IN HER SANCTUM by Emma Bailey #LesbianRomance

 

Lesbian Romance, Lesbian Fiction

Date Published: March 3, 2025

 

 

They’re opposites in the widest degree.

Elise Hahnfeld is the ‘perfect’, obedient, high-performing office worker. She’s been a doormat for so many years it felt second-nature, but she’s growing exasperated at the drudgery of her normal life, her job that’s taken more from her than she can afford to give. If only someone was there to show her a different path, one where the unknown can be exciting instead of terrifying. Someone who could distract her from the mundane. When Elise loses everything, desperation drives her to do something unthinkable.

She gives up control to a dominant woman with a taste of the forbidden.

Sierra Kernan isn’t a stereotypical Mistress. She’s masculine, cocky… and exactly Elise’s type. Sierra is a barber-turned disciplinarian with a body that could turn even the straightest woman into a flustered mess with just a command. Sierra is everything that Elise isn’t: confident, strong, and self-assured.

When their paths meet, Elise realizes that Sierra isn’t the revered Mistress she claims, but a woman with a dark past. Sierra’s jealous twin sister Abi is a toughened mercenary determined to make their lives a whole lot messier.

It’s a delicate dance of trust and submission. Elise is repressing a feistiness that only Mistress Sierra knows how to tame… but who says that being tamed is a bad thing?

About the Author

I'm an indie author, gamer, cat lover and geek culture consumer. I work as an IT technician. I'm creatively-wired and love technology.

I started writing as a hobby, poetry and creative writing, and then I branched out into writing novels. There were a lot of unfinished drafts that never materialised, until I finally found myself, seemingly out of nowhere, writing and fleshing out an entire novel. The ideas flowed, and so too did the words on the page.

Six years later, I have returned with an entirely new direction and narrative style. I focus on writing sapphic, lesbian stories that I feel are often underrepresented in media and especially on bookshop shelves.

Allowing the reader to have the freedom to interpret things in their own mind plays a part in my overall writing style. My writing isn't always black and white, but symbolic and colourful. I find power in writing strong, capable female protagonists.

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

Only in September by Cynthia Flowers #WomensFiction #Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions to celebrate the release day of ONLY IN SEPTEMBER by Cynthia Flowers. Cynthia will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

When Jacqueline follows her trusty Labrador Bailey down a hidden path to the beach, she's unaware that her vacation plans on a small island off the New England coast has already taken her life in a new direction. Running into an unassuming local beach comber stirs new thoughts, desires, and a self-determination she never knew she possessed. Jacqueline will need to trust her instincts and make the most of what fate has in store if she wants the future that, until now, she has only dared to dream of.

Read an Excerpt

During their return trip on the trail, they happened upon a series of small cottages. One of them was having exterior repairs done. The sudden screech of a buzz saw gave them a startle. Bailey was off leash and ran over to investigate. Stephen called after her.

The buzz saw suddenly stopped. Then someone from behind the cottage exclaimed, “Hey, I know you.”

The person behind the voice rushed out from behind the cottage and came into view. It was Michael. He looked at Jacqueline. Their eyes locked. She was happy to see him, and he seemed equally pleased to see her. Bailey jumped up on Michael like she had when they first met earlier in the week at the beach.

“Hey, there.” Michael motioned to Jacqueline. His smile was unavoidable.

Jacqueline slowly walked toward him. She didn’t want to seem too eager in front of Stephen.

“Do you two know each other?” Stephen inquired.

“Well, sort of,” Michael said with a chuckle. “We met at the beach the other day. Or, I should say, our dogs met at the beach. We just happened to be tagging along.”

Jacqueline broke her silence and elaborated further about how the pooches got along famously. “I meant to make it to the beach again before setting sail, but the week got away from us.”

“Don’t need to apologize to me. It’s Serendipity you need to square with. But unfortunately, she’s not with me today. Maybe another time,” Michael suggested.

“Considering we’re on the early afternoon ferry tomorrow, I don’t think that’s possible,” Stephen said deliberately and looked at Jacqueline to finish what he started. Instead, she looked down at Bailey to avoid Stephen’s gaze.

“Oh, well, I suspect you’ll be back, “Michael shot back. “It’s seldom that someone visits this island only once.”

As they started off, she lingered behind Stephen for a moment to clip Bailey’s collar to the leash and took the opportunity to mouth at Michael, “See you in the morning.”

He acknowledged her invitation with a wink.

About the Author: Cynthia Flowers, a recently retired advertising professional, now grant writer, resides with her husband and four-year old Labrador named Eddie, at their “sanctuary” in Upstate New York, Although previously published, this is Cynthia's first book of fiction. Early on in grade school, Cynthia looked forward to creative writing class and enjoyed reading her stories aloud to her eager classmates.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Only-September-Cynthia-Flowers-ebook/dp/B0DWT79L6N/ref=sr_1_1

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CHASING MAGIC by Kira Stone #LGBTQ #Romance @changelingpress

 

Not In Use (#1)

 

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Romance

Date to be Published: April 25, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

Love -- and Magic -- find desperate lovers in unlikely places.

Chase: It is a madness that draws Chase to the Louisiana bayou, leaving his sister and his art studio behind. The fact that he longs to strip off his clothes and run naked through the swamp with the wild creatures who live there isn't his first clue that something isn't right with him... but it just might be his last.

A Painter's Price: Jason has studied the Painter for years, but when he finally meets Eric he's not prepared for the powerful erotic feelings the artist provokes in him. His need to touch Erik slowly overrides every other, until there is nothing he can do but surrender, mind, body and soul.

Rythan's Becoming: Rythan knows he must harness his sexual energy and burn through his shell to truly Become an adult. But Becoming also requires the help of his catalysts, a pair of adults he's never met, and water doesn't combine easily with fire and air. Can Rythan pass the final test and meet his Destiny?

 

Excerpt from A Painter's Price

Copyright ©2025 Kira Stone

 

This is one fine orgy. The self-congratulatory thought filtered through Erik's lust-fueled mind as he licked expensive red wine off the impressive cock bobbing before his lips. Who his mystery lover was, Erik couldn't say. He had a nice meaty shaft, though. Not terribly long, but wide enough to split a man open. Erik's sphincter spasmed just from imagining the feel of that thick cock sliding into him.

Salty-sweet pre-cum hit his tongue. He gave his lover's ass a slap to bring forth another drop. Nectar of the gods, as far as Erik was concerned. Every man tasted different, and yet he loved them all.

"Oh, fuck me," the man whimpered around his mouthful of Erik's cock.

"Not this time."

The spirit was willing, but the body grew weak. He'd been going at it, in one form or another, for several days now. The need for a long, uninterrupted sleep gnawed at him. He was hard pressed to keep his eyes open. Silently promising to make it up to his lover later, if he remembered, Erik sucked in earnest.

His lover attempted to return the attention. Erik winced as teeth caught his sensitive skin. All the more reason to end this quickly, he decided. At the moment, this man needed more education than he had the patience for.

His lover bucked and groaned under him. It didn't take long to coax him into orgasm. Seed spilled across Erik's tongue in a honey-sweet river. He drank down every last drop, feeling it was his due for the hard work he'd put in.

Under his guidance, the man continued to pleasure him with hand and mouth. Finally a weak orgasm rolled through Erik in quiet surrender, proving he'd been right about his need for a lengthy respite. He might have stayed awake long enough to mumble a word of praise before he lost himself in the warm, dark embrace of sleep.

* * *

A cool breeze ripped through the room some time later. The long brocade curtains surrounding the bed writhed, and the firelight flickered as though it were about to die in its wake. That alone would not have disturbed Erik from his well-earned slumber. No, a great booming voice startled him out of a deep sleep.

"Since you love your art above all else, I hereby sentence you to an eternity of creation."

"What?" Fear trickled through the horrible hangover clouding Erik's brain. Though he couldn't yet see the shadowy figure standing beside the bed through his bloodshot eyes, he recognized the voice. The king's mage was not pleased, and that was never a good thing.

"For the rest of your life, you will produce some of the finest art ever created."

Well, that didn't sound so bad. Painting was, after all, his passion. "Errrr… thank you."

A sneer entered the mage's voice as he continued. "Your creative energies will be your only sustenance. You will not eat or drink or sleep. You will not be troubled by mortal weaknesses except on the one night a year when the price of being the greatest painter alive must be paid to me, a fragment of your inner spirit to be given to a vessel of my choosing. You will exist solely to create… until your soul is empty."

Now that last bit seemed a little extreme. Honestly, Erik didn't know what good his soul was doing for him, but he didn't think it would be wise to go around without one. "Is that really necessary? Painting is all I'm good at anyway."

"Painting… and debauchery. The king has lost all patience with the discord you create among his court with your callous, self-indulgent behavior. Could you not even leave the livestock alone?" the mage muttered with disgust.

"That wasn't me," Erik protested as he tried to extract himself from the tangle of limbs pinning him down. A small corner of his brain wondered again who the bed belonged to, how long he'd been in it, and if his host's largess would hold out until he had a bite of bread and cheese, maybe another mug of wine.

"Not in body, perhaps, but the act was done with your encouragement. You sow depravity into the souls of the good people of this land, leaving a trail of broken marriages and broken hearts behind. The king will have no more of this debauchery!"

"I hardly think all the consequences of the court's questionable behavior can be blamed on me." Erik looked around for his clothes, a little intimidated to be talking to the king's mage without a stitch on. However, every garment he found smelled rank with spent passion. He flipped the bed curtain over his lap instead. "I enjoy a good party. What soul doesn't? That's human nature, not a crime."

"The evidence is quite plain, and the king has rendered his judgment. He left it to me to determine your punishment. After a fortnight of observation, I see the only way to change your ways is to give you exactly what you desire."

Warning bells clamored in his head, but Erik couldn't puzzle out exactly what about that statement troubled him. "Would the king be satisfied if I left the city for a few weeks?" Surely he could convince one of the rich lords in the outlying districts to keep him sheltered and fed for a month.

"Your departure might satisfy him, but it will not satisfy me. From this day forth, you will breathe art, dine on creative passion, and survive as long as your depraved, artistic soul can sustain you." The mage's robes rippled as if an angry fall wind had whirled around him. "As I will it, so mote it be," the mage intoned with an earth-shaking power.

And, just like that, Erik's life transformed.

 

About the Author

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

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

Author Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Goodreads

Author’s Website

 

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

 

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AZRAEL by Harley Wylde #MCromance @changelingpress

Devil's Boneyard MC (#13)

Romantic Suspense / MC Romance

Date to Be Published: April 25, 2025

Publisher:  Changeling Press

 

Sometimes, to find yourself, you have to get lost in the shadows. Are you ready to embrace the darkness?

 

Zara: My mother vanished without a trace, and no one seems willing to help. Except for one enigmatic figure whispered about in hushed tones: the Angel of Death, Azrael, a guardian of justice who ensures bad men meet their fate. I set out to find him. I didn't count on finding him to be the sexiest man I'd ever met, or falling for him. In his arms, I find an unexpected sanctuary. I should be terrified of his violent world, but he offers me safety and ignites a passion I've never felt before.

Azrael: I live in the shadows, doing whatever I must to protect those who have lost all hope. It's no place for a woman. Then I met Zara.  Her fierce spirit and unwavering courage break down my walls. I'll stop at nothing to bring her mother home, even if it means I leave a trail of bodies in my wake. For Zara, I'd do anything, even walk through hell itself. I never wanted to fall in love... but now that I have, I'll do anything to keep my new family safe. I'm the monster who hunts other monsters, the one who defends those who can't protect themselves. Now I need to make sure that darkness doesn't touch those I love, or die trying.

 

Lose yourself in a world where love conquers fear, and courage fights against the darkness.

Excerpt

Copyright ©2025 Harley Wylde

 

I grabbed some paper towels and wet them, wiping at the blood spatters on my shirt. Better to have a wet shirt than one covered in red. When I was done, I washed my hands once more then dried them. As I stared at my reflection, I tried to see my mother in me. I’d never known my dad, but I liked to think I didn’t have a damn thing in common with him.

My mom been dead a long-ass time. Cancer took her slow, gave me time to say goodbye but not enough time to become the man she’d wanted me to be. College educated. Safe job. Family.

“Sorry, Mom,” I whispered. “Didn’t quite work out that way.”

Instead, I’d found the Devil’s Boneyard. Or they’d found me. Stripes had seen something in me. Potential, he called it. Cinder had given me purpose. The club had given me family.

Would she understand? I’d like to think so. Mom had been pragmatic about the world. “Sometimes good people have to do bad things to protect what matters,” she’d told me once, after I’d gotten suspended for breaking a bully’s nose. She hadn’t approved, exactly, but she’d understood.

The men in that alley weren’t good people. They would have brought poison into our town, destroyed lives, all for profit. I’d stopped that. Three lives against how many I’d potentially saved?

The math made sense to me, even if it wouldn’t have to her.

I checked myself in the mirror one more time. No visible blood. Nothing to attract attention. I ran my fingers through my hair and practiced looking normal. Not too hard. I’d gotten good at it over the years.

Before leaving, I wiped down everything I’d touched. The Devil’s Boneyard had friends in the police department, but certain habits kept you alive in this business. Attention to detail. Never get sloppy.

I unlocked the door. The attendant glanced up as I passed, his gaze moving over me in assessment.

“You look better,” he said, voice gravelly from years of cigarettes.

I stopped. “Better than what?”

He shrugged. “Than when you came in. Like maybe you found what you were looking for.”

Something about his stare made me take a closer look. The tattoo peeking out from his sleeve wasn’t just any ink. I recognized the style. Prison work.

“Maybe I did,” I said carefully. “You work here long?”

“Long enough to know when to mind my own business.” He tapped his finger against the counter. “Long enough to know what kind of men come through here needing to clean up.

I felt my muscles tense, ready for trouble. “That right?”

He nodded toward my cut. “Devil’s Boneyard. You boys do good work. Kept my sister’s kid off the shit when the Undead Serpents were running it through here. I respect that.”

I relaxed slightly. “Just doing what needs doing.”

“Heard there’s new players moving in. Minions or some shit.” He spat into a cup beside the register. “Bad news, those boys. No respect.”

“No respect,” I agreed. “And not long for this world if they keep pushing.”

He nodded, understanding passing between us. “Good hunting, brother.”

I pushed open the door, night air cool against my face. The town spread out before me, lights glittering in the darkness. Most people out there had no idea what happened in the shadows to keep them safe. They didn’t know about men like me, or the lines we crossed so they wouldn’t have to.

That was fine. Let them sleep easy. I’d carry the weight of what I’d done tonight. Add it to all the rest. It wasn’t a burden anymore -- just the price of the life I’d chosen.

I started my bike and pulled onto the empty street. The compound waited, and after that, more work to be done. The town needed cleaning, and I was just getting started.

I rolled through the gates of the Devil’s Boneyard compound just past midnight, the tension easing from my shoulders as I passed under the skull-adorned archway. Home. Or the closest thing to it I’d had in years. Floodlights illuminated the lot where dozens of bikes stood in neat rows, chrome glinting like scattered stars. Two Prospects snapped to attention as I pulled up.

“They’re waiting for you,” one of them said, not meeting my eyes directly. Smart kid. He’d learn the rules fast enough -- never look too eager, never too scared. Balance was everything in this life. After the shit we’d dealt with, we’d cracked down on the rules when bringing in Prospects. Too many rotten apples.

“How long they been in there?” I asked.

“‘Bout an hour. Stripes came in with news from town, then Samurai showed up. Charming’s still in his office.”

I nodded and headed for the clubhouse. The two-story building had been renovated recently. Now it was somewhere between a fortress and headquarters.

The heavy door opened to the sound of classic rock and the smell of whiskey, smoke, and leather. Our main room sprawled before me, all exposed brick and worn hardwood floors. The long bar against the far wall gleamed with decades of polishing. Trophy pipes and old photos covered the walls, history and legacy looking down on each new generation.

Three of my brothers played pool in the corner, their laughter cutting through Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” pumping from the speakers. A couple of club girls lounged on the couches, one stretching like a cat as I walked in. She smiled, inviting. I gave her a nod but kept moving. Business first.

Stripes and Samurai sat at the bar, hunched over amber-filled glasses, their heads close in conversation. Stripes spotted me first.

“The hunter returns,” he said, his Russian accent thick as always. “Was beginning to think you’d fallen into trouble, brother.”

I slid onto the stool beside him. “Takes more than a few Minion punks to cause me trouble.”

The Prospect behind the bar, Harland, had a glass of Jack in front of me before I could ask. Smart kid. I took a long swallow, the burn a welcome friend after the night’s work.

“You find what Charming sent you for?” Samurai asked, his voice quiet.

“Found it and handled it.” I set my glass down. “Three of them doing a weapons exchange in the alley behind Murphy’s. High-end stuff -- Glocks, AR-15s, quality ammo. Not street-level shit. Bag is on my bike.”

Stripes whistled low. “They’re arming for war, then.”

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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Tales of the Ocean City by Christopher Kaufman #EpicFantasy #giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Christopher Kaufman will be awarding $45 worth of digital products from his website to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A young civilization is turning the corner into the future, but first they must face a terrible enemy from their deepest past - The Vorm..

The main characters are a young man named Harl’ut and his lifelong companion Vispushin - who is a perIanth, a kind of telepathic pegasus. Join them on this epic adventure as they lead a group of young warriors into the heart of the Vorm Hive.

Book One: Battle In The Sky is the first of five books which comprise the opening series of this epic tale. Here, Harl’ut and Vispushin and The Princess Bryn’lynn, engage in desperate battle over the southern plain with savage Vorm warriors. You will be uplifted by the passionate and thrilling conclusion of the first installment of this fantasy adventure.

Book Two: Descent Into The Abyss, Harl’ut recovers from his harrowing adventure from Book One: Battle In The Sky. He walks through the streets of The Ocean City, visits the Sculpture Garden and his friend, Elá, the bard, and engages in exciting training games with warrior/mentor, Calanctus. Then the story takes you down the throat of the vast volcano, Pla’than’taa, once worshipped as a god, where Harl’ut enacts a deadly initiation ritual, confronts the barbaric past of his people and battles a terrifying monster.

Read an Excerpt

Bryn’lynn stood in a weary fighter’s crouch. She brandished her slender blade in her remaining hand and held her torn wrist, bound with tunic, against her breast. Though intensely brave, she was yet filled with horror as the monster approached. A riotous gout of spikes and horns, shadows and glare-trails attacked her senses.

It stopped in front of her, a full twelve feet in height. It had dropped the barbed net it had carried and now wielded a huge, wickedly shaped scimitar in both hands.

Its mission of capture was now changed to one of a quick kill and return to its central hive. The protuberant antennae on the top its head pulsed with energy, a vertical slit in its cold white face dilated open and closed. Shark-like teeth gleamed a lustrous pink.

A chill cascaded coldly along Bryn’lynn’s spine. She raised her weapon. She reached out her mind to Zhi- i’gla and felt only his pain and desperation, but then, through his eyes, she saw a shaft of white light as Vispushin arrived. Hope rose in Zhii’gla’s breast and thence to her own. Zhii’gla charged. Bryn’lynn’s war scream mingled with his.

“Kayaaaaaaa....!”

She drove herself against her enemy. She felt a violent impact and then stood back a pace. Her blade was broken, she dropped it to the dusty earth.

About the Author:

Christopher Kaufman is an author, composer, presenter, illustrative artist and performer. He started imaginative fantasy books with illustrative art at the age of nine. During high school years he found music and attended The New Orleans Center for The Creative Arts and went on to major in music composition in college. He finished his schooling - earning his DMA in music composition at Cornell University where he studied with Pulitzer Prize Winning composers who prize his abilities as a composer.

Christopher is the type of person who needs imaginative fantasy scenarios to get to sleep. Therefore, he emerged from Cornell, not only with his degrees in music, but with the full event structure for his classic epic fantasy series Tales Of The Ocean City in his mind.

He began writing the story down in the early 2000’s, but it did not really come to life until he developed his home music ‘laboratory’ and started creating the music and text at the same time. Thus books one and two of TOC came about simultaneously as both graphically illustrated pages and effulgent audio albums filled with cinematic epic symphonic music.

They exist now as physical books and audio albums (that go together) and the new Video Book version. He performs live tours with the music pouring through speakers, live narration and the colorful pages streaming on screen -a true immersive multi-media experience.

Home Page: http://www.soundartus.com
Author Page: http://talesoftheoceancity.com
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@soundartus4807
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/talesoftheoceancity

Christopher believes in the transformative power of imagination. “Live with imagination!” a Rafflecopter giveaway

Smoke & Mirrors by Joanie Olson #Memoir #giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Joanie Olson will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Searching for an answer to a question you haven't asked yet? You are not alone. One small realization and a whole world unravels.

Woven through these pages are a series of my most significant life events relating to narcissistic victim/survivor syndrome. Inside are keys unlocking mysteries of complex PTSD, compounded through various forms of abuse.

A journey of highs, like the Freedom Convoy, and the lows of a failed longtime marriage. With spiritual forces at work behind the scenes, could a Christian home have so many secrets? The smoke will clear to reveal our true mirrored self.

Read an Excerpt

Oh, how I love to fly. One of my four older brothers, Ferg, loved it too. So much so our mother arranged for a private plane ride when we were little kids. He earned his pilot’s license as a young man, flying over our farm every chance he could. With those experiences growing up, everything about planes was fascinating to me and I was determined to enjoy this flight. As I’d told Michael, I could hardly believe I was leaving the country. It felt like an absolute miracle. I thought it was possible I would never see outside Canada again. Enduring over two years of isolation, confinement, ridicule and regulations mandating people like myself not be allowed to do the same as others. But none of that mattered right now. I was on my way to the place I’d dreamed of many nights. God really does answer prayer countless times.

Norway called to me like a long-lost friend, like a father telling me it was time to come home. I’d been there once before and every day since my return I’ve missed it, doing what I could to make my way back.

The thought of my last trip to the homeland four years prior, sent my head in motion, amazed at how much had changed since then. I was wondering how I’d gotten here. From being a financial advisor with three agencies, married, a son in high school, a daughter with a son of her own, a step-daughter and step grandchildren, a bi-level home on forty acres, the Challenger, dirt bikes, hot tub and camper…so blessed. And now? Well, life was unrecognizable.

When the plane’s landing gear securely retracted back into the plane, I could hear the clunk as I was thinking how light I felt. I’d literally left everything behind at this point. My luggage was in the cargo hold and my backpack I’d used while touring the Norwegian mountains years before was tucked safely beneath my seat.

I’d gone from all that four years ago until now? All alone, literally homeless, a few dollars in my bank account and kids that were fully independent. They didn’t seem to be concerned for much other than trying hard to keep up with their own daily struggles.

About the Author: Joanie was raised on a farm in Saskatchewan, Canada. Life revolved around chores, school and church. Six older siblings and all the nieces and nephews added up to a large family.

Strong in doctrine and armed with a passion for truth, she's walked the walk of faith, facing challenges to overcome. She was married at 19, became a mother to a stepdaughter, and later birthed two children. Following years of turmoil in her marriage, she hit the inevitable breaking point.

Starting life over, she attended broadcasting college, going on to anchor morning news for the airwaves. Feeling isolated and rejected, her drive to help others who have gone through similar circumstances inspired this book. Through the Refiners fire, she's ready to share tools required to escape the fake and embrace the truth.

Amazon: https://amazon.com/dp/1779624719
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/54144406.Joanie_Olson

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Earth's Passion by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #DarkFantasy @changelingpress

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Steamy

Date Published: April 18, 2025

 

As their need for each other grows, so does the danger.

Kailee and Tom are falling for each other, but their secrets continue to come between them. Kailee’s afraid to show her physical scars, while Tom dreads his lover will discover the power those he still calls Master and Mistress hold over him.

Dragon and werewolf must join together in every way to defeat those who would dominate Tom and kill Kailee.

 

 

EXCERPT

Kailee had been lying next to Tom for close to twenty minutes. Her new dragon lover was fast asleep, and she knew she should be resting too. Instead, she was filled with joy and an incautious sense of promise that she hadn’t felt in years.

Tom rolled over, draping his arm over her waist. Kailee wriggled a little as the urge to pee made itself known. A deeper craving drew at her also.

“Are you okay?” Tom mumbled. Then he stiffened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He pulled his arm off her.

She turned over, snuggling in close. “I like it when you touch me. I just… I need to get up and use the bathroom.” It was true, but her ulterior motive was to take so long that he fell back to sleep, and she could go outside.

“I’ll wait up for you,” he said, slurring his words a little.

Kailee kissed his temple. “Go to sleep. I’ll be back in a moment.”

His eyes were already closed. As she watched, he lost the tension in his limbs and the worry lines on his face smoothed out. He began to snore.

She waited another five minutes, to make sure he was well and truly under. He’d had a sucky, hard life and she thought he hadn’t probably slept well for large parts of it. Knowing he was safe here, that she would protect him, made her smile.

She got up, padding to the bathroom after putting on the clothes she’d worn before they made love. Once in the bathroom, she unzipped her jeans. As much as she felt one hundred percent female most of the time, she still enjoyed the simple pleasure of peeing while standing up.

When she was finished, she flushed, zipped up, and washed her hands. Then, moving silently, not wanting to wake anyone up because this pack already knew everyone else’s business as it was, she went to the mudroom, put on her boots, and made her way out of the back door into the gloriously dark night. It was a waxing crescent moon tonight, about four days from the first quarter, and with so little light coming from that celestial orb, the darkness was close as a passionate lover, full of kindness. Like Tom.

She wrapped her arms around her chest, which was flat without the boobs she usually wore. That felt a little awkward but for this one moment, she was able to dismiss the feeling. She’d needed to embrace herself for pure joy’s sake. She’d been so very alone for damn near half her life, relying on gentleness and understanding from those who were either hired professionals or simply much older than she was and thus not quite as in touch with their wolflinghood as she could have wished. Maybe it was foolish to assume someone closer to her own age would have “gotten it,” her experiences and suffering. Still, because Tom understood, and only after so short a time, she thought the idea had slight merit.

Wanting to make some sort of noise to express herself, she began to sing. It was a simple song in Werewelsh, her first language. She’d grown up surrounded by the language developed by werewolves for their own kind, and although other people spoke it now, it remained mostly shared among the ones who had to change at the full moon. Werewolves largely did, though, and she was, first and foremost, a wolf.

She translated in her head as she sang, loving the poetry even though it didn’t rhyme in English.

Moon of darkness, moon of light,

Moon of power and strength.

Moon of my heart, full and wise,

Be with me tonight.

Probably, she thought as her joy crested but didn’t recede, I’m being foolish. He hasn’t even said he loves me.

That was true but what made her heart sing was a simple truth, not complicated by whether Tom wanted to be her mate or not. “In all honesty,” she whispered to the night that seemed to be listening, “I never thought anyone could see past my scars and love me anyway.”

All right, so he hadn’t actually seen her physical scars, her dead name carved into her chest with a silver knife and made to stay because of silver powder. She hadn’t been quite that brave. Still, Tom knew she had a reputation, that she’d killed, and he hadn’t pulled away. Wasn’t that worthy of ecstasy?

She closed her eyes and resumed her singing. Now she sang a song of how the sky so loved the moon that he bid her to cross from one edge to the other so he might admire her beauty. The moon’s response Kailee sang too, reveling in the way the moon demanded something in return: to see the stars scattered before her like diamonds.

Once again, her joy crested until it filled her chest. She broke out in a light sweat. That was when she became aware that the exhilaration she felt wasn’t hers alone.

Wary because she’d been influenced by outsider forces before, although less directly or psychically, she mounted her defenses and scanned the area with her telepathy, seeking the source of the external, pushy force.

At first, she felt nothing and no one. Widening her circle of ability, she fumbled in the darkness of the in-between that existed in the psychic world. Reaching, reaching, she felt a half-familiar mind.

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

 

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BEING BROKEN by Geoffrey R. Jonas #memoir #giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Geoffrey R. Jonas will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A young woman dies alone in a hotel room, her fentanyl-poisoned cocaine still on the desk. She had been missing for nearly 2 weeks. Social Services had been trying to find a place for her to live with her 3-year-old son, whom she had left with her parents. Six months later her father fights for his life in intensive care, but succumbs to his illness because of a lifelong use of alcohol and tobacco. A month after his death her mother is assessed by doctors to be unable to care for herself because of her Alzheimer's and mental health issues brought on by benzodiazepine and alcohol addiction.

The son, brother, stepson is the only one left to pick up the pieces. He begins a journey of the self and finds out the truth of his family. After going over letters, notes, emails, videos, and text messages, he uncovers a disturbing picture of the abuse his sister suffered at the hands of their parents. He also begins to better understand his own struggles with mental health and substance addiction because of the trauma and abuse he also suffered from their parents.

Follow the son as he looks through his family history to discover the generational abuse that trickled down through the years. Learn about how parents who suffer from narcissistic personality disorder emotionally abuse and manipulate their children. See how the abuse and trauma becomes mental illness in the abused, and how they fall into vicious traps of addiction, eating disorders, self-harm, and complex post-traumatic stress disorder. Witness the transformational change of the son as he works on the recovery of his inner child and tries to become the man he was meant to be.

Read an Excerpt

Part 1 - In the beginning…
What Came Before... – Part 1 Maternal Family History

My mother had a difficult upbringing. My mother’s mother was continually pregnant for 16 years, producing 4 boys (Robert, Edward, Charles, Shane) and 3 girls (R – my mother, Lorraine, Claire)2. She would later die of cancer while the children were young. My mother’s father led a jazz orchestra, resembling the ones in movies from the early 20th century that didn’t fit neatly into the category of a symphony or a standard band. He had even played for the queen.

However, the Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD) of my grandfather became overwhelming, and the authorities of that time deemed him unfit to care for the children. They split the children up and put them into foster care. The foster care system back then did not have the safety systems we have in place to protect the children today, and I would not be surprised if some of the children were further emotionally or physically abused in foster care.

About the Author: Geoffrey is a first-time author. He lives peacefully by a lake, spending his time writing, painting, gardening, and woodworking. His recovery is ongoing, and he enjoys his privacy and seclusion.

Website: https://geoffreyrjonas.ca
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/55118142.Geoffrey_R_Jonas
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/livingwithcptsd.bsky.social
Amazon: https://a.co/d/eJTO4wq

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KNUCKLES by Marteeka Karland #MCromance @changelingpress

(Kiss of Death MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: April 18, 2025

 

 

Hannah’s stubborn, abrasive, and vicious. She’s also mine.

Hannah: My life as I knew it ended the night my boyfriend tried to rape me. I killed the swine, and I’m not sorry. After that night, it became my mission to rid the world of as many predators as I could. If that meant I got slapped around a little, I’d sacrifice for the cause. What I didn’t count on was my brother’s best friend coming to my rescue. That dangerous vibe he’s giving off is making me feel things I never expected. Knuckles fought for me. Protected me. Now he’s using words like “claim” and “old lady,” but I’m not sure I want to be anyone’s property. Not unless it means he’s my property too.

Knuckles: I came to Afternoon Delytes to get the information I needed to destroy a woman who’d betrayed me. I never expected to see my best friend’s sister take a backhand to the face. She has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. She’s also vicious. And mine.

 

EXCERPT

Knuckles

“You tell that bitch I’m comin’ for her. She has a week at most to make her peace.” I’d never meant a statement more in my fucking life.

“I’m just puttin’ you in touch with her, Knuckles. Ain’t your errand boy. You want to negotiate, you go through her people.”

“Nothin’ to negotiate. When you confirm your job’s done, you tell her the only thing I want from her is her fuckin’ head on a pike.”

“You’re not gettin’ your daughter back until you talk with her, man. She made that very clear.”

“Too bad for her I already have my daughter.”

Finally, I got a reaction out of Wild Bill. Only a raised eyebrow but way more than the man normally showed. He wasn’t a man I trusted exactly, but he held to a code and I respected that. “OK… That’s news.”

“Is it.” I didn’t phrase my words as a question.

“How long have you had her?”

“Since before they managed to sell Pippa,” I snapped. “I know Beth wants my supplier, and I know she worked for several months to undercut me, so I was prepared for somethin’. It never occurred to me she’d sell her own daughter for a drug deal, but it should have. I knew years ago there was somethin’ not right with Beth. Even before she brought Pippa to see me. I knew there was another shoe to drop but wasn’t expectin’ her to actually sell our daughter to get even with me.”

“Look. I got in touch with you as a favor to her. I can see I made an error in judgment.” Yeah, Wild Bill could see how pissed I was. “I’ll deliver your message to the bitch and go one better. I’ll give you a heads-up before she does anythin’ else to piss you off.”

“Now, why would you do that, Wild Bill?” I drawled out the question as I leaned against the bar and took a sip of my coffee. Wild Bill had met me just outside the Kiss of Death compound in Nashville. The area we’d purchased and walled off sat in the industrial outskirts of the city, but there were still a couple bars and a strip club in the area, which is where we were currently. Little club called Afternoon Delytes. The music was loud, the girls had big tits, and the alcohol wasn’t watered down. A good place for an enemy to be distracted if he wasn’t cautious. Which was why I liked to meet here with men I didn’t fully trust.

“I know you think I’m amoral, but I do have a code, Knuckles. A line I won’t cross. If what you told me is true -- and your reputation says you know your shit before you speak -- that bitch obliterated my line. I ain’t above pimpin’ out girls willin’ to split the profits, but I don’t force women. For any reason. And I absolutely do not traffic. Beth broke both those hard and fast rules for me. I agreed to this in good faith with her mostly because I respect you. If it were my daughter, I’d kill anyone who knew what was goin’ on and didn’t tell me. But, honest to God, I thought Beth had the girl. Maybe in a gilded cage, or maybe it was an empty threat to you and there was no danger to your daughter at all.”

“I could be lying.”

Wild Bill shook his head. “Nope. That’s not your style. You’ve always given it to me straight. Whether or not it’s what I wanted to hear.” I had to admit, the man might have gone up a little in my estimation. I’d still verify any information he shared with me before acting on it. It might not tell the tale, but I’d be able to better see if Wild Bill subscribed to the honor among thieves mentality, or if it was every man for himself.

“You know where Beth is?” Even if he was lying, I wanted any information he doled out. If it was bogus, I’d act accordingly. Which would not end well for Wild Bill.

“Yep.” He took out an envelope. “I’ve had a guy on her for a couple months. She’s at the same place she’s always been at. Way too rich for a nurse’s salary.” He handed me the envelope and I took it.

I stared at him a long time. Wild Bill held my gaze without flinching. “Few men surprise me, so I’m going to give you this one time to tell me your agenda. I won’t consider you an enemy and I’ll respect your territory, but only if you come clean now.”

“No agenda, Knuckles. No repayment expected. No favors later. This is because I agreed to help your ex without investigatin’ beyond the surface. Knowin’ the girl was her daughter? Yeah. Wasn’t expectin’ her to hurt her own kid.” He shook his head like he knew he’d fucked up royally. “I don’t question things beyond the job because the job speaks for itself, but with somethin’ like this, I should have dug a little deeper. Ain’t too proud to admit when I’m wrong.” The corner of his lips curled up in a self-deprecating smile. “I’d also prefer it if you didn’t see this as a betrayal of the fragile alliance we have.”

“OK, now that I believe.” I took a sip of coffee, never taking my eyes from Wild Bill.

“How’d you get out of a life sentence anyway?” Wild Bill took a healthy pull of his beer before signaling the bartender for another.

“Friends in high places.” I continued to study the other man. “I’d’ve been out years ago except I had to help a guy out.”

Wild Bill snorted. “Right. You went in on a triple murder the way I heard it. That ain’t somethin’ you get out of that easy.”

“I did confess to a triple murder. Yes.” The smile I gave him wasn’t genuine.

Wild Bill looked like he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe me. “Must have been some long, hard dick you sucked to get out of that kind of rap.”

“All you need to know is it’s none of your Goddamned business.” This was getting tiresome. “You can spread the word to anyone you want to live that I’m back.”

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts (which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

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Blood and Secrets by Serenity Wylde #fantasy #romance

 

Dark Fantasy Romance

Date Published: March 10, 2025

 

 

☠️ Dark magic. Deadly secrets. And a supernatural academy where everyone wants me dead. ☠️

One moment, I’m human. The next, I wake up in Nightveil Academy—a school for vampires, werewolves, and dark fae.

They say I belong here. That I’m a vampire hybrid. But I don’t trust them.

My memories are shattered. My past is a lie.

And someone at this Academy wants me dead.

💔 The Boys of Nightveil Want to Claim Me.

 

    Lucien—the vampire heir who says we were bonded in another life.

    Kai—the werewolf outcast who warns me to run before it’s too late.

    Riven—the fae prince who’s always watching… always waiting… but never revealing his true intentions.

 

I don’t know who to trust.

I don’t even know who I am.

But when the blood moon rises, and my forbidden power awakens, one thing is certain—

Nightveil Academy will never be the same.

🔥 A dark fantasy romance with enemies-to-lovers tension, supernatural mystery, and a love triangle that will leave you breathless. Perfect for fans of Zodiac Academy, Crave, and Shadowhunters.

About the Author

Serenity Wylde weaves enchanting tales of monster love and magic, captivating readers with fantastical realms where romance blossoms amidst mythical creatures and extraordinary adventures. Follow Serenity on Amazon and never miss a new release!

 

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