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Python Teaser Tuesday

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(Dixie Reapers MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: January 26, 2024

 

Galina – All my life I’ve been taught to obey men without
question, but when I find out my father has offered my hand in marriage to
Dima, a man who’s already killed two women, I know I’ve had
enough. The Vor offers me a chance to run, and I take it. Living with the
Dixie Reapers MC was supposed to be temporary. When I see one of the club
girls harassing Python, I step in. Maybe I shouldn’t have. I never
thought something so simple would become a complicated situation.

Python – All I wanted was to enjoy the single life forever.
Didn’t matter if the pretty little Russian caught my eye. I
wasn’t the type to settle down. Then she went and claimed me in front
of a club girl. The officers in my club are having far too much fun with
this. I’d planned to keep her at arm’s length — until I found
out she was in danger. With trouble breathing down her neck, I don’t
have a choice. I’ll make her mine in every way that matters. Anyone
dares to touch her, even the Bratva, and I’ll bury them.

WARNING: Python is intended for readers 18+ due to adult situations,
language, and violence.

EXCERPT

Python

 

I didn’t know what the hell the club officers were thinking. Yeah, I
knew the club had agreed to work with the Bratva when it came to helping
women in distress. I got it. They had my support one hundred percent. But
I’d thought we’d give them money, a new identity, and move them
along. So, why was this girl still here? In the past year, none of the women
had stayed longer than a night or two.

“What crawled up your ass?” Sticks asked.

We’d both patched in at the same time and had started prospecting
together as well. It had taken both of us a week or two to stop using our
real names around each other. There were times I still thought of him as
Will.

I pointed to the Russian girl. “Why is she still here?”

“You’d have to ask Grimm, or more accurately, his wife. Oksana
took a liking to Galina. It’s why she’s over there so
much.”

“Isn’t this just asking for trouble? It’s no secret
Oksana is here, or that we know where her mother and sister are located.
What if someone in the Bratva comes nosing around? Oksana might be
protected, but Galina isn’t.”

Sticks smacked me on the back. “Well, unless you’re
volunteering…”

Hell no. The last thing I needed was a woman. My gaze strayed to her again.
I had to admit she was pretty. Not gorgeous or even what I would call
beautiful. For some reason, there was still an innocence to her. How the
hell she’d grown up around the Bratva and not come out the other side
jaded was beyond me.

“Don’t let Wire and Lavender see you eying her like
that,” Sticks said. “You know what happens when they even get a
whiff of interest from one of us.”

I nearly shuddered. Yeah, that was the last thing I wanted to happen. I
tore my gaze away from Galina and went into the clubhouse. A cold beer was
exactly what I needed.

In the past year or two, a lot of changes had occurred not only here, but
with other clubs we called family or friends. Most had done away with the
club whores or set up a separate building for family events since so many
brothers were settling down. It made sense. If I did have a wife and kid, I
wouldn’t want them in the same space those dumb bitches spread their
legs.

As for the Dixie Reapers, this building was the one place you could still
find a woman. At least, after Wire and Lavender vetted them. Anyone wanting
to hang with us went through a background check these days. Too many little
ones running around to risk letting the wrong sort of person in. It had
happened too often already.

I grabbed a cold bottle of my favorite beer from behind the bar and sat at
a nearby table. Only two women were here at the moment, and I didn’t
want anything to do with either of them. Anna was the least clingy of the
two. Once I’d told her I wasn’t interested, she’d mostly
left me alone. Unless she thought I was drunk enough to give her a shot. The
other… Penny was a menace. The woman always latched on and
wouldn’t let go.

I’d no sooner thought her name than she spotted me and headed over.
If I wasn’t trying to keep away from Galina outside, I’d have
left the building like my ass was on fire. Anything to avoid the bitch who
wanted a property cut. And yeah, we all knew what her end game was, even if
she denied it. We could see it in her eyes.

“Did you come here to see me?” she asked, leaning toward me.
The woman practically shoved her tits in my face, and I barely dodged.

“Nope. Wanted a beer.”

She batted her eyes. “You could have had one of those at home. You
know you don’t have to be shy. I’ll give you anything you
want.”

I’d bet she would, and probably something else I most certainly
didn’t want or need right now. A baby in her belly. Bitch was crazy as
fuck, and I wouldn’t put it past her to get pregnant on purpose. I
finished my beer and got up to use the bathroom, hoping she’d be gone
when I got back. No such luck. She’d not only made herself
comfortable, but she’d gotten two beers. The way she licked at one of
them told me it was hers. And if it hadn’t been, it was now.

I stared at the open bottles. We always cautioned women not to accept open
containers. Someone at the Hades Abyss had learned not too long ago men
needed to be wary too. Cotton had gotten screwed over and still hadn’t
recovered from what happened.

“I didn’t spit in it,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Wasn’t my concern.”

She huffed and took the bottle. After swallowing a mouthful, she handed it
back to me. “Not poisoned either.”

Fine. I might very well regret this later, but I didn’t want to make
a big deal out of it. Slayer and Royal were both across the room. Last thing
I needed was them calling me a little bitch or some shit. I drank the beer
quickly, then stood.

“I’m afraid I’m not good company today.” I made my
way to the front door. Partway there, the room started to tilt and spin.
What the fuck?

I stumbled out onto the porch and down the steps. The entire world looked
like I’d entered a funhouse tunnel. Shaking my head, I tried to make
sense of where I was. The line of bikes blurred and I couldn’t tell
one from another.

A small hand gripped mine and I started to shake it off, until I heard the
soft Russian accent.

“Let me help you.”

Galina. I let her lead me away, but we didn’t make it far before I
heard Penny yelling out my name.

“Wait for me, Python!”

Galina put her lips near my ear and spoke in a low voice. “Do you
want to wait for her?”

“No.”

She gave a nod and helped me walk a little farther. I hadn’t realized
it before, but the car the club had given her sat at the end of the row of
bikes. I didn’t know why she’d parked there, but right now I was
grateful.

“Hey, bitch! Where are you taking my man?” Penny
screamed.

Galina stopped and I felt her turn. She didn’t release me. Only
switched to her other hand, as if she worried I might fall. She wasn’t
wrong. At any moment I could land on my ass. Although, I didn’t think
the pint-size woman was going to be able to hold me up.

“Your man?” she asked. She spit out a string of Russian that
sounded like she was cussing the woman out and I couldn’t hold back my
smile. Even though I felt like shit, I had to admit I liked seeing this side
of Galina. “He’s not yours. He’ll never be
yours.”

Penny sputtered, and it sounded like she was coming closer. Galina managed
to get me to her car and into the passenger seat. She slammed the door about
the time Penny stopped beside her. I couldn’t hear what Galina was
saying, but I could tell from the tone she was pissed. She lit into Penny,
and if I hadn’t thought I might pass out or throw up, I’d have
found it hysterical. She’d done the one thing I hadn’t been able
to. Mostly because I’d have felt like shit. Although, now that I was
certain the bitch had drugged me, I wouldn’t hold back. In fact, once
this passed, I was going to talk to the Pres and get that woman booted
permanently.

Galina got into the car and backed up. Penny ran around to put herself in
front, and Galina revved the engine. I heard the tires spin right before the
car shot forward. My eyes felt so heavy they slid shut, and I missed the
look on Penny’s face. Galina didn’t slow for a few minutes. My
house was toward the back of the compound, and the moment she came to a
stop, I knew she’d brought me home.

She shut off the car and I heard her get out. She opened my door and placed
her hand on my arm.

“Can you stand?” she asked. “Should I get
help?”

Oh fuck no. “My brothers will laugh if they know about
this.”

Shit. That’s right. If I told the Pres, then… I’d have
to think about it tomorrow. Right now, I wasn’t sure how much longer
I’d stay coherent, or able to stand. Galina helped me from the car,
and we walked up to my door. I couldn’t seem to get my keys out of my
pocket.

I felt her hand slide in and grasp the keyring, but it wasn’t all she
touched. Groaning as my cock went rock-hard, I wondered if I’d just
been dumped straight into hell. She froze and I could feel her staring at
me, even if I couldn’t manage to open my eyes.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

She pulled out my keys and got the door open. I tripped over the threshold
and barely stayed upright. Her small hand grasped mine tightly as she led
the way through my home. It was almost as if she knew exactly where she was
going. When we reached my bedroom, I sank onto the side of the bed, and she
kneeled at my feet. Fuck if that didn’t screw with my drug-addled
brain.

She set my boots beside the nightstand, then helped me get my cut off. I
tried to watch her, but the world was spinning too much. Closing my eyes, I
fell back on the mattress. My legs still hung off the side, but I
didn’t care.

“Python, what happened? Should I get someone?”

“Drugged.” At least, I tried to say it. Not sure how it sounded
to her. I could tell my words slurred and my tongue felt heavy. What the
hell had Penny planned to accomplish with me in this state? Then again,
I’d gotten hard when Galina brushed against my cock. It seemed that
part of me worked, even if the rest didn’t.

She did her best to get me all the way onto the bed, and I heard her
panting for breath when she’d finished. I didn’t know what Penny
had dosed me with, so I had no clue how long this would last. The thought of
lying here alone, unable to even get up if I needed to puke or take a piss,
bothered me. That bitch was going to pay when I got through this.

“Stay,” I said, or tried to. Galina seemed to understand. I
felt the bed dip as she sat beside me.

My movements were clumsy, but I managed to pull her down beside me. I
attempted to wrap my arm around her, to hold her closer, but failed
miserably. She sighed and inched closer.

“When I thought of my first time in bed with a man, this wasn’t
what I had in mind,” she said.

My head felt too foggy for her words to really sink in. First time? Wait.
“Virgin?”

She buried her face against my side. “Stop. Don’t make fun of
me.”

Before I could say anything else, the darkness started to pull me
under.

 

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

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

Pre-Order Today

 

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The Pleasure Seeker Virtual Book Tour

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Literary Fiction

Date Published: Sept.2023

 

 

Dayal Singh is brilliant, quirky, & has Asperger’s. Son of parents
trafficked to East Africa from India just before independence, he knows he’s
Sikh, African, and calculus is the evidence of God.

He becomes fascinated by a broken piano. and is offered a piano to sell,
buys it and learns to play.

Mentored by his older brothers, he follows them to Singapore to further his
education, then goes to Switzerland.

He falls in love with the granddaughter of the man who bought his father.
She tells him that the situation is impossible, and that he must stay in
school as long as his way is paid.

His youth is fraught, being an other. In Switzerland, he is constantly
proselytized to, which only defines for him how he wants to live. He’s
studying physics and engineering, but finds peace in playing the piano. He
meets other students, they jam, and suddenly they are rock stars…which
Dayal never imagined could happen.

He agrees to meet Sita, the daughter of a Sikh man his father met, and
Dayal thinks they are both in agreement about how they will live and raise
children, but things gradually go downhill. When Dayal learns Sita hasn’t
been truthful with him, he has to make a decision.

 

The Pleasure Seeker paperpack

EXCERPT

The song I wrote, “Is This OK?” was a hit. We got it out as a single, and added it to shows. We started in Boston and zigzagged through large cities in Canada, the USA, and Mexico, then to Spain and France. We broadcasted live shows to theaters around the USA, San Jose, Lima, Buenos Aires, Sydney, Perth, and Brasilia, and Japan. I wrote the Glazer girls, but there was no way I could see them.
At the end of the tour in August, I flew to Dubai for a week. We hadn’t seen each other since December! I couldn’t imagine where Sita got the idea that there was so much to do in Dubai. Was she comparing it to Mumbai? I noticed the town was growing. There were triple the number of buildings, many quite tall. We got out to the desert for camel races, where I saw my first Salukis. I thought they looked like Mara’s dogs. They ran a few races, and were so graceful. We went out to eat, saw movies, strolled the mall, the beach, met her girlfriends (she knew no guys and did not socialize with the girls’ brothers or husbands), had dinner with Baba Makkar’s other family, and we talked more about our expectations. Again, I asked her if she had explored birth control methods, and hit a road block.
“You know, a lot of women use the rhythm method based on their cycles and it works,” she said to me.
“Do you know how it works? I will use condoms, but you need to know your options.”
We had no arguments, but our conversations were never about anything controversial or deep. She wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup anymore, at least not when I saw her. She told me she had started saving her allowance, and was even going through her wardrobe to decide what clothes she would really need, as the weather would be different in Europe.
We weren’t sleeping together in Dubai, but we could bring each other to orgasm, and I was happy for that.
I asked Fatima about how the wedding planning was going, and she told me she was thinking of next March.
Seven months more? “Why are you delaying this?”
“Your horoscopes… .”
“This is nonsense. We’ve known each other over a year. I have a school break in November. Make it for then.” I found this irritating, but when I was stressed, and back then, it was almost all the time, everything was irritating.
I really wanted to see my parents. I was halfway there, being in Dubai, so I asked Fatima and Sita to come with me. Mr. Makkar agreed to pay for their flights if I would pay for a place for them to stay, which was at Mr. Curtis’s hotel. A few other small hotels had been built, but Curtis’ place was still the nicest.
I surprised my parents (I did send a telegram). I sent Sita and Fatima on several safari runs, suggested they have my tailor create some clothes for themselves, and took them around in the truck to see Alfred. I brought him a solar lantern, a few books on alternative energy, and a football and badminton set for his three children, who were giddy about the gifts.
Fatima and Sita were surprised at how far out from Arusha Alfred lived. When we pulled into their compound, Fatima asked me, “They speak English?”
“Alfred was in primary school with me, and he often guides safaris, so I know his English is good. I’m not sure about the rest of his family.” I spoke to his wife and children in Kiswahili.
Alfred and I discussed putting in a rain catchment system on his house. He had managed to build a burned brick house with a cement floor and tin roof, but still had his rondoval. His wife and daughters still had to fetch water. I told him I’d loan him the money if he agree to pay it forward.
Sita and Fatima seemed uncomfortable with the goats, chickens and dogs approaching us in their curiosity. Alfred’s mum offered us chai and mandaazi, which is a fried pastry. I saw that Fatima and Sita were hesitant, but I whispered to them, “Everything’s boiled or fried. You won’t get sick.”
On the way back to town, we stopped at a Maasai encampment. I just wanted to greet them, and I had bought them a few plastic buckets. We didn’t stay long. The flies were too annoying, and there was no place to sit.
On the drive back to my folks, Sita and Fatima commented how remarkable it was that people could live like they did and be so happy. Sita asked me, “How is it you have a relationship with such primitive people?”
Her question shocked me. “They aren’t primitive. They’re just poor. You know, they haven’t had the advantages we’ve had.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Maasai like living the way they do. They are free. Their children do all the chores. As for Alfred, I had my older brothers to help me learn. Alfred was the eldest child. He had nobody to help him. Also, his father had two wives, so resources for the children were spread thin.”
My parents were cordial towards Sita and Fatima. However, I knew from the way they were acting, that they weren’t comfortable. There was a real class difference between us and them. Baba pulled me aside and asked, “They knew they were coming to Africa. Why didn’t they dress more simply?”
I remembered the time Avi and Sodhi came home after guiding safaris one day, and were counting their tips in various foreign currencies. Sodhi remarked that most of the tourists on his lorry were French, and Avi responded, laughing, “Today mine were all Italian. They always dress like they’re going to a photo shoot. The women, always silk shirts unbuttoned to show cleavage and gold necklaces, tight silk pants that look painted on, and stiletto heels. Not just high heels—pointy six inch heels. They tottered and had to be boosted into the lorry. I can’t imagine what they were thinking. That the ground would be hard so they wouldn’t sink in?”
My future wife and mother-in-law were dressed as if going to a business luncheon, and I wondered if they owned any clothes that didn’t need to be dry cleaned.
“Baba, these people live in a tall building. They don’t even have a garden. These are their ‘simple’ clothes.” He understood this because he had visited my brothers.
I had been living in Europe as a European and just accepted that some people never did any real work. This was also why I took time to address expectations with Sita.
Hassan had brought one of his wives to live with him, and she was helping Ama with baking. Fatima expressed surprise that my mother could bake such amazing things over a grill in a covered pot.

 

About the Author

Robyn Michaels

I am retired dog groomer and have titled dogs in performance and
conformation. I didn’t go to college until I was 30, and took CLEP exams to
avoid prerequisites. I have a degree in anthropology with concentrations in
African & Indian studies, and a master’s in urban planning. I was
a Peace Corps Volunteer in Malawi. I have had several short stories
published in literary journals, and the pet industry press.

 

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How to Grow a Marshmallow Tree Blitz

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Children’s Book

Date Published: Nov 14, 2023

 

Join Amelia and her best friend, Paco the polar bear, on a tooth-aching
adventure in a world where cotton candy clouds and ice cream slides are just
the beginning.

When they are almost running out of their favorite treat, marshmallows,
Amelia’s wild imagination leads the friends to an idea: a marshmallow
tree!

But can you really grow a tree from a marshmallow? With a dash of school
knowledge, a sprinkle of sugar, and some really bad dentist jokes, Amelia
and Paco are determined to find out.

About the Author

Stefanie Gamarra

Stefanie Gamarra, full-time project manager, part-time marshmallow tree
cultivator, has officially added ‘children’s book author’ to her list of
LinkedIn titles. While originally from Germany, she now calls the US home
and peppers her debut children’s book, ‘How to Grow a Marshmallow Tree,’
with a blend of transatlantic charm and humor.

She finds her greatest critics (and inspiration) in her two little ones,
whose laughs and sticky marshmallow-covered kisses are the only literary
recognition she’s after.

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The Mighty Solar Panel Blitz

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Because Nothing’s More Powerful than a Sunny Day!

Children’s Book

Date Published: September 19, 2022

 

A fun and engaging educational story that teaches children how to harness
the incredible power of our sun!

It seems just like any other car journey to the beach, but when Jack passes
a field full of solar panels, he starts to wonder what on earth these
strange things could be.

Thanks to his new friend, Sunny, a talking sunbeam travelling down from the
sun, Jack is turned into a ray of light himself and soon learns about the
process of turning the sun’s energy into power that everyone can
use.

By teaching him about what solar panels are used for and how solar power
could save the world, Sunny shows Jack how exciting and amazing clean energy
can be.

With a focus on the importance of renewable energy, the alternative it
provides to fossil fuels and the unique process of using solar panels to
power our homes, The Mighty Solar Panel is an invigorating story which will
kick-start a child’s interest in the significance of going
green.

Are you and your children ready to learn about the limitless power of solar
energy? Then grab your copy of The Mighty Solar Panel, today!

★★★★★
“Great little book for getting the kids into learning about the
benefits of renewable power!” – Reader Review

About the Author

Daniel Jarrett

As the CEO of a solar panel installation company, Daniel Jarrett is devoted
to sharing his passion and expertise with a whole new generation.

With his children’s book, The Mighty Solar Panel, he is dedicated to
educating a young audience about the importance of clean energy and solar
power.

Living in Brisbane, Australia, Daniel is motivated by his family, his
passion for sales and his love for telling stories. He hopes to use his
writing to encourage open discussion and give young people access to ideas
that they might never have come across before.

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From Sick to Healed Blitz

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The Wonderful Miracles of the Turban Girls

Children’s Book, Christian

Date Published: December 28, 2023

 

From Sick to Healed is an endearing story of hope and miracles that follows
the journey of a brave girl named Stacy, who faces the daunting challenge of
leukemia. Through her unwavering faith in Jesus and the power of prayer, she
experiences the miraculous healing power of God.

This touching story not only illustrates Stacy’s resilience but also
highlights the profound impact of friendship as she shares her faith and
teaches her friend, Naomi, the love of God for them and the wonders of
prayer. Witness the transformative power of God as Stacy and Naomi overcome
illness through their unyielding trust in Jesus.

 

🌟
Experience the inspiring journey of Stacy and Naomi’s miraculous
healing.

🌟
Discover the incredible strength found in faith and friendship.

🌟
Embrace the message of hope and the power of God through prayer for children
and families facing challenges.

Join Stacy and Naomi on their incredible journey and learn the invaluable
lesson that Jesus still performs miracles, even today!

About the Author

Latoya Shea

Being on her own after being homeless at the age of 13, Latoya has
experienced and triumphed over many obstacles.

Inspired by the many that has influenced her life, she has lived a life
dedicated to service and education. This has led her on a deep spiritual
journey and intimacy with God.

She has been known by many titles such as health inspector, veteran, nurse
Anesthetist, prophet, teacher, until she finally accepted her calling as
God’s vessel to do good and guide many back to Him as a Spiritual Life
Coach.

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