Showing posts with label sci-fi fantasy romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sci-fi fantasy romance. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 9, 2026

Pridelands Teaser #rabtbooktours



An LGBTQ+ Sci-Fi Paranormal Action Romance

Date Published: June 12, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press



Stranded... on Earth. Thrust together by fate, can these offworlders find a way to connect?


The Pridelands 1: Darren’s Surprise
Darren is looking for his brother, but he ends up finding something a little more alien. Durai has come to claim his mate. He won’t let anything get in his way. Not even Darren.

The Pridelands 2: Zula’s Stand
Jai realizes he’s found two people that complete him. Only, one wants nothing to do with him, and the other claims he’s only interested in women.

The Pridelands 3: Sheer’s Choice
Jai’s sister, Rabi’a, isn’t going to sit down and let any man determine her future. She has claws of her own, and Tigris Sheer Ma’at and Leo Rais Steinsson are about to feel them.

The Pridelands 4: Griffin’s Joy
Griffin and Mazin have finally found a woman who completes them both. All they have to do is seduce her. Easy, right? Not if Joy has her way.

The Pridelands 5: Khalid’s Challenge
Khalid Steinsson and Pran Devan were once deeply in love. It will take something monumental to bring them back together.

The Pridelands 6: Achan’s Peace
Achan’s nightmares won’t let him move forward. Hunter Miles needs to be able to express his love for Achan. Tafa Morn never expected to find two wounded souls that needed his particular brand of care. Now that he has, he doesn’t plan to let them go.


Publisher's Note: The Pridelands Box Set contains the previously released novellas Darren's Surprise, Zula's Stand, Sheer's Choice, Griffin's Joy, Khalid's Challenge, and Achan's Peace.

 

Excerpt from Darren's Surprise
Copyright ©2026 Jade Buchanan


Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, he surveyed the loft. A bunk bed was sidled up against the wall beside him. A single bedside table was arranged on the side closest to the stairs, nestled between the dresser and the bed. A large area rug was the only decoration in the middle of the room. Across from it, a very small double bed was set up, the covers strewn about as if a wild animal had slept there the night before.

He tensed, spying the results of his late night.

Sheets of formerly white paper littered the floor. Sketches covered the three walls. It appeared as if he'd gone on some drawing binge last night.

Picking up one piece of paper, he studied the drawing. Anthropomorphic cats sprawled along the page. A head here, a hand there, a full body just barely traced out.

The next sheet he picked up had the same theme as the first. On this one he'd focused on an ear, the pointed tip, the hint of fur shading the delicate slope. He'd drawn the ear from the front and back and every other angle he could possibly imagine.

The next sheet portrayed various tails, some rough and some more detailed. There was one covered in crescent shaped spots, and another that had a hint of stripes.

Every sheet he picked up had the same theme. He'd even used up several sheets just drawing eyes. The corners tilted up in amusement, narrowed with heat, wide with surprise.

Turning his attention to the walls, he realized he'd gone into even more detail here. A planet was stretched above his dad's bed, hints of trees and mountains sketched out in minute detail. Around the planet, he'd obviously started and halted several prototypes, because small shadows of round globes circled the larger shape.

He had no idea where he'd gotten this inspiration from, but he wasn't going to complain. It was some of his best work recently. Apparently he only needed to come out to Bumfuck, Nowhere, to get plenty of material for his next project.

The bunk bed wall and the wall by the stairs were covered with various drawings, some of his past work that had been up for years. He'd done that over a decade ago. It'd been so long he barely noticed it anymore.

Darren scratched his belly, looking down at his chest covered only by the freckles he'd cursed since junior high. He was barefoot, his feet peeking out from under the worn and faded jeans. They were a size too large on him -- courtesy of his rebellious teenage years when he'd been in love with a certain rapper/male model. God, that man was gorgeous. Darren sighed in remembrance. He'd jacked off on more than one occasion to pictures of the underwear model.

Hell, at least his own tighty-whiteys weren't showing above the waistband. Come to think of it, he wasn't wearing underwear. His pants were in danger of falling completely off, hanging precariously from his narrow hips. Darren sniffed, trying to remember when he'd last had clean clothes. The jeans he'd originally found in a forgotten cupboard set along the wall beside the stairs. He hadn't realized he'd left clothes behind but he was grateful for it when his previous jeans just about stood up and demanded to be washed.

Making his way down the stairs into the main room of the cabin, he looked around to see what kind of trouble he'd gotten into out here. His dad was going to tear a strip off him. He was still mad about the two walls in the loft, and Darren had done that in his teens.

Directly across from him were more anthropomorphic cats, drawn up and around the front door. Hell, he'd even drawn on the back of the door itself. He was so screwed when his dad saw this.

Cats of every species… some covered in stripes, some in spots, some furry with tufts of fur along their cheeks. The majority of them resembled lions, though, sleek and beautiful cats. With one single big cat front and center dwarfing the others.

Make that cat men, since every one of them was anatomically correct, especially the large lion creature in the center of the wall. He blinked, impressed despite himself. He'd definitely been more than generous when he'd been shading in the cats' nether regions. Good on him, it'd obviously been way too long since he'd been laid.

No way would he get away with that in a movie. Lordy, he still considered himself lucky every time he got a job on another film. The last thing he needed was for some bigwig to see this display and he'd be laughed out of Hollywood for being a perv.

Not that there weren't a fair share of pervs in Hollywood, but he prided himself on being above the rest of the riffraff.

He turned to view the wall to his left, behind the ragged couch. The two windows interrupted the mural, but it was still impressive.

A massive warship sat high within a galaxy of stars. He'd paid special attention to each constellation, meticulously drawing every tiny detail.

This was by far his best work.

The warship was shaded intricately with blue ink, each hatch set apart from the sleek lines of the ship. What appeared to be weapons stood out from the simple style of the rest of the craft, bulging along the sides and at the front. The entire top of the ship was open, the hint of glass reflecting back at him. Shapes were present behind the glass, but he couldn't quite make them out.

"Not bad," he murmured. "A race of alien beings inhabiting a large planet. A ship carrying space explorers from Earth crash lands. Suddenly the cat-like aliens take the humans prisoner, binding them and using them as slaves."

He snorted, laughing at himself.

"Yeah, sounds familiar. Planet of the Apes, anyone? Strike one for Darren. Although it wouldn't be too bad to be used as a sex slave by some of these big guys. Talk about wishful thinking."

 

About the Author

Jade's writing is as eclectic as her reading tastes, with over thirty five erotic romance stories currently published. She has been known to accept writing challenges from friends and family just to see their reactions. Jade is a firm believer that love and romance are universal concepts, no matter a person's gender identity or sexual orientation.

Originally from Northern Ontario, she's lived in British Columbia and the Sultanate of Oman in the Middle East. Jade currently lives in Calgary, Alberta where she's hard at work on her next story. Jade loves to hear from readers!



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

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Wednesday, May 13, 2026

Tales of the Quiet Kitty Teaser #rabtbooktours



Sci-Fi Fantasy Romance, LGBTQ+

Date Published: May 15, 2026



These futuristic sci-fi tales are anything but quiet.

Board the Quiet Kitty Waveship and travel with Brant Sel, a Sh'Bahkyr Tygyr and his crew: Bevel-leveB, a Medusoid Jenari with a sentient cock, and Willa, a Sprite from the wounded planet Sparkle.

Brought together by fate, these three have common goals -- to rescue and gather their lost peoples so they can take down the corrupt, brutal Corporation, run by the most evil beings in the three Galaxies... Humans.

Publisher's Note: This box setcontains the previously released Quiet Kitty novellas Under the Cat's Paw, Dancing with the Devil, Holiday Dreams, Naked Secrets, and Cat Scratch Fever.

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

 


EXCERPT

 

Excerpt from Under the Cat's Paw

The door opened and the sensor controlled walkway winked out beneath her weighted feet. Almost sorry to reach her destination -- she so rarely had a chance to see daylight -- Willa plodded heavily into the interview room, her small ankles locked into a pair of slaver's cuffs. Head down, neck bowed, she flicked her eyes about in quick, furtive forays, taking in the room's sparse furnishings: a six foot long cushioned slab and a straight-backed, armless chair. Noting the absence of tweezers, whips, electronic probes and other sadistic devices with a thankful sigh and a renewed sense of hope, she dared to sneak a quick glance at the room's other occupant, determined to somehow influence him to take her with him. A harsh, swift breath lifted her full breasts and set her covering plumes to fluttering.

Before her stood a grey-skinned bi-pedal Being lounging at ease, his long slender hands resting on the upper horizontal bar of a tall-backed chair. He faced her, his nude body -- tall, slim and muscular -- displaying a total lack of self-consciousness. A thick mop of unruly platinum hair waved in the brush of an unseen -- and unfelt -- breeze, falling over his forehead to obscure his sightless silver eyes. His mouth hung open, allowing a nineteen-centimeter tongue, coated with cilia, to protrude slightly.

She identified the Being as a Jenari. A member of a race powerful enough to stand up to the Corporation, his kind usually did not travel in Corporate Space. Jenari rarely mingled with other races, remaining a mystery rarely seen among the Corporation's citizenry. Because of this much speculation abounded regarding their peculiar genetic makeup.

She had heard enough about the genetically blind, Medusoid race to know the Jenari's tongues served as their true "eyes." With their tongues, they "tasted" the air, able to sense their environment more accurately than could most sighted persons.

Currently, the naked alien appeared nonchalant and relaxed. His posture broadcast his sense of control, his power over her in this private chamber, obviously unaware how easily that privacy -- his privacy -- had been breached. The so-called secure interrogation cubicle was anything but, her master having ordered it wired for video and sound, rendering it accessible and easily monitored by him.

The Jenari cocked his head toward her now, giving the impression of eyeing her askance, locating her so accurately, she almost doubted his sightlessness.

"Sso... you are Willa. Your masster tellss me he hass had you trained ass a SSexengineer... capable of keeping a Dinyar-classs Wavesship and a medium number of crew in tip-top orgassmic condition."

The male's sibilant words slid from his lips. He framed his sentences oddly, their cadence broken and rendered choppy by the repeated extrusion of his tongue. The cilia laden appendage darted out between every several words, sipping the air in her direction.

"You look much too fragile for ssuch sstrenuous work. A female of your delicassy sshould be cossseted and cared for... your cunt well conditioned with frequent usse... your ssweet cream churned with a long thick sspoon..."

Willa felt the Jenari's thick voice, his dulcet tones, flowing over her, calming her jangling nerves. Her pussy, long denied any easing, dewed in response to the pictures his words painted. A strong compulsion beat at her, making her want nothing so much as to loll at his feet in adoration.

Strange, how clear his words are, given that he speaks using that crowded appendage... Oh, Drasarka -- not so strange when he is attempting to mind-thrall me!

"Sparkle!"

With a negating shake of her head and an inward surge of disgust at the endless power-games of males, she threw up her mind blocks, easily winning free of the subliminal influence. Angered beyond thinking, she verbally blasted the alien, incensed he would try such a trick on her. "Your mind speak will not work on me, Jenari."

She tossed her head, meeting his renewed mental challenge with a sneer. "I am a Sprite. I cannot be compelled by your voice, nor can your honeyed words thrall me."

The alien's wide mouth spread in a practised movement that aped a smile. "You are a fressh ssassy baggage! I can ssee why your masster ssayss you invite beatingss, sslave!" His lips closed in a thin line, concealing his tongue.

She cringed, damning her mouth and her loss of self-control. By Sparkle! When would she learn to keep her comments to herself? What would she do if her unruly anger lost her this chance of escape?

It had taken too long to convince her master she truly wished to serve his plans by spying for him. She had spent the long, grueling years learning about ship propulsion units, drive flux capacitors and other diverse technical entities for just such a chance as this: escape. During that time, she'd swallowed her gorge and taken the physical abuse and so-called sexual cruelties Lord Avron had doled out, never letting on how his milder tortures ignited her carnal hungers. She'd only slipped up once, but that lapse had proven costly.

Avron had somehow learned she needed his release -- any partner's release -- inside her, needed the life-giving fluid of come washing the walls of her sex in order to flourish and grow a healthy set of pinions and fronds. Since that time, he'd kept her at the minimum edge of physical and psionic sexual starvation, taking pleasure in gauging what lengths she would go to, the degradations she would endure in order to receive a few drops of come.

Years of maneuvering, of posturing and subterfuge had paid off. Lately, unrest and political furor had escalated within the Corporation. Due to financial setbacks and personal miscalculations, Lord Avron had lost respect among his peers. The other Corporation Lords, like canker-phish -- more deadly than the great blalor-sharks of Trofu that devoured their own young -- hovered about, sniffing around his weakness, waiting for his failure. Her master had been forced to regroup, jettisoning some of his plans for advancement just to maintain his present lofty position among the powerful despots.

Unwilling to go outside his private power base to obtain help and whatever information he sought, it had been easy to convince him of her willingness to win the position as Sexengineer aboard the Quiet Kitty Waveship and garner information from its crew to transmit back to him. Why he had become obsessed with this vessel, she neither knew nor cared. All that concerned her lately was finding her scattered people. Sparkle called for her and its other children, its summons an imperative she could not ignore. Time was fast running out for her. If she messed this interview up, she knew Avron would kill her.

Belly roiling with resentment, she averted her face to hide her grimace and abased herself before the alien -- probably her last chance at freedom. "I offer apologies to you, Gentle-Being. I beg you to take no offence."

"Be at easse, Ssprite. I tesst all who sseek to sserve aboard my vesssel. No one sso eassily controlled iss welcomed aboard my Quiet Kitty. Let uss begin anew..."

One long arm extended palm up, in the manner of greeting peculiar to her slavers, the alien stepped from behind the chair, unerringly approaching Willa. "I am Bevel, masster of the Quiet Kitty Waveship."

She choked, eyes riveted in desperate immediate hunger to his newly revealed sex. Obviously, her information loop had seriously failed to include some pertinent data...

Standing before her, hands extended, awaiting her acknowledgement of his greeting, the alien was an impressive sight. Or rather, the impressive sight was his more than ten inch penis swaying lazily between his grey muscular thighs. A darker grey than the rest of his skin, the Medusoid cock undulated back and forth, its serpent-like moves hypnotic, compelling, drawing her fascinated gaze.

 


About the Author

A funny thing happened on the way to the grave... In 2006, Cammy was diagnosed with Pulmonary Sarcoidosis and given two weeks to live. She promptly discharged herself AMA -- Against Medical Advice -- since, as she stubbornly informed her doctors, she could die at home far more comfortably than at the hospital. But then... she got an idea for a new story. Then another, and another...

Fifteen years and dozens of fantastic tales later, Cammy passed quietly in her sleep, at home, as was her wish. We miss her. Her work lives on, and we hold her in our hearts. Cammy decided many years ago that upon her passing, she wished to donate her royalties to The Quiet Kitty fund, which helps authors with emergency medical expenses. We do, to keep her in our hearts and minds.

 

Find Camille’s other works at Changeling Press


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



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Tuesday, March 17, 2026

Armored Hearts Teaser #rabtbooktours



An Enemies to Lovers Sci-Fi BDSM Vampire Romance


Sci-Fi Romance / Suspense

Date Published: March 20, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press


This book is appropriate only for readers 18+.

 
Captivity makes the heart grow kinkier...

When interstellar mercenary Captain Nick Rand rescues a beautiful enemy from his own men, he thinks she's the answer to his vampire prayers. On the verge of starvation thanks to the destruction of his hemosynther, he's in desperate need of a female blood donor.

Lieutenant Zara Tahir needs Nick Rand as badly as he needs her. Without Nick's blood, Zara's overactive immune system will kill her.

But Zara has no intention of embracing captivity. While she's willing to exchange blood for blood, maybe even play a kinky game or two with the handsome vampire dominant, he's still the enemy. She can't allow herself to see him as anything more.

Then Rand's enemies make things a lot more complicated...

 


Excerpt
Copyright ©2026 Angela Knight

Hunger chewed Captain Nick Rand until he felt like a bone in a wolf's jaws. It wasn't just a hunger of the body, though his gut felt hollow and his hands had a tendency to shake. Didn't matter how much food he ate, how much water, coffee, or whiskey he drank. None of it touched the craving that gnawed at his brain, making it hard to think about anything but what he needed. Even now, when the enemy might be drawing a bead on his skull, all he wanted was blood. Hot, red and seductive as a siren -- a taste that reminded him of sex and the cool touch of a woman's hands.

Rand fought to ignore that bottomless need. He didn't have time for it now, no matter how hungry he was. Enemy temp shelters surrounded him, dome shapes dappled with camouflage until they were indistinguishable from the forest floor.

They made his shoulder blades itch.

Invisible, a silencer field muting the sound of his footfalls, he padded between the shelters, beam rifle raised as he swept its muzzle from side to side, scanning for potential attackers. His stomach growled so loudly he wondered if the noise could be heard outside his silencer field. He ignored his hunger, fighting to concentrate past the savage need. As he'd been fighting for every endless hour of the previous nine days.

Instead, Rand focused on the familiar process of searching the enemy camp. He could hear the rasp of his breathing in his helmet as he ducked into one empty tent after another, though the silencer muted the sound past four or five centimeters.

In his helmet com, he heard the murmur of his men reporting in as they filtered through the camp, searching for the enemy. They had no more luck than he'd had. The Falaran Coalition battalion had melted into the surrounding forest, leaving behind smashed equipment, hastily abandoned meals and wrecked temporary shelters. Apparently they'd been alerted to the approach of the G.A.E. force at the last minute, dropped everything, and run like hell. Wise of them, considering they were outgunned and outmanned. The colony was small, without the economic resources Godsson's more established planetary population could command. Their armor was certainly no match for the G.A.E.'s.

Still, they could have left someone behind. Maybe in camouflage armor like his own, surrounded by a field of energy that bent light, rendering the sniper invisible.

But you could bend all the light you wanted to, and it wouldn't stop Rand from picking up your scent. Vampires had great noses. And great speed, great endurance, and enough raw strength to take on a mech unit with no backup at all.

Which was why he had been hired in the first place, despite the G.A.E.'s disdain for mercenaries in general and vampires in particular. The generals who led the Glorious Army of the Enlightened didn't know a damned thing about war. Nick Rand, on the other hand, had spent the past two decades fighting in a dozen wars on a dozen planets. His combat reflexes weren't just muscle memory -- they were burned in all the way down to his DNA.

Which was why the G.A.E.'s brass had decided they could ignore his food preferences.

He moved in a liquid glide into the next tent. Sweeping his rifle over the whole space in a smooth arc, he ordered a sensor scan. The answer came back a heartbeat later. Sensor scan completed. No enemy located, said the computer implanted at the base of his brain. He breathed deep, scenting the air just to be sure. And froze.

The tent belonged to a woman. Actually, more than one. Perfume lingered in the air: lilacs and star roses and the natural scent of female bodies. Rand inhaled, drinking in the lush aroma. His eyes closed for just a heartbeat as he imagined the taste of blood and pussy.

Months. It had been months since he'd had a woman. Godsson taught females were corrupting influences who'd blunt his soldiers' warrior instincts. He insisted women belonged at home, teaching their children piety and submission to the will of their Most Exalted -- i.e., Godsson himself.

Yeah, right. Why the female cultists tolerated this airlock blow, Rand had no idea. It was no wonder the million or so Falarans had refused to join Godsson's six million plus worshipers, badly outnumbered or not.

I should never have taken this fucking job. Never mind that he'd needed work. Peace had broken out all over with its usual rotten timing. Absolutely no one had been hiring. Had it not been for Godsson's decision to invade the neighboring planet Falara, Rand would have been forced to find a security job, and he hated bodyguard work with a passion.

But after a year with the G.A.E., the idea of keeping some arrogant prick alive was starting to sound pretty damned good. For one thing, he wouldn't be slowly starving to death among zealots who considered him a pervert.

He wished G.A.E. HQ would quit fucking around and send him a new hemosynther. The last time he'd commed them, Supplies and Requisitions claimed the 'synther was on order, scheduled to arrive from Earth next week in a shipment of medical equipment. Rand had told the requisitionist it had better, or he was coming to HQ to sink his teeth into something with a pulse.

The man had blanched. As if Rand would touch his sweaty neck with a nine meter radiation probe. His blood would probably taste like burned coffee and stale doughstries anyway.

Growling under his breath, Rand left the tent -- and heard the scream coming from the other end of camp. A woman's voice, crying out in rage and pain.

He was running before the echo died.

* * *

If she hadn't been so sick, she could have made the G.A.E. bastards pay a higher price when they found her in the middle of the camp. Unfortunately, it had been more than a month since her vampire had died, and Lieutenant Zara Tahir was deep in blood sickness.

They surrounded her, a yelling, laughing mob of massive shapes in helmets and black armor emblazoned with Godsson's halo and planet logo. Those suits gave them enough raw power to take on a blast tank and win.

Even so, Zara hadn't made it easy for them. Even in her lighter V.S.S. armor, she had the advantage in speed and agility. Fighting ferociously, she triggered a spontaneous nosebleed. Feeling the hot wetness rolling down her upper lip as she spun and kicked, she snarled. It had been far too long since she'd tasted vampire blood. Wouldn't be long before her own immune system killed her.

Not that these fuckers would give it the chance. They were pissed, and they planned to kill her. And worse.

 

About the Author

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

 

Author Links

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

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




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