Archive for December, 2008

I’m wishing everyone a Happy, Prosperous, Joyous New Year, filled with Love, Laughter and Happiness!

Hugs all around,

Selena

Dear Readers — Happy holidays!

It’s hard to believe that almost a year has passed since I loaded everything I owned into a UHAUL and moved from Texas to New York. Leaving Texas behind left me replaying in my head all the things I was going to miss about my home state. After a few months in New York, while I have found new things to love, I miss much about Texas, most especially red-hot cowboys. Love them cowboys. Everything about them; those snug jeans that hug their muscular thighs, the hats that tilt back in just the right way, somehow complimenting cocky attitudes that say they know all the right moves at all the right times. Oh yeah. Love those cowboys. And you know, one thing about a cowboy — a real rough and tough cowboy, is they almost always guaranteed to be a wild ride. And if there is anyone who fits that bill, a cowboy that knows the meaning of ‘wild ride’, it’s Constantine Vega, my hero from Lone Star Surrender. He is most definitely a wild ride – a long, hot, wild ride. He’s dangerous. He’s daring. He’s oh so sexy.

So buckle up and enjoy a little taste of Constantine in the following excerpt – I know I did while writing Lone Star Surrender.

Harlequin Blaze (January 1, 2009)
ISBN-10: 0373794460
ISBN-13: 978-0373794461

Pre-Order at: Amazon.com | Borders

He would break every rule she made…

Undercover agent Constantine Vega sacrificed three years of his life building up the case of a sinister drug lord. But only days before the trial threats against his life finds Constantine on the run with tantalizing federal prosecutor, Nicole Ward – a desperate journey promising both sin and sensation…

Nicole has been trying her best to follow the rules…rules that she once broke with disastrous results. But the magnetic and passionate force of Constantine Vega threatens to unleash every tempestuous feeling inside her. With so much at stake, can she trust Constantine with her body – and her life?

Excerpt: (unedited version) This scene is in a cave – the bad guys are chasing them – my heroine is claustrophobic so the hero has to creatively find ways to comfort her:

Their eyes locked and sexual tension spiked as if it had been shot into the room with a cannon. Silence fell between them, heavy with the sudden charge. Constantine was studying her with such intensity she felt as if he could see her soul, unveil what secrets her file hadn’t already revealed. Wordlessly, he inched closer.

Instantly, Nicole’s heart began to race, anticipating his touch, his nearness. He reached for one of her boots as if he meant to take it off. But that set off one of her phobia alarms, dousing the sexual heat of seconds before. How did he expect her to get out of this place without her boots? Nicole jerked her feet toward her, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you some relief. You know your feet are killing you.”

“I can’t run in bare feet.” Running in boots with the heels cut off was bad enough.

“You won’t be running anytime soon,” he informed her. “We have six hours until we leave. You might as well get some rest and dry off.”

Her throat went dry. “Six hours? In this cave?” She shook her head. All her efforts at relaxing flew to the wayside. “No. I can’t. I . . .I can’t be in this hole that long.” Constantine’s expression softened. “Don’t look at me like that. I am fine. I just can’t stay here that long.”

He reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. “You can.” Somehow he was closer now. His knees touched hers, a small comfort in a small space. “I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need your help. Just give me some space to process all of this.” Reacting to small spaces often induced a feeling of suffocation. Crowding her would only make it worse.

But he didn’t back off. His fingers slid around one of her calves and inched her pant leg upward; his callused fingers brushed just below her knee. Tiny darts of electricity shot straight to her core.  And considering her current state of anxiety, that shouldn’t be possible, but yet, he was proving it was. Maybe she didn’t need space. Maybe she needed him. It seemed sex distracted her from her fear and she really wanted to be distracted right now. She focused on the sizzling sensations he was creating in her, focused on his face so she wouldn’t look at the enclosure of the walls. His gaze swept her mouth, lingering before lifting. “I’m not sure I’m capable of giving you space right now,” he said. “I want you too badly, Nicole.”

She swallowed at the directness of his words, finding herself lost in those chocolate-colored eyes of his, mesmerized. Desire pooled in her limbs, driving away the fear once again.

Slowly Constantine began to inch the zipper on her boot downward, his fingers trailing her bare skin in its wake. Nicole suppressed a shiver, not willing to let him see how easily he affected her. Good Lord, the man made taking a boot off sexy.

“I didn’t want to leave you that first night,” he murmured.

The unexpected comment drew a hint of anger from her. Instinctively, she reached forward and covered his hand with hers, stilling his action. In the process, their lips drew dangerously close. After hours in the woods, he shouldn’t smell  good but he did. Spicy and male.

“But you did leave, didn’t you?” she challenged thinking of how he’d snuck under her guard and then left her sitting at that table, feeling a fool. It stung and the memory stiffened her spine.

“If I had stayed, I would have taken you up to a hotel room and made love to you in as many ways as you would have let me.” His fingers slid around her other calf, and she couldn’t find the will to stop him. “But then, morning would have come, and you would have hated me.”

“I should hate you,” she whispered, torn between her desires to embrace her attraction to this man and her desire to run to know this man and her fear of what doing so might mean, her fear he might wake a part of her that needed to stay dormant. “What you did was wrong.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth and then lifted. “Do you?” he asked. “Do you hate me, Nicole?”

Her chin lifted slightly. If he thought lust and admiration, or even like, were the same, he was wrong. Her ex had taught her well–sex could be just sex. “I haven’t decided yet.”

His mouth quirked ever so slightly. “Good. Then I still have a chance to affect the decision.”

Leaning into her, Constantine brushed his lips over hers in a seductive caress that left her wanting more. “Anger can be a powerful aphrodisiac,” he murmured softly. “Perhaps you can think of some ways to even the score.”

Hi everyone!

Wishing everyone belated Happy Holiday greetings. I’d like to thank Sierra Dafoe for give the website a quick fix when things went wonky and I’d like to give a Big Hug and Huge Mug of coffee to Renee George for fixing the website. *Grin*

If you’ve been looking around the website, you’ll notice the series page has changed as well as the book pages for the series (please tell me that made sense). A Huge Chocy Thank You to Maura Anderson for introducing me to the power of tables. LOL. I’ve also connected the reviews page to the individual book pages to make things neater. I’ll be changeing a lot of things and adding a few things. I’ve started an update group for people who just want updats and no chatter. I usually post appearances and contract news. I’m working with the fabulous Renee George (she has a new book out, Pole Snake, Out Now at Changeling Press) on something that may tun into a newsletter. *Grin* Okay, here’s some news:

Contract:

My Paranormal Ghost Story Lonely No More has been contracted by Liquid Silver Books.

Loose-Id has contracted my book Blood Claim: Prelude. *Grin*

Reviews:

Here are two new reviews:

Wild on Books:

http://www.wildonbooks.com/reviews/2008/yosha/selena_illyria_mudslide.htm

Ecataromance:

http://sensual.ecataromance.com/index.php?p=1241

I have some to post for the Firestorm Anthology. I’ll put those up soon. *grin*

Awards:

*Big Grin* I have been nominated for a CAPA (Cupid and Psyche award) in the category of Erotic Paranormal Romance

A Capa is, as defined by The Romance Studio: “What are the CAPA’s? They are awards given by The Romance Studio for excellence in romantic and erotic fiction.”

I’m also pleased to annouce The Firestorm Anthology has also been nominated for a CAPA. *Grin* I am so excited.

Out Now:

At Drogan’s Command

Blurb:
One little disc…

One little disc contains the only evidence of Rena’s wanton weekend where she enacted every sexual fantasies she’s ever had, including a few about her crush Drogan Carter, Captain of the Hades’ Helmet. What will she do when the disc falls into the wrong hands?

When Drogan finds the disc and watches the contents, at first he feels guilt but soon that turns to need. He wants the carefree, sexual woman on the disc in his bed. He forms a plan that will get her right where he wants her… at his command.

Buy Link:

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1034

Excerpt Link:

http://www.changelingpress.com/content.php?utype=note&uid=3248

*

Runaway:

Blurb:
The year is 2150. Overpopulation, extreme weather and short supplies of food and water have forced Earth’s Children to reach for the stars and find a new home. But their new home has started to change a small percentage of its new inhabitants, turning them into psychics.

The New Earth Genesis Clinic has tried to study this phenomenon, but due to a massive breakout their test subjects have been scattered to the wind. One such test subject is Hayley Michaels, trying to stay under the radar as an assistant to private investigator Devlin Virgil.

Things become complicated when Hayley is exposed as a psychic, something Devlin loathes. Will Devlin overcome past wounds to save Hayley and confront his feelings for her? Or will he leave her at the mercy of the labs, tests and researchers?

Buy Link:
http://allromanceebooks.com/product-runaway-13462-168.html

Love’s Immortal Pantheon: Pluto’s Offering:

Blurb:
Iriana is thrust into the future where she is branded as a witch and offered up as a sacrifice to the Roman, God, Pluto. She doesn’t expect to lust after him.

Pluto leads a lonely existence. When Iriana comes into his world his life changes. He finds himself wanting to experience the outside world he shunned and try new things. The only problem, he knows he must send her back to her own time.

Is he be willing to say good-bye to the woman that has touched his heart?

Buy Link:

http://allromanceebooks.com/product-lovesimmortalpantheonplutosoffering-13465-168.html

*

Trapped

Blurb:

Kit has never forgotten the cruel way Rysen rejected her as a possible consort over a hundred years ago. She’s striven to get stronger, pushing her attraction to him down and using her anger as fuel.

Rysen has always regretted the way he rejected Kit. As much as he loved her, Rysen despised the way her clan tried to use her as a political gambit for power and protection. But he never stopped wanting Kit, trying to make her his in every way possible.

When enemies attack, they use old magic to seal themselves off and stay safe. But now they find themselves trapped with a century of hunger rising between them….

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, domination.

Buy Link:

http://www.loose-id.com/detail.aspx?ID=853

Excerpt Link:

http://www.loose-id.com/SIBCTrex.aspx

Well that’s all the news I have and updates. I should be adding a few dates on the Appearances page and I’m planning on a new contest for the New Year. *Grin* Okay, gotta go. I’m working on White Russian for AMP and Justice Unbound (Vampiropolis 4) for Changeling Press. Hugs all around Everyone!

Selena

Trapped
Blood Claim Series
Blurb:
Kit has never forgotten the cruel way Rysen rejected her as a possible consort over a hundred years ago. She’s striven to get stronger, pushing her attraction to him down and using her anger as fuel.

Rysen has always regretted the way he rejected Kit. As much as he loved her, Rysen despised the way her clan tried to use her as a political gambit for power and protection. But he never stopped wanting Kit, trying to make her his in every way possible.

When enemies attack, they use old magic to seal themselves off and stay safe. But now they find themselves trapped with a century of hunger rising between them….

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, domination.

Buy Link:
http://www.loose-id.com/detail.aspx?ID=853

Excerpt:

Rysen ignored the throbbing of his cock. As much as he wanted to fuck her right now, he couldn’t. She was unconscious and she was hurt. When he got her in his bed, she was going to be awake and strong and enjoying every last bit of it.

His gaze roamed over her bruised and battered face. “Gods, she is beautiful,” he murmured. He leaned down, scooped her up in his arms, and held her close. He took in her mocha skin, some patches darker with bruises. One eye was swollen shut. He regretted every mark, every bruise, every injury he had inflicted on her, but words did not work with her. Ever since he had passed her over a hundred years ago, when her clan had offered her to him as one of his consorts, she’d loathed him, and she’d taken up her clan’s fight to avenge his insult against them.

He had wanted her — by the gods, he had wanted her — but he had always felt she was just too fine to bring into his world. She deserved better than to be a political sacrifice. His body shuddered at the very thought of her in his bed, arms over her head, tied to the bedposts, her legs spread far apart, her hairless mound glistening with her dew. Her pussy already dripping, ready for him to fuck her hard, fast, and deep. He wanted the image in his head so badly, and yet he knew if he even tried to make a move, she’d either kill him or die trying. He was tired of fighting her. He wanted to tie her to his bed, blindfold her, and show her the delights that could be had if she would only let him dominate her.

Carrying her up the stairs, he held her body close, cradling her like a precious relic. He made his way to the second floor. Out of all the women he’d ever encountered, she inflamed him like no one else. Her oval face, with her large, liquid brown eyes flecked with red, haunted him. Her full lips beckoned him. The graceful column of her neck invited him to sink his teeth into her jugular and drink deep of her life essence. He wanted to cup her small, high breasts and watch his hands travel along the curves of her sides, over her hips, down her thighs, caress her calves, and massage her feet. He wanted to rub his scent into her skin so that all would know she belonged to him and only him. There would be no others if she agreed to be his consort.

He could smell the odious poison in her blood. The wound on her palm was still open, blood slowly dripping from the cut. He would have to drain most of her blood and give her some of his. She would hate him for that.

Giving her his blood would allow him to track her wherever she went, to invade her thoughts and dreams, sense her moods, even from thousands of miles away. He would know if she were with someone else, he could even see through her eyes and take control of her body. He was the third chieftain of the Vampyre nation. He was the third most powerful vampyre in existence, his clan the third largest, and he was also third in line to ascend to the throne of the Vampyre monarchy. All he needed was a queen.

He made his way through a hallway and couldn’t understand why she’d bought this horrid place. It had no class, no sophistication. It was out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, the nearest town five miles away.

“How in the hell is help supposed to get here in case of an emergency?” he asked the sleeping figure in his arms. “And it’s not even pretty land. For the love of the gods, the garden is overrun with weeds. The lake is a cesspool, and I have yet to see one animal around here. My darling, you should have taken my offer to make you a queen. Then you could’ve had all the beautiful land you could want.”

Even in sleep she defied him. As if on its own, her hand rose and tried to hit him.

He chuckled. “I shall call it a pet project for you, then. A hobby. But this should not be your life. You’re too talented to waste your gifts on this place.”

She tried to hit him again. He wanted to take hold of her hand and kiss the back of it, brush his lips against the pulse point and feel her heart beat. He looked up and saw he was only a few feet away from the bedroom he sought, the largest one at the end of the hallway. He could feel the rival vampyres outside, walking around, plotting their next move. Once he saw to her comfort and recovery, he would go outside and destroy them.

“How dare they interrupt our fight,” he growled. “As soon as I know who they are, they will be dealt with.”

If he had won, she would have been forced to concede to him, and therefore her fate would be in his hands. As much as he hadn’t wanted it to come down to that, he would have preferred it to the suicide mission she seemed to be on when she decided it was in her best interest to fight him.

“So stubborn is my darling,” he murmured softly. He loved her for that. He loved everything about her.
He kicked open the door and looked around. He was relieved to see that the room was in good condition. The furniture was of good quality, no dust or broken items. A large bed, piled high with pillows and bed coverings, stood against a far wall, the headboard a wrought-iron monstrosity whose top nearly hit the ceiling.

“This will do for now. You, my darling, deserve so much more.” His cock throbbed at the thought of laying her down in the silks, satins, furs, and velvets of his own massive bed. He shook his head. He wouldn’t feed his sexual desire now, not yet anyway. He refused to leave her while some unknown threat waited outside, prowling around looking for a weakness in Blyder’s protection spells.

“They won’t find them,” Rysen murmured as he arranged her on the bed and pulled off her boots. He paused, wondering if he should undress her to see how extensive the damage was. Making up his mind, he gently took off her tank top. Next, he removed her jeans and then her underwear.
Once she was naked, he catalogued all that he saw. Though his body reacted to the sight of her, his mind worked overtime to keep his lust at bay. He could see the bruises and wounds slowly starting to heal or disappear, but not fast enough. He took hold of her wrist and held it, palm up. Her self-inflicted wound had not disappeared.

She was too weak. Her immune system wouldn’t be able to defend itself until she had fully recovered. The poison was working much too well.

Swearing, he placed her arm gently on the bed and shrugged out of his black leather duster. Kneeling, he took hold of her arm and brought it to his mouth. His tongue lapped at the spot he would bite into, preparing it to stave off infection.

His canines extended. His body began to heat, and his cock grew harder. He kissed her pulse point before biting down, and his back arched as her blood hit his tongue. The sweet, salty, metallic flavor caused his taste buds to explode with pleasure. His eyes drifted closed while her life filled his mouth like sweet, hot lava. The faint bitterness of the poison did not dampen his pleasure; it was nothing to one of his strength. He drank of her, careful not to drink too much.

A soft moan drew his attention. He saw her back arch, her breasts thrust into the air. The scent of her desire filled his nostrils, and he moaned in response. Blood slipped from his mouth, coating his chin, dripping down to stain his shirt.

“Easy, darling. Be at peace. I’m going to take the poison from you,” he whispered with his mind.
“I’m dying,” she responded.

“No. I won’t allow it. You will not meet the Great Maker now or ever, if I have my way. Relax, my darling. Let me take care of you.”

“No…”

“Do it,” he growled out.

He felt her resist before he reached out with his power. Like a whip cutting through the air, his power flicked out into the space between them; like rope, he wrapped his will around her, pressing her down to the mattress. Her body flinched before relaxing back onto the bed. Once he was sure he had taken enough of her blood, he reluctantly released her wrist and lapped at the wound. Once the puncture marks were closed, he bit down into his own wrist.

He gazed upon her naked body, which looked cold and waxy, almost deathlike. He shuddered. He’d become a vampyre so he wouldn’t have to lose anyone else he loved. Seeing her like this reinforced how much he loved her. His wound welled, blood dripping down onto the worn bedspread. He reached out and pried her lips apart.

“Don’t fight me, darling. Drink of me.”

He placed his wrist at her mouth and watched her react. Reaching up, she took hold of his arm, holding it in a vise grip, her lips pressed to his flesh. Her tongue darted out and lapped at his wounds, causing pinpricks of fire to dance up his arm, inflaming his arousal. Her mouth latched onto his wrist, and each pull of her lips felt like a caress on his cock.

Rysen’s shaft throbbed in time with each tug. He reached down and, with one hand, ripped open the button of his jeans, pulled down the tab, and slipped his hand into his pants. Taking hold of his dick, he began to stroke his hardened rod, eyes now closed, head tilted back. He rose on his knees and, with a bit of awkwardness, tugged his pants down until his cock was fully freed. He wrapped his fist around his shaft and started to pump, up and down, in a grip that would cause tears to form in most men’s eyes. The pain and pleasure cascaded through his body. Warm waves ebbed and flowed through his veins as his hips moved back and forth. He fucked his hand as if he were inside her.
“Rysen,” she moaned, her voice echoing softly in his mind. He grunted in response.

“My love,” he answered. He did not care that he had just admitted his feelings for her or what she would think of them. He paused briefly, remembering the moment that had brought them to this place. The point where he had become her enemy a hundred years ago.

It started out so normally. Stella needed my book info for Runaway and Pluto’s Offering. The book info went up. I thought nothing of it. Then it hit me, holy crap! I have four books coming out in one month. I went into shock mode. So this month I have:

At Drogan’s Command out now at Changeling Press

Runaway releasing Monday with Tease.

Pluto’s Offering releasing Monday with Tease

Trapped with Loose-Id on the 23rd

OMG! How did this happen? I still have to do an Encounter for Changeling and a short for Mary and a blog entry for Jess (I didn’t forget, I swear.). Ahhhhhhh! I also have to finish up White Russian for Nik, Justice Unbound for Vampiropolis and Tigris Exposed for Hades’ Helmet Crew. I have several updates to give you guys including reviews and contract news. Right now my brain is mush, so instead I’ll pimp my friend Lex Valentine’s Free story up at Pink Petal Books.

http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/bookstore/product_info.php?products_id=963

and the two new stories that are up over at Pink Chair Diaries, one by the fabu Tilly Greene (Big Squishy Hugs) and the other by the wonderful Winterheart.

http://pinkchairdiaries.com/2008/12/10/special-delivery/

http://pinkchairdiaries.com/2008/12/12/cougar-christmas/

I’m trying to talk Cynnara to do a BDSM week on the blog and I have to do an Australian week. *Grin*

Okay, gotta go. Hugs all around.

Selena

P.S. Don’t forget to enter the 15 Naughty Nights of Christmas over at Bitten By Books. *Grin* There are some awesome prizes being given out.

Reality Need Not Apply

By: Sophia Titheniel

Fiction, in every form, can be both a mean to escape reality, to find something thrilling and exotic, or a mean to analyze reality, study it, uncover as many layers as you can to try and better comprehend the times you’re living in. Sometimes it does both, and sometimes neither. Having started as a fandom author, I couldn’t help but notice in the feedback I was given, and in the wonderful stories I’ve came across, a very definite craving for a particular flavor of original fiction.

E-published M/M fiction — erotica, mostly, but not only — seems to differ by mainstream, printed published fiction’s standards by quite a lot. For instance, mainstream LGTB publications usually rotate around a gritty, dark day-to-day reality that, while appreciated and surely needed in an effort to make people think, it’s often not about a gay romance (with or without smut), and more frequently than not it lacks the proverbial happy ending. Which is the reason why so many are drawn to e-books, erotica or romance, that can provide them what they are looking for – a love story between two people of the same sex, without the proverbial coming out angst, leaving room for the actual conflicts and consequential plot twists to be as many and various as in any M/F story.

Which brings up another question – which is why exactly M/M or ‘slash’ fiction is so popular in the world of internet publications. What does make it tick? I for one don’t think there’s a clear answer to that. The map of the reading population is too vast for even trying to give the one million dollar question a possible correct answer. But I personally believe that there are numerous factors that could, at least, explain why it’s so appealing to so many different readers.

The lack of angst and conflict about coming out, for example, or generally being gay, is prominent in e-publications and internet queer literature, which is one of the key of it success. Escape from reality, one of the bases of fiction — gays live in that reality everyday, and they don’t need to read about it. They know it all already. Smut and romance fiction provides a world where if you are a man, and you happen to fall in love with another man, what matters most is what he’s going to think of your old, batty sneakers, if he really likes hockey or if he’s just laughing at you, rather than with you. The world as it could, as it should be.

Women, gay or bi or straight, that crave M/M smut and romance are drawn to the dynamics of the couple, not only to the (very hot) concept of them rolling in the hay doing the nasty. The possibility of choosing which character you feel more attracted to, if you want to get lost in the moment or savor a voyeuristic kind of pleasure, is only enhanced by the fact that the couple is composed by two men. There’s no ‘instinctive identification’ to the heroine, you delve into the story and put yourself up for a rollercoaster as though you’re both living it, and outside, looking in.

There’s also a very basic, sensual quality to two rugged, beautiful men ‘getting it on’, wonderful euphemism for ‘fucking their brains out’. The absolute equality of the partners, which is not only mental (that could work for any well-structured fiction, not only M/M) but physical, as well, gives the reader just about every possible choice they might want. Bottom, top, both, toys, bondage, anything is game, and the tables can turn at any given moment. Keeps you wanting, keeps you on edge and needing more.

The “double the fun” quality is, of course, very much present – much like for men the thought of two women and a shower is foolproof Viagra – but it’s not, and it shouldn’t be considered as all there is to these literary work. M/M fiction enables you to enjoy the full ride (pun not intended) of a gay, romantic relationship, with a 99% assured happy, or at least upbeat, ending. Even if to get there the hero has to fight against otherworldly creatures, day-to-day evils and his partner’s inability to learn how to squeeze the toothpaste tub from down up, not in the middle. Just like any ordinary couple in a non-ordinary, but wistful world.

The Pony Express Rides Again… On a motorbike.

Lachlan enjoys living on the edge, and in a war-torn land rife with savagery, life as a Pony Express Rider puts good cash in his pockets and, on occasion, a roof over his head. Any roof will do. Doesn’t have to be his.

Until his path clashes with Adair’s. At the Chlodwig, a ramshackle pub renown for its dance fights and high stakes betting, Lachlan and Adair’s heated argument turns into something far more raw and powerful — something neither of them is prepared for. Something Lachlan’s not sure he can recover from. This time, he’s met his match.

But beyond the cover of the dance fights, Adair belongs to a group of scavengers, thieves who make Pony Express Riders their intended targets. Is Lachlan prepared to risk his loyalty, his job, and everything he thinks he’s earned — for a werewolf?

Buy Link:

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1052

Dance Wars: Left Side of the Moon
Sophia Titheniel
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008 Sophia Titheniel
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

The barroom’s nothing short of dismal inside, dirty and dank, but there’s a fire crackling beneath a wide, finely carved marble fireplace. Lachlan wonders where it came from. Maybe the Pentagon? It was rumored to be on this side of town.

His skin tingles at the abrupt but welcome change in temperature. The few people scattered about are playing rounds of cards or nursing their own drinks, each of them indifferent to the new arrival, and that suits Lachlan just fine. He takes off his jacket, throwing it on an empty stool in front of the bar, and raps the wooden surface with his knuckles. “D’ya have any JD?”

The barman, a carbon copy of every other barman Lachlan’s met on his roaming around the country, looks at him from underneath a bushy eyebrow and plucks the cigar out of his mouth to speak. “Money up front.”

Lachlan slips a hand underneath his jacket, plucks two bills out of the elastic band that keeps his savings together and hands them to the barman. The man eyes him up and down with a slight sneer, then limps off and disappears behind a curtain half-hidden by darkness and dust.

Must be where he keeps his stock. Lachlan twiddles his fingers and huffs out a sigh. He’d swear he can hear his frozen, tired limbs purring with contentedness at the newfound warmth. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s at the pit of the known world and to stay safe he needs to keep moving, he’d curl up and sleep for twelve hours straight.

“Downstairs.”

The barman reappears to deliver that message, popping up practically out of thin air. The unexpected swift movement makes the hair at the back of Lachlan’s neck stand up in discomfort. He nods and grabs the brass token the man’s handed to him, picking up his jacket and walking in the direction the bartender indicates.

The rickety staircase, illuminated only by naked light bulbs set around the railings, looks dangerous, so Lachlan’s cautious as he descends. As he approaches the bottom of the stairs, he hears the faint thump, thump, thump of music filtering from the latched door. He pulls at the hook screwed in the center that serves as a knob, and blanches at the deafening volume he’s met with the second the door opens.

He sets off, eyes peeled, his fingers curled around the handle of his knife. A guy can never be too careful. Pubs and clubs in the cities are a bit of a sanctuary for all those creatures who couldn’t disguise themselves in the “human” world. The clientele in the basement, though, looks exactly the same as the one you would see in any regular bar in the country, and for an instant Lachlan feels a bit let down. With a setup like that, he was at least expecting a couple of vampires.

A woman with a red corset saunters over, draping herself over his back. Lachlan goes rigid, his hand tightening around his knife. “Not interested,” he says calmly, the pocket where he’s hidden his money burning.

“You here for the fights, sugar?”

The fights? “That’s right.” He grabs her wandering hand and pushes her away, none too gently. “And I’m not interested.”

The music’s even louder now that he’s fully in the room. An opening lies before him, between the tables, right in front of the bar. People are pushing at each other for the best viewing spots, some of them exchanging money and talking excitedly among themselves. Lachlan frowns, the brass coin heavy in his palm. For fuck’s sake, he just wants a bottle of whiskey already.

Instead of making a fuss about it, he takes a seat in front of the bar, craning his neck to try and locate the person he has to hand the coin to. The sooner he leaves, the better. If he makes good time, the Dulles station is twenty-five miles west, and a good night of sleep sounds just about fantastic right now.

The barman walks up to him, taking a dour glance at Lachlan’s coin. Either he’s an identical twin of the barman upstairs, or he’s a clone, or maybe all barmen look the same — Lachlan doesn’t care. It’s even warmer here. A slight sweat’s starting to bead on the nape of his neck, and his long hair is sticking to his skin. He rubs his hand over his neck as if to displace an irksome fly. Turning to toss the hair off his shoulder, he stops abruptly when he finds himself looking across the bar into the brightest gray eyes he’s ever seen. They look like molten silver, like shards of moonlight around large, black pupils.

Lachlan blinks and leans across the bar for a better look. The guy’s still staring, unmoving, as if he’s waiting for something or someone, and Lachlan fights the urge to turn his head and see if he’s looking at anyone else beside him.

“Here,” the barman grunts, the bottle landing in front of Lachlan with a heavy thunk. Lachlan feels like crying in relief. He grabs at the neck of the bottle and tips it back, taking a long, blissfully scorching hot sip. It burns in his throat and in his empty stomach, but he doesn’t mind. Limbs that he hadn’t quite thought were still connected to his body waken, making him feel more alive than he’s been in quite a few hours. Bless you, whiskey.

He fills his flask, finishing in a single gulp the glassful left over, and, handing the empty bottle back to the barman, decides it’s time to head back out on the road. If nothing happens, he’ll manage to be at the station in less than an hour.

“Want to take a chance there?”

Lachlan looks down at a bucketful of dollar bills held by some clown who’s up in his face and frowns. “Take a chance on what?”

“Leave it, Riff.”

A shiver runs down Lachlan’s back. He knows who the voice belongs to even before he raises his eyes to meet the man’s compelling, liquid gray ones. “He’s one of them bikers,” the man says like it’s an insult.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1052

Sophia Titheniel Bio:

Shy, bashful Sophia Titheniel — NOT! She’s part elf, part video editor, part photographer. She likes her men feisty, snarky, and getting it on with one another!
Originally from Italy, Sophia’s now hopping the Atlantic to land in Vancouver, Canada, and looking forward to giving her professors a heart attack with her M/M projects.

Obsessed with caffeine, M&Ms (pun very much intended) and with everything supernatural, she’s known to carry her laptop to the most improbable locations (those include, but are not limited to, beach, bathroom, train, and day-job) to be able to finish whatever she’s writing at the moment.

Spirit Boys, her ongoing free serial, makes its home at http://titheniel.livejournal.com. Want to harass her to hurry things up? Drop her a note at titheniel01@yahoo.com — Sophia would like to add she takes full responsibility for any thigh-clench and change of panties that might occur! Enjoy…

At Drogan’s Command, Out Now at Changeling Press, Use Coupon Code DROGAN01 to get 5% off of your order at checkout.

Blurb:

One little disc . . .

One little disc contains the only evidence of Rena’s wanton weekend where she enacted every sexual fantasies she’s ever had and a few about her crush Drogan Carter, Captain of the Hades’ Helmet. What will she do when the disc falls into the wrong hands?

When Drogan finds the disc and watches the contents, at first he feels guilt but soon that turns to need. He wants the carefree, sexual woman on the disc and in his bed. He forms a plan that will get her right where he wants her . . . at his command.

Buy Link:

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1034

Excerpt:
At Drogan’s Command
Selena Illyria
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008 Selena Illyria

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

The captain came toward her, his expression softened. “Please don’t make me interrogate you. Please don’t push me to do this,” he pleaded in a deep baritone, edged with gruffness.

She shook her head. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. Every nerve in her body was alive and on fire.

“Release her. I’ll be questioning her alone.”

The other robots let her go and left the cell. The door slid closed with a soft whoosh. The captain started to undress, unbuckling his weapons belt. He placed the strap gently on a nearby table. He then stripped to the waist. He grabbed a chair and placed it before her and pointed to it.

“Undress and sit down,” he ordered in a deep gruff baritone. With shaking hands she began to undress, her clothing hitting the floor. She moved to the chair, sat down and crossed her legs. The robot walked around her slowly, then bent down and placed his hands on the back of her chair, leaning in close.

“If you won’t cooperate, I will have to make you do what I say.” His voice was a low, husky whisper. “Now, uncross your legs and spread them. I want to see your sweet pussy. I can smell your desire. I know you want this, you want me. You can’t deny it.”

She uncrossed her legs slowly and then spread them, waiting for his next command. He pulled back. The tips of his fingers brushed her cheeks before he straightened to his full height.

He finished undressing. His thick cock sprang up, the head an angry purplish red color. She missed seeing the pearlescent drop of desire at the slit. Although his cock looked lifelike enough, she wanted the real thing. She gave herself a mental shake, imagining it was Drogan before her and not an android programmed for her pleasure. This was her fantasy, the only way she would ever make her secret dreams and desires come true. Taking a deep breath, she watched as the android walked over to one of the cell’s windows, ripping down one of the curtains that framed the barred façade.

He walked over to her, the delicate shredded opaque cloth trailing behind him, his cock bobbing gently with each step. He walked around her to the back of the chair.

“Bring your hands together until your palms are touching.”

Her heartbeat sped up, hammering against her rib cage as he wrapped the ripped curtain around her wrists, tying them together tightly. She tested her bonds and found she couldn’t get free. He walked into her line of vision. His cock appeared before her face. She blinked, remembering her other fantasies that had been played out. Three men at once, two men in several different positions. She shivered. He came closer until his cock was only mere inches away from her face.

Her mind conjured Drogan before her. If he had been in front of her, she would have kissed the tip of his shaft before she took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the crest. She wanted to taste him, inhale the musky male scent of him. The man before her dropped to his knees. She looked down and watched as he placed his hands on each of her knees, spreading them further apart. Her heart beat out of control. Rena forgot how to breathe. Sweat beaded on her brow as the android between her thighs moved closer to her pussy. Time seemed to still as she waited for his first touch. A jolt of electricity went through her as the tip of his tongue trailed over the seam of her nether lips. She jumped but did not make a sound. He teased her slowly, taking his time as he explored her sex. With his thumbs he pulled back her nether lips, exposing the aching bud. She stilled, waiting for his next move.

“You want this, don’t you? You want me to suck your clit?”

“Yes.” She didn’t care that her voice had come out shaky and breathless.

He gently flicked the nub with just the tip of his tongue. Heat skittered through her body with that all too brief touch.

“Tell me what I need to know and I’ll give you what you need.”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know. Please, just fuck me,” she pleaded.

He flicked her clit again and pulled back. “No.”

“Drogan, please fuck me.” She didn’t even realize her slip until it was too late. She was going off script. She had never specified who the captain was supposed to be. She couldn’t take it back now, wouldn’t take it back. All day long on the ship she saw him and when she closed her eyes, she saw him in her dreams. This was her time to finally live out the fantasies she could never have with him in reality.

She looked down at the android that moved his head back to her pussy.

“No,” flick, “not until you,” lave, “tell me,” lick, “what I want,” swipe, “to hear.”

She let out a frustrated growl, trying to move her hips forward as far as they would go. He pulled his head back and looked up at her.

“Tell me what I want to hear and I’ll fuck you,” he urged.

She shook her head. “I can’t tell you anything. I don’t know.”

“Well, then the interrogation must continue.” He smiled at her. His head moved forward. His tongue continued the small torturous flicks. Electricity bounced around inside of her, each touch stoking the fire burning within her. She wanted to come so badly. She was unraveling, her empty cunt clenched on nothing. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, trying to figure out a way to use his flicks to her advantage. Unfortunately her hands were tied behind her, and she could only lift them so far. She let out a strangled scream and the flicking stopped.

“Will you tell me the truth?” he asked. His dark red eyes seemed darker and a wicked smile curved his full mouth.

“I’ll tell you anything, anything. Just fuck me.”

He chuckled, a dark sound that spoke of untold hidden, wicked, sexy things that awaited her for cooperating. Without saying another word, he buried his head between her thighs, taking her clit between his teeth and sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. She rocked her hips against his mouth, riding his lips. Her orgasm twisted inside of her, coiling tighter and tighter until it broke free like a dam bursting. She screamed Drogan’s name at the top of her lungs.

But it wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

All night the android interrogated her, using his mouth, fingers and cock, bringing her to orgasm over and over again. By morning she was exhausted and confessed to things she had never done all in the name of coming. When she walked out of her fantasy suite, her legs wobbled and her body ached. She made her way to the front desk, waiting for them to check her out.

“I hope you enjoyed your time here. Please do come back any time, Ms. Morrigan.”

She nodded and smiled but doubted she would be coming back. She had lived out every one of her fantasies. There was nothing more to do. The receptionist looked up at Rena. The alien smiled, exposing short, sharp teeth, gazing up at Rena with large blue, pupilless eyes. She slid a small silver disc toward Rena.

“This is the account of your week with us. Payment has gone through. We assure you that we will be erasing your experience with us within twenty-four hours. Please do come back.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1034

Female Fantasies-

What they are and why some need to be reintroduced into the public mind

By-Cynnara Tregarth

When Selena asked me to write a topic for discussion, at the time the group was talking about fantasies. What struck me is often we hear of only a few of the top fantasies about sex that women have. Some have a taboo status placed upon them and today, I plan to rip that status and throw it away. Why? Because as long as sex is consensual and the woman is the one who wants it- then there’s no reason for people to think ill of it. Sex is healthy, sexual fantasy is fantastic. So that said, let’s talk about the top fantasies for women.

1. Threesome with two men- that’s right, the idea of two men pleasuring a woman is a top fantasy. More importantly, if the men are heterosexual, it makes the sex all about her. For women, this fantasy becomes something forbidden because of the love factor. But between consenting adults and following the rules in play, it can be a great sexual fantasy come to life. Why is it a deep fantasy? Most women can’t think of bringing another man into their beds if they have a spouse or significant other. Yet, the idea of being pleasured by two men, having them desire you to please them as they do so to you is completely intoxicating. As someone who has indulged in this fantasy, let me tell you, it’s one that if you have the chance- you should do so- at least once in your life.

2. Threesome with another woman- Believe it or not, this is a popular fantasy. It’s not because a woman’s bisexual, but because she is bi-curious. The idea of two women and a male together is a normal male fantasy, but at the same time, the idea of two women sharing a male, taking turns pleasing him and helping each other along in the process is a great fantasy. What’s more important, most times, the man gets to sit on the sideline watching while the two women pleasure each other first, learning what turns each other and themselves on at the same time. You almost feel for the male, except there’s titillation factor we’ll talk about later.

3. Exhibition- It’s later and here we go. There’s something about being an exhibitionist that is both forbidden but fantastic. It’s the idea of stripping for your lover, showcasing yourself for undivided attention in a sexual manner that turns women and men both on. For most women, they would never consider publicly exposing themselves in such a manner, but in private- it’s a turn on like none other. If you’re a male, encourage your woman to strip for you. Encourage her to lap dance for you, making her feel like a sexy dancer seducing the man she’s chosen for the night. The problem with this is most of us women have self esteem issues and we need encouragement to let out our inner porn star. Once it’s out though, be warned, we might go from the bedroom to the living room. Ladies, take a chance on this fantasy- the rewards are great and the risk, honestly, is minimal when done in the privacy of your own home.

4. Voyeurism- We love to watch hot, raunchy sex. In fact, though we might make noises about porn, we actually enjoy a good portion of it. For women, it’s not just the visual titillation that gets us worked up and ready for a round of hot sex. It’s the idea of watching the seduction, watching the act itself and the emotions showing on the lovers’ faces that gets us wanting some of that goodness for ourselves. This fantasy is way underdone in fiction because many people don’t know how to convey the sexual tension for the woman watching the scene. Many women don’t just watch the scene, but engage in masturbation as well. With the idea of exhibitionism, the idea of watching sex excites us, we are too often told we’re not supposed to be as visual oriented as men are—but oh well, it happens anyway. Bring on the peep shows!

5. Sex with a Stranger- Believe it or not, this is a huge fantasy that seems to have gone out of disfavor of late. Why? I’m not sure, though there is the fear of sexually transmitted diseases and such. In the romantic fiction world, one of the best series done by various authors was the Wrong Bed series by Harlequin. The reason I enjoyed it? It allowed me to enjoy the idea of having sex with a stranger and slowly falling in love with him once I’ve connected with him beyond that one night stand. For most women, it’s the ultimate fantasy- sex with someone we might admire- a rock star, a movie star, an author. The idea is we know of them but we don’t know them. It’s a turn on like none other. Yes, we love having sex with our significant others, but the idea for one night of hot sex with someone we might never see again, it’s the ultimate in uninhibited sex. Seriously- when you know you’re never going to see this person again, you let that wild side out and it can be the most amazing time in your life. I wish more women would take the time to experience this either in person or vicariously through great romance novels. It gets one stimulated and ready to pounce on that person you love as they walk through the doorway.

6. Role-Playing- I lumped this together in one area because there are many variations on a theme in this category of fantasy. From the teacher/student to the boss/secretary, the idea here is to be someone else and have passionate sex with few limitations. Though we know that teacher/student relationships are taboo, the idea here is the fantasy of seducing someone in power. It’s dressing up in the short plaid skirt, the tight white top and pretending to faun over the teacher trying to teach you physics to being the tight-laced boss in form-fitting skirt and jacket and having a male secretary do everything necessary to get you out of that outfit, the fun is in the idea of breaking the rules without really breaking the rules. We love to imagine and pretend we’re someone else. It’s what we do when we read fiction novels. With sexual role-playing, we’re putting that pretend into a semi-reality that leads to sexual fulfillment for both people involved.

7. Being Dominated (Sexual submissive) – Most women fantasize about having a man sweep them off their feet, tell them how to please them, and to pleasure them however the male wants to. We want to submit and not always be the balancer of everything. We want to give in and be told what to do, how to do it, and leave the sexual fulfillment up to someone else to think on. For most women, they perceive this fantasy as being a slave of love, being pleasured and bringing pleasure to their lover. This storyline is very popular currently in erotic romance and for good reason- women love alpha males and how they care for those they love. There’s something about being claimed and possessed that reduces a woman to goo sexually. We admit it—we like being made into sexual goo. Especially when it comes with multiple orgasms.

8. Dominating another (Sexual Dominant) – This fantasy hasn’t received its just due in the erotic romance world. There are damn good authors who write fem-dom romance- Joey Hill, Lena Austin to name two, that make you want to demand your orgasms and tell the lover in your life that they don’t get any release until you get yours. That’s right; we’re talking about female sexual dominants. We have this fantasy in our mind and in our soul. It’s not about taking control everywhere in life- it’s taking control in the bedroom and demanding our orgasms and for the submissive to please us in the ways we determine will be pleasing to both of us. It’s about commanding respect, telling our lover exactly what we want and reinforcing it with strength of character and toys. It’s about bringing pleasure to us and our lover by being the one to direct the action. This means before you get to have your orgasm—we get quite a few of our own. This is one fantasy that needs to be brought back and in force.

9. Rape- This is a taboo fantasy to the umpteenth degree. The weird thing, it’s one of my favourite fantasies and it is so for many other women as well. Why? Why is the idea of having our power and our sex taken from us such a thrill? Because even in our fantasies, it’s still done with mutual consent. It’s a fantasy usually in the form of someone we trust pretending to be a stranger or finally not taking “no” for an answer. It’s the idea of being forced to do those things we find kinky and erotic but are too afraid to initiate them on our own. We’re not condoning true rape, but it’s the concept of it- the idea of having your will taken from you, to have your deepest and darkest sexual desires to be brought out and forced upon you—that’s what makes it a deep abiding fantasy for most women. In fact, what makes it more unique is that it’s something we’d only consider doing with someone we absolutely trusted and no one else. This fantasy is one that has to be written correctly to have the evocative impact that is both emotionally satisfying and sexually arousing—something that many authors fear to try because of the complexity of the issue and its taboo status. For me, this taboo so needs to be broken.

These fantasies are the kinds that women have daily. Some are more prominent in our mindsets than others. Some are hidden away because women aren’t supposed to enjoy it. But we do. It’s why we’re a growing segment in the pornography industry- demanding porn with plot and stories that satisfy our sexual fantasies, not just men’s. Notice that these fantasies can be done in a variety of ways, thus appealing to all women regardless of age, ethnicity, health, or beliefs. These are fantasies that allow us to fulfill our needs as women and to make them taboo because of the excesses of society is just wrong.

I for one would enjoy seeing more stories dealing with fem-dom. I’d love to see a well done story with a controlled, consensual rape fantasy that both titillates and distinguishes itself from true rape. Fantasies are just that—the acting out of things we know can’t be done in real life, but under the guise of “Let’s pretend” and with people we trust and care for- we can indulge in role-play and other fun things that will free us sexually and allow our creativity as a person to grow.

Female fantasies often take second stage behind men’s because our society is male-oriented. That’s slowly changing so that things like sex toys, porn, and more are evolving towards equality between the sexes. It’s important that we also indulge in our fantasies just as much as we allow him to have his. Why? Because it’s a good mental health process and in the long run- it gives us the urge to push further, to do more and to realize we’re worth it. We truly are.

Cynnara Tregarth
www.cynnara.com
www.leagueofamazingwriters.com

Charging Candles
By Mary Caelsto

Whether it’s a jar candle designed to fragrance the room or chosen for a specific ritual purpose, one of the important parts of candle magick is “charging” the candle. Simply put, when a candle is charged it is filled with energy designed for a specific purpose. The energy comes from ourselves and the universe. It’s freely available and anyone, of any faith, can charge a candle. If you’re not comfortable with the thought of rituals or magic you can think of it as a prayer.

The most basic way to charge a candle is to hold it in your hands and think about the purpose you wish the candle to serve. If you’re burning it for healing, for example, then imagine the person getting better and becoming healthy once more. For prosperity, think about you living the live you want, free of worries and stress from money. The important part is to be positive about your goal and to imagine it happening.

If you want to go farther in charging a candle, then there are additional steps that can be taken. Anointing the candle with oils helps to imbue it with the properties of the essential oils. In addition, you can add nuances to the magical meaning of the candle. Adding planetary or zodiac oils to the candle can bring those elements (such as Capricorn for money or Mercury for communication) to your candle magic.

Some people inscribe runes or symbols on the candle. Continuing with the prosperity spell, a simple dollar sign is easy to carve and expresses in concrete terms what the candle magic will be for. Names, numbers, even small pictures can be created with a minimum of effort on the candle.

With the simplest form of candle magic, the candle is dressed (or anointed) with oils, a symbol carved on it, charged with energy and then burned. This ritual can take only a few moments to several days depending on the steps involved and the preferred timing of them.

Of course, when it comes to candle magic, and charging a candle, following the basic steps is good, but the best thing you can do to have a properly charged candle is to choose the correct candle. The size and type of candle doesn’t matter for ritual purposes. Some people prefer jar or container candles. Tapers, mini candles, tea lights, or votives all work well. The two factors in choosing a correct candle are the scent and the color.

When it comes to scent, an unscented candle, ready to be anointed or left “as is” may be your best choice. Otherwise, with the wide variety of scents available choose the one that’s closest to your ritual’s purpose. If working on a prosperity spell you may wish to choose scents that make you feel rich and luxurious. Spells for love naturally call for floral fragrances.

And the color of the candle plays a role too. Green is the color of prosperity. Blues evoke healing, and pinks and reds are for love or passion. While there are plenty of tables out there that talk about the correspondences of various colors, the bottom line is that you’re the one charging the candle and doing the ritual. You get to choose which works best for you and what feels right. The color and the scent of the candle are fully under your control.

In the end, it isn’t the way the candle smells or what kind of wax it’s made out of that creates the magic. It’s you. To charge a candle means putting your will into it and that will helps to form an outcome. The magic is within. The candle is merely a tool. Charging the candle gives it direction. Nothing more and nothing less. Your spell, prayer, ritual, or whatever you wish to call it, really works the magic. However it sure doesn’t hurt to have a full set of tools at your disposal and charging a candle doesn’t take much time or energy. Just a little thought.

WICKED BURN
Publisher: Berkley Sensation
ISBN-10: 0425224376
ISBN-13: 978-0425224373
Genre: Contemporary
Release Date: December 2, 2008
Format: Trade Paperback
Read an Excerpt

Vic Savian knows what he wants when he sees it. And what he wants is his sexy neighbor, Niall Chandler. So when he sees her in the hallway of their building being harassed by an aggressive suitor, Vic makes his move—and finds himself greatly rewarded…

And did she ever let him have it…

Sleeping with her gorgeous neighbor—when she didn’t even know his last name—was the craziest thing Niall’s ever done. Now, she can’t seem to get enough of Vic—or the uninhibited passion he stirs in her. Suddenly, with his help, she’s opening to sensual pleasures she’s never known before. But when Niall’s past comes back to haunt her, will she and Vic let themselves venture beyond the bedroom and explore the possibility of love that’s in their hearts?