Showing posts with label medical romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label medical romance. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 11, 2026

Strings Book Blitz #rabtbooktours




Contemporary Romance, Romantic Drama, Women’s Fiction

Date Published: 11-21-2025



With a national lockdown looming, a Southern journalist flees north, determined to jumpstart her career in the safety of a Minnesota wilderness, feisty and wary of entanglements, she piques the interest of a bored Native American rock star.

A pandemic is spreading across the globe. A national lockdown looms in the United States. A Southern journalist sees a chance to protect her health and jumpstart her career by escaping north to a Minnesota wilderness. Feisty and wary of entanglement, she piques the interest of a bored Native American rock star on his way home.

Robby Song’s career may be on hold, but Grace Wheeler is on a mission to build hers. To Robby, she’s an intriguing challenge. To Grace, he’s a distraction she’s not ready to handle. But the brutal Northwoods winter is coming. Grace flees back south . . . to soul-searching isolation and a puzzling middle-of-the-night call.

 


About the Author


Jan Merritt is passionate about teaching both in the classroom and on horses, but brain cancer changed her life. Surgeries and treatments have left her with a new brain, one that does not have skills to teach middle school English or balance to ride horses . . . but loves to create stories.

Jan lives on the coast of South Carolina with strong ties to northern Minnesota. Growing up was filled with rich but conflicting narratives. Her dad told stories about his pioneering Minnesota family, egalitarian values, and the importance of self-reliance. They made annual trips to family cabins on a lake north of Duluth. But in her friends’ homes back in Charleston, she was immersed in plantation lore, tales of the Confederacy, and exclusive traditions of a social set that she was not born into. She is married to a musician who is also a mental health therapist. They have three children.


Contact Links

Website

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Purchase Link

https://mybook.to/STRINGSJanMerritt

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday, February 12, 2026

And Call Me Teaser #rabtbooktours




Friends to Lovers Medical Romance


M/M Romance

Date Published: February 13, 2026


Need a prescription for love? Take two, and call me in the morning.


And Call Me in the Morning: Eli and Zane. Yes, they spend a lot of time together. That doesn’t mean they’re a real couple. When teased about it one too many times by their colleagues, Zane challenges Eli to set the record straight with a kiss to prove there’s absolutely no chemistry between them. Neither expected a spark to ignite between them. More than a spark. Truth be told, Eli’s not so sure they can set the record straight after all.

And Call Me in the Evening: Eli’s still not great at wearing his heart on his sleeve and Zane’s still got trust issues, but they manage just fine. It’s all good. Right? Yes and no. Eli’s ex-wife Marybeth has come back to town, bringing a heaping helping of hassle with her. There’s something to be said for setting the story straight, it’s true. Eli knows he and Zane have a good thing going even if keeping it that way is the hardest -- and best -- part.


Excerpt
Copyright ©2026 Will Okati

Falling in love with his closest friend had never been something Eli planned to do with his life. Wasn’t as if he could have stopped it, though.

Sometimes love just happened.

Even if it took him a while to figure that out.

* * *

“There you are.” Zane laid down the heavy, ivory-colored menu he’d been idly flipping through as Eli approached, making his way through the maze of tables at their regular bistro. “I almost thought you weren’t going to make it.”

Eli sat with a thump, running his hand through his dark brown hair, cut short but still quite capable of standing on end. He grimaced when he discovered he’d forgotten his stethoscope, still wound around his neck.

“Long night?” Zane asked, already waving their server over with the universal “coffee here” gesture.

Eli relaxed and let Zane take care of him. Some days, a man truly appreciated a friend who’d have his back when he needed a rock to shore up against. “Long, long night. Three-car pileup at an intersection. I didn’t want to leave before everyone was stable.”

“That’s my boy.” Zane shifted out of the way to let their server pour Eli’s cup. She was a pretty thing, well packed into her curves -- curves that she offered not so subtly for display.

Zane ignored them. He’d taken Eli’s face in his hands and begun to assess him for signs of exhaustion. The guy had good hands, firm and dry and dexterous. They felt nice and cool against Eli’s skin. He let Eli go with a light slap to the cheek. “Your eyes look like burned holes in a blanket. You should go home and get some rest.”

“Like I’d miss a chance at a fine, elegant brunch?” Eli rolled his eyes.

“Heaven forbid.” Zane gave good deadpan. “Jeez. This is the kind of place I fear running into my family.” How moneyed Zane’s family was, Eli didn’t know. Coming from an ivory tower was a sore spot for Zane, who much preferred the life he’d chosen in a grittier world.

Eli segued to spare Zane any discomfort. What were friends for, right? “You were on last night too. How’d you manage to get away in time for a shower and a sharp morning suit?”

“Questions, questions.” The corners of Zane’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Unlike some of us, I leave when my shift’s done.”

“Since when? You’re as much of a workaholic as I am, if not more. A hospitalist’s work is never done, especially at Immaculate Grace. What was I thinking when I chose that as a career, anyway?”

“That you’re a glutton for punishment?”

“True enough.” Eli drank deeply of his coffee, almost moaning in appreciation. The influx of better-than-decent caffeine stimulated his brain. “Before I forget, I got those concert tickets you begged me for. Two, even.” He patted his dark brown shirt pocket. Plain clothes for a plain man, built tough to last, Chicago born and bred for forty-three years.

Unlike Zane, who looked as fresh as a daisy in a casual white linen jacket, pale violet button-down, and pressed slacks. Pretty as a picture, coming across as maybe five years younger than his forty-one. Zane brightened and made a grab. “Good seats?”

“I’m told they’re the best. Ah-ah-ah.” Eli tapped his pocket again. “I also got advance tickets for a Cubs game when the season starts. Fair is fair. I try not to fall asleep during the chorale or chamber music or whatever you want to call it, and you endure beer, umpire heckling, and giant foam fingers.”

“Done and done. You drive a hard bargain.” Zane clinked coffee cups with Eli. He hadn’t looked away once, but Eli liked that about Zane. When he gave you his full attention, nothing else seemed to matter to him. All part of the Zane package, and it made him the best doctor Eli had known. “I --” He stopped, interrupted by the chiming of his pager. When he checked the number, he grimaced. “Damn. Sorry, I’ve got to take this. Keep that warm for me.”

“What did I tell you? Workaholic. Hey! Do not let them talk you into coming back to the hospital today.”

Zane waved backward at Eli as he walked off. Eli watched him go, amused.

A different server, young and male, approached with the coffeepot. Eli suspected the waitress had gotten fed up with flirting and traded off. Fine by him. This kid had a good eye for refills. He held his cup up. “Keep it coming, but we’re not ordering yet. Still waiting for two.”

And they’d better hurry, if they know what’s good for them.

Eli wasn’t a huge fan of this bistro. Without Zane there to provide a buffer, the place was too rich for his blood. Made him feel like any second someone with a pedigree was going to jump out from behind a column and ask him what a working-class stiff like him thought he was doing here.

“Of course, sir. I’m sorry if I’m being rude,” the waiter said, deftly pouring. “If I could ask -- you two make such a handsome couple. How long have you been together?”

Not this again. Eli didn’t even have to ask what the kid meant. Wasn’t the first time he and Zane had been mistaken for a couple, and he’d bet his hard-earned MD it wouldn’t be the last. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re not.”

The waiter’s coffeepot slipped. “You’re not -- oh. Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“No problem.” Eli waved him off before the kid could apologize again. He’d almost gotten used to the assumption. Whatever people saw in Zane and him, he had no idea. Felt like being on the shooting range sometimes, as many assumptions made about them as they had to dodge. Once corrected, strangers were mostly good about apologizing and moving on.

Friends of theirs, on the other hand, were not so accommodating.

“We made it!” Diana and Holly -- also doctors, both familiar faces at Immaculate Heart -- swarmed the table in a cloud of perfume and joie de vivre. With them, more hesitantly, came a fresh-faced kid Eli vaguely recognized as an intern. The ladies dove into the fresh baguettes and cherry jam their new waiter discreetly slid onto the table before exiting at speed, stage left.

Eli stayed well back from the carnage. Friends they might be, but Holly and Diana -- well, it was best to stay on your toes around them. “Who’s the boy toy?”

Holly, a pale, Nordic-type blonde, swatted Eli’s arm. “Be nice. Taye’s been at work for almost twenty-four hours. He deserved a break, so we brought him along to give him a treat.”

Eli didn’t doubt she spoke the truth. The intern was gray with exhaustion and had bags under his eyes big enough to carry the US mail. For all that, he wasn’t bad-looking. If you noticed male attributes, that was. A well-shaped face and a kind mouth, reddish gold hair cut short and sleek. Eli could tell he was probably handsome given the way Diana eyed him with impressively dirty intent.

“Really?” Eli nudged Diana under the table.

Diana, forty-two and unashamed, attractive in a gamine sort of way, wrinkled her nose at Eli. A damned fine cardiologist and an innovator in her field, she had the sense of humor of a collegiate and saw no point in growing old gracefully. She nudged back, and ouch, she was wearing pointy-toed shoes. “Bah humbug.”

Taye watched them with big eyes. “Is there something going on here that I should know about?”

“Not a thing,” Diana said. Butter wouldn’t have melted between her cherry red lips. She stole Eli’s coffee and sipped demurely.

Holly petted Taye’s hair. “It’s all right, Taye. No one here’s going to bite.”

Taye cracked a grin. “Right. It’s just -- three doctors and me. All of you have been in medicine since I was in grade school. I’m a little nervous.”

“Shows what you know,” Eli said, jumping back into the conversation. “I just finished my residency last year.” He shrugged. “My midlife crisis came early. What can I say?”

“Seriously? But you seem so… I mean, you’re… The way you take charge, I’d thought you were an old pro.”

“Thank you. It’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks. And before you ask, I’m forty-three.” Eli took his cup back from Diana, only to find it empty. “Wench.”

She smirked at Eli. “And don’t you forget it. So where’s your wife?”

“Right now, specifically?” Eli checked his watch, a gift from Zane when he’d been hired on as an attending. “Hell if I know. Either in Nepal with Paolo or in Paris with Neo. I lost track.” Either way, she was doing adventurous things with a man who isn’t married to his job. He couldn’t blame Marybeth. Cops made terrible husbands. When he’d decided to switch to medicine, that’d been the last straw, and he wished her well with… whoever was on the menu this week. “Enough about me.” They knew damn well he didn’t like to talk about personal business in public.

Holly and Diana exchanged glances, the secretly amused and utterly female method of communication Eli had never learned to interpret, God help him.

“Good for her. I was talking about your other wife,” Diana said around a bite of ruby jam and baguette.

“Beg pardon?”

“She means Zane,” Holly said.

That, in Eli’s opinion, was taking it too far, especially in front of a colleague Eli didn’t know. “Enough, the both of you.”

Holly ignored him serenely and put her chin in her hands. “Come to think of it, this might be the first time I’ve seen you without him in weeks.”

Eli could feel Taye watching them, fascinated. “My private life is not up for scrutiny, but for the last time, Zane and I are not together. How many times do I have to say this, and to how many people?”

“Wait, what?” Looked like Taye had forgotten his nerves. He turned to Diana instead of Eli. “Zane is Dr. Novia, right? They’re not…”

“No,” Eli said, annoyed. A flicker of motion in his peripheral vision filled him with relief. “Zane, for the love of God, would you get behind me on this?”

Diana and Holly dissolved into giggles. Zane shrugged, untroubled as ever, and took his seat. He tucked his pager away. “What are we being ridiculed for today?”

“Same old, same old,” Eli said. He passed Zane the bread and jam. “Apparently we want to jump each other’s bones.”

“An oldie, but a goodie.” Zane lifted his chin at Taye. “What are you looking at, junior?”

Taye coughed. “Nothing. Sorry.” He retreated behind a mouthful of fresh-from-the-oven baguette.

Eli had to admire Zane at work. They could have used a laser stare like Zane’s on the force back in the day. He’d have had perps pissing their pants with nothing more than a look.

Zane turned it on Diana. “Look at you, Mrs. Robinson.”

Diana possessed not the smallest trace of shame. “You wish you had my cojones.”

“True.”

Their byplay didn’t stop Holly. Nothing did, as far as Eli could tell. Hell, her husband egged her on; Eli held it in private opinion that the pair of them enjoyed more kink than a Slinky. She folded her hands beneath her chin and gave Zane her best you-can-trust-me psychotherapist face. “It just seems obvious to everyone but the pair of you.”

“It’s true,” Diana said. She started to pick through the packages of fake and real sugar, searching for Splenda. “You go to the symphony together. Ball games. Brunch, for God’s sake. And when was the last time you went out with a woman, the pair of us aside?”

Eli opened his mouth, closed it, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So it’s been a while. I don’t have time for playing the field when I’m trying to get ahead with my career.”

“But you have time to spend with Zane,” Holly said sweetly.

Eli gave up. For the moment.

Diana didn’t. “Take, for example, the way you two are sitting. Shoulder to shoulder.”

“The table is crowded,” Eli protested. “Four-person table, five people jammed in. You’re plastered against Taye.”

Diana smiled like a cat who’d just gotten her first taste of the cream and said nothing.

Fine, that hadn’t helped. Frustrated, Eli looked to Zane for support. No luck; Zane was busy waving for more coffee all around.

Eli wasn’t an idiot. When he examined Zane through objective eyes, he could see the appeal. Zane looked closer to thirty than forty, excepting the smile lines and small sprinkling of silver in his hair, and it was a trim, fit thirty with a body he kept in tip-top shape with rigorous exercise.

Not that Eli had anything to be ashamed of on that count, either. Zane’s enthusiasm for biking and boxing had chivied Eli out of the threat of middle-aged spread and back into better shape than he’d been on the force. Handsome, fit, successful.

So yes, he noticed these things. Didn’t everybody? And so they spent most of their time together. Mankind wasn’t made to be alone. Big deal.

Zane’s beeper shrilled. He rolled his eyes to the heavens. “I’m going to take this in my car. If the waiter comes around, order for me, but no meat. As soon as we’re done here I’m going back to Immaculate Grace and carving myself a filet of intern. Not you,” he said as an aside to Taye. “You’re doing great. Keep up the good work. Eli, tell them I want the usual, okay?”

Eli didn’t let Diana or Holly ask. “Yes, I know his usual. Belgian waffle with cinnamon sugar and whipped cream, the real stuff, and a fruit salad. No strawberries.” He swatted Zane’s hip as Zane scooted behind him and away. “Don’t worry; I’ve got it covered.”

“No strawberries?” Taye asked.

“He’s allergic,” Eli said. Medicine fell outside the personal-business umbrella, and Zane considered nothing taboo anyway. Still grated Eli’s nerves a bit to answer. “I’ve never seen how allergic, but he carries an EpiPen. No sense taking chances.”

Hoping the subject would be dropped, knowing there was no way he’d get that lucky, Eli studied the menu until he could no longer ignore the women clicking their tongues at him. Approximately thirty seconds. “What?”

The women exchanged Highly Significant Looks. “Doth the gentleman protest too much?” Diana asked.

“He doth,” Holly agreed. “Let me ask you a question, Eli.”

“Since I’m well aware that I can’t stop you, please, proceed.” Eli crossed his arms and waited for it.

“How much time did you spend with your ex-wife before she took off for -- where was it again?” She shushed him before he could answer. “It’s Austria with Pieter, by the way. I actually know this, and you don’t. Now tell me: how much time do you spend with Zane?”

Eli scowled and said nothing.

Holly pounced. “You see? I’ll bet you can even tell me where Zane was night before last.”

There was no way he would win here, was there? “My place,” Eli admitted. “Takeout and Die Hard. What’s your point?”

“I think their point is that you’re all but married,” Taye said. Apparently he’d chosen sides. Good to know. For that, he would pay. “Look, I know a few things about what it’s like to love your own gender. It’s strange as hell at first.”

Diana’s face fell in a way that would have been heartbreaking if it hadn’t been ever so satisfying instead. “You’re --”

Taye blushed but kept his chin up. “Yes.”

“No disrespect to you personally intended, Taye, but can I just say ha?” Eli pointed at Holly and Diana in turn. “Your gaydar needs a tune-up.”

Diana didn’t take defeat graciously. She narrowed her eyes at Taye. “Prove it.”

“Hey.” Eli straightened. “Nobody around here has to prove anything. Diana, leave him alone.”

Taye’s color heightened. “I can fight my own battles, thanks.”

Eli held up his hands in mock surrender. “Suit yourself, tough guy.”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep followed by the powerful coffee, or maybe Taye was one of those fortunate fools who didn’t hesitate to jump in where mortals feared to tread. “Excuse me.” Taye touched the waiter’s arm as he approached, coming in on the third round of coffee refills. “Would it be all right with you if I kissed you?”

The waiter stared at him. Eli waited for the “No!”

Instead, their waiter did a quick check to make sure no managerial eyes were on him, slid his carafe onto the table, and pressed in close to Taye. “I thought you’d never ask, handsome.” He stood on tiptoe and --

Eli sighed. Holly made cooing noises that unfortunately didn’t cover up the noises of a highly enthusiastic kiss. A darker mood still shadowed Eli’s thoughts when the sound of the smacking prompted a stir in his groin.

He tapped his foot thoughtfully. All right, so maybe it’s been a longer dry spell than I’ll admit to this crowd. I’m a busy man. That doesn’t mean listening to two pretty boys make out turns me on. Or Zane. It just means I need to get laid, or at least spend a quality afternoon with my right hand.

“Is that what we’re leaving instead of a tip?” Zane made his reappearance without fanfare or notice from anyone except Eli. “If that’s the case, we should take Taye out with us more often.”

Eli chuckled. “I was just enjoying the sight of Diana proved wrong.”

Diana scowled at Taye. “He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he? No wonder you were willing to brunch instead of crash.”

“Can you blame me?” Taye kissed the waiter again, this time on the tip of his nose. “See you later, handsome.”

Was he? Eli couldn’t see the appeal, himself. Waiter-boy was shorter than Taye by at least half a foot, wiry, curly dark hair, a button nose… Okay, maybe he could see it a little. Discomfort at PDA aside, Eli was man enough to admit the pair of them were almost cute. He knew he’d be just as fidgety with a hetero couple. The last time Holly’s computer-something-or-another-engineer husband, Keith, had come along to brunch, he’d almost wanted to crawl under the table.

Not even Diana could stand up against that. She sighed and shifted fully from tigress on the hunt to full-fledged fan club member. “Worth it.”

A faint touch at his elbow drew Eli’s attention to Holly. “You see?” she asked, quiet as a mouse. A far-too-knowing mouse. “That’s the way you and Zane look at each other. You’re the only two who can’t see it.”

“Be that as it may. We’re not interested. Not homophobic, Taye, so no offense to you. You two ladies, stop going there. This is the last time I’m going to ask. We’re friends. That’s all. Leave it alone.”

Diana clicked her tongue against her teeth. Eli didn’t like the look on her face. Too suspicious by half. “Let me ask you this. How do you know there’s nothing more to it? Have you ever tried?”

Even Holly tried to shush her at that, but the damage was done. “I think we’re done here.” Eli dropped his napkin on the table and stood. “My private life is just that: private. I’ve had about enough of defending myself.”

“Like I said. Protesting too much,” Diana said. She wasn’t one to back down. Normally Eli liked that about her. Normally. Not so much now. “Look it up.”

 

About the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will's definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he -- not she anymore -- is a lot less quiet these days.

 

Author Contact Links

Will on Facebook

Will on Instagram

Will on Goodreads

 

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

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



RABT Book Tours & PR

Wednesday, December 3, 2025

Holiday Fatigue Teaser #rabtbooktours




Gay Christmas Romance, Medical, Interracial

Date Published: December 5, 2025



For husbands Peter and Abe, Christmas is a time for miracles -- and unexpected party crashers.

 

Peter is all set to make this Christmas season the best for his husband. That is, until a cat is all but thrown into his lap and an unexpected and unwanted man crashes at their house for the holidays. Worse than the lack of privacy is the curtailing of their light BDSM play.

Abe can’t say no when an old flame begs for a place to stay. Temporarily. This man has fallen on hard times and needs a little kindness. However, there’s something more he wants than a roof over his head. As Abe struggles against seasonal depression, a couple of cats come to enliven the home he shares with Peter.

Between grief, jealousy, and a prying houseguest, can Abe and Peter kindle their spirits toward lovemaking and the holidays?

 

WARNING: Holiday Fatigue includes references to cutting behavior and thoughts of suicide that may be triggers for some readers, as well as mention of animal cruelty.




EXCERPT

 

Peter didn’t love the end of the semester, no matter that it meant a day off from teaching. He would much rather be filling his students’ heads with math facts than plugging in grades. Of course, if he hadn’t left so many assignments till the last minute, having graded them but not bothered to put them in the computer… He threw up his hands in exasperation and then signed, to no one in particular, “Why do I always do this to myself?”

He glanced around, seeing he was still alone in the classroom he shared with another co-teacher. He would normally not worry about others seeing him sign. Most people were hearing folks and didn’t know more than the alphabet, if they even knew that much, in ASL. He worked, though, at a school for the deaf, and the chances of someone knowing he was frustrated were high.

Probably some of the other teachers were in the same boat, having pushed off putting grades in the computer until this, the last day of the quarter before winter break. That was of no comfort when his co-teacher, Laura, was done with her grades and was hanging out somewhere in the building until three o’clock.

He darted a glance at his watch, saw he only had an hour and a half to finish inputting grades, and signed a little F-bomb.

An hour later found him sweating and swearing in his head, trying to work so fast that his fingers kept tripping over each other.

Someone touched his shoulder. He jumped a foot. Turning in his chair, he saw Laura gazing at him with a look of concern on her face. Then that expression passed and she wrinkled her nose at him before signing, “Are you still working?”

He nodded, wanting to return to his work but not wanting to put his back to her. That was rude.

“Give me your login and the list of remaining grades. We’ll divide and conquer.”

He hesitated, but only for an instant. Laura wasn’t the type to make offers like this every day. “Thank you,” he signed. “Why are you --”

“Consider it the gift from your Secret Santa.” She smirked. “You forgot we were exchanging gifts in the teacher’s lounge at 2:30, didn’t you?”

“Guilty,” he responded.

“Give me your login and I’ll help. Then you need to give your gift before your person leaves.”

“Too late,” Peter signed back before handing her a stack of graded papers. Hands free again, he signed, “Brent’s already left for the day. His kid got an ear infection on the last day of school.”

“Sucks,” she signed, her face sympathetic.

He jotted down his computer info and walked it over to her as she booted up her machine. “Thank you, Laura. Really.”

“I forgot to get you a gift,” she admitted.

“This is better than some ten-dollar token,” he assured her.

At exactly 2:58, he shut down his computer. Laura, who was a faster typist than he was, had finished her stack about five minutes earlier.

“Go home,” she signed. “Just don’t count on me saving your ass in the spring.”

He got out as soon as he could, his thoughts turning from gratitude to dreams of his husband. Abe, named for the poet and playwright Kobo Abe, wasn’t a fan of this particular holiday. Peter had been slowly changing that for his lover over the years, but each year it was a struggle to find out what would help Abe forget his pain.

He waved at another teacher as he headed for the main doors. This was a relatively new guy and for a moment, Peter couldn’t remember his name.

“Hi, Peter,” the unnamed man signed. “Have a good break.”

Peter frowned, realized he probably looked like the proverbial grouch, and held up a hand for the new teacher to stop. “What’s your name?” he signed.

“Estaban.” He grinned. “Spanish as the day is long and a gift from my immigrant parents that I don’t always appreciate.”

Yes, Peter remembered now. He hadn’t interacted with the new Spanish teacher since he’d arrived here two months ago because he was on another floor and that might as well be in another kingdom. “Sorry,” he apologized. “My brain is…” He shrugged.

“Already on break?” Estaban suggested.

Well, in a way, Peter thought as he excused himself and went outside. He walked to the sidewalk that paralleled the street. He could order a shared ride from the front of the school, but he felt restless. It was two hours before Abe would even be thinking about coming home. All day, Peter had been thinking, not of the grades or his lackadaisical way of letting them pile up, but of his husband and Christmas. Now, as he turned down Forrest Street in Colton, which was the college town closest to their home in Marisburg, he considered his unusual agitation. Abe had been acting steady as the day was long for a while now. There was no reason to expect he’d sink into depression. Even if he did, it wasn’t as if depression was his choice.

Peter looked up when he saw a flash of color out of the corner of his eye and had to smile. Every single tree had lights in their branches. Most of the lights were the beautiful, if common, white ones. The tree he was currently looking at had been decorated in tiny, colorful orbs. He smiled up at the tree that stood out. He touched the bark of the tree and grinned in appreciation. He would bring Abe down to see this tree. They’d call it the “Christmas Pride” tree.

Having a plan for this Thursday night at last, even if it was only to view a tree that stood out among its fellows, Peter took out his phone to order his shared ride. Before he could drop his gaze to the screen, he was caught off guard by another swash of color, this time moving fast. Self-preservation made him look up as a car, slowing abruptly, seemed to coast in front of him. With the colorfully decorated tree in the way, he couldn’t see everything clearly, but something was hurled out of the passenger window before the car sped off again.

People were such slobs. He wasn’t a trash collector by nature, but something about the white and black thing thrown out of the car’s window caught his attention. It was the right size to be any number of things, but the way it had twisted in midair… He went to the snowdrift where the careless people had aimed… and when he peered into the hole made by the object, he saw yellowish eyes looking back at him.

He gaped even as he tore off his winter coat and stooped to scoop up the little animal. It was a kitten, he realized, or a very small cat if it was full-grown. Mostly white with black splotches, it hissed at him as he bundled it into his coat.

The little critter wriggled hard and managed to get a paw free. The cat lashed out with razor-sharp claws and if not for Peter’s gloves, he would have taken quite the injury. As it was, one tiny cat nail caught in the leather of his right glove and the cat opened its mouth wide, surely making quite a fuss.

Peter carefully freed the little demon’s claw and reworked the bundling so the cat wouldn’t hurt him. If he’d been tossed out of a moving car, he’d be pissed too.

As he trekked back to the school, thinking of having the nurse check out the little feline monster before he took them home, the cat’s name flashed in his mind, and he grinned even as he cautioned himself that surely he and Abe couldn’t keep this little fighter. He’d try to impress upon whoever ended up with the cat that his or her name was Catankerous.

As he walked, goose bumps popped out on his arms, which were covered only by a short-sleeved polo because the school tended to run hot. He thought about nuzzling Catankerous, but the wicked gleam in their eyes made him reconsider. He wished he could speak to them, let them know help was coming.

Maybe two dozen steps from the front doors of the school, the cat settled down and quit struggling. Then, through the coat where he’d pressed it against his chest, Peter felt the attack cat begin to purr.


About the Author

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

 

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter


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

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

 

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Wednesday, July 9, 2025

Just What the Doctor Hired Release Blitz #rabtbooktours




Sweet romance, romance, romcom, contemporary romance, closed door romance, clean romance

Date Published: July 9, 2025



Student Autumn Haze’s motto is: no men until she completes her bachelor of nursing degree. Years before, Autumn learned the hard way men are just a distraction she can’t afford until she’s established her career and what she wants. While moonlighting as a Plus One companion pays the bills, she struggles to follow her rules after meeting her newest contract. Pediatric Hospitalist Jensen Edwards is still recovering from a bad breakup that left him the talk of the hospital. Now he’s receiving a best doctor’s award, but after he hires Autumn as his plus one, Jensen is on edge. If word gets out that he hired a companion, rumors are bound to circulate, making work unbearable—again. Their chemistry as a fake couple is undeniable, but can a chance at a real relationship override their fear of commitment?

 

About the Author


Amanda and Lisa-Marie are an award-winning, co-writing team of best friends who share imaginary worlds, including Men In Books Aren't Better (September 29, 2024), Just What the Doctor Hired (July 9, 2025), and a short story, Shivers, published in Moments Between (February 28, 2022). Lisa-Marie Potter (BIPOC) is a mom of four who grew up in Nottingham, England, and now resides in Alaska with her husband and golden retriever. Amanda Nelson grew up in Maryland and moved to Arizona, where she attended ASU and currently lives with her husband and four kids. Both women are hopeless romantics, but Lisa-Marie also enjoys suspense novels, while Amanda's second go-to genre is romancy. The duo review books on their socials, hike the Olympic National Park, and fight over the same fictional crushes.

 

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Friday, December 13, 2024

Trust Is Sacred New Release Blitz #IndiGo

Title: Trust is Sacred

Author: Emily Carrington

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: December 13, 2024

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Cover Art: Angela Knight

Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense

Themes: Gay, Holiday Themes, Medical Romance, Multicultural & Interracial, Werewolves & Wolf Shifters

Series: Medically Necessary (#3)

Multiverse: Searchlight Academy (#12)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 114

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Without trust, nothing is sacred. Not even long-held beliefs.

Oliver’s terrible secret is eating both himself and his would-be mate alive. He and Amir have been apart for three months, and absence indeed makes the heart grow fonder. Unfortunately, there’s terror, pain, and deceit lying between them.

Amir thinks purging and confession are medically necessary for spiritual and physical well-being. Oliver will stop at almost nothing to hide his scars.

Can these two be mated in truth or will Oliver’s past and Amir’s unstated fears push them away before the werewolves’ most sacred holiday, Winter Solstice?

Excerpt

Trust is Sacred (Medically Necessary 3)
Emily Carrington
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Emily Carrington

August

In a very real sense, Oliver’s heart hadn’t ached this way in years. It was a mixture of longing and a sweet promise of eventual homecoming. He’d just sent his lover away on an airplane, back to New York. Amir would gather together his staff, choose a new doctor to take over his practice, and then be back down here to live with Oliver.

To become Oliver’s mate.

Werewolves didn’t have spouses. Except when they did. They also didn’t have Life Dancers. That was a psychic vampire thing, knowledge Oliver had gained over the last month. Wolves had mates, a name for their beloved, the person with whom they wanted to spend the rest of their lives.

He’d had a mate before. This time would be different. He’d protect his mate. He’d keep him safe, no matter the cost, and he wouldn’t allow his nightmares to drive them apart. To shove his lover toward the singular choice of suicide.

He pulled up in front of Llosgia Maxine’s house, where his heart told him he belonged. Granted, she hadn’t exactly accepted her title of alpha, or the duties commensurate with that status change. She would, though. He had faith. Well, mostly he had faith. Sometimes he worried that Tilthos Charles’s words would come true and Llosgia Maxine would choose to take up no title at all.

Except, of course, she’d already claimed Director of Werewolf Watch for herself. Maybe she couldn’t take on that responsibility and…

The front door opened and Tilthos Charles stepped out, looking even stronger than he had the night before, when he’d arrived at Llosgia Maxine’s and asked for a place for himself and his lover to sleep. Now, in the dimness of false dawn, the alpha above all alphas shouldn’t have been able to use his limited vision to see more than a car approaching. However, that didn’t seem to be the case because he smiled and waved as if he knew exactly who was arriving.

Oliver considered driving away. He didn’t want to hear the political answer as to why the Kreisha pack was still allowed to exist after all the shit three of its members had pulled. Geoffrey Huntington, Noah Travers, and Josiah Cobb had plotted to drive Tilthos Charles mad. They had made it so hearing his rightful title had caused him physical and psychic pain. They’d forced him to attack his lover, Luis. Now, though, surely Tilthos Charles was coming to tell him they’d been forgiven for some fucked-up political reason that boiled down to the alpha above all alphas… what? Didn’t want to kill? That might just be it.

The alpha above all alphas’ soft voice was in his head suddenly. Open the door, Oliver.

Oliver unlocked the doors. He waited for the alpha above all alphas to sit beside him, or order him to get out of the car, denying him his escape.

He acknowledged his expectations had no basis in reality, especially because everything he’d seen of Tilthos Charles when the leader was in his right mind was favorable. Still, he didn’t actually know how Tilthos Charles governed. He was only assuming, based on the one alpha he knew, that Tilthos Charles might have allowed power to go to his head.

“So uncharitable,” the alpha above all alphas said after opening the door. He sat in the passenger seat, folded his white cane, the symbol of his visual impairment, and then buckled himself in. “Feel free to drive if it will make you less edgy.”

“You’re reading my every thought?” Oliver asked. He’d assumed his shields were better than that.

“Not quite. You’re not projecting everything, I don’t think, but you’re very unhappy with me and that carries just fine.”

Oliver relocked the doors and pulled out of the driveway. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere that you can drive and listen without getting us in an accident would be good.”

Oliver grunted.

To his amazement, the leader of most of the world’s werewolves on this side of the Atlantic laughed. “You sound like Luis when he’s unhappy. Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

Oliver couldn’t bring himself to accuse the alpha above all alphas of any wrongdoing. Instead, he asked, “What happened to the six wolves who attacked you?”

“Huntington, Travers, and Cobb have been placed with different packs, separated by quite a bit of geography. Their new alphas reassure me their movements will be closely observed.”

Oliver turned off Llosgia Maxine’s street and just headed south, away from Washington, DC. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drive in heavy traffic and listen. “Why are they still alive?”

“I’m not in the habit of killing every single wolf who’s tried a coup. There would be considerably fewer wolves in the world if I exacted that sort of revenge. They’re being watched by three alphas I trust implicitly and I’m sure these bastards will show their true colors again. And unlike in baseball, they only get two chances.” He turned his head away from Oliver. “They’re not the only ones I’m watching. Kreisha Alexander let this go on right under his nose. At best, the very best, that makes him not perceptive enough.”

He faced Oliver again. “I’m asking you to keep me informed if he does anything inappropriate, dangerous, or careless. I don’t order you because I don’t want to step on your agency that way.”

“Please order me,” Oliver blurted.

That got him a raised eyebrow.

“Kreisha Alexander is in the habit of ordering his wolves not to share things, good or bad, outside the pack. If I have your order first, and because you outrank him, I’ll be able to tattletale.” He grimaced. “That came out more bitter than I anticipated or meant. I’m sorry.”

Tilthos Charles seemed to have caught onto another part of his speech, however, because he said, “Is there anything you’re forbidden to share with me?” There was a growl in his voice.

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

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

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Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code! 


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Tuesday, December 10, 2024

Trust is Sacred Teaser Tuesday #rabtbooktours

 

(Medically Necessary 3)

 

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Steamy

Date Published: December 13, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press


 

Without trust, nothing is sacred. Not even long-held beliefs.

Oliver’s terrible secret is eating both himself and his would-be mate alive. He and Amir have been apart for three months, and absence indeed makes the heart grow fonder. Unfortunately, there’s terror, pain, and deceit lying between them.

Amir thinks purging and confession are medically necessary for spiritual and physical well-being. Oliver will stop at almost nothing to hide his scars.

Can these two be mated in truth or will Oliver’s past and Amir’s unstated fears push them away before the werewolves’ most sacred holiday, Winter Solstice?

 

 


Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Emily Carrington

 

August

 

In a very real sense, Oliver’s heart hadn’t ached this way in years. It was a mixture of longing and a sweet promise of eventual homecoming. He’d just sent his lover away on an airplane, back to New York. Amir would gather together his staff, choose a new doctor to take over his practice, and then be back down here to live with Oliver.

To become Oliver’s mate.

Werewolves didn’t have spouses. Except when they did. They also didn’t have Life Dancers. That was a psychic vampire thing, knowledge Oliver had gained over the last month. Wolves had mates, a name for their beloved, the person with whom they wanted to spend the rest of their lives.

He’d had a mate before. This time would be different. He’d protect his mate. He’d keep him safe, no matter the cost, and he wouldn’t allow his nightmares to drive them apart. To shove his lover toward the singular choice of suicide.

He pulled up in front of Llosgia Maxine’s house, where his heart told him he belonged. Granted, she hadn’t exactly accepted her title of alpha, or the duties commensurate with that status change. She would, though. He had faith. Well, mostly he had faith. Sometimes he worried that Tilthos Charles’s words would come true and Llosgia Maxine would choose to take up no title at all.

Except, of course, she’d already claimed Director of Werewolf Watch for herself. Maybe she couldn’t take on that responsibility and…

The front door opened and Tilthos Charles stepped out, looking even stronger than he had the night before, when he’d arrived at Llosgia Maxine’s and asked for a place for himself and his lover to sleep. Now, in the dimness of false dawn, the alpha above all alphas shouldn’t have been able to use his limited vision to see more than a car approaching. However, that didn’t seem to be the case because he smiled and waved as if he knew exactly who was arriving.

Oliver considered driving away. He didn’t want to hear the political answer as to why the Kreisha pack was still allowed to exist after all the shit three of its members had pulled. Geoffrey Huntington, Noah Travers, and Josiah Cobb had plotted to drive Tilthos Charles mad. They had made it so hearing his rightful title had caused him physical and psychic pain. They’d forced him to attack his lover, Luis. Now, though, surely Tilthos Charles was coming to tell him they’d been forgiven for some fucked-up political reason that boiled down to the alpha above all alphas… what? Didn’t want to kill? That might just be it.

The alpha above all alphas’ soft voice was in his head suddenly. Open the door, Oliver.

Oliver unlocked the doors. He waited for the alpha above all alphas to sit beside him, or order him to get out of the car, denying him his escape.

He acknowledged his expectations had no basis in reality, especially because everything he’d seen of Tilthos Charles when the leader was in his right mind was favorable. Still, he didn’t actually know how Tilthos Charles governed. He was only assuming, based on the one alpha he knew, that Tilthos Charles might have allowed power to go to his head.

“So uncharitable,” the alpha above all alphas said after opening the door. He sat in the passenger seat, folded his white cane, the symbol of his visual impairment, and then buckled himself in. “Feel free to drive if it will make you less edgy.”

“You’re reading my every thought?” Oliver asked. He’d assumed his shields were better than that.

“Not quite. You’re not projecting everything, I don’t think, but you’re very unhappy with me and that carries just fine.”

Oliver relocked the doors and pulled out of the driveway. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere that you can drive and listen without getting us in an accident would be good.”

Oliver grunted.

To his amazement, the leader of most of the world’s werewolves on this side of the Atlantic laughed. “You sound like Luis when he’s unhappy. Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

Oliver couldn’t bring himself to accuse the alpha above all alphas of any wrongdoing. Instead, he asked, “What happened to the six wolves who attacked you?”

“Huntington, Travers, and Cobb have been placed with different packs, separated by quite a bit of geography. Their new alphas reassure me their movements will be closely observed.”

Oliver turned off Llosgia Maxine’s street and just headed south, away from Washington, DC. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drive in heavy traffic and listen. “Why are they still alive?”

“I’m not in the habit of killing every single wolf who’s tried a coup. There would be considerably fewer wolves in the world if I exacted that sort of revenge. They’re being watched by three alphas I trust implicitly and I’m sure these bastards will show their true colors again. And unlike in baseball, they only get two chances.” He turned his head away from Oliver. “They’re not the only ones I’m watching. Kreisha Alexander let this go on right under his nose. At best, the very best, that makes him not perceptive enough.”

He faced Oliver again. “I’m asking you to keep me informed if he does anything inappropriate, dangerous, or careless. I don’t order you because I don’t want to step on your agency that way.”

“Please order me,” Oliver blurted.

That got him a raised eyebrow.

“Kreisha Alexander is in the habit of ordering his wolves not to share things, good or bad, outside the pack. If I have your order first, and because you outrank him, I’ll be able to tattletale.” He grimaced. “That came out more bitter than I anticipated or meant. I’m sorry.”

Tilthos Charles seemed to have caught onto another part of his speech, however, because he said, “Is there anything you’re forbidden to share with me?” There was a growl in his voice.

 

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.


Contact Links

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

 

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

 

 

Pre-Order Today



RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Doctor Doctor New Release Blitz #IndiGo

Title:  Doctor, Doctor

Series: Doctor, Doctor

Author: Will Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: March 8, 2024

Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 136 pages

Genre: 2nd Chance Romance, Gay, Medical Romance, Multiple Partners, New Adult

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Love isn’t easy and it’s rarely simple. More often than not it takes practice. Lots of practice.

It Takes Practice (Doctor, Doctor 1)

Dr. Nathan Rey has had a case of broken heart syndrome since his wild, bad-boy lover disappeared. He still can’t forget Fitz, and no one he’s met since could begin to compare. Then Nathan’s nurse elopes overnight and the temp agency sends him, certified and licensed, Fitz himself, with far more than work on his mind. Fitz means to convince Nathan seven years isn’t too long to wait for a second chance at the love of a lifetime.

It Takes Three (Doctor, Doctor 2)

Three med students. Geoff’s wound tight as a cheap watch. Ross is, too, but unless it’s got to do with math or science he’s oblivious. Aurélien’s uber-zen, uber-practical. With exams coming up fast, they’re all in desperate need of some R & R. What better way than getting a little action? Together. Multiple times, and in multiple ways. Once they get started these guys “work” well together. Maybe a little too much so. Aren’t things like this supposed to be hard? In this case, the answer to all their questions is three.

Alert: This excerpt contains material suitable only for adult readers.
Excerpt

Over Their Heads (The Deep End 2)
Alex Winters
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Alex Winters

Nash

“Nice, uh… place?”

Nash Archer heard his own voice, sounding rich and thick and very, very far away. It was as strange as everything else about the curious predicament he’d suddenly found himself in. The sexy stranger in the clingy Lost Lake University T-shirt rolled his soft hazel eyes. “Is that all you have to say?”

Nash arched an eyebrow, desperately struggling to appear cool, calm and collected when, after all, his heart was racing a million miles per minute. “No,” he replied, still in that far away voice. “I’m sure I’ll have more later but… for now? I’ve never been in the Academic Dorm before.”

“Me either, until I moved in.” The stranger agreed, wriggling atop the narrow ledge against the big picture window overlooking the campus ten stories below, not to mention the glistening shimmer off Lost Lake. “We’re both freshmen, remember?”

Nash stood cautiously, his hand still resting on the small countertop just inside the tidy dorm room. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Why don’t you come a little closer?” Smart Guy asked, cool and confident-like, nodding at where Nash clung to the counter as if to a life raft. It sounded less like a come on and more like something he’d said to every visitor he’d invited in. A cheesy line. Nash didn’t like that. He wanted to feel special.

Unique. This might have been old hat for his sexy host, but it was all new to Nash and he supposed he was still hoping for a little pomp and circumstance.

“I will,” Nash promised, heart still thudding and palms still clammy, just like they’d been the whole walk across campus. “I’m trying to take this slow, though, you know?”

Smart Guy -- they hadn’t exchanged names back in the campus library, just furtive glances and soft, lingering smiles among the towering stacks that hid them from prying eyes -- gave a playful snort.

“Virgin, huh?”

“How’d you guess?”

Nash wasn’t shy about it. Not exactly. He was here, after all, in this sexy stranger’s dorm room in the middle of the day, staring at his hard body outlined in the flattering sunlight streaming in through the window at his back. He wouldn’t be able to hide his boy-on-boy virginity for much longer anyway.

Smart Guy shrugged, the slight movement sending a glint off his thick glasses, so at odds with his firm, buff body. “Virgins always want to take their time.”

Archer finally chuckled, an angsty combo of genuine humor and pent-up nerves. “Oh, you’re an expert on such matters, huh?”

Smart Guy smiled. Thick lips. Plucky little nose holding his glasses up beneath a spray of soft blond curls that looked like fresh hay in the afternoon sun streaming in behind him. “Not an expert, no, but… enough to know you’re going to stay a virgin if you don’t come any closer eventually.”

Nash glanced at the glaringly obvious hard-on beneath the hem of Smart Guy’s faded maroon T-shirt, so stiff and erect it was teasing the waistband of his shorts away from an impossibly flat belly. “Not until you put that thing away,” he teased, even as Nash inched gently closer across the vinyl flooring beneath his feet.

Smart Guy glanced down as if not having noticed the sudden draft on the front of his shorts. He glanced back up, fixing Nash with a penetrating gaze, the same one that had so enraptured him back in the library. “Why would I do that?” he challenged in a voice that was as confident as Nash’s was timid. “I mean, isn’t that what you came here for?”

Nash couldn’t argue with that logic. He had come here for that very thing. Had come to college, in fact, for that very thing. Dick. The one thing that had eluded him back in high school. The one thing he’d craved for as long as he could remember. He nodded, unafraid now that the door had been shut behind him. After all, he’d come here for someone like Smart Guy, who was so lean and buff, beckoning Nash with the outline of his hard, stiff dick as he lounged atop the window ledge like some sweet confection, just out of reach.

Nash nodded, but stopped just shy of contact. “It is pretty, your dick.” The words shocked him, even as they thrilled him. He’d never spoken like this before. Never done anything like this before. Met some random hot guy in the library? Followed him home to his dorm? Praised another guy’s cock without glancing around the room for stray witnesses?

Nash was unmoored, floating through unfamiliar territory, feeling things out as he went along. It was as frightening as it was thrilling, and he never wanted it to end.

Smart Guy’s eyes widened, and not ironically. He seemed genuinely surprised. “How do you know? You won’t even look at it.”

Nash shrugged almost casually, as if perhaps they were studying a movie poster in front of the local theater and not, in fact, some random guy’s cock. “I can just tell. It’ll be just like the rest of you. Hard. Smooth. Pretty.”

Smart Guy was blushing. A first. Nash smiled, to have made another boy blush. Was that a first, too? he wondered, reaching out a trembling hand to slide a lock of feathery blond hair behind Smart Guy’s blushing ear.

Smart Guy sat perfectly still, letting out a soft, almost helpless sigh. It sounded so alluring, so deep and guttural and desperate, Nash wanted to actually feel it. He leaned in for a kiss, surprising Smart Guy yet again. He felt the flinch, the stiffening and then, suddenly, the softening as his sexy host warmed to their lips’ tender embrace.

Nash leaned back before things could get too heavy, watching as Smart Guy smiled, licking his lips as if to prove to himself -- to both of them -- that it had just happened. The kiss. Their first. His, certainly. His first ever.

“Nice,” Smart Guy marveled, less full of shit than he’d been all afternoon. He sounded genuinely surprised. So surprised he had to go and repeat himself, as if to make sure. “That was really… nice.”

“Right?” Nash murmured, swallowing hard and nodding at the same time. “Nice,” he breathed, leaning in for another kiss and closing the distance between them at the same time. He leaned gently back once more, smiling with full, wet lips. “And slow.”

“Okay, okay.” Smart Guy nodded, hands still gripping the window ledge at his side. “I can see the upside of this.”

Nash struggled to control his heart rate, smiling. “Funny, all I see is upside.”

Smart Guy glanced gently sideways, peering out the window behind him at the small but tidy campus below. “Want me to close these, or…” His casual tone made it clear the question was purely rhetorical. Nash played along anyway, enjoying the verbal foreplay as he kept his cocky lover-to-be on his no doubt sexy toes.

“That depends,” Nash sighed, tugging playfully at the hem of his lover’s T-shirt. “Can anyone see us?”

“I mean, we’re ten floors up. Nothing around but mountains and trees and this pretty boy undressing me with his big, brown eyes.”

Nash paused, the fabric halfway up Smart Guy’s smooth, toned abs. He’d been called a lot of things back home -- nerd, dweeb, spazz and much, much worse -- but never… pretty. Never, in a million years, pretty. “I’m here, you don’t… don’t have to butter me up anymore.” Try as he might to hide it, Nash’s tremulous voice reflected the years of rejection, insecurity, and unrequited attraction he’d never dared give voice to before.

Let alone act upon.

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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One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code! 


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