Tuesday, July 8, 2025

BURN by Mychael Black #Gay #MPreg #VampireRomance @changelingpress

 


Gay Dark Fantasy, MPreg, Vampire Romance

Date Published: July 11, 2025



Humans and vamps were never meant to be mates, but an accidental meeting changes everything.

Cam Sharpe is just trying to make ends meet. Living in the city can easily break the bank, but that’s where the jobs are. It’s also where crime runs rampant. One night, he finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, putting him in the crosshairs of the city’s ruling vampire coven.

Nikolai Hart loves his job -- maybe a little too much. When hunting a rogue proves to be a pain in the ass, he’s the one House Saridan brings in to find the unfortunate soul. The latest job, however, has hit a snag: a mortal has witnessed everything.



EXCERPT

 

Cameron

I hated living in the city. There were too many people, most of whom couldn’t drive worth a damn. I barely managed to dodge a car that threatened to sideswipe me. I thought the asshole driver shouted something, but I just tossed the man a one-fingered salute. Rain pelted the city, which made deliveries a bit more complicated, especially on a bicycle. Still, the bike afforded me the chance to make it into tight spots a car could not. Traffic was a bitch, but that was city life. I’d been here for three years now and had managed to escape the need for a car. The exercise was good, at any rate.

I reached the towering apartment building and secured my bike to a lamppost. The expressionless doorman stood at the front. Dressed in a black tux, complete with white gloves, he fit right in with the building’s occupants.

Once inside, I flashed my badge hanging on its lanyard to the guard behind the desk and continued toward the elevators. A few well-dressed residents gave me a bit of the good ol’ side-eye, but I ignored them. Hell, I’d probably delivered dinner to them half a million times.

The elevator doors opened, and I held it for the others. When they didn’t move to enter, I shrugged and stepped inside, letting the doors close before they could change their haughty minds. I watched the display tick through the floor numbers until it reached the seventh floor. As soon as I exited, I heard music.

Down the hall, an apartment door opened, and a half-naked man waved. I met him and handed over the food.

“Wanna join?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Thanks, man, but I can’t. Still a few more hours before I can officially ‘clock out’ for the night.”

“You clock out?”

“Not really. I set my own hours, but this pays the bills, so, yeah, set times and all.”

“Ah.”

Shouts from inside cut the chat short. “Well, thanks!” the guy said, holding up the bag.

“No problem.”

Alone in the hall, I went back to the elevators. Thank the gods the tips were included in the app when ordering.

Back down on the street, I sighed. I wished I could stop for the night. I was tired, utterly sick of the damn rain, and hadn’t eaten in several hours. The sun had already set enough to make the streetlights come on along the sidewalks. I rolled the bike a few feet away from the lingering crowd and headed off to my next pick-up.

People swarmed the streets, most of them club hoppers. I’d done that years ago but had outgrown it. Random hook-ups in dark corners no longer satisfied me, but in a city this big, I wasn’t sure I’d ever find anyone who would. Most of the people I’d met so far were superficial and vain, perfectly content to spend a night getting laid by one person before moving on to the next.

An order came in, and the GPS piped up to let me know there was a shortcut to the restaurant. Happy to avoid the crowd, I turned down the alley the GPS designated. I ignored the few slumped figures along both sides. I’d learned the hard way a couple of years ago after a mugging not to carry cash. Now I only carried my ID, keys, phone, and a trusty can of mace.

The end of the alley branched left and right. The GPS told me to go left. Just as I started that way, commotion to the right startled me.

A tall, black-clad figure landed feet-first onto the wet pavement and grabbed a man from the ground. The man choked and struggled as the stranger spoke, voice low enough that I couldn’t hear what was said. Whatever it was, though, seemed to terrify the man he held captive.

The stranger growled -- literally growled -- and tore the man’s throat wide open with his fucking teeth.

I nearly wrecked the bike trying to get away. I pedaled as fast as my legs could, and the burn was almost too much. I reached the Chinese restaurant and stuck as close to the building as possible. After a few seconds of struggling to catch my breath, I locked my bike to a lamppost before heading inside.

I had zero doubt that I’d just seen a vampire executing someone. Vamps weren’t unknown, but they tended to keep to themselves. They also weren’t anything like what stories and movies portrayed them to be. Real vampires weren’t undead; they were an entirely different species. Stronger, faster, and far more deadly than any human could ever dream of being.

Safe in the restaurant, I shot a quick glance back out the door. Whatever I’d just witnessed wasn’t my business. Not like cops would do shit anyway. Vamps governed themselves, and the police were scared shitless of them.

Pushing it out of my mind for now, I shuddered and headed to the counter. Ten minutes later, I was on my way to the drop-off point. Despite needing the money, I ended my shift after handing over the food. Just before I left the area, though, I caught sight of the stranger from the alley. Those eyes locked onto mine.

Hopping onto the bike, I made a beeline for my tiny efficiency apartment. It wasn’t much, but it had a wonderfully huge deadbolt on the door.

I leaned back against the door as soon as I locked it. Eyes closed, I tried to get rid of the images from the alley. It wasn’t the first crime I’d seen in this damned city, but it was definitely the first time a vampire had been involved. At least that I knew of, at any rate.

“Get a grip, Cam,” I muttered. “Not the first, won’t be the last.”

I pushed off the door and tossed my keys onto the narrow bar separating the kitchenette from the living area. I couldn’t even call it an actual room, really. The only true room was the bathroom, and even that was about the size of a small walk-in closet. Overall, the place wasn’t much, but it was home and, to be honest, all I could afford.

Before I could contemplate dinner or a shower, my grumbling stomach made up its own mind. A quick glance in the fridge, and then the freezer, reminded me that I needed to hit the store down the block sooner rather than later. I didn’t cook, despite knowing how to, since it was just me here. Most of my meals tended to be sandwiches or frozen dinners, or, if money allowed, something quick while I was working. Tonight, though, peanut butter and jelly would have to do.

A few minutes later, I settled onto the futon that doubled as my bed and watched the news on my only splurge: a smart TV. I nibbled on my meager dinner as one report after another went on. I popped the last bite into my mouth, only to nearly choke on it.

The same dark-clad figure I’d seen in the alley was positioned behind one of the head vamps in the city during a news conference that, according to the info at the bottom of the screen, occurred earlier today. The muscle-bound watchdog stood ready to spring to action at the slightest hint of trouble.

Pitch black hair hung over broad shoulders, and the man’s five-o’clock shadow covered a stern, tight jawline. Eyes that looked almost as black as his hair seemed to scan the entire room. Though he kept his hands behind him, I could imagine those strong arms tensing. And he was tall. Jesus, he was fucking tall. Even more than the vampire in front of him. A morbid desire to stare up into those insanely dark eyes swept through me.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. Vamps are fucking trouble.”

I changed the channel and found a nature documentary instead. Maybe watching meerkats would cleanse my brain of insane ideas like wanting to unwrap all those muscles.

Gods, I was nuts.

 

About the Author

Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy as Katherine Cook.

He's an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and Spongebob Squarepants.

Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear from readers, be it via email or Facebook.

 

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six to carry the casket and one to say the mass by Bill Hulseman ~ reflections on life, identity, and moving forward #LGBTQ+ #giveaway




reflections on life, identity, and moving forward


LGBTQ+

Date Published: July 8, 2025

Publisher: Peanut Butter Publishing



Six to carry the casket and one to say the mass: reflections on life, identity, and moving forward offers the unique opportunity for its readers to start a new dialogue, take an active hand in creating culture and reshaping the world, and think about making meaning from formative experiences and relationships. From family dynamics and professional challenges that bolstered and battered him to the TV shows, films, books, and people who impacted his queer identity, Bill deconstructs the world that he inherited and begins to reconstruct the person he wants to become through short, poignant, thought-provoking, and frequently hilarious essays. The post-2020 world revealed to Bill that social transformation only comes with individual choices. If he wanted the world to change, he had to truthfully and compassionately understand how choices made long ago brought him to this moment and how the choices he makes now shape the future.

This book is not didactic or instructional; not self-help or psychology; not academic philosophy or cultural criticism. It is an exercise in honesty and a portrait of Bill, his family, and how we construct multiple identities—sexual, religious, philosophical, political, familial, relational—without reducing them to a monolithic whole, without being argumentative.

For anyone looking to make meaning out of their lives and the world around them, this book offers a model.

 


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Thursday, July 3, 2025

Redeye by Syntell Smith #Contemporary #Romance



Contemporary Fiction, Romance

Date Published: November 27, 2024

 


New bodies, new careers, new scandalous discoveries. But will Nate and Cynthia Durant be able to keep their old love alive?


Seven years ago, Nate and Cynthia Durant were unrecognizable. They were in love, newly married, and hundreds of pounds overweight. Now, they turn heads wherever they go, but as their 10th anniversary looms, it becomes increasingly apparent that their paths are diverging.

Despite their newfound external allure, the insecurities of their former selves still linger within. Nate, now a modern renaissance man juggling a myriad of careers—from podcasting and photography to writing, DJing, and stand-up comedy—struggles to reconcile his past with his present. On the other hand, Cynthia, living comfortably off her wealthy parents’ support, finds herself in a state of career limbo as a former substitute teacher.

Everything takes a turn when Nate makes a chance discovery online and rekindles a connection from his past. This new relationship sets off a series of unforeseen events, from the sudden loss of their beloved pet to an unexpected confrontation with their own demons. Secrets, lies, and confessions intertwined, pushing their marriage to the brink. As past wounds are laid bare, Nate and Cynthia must confront their own vulnerabilities and redefine the boundaries of their love.

 

“Redeye” is an emotionally charged novel that perfectly blends romance and drama. Join Nate and Cynthia as they navigate the road to self-acceptance, chance encounters, and discover love is anything but predictable.

 

About the Author


Syntell Smith is the author of the book award winning Call Numbers series. He was born and raised in Washington Heights, Upper Manhattan in New York City. He began writing while blogging his hectic everyday life experiences in 2004. After gaining an audience with a following of dedicated readers, he studied scripts and plays and got into screenwriting. He loves comic books, video games, and watching reruns of Law and Order. Syntell is active on Facebook. Tumblr & Twitter, and currently lives in Detroit.

 

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Wednesday, July 2, 2025

Ryker by Harley Wylde #Erotic #Romance @changelingpress

 


Erotic Romance, Age Gap

Date Published: July 4, 2025



Doesn’t matter that Laken is Flicker’s sister, and a virgin. I always get what I want, and Laken is mine!

 

Ryker: After 20 years in the military, I find myself doing my dad’s dirty work. But as the “prince” of the Hades Abyss MC, it’s expected of me. Doing a little recon in a small Alabama town should have been boring as shit, until the hot little minx I met at a bar turned my life upside down. Women always fall at my feet, but this one’s different. If I’d known she was a virgin, I might have backed away, but now that I’ve had a taste I want to keep coming back for more. Little did I realize that I’d just fucked the sister of a Dixie Reaper, and my life’s about to become all kinds of complicated. I have to wonder… had she fucked me because she wanted me? Or is it all some kind of setup?

Laken: My big brother Flicker is always ruining my fun, keeping the guys away from me, so when I finally get a chance for a hot guy to get rid of my V-card, I’m all for it. Ryker’s hot and has that alpha vibe, and the fact he’s ex-military just makes me wetter. It never occurred to me that he was a biker, or that I might have just screwed up a big deal for the Dixie Reapers. It seems my sexy Ryker isn’t just some hot military guy. No, he’s the son of the President of the Hades Abyss MC. So I hide like big brother asks me to. Just one problem… Ryker doesn’t leave, and now I’m late. How am I supposed to tell Ryker that I’m carrying his child? When life fucks me over, it does it royally.

 



EXCERPT


I threw back another shot of whiskey, and slammed the glass down on the bar top. It was my tenth. Or was it twelfth? I'd lost count somewhere along the way, but I wasn't even remotely drunk. There was a slight warmth spreading through me, but I was one hundred percent in charge of my actions. So when I slid my hand up the back of the thigh of the hottie standing next to me, yeah, that was all me. What can I say? That sweet, curvy ass of hers was calling to me.

She slowly turned her head to look at me over her shoulder as my hand slipped up farther, sliding under the hem of her too short dress. Mmm. No panties. I gave her ass cheek a squeeze and watched as heat flared in her eyes. Whatever schmuck she'd been talking to was forgotten as she turned to face me. Oh yeah. The front matched the back. Nice, luscious breasts that were barely contained by the stretchy top of her dress, and damn if her nipples weren't poking through.

"Normally a guy buys me a drink before he grabs my ass," she said.

"Guess I'm not a normal guy."

She reached out and fingered the dog tags that I still wore, despite the fact I'd been out of the service for a month. "No, soldier, you certainly aren't."

"Marine," I said.

She bit her lip and moved in a little closer. "Guess that makes you something of a badass, doesn't it?"

I smirked and squeezed her ass again. "Something like that."

She reached out and rubbed a hand down my chest, her fingers trailing across my abs and stopping at my belt buckle. I could tell she liked what she saw, and I damn sure liked the way she filled out her dress. It would look even better bunched around her waist while I fucked her.

"You're so big and strong," she said with a purr.

"Oh, baby. You have no idea."

I slid my fingers farther down the curve of her ass until they teased her pussy. She was already wet and so damn slick, and she looked like just the type of girl who would let me fuck her in the bathroom. I knew the type, and those hard nipples and wet little pussy told me that she wanted me bad enough to let me do whatever I wanted. Women tended to fall at my feet, always had, and this one wasn't going to be an exception. Kneeling was a good place for them, easier access for sucking my cock.

"Bigger doesn't mean better," she said. "It's all in how you use it."

"I know how to use it. I can make you scream my name all night long."

She shrugged. "Maybe you can and maybe you can't."

Oh, I could. It was a proven fact. Women always screamed in ecstasy whenever I was pounding into their pussies, or anywhere else I pleased. They begged me for it.

"What's your name, sugar?"

"Laken."

"I'm Ryker. What do you say we get to know one another a little better?" I stroked her pussy again, letting my fingers dip inside. She bit her lip, and a flush started creeping up her chest. I'd be willing to bet I could get her off right here and now.

"Maybe I'm not that kind of girl," she said, her voice dropping as I stroked her some more.

"Honey, my fingers are coated in your cream, right here in front of everyone. I bet I could get you so turned-on, you'd let me fuck you anywhere I pleased. Just bend you over the bar and take what I wanted." I smirked. "In any hole I wanted."

She gasped, but her eyes dilated, and I knew she'd liked the idea. Naughty girl.

 

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

 

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Tuesday, July 1, 2025

Taken by the Huldra by Megan Slayer #Paranormal #Romance @changelingpress

 


Paranormal Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: July 4, 2025



A Huldra and a human collide in the forest…

 

Hunter came to Eerie to give up on his life. Nothing’s gone right and he’s ready to quit. Then he sees the most beautiful woman in the world, but she wants him dead. Talk about bad luck. Until he meets Annika, a Huldra -- a Norse protector – and the woman he can’t seem to forget.

Unlike her twin sister Runa, who wants only to destroy, Annika is a nurturing spirit. The moment she sees Hunter she has to save him from her homicidal sister. He’s too pretty to kill, but he’s got a secret. He’s not solely human, although he doesn’t know what paranormal blood runs through his veins.

If he can survive Runa’s wrath, the scars of his past, and allow himself to have a future with Annika, he might find the best things in life aren’t exactly what they seem -- they’re better.

 


EXCERPT


“I’ve had enough.” Hunter Hallahan drove past the line separating the town boundary of Eerie from the rest of the world. To anyone who didn’t have a drop of paranormal blood, the road went through untouched woodlands. Unlike most beings, he had the very cells permitting him to be there -- paranormal blood. More specifically, shifter blood. By the time he’d cropped up on the family tree, the strain of paranormal magic coming down to him had been diluted enough he wasn’t able to shift.

Didn’t matter to him.

He had the keen senses of the wolf -- sharp hearing, keen eyesight, a sixth sense to detect danger, and lightning-fast reflexes. His abilities to read other beings had served him well. They had in the past.

Not now.

He’d read Sally so wrong. He’d thought she loved him. Thought she wanted to be together forever. All she’d wanted was a boyfriend for now. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel and drove straight to the woods. His eyes burned from shedding too many tears over her. Her words burned into his brain.

“Oh, honey. You’re good for now, but you’re not marriage material. You’re a mongrel.”

How could someone say those things?

No, he knew how they could. She wanted to get back at her now-fiancé. Making him jealous got her a bigger diamond. Got her attention. Got her the house in the suburbs with the large yard and the chance at having kids.

He’d never be able to give her children.

He turned onto the gravel road leading deeper into the woods.

When he’d set out for Eerie, he hadn’t planned on going to the forest, but the second he crossed the city limits, he’d been drawn here. He couldn’t even explain it. Like the car was being driven by itself.

Impossible.

Yes, he had magic, and Eerie was full of spells, magic and everything else paranormal, but the car wasn’t driving itself. He wasn’t rich enough to have one of those vehicles. This was something different.

Something stronger.

He continued farther into the woods, shocked by the darkness. This wasn’t his first time venturing into the forests of Eerie. The area that hid the town appeared to be only a few hundred acres on a map. But that was the magic of Eerie. It might not appear big, but once one started exploring, the place was huge.

As he drove, he noticed a woman walking among the trees. Seeing someone in the woods wasn’t strange. The fact the woman wore a filmy dress and had flowing blonde hair was the eye-catching part. He slowed his pace and cast a longer glance at her. Her pale skin practically seemed transparent. Gods, if a stiff breeze blew through, she’d fall over. She had no meat on her bones.

Some might find her gorgeous. She had that stick-thin look going for her, with more bones than curves. She cut a striking figure among the trees.

He liked women with a little more curve.

The woman rushed up to him. “Come to me.”

Part of him wanted to. Just stop the vehicle, leave, and follow her. The rational part of his brain refused to comply. This had to be a spell. Had to be something to bring him to his doom.

Except he’d initially set out for Eerie with the plan to end his life. He’d thought that was what he wanted, but he’d never followed through with his spur-of-the-moment intentions. Gods, he’d loved Sally, but she wasn’t worth him doing something so drastic. Never had been.

The woman stopped in front of his car and pointed to him, then crooked her finger. “Come with me.”

He flicked the button to lock the car. Why in Hades had he done that? If this was magic, she could come into his vehicle despite the damn locks.

“Come with me,” she repeated. Then the woman winked.

As she did, he collided with something hard. Not just hard, but immediate. He rocked forward, smacking his face into the airbag. The wind rushed from his lungs, and he groaned. His limbs ached. What in Hades had just happened?

He blinked to clear his vision. Smoke wafted through the air and the bag deflated.

“Odin’s sake.” The door opened and a person reached into the car.

When he looked at the speaker, his blood chilled. “You’re determined to get me to come with you.” The woman who’d pointed to him was yanking him from the vehicle. “I’m not going with you.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you will.” The woman, almost too thin to be manhandling him, tugged him free of the seat belt. “You’re dying, you fool.”

“Dying?” He’d come to the woods to do himself in but hadn’t wanted to -- not for real. “How?”

“You hit the fucking tree.” She hauled him against her body. “Come on. Use your legs -- or are they broken?”

“I don’t know.” His brain swam. “I’ve got to be concussed.”

“Probably.” She grunted, then tossed him against the side of the car. She waved her hand across his forehead and spoke words he couldn’t understand. Her brow crinkled and her green eyes flashed. Her mouth twisted into a frown. “Can you walk now?”

He hadn’t bothered to try. He stared at her. She looked a lot like the woman who’d called to him, yet nothing like her. After a moment, his brain cooperated, and he forced his legs to move. “Yes,” he managed. He allowed her to slide her arm around him. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain in a moment.” She fumbled across the underbrush to a large tree. When she knocked on the tree, a hunk of the bark opened like a door. “In here.” She didn’t give him a chance to argue. Instead, she shoved him into the tree before closing the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” He leaned against the wall. “I’m so confused. I’ve got to be concussed.”

“You probably are.” She raked her hair back from her face. “You’d better thank your lucky stars I got there in time.”

“Why?” He understood so little.

“That woman who called to you? That’s my twin sister,” she said. “That’s some bad magic you don’t want to mix yourself up in.”

“Jealous?” He’d tried for a bad joke, but it hadn’t worked. “I’m sorry. I don’t get it.”

She flipped a switch, sending light across the space. “Here.” She helped him to a chair. She knelt in front of him, then stared at him before tipping her head. “I get it.”

“I’m glad you do, because I don’t.” He didn’t like riddles or misdirects. “What’s going on?”

“You crashed your car into a tree.”

“I did? I didn’t see anything in front of me.” He’d destroyed his car? Fuck.

“That was the point.”

“What?”

She sighed and folded her arms before sitting back on her heels. “What brought you to Eerie? You’re here, so you must have magic. Why are you here?”



About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.


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Monday, June 30, 2025

GRAVE WIND by Janice Tremayne #Horror #Paranormal #Fiction



Haunting Dahlia Series, Book One


Horror, Supernatural, Paranormal

Date Published: June 30, 2025



A cursed lighthouse, a malevolent shapeshifter, and a deadly game. One life-altering decision could seal their fate.

In Solitary Island, Australia. A malevolent shapeshifter haunts a storm-battered lighthouse. When Dahlia confronts an ancient secret, she must make a life-or-death sacrifice to save herself and Paranormal Jack from a terrifying entity trapped between worlds.

Caught in a twisted game, Dahlia is forced to make an impossible choice—one of them must die for the other to survive.

As Paranormal Jack fights to escape the lighthouse's sinister grip, he must explore the human fear of death and what lies beyond to uncover the horrifying truth. Betwixt has been claiming the souls of those who enter the lighthouse for centuries, and its curse runs deep.

As fate hangs in the balance, Dahlia must uncover the dark history of the Island and make a desperate bid before the evil grave wind takes hold.

Grave Wind is the first book in the Haunting Dahlia series. This riveting tale, packed with unforgettable characters, heart-pounding paranormal investigations, and shocking twists, will leave readers spellbound. If you were hooked by the eerie tension of Dean Koontz's Phantoms, this electrifying story is must-read.


About the Author


Janice Tremayne, hailing from Australia, is a celebrated author specializing in supernatural horror. Her novel "Haunting in Hartley" achieved finalist status in the Readers' Favorite 2020 International Book Awards in the category of fiction-supernatural, clinching the prestigious Distinguished Favorite Prize for paranormal horror at the New York City Big Book Awards. Janice's literary prowess was further acknowledged with the silver medal at the IPPY Awards 2021 in the Australia/New Zealand/Pacific Rim – Best Regional Fiction category, as well as the Bronze Award in Adult Fiction at the Wishing Shelf Independent Book Awards 2020. In 2023, she secured the Literary Titan Gold Book Award, a testament to her excellence in writing.

Residing in Melbourne with her family, Janice intricately weaves cultural superstitions into her narratives, drawing from her upbringing where such beliefs were deeply embedded in daily life and customs. Her bestselling series, "Haunting Clarisse," has consistently soared to the top of Amazon Kindle rankings, captivating readers with its blend of occult supernatural, ghosts, haunted houses, and British horror.

Janice's journey as an author began with a simple cup of coffee, sparking the inspiration to translate her fascination with cultural superstitions into gripping tales of horror. Her books are renowned for delivering heart-thumping, bone-chilling, and thought-provoking paranormal experiences, each narrative offering a fresh twist that keeps readers enthralled worldwide.

Stay updated on Janice Tremayne's latest releases by following the author.

 

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Wednesday, June 25, 2025

Jack and Gil by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #ParanormalRomance @changelingpress



LGBTQ, Paranormal Romance, Shifters

Date Published: June 27, 2025



Gilbert Sullivan, crown prince of the basilisks, hates his name, but he fears the rhyme may be prophecy.

 

Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 1): When Prince Gilbert Sullivan meets Jack Sowerby, the new head of SearchLight, his attraction won’t let him stay away. Jack’s need for Prince Gilbert blossoms and he’s unable to resist -- until he’s forcibly changed into a magical creature. Will their shattered relationship ever be restored?

 

Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 2)

Jack is falling apart, but no one seems to notice. As Jack withdraws, the tide of war rises. Jack must find a way to regain his strength and determination or SearchLight will fall. And he’s convinced he must do it alone.

 

Rhyme of Love (Jack & Gil 3)

Gil struggles to hide his loss of status from Jack, but when he finally confesses, Jack blurts out his secret. Jack knows he screwed up. Well, almost. Running the risk of losing Gil, Jack must learn to lie convincingly, or he’ll lose SearchLight, his life, and Gil, as well.

 


Excerpt from Rhyme of Longing

 

Jack wanted so badly to be done with this night that he felt uncomfortable in his skin. That was not the proper way to begin thinking about his sixty-eighth birthday, his five-year anniversary as the head of SearchLight Academy. This was a party for both those things but no one said “no” to Agent Weinberg.

Not necessarily the most powerful magical being in the world, she was still the head of the entire organization. Even though she held the nominal title of “head of Public Relations,” SearchLight’s whole reason for existing was to protect the relationship between magical and nonmagical peoples. Which was, of course, officially, no relationship at all. SearchLight was a secret and must remain so.

The influence she held would make most magical creatures bow in submission. Jack, being merely human, was suitably impressed. And although as yet not cowed, he was too fond of his life to waste it needlessly. Not that Agent Weinberg had killed anyone. Recently.

Jack took a deep breath in through his nose as the limousine pulled up to the curb. He’d been commanded to take this limo and the implicit service of a driver, and although he hadn’t enjoyed it particularly, he was glad that he hadn’t needed to find a place to park in downtown Washington, DC. So, unsure if he was supposed to tip the driver but wanting to show his appreciation, he stepped around to the driver’s side after the car was parked at the curb and offered the person behind the wheel, whom, his telepathic sense, told him wasn’t human, ten dollars.

“Would you be trying to bribe me to take you home, Agent Sowerby?”

Jack saw the humor in the green eyes turned up to his and smiled. “Never in life,” he told the Irish-sounding sprite or Faery or leprechaun. Damn, sometimes he wished for a werewolf’s sense of smell so he’d know the magical creatures around him at once.

“You’re a good man, Agent Sowerby. Don’t let her bully you now.” And with that, he winked and rolled up his window. Jack stepped around the car to the sidewalk and watched the limo drive away.

“Hey there.” The voice was soft, lightly accented, and full of a syrupy, sarcastic undertone that put Jack’s hackles up. He turned more slowly than he could have, wanting to appear older and so less threatening. He gazed at the three people facing him and saw they were all armed.

He was aware of others watching from the doorway of the restaurant but knew they wouldn’t intercede unless it became obvious he couldn’t handle himself. That was one thing about Agent Weinberg he didn’t like much. She believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy.

The woman who’d spoken was smiling in a particularly condescending way. “Got a handout for me?” She twirled the knife in her right hand as she reached out with her left for the ten spot Jack still held.

Jack offered it, keeping a good distance from her, forcing her to step forward to take the bill. He was aware of the other two moving to flank him. He disliked using his telepathic sense against what he considered to be defenseless people, magical or mundane, and yet he wouldn’t risk his own life to preserve theirs. “I suggest you take this and be on your way,” he said softly, putting a slight psychic push into the words. He blanketed the area with his calming presence, lacking the ability to focus on more than two people at once. Both of the men who’d been flanking him stopped. One of them shook his head but the other was definitely under Jack’s control.

“Back off,” Jack said and watched the woman lower her knife a little.

She snatched at the bill and her knife hand flicked upward.

Jack dropped the ten spot and caught her wrist. The knife’s blade skidded across the waterproof material of his trench coat. He forced her to drop the knife as he said, “Go away.”

The man under his control turned and fled. But the other lunged at Jack. Yanking the woman close, Jack used her as a shield. The other man’s blade slid between her ribs. He swore, stumbling back, and lost his grip on his knife. As he turned to flee, Jack lowered the woman to the ground. He shouted, “Someone call nine-one-one.”

Someone joined him out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t Agent Weinberg. It wasn’t a SearchLight agent he knew. There was regal bearing in the other’s posture as he crouched beside Jack. “Let me heal her.”

Jack didn’t protest, although he did skate his telepathic sense outward to determine if this was a magical creature. The fact that he’d said “heal” rather than “help” argued for him not being human. He came into contact with an impenetrable psychic wall and winced as his telepathic sense bounced off. Well, there weren’t all that many humans who could resist even his most casual reach. Ergo, this was a magical creature.

Jack nodded and said, “Go ahead.” He retreated inside his own head and as he pulled out his cell phone, unwilling to trust to others to call for help, he watched the broad-shouldered male beside him spit into his hand and press the palm against the wound even as he pulled the knife free.

Dragon, Jack thought. Dragons could heal with their saliva or a blood exchange. But this wasn’t a dragon Jack knew.

 


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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Tuesday, June 24, 2025

HAMMER by Harley Wylde #MCromance @changelingpress

 


(Dixie Reapers MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: June 27, 2025

 


Get ready to dive into the gritty yet heartwarming world of the Dixie Reapers.

 

Amelia: I know monsters. Hammer isn't one, regardless of what he says. He's a born protector with a big heart, and he's exactly what my family needs. Sure, there's a big age difference between us, but why should I care about other people's opinions? All that matters is that Hammer makes me happy. He's just what my sons need and he and the Dixie Reapers can protect me from my piece of s**t ex. Anything else is unimportant. Now I just have to convince him that we make a good team.

Hammer: I haven't walked the path of righteousness by any means, but it doesn't mean I'm a heartless bastard. Found out I had a kid who's now a Prospect. Discovered I had a granddaughter, and now I'm a great-grandfather. Adopted a kid who didn't have anyone. None of that makes up for the shit I've done in my past, or the fact I've been in and out of prison most of my life. So why does the sweetest woman I've ever met see me as her savior and not the monster I really am? Somehow she's become mine, along with her teen boys. If anyone ever said I'd be a family man, I'd have laughed in their faces. Guess the joke's on me.


Are you ready to experience a love story that challenges the boundaries and proves that every heart deserves a second chance?

 

Warning: Hammer is intended for readers 18+ due to adult situations, bad language, and violence. There's no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a guaranteed HEA!

 



EXCERPT

 

Amelia

I sat on the deserted Florida beach as dusk painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, my boys flanking me like sentinels. The rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore masked our hushed voices, nature’s white noise ensuring no one would overhear plans that could get us killed.

We’d chosen this spot carefully -- far enough from the tourist areas to avoid casual onlookers, but public enough that Piston wouldn’t think to look for us here. My old man hated beaches, hated sand, hated anything that couldn’t be controlled. The vastness of the ocean offended him somehow, as if the world had no right to be bigger than his ego.

The setting sun cast long shadows across the sand, stretching our silhouettes into distorted versions of ourselves. How fitting. We’d been living as warped reflections of a family for too long -- smiling in public while wearing concealer over bruises, making excuses for absences at school functions, practicing cover stories until they flowed from our lips more naturally than the truth.

“Do you think he knows we’re gone yet?” I asked, my voice barely audible above the surf.

Neither of my sons answered immediately. They’d learned to measure their words, to calculate risks before speaking. Another gift from their father.

The breeze coming off the water carried a chill that had nothing to do with temperature. Until this week, I’d been biding my time and slowly preparing. I’d learned the hard way what happened when we ran. Then things changed and I knew I needed to get us out of there. Waiting wasn’t a luxury we could afford. Watching Piston, the boy’s father, slam my youngest son’s head against the kitchen counter had severed whatever twisted loyalty I still felt toward him. I’d been with the enforcer for the Devil’s Minions for seventeen years. At least sixteen years too damn long.

I glanced at Chase’s profile, so much like his father’s it sometimes made my heart stutter with fear. But where Piston’s features were permanently hardened by cruelty and excess, my sixteen-year-old son’s face showed a different kind of hardness -- determination, protectiveness, the kind of strength that built rather than destroyed. He’d been taking the brunt of his father’s rage for years, positioning himself between Piston and his younger brother whenever possible.

On my other side sat Levi, his slender shoulders hunched against the evening air. At fifteen, he should have been worrying about homework and video games, not researching safe houses and motorcycle club rivalries. The fading yellow-green bruise around his eye made my stomach knot with guilt. I should have left years ago.

“We’ve got about eighteen hours before he realizes this isn’t a shopping trip,” Chase said finally, scanning the beach for potential threats. Always vigilant, my oldest. “Maybe less if he checks the bank account. Especially since he thinks we’re staying overnight somewhere. When we don’t check into a motel, he’ll come looking for us.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of time pressing down. Piston hadn’t wanted me to have access to money -- control was his favorite weapon -- but I’d been skimming cash from the household funds for months, hiding small bills in a tampon box he’d never deign to touch. It wasn’t much but combined with the emergency credit card I’d applied for in secret, it might be enough to get us to safety.

“He’ll come after us,” I said, stating what we all knew. Piston, aka John Minsley, didn’t lose possessions, and that’s all we were to him -- things to own, to use, to break when the mood struck him.

Levi’s fingers curled around mine, his palm clammy despite the cool evening air. “We planned for that, Mom. The Devil’s Boneyard MC --”

“Keep your voice down,” Chase hissed, though there was no one within a hundred yards of us.

The mention of another motorcycle club sent ice through my veins. Trading one MC for another seemed like jumping from the fire into a different kind of hell. But Levi had done his research, had shown me the forum posts from women who’d escaped abusive situations with their help.

“I know you’re scared,” I told them both, squeezing Levi’s hand. “I am too. But we can’t stay. Not anymore.”

The evidence of that decision was written on my youngest son’s face, in the shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and the bruising from his father’s temper. It was etched in the scars on Chase’s back from that time Piston had caught him trying to call for help. It was branded into my own skin, hidden beneath long sleeves even in Florida’s heat.

Behind us, beyond the dunes and the sparse vegetation, our packed car waited -- everything we could safely take without raising suspicion crammed into the trunk. Old clothes, important documents hidden in tampon boxes and hollowed-out books, the few mementos I couldn’t bear to leave behind.

The sky deepened to purple as we sat there, three refugees planning a desperate escape from a man who would rather see us dead than free. But in that moment, with the endless ocean before us and my boys beside me, I felt something I hadn’t experienced in years -- hope, fragile as sea foam but just as persistent.

Chase stood abruptly, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the sand as he paced a few steps away, never taking his eyes off our surroundings. At sixteen, he already carried himself like a man who’d seen too much, his shoulders set with a tension that no teenager should know. The ocean breeze ruffled his brown hair -- the same shade as mine -- but his green eyes, Piston’s eyes, scanned the beach with a vigilance that broke my heart.

“Someone’s coming,” he muttered, nodding toward a couple walking their dog at the far end of the beach. “We should move.”

I watched as he shifted his stance, angling his body to place himself between us and the distant strangers. The motion was so automatic, so ingrained, that I doubted he even realized he was doing it. Years of protecting his brother, of trying to shield me when he could -- it had become instinct. And it made me feel like a shit mother.

“They’re just walking their dog, Chase,” I said softly. “They’re not his men.”

His jaw tightened, the muscle jumping beneath his tanned skin. “You don’t know that. Piston has eyes everywhere.”

“We’ve been careful.”

“Not careful enough.” He glanced at his brother, his expression softening marginally before hardening again. “Levi’s research is good, but Piston will call in every favor, track every account, hunt down every friend we’ve ever had.” He knelt in front of me, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Mom, if we do this, there’s no halfway. We either disappear completely or we don’t bother running at all.”

The fierce intensity in his eyes reminded me so much of his father that for a moment, fear flickered through me -- not of Chase, never of him, but of the genetic legacy he carried. Would my gentle boy who used to catch and release spiders from our bathroom eventually morph into the monster who’d sired him? Or was that intensity, channeled through love instead of hate, the very thing that might save us?

 

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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Monday, June 23, 2025

Wild in Minnesota by Mary Lee Painter #RomanticComedy

 


Romantic Comedy

Date Published: June 23, 2025

 


The last place Fern wants to be his back home as the Maid of Honor in her cousin's wedding. She's at a cabin by herself for a few days getting ready for the bachelor/bachelorette weekend, when rough and tough Gabe bursts through the door in the middle of the night. Thinking he's an intruder she starts throwing punches resulting in a brawl in the kitchen. She then learns he's a NHL hockey player and teammate of her brother's.

Fern doubts every Instinct she has due to her terrible past life choices. With an undeniable spark between the two, they hatch up a " weekend pass" option allowing her a few days with the wild one while keeping her heart intact. But after the crazy wedding party weekend including a high-speed chase, Fern overhears a shocking conversation and bolts. Gabe persuades her for another chance at the same time her brother finds out and all hell breaks loose.

After an unexpected twist and a decision that ends with her bringing a fake date to the wedding, her cousin disappears. Fern has no option but to turn to Gabe to help her locate the missing bride.


About the Author


Mary Lee Painter resides in Omaha Nebraska with her family. She is the author of Wild in Minnesota as well as the romcom The Other Fork in the Road on Amazon or barnesandnoble.com. Mary Lee has her first YA novel entitled Worst Idea Ever which will be published by Melange Books in February 2026, and adult romcom called Ding Dong, I'm home in July of 2026. She also has an adult rom-com entitled Quarterback Blitz that would be released in February of 2027.

Mary Lee loves Minnesota Wild Hockey, hanging with family, and Dove chocolate.


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Wednesday, June 18, 2025

Innocent & Sweet by Megan Slayer #NewAdult #Romance @changelingpress

 


Contemporary New Adult Romance

Date Published: June 20, 2025

 


Anissa Dunn wants one man -- Kameron. He’s got looks, brains and a boatload of attitude… and all that muscle. A girl can only take so much, and he's her heart's desire. She’s not afraid to give as good as she gets and she wants him to be her teacher in all things carnal.

There's only one catch -- he's her bodyguard and the rules state she can't date the staff.

But rules are meant to be broken…

 



EXCERPT

I will make him notice me. Anissa adjusted her dress. The cherry-red halter frock hung on her thin frame. So much for the correct fit. She sighed. No matter what she did, she couldn't put on weight. She debated what to add to improve her figure. If she wore the leather jacket, she'd appear edgy. The clunky boots helped increase her height, so she was fine there. But her bust... drat. She peered down at her chest. A wave of nausea hit her as she thought about her dating past. Guys didn't want to date a woman with a flat chest -- or so they'd told her.

She spied the gel bra cups she'd bought during her last trip to the fabric store. If she had boobs, maybe the guy of her dreams would finally notice her. He had to.

Anissa stuffed the chilly padding beneath the cups of her dress. Her boobs looked huge. Instead of the burst of confidence she'd expected, she hated her reflection in the mirror. The additions didn't fit her frame. But she had a date and no choice but to do her best to entice him. If fake boobs worked, then fine. She'd take her chances.

She donned the jacket, then grabbed her purse and hurried downstairs.

Kam stood in the foyer. He wore the same battered leather jacket, faded jeans and dark sunglasses as he always did. He touched his earpiece. "In position."

Her heart fluttered. Kameron Stone personified sex in human form. Her nipples ached, and she pressed her knees together. She'd never been with a man and wanted Kam to be her first. If she had her way, he'd be her only.

Would he fuck her?

Better yet, would he love her the way she loved him?

"I have the package," Kam said. "Preparing to leave."

She frowned. The package. She didn't have the honor of being referred to by her name. Gaining his attention wasn't going to be easy. "I'm ready."

Kam nodded. "This way, Ms. Dunn."

"Anissa." He'd used her last name. Dang it. She'd pleaded with him so many times to call her by her first name. Ms. Dunn was her mother. She was just Anissa.

"Ms. Dunn." Kam escorted her to the front porch, then down the steps. He opened the passenger door of the limo. "After you."

"Thanks." She couldn't leave the house without her trusty bodyguard, Kam. She settled on the seat and folded her hands on her lap. Kam would do anything to protect her, and she trusted him, but she was twenty-one and her father needed to put some faith in her. He'd sheltered her from everything. She didn't resent him for trying -- when she turned twenty-five, she'd come into a hefty sum of cash via the trust her mother had left her, but still. She'd gone to an all-girls college, a private all-girls high school and never spent more than a few hours on her own. She crossed her legs, and her skirt rode high on her leg. Did Kam notice? Did he care?

She swept her gaze over him as he sat beside her. Strong and silent. He wore his clothes like a second skin, could eviscerate anyone who tried to get too close, but Kam said so little. Half the time she had no idea if he listened to her. Knowing him, he tuned her out.

"Kam?" She shifted in her seat to face him. Her skirt rode higher. He didn't pay her any attention, which rankled her. "Kameron."

"Ms. Dunn." He seemed to stare straight ahead.

She whipped out her phone. She couldn't go through with the date. Not now. She sent a text to the driver, requesting he stay in the driveway. She'd sent the itinerary to the security team but saw no point in leaving the house. Kam wasn't paying attention to her -- not in the way she wanted. He didn't seem to care.

She sighed. According to the magazines she'd bought, her college roommate and the dirty movies she'd watched in the middle of the night, she had to be aggressive and demand what she wanted. Sure... she could be aggressive. She could demand his attention. But she wasn't sure how.

Anissa switched seats to face Kam. The car rolled to a stop, most likely in front of the house. She parted her legs and leaned back. "Kam."

If he looked at her, she couldn't tell.

"Ms. Dunn?" Kam tensed, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. "Are you okay?"

Nope. He hadn't noticed her lousy attempts to entice him.

"I'm fine," she mumbled. What a liar..."I'd like to talk to you."

"Of course."

He had to make this hard. Fine. She'd be tough. "Did you know where we're going?"

"I do. I've been informed you're to visit Ahuja Cancer Center for the opening of their pediatric wing," Kam said. "Would you like to change?"

The opening of the pediatric wing? She'd never seen that request. "Since when?" Irritation filled her brain. If she'd known she had a real date, she wouldn't have dressed like a streetwalker.

"Your father amended the plans for this evening." Kam's tone remained annoyingly flat. "You're dressed a bit... inappropriately for the event. You should consider a more conservative outfit."

Damn. She shrugged out of her coat. Men wanted blunt, didn't they? She squared her shoulders, then straddled his lap. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. Holy hell. Sitting on his thighs reminded her of being on a bench -- so strong and hard... sturdy. Her nerve endings tingled. What would her stern bodyguard do if she flashed him? Of if she embraced her bold side and stretched across his lap, demanding a spanking? The women in those videos liked being spanked. The idea of having her ass reddened intrigued her. She'd never asked for punishment in her life, but she wanted Kam to dish some out -- right now. She shrugged out of the jacket.

"Ms. Dunn." Kam's tone hitched a bit, but his expression remained blank.

She removed his sunglasses. Looking into his eyes was much better -- and scary as hell. She pursed her lips. Was she coming across as sexy? Shoot. Now she wished she'd left his sunglasses in place so she could use the reflection. Too late now. She licked her lips. If she was going to make a move, she needed to do it already. She draped her arms around his neck. "I need you to help me."

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.


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Tuesday, June 17, 2025

A Deceptive Game Ensues by Sophie Barnes #Romance #Thriller #Giveaway

 

House of Croft, Book 4


Historical Mystery / Thriller / Romance

Date Published: 06-17-2025



An unexpected menace threatens their newfound freedom…

Acquitted of the crime he was accused of, Adrian Croft begins an investigation that could link a duke to his sister's death. But with a fresh series of murders leading straight to Saint George's Hospital, Adrian is torn between his quest for revenge and the need to catch an active killer. For though he may have sworn to yield his power in order to gain a pardon, all bets are off when villains threaten his city.

Having proven her unfailing loyalty to her husband, Samantha Croft settles into married life - an idyl that quickly crumbles when she and Adrian get caught up in a new series of murders. As they follow a trail that leads them through subterranean tunnels and to a secret organization, they face another threat too: a ghost from Adrian's past who's about to bring war to their doorstep.


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 eight 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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