Tuesday, October 28, 2025

A Vicious Love Burns by Sophie Barnes #mystery #romance

 


House of Croft, Book 5

 

Murder Mystery Romance

Date Published: October 28, 2025



Danger isn't just coming—it's personal…

 

Adrian Croft has sacrificed everything to protect his family. But when a brutal string of murders rock London, he's briefly distracted from the ruthless heir of an Irish crime lord—an enemy with ties to Adrian's darkest past. With Bow Street floundering and innocent lives at stake, Adrian steps back into the fray… and the cost is more than he ever expected.

Five months pregnant and desperate to be by her husband's side, Samantha Croft returns from her wintry retreat in the country—only to find herself in the crosshairs of the man determined to destroy her husband. Finn O'Leary doesn't care who he has to break to bring Adrian down, and Samantha may be his most valuable target.

 

House of Croft Series


A Vengeful King Rises

House of Croft, Book One

 

A Tainted Heart Bleeds

House of Croft, Book Two

 

A Ruthless Angel Weeps

House of Croft, Book Three

 

A Deceptive Game Ensues

House of Croft, Book Four

 

A Vicious Love Burns

House of Croft, Book Five

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CKHWD83L

 

 

About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author Sophie Barnes writes historical romance novels in which the characters break away from social expectations in their quest for happiness and love. Having written for Avon, an imprint of Harper Collins, her books have been published internationally in numerous languages. With a fondness for travel, Sophie has lived in six countries, on three continents, and speaks English, Danish, French, Spanish, and Romanian with varying degrees of fluency. Ever the romantic, she married the same man three times—in three different countries and in three different dresses.

When she’s not busy dreaming up her next swoon worthy romance novel, Sophie enjoys spending time with her family, practicing yoga, baking, gardening, watching romantic comedies and, of course, reading.

 

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Monday, October 27, 2025

Convention of Dragons by Emily Carrington #fantasy @ChangelingPress




LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Polyamorous, Shapeshifters

Date Published: October 31, 2025



When duty calls, where will the heart go?

Joel’s twin has been hurt, and Joel decides to stay with him rather than join his new lovers across the sea. But fate, and a serial killer, have other plans.

Parisa and Noah are drifting apart and without Joel they might lose everything they’ve built.

Can this new throuple fight together to win their happiness or will evil triumph?




EXCERPT

 

“Hooo-elll…”

It was Parisa’s voice, but he couldn’t touch her physically or telepathically. All Joel’s senses were blurred.

Joel wasn’t sure if he’d passed out, but everything was foggy. Not dark, since he had no concept of light beyond the meaning of the word, but misty. It was like the fog that clung to his face and arms, to his hearing and sense of smell when he’d visited England thirty years ago. He’d never forget that sensation of everything being muffled. The sound of his own voice had been right, but the tapping of his cane tip on the cobblestones in London had been oddly removed from the rest of him. He’d actually fallen a couple of times in London, not because he couldn’t feel the ground but because he had tried too hard to rely on the sound of his cane to tell him the depth of things like cracks and steps.

Now, although the sense of being wrapped in cotton persisted, he felt even more cut off from the world because he was really two people. He couldn’t attend to his own movements or speech while living in Jules’s head. Especially not when Jules was so distant from the world. His whole spirit seemed caught up in confusion and fear. So although Joel and Jules sometimes lived in each other’s heads for brief moments, there had never been such a fundamental separation from physical reality.

Dimly, he could feel a hand caressing his face. He tried to reach up and catch those fingers, but his arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. He attempted another connection with Jules, one that would allow him to communicate more than just his confusion and to feel Jules’s sense of dislocation. That, too, failed.

Someone spoke then, their voice cutting through the fog. “Joel.” It was James, the dragon guarding him. “Joel, come back. Follow me if you’re turned around.”

He clung to those words and finally managed, by trailing after them in the psychic world, to reestablish himself in the realm of touch, hearing, and scent.

The person caressing his face paused and Parisa asked, “Can you hear me, Joel?”

“Yes,” he croaked, his throat dry.

“Drink,” she answered, and he opened his mouth, unsure if he would feel a glass against his lips or her cupped hand. He registered the water as cool and drank as palmfuls were brought to his lips. From where he’d heard Parisa’s voice, he’d expected the water to come from another angle. Maybe Noah was actually giving him the refreshing liquid.

“James?” he asked between mouthfuls.

“He’s not here,” Parisa said, “although I heard him too. It was like he somehow tapped into a telepathy that could be carried to more than one person.”

“Are either of you hurt?” Joel asked.

“No,” Parisa answered after a moment. He wondered what caused the hesitation. Then she explained. “Noah is shell-shocked, I think. He’s --”

“I’m fine,” Noah said firmly. “Just… sorry about…”

Struggling to raise his head, Joel felt hands tighten on his shoulders. He fought down the instantaneous panic that clawed at his throat. “Unless there’s a reason for me to be lying on my back,” he said as gently as he could manage, “I’d rather sit up.”

The hands released him and as he sat up, crossing his legs, he felt Parisa’s breath on his shoulder blade. He was still naked. He shivered and instinctively pulled his legs up to shield his stomach and softer bits. He wasn’t afraid of Parisa or Noah, but he felt vulnerable. “What happened?”

“There was an explosion,” Noah said, and he did sound a little shocky because his voice trembled. “Over at the other house, we think.”

“Definitely not here,” Parisa put in. “Do either of you need a towel? There aren’t robes in here, and I don’t think we should leave the bathroom until we get the all-clear.”

So, that was why his bare butt was on tile. “Did you two carry me in here?”

Again, there was that momentary pause. Then Parisa said, “I helped Noah and carried you, yes.”

Their location made sense even if nothing else did. As far as Joel knew, the bathroom might be the only room in the smaller house without windows.

Not like the one that had blown inward, injuring Jules.

He shivered as that realization, sent by his twin, hit him. Jules didn’t actually know it had been a window, but he’d had glass taken out of his arm so he’d made an educated guess. Joel said, “Soon as we can, I need to get to Jules. Something’s seriously wrong with him.”

“Can you feel him?” Parisa asked, her hand warm on his back.

“Not now but…” He shivered again, unable to help himself. “He was muffled, or that’s what it felt like. Like having your head wrapped in a blanket.”

Noah began, “Did he --”

Someone interrupted, throwing open the door. “Here they are,” said James, his voice tight.

“Good,” said a voice that came out slightly tinny. “Help is on the way but it’s a good hour out. See if you can move them to this building.”

“Will do.” James crouched, his voice coming from off to Joel’s right. “Are any of you hurt?”

Joel shook his head. “I’m fine. It didn’t happen here.” He reached out toward James’s voice, but Parisa caught his hand.

“Agent Tavery,” she said softly, “you’re bleeding.”

 

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her website.

 

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Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

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Friday, October 24, 2025

Free Fall by Lisabet Sarai #Erotica #SciFi



Lisabet Sarai talks about her new book...

My new novella Free Fall began with an impulse purchase. Just of fun, I was browsing the website of one of my favorite artists, James Help (https://goonwrite.com). His strikingly original pre-made covers always impress me, while his hilariously snarky demo titles often have me laughing out loud. Most of the time, unfortunately, the genres on which he focuses don’t match my work very well. On this visit, however, I noticed a cover that really spoke to me. It featured an evocative image of two beautiful women, one blonde and one brunette, sitting close together in some sort of a futuristic night club.

I didn’t have a book for this cover, but the drama and passion lurking in that image were so strong that I just had to buy it. The JPG file sat, untitled, on my hard disk for more than a year while I worked on other projects. Finally I cleared my WIP backlog and started thinking about what to write next. I pulled up the draft cover and got the same punch-in-the-gut feeling about the women that I’d experienced when I first saw it. I realized that I had to write their story—even though, at the start, I had no idea, aside from their obvious mutual attraction,  what that story might be.

Creating Free Fall was far more difficult that most of my writing projects. Usually when I begin a book, I have at least a mental outline, with the major events and the expected ending already established. With this novella, I was feeling my way, trying to discover just who Rain and Mariel were, why they were in love, and how they were going to survive. When I sat down to write the first chapter, it flowed onto the page, desperately erotic. After that, though, I really had to dig. The fact that this was science fiction made things even harder; that genre requires a delicate balance between imagination and plausibility. And sometimes too much thought and calculation can stifle inspiration.

Now that the book’s done, I’m pretty happy with it. It captures the sense of danger I felt when I first saw the cover, as well as the love-and-lust connection between the two protagonists.

I only hope my readers agree.



Blurb

Welcome to Xanadu. For its elite customers, a space-based paradise of pleasure. For the slaves who work there, hell orbiting Earth. 

Innocent and inexperienced, Mariel Linderman sells herself to Xanadu to rescue her farming family from starvation. Streetwise Rain Delgado accepts assignment as a Pleasure Rep in lieu of a prison sentence for murder. In a world that strictly prohibits same-sex relations, the passion that flares between them brings terrible risks. Their unexpected heart-and-soul connection turns their already precarious existence into a clandestine struggle for survival.

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FVVLV2N4

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0FVVLV2N4

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1878604

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/free-fall-lisabet-sarai/1148528199

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/free-fall-escape-from-xanadu

Books2Read UBL: https://books2read.com/u/mKeK0E

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/242662867-free-fall

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/free-fall-escape-from-xanadu-by-lisabet-sarai



PG Excerpt (Mariel)

With the moon on the other side of the planet, the port set in the outside wall shows the velvet blackness of space. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. Mariel yearns for peace.

Rain is the only thing that keeps her from disarming the outer door, flipping the double lever and stepping out into the void.

There’s no sense of movement, but as the station rotates the Earth swings back into view, its blue-green swirls luminous and jewel-like. From up here you can’t see the wildfires or the swathes of dead ocean.

Minutes crawl by. Her frantic pulse slows. Now there’s a deeper ache, as if a giant fist clutches at her heart. She closes her eyes and wills herself to be patient. There are a million reasons why her lover might be delayed.

Finally she hears the soft whoosh of the latch. Slinky and silent as a cat, her midnight-dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, Rain slips into the airlock and pushes the door shut. Then she reaches down to pull Mariel up and into her arms.

Wednesday, October 22, 2025

Holiday on the Rocks by Mary Lee Painter #Romcom

 


Romcom

Date Published: October 20, 2025



Seven years ago a couple fell headfirst into love and ran off to exchange vows in a fit of passion, only to have their dreams implode before the sun set on their wedding day. Now, as fate would have it, they find themselves trapped together for a friend’s destination holiday wedding with Allie determined to never see him again while Levi plans to win back the one he let slip away.

Because of a storm they find themselves alone at the vacation house with the unresolved tension shining through like a diamond. As the snow falls outside, they strike a deal—an unorthodox “closure plan” to finally put their past to rest. Bound by the twenty-four-hour understanding that they will spend one day together and then say goodbye forever.

With the glow of holiday lights surrounding them, Levi’s made it his mission to win back the one he let slip away.


About the Author

 

 Mary Lee Painter is the romcom author of The Other Fork in the Road (2024), Wild in Minnesota (2025), and her latest release, Holiday on the Rocks, has an October 20, 2025 publish date by Satin Romance. She has her first young adult romcom entitled Worst Idea Ever which will be published in March 2026 by Fire and Ice, and an adult romcom entitled Ding Dong, I'm Home to be released in July 2026 by Satin Romance. Mary Lee resides in Omaha, Nebraska.

 

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Bunny's Special Treat by Wanda VioletO #BDSM #Erotica

 


BDSM Erotica, Contemporary, Polyamorous

Date Published: October 31, 2025



Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Daddy Dom BDSM Erotica short story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

 

His Bunny. His rules. One night of denial becomes a lifetime of surrender.


I never dreamed being Max’s Bunny would feel like this. Owned, protected, and utterly consumed by his desire shouldn’t be the enticement, but pleasing Max, submitting to him, fulfills something inside me I didn’t know I was missing. Every touch, every command, every whispered promise reminds me I belong to him. But belonging comes with its own exquisite torment.

Daddy Jacob’s masquerade promises a night of temptation and denial, where every glance burns hotter and every stolen touch leaves me trembling on the edge. I ache for release, but Max’s rules are absolute: I come only when he allows it. And tonight, he intends to push me further than I’ve ever gone before.

Surrounded by power, lust, and dangerous devotion, I have only one truth to hold on to. I’m Max’s Bunny. Always.

 


EXCERPT

 

I traced my finger along the edge of the invitation, the gold filigree catching the late afternoon sunlight that streamed through my bedroom window. Not just any invitation. This was for Daddy Jacob’s Halloween masquerade, an exclusive gathering where only his closest circle received the embossed card resting in my trembling hands. I never would have imagined my life leading me here. A year ago, I couldn’t have imagined being Max’s bunny, his precious pet, his possession. Now, I wasn’t sure I could imagine not being Max’s bunny.

Which brought me back to the invitation. I knew I was expected to be there, but I had assumed I would go as Max’s pet. Seeing my name on my own invitation made me feel a kind of acceptance I hadn’t realized I needed. My life here wasn’t only about Max. I thought I needed Daddy Jacob and Kitten, too. Everyone in this house. We were a family. Unconventional, but all the better because we had to really listen to each other and communicate to have the level of trust we had with each other.

“Are you ready for me to dress you, Bunny?”

Max’s deep voice startled me from my reverie. He leaned against the doorframe, his imposing figure filling the space with quiet authority. He wore dark leather pants slung low on his hips and a crisp white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms roped with muscle. His blue-gray eyes caught mine in the mirror, and his lips curved into that half smile that always made my stomach flip.

“Yes,” I answered, setting the invitation down on my vanity. “Slightly nervous.”

“You’ll be perfect.” He crossed the room to stand behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders. “Let’s get you dressed.”

The costume lay spread across my bed. Max had chosen fuzzy black bunny ears with sparkling gems on the inside. My hair spiraled in waves down my back. I had taken care with my make up, using a light foundation then contouring my face in tones of dark gray to give me an otherworldly appearance.

Dark eye shadow in charcoal smeared over my eyelids and fanned out past the corners, filling in the skin around my eyes to match the jeweled, sequined, black and gold mask. I’d lined my eyes in a gold liner. Max had also laid out a slinky, shimmering black dress trimmed in gold that would swish around me loosely, held on my shoulders by barely there gemmed straps meant to look like diamonds on a thin gold chain. Hell, for all I knew, they might well be diamonds.

“Arms up,” he instructed, and I obeyed without hesitation.

The cool fabric slid over my skin as he smoothed the garment over my curves. He brushed my ribs, my back, the sides of my breasts as he worked the delicate material into place. Each touch, though seemingly casual, sent sparks shooting through me. I knew Max well enough by now to recognize when his movements were deliberately slow, calculated to build anticipation.

“This looks perfect on you,” he murmured, adjusting the straps over my shoulders. His fingers lingered on my collarbone, tracing my skin and making my breath catch. “Turn around, little Bunny.”

I pivoted slowly, allowing him to see how the dress fluttered around my curves in a gentle wave that landed above mid thigh, barely long enough to cover my ass. His eyes darkened as his gaze traveled down my form, then back up to meet mine. “You’ve always been beautiful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “but tonight you are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen.”

I heated with pleasure and I smiled up at Max like he was my hero. And I suppose he was. He and Daddy Jacob.

“You’re trembling,” he observed.

“The invitation is… a lot,” I admitted. “Everything.” The truth was more complicated. His touch, his proximity, the anticipation of what would come later, all combined to leave me dizzy with anticipation. And so fucking horny I thought I might die if I didn’t get relief! I smiled up at him. “But I’m good. Better than even.”

 


About the Author

Welcome to Wanda Violet O.'s world of bedtime fantasy, where you'll find a variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play... she's got it all. Come take a look for yourself!

 

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

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Tuesday, October 21, 2025

DOC by Harley Wylde #MCromance @ChangelingPress

 


(Dixie Reapers MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: October 24, 2025



When a fierce heroine collides with a hardened outlaw, secrets ignite and sparks fly.

 

Nova -- I was never a part of my uncle Bats’ outlaw MC world. He kept me far from the Dixie Reapers, convinced distance meant safety. But when my parents died in a crash I know wasn’t an accident, I walk straight into the world I’ve been shielded from, where every secret carries blood, betrayal, and danger. Each step puts a bigger target on my back, but I can’t stop. Not when the conspiracy reached higher than I ever imagined. And then there’s Doc. He’s a risk I can’t afford, no matter how much I want him.

Doc -- I patched into the Dixie Reapers for a fresh start, not to guard the 19 year old niece of a fallen brother. As a veteran and the club’s medic, I know how to fight, save lives, and bury temptation. But Nova’s stubborn, reckless, and too tempting to resist. I fell fast, and hard. Once I’ve set eyes on her, I’m not letting go. Protecting her tests me more than any battlefield ever has, but losing her isn’t an option.

Enemies circle like vultures -- dirty cops, corrupt judges, men willing to kill to silence us. Together we uncover a deadly web of human trafficking and murder. But in the outlaw world, justice comes at a cost. Nova is mine, and I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone take her.

 

If you like possessive alpha males, gritty MC romance, heart-pounding suspense, and age gap romances, you’re going to love Doc and Nova’s story!

 

WARNING: This book contains mature themes, government corruption, human trafficking, violence, and adult content. Reader discretion advised.

 


 

EXCERPT

 

Nova

 

My little Honda looked pathetic among the gleaming motorcycles, like a child who’d accidentally wandered into an adult party. I gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as I scanned the Dixie Reapers clubhouse. Uncle Bats had always warned me to stay away from this place, from his world. But Uncle Bats was dead, and I needed answers that only his brothers might have.

The folder and notebook on my passenger seat contained everything I had left of my mother -- her research notes, newspaper clippings, and a lifetime of suspicions that had probably gotten her killed. I picked them up, clutching them to my chest like armor.

“You can do this, Nova,” I whispered to myself. “For Mom and Dad.”

I took three deep breaths, counting each one the way my therapist had taught me after the accident. Except it wasn’t an accident. I knew it wasn’t, no matter what the police report said.

Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the parking lot. Men in leather cuts moved between motorcycles, their laughter and conversations a low rumble that stopped abruptly when they noticed my car. I felt their gazes on me, assessing, suspicious.

Uncle Bats had kept me secret from them, and while I knew of the Dixie Reapers, I’d never been allowed to meet them. Now I was about to shatter that barrier. The thought sent a tremor through my hands, but I shoved the fear down deep where it couldn’t reach my face.

I stepped out of the car, my sensible flats crunching on the gravel. Five feet tall in my best shoes, I’d never felt smaller than I did walking toward that building. The folder and notebook clutched to my chest were my only shield against their stares.

“Hey, darlin’, you lost?” called one man, his tone somewhere between amused and suspicious. Tattoos covered his arms and disappeared beneath the leather vest emblazoned with the Dixie Reapers patch.

I kept walking, eyes forward, spine straight the way my mother had taught me. “Look them in the eye, Nova,” she’d say. “Don’t let them think you’re afraid, even when you are.”

The surrounding conversations died one by one, replaced by silence and the weight of two dozen stares. I could feel them taking in my brown hair, my hazel eyes, my five-foot-nothing frame that had never intimidated anyone. I probably looked like a strong wind could blow me over, but they didn’t know about the steel underneath. They didn’t know I was Mary-Jane’s daughter.

The clubhouse door loomed ahead, guarded by a mountain of a man with a graying beard and hands the size of dinner plates. His cut identified him as a full member, not just a hang-around. He stepped directly into my path, forcing me to stop or walk straight into his chest.

“Clubhouse is members only, sweetheart,” he said, voice like gravel. “Whatever you’re selling, we ain’t buying.”

Tiling my chin up, I met his gaze. “I’m not selling anything. I need to speak with whoever’s in charge.”

He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “That so? And what business would a little thing like you have with the Dixie Reapers?”

The men behind me had moved closer, forming a loose semicircle. I could feel them at my back, curiosity and suspicion rolling off them in waves.

“My name is Nova Treemont. I’m Bats’ niece.”

The effect was immediate. The doorman’s expression shifted from dismissive to shocked in an instant. A murmur rippled through the men behind me.

“Bullshit,” someone whispered.

“Bats never had family,” said another.

“He had a sister,” another voice said.

The doorman’s eyes narrowed, searching my face. “Bats never mentioned no niece.”

“He wouldn’t have.” I met his gaze. “He kept me out of… all this. For protection.” I gestured at the clubhouse with my free hand. “But he’s gone now, and I need help. The kind only the Dixie Reapers can provide.”

The doorman studied me for what felt like an eternity, his gaze moving from my face to the items I clutched and back again. I could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes, weighing the possibility I was telling the truth against the risk of letting a stranger into their sanctuary.

“Wait here.” He turned to enter the clubhouse.

I stood rooted to the spot, aware of the bikers still watching me. I could feel the curiosity and hostility aimed my way. I kept my breathing even, pretending I couldn’t feel their stares boring into my back.

The doorman returned a minute later, holding the door open. “Come on,” he said gruffly.

I stepped past him into a world my uncle had spent his life shielding me from. The air was thick with cigarette smoke that clung to the furniture and walls. The smell of beer and whiskey undercut everything, along with something else -- something distinctly male and dangerous.

Pool balls clacked on a table where a game paused mid-shot as players turned to stare. Behind a long bar, bottles gleamed under dim lights. Motorcycle memorabilia covered the walls -- license plates, photos.

It should have felt alien, this place my blood relation had called home. Instead, deep inside me, something whispered recognition. As if some part of me had been waiting to find this place my whole life.

The doorman nudged me forward with a hand that could have wrapped around my entire upper arm. “This way.” He guided me deeper into the clubhouse. “They’re waiting.”

I followed, clutching my mother’s research to my chest, aware that I was crossing a threshold I could never uncross. Behind me, I heard someone say softly, “Mary-Jane’s kid? Jesus Christ.”

They’d known my mother then. At least some of them had known, and they’d stayed away all these years. Just as Bats had intended.

The thought steadied me as I walked toward whatever waited ahead. I wasn’t just Nova Treemont anymore. I was Mary-Jane’s daughter, Bats’ niece. And I had questions that needed answering, no matter how dangerous the answers might be.

The back room was darker than the main area. Five men sat around a table, their faces half in shadow, their cuts marking them as the officers of the Dixie Reapers. I stood before them, a girl in jeans and a cardigan, feeling like I was facing a firing squad. But I’d come too far to falter now.

The doorman who’d escorted me in gave a brief nod to the man at the head of the table before stepping back, positioning himself in front of the closed door. Message received: I wasn’t leaving until they decided I could.

“So,” said the man at the head of the table. His neatly trimmed gray beard and dark eyes seemed sharp beneath heavy brows. The patches on his cut read, “President -- Savior.” “You claim to be Bats’ niece.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “I am Bats’ niece. My mother was Mary-Jane Treemont, his younger sister.”

A muscle in the President’s jaw twitched. “Bats was a brother to us for a long ass time. Never once mentioned a niece.”

“He was protecting me. Keeping his family separate from… this life.”

One of the other men -- younger, with a Vice President patch -- snorted. “Convenient story, sweetheart. Got any proof?”

I unzipped my bag and pulled out a small photo album, sliding it across the table. “Page three. That’s my mother and uncle at her college graduation.”

I watched as the President flipped to the page, his expression unchanging as he studied the photo of a much younger Bats with his arm around my mother.

“Could be anyone.” The VP’s tone lacked conviction.

“Check the next page,” I said. “That’s from my parents’ wedding. My mother, my father, and uncle.”

The President studied the photo longer this time before passing the album to the man next to him. It made its way around the table, each man taking a moment to examine the proof of a side of Bats they’d never known.

“So you’re his niece.” The President slid the album back across the table. “What do you want from us?”

I took a deep breath and placed my folder on the table. “My parents died several weeks ago in what was ruled a car accident. Their car went off the road. Police said my father lost control.”

“And you don’t believe that.” The VP watched me with narrowed eyes.

“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t. My mother was an investigative journalist. She was working on a story.” I opened the folder, spreading out newspaper clippings and photocopied notes across the scarred wood. “She was investigating connections between Magnolia County officials and organized crime. Money laundering, illegal gambling, possibly human trafficking.”

The men exchanged glances, their expressions giving nothing away. I’d honestly expected some sort of reaction, especially since this was happening in their territory. My uncle had always been clear that while he may be an outlaw, some things weren’t tolerated.

“Three days before she died, she called me,” I continued. “She said she’d found something big. Something that would blow the whole thing wide open. She wouldn’t tell me details over the phone, said she’d show me everything when they came to visit that weekend.” My voice cracked slightly. “They never made it.”

I pulled out a copy of the police report, pointing to highlighted sections. “The accident report says the car was traveling at high speed, that my father lost control. But my father never drove fast. He was cautious, meticulous. And the witness statements are vague. No one actually saw the car go off the road.”

“Accidents happen.” An older member with a gray ponytail watched me intently. “Doesn’t mean someone killed your parents.”

I met his gaze directly. “After the funeral, our house was broken into. Nothing valuable was taken, but my mother’s home office was ransacked. Her computer was gone. All her files.”

That got their attention. The men straightened, exchanging glances that spoke volumes.

“I managed to salvage these.” I gestured to the documents on the table. “She kept backups in a safety deposit box. But it’s not everything. There are references to evidence she had that I can’t find.”

The President leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “And what exactly do you expect us to do about this, Ms. Treemont?”

“I’ve tried the legal route,” I said. “I’ve been to the police, the FBI, even a private investigator. No one will touch it. The case is closed.” I swallowed hard. “My uncle –Bats -- once told my mother that if she ever needed help, real help, she should come to his brothers. That you take care of your own.”

“Bats said that?” The VP’s eyebrows raised.

“He did,” I confirmed. “And with him gone, you’re all I have left.”

The President’s eyes were unreadable as he studied my face. “You understand what you’re asking? If what you’re saying is true, you’re talking about going up against powerful people. The kind that can make a car accident happen.”

“I know.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “But they killed my parents. They’ve been watching me too. Cars following me home. Strange calls. Last week someone broke into my apartment.” I pulled up my sleeve, revealing a jagged raw wound on my forearm. “I surprised him. He had a knife.”

That drew a low curse from one of the men who hadn’t spoken yet.

“Before she died, my mother dug into something dangerous -- something big enough to get her killed. These bastards still tried to bury it, but I swore I’d drag the truth into the light and make them pay.” My gaze cut across the table, meeting each man’s eyes in turn. “Justice for my parents is the only thing that matters.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant sounds of the main room beyond the door.

Finally, the President gathered up my mother’s papers, tapping them into a neat stack. “Wait outside.”

The doorman stepped forward, opening the door for me. I hesitated, reluctant to leave my mother’s research behind.

“We’ll return these,” the President said, seeing my hesitation. “Go on now.”

I had no choice but to comply. The doorman escorted me back to the main room, indicating a worn leather couch against the wall. “Sit tight.”

I perched on the edge of the couch, feeling the weight of curious stares from the men scattered around the room. No one approached me, but I could hear the whispers.

“… Bats’ niece…”

“… Mary-Jane’s kid…”

“… looks just like her mother…”

That last comment made me look up sharply, trying to identify who had spoken. An older member nodded at me from the bar, raising his beer bottle slightly. “Knew your mama when she was younger than you. Bats always said she was the smart one in the family. Said she could sniff out a lie from a mile away.”

A lump formed in my throat. I’d never heard anyone talk about my mother like that, like they’d known her personally. “Did you know her well?”

The man shrugged. “Well enough. Your uncle always spoke highly of her investigative skills. Said she could’ve been FBI if she hadn’t been so damn stubborn about working outside the system.”

That sounded like my mother. And it sounded like something Uncle Bats would say.

I sat straighter, hope kindling in my chest for the first time since I’d arrived. Maybe they would help me after all. Maybe I’d finally get the answers I’d been seeking for several weeks.

I just had to convince them I was worth the risk.

I traced the edge of my mother’s notebook with my fingertip, counting the seconds that stretched into minutes. The leather couch beneath me had seen better days, cracked and worn by years of men larger than me shifting their weight. Around the room, bikers pretended not to watch me while doing exactly that. I wondered if Uncle Bats had sat here, on this very couch, planning runs or celebrating victories I’d never know about.

My gaze drifted to a wall of photos near the bar -- men in Dixie Reapers cuts, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, grins splitting their bearded faces. I rose slowly, drawn to search for my uncle’s face among them. A few members tensed as I moved, but none stopped me.

There he was. Younger, with fewer lines around his eyes, his arm thrown around another member, looking more relaxed than I’d ever seen him during his rare visits to our home. He’d always been on edge around us, as if expecting trouble to follow him through our door.

Now I understood why.

“He was a good man,” said a voice behind me.

I turned to find the older member who’d spoken to me earlier, the one who’d known my mother.

“One of our best,” he continued. “Loyal to the bone.”

“But not loyal enough to tell you about his family,” I said softly.

The old biker’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. “That was his loyalty to you, girl. Keeping you separate. Safe.” He nodded toward the back room. “Not many of us manage that trick.”

Before I could respond, the door to the back room opened. The President emerged, followed by the others. The room fell silent as they approached.

“Ms. Treemont,” the President said, his voice carrying across the now-quiet clubhouse. “We’ve discussed your situation.”

I returned to the couch, perching on its edge, hands folded in my lap to hide their trembling. “And?”

“Bats was our brother.” The President spoke in a measured voice, choosing each word with care. “That carries weight. But what you’re asking involves the club in what appears to be a personal vendetta against powerful people, based on circumstantial evidence.”

My heart sank. “It’s not just --”

He held up a hand, cutting me off. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t help. I said you’re asking a lot.”

Hope flickered back to life in my chest.

“We’ll hear you out,” he continued. “Review what you’ve brought us. But I can’t promise involvement beyond that. Understand?”

I nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” His expression remained stern. “This isn’t a democracy. I make decisions based on what’s best for the club, not for outsiders -- even ones with Bats’ blood.”


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.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

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

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Shadow of the Samhain Moon by Jaylee Austin #Fantasy #Romance

 


Nordic Monster Romance Series, Book One


Fantasy Romance

Date Published: October 21, 2025



The Scandinavian legend of the undead draugr, Nordic guardian warriors of treasure and the burial mounds of ancient tombs. Tropes fated mates, chosen one and sacrifice.

As autumn descends upon the quaint Scandinavian town of Norskeby, Minnesota, the annual Harvest Festival is on the brink of celebration. Amidst the vibrant pumpkins and ghostly decorations, the townsfolk remain blissfully unaware of the ancient Norse burial ground that lies beneath their feet, a resting place of dark secrets and vengeful spirits.

Elin Bjorn, the town's spirited yet introverted librarian, has always felt an inexplicable pull towards the rich myths of her Scandinavian ancestors. But as Halloween approaches, her fascination with the tales of Draugr, the vengeful undead warriors guarding their treasures takes a dark twist.

Join Elin and Ragnor in this spellbinding tale of love, sacrifice, and the eternal battle between light and darkness, where the true harvest lies in the heart's strength and the unbreakable bonds of the soul.


About the Author

 


 In a whimsical corner of the universe that journey's through the enchanting realms of Wonderland, Jaylee Austin weaves tales that dance between the ethereal and the imaginative.

Her desk, a canvas of creativity, is often interrupted by the playful pounces of her two adorable companions, but none more so than Tilly, her clever alpha pug.

With a spirited background as a retired high school English and Theater teacher, Jaylee brought wit and warmth to the classroom, she invites readers to leap into alternate realities where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, and every page is a step further down the rabbit hole.

 

Contact Links

Website

Goodreads

Instagram

Facebook

https://linktr.ee/JayleesWorld

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Purchase Links

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Smashwords


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Monday, October 20, 2025

Canapes at the Beach House Hotel by Judith Keim #Romance #Fiction



Women's Fiction with Romantic Elements

Date Published: October 20, 2025



A surprising turn of events awaits Ann and Rhonda...

When Vice-President Amelia Swanson asks them to oversee a stay at the hotel by the Italian Ambassador to the United Nations in New York City and his family, Ann and Rhonda hope this won’t mean another problem for The Beach House Hotel. Enrico Ferrara, his wife, Catarina, and his daughter, Philippa, arrive at the hotel at the same time a young chef, Chet Waring, and a friend, Harper Lewis, seek employment at the hotel after being unfairly booted from the Miami restaurant scene by a notorious, difficult chef. The same chef, Jonny Arno, is opening an Italian restaurant close to The Beach House Hotel to compete directly with them. All of these people, and a few more, come together to create a recipe for danger, love, and loyalty.

 

About the Author

 

 Judith Keim, A USA Today Best-Selling Author, is a hybrid author who both has a publisher and self-publishes. Ms. Keim writes heart-warming novels about women who face unexpected challenges, meet them with strength, and find love and happiness along the way, stories with heart. Her best-selling books are based, in part, on many of the places she's lived or visited and on the interesting people she's met, creating believable characters and realistic settings her many loyal readers love.

She enjoyed her childhood and young-adult years in Elmira, New York, and now makes her home in Boise, Idaho, with her husband and their adorable dachshunds, Wally and Kacy, and other members of her family.

While growing up, she loved the idea of writing stories from a young age. Books were always present, being read, ready to go back to the library, or about to be discovered. All in her family shared information from the books in general conversation, giving them a wealth of knowledge and vivid imaginations.

Ms. Keim loves to hear from her readers and appreciates their enthusiasm for her stories, including the eight children's book she has written under J.S. Keim


Contact Links

Facebook

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Friday, October 17, 2025

PLAYING ROUGH by Beth Pellino-Dudzic #Romance

 


BLURB:

 

Love. Lies. And the Road to Redemption.

 

After five months in rehab, Trevor McNaughton is finally sober—and ready to rebuild his life with Gina, the woman who never stopped believing in him. A road trip is meant to be their fresh start, but their plans are quickly derailed when their former publicist, Paul Ryan, emerges with explosive claims: an affair with Gina, dark secrets about their band Perfection, and vicious speculation about their marriage.

 

As the couple races to contain the fallout, the pressure mounts. Trevor must protect his fragile sobriety while defending the truth. Gina, fierce and unshakable, refuses to let their love be hijacked by lies. All the while, Gina’s cousin and bandmate Rio begs them to return home and help shape the next album—while wannabe rock star Brian Mayfield looms as another potential threat to the narrow threshold they already straddle.

 

With careers and reputations on the line, Trevor and Gina must confront the ghosts of their past and the chaos of their present. Can love outlast betrayal, and can anything silence a man set on destruction?




Excerpt:

 

They pulled away from their Montecito home when Gina had a realization. “Trev, we know nothing about camping. The closest I can relate is the time my family had to stay at the Hyatt because the Ritz was full. We should stop at one of those huge camping and hunting stores and buy whatever we need.” Trevor agreed. They did some research and then drove to the nearest outdoor supply store.

 

A salesperson named Jonas recognized them. “What can I assist you with, McNaughtons?”

 

Gina stared at Jonas, then threw her hands up. “Everything ... We have no idea what is needed for an RV trip.” The knowledgeable employee gave them a checklist of necessities and camping equipment. Trevor and Gina trusted him to compile what was needed.

 

Jonas asked, “How long of a trip are you planning on taking?”

 

Trevor simply said, “Probably a month, maybe longer.” Jonas also asked if they had an itinerary and RV locations picked out and reserved. The two rockers looked at each other— who knew they needed to reserve a spot? He told them there was a book on RV parks that should help design their plan.

 

Trevor didn’t vocalize what the exact plan was.

 

So, Gina suggested hers. “Trevor, I would enjoy driving up the coast, California, Oregon, Washington. We can take in beautiful sights on the way and continue to Vancouver. We can explore a bit of British Columbia and visit your father … and I would like to drive to Boise.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

 

Beth Pellino-Dudzic was born in the Bronx and grew up in Westchester County, New York. She earned a BA in Business Administration and worked at IBM. She has three adult daughters and a new Granddaughter. She currently lives in Alabama with her husband and their miniature dachshund, Truffle. Although The Perfection Saga is fictional, many of the stories hark back to Beth’s time in the Rock ‘n’ Roll world. Beth’s favorite pastime is football, everything football. She also is an excellent cook and baker.

 

Links:

Website: https://perfectionsaga.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558439816678

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bpellinodudzic/

TikTok:  https://www.tiktok.com/@bethandperfection1

 

Buy Link:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0FP9H6LQQ

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER 

Beth Pellino-Dudzic will be awarding one set of the three books in the series - Playing Hard, Playing High and Playing Rough (international giveaway).

 

Wednesday, October 15, 2025

KURO by Ana Raine #DarkFantasy #MM @ChangelingPress

 


Jack-O-Lanterns (#7)


Dark Fantasy / M/M

Date Published: October 17, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press




When Preston saves a black cat everything he knows about life and demons is going to be questioned.


While shopping for candy for his friend's Halloween party, Preston saves a strange black cat from a group of teenage boys. Overcome with a desire entirely new to him, Preston takes the black cat home and discovers things are not always what they seem, especially on Halloween.

The cat, a demon named Caleb, has been searching for his mate for months and can't help but be fascinated with sweet Preston. He's determined to drag Preston down to his home in the underwater demon world.

Now Preston must choose between his mortal life, or one full of demons -- and love.


Praise for Kuro

"I'm the kind of person that loves a well-paced erotic story to sweep me away from a long day and this one is perfect for that sort of occasion. I find it to be a fantastic read, a quick one, and well written."

-- 4 Stars from Eric, MM Good Book Reviews



Excerpt
Copyright ©2025 Ana Raine

 

"Will you bring some candy for tomorrow?" Jackie's voice was desperate. Before Preston could answer, there was the sound of crashing glass on the other end of the phone.

"Are you all right?" Preston asked his oldest friend. He somehow managed to balance a plate of leftover salad with a cup of almond milk while keeping a good grip on his cell. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for the party tomorrow. Or trying to."

"And that involves breaking glass?" Preston smiled. Although Jackie and he had both majored in dance in college, Jackie was anything but graceful.

"No, dummy, it involves me trying to get these crystal dishes I got from my mom to all fit on the table."

"Crystal? Sounds... extravagant. For a Halloween party."

"Look, this is like the fourth Halloween I've been alone. Time to step it up."

Preston sighed. "Okay." He slipped out of his dance pants and pulled a pair of jeans over dark briefs. "What do you need me to bring?"

"Candy. Whatever kind you want. But not cheap shit -- that makes me sick."

"I'm on it."

The wind was colder than Preston had expected. His windbreaker was thin and cheap, more of a decoration than an actual coat. It didn't do much to keep him warm but this was the perfect opportunity to save money on gas. He was between productions, so he needed to save money any way he could. Leaving the car parked in front of his apartment, he walked down the street.

Jackie's request was going to be hard to fill. There were only yellow sale signs where piles of candy should have been. Luckily there was one large bag of chocolate bars, which he grabbed. Narrowly avoiding a collision with a young couple, he felt his cock twitch, sending shivers of anticipation down his spine, almost as if he had a tall, handsome man to go home to... He'd watched too many vampire movies with dark-haired, blue-eyed heroes. Why else would he be getting so hot in the grocery store?

There were hardly any cars in the parking lot.

"Get it," a voice shrieked so loud the plastic bag Preston had been holding fell to the ground when he flinched.

Toward the end of the parking lot, besides a clustering of trees, he saw a group of teenage boys. Preston could make out three of them, all tall and gangly, but a fourth stepped back as Preston neared the group. "What are you..."

"Get out of here, man," the one who had just stepped back ordered. He had dark, pinched eyes and a glance that made Preston's blood boil.

Although Preston wasn't one for fighting, the urge to find out what the teenagers were doing was stronger than any emotion he'd felt in a while. "I asked what you're doing."

"Just havin' fun," one of the other teenagers jumped in defensively.

Two of the four teenagers were quiet, quickly dropping large sticks onto the pavement.

"Isn't there a curfew tonight, guys?" the young man nearest to the woods asked, moving away from Preston.

The tallest of the teenagers took a step back, revealing a large black cat, sitting on its back legs but with an apparent twist in its front leg.

"How could you do this?" Preston asked, brushing past the young men. "This is just wrong."

"Whatevs."

Preston scooped the cat into his arms. The cat was so heavy he had a harder time straightening up again. "Gosh, you're big. And black." The cat reminded him of an anime cat -- bigger and blacker than anything he'd ever seen before. "I think I'll call you Kuro."

The cat swished its head from side to side, glancing back at the retreating backs of his tormenters. Purple eyes, outlined in a deep black that was different from the shade of his silky black coat, stared at Preston. The gaze was penetrating and unearthly. Preston's knees began to tremble. Even his arms were shaking as Preston held the cat close to his chest. He fumbled to pick up the plastic bag, missing the handle because the cat's gaze was so consuming.

Sexuality was running rampant through his veins. He felt like he'd eaten drug-laced candy and was swimming through a current, trying to make sense of reality again. Get a grip, Preston chastised himself.

Maybe that hadn't been enough, which could explain his sudden feeling of fatigue. But there was stunning need to find release. His legs prickled and because his eyes flickered so quickly, there were dark patches clouding his vision.

The cat meowed in his arms, but didn't try to escape. Once Preston entered the glow of his brightly lit street, he was sure that the cat was safer, but the thought of releasing the dark fur pushed a feeling of tremendous pain through his chest.

"I'm not allowed to have pets," Preston said softly, snaking a hand around the bag of chocolate so he could pet the top of the cat's head. The cat had his eyes trained on him. "We should get you to the vet to fix that leg. Although I think we'll have to wait until tomorrow." The cat's purple eyes were unnerving, but he couldn't chase away the intrigue...

 

About the Author

Ana is still figuring out what she wants to do with her life, although social work seems to be the most likely. Her best friends are a box of chocolate and her kitten who always sit beside her while she writes. When Ana was in high school, she often wrote about the LGBT community, but now her work is less...innocent. Ana enjoys writing anything and everything, including BDSM, dragons, shifters, magic, and more.


Twitter: @AuthorAnaRaine

Blog: anarainebooks.blogspot.com


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

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