Showing posts with label LGBTQ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LGBTQ. Show all posts

Thursday, January 15, 2026

Tilthos Pack - LGBTQ - Dark Fantasy - Shifters #LGBTQ #DarkFantasy #Shifters

Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Tilthos Pack, LGBTQ, dark fantasy, shifters.

Read on for details...

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LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Shifters

Date Published: January 16 2026

 


Lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on unsteady ground. Can their love prevail despite the terror working its way through the pack?

 

Wedding a Genie: Mark and Luke are getting married… or are they? Mark’s pride may not allow him to show how he feels to a roomful of his nearest and dearest.

The Mating Ceremony: Ethan and Jeremy have been forced into a mating ceremony. Can their love survive their pack traditions?

The Separation: Separated by hundreds of miles and a promise, Charlie and Luis long for each other. Will their love survive?

A Solstice Sundering: When Ethan is ordered back to the pack, his strained relationship with Jeremy comes to the forefront. Can they weather this storm?

Uncertain Foundations: Lovers who have stood the test of time find themselves on unsteady ground. Can their love prevail?



Excerpt from Wedding a Genie

 

Mark paced. He was dressed, finally, in his coat and tie, his hair tamed. He looked almost the same as he did every day for work, except this was a tux, not just a suit. And it wasn’t black, like the majority of his dress clothes. Luke had picked out a soft brown garment that complemented Mark’s deep tan and his dark brown hair. The tie he wore was the same blue as his eyes. The tie clip, which he hadn’t even known was a thing until Luke produced it, was golden and in the shape of a dragon.

He looked good.

But he longed to rip off all his clothes and go for a swim in the Gulf of Mexico.

Someone knocked on the door to the “groom’s” changing room on the boat he and Luke had rented for their wedding. Mark quit pacing and forced his hands not to shake. “Come in.”

His brother, Jonathan, stepped in and shut the door. “Are you all right?”

Mark scowled. “Why?”

To his surprise, Jonathan didn’t snap right back. “Because I was nervous as hell when I got married to Becca,” he said quietly “And you haven’t known Luke half as long as I knew Becca before I proposed.

“Besides, Mark,” he added, “I know you. Making a change like this is difficult at the best of times and you’ve just been promoted. You’re trying to get your feet under you.”

Mark let out a long sigh. “You’re right, I’m nervous. I love him, I want to be with him for the rest of my life. Why am I so jittery?”

“Like I said, it’s a big change.” Jonathan turned for the door.

“That’s it? You’re going to come in here, confront me about my nerves, and then just walk out?”

“You’re calmer now,” Jonathan pointed out.

Mark huffed a laugh. “I still want to go for a swim in the gulf.”

“As long as you get back here in time to dry yourself off, I don’t see why that’s a problem. It’s almost an hour before…” Jonathan tilted his head and said, “Or maybe Luke’s presence would help.”

Mark’s tension rocketed up from a five all the way to a ten. “Luke?” he squeaked.

Jonathan left the room and Luke stood in the doorway with two tall glasses in his hands. “I know we’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding,” Luke said, sounding apologetic. “But do you mind if I come in?”

Mark took two steps back and gestured his soon-to-be-husband inside. Luke used his magic to close the door without touching it.

“Showoff,” Mark teased weakly.

“Genie prerogative,” Luke answered. He took a sip from the glass in his left hand and offered Mark the other one.

It was a rum and Coke; Mark sensed that even before he could smell the contents. Luke knew what relaxed him. “You could feel my agitation all the way from the other side of the boat, huh?” he asked as he sipped. And then took a little more because Luke just made this particular drink so perfectly.

Luke, being a genie, Mark’s former genie, had a connection to Mark’s emotions. Sort of like the telepathic link Mark had to Luke, although in that case it was because of Mark’s dragon genetics. For Luke, it had everything to do with the rules that governed his species. Or at least that was what he and Mark had decided. Probably, if SearchLight ever chose to study genies more thoroughly, they would find a different, or at least more exact, answer.

Luke nodded, his golden eyebrows drawn together in a worried frown. He set his glass on a handy table and crossed to Mark. “What’s wrong?”

Damn, but Luke looked good. Mark traced the lapel of his lover’s tux. Brown, like Mark’s, but a lighter shade. Luke had really coordinated everything. “You look like a sex god,” Mark murmured.

That got him a brief smile but then Luke’s serious expression returned. “Talk to me, my Mark. What’s making you so jumpy?”

Mark didn’t know how to lay hands on the source of his nervousness and so he simply shook his head. He, too, set his glass down and wrapped his arms tightly around Luke, resting his cheek against his lover’s shoulder. His whole body wanted to shake and he held it at bay. He felt so safe in Luke’s embrace.

“Okay, so this is helping,” Luke correctly interpreted. “I can just hold you during the whole ceremony if you want.”

Mark tensed. “I don’t want…” He stepped back.

The look on Luke’s face was that of a stricken calf.

Mark hugged him close again. “It’s not you, it’s me, and I know that sounds like a crock of shit but…” He rubbed Luke’s back. “Please understand… I’m sorry… I don’t know how to explain but I’m so sorry…” He let his words fade away as Luke placed a gentle kiss on his hair. Mark couldn’t help thinking he shouldn’t feel this way, not when he was the head of a whole damned department, he’d known Luke for three plus years, and he all but worshiped the ground his genie lover walked on. Why was he feeling so defensive?

“I’m feeling vulnerable,” he whispered as the truth made itself known.

Luke’s voice in his ear was unfailingly soothing and warm. “If you want, we can postpone or…” His swallow was audible in Mark’s ear.


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


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Friday, December 19, 2025

Her Name Was Chas - Contemporary LGBTQ Fiction - Lesbian Romance #Romance #LesbianRomance #ContemporaryLGBTQfiction #LGBTQ

SK Holt is here to tell us about Her Name Was Chas, contemporary LGBTQ fiction, lesbian romance.

Read on for details...

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Contemporary LGBTQ Fiction, Lesbian Romance

Date Published: November 13,2025



The last place Chas Montgomery wants to be is in the damp basement of an old church undergoing conversion therapy. But when her mother catches her kissing her best friend Jess, that's exactly where she ends up.

Years later, “Chastity” is a model of the life her family always wanted for her: married to a man and devoted to her faith. She’s done everything “right” and put her old life behind her for good. Until she meets Alex.

Alex is confident, compassionate, and everything Chas never knew she needed. As their connection deepens, Chas begins to question the beliefs she was forced to live by. For the first time, she chooses herself—and a new life filled with authenticity, freedom, and love.

But when an unexpected pregnancy from her marriage threatens to unravel everything, Chas must confront her past to protect her future. Can she hold on to the life she’s building with Alex, or will fear, guilt, and unrelenting pressure pull her back into the shadows?


About the Author

 

 SK Holt writes compelling contemporary gay romance that delves into the heart of modern relationships and identity. Her debut novel, Her Name Was Chas, is a tender and unforgettable story of finding love and self-discovery. A native of South Carolina, SK lives with her wife, their children, and a demanding trio of French bulldogs. When she isn't working, she can be found unwinding with her family by the ocean, her favorite spot for inspiration.


Purchase Link

Amazon


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Friday, November 28, 2025

Essence - Splintered Bloodlines 3 - LGBTQ - MM - Fantasy #LGBTQ #MM #Fantasy

Mychael Black is here to tell us about Essence, Splintered Bloodlines 3, LGBTQ, MM, fantasy.

Read on for details...

______________________

 


(Splintered Bloodlines 3)


LGBTQ / M/M / Fantasy

Date Published: November 28, 2025



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

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.”

 

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.



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

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

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Sunday, November 2, 2025

Conventions of Dragons - LGBTQ Dark Fantasy - Polyamorous - Shapeshifters #LGBTQ #DarkFantasy #Polyamorous #Shapeshifters

Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Conventions of Dragons, an LGBTQ polyamorous dark fantasy featuring shapeshifters.

Read on for details...

____________________
 



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

 

Order Today


RABT Book Tours & PR



Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

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Monday, October 13, 2025

Medically Necessary - LGBTQ Romance - Dark Fantasy - Steamy #Romance #LGBTQ #LGBTQRomance #DarkFantasy #Steamy

Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Medically Necessary, an LGBTQ steamy, dark fantasy romance.

Read on for details...

________________________


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

 

Order Today


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Thursday, June 26, 2025

Jack & Gil - LGBTQ - Paranormal Romance - Shifters #Romance #ParanormalRomance #PNR #LGBTQ #Shifters

Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Jack & Gil, a LGBTQ Paranormal Romance with Shifters.

Read on for details...

__________________________
 



LGBTQ, Paranormal Romance, Shifters

Date Published: June 27, 2025



Gilbert Sullivan, crown prince of the basilisks, hates his name, but he fears the rhyme may be prophecy.

 

Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 1): When Prince Gilbert Sullivan meets Jack Sowerby, the new head of SearchLight, his attraction won’t let him stay away. Jack’s need for Prince Gilbert blossoms and he’s unable to resist -- until he’s forcibly changed into a magical creature. Will their shattered relationship ever be restored?

 

Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 2)

Jack is falling apart, but no one seems to notice. As Jack withdraws, the tide of war rises. Jack must find a way to regain his strength and determination or SearchLight will fall. And he’s convinced he must do it alone.

 

Rhyme of Love (Jack & Gil 3)

Gil struggles to hide his loss of status from Jack, but when he finally confesses, Jack blurts out his secret. Jack knows he screwed up. Well, almost. Running the risk of losing Gil, Jack must learn to lie convincingly, or he’ll lose SearchLight, his life, and Gil, as well.

 


Excerpt from Rhyme of Longing

 

Jack wanted so badly to be done with this night that he felt uncomfortable in his skin. That was not the proper way to begin thinking about his sixty-eighth birthday, his five-year anniversary as the head of SearchLight Academy. This was a party for both those things but no one said “no” to Agent Weinberg.

Not necessarily the most powerful magical being in the world, she was still the head of the entire organization. Even though she held the nominal title of “head of Public Relations,” SearchLight’s whole reason for existing was to protect the relationship between magical and nonmagical peoples. Which was, of course, officially, no relationship at all. SearchLight was a secret and must remain so.

The influence she held would make most magical creatures bow in submission. Jack, being merely human, was suitably impressed. And although as yet not cowed, he was too fond of his life to waste it needlessly. Not that Agent Weinberg had killed anyone. Recently.

Jack took a deep breath in through his nose as the limousine pulled up to the curb. He’d been commanded to take this limo and the implicit service of a driver, and although he hadn’t enjoyed it particularly, he was glad that he hadn’t needed to find a place to park in downtown Washington, DC. So, unsure if he was supposed to tip the driver but wanting to show his appreciation, he stepped around to the driver’s side after the car was parked at the curb and offered the person behind the wheel, whom, his telepathic sense, told him wasn’t human, ten dollars.

“Would you be trying to bribe me to take you home, Agent Sowerby?”

Jack saw the humor in the green eyes turned up to his and smiled. “Never in life,” he told the Irish-sounding sprite or Faery or leprechaun. Damn, sometimes he wished for a werewolf’s sense of smell so he’d know the magical creatures around him at once.

“You’re a good man, Agent Sowerby. Don’t let her bully you now.” And with that, he winked and rolled up his window. Jack stepped around the car to the sidewalk and watched the limo drive away.

“Hey there.” The voice was soft, lightly accented, and full of a syrupy, sarcastic undertone that put Jack’s hackles up. He turned more slowly than he could have, wanting to appear older and so less threatening. He gazed at the three people facing him and saw they were all armed.

He was aware of others watching from the doorway of the restaurant but knew they wouldn’t intercede unless it became obvious he couldn’t handle himself. That was one thing about Agent Weinberg he didn’t like much. She believed in the “sink or swim” philosophy.

The woman who’d spoken was smiling in a particularly condescending way. “Got a handout for me?” She twirled the knife in her right hand as she reached out with her left for the ten spot Jack still held.

Jack offered it, keeping a good distance from her, forcing her to step forward to take the bill. He was aware of the other two moving to flank him. He disliked using his telepathic sense against what he considered to be defenseless people, magical or mundane, and yet he wouldn’t risk his own life to preserve theirs. “I suggest you take this and be on your way,” he said softly, putting a slight psychic push into the words. He blanketed the area with his calming presence, lacking the ability to focus on more than two people at once. Both of the men who’d been flanking him stopped. One of them shook his head but the other was definitely under Jack’s control.

“Back off,” Jack said and watched the woman lower her knife a little.

She snatched at the bill and her knife hand flicked upward.

Jack dropped the ten spot and caught her wrist. The knife’s blade skidded across the waterproof material of his trench coat. He forced her to drop the knife as he said, “Go away.”

The man under his control turned and fled. But the other lunged at Jack. Yanking the woman close, Jack used her as a shield. The other man’s blade slid between her ribs. He swore, stumbling back, and lost his grip on his knife. As he turned to flee, Jack lowered the woman to the ground. He shouted, “Someone call nine-one-one.”

Someone joined him out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t Agent Weinberg. It wasn’t a SearchLight agent he knew. There was regal bearing in the other’s posture as he crouched beside Jack. “Let me heal her.”

Jack didn’t protest, although he did skate his telepathic sense outward to determine if this was a magical creature. The fact that he’d said “heal” rather than “help” argued for him not being human. He came into contact with an impenetrable psychic wall and winced as his telepathic sense bounced off. Well, there weren’t all that many humans who could resist even his most casual reach. Ergo, this was a magical creature.

Jack nodded and said, “Go ahead.” He retreated inside his own head and as he pulled out his cell phone, unwilling to trust to others to call for help, he watched the broad-shouldered male beside him spit into his hand and press the palm against the wound even as he pulled the knife free.

Dragon, Jack thought. Dragons could heal with their saliva or a blood exchange. But this wasn’t a dragon Jack knew.

 


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

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



RABT Book Tours & PR



Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Please feel free to share the post via FB, Bluesky, Linked In, and more...share buttons at the bottom of this post :)

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