Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Out Now! Grizzly Affair by Dulce Dennison #Gay #Paranormal @ChangelingPress

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight

Genres/Themes: Paranormal, Suspense, Interracial, Men in Uniform, Gay
Length: Novella

With a rogue shifter on the loose leaving a trail of bodies, it isn't the best time for bear shifter, Roarke Hilliard to have his heat cycle. Especially since he's the lead Special Agent on the case. But nature must take its course. When his partner, agent Spencer Malloy, places himself in Roarke's path during his greatest time of need, the bear is worried he might break the human. But Spencer wants Roarke badly... bad enough to call in a paranormal escort.

Grigore Gabor may be a male escort, but he's never slept with any of his clients... until now. The moment the wolf shifter gets a whiff of the bear who hired him, and his human companion, he knows he's found his mates. But getting the surly ursa to agree is another matter.

With a killer on the loose, now isn't the time for finding true love. With Roarke handicapped by his heat cycle, there's only so much the agents can do against the rogue shifter. They can only hope to bring the man to justice before another body is found.

Available 9/15 at Changeling Press
Available 9/22 at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, Kobo


Special Agent Roarke Hilliard, Bureau of Paranormal Affairs, scented the air as he scanned the crime scene for clues. Darkness filled him, narrowing his world to this one moment. Blood soaked through his pants and coated his hands as he knelt beside the too still, mangled body. The copper tang of the teen's blood teased his nostrils. His nose flared as he searched for other scents. Gunpowder residue and the stale smell of sweat hung heavy in the air.
A gun was clutched in the young man's hand, his fingers gripping it even in death, and yet the weapon hadn't been able to save him. Slashed across his sternum, the killer's claws had dug deep, all the way to the bone. His clothes were torn in other areas. His belt had been partially torn from him. The clues were adding up to a terrifying, grisly picture.
This wasn't the first victim, and if Roarke couldn't catch the bastard responsible, it wouldn't be the last. Up to this point, the killer had targeted male prostitutes. But this one was different. There were no indications of drug use, no condoms in the victim's wallet. Was the killer branching out? Or were his tastes changing?
"This is definitely our guy," Agent Spencer Malloy said as he surveyed the scene. "If we don't catch him soon, we'll be on every channel in the country. You know how much the Bureau hates bad publicity."
Roarke stood. "There has to be a pattern. The first known victim was in Chicago. The second was in South Bend, Indiana. But now, victim number five is in Atlanta. Where is he going?"
"I still say they aren't planned. I think our guy is picking up young men, then he gets frustrated when they won't give him what he wants and he kills them."
"They're prostitutes living on the streets. There isn't much they won't do for the right amount," Roarke reasoned.
"What's that super sniffer of yours telling you?"
"I don't smell semen. I don't think he got very far before he killed this one. Maybe that was his motivation. Either he couldn't get it up, or the victim resisted." Although he could be wrong. Roarke wasn't about to admit it to anyone, but during his heat cycle his nose was not the most reliable. It took every effort not to turn bear the closer the time got.
Spencer ran a hand through his short, blond hair. "I don't like this. Rogue shifters are one thing, but one bent on murder?"
"The lab ran the sample three times," Roarke reminded him. "No match was found in the system, but the DNA suggested a hybrid."
"Which explains the instability," Spencer muttered. "He obviously has impulse control issues. My gut says there are more murders. Unless some switch flipped in this guy's head, there's no way his first murder was last month. Not unless he was just turned, and what's the likelihood of a just-turned hybrid?"
Roarke sighed. "I'm afraid I have to agree with you. We need to have records run a search on all unsolved shifter related homicides nationwide for the past five years, see if anything pops up that matches our guy's MO."
"I'll call it in while you check out the rest of the scene. Maybe we missed something on the first walk through. Then you're going to the hotel for a shower and a change of clothes."
Roarke nodded and looked around again. He began a slow circuit of the space, sniffing for something he might have missed as his gaze touched on every square inch of the room. He knew from experience they wouldn't find anything new. Fingerprints and DNA did them no good when the killer wasn't in the system. According to the shifter laws of 2023, formed when shifters came out of hiding, all shapeshifters were required to have DNA and fingerprints on file with the government. Those who didn't comply were termed "rogue" and would be put to death if they were found to have committed a heinous crime. If you weren't registered, you didn't have rights.
Spencer motioned to him from the doorway and Roarke stepped out into the sunshine. With the smell of death and decay surrounding him, he'd forgotten how beautiful it was outside. Spring was in the air, which spelled trouble for a bear on a never-ending job. The urge to mate would hit him hard and Roarke would be powerless to stop it. Last mating season, he'd damn near lost his job when he'd holed up in a motel room for three days with a willing male from a shifter run escort service... he might do well to keep their number handy.
"I passed on our thoughts about there being more murders and Rawlins said he would put a team on it." Spencer began walking toward their SUV. "He asked why the hell we couldn't have thought of that weeks ago. I told him we were too busy chasing a trail of mangled bodies. Pompous ass."
Roarke grinned.
"I say we go get you cleaned up and grab a bite to eat. We missed lunch and I know that beast inside of you has to be starving." Spencer held out his hand. "Keys."
Roarke pulled them from his pocket and handed them over. He climbed into the passenger's seat and patiently waited for Spencer to get in and start the vehicle.
"Speaking of my beast, there's something you should know," Roarke said as they pulled out of the parking lot. "My mating heat is going to hit soon. Since I don't have a mate, my bear is going to seek the first willing male available. It's going to possibly put me out of commission for a few days."
"So we take a break."
Roarke shook his head. "The mating fever is going to hit our killer grizzly too. It means more murders if he can't find someone willing and able to handle the frenzy. Think double or even triple the body count we have now."
"Fuck. We have to catch this guy!" Spencer slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

About Dulce

With an overactive imagination and a penchant for making up stories, was it any wonder Dulce Dennison decided to be an author? From cowboys to shapeshifters, she has a story for them all, but her passion lies in writing m/m romances. Dulce believes in love in all shapes and sizes, and that everyone deserves a happily-ever-after.
Married since 2000 to a man she isn’t sure is quite human, her husband and children (which she fondly calls the demon spawn) keep her busy, but never too busy to write. Is there such a thing as too busy to write? Most mornings you can find Dulce set up with her laptop, a cat curled up next to her, and a steaming cup of coffee just an arm’s reach away.

Dulce loves to hear from her readers! You can find her on Facebook or Twitter. If you'd like to hear more about new releases from Dulce, please sign up for her newsletter.


Monday, September 18, 2017

STIRRING UP GLORY by Kacey Hammell #Rubenesque #EroticRomance @EvernightPub


Stirred by Love Series: Book 2

Contemporary Erotic Romance, Rubenesque/BBW
ISBN: 978177394053
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Shaken and Stirred with a splash of dirty.

She’s not the one he wants…
Drew McKenna is obsessed with the woman who saved his family’s business. She’s the last woman he should want, but his dreams are flooded with the sultry, sexy woman who gets under his skin. He’d not prepared to end their lengthy riff just so he can give into his desire to have the gorgeous woman under him. 
But she is the one he needs…
Glory Pierce gave up on Drew the second he flung vicious insults her way. The harder she tries to forget how deep those scars run, however, the more he invades her thoughts. When tragedy strikes, Glory is forced to put aside her anger and work with the man she despises. But as they mix business with pleasure, the heat between them reaches fever pitch, secrets are revealed, and passions are stirred up in ways neither of them can ignore.


“I wish you saw yourself as I do. Vibrant, sexy, magnetic. Feisty, while humble and kind. You’re a class act, Glory Pierce.”
The words washed over her, crowding within her heart and soul. Her body warmed surrounded by them. But, in the back of her mind, doubt nagged at her. “Pretty words, Drew. Practice them much?”
“Damn it, woman.” He snarled, crunching the empty bottle in his hand. Her eyes widened, and watched as he inhaled a few harsh breaths. “I’m sorry for that. It’s just—” he shifted in the chair. Gone was the heat, and replaced with perplexed confusion. “I’m being as honest as I can be. I understand it will take time for you to trust me, and I’ll work for it, but don’t shut me out. Can’t we start again?”
The idea was so absurd, she wanted to laugh, but refrained from losing her cool. “As though we haven’t known each other for years? How does that work? We’re too acquainted with one another to pretend otherwise.”
He nodded. “I agree, but I mean as far as spending time together. Some real time. We’ve never had the chance to do that.”
It took every bit of restraint to keep her jaw from falling into her lap. “You mean … dating?” She’d die of more embarrassment if she’d presumed too much.
Glory couldn’t help it, she laughed out loud. How preposterous. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she tried to control her giggles. “Oh, my gosh.” She cleared her throat, reining herself in. “Drew, I don’t need your pity dates or trying to make up for anything.” She stood and refilled the empty bottle with water from the cooler in the corner. Once full, she turned and leaned against the counter. “I’m sure you mean well, but come on, as if you want to date me.”
She had to tip her head back, shocked, as he was on his feet and across the kitchen standing in front of her before she had time to blink. His lean body boxed her in, his arms barricading her in on each side.
“I think I’ve said a few times how attracted I am to you, Glory. And I suspect the feeling is mutual.” He crowded in closer, head dipping low to her right ear. “I’ve had a hard dick for months just picturing you naked. Should I give you the details of my dreams? The things we’ve done together might make you blush.” His breath brushed long the curve of her neck, sending shivers along her spine and over her ass. Grateful for the counter against her back, or she’d have fallen flat on her ass and taken him with her, she latched onto the lifeline.
Not a bad idea. I’d be game for that.
Glory groaned, but leaned away from him until his breath no longer seduced her. “Oh, you’re good. I’ll give you that. Quite skilled in fact. But making my pussy tingle with horny words won’t get you into my panties, Drew.”
“Your pussy’s tingling?”
With a growl, she shoved him away and glared at him. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
The bastard had the audacity to laugh. “I’m sorry. But Christ, saying shit like that won’t help the hard on, ya know.”
Glory’s gaze dropped to the front of his shorts. Yep, present and accounted for, she could see the outline of his hard dick. She took a sip of her water.
“Stop that. Staring at it doesn’t help either. If you don’t want me to pounce on you, you have to quit it.”
Oh, we want him to pounce, don’t we? Why don’t we lie on the floor right here and spread our legs?
The voice in her head had her choking on the water halfway down her throat. Her eyes watered as she tried to control a coughing fit.
“Are you okay?”
She held a hand up, keeping him at bay. If he touched her now, she’d crumple, unable to resist him. Her conscience was a menace, but definitely right. If Drew pounced, she’d never stop him.
“Yes.” After a quick glance at the clock on the stove, she cleared her throat. “I have a few calls to make and paperwork for Alan to do. I think we’re done here, Drew.” He stared at her, unmoving, and she shifted on her feet. “Look, I get it, you want to make amends and think you’re attracted to me. But I don’t believe it. I’m sorry. I don’t trust you.” He couldn’t expect much else from her. Not when he’d never given her any reason to think of him as more than a bad memory.
“Cards on the table?” he asked, as he advanced on her. “Complete honesty?”
“Uh, haven’t we been doing that?”
“I have, but I need you to be all in, too.” He stopped in front of her, his tasteful cologne wafting her way. Why did he always smell so fucking good? “Do you want me, Glory?”
A gasp escaped her. His unwavering gaze held her captive. She didn’t want to do this.
“I have to earn your trust, and I plan to, but you have to give me hope. Something to hold on to as I prove it.”
“Drew,” she sighed.
“Be honest with me, please. If you tell me to walk away, I will. If you say you want me, and that there’s something more between us, then I’ll hold on so fucking tight.” He sighed as his fingers brushed her cheek. “So tight, babe, you’ll be mine completely. But I need to hear it from you.”
God, his voice, low and raspy... Glory swallowed hard as her skin warmed and her nipples pebbled. Damn him. Dare she trust him with so much? He’d given her nothing but heartache and chaos for so long. Sure, he had a lot to make up for, but she’d never make any man sit up and beg. The memories haunted her, but she understood he hadn’t been in control that night. She should’ve handled things better. Called Eric. Locked herself in the bathroom. Stayed up until morning at Abe’s Diner. But she hadn’t done a thing to stop him when he’d touched her. Hadn’t wanted to. It wasn’t fair to put total blame on him. His words the next morning had gutted her, yes, but shouldn’t she forgive him because he’d woken up off-kilter and uncertain?
Glory opened her mouth, only to snap it shut as the doorbell chimed.
“Shit. Are you expecting someone? Never mind, answer me first.” Drew rubbed her shoulders. “Please.”
The chime sounded again. Glory pushed his hands away. “I have to get that.” She strode across the kitchen, then halted. Before she changed her mind, she gripped the doorjamb and turned back. “As much as I wish otherwise, I do want you, Drew. More than I should. And more than is smart.”

Praise for Stirring Up Glory:
“a hot and sexy read.” ~ SJ Maylee, author of Assassins and Sweetheart series
“Do you like reading erotic romance with hot scorching scenes, then you should definitely check out Stirring Up Glory! You won't be disappointed!” Nicole, Top 100 Amazon Reviewer

Buy Links:
More Bookstores --
And of course, Book 1, Stirring Up Dirty is always available at all online bookstores.

About Kacey:
Avid Reader. Romance Author. Redhead…
Canadian-born author Kacey Hammell is definitely a book-a-holic. A romance reader from a young age, she fell in love with happily ever afters.  These days, as a multi- published erotic romance author, she enjoys adding a lot of heat, sass, and emotion to the many genres she writes.

Mom of three, Kacey lives her own happily ever after with her perfect hero in Ontario, Canada.

Readers can find all my titles under the drop down “Bookshelf” menu on my website –
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Sunday, September 17, 2017

A Regency Lady requires a firm hand. ~ Taming Lady Lydia by Felicity Brandon #RegencyRomance #BDSM

Taming Lady Lydia by Felicity Brandon

Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Release date: 8th, September, 2017
Words: 163,000 words 
Tag line: A Regency Lady requires a firm hand…

Buy Links:

Author comments on book: Taming Lady Lydia is the most sensual and potent romance I have ever penned. Lord Markham is the Regency hero I always fantasised about... He’s a strict authoritarian with a loving, tender heart.


When her father, Earl Franklin dies unexpectedly, eighteen-year-old Lady Lydia is sent to live with her guardian, the unknown and enigmatic Lord Thomas Markham. Initially eager to leave her new home, Lydia is indignant at her guardian’s firm and protective behaviour, but everything changes that first night when she accidentally discovers something shocking about life at Markham Hall…

Now, in spite of his rules and expectations, the young and indulged Lydia finds herself inexplicably drawn to her guardian. Lord Markham it seems, is a gentleman who will finally provide the firm hand she has always needed, and Lydia begins to crave his discipline, desiring him to take her over his knee and deliver a sound spanking.

With their affections for one another growing, Thomas and Lydia seem set for a bright future if only events would stop conspiring to tarnish their happiness. Can their burgeoning romance survive the scrutiny of Thomas’ mother, the Countess, and the interference of their peers? And can Lydia learn to live by Her Lordship’s governance, and find the happily ever after they so desire?

An Adult Excerpt - Spanking 

The depth of the authority in his voice stirs me, sending energy coursing around my body. It pools at the apex of my legs, causing delicious tingles there. “I am sorry to have pressed the point,” I say, and I mean it, although I cannot help but wonder if it is his discipline which I really crave and have missed this last week.
I swear he senses the answer as he reaches for me. He sinks the fingers of his right hand into my hair and draws my body toward him. “Lydia,” he says, his voice almost a low growl. “Are you being intentionally disrespectful, I wonder?”
A silent gasp leaves my mouth as I look upon him.
“Oh, so you are…” he says with a knowing smile. “That is what this is about…”
I flush, knowing that there is little point denying what we both already know to be true. I glance up to him, my eyes imploring the messages I long to say. He pulls me closer, pressing my head against his warm chest. “Have you missed me, my love?” His voice is a deep murmur into my right ear.
“Yes…” I just about manage.
“And so you have chosen to be intentionally disobedient, to garner my attention?”
I shift my head, looking wildly into his face. “It is not my intention, My Lord,” I whimper.
“Oh, really, little one?” he asks, as that brow arches once again. “I think that is an untruth. I think you did intend to disobey me, and I think you did so because you have missed my discipline. Am I correct?”
I am trembling as I reply, utterly startled by his ability to read me. “Perhaps, yes, My Lord, but I did not want for you to be angry with me.”
He smiles. “Lydia,” he coos. “I am not angry. But you and I both know what happens to naughty, disobedient young ladies, don’t we?”
My mouth parts reflexively. “Will you spank me?” I whimper.
“Yes,” he says, pulling me toward him as he reseats himself. “I realise that I have been remiss in my duties to you, and for that I apologise. I intend to make amends right this moment.”
In an instant he pulls me forward and down toward his lap. “But, My Lord!” I exclaim as I lurch headfirst over his breeches. “Not here, Thomas! What if somebody finds us?”
“We have had this conversation, Lydia,” he says firmly as he hoists me into position, “and I have assured you that I will spank you either with, or without, an audience.”
I gasp, feeling the skirts of my gown, petticoat, and stays dragged up my back, leaving my behind exposed and vulnerable. Almost immediately, his hand lands against my bare skin, the sound resonating around the study. I squeeze my eyes shut, stunned by the escalation of events. I pray silently that none of the staff will hear us and enter the room unexpectedly.
A further four swats are landed on my bottom, and they are hard and intense spanks. I am forced to bear each one, feeling the sting and then warmth they leave after his palm has left. From this angle behind his desk I can see very little, except for the expensive rug at my fingertips.
As the next strike lands, I hear Thomas’ voice from over my head. “Why are you being spanked, Lydia?” he asks.
I notice his voice is calm, but there is just the slight edge of arousal laced there.
“I was disobedient, My Lord,” I reply, my own voice trembling as I do.
“Yes,” he agrees, swatting me hard on the rear again. “You disobeyed me in order to get the attention you require, instead of coming to me and telling me about your needs.”
His hand lands on my behind again. “And for that reason, little one,” he says firmly, “you will receive a sound spanking on your bare bottom, and you will thank me for it.”
I whimper as the next strike lands, catching the pulsating need between my legs. “Yes, My Lord,” I moan from over his lap. “Thank you.”
Five swats land quickly, and instinctively I mean to get up, arching my back as I try to move.
His hand holds me down decisively. “You will stay over my lap, Lydia,” he calls out, and I flinch at the volume, hoping that nobody else will hear him. “You need this punishment, do you not?”
“Yes,” I whine, wincing as the next spank lands.
“Yes, you do,” he says, reaffirming my own thoughts. “So just take it, little one.”
I swallow hard, loathing the way he calls me his little one as he spanks me. The label, of course, helps to reinforce my subservience to him. The onslaught continues, and the stinging sensation is intense. He pushes me on, the utter indignation of the punishment both riling and arousing me. At some point I lose count of the swats, feeling the tension between my legs growing and building. I know I am wet, and I long secretly for Thomas to explore me there.
His palm eventually pauses, pressing itself against the warmth of my bare bottom. “How do you feel now, my love?” His voice is filled with passion.
“Thank you for my spanking, Thomas,” I murmur, unsure what else to say.
I hear him laugh, and slowly, teasingly, his fingers dip between my hot cheeks.
“Well done, my love,” he soothes, as one and then two digits slip against my wetness.
I mewl and groan, loving the intensity of his touch already.
“So wet and beautiful,” he whispers adoringly. “I yearn for our wedding night, Lydia, when I can finally possess you as a man should claim his wife.”

Author Bio:
International bestselling & award winning writer of BDSM, spanking erotic romance.
Voted Favourite Historical Fiction, 2016, Golden Flogger Finalist, 2016, and Spanking Romance Review runner-up, 2016.
Founding Wicked Pen writer.

Author Links:

Felicity’s blog/website:
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