Not In Use (#1)
LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Romance
Date to be Published: April 25, 2025
Publisher: Changeling Press
Love — and Magic — find desperate lovers in unlikely places.
Chase: It is a madness that draws Chase to the Louisiana bayou, leaving his
sister and his art studio behind. The fact that he longs to strip off his
clothes and run naked through the swamp with the wild creatures who live
there isn’t his first clue that something isn’t right with him… but it
just might be his last.
A Painter’s Price: Jason has studied the Painter for years, but when he
finally meets Eric he’s not prepared for the powerful erotic feelings the
artist provokes in him. His need to touch Erik slowly overrides every other,
until there is nothing he can do but surrender, mind, body and soul.
Rythan’s Becoming: Rythan knows he must harness his sexual energy and burn
through his shell to truly Become an adult. But Becoming also requires the
help of his catalysts, a pair of adults he’s never met, and water doesn’t
combine easily with fire and air. Can Rythan pass the final test and meet
his Destiny?
Excerpt from A Painter’s Price
Copyright ©2025 Kira Stone
This is one fine orgy. The self-congratulatory thought filtered through
Erik’s lust-fueled mind as he licked expensive red wine off the impressive
cock bobbing before his lips. Who his mystery lover was, Erik couldn’t say.
He had a nice meaty shaft, though. Not terribly long, but wide enough to
split a man open. Erik’s sphincter spasmed just from imagining the feel of
that thick cock sliding into him.
Salty-sweet pre-cum hit his tongue. He gave his lover’s ass a slap to bring
forth another drop. Nectar of the gods, as far as Erik was concerned. Every
man tasted different, and yet he loved them all.
“Oh, fuck me,” the man whimpered around his mouthful of Erik’s
cock.
“Not this time.”
The spirit was willing, but the body grew weak. He’d been going at it, in
one form or another, for several days now. The need for a long,
uninterrupted sleep gnawed at him. He was hard pressed to keep his eyes
open. Silently promising to make it up to his lover later, if he remembered,
Erik sucked in earnest.
His lover attempted to return the attention. Erik winced as teeth caught
his sensitive skin. All the more reason to end this quickly, he decided. At
the moment, this man needed more education than he had the patience
for.
His lover bucked and groaned under him. It didn’t take long to coax him
into orgasm. Seed spilled across Erik’s tongue in a honey-sweet river. He
drank down every last drop, feeling it was his due for the hard work he’d
put in.
Under his guidance, the man continued to pleasure him with hand and mouth.
Finally a weak orgasm rolled through Erik in quiet surrender, proving he’d
been right about his need for a lengthy respite. He might have stayed awake
long enough to mumble a word of praise before he lost himself in the warm,
dark embrace of sleep.
* * *
A cool breeze ripped through the room some time later. The long brocade
curtains surrounding the bed writhed, and the firelight flickered as though
it were about to die in its wake. That alone would not have disturbed Erik
from his well-earned slumber. No, a great booming voice startled him out of
a deep sleep.
“Since you love your art above all else, I hereby sentence you to an
eternity of creation.”
“What?” Fear trickled through the horrible hangover clouding
Erik’s brain. Though he couldn’t yet see the shadowy figure standing beside
the bed through his bloodshot eyes, he recognized the voice. The king’s mage
was not pleased, and that was never a good thing.
“For the rest of your life, you will produce some of the finest art
ever created.”
Well, that didn’t sound so bad. Painting was, after all, his passion.
“Errrr… thank you.”
A sneer entered the mage’s voice as he continued. “Your creative
energies will be your only sustenance. You will not eat or drink or sleep.
You will not be troubled by mortal weaknesses except on the one night a year
when the price of being the greatest painter alive must be paid to me, a
fragment of your inner spirit to be given to a vessel of my choosing. You
will exist solely to create… until your soul is empty.”
Now that last bit seemed a little extreme. Honestly, Erik didn’t know what
good his soul was doing for him, but he didn’t think it would be wise to go
around without one. “Is that really necessary? Painting is all I’m good
at anyway.”
“Painting… and debauchery. The king has lost all patience with
the discord you create among his court with your callous, self-indulgent
behavior. Could you not even leave the livestock alone?” the mage
muttered with disgust.
“That wasn’t me,” Erik protested as he tried to extract himself
from the tangle of limbs pinning him down. A small corner of his brain
wondered again who the bed belonged to, how long he’d been in it, and if his
host’s largess would hold out until he had a bite of bread and cheese, maybe
another mug of wine.
“Not in body, perhaps, but the act was done with your encouragement.
You sow depravity into the souls of the good people of this land, leaving a
trail of broken marriages and broken hearts behind. The king will have no
more of this debauchery!”
“I hardly think all the consequences of the court’s questionable
behavior can be blamed on me.” Erik looked around for his clothes, a
little intimidated to be talking to the king’s mage without a stitch on.
However, every garment he found smelled rank with spent passion. He flipped
the bed curtain over his lap instead. “I enjoy a good party. What soul
doesn’t? That’s human nature, not a crime.”
“The evidence is quite plain, and the king has rendered his judgment.
He left it to me to determine your punishment. After a fortnight of
observation, I see the only way to change your ways is to give you exactly
what you desire.”
Warning bells clamored in his head, but Erik couldn’t puzzle out exactly
what about that statement troubled him. “Would the king be satisfied if
I left the city for a few weeks?” Surely he could convince one of the
rich lords in the outlying districts to keep him sheltered and fed for a
month.
“Your departure might satisfy him, but it will not satisfy me. From
this day forth, you will breathe art, dine on creative passion, and survive
as long as your depraved, artistic soul can sustain you.” The mage’s
robes rippled as if an angry fall wind had whirled around him. “As I
will it, so mote it be,” the mage intoned with an earth-shaking
power.
And, just like that, Erik’s life transformed.
About the Author
Kira Stone has been around the block…the writer’s block, that
is.
From vamps and witches to historical heroes, from futuristic scientists to
paranormal corporate executives, from Canadian werewolves to off-world
shifters, Kira has written about them all. Manlove has sparked hot and heavy
in many of her plots, but Kira also finds a lucky lady to keep the sexy
heroes company from time to time. While Scotland remains her favorite place
in the world, Kira is constantly in search of new adventures to add to the
creative primordial ooze where her best stories are born.
Author Links
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress
