Changeling: A St. Patrick's Day Romantic Comedy

By Shelby Morgen

"I don't believe in Magic."

Did he actually say those words -- out loud -- in an Irish pub, on St. Patrick's Day? Divorced and alone, Michael Matthews doesn't believe in much of anything anymore. So when he downs several mugs of Irish Stout while listening to the barkeep weave a tale of magic and intrigue centuries old, Mich's judgment might be slightly impaired.

Mich wakes up bound and naked in a Fairy's webs. He isn't really sure he wants to escape the gorgeous little creature… but what's he to do with a lover who's only five inches tall?

She's the Changeling Fairy, and she has a bag of Fairy toys -- including magical restraints and Fairy Oil -- she's just itching to try out on her captive. She's caught Mich for just one purpose -- she has every intention of spending St. Patrick's Day having wild Fairy sex with this hot hunk of an American. Just as soon as he learns to cooperate!

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Mar 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9780038800117

Book preview

Chapter One

March 17th, 1999

Carefully -- very carefully -- Arien circled the Human, staying just out of his reach. Human. Elf. Whatever he was, he was definitely male. He thrashed about, trying to break loose.

Mine.

He was hers. All hers. She’d caught him, fair and square, clamoring about in her woods on St. Patrick’s Day. Now all she had to do was keep him. Her wings flapped so fast she might have been mistaken for a hummingbird. Damn. That always happened when she was frightened.

Or excited.

In this case it might be a little of both. She wanted to get a bigger -- er, better -- look at him, but he was just not cooperating. Here he was, this perfectly fine specimen of male, laid out all naked before her, and he was fighting her! Didn’t he know anything? Most males would give their wolf teeth to be caught by her.

Which was exactly why she didn’t want them.

But he wasn’t most males. He was big, and powerful, and if he kept flailing about like that, he might actually hurt her.

Well, she didn’t know if he was big in Human terms. That was hard to judge when you were only five inches tall. But he was much bigger than she was, that much was for sure.

One arm thrashed about again, nearly breaking free this time. Quickly she aimed a bit of her magic at it. There. Just a little bit more Faerie dust -- well, Faerie silk, to be accurate -- and he was locked back in place.

Now. What to do with him?

No use to have caught him if she couldn’t mount him. She certainly couldn’t do anything with him this big. As long as he fought her, there was nothing she could do about their size ratio. Rules were rules. He had to give his consent before she could change him.

He had to kiss her.

She’d tried. But every time she got anywhere near his face he started flailing about again, despite the Faerie dust.

Well, there were no rules that said she couldn’t make him wish he’d kissed her. A slightly malicious smile settled across her tiny face. She could feel it turning the corners of her mouth up in a wicked grin. All right, big guy. If I have to be frustrated and horny because you won’t cooperate, so do you.

With no sense of remorse, Arien dug into her pot of Changeling magic.

* * *

"I don’t believe in magic."

Looking back, that was probably the stupidest thing he could have said, seeing as he was in a pub in Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day. But at the time, the simple statement seemed nothing more than the truth.

It all started when he sat down at the bar in the local pub to order an Irish Stout. The bartender’s smile looked friendly enough as he pulled Mich’s beer, but Mich could tell the man was giving him the once-over.

You’d be the new tenant on Faerie Hill, I’m guessin’.

Mich