Tuesday, April 23, 2024

Cowboy Up by Harley Wylde #Romance #Suspense @changelingpress

 

Cowboy Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: April 26, 2024

 

 

Mia – I ran away from home when I was seventeen and attached myself to a too-old-for-me cowboy. Then he knocked me up, slapped me around, and left me. My baby and I would have had nowhere to go, but the sweetest cowboy I’ve ever met threw me a lifeline. It was only supposed to be a marriage of convenience. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. When life keeps throwing us one obstacle after another, I have to wonder if I made the right choice. What if I’m ruining Jackson’s life?

Jackson – I have really big shoes to fill. Not only is my dad a retired rodeo national champion, but he’s also part of the Dixie Reapers MC. He saved my mom, and he’s been my hero ever since I was a kid. So when my friend starts yelling at his girlfriend and slaps her around, I know I have to step in. Now I have a family I didn’t plan for, and I have no idea how to tell my parents. But with trouble following us no matter where we go, there’s only one place I can turn – to the Dixie Reapers – because I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my family safe.




EXCERPT


Carter’s face twisted into a snarl, his grip on the beer in his hand tightening until I feared the bottle might shatter. I should have known things would turn out this way. Although, I’d never seen him act like this with a woman before. I remained tense and ready to intervene the moment I thought he was going too far.

How many beers had he had? Five? Six? He looked completely plastered. I was thankful I’d decided to come to this rodeo. At first, I’d thought to pass and go to a different event, but when I found out Carter was heading here, something told me to follow.

Why the fuck was he doing this right by the arena? I could barely focus on my upcoming ride. A quick glance showed I needed to get moving if I wanted to make this ride count.

“You stupid little whore,” he spat, his words laced with venom and rage that made my blood run cold. “You think I’m gonna stick around and play daddy to some brat? You’re out of your Goddamn mind!”

Mia recoiled, her eyes wide with terror. Shit! If he took a swing at her, I’d have to forget my damn ride and go help her. Hold on just a bit longer.

“Jackson, it’s now or never,” said one of the cowboys waiting for me. I pulled my attention away from Carter and Mia, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake. I knew I’d ride like shit if I sat here worrying about her.

Closing my eyes, I cleared my mind, blocked out all the noise around me, adjusted my grip and gave the cowboy a nod. He opened the chute and the bronc beneath me bolted in a straight line. Bastard didn’t start bucking until we’d reached the other end of the arena. If I got a shitty score for drawing this horse, I was going to be pissed.

The horse’s hooves would pound into the dirt, then he’d go airborne again. He did his best to scrape me off on the arena fencing when he couldn’t seem to throw me. Sweat dripped into my eyes and I held on, hoping for a high enough score to at least keep my place. I was gunning for nationals and needed every point.

As the buzzer sounded, I jumped off the bronco. The moment my feet hit the arena floor, I took off for the fence. My body still hummed with energy from the ride, every muscle tense. I cleared the fence and closed the distance.

I’d never seen my friend act like this before, and it sickened me.

“Please, Carter,” she begged. “I didn’t want this to happen either, but we have to do something.”

“Then get rid of it!” he bellowed, causing heads to turn in their direction. “I don’t give a damn how, just make sure it’s gone!”

The bond between us as friends had shattered in an instant, and I couldn’t let Carter hurt Mia any further.

“Hey!” I shouted, my voice firm and commanding. “Leave her alone, Carter!”

He whipped around to face me, his eyes blazing with fury, and for a moment I saw the man I’d once considered a brother. But that fleeting glimpse disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by the monster he’d become. I’d like to hope it was only the alcohol, but I worried I might be seeing his true self for the first time.

“Stay out of this, Jackson!” he snarled, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “This ain’t your business!”

“Like hell it isn’t,” I shot back, my heart pounding in my chest as I positioned myself between him and Mia. “You don’t get to treat her like this, not while I’m still breathing.”

My words hung heavy in the air between us, a testament to the line we’d crossed and the friendship we’d just left behind. We stood there, two men who’d once been closer than brothers, now locked in a battle neither of us could back down from. I’d never let him, or any man, hurt a woman. Not in my presence. I’d been raised to take care of those weaker than me, and Mia definitely qualified.

“Get the hell away from her, Carter!” I demanded, my voice unwavering. She trembled behind me. I heard her suck in a breath and sniffle, which meant she was most likely crying. I felt her shaky hands press against my back.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Carter seethed, his bloodshot eyes filled with rage. He threw his beer to the ground, the glass shattering against the dirt, and clenched his fists.

“Someone who won’t stand by and watch you hurt a woman,” I replied, my pulse racing, knowing the situation was spiraling out of control.

“Stay out of it, Jackson!” Carter spat, his face contorted into a snarl. “I told you this ain’t your business!”

I shook my head, refusing to back down. “It became my business when you laid a hand on her. Or are you trying to tell me one side of her face is redder than the other for a reason besides you hitting her?”

Carter’s nostrils flared, the alcohol and anger fueling him like a wildfire. He lunged at me, swinging a wild punch aimed straight for my face. I could feel the heat of his fist as it narrowly missed me, my instincts and years of rodeo reflexes kicking in as I expertly dodged the blow.

“Is this how you want to handle things, Carter?” I asked, my heart pounding even faster now, adrenaline coursing through my veins. But before he could answer, I retaliated with a powerful punch of my own, connecting with his jaw.

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed, stumbling back a few steps, clearly stunned by the force of my blow.

“Leave her alone or I swear, I won’t hesitate to knock some sense into you,” I warned, my eyes locked onto his, showing him I meant every word.

He glared at me, his face reddening with humiliation and fury, but he didn’t make another move. His hands fisted at his sides, and I wondered if he was going to take another swing at me. The sweat dripped off my brow as I stared into Carter’s rage-filled eyes, preparing for his next move. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down -- not with Mia’s safety on the line.

“Is that all you got?” Carter snarled, wiping blood from his mouth.

“Leave her alone, Carter,” I warned, my chest heaving with the effort it took to keep my emotions in check. “This ends now.”

“Over my dead body,” he spat back, throwing another punch. But I was ready. With practiced ease, I sidestepped his attack and landed a decisive uppercut to his jaw.

He came after me again, but in his drunken state, he was no match for me. As much as I hated to hurt the man who’d once been my friend, I landed blow after blow to his ribs, gut, and face. If he’d backed down, I’d have let him go. He charged me again. I slammed my fist into his cheek.

Carter’s body crumpled to the ground like a rag doll, the fight finally drained out of him. Silence fell over the rodeo arena as everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Shit! I hadn’t even realized everyone was watching us. Didn’t surprise me no one was stepping forward. They all wanted to watch the drama unfold, but no one wanted to take responsibility for whatever happened.

He groaned and struggled to get to his knees.

“Stay away from her, Carter,” I warned.

“Think you can tell me what to do?” he spat, his voice slurred with alcohol.

“About Mia? Yeah, I do,” I replied. “Someone needs to protect her from you. When did you become such a mean drunk?”

“Who are you to decide what’s best for her?” Carter sneered, wiping the blood from his lip as he advanced.

“Someone who won’t lay a hand on her in anger.” The alcohol had completely pickled his brain. “Go sleep it off, Carter.”

He staggered to his feet and disappeared into the crowd. I had a feeling he’d come for her again. Maybe not today, but sometime in the future. I trusted my gut, and it was telling me Mia was still in danger.

“Jackson, please,” Mia whispered, her hand on my arm. Suddenly, the noise of the surrounding chaos seemed to fade away, and all I could hear was her voice, her fear and vulnerability plain for me to see. In that moment, I realized this wasn’t just about teaching Carter a lesson. It was about showing Mia she had someone in her corner, someone who would protect her no matter what.

“Okay,” I said. “It’s over.”

I took her hand in mine, leading her away from the crowd. I might not know a lot about pregnant women, but the stress couldn’t be good for her or the baby. She needed somewhere quiet, and we both needed time to think.

“Where are we going?” Mia asked, her eyes still brimming with fear.

“Somewhere safe,” I assured her. “Away from all this. Just trust me, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

I could feel her body trembling as we moved through the sea of people, and I wished more than anything that I could take away her pain. But for now, all I could do was guide her toward safety, one step at a time.

“Almost there,” I murmured, my eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger. “Just keep holding on.”

 


About the Author


Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.

 

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Monday, April 22, 2024

A CURE FOR SPRING FEVER by Barbara Robinson #Paranormal #Romance #Giveaway



This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will award a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


For centuries, Gamekeepers have used their magical abilities to create a buffer between the creatures who dwell in the enchanted forest and the sleepy coastal town that sits in its shadow. When Gamekeeper Stan Ross’s magic begins to fail, he must find out what went wrong, then fix it before the two worlds collide. His hit or miss magic has already led to a few close calls so he journeys to the Sacred Isle searching for answers and advice. Finding a cure proves elusive—until Stan encounters a kitchen witch who captivates him body and soul. Lynnette Peters is healing from her own wounds, however, and it isn’t clear whether she’s ready to open herself to the possibility—or the peril—of love.



Read an Excerpt

“I’m not sick, sir” Stan answered, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “I haven’t changed the way I cast a ward. My magic is elemental, so I rely on nature runes, overlaid with those representing broader concepts. I might choose an animal rune, or a rune representing a natural element. It depends on the creature I’m warding, and what its habits are. Once I have the base rune, I add on layers, and then finish it with something representing strength or luck. I guess I’m in a bit of a rut. My magic is feeling tired, lately. When it works, it doesn’t have the same staying power, and sometimes it just doesn’t work at all.”

Tapping his fingers on the desk, Covington regarded Stan with sympathy, then nodded. “You’re certainly not the first gamekeeper to hit a rut, and you won’t be the last. I think that a little bit of rest and relaxation is what’s needed here. I am going to suggest—no, I’m going to insist—that you take some time off and recharge your batteries. Meanwhile, I’ll give some thought to damage control."

Stan dipped his head in acknowledgment, but his posture was rigid as he exited the office. Finding his partner in the break room, Stan told him that Covington was taking him off the duty roster, and insisting he take some leave. “I don’t know, Owen” he said, picking dust off his sleeve and shaking his head. “I haven’t taken any vacation time in over a year, so maybe Covington has a point, but I feel like I’m more than just tired. I’m soul tired. I’m not sure that a week on my sofa with daytime TV and a tray of bonbons is going to fix anything.”

About the Author: Barbara Robinson is an author of contemporary and historical romance set against a backdrop of magical realism. She is a deep thinker and tea drinker who finds inspiration in myths and folktales, poems and ballads, and academic writing on a variety of subjects. Diagnosed with autism and giftedness as an adult, she enjoys exploring themes of neurodiversity and opposing character perspectives in her writing.

She is an avid gardener and lover of nature who works out plot lines and character sketches while nurturing her garden, walking in the woods, or sitting by the shoreline watching waves. She is known for world building that features rich and immersive detail, supported by meticulous research and careful observation.

Barbara lives in Nova Scotia, Canada, in the shadow of ancient mountains that lie along the Bay of Fundy coast. These rugged vistas shape her story settings, while providing the perfect backdrop for life with her husband, her hounds and her dragon (Pogona Vitticeps). She has a Bachelor of Arts from the University of King’s College and a Master of Arts at Dalhousie University, and she recently completed a Graduate Certificate in Creative Writing from the Humber School for Writers (Humber College, Toronto).

Website: https://www.barbararobinsonauthor.ca
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BarbaraRobinsonWrites/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Spring-Fever-Jelly-Beans-Things-ebook/dp/B0CVHHR5ND/ref=sr_1_1

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Beyond Stonebridge by Linda Griffin #Ghost #Romance

 

Ghost Story Romance

Date Published: 04-22-2024

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press


 

In this sequel to Stonebridge, it is 1959, and Rynna Wyatt's abusive husband Jason has fallen to his death after a fight with his bookish, disabled cousin Ted Demeray. The police would like to know exactly what happened, but Ted and Rynna can't tell the whole truth. Jason's death doesn't end his relationship with them either. Rynna is pregnant with his child and traumatized by his abuse. She and Ted leave Stonebridge Manor to start a new life in Brenford, where Ted teaches geology at the university, but Jason's restless spirit follows them and continues to haunt Rynna's dreams. He wants her back. He wants revenge. And he wants his son. Can Ted and Rynna find a way to oppose his claims and finally put him to rest?

 

About the Author

I knew I wanted to be a "book maker" as soon as I learned to read, and I wrote my first story, "Judy and the Fairies," at the age of six. My passion for the printed word also led me to a career with the San Diego Public Library. I retired to spend more time on my writing and have had stories of every length from short shorts to novellas published in numerous literary journals. Beyond Stonebridge is my ninth book from the Wild Rose Press. In addition to the three R's--reading, writing, and research--I enjoy travel, movies, Scrabble, and visiting museums and art galleries.


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Friday, April 19, 2024

Arcane Kiss by Angela Knight @changelingpress #paranormal

 

Alternative Universe, Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Date Published: Apri 12, 2024

 

 

Kurt Briggs has a spirit link to a tiger Familiar that gives him superhuman abilities, but when his father is murdered, the military veteran becomes a target for terrorist sorcerers. Alone, Kurt finds he's no match for the witch and her shape-shifting polar bear. He turns to Arcanist Genevieve Reyes for help in fighting the killers' spells.

As Genevieve and Kurt hunt the terrorists, shared danger leads to shared desire. But they soon realize Kurt's passion for Gen weakens his control over his cat. The consequences could be deadly for them both. Genevieve is attracted to Kurt's animal sensuality, but she knows she may be in as much danger from his tiger as she is from the terrorists.

Even if Kurt and Gen manage to stop the terrorists, their evil sorcery may trigger a witch hunt that could mean the destruction of everyone with magical Talent -- including Kurt and Genevieve.




EXCERPT


The tiger bounded toward him in a blur of striped fur and powerful muscle. Kurt Briggs braced himself as the big cat reared to thump huge paws down on his shoulders. Somehow he managed not to fall on his ass, though eight feet of cat made an awkward dance partner. Rumbling, the beast touched a cool, damp nose to Kurt’s.

“Hi to you, too, Stoli.” Kurt dug his fingers in thick reddish gold fur to give his Familiar a scratch.

Golden eyes narrowed in feline ecstasy and Stoli chuffed a greeting. The tiger dropped to all fours again, and turned toward the lake with a flick of his striped tail. Kurt strolled after him across the thick grass.

Through the trees ahead Kurt spotted the flickering glint of afternoon sunlight on water -- the spring-fed lake that lay at the heart of Briggs Feral Sanctuary. Another tiger lounged in the shallows, six hundred pounds of stripes, attitude and luminous golden eyes.

Dave gave them a lazy blink, indolent as a pasha. And like a pasha, he apparently had a harem -- or at least a gang of devoted fans. Ten female volunteers clustered just outside the enclosure fence as close as they dared get. Dressed in shorts, hats and T-shirts with the BFS lion logo, they all wore grins of anticipation as they waited for him to do something amazing. Or, knowing Dave, inappropriate.

Stoli catapulted off the bank, sailed through the air, and landed on the other cat with a huge splash. The volunteers fled the arcing water, yelping and laughing.

Dave roared, batting at Stoli’s nose with sheathed claws. “Back off, Tigger! Do I look like fuckin’ Pooh Bear to you?”

Stoli raced off, chuffing like a giggling ten-year-old who’d pranked his brother. Which was exactly what he was. The two cats had been littermates before they’d melded with their human partners. Otherwise they couldn’t have shared an enclosure. Their fights would have been real.

“You’d better run, asshole! I’ll turn you into a rug!” Dave flopped back down in the water with a huff of feline disdain. “The crap I put up with.”

Kurt’s grin faded. Dave did indeed put up with a hell of a lot. A year ago he’d been Dave Frost, a member of Kurt’s Arcane Corps unit -- a tall, lanky blond with a wicked sense of humor. But that was before Dave had died, leaving his soul trapped in the body of Smilodon, his Familiar.

Another man might have surrendered to bitterness and grief for his lost humanity. Dave taught himself to talk by making the air vibrate with magic instead of human vocal cords. Now he was building a thriving career as a YouTube smartass.

“You got me all wet,” a blonde volunteer complained, pretending to pout as she pulled at her soaked shirt.

The tiger gave her a toothy grin. “My pleasure.”

“Ladies, quit flirting with the wildlife and finish cleaning the enclosures.” Kurt put a little subsonic rumble in his voice. Dave wasn’t the only one who could manipulate sound with his magic. “We don’t want BFS to smell like the world’s biggest litter box.”

“Killjoy,” Dave complained.

“You heard the man.” Karla Morgen, the volunteer coordinator, made a shooing gesture at the women. “The poop won’t scoop itself.”

“You know,” Kurt told Dave as the volunteers scattered, “you couldn’t be any more a ham if you were Porky Pig.”

“How else would I bring home the bacon?” Dave flicked a paw, and an invisible snare drum banged out a rimshot.

Kurt laughed. “You’re getting scary with the magical sound effects.”

“I live to terrify. Speaking of performances, how many tickets did we sell last night? Looked like every inch of the arena bleachers had somebody’s butt on it.”

“Pretty much.” BFS’s Feral 101 show was designed to educate sanctuary visitors about big cats. They’d livened it up with a demonstration of Feral abilities, but the material had still been as dry as sawdust -- until Dave had taken the emcee job in his capable paws. “We brought in five thousand in ticket sales and donations, plus another thousand for selfies and souvenirs.”

And they needed every dime. Keeping fifty-nine exotic cats fed and healthy wasn’t something you did on a shoestring.

Dave gave him a smug smile. “I has skillz. I also has half a million followers.”

“You’re just lucky they don’t know what an asshole you are.”

“I’m a tiger. We’re supposed to be assholes.”

Movement across the lake drew Kurt’s attention. In the next enclosure, a lion came to the water’s edge, accompanied by his two lionesses. Staring at the tigers, the Familiar roared.

 

 

About the Author

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.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

 

Contact Links

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

 

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Thursday, April 18, 2024

Sleeping Dragon by Stephanie Burke @changelingpress #paranormal

 

Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, LGBTQ

Date Published: April 19, 2024


 

Youltan lives a life of obligation and service, a slave to the desires of others, harnessing the strange and powerful chaotic energies known as Ice Magic. After a final betrayal by the people he protects, he finds himself transported to the one being who holds the key to his freedom.

The wards tattooed across Garyn's back ensure his total compliance, trapping him in his own form of slavery, until one of the traitorous Mages, the kind that devised this tortuous penance, is placed in his prison. Now manipulating his way to freedom rules the sex-shifting dragon's mind.

Garyn never expects Youltan to willingly sacrifice so much for a person he barely knows. Nor does he expect to find the a core of passionate heat that exists deep within Youltan's soul. The fight for survival takes on new dimensions and strains the very threads of their honor and morality.

But what would you expect....when you prod a Sleeping Dragon?

 



EXCERPT

 

Feet braced apart, arms extended to their maximum length, he stood and waited. There was nothing in his mind; his world was a blank slate, waiting to be filled, waiting for the agonizing pleasure… and the horrific pain.

Slowly, it began, drawing its energy from the very earth on which he stood. Pulsing writhing ropes of energy, of magic, of power, twined around themselves as they sought a rod, a bearer for their might.

Around his ankles they looped, slowly, like some starving creature seeking sustenance. And what they found seemed to please them, for they began to roll up the length of his body. Faster and faster they twined, their colors the brilliant blue that exists in the heart of every fire, the icy white of the coldest glacier, a sharp glaze of power blinding all who dared watch this spectacle.

Up around his knees they crept, gaining confidence and speed with every second. On and on, around his waist, over his chest, across his shoulders until his head jerked back as if snapped by some unknown entity.

Blood-red lips parted, a scream locked within a frozen throat, and a fall of silver white hair blew madly around his form in a wind created by power and magic. Bright lavender eyes snapped open to reveal luminescent sparks of pure white that illuminated those strange orbs, the eyes of an alien-one, and the eyes of the demented.

Then the power seemed to lash out at its conduit, raising him to his toes as wave after wave of pure energy penetrated his body, gained a purpose, grew in its strength.

His body arched, his arms flying above his head as the sheer strength of the thing that possessed him brought him to his toes, building and building until his whole person was one shining, glowing being that seemed almost too beautiful to view, yet too sinister and compelling to look away from.

Suddenly, a cry erupted from his throat, loud, agonized. The cry echoed over the land as the very earth began to quake beneath his feet.

His piercing scream startled the onlookers, the curious who had gathered to view this unusual feat, to watch what both heaven and hell had wrought and then left to travel this land that they called their own.

But they were too stunned to look away, transfixed.

As he continued to scream, cry after cry of ecstatic pain, the energy that converged on his body began to coagulate, to meld into one large beam of power.

Still screaming, he forced his arms toward the pulsing dome that surrounded the land, the thing that honor and history demanded he tend to, no matter the cost.

His sudden silence was almost as unnerving as his screams had been, as the world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, as the tension built around the young man, as the very gods seemed to tremble in fear.

Then, as the tension built to a plateau, then nothing. Soon the people began to breathe easy, thinking the show was over, then one final high-pitched scream exploded from his mouth.

And with that cry, a monstrous beam of light and power leapt from his body. Blue, silver, white, it all mended and swirled as warring colors shot from his body, his eyes, his mouth, following its given path, striking the shields with an audible crash that almost sounded like the shrieking cry of pure crystal shattering.

His body gave way in the face of such a massive energy burst, but the power would not let his body fall. It supported him, swirled around him almost lovingly, then began to drain the very life force from his body.

Head tossed back to its farthest, hair whipping around that face, obscuring its near beauty from the frightened yet silent watchers, his body bowed and his knees bent as he fought to retain some of himself from the hungry energies that sought to leach his very essence from his body.

Trembling and panting, he whimpered once as the beam began to lose its brilliant illumination, then faded altogether, growing weaker and weaker as the conduit struggled to reclaim part of himself from the massive outpouring of power.

Then, suddenly, almost as if it had never been, the beam of light dispersed, exploded into a million glittering sparkles, before disappearing cleanly from sight.

With a groan, the conduit dropped to his knees, his body falling backwards as all the energy seemed to leave with the passing of the beam.

He knelt there, supple body bent backwards, breath struggling in his chest, as his strange, lavender eyes drifted shut.

Then, as he took his first full breath, the watchers were amazed to see a shadowy mist exhaled into the brilliant heat of the day, a breath that seemed as cold as the arctic islands they once harnessed to create that shield that protected them from the evils of the outside world.

Then his whole body began to spasm.



About the Author

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

 

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

 

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