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Bull and China by Rayven Renshaw

alternate Earth, BDSM, dark fantasy, ebook, erotic, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, Publisher: Razor's Edge Press, Rayven Renshaw Add Comment

Bull and China by Rayven Renshaw

Bull and China

by Rayven Renshaw

Razor’s Edge Press

eBook ISBN: 06205-01993

China walks into a bar… and makes Bull an offer he’ll find impossible to refuse.

The life of a female warrior can be a lonely one. One look at China’s array of weapons tells Bull she’s a warrior, and dangerous — maybe as dangerous as he is. China needs careful handling.

Maybe Bull can be the one to tame her.

Note: This title has no chapter breaks. Please enjoy the first scene.

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Scene One

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More Than Chains To Bind by Stevie Woods

action/adventure, alternate Earth, ebook, erotic, fantasy, GLBT, m/m, print, Publisher: Amber Quill Press, Stevie Woods Add Comment
More Than Chains To Bind by Stevie Woods

More Than Chains To Bind
by Stevie Woods

Amber Quill Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-61124-134-1
Print ISBN: 978-1-61124-954-5

When Prince Liander and his Guardian, Hollis, are captured during a raid on the south coast of Tesla, they realize they’re prisoners of their country’s ruthless enemy. They are chained and kept separate in training halls fearing the day they may have to fight each other for their very survival.

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Chapter One

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Mating Call by Kate Hill

alternate Earth, ebook, erotic, interracial, Kate Hill, magic/witch, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, Series: Whisper Add Comment
Mating Call by Kate Hill

Mating Call
Whisper, Book 3
by Kate Hill

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 05793-01857

For Rebecca getting physical with the sexy New Zealander whose magical stallion has come to mate with her mare is the easy part. It’s emotions she can’t handle. Rebecca has a secret that keeps her from fully exploring and enjoying her existence as a wraith, but Hugh doesn’t intend to let a chance for love fade away.

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Chapter One

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Darkness in Paradise by Mychael Black

alternate Earth, dark fantasy, ebook, erotic, GLBT, m/m/m, magic/witch, menage, Mychael Black, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, vampire Add Comment

Darkness in Paradise
Spirits of Abaddon, Book 3
by Mychael Black

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 05784-01854

With his lovers Gabriel and Lazarus, Jesse Eldridge traverses the shadowy realm of Abaddon, a world of demons and gods, in pursuit of Hiil, the rogue god of a neighboring world. Hiil fully intends on bringing all of Abaddon to its knees, but he doesn’t realize that Gabriel has a secret weapon in the coming war: Jesse. As a vampire/elemental crossbreed, Jesse possesses powers surpassing those of both his lovers. There’s little time for him to come into his full abilities, however, and it’s going to take a miracle if he and his lovers are to survive.

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Chapter One

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No Dragon, No Problem by Dawn Montgomery

alternate Earth, dark fantasy, Dawn Montgomery, ebook, erotic, fey/faery, futuristic, humor/comedy, m/f, Publisher: Changeling Press 2 Comments

No Dragon, No Problem
WTF Dragon, Book 1
by Dawn Montgomery

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 05669-01816

The Twist: Dash Ryan has a few secrets of his own. Secrets he’s more than willing to exploit for just a taste of the princess’s sexual awakening. But will one taste be enough?

Chapter One

One Deviant to Another
“Princess Tasminia!”
Tasminia fled down the corridor ignoring her stepmother’s shocked cry. She gripped the gaudy material of her wedding dress in white-knuckled fists, barely able to lift the horrid thing off the ground. “A dress fitting, indeed.” The princess was pissed. Furious. The latest attempt of her stepmother’s matchmaking involved the slimy Baron Winterwood — as her surprise groom.
Surprise only to her, apparently.
She refused to let tears fall. Princesses do not cry over political agenda, no matter how well intentioned or infuriating it might be. They even the playing field, and that left her only one option.
She raised her chin.
Run for her life.
She bypassed her rooms in favor of the secret corridor to the lost wing of Werthing Ton Fallorian’s Northern Keep. Where the heart of the kingdom was rumored to beat. Or so the ancient rhyme went.
Tasminia knew it for what it was… superstitious nonsense. The lost wing was a fortuitous accident caused by a jinxed wizard hundreds of years ago. He was supposed to reinforce the walls. Instead he hid the wing inside the walls. The possibilities were mind-boggling. All Tasminia knew was that it used to be her mother’s favorite hiding place, and had become her own sanctuary from the pressures of political intrigue.
Her stepmother’s voice traveled through the halls. “How far do you think you can go? I just have to follow your train, silly girl.”
Her stepmother would have never tried this had the princess’s father and brother not been out on quest. The queen was so worried that Tasminia would never settle down, but why do people think marriage would do it?
Tasminia raced to the giant mirror at the end of the corridor, ignoring the ornate, unflattering, and damned annoying amount of lace and poofs in her would-be wedding dress. Whispering the secret words to open the door, she touched the hidden latches on the mirror frame.
The mirror shimmered. Tasminia’s reflection faded until she could see a dark, ancient corridor. She picked up her dress, stepped over the bottom of the frame, and hauled the material with her. With a touch of her fingers against mirrored hidden latches, and words whispered in reverse, the door closed, cutting her train off. She could barely make out the shimmering fabric as it floated to the ground on the other side.
Tasminia sighed in sudden relief. The fabric had weighed down her head until she thought her neck would snap. Her stepmother would be furious at the train’s destruction. The mirror shimmered, growing opaque until her reflection stared back at her. She looked like a washed out twitter bug. Tasminia turned back to the dark corridor, yanking the ornamental piece off her head as she stormed down the hallway. It tore loose with a few strands of her hair. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear her stepmother had chosen the fabric to keep her weighted down at the altar.
A flash of something caught her eye, and she jerked to a stop. Fifty layers of material continued the forward momentum, nearly knocking her on her royal rump.
With monumental effort she turned, kicking layers of fabric out of her way. First order of business was to get out of this feminine nightmare.
She trekked back, realizing a new room had appeared. Tasminia ran her fingers along the brick edges. It was smooth and worn as though it had stood forever. Until this moment, she’d never seen it. Was it an illusion? A temporary portal?
She hesitated. Stray magic should be left alone. Most princesses would choose a safer route, especially when it involved hidden rooms. One had to be careful to not be caught in one. “I ran out on a wedding I didn’t plan or want. I’m in a magic corridor of a wing that doesn’t exist. A new door opens.” She shrugged. What was the worst that could happen?
Tasminia pushed through the doorway to the darkness beyond.
Torches flared, and Tasminia winced. She put a hand up to shade the glare. Her first impression was a room. Her second impression was like a windstorm whipping through her body. Chained in the center of the room was a man. His arms were bound above his body. He was huge. Far taller than her. She swallowed. He was quite a man. Quite a naked man. His head was bowed, leaving his face in shadow. Long sable hair flowed down his chest and back like a silk cloak.
A surge of heat filled her. Her gaze traveled down the length of him. Sun-kissed skin. Broad shoulders. This was a man to star in her countless midnight fantasies. Carved by the gods, shaped by a woman’s deepest desires. Her mouth grew dry at the length of his cock. Tasminia knew what happened between a man and woman. She’d watched enough interludes in her life to realize this man was well endowed.
He raised his head, and she clenched a fist at her chest. This was no smooth-faced prince. His face was arresting. Too rugged to be beautiful, but stunning nonetheless. The curve of his lips drew the eye, as did the jade green eyes glaring at her. Her back straightened instantly.
“What are you supposed to be with that dust mop of a dress? I don’t recall requesting a room cleaning.”
Tasminia stamped down her irritation at his accurate description. “I can see you’re not one of the good behavior type of prisoners.”
His jaw opened in apparent shock.
“What? You don’t expect women to hold their own when you insult them?”
His eyes flashed to an eerie green that had the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. “You can see me.” It was a quiet statement. No emotion.
Tasminia sighed. He was completely off his rocker. “Of course I can see you. How long have you been trapped here?”
“Too long.” His lips tightened, but his eyes still gleamed with something she recognized as hunger. A twitch in her peripheral vision had her looking down. His incredible cock was hardening. Goodness. Her pussy clenched and pulses of something new, something downright delicious began to coalesce in her nether region.
She cleared her throat and looked down at her dress. With surprise she noted she still held the remnant of her train. His cock was entirely too distracting for her peace of mind.
She tore the material loose from the headpiece and walked to the captive. No matter what the man had done to earn this kind of entrapment, he deserved to at least be clothed.
“What are you doing?”
Tasminia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “You’re naked.”
His lips twitched in the making of a smile. “You noticed?”
Tasminia licked her lips. “I’m observant like that.” She also noted that he was almost fully erect. She closed her eyes wishing the ground would just swallow her up. Why did she come into this side room? She opened her eyes. His expression had turned to something darker, something that had moisture slicking her thighs. “I’m just going to tie this around your waist. Okay?”
The prisoner blinked slowly, and smiled. Tasminia froze. His smile transformed his face to something breathtaking. There was no way he was real. “Dash Ryan.”
Tasminia blinked. “Excuse me?”
He inclined his head. “My name is Dash Ryan. Unless the culture has significantly changed since my imprisonment, it’s normal procedure for you to reply with your name.”
Get a hold of yourself, Tasminia. You’re a princess for goodness sake. “Tasminia deSoto.” She curtsied as well as she could in the monstrosity of a dress. “Pleased to meet you.”
“DeSoto. Interesting.” His eyes turned to that intense green again, and Tasminia wondered if she’d done something she shouldn’t have.
“Nothing interesting about it.”
He smiled again, and Tasminia’s knees nearly gave out. “Since we have now had introductions, you are welcome to cover my body as you see fit.”
Tasminia stamped down all the naughty thoughts that statement created. She took a slow breath and walked forward, stretching out the train. The opaque material was just long enough to go around his waist. She was close enough to see faint scars along his side and shoulders. One in particular caught her eye. The weapon struck close to his heart. He was lucky to be alive with a wound like that. Her fingers touched it, and Dash sucked in a breath. Dark, oppressive sickness enveloped her. Her stomach threatened to rebel. “A magic weapon caused this?” Its jagged line made her skin crawl. She’d always been sensitive to magic, and the taste of this was pure evil.
“Yes.” His voice was husky, and Tasminia felt his breath brush her cheek. “How did you know?”
Tasminia shook her head. How did he have such minty breath if he was trapped here? As far as she knew, she was the only one with access anymore. Questions jumped around in her mind. Questions she shouldn’t be asking. One never messed with unfamiliar magic. “Family trait.” Her finger slid to his skin above the scar and a spark of magic lit within her. She jerked her hand away. That touch was like nothing she’d ever felt before.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” She made quick work of the makeshift sarong. Tasminia inhaled his scent, surprised at the difference. He smelled of rain with a strong touch of lightning. A thunderstorm. The warmth of his skin was a temptation. She knotted the silky material and glanced up at Dash. His incredible eyes watched her.
“You know what the worst part about this is?” Dash’s lips twitched.
“No. What?”
“Only one of us is naked.”
Her eyes widened, and she felt hot and cold all at once. She patted the knot, ignoring the way that statement made her tingle all over. “There.” A quick step back and she could finally breathe again.
It showed a great deal of his thigh but mostly hid the bulging erection. Sort of. The fabric tented around his erection, drawing her eye even more.
“I don’t think this is quite what you had in mind.” His quiet humor made her skin tingle.
She wanted to die of embarrassment. Tasminia picked up the shreds of her dignity and folded her hands. “It’s all I have unless you want leagues of ivory lace and other itchy materials close to your nethers.”
His laughter took her by surprise. It was damn near musical. “My nethers?”
Tasminia rolled her eyes. “What else do you want me to call it?”
His laughter died, and tension sizzled between them. “I prefer cock, but then again, I’m the rogue in chains here.”
So do I. She cleared her throat, and cursed the way her face grew warm. This was the first time in her life she couldn’t keep her emotions in check, and it was damned frustrating. “Your word preferences make no difference to me.” She paused, realizing there was no food or anything. “Is there something I can get you?”
“Freedom would be nice.” His expression turned wistful.
“I have no idea why you were imprisoned in the first place. Why would I set you free?”
“Would you believe I was the one done wrong?”
Tasminia looked at him.
He raised his eyebrows.
She turned with great effort and began trekking back to the main corridor.
“Wait!” His desperate cry stopped her in her tracks. The swish of her dress was the only sound she could hear over her heartbeat. “Don’t go. Please.”
Tasminia turned. In his eyes she could see the same desperation that had her running away from a surprise wedding. She could feel cracks forming in her armor.
“It’s been so long since I actually interacted with anyone. If you won’t free me, will you at least give me the pleasure of your company?”
Tasminia stared at him. “You want to talk to me?”
A flash of humor brightened his eyes. “Of course. You are fun to spar with, and easy on the eyes. That’s a win in my book.”
Tasminia didn’t know what to say. A man interested in her thoughts? Her father and brother were constantly silencing her. The baron had sneered at her when she refused the marriage. A man. Wanting to know her thoughts? Something warm and inviting spread in her chest.
Tasminia stepped closer. “How long have you been here?”
“Too long.” He tilted his head. “Fashion is far more ornate than I remember.”
“This?” Tasminia moved her hips so that the dress would sway. “This is my stepmother’s cure for my willful behavior.”
“A fluffy dress?”
“No. A straight-laced groom and surprise wedding.”
“You ran away from your wedding?”
“Surprise wedding.”
“How do you have a surprise wedding?”
“You go in for a dress fitting, and then step out into the event.”
He winced. “Ouch. Things are definitely different than I remember.” Strands of his hair fell, covering his face.
It was nothing for Tasminia to step up and brush the silky threads behind his ear. The touch of his hair was like the smoothest satin. Magic flared again, and his eyes grew intense. The hair at his temples changed colors right before her eyes. Emerald green, intense, and all the way down to the hair in her hands. She recognized the magic as the same from his skin. It was unique, and specific to this man.
“What is this?” She spread his hair over her palm and looked at him. Really looked at him. His irises were oblong instead of round. If she looked deep enough, she could almost see a spark of fae magic in their depths. She shivered. He wasn’t quite human. “Why is your hair turning this color?”
“It doesn’t all turn. Just bits and pieces.”
Okay, so no answer there. “How long have you been here?”
“How long has this part of the castle been created?”
Tasminia made a face. “You can’t be serious. Over five hundred years ago.”
His breath released in a quiet sigh. “Over five hundred years, then.”
Impossible. “What did you do to get trapped here?”
His humor vanished. “I trusted the wrong wizard.” His eyes moved as though he was searching her face. “You are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen.”
Tasminia sucked in a breath. She wanted to deny how the compliment warmed her insides, but her body had a wicked mind of its own. Humor sprung up to save her from a blubbering naive comment. “I think you need to get out more.”
“Will you come closer?” His question was soft-spoken. Like he expected her refusal.
“Why?”
“You have the most incredible scent.” His eyes were glowing again. “Please allow me these simple pleasures, lady.”
He was definitely crazy. Perhaps he was one of those fae hybrid-types. All sex appeal with nothing upstairs. She stepped closer, ignoring the voice in her head that told her she was crazy too.
“Back in my day, a woman didn’t need to run away from marriage. There were so many other options.”
He pricked her curiosity. “Like what?”
“War. Famine. Dragons.”
“Dragons?” She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “How did dragons keep women from marrying?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Sacrifice, of course.”
“You’re joking. Sacrifice themselves for what? Dinner?”
His grin was wicked. “Something like that.”
She sighed. “Well, we don’t have dragons anymore. The WTF kingdom is in the middle of a hundred years of peace. So war and famine are out too. Not that I’d want the last two, mind you.”
“So dragons are okay, then?”
Tasminia shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose so. As long as none of my people were injured.”
“That kind of defeats the purpose of terrorizing with a dragon, my lady.”
Tasminia clenched her hands in her dress to keep from touching his face, and tracing the soft curve of his lips. “Well, what of the dragon’s honor? If we struck a bargain, wouldn’t the beast have to keep it?”
Dash tilted his head in a pose of amused consideration. “A dragon never goes back on his word, but I think dragons and humans might have different definitions of honor.”
“This conversation is completely meaningless.” Tasminia tossed up her hands in annoyance. “Where would I get a dragon?”
“You’re looking at him.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a little small to be a dragon?”
He mimicked her expression.
“You are completely mad.”
He watched her with searing intensity. “Do you need a real dragon?”
Tasminia shrugged. “I would just need a real threat.” Would rumors work? She shook her head. No one would believe the fairytale. This was the real world, after all.
“What if I could make one appear?”
Her thoughts came to a sudden halt. “What do you mean?”
“Forgive me. I should have given my full introduction. I am Dash Ryan, master illusionist.”
“Master illusionist?” She crossed her arms. “I’ve never heard of you.”
He pushed his head forward as far as it could go. Close enough that she could see gold flecks in the green depths of his eyes. His muscles corded with strength, and she knew he was furious. Hellfire. She would be too, if she’d been locked in a cage. It’s why she stormed away from her ridiculous wedding.
“I wasn’t put in here naked, my lady. The clothes have become dust. My boots were cracked and shredded. I think my fame would have been way before your time.”
She snorted in disbelief. “You couldn’t possibly be that old.” Could he?
“Really? Every day I was here, I watched what I’d been clothed in disintegrate. No food. No water. My body hasn’t needed nourishment in this magic cage, but I’ve craved rich meats and cheeses. The warmth of a woman’s body against mine. Father Night, I’ve missed sitting down. It’s enough to drive a man mad.”
Crazy or not, he was definitely convincing. She brushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, and cleared her throat. “Where are the remnants of your things?”
“Gone. Like everything else in this cursed place. They fall from my body and disappear at dawn.” He pulled away, resting his head against the inside of an arm. “What difference does it make? Once you leave this room, it’ll be closed again, and I won’t be seen or heard for hundreds of years more.”
Tasminia would have gone insane with no one to talk to. The idea of no food? She shuddered. “I don’t want to get married. You want out of this cage. You’re sure this dragon illusion will work?”
“It’s one of the best I’ve ever performed.” Some of the cockiness was back in his smirk.
“I hesitate to trust you, Dash Ryan.”
“I feel the same way about you, Tasminia.”
She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Well, at least we settled that. Now what?”
“You put your hands on my chest.”
Tasminia couldn’t hide her irritation.
He grinned. “The spell was cast above my heart.”
Oh. What she knew about magic was limited… mostly because she ignored her studies. She cast a prayer to the heavens that her ignorance wouldn’t bite her in the royal rump, hesitated a moment, and then pressed her palms against his chest. His breath caught, and her heart pounded like thunder through her veins. Dash’s skin was smooth and warm. She wanted to run her nails against it and see if it reacted the way her arms did when she accidentally tickled them.
Magic wound around her fingers, making them tingle. It froze her against him in shock. She wished she could see it, but only her mother had that ability, and it had died with her. Tasminia had resigned herself to the touch of magic, which was sending her body into a riot of new sensations she wasn’t ready to deal with.
His heart beat steady against her palms. It soothed her nerves but did something else entirely to the core of her womanhood. She found herself synchronizing her breaths with his. Years of magic study and muscle memory came to her aid, brushing away the new and wondrous feelings this prisoner was creating. What had he done to warrant such a punishment?
“When you touch me, it’s like you’re dipping into the soul of what I am.” The quiet words were spoken in an unusual rhythm, which left her trembling.
She chose to keep her mouth shut, and pretend she didn’t want to curl around him like a little sex kitten. It took all her courage to look him in the eyes. Once she did, he ensnared her with their bright green glow. “Now what?” She hardly recognized her own voice.
“Now you say the words you spoke to close the mirror on this side.” That strange cadence continued. His head lowered toward her.
She wanted to ask him how he knew about the mirror. How he knew she’d closed it. Her lips spoke the words without conscious thought, whispering them against his skin in the same lilting tone he’d used. He was so close she could steal the kiss she’d wanted since he’d been found.
His lips skimmed hers. Soft, enticing. She pressed the same pattern on his chest that the mirror required, and in a heartbeat, the magic whipped through him to the cuffs. A resounding click jerked her away from him.
The fog of his spell cleared from her mind, and she realized two very important facts at once.
One, he was very big. Very. Big. Her gaze dropped to the tented material covering his cock. And so was that.
Two, no one else would hear her scream.

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Aurora Skies by Ashlynn Monroe

action/adventure, alternate Earth, Ashlynn Monroe, ebook, erotic, futuristic, m/f, Publisher: Changeling Press, sci-fi, Series: Aurora Add Comment
Aurora Skies by Ashlynn Monroe

Aurora Skies
Aurora, Book 2
by Ashlynn Monroe

Changeling Press

eBook BIN: 05635-01805

When an alien rock-creature bites her hand, Mallory learns how real the mystical forces on Aurora are, and how much her body craves her protector. DeBaron knows there’s only one way to save the foolish Earthling from the creature’s bite — sex, and lots of it. Together they will discover the secret of Aurora’s mysteries may be a chemistry of their own.

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Prologue

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Star Prince by Ashlynn Monroe

action/adventure, alternate Earth, Ashlynn Monroe, ebook, erotic, futuristic, m/f, Publisher: Changeling Press, sci-fi, Series: Aurora, suspense/mystery Add Comment
Star Prince by Ashlynn Monroe

Star Prince
Aurora, Book 1
by Ashlynn Monroe

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60521-758-1

When DeMarcus impulsively declares he owes Tasmin a life debt, she must convince the Imperial Council to grant them both their freedom. But after a night of erotic delights with the sexy alien, will she be able to let him go?

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Chapter One

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Wolf Tracker by Cynthia Sax

alternate Earth, Cynthia Sax, ebook, erotic, m/f, Publisher: Changeling Press, Series: Wolves of WW, shapeshifter, werewolf, western/cowboy Add Comment
Wolf Tracker by Cynthia Sax

Wolf Tracker
Wolves of the Wild West (multi-author series)
by Cynthia Sax

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60521-690-4

When a rival werewolf pack takes Harriet, Trace reckons he’ll do his courting with a six-shooter and a fistful of silver bullets. ‘Cause no one touches Trace’s woman and lives.

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Chapter One

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Landlocked by Cindy Jacks

alternate Earth, Cindy Jacks, ebook, erotic, futuristic, m/f, Publisher: Ellora's Cave 1 Comment

Landlocked
by Cindy Jacks

Ellora’s Cave

eBook ISBN: 9781419933783
Print ISBN: 9781419964909

Kathryn has struggled to survive in a war-torn region that used to be part of the United States, she and her son need a miracle. That miracle comes in the form of Captain Brett Logan, a privateer for the Republic of Texas. When an enemy bomb nearly ends him, Kathryn nurses him back to health. She’s drawn to the enigmatic pirate, finding shelter in his arms and in his bed.

Chapter One

The dream was always the same—a golden-haired savior on a golden steed. No not a steed. He was a swashbuckler, sword drawn, golden hair glinting in the midday sun. But who used swords anymore? A flaxen-haired gunslinger, a pistol on his hip. Okay, so the dream itself wasn’t exactly the same, but the wish it represented was. Someone to save her from her nightmares. Someone to hold her, to love her.
Firm lips against hers, the hint of stubble on his cheek. Probing tongue seeking hers. The feel of his hips between her thighs, his heavy frame over hers. Hot and wet and dirty sex. She craved it like chocolate or cheeseburgers. More pleasures she’d probably never know again.
Kathryn awoke in frustration to find herself in her bedroom, her hand in her panties, her most useless body part throbbing. Extracting her hand, she turned her attention to the tin roof over her, popping as it warmed in the rising sun. She hated when her base physical needs reared their ugly heads. She hated the fantasies—they only made her waking life more unbearable. Knight in shining armor, cowboy…a pirate? As if that was ever going to happen, even if hell froze over. And Kathryn knew all about hell. She’d lived here for ten years.
* * * * *
September 7, 2013
Shoving against the latch—the one that always stuck, the one that she always meant to fix, but never did—Kathryn threw the window open wide. A moist, hot breeze swept into the kitchen, better than no air at all. The tiny house got so stuffy. She inhaled the scent of the clouds in the distance and basil from the window box.
Seven in the morning and already the heat of the day was stifling. She clipped her long, black hair into a sloppy pile atop her head. The breeze moved across her neck, though it provided little relief. Perspiration already formed beneath her breasts, soaking into her tank top. A few drops slid down to the waistband of her cotton skirt. A frayed thread clung to her calf. The hem needed repair—yet another task that would go neglected until she found the time to do it.
Ha, found time As if time could be stored and then forgotten about like a stained copy of a recipe in an old cookbook or that key that once had a purpose, but damned if anyone could remember what it was now. Time wasn’t like that. It rushed past, churning and frothing like rapids. Most days, she struggled to keep her head above water. It’d been hard enough when Jonas had been there to help, when he’d been there to hold her when panic and fear overtook her. Swallowing hard, she dismissed his memory. Not now.
After she lit the wood-burning stove, she rinsed a load of laundry in a bucket of well water, then went out back to hang it. She’d have to keep an eye on the weather and bring in the wash if it rained this afternoon. The screen door slammed behind her on her way inside, arms full of the bedclothes she’d aired overnight. She folded them and set them on the counter.
From behind a bowed cabinet door, she pulled the cornmeal, oil and salt. Tired of johnnycakes, she cast a glance at the sourdough starter on the counter. Best to save that, her sense of frugality warned. Marcus’ birthday was next month. She’d squirreled away some sugar and cinnamon. He’d be so excited when he woke to the scent of fresh sticky buns. Kathryn smiled to herself. Eleven years old already. Life marched on regardless of the adversities surrounding it.
“Momma?”
Speak of the devil.
Good morning, baby. How’d you sleep?”
Good.” He yawned and stretched, sinking into a chair at the table.
They ate breakfast and she sent Marcus to do his chores while she packed the cart for market. Fresh produce and the item most in demand—homemade sour mash whiskey. It’d been a good summer. Lots of sunshine with nearly the perfect amount of rain. The same could not be said for past summers, not to mention it’d taken her two growing seasons to figure out how to tend a vegetable patch. Much of what she’d learned was thanks to her neighbor, Roy.
Come on, Marcus,” she yelled, tying her wide-brimmed hat under her chin.
The boy sped out the door, clothed only in a pair of shorts—no shirt, no shoes. His golden skin glistened in the sun, his usually unruly hair wet and slicked back.
Have you lost your mind?” she asked.
It’s too hot today. Besides, Sam and me are going to the pond to swim. I don’t need no shoes.”
First of all, it’s ‘Sam and I are going to the pond.’ And you think you don’t need any shoes. However, I say you do so you will go back inside and dress properly or so help me I’ll leave you at home.”
The dark cloud that sat above his brow more and more often these days blackened his features but he didn’t argue. When he emerged from the house his feet were shod in grubby sneakers and he wore a dingy t-shirt.
Thank you. Now let’s go, please.”
She picked up the handle and Marcus pushed at the back to get the wooden cart moving. Along the two-mile walk, Kathryn met up with other neighbors headed in the same direction. At the junction of three small farming communities, the marketplace—more of a happening than a locale—was the place to be on the second and fourth Saturday of each month. She waved hello to Susannah, the local apothecary and hostess to male travelers, old Sampson, who sold cotton yarn and thread, and of course Roy.
Roy walked next to his mule with a plodding gait until he caught sight of Kathryn. Jogging up beside her, he took the cart handle from her. “Allow me, Miss Kate.”
Oh, you don’t have to,” she said, but didn’t object too strenuously. She took the mule’s lead from her neighbor and handed it to Marcus. What harm was there in letting Roy play the gentleman? Peeking under the tarp, she saw his cart brimmed with contraband. Oil and firearms from the Republic of Texas, and coal, spices and tequila from south of the border. Since the attacks twelve years ago and the subsequent collapse of the United States, the Reformer siege had cut off supply lines to the former states that surrounded the Gulf of Mexico, now known as Gulfland—or No Man’s Land as the locals called it. It was the Reformers’ attempt at choking the region into submission.
You’ve been mingling with privateers,” she said.
Me?” He gave her a sly grin. “Never. I found this stuff by the side of the road.”
Of course he had. Roy was the kind of man who knew how to get things. Anything…for the right price.
Marcus,” the man barked, “you’re getting bigger every day.”
Yes sir.”
Your birthday’s next month, right?”
Yes sir.”
I just might have something for you. And for you.” He turned to Kathryn, pulling from his cart a package wrapped in cloth and fastened with string.
You shouldn’t have.” She covered her mouth with one hand. “Thank you.”
My pleasure.”
May I open it now?”
Heck, yeah.”
Her fingers worked the crude knots to reveal a carved plastic comb, a sewing needle, a small glass bottle and a pot of some kind of balm. She uncorked the bottle and inhaled. Coconut oil. “Oh Roy, thank you, but this is too much. How can I ever return this kind of favor?”
Nervous laughter shook his thin frame. “Don’t think nothin’ of it. I found those by the side of the road too.”
Well, it’s a beautiful gift. Thank you.”
You can use the wrapping as a scarf. The coconut stuff’s for your hair and skin, the other’s made from honey and beeswax. I think it’s for your lips.”
And who told you that? The bush by the side of the road?” she teased.
He twittered again.
Though he didn’t want to take payment for the items, she slipped him a pint of whiskey to show her gratitude.
Kathryn found a place near the pond to set up her cart so she could keep an eye on Marcus while he fished and swam. The other children, ones with horses or mules to draw their family carts, had beaten him there and were taking flying leaps from the rope swing.
A pop of gunfire caught her attention. She scanned the woods for Reformer troops or Resistance soldiers, but it was just some kids taking shots at a squirrel. She mopped her brow and her bosom with as much modesty as she could. Roy’s gaze followed her as usual, a fact she’d learned to live with but one that still unsettled her. Ready to get out of the heat and Roy’s line of sight, she set about making her trades for the day.
She’d prioritized the goods she needed in her mind. Firewood, cotton yarn and a spool of thread, clove oil, wheat flour and cream.
Hey ya, Sampson.” She carried a bushel of strawberries and a gallon of whiskey over to the old man’s cart. Despite being in his early seventies, he was still hearty and strong.
Good day to you, Miss Kate. You look fresh as a daisy.”
Very sweet of you. Not true, but very sweet.”
His dark skin crinkled around the edges of his eyes as he laughed. “Let me help you with that.”
He took the strawberries and poured them into a plastic crate, then placed an empty gallon bottle, thread and ten skeins of yarn into her baskets.
Thanks for returning the bottle. I’ll refill it for you for next month.”
Much obliged. Anything else I can get for you?” he asked.
A quarter cord of firewood. Would it be too much trouble to deliver it tomorrow?”
Sampson patted his old mare. “No trouble at all.”
Thank you.” She bussed his cheek and picked up her baskets.
The morning turned to afternoon with more socializing and bartering. Her face had begun to sting from the sun and sweat, but she’d completed her shopping. Time to collect her boy and head home. She found Marcus dozing under a birch tree. The four sun grannies he’d caught lay gutted and bound together next to him. A sigh lowered her shoulders. She’d never get the scent of fish out of his clothes.
Since he was too heavy for her to pick up anymore, she ran a hand over his freckled cheek. “Time to go home, baby.”
His green eyes fluttered open. “Mommy.”
Just a small, breathy term of endearment, but to Kathryn, it meant the world. When he woke up enough to realize what he was saying, he’d call her “Mom” or “Momma”—or “Mother” if she annoyed him, but inside the haze of sleep she could still catch a glimpse of the little boy behind his rush to grow up. She brushed his hair off his forehead. With her dark coloring and his father’s startling eyes, her son’s beauty never ceased to amaze her.
Let’s go home, baby boy.”
“’Kay.” He yawned and scrambled to his feet.
Since it was much lighter than when they’d set out, she let him ride home in the cart. Once back at the farm, he bounded into the vegetable patch to do the weeding, clearly refreshed by his nap. Kathryn envied his energy. Though her back ached and her head pounded, she had no time to rest. A long drink of well water slaked her thirst and revitalized her a bit. While she made supper, she worked on canning the last of the berries and added to her stash of canned goods. A survey of the larder gave her something akin to peace, for the moment at least. They’d have plenty to eat this winter.
Marcus,” she called him to the table.
The screen door slammed, announcing his arrival. “Smells good.”
Yes, the fish you caught fried up nicely. Go wash up, please.”
The boy’s chest swelled with pride. Ever since his father had been gone, Marcus did his best to emulate what he could remember of the man. One thing Jonas had always been good at was fishing.
They ate dinner while Kathryn read to him from one of his favorite books, Treasure Island. If he’d heard the story once, he’d heard it a thousand times, but he never tired of it. Sad would be the day when he no longer thrilled at the adventures of Jim Hawkins and Long John Silver. Or Robinson Crusoe for that matter. The novels were some of the only things she’d managed to take with her from the old country.
The chapter and their meal finished, she sent him to his bedroom to change into his pajamas. At the rate he was growing, she’d have to knit him another tunic this winter.
As the moon rose in the night sky, she kissed his brow and wished him sweet dreams. Marcus didn’t protest much and soon the sound of snores carried from the bedroom—charming her in the way only a child’s snores could.
Then, and only then, did she allow herself to ease into her rocking chair by the oil lamp. After lighting the wick, she poured herself two fingers of whiskey, a nightly ritual that included praying for Jonas. If the man were still alive, she prayed for his safe return one day. If he’d met his end, she prayed his soul was at rest. Even after five years, she didn’t know what to believe. He wasn’t the kind of man who abandoned his family, but she didn’t like to think that he’d died trying to save them either.
We’re doing well, Jonas,” she said to the darkness outside her window. A rustle and hushed voices contradicted her.
Goddamn it,” she swore under her breath. Uninvited guests were never a good thing in Gulfland. Grabbing the lamp, she jumped to her feet and fetched the flare gun and shotgun from the safe in the kitchen. Out back, she set off one flare and loaded the double barrel. Deliberate, quiet footsteps carried her to the front of the house. She got the drop on three men—two white, one Hispanic.
You fellas lost?” she asked.
They turned to her, each wearing a sneer. The two white guys were tall, thick and looked a bit inbred, with sloping foreheads and noses too small for their faces. They could be brothers. The Hispanic man was shorter but no less beefy. They all smelled like a spittoon, or maybe more like a urinal.
You got no business here,” she went on. “If you want to get out of here with only the holes in your body the good lord gave you, I suggest you leave, now.”
Simmer down, missy. We’re just looking for some hospitality, that’s all. We can make it worth your while,” the tallest one spoke. Even in the dim light, she could tell he was built like a brick shithouse.
Sorry. There’s only enough for me and the mister.” Her shotgun jerked toward Jonas’ old pair of mud boots, which she kept on the porch for just such an occasion.
Another sneer. “What kind of man lets his woman come out to face three strangers like us?”
He can tell light work when he sees it.”
At this they laughed.
And in case y’all are too stupid to notice, that flare tells my neighbors there are some unwanted visitors here.”
Brick Shithouse took a few steps toward her. “I’m betting none of them things is true.”
Well, believe this—” She cocked the shotgun. “I’ll unload both barrels if you take one more step.”
The man studied her face, crossing his arms over his massive chest. Kathryn’s heart pounded its way into her throat. If they didn’t leave, she knew she could drop one, maybe two of them, but that left the third one to contend with while she reloaded. And where the hell was Roy?
I suppose I’m inclined to believe you,” Shithouse said. “We’ll be on our way.”
She didn’t reply but stood inert, frozen to her spot on the lawn as she watched them slowpoke their way down the dirt path and toward Sampson’s farm. The man’s pit bulls would eat them alive if they decided to drop in on him.
Shaking, she lowered herself to the porch steps and fought the urge to vomit. The clip clop of hooves announced Roy’s approach. He looked comical, a Tec-9 strapped to his chest, riding up on his little mule, the beast galloping as fast as her stubby legs would carry her. Kathryn’s knight in shining armor on his steed—not exactly as she dreamed him.
You all right, Kate?” he asked.
Yeah, just some drifters. I ran them off already.” She wiped her forehead. “What the hell took you so long?”
Roy dismounted his less than noble steed. “I was—I was in the outhouse.”
Oh. Well, there’s nothing to worry about now.”
Looking around, he ran a hand through his dishwater-brown hair. “If you want, I’ll stay out here for a couple hours so you can get some rest.”
Go home, Roy. It’s fine.” She stood and straightened her skirt.
Really, I’ll stay a while.”
Suit yourself.”
She went into the house to put away the shotgun. The fact that she and Marcus could’ve been gang raped and murdered by the time he’d shown up gnawed at her. And now he wanted to play tough guy? Kathryn took a steadying breath. Though she tried to be annoyed with him, she couldn’t muster the energy. Instead, she brewed a pot of tea and brought it out to him.
Is that the tea set I gave you for Christmas?” he asked.
It is. I only bring it out when I have special company.”
Thanks.” He grinned up at her. His expression reminded her of a runty puppy she’d seen at the pound as a little girl. Hard to stay angry with a runty puppy.
Good night, Roy. Thanks for standing guard.” She gave him a quick hug and headed inside.
Good night, Kate.”
When sunrise came, she found Roy still there, asleep in the porch swing, snuggling with his machine gun.

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Amused and Amazed (Collection) by Willa Okati

action/adventure, alternate Earth, ebook, erotic, GLBT, m/m, paranormal, Publisher: Changeling Press, suspense/mystery, Willa Okati 1 Comment

Amused and Amazed (Collection)
by Willa Okati

Changeling Press

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60521-545-7

Drag Queen of Faerie: The course of true love just won’t run smooth for hunk-next-door Will Taylor, who’s in search of that special someone. All that focused energy attracts the attention of Queen Mab’s lesser-well-known cousin Mabbey, the Drag Queen of the Faeries.

Valentine’s Vow: Friends and casual bed buddies Thom and Ryan don’t buy into the whole “true love” spiel. They have a good time together. Why would they want more? Luckily for this clueless pair, St. Valentine shows them how to appreciate a good thing when they’ve got it.

Independence Day: The boys are back — and they’re at it again. Ryan and Thom have returned for some hot Fourth of July action, but their newfound romance may just hit the skids when it comes to coming out as a couple.

Straight Man and Coffee Guy: Straight Man is anything but. He just doesn’t have a sense of humor. And in a city with so many superheroes there’s no one left to rescue, his power is attracting the freaks — like Coffee Guy from the diner across the road, who has the power of the never-ending cup. Misfits in a mad, mad, mad world, they’re pretty much perfect for each other.

Chapter One

Will Taylor knew he’d let himself in for a world of hurt the moment his date of the evening made a move to grab his crotch and punched him in the balls instead.
“Jesus!” He doubled forward against the steering wheel, his eyes watering. Tried to speak, but his voice came out as a disturbingly soprano squeak. He coughed, and tried again. “What are you trying to do, Lewis? Make sure I never join the breeders?”
“Oh, hey, I’m sorry, Wally.” Lewis gave him a loose, easy grin and slid his hand upward, caressing Will’s cock. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, baby?”
Will bit his tongue. I’m nobody’s baby, and hello, hand in exciting new places! You don’t even get my name right, but you want to get up close and personal with my dick? I don’t think so.
Wheezing, he eased back and gently slid Lewis’ hand off the inseam of his pants. “Hey, you’re going a little fast there, don’t you think?”
“Wally, sugar, ease up.” Lewis’ snaky little hand slid forward again, rubbing the inside of Will’s thigh. “Come on. It’s a gorgeous night. See? Full moon in the sky. Clear as a bell. You can see all the stars.”
You can hear all the clichés… Will thought sourly.
Lewis’ hand toyed at the zipper of Will’s jeans. He’d known he shouldn’t have worn those jeans. Especially not on a blind date. They were old and worn, sure, but that just meant they clung to his ass and outlined his package more than a new, stiff pair would have.
And speaking of stiff… no action in that department, despite Lewis’ busy little explorer fingers. His cock lay quiet and meek as a little garter snake. Come on! Will scolded himself. Lewis is right. Beautiful night… hot — okay, semi-hot — man groping you. Get into the game, here!
“Maybe you’re right.” He tried to loosen his shoulders, shaking them out a little. “Just take it a little easier, okay? We barely know each other.”
“I know how to fix that, Hot Stuff.” Lewis’ tongue snaked out to flicker across his lips. “You interested?”
Will regarded him with a combination of horror and fascination. Okay, so the guy looked a little like a mix between an axe and a German shepherd, but what the hell, right? What could one little kiss hurt?
“Okay,” he agreed, his voice dropping just a little. “Let’s try the kiss.”
“Now you’re talkin’, baby.” Lewis unbuckled his seat belt and slid across the distance parting them. His fingers stroked up and down the length of Will’s still uninterested cock. “Let’s get things moving.”
His mouth met Will’s.
Will froze. Okay, he knew better, after twenty-nine years, than to expect stars and bells and whistles from a first kiss.
But was it too much to ask for no slobber? Or to hope for someone who didn’t have the enthusiasm of a shepherd just told he was free to have his way with the whole flock? Because once he got the green light, Lewis turned into an octopus with a wiggling, floppy worm of a tongue. A busy, squirmy worm of a tongue. A tongue that…
Oh… God, Will thought desperately. The guy kissed like a happy puppy. Lick, lick, lick everywhere. He put his hands on Lewis’ shoulders, pressing him down. Sweet Lord willing, he’d let Will take a little control back.
Unfortunately, Lewis took that as a sign that his happening action was appreciated. He lunged forward, devouring Will’s mouth like a prime steak. Will tried to move with him, to put his arms around the man’s wiggling middle, to get his cock to do anything but lie there like a lump, but no luck.
“Oh, yeah, baby,” Lewis pulled back to murmur. “This is so hot.”
Right out of your wet dreams. And my nightmares. Damn, you kiss like a fifth-grader sucking face behind the bleachers.
Lewis rubbed harder at Will’s cock, pinching with his fingers. Then he stuck his tongue into the middle of Will’s mouth and set up an eager stroking. Will’s cock twitched once. Took you long enough! Come on, you haven’t gotten laid in what, months? Time to play, boy!
Slowly, his cock began to stiffen. Lewis made appreciative growling noises against his mouth and kept up the probing and poking with his tongue.
A little too excitedly.
Tripping off Will’s gag reflex.
Choking, Will lunged backwards, hit his head against the car window, and bit down hard, squarely in the middle of that questing tongue.
An earsplitting howl filled the car. “Howwy shid!” Lewis reared back, covering his mouth with both his hands. “What kin’ of fugging fweak aw oo?”
“Oh, crap!” Will leaned forward, wiping off his own mouth with one frantic hand and reaching for Lewis with the other. “Did I break the skin?”
“Bweak the skin? Oo neawy bit my ung off, oo astard!” Still covering his mouth with one hand, Lewis fumbled for the door handle. “Sick pwick! Cad even ged it up!”
“Hey!” Will reared back, offended. “Since when does it mean anything if I don’t get off by being felt up like a piece of meat?”
“Asshowe!” Lewis found the door handle and jerked it open. He scrambled out like his tush was on fire. “I’b gedding the fug out of hewe!”
“Good! Go!” Will leaned across the seat to yank the door shut. “I won’t be calling you back!”
Lewis turned around. Blood smeared his mouth. He looked like a homely vampire. “Caw me? The hew wiv that!” he spluttered. “I’m teawing youw number up and fwushing it!”
“Good for you!” Will yelled, slamming the door shut.
Lewis flipped him off. “Fug you, Wawwy!”
And he was gone.
Well… damn.
One more blind date, down the tubes in the most spectacular manner ever.
Will sat in silence for a long minute as Lewis stomped away to his own car on the other side of the lot. Great. Just great. And that had been going well!
Okay. Only sort of well. But they’d had a decent dinner, even if Lewis didn’t have any idea what wine went with the really (Will winced) pricey surf-and-turf he’d ordered. And they’d gotten along mostly okay, except for the part where Lewis didn’t get any of his jokes. But he’d thought Will was hot, right? What with all the groping and the wiggle-worm tongue action?
Or maybe, Will sighed, Lewis was just as lonely and desperate as himself.
Fuck. He turned the key in the ignition and listened to his ancient engine rumble to life. After a moment, he turned it off. Groaning, he rolled down his window and let the cool night air wash over his face.
He gazed out, up at the stars. It wasn’t fair. He thought he was a good man. All he wanted was someone to love. Weren’t there any decent (and, yeah, hot) gay men out there who could love a simple, guy-next-door type like him?
Sure there were.
And wishing on stars actually worked.
He rolled his window back up, turned the key in the ignition, revved up the engine, and pulled out of his nicely secluded parking space to start the long drive home.
Alone.
Far away and miles above, a deliciously divine creature in sparkly gold spandex sat up from his bed on a particularly fluffy cloud and cocked a gloved hand against one exquisitely pointed ear.
Was that a… wish he’d just heard?
Mabbey, Drag Queen of the Faeries, grinned to himself.
Now this one could be fun!

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