Spellbound - LGBTQ Romance - Vampires #Romance #LGBTQRomance #Vampires

Mychael Black is here to tell us about Spellbound, an LGBTQ vampire romance.

Read on for details...

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LGBTQ Romance, Vampires

Date Published: October 3, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press

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

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

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

 

EXCERPT

Garrett

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

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

Not today, apparently.

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

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

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

Beau nodded. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this going to be an issue?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good. Dismissed.”

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

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

“No,” I snarled.

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

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

Quite the opposite, actually.

I was hard as a fucking rock.

 

About the Author

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

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

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

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

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

 

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Black Leather Night and Other Tales - Vampire Romance - Gay #Romance #VampireRomance #GayVampireRomance

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is here to tell us about Black Leather Night and Other Tales, gay vampire romance.

Read on for details...

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Vampire Romance, Gay

Date Published: July 18, 2025

Dante’s World. A dystopian off planet colony where life is hard and the supernatural exists side by side with everyday drama -- or not so everyday. Joy and pleasure must be paid for at a high price, and to feed from a human means death -- or worse.

But sometimes the line is crossed, and vampires fall in love with mortal men -- or men lose their hearts to the nightwalkers. Anything can happen, and often does…

 

Publisher’s Note: Black Leather Night and Other Tales includes the previously published novellas Black Leather Night, Into the Shadows, The Hunter, Tale of the Night, Memory, Don’t Look Now, Sixty-Nine Reasons, and Missing Pieces.

 

EXCERPT

Gods damn it.

It was, so far as the vampire Robhain could tell, very early in the evening, barely past dusk, yet his human employees, Del and Byrne, had already arrived for business. Del, yawning widely enough to show off all his white teeth, clutched a cup of the expensive cafe imported from Terra, likely bought from a street vendor. Still laughing a little at some joke the boy must have made, Byrne shrugged off his street jacket to hang it on the post by his desk.

Watching the pair, Robhain knew he should only be proud of them. They were, after all, expecting an important shipment of magical artifacts at any time that night, and they needed to be ready with both warding spells and records of what they'd netted. But watching them from his office, behind a tinted window -- protection against occasional bursts of light as day approached -- Robhain's teeth began to grind.

Let the gods have mercy. Byrne! He wore his favorite pair of ass-hugging leather pants for the second night in a row. Hurrying to arrive early enough, he must have taken his motorcycle to the stores and left it parked up top, above the basement showroom.

Watching him, Robhain's expression soured. Byrne. Fresh off the street and every inch a contradiction with his prim, rimless glasses and helmet-mussed hair, starched linen shirt and painted-on pants… didn't he realize how tight they were? Molding as they did to his legs and the too-damn-perfect curve of his shapely ass? Leaving nothing to the imagination?

Especially when, as a vampire, Robhain could smell what he'd been doing, wearing them.

Who was she? he seethed. Some bit of blonde fluff from one of the flesh-parlors, all dazzling smile and tight ass or generous tits? Even across the room, he could smell that Byrne reeked of come.

Robhain's mouth worked, and he swallowed. By rights, that come should belong to him. Should flow into his mouth alone. But what was he but a coward? Unable to approach his very human mage-employee, or to make but the meekest suggestions that were blithely misunderstood as innocent… Fool. As if a vampire could ever be innocent.

His molars were beginning to creak ominously and his small, pointed fangs cut into his lips. Reluctantly he loosened his jaw. Facts were facts. Humans did not mingle willingly with the vampire-kind. It stood as miracle enough that Byrne worked with him in the business. Likely it caused him no little loss of caste in human society.

Not for the first time, he wondered why Byrne chose to work for him. The man's talent could have secured him a place in the Suzerain's palace. Instead he chose to work as mage and record-keeper in a secondhand artifact store, where lesser magicians and warriors came to buy enchanted goods.

Robhain would never, on that level, cease to be grateful for Byrne's assistance. Able to detect the slightest nuance of malicious spell-craft on a weapon or artifact, he was damned good at what he did. Robhain could not do without him -- most such charms were made to harm those of his bloodthirsty ilk, and did not care whether he drank blood fetched from the slaughterhouses or from the hot human vein. With his magics, Byrne had saved his hide a hundred times over.

Watching him, Robhain laid a hand on the glass, as if he could touch the man as he flipped through papers on his overloaded cubby desk. Not that he had never felt the warmth of that skin before, of course -- their hands had brushed, their hips had bumped -- just enough contact to entice him, to send him to daylight slumber with his cock so hard and ready that barely a touch brought him to a scorching completion.

And then, other times, they had actually embraced in relief when a spell turned out a success. Hip to hip, pounding one another's backs. Each time, holding that slender body to his, Robhain had burned for more. To take that slim face between his hands, tilt it just so to one side, and press their lips together…

Well. Byrne was the sort of temptation that could cause a centuries-old creature to shame himself by soiling his own trousers with a climax as soon as he reached the safety of his office.

Not for the first time, he tried to puzzle out why. Byrne was nothing special. An ordinary man -- but ah, with such an extraordinary face, his eyes blue as the sky Robhain had not seen for so long, blue as the ocean, blue as lapis lazuli. His smile -- rarely seen, for he was seriously-natured -- warming as the long-forgotten sunlight on Robhain's skin. To luxuriate in those eyes and smile were more than he dared dream on.

And ah, such an impossible dream. For a vampire to force himself on an unwilling human meant death from those who handed down laws saying what a vampire could or could not do. They must not drink from the vein. They must not antagonize the humans. And not to be forgotten, they must not molest the humans in any way. Their tolerance was zero and justice swiftly delivered. While he knew Byrne to be faithful and fond of his employer, he was also a proud and powerful man. No doubt he would never suffer unwanted advances without immediate retribution.

Yet he taunted Robhain constantly, unconsciously, with his very presence, and in particular on days when he wore those thrice be-damned leather pants.

Crossing the room, Byrne glanced at him behind his window and threw up his hand, smiling in greeting. Robhain nodded in return and discreetly, behind his back, snapped a stylus in half.

That man would be the second death of him.

 

It was too early for customers as yet -- they rarely came until full dark -- so Robhain chose to remain in his office, going over letters and transmissions informing him of possible new sources of booty. Mercifully Byrne sank out of sight behind the piles of paper on his desk, rummaging around with his beloved books. Still, he could hear that warm, human-accented voice calling snips of information out to Del, diligently dusting and polishing braziers and daggers.

Del. A handsome lad, with ebony hair far too long and eyes far too bright green. Robhain was certain he had some Fey blood in him. Perhaps third or fourth generation. He passed as human, at any rate, but would certainly stand on their outskirts. Reason enough for him to be glad of a job with Robhain. He did well enough at it, though he was flightily-natured.

More than once, he had considered bedding the boy instead of fruitlessly aching for Byrne. He would likely be willing, and given his heritage, there would be no repercussions. But though he tried, he could barely raise his staff to half-mast over the thought of Del's nimble flanks and flashing grin. Not when there was Byrne.

Neither paid him any attention as they went about their business, thank the gods that holy men claimed had long since turned their backs on Robhain.

Determined, he returned to the business at hand, ignoring the men as they ignored him. Ignoring Byrne, and those leather pants. Leather. The stylus slipped from Robhain's hand and bounced heedlessly on the floor as he stared out, hoping to catch a glimpse. Really, the man showed shocking ignorance or tremendous nerve to wear them a second day. Once was bad enough. Robhain could control himself and his shock over the pants one day at a time. But two days running of the slick, soft leather, black as night, clinging to Byrne's shapely ass…

Leather called to him. It sang a bewitching melody that brought out his inner beast. Life had been given for that fabric, and when Byrne wore it, the sound became a siren's song.

His cock jumped and twitched within his own linen trousers, wanting to play.

Behave, he told it sternly.

Unfortunately it was not in the mood to listen.

Come what might, it would be better for him that day if he remained inside his office. Yes, hiding, and what of it? Hiding behind his good, solid desk. With a book on his lap. A heavy book. To be on the safe side. Yes.

But as he settled the book into place, Byrne stood and stretched, leather clinging to his thighs. Robhain's stubborn prick, with a mind of its own, swelled half-hard. Perhaps sheer willpower could…

Of course. And he could also fly.

He propped the book in front of the impromptu tent in his trousers to conceal it, and with a great effort, he composed his expression. If Byrne were to come in, he wouldn't be able to smell Robhain's arousal, but surely he'd notice the ravenous look on his face.

Calm. He had to calm down. This was lust. Not unlike the blood lust he sometimes felt when he forgot to feed. This was leather lust. Nothing more.

But as he began to read the tiny script of the heavy book, his mind -- evil thing -- drifted away, sketching out dream after delicious dream. Taking Byrne up against that bookcase in the showroom. Pinning his wrists above his head. Nuzzling deep into his neck. Rubbing his dripping cock between the cleft of Byrne's ass. Or Byrne, bent over the desk, Robhain dragging that leather down over his ass. His hands scrabbling for purchase as Robhain stroked, cupped, and pinched. Sliding his hand deeper and brushing against a cock hard as…

… his own.

Robhain groaned, shutting the book. So much for that plan.

 

About the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will's definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he -- not she anymore -- is a lot less quiet these days.

 

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Burn - Gay Dark Fantasy - MPreg - Vampire Romance #Romance #Vampire #VampireRomance #GayDarkFantasy #MPreg

Mychael Black is here to tell us about Burn, a gay dark fantasy, MPreg, vampire romance.

Read on for details...

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Gay Dark Fantasy, MPreg, Vampire Romance

Date Published: July 11, 2025

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

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

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

EXCERPT

 

Cameron

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna join?”

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

“You clock out?”

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

“Ah.”

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

“No problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods, I was nuts.

 

About the Author

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

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

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

 

Author on Facebook

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

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