Release Blitz: The Devil's Necromancer by Alexa Piper #LGBTQ #darkfantasy @prowlingpiper

 

Title: The Devil's Necromancer

Series: Hellbound 1

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: October 1, 2021

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 154

Genre: Romance, Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranorma, Suspense, Urban Fantasy, Gay, Magical Creatures, Dark Desire, Zombies, Murder Mystery

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Synopsis

Lionel, a necromancer and consultant for the Brunswick Police Department, wants nothing to do with immortals. Specifically, he wants nothing to do with Lucifer, who shows up on his doorstep one day with a ridiculous proposal. Lucifer, also known as the Devil, wants Lionel to be his pretend boyfriend. Except the pretend part is something the Devil doesn’t really seem to care for.

Lucifer has read enough romance novels to know that a good dose of forced proximity might be just the thing to get the stubborn necromancer he desires into his bed. The Devil’s plans are soon complicated when Lionel proves more uncooperative and oblivious to love than Lucifer could ever anticipate.

While the Devil wants to claim Lionel, all Lionel wants is to get away from Lucifer. Meanwhile, magic users are being murdered in the city. Lionel cannot escape the implications of those murders for long, and the case soon takes a different turn. Will Lionel be able to escape the Devil’s thrall, or will the necromancer fall for the immortal seducer?

Publisher’s Note: The Devil’s Necromancer contains scenes involving dubious consent that some readers may find offensive.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Alexa Piper

It was past midnight, and the stars that looked like sprinkles of white chocolate in the velvety dark night sky were overshadowed by the city lights and the waxing moon. I lay on the embankment, North Bridge’s metal frame rising just to my right and further hiding the chocolate sprinkle stars. My feet were wet, but I didn’t mind, not the embankment or the wet feet or the stars melting away in the light and the artificial structures around me. The zombie was oozing all over me from its -- his -- caved-in skull, and I did mind that. Zombie ooze was a bitch to get out of clothes, even if I’d given up on wearing colors years ago. Black simply was the safest bet for a necromancer.

Zombies reeked when they weren’t really fresh, and this one was ripe -- fish-market-in-the-summer-heat-three-days-after-closing ripe. I looked up and considered my life choices, all of which had led me here.

“Do you need CPR?” someone said. It was a warm, manly voice, and I was reasonably sure it could make chocolate melt, star-shaped or otherwise.

I stuffed my self-pity away and turned my head to get a better look at the speaker. He was as handsome as a devil, with skin that looked like marble in the glow of the city at night. His hair shimmered liquid black, but it might have been some shade of brown in proper lighting. It went well past his ears and looked styled with care to get that messy, I just got up out of bed after a night of hard fucking look.

“Why the fuck would I need CPR?” I asked. My voice didn’t sound like I’d just considered crying a moment ago, and I was proud of that.

The guy shrugged. “It’s hard to tell with humans. Your kind is so accident prone, and you seem to be having trouble breathing. Or maybe you hit your head? Do you remember how you got here?”

Did he fucking think I was suffering from amnesia or a head injury or something? “I’m having trouble breathing because I have a fucking dead zombie on my chest, asshat,” I said. In my considered necromantic opinion, I was being perfectly polite, even though I couldn’t be sure what kind of creature the guy was. I’d given him a quick glance with my mage sight, and human he was not.

Jeez, I hated gods and otherworldly beings.

“All zombies are dead,” Mr. Sexy said. “It’s a prerequisite. This one seems to have had its brainstem properly destroyed, however.”

“Oh, smarty-pants, thanks a bunch for the lecture. The basics of necromancy have ever escaped me, even after I raised my very first corpse thirteen fucking years ago.” It had been a blackbird that had died when he crashed into a window at my school. I had cradled the poor thing in my hands as it breathed its last, had cried, and that had triggered my necromancer power. Pretty boy did not need to know that. Every other person I’d ever told had made fun of me for it.

“You could have suffered a head injury with amnesia. How am I supposed to know what you know?” He walked toward me. His movements were silent, cat-like, and more elegant than was right. Even despite the zombie oozing out on me, my cock couldn’t quite ignore him. Seriously, though, what was up with his fixation on first aid and amnesia?

He grabbed the zombie by the legs and pulled the dead-dead corpse off me. “Oh. You caved in its skull with a rock,” he said when he saw the murder weapon in question, the goo glistening on its stony surface. Well, it wasn’t really a murder weapon, seeing as how the zombie had been dead, but details. “How traditional.” He held out a hand to me, and I took it and let him pull me back to my feet. “I’m Lucy, by the way. Short for Lucifer, but I prefer Lucy. As in Lucy Westenra, the woman who almost single-handedly turned Dracula into the first reverse harem romance novel ever before she made the wise decision to claim immortality instead. She was such an underrated character, and I really don’t know why people don’t like her more.”

I dusted myself off. Didn’t help with the wet feet or the zombie ooze, which I really only distributed, like soft butter on hot toast. The shirt I was wearing was ruined. Good thing I had a dozen other plain black shirts just like it back home. “Maybe because she fucking ate children.”

He shrugged. “Well, everyone has a craving now and then. No one judges women’s monthly chocolate cravings, and I don’t see how that was so much worse.”

My brain caught up with the conversation. Lucifer? The Lucifer? The fucking Morning Star, seducer of stuffy virgins and lover of apples? I looked at him. Up at him. Asshole was tall and handsome, the kind of guy I could only ever talk to with about three drinks in me. “You’re the Devil? Satan? Beelzebub?”

“Lu-cy,” he said, slowing down as if he was reconsidering the brain damage thing. Even his eyebrows were perfect, which I only noticed because he pulled one of those up, something most people couldn’t do in real life. He could. And he looked hot doing it. Hotter.

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Meet the Author 

  Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | BookBub

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NEW at Changeling Press: Building a Family by M.L. Uberti #contemporaryromance #agegap @mluberti_writer

 

Jamie knows to Daniel she’s just the babysitter for his brother’s children. She’s too young, too inexperienced, too shy for him. But she feels safe when she’s with him, and she wishes they could have more.

Daniel knows he’s too old, too rough, and far too wary for a beautiful young woman like Jamie. She should run away from him and what he wants and needs from her.

Unless they’re both wrong.

GET IT HERE

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 ML Uberti

First time I met her, I hadn’t been here a full week. My brother had convinced me to leave my gig for one with better pay -- closer to family. I made a shitload already but Brandon was itching to have me stateside again after I’d been gone half a decade in the army, then another twelve years working for Shell Oil, deep in ocean waters away from civilization. I think he was afraid I was going insane or becoming antisocial or something.

First time I saw her was Sunday dinner. I’d arrived on Monday, when I’d thrown the few bags I had down on the floor of the rental Brandon got for me and passed out, then done nothing but work the next six days. My first day off I wanted to get some furniture, maybe buy some shit for my fridge that wasn’t half-empty takeout containers. But Brandon insisted I come over and have dinner with him and Taylor, his wife, and his three kids, Austin and Becca, five-year-old twins, and two-year-old daughter Sierra. My brother had managed to knock up his wife again and she was due in four months with another boy.

A Lucas family trait was that none of us could keep it in our pants. If my brothers and I had anything in common it was as soon as we all hit fifteen, we couldn’t get enough pussy. Girls in school, from the town up the road, college chicks hitting the bars in Modesto where we grew up -- they were all fair game. And we played to fucking win.

But with pussy came chains. They wanted to lock you down, bleed you dry and make you fucking miserable. Didn’t want or need that shit so at thirty-eight years old, I knew I’d never settle down. Until I saw the babysitter.

“Jamie! Austin can’t find his jersey!” Taylor practically shouted in my ear from right outside the back door while my brother and I were both leaning against the counter of his kitchen, beer in hand.

“I think it’s in the laundry basket in the basement! I’ll grab it!” a soft, feminine voice called back.

“Thanks, hon!” Taylor let the door slam and joining my brother and I in the kitchen. “I swear to God this house would fall down around our ears without Jamie.”

Taylor worked with us at Valiant Drilling as the office manager. That’s how she’d met my brother. After six months of him asking her every damn day to go out with him, he finally wore her down and she said yes. They were married less than a year later, and two after that, Austin and Becca were born. Brandon told me as soon as he saw her, he knew. “Like a boner to the heart,” he stated eloquently.

I thought he was crazy. Taylor was cute, sure. Sexy in a way, with curvy hips and a little bit of sass. But tying himself down with one woman then having three-soon-to-be-four kids with her? Sounded like hell on fucking earth.

Then the door opened and swear to God, it felt like time froze.

I saw a flash of a slight frame, with my stare traveling from a pair of white sneakers, up a pair of slim, long legs that went on for miles, to an ass clad in a pair of black cotton leggings, a slight flare of hips, a flat stomach, a hell of rack, and then a face that was show-stopping. Her eyes were honey-colored, her hair dark, pulled up off her neck in a messy bun, and as I took in her full mouth, classic features and thick lashes, my dick went to steel.

She turned and faced me, the corners of her mouth tipping up as her golden brown eyes met mine. “Hi! I’m Jamie. You must be Daniel. Brandon talks about you all the time.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and I felt that in my dick.

I swallowed a mouthful of beer so I didn’t have to respond and tipped my head up in a nod, meeting her gaze for just a second, then uncrossing my legs to try to get some room for my throbbing cock.

Didn’t work. She just kept smiling at me, then bounced away to the steps, and I got a good, long look at that ass. I swear to God my dick started to leak into my jeans.

“I’ll help. It’s the least I can do since you do everything else,” Taylor told the angel, setting down her bowl and trotting after the babysitter, as Jamie’s twinkling laugh drifted up the steps.

I watched them go, my body stiff in more ways than one, and after a few seconds, Brandon burst out laughing.

My gaze went to him, bent over and losing it. “Oh shit, man. Haven’t seen that look on your face in a long time. Since you were fourteen and had Miss Harrison for geometry. You had to hide your hard-on behind your textbook for a whole semester. Classic!”

My brother was still laughing at me as I finished off the beer I had in my hand and grabbed another one, not saying a word.

He wasn’t wrong.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Starbucks aficionado, lover of throw blankets and betrayer of all things kale, ML Uberti is a Wayne State University graduate and Metro Detroit author with a predilection for oddities and happy endings. She is mom to three autistic kids, 2 ridiculously stupid dogs and wife of a teacher and musician who has endless patience for her impeccably bad taste in Netflix shows and murder documentaries. She is thrilled to dip her toe into scifi romance from contemporary and hopes you enjoy her big, brooding alien alphas and resilient fairy tale queens.

New at Changeling Press: Eyes of the Leopard by Isabella Jordan #paranormalromance @isyjordanauthor

 

 You've never seen darkness 'til you've looked through the eyes of a leopard.

Cover Art by Sahara Kelly

Say hello to the night.

All Nicole Stewart wants is to see the new black leopard at the zoo. But her visit sets her on a dark, sensual path from which there's no return. It also brings Vitali and Ilia Kerensky into her life. The brothers are two of the few remaining victims of a centuries-old curse placed on their native village in Serbia.

Doomed to live life half human, half demon-leopard, the Kerensky brothers pull Nicole into their strange world, shared with their sister Nadia and their nemesis, Mikhail Turgenev. Then there are the other. Americans, like Alex and Joey. and Nicole. Their frightening origins bring mystery and danger to them all.

You've never seen darkness 'til you've looked through the eyes of a leopard.

Publisher's Note: Eyes of the Leopard (Box Set) contains the previously released titles, Discovery, Vengeance, Cat On A Hot New York Roof, Superstitious, and Captive.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Also available in paperback

PRAISE FOR EYES OF THE LEOPARD

4 1/2 Hearts!
"Jordan packs sensual, lust-filled steaming erotica into an all-too-short story. The plot always stays on focus and never becomes overshadowed by the sexual encounters of the main characters -- who hold their ground and never fail to hold our interest."

-- Romantic Times BOOKclub

"...a thrill ride from start to finish. Sexual tension, danger, and the promise of revenge all combine together to create a great story."

-- Sarah W., Fallen Angel Reviews

""Cat on a Hot New York Roof is a sensual and intense story from start to finish."

-- Sarah, Fallen Angel Reviews

Five stars! "Ms. Jordan did magnificently with this story. I was enthralled the whole time wondering what would happen next. Beautifully done!"

-- Phoenix Forrester, Realms of Love

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Isabella Jordan is the alter ego of an otherwise stressed out web designer, programmer, and internet junkie. When she's not trying to perfect her own personal caffeine IV drip, she enjoys spending time with her family, doing volunteer work, and writing. She loves creating new stories of all kinds and chatting with readers and friends.

Isabella would love to hear from her readers!

Visit her Website

New Release: Witches and Demons (box set and print) by Saloni Quinby #paranormalromance #GayRomance @katehillromance

Ghosts, demons, curses, and a passion that may destroy them all…

Dark Before Dawn (Witches and Demons 1): In one night two strangers share a lifetime of passion. Once a year, evil haunts the woods on Sam’s ancestral land. Sam uses his magic to keep it under control, but this year he’s recovering from an accident and his magic is weak. His powers can be strengthened through sex, but his partner has abandoned him. Only with Aaron’s help can they survive the dark before dawn.

Accursed (Witches and Demons 2): The first-born sons in actor Ian Northhill’s family have all died on their thirty-fourth birthday, and Ian’s is just around the corner. The problem is, he doesn’t believe in ghosts, demons or curses. When Ian and Medium Maxim Thomas meet, they’re overwhelmed by lust. Will Ian trust Maxim enough to allow his lover to save him from the family curse?

Warriors of Sir Guy (Witches and Demons 3): For eight hundred years The Warriors of Sir Guy have tracked the half-demon child of their founder, vowing not to rest until the creature is destroyed. Only Robin sees the good in him. When he warns Robin that demons have infiltrated the Warriors of Sir Guy, the lovers are thrust into a battle that might destroy them.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

https://bit.ly/3eIbPFw

Preorder for July 31^st  at retailers …

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3h8A94M

Apple Books: https://apple.co/2CRAv0P

Kobo: https://bit.ly/3eIuWiL

B&N Nook: https://bit.ly/30nKsLM

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Saloni Quinby
Excerpt from Dark Before Dawn

Night fell upon the longest stretch of lonely road Aaron had ever traveled. He'd stopped about an hour ago to ask directions from an elderly man walking a wolf-dog. Aaron generally wasn't afraid of animals, but the way this canine had snarled and growled, its eyes blazing and fangs flashing, Aaron had been wary. Unfortunately the old man hadn't been much friendlier than the dog, but he'd given Aaron curt directions to the nearest highway. At least he'd told Aaron it was the fastest route. About ten minutes ago he'd turned down a dirt road, past an iron gate the old man had described. Now he wasn't so sure the directions were accurate. Maybe the old dude had decided to play a trick on an obvious city guy. Aaron looked like he belonged deep in the country about as much as the wolf-dog belonged in a city park.

The night grew darker and Aaron started to worry. He was nearly out of gas and the car was making a strange grating sound, not to mention the check engine light had turned on seconds ago. He'd been driving since six o'clock in the morning and that was after a measly four hours of sleep. If the car didn't die first, Aaron might end up falling asleep behind the wheel. He was torn between pulling over to get some rest and continuing a little farther to see if the turnoff for the highway was nearby after all. Then fate made the decision for him. The damn car choked and died.

Cursing, Aaron tried to start it, but it refused to move. Finally he sighed, folded his arms on the wheel and rested his head on them. He closed his eyes.

"I'll only relax for a minute," he said. He'd just started zoning out when he jumped awake.

Was he crazy?

He couldn't sit here in the middle of a dark road. If someone happened to drive by, they'd crash into him.

Groaning, he stepped out of the car and pushed it to a safer position along the side of the road. By now it was so dark that his hazards were the only light in the area. He wished he'd charged his cell phone battery before leaving the hotel. At least then he could call for help. Before leaving on his business trip, he'd accidentally left his car phone charger in his second vehicle. An hour into his journey he realized he'd forgotten it, but he'd decided not to turn back for it. Now he wished he had. An hour of inconvenience would have saved him hours, maybe even a night, in the woods of northeast USA. Even better, why hadn't he simply flown?

Seated behind the wheel, he set his chair to a full recline position and, using his black sports jacket as a blanket, settled down to rest.

Aaron felt like he'd just drifted off when banging on his window roused him.

He jumped up, his heart pounding, and stared at a slim, dark-haired man standing near his car.

"Hey," the guy shouted, his voice muffled through the closed window. "You can't stay here."

His brow furrowed, Aaron opened the window partway and said, "I don't have much choice. My car died and my cell is out of batteries. Do you have a phone by any chance?"

The guy closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't believe this. This is private property."

"You own the road?" Aaron asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"Road? Mister, this is my driveway. Didn't you see the gate at the end?"

"Yeah."

"So you just opened it and drove on through?" the guy asked, a harsh edge to his voice.

Curling his lip, Aaron said, "No. It was wide open."

"Open?"

"Yeah, so I didn't realize it was private property." Aaron sighed and shook his head. "Besides the old guy with the wolf dog said this would take me to the highway."

"Old guy with the wolf dog? That's Mr. Seymour. He's a little nuts. I wouldn't doubt it if he opened the damn gate."

"I'm sorry for trespassing, but --"

"Any other time I wouldn't care if you parked all night. Just not tonight."

"I told you --"

"I know. I know. Well, you can't stay here. It's not safe."

Now Aaron became suspicious. What was this guy up to? "Why?" he asked.

"There's a private hunting party going on. You might get hurt and I don't want to be responsible."

"Then how about either letting me use a phone or calling a ride for me?"

The man stared at him for a long moment. The flashing hazard lights cast eerie shadows on his face, but he seemed to be quite handsome with fabulous cheekbones, a long, slender nose and wide set eyes. Aaron couldn't tell exactly what color they were, but they looked light.

"All right," the guy said. "My cabin isn't far. You can come with me."

About the Author

Saloni Quinby (Also writing as (Kate Hill)

Always a fan of romance and the paranormal, I started writing over twenty years ago. My first story was accepted for publication in 1996. Since then I’ve written over one hundred short stories, novellas and novels. I love to blend genres. I also love horror and a happily ever after, so if you’re looking for romance with witches, aliens, vampires, angels, demons, shapeshifters and more, there’s a good chance you’ll find something to your taste here.

When I’m not writing, I enjoy reading, watching horror and action movies, working out and spending time with my family and pets.  I love hearing from readers, so feel free to leave a comment at my blog or connect with me on Twitter.

NEW RELEASE: If You Really Go Demon by Sean Michael

Griff has been living with a terrible secret for centuries. He’s a high demon, but he has wild needs and desires to be a pleasure demon -- to submit to another. Such things are forbidden in hell, but he finally breaks down and confesses his desires to his best friend Savilry, risking not just their friendship but his own safety.

He could never have dreamed Savilry’s response, and Griff will never be the same again.

Available Today at Changeling Press

ADULT EXCERPT

18+ Only

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Sean Michael

“I’m sorry.” Griff’s horns ached, so heavy, so much -- they throbbed like a sore -- but he couldn’t look at his oldest, dearest friend. He didn’t want to see the disgust and disappointment in Savilry’s eyes. “I didn’t know who else to talk to.”

High demons were meant to rule, to control, to fight and gather magic and energy to them. To fuck and bite and dominate.

Something was terribly wrong with him.

Savilry tilted his head, horns curling beautifully from his head. Sav’s eyes were nearly black, his skin a lovely deep burgundy, his hair a shade darker than that. He blinked a few times, then reached out and touched Griff’s hand. “You did the right thing, coming to me. Beelzebub knows what would have happened if you’d pursued this on your own.”

“I’m so sorry. I just… I have these dreams.” Even just thinking about them made his cock respond.

Sav leaned toward him. “What kind of dreams? Tell me.”

“I --”

“Griff, this is the least you’ll be asked.”

His cheeks burned, his eyes cast down on his folded hands. “I dream about being taken, about being changed, about becoming someone else.”

“You dream of being the fuckee instead of the fucker?” Sav’s dark eyes settled on him, staring intently, his friend getting immediately to the heart of the matter.

“Yes. About being touched deep inside with my master’s seed.”

Sav’s eyes went wide, and he drew in a quick, sharp breath.

“Don’t hate me. Please. I didn’t know who else to talk to.” Who else would he tell that he intended to throw himself on the mercy of one of the leaders of the great houses?

“I could never hate you, Griff, but do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”

“To be taken. To make these awful cravings ease.”

“It’s not what you’re made for, though, and once you go down that path, it’s permanent. You can’t decide you want to come back. Your horns…” Sav reached out and stroked his horns, fingers slowly tracing them. “They’d shrink. You know that. Ours grow when we take our boys -- so do our cocks. What will you do if they just become tiny nubs? If they become something aching and tiny?”

His cock began to grow. He didn’t want that, of course, but at the same time he did. He needed it desperately.

Sav’s eyes went even wider. “I can smell your arousal.”

“I should go. I’m sorry.” God, he was so ashamed. He shouldn’t have told Sav; he hated that he was going to lose his best friend over this. He stood to flee.

“Sit down, Griff,” Sav told him and he sat immediately at the order. “We’re going to figure this out.”

Sav wrapped a hand around one of his horns, stroking slow and easy, steadily. He closed his eyes and hummed, the sensation settling right in his balls. Damn, that felt good.

“We are going to figure it out,” Sav repeated. “But before we do anything, I want your mouth on my cock.”

Time stopped. “What?”

“You said you wanted a master. Show me that you mean it.” Sav sat back a little on the couch, spreading his legs. Griff couldn’t miss the nearly hard cock in Sav’s gauzy pants.

Could he do this? Could he kneel before Sav, take that heavy cock in his lips?
Sav was still rubbing Griff’s horn, and the act made his eyes cross, made him slip between Sav’s thighs like a lower demon who was made to pleasure his master.

“Maybe there’s something to these visions of yours.”

ABOUT SEAN MICHAEL

Writing under S. Michael for Het Ménage and Sean for signature M/M titles, Sean Michael leads a classic double life.

Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends days surfing, smutting, organizing an immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs.

While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and perusing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to "Chicago."

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? Sean'll stick with writing stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.