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The Dark Side Blitz

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LGBTQ+, BDSM, Paranormal Romance

Date Published: May 16, 2025

 

 

Welcome to The Dark Side, where the line between love and lust blurs with
dangerous passions.

The Dark One by Angela Knight

Matia of Ruza is one of the legendary Battlemaids — a woman warrior who
has taken an oath of celibacy in service of the Maid of Light. Kaska intends
to make Matia the centerpiece in a sizzling erotic ritual in honor of his
god.

Chain of Thorns by Will Okati

Riven finds himself trapped and enslaved by a powerfully seductive alien.
Where is the line between fantasy and reality — slavery and love?

BloodWolf by Sierra Dafoe

Centuries ago an ancient evil turned Baudouin Delacor into a beast for
which there had never before been a name — the BloodWolf. Delacor has only
one hope left: that by destroying the succubus, he can free himself of its
curse.

 

The Dark Side paperback

 

EXCERPT

Excerpt from The Dark One (Angela Knight)

 

Kaska of Artane slowed his stallion to an easy amble. Prince Britar’s
fortress lay a full day away, and he’d ridden poor Warbringer hard this past
month. He knew the Prince awaited the intelligence he’d gathered as a spy in
neighboring Trovan but laming his horse would serve no purpose.

Particularly with war on the horizon.

Besides, the last time Kaska had come this way, he’d had to battle the
local brigands. Two fell to his blade before the rest fled, but that left
five. And they might be in the mood for revenge. I don’t care to ride
headlong into an ambush.

“Whoreson bastards!” A woman’s roar of fury brought Kaska’s head
up. He drew Warbringer to a prancing halt.

Swords clashed, interspaced with male taunts and laughter. The laughter had
a distinctly ugly note. The woman swore again, an edge of grim desperation
in her voice.

The thieves had found a new victim.

Kaska set his heels to Warbringer’s flanks and thundered up the road toward
the sound. Rounding the bend, he saw five men fighting a lone female
traveler they’d managed to unhorse. He recognized the dented, rusted armor
and unshaven faces; it was indeed the same band of thieves.

But their victim was no common woman. Her armor and sword marked her as a
follower of the Maid of Light — a female warrior. She was tall for a woman,
with a lithe, muscular build and pretty breasts barely contained by her
intricately embossed breastplate. Long black hair swirled around her face as
she spun and hacked at her tormentors with a slim sword designed for a
woman’s hand.

One of the brigands already lay dead at her feet, but four others remained,
odds too great even for one of the legendary Battlemaids.

A grin of sheer, savage joy spread across Kaska’s face. With a howl, he
drew the blade sheathed across his back and kicked Warbringer into a
thundering charge.

The nearest of the brigands whirled too late. Kaska took his head with a
single stroke.

Another of the men jumped at him, hacking for his thigh with an axe, but
Kaska spun Warbringer aside and thrust his blade into the thief’s chest. The
man tumbled off the lethal point, gurgling out his life.

Meanwhile, the third brigand fell to the Battlemaid’s sword. His head
tumbled from his shoulders.

The fourth man looked from Kaska to the thieves’ would-be victim,
calculated the odds, and took to his heels.

Kaska snatched a dagger from his thigh sheath and hurled it at the coward
with an expert flip of his wrist. The man went down, the blade buried to the
hilt between his shoulder blades.

Scarcely breathing hard, Kaska turned to the maid. “Are you
well?”

“Well enough.” She studied him, her dark eyes level. There was a
sharp and elegant beauty to her face, with its broad, high cheekbones and
square little chin. Her lush mouth could inspire a monk to carnal
fantasies.

“My thanks, warrior,” she said at last in a low, husky voice,
pushing the long black hair out of her face. “There were too many of
them for me to best alone.” She considered him, appraising the width of
his chest and the strength of his sword arm. Female appreciation lit her
gaze, mixed with a warrior’s caution.

She had reason for that caution, for he meant to challenge her himself. He
worshiped the Dark One, and his god relished nothing as much as the moans of
a defeated Battlemaid.

Imagining the tight grip of her virgin ass, Kaska felt his cock swell
behind his loincloth.

Give her time to rest, and then…

Of course, the maid might well kill him instead, but looking at her long
legs and full, sweet breasts, Kaska thought it a chance well worth
taking.

But as he opened his mouth to warn her of his intent, all color left the
Battlemaid’s face. Her eyes rolled up. Kaska threw himself from Warbringer’s
back as she collapsed in a heap.

Two long strides carried him to the maid’s side. Dropping to one knee on
the dusty road, Kaska began an anxious examination. He found no wounds on
the front of her body, so he rolled her onto her back.

The maid groaned and lifted her head. “Wha –?”

“Seems one of your cur attackers landed a blow after all,” he
told her grimly. “There’s a stab wound in your back just under your
backplate, over your left hip.”

“Aye,” she said, letting her head fall. “One of them had a
dagger.”

“‘Tis not deep, but it bleeds still,” Kaska said. “I can
treat it, if you permit.”

“Aye,” the maid said, breathing now in shallow pants. “My
thanks.”

Kaska nodded and rose to retrieve his pack of battlefield medicines from
Warbringer. Well, he thought as he walked to his horse, I won’t be
challenging her any time soon. Not with that wound.

Later, perhaps. When he’d examined her, he’d noticed she had a truly
delicious ass.

He wanted it.

 

About the Authors

 

Angela Knight:

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

Sierra Dafoe:

An award-winning author who received three CAPA nominations in her first
year of publishing, Sierra Dafoe has gone on to receive numerous awards and
recommended reads for her work. Check her website for free stories, a link
to her readers’ group, sneak peeks, and all her latest news. Sign up for her
newsletter to be entered in her monthly contest, and reach out through the
“contact” page — she loves hearing from her readers!

Will Okati:

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting
Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and
ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as
ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of
the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always
a work in progress.

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

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Immortal Lust Blitz

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Immortal Lust cover

Paranormal Romance & Dark Fantasy

Date Published: January 16, 2023

 

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For years, Raymond du Sable has chased rumors of a woman shrouded in
legend, a woman of unearthly, hypnotic beauty. Finally, on Crusade, he finds
her. She is Cytharea, daughter of Aphrodite, irresistible to mortal man —
and Raymond’s key to grasping the throne of France. To transport her there
safely, Raymond hires a Templar Knight, Gerard d’Amiers.

Sworn to chastity, Gerard has a deep mistrust of women, born of the
infidelity of his boyhood love. Yet Cytharea stirs him in a way no woman
ever has. And Cytharea herself is battling a deadly imperative — she must
feed from the sexual energy of a man soon, or die.

Together, Gerard and Cytharea discover a passion so overpowering it shakes
the very foundations of Gerard’s faith. Upon reaching France, he must
abandon every vow he’s ever made or lose Cytharea to the abusive ambitions
of a madman.

Immortal Lust teaser

EXCERPT

 

Copyright ©2023 Sierra Dafoe

 

Acre, The Holy Land, 1191

 

In the hot, stinking dust of a desert night, Raymond du Sable crept closer
to his goal across sands soaked with the blood of battle. Over four hundred
men had died today, Saracens and Christians both.

But tonight, Richard of England and the infidel Saladin exchanged gifts of
courtesy. Chilled fruits served on crushed ice, transported hundreds of
miles from the mountains of Mongolia, delicate embroidery and lace carried
all the way from Britain. The sheer wealth required to bring such items this
far staggered Raymond.

But that was all right — he would have such riches soon enough.

He grinned in the darkness, thinking of the monarchs in Richard’s pavilion.
Bent over a game of chess perhaps, or enjoying the wailing of zurnas that
the Turks considered music. They played at chivalry while Christians bled
and died to reclaim the Holy Land from the godless Turks.

Fools, the lot of them.

He himself had no interest in the Crusade or its goals. He had accompanied
his cousin on this fool’s mission for one reason and one reason only. And
that reason lay just ahead in a heavily guarded tent within Saladin’s
encampment.

Only fools and infidels would bring their women to war.

No doubt his cousin Philip was with the others in Richard’s pavilion,
chafing likely as not at the intricate shows of royal politeness. A vain,
pious, unimaginative man, Philip, just thick-skulled enough to be
dangerous.

Did such a man deserve to hold the throne of France?

Raymond thought not. Thrones and crowns belonged to those with the strength
— and imagination — to take them. He grinned again, keeping his lips
closed so that the flash of his teeth in the dark wouldn’t betray him.

There were two guards along each side of the large tent, with two
additional men stationed at the entrance. Raymond had no intention of
gaining admittance through the front flap. No, his quarry was here, housed
toward the back of the large, opulent tent that housed Saladin’s hareem — a
fact he had paid a pretty penny to learn.

But it was worth it. It all would be worth it.

He had discarded his armor in favor of stealth and speed, yet despite its
absence he felt invulnerable, almost divinely protected. The first guard
fell easily to his knife and the small, secretive, almost sexual excitement
he always experienced while doing murder sang along his veins. It was so
different from the crudity of killing in battle — there was no finesse in
that, no private thrill. As the second guard started to turn, Raymond
slipped behind him and slashed his throat.

Blood spurted across the sand, black in the gibbous moonlight, and Raymond
stared at it a moment, picturing it as a sacrificial offering to whatever
gods there were. Truly, he could almost believe in the old gods tonight.
There was a tension in the air, a sense of fate, of destiny…

Cytharea. Her name whispered in Raymond’s mind with all the potency of
legend. Quickly he slashed a gap in the side of the tent and slipped through
it, finding himself in a small, enclosed space.

Cushions were scattered about the floor, and a single brass lamp dangled
from a chain overhead. By its soft amber light, he could see the girl
cowering back against the silken blue stuff that made up the far wall. Her
dark hair tumbled down, obscuring her features. The thin fabric of her
raiment barely concealed her body. Crossing quickly to her, Raymond seized
her hair and pressed his knife to her throat.

What if she wasn’t the one? What if the legends were no more than fables,
fancies spun of air and idleness? Well, at worst he could slit the girl’s
throat and be gone as silently as he had come, he supposed, and find some
other means by which to wrest the crown from Philip.

Then the girl lifted her head, staring up at him, and Raymond froze,
licking his lips. His heart thudded heavily in his chest and a hot, painful
yearning unfolded in his loins.

Immortal Lust phone

About the Author

An award-winning author who received three CAPA nominations in her first
year of publishing, Sierra Dafoe has gone on to receive numerous awards and
recommended reads for her work. Check her website for free stories, a link
to her readers’ group, sneak peeks, and all her latest news. Sign up for her
newsletter to be entered in her monthly contest, and reach out through the
“contact” page — she loves hearing from her readers!

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Publisher’s Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress

Pre-Order Now

 

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