Showing posts with label Changeling Press. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Changeling Press. Show all posts

Monday, November 21, 2022

An ancient prophecy brings danger to their doorstep. Forces she never imagined are conspiring to destroy everything that matters to her. #TeaserTuesday with soon to be released #paranormalromance #fantasy from guest author @ashlynn_monroe and @changelingpress Maid for the Mermen

 

 

Fantasy Romance, Paranormal Romance, Shapeshifters, Reverse Harem

Date Published: 11/25/2022

 

 Couch surfing and temp jobs were a way of life for Daisy Daniels after she aged out of the foster care system. She’s always taken life one day at a time and gone with the flow. What she never expected is that flow would lead her down a raging current of uncertainty about her life and the world she knows.

River, Ocean, and Bayou Waterson need someone to keep their island home neat and tidy, but they have a problem. They can’t trust any old cleaning service. They need to find someone who will be willing to overlook their differences. What they never expected was to find a live-in maid they would all love.

When Daisy discovers the celebrity treasure hunters are really mermen, will she be able to keep her head above water? An ancient prophecy brings danger to their doorstep. Forces she never imagined are conspiring to destroy everything that matters to her. The only thing that can save her is a bond she can’t break. Saving the world definitely wasn’t in the job description.



EXCERPT


All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 Ashlynn Monroe


Daisy had slept -- more like tossed and turned -- at Sally’s the previous night. It felt weird leaving her vehicle behind at the harbor, the rusty hunk of junk being her most valuable possession. She’d been told to bring a bag in case this worked out and she could spend the night settling in. Everything she owned fit into a large suitcase and overnight bag, so she decided to bring it all. After grabbing her pillow, she looked at the small pile on the ground. So little to show for twenty-one years of life. It caused a wave of melancholy to wash over her while locking the car.

She’d looked for the boat called Siren. It didn’t take long. The huge thing was no boat. This was a yacht. “Wow,” she muttered to herself.

“Do you like her?” a male said from behind her.

Daisy jumped, but she didn’t look to see who’d asked. “It’s pretty. I’ve never been on a boat before.”

“Are you Daisy Daniels?”

When she heard her name, she turned. Her mouth went dry. She’d seen an episode of his TV show with Sally here and there, but she’d always been more interested in playing with her phone than the program. She vaguely recognized this guy as one of the hotties Sally drooled over. He wasn’t just TV pretty. This guy was hot. A total hunk. His long black hair, casually tied back in a ponytail, made her a bit envious. He had a black goatee and eyes so brown they could have been black. His skin, tanned, and his upper body, powerful. His arms looked like they belonged to a body builder. She opened her mouth, at a loss for words.

He grinned, as if amused. “You do realize this job is on an island. The only way off and on is by boat. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

Mort’s had already replaced her with another temp. She needed this job. Nodding, Daisy dropped her overnight bag and stuck out her hand. “I’m up for it.”

“River Waterson.” He shook her hand firmly.

Daisy picked up her bag. She couldn’t help wondering if it was actually his name or a stage name for his reality show.

“Let me take something for you,” River offered. He gave her a tight smile.

“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Waterson. It’s not heavy.” Years of having things stolen made Daisy nervous to hand off her belongings.

“Don’t worry, I won’t run off with it.” He held out his hand. “And please, it’s River. Three Mr. Watersons could get a bit confusing.”

Daisy nodded. Wanting to seem cooperative and make a good impression, she reluctantly let him take the handle of her suitcase. He rolled it behind him as they approached the boat.

They walked to the dock and then up a wobbly metal ramp. Daisy took hold of the railing, feeling a little woozy.

“Careful. You’ll need to get those sea legs if we all agree you’re a good fit,” River said.

Worry nibbled at the back of her mind. His words reminded her this wasn’t a sure thing, but an interview. Whatever happened, she’d just have to figure things out. Silently, she cursed Sally’s idea. It wasn’t as if Daisy qualified as maid material. These guys would probably see that. At least Sally would be obligated to let Daisy crash at her place.

“Do you have time left on a lease somewhere?” River asked.

Daisy mentally cursed. She still wasn’t totally sure how to frame her lack of permanent address, so she didn’t sound flighty. And was this guy some kind of mind reader or just super perceptive?


The author on…

Twitter

Facebook


Publisher’s Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress


Pre-Order Today



RABT Book Tours & PR

Monday, July 11, 2022

Paranormal #romance for #teaserTuesday Soon to be released #LGBTQ Bee and Harp from guest #author Siondalin O'Craig and @changelingpress

 

 

Paranormal Romance, LGBTQ

Date Published: July 15, 2022

Publisher: Changeling Press


Dublin Museum Curator Bee McBride’s research tour is interrupted by a shady stranger with a broken harp -- and a broken heart.

When Bee, the stranger, and the harp are kidnapped by art thieves, Bee discovers the dusty instrument is the legendary magic harp of the ancient Celtic god Dagda.

Can her buzzing fervor find a way to unlock the harp’s music and the stranger’s ardor before Midsummer Night?

 



EXCERPT

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 Siondalin O'Craig

 

July 1

Kevin O’Donnell called the place where he’d been resting his head these last couple of years the Marble Arches, after the caves in Fermanagh. These caves under FDR Drive weren’t etched into limestone, however; their side walls were crumbling concrete from an early era of Manhattan development. Bits of shell and round stone sloughed off onto the floor each time he brushed by it. The supporting pillars were concrete of a more modern vintage, but in the same rotted condition, stained by runoff from the road above, broken flakes exposing lines of rusted rebar.

The back wall was raw Manhattan bedrock, and in this heat it had the advantage of staying cool, and while the drought was doing murderous damage elsewhere, it meant the floor of the Marble Arches stayed blessedly dry for the moment. Sitting with his back against the bedrock, Kevin could look out across the docks and over the East River to Brooklyn, watching the yachts, the tour boats, and the giant freighters that taunted him with their ability to leave this place and bring their sailors back to homes and families far away.

* * *

For ten days, Kevin had been trying to coax sound from the harp. He sat with its base tucked between his legs, cushioned by the neatly folded wrap of linen, its soundboard held tight to his chest in a lover’s embrace. Sometimes his fingers floated silently over the strings. Other times he just held it close, feeling energy flowing from it into his body.

Kevin cleaned the wood slowly, carefully, using a bandanna he found in the gutter, and the water from a dozen half-full plastic water bottles he pulled from garbage cans. Rich carving emerged from the grime. Clasped in the dragon’s claws were two large roses, so lifelike that it appeared fresh drops of dew spangled their petals. The roses were bundled with oak leaves, and acorns tumbled down the pillar.

“Daur da Bláo,” Kevin whispered. The Oak of Two Blossoms.

He had stopped in at the sailor’s mission on the Bowery and begged a pair of nail clippers. He clipped his ragged nails straight across, slightly longer than the tips of his fingers. Plucking the strings of an ancient wire frame harp was done with the fingernails.

He found enough change on the street to buy a cup of tea at the coffee shop across from the Strand bookshop and used the foaming pink soap in their restroom to scrub the layers of grime from his hands. He pumped more soap into his empty paper teacup and took it back to the Marble Arches. He bathed the wire strings in the soap and let them soak, then poured clean water over them and rubbed them down with the bandana.

He’d been right. The corr, or pinboard, was brass, embossed with four-stranded knotwork. The tuning pins were also brass, burnished to a sheen, their leaf-shaped heads inset with silver triskeles. But the strings themselves were pure gold. The harp of legends, he thought. This can’t be real.

His perch under the roadway suddenly felt confining, stifling. He wrapped the harp and walked out onto the Brooklyn Bridge. The sun was burning hot and blindingly white, but the air over the East River was stirring. The tourist crowd was subdued in the heat, and the joggers who usually occupied a steady lane of the walkway were completely absent.

He found an unoccupied bench in the shadow of the bridge’s dark limestone towers. He wrapped his arms around the harp. A breeze wove between the strings, and he thought he heard a faint, high-pitched hum. He pressed his ear to the frame and listened. Yes, there. So fragile. So distant. But the harp did have a voice, inside the soundbox. The harp was alive.

He put his fingers to the strings, his left hand reaching out to the high strings nestled in the point of the frame, his right hand over his thighs, spread over the bass strings. The hand position was the opposite of that on modern harps, but this was the way frame harp playing was depicted in the ancient carvings and medieval manuscripts, and so it was how frame harps continue to be played by the small handful of people in the world who had any familiarity with them.

He bent his head as if in prayer, pressed close against the soundboard. He plucked a string with the middle finger of his right hand, then with the ring finger, silently playing the pick-up notes to Pretty Maid Milking a Cow. The lyrics had emerged in the nineteenth century, but the origins of the hauntingly poignant harp tune underneath the ballad was lost in antiquity.

His hands bloomed into motion, the ghost of the soundless tune echoing in his mind. A living vine of energy began to grow between his body and the ancient harp, its gold strings glittering.

The notes in his mind tangled with the breeze rising from the water, and swirled into visual images. A woman’s hands, her wrists, her forearms bare, in dim light, glistening with water. Her shoulders, rising from a dark lake. A curve of hip, strong legs, bare feet on a stony shore. Drying her auburn hair. Looking at him with soft brown eyes. Eyes that were full of warmth. Eyes that were full of love. Full of desire.

He stopped and straightened his spine, hands reaching to damp the strings by habit, though they had yet to make a noise. He felt a current coursing through his body, from his fingertips up through the long disused muscles of his forearms, muscles that used to pop with sinewy definition when he played ten hours a day. The power ran down his spine and through the long lean muscles of his legs, taut from walking countless miles of lonely sidewalks.

Kevin realized, as if he were watching himself from a distance, that his cock was pressed rigidly against the harp. He froze, motionless, as if his erection were a wild bird that he did not want to frighten. He took his hands away from the harp, resting them on his thighs. His body came back to the bench on the Brooklyn Bridge, but something inside of him had changed.

I am Kevin O’Donnell, he thought. Kevin O’Donnell, the harper.



About the Author

Siondalin O'Craig writes romance with the slow burn of a peat fire on an autumn night deep in the woodland hills. Sip a glass of Irish whiskey, turn the page, and let the magic overtake you. Siondalin lives in the mountains of New England where she walks under the trees celebrating the wheel of the year, grows a luscious garden full of magical herbs, and plays a wicked Irish fiddle. Follow her on Facebook and email her at siondalinocraig@gmail.com to sign up for her newsletter.


Contact Link

Facebook


Publisher’s Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Now


RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Falling in love with him was inevitable, but now I need him to see me as a desirable woman and not a girl who needs his protection. #newrelease #MCromance @HarleyW_Writer




ROCKET (Hades Abyss MC) by Harley Wylde
Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Genres/Themes: MC Romance, Contemporary, New Adult, Interracial

ABOUT THE BOOK

Violeta -- It’s been a year since I was brought to the US and given to Rocket. I’d thought he was like the others and would only cause me pain. I was wrong. Rocket is the kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever met. I arrived an abused, pregnant teen. Now I’m a more confident woman, and I have Rocket to thank. Falling in love with him was inevitable, but now I need him to see me as a desirable woman and not a girl who needs his protection.
Rocket -- The young girl who came to live with me was more broken than I’d realized. The horrors she faced have made her stronger, but it didn’t happen overnight. It’s hard not to watch her, to want her. I shouldn’t. I’m too damn old for an eighteen-year-old woman. She’s not as fragile, physically and emotionally, but I can’t shut off the protector inside me that wants to shelter her and keep her safe. When she’s taken, I know that the men responsible will die. I only hope that side of me doesn’t scare my sweet Vi, but nothing will stop me from spilling their blood. I just don’t know if we can end the war before it starts, or if this will only be the beginning. I’ll keep her safe, no matter the cost, because she’s mine whether she knows it or not.
WARNING: This book contains violence, strong language, explicit sex scenes, and an abused woman. But it also has a biker who will protect the woman he loves, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

Pre-Order your copy today!
Releasing August 9th at online retailers.






Too eager to wait until August 9th? You can get it on August 2nd at Changeling Press:


 Read a teaser

I peered out the front blinds and couldn’t contain my sigh. Rocket was outside washing his bike. Shirtless. It hadn’t taken me very long to get over my fear of him. The man had been nothing but kind to me, gentle even, as if he were afraid I’d break. No one had ever treated me better, not a male someone anyway. Even Luciana’s husband had frightened me at first. Then I’d seen the way he looked at her, knew that he cared for her, and I’d realized that there were decent men in the world. Spider was one, and so was Rocket. It had taken some time to feel the same about the rest of the Hades Abyss crew, but I now understood that I was completely safe here. None of them would hurt me, or my sister. For the first time in our lives, we were protected.
Once my fear had subsided, the little things Rocket did to take care of me had started to make me feel something. At first, I’d thought maybe I saw him as a friend or older brother, but that hadn’t felt right. It wasn’t until my sister had given me a knowing look that I’d realized I was falling in love with him. Not that it did me any good. I was seventeen, a child in his eyes. For a little while longer at any rate. I would be eighteen soon, but I didn’t know if that would matter. Just because I felt something for him didn’t mean he felt the same about me. He never did anything inappropriate or said anything he shouldn’t. He was nice, but not in a flirty type of way.
I'd thought Id heard him in his room one night, my name on his lips and the unmistakable sound of a man jerking off. The next morning, he wouldn't look me in the eye and Id wondered if h'd been thinking of me while pleasuring himself. To some it might have seemed wrong, but after everything Id been through, I didn't view life the way most people would. Despite my age, I hadn't been a child in a long while, and back home my father could have easily married me off to someone by now. After the initial awkwardness with Rocket that morning, things had returned to normal between us, which meant he was treating me like a child in need of protection and not a woman. It aggravated me, more than just a little.
"Just a few weeks," Luciana said from where she sat on the sofa.
"What?"
"You're almost eighteen."
I shrugged a shoulder. Rocket was protective, but it didn't go further than that. I didn't think it ever would. He'd already seen me naked that first day. Maybe I wasn't his type. Just because Id heard him doing that and saying my name didn't mean much. Men had needs, and I was the woman he saw day in and day out. It was likely that and nothing more. Id always thought men didn't really have a type, that any woman would do, but then Id never met someone like him before. He'd not once brought a woman home. It didn't mean he was't seeing someone the times he wasn't at the house, but I tried not to think about that.
"He cares about you," she insisted.
"I know he does, but he doesn't love me. Not the way a man loves a woman." At least, it didn't seem like he did. There were times I thought I caught a certain look in his eyes, but it was gone so fast Id convinced myself I was imagining things. Wishful thinking on my part.
"I know you think he doesn't see you that way, but you're wrong."
 All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde


ABOUT HARLEY…
Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley's other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can't deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you've come to the right place.
Harley Wylde is the "wilder" side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. Visit Jessica's website at jessicacoultersmith.com or Harley's website at harleywylde.com.


Friday, May 31, 2019

He’s a monster -- a cybernetic freak feared by females. Until he finds her… New release #romance #scifi Read a #teaser from guest author @kitcatjms and @changelingpress




Saved by the Cyborg (Cy-Con #3)
Jessica Coulter Smith
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Karen Fox
Released May 2019

ABOUT THE BOOK
He’s a monster -- a cybernetic freak feared by females. Until he finds her…

Intimidating. Damaged. Unlovable.
Tark wanted a mate even before he joined the Cy-Con program. His sheer size made females fear him, and now that he’s been turned into a cybernetic freak they avoid him even more. When he finds a female being held in a brothel against her will, he knows that he can’t leave without her.

Tark means to take Suki home to his world, a place where she can heal and start a new life. He never realized she’d want to start that life with him, or that she’d insist on leaving the safety of Xpashta in an effort to rescue others like herself.

Brave. Fearless. Pregnant?
Tark saved the alluring human female once. When she’s captured during a dangerous mission, he knows he’ll have to do it again, and this time, he’s not letting her out of his sight -- especially when he finds out she’s pregnant with his child.


SNEAK PEEK
“Why is it hard for you to believe I would want to be with you?” she asked.

“Females don’t want me,” he said after a few minutes. “They never have. Even whores have run from me in fear. I’ve never…”

He looked away, but Suki could tell he was embarrassed. Was he trying to say he was a virgin? She couldn’t believe it. How could anyone turn him away? Tark was kind and protective. And he’d been gentle with her. Despite his mechanical arm, he hadn’t harmed her, not once. He was always careful when he reached for her, or carried her. She didn’t understand why women didn’t beg for his attention. On Earth, she’d been independent for the most part, hadn’t felt she needed a man for anything. She’d had boyfriends, but none that lasted longer than a month. But being a slave had taught her that out here in space, far from the world she’d called home, she did need a male, as long as it was the right one. She’d been too weak to fight them off, too weak to save herself and her sister. The thought of someone big and strong offering protection was tempting.
Suki stood and placed her hand on his bicep. He was so strong, so… He made her feel safe, and that was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. If she could do anything, she wanted to make him realize that not all females feared him. She didn’t. If he claimed her as his mate, she would feel like the luckiest of women. She just didn’t know how to make Tark see that.

“I’m not running,” she said. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

He looked at her, his gaze holding hers.

 If he’d never been with a female, had he ever been kissed? Suki leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against his. 

Tark froze, every muscle in his body tense. 

Suki moved her mouth against his, giving him the softest of kisses, until he began to relax. She pulled back and stared into his eyes. 

Tark looked stunned as he reached up and touched his lips.

“Do you want to do it again?” she asked. “You could kiss me this time, if you want.”

“Kiss you,” he repeated, staring at her lips.

“Yes.”

Tark’s gaze flicked up to hers then lowered to her mouth again. Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. 

Suki placed her hand on the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. Suki parted her lips and touched her tongue to his lips. 

Tark groaned and opened, letting her in. 

She kissed him slowly, deeply. And all too soon, he was pulling away. Suki clung to him, not ready for it to end just yet. It had been so long since she’d felt anything like that, and maybe she never had. Kissing Tark felt different, but in a very good way.

WHERE TO BUY

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. Today she’s a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.
Find Jessica on Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / jessicacoultersmith.com.






Saturday, February 23, 2019

New release #MCRomance from @AuthorLynnBurke and @changelingpress #romance Read a #teaser



Bowie’s Angel
Devil’s Outlaws 1
By Lynn Burke
Publisher: Changeling Press

Keywords: MC Romance, May/December, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Suspense, Series, HEA

When a barely-legal blonde with a lithe, young body shows up at the Devil’s Outlaw MC strip joint to audition as a dancer, Ian “Bowie” Davies wants nothing more than to burrow between her long legs and claim her. She's too young for his dominant side though, too innocent for the sharp edges of his darker desires. And way too hot to let another man touch her -- a thought that has his hands itching to use his signature knives against any bastard who messes with his angel.

Hannah Harris ran away from home at age eighteen, desperate to escape the prison of her strict parents. Determined to delight in the sins her father preaches against, she puts her ballet talents to work, using a stripper pole to make a living. Dancing for Bowie and his blade has her panting to explore some of the “firsts” she planned to save for her future husband.

But when Bowie and his brothers attempt extortion beyond her parent’s ten-thousand dollar reward for Hannah's safe return, she's left with a difficult choice. Offer up the evidence to put the notorious biker gang behind bars, or protect Bowie and chalk the shit-show up as a lesson learned and begin her independent life anew -- without the lying bastard who owns her heart.

Can Bowie cut through the blindfold of lies on Hannah’s eyes and surrender the truth in his heart to win her back?


*Warning: Spanking, anal sex, knife play


Read an excerpt

The scent of evergreen and something warm and mouth-watering washed over me. I moved inside the office, every inch of my skin tingling.

Framed pictures of nude women, in chains and gagged, tied up and panting, lined the walls, snaring my gaze and instantaneously dampening my panties. My lips parted before I could stop them sucking in a gasp. I’d seen my fair share of porn and naughty images since lighting out on my own, but none of them had turned me on in the way the stark black-and-white images on the office walls did.

Perhaps it was the combination of the scent flooding my nose along with the images, but desire to be one of those women swept over me, and I bit my lower lip against the rush of warmth between my thighs.

“Who are you?”

A shiver slid over my skin as the sexy, raspy voice caressed my ears. I turned my focus on the brown-haired man behind the desk, and my heart seized, robbing me of breath.

Caramel-colored eyes squinted from a clean-shaven face with the most alluring lips I’d ever set eyes on, perfectly bowed on top and plump on bottom. I wanted to lick across his mouth, see if he tasted like I’d always expected my first kiss would.

He stood, and my gaze stalled on the tight, black T-shirt hugging every ripple of his upper body. My mouth flooded with drool, and I swallowed. Sinfully sexy. Hottest man on the planet. Temptation in the form of an apple like Satan must have offered Eve, and oh, how I wanted a bite.

I gulped as he rounded the desk and approached me, moving like a lion, silently stalking me, crowding in close enough my feet shuffled backward on instinct. He followed until I bumped into the door I hadn’t even heard close behind me.

I cursed myself from one end of D.C. to the other for how quickly timid, little Past Hannah took over my body, slouching me beneath his stare. I swallowed as I realized the heat in his eyes had nothing to do with anger, but pure lust, and I dropped my gaze from his, my heart in my throat.

He brushed some of my hair over my shoulder, his fingertips grazing along the side of my neck before he clasped my nape in his hand and squeezed.

A shudder rippled down through me, and I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning. My mind screamed danger, but my body screamed yes as he dipped his head, running his nose beneath my ear to my collarbone, his body like a furnace mere inches from me.

“Mmm. Cotton candy.” He nuzzled the hollow of my throat, tightened his hold on my neck, and turned my head, sliding his nose up toward my other ear while clasping his other hand on my waist. His hot breath pebbled my skin. “If I licked you, would you melt on my tongue like sugar?”

The man had complete control over me, something I vowed to myself would never happen again. “I-I think I’ve made a mistake,” I somehow managed to whisper past the thrumming pulse beneath the pad of his thumb.

He pulled back enough to look me in the eyes, his slow smile revealed a dimple in his right cheek. If not for the door at my back, I would have swooned. “You’re right where you belong, sugar.”

Oh, mercy, yes. My eyes clenched shut and I gulped.

© Lynn Burke 2018





ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.



Saturday, December 15, 2018

Christmas is the time for miracles, and Blossom needs one now more than ever. She just doesn’t expect her miracle to arrive in such a sexy, purple package. #romance #scifi new release @kitcatjms @changelingpress

cooltext308425478236109
cooltext308425507327884


Blossom and the Alien Actor (Intergalactic Brides 19)

Publisher: Changeling Press 
Cover Artist: Karen Fox 
Genres/Themes: Christmas, Scifi, Futuristic, Alien Encounters 
Length: 139 pages


Blossom has struggled all her life, never able to claw her way out of the worst neighborhood in Los Angeles. Her loser ex-boyfriend isn’t who she thought he was, and now she’s in deep trouble -- but Christmas is the time for miracles, and Blossom needs one now more than ever. She just doesn’t expect her miracle to arrive in such a sexy, purple package. When the notorious alien actor Brexton knocks on her door, she does what any rational woman would do -- she slams it in his face. Wishing for a miracle is one thing, but having the heartthrob of Hollywood on her doorstep isn’t what she had in mind.

Brexton has always wanted a mate and family, though he’s never been blessed with either. When he hears about a single mom who’s in trouble, he knows he can’t leave her to face her fate. Having a door slammed in his face hadn’t factored into his plans, but that one glimpse is enough for Brexton. He’d do anything to get another look at the sexy female with blue hair, and a body that would feature in all his future dreams.

Despite danger lurking around every corner, Brexton is determined to give Blossom and her children a Christmas they’ll always remember. Now that he has the family he’s always wanted, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe, and hopefully share the first of many holidays with his new mate and kids.



Also available at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo





The alien actor, Brexton, has graced us with his presence today and he's agreed to answer a few questions. Most of you are probably familiar with the sexy alien, who took Hollywood by storm when he arrived on Earth.

Brexton, thank you for joining us today. I'm sure being an actor on an alien world has its ups and downs. Can you tell us a little about it?

Brexton:  I came to Earth because I wanted the opportunity to do something different with my life. On my home world, we don't have things like music and movies, or we didn't before human brides started arriving. I made a passable warrior, but I was just one of many. Acting lets me explore a side of myself that I couldn't express on my world. There are challenges, of course, but I've found it be a very rewarding and fulfilling experience.

What was your first impression of Blossom?

Brexton: I only caught a brief glimpse at first because she was quick to slam the door in my face, but that one look was enough. It was like I'd been punched in the gut. I meet starstruck females all the time, but this time I was the one left reeling. I knew that I wanted to make her mine.

There's some speculation as to whether or not her children are really your biological kids. Anything you want to say about that?

Brexton: I don't understand why it matters if they share my blood. Even if they were fathered by someone else, they would still be my kids. When I accepted Blossom and the children into my life, they became mine. Anyone who thinks it matters what blood flows through their veins is obviously not a parent. Those kids hold my heart just as much as their mother does.

That wasn't really an answer.

Brexton: <grins> It's the only one you'll get.

Fair enough. We look forward to seeing your latest movie. Will you continue acting now that you're a family man?

Brexton: Of course! Acting is still my passion, and something I seem to excel at, but the types of movies may change. I can't bring myself to kiss another woman, not even when it's just pretend. It's painful for me, and I can only imagine how it would make my mate feel. I'd like to do more action films in the future.

Well, thank you for your time, Brexton.

Brexton: Thank you for having me!



  cooltext308425676505179
All rights reserved. 
Copyright ©2018 Jessica Coulter Smith


Brexton left the studio and climbed into the SUV he’d bought after his first movie contract. He’d been assured it was a good quality vehicle, but truthfully, humans had too many brands and names for things. Other than price, he didn’t understand the difference in a BMW and a Ford. They all had four wheels and could take you where you needed to be. Yes, some seemed nicer inside than others, and he’d learned that some had more buttons and options inside, but it seemed the name on the car often made them cost more, which made little sense to him. His manager had helped him select this vehicle with the blue and white emblem on the front. It was roomy enough for his large frame and the seats were comfortable. Nothing else mattered to Brexton.

He drove straight to the Terran station, hoping to find someone to help them. He might have been a warrior, once, but those days were behind him. Others would be better qualified to protect a woman and her children. There would be guards at the station with current warrior status, those who still practiced hand-to-hand combat, and had learned about the weapons on this world. Brexton had decided to focus his attention elsewhere, but he hadn’t taken into account the way humans were always hurting one another. He might need to schedule some training time, re-hone the kills he’d probably lost over the last ten years, in case he ever needed to defend a female or children.

He’d never been one of the elite, and he’d often wonder if it had to do with his DNA. While both his parents were Zelthranites, there was a faint trace of something else in his blood. It wouldn’t have been noticeable except Zelthranite males didn’t grow facial hair other than eyebrows, and Brexton had a full beard. He’d asked the doctors on his world about it, and they’d assured him that he had Zelthranite blood, but it seemed he was a throwback to hundreds of years ago. It had made him different, and on his world, different wasn’t always a good thing. Here he was accepted, which was why he’d left his home world at the age of nineteen. By that time, he’d been a warrior for three years and known he wasn’t right for that life.

As he entered the station, the human female at the front desk got a dreamy expression on her face. He’d seen that look before and braced himself for whatever she might say or do. He knew without the human fans, he wouldn’t have a lucrative career as an actor, but this was the part of his job he hated. Since his people were already celebrities of a sort on Earth, he hadn’t seen the harm in following this particular path. He hadn’t counted on being ten times more famous than he’d already been, and there were times it was a right pain.

“Brexton!” the human said, smiling and giving him a wave, like they were old friends. “How can I help you today? Is the new movie going well?”

He forced himself to smile. “It’s going well. Everything is on schedule.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe you could give me a tour of the studio sometime?”

“The studio does offer tours. I would be happy to put your name on the list.”

Her enthusiasm died a little when she realized he wasn’t going to personally take her around. Money and fame mattered entirely too much to the human species. It seemed to be how they determined who was worth their time and who wasn’t. He had yet to meet a genuine person, but he’d been told it had a lot to do with being part of the Hollywood elite. Apparently, he attracted the wrong type of person.

“I need to speak to the guards,” he said. “Who is on duty right now?”

She tapped at her computer a moment, then gave him a list of names and where to find them. Out of the names mentioned, he knew that Ranvik had the highest warrior ranking, and would be his best bet for saving that little family. He made his way through the station until he found the warrior surveying the departure area for the latest shuttle sending potential brides to his home world.

“Ranvik,” he said as he approached.

“If it isn’t Mr. Famous,” Ranvik said. His expression didn’t change. “To what do we owe the honor? It’s not often you grace us with your presence.”

“I see you’ve picked up human sarcasm rather well.”

Ranvik shrugged. “Have to do something to pass the time. Policing human females gets boring.”

“I need your help, or rather a human family does.”

Now he had the warrior’s attention. “What type of help?”

“I was informed there is a human female and her children who are in danger.” Brexton told the warrior what little he knew of the situation and showed him the address the human had put into his phone.

Ranvik rubbed a hand against his jaw. “I don’t have anyone to spare right now. Things are always dull at the station, but we still have to make sure all points are covered in case there’s ever trouble.”

“But this woman…”

“You were a warrior once, Brexton. I know you were young when you were training, and it’s been a long time, but those skills will still be there when you need them. You have to trust in yourself, in your abilities. You may be an actor here on Earth, but never forget who you truly are.”

He snorted. He knew who he was, and it wasn’t a proud warrior. That had never been a title he could claim. Even when he’d trained daily, he’d been average at best. Not like the warrior standing in front of him. Ranvik had a reputation back home, and the nearly forty-year-old warrior would be much better suited to rescuing the woman and her kids. What if Brexton fucked it all up? Being in the spotlight meant his every move was criticized. If the female’s boyfriend attacked and Brexton had to defend himself, someone was bound to make it sound like Brexton was at fault. He’d learned that humans tended to blame those in a position of power, whether they were responsible or not.

“I’m sorry, truly. I just can’t spare anyone right now,” Ranvik said. “And it doesn’t sound like this female and her children can afford to wait until I have time to look into it.”

Brexton ran a hand through his hair. “If I get shot, I’m going to come back and kick your ass.”

Ranvik smirked. “You could try.”

“Fine. I’ll go check on the female. But what the hell am I supposed to do with her? I figured the station would have the resources necessary to get her somewhere safely, or give her a temporary place to stay.”

“Don’t you have some massive house with like fifteen bedrooms?” Ranvik asked.

“It’s eight, not fifteen, asshole.”

Ranvik raised a brow. “Right. One male and eight bedrooms. I can’t imagine where you could possibly put one small human and her kids.”

“Take them home with me?” It was true that he had a lot of security at his home, and it would be difficult for the male to attack the small family, or kidnap them. He just hadn’t considered keeping them after he removed them from the situation.

“You’ll figure it out, superstar,” Ranvik said. “Now get the hell out of here. All the potential brides are eyeing you like a piece of candy and seem hesitant to get onto the shuttle.”

He glanced at the women and realized Ranvik spoke the truth. They were all giving him that look he’d come to think of as the be my sugar daddy simper. It never worked on him, and irritated the hell out of him, but it didn’t stop them from trying. He really did need a mate, if for no other reason than to keep the vultures away, but Zelthranites mated for life and he had yet to find a sweet, kind, genuine female he could spend his days with, and not worry that she was after his money.

Brexton left the Terran station and went back out to his car. He sighed when he saw two women lurking next to the vehicle. With some luck, they’d just want an autograph, but he was seldom that fortunate. At least, not with single females. He’d even had a few married ones hit on him, right in front of their spouses. It was shocking, and disgusting. Where he came from, mates were faithful to one another and completely devoted to each other. The lack of integrity he’d witnessed in the humans he dealt with didn’t inspire great confidence that he would ever find a mate. Not here anyway. There were other worlds that had compatible females for his kind, but the small humans had always been appealing to Brexton.

Compared to a human male, he was rather large. He’d met a few human males who were his size, but most were quite a bit shorter and not as broad. More than one human female had told him that he was intimidating, especially with his beard and longer hair. Brexton wasn’t going to try to change his appearance though. He hadn’t conformed when he’d been on his world, and he wasn’t about to start now. Besides, his size and overall looks were a sort of trademark at this point in his career.

As he neared the address on his phone, he realized the neighborhood was worse than he’d thought. Most buildings and homes had their windows boarded, and graffiti covered their walls. The fences he saw had barbed wire topping them, and every single male seemed to be armed. What he didn’t see were any law enforcement vehicles. No wonder this part of town was so out of control. No one seemed to care what happened to the people who lived here.

Brexton pulled to a stop outside of an apartment building that looked like it might fall down in a stiff breeze. He got out of his SUV and set the alarm before approaching the five-story brick structure. Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, but it was just a pack of rats scurrying into the drain. The vermin didn’t bother him like they did some people, but he knew he had to get the little family out of this place.

The door swung open easily enough, which made him frown. There was absolutely no security for a female and her children. He doubted that she would live here if she had other options, although not many humans he’d met acted in a way that made sense to him. He didn’t know what to expect when he met her. He’d seen some females on corners as he’d gotten near the address, and they’d looked hard and far too thin. The makeup caked on their faces had made them seem harsh, and he hated they’d fallen so far. Assuming they’d ever known anything other than this poverty.

Brexton found the apartment number the female at the studio had entered into his phone and he knocked, the door shaking under the force of his fist. One hard blow, and he could probably break the damn thing. He heard whispers on the other side of the door, then it opened a crack. A chain ran across the inside not quite six feet up, but even that looked incredibly weak. The small female who peered through the opening didn’t stand a chance if someone was determined to break into her home.
“I was told you need assistance,” he said, and watched as her eyes went wide.

The door slammed shut and he wondered if maybe he should have gone about this a different way. After a moment, it slowly opened, this time without the chain in place, and the dainty female looking up at him nearly took his breath away. The way his heart was racing, he started to think maybe he was the one who needed help. His body had an instant reaction to the petite blue-haired pixie, and he hoped she didn’t notice. In all his years on Earth, he’d never once had a female affect him so strongly. Something inside of him was screaming mine.

Things had definitely taken an unexpected turn.


ABOUT JESSICA


Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. Today she's a multi-published author of over seventy-five novellas and novels. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.

Find Jessica on Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / jessicacoultersmith.com.