Party Animal by Gale Stanley #LGBT #GayRomance #ContemporaryRomance @galestanley @changelingpress

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PARTY ANIMAL by Gale Stanley

Roosters 6

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.

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I stared at my reflection in the mirror and gave myself an eight out of ten. All those late nights were finally taking a toll. Would I give them up? Hell no! Life was a never-ending party, and the guest list changed every day. I liked it that way. Variety is the spice of life after all.

But right now, I needed to do damage control. I read somewhere that the eyes are the mirror of the soul. If that was true then my soul must be puffy, wrinkled, and bloodshot. It wasn’t a good look. Thank God for eye drops. A few in each eye made my whites pop. I practiced my sultry green stare in the mirror. Not bad, but the bags had to go. I reached for the Preparation H and applied it liberally. My sister swears by the stuff.

I’d showered and shaved at home, but my hair needed a redo. My trademark look is a messy bedhead, black locks flying every which way. I don’t like to disappoint the fans and it’s easy enough to get the look. It’s all about a good haircut and a few styling tricks, like gel.

I stepped back from the mirror to check out my body. No problems there. Six feet, two inches of lean muscle thanks to an exercise routine that keeps me camera ready. No matter how late I go to bed, I wake up early and use the small gym in my apartment building. A good workout always makes me feel better. Today, we’re shooting early, so I did a short routine, just long enough to break a sweat and get my blood pumping. Then it was SSME, and I’m not talking kinky sex. Shower, shave, moisturize, enema. I like to be clean for the close-up shots.

Yeah, I bare it all, but it’s all for the sake of art. I’m not kidding. One of my first jobs when I came to LA was as an artist’s model. At first, because of my strict upbringing, I was uncomfortable posing nude, but eventually I realized that the human body is a beautiful thing. It was a liberating experience.

Today, I’ve convinced myself that filming is an art form. There are thousands, maybe millions of guys out there staring at my naked body. What I do prompts an emotional response and gives them pleasure, just like other art forms. Art is in the eye of the beholder, after all. It’s one hell of an ego trip.

Roosters Series Graphic

Check out all the books in the Roosters series:

https://www.changelingpress.com/roosters-s-513

Author Bio and Links

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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.

Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

 

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Don’t Let Go by Lynn Burke #FemDom #Domme #BDSM #EroticRomance #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

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Don’t Let Go

Darkest Desires #1

by Lynn Burke

Publisher: Changeling Press

Troy Jenner’s ex called his desire to be dominated sick. Divorced, shamed, and stripped bare of his assets, Troy is gifted a three day pass to Monique’s, Baltimore’s elite sex club. He hopes to discover the depths of his desires, not fall for the Domme with a turbulent past in her eyes.

Barista by day, Mistress by night, Jaycie Atkins is the Domme assigned to fulfill submissive’s fantasies of pain with pleasure. To conquer her childhood trauma, she learned to be powerful and prudent. Always giving, never receiving. Always in control — until Troy’s grateful groans after every whip of her flogger threaten to slip past her Domme defenses. The warmth in his eyes tempting her to trust him like no other.

Will Troy’s patience and persistence in breaking down her walls pay off, or will he be forced to accept the fact Mistress will never let go and give him the collar and second chance at love he longs for?

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I knelt in the middle of the dungeon-like room as I’d seen on the countless BDSM websites I’d been studying the past month, exactly like they’d shown us new subs at the introduction class the evening before. Butt naked, dick already at half-mast because I finally had the chance to explore the darkness inside of me that had killed my ten-year marriage.

As CEO of a prominent software company, I took pride in my self-control and stoic nature. Being a bastard had gotten me up the rung to where I sat comfortably behind a glass desk with windows overlooking Baltimore’s skyline. It had also earned me a nasty divorce a year earlier when my ex-wife took over half of what we owned, leaving me with a broken heart and near-empty bank accounts. At least a constant work load since then had gotten me closer to where I’d been before she’d attempted to wipe me out.

I studied my hands resting on my bare thighs. Springy hair tickled my palms. While the hair on my body remained a dark blond, the previous two years of hell had shot gray through the thick strands on my head and the scruff I couldn’t keep from lining my jaw.

Forty-three and already fucking gray. Wouldn’t help my chance at dating — if I ever got the balls to put myself out there again. I’d been celibate for over a year. Dead inside, unable to give two shits about anything but work, unable to get it up, too. I also didn’t have the energy to get involved, let alone think of dating.

Familiar exhaustion tugged on my eyelids, and I let them close while waiting for the Domme the club’s owner had booked me with for the night — Mistress Jaycie. A woman I’d never met, a woman I was going to let control me in whatever way she wanted.

Time to give over. Time to explore my lust for pain and hopefully float into that mysterious subspace I’d been reading about.

My dick twitched at the thought of pure, empty-headed euphoria.

Would the Domme I’d been paired with have a heavy hand? Would she be beautiful? Did I even care? I just wanted — craved — submission, the type that would erase the shit in my mind for a while and maybe get my rocks off.

My ex had been vanilla, same as I’d always been, and when I got the urge to introduce something new in the bedroom, she’d looked at me with disgust. Hell, I’d only suggested handcuffs and ropes, hoping she’d agree so we could eventually move on to what I really wanted.

No such fucking luck.

I breathed deep and exhaled my thoughts along with the lungful of used-up air. The silence coating the dim, private scening room at Monique’s club in downtown Baltimore soothed me. Even if it turned out the BDSM lifestyle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have gotten to experience a semi-hard dick again.

A click sounded as the door opened, and I kept my head and gaze lowered as I’d been instructed in the class. Awareness crept over my skin like an electrical charge as heels clicked on hardwood. My heartbeat accelerated. The subtle scent of oranges hit my nose as black leather stiletto boots came into my line of sight.

Hot as fuck. I bit back my groan as my cock thickened. I swallowed against sudden nervousness, something I hadn’t experienced since my teenage years.

“Hmm…” she murmured. The boots rounded to my left, disappearing in my periphery. “On your feet, slave.” Her low, husky voice prickled my skin, bringing my dick to full attention.

I rose with as much grace as I could, hands at my sides, erection sticking up close to my navel.

A soft inhale tickled my ears as I straightened completely.

I knew what she saw — what she probably didn’t expect for a man teetering on the brink of the downslope from his prime. Daily yoga, running, and weight training kept my body looking the same as it had at twenty-five.

Something tailed down my backbone and across the top of my ass cheeks, lacking the warmth of skin. Crop? Cane? The urge to know made me want to shift my stance, but I held still.

She rounded to the right and stopped in front of me.

From my height, most of her body came into view even though I kept my head lowered. The black leather of her boots hugged defined calves, stopping just above her knees. A good twelve inches of smooth, pale skin gave way to a tight leather skirt — also black — over flared hips, ending at her tiny waist. She held a crop in her right hand.

My dick actually jumped, bumping my abs.

I glanced up through my lashes, filling my eyes with the corset-cinched tits threatening to spill over the top. The milky-white globes set my mouth to watering.

“You will call me Mistress.”

© Lynn Burke 2018

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

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

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★COVER REVEAL★ Tex (Dixie Reapers MC) by @HarleyW_Writer #MCromance #bikerromance #NewAdult #SingleDadRomance #coverreveal @changelingpress

Ex-Soldier. Biker. Father. Husband? One look at Kalani and I know I’ll protect her at all costs.

 

Tex (Dixie Reapers MC #6) is coming August 2018 from Changeling Press, pre-order links coming soon. Tex is a sexy single dad, biker romance with over the top heat and a dash of suspense. There’s only one thing that will bring out the softer side of this hardened man… his daughter and the woman who has protected her for the last seven years.

 

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Themes: Interracial, Big Beautiful Woman, MC Romance, Men in Uniform, New Adult, Silver Fox (Older Hero)

Ryker (Roosters series) by Harley Wylde #bikers #MCromance #EroticRomance #preorder @changelingpress @HarleyW_Writer

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genre(s): New Adult, Contemporary
Themes: MC Romance

Ryker — After 20 years in the military, I find myself doing my dad’s dirty work. But as the “prince” of the Hades Abyss MC, it’s expected of me. Doing a little recon in a small Alabama town should have been boring as shit, until the hot little minx I met at a bar turned my life upside down. Women always fall at my feet, but this one was different. If I’d known she was a virgin, I might have backed away, but now that I’ve had a taste I just want to keep coming back for more. Little did I realize that I’d just fucked the sister of a Dixie Reaper, and my life was about to become all kinds of complicated. I had to wonder… had she fucked me because she wanted me? Or was it all some kind of setup?

Laken — My big brother Flicker is always ruining my fun, keeping the guys away from me, so when I finally get a chance for a hot guy to get rid of my V-card, I’m all for it. Ryker’s hot and has that alpha vibe, and the fact he’s ex-military just made me wetter. It never occurred to me that he was a biker, or that I might have just screwed up a big deal for the Dixie Reapers. It seems my sexy Ryker isn’t just some hot military guy. No, he’s the son of the President of the Hades Abyss MC. So I hide like big brother asks me to. Just one problem… Ryker doesn’t leave, and now I’m late. How am I supposed to tell Ryker that I’m carrying his child? When life fucks me over, it does it royally.

Pre-Order for July 13th

Amazon BN / Kobo iTunes

Not sure if you’ll like the book? Here’s a little X-rated taste…

Ryker–

I threw back another shot of whiskey, and slammed the glass down on the bar top. It was my tenth. Or was it twelfth? I’d lost count somewhere along the way, but I wasn’t even remotely drunk. There was a slight warmth spreading through me, but I was one hundred percent in charge of my actions. So when I slid my hand up the back of the thigh of the hottie standing next to me, yeah that was all me. What can I say? That sweet, curvy ass of hers was calling to me.

She slowly turned her head to look at me over her shoulder as my hand slipped up further, sliding under the hem of her too short dress. Mmm. No panties. I gave her ass cheek a squeeze and watched as heat flared in her eyes. Whatever schmuck she’d been talking to was forgotten as she turned to face me. Oh yeah. The front matched the back. Nice, luscious breasts that were barely contained by the stretchy top of her dress, and damn if her nipples weren’t poking through.

“Normally a guy buys me a drink before he grabs my ass,” she said.

“Guess I’m not a normal guy.”

She reached out and fingered the dog tags that I still wore, despite the fact I’d been out of the service for a month. “No, soldier, you certainly aren’t.”

“Marine,” I said.

She bit her lip and moved in a little closer. “Guess that makes you something of a badass, doesn’t it?”

I smirked and squeezed her ass again. “Something like that.”

She reached out and rubbed a hand down my chest, her fingers trailing across my abs and stopping at my belt buckle. I could tell she liked what she saw, and I damn sure liked the way she filled out her dress. It would look even better bunched around her waist while I fucked her.

“You’re so big and strong,” she said with a purr.

“Oh, baby. You have no idea.”

I slid my fingers further down the curve of her ass until they teased her pussy. She was already wet and so damn slick, and she looked like just the type of girl who would let me fuck her in the bathroom. I knew the type, and those hard nipples and wet little pussy told me that she wanted me bad enough to let me do whatever I wanted. Women tended to fall at my feet, always had, and this one wasn’t going to be an exception. Kneeling was a good place for them, easier access for sucking my cock.

“Bigger doesn’t mean better,” she said. “It’s all in how you use it.”

“I know how to use it. I can make you scream my name all night long.”

She shrugged. “Maybe you can and maybe you can’t.”

Oh, I could. It was a proven fact. Women always screamed in ecstasy whenever I was pounding into their pussies, or anywhere else I pleased. They begged me for it.

“What’s your name, sugar?”

“Laken.”

“I’m Ryker. What do you say we get to know one another a little better?” I stroked her pussy again, letting my fingers dip inside. She bit her lip and a flush started creeping up her chest. I’d be willing to bet I could get her off right here and now.

“Maybe I’m not that kind of girl,” she said, her voice dropping as I stroked her some more.

“Honey, my fingers are coated in your cream, right here in front of everyone. I bet I could get you so turned on, you’d let me fuck you anywhere I pleased. Just bend you over the bar and take what I wanted.” I smirked. “In any hole I wanted.”

She gasped, but her eyes dilated and I knew she’d liked the idea. Naughty girl.

I rubbed her a little more, getting her even wetter. Yeah, this sexy woman was a wild one. I knew the type. A tremor raked her body and I knew she was close to coming. I thrust a finger inside of her and nearly groaned at how damn tight she was. Fuck, but she’d squeeze my cock so damn good. I played with her pussy until she was a quivering mess, barely hanging on. Then I slipped my hand free from her dress, wrapped my fingers around hers, and dragged her off to the nearest bathroom. If the stickiness on my fingers bothered her, she didn’t complain.

I pushed open the bathroom door, hauled her in behind me, then snapped the lock into place. She gave me a coy smile as she leaned back against the counter. I prowled closer, thinking of all the filthy things I wanted to do to her. Our options were limited in this bathroom though. Maybe I’d take her back to the motel with me. She looked like a screamer, and I’d love her my name on her lips all fucking night and into the morning. When I was done with her, she’d be feeling me for a week.

I traced the top of her dress, my finger lightly trailing along the curve of her breasts. She licked her lips and I knew she was going to give me what I wanted. They always did. I eased the straps of her dress down her arms and pulled the top half down under her breasts. So damn perky! They were a little more than a handful, but the minx had gone without a bra. Her nipples were hard and the prettiest pink I’d ever seen.

Leaning forward, I traced my tongue around first one then the other before sucking one into my mouth. Her fingers slid into my hair, holding me to her as I lavished attention on her luscious tits. My cock was hard as a fucking steel post, and the cute little sounds she was making just made me even harder. I couldn’t wait to get balls deep inside of her. Something told me once wouldn’t be enough.

I pulled away and turned her to face the mirror.

“Hands on the counter, baby, and stick that gorgeous ass out for me.”

She leaned over and wiggled her ass at me. I gave her a playful slap, then pulled up the hem of her dress until the material bunched around her waist. A tattoo caught my attention, a delicate feather that curled around her hip. It wouldn’t be all that remarkable, but the ink looked almost metallic. My finger stroked over it before my cock demanded attention.

I used my foot to kick her feet further apart, admiring the way her pussy parted, as if it were begging to be fucked. I didn’t waste any time and started unbuckling my belt, then undoing my pants. I pulled my cock out, giving it a few strokes as I stared at the sexy woman in front of me. Our gazes locked in the mirror, hers pleading for me to touch her, to fuck her.

 

ABOUT HARLEY WYLDE

Short. Erotic. Sweet.

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

You can follow Harley on AmazonTwitter, or Facebook. Get New Release notifications (for US readers) by following Harley on BookBub! Check out more of Harley’s books by visiting her at harleywylde.com.

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Harley Wylde is the “wilder” side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. She also writes gay erotic romance (M/M and M/M/M) as Dulce Dennison.

Spotlight: Her Cyborg Champion by Anne Kane #cyborg #scifi @annekane @changelingpress

 

Her Cyborg Champion

 (Terras Five – Book Four)

By Anne Kane

Genres: Sci –Fi, Cyborgs, romance

http://www.AnneKane.com

http://books2read.com/u/3yDe6V

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An intergalactic game of hide and seek, with a sexy human female as the prize.

Zoe is five feet, six inches of green-eyed, red-haired militant activist. A deeply ingrained need to help those who can’t help themselves — human and otherwise — motivates her every move. She snuck into the Mailon research facility to investigate rumors of experiments being conducted on a rare and highly intelligent species of sentient mammals. Now she finds herself in need of help to rescue one very sick little battle rat.

Greyson is six and a half feet of ruggedly muscular cyborg with a penchant for violence. He loves to fight, and he fights to win. What he hates is being sent to the Mailon research facility on a petty errand. When he catches a glimpse of a former lover flitting around the facility like an impossibly sexy cat burglar, he is intrigued. What is the saucy little wench up to, and why is she stalking him through the corridors of the alien laboratory?

EXCERPT

“So what’s the plan?” Greyson swiveled the command seat to look at his passenger. Passengers, actually. Since bringing the bedraggled little bundle of fur aboard, he’d come to realize that the battle rat was definitely a sentient being, and understood most, if not all of what was being discussed.

She might not look like much, and he certainly didn’t expect the battle rat to be an asset in an actual battle but she was starting to grow on him. Who would have believed he had a compassionate side? Certainly none of his platoon mates in the outer rim battalion!

Zoe let out a long sigh. “I hadn’t actually got past the part where I used your trip to the research facility to facilitate getting her out of there. I’d like to take her back to her home, to her own kind but I have no idea where that is.”

Greyson titled his head to study her. “So how did you find out she was in the facility?”

“Mailon carelessness. They did a news release on some new tech development and she showed up in the background of one of the info shots. One of my contacts sent me a still frame of it, and the location of the facility. They knew I’d find a way to get her out of there.”

“So why didn’t you just go for the usual media route to get her freed?”

Zoe shook her head. “Wouldn’t work. The Mailons have a lot of clout with the big stations and they’d be leery of airing anything that might cut off the gravy train. These little critters might be cute, but they don’t have any hard currency to barter with.”

Greyson reached down to scoop up the battle rat. The little creature cooed at him. She sounded happy, although for all he knew maybe that sound was her battle cry. She batted her eyelids at him, and he chuckled. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was playing coy.

He looked over at Zoe. “You should give her a name. We can’t keep calling her ‘the thing.’”

Zoe shrugged, her attention on the star chart dancing in the air in front of her. “I would imagine she has a name. We just have no idea of what it is.”

“Well, she needs a name we can pronounce.”

Zoe let go of the star chart and it blinked out of existence. She glided over to his side with a graceful movement that set his libido in gear. It took more than a little self-control to quash the urge to take her in his arms and ravish her.

Again.

They’d done little else in the time they’d been cooped up together on his shuttle. In his defense there wasn’t a lot else to do as the ship hurtled through space on auto-pilot. It wasn’t outfitted for entertaining. As a bonus, Zoe seemed to derive as much, or more, satisfaction from their erotic activities as he did.

She cocked her head and studied the creature. “How about Joan? As in Joan of Arc from the stories from Old Earth? I don’t recall the whole story but she was a female warrior of some sort. It seems suitable for a battle rat.”

Greyson still had his doubts about the thing’s ability to defend itself, let alone wage battle but he saw no reason to bring that up. He reached out to ruffle her fur. “Joan it is. What do you think of your new name?”

As if she understood the conversation, the newly named Joan chortled happily and bounced up his arm to drape herself across the back of the command chair.

“I think she’s adopted you.” Zoe grinned at him.

“You might try explaining to her that you were the one who rescued her.” No way was he going to admit that he enjoyed the little fur ball’s company.

“Nope. Too late. She’s bonding with you. Maybe we won’t have to worry about where her home is.”

“Well right now we’re on course to the supply station in the Gliese system. Once we get there we need to figure out where we’re going next. “

“Where were you heading before I interrupted your plans?”

“Terras Five, but I’m not sure you want to go there with me.”

Zoe wrinkled her nose.

Gods. Even that small gesture went straight to his groin.

“Have to say you have a point there. Maybe you could drop me off on one of the human space stations? There must be one in the vicinity.”

“There is, but it’s a military facility. I’m not sure you’d pass their security clearances. I seem to recall you have a bit of a checkered history.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “I have a couple of alternate sets of I.D. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He arched his brow. “There’s also the other problem with that idea. What if I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you on a base crowded with testosterone-driven males?”

She laughed. “Are you serious? You think they’d be worse than you? We barely keep our clothes on long enough to eat.”

“On the contrary, I think they’d be exactly like me — which is why I object.” He leaned back in his chair and grinned up at her. “Although they wouldn’t be as proficient at the sensual arts of course. I’m sure you’d be disappointed.”

BUY LINKS
 

Changeling Press:

 http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2739

Everywhere else:

http://books2read.com/u/3yDe6V

 
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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

Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

You can find Anne around the web at:

Website: http://www.AnneKane.com

Blog: http://annekane.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/annekane

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/anne.kane.author

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Annekane

 

 

Spotlight: Innocent and Sweet by Megan Slayer #NewRelease #newadult #ContemporaryRomance #EroticRomance @changelingpress @MeganSlayer

Innocent and Sweet by Megan Slayer

Roosters, Book 1

Changeling Press

Short Story

M/F, New Adult

 

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Anissa Dunn wants one man — Kameron. He’s got looks, brains and a boatload of attitude… and all that muscle. A girl can only take so much, and he’s her heart’s desire. She’s not afraid to give as good as she gets and she wants him to be her teacher in all things carnal.

There’s only one catch — he’s her bodyguard and the rules state she can’t date the staff.

But rules are meant to be broken…

BUY LINKS

Available from Changeling Press:  https://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2745

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DVM3N4Q/

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/b5rkBA

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2018 Megan Slayer

I will make him notice me. Anissa adjusted her dress. The cherry-red halter frock hung on her thin frame. So much for the correct fit. She sighed. No matter what she did, she couldn’t put on weight. She debated what to add to improve her figure. If she wore the leather jacket, she’d appear edgy. The clunky boots helped increase her height, so she was fine there. But her bust… drat. She peered down at her chest. A wave of nausea hit her as she thought about her dating past. Guys didn’t want to date a woman with a flat chest — or so they’d told her.

She spied the gel bra cups she’d bought during her last trip to the fabric store. If she had boobs, maybe the guy of her dreams would finally notice her. He had to.

Anissa stuffed the chilly padding beneath the cups of her dress. Her boobs looked huge. Instead of the burst of confidence she’d expected, she hated her reflection in the mirror. The additions didn’t fit her frame. But she had a date and no choice but to do her best to entice him. If fake boobs worked, then fine. She’d take her chances.

She donned the jacket, then grabbed her purse and hurried downstairs.

Kam stood in the foyer. He wore the same battered leather jacket, faded jeans and dark sunglasses as he always did. He touched his earpiece. “In position.”

Her heart fluttered. Kameron Stone personified sex in human form. Her nipples ached, and she pressed her knees together. She’d never been with a man and wanted Kam to be her first. If she had her way, he’d be her only.

Would he fuck her?

Better yet, would he love her the way she loved him?

“I have the package,” Kam said. “Preparing to leave.”

She frowned. The package. She didn’t have the honor of being referred to by her name. Gaining his attention wasn’t going to be easy. “I’m ready.”

Kam nodded. “This way, Ms. Dunn.”

“Anissa.” He’d used her last name. Dang it. She’d pleaded with him so many times to call her by her first name. Ms. Dunn was her mother. She was just Anissa.

“Ms. Dunn.” Kam escorted her to the front porch, then down the steps. He opened the passenger door of the limo. “After you.”

“Thanks.” She couldn’t leave the house without her trusty bodyguard, Kam. She settled on the seat and folded her hands on her lap. Kam would do anything to protect her, and she trusted him, but she was twenty-one and her father needed to put some faith in her. He’d sheltered her from everything. She didn’t resent him for trying — when she turned twenty-five, she’d come into a hefty sum of cash via the trust her mother had left her, but still. She’d gone to an all-girls college, a private all-girls high school and never spent more than a few hours on her own. She crossed her legs, and her skirt rode high on her leg. Did Kam notice? Did he care?

She swept her gaze over him as he sat beside her. Strong and silent. He wore his clothes like a second skin, could eviscerate anyone who tried to get too close, but Kam said so little. Half the time she had no idea if he listened to her. Knowing him, he tuned her out.

“Kam?” She shifted in her seat to face him. Her skirt rode higher. He didn’t pay her any attention, which rankled her. “Kameron.”

“Ms. Dunn.” He seemed to stare straight ahead.

She whipped out her phone. She couldn’t go through with the date. Not now. She sent a text to the driver, requesting he stay in the driveway. She’d sent the itinerary to the security team but saw no point in leaving the house. Kam wasn’t paying attention to her — not in the way she wanted. He didn’t seem to care.

She sighed. According to the magazines she’d bought, her college roommate and the dirty movies she’d watched in the middle of the night, she had to be aggressive and demand what she wanted. Sure… she could be aggressive. She could demand his attention. But she wasn’t sure how.

Anissa switched seats to face Kam. The car rolled to a stop, most likely in front of the house. She parted her legs and leaned back. “Kam.”

If he looked at her, she couldn’t tell.

“Ms. Dunn?” Kam tensed, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “Are you okay?”

Nope. He hadn’t noticed her lousy attempts to entice him.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled. What a liar…”I’d like to talk to you.”

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. Find out more about Megan and Wendi at: http://wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm Sign up for the newsletter here: http://ymlp.com/xgjmjumygmgj

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Rena and the Alien Warrior by Jessica Coulter Smith #scifi #aliens #NewRelease #EroticRomance #purpleissexy @changelingpress @kitcatjms

 

AlienWarrior Final

Rena was sold into slavery at the age of fifteen, ripped away from her home and a loving father, and cast into a life of pain and horror. Despite the abuse she’s suffered through years of slavery, she counts herself lucky that no one has ever touched her intimately. When she angers her current owner, and he gives her to a purple alien as a gift, she isn’t sure if this next stage of her life will be a blessing or a curse. After five years as a captive, she’s too beaten to believe she’ll have a happily-ever-after. Who could ever fall in love with a woman as badly damaged as her? Even the purple alien called Ryx doesn’t seem all that interested.

Beren has avoided females at all costs. His scarred body and damaged ear don’t make for a very handsome male. When his commander, Ryx, brings a human female on board their ship, Beren is curious yet cautious. Like him, Rena has wounds on both the outside and inside. For the first time, Beren wonders if maybe there’s a female after all who will look past his exterior to see his warrior heart, and not someone broken and pitiful. Her courage and strength appeal to him, and yet she’s so soft and small that his protective urges rise to the surface. Whether Beren gets to claim her or not, he vows that he will lay down his life for Rena and protect her at all costs. He just never realized that in doing so he would end up with what he wanted most – her.

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EXCERPT

Beren scowled at Ryx. “You did what?”

“I’ve procured a female slave from Frih,” his commander said. “A human.”

Beren smacked his bad ear, certain he’d misheard. The heat from the weapon that had removed the top half seemed to have damaged his hearing as well. But poor hearing or not, he couldn’t have just heard his commander say he’d purchased a slave. If the council found out, the punishment would be severe. Zelthranites did not keep slaves, especially females. And most definitely not humans! If Earth’s government thought for one moment a Zelthranite had taken a human slave, not only would their agreement be forfeit, but likely a war would start.

Ryx snorted. “You didn’t mishear me. Her name is Rena, and she was given to me by Frih as a gift. It was supposed to be for one night, but I arranged to keep her permanently.”

“So, you bedded her, and now you’re going to claim her?” Beren asked, feeling slightly better about the situation. It was one thing to take a mate, and another to keep a slave. But if the commander were to claim the female…

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Ryx said.

Beren blinked and stared. “You didn’t bed her. But you’re keeping her. As what?”

“I thought she might find a mate on our world, or possibly on this ship. None of us are mated, and she seems pretty enough, despite the damage done to her by her various owners.” The commander grimaced, and his gaze dropped.

Damage? What was that supposed to mean? From the commander’s reaction, Beren wondered how badly the female had been harmed. He thought of his many injuries, the physical and emotional pain he’d been through, and wondered what had happened to the female during her captivity. He knew that some slave owners could be cruel, and he wondered if the male Ryx was here to see was one of them. If the male was dealing in human females, could they honestly do business with him in the future? Even if Frih did manage to get weapons they didn’t have the connections to purchase anywhere else, was it really worth it? They were just providing him with the means to buy more females, and Beren felt sick at the thought. Living beings, of any type, should never be kept like property. If Ryx had known all this time that Frih was purchasing slaves, how could he live with himself?

“I’m bringing her on board as soon as she wakes,” Ryx said. “I just have to decide where I’m placing her. With a full crew, I don’t exactly have extra space on board right now.”

“You have the largest quarters on board,” Beren said. “And the largest bed.”

Ryx growled. “I told you that I’m not claiming her.”

Beren frowned. He wanted to ask if the commander wasn’t claiming the female because of her slave status, because of the damage done to her, or was he just not attracted to her? Females were so precious to their people that receiving one as a gift wasn’t something to take lightly, and yet the commander was giving the female up to another male? She would no longer be a slave, but a mate, respected and cherished. Beren wasn’t certain how he felt about it. As someone who wasn’t wanted, it made him angry on her behalf. Females should be cherished and cared for, not cast aside.

“Fine. Then we can put a cot in your room. She can sleep there until we reach Zelthrane-3. After that, perhaps the council will put her up in the apartments where the potential brides stay. Then she would be around others like her.”

“Not quite.”

“Not quite what? Not like the others? You said she’s human. And female. What makes her different from the females living in the apartments?”

Ryx nodded. “Yes, she’s a human female, but she doesn’t remember Earth. I think she was taken when she was a small child. For whatever reason, a male on Vaaden raised her as his daughter, until a female from that world sold Rena into slavery.”

Beren ran a hand down his face. “You get yourself into the most complicated issues. So you have a human female, who doesn’t remember Earth, and was likely a slave on Vaaden without her even realizing it? I’ve never heard of those males capturing children to raise as their offspring. When they take human females, it’s for their harems or personal property. You don’t think he was keeping her until she was old enough to…”

Ryx paled and looked like he might be sick. Beren felt much the same way. It was horrific to think such a thing could happen, but with societies who thrived on slavery, anything was possible. He’d heard that human males often claimed they’d get sick if they didn’t have sex, as way to coerce their partners, but in the case of Vaaden males it was true. The need for females was understandable, but Beren hated that they used sex slaves to maintain their health.

“I promised once we were on our way home that I would reach out to Kryon and let him know that Rena is safe,” Ryx said. “But if your speculation is correct, he could cause a problem.”

Beren snorted. “Even if he truly was raising her as his daughter, you don’t think he’ll have an issue with her being taken to our world as a potential mate? What if he already has a male lined up to claim her? You know the Vaadens have a tendency to arrange their mating for business or social standing. With her being human, she could handle a male’s physical needs, unlike the Vaaden females. If she was honestly like a daughter to him, then there is most likely a male who thought she would be his one day.”

“This is…” Ryx sighed.

“To borrow an Earth saying. It’s fucked up, that’s what it is.”

Ryx barked out a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. Today she’s a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.

www.jessicacoultersmith.com

 

JCS June 2018

 

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