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Precog’s Perception Teaser

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Precog's Perception cover

 

(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.

Author’s Website

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