Tag Archives: LGBTQIA+

RELEASE BLITZ: Essence by Mychael Black

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Title: Essence

Author: Mychael Black

Cover Art: Angela Knight

Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Mystery & Suspense, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: Dark Romance, LGBTQ+ /Gay, LGBTQ+ /Sex/Gender Shifters & MPreg, Vampires

Series: Splintered Bloodlines (#3)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 71

Description

Bobby’s always had a thing for silver foxes. Still has. Just never expected to find the ultimate one is his fated mate.

Bobby Kirkland leads a simple life — mostly simple, considering his budding romance with the esteemed Deacon Saridan, head vamp of House Saridan.

Amid the romance and Bobby’s exploration of the BDSM lifestyle with his new mate, a string of murders leads Deacon to believe that a familiar, though certainly not kind, face has shown itself in the lands of House Saridan… and this threat proves to be an even bigger challenge than first thought.

WARNING: Adult language and situations, including BDSM

Excerpt

Essence (Splintered Bloodlines 3)
Mychael Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Mychael Black

Deacon

“How’s he doing? Fitting in okay?”

The dock foreman, Toryn, leaned against the frame of the plate-glass window we stood at as we watched the workers in the shipping area below. “Seems to be. He gets along with the guys pretty well.”

I glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “But…”

He sighed. “He struggles to stay on task sometimes, and he tends to daydream a good bit. Not a bad thing inherently, but not great when working around forklifts and eighteen-wheelers.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. The young man who’d captured my attention weeks ago was indeed a bit flighty at times. According to Cam, Bobby Kirkland had always been that way, and a diagnosis of ADHD as a pre-teen had answered a lot of questions. He needed structure and routine, in my opinion. I’d hoped working here would give him that, but he still seemed to have trouble staying focused on occasion.

The bell signaling the end of the workday rang out in the warehouse. I spotted Bobby going toward the door that led into the large breakroom where the lockers were. Beside me, Toryn snickered softly.

“I’m surprised you haven’t claimed him yet.”

I turned away from the window. “Soon.”

I followed him out of my office and downstairs. Most of the workers were already heading home, but a few — including Bobby — remained in the breakroom. Toryn patted my shoulder and went to his own locker. The others glanced over at me, and a couple of them shot Bobby teasing smirks. Even from the doorway, I saw him blush. There wasn’t any hint of jealousy with this group, thankfully. When Bobby met my gaze, I discreetly gestured for him to join me upstairs. He nodded, and I headed back up. Once I claimed him, we’d be able to speak telepathically and not worry about coworker issues. Then again, he also wouldn’t be working either, but that was a discussion for another day.

A few minutes after I sat down on the small couch in my office, the door opened. Bobby smiled, though there was a good bit of nervousness behind it. He shut the door and sat a couple of feet beside me at my urging. I twisted a little to face him and got comfortable.

“How was work?”

“Good,” he said, fidgeting a bit with his hands, like he didn’t know what to do with them. One leg bounced a little.

“Have you had any problems with your coworkers?”

Bobby didn’t answer right away, which told me everything I needed to know. I reached over and put my hand on his knee, stilling the movement almost immediately. His eyes widened for a moment, making him seem far younger than thirty-one. Of course, at my age, he was young.

“What is it? You can tell me anything, Bobby.”

He swallowed and tore his gaze from mine. I waited while he thought about whatever he wanted to say. Finally, he spoke. “Just a couple of guys who seem to think I’m an idiot.” He looked back up at me. “I’m not. I just get… distracted sometimes, hyper focused at others.”

“No, you’re definitely not an idiot. You wouldn’t be working here if so,” I said. “Have they done or said anything directly to you?”

“No, but I’ve caught a few whispers here and there,” he replied. “Not to mention the weird glances.” He shrugged and sighed. “I feel like I’m back in fucking high school, to be honest. It’s ridiculous.”

I chuckled softly and gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “I have a potential solution then, but I think we need to have a good, long talk before we go any further.”

Bobby nodded and stared down at my hand. “I honestly started to worry that this was a one-sided thing,” he muttered.

Unable to resist, I lifted my hand to cup his chin, tilting his head until I was looking into those soulful brown eyes. I stroked my thumb across his lower lip, and he let out a soft gasp. “I assure you, this is very much mutual. That said, there are details we must go over first.”

“Those details have anything to do with your necklace?”

I smiled and lifted the thin chain from under my shirt. Light reflected off the tiny handcuff pendant accented with garnets. “Indeed. How about we have dinner, and we can chat?”

“Sounds good to me. I need to let Dad and Cam know where I’ll be. I don’t have to, but it’s an old habit.”

“Absolutely, and a good one to have. Do you have any food preferences or sensitivities I need to know about?”

“I’m lactose intolerant, but that’s it.”

“Understood. Let Beau and Cam know what’s going on and then meet me in my chambers upstairs. Normally, I’d take you out, but the things we need to discuss are not for anyone else’s ears.”

His gaze shifted a bit, and I couldn’t ignore the urge any longer. Fingers gripping his chin, I tipped his head and leaned close. Bobby’s soft moan the moment our lips touched sent almost overwhelming need rushing through me. His scent — a decadent mix of soap, shampoo, and something woodsy yet sweet — filled every part of my psyche. The urge to bite flitted through my mind, but I shoved it away for now. I knew he was mine; I didn’t need to taste his blood to confirm it.

Bobby opened for me, pliant, eager, and so insanely delicious. I released his chin and cupped the back of his head, pushing the kiss into hungrier territory for both of us. Before I could lose control and take him right here, though, I made myself pull back. He grumbled, and I nipped his lower lip before soothing it with my tongue.

“Dinner,” I murmured. “I need to taste every inch of you but not before we talk.”

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy as Katherine Cook.

He’s an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and Spongebob Squarepants.

Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear from readers, be it via email or Facebook.

Website | Facebook

 

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TEASER: Convention of Dragons by Emily Carrington

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LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Polyamorous, Shapeshifters

Date Published: October 31, 2025

When duty calls, where will the heart go?

Joel’s twin has been hurt, and Joel decides to stay with him rather than
join his new lovers across the sea. But fate, and a serial killer, have other
plans.

Parisa and Noah are drifting apart and without Joel they might lose everything
they’ve built.

Can this new throuple fight together to win their happiness or will evil
triumph?


EXCERPT

 

“Hooo-elll…”

It was Parisa’s voice, but he couldn’t touch her physically or
telepathically. All Joel’s senses were blurred.

Joel wasn’t sure if he’d passed out, but everything was foggy. Not
dark, since he had no concept of light beyond the meaning of the word, but
misty. It was like the fog that clung to his face and arms, to his hearing and
sense of smell when he’d visited England thirty years ago. He’d
never forget that sensation of everything being muffled. The sound of his own
voice had been right, but the tapping of his cane tip on the cobblestones in
London had been oddly removed from the rest of him. He’d actually fallen
a couple of times in London, not because he couldn’t feel the ground but
because he had tried too hard to rely on the sound of his cane to tell him the
depth of things like cracks and steps.

Now, although the sense of being wrapped in cotton persisted, he felt even
more cut off from the world because he was really two people. He
couldn’t attend to his own movements or speech while living in
Jules’s head. Especially not when Jules was so distant from the world.
His whole spirit seemed caught up in confusion and fear. So although Joel and
Jules sometimes lived in each other’s heads for brief moments, there had
never been such a fundamental separation from physical reality.

Dimly, he could feel a hand caressing his face. He tried to reach up and catch
those fingers, but his arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. He
attempted another connection with Jules, one that would allow him to
communicate more than just his confusion and to feel Jules’s sense of
dislocation. That, too, failed.

Someone spoke then, their voice cutting through the fog. “Joel.”
It was James, the dragon guarding him. “Joel, come back. Follow me if
you’re turned around.”

He clung to those words and finally managed, by trailing after them in the
psychic world, to reestablish himself in the realm of touch, hearing, and
scent.

The person caressing his face paused and Parisa asked, “Can you hear me,
Joel?”

“Yes,” he croaked, his throat dry.

“Drink,” she answered, and he opened his mouth, unsure if he would
feel a glass against his lips or her cupped hand. He registered the water as
cool and drank as palmfuls were brought to his lips. From where he’d
heard Parisa’s voice, he’d expected the water to come from another
angle. Maybe Noah was actually giving him the refreshing liquid.

“James?” he asked between mouthfuls.

“He’s not here,” Parisa said, “although I heard him
too. It was like he somehow tapped into a telepathy that could be carried to
more than one person.”

“Are either of you hurt?” Joel asked.

“No,” Parisa answered after a moment. He wondered what caused the
hesitation. Then she explained. “Noah is shell-shocked, I think.
He’s –”

“I’m fine,” Noah said firmly. “Just… sorry
about…”

Struggling to raise his head, Joel felt hands tighten on his shoulders. He
fought down the instantaneous panic that clawed at his throat. “Unless
there’s a reason for me to be lying on my back,” he said as gently
as he could manage, “I’d rather sit up.”

The hands released him and as he sat up, crossing his legs, he felt
Parisa’s breath on his shoulder blade. He was still naked. He shivered
and instinctively pulled his legs up to shield his stomach and softer bits. He
wasn’t afraid of Parisa or Noah, but he felt vulnerable. “What
happened?”

“There was an explosion,” Noah said, and he did sound a little
shocky because his voice trembled. “Over at the other house, we
think.”

“Definitely not here,” Parisa put in. “Do either of you need
a towel? There aren’t robes in here, and I don’t think we should
leave the bathroom until we get the all-clear.”

So, that was why his bare butt was on tile. “Did you two carry me in
here?”

Again, there was that momentary pause. Then Parisa said, “I helped Noah
and carried you, yes.”

Their location made sense even if nothing else did. As far as Joel knew, the
bathroom might be the only room in the smaller house without windows.

Not like the one that had blown inward, injuring Jules.

He shivered as that realization, sent by his twin, hit him. Jules didn’t
actually know it had been a window, but he’d had glass taken out of his
arm so he’d made an educated guess. Joel said, “Soon as we can, I
need to get to Jules. Something’s seriously wrong with him.”

“Can you feel him?” Parisa asked, her hand warm on his back.

“Not now but…” He shivered again, unable to help himself.
“He was muffled, or that’s what it felt like. Like having your
head wrapped in a blanket.”

Noah began, “Did he –”

Someone interrupted, throwing open the door. “Here they are,” said
James, his voice tight.

“Good,” said a voice that came out slightly tinny. “Help is
on the way but it’s a good hour out. See if you can move them to this
building.”

“Will do.” James crouched, his voice coming from off to
Joel’s right. “Are any of you hurt?”

Joel shook his head. “I’m fine. It didn’t happen
here.” He reached out toward James’s voice, but Parisa caught his
hand.

“Agent Tavery,” she said softly, “you’re
bleeding.”

 

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host
of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily
has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate
quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her
website.

 

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

Pre-Order Today


PREORDER BLITZ: Medically Necessary by Emily Carrington

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LGBTQ Romance, Dark Fantasy, Steamy

Date Published: October 10, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press

The threat to all werewolves draws Amir and Oliver together, even as
their wounds threaten to rip them apart.

Trust is Earned (Medically Necessary 1): Amir is a General Practitioner
for magical creatures, particularly werewolves. When the leader of all
werewolves comes to him with a problem that presents like psychosis, Amir
needs help. Oliver’s nursing a grieving heart and a chip on his
shoulder. Still, when Amir asks for his help, he jumps at the chance. The
submissive wolf is beautiful.


Trust is Fraught (Medically Necessary 2): As the leader of the werewolves
sinks further into insanity, Amir and Oliver fight prejudice and time to
rescue their alpha. As Oliver and Amir are pulled deeper into the dangers of
the psychic world, their love may be the only thing keeping them sane.


Trust is Sacred (Medically Necessary 3): Oliver’s terrible secret is
eating him alive. Amir thinks purging and confession are medically necessary
for spiritual and physical well-being, but Oliver will stop at almost nothing
to hide his scars.

 

Can either of them learn to trust?

 


EXCERPT

 

Excerpt from Trust is Earned

He had tended to different members of the Tilthos and Merle werewolf packs
over the years. Being positioned in southern Erie County, located in Upstate
New York, had been the best thing he could do for his medical practice. Once
he’d finally convinced Nicholas Black of the Merle pack in Buffalo, New
York, to work with him as the werewolf equivalent of a midwife, his office was
often full to bursting with pregnant female werewolves.

And it didn’t matter one bit that he spoke Werewelsh, the native
language of most werewolves, with an accent or as only his fourth language.
For Dr. Amir Othman, the prejudice he might have encountered because of his
unusual parentage and his even more unique upbringing was all overshadowed by
one truth. He was good at his job.

That didn’t make him less nervous to meet the alpha above all alphas.
Tilthos Charles, alpha of his own pack and leader of the wolves of North and
South America, was supposedly intimidating. All of which pointed to this
truth: while Amir had healed every magical creature from djinns to kelpies,
and even two dragons, he still worried about doing or saying the wrong thing
in Tilthos Charles’s presence.

What bothered him even more was that he almost qualified as a lone wolf. A
“packless loner,” in werewolf-speak, and that was not a
compliment. He had a technical pack, run by Kreisha Alexander. When that
particular alpha threw his weight around, everyone obeyed. Thankfully, that
pack was in Washington, DC, nearly two hundred miles away. So, unless Alpha
Alexander gave him an edict directly over the phone, as opposed to in an email
or via snail mail, Amir could basically do as he chose.

Except, now the alpha above all alphas was coming to his office and would
surely demand to know why he hadn’t switched his allegiance to a pack up
here in New York. “It doesn’t have to be mine,” the most
powerful werewolf on the planet would say, “but it can’t be you
operating under your own aegis.”

So, when his assistant, Carly, sent him a message that Tilthos Charles was
here, Amir’s pulse picked up. He responded to her message, saying
he’d be in Exam Room Three in under five minutes. Then he did a deep
breathing exercise, using the five senses trick he’d learned as a young
wolf when he first realized he wanted to become a doctor and would be around
blood and anxious magical creatures.

Five things he could see. His fidgety hands. By crossing his eyes, he could
see his nose. His computer screen, which held everything his clinic had on the
alpha above all alphas. Trying to look farther away in an attempt to slow his
racing heart, he looked at the carpet in front of his desk. It was a boring
brown that didn’t hold his attention. Finally, he looked at the door
where he’d hung a poster of a Great Pyrenees, which was the closest
breed to his family’s wolf forms, which were usually white.

Four things he could hear… The thudding of his heart. The rush of blood
in his veins, which meant he was really keyed up still because even though he
was a werewolf with acute hearing, he didn’t usually pay attention to
the sounds of his own or others’ bodies. He struggled hard to refocus
and heard the buzzing of the fluorescent light in the ceiling. He needed one
more thing, so he made his chair creak. Oddly, the sound of something he could
completely control helped him breathe a little easier.

Three things he could touch… The pen in his hand, which he’d been
nervously twirling. He set it down. The feel of the chair under him, with his
suit coat slung over the back. He could also feel his toes in his shoes. He
breathed in more deeply than he’d managed so far and felt still a bit
better.

Two things he could smell… He could no longer smell adrenaline. That
was a good thing. He lifted his hand to his nose and smelled the soap
he’d washed with maybe ten minutes ago.

And one thing he could taste, which was his cold lavender matcha latte.

Glancing at the clock icon on his computer, he saw it had been almost three
minutes. Well, it was now or never. He doubted he’d be calmer if he sat
here longer. So, he stood, straightened his white medical coat, and left the
office. He listened to people talking quietly in the waiting room as he
passed. He smiled at Carly, who mouthed, “Good luck.” Then he
knocked on the door of Exam Room Three.

“Please come in.”

The voice that had responded was lightly accented, and he wondered why no one
had ever told him Tilthos Charles was Hispanic. Then he was in the room, and
he saw there were two people inside. The werewolf was certainly Tilthos
Charles and the psychic vampire… Oh, yes. Tilthos Charles’s mate
was a psychic vampire.

The alpha wolf sat on the exam table and his mate stood at his side. It was
actually the psychic vampire who moved first, holding out his hand. “Dr.
Othman, I’m Luis McLaughlin.”

Amir shook with him and then offered his hand to the burly werewolf. He saw
the wolf’s eyes flicker quickly down to his hand and then away. Then his
hand was taken and Tilthos Charles said, “Please to meet you, Dr.
Othman.”

He sounded it too, but there was something bothering him. Well, and
didn’t that make sense? Folks who were completely healthy rarely came to
the doctor’s office.

“The pleasure is mine,” Amir returned, smiling at both of them.
Then he retreated until he could sit on his stool. He watched Tilthos
Charles’s eyes try to focus on him. “Forgive me, but while I have
some information about your general health, I know very little about your
visual impairment.”

He saw his guess had been right, that the alpha above all alphas indeed had
something wrong with his vision.

“I told you he’d know,” said Luis as his mate brought out a
folded white cane from behind his back.

“Forgive me the test, Dr. Othman,” said Charles, “but
I’ve been seen by too many doctors who miss the obvious until I point it
out to them.” He settled the cane on his leg, keeping one hand on it so
it wouldn’t fall. “We’re here today, not because of my
visual impairment, which has been unchanged since I was born, but because Luis
is convinced there’s something…” He hesitated.

Luis said, “He’s distracted and agitated.”

Amir watched Charles’s nostrils flare and his pupils dilate.
“I’m on edge because Agent Sowerby’s… Shit. I must be
off-balance somehow if I’m about to spill state secrets.” He
smiled ruefully at Amir. “Forgive me. Luis is right. I just can’t
figure out how you’ll help me or if there is any help for the mess
we’re about to be in.”

“May I examine you?”

Charles nodded.

Amir went through all the basics, including sending the alpha werewolf out to
give him a urine sample. When the door closed, he turned to Luis. “How
long has he been on edge?” He could smell the wolf’s almost panic.

“About three weeks. “

“Did anything precipitate his anxiety?”

Luis sighed. “I’m not sure what’s really private. I assume
you’re bound by medical confidentiality?”

“I am.” He could see the psychic vampire hesitating. “Please
tell me everything you can. I cannot be effective while only possessing half
the facts.”

“My mate holds the belief that the head of SearchLight is going to
expose all magical creatures.”

Amir’s mouth went dry. “I know Tilthos Charles probably has the
ear of SearchLight. Is he correct?”

“Absolutely not, but I can’t convince him of that.”

“Has he talked to…” He couldn’t remember the name of
the new head of SearchLight, only that Agent Weinberg had stepped down.

“I’ve tried getting Jack Sowerby to talk to him. No dice. Not that
Agent Sowerby wouldn’t, but Charlie didn’t believe him.”

Amir held up his hand. The bathroom door had creaked open. He turned his head
toward the exam room’s entrance for good measure.

Tilthos Charles entered. “Your assistant took my sample.”

Amir said soothingly, “Please, Alpha, sit down.”

He saw his words had the opposite effect to what he’d intended. Instead
of resting on the table again, Tilthos Charles drew himself up. He was taller
than Amir by half a foot and intimidating as hell.

Sitting on his stool, making himself as nonthreatening as possible, Amir put
his hands palms up on his thighs. “I mean you no harm.”

 

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host
of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily
has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate
quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her
website.

 

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

Pre-Order Today


PREORDER BLITZ: Spellbound by Mychael Black

Posted on by

 

LGBTQ Romance, Vampires

Date Published: October 3, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press

A ritual decades ago leads Beau to the one person he never expected to
meet: his fated mate.

Detective Beau Kirkland has to work directly with the local vampire house to
find a murderer, but that’s the easy part. The difficult part? His attraction
to Garrett Dawson’s, one of House Saridan’s top hunters.

Garrett Dawson’s methods are brutal but very effective, even for a vampire.
When a mortal detective begins working with House Saridan, Garrett finds
himself unable to ignore the attraction between them.

 

EXCERPT

Garrett

There were few things I truly loved in this world, and one was currently in my
hand as I took the elevator up to the fifteenth floor of Saridan Tower. No one
else shared my addiction to the most amazingly sweet coffee concoction
currently sending copious amounts of caffeine through my system. I stepped off
the elevator on the top floor and headed down the hall to the usual conference
room. I didn’t get any farther than the doorway, though. I simply froze, body
alternating between hot and cold.

Normally, these meetings were just the three of us lead Venari and Deacon.

Not today, apparently.

Beau Kirkland looked up at me, eyes wide for a moment. No one said a word —
not even Deacon. Somehow, I got my feet to move and sat opposite the omega
cop. It took more effort than I really had this morning to focus on work and
not the stupidly hot human across from me.

I didn’t go for twinks like the others. I liked my men older, more
experienced. Beau fit that requirement with ease. His short brown hair bore a
little bit of gray here and there, and his dark chocolate-colored eyes studied
me whenever I glanced at his face. He was a few inches shorter than my own
six-three, and unlike most omegas, he was a bit muscular due to his job.
Dressed in his dark navy uniform, he presented the most fucking delectable
package on the planet. I cursed silently and tore my gaze from his when all
blood began rushing south.

Deacon cleared his throat and looked at each of us. “I’m sure you all know one
another, but for protocol’s sake, I’d like to introduce Officer Beau Kirkland.
He’s our liaison within the police department. He’s also the one handling this
latest case on their end. Officer Kirkland, these are my head Venari: Nikolai
Hart, Victor Pace, and Garrett Dawson.”

Beau nodded. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

We exchanged the usual pleasantries before Deacon continued. “I’m stepping
back for now,” he said, glancing at me briefly, “but I’m here if needed. To
that end, the table’s yours, Officer Kirkland.”

“Thank you,” Beau said. He handed each of us several folders. “Eight victims
so far, all completely drained. Eyewitnesses have seen the perp in passing,
but no one can agree on a description.”

“Could be a Lupyn,” Vic said as he flipped through the contents of one of the
folders.

“That was my assumption, but you all know far better than we do if that’s the
case.”

I went through the first folder in front of me. Crime scene photos, pics of
the victims post-mortem, notes, and statements. I scanned over everything and
couldn’t disagree with the shapeshifter idea. It would make sense.

“What do you need from us?” Nik asked Beau. “We’re more than happy to work
with you and your folks.”

I’m not sure I would’ve gone that far, but we did need to get this monster off
the streets. I might not have been particularly nuts about humans, but that
didn’t mean I wished them dead. My methods were saved for my own kind.

Beau passed out papers to us. “These are the last few places he was sighted.
He’s a vampire, so we humans are outgunned here. We can help corner him, but
capture is a different story altogether.”

Nik nodded. “Agreed. Well, we’re here and ready to go hunting.”

I didn’t miss the slight grimace on Beau’s face before he managed to school it
into something more neutral. Apparently, neither did Deacon, but the man just
remained silent.

“Thank you,” Beau said. “Please keep me updated on everything. In the
meantime, I’ll be at the station downtown, trying to narrow our possible
location leads.”

“Thank you for coming to us,” Deacon said. “I guarantee we will be in touch.
These guys are my best hunters, and I have no doubt they’ll find this son of a
bitch.”

Despite the situation, Beau smiled. “Thank you very much.”

The others left the room, though Beau shot me a cryptic look before stepping
out the door. I stayed seated, knowing Deacon had something to say. Sure
enough, as soon as we were alone, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Is this going to be an issue?”

I could’ve played dumb, but he already knew everything. There wasn’t any
point. “No. I’m fully capable of working with him.”

Deacon raised one eyebrow. “Really? Because pheromones say otherwise.”

I managed to avoid scowling at him. Lupyns were more sensitive to things like
that than Venari. “Unlike Nik, I’m perfectly capable of keeping my dick in my
pants, Deacon.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He was far older than us, and being
under his scrutiny made even me feel like a scolded kid sometimes. “Don’t let
it get the best of you, Garrett. His job involves danger, and you can’t
protect him from that unless you’re mated and bonded completely.”

“Who said I was –” I snapped my mouth shut at his glare.

“I’m old, not an idiot.” Deacon leaned forward and put his arms on the table.
“Either fight this until the perp is in custody or fucking claim Beau. I can’t
have you out there distracted. Understood?”

“Yes,” I replied, biting back a growl.

“Good. Dismissed.”

I stood abruptly, grabbed the folders and paper, and left the conference room.
I made it halfway down the hall before Nik and Vic both cornered me. Fuck.

“That didn’t go well, did it?” Vic asked.

“No,” I snarled.

I continued walking, and they followed me to the elevator. I stabbed the DOWN
button and had to unclench my fist before I gave into the urge to hit
something. In the door’s reflection, I saw Nik and Vic exchange cautious
glances.

We all stepped into the elevator and took it to the lobby. Without another
word said, it was a given where we’d wind up. Colby’s was the city’s best
diner with the most amazing coffee blends. Maybe the combination of carbs,
sugar, and caffeine would calm me down because just the thought of claiming
Beau sure as fuck wasn’t doing it.

Quite the opposite, actually.

I was hard as a fucking rock.

 


About the Author

Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay
romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy
as Katherine Cook.

He’s an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy
nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and
Spongebob Squarepants.

Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear
from readers, be it via email or Facebook.

Author on Facebook

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Old Ghosts by Janina Franck

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Old Ghosts
Janina Franck
(Saoirse Kennedy, #1)
Publication date: October 7th 2025
Genres: Adult, Crime, LGBTQ+, Suspense

Notorious crime boss Saoirse Kennedy finds herself entangled in a web of mystery when she receives orders to eliminate a detective and faces the resurgence of her haunting past.
In the midst of this city plagued by crime, Detective Lily Rose sets out to apprehend Saoirse, but their paths intertwine when a new, sinister force emerges, prompting an uneasy alliance to protect their city.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

Two more men were already waiting for her in the large entry hall, dressed the same as the guards outside, pointing their guns at her.

Saoirse smiled her best cheerful smile, raising her hands in resignation and slowly advancing toward them with carefree steps. “Now, boys, that’s no way to ask a lady to have tea.”

As expected, they barely responded with more than a low growl.

“All I want to do is talk to Garrison. Look, I didn’t even bring a gun.” She gestured to her hips, clad in tight black jeans, wearing an equally tight leather jacket over her olive-green T-shirt.

Her having come unarmed obviously came as a surprise to the guards, because for just a moment, they glanced at one another in an attempt at wordless communication. That rookie mistake was all Saoirse needed. She dashed forward, keeping her body low, and ducked underneath the gun one of them was holding, ramming her head into his ribs. He not only stumbled backward, but he fell, his gun clattering onto the floor. By the time it was in Saoirse’s hands, the other man’s gun was pointed at her again, while hers was aimed at him. However, after a moment’s reflection, she moved it from him to the unarmed man on the floor.

Still smiling, she tilted her head to one side. “I’m sure your boss wouldn’t care if I killed him. But would you? Willing to risk it?” She paused to let her words sink in. Then she repeated her earlier statement. “All I want to do is talk to Garrison. Are you gonna let me go up those stairs, or does he need to die first?”

Her eyes were on his, unblinking and firm. Now it all depended on whether he knew who she was. Though, judging by his glance from her to his partner on the ground, he had a fair idea. Excruciatingly slowly, he lowered both his gun and head.

“There’s a good boy.” Saoirse beamed at him and pranced past him and up the stairs. Except for the guy manning the computers, Garrison wouldn’t have any more security in the building. He didn’t like having too many people around. It made things too confusing, and it lost a significant amount of class.

She had barely made it to the first landing, when she heard the click of a gun’s safety. Dropping her body to the ground immediately, she twisted and fired. The guard’s shot missed her by several meters as her own hitting his arm threw off his aim. Instead of retaliating further, Saoirse sprinted up the last steps of the stairs, and determinedly kicked down the door to what she knew to be Garrison’s office. He wouldn’t change it. Not when it had the perfect view across his grounds and ideal lighting from its positioning.

She was right.

He sat at his desk, facing the door, looking very grave.

“Saoirse,” he said, his tone level. He wore a navy suit today, and a light grey, almost silver tie. His brown hair was brushed and perfectly parted at the side, and his beard neatly trimmed. His hands were clasped together, his elbows stemmed on the table.

“Hello, Luis, old chap,” Saoirse responded. “Mind if we have an uninterrupted chat?”

Author Bio:

Janina is a nature-loving story-addict who may have tea and chocolate running through her veins. Guided by her daydreams, she started writing stories at a young age and never really stopped. Now living in Ireland, she loves to try new things and experience adventures, both real and imagined.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram


GIVEAWAY!

Old Ghosts Blitz

—

TEASER: Consortium of Dragons by Emily Carrington

Posted on by

LGBTQ, Shapeshifters, Polyamorous

Date Published: September 12, 2025

Two dragons are pulled into a murder mystery when their lover is
targeted.

 

The blind grandson of the world’s most powerful dragon matriarch wants a
male and female dragon in his bed. He’s bold enough to get what he
wants. Unfortunately, so is the serial killer hunting his family.

A male-female land dragon couple long for their matriarchal society to be
equal across the board. As they fight for their needs, they meet the water
dragon who will change their lives.

Now a serial killer has these three in his sights.

EXCERPT

There had been another death, this one of a female dragon Joel had never heard
of. She was a distant relative, though, a water dragon who lived in Central
America, trying to stay under the radar, as it were, by thriving in the
coastal waters of Costa Rica. Or at least she had been thriving. Lady
Claudette had called to warn their mother to keep Joel and Jules close.
“Rumor has it this monster is on the move north again.”

Joel Junior, whose name was pronounced in the Spanish style, Ho-el,
hadn’t actually meant to disregard his grandmother’s orders, but
his twin, Jules, was out swimming and Joel didn’t want anything to
happen to him. Jules was an impulsive dragon, and he would have probably gone
swimming even if he’d been there to hear the phone call.

With Jules most likely already in the water, Joel couldn’t use his sense
of smell to find his twin. Instead, because Jules wouldn’t give a crap
about a telepathic sending — wouldn’t bother to reply, in other words
— Joel stripped on the Alaskan shore, shivering slightly even though it was
May and the ice here had largely melted. He assumed his scaly form, all eight
feet of sapphire-blue scales, and walked into the water. For humans, he
understood, this would have been a Polar Swim despite the fifty-degree
weather, but for him, it felt like coming home. Eyes open but blind, he
submerged completely and used his other sense, the one honed by years of
blindness and necessity, and sought his brother’s large presence in the
water. It was almost like sonar, but not quite, being a combination of sound
and psychic sense.

He encountered a pod of orcas closer in to shore than usual. He knew them to
be members of the dolphin family rather than narwhals because of the amount of
water they displaced. Orcas were almost twice the typical narwhal’s
length. Now using his telepathy because the sea mammals disrupted his ability
to “listen” to the water beyond them, he reached beyond them to
see what had driven them toward the land. Orcas weren’t afraid of much.

He found his brother and another dragon devouring a school of fish. He swam
toward them, giving the pod a wide margin even though he wasn’t a threat
to them. Either the orcas could sense the dragons’ magic or they knew
something the dragons didn’t know about the deeper water. With the
enigmatic and relatively new interlopers into the Alaskan waters, it was hard
to tell. Unlike narwhals, which had shifters among their numbers, Joel
didn’t know if that was true of any other sea-going mammal.

He approached and recognized the shape of his brother’s mind. He sent
out a blast of sound, a snort through his nose, and realized the other dragon,
whom he’d taken for their friend Jean Pierre, was a female dragon. His
brother wasn’t hunting, then, or not just hunting. Like Joel himself,
Jules was bisexual, although he mostly flirted only with female dragons.

Jules snorted back at him and flicked his tail, stunning several fish. These
he gobbled up before heading farther out into the bay. The female dragon went
with him.

Joel vaguely recognized her as a distant cousin and wondered at his initial
assessment. Water dragons weren’t exactly inbred, but they were
connected by strong ties that meant they couldn’t lightly date those who
might even bear a strand of similar DNA.

Deciding his brother wouldn’t listen just now, and telling himself no
dragon had yet been accosted while in the water, he used his sense of the
current to lead him back toward land.

Surfacing, he shifted back to human and walked out of the Arctic Ocean. If any
human had seen him, doubtless they would have screamed, or run to get him a
blanket. But there were no humans here in this part of Alaska. Sparsely
populated as the state was, this little cove and the land that touched it was
private property, where no one except the sons of Lady Nicole and all the
servants played. Joel’s and Jules’s grandmother hadn’t even
been here, afraid as she was that whoever was killing members of her family
would find their way here.

Joel used to wonder if she thought he and his twin, nearly seventy years old,
couldn’t take care of themselves. Yes, they were blind, but, no, that
didn’t make them helpless. The two of them hadn’t been permitted
to leave the area around the palace for over a dozen years.

He made his way to the large rock where he’d left his white cane. But
when he was a stone’s throw from the place he always used to hold his
clothes and cane, he sensed someone there. He paused, listening. He heard
nothing. He reached out telepathically and found a shielded mind that he
didn’t recognize.

“You’re Joel,” the stranger with an American accent said,
although he pronounced Joel’s name correctly.

Wary, Joel took a step back. Despite his bravado of a moment ago, he was
anxious. This male dragon was a stranger to him.

Male dragon? He processed that knowledge, realizing he’d gained as much
from scent as psychic feel. “Who are you?”

“I guess I’m your uncle.”

That didn’t comfort Joel, not in the slightest. “What are you
doing here?” Was someone in their family killing other dragons?
He’d heard stories of dragons who ate others of their kind.

He tried to calm himself. If this was indeed the one stalking his family, he
sounded awfully casual. Not at all like a serial killer, in other words.
Although, beyond reading braille books and listening to the television crime
shows, how would Joel know what a mass murderer sounded like?

“I’m trying to decide if I’m really the best person to be
guarding you and your brother.” He shifted on the rock, the sound of
denim scraping against granite making Joel take a second step back.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Taking out my cell phone. It’s time I let your mother know her
defenses were easier to breach than she thinks.”

Joel gained his eight feet of height, putting on his scales. If this was the
one who’d been threatening his family, the last thing Joel wanted to do
was present him with an easy target. He channeled all his telepathic ability
into a single word and sent it to Jules. Danger. Then he settled himself for
hand-to-hand fighting.

“Why are you…” The other male dragon sounded flummoxed.
“I’m not a threat to you. I’m here to protect you.”

 

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host
of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily
has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate
quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her
website.

 

Author Links

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today

BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: How to Date a Prince by Haden Stone

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How to Date a Prince
Hayden Stone
Publication date: July 15th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

What happens when the British Crown Prince falls in love with an American man who opposes the monarchy?

Prince Auggie swears he’s no kind of dashing prince: daydreamer, private—and also secretly very gay. He’s instantly horrified when his father, reality TV addict King James, signs Auggie up for a reality TV show to promote the monarchy, where the man with the most talents wins—and to help find Auggie a bride, the very last thing Auggie wants. But duty calls.

When Auggie finds out his co-star is irritatingly gorgeous Thomas Golden, the charismatic dual American-English heir to the Golden hotel fortune, it’s another step too far. There’s at least one problem: Prince Auggie’s already recently crossed paths with Thomas Golden one disastrous night in a London club. Plus, there’s that whole second not-so-small, not-so-secret problem—the Golden family wants to get rid of the monarchy.

Once Auggie and Thomas arrive on set in the English countryside, it’s already unapologetically hate at first sight. It’s going to be a very long summer of filming…until sparks fly behind the scenes, leading them to make a searing heatwave all their own. But soon, real reality strikes, and Auggie must choose between the life he’s destined for as the future king—or dare risk everything for love.

An enemies-to-lovers, opposites-attract, feel-good gay royal rom-com.

For fans of Red, White & Royal Blue, Boyfriend Material, and The Unlikely Heir.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

In my next life, I’ll be reborn as Harry Styles. Or maybe as the reincarnation of Taylor Swift. I’ll still be famous if I must, but I’ll be famous due to my talent instead of my chance birth as a royal. I’m quite sure I’m a negative ten on the talent-o-meter.

Everything else is just genetics. And training.

It’s Friday night in London, and Mayfair glitters. When I step out of the black SUV, straightening to my full height, I pause in the drizzle for the cameras on the red carpet at the charity ball. Snapping shutters echo, and a familiar blinding flash dazzles my eyes.

I give my best public smile and stop in a flattering pose, then strike another pose for my best angles like the Danish prince once taught me during a secret fling. Work it, babe, Prince Theodor coached me then as we drank spicy margaritas, which incidentally led to more spice.

More confidence, more sultry. Hand on my hip and a three-quarter turn to the cameras.

The crowd cheers their approval as I’m blinded by the lights. I wave, smile broadly, and carry on, mindful of not tripping over my own feet.

“Prince Auggie! Over here!”

“Prince Auggie—where’s Katie? I’ll be your date!”

“Prince Auggie, come back!”

Tonight, I’m shamelessly selling the image of charming Prince Auggie, future British monarch. I’d like to meet him too, to be honest, because he’s great in the press. Cool guy. From the outside, he has it together. The media and public are fascinated, so somehow, I must be doing something right. Or quite possibly, I’m doing something wrong enough that the media sticks to me waiting for my next mistake.

I’m all kitted up in an edgy mohair tux that an up-and-coming London designer sent over to me. I’m at least looking the part of the dashing prince, even if I can’t get over the idea that the dashing prince is supposed to be me.

To be fair, I do look good enough, taking after my mum—see genetics above—though I wish I loved crowds like she had. The looks balance out the panic, my friend Gav told me. He said it’s heaps of fun not knowing what I might blurt out next. For him, maybe. Meanwhile, I try to keep my mouth shut as a preventative measure in case something messy accidentally spills out.

“Prince Auggie, is it true you’re still single?”

“Prince Auggie, would you take a photo with me? It’s my birthday!”

I pause and go to the young woman at the barrier for a photo taken by her friend. The paparazzi goes wild. We both grin, and for a moment, I pretend I’m carefree. “Happy birthday,” I say, on my best behavior as she gives a small curtsy. “How do you do.”

She blushes, too tongue-tied to speak.

My father, the King, told me not to be too extra tonight, as if he can sniff out rising rebellion like the dawn breaks each day. I’m kind of horrified that he knows what being extra means. And that he’s applied being extra to me, specifically. Nothing good can come of that. Especially when I’ve been on my best behavior the last few months.

Which is why I asked the stylist at the earlier magazine shoot I’m coming from to give me a smoky-eye look for evening, after we bonded over our favorite makeup. She tousled my medium-length, light reddish-brown—blond if you’re generous during the summer—hair with product. Plus, a touch of contouring never hurt anyone. Use those cheekbones for the good of the kingdom, she told me, because it’s your royal duty to the people.

Author Bio:

More animal than mineral, Hayden Stone is a writer of fun queer fiction, especially with kissing. He currently lives in Victoria, Canada, and has previously lived in Vancouver, Canada and London, UK. He likes strong coffee and is owned by two cats. You can find out his latest news on Twitter or Instagram, or at his website: haydenstonebooks.com

Website / Goodreads / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok


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—

RELEASE BLITZ: Burn by Mychael Black

Posted on by

 

Author: Mychael Black

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Mystery & Suspense, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: Dark Romance, LGBTQ+ /Sex/Gender Shifters & MPreg, LGBTQ+ Gay, Vampires

Series: Splintered Bloodlines (#1)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 77

Description

Humans and vamps were never meant to be mates, but an accidental meeting changes everything.

Cam Sharpe is just trying to make ends meet. Living in the city can easily break the bank, but that’s where the jobs are. It’s also where crime runs rampant. One night, he finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, putting him in the crosshairs of the city’s ruling vampire coven.

Nikolai Hart loves his job — maybe a little too much. When hunting a rogue proves to be a pain in the ass, he’s the one House Saridan brings in to find the unfortunate soul. The latest job, however, has hit a snag: a mortal has witnessed everything.

Excerpt

Burn (Splintered Bloodlines 1)
Mychael Black
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Mychael Black

Cameron

I hated living in the city. There were too many people, most of whom couldn’t drive worth a damn. I barely managed to dodge a car that threatened to sideswipe me. I thought the asshole driver shouted something, but I just tossed the man a one-fingered salute. Rain pelted the city, which made deliveries a bit more complicated, especially on a bicycle. Still, the bike afforded me the chance to make it into tight spots a car could not. Traffic was a bitch, but that was city life. I’d been here for three years now and had managed to escape the need for a car. The exercise was good, at any rate.

I reached the towering apartment building and secured my bike to a lamppost. The expressionless doorman stood at the front. Dressed in a black tux, complete with white gloves, he fit right in with the building’s occupants.

Once inside, I flashed my badge hanging on its lanyard to the guard behind the desk and continued toward the elevators. A few well-dressed residents gave me a bit of the good ol’ side-eye, but I ignored them. Hell, I’d probably delivered dinner to them half a million times.

The elevator doors opened, and I held it for the others. When they didn’t move to enter, I shrugged and stepped inside, letting the doors close before they could change their haughty minds. I watched the display tick through the floor numbers until it reached the seventh floor. As soon as I exited, I heard music.

Down the hall, an apartment door opened, and a half-naked man waved. I met him and handed over the food.

“Wanna join?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Thanks, man, but I can’t. Still a few more hours before I can officially ‘clock out’ for the night.”

“You clock out?”

“Not really. I set my own hours, but this pays the bills, so, yeah, set times and all.”

“Ah.”

Shouts from inside cut the chat short. “Well, thanks!” the guy said, holding up the bag.

“No problem.”

Alone in the hall, I went back to the elevators. Thank the gods the tips were included in the app when ordering.

Back down on the street, I sighed. I wished I could stop for the night. I was tired, utterly sick of the damn rain, and hadn’t eaten in several hours. The sun had already set enough to make the streetlights come on along the sidewalks. I rolled the bike a few feet away from the lingering crowd and headed off to my next pick-up.

People swarmed the streets, most of them club hoppers. I’d done that years ago but had outgrown it. Random hook-ups in dark corners no longer satisfied me, but in a city this big, I wasn’t sure I’d ever find anyone who would. Most of the people I’d met so far were superficial and vain, perfectly content to spend a night getting laid by one person before moving on to the next.

An order came in, and the GPS piped up to let me know there was a shortcut to the restaurant. Happy to avoid the crowd, I turned down the alley the GPS designated. I ignored the few slumped figures along both sides. I’d learned the hard way a couple of years ago after a mugging not to carry cash. Now I only carried my ID, keys, phone, and a trusty can of mace.

The end of the alley branched left and right. The GPS told me to go left. Just as I started that way, commotion to the right startled me.

A tall, black-clad figure landed feet-first onto the wet pavement and grabbed a man from the ground. The man choked and struggled as the stranger spoke, voice low enough that I couldn’t hear what was said. Whatever it was, though, seemed to terrify the man he held captive.

The stranger growled — literally growled — and tore the man’s throat wide open with his fucking teeth.

I nearly wrecked the bike trying to get away. I pedaled as fast as my legs could, and the burn was almost too much. I reached the Chinese restaurant and stuck as close to the building as possible. After a few seconds of struggling to catch my breath, I locked my bike to a lamppost before heading inside.

I had zero doubt that I’d just seen a vampire executing someone. Vamps weren’t unknown, but they tended to keep to themselves. They also weren’t anything like what stories and movies portrayed them to be. Real vampires weren’t undead; they were an entirely different species. Stronger, faster, and far more deadly than any human could ever dream of being.

Safe in the restaurant, I shot a quick glance back out the door. Whatever I’d just witnessed wasn’t my business. Not like cops would do shit anyway. Vamps governed themselves, and the police were scared shitless of them.

Pushing it out of my mind for now, I shuddered and headed to the counter. Ten minutes later, I was on my way to the drop-off point. Despite needing the money, I ended my shift after handing over the food. Just before I left the area, though, I caught sight of the stranger from the alley. Those eyes locked onto mine.

Hopping onto the bike, I made a beeline for my tiny efficiency apartment. It wasn’t much, but it had a wonderfully huge deadbolt on the door.

I leaned back against the door as soon as I locked it. Eyes closed, I tried to get rid of the images from the alley. It wasn’t the first crime I’d seen in this damned city, but it was definitely the first time a vampire had been involved. At least that I knew of, at any rate.

“Get a grip, Cam,” I muttered. “Not the first, won’t be the last.”

I pushed off the door and tossed my keys onto the narrow bar separating the kitchenette from the living area. I couldn’t even call it an actual room, really. The only true room was the bathroom, and even that was about the size of a small walk-in closet. Overall, the place wasn’t much, but it was home and, to be honest, all I could afford.

Before I could contemplate dinner or a shower, my grumbling stomach made up its own mind. A quick glance in the fridge, and then the freezer, reminded me that I needed to hit the store down the block sooner rather than later. I didn’t cook, despite knowing how to, since it was just me here. Most of my meals tended to be sandwiches or frozen dinners, or, if money allowed, something quick while I was working. Tonight, though, peanut butter and jelly would have to do.

A few minutes later, I settled onto the futon that doubled as my bed and watched the news on my only splurge: a smart TV. I nibbled on my meager dinner as one report after another went on. I popped the last bite into my mouth, only to nearly choke on it.

The same dark-clad figure I’d seen in the alley was positioned behind one of the head vamps in the city during a news conference that, according to the info at the bottom of the screen, occurred earlier today. The muscle-bound watchdog stood ready to spring to action at the slightest hint of trouble.

Pitch black hair hung over broad shoulders, and the man’s five-o’clock shadow covered a stern, tight jawline. Eyes that looked almost as black as his hair seemed to scan the entire room. Though he kept his hands behind him, I could imagine those strong arms tensing. And he was tall. Jesus, he was fucking tall. Even more than the vampire in front of him. A morbid desire to stare up into those insanely dark eyes swept through me.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. Vamps are fucking trouble.”

I changed the channel and found a nature documentary instead. Maybe watching meerkats would cleanse my brain of insane ideas like wanting to unwrap all those muscles.

Gods, I was nuts.

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy as Katherine Cook.

He’s an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and Spongebob Squarepants.

Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear from readers, be it via email or Facebook.

Website | Facebook

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: Little Did We Know by Cara Dee

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Little Did We Know
Cara Dee
(The Mclean Tales, #1)
Publication date: July 11th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

The Mclean Tales #1 • BDSM • Friendship • Found Family • Humor • Origin Story

At Mclean House, everyone knows about the eight founding members. If you need help with anything in the community, you send them a message or approach them at the house. Lucas is the kind Daddy Dom with patience for days, Macklin the funny switch who sure knows how to switch sides as well, and Greer is the primal Master with a huge heart and a devil on his shoulder. Colt has that devil on his shoulder too, actually. Lucian, another Master, is into high protocol and creative punishments. Penelope loves to host events and runs a tight ship. Last but definitely not least, the men who came up with the idea to start a community. River and Reese are the scary, sadistic twin brothers—until you get to know them and see the sweethearts under the ink, of course.

The eight founders find their happily ever afters in the Game Series, but this book isn’t about that. It’s about what happened before. The story very few know so far. How they met, how they became friends, and how they started exploring together.

So let’s go back to the beginning. It’s a cold night in Baltimore, and Lucas is about to catch the scowl of someone at an event where he feels completely out of place.

Author’s note: Are you new to the Game Series? This is the perfect book to jump right in and get to know the main characters.

Disclaimer: No fighter pilots or Marines were injured by each other’s insults in the making of this book, River apologizes in advance if he offended any vampires or people from Chicago, and Lucian solemnly swears that his cleaning service didn’t find anything embarrassing at his place after the night they all remember, except possibly something that belongs to Greer.

Disclaimer two: Sorry for lying. River isn’t apologizing for anything.

Goodreads / Amazon / All Retailers / Direct from Cara

—

EXCERPT:

“I’m dominant,” I felt the need to say.

Reese’s smile widened. “Even better. A Dom who needs to get fucked? Do you struggle with that bit?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Only if the other guy—or guys—think they can boss me around. And for the record, Doms can be bottoms too.”

He chuckled and leaned back in his seat. “I know.” He lifted his gaze to something behind me—or someone, rather—and it was River returning with two bottles of beer. Reese scooted farther in, and River sat down next to him. “Lucas West here is a Dom who occasionally needs to get fucked like a savage.”

For chrissakes!

“Really.” River hitched his brows at me and took a swig of his beer. “Does he beg?”

Okay, that one got me. Annoyance tore through me, and I instantly considered calling it a night. I could still drive after two beers, and I hadn’t finished this one anyway. My plan had been to nurse it for a while. My actual plan—and the whole reason I’d chosen to drive—was because I’d thought I’d be in Baltimore.

“He fucking does not,” I stated. “He’s not that interested either.”

*
“Hey, gorgeous. Did you get your asshole prettied up for us?”

I stopped short, and it felt like he’d dumped a bucket of cold water over me. Water or embarrassment. Or defiance—or anger!

Who the fuck was this guy?!

I made eye contact with River. “Is he always like this?”

He shrugged a little and took a swig of whatever drink he’d mixed. “More or less. It’s how he digs for information. It ain’t subtle, but it’s effective.”

Information about what? And how exactly? Through shock value?

“If there’s information you want about me, you could start a conversation and ask,” I pointed out. “It’s how normal people get to know each other.”

River chuckled quietly. “Not sure we know what’s normal.”

“Fuck normal,” Reese said bluntly.

Author Bio:

Romance Across the Spectrum.

I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.

There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.

Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.

I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I’m a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

~Cara.

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