The ancient Sorcerer Demart has found his rebellious son the perfect, fertile young bride to carry on his bloodline. The only problem is that neither the bride nor the groom want anything to do with one another! In secret, each of them has taken a fae lover - members of the mysterious forest people known as Woolgatherers. Together with their magical lovers, the betrothed couple hatch a plan to counteract the old wizard's wedding plans. There's only one problem: in order to fool the powerful sorcerer, they're going to need to switch bodies... and the wedding ceremony isn't over until the marriage has been consummated! --- “Put your arms around me,” Tyall whispered against her ear. Kara did so, and nestled into the crook of her neck. The woolgatherer continued to murmur. A warm wind kicked up around them, swirling leaves up from the earth and fluttering against their skin. Black and red hair swirled into tangles together. The human woman clung tighter as a strange dizziness overtook her. She began to lose her sense of balance as her stomach fluttered into her throat. All she could hear now was the sound of Tyall murmuring her strange song. She gasped as the world lurched around her. For several moments, it felt like she was falling through the air, turning over and over without purchase, until suddenly she jolted back to solid ground again. “Oh!” she cried out and pulled back from the embrace. Her heart was racing and her vision swam. The world felt different. Sounds were sharper, smells clearer. A naked figure stood before her, that of a short, slim, muscled woman with black hair and a steely, hazel-eyed gaze. She was staring at herself. Kara broke out in amazed laughter. Terren smiled wider from his position at the edge of the circle. Aidan turned back around, annoyed and curious. Tyall, in Kara’s body, picked up the discarded nightgown and pulled it back on. She stretched, acclimating to the new body. “Hmm,” she murmured thoughtfully, then waggled a long finger at Kara, who stood uncertainly in Tara’s lithe, tanned body. “It would seem Demart didn’t choose an untouched woman for his son.” “What?! How do you know that?” Kara’s skin turned darker in a blush. She looked to Terren, who shrugged. “I see,” Tyall’s laugh was like a bell as she winked at other woolgatherer. “You worked faster than I expected.” She walked toward a bewildered Aidan and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was still thrown that the woman who had previously hated the sight of him was now in his arms. “Don’t pull away from me, my love,” she laughed. “We are to be married!” “How… How long will this last?” he asked between kisses. “You’re suddenly so shy. It’s adorable.” “Don’t get too friendly with my body,” Kara frowned with Tyall’s full red lips. “Well, the same goes for you, kitten. I'm going to have to ask you to keep away from your little lover boy here until this business is finished. Though I understand that may be rather difficult for you to manage,” the disguised woolgatherer winked at her and glared purposefully at Terren, who looked so chagrined that Kara almost laughed out loud. Kara had never realized her glare was so effective until seeing it in action. Maybe she'd go out of her way to make Tyall eat her words.

Aidan is a brash, arrogant young wizard, and heir to his father's impressive legacy. And it's high time he be wedded to a suitable woman, to ensure the ancient line of sorcerers continues. But Aidan has a secret: a fae lover, one of the Woolgathers, an ancient race of magical forest creatures. His father would never approve of their union, and thus young Aidan harbors a bitter resentment toward the old man's matchmaking ways... Speaking of which, Kara has by now been whisked off to old wizard's family estate, where she awaits the first meeting with her unwilling betrothed. Never mind that she plans to do anything in her power to ruin her own marriage! It's not until she meets the charming, sensitive fae servant of her future husband that she finds a sympathetic ear... and starts to wonder if maybe there's something worth sticking around for after all... --- “Wait,” she tugged hard on his hand, “Terren.” He turned back toward her. His expression was wary. The nimble fingers tightened on her hand, warm and smooth. “I… have to get you back.” He lowered his violet eyes. She frowned. She didn’t understand this place, but if there was an ally to be found here, it was him. And Kara suspected something in the way he avoided looking directly at her now, and how his fingers were grazing the palm of her hand… “Why do you have to?” she asked. She stepped closer. Terren stiffened, but did not drop her hand. “You don’t like them, do you? They treat you terribly.” “The old one does indeed. Master Aiden is simply… having a particularly bad day. Regardless, I don’t mind,” his mouth quirked in a mysterious smile, but he was tight with nervous energy. She ran her other hand slowly up his chest and he flinched backward. “You’re lying.” His small smirk faded into a frown. She glared hard at him, their faces so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. His expression softened suddenly. His eyebrows quivered in a look of intrigue as he explored her eyes, nose, down to her mouth. “Do you want to kiss me?” she whispered and leaned toward him. Terren inhaled sharply, but did not move to embrace her. He looked back up into her eyes. “Interesting...” the word whispered out of him with a confident playfulness that unsettled Kara. “What is?” Terren’s long fingers stroked down her hair. He twirled a lock between his fingers. “You are.” He took her hand and turned away, pulling her after him. “Follow me.”

Alanna in a High Elven scholar who has studied the strange ways of the Dark Elves for over a century. But the uneasy peace between their people is shattered when the elf maiden is taken prisoner by her dark and twisted brethren! Alanna has long studied their forbidden practices, spent many long nights absorbed in contemplation of their sexual rites and proclivities. She shows the rumours, the whispered tales - knows them so well she dreams of them, sometimes. Always in the past, she was herself the captive, trapped far beneath the earth, waiting with bated breath and trembling anticipation for her twisted captors to come for her… Much as she is now.

Feldar is a mighty Minotaur warrior, feared and respected amongst his people. But then he draws the ire of a vengeful Elven witch... and when one of her spells goes awry, he finds himself unexpectedly trapped in the body of the sultry seductress! Soon he is captured by another group of minotaur - his own people! But the fierce warriors fail to recognize their own, and soon Feldar is taken, bound and helpless, as a slave back to his own village! Now, publicly displayed for all the village to see, Feldar finds himself succumbing to the passions of the strange new body he inhabits. But just as he begins to lose himself to throes of lust while the monstrous creatures look on, a lone minotaur enters the cage, intent on claiming the "elf maiden" for a prize... The witch herself, now wearing Feldar's skin! --- The thing that wore Feldar’s shape crouched down beside its prone captive, wrapped a massive arm around the cowering form. The creature’s bovine scent washed over her as he pulled her in close, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “You nearly defeated me, Feldar.” The creature’s whisper was hot on her cheek. She looked up into his eyes, seeing at last a familiar mocking expression, one that had sat upon a very different brow just this morning atop a certain mountain pass… “The witch!” Feldar gasped. The minotaur smiled with a slight inclination of his head. “Salindara, I am called. Though here I am known as Feldar, it appears. The witch continued with a wry smirk. “I was so disoriented I nearly tumbled down that damned mountain. The other minotaur stumbled upon me and bound my wounds, taking me for one of their own. It took but a few simple spells to conjure up the appropriate memories and mannerisms to make the illusion complete.” “But why?” Feldar’s mind reeled. “What have you to gain from impersonating me?” “Why, my pet, I should think you would understand quite well. I plan to avenge myself upon you - for ruining my wares, slaying my men, and trying to kill me. And I assure you that the vengeance of a witch is much more severe than what even your savage people are accustomed to.” The minotaur leaned in close, his teeth bared in a wicked grin. “Now that I have you in my grasp, I won’t be letting you go so easily, my pet.” Suddenly Feldar was seized in the minotaur’s powerful grasp, her body hefted into the air with effortless ease. She flailed about, but Salindara’s hold only tightened around her. “I claim this one as my prize,” the minotaur called out, “though I may be persuaded to share her after I am finished!”

Piers Anthony’s bestselling Xanth series is one of the cornerstones of fantasy, a lively and whimsical interpretation of a genre often criticized for taking itself too seriously. Anthony’s first Xanth novel, A Spell for Chameleon, was initially edited to target a more traditional audience. Now, in an eBook exclusive, A Spell for Chameleon has been reworked line by line—its language matching the simpler, playful way with words that made Piers Anthony an enduring fan favorite. Xanth is an enchanted land where magic rules, a land of centaurs and dragons and basilisks where every citizen has a unique spell to call their own. For Bink of North Village, however, Xanth is no fairy tale. He alone has no magic. And unless he gets some—and fast!—he will be exiled. Forever. But the Good Magician Humfrey is convinced that Bink does indeed have magic. In fact, both Beauregard the genie and the magic wall chart insist that Bink has magic as powerful as any possessed by the King, the Good Magician Humfrey, or even the Evil Magician Trent. Be that as it may, no one can fathom the nature of Bink’s very special magic. This is even worse than having no magic at all . . . and he still faces exile!

When a prophesy brings war to the Land of the Black Hills, Keeley Smythe must join forces with a clan of mountain warriors who are really centaurs in a thrilling new fantasy romance series from New York Times bestselling author G.A. Aiken. The Old King Is Dead With the demise of the Old King, there’s a prophesy that a queen will ascend to the throne of the Black Hills. Bad news for the king’s sons, who are prepared to defend their birthright against all comers. But for blacksmith Keeley Smythe, war is great for business. Until it looks like the chosen queen will be Beatrix, her younger sister. Now it’s all Keeley can do to protect her family from the enraged royals. Luckily, Keeley doesn’t have to fight alone. Because thundering to her aid comes a clan of kilt-wearing mountain warriors called the Amichai. Not the most socially adept group, but soldiers have never bothered Keeley, and rough, gruff Caid, actually seems to respect her. A good thing because the fierce warrior will be by her side for a much longer ride than any prophesy ever envisioned … Praise for The Dragon Who Loved Me “A chest thumping, mead-hall rocking, enemy slaying brawl of a good book.” —All Things Urban Fantasy “Aiken aces another one.” —RT Book Reviews, 4 Stars

Spice trader Cinnamon’s quiet life is turned upside down when she ends up on a quest with a fiery demon, in this irreverently quirky rom-com fantasy that is sweet, steamy, and funny as hell. All she wanted to do was live her life in peace—maybe get a cat, expand the family spice farm. Really, anything that didn’t involve going on an adventure where an orc might rip her face off. But they say the goddess has favorites, and if so, Cin is clearly not one of them. After Cin saves the demon Fallon in a wine-drunk stupor, Fallon reveals that all he really wants to do is kill an evil witch enslaving his people. And who can blame him? But now he’s dragging Cinnamon along for the ride whether she likes it or not. On the bright side, at least he keeps burning off his shirt.…