Tag Archives: Megan Slayer

Fallen Blitz

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Fallen cover

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: April 4, 2025

 

 

He may be her salvation — if she’s willing to lose her wings all over
again.

 

Livia was cast out of heaven for the crime of falling in love with a human.
So what’s a fallen angel to do when she meets the man of her dreams? Falling
certainly has its perks.

Ty didn’t expect the angel at his party to be fallen or to have a murky
past. He also didn’t expect her to end up in his arms. Now he’s not about to
let the past stand in the way of their future.

 

EXCERPT

 

Parties are so lame.

Livia crossed her arms and stared at the people swaying before her. Hard
rock blasted from the speakers and rumbled the floor. She flicked a lock of
her hair over her shoulder. Dancing, laughing, and more than enough
drinking. She sighed. When was the last time she’d danced and laughed? Hell.
She couldn’t remember.

She wanted to dance, to wrap her arms around a torso thick with muscle, to
rest her head on a taut set of pecs and hear the heartbeat of a red-blooded
male like the one she’d drooled over in her history course. He’d mentioned
throwing an event. She wanted to see him, to see if he was actually like the
persona she’d created for him in her mind.

She snorted. Meeting a guy was probably not the best reason to attend a
costume party off campus, but who cared? It wasn’t like she had anyone
keeping tabs on her.

A young man dressed as a gladiator ambled toward her. “Hel-lo,
beautiful.” A wide grin curled his lips. His blond hair flopped over
his brow as he winked and pointed to her with his sloshing cup. “You
shouldn’t stand in the corner alone. Might get your wings dirty.”

Wings? She crooked one brow. She’d come as a Madonna look-alike, not an
angel. When she glanced over her shoulder, sure enough, her wings were there
— translucent, but there. Odd. “They’ll wash.” Her wings had been
ripped off over two thousand years prior. When – and how — the hell had
they come back?

“Yeah?” He wobbled on his feet. “Feathers work in a washing
machine?” He burped and his dark eyes widened. “I made a
funny.” He swayed again and splashed beer onto her bustier.

Livia gritted her teeth. This wasn’t the man she had in mind. Her dream man
didn’t slop alcohol on anyone — as far as she knew. Was the man in her mind
simply a figment of her imagination? An impossibility? Probably. She’d been
around far too long and seen more than her share of good men fall by the
wayside.

At least washing the beer stench out of her clothes wouldn’t be too
difficult.

“So, do ya wanna go make out?” He licked his lips. “I’m a
great kisser, and I bet you do wonders with those tits.”

“Go home, Brett.”

Livia’s blood turned to fire in her veins. The deep, gravelly voice set her
nerves on edge. If the drunken fool would just blow, she could at least see
the guy who’d come to her aid. If he was Tyler from history class, then even
better.

“Butt out, Ty.” Brett smacked his lips. “We were gonna have
sex. Me and those lovelies.” He reached out, hands hovering over her
chest. “Come to Brett. Again.”

Again? Who was this clown? “I wouldn’t have sex with you if you were
the last man alive,” Livia snapped and slapped his hands away.
“You spilled beer on me, and you’re an ass.”

“You’d know.” He swayed into her personal space and murmured in a
much less slurred tone, “I never forgot you.”

Never forgot her? What the hell was this guy drinking? She stared at the
drunken gladiator. Nothing about him really stood out. Still, at her age,
everything looked a little familiar. He couldn’t possibly be him. Isaiah was
dead. She’d seen him die over three centuries ago.

“Okay, time for Brett to go home. I don’t want shit on my carpet, and
she’s not interested.” The owner of the deep voice stepped out from
behind Livia and grabbed Brett’s arms. Her jaw dropped. This man was the
man. The man. Tyler Wilson embodied her innermost desires, and he was right
there protecting her.

Lean muscle filled out Ty’s tall frame. What would it feel like to have his
hands on her body? To run her fingers through his thick, dark hair and
listen to him murmur dirty things as they explored each other’s bodies —
what would it be like? A flash of bodies moving together and the look of
sheer lust in his blue eyes filled her mind. Oh, good God, it would be
almost heaven. Her pussy clenched and liquid heat coated her panties.

If he felt the heat, too. She couldn’t hope to be so lucky again. The
run-in with Brett or whoever he was had served as a cold reminder of what
she’d fallen for and couldn’t have.

Both men moved through the throng of people and disappeared. She should
stick around and find out if Ty was interested or if he was just keeping an
eye on his property. Not that she could blame him. Dumped beer could be
murder on a sound system. Not that her opinion mattered much. She was just a
partygoer like everyone else there. She folded her arms. Every moment she
waited, her conscience ate into her a little more. Waiting made her look
weak. It made her look needy. Was she needy?

Maybe. Damn.

No. She’d waited long enough. If he really wanted to talk to her, he’d have
come back. She turned and made her way to the apartment door and rummaged
through the pile of coats, looking for hers. Guys like Ty had women chasing
them in swarms. She’d been witness to that every time she walked out of the
Saunders Building. She wasn’t going to follow him around like a damned
puppy. Coat in hand, she turned toward the door. She plowed into a scantily
clad tiger giggling with a cowboy.

“Watch it,” the tiger snapped. “Nice wings, though. Costume
outlet, or did you get them online? I’ve been looking for some just like
them. I want a set. Michael, buy me some like that.”

Livia rolled her eyes. The truth was much too involved. Obscure always
worked. “I don’t remember.”

The cowboy tipped his hat. “Wanna join in?” He bobbed his brows,
and his gaze went straight to her chest. “We’re always looking for
more, and looking at those boobs, you’d be one hell of a third.”

“Michael! You said I was the only one,” she squealed. “No
more thirds.”

Michael shrugged. “Can’t blame me for asking.” He turned his
attention back to Livia. “You in?”

If they only knew what she’d done during her lifetime. “I’m good. No
thanks.” Livia ducked her head and stepped out into the hallway. She
didn’t look up until she hit the stairwell door.

Finally. Freedom.

Livia stopped on the landing and stared up at the sky through the round
stairwell window. Her heart ached. He was out there somewhere. The one man
to complete her. Was he still alive? Had she’d only imagined his death? Or
was she doomed to walk the Earth for the rest of eternity, alone?

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. It was foolish to pine for the
assumed dead, especially when they’d parted so badly. Still, Isaiah held her
heart and her life in his hands, just as he’d had for the last couple
thousand years.

Footsteps thumped behind her, but she didn’t bother to look up.

“Angel?”

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

Author on Instagram

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Taken by the Faerie Teaser Tuesday

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Taken by the Faerie cover

Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Urban Fantasy

Date Published: January 10, 2025

 

 

Thaddeus Maguire is a vampire. He can’t remember the last time he
felt young, vibrant and alive. He’s made choices he regrets, but when
one of those mistakes comes back to haunt him, he’s forced to face his
past. The only place a hungry, beaten vampire can heal and recharge is the
best sanctuary for anyone paranormal. Eerie.

When he forces himself through a portal to his hometown, he lands at the
feet of the most beautiful flame-red haired Faerie he’s ever seen. The
moment he looks up at Tasia, he’s in love. But who could love a broken
vampire?

Tasia isn’t afraid of the damaged vampire, and she’s determined
to make him see he’s more than his mistakes.

Can they outrun his past and find a future before his biggest mistake
destroys them? Love is possible when you’ve been taken by the
Faerie.

 

 

EXCERPT

 

“You’re dangerous.”

“I know.” Clayton’s eyes flashed. “I also know
you’re sending them to Eerie. I can’t touch them there, but I
can touch you here. Send another and I’ll fuck you up.”

“You will?” He had no doubt. Clayton didn’t care who he
hurt as long as he got what he wanted. “Why is that?”

“Because I made them for food. I made them so I can use them. I made
them because I want a fucking army.” Clayton stepped into
Thaddeus’s personal space. “I made them so they’ll fight
vermin like you.”

“Like me? Come now. That’s so harsh.” He shouldn’t
bait Clayton, but he didn’t care. He’d allowed Clayton and his
band of marauders to screw with his life for years. No more. “What are
you going to do about it? Are you going to kick my ass again? You’ve
done it so much that it’s lost the threat.”

“Oh?” Clayton punched hard into Thaddeus’s stomach. The
impact threw Thaddeus backward and would’ve knocked the wind out of
him — if he’d have had breath in his body. Not for years.

Thaddeus winced and gritted his teeth, but grinned. “Is that all you
have?”

“No.” Clayton withdrew a butterfly knife from his pocket and
slashed it through the air. He hacked into Thaddeus’s chest, leaving
trails of gray blood in his wake. He sliced down Thaddeus’s arm, then
across his belly. He shoved the knife into Thaddeus’s abdomen.
“Had enough?”

“I’m good. Wear yourself out.” He didn’t want
another slashing, but he wasn’t about to show that. The less Clayton
knew he was in pain, the better.

“You can’t protect all of them. Can’t save them or even
be the good guy. You’ll never redeem yourself,” Clayton said. He
twisted the knife. “You went down that road years ago and you
can’t undo it, so don’t try. Accept you’re a fucking loser
and will never be anything but.” He yanked the knife out and shook the
blood onto the asphalt as if the blood were water on his sleeve. He walked
away, then glanced over his shoulder and pointed to his eyes.

Of course, he was being watched. That’s how these beings worked. No
one ever got away free.

Thaddeus held his belly and managed to form a portal. Fucker. Clayton had
done a number on him this time. It’d take a few days to recover. He
would — vampires didn’t die without involving silver or crucifixes,
and Clayton was smart enough not to use either.

He couldn’t protect the human world forever. The regular
world’s vastness was more than one being could handle. He’d need
help.

Then again, he couldn’t be the only protector.

Jesus H. Christ. Where were the others? Asleep at the wheel?
Probably.

He shook his head and stepped through the portal into Eerie and quickly
closed the opening behind him. The faster he sealed the opening, the better
the chances he could get away from Clayton, even if only for now.

He sank to the ground and bowed his head. He needed to recharge. Fuck, he
should find a nice corner and hide. His skin would eventually seal over and
the damage within him would go away, but a good meal would help. Being in
Eerie didn’t mean he’d find one quickly.

He’d fought off Clayton for years, but he couldn’t keep going.
Not like this. Besides, why in the name of hell did Clayton need to destroy
so much?

He lifted his head and drank in his surroundings. He’d forgotten how
bright the town could be. After a moment, he realized he’d stepped
into the Faerie block. God love those Faeries; they lived for their
audacious colors.

Then there he was — he hated anything that wasn’t black. Blend in
and don’t be seen.

He looked around and his stomach churned. Not from the lack of blood, but
the sickeningly sweet location. There had to be at least three cupcake shops
on the block. Who needed so much sugar?

Not him.

“Excuse me. Do you need help?” A red haired Faerie, dressed in
a pale green dress, touched his shoulder. When he met her gaze, electricity
shot through him. His skin tingled from her touch. When she smiled, she
warmed him throughout. The odd look in her eyes confused him, though. Was
that interest or fear?

“You do need help. Are you… you’re cut. Oh, Hera, please
let me help you.” She grasped him under his arms and hoisted him to
his feet. “What happened to you? No, I get it. I see, and I’m
not letting you languish out here.”

“What are you talking about?” He didn’t understand how
she’d figured out he had a problem, other than the slashes and blood.
The way she talked, it was like she knew what was going on. Had she seen
other vampires coming to Eerie after being assaulted? How many more of them
were there? “How do you seem to know what I’m thinking?
What’s in my gut?”

“We should talk.” She nodded to a bench, then paused. “We
could stop here by the street, but you’re safer if you come with me to
the Hall. We’ll go to my work.”

“You’re a cop.” He dug in his heels as best he could.
“I’m not going to the cops.” He’d done that plenty
of other times and usually landed in jail for twenty-four hours for what was
claimed to be his own protection. Har. More like the protection of the
community.

If he’d gone mad or gone rogue, then everyone was in danger, but he
hadn’t on either account. He was just fine. Hurt, but fine. Beyond
that, the cops tended to have mages and necromancers on their staff who
could read his mind. They’d see way more than he wanted to
share.

 

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

Author Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

Author on Instagram

 

 

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

 

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Taken by the Necromancer Teaser

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Taken by the Necromancer cover

Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Vampires

Date Published: September 20, 2024

 

 

Briley Reed never expected to be a vampire or thought she’d find
herself heading to Eerie, but a brutal attack changes everything. When a
mystery man sends her to Eerie to find Atticus, she realizes just how much
her life has changed.

But could it be for the better?

Atticus Maguire wants to be left alone. He’s had his heart broken and
he’s done with love. Then Briley shows up in his life and it’s
turned upside down. He wasn’t planning to fall in love, but the magic
never lies.

Right?

 

Taken by the Necromancer tablet

EXCERPT

 

Atticus stood on his front porch and stared out at the water. He’d
lived in Eerie his entire life and loved his place on the edge of the lake.
The waves calmed him. He could think here. Could let his magic languish. Not
be forced to use it or help someone who wasn’t interested in being
helped.

He could be the old man yelling at kids running on his lawn.

He snorted. He had a lawn, but it wasn’t much — mostly sand and
rocks with a little grass mixed in. Kids didn’t venture to his side of
the lake, so no one trespassed on his property.

He’d accepted that he’d be alone. Who wanted to be with someone
who manipulated magic? Who could read the future and the past, and could
animate the dead? No one he knew.

When he’d visited the bars, he’d been given a wide berth. Women
didn’t approach him. He shouldn’t be annoyed by the actions, but
he was. He didn’t want to be alone.

Who did?

But he couldn’t find anyone who wanted to be with a being imbued with
magic. His former fiancée couldn’t handle his power or his
unintended ability to read the future. He knew the moment he’d met her
that she’d leave him, but he’d fallen in love with her anyway.
He’d given his heart, knowing it’d get broken.

She’d been a fun, vibrant light in his life — until she decided he
wasn’t good enough. She hadn’t been thrilled with his abilities
or his decision to live on the lake. She wanted life and noise and someone
who couldn’t read the future in her eyes.

When she left, despite him knowing it would happen, he retreated into
himself.

He rested his hands on his hips and watched the water move. The ripples
lulled him. Nothing mattered right now. Just the water moving, the chirp of
the birds and the flecks of sunlight through the trees. The warmth of the
sun danced on his skin.

His thoughts turned to Lydia. She’d been the first woman he’d
wanted to live with. The one he’d thought he’d love forever.
He’d never been good with women. He tended to be too shy and
didn’t say much. Lydia had claimed his silence was cute. She liked
when he brooded because she never quite knew what he was thinking. Except
when she wanted to know what he had on his mind, and he didn’t say
anything. She wanted him to open up. To talk more. To be more social and
take her out.

He didn’t mind going out, but he couldn’t dance and his ability
to see the future tended to get him into trouble. Lydia didn’t want
him reading her mind and got angry when he clammed up. She’d chew him
out for not talking, then when he did talk and it wasn’t what she
wanted to hear, she chewed him out again.

His skin tingled. A vision formed in his mind. A woman approaching and his
brother warning her to find him. He frowned. Who was this woman, and why
would his brother appear in his vision? He tipped his head. Who was she? He
wasn’t sure. The vision wasn’t clear enough.

He glanced over his shoulder. The woman wasn’t even in Eerie, but he
felt her. Another vision formed in his mind. This time, the woman stood in
his living room and wore nothing.

A nude woman in his home.

What was he getting himself involved in?

He’d figure it out when she arrived. If he knew one thing more than
anything else, fighting the future wasn’t smart. The future would
happen no matter what he did.

Still, he wished he knew more about this person trying to locate him. She
might end up hating him. The nudity might be because she was getting
revenge… on him? Someone else?

The more he thought about this woman, the more the vision of her nude in
his living room came into focus. Slender, curly brown hair down to her
shoulders, wide eyes, blushing from her hairline to her chest, breasts just
right for his hands and curves to make his mouth water. He longed to touch
her. He hadn’t even met her yet, and she’d stirred his
magic.

He wondered what her kiss would taste like.

He shook his head. Her kiss! She might not even want to kiss him.

The water sloshed against the bank and tore his attention from the woman.
His woodland oasis would be invaded. Did he mind?

Not really.

He headed back to the house as a shiver ran the length of his spine. The
woman hadn’t reached Eerie, but she was on the outskirts. She also
needed his help.

He grabbed his keys, then tucked his phone into his front pocket. Once he
locked up the cabin, he rushed out to his motorcycle. He sped out of the
shed toward the gravel path, then the road. Living on the far side of the
lake meant he’d waste precious minutes rounding the body of water to
get to her, but his magic swore she was closer than he’d
thought.

Atticus sped down the back road to the edge of town. Her car wasn’t
broken down, but she had a follower. He couldn’t see the person in the
truck tailing her. Didn’t matter. He’d use a cloaking spell to
hide her from the other driver. He spotted her little car, and his heart
skipped a beat. He’d never met her, but he had a connection to
her.

He pulled out onto the main road between her and the truck, blocking the
following vehicle from getting to her. At the same time, he spoke the words
to the spell and enveloped her in the invisible cloak. She’d never
know he was behind her, but she would know the truck was gone.

Now he could deal with the truck.

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

Author Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

Author on Instagram

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Taken by the Valkyrie Teaser

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Taken by the Valkyrie cover

A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novella

 

Taken, Book 6

 

Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Date Published: July 5, 2024

 

 

Kara is tired of her role as a Valkyrie, not that she has much choice.
Being a Valkyrie is her identity. It’s in her blood. But she can only
witness so much death and destruction. Her faith in humanity has waned.
Until she meets Eric.

Eric, a retired Airman, is just as tired. He’s seen things he
believes no one else would understand. Then he picks up Kara and his world
is turned upside down. She’s the one he never saw coming and the one
he can’t live without — if only she can handle his past.

The past might not be more than they can overcome, but what if these two
warriors are exactly what they each need?

 

Taken by the Valkyrie teaser

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2024 Megan Slayer

 

“Don’t you dare get attached.”

Kara folded her arms and groaned. She’d heard that line so many times
through the centuries. What did attachments have to do with her? She
wasn’t about to hook up with anyone long-term again. She’d made
that mistake once and nearly paid with her life.

Not again.

Brynhildr glared at her. “You’re not listening.”

Kara snorted and shifted her attention from her thoughts to the elder
Valkyrie. “You’re right. I’m not.” She mentally
repeated the rules — Valkyries are duty-bound, not permitted to form
attachments, should stay free and vigilant.

Fine. Except she didn’t want to be on duty any longer. The job had
become too dangerous. She’d long tired of the blood, the gore, the
anger. She’d retrieved so many warriors from the field of battle and
delivered them to Valhalla, but she could only take the devastation for so
long.

“I don’t like you getting into scuffles in bars.”
Brynhildr shook her head and leaned her elbows on the high-top table.
“You’re looking for trouble. What do you have? A death
wish?”

“What if I do?” She picked at the peanut shell remaining in the
bowl. The bartender needed to replenish the snacks. When the monster came
back around, she’d say something.

“What do you mean?” Brynhildr asked. “You’re
getting careless, like you’re inviting trouble. You do know
there’s something big planned for you.”

“Is there?” At least she didn’t have to explain herself.
She wasn’t about to tell the elder she wanted to rest for a long time
— like forever. She’d contemplated final solutions a few times, but
the idea of actually dying scared her. Her ex had tried to kill her, but
she’d been reincarnated. Helgi swore he’d never let her forget
him.

She hadn’t.

But she also didn’t want to be with him any longer.

“There’s a plan for you, Kara. Don’t jeopardize
it.” Brynhildr sighed and reached for Kara’s arm.
“What’s got you so upset? Talk to me. You can’t bottle it
inside or you’ll lose the battle.”

She knew that all too well. Brynhildr was right. They did need to talk.
“I don’t want to retrieve any longer. I want a break. I
can’t handle the death and gore anymore. I’m tired of seeing so
much pain. My heart can’t take it. I don’t want to settle down,
but I need time away. I’ve thought about just ending it all to make
the pain go away.”

“Don’t do that.” Brynhildr squeezed Kara’s bicep.
“You’re my dear friend. When you feel that way again, you tell
me. I’ll sit with you as long as you need and even when you
don’t.”

“I know you will.” She’d never doubted her friend and
elder Valkyrie. “What’s this big thing planned for
me?”

“Promise me you’ll call me when you get low.” Brynhildr
held tight to Kara’s arm. “Promise.”

“I will.” She wouldn’t go back on that.

“But you asked about the something big,” Brynhildr said.
“Not all warriors need to go to Valhalla. Some need care here first.
It’s up to you if you’re interested in giving that care before
they can go. It doesn’t mean they’re on the battlefield. In some
cases, they’re still fighting even though they’re
home.”

“Still?” she murmured. Someone else understood what she saw
when she closed her eyes?

“You might even find yourself along the way.”

She hadn’t expected the elder to say that. She’d expected to
stay lost and drift away. But if she could help someone, that would be good
— if she could even help. Most people were afraid of her. What if the
person she was supposed to assist didn’t want her help? What if they
didn’t like her?

“We have someone specific in mind for your first job. What if I could
tell you what he looks like?” Brynhildr asked. “Could show
you?”

“You could?” Now the elder had her full attention. “Show
me.”

“Are you interested in taking a different route and helping
him?”

She hesitated. She should say no and return to sulking. “I am.”
The words spilled off her tongue. She didn’t hear the undercurrent of
conversation in the bar, didn’t smell the cigarettes and stale beer in
the air, or even notice the smoke swirling around her. Her senses
hyper-focused on what Brynhildr said. “I want to see him.”

“Very well.” Brynhildr produced a mirror.

The image of a man formed in the glass. Brown hair, crinkles around his
brown eyes, tension in his posture, too thin, but handsome. Kara narrowed
her eyes. He was damn cute, but wasn’t he off-limits? “I
can’t get attached to him?”

“You know the code.”

She did.

She also wasn’t entirely sure what he’d be like. He might be a
jerk. Have the  personality of a brick. Or he could be damn sexy,
enticing, and sweet. Just lost too. He could be the kind of man a woman
wanted to chase, to wrap up in, and never let go. The kind she wanted to
kiss, touch, and tease. To feel moving inside her.

Not the perfect man — but damn close.

If he really existed.

He might not.

There wasn’t much point in getting her hopes up.

“Just don’t fall in love.” Brynhildr shook her head.
“Remember how that worked out with Helgi? This one might be a better
fit and not nearly so violent, but you’re a proud Valkyrie, and you
should remain unattached.”

“I should.” She’d followed the rules during this life.
Previous ones? Not so much. This time around, she wanted to be a good
Valkyrie. A proud one. She didn’t have time for romance. No time to
waste on something that wasn’t going to last.

What if it did? What if this wasn’t just a passing fancy? What if
they fell in love?

She had to stop thinking like this. Just because falling in love was
possible didn’t mean it’d happen. Falling on her head was just
as possible. Gods, it was more believable. She wasn’t a kid and
didn’t need love.

Right?

Everyone could live without love and affection.

What if she didn’t want to any longer? What if she wanted to be
romanced?

What if he had the key to her happiness, and he held the key to her
heart?

Only the power of the gods could show her that truth.

Where was a god when she needed one?

“He’s here in Eerie. I’ll bet you’ve seen
him,” Brynhildr said. “Don’t spook him. I know
you’re good at being blunt.”

 

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

Author Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

Author on Instagram

 

Publisher on Facebook, Twitter & Instagram: @changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Taken by the Satyr Blitz

Taken by the Satyr banner

 

Taken by the Satyr cover

(Taken 5): A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novella

Paranormal Women’s Fiction / Urban Fantasy

Date to be Published: February 16, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press, LLC

 

 

Preston, son of Hermes, has a secret. He’s been cursed to live as a
satyr — a monster with a dubious job he hates. He knows love is not in his
future. Can’t be.

Then he meets Lulu — the daughter of a witch and Elf. A woman unsure of
her place in the world. Luna has come back to Eerie to hide and heal, but a
chance meeting with sorcerers and being thrown together with Preston changes
everything. Love may be possible if only Luna can open her heart and change
Preston’s mind.

 

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2024 Megan Slayer

 

Back to the old homestead. Lulu snorted and pulled onto the dirt road
leading to the witch enclave. She wasn’t a witch herself. Hell, she
wasn’t even sure what she was — the daughter of a witch and an elf.
Did that make her a Wilf? An Elch? She had magic, but she wasn’t good
with spells. She couldn’t bake for shit and refused to live in a
tree.

She drove the mucky path passing for a street to the house she’d
grown up in. When she’d left for college, she’d been so
wide-eyed and excited. So ready to embrace the world.

Then Tom happened. He’d consumed her life. He made her feel things.
Showed her there was more to life, but most of it wasn’t good. He
needed control.

Of course, he did.

Being a sorcerer, he lived for control.

Every time she looked back on her last few years, she winced. She’d
been so naive. She’d let him do all the things he’d done because
she thought she loved him.

He’d never loved her.

But that didn’t matter now. She’d broken free from his control,
and he’d moved on to his next victim.

She stopped in her parents’ driveway, but her thoughts clogged her
mind. She’d considered his next girlfriend a victim. God. What a piece
of work Tom was!

That didn’t matter. She’d come home. She’d gone back to
what she knew so she could heal her heart.

She left the car and strode over to the barn. Poofs of colored smoke shot
from the chimney. Her mother must be creating.

She spied the plants in the field. Her father had finally got the crops out
on time. Good for him. A smile pulled at her lips. At least someone had
their life going in the right direction.

She’d figure hers out soon enough.

She diverted from the barn and made her way over to the field. She breathed
in the clean scent of the crops. Eerie was a hot mess at times, but it was
also the place for paranormals to be themselves. It was a safe place.

She’d thought she needed a place to run away to, but not when home
called. It wasn’t like she had a lost love back home. She’d
never had a boyfriend when she’d been in Eerie. She hadn’t been
enough of a paranormal — not looking like an elf or witch. She’d been
too normal and teased for her appearance. Being different hadn’t
bothered her, though. She shook her head. She’d pulled herself up and
grown. She wasn’t the same girl who’d left town.

“You made it.” Daff, her father, bounded up to her. “Got
a lot to move in?”

“I’m not moving in, Daddy.” She’d found an
apartment on March Avenue, above a bakery. Sue her for liking the
smells.

“I didn’t think you would be, but I cleaned up the second floor
just in case.” He wiped his hands on a towel hanging from his pocket.
“What are you planning to do?”

“I’m living in the Towers. Fourth floor. I’ll get the
keys this evening. It’s furnished so I don’t have to move
anything but my clothes.” She’d worked out a deal with Marina,
her second cousin, to get the last furnished unit.

“Good. I’m glad.” Her father hesitated. “Are you
having a roommate?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? A witch alone?” Her father shook his head.
“We have room.”

“You do, but I need to do this on my own.” She hugged him.
“But I appreciate the concern. I’m only a call
away.”

“I know,” her father said. “Got a job yet?”

“At Linc’s.” She wasn’t sure working at a bar was
smart, but it was a job.

“The bar?”

“In the restaurant. I head there next.” She stepped back.
“Just wanted to see you and Mom. I can use all the anchors I can
get.” She needed them.

“You’re always welcome here.”

“I know. Is Mom around?” She hadn’t seen her and her
mother tended to be the center of attention.

“She’s mixing spells with Grinella.”

She should’ve guessed. “She spends a lot of time there with
her.”

“She does.”

Sadness tinged his voice and she hesitated. “To the exclusion of
you?”

“A bit.”

“Daddy.” She wasn’t sure what to do to help him.

“She needs to find herself, so I’m letting her.”

“But you’re unhappy.” She would be, too.

“I am, but I’ll be here for her.”

“What do you want? For you? Not for Mom?”

He stared at her. “I never thought about it.”

“I know.” She sat beside him on the fence. “What do you
want?”

“To farm. To have my animals and work the land. To feel the earth in
my hands. To be loved,” he said. “All those things.”

“Then that’s what you should do. All of those things. Have you
told Mom you don’t feel loved?”

“She’s never home and when she is, she’s drifting.
It’s like I can’t reach her.”

“You need to try and tell her.” She hugged him. “I
didn’t tell Reuben how I felt and it made life miserable. It
would’ve changed so much and might have kept me from dating
Tom.” Might have made her life better.

“I will.”

“You need to.” She sighed. “I’ll check on you, but
I need to get to work.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be okay.” He nodded. “It’ll
always be okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.” He offered a sad smile. “Go. Get your life
going.”

“I will.” She hesitated before heading to her car. She wanted
to be there for her dad. To help him have the best. For both him and her
mother. She loved them and they did love each other, but they weren’t
good at communicating. Right now, they seemed pulled apart. Sort of like her
situation with Reuben. He’d felt abandoned and used that feeling to
walk away. He claimed he had to find his happiness. He hadn’t cared
that she was confused by her own feelings and overwhelmed. He didn’t
care that she wasn’t sure how to deal with stress, but he wanted what
he wanted when he wanted it, and if someone argued, they were wrong. Not
him.

She’d been wrong often. But she hadn’t told him how she’d
felt.

She slid behind the wheel, then left the farm. Dust swirled in her wake.
Gravel crunched under her tires. A sense of freedom washed over her. She was
her own woman. No Tom or Reuben to stand in her way. A single lady. And it
was time she found her own happy.

Not at a bar, but that was a job. She drove across Eerie, passing the
woods, the lake with light sparkling on the water and so peaceful.
She’d never been much of a nature lover, but she appreciated the
solitude and ability to get lost in the woods to center herself.

She continued to the east end of town. Most residents hated the east end
because of the rough crowd that tended to frequent the area. The bars and
dance halls were there. So was the bail bondsman’s office.

She parked in the lot behind the bar in the staff area. The hotel stood
behind the bar and seemed to groan in the late afternoon sun. She
didn’t know many of the vehicles, but she hadn’t worked there
yet. She hadn’t met the gang. Being hired the day before made knowing
people difficult. She left her car and locked it, then ventured into the
building.

“Hi.” A blond man with a dirty T-shirt stood by the kitchen
sink. “First day?”

“It is.” She recognized the man. The satyr. She thought his
name was Stav. Or something like that. “You’re here
today?” She’d been warned against him.

“Always.” He grinned and dried his hands. “My brother
owns the bar. I’m sure Lance hired you.”

“He did.” The easy conversation reassured her. “He
mentioned his baby brother.”

“Good or bad?” A wicked glimmer filled his eyes.

“A little bit of both.”

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

Author Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

Author on Instagram

 

Publisher on Facebook, Twitter & Instagram: @changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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