Tag Archives: LGBTQ

by | June 25, 2025 · 5:00 am

Jack & Gil Preorder Blitz

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LGBTQ, Paranormal Romance, Shifters

Date Published: June 27, 2025

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

 

 

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

Rhyme of Longing (Jack & Gil 2)

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

Rhyme of Love (Jack & Gil 3)

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

Jack & Gil paperback

 

Excerpt from Rhyme of Longing

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

 

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host
of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily
has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate
quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her
website.

 

Author Links

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

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

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

 

 

 

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by | May 14, 2025 · 5:00 am

The Dark Side Blitz

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LGBTQ+, BDSM, Paranormal Romance

Date Published: May 16, 2025

 

 

Welcome to The Dark Side, where the line between love and lust blurs with
dangerous passions.

The Dark One by Angela Knight

Matia of Ruza is one of the legendary Battlemaids — a woman warrior who
has taken an oath of celibacy in service of the Maid of Light. Kaska intends
to make Matia the centerpiece in a sizzling erotic ritual in honor of his
god.

Chain of Thorns by Will Okati

Riven finds himself trapped and enslaved by a powerfully seductive alien.
Where is the line between fantasy and reality — slavery and love?

BloodWolf by Sierra Dafoe

Centuries ago an ancient evil turned Baudouin Delacor into a beast for
which there had never before been a name — the BloodWolf. Delacor has only
one hope left: that by destroying the succubus, he can free himself of its
curse.

 

The Dark Side paperback

 

EXCERPT

Excerpt from The Dark One (Angela Knight)

 

Kaska of Artane slowed his stallion to an easy amble. Prince Britar’s
fortress lay a full day away, and he’d ridden poor Warbringer hard this past
month. He knew the Prince awaited the intelligence he’d gathered as a spy in
neighboring Trovan but laming his horse would serve no purpose.

Particularly with war on the horizon.

Besides, the last time Kaska had come this way, he’d had to battle the
local brigands. Two fell to his blade before the rest fled, but that left
five. And they might be in the mood for revenge. I don’t care to ride
headlong into an ambush.

“Whoreson bastards!” A woman’s roar of fury brought Kaska’s head
up. He drew Warbringer to a prancing halt.

Swords clashed, interspaced with male taunts and laughter. The laughter had
a distinctly ugly note. The woman swore again, an edge of grim desperation
in her voice.

The thieves had found a new victim.

Kaska set his heels to Warbringer’s flanks and thundered up the road toward
the sound. Rounding the bend, he saw five men fighting a lone female
traveler they’d managed to unhorse. He recognized the dented, rusted armor
and unshaven faces; it was indeed the same band of thieves.

But their victim was no common woman. Her armor and sword marked her as a
follower of the Maid of Light — a female warrior. She was tall for a woman,
with a lithe, muscular build and pretty breasts barely contained by her
intricately embossed breastplate. Long black hair swirled around her face as
she spun and hacked at her tormentors with a slim sword designed for a
woman’s hand.

One of the brigands already lay dead at her feet, but four others remained,
odds too great even for one of the legendary Battlemaids.

A grin of sheer, savage joy spread across Kaska’s face. With a howl, he
drew the blade sheathed across his back and kicked Warbringer into a
thundering charge.

The nearest of the brigands whirled too late. Kaska took his head with a
single stroke.

Another of the men jumped at him, hacking for his thigh with an axe, but
Kaska spun Warbringer aside and thrust his blade into the thief’s chest. The
man tumbled off the lethal point, gurgling out his life.

Meanwhile, the third brigand fell to the Battlemaid’s sword. His head
tumbled from his shoulders.

The fourth man looked from Kaska to the thieves’ would-be victim,
calculated the odds, and took to his heels.

Kaska snatched a dagger from his thigh sheath and hurled it at the coward
with an expert flip of his wrist. The man went down, the blade buried to the
hilt between his shoulder blades.

Scarcely breathing hard, Kaska turned to the maid. “Are you
well?”

“Well enough.” She studied him, her dark eyes level. There was a
sharp and elegant beauty to her face, with its broad, high cheekbones and
square little chin. Her lush mouth could inspire a monk to carnal
fantasies.

“My thanks, warrior,” she said at last in a low, husky voice,
pushing the long black hair out of her face. “There were too many of
them for me to best alone.” She considered him, appraising the width of
his chest and the strength of his sword arm. Female appreciation lit her
gaze, mixed with a warrior’s caution.

She had reason for that caution, for he meant to challenge her himself. He
worshiped the Dark One, and his god relished nothing as much as the moans of
a defeated Battlemaid.

Imagining the tight grip of her virgin ass, Kaska felt his cock swell
behind his loincloth.

Give her time to rest, and then…

Of course, the maid might well kill him instead, but looking at her long
legs and full, sweet breasts, Kaska thought it a chance well worth
taking.

But as he opened his mouth to warn her of his intent, all color left the
Battlemaid’s face. Her eyes rolled up. Kaska threw himself from Warbringer’s
back as she collapsed in a heap.

Two long strides carried him to the maid’s side. Dropping to one knee on
the dusty road, Kaska began an anxious examination. He found no wounds on
the front of her body, so he rolled her onto her back.

The maid groaned and lifted her head. “Wha –?”

“Seems one of your cur attackers landed a blow after all,” he
told her grimly. “There’s a stab wound in your back just under your
backplate, over your left hip.”

“Aye,” she said, letting her head fall. “One of them had a
dagger.”

“‘Tis not deep, but it bleeds still,” Kaska said. “I can
treat it, if you permit.”

“Aye,” the maid said, breathing now in shallow pants. “My
thanks.”

Kaska nodded and rose to retrieve his pack of battlefield medicines from
Warbringer. Well, he thought as he walked to his horse, I won’t be
challenging her any time soon. Not with that wound.

Later, perhaps. When he’d examined her, he’d noticed she had a truly
delicious ass.

He wanted it.

 

About the Authors

 

Angela Knight:

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published
more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and
Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades,
Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement
award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards
for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.

Sierra Dafoe:

An award-winning author who received three CAPA nominations in her first
year of publishing, Sierra Dafoe has gone on to receive numerous awards and
recommended reads for her work. Check her website for free stories, a link
to her readers’ group, sneak peeks, and all her latest news. Sign up for her
newsletter to be entered in her monthly contest, and reach out through the
“contact” page — she loves hearing from her readers!

Will Okati:

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting
Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and
ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as
ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of
the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always
a work in progress.

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

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by | May 1, 2025 · 5:00 am

Gatos Blitz

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(Cat O’Nines)

 

LGBTQ+, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance

Date Published: May 2, 2025

 

 

Catkind — they’re rough, they’re tough and they don’t take no for an
answer. But who’d want to say no? Not Gabriella, a barmaid in a tiny
roadhouse named Gatos near the Mexican border. Nor her sister Marnie. With
his sisters carried off by the Catkind, Tony’s left to run Gatos, but he
won’t be alone — a couple of misfit “alley cats” have joined
forces with Tony.

Lucia’s a party girl with two hot, hunky Catkind on her trail. Orion, a
white Tiger, and Jomei, a Bengal, are royalty among the Catkind. They’re
about to learn Lucia’s much more than a pretty face. When the four Gatos
siblings return with their Catkind mates for a final showdown against their
nemesis, Anuetta thinks she’s got these tigers by their tails, but she
doesn’t count on the mighty strength of the Gatos family. The line’s been
drawn in the ashes, and the claws are out!

This collection contains the previously released novellas in the Cat
O’Nines collection: Cat’s Claws, Cat’s Eye, Cat’s Cradle, Cat’s Meow, and
Cat’s Paw.

 

Gatos paperback

EXCERPT

 

Excerpt from Cat’s Claws

“So there I am, standing in the middle of the street, screaming at him
en Espanol. I’m calling him things our abuela would turn over in her grave
to hear me say. And then she’d wash my mouth out with soap.”

“Lucia, when are you going to learn?” Gabriella unlocked the door
to Gatos’ cold storage unit. “You stay away from men like him. They’re
trouble.”

Lucia, her sister, had the fire of a Roman candle and a temper to match.
She jammed her hands on her hips in indignation. “Like you have room to
talk,” she shot back.

“I do. Do you see me getting tangled up with any troublemakers like
him?” She yanked open the door, and cold air escaped with a whoosh.
“Uh-uh. Oh, that’s good.” Gabriella closed her eyes and swayed in
bliss. It was a gorgeous day outside in the shabby outskirts of San Miguel,
the sky pure blue and the horizon clear for miles. Which meant it was hot
enough to suit the devil himself, especially back in the warehouse. She let
herself enjoy the cool air coming from the cold storage unit for a moment,
then got back to business. She nudged the handcart. “Come on, you take
one crate and I’ll take the other.”

“We shouldn’t roll out a keg?”

“If you think you can manhandle a keg in heat like this, dolly or no
dolly, you’re welcome to try. Grab a case for now. Tony can get the rest
later.” Gabriella sized up the hefty crate stamped with the Moctezuma
 Brewery logo. Nothing tasted as good or as rich as their cervesa. Moctezuma
 was why locals bothered traveling to her tiny, out-of-the-way bar. If the
brew master hadn’t been a friend of her brother Tony, no way she’d have
gotten her mitts on any of their goods. “Come on, Lucia, put your back
into it.”

Lucia pouted briefly before bending and lifting the crate. Tendons stood
out in her neck from the effort as she wrestled a heavy crate onto the
dolly. “We need some strong young stud for this.”

“And there you go again, thinking about men,” Gabriella chided.
“I’m not saying I wouldn’t like to have a strong young thing around,
especially if he’s hot, eh? I’m saying we can get by fine without one. You
seem to think that’s a mortal sin, which is why I’m listening to you pitch a
fit in the street.” She tempered the sting of her words with the
fondness of her tone.

Gabriella shut the door to the cold storage unit and clicked the padlock
back in place before taking the handle of the dolly. Oof. She had to admit,
the crates were terribly heavy. Together they headed back to the main room
of Gatos, the tiny tumbledown bar that had been their sole legacy from their
mother.

Not exactly a rich and abundant inheritance. Ah, well, Mama had
tried.

Lucia was still stuck back on Gabriella’s opinions. “You’re telling me
if a man like Roger came on to you, you’d say no? He looked so pretty.”
She swung around to walk backwards. “Those cornflower blue eyes and his
soft golden hair. Like a prince out of a fairytale.” Her pleading
turned wicked. “And good in bed? He was a devil when it came to loving
me.”

“And how many other women at the same time?” Gabriella bumped
open the swinging kitchen door. “Would I say no to a man like Roger?
Hell, no, I wouldn’t. But…”

Lucia rolled her eyes.

“But,” Gabriella went on, not letting Lucia’s scorn stop her,
“I’d say yes long enough to enjoy his body. If he’s as good as you say,
I’d have fun with him for a few days then send him packing. No harm, no
foul, and no broken heart that needs someone to sweep up the
pieces.”

Lucia scoffed. “You wouldn’t know how to let your hair down if someone
gave you a hands-on demonstration.”

Gabriella’s pride was stung. “Says you!”

“You’re right, says I. You want to make a bet on this? Friday night’s
tip jar says you don’t have the guts to take the next handsome guy who walks
into Gatos for a test run.”

Ay, Lucia had her there. Gabriella could never back down from a challenge.
“I’m listening. What are the terms?”

Lucia stretched her muscles out before unlocking the cooler. “So we
have a deal?”

“Not yet.” Gabriella pulled the dolly close enough to the cooler
to unload it. “Let me hear the details before I say yes or
no.”

“Like you would,” Lucia smirked. “All right, here’s the
deal. When we open tonight, you and I man the bar. When the first hot guy
walks in, one I decide is enough of a handful for even you, I point him out
and that’s when the game begins. You come on to him, you do whatever you
have to do, and if he’s safe you get him into bed.”

“I’m not a slut,” Gabriella objected, all the while hoisting
crates and holding them for Lucia to unpack and stow in the cooler.
“And how am I supposed to know if he’s ‘safe’?” She dusted off her
hands after the last bottle was stashed away. “You have to give me more
than that to go on. I’m supposed to proposition a customer? That’ll give me
a great reputation.”

Lucia shrugged smugly. “So you’re saying no? You’re backing down
already?”

About the Author

Lia Connor lives in the South, but her job takes her almost everywhere but.
Her laptop is her best friend. Lia loves stories about BBW’s, hot,
hot, hot threesomes and wily shifters who get into (and out of) all kinds of
trouble…

 

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

 

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by | April 23, 2025 · 5:00 am

Chasing Magic Blitz

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Chasing Magic cover

Not In Use (#1)

 

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Romance

Date to be Published: April 25, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

Love — and Magic — find desperate lovers in unlikely places.

Chase: It is a madness that draws Chase to the Louisiana bayou, leaving his
sister and his art studio behind. The fact that he longs to strip off his
clothes and run naked through the swamp with the wild creatures who live
there isn’t his first clue that something isn’t right with him… but it
just might be his last.

A Painter’s Price: Jason has studied the Painter for years, but when he
finally meets Eric he’s not prepared for the powerful erotic feelings the
artist provokes in him. His need to touch Erik slowly overrides every other,
until there is nothing he can do but surrender, mind, body and soul.

Rythan’s Becoming: Rythan knows he must harness his sexual energy and burn
through his shell to truly Become an adult. But Becoming also requires the
help of his catalysts, a pair of adults he’s never met, and water doesn’t
combine easily with fire and air. Can Rythan pass the final test and meet
his Destiny?

 

Chasing Magic tablet

Excerpt from A Painter’s Price

Copyright ©2025 Kira Stone

 

This is one fine orgy. The self-congratulatory thought filtered through
Erik’s lust-fueled mind as he licked expensive red wine off the impressive
cock bobbing before his lips. Who his mystery lover was, Erik couldn’t say.
He had a nice meaty shaft, though. Not terribly long, but wide enough to
split a man open. Erik’s sphincter spasmed just from imagining the feel of
that thick cock sliding into him.

Salty-sweet pre-cum hit his tongue. He gave his lover’s ass a slap to bring
forth another drop. Nectar of the gods, as far as Erik was concerned. Every
man tasted different, and yet he loved them all.

“Oh, fuck me,” the man whimpered around his mouthful of Erik’s
cock.

“Not this time.”

The spirit was willing, but the body grew weak. He’d been going at it, in
one form or another, for several days now. The need for a long,
uninterrupted sleep gnawed at him. He was hard pressed to keep his eyes
open. Silently promising to make it up to his lover later, if he remembered,
Erik sucked in earnest.

His lover attempted to return the attention. Erik winced as teeth caught
his sensitive skin. All the more reason to end this quickly, he decided. At
the moment, this man needed more education than he had the patience
for.

His lover bucked and groaned under him. It didn’t take long to coax him
into orgasm. Seed spilled across Erik’s tongue in a honey-sweet river. He
drank down every last drop, feeling it was his due for the hard work he’d
put in.

Under his guidance, the man continued to pleasure him with hand and mouth.
Finally a weak orgasm rolled through Erik in quiet surrender, proving he’d
been right about his need for a lengthy respite. He might have stayed awake
long enough to mumble a word of praise before he lost himself in the warm,
dark embrace of sleep.

* * *

A cool breeze ripped through the room some time later. The long brocade
curtains surrounding the bed writhed, and the firelight flickered as though
it were about to die in its wake. That alone would not have disturbed Erik
from his well-earned slumber. No, a great booming voice startled him out of
a deep sleep.

“Since you love your art above all else, I hereby sentence you to an
eternity of creation.”

“What?” Fear trickled through the horrible hangover clouding
Erik’s brain. Though he couldn’t yet see the shadowy figure standing beside
the bed through his bloodshot eyes, he recognized the voice. The king’s mage
was not pleased, and that was never a good thing.

“For the rest of your life, you will produce some of the finest art
ever created.”

Well, that didn’t sound so bad. Painting was, after all, his passion.
“Errrr… thank you.”

A sneer entered the mage’s voice as he continued. “Your creative
energies will be your only sustenance. You will not eat or drink or sleep.
You will not be troubled by mortal weaknesses except on the one night a year
when the price of being the greatest painter alive must be paid to me, a
fragment of your inner spirit to be given to a vessel of my choosing. You
will exist solely to create… until your soul is empty.”

Now that last bit seemed a little extreme. Honestly, Erik didn’t know what
good his soul was doing for him, but he didn’t think it would be wise to go
around without one. “Is that really necessary? Painting is all I’m good
at anyway.”

“Painting… and debauchery. The king has lost all patience with
the discord you create among his court with your callous, self-indulgent
behavior. Could you not even leave the livestock alone?” the mage
muttered with disgust.

“That wasn’t me,” Erik protested as he tried to extract himself
from the tangle of limbs pinning him down. A small corner of his brain
wondered again who the bed belonged to, how long he’d been in it, and if his
host’s largess would hold out until he had a bite of bread and cheese, maybe
another mug of wine.

“Not in body, perhaps, but the act was done with your encouragement.
You sow depravity into the souls of the good people of this land, leaving a
trail of broken marriages and broken hearts behind. The king will have no
more of this debauchery!”

“I hardly think all the consequences of the court’s questionable
behavior can be blamed on me.” Erik looked around for his clothes, a
little intimidated to be talking to the king’s mage without a stitch on.
However, every garment he found smelled rank with spent passion. He flipped
the bed curtain over his lap instead. “I enjoy a good party. What soul
doesn’t? That’s human nature, not a crime.”

“The evidence is quite plain, and the king has rendered his judgment.
He left it to me to determine your punishment. After a fortnight of
observation, I see the only way to change your ways is to give you exactly
what you desire.”

Warning bells clamored in his head, but Erik couldn’t puzzle out exactly
what about that statement troubled him. “Would the king be satisfied if
I left the city for a few weeks?” Surely he could convince one of the
rich lords in the outlying districts to keep him sheltered and fed for a
month.

“Your departure might satisfy him, but it will not satisfy me. From
this day forth, you will breathe art, dine on creative passion, and survive
as long as your depraved, artistic soul can sustain you.” The mage’s
robes rippled as if an angry fall wind had whirled around him. “As I
will it, so mote it be,” the mage intoned with an earth-shaking
power.

And, just like that, Erik’s life transformed.

 

About the Author

Kira Stone has been around the block…the writer’s block, that
is.

From vamps and witches to historical heroes, from futuristic scientists to
paranormal corporate executives, from Canadian werewolves to off-world
shifters, Kira has written about them all. Manlove has sparked hot and heavy
in many of her plots, but Kira also finds a lucky lady to keep the sexy
heroes company from time to time. While Scotland remains her favorite place
in the world, Kira is constantly in search of new adventures to add to the
creative primordial ooze where her best stories are born.

Author Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Goodreads

Author’s Website

 

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

 

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by | April 16, 2025 · 5:00 am

Earth’s Passion Blitz

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Earth's Passion cover

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Steamy

Date Published: April 18, 2025

 

 

As their need for each other grows, so does the danger.

Kailee and Tom are falling for each other, but their secrets continue to
come between them. Kailee’s afraid to show her physical scars, while
Tom dreads his lover will discover the power those he still calls Master and
Mistress hold over him.

Dragon and werewolf must join together in every way to defeat those who
would dominate Tom and kill Kailee.

Earth's Passion paperback

 

 

EXCERPT

 

Kailee had been lying next to Tom for close to twenty minutes. Her new
dragon lover was fast asleep, and she knew she should be resting too.
Instead, she was filled with joy and an incautious sense of promise that she
hadn’t felt in years.

Tom rolled over, draping his arm over her waist. Kailee wriggled a little
as the urge to pee made itself known. A deeper craving drew at her
also.

“Are you okay?” Tom mumbled. Then he stiffened.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He pulled his
arm off her.

She turned over, snuggling in close. “I like it when you touch me. I
just… I need to get up and use the bathroom.” It was true, but
her ulterior motive was to take so long that he fell back to sleep, and she
could go outside.

“I’ll wait up for you,” he said, slurring his words a
little.

Kailee kissed his temple. “Go to sleep. I’ll be back in a
moment.”

His eyes were already closed. As she watched, he lost the tension in his
limbs and the worry lines on his face smoothed out. He began to snore.

She waited another five minutes, to make sure he was well and truly under.
He’d had a sucky, hard life and she thought he hadn’t probably
slept well for large parts of it. Knowing he was safe here, that she would
protect him, made her smile.

She got up, padding to the bathroom after putting on the clothes
she’d worn before they made love. Once in the bathroom, she unzipped
her jeans. As much as she felt one hundred percent female most of the time,
she still enjoyed the simple pleasure of peeing while standing up.

When she was finished, she flushed, zipped up, and washed her hands. Then,
moving silently, not wanting to wake anyone up because this pack already
knew everyone else’s business as it was, she went to the mudroom, put
on her boots, and made her way out of the back door into the gloriously dark
night. It was a waxing crescent moon tonight, about four days from the first
quarter, and with so little light coming from that celestial orb, the
darkness was close as a passionate lover, full of kindness. Like Tom.

She wrapped her arms around her chest, which was flat without the boobs she
usually wore. That felt a little awkward but for this one moment, she was
able to dismiss the feeling. She’d needed to embrace herself for pure
joy’s sake. She’d been so very alone for damn near half her
life, relying on gentleness and understanding from those who were either
hired professionals or simply much older than she was and thus not quite as
in touch with their wolflinghood as she could have wished. Maybe it was
foolish to assume someone closer to her own age would have “gotten
it,” her experiences and suffering. Still, because Tom understood, and
only after so short a time, she thought the idea had slight merit.

Wanting to make some sort of noise to express herself, she began to sing.
It was a simple song in Werewelsh, her first language. She’d grown up
surrounded by the language developed by werewolves for their own kind, and
although other people spoke it now, it remained mostly shared among the ones
who had to change at the full moon. Werewolves largely did, though, and she
was, first and foremost, a wolf.

She translated in her head as she sang, loving the poetry even though it
didn’t rhyme in English.

Moon of darkness, moon of light,

Moon of power and strength.

Moon of my heart, full and wise,

Be with me tonight.

Probably, she thought as her joy crested but didn’t recede, I’m
being foolish. He hasn’t even said he loves me.

That was true but what made her heart sing was a simple truth, not
complicated by whether Tom wanted to be her mate or not. “In all
honesty,” she whispered to the night that seemed to be listening,
“I never thought anyone could see past my scars and love me
anyway.”

All right, so he hadn’t actually seen her physical scars, her dead
name carved into her chest with a silver knife and made to stay because of
silver powder. She hadn’t been quite that brave. Still, Tom knew she
had a reputation, that she’d killed, and he hadn’t pulled away.
Wasn’t that worthy of ecstasy?

She closed her eyes and resumed her singing. Now she sang a song of how the
sky so loved the moon that he bid her to cross from one edge to the other so
he might admire her beauty. The moon’s response Kailee sang too,
reveling in the way the moon demanded something in return: to see the stars
scattered before her like diamonds.

Once again, her joy crested until it filled her chest. She broke out in a
light sweat. That was when she became aware that the exhilaration she felt
wasn’t hers alone.

Wary because she’d been influenced by outsider forces before,
although less directly or psychically, she mounted her defenses and scanned
the area with her telepathy, seeking the source of the external, pushy
force.

At first, she felt nothing and no one. Widening her circle of ability, she
fumbled in the darkness of the in-between that existed in the psychic world.
Reaching, reaching, she felt a half-familiar mind.

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a
host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,”
Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a
passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central
or on her website.

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

 

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