Thursday, October 31, 2019

Book Spotlight on The Alphas Demiwolf by Gale Stanley #paranormal #PNR #werewolves









The Alpha's Demiwolf (Utopia 1)

Author: Gale Stanley
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Art: Bryan Keller
BIN: 009067-02934
Genres: Paranormal, Romance, New Adult, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance, Voyeurism and Exhibitionism, Werewolves

Blurb:

Kya: I’m a demiwolf -- half wolf, half human, and both species despise my weird mix of genes. Despite the fact I strip for a living, I’ve hung on to my virginity for twenty-two years. Until I got knocked up by a big, bad wolf. Now, I’m going to bring another demiwolf into the world, but his father will never know.

Levi: I’m all wolf, and Alpha of my pack, committed to keeping our bloodlines pure. Then on the night of my bachelor party, I hooked up with a stripper. I just wanted to teach the demiwolf a lesson, but the sex set me on fire. My wolf claimed her and now I can’t get her out of my head. But what if she won’t accept me?

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Excerpt:

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

The Alpha's Demiwolf (Utopia 1)
Gale Stanley
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Gale Stanley

Kya
I cringed when I saw the billboard proclaiming, Girls! Girls! Girls! It was a tacky way to get attention, and I hated it. Averting my eyes, I turned the corner, pulled into the lot, and parked my old pickup behind the club. It was my first night at Show ’n Tails, and a definite step down from my old job, but I’d been fired and needed a gig ASAP.
The incident wasn’t my fault. There were two of us on the stage and Brandi was so sloshed she invaded my space and fell on her ass. As if that wasn’t enough, she accused me of tripping her. Well, one thing led to another and we both got canned. Another girl told me that Show ’n Tails was hiring and I went for an audition. The manager was an asshat, but he doesn’t ask too many questions. I like to keep a low profile.

This isn’t the life I wanted, but taking off my clothes pays the bills, and I won’t apologize for trying to earn a living. At least I’m not selling my body, just the illusion of sex. A lot of girls up their game, but not me. My virginity is the last piece of self-respect I own and I won’t give it up to some creep for any amount of money.

The heavy backdoor slammed shut and locked behind me and the manager shot me a dirty look. “Hey, Kya. You’re late.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again. And my name is Raven when I’m working.”

Marty’s lip curled in a sneer. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You better get dressed. I mean undressed.” He snickered.

I ignored his disrespectful ass, and walked over to the dressing room. A row of dented lockers lined one wall. A wide counter with a lighted mirror behind it ran the length of the opposite wall. Everything stunk from sweat and cheap perfume. The long vanity was cluttered with makeup and no one made room for the new girl, so I started changing next to my locker. When a spot at the mirror opened up, I grabbed it and started working on my wild black curls.

Marty stuck his head in the door. “Hey, fresh meat, you’re on next.”

I knew he meant me. I was the newest girl there. Half of me cringed, the half that’s wolf. The half I keep hidden. Or is it a quarter of me I keep hidden? I guess it depends on how you look at it. A full-blooded wolf-shifter is already half human, although they’ll never admit to it. My father was a wolf, but my mother was human.
Does that mean I’m… Oh, fuck the fractions. No matter how you look at it, I’m a demiwolf.

But I look human. I checked my body in the mirror. Yep, a hot as hell human female stared back at me. Tacky, but sexy. Nothing says stripper like stiletto platform heels and a thong that shows off a girl’s booty. I slipped on a white, halter mini-dress with a drape-neck, an open back, and a side slit. Then I ran my hands through my curls and gave my lips one last swipe of purple-plum gloss.

It’s so much easier to call myself human and blend in with the majority. The humans are clueless. They know we exist, but they believe we keep to our own side of the tracks. The wolves are a different story. They can smell my lupine pheromones, but they don’t want me. I’m not pure. Fuck ‘em. At least I can make a living among the humans. Stripping might be a trashy job, but it pays for the life I’m trying to live. It’s not the life I want, but it’s all I’ve got. I used to dream about being accepted by my father’s people. Fat chance. They wouldn’t even accept him because he had a human lover and a half-breed kid.

My parents never married, but they lived together -- sometimes. When my father was around, I was daddy’s girl. But all too often, he would disappear as if he had no family. My mother would drink and tell me that he liked to hang out with his own kind in places where we weren’t accepted. When he came back from his trips, he’d act cold and resentful, but it wouldn’t last long. Eventually, he’d tell me he loved me and everything would be okay again. I thought nothing would keep us apart for good. I was wrong.
One day he didn’t come back. We found out he was killed in a bar fight. One of his so-called friends called me a mongrel and Dad died defending me. My mother cried and cried. She said this was why they never wanted kids. So I was what… an accident?

I couldn’t blame them. Not really. Life was hard enough without being born with this weird mix of genes. I hated myself, too. I wished I’d never been born. At least I could make things easier for my mother. As soon as I finished school, I left home and never looked back.

While waiting to go on, I thought about my routine -- floor work, then pole dancing, then back on the floor. I’m not nervous anymore about being naked in front of a roomful of men. I was at first, but now I focus on my moves. I’ve been scorned and dehumanized all my life, so I like to emphasize something I can do well -- dance.

I peeked through the curtain and watched Candy finish her routine. There’s a mirror behind the stage and a pole in the center. Chairs surrounded the stage for customers who wanted direct contact with the dancers. I watched one of the men put a bill in his mouth. Candy shoved her breasts in his face and used them to grab the money. There were hoots and hollers and more men waved bills at her. She collected all of her tips, then picked up her clothes, and ran off the stage.
The DJ, sitting in an alcove nearby, introduced me. “Next up is a beautiful lady who’s new here. You’re gonna see her naked for the first time tonight.”

Well, it’s not a complete lie. It’s my first time naked on this stage.

“Give Raven a nice warm welcome.”

My heartbeat skyrocketed as I stepped through the curtains and climbed the three steps to the stage. The opening bars of my music started up and I began to move.

* * *

Levi
My anticipation ran high. I’m always excited to see new talent. Samson made a joke about the taste of fresh meat and we all laughed, then I looked up at the stage and my eyes practically popped out of my head, like in one of those old cartoons. The new girl… what’s her name? Raven. She took my breath away. Her curvy shape and that thick black mane had me salivating. From what I could see, everything looked natural, and she had the best set of legs in the club.

“That is one hot piece of ass.” Samson stood up. “I need a closer look.”
Samson walked over to the stage and we all followed. Raven smiled in our direction and my heart took a leap. Her white mini dress emphasized all that golden skin, but it was her eyes that really stood out. Almond in shape and color, they seemed to be staring directly at me.

Author Bio and Links

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.
Some things never change.





Tuesday, October 29, 2019

Book Spotlight on Freeing the Witch by LJ Longo #PNR #ParanormalRomance #witch #wolf


I’ve written the entire Heart of the Mountain series to prove to my partner and roommate that I can write more than super dark m/m fantasies. So, if they’ve had to listen to me complain for six months about shy people in love, it’s their fault. The challenge was to take an Enemies to Lovers and explore it with genuinely sweet people. Watching this witch and wolf learn to love not just each other but themselves has made this one of my favorite stories (and probably my best to date).

FREEING THE WITCH by L.J. LONGO

BLURB
Emaula Whispel thought she’d be happy if she could live outside her mother’s magical stone tower, but when Emaula starts working as a chef at her friend's trading post, she becomes smitten with Porter, her co-cook. Now Emuala’s magic is obsessed with possessing this quiet, charming wolf, and the budding witch has to fight to control her powers and her lust, to prevent her new friend from becoming her accidental victim.
Porter was created to serve witches by opening doors into their dreams, and he is neither surprised by nor afraid of Emaula’s magic. What startles him is that this powerful witch genuinely seems to care for something as lowly as a wolf. Now all Porter has to do is prove his love for her is not an enchantment, before her mother takes away everything Emaula holds dear.

WHERE TO BUY

EXCERPT
Time was strange in the dreams. Minutes could be hours. Hours could pass in seconds.
And somewhere someone was trying to reach him. Someone wanted him and had taken measures to have him. Was is the little girl? The Munawn’s daughter. She’d be all grown-up now and remember him fondly. She must have extraordinary power to reach him.
A light came on under a door, hemming the edges with a low purple light and filling the room with that melancholic tint. The one who had shaved her hair and wore black gemstones that glowed purple. Porter knew her name, but he refused to think it. He wanted nothing to do with them. He had been turned out. He wasn’t allowed to think of them anymore. He didn’t have too.
The door creaked open, and Porter winced. Whether he wanted them or not, one of them was coming through. He didn’t have much choice. Or at least, he wouldn’t when he saw her.
The light poured into the room, flooded it with the scents of spring, vanilla, and lavender and bluebells. Intoxicating, lulling. The smell of a beautiful woman who wanted him. The fragrance of an herb sachet dropped into cold water on a hot day and stirred.
“Oh, Emaula.” Porter hadn’t smelled any magic in the tea he’d sipped as a sign of good faith. Just like him to misread a person and get bespelled. He wished Sock had come down with him. Sock wouldn’t make that mistake.
Porter struggled against the weight of her dream world and lifted himself slowly on one arm. She hadn’t fully opened the door, yet. Was just peering through, shyly.
Emaula was not a woman; she was the moon. The shadows of the world curled around and concealed half her face, leaving only the paleness around her starlight blue eyes and the soft darkness of the purple light.
Now was the time to stop her. To say something mean. To beg her to stop. To remind her of her oath. Or to … to—
Emaula divested the darkness. Unveiled her lovely face. Freed her hair, such a fine pale gold that it shone in this dream world, illuminated her thin pink lips. Porter had forgotten how beautiful the witches could be. How the sight of them stole breath, sanity, free will.
The woman could swear there was no harm in her. How could he be harmed by her? When now all he ever wanted in the world was her.
She met his gaze and smiled timidly. She stepped into the sea of sheets and pillows, delicately moving through the luxurious silks toward his body. The black silk wound around him shimmered under the radiance of her body. His stiff cock suffocated and strained under the sleek material.
The witch would get what she wanted. He had enough experience with witches to know they always did. These women could be cruel. They could be unbelievably kind, as well. And he honestly didn’t know which was worse.
He did know there was no point in defying her. No point in not taking what pleasure he could. No point in being mean to the mistress. Had that been one of The Munawn’s mantras? Or another wolf’s good advice?
Emaula knelt beside him in the bed, her hands modestly on her knees, her eyes big and earnest. “Porter, is this all right?”
He didn’t understand.
Was she asking permission? No witch did that. Had to be a trick.
He wasn’t sure what she was so embarrassed about, but she was damned cute when she was. She twisted her hands through the sheets as if she had to keep herself from touching him. “Is … is this all right?”
Was it all right? What the hell kind of question was that for a witch to ask a wolf? He wasn’t going to upset her by saying no.
The witch stroked his thigh through the sheet. His cock, already damningly stiff, pulsed at the nearness of her hand. That ought to answer her question.
He didn’t even think he wanted to say no, but how could he know the truth here? When she controlled the world? When just watching her come into the room had reduced him to nothing but a hard cock and the inner monologue of a scared puppy?
“Porter. Will you say something, please?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
L.J. is a queer author, a feminist, and a geek with an MFA in writing Popular Fiction. L.J. has an annoying tendency to ship everyone, disappear if no-one is supervising, and struggles with everything except making up stories.
Find L.J. online:
Facebook: @L.J.Longo713
Twitter: LJLongo