Lainey sit up and take notice. Something between a rumble and a ruff, ruff, ruff. Not unpleasant to hear, Lord no. Quite the contrary. Gave her a pleasant sensation of warmth in her belly not unlike the sun on her skin. It belonged here, same as they did even if they weren't supposed to.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"Need help?" the taller asked, gesturing toward Lainey's loaded wagon. "I Asher. No. I... am, yes, I am Asher. He is Russ. You have long road back to cabin. We help you."

Lainey's eyebrows lifted, despite her years of training. Not supposed to be here and didn't speak the language? Call her intrigued, yes ma'am.

And... they knew where she lived. Lainey figured she ought to be more alarmed about that, but so help her, she couldn't be. She didn't believe these two would hurt her, but if they tried? She had a rifle in the wagon, and she knew how to use it.

The taller took one half-step closer, his shorter companion jostling him in play as he followed. "Help with more than this," the tall man murmured. He reached to touch her face, taking clear care not to startle her but not about to be denied. His fingertips were rough, as tough as paw pads, but his touch was gentle. Almost worshipful.

Lainey's lips parted. So help her if she didn't want to promise them anything for the pleasure of their company. It made her laugh. The shoe was on the other foot now, wasn't it? Good thing for her she liked the fit of it just fine.

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Meet the Author

Zoey Daniels likes strong women, equally strong men, and faraway worlds filled with sci-fi cowboys and alpha shapeshifters. She also loves older woman/younger men. Yum, yum. Come enjoy!

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