GEORGIA KNIGHTS by Julia Talbot

GEORGIA KNIGHTS by Julia Talbot

When anthropologist Georgia Cortez heads to rural Georgia from New Mexico, she’s on the trail of a juicy old legend. Haley Falls seems like just the place for old-time ghost stories and spooky hauntings, but she’s on the hunt for something far rarer, a survival of an old sect of medieval knights.

Caid and Alton are Haley Fall natives, and they used to be best friends. A falling out years ago ended in them not speaking, even after Alt left town and returned older, if not wiser. They unite when it comes to a nosy scholar like Georgia picking apart their heritage, and putting their whole town in danger. When boys meet girl, though, they decide wooing is far better than scaring the lady off, and they set about distracting Georgia in the best way.

While their three way romance heats up, so does the intrigue in Haley Falls, until the three of them are facing a danger far worse than falling in love with each other.

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~Excerpt~

"So, who's the new girl?" Alton Caballo asked when he went to fill up his big pickup. "Heard she stopped by here to get gas."

"Everyone stops by here to get gas." Caid stared at him like he'd lost his mind, looking damned fine in a pair of old Levi's and his uniform shirt. Too bad Caid wasn't interested. Alton was. Hell, he'd been trying for years. Probably would have succeeded by now if he hadn't left town all those years ago.

"Well, what's her deal?"

"She told Amy she was looking into the legends of the waterfall. She's from New Mexico. Her last name is Cortez."

"New Mexico, huh? I reckon that's a new one. And she's pretty?"

Caid's stare sharpened. "I'm sure she's just passing through, Alt. She don't need you sniffing around like a blue tick hound."

"Why not?" Damn it, he got bored. A man could only make so much moonshine and do so much ridge running. Sometimes he needed a distraction while he waited for the next batch of southern lightning to cure up. Miss Georgia Cortez might be a whole lot more accommodating than, say, Caid Chevalier.

"She's just here on some hoodoo hunt; she'll be gone soon enough." Caid went to filling his tank, and Alt knew it galled the man to have to wait on him, but old Frank wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"I like a woman with a sense of adventure, I surely do." He chewed on his toothpick, having a think. "I bet she'd like to meet my pappy. He's got some story in him."

"Too much story, you ask me." Those green eyes went hard, staring right into his, the meaning clear. "He don't rightly know what not to say anymore."

Oh, now. He did hate when Caid got all self-righteous on his ass. "Now, I think Pappy tells a right good tale. He knows his stories."

"He does, and when he sits around with us guys and bullshits it's one thing. This lady's got some smart on her." Caid glanced around, like anyone could be hiding out and listening without them damned well seeing them. "I read a few of her articles online."

"God for fucking bid. You think them gub'ment guys might be scanning your brain through that thing?" Alt could do backwoods with the best of 'em.

Caid took two steps forward and poked him in the chest. "I mean she's smart, and for all her bluster about being an anthropologist, she's a treasure hunter."

Alton snorted. "Hell, man. You think if all them boys with the equipment and crap that come back in eighty-five couldn't find nothing, this little gal can? Shit. There's snakes and bugs and all."

"She's from New Mexico. They got bugs we haven't even heard of."

Honestly, Caid was such a damned worrywart.

"Yeah, and we got kudzu. Man, you need to get laid."

Those blond eyebrows went up, Caid's mouth dropping open. "I need to get... Aw, man, don't start that again. I can't help it you're a horndog."

"No. No, I don't reckon you can. You done yet, man? I'm gonna head into town." He pulled a couple of twenties from his fold over wallet, finishing his beer to take the bitter out of his mouth.

"Yeah." Capping him off, Caid put his gas cap back in place, giving him his change. "Look, I know you hate being told what to do, so I'm asking. Leave the lady alone."

"Jesus. It ain't like I'm lookin' to skin her and drag her off to my cabin. Shit, you want her, go get her." He just wanted to have a looksee.

"I'm thinking about it." Oh, now, look at that smile. That grin was the kind of thing Caid needed to do more often. Made that square face so pretty it took Alt's breath.

"Good luck on that, then." He handed over his money and waited for the change. Fuckhead.

Caid gave him his change, those rough fingers sliding over his hand, almost friendly like. Real friendly, as far as his lower body was concerned.

"You have a good one, man. Maybe, if she likes bad boys instead of angel babies, you can have a go at Amy."

"Fuck you, too, Alt." Stepping back, Caid waved him off, and it was just as well. Nosy old Suellen Carter was pulling up in her Caddy.

He waved happily, grinning to beat the band. Sometimes it felt damn good to win a little.

Damn good.

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FOUND by Julia Talbot

FOUND by Julia Talbot

Elemental Ops Three

Elemental Ops has been dealing with good dragons and bad guys for just long enough that they think they might survive. Second-in-command Jack learns to bond with his dragon companion, Serena, just in time for all hell to break loose again in the form of government analyst Lane, who shows up at the dragon stronghold to find out why the team went AWOL. Jack's got his sense of humor, and his lusty appetite, back just in time to handle Lane while the other Ops members are still on the mend.

Lane knows he's only on this assignment because he screwed up his last mission. What's an analyst doing on missions anyway? Sexy agents like One-Eyed Jack are not for him, but he can't deny their instant connection, or his new bond with baby dragon Geri. Can Jack and Lane figure out how to keep his new family safe from the government bureaucrats who want their hands on the dragons, and the Ops team?

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Excerpt:

Found (Elemental Ops 3)
Julia Talbot
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Julia Talbot

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

A dragon.

Jesu Cristo. What the hell was old Jack gon' do with an orange, highfalutin, female dragon?

Jacques looked at Serena, who had color back in her scales now that she wasn't wasting away thanks to him ignoring her. He smiled a little. He was gonna love her. That was what he'd do. After that, well, he had no idea.

Serena looked at him, rolled her pretty, multi-faceted eyes. Silly man.

"Well, I didn't know dragons existed 'til just these last days," Jack said out loud. Talking inside not out was gonna be odd.

She snorted, but she was pleased, he could tell. Her tail said so, the end flicking his ear. Crazy beast.

He glanced around, realizing the other dragons, and his team, had left them alone. Shit, how much time had passed? Hours? Days? His belly rumbled like Keon's big dragon Damien was in there.

Her head tilted. Hungry?

"I am, cherie. Starving." He could eat an alligator.

Show you. Serena led the way, making oddly musical noises. Dragon humming.

He could hear the echo of it in his head, too, like she was only being polite making noises out loud. In his mind, she was singing operas. Jack grinned. It did scramble his brain a bit.

"You got to be so girly-girl? Can't you be macho?" He poked her haunch.

She fluttered her eyelashes at him, then bared her teeth, showing a line of long, needle-sharp weapons that would rip his arm off.

"Well, now, that kind of fierce I can get behind."

"Hey." Gig, their Elemental Ops tech guy wandered into the hall, his little Asian dragon clinging to his shoulder. "Shannon is cooking."

"Good. God, I'm starving to death."

The little beast named Cor hid from Jack, face in Gig's throat.

"Don't worry, little dude. I won't let him eat you." Gig stroked Cor's tail.

What a weird turn life had taken.

Keon wandered by, caressing Serena along the way, the odd little man Zen as hell. That crazy hair and mostly naked body still made Jack stare. Lord, he must need to get laid bad if he was jealous that Ice was getting some of that. The scent of bacon and onions hit his nose and sex left his mind in a rush.

"Smells good, Shan." Jack walked into the big kitchen and smiled at the big redheaded soldier who'd been his friend for so long. "No dragon for you, huh?"

"Nope. I'm not hook-up-able."

"Shit, don't say that around here." Ice came in, that white-blond crew cut growing out a little, the smile on Ice's face making Jacques blink. Lord, this place was good for the man.

Shan snorted. "True story. You guys are caught through the..."

Ice cleared his throat. "Little ears."

Shannon blinked, then broke into a huge, booming laugh. "Dude, they're not babies, are they? I mean, they're dragons."

Not a baby. Serena sounded so put out.

"No, but I think Cor might be, sweet girl."

He's tiny. Scared. I am not scared. Grown up.

You're my so brave girl. Jack was amazed at how fast he could go from denial to pure love. He'd been a pure-D idiot, trying to push his dragon away, and his Serena, well, shit. She was the finest young lady he'd ever known. Strong. Brave.

She trilled happily and rubbed her head against his arm, and he scratched her eye ridges, pushing gently.

"Look at you two. You're basking, which, okay, she's a lizard."

Serena was going to bite Shannon. Jack saw the image clearly in his head.

"Shut up, Shan. You just wait. Your turn is coming." Gig sounded so sure.

"Nonsense." Shannon reached into the cooler and pulled out a metric fuck ton of bacon. Jack stared, wondering where that had come from.

"Who does logistics for the dragons?" he asked Ice.

"Keon and some guy in town his family has known for years."

"Some guy? They have all these kids up here and it's some guy?"

Ice's blue eyes narrowed at him. "What are you trying to say, Jack?"

"That we need protection. Real protection for these guys who are trying to come up here and mess with our dragons."

Ice nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest to lean back against the counter. "Okay. I can buy that. I guess that means you're staying around, Mister I'm Not a Dragon Man?"

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PHOTOREALISM by Julia Talbot

PHOTOREALISM by Julia Talbot

Nature photographer July is determined to capture a moose in his lens during a trip to Colorado. What he finds instead is a beautiful wolf who seems more than happy to pose for him. Rhys wants July to see him as a man, too, but can he convince July that his shifting abilities are real?

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Also available in the DAWG DAYS Anthology which includes stories from Julia Talbot, Jae Christopher, V.L. Locey, Winnie Jerome, Mychael Black, Cecil Wilde, M. Lee, Tray Ellis, Rob Rosen, L.J. Hamlin and Lorne Rodman

Excerpt:

July James aimed his powerful lens at the wolf cavorting in the water. Wolf reintroduction on Grand Mesa was going well from what he could see. This guy was a huge, healthy male with a glossy gray and black coat. The wet tail waved furiously, the wolf jumping and playing in the cold creek, bouncing as if he was hunting in the snow.

God, that was adorable. July had come to the big flattop mountain in Western Colorado to photograph moose, which were also a successful reintroduction, but this wolf had caught his attention three days ago, and he'd been stalking the silly beast since then.

The only worrisome thing about the big gray was how solitary he seemed. Wolves ran in packs, so why was this one so alone? He didn't seem to have any rabies symptoms, and God knew he looked healthy. Then again, he wasn't wearing any kind of radio tag, so maybe he was a wandering male.

Still, the pictures were totally worth the extra time he'd have to spend camping so he could get his moose shots, too. There was something about this animal, something that drew him, made him want to fill a dozen memory cards with images.

He brought the camera around to another angle, his eye at the view instead of watching the digital screen. July froze then, because the wolf stopped its play and turned its head to stare at him, right at him, it seemed. Those golden eyes met his, steady and unafraid, and July felt a lot less like a professional photographer and more like a yummy chew toy for those few moments.

Backing off slowly, he packed his camera away, careful to keep one eye on the wolf. Then he moved carefully toward the main trail, which would have enough foot traffic during these summer months to deter the wolf from following him. His heart slammed against his ribcage. Damn, he was lucky this particular wolf wasn't running with a pack and had only himself to protect and feed.

That had been entirely too close.

Maybe he'd take the rest of the day off. Who really wanted to work on a day as pretty as this anyway?

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FASTER BOBCAT by Julia Talbot

DESIGNATED BOTTOMS 

With Stories by Katey Hawthorne, Kiernan Kelly, Sean Michael, Julia Talbot, BA Tortuga, KC Wells and Shannon West

Some men are bottoms by birth, others by choice. Whatever the reason, a designated bottom is someone who’s happy to surrender, to submit, or just catch instead of pitch!

In Czech Me Out, by BA Tortuga, Korde discovers what it’s like to fall for someone when food truck owner Josh takes on the cowboy virgin.

Katey Hawthorne’s gamer grad student Paul doesn’t date. He keeps things strictly physical. So why is Sammy so important to him in The Mistell?

Kitty shifter and stripper Aleks doesn’t mix business with pleasure, but he thinks Rafe might just be the master for him in Julia Talbot’s Faster Bobcat.

Sean Michael’s Peter isn’t sure about the club his friend takes him to, especially when Doms start hitting on him. Experienced Dom Rupert is happy to help, explaining about that Little Square of Cloth.

In Sgt. Hardass, by Shannon West, recent ex-Army man Jake meets up with a man he has history with, and Chad isn’t sure he can explain himself and defuse Jake’s anger.

In the Prince of Paupers by Kiernan Kelly, Prince Liam and longtime friend Deacon have to go back to Deacon’s Appalachian home, much to the prince’s dismay.

And in Switching It Up by KC Wells, Jay knows he looks like a twink, but only hunky Dean understands that looks can be seriously deceptive.

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FASTER BOBCAT by Julia Talbot

Stripper Aleksy never mixes business with pleasure. And he certainly never dates another shifter. At least until he meets Rafe at his job, and can’t resist the chance to find the master he dreams about.

Rafe knows Aleksy is what he needs for the night. He’s just not certain he wants to take on a full-time sub. What he finds out is that he can’t live without Aleksy, but will he figure it out too late?

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Story also appears in Designated Bottoms Anthology.

Excerpt from FASTER BOBCAT by Julia Talbot

“Aleksy, I need you over at table four.”

Aleksy glanced at his boss, who looked cool as a cucumber even though the damned air conditioning had gone out the day before and no one had been around to fix it. He supposed the heat made them all gleam a little more, made them look oiled and sexy.

He just hoped to hell he didn’t stink.

“Why’s that?” he asked. He had a gaggle of ladies at table six who wanted him to hang around for bottle service and musical grinding. They looked to be a huge tip, so he hated to abandon them.

“Special request.” Katia curled her lip at him, a hint of happy revenge in her expression. He had turned her down after she hired him and, while she’d taken it gracefully, she liked to put him in the most uncomfortable situations she could.

Hence taking him away from a great guaranteed tip and giving him to a private table that could only seat two, at best.

Aleksy sighed, but nodded. He liked his job at Faster Bobcat, and he had no desire to lose it by being petulant. The place was classy and the ladies rarely got grabby hands. He made some of the best money in Vegas off the strip. His boss wasn’t bitchy, but she could be a little grumpy once in a while.

He dropped off the bottle and introduced Carlo, who would take his place at the table. “Sorry, ladies,” he replied to the good-natured chorus of negatives. “Duty calls. Carlo will take good care of you.”

Then he squared his shoulders, made sure his tiny shorts covered his junk, and headed for table four.

The shadowy form sitting in the deeply recessed booth resolved itself into a strikingly handsome man with shaggy black hair and bright green eyes. Dressed in an impeccable silk shirt and gabardine trousers, the long, well-made body made Aleksy’s belly tighten. Pretty.

His boss thought he’d turned her down because she wasn’t pretty enough or something, so she was punishing him with a male client. Thing was, Aleksy had turned her down because he was queer, so this wasn’t punishment at all.

Well, except in the whole this guy was attractive and he was at work sort of way.

“Good evening, Sir. Welcome to Faster Bobcat. May I get you something to drink?”

The man looked him over, a slight smile playing around the sensual mouth. “I’d like bottle service, please. Patron, if that’s not too cliché.”

Aleksy gave an answering smile. “Anything you like is perfectly fine, Sir. I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you.”

He turned and left, feeling the weight of the man’s stare on his back. Some people were like that, their charisma like a physical touch. He took a deep breath, his muscles clenching and unclenching. Maybe the guy would be a good tipper, as nicely as he was dressed. Then Friday night wouldn’t be a complete waste.

He got the bottle, a glass, some ice just in case, and salt and lime. No munchies. His new client didn’t look like a nuts and pretzels type. They had a limited menu of premium food; he would ask later if anything sounded good.

“Here you are, Sir,” Aleksy murmured, when he returned to the table. “Would you like me to pour?”

“No, I can do that.”

Nodding, he set the tray on the table and backed off a step, hands at his sides. “I understand you made a special request for me. May I perform anything special for you?”

“For now I would simply like to look at you.” The man reached for the Patron. “Will you put your hands up behind your neck, please? I think that pose shows off a man’s body to its best advantage.”

The words made him blink. His cheeks heated, which felt ridiculous since he stripped for a living. Somehow just standing there on display seemed far more intimate than gyrating away to the music.

“What’s your name?” the client asked, which set him back on his heels again.

How could he have forgotten to introduce himself with his stage name? “Lex.”

“Lex.” The client smiled before salting the rim of his glass. “Are you an Alex or an Alexander?”

“Aleksy.” It slipped out before he thought about it. He never told clients his real name.

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AN AUSPICIOUS MOON by Julia Talbot

AN AUSPICIOUS MOON by Julia Talbot

From cat shifter to werewolves, An Auspicious Moon collects seven short stories about the animal inside.

Sit up and Beg and Sit Pretty features Killian and Evan, the werewolf and the man who saved him from captivity.

In Chew Toy, CIA agent Jack thinks being eaten by a tiger is a bad way to go. Good thing the tiger is also a man. Crate Trained sees Gary getting a bite he never expected during casual sex.

In Doggie Style, Ray thinks Doc is just a new foster pet. He’s in for a shock. Finally, in Wolfy Resolutions, Cage has no desire to go to his demon friend’s party, but it might be worth his while.

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~Excerpt~

"Sit up and beg."

"You're crazy," Killian said, fingers dancing in the air just over the collar wrapped around his neck. "I'm a werewolf, not a pet."

The collar was driving him fucking crazy. It had to weigh several pounds, and it was like those radio collars so-called scientists put on wild animals. More like sadists. Let's make the animal stand out from all the other animals so it's ostracized and killed!

That wasn't the purpose of Killian's collar. His was more like one of those sci-fi series shock collars. Misbehave and get electrocuted. Or at least fried like a hairy sausage.

No, his collar was designed to kick his ass if he tried to get loose.

The guy who had finally appeared in front of the cage his kidnappers had put him in smiled. "I guess you are, at that. At least for now. These guys? They want to make you a fighting dog. A human pit bull, if you will."

"These guys?" Killian eyed the big man, noting the faded jeans and button-down shirt, the strapped on shoulder-holster. "What are you?"

"I'm just hired security."

"Hired…" Damn. Damn, damn, damn. Anyone who could work for the guys who'd taken him as a hired gun would probably only respond to one thing. Money. That was a commodity that Killian was flat out of.

"Yep." The guy nodded, blue eyes twinkling. Maybe glinting. A glint was more shark-like, right?

"Well. Stop taunting the captive, Mr. Security."

"But it's so much fun!" The guy tilted his head. "And it's Evan."

"Why do I care?" Killian tugged at the collar again, wondering if it would just fry him if he went berserk and changed. He could do full on wolf, but that wouldn't help him. He'd have to try and maintain that transitional stage, where he was a huge, misshapen mix of man and wolf, which was tough to do even when he wasn't singing the song of electrocution.

"Because I've been thinking of letting you out of here."

Widening his eyes, Killian went for shocked. It wasn't a stretch. "What?"

Evan sighed. "You're different. I've seen maybe twenty, twenty five guys come through here in the last two weeks. They've all been… damaged. Broken, somehow. You seem like just a guy."

"I just told you I'm a werewolf, and I seem like just a guy?" That was a new one on him. He'd been called a lot of things lately, including "bitch" by the one skinny little guy with the cruel smile and cold hands, but just a guy wasn't one of them.

Shrugging, Evan smiled a little, the little curl of the upper lip kinda hot. "My mom was a were-cat. It's recessive with me, but my sister is a shifter."

Matter-of-fact and… "Wait. If your family is were-friendly, then how on earth…"

"Can I work for these guys?" Evan leaned close to the bars of the cage. "So when someone like you comes along, I can get you the hell out of here."

He blinked, just stunned as all hell. Man, it had been one weird day. His fingers grazed the collar again. "Can you get this thing off me?"

"Not without the controller." Evan's well-shaped mouth twisted a little. "I'll get it. They think I'm kinda mindless. Won't be hard."

"Says you. I can't get past the bars without falling down."

"I know." Cocking his head, Evan grunted. "You'd better make like you're still drugged up. They won't poke you until you're awake and aware. I'll be back."

Amazing, how Evan had heard their incipient company before he had. Killian thought his hearing was pretty damned good.

He curled down around himself, protecting his privates and pretending to sleep. Evan's footsteps faded away, and Killian figured that was the end of that. He'd never see the guy again.

Pity. Evan was damned pretty. Too damned pretty for Killian's piece of mind.



"What do you mean broke?" The urge to pull the phone away from his ear and stare at it was strong. Huge, because Colby couldn't stare at Little Mike in person. "Like Shiloh Walker cracked that vertebra last year?"

"Like he cain't breathe on his own no more, Colb. Like he ain't never gonna be whole." Little Mike sounded lower than a worm. "Alan's been wantin' to come on home to you, so I told him to load up all the horses and head out. He had a two hour drive to fetch them back 'fore he could get started."

Jesus. The words hit him, each one a blow to the chest. "What do you need, Mikey? You know I'll help any way I can."

"There's no help now. He's got pneumonia. He can't breathe on his own and he's done give up. You know James -- he don't want to live like this."

"I know. I-- Christ, I'm sorry, Mikey. You let me know what you need with the stuff." He meant bills or funeral arrangements or anything. Mike knew that, too. He'd come to the service, but if Mike needed him before that...

"You got it. Tell Alan to give Elvis some oats for me."

"I will." He went ahead and hung up, knowing Mike didn't need his worry or sorrow. The man had enough of his own. James was the best of all of them, and this broken neck and severed spinal cord was no way for a cowboy to go.

He tried to call Alan again and got nothing. Someone let his minutes run out again, he'd bet. Damn it, where was the damned fool? Even with going back for the horses, Alan should have been here by now. He hoped Alan knew he was still welcome, even though Colby had gotten tired of being second to the rodeo, had maybe had a little snit and not answered the phone for a bit.

This was still Alan's home, right?

God, he hoped so. Hell, he didn't know anything right now, his head reeling from what Mike had told him. He gritted his teeth. He'd need to get some stalls ready for the horses.

He assumed there were three horses coming -- Little Mike's Elvis, Alan's Joanie, and whatever little mare James had been able to afford. Alan pulled a three horse trailer and no one had called for money to rent a bigger one. Hell, Alan's truck didn't have a gooseneck hitch anyway...

Colby pushed his phone into his pocket and headed down to the barn. He'd need to feed and water, check shoes and hooves, and make sure they all got a vet check-up this week.

Dust started billowing near the gate, the big metal thing sliding open. Huge black Ford shining. Alan.

Relief made Colby's knees weak for a moment. He grabbed the top rail of the corral fence, just standing there, watching Alan drive back into his life.

Those blue-sky eyes stared at him, the shock of blond hair sticking out from under the cap and scarred jaw familiar as breathing. When Alan pulled into the turnaround next to the barn and killed the engine, Colby walked over to the driver's side door, needing to see Alan up close. To touch.

"Tell me it's cool to come home, man. I cain't drive no more, and I need you like breathing."

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WHERE THE MEN ARE MEN by Julia Talbot

WHERE THE MEN ARE MEN by Julia Talbot

Skeet might not be the brightest lightning bug in the swarm, but he knows enough to know he wants Dan. Dan thinks he’s too old for Skeet, but he’s about to find out different. Will their affair last more than just the summer and survive the llamas?

Story also appears in the RODE HARD ANTHOLOGY.

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~Excerpt~

"Are those sheep? Shit, those are the biggest sheep I ever did see." Tanned and long and lean, Skeet Nasum was the prettiest thing Don Jancey had ever seen, even if those pretty green eyes were staring at a small bunch of alpacas like he'd never seen nor heard of them before.

Beautiful, but maybe damned stupid.

"Alpacas, you idiot." Don whacked Skeet with his hat. "They're cousins to llamas."

"Tell me we ain't riding herd on llamas, buddy."

"Of course not. We're playing cowboy to a herd of Charolais and mixed cattle. The alpacas keep coyotes away."

"No shit?"

This was Don's third summer in Colorado, up from Texas to get where the cool nights and good pay were worth the drive. It was only Skeet's first trip, though, and he had a lot to learn.

"No shit. They're better than a dog."

"Huh. Well, as long as they ain't sheep. I don't figure to go all Brokeback Mountain on this one."

Don gave Skeet a sideways glare. "What are you, a rodeo clown now? That's the oldest joke ever, and still bad at that." Especially since Don knew who Skeet had been sleeping with back down in Chappell Hill, and how it had played out that Skeet was in Colorado for the summer because of it.

Skeet had the grace to flush and duck his head. "Sorry, man. Just an automatic reaction."

"Yeah, well, you know it's bullshit to use it on me." He was out with Skeet, because he felt bad for the kid when he got canned for messing around at the ranch. Wasn't something Don advertised, but he felt like Skeet needed a role model, maybe. Oh, hell, he probably just needed to admit that he liked beautiful and didn't mind a little dumb.

"I'm not stupid."

Donnie's head snapped up, his gaze meeting Skeet's. "I never said you was."

"No, you just roll your eyes at me and mumble under your breath."

"I do not mumble." He did roll his eyes. His momma used to say she would pick them up and roll them back if he wasn't careful.

"Liar." Skeet nodded. "Lacey will like the exercise. Where are we moving the herd?"

"Up, I reckon." They had maps and shit. Directions. This was a new summering place to Don. "Summer pasture."

"'kay. Sounds fun."

"Lord, only you would think so." There he went, lying again. Don loved playing old time cowboy, loved the fresh air and simple food and camaraderie of hard-working men.

"Yeah, well..." Skeet shrugged and pulled the brim of his straw hat down. "I'll get Lacey saddled up and ready."

"Hey." Don grabbed Skeet's arm, feeling hard muscle under his palm and fingers. "This is gonna be fun, okay? I'm not raggin' you. Promise."

"I just appreciate the work, man."

"Me, too." He grinned hugely. "Old man Yothers has been good to me over the years."

"Fucking A." Skeet headed off, giving him a view of that tiny heinie. He stared for a lingering moment, his cock giving a nice, hard twitch in his jeans. Lord, this was gonna be a long summer.

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DREAM DICE by Julia Talbot

DREAM DICE by by Julia Talbot


When Thayer buys a new set of gaming dice at Comic-Con, he has no idea they come with magic attached to them, or that they’ll transport him to a land where he’s a healer of the sexual kind.

Barbarian Erlich needs just that kind of magick to pass some important trials, so he turns to Thayer for help. Magick never comes without a price, though.

Can Thayer and Erlich pay what they owe and survive?

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~Excerpt~

“Those are your dream dice, and you know it.” The guy behind the table looked like a pirate: plumed hat, half cape, high boots. Thayer looked from him to the amazing bag of dice he held. They came in a black velvet bag, simple and unadorned, but of good quality. The dice needed no fancy packaging. They glowed under the harsh lights of the convention center, all turquoise and lapis, chrysoprase and malachite. The colors spoke of real semi-precious stones, not acrylic, the numbers etched in gold. There were four D10, or ten-sided dice, two D6, which looked like regular craps dice, and once each of a four-sided die and a twelve-sided one.

“They are lovely.” Thayer needed more dice like he needed a hole in the head. Still, while they might not qualify as dream dice, the set called to him, making him want to touch them where they spread across the felt rolling board. “How much?”

“One-fifty.” When Thayer turned away, the pirate guy caught his arm. “But for a serious collector like you I’ll go eighty.”

“Eighty?” That was a good deal. The last gem set he’d seen with the kind of rocks here had retailed for one thirty five.

“Yes. Just for you. Show special.”

“Do you take cards?” He had enough cash, but he really wanted to have enough for the food vendors.

“I do.” The guy whipped out a phone with a card reader attached.

“I’ll take them.” He pulled out his wallet, not at all sure why he thought this was a good idea. The vendor wasn’t even hard-selling. He didn’t need dice. These tugged at him, though, deep in his gut, making him want them.

He took the bag when the card went through, putting it in his pocket so he could feel the weight of them, the way they warmed from being close to his skin. He waved at the pirate dude and wandered on, but the rest of the booths didn’t interest him. The more costumed and corseted cosplayers he saw, the more he simply wanted to take his new dice home and roll up a character. That was the true test of new dice, what kind of cool cleric they would come up with.

Thayer did stop by the food booths and get a couple of deep-fried goodies: a corn dog, curly fries and a Snickers bar dipped in batter and cooked golden brown. After inhaling those, he headed home, ready to settle in for the night. He could always go back to the con tomorrow. He’d bought a weekend pass.

“Kenji?” His roommate should be out for the evening, but it never hurt to check. Kenji the Horndog had guys over all day and all night sometimes. Too bad Thayer didn’t have that kind of luck with men. Helped that Kenji looked like an anime character, he guessed.

No one answered, but Thayer checked Kenji’s room, anyway. The only thing he saw was an explosive mess of clothes and tangled sheets. No lean, tanned surfer, no big muscled jocks of the type said surfer liked to bring home.

Ace.

He tossed a pizza in the oven because he was still hungry, grabbed his character sheets and his tablet, so he could write up his adventure, and lit some sage and pine candles. He liked candles, but compromised with Kenji on a more manly scent. Shit, why he did, he had no idea. Kenji could identify vanilla room spray from three different retailers, including Pier One and Bed Bath & Beyond. The man was such a queen, deep down. He was a good roommate, though, and had been a great surrogate for Thayer’s folks, lost three years ago to a boating accident.

Settling cross-legged in front of the coffee table, he got his pencils lined up, the regular graphite for fixed attributes, the colored pencils for anything he might experience up in. XP was vital to the kind of cleric he liked to play.

He gave the dice a couple of rolls across his velvet tablecloth. Yes. Those were some good numbers. Okay. A cleric. Not a Paladin this time. Thayer didn’t want to have to do that whole legal and righteous thing. Not a monk, either. That got boring. Ooh, maybe someone who healed with sex magick, since he was just running this one for himself. Dude, maybe he should write this up for the Nifty archive instead of trying to sell it to a gaming publisher.

For some reason, he ended up with physical characteristics very close to his own: black hair, gray eyes, five-nine-ish and not too buff. Okay, skinny. From there he let the dice give him exceptional charisma, dexterity and magical ability. He had good stamina, too, if no strength and not much wisdom. He never allowed himself less than average intelligence, though. Too many characters wound up dead from being beautiful but stupid.

When he had a complete character, one with major traits and minor psychoses, with attributes and skills aplenty, Thayer sat back and smiled, really pleased with how the dice performed. They had warmed to his hands, the numbers seeming to glow brighter every time he touched them. He reached out to stroke them, watching his fingers come in contact with each stone. “You just needed love, didn’t you?”

The gold imprints in the dice flashed bright, almost like lightning, the room starting to spin. Thayer gasped, his body shaking with the impact of the shock wave that seemed to come from the stones, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He got out one sharp cry before he slumped over to one side, the whole room going dark.

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ICE by Julia Talbot

ICE by Julia Talbot

Elemental Ops

Ice won't let his team at Elemental Ops go with him on what's supposed to be a suicide mission to uncover a new biological weapon. Imagine his surprise when the biggest danger he finds himself in is being bonded to a baby dragon, and falling in love with said dragon's Guardian, Keon. Keon isn't worried about things like guns and governments. He has a whole host of problems in all shapes and colors. When Ice accidentally bonds with one of his baby dragons, Keon is more worried about getting the man to come in from the cold and find a place in their bizarre little family. Can these two find common ground, and keep the dragons safe?

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Ice (Elemental Ops)
Julia Talbot
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Julia Talbot

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

Ice stared down the barrel of his rifle, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He had a bad feeling about this mission. Like a really bad one. So bad that he'd left the team behind to a man. Jacques and Gig had protested, but he'd snarled at them just like he'd been snarling since Spider had officially left the group, sniffing after a couple of shifters who seemed to draw him like a moth to the flame.

Although, Spider had been their fire elemental, and it was tough for him to be ice without fire.

The target on this mission was a son of a bitch who was hoarding weaponry of the unusual kind and was classified as Armed and Talented. It had taken Ice a month just to find his hideout. It was a fortress, really, a huge thing built into the side of a mountain. The terrain made recon difficult, all shale and other craggy rock deposits, and the whole place smelled like brimstone, the occasional glow of a fiery light tempting Ice to come in out of the cold. His feet were like blocks of frozen snow, even with toe warmers in his boots.

Ice wasn't sure if the guy had demons in there or maybe just a hole into Hell.

That would be interesting...

Whatever it was, the directive had been serious enough about the danger that he'd gone Oscar Mike in the middle of the night, leaving his team behind while they slept. They could go on without him, but he needed them to be safe.

A truck rumbled up toward the place, shocks rattling and shaking over the rough road. Whoever was driving had to be losing his fucking mind. Ice would have left the damned truck and hoofed it in. Lord.

A guy got out when the truck parked -- someone who looked oddly familiar, although he couldn't place the face -- carrying a... pet crate? What the fuck?

This was so not a dog rescue or anything. This was a weapons stockpile. Right?

He stared, relaxing his eyes so the scope didn't flatten out his vision.

A lean, mostly naked man with the wildest mass of jet-black hair he'd ever seen came out of the building, peered into the crate. The two men began talking -- maybe negotiating? Hell, this was the most action he'd experienced since he'd been on point. He focused on the truck driver for now, trying to place the man.

The truck driver pulled a piece, drew a bead on the guy, who snorted and stared at the man like he was an idiot, not an ounce of fear on the hawk-like face.

Okay, that was interesting. Ice focused on the other guy for a moment. That fearless bastard stirred something like admiration in him. That mostly naked body stirred something a little farther south.

The pistol was grabbed, tossed away, then the pet carrier was snatched up and the man headed inside. The driver took a step forward and stopped suddenly, eyes going wide before he scrambled for the truck. The truck bounced twice as hard going out, the driver damned near wiping out at the turn that took him out of range of the rifle's sight. The niggling idea that he knew who the driver was made him wish he had Gig, his tech guy, to run facial rec.

The huge door began to swing shut, slowly, proving how heavy it was. He couldn't get a look at what lay inside, either, which meant more damned recon. He'd have to get up close and personal, which started with freezing up those cameras he could see.

Something was in there, something big, and he was going to have to figure out how to get in. This was not just a search and destroy, it was information gathering on the weapons that had everyone running so fucking scared, including the guy who had just made a drop of some kind of animal.

Whatever the fuck they were. They were obviously biologicals. That was always a goddamn disaster. Living things were uncontrollable as fuck. Look at dudes who made movies with dogs, and that was no comparison to what biologicals could do in wartime. He'd seen this werewolf once who ripped the throat out of two soldiers before turning on his supposed handler, the guy's silver-tipped Taser doing no damned good in the bloodlust.

Mr. Lean and Hairy appeared again, looking up at the sky, muttering to himself, giving Ice a look at a tiny, fine ass. Sweet. At least the scenery would be good.

Something shot across the sky, something akin to a comet. Weird. He would have to check his comms to see if anything was expected in the way of meteor showers. He hadn't seen anything on the recon reports, but intel wasn't always one hundred percent.

The man waved to the sky, grinning up like an idiot, then turned back and hurried inside.

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BEAR FACTS by Julia Talbot

BEAR FACTS by Julia Talbot

Mixed Breeds Book Two

Jeanette has no interest in all the political wrangling her werewolf pack is doing these days, so she strikes out on her own. She thinks she's escaping any kind of danger, but being alone has its scary moments, too, like when she injures herself on a remote jog.

Werekitty Neale is happy to come to the rescue, and even happier to bring this sexy lady home to his werebear mate, Zane. The two boys think Jeanette is just what they need to complete their happy family, but is Jeanette willing to take a chance and lose her newfound independence?

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Mixed Breeds: Bear Facts
Julia Talbot
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2013 Julia Talbot

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

"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Ralphy." Jeanette waved a finger under the big wolf's nose, not at all fazed by his ugly snarl. "You are not the alpha of me."

"I am one of the pack enforcers, woman! There are too many hunters in town. You can't just go off and run on your own. You need to stay with the pack, do your damned work."

"I am going jogging in the park, not running under the full moon. Asshole." She'd had it with the hyper-vigilant, testosterone-riddled attitude the pack had since Marin, the old alpha, had died, and no one had been chosen to replace him yet. In fact, she was pretty sure she was going to go lone wolf here soon. She could do her work from anywhere, since she designed websites. Thank goddess for the internet.

Maybe she would go rogue right now if Ralph didn't get out of her face. "When I'm alpha I'm going to lock your ass in the closet until you learn your place!" he shouted, and damned if he didn't put a hand to the center of her chest and shove.

She didn't think; she slapped him so hard her hand throbbed, and they stared as if they hadn't known one another since they were pups, like they were seeing each other for the first time. "You ever touch me like that again, and I will kill you." She would, even if she had to do it in his sleep.

Jeanette turned on her heel and walked away, grabbing her gym bag with her running shoes and shorts and all in it. She always thought things out better when she was jogging. It was time to figure out what she was going to do while the new alpha was chosen. Or maybe permanently. Hunters all over town or no, she had no desire to hang out with such hidebound, controlling assholes.

A girl had to think of her future, after all.

Time to run.

* * *

Her feet pounded on the trail, the bass from the iPod thrumming in the base of her skull. She was heading into mile three and feeling good. Damned good.

Jeanette loved this part of the state -- Boulder close enough to visit, Denver close enough to work in, and the fucking pack far enough away to leave her alone. It was going to be fall soon and then her running would have to move inside to the gym track. Right now, she could smell the outdoors, all the trees and animals, the feel of actual earth under her feet.

She pushed deeper, harder, keeping up with the rhythm of the music, telling herself that it was totally good, to run alone. Be alone. All the time. Even if she was lonely. All the time. Damned macho pack assholes, making her take her dignity and leave them.

She turned a hairpin curve in the path and shrieked when the earth slid out from under her feet, gravel sliding, sending her slipping down the slope. One of her feet smacked into a rock and turned, rolling hard with a snap that she actually heard a split second before the jolt of pain shot up her leg. "Fuck!"

When she came to a stop, her head pointed downhill, her broken whatever pointed up, and she lay like a turtle on her back, the world slowing from a sickening spin. She sucked in a sobbing breath, telling herself she was not going to cry. Not. She had her phone, she had a bottle of water. The trail wasn't busy, but it wasn't deserted, either. Help wasn't beyond reach.

"Holy shit, are you okay?"

Oh. Unless she was hallucinating the pretty blond guy appearing over the ridge, help was right here.

"No. God, no. I need help." She nodded, reaching out instinctively.

"I saw you disappear right off the trail." The man came pelting over, his trail runners slamming on the dirt. "Crap. I think you broke your ankle." He helped her right herself, her leg screaming the whole time.

"Uh-huh." She was covered in a cold sweat, shaking, nausea in her throat.

"Your phone getting any signal? Mine is dead. I can get you back to my Bronco, but we might want to call 911."

"I don't... I'm not interested in hospitals, man." Doctors didn't love people like her. Well, half-people, half wolf people like her.

He tilted his head, nose working hard. "Oh, man. I was running hard and so freaked I didn't notice 'til now... How fast do you heal?"

"Fast enough to only have to take the rest of the week off work." She tilted her head, sniffing. Oh, not one of her kind, but pretty, and not wholly human himself.

"Well, that's cool, I guess. I have to lick things a lot more..." His cheeks went red-hot, and he grinned at her. "Didn't mean that quite like it sounded. Here, grab my neck."

Jeanette couldn't help her chuckle, but she did reach up, arms wrapping around his neck. "There's something to be said for licking."

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FEVER FOR THREE by Julia Talbot

FEVER FOR THREE by Julia Talbot

When Cheri moves to Lobo Basin, all she wants is a quiet place to teach, where she doesn’t have to worry about the perils of the big city. She’s never had a lot of luck in love, so it’s a complete surprise when not one, but two beautiful men show their interest.
 

Cowboy Josh and handyman Paulo come from opposite sides of the werewolf pack that rules the town, and they had a falling out years ago over the firestorm of lust that burns between them. When they both decide they want the new girl in town, the competition between them heats up—and so, finally, does their sexual connection.

Cheri doesn’t know what to do with the bickering men or with the bitey little kids in her class at school. Is she a slut for wanting both Josh and Paulo? The men are going to have to work together to win their mate and help her understand her nature—both werewolf and sexual.

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By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: FEVER FOR THREE

Copyright © JULIA TALBOT, 2012

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

 

Josh stared with awe at the tiny little car that pulled up next to his truck. There was no way that thing had made it to Lobo Basin from anywhere in Texas. It had to have ridden on a flatbed or something. Seriously, it was like a wind-up toy. At least it had a Dodge emblem on it. That meant it was solidly built, but sheesh…

 

The lady who stepped out of the car shouldn’t even be a blip on his radar. She wore a pair of leggings under a man’s button-down shirt that had to be at least fifty sizes too big, horn-rimmed glasses and a pair of ugly flats. The way her hair was pulled back, it looked as if it was a dull, mousy brown.

 

So why every corpuscle in him stood up and took notice, Josh couldn’t say. Still, even though he’d just hopped in his truck to drive away, he got out and headed back into the store.

 

She was chewing her bottom lip, looking at the push-button cappuccino machine with a vaguely concerned look on her face.

 

Damn. Josh was pretty sure he couldn’t help with that and he wanted to help her in a pretty urgent way. Too bad she wasn’t looking at personal massagers. He stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered over.

 

“I bet Dolly could fix you up with a coffee. Or there’s the diner. I could walk you over.”

 

“Pardon me?” Bright green eyes flashed up at him, too pretty to hide behind those glasses. Oh damn. He could snap her up. Eat her. Like a rabbit. His cock started to press against his zipper.

 

“Coffee. I like coffee. You obviously like coffee. We could go have some. Together.”

 

“Thank you, but I don’t think so.” She turned her back on him, dismissing him, just like that.

 

He almost took a step back, surprise making him a little stupid. He probably wasn’t all that and a bag of chips but most women at least showed interest in his lanky, blond good looks. He tipped his cowboy hat back, staring. “Is it just me or are you always this rude, honey? I mean, it’s coffee. I didn’t ask if you want to knock boots.”

 

He got another one of those looks, wide eyed and bright. “Excuse me?”

 

“Well, you’re new in town and I was just bein’ friendly. No need to get snotty.”

 

“Snotty.” One eyebrow shot up. “Good Lord and butter, I just need a couple of groceries, not to get harassed and called names. Back off.”

 

Josh drew himself up, already mentally cursing his cowboy pride. Still, he opened his mouth right up and said it anyway. “Too bad, honey. You could use some loosening up. You’ve got a stick up your ass a mile long.”

 

“Tell me you don’t have any children.”

 

The words surprised the living fuck out of him. Josh blinked. “Not yet. Why?”

 

“Because I’d hate to believe that I’d have to teach children raised with such atrocious manners.” She turned tail and headed right up to Minnie at the cash register, the old bitch grinning at him like the dog she was.

 

Shit. Josh didn’t know whether to laugh or spit on the floor. In the end, he decided to laugh before grabbing a cup and hitting up the coffee machine, getting it to spit out a fancy cappuccino. He made it to the register before the little gal was done, sliding it down in front of her.

 

“Truce? I’m Josh Bolton. I’m sorry if I was rude.”

 

“Cheri. Cheri McBride.” Those eyes met his again and he felt that look deep in his balls.

 

“Nice to meet you.” He was about to ask her about being the new schoolteacher when Cheri turned to Minnie.

 

“Is there an electrician you can recommend?” Cheri asked.

 

“They put you in the old Lupin house, hmm? Paulo, honey. He’s the best. Number’s right there on the board.” Minnie’s eyes met his, challenging. Everyone knew about him and that fucking bastard, Paulo, which was embarrassing enough. To have Minnie give the new lady that asshat’s number, right there in front of him…

 

“You ought to get you someone in from Lordsburg.” When Cheri glanced at him, Josh shrugged.

“Paulo’s only a handyman.”

 

Minnie growled, so low only Josh heard it. “He’s a journeyman electrician and plumber. He’ll do fine.”

 

“Excellent. I just need to know my baby laptop won’t explode. It has a bunch of software for the children.”

 

“What went on the fritz?” Minnie ignored him completely but that was okay with Josh.

 

That way he could move close enough to scent her. Her shampoo had cinnamon in it. Cinnamon and honey.

 

“The…” She shivered, and he swore he could see her nipples draw up. “The plug in the kitchen. I need everything checked out.”

 

“Well, you call Paulo. You gonna buy anything else, Josh, or are you just going to ogle the poor young lady?”

 

Josh snapped out of his daze, his eyes rising from Cheri’s chest. “I’m good. I-If you don’t mind, Miss Cheri, I might stop by. There’s been rattlesnakes in that house before.”

 

“Rattlesnakes?” Her eyes went wide.

 

“Nonsense. Have Paulo spread salt around, that’ll fix them.”

 

He was going to have to growl. He did actually growl, subvocalizing enough for Minnie to back off a foot or so. “I’ll drop by,” he repeated. “Soon. Enjoy your coffee.”

 

There was no way he was letting Paulo have this one.

 

No way in hell.

 

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CEREUS: BUILDING by BA Tortuga

CEREUS: BUILDING with stories by BA Tortuga, Julia Talbot and Sean Michael

What happens when a besieged and rather small dragon comes to a vampire and says, "I need your help." Or when that vampire comes to a werewolf and says, "I have a job for you." The vampire goes and builds a resort for things that go bump in the night, of course. Riding the wave of Julia Talbot's Bloodrose series, the multi-author Cereus: Building features paranormal romance from three of Torquere Press' most-loved authors. The stories move from vampire Jonny's city club to a new luxury getaway in the woods of the Pacific Northwest, where pleasure and pain are the name of the game.

Julia Talbot's It's Elemental features construction contractor Chayton, a werewolf who thinks demon decorator Kenny is a little fussy, and a lot hot. They argue about everything from feng shui to sex. Will they be able to resolve their differences?

The Third Course, by BA Tortuga, tells the story of Marco and Stephan, werecats, brothers, and chefs who meet their match in head-bartender Faelan, who just happens to be a growly, sexy Top.

Finally, Sean Michael's Smoke and Gold follows the head dominant of the club, Zee, who's dealing with trying to get his playrooms just so, and trying to figure out maddening dragon Daniel at the same time. Who can resist loving a dragon?

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Sample
"I need your help, friend." Daniel Underhill looked at Jonny, eyes glowing gold through webcam, the glow sort of pixillating a bit, making things a bit odd, even for Daniel.

Really, how much more odd did it get than being a dragon? Daniel was certainly the only one Jonny had ever met.

"Well, you know you need only ask." Jonny settled more comfortably in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his chest. He sat behind his desk at the club Bloodrose, marveling at things like Skype, which certainly hadn’t existed when he’d become a vampire all those centuries ago.

Daniel cleared his throat, bringing Jonny’s attention back to the screen.

"You know that I have...particular issues, yes?"

It took Jonny a moment to suss out what the man might mean, but he hit upon it. Daniel, although quite astonishing in his true form, was reportedly quite...undersized. Petite. Wee. Possibly even tiny, for a dragon. It caused problems on occasion. "Indeed."

"Well, I've been here a long time, eons, and no one has bothered me, but my kind doesn't like population and our territories are getting smaller every decade."

"Isn't that the way it is for everyone?" The wolves were all bitching about it as well, about how there was nowhere to run, and how while they loved the club, it was too urban for them.

"Yes, but... I can't protect my home, not from my own kind."

"I take it you have an idea." Dragons were all about ideas. Not so much practicalities, though they were exceptional at making money. Daniel had a particular talent for finding magical objects and selling them.

"Of course I do." Daniel's smile was suddenly young and happy. "You're going to build a kinky little getaway here rather like your club, and let me have a huge, amazing cabin on the edge of the resort. You'll make money. I'll make money. Everyone will avoid the mountain because there will be human activity. It's perfect."

Jonny pondered that. "You're in the Cascades, yeah?"

Daniel nodded. "Six hundred acres ready to build on. You front the money for the development and guarantee me my house, and you do as you will."

"Hmm. I would like to keep a good bit as a preserve. We can stock with game if there's not enough..." Wouldn't the 'weres love a safe place to hunt?

"It's virgin land. Perfect." Daniel smiled. "Safe, except from my kind."

And having a busy presence would stop that quickly, wouldn't it? Dragons were silly creatures.

"I like it. We could go very green, very earth friendly. Go underground for some of the vampire quarters as long as it wasn't near your den." Daniel could be touchy about that den of his.

Daniel nodded. "My den is a natural cave. If you look, you'll find others. Humans tend to avoid the area." He got a wicked little smile. "Crossing my borders uninvited causes its own issues."

"Don't I know it?" Jonny had never been to Daniel's land, but there had been that poor courier once... The dangers of dealing in magical objects. Even small dragons had big flames.

Daniel shrugged, licked his lips. "Occupational hazard."

"Indeed. I can send some people to do an initial survey, talk to selected backers."

"Just let me know to expect them." Long, golden hair was shoved back, Daniel settling. "So, now that the business part is done, let me tell you about this amazing spell book I had sent from Romania. I either made a stick into a fire snake or a burning stick into a dead snake. The accent's tough to pull off."

"You're not Romanian." Neither was Jonny, thank goodness. A vamp from Romania was trite, at best.

"No, but I'm not Mexican either, and I managed to unearth that Mayan demi-god for you once, didn't I?"


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