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.”
August 26th @ at http://www.loose-id.com/healing-hell.html
J. Hali Steele
Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.
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