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In His Dreams Teaser

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Paranormal Romance, LGBTQ

Date Published: October 4, 2024

 

 

 

For three centuries, Nara’s existence has revolved around providing sexual
gratification to men not of her choosing. As a concubine enslaved by a
brutal master she knows only as the Conqueror, Nara can do nothing but obey
his every cruel whim. But a hundred years ago, Nara discovered where her
real talents lie. She can invade dreams; and in those dreams, she’s the one
in control. Not the men whose thoughts she pervades. Not the Conqueror. Just
her.

Rafe Osmond is a Dream Walker committed to eradicating every last trace of
dream ragers, those whose dark arts not only terrorize, but also kill
innocent dreamers. After he watches Nara terrifying a man she’s recently
serviced, Rafe sets off after her — with a vengeance. But when he finds
her, he also stumbles upon a long-forgotten temple steeped in ancient
mystery, and a terrifying evil.

Together, Rafe and Nara must destroy a power darker and deadlier than
either of them imagined. But first, Rafe must convince Nara that there is
more to dreams than ravages of pain and whimpers of terror… and to do
that, he has to show her unbelievable pleasure…

In His Dreams tablet

 

 

EXCERPT

 

“You think you’re ready for this?”

Rafe Osmond took a deep, steadying breath and closed his eyes. The pillow
beneath his head felt soft and inviting, but his body hummed with
anticipation. How could Master Choeki expect him to fall asleep? He licked
his suddenly dry lips. “I’m ready.”

He felt the dip in the mattress as the Master sat down beside him and
leaned over to light a candle on the nightstand. “Good. Remember what
I’ve taught you.”

“Patience, kindness, strength,” Rafe repeated for the thousandth
time. “We are dream walkers. People count on us to dispel dark dreams,
to preserve their sanity. I won’t forget.”

“And if you encounter a rager?”

“I’ll stop him. At any cost.”

Master Choeki grunted his approval and rose from the bed. “Sleep. I’ll
be here when you return.”

Rafe folded his hands across his chest and waited for sleep to come. He’d
been training at the Dream Academy for three years. Since the day he’d first
presented himself to the Master, they’d entered dreams together, rescued
dreamers from themselves countless times, but they’d never encountered a
rager. Sometimes, Rafe wasn’t sure whether the stories of powerful creatures
who killed humans in their dreams were even true. He’d never seen one. The
Master had told him that when his abilities became strong enough, he’d be
able to sense a rager from a distance, without even having to enter a
dream.

If his current abilities were any indication, it would be a long time
before that happened.

* * *

Rafe didn’t remember falling asleep. One moment he was lying on the
training bed in the Dream Academy, and the next, he was here, standing in a
brightly lit restaurant.

White linen tablecloths, napkins and pristine table settings awaited
patrons, but the place was empty. Crystal glasses caught the light from the
overhead chandelier and fragmented it in a rainbow of colors that splashed
over the pale walls, leading Rafe’s gaze to the large window overlooking the
street. Outside, the city looked deserted. Moonlight played in puddles, and
rain fell with heavy drops on the pavement, but there were no people huddled
under umbrellas, no cabs honking as they sped down city streets.

A soft moan caught his attention, and he spun around quickly, scanning the
restaurant. “Hello? Anyone here?” Another groan echoed through the
room, followed by a giggle and a soft gasp.

Rafe’s pulse raced as he moved forward. Just his luck to stumble into an
erotic dream on his first night alone. He’d encountered a few when
accompanied by Master Choeki, but they’d never lingered long. Sensual dreams
rarely turned into nightmares.

He spotted the couple at last, in a corner booth at the back of the
restaurant. He walked toward them slowly, trying to stay in the shadows as
much as possible. There had to be a reason his dream talent led him here.
Sometimes, his ability to sense nightmares was triggered by a false alarm,
nothing more than a rough edge to sex play. Other times, the possibility of
a nightmare was real. Dreams could turn dark in the blink of an eye, often
without the dreamer’s knowledge or consent. That’s why he was here. To watch
over the dreamer and protect them.

And to destroy dream ragers. The Master’s voice echoed in Rafe’s head, and
he waved it away. He didn’t sense a dream rager. Not that he knew what
sensing one was supposed to feel like, but he assumed it had to be hostile,
dark, powerful. A strong sensation of malevolent evil would crawl up his
spine. There was none of that here. Just two lovers indulging in a little
fun.

He inched closer to get a better look. What could it hurt, lingering for a
moment or two? He’d move on soon. The Master would never know he dallied
here.

He stopped breathing when he caught sight of a woman’s shapely behind. His
cock stiffened instantly as he took in her long legs, wide hips, slender
waist, and smooth coppery skin. Hair the color of dark, rich honey had been
swept into an untidy heap on top of her head. He took another step forward,
hoping for a glimpse of her face. He wished she’d turn around, but she was
busy sucking a stiff cock.

Her lover lay on his back on one of the white linen tablecloths Rafe had
admired earlier, hands folded behind his head, eyes closed, mouth parted in
ecstasy.

Rafe’s hand moved to his cock. He palmed the stiff length, hoping for a
little relief. He knew he should leave, but couldn’t. Not yet. How often
would he have a chance to witness something like this?

The woman released her lover’s cock. It slid from her mouth with a loud
pop, and she turned to face Rafe. Her features were even more beautiful than
he’d expected. Long, black lashes framed gold-rimmed dark eyes. High
cheekbones and full lips suggested an exotic background. He expected ire, or
shock at the very least, but got neither. Instead, she moved forward and
grasped his hand, tugging him close to her. “Are you here to stop
me?”

Rafe’s mouth was suddenly dry. “I’m here to save you.”

She laughed, the sound low and sensual. “Really? My hero.” Her
tone held neither sarcasm nor anger. “I hope you can stay a
while.”

“Who are you?” His thoughts felt sluggish as she pressed her
naked body against him. He felt her hard nipples graze his chest even
through the shirt he wore and he stifled a groan.

“I’m Nara. This is Vince.”

“Vinny,” the man corrected. He sat up, casting a bewildered stare
at Rafe. “Who’s this?”

“Our rescuer, apparently,” Nara said before Rafe could reply.
“Though I’m not yet sure what he’s supposed to be saving us
from.”

With quick, expert motions, she unzipped his jeans and slid them over his
hips. His briefs followed. “I really can’t stay.”

“Sure you can.” She gripped his hand and placed it over her sex.
Shaved bare, her skin felt deliciously warm and all too inviting. His cock
pulsed. A shudder trembled through his body.

It’s only a dream.

Dreams were as real as the dreamer made them. This wasn’t his dream, but it
didn’t mean he couldn’t share in the dreamer’s delight.

Only a dream, he repeated to himself. What can it hurt?

 

 

About the Author

Award-winning author Lacey Savage loves to write about her dreams — or
more specifically, she loves to breathe life into her steamy fantasies (and
she’s got plenty!). She pens erotic tales of true love and mythical destiny,
peopled with strong alpha heroes and feisty heroines. A hopeless romantic,
Lacey loves writing about the intimate, sensual side of relationships. She
currently resides in Ottawa, Canada, with her mischievous husband and their
loving cat.

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today

 

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Uncertain Foundations Teaser Tuesday

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LGBTQ, Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Date Published: May 17, 2024

 

 

They’ve been there for each other through death and life, through
pain and joy. Their love life has held them together through all external
dangers. But what happens when the threat seems to come from within?

Charlie, half werewolf, has never felt so uncertain. Everything he’s
trusted in — his eyesight, his psychic ability, his confidence in making
decisions — is under attack. Even his mate, his Life dancer, Luis, seems
untrustworthy.

Luis, a psychic vampire, is consumed by terror and paranoia. Unable to tell
fact from fiction, and feeling Charlie pulling away, he lashes out.

These two lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on
unsteady ground. Can their love prevail despite the terror working its way
through the pack?

 

Uncertain Foundations phone

EXCERPT

Luis stood his back to a wall. He gazed across the crowded room to his Life
Dancer, who was shaking hands with Princess Angelina Oakland. Scanning the
princess’s living room quickly, Luis noted the approaching dawn
lightening the sky in the east and the Pakistani land dragon speaking
quietly with Claudette, the water dragon from Western New York. He felt like
a stalker, watching all these people in their final moments of conversation
and leave-taking, but he wouldn’t let Charlie, his Life Dancer, be
alone. Too much had happened during this last delegate gathering.

“Go downstairs,” Charlie said, turning his head away from the
princess to meet Miguel’s gaze. The blood-dependent vampire, slave to
the darkness of night, was swaying on his feet.

“You are leaving,” Miguel said.

“This morning,” Charlie agreed.

“I wanted to say thank you.” He nodded to Princess Angelina.
“To you as well, Your Highness. I have lived without hope for many
years. To have it again is a marvelous blessing. And it wouldn’t have
been possible, Tilthos Charles, without your assistance.”

“You’re welcome, but if you thank me again, I’m going to
have to demand payment.” Charlie sounded more concerned than flippant
despite his words. “Go. Down. Stairs. We’ll meet
again.”

Miguel shook hands with both of them and headed from the room.

He passed close to Luis and said softly, “Your lover is a beacon of
hope.” Then he was gone.

Luis watched Charlie making the rounds of the other magical creatures in
the room. All of these others were ignoring Luis, as if he was just a
bodyguard. That suited Luis just fine. Charlie didn’t really need his
protection, not in this room, and not usually in the world at large. The
leader of all the werewolves on this and the southern continent was only
half werewolf, and visually impaired also, but he’d held his position
without others defending him for over half a decade. He was confident. He
was strong.

And sexy as hell.

Luis firmly turned his thoughts from that particular channel because some
of the magical creatures gathered here had great senses of smell.
They’d know he was aroused if he allowed himself the luxury of
thinking of his Life Dancer without clothes on.

Charlie’s thoughts drifted through Luis’s mind, his psychic
tone lightly teasing. I think it’s too late for you to hide
anything.

Luis smirked and thought back, Good.

Gradually, the heads of this or that species left, taking their chauffeured
rides to private airplanes. Agent Jack Sowerby would be meeting some of them
at Baltimore-Washington International Airport, but some wouldn’t allow
the new head of SearchLight to see them off. Claudette, the water dragon,
was one of these, preferring to keep her exact departure a secret.

Luis knew she was flying out of Dulles, the airport south of here in
Virginia, but he was a tracker. It was his job to know the comings and
goings of those who might be a threat to SearchLight. Or to his Life
Dancer.

As the room emptied, he wondered if the princess would let him and Charlie
have one last fling in the bedroom she’d set aside for them. Although,
even if she did, Charlie might not want to hang around. He was anxious to
get back to their displaced pack.

“Tilthos Charles, do you need to rest before starting on your drive
home?” Princess Angelina asked as if she’d read Luis’s
mind. He didn’t think she had telepathy, and his shields were mostly
up anyway.

“That would be a better question for Luis, since I can’t
drive,” Charlie said, sounding amused. He tapped the end of his white
cane on the parquet floor. “Thank you, but I think we should get
going.”

Luis thought, keeping it hidden from his Life Dancer, Damn. And I was
hoping to be driving without blue balls.

Still, he had to admit he wanted to get home. And not just so that the
Tilthos Pack could return from where they’d been scattered to when all
the dominant protectors were occupied here in DC and Maryland. Luis had
concerns about those pack members here: Jeremy, Ethan, and Charlie.

Jeremy and Ethan would be driving back at some point soon, but first, Ethan
needed to regain his human shape. He’d taken to sticking close to
Jeremy and their son, Will, but in his werewolf guise. It was as if he
thought being in four-footed would somehow protect him from further
pain.

Luis had absolutely no doubt Jeremy would take care of his mate. The Night
Wanderer was protective anyway, and since Ethan had been forced to —

“Luis?”

He blinked, startled out of his thoughts by his Life Dancer calling his
name. Charlie stood about ten feet away, his gaze unfocused, as it always
was when he wasn’t trying to read some large print or looking at a
picture eight-year-old Will had drawn.

Luis crossed to him and touched his shoulder. “What is it?” he
asked gently.

“I guess you missed the change in plans.”

Luis smiled guiltily. “I was lost in my own world.”

“I realized –” Charlie said, lowering his voice and bending so
he could put his mouth next to Luis’s ear. “I need you before we
head out.”

Luis’s cock raised its head and he felt his asshole constrict in
anticipation. “Not here,” he ventured.

“Well, in this house, but, no, not in the living room. If we stained
any of her pillows or cushions, I’m sure Angelina would throw us out
and bill us through the nose.” He took Luis’s hand, pressing the
shaft of the white cane between their palms. “Will you guide
me?”

Luis knew Charlie didn’t mean that literally. He was independent to a
fault, was Tilthos Charles McLaughlin, alpha above all alphas. But having
Charlie make the request made Luis harder still. He kissed Charlie’s
palm and then encouraged him to take his arm.

Swinging his cane out before his feet, Charlie “followed” Luis
up the stairs and down the hall. The warmth of his hand, firm on the back of
Luis’s arm, was ambrosia to the anxiety Luis had been feeling for the
last week or so. Charlie trusted him. He glanced back and saw
Charlie’s eyes were closed and his cane no longer touched the floor.
He was letting Luis guide him completely.

Luis’s heart rose and he swallowed against sudden, stupid tears.
Te amo, Charlie,” he whispered.

A mischievous smile lit Charlie’s dark and handsome features.
“Of course, you do.”

Luis snorted. But before he could retort, Charlie stopped walking and
pulled Luis into a tight embrace. Luis inhaled, loving the scent of his
lover’s aftershave.

“I love you too. Now, come on. I need you.”

 

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a
host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,”
Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a
passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central
or on her website.

Contact Links

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

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

 

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Sleeping Dragon Preorder Blitz

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Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, LGBTQ

Date Published: April 19, 2024

 

 

Youltan lives a life of obligation and service, a slave to the desires of
others, harnessing the strange and powerful chaotic energies known as Ice
Magic. After a final betrayal by the people he protects, he finds himself
transported to the one being who holds the key to his freedom.

The wards tattooed across Garyn’s back ensure his total compliance,
trapping him in his own form of slavery, until one of the traitorous Mages,
the kind that devised this tortuous penance, is placed in his prison. Now
manipulating his way to freedom rules the sex-shifting dragon’s mind.

Garyn never expects Youltan to willingly sacrifice so much for a person he
barely knows. Nor does he expect to find the a core of passionate heat that
exists deep within Youltan’s soul. The fight for survival takes on new
dimensions and strains the very threads of their honor and morality.

But what would you expect….when you prod a Sleeping Dragon?

 

Sleeping Dragon Preorder paperback

 

EXCERPT

 

Feet braced apart, arms extended to their maximum length, he stood and
waited. There was nothing in his mind; his world was a blank slate, waiting
to be filled, waiting for the agonizing pleasure… and the horrific
pain.

Slowly, it began, drawing its energy from the very earth on which he stood.
Pulsing writhing ropes of energy, of magic, of power, twined around
themselves as they sought a rod, a bearer for their might.

Around his ankles they looped, slowly, like some starving creature seeking
sustenance. And what they found seemed to please them, for they began to
roll up the length of his body. Faster and faster they twined, their colors
the brilliant blue that exists in the heart of every fire, the icy white of
the coldest glacier, a sharp glaze of power blinding all who dared watch
this spectacle.

Up around his knees they crept, gaining confidence and speed with every
second. On and on, around his waist, over his chest, across his shoulders
until his head jerked back as if snapped by some unknown entity.

Blood-red lips parted, a scream locked within a frozen throat, and a fall
of silver white hair blew madly around his form in a wind created by power
and magic. Bright lavender eyes snapped open to reveal luminescent sparks of
pure white that illuminated those strange orbs, the eyes of an alien-one,
and the eyes of the demented.

Then the power seemed to lash out at its conduit, raising him to his toes
as wave after wave of pure energy penetrated his body, gained a purpose,
grew in its strength.

His body arched, his arms flying above his head as the sheer strength of
the thing that possessed him brought him to his toes, building and building
until his whole person was one shining, glowing being that seemed almost too
beautiful to view, yet too sinister and compelling to look away from.

Suddenly, a cry erupted from his throat, loud, agonized. The cry echoed
over the land as the very earth began to quake beneath his feet.

His piercing scream startled the onlookers, the curious who had gathered to
view this unusual feat, to watch what both heaven and hell had wrought and
then left to travel this land that they called their own.

But they were too stunned to look away, transfixed.

As he continued to scream, cry after cry of ecstatic pain, the energy that
converged on his body began to coagulate, to meld into one large beam of
power.

Still screaming, he forced his arms toward the pulsing dome that surrounded
the land, the thing that honor and history demanded he tend to, no matter
the cost.

His sudden silence was almost as unnerving as his screams had been, as the
world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, as the tension built around
the young man, as the very gods seemed to tremble in fear.

Then, as the tension built to a plateau, then nothing. Soon the people
began to breathe easy, thinking the show was over, then one final
high-pitched scream exploded from his mouth.

And with that cry, a monstrous beam of light and power leapt from his body.
Blue, silver, white, it all mended and swirled as warring colors shot from
his body, his eyes, his mouth, following its given path, striking the
shields with an audible crash that almost sounded like the shrieking cry of
pure crystal shattering.

His body gave way in the face of such a massive energy burst, but the power
would not let his body fall. It supported him, swirled around him almost
lovingly, then began to drain the very life force from his body.

Head tossed back to its farthest, hair whipping around that face, obscuring
its near beauty from the frightened yet silent watchers, his body bowed and
his knees bent as he fought to retain some of himself from the hungry
energies that sought to leach his very essence from his body.

Trembling and panting, he whimpered once as the beam began to lose its
brilliant illumination, then faded altogether, growing weaker and weaker as
the conduit struggled to reclaim part of himself from the massive outpouring
of power.

Then, suddenly, almost as if it had never been, the beam of light
dispersed, exploded into a million glittering sparkles, before disappearing
cleanly from sight.

With a groan, the conduit dropped to his knees, his body falling backwards
as all the energy seemed to leave with the passing of the beam.

He knelt there, supple body bent backwards, breath struggling in his chest,
as his strange, lavender eyes drifted shut.

Then, as he took his first full breath, the watchers were amazed to see a
shadowy mist exhaled into the brilliant heat of the day, a breath that
seemed as cold as the arctic islands they once harnessed to create that
shield that protected them from the evils of the outside world.

Then his whole body began to spasm.

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.

 

Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

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

 

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Be You Bravely Blitz

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Children’s fiction, lgbtq+

 

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Deep down in the depths of the sea, there lives a vibrant community of the
most incredible sea creatures. Filled with wonder and love, these creatures
work and play together every day.

Koyah, Inyanga, and Pandora belong to a small pod of dolphins who spend
their days learning, singing, and hunting for food. The dolphin pod values
friendship, diversity, and community.

Pandora loves her friends and decides that she is ready to share with her
something personal and private. She shares with her friends that she is
transgender.

Join Pandora and her friends as they learn about true friendship and the
meaning of unconditional love.

 

About the Author

Jan Moore

During my forty plus trips around the sun, I have faced my share of
challenges. Infertility, breast cancer and building a practice in
healthcare, that was the easy stuff. Being the mom of four incredible humans
is my greatest passion. Each of my children bring unique experiences and
challenges, incredible joys and heartache. It wasn’t until my
daughter, at the age of five, revealed that she is transgender that I came
to understand what unconditional love really means. Join me as I work to
bring light to those who cannot speak for themselves. As I learn about the
impact of my privilege and discuss my missteps.

In my world All Are Welcome.

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

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Instagram

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

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How Not to Date a Dragon Master Teaser Tuesday

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Dark Fantasy, LGBTQ, Paranormal Romance

Date Published: May 5, 2023

 

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War is upon them — armies are clashing at their doorstep. Ulvissar’s
heat is becoming uncontrollable, and tension between him and Nithe is higher
than ever before.

With his Dragon Lord and her new mate leading his warriors, will Ulvissar
be able to destroy those who would betray them, and will Nithe be strong
enough to claim both the title of Dragon Master and his Ulvissar? How can
anyone withstand the wrath of an angry omega dragon?

 

Publisher’s Warning: How Not To Date a Dragon Master contains scenes of
graphic violence and adult kink with blood play that may be triggers for
some readers.

How Not to Date a Dragon Master paperback

 

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Stephanie Burke

 

The wind blew bitter cold on the overcast early morning when Prince Ranid
the Bold and his army rolled into town, and it matched the attitude of the
people. The few men who were left in the ranks watched the bedraggled and
exhausted inhabitants stagger toward their town’s entrance, while the
sounds of their war horses’ shoes loudly striking the dirt-covered
cobblestones encouraged a lone hound to throw back its head and howl
mournfully at the still present moon.

The few lights glowed enough to illuminate the remains of a once prosperous
town now fallen into ruin. A lone, sickly-looking goat bleated as it
wandered through, its dented bell clanking miserably in the night air while
a lone owl hooted in the distance.

The place smelled of neglect and misuse. Most of the buildings that
surrounded the courtyard and what looked to be the center of town appeared
derelict, missing windows, wood siding sliding off of their sides, paint so
old and weatherworn that it looked like it hadn’t been refreshed in
years.

Prince Ranid the Bold, on his once proud white steed, stood up in the
stirrups and declared for all to hear, “What a fucking
dump.”

“Well, fuck you too, asshole!” a drunk leaning on a pole
outside of the town’s only tavern called out. “Fuck you and the
horse you rode in on.”

That gave the whole army pause before a tall, black-haired, green-eyed
man’s laugh barked out, startling the few who wore his bright red
colors before they began to chuckle as well.

“What?” The green-eyed Prince Colton of Rinastas called to the
other disgusted prince’s soldiers. “Out here with no resources
but what little nature has left, you expected to find a lavish palace fit
for your royal ass?” He shook his head, amusement plain in every line
of his body. “This is war, boy. No one is going to be around to hold
your hand or wipe Your Highness’s backside for you. The people who
live in this area make do with what they have.”

“And who do these people hold loyalty to?” Prince Ranid
demanded, settling back into his saddle, his face slightly red because yes,
he expected some sort of accommodation for the royals at least. He
didn’t expect this place to be so… desolate.

“I believe they pay a once a year tax to the people of the Eastern
Kingdoms — the missing princess’s kingdom — and then they are
largely left alone. This is dragon territory after all,” Prince Colton
explained. “No one has a real hold on it but because part of it
scrapes against the princess’s kingdom, it is to her people that these
hard-working individuals pay their taxes and what little tribute they can
give.”

“No way.” Ranid rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and pouting
like a child as he absorbed what Colton was telling him. “The kingdom
renowned for its beauty wouldn’t let a place like this exist and
tarnish their good name. This is a disgrace.”

From beside him on his own warhorse, Lord Petyr of The Eastern Kingdoms
shook his head in embarrassment. How had he ever found the loud, obnoxious,
and abrasive prince beautiful? Things had cooled significantly since he
started seeking his own privacy and comfort in the bold red tent that Prince
Colton had lent him. Sure, he was no longer in the man’s bed but
anyone would think about waiting a full five minutes before another filled
Petyr’s former position there. And Petyr knew from personal experience
that when Ranid was distracted or angry, the whole act would take about five
minutes… from start to finish.

“If you say so.” Colton snickered to himself, unwilling to
engage the spoiled brat of a prince in any type of intellectual debate. As
far as this asshole was concerned, if something wasn’t up to his
ridiculous standards, then he would most likely dismiss it, and Colton was
not up for this kind of stupidity. He could be back at his tent getting some
shut-eye after a long and tedious… in every way imaginable…
campaign march. He was tired, his ass hurt for all the wrong reasons, and
now his head was starting to hurt as well from listening to the bitching and
griping of the brat prince. The only amusement he’d found during this
whole rush to an ass kicking was the delightfully sarcastic Lord
Petyr.

The man was pretty, though his downcast eyes and guilty expression
detracted from that somewhat. The man did know his mind though, and only
consented to be abused a short time before, with some encouraging words, he
struck out on his own. He was intelligent and sharp as he offered several
pride-protecting alternatives to the idiot prince as they traveled that
would allow him to pull out of his stupid march and still save face.
Colton’s favorite idea was to just play this was an inspection and
introduction tour to see what changes needed to be made before they reported
back to the King of the Eastern Lands.

Of course, Rancid the Bol — Ranid… Ranid the Bold ignored every
idea offered and was hellbent on completing his quest no matter the cost. So
far, he’d managed to lose a few tents, a few of his soldiers deserted
because of the insanity that they were surrounded by, diseases was starting
to run rampant through his men — the sexually transmitted kind of course,
because at this point the prince had more camp followers that loyal soldiers
— and he was losing the best aide-de-camp that Colton had ever seen.

Filled with righteous indignation, Ranid dismounted his tired horse with a
huff and led the poor beast to what appeared to be an inn and tethered him
to the post out front.

Petyr and Colton also dismounted and followed the upstart prince inside.
They stepped into the dim light allowed by the open shutters of what
appeared to be windows with some kind of glass. The rough wooden floors were
dusty. Goodness knows how everything in this town was not covered in dust,
but it looked like someone had tried to sweep it relatively clean. Several
long wooden bench-style tables sat in rows on either side of the room, the
bar along the back wall blocking access to what had to be a small kitchen in
the back.

“You call this place an inn?” Rancid was already ranting at a
disinterested woman who was slowly wiping down a battered bar with a dirty
rag.

“That’s what the sign used to say.” She snorted, rolling
her eyes and dropping the rag to the floor.

“Used to,” Ranid snarled, leaning on the bar… only to
jerk his hand back as it encountered what had to be the remains of
someone’s greasy dinner… or a body fluid. Who could tell?

“Used to.” The woman walked over to stand before him, her hefty
body covered in a stained smock, her arms crossed over her chest as she
stuck out her chin in an aggressive manner. “That’s what I said.
Are you fucking deaf or something?”

“Do you know who I am?” He bent closer to growl in her
face.

“No.” She leaned forward as well, growling back in his face.
“And I really don’t give a fuck who you are. Do you want
something or are you wasting my time?”

“I am the prince of your kingdom and I demand respect.”

“No,” the woman shook her head, a sardonic look spreading
across her face. “Our kingdom doesn’t have any princes, unless
you count the assholes that the princesses are supposed to marry. And you
didn’t demand my respect, you demanded my utmost attention and
you’re not worth my time… which you aren’t going to
get.”

 

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.

 

Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

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

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