Showing posts with label steamy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label steamy. Show all posts

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...

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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

 

Order Today


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Thursday, February 20, 2025

Earth's Craving - LGBTQ - Dark Fantasy - Steamy #LGBTQ #DarkFantasy #Steamy

Emily Carrington is here to tell us about Earth's Craving, LGBTQ, dark fantasy, steamy.

Read on for details...


_______________________
 

 

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Steamy

Date Published: February 21, 2025

 

 

When werewolf and dragon meet, will their need for each other defeat all their well-intentioned plans?

Tom, a land dragon, is so large he’s earned the nickname “Earth.” His dragon herd takes advantage of him until he’s sold to a pair of basilisks. Unfortunately for them, Tom’s mating plans don’t include repopulating the basilisk species. Time to make his escape…

Kailee, psychic disaster and frightened “rehabilitated” werewolf, is new to adulting, but she’s been through enough to make her a force to be reckoned with. Transgender, she is burdened with not one, but three psychic abilities. The overabundance of power tends to make her a little off-balance…

Will Kailee be able to protect Tom from those hunting him? Can Tom learn to trust? Or will their need for each other defeat all their well-intentioned plans?


 

EXCERPT


Tom fled through the forest, staying low to the ground, or as low as a person who stood over six feet could manage without crawling. He needed to keep his feet because --

He flashed back to when the matriarch had cut off his left foot to keep him from escaping again. It had grown back, of course. He was a dragon. Still, it had hurt, and he sometimes woke in the middle of the night with phantom pain reminding him how he’d suffered.

He didn’t have a very good sense of direction, but it was a sunny day, early in the morning, and the sun came up in the east. So, just as long as he kept the sun on his left, he’d assumed he’d be generally heading south. Out of Canada. He’d grown up here but all he knew about the country where he’d been imprisoned was that it was north of the United States.

He was grateful his shedding was over for another six months. His escape would have been impossible while he was struggling through the twice-a-year loss of his scales.

He heard other dragons flying above him and huddled against a tree, hoping the darkness of his skin would blend with the shadows. He wasn’t exactly dressed for a late December winter when the temperatures around Nova Scotia lingered just above freezing most days. He wouldn’t freeze to death… probably. As long as he kept moving, he’d be all right. Just now, though, stillness was required. He shut his eyes, fearing that his anxiety had turned his irises yellow-green. They might be spotted by someone with a searchlight.

He wondered briefly if the female dragons had employed some of their males to help. Most of the males were treated better than he was, although not equal to the females. The large majority would do as they were told because they weren’t required to stand stud all year, just when the females wanted them.

Probably most of the other male dragons were grateful for his existence. He was an anomaly, but one that the females liked. Bigger and stronger than any other dragon he’d ever met, he’d been conditioned since birth. He’d been born larger and the hopes for his future progeny had been high. Hell, they were still high even though only about one third of the dragons he sired were of greater size when they were born. He’d only been at this enslavement stud service for a year and a half, so none of his children were more than a year old.

It was as if, when the dragons and werewolves had split off from their basilisk parentage, they’d been cursed to all stand at the exact same height in either human guise or scaly form. Five feet, ten inches was the height of almost every other dragon he’d heard of when they walked on two feet. With their talons and tails, they stood eight feet tall.

Tom was six-two sometimes, and others, he was ten feet tall. Being larger than most dragons should have been an advantage. Having increased strength could have helped if there weren’t so many damn males and females alike ready to take him down.

The sounds overhead faded and he hesitated, not wanting to leave his hiding place. Yet, what good would it do him to stay here? They’d send out hunters on foot if necessary.

So, biting his lips almost hard enough to draw blood, he crept away from the tree and started running again. He skirted around a meadow and kept going, adrenaline making him thirsty even as it lent his muscles endurance.

The sun had been up for an hour before he judged it safe to stop and drink. He’d been hearing a river nearby for about the last ten minutes and that burbling, overly cheery sound made him long for water.

He broke from the game trail he’d been following and found an offshoot that led in the correct direction. When he came upon the river, he was relieved to see a rocky bank where he could get right down close to the water and drink his fill.

He crawled to the edge of the river, listening hard. He heard nothing except the twittering of birds and the chittering of squirrels. Well, and the rushing of the water, of course. It was a deep stream, not quite the river he’d been envisioning based on the amount of noise it was making. He slipped his hands into the icy cold water.

Hands seized him roughly by his hair.

Without thought, he shifted to his scaly form to lose that grip. His clothes, rags now, fell away as he tried for the sky.

Three dragons, brown and orange, like him, male, like him, each two feet smaller, crashed into him. From below came a howl of triumph and something sharp sliced through his wing’s membrane.

He screamed as he fell.



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.


Contact Links

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

 

Pre-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

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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