Will Okati - Elven Magic - Teaser

Elven Magic, Book 6

LGBTQ+ Paranormal Romance

Date Published: November 27, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

Wanted: wild, willing women eager to experience the exhilaration and enchantment of an Elven ménage!

Elven Enchantment: When Ciara decides to drown her sorrows at O’Dougal’s, she finds a hot floor show: Ardal and Seanan. The handsome couple welcomes her into their arms -- and their bed. But what will happen when Ciara discovers her new lovers aren’t human?

Elven Encounter: Sara’s not afraid to let her hair down. When twin opportunities to unleash her inner wild woman come roaring up to her house on motorcycles, she doesn’t want just Gent or Niall -- she wants them both.

Elven Escapades: Sergeant Elizabeth Hawkins’ friends Ciara and Sara have gone missing after being spotted in the company of a pair of gorgeous hunks. Then Killian and Roan invite Elizabeth to come out and play. These two Elves are ready to make the jailhouse rock…

Elven Exhilaration: Cullen’s everything Jewel’s ever fantasized about, and he’s interested in her. Wow! There’s just one problem. Cullen’s already attached. To Declan. Only that might not be a problem. Declan’s plenty willing to share…

Elven Enticement: Alyssia’s had it with being a good Elven girl. Poking a hole in the Veil that separates worlds, Alyssia makes her escape -- and stumbles head-first into Devin and Cam. Lucky for her, they know just what to do with a pretty Elven maid, and they’d bet their love she’ll like their plans…

Excerpt
Copyright ©2026 by Will Okati
Excerpt from Elven Enchantment

Days like this were enough to make a girl wish she batted for the other team.

Men! Ciara ignored the noise of the bar to pick at the label on her bottle of imported beer, shredding the edges with her short-clipped nails. No polish; just a thin coat of gloss. Most men weren't worth the spit to shine your shoes with. At least, not the men she'd had the misfortune to date.

Most recently, Paul.

She growled under her breath and tore off a strip of label. Men like Paul could drive a woman to drink. That -- that moron, Paul. Sweet as honey when they first met, but with a Madonna/whore complex to end all Madonna/whore complexes. He'd told her she had no imagination in bed, even that she was frigid, but she found out later that he'd been going straight from her to Hooker's Row every time they slept together.

Just today, she'd thrown the pictures the private detective had taken into Paul's face and told him to go fuck himself. Then she changed her number and headed to O'Dougal's, the best -- okay, the only -- Irish bar in her area.

It was St. Patrick's Day, and when better to pay the place a visit? She liked O'Dougal's, although it would never win any awards for class. All dark woods and dim light, with folk singers and occasionally a Celtic band. Things went on in that bar that wouldn't see the light of day in any other bar -- God, the hookups she'd watched -- but they always had a booth available for someone who needed it, and the best beer in bottles or on tap that she could want.

She took a sip and muffled a slight burp behind her hand. So she'd wanted a bottle tonight. Not as classy as a glass with a head of foam, but hey, what did she have to worry about with class? No one else here cared. She could sit in her corner booth in the near-dark, drink herself silly, and call a cab to take her home to her lonely bed. And that's just what she planned to do.

The Irish band tonight was on a break, quaffing down ale at the bar. The way they were going, she'd be surprised if they had the cognitive ability to go on halfway in tune. A rowdy little college-age gang, they had a nice enough hand with the fiddle and the bodhran. They were all too young for her, though, even if she had been looking.

Other people in the bar worth noticing? Well, there was a woman with long, curly blond hair, hanging on a nicely dressed man's arm. She was tottering on stiletto heels and wore more makeup than a trowel could shovel on, but he didn't seem to care. Ciara made a small disgusted noise. Probably like one of those ladies Paul had seemed to go after so much.

Two women sat at a table, eagerly discussing something. Looked like young businesswomen out for a night on the town. They'd flipped over the paper placemat and were scribbling frantic notes on it. Ciara watched them with interest. At least they seemed like they were having fun.

She was a people-watcher. Always had been. It served her well in her job as a secretary at the law firm. She could tell the good clients from the bad ones. Her bosses relied on her intuition.

Too bad that same savvy sucked when it came to dating.

She took another swig, finishing the bottle. Right on cue -- another reason she liked O'Dougal's -- the bartender waved at her and sent a perky little thing over with a second icy brew. Ciara passed her a five. After thought, she gave her a fifty -- what the hell? -- and said, "Keep 'em coming. When I can't count how many bottles are on the table, call me a cab."

"Man troubles, sweetie?" the barmaid said sympathetically. "Work got you down?"

Ciara sniffed into her sweet, sweet beer. "That rotten loser," she said miserably. "Why I ever trusted him…"

"Man troubles." The barmaid poked a pencil behind her ear and pocketed the fifty. She jerked her thumb back at the bar. "Not that I'd be interested while I was in your situation, but you should check out the floor show."

"I've been listening to the band."

The barmaid giggled. "Not the band." She pointed again. "Them."

Ciara followed her finger to a dark corner of the bar. Her mouth fell open a little. Two men, each one a hunk of the highest order, wrapped around each other like white on rice. Mouth to mouth, they kissed as if they'd eat each other alive starting from the lips and moving on down. Hands roved over backs and down to gorgeous, tight asses in leather pants.

"Whoa," she said faintly.

"Ain't that the truth?" The barmaid grinned. "Men get hot thinking about two women. So women get hot thinking about two men."

She wasn't wrong. Ciara could feel her nipples starting to pucker as she stared at the men. One light, long and lean, wearing eyeliner and a shirt halfway unbuttoned, showing off a ripped chest. The other taller and stockier, dark, with big hands that looked like they knew what they were doing. From the way Blondie humped against him, Ciara guessed that they did. Both men wore their hair long, sweeping their shoulders and blending together in a curtain of blond and black.

A shudder of excitement washed through her.

The barmaid grinned at her. "I just knew that would catch your eye."

Teaser - November 24th

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About the Author

A storyteller and a sewist, Will Okati has lived through a few Interesting Times but come out the other side ready to roll. Looking for them? Look for a keyboard or a vintage Singer. They'll be there. They're most often accompanied by their beloved pair of orange-flavored felines: Hobbit (toothless, sweet) and Onion (spicy, known to bounce off the literal ceiling in pursuit of a ladybug).

Will likes to say still waters run deeper than anyone knows, and life -- like storytelling -- is always a work in progress.

Will on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/daniel.will.okati

Will on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/willaokatiauthor/

Will on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16161.Willa_Okati

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

Pre-Order Today: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HPCHXPG9?th=1

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