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Trust is Sacred Teaser Tuesday

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Trust is Sacred cover

(Medically Necessary 3)

 

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Steamy

Date Published: December 13, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

Without trust, nothing is sacred. Not even long-held beliefs.

Oliver’s terrible secret is eating both himself and his would-be mate
alive. He and Amir have been apart for three months, and absence indeed
makes the heart grow fonder. Unfortunately, there’s terror, pain, and
deceit lying between them.

Amir thinks purging and confession are medically necessary for spiritual
and physical well-being. Oliver will stop at almost nothing to hide his
scars.

Can these two be mated in truth or will Oliver’s past and
Amir’s unstated fears push them away before the werewolves’ most
sacred holiday, Winter Solstice?

 

 

Trust is Sacred paperback

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Emily Carrington

 

August

 

In a very real sense, Oliver’s heart hadn’t ached this way in
years. It was a mixture of longing and a sweet promise of eventual
homecoming. He’d just sent his lover away on an airplane, back to New
York. Amir would gather together his staff, choose a new doctor to take over
his practice, and then be back down here to live with Oliver.

To become Oliver’s mate.

Werewolves didn’t have spouses. Except when they did. They also
didn’t have Life Dancers. That was a psychic vampire thing, knowledge
Oliver had gained over the last month. Wolves had mates, a name for their
beloved, the person with whom they wanted to spend the rest of their
lives.

He’d had a mate before. This time would be different. He’d
protect his mate. He’d keep him safe, no matter the cost, and he
wouldn’t allow his nightmares to drive them apart. To shove his lover
toward the singular choice of suicide.

He pulled up in front of Llosgia Maxine’s house, where his heart told
him he belonged. Granted, she hadn’t exactly accepted her title of
alpha, or the duties commensurate with that status change. She would,
though. He had faith. Well, mostly he had faith. Sometimes he worried that
Tilthos Charles’s words would come true and Llosgia Maxine would
choose to take up no title at all.

Except, of course, she’d already claimed Director of Werewolf Watch
for herself. Maybe she couldn’t take on that responsibility
and…

The front door opened and Tilthos Charles stepped out, looking even
stronger than he had the night before, when he’d arrived at Llosgia
Maxine’s and asked for a place for himself and his lover to sleep.
Now, in the dimness of false dawn, the alpha above all alphas
shouldn’t have been able to use his limited vision to see more than a
car approaching. However, that didn’t seem to be the case because he
smiled and waved as if he knew exactly who was arriving.

Oliver considered driving away. He didn’t want to hear the political
answer as to why the Kreisha pack was still allowed to exist after all the
shit three of its members had pulled. Geoffrey Huntington, Noah Travers, and
Josiah Cobb had plotted to drive Tilthos Charles mad. They had made it so
hearing his rightful title had caused him physical and psychic pain.
They’d forced him to attack his lover, Luis. Now, though, surely
Tilthos Charles was coming to tell him they’d been forgiven for some
fucked-up political reason that boiled down to the alpha above all
alphas… what? Didn’t want to kill? That might just be it.

The alpha above all alphas’ soft voice was in his head suddenly. Open
the door, Oliver.

Oliver unlocked the doors. He waited for the alpha above all alphas to sit
beside him, or order him to get out of the car, denying him his
escape.

He acknowledged his expectations had no basis in reality, especially
because everything he’d seen of Tilthos Charles when the leader was in
his right mind was favorable. Still, he didn’t actually know how
Tilthos Charles governed. He was only assuming, based on the one alpha he
knew, that Tilthos Charles might have allowed power to go to his head.

“So uncharitable,” the alpha above all alphas said after
opening the door. He sat in the passenger seat, folded his white cane, the
symbol of his visual impairment, and then buckled himself in. “Feel
free to drive if it will make you less edgy.”

“You’re reading my every thought?” Oliver asked.
He’d assumed his shields were better than that.

“Not quite. You’re not projecting everything, I don’t
think, but you’re very unhappy with me and that carries just
fine.”

Oliver relocked the doors and pulled out of the driveway. “Where are
we going?”

“Somewhere that you can drive and listen without getting us in an
accident would be good.”

Oliver grunted.

To his amazement, the leader of most of the world’s werewolves on
this side of the Atlantic laughed. “You sound like Luis when
he’s unhappy. Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

Oliver couldn’t bring himself to accuse the alpha above all alphas of
any wrongdoing. Instead, he asked, “What happened to the six wolves
who attacked you?”

“Huntington, Travers, and Cobb have been placed with different packs,
separated by quite a bit of geography. Their new alphas reassure me their
movements will be closely observed.”

Oliver turned off Llosgia Maxine’s street and just headed south, away
from Washington, DC. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drive in heavy
traffic and listen. “Why are they still alive?”

“I’m not in the habit of killing every single wolf who’s
tried a coup. There would be considerably fewer wolves in the world if I
exacted that sort of revenge. They’re being watched by three alphas I
trust implicitly and I’m sure these bastards will show their true
colors again. And unlike in baseball, they only get two chances.” He
turned his head away from Oliver. “They’re not the only ones
I’m watching. Kreisha Alexander let this go on right under his nose.
At best, the very best, that makes him not perceptive enough.”

He faced Oliver again. “I’m asking you to keep me informed if
he does anything inappropriate, dangerous, or careless. I don’t order
you because I don’t want to step on your agency that way.”

“Please order me,” Oliver blurted.

That got him a raised eyebrow.

“Kreisha Alexander is in the habit of ordering his wolves not to
share things, good or bad, outside the pack. If I have your order first, and
because you outrank him, I’ll be able to tattletale.” He
grimaced. “That came out more bitter than I anticipated or meant.
I’m sorry.”

Tilthos Charles seemed to have caught onto another part of his speech,
however, because he said, “Is there anything you’re forbidden to
share with me?” There was a growl in his voice.

 

About the Author

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

Contact Links

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

 

 

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Max’s Christmas Bunny Teaser Tuesday

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Billionaire Daddy Doms — Bunny (#1)

 

Erotica / BDSM

Date Published: November 29, 2024

 

 

I never thought Bunny ears and a Bunny tail butt plug would be the start of
a grand adventure.

It’s Christmas, and money’s tight, so I asked the agency for a
new assignment. Still, I didn’t expect to wind up in a gilded Bunny
cage in the home of an eccentric billionaire. While I’ve never met
Daddy Jacob, he knows me — he owns the Agency that sent me out on this
assignment. Now I’m to serve as a Christmas present for a man in his
household — a Christmas present for Max.

I’m not certain how the rest of the week will go, but so far it feels
like Max may just be the perfect Master for me. I have the feeling this
assignment could be the start of the biggest adventure of my life.

 

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Wanda Violet O.

 

Christmas has never been my favorite holiday. Having said that, the job
that had just fallen into my lap — to be a Christmas Bunny for some rich
guy with a pet-play kink — was the best Christmas present ever. The money
was nearly obscene, the anticipation of adventure intense.

This job included the possibility of kinky sex. I had been given the
standard safe word and signed a contract outlining my limits, both hard and
soft. Was it the safest thing I’d ever done? Not in the least. But,
again, the money was good — really, really good. If I was ever going to get
out from under the mountain of medical bills I’d been left with after
the crash that had put me in the hospital for a month and killed my mom, I
had to get drastic.

Now I found myself was sitting on a huge, plush, overstuffed red beanbag in
a very large cage, wearing a headband with bunny ears and a butt plug with a
fluffy bunny tail. The cage had a big red bow wrapped around the middle, and
it sat under a massive Christmas tree covered with sparkling, colored
lights. I had several red and green fleece blankets and soft pillows in the
cage so I was comfortable, but the room was warm to me even though I was
naked.

It was early morning and once I’d readied myself, before I got into
the cage, I’d been told it would be an hour before I’d be
needed. I’d been given an alarm to press if I needed help before the
client came for me, or if I felt threatened. Standard for this type of job
with the agency. It was run by the ultra-wealthy and catered to the
obscenely wealthy. I’d been skeptical when I’d first started,
but the agency had never failed to keep me safe.

None of that meant I wasn’t a bundle of nerves, and getting more
nervous the longer I waited.

Just as I was getting ready to hit the panic button, I heard footsteps
coming. A man wearing black silk pajama pants and nothing else stalked down
the stairs. He had long, shaggy hair, and a heavily muscled, sculpted body,
reminding me of a predator moving through the jungle.

This man was classically handsome, with a strong jaw, straight nose, and
piercing blue eyes. His cheeks were wide and masculine with dark stubble
where he hadn’t yet shaved.

When he turned his head, his gaze landed on me and his movements stopped.
He stared at me for a long time, not moving a muscle except to breathe. When
he finally started moving again, he was focused squarely, intently on me.
“I sincerely hope you’re my Christmas present, little
Bunny.”

I knew better than to speak unless I had permission. It had been drilled
into me from the second I’d been accepted to the program. The clients
the agency served had specific tastes. They tried to match us to clients
with similar tastes, but there was always a learning curve if I were staying
more than a few hours. This job was supposed to last a week and could
seriously bail me out, but I had to follow the rules precisely if I wanted
to get the big payday.

The man knelt in front of my cage to get a better look at me. Those
ice-blue eyes of his seemed to caress me as his gaze roamed over my body.
“Be a good little Bunny. Turn around and present yourself. Stick that
ass up in the air so I can have a look at you.”

I did as I was told without hesitation, presenting myself with my legs
apart, ass in the air, and my chest on the floor. I knew what I looked like
because I’d admired the plush, fluffy rabbit tail butt plug before
getting in the cage.

“Hmm, you are quite the gift, aren’t you?” he said, his
voice a low growl. “Who were you sent for, little Bunny?”

“I’m not sure, Sir. Only that I was to stay in the cage and
await the Master’s pleasure.”

“Ah, Max!” the deep voice called from across the room.

I wanted to turn my head and look behind me but didn’t dare.

“I see you’ve found your present.”

“Daddy Jacob.” Max’s tone was subservient but in a
different way than I’d ever heard before. The man was clearly a
Dominant, but differed to this new man? “She’s
mine?”

“If things work out and she agrees, yes. She’s yours. A gift
from me and Kitten.”

I couldn’t help but shiver at the implication. It was an unusual
sensation between fear and… interest? OK, that was disconcerting. I
didn’t know this man and there was apparently at least one more person
here.

I’m not sure what I expected, but there was a long pause and what Max
said next both hurt and confused me. “Have I done something wrong,
Daddy Jacob?” Where before there was amused interest and a healthy
dose of lust in Max’s voice and his eyes when he’d first looked
at me, now it was devoid of emotion.

“Max…” There was a note of censure between them, as if
Daddy Jacob wasn’t happy with Max.

“But Kitten –”

“Kitten knows you need a pet of your own. She loves you as much as
you love her and Andromeda. So do I.”

This seemed like a private conversation and I felt horribly out of place. I
turned my face to the wall next to where my cage sat and stayed perfectly
still.

There was silence while I heard someone unlocking the cage. The door slid
open with a small squeak. “Come out, little one.”

I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I knew without looking at him I
didn’t want to disobey or ignore Daddy Jacob. Keeping my gaze lowered
and my hands clasped in front of me, I scrambled to do as he’d
ordered.

“Kneel and present yourself, sweet Bunny.”

 

About the Author

Welcome to Wanda Violet O.’s world of bedtime fantasy, where you’ll find a
variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in
extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play… she’s got it all. Come take a look
for yourself!

 

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

 

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Pilgrimage Through the Storm Teaser Tuesday

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Poetry / Prayer

Date Published: Nov 20, 2024

Publisher:  Serapis Bey Publishing

 

“One does not become enlightened by imagining oneself as a figure of
light but by making the darkness conscious.”
 

Carl Jung (1875 – 1961)

 

A deeper level of consciousness can only be birthed from a space of
darkness, the void of all possibility, as all of life has arisen from
nothingness. Such is the paradox of awakening. When you find yourself held
in suspension, and when you are catapulted out of everything you know to be
true, it is easy to forget the truth of who you really are.

However, no matter the outer experiences, your innermost essence is
unchangeable.

A sense of isolation and separation are undoubtedly facets of the dark
night, but in reality you are never alone. Many people have walked this path
before you, there are those who are currently engulfed in its midst and
those who will follow.

The pieces in this book landed as my own journey through the wilderness.
Each fragment is a lived experience, and each lived experience is a
mentor.

I offer you these words as your companion while you transition through your
own inner shadows…may they provide comfort as you move through the
deepest levels of release and find your way home, to a self-compassion you
never knew existed. 

 

EXCERPT

Introduction: The Womb

My eyes open with an unanticipated suddenness. I awaken with a fortress of pillows around me. Safe and secure in the silent darkness. There is a drop in my stomach, I remember. The self-created sanctuary of the womb a thing of the past. A dream shattered to pieces. The plug is out of the socket. I am switched off, absent from myself. Vanished, without a trace.

 Did I ever exist? A deep detachment, an incongruence. A profound disharmony between the world inside me and the world around me. My skin is ripping at the seams, something inside me is desperate to get out. How will I lay this demon to rest? Feelings of fear grip my body and hold me hostage. Enveloped in a state of temporary paralysis; I am caged. The new day brings a promise of endless possibilities. I decide to return the gift unopened. Today’s forecast; winds of despondency. 

The womb beckons me – again – but it is time to face another day. There are things that need to be addressed. Things which have to be done, no matter what my circumstance. Sunrise, an order that must be obeyed. The mundane rituals bear the load of climbing a mountain. I wonder, is the thought of doing something more of a burden than actually doing it? And yet, these daily undertakings throw me a life ring; prevent me from drowning. These banal everyday responsibilities; the key to my sanity. The ‘humanness’ of my situation, both a blessing and a curse. 

As I make a cup of tea, my eyes blankly rest on the world beyond the window. The barren trees and haunting, lonely skies are in commune with my reality. Autumn has come and gone with not so much as a whisper. The jewelled colours now faded leave me with a hollow heart. I am smothered in hues of grey, inhabiting this spartan landscape of gloom. Even the bitter chill that seeps into my bones does not wake me from this century old slumber. Yes, autumn has abandoned me with not so much as a goodbye. I have abandoned myself, with not so much as a goodbye. A subliminal sadness only magnified by the disappearance of the sun. Like a hamster in a cage, in a nomadic frenzy, I senselessly move from one thing to the next, leaving behind a trail of unfinished tasks. And then I pause, frozen, the all too familiar feeling of worry swoops in unannounced and bullies me into submission. A crippling vacuum shadows me all day. It seems the entire world is going about their business and I am forced to remain stationary. I stand with my open wound; reticent in its nature. 

Yes, I exist, but in name only; I am not living. I switch on the television, hoping the images on the screen will somehow reconnect me. But to no avail. The sounds that filter through the radio have the same effect. I remain, quite simply, totally disconnected. 

What gave me pleasure, is now reduced to nothing but a chore. What I looked forward to, now makes me want to hide in a box. However, I continue to put one foot in front of the other. I will get through today; as I did yesterday. Dawn will keep its promise tomorrow and arise as it always does. Perhaps, this is what my Beloved calls, unconditional love.

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Beneath the Skin Teaser Tuesday

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(Empire of the Sky 5)

 

Steampunk Romance

Date Published: 11/29/24

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

Soulmates? Or simply lovers? Selena and Nancy hope their paramours can see
beneath the skin.

 

Selena Whiteheart has her hands full. The malignant witch, Lady Neva, has
kidnapped her lovers, Jacob McCleary and Captain Kit Colby. While keeping
her Home Office handler, Harry Kincaid, satisfied in every way, Selena vows
to rescue them, but first she must contend with a mesmerised assassin.

Meanwhile Nancy Lea, envoy in human form of the goblin king, Mon Ilson,
Emperor of Space, has failed in her bid to secure peace. Queen Victoria has
sent her packing with a flea in her ear. With her lover and protector,
Captain Jaimee Dalgliesh, she returns to the moon to report. With three days
to kill, Nancy teaches Jaimee the joys of weightless lovemaking. However,
Jaimee comes face to face with a real goblin. Can he overcome his visceral
disgust and love the soul beneath Nancy’s stolen skin?

The soul of Agent Felicity Cressy, murdered by Lady Neva, finds a safe
haven in Nancy’s mind. Will Mon Ilson return her to her body, and what does
he expect in return?

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Mikala Ash

 

Selena Whiteheart

1867 — A Vixen in the Mist

 

I am a duplicitous witch.

Like Janus, the mythological god of beginnings and endings, I present
different faces to the world. I began as Marjorie Fletcher, a naïve
country virgin murdered for my body by hideous goblins. My homeless soul
found refuge in the mind of Cressida Troy, with whom I fell in love.
Inevitably I also lost my heart to her fiancé, Jacob McCleary, and I
experienced lovemaking for the first time through Cressida. Now, as Selena
Whiteheart, human agent of Mon Ilson, the goblin king and self-styled
Emperor of Space, and owner of the empire’s greatest airborne gambling
and bawdy house, I love the handsome and brave Captain Kit Colby.

I stood at my fireplace staring at the likenesses of Jacob and Kit inside a
gold locket. I’d drawn both myself, and think I captured their
essential differences rather well. Jacob, the former schoolteacher, whose
intelligent gaze signified his thoughtful and considerate nature both in and
out of bed, had given me my first experience of lovemaking, albeit
vicariously. He was now estranged from Cressida Troy after the murder of
Fleur Cumberland, which I had orchestrated. Kit, on the other hand, was a
lusty warrior, a decorated hero of the savage air war against Prussia and
the Hungarian Empire. As befitting his martial nature, Kit was both forceful
and deliberate in his lovemaking.

I was lost for a few moments in a warm memory of passionate kisses,
entwined tongues, probing fingers and hard, thrusting cocks before a wave of
fear coursed through me. Tears threatened to flow as I traced their
images.

I was not alone in my office. I was dimly aware of the earnest little man
jabbering about an invention of his. I didn’t care about Mr. Frasier.
I was immersed in a sea of despair, and the peril my charade placed not just
Jacob and Kit in, but me also.

Both Jacob and Kit were captives of Lady Neva Talbot-Rhys, a powerful witch
hell-bent on killing Queen Victoria. Lady Neva held the Queen responsible
for her lover’s death during England’s devastating military
reprisal against Prussia. I understood her wanting revenge. I felt the same
about her.

I had to get them back. Lady Neva was a merciless malevolent maniac,
capable of wholesale slaughter — I’d witnessed that firsthand. My
heart chilled at the thought of what horrors Jacob and Kit were suffering at
her evil hands.

I wanted desperately to believe they still lived. Why else would Lady Neva
kidnap them but to use them for some nefarious purpose?

Jacob had been sent by Mon Ilson to add weight to his envoy Nancy
Lea’s mission to arrange a demonstration of his ultimate weapon. Lady
Neva had stumbled upon Jacob during her search for Kit, and being a skilled
mind reader, she would have instantly known Jacob’s value. That would
have been a surprise to her, no doubt. But she was not one to miss an
opportunity to cause the Queen even greater problems. She had intended to
kidnap Nancy Lea as well, but fortunately she had escaped. I believed Lady
Neva had probably gone to Europe to sell Jacob’s knowledge to one of
Britain’s host of enemies. If that was the case, then Mon
Ilson’s carefully laid plans could be wrecked and chaos would ensue,
resulting in the deaths of millions. Frustratingly, our overseas agents had
not detected any sign of Lady Neva. She had disappeared like a vixen in the
mist.

I shuddered and took in a ragged breath of despair at what she would do to
Kit. Unlike Jacob, who had political value, poor Kit she could torture at
her leisure. Kit had become the object of her revenge after thwarting her
plan to use the Prince of Wales to kill the Queen.

For the time being, as Selena Whiteheart, I do the bidding of the goblin
king, the most powerful witch in history. For the moment our goals aligned.
He too wanted Lady Neva found, for her determination to kill Queen Victoria
threatened to derail his own plans of conquest.

My service to Mon Ilson requires a significant amount of time and energy,
for I must hide my true intentions from him by burying them deep within my
consciousness. I hate Mon Ilson. His goblins had murdered me, and then
stolen my body from the grave. While I obeyed his commands, I secretly
supported his overthrow by Cressida Troy, now his empress, another human
with another name: Nil Ilson.

Cressida had saved my soul. Or rather my nascent magical abilities had led
me to her, and her mind became my temporary safe haven. Then my magical
powers were like a seed, waiting for water and heat. Unwittingly Mon Ilson
supplied those himself, for when he read Cressida’s mind, he had
detected me and recognised my potential as a servant. Like Pandora he opened
the box of magic and let me absorb as much as I could hold.

To regain my body, I had enchanted both Cressida and Mon Ilson into
believing they loved each other and convinced her to prove her loyalty to
him so he would return my soul to my body. As my puppet, Cressida killed the
most powerful human witch, Fleur Cumberland. Mon Ilson repaid me by
returning my soul to my body and sending me to Earth to prepare the way for
his conquest. I had confessed my perfidy to Cressida, hoping she would work
with me to resist him. Cressida married Mon Ilson, and adopted the name Nil
Ilson, and the title Empress of Space.

Mon Ilson’s plan to overthrow the British Empire required the
co-opting of Queen Victoria. He meant to use the vast infrastructure of her
empire to take over the world with hardly a fight. So, for the time being
I’d be his enthusiastic cat’s paw until I could help Nil Ilson,
Cressida, defeat him.

But first I have to find Jacob and Kit.

“Ahem. Er. Miss Whiteheart?”

The clearing throat and hesitant voice reminded me of Mr. Frasier’s
presence. I closed the locket and turned to face the untidily dressed,
red-haired little man. Before I’d lost myself in my own thoughts,
he’d been enthusiastically engaged in a technical monologue about his
new invention.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, returning the locket to my bosom.
“Pray continue.”

He cleared his throat again, and after taking a deep breath began to list
the benefits of his new gadget, a tamperproof roulette wheel.

“It will kill any accusation of fraudulence,” he had
begun.

As if the honesty of my tables had ever been in question. The idea that I
would be accused of cheating was insulting, but I continued to listen with
feigned interest.

His name was David Frasier, a middle-aged inventor and factory owner from
Edinburgh. He’d been introduced to me by Special Branch agent and my
latest lover, Harry Kincaid. After making the introductions, Harry had
excused himself, saying he had to send a message to his club.

That was a lie. The murky shade of Harry’s aura had given him away. I
knew he was listening at the door. He’d asked me to be nice to Frasier
as he was trying to recruit him as a spy. He visited the continent often,
doing business with some prominent politicians and industrialists. The
introduction to me would put Frasier in Harry’s debt.

It was for that reason I resigned myself to listen without objection to the
fellow’s insulting proposition.

Frasier stopped in mid-sentence. He had been enthusiastically describing
his contrivance, something to do with building a miniature mechanical
computational device invented by Charles Babbage, when his face had become
flushed, and beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. His hands started
to tremble, and his final words ended in a slur. His aura had, in an
instant, transformed into a seething pulsating muddy blob, the colours
bubbling through each other in a roiling mass. A moment before it had been
quite normal, nervous perhaps, and very excited, but that is not unusual in
men meeting me for the first time, and after all, he was trying to make a
sale. The transition had been so abrupt, so unnatural, I reached out to his
mind to see the cause. I sensed despair, and most of all, mind-numbing fear.
Hardly a coherent thought peeked through. The one that did was
unmistakable.

“Mr. Frasier, don’t do this!” I put a suppression spell
over him. “Whatever it is, I can help.”

 

About the Author

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

 

Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

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

 

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Falcon Teaser Tuesday

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Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: November 22, 2024

 

It’s all fun and games until my ex shows up from the dead.

 

Gina: For over a year I’ve lived in fear, a monster terrorizing me
within the gates of the Grim Road MC compound. The club took care of the
physical problem, but demons still ride me hard. I’ve learned to trust
the people I interact with on a daily basis, I’m still too anxious to
explore the compound unless I’m with one of the old ladies or Lemon.
Or Falcon… He always seems to be there when the fear threatens to
swallow me whole. He’s protective and caring, and he takes me for
rides on his Harley. Which he had painted pink because he found out I wanted
to ride a pink bike. How many men in a motorcycle club did that?

Falcon: What happened to Gina at the hands Grim Road, myself included, is
something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. My only chance at
redemption is to help her heal and feel safe again. I’m too old for
her, but I can’t seem to care. I want to protect her, but I’m
watching her to an unhealthy degree, waiting for the times she needs someone
to bring her back to reality and assure her she’s safe. Until the day
she invites me inside her sanctuary without a chaperone. I’d never
take advantage of Gina. Not intentionally. Then again, I never expected my
ex fiancé to come back from the dead.

 

Falcon tablet

EXCERPT

Falcon

The soft cry coming from Gina’s bedroom window damned near broke my
heart. She did fine most days, when she had the girls to distract her. But
at night, when she was alone in that house, nightmares visited her
regularly. Those nightmares were partly my fault and that was why I
couldn’t let go of this need to see she was safe. Which is why I was
currently sitting underneath her open window outside her house. At one in
the morning.

Yeah. That wasn’t creepy or anything. Thank God she still stayed in
the compound. I knew she wasn’t really comfortable here, but she had
nowhere else to go. Though she typically stayed in her house or in the
fenced-in backyard, she would very occasionally leave the compound to
grocery shop or whatever. She never went anywhere inside the compound by
herself other than to drive from her house to the main gate and back.

Another soft cry followed by a small sob echoed in the night. It was a
scared, lonely sound, much like that of a child lost from its parents in a
crowd. Among the myriad night noises in the wildlife reserve where our
compound was nestled, she sounded like a caged animal too scared to
fight.

With a shake of my head, I dug my phone out from my back pocket and moved
away from the window slightly behind a shrub and called her. When I heard
her phone play a trilling notification, I moved farther away so she
couldn’t hear me speaking through her open window. She answered on the
fourth ring.

“H-hello?”

“Hey, Gina. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I — no. You didn’t. Falcon?”

“Yeah. Probably shoulda led with that, huh?” I tried to make
fun of myself to distract her. I knew from months of watching over her and
listening to her nightmares she was always shaken when she woke.

“Sorry. I should have checked to see who was calling before I
answered.” She sounded a little more awake and even managed a small
laugh.

“I’m really sorry. I thought I saw your light on and thought
something might be wrong. About the time you answered, I realized it was
Rocket and Lemon’s place.”

There was a short pause and I thought I heard her shuffling around. Maybe
sliding the covers from her body so she could sit on the edge of the bed.
And, Goddamn, that image needed to stay the fuck outta my head!

“You were… checking on me?”

“Well, yeah.” I hoped I sounded sheepish and embarrassed but I
wasn’t that great an actor. But if it pulled her out of her
nightmares, I’d suffer through it. Gladly. “I guess I
was.”

She took in a shuddering breath before speaking again. “Because of
what happened?”

I had to be careful about my answer here. I didn’t want her thinking
I felt obligated to look after her, but I didn’t want to scare her
either. God knew she had plenty of reasons to be scared of me.

“Because you need someone looking after you and I kind of enjoy the
job.”

“You don’t have to, you know. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will. You’re strong. You need time to heal and to
learn to trust yourself again.”

“I didn’t expect you to say that.”

“Why not? What should I have said?” I kept my voice neutral and
conversational. I wanted her to keep talking so she could settle her mind. I
always managed to find a way to get through to her when she had a nightmare.
I don’t know if she suspected I was watching her or not, but whenever
I’d hear her crying or calling out in fear, I’d send a text. Or
knock on her door. Or call. If she’d noticed the timing, she
hadn’t said anything. Positive or negative.

“I thought you’d tell me I’d have to learn to trust you.
Why would you think I didn’t trust myself?”

I had to smile. I’d led her straight where I wanted her to go and
she’d done so without hesitation. “Because you already trust
everyone in this club. What you don’t trust is your own judgment
telling you to trust us.”

She was silent so long I thought I might have overplayed my hand. Then her
soft voice asked, “How do you know I trust you?”

“Because, when Rocket and Lemon said the club would pay for a place
outside the compound if you wanted to get away from us, you
declined.”

“Yeah,” she said on a sigh. “I suppose you’re
right. I just couldn’t stand the thought of being out on my own again.
I was obviously not very good on my own the first time.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Gina. Once he got you back here, it
was easy for him to make you feel like you didn’t have a choice. You
know better now and you choose to stay.”

“I never really thought about it that way. I couldn’t get past
having to be on my own. And Lemon… well…”

“What about her? You know she’s solidly in your corner.
Right?”

“That’s just it, Falcon. I do know. She didn’t make
excuses for anyone. She didn’t doubt anything I told her. She believed
everything and I was quick to tell her you guys thought I was willing
when… you know… when you…” Even now she
couldn’t say it, and I wanted to claw out my own heart.

“Yeah, honey. I know. We’re all ashamed of that, even if we
didn’t know. We could have taken the time to talk to you more. Or at
all, really.” I gave a self-deprecating snort of laughter. “More
importantly, we could have made sure you knew you weren’t in danger
from any of us. All you had to do was tell someone you wanted away from
Hammer and we’d have removed you from the situation and asked
questions later. We didn’t make it clear so that’s on
us.”

“I guess,” she said softly. “Seems like both of us were
victims of Hammer’s deception.”

“I’d say that’s a fair statement.”

I heard sounds on her end as she moved from her bedroom. I heard a door
open, then close. Moments later, the light in her living room came on.

“You said you saw a light. That you thought it was mine.” She
sounded better now. More herself. Though I hated that she’d donned the
air of indifference she hid behind, I was glad that, at least
subconsciously, she’d trusted me enough to tell me what she had.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Are you close by, then?”

“Yeah. Just outside.” Not a lie.

“Um, would you, uh…” She cleared her throat.
“Would you like some coffee?”

“You good with me being in your space without one of the women
nearby?”

“I think so.” Her voice said she was trying to convince herself
she could do this and wasn’t doing a very good job. “You’d
leave if I got overwhelmed. Right?”

“Absolutely. In fact, why don’t we sit outside on the porch?
That way you can keep the door between us if you want to.”

There was a pause, then a sniffle before she spoke again.
“You’d do that? Just to make sure I was
comfortable?”

“Gina, honey. Of course. I like bein’ around you. I like
talkin’ to you and just wavin’ at you as I drive by. I’ll
do whatever it takes to make sure you always want to spend that kind of time
with me.” God, could I sound any more pathetic? Did I fucking
care?

“Come over, Falcon. I’ve unlocked the door and am making
coffee. Let yourself in. We can sit and chat for a while.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, honey.”

I chuckled as I took my time walking up her driveway. I knocked loudly
before opening the door. Even though she was expecting me, I wanted to make
sure she was well aware of where I was in her home.

“Hey.” Her smile was small, but so beautiful it made my heart
ache. How anyone could have hurt this woman was beyond me. She carried a
tray with two mugs, a pot of black coffee, cream and sugar. That was
something else about Gina. She was always prepared with a way to entertain
guests. I got the feeling at least some of that came from the need to have
something to concentrate on besides being scared all the time. The other was
a desire to make people comfortable and welcome. The way she dealt with all
the children the club had recently acquired seemed to fulfill that side of
her as well. Which gave her an added distraction from her fear. “I
have some caramel sauce in the fridge if you’d rather.”

“Black’s fine for me. Thank you, Gina.”

She fixed hers with a liberal amount of cream and sugar before blowing
gently over the liquid and taking a careful sip. I watched her as I took a
sip of my own coffee, letting the silence stretch. I’d follow her
lead.

“Um, I should thank you. I actually had dozed off and was having a
nightmare when you called.” One hand cupped her mug while she ran her
other hand up and down her arm.

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated
housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes
pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited,
vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a
blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her
writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning
delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying
conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Contact Links

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

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

 

 

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