Saturday, October 31, 2015

Purple Prose Gets a New Meaning

Meet Purple -

Screwed and Screwed Again (Box Set) by J. Hali SteeleApparently a customer who’d attended a convention in town had paid a visit to the Mons Venus the night before for some much needed diversion. He’d had his wallet lifted while watching some of the ladies pole dance. The wallet was full of traveler’s checks and credit cards, and Purp felt sure there would be pictures of the wife and kids. She figured he got what he deserved, but that wasn’t her call. The club’s manager didn’t want any trouble. He bought some time by promising the guy he’d take care of the problem. Dick interviewed the gentleman, if you could call him that. The guy remembered two people in particular. One description matched the bartender to a tee.

They were here to find out if Boy was the one with sticky fingers. Remembering the purpose of their visit, Purp decided a little spanking wouldn’t hurt anything, and might get the information they needed. Boy’s hard ass glowed in front of her. “Mount up, cowboy, and ride that pony.” She sent a firm swat to his tight ass.

“Hey!” Her handprint was plastered across his rump. Boy lathered Dick’s cock with lube and smeared some on Dick’s hands. “You have to get me ready to take all this cock.”

“Sweetie, this is just the beginning.” Purp delivered another rap to his butt. This time Boy didn’t protest. She wondered what it would feel like to have her ass full of cock. She’d never done that. Her anus clenched at the idea of it.

He backed up to his mount, and in no time at all Dick primed him with two fingers. Boy bucked and bounced, ready to be penetrated. Boy eased down on the erection beneath him. Purp let the bartender get comfortable in the saddle before she continued her punishment. Since she couldn’t reach his rear end, she tweaked his nipples hard.

“Damn, Purp, that feels good.” Okay, so it wasn’t punishment now. Boy rose up and down on Dick’s lap.

The chair beat a steady rhythm against the floorboards, so it took Purp a second to register the open door. A god stood in the doorway. Another blond. Her jaw dropped. True eye candy. Shit, could this be her day? Didn’t I lock that door?

She looked over at her jacket, which covered her pistol. Something made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Purp flexed her shoulders to throw off the odd sensation. Forgetting it, she turned back to Blondie. Eyes the color of the deep blue sea pierced her. A five o’clock shadow covered a strong jaw. A USDA prime choice man, and he looked her over from head to toe as she took him in at the same time. Oh, baby. A white dress shirt was opened enough to show a shadow of hair on his lean, muscled chest. A real honest-to-goodness blond.

The room went out of focus and everything shifted in slow motion. Purp grew dizzy peering into the blond god’s eyes, and wavered on her feet. He reached out to steady her. What the hell was that? The witchy stuff floated through her mind again. No way. But something about the man felt wrong.

He flashed a bright smile before his deep voice brushed over her. “Are you okay, pretty?”

Purp’s gaze continued down a ripped body that topped her by at least five inches. She licked her swollen lips as she thought about his thick thighs straining under her. And the front of his pants had a tough time holding a sizable package. His gaze left her and settled on Boy riding Dick. Damn. Sometimes life wasn’t fair, Purp thought, as she watched him watch the men.

Shaking it off, she pulled her attention back to the couple in the hot seat when she heard Dick grunt between clenched teeth, “I’m coming.” Shit, that was mine. Now she really wanted to smack Boy’s ass. Gathering herself, Purp looked back at the piece of eye candy near the door. “Can I help you?” she asked the stranger.

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

Saturday, September 12, 2015

Cruise with Satan's Sex Machines!

Phantom Lure 2
Captain

Available at Changeling Press

Ice water in his veins will boil over and burn.

Gentar Finway, a Phantom Lure from northern Europe, prefers Nordic weather and icy waters. Heading south to the Caribbean, captain of a cruise ship on its maiden voyage, his blood turns hot and his sexual desires mount when he touches his new chief officer, Salvatore Martino.

Each time Sal glances his way, Gent envisions turning him out. Yet it’s not what Gentar unearths beneath Salvatore’s strait-laced façade that brings his blood to a boil -- it’s the strength garnered from the most powerful Phantom alive!

Read more under Excerpt and Conversation tabs!

Excerpt:
“I know what you are.” Thomas sighed. “I’m also aware you can erase my memory, snatch away everything we’ve shared in seconds.”
“Ménages provide much more power.” Why didn’t he want that now?
“And I’ve enjoyed them with you.”
Lately, Tom’s possessiveness concerned him and he didn’t want to chance dealing with another problem on this voyage which is why he donned gloves. Yet he felt the need to touch Salvatore Martino so strongly he had removed one. “Why do I want him alone?” He recalled his encounter with Grange. Jesus, had Lucifer loosened his grip enough to allow Gentar… No. He definitely didn’t reek of the man as Grange and Conner had smelled of their human. He spun to face Thomas. “His eyes, the way he looked at me with such trust.”
A tap came at the door and Tom touched his cheek lightly. “It’s not like I’ll miss you.” Whiskey brown eyes pierced Gent. “Hell, I won’t even remember you, right?” A more insistent knock pulled his engineer to the door. He yanked it open and waved the young man in. “He’s waiting for you.” Tom brushed past Salvatore.
Bewildered by his insolent tone, he attempted to stop him. “Thomas.” He kept going. “Shit.” Caught off guard by his confusion, Gentar shook his head to clear it before walking to his bar. He grabbed a bottle of brandy and opened it. “Do you drink, Salvatore?” Up close, he was breathtaking. His skin, a sun kissed color enjoyed by those lucky enough to carry Mediterranean blood, taunted Gent whose fingers itched to touch him all over.
“A beer now and then.”
The liquid sloshed from the shot glass. “I find it calming.” Gent turned the tiny glass up and drained it. Pouring another, he passed it to Sal and this time he allowed his fingers to linger against his chief officer’s hand. “I do both dinner services which is why you see captain listed for each. Thomas is gay and will handle all meetings for the Friends of Dorothy.” Emerald’s Dawn Lady’s inaugural cruise had the honor of conveying a large contingent of gay men bound for a big celebration occurring in the town of Frisco on Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. An unusual destination to say the least but someone had paid dearly for a one-night layover. He eyed Sal nervously drink the shot of brandy before adding, “Your only job will be to see to my needs.”
“Sir?” Salvatore’s nose wrinkled.
“I magnified your senses. Tell me what you smell.”
“You. Sex. I’m not sure…”
“I’ve been in your mind.” They were both a couple inches over six feet so it was easy to lean into him and bite his earlobe. Salvatore’s slight build contradicted whipcord muscle covering his frame. “I want you to wear the earring you took out.”
“The company frowns on it as do most captains.”
“I’m not most captains.”
Sal tentatively touched his face. “I-Captain, I’m not sure what’s happening.”
“Say my name.” He wanted to hear it whispered from the man’s mouth.
“I’ve never wanted a man in my entire life.”
“So damn beautiful and so young.”
Sal snatched his hand away as if it burned. “I’m close to thirty.” Bristling at being called young lit a fire in his eyes that excited Gentar.
“Your eyes raked me thoroughly on the bridge and I think you liked what you saw.”
“You noticed that?”
He lied about not wanting a man. “Salvatore, I know your every thought.” He kissed his chief officer lightly, wanted so much more. The walls of his suite, which he had covered in copper to remind him of where he hailed from -- the fiery bowels of hell -- danced with sunlight glancing through the window. “I want to taste every inch of you.”
“What?”
“I am Phantom Lure.” Salvatore’s eyes stretched wide. “A monster straight from hell, and for the next two weeks you belong to me.”

Phantom Lure 1
Driver

Available at: Changeling Press  AllRomance  Amazon  B&N

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


Friday, August 21, 2015

Driver - Phantom Lure 1

Working on Captain, 2nd in the series and should be done in the next week. Look forward to lots of manlove on a cruise ship.

Driver, hurry, have me any way you want!

Phantom Lure 1
Driver

Paranormal Gay/Bisexual Romance, Voyeurism and Exhibitionism


He drives when the need arises; it's a ride Grange Stafford looks forward to, one that sustains his life force -- a ride that will end fulfilling every imagined carnal yearning.

The handsome man driving the bus on Roman Curt's route to work appears in an unrealized fantasy. What would his girlfriend think of his wanton desires? Roman envisions sharing more than her with the stranger whose intent green eyes observe him through the rear view mirror. Roman wants to be his lover too!

Read more under the Excerpt tab, and catch a bit of the next in the series under Conversation.


Excerpt:
     “Get over it.” Con walked behind the bar and reached for a bottle of merlot. “I’m the only one who knows for sure, but every Lure surmises you’re the reason for the curse. Hell, Grange, you are the oldest.” He uncorked the wine, filled his glass and smiled. “We’re not complaining.”
     Grange flopped onto the sofa. “Doesn’t it bother you we don’t really appreciate pussy?”
     “Speak for yourself.” Con sipped his drink, and the look Grange had surely imagined became one of pure lust. “Though there’s nothing in the world like a hard, tight ass around my cock.” He rounded the bar, rubbing the front of his slacks. “Shit, see what you’ve done.” He glanced at Grange’s crotch. “Dude, you are in serious fucking trouble.” He sniffed the air loudly. “And it’s not her I smell seeping from your pores.”
     “We covet both because he did.” Satan, the devil, the creature Grange called Lucifer, created him. He sighed. “I tried to go back.” The other Lures came after Grange attempted to return below out of loneliness. Luc left them all with a supernatural thirst for anything related to sex -- it sustained them, allowed them to control and keep humans at their beck and call. “Bastard wouldn’t relent.” Lucifer saw to it Phantoms were never sated. They always craved more, needed more…”I was so lonely for any affection, even his.”
     “Surprised he didn’t roast your ass like he did your boyfriend.”
     “He loved me once.” Grange’s voice was barely a whisper. “But not enough to even allow Phantoms to remain together without wanting to rip genitals off.”
     “You loved him as much as anyone could love the Goddamn devil.” Con shrugged. “He let you have me.”
     First, the look in Con’s eyes, now his voice sounded as if he yearned for something more. “And every day I wonder for how long?” What the hell was happening?
     “Grange, he’d have booted you out of the harem sooner or later. What pissed him off is you left of your own accord.”
     “Do you think it hurts badly?”
     “What?”
     “A broken heart.”
     “Unfuckingbelievable! You did not fall for a catch?”
     “I hadn’t even touched him, I only looked and the craving ravaged me, almost dropping me to my knees on the museum steps.” Air huffed from Grange’s lungs. “He’s still in my head, Con… Shit, I -- I don’t know.”
     “Anyone close by you can hook to test your theory?”
     “Meaning?”
     “If you’re caught, you won’t want anyone else. You’ll just wither away and…”
     “Vanish. I know, I know.” Grange stroked his chin and remembered the man downstairs. Mister Metro Sexual. “He probably waxes his entire body.”
     Con had slithered further into his mind. “Your preference for scruffy blue-collar types baffles me. That’s what comes of driving a damn bus.” He laughed as he removed his clothes and started to masturbate. “Personally, I prefer a man who cares for his body. Bring him on before I have a go at you.”
     Grange found the slight bend in Conner’s thick cock irresistible, and his dick did jerk at remembering how well the Lure could fuck him. Maybe he wasn’t lost yet. “I should suck you off first.”
     “Sounds wonderful, but let’s try your hairless catch.” Con’s penis head glistened as he continued to jack off.
     In five minutes, there was a knock and Grange was glad he’d touched the man after all. Snatching the door open, he invited his robe-wearing neighbor inside. “Riley, come in.”
     Grange left the door ajar.

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


Sunday, August 16, 2015

Sex Scenes abound...

At the 2015 Sex Scene Championships over at Scorching Book Reviews!

Find one from Can't Touch This there today. Hope you enjoy it. I'll throw in an extra one for you here:

     He chuckled. “I think I found your erogenous zone.”

     “Uh-uh.”
     “No?”
     “My neck.”
     He bent his head and touched her pulse with his tongue. “You taste good.”
     “Will you suck my blood?”
     “Jesus, you have a fucking thing for vampires or something?”
     “Yes. As a child I’d lie in the yard at night thinking a bat would swoop down and bite me so I could fly away.” Her words jolted another memory to the forefront of her mind and she smiled. “My mom called me her butterfly. She said someday someone would catch me in their net and clip my wings.” Her voice lowered. “It’s just one night, Cass.”
     “Uh-huh.”
     “And then?” What was it she wanted to hear?
     “Maybe I’ll suck your blood next time.” He tweaked a nipple. “Maybe you won’t want a next time.”
     Is that what he thought? God, they hadn’t really done anything but why couldn’t she let him finish, let him show her how to enjoy submissiveness and pain? Harlow needed domination. It made her feel safe, protected. Right now she wanted his thickness deep in her mouth. “Can I suck your cock?”

     Castle had made up his mind to release her from the constraints of what society viewed as normal. He damn near laughed aloud remembering there was nothing normal about him and his life. He was a shifter who enjoyed Dom/sub relationships. He had never stayed long with one person and he surely never felt this much for anyone so damn quickly.  What was it about Harlow?
     “You can do whatever you want to me as long as you like it.” He twisted her face to stare into her colorful eyes. “Your eyes fascinate me.”
     “Heterochromia or as my Pennsylvania license states–dic.”
     “Dick?”
     “D. I. C. Short for dichromatic. Just another thing in my life making me feel as if I were a freak of nature.”
     “You’re not a freak, Harlow.” What jackass had planted that idea in her head? Probably some young fucker she dated who had no idea what a jewel he held when he had Harlow. Making her understand what she desired was not only natural but also wonderful and beautiful wasn’t going to be easy.
     “You think you know me so well.” She pushed away and came to her knees. “What do I want right now?”
     “Dick.” Castle pushed her down between his legs and his hips bucked up when her tongue flicked the head of his penis. “Jesus.” The heat and moisture from her mouth surrounded his cock when she took him so deep, he felt the muscles in her throat constrict. “Shit, you do that well, darlin’.” When one hand grasped and twisted his nut sac, he growled and shoved hard into her mouth. Grabbing the back of her head, he coaxed her up and down his length going as far as she allowed. Her tongue wrapped around his shaft, controlled what she took, and he loved how she groaned sending tiny rumbles to his balls.
     Releasing him, she asked, “Can I do anything I want?”
     “Hell yes.” Cass paid little attention to the sound of the drawer opening beside him; all he thought about was getting every inch of penis back in her mouth. Harlow eased away and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Aww, honey, don’t stop.” Feeling a clamp lock onto one nut made him lean forward and look between his legs. Another snapped in place on his other ball. “Shit, you’re full of surprises.” She’d attached tiny electric clamps to his balls. When she hit the button, a surge of energy made him cry, “Goddamn!”
     Her mouth covered him again and he jammed as much prick in her throat as he could without choking her. Gripping her thick hair, he again helped her plunge up and down his shaft, and each time she came up, he felt an electric arc stab his nuts. “Fuckkkk me!” Her finger played with the control sending a series of shocks, along with her tongue, that took him close to the edge of exploding. But he wasn’t ready. “Stop. Bring those up here.”
     She obeyed immediately.
     Straddling him with his engorged cock poised at her entrance, she handed him the clips along with the control. Cass clamped one of her nipples, and then the other. Gazing at her, he watched desire darken her eyes. “You are so damn hot, Harlow.” He pushed the button and she slammed her ass down taking his entire dick in her pussy. “Fuck me, honey, fuck me hard.” Up and down, she took more each time her butt descended on him. She leaned over allowing him to lick her nipples, suck the pebbled buds and bite them. Every time he pushed the button, a shock zinged his wet lips making him arch and stab his penis inside her. “Baby, aww shit, Harli,” he mumbled against her breasts, ready to send a load of cum deep in her cunt. “Can you come for me?”
     “God, yes.” Her hips gyrated and he thumbed the button longer enjoying the tremors causing Harlow to clench his cock inside her and swivel her hips even more. She pressed her breasts to his chest and angled her body to allow her clit to receive stimulation as she rocked back and forth on his shaft. “Cass…unnhhh…hold me…oh-ooh, God!” Cream pushed from her with such force, he needed to abandon the controller and grasp her waist to remain seated in her vagina.
     “Ahh, shit yeah, coming in your pussy!” Castle exploded, sending a jet stream of cum far inside Harlow. “Take it, darlin’, take my seed.” He thrust up and down sending every drop into her. “Christ, you’re good,” he mumbled. Finished, he pulled her until she lay flat on his chest. “Jesus, Harli.”
     “Hmm,” she purred, her mouth pressed over his heart.
     He ran his fingers through her hair. “You okay?”
     “Very.” She rubbed her nose across his chest. “You smell great.”
     “Such a wonderful toy. Do you use it when you’re alone?” She hunched her shoulders. “I want to know everything about you.” His lips still tingled from the electric shocks as he raked a hand through her hair. “I want to know what makes you feel good.”
     “Really?”
     “Yes. Never be afraid of who you are or what you want.”
     “Like maybe I want more.”
     “We can try anything you desire.” He felt her head shake. “What?”
     “More of you, Cass, more of your time.”
     “As much as you need, darlin’.” Castle Briggs was fucked in more ways than one. He wanted more of Harlow and possibly all of her time. Feeling her heartbeat, he craved tasting her blood.
     Son of a fucking bitch—he felt like a goddamn vampire!

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

Friday, August 14, 2015

A call for a little Extra Cream?

Find some at All Romance Ebooks

With Extra Cream
Getting enough cream is a problem for this cat...
Jag Arizon had a plan to correct that. A jaguar from the Kind species, big cats infected with vampyre blood, he walks in both worlds. Aside from blood, he's addicted to cream and only one person can cure him. In convincing her to donate to his cause, Jag gets much more than he bargained for.

Barbara Dorsey, the uptight co-owner of the local coffee shop has all the cream this cat needs. But she's only giving it away in dreams to the one man who not only opens the door to her every desire -- he can change her world forever.


Hot Tin Roof
Leron Wilder is a jaguar of the Kind species, big cat shifters infected with vampyre blood. Nothing has gone right for Leron since his best friend Jag mated with the owner of the local coffee shop. Stuck training a new cat shifter who's a badass wannabe, Leron stops by the coffee shop to seek his ex-partner's advice.


Corinne Nelson loves her new home and her new job as a waitress at the Coffee Swirl, and she's really hoping she won't have to move on this time. Life's finally looking up -- until the hottest man she's ever met walks into the shop -- and licks her hand?

Mating is not something Leron is looking forward to. Yet the minute he tastes the new waitress, he knows he's in serious trouble. She's a flavor he could find addictive. But she's not who she says she is, and everything's falling apart around them. He's starting to feel like a cat on a hot tin roof... 


Cougar by the Tail
Trent Dallion is screwed. A wily little cougar has him by the balls -- and he can't get loose! Did she mean it when she thanked him for killing her brother? Or is she playing a game of cat and mouse, waiting for revenge?

Peri Montana tastes her destiny in the blood of the jaguar who took her diseased brother's life. Mountain born and bred, she wants nothing to do with the jungle cat who possesses more vampire abilities than she's comfortable with. Can she follow him into the hot desert night without losing her tail?





Zader Montana is Sovereign Kind, a mountain lion infected with vampyre blood. He refuses to embrace his undead half, the part of him that prowls the night looking for the she-wolf he desires. His problem -- she's mated to the alpha of the wolf pack sharing his mountaintop.

Skye wants a taste of the cat who trails her every night. Convincing her mate to let her have a bite won't be a big deal. The wolves are infected with the blood curse too, and they're not finicky. Skye's willing to be shared by both leaders as long as she gets what she wants.


All available at Changeling Press.

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

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Stone Lovin'

The Stonegars

Stone Cold and Stone Dead


Liquid Silver Books

Stone Cold
Trapped by a curse, Erac Dane has been stone cold and stone hard for twenty-five years. Erac has had to watch silently as other men pleasure the woman he desires, but no longer. With twenty-five years of frustration burning through him, Erac is going to finally have the woman he wants, and nothing and no one is going to stop him!

If she bumps my cock once more, I'll crumble.
He had spent years watching her, first from the sunroom, now in the backyard. Always there for her. Vena Waring had worn him down to nothing, and he had never even touched her. She hadn't been this upset for a long time and he wanted to beat the bastard who hurt her to a bloody pulp.
Erac Dane couldn't do anything. His helplessness was due to Vena's grandmother, Malvena Waring. She had been a cruel old bitch and he was glad when the witch died. At the time he didn't even care her death had brought pain to the young woman who sat at his feet and cried.
That had changed over the years. What he wouldn't give to make Vena his. Anything to touch her, take her the way he'd dreamed of so many nights. Thinking about it gained him nothing but an excruciating hard-on.
No matter, Malvena being alive wouldn't have changed his predicament one iota. Only Rekat could do that and he'd been absent too many years.
The sun eased toward the horizon in the western sky and a breeze stirred. It ruffled Vena's newly shorn, wheat colored locks. The bobbed hairstyle didn't suit her at all but Erac couldn't tell her that; hell, he couldn't say a single word.
She always followed the current fashion in everything—clothing, what pumps were in style—all of it. Many a night he'd listened to her on the phone with one friend or another chattering on about such things. He'd smile to himself at the way her brow quirked or her soft, luscious mouth curved into a beautiful smile, lighting up her face. Those lips could bring such pleasure to him.
Then there were the times when he called, like tonight. Erac wanted to throttle him for bringing shadows of sadness to her blue eyes. At the same time, he wanted to … shit, that wasn't going to happen.


Stone Dead
Join Etah Dane as she escapes her stone prison and sets out on a journey of vengeance. Fueled by rage and sexual desire, Etah's needs threaten to destroy everyone and everything in her path!

She was pissed off and had been pissed on for the last five days by the same soon-to-be-dead son of a bitch. Weren’t there any bathrooms in this godforsaken place? His alcohol-laced breath reached her on the breeze and if she could, she’d have vomited on his damn feet.
Etah Dane could see the town clock. In less than a half an hour it’d be over—the curse would be lifted and she’d be free. She needed release badly. Her life had been punctuated by dalliances with men and women, and right now her body shuddered inside her hard shell at the mere idea of sex.
To push the thought of physical release away, to abate the pain, she let her mind drift to the one man who had influenced her life the most. Thinking back, there was nothing she would have done differently.
At a young age, Etah had traveled alone back to the place she’d been born. She needed to know the man who was the closest thing to a father she would ever have.
Seeing him for the first time, he appeared kind and caring on the surface. Etah soon learned better. Though she’d never shared the information with anyone, discovering what he was affected her tremendously.
Night after night of watching his drunken debauchery, the meanness, Etah hated him. Afraid of becoming like him, she pushed the memory deep into the recess of her mind. She returned to Falmouth, Massachusetts, and tried to forget.
What she wanted to forget most was what he’d done to her.
Etah had been so naïve. The wall she wrapped around her heart became harder than the stone that covered her.
Sex for her kind was a way of life. It was beautiful and more than physical. Etah smothered that part of herself. Using it to assuage the pain, she wouldn’t allow feeling to enter into it. She wasn’t brutal like him unless she had to be, and though she mimicked his drinking alcohol, it didn’t affect her in the numbing way it did humans, but uncaring and unfeeling took on a whole new meaning.
Etah became what she feared most.
Like her creator, she was angry and mean.
Bong. Snatched back to the here and now, she saw there was only minutes left.
The creep in front of her with his cock hanging out was going to die.
Bong. Bong. Nine more. The second hand of the clock slowly inched its way around the gigantic face. Her heart beat matched each tick tock of the antique contraption.
Bong. Rock crumbled down her torso, freeing her upper body first. When shaped by her creator, Etah’s arms had been raised high, palms pressed together in prayer. She hated the sappy and pious pose.
Because of her crafted stance, she’d been passed from one parish church to the next until she ended up in a square near a cathedral in a tiny suburb of Philadelphia.
For the first time in twenty five years, she felt the wind in her waist length blonde hair, a warm, albeit urine scented, breeze buffeted her cheeks.
Free.
“Oh God, Mother of Mary, forgive me!” The man’s eyes were saucers in his head as he tilted his wine bottle and took the last swallow.



Thursday, July 30, 2015

The Dogs Are Loose!

Shepherd’s Watch: Controlled


Harm Germaine is an alpha in training who embraces his ability to be man or dog. Meeting his mate, who happens to be human, gives him second thoughts about what he is and finding a way to tell her causes the always-in-control alpha to lose control.

Elle Naylor’s caught his scent and can’t get it or Harm out of her mind. Strong and stubborn, Elle knows she’s found the one man who can make her life complete.


A stray shepherd, a series of accidental mishaps, and Harm becomes sure of one thing: Elle loves dogs! But will she love him when she finds out that’s exactly what he is?




Excerpt:
Hell wouldn’t have seemed like a bad proposition to the asshole lying in the stagnant, garbage-strewn water had he known he was dealing with monsters.
“Oh, God, please!” Boots scraped asphalt in the alley as the jerk tried to scoot away.
“Aww, hell no.” Looming over six feet tall, Court grabbed the miscreant’s shirt collar and shoved his face into the slimy puddle beside the dumpster. Straddling the bloodied man, he asked, “You did not just take the Lord’s name in vain?”
“Let him go, man.” Not only was Harm late checking in with a very important client, he was tired, hungry and cold. Changing, covering his body in fur, would solve the latter, but it was too late. Why did they have to run into this son-of-a-bitch manhandling his girlfriend? The woman silently huddled in the dimly lit corner of their apartment building. A few minutes earlier, a few later, this sordid situation would have gone unnoticed. “He’s a coward. I don’t think he’ll come back around here.” Harm strode over, took hold of the man and snatched him to his feet. “Am I right?”
“You can have the bitch, please, just let me go.”
“Jackass, you said one word too many.” Harm drew back and cold-cocked the bastard. Lifting him high, he told Court, “Open the dumpster. He can go out with tomorrow’s trash.” The unconscious body bumped loudly on the bottom where he’d be found in the morning by sanitation workers.
“Hey, stop, don’t put him in there!”
Turning in unison, the brothers gaped. Court spoke up. “Lady, your boyfriend was getting ready to seriously kick your ass.”
Belongings from her purse lay scattered on the pavement. Watching her stoop down to collect them, Harm’s head tilted quizzically. “Are you kidding?” She couldn’t possibly be upset at how they handled the creep.
“First off, he’s not my boyfriend. The dirty rotten sucker stole my wallet with my credit cards and money. It’s in his back pocket.” Straightening, she glared angrily in the direction of the trash container. “You arrived in time to prevent anything else.”
“Glad we could help.” Harm twisted toward Court. “Get the wallet.”
“You think I’m climbing into that stink hole?” Court’s hands dusted his still immaculate jacket, brushed at his pants and pinched the razor-sharp crease. “Brother, you’ve lost your goddamn mind.”
“Jesus Christ, get the wallet.”
“I’m not getting in there, Harm. No way.”
“Oh hell, both of you shut the fuck up.” Short legs ate up the distance from the wall to the dumpster. “And you’re both blasphemous idiots. Talk about taking the Lord’s name in vain. I’ll get it myself.”
Before Harm could move, she’d grabbed the container’s lip and hiked a luscious, petite body over the edge. His jaw dropped and he glared at Court. “She just jumped in the trash.”
“Good, because I wasn’t going in there.”
They spun toward the dumpster when they heard a loud smack. “Take my fucking wallet.” Another crack. “Teach your sorry ass some manners.”
Court chuckled. “Damn, she’s vicious. He’s lucky we came along.”
Harm stood rooted to the spot in disbelief. He liked this spitfire. His shepherd was on the prowl, pawing and panting. He liked her too! Sniffing loudly, he picked her scent from the stench wafting through the air. Sweet.
Thinking about getting to know her better caused his cock to swell and jerk in his pants. Slender fingers appeared on the edge and Harm took hold to help hoist the woman over the side. Feet had barely touched the ground before she pulled one hand free and pushed a wave of dark hair back. Lifting Harm’s other hand to her nose, she sniffed loudly. Fuck. Something a dog would do and the action yanked his cock to attention.
“His balls will hurt for a week.” Hearty male laughter bounced from the walls of the alley, putting a smug smile on her pretty face. “I was ready to kick his nuts to hell and back when you turned the corner.” Purse in hand, she walked away and glanced over her shoulder. It was as if Court didn’t exist when her eyes nailed Harm to the spot he stood in. “It’s good to know chivalry’s not dead.” She disappeared around the corner.
“What the fuck was that?” Court continued to laugh. “I believe she would have taken him out.”
Harm wanted to chase after her but his feet wouldn’t move. Watching her plump little ass twitch away stirred something raw and natural in his gut, causing his shepherd to react by immobilizing Harm in his path.
“Well I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch.” Court’s head fell back and he roared, laughing until he choked. “Your dog got you by the balls.”



Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Three Hellacious Sons of...

Satan!
HELLACIOUS

Slip beyond the gates of Hell!
Hellacious is a series of 3 short, irreverent, erotic, and funny novellas about triplets, all sons of Satan, whom are restless and looking for love.

Hellacious 3-Firstborn

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 a free read from the series here:


Excerpt:
“I -- you see, well… Damn it.” She was at a loss for words. Kinky jumped in her mind right beside ménage and all the crazy things she wanted to try with him. Who better than Satan’s son, right? After all, he couldn’t call her…
Oh, you are nasty, and I like it.
The chuckle he emitted rolled around and around in her head. It was nasty, and not something she wanted to divulge to the two women staring at her across the table.
Tell them you want me to smack that ass. Tell them you want to feel my devilish tongue in your pussy.
You know what? You tell them. She grinned, thinking herself safe sitting here with friends who had a tie to two of momma’s boys.
The stench of sulphur burned her nose and made her eyes water. She rubbed at them with a napkin, and when she looked up, there he was.
Pulling out the chair next to her, he sat down and stretched his long legs under the table where muscled thighs touched Lori’s. “Always good to see my brothers’ women.” His mischievous grin only improved his sex appeal.
Marcia waved him off. “Don’t start any shit, Wicked, I’ll call Slick.”
Wave nodded. “And Sly.”
“I’m wounded you think so little of me.” He turned his vibrant blue eyes on Lori. “Surely, you think better of me, lover?”
“I’m not your lover.” But, oh God, she wanted to be.
The room shook, rattling the glasses on the table. “You will be.”
Her cheeks grew warm, and she damn near whimpered when he flashed his charming smile in her direction.
“And I’ll do almost everything you want.” His hand touched her thigh beneath the table. “I’m sure you know not to use his name in the presence of any of us. Pops likes to be number one.”
“Go to hell.” Sweat dripped down Lori’s back.
“With you, any time.” He eased his hand between her legs. You’re wet.
The room and everyone in it stilled. Slick appeared behind Marci, and Sly plopped into the seat beside Wave. “I don’t know about Slick, but I’ll be damn if you’re going to terrorize my woman.”
“Slick, little brother, help me out here?”
“Hell no, Wick, Marci’s not comfortable with the way you’ve accosted her friend.”
“Accosted!”
Lori examined the fruity concoction in her glass, watching as condensation slipped down the side and formed a puddle on the table. It made her think of how a pearly drop might look easing over the crown of Wicked’s cock.
Look at me, damn it.
Her head snapped up.
Should I tell them about all your kinky fetishes, honey?
Wicked, please, don’t.
One night.
Then you’ll leave me alone?
He looked from one person to the other at the table before he spoke aloud. “After tonight, if Lori doesn’t want to be with me, I’ll leave her alone. Forever.”
The others at the table zeroed in on her and Marcia asked, “Lori, you okay with this?”
Unable to form words, she nodded. Wicked moved quietly in her psyche, mentally caressing her nipples. He kissed her neck and sucked her pulse until she couldn’t breathe. When she felt an imaginary finger slip into her vagina, she rocked forward on the chair. Please, not here.

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

Friday, July 24, 2015

Three people desiring an immoral climax.

Righteous

Three people desiring an immoral climax.

Every Sunday Jake Lester observes men in his congregation eye his fiancée, Dina Peters, when she walks to the front pew. One particular man, Carl Mercer, holds his attention. Jake envisions the black organist, pleasuring Dina, giving her something much larger than Jake ever could. Is it wrong to wish he could watch Carl touch and fill Dina, is it wrong to crave… Lord! Jake sported a hard-on so swollen it bumped the pulpit he hid behind as he preached the good word.

The righteous Reverend Jake Lester’s carnal yearnings didn’t lessen when he took his vows—they became stronger each time he denied them.

Could they each live out one fantasy…just one?

**Interracial ReligErotica ménage with first time Gay**

Available at All Romance Ebooks

Excerpt:
The baby grand piano was his favorite and he would never forget the one he had a woman spread-eagled on tonight. Dina was a tiny thing compared to him and he couldn’t wait to jam every thick inch of hardness inside her. First, shoot his load while Rev’s hand worked him so fine. Fuck, this is hot! Every sense became ignited by having Jake watch him eat Dina out, and it would be even better knowing he watched when Carl slammed in and out of her cunt.
Coming up for air, Carl growled, “Stroke it, Jake, make me come.” Damn if the Rev wasn’t giving him the best hand job he had ever experienced, and believe it, many women, as well as Carl himself, had jacked him off. “You know how to pump my cock, man.”
The Rev’s hand worked double time, so did Carl’s tongue. Dina squirmed against his face, gave him everything. “Aww, yeah, sweetheart, give me more,” he mumbled against swollen nether lips banging his mouth. When she screamed his name, told him she was coming, Carl was ready too. Cream seeped from her as ropes of hot cum jetted from his dick splattering the floor. “Oh, shit…shit…shit,” he mumbled. “I want you flat on your back so I can climb all up in this.” Carl returned to licking her crease taking every drop. Standing straight, he said, “Bedroom and damn fast, Rev.”
“Yes.” Jake stalked across the room in front of him and up the wide staircase.
Carl carried Dina with her legs wrapped around his waist, her face buried in his neck. The room was spacious and the bed, which he’d helped move in and assemble, was big enough for four people. Plopping her in the middle of it, Carl twisted to look at Jake. “This,” he tugged his dick, “Needs to be harder. Jack me off some more, Rev.” Carl didn’t fully evaluate his situation yet and why he wanted Jake’s hand wrapped back around his prick.
“Watch me make him hard for you, Dina.” Jake didn’t hesitate handling Carl’s junk one bit which spoke volumes.
What other things could happen between the men to make them both feel good? The thought had him jutting his hips back and forth not wanting to lose contact with Jake’s fingers. Damn, it felt fucking unbelievable. Carl studied Dina’s blue eyes as they took in his penis growing to full erection under her man’s ministrations. It pleased him to no end when she shuddered. “You’ll get every inch, sweetheart, as soon as Jake gets it hard enough.” 

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

Saturday, July 18, 2015

What's Wrong With Purple PRose?

Ask Richard E Rection and Peter Hard what they think about Purple P Rose from:

Screwed

An irreverent poke into the world of Women’s Erotica.
Purple P Rose is a brash private investigator. Her latest case has her visiting the city’s seediest nightspot, the Mons Venus, with partner and boyfriend, Richard E Rection. Their new case is full of surprises -- especially when Dick “discovers” he’s bisexual.

They are both unaware there’s a new and slightly sinister being in town -- Peter Hard, a vampyre who enjoys the taste of women and men alike. He’s chosen Purple to be his. Ready to claim her, he uses his powers to coerce Dick to bring him in as a partner.

Their lives will never be the same again.

We kinda doubt yours will, either.


One point of view… from Screwed

It was the crack of dawn. Purple P. Rose woke up with a hairy one in her face -- Boyd’s ass. Shit, had she had too much to drink? She couldn’t think straight. Everything was askew -- even the view out of her ritzy loft’s window. The trees appeared to bow and wave at her as she listened to the shower run in her bathroom.
What the hell had happened last night? Something about the new guy. She looked back at Boyd, who still slept peacefully. Purp gazed across the park and tried to remember. She did have some memories intact -- the worst being her partner Dick. She thought he’d gone soft. Maybe not. She shook her head to clear the clouds of confusion.
Richard E. Rection was a real son of a bitch known as Dick to his friends. Purp found she’d rather have no one else back her up in a tight spot. He’d done that last night. Warmth crept down her thighs as she turned over the pictures in her mind of what she could remember. She’d seen a new side of Dick. Flashes came to her in living color.
They’d checked out the club Mons Venus, a cheap strip joint on the Westside, as planned. The girls there were known to go all the way with customers. So, needless to say, the place stayed full.
Every nut-sac in town turned up at Mons Venus. Purp and Dick had met there last night to interview a bartender involved in their latest case. It wasn’t their usual type of job, but she’d taken it for the money. Car repairs had left her flat broke, and it was the first of the month, which came too fast lately.
Her real problem -- so did Dick.
Now she remembered. He’d been the first to interview the bartender in question. Dick then disappeared with him to a room behind the stage.
After he’d left, Purp ordered her second gin and tonic. She’d decided to enjoy the show. The girl on stage had hair the color of a magnificent western sunset. The bush between her thighs carried the same flaming color. Red knew the pole she used intimately. Purp’s panties were soon full of morning dew. But it was nighttime and she wanted to be full of something else. A hefty dick, a sliver of tongue, it didn’t matter. Anything would do the job right now.
A tremor of premonition lanced through her. She studied the other patrons. As she looked around, her eyes lit on a dark corner table. Someone stared back at her from the table there. She could make out the outline of a body. Male. Smoke wafted around him, obscuring his face. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and her pussy clenched on itself. Who was he and why was he watching her? It wasn’t the first time she’d had the feeling lately. Shit, just what she needed -- the witchy stuff following her around.
Purp shook it off and felt her side for the gun holstered there. The wave of raw lust that slammed into her left her weak. Between her thighs, her cunt pulsed. She went through life horny, but what hit her now was hell.
Dick hadn’t returned, so Purp went to find him. What she found didn’t shock her. Not much did nowadays. She’d opened the door to the room where she heard thumping and bumping inside, and found him in a big wingback chair with his pants around his ankles and the bartender’s face buried between his muscular Adonis-like thighs. Purp had never seen Dick in this light. Hmm.
“Purp --”


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