New release from Changeling Press and a new raffle!

New release:  Hooked Up, part of the Earth Con series from Changeling Press, in which aliens take advantage of a popular convention to mix in with Earthers.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2474

For years, Mora has studied the ancient art of sex in the literature and history of her planet, Vesta. Now she's been assigned to visit Earth to discover, hands-on, how sex is performed so she can re-teach the pleasures of the flesh to her people. Unfortunately, she's been paired with an aristocratic prig who prides himself on tight control of his emotions and denial of any sensual pleasure. Thank the Universe he's a handsome devil, or the job would be impossible.

Laer has spent his life in pursuit of the intellectual over the carnal. Unfortunately, he scores high on Mora's so-called tests of sensuality. Now he's been assigned to a mission to Earth to study how to give and receive sexual pleasure. Watching a pair of Earthers make love opens up a new reality for him, but what follows between him and Mora in the bedroom steals not only his dignity but his heart.

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And now for an excerpt:

Chapter One

An exquisitely sensitive and crucial mission, and Mora’s home planet had assigned her a stiff-backed, high-born, coldly intellectual, self-satisfied prig of a partner to complete it. At least, he looked good, which would be a benefit. Her job, after all, was to teach the man how to enjoy sex.

Laer Mi-Artes Yar DoCardi, Scion of the First House stared around him at all the Earthers and their colorful costumes in obvious disapproval. He’d deny was doing it, of course. Contempt was an emotion, after all, and he held those in… well… contempt. She’d have to help him get over his aversion because sex was something Earthers understood, and whether he liked it or not, Earthers would be their teachers.

The gathering called EarthCon attracted an odd bunch of the planet’s inhabitants -- people who liked to dress up in costumes and impersonate characters from their popular fiction. Luckily, those characters were largely beings Earthers referred to as “aliens,” as if coming from this small, insignificant planet qualified one as normal and everyone else in the Universe as other. Still, the premise of the conference suited Vesta’s needs as Vestans could pass easily among the attendees despite the Vestans’ sixth finger on each hand and the color of their skin, which an Earther would describe as “aquamarine.”

Mora watched Laer as they walked among the crowd in the main exhibition hall. Haughty to the extreme -- a trait considered a virtue among Vesta’s ruling class -- Laer could ruin the mission by rejecting any kind of involvement with the participants at the conference. She’d have to remind him again and again, if need be, about the importance of the task before them and how his cooperation was mandatory.

“This entire endeavor is ridiculous,” he muttered. “I don’t know why I have to mingle with this great horde of the unwashed.”

“It seems to me they’re very well washed, indeed. There’s a shower in every hotel room.” The idea of bathing in water had taken some adjustment, but after a few tries, slicking oneself with soap and splashing it off had become quite pleasurable. Especially in the huge sunken tub in their luxury room. Another sensual experience to introduce to their home planet. Along with the obvious they’d come here to explore -- copulation. She’d have to overcome a great deal of resistance in that regard with Laer.

“What’s the one over there supposed to be?” Laer said, pointing a long finger in the direction of an Earther dressed in little more than strategically placed feathers.

Mora grabbed his hand. “It isn’t polite to point.”

He lifted an aristocratic brow. “It’s a simple enough question.”

Mora regarded the Earther. They’d both studied the various personalities of the local mythology, but this one had her stumped. “I don’t know. Some kind of bird-creature perhaps.”

The bird-creature in question had spotted them, and instead of taking offense at Laer’s pointing at her, appeared to view it as an invitation to approach. She sauntered over and gazed up at Laer from under feathered eyelashes. “Hey, you’re kind of cute.”

Mora held her breath waiting for his reaction. Luckily, he responded out of his training, not his natural inclination to bluntly order the woman out of his sight. He did nothing. He might have straightened a bit. At his considerable height, it was hard to tell.

“That’s a neat costume.” The Earther took his hand and studied his fingers. “Do all of these work?”

In answer, he clenched his hand into a fist around the Earther’s. Clenched his jaw, too. He probably wouldn’t tolerate too much more contact.

“Ooooh,” the Earther said. “Must be fun in bed.”

Mora reached over and gently removed Laer’s hand from the Earther’s. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Yours, too, I’m sure.” The Earther looked Laer over from top to bottom. “He has big hands and feet. Nice.”

The implication came through -- he’d be well-endowed sexually. A quaint superstition among these people. Laer obviously took its meaning because he glared at Mora, asking without words how much of this familiarity he was required to tolerate.

“My friends and I are having a special kind of party in my suite,” the bird-creature said. “Adult fun, if you know what I mean.”

“That sounds intriguing,” Mora said.

“You could come, too.” The bird-creature batted her eyelashes at Laer again. “Suite 650. Seven pm.”

Laer managed to maintain his composure, but Mora knew him well enough now to detect some cracks in his calm façade.

“We’re tired, having travelled light years to get here,” Mora said.

“Yeah, sure.” The Earther waved a dismissive hand and then leaned into Laer, splaying her fingers over his chest. “Suite 650.”

Before the cracks in his control turned into fissures, Mora stepped between him and the Earther. “I’m afraid he’s mine. And beware, my bite is venomous.”

“Kinky,” the Earther said. “Whatever floats your boat. Suite 650 at seven.”

Finally, the bird creature moved away but not without glancing over her shoulder to give Laer a smoldering look.

“Must I…” He hesitated for a moment. “Copulate with this Earther?”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2474

New Release: Aisle 6 (and a new raffle)

Now out from Changeling Press!  Aisle 6

Trish is doing her usual thing -- checking out the hot guy she calls The Bod at the supermarket -- when she discovers a weird anomaly in aisle 6. When she gets too close, she finds herself transported to another time and place, and The Bod is waiting for her, dressed as a desert sheik. Anders wants to help Trish work out her sexual fantasies. On the fun scale, it sure beats her job in the IT department.

Anders has been tasked to save his species by mating with a woman from a different version of Earth. Trish is his most compatible DNA match. He must keep her with him by any means possible and give her as much sex as she can stand. But will his deception force them apart?

Cleanup on Aisle 6!

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2429

And on December 20, I'll be raffling off this cowl to someone on my newsletter list.  Sign up at right.

An excerpt:

That cute guy was back at the supermarket again. Trish Swanson had watched him for weeks now. Setting out melons and handling tomatoes gently -- like a lover. Most of all climbing to reach something on the top shelf for tiny Mrs. Gilmore. Despite her seventy-odd years, Mrs. G's eyes sparkled whenever he did it. In fact, the old lady was probably putting him up to it and didn't really need the generic, canned dog food up there. As far as Trish knew, she didn't even have a dog. But when he stretched out to his full height, the muscles in his shoulders bunched and released, and he gave anyone watching a good look at a major-league ass. After a while, Trish and Mrs. Gilmore had coordinated their shopping schedules with his shifts so they could both enjoy the view at least once a week.

Today, Mrs. G hadn't shown up, and Trish remained at her station in the pet food aisle. She'd spotted The Bod, as Trish had come to think of him, in the produce section. He'd probably mosey over this way in a minute or two, and if the old lady didn't show up, Trish would either have to confront him herself or wait until next Wednesday for another ogling session.

He rounded the end of the aisle and headed in her direction.

Immediately, her mouth went dry, and her heartbeat started an erratic pitter-pat. She'd always been a complete dunce around good-looking men. Hell, all men. If she were to try to speak to this one, she'd probably stutter and blurt out something that said nothing more than "I'm an idiot."

He had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Not light blue like robin's eggs but more the hue of a cloudless, California sky. Deep, dark, and dangerous. His chestnut hair and pale skin made him stare-worthy, but his most remarkable feature had to be the dimples that appeared at the corners of his mouth when he smiled. And he always smiled. He was doing it right now.

"Hello," he said. One simple, very ordinary word. But it had a lilt to it. Almost an accent, as if English wasn't his first language. He was Latino, maybe. Or Irish. French?

Whatever the origin of his speech, it drove any response right out of her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out, so she lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. God, what a moron. Why did she have to be so damned shy?

"Where's your friend?" he said.

"Hmm?" Still stupid, but at least she'd said something.

"The older lady. I assumed you must drive her here," he said. "I always see you together."

"Mrs. Gilmore... no, she and I... that is... I only see her here. With you."

He laughed. "I don't drive her here."

"Of course, you don't. I just meant..." Anything she'd meant would make her sound even more foolish than she already did. She surely hadn't wanted to suggest that he and Mrs. G knew each other from somewhere else or staged their performances for her benefit. If she didn't have anything intelligent to say, she'd keep her mouth shut. So she did exactly that.

He rested an elbow on a shelf and struck a casual pose. Not going anywhere for a while, obviously. His posture only emphasized his considerable height and the breadth of his shoulders. He could hardly have shown himself off to better effect except maybe by bending over. Where was Mrs. G when Trish needed her?

"Can I help you with something?" he asked. His voice had taken on a husky tone... the kind you heard in the bedroom after particularly good sex. Not that she'd shared those delightful moments with too many men, but you didn't have to experience that often to have the sensations imprinted in your brain. The dimples in his cheeks and the light in his eyes told her he knew exactly what message he was conveying to her. He had to be supremely confident that she'd be receptive. Luckily for both of them, he'd calculated correctly.

"Help?" she said. There, that came off as casual. More or less.

"You appear to be searching for something. I'm here to make sure you find it."

"Well, since you asked..." What could she make him search for? Dog food upper shelf? Cat litter lower? Mrs. Gilmore always knew how to get him to show off his build to best effect.

He held up a hand. "Never mind. I know."

"You do?" Well now, that could be embarrassing. He'd figured out their little game? Drat. Could he sue them for sexual harassment?

"Aisle 6," he said. "Everything you want is there."

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2429

New release: Garden of Delights from Changeling Press

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2378

Book Summary

Wendy has to win the local garden show. Not only does she need to save her business, but she also wants revenge over her former lover and partner who absconded with the company assets. Her local nurserywoman and friend directs her to a special place that can supply erotic plants for Wendy's exhibit. Sex sells, so she can't lose, right? What she doesn't count on is encountering a mysterious man named Sage who claims he's her guide. He guides her, all right, to physical intimacy more sublime than she's thought possible. When Wendy commits the unthinkable in her efforts to defeat her ex-lover, only Sage can guide her back to the right path. Chapter One Normally, the sight of a garden center, newly stocked for spring planting, would make Wendy Stewart’s spirits soar, but she’d never had to worry about how to pay the bill before. And she’d never have guessed she’d be flat broke right before the biggest show of the season. Hell, she’d probably have to break her piggy bank to buy the six-pack of Early Girl tomatoes on sale for $2.99. Mrs. Chance emerged from the storage area in back and headed straight for Wendy. She wore her serene grandmotherly smile as usual. Working with plants all day could give you a sunny outlook on life. Working with people, on the other hand, could sour your stomach, and Wendy had the incipient ulcer to prove it. She steeled herself for the encounter. She adored Mrs. Chance -- sincerely -- but she’d never had to ask for credit before. “I’ve been expecting you, Wendy,” Mrs. Chance said. “You’ll need plants for the big garden show.” “Sure will, Mrs. C.” Wendy pasted a smile on her face. “Thing is… I was wondering… we’ve known each other a long time, no?” Mrs. Chance’s sweet expression didn’t falter. It was her trademark, along with the potting soil smudges on her fingers. “Jeff was in here the other day.” “Oh, yeah?” Wendy’s stomach did a flop. “Buying stuff for the show, no doubt.” “Practically bought me out,” Mrs. Chance said. “But I held back some of the best merchandise for you.” Interesting. She hadn’t told anyone that, along with ending their romantic relationship, Jeff had also walked away with the assets of their business. Unless Jeff had said something, Mrs. Chance would have assumed Jeff was buying for the both of them. “Really good of you,” Wendy said. “There’s one little thing I should tell you…” Mrs. Chance crossed her arms over her chest and waited for Wendy to continue. Her smile had faded a bit. Wendy struggled for words but couldn’t come up with anything to sugarcoat the reality that she’d been screwed over royally by her ex-partner, in business and in bed. “Jeff’s never been in here alone before,” Mrs. Chance said after a moment. “And he had quite a bill. He even bought my prize cymbidium orchid.” Damn it all. Wendy had lusted after that plant for months, but Jeff had insisted it was too expensive. Now he’d have it for the flower and garden show. The rat bastard. “Did he, now?” Wendy said. “Sure did.” “Figures,” Wendy grumbled. “Is there something I should know?” Mrs. Chance said. Wendy might as well spill the whole sorry story. Over the years, Mrs. Chance had been more than a supplier and even more than a friend. She’d acted as a mentor, teaching Wendy all sorts of secrets of how to tend for plants and flowers so they could perform at their best and make Wendy’s business -- and Jeff’s -- look great and get landscaping jobs. “We’re no longer business partners,” Wendy said. “So I gathered. A woman was waiting for Jeff in the car.” “Yvette.” More bustline than brains that one, which explained why the woman adored Jeff so much. Her adoration fed his ego, which really needed no enhancement. “The whole thing made me wonder what he was up to,” Mrs. Chance said. “We broke up.” Might as well blurt it out. “Hmmm.” Even Mrs. Chance’s sunny expression soured. “And… well… as a result, I seem to be short of funds.” “He took your money, didn’t he?” Mrs. Chance said. “I’m going to get it back.” And she would, even if she had to sue his ass $and the person at the bank who let him loot their joint business account. “But for right now, I’m having what you might call a cash flow problem.” “I can imagine you are.” Mrs. Chance didn’t have to add all the cash had flowed to Jeff. The fact that Wendy was here admitting to be penniless said it for both of them. “There’s only one thing for you to do, then,” Mrs. Chance said. “You’ll have to win the Grand Prize in the show.” “I’m going to need plants to do it.” “You’ve come to the right place,” Mrs. Chance said. “I have lots of plants. Some most people aren’t even aware of.” “I can’t pay you now.” Wendy fairly held her breath as she waited for an answer. “Oh, pooh.” Mrs. Chance waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll pay me well enough once you’ve won the trophy and you have more jobs -- and money -- than you know what to do with.” “My intention, for sure.” Not just to win the trophy but to wave it under Jeff’s nose to taunt him. That’d teach him to try to sink her business. “Well, then, let’s get you started,” Mrs. Chance said. “I have plenty more cymbidiums and lots of annuals. You’ll want some rolls of grass for a lawn. We can put together a pool and fountain.” “Wow, you really are thinking ambitiously.” The display was already planning itself in Wendy’s imagination. An enchanted waterfall surrounded by flowers with a gravel path leading past a reflecting pool. “I have a way to guarantee you’ll win the competition.” Mrs. Chance leaned toward Wendy and gave her a wicked smile -- the sort of woman-to-woman thing that said “the bastard will be sorry he crossed us.” “I’ve been wanting to tell you about something for a while,” Mrs. Chance said. “But I didn’t trust your partner with the knowledge.” “I’m all ears.” “I have a special section of my nursery for only my best customers. I guarantee you’ll find what you need there,” Mrs. Chance said. “In every sense of the word ‘need,’ if you get my drift.” Wendy had never thought of her favorite plant lady as having ‘needs,’ if she got Mrs. Chance’s drift correctly. But the woman wasn’t all that old, and Wendy had never met a Mr. Chance.  Could she have something or someone around who provided sexual services? No, too weird. She wouldn’t even consider it. Although Mrs. Chance’s grin had taken a seriously lecherous turn. This was just a plant nursery, right? “You want to go around to the back. There’s a walled-in garden. Knock on the gate that says ‘positively no admittance.’ I’ll text Sage to let you in.” “Sage?” Wendy repeated. “Like the herb?” “More like the learned one -- a sage. Everything back there goes through him.” Mrs. Chance put her hand on Wendy’s shoulder. Conspirators again. “You’ll like Sage, and I’m sure he’ll like you.” “All right, Mrs. C., and thanks.” Wendy turned to head off toward the back of the nursery, but Mrs. Chance held her for a moment. “Remember,” Mrs. Chance said. “The gate marked ‘positively no admittance.’” “Right.” http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2378 authoralicegaines@gmail.com

New release from Changeling Press - Love Goddess

PLEASE NOTE:  This is a PG excerpt.  The story is X rated

Chapter One
“Another failure, huh?” the chameleon said. “Too bad.”

Tatiana glanced from the display in front of her toward her familiar. He’d turned the same color as the tabletop -- a warm brown suggestive of mahogany -- and he was doing his statue thing… standing perfectly still as if he were made of wood, too. The posture didn’t keep him from mouthing off at her, though. Maybe she could still trade him in for a black cat.

“They’re screwing each other’s brains out.” She gestured toward the display. “I don’t know how you can call that a failure.”

Larry made a jerky movement toward the screen, cocked his head, and studied Tatiana’s latest subjects. “Yeah, but it’s just sex.”

“What do you mean just sex? Sex is the whole point.”

He relaxed back into his earlier pose. “If you say so.”

Tatiana checked the couple again -- two shy people who’d had the hots for each other for years before she brought them together. In what they thought was the privacy of his bedroom, they’d gotten naked some time ago, and now he lay on top of her, her legs wrapped around his hips as he humped like mad. Their voices blended together into a chorus of “Yes. Oh, God, yes. More, more. I’m going to come.”

As aspiring love goddess for the inhabitants of this human dimension, a different one from her own, Tatiana had to watch to make sure her couples stayed on the right track. She’d always expected to enjoy the evidence of her success. Now, it just made her ache, all because of the absence of the man who’d always promised he’d be her partner. Lucius could soothe the ache if he were here. Instead the sonofabitch had become heir apparent to his father’s kingdom and didn’t have time for trivial matters like spreading love throughout the human world.

So she had to enjoy watching better sex than she’d ever have without Lucius around. Then to make matters worse, the human male decided to get creative and climbed off the woman long enough to position himself, kneeling, at the end of the low bed. When she whimpered, he bent to capture her hips and pull her toward him. In their new position, she could see virtually everything, and there was a lot to be seen.

“They’re going to climax soon,” Larry said.

“I noticed.”

“Then what’s going to happen?”

“How in hell would I know?” she answered.

“You want to be a love goddess. It’s your business to know.”

The grunts and moans from the display were growing louder, more insistent. She reached for the control to turn the display off.

“Don’t,” Larry said. “See what they do now.”

“Why? My work is done.”

“Is it? Or are you afraid to see if you’ve succeeded or not?”

Wise ass. She glared at the lizard. “Oh, all right. If we must.”

The man scrambled up onto the bed next to the woman, and the two of them lay, not touching but staring up at the ceiling.

“That was great,” the woman said after a minute or two.

“Yeah, really,” he said. Neither moved for the other. After another long moment, he stretched. “Want something to eat?”

“I’d probably better get home,” the woman answered. “Early day tomorrow.”

“Right,” he said.

The woman got up and searched around for items of her clothing on the floor. “Next week?”

“Sure thing,” he said.

“Seen enough?” Larry asked.

Tatiana turned off the display and watched as the screen turned back into a fish tank, complete with mechanical but lifelike fish swimming around. Unfortunately, she’d watched them often enough to know the pre-programmed pattern of their movements. This one to the upper right corner, the other one down below. Dull and predictable. She ought to get something real to watch someday.

“So, what’s your point?” she said.

“Did that look like love to you?”

“I get them together. Love is their responsibility.”

Larry turned a vibrant green -- not the usual response for a creature who usually did his best to disappear into his environment. He obviously didn’t like her answer. “How did you get so far away from your real purpose?”

“What do you know about my job? You’re a reptile.”

“A two hundred year old reptile who’s been around humans my entire life,” he said. “When they don’t love, they behave badly. I signed on with you because I thought you could help them out.”

Tatiana leaned back in her chair, stretching her feet out in front of her. Twisting her head to one side and the other, she did her best to work a kink out of her neck. Maybe the lizard had a point. She’d managed quite a bit of success with the sex part of getting her people together, but they never seemed to go beyond the physical.

When she’d started on this pathway, she’d had a male partner. The hierarchy would never have accepted her into training to become what humans thought of as gods if she hadn’t. When Lucius had abandoned her, the males in charge had predicted she’d fail, and now she was proving them right, damn it all.

“If you had a mate, you’d understand,” Larry said.

Oh, right. The world’s answer to all of women’s problems… a man. “I don’t need a mate.”

“You spend all your time watching other people have sex. Doesn’t it drive you crazy?”

“I have sex, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Larry said. “When?”

“Let’s see…” The last time had been the Wednesday before. No, Tuesday. She’d gone to the pet shop to buy Larry’s grubs and crickets. The guy behind the counter had had a cute smile, so they’d hung a “closed” sign on the door and had ducked into the store room. The whole encounter hadn’t taken very long, and he’d turned out to know more about reptiles than women’s bodies. Still… she’d had an orgasm. Eventually.

“See? You’re not even having sex any longer,” Larry said.

“I’ve forgotten more about sex than you’ll ever know.”

“My point exactly. You’ve forgotten.”

“All right. I’ll get all dressed up tonight and go out and find a guy. Don’t wait up for me.” Good idea, even if the chameleon had given it to her. She needed more than a quickie to keep her on her toes. All she needed was a some sweet loving to return to the top of her game.

“That’s not going to work any better than the other times you’ve tried it,” Larry said. “You need a mate.”

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2197

To read an X-rated excerpt, please visit http://alicesexcerpts.blogspot.com

authoralicegaines@yahoo.com

Read an excerpt from Built for Lust

From Built for Lust by Alice Gaines

The sky was just beginning to lighten along the horizon as she let them out of the building and headed with Gray across the parking lot to the woods beyond. Beneath the trees, the night still reigned. In near total darkness, she kicked out of her shoes and undressed. Gray watched the entire time, his eyes pricks of light that seemed to shine from inside him. She hadn’t built anything within him that should do that, but eventually he’d become more than the sum of his parts. After he’d experienced the world, he’d become his own creature, only subservient to her. Maybe he’d started the process already.

He let out a little whine. Impatience? Disappointment at her human shape? Or maybe, excitement.

She shifted slowly so he could watch. Truth be told, she hadn’t spent much time in her wolven form lately, and the change took some thought. Her body became smaller but more powerful than her human shape. Immediately, her heightened hearing and scent told her what she needed to know about her surroundings. No other humans nearby and no other wolves. Only the sounds of birds stirring and the scent of her mate.

He walked toward her, his head held down. The posture might have been submission but more likely caution. He’d never seen one of his own kind before, and he must have detected her perfume the way she had his.

She held absolutely still, letting him come near. A low rumble from his chest warned that he knew he had the advantage of size and strength. What he didn’t know, though, was that she had more cunning. If she didn’t want him, he wouldn’t have her.

She’d built him for this, though, and if he did things the way she’d programmed, he’d have her before the sun came fully up.

Now near her, he sniffed along her flank, close to her sex. Her musk filled the air around her as the hunger built inside her. When he walked behind her, her legs trembled. For the first time in her life, she was only moments away from her body’s ultimate fulfillment, but if she’d made even one serious mistake in his programming, she’d still go uncompleted.

He pressed his snout in the space between her legs, his breath hot on the sensitive flesh. She jumped at the shock, and her voice came out as a yip of surprise, and her whole body quaked. Yes. Oh, yes!

He could continue now, but the full mating ritual demanded the chase. Now that he’d scented her, he’d follow -- at top speed until he dropped. He had her in his blood.

She bounded away from him. Not far, just enough to let him know he hadn’t won her yet. He stared back at her, silver fury in his eyes. When he stepped in her direction, she leapt again, now well out of his reach unless he agreed to come after her with everything he had. Staring back at him evenly, she waited for some sign that he’d made his decision. After a moment, he crouched. Only a creature perfectly attuned to him could have caught the change in his posture, he did it so subtly. She couldn’t miss the coiled strength, so before he could leap and take her where she stood, she raced off into the underbrush, dashing between ferns that came up to her haunches.

She’d run at full speed before, but never when the heat was fully on her. Her brain tuned out all but the most basic thoughts -- the driving rhythm of her footfalls as she extended her forelegs and then pulled at the ground beneath them, the power of her hind legs pushing her forward. The sound of her breathing and the pounding of her heart. Most of all the tension building in her womb with each jarring motion as her paws hit solid dirt.

Every inch of her sensed the male behind her. Now, he had to find his footing and chase the scent she’d left behind. Soon, he’d have his balance and would hit full speed. She’d need to make evasive movements to make him earn his reward.

Crashing from behind her told her he’d found his stride. When the sound of his breathing came through, too, she stopped abruptly, zigged, and dashed behind a tree. While she headed off in a new direction he came to a stop, hesitated, and then went after her. Those few seconds gave her another lead, and she used it to head down a ravine, skidding much of the way. At the bottom, she leapt from stone to stone across the stream, and went up the other bank.

Closer now, he splashed behind her and grunted as he closed the distance on the upward slope. He’d have her in a moment, and the glorious chase would end. She’d fought surrender all her life, but this time she’d lose. It was almost a shame that she could power down this beast she’d created, but she could bring him to life again whenever she wanted. She owned him, not the other way around.

Just when she couldn’t outrun him any longer, she found another escape. A downed tree, close enough to the ground that she could just fit beneath it, but he’d be too big to follow. She scrambled under it, the bark digging into her back. He’d just managed to nip at her heel, but she pulled her foot away, flattened herself against the ground and watched him.

Growling, he paced the ground in front of the log, while her heart hammered in her chest. His flanks heaved from exertion as he prowled, back and forth, back and forth. What a magnificent animal -- as much and more as her fantasies. Her womb clenched as she caught the scent of his desire. Both of them at fever pitch now, they only needed to conclude the final act of this mating.

She retreated on her belly, turned, and dashed out from under the other side of the tree. Without looking back, she headed at full speed ahead of her. Her perfect sense of him told her he’d bounded over the log in one motion and was bearing down on her. Fine. The time had come.

With her last burst of speed, she cleared some trees and sprinted into a clearing. A meadow of sorts, soft grass springing under her paws. She still ran with everything in her, but not to evade him any longer. With each stride, her excitement mounted. Just a little farther, a few more strides. Make him wild with need so he’d take her hard and fast. Now, now.

With a snarl, he launched himself on top of her, knocking the wind out of her. For a while, they rolled together, limbs tangled, teeth nipping. He ended up on top, nearly smothering her, as he bit down into the fur and flesh at the back of her neck. No more running. Now, he’d put all that ferocity into making her his.

Acknowledging her master, she pushed herself up to offer him her hindquarters.

Built for Lust is one of four stories in the collection released from Changeling Press today.

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2175

New Release from Changeling Press - Sex After Death

I'm so excited.  My new story from Changeling Press is out.  Sex After Death is a short story about a woman who buys a very intriguing statue at an antiques shop.  She gets a lot more than she bargained for...the Changeling way.

Read an excerpt:

Sex After Death

“Oh, isn’t he cute?”  Katy’s friend’s voice carried all the way across the curio shop.  Katy glanced over to spot what Ginger had picked out.  It seemed to be a vase of some sort made of dark material.

“This’ll make a great gag gift for Sylvia,” Ginger said.  “Check it out.”

Katy joined Ginger and got a better view of the thing.  Not a vase but a planter designed to be filled with soil and a bit of greenery.  The shape had clearly caught Ginger’s attention - the carved figure of a man, anatomically correct with a large sac and a flaccid member of truly impressive proportions.

“I think you’re onto something,” Katy said.  “We could have all kinds of fun with this at Sylvia’s bridal shower.”

Katy took the little man from Ginger and hefted him.  “Heavy.  Must be stone of some kind.”

“Marble of a very rare dark color,” a male voice said from behind her.

She nearly jumped.  The owner of the store - a small man with thinning hair and a pencil mustache - had crept up on them.  “Very old.  Ancient, in fact, going back to the reign of Tiberius.”

“You’ve had it carbon dated, have you?” Katy asked him.

“Not necessary,” he said.  “The style is recognized by collectors.  There‘s an engraving at the bottom.”

Katy squinted but couldn’t make out much of the writing.  It was faded with time and in a language she didn’t understand, making it ever more difficult to decipher.  “What does it say?”

“The closest anyone can tell is coitus post mortem,” he answered.

Ginger giggled and put her fingers over her mouth.  “That sounds like it means sex after death.”

“It does.”  The man didn’t crack a smile.  Clearly, he was serious.

“But even if you believe in life after death,” Katy said.  “Sex after death?  Angels getting it on?  I mean, really.”

“What I believe doesn’t matter.  The inscription says sex after death.”  The man almost rolled his eyes.  Clearly, he’d had this conversation before.

Freaking weird, but appealing, too.  A guy so well endowed.  An eternity of really great sex.  Maybe he was a fertility icon or the gods’ gift to all womankind.  In a few weeks, he‘d serve as a centerpiece at a rowdy bridal shower.  “How much do you want for it?”

The owner smoothed his mustache with his fingertips for a moment.  “I could part with it for twenty dollars.”

“For something ancient with fine detail?”  Katy’s antennae went up.  If something sounded too good to be true, it usually wasn’t on the level.

Ginger tugged her elbow.  “Buy it.  It’s perfect.”

She really ought to.  At this price, who cared if it turned out to be something mass-produced to fool the yokels?  It would make a great shower gift.  They’d all get a bit tipsy on champagne and make up bawdy stories about the statue and what they‘d do with a thing as big as his.

Still, the skeptic in her wanted answers.  “Seriously, why the low price?”

The man gave her a sugary-sweet smile.  “I’ll be perfectly honest with you, Miss…”

“Wilson,” she supplied.

“Miss Wilson,” he said.  “Only women ever buy this piece, and they invariably return it and want their money back.”

She turned the planter over and around, searching for cracks and not finding any.  “What’s wrong with it?”

“The ladies never say, and I don’t question them.  I like to keep my customers happy.”

“I see,” she said.  Although she didn’t.  Not at all.  Not knowing its true origins or value, she wouldn’t pay much more for this piece.  But twenty dollars?  What the heck?

“I get tired of dusting it,” the man said.  “For twenty dollars, you can dust it for a while.”

“Fine.  I will.”  She turned toward Ginger.  “What should we plant in this?

“An asparagus fern would look like crazy green hair,” Ginger said.

“Or a really phallic cactus.”

“Oh, you mustn’t plant anything in it,” the man said.  “Unless you want the plant to die.”

“What, is it toxic?”  Katy set the planter back on the display table.

“Not at all, but you can’t get it wet, so you can’t water the plant.”  The man handed it back to her.  “Otherwise, it’s perfectly safe.”

Ginger stared at the planter and then the man.  “What do you mean ‘otherwise’?”

“It’s cursed.”  The man smiled and played with his mustache again.

Ginger’s eyes widened.  “Wow.”

“Oh, come on,” Katy said.

“You don’t believe in curses, Miss Wilson?”  If the man’s mustache had had a long enough end, he’d be twirling it by now.

“I don’t,” she said.  “Especially about little men who cost twenty dollars.”

“I hardly believed it myself until an old woman came into my shop one day and recognized it.  She claimed the curse was why my customers kept returning it,” he said.  “She told me there’d been a death associated with it.”

“Did it kill any of the women who bought it from you?” Ginger asked.

“Not a one, but I’ll tell you…“  The man leaned toward them as if trying to keep the story secret when, in fact, there wasn’t anyone else in the shop.  “They didn’t seem normal.  They had a look in their eyes…”

Ginger got caught up in his BS, inclining her head toward his.  “What kind of look?”

“Feverish,” he said, almost in a whisper.  “Obsessed.”

“I promise not to get obsessed with him, even if he is decently hung,” Katy said.

“Fine,” the man said.  “Keep him dry, and don’t return him.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2142

authoralicegaines@yahoo.com

Time Pirate is out!

Jax figures having two crewmates, each dedicated to keeping her happy in the sack, is a pretty good deal for a female pirate. Little does she know Marc and Kyre have a past of their own -- a sexual history hot enough to singe her around the edges. And the guys are more than willing to let her join in the fun.
Kyre has a cabin on a paradise of an undeveloped planet. Now that he's rediscovered his old lover, Marc, he plans to make a home for them. Can he convince Jax she belongs there, too, as part of a permanent threesome?

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2057


Read an Excerpt


This is my first MMF erotic romance.  It was so much fun to write.  I love those guys!  And the heroine, too.  If you'd like to enter to win a copy, come back to this blog tomorrow.  I'll be giving away a copy as part of Naughty Edition Reviews' Pride Month Celebration.

http://naughtyeditionreviews.com

New release -- Sinful Wager from Changeling Press

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1739


Prepare to see Lucifer in a whole new way.  He brings new meaning to "sexy devil."

How about this fabulous cover by the divine Angela Knight?

Marty Davis takes a wrong turn in the casino called Pleasure Palace and winds up in a place where the machines pay off with hot sex and everyone wins. Turns out she's in hell, and Lucifer is the sexiest guy there. With all that going for the underworld, who'd want to go back to reality? She makes a deal with him -- if she can make him beg for the privilege of giving her an orgasm, she gets to stay on as his partner.

Lucifer doesn't need a partner, but this woman gets his libido hot and bothered, something that hasn't happened for longer than he cares to remember. Besides, her ideas for running the casino have the place humming. He takes her challenge and finds, to his chagrin, that he can't seem to win.

Note:  This excerpt is PG, but the story is erotic.

Modern casino chips sure didn't make the satisfying clatter silver dollars used to. That didn't keep Marty Davis from ruffling her thumb upward along the pile in front of her on the bar. Thapthapthapthapthap over and over again until she couldn't stomach the sound any longer, so she spread them out in a precise line and scooped them up again.


Tim's hand came across the bar and down on hers. "Are you doing that to irritate me or yourself?"

"Both," she answered. "Is it working?"

"I can only speak on my own behalf," he said. "Yes."

"Make me a drink, will you?"

"Sure thing. What'll it be?"

She considered the question. The house wine they served in the casino sucked. The local beer was swill. The best bartender in all of Las Vegas, Tim could make eight-layer frappe things out of various liqueurs so sweet they'd give you cavities. None of that held any appeal.

"Mix me something strong enough that I'll go jump some guy's bones," she said finally.

Tim smiled and leaned over the bar toward her. "My bones are always available."

Indeed they were, as he made obvious at every opportunity. She'd normally take full advantage of such a thorough and considerate lover, but Tim had become too attached, and she'd had to break things off before he got hurt. He deserved kids and a picket fence, not a woman who bored as easily as she did.

Instead of waiting for her to make up her mind, Tim took the bottle of good Scotch from the shelf behind him and poured a generous amount into a tumbler. He set that and a cocktail napkin in front of her. "On me."

"Thanks." She lifted the glass in a toast and then sipped at the smooth liquor. Tim couldn't afford much of this stuff on his salary, and she normally wouldn't accept it from him, but she couldn't keep rejecting everything he offered.

"Quiet night?" she asked.

"Pretty much. I only had to call security on one rowdy drunk."

"What about him?" she said, nodding in the direction of a man sitting at the end of the bar. The guy wore a suit a bit too big for him and sat with his head in his hands, his fingers stuck into his fringe of hair. "Shouldn't you be getting him a cab?"

"He's just depressed," Tim said. "Lost a bunch of money."

Marty pushed the pile of chips toward Tim. "Give him these."

Tim's eyebrow went up. "That's a lot."

"I have more on this," she said, holding up the card the last slot had coughed out after she'd won a jackpot.

"Lucky night?" he asked.

"Just like every night."

Tim picked up the chips and headed toward the man with the bad clothes and the worse expression. She didn't catch much of the conversation, but the guy perked right up, lifting his head out of his hands and smoothing his hair into place. After giving her a thumbs-up, he climbed off his stool and disappeared into the crowd around one of the craps tables. That might have lifted her spirits if she hadn't known he'd piss all the money away again. By the time he did, she'd be gone from here one way or another.

Tim returned. "You made his day."

"I give him an hour before he's back and broke again."

Tim studied her for a moment. "You're really down, aren't you?"

She shrugged. "Not down so much as..."

Empty was more like it. A nice, long, miserable crying jag would feel pretty good, but she had no real reason for sadness.

"Things come too easy lately," she went on. "I landed the biggest account at the agency without even trying. I keep winning here, no matter what I play."

"Every man in the place has the hots for you," Tim said.

She wouldn't have brought up the subject and rubbed Tim's nose in it, but she'd had lots of opportunities in that department, too. She'd had enough lovers in the last month to fill an anthology of really naughty stories. Not a disappointment among them. The ones without huge endowments had all had skillful fingers and tongues. Others could go all night. An embarrassment of riches. All that ought to make her happy.

"Faust," Tim said.

She snapped back to reality. "I beg your pardon?" "The Faust story," he said. "You're living it."

"That's right. You're the literature major."

"That and bartender school got me this glamorous job." He extended his arms, gesturing around him.

"Tell me more about this Faust thing."

"Faust was a man, not a thing." Tim grabbed his cloth and wiped the top of the bar the way he always did when he either told a story or listened to one. "He had everything he could possibly want, but nothing gave him any pleasure."

"That pretty much describes me," she said. "What did he do?"

"The devil offered him a bargain. If Satan could show him something so beautiful he'd want to hold onto it, Faust would have to surrender his soul."

"How did the story come out?" she asked.

"Depends on whose version you're reading," Tim answered.

"I'm not likely to find anything so interesting as Satan here."

"The Pleasure Palace is a pretty big place. Are you sure you've explored every corner of it?" Tim asked.

"Enough corners." Tim had a point, though. The hotel/casino complex was one of Vegas's newest, biggest, and most luxurious, but it had the added cachet of having been built on the foundation of several older gambling houses. An intricate web of corridors went off in all directions beneath the massive building, ending abruptly in some cases. Rumors had circulated during construction about things workers had found in basements. All hype, no doubt, but few people could claim they had actually seen every square foot of the place. Lots of tourists came here specifically to explore, and none ever complained of being disappointed.

"You know I'm right, don't you?" Tim said. "Where are you going to find the devil if not in Las Vegas and where in Las Vegas if not here?"

"What the heck? It's too early to go home, anyway." She got off her barstool and picked up the ridiculously expensive Scotch. After downing it, she leaned across the bar to give Tim a quick kiss good-bye and then wandered off into the huge gaming area.

The usual chaos of lights and noises surrounded her as she went. After a while, it all blended together into a kind of sensory overload and from there into visual and auditory white noise. For a moment, Marty went adrift in it, losing her way among tables and machines she'd visited off and on for months.

Maybe Tim had slipped something into her Scotch. No, he wouldn't do that. He might ask and cajole to get back into her bed, but he'd never do anything underhanded. Still, something had knocked her off her bearings. Maybe she'd had some kind of reaction to the liquor.

After several seconds, the sensations faded, her mind clearing. She shook herself briefly, turned a corner, and found herself in a part of the club she'd never seen before.

As she glanced around, the feeling of newness grew even more pronounced and for good reason. She'd never visited an X-rated casino -- hadn't even known such a place existed -- but she stood in the middle of one now.
http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1739