Erotica Feature: Bad Decisions Make Good Lovers by Wanda Violet O. (Sanctum Black, 2) #bdsma #erotica #comingsoon #excerpt #rabtbooktours @ChangelingPress @RABTBookTours

 

(Sanctum Black 2): A Razor's Edge Enemies to Lovers BDSM Erotica Short

Erotica

Date Published: June 12, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

Sanctum Black. Rules Marley can follow. Boundaries she won’t cross. Until Lucan…

Marley’s built her life on control. Sanctum Black is the only place she feels safe enough to let go. No names. No past. No attachments. Then Lucan walks in and shatters every one of them. He sees through every wall she’s built and takes exactly what she’s too afraid to give. One night was supposed to be enough. It isn’t. Because now he wants more than her submission… he wants her. And walking away might break her…

Lucan doesn’t believe in coincidence, and he definitely doesn’t walk away from something worth keeping. Marley thinks she’s in control, but he knows better. She’s been hiding behind rules instead of facing what she really needs. Him. Claiming her means crossing lines that can’t be uncrossed, inside Sanctum and out, but once he decides she’s his, there’s no backing down. Marley isn’t a game or a temporary escape. She’s everything. And Lucan doesn’t lose what belongs to him.

Excerpt

Copyright ©2026 Wanda Violet O.

Marley

I slipped through the unmarked door next to the rear entrance of the art gallery, nodding to the security guard, who recognized me despite my elaborate mask. The transition from bright city lights to the subdued glow of the gallery always felt like crossing a threshold between worlds. Tonight, I needed that separation more than usual. The workday had left its residue on my skin, a film of expectations and responsibilities that clung despite my shower. Sanctum Black waited below, promising the only freedom I truly trusted.

“Good evening, Ms. Marley,” the attendant murmured, his eyes never quite meeting mine. Only first names mattered at Sanctum Black, and only the first name of our choosing. I could be anyone I wanted to be.

I offered my keycard to the attendant. He scanned it at the elevator and the doors slid open silently. “Your usual table is ready. Enjoy your evening.” He offered no other pleasantries.

I nodded politely before stepping into the elevator, the doors closing as I turned. The car descended smoothly. When the doors opened to the main lounge, I welcomed the subtle jazz playing through hidden speakers. Sanctum Black represented the only truly safe place in my life. Confidentiality was not a suggestion here. There were hard penalties for even acknowledging anyone you’d met at Sanctum on the outside. The privacy appealed to me more than even the physical release I never failed to receive.

Black velvet stretched across the walls, muffling sound and creating a soothing feel to the atmosphere. The amethyst sconces cast their violet glow in hypnotic patterns. I inhaled the soothing scent of lavender.

Clear rules protected everyone here. I needed that. No one judged at Sanctum. No one got into the club who hadn’t been completely and thoroughly vetted. And no one talked. Ever.

Outside these walls, my life consisted of endless decisions. Even personal relationships became battlegrounds at times. But here, consent was explicit and spelled out beforehand. Desires were stated plainly. Limits were respected absolutely. And for a brief moment, I could surrender to someone, if only in small measure.

I moved deeper into the room. A hostess appeared at my elbow, her approach silent on the thick carpet. “Welcome back,” she said, with a polite smile and escorted me further inside.

The corner table offered the perfect vantage point to see the room so I could… watch. I loved how people interacted with each other here. The dynamics fascinated me on a purely intellectual level. Some of the most powerful men and women in the world frequented Sanctum Black. When provided a place offering complete and guaranteed anonymity, the true nature of these people came through.

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t number among the rich and powerful people here. I’d helped out Mr. Price, the owner of the club, a couple of years ago. My membership was an expression of his gratitude.

I settled into a velvet chair behind the low table, allowing myself to sink into its embrace. I set my leather play bag at my feet next to the table.

A server approached almost immediately, carrying a crystal tumbler on a black lacquered tray, the amber liquid inside catching fragments of the purple light. “Your Macallan 18, neat,” he said, placing it on the obsidian coaster. Another gift from Mr. Price each time I visited.

“Thank you.” I tried to always thank the staff. Mr. Price had been kind to me. The first sip, as always, warmed me all the way down in the most pleasant way. This small pleasure settled me.

Though the club was relatively quiet tonight, the room filled as regulars occupied their usual territories while newcomers gravitated toward the central bar.

A man I recognized, but had never met personally, occupied a leather armchair near the east wall, one leg crossed casually over the other. I knew him only as Lucan. Anything said about him usually only happened in hushed whispers in private.

I noticed Lucan was paying more attention to me tonight because every time I looked up at him, his gaze was pinned me. Unlike the careful poise most patrons maintained, his posture suggested coiled energy, barely contained. Dark hair fell just slightly out of place above eyes that seemed to take in everyone and everything around him. I’d had patrons stare at me before, but nothing like this man. He looked at me like he wanted to possess me. Or maybe, like he already owned me and waited for me to catch up and get the message.

This time when our gazes connected across the room, I didn’t look away and he didn’t back down. I had a brief moment to wonder if I might have somehow stepped into a trap. I usually kept pretty much to myself, only occasionally seeking out a professional at the club to scene with in private. As was the way of the people here, that unspoken request was usually honored and no one approached me.

Lucan ignored that unspoken protocol. His stare was direct. Unwavering. It held none of the polite distance that formed Sanctum’s foundation. He watched me with such focused intent that I felt my skin warm under invisible fingertips.

 

About the Author

Welcome to Wanda Violet O.'s world of bedtime fantasy, where you'll find a variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play... she's got it all. Come take a look for yourself!

 

Wanda on Facebook

Wanda on Goodreads

 

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

Pre-Order Today

Erotica Feature: Enemies with Benefits by Wanda Violet O. #comingsoon #bdsm #erotica #excerpt #rabtbooktours @changelingpress @RABTBookTours

 

 

Sanctum Black (#1)

A Razor’s Edge Enemies to Lovers BDSM Erotica Short

BDSM Erotica

Date Published: February 27, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

Power made them enemies. Desire makes them reckless. One surrender changes everything.

Mira: Elias Hartmann is a billionaire power player and my biggest professional obstacle. Six months of brutal negotiations turned into six months of tension I refuse to name. Every meeting is a battle. Every look feels like a challenge I shouldn’t want to accept. Then I receive an invitation to Sanctum Black. A private sex club where power, and desire collide. When Elias appears, I should leave. Instead, I let him show me exactly how thin the line is between control and surrender. Outside, we’re enemies fighting for the upper hand. Inside, I give him everything I pretend I don’t crave.

Elias: Mira Calder doesn’t bend. She dismantles. Brilliant, relentless, and impossible to ignore. I wanted her from the first meeting. Not romance. Not dates. I wanted to break her composure and earn her surrender. Sanctum Black gives us rules, boundaries, and privacy with no consequences. Just heat, power, and obsession in a safe, anonymous environment. She’s my equal in the boardroom. In the dark, she’s mine to challenge and claim. Enemies to lovers. High-stakes power play. One mistake neither of us can afford to walk away from untouched.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2026 Wanda Violet O.

Mira

The moment I crossed the threshold of my apartment, I kicked off my heels, not caring where they landed. My feet throbbed with the special kind of pain reserved for women who spent twelve hours in Italian leather torture devices, all for the sake of standing eye-to-eye with men who confused height with authority. The negotiation with Elias Hartmann had dragged on until sunset, both of us refusing to yield on key points until our respective teams were practically falling asleep at the table. I’d won this round, but victory felt hollow when measured against the ache behind my eyes.

“Fuck it,” I muttered to no one, dropping my briefcase on the entryway bench. My apartment greeted me with familiar silence, the kind I usually found comforting after days filled with strategic verbal combat. Tonight, though, it felt like just another empty space.

I shrugged off my blazer and hung it with more care than I’d shown my shoes. Six hundred dollars of tailored wool deserved better, even if I couldn’t muster the energy to pick up my heels, which were now scattered across my polished hardwood floor. My blouse came next, the top three buttons already undone during the elevator ride up. Freedom, in small increments.

The wine rack in my kitchen called to me like a beacon. I selected a Cabernet I’d been saving, though I couldn’t remember why. Some mythical special occasion that never materialized. The cork came free with a satisfying pop that echoed in my silent kitchen.

I didn’t bother with a glass at first, taking a generous swig straight from the bottle. Only after that initial hit did I pour properly, the dark liquid swirling as I carried it to my living room. The tension in my neck had transformed into something solid, a concrete weight pressing down on my spine. I rolled my head, feeling vertebrae pop in protest.

Elias fucking Hartmann. The man was infuriating. Brilliant, undoubtedly, but maddening in a way that made me want to either slap him or…

I cut that thought off, unwilling to follow where it led. Six months of negotiations over this acquisition, and the progress we’d made could be measured in millimeters. Every concession was a battle, every clause scrutinized with microscopic closeness.

I raised my wine glass to take a healthy pull. I couldn’t deny the grudging respect I’d developed for my opponent. He had a mind like a steel trap and eyes that missed nothing. Including, I suspected, the way my breath sometimes caught when he leaned too close across the conference table.

I massaged my temples, pressing hard enough to make little starbursts appear behind my closed eyelids. Professional attraction was a complication I didn’t need. Especially not with someone whose corporate ambitions directly opposed my client’s interests.

Something caught my eye as I passed entryway table. A black envelope, sleek and heavy, with a minimalist gold emblem stamped in the corner. I froze, wine glass halfway to my lips. It definitely hadn’t been there this morning.

Setting down my glass, I approached the envelope cautiously, as though it might bite. My building had excellent security, a key consideration when I’d purchased the apartment. Someone placing this here meant either my security had been compromised, or…

I picked it up, feeling the substantial weight of the cardstock. Expensive. The gold emblem caught the light, an ornate “SB” intertwined in a design that managed to suggest both elegance and something darker. No postage, no address. Just my name in metallic ink that gleamed under my fingertips.

I slid my finger under the flap, breaking the wax seal that I hadn’t initially noticed. Inside was a single card of the same heavyweight black stock, text printed in the same gold ink.

To: Ms. Mira Calder

You are cordially invited to Sanctum Black, where discretion meets pleasure without judgment. Your reputation for excellence has been noted by our selection committee. Should you choose to accept, present this invitation at 1158 Blackwood Avenue at 10 PM this evening.

Boundaries respected. Desires fulfilled.

Sanctum Black

Your privacy is our sacred covenant

HW George

Concierge

I turned the card over, looking for more information, but found only the same emblem from the envelope. Sanctum Black. I’d heard whispers about it in certain circles. Sanctum Black was an exclusive club where the elite could shed their public personas. Not exactly a sex club, but definitely not a simple social club either. The kind of place where people went when they wanted experiences they couldn’t get elsewhere, with the absolute certainty that what happened there would never leave its walls.

My analytical mind immediately began dissecting how my name had reached their “selection committee.” Who had recommended me? What did they know about me that made them think I’d be interested? And more importantly, who else might I encounter there?

 

About the Author

Welcome to Wanda Violet O.'s world of bedtime fantasy, where you'll find a variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play... she's got it all. Come take a look for yourself!

 

Wanda on Facebook

Wanda on Goodreads

 

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

Pre-Order Today

Erotica Feature: Bunny's Special Treat by Wanda Violet O. #preorder #comingsoon #bdsm #erotica #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours @ChangelingPress

 

BDSM Erotica, Contemporary, Polyamorous

Date Published: October 31, 2025

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Daddy Dom BDSM Erotica short story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

 

His Bunny. His rules. One night of denial becomes a lifetime of surrender.

I never dreamed being Max’s Bunny would feel like this. Owned, protected, and utterly consumed by his desire shouldn’t be the enticement, but pleasing Max, submitting to him, fulfills something inside me I didn’t know I was missing. Every touch, every command, every whispered promise reminds me I belong to him. But belonging comes with its own exquisite torment.

Daddy Jacob’s masquerade promises a night of temptation and denial, where every glance burns hotter and every stolen touch leaves me trembling on the edge. I ache for release, but Max’s rules are absolute: I come only when he allows it. And tonight, he intends to push me further than I’ve ever gone before.

Surrounded by power, lust, and dangerous devotion, I have only one truth to hold on to. I’m Max’s Bunny. Always.

 

EXCERPT

 

I traced my finger along the edge of the invitation, the gold filigree catching the late afternoon sunlight that streamed through my bedroom window. Not just any invitation. This was for Daddy Jacob’s Halloween masquerade, an exclusive gathering where only his closest circle received the embossed card resting in my trembling hands. I never would have imagined my life leading me here. A year ago, I couldn’t have imagined being Max’s bunny, his precious pet, his possession. Now, I wasn’t sure I could imagine not being Max’s bunny.

Which brought me back to the invitation. I knew I was expected to be there, but I had assumed I would go as Max’s pet. Seeing my name on my own invitation made me feel a kind of acceptance I hadn’t realized I needed. My life here wasn’t only about Max. I thought I needed Daddy Jacob and Kitten, too. Everyone in this house. We were a family. Unconventional, but all the better because we had to really listen to each other and communicate to have the level of trust we had with each other.

“Are you ready for me to dress you, Bunny?”

Max’s deep voice startled me from my reverie. He leaned against the doorframe, his imposing figure filling the space with quiet authority. He wore dark leather pants slung low on his hips and a crisp white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms roped with muscle. His blue-gray eyes caught mine in the mirror, and his lips curved into that half smile that always made my stomach flip.

“Yes,” I answered, setting the invitation down on my vanity. “Slightly nervous.”

“You’ll be perfect.” He crossed the room to stand behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders. “Let’s get you dressed.”

The costume lay spread across my bed. Max had chosen fuzzy black bunny ears with sparkling gems on the inside. My hair spiraled in waves down my back. I had taken care with my make up, using a light foundation then contouring my face in tones of dark gray to give me an otherworldly appearance.

Dark eye shadow in charcoal smeared over my eyelids and fanned out past the corners, filling in the skin around my eyes to match the jeweled, sequined, black and gold mask. I’d lined my eyes in a gold liner. Max had also laid out a slinky, shimmering black dress trimmed in gold that would swish around me loosely, held on my shoulders by barely there gemmed straps meant to look like diamonds on a thin gold chain. Hell, for all I knew, they might well be diamonds.

“Arms up,” he instructed, and I obeyed without hesitation.

The cool fabric slid over my skin as he smoothed the garment over my curves. He brushed my ribs, my back, the sides of my breasts as he worked the delicate material into place. Each touch, though seemingly casual, sent sparks shooting through me. I knew Max well enough by now to recognize when his movements were deliberately slow, calculated to build anticipation.

“This looks perfect on you,” he murmured, adjusting the straps over my shoulders. His fingers lingered on my collarbone, tracing my skin and making my breath catch. “Turn around, little Bunny.”

I pivoted slowly, allowing him to see how the dress fluttered around my curves in a gentle wave that landed above mid thigh, barely long enough to cover my ass. His eyes darkened as his gaze traveled down my form, then back up to meet mine. “You’ve always been beautiful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “but tonight you are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen.”

I heated with pleasure and I smiled up at Max like he was my hero. And I suppose he was. He and Daddy Jacob.

“You’re trembling,” he observed.

“The invitation is… a lot,” I admitted. “Everything.” The truth was more complicated. His touch, his proximity, the anticipation of what would come later, all combined to leave me dizzy with anticipation. And so fucking horny I thought I might die if I didn’t get relief! I smiled up at him. “But I’m good. Better than even.”

 

About the Author

Welcome to Wanda Violet O.'s world of bedtime fantasy, where you'll find a variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play... she's got it all. Come take a look for yourself!

 

Wanda on Facebook

Wanda on Goodreads

 

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

Pre-Order Today

Erotica Feature: The Boss by Gale Stanley #preorder #comingsoon #bdsm #erotica #rabtbooktours @changelingpress @RABTBookTours

BDSM Erotica

Date to be Published: August 29, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press

Maxwell Barnes runs the top law firm in the city, owns a private BDSM club, and has more money than he can spend in a lifetime. He gets everything he wants, and now he wants his paralegal, Aaron Marshall. Mixing work and pleasure is a big no-no, but their mutual attraction is off the charts. The one thing Maxwell isn’t looking for is love, but sometimes fate has a mind of its own.

Praise for The Boss (Roosters)

"I found this to be an interesting and sexy short read... I adored Aaron right from the get-go and found him delightful and really easy to relate to. The chemistry between the two men is delicious, the kink is hot and well written and for a fun and quick read this story certainly fits the bill to my mind."

-- Fern, Long and Short Reviews

 

Excerpt

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2025 Gale Stanley

Fucking traffic. Even at this hour of the day, the streets were as jammed as my calendar. Doesn’t matter what I drive. My Mercedes-Maybach won’t get me to the office any faster than a Prius, but my ride got a lot of looks. It commanded the eye as well as the road. I imagined the other drivers were wondering what VIP was enjoying all this luxury. The thought ignited me. Being the center of attention was a turn-on. It was better than sex.

At last, my building came into view. It was an impressive sight. The Barnes Building was a soaring glass tower, twenty stories high, and one of the most prestigious addresses in the city. I helped design it myself. I demanded a seat at the table with the architects and builders, and my input resulted in a stunning building that met my needs. If you want something done right, do it yourself. ‘Nuff said.

I turned into the parking garage and pulled into my reserved spot, savoring the rewards of success. My car, my building, designer duds, a Rolex, they were all symbols of my wealth and status. None of it was due to luck. I worked damn hard to get where I was, long hours, high-profile court cases, good investments… I was on top of the world. Now I was ready to enjoy myself. For years work had overshadowed everything else in my life. I had made a name for myself and accumulated stuff, but I had neglected the hedonistic pleasures that shaped my life. It was time to focus on the thing that lit me up. BDSM. Erotic play made me feel complete. It energized me. I just needed the right partner. Lately, I had wondered whether the man I wanted even existed. It was a tall order to fill.

I knew who I was and what I wanted -- single, gay Dom looking for a playmate, not a relationship. Nothing serious or exclusive. I wanted a man who was submissive because he loved the way it made him feel, but finding a compatible play partner wasn’t easy. In the past I’d had partners who played at being submissive so they could gain access to me. They were only interested in my prestige and money. I liked a man who was willing to work hard and make it on his own. Someone who was constantly learning and wanted to challenge his limits.

Even with my connections, it was difficult to meet men because my kink was a well-hidden secret. Submissives who were looking for a Dom wouldn’t know how to find me. It had been a long time since my Dominant side got any attention, and it had been frustrating as hell.

Until the day Aaron Marshall showed up. We had instant chemistry. Chemistry counted for a lot, but it wasn’t everything. There had to be more to it than attraction. The big question was, could we build something on that chemistry? This was such an improbable match, I couldn’t believe it was more than a fluke. But what if it wasn’t? I intended to find out because I was used to getting what I wanted, and I wanted this man.

I took the private elevator to the top floor. My suite was bright and modern, a stark contrast to my public office one floor down. There it was all cherry wood and leather, the warm traditional look I presented to the public. But the private penthouse was my home when I was working on an important case so it was all me, a personal office, sitting room, kitchen, bedroom, and a large bath, even a walk-in closet stocked with some of my favorite paddles and floggers.

I listened to my voice mail and found a message from Brett Holiday, my best friend. No need to answer it. I’d be seeing him tonight. I went into the bathroom to check my appearance before taking the back stairs to my office.

Before settling in, I walked out to the front office to greet Aaron, who was now my newest paralegal. My current office manager was teaching him the ropes, a task I planned on taking over shortly. Pun intended.

Aaron always clocked in ahead of everyone, even me. He wanted to make a good impression, and he had. The man was a quick study and very professional, but he had other assets that sparked my interest.

I never forgot our first meeting. I liked his looks immediately -- dark blond hair, hazel eyes, slim build, but his stance was what caught my attention. Aaron stood in front of my desk, his back ramrod straight, arms at his sides, head up, eyes down. His deference was flattering to the point of overkill. I saw it as a tendency to yield to the will of another. He was hard-wired to be a submissive.

We made eye contact and it was hot as hell. I pictured us having wild sex and I sensed he felt the same. The undeniable connection between us was like an out-of-body experience. That mysterious attraction couldn’t be forced. It was what I longed for, but seldom found. Calm down, I told myself. Do not hire this man because you want to fuck him.

“Have a seat, Mr. Marshall.”

“Thank you.”

I decided to test the water. “Thank you, Sir.”

Aaron’s eyes went wide but he responded immediately. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

His reaction was beautiful to behold. Being told what to do excited him. I could tell he wanted me to take control, to dominate him. Anticipation shivered along my spine. I knew an untrained submissive when I saw one. Aaron was struggling to recover his self-command, but his desire and arousal shone like a beacon in a storm. I was intrigued.

 

About the Author

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.

 

Author Links

Visit Gale’s Website

Gale on Facebook

Follow her on BookBub

 

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

 

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BDSM Erotica Feature: Bunny's F*ckfest by Wanda Violet O. #excerpt #erotica #bdsm #comingsoon #rabtbooktours @changelingpress @RABTBookTours

 

 

BDSM Erotica

Date to be published: August 29, 2025

Publisher: ‎ Changeling Press LLC

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Daddy Dom BDSM Erotica short story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

Every night with Max is a rush, a storm of sensation and wild, beautiful chaos. But today? Today feels different. From the moment Max wakes me, in the naughtiest of ways, I know something’s about to change. I have a feeling whatever he has in store for me today may break me, unravel me to my very core, only to rebuild me stronger than ever before.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2025 Wanda Violet O.

I woke up to the feel of Max’s tongue between my thighs, pulling me from sleep with waves of pleasure that made my back arch off the silk sheets.

“Fuck, Max,” I gasped, my fingers tangling in his dark hair as he worked me with that skilled mouth of his. The morning light streaming through the windows of our suite caught the blue of his eyes as he looked up at me, never breaking rhythm. He knew exactly how to make me come undone, his tongue circling and flicking until my orgasm forced a scream from my throat as I trembled beneath him.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured against my skin, his voice rough with desire. “I wanted to give you a treat.” Another swipe with his tongue. Another moan from me. “Before you go to work today.”

“Work?” Oh, boy… I tried to act nonchalant, but I thought I’d failed when Max smirked at me.

“Yep. And, boy, are you going to need your strength today.” The wicked gleam in his eyes never failed to make me wet. That always meant something naughty and fun as fuck was about to follow.

I could barely form words as he continued his assault on my senses, building me higher and higher once more until I shattered with a cry that echoed through the room. My body convulsed as waves of pleasure crashed over me, and Max didn’t stop until I lay panting and boneless beneath him.

He crawled up my body like the predator he was, all muscle and controlled power, before claiming my mouth in a kiss that tasted of me and pure hunger. “You’re insatiable,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper.

“Daddy Jacob said I should put you in a good mood.” The rough timbre of his voice vibrated through my chest. “I’m just following orders.”

A shiver of anticipation raced through me. Daddy Jacob did this often for me and his Kitten -- a game we played. He and Max knew how we loved our “jobs” and they both took great delight in keeping me and Kitten as busy as we wanted to be. I’d come to love this play time. I also loved coming back to our suite and letting Max question me and repeating every single thing I’d done while away from him.

He didn’t push into me. Not yet. Instead he braced his weight above me, his arms caging me in, and bent to kiss me. His kiss, soft, almost reverent, carried the taste of my pussy on his tongue, filthy and sweet. I opened for him, letting him take what he wanted.

Max kissed like he did everything. With full attention, like there was nothing else in the world. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, burying my fingers in his thick hair. He growled low, a vibration that started in his chest and echoed in mine.

When he broke away, his face hovered just above mine, his eyes impossibly blue and focused.

“I need you, Max,” I whispered, my body still on edge despite the two earlier orgasms.

He flashed me a wolfish smile. “You’ll have me, little Bunny.”

Max reached over the edge of the bed, rummaging in the nightstand, a practiced move. Condoms and lube were two staples in this house. With practice ease, Max tore open the packet and rolled the condom down his length with a downward stroke of his hand. For a second, I let myself savor the view, admiring the way his cock jutted from his body, thick and veined and angry red at the tip. I ached for him to fuck me.

Max must have seen the hunger on my face because he gripped my hips tighter, his fingers digging into my soft curves. He lined up, teasing the head along my slit, and the heat of the intimate contact the ultimate tease.

He paused, holding himself at my entrance, his mouth at my ear. “You ready, Bunny?”

 

About the Author

Welcome to Wanda Violet O.'s world of bedtime fantasy, where you'll find a variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play... she's got it all. Come take a look for yourself!

 

Author Contact Links

Wanda on Facebook

Wanda on Goodreads

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today

Erotica Feature: Chain of Kisses by Angela Knight #preorder #comingsoon #excerpt #bdsm #erotica #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours @ChangelingPress @AngelaKnight

 

BDSM Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: June 13, 2025

 

Runaway Bride meets Unstoppable Force -- recipe for disaster? Or love rekindled?

 

For years, Prince Admiral Arles of Tor has been obsessed with Gisel Vanda, who jilted him at the altar. When he discovers the lovely runaway is now a mercenary space captain, he captures her, determined to get Gisel out of his system. He soon discovers she's even more intelligent and beautiful than he remembered, but she is also a political liability he can't afford.

Gisel bitterly regrets jilting Arles, and her love for him still burns bright. Even as he tests her with acts of erotic dominance, she sees the opportunity to redeem herself. But with a murderous enemy closing in, can love survive the demands of royalty?

EXCERPT

I gave the manacle on my right arm a restless tug, and it responded with a musical rattle. I couldn't see a damn thing. A blindfold bit into my temples, wrapping me in sensual, intimate darkness.

The lack of vision only made me more aware of him -- his scent, that faint tang of spice and masculinity, the heat of his big body standing just to the left of the bunk he'd chained me to, the slight rasp of his breathing. I have always been acutely aware of Prince Arles of Tor, once my intended, now my captor.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat down beside me. I quivered like an animal, imagining his nudity. The way he'd looked that night ten years before was branded on my memory. Arles's broad back had flexed as he'd used the light whip, the perfect, tanned hemispheres of his bare ass working in concert with the leap of thigh muscles and the snap of brawny arms.

The girl had squirmed and sighed every time he hit her. Even as young as I'd been a decade ago, I'd known she loved it. The smell of sex hung in the air like some kind of musky, exotic spice.

"That's what he'll do to you," my sister had whispered as we watched from the secret chamber. "And he'll make you want it. Mother will be appalled."

Our mother might have known Arles dominated other women, but it would never occur to her that one of her daughters would feel the need to submit.

We, after all, had been born to rule.

"Never," I'd snarled, with all the melodrama of the seventeen-year-old I'd been. I couldn't drag my eyes away from the prince's feral strength. "I will not shame my blood." I could feel myself going wet.

"You will. He'll weave his alien magic, and you'll bow that proud little head."

I feared Isa was right. Even if I hadn't been in love with him, Arles was too much for me. I'd end up sacrificing everything I was to his dominance and raw male power. My mother would turn from me in disgust and revulsion. I couldn't bear the thought of her disappointment.

But I also knew my mother would force me to abide by the demands of the treaty. Saying no at the altar was not an option.

Two hours later, I slipped from the palace, abandoning my world, my family, and my life. The Capital Spaceport was only a few blocks away, and I meant to seek passage off world. I was too well known to take a flitter taxi -- any capital cabbie knew my curfew and would refuse to pick me up, for fear of the Royal Guard's wrath -- so I decided to walk.

A block from my goal, I was attacked by a pack of throat slitters who dragged me into an alley. I survived only because a passing mercenary heard my screams and charged to the rescue. He killed every one of the slitters and flew me to his ship for treatment of some ugly injuries.

Captain Galon Teve had a merc's hard eyes, but his heart was soft. When I told him my story, the big, gray-haired cyborg took pity on me and hired me on as crew.

My new mentor taught me how to fight, how to kill, and how to pleasure. Yet no matter how I tried, I could never love Galon as he came to love me. My heart was already captive to a boy with a Paladin's eyes -- and a man with a devil's smile.

Under Galon's tutelage, I discovered a talent for tactics and strategy. Eventually I became his second-in-command. When Galon fell in battle against the Fafnar, I succeeded him as captain of the Valkyrie Quest.

Through it all, Arles haunted my shamed fantasies. I'd lie in my lonely bunk with one hand stroking between my thighs, remembering the shadows rolling across his big body in time to the snap of his whip.

Now it was no dream.

Arles touched my nipple, brushing calloused fingertips over the hard nubbin. Just once, but I still caught my breath at the liquid heat that rushed through me.

"Sensitive little breasts." His voice rumbled in the intimate darkness of my blindfold. "I wonder how you'll taste. Shall I find out?"

Saliva flooded my mouth, and I swallowed. I didn't answer.

"I asked you a question." His fingers closed over my flesh in a pinch carefully calibrated to give more pleasure than pain. Yet the potential sting floated just beneath the delight like a dark promise. "I want an answer. Shall I taste you?"

"You'll do as you please. You always do."

"True." He twisted, released, flicked the nipple back and forth, sending warm delight lapping along my nerves. "But a show of submission on your part might appease me."

"I rather doubt it."

"But can you afford to take the chance?" Another hot pinch, this one with a hint of sting. Perversely, I felt heat flood my belly. "My reputation is not exaggerated."

"I never thought it was."

"Perhaps a silk flogger." He brushed his hand over the sensitive flesh of my left breast, gave me a caressing squeeze. "Right across these pretty tits. I would enjoy watching you dance."

"I've heard that of you." I tried for a tone of mild contempt, but my voice sounded too high, too breathless. I silently cursed myself. I could usually act more skillfully for my enemies.

Unfortunately, I'd never seen Arles as a foe. Even now, bound and naked, I remembered the thoughtful boy who'd first taught me strategy over endless games of Conquest. The prince was even more skilled now, a conqueror of two worlds who'd driven the Fafnar from Torrean space with his ruthless, brilliant tactics. When Arles tracked me down three days ago, I'd known I was in trouble.

I wasn't really surprised, though. I'd known the prince would demand a reckoning one day; my actions had done too much damage to his reputation. Anybody who watched the news vids knew that.

I'd also known winning a fight with him wasn't likely. Arles commanded a huge, Starbreaker-class warship that was the pride of the Torrean fleet. Bristling with blaze cannons and thermal torpedoes, the Mjˆlnir outgunned the Valkyrie three to one. Naming that ship after Thor's Hammer had been entirely too apt.

But though the Valkyrie was small, she was fast and nimble. She proved it as the Mjˆlnir chased us for three days through the thickest asteroid field I could find. Arles caught us just as we prepared to escape into superlight space. A salvo of thermal torpedoes blew Valkyrie's quantum engines, leaving us dead in space.

The prince demanded my surrender as the price of my crew's lives. I didn't want my people to pay for my sins, so I'd agreed. Leaving the Valkyrie in the hands of my executive officer, I flew to meet Arles in my personal launch.

When I stepped off the small craft's ramp onto the Mjˆlnir's squadron deck, I found him holding a collar and a set of magnetic slave bands equipped with chains. The golden restraints were engraved with erotic images and studded with emeralds for maximum barbaric glitter. He'd chained and collared me as his grinning crew watched. I could only grind my teeth in rage, trying to ignore the heat in my cunt.

Now Arles traced one finger down my torso, dipped suggestively into my navel, and paused at the neatly trimmed edge of my bush. I managed not to squirm. "I have a suspicion you're wet," he said, his voice dark and low. "Are you? Do I arouse you, Gisel?" He laughed. "Odin knows you've made me hard and hot."

His fingers dipped between my spread thighs. Both of us groaned at the slick, tight flesh he found.

"Ripe," Arles murmured. "Ripe as a peachango. Ready for my cock. Is that what you want, Gisel?"

 

 

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.

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Erotica Feature: Ride 'Em Cowboy by Anne Kane #preorder #bdsm #erotica #comingsoon #excerpt #rabtbooktours @annekane @ChangelingPress @RABTBookTours

 

BDSM Romance, Contemporary

Date Published: June 6, 2025

When Fiona sees a gorgeous cowboy ride up on his Harley, she figures it's her lucky day. Bikers don't do forever, right? Her perfect match!

She really isn't in the market for a lover, or a partner, or some guy to give her a sappy-sweet happily ever after. Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it. They can tell each other a few lies, scratch each other's itches, then go their separate ways.

The last thing she needs is to hook up with some guy she'll smack headlong into at church tomorrow. She just wants a nice one-night stand. She plans to be long gone come breakfast time.

Simple, right? So how did it all go so very wrong?

EXCERPT

Fiona wasn’t really in the market for a lover or a partner or some guy to give her a sappy, sweet, happily ever after. Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it. She didn’t believe in any of that romance novel type crap. All she needed was a nice quick fuck to take the edge off.

Okay, maybe not so quick. She was wound pretty tight. It could take a while. She’d be happy spending a few hours trying out different positions and options. According to the Kama Sutra there were over sixty-four sexual positions, and she’d only tried about a dozen of them, tops. Lots of fun still waiting in those pages.

She didn’t want any strings attached, though. She hated it when the guy felt he had to pretend to care about her just to get into her panties. She planned to be long gone before it was time to discuss breakfast options.

She wasn’t some weak-kneed virgin with stars in her eyes. She knew the score. She’d been married at the tender age of seventeen and the term “hell on Earth” didn’t begin to describe it. Sure he said he cared, but his brand of caring had left her so gun-shy she refused to attend any and all weddings, let alone participate in one in any way. At twenty-two, she was done trusting anyone else with her happiness or well-being.

She still bore the scars from her last tiff with the hubby, and the bill from a month spent in the hospital recuperating. The doctor said he could maybe do something about the scars, make them less visible, but she figured, why bother? She’d earned them, and at the current interest rate on the loan she’d had to take out to pay the hospital bill, she’d still be paying for them a decade from now.

She picked a bar four towns over for her evening’s activities. No chance she might run into the guy at church the next day. She attended church every single Sunday, rain or shine. Not sure why. Not sure if she still believe in God and heaven, but she sure as shit didn’t want to go back to hell.

Again, been there, done that.

The flashing neon sign over the door claimed the beer was cold and the band was hot. She felt the corner of her lips curl up in a smile. Now that sounded like exactly the kind of place where she’d find what she was looking for.

She pulled her old Chevy truck into the parking lot and undid the top four buttons on her blue-checked shirt. She had decent boobs, and the frilly black bra she’d bought last week showed the cleavage off nicely. She was wearing jeans and cowboy boots, and she’d spent a goodly amount of time on her makeup.

She knew she looked good. Not office-type good, but I-want-to-get-laid good. The blue shirt showed off her eyes, and the jeans showed off her ass. She had to suppress a giggle at the thought of her co-workers. Her day job was as a receptionist at a church and her boss, Reverend Mac, would have a heart attack if he saw her in this outfit.

If she didn’t get laid tonight it wouldn’t be for lack of trying.

The sound of a motorcycle approaching at Mach One had her turning her head. Sure enough, a Harley the size of a small tugboat roared into the lot and the rider did some fancy maneuvering to bring it to a stop without standing it on the handlebars. The guy was either showing off for someone she couldn’t quite see, or he needed a cold beer worse than she needed to get laid.

That piqued her curiosity. She needed to get laid pretty bad.

She’d made the mistake of thinking she could get along without a man but it turned out that adult toys only went so far toward satisfying her carnal cravings. Nothing felt quite as good as a hot, hard cock ramming into her pussy, and it needed to have a man attached to it for optimum sensual sensation.

Yup, she needed a man, and a mouthwatering specimen was currently disentangling himself from the Harley. He shrugged out of the well-worn leather jacket, draping it across the handlebars, and she restrained the urge to drool. His tight shirt outlined a muscular chest before it tucked into a nice pair of jeans covered by leather chaps. No, wait. As she watched the rider unbuckled the chaps and stuffed them into the saddlebags. That maneuver required him to turn his back on her and bend over ever so slightly.

Damn, those jeans looked good on him! She stared at that ass like a dumbstruck teenager until the man straightened up and plucked a worn cowboy hat from under the cargo netting on the back of the seat. Jamming the hat onto his head, he sauntered over to the entrance. When he disappeared through the door, she picked her jaw up off the floorboards and took a deep breath. She could just imagine how gorgeous he’d look once she managed to entice him out of the remainder of his clothing.

Taking a quick peek in the rearview mirror, she fluffed up her hair and opened the truck door. Operation Get Some Action was officially a go...

About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

 

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Erotica Feature: Kitten's Bunny by Wanda Violet O #bdsm #erotica #comingsoon #excerpt #rabtbooktours @ChangelingPress @RABTBookTours

 

Contemporary BDSM Erotica

Date Published: June 6, 2025

 

 

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Daddy Dom BDSM Erotica short story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

 

I’ve never been happier in my life than I am since I’ve come to live with Max. Then I meet Kitten and my world changes again. She’s kind and sweet and, oh, so sensual.

I’m about to find out what it’s like to be Kitten’s Bunny.

EXCERPT

“There you are, Bunny!”

I had been enjoying the warm spring air wafting through the open window and seating a bunny tail butt plug into my ass when the door to the bedroom I shared with Max burst open. I was bent over at the waist adjusting the end of the tail while looking back in a three-way mirror set up specifically for this purpose. The plug had a curved silicone extension that fit between my cheeks so that the puffy tail sat at the base of my spine.

I grinned over my shoulder at the small woman. She had on a headband with cat ears and a long, furry cat tail that swished with the sway of her hips as she moved. Normally. Right now, the tail was trailing along behind her as she bounded toward me in her excitement. Like me, the ears and tail were all she was wearing. I barely got turned around before she threw herself at me. Kitten was very affectionate, once she got to know you.

I wasn’t too proud to admit the feel of Kitten’s lithe body pressed against mine was a bit of a turn on. Though I appreciated a beautiful body, whether man or woman, I’d never been particularly attracted to a woman before. But Kitten was special, and I was certainly susceptible to her charms. Probably because, since I’d been with Max, he’d kept me in a heightened state of arousal almost continually. And I enjoyed every fucking second of our play.

I returned her hug with a tight, happy hug of my own. “I’m almost ready. Do you know what’s going on?”

Kitten nipped my ear playfully. “Yep. Come on.”

I laughed at her lightheartedness. Kitten loved to play. Right now, she had what looked like a case of the zoomies. She’d most certainly been aptly named. We’d been fast friends almost from the moment we met. Had that been five months ago? Daddy Jacob had insisted on waiting to introduce me to Kitten until he was sure I wasn’t going to hurt her by leaving abruptly. He’d been right. Kitten loved with her whole heart, and I was honored to have found a place in her life. “Wait! I need my ears!”

Kitten huffed out a mock exasperated breath, but I saw her lips twitch. “So high maintenance. It’s a good thing you have me.” We giggled as she helped me with my bunny ears and gave my hair one last fluff. “Max will be so proud of you.” Practically bouncing on her toes, she gave me a huge smile as she moved around the room looking for… something. Another accessory for my hair? Different bunny ears? I was partial to the pink ones. In the end she didn’t change anything, only fussed over me. With every excited squeal, Kitten’s breasts jiggled enticingly. I knew she had a child, and maybe there were a few stretch marks on her tummy, but her body was tight and toned, her breasts small but firm and perfectly formed.

“Are we ready? I think we’re ready!” The smile on Kitten’s face was so beautiful she nearly took my breath. She was flushed with excitement, which fueled my own anticipation. Whatever was about to happen was something she was looking forward to in the extreme.

It wasn’t unusual for us to help each other get ready when one of our men decided to share us. Kitten often helped me pick out different tails and ears when my turn came to be the entertainment after one of Daddy Jacob’s meetings. We always had great fun.

We hurried down the long hall together, both of us giggling. I was hand in hand with Kitten as she took us to the grand staircase. Naked. Fun times! We skipped playfully down the stairs, laughing the whole way. I was becoming more and more aroused the longer I was in Kitten’s company. The woman simply oozed sex appeal, and I was not immune. I didn’t know the protocol for this kind of situation, so I’d feel much better once I was with Max again. Or at least had him give me the OK to do whatever.

Enzo stood at the bottom of the stairs, greeting us with a warm smile. He was not only in charge of security for all of us, but also Daddy Jacob’s oldest and most trusted friend. Kitten launched herself at Enzo with a squeal, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist in delight.

Enzo’s warm chuckle filled the massive formal entry hall. “Ah, little Kitten. You’re full of energy this evening, aren’t you?”

“I am, Enzo. Are you joining us later?” Kitten smiled up at him. Enzo’s affection for Kitten was obvious. Same as Kitten’s affection for Enzo was plain to see.

The big man gave her one hard squeeze before gently setting her on her feet. “Afraid not. I’m sure I’ll see you both soon though.” He gave me a wink as he bent to kiss Kitten on the lips. She giggled and wrapped her arms back around him so he could deepen the kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth until Kitten was purring like, well, a Kitten.

“Enzo.” Daddy Jacob stepped out of his study and leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head. If I’d thought Daddy Jacob would be angry or jealous another man was kissing his wife, I’d have been wrong. Daddy Jacob grinned and shook his head as if Kitten’s antics amused him. “Would you be so kind as to allow me the use of my wife this evening?”

Enzo smiled down at Kitten with affection and not a small amount of lust. “Only if you let me have the privilege of her company later in the week when I’m not on duty.”

“You’re always on duty,” Daddy Jacob shot back, but his lips spread wider and his eyes were merry. “But I think we can work something out.”

 

About the Author

Welcome to Wanda Violet O.'s world of bedtime fantasy, where you'll find a variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play... she's got it all. Come take a look for yourself!

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Gay Romance Feature: North Storm by Will Okati #action #adventure #preorder #comingsoon #bdsm #mmromance #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours

 

A Gay BDSM Sea Adventure Romance

 

Action Adventure, BDSM, Gay Romance

To Be Published: May 30, 2025

 

North, a rural water farmer, has come to the big citta to be trained in the art of deep-water treasure diving. A man can make enough in a season to take care of his family for years -- except as a novice and a country boy, North can't find anyone willing to teach him the job.

That is, until he finds a mentor in the wild, sexually charismatic "Storm." Storm promises to teach North everything he knows, from navigating the dangers of the hunt to submission in bed -- but only if North is willing to give himself over completely.

Praise for North Storm

 

"Will Okati has once again written a book that will capture you attention from the first page, with the rich world in which this story unfolds and with the lava hot sensuality that the characters express. The love that these two share will leave you flushed and reaching for something to cool down!"

--Sabella, Joyfully Reviewed

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2025 Will Okati

 

For someone who had been raised on the sea, North was beginning to hate the sight of it. Blue waters, green, aqua, all of them stretching as far as his eyes could see. He'd been rowing for two weeks now, the winds too calm for his small sail to pick up much of a breeze to help propel him forward.

Lucky for him, then, that he'd almost arrived at his destination.

Just ahead, North could see the tall, stone turrets and walkways of the Citta del'Acqua, the massive capital of his world. There were other boats not too far away, fishermen dangling rods over their sides and glancing up in interest at North, scruffy from his fortnight's travel and pale with exhaustion.

"Ho!" one of them shouted, his voice carrying across the water. "Where are you bound, boy?"

"I'm no boy!" North fired back automatically. True, he looked younger than his years, but he'd passed boyhood five years back and was fully an adult. He hated it when people thought him younger than he was.

"Oh, oh, a temper he has, a fine temper!" The fisherman and his cronies laughed. Still others lifted their heads to watch. "Well, firebrand, where are you going? Come to see the sights of the citta?"

North sailed in a little closer, careful not to lose control of his small craft and bump into one of the fishing boats. "I'm looking for the master clamsmen," he said, once he didn't have to shout. "The divers. Can you tell me where to find them?"

The fishermen laughed. "A boy from the country, come to be a diver?" One of them hooted. "Boy, have you ever been deeper than eight feet below the surface of the water?"

North stiffened. "I'm not a boy. And yes, I have been further down. Fifteen feet, last I counted."

"You'd have to go a distance more to hunt the clams," the fisherman said, his weathered face crinkling in amusement. "What are you really doing here, anyway? Run away from home, did you, boy?"

North's jaw tightened. "Just tell me where I can find the divers," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll be on my way, then."

"Why, when this is so much more fun?" The fisherman gestured toward his boat. "Come on, we've a spare rod and reel. You could help us out with the day's work, and we'd split the catch evenly. Give you a little money to help you through your first night here. Plenty of wine, song, and women, eh?" He winked and splashed his oar into the water, to the great amusement of his mates.

North shook his head. "I prefer men. And I'd rather not stay and fish." His back was still bristling from their calling him boy. "Do you know where the divers are or not?"

"Well!" The fisherman drew himself upright, as if taking offense at North's rejection of his offer. "There's no need to get all hoity-toity with me, young man. Of course I know where the divers are, but why should I tell you? You haven't earned the right to the knowledge yet."

North sighed. If this was the way they operated in these parts, he'd just as soon go home. But he couldn't, could he? He'd come to the citta for two reasons: one, to learn how to dive for the giant clams that had bizarrely migrated to his village, and two, to learn how to be a Man Hand, one of those who taught others how to give sexual pleasure. And how could he teach if he didn't know himself? "Fine," he said, taking out his own rod and reel. "If I catch a fish for you, will you be happy then? Will you tell me where to find what I'm looking for?"

The fishermen nudged each other, grinning. "A big fish," their leader clarified. "Larger than my hand, and thicker than my arm. None of this penny-ante stuff for us, thank you. Then we'll send you on your way."

"Good," North said, as he reached into his nearly empty bait bucket and pulled out a scrap of dead fish innards from the last meal he'd caught. "Storm is waiting for me. Or at least his letter said he was supposed to be."

The fisherman's jaw dropped. "S-Storm?" he asked after a moment, voice wobbling. "You're supposed to report to Storm?"

"Why?" North cast his line. "Is there more than one?" He grinned wickedly at the fisherman, who looked completely taken aback, mouth moving in a useless motion up and down. "No worries. I'll be sure to tell him what good care you took of me." He laughed to himself, softly, as the fisherman began to curse underneath his breath. No, indeed. He was no callow boy to be played with.

About the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will's definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he -- not she anymore -- is a lot less quiet these days.

 

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