Date Published: 09-15-2026

Publisher: Oculus Print

ZOMBIE ZOO is Book 1 in a five-book middle grade adventure series for readers
ages 8-13, blending paranormal mystery, zombies, unlikely friendship, and
STEAM-powered problem-solving.

To find a cure, Felix must team up with Ninja, a shadow-dwelling orphan who
trusts her instincts and never backs down. Intense and razor-sharp, she
notices what others overlook and lives up to her name as the island’s most
mysterious sleuth. With their eccentric mentor Doc Brunne compromised and the
town’s water supply contaminated by a glowing bioluminescent substance, the
two mismatched investigators must combine scientific observation with sharp
intuition to stop the outbreak before their island home is devoured.

Featuring diverse protagonists, quirky humor, spooky-but-fun scares, and
strong female and male leads. ZOMBIE ZOO is ideal for reluctant readers and
fans of Max Brallier’s The Last Kids on Earth, B.B. Alston’s Amari and the
Night Brothers, and Goosebumps. Comprehensive educator resources-including
discussion guides, vocabulary lists, STEAM extension activities, and printable
maps-support classroom use, library programming, book clubs, and make this
title ideal for cross-curricular lessons bridging ELA, STEAM, and SEL.

About the Author

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LGBTQ Dark Fantasy Romance

Date Published: September 18, 2026

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.

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.

Author on Facebook

Thriller

Date Published: 11-01-2026

Publisher: Rowan Prose Publishing

But then Sam finds out Rebecca is dating Adam, a man she’d had an
intense relationship with two years ago. She vows to keep it a secret, lest it
sever their newly mended bond.

Sam soon realizes she can’t outrun her and Rebecca’s imperfect
past, nor can she ignore her and Adam’s desire for one another.

As Sam struggles between loyalty and lust, she realizes that vengeance can
make monsters out of all of us.

Prologue

Sam stared at the blood gleaming on the hardwood floor in front of her.
Someone was screaming beside her, but she couldn’t focus on anything
other than the blood’s impossibly bright color. It was garnet-colored
and aromatic–like a splash of copper-scented wine. Its beauty and
grotesqueness transfixed her, and her eyes blinked slowly and heavily as she
gazed at it. Concrete-heavy shock packed her muscles and froze her in place.

Her mouth moved, but the words stuck in her throat as she stared at the
corpse’s crimson neck. A knife stuck out of it, and blood smeared the
black handle. Sam blinked long and slow. Adrenaline began coursing through her
once again, and her muscles loosened, but shock held her mind in its sharp
claws.

Her eyes finally flicked to the fallen gun on the hardwood floor. Tears
gleamed in her eyes. She knew she was the one who had caused this mess. She
knew she had severed her relationships and created the target now on her back.

But vengeance was in control of her body now.

Her gaze scanned the blood-spattered murderer in front of her. Sam’s
heart thundered as reality slammed through her like buckshot.

This person had killed someone Sam loved.

Sam grabbed the gun and pointed it at the wide-eyed assailant.

Let justice be served.

 Jessica Clem is the author of the thriller, This Never Happened (coming
November 2026), and the horror novel In Lieu of Flowers (coming 2027), both
from Rowan Prose Publishing.

Her work has appeared in The Stygian Lepus Magazine, Creation Magazine, Dark
Harbor Magazine (now Macabre Magazine), Ms Magazine, Literally Stories, on the
Creepy Podcast’s Patreon page, and in the horror anthologies Down with
the Fallen from Franklin/Kerr Press, D is for Demons from Red Cape Publishing,
and After Dark from Rowan Prose Publishing. She is a 2026 Next Step Fund grant
recipient, a project made possible by the Metropolitan Regional Arts Council
through a grant from the McKnight Foundation.

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Date Published: September 18, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

Juniper — Getting dumped on my twenty-first birthday is bad enough. Finding
Brett, my ex, at Throttle with another woman turns humiliation into open
warfare. So I walk up to the biggest, meanest looking biker in the place,
climb into his lap, and claim him as mine. Inferno plays along a little too
well, and one reckless kiss becomes the hottest night of my life. Still, it
was just a one night stand. Should have ended then and there. Instead, my ex
decides he doesn’t like losing what he threw away. His calls become
threats, then the threats become violence. My bakery, my home, everything my
grandmother left me becomes a target. But Brett’s forgotten one thing.
I’m not alone anymore. I have Inferno, Kiss of Death, and a fire of my
own.

Inferno — Juniper lands in my lap wearing red lipstick, motorcycle boots, and
enough attitude to wake something in me I thought died years ago. She’s
way too young for me, and a woman running from a controlling ex is trouble. I
also know the second Brett puts a bruise on her skin, he becomes my problem. I
went to prison for nearly killing a man who hurt a woman I loved. I’ll
burn my life down before I let history repeat itself. But Juniper isn’t
looking for a savior. She wants a partner willing to stand beside her while
she fights back. Good thing I’ve always liked playing with fire.
Brett’s about to learn exactly why they call me Inferno.

WARNING: Adult language and situations, abuse, arson, and a violent stalker
ex-boyfriend.

Copyright ©2026 Marteeka Karland

Juniper

The sad little grocery store cake sitting on my counter summed up my life
right now. I made cakes for a living, so I knew exactly what I was looking at.
Shortening-based buttercream, whipped too fast so it held those little air
pockets that collapsed if you pressed a finger in. Red gel piping simply said
“Happy Birthday” and skipped my name entirely, because a name is
an upcharge, and, apparently, I wasn’t worth the extra four dollars.
Twenty-one candles would’ve cost more too. There were no candles.

That morning I’d spent six hours at my own shop building a dinosaur cake
for a five-year-old named Milo. The creation had hand-piped scales on a
fondant T-rex while his mom hovered by the register asking if I could make the
teeth “less scary, but still cool.” I believed, the whole time I
worked, that tonight would be mine. That somebody would finally build me
something special for my birthday.

I closed the shop two hours early. Cooked pork chops with the mustard cream
sauce that Brett loves so much. I set the good plates from his mother that I
was always terrified I’d chip.

He’d come in forty minutes late, jacket still buttoned like he
hadn’t decided if he was staying, studying his phone like it held the
secrets of the universe. “You would not believe this lake
listing,” he said, dropping into his chair, not even glancing my way.
“Guy wants two point one for a place that’s basically standing on
a septic field. I told him, I said, ‘Gary, I can sell water to a
drowning man, but I can’t sell delusion’.” He laughed at his
own line. I simply looked at him, trying to talk myself into being cheerful.

I cut into my chop and waited for a gap in his running monologue. “So I
made this dinosaur cake today,” I said, “for this kid, Milo, and
his mom wanted the teeth less scary but still –”

“Yeah, that reminds me, Gary’s brother-in-law does teeth,
actually, orthodontist, and get this –” and he was off again, and I
just… let him go on. Because why not? I picked my fork back up and took
a bite while he rambled on. He still hadn’t told me happy birthday.

His phone buzzed and he glanced down before turning it over. After a while, it
buzzed again.

“Hey,” I said, and I tried to keep it light, “We said no
phones tonight. Right?”

He didn’t answer right away as color swept his neck to his face and a
flash of annoyance crossed his features. Then he gave me a “sorry for
you” smile. “Junie,” he said, setting his fork down
carefully. “Can I say something, and I need you to just hear it, not
react to it?”

“Um, sure.” My stomach started to roll. I recognized his tone and
I knew this would be a twenty-first birthday I’d rather forget.

“You’re a lot,” he said, simply. “I don’t mean
that as an insult. You’re needy in a way you probably don’t even
realize. Phones-away requests, the whole birthday production, the plates.
It’s a lot of ask-for, given we’re barely even in a
relationship.” He cleared his throat. “And you’re emotional.
Everything’s a whole thing with you. I can’t mention anything
without you needing your turn.”

I opened my mouth but couldn’t form words. My throat tightened with
emotion, and I could feel tears forming behind my eyes.

“And I’ll be honest,” he continued, “because I think
you’d rather I was honest, you’re kind of boring, Junie. Same
shop, same recipes, same everything. Your five-year plan is a second oven. I
used to think that was cute, but I thought you’d grow out of it once you
ran out of money and got a real job. I don’t think it’s cute
anymore. I need a woman with a little ambition. I’m going places, and
you’re… not. Dinosaur cake? Really, Junie?”

Somewhere deep inside me, a voice was screaming, actually screaming, say
something, say anything, throw the water glass, throw a pork chop at him, ask
him who’s texting him at eight-fifteen on your birthday, and what came
out of my mouth, soft and stupid, was, “The pork chops are getting
cold.”

“Juniper. I think we both know this has been coming.”

I looked down at my plate so he wouldn’t see my eyes. I didn’t
trust what my face was doing. No way was I going to give him the satisfaction.
I forced the smallest shrug I could manage.

He pushed his chair back, slow and deliberate, like he wanted me to watch
every little thing. “Look, Junie, you’re a great girl. You really
are. But we’re just not… compatible.” He wiped his mouth
with his napkin. “It’s not the end of the world. You’ll land
on your feet. I mean, you already have your little cake shop, right?”

Wow. My little cake shop. The business I’d thrown every ounce of blood,
sweat, and tears I had into. The fact was, I cleared more with my
“little cake shop” than he made with his real estate ventures. I
suspected it was the same smarmy personality I initially fell for. Unlike me,
apparently his clients knew how to cut their losses and get the fuck out of
Dodge.

“I guess so,” I said, because what else was there? I stabbed a
piece of pork chop and chewed it, even though I could barely swallow, doing my
best to act as if none of this had any effect on me.

His phone buzzed again. He actually reached for it this time. “I’m
going to head out. I’ve got to call Gary back before he does something
stupid on that listing.” He didn’t even look at me. Just stood up,
fixed his jacket, and checked his hair in the microwave door reflection.
“I’ll send someone to get my stuff later.” The door clicked
shut behind him as he left.

I went to the counter where the little birthday cake rested when the sticker
on the side caught my attention. The damned thing was on clearance! He’d
bought me a generic birthday cake on clearance because it had passed its
freshness date.

For a minute I just stood there, stomach clenched tight in the heavy silence.
Anger was slow in coming. Even when it did the feeling was directed more at
myself than Brett. I chose to stay with him for whatever reason I had at any
given time. So as much as Brett was a bastard, this disastrous birthday was as
much my fault as it was his. I should never have agreed to let him move in
with me. My only excuse is I was young and bought all his flattering.

We’d been together for two and a half years. I was right out of high
school and just taking over my grandmother’s bakery after her sudden
death. Brett had helped me through one of the most difficult times in my life,
but I suspected now he’d taken up with me because I was an easy target.
After all, he’d been living rent-free in what had been my
grandmother’s apartment since a month or so after we met.

The window over the sink stared back at me. This was my twenty-first birthday,
Goddamnit! What did one do on their twenty-first birthday? Get schnozzled and
burn the world down. At least I’d burn down my old life. Then I could
rise like a phoenix from the ashes. Or something.

I pushed away from the sink and headed to my bedroom. Going to the closet, I
pulled out the red dress I’d bought especially for tonight. The red was
probably too bright, but I didn’t want subtle. I wanted the color and
all the lovely brightness and chaos it might cause under the right
circumstances.

I showered and did my hair and makeup before slipping the silky dress over my
head, letting it settle over my hips to brush against the middle of my thighs.
I zipped up the back, then smoothed the sleeveless garment over my curves. I
let my hand run down my arm, tracing the small, faded burn scars from my
childhood. Brett said I should get them lasered — so I wouldn’t be
reminded of my broken childhood. I suspected the real reason he wanted rid of
them was because they didn’t fit in with his image of what he wanted me
to be. Well, fuck that shit.

The red lipstick came last. Again, I’d chosen it specially to match the
dress. I drew it on slowly, even though my hand shook a little. Lipstick had
always been my armor. I had nicely shaped lips. They were my best feature, in
my opinion. The dramatic color only enhanced them. I smiled into the mirror,
wide and mean, red as a warning label.

I started to slide my feet into the Fuck Me heels I’d purchased —
again, specifically for this dress. Then I caught a glimpse of my motorcycle
boots. I’d bought them when Brett decided he wanted to get a motorcycle.
He’d taken me on exactly one ride, saying I didn’t know how to
ride with him and I would get us both killed if I moved the wrong way.
He’d never bothered to tell me what exactly I was doing wrong, so fuck
him anyway. On a whim, I stuffed my feet into the boots and took a look at
myself in the mirror. I didn’t quite look like Alice from Resident Evil,
but it was close enough I’d take it.

Throttle was less than a mile away. The bar was a known roughneck place, but
any damage caused by patrons always seemed to be contained to the property
itself and didn’t spill over into nearby neighborhoods. Though it had a
questionable reputation, I’d always wanted to go, thinking living on the
wild side held just the appeal I wanted.

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife
by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in
spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable
heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful
ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are
speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined
with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a
sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

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

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

Children’s Book

Date Published: September 14, 2026

With her beautiful deep-blue fur, bright eyes, and sweet fluffy face, Dea is
impossible to forget. But this curious little puppy has one special talent:
finding trouble wherever she goes!

Luckily, Dea has Rocky by her side. Together, they discover that being brave
doesn’t mean never feeling scared. Sometimes, true courage means slowing down,
being careful, and listening to those who love you.

But Dea’s adventures are only beginning…

Beyond the garden are new friends, mysterious places, and unexpected
surprises. And somewhere out there, a mysterious fox is watching.

Who is she? What does she want? And where will Dea’s curiosity take her next?

Dea will be back… so hold on tight! Her next adventure could be even more
exciting!

 Daniela Hristova arrived in the UK with an English vocabulary consisting of
little more than “teabag” and a background as a multi-media journalist,
actress, and singer who had spent years working in television, radio,
newspaper, and stage in her home country. With a diverse professional journey
that later ranged from wielding a mop to building a career in leadership and
court security, she has navigated life’s twists with a steady faith, a sharp
eye, and a wonderfully dry sense of humor. Channeling her unique experiences
and cultural blunders into the written word, she has penned a witty tribute to
the resilience it takes to start over. When she isn’t writing or tackling new
adventures, she enjoys spending time with her family and her dog, Dea. Fluent
in Faux Pas is her debut memoir.

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