Gravedancer Teaser #rabtbooktours

LGBTQ Dark Fantasy Romance

Date Published: September 18, 2026

For lovers 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.

Dorian Morrow 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.

 

EXCERPT

 

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.”

 

About the Author

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

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

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

 

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The Duke's Runaway Omega Teaser #rabtbooktours

LGBTQ+ Historical Romance, MPreg, Mystery & Suspense

Date Published: August 14, 2026

 

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

 

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.

 

 

About 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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