Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway: Soulslayers (Chronicles of the Charon, #3) by Colin Sephton

SOULSLAYERS

Chronicles of the Charon, Book Three

by

Colin Sephton

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by

Goddess Fish Promotions.

Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Steampunk Fantasy

Publisher: Cinnabar Moth Publishing LLC

Publication Date: November 4, 2025

Page count: 259 pages

SCROLL DOWN FOR GIVEAWAY!

SYNOPSIS:

Ignatius and Indigo find themselves struggling mentally to come to terms with the complex nature of the cosmos and their newfound supernatural powers obtained through their prior encounters with gods and demons. In their quest for another relic from the Creation, they are aided by the secretive thirteenth Chapter of the Union Jacks. In search of the secret of the Flaming Celestial Pearl, they must travel to Tibet in the great airship, HM Spirit of the Empire.

 

Pursued by fanatical knights sworn to protect the relic, they must reluctantly call upon the Charon, the seven merciless demons from the underworld to assist them. Piecing together the map that will lead them to a fabled city hidden deep within the Himalayas, they must defend themselves from air pirates, a previous foe from Oxford, mountain beasts and elementals.

 

Discovering the correct path through the mountains, Indigo realises her soul may never be the same again. Regardless, they enter the Great Void where using the Sword of Wisdom, they discover the truth about the cosmos.

CLICK TO PURCHASE!

| Amazon | Apple Books | BAM! |

| Barnes & Noble | Bookshop.org |

| Indigo | Kobo | Smashwords | Walmart |

ENJOY AN EXCERPT:

The desk was large, and made from burr walnut, inlaid with green leather, decorated around the edge in gold. Its golden glow illuminated the office. The room was floored with black and white tiles and all four walls were lined with rich oak panelling, with the same crest carved into one of the panels. Behind the desk hung a large oil painting, a dark portrait of a brooding figure. The desk was otherwise uncluttered, just a brass inkstand and a green banker’s lamp. The only ornamentation was a bronze of a lion like those seen in Trafalgar Square.

 

“Good morning, Mr Lawrence,” said an aide as he entered the office with a silver tray of tea. Earl Grey, his preferred choice. Hot, no milk.

 

“The latest reports, sir,” the aide gestured with his head at the stack of Manilla folders. “Some unusual goings on in Oxford,” he said as he raised an eyebrow. The thin weaselly man had been with the Union some twenty years and throughout all that time had spent most of it behind a desk.

 

Lawrence didn’t rise to his prompting and replied simply, “Very well, Jenkins, I will let you know!”

 

Sifting through the reports, Lawrence took on a serious brow, mulling over the potential impact on the Empire of each report. The first report told of dangerous shamanic practices in China, disrupting the activities of the East India Company. He picked up the next report and after reading it, then reading it again, his face turned red, his brow furrowing. Significant disturbances in Oxford. His large fist slammed down in a rage onto the green leather, knocking his ink pot over. A book fell off the shelf behind him as he filled his lungs and bellowed, “Jenkins, get me Isambard Ignatius. NOW!”

AUTHOR GUEST POST:

Please welcome Colin Sephton, the author of today's featured book, to the blog with the delightful answer to the question:

Who is your favorite character in this book and why? 

My favourite character in the book has to be one of the two protagonists, Indigo. She has developed throughout the trilogy, starting with Timeslayers, to be more of a hero than I first intended. I see the two main characters, Ignatius and Indigo as extensions of me, so I always know what they would say or how they would react. This has become easier since writing the first book in the trilogy. I have had the name Indigo Gemstone in my head for over thirty years. I always joked to my wife, that if our first child was a girl, this would be her name! Fortunately, we had a son!

For that reason, I think I have a soft spot for her. But throughout the trilogy, and I don’t want to give too much away for those that haven’t read the books yet, she has changed. She has become darker, more self-aware. She is trying to work out if she loves Ignatius or is their relationship a matter of circumstances. They have fought supernatural beings and gods together. Only they have experience this and are both struggling coming to term with it. This has taken its toll on her mental health, so I have ensured it has made her much stronger.

She also existed in my fantasy artwork before the trilogy was published. I have such a vivid picture in my head what she looks like. You can see this in the accompanying artbook for the first novel on Amazon. All these reasons make her my favourite.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Colin Sephton was born in Coventry and worked in the automotive industry for over twenty years before becoming an Engineering teacher. Obtaining his first library card at the age of thirteen, he became an avid reader of Fantasy and the mysteries of the Universe. He has an inbuilt curiosity for lost knowledge and ancient texts that may help to unlock the secrets of consciousness and the universe. Living in Oxford for many years, he has now moved back to his home county of Warwickshire where he enjoys creating and working with his wife on their garden in which he writes and entertains their two grandsons. He has always been an artist and writer and is inspired by the worlds created by Robert E Howard and Michael Moorcock, with the artwork of Frank Frazetta.

| Website | Newsletter Sign Up | Amazon | Facebook |

| Goodreads | Instagram | Instagram |

GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY! GIVEAWAY!

Colin Sephton will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

Teaser Book Blitz: Warrior Queen by Mikala Ash

Warrior Queen

Empire of the Sky, Book Six

by

Mikala Ash

LGBTQ+ / Steampunk / Romance

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Publication Date: April 4, 2025

Page count: 134 pages

SYNOPSIS:

A volatile cauldron of magic, love, and the empire may be on the edge of a precipice, but witches, humans, and automatons indulge in pleasures of the flesh.

Victoria has been dubbed by her adoring public as their Warrior Queen. Destroying her Continental enemies is nothing to the challenge she faces now. For years, the Lunarians, goblins from the moon, led by the powerful witch Mon Ilson, have been murdering humans and stealing the bodies for his followers to “adopt.”

Beautiful witch Selena Whiteheart, Mon Ilson’s human agent on Earth, is closely watched by Home Office Agent Harry Kincaid, whose loyalty to the Queen suppresses his ability to show Selena his true feelings. Spiritualist Miss Cordelia Warrington has been exploring the carnal attributes and mechanical stamina of Adam, her automaton butler. Now Selena needs Cordelia’s help, and allows herself to be entertained by the amorous pair in a steamy ménage à trois.

Meanwhile, Agent of the Queen Rachel Clayton is instantly attracted to the hauntingly handsome Major Guy Tremayne, hero of the Coronation Island disaster. Can he be trusted? She throws all caution to the wind to find out. At a crucial moment the Queen is cruelly betrayed and threatened with assassination. Selena, Rachel, and Victoria all face difficult choices as love and lust compete with their duty to the Empire.

Author’s Note: Enjoy Warrior Queen as a standalone tale or as part of a continuing narrative.

Click to Purchase!

| Amazon | Apple Books |

| Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords |

 

 

ENJOY AN EXCERPT:

Thwack!

Thwack!

The sound of two cane sticks striking each other reminded me of how a scant two hours ago the Home Secretary had slapped my posterior as he ravaged me. Pressed for time he’d unceremoniously bent me over his Whitehall desk, pulled down my culottes and drawers, grabbed my shoulders for leverage, and drove his prodigious erection into me with frightful force. A few minutes later he flooded my quivering cunt with his lava hot seed. It had been a perfunctory fuck, short and sharp, and my climax perversely satisfying.

My cunny still retained a fair quantity of his ejaculation, and I shifted in my seat contriving to put pressure on my fleshy nether lips to keep it from escaping. My apparently not-so-subtle contortions did not escape the notice of the fine-looking man sitting opposite me. I’d quite forgotten about him as I relived the morning’s carnal adventure. He cleared his throat which brought me back to the here and now.

I was sitting in a Buckingham Palace anteroom, and I felt my cheeks warm under the scrutiny of this ruggedly handsome and smartly uniformed officer. When I’d first arrived, he’d introduced himself as Guy Tremayne. He was in fact the famous Major of the Southern Royal Air Corps who’d distinguished himself by leading the survivors of an airship crash on Coronation Island, a frozen rock midway between Tierra Del Fuego and Antarctica. Their inspirational struggle for survival on the barren island was a true Boys Own Adventure. I’d read his file during my recent convalescence and believed Major Tremayne to be a brave and resourceful officer, respected by his men and superiors alike.

He had given me an elegant bow, took my proffered hand, and lightly brushed his lips against my knuckles. To say I was instantly attracted would be an understatement. He was the epitome of masculinity: well over six feet tall, slim, and long legged. His hips were narrow, his chest deep, and his shoulders broad. His sharply chiselled face was suntanned, and above a thin black moustache his nose was pleasantly symmetrical. The palest of blue eyes gave his countenance a strikingly mysterious and yet desirable aspect.

My cunny throbbed.

He was sitting as if he was on parade with his back straight as a board. He’d started his career in the cavalry, and I couldn’t help but imagine him in the saddle riding into battle, his sabre held high, its razor edge glinting in the sun. He’d actually seen combat, and his curly hair disguised the missing left ear, lost during a bloody skirmish in the Punjab.

Thwack! Thwack!

“Do you singlestick?” I asked him, my mouth dry, and my voice husky.

Thwack! Thwack!

The corners of his mouth curled into a smile. “Indeed, I do. The sabre is my weapon of choice.”

Singlestick fighting had been a feature of English martial life for centuries and cavalry men used it for practicing sabre strokes from horseback. Though the sport had become highly regimented, it required fast reflexes and strict discipline. I found it useful for developing forearm and wrist strength.

Thwack! Thwack!

“Perhaps we should have a bout?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Thwack! Thwack!

My cunt throbbed lustily, and inside my blouse, my nipples ached. I licked my bottom lip, slowly. “Are you residing in London?”

He threw up his hands. “Alas. I exist at the whim of the War Department.”

Thwack! Thwack!

“Then we should arrange a time soon.”

“I believe I am free tomorrow evening.”

“As it happens, so am I.”

Thwack! Thwack!

We’d just concluded arrangements to meet at a restaurant in Chelsea when the door to the anteroom opened, and a footman showed in a slim, elegantly dressed woman. She was about forty years of age, with an attractive oval face and perfect complexion accentuated by challenging hazel eyes and provocatively painted red lips. Her luxurious auburn hair was coiled expertly around her head in such a way that suggested considerable length. The bulk was held in place with gem-tipped pins which glinted in the harsh electric light. I imagined her standing naked, her hair cascading over her ample breasts, reaching and discreetly hiding her mound of Venus. I recognised her as the wife of a member of the House of Lords, and this sensual impression I’d constructed was at odds with her reputation. She was known as a straitlaced prude, active in charitable institutions and a fierce and passionate advocate for women’s suffrage. On one occasion she’d been seen at a rally striking a constable with a placard after she accused him of taking undisclosed liberties.

I curtsied. “Lady Fogerty, I’m Rachel Clayton.”

 

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.

| Facebook | X (Twitter) |

 

Changeling Press LLC

| Facebook | Instagram | TikTok | X (Twitter) |

Teaser Tuesday: Beneath the Skin (Empire of the Sky, #5) by Mikala Ash

Beneath the Skin

Empire of the Sky, Book Five

by

Mikala Ash

Steampunk Romance

Publisher: Changeling Press

Publication Date: November 29, 2024

Page count: 133 pages

SYNOPSIS:

Soulmates? Or simply lovers? Selena and Nancy hope their paramours can see beneath the skin. 

Selena Whiteheart has her hands full. The malignant witch, Lady Neva, has kidnapped her lovers, Jacob McCleary and Captain Kit Colby. While keeping her Home Office handler, Harry Kincaid, satisfied in every way, Selena vows to rescue them, but first she must contend with a mesmerised assassin.

Meanwhile Nancy Lea, envoy in human form of the goblin king, Mon Ilson, Emperor of Space, has failed in her bid to secure peace. Queen Victoria has sent her packing with a flea in her ear. With her lover and protector, Captain Jaimee Dalgliesh, she returns to the moon to report. With three days to kill, Nancy teaches Jaimee the joys of weightless lovemaking. However, Jaimee comes face to face with a real goblin. Can he overcome his visceral disgust and love the soul beneath Nancy's stolen skin?

The soul of Agent Felicity Cressy, murdered by Lady Neva, finds a safe haven in Nancy's mind. Will Mon Ilson return her to her body, and what does he expect in return?

CLICK TO PURCHASE!

| Amazon | Apple Books | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords |

 

EXCERPT:

Copyright ©2024 Mikala Ash

 

Selena Whiteheart

1867 -- A Vixen in the Mist

 

I am a duplicitous witch.

Like Janus, the mythological god of beginnings and endings, I present different faces to the world. I began as Marjorie Fletcher, a naïve country virgin murdered for my body by hideous goblins. My homeless soul found refuge in the mind of Cressida Troy, with whom I fell in love. Inevitably I also lost my heart to her fiancé, Jacob McCleary, and I experienced lovemaking for the first time through Cressida. Now, as Selena Whiteheart, human agent of Mon Ilson, the goblin king and self-styled Emperor of Space, and owner of the empire’s greatest airborne gambling and bawdy house, I love the handsome and brave Captain Kit Colby.

I stood at my fireplace staring at the likenesses of Jacob and Kit inside a gold locket. I’d drawn both myself, and think I captured their essential differences rather well. Jacob, the former schoolteacher, whose intelligent gaze signified his thoughtful and considerate nature both in and out of bed, had given me my first experience of lovemaking, albeit vicariously. He was now estranged from Cressida Troy after the murder of Fleur Cumberland, which I had orchestrated. Kit, on the other hand, was a lusty warrior, a decorated hero of the savage air war against Prussia and the Hungarian Empire. As befitting his martial nature, Kit was both forceful and deliberate in his lovemaking.

I was lost for a few moments in a warm memory of passionate kisses, entwined tongues, probing fingers and hard, thrusting cocks before a wave of fear coursed through me. Tears threatened to flow as I traced their images.

I was not alone in my office. I was dimly aware of the earnest little man jabbering about an invention of his. I didn’t care about Mr. Frasier. I was immersed in a sea of despair, and the peril my charade placed not just Jacob and Kit in, but me also.

Both Jacob and Kit were captives of Lady Neva Talbot-Rhys, a powerful witch hell-bent on killing Queen Victoria. Lady Neva held the Queen responsible for her lover’s death during England’s devastating military reprisal against Prussia. I understood her wanting revenge. I felt the same about her.

I had to get them back. Lady Neva was a merciless malevolent maniac, capable of wholesale slaughter -- I’d witnessed that firsthand. My heart chilled at the thought of what horrors Jacob and Kit were suffering at her evil hands.

I wanted desperately to believe they still lived. Why else would Lady Neva kidnap them but to use them for some nefarious purpose?

Jacob had been sent by Mon Ilson to add weight to his envoy Nancy Lea’s mission to arrange a demonstration of his ultimate weapon. Lady Neva had stumbled upon Jacob during her search for Kit, and being a skilled mind reader, she would have instantly known Jacob’s value. That would have been a surprise to her, no doubt. But she was not one to miss an opportunity to cause the Queen even greater problems. She had intended to kidnap Nancy Lea as well, but fortunately she had escaped. I believed Lady Neva had probably gone to Europe to sell Jacob’s knowledge to one of Britain’s host of enemies. If that was the case, then Mon Ilson’s carefully laid plans could be wrecked and chaos would ensue, resulting in the deaths of millions. Frustratingly, our overseas agents had not detected any sign of Lady Neva. She had disappeared like a vixen in the mist.

I shuddered and took in a ragged breath of despair at what she would do to Kit. Unlike Jacob, who had political value, poor Kit she could torture at her leisure. Kit had become the object of her revenge after thwarting her plan to use the Prince of Wales to kill the Queen.

For the time being, as Selena Whiteheart, I do the bidding of the goblin king, the most powerful witch in history. For the moment our goals aligned. He too wanted Lady Neva found, for her determination to kill Queen Victoria threatened to derail his own plans of conquest.

My service to Mon Ilson requires a significant amount of time and energy, for I must hide my true intentions from him by burying them deep within my consciousness. I hate Mon Ilson. His goblins had murdered me, and then stolen my body from the grave. While I obeyed his commands, I secretly supported his overthrow by Cressida Troy, now his empress, another human with another name: Nil Ilson.

Cressida had saved my soul. Or rather my nascent magical abilities had led me to her, and her mind became my temporary safe haven. Then my magical powers were like a seed, waiting for water and heat. Unwittingly Mon Ilson supplied those himself, for when he read Cressida’s mind, he had detected me and recognised my potential as a servant. Like Pandora he opened the box of magic and let me absorb as much as I could hold.

To regain my body, I had enchanted both Cressida and Mon Ilson into believing they loved each other and convinced her to prove her loyalty to him so he would return my soul to my body. As my puppet, Cressida killed the most powerful human witch, Fleur Cumberland. Mon Ilson repaid me by returning my soul to my body and sending me to Earth to prepare the way for his conquest. I had confessed my perfidy to Cressida, hoping she would work with me to resist him. Cressida married Mon Ilson, and adopted the name Nil Ilson, and the title Empress of Space.

Mon Ilson’s plan to overthrow the British Empire required the co-opting of Queen Victoria. He meant to use the vast infrastructure of her empire to take over the world with hardly a fight. So, for the time being I’d be his enthusiastic cat’s paw until I could help Nil Ilson, Cressida, defeat him.

But first I have to find Jacob and Kit.

“Ahem. Er. Miss Whiteheart?”

The clearing throat and hesitant voice reminded me of Mr. Frasier’s presence. I closed the locket and turned to face the untidily dressed, red-haired little man. Before I’d lost myself in my own thoughts, he’d been enthusiastically engaged in a technical monologue about his new invention.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, returning the locket to my bosom. “Pray continue.”

He cleared his throat again, and after taking a deep breath began to list the benefits of his new gadget, a tamperproof roulette wheel.

“It will kill any accusation of fraudulence,” he had begun.

As if the honesty of my tables had ever been in question. The idea that I would be accused of cheating was insulting, but I continued to listen with feigned interest.

His name was David Frasier, a middle-aged inventor and factory owner from Edinburgh. He’d been introduced to me by Special Branch agent and my latest lover, Harry Kincaid. After making the introductions, Harry had excused himself, saying he had to send a message to his club.

That was a lie. The murky shade of Harry’s aura had given him away. I knew he was listening at the door. He’d asked me to be nice to Frasier as he was trying to recruit him as a spy. He visited the continent often, doing business with some prominent politicians and industrialists. The introduction to me would put Frasier in Harry’s debt.

It was for that reason I resigned myself to listen without objection to the fellow’s insulting proposition.

Frasier stopped in mid-sentence. He had been enthusiastically describing his contrivance, something to do with building a miniature mechanical computational device invented by Charles Babbage, when his face had become flushed, and beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. His hands started to tremble, and his final words ended in a slur. His aura had, in an instant, transformed into a seething pulsating muddy blob, the colours bubbling through each other in a roiling mass. A moment before it had been quite normal, nervous perhaps, and very excited, but that is not unusual in men meeting me for the first time, and after all, he was trying to make a sale. The transition had been so abrupt, so unnatural, I reached out to his mind to see the cause. I sensed despair, and most of all, mind-numbing fear. Hardly a coherent thought peeked through. The one that did was unmistakable.

“Mr. Frasier, don’t do this!” I put a suppression spell over him. “Whatever it is, I can help.”

 

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.

 | Facebook | X (Twitter) |

Changeling Press

| Website | Ezine | Facebook | Instagram | TikTok | X (Twitter) |

 

Preorder Today

Preorder Blitz: Goblin Girl (Empire of the Sky, #4) by Mikala Ash

Goblin Girl

Empire of the Sky, Book 4

by

Mikala Ash

Steampunk Romance

Publisher: Changeling Press

Publication Date: July 26, 2024

Page count: 135 pages

SYNOPSIS:

Nancy Lea is the Lunarian envoy to Queen Victoria. She and Jacob McCleary come to Earth with a deadly warning from Mon Ilson, the Emperor of Space. At an isolated airfield in the midst of a raging storm, Nancy is cruelly mistaken for the murderous Lady Neva Talbot-Rhys. Nancy is interrogated by the Queen's Agent, the witch Felicity Cressy. To keep her off guard, Felicity employs an unorthodox strategy. She introduces the dashing Captain Jaimee Dalgliesh to the alien in human form. His mission is to seduce Nancy, but can he avoid being seduced in turn?

Goblin Girl continues the Cressida Troy saga in which an unprepared world faces alien invasion. In a time where airships are commonplace, and witchcraft plays a crucial role in Queen Victoria's empire, Goblin Girl is a steamy adventure in the strange but curiously familiar universe of what could have been.

CLICK TO PURCHASE!

| Amazon | Apple Books | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords | 

 

ENJOY AN EXCERPT:

Nancy Lea

1867 A Goblin Girl Goes to Earth

It was a rough descent. Inside the capsule, Jacob and I were pressed together in the contoured couch, hip to hip, and shoulder to shoulder. The belts that held me securely in place as we were jostled about bit through my one-piece flying costume and would surely leave bruises. We were riding a human test vehicle which we had captured some time ago. Jacob had been the pilot and had been our prisoner until he reluctantly agreed to be Mon Ilson’s envoy. I was to carry my emperor’s voice to the queen.

Jacob was wearing a leather flying cap and green filtered goggles and looked quite amphibian as his gaze shifted from side to side. He was closely monitoring the gauges and dials on the control panel and manipulated the various levers that controlled the ship’s buoyancy. Occasionally he would glance at me, and the visible part of his face split in a broad grin. He was excited to be returning home.

By Mon Ilson’s magic, the churning storm camouflaged our arrival. Barely two minutes before, we’d been released by the Lunarian airship and were descending at a rapid rate toward the Lizard Peninsula on the Cornish coast. Our ship, little more than a spherical steel ball barely ten feet wide, bucked and swayed at the mercy of the tempest. I bit my lower lip, imagining the gale that raged on the other side of the vessel’s thin shell, just a few inches from my head.

Jacob was adjusting the controls to release helium gas from our envelope so that we landed as close as we could to the designated airfield. Timing was of the essence if we were not to be blown too far off course. A violent wind gust rocked us, and I clutched Jacob’s arm.

“Chin up, Goblin Girl. We’ll be on solid ground soon.”

The appellation took me back to the first occasion he called me by that vile name. At the time I knew he’d intended it as an insult. We’d been “fucking like ferrets” as he described our frequent coupling, and I was panting frantically in the aftermath of a thundering climax.

“Why do you call me that?” I had asked resentfully once my breathing had calmed.

“Goblin Girl?” His smile as he chucked my chin was annoyingly patronising. “My dear,” he began, his tone mocking. “I know inside that pretty little human head is a leather-skinned goblin, like those stone gargoyles perched high up on a cathedral wall. You have huge yellow eyes, slimy slits for nostrils cut in a grey face as flat as an anvil. Rows of pin-sharp teeth hide behind knife-edged lips. You have bony shoulders, and muscled arms like knotted wood, so powerful you could snap a human neck. Not to forget the pair of oily black wings like those of a demonic bat, equipped with a half dozen razor-tipped talons, and ugly gnarled feet! For God’s sake, don’t get me started on your feet!”

I would be lying to pretend it hadn’t hurt, but his description of our -- yes, my -- natural form was accurate. What cut deeper was that he’d use those words to hurt me while his pearly seed dripped from my very bruised and unmistakably human cunt. I had given him the most hateful of glares and stuck out my tongue.

He laughed. “That’s the spirit! On occasion you act so human. Sometimes I quite forget.”

“I don’t want you to forget.”

“Why do you say so?”

“I want you to love me for myself, my soul, not my outward form whatever it takes.”

“Huh! Beauty is only skin deep as they say. Is that what you mean? Are you sure you want to go down that thorny trail?”

My feelings were hurt, still an odd sensation, and I didn’t yet know when to stop. “Perhaps.”

Jacob knitted his brow. “Why on Earth do you want me to love you? Don’t answer that. I know you are just following orders and will say anything to get inside my head.” His expression had changed, from mild curiosity to utter contempt.

“I wonder you can bring yourself to lie with me if that is what you believe.”

Jacob shrugged. “A man has urges. I can’t control the call, the quickening of the blood, or deny the demanding reality of my hard cock. That body you have stolen, killed for, I should say, would get a rise out of any man -- alive or dead! Your human covering is just an empty vessel, somewhere to dump my seed.” He glared at me, his eyes as hard as flint, and I saw the hatred behind them. Then they softened. “Ah, don’t do that.”

He wiped the tear away with his thumb. The gentle action broke the dam, and there followed a flood.

“Ah, my Goblin Girl… come here!” He held me close, his heart thudding in his chest, his warm breath upon my cheek. “I’m a beast too. There’s no denying it.”

Later, after he’d ploughed my furrow once again and jetted more seed into my human cunt, he held me tight. “Why?” he asked after a few moments.

“Why what?”

His gaze took in my quivering form. “All this. Why did you give up your natural body for this human one? Marjorie was so in love with hers she’d do anything to get it back, even murder and treason. Why are you lot not attached to your form?”

He was referring to Marjorie, a nascent witch whose body had been taken from its grave and later adopted. Her soul found sanctuary in Cressida Troy’s mind until Mon Ilson enabled her to return to her body for helping Cressida kill the human scientist, Fleur Cumberland. Now Marjorie was our most powerful agent on Earth.

Jacob had thumped his naked chest. “My attachment to this weak and breakable frame was so strong it allowed me to survive after my soul had been wrenched away.” He took my chin between thumb and forefinger. “You chose to do this,” he continued, forcing me to justify myself. “Why?”

Why indeed? “I do not regret it.”

“I’ve noticed, and that’s what I don’t understand. Have you all been mesmerised by Mon Ilson to deny your love of your natural form?”

“I have not!”

“Then why? I want to understand. It’s no small thing to give up your body, no matter how grotesque it is.”

“We do not see ourselves so,” I countered.

His brow furrowed with incomprehension. “Then why? You could fly, for God’s sake!”

“It is hard to express. It is too easy to say, as many will, I did it because Mon Ilson commanded it. Those words are just a public display of loyalty. As wonderful achievements as our cities are, the selfish reason is we are heartily sick of existing underground. We want to live under a wide blue sky rather than a roof of stone, feel fragrant wind on our cheeks rather than a sterile breeze from a fan, to bask in the summer sun and have our faces tanned, impossible under cold artificial light. We want to swim in the ocean and feel mud squish between our toes. We want to make love, to feel a kiss and take pleasure in it, to quiver with a soft caress, and be overwhelmed by the glorious sensations of making love.” 

Copyright ©2024 Mikala Ash

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!”

| Facebook | Publisher | Twitter (X) |

CHANGELING PRESS:

| Facebook | Instagram | TikTok | Twitter (X) | 

Preorder Today

Teaser Tuesday Book Blitz: Cressida's Agents (Empire of the Sky, #3) by Mikala Ash

Cressida's Agents

Empire of the Sky, Book Three

by

Mikala Ash

Steampunk

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Publication Date: June 7, 2024

Page count: 156 pages

SYNOPSIS:

Replete with all the trappings of an alternate world -- airships, steam powered aircraft, automatons, moon bases, and witches with psychic powers -- Cressida’s Agents is a steamy thrill-a-minute ride in a universe of what could have been.

Cressida Troy, after being mesmerised into betraying humanity, is now the wife of Mon Ilson, the alien leader, and is crowned Empress of Space. While pretending to be the love of his long-life, Cressida is desperately seeking a way to redeem herself, and somehow save human civilization from destruction at his hands. Then her former fiancé, Jacob, is captured and brought to the moon. Can she earn back his love, or has her seeming betrayal hurt him too much?

Meanwhile on Earth, Marjorie, in the guise of brothel madam and casino owner is acting as an agent of Mon Ilson. Her goal is to learn from him the secret of immortality, and for now she must do his bidding. A violent assassination attempt on her airship Fortuna brings her into the strong arms of handsome Squadron Leader, Sir Christopher “Kit” Colby. Her attempt to uncover the mastermind behind the plot leads them both into deadly danger.

CLICK TO PURCHASE!

| Amazon | Apple Books | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords |

 

 

 

READ AN EXCERPT: 

Bauble-like, the Earth shone down on ash-hued desolation, embarrassing the barren scene with exuberant fecundity. Patches of white lace speckled the deep blue of the oceans and brushed the rich ochre of North Africa. Above was Europe and, if I squinted my eyes, I fancied I could see my island home, the lush green of England.

My breast ached with a fervent yearning.

My husband, Mon Ilson, the self-anointed Emperor of Space, drew me closer and kissed my neck. “It will all be ours, my love.”

“When?”

“In due time, my darling.” He pulled me to him, and I snuggled against his muscular chest. “Do you miss it so?”

I thought a moment and shook my head. “Not when I am with you.”

His lips brushed my earlobe. “We will return soon. I promise. Our plans advance by the day. Once again you will walk upon the green grass and feel fresh air upon your cheeks.”

I turned my head and returned his kiss, deepening it, allowing the stirring in my quim to mask the confusion of my thoughts. As homesick as I was, did I really want to go back? Could I conquer my guilt? I feared that with the first step the grass beneath my feet would turn to cinders as dead as the lunar dust.

Much had happened to me in the year since I’d left the world of my birth. I was no longer the same woman, the naive and selfish Cressida Troy who’d been fooled into betraying humanity. That silly girl had become Nil Ilson, Empress of Space, wife to Mon Ilson, and co-leader of the Lunarians. I was no longer responsible only for myself. Thousands now depended upon me, be they hideous goblins, or those who’d “adopted” human bodies.

In the deepest recesses of my mind, where I was safe from mental probing, I knew that I’d been possessed, mesmerised into being a traitor to humanity, deceiving my fiancé, Jacob McLeary, and then killing the two greatest threats to Mon Ilson’s plans, Fleur and Horatio Cumberland.

The problem was only the agent of my apparent treachery knew that. The spirit of a murdered girl, Marjorie Gilbert. She had taken over my mind and had deluded me into believing I loved Mon Ilson, and deceived him into believing it too. She’d also tricked him into giving her advanced knowledge of witchcraft. My anger at her was tempered by the realisation she had not done this to me out of maliciousness, but so she could regain her body which had been stolen by Mon Ilson’s goblins. Because she loved me, Marjorie had confessed this, and passed on all the magical powers and knowledge Mon Ilson had given her, including the ability to hide my deepest thoughts.

That was the past. I had committed myself to saving humanity from enslavement at my husband’s hands. How I would accomplish this I did not know. I was impatient. Biding my time waiting for an opportunity to present itself was both frustrating and dangerous. Not only could I be discovered, but I ran the greater risk of letting my growing love for Mon Ilson blind me to the chance if it arose, and then could I bring myself to exploit it? That I had come to love him no longer surprised me. Over the last year I’d learned his dreams, ruled alongside him, and shared his bed. I’d seen firsthand what an extraordinary and charismatic man he was, and in other circumstances I would have unreservedly given him my heart and soul. However, those benign conditions did not exist. The reality was Mon Ilson was a murderer.

A moan escaped my lips as Mon Ilson caressed a hardening nipple. We were lying on a couch in the top deck of the royal barge, he behind me, with one leg draped over my hip. In the crease of my posterior his cock stirred.

I wiggled against him. “Make love to me,” I murmured.

“That was my intention.”

My husband deftly lifted the hem of my robe and pressed the swollen head of his cock against my quim. He gently nudged apart the moist lips and effortlessly slid inside. With a slight adjustment of his hips the tip of his cock touched that especially sensitive flesh on the roof of my cunny. Pure pleasure flooded my system.

Mon Ilson was over a thousand years old, and with countless sexual liaisons behind him he had developed techniques that ensured a woman’s complete satisfaction, and men too. He used sexual magic to bond his people to him after he transferred their spirits from their goblin bodies into the vacant husks of murdered humans, a process they termed Adoption.

When Marjorie had occupied my mind she would stimulate my senses from the inside, maximising my pleasure, and bonding me even more tightly to Mon Ilson’s influence, and made him even more convinced of his devotion to me. He had been trapped in Marjorie’s web of deceit just as tightly as I had. His hold over his people was not just through sexual magic, but the promise of eternal life. Only he could give them that. Only he could transfer their goblin souls into human bodies. That was why Marjorie stayed his servant, hoping to learn the trick. Though she had possessed me, she didn’t know how. That was the one secret Mon Ilson did not share with her. Marjorie wanted so much to live, over and over again, that she would do anything for him.

Now that she was gone from my mind, my physical reactions to his lovemaking were under my control. To overcome my natural aversion to him -- a murdering megalomaniac goblin in a human body -- I used magic to bury my repugnance, project lustful thoughts, and intensify my physical reactions.

“Fuck me harder,” I encouraged him.

His technique, with my magic, quickly filled my body with the pulsating energy that took me to the precipice of climax, a cliff edge from which I gladly launched myself, and was lifted like a skyrocket to an explosive culmination.

My response caused him to reach his own conclusion, and he filled me with his copious essence. He wanted children, and my tardiness to provide the gift was, from his perspective, the only negative aspect in our relationship. Not that he put any pressure on me -- he loved me too much, but I’d felt his need. The reality was that any unnecessary delay would need to be explained and defended. I knew of no reason to defer the inevitable any longer. Though I had control of my fertility, when and by whom I became pregnant, it was not something I expected to enjoy despite my intention to use magic to remove the more onerous aspects that plague many women. At most it would be awkward. Being with child might give me the leverage I needed to control Mon Ilson’s ambitions and hopefully mitigate the worst excesses of the invasion, if not avoid it completely.

My husband’s kisses became more fervent, and he resumed his lusty thrusts. He used his own magic to remain hard, and he fucked me to another shattering climax. Another glut of his seed filled me to overflowing, and those fireworks exploded in my head once more. We lay in each other’s arms, his cock still rigid, while our ragged breathing slowly returned to normal.

“My Lord,” Gloria said diffidently. While we recovered, she had waited by the bed, head bowed, her hands clasped before her shaven quim. Gloria had befriended me after I’d been first kidnapped. She was blonde, with caramel eyes, and a deliciously curved mouth. Like all Lunarian women who’d adopted a human body, Gloria was not only beautiful with a spectacular bosom and narrow waist, but she was also obsessed with sex. I gave her a smile, and she nodded acknowledgement. “Nil Ilson, I am so sorry to interrupt. The humans have sent a vessel beyond the atmosphere.”

Mon Ilson sat up. “Have they really?”

 

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.

 

Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

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

 

Preorder Today

Teaser Tuesday: Cressida's Betrayal (Empire of the Sky, #2) by Mikala Ash

CRESSIDA'S BETRAYAL

A Steam and Spells Steampunk Adventure

Empire of the Sky,

Book 2

Steampunk Romance

Publication Date: March 1, 2024

Publisher: ‎Changeling Press LLC

Page count: 153 pages

SYNOPSIS:

Things are going well for Cressida. Egged on by Marjorie, the spirit who has taken shelter in her mind, Jacob proposes marriage as they flee the moon and its goblin king. However bigger things are at stake, and their mission to save all of humanity is jeopardized by mistrust and magical chicanery. Sexual energy flares as the danger to the empire overflows in an orgy of lust and violence. Can Jacob and Cressida’s love survive?

EXCERPT:

Copyright ©2024 Mikala Ash

 

December 1865 -- Earthbound

Making love in the absence of gravity is a pleasure experienced by few. In this regard my beloved fiancé Jacob and I, and of course Marjorie, made full use of the three-day journey from the moon. Whenever the mood to clicket like a pair of foxes took us -- as it often did -- we’d strap ourselves into our cocoon -- the Lunarians’ term for the soft woollen bag designed to keep slumbering space travellers from drifting about – and had at it with unbridled enthusiasm.

We were not the only ones. The dozen or so “marionettes” – as Jacob termed the human bodies possessed by the spirits of goblins – also took every opportunity to experience the joy of sex. In their natural form, the small leathery-winged creatures, which resembled the ugly statues of gargoyles, were denied by their nervous systems the ability to derive pleasure from copulation. For them, the act of coitus was simply a procreational chore, and so the ecstasy of sexual intercourse that the human body provided was to them as addictive as laudanum is to opium eaters.

Thus, the mid-section of the ship presented a scene straight from a nightmare. Cocoons bolted to the metal wall jostled their neighbours as they twisted and bucked like angry caterpillars. The contortions were accompanied by a discordant symphony of grunts, groans, and ultimate cries of climactic release.

I blush to recall that Jacob and I were no different. I was in seventh heaven with his cock relentlessly sliding, piston-like, in and out of my accommodating quim, causing my heart to gallop and my breathing to quicken into ragged gasps. I wasn’t alone, of course. Marjorie was enjoying it as well, albeit deep inside my head.

Oh, his cock is so very hard, she bellowed.

She didn’t have to tell me that. I could feel every inch of his rigid shaft stretch my tight fleshly sheath. Having a ghost possess me had added a new dimension to the constant monologue people conduct with themselves in their heads. Marjorie knew my thoughts before I could even express them to myself, and she had access to all my memories as well. The most amazing fact of her residency in my mind was that she could “feel” everything I did, from stubbing my toe to the ecstasy of sexual climax, and everything in-between.

Marjorie could also massage my body from the inside, as it were, stimulating my nipples and nub, and creating the sensations that Jacob would make with lips, tongue, fingers, and cock. She was thoroughly enjoying her demise, making liberal use of this ability, and wasn’t a passive member of our unconventional ménage which united the living and the dead.

I’m not dead, she would protest. Just misplaced, and very grateful I found you.

Murdered while she was a virgin, Marjorie’s spirit had, for some unknown reason, been irresistibly drawn to me, and had possessed my body to alert Jacob and I that her corpse had been stolen from her grave. Marjorie’s body was now possessed by a goblin who named herself Esther. One of our goals once on Earth was to return Marjorie to her rightful home. We were confident that I could perform the swap, as I had successfully done the same for Jacob in the chamber of the dead on the moon.

That Esther was writhing in ecstasy in the cocoon next to us, being ploughed enthusiastically by her so-called husband Warrick, both angered and intrigued her. He’s fucking her now, she said bitterly. I wonder what his cock feels like.

“Ugh!” I groaned, as much in disgust on her behalf as from the jolt of Jacob’s thrust. A half dozen followed, and my rising excitement was reflected in the increasing cadence of my whimpers and moans.

Jacob paused, his body tensed, but not from imminent climax.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Something’s changed. I’ll have a look.”

Now that we were not wholly engaged in pleasure, I noticed that the previously muffled grunts and groans were no longer stifled, but clear as a bell. I lifted Jacob’s arm so I could see out of our woollen shell. The agitated caterpillars, not content to remain in their cocoons, had erupted like butterflies from their chrysalides. With no gravity to keep them to the floor they twisted and tumbled through the air until the space became a mass of undulating human flesh. Jacob and I remained inside our woollen bag. The thought of intimacy with stolen bodies repelled us.

I shuddered at the memory of fucking the king of the Lunarians, Mon Ilson and his concubine Gloria, but that had been in the cause of buying time and favour till our escape. I had only suffered the act by imagining I was making love to Jacob and Marjorie.

My memory of that awkward situation was suddenly interrupted by our cocoon being ripped open, and before I could react, Jacob and I were separated by gentle but insistent hands. In an instant Esther was kissing Jacob full on the mouth.

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.

 

Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

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

 

Preorder Today