Sunday, May 31, 2015

Walk With One Sexy Vampire...

Available at Changeling Press
Through four short stories - Box Set!

Nolan is created in Heaven THIRSTY
He rains havoc on earth when he finds A THIRST TO DIE FOR
Journeys back to Hell to battle his BANE OF EXISTENCE
He goes home with A VAMPIRE'S THIRST to one angel
who will never let him go!

THIRSTY: Monique has finally found a place where she can live out her fantasies. Little does she know the den of iniquity she's walked into is more than just a theme club. Omen's is the playground for every type of monster in the world.

A THIRST TO DIE FOR: When Nolan gives life to Amanda's carnal fantasies, his own life changes. Hell is coming to pay him a visit, and he's about to lose control.

BANE OF EXISTENCE: One night spent in a human woman's arms brought Bane, a son of Satan, as close to heaven as he'll ever get. Now the only way he can have Iris is to convince her she wants him as much as he needs her.

A VAMPIRE'S THIRST: Once Nolan gave all souls moderation in everything. He was good at his job, and he called heaven home -- until he fucked the wrong seraphim! Now he's a vampire slayer serving the devil, keeping an eye on Omen's, and babysitting Lucifer's son. Not a job he expected to hold for damn near eight hundred years...
Praise for Bane of Existence
"J. Hali Steele takes the reader to Hell and brings along Heaven’s Vampire to exact revenge on the son of Satan. A human woman is sandwiched between them as their dark sexual past is revealed to the reader." -- 4 Stars from Candy,Sensual Reads

Praise for A Vampire's Thirst
"Very entertaining and kept me interested while I turned each page. I laughed and giggled at some of the book. Give it a chance, it is a quick read and go ahead and enjoy yourself!"-- 4 Stars from Barb, Drue's Random Chatter Reviews

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

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Dirty Rotten Vampires

Hold Me Hard
Dirty Rotten Vampires 3

Vigier Stone fought tirelessly for supremacy of his kind as a member of the vampire council. After betrayal by a few, Vig goes to war again -- this time against demons seeking power and threatening destruction of all half-breeds including the one he desires. The demi-vamp has captured his heart and soul, creating an out-of-control master hell-bent on annihilating anything that dares keep her from him.

Kiwi breathed deeply, savoring the scent that caused her sister to scurry away. Could he breach Split’s spell and enter the apartment?
Come to me. Vigier’s voice in Kiwi’s mind was balm to her soul.
VigI… Why did she hesitate when she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, in his bed? Had Tang’s words made an impression?
That was not a request.
Ki answered his command by transporting to the plush bedroom where Vig awaited her arrival. “I’m here.”
“Take your clothes off.”
* * *
Vigier hungered for Kiwi, and waiting for the vampires to leave his residence stretched nerves already rattled by her grandfather. His essence had hovered above The Cemetery, permitting snatches of conversation with Tang to reach his ears. Vig wanted to snap his fingers and send the scalding bitch on her way but his powers couldn’t invade Split’s voodoo-laced safeguards. Vowing to dig deeper into his friend’s mind to discover how he fabricated the intricate web that barred him from entering the abode beneath the club, he realized Tangerine had evidenced his nearness and departed, Vigier called Kiwi to him. Come to me.
He couldn’t enter, but she could leave.
Ki’s indecisiveness bothered him, but when she materialized in his bedroom and her scent filled the space, Vig sucked air nosily into his lungs as though he could take her inside himself, hold her there forever. Impatiently, he waited for her to cross the room to the chair he sat in. Ki’s nipples hardened, peeking through her bra and the thin top covering it while jeans encased her ass and long, shapely legs. Vig took this all in as she neared and his fingers itched to run through her short, almost black, unruly curls as Ki wedged between his legs.
“No magic.”
“If I wish it.” He wore only black slacks. “Remove one piece at a time.” His breathing escalated as Ki lifted the hem of her shirt and inched it up and over golden, lace-enveloped breasts. “Stop.” Vig leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her navel. An athletically toned body and soft, perfumed skin beckoned him to explore the tiny indentation. His tongue jabbed in and out, mimicking what he’d do to her with his cock. “Do you want me?”
“Yes.” She relinquished her hold on the shirt and pushed fingers through his hair. “You cut it.”
Vig grasped her ass and clenched his thighs, capturing Ki between them. “It got in the way.” He ran his tongue in circles around her belly button where, afterward, he laid his head and savored the warmth for a moment. “And you wished it.”
“You look like a petulant boy.”
Licking a path to her bra, Vig used fangs to rip the material, enjoying the way it made Ki tremble. “Is that why you blushed?”
“I blushed knowing what you’d do to me.”
“Will you like it?” He yanked the lacy material, dragging her down.
He swatted her ass hard. “Who?”
“Vigier, oh Jesus, Vig.”
“This is mine.” He shoved one hand between her legs and took great pleasure in the damp heat found in the seat of her pants. Sex always brought out Kiwi’s demon side, making her hot and wet. Vig rubbed his face against her stomach, wallowing in the heat she generated for as long as he could stand it. “Take off your shirt.”
Ki straightened and finished removing the top. “My bra?”
He watched as her nipples peaked even more in the coolness of the room. “Damn, you’re beautiful.” Vig reached up and tugged a bud roughly before rolling it between his thumb and finger. “So hot.”
“You make me hot.”
“Bend down.”
She leaned over and he grasped the nipple he’d pinched in his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Licking and teasing the nub until it grew tauter, if that was possible, he then nipped it with a fang. “I need to taste you.” Vig gripped her ass before savagely biting just above her left breast. A new flavor permeated Ki’s blood, which scalded his throat as it plummeted into his stomach. As if it were molten lava, it erupted violently and quickly made way into his parched veins, filling them with a tingling sensation.
“Oh God!” Ki cried, reaching behind his head and holding him to her.
As long fangs continued to draw from her heart, Vigier reveled not only in delivering pain Ki delightfully enjoyed, but also in the new, mesmerizing taste of nourishment she provided. He forced himself to stop. “Delicious.” Closing the tiny holes with saliva, he glanced up to see red swirl through the violet eyes scrutinizing him.

Find a free read, Not the Garden of Eden, at Changeling Press Encounters

Series at most ebook outlets:
Hold Me Hard, DRV 3Read more
Love Me Madly, DRV 2Read more
Hurt Me Good, DRV 1Read more

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

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Hurt Me Good

Dirty Rotten Vampires 1
Hurt Me Good

A cold heart plus hot blood sweetens the pain.

Barringer Ganteau has hunted enough demon-mixed vampires to last a million lifetimes. His wish is to see all demi-vamps maimed, preferably dead. Single-handedly, he attempts to vanquish the scourge of mixed breeds from the face of the earth. Then Ringer meets Armada, a demi-vamp with the power to deliver the kind of pain he desires and melt his frozen heart.

Armada comes from Haiti, carrying the exotic heat of the islands and her kind with her. When she faces a cold-hearted vampire, a being superior to her mixed heritage, she vows to hate him as much as he hates her. Armada hadn’t reckoned with the vamp’s ability to use pain to bring out a side of her she had not known existed.

She’d only learned about the demon blood a few months ago. Hell, she didn’t want to sprout horns or grow a tail. She had witnessed firsthand what a diseased demi-vamp looked like when she hunted with Split. The ragged teeth and yellow skin made her sick.
“Guess I’m not the only one in the room who kills demi-vamps.”
She spun to catch him watching her from the doorway. “Fuck you.”
“Oooh! Go to hell.”
“A place more suitable to your kind.” Armada didn’t grasp the meaning of his glare. Ringer’s voice grew softer. “Come eat, I cooked.”
“Why when you could fabricate it.”
“Because I like to cook and fabricated doesn’t taste as good.”
“Probably tastes like shit.”
Red circled his violet eyes. She understood that look having seen it often when Split became irritated. “You can let me know; I’ve never tasted shit.” She reached for a vase on the table and lifted it to hurl at his head. “Can you afford to replace that? I will take it out in trade.”
“God, I hate you.”
“Living with me is easier once you understand my rules.”
“I’m not living with you.”
“Yeah, you are.” He strode to stand beside her seat. “One, don’t throw my shit around; two, eat what I cook or fabricate your own shit.” He wrapped a curl of her hair around his finger. “Three, when we fuck, we do it my way or not at all.”
Standing, she walked past him and turned. “I like not at all.”
“Honey, you’ll be in my bed by nightfall.”
He walked to where she stood. “Linen closet is at the top of the stairs. You’ll need bedclothes for the sofa.”
“You only have one bedroom?” She glanced around the space for the first time. Expensive antiques dotted shiny plank wood floors. The furniture was masculine and in a mix of dark chocolate and red hues. Large windows remained bare of curtains. Probably a voyeuristic jackass. The living room was large and bright. Good thing there was no truth to the fact vampires could only move around at night. Sunlight streamed in the window. “One bedroom?” From the floor plan, she knew upstairs held more than a single room, unless, of course, it was a damn large room.
He laughed and looked over his shoulder. “Only one you can enter.”
“Hope you like baked chicken.” He grinned. “With lots of garlic.”
“I’ll fix a salad.”
She reached the kitchen in time to see him fork a breast and a thigh onto a plate. He followed the chicken with a large dollop of mashed potatoes. “Do I look like a salad fixings kind of guy to you?”
“Jesus.” She yanked open the refrigerator door and peered inside. Closing her eyes, she attempted to bring salad greens to Barringer’s house. Nothing. She could transport, but that was with Split’s help, and right now, he seemed absent from her head. One day she’d get the hang of vampire tricks and be able to use them by herself. Spying an old, spotted apple, she grabbed it. “This will do.”
“Whatever.” He bit into the meat and chewed for a minute. That was followed by a big helping of potatoes. After he’d swallowed the food, he took a sip of white wine. He gazed at her with his head tilted. “You’re thick enough to miss one meal.”
The apple slammed dead in the center of his plate sending the chicken flying into his lap and mashed potatoes covering the front of his shirt.


Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Killa Kitty Vignettes

Killa Kitty: Open the window.
Me: No, honey, I have to get a screen first.
Killa Kitty: I'll just rip it again.
Me: Then the window will not be opened.
Killa Kitty: Bitch, I will cut you!
The window is open.

Shadow waits--and life goes on.

She growls and roars.

Killa Kitty Vignettes

Killa Kitty is terrorizing the household!

She was forced to drop her first giftie of the day at the door and she's pissed. We all stand back in fear as she wrestles a large, dead leaf she brought in instead of what looks to be a mole. Until she settles down, the unfortunate animal cannot be relocated to a place of rest, as she'll follow and drag it back. I'll do the deed at feeding time when she will be otherwise occupied.

Shadow waits -- and life goes on.

She growls and roars.

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Thirsty? Club Omen's Has Something for you!

Now in a Boxed Set!

A Vampire's Thirst

Once Nolan had been known as Temperance. He gave all souls moderation in everything. He was good at his job, and he called heaven home -- until he fucked the wrong seraphim!

Now Nolan wiles away time as a vampire slayer serving the devil, keeping an eye on Omen’s, a club for otherworldly creatures, and babysitting Lucifer’s son. Not a job he expected to hold for damn near eight hundred years. Nolan yearns to return home.

All Nolan has to do is utter three words and he can walk back into the arms of his archangel.

Temperance, moderation… ideas Nolan used to control in the universe. Neither of those things meant shit to him anymore.
Standing between the devil and death stripped away every remnant of balance imbued in Nolan upon his creation. Shit, if he hadn’t been buried between the thighs of some fucking seraphim whose name escaped him even now, he’d have provided the temperance needed to still the hand of Saint Peter’s murderers, and he’d be languishing his days above, instead of here on earth, in the devil’s playground.
Would God’s world have changed in any way if the Saint had lived? It had been the year twelve hundred and fifty two when the bastard died for fuck’s sake!
Nolan had stopped caring. He just wanted to go home.
His mind leaped to the last time he’d visited with Satan, the last time he’d looked upon the portrait of the archangel who had banished him and placed him at the right hand of the devil.
Gabriel wasn’t pissed off Saint Peter had died. He was mad as hell Nolan’s cock had been buried somewhere other than his ass.
Thunder rippled overhead, shaking the walls until pictures crashed to the floor. Glasses shattered to smithereens, sending deadly shards into the air surrounding Nolan.
“Now there’s a fucking omen.” Peris appeared in front of Nolan and clapped his hands, bringing everything to a grinding halt. “What in the devil’s name were you thinking about for this shit to happen?”
Club Omen’s was frequented by otherworldly creatures. Werewolves, gargoyles, ghosts, and demons, they all cavorted in the bar nightly. Only damn brave humans sat much longer than it took to finish their beer or cocktail and get the hell out. Dark energy ran rampant in the club, leaving normal people with a nice dose of fear.
“Why didn’t you let him finish?” Peris owned Omen’s, and his daddy was Satan. Nolan had had enough of Peris, wolves, gargoyles, every goddamn bit of it. He snatched a cold beer out of thin air, turned the bottle up and emptied it. “Trust me, he can’t hurt anyone but me here, and unless he calls me home, there’s not a whole lot more he can do but leave a few scratches.”
“Hell’s sake, which angel up there has it out for you that badly? Sure isn’t from my side of the family.”
Nolan cocked his head sideways. “What family do you have up there, jackass?”
“Don’t get pissy with me.” Peris swept his arms around the room, sending shit back to its proper place. “Damn glad no customers were here to see this angelic display of godliness.” He grunted. “Might give them the wrong idea of who’s bad and who’s good.”
Air whistled through Nolan’s lips. “Don’t you have someplace to be? Maybe wagging your dick in Moni’s pussy or something?” He glared at Peris. “I enjoy my own company just fine.”
“Oh, right, your own company, my ass. You’re f’ing around with someone up there, and damn if I want them tearing my shit apart. If Daddy… “
That was as far as Peris got. Nolan flashed up, snatched him by the neck, lifted him a foot off the floor and squeezed just enough to make his eyes bulge. “Fuck Satan.”
The floor shifted sideways, and Nolan dropped Peris, who skidded across the floor on his ass, slamming into the bar. Using his powers, Nolan lifted himself into the air. Still didn’t save him. Satan’s spiked, forked-tail slashed through a flaming gash in the floor, wrapped around Nolan’s waist, and drug him straight to hell.
Fuck me.
Lucifer glared at him, eyes red and full of fire. “I think maybe you’ve lost your goddamn mind.”
Nolan smiled at the devil from his sprawled position on the floor. “You could be right.”

Available at Changeling Press

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

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Tomorrow is coming!

Have you reserved your copy?

Repent in Love

Book 2 in the Angels in Love series.

Uriel, angel of repentance, wants Morta, the one woman he cannot possess. She is the Fate who holds power over life and death. A brief fling with her is not enough. He needs more than a warm body to extinguish the flames of desire—he needs to have all of her, body and soul.

Morta has burned for Uriel for centuries. But it can never be. She is forbidden to align herself with anyone, especially an angel. After a few fevered nights in Uri’s arms, she knows there will be no repenting for her sin yet Morta cannot let go of the only being in the universe who rocks her world.

Only one other angel has violated a similar commandment and survived.

A Romantica® erotic fantasy romance from Ellora’s Cave

Pre-order at Amazon
Or add to your wish list at Ellora’s Cave:

Samael and Morta’s duties kept them tied closely together in feelings and thoughts. She cut the thread of life but the Grim Reaper snatched their souls and delivered them accordingly. The devil got all the unrepentant sinners—humans and magical creatures alike. Sam enjoyed painfully dropping the bad guys at Satan’s door when their time was up. Morta had also seen another side of Sam, one that others seldom saw. He could be kind and gentle to children and elderly, whom he carefully delivered above to await Gabriel’s decision.
Her cheeks burned with anger right now because she knew Sam had instigated this foray into nightlife. “Why did you bring him here?”
“Don’t start shit with me, Morta, I like you and I’m not standing in your way. Why don’t you just fuck him and be done with it? He’d like that very much.” His eyes narrowed. “You just can’t have the mushy happily ever after bullshit, so be very careful. There will be no repenting.”
“What are you saying?” Apprehension slid down her spine. She locked her hands behind her back in an attempt to hide their shaking.
Samael didn’t make idle threats.
“If I’m sent for either of you, it won’t be personal. I will take you back. It’s my job.” His lips formed a slash across his face, his voice rattled. “And I’m damn good at it, babe.”
She searched Death’s face, the only angel whose eyes weren’t blue. They were silver and resembled a mirror. Anyone who peered into them saw their own true visage. If evil resided in any being’s soul, the hideousness was reflected back. She’d seen it drive some insane. Sam towered over most other heavenly occupants, his hair the same color as her snow-white tresses. Morta often wondered why she couldn’t want him instead of Uri. His buff body screamed loud and clear: I’ll be good to you. She often eyed the exceptional bulge between his legs. It surpassed any she’d seen. But being attracted to Death was difficult.
“I’d expect no less.” Mort shrugged. Her eyes shifted across the room to Uriel who held a human woman in his lap. He’d picked up Morta’s scent and his devilish blue eyes pierced her like daggers. An electric arc sliced through the air.
She fully entered his mind and the heat of his desire slammed into her. I want you.
I’m busy.
Suddenly shoved out, she snarled at his rejection.
Don’t play with me, Morta. I’ve waited more than enough years. Why now? His hand snaked up the woman’s short skirt and Mort felt his excitement at what he did between her legs.
She can’t give you what I can.
What are you offering?

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

Saturday, May 2, 2015

Her Maine Stud

Her Maine Stud
(SOS Series #3)

Tyrant Blue Blade Runner, special agent with the U.S. Dept. of Fish and Wildlife Special Outreach Services Division known as SOS, shouldn’t dally with a woman whose accident he perpetrated. Turns out Coral Gillespie is not only stealing cats from his property, she’s having some neutered! While monitoring the thief, her pert nose, saucy way with words, and generous swell of hips not only captures Ty’s attention, the wily woman may become his undoing.

Goddamn Gryphon! When he saw his brother, he’d demand to know why he hadn’t divulged information as important as Coral risking her life.
“You okay with this? You look funny.”
Ty tightened his hands around the steering wheel. “I’m fine.”
“Promise you’ll follow my lead or stay in the truck.”
Follow her lead! Christ, his ass was in deep shit because no way would he allow anyone to get within a hair’s breadth of her. “Sure, got it.”
“Pull over here. I want to peep in this guy’s backyard.”
“He’s got a shepherd he treats like shit. I’ve warned him once.”
“He doesn’t get a second chance?”
“Hell no.” She opened the door before he came to a complete stop and grinned at him over her shoulder. “Today, it’s the dog’s turn for a chance.”
After parking, he jumped out and trotted after her. Coral had already eaten up half the alley at a slow run. On her heels, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her ass encased in black leather. When she came to a stop, Ty slammed into the back of her and wrapped his arms around her waist to steady Coral. “Sorry.”
“Gee-willikers,” she hissed.
The words were so incongruous with her attitude and attire, Tyrant burst out laughing.
“Keep it down, he’s always home.”
She turned to glare at him, hands on hips. “You are.”
“I’m what?”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I can’t do this with you, go wait in the truck.”
“Like hell I will.”
“Tyrant! I don’t need you to back me up. I’ve done this for years.”
“Why didn’t I know about it?”
“Umm, because we just met?” Coral’s hazel eyes pierced him. “Look, you’re one hell of a specimen of man, but I could probably take your ass in under ten seconds.”
He grew more irritated with each passing moment. “Do what you have to so we can get the hell out of here.”
They reached a chain link fence with a hole only large enough for Coral to fit through, and she quickly folded her body and slipped into the muddy, garbage-strewn yard. She turned a corner and he lost sight of her. “Hey, boy.” Her soft voice slid down his spine and started his cock on a trip to bone-hard town. Christ! Not now.
He heard a gruff voice yell, “Gillespie, touch my dog, and I’ll knock your fucking ass out.”
“Okay, you know I’m here.”
A thud followed by grunting sent him into action. Jumping the fence, Tyrant ran a few feet and turned the corner to see Coral straddling a two hundred pound man and binding his hands with plastic cuffs.
“I’m leaving these a little loose.” She tugged the ties. “You can yell for your girl to cut them once I leave.”
“Another word, I’ll clobber your ass again, Jinks.” She tapped his face. “I told you he’d better look healthier in a week.”
“I feed him table scraps.”
“Jinks, he needs regular meals and fresh water. Don’t you get that?”
“One more chance, my kid loves him.”
“No more, it’s his turn now.”
“Fine. I can’t stand the fucker.”
“Then we don’t have a problem.” She looked over her shoulder. “Took you long enough. Loosen the dog’s rope and get him out of here.”
He got the dog loose and said, “I’m not leaving you.”
“Oh for goodness sakes.” She stood and nudged the man on the ground with a booted toe. “Don’t move until we’re gone or I’ll use this again.” She waved the nightstick in the air, and for the first time, Tyrant noticed blood running from the man’s nose.
Fuckin’ A, Coral was badass!

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