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.
Mychael Black is here to tell us about Essence, Splintered Bloodlines 3, LGBTQ, MM, fantasy.
Read on for details...
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(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
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.
Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Conventions of Dragons, an LGBTQ polyamorous dark fantasy featuring shapeshifters.
Read on for details...
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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.
Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Medically Necessary, an LGBTQ steamy, dark fantasy romance.
Read on for details...
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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.
Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Jack & Gil, a LGBTQ Paranormal Romance with Shifters.
Read on for details...
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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.
Nevaeh Ryn is here to tell us about her LGBTQ paranormal romance Mesmerized.
There's also a great giveaway.
____________________
For the longest time, I believed my grandma could do no
wrong.
But then, puberty hit, my body changed, and I started
noticing new things.
Mesmerized
by Nevaeh Ryn
Genre: LGBTQ Paranormal Romance
Kamika Suzanna LeBlanc’s heart broke when her grandmother
passed away at age 78. With a funeral looming over them, she and her mother
travel from Miami to Gaville, the small Louisiana town her mother grew up in.
As Kamika grieves and reflects on her complex relationship with her
grandmother, she meets up with her ex and first romantic partner, Larissa
Harris, and discovers that she has changed in... unforeseeable ways.
As if grieving her grandmother’s death wasn’t already a challenge, her
situation becomes more complicated when she meets Delaney, Larissa’s charming
older cousin, and a mysterious man known as Beau. Soon, Kamika’s world gets
turned upside down when she unearths the secrets Gaville and her family have
been harboring.
Since she was young, twenty-one-year-old Nevaeh Ryn has had
a passion for storytelling. Writing is Nevaeh’s escape and platform for underrepresented
literary voices.
Nevaeh’s storytelling shapes her, and she hopes to have a
positive impact. In 2025, she obtained a BFA in Creative Writing at Full Sail
University to hone her craft and intends to pursue further education. When she
isn’t lost in her own world, Nevaeh spends her free time gaming on her PC, cooking up new recipes, and of course,
reading and writing. She’s an avid Sims player and expresses herself through an
ever-growing collection of tattoos.
M. Tasia is here to tell us about Ghost, Fire Lake Book 9, M/M LGBTQ contemporary military romance.
There's also a great giveaway.
________________________
Sometimes you can't see love coming, but that doesn't mean
it isn't there.
Ghost
Fire Lake Book 9
by M. Tasia
Genre: M/M LGBTQ Contemporary Military Romance
The Thrilling Last
Story in the Fire Lake Series
THE INVISIBLE MAN
A cop down to his bones, Detective Ray Sommers has seen it all, and knows how
to trust his instincts.
While visiting an old friend, he finds what he knows with what he sees
colliding right in front of his eyes. A man has appeared from out of nowhere.
Literally. And in more ways than one, Ray's visit has gotten way more
complicated.
Darren, aka Ghost, ran from his traumatic past taking with him some
unbelievable secrets. But now he’s found a family where he’s been accepted for
the first time in his life.
Ray and Darren’s initial encounter might’ve been a bit unorthodox, but interest
sparks and their attraction is undeniable.
Ghost and his Fire Lake family are targeted by a powerful and ruthless man, and
they fight back with every weapon they have—of which Ghost is one.
Now that he’s found someone who genuinely sees him, he’s not sure he’ll live
long enough to enjoy him.
M. Tasia is an author who lives in Ontario, Canada. Michelle
is a dedicated people watcher, lover of romance novels, 80’s rock, and happily
ever afters (once the MCs have been put through their paces of course), who
grew up with a love of reading. Mother of three wonderful children, wife to one
understanding husband, and servant to two spoiled furry children who don’t seem
to realize, that they’re actually cats.
Michelle writes contemporary mm romance and believes love
should be shared and celebrated. After all, you deserve to have romance,
excitement, intrigue, and passion in your lives.
