Book Cover: Scales
Part of the Shifter Rescue series:

Sometimes life gives you something magical - if Drill can rescue a dragon that is.

The Old Tavern Club is a front for a shifter rescue organization. The BDSM club works well in keeping the owner's true purpose secret, but when Pirou makes an unusual rescue, it might just be beyond the club's purview. So he calls in Drill, the owner's brother.

Drill has never even heard of a dragon shifter before, much less seen one, yet that's exactly what the beast in the club's basement looks like. As he works with the dragon, he finds all his instincts insisting that this is the sub he's been looking for.

Can Drill and the dragon rescue a happy ending for themselves?

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artists:

Drill headed into the Old Tavern Club, the subtle BDSM club that was the front for his brother Drongo's shifter rescue operation. Having members who needed discretion and wouldn't blab themselves if they saw weird things made the place legit and let them offer safe places for their rescues to stay. Only a handful of people who worked in the club knew what was really going on.

He smiled at the twink working the coat check tonight. He'd had that ass a time or two. Over his knee, around his cock. As a part of his cover as a club member, of course.


Heading for the bar, he smiled at Fargo. "Whiskey, neat. And tell Pirou I'm here, please." Here as requested, summoned almost, although Pirou would never, ever admit to anything so... toppy.

"You got it. How's life treating you, man?"

"Good. I'm building a third golf course on the far side of the city." He made a good living with the golf courses, and the best part was that they practically ran themselves, giving him a lot of time for his true passion -- helping with the shifters that made their way here.

It was Pirou who answered him, Fargo fading away to the other end of the bar. "Excellent. I'm glad to hear it." There were heavy lines of worry on Pirou's face and they looked totally out of place.

The slinky kitty worked hard, but Drill knew he loved his job, was happiest working at it, helping people.

Reaching out, he touched Pirou's cheek. "So why did you call me down here?"

"I need help." Pirou was usually far more loquacious than that.

"I figured that much out, sweet kitty. I'll be needing more details." In the end, though, he imagined he'd help Pirou, just because it was Pirou.

"Come walk with me?"

Oh, it must be bad. He picked up the whiskey Fargo had brought and downed it. "Okay, lead on."

Pirou took his hand, fingers sliding on his, touching and playing.

He brought their hands to his mouth, kissing Pirou's knuckles. "You're buttering me up."

"I'm worried. I'm in big trouble with the boss."

He found that hard to believe, given that Pirou was the soul of the Old Tavern Club. "What did you do?"

"You know how, sometimes, I find an unusual rescue and bring it in even though it's not our usual werewolf or werekitty?"

Something like constantly? Pirou was the softest touch on Earth and had contacts everywhere. Like he was almost scarily connected.

"I have heard you have a hobby, yes." Drill teased gently. His brother often said that he had a theory that Pirou went out of his way looking for the hard cases, for the strange beasts.

"Well, I have one downstairs. He's... special. Like for real. Like oh, my God."

"They aren't all special?" He wasn't teasing anymore -- it was an honest question. He could remember the lion Pirou had taken in, the poor thing so bedraggled and abused no one had thought he'd live. No one except Pirou, who had nursed the beast back to health. Then there'd been the zebra. Talk about high-strung. They weren't really equipped to deal with equine shifters, didn't have anyone qualified to help them. Pirou had made it happen.

"Yeah, but most of them are normal special. Not about-to-get-me-fired special."

"Okay, okay, you did it -- I'm intrigued now." Because Drill couldn't imagine anything that would make Drongo fire his beloved Pirou.

"He's in the basement. He's sedated. I'm scared to let him wake up."

"You're making him sound like a serial killer."

"God, I hope not." Pirou's fervent words made him even more intrigued.

They headed past the kitchen, deep into the basement. It was clean, but... uncomfortable. Underground was far away from the air, from the sky and clouds.

Drill wrinkled his nose. "A vampire?"

"No. No, he's... Here. It's easier to just show you. I won't open the door, in case he's awake."

Drill pressed his nose against the window in the door, but it was dark and he couldn't see anything. Before he could complain, Pirou pressed a button and a light came on highlighting a shape draped over the mattress, which was the only furniture the room boasted.

Long tail, wings like a bat, pointed snout, sapphire-blue scales. Whoa.

"Pirou... That's... he's... a dragon." Drill was stunned.


"Why is he here?" There had to be a reason the dragon was one of Pirou's special projects and sedated. Hell, Drill hadn't even known there was such a thing as a dragon shifter. No, he hadn't even known there was such a thing as a dragon. They were a thing of legends.

"The slavers had him. My contact said that they hadn't managed to get him to wake yet."

"Slavers!" That made him growl. "So you don't know if he's even sane or not, let alone a shifter."

"I don't know anything except that he's a dragon and he needs help," Pirou admitted.

"And you want me to help him and find out as much as I can before you have to tell my brother what you've done."

"Uh-huh. Please."

"You're lucky I like you, Pirou." Drill went to the door. "I'm going in."


Rose and Thorne Box Set

Book Cover: Rose and Thorne Box Set
Part of the Rose and Thorne series:
  • Rose and Thorne Box Set

Apparently Rose is just too big and scary to be a bouncer at the local club. He's considering going back into competitive bodybuilding when he meets Thorne. Short, slender and covered in ink, Thorne knows from the moment they meet Rose is the one.

Rose has been brought up to think things like spanking during sex are weird. Will Thorne be able to convince him whatever gets them off together is perfectly normal for them? And if he does, will Rose be able to take the next step -- calling Thorne Sir?

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artists:

Fuck, he was in a shitty fucking mood.

Rose grabbed the weight bar and started lifting again, making his muscles burn as he worked pecs, then biceps, then pecs again. He'd lost another bouncing job, the bar manager saying that he was too big, too scary for the little girls and pussy boys who frequented the club.

He was the fucking bouncer. He was supposed to be scary.

Damn it.


"That's a great growl, Mr. Bear."

He looked up at the speaker, finding a short, whipcord-lean man, covered in tattoos, and with the brightest green eyes, looking right at him.

"Been a day. I'll be done at this bench in two minutes." He'd taken his time.

"I'd say you were done about a half-dozen reps ago, but I'm no expert." This guy sounded... amused. Fucking amused.

Rose just grunted. Whatever. He wanted to sleep hard tonight.

"What's her name?"

"Who?" He looked around, wondering who the guy was curious about.

"In my experience, a man usually works that hard to try to impress someone, or to get over heartbreak."

Rose chuckled. "Lost my job, man. Just want to sleep it off." Like he needed some woman to work like this for.

"That sucks. What did you do?"

"I was a bouncer." He put the bar down, muscles trembling a little. Not enough, but a little. He wiped the bench down, the bar. "It's all yours."

"Whoa, wait a minute. A bouncer, and you got fired?" The guy looked him up and down and then up and down again, the looks like touches. "Why the hell did they fire you?"

"Because I'm big and scary and frightened the little twinks." Not that it was anyone's business.

The corner of the man's very lovely lips twitched. "Seriously? You're too scary to be a bouncer?"

"Apparently. Have a good one." Great. Scary and a joke. Goodie. He needed about a hundred leg curls and a beer.

"You look like you could use a drink." The guy had actually followed him to the leg machine.

"Maybe a couple of them." Rose loaded on two hundred pounds, kept another hundred for later.

"You got much longer here?" the guy asked.

Rose shrugged. "Until I get tired, I guess. I got nowhere else to be."

"Then you're done. Come on, I'll buy you a beer."

Rose blinked. He hadn't even started on his legs.

The guy smiled at him, one eyebrow going up.

"I... Do I know you?" he asked.

The man held out his hand. "I'm Thorne."

"Rose Franks." He shook. The guy's grip was solid.

"Nice to meet you, Rose. So what do you say? Come have a beer with me. I'm better company than that weight machine, I promise."

He almost said no, but the fact that Thorne didn't give a shit about him having a girl's name pleased him.

"Okay. Sure. Let me get cleaned up."

Thorne nodded. "I need to hit the change room myself."

Rose went to the locker room and headed for the showers, washing his heavy mane of hair, scrubbing down. Weird. A light whistling started in the stall next to his. The sound was oddly comforting, easy. Good. Again, weird.

The whistling stopped and Thorne walked by, tiny towel wrapped around his waist. The guy looked even better without his clothes. Lots of ink on that skin. Rose had one little rosebud, low on his hip, but Thorne's ink was wild -- tribal patterns interwoven with hearts and faces and flowers and animals. There was a hole in the ink, on the left side of the man's chest.

Then Thorne was out of his sight as he turned the corner back into the change room.

Wow. That was hot. Rose thumped his cock, making sure no one could see, and then went to get dressed.

Thorne already had his jeans on -- in fact, he almost had his top on too, that bare chest back on display as the man's arms went up, getting into the T-shirt. Rose stood, watched, licking his lips. Thorne got the T-shirt on and bent, closing the Velcro flaps on a pair of sandals he'd slipped his feet into, offering Rose an amazing view of a tight little ass.




Book Cover: Freedom
Part of the Shifter Rescue series:

Mated lynx shifters Hill and Cather have been rescued by the good people at the Old Tavern Club, specifically by Jag, who has brought them back from the brink of death and convinced them to give life, and possibly love, another chance.

Jag wants to be more than just their rescuer, though. He desires to be not only their Master, but the recipient of their love as well. Hill's all on board, but Cather is going to take more convincing, especially when he begins to have trouble shifting from one form to the other.

Can Jag help Cather solve this new obstacle to their freedom, or are the lynx's doomed to remain in their new rooms at the Old Tavern for the rest of their lives?

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artists:

Hill slept like a baby, with his arms around his beloved brother and his new lover.

New master, a voice inside him whispered.

The words made him shiver with delight. It wasn't that he'd been looking for a replacement for Darri, but he and Cather were built to have a master. They would have died had they not been rescued by the people here at the Old Tavern Club.


And even that might not have been enough were it not for Jag.

Jag made a noise and shifted, pressing closer to both of them. His hand slid down Jag's ridged belly, petting gently. Jag hummed for him, the sound not quite a purr in Jag's human form.

Love. It wasn't the word so much as the emotion itself that slid over Hill from Jag's mind.

Hill hummed and scooted down, wanting Jag's heavy cock in his lips. Jag moaned and shifted again, exposing that prick to him, already half hard.

"Need you, please." He lapped at the tip of Jag's cock.

"It's yours. Take what you need." Jag stroked his cheek, petted his head.

Hill let his eyes drop closed and wrapped his lips around Jag's heavy cock. Jag cried out, the sound filling Hill's ears. Pure pleasure flooded him, warm and rich, and he took more, inch after inch. The tip slid into his throat, and he swallowed, over and over.

Jag cried out again, hips jerking and pushing the thick cock in deep, nudging the back of Hill's throat before backing off. This Hill knew; this he understood. This he could do. He sucked harder, and Jag found a rhythm, sliding his cock along Hill's tongue, in and out, in and out.

Jag's hands dropped to Hill's head, fingers curling in his hair. He could feel the effort it took Jag not to hold his head in place and just fuck his mouth.

Yours, he sent. Take me. Use me, Master.

Jag groaned and tightened his hands on Hill's head. Then Jag began thrusting, pushing hard into his mouth over and over. He ran his hands over Jag's belly, letting Cather's body cradle him. Jag pushed into his touches, body rippling, rolling against him. Hill's tongue slapped the tip of Jag's cock, gathering a drop of salty goodness.

"Hill!" The sound of his name in Jag's voice was intoxicating. Hill chuffed softly, popping the tip again. Jag jerked for him, cock pushing deeper, driving past Hill's gag reflex and into his throat.

The lean hips tugged back right away, pulling the thick meat out of Hill's throat before he could choke.

Jag moaned. "Hill. God."

Yes. He felt like a god, a bit. Like he was lovely and desirable.

Jag stroked Hill's face, his head, fingers opening and closing around his head, the touches adding to how good he felt. He urged Jag back in, wanting that fat prick again.

"Eager cocksucker." The words were a compliment; Hill could hear it in the tone of Jag's voice as Jag's beautiful cock spread his lips again.

All he could do was nod, agree with Jag. Yes. Yes, he wanted this, craved it.



Book Cover: Fading
Part of the Shifter Rescue series:

When Pirou calls his brother Jag to the Old Tavern Club to help with a pair of lynx shifters, Jag is happy to help. Rescuing and rehabilitating big cats is his job, and it makes him the perfect person to take on the pair that Pirou has rescued from a circus.

Mates Hill and Cather were about to be put down by the circus that owned them as they refused to perform after their Master, tiger shifter Darri, was killed in an accident during his last performance. The pair have been beaten, mistreated, and are near death's door, so it's going to take all of Jag's resources to help these two kitties find themselves again.

Along the way, Jag just might find his heart in peril, too.

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artists:

Jag parked behind the Old Tavern and knocked on the back door. While the place might look like nothing more than a pub on the ground floor of an office building downtown, he knew better. He knew the secrets the Old Tavern held. He was, after all, a part of them. He wasn't involved in every rescue, but he contributed financially every year and, whenever his skills were needed, he would come in and help turn around rescues.


His field of expertise in the "real world" was rehabilitating big cats who had been held captive, rescued from circuses and sideshows. The reasons why he was so good at it were two-fold. One, he was a cat shifter himself, his jaguar fast and strong, an apex predator. Two, long experience from an early age.

Shifter rescues were both easier and harder to help than "normal" big cats. As they were part human, they could understand and respond, though some sank so far into their animal selves that they could no longer tap into their human sides. Being part human also made them more complex than their one-hundred-percent animal counterparts, though, and instinct and breeding weren't as easy to predict.

He did love the challenge of big cats -- shifters and not -- so getting a call from the Old Tavern was both sad, because it meant someone needed rescuing, but also made him eager to face the new challenge, to help someone who needed him.

Jag knocked again, a little louder this time.

"Sorry. Sorry, I was settling a new client. We're running a full house today." Pirou was clearly distracted, hardly even seeing him. Mind no doubt on the many shifters in need.

Jag smiled at Pirou. The rescues... well, Pirou did a bit of everything, and the place would be chaos without him. Slender and sweet, and a total sub with the biggest heart imaginable, Pirou was perfect for the job.

"Hey." Jag touched Pirou's arm. "It's fine. You called. A new kitty, I presume?"

"Uh-huh. Two. I thought they were dead when they first came in. Lynxes." Pirou shook his head, sighed softly. "They refused to perform after their handler died. The management had them beaten."

Jag growled, baring his teeth. "Some people shouldn't be allowed near animals, let alone our kind. Did they know they had shifters on their hands?"

He stepped in and Pirou closed the door, locking it carefully. "I don't know, love." Pirou came to him, rubbing his cheek against Jag's in greeting. "It's good to see you, brother."

He gave Pirou a quick, tight hug, enjoying the mingling of their scents. "You too. We really need to try to get together just for lunch or something once in a while." He knew even as he said it they probably wouldn't. They were both too busy. At least his involvement with the Old Tavern kept them in touch on a regular basis.

"Now let me meet these near-dead lynxes. There's work to be done." Jag knew that Pirou would be as anxious as he was to bring comfort and relief to these abused kitties.

"Come with me. They're in the mauve room, hiding under about ten thousand blankets."

Making a cave. That made sense. And the mauve room was on the second floor, a light lilac room with no windows, buried well within the warren of rooms. If he remembered correctly, there would be rooms with a small kitchen, living room and a bathroom, along with another bedroom attached, so the rescues could feel like they had their own territory within the little apartment.

"Have they communicated with you at all? Eaten? Drunk water?" Food and sleep and comfort would be the first order of the day. "Have they shifted at all?" He needed as much information as he could gather before going in there.

"Communicated? No. Eaten? No. Drunk water? Yes. Shifted? No. They were on IVs and feeding tubes for more than a month before they even began to heal the actual trauma. Doctor Franx says they're healthy but emotionally devastated."

There had to be a good reason why he was only being called in more than a month after the rescues had arrived. "And you didn't call me earlier because they only came to today?"

Pirou nodded and Jag followed his brother to the mauve room on the second floor.

"Have they let anyone near them since they've been awake?" he asked.

"They don't seem to care. The only response anyone has seen was when they tried to separate them. The bigger of the two had to be sedated."

"All they've had is each other, so that's not surprising. Poor babies." He gave Pirou a hug, knowing they both needed it after discussing what had happened to these latest rescues. It was always awful to see a shifter abused, but the cats in particular struck a chord. "The mauve room has a suite attached to it?" He was pretty sure he was remembering the layout correctly, but he'd hate to have to move the lynxes, and he'd need a separate living area, and a kitchen, possibly even a bedroom for himself, though he could curl up in any corner and get some shut-eye.

"It does. With two of them, I thought we'd need space."

"My clever brother. You always were good at anticipating everyone's needs. Do we know their names?"

"Not yet."

They arrived at the door and he took a couple of deep breaths, steeling himself for anything. "All right. Let's do this thing."



Book Cover: Claws
Part of the Shifter Rescue series:

Life is never dull when you've become a dragon shifter's keeper.

Now that Drill is Az, the dragon shifter's keeper, it's time for them to move out of the basement. Being the owner's brother has some perks and Pirou has renovated their rooms to include everything that could make a dragon shifter and a master happy. With a place of their own, Az and Drill are free to explore each other and their special relationship.

The slavers who first stole Az still want the dragon they lost, though, and when they attack, it exposes Az and Drill to the rest of the residents at the Old Tavern Club, including Drill's brother and club owner Drongo. Can Az and Drill survive the exposure?

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artists:

It was the middle of the night, and Pirou had cleared the hallways of the Old Tavern Club so Drill and Az could move from the basement to their new rooms on the top floor. The club, a front for the shifter rescue organization Pirou managed, was empty at three a.m. and in the upper floors of the building, where many of their rescues lived, the residents were all in their apartments.


Drill was eager to get the dragon-rescue he'd claimed as his own, Az, out of their little room underground to one of the rooms on a higher floor where they'd have more room, sunlight and a view. A full fridge so Pirou didn't have to have more meat delivered to them three times a day. A huge bed, big sofas and chairs. A tub. He knew Az very badly wanted to bathe in water, and he was eager to share that with his dragon.

Now that the time to make the move was approaching, Az was, of course, hiding under the bed, and chewing his claws.

The knock at the door signaled that they were ready to go.

"We'll be right there, Pirou," Drill said softly through the door. Then he bent and looked under the bed. "Don't be afraid, Az."

"I can stay here in the safe," Az insisted.

"It'll be safe upstairs, too, Az. And in the halls, because you'll be with me." He couldn't blame Az, really -- the last time he'd been out in the open, he'd been taken by the slavers. Whereas he'd been safe here from the moment Pirou had rescued him.

Az hid his face.

"You need to come, Az. Trust me." That was the most important thing, of course. That Az trust him. It would always be the most important thing, no matter what the situation.

"I do, Keeper, but I'm scared," Az admitted.

"I know. But there's a huge tub waiting for you. A bigger bed. Sunlight." Drill knew these things would all be incentives.

"Sunlight." Az breathed the word like it was sacred.

"Yes, Az. Right now there are stars."

Drill wondered, could his dragon do stairs or did he need to be human for that?

"Do you know what stairs are?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, Keeper."

"Okay. Good. Good. There are five flights." If Az couldn't work stairs they would risk meeting someone in the elevators, but the stairs would be better. Quieter, private.


He kept forgetting Az had no concept of so many of things he -- and most of the population -- took for granted. The results of spending his entire life in seclusion from humans. "Sections. There are five sets of stairs."

"And no one will take me away and poke me with needles?" Az asked.

"No." Just the thought made Drill growl. "I will kill anyone who tries." He would let his bear-wolf out and tear them to pieces.

Az slowly crawled out from under the bed.

"Oh, you're definitely going to need a bath when we get home." Drill brushed dust from Az's scales.

"A water bath?" Az asked.

"Yes, my dragon. A water bath we can share together."

Az's eyes went wide, sparkling. There. Now they had motivation.

Drill nodded. "A real water bath, Az. Wanna?"

Az nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Let's go then."

Drill opened the door and motioned for Az to come out with him. Az followed him, staying close, eyes huge and watching.

He rubbed Az's head as they got to the first set of stairs. "Okay. Five sets of eighteen stairs. There shouldn't be anyone in the stairwell."

Pirou had promised the way was clear, all the way up.

"Five eighteens. Ninety stairs."

"Hey, you're fast. I think that's right, too." Drill was a little slower, but Az's math was right.

Az nodded, then zipped up the stairs, counting quickly. It made Drill blink, then he gave chase. His dragon had so many surprises in him. So many. He kept following the wicked-looking tail, never quite managing to catch up.

Az landed on the top stair. "Ninety!" His dragon was not the least bit out of breath, but Drill was panting pretty well.

"Good job, Az."

Az trilled softly, obviously pleased.

Drill rubbed Az's head, stroked along his back, then knocked on the door out of the stairwell. "Is the corridor clear, Pirou?"

"It is," Pirou called through the stairwell door. "Come on, you'll share this floor with the boss."

Drill opened the hall door and drew Az through it. The only one in the corridor was Pirou, an encouraging smile on his face.

"The boss is my brother," Drill told Az. "He's... not as good people as Pirou here, but we can trust him."

"Not good?" Az asked, frowning.

Pirou fluttered. "He's perfect."

Drill rolled his eyes. "I love my brother, but he's my brother. There's nothing wrong with him, but he's far from perfect. Unless you're Pirou."

"He is Pirou's keeper?" Az asked as they followed Pirou to a door that had to be to their rooms.

Drill looked at Pirou, one eyebrow raised. Privately, he thought Pirou would very much like his brother to be exactly that. Keeper, master, sir, Dom, however you wanted to put it.

"I'll unlock your door for you." Pirou punched in the key on the number pad.

"You don't have an answer for Az?" Drill grinned and turned to his dragon. "Pirou would like my brother to be his keeper."

"Oh." Az went to Pirou, wrapped around him. "If you know it, you should claim him. Bite him."

Oh, fuck, that was the sweetest thing Drill had ever seen.