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Cressida’s Agents Teaser Tuesday

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Steampunk

Date to be Published: June 7, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press

 


 

 

Replete with all the trappings of an alternate world — airships, steam
powered aircraft, automatons, moon bases, and witches with psychic powers —
Cressida’s Agents is a steamy thrill-a-minute ride in a universe of
what could have been.

Cressida Troy, after being mesmerised into betraying humanity, is now the
wife of Mon Ilson, the alien leader, and is crowned Empress of Space. While
pretending to be the love of his long-life, Cressida is desperately seeking
a way to redeem herself, and somehow save human civilization from
destruction at his hands. Then her former fiancé, Jacob, is captured
and brought to the moon. Can she earn back his love, or has her seeming
betrayal hurt him too much?

Meanwhile on Earth, Marjorie, in the guise of brothel madam and casino
owner is acting as an agent of Mon Ilson. Her goal is to learn from him the
secret of immortality, and for now she must do his bidding. A violent
assassination attempt on her airship Fortuna brings her into the strong arms
of handsome Squadron Leader, Sir Christopher “Kit” Colby. Her
attempt to uncover the mastermind behind the plot leads them both into
deadly danger.

 

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Excerpt

 

Bauble-like, the Earth shone down on ash-hued desolation, embarrassing the
barren scene with exuberant fecundity. Patches of white lace speckled the
deep blue of the oceans and brushed the rich ochre of North Africa. Above
was Europe and, if I squinted my eyes, I fancied I could see my island home,
the lush green of England.

My breast ached with a fervent yearning.

My husband, Mon Ilson, the self-anointed Emperor of Space, drew me closer
and kissed my neck. “It will all be ours, my love.”

“When?”

“In due time, my darling.” He pulled me to him, and I snuggled
against his muscular chest. “Do you miss it so?”

I thought a moment and shook my head. “Not when I am with
you.”

His lips brushed my earlobe. “We will return soon. I promise. Our
plans advance by the day. Once again you will walk upon the green grass and
feel fresh air upon your cheeks.”

I turned my head and returned his kiss, deepening it, allowing the stirring
in my quim to mask the confusion of my thoughts. As homesick as I was, did I
really want to go back? Could I conquer my guilt? I feared that with the
first step the grass beneath my feet would turn to cinders as dead as the
lunar dust.

Much had happened to me in the year since I’d left the world of my
birth. I was no longer the same woman, the naive and selfish Cressida Troy
who’d been fooled into betraying humanity. That silly girl had become
Nil Ilson, Empress of Space, wife to Mon Ilson, and co-leader of the
Lunarians. I was no longer responsible only for myself. Thousands now
depended upon me, be they hideous goblins, or those who’d
“adopted” human bodies.

In the deepest recesses of my mind, where I was safe from mental probing, I
knew that I’d been possessed, mesmerised into being a traitor to
humanity, deceiving my fiancé, Jacob McLeary, and then killing the
two greatest threats to Mon Ilson’s plans, Fleur and Horatio
Cumberland.

The problem was only the agent of my apparent treachery knew that. The
spirit of a murdered girl, Marjorie Gilbert. She had taken over my mind and
had deluded me into believing I loved Mon Ilson, and deceived him into
believing it too. She’d also tricked him into giving her advanced
knowledge of witchcraft. My anger at her was tempered by the realisation she
had not done this to me out of maliciousness, but so she could regain her
body which had been stolen by Mon Ilson’s goblins. Because she loved
me, Marjorie had confessed this, and passed on all the magical powers and
knowledge Mon Ilson had given her, including the ability to hide my deepest
thoughts.

That was the past. I had committed myself to saving humanity from
enslavement at my husband’s hands. How I would accomplish this I did
not know. I was impatient. Biding my time waiting for an opportunity to
present itself was both frustrating and dangerous. Not only could I be
discovered, but I ran the greater risk of letting my growing love for Mon
Ilson blind me to the chance if it arose, and then could I bring myself to
exploit it? That I had come to love him no longer surprised me. Over the
last year I’d learned his dreams, ruled alongside him, and shared his
bed. I’d seen firsthand what an extraordinary and charismatic man he
was, and in other circumstances I would have unreservedly given him my heart
and soul. However, those benign conditions did not exist. The reality was
Mon Ilson was a murderer.

A moan escaped my lips as Mon Ilson caressed a hardening nipple. We were
lying on a couch in the top deck of the royal barge, he behind me, with one
leg draped over my hip. In the crease of my posterior his cock
stirred.

I wiggled against him. “Make love to me,” I murmured.

“That was my intention.”

My husband deftly lifted the hem of my robe and pressed the swollen head of
his cock against my quim. He gently nudged apart the moist lips and
effortlessly slid inside. With a slight adjustment of his hips the tip of
his cock touched that especially sensitive flesh on the roof of my cunny.
Pure pleasure flooded my system.

Mon Ilson was over a thousand years old, and with countless sexual liaisons
behind him he had developed techniques that ensured a woman’s complete
satisfaction, and men too. He used sexual magic to bond his people to him
after he transferred their spirits from their goblin bodies into the vacant
husks of murdered humans, a process they termed Adoption.

When Marjorie had occupied my mind she would stimulate my senses from the
inside, maximising my pleasure, and bonding me even more tightly to Mon
Ilson’s influence, and made him even more convinced of his devotion to
me. He had been trapped in Marjorie’s web of deceit just as tightly as
I had. His hold over his people was not just through sexual magic, but the
promise of eternal life. Only he could give them that. Only he could
transfer their goblin souls into human bodies. That was why Marjorie stayed
his servant, hoping to learn the trick. Though she had possessed me, she
didn’t know how. That was the one secret Mon Ilson did not share with
her. Marjorie wanted so much to live, over and over again, that she would do
anything for him.

Now that she was gone from my mind, my physical reactions to his lovemaking
were under my control. To overcome my natural aversion to him — a murdering
megalomaniac goblin in a human body — I used magic to bury my repugnance,
project lustful thoughts, and intensify my physical reactions.

“Fuck me harder,” I encouraged him.

His technique, with my magic, quickly filled my body with the pulsating
energy that took me to the precipice of climax, a cliff edge from which I
gladly launched myself, and was lifted like a skyrocket to an explosive
culmination.

My response caused him to reach his own conclusion, and he filled me with
his copious essence. He wanted children, and my tardiness to provide the
gift was, from his perspective, the only negative aspect in our
relationship. Not that he put any pressure on me — he loved me too much,
but I’d felt his need. The reality was that any unnecessary delay
would need to be explained and defended. I knew of no reason to defer the
inevitable any longer. Though I had control of my fertility, when and by
whom I became pregnant, it was not something I expected to enjoy despite my
intention to use magic to remove the more onerous aspects that plague many
women. At most it would be awkward. Being with child might give me the
leverage I needed to control Mon Ilson’s ambitions and hopefully
mitigate the worst excesses of the invasion, if not avoid it
completely.

My husband’s kisses became more fervent, and he resumed his lusty
thrusts. He used his own magic to remain hard, and he fucked me to another
shattering climax. Another glut of his seed filled me to overflowing, and
those fireworks exploded in my head once more. We lay in each other’s
arms, his cock still rigid, while our ragged breathing slowly returned to
normal.

“My Lord,” Gloria said diffidently. While we recovered, she had
waited by the bed, head bowed, her hands clasped before her shaven quim.
Gloria had befriended me after I’d been first kidnapped. She was
blonde, with caramel eyes, and a deliciously curved mouth. Like all Lunarian
women who’d adopted a human body, Gloria was not only beautiful with a
spectacular bosom and narrow waist, but she was also obsessed with sex. I
gave her a smile, and she nodded acknowledgement. “Nil Ilson, I am so
sorry to interrupt. The humans have sent a vessel beyond the
atmosphere.”

Mon Ilson sat up. “Have they really?”

 

About the Author

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development
consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by
night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is
concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags
of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.

 

Contact Links

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

 

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Anvil of God Audiobook Tour

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Historical Fiction

Date Published: 1/18/2024

Narrator: Deborah Balm

Run Time: 15h 30 min

 

 

It is 741. Only one thing stands between Charles the Hammer and the
throne—he’s dying. Despite his best efforts, the only thing to reign
after Charles’s death is chaos. Son battles son, Christianity battles
paganism, and Charles’s daughter flees his court for an enemy’s love.

Based on a true story, Anvil of God is a whirlwind of love, honor,
sacrifice, and betrayal that follows a bereaved family’s relentless quest
for power and destiny.

 

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About the Author

J. Boyce Gleason

After a 25-year career working as a press secretary on Capitol Hill,
writing a weekly column for a daily newspaper, and managing crisis and
public affairs for many of the largest American corporations and
institutions, J. Boyce Gleason began writing historical fiction to satisfy
his passion for storytelling.

His first novel ANVIL OF GOD, Book One of the Carolingian Chronicles
received a starred review from Publishers Weekly, was named Historical
Fiction Book of the Year by the Independent Publishers Awards and
Mainstream/Literary e-Book of the Year by Writers Digest Magazine.  The
sequels (Wheel of the Fates & Crown of a King) both received 4.5 ratings
or better on Amazon.

With an AB in history from Dartmouth College, Gleason brings a strong
understanding of the events that shaped history. He says he writes
historical fiction to discover “why.” He and his wife live in
Virginia.

 

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Who’s Your Daddy Blitz

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Second Chances, Book 5

 

Romance

 

 

Peter Danahay is a playboy. Peter Danahay is a commitment-phobe. Peter
Danahay is the last person I would ever consider as a lifelong partner.
He’s a philanderer, the kind of guy my mother would’ve warned me
about and my dad would’ve stopped me from dating. Trouble is written
all over his face, yet women can’t seem to resist him.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but I, too, was unable to resist the
alluring charm of Peter Danahay. I fell hard, and I fell
fast…straight into bed with him. It was just supposed to be a
one-night stand, a quick roll in the sack. A day that was filled with verbal
jabs and little white lies led to an amazing night filled with unbridled
passion.

We were never supposed to see each other again, but Fate had other plans.
One minute I’m trying to get my life back on track, and the next I get
a curve ball thrown at me at supersonic speed. Two pink lines change our
lives, and now Peter Danahay is going to be my lifelong partner, whether we
like it or not.

Maybe we can make it work…that is until those little white lies
fester into something that isn’t so little anymore.

The Second Chances series

 

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It Just Had to be You

Second Chances, Book 1

 

My Debacle with De Lorenzo

Second Chances, Book 2

 

My Infatuation with Isabella

Second Chances, Book 3

 

It Should Have Been Me

Second Chances, Book 4

 

Who’s Your Daddy?

Second Chances, Book 5

 

Purchase Today

About the Author

Jacqueline Francis,

Number cruncher by day, raging romance novelist by night;
Jacqueline’s creative inspiration stems from romance and all its
literary and rom-com depictions. Matters of the heart are what fascinates
her, because ultimately, what makes a life out of – what would ordinarily be
a typical existence – is Love

 

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The Dove That Didn’t Return Virtual Book Tour

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Poetry

Date Published: May 21, 2024

Publisher: Holy Cow! Press

 

 

A poet and female commander in the Israeli Defense Forces creates an
original perspective from the war-torn front lines of the Middle East
conflict.

The Dove That Didn’t Return tackles the canon of war poetry, an
almost exclusively male-penned body of poems. In the book, biblical stories,
verses, and fragments are rewritten through the eyes of a female lieutenant
in the Israeli Army. It is a contemporary poetics on the revelations of war
from an Israeli perspective never before told—a woman, and a soldier
at that.

This debut full-length collection follows upon the publication of her
critically acclaimed chapbook, Between Sanctity and Sand, from Finishing
Line Press.

 

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EXCERPT 

BETWEEN SANCTITY AND SAND

 

The first time I shot an M-16

it was the heat of summer in the Negev.

Gas-operated with a rotating bolt, five-point-fifty-

six caliber, with nineteen bullets a box. 

I could shoot like an angel.

 I could hit a running target 

at six-hundred-fifty meters. 

I hummed to myself as I shot, 

I was eighteen. 

The retama flower of my hair-bun drawn back tight 

blooming, sprouting open with every green round.

 

 

About the Author

Yael S. Hacohen

Yael S. Hacohen earned a Ph.D. at UC Berkeley. She has received
research/teaching fellowships from Tel Aviv University and Bar Ilan
University. She has an MFA in Poetry from New York University, where she was
an
NYU Veterans Workshop Fellow, International Editor at Washington Square
Literary
Review, and Editor-in-Chief at Nine Lines Literary Review. Her work has
been featured or is forthcoming in The Poetry Review, Ploughshares, The
Missouri Review, Bellevue Literary Review, LIT, Prairie Schooner, New York
Quarterly Magazine, Colorado Review, and many more.
Hacohen published her chapbook Between Sanctity and Sand with Finishing
Line Press in 2021. Hacohen served as a lieutenant in the 162nd Armored
Division of the Israeli Defense Forces. She lives with her family in Tel
Aviv, Israel.

 

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The Ocean Hugs Hard Reveal

 

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Horror/Mystery

Date Published: 06-24-2024

Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing

 

 

Surfside City, New Jersey. 1966. Cub reporter Harman Bass is cutting his
teeth in the fast world of local journalism and getting out-scooped by the
competition. Facetious, cocky, and always quoting Nietzsche, Harman
isn’t making any friends both in and out of the newsroom.

All that changes when the daughter of a prominent family is found dead on
the beach, handing Harman the juiciest news story of the year. But she
wasn’t any old beauty pageant queen; she was his high school
girlfriend. Harman’s dogged reporting into the young woman’s
death reveals pushback from the authorities and pulls the newshound into the
resort’s darkest corners.

After one of his sources is murdered, the routine story becomes dangerous
and personal. Something watches Harman from the shadows, something ancient
and hungry, worshipped by powerful men who kill to keep their secrets.
Harman’s job and life are soon threatened, and the once brash reporter
must battle his boss, rival journalists, and his own sanity before filing
what could be his last story.

THE OCEAN HUGS HARD is a mystery with the salty whiff of the ocean, a tinge
of nostalgia, and a dollop of mind-shattering eldritch horror.

About the Author

ERIC AVEDISSIAN

ERIC AVEDISSIAN is an adjunct professor and speculative fiction author. His
published work includes the novels Accursed Son, Mr. Penny-Farthing,
Midnight at Bat Hollow, and the role-playing game Ravaged Earth. His short
stories appear in various anthologies, including Across the Universe, Great
Wars, and Rituals & Grimoires. Avedissian received a 2024 Fellowship in
Prose from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts. He lives in New Jersey
with his wife and a ridiculous number of books. Find him online at
www.ericavedissian.com if you dare.

 

Contact Links

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Twitter: @angryreporter

Instagram: @ericavedissian

 

 

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