Leah Miles is here to tell us about Baby ConSEALed, Seal & Shelter Book 1, romantic suspense.
There's also a great giveaway.
_________________
The family he
didn't know he wanted might be the only thing worth dying for.
Baby ConSEALed
SEAL & Shelter Book 1
by Leah Miles
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Baby ConSEALed won
the 2024 Georgia Romance Writers' "Maggie Award"!
Rissa Parker struggles to support herself and her daughter
by working overnights as a home health nurse. After witnessing her employer's
murder, she has no choice but to grab her two-year-old and run toward the one
person strong enough to protect them, the Navy SEAL who fathered her child
during a one-night stand.
Navy SEAL Bernard "Burn" Cruz is a straight arrow,
approaching work and play in equal parts. He doesn't regret much in life,
except for one woman he's never forgotten. Nearly three years after their
initial encounter, she shows up in San Diego at the bar his team likes to
frequent, and he believes Forever might have knocked on his door. Until a child
cries, and all hell breaks loose.
As bullets fly and bodies drop, Rissa must outrun a killer
whose connection to her past threatens to destroy any chance at a future with
the father of her child, and Burn discovers the family he didn't know he wanted
might be the only thing worth dying for.
Baby ConSEALed, an award-winning contemporary
romantic suspense novel, is fast-paced, steamy and suspenseful. Pick up your
copy today!
“A tightly
plotted, fast-paced whirlwind of a ride fraught with secrets, danger, and an
emotional love story that focuses on family—the kind you choose.” —Lena Diaz,
Publishers Weekly best-selling author
“With a
to-die-for hero, sizzling tension, and edge-of-your-seat suspense, this romance
delivers all the feels in an unforgettable, heart-pounding read!” – Charlee Allden,
Goodreads Review
“A fast-paced,
slow-burn romantic suspense where danger, secrets, and second chances collide…. With
bullets flying and hearts on the line, Leah Miles delivers high stakes and
emotional impact in equal measure.” – Cam Torrens, Goodreads Review
Burn was admiring Jackson, the newest family member, when a
wide-eyed Rissa burst out of the kitchen and sprinted into his arms.
“Hey, beautiful.” He was glad he hadn’t demanded to hold his
nephew because now he had an armful of a warm, welcoming woman.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” Rissa said breathlessly.
He was gratified that she’d missed him. “I was only gone an
hour, but that’s a nice welcome.”
She pulled back, but not away. “Sorry … I …"
He cupped her cheek to catch her gaze. “Did you have a problem
while I was gone?”
“No, but I need this,” she said, winding her arms around his
neck and leaning on her toes to kiss him.
That was an invitation that he wasn’t going to turn down. He
pulled her closer and slid his hand into the hair at her nape to slant his
mouth more firmly over hers.
“Let’s keep this PG. The baby is watching,” said Clare, smirking
at him from where she stood with Jackson on her shoulder.
Burn chuckled and gently tucked Rissa against his side. “Give us
a break, Clare bear. We’ve been apart all afternoon.”
“More like an hour, Bernie Cruz,” Clare said, pointing a long
finger at him. Then she shifted her gaze to Rissa. “Don’t let him bully you.”
Rissa straightened. “Burn wouldn’t do that. He’s kind, and I’m
here because I want to be.”
He liked that his little Texan was ready to come to his defense.
“Easy, Tiger. My sister-in-law is an attorney and has strong opinions regarding
male testosterone.”
Clare arched a dark brow, “As long as everything is consensual
and safe, I have no problem with it.”
Burn chuckled. Their little PDA had probably already given Clare
plenty of ammunition for the next family dinner lecture, but damned if he
cared. “Rissa, this is my sister-in-law, Clare, and my nephew, Jackson. Clare,
this beautiful woman is my girlfriend, Rissa Parker,” He grinned at
Rissa when he said girlfriend, wondering how she would react.
She didn’t pull away or even look annoyed. Okay then.
Leah Miles writes romance and paranormal fiction from her
small-town in South Georgia, where she lives with her husband and cocker
spaniel while running an insurance agency and Airbnb business.
After a dozen
years in news production at CNN, Leah Miles now manages an insurance agency and
an Airbnb business in rural Georgia, while writing romantic suspense and
paranormal romance featuring take-charge heroes and fierce heroines.
Harley Wylde is here to tell us about Samson, a motorcycle club romance, featuring an age gap and suspense.
Read on for details...
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Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense
Date Published: March 27. 2026
Some men protect with promises. I protect with possession.
Samson: I don’t chase power. I don’t wear rank. I don’t
claim women. Until I find her broken, on the edge of Reckless Kings’
territory -- and realize letting her go would sign her death warrant.
Inside the gates, there’s only one way she stays. So I claim her. No
waiting. No soft edges. She sleeps in my house, under my name, with my hand
always close enough to remind the world she’s not unprotected anymore.
The man hunting her thinks I’m just another biker without authority.
He’s about to learn commitment is far more dangerous than rank.
Callie: I ran because men like him don’t hear no. They twist it. Punish
it. Being claimed should feel like another trap -- but Samson doesn’t
cage me. He stands in front of me. Believes me. Touches me like I’m
something worth keeping, not something to break.
The danger follows me straight to the compound gates. This time, it meets a
man who doesn’t hesitate… and never lets go of what’s his.
A dark Motorcycle Club Romance where obsession is protection, love is
irrevocable, and justice is served in the most painful way possible.
Perfect for fans of Romantic Crime Thrillers and MC Romance.
WARNING: Adult themes and content including: intense emotional situations,
predatory behavior, motorcycle club -- related criminal activity, trauma
recovery and psychological distress may trigger some readers.
EXCERPT
Samson
The narrow backroad twisted through Tennessee pines, a black ribbon barely
visible in the late evening darkness. I leaned into the curve, my
Harley’s engine growling beneath me, the vibration familiar against my
thighs. The headlight carved a path through the night, insects dancing in the
beam as I pushed toward the compound. Another mile and I’d be on
Reckless Kings’ territory. My gaze locked on a crumpled shape at the
edge of my light, half-hidden where asphalt met gravel and dirt.
I eased off the throttle, the bike slowing as I approached. My mind ran
through possibilities -- discarded trash, dead animal, maybe a dumped duffle
bag. But something about the shape didn’t fit any of those. The
moonlight broke through the trees just enough to catch the paleness of skin
against dark earth.
“Shit,” I muttered, slowing to a crawl.
My boots hit the asphalt as I killed the engine. The night pressed in, but I
left the bike’s running lights on, giving me just enough visibility. My
hand went to my waistband, fingers brushing the grip of my pistol. Fifteen
years with the Kings had taught me caution.
I approached slowly, scanning the tree line for movement. Nothing but night
sounds -- crickets, the occasional rustle of nocturnal creatures. The shape
resolved into a woman as I drew closer, curled on her side facing away from
the road. Her clothes -- what looked like jeans and a thin jacket -- were torn
and filthy.
“Hey,” I called, keeping my voice low but firm. “You
okay?”
She flinched hard, curling tighter, a ragged breath escaping her.
I stopped ten feet away, making myself visible in the dim glow from my bike.
“Not going to hurt you. You need help?”
She rolled slightly, turning just enough to see me. Her face was a mess --
dirt streaked with tears or sweat, hair matted against her forehead, a nasty
cut at her temple with dried blood in a smear down her cheek. But her eyes --
wide with terror -- were what caught me. The look of someone hunted.
“Go away,” she rasped.
I stayed where I was, keeping my hands visible. “You’re hurt.
Middle of nowhere. Temperature’s dropping.” I kept my voice
matter-of-fact, neither pushing nor retreating. “I can help or I can
leave. Your call.”
Her breathing came fast and shallow, the rhythm of someone running on pure
adrenaline. I’d seen it before, in Prospects during their first real
violence, in civilians caught in club business. The body burning through its
reserves before the crash came.
And she was close to crashing.
“What’s your name?” I crouched down to appear less
threatening, still maintaining distance.
She didn’t answer, just watched me with those wary eyes. Up close, I
could see the exhaustion etched into her face. Early twenties, maybe, though
hard to tell through the dirt and fear. Her knuckles were scraped raw,
fingernails broken and caked with dirt. She’d fought something or
someone.
I glanced back at the empty road, then to the dense trees. The nearest house
was miles away. Club territory began just around the next bend, but this
stretch was no-man’s-land -- the kind of place bodies got dumped. The
kind of place women didn’t end up by accident.
“I’m Samson,” I offered, not using my real name. Nobody
outside the club knew Lyle Harker existed anymore. “I’m heading
home. But I’m not leaving you out here like this.”
Her chapped lips parted as if to speak, then pressed together in pain. The
jacket she wore had ridden up, revealing bruises on her side -- fingermarks,
dark against pale skin. Recent, but not fresh. Maybe a day old.
The road remained empty behind me, but something felt off. The birds had gone
quiet. I’d spent enough years riding these backroads to know when
something wasn’t right. The woman must have sensed it too -- her gaze
darted past me toward the trees across the road.
“How long you been running?” I asked, voice even lower.
Her gaze snapped back to me, surprise breaking through the fear for just a
second.
“Your shoes.” I nodded toward her feet. The sneakers were shredded
at the edges, the once-white fabric now brown with mud and blood. “Those
have seen some miles.”
She swallowed hard, her throat working painfully. When she spoke, her voice
cracked. “Since last night.”
I spotted the edge of a zip tie mark on her wrist, peeking from beneath her
sleeve. Not from police cuffs -- those left a different kind of bruise.
Someone had restrained her, and she’d torn herself free. The skin was
raw, inflamed.
The night seemed to press closer. Despite the warm evening, goose bumps rose
on my arms. Years in the Reckless Kings had honed my instincts. Right now,
they screamed we weren’t alone.
I straightened slowly, scanning the tree line again. Nothing moved, but the
feeling persisted. Whoever had marked this woman up might be watching.
Waiting. The compound was only two minutes away by bike, but even that could
feel like an eternity if someone made their move.
“Can you stand?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the darkness
beyond the road.
She tried to push herself up and failed, collapsing back against the ground
with a soft whimper. Dehydrated, exhausted, probably not eaten in at least a
day. The dried blood on her temple concerned me -- head wounds were tricky.
Could be nothing, could be a concussion.
I made my decision. The Kings had rules about bringing outsiders anywhere near
our territory but leaving her here wasn’t an option. Not with those
marks on her. Not with whoever gave them to her potentially closing in.
“Let me help you up.” I stepped closer. “Then we’ll
figure out what comes next.”
Her eyes fixed on the patch on my cut -- Reckless Kings in bold stitching. For
a moment, fresh fear washed over her face. I knew what she saw -- a
thirty-something biker, broad-shouldered and tattooed, offering help more
dangerous than whatever she was running from.
But then her gaze drifted back to the trees, and she made her choice.
I kept my hands visible, fingers spread, as I edged closer to her. Club life
had taught me how to move without threatening -- a skill useful whether
dealing with rival MCs or frightened women on backroads. Her gaze locked onto
my every movement, muscles tensed to flee despite her exhaustion. Behind the
fear in her eyes lurked something sharper -- calculation, survival instinct.
Whatever hell she’d escaped from had taught her to think even when
terrified.
“Water?” I asked, I retreated to grab the bottle in my saddlebag.
I unscrewed the cap and held it out, still maintaining distance. “Small
sips. Too much at once will make you sick.”
She stared at the bottle, conflict evident on her face -- desperate thirst
warring with ingrained caution. Thirst won. She reached out with trembling
fingers, taking the bottle and bringing it to her cracked lips. Water dribbled
down her chin as she drank greedily, ignoring my advice.
“Easy,” I warned. “Been without long?”
She lowered the bottle, gasping slightly. Half-empty already. “Since
yesterday morning.”
I crouched down to her level, still giving her space. The dried blood at her
temple formed a jagged path down to her jaw. Head wound, but not fresh --
maybe twenty-four hours old. No active bleeding, pupils equal size. Good
signs.
“Mind if I look at your head?” I asked.
She flinched back. “Don’t touch me.”
I nodded, respecting the boundary. “Fair enough. Can you tell me your
name?”
A pause. She took another drink. “Callie.”
“Callie,” I repeated, keeping my voice steady. “You got
somewhere safe to go, Callie?”
Her laugh came out hollow, more air than sound. “Nowhere’s
safe.”
“Someone after you?”
Her gaze darted back to the road. She didn’t answer, but she
didn’t need to. The zip tie marks, the bruises, her terror -- they told
enough of the story.
“How bad are you hurt? Besides what I can see.”
She shrugged one shoulder, wincing at the movement. “I’ll
live.”
“That’s a low bar.”
Her eyes met mine, surprising me with a flash of defiance. “Higher than
it was yesterday.”
I found myself respecting her -- the spark still burning beneath all the fear
and pain. The Kings valued resilience. This woman had it in spades.
“What happened to your head?” I asked, nodding toward the wound.
She touched it gingerly. “I’m not sure. Not the first time,
though. This one isn’t as bad as the first time I tried to run.”
The casual way she said it raised the hair on my neck, like getting hurt
counted as just another Tuesday. I’d seen that kind of detachment before
in people who normalized violence to survive.
“You need a hospital?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
She shook her head vehemently. “No. They’ll look there.”
“They?”
Her mouth clamped shut, fear returning to her eyes.
“All right,” I said, backing off. “No hospitals.”
Wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and something else
-- the metallic tang of coming rain. The temperature had dropped another few
degrees. Callie shivered, her thin jacket providing minimal protection against
the night air.
I glanced at my watch. Nearly midnight. The compound was close but bringing
her there would mean questions. Hard ones.
“Let me see your hands,” I said.
She hesitated, then extended them. She’d need medical care.
“You fight back,” I observed.
A small, grim smile. “Always.”
I respected that too.
“When’s the last time you ate?”
She shrugged again. “Not sure.”
“Can you stand?”
She tried, bracing against the ground. Her legs wobbled, threatening to
collapse. I reached out instinctively, stopping just short of touching her.
“May I?”
She nodded, reluctance clear in every line of her body. I slipped an arm
around her waist, supporting her weight as she found her footing. She felt too
light, bones sharp beneath skin meant to hold more weight. Malnourished, and
not just from two days without food.
“You’re not cops,” she said, nodding toward my cut.
“But you’re something.”
“Something,” I agreed, not elaborating. The less she knew about
the Kings, the better -- for her safety as much as ours.
She swayed on her feet, and I tightened my grip slightly to keep her upright.
She flinched at the pressure but didn’t pull away.
“I need to get you somewhere safe,” I said.
“Nowhere’s safe,” she repeated, but with less conviction.
“Safer than here.”
A distant sound pierced the night -- an engine, far off but approaching.
Callie’s entire body tensed, her breathing accelerating into near
hyperventilation.
“That them?” I asked.
She nodded, panic overriding caution.
Decision time. I knew taking her to the compound would have consequences. Was
I prepared to face them?
“I’ve got a place,” I said, making my choice. “People
who can help. But you need to trust me, just for tonight.”
“Why would you help me?” she asked, suspicion threading through
the fear. “You don’t know me.”
A fair question. One I’d asked myself.
“Because years ago, I was on the wrong side of some bad men,” I
said simply. “Someone helped me then. Sometimes that’s reason
enough.”
Not the whole truth, but enough of it. The Kings had saved me from a life
heading nowhere fast, given me purpose, family. Some debts you pay forward.
“I don’t have another option, do I?” she asked.
“You always have options,” I said. “Right now, they’re
just all bad ones. I’m offering the least bad one I can.”
She glanced toward the sound of the approaching engine, then back to me.
Weighing unknown dangers against the devil she knew.
About the Author
Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances.
With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her
readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works
exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a
satisfying note each time.
When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and
other exciting perks.
Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15
Angela Knight is here to tell us about Armored Hearts, an enemies-to-lovers sci-fi/suspense romance with BDSM and vampires.
Read on for details...
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An Enemies to Lovers Sci-Fi BDSM Vampire Romance
Sci-Fi Romance / Suspense
Date Published: March 20, 2026
Publisher: Changeling Press
Captivity makes the heart grow kinkier...
When interstellar mercenary Captain Nick Rand rescues a beautiful enemy from
his own men, he thinks she's the answer to his vampire prayers. On the verge
of starvation thanks to the destruction of his hemosynther, he's in desperate
need of a female blood donor.
Lieutenant Zara Tahir needs Nick Rand as badly as he needs her. Without Nick's
blood, Zara's overactive immune system will kill her.
But Zara has no intention of embracing captivity. While she's willing to
exchange blood for blood, maybe even play a kinky game or two with the
handsome vampire dominant, he's still the enemy. She can't allow herself to
see him as anything more.
Then Rand's enemies make things a lot more complicated...
Hunger chewed Captain Nick Rand until he felt like a bone in a wolf's jaws. It
wasn't just a hunger of the body, though his gut felt hollow and his hands had
a tendency to shake. Didn't matter how much food he ate, how much water,
coffee, or whiskey he drank. None of it touched the craving that gnawed at his
brain, making it hard to think about anything but what he needed. Even now,
when the enemy might be drawing a bead on his skull, all he wanted was blood.
Hot, red and seductive as a siren -- a taste that reminded him of sex and the
cool touch of a woman's hands.
Rand fought to ignore that bottomless need. He didn't have time for it now, no
matter how hungry he was. Enemy temp shelters surrounded him, dome shapes
dappled with camouflage until they were indistinguishable from the forest
floor.
They made his shoulder blades itch.
Invisible, a silencer field muting the sound of his footfalls, he padded
between the shelters, beam rifle raised as he swept its muzzle from side to
side, scanning for potential attackers. His stomach growled so loudly he
wondered if the noise could be heard outside his silencer field. He ignored
his hunger, fighting to concentrate past the savage need. As he'd been
fighting for every endless hour of the previous nine days.
Instead, Rand focused on the familiar process of searching the enemy camp. He
could hear the rasp of his breathing in his helmet as he ducked into one empty
tent after another, though the silencer muted the sound past four or five
centimeters.
In his helmet com, he heard the murmur of his men reporting in as they
filtered through the camp, searching for the enemy. They had no more luck than
he'd had. The Falaran Coalition battalion had melted into the surrounding
forest, leaving behind smashed equipment, hastily abandoned meals and wrecked
temporary shelters. Apparently they'd been alerted to the approach of the
G.A.E. force at the last minute, dropped everything, and run like hell. Wise
of them, considering they were outgunned and outmanned. The colony was small,
without the economic resources Godsson's more established planetary population
could command. Their armor was certainly no match for the G.A.E.'s.
Still, they could have left someone behind. Maybe in camouflage armor like his
own, surrounded by a field of energy that bent light, rendering the sniper
invisible.
But you could bend all the light you wanted to, and it wouldn't stop Rand from
picking up your scent. Vampires had great noses. And great speed, great
endurance, and enough raw strength to take on a mech unit with no backup at
all.
Which was why he had been hired in the first place, despite the G.A.E.'s
disdain for mercenaries in general and vampires in particular. The generals
who led the Glorious Army of the Enlightened didn't know a damned thing about
war. Nick Rand, on the other hand, had spent the past two decades fighting in
a dozen wars on a dozen planets. His combat reflexes weren't just muscle
memory -- they were burned in all the way down to his DNA.
Which was why the G.A.E.'s brass had decided they could ignore his food
preferences.
He moved in a liquid glide into the next tent. Sweeping his rifle over the
whole space in a smooth arc, he ordered a sensor scan. The answer came back a
heartbeat later. Sensor scan completed. No enemy located, said the computer
implanted at the base of his brain. He breathed deep, scenting the air just to
be sure. And froze.
The tent belonged to a woman. Actually, more than one. Perfume lingered in the
air: lilacs and star roses and the natural scent of female bodies. Rand
inhaled, drinking in the lush aroma. His eyes closed for just a heartbeat as
he imagined the taste of blood and pussy.
Months. It had been months since he'd had a woman. Godsson taught females were
corrupting influences who'd blunt his soldiers' warrior instincts. He insisted
women belonged at home, teaching their children piety and submission to the
will of their Most Exalted -- i.e., Godsson himself.
Yeah, right. Why the female cultists tolerated this airlock blow, Rand had no
idea. It was no wonder the million or so Falarans had refused to join
Godsson's six million plus worshipers, badly outnumbered or not.
I should never have taken this fucking job. Never mind that he'd needed work.
Peace had broken out all over with its usual rotten timing. Absolutely no one
had been hiring. Had it not been for Godsson's decision to invade the
neighboring planet Falara, Rand would have been forced to find a security job,
and he hated bodyguard work with a passion.
But after a year with the G.A.E., the idea of keeping some arrogant prick
alive was starting to sound pretty damned good. For one thing, he wouldn't be
slowly starving to death among zealots who considered him a pervert.
He wished G.A.E. HQ would quit fucking around and send him a new hemosynther.
The last time he'd commed them, Supplies and Requisitions claimed the 'synther
was on order, scheduled to arrive from Earth next week in a shipment of
medical equipment. Rand had told the requisitionist it had better, or he was
coming to HQ to sink his teeth into something with a pulse.
The man had blanched. As if Rand would touch his sweaty neck with a nine meter
radiation probe. His blood would probably taste like burned coffee and stale
doughstries anyway.
Growling under his breath, Rand left the tent -- and heard the scream coming
from the other end of camp. A woman's voice, crying out in rage and pain.
He was running before the echo died.
* * *
If she hadn't been so sick, she could have made the G.A.E. bastards pay a
higher price when they found her in the middle of the camp. Unfortunately, it
had been more than a month since her vampire had died, and Lieutenant Zara
Tahir was deep in blood sickness.
They surrounded her, a yelling, laughing mob of massive shapes in helmets and
black armor emblazoned with Godsson's halo and planet logo. Those suits gave
them enough raw power to take on a blast tank and win.
Even so, Zara hadn't made it easy for them. Even in her lighter V.S.S. armor,
she had the advantage in speed and agility. Fighting ferociously, she
triggered a spontaneous nosebleed. Feeling the hot wetness rolling down her
upper lip as she spun and kicked, she snarled. It had been far too long since
she'd tasted vampire blood. Wouldn't be long before her own immune system
killed her.
Not that these fuckers would give it the chance. They were pissed, and they
planned to kill her. And worse.
About the Author
New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published
more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and
Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades,
Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement
award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for
Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.
Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press
LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work,
Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South
Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband,
Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police
department.
Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Impulse Caught, a Sticks & Stones romance, Marisburg Chronicles 9, MM romantic suspense.
Read on for details...
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A Sticks & Stones Romance
Marisburg Chronicles 9
M/M Romance Suspense
Date Published: March 6, 2026
Publisher: Changeling Press
Riku takes charge in bed, but will he have any control over the
day-to-day decisions of a marriage?
Money and status differences challenge Riku and Theo to find a middle ground.
Their passion is white-hot, but their ideas of living comfortably are at odds.
As their wedding nears, driven forward by Theo’s parents’ sense of
guilt, Riku feels the old urge to run.
Riku refuses to give into this impulse at first, but as the comparison between
his emotional scars and the mountains of Theo’s familial expectations
grow, Riku fears running will be the only less-than-honorable course left to
him.
Theo isn’t blind to Riku’s struggles but he doesn’t
understand what’s wrong. Each time he reaches out, Riku reaches back,
yet they never quite connect. Will their need for each other overcome their
differences, or will their passion be subsumed by a wave of conflicting
desires?
Excerpt
It was the day after the children had left for the summer. There would
be ESY, of course, extended school year, but Riku hadn’t been asked to
participate. He’d only been a teacher at the Colton school for the deaf
since January, so it made sense he wouldn’t be first pick for ESY. He
would have normally chewed over that until he was ill, but since Theo had gone
back to work in February, they were living relatively comfortably.
Riku’s student loans still put a squeeze on him, but he could manage
without panicking.
He was sorting through papers posted on the walls. Most of them had gone home
with their makers yesterday, but there were a few that hadn’t been
collected. These he grouped into a folder he marked “leftover
assignments” and stored for early September.
The brush of Theo’s medium brown hair on his green-clad shoulders made
Riku think of a book he’d read in high school. It had been about a man
who could sing magic into the world. His hair had been red as his Irish
heritage, but the physical differences didn’t matter. Theo could
definitely have sung magic into Riku’s heart, or anywhere else he chose.
His broad shoulders stretched the T-shirt over his pectorals and his shorts
showed off his long, muscular legs.
If they weren’t at school, Riku would have suggested they quit working
and go goof off instead. Unfortunately, they weren’t in their rented
room in Marisburg.
Turning his attention back to his chosen task, he went to the bookshelf and
started organizing the books. Ninety percent of the books were in print, but
the remaining ones were in print and braille, for his students who, like Theo,
had Usher Syndrome or other hearing/vision challenges. He wasn’t the
braille teacher, could barely feel the dots under his fingers, truth be told.
Still, he liked the idea of providing all kinds of different access to
literature. Probably that was part of what made him an effective English
teacher.
With his back to Theo as he organized the books, he reflected that today most
likely wouldn’t see the two of them making love.
Half a year ago, Theo’s parents, courtesy of his father’s quick
tongue, had alienated themselves from their son. Mr. Billings had told Theo
that if he could prove himself self-sufficient for six months, he would be
welcomed back into the familial fold. Theo’s father had apologized, all
but falling over his words in an attempt to retreat from the ultimatum but
Theo had taken up the challenge.
Now it was the end of that six months. Theo hadn’t been out of
communication with his parents, but certain topics, like his relationship with
Riku, had been off-limits. As had his access to the family fortunes.
Theo had been, for the past six months, surviving on his own brilliant mind
and on his ability to work from anywhere. Today, though, Theo would be
reopening full communication with his parents.
Riku wasn’t sure if he should be dreading that time as much as he was.
It wasn’t that Theo hadn’t been talking to his parents. He just
hadn’t accepted any monetary handouts from them, and he’d refused
to discuss his relationship with Riku. It was easy to trust him, to believe he
had suspended those ties temporarily. Theo was prideful and wouldn’t
bend. Besides, the two of them had engaged in actual arguments about money,
like any other couple.
Riku found himself smiling. Those fights had always ended in makeup sex,
almost like they were a new kind of foreplay. He hadn’t always won the
arguments, like the one they’d had about moving out of his ex’s
house and into a rented room.
To save on money, he’d wanted to stay “just a little longer”
despite the fact that they’d been sleeping on an air mattress in his
ex’s living room. The word “uncomfortable” didn’t
begin to define that situation but it had felt safe because Riku had been able
to pay bills without worrying where he would rest at night.
Theo had ultimately been the hero of that fight because he’d shown Riku
how selfish he was being. His lover had managed it without making Riku feel
bad, which was almost a miracle.
So, why was he so tangled up about bringing the Billings parents back into the
picture? They’d apologized for calling him Theo’s Asian fetish,
which was apparently the worst offense in their eyes. Shouldn’t he
forgive them?
No, he thought. There’s an essential disconnect between how I view the
world and how they do. We can’t resolve that.
Hands closed on his shoulders, and he realized he’d been standing still
instead of cleaning. He relaxed into the familiar touch of Theo’s
skilled fingers as Theo began massaging his shoulders and that spot where he
carried ninety percent of his tension, which was at the base of his skull. He
must have been unmoving for quite a while because Theo, partially deaf and
visually impaired as well, sometimes missed things that happened around him.
He’d noticed today, though.
Riku turned and Theo dropped one hand into Riku’s palm. He signed,
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m borrowing trouble,” he said and signed. He caught the
light playing over Theo’s hair and reached up to touch a lock that had
fallen in front of Theo’s eyes. “You’re gorgeous, you know
that?”
“Thank you.” He laughed. “I do know, but I also am aware
that you’re avoiding talking about whatever’s bothering you.
What’s wrong?”
Riku shook his head, remembered Theo might not be able to see that, and
answered, “I don’t want to talk about it here.”
“Maybe we should go home, and we should resume this cleaning
tomorrow?”
He didn’t want to go back to the rented room and face Theo’s
parents. “I’d better finish up here or it’s going to drag on
all summer.”
“By yourself?”
“You can go back if you want,” Riku offered.
“Why don’t I stay with you, keep you out of your head?”
Riku hugged him, feeling the warmth of Theo’s skin on his forehead as he
leaned against him. “I love you. Thank you for understanding how much I
need you to be with me right now.”
Theo kissed him, angling his head so their noses didn’t bump. “I
love you.” He smacked Riku’s hip lightly. “Now. Let’s
get cleaning. I don’t just love you.” He signed into Riku’s
hand. “I crave your touch.”
“And my mouth, I hope,” Riku signed back. “I’ve wanted
to taste you for days.”
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.
Savannah (Savvy) Colter is not easily overwhelmed, which is a good thing, since she is the sheriff of Edwards County. It’s rare to find someone her age— a woman to boot—carrying such responsibility, but over the years, Savvy has more than proven herself worthy of the position…to most.
However, when in a matter of a few weeks an old flame resurfaces in Silence, and two particularly violent murders land on her desk, her steady and predictable life becomes a little much to handle.
New full-time single parent, Nate Gaines, reluctantly returns to his hometown, Silence, to offer his teenage daughter some much-needed stability. As a contractor he can work anywhere, and it’s not like he left a particularly fulfilling life behind, but he’s not too sure how much work he’s going to get here.
Although, some of the changes he encounters in Silence are a surprise. The most shocking one is seeing the woman he once craved like air, now wearing the sheriff’s badge he so despises.
Coming home is definitely not turning out the way he’d envisioned. Especially when a sudden crime spree has the law knocking on his door…again.
USA Today bestselling author Freya Barker loves writing about ordinary people with extraordinary stories.
With forty-plus books already published, she continues to create characters who are perhaps less than perfect, each struggling to find their own slice of happy.
Recipient of the ReadFREE.ly 2019 Best Book We've Read All Year Award for "Covering Ollie, the 2015 RomCon “Reader’s Choice” Award for Best First Book, “Slim To None”, Finalist for the 2017 Kindle Book Award with “From Dust”, and Finalist for the 2020 Kindle Book Award with “When Hope Ends”, Freya spins story after story with an endless supply of bruised and dented characters, vying for attention!
Belle Ami is here to tell us about the Toxic Love series, dark romantic suspense.
There's also a great giveaway.
______________________
Their past was painful,
Their love undeniable,
Their future unbreakable…
Toxic Attraction
Toxic Love Series Book 1
by Belle Ami
Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense
I knew the moment
I saw her that she was mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Adelia Lindstrom is a rising star in the elite equestrian world, struggling to
move forward after the devastating loss of her parents. When she meets
billionaire banker Miles Bremen and his enigmatic twin sister, Karolin, her
world takes an unexpected turn.
Miles is more than dangerous—he exudes a bold, unapologetic sensuality that
pulls Adelia into uncharted territory. With him, she discovers a side of
herself she never knew existed: passionate, daring, and irresistibly drawn to
his magnetic allure. But behind his seductive charm lies a darkness that keeps
her on edge, making her question whether surrendering to his world will set her
free or destroy her.
Toxic Attraction is a steamy,
edge-of-your-seat dark romance thriller that explores the intoxicating power of
passion and the risks of losing control.
Tropes include: enemies to lovers,
really dark romance, age gaps, obsessive anti-hero, possessive
protector, morally gray hero, protective and stalking, kidnapping,
forbidden love, revenge gone wrong.
Trigger Warnings: This series
contains dark and mature themes, including an extremely possessive alpha hero
with an "I will destroy anyone who threatens the heroine" intensity,
emotional manipulation, kidnapping, and intense romantic conflict. Readers should
be aware of potential triggers and are encouraged to review the detailed
trigger warnings inside each book. Books 1 and 2 end in cliffhangers, but the
series concludes with an HEA in Book 3.
Please note: Toxic Attraction is a revised and revamped
version of The One by Belle Ami (published in 2014)
**Get it on sale - Kindle countdown deal Feb 3-10!!**
I failed her, and
I’ll never forgive myself. But I’ll do whatever it takes to win her back—even
if it costs me everything.
Adelia Lindstrom Bremen thought she had found her forever love in Miles Bremen.
Their fiery connection gave her everything she thought she wanted, including
Fallyn and Liam, their twins. But their passion burned too hot, and betrayal
shattered their marriage, leaving her to rebuild her life.
When her children are abducted, Adelia turns to FBI Agent David Weiss for help.
As they work together to bring her children home, David’s steady presence
offers her a haven of calmness she never experienced with Miles. But Miles
isn’t ready to let her go, and his bold, unrelenting desire for her reignites
everything she thought she’d left behind.
Now caught between two men—one who offers safety and the other who awakens her
soul—Adelia must navigate a high-stakes game where love, obsession, and danger
intertwine.
Toxic Deception is a dark
romance thriller that will grip you with its passion, betrayal, and
heart-pounding suspense. Tropes include enemies to lovers, really dark romance, age gaps, obsessive
anti-hero, possessive protector, morally gray hero, protective and
stalking, kidnapping, forbidden love, revenge gone wrong.
Trigger Warnings: This series
contains dark and mature themes, including an extremely possessive alpha hero
with an "I will destroy anyone who threatens the heroine" intensity,
emotional manipulation, kidnapping, and intense romantic conflict. Readers should
be aware of potential triggers and are encouraged to review the detailed
trigger warnings inside each book. Books 1 and 2 end in cliffhangers, but the
series concludes with an HEA in Book 3.
Please note: Toxic Deception is a revised and revamped version
of The One and More by Belle Ami (published in 2014)
I’ll fight for
her, even if it kills me. She taught me how to love—and now I’ll prove I’m
worthy of her.
Adelia Lindstrom Bremen has faced heartbreak, betrayal, and danger at every
turn. Her parents’ deaths were no accident, her marriage to Miles ended in a
vicious custody battle, and now she’s caught between two men—Miles, the
enigmatic billionaire who awakened her deepest desires, and David, the steady
force she thought she needed.
Miles has always embodied bold passion and unapologetic sensuality, but Adelia’s
love has sparked something unexpected in him—a desire to change, to be the man
she deserves. When Adelia becomes the target of a serial killer hunting climate
scientists, Miles must confront his darkness and fight for the woman who made
him believe in redemption.
As danger looms and secrets unravel, Adelia must decide if love can truly
transform, or if passion and peril will consume her. Can Miles prove he’s more
than the man who broke her heart? And will Adelia find the courage to trust the
one who has always owned her soul?
Toxic Redemption is the
electrifying conclusion to the Toxic Love series—a dark
romance thriller where love is as dangerous as it is transformative.
Tropes include enemies to lovers, really dark romance, age gaps, obsessive
anti-hero, possessive protector, morally gray hero, protective and
stalking, kidnapping, forbidden love, revenge gone wrong.
Trigger Warnings: This series
contains dark and mature themes, including an extremely possessive alpha hero
with an "I will destroy anyone who threatens the heroine" intensity,
emotional manipulation, kidnapping, and intense romantic conflict. Readers
should be aware of potential triggers and are encouraged to review the detailed
trigger warnings inside each book. Books 1 and 2 end in cliffhangers, but the
series concludes with an HEA in Book 3.
Please note: Toxic Redemption is a revised and revamped
version of One More Time is Not Enough by Belle Ami (published
in 2016)
Belle Ami writes
breathtaking historical fiction, captivating historical romance, and gripping
romantic thrillers. Creating unforgettable characters and crafting complex
stories, Belle’s writing reflects the redemptive power of love and the strength
of the human spirit.
A former Kathryn
McBride scholar of Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania, Belle, is also a proud
recipient of the RONE, RAVEN, Readers’ Favorite Award, and the Book Excellence
Award.
Belle’s passions
include hiking, boxing, skiing, cooking, travel, and of course, writing. She
lives in Southern California with her family.
