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Showing posts with label Capture Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Capture Fantasy. Show all posts

Thursday, June 25, 2026

Teaser: The Dark One by Angela Knight @RABTBookTours




BDSM Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: June 26, 2026

 


Kaska means to make Matia the centerpiece in an erotic ritual to honor his Dark god.

Matia of Ruza is one of the legendary Battlemaids -- a woman warrior who has taken an oath of celibacy in service of the Maid of Light. When mercenary Kaska of Artane helps Matia defeat a gang of brigands, the two become partners.

Matia finds her oath of celibacy tested by her handsome Shieldmate’s erotic appeal. But Kaska means to do more than test her. He worships the Dark One, and he wants to make Matia the centerpiece in a sizzling erotic ritual in honor of his god.

But first, he must defeat her in combat -- and win her heart.




EXCERPT

 

Kaska of Artane slowed his stallion to an easy amble. Prince Britar's fortress lay a full day away, and he'd ridden poor Warbringer hard this past month. He knew the Prince awaited the intelligence he'd gathered as a spy in neighboring Trovan but laming his horse would serve no purpose.

Particularly with war on the horizon.

Besides, the last time Kaska had come this way, he'd had to battle the local brigands. Two fell to his blade before the rest fled, but that left five. And they might be in the mood for revenge. I don't care to ride headlong into an ambush.

"Whoreson bastards!" A woman's roar of fury brought Kaska's head up. He drew Warbringer to a prancing halt.

Swords clashed, interspaced with male taunts and laughter. The laughter had a distinctly ugly note. The woman swore again, an edge of grim desperation in her voice.

The thieves had found a new victim.

Kaska set his heels to Warbringer's flanks and thundered up the road toward the sound. Rounding the bend, he saw five men fighting a lone female traveler they'd managed to unhorse. He recognized the dented, rusted armor and unshaven faces; it was indeed the same band of thieves.

But their victim was no common woman. Her armor and sword marked her as a follower of the Maid of Light -- a female warrior. She was tall for a woman, with a lithe, muscular build and pretty breasts barely contained by her intricately embossed breastplate. Long black hair swirled around her face as she spun and hacked at her tormentors with a slim sword designed for a woman's hand.

One of the brigands already lay dead at her feet, but four others remained, odds too great even for one of the legendary Battlemaids.

A grin of sheer, savage joy spread across Kaska's face. With a howl, he drew the blade sheathed across his back and kicked Warbringer into a thundering charge.

The nearest of the brigands whirled too late. Kaska took his head with a single stroke.

Another of the men jumped at him, hacking for his thigh with an axe, but Kaska spun Warbringer aside and thrust his blade into the thief's chest. The man tumbled off the lethal point, gurgling out his life.

Meanwhile, the third brigand fell to the Battlemaid's sword. His head tumbled from his shoulders.

The fourth man looked from Kaska to the thieves' would-be victim, calculated the odds, and took to his heels.

Kaska snatched a dagger from his thigh sheath and hurled it at the coward with an expert flip of his wrist. The man went down, the blade buried to the hilt between his shoulder blades.

Scarcely breathing hard, Kaska turned to the maid. "Are you well?"

"Well enough." She studied him, her dark eyes level. There was a sharp and elegant beauty to her face, with its broad, high cheekbones and square little chin. Her lush mouth could inspire a monk to carnal fantasies.

"My thanks, warrior," she said at last in a low, husky voice, pushing the long black hair out of her face. "There were too many of them for me to best alone." She considered him, appraising the width of his chest and the strength of his sword arm. Female appreciation lit her gaze, mixed with a warrior's caution.

She had reason for that caution, for he meant to challenge her himself. He worshiped the Dark One, and his god relished nothing as much as the moans of a defeated Battlemaid.

Imagining the tight grip of her virgin ass, Kaska felt his cock swell behind his loincloth.

Give her time to rest, and then…

Of course, the maid might well kill him instead, but looking at her long legs and full, sweet breasts, Kaska thought it a chance well worth taking.

But as he opened his mouth to warn her of his intent, all color left the Battlemaid's face. Her eyes rolled up. Kaska threw himself from Warbringer's back as she collapsed in a heap.

Two long strides carried him to the maid's side. Dropping to one knee on the dusty road, Kaska began an anxious examination. He found no wounds on the front of her body, so he rolled her onto her back.

The maid groaned and lifted her head. "Wha -?"

"Seems one of your cur attackers landed a blow after all," he told her grimly. "There's a stab wound in your back just under your backplate, over your left hip."

"Aye," she said, letting her head fall. "One of them had a dagger."

"'Tis not deep, but it bleeds still," Kaska said. "I can treat it, if you permit."

"Aye," the maid said, breathing now in shallow pants. "My thanks."

Kaska nodded and rose to retrieve his pack of battlefield medicines from Warbringer. Well, he thought as he walked to his horse, I won't be challenging her any time soon. Not with that wound.

Later, perhaps. When he'd examined her, he'd noticed she had a truly delicious ass.

He wanted it.

 

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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Monday, May 25, 2026

Teaser: Rowan’s Lovers by Mikala Ash @ash_mikala @RABTBookTours



Action Adventure Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: May 29, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press



Rowan has a bounty on her head. Will her lovers get to her before a bounty hunter can collect the reward?

 

Rebellious slave Rowan is heading for the walled city of Iseky to find her lovers Ky and Chin Lau. She also need to discover who wiped her memories and why. Soldier of fortune Kepel Dev is forced to hunt her by any means necessary.

When Ky rushes to Iseky to try to find Rowan, he meets the flirtatious Hetta along the way. Meanwhile Chin Lau has escaped the Skolls and their new leader, Tamin Gutra, but on his way to find Rowan he falls into the hands of cannibals.

Little do they know slave master Ganwe din Kopese holds the key to all their futures.

 



EXCERPT

 

Ganwe din Kopese, known variously as Gan or Kop or Din the Slave Master, surfaced from a pleasant dream soon after sunrise. He’d been led into the desert by a troupe of naked slaves to an idyllic oasis where they frolicked in the sparkling water, the sun gleaming off their flawless skin. Under a swaying palm, strenuous digging uncovered a huge wooden chest of great antiquity. They’d opened it, lifting the creaking lid to expose a veritable king’s ransom. Excitedly they scooped up the glistening gems -- diamonds, rubies, sapphires -- and gaily tossed them into the air so they fell upon his head like the gentlest of summer rain.

Ganwe din Kopese awoke not only with a contented smile, but also a mighty erection. He surveyed the prominent tent in the silk sheet and grunted in self-admiration. “Seesee!” he bellowed.

A moment later his wife, third and youngest bearer of that majestic title, ran full tilt into his room, the folds of her transparent nightdress flowing about her petite body like a desert whirlwind.

“See to that, will you,” he said casually.

Seesee eagerly lifted the sheet, exposing his firm muscular body, and dove in. For a few moments he luxuriated in her warm, wet mouth. “Litu,” he then shouted. “I’m starving!”

From somewhere below -- the kitchen he hoped -- came an unintelligible reply from the second bearer of that esteemed title of wife. Gan imagined she was instructing the slaves in the preparation of some delicacy or other. Litu, he knew, kept a diligent eye on the latest culinary fashions shed like confetti by their betters up north. In the adjoining room a baby wailed, and was soon comforted by Didoy, the first bearer of the revered title of wife, who hummed a soothing rhyme from her childhood.

The house of Kopese had awakened.

Gan lay back, enjoying Seesee’s skills, noting that her technique had improved since Didoy’s lesson in the Quad: the art of pleasing a man with lips, tongue, throat, and fingers. She had finally mastered the timing of the twist of the shaft as she withdrew her mouth from his swollen organ before plunging downward so that her dainty nose was bent against his hard, muscular stomach. She held there for a count of five before slowly withdrawing. As she drew her mouth away, she wrapped her dainty fingers around his shaft to apply the screwing action that gave him an inordinate amount of pleasure. He sighed with satisfaction as the dream of buried jewels faded like a summer mist.

Litu, wearing a flimsy robe shaded in jade, entered with a tray. The smell of freshly baked bread, melting ocyx butter, strips of seasoned meat, and her sweet perfume caressed his nostrils. Balancing the tray expertly on one hand, she used the other to put an extra pillow under Gan’s raised head and shoulders. Then she swept off the sheet, positioned the tray on his flat belly. Seesee adjusted her position so she could tongue his ball sac while Litu knelt beside him to take on the shaft and head duties while he ate.

Gan watched appreciatively as his second wife opened her small, bow-shaped mouth as wide as she could to take in the thick head of his cock. He thought of it as the dome of a massive mushroom, and was secretly pleased that it posed a constant challenge to Litu, who eagerly strove to fit it all in. He took a generous bite of his bread, sending ocyx butter dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He almost bit his tongue when Seesee suddenly sucked one of his balls deep into her mouth.

“Easy, Seesee. Easy.”

“My apologies, husband,” she slurred after popping the delicate egg from between her generous lips. A shiny thread of saliva hung between her mouth and his tight scrotum, and with a giggle she slurped it up as she resumed her wifely duty.

Gan smiled contentedly. What a perfect household I have built, he thought. Three perfect gems, for that was how he often thought of his wives, to cater to my every urge.

He finished his breakfast with a cup of warm wine flavoured with huj, an expensive spice he imported from the Northern Reach. The slaves from that region carried the bales of the crushed seeds on their heads as they trudged their way to the Auction House.

That reminded him of this day’s tasks: the bidding for docile but intelligent slaves who could be taught. The House of Kopese was known across the world for the quality of his bedroom and household slaves. “Only the best from Kopese,” was his watchword, and all the prestigious houses of the city came to him. He excelled in teaching the art of pleasing men and women of refinement, and his slaves were keenly sought after, garnering top prices.

“Enough, Seesee, Litu. Enough, I say. I need all my stamina today.” He laughed at his unintended rhyme.

His two wives, however, pouted. Though they knew the demands of his day and evening, they didn’t like being denied their morning coupling.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not the end of the world.”

“It is,” Seesee said. “It’s been a whole week.”

“Has it?”

“You know it has. My cunny is aching. It’s wet all the time.” She screwed up her face. “You don’t love me as much as Litu.”

“Now, don’t be like that. I love you all the same. Didoy, Litu, and Seesee. All the same.”

“But you’ve had Litu three times in the last four nights.”

“I wish you wouldn’t keep count,” Litu said. “It’s not my fault --”

“Litu. Stop it!” Gan snapped. “Just this minute I was congratulating myself on such a harmonious household, and you go and spoil it by bickering.”

“I’m sorry, husband.”

“Now, Seesee. Remind me when I come home that it is your turn. Happy?” She smiled at Litu triumphantly. Shaking his head good-naturedly he chucked his pretty wife under her chin. “Now, is my bath ready?”

“I’d just ordered the heating of the water when you called,” Seesee said.

“Then go. See that it is ready for me.”

She stuck out her tongue at Litu and launched herself off the bed. After she’d skipped from the room, Gan took Litu’s hand and drew her to him for a kiss. She licked the ocyx butter from his chin.

“How old is she? Remind me.”

“Twenty.”

“And how old are you?”

“Two and twenty.”

“Then don’t goad her. Act your age.”

She pouted again.

“Has it really been three times in four nights?”

She nodded, and a sly smile escaped her contrite expression.

“There must be a reason for that,” he said in a questioning voice. “I wonder what the reason could be.”

“Because…”

He silenced her with a kiss. “I love you all the same. Remember that.”

“Yes, husband.”

“Now take this tray to the kitchen, and then go help Didoy with the children.”

“Yes, husband.”

“First, find my robe. It’s a bit chilly this morning. And my slippers. Where are my slippers?”

An hour later, bathed, perfumed, and dressed in his finest, Gan was farewelled by Didoy, who handed him his ebony staff as she did every day.

He kissed her, then stood back in silent admiration of her beauty, and his luck.

“You do this every morning,” she chided.

Her face was colouring in a blush fit for a maiden, not of a wife of ten years with three children and a household to manage. “I stop to thank the gods for the blessing they have bestowed on me. Is that so grievous a crime?”

“Being late will be a very great one if you miss bidding on the best prospects. The High Warden put in an order for six, no less: four cocks and two cunts.”

“Where would I be without you, I wonder.” He kissed her again. “Six, you say? What in the world does he do with them?”

 

About the Author

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.


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Wednesday, January 21, 2026

Teaser: Taken by the Lady of the Lake by Megan Slayer @MeganSlayer @RABTBookTours @changelingpress




Paranormal Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: January 23, 2026



She’s an urban legend. He’s adrift. With a little magic, they’ll discover their fates are entwined.

Amanda Fortune never expected to be left in the lake, but after her murder and subsequent dumping, that’s exactly where she is. She’s become an urban legend, her ghost seen only by a very few. She longs to have a second chance at life, but that’s not possible when you’re dead. Is it?

With the right circumstances, anything is possible.

Sawyer Gibson doesn’t know what he’s meant to do in life. He has abilities to read the Fates, but his talents aren’t needed in the town of Eerie. Everyone here has magic. He’s nothing special. But Aunt Chloe is dying, and she knows more than Sawyer ever thought possible. Amanda is -- was -- her best friend. So Aunt Chloe sends Sawyer on a chase to find Amanda’s killer.

But Amanda’s a myth. A ghost. And ghosts can’t be seen, right?

The moment Sawyer lays eyes on Amanda, he’s smitten. There’s the tiny problem of her being a ghost… but that detail won’t stop Sawyer, even if someone else thinks it will.

 



EXCERPT

 

Amanda wandered the woods along the north end of the lake. She didn’t have much else to do. Campers were around, scattered about the grassy area, and even a few picnickers, but none of them could see her. She hated this existence. She had no one to talk to, no one to spend time with. She missed the simple interaction of being with other people.

But those were the things Claude had taken from her. He’d ruined her life, but he’d also robbed her of her future. She should hate him. Should be burning with the hottest, nuclear anger toward him.

She could be, but why? Would it bring her life back?

No.

She might as well focus on anything else but the past.

Something rustled in the woods and for a moment, she ignored the sound. Everything in the woods made noise. Animals, the wind, water… it all created disturbance. But this one was different. A shiver ran the length of her spine. She hadn’t felt this way since that night.

She ducked behind a tree, knowing she’d never be seen, but wanting a private vantage point to locate the noise.

A hooded figure strode through the trees to the edge of the water.

The shiver increased when the figure leaned over and touched the rippled surface of the lake. She knew that hand and recognized the shark tattoo. Didn’t have to see the rest of the person to know who stood there -- Claude.

She froze, not wanting him to know she could see him. Could he see her? He hadn’t for the last fifty years, but that didn’t matter. He churned her stomach. She clutched the tree bark. The sooner he left, the better.

“She’s dying,” Claude said. “The last one to know what happened is dying. I can’t steal her magic, too, but I can rejoice in her going. My secret went with you to the grave, but she figured some of it out. No one else did. I’d silence her, but I can’t do that. Can’t kill anyone.”

He couldn’t kill this person, but he’d murdered her! What a jerk. Amanda trembled, despite her best efforts to stay still.

“Won’t be long now. She’ll be gone and any last chance of anyone knowing will be gone. The cops didn’t catch me. No one believed I could do it,” Claude said. “They wouldn’t have understood. I needed your magic. I needed to own you. You’d never have used that magic properly, but I could. We were expected to be together because you had to give yourself to me. It always had to end with your magic being mine.”

She wanted to scream. He’d never loved her. Couldn’t. Not when he wanted to destroy her.

“But now it’ll be our secret. You gave me what I needed and you’re where you were always meant to be.” He patted the water. “Always.”

He stood, then adjusted the sweatshirt, keeping his face hidden. He turned away from her vantage point and shuffled back through the woods.

Every cell in her existence screamed to keep away from him, but she followed. What else could he do to her? Kill her a second time? Was that even possible?

She navigated through the trees to the edge of the woods. She hadn’t gone this far in so long. There hadn’t been much reason. Now there was. She had to see where he was going and what in the name of Hera he was doing now that he’d come to haunt her.

Claude stopped at the larger picnic area in the park. A man sat alone at one of the tables and flipped through a book while holding a tablet. The guy seemed completely lost in thought.

Claude, now well over seventy years old but still the bully, shoved the book off the table and laughed. “Stop looking for the Lady of the Lake. She doesn’t exist,” he snapped and barely broke stride.

Amanda stopped short. The Lady of the Lake? There was someone else here? A kindred spirit? She had to find this lady and meet her. Maybe this other woman would know how to get away from the damn water.

“Thanks, ass,” the man said and picked up his book. “Dick.”

She wanted to find the Lady but was also intrigued by this man. She inched closer.

A child, running with a plastic disc turned just as she passed Amanda and her eyes widened. “Momma!”

Amanda paused. She wondered what had spooked the child. She ducked behind a tree and listened for the little girl and parent.

“Momma, I saw the Lady,” the girl said. “Right there.”

She peeked out from her hiding spot long enough to look for the Lady. She didn’t see anyone.

“You’re imagining things,” the mother said. “The Lady of the Lake is a story made up to scare kids.”

Amanda bit back a groan. That was a downer. A fib for kids…

The man looked up from his book. “It’s not a story,” he replied. He closed the book and picked up the tablet. “Actually, it’s considered an urban legend, but there’s fact behind the legend.”

The mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t butt in and scare my kid. She’ll have nightmares because of you.”

“But Mom, I saw her,” the little girl said. “She had dark hair, blue skin and was pretty.”

Amanda ducked back behind the tree. She really had to find this woman. Any company would be better than none.

The woman and her child left the picnic area and when Amanda emerged from her spot, she stepped right into the man’s path. If she’d had breath, it would’ve stopped or clogged in her throat.

He was a beautiful man. Young -- compared to her -- and handsome. With dark hair, dark eyes and a studious look to him. The long-sleeved shirt accentuated his thin frame and the glasses gave him an air of sophistication. He didn’t walk with a swagger, but instead a quiet confidence.

“Oh, my,” she gasped. “Wow.”

“Excuse me?” He met her gaze. “What did you say?”

She froze. He’d heard her? “I’m sorry?”

He cocked his head. “Where are you?”

So he couldn’t see her? Good. She faded into the woods, rushing to the north end, to her safe haven. No one had seen her there in years -- if ever -- and no one would see her now.

“I know I heard you.” The man drifted through the woods. “Please, don’t hide from me.”

She had no choice. No one else had believed she was there and this guy might be looking for the Lady of the Lake. She wasn’t that Lady. She was nobody.

She glanced back and noticed the man. He’d bent over and rested his hands on his knees. He puffed as if he were trying to keep up with her. His bag slid forward and dangled along his side.

“I’ve done the research. I know the story. You’re here. I can feel you.” He stood upright but kept puffing. “She wouldn’t lie to me. She led me here. Told me where I should find you. Told me to find you. I need to do this for her.”

She balled her hands. “Who?” She snapped her mouth shut. She’d wanted to stay hidden, but her curiosity would get her into trouble again.

He sank onto one of the rocks at the edge of the water. “I hear you. Where are you?”

“I can’t show you.”

“Please?”

“No.” If she could have this conversation with him, then something was different about him.

“Why?”

“I don’t know you. Can’t trust you.” It was the truth. Others claimed to be looking for her, but they hadn’t found her. Not the detectives, the amateur sleuths, or anyone else.

“You can,” he said. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, then sighed. “When I was a little boy, my aunt told me about her friend, Amanda. She said her friend was a lovely person and so sweet, but she disappeared. For the rest of her life, my Aunt Chloe wanted to know what happened to her friend.”

“Chloe?” She didn’t venture closer, but the mere mention of the name pricked her curiosity again.

“My mother’s sister. Do you know Chloe? Or Marie, my mother?” he asked. “My mother died five years ago, but Chloe held on. Her magic is fading.”

“No,” she whispered. Chloe had the strongest magic. She should be just fine.

“She told me you liked being here. She said this was your favorite place and you’d spend hours among the trees and around the water, existing in nature. She said you might have even been part woodland nymph because you were here so much. She loved the nights you’d go dancing together, and the days spent talking and mixing spells,” he said. “She said she was never the same after you disappeared.”

“No?” She couldn’t be excited. Not yet. She needed some detail only the true Chloe would know. Something only she could tell this man. “I can’t trust you.”

“I know you can’t.” He sighed again. “Why would you?”

The last man she’d thought she could trust had murdered her.

“She knew about the abuse and that you wanted to get away. She was trying to figure out a plan to get you out of that house without him knowing. To this day, she deals with the guilt of not working fast enough. You deserved better.”

She emerged from behind the tree. “What did he steal from me?” If he knew this, then he’d spoken to Chloe. Only her best friend would remember she never let go of her locket.

“Besides your magic? He stole your necklace,” the man said. “It was your favorite piece of jewelry.”

“Why?” She held onto the tree for stability, even if her legs weren’t holding her up.

“Because it came from your mother and was one of the few things you had to remember her by.”

If she’d been standing on her feet, she would’ve collapsed. “Who are you?”

“Sawyer Gibson.” He stood and held out his hand. “I don’t know where you are, but I hear you and I want to see you. I want to help you.”

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.


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