WILDCARD by Angela Knight #SciFi #Romance #BDSM @changelingpress

 

Sci-Fi Romance, BDSM

Date Published: November 22, 2024

 

 

 

Passion’s the pot when Rowan Kerr draws the Wildcard.

 

Though she lives in a world of Beyonce and iPhones, Indra Fox thinks she may be an alien. She’s too strong, too fast, and heals too quickly to be merely human. But she doesn’t know for sure, because her parents refused to tell her. Nor would they explain why she -- and her equally superhuman best friend, Diana Newman -- were raised to be warriors.

When their families are murdered, Indra and Diana seek revenge on their killers, Satan’s Horsemen. Then Diana is kidnapped, and Indra goes undercover at a strip club the gang owns to discover where her friend has been taken.

But when Rowan Kerr walks into the club, Indra realizes he’s even more powerful than she is. Rowan says he knows who she really is and what she was created to do, but she must go with him to learn the truth.

Indra will do anything to save Diana. Including embracing her destiny as something more than human.

Rowan thinks Indra could be the teammate -- and lover -- he dreams of. But she’s mad as hell about being kept in ignorance, and she’s convinced that she’s been betrayed by the woman he works for. What’s worse, she’s not wrong. Can he convince her to take a chance on him? And can Indra and Rowan defeat the very real aliens who are behind Diana’s abduction?

 

They’d better, or humanity will pay the price for their failure.

 

 

 

EXCERPT

Rowan

I eyed the long, low stucco building as I got out of the car.

Pink neon depicted the outline of a writhing nude woman with a tail and cat ears wrapped around a purple neon stripper pole. More neon read “Pole Katz Gentleman’s Club,” in red.

You sure this is the right address? I asked my computer implant.

Qubit’s silky female voice replied, Her nanos ping from this location, and have been doing so for five hours a night for thirty-eight days. There’s a 93.8 percent chance she’s working here.

Why? She sure doesn’t need the money. I frowned at the neon stripper. Has to be hunting.

Odds are running at 87.6, Qubit agreed.

Indra Fox was going to be about as happy to see me as a serial killer finding cops at the door. And for the same reason.

I headed for the purple awning over the club’s entrance. Even without enhanced senses, I’d have been able to hear the music -- Beyonce purring about getting frisky in a limo.

Qubit displayed results from sensor scans and web searches along the periphery of my visual field, flashing the club’s layout and the number of people inside -- one hundred and fifty-three patrons and staff. Of those, one hundred and fifty-two were Nats -- natural humans. There was only one who wasn’t. Indra Fox.

Double doors led into a narrow, black-walled foyer vibrating with music just short of deafening. To my left stood a cashier’s window where a bored-looking woman in a bare-midriff Pole Katz T manned a Square station. A sign over the window informed me of the twenty-dollar cover charge.

“Hi, there,” the cashier purred, giving me an approving once-over.

Pulling out my wallet, I peeled off a twenty and handed it over.

“Thanks,” she said. “Enjoy.”

“I’m sure I will.” I turned to find a narrow-eyed bouncer glowering by the curtained entry to the main room. He wore black chinos and a black T that said SECURITY in all caps. He looked the part, too -- six-foot-three, 232.8 pounds, per Qubit’s sensors -- with skin the color of teak, a shaved head, and full-sleeve tats on massive arms. Judging from his expression, he didn’t like the looks of me. Probably because big as he was, I was bigger. I suspected he was also trying to figure out if I was a cop. Or worse, if I’d get drunk and disorderly, and if he could handle me if I did.

Dude, you wouldn’t have a prayer.

“Don’t touch the girls,” he warned. “Be a gentleman.”

“I’m never anything but.”

He looked dubious, but I gave him a twenty-dollar tip, and he relaxed as if reassured. Which might be a bit premature, depending on what happened with Fox.

I stepped past him through the curtained doorway into an eye-searing storm of thumping music and colored light. The club’s dark walls were covered with neon silhouettes of women in erotic poses, and the floor was scuffed dark wood. A curving translucent bar glowed to the right, edged in yet more neon.

You need to buy a drink first, Qubit told me. There’s an etiquette to patronizing these places, and you don’t want to draw attention.

Yeah, I’d hate to be conspicuous. I was six and a half feet tall. Conspicuous was pretty much baked into the cake. Snorting, I headed to the bar to collect an overpriced Scotch, then turned to work my way through the crowd as Qubit scanned for our target.

The focus of the room was an oval stage with a pair of sturdy chrome poles, a set of four steps at one end. A ring of plump chairs in red velvet surrounded it, occupied by rapt patrons. Additional groupings of chairs and tables clustered around that, mostly men, with a few couples scattered here and there.

A blonde Nat girl worked one of the poles to the cheers and hoots of the customers. I headed for the chairs around the stage.

If you sit there, you’ll be expected to tip every dancer, Qubit warned as I dropped into the sole unoccupied seat.

Money not being a problem -- one of the perks of working for Mama -- I shrugged. Fine. If Fox is dancing, I want to make eye contact. According to her file, the only one of us Indra had ever met was Diana Newman. I wanted to see how she’d react to me.

The blonde dancer bounced upward, grabbed the pole hand over hand and swung her way around it, arching her leanly muscled body into a seductive curve. She was down to a G-string and pasties, so she must be most of the way through her act.

I would have been interested, but I could smell her. Not that she smelled bad -- fresh sweat, some kind of floral shampoo and citrus body wash, a hint of mint from her mouthwash. But underneath that, she smelled Nat. So no, not my type, though she had the kind of lean grace you get from swinging around a pole for hours a day.

Frowning, I watched her spin and grind. Why hadn’t Mama ordered Indra Fox and Diana Newman picked up when their parents were murdered? Or if not then, once it became clear they were stalking the killers?

Instead, Mama had let the two run. Now Newman was offline too, and Fox was still killing assholes.

The blonde finished her routine. Absently, I held up a ten. The Nat sauntered over and knelt so I could tuck it into her G-string. Giving me a dazzling smile, she winked. “Want a lap dance?”

I smiled and shook my head. Looking disappointed, she stood and headed for the next bill. The guy who waved it looked a lot more enthusiastic.

This whole fucking thing is weird. Fox has capped four men in the past year. Why not pick her up before now? Mama doesn’t approve of merking people, even actual mercs.

It was a rhetorical question, but Qubit answered anyway. She didn’t share her reasoning.

There’s a shock.

Not that I was shedding any tears for Fox’s victims. According to the police files Qubit had hacked, they’d been members of Satan’s Horsemen, a mercenary gang suspected in a slew of illegal shit -- drug trafficking, prostitution, gun running, murder for hire. No wonder the cops didn’t care they’d ended up room temperature. Though judging by the crime scene pics, Fox’s temper was almost as nasty as mine.

The local po-po also suspected Pole Katz was run by the Horsemen, though a couple of raids had turned up jack in the way of evidence. All they’d managed to do was charge two girls with allowing a little too much groping during lap dances.

Any of the gang present?

 

 

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.

 

Author Links

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

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

 

Pre-Order Today

 

FALCON by Marteeka Karland #MCromance @changelingpress

 

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.

 

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

Author on Facebook

 

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

 

 

Pre-Order Today

Operation Nightfall: The Web of Spies by Karl Wegener #Espionage #Thriller #Giveaway

 

The Web of Spies

 

Espionage / Thriller

Date Published: 9/17/24

Publisher: FJK-KW Press

 

Former SOE operative Luba Haas and MI6 agent Natalie Jenkins secretly enter Poland in 1948 to meet with a sleeper agent and anti-communist insurgents, not realizing their mission has been compromised by a mole deep inside British intelligence. Hunted by both Soviet and Polish security services, they attempt a harrowing escape, not knowing whom they can trust as they try to outrun their pursuers.

Inspired by the true events of Poland's anti-communist insurgency, the Cambridge Five spy scandal, and a covert British operation to roll back communism to the borders of the USSR, Operation Nightfall: The Web of Spies sheds light on a lesser known story of the Cold War and immerses readers into the shadowy world of spy-versus-spy operations.

About the Author

Karl Wegener is a former Russian linguist, intelligence analyst, and combat interrogator who served in the U.S. Army and within the Intelligence Community during the Cold War.

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Goodreads

Instagram

Threads

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

Caprichos Books

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway 

Playing Tag on the Roof by Michael Dilanni Madera #SelfHelp

 

Recovering from a narcissistic family through love and psychedelics

 

Memoir, Self Help

Date Published: October 5, 2024

 

Growing up with a father who became Boston's most notorious investment fraudster since Charles Ponzi and a mother who abandoned the family to become a Buddhist nun, Michael Madera and his brothers played a dangerous game of tag on their three-story roof—a metaphor for the precarious childhood that would shape his life.

In this powerful memoir-meets-psychological-guide, Madera weaves together gripping family stories, professional insights from his work as a Harvard-trained psychologist, and original songs written over three decades to explore how childhood trauma ripples through generations and how we can heal. From traditional therapy to psychedelic-assisted treatment, from artistic expression to spiritual seeking, Madera charts an innovative path to recovery that speaks to anyone wrestling with family wounds. Through interactive elements including recorded original music, this genre-defying book invites readers to explore their own journey of transformation while witnessing how one man turned childhood chaos into a life of purpose and healing.

 

About the Author

Michael D. Madera is a psychologist, author, and executive coach with over 20 years of experience helping individuals and family businesses thrive. Trained at Harvard institutions, Michael now specializes in ketamine-assisted executive coaching and psychotherapy and breathwork facilitation, supporting clients through innovative healing modalities. In October 2024, he released Playing Tag on the Roof: Recovering from a Narcissistic Family through Love and Psychedelics, a powerful exploration of personal recovery and transformation.

As a published author, Michael Madera’s articles in the Family Business press have gained significant recognition, frequently ranking among the most downloaded and included in collections of the best work in the field. His expertise has been sought after by executives and family-owned enterprises across the globe.

In addition to his coaching work, Michael collaborates with colleagues to lead transformative plant medicine retreats in Costa Rica, focusing on flourishing and building supportive communities. Outside of professional pursuits, Michael is the lead of a Boston-based dance band and enjoys playing tennis, soccer, and ice hockey. He lives near Boston with his wife and two college-age sons.

 

Contact Links

Website

LinkedIn

BookBuzz

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

B&N

DANINE by Alice Gene #RomCom #UrbanFantasy @changelingpress

Rom Com, Urban Fantasy

Date Published: November 15, 2024

 

 

Michael has enrolled at The Familiar Training Academy to be paired with the familiar who’ll be at his side for life. Only, the Academy has chosen to put him with their problem child. And he’s supposed to teach her obedience?

Danine hangs out with wild raccoons and has no intention of taking orders. But Michael makes the bond so sweet, she has to stick around for more. When a class project gets her lost in a charmed forest, will he find her?

 

 

EXCERPT

 

For some reason, the administrator was nervous. As a brand-new student, Michael Bedford should have been the anxious one. After all, he was entering the Familiar Training Academy as a rank amateur sorcerer. The coursework would test even the brightest students, and he’d have to take charge of a familiar.

As of right now, he had no idea what sort of person they’d linked him to. And not just person. His familiar would also be a shifter… able to change into an animal. She could be any species at all, and within minutes of meeting her, he’d have to bond with her physically.

No pressure there, right? Wrong. He was going to have to perform with a perfect stranger. He’d never had a problem in that area, but this was different. In fact, he’d been looking forward to it ever since he’d received the acceptance letter from the Academy. How they got along now would color the rest of their time together, probably until one of them died.

“Um.” The administrator cleared his throat. “We’ve sent folks to find Danine. She should be here any minute.”

“Can you tell me more about her?” Like what kind of creature he’d be taking to bed as soon as she arrived.

“Danine is… well… special to all of us,” the administrator said.

“How special?”

“Bear in mind, our selection was based on quantitative measures of your personality and needs,” the man said. “Highly scientific.”

Something was definitely off here. The man was dodging Michael’s questions. Had their measurements paired him with something truly unpalatable? Maybe a banana slug or dung beetle. Maybe something dangerous like one of those frogs indigenous people used to make poison for their darts. If he licked her at the wrong time, he might end up dead. Or stoned out of his mind.

“Let’s try this another way,” Michael said. “Is she animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

“Ha-ha. Good one.” The man fidgeted with his pen. “She’s definitely animal.”

Brother. At least they were narrowing it down. “Mammal or marsupial? Feline? Canine? Ungulate? She’s not venomous, is she?”

Laughter again, this time high pitched. “Not at all, and she’s had all her shots.” The man continued to laugh, this time at his own joke. It hadn’t been all that funny.

“Then, we’re talking mammal,” Michael said.

“I must stress that you are the sorcerer here and she the familiar. She needs to obey you. Obedience in all things.” Michael had never expected a woman to obey him. If he was lucky, a woman might agree with him, but in his experience, trying to boss a woman around was only asking for trouble.

“Oh, my.” The man checked his watch. “She knew she was supposed to meet you twenty minutes ago. Where is she?”

“Maybe I should come back at another time.” And miss out on bonding, at least for now. Damn it. He’d counted on settling into his rooms here with some really good sex. As long as he didn’t have to do it with a banana slug.

Finally, a scratching came at the window, like claws against the glass. The administrator looked in that direction. “Well, here she is now.”

Michael glanced over to find a raccoon balanced precariously on the windowsill. It continued to swipe at the glass with its paws. The administrator got up, went to the window, and opened it with some effort. The buildings were old here, and no doubt things got stuck.

“Where have you been?” the administrator demanded. “Bedford has been here for a good fifteen minutes.”

“Twenty,” Michael corrected, although his watch said it was more like twenty-five. The raccoon sniffed a bit, sampling the air for… what? Human scent? Michael’s? Raccoon faces didn’t give much away. Then, it climbed down into the room and approached the chair next to Michael’s. It left a trail of dirty paw prints all the way across the floor.

“Danine, this is Michael Bedford, your new master,” the administrator said.

About the Author

Alice Gene likes her romance hot.  She writes in a number of different genres, including paranormal, historical, and contemporary.  As Alice Gaines, she’s a USA Today bestselling author.

Alice has a PhD from UC Berkeley and lives in an apartment the size of a postage stamp in Oakland.  She loves knitting, singing in her church choir, and funking out with Tower of Power. She also loves hearing from her readers!

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today