Release Blitz: Fighting Chance by Anni Lee #LGBTQ #contemporaryromance @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing @anniauthor

 

Title: Fighting Chance

Series: Fighting Chance, Book One

Author: Anni Lee

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/19/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 50400

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, music industry, reality TV show, romantic comedy, rom-com, age gap, enemies to lovers, college, battle of the bands, billionaire

Add to Goodreads

Description

How can you write a love song before you’ve felt one?

Roland Finley is convinced he has what it takes to win the Battle of the Bands, a reality TV show where up and coming musicians compete for a record deal. But between college, work, and band practice, he hasn’t had time to experience any of the romance he sings about, and his amateur writing needs a lot of work. This is never more apparent than when a stranger in the park stumbles upon his notebook and tells it exactly like it is.

Jay McClintock wanted nothing to do with this silly reality show, but as the head writer for ALIVE Records, his boss had other plans. After being tasked with writing and coaching one of Roland’s biggest rivals behind the scenes, the only thing keeping him sane is teasing the strange (and low-key talented) young writer he encountered in the park.

Writing for the enemy should have been no big deal, but the more Jay accidentally (and not-so-accidentally) runs into Roland, the harder it is for him to come clean about his involvement with the show. Fortunately, there’s one medium through which they both know how to communicate: Song.

Excerpt

My heart was beating in perfect time with the crowd’s applause. Quick, loud, chaotic, completely out of control. A bead of sweat slid down my cheek, caught on my jawline, and dripped off my chin. I didn’t know if it was from my nerves or the heat of the blaring neon lights overhead. I can barely believe we’ve come this far. Would I be here if not for him?

No. Don’t think about him right now. I can’t. He doesn’t deserve a place on this stage with me. He never did. This is my one chance, and I’m not going to screw it up because of him.
I gripped the mic firmly and swallowed hard.
“I hope you’re ready to rock, Los Angeles!”

*

Three Months Ago

“Habanero Marmalade? What kind of a name is that?” Logan shoved another bite of garlic bread in his mouth, mumbling words between chewing.

“It’s the kind of name that people will remember. A little ridiculous, but also…deep. Poignant. Clever.” I leaned forward over the table, and I mentally deconstructed all the signs in the food court to spell our name. Using the Habanero from Habanero Juan’s and the Ma from Mama’s Pizza made for a fairly respectable logo.

“And fucking stupid.”

My guitarist had no class at all, clearly.

“Well, what do you want to call us then? If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.”

“How about Death Ringer or Dragon’s Fury or something badass like that?”

“What? No. We’re not a metal band. We’re supposed to sound edgy, not like we eat children.” I stole a piece of garlic bread out of his tray and crushed it between my teeth as a symbolic display of my disappointment. Also, as a less symbolic display of the fact that I couldn’t afford lunch that day. “Look, as the writer and lead singer, I think I know more about what sounds good to people than you do.”

“Whatever, Roland.” Logan waved a hand in the air as if to knock away my self-importance. “You can have all the say you want as soon as you come up with something better than Hot Orange Jelly.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “But we need to have this settled by Friday if we’re really going to audition for the Battle of the Bands.”

“That’s four whole days away. Plenty of time.” Logan crammed an impressively large spindle of spaghetti into his mouth before he stood to toss out his tray. “All right, back to work.” He ran a hand through his hair and retied his bun to make sure it was neat and kempt enough for the jewelry shop. He was so tall, lean, and good-looking. I could only imagine how many diamonds he sold with his smile alone. Or how many relationships he broke up with a well-placed wink.

He gave me one last grin before he headed back. “The girls’ volleyball team has a game today. Go walk on over and find something more inspiring than your grandma’s pantry.”

Right. Because a bunch of jocks knocking a ball around is so inspiring. But despite my protests, we were going to have to agree on something if we were going to enter this competition. The Battle of the Bands was more than just a silly reality show. It was a chance at a dream in a world convoluted with fellow dreamers. If we could stand out there, we could stand out anywhere. But I needed Logan to take it seriously first. And I needed to figure out a name.

We had been through a couple of names already: Cheese and Cracker (my idea), Log Rol (his idea), Raining Soup (my idea), Dos Vikings (his idea), PIE-tastophic (my idea. In hindsight, I should probably stop coming up with band names while I’m starving). Having had no success with building a fan base doing local gigs, we both agreed that it would be good to get a fresh start for our TV debut. But I swear to God, coming up with names was the hardest part of being an artist.

I shook my head and grabbed my notebook. He was right about one thing, anyway. A walk would do me some good.

I left the mall and strolled back toward campus, cutting through the park on the way. I always liked this park. Birds chirped and whistled in the trees, creating the perfect ambience for deep thinking. Birds were what inspired me to sing in the first place. All those days sitting in my mother’s garden, listening to their high-pitched calls, watching them fly wherever they wanted to go. Their voices were the battle cry of freedom. Singing was freedom.

I glanced at the trees and whistled my best mockingbird call. Almost on cue, a mockingbird took to the sky. It flapped its wings to the music. Beautiful. I whistled again, and it came toward me. Closer. Closer.

Wait a second—too close! The bird swooped down and knocked into me with its wings. My notebook flew from my hands as I instinctively swatted it away. I always forgot that mockingbirds were assholes.

Once the bird flew off, I collected myself and looked for my notebook. A man stood before me, tall, poised, and sophisticated. He had frameless rectangular glasses that sat on a perfect nose, framed with light-brown hair that fell stylishly unkempt around his face. One of his black leather dress shoes sat pointedly atop my open notebook.

He reached down and picked it up. I watched on, dumbfounded, as his sharp blue eyes moved back and forth over the pages.

“Don’t read that—that’s private!” I heard my voice ringing entirely too loudly in the air, causing the remaining nearby birds to scatter. Something about the sky full of fleeing sparrows, surrounding this dark figure, felt like an image out of horror movie. Like he was an evil sorcerer learning all my secrets before promptly taking over the world.

“I can see why.” His voice was deep and smooth. “I wouldn’t want to share this drivel with anyone either.”

“It’s not…” I was too shocked to figure out how to respond. There was months of work in that notebook. My prized lyrics. My potential band names. Hand-scrawled sheet music. Everything that made up my hopes and dreams.

“I’ll shoot right past the goalie of your love. My puck in your net. Points on the headboard… Are you fucking serious?” He shut my notebook and tossed it over his shoulder, shaking his head in disgust all the while. Hearing my lyrics recited out loud was triggering all my fears and insecurities. Who the hell does this guy think he is?

“It’s supposed to be provocative…” I mumbled under my breath, averting my gaze so he couldn’t read the hurt in my eyes. “Th-that’s just the first draft. It was going to get way better before the competition.” I didn’t know why he was being so harsh anyway. Any words would sound like garbage if you said them like that. Any words… Right?

He walked past me with his hands in his pockets, his eyes hidden by the glare of the sun on his lenses.

“Find another hobby. You’re wasting your time.” He gave me one last kick in the heart before he stepped out of earshot. I watched as he walked away.

Purchase at NineStar Press

Meet the Author

Whether she’s racing motorcycles faster than a RomCom lead’s beating heart, or scuba diving deeper than the pit of love they fall into, Anni Lee is always down for an adventure. She was born and raised in Los Angeles with four siblings and a single mother, which is probably why she has such a penchant for writing big city love and tenacious (albeit dysfunctional) heroes. 

When she’s not typing away behind her laptop, she’s living out of a tent off the back of her motorcycle on her quest to ride around the world. The wilderness is the best place to catch up on reading, after all!

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Release Blitz: Bonfire Bright by Alexa Piper #urbanfantasy #multiplepartners @prowlingpiper @GoIndiMarketing

 

Title: Bonfire Bright

Series: Elvenswood Tales 3

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: June 4, 2021

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male/Female (Male/Male interaction)

Length: 136

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, paranormal, urban fantasy, romantic comedy, multiple partners, werewolves, vampires, pansexual & multisexual

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Charlotte “Charlie” Bisset, born to witches but without any magical power whatsoever, is slowly settling into her relationship with medical doctor and vampire Hugo and with Laurette, Elven royalty and passionate baker. While Charlie is reluctant to commit to moving in with her Elf, New Elvenswood is plagued by unnatural vermin attacks.

Hugo is not a possessive vampire, or at least he tries not to be when it comes to his lovers. Yet, his human lover in particular regularly brings out Hugo’s wilder vampire side even if all he wants for her is sweet, fairy-tale love. Odd attacks on unsuspecting people in their city only leave Hugo more unsettled.

Will the Elf Laurette finally get to claim both his lovers publicly as the thruple approaches the next step in their relationship? Will the vermin defeat our heroes in this urban fantasy romantic comedy? Approach the bonfire and find out… if you dare.

Excerpt

New Elvenswood General Hospital quieted during the night, but in Hugo’s experience, no hospital was ever really still. This morning, after another night spent in the OR, the handover during shift change felt calm to Hugo, though. While he filled in his ICU patient’s chart for the team of the next shift, he watched the nurses gossip and stuff their faces with chocolate Easter eggs someone had left at the nurses’ desk.

How is it spring already? Hugo thought, double-checking his prescriptions.

It was only just Midwinter. But of course, the Equinox had come and gone and announced the seasonal shift, and now it was almost Easter, which Hugo saw as the modern catch-all of the traditional spring festivals, and after, it would be Beltane soon.

Generally, as a vampire, Hugo took only a passing interest in seasonal festivities. They marked the passing of time, but with time to spare ahead of him, the festivals were more or less like the hands of a clock, not extraordinary, just steady. However, this year, seeing the chocolate treats in their shiny foil wrappers and the wicker basket full of colored straw and colorful diabetes traps on the nurses’ counter, Hugo felt like an alarm was going off inside him. The sense of an old grandfather clock slowly ticking away time had vanished. His recently changed relationship status had everything to do with that.

Satisfied with his chart after one last check, Hugo walked toward the nurses’ station.

“Oh, good morning, Dr. Glover,” the day nurse said. Hugo had met her a few times, but he still needed to glance at her nametag.

“Nurse Lopez,” he said, handing her the chart. “I’m leaving this one in your capable hands.”

“Ah, a doctor’s handwriting I can actually read,” Lopez swooned, taking the chart and looking it over. Hugo had to agree with her that most younger doctors were not properly trained in cursive.

“Don’t tell me her hands are more capable than mine,” Walters said. He was one of two ICU head nurses. So far as Hugo could tell this was because he managed to bring not just skill but also cheer to the job.

“Never,” Hugo said with a wink. “And by the way, take me off the roster for the Easter weekend, would you?”

“Huh?” Lopez said. “Don’t you always work the holiday shifts?”

Technically true when I was single, Hugo thought. Charlie, born to witches but without inheriting the skill, was not likely to mind much whether he worked or not, but their other lover, Laurette, never passed up any opportunity to celebrate anything, and if Hugo wasn’t there, he’d never hear the end of Laurette’s complaints.

Unless I can convince Charlie to help me convince Laurette to let this celebration go. It was unlikely for the Elf to forego any celebration, however. Hugo knew that all too well.

Then again, while witches focused on the Equinox and on Beltane more, they usually adapted to the surrounding culture to some degree, and New Elvenswood, with its larger-than-average witch population, had Easter fires, complete with the burning of effigies as proxy sacrifices, as well as an Easter egg hunt that was fun for the children and meant to bring prosperity to the grownups who participated.

If she insists, I might be the first vampire in the history of the city to go on an egg hunt with a witch descendant, even if she isn’t a witch. Hugo wasn’t sure whether he wanted to roll his eyes at the idea. He wasn’t sure whether he liked it, running through the woods with Charlie in search of painted eggs, but something about it did seem appealing.

Laurette probably wouldn’t want to come. He lacks the outdoorsy spirit.

Yet, Laurette was willing to do many a thing he didn’t enjoy if it meant pleasing their human lover. The Elf had even -- on more than one occasion -- interrupted his baking for Charlie. And, while Laurette could be pushy beyond reason, he had so far not pestered Charlie one tiny bit about her failure to come to a decision about moving in with him. Laurette had asked her to do so this past Valentine’s Day among a rain of trickster arrows and a short trip to hell.

“He has a girlfriend now, didn’t you hear?” Walters said, pulling Hugo out of his thoughts.

Lopez looked Hugo up and down.

“Shame,” she said. “You know, I’m into women, but if I’d ever make an exception, they’d better look like you -- tall, raven-haired, mysterious, and with those pretty blue, to-die-for eyes.”

Hugo cleared his throat.

“Well, thank you for that… compliment?” he said.

She nodded.

“Yes. Definitely a compliment. So what? Are you settling down? Moving in together?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Making more adorable --”

“No,” Hugo said. Heavens, if this is what I have to put up with, I feel for every woman who doesn’t want to pump out eggs like the Easter bunny. “But we are spending the weekend together.” He hoped so. He needed to let Charlie know and find out what her plans were. And then, he’d have to navigate whatever extravaganza their Elf had planned.

Elven extravaganza… Hugo sighed, long and deep, and the nurses exchanged a look.

“Sounds like she’s a right handful,” Lopez said. She patted his arm. “I’ve been there, and yes, they are usually the hottest ones.”

Purchase

Changeling Press LLC | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

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

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Release Blitz: Bound to Remember #contemporaryromance #bondage @totally_bound @firstforromance

 

Bound to Remember by Alexandra Alan

General Release Date: 1st June 2021

Word Count: 15,038
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 63

GENRES:

BONDAGE AND BDSM
COMEDY AND HUMOUR
CONTEMPORARY

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

Meeting an old flame is about to tie her in knots...

Most first kisses don’t end in stitches.

True, kissing in high school can be far from perfect, but when Annie Carver is finally courageous enough to make out with Nicholas Liu, there should have been stars and trumpets, not broken glasses and a collapsed closet.

Ten years later, Annie still thinks about Nick. Although she’s been through her share of difficult relationships and sexual awakenings, she can’t help but wonder about the sweet boy who blushed as she helped him with homework assignments and whose name she wrote in her notebooks.

A concert is the last place she expects to run into him. It’s easy for them to connect…and even easier for her infatuation to return. In the last ten years, Annie’s changed—she’s discovered how much she enjoys bondage. Her ex saw her kinks as a flaw, but will Nick be willing to push his limits, or is this one relationship that’s bound to remain a memory?

Excerpt

Tonight was a perfect night.

Most summer evenings were so humid that they left a layer of tacky sweat on already heated skin, and mosquitoes targeted any exposed limbs with all the determination of a pack of war generals. Any movement other than a slow walk made sweat bead along temples and armpits, which, of course, further attracted said mosquitoes.

Not this night, though.

There was a crisp chill in the air, just sharp enough to hint at approaching autumn, and a lazy breeze cooled damp skin. Couples milled about under warm streetlamps and shared bites of ice cream. Fireflies dodged frantic children with Mason jars, and the sound of laughter bonded with the smell of tart beer from bars that had opened their doors to let the evening inside.

It was, without a doubt, a perfect night.

Annie Carver couldn’t have cared less about any of it.

A herd of screaming, gyrating people surrounded Annie in a venue where saxophones blared loud enough to destroy the eardrums of the uninitiated.

And she absolutely fucking adored it.

Annie had always loved ska music. She loved the lyrics, the thud of bass, the wild scream of the trumpets, the peppy riffs that—even if the singer belted about the injustices inherent in the political landscape—were done alongside a beat that didn’t so much encourage dancing as mandate it.

Okay—Annie hadn’t always loved ska. That might have been a lie. There had been a time, a good solid thirteen years or so, where she had gone about thinking the best music was the kind in which someone wailed into a microphone about the unfairness of life and the inhumanity of humanity. There had been mention of souls in there, somewhere. Vampires might have made an appearance, too.

Then ska had come along, swooping in and carrying her out of that meaningless pit like any good storybook hero would do, except it hadn’t done so with a sword and a noble steed, but with syncopated guitar riffs and checkered high-top sneakers.

In the tiny venue, buffeted by stale air and the blast of brass, Annie tightened her grip on her plastic cup of cheap beer and raised it above her head as she shouted the lyrics to the song’s whirlwind finale.

One of her friends elbowed her in the side, and Annie started. She had been so involved in the music that she’d forgotten for a moment they were with her tonight.

Lee nudged her again and pointed at the mosh pit. “That looks scary,” he shouted over the riotous cheering. “Who goes in there? Masochists?”

“Sometimes,” she shouted back.

Charlie appeared at her side. “What are we talking about?”

“Mosh pit.” Annie pointed at the swirling flow of thrashing people.

“More spit? Who has more spit??” Lee shouted.

“Mosh pit,” Annie said again, and jabbed her finger in emphasis.

Charlie blinked as someone in the pit shrieked. “What?”

It took a full second, but she managed not to drag her hand down her face in exasperation. She tried to keep in mind that this was her friends’ first show. They hadn’t needed to figure out the technicalities of being in a mosh pit with orthodontia or lie to their parents about where they’d gotten their split lip. Neither Lee nor Charlie had spent enough money on tickets that, if combined, could be a down payment on a comfortable home.

And really, it was quite sweet that they’d wanted to come tonight. This wasn’t exactly a good time for Annie, what with the bad breakup memories of last year, so when she’d mentioned this show, they’d jumped at the chance to join her.

“We’ll keep you company!” Lee, the man who did not appreciate large crowds, had said.

“How different could it be?” Charlie, the man who frequented opera and baroque ensembles, had said.

They seemed to be doing fine, though Lee jumped whenever someone screamed, and Charlie covered his ears with his hands at every opportunity.

Annie leaned in and shouted a few words into Lee’s ear.

“Oooh,” he said in response. “So you just run around and punch people?”

It was too loud for anyone to hear her scandalized gasp, because that was like simplifying all four seasons of Battlestar Galactica into the phrase “Robots doing stuff.”

Annie made a tight spinning motion with her beer cup. “You don’t run in the pit. You skank around violently and with great enthusiasm.”

Lee blinked at her in an unsyncopated way that spoke of the two beers he’d already had tonight, then asked Charlie, “Did you get any of that?”

Charlie turned to Lee. “What?”

The band kicked off another song, the mosh pit roiled once more, and Annie had to hold a hand around her ear so that she could listen to Lee.

“She says they’re not running, they’re being angry sluts,” he said with a drunken giggle.

The yelp he made when Annie elbowed him was loud enough to hear over the blasting notes of the saxophone.

She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the pit. Everyone there was having so much fun. Limbs flailed, heads thrashed, faces turned up to the stage in something nearing rapture. There was one tall dark-haired someone, catching her eye only because of the height of his jumps, who danced as if he were summoning demons of joy with his body. He looked like he was having so much fun.

Annie wanted to have that much fun, and she couldn’t see it happening if she stayed all the way over by the grungy, beer-stained wall.

When they’d arrived, she’d felt obligated to keep away from the most dangerous part of the venue, thinking that if she returned with a black eye, the sight would frighten Charlie and Lee away from ska shows for the rest of eternity.

Despite Charlie’s improvised ear protection and Lee’s general confusion, they were starting to nod in rhythmic appreciation of the band. Lee was even making a minimal effort to dance.

Annie didn’t want to ruin this for them. She watched as Lee pulled one of Charlie’s hands away from his ears and held it tight, then gave his boyfriend a warm smile. It’s good to try new things in a relationship. Wasn’t that what she’d read in a magazine somewhere?

Her stomach flipped in the disappointed, leaden sort of way she’d grown used to whenever she thought about how things had ended a year ago.

She’d tried. Really. She and Trevor had been stagnant for several months, and when Annie had taken the magazine’s advice—try something new, talk about your fantasies, change up the bedroom routine—Trevor had become a lot less stagnant. Really mobile, actually. He’d practically flown out of both her apartment and her life.

Her sigh was lost in the din. She turned to the stage and watched the brass musicians aggressively try to out-blow one another for only a few seconds before Lee tugged at the sleeve of her shirt.

“That girl is wearing the same pants as you!” he shouted, pointing at a woman twenty feet away. “You should sue!”

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Alexandra Alan

Alexandra lives in Colorado with her partner and two very strange cats. Her nerdiest experience was when she had a heated discussion about Star Wars during a game of Dungeons & Dragons. Though she’s always on the lookout for more hobbies, some of her favorites are drawing, knitting, archery, rock climbing, brewing mead, and scrimshaw. The most badass she has ever felt was when she took jousting lessons for a year. She has never met a bad pun she hasn’t adored, and loves to read books that make her heart race. Follow Alexandra on Twitter.

Giveaway

Enter to win a fabulous gift package and get a FREE Alexandra Alan romance book!

Alexandra Alan's Bound to Remember Giveaway

ALEXANDRA ALAN IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GIFT PACKAGE AND GET GET A FREE EBOOK FROM THE AUTHOR! Notice: This competition ends on 15th June 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

Rooster (Devil's Boneyard MC) by Harley Wylde #agegap #RomCom @HarleyW_Writer

 Alora – I’ve prided myself on being a strong, independent woman and not needing anyone. I didn’t become a bestselling author by the age of twenty out of pure dumb luck. I worked my tail off to get as far as I have. But there are few perks to having a man in my life. Laughter, romance, and companionship. Battery operated boyfriends can only do so much. Too bad the guy who sets me on fire is a bossy biker who wants to claim me. No way I’m letting him label me as property. Nope. Not happening. Doesn’t matter if he does make my knees weak and my heart race. I’m not giving in!

Rooster – Of all the women to capture my interest, it had to be the most stubborn, sexy, adorable woman on the planet. I love her mind, her sense of humor, and the way she fills out a pair of shorts. I don’t even mind that she’s an exhibitionist, as long as no one touches. Doesn’t matter to me her uncles were both rotten to the core. The Devil’s Fury may think she belongs to them, but I have other plans. Alora will be mine -- no matter the cost.

WARNING: Rooster is part of the Devil’s Boneyard MC series. There are adult situations and bad language. No cliffhanger. Happily-ever-after and laughter guaranteed!

Preorder at online booksellers

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde

The front door nearly rattled off the hinges when someone started pounding on it. If I hadn’t known King Kong was a fictional character, I’d think he was on my porch. What the hell?

I narrowed my eyes in the direction of the front entry and went to answer it. It wasn’t like I knew anyone in town. I’d only been here a month, which made it doubtful I’d pissed anyone off -- yet. I yanked it open, ready to tear into whoever was on the other side, but stopped and stared.

The man arched his eyebrows and tipped his sunglasses down enough to peer over the top of them. God, why did I find that so sexy? He’d braced an arm against the doorframe and his muscles bulged. I licked my lips and tried to remember how to speak. As my gaze skimmed over him, it snagged on the black leather over his shoulders. Fuck. It was one of the bikers.

Rooster – Devil’s Boneyard MC.

“You going to let me in, a ghrá?”

His voice sent chills down my spine and my nipples hardened against my thin tank. He smirked, clearly knowing the effect he had on me. Asshole.

“I don’t let strangers into my home,” I said. I peered over his shoulder and saw another man on a motorcycle at the curb. It seemed only one of them wanted to come into the house. Thank goodness for small favors.

He leaned in, the scent of cinnamon and cloves making me want to breathe in deep. “But we’re not strangers. You’re Twister’s niece, which makes you Devil’s Fury property. Since we consider them family, that makes you mine.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil's Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley's writing, her motto is the hotter the better -- off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can't deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you've come to the right place. She doesn't shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve. 

The times Harley isn't writing, she's thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She's also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980's, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990's to today, even though she'd much rather be reading or writing.  You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you're there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

Happy Effin Valentine by Stephanie Burke #RomCom #UrbanFantasy @FlashyCat @changelingpress

 

Masataka is a shape-shifting neko who makes the unfortunate mistake of picking up a stunning kitsune at a bar and taking her home for the night. How was he to know it was her wedding day? Or that her chosen mate was a nine-tailed kitsune of great distinction and power? Masa’s punishment is to be banished to Earth, stuck in his cat form until someone wishes for him to stay.

If it weren’t for bad luck, Effin wouldn’t have any luck at all. It’s Valentine’s Day, a day supposed to symbolize love and romance. Instead, it’s the worst day of Effin’s life. Whatever could go wrong, does. Abandoned in the middle of nowhere, Effin finds a homeless kitty. Charmed, she takes the cute, furry creature home.

It just so happens that the pretty kitty is actually Masataka, that lucky, lusty, shape-shifting neko. Suddenly, bad dates, worse clothes, and the sister from hell are a thing of the past.

Effin is the woman of Masataka’s dreams. Effin’s not so sure. It’s up to Masataka to convince Effin to believe in the staying power of love… and in her sexy lucky charm.

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press 

preorder for February 5th at online booksellers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2021 Stephanie Burke

Effin was not having a good day.

In fact, not since Vesuvius had erupted and tons of hot volcanic ash had descended upon the denizens of Pompeii had anyone had a bad day like this. Come to think of it, bad was too minor a word. Her day had been vile, loathsome, horrid, terrifying, disgusting, and monstrously illogical.

And it all started on February thirteenth -- Friday, February 13th, when Effin Damnwell Hurtzs opened her mouth.

Her mother had always warned her to think before she spoke, a trait she lacked, and a tendency she shared with her mother. “That little pink thing in your mouth is going to get you into a world of trouble, Effin.” Her mother sighed, shaking her head as if she knew that trouble for her eldest daughter was inevitable.

Hell, she was born during a leap year! Double hell, if Effin’d had any luck at all, Trouble would have been her middle name.

She came upon her unusual moniker by accident. When her mother, doped up with painkillers and sedatives, was asked two different questions at the same time after a forty-three hour labor, this was the result:

Her father: “How does it feel?”

The medical receptionist: “What shall we name this beauty?”

Her mother’s response: “It effin damn-well hurts, you bastard!”

Her father had finally learned to keep the pink thing in his mouth still, especially after his loving wife ripped out a handful of chest hair.

The medical receptionist had sniffed: “You don’t have to be so mean about it! I heard you just fine!”

Her mother: “What?”

The result: A tiny, beautiful little chocolate baby girl stuck with a name that would ensure future school fights and taunting for a lifetime.

And now, how Effin wished she had taken her mother’s advice to heart, especially after she recalled how she’d got her name. But no! Effin Damnwell Hurtzs had to challenge fate and miscellaneous creatures by loudly declaring, “There are no such things as gremlins!” when her best friend confided that she was being plagued by a goodly tribe of them.

And what’s even worse, she made her declaration on Friday, February 13th, black Friday, the unluckiest day of the year.

After ignoring her best friend Christa’s horrified stare, she went home, had a nice mug of cocoa laced with a liberal shot of Cask & Cream Caramel Temptation, indulged in a nice hot bath, and retired to her boudoir to dream wonderful dreams of the blind date Christa had set her up with.

According to Christa, her date, Buster, was a CPA with an MBA and drove a BMW. The brother was supposed to be fine as hell, independent, didn’t live with his mother, had a lucrative job that ensured he wouldn’t be hitting her up for loans, and had impeccable social skills. That meant he had proper pronunciation and would say shrimp instead of scrimps, would chew with his mouth closed, would not brag about himself, and she would not suddenly determine that his ethnicity was actually Russian or Roman from the speed and accuracy of octopus hands.

Yes, Effin went to sleep with a smile on her face, her tummy warm and full, feeling sated and altogether pleased with herself.

Life was good, and tomorrow, Valentine’s Day, it would only get better.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts, an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

New Today at Changeling Press #RomanceBooks @katehillromance @FlashyCat @HarleyW_Writer

  The Daring Doms, Triplets Tucker, Mitch and Quint, have a taste for danger - and a need for more.

The gorgeous Domanico triplets -- or the Daring Doms -- have a taste for danger. Tucker, Mitch and Quint -- a lifeguard, a firefighter and a bounty hunter -- are single, but that’s about to change…

In Too Deep: Keith dreams of being Tucker’s guy. The lifeguard is hotter than the California sun and Keith knows he has fallen in love, but he fears confessing his feelings will scare Tucker off.

Bull by the Horns: Hurled off a mechanical bull directly into the arms of firefighter Mitch Domanico, Blake insists on hooking up with the hunk. Unfortunately he passes out before the best part. Mitch has lusted after manicurist Blake from the moment they met. Still, he wants to be sure that Blake’s desire for him isn’t just a drunken whim.

A Wanted Man: While chasing a fugitive, Quint Domanico risks his life to save a man caught in the line of fire. Dalton has had no luck in money or love. He’s used to being on his own and isn’t sure if he’s meant for commitment. If his relationship with Quint moves from great sex to something more permanent, will he be ready?

Publisher’s Note: Daring Domanicos contains the previously published novellas In Too Deep, Bull by the Horns, and A Wanted Man.

Get it Today

How to date a pair of centaurs? Get a good grip and hope for a long, bumpy ride.

Good girl Kiara Stone only wanted to have a little fun for once in her life, and parachuting over Cambodia seemed like a thrill. But crash landing through a mountain and landing in the land of the centaurs was almost too much.

Now she is their goddess and under the protection of two very regal male warrior partners, Zeethan and Xaylu, and struggling to learn a new culture as foreign to her as her ways are to them. Hopefully she can learn fast enough not to start a war, destroy their whole belief system, and learn to date a pair of centaurs, because it looks like there is no returning home.

Get it Today

She's a one night stand, a Dixie Reaper's daughter, and a whole lot of trouble. I'll make her mine!

Farrah -- I’ve spent my entire life at the Dixie Reapers MC compound -- one of the perks of being the VP’s daughter. Except it’s suffocating. Leaving to start a life of my own was the only solution. I knew what it would mean if I went to the Devil’s Fury MC compound, even more so to flirt with their Sergeant-at-Arms. Getting involved would ruin the little bit of freedom I’ve found. Then I ended up in the man’s bed. Leave it to me to find trouble around every corner. My daddy is going to be so pissed, especially when I run from Demon, get snatched off the streets, and shoved into a trunk. I’m not winning at the adulting thing.

Demon -- She was a one-night stand. Until the condom broke. Then I found out she’d lied to me. The hot little number in my bed wasn’t just any woman, she was the daughter of a Dixie Reaper. Maybe I shouldn’t have barked orders at her, or spanked her. Feisty little Farrah ran, pissing me off even more. When she disappeared and I realized trouble had found her, I knew I’d do whatever it took to make sure she was safe. Only after I had her back did I realize she was f**king perfect for me. Watching her handle the club wh*res was hot as hell, and she didn’t take sh*t off anyone.

I’ll make her mine -- permanently.

WARNING: Demon’s book contains graphic violence and sex, bondage, spanking, bad language, and scenes that may be difficult for some readers. But it also has a heroic dog and a man who will move heaven and earth to protect the feisty, smart-mouthed woman he loves. There’s no cliffhanger and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

Get it Today