TERROR by J. Hali Steele #LGBTQ #MotorcycleClub @changelingpress

 

(Scorned Devil’s MC)

 

LGBTQ, Motorcycle Club, M/M

Date Published: November 8, 2024

 

 

Terror: Once, he had been Terrance Holton, a young gay man who learned to shove what he is so deep inside himself, he almost forgot. He grew up to be Terror and he is the Vice President of one of the baddest outlaw motorcycle clubs in Pennsylvania. The consequence of denying who he really is turns Terror into a threat to everyone around him, and eventually lands Terror in jail. There he connects with a beautiful older man who teaches Terror to love who he is.

Tinman: Timothy Jacoby gave years of his life to leading a motorcycle club that no longer exists. He did anything for his MC and his brothers, never hiding who he was. Then Tinman got arrested and sent to prison, where he serves ten years. When Tinman meets a younger biker who hides his gayness from the crew he rides with, he vows to keep Terror safe, but he hides his own past as a biker. Unable to forget their blistering encounters, the minute Tinman is released, he’s hellbent on finding Terror again. This time he’ll keep his prize.

Both men’s secrets are about to collide, and they just might blow the Scorned Devils MC to smithereens.

EXCERPT

Terror

Goddamn Dread and his fuck-the-world attitude. Defying every norm, the man flaunted his desire for other men. Took them without a care for what anyone thought. Yet he was still the most respected Scorned Devils MC club member, the MC club’s sergeant at arms, and other MCs feared him as if he were some kind of hero with super powers or some shit.

Back then, Terror had detested Dread -- mostly for causing his own dormant childhood feelings to resurface.

Now Terror was returning home from prison feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Having heard from Cat, a man Terror had introduced to biker culture and the Scorned Devils MC days before his release, he was aware of the showdown between Cat and Dread. He’d told Cat to pack up and return to Kansas. Terror didn’t even go home to get his bike. He had bigger plans. He couldn’t wait to see the man who’d taken up so much space in Terror’s head while he’d been locked up for nearly three years. Terror had berated Dread mercilessly about being gay. Treated him even worse whenever Terror heard about Dread screwing any man who would have him.

When he’d been arrested, Battle Graves, their MC president, had been the one to show up to bail Terror out. He’d turned down Bat’s offer of legal representation. The bastard Terror had beaten to within an inch of his life? Shit, he’d do that again if he had to. No reason to fight the charges and have his brothers find out what went down in that motel room in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.

At that time, Terror hadn’t been ready to come out.

He’d been named Terrance Holton by his drugged-out single mom, who’d simply vanished one night. Wading through the foster care system at a young age, Terror had realized he might be gay. Afraid and beat down, he’d buried Terrance deep in his psyche. Deep enough to almost forget the boy existed.

As he grew older, nothing scared the man he became -- an angry-as-hell bastard who cared for no one. Made everyone call him Terror. If they didn’t, he whipped their asses.

He came to embrace one thing -- an old motorcycle he’d stolen from the shed behind his last foster home. It was never reported because that motherfucker would never talk to anyone again.

That motorcycle… the speed, his disdain for the law, it led to Terror’s prospecting with the Scorned Devils MC.

Meeting the club’s sergeant at arms changed everything.

Now he was back. And he was ready to show his true colors.

Would his brothers and other clubs receive Terror the same way?

* * *

Standing in the newly built loft of Hell’s Lair, the place Scorned Devils called home, Terror looked down at Dread, who had moved from the room used for meetings to sit in a chair outside the door. Dread’s preference had always been big, hairy bastards. What would he think about Terror’s fuller, muscular body? A body he’d worked on every day in the prison gym…

The blond hair he used to wear short was now in a ponytail. He tossed it over his shoulder and stroked his beard. Another noticeable change. He’d grown a full beard.

Damn, Dread was still a fine motherfucker.

Strangely, it wasn’t Dread’s green eyes that scorched a path through Terror’s mind. Another face emerged in his thoughts as he finger-combed his beard. A man who, much like Dread, never gave a fuck what others believed about him. A prisoner who ran the cell block Terror had occupied for the last three years.

Rattled Terror to imagine blue eyes he’d assumed he’d forget. Blue eyes that had looked up at him many nights when Terror plundered the man’s sweet asshole.

I. Am. Gay.

Glad he hadn’t given his virginal asshole to anyone, Terror shoved old memories away as he walked down the steps to confront the one person who could have him any way he desired.

With a look, Terror chased the other members out and sent Battle to the office before he confronted Dread. “You and me need to talk.”

About the Author

A former MC associate, J. Hali Steele loves anything with wheels, including motorcycles, classic automobiles, and race cars. A retired winning ex-quarter mile drag racer, J. Hali often angles to get her butt back in the driver’s seat!

J. Hali is a multi-published, best-selling author of romance in Contemporary MC, ReligErotica, Paranormal, Fantasy, and LGBTQ stories where humans, vampyres, shapeshifters, and angels collide – and they collide a lot! When J. Hali’s not writing or reading, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a cat in her lap and a cup of her favorite beverage of the moment.

 

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Dreams Eclipsed by Kira Stone #SciFi #Romance @changelingpress

 

Sci-Fi, Futuristic Romance

Date Published: November 8, 2024

 

 

Janet's orgasms are earth-shattering. At least they are when she's Dreaming in the Zodiac, a virtual reality world created by Dr. Archer Tate. The problem is that, technically, a system shutdown shouldn't be possible, especially not from a mere cyber-orgasm. Gamely, Janet reveals every intimate detail of her Dreams for the team's troubleshooting analysis but several weeks later, the cause of the anomalous malfunction remains a mystery.

Archer blames Janet for the Zodiac's glitch. He just can't figure out how she's triggering it. Doesn’t help that listening to her reveal her lusty Zodiac Dreams, orgasm by orgasm, is driving him insane with lust for her. For the sake of the project and his sanity, he decides to Dream with her so he can catch her in the act and put this business to rest.

There's more to Janet's orgasmic Zodiac Dreaming than mere mechanics. It takes someone who knows Janet's heart as well as her mind and body to create the disruptive orgasm. When the team psychologist, Liam, insists he's better suited for the job, Archer realizes he could lose something more precious to him than Zodiac. Will sharing Janet with Liam solve their problems, or will he lose her forever?

 

EXCERPT

 

Janet Widgeon sauntered into the smoky jazz club, her stiletto heels clicking on the varnished wood floor. Notes of sweet, sassy blues rolled down the dimly lit hall to welcome her. She was early, far earlier than she normally arrived at the Zodiac Club, but pacing in her apartment hadn’t lessened her anxiety.

Is he as excited about tonight as I am? Is he already here, waiting for me?

The burly bouncer stationed at the entrance greeted her. “Evenin’, Miss Janet.” His thin black lips curved slightly upward as he took in her skintight, siren red dress. High praise coming from the stoic man.

Though she wore three-inch heels, she had to stretch to kiss the beefy man’s cheek. “Evening, Trent. How’s the mood tonight?”

“Hotter than Maria’s gumbo.”

Janet chuckled. “Don’t let her hear you say that, or her next batch will violate our fire code.”

Trent ducked his head in agreement. “True that.”

She fingered her slim, sequined purse -- it was the same shade as the dress and shoes -- as she surrendered to her curiosity. “Any messages for me?”

“None of the friendly sort, if that’s what you’re asking.” Even in the dim light she could see his brown eyes sparkle with amusement.

With a nod, she deftly spun on the points of her shoes and headed toward the bar’s crowded interior.

“Going to your office, Miss, or should I ask one of the girls to bring a glass of white wine to your table?”

Her gaze roamed the dim interior as she considered her answer. “I’m far too restless to concentrate on paperwork tonight. I think I’ll mingle first, and then find a seat when Jim begins his first set.”

“You have yourself a fine evening then, Miss Janet.”

Janet penetrated the hazy atmosphere where a broad mix of patrons congregated around small tables in front of the stage. Tonight’s headlining act was a real coup for the club. Jim Byrnes owned a nightspot in Vancouver and rarely played anyplace else. How her manager had sweet-talked him into taking a trip to her little place in bayou country was a secret that man wasn’t telling.

A relatively new kid on the national jazz scene, Chris Thomas King was currently warming up the room with good, old-fashioned songs. Janet hummed along with his rendition of the old Blues classic John Law as she circulated through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with old and new friends.

Jim’s name was a big draw, and Janet was pleased to see her staff keeping up with the clientele’s high demand for fresh, full glasses. Most of the customers wouldn’t want a meal so late at night, just a few Cajun snacks to keep the alcohol company. Janet noted that Maria and her kitchen staff seemed to have those requests under control as well.

There was only one question remaining on her mind. By the time she completed a full circuit of the room, Janet had that answer too. He’s not here.

Instead of being disappointed, a tremor of excitement rippled along her spine. He wasn’t here. Yet. But he would come. She was sure of it.

Janet signaled for a barmaid to bring over a drink as she sat down at an empty table, the one reserved for her exclusive use, in a dark corner at the right edge of the stage. Usually, she invited others to join her, but not this time. The only person whose company she desired now knew where to find her -- and would, sometime before the night was over.

It had been exactly a month ago that she’d first met him, a friend of a friend who shared her fondness for delta blues and late-night conversation. They’d talked until dawn threatened to cross the line from speculation to fact. He’d left her with a passionate kiss and a promise to return the following Saturday.

In fact, he’d come back again and again to the Zodiac Club, never staying beyond closing, never asking if he could take her home or inviting her to his place. But after their last encounter, she knew their next meeting would end differently. The sexual tension between them had hit a boiling point. Next time, they’d either turn up the heat until their rising passion was finally given a chance to burn, or they’d shut off the gas for good.

And now that night had arrived.

Janet sat alone and waited for him to appear through the blues of Chris Thomas King and then Jim Byrnes’ opening set. She enjoyed both musicians thoroughly, yet part of her remained aware of the lingering emptiness beside her.

As Jim’s second set began, Janet succumbed to a trickle of doubt. Had he forgotten about their date? Lost interest? Met someone else? Normally she didn’t allow the presence or absence of a man at her side to cast doubt on her self-worth, but this man was the exception to every personal rule she had about dating. She’d been so sure he felt the same way and now…

“Why do you wear such a sad face, cherè?” a rich, masculine voice asked from the shadows behind her.

She gasped in surprise. She’d never heard him approach, but somehow he stood beside her, a living advertisement for sin.

Inside the dark club, his face looked chalk white. The rest of him was encased in black from neck to toe. A lightweight ribbed turtleneck tucked into a pair of pleated pants. A sports coat hung over one arm, the opposite hand rested in his pants’ pocket. So much the man she remembered, still more shadow than substance. The only part of him that vibrated with life was the pair of quicksilver eyes which now pierced her soul.

Irritated that he’d made her doubt herself, she snapped, “You’re like a damn ghost.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he pointed out, moving to her side.

Janet knew his courtly manners wouldn’t allow him to sit in the empty chair until it was offered. She’d keep him on pins and needles for a few more seconds to satisfy her moment of pique. “You’ve missed most of the show. Jim Byrnes, for heaven’s sake!”

“Is this transgression so severe you’d rather I go?” His whisky-smooth voice whispered against her ear.

Pure lust snaked down her spine. How could she be inches away from orgasm just from the sound of his voice?

 

About the Author

Kira Stone has been around the block…the writer’s block, that is.

From vamps and witches to historical heroes, from futuristic scientists to paranormal corporate executives, from Canadian werewolves to off-world shifters, Kira has written about them all. Manlove has sparked hot and heavy in many of her plots, but Kira also finds a lucky lady to keep the sexy heroes company from time to time. While Scotland remains her favorite place in the world, Kira is constantly in search of new adventures to add to the creative primordial ooze where her best stories are born.

 

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Memories of MK-ULTRA by Bill Yarborough

Coming of Age / Psychological /Historical Thriller / Metaphysical

 

 

Memories of MK-ULTRA traces the development of three siblings from their early childhood—marred by harrowing mind control experiences in the CIA’s MK-ULTRA program—through their coming of age during the turbulent 60s and into their early adulthood in the 1980s. As the story develops, an incredible chain of events uncover the dark forces shaping their lives . . . until an unexpected source of light appears.

 

About the Author

Bill Yarborough has enjoyed writing for many years. Manhattan Book Group will publish his debut novel, Memories of MK-ULTRA, in September 2024. The story is inspired by repressed memories from his young childhood where he, his brother, and his sister recall undergoing experiments of the CIA’s MK-ULTRA mind control program. Bill is also working on a sequel to his first novel, and his short story “Night Mother” was published by Prolific Press in an anthology of short stories, Jitter Issue # 8. Bill also co-authored emotional health articles in The Diablo Gazette Magazine, and he and his wife, Inge, are working on a book entitled EFT on Steroids.

 

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DEADLINE by William G. Hyland, Jr. #Thriller

Fiction Thriller

Date Published: 11-01-2024

Publisher: SIMON & SCHUSTER/ARCHWAY

 

 

You may not believe in ghosts, but you cannot deny terror.

 

To uncover the truth about her mother’s mysterious disappearance years ago, the estranged daughter of a renowned illusionist must overcome her fear and spend three nights in her father’s secluded gothic mansion, where he has vowed to return from the grave. Helped by an adventurous reporter, she discovers a terrifying childhood secret that thrusts her into a world of deception and jeopardy, confronting a haunting supernatural presence and dark family secrets.

 

 DEADLINE is a supernatural, suspense thriller with a strong female protagonist, a deeply terrifying antagonist and a series of disturbing surprises that build to an ultimate shocker of an ending, blurring the lines between reality and illusion.

 

 

About the Author

WILLIAM G. HYLAND JR. is the award nominated author of four widely praised historical biographies, published by St. Martin’s/Thomas Dunne Books, (2009) and Regnery Books (2019). He is also a member of Mystery Writers of America, the American Screenwriters Association and has attended numerous writing seminars including Harlan Coben’s and Lee Child’s Master Class Fiction Writing Courses on BBC MAESTRO. He holds a B.A. from the University of Alabama and J.D. from Samford University. Before law school, the author held a TOP SECRET security clearance and worked for the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency.

 

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RYDER by Jamie Targaet #MC #Romance @changelingpress

 

(Hounds of Hell MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense

Date Published: November 1, 2024

 

 

Margot -- I've loved Ryder since we were kids, but he's never been the type to stick with anyone for long. Being a deputy sheriff means I see the world differently--by the law. He’s the opposite. The Mafia took my father from me. When they return to threaten everything I care about, including Ryder, I realize the line between right and wrong isn’t so clear. If we’re going to survive this, I’ll need Ryder’s strength. Maybe this time, we’ll face danger together.

Ryder -- Margot’s been right in front of me for years, but I’m the guy who never sticks around. Commitment? Not for me. Now she’s all I see. When the Mafia comes after the Hounds, everything is at stake. Margot’s not just a deputy sheriff -- she’s the woman I’ve always needed. The woman I love. I’ll die before I let anything happen to her.

EXCERPT

Ryder

The next day Ryder smiled to read the text from Margot Donner.

Margot: If you still think Razor is okay with it, I’ll come see you later today.

They’d become close after her mother’s death. She was the only woman he’d ever kept as a friend for years and never fucked. Yeah, she was a cop, but she was one of his favorite people.

“What are you grinning about?” Beast asked, shifting pillows behind Ryder’s back.

Ryder wasn’t admitting to shit. He had a reputation to maintain. “Just waiting to hear Axel got these fuckers,” Ryder told him, groaning as the bigger biker hauled him up into a sitting position on the bed.

“That’s it, huh?” Beast went over to the desk in Ryder’s room at the clubhouse, lifted off a tray that held his lunch.

Beast’s dark-eyed gaze was filled with humor. His muscular friend, with his wild fringe of dark hair, towered over Ryder in the bed. Once he situated the tray in front of Ryder, his beefy arms folded across the wide expanse of his chest. The face of the dark wolf inked on his friend’s forearm drew his attention with its sinister gaze.

“Maybe,” Ryder said, steadying the tray on his lap, shaking his head. His MC brothers were still feeding him soup and applesauce. “Can I get something solid?”

Beast shook his head. “Nah, you need to heal up.”

Ryder snorted. “I’m full of fucking holes. I’m surprised this shit isn’t running right out of me the minute I eat it.”

The chime of Beast’s phone had him fishing his device out of his pocket. “Yep?”

The deep voice on the other end of the phone sounded like Hero.

Ryder tried hard to listen -- he knew his twin brother was handling things, especially with his girl in danger. Still irked him greatly that he couldn’t be there to fight at Axel’s side. To have his back. That had always been the deal between them. To always have each other’s back.

As Beast listened to whatever Hero said, Ryder let his head fall back against the pillows with a deep sigh. Alex, now Axel, had been born first by seven minutes. A fact his twin had never thrown in his face, never used at all. And Axel certainly earned the part of the older brother even though they were identical. Axel could be counted on when Ryder needed him. If he was hung over from a night of partying, Axel let him stay home and took up the slack at work. When he got himself into the occasional fight, Axel tipped the scales if he’d underestimated the other guy. Or came to bail him out.

Ryder also had spent years watching his brother earn everyone’s respect. His brother and Hero made all the business decisions for the garage. When it came to dirty jobs the club needed doing, Axel was among the first approached. Cool-headed and calculating, Axel didn’t miss a damn thing.

Ryder didn’t command the same respect. He wasn’t disrespected. And he got important jobs from the club. Okay, maybe Ryder wasn’t as cool and calculated as his twin. But he was a good shot, a damn good fighter with any weapon or hand-to-hand combat. And when crazy was called for? He could do crazy all day long.

Yes, Ryder was a ladies’ man. Axel took comfort from the occasional sweet butt although not to the extent Ryder did. He liked the ladies and didn’t limit himself to the ones who came to every party fishing for a Hound to claim her as his old lady. He liked his women fast and flashy, like his bikes. Ryder appreciated a nice ride.

Unlike his bikes, he never stayed with any woman more than a few weeks. “Love” was amazing the first few weeks. But as attachment tried to take hold, Ryder felt himself being strangled by those thin vines of commitment.

“It’s done,” Beast told him, ending the call. “Sounds like a fucking free-for-all. Sheriff Sawyer got to the Mafia guys first, then once our guys got there, Axel beat the shit out of his girl’s ex. Probably the same fucker who shot you and killed Elsie and Clyde over at Cowboy Pete’s.”

Ryder smiled. He knew Axel would deal with it.

“The guy dead?” Ryder asked, bracing for regret. It would have been nice to put down the guy who shot him full of holes -- or gave the order -- himself.

“Nah,” Beast told him. “Sawyer took him in.”

That could spell trouble down the road.

“At least Axel’s old lady is a little safer,” the other biker told him as he wandered out of his room. “Until they let him out.”

Axel’s old lady.

Everyone called her Angel but if he remembered rightly, her name was Sadie. Was she his twin’s old lady?

Yeah, the way it started out, Ryder’d assumed she was some sort of pity thing his brother had taken on. But weeks went by after she decided to hide in Mercy, and his brother stayed close to her all that time. By the time her ex and his men found her, yeah, he had to admit they’d felt like a couple. The young woman looked at his brother like a knight in shining armor. That wasn’t anything new. Ryder had seen that before. His brother had a soft spot for women and kids.

It wasn’t until the party Saturday night when Axel brought her to the clubhouse that it hit Ryder. The way his twin looked at her. Damn. He should have noticed before. His brother had found love, and he knew next to nothing about the woman except she’d been horribly abused by her ex and looked at his brother like he hung the fucking moon.

Shouldn’t he know something about his brother’s girl? If she was in Axel’s life, she’d be in his too. Hell, they’d brought her to the clubhouse a couple of days ago to keep her safe. Ryan heard her hustling around beyond his door. She never popped in to check on him though.

Lying still with the pain bleeding vividly into his awareness, Ryder reached for his pain meds, taking a double dose now that he knew his brother was safe. His brother had saved his girl and beat the fucking bad guy. Axel had to be feeling pretty good about things about now.

Ryder tried to shift on the bed to make himself comfortable, willing the pills to take the pain away sooner rather than later.

He and Axel couldn’t have been further apart in life right now. His brother was the conquering hero, setting things right for his girl and his dumbass twin brother. Ryder went home with a girl, and she got shot in the face, killed. Ryder got shot with her, providing the enemy with a weak board in the fence. They had to take him out of the hospital to keep him safe from the Mafia until Axel resolved it. Didn’t that make him a useless pile of shit?

Before his eyes slid shut, his gaze fell on his phone. He realized he’d never answered Margot, and he wanted to before he crashed. Lifting the phone in his shaking hand, he read back over the conversation.

Margot: If you still think Razor is okay with it, I’ll come see you later today.

About the Author

Jamie Targaet is the author of the Hounds of Hell MC. She's anxious to introduce you to this club of gorgeous, dominant men and the lucky women who surrender to them. The ride is going to get wild at times, not going to lie. But there's thrilling action, scorching hot sex scenes, and all the feels. 

Jamie writes erotic romance for Changeling Press, a little fanfiction on the side, and she's an aspiring horror writer in another life. She enjoys time with her family (including the fur babies). She likes good horror movies and shows, emo metal and classic rock, and time spent in other worlds writing and reading. She loves hearing from readers and is looking forward to hearing from you.

 

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