Book Spotlight Tour Stop: Cupids' Flight by Mell Eight

Title:  Cupids' Flight

Series: Wings, Book Two

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 09/22/2026

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 18800

Genre: Paranormal, MM Romance, Halloween, Samhain, anthropomorphic, interspecies, magic/magic-users, Japanese mythology and folklore

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Description

Betrayed by love in the worst possible way, Leo spends his days alone. He works alone, lives alone, and that's the way he prefers it until he rescues a strange creature named Hei from the goblins, and Hei refuses to let Leo be. During Samhain, a time of transition, falling into Hei's embrace is all too easy. However, Hei's wish to stay with the cupids requires they embark on a quest to fulfill love, a quest that might prove unsolvable as Hei's past comes calling with a vengeance.

Excerpt

Cupids’ Flight

Mell Eight © 2026

All Rights Reserved

The quarter moon overhead glowed, but the streetlights glowed brighter. In fact, every house in the suburban neighborhood Leo was walking through was bright and welcoming with pole and porch lights, and every other outside light on and illuminating the yards and driveways. Fake cobwebs, blow-up spiders, and plastic graveyards dotted lawns everywhere Leo looked, and throngs of kids walked the sidewalks in elaborate costumes. Leo estimated only some of the costumed people were actually still children. That said, no matter their age, everyone seemed equally happy to hold out open bags already full of candy to get more sweets at every door.

Halloween. Leo honestly didn’t mind this particular human holiday. Normally when he traveled to Earth from his home in the clouds with the rest of the cupids, he was forced to conceal his wings. He hated feeling so restricted, as if someone had tied a band around his chest and squeezed. To do his job properly the wings had to be hidden, so he endured the discomfort. The one exception was on Halloween.

“Dude! Your animatronics are sick!”

One of the boys, whom Leo really thought ought to have grown out of costumes and candy, jogged over with his group of friends following. He wore a green mask representing some sort of Earth superhero, jeans, and a black shirt. His friends also only wore the bare minimum of a mask as their nod to the holiday, but they all wore something different so at least there was some effort.

“Do they move?” green mask asked.

“They do,” Leo replied. He stuck a hand in his jeans pocket, trying to act like he thought the movement was covert, which ensured they all saw him and thought he was palming a remote, before straightening out his wings. He flapped slowly twice before folding them along his back again.

“I have got to get me one of those!” another member of the superhero group said, sounding awed.

“They’re expensive,” Leo warned, although he honestly had no idea what animatronics actually cost.

“A worthy goal!” green mask declared.

Before anyone could say anything else, another superhero ran up to the group.

“You’ve got to hurry!” he said. “The Artogos are giving out full-sized candy bars, but I think they’re starting to run out!”

With a parting wave, the group ran off, heading to yet another brightly lit house. Leo continued on his way, dodging sugar-hyped, overstimulated kids and their suffering adult chaperones until he reached the only house on the block that was completely dark. Only a dim light through a crack in a window shade indicated anyone was home. Leo headed up the driveway, then ducked around the side of the house where he found a nine-foot privacy fence separating the front yard from the back. None of the bright light from the neighboring houses reached the fence. Hidden within those shadows, Leo jumped and flapped his wings just enough to get him over the fence and into the backyard.

The shades had not been pulled closed over the French doors separating the back deck from the dining room inside, letting light spill out into the overgrown yard. In the kitchen, a woman leaned heavily against the counter, a mixing bowl full of something in front of her, although she wasn’t stirring. She looked thin and wan, bone-tired, and generally not well.

To the left of the dining room, Leo found a living room. The TV flickered on commercials, shedding their glow over an easy chair where a man lay, snoring. The table in front of him was full of empty, half-crushed beer cans.

Leo’s mission tonight was simple: help the woman find the courage to leave her drunken fool of a husband.

His power as a cupid was the best way to help her. Two types of cupids lived up in the clouds that Leo called home. Love cupids helped couples find each other, and encouraged people to take the next step in building a beautiful relationship together. Leo couldn’t stand them. The only thought filling love cupids’ heads was how to make people happy, but they never bothered to dig deeper to see where true happiness lay. Actually… Leo shook his head. That thought was wrong. He had recently met love cupids who weren’t that foppish. His nephew, Sable, was married to one, and since Sable seemed happy, Leo tried hard not to judge all love cupids the same. He found it extremely difficult though. After nearly three thousand years of fixing love cupids’ mistakes—where they thought they had brought about true love and instead caused pain—finding a handful of love cupids who were actually capable wasn’t nearly enough to fully change his mind.

For Sable’s sake, Leo was trying, but he definitely wasn’t finding it easy.

Leo was the opposite of a love cupid; he was a loss cupid. Where love cupids brought people together, loss cupids like Leo helped to separate them. When a relationship needed to end, a loss cupid was able to help convince people it was time to move on. In a perfect world, Leo would then deliver the newly separated couple to a love cupid to help them find a new love. That was why Sable and his husband Wynn worked so well together. Love and loss cupids were working together more often these days, but Leo worked alone for a reason. Most of the cases assigned to him just weren’t suitable for a love cupid.

The couple he was looking at separating right now was a perfect example of when the influence of a love cupid would only cause harm. Most of the woman’s bruises were emotional, but abuse was abuse. Words were far more painful than fists, but far less visible. What she needed was the courage to free herself and then take the time to heal. A damned love cupid wouldn’t give her that time, instead attempting to match her with her true love before her heart was repaired enough to be ready to try again.

His simple recurve bow appeared in his hand, and an arrow appeared in his other hand. Leo nocked the arrow and lined up his shot, waiting a moment to be certain the woman wasn’t going to suddenly move, then let the arrow fly.

The glass doors were no impediment to his arrow, which slid through as if they weren’t even there. The arrow landed with a solid thud in the left side of her chest, right in her heart. She didn’t move, as if she didn’t notice, or care enough to notice. The arrow shimmered for a moment and then faded away, leaving behind a completely unblemished shirt and no sign of blood.

The woman suddenly shook her head and pressed one hand to her forehead, but then her jaw firmed and she stood up straight. She briefly glanced over at her snoring husband, and a sneer tilted her lips as she strode away from the kitchen, vanishing from Leo’s view. When she returned a few minutes later, she carried a large suitcase. She vanished from view again, and a moment later a light came on in an upstairs window.

She would pack what she could carry and likely go to stay with her sister. Within a week, divorce papers would be served. Leo’s work here was clearly done.

He hopped the fence again and melded back into the crowd. Fewer very small children were out and about now, and more of the older ones who should have grown out of the holiday had appeared. Leo wended his way through them, trying to return to the secluded park at the end of the street where he could call on a portal to take him back up to the clouds. He would report his success and then head to his house. The first Samhain celebrations back home had no doubt already begun. Sable had invited Leo to the party his husband Wynn was throwing, but Leo had politely declined. After tonight’s mission, what he really needed was some time to relax in the peace and quiet of his own home. Maybe tomorrow he could stop by the main square in town to see the decorations, although going alone to see the intricately carved pumpkins and turnips lining the square had lost its shine a long time ago. The last time Leo had any fun at a solstice event was when Sable was still a child and Leo could bring him along. These days, Leo found it better to just stay home.

“Purple, it’s been a long time,” a voice said from Leo’s left.

Leo looked over, but he already knew who he would see. Only one bastard called him “Purple” after the color of his wings.

“Giblets. It’s been five hundred years, I believe?”

Leo tried not to remember what event had occurred five hundred years ago that had resulted in him being somewhat friendly with a goblin, but when your ex-lover had tried to destroy cupid society and killed your brother in the process, it was hard to forget. Leo had thought his ex was a gentle soul, but Elder Ortho was only using Leo to further his plans to become king of the cupids. Never mind that cupids didn’t have kings and lived in a fairly socialist society, Ortho believed he could unravel their societal structure and place himself on top. Giblets was one of the goblins who had helped the cupid elders bring Ortho’s reign of terror to an end.

“I hope you’re not out shopping for dinner right now,” Leo continued. “Even though it’s Halloween, I suspect the people running around will be missed.”

Giblets snorted. “You know we only eat the flesh of evil souls, and kids might be evil-hearted at times, but not properly evil enough to make a good meal. Only one truly evil person lives around here,” he added, throwing a thumb in the direction of the only dark house. “But now that you’ve been by, we’re happy to let the meat stew a little longer while he gets some comeuppance. He’ll be very tender soon.” His grin showed off all his pointed teeth, flashing bright in the streetlights. “No, I’m here for another reason, Purple. We raided an underground nest of nasty demon worshipers last night for some good eating and found something. Or someone. We’re not really sure what he is, just that he’s got wings. Since you’ve got wings too, maybe you can talk to him and figure out how to get him home again?”

“Lead the way,” Leo replied, his answer immediate.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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Discover Mychael Black's Gravedancer today

   

Title: Gravedancer

Author: Mychael Black

Cover Art: Angela Knight

Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Mystery /Suspense /Intrigue, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: Dark Romance, LGBTQ+ Gay, LGBTQ+ Sex & Gender Shifters, MPreg, Vampires

Series: Broken Houses (#1)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 81

Description

For Malik and Dorian, the death of one of House Severn’s leaders just turned personal.

House Severn is in turmoil with the mysterious death of its leader’s omega mate. No one knows how he died, and it falls on Malik Devries, the House’s resident Spiritori priest, to find answers. His search leads him to someone he never expected to find -- Dorian Morrow, his fated mate.

Dorian was only fifteen when his family fled House Severn. He always thought his dads wanted to get away and live life free of any House ties. He’d been wrong -- so very, very wrong. What he isn’t wrong about, however, is the almost magnetic pull he feels to House Severn’s Spiritori, Malik Devries.

Excerpt

Gravedancer (Broken Houses 1)

Mychael Black

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2026 Mychael Black

Wails echoed down the hall, anguished and utterly heartbreaking.

I leaned against the wall halfway down and closed my eyes. This whole nightmare had come out of nowhere, and no one had answers. Not even me.

A few days ago, Cesar, our leader’s mate, had been healthy, laughing and smiling with the rest of us. Then everything changed almost overnight. Darrien had rushed to my chambers and begged me to come with him, which I had. Cesar had been so pale, I’d feared he was already gone. He hung onto life for another couple of days before succumbing to whatever ailed him.

As I listened to one of my best friends mourn his partner’s death, I couldn’t help but curse the gods themselves. Darrien and Cesar ruled House Severn with kindness, and to hear such gut-wrenching sorrow was surreal in this place.

A door farther down opened, and I looked toward it. Darrien’s advisor, Christian Morelock, stepped into the hall. He headed my way, his expression as torn as I figured mine to be. He sighed and leaned against the wall opposite me, hands shoved into his pockets. He closed his eyes, and neither of us said a word for a moment while we listened to Darrien’s cries.

“Send any petitioners or issues to me for the time being.”

“Understood.”

“Don’t suppose you have any clue what happened, do you?”

I wished I could’ve said I had all the answers, but I had none. “No. Doc is just as stumped. Once Cesar is delivered to the chapel, I’ll see what I can divine.”

Christian studied me for a few seconds before replying. “You think it’s magic, don’t you?”

“I do,” I admitted. “Beyond the fact that we are less susceptible to illness than humans, my gut tells me this isn’t something so easily explained away.”

He nodded. “My question is: who is behind it? Who the fuck would target Cesar? That man never harmed a fly.”

That was the crux of this situation. Darrien and Cesar honestly had no true enemies. It just didn’t make a damn bit of sense.

“Anyway,” Christian said, dragging my attention back to him, “I need to go downstairs and call a meeting. Darrien will be out of commission for a while.”

This was one reason why I avoided relationships. Beyond being a Spiritori and dealing with the issues it came with, the thought of finding love, only to possibly lose it, was more than I really wanted to face.

Christian pushed off from the wall and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll make sure Cesar’s body gets to you as soon as possible.”

“Don’t rush anything,” I said. “Give Darrien time. I’ll be here.”

Nodding, Christian continued down the hall toward the bank of elevators. He stepped into one, and the doors slid shut, leaving me alone in the hallway again.

Darrien had quieted, but I could feel the soul-deep heartbreak with uneasy clarity. This was personal. We had been friends for centuries. Cesar’s death hit us all with devastating precision.

Like it had been planned.

That thought took root in my mind, and I couldn’t shake it. I hurried to the elevators and headed down. My apartment was on the same floor as Christian’s, but I worked in the basement. I enjoyed the solitude and quiet more than the usual bustle of the rest of the complex.

As soon as the doors opened, I stepped out, only to find Seth Gates, the head of security and the fifth member of our close-knit friendship circle, waiting for me. I nodded in greeting and unlocked the door, gesturing for him to join me. The moment we were alone, I turned to him.

“You’re thinking the same damn thing.”

“I am,” Seth said. “For several reasons.”

“Talk to me,” I replied as we walked through the entryway and toward my workspace. I pressed my hand to the sensor on the wall, and the door’s lock clicked. Confident Seth followed, I headed to my lab, turning on lights as I went. Once we were alone again, Seth sat on one of the nearby stools while I booted up my computer.

“I don’t think Cesar was the actual target.”

One eyebrow raised, I glanced over at him. “Okay…”

Seth shrugged. “I think we all were.”

I sat down and signed into the network. “Explain?”

“He was the only omega in Darrien’s inner circle. At least the only one anyone knew about,” he added. “He’d be the ideal target for magic, too, since he was a laicas.”

“True.” I turned to him. “Do you recall a trouble-making asshole named Jules Morrow?”

Seth scowled. “Bastard was a fucking pain in my ass. Why?”

“He and his laicas mate, Roman, struck out on their own about seven years ago. Before they left, Jules had been in touch with someone outside House Severn, asking about delayed magic.”

“How the hell did you find that out, and what the fuck is ‘delayed’ magic?”

“Let’s just say I do have contacts throughout the area,” I replied. “I can’t elaborate for their safety.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “You know you can trust me, but I get it. Now what’s ‘delayed’ magic? I thought spells hit when cast.”

“Most do, but those that are labeled as ‘delayed’ act much differently. They attach themselves to their targets and only activate when a certain event occurs or when a certain amount of time has passed. Essentially, a Magien can cast a spell on someone to activate, say, when that person hits a particular age or what have you. Follow me?”

“Sort of,” Seth muttered, though his expression said otherwise. He was a Venari, and, like laicas vamps, they tended to steer very clear of magic in general.

“Anyway, and this is a very loose hypothesis, what if Jules Morrow did something along those lines to Cesar? If your idea of all of us being the actual targets is true, then it would definitely be plausible.”

“I recall Jules being a rather jealous, vindictive shit,” Seth said. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Jealous being the keyword here,” I pointed out. “Cesar was an omega in a strong position of power. Jules was an omega with nothing but a cheating, worthless alpha.”

Seth sighed and raked a hand through his short, spiky black hair. “So what do we do?”

“I need to see if I can track down one of them.”

“That’s like searching for a needle in a haystack, Malik. How --”

“They have a son.”

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet 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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Discover Salva Me by Autumn Montague Today!

Title: Salva Me

Author: Autumn Montague

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, Mystery /Suspense /Intrigue, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance

Themes: Capture Fantasy, Dark Romance, Historical (Dark Ages, Regency, Victorian/Gaslamp & Edwardian), LGBTQ+ Gay, Vampires

Series: Blood Sworn (#1)

Book Length: Novel

Page Count: 196

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Synopsis

England, 1816. A nosferatu, a rogue vampire, hunts unchecked through Sussex. Jeremy Takeshi Colbourne is honor-bound by ancestral duty to find and destroy such madmen. Foremost among the vampires of England, he must find a way to ensure the safety of the English citizens and the vampires that live among them.

Then Jeremy and his blood-host Morgan Holland discover a brutally savaged girl. With this latest victim of the nosferatu, Jeremy realizes the time has come to make Morgan aware of the Colbourne responsibilities. But the situation could not have come at a worse time.

For years, Morgan has served as Jeremy's blood-host. Though Morgan adheres faithfully to his Contracted terms, he refuses to surrender to the sexual seduction that completes each feeding. He yields neither his body nor his heart, though Jeremy yearns for both.

As the nosferatu's atrocities grow, Jeremy must ask everything of Morgan to gain the strength needed to fight the ravening monster. Will Morgan relent and give up body and heart to help Jeremy defeat their enemy, or will the battle destroy them both?

Excerpt

Salva Me (Blood Sworn 1)

Autumn Montague

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2026 Autumn Montague

Jeremy cursed at the knock on the oaken door of his study. Morgan had attempted to corner him several times today. Pure cowardice had driven Jeremy to take refuge here, a place his loyal Host rarely intruded on, since it held the Buddhist shrine housing his mother’s mortuary tablet. He glanced at the portrait standing behind the black stone, wishing for a bit of Keiko Yamakawa’s legendary strength.

Evading Morgan had taken a toll on Jeremy. The Contracted day for his feeding had come and gone. Today marked two full weeks since Morgan had wrenched himself from Jeremy’s grasp, nearly bleeding to death before Jeremy could administer the requisite clotting agent. The sight of Morgan’s injuries had seared itself into Jeremy’s mind, rendering him unwilling to risk another such incident.

It almost made him wish to return to Japan, despite the difficulties involved. Obtaining the necessary dispensation from the Tokugawa Shogunate had been hard enough when he left. Lord Matsumae had done what he could, but it had taken his mother’s personal attendance on Emperor Kōkaku and an appropriate gift to Tokugawa Ikeharu to get it done. Going back would be far worse, despite his home’s exemption from the Sakoku Edict. Even so, he was tempted. If only to avoid what he now faced.

The knock came again, harder than before, followed immediately by the entrance of Morgan Holland. “Excuse me, Lord Colbourne. While I am always loath to disturb you in your sanctum, you cannot avoid me forever.” Exasperation filled Morgan’s voice, underscored by heavy concern.

Jeremy risked a glance at his Host, unwilling to see but drawn nonetheless. The wounds on Morgan’s neck had healed; his skin flushed a healthy hue. Unlike usual feedings, the last one had left two ragged scars, visible reminders of Jeremy’s lack of control. Even now, the remnants of Morgan’s refusal echoed in his mind, invading his dreams.

“I am not convinced you are well enough to support a feeding, Holland,” he hedged, though his Host showed no lingering signs of ill effects. “Your wounds have barely healed.”

Morgan sighed. “I understand your reluctance after the debacle last time, but you cannot risk your health or your sanity by some idiotic attempt at endurance. I am prepared to meet my Contracted terms without qualms.”

“So you say. Nonetheless, your refusal made quite an impression. I’d prefer not to endure that again so soon.”

Morgan’s cheeks heated with angry embarrassment. “Then break Contract, my lord, and find someone more willing to accommodate all of your needs. Or go back to Japan.”

The slap of the words felt like a further refusal. Jeremy straightened in his chair, denying the spike of pain, determined to retain his rationality. Fear was anathema to the Barons of Colbourne and to the Yamakawa family. Being afraid to feed on his Contracted Host shamed both houses. He stood, feeling the weakness of flesh from self-deprivation.

“After twelve years? I’d rather not, thank you. You’re all I need. Or want.” Jeremy considered the irony of his irrational thoughts mere moments before. “It is far harder to return than to leave,” he added. “While my home in Matsumae is exempt from the Sakoku Edict, only my status as a noble Chi no Kami allowed me to leave in the first place. I have no wish to reverse the process any time soon.”

Morgan considered for a moment and then gave him the ghost of a smile. “Then please stop delaying the inevitable. Despite what happened before, I refuse to watch you kill yourself, however noble your ancestors may have found the practice. It would render all my efforts worthless.”

“Such things are not reserved for my ancestors,” Jeremy growled. “If I chose seppuku, who would be my second? You’d still have to watch me die.”

“At least it would not be this slow death you’re attempting now.”

Trust Morgan to know him well enough to hit so close to the truth of the matter. Jeremy allowed silence to reign for a moment and then gave a grudging chuckle. “No quarter, I see. You win, Holland. Give me two hours, and I’ll meet you in the sanguis cubiculum.”

Two hours would give Jeremy sufficient time to contact William Carter. After this long, the sexual urges would be difficult to suppress, but he could not afford another mistake like the last time.

Morgan nodded to him. “Two hours, then, Lord Colbourne. I will be ready.”

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Autumn grew up loving history, mythology, and all things Japanese, not necessarily in that order. This eclectic love affair has bled over into her writing, and her stories are always well spiced with the taste of Japan, strange mythological beasties, or the lords and ladies of the ton. Sometimes all three, leading to dark desires and forbidden loves. And after all, dangerous passions should lead to uninhibited love.

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Book Tour Stop: The Netherworld Witch by Lisa Acerbo

Title: The Netherworld Witch

Author: Lisa Acerbo

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/25/2026

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 79600

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, fantasy, young adult, bisexual, interracial, high school, fantasy world, elves, witch

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Description

Mina Rubenstein has a secret. She doesn’t just sketch elves; her drawings transport her into the kingdom of Auralon. Once there, the princely Callon informs her the king has vanished, dark forces are rising, and Mina is the Netherworld Witch. According to the prophecy, only she can shape the ethereal darkness into anything imagined, find the missing monarch, and save the realm. Mina never asked for magic, let alone a destiny, but refusing Callon’s plea to save his father could doom Auralon.

The only thing worse than her possible death at the hands of mythical monsters is junior year at St. Benedict’s Catholic School. When bullies target her, Mina’s best friend Ayden becomes her sanctuary and first love. But as the torment escalates, Ayden reaches a breaking point. Desperate and angry, she buys a weapon and begins talking about revenge.

Trapped between two worlds, Mina searches for peace in both. One world is filled with family, Ayden, and school. The other full of wild magic and Callon. As Mina’s existence at St. Benedict’s descends into pandemonium, she wonders whether her quest in Auralon is fate or a way to avoid the pain of reality.

Excerpt

The Netherworld Witch
Lisa Acerbo © 2026
All Rights Reserved

Prologue

Snow fell. Mina contemplated how she wanted to show this in her drawing. Snow changed the world. Everything quieted, boundaries blurred, soft edges seeped. A white hush cloaked streets, trees, entire towns. Familiar places were reinvented.

Snow was symbolic. A fresh start, a clean surface, a new beginning, but Mina’s snow, once pristine, ephemeral, and gossamer, was laced with blood. Black dots on the white sheet of paper made flakes heavy and unyielding. She continued to sketch. The flurries fell into Callon’s eyes, drenched his cloak, and hindered his success. The bands of white muffled the anguished cries and the death falls. It made horror beautiful from far away, but up close, evil was anything but pretty.

Mina pressed her charcoal pencil hard against the pristine paper. The elf’s now familiar features appeared intense, smeared with dirt and rage. Pain illuminated his eyes with each new line she rendered. “This is not what I want to draw.”

Chaos ensued. Warriors and mythical monsters clashed as snow and sleet slashed sideways. The princely elf battled goblins. Not one, not three, but four short, stocky, incredibly ugly creatures. Their faces were leathery; hair bulged from large bat ears and curled over most every other part of their bodies. Damp, sweat-soaked strands protruded through chinks in their misshapen armor. Sleet matted tangles down in abstraction over squat, muscular arms. Small and fast, furious, and deadly, the monsters surrounded the prince.

Mina wanted to stop sketching as much as she wished her heart would cease violently rattling in her chest. It was a drawing for God’s sake, but her pencil felt like a prediction and the outcome dire. She couldn’t see Callon hurt.

His gorget and leather armor were splattered with muck and mud, dripping and heavy. His hefty sword sliced through the first goblin’s skin as easily as it carved the white falling flakes. He staggered when another monster’s sword pierced his leg. She etched a gash down his thigh. Callon’s shoulders rounded with fatigue, yet Mina drew on. She couldn’t stop sketching, as much as she tried to pull herself away.

Ice amassed under the prince’s feet, sending him skittering. Blood and mud sprayed the ground burgundy. The warrior struck out, slashing in a circle to keep the remaining goblins at bay. He thrust his sword at one, giving another the chance to use his weapon as a spear. Callon parried and drove his sword into the gremlin’s chest. The monster squealed and fell.

The other two were upon him.

Callon’s blade pierced the winter storm of white. He was not the soldier his sister was, but a calm descended. He’d trained for this equally as hard as she had, and while she excelled at horsemanship, he did so in ground combat. He preferred to face his opponent and stare into their eyes, seeing the evil and feeling as if his sword carried out justice rather than violence. He locked eyes with one of the remaining two goblins, already envisioning its demise.

One monster, more reckless than the other, growled, spit, and swore in a language as rough and rude as itself. The stench of death from the slain devils warred with the odor wafting off the living ones. It brought tears to Callon’s eyes even as he attempted to breathe through his mouth. He assumed the goblin across from him was male, but it was nearly impossible to tell. The foul creature jerked forward, swinging a curved sword with ease, aiming at Callon’s midsection, ever so happy to gut him.

“I’ll see you join the others in eternal sleep.” He screamed above the battle roar that surrounded him and kicked away the fallen dead by his feet.

The two remaining demons moved into fighting range. He wielded his sword with muscle memory from all the long, intense training days with his sister, who had pushed him beyond exhaustion to hone his skills. Callon thanked Elarona for that practice now as he cleaved down and across, hitting the portly monster’s arm and severing it. The creature howled in pain and sank to its knees. The prince kicked out, his boot meeting the beast’s face. It fell over and he stabbed, ending its miserable existence.

The other goblin jumped on Callon’s back, ready to plunge a dagger into his neck. The elf grabbed the monster’s arm, blade slicing his cheek. He wrenched the weapon away and fell backward. He hit the packed snow hard, the impact jarring, and squashed the monster to the ground. The prince’s sword flew from his fingers. He twisted off the creature and scurried away.

The goblin crawled on arms and knees after him, yellow teeth chomping, moving faster than Callon could have ever imagined. Its claws grabbed at his pant leg and pulled him close. The elf pawed the slick and slimy ground littered with remnants of both elven and goblin warriors. His hand closed over a rock and when in range, the goblin’s teeth ready to sink into his leg, Callon smashed the stone against its head. The force of impact reverberated through him. He repeated the motion. The rock slammed into the monster’s skull, the squelch and shatter loud, the squeal of the beast deafening, until it fell limp.

Callon pushed away, stood, and scanned the battleground. It was no longer white even though snow continued to fall. Elarona cheered. The other elven warriors joined in the joyous war cry before turning to help the injured or collect bodies of the fallen for burial. The prince limped closer, anything but delighted. The battle was far from over.

Mina put a hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes, and stopped. She crumpled the drawing into a ball and hid it and the paper and pencil under her mattress. No one could know about it.

She stood, opened the door, exited her room, and waved to the orderly standing guard by the locked doors. She walked down the sterile hallway and into the waiting office.

Mina’s tongue stuck to the inside of her chapped lips, as dry as midsummer sand well above the tideline on a beach. The young and overeager doctor sat behind an organized desk where she attempted to interact, but Mina found the bookshelves overladen with psychology texts, including The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, more interesting.

“I have no idea what to talk about.” Mina slouched lower in her chair and battled through her first individual session. She was grateful her parents cared enough to find a place where she’d receive help but mortified that everyone at her high school probably couldn’t stop gossiping about her downfall.

“Tell me why you’re here.” The doctor in the shiny white lab coat had an equally pearly grin. She pushed a tissue box her way.

“It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.” Mina pushed her tortoiseshell glasses up her nose. “I guess it all got to be too much.”

“Your parents said you were brave coming to them. They’re proud of you.”

“I wish I had talked to them earlier. The bullying was bad, the breakup hard, and it was all stressful, but the other stuff spiraled.”

“What do you mean?”

“The imaginary world with the elves.” Mina focused on the plant at the edge of the desk. “It all seemed real.”

“That’s a good place to start. Let’s explore what happened. There’s no judgment in this room. You can relax.”

She wanted that too, but her knees shook, and her leg refused to stop jumping up and down.

“How’s the journaling going?” the doctor asked.

“Fine.” Her gaze skipped around the room trying to find a focus, but all she saw were possible future sketches. Her pointer finger painted along her jeans, creating circles, ovals, and swirls.

“Tell me a little more. I asked you to put aside drawing and focus on writing down your thoughts and ideas to avoid confusing the real with the imaginary. Has it helped? Any misperceptions?”

“I let my imagination run wild in the past. I get it.”

“It’s much more complicated than that. It’s what we are going to try and figure out here.”

She understood everything the doctor was saying but missed Auralon so much and wanted to continue to sketch Callon, the pixies, Buddy, and the other world she longed to return to.

Her life here was a huge, hot, steaming pile of horse dung, and Mina had no idea what she was going to do about it.

*****

Session over, she walked back to her room, hand skimming the wall. It pulsed in response. A portion in front of her blurred and faded. A figure stood behind it.

The shadow held out its hand but then disappeared.

The wall solidified in front of her.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Lisa Acerbo is the Director of General Education and Liberal Arts at Post University. Her short stories and poetry appear in Scarlet, Sagebrush Review, Moonstone Arts, Poor Yorick Literary Journal, Ripples in Space, Universe in a Bottle by Flying Ketchup Press, Whatever Happened to Hansel and Gretel? by Fathom Publishing (a finalist in the 2024 Best Books Awards in the category of Fiction: Anthology), and Birds of Vermont Museum. When not writing, you can find her walking in the woods with her rescue dogs.

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Book Tour Stop: Horsefall by Jade Buchanan

Title: Horsefall

Author: Jade Buchanan

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, Duets & Box Sets, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: Elves /Dragons /Magical Creatures, LGBTQ+ Gay, Multiple Partners, Second Edition, Shapeshifters, Voyeurism & Exhibitionism

Series: Horsfall (#4)

Book Length: Box Set

Page Count: 186

Synopsis

What started out as a regular job assignment quickly escalated into something more for Oliver Philip when he meets twin Shire horse shapeshifters Bayard and Marshall Stoddard.

Hired to perform a safety audit on Horsfall Ranch, Oliver never expected his life to be turned upside down, but he’s game for anything. Happily throwing himself into a relationship with both Bayard and Marshall, Oliver quickly discovers a world of intense pleasure, laughter and comfort.

Unfortunately, storm clouds are gathering on the horizon and Oliver must find the strength to fight for the two men he can’t live without.

Excerpt

Horsfall

Second Edition

Jade Buchanan

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2026 Jade Buchanan

Excerpt from Tail of Two Brothers

Oliver Philip inhaled deeply, turning his head from side to side to capture as much of the scenery as he could. He couldn't imagine living out here. It was so crisp, so clean. And it was only about twenty minutes outside the city limits too. Hell, it took him longer than that to drive from one end of the city to the other.

He slowed his car, counting the kilometers as they clicked by. "Ten point five, ten point six, ten point seven, and there's the turn off. Exactly where he said it'd be."

Turning into the narrow paved lane, he left the gravel road behind. His client had given him exact directions to the ranch, directions Oliver had needed. It was a little too easy to get lost on the township roads out here. It didn't help that the damn signs were so small. He was used to driving out in the country, but still, this wasn't like trying to find some gas plant. It was kinda hard to miss those.

Horsfall Ranch might be close to the city, but it wasn't exactly easy to get to. Thick brush lined the lane he was practically crawling down, set at the base of tall trees that were obscuring his view to either side. At least the lane was in excellent condition, although he couldn't see anything in front of him but more trees.

He drove around a curve in the road, and suddenly the whole thing opened up. He had to stop the car just to take it all in.

Horsfall sat smack dab in front of him, down a slight incline. The rolling foothills were a picturesque backdrop, with the Rocky Mountains as a steady line marching across the back end in the distance. He could make out the white tops on the mountains; there were only a few wisps of cloud breaking up the blue sky. Great day to be out of the office.

"Damn, I love my job."

Pressing his foot down on the gas pedal, Oliver pulled up to the black wrought iron gate barring his path. Pressing the intercom beside his window, he waited, nervously tapping his fingers on the wheel.

"Hello?" a male voice responded.

"Hi. This is Oliver Philip. I'm here to meet with Bayard Stoddard."

"Sure thing. He's down at the main complex. I'll let him know you're here. Just keep on the road, and you can't miss him."

"Thanks."

The gate opened up slowly, and he made his way through. A small farmhouse sat to the left of the gate, with a big black dog lying on the front porch. He sleepily raised his head, watching Oliver drive past. Oliver chuckled, seriously tempted to stop the car and get out. He absolutely loved animals.

A second house sat back further from the road, a little bigger than the first. He wondered how many people actually lived here. Truth be told, he didn't know much about ranching life. He'd done a bit of research on the company before coming down here, like he always did before accepting a new job, but a website didn't give you much information about the day-to-day workings of a place. Besides, the Horsfall website talked more about their horses than anything else, and most of that information had gone right over his head.

Speaking of which, who knew there would be so many buildings? A large rectangular building stood in front of him, with several smaller ones set around. An empty paddock sat to the right, and he could make out an open barn with machinery just behind the main building. Several gas tanks stood beside the open barn. At least he knew what those were. He felt a little out of his element coming here.

A man stepped out of the large building in front of him. Spying the trucks parked to the right, Oliver pulled his little blue car between two dusty pickups. He opened the door, grabbing his briefcase from the passenger seat. The man had come around to meet him and was now standing at Oliver's back bumper.

Jesus, he'd like to have this man do more than just stand at his back bumper. He was tall, towering over Oliver by at least half a foot. Tanned and devastatingly handsome. Oliver just about swallowed his tongue looking at him. This was what Oliver fantasized about late at night when he was all alone. Fuck, the man was fulfilling almost every one of his dreams physically.

He had a black cowboy hat slanted low on his forehead, and his muscular frame was encased in dusty blue jeans and a worn blue plaid shirt. For a minute Oliver was certain the big man was going to pop the seams on that shirt. It strained across a colossal chest that just begged to be explored.

The cowboy held out one tanned hand. "Mr. Philip, I'm Bayard Stoddard. We spoke on the phone. Thanks for coming out here."

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Jade's writing is as eclectic as her reading tastes. She's also been known to accept writing challenges from friends and family just to see their reactions. She's a firm believer that love and romance are universal concepts, no matter a person's gender identity or sexual orientation. Learn more at Jade's Website

Book Tour Stop: Summer and Shadows by Kathryne Lentes

Title: Summer and Shadows

Series: The Pact of the Veil, Book Two

Author: Kathryne Lentes

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/18/2026

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 35900

Genre: Paranormal, Genre/lit, paranormal, pansexual, trans, poly, shifter, elves, witch, magic, conspiracy

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Description

Sah has gone through a lot in three years. I mean how often does a person find out their sister disappeared, meet a hot detective, get bitten by a werewolf, and discover they are part of a legacy of shape shifters? She thought her life would calm down and she could enjoy a summer vacation in LA. But now she is mixed up with the Fae and a magical serial killer. To survive she must find new allies and embrace her new self without reservation.

Excerpt

Summer and Shadows

Kathryne Lentes © 2026

All Rights Reserved

There are real monsters in the world. I know because I am one of them. After three years, I was still trying to get my head around that fact, even though I was getting ready to attend a convention full of them. The Menagerie, as they called themselves, were a group of shapeshifters who hid from the world. Still, since their discovery was always a dangerous possibility, they had created an entire intellectual property called the Façade to coax people into their world. It started as a game, and with my introduction, they had added novels to the mix. Now, I was traveling to California to try to sell my recent bestseller to a movie studio. I wondered if Dominique would ever forgive me if a werewolf novel of mine made it to the Cineplex before she did.

She didn’t speak up. She was the main character in my first book series and the voice in my head when I was doing something I knew, in most plots, would end with me dead. We’d had a really good run, and her adventures had brought me my first real success, but after most of the changes I had gone through, I had started a new urban fantasy series. It was almost autobiographical, not that anyone would ever believe it.

I mean how often does a person find out their sister disappeared, meet a hot detective, get bitten by a werewolf, find said sister, lose said sister and hot (now maybe new girlfriend?) detective, and blackmail an entire group of supernatural entities to get the pair of them back. Not to mention discover you are part of a legacy of shapeshifters and can now channel a snow leopard totem. And finish up by trying try to live happily ever after only to have to engage in a death match with a psychopathic grudge-bearing werewolf leader.

It was hard for me to believe, and I had lived through it—even if just barely. I took a deep breath and told myself to get out of bed. I don’t know why I was so focused on my past today when the future seemed so promising.

It was probably because Val was out of the house. This was the first big trip I was going to make without her, and I missed her. She was one of the only people I had ever met who accepted me for being the giant pansexual polyamorous mess of a partner I was. I looked in the closet, trying to decide on a dress to pack in my luggage. I was much more comfortable in jeans and a band T-shirt than I was in Chanel, no matter what my budget told me I could afford. I needed something more formal if I was going to meet with a movie producer. Great, now I was beginning to miss my sister Nisha. She was the clothes horse of the family and would not only have brought me six of her dresses but also tried to do my hair and makeup before I left. She was out in Montana with a pack of werewolves. My life was not the only one that had changed a lot in the last couple of years.

As I contemplated which outfit I hated the least, my phone started vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw it was Val.

“Hey, babe, were your ears burning? I was just thinking of you.”

“Well, I did have some feelings in certain parts of my body, but not my ears.”

“Don’t be a tease when you are getting on a plane and going to be gone for a month.”

“Hey, don’t complain. It’s your fault I am going out of town. I can’t believe I am going to be guarding the Speaker at a meeting of the Council of the Pact. I liked my life as a regular detective. Now, I spend most of my day standing around waiting for something to happen.”

“I didn’t tell them to elevate you.”

“Yeah, but since you stole their book of secrets, no one believes me when I say I don’t know anything.”

“Really, but you run out of the room with your hands over your ears, yelling, no, no, no, every time I try to tell you something juicy.”

“Yeah, but it’s guilt by association.”

“You do remember I stole that book to save your ass, right.” Before she could respond, I added, “I mean, it’s a lovely ass that is totally worth saving.” I wanted to make sure she knew I was joshing.

“Yeah, I remember.” She chuckled.

“You know you could quit all those jobs. I make enough; you don’t have to work.”

“I am not going to be a kept woman. I like my job, and I feel there need to be some cops who understand what it is like being an outsider on the force.”

“That reminds me, I was wondering how you are getting time off from the Saint Louis PD for a month.”

“I am on a special undercover assignment with the feds.”

“You know, sometimes I love being part of the Menagerie, and sometimes it scares the fuck out of me. They had an actual FBI agent send a request for you to be excused from work.”

“Yeah…” She let out a slow breath.

“I have to ask you. Are you sure it’s okay if I go on some dates while you are out of the country? I just thought it might be simpler if the first couple were in a different city.”

“Listen, I know your previous partners freaked out every time you mentioned something even in the neighborhood of polyamory, but I am cool with it as long as you keep me in the loop of what you are doing. You can get out there and start figuring out who you are. We will conduct regular check-ins to ensure this works for everyone. So, take the opportunity to have some fun before I come back, and your number one relationship is with Google Calendar.”

“You are the best. Thank you. You were totally worth almost getting killed by a werewolf for.” I heard Val chuckle. We certainly had an interesting “meet cute.”

“Hun, I am getting on the plane, and from here on in, I have to go radio silent. I just wanted to let you know I love you and am going to miss you.”

“Same to you and more of it.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I shoved my phone into my back pocket, and now I was even lonelier. The first thing that popped into my head was chocolate, so I headed toward the kitchen.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Kathryne Lentes has been writing stories as long as she could hold a pen in her hand. She is a transwoman who, when not working on her own projects, operates Paper Phoenix Ink, a blog showcasing queer creators. She is currently living in Saint Louis with her wife, two cats, and a pile of science fiction and fantasy books.

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Discover Jazz Bang Boom by Will Okati

Title: Jazz Bang Boom

Author: Will Okati

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, Mystery /Suspense /Intrigue, New Releases, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sci-Fi

Themes: Alternative Universe, Cyber-Punk, LGBTQ+ Gay, Second Edition

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 33

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Synopsis

Riot’s attempt to teach his pretty lover to behave himself doesn’t… quite… go as planned.

Jazz loves pretty things and things that go BOOM. Tyger, AKA Riot, is a man on a mission, searching for the bits and pieces that’ll repair his damaged, bio-constructed DNA. It only makes sense for the happily mismatched lovers to turn airship pirates and sneak, snatch or con what they need, right?

Right. One problem. Occasionally Jazz gets a little too fond of explosives, and Tyger gets a tad too focused on his quest. When that happens, they need to vent a little steam. So to speak.

Excerpt

Jazz Bang Boom
Second Edition
Will Okati
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2026 Will Okati

T-minus sixty seconds. Really, it was bad manners to blow up a tea party, but some society dames were just asking for it. Jazz landed in the ornamental rose bushes outside his hostess's parlor window, gathered his heavy silk skirts around his knees, and ran like hell.

Not that he was worried. Jazz knew his explosives like he knew his way around the three-dimensional differential equations of a projected illusory field.

And wine. And perfume. What? Jazz prided himself on having layers.

He ticked off the seconds in his head, listening to an internal countdown. Right about now the aforementioned queens of "polite" society (and those who knew Jazz knew far better than to push a particular argument on behavior becoming to a lady and the mind-boggling double-standards that -- oh, anyway).

Jazz did enjoy traveling to different worlds and sampling the finest wines, velvets, songs and yes, incendiary devices from the thousands of cultures that flourished around the galaxies, but the next time his honey, Riot, wanted to spend time where good manners were forbidden in favor of good times? No thanks.

Where had he been? Oh, right. Crap! Cue the fine ladies screeching, coughing and sneezing, the last of a harmless fog floating out the window he'd helpfully, er, opened by jumping through, and they might have regained enough composure after the flash and bang that went with the smoke to have started complaining and oh, right.

Five, four, three, two --

Jazz managed to free himself of the pannier hoops just in time to dive under the cover of a cluster of almost-certainly-sacred ancient oak trees, before -- BOOM.

If a thing was worth doing, it was worth doing properly. "Proper." See what I did there?

This time, however, the dainty device of detonation had not been hidden in Jazz's decolletage (quite convincing cleavage, if he did say so himself). He'd set the charges long before smiling politely and pretending to enjoy a coin-sized cress sandwich in the ladies' salon.

BOOM.

There, that was the ticket! One for distraction, two to cause confusion to his enemies, e.g. the people in possession of A Thing Jazz Wanted, and a third to blow the ever-living fuck out of irritatingly secure locks that otherwise prevented his honey from wholesale liberation of a few deliciously prized goods.

POOF.

Oops. He'd forgotten the fourth bomb in the salon. Well, that one had been a bit spur of the moment. And a leetle more powerful. Enough to, say, jar loose some ripe pickings of his own, if he were lucky. All he needed to do was circle back around, and --

The discreet two-way comms device concealed in the cunning shape of a rosebud earring spoke to him. "Overkill, Jazz. Overkill."

"Spoilsport," Jazz said, and sneezed. "Let he who has never enjoyed the smell of C4 in the morning cast the first stone in a glass house."

"Excuse me?" The voice on the comms sounded amused. "You're high on adrenaline again, aren't you?"

"Pish, tosh, nonsense, and absolutely, yes. Perhaps that was overkill. Others could say I was in the wrong, but I can't blame me."

"You are a ridiculous man," the speaker said fondly.

"I know." Jazz preened. He sneezed again. "Tch. Plastique is one thing. Debris coated in dust is quite another. What about you, tick-tock man? Did you get what you came here for?"

"Stop calling me that," Riot said, quite clear -- even over the comms -- that he didn't mind in the least, and even had a soft spot in his heart for the nickname. "Yeah, I got what I needed. And then some. Wasn't easy to find and I had to pay a price, but it was worth it."

Jazz enjoyed a ripple's worth of goosebumps. He anticipated all sorts of good things once back on board the Sarah-Jessica-No-Parking. A triumphant Riot made for a feisty Riot with his blood running hot and his body all-systems-go. He employed the same affectionate tone when he replied, "Tell that to the watercress and unspiced kimchi I had to eat to make nice with my hostess."

"The one you just blew up?"

"Unspiced kimchi," Jazz repeated.

"The trials and tragedies you face, darlin'."

"Darn right. This piece of the puzzle you went after -- tell me about it," he coaxed.

"Later. For the moment --"

"Yes, yes. Run and keep running until you swoop in to save the day, and clear out of here before the smoke does?"

"You read my mind," Riot said, very dryly indeed but pleased. Almost purring.

Consider Jazz's curiosity piqued.

"I'm on my way." Such a tragedy, but the skirts had to go. Almost a full bolt of silk! Still, a man had to do what a man had to do, even when he'd tricked himself out in the finest of ladies' clothing.

Probably more so at such times. Hmm. He'd have to think about that more later. In the meantime, business. Beautiful, sparkly, gloriously shiny business! Jazz retrieved the pouches of more easily liftable and valuable trinketry from the panniers and pushed them into his reticule.

"Jazz? When I said run, that wasn't a suggestion."

Oh! Right. "And what'll you be doing while I skedaddle? How will I know if I'm being rescued by the right man?"

"I'll be the one dangling out of an airship with a rope and a half-cocked plan."

"Easily recognizable," Jazz said happily. Wait. "How long a rope? How high do the airships go?" Wouldn't exactly Be Done to whip off the 3-D fooler facade, and on this steampunk aficionado's wet dream of a world the airships he'd seen before had to go quite high indeed --"Riot? How high?"

"High enough I'll make it worth your while to man up and climb. And," Riot purred, "when I say 'worth your while' I mean, 'I plan to punish you, then fuck you three-quarters of the way through the nearest flat surface.'"

"I am so on my way now."

"Fast?"

"Darling, you have no idea." Jazz kicked off his heels. Not the shoes, mind, those gorgeous soft-supple open-calf boots of fawn-soft suede. Just the heels and pattens. "After all, who do you think you're talking to?"

Oh dear. Jazz heard a set of mastiffs on their way. Here I go again. Skirts, knees, running feet, check. Go time.

Fast.

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

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.

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New Release Spotlight: The Duke's Runaway Omega

Title: The Duke's Runaway Omega

Author: Autumn Montague

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, Mystery /Suspense /Intrigue, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance

Themes:Capture Fantasy, Dark Romance, Historical (Dark Ages, Regency, Victorian/Gaslamp & Edwardian), LGBTQ+ Gay, LGBTQ+ Sex & Gender Shifters, MPreg

Series: Fated Mates (#1)

Book Length: Novel

Page Count: 137

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Synopsis

Phillip’s on the run, with not just one but two alphas on his trail.

Raised as an alpha, Phillip’s unexpected manifestation as an omega turns his life upside down. His father demands a handfasting, insisting Phillip be mated to whichever alpha wins the day with their pheromones. But when the triumphant alpha turns out to be his school friend Everett, Phillip realizes they are fated mates. However, as a diminished omega, his chances of bearing Ev’s children are slim. Heartbroken, Phillip flees to London.

Everett never expected to be Duke of Harriford. His title brings a slew of distasteful marriage and handfasting offers. The latest invitation for his old friend Phillip shocks Ev into accepting. Phillip is everything he remembers and more, and Ev soon finds himself responding to the potent scent of Phillip’s pheromones. When his mate runs, Ev questions whether their feelings are true, or merely the bond of alpha and omega. Despite his fears, he’s determined to find Phillip and bring him home.

As Ev searches London, Phillip questions the wisdom of his choices. His plans have begun to unravel rather spectacularly. To start with, he’s pregnant, the one thing he thought he’d never be. Worse, there’s an alpha hunting him -- and it’s not Ev.

Excerpt

The Duke's Runaway Omega (Fated Mates 1)

Autumn Montague

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2026 Autumn Montague

Yorkshire, 1811

Lord Phillip Tyerman stared through the barred windows of his tower room at the parade of men and women summoned by his father. All of them were well-heeled and every one of them was looking to make a prestigious match with the earl’s eldest son. The earl’s omega son, who was unable to inherit either lands or title. The earl’s useless son, who wasn’t even a full-fledged omega. Just a not-quite-beta whose first presentation had caused no scandal, lured no lusty alphas, and could have been passed off as little more than being in his second puberty. Not even the beta servants of the household had realized anything was amiss. Only his youngest sister had noticed. It had been Philomena, who was now heir to their father’s estate at fifteen, thanks to her unexpected and early manifestation as a dominant alpha. Lovely Phil, whose patrician nose had wrinkled as though a bad odor had just filled the air.

“What a dreadful stink! Have the oranges gone over?”

Phillip could hear it even now, a full year hence, and it still rankled to the point where he’d taken to wearing a strong sandalwood fragrance to avoid smelling like rotted fruit. His father’s shocked look had likewise never left his mind. The forbidding expression on the earl’s face had been bad enough, but Phillip’s subsequent banishment to the tower room from the heir-presumptive suite had cut even deeper. He had been nearly twenty-two at the time, grown tall and strong. He was the spitting image of his father. Everyone, even his omega mother, had assumed he’d manifest soon as an alpha, and his delicate sister as an omega.

The tall and strong young man had become the omega, and the petite, delicate, and winsome girl had become the alpha. God most certainly had a peculiar sense of humor, at least insofar as the Tyerman family was concerned.

With a snort of irritation at the memory, Phillip turned his attention back to the courtyard below, where the last equipage had rolled up to the front steps. The livery on the carriage door proclaimed the occupant to be a member of the Harrifords. Intrigued despite himself, Phillip opened the windowpanes and peered through the bars, hoping for a glimpse of whomever it was that had come from that prestigious family to gawk at the sale of the Tyermans’ awkward omega son. Of course, even if the occupant proved to be Ev Harriford, Phillip fully intended to be well away from this house long before arrangements could be made to pursue a match with any of these honored guests.

He sighed and turned away from the window, leaving it ajar to bring in fresh air to a room that was stuffy even in the dead of winter. He had no fear of his scent drawing unwelcome attention from all those alphas despite being near his heat. His pheromones were practically indiscernible, as even in heat they never carried much beyond his immediate person. The doors to the tower stair were securely locked, and only his mother and his beta valet carried the keys. He felt no qualms about allowing the room to air out while he dressed for this ridiculous charade.

Well, said charade would come to an abrupt and hopefully embarrassing end for his father. Phillip had a small bag packed with the most minimal necessities safely stowed in the bottom of the wardrobe. He’d return to his rooms to “refresh himself” when the alphas retired for brandy and banter, and he’d make his escape then, while his father negotiated with them for Phillip’s eventual marriage to the highest bidder.

The tiniest tremor ran along his spine. It seemed his estrus had chosen to come in a timely manner. At least he would not have to spend several days in isolation waiting for it to arrive so the festivities could begin in earnest. The mere thought of said festivities sent another shiver through him, this one of disgust.

A brisk tap sounded on the door, followed by the sound of keys in the lock and his mother’s quiet entrance. She gave him a mildly disapproving glance upon seeing him still in his ordinary daywear. “You should always lock the inner door, Phillip,” she chided him. “You ought to be in your tails by now. You have a scant half hour before dinner. Your father wishes you to meet the guests tonight prior to the formal ceremony on Saturday.”

“Ceremony!” Phillip winced as the word came out in shocked tones. “What ceremony?! I thought this was the usual idiotic dinner party series so he can twist the arms of his alpha friends and convince one of them to marry me to their offspring --”

“No, dear,” his mother interrupted with false serenity. She smiled at him, the attempt obviously meant to soothe, yet the smile did not reach her eyes. “The earl has decided to make this a formal handfasting ceremony, to ensure the chosen candidate does not hand you the mitten after. So only the most acceptable and honorable suitors were invited. If you don’t find anyone particularly to your liking, the earl will decide who wins the right to bond with you.”

The earl will decide. His mother’s use of his father’s title told Phillip that Lady Winifred Tyerman did not support this extraordinary decision. It also told Phillip that his father had chosen not to leave the critical matter of his awkward son to chance or romantic feelings. His thrice-damned sire would pick the person who would control Phillip for the rest of his life. Then the true significance of his mother’s words penetrated the fog engendered by the word “ceremony.”

“A handfasting? What on earth are you on about?” Phillip cursed himself for the shake in his voice.

Handfasting was an ancient custom, very much out of use, as it used a bonding bite to ensure the omega couldn’t flee with another alpha or beta. But to do so in this day? The handfasting ceremony included a public bite, binding the omega to the alpha forever, socially and physically, even if the alpha chose to marry someone else. While the ceremony wasn’t precisely outlawed, it was frowned upon as outré and generally reserved only for omegas of wealthy families perilously close to the end of their breeding years.

And this was to be his fate? He’d be damned first.

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Autumn grew up loving history, mythology, and all things Japanese, not necessarily in that order. This eclectic love affair has bled over into her writing, and her stories are always well spiced with the taste of Japan, strange mythological beasties, or the lords and ladies of the ton. Sometimes all three, leading to dark desires and forbidden loves. And after all, dangerous passions should lead to uninhibited love.

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