Tag Archives: MPreg

Spiritori Teaser

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Paranormal Romance, MPreg

Date Published: March 13, 2026

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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.

 Spiritori paperback

 

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.

 

 

 

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

 

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

 

 

 

 

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Burn Teaser Tuesday

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Gay Dark Fantasy, MPreg, Vampire Romance

Date Published: July 11, 2025

 

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

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

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

 

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EXCERPT

 

Cameron

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna join?”

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

“You clock out?”

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

“Ah.”

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

“No problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods, I was nuts.

 

About the Author

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

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

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

 

Author on Facebook

 

 

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

 

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To Save His Prince – Blitz

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 photo To save his prince ebook.jpeg_zpsiwymedyn.jpg

M/M Romance / MPreg
Date Published: September 21, 2018
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Emory is a humble kitchen servant intent on working hard so he can continue to earn his daily crust of bread. It is a thankless, back-breaking job, but it is exactly where Emory wants to be. In the magnificent West Quay castle. Because that is where the incredibly handsome, extremely talented Crown Prince Riffyn lives. The beautiful, kind, and attentive man stole Emory’s heart years before when he rescued him and his mother from a band of thieves. Now Emory’s only wish is to be close, so he can simply admire and serve the man.
 
But a great evil walks the halls of the castle, and Emory stumbles on a heinous plot to not only kill the prince but a possible plan to overthrow the Kingdom. A wicked scheme that includes the use of magic. Of course, being a lowly servant, no one believes Emory when he tries to raise the alarm, including the prince, who has been commanded to choose a bride now, or one will be chosen for him. Even as Emory’s heart breaks for his prince, he has to find a way to save him. But how, when no one, not even the king, the prince’s own father, can be trusted?
About the Author

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Hurri Cosmo lives in Minnesota where she holds tight to the idea that there, where it’s cold a good part of the year, she won’t age as fast. Yep, she avoids the truth as much as she avoids mirrors. But one of the reasons she loves writing is reality doesn’t always offer up a “happily ever after” and being able to take control of that is a powerful lure. Being a happy ending junkie, writing just makes them easier to find. Oh, she doesn’t mind “real life” and she does try to at least keep it in mind when she writes her stories, but she truly loves creating a wonderful couple, knowing they will fall in love and have their HEA. Every – single – time. And, of course, that is exactly the reason she loves reading this genre, too. Give her a glass of red wine, some dark chocolate, and her computer, whether she is reading or writing, and she will entertain herself for hours. The fact she actually gets paid to do it is Snickers bars on the frosting on the cake.
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