Paranormal Romance Feature: So Passes the Night by Cassidy McKay #excerpt #paranormal #pnr #comingsoon #rabtbooktours @ChangelingPress @RABTBookTours

Paranormal Sea Adventure Romance

Date Published: July 17, 2026

One wild night, two sexy seamen and a voluptuous woman -- three broken souls seeking completion.

 

First Mate Cade Talbot disobeyed a direct order, sacrificing himself to save his best friend. Since then, Captain Grant Rowen rules his ship with an iron fist, demanding strict compliance from all aboard.

Coffers are low, and when a lone woman requests passage to St. Thomas, Captain Rowen accepts her payment. But the stormy sea crossing holds more than just nature's surprises.

Aurora Journade reveals that she not only speaks to spirits, she makes love to them --and she doesn't follow orders. With Aurora's help, Cade has one last chance to reach out to his captain. Not even death can keep them from seeking passion's redemption.

 

EXCERPT

 

"Yes... no... Oh God, how you touch me, my love. But what if someone should see us? We shouldn't do this here." The female voice coming from the dark alley quivered, ripe with passion.

Grant couldn't hear her companion's murmured reply, but from her enthusiastic cries it must have been to her liking.

He continued toward the tavern, almost late for a meeting. The repairs to his ship had taken longer than he'd anticipated. Noise and smoke rolled out into the street as Grant pushed open the scarred wooden door, spreading over him in a wave of stinking humanity. Squinting through the smoke and dim light, he made his way to the busy barkeep.

"I'm looking for a merchant named Crofton. Know him?"

The slight man behind the bar pointed toward the corner where most of the noise was coming from. "Aye, Linch is over there."

Grant squared his shoulders and strode toward the merchant. "Crofton? Captain Rowen of the Venture. Amory Talbot said to find you the next time I was in port."

The older, ruddy-faced man fixed his gaze on Grant. "Yes, my cousin has good things to say about you, Rowen. It's a pity about his son, though. The boy was your first mate, wasn't he? Sit down and we'll have a drink before we talk business." He motioned to the barmaid for another round.

"Thank you, sir. Yes, Cade was my first mate." Grant took a long pull on the foaming brew the barmaid set before him. "I'm told you're looking for a ship to do some regular cargo runs. The Venture is a fine vessel and I have an experienced crew. She's in port now if you'd like to look her over." He took another drink and choked back bittersweet memories. He hadn't visited Cade's home port since just after his death, but it had been the closest for needed repairs.

* * *

Breathing in the fresh night air, Grant closed the tavern door behind him. The promise of a full cargo hold and a regular run starting at the end of the week lifted his lagging spirits. He walked down the street, dust kicking up under his boots as he hummed a familiar tune, one that his best friend Cade had often whistled.

A flash of red silk coming out of the alley was the only warning he received before he was knocked on his ass by a voluptuous female body. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, her bountiful breasts flattening on his chest. The heady scent of aroused woman rose from her and his cock stiffened instantly.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir! I wasn't looking where I was going." She scrambled up and rushed off, leaving him with an aching cock and the impression of long, dark passion-rustled hair, haunting gypsy eyes, and a body made for love.

"My pleasure, miss." He readjusted his erection and stared after the little minx. He hadn't had a woman in a while, but the insistent desire pulsing in his cock from the unexpected tousle rekindled his interest. As he boarded his ship and took over the watch, he decided it might be time to see if the brothel in the next port was still in business.

* * *

"Please, I must speak with the captain." Grant spied the woman rushing up the wooden gangplank past one of his crewmen, almost tripping in her haste. Though dressed well, she had no bags and no servants.

"I'm Captain Rowen, miss." He extended a hand to help her onto the deck and a thrill of awareness ran through him at the touch of her hand. It was the woman who had run him over last night. Her beautiful black hair was confined in an intricate knot, now, and the lush figure that had intrigued him was caged behind a corseted gown. He much preferred the unrestrained seductress of the night before.

She glanced up and her eyes widened with recognition and interest. Grant smiled, sensing sexual adventure in the wind. As any good sailor, he listened to the wind when it spoke to him.

"I am Miss Journade. I need immediate passage to St. Thomas, captain." She fidgeted nervously but didn't let go of his hand or drop her gaze.

"I'm afraid most of my crew is ashore on leave, miss. You'll have to wait until they return before we can set sail."

"It is important that I depart this afternoon, Captain Rowen. I can pay you well. I am meeting a... a friend and his time is very limited. Please, sir, I will give you whatever you want." She stepped forward and laid her hand on his chest, her fingers curling against the cloth. Could she feel his heart pounding with desire?

Grant weighed his options, measuring his empty coffers and skeleton crew against the delicious temptation of the woman and her money. Normally he would have refused, as would most captains. Women on ships were considered bad luck, and a woman without an escort could be nothing but trouble.

Still, the passage to St. Thomas was generally an easy one and they needed gold after the recent repairs. He'd risk the journey and try to find an acceptable chaperone in town while he rounded up as much of his crew as he could find.

"Welcome aboard the Venture, Miss Journade." He motioned toward a young boy standing in the shadows. "Remy, please show Miss Journade to the passenger's quarters. I'll be in town rounding up the crew. We set sail on my return."

 

About the Author

Cassidy lives in the beautiful state of Washington and is surrounded by mysterious rain forests, tempestuous oceans and enough gorgeous scenery to inspire stories for at least another two hundred years.

She's been reading romances since she was thirteen, and writing them since she was fifteen. However, the serious writing bug didn't bite until much later in life, inspired by her talented husband (who is also a writer!).

 

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LGBTQ Romance Feature: Pridelands by Jade Buchanan #comingsoon #lgbtq #scifi #paranormal #romance #excerpt #rabtbooktours @changelingpress @RABTBookTours

An LGBTQ+ Sci-Fi Paranormal Action Romance

Date Published: June 12, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

Stranded... on Earth. Thrust together by fate, can these offworlders find a way to connect?

The Pridelands 1: Darren’s Surprise

Darren is looking for his brother, but he ends up finding something a little more alien. Durai has come to claim his mate. He won’t let anything get in his way. Not even Darren.

The Pridelands 2: Zula’s Stand

Jai realizes he’s found two people that complete him. Only, one wants nothing to do with him, and the other claims he’s only interested in women.

The Pridelands 3: Sheer’s Choice

Jai’s sister, Rabi’a, isn’t going to sit down and let any man determine her future. She has claws of her own, and Tigris Sheer Ma’at and Leo Rais Steinsson are about to feel them.

The Pridelands 4: Griffin’s Joy

Griffin and Mazin have finally found a woman who completes them both. All they have to do is seduce her. Easy, right? Not if Joy has her way.

The Pridelands 5: Khalid’s Challenge

Khalid Steinsson and Pran Devan were once deeply in love. It will take something monumental to bring them back together.

The Pridelands 6: Achan’s Peace

Achan’s nightmares won’t let him move forward. Hunter Miles needs to be able to express his love for Achan. Tafa Morn never expected to find two wounded souls that needed his particular brand of care. Now that he has, he doesn’t plan to let them go.

Publisher's Note: The Pridelands Box Set contains the previously released novellas Darren's Surprise, Zula's Stand, Sheer's Choice, Griffin's Joy, Khalid's Challenge, and Achan's Peace.

 

Excerpt from Darren's Surprise

Copyright ©2026 Jade Buchanan

Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, he surveyed the loft. A bunk bed was sidled up against the wall beside him. A single bedside table was arranged on the side closest to the stairs, nestled between the dresser and the bed. A large area rug was the only decoration in the middle of the room. Across from it, a very small double bed was set up, the covers strewn about as if a wild animal had slept there the night before.

He tensed, spying the results of his late night.

Sheets of formerly white paper littered the floor. Sketches covered the three walls. It appeared as if he'd gone on some drawing binge last night.

Picking up one piece of paper, he studied the drawing. Anthropomorphic cats sprawled along the page. A head here, a hand there, a full body just barely traced out.

The next sheet he picked up had the same theme as the first. On this one he'd focused on an ear, the pointed tip, the hint of fur shading the delicate slope. He'd drawn the ear from the front and back and every other angle he could possibly imagine.

The next sheet portrayed various tails, some rough and some more detailed. There was one covered in crescent shaped spots, and another that had a hint of stripes.

Every sheet he picked up had the same theme. He'd even used up several sheets just drawing eyes. The corners tilted up in amusement, narrowed with heat, wide with surprise.

Turning his attention to the walls, he realized he'd gone into even more detail here. A planet was stretched above his dad's bed, hints of trees and mountains sketched out in minute detail. Around the planet, he'd obviously started and halted several prototypes, because small shadows of round globes circled the larger shape.

He had no idea where he'd gotten this inspiration from, but he wasn't going to complain. It was some of his best work recently. Apparently he only needed to come out to Bumfuck, Nowhere, to get plenty of material for his next project.

The bunk bed wall and the wall by the stairs were covered with various drawings, some of his past work that had been up for years. He'd done that over a decade ago. It'd been so long he barely noticed it anymore.

Darren scratched his belly, looking down at his chest covered only by the freckles he'd cursed since junior high. He was barefoot, his feet peeking out from under the worn and faded jeans. They were a size too large on him -- courtesy of his rebellious teenage years when he'd been in love with a certain rapper/male model. God, that man was gorgeous. Darren sighed in remembrance. He'd jacked off on more than one occasion to pictures of the underwear model.

Hell, at least his own tighty-whiteys weren't showing above the waistband. Come to think of it, he wasn't wearing underwear. His pants were in danger of falling completely off, hanging precariously from his narrow hips. Darren sniffed, trying to remember when he'd last had clean clothes. The jeans he'd originally found in a forgotten cupboard set along the wall beside the stairs. He hadn't realized he'd left clothes behind but he was grateful for it when his previous jeans just about stood up and demanded to be washed.

Making his way down the stairs into the main room of the cabin, he looked around to see what kind of trouble he'd gotten into out here. His dad was going to tear a strip off him. He was still mad about the two walls in the loft, and Darren had done that in his teens.

Directly across from him were more anthropomorphic cats, drawn up and around the front door. Hell, he'd even drawn on the back of the door itself. He was so screwed when his dad saw this.

Cats of every species… some covered in stripes, some in spots, some furry with tufts of fur along their cheeks. The majority of them resembled lions, though, sleek and beautiful cats. With one single big cat front and center dwarfing the others.

Make that cat men, since every one of them was anatomically correct, especially the large lion creature in the center of the wall. He blinked, impressed despite himself. He'd definitely been more than generous when he'd been shading in the cats' nether regions. Good on him, it'd obviously been way too long since he'd been laid.

No way would he get away with that in a movie. Lordy, he still considered himself lucky every time he got a job on another film. The last thing he needed was for some bigwig to see this display and he'd be laughed out of Hollywood for being a perv.

Not that there weren't a fair share of pervs in Hollywood, but he prided himself on being above the rest of the riffraff.

He turned to view the wall to his left, behind the ragged couch. The two windows interrupted the mural, but it was still impressive.

A massive warship sat high within a galaxy of stars. He'd paid special attention to each constellation, meticulously drawing every tiny detail.

This was by far his best work.

The warship was shaded intricately with blue ink, each hatch set apart from the sleek lines of the ship. What appeared to be weapons stood out from the simple style of the rest of the craft, bulging along the sides and at the front. The entire top of the ship was open, the hint of glass reflecting back at him. Shapes were present behind the glass, but he couldn't quite make them out.

"Not bad," he murmured. "A race of alien beings inhabiting a large planet. A ship carrying space explorers from Earth crash lands. Suddenly the cat-like aliens take the humans prisoner, binding them and using them as slaves."

He snorted, laughing at himself.

"Yeah, sounds familiar. Planet of the Apes, anyone? Strike one for Darren. Although it wouldn't be too bad to be used as a sex slave by some of these big guys. Talk about wishful thinking."

 

About the Author

Jade's writing is as eclectic as her reading tastes, with over thirty five erotic romance stories currently published. She has been known to accept writing challenges from friends and family just to see their reactions. Jade is a firm believer that love and romance are universal concepts, no matter a person's gender identity or sexual orientation.

Originally from Northern Ontario, she's lived in British Columbia and the Sultanate of Oman in the Middle East. Jade currently lives in Calgary, Alberta where she's hard at work on her next story. Jade loves to hear from readers!

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Paranormal Romance Feature: Taken by the Alien by Megan Slayer #excerpt #paranormal #womensfiction #rabtbooktours @MeganSlayer @ChangelingPress @RABTBookTours

(Taken, Book 13)

A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novel

Date Published: May 8, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

She’s got magic she’s never tapped into. He’s from another galaxy. Together, they’re just right.

Lindsey Knepper-Lare just wants to belong. As far back as she can remember, she’s felt different. She’s convinced she’ll always been damaged goods. Then she’s abducted by an alien and spirited to a planet with a name she can’t even pronounce. Then Ronan walks into her life. He’s everything she wants, but has never had the courage to go after. Too bad he’ll never pay her any mind.

Ronan Miir wasn’t planning on visiting the diner on ERAEMA, but the second he spots Lindsey, he knows he has to save her. The metallic aliens on the planet want nothing good for to her. Not Ronan. He wants to kiss, touch, and protect her. Good thing he knows a thing or two about aliens, rescue, and getting back to Eerie. He’s ready to make their pairing into a forever romance… if she’ll give him a chance.

 

Excerpt

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2026 Megan Slayer

She blinked back tears and her stomach lurched again. She’d been taken from her home against her will, was being used for something she never wanted to take part in, and had been dumped in a place she didn’t even know to work for a being who claimed to own her. And she had no idea how to get home.

Lovely.

“Oh, and if you try to rip the comm off your body, it will alert P482 and he’ll destroy you.” T181 threw a rag in her direction. “Get to cleaning. These tables won’t sanitize themselves.”

She held onto the rag, then wondered what she was supposed to clean with the rag. Instead of asking questions, she moved to the first table and wiped it down. Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to cry. If she’d been able to be strong so far, she could keep doing it. She had no choice.

She wasn’t about to let anyone see her crack. She’d dissociate from herself and pretend she wasn’t here. Again. She wasn’t anyone’s slave. She didn’t have to act like she was happy in her surroundings.

“A few rules. Don’t talk to the clients. You’re here to clean, not flirt. They won’t take you out of here, so don’t ask. Understood?” T181 asked. “If they want food, they’ll let you know, but you simply deliver. You clean, you keep your mouth shut, and you give in to P482 if you want freedom from here.”

A man walked into the diner and said something she couldn’t quite hear to T181. Lindsey moved to the second table and watched the man. So far, she’d only seen beings that resembled satellites, like T181 and P482. This was the first being she’d encountered, even at a glance, who sort of resembled a human.

She watched him and her heart ached. Not only because she missed her home, but because she missed being held. Missed being touched. Missed other humans. Hell, she wasn’t even sure anyone would want to look for her. No one probably missed her.

Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t drool over this being. She swept her gaze over him. Dark hair, a bit wavy and just long enough to need a little product. Icy blue eyes that seemed to pierce through her the longer she looked at him. He had a slight dimple when he smiled and dazzling white teeth. He even had nice hands. The suit fit tight to his body, like it was tailored precisely for him. He oozed sex. No, not just sex, but power and confidence as well.

Not that this man would ever look her way. Good gracious. She was like Cinderella, but on a whole different planet. Even back on Earth men like him didn’t pay her any mind. She faded into the background -- just like she would here.

T181 moved between her and the man. “He’s mine. He’s got money, he’s free to move about the planet, and won’t bed you.”

She almost asked, “Bed him?” She hadn’t even thought of that. “Sure.”

She glanced over at him while she cleaned the third table. He had nice lips. Just full enough for a good kiss. She’d bet he was skilled at kissing, too. Not that she’d ever know. She was stuck.

She’d been taken to breed and given a bullshit answer for how to get home. A lie. Her heart hurt. This was so silly. Impossible, really. This man, no matter how sexy he was, probably had obscene amounts of money or credits or whatever. She wasn’t even sure how he’d been able to come to the planet. Was he a prisoner, too?

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

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M/M Shifter Romance Feature: Precog's Perception by Emily Carrington #teaser #excerpt #mmromance #lgbtq #shifterromance #rabtbooktours @CarringtonEmily @ChangelingPress @RABTBookTours

(Psychic Soulmates 1)

A SearchLight Paranormal Romance

LGBTQ+ Shifter Romance

Date Published: May 1, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

When the world doesn’t catch fire, Amaruq doubts his precognition. Can Nootaikok’s love heal him?

A stillborn pup, precognition unfulfilled, and raging guilt plague a trans werewolf. Amaruq’s suspicion that there’s something wrong with him, and that the death of his and Nootaikok’s child is his fault, colors all that he does. Traumatized, he denies himself pleasure.

Nootaikok will have none of that. He takes Amaruq on a “working vacation” back to the scene of Nootaikok’s greatest mistake. As both of them struggle with feelings of inadequacy and undeservingness, their bodies and souls still demand release.

Will their fears pull them apart or can passion lead back to love and forgiveness?

Excerpt

Copyright ©2026 Emily Carrington

They’d started their mentor/mentee relationship with letters. Amaruq didn’t know about Jeremy, but for him, the fear of being found out in this digital age inspired him to write physical correspondence. Amaruq had a feeling he should be sharing these concerns with his mate, but he couldn’t bear for Nootaikok to know how guilty he felt. So, he wrote to the Night Wanderer who had become his friend.

Dear Jeremy,

I hate what I have become. I’m a sneak who doesn’t know how to apologize to my lover for losing our child. I get it that a stillbirth isn’t exactly my fault. I did nothing to make it happen. The issue is that I don’t want to try again. Try for another baby. It wasn’t just losing our child, our pup, but the dysmorphia I endured being pregnant when I’ve worked so hard to be my authentic male werewolf self. I do not, no matter what, regret that Nootaikok and I were trying for a baby. I don’t. I just don’t want to try again. In spite of my precognitive vision. That future glimpse guarantees I’ll be pregnant again at some point, as I saw Nootaikok and I surrounded by werewolf pups of many ages. I just don’t want to be.

I also dread Nootaikok finding out.

Speaking of dread, I can easily believe Nootaikok is angry with me for making him leave his position in DC. I’m afraid of the argument we’ll eventually have. I just wanted to be near you, where I’ve always felt safe. That’s the wrong kind of emotion to have for someone who isn’t my mate. Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not sexually attracted to you in any way. It’s just that you rescued me from the hell of living under my parents’ roof and inspired me to become part of the Miscellaneous Magical Creatures Department. It’s just that, now that you’ve moved to DC, I want to return. I know Nootaikok wouldn’t get his job back, though, and I don’t want him to be humiliated by having to walk those same halls every day as just a tracker and not the head of the whole world’s Tracker Central.

He stopped his pen before he could disclose more about his fears. Surely this letter, which was basically a rambling jumble of all his terror, wouldn’t help anything.

He shredded the page and tossed it in the garbage can in the den. There would be no leaving it around for someone else to discover.

Today, Friday, was his last day of parental leave. On Monday, he’d be expected to resume his work at the MMCD. He needed to pull himself together.

With that in mind, Amaruq looked around the den and then down at himself. He still looked slightly pregnant. He’d been slowly exercising away the pounds he’d gained as he tried to make a hospitable home for their pup to grow. Since he was a werewolf, he wouldn’t look ready to deliver much longer. Maybe six weeks total, which would mean another week or two.

He headed for the doorway to the den, determined to go for a run and maybe, by doing so, make himself feel more grounded in his body and less like a spirit drifting over the earth, unattached to anything but pain.

* * *

They were arguing again. For crying out loud, Nootaikok thought, it’s like he’s my spouse instead of my tracker partner.

He glared at Luis, the psychic vampire with whom he’d been paired less than six months ago. Luis was, by all accounts, including his own, one of the best damn negotiators/spies/hunters/executioners in the United States. Luis’s prowess was matched only by the arrogance Nootaikok swore radiated off him in waves now. Funny, but the infernal psychic vampire hadn’t struck Nootaikok as full of himself when he’d accompanied Tilthos Charles to the international meeting of magical creatures that had happened over a year ago.

At first, when he and Luis initially began working together, Nootaikok had borne Luis’s grief and discontent. Luis’s former tracker partner had moved with his mate to the nation’s capital, and Luis had been understandably upset. He and his former partner had worked together for a decade or more, becoming one of the most formidable tracker teams in the world.

However, Nootaikok had been dealing with Luis’s grumpiness for close to half a year, and the frustration he felt was threatening to boil over.

He took in a breath, counting to five before releasing it soundlessly. “Luis,” he said, “I’m not injured. I heal as quickly as any werewolf, and I have earned the right to take the risks other trackers do. Please don’t hamper my working or your own. Going out without another tracker when I’m standing right here is foolish.” He paused, saw Luis was about to object, and added, “I don’t want to be the one to take your dead body back to Tilthos Charles.”

That last got through. Nootaikok could see it in the dropping of Luis’s shoulders and the way he pressed his lips together. Tilthos Charles, Charlie to those closest to him, was the alpha of their shared pack. He was also Luis’s mate and husband. Less than a year ago, Tilthos Charles had been the target of malicious intent from other werewolves and the former queen of the grand fae. He’d suffered what would have been called in humans of the 1900s a “nervous breakdown.” He’d been healed but, since it was less than twelve months since he’d recovered, Luis was understandably protective.

“Fine,” Luis muttered. “Are you ready to go?”

Nootaikok checked the gun in its holster at the small of his back. “Yes.”

“Come on then.” Luis strode out of his office, leading the way toward the back parking lot.

Nootaikok kept pace with him. “Tell me about this one.”

“Didn’t you read the briefing?” Luis demanded.

Sighing, Nootaikok answered, “She’s most likely a werewolf or half werewolf. It’s unlikely she’s from the United States as the humans she’s left alive say she spoke to them in a thick Russian accent. That doesn’t preclude her being from the US, though.”

“Or she’s been sent here.”

They settled into Luis’s car, which Nootaikok didn’t like, because it meant Luis got to drive. Luis was his alpha’s mate, and Nootaikok wasn’t a werewolf so dominance didn’t affect him as much. Still, he liked being in charge of his own transportation. Years of being the senior member of his own tracker team had spoiled him. Also, when he’d been the leader of Tracker Central in Washington, DC, he hadn’t been at anyone’s mercy.

“One of the sharpshooters managed to get a tag on her,” Luis said. “Let me check the GPS and see if she’s still where they left her.”

“She was in a village not too far from here,” Nootaikok said. He wanted to ask why the sharpshooter hadn’t taken her out since she’d been killing humans. Before he could formulate the question in a way that would possibly cause less offense, Luis cursed.

“She’s headed toward the pack house.”

Nootaikok pulled out his phone as Luis peeled out of the parking lot.

Luis commanded, “Call the house. Tell whoever’s there to get everyone inside.”

 

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.

 

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Paranormal Romance Feature: I Choose the Bear by Shiloh Walker #releaseday #newbooks #paranormal #romance #pnr #rabtbooktours @RABTBookTours

 

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: April 28, 2026

Ivy thought she'd found one of the good ones, a nice guy who respected her wishes, the guy all of her friends liked...and then they head to his family's lake house for a night to watch for an expected meteor shower. But Neill had his own plans in mind and when Ivy said no, he didn't like it.

Enter the bear.

Jonah, on a hiking trip with his best friend, Liam, after the unexpected death of the clan's Alpha, and Jonah's grandfather, is enjoying the last few hours of freedom he'll know for some time. He's known for a long time he'll be stepping into his grandfather's shoes and with the countdown ticking away, he relishes the peace and quiet. But then it's shattered by the shouts of an angry, frightened woman. Both Liam and Jonah take off running to investigate.

Just as they reach the edge of the property, the woman shouts, "You're the reason why women choose the bear, Neill."

Now...Jonah abides by the laws governing supernaturals. He doesn't reveal himself to be a shapeshifter. But walking out there in his bear skin isn't really revealing himself. And predators deserve to be frightened, don't they?

And when he sees Ivy...his whole world is upended.

Now isn't the time for him to fall in love. He has a clan to care for, challenges to hold off.

But love doesn't believe in being convenient and Jonah and Ivy on are a collision course. Will she choose the bear...and will his bear choose her?

About the Author

Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid... she fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more...ah... serious vampire stories. She loves reading and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, but most all anything romantic. Once upon a time, she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She also writes under the pen name J.C. Daniels.

Visit http://www.shilohwalker.com/website/newsletter-author-shiloh-walker/ to sign up for her newsletter and check out links to her FB page as well.

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LGBTQ Shifter Romance Feature: Para Schooled #excerpt #teaser #comingsoon #lgbtq #shifter #romance #Rabtbooktours @CarringtonEmily @ChangelingPress @RABTBookTours

LGBTQ+ Shifter Romance

Date Published: March 27, 2026

In every relationship, there’s always a choice. Choosing wrong may cost these heroes everything.

 

Werewolf’s Choice (Para Schooled 1)

Werewolf society has little tolerance for a lone wolf like Don, a man with a complicated past. It’s hard for him to learn to trust, yet pack life calls to his wolf nature. When two basilisks offer a chance at romance, Don refuses to accept anything more than a physical relationship. Will his stubbornness get him and his new partners killed?

 

Dark’s Lover (Para Schooled 2)

When Blagden, a Night Wanderer-Singer, meets Caleb, he is drawn to the Grand Fae’s struggle to accept his new life. Caleb’s son is blind and the Grand Fae have cast out all disabled children. But Blagden has a terrible secret. He inadvertently steals energy from those he loves. When SearchLight is attacked, Blagden must choose between the Fae he loves and his resolve never to steal energy again.

 

Kaito’s Silence (Para Schooled 3)

Kaito has always been attracted to werewolves of the opposite gender -- until he meets his new sign language tutor, a flamboyant wolf named Stefan. As Kaito struggles with his own sexuality, Stefan starts to feel like an experiment. Can their love thrive or will Kaito’s indecision push them apart?

EXCERPT

from Werewolf's Choice

For Don Sanderson, disabled werewolf, life couldn’t have been better.

He was three thousand miles from the pushy alpha werewolves of Washington, DC. He was starting a new job. And life was just great in general. He’d always wanted to travel and thought he’d never get the chance.

Mostly because of his wheelchair.

But here he was, rolling across the parking lot toward the carefully concealed entrance to the SearchLight Academy campus in California. It was early March and the whole of Death Valley was awash in wildflowers. The perfume in the air was glorious and he’d never felt so glad to be alive.

Well, all right, that was laying it on a bit thick. He recognized his desire, as a therapist, to be healthy and positive in his daily thoughts. This wasn’t perfect because Timothy wasn’t with him. Timothy, damn him, was gone.

Don paused to survey the flowers that crowded right up to the edge of the parking lot. He smiled. Come May or June, there wouldn’t be any flowers. The heat baking off the pavement could fry an egg. Or maybe even melt his tires. But for now, he was content to park outside instead of in the garage. He’d never thought to see Death Valley and get to celebrate its beauty.

Hell, he’d often thought he’d be under the flowers instead of surveying them. Werewolf culture had little tolerance for a lone wolf, and yet they didn’t want him to be part of a pack either. Disabled in more ways than one, he wasn’t desirable. Yet, they couldn’t just leave him be because “lone wolves are dangerous, ravenous beasts and separated from society, they often go insane.”

He’d been raised on that truth, but he wasn’t insane. He had a pack, of sorts. He had SearchLight. It wasn’t the same, and he knew it. Being in a wolf pack, surrounded by your kind, was like being given a drink of water after days of thirst. There was something that called to a wolf’s soul when it came to pack living. But Don had been nicknamed. His full name was Donald. Nicknaming was disrespectful, and he’d been ostracized. No one wanted him.

Well, maybe dead, they wanted him. But only SearchLight could use his talents as he was now: a therapist capable of helping others heal.

He entered the hidden passage, taking the gentle slope down toward the heart of SearchLight’s new campus for students of all ages. There had originally been only one SearchLight campus, in Washington, DC. Now there was this second campus, in the Mojave Desert, shielded from humans and dangerous magical creatures alike.

He traveled through the whispering silence and smiled when the almost creepy stillness was broken by laughter. This place was so new everything practically squeaked. There weren’t any security officers here, not until June, and only some of the professors had reported. He was supplemental staff, and technically he didn’t have to be here until April first, but he’d been so very glad to get out of DC…

There was housing here, as there wasn’t in the nation’s capital. Being all underground and far from usual human habitation, it was easier to have apartments here than in the Panamint Mountains, which were relatively nearby. Soon, Don would be hiding his car inside because he wouldn’t be going anywhere. But today was his first day and he’d longed to be outside with the fifty other cars.

They were hidden from standard human perception by leprechauns magic and other concealment spells, but right now, the parking lot was simply another place for anyone to leave their vehicle because the whole national park was open to visitors. Hiding in plain sight was SearchLight’s favorite trick.

It was still early, barely eight o’clock. He wheeled his way down to the cafeteria, following the signs, and thinking that he’d love to have breakfast in his own apartment. Even well-prepared food, when it was mass-produced, tasted nothing like home cooking.

When he was finally in the cafeteria, he balanced a tray on his lap and rolled through the line. He was aware of people looking at him but that was okay. His right leg ended just below his knee. It was normal for people to steal little glances in his direction. He had two psychic senses even though most LGBTQ werewolves only had one. He could always tell when he was being watched, particularly with negative intent, and he was a telekinetic. He could have rolled along with the tray floating an inch or two off his lap, but why show off? He drew plenty of attention without that.

Reaching a table that was specially designed to allow a wheelchair to roll underneath, he smiled. He was one of two wheelchair-bound staff, and there might be students coming in with similar disabilities. Since Dr. Sowerby’s decree, two years gone, that all SearchLight Academy buildings must be ADA compliant, more and more disabled magical creatures had flocked to the school designed for, and catering to, magical creatures.

“Do you mind if we join you?”

He glanced up as he set his tray on the table. It was a female who had spoken, a female basilisk, and he rapidly searched through the list of names he kept in his head. He didn’t know all of the faculty at the SearchLight Academy back East, but he thought… “Ms. Vaughn?”

She blinked beautiful golden-brown eyes at him. “We’ve never met. How do you know my name?”

“I’ve had students mention your classes.”

“That’s impossible,” she returned as she and the male basilisk with her sat down. “I’m not a teacher yet. This fall will be my first term.”

Confused, he ventured, “Aren’t you the languages expert, Ms. Susan Vaughn?”

Her companion chuckled. “Now I understand,” he said. “No, Susan is my sister. I’m Xavier Vaughn and this is my wife, Cassidy.” He briefly touched a light chain around his neck when he spoke.

Cassidy Vaughn smiled at her husband. Then she returned her attention to Don. “And you are?”

He hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to share his name but because he didn’t know how they would react to his nickname. He’d been known as “Don, the psychic wolf.” He’d been called deformed, not just because of his leg but because of his other disability and his status as a bisexual wolf.

“You’re the therapist, I think,” Xavier said. “I’ve seen you around the DC campus a couple of times.” He seemed to want to give Don a little more time because he continued. “I was filling in for Professor Boyle last fall when he took off time to write a book.”

“You were teaching parapsychology?” Don frowned slightly. “I’m sorry -- if I should remember you, I don’t.”

Xavier chuckled. “I have a way of fading into the background. It’s one of my psychic talents.”

Cassidy leaned forward and took a sip of her coffee. “What’s your name?”

Oh, to hell with it. Damned be all the stereotypes that went with a werewolf being given a nickname instead of his full born-with identifier. “I’m Don Sanderson. You’re right, I’m the head therapist here in Death Valley. I used to work off campus at the Healing House where attack victims and bullies alike were sent to recover and change their ways. I’ve only visited the campus twice…” Then he realized where Xavier might have seen him. “I gave a lecture on bullying behavior to all the professors and staff last fall.”

“That must be where I saw you.”

Something in Xavier’s reply made Don raise his eyebrows. But the male basilisk didn’t respond to the questioning look.

Cassidy was toying with a little key on a bracelet. She had a pleased smile on her face. Don turned his questioning look on her.

“Nothing,” she answered his glance. But she took Xavier’s hand and smiled at her husband as if they had a secret.

A rush of jealousy rushed through Don in that moment. He wanted so badly to be looked at in that way, where he held enigmas with a lover. He wished briefly that these two beautiful people were looking for a third...

 

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.

 

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2nd Chance Romance, Paranormal Suspense

Date Published: March 13, 2026

 

Cat’s come back to town. Jacob plans to keep her here.

When Catherine’s aunt dies in a suspicious accident, she comes back to her hometown to settle the estate. She expects it to be an easy job, but she doesn’t count on being chased by a pack of wild wolves, and an unknown enemy who sprays graffiti on the house and throws bricks through her windows. When the local police force proves less than helpful, it’s up to Cat to find out what’s going on with the help of her all too human lover, Jacob.

Known as the Mad Trapper, Jacob has been in love with Cat since high school. Now that she’s back in town he intends to show her that a human-shifter relationship can be just what a were-cat needs to keep her out of trouble.

 

EXCERPT

 

Cat could hear them behind her, howling in triumph as she streaked across the hard-crusted snow in the direction of town. Her breath was labored, coming in ragged gasps. There was only one place she could think of where she'd be safe, where the pack would be too afraid to follow her. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure she'd be any safer there than she was with the pack breathing down her neck.

She'd been away from Hunter's Canyon, her hometown in the frozen heights of the Rocky Mountain wilderness, for far too long. When she was barely more than a kitten halfway through high school, she'd migrated to the southern states where the temperatures were warm and life was easy. She'd forgotten how deadly the wolf packs could be when they found a bobcat wandering in the bush, alone. She prayed to any deity who'd listen that her latest mistake wouldn't prove to be fatal.

Up ahead, the lights of town twinkled invitingly. She could hear the music of the Dance Hall beckoning her with its cheerful lilt, but she veered away from it toward a log cabin at the closer edge of town. She squelched the arrow of fear that lanced through her, threatening to freeze her in her tracks.

The Mad Trapper lived in that cabin. They didn't call him Mad for nothing. The man defied all social norms, doing what he wanted when he wanted and be damned to all the gossips in town who thought he should behave himself. He'd been a gangly teenager the last time Cat had seen him, but she still remembered the surprising strength in his hands when he'd wrenched open the jaws of the trap. She'd been careless that day too, and back then the iron leg hold traps had been in common use. He'd rescued her from sure death, but then kept her locked in one of those damn dog carriers for days while he smeared smelly goop on the wound. She wasn't sure what was in the goop -- but it hurt like the devil.

In retrospect he'd probably saved her leg, but at the time she was sure he'd hurt her on purpose. The first time he'd left the door of the carrier unlatched, she'd escaped and fled out an open window. Soon after, her family had moved south and she'd barely given the awkward teen another thought. Now here she was heading for his doorstep, hoping he would save her. Again. Some things never change.

He'd expanded the cabin since she'd been away. The rickety front porch she remembered had been replaced with a deck that ran the full length of the house and wrapped around the side. Streaking up the wooden stairs, she plastered herself against the front door and turned to face her attackers.

For as long as she could remember, there had been a werewolf pack in town and at first, she had assumed it was them. She'd gone to grade school with Jack, the alpha. While he wasn't what she'd call a social butterfly, he was a nice enough guy for a werewolf. He'd have no compunctions about letting his pack chase her for a little fun and excitement, but he'd draw the line at actually hurting her.

When one of the mutts had managed to get close enough to rake his fangs down her hindquarters, she'd realized she was in trouble. These were real wolves, with a real desire to maim and kill. They were bigger than she was, and could probably outlast her in a flat out run. She just hoped their instinct for self-preservation would keep them away from the Mad Trapper's cabin.

So far, so good. The entire pack came to a halt a good ten feet from the deck, milling around on the front lawn in a seething pile of fur. The mutt who'd gotten his fangs on her seemed to be the ringleader, growling softly and trying in vain to urge the others forward. The rest of the pack didn't seem to be inclined to take his advice. A smaller bitch, with gray streaking her muzzle, snapped at him in annoyance when he tried to herd her forward. The mutt snarled softly and turned toward the deck. He made a quick rush that halted just shy of the stairway, his teeth glinting sharply in the bright light of the full moon.

Yeah, a full moon. She'd been dumb enough to decide to go for a run all by her lonesome on the night of a full moon. She arched her back, fluffing her fur up to make herself look larger than she really was while she hissed and spat at the wolf. If he decided to attack alone, she just might stand a chance of fighting him off. At least she hoped she did. Bobcats were no slouches in a fight. So long as his buddies didn't rush in to back him up, she could handle a wolf one on one.

Her side ached, and she could feel the muscles starting to stiffen. Great. It would probably scar too. She turned her head to swipe her tongue at the dripping blood. The wound was worse than she'd thought.

One of the pack, an older male, sat on his haunches and lifted his muzzle toward the moon. He began to howl, the sound wild and plaintive. One by one, the rest of the pack joined in.

Her attacker seemed torn, glancing between his intended prey and his brethren singing to the moon. If she could have, she would have crossed her fingers and wished for him to go back to his pack. Her head started to throb in time to the pain in her side, and she had to concentrate to stay on her feet. Shit! How much blood had she lost?

The rest of the wolves lost interest in her, turning their attention to the pack howl fest. Unfortunately, her attacker was too stubborn to give up just yet. Turning back to face her, he lifted his lips in a silent snarl and began to edge forward, slinking up the stairs.

"Well now. What do we have here?" The soft glow of firelight spilled out onto the deck as the door to the cabin swung open. "Ahh. So the cat really did come back. I heard you were back in town. Grown into a real nice kitty, I see. You might as well come in and let me put some salve on that scrape of yours."

Cat whirled to stare at the trapper in amazement. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the wolf pack melt silently into the night, the big mutt that had attacked her going with them. Her gamble had paid off. So far.

 

About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

 

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Paranormal Romance, MPreg

Date Published: March 13, 2026

 

A death mage turns out to be the perfect mate for a human omega.

 

Lucas Krauss is getting used to being out of a nightmare and acclimating to life with Saridan Tower. His mate is a death mage, one of the deadliest kinds of vamps, and now they are sorting out their lives as a family.

Raphael Santos isn’t fazed by the looks and whispers he gets from passers-by. His status is unmistakable due to his pale skin and the aura that surrounds him. He never thought he’d find his mate, yet a sweet human omega is more than happy to touch him, unafraid of Raphael’s true nature.

But not all is well. House Lorthaen makes it clear that they are not going to leave House Saridan alone, and Raphael vows to protect his family, no matter what.

 

WARNING: Mpreg, Alpha/omega, Fated Mates, Hurt/Comfort.

 

EXCERPT

 

Lucas

Everything hurt. Not as bad as when I’d… well… when a human cop had swooped in, ready to obliterate Gino Boone. Gino had the jump on him, though, and ate a bullet like a fucking coward. I was happy to be out of that nightmare, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about being here now. The head of House Saridan, Deacon, and another vamp had visited me in the hospital and brought me here to Saridan’s Tower. Outside this apartment, I still didn’t feel entirely comfortable, but when Raphael was around, that all changed.

He was my mate. I didn’t need any sort of test to tell me that either. My gut instinct had made it crystal clear the second the man had walked into my hospital room with Deacon.

When we’d arrived here at the tower, I’d noticed others gave Raphael a wide berth. I couldn’t fathom why, though. He’d told me what he was: a death mage. His magic was the kind that manipulated a being’s life force. There seemed to be a faint aura of… something around him everywhere he went. It didn’t scare me, though. He might’ve terrified others, even other vamps, but not me. In private, he was attentive, almost to the point of being a mother hen. He was soft-spoken and gentle, far more than I ever expected someone like him could be.

The wounds from the beating Gino had given me were healing, though I was still sore. The worst part, though, was not knowing how the rest would play out. Gino had whored me out to random bastards, and, at some point, I got pregnant. Raphael knew, but unlike most alphas, he didn’t seem upset about it.

As I sat on the bed, I put a hand on my still-flat belly. I had no clue whose kid I was now carrying, but I’d always wanted a family. I prayed Raphael didn’t want to get rid of it. We hadn’t had much time to talk since, apparently, there was a rival vamp House determined to bring House Saridan down.

The apartment door opened, and I knew who it was without needing to hear or see him. Of course, no one else would come in here, but Raphael didn’t even need to announce himself.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he stepped to the bedroom doorway.

He hurried over to the bed and crouched in front of me, his height putting us at eye-level. He ran his fingers through my hair, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes and smile. His touch was so gentle and loving.

“I’m okay.”

I caught his hand and brought it to my mouth to kiss the tips of his fingers. We’d only hugged, not even a single kiss in the couple of weeks I’d been here, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait for him to make a move. Aches or not, I couldn’t deny how attracted I was to him.

Raphael smiled. “Did you rest well?”

I nodded. “Slept like a baby, actually.”

His gaze shifted downward the slightest bit, and my breath caught. His smile was wistful. “We need to talk, you and I.” He looked back up at me. “Are you hungry?”

“I could definitely eat.”

Before he could move away and stand, I gripped his hand tighter. Raphael met my gaze, those almost white eyes mesmerizing. I didn’t need to say another word. He cupped the back of my neck with his other hand and pulled me closer.

I couldn’t recall the last time I’d kissed anyone. I certainly never let any of Boone’s guys do it. It was an act so intimate, so personal, that I’d fought to save it for someone special.

Someone like Raphael.

His touch was featherlight, and his lips were surprisingly soft. I opened for him without hesitation. He took his time, tongue stroking over mine, never trying to take control or push the kiss into harder territory. I could’ve kissed him for the rest of my life and never tired of it. He tasted like the peppermint candies I’d discovered he had an affinity for, and a slightly minty scent swirled in my head.

“If we don’t stop now,” he murmured on my lips, “we’ll never get out of here.”

I chuckled. “In all honesty, I’d started to wonder if maybe this attraction was one-sided.”

Raphael pulled back a little and caressed the side of my face. “Never. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you in the hospital. You needed to heal, though.” He raised one eyebrow at me. “You still do.”

“I’ll admit I’m a little achy, but… please? I promise I’ll tell you if I need to stop.”

“Tell you what. Let’s go eat. We can talk about us, including the baby.”

I swallowed and stared into his eyes, searching for a hint of what he was thinking. “I… I want to keep it. I’m sorry.”

“Never apologize for something you didn’t do,” Raphael said. “And certainly don’t do it with regards to our child.”

Our child.

I somehow managed to blink away the threat of tears. He wanted to keep the baby, too?

Raphael stood and helped me up as well. “Come on, mate. Food and talking.”

After I got dressed, I followed him out of the apartment, my hand held gently in his. I’d worried how he would react to my statement, and I kind of felt like I was in a daze as he led us to the elevator and down to the tower’s main dining room. According to Deacon, there were fifteen floors, with his place as the penthouse at the top. Then there were several floors for residents and the main dining hall. Raphael’s apartment was a single-bedroom and much larger than one would expect.

Until now, we’d had food brought up to us, but I’d told him yesterday I wanted to try to go out and be around others. I’d spent so long being terrified, but now that I was safe, I wanted my life back.

* * *

Raphael

To say I was proud would’ve been an understatement. Not only was my infatuation mutual, but Lucas was also venturing out of the apartment for the first time since we’d brought him here about two weeks ago. I’d known what he was to me the moment I’d seen him at the hospital. My magic gave me the ability to detect things like that without the need for blood. Despite what folks thought, not all of my magic was relegated to death. It was why I’d moved him from his own small room to my apartment. I could take care of him and the baby without worrying so much.

The idea that I was finally going to be able to have a child thrilled me to no end. It didn’t matter to me who the biological father was, and I’d hoped Lucas would want to keep the baby. We sat at a table in the dining room, and one of the servers walked over to us, his smile genuine. Out of all the guys in here, he was my favorite. He never acted like I was some kind of pariah. I didn’t ask to be a Spiritori, but I also didn’t regret it.

“Hey, stranger,” Dale said to me as he handed us our menus. “How have you been? And… who’s the cutie?”

Lucas blushed and chuckled softly, lowering his gaze. I smiled at him, then up at Dale.

“Doing quite well. Dale, this is my mate, Lucas. Lucas, this is Dale, one of the best servers here.”

They shook hands, and Dale shot me a wink. “It’s great to meet you, Lucas. What can I get you both to drink?”

“Usual for me,” I replied, referring to lemon water with a sprig of mint. “Lucas?”

“Um… do you have unsweet tea?”

“We sure do,” Dale said. “I’ll have those out in a moment.”

He left, and I reached over the table to touch Lucas’ hand. He turned it palm up and linked our fingers together. It felt amazing.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore, like I said, but getting better. I don’t know what sort of docs your boss has employed here, but they’re damn good.”

I nodded. “That they are. I’ve had a few bumps and scrapes from work over the years.”

Lucas tilted his head slightly, his gaze questioning. “Have people always treated you like you’re contagious?”

I laughed. “For the most part, yes. You sure it doesn’t bother you?”

“Doesn’t faze me at all,” Lucas said with a slight shrug. “It’s who you are. Besides, death mage stuff aside, I’ve seen the real you in private.”

This time, I swear I felt myself blush, if that was possible. I’m sure my pale face was certainly a bit pinker. “Believe it or not, I much prefer diplomacy when presented with the option. Unlike my coworkers, namely the Venari, I’m not a violent person. Not inherently a pacifist, mind you, but I try my best to avoid fights.”

“Do you enjoy being a Spiritori?”

Dale returned with our drinks, and we ordered our food. I waited until he left again before replying to the question many folks have asked me over the majority of my life. I took a sip of my lemon water and sighed.

“As a child, I often wished I’d been born something else, to be completely honest.” I gestured to myself. “No matter where I went, people knew what I was. Same thing happened to my alpha father. It’s useful in many circumstances, but the stigma is incredibly prevalent. It’s why my folks divorced. My omega dad got tired of the looks, whispers, what have you, whenever they went somewhere.”

“Damn,” Lucas muttered. He reached across the table and gripped my fingers gently. “I’m sorry.”

I smiled. “Thanks. But enough about me. I want to hear all about you. The past couple of weeks have been a bit nuts, between you healing and Deacon’s ongoing issues with Lorthaen. We haven’t had a lot of time together.”

“Not much to tell, really,” Lucas said. “I had an older brother, but he died in a car accident when I was twelve. My dads are still alive, though my omega father isn’t doing too well. We think it’s dementia.”

“Wow. That has to be hard on them both.”

Lucas nodded. “My alpha dad is his primary caregiver now, utterly devoted. I moved out about four years ago, but I still visit.”

“Dare I ask how you ended up working for Boone?”

He grimaced and visibly shuddered. “A ‘friend,’” he replied, using air quotes with his free hand. “Needless to say, dude is no longer anyone I speak to. Hell, Boone had me blindfolded anytime he whored me out, so my ex-friend could’ve been one of the assholes to use me.”

I wanted to erase the pain from that entire situation, but I couldn’t. Before I could answer, Dale came by with our food. We tucked into it, and I couldn’t help but grin when Lucas moaned in appreciation.

“Told you,” I said. “Deacon spares no expense.”

 

 

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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Paranormal Romance, Capture Fantasy

Date Published: January 23, 2026

She’s an urban legend. He’s adrift. With a little magic, they’ll discover their fates are entwined.

Amanda Fortune never expected to be left in the lake, but after her murder and subsequent dumping, that’s exactly where she is. She’s become an urban legend, her ghost seen only by a very few. She longs to have a second chance at life, but that’s not possible when you’re dead. Is it?

With the right circumstances, anything is possible.

Sawyer Gibson doesn’t know what he’s meant to do in life. He has abilities to read the Fates, but his talents aren’t needed in the town of Eerie. Everyone here has magic. He’s nothing special. But Aunt Chloe is dying, and she knows more than Sawyer ever thought possible. Amanda is -- was -- her best friend. So Aunt Chloe sends Sawyer on a chase to find Amanda’s killer.

But Amanda’s a myth. A ghost. And ghosts can’t be seen, right?

The moment Sawyer lays eyes on Amanda, he’s smitten. There’s the tiny problem of her being a ghost… but that detail won’t stop Sawyer, even if someone else thinks it will.

 

EXCERPT

 

Amanda wandered the woods along the north end of the lake. She didn’t have much else to do. Campers were around, scattered about the grassy area, and even a few picnickers, but none of them could see her. She hated this existence. She had no one to talk to, no one to spend time with. She missed the simple interaction of being with other people.

But those were the things Claude had taken from her. He’d ruined her life, but he’d also robbed her of her future. She should hate him. Should be burning with the hottest, nuclear anger toward him.

She could be, but why? Would it bring her life back?

No.

She might as well focus on anything else but the past.

Something rustled in the woods and for a moment, she ignored the sound. Everything in the woods made noise. Animals, the wind, water… it all created disturbance. But this one was different. A shiver ran the length of her spine. She hadn’t felt this way since that night.

She ducked behind a tree, knowing she’d never be seen, but wanting a private vantage point to locate the noise.

A hooded figure strode through the trees to the edge of the water.

The shiver increased when the figure leaned over and touched the rippled surface of the lake. She knew that hand and recognized the shark tattoo. Didn’t have to see the rest of the person to know who stood there -- Claude.

She froze, not wanting him to know she could see him. Could he see her? He hadn’t for the last fifty years, but that didn’t matter. He churned her stomach. She clutched the tree bark. The sooner he left, the better.

“She’s dying,” Claude said. “The last one to know what happened is dying. I can’t steal her magic, too, but I can rejoice in her going. My secret went with you to the grave, but she figured some of it out. No one else did. I’d silence her, but I can’t do that. Can’t kill anyone.”

He couldn’t kill this person, but he’d murdered her! What a jerk. Amanda trembled, despite her best efforts to stay still.

“Won’t be long now. She’ll be gone and any last chance of anyone knowing will be gone. The cops didn’t catch me. No one believed I could do it,” Claude said. “They wouldn’t have understood. I needed your magic. I needed to own you. You’d never have used that magic properly, but I could. We were expected to be together because you had to give yourself to me. It always had to end with your magic being mine.”

She wanted to scream. He’d never loved her. Couldn’t. Not when he wanted to destroy her.

“But now it’ll be our secret. You gave me what I needed and you’re where you were always meant to be.” He patted the water. “Always.”

He stood, then adjusted the sweatshirt, keeping his face hidden. He turned away from her vantage point and shuffled back through the woods.

Every cell in her existence screamed to keep away from him, but she followed. What else could he do to her? Kill her a second time? Was that even possible?

She navigated through the trees to the edge of the woods. She hadn’t gone this far in so long. There hadn’t been much reason. Now there was. She had to see where he was going and what in the name of Hera he was doing now that he’d come to haunt her.

Claude stopped at the larger picnic area in the park. A man sat alone at one of the tables and flipped through a book while holding a tablet. The guy seemed completely lost in thought.

Claude, now well over seventy years old but still the bully, shoved the book off the table and laughed. “Stop looking for the Lady of the Lake. She doesn’t exist,” he snapped and barely broke stride.

Amanda stopped short. The Lady of the Lake? There was someone else here? A kindred spirit? She had to find this lady and meet her. Maybe this other woman would know how to get away from the damn water.

“Thanks, ass,” the man said and picked up his book. “Dick.”

She wanted to find the Lady but was also intrigued by this man. She inched closer.

A child, running with a plastic disc turned just as she passed Amanda and her eyes widened. “Momma!”

Amanda paused. She wondered what had spooked the child. She ducked behind a tree and listened for the little girl and parent.

“Momma, I saw the Lady,” the girl said. “Right there.”

She peeked out from her hiding spot long enough to look for the Lady. She didn’t see anyone.

“You’re imagining things,” the mother said. “The Lady of the Lake is a story made up to scare kids.”

Amanda bit back a groan. That was a downer. A fib for kids…

The man looked up from his book. “It’s not a story,” he replied. He closed the book and picked up the tablet. “Actually, it’s considered an urban legend, but there’s fact behind the legend.”

The mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t butt in and scare my kid. She’ll have nightmares because of you.”

“But Mom, I saw her,” the little girl said. “She had dark hair, blue skin and was pretty.”

Amanda ducked back behind the tree. She really had to find this woman. Any company would be better than none.

The woman and her child left the picnic area and when Amanda emerged from her spot, she stepped right into the man’s path. If she’d had breath, it would’ve stopped or clogged in her throat.

He was a beautiful man. Young -- compared to her -- and handsome. With dark hair, dark eyes and a studious look to him. The long-sleeved shirt accentuated his thin frame and the glasses gave him an air of sophistication. He didn’t walk with a swagger, but instead a quiet confidence.

“Oh, my,” she gasped. “Wow.”

“Excuse me?” He met her gaze. “What did you say?”

She froze. He’d heard her? “I’m sorry?”

He cocked his head. “Where are you?”

So he couldn’t see her? Good. She faded into the woods, rushing to the north end, to her safe haven. No one had seen her there in years -- if ever -- and no one would see her now.

“I know I heard you.” The man drifted through the woods. “Please, don’t hide from me.”

She had no choice. No one else had believed she was there and this guy might be looking for the Lady of the Lake. She wasn’t that Lady. She was nobody.

She glanced back and noticed the man. He’d bent over and rested his hands on his knees. He puffed as if he were trying to keep up with her. His bag slid forward and dangled along his side.

“I’ve done the research. I know the story. You’re here. I can feel you.” He stood upright but kept puffing. “She wouldn’t lie to me. She led me here. Told me where I should find you. Told me to find you. I need to do this for her.”

She balled her hands. “Who?” She snapped her mouth shut. She’d wanted to stay hidden, but her curiosity would get her into trouble again.

He sank onto one of the rocks at the edge of the water. “I hear you. Where are you?”

“I can’t show you.”

“Please?”

“No.” If she could have this conversation with him, then something was different about him.

“Why?”

“I don’t know you. Can’t trust you.” It was the truth. Others claimed to be looking for her, but they hadn’t found her. Not the detectives, the amateur sleuths, or anyone else.

“You can,” he said. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, then sighed. “When I was a little boy, my aunt told me about her friend, Amanda. She said her friend was a lovely person and so sweet, but she disappeared. For the rest of her life, my Aunt Chloe wanted to know what happened to her friend.”

“Chloe?” She didn’t venture closer, but the mere mention of the name pricked her curiosity again.

“My mother’s sister. Do you know Chloe? Or Marie, my mother?” he asked. “My mother died five years ago, but Chloe held on. Her magic is fading.”

“No,” she whispered. Chloe had the strongest magic. She should be just fine.

“She told me you liked being here. She said this was your favorite place and you’d spend hours among the trees and around the water, existing in nature. She said you might have even been part woodland nymph because you were here so much. She loved the nights you’d go dancing together, and the days spent talking and mixing spells,” he said. “She said she was never the same after you disappeared.”

“No?” She couldn’t be excited. Not yet. She needed some detail only the true Chloe would know. Something only she could tell this man. “I can’t trust you.”

“I know you can’t.” He sighed again. “Why would you?”

The last man she’d thought she could trust had murdered her.

“She knew about the abuse and that you wanted to get away. She was trying to figure out a plan to get you out of that house without him knowing. To this day, she deals with the guilt of not working fast enough. You deserved better.”

She emerged from behind the tree. “What did he steal from me?” If he knew this, then he’d spoken to Chloe. Only her best friend would remember she never let go of her locket.

“Besides your magic? He stole your necklace,” the man said. “It was your favorite piece of jewelry.”

“Why?” She held onto the tree for stability, even if her legs weren’t holding her up.

“Because it came from your mother and was one of the few things you had to remember her by.”

If she’d been standing on her feet, she would’ve collapsed. “Who are you?”

“Sawyer Gibson.” He stood and held out his hand. “I don’t know where you are, but I hear you and I want to see you. I want to help you.”

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

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