Sunday, August 31, 2014

Wicked Sathariel is Firstborn

Hellacious 3 coming to Changeling Press September 5th (or Friday somewhere in the world!)

Firstborn-Hellacious 3

Hell is no place for a human…unless they’re dead!

Wicked Sathariel, the eldest son of Satan, has finally met his match, and at the oddest of times, she turns up in his head. Accustomed to having his father and siblings rummage through his mind, he can’t handle his woman seeing his hellacious thoughts. And when it becomes clear she’s heaven bound – all hell breaks loose!

Lori Thornton’s psychic ability is new, and never one to control her temper or her mouth, she often finds herself in bizarre predicaments. One such event is meeting Satan’s first-born and calling him a pretty boy. When his eyes fill with hellfire and he releases horns, talons, and the long, leathery, forked tail that swings treacherously toward her, Lori knows her life is about to spin deliciously out of control.

Find Satan's triplets in Hellacious 1 & 2 - Irreverent, funny, and sexy as...HELL! 


Excerpt:
Wicked remained a little annoyed about what she’d said about him on the beach the day Slick reacquainted himself with Marcia Carter. He lounged against his bar, keeping his hands in his pockets. “So I’m a freaking nutjob?”
He listened to the turmoil in Lori’s mind as she peered around his apartment, taking in the dark, masculine furniture, his guitar leaning against the amp by the tall mahogany stool he sat on when he played.
Unbelievable. “You play guitar?” She glanced at the wall between the loft’s two elevators. Brushing her fingers lightly over the strings, she asked, “Who painted the picture?” Lori caressed the neck of the instrument, sending a flare of passion to his crotch as he imagined her fingers squeezing his cock.
The Old Guitarist was his favorite painting and it is why he played. Wicked found it soothing to coerce sounds from it no one heard but him. He liked having total control over something in his life. “Unbelievable that I enjoy music?” He glanced at the painting. “It is a Picasso.” He shrugged. “Over the millennia I have gained some culture if only by osmosis, honey.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He strode to stand in front of her. “Tell me, sweet Lori, what did you mean?”
“It’s just…” Breath hitched noisily in her throat. “I didn’t think, oh hell, you know what I meant.”
“Tell me, I want to hear you say it.”
“I didn’t think the son of Lucifer would play an instrument, enjoy music and art, or -- or read a book.” She straightened her shoulders. “In fact, I didn’t think you’d be normal at all.”
“I am much more than the evil creature you believe me to be.”
Wicked hadn’t intended to kiss her so soon, he wanted Lori to get used to him. Eyes that rivaled his in their blueness stared at him. She ran a hand nervously through her neck-length blonde hair and her full lips quivered. The smell of her fear made him anxious, unsure. How could he make her understand he’d never, ever hurt her. “I’m going to kiss you.”
When she didn’t step back, he leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers. His hands were now clenched at his sides as he vowed not to touch any other part of her body. Wick knew her wide hips would be soft, her plump breasts would more than fill his palms, and her nipples, taut beneath her shirt, would be so damn sweet. Easing his tongue past her lips, he tasted her for the first time. His senses reeled at the exotic flavor of who she was. Her thoughts, her needs, tumbled headlong into his mind and blinded him with the light of goodness from her soul.
Snatching back, he gazed at her long and hard. “Hell’s sake, I didn’t expect you to be so fucking devout.” Especially knowing what she desired of him. No matter, he would take her tonight, make her his. He ran the tip of a finger around a bud. “Are they hard for me, Lori?”
“Wicked… I… please, don’t…”
“I will do nothing you have not dreamed of.”
“I didn’t realize you invaded my dreams.”
“I watched them.” He smiled. “I wanted your sleep to be peaceful.”
“You can do that?”
“I can do anything I want. I’ve been through your mind a hundred times since that first night.” Shoving hands back in his pockets so he wasn’t tempted to touch her again, he tilted his head. “You’ve been in mine also.” He still couldn’t fathom how that had happened. Probably his mother’s doing. “Have you seen anything terrible enough to condemn me for?” He felt her feeble attempt at reading him, but he’d closed that pathway for now aware another would only spring up. Damn Josette.
“No, but, unlike you, I haven’t seen everything. I know it’s there, I feel it.” She averted her eyes. “You are the devil.”
“I am his son.”
“Like father, like son.”
He moved to stare out the window of his loft. Lights shone brightly from the many high-rises surrounding his building. Looking up, he saw a myriad of stars, and one shot toward Earth in a solitary path. He remembered when he was a boy Josette told him shooting stars were angels falling to Earth. Wicked never believed it. They were pieces of dying planets or stars, nothing more. “Tell me what you feel right now?”
“I can’t.”
He turned to face her and rested his hips on the sill. “Yes, you can.”
“I want… damn it, Wicked, I want you.”
He grunted. “I know what you want, tell me something else, something I don’t know.”
“You know everything there is to know.”
“I don’t know why it took you so long to come to me.” He should have had her in his bed long ago.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve known since the first night we would be together.”
She stuttered, “I-I guess I did.”
“I scare you that much?”
“Yes.”
He walked to her. “Yet you envision me between your thighs.” He ran a finger over her lips and sighed. “I don’t want you afraid, and I won’t take you that way.” His body shimmered in and out of view. “You will stay here.”
“Don’t leave me!”
“You can’t stand to be with me, but you don’t want to be without me.”
“Wicked, I need time.”
“You’ve had enough, but I’ll give you a little more.” He vanished, heading below to visit with his father. Relax, honey, you got what you wanted. For now.

J. Hali Steele
Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Time for a Change

Let's see who'll read to the bottom...

I love the desert, but I was tired of looking at the same old pic on my blog. I miss it already! :(

Why did I choose parchment? Who the hell knows -- it matched the colors, and it's paper and, believe it or not, I still write on paper sometimes. A quick idea, a note about something that jumps in my mind while at
work or driving. Well I don't write while driving but for some reason the ideas fly like crazy when I am! I do wait until I pull over though, so the masses are safe. :)

My website is next? Any takers on redesign? Okay, never mind. It's eclectic, quirky, and so damn me. I could use a clean, easier to manage blogger or wordpress site - but I like my mess over there damn it!!

I finished another story about a week ago, Can't Touch This, and a bit is posted on my website. Haven't decided where or if I should submit it yet. The publishing industry is in such flux. What to do...what to do!?


It's Thursday, I didn't write a single word today aside from what's above and below, lmao. But I did accomplish something. The blog redo, some tweeting, and this:

Who got this far?

The 1st & 3rd comment gets a PDF of Screweda menage with m/m/f.

Come on, you want to read it. *smile*

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J.Hali Steele

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Healing Hell, Essentiants 1 is here!

Healing Hell
Today at Loose Id

Healing a hell creature… 
Ion Toso models and poses as a live mannequin. Weary of one-night stands, loneliness threatens to consume him until, while posing in an upscale department store window one evening he sees the perfect woman jump from a cab wearing a fake green flower on her lapel. His dormant body comes to life for the world to see. Once he finds her, convincing her to accept everything he is, even the part no one dares look at twice will not be easy. Ion is an Essentiant—an immortal creature who steals and devours souls of human vermin.

Sandy Brittingham hasn’t been out on a date for months yet pretending to enjoy another aimless blind date is intolerable. Unable to bear the thought of murmuring polite lies at the end of the night forces her to act recklessly. Before she’s seated, she snatches off the fake green flower she wore so the man would know her and tosses it into the trash. Sandy walks out the restaurant and unwittingly into the arms of a thief, but she’s not sure the model who rescues her isn’t worse.

Excerpt:
The group in front of the store grew larger. Ion had taken the assignment in Philly hoping it would break the monotony or at least add excitement to his boring day-to-day existence. He already knew it wasn’t going to work. Dres had been right; it was time to move on, do something more meaningful, and get away from the business of being pretty.
The snug underwear he wore for the show was damn uncomfortable. Did any man really wear tighty-whities? Hell, did they wear the brief in any color at all? Ion Toso’s eyes didn’t blink; his hands embraced chair arms as he leaned forward in a stiff pose. Shallow breaths prevented his bare chest from rising and falling, but a curl of hair stirred by air from the overhead vent feathered across his forehead. He would have used more glue to hold the wayward strand in place had he known about the air duct. Posing as a live mannequin, sitting, standing, stooping, doing those things for hours on end without flinching, bunching, or stretching a muscle created pains in places even he didn’t know existed, and Ion knew every part of his body intimately.
He hadn’t counted on the godforsaken strand of hair dancing on his forehead.
Ion avoided television and magazine layouts completely. Both afforded no way to mesmerize his audience. Oddly enough, this made him more sought after. Tonight, Dres, who also acted as his manager in public, waited in the dressing room. The faux job made it easier to lend supernatural abilities when the need arose.
Observing the people peering in the upscale store’s window, he ignored the wayward curl and thought about his new profession. Doctor was the obvious choice. It enabled him to do the deed without searching alleys for dying derelicts, murderers, or any kind of maniac posing a threat to society. Yet, as he told Dresdan in Los Angeles, it wasn’t his cup of tea.
The crowd of mostly women thinned. Some entered the store hoping to catch Ion up close and personal, others made their way into the fancy restaurant next door, and a few departed for what he guessed would be a quiet night at home. What might a lifetime with someone who truly loved him be like? He’d spent his entire existence in and out of one-night stands and short-lived relationships, which always left him seeking more.
Lately, Ion sought no one to slake his lust.
A yellow cab bumped the curb coming to a stop. The woman who exited leaned in the front window and gave the cabby a bill. Tires squealed as the driver lurched back into traffic.
Recklessness, warm weather, and a short, black skirt stretched across a plump ass caused something to happen for the first time in years while posing--Ion’s cock sprang to life. Impossible to conceal it, considering he wore only the name-brand brief. The world held ringside seats for the rise of Ion Toso’s dick. He thanked God for what little support the constricting underwear added to his pitiful situation.
Cameras flashed and fingers pointed when Ion closed his legs in an attempt to hide his predicament. He had not moved on assignment since the early days. As a live mannequin, unlike a model on the catwalk, he worked with smaller crowds so he didn’t need stringent mind control. Tonight, he lost power over the throng and was sure, with modern technology, pictures and videos already flooded social media like a storm. Unfuckingbelievable! Another round of queries regarding his real age would simultaneously bombard the airwaves.
Attention drawn by the hubbub, the woman turned and looked. Red lips curved into a smile, which distracted Ion from awful thoughts for a bit. Blonde hair curled just above her collar, and a low-cut white camisole held generous mounds peeking from the top. The fake green flower pinned to her jacket lapel marred an otherwise perfect picture. Pivoting on at least five-inch heels, she sashayed away. What a sweet ass! Ion didn’t have to look to know a drop of precum left a wet spot front and center of the snug white underwear.
In one tiny moment, internationally famous model and poser Ion Toso tumbled from his public throne.
A quick glance at the clock placed out of sight beneath the window ledge let Ion know he had ten minutes remaining. He wasn’t going to make it. Damn, growing complacent and lax, he had not taken sustenance, which would have given him more power to control the small crowd and avoid the awkward situation.
Standing, he twisted and bumped the plastic female mannequin in white lacy underwear behind him, sending it flying with a crash through the curtain. Jumping from the rise, he ignored murmurs and smirks from workers unpacking merchandise, and walked quickly down the hall. Not wishing to run into someone in the elevator, he took the stairs down to where the dressing room provided for his privacy was located.
When he entered the room, his best friend peered at his watch, set his coffee down, and stared at him. “You okay? It’s only ten till nine.” Giving Ion the once-over, Dresdan Mati burst out laughing. “I’ll be damned, you’re sporting wood.” He continued to peruse Ion’s body. “Christ, did you come in your panties?”
“Shut the hell up. They’re briefs.”


J. Hali Steele
Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.

www.jhalisteele.com

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Cover Reveal

Healing Hell coming August 26th to Loose Id.
Awesome cover by Scott Carpenter - Thanks! I love it.

Ion Toso models and poses as a live mannequin. Weary of one-night stands, loneliness threatens to consume him until, while posing in an upscale department store window one evening he sees the perfect woman jump from a cab wearing a fake green flower on her lapel. His dormant body comes to life for the world to see. Once he finds her, convincing her to accept everything he is, even the part no one dares look at twice will not be easy. Ion is an Essentiant--an immortal creature who steals and devours souls of human vermin.

Sandy Brittingham hasn't been out on a date for months yet pretending to enjoy another aimless blind date is intolerable. Unable to bear the thought of murmuring polite lies at the end of the night forces her to act recklessly. Before she's seated, she snatches off the fake green flower she wore so the man would know her and tosses it into the trash. Sandy walks out the restaurant and unwittingly into the arms of a thief, but she's not sure the model who rescues her isn't worse.


Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.
J. Hali Steele

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Hellacious 2 - Slick

Slick (Hellacious 2)
Available now at ARe and Changeling Press

How to win a hellacious heart? With humor, and imagination…and some sex of course!

Marcia Carter spent an hour in a handsome stranger's arms and she's regretted it every day since. Now she's available, and the blue-eyed devil is pursuing her, but Marci is not about to share her millions, or her body, with another poor bastard. Yet getting him out of her mind won't be easy. Maybe one more time, one night...

Slick Sathariel is Satan’s third born, the youngest triplet. He keeps the peace and makes everyone happy but himself. Not anymore.

His body plunged out the elevator doors, and they slammed shut. The young demon at the desk looked up in surprise. “Sir?”
“I’m good.” Trying to appear in control, he walked to the stairway where he yanked the door open, and vanished to his apartment.
“You’re back so soon?” Wick held a beer, and Sly sat across from him in Slick’s favorite chair in front of the window.
“You motherfuckers have lost your minds.” The seat Sly rested in violently tilted, tossing his brother across the room and into the wall. Turning to Wicked, he mentally flipped the beer Wick held upside down, pouring the frosty liquid into his lap.
He jumped up, glared at Slick and burst out laughing. “Well, I’ll be damned, you do have a set of balls.” Waving his hand, he donned another pair of slacks. He turned to watch Sly right the chair. He wore a smile. “Can you believe little bro?”
“Love does funny shit to a person.”
Wicked twisted toward him. “Just don’t let this show of power go to your head.”
Slick huffed out a lungful of air. “Why, man, why?”
“Why what?”
“Don’t play with me, this is the wrong time.”
“You think you have a chance with her?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“And if he comes back?”
“She says she’s over him.” Damn, when he’d asked if she was sure, Marcia had changed the subject.
“And don’t be like Sly, making a promise to stay out of her mind.”
“I won’t need to read her mind. I can win her without that bullshit.”
“Right, right.” Wick’s laughter dripped with sarcasm.
“I’m not going to delve into her psyche and root around like you would.”
“What the fuck is it with you two?” He shook his head. “Women are most adept at telling lies.”
“Whoa, man, don’t bundle all women in a group like that. Wave would never lie.” Sly glared at their eldest brother.
Wick pulled another frosty beer out of thin air, and sat back down in the same, magically dry, spot. “Your woman is different, she has,” he glanced skyward, “ties above, she can’t lie.”
“She wouldn’t lie if she didn’t have a heavenly connection.”
Slick needed to stop this before it got out of hand. After the last altercation between his two older brothers, he’d spent more time than he cared fixing his place. “Could you two take this somewhere else?”
Wicked spun on him. “Fuck off.”
“Fuck off? This is my place. Skedaddle your ass to the fourteenth floor where you can do as you please.”
“Skedaddle. What the hell kind of word is that?” Sly laughed.
Wick wasn’t done. “You really think Waverly wouldn’t lie to you if she could get away with it?”
“Hell’s sake, Wick, let it go.” Slick was thrown against the wall, and held pinned there. “What the…”
“Answer me, Sly.”
“Bro, I don’t know what your problem is, but it’s not with Slick, let him go.”
“You gonna make me?”
Heat in the apartment blossomed a hundred degrees, and they groaned in unison knowing what was coming. Slick fell to the floor as it split open. The flames licked through the space followed by Lucifer’s forked tail. Flapping around, it destroyed every piece of furniture in the room before it wrapped around the triplets and yanked them through the flaming abyss, and below.
Slick brushed at the embers on his pants. “I didn’t start this shit. Wick was in my apartment playing games.”
“What is happening to each of you?”
“Each of you?” Wick flopped into a chair and eyed Sly. “I’m not the one pussy-whipped.” Turning toward Slick, he added, “Or the one trying to wrangle a piece of ass.”
“Wicked, what did crawl up your ass and die?”
Slick thought, for a change, he might come out of this unscathed.
“What the fuck do you mean?”
Holy shit! Slick watched as his brother’s lips snapped shut forming a solid line, and his cheeks puffed out. His older brother’s eyes turned red with fury, and horns sprouted only to melt into his hair.
“Don’t you dare come into my house and act like you own it. I’m not your brother, and I will whip your ass from here to kingdom come and back.” He and Sly watched silently as Satan’s horns pulled back in his head, followed by the talons disappearing, and the tail flipping out of sight. “He twisted and dropped onto his throne. “Christ, I’m tired.”
A bolt of lightning blasted through the wall and wedged there. All eyes watched it wage war with the stone holding it. The shaft shook left, right, and then slid forward another foot.
Josette appeared from a white mist and stood, her back to the jagged bolt. “Lucifer, say you’re sorry.”
“The hell I will.”
“Lucifer…”
“For crying out loud, I’m sorry, okay.”
The bolt slid back through the wall and shook the earth as it left Hell and traveled heavenward.

Available Changeling Press and ARe

Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.

J Hali Steele

Friday, August 15, 2014

The Essentiants are coming...soon!

I am dying to see the first cover in the series!

Healing Hell
Coming to Loose Id August 26, 2014

Healing a hell creature…

Ion Toso models and poses as a live mannequin. Weary of one-night stands, loneliness threatens to consume him until, while posing in an upscale department store window one evening he sees the perfect woman jump from a cab wearing a fake green flower on her lapel. His dormant body comes to life for the world to see. Once he finds her, convincing her to accept everything he is, even the part no one dares look at twice will not be easy. Ion is an Essentiant—an immortal creature who steals and devours souls of human vermin.

Sandy Brittingham hasn’t been out on a date for months yet pretending to enjoy another aimless blind date is intolerable. Unable to bear the thought of murmuring polite lies at the end of the night forces her to act recklessly. Before she’s seated, she snatches off the fake green flower she wore so the man would know her and tosses it into the trash. Sandy walks out the restaurant and unwittingly into the arms of a thief, but she’s not sure the model who rescues her isn’t worse.

Excerpt:
The group in front of the store grew larger. Ion had taken the assignment in Philly hoping it would break the monotony or at least add excitement to his boring day-to-day existence. He already knew it wasn’t going to work. Dres had been right; it was time to move on, do something more meaningful, and get away from the business of being pretty.
The snug underwear he wore for the show was damn uncomfortable. Did any man really wear tighty-whities? Hell, did they wear the brief in any color at all? Ion Toso’s eyes didn’t blink; his hands embraced chair arms as he leaned forward in a stiff pose. Shallow breaths prevented his bare chest from rising and falling, but a curl of hair stirred by air from the overhead vent feathered across his forehead. He would have used more glue to hold the wayward strand in place had he known about the air duct. Posing as a live mannequin, sitting, standing, stooping, doing those things for hours on end without flinching, bunching, or stretching a muscle created pains in places even he didn’t know existed, and Ion knew every part of his body intimately.
He hadn’t counted on the godforsaken strand of hair dancing on his forehead.
Ion avoided television and magazine layouts completely. Both afforded no way to mesmerize his audience. Oddly enough, this made him more sought after. Tonight, Dres, who also acted as his manager in public, waited in the dressing room. The faux job made it easier to lend supernatural abilities when the need arose.
Observing the people peering in the upscale store’s window, he ignored the wayward curl and thought about his new profession. Doctor was the obvious choice. It enabled him to do the deed without searching alleys for dying derelicts, murderers, or any kind of maniac posing a threat to society. Yet, as he told Dresdan in Los Angeles, it wasn’t his cup of tea.
The crowd of mostly women thinned. Some entered the store hoping to catch Ion up close and personal, others made their way into the fancy restaurant next door, and a few departed for what he guessed would be a quiet night at home. What might a lifetime with someone who truly loved him be like? He’d spent his entire existence in and out of one-night stands and short-lived relationships, which always left him seeking more.
Lately, Ion sought no one to slake his lust.
A yellow cab bumped the curb coming to a stop. The woman who exited leaned in the front window and gave the cabby a bill. Tires squealed as the driver lurched back into traffic.
Recklessness, warm weather, and a short, black skirt stretched across a plump ass caused something to happen for the first time in years while posing--Ion’s cock sprang to life. Impossible to conceal it, considering he wore only the name-brand brief. The world held ringside seats for the rise of Ion Toso’s dick. He thanked God for what little support the constricting underwear added to his pitiful situation.
Cameras flashed and fingers pointed when Ion closed his legs in an attempt to hide his predicament. He had not moved on assignment since the early days. As a live mannequin, unlike a model on the catwalk, he worked with smaller crowds so he didn’t need stringent mind control. Tonight, he lost power over the throng and was sure, with modern technology, pictures and videos already flooded social media like a storm. Unfuckingbelievable! Another round of queries regarding his real age would simultaneously bombard the airwaves.
Attention drawn by the hubbub, the woman turned and looked. Red lips curved into a smile, which distracted Ion from awful thoughts for a bit. Blonde hair curled just above her collar, and a low-cut white camisole held generous mounds peeking from the top. The fake green flower pinned to her jacket lapel marred an otherwise perfect picture. Pivoting on at least five-inch heels, she sashayed away. What a sweet ass! Ion didn’t have to look to know a drop of precum left a wet spot front and center of the snug white underwear.
In one tiny moment, internationally famous model and poser Ion Toso tumbled from his public throne.
A quick glance at the clock placed out of sight beneath the window ledge let Ion know he had ten minutes remaining. He wasn’t going to make it. Damn, growing complacent and lax, he had not taken sustenance, which would have given him more power to control the small crowd and avoid the awkward situation.
Standing, he twisted and bumped the plastic female mannequin in white lacy underwear behind him, sending it flying with a crash through the curtain. Jumping from the rise, he ignored murmurs and smirks from workers unpacking merchandise, and walked quickly down the hall. Not wishing to run into someone in the elevator, he took the stairs down to where the dressing room provided for his privacy was located.
When he entered the room, his best friend peered at his watch, set his coffee down, and stared at him. “You okay? It’s only ten till nine.” Giving Ion the once-over, Dresdan Mati burst out laughing. “I’ll be damned, you’re sporting wood.” He continued to peruse Ion’s body. “Christ, did you come in your panties?”
“Shut the hell up. They’re briefs.”


J. Hali Steele
Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Sex Scene Championship 2014

I'm playing! Don't miss it - starts tomorrow at Scorching Book Reviews. Turn up the air conditioning, grab a cool drink, then stop by!

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.

J. Hali Steele