Excerpt: Unicorn Valley 1: Gryphon's Heart by Lena Austin

Unicorn Valley (Collection)
by Lena Austin
Cover art: Angela Knight 
ISBN: 978-1-59596-897-5 
Genre(s): Urban Fantasy, Collections 
Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Vampires, Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Magic
and Mayhem, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures 

Length: Collection 
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Excerpt:
After his foster brothers left, Lionel pondered what they said. He got up from
the chair, still in humanoid form, to pace as Brolly did. It helped to do
something, even if it served no useful purpose. "However lovely the Gryphoness
of the afternoon was, no matter how much I wanted to fly her, I have my honor.
However, honor makes a cold and lonely nest to sleep in. Logic demands I
approach Teema and apologize for insulting her. Our friendship earns that, at
least." He picked up a small crystal she made for him during their mage
training, merely to hold a small part of her.
"Friendship isn't what I want from Teema anymore. I want her also as a mate. The

question is, how to approach her? Could I be the aggressor? Well, yes, I can
manage that. How does one approach a Werebitch? Simply walk up and take? That
seems a bit harsh and overdone." If it weren't Teema herself he needed to
approach, he'd ask her for advice. "Blast it all, this needing a mate disrupts a

perfectly well-ordered and logical life. I'll go find Teema right now and settle

the issue like the good friends we are. Together, there might be a solution." He

put down the crystal in its place on a small table, where it caught the morning
light.
He turned to go to the cliff edge where he'd transform and fly down, but Teema
stood there already. Instead of her usual gray tunic and trousers, she wore a
green gown cut so low in front his human mouth watered. Her brown hair was loose

instead of braided, and her eyes glittered in the afternoon light. "May I come
in?" she asked.* * *Teema waited at the cave entrance for admittance, unsure of
her reception. Lionel might still be angry at being turned into an ass, no
matter what Nin-Kaa said. The three females, Teema, Kella, and Nin-Kaa, had put
their collective heads together and planned a seduction, which Kella declared
"no fail." Flying up here was no difficulty, but transforming her normal -- and
much warmer -- clothing to this excuse for a dress made her hands shake with
fear as well as cold.
Lionel gaped at her like he'd lost what wits he'd possessed before he nodded. No

wonder. He was in humanoid form, and therefore much more susceptible to emotions

and, yes, lust.
Teema glanced down at the bulge in his trews before she swept by him to go to
the fire. The thought of what that bulge represented made her wet and threw her
into heat.
Lionel realized what his body showed because he cleared his throat and stammered

like a lack-wit, "I was just going outside to transform and…"
"Find me. Yes, I know," Teema grinned. She conjured a mage fire to produce a
little heat as well as light. She'd be damned if she'd get naked and frolic
while she shivered. "You were talking to yourself."
"I was?"
"Yes, you were. I'll be happy to tell you how to approach a Werebitch if you're
interested to know. I may even show you." Teema shot him her best seductive
"come hither" look over her shoulder. "There! The fire will warm up the cave
quick as a wink, if you'll seal the entrance. It's a bit chilly if you don't
have fur or feathers to keep you warm." To make sure, she sealed the entrance
herself with a light mage shield.
Lionel sat down on the divan he kept for Shadow to sit upon. It was closest, and

he made a vain attempt to cover his hard-on with his tunic. Belatedly, he
offered, "I'd be happy to change back to Gryphon and warm you with my wings if
you wish. You should've brought a cloak if you insist on being in human form."
Teema shrugged and sat down next to him on the divan. "I didn't think of it.
Don't you dare transform. I like you this way." She reached up to stroke the
hard biceps under his sleeve. "You make an extremely attractive human, you know,

with that tawny hair like a lion's mane and those big eyes like amber. You made
this form as big and strong as a human can be without over-doing it."
"I, uh, copied Shadow a bit." He held himself rigid, as if afraid to move.
"And wisely so. However, you made the chest broader to reflect your strength of
wing. Did you do it on purpose?" She stroked a pectoral muscle to emphasize this

was no clinical analysis, no matter what her words said.
"No, it just feels more natural. Teema, what're you doing? Human form is…" His
gaze fell on the floor.
"Always in season. Yes, I know. In fact, I'm depending upon it. I'm showing you
how to be the aggressor, of course." She reached down, took his right hand, and
put it to her breast before she squirmed close enough to nibble on his ear.
"You'll show me you can be passionate, won't you?" she whispered, alternating
licks and nibbles to his earlobe with her words.
His hand cupped her breast willingly. "I think I can manage that," he purred.
"But shouldn't we wear less clothing?"
"Mmmm… good point." Teema released his earlobe and started to wriggle away, but
Lionel's large hand closed on the neck of her gown and ripped it away with one
pull.
"Is that more aggressive?" he asked, with his amber eyes wide and innocent.
Teema looked down at her naked body in the shreds of her dress, and nodded. She
was thoroughly wet with need now, from that one gesture of dominance. "That's
more like it, Lionel. Can you manage more?" she begged.
"I think so," he laughed, and pinned Teema to the seat of the divan, throwing
her backwards until her head dangled over the edge. "I'm beginning to like
this," came a soft growl before he inched forward to lap gently at one pink
nipple. One hand released her to cup that breast and bring it up to become a
mouthful.
Teema heard her own growl of response. If she could've moved, she might have
spread fully beneath him, but she was effectively pinned except for the one free

hand that crept up and fisted in his hair.
Lionel paid no attention to her hand in his hair, but nibbled and nipped, and
reveled in her tiny gasps and pants. He lingered until the nipple was swollen
and hard as the rock walls of his cave before he bit his way to the other,
nipping gently at the underside of each where the white flesh was tender. "Now
here's meat to nibble upon, but never chew," he remarked to the new pink nipple
before giving it the same treatment as its twin.
"Oh, really? We've shared many a bone between us, Lionel, but I've got a bone in

mind that also needs nibbling upon," Teema panted. She used the thigh trapped
between his legs to caress the hardness she found there, making sure he
understood her meaning.

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Excerpt: AWU-Bonds of Matrimony

All Wrapped Up 3: Bonds of Matrimony
Lena Austin
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2007 Lena Austin
An Authorized Excerpt
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some
may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling
Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the
country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where
they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
>http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=649
>A tall male human wearing ancient livery from about eighteenth century Europe
>herded them all inside into a climate-controlled hall of gargantuan proportions.
>Alex would have killed for three minutes to study the art and architecture, but
>they were ushered directly into a room where another human male lounged on a
>Greco-Roman couch, spanking a naked female.
>The female, as pale-skinned as Alex, writhed but did not appear interested in
>escape. Indeed, her blonde hair obscured her face, but her hands fondled her
>exposed breasts in sexual pleasure with every stroke of the palmetto fan paddle
>on her pink buttocks. Her gasps and soft cries of pleasure were clearly audible.
>The male, dressed only in a pair of cream-colored loose pants, was a burly man
>of truly mixed heritage. His skin was a perfect dark tan, and his musculature
>spectacular. Like Alex, he wore his black hair on his shoulders, though his was
>tied with a simple thong at the back.
>Even Alex felt a moment of desire, and he normally was not interested in other
>males. His cock hardened, and Alex glanced around at their fellow guests,
>slightly embarrassed. He need not have worried. From the glazed looks, hardened
>nipples, tented trousers, and other evidence, the sight affected all of them.
>Apparently, he wasn't the only deviant among the guests. Even his wife panted
>and squeezed his hand with every stroke of the fan.
>Their shepherd stepped forward hastily, arresting the spanker's attention. "My
>deepest apologies, Master Augustine. They did not mean to interrupt your
>pleasures. Would you prefer to greet our guests later at dinner?"
>Rendol Augustine surveyed them all with perfect calm before turning his
>attention to their guide. "No, Delos. Let them stay and watch." He smiled
>impartially at them all and gave the lovely lady another spank. "They are all
>voyeurs to a certain extent. And --" One of his fingers dipped into his victim's
>sex and came up glistening before he licked it off. "-- some get off on being
>watched."
>The blonde lifted her head to reveal perfect features and blue eyes so light as
>to be almost colorless. A rare genotype to be sure. She smiled at them all
>before putting her head back down, clearly implying she did enjoy being the
>center of the display.
>Master Augustine slapped one rosy buttock with his bare hand. "I caught Tira
>here playing in the dildo collection. Hardly a crime worth calling the
>authorities, wouldn't you say? But definitely in need of some form of
>punishment, so I chose to mete out justice on my own." He delivered another
>stinging blow to the other cheek. "Naughty girls mustn't play in the Master's
>toys without permission."
>Tira squirmed and panted out, "Yes, Master."
>Millicent leaned back against his chest, almost as if her legs would not hold
>her further. Her breaths were coming so hard and fast, Alex feared she'd faint.
>Almost automatically, his right hand fondled his wife's soft breast through her
>bikini top. Alex could claim perhaps that he reacted to the scene in front of
>him, but deep inside he knew he wanted to mimic every action that brought the
>blonde to orgasm.
>His fellow attendees seemed just as affected. Alex was not the only partner
>unabashedly fondling their mate, though he had to avert his eyes from the two
>females. Alex was a throwback enough to admit he enjoyed that display more than
>he cared to admit publicly.
>Millicent was not so inhibited. She seemed to frankly relish every act going on
>around them, though her eyes repeatedly strayed back to their host and his
>victim. Her nipples were harder than asteroids, and her breathing matched the
>blonde's panting cries for orgasm.

gt;In response to that unspoken plea, Alex rolled and pinched Millicent's nipples
>while his left hand crept inside her bikini pants to pinch her round bottom. The
>scent of female musk filled the room, fueling their passions. Alex no longer
>cared who saw them, and he doubted most sincerely if anyone else cared if the
>meet and greet with Rendol Augustine turned into an orgy.
>In fact, several of the guests removed clothing, stripping without anyone else
>batting an eyelash. Several couples hit the floor or bent one partner over the
>furnishings. The two male partners made use of a delicate footstool. Alex hoped
>the little gold and cream thing could stand the abuse. Panting and bedroom
>language filled the air.
>Millicent herself reached up and yanked on the string holding her bikini top
>around her rib cage, all the while writhing in time to every pinch he made to
>each buttock cheek. "Yes, Alex. More, please. More."
>Happy to oblige, Alex tugged at the string holding her bikini on her dark hips,
>and shoved it down until it fell to her ankles. He eyed the sofa and coffee
>table directly in front of them. The top of the sofa was softly plump, perfect
>for bending his long-legged wife over. After a short debate as to whether to put
>his wife on her back and eat her soft flesh until she screamed or put her over
>the sofa for a fuck and spank, Alex decided on the latter. After all, the
>spanking turned her on. So why not indulge her fantasy?
>Rendol Augustine's eyes seemed to glow for a moment when Alex threw his darkling
>wife over his cream colored sofa and imitated his every wallop on the blonde's
>now bright pink ass. He nodded, smiled, and slowed down to show him every choice
>of where to spank for maximum impact.
>The rest of his fellow guests indulged their own sexual preferences shamelessly.
>The slap of flesh, exhortations of, "Deeper, harder, faster," and the scent of
>sexual indulgences filled the room. The orgy was in full swing, with even Delos
>having been called upon to indulge one female's preference for two males at
>once. Their shepherd's cock slid down her throat while her partner stuffed her
>pussy with his equally hard cock. Alex hoped the furnishings in the room were
>sturdy enough, but he need not have concerned himself. Rendol Augustine owned
>the entire Class M planet. He probably gave the furniture not one second of
>thought.
>The blonde in Rendol's lap now squirmed in earnest. "Master, please! I beg
>forgiveness. Please, please fuck me. I beg for your cock."
>Millicent squeaked with every smack on her beautiful ass, but those tiny squeaks
>brought back fond memories of their student days. Alex knew that sound was
>pleasure-based, a remnant of those days when they had to be quiet or risk
>discovery. Her hand reached backwards, fumbling for his cock to fondle.
>Alex kept his aching rod out of reach deliberately. This was all about her, for
>the moment. He wanted her to beg for release, just as the blonde on Rendol
>Augustine's lap did. His discomfort was unimportant. Besides, he was having fun.
>For once, Alex was in total control, and he luxuriated in the novelty.
>Millicent and the blonde Tira groaned simultaneously. The sound echoed around
>the room from many of the participants. The slap of flesh on flesh grew in
>frequency, matching the music that filtered through a hidden sound system.
>"Can-Can" was the name, if Alex remembered his ancient art studies. The musical
>beat was perfectly matched by the sexual beat.
>With his free hand, Alex checked Millicent's readiness for sex and found her hot
>and wet, so ready in fact that she squealed when he touched her. Pleased he'd
>produced a new reaction from her, Alex slid his fingertip from her vagina to her
>clit, using her own lubrication.
>Rendol snatched Tira from his lap and stood, his pants showing an impressive
>erection beneath the thin fabric. He put the red-cheeked blonde on the floor and
>permitted her to remove his trousers. "With your teeth."
>"Yes, Master." Tira obeyed, clasping her hands behind her back and using tongue
>and teeth to perform the service.
>"Please! Oh, please!" Millicent's throaty pleas had enough desperation to excite
>any man.
>Briefly, Alex debated putting her on her knees before him, but they often did
>that trying to get him erect. He wanted nothing of their past to spoil the
>moment. These circumstances required something different. Alex bit his lip and
>risked a stinging slap on his wife's rear. "Quiet. Be still."
>"Oh!" After one jerk, Millicent turned her head to let him see one amused brown
>eye. She put her head down until her braids obscured her face. Then, to his
>astonishment, she giggled.
>"Million Dollar" Millicent Devereaux had giggled. His jaw dropped, and Alex
>tried to wrap his mind around the concept that she seemed to enjoy what he'd
>done. Alex yanked his pants down, anxious to enjoy this new development.
>Rendol's lips twitched as he caught Alex's gaze. Then he winked and grabbed a
>handful of Tira's sunshine hair. "Assume the same position as our guests on the
>sofa, Tira. Both of you ladies will be fucked together."
>Tira obeyed with such speed, Alex thought she'd vault over the back of the sofa.
>As soon as her blonde hair tumbled to grace the creamy cushions, she grabbed
>Millicent's hand and squeezed.
>Millicent, normally not demonstrative of emotions, squeezed back and exchanged a
>grin with her couch companion.
>Rendol kicked off his pants and sauntered over to join them, his eyes surveying
>the other guests with cool assessment. When he'd positioned himself behind his
>lovely victim, he grinned in a comradely fashion at him. "Shall we?"
>Alex entered into the spirit of the orgy. "Yes, let's. The ladies have earned a
>little reward, haven't they?"
>Two giggles erupted from their sun and shadow darlings. Both wriggled in
>anticipation, their sexes pinkly gleaming and ready.
>Their host virtually purred. "If they haven't, they will." He looked down at
>Millicent. "Won't they?"
>Unbelievably, Alex heard Millicent reply in a soft, feminine voice. "Yes, Master
>Augustine. Yes, Master Alex."
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PG13 Excerpt 1: Blue Rose by Lena Austin (Paranormal, Erotica, GLBT, Menage)

One of my rare full-length stories...

Blue Rose

Author: Lena Austin
Artist: Renee George

Buy Link: http://www.aspenmountainpress.com/fantasy/fantasy/blue-rose/prod_213.html

Ever read Dante's Inferno? The old boy must have a new nickname—Pinwheel—for all the turning over in his grave he's doing.   

Synopsis:

This time the tourists in Hell are a poisoned warrior princess and her two suitor princes, both of whom have secrets of their own. Their guide is not a gentle philosopher-poet, but a sassy demon with his own reasons for being their escort through all nine levels. They have to find the blue rose in the deepest part of Hell and make it into an antidote potion before the next full moon or the princess dies.  

Things have changed a little—okay, a lot—since old Dante made his visit. Hell is timeless, existing in all times simultaneously. Along the way they'll meet the Furies, a little thief named Dodger, a few gods and goddesses, and step over Satan's chewing gum and they're getting quite an education in the process.  But time is running out for the princess....

Excerpt:

At long last, her father stood, signaling with a wave that the dancing would begin. Servants rushed to obey, but Zara rescued the bowl of grapes and hid it in a niche behind a tapestry. It would serve her well to have a cool, sweet treat to see her through the hours of dancing ahead.

Defiantly, she popped another into her mouth and grinned like a conspirator at Prince Kennit when he hid a large goblet in the same niche. He leaned over to whisper, "I shall share my water, if you share your grapes."

Nodding agreement, Zara allowed her father to sweep her into his arms for the opening dance. At least dancing quickened the heart and brought a flush to one's cheeks. She would take what she could get in the way of exercise. Undoubtedly by now the stablemen had their orders to tell her that her stallion had a rock in his hoof, a sprain in his foreleg, or any other lie to forestall her riding him away, even for an hour.

No sooner did her father relinquish her hand than a dance slate was pressed into her palm by the seneschal, who'd kindly–he thought—taken a list of partners for her. She glanced down, and read quickly. No prince was permitted more than two dances in a row with her, though there were conspicuous empty spots left on the list for her to discreetly signify her choice by permitting more than two dances with any prince that caught her eye.

Naturally, Prince Bram the Perfect was first on the list. King Ragnar was making his preferences perfectly clear. She was beginning to hate that word.

Zara handed the slate back to the seneschal with a nod of thanks, and raised her arms for Prince Bram to take her back out on the floor. She ignored the tremble in her stomach, and told her fears to settle. He may be boring, but he was the best choice so far.

But her stomach did not settle. It rumbled and grew worse. Her face felt flushed and her fingertips felt as if they were ice cold. She could no longer feel her feet, and every step became an agonizingly icy stab. Zara persevered, knowing it was likely she'd caught some small illness from all the newcomers. Tomorrow, she promised herself a morning of rest.

Many of the older courtiers retired, including most of the contenders after one dance with her. The drunkards stumbled through a dance with her before being discreetly removed by the staff, and the oldsters confessed themselves quite worn out and retired from the field. Only one contender had to be threatened with being fed his balls before he stopped fondling her, so Zara thought she got off lucky.

Finally, only Prince Bram and Prince Kennit remained. Kennit took pity on her feverish face and asked that a small table be set near one of the open windows, permitting a cool breeze to dry the sweat pouring from Zara's brow.

Prince Bram, not to be outdone, fetched her grapes from their hiding place and fed them to her one by one, pausing only when she turned and shared Prince Kennit's goblet.

Finding a common subject to discuss had been difficult, for they, all three, had vastly different interests. The three of them settled on a card game made fashionable in Bram's kingdom the previous summer, and he taught them to play "Bell and Candle" with enthusiasm.

Zara noted their differing styles with interest. Bram played with reckless abandon, bluffing and making daring plays to get desired sets of matches. Kennit played with care and precision, rarely making a bluff but devastating when he did because it was unexpected. She counted the cards and noted the matches already made, and could guess at what would be dealt next. Between them, they rang the bell provided by the staff equally well.

Soon, Zara's illness began to tell upon her. She fought her wavering eyesight and surreptitiously wiped the sweat pouring from her brow, using the ruse of setting the water and grapes on the ledge of the open window to cool them as an excuse for sticking her face in the wind as much as possible, even if the breeze seemed to stick a thousand icy needles in her skin. It dried her sweat and made her appear less like an apple-cheeked peasant, didn't it?

Kennit had escorted her to the window, ostensibly to get a drink for himself from the goblet. He leaned close and whispered, "You are ill, Zara. End this charade and stop teasing. Pick Bram and have done. Go to bed. Your wedding and bedding of his perfection can wait a few more days."

Zara planted her trembling hands on the ledge and ate another grape for its cool sweetness in her hot, dry throat. The floor seemed wreathed in smoke. How odd. Was there fog and the window allowed it entry? Shame washed over her as she realized that's what both the princes thought–that she was teasing and being coy. How wrong they were! "I'm not teasing, Kennit. I can't decide." The fog rose higher, swirling around her thighs. She reached up to close the shutter, and her hand met only air.

Bram's chair scraped. "Watch her. She's going out the window!"

Kennit's hand closed about her wrist. "Stop, Zara. Stop. If you can't choose, then go to bed. None of us will die before the morrow."

Zara swayed and fell into Kennit's arms. "Pardon. Are you sure, Kennit? Why can't you be perfect too?" The fog wrapped around her and enveloped her.

His soft voice was the last she heard. "I am. I'm perfectly me, and that's all I want to be."

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