Twice the Burn

Throwback Thursday and I give you Julius 'Juls' Talmane and Isaiah 'Ice' Sims from TWICE THE BURN, a multicultural/interracial MMF menage, and final book in the Triumvirate series which was published exactly 2 years ago today!
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01LBRK0GY/

Enjoy this snippet:

Blood ties change with just one bite!

Julius Talmane turns Isaiah Sims because he desires having him forever. The Triumvirate has little choice but to give its blessing considering Julius is not only its third member, he’s Layne Indigo’s best friend. What he didn’t see coming is falling for one woman he should never ever dream of touching.

One creature seizes Piara Kaur Indigo’s attention; another is thrown in her lap. Not only does she crave both, together, she intends to keep them. Their inability to hide shared carnal desires from Piara’s son, Layne, the strongest, most magical vampire alive, may well spin civilization toward destruction. Nature is on a rampage and no one is safe!

Excerpt:

A hunter cell recently approached to induct him into service warning Isaiah vampires now attended churches around the world giving some power enough to deflect holy ammunition. They sought his superb marksmanship. He declined their invitation having encountered more good than bad in many undead he brushed against.

The one he considered today didn’t run, neither did he give off the foul feeling of evil as it lingered in his mind. It was different which didn’t surprise Isaiah because vampires, especially males, were known whores who’d sleep with any sex. Stronger than most he’d come upon; it did perplex Isaiah why it made no move to do anything other than watch. Rubbing his temples, he realized the culprit was more than aware Isaiah knew he remained in his head and… Odd, there was the distinct smell of cherries.

“You okay, man?”

Snatched into the present, Isaiah twisted to look at the chef. “I’m good. Why?”

“Look like you saw a ghost.”

Bette’s exact words. Normally better at camouflaging what he felt, Isaiah shivered as if someone walked over his grave. More importantly, why had the monster set up shop in his psyche? Bastard continued to sift through every open pathway stealing bits and pieces of his mundane life. “Get the fuck out!” he growled.

“Ice, dude!”

Looking up he realized not only the chef eyed him, two other employees peered at him through shelving. “I’ll be back.” Both men stepped aside when he limped past and headed up a flight of stairs to his spacious apartment. Locking the door, he immediately began to strip clothes off on the way to his bathroom. “No, no, not now, not a man.” Don’t let him see! Stepping in the shower, he set the faucet to spew tepid water down his body which, though it felt overheated, continued to tremble as though ice water sloshed through his veins. “I will kill you if I ever lay eyes on you.” Christ, he’d never felt one like this, not attached to every sensual nerve linked to his brain cells, not burrowed so deep inside him… “Jesus, God, help me.” He allowed water to sluice down his back while soaping his chest and belly. Reaching his crotch, he begged, “Please, please don’t watch me.”

* * *

Julius had dematerialized and ended standing in front of a mirror in his suite’s bathroom thinking first thing he should do is inform Layne. Empathic individuals were scarce and many of those surviving had been mustered by vampires into service, their abilities honed and used as instruments against their own people.

“Not him, not Isaiah Sims. Leave him be.” Julius never desired anyone this much except… No! He thought he’d shoved her from his mind. Falling the fuck apart. Ignoring his own advice, Julius planted himself in the man’s psyche where Isaiah discovered him immediately, felt Julius’ furtive tentacles reach into every corner of his brain snatching parts of his life. “Christ, he almost controls his power.” Many empaths shut down completely by leaving society and they subsisted away from anything living. Some lost their minds and lived out remaining days in mental institutions while many more, unable to handle the cacophony of voices as well as feelings rattling through their heads, ended their lives before they even reached adulthood.

Julius had travelled up steps with Ice and entered a large apartment where he undressed, scrambled through an airy room into his bathroom, and turning water on, he stepped under a cool spray. Julius grasped every move, he even began to stroke his cock in time with Ice until he made a fantastic discovery. His heart thundered at learning Isaiah had yet to give himself to a man, take pleasure the way he always dreamed. “Mine!” Julius exclaimed.

Trying to remain quietly ensconced in Isaiah’s head wasn’t easy. In fact, he failed miserably as his own neediness swept through his body and rendered his dick so hard his vision blurred, but then Isaiah pleaded, Please, please don’t watch me. Agony in his words dropped Julius to one knee. 

Julius Talmane’s existence had become one of imparting pleasure to anyone interested. Stay in his head, give him what he craves. “What the fuck!” Julius, unable to regain his feet, couldn’t find it in himself to disobey such a heartfelt cry. “I can’t do this,” he whispered as he relinquished Isaiah’s mind.

Life is complicated, it’s loud, death arrives silently. – J. Hali Steele (from Twice the Burn)

WIP Wednesday

Meet Deacon...

                  SUBSIDE

The only one of his kind, Deacon recalls thousands of years existing yet he has no memory of why. He can’t profess to living in seclusion because he greedily pursues pleasure in arms of so many men, he never lacks companionship. All those arms, lips, and asses, none feed his true desire. Deacon yearns for someone to make in his own image by introducing them to a hunger so vile, they will detest him forever.

Father Merck Hallowell stands at a crossroad of conscience and faith. His convictions, no longer satisfying, leave him searching for reasons to persevere. Befriending a handsome but strange parishioner opens a doorway Merck longs to enter and explore. Discovering Deacon’s secret, he realizes not only his life hangs in balance—so does his soul!

Excerpt:

Shadows caused by clouds scuttling across the moon played over stained glass presenting faces of heavenly creatures which magically came to life as silhouettes waxed and waned.

Deacon wasn’t there to observe this—he came for Merck Hallowell.

Having watched the holy man circumvent alleyways and side streets nightly in an effort to recapture something he’d lost and would never find again, Deacon decided, by sharing his affliction, Merck was the only person capable of subsisting with him.

Deacon sustained his life on the blood of others and, frankly, he didn’t care anymore if they lived or died though, that decision was usually made in the process of draining them of their most prized possession.

Some deserved to die instantly but he made them suffer more by showing a kaleidoscope of deviousness they’d lived with but hid deep in scarred psyches. He let them see a thousand-year-old visage of bone with peeling gray, shriveled skin. Those not so bad, he left to bleed out on their own or, if they were lucky, some derelict would happen along and save them.

He’d viewed that scenario often where the person finding them rolled the individual taking everything of value including their shoes. Enduring on these mean streets was hard. Before absconding with everything scavenged, they’d call out loud enough to attract attention to the dying before scurrying away in the dark to gloat over new prizes.

Many more were nothing but sustenance and they remained none the wiser as not even a tell-tale mark indicated why they felt slightly fatigued. Perhaps this group didn’t deserve to know Deacon at all but they did. Recently, no feeling other than being satiated before they were drained saved their lives.

These reminded him of a verse he’d read, reread, and memorized wishing to find something he, himself, lost millennia ago—Deacons must be dignified, not double-tongued, not addicted to wine nor greedy for dishonest gain. They will hold the mystery of faith with a clear conscience. Let them also be tested first then let them serve as deacons if they prove themselves blameless.

The rest of the verse didn’t mean much as Deacon never appreciated lying with women so he’d surely never be the husband of one wife nor did he wish to bring children into his world. Neither did he recollect serving anyone well but himself.

Deacon desired remembering why he was at all, why he’d lost his graciousness and faith.

Could one as lost as the priest help him find what went missing?

Still not too late in the evening, Father Hallowell, whom Deacon had observed for enough months to know his schedule inside out, would be in residence.

Having enjoyed a leisurely meal of rare prime rib at a swanky restaurant not far away, Deacon waited outside the cathedral to see the moon begin its slide into the sky, to watch cloud play on glass and illuminate the cross stretching skyward.

He entered the church and moved quietly down the aisle to take a seat in the row second from the front. Big mistake. The woman in the first pew, who still believed in covering her head in God’s presence, left her neck bare where a frantic pulse beaconed him as if a bright light flashed off and on beneath her skin with each beat of her heart.

The door beside a thick pillar squeaked open and voices preceded Father Hallowell and another, much older, priest. Deacon spotted the elder man arrive two days ago, knew he’d be in residence for at least four days as he helped out until a new priest could be assigned to the parish.

I should have taken your blood. Had he ingested a tiny bit, he’d know more about Merck and what machinations went on in his mind even though the mystery intrigued him. What he was able to glean came from a slight brush of hands between both men at a nearby market.

That momentous day sealed Father Merck Hallowell’s fate.

Had he been a pure holy man, Deacon would not have given him a moment’s thought.

The men were unaware he could hear every word they whispered.

“We all have crises of faith, Merck. It is expected especially in a parish such as yours.”

“You mean one without enough funds to carry out needed programs?”

“You can’t save them all.”

“Why? They sit in wealth at many surrounding parishes. Can they not share their abundance?”

The older man stopped to scrutinize Merck. “You feel the more you save the more it will appease your own soul.” Twisting away, he continued. “Faith should be something we carry daily and not be measured by how many we rescue from their quagmire of…”

“Of hunger? Of too little housing and not nearly enough public services to assist them? Rescuing them from knowledge they’ll be poor and destitute until the day they die?”

“We pray for their souls. You also have sisters helping with your shelter which provides housing and meals for the more unfortunate.”

Merck no longer attempted to modify his voice. “Jesus Christ, you speak of no more than twenty when there are hundreds who go hungry with no roof over their head daily!”

“Father Hallowell!”

“Rest well, I must see to confession.”

“Are you not going to change?”

“No, I’m not.” A labored sigh rattled from his throat. “See yourself out in the morning as I’ll be tired from scouring streets tonight in hopes of bringing in those who suffer most.” Hands jammed in his pockets, Merck watched the man walk away.

Turning, he touched his throat, made sure his stiff collar remained straight in his black dress shirt. When he faced pews, Deacon noticed something about the man he’d not paid attention to before. Sans vestments he wore every Sunday and for midweek service, not wearing the wool jacket he donned at night, Merck’s body appeared athletically fit in a pair of well-worn black jeans. All those nights walking.

Dark lashes fluttered up and down over light brown eyes which didn’t seem to take note of three parishioners, including the woman in front of Deacon, walk out. Merck ran a hand through waves of chocolate brown hair before he stroked it over a day’s growth covering cheeks and chin giving accent to a thin mustache he always wore.

Shit! Broodingly beautiful.

Left alone with Father Hallowell, Deacon stood, brushed down the front of his black pinstriped jacket, he straightened his fashionable tie, and pinched razor-sharp creases in perfectly fitting trousers. He left the pew and headed to the confessional.

Tonight, Deacon planned to open Father Hallowell’s eyes.

Life is complicated, it’s loud, death arrives silently. – J. Hali Steele (from Twice the Burn)

WIP Wednesday

A little more of Nash Ichor --

WHERE HE GOES

An endless pursuit for one missing element.

Nash Ichor embraces every damn bit of what he is. Echoes of family, war, remorse and pain, even memories of Heaven—none of it belongs to him. He seizes it from every existence he steals. Taking their blood, or feeding his prey, the aftermath becomes part of Nash’s journey. Each day he seeks fresh, new encounters stalking one elusive experience… Life!

MacKena Temley has never been a girly girl which made her secretarial job for an engineering firm perfect. She spent more time ribbing men and delivering blue prints for various builds than sitting at a desk. An errant delivery one fateful day and Mac’s life is about to change forever.

Excerpt:

“Do you know anything about those blueprints I delivered to Switton?”

“No but after you left I heard the boss say he’d gotten a call and he wanted you to deliver them.”

“Me? Why?”

“When he asks, our bosses are gonna make sure it happens.” He, almost as if he were God, was how everyone in the shop referred to TEM’s owner; in fact, no one knew what TEM stood for. “Never met the head honcho but our leaders aren’t fearless when it comes to dealing with him.”

“Strange because the person at the address said they weren’t his and my car is broken down in front of his house. I left the prints. I’ll figure a way to handle it tomorrow since I have to get my truck anyway.”

“That won’t be necessary, I’ve handled it.”

Mac swiveled to stare into… Jesus, he had freaky eyes. Now they appeared sea green. “Look, Mr. Ichor, you can’t keep rescuing me because at some point you’ll exact payment. My bank account does not overflow with cash and I’m not giving you anything else.”

“Call me Nash, please, and why would I require payment? I feel responsible as a misdirected delivery to my home precipitated your troubles.”

Did lights blink? “That’s not your fault.”

“It’s unimportant. Your vehicle has already been towed to a service station and it will be delivered to your home upon completion. You should seriously consider a newer model of transportation.” He pivoted and took two strides before stopping. Over his shoulder, he said, “Twice you have misjudged me. I’m not sure the caliber of men you deal with, MacKena, but I would never expect the anything else you speak of.” His eyes smoldered. “That is a treasure to be earned.”

Manny snorted. “Dude, you could seriously give the rest of us bad reputations.” Amy elbowed him in the ribs.

“Gee, great advice but unless you’re buying, I’m riding old style.” She grinned. “I apologize for presuming but I like my independence. I’m not willing to trade it for any old thing. I do, however, appreciate your having Andrew bring me to AC.”

He faced the table but stayed where he was. “You should have accepted my offer of clothing.”

“What I’m wearing is fine, thank you.” Handsome as a Greek god, not lacking in wealth evidently, why was the man standing in a Mexican restaurant wasting time with her? He had to be dying in that damn coat. “You should rethink your attire. Aren’t you hot?”

“No.”

“Well you’re making me hot.” Though she wouldn’t complain about being his arm candy, MacKena never fit that mold. Too straightforward and mouthy. Hell, she might have one, maybe two suitable dresses in her closet to accompany someone like him if he asked her to dinner let alone anywhere fancier. MacKena didn’t mind; she liked who she was and she took care of herself.

“What is money worth if you can’t make someone happy?”

She picked up a note of sadness as eyes darkened. “Are you happy, Nash?” Asking questions, drawing this encounter out would only be torture as she wished she’d had the beer at his place. Gotten to know him. Why? He came off straitlaced and proper and that type never excited her. “I’m sorry, that’s not my business.” Unfortunately, Nash Ichor awakened something in MacKena.

“I would be happy if you’d accompany me on my boat for that beer I feel I owe you.” He shrugged. “I’d invite you to my home but my seating problem will not be solved for a bit.”

“Rather difficult to entertain with one chair even though it would seat two.”

“Perhaps not proper to say but,” A glint settled in his eyes. “My bedroom is fully furnished.”

“I bet it is.” Okay, not as prudish as she imagined.

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

Quench for Caturday

I'm diligently working (well, sort of in between other things that pop into my head) to get all the titles for which rights have been returned back out there. QUENCH is one of those titles. As soon as I finish with HARD CASE, the first story, Alek's will be next up. Just a little bit to remind you of who this Siberian tiger/lion shifting blood sucker is. Enjoy -

Alek is cursed. A tiger and lion mix, he also feels vampyre bloodlust. Finding a mate will require finding someone to sate that bloodlust and it has become increasingly clear that the two cats who live beneath his skin are outrageously, unbelievably picky. Then he meets Viviana, the one woman who ignites a fierce fire in his soul.

Viviana, a vampyre warrior, is shocked to come face-to-face with the one creature who can turn her cool blood into a molten river. Her powers stolen, she has to count on the cat for everything—blood, even her life and when they’re together she becomes a wildcat in his arms. Viv wants Alek as her own, and no one, not even Alek himself, will stand in her way.

Excerpt:

The addiction to the prince’s blood pulled at Alek, shattered his control again and again. It pushed him into the arms of any available woman just so he could prove his manhood. The weakness would never allow him to take a mate. He was unwilling to divulge his dark secret—his desire to take a man, namely the prince. Have him in every way.

Alek had seen mated male cats take sustenance often. They always went for men and then they’d go home to feed their mates. How did they deal with it, fight the carnal urges that damn near drew him over the edge? What made him different? This wasn’t part of the beast’s nature. His craving came from his blood-lusting relatives. Goddamn vampyres.

“On that thought, I need to feed my mate. Let me say this. Tres understands my sexual urges and accepts them. You’ll find the right mate one day and she’ll accept all that you are, Alek.”

“I’d never let her know.”

“Then you’ll never have happiness. If that’s how you choose to live, so be it. I’ve done all I can.” His friend sniffed loudly, wrinkling his nose. “And you do smell like a lion today. You need a bath, my friend.”

“Fuck you.”

Case left him sitting where he’d found him—alone in a corner.

He decided to leave tomorrow to itself. Tonight, he wanted to relax. The prince was off somewhere chasing his mate but he’d fed Alek well before he left.

His cock was full and he’d bed the first female who showed up ready, willing and able.

Alek sniffed the air while his eyes roamed the room in search of a candidate to take to one of the back rooms of the voyeur club. A few couples languished in softly lit booths while jazz quietly wafted from hidden speakers. He wondered which of them would end up in one of the many two-way mirrored rooms tonight watching others being pleasured and giving pleasure.

A familiar scent filled his nostrils.

Law and Dace were here. He’d been told to expect them. They’d all been summoned to join the prince in his search.

The prince’s brothers spent most of their lives in Europe and were considered master vamps. They lived totally on blood, ignoring their beasts completely. They were adept at hiding in plain sight. This close to home they must not be concerned or he would have never smelled them.

He decided to follow the trail, which led to one of the back rooms. Hell, he’d surprise them and maybe they could grab something to eat together. He hadn’t hunted in the vampyre way in a long time. Too long.

The hallway he traveled was empty. Alek stopped in front of the room housing Law, Dace, a few humans, and an unfamiliar scent of a full vampyre. Strange. Masking his odor, he vanished to materialize on the other side of the door.

Before he could move the stranger had him at knifepoint from behind. The lights were dim but he could see two human couples lounging sleepily on the sofa. Dace glared from a small bar in the back.

Law was the first to speak. “You’re living dangerously tonight.”

“We flashed by you and thought we’d stop later and catch up.” Dace’s low laugh was sinister as he eyed the humans. “We were grabbing a feed first.”

Alek remained motionless with the knife pressed into the skin of his throat. A cold trickle of blood slid down his neck as the stranger used one hand to pat him down as if it were a cheap stickup. When the hand came around and grabbed his cock, he made his move.

Lightning fast, he reached over his shoulder and grasped the stranger by his head and flipped him onto the floor. The tip of Alek’s knife now pierced the other’s neck and drew blood.

“Unless you want what you just had to be your last meal, I suggest you don’t put your hand on my balls again.”

“Get your ass off me and I’ll be glad to oblige. Fuck, never mind, your cock feels pretty damn good right where it is.” A slender body pushed up against him.

The voice stilled him and he inhaled deeply. Alek’s breath caught in his throat. Truth assaulted his nostrils and he wondered how the hell he’d missed it. Delicious female scent wafted over him. Shit! A freaking woman had held him at knifepoint and she smelled full-out vamp. Pulling his blade back, he released her and stood while she came to her feet with a lithe move that impressed him. Close to his height, taut muscles twitched with readiness as her weapon flipped back and forth through nimble fingers.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Alek asked.

“What in hell were you doing trying to sneak up on us? You ever hear of knocking? I thought you Kind had a thing about privacy.” She peered at Law. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Trust me, Viv, he’s not a cat you want to mess with, understand? Put the knife away.”

Dace’s snicker filtered through the room.

“Don’t call me Viv, no one here knows me that well. I’m Viviana. If anyone gives a shit about a last name, too bad.”

The vamp amazed and flustered Alek at the same time.

Her feminine chin jutted toward him. “Who’s Mr. Got-a-helluva-package?”

Law choked. “That’s Alek.”

“Ahh, your lofty Reign leader. How you doing? Nice cock you got there.” She motioned to the couples on the sofa. “Help yourself to a bite.” Viviana laughed in his face when his jaw dropped. “You cats need to stop being so damn finicky.”

Surprised by her boldness, he snapped his mouth closed. He’d never met a woman like her in his life. She had the foulest mouth he’d ever heard, no modesty at all, and she felt like a wet dream about to pop.

Alek’s dick was hard as a stick of dynamite and it felt ready to blow any damn minute. Christ! What was up with this female? And what the fuck was up with him?

Her moonlit blue eyes pierced him before she vanished.

He wasn’t hungry anymore. Not for food anyway.

Before he sheathed his knife, he ran the tip of it over his tongue. The vamp’s blood tingled there, sending another hot stab of desire right to his crotch. The taste of her called so loudly to him he followed Viviana right through the door. The last thing he heard was the brothers laughing.

Alek, pleased by the sight of her tight ass swinging in front of him, blatantly checked out her backside. Platinum-blonde hair hung down her back in a severe plait. Black leather hugged her lithe body like a second skin and her long legs ate the hallway up. She was tall and stiletto boots boosted her height to damn near match his six foot four inches. Oh, he could work her for a long time. The package she’d fondled earlier was still hard.

His hands itched to touch walnut brown skin he knew would feel like satin. And her smell drove him nuts. Damn! Could one drop of blood have… Hell, maybe he was in heat.

Strictly a cat man, he couldn’t believe how much the bloodsucker turned him on.

“You’re a bloodsucker too and no matter what you cats believe, you’re no better than we are.” She had entered his thoughts!

Alek jumped at the echoing sound of her voice in the empty hallway.

Concentrate. Keeping her out wouldn’t be impossible but it required him being more aware if she intended to hang around. Locking his shields tight, Alek slid his tongue over lips that still held her exotic taste.

He did something he wouldn’t normally do out of respect for another’s privacy. Alek eased past her mental barrier and invaded her mind. It was too easy. Viviana wanted him there. What he saw had his cock leaking like a faucet. She wanted to handle him, stroke and hold his cock, guide it inside her.

Hell yeah, he was willing to be handled by her for a couple hours before sunrise.

Suited him fine.

She continued into the main area of the club with him on her heels. He continued to pick around in her head and found she couldn’t read Law or Dace either. Unaware of the lion’s pure royal blood pumping through his veins, Viviana made the mistake of thinking he was just a Kind tiger.

Alek stopped dead in his tracks. What was he doing?

A woman like her, a vamp, wouldn’t understand his weakness. His thoughts turned to his beasts. For some odd reason his lion lay still, quietly purring. His ever-vigilant tiger stood at peace. Neither animal displayed agitation or cried out for blood.

His cock was still hard, and Alek knew there would be no satisfaction with anyone else tonight. In a fog of anguish, he started to walk again. Viviana’s eyes followed him from where she sat at the bar. He went straight through the club and out the door.

How fucked up his life was.

When he reached the parking lot, he raised his head and roared into the night, not caring who heard or saw him.

Pain too great to hold inside poured from his body into the air. The thunderous sound battered against tree limbs sending some crashing to the ground.

* * * * *

Viviana smiled as she made her way down the long hallway. The Reign leader followed her and his spicy scent filled her nostrils. She liked how he’d felt sprawled on top of her with his emerald green eyes glittering. If his hair hadn’t been a dead giveaway she would have known he was tiger from his smell. The Sovereign warriors had a reputation for being badass and if this one was like the brothers, she wouldn’t mind knowing him better or getting her hands buried in his rough.

Her blade burned hot in her hand. Unaware she still held it, Viv stared at a drop of blood glistening under the soft lights. Sweet Jesus, she wanted to lick it, taste it, and she did. Her nipples hardened immediately and her vagina clenched, sending moisture sliding from her core into the seat of her pants. What in hell was that?

Careful or he’ll smell my desire.

Pushing at his mind, she caught only a glimpse before banging into a steel wall. Viv couldn’t get in. The brothers carried strong royal blood in their veins and it had always caused trouble when she tried to read them. They were direct descendants of the original beasts turned by her ancestors. This was different. She’d never felt anything like it.

Alek, a Siberian tiger, had the same mental print of a lion.

Viv hadn’t counted on the excitement that fluttered in her stomach. To restrain her out-of-control body she reminded herself of his nasty thought about her species. It had pissed her off and she’d berated him for thinking of her as a bloodsucker. The Kind were no better.

“Goddamn fur balls.”

Confused by her emotions, she wanted to fuck with him. Allowing him access to one part of her mind, she let him have a thought that should keep him swollen and painfully erect. I wouldn’t mind handling a nice piece of ass like yours before sunrise.

Viv’s aroma quickly filled the small space and she knew her scent would snare the beast in him. The effort to close her mind weakened her tremendously. Stronger shields would definitely be called for if she planned to hang around him. What if she wasn’t able to keep him out while they trekked after the prince?

She continued down the hall and into the bar, taking a seat. Her eyes followed Alek.

Viv visibly shuddered when he gazed her way, sending an icy chill down her back.

The cat walked through the room and out the front door.

“Shit.” She’d looked forward to knowing him better.

“Are you prepared for what will happen if you cage that tiger?”

Viv knew very little about Case other than he owned The Looking Glass. His long, pale blond hair gave away the fact he was a white lion and the scent of fresh human blood coursing through his body told her something else—this cat was powerful. Case had no problem with his vampyre side and he had no problem breaking through her barriers to enter her mind.

“Case, we don’t know each other well enough for you to screw around in my head. Don’t do it again.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than the ferocious cry of a wild beast lanced through the club. The doors and walls were unable to hold out the sound of pain. Viv’s heart wrenched. Fear pounded through her veins, matching pace with her cold blood.

“Now do you understand why I asked?” Case made no pretense as he waved his hand, stealing the previous seconds of time from the mind of every human in the room.

His power should have frightened her. Hanging with Law and Dace, Viv was well aware of the Sovereign Kind who sustained their lives with human blood. They became strong vampyres and, aided with the senses and abilities of their animal, they were deadly creatures to be reckoned with.

“Fuck you.” Viv stood and walked back the way she’d come to collect the brothers. Reaching their room, she snarled, “Let’s get out of here.”

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

WIP Wednesday

Gage, or at least Sarah, will not shut up and my fingers are flying over the keys. Here's a peek at what's happening --

GAGE

Disciple's Descendant 8.

One woman he can't manipulate--all hell breaks loose!

Gage Harrow knows legions of angels and, aside from one, they're all fallen. Depraved creatures slip into his sphere daily and he must stem the influx. Aligning with one angel planning to regain his place in Heaven, Gage has to deal with his general who also happens to be his daughter. Fearless and competent yet she questions every move Gage makes with the disciples' descendants.

Sara is the daughter of Sariel, a powerful angel who controls legions and, as his second, so does she. Damn Gage Harrow if he thinks to usurp her place at her father's side. Unable to breach his mental shields, Gage stymies Sarah at every turn. Comprehending the importance of feminine wiles, she plans an all-out attack to win him to her side.

Don't expect Amen because it's only just begun...

ReligErotica

Excerpt:

I see you. His whispered words had not left her mind for an instant. Had she not been busy rousting Lucifer, she’d have given him hell along with a dose of pain he wouldn’t forget as quickly as he did meeting her.

Sarah couldn’t replace him nor his mercury gray eyes in her memory. No matter what she did or thought, he resided uppermost in her mental path. Brown hair laced generously with golden streaks added to his air of strength and wisdom. Narrow hips, long legs and broad, strong shoulders haunted her dreams. He’d stood by silently and watched her deal with Lucifer but Sarah had no doubt he could not have handled the situation if he’d had to. Seeing fingers wrapped around his cane, thumbing the sapphire, it all had Sarah wondering… Lord!

“Damn you, Gage Harrow.” How dare he walk away from her without another thought.

Gage’s neglect angered Sarah.

The man in her mind and in residence today had visited her father numerous times and never once asked or made reference to her.

Reparation drew near and Sarah, as her father’s second in command, should have been made privy to each conversation held yet, as if she were merely a woman, she’d been relegated to lesser duties each time Gage called on the angel who headed the movement to return those fallen to their rightful place above. Sarah felt lucky she’d not been sent on some trite duty today. Dressing in business attire, she planned on making an unannounced trip to offices below. “You will not usurp my position alongside my father.”

But how to stop it?

Gage’s involvement with the descendants of Jesus’ disciples was lauded by many in her father’s sphere. The man had practically opened Heaven’s gate for them by his stoic service to God. To date, he kept mankind safe from hellacious demons and Lucifer. Not only that, he’d used his employees in a manner that eradicated human’s undeserving of life.

How much power did he wield? And with her father’s gift, what magic had been added to his already overflowing arsenal?

These things Sarah would discover she just wasn’t sure how to go about it. There were others who, though they could assist, might be loyal to a party unwilling to see the Watchers return to God’s service. They’d been outcast for a reason with the most blatant being coupling with earthly women and blighting humans with Nephilim.

Worrying her bottom lip with teeth, she jumped and bit into tender skin when summoned by Sariel.

Sarah, join me.

Appearing in a modern conference room with a large table flanked on either side by three high backed chairs, she was taken aback at seeing Gage perched on the end of the table. “Did your mother not teach you it’s rude to put your ass on someone’s table.”

“My mother taught me many things.” His grin further exasperated Sarah. “As we couldn’t afford a table, no, she failed to mention that.” He stood and strode to where she was and pulled out a seat. “Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a philistine with no manners.”

Sarah seethed noticing her father lean forward and bend his head to hide a smile. She pulled the chair out beside the one Gage held and sat crossing her legs. “I’m not a child and I’m capable of seating myself, thank you.”

“No, Sarah, you are not a child.” Gray eyes traveled the length of her legs before settling on her eyes. “That’s not a mistake I’d ever make.”

Sorry she hadn’t dressed in slacks and a tee shirt, she grasped the hem of her fitting skirt and tugged it down an inch. It would go no further. Shit! She trained attention on Sariel. “Father?”

He sat back in his chair and eyed Sarah. “As my second, I’m going to ask that you spend time with Gage to learn how TD Inc. operates. It will be good for you to have firsthand knowledge of the disciples’ descendants.

Using her father’s name would demonstrate his power and Gage would understand she thought of him as a leader. “Sariel, I can gain information in many other ways.”

“Sarah, I insist.”

She jumped up and glared at Gage. “This is your doing.”

“No, Sarah, in fact, Gage didn’t feel it necessary to have you in his home.”

“In his home…” Wait. Now she was livid—he didn’t want her in his home?

“You will have the opportunity to learn much.”

She faced Gage. “I’m not commiserating with a bunch of women who don’t understand the importance of the battle we face.”

Gage reached for his walking stick from which the sapphire now sent shafts of light darting around the room. He walked to the door and opened it. “Layla, Petula, Sinalia, they are all valuable and will be strong opponents when the time arises. You already recognize how Demise will lend significantly to leveling the playing field.” Gray eyes grew molten. “If you fear camaraderie with real women, by all means, use one of the other ways you feel will be better suited to your… Disposition.” He looked past her at Sariel. “Thank you and we’ll meet again very soon.”

The room grew so quiet, Sarah heard puffs of air leaving her nostrils. Twisting, she realized her father had left also.

“That bastard will rue the day he met me.”

Death is overrated as punishment. – J. Hali Steele (from The Descendants)

Locker's Fall

I missed Caturday! Enjoy...

LOCKER'S FALL

Loneliness is a great equalizer.

Locker can masquerade as anything including animals on land and, his favorite place, the ocean. His residence beneath a mountain protected by a waterfall has been home for a few years. Unable to leave, he controls the local pride of lion shifters with fear. Then he finds her—a mythical white lioness.

Lonely and harassed by her pride, Silk seeks solace at forbidden Locker Falls. Coerced to the dangerous waters, she’s swallowed by a whirlpool and carried into the arms of a creature so old, he’s seen the dawn of time. Lock uses magic to read her mind, will he use it to steal her heart?

Sharing one lifetime will not be enough.

Excerpt:

Coming to in a cool, dark cave, Silk sat up on a soft covering separating her from dirt. She scented the fur used to belong to a bear. Remaining in her skin because she wanted to keep her fur, Silk allowed her cat’s eyes to check the space. Air wheezed from her throat after hearing fingers snap and a torch blare to life in a corner behind a… A man! He stood between her and light making it difficult to see who lit it or exactly what…

“The bear was killed by one of your kind before I relieved him of his fur.”

Oh, Christ, he read my mind! “Did you harm them?”

“Those who killed the bear?” He reached and removed the torch from its holder. “I would have if they had ended his life for sport.” Silk watched broad shoulders shrug. “I understand both of your hungers.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Why would I do that, Silk?” He brought the torch in front of himself.

For the love of God! A man so beautiful, her heart skipped a beat. Black hair hung in waves around his shoulders and the same color dusted his jaw. Ocean blue eyes glinted beneath the torch’s light as drops of water dripped over an abdomen rife with muscle. Nothing more than a strip of material covered his loins. Long, long legs held thick, taut thighs and calves that appeared very useful for swimming. “Why am I here?”

“Would you prefer to have drowned in my pool?”

“Your pool?” Anger toward the selfish being took root in her chest. “That river runs through my pride’s compound.”

“So?”

“Excuse me? Wait, since you know my name, shouldn’t I know yours?”

“Let me explain. Your kind have a whole river to mess about in.” He stepped closer and his scent circled her head clouding it with confusion. The man smelled of fresh, clean water as if…as if it had just rained. “I’m Locker.”

“You stay right there, Locker.” Explained why cats came to saying that word. How in hell would she keep this being from her mind?

“I’ve returned your people to shore more often than I care to and I assumed all learned a lesson.” Soft laughter echoed around her. “You did not as you’ve been here before.”

Silk noticed him raise his head slightly and snuffle air. “Does that mean you aren’t going to return me?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“You…you… You’re a bastard.” Silk stood and let fur cover her body. As her lion, she’d be larger, stronger and possibly more capable of fighting this monster. When her big paws slammed to the cave floor with a thud, she knew she had Locker’s attention except Silk wasn’t sure it was the kind of awareness she sought.

His aroma grew stronger before he said, “I think I’ll keep you… For a while.”

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

Throw it back

...out there Thursday!

During a recent release party someone mentioned Purple P Rose. So, in case you missed (or miss!)  her, thought I'd bring Purple out and let you spend a minute or two together. She's been boxed up all pretty at Changeling Press in a set called SCREWED and SCREWED AGAIN!

Changeling Press and Amazon and B&N - she's lots of places!

Here's Purp --

An irreverent poke into the world of Women's Erotic Romance.

Private Investigator Purple P Rose's latest case has her visiting the city's seediest nightspot, the Mons Venus, with partner and boyfriend, Richard E Rection. They're unaware there's a new and sinister being in town -- Peter Hard, a vampyre who's chosen Purple to be his.

When Richard goes missing, Peter, the local vampyre enclave's king, believes he knows the culprit responsible. Purp and Peter are hot on the heels of the vamp who has Dick, and he may be rogue. Peter will return him -- if Purple still wants Dick.

Their lives will never be the same again.

We kinda doubt yours will,either.

Excerpt from SCREWED:

That’s when Dick saw the fangs. Motherfucker! Vampyre. “Purp, are you okay?” He struggled to untangle Boy from his body and sit up. My God, this couldn’t be happening. Could the teeth be fake? Halloween come early? “Purp, talk to me.” She stood beside Peter and stared at him. Dick was at a loss for words. A nightmare. It had to be some horrible dream.

“Dick, shut up. You’re not dreaming and it’s not fucking Halloween.” Purp finally spoke to him. “I’m fine. Really. Thanks to your ass, I’ve never felt better.”

Dick took in her pale skin. That’s when it hit him. “You bastard, what did you do to her? Did he hurt you, baby?”

Peter twirled a loose curl of Purp’s brown hair in his fingers. “As she told you, she’s never been better. You see, I needed you to get to my pretty. She belongs to me. It remains to be seen if I’ll let you or anyone else touch her again.”

“We’ve just had this conversation, Pete. I decide whose cock I suck and who I fuck.”

Dick watched Peter’s mouth stretch into a smile. “That’s my Purple Rose. Always such colorful language. Ahh, I’ve wanted you for so long and the wait’s been worth it. Remember one thing, pretty, that’s my pussy now.”

Peter strode to the big windows. He flinched a little from the bright light, but not much. Vampyre. How did he move in daylight at all? Shit! Where did he even come from? This had to be a nightmare. These creatures couldn’t really exist.

We do. We’ve shared your world forever. Most of us mean you no harm. As with humans, some do.

“Why can I hear you in my head?”

“A small amount of my blood in your drink last night. And I had a little of yours this morning. You’re quite good. I need to keep you connected to me, if for no other reason than I like the taste of your dick.” Peter licked his lips.

“My Dick, you mean.” Purp flashed her new fangs at Peter.

“Pretty, you’ll be hard to tame. I shall enjoy this very much.”

“Fuck you.”

“You have, and so well.”

“How can you be in the light? Are there a lot of you in the city?” Dick had questions, but for some reason he felt no fear. He could never be afraid of Purp. Hell, she’s a vampyre now. It had begun to sink in.

“Much about us is pure myth. The light is annoying, but with age we overcome it. You should never fear, Purple, but be careful not to overstep your bounds with me, Dick. We shall all be happy for as long as I desire it. I eat food too. What’s for breakfast, by the way?”

“You’re beginning to get on my damn nerves with the possessive bullshit.” Purp was pissed. “If you want eggs and bacon, cook them yourself.”

“Okay, she can read my mind but I can’t hear her?”

“Correct and you never will. If you take any of her blood, I’ll simply have to kill you. Pretty is mine.”

“Stop calling me that. It’s so… I hate it. Purp or Purple, but the ‘pretty’ shit is pissing me off.”

“It’s how I shall address you. Although, I do like Purple. We’ll see.”

Dick watched Purp swing at Peter. Her hand didn’t connect. Peter held her wrist encased in what looked like an iron grip. Shit, he was fast. What the fuck! Dick still had a hard time taking this all in.

“Stop!” Dick told Boy, who the whole time had been massaging and pulling on his cock, which rose admirably to the occasion. Purple had a glow about her. She looked so damn sexy. That’s where he wanted to stick his cock now. Square in her pussy. I’ve become a fucking sex addict! No, he was a man whore. Or a man’s whore. Shit. Dick tried to focus.

The laugh that erupted from Peter jolted him back to reality. “Boyd, your ass is luscious, but you can leave now.”

Dick saw Boy’s eyes glaze over in a trance. He got up and disposed of the condom in the receptacle by the bed. He searched for his clothes, hurriedly dressed, and then banged the door of the loft shut on his way out.

“Hey, will he be okay?” Dick didn’t want anything bad to happen to the bartender. He liked the way Boy screwed him. His every thought had become of sex. It must be Peter’s blood.

“He’ll be fine, Dick. No harm will come to your new lover. He is good, isn’t he?” Peter still gripped Purp’s arm. She glared at him in fury.

“Thanks, he is good.” Dick scratched his head. This felt weird.

“We saw how ‘good’ he was to you.”

Dick’s face flamed red. How long had they watched him and Boy? Was Purp mad at having witnessed his debauched performance? His cock jerked against his leg. He gazed at her gorgeous body. She appeared so beautiful to him right now. Why? God, I want some of her.

She turned to look at Dick. A sneer began to curve her lips. Her gaze went back to Peter as she wrenched her arm from his hold. Dick watched as their eyes locked in a battle of wills. Without turning to face Dick, Purp asked him, “Would you like some pretty pussy, Dick?”

Excerpt from SCREWED AGAIN:

Relax. Meet my brother Benton.” Caldran rose and clothed himself instantly. “You two chat while I fetch the female back. Dick should have what he wants.”

“Hey, it’s okay…” His brother was gone before Dick finished his statement.

“Why have you come here to lie with him?”

“Whoa, buddy, who I sleep with is my business.”

“Purple is not happy. She’s concerned for your well-being.”

A myriad of emotions played across Dick’s face. His brow puckered and his cheeks reddened before he turned away. “I’ll talk to Purp,” he said. He climbed from the bed and rummaged around for his clothing. “Have you seen a black loafer floating around?” He dropped down onto his knees and peered under the bed. “Got it.” He stood, took his time dressing, and flopped into a wing-backed chair.

“Don’t you care she’s upset?”

“I’ll talk to her as soon as I get back. I needed some time away.”

Benton was flabbergasted this man could leave someone as alluring and delicious as Purple. “I suggest you hurry before they come to look for you.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t know my brother like I do. He’s up to something and it will most likely bring trouble to us all.”

“Hey, your petty squabbles are not my affair.” Dick ran his hands through his hair and stared at the door. “I’m not as acute as you guys but I think it might be a little late.”

There was a crash in the hall and Bent sensed the queen. Aww hell.

“Fucking A, can’t your dead asses afford electricity? Where are the lights in this joint?”

The door flew open and there she was. Where the hell is Peter?

“I can fool him sometimes, Bent. You were easy to follow.”

He’d protected his thoughts, yet she read them. “Shit.” This was not good. When Peter found her here, Bent would be blamed for being careless. This situation had to be repaired quickly. “How did you leave him unknowingly?”

“The same way women have done it for years.” She laughed heartily. “A damn good blowjob. Don’t worry, he’s still knocked out.”

“Take Dick and leave. I’ll handle my brother.”

“Handle me for what, little bro?” Caldran materialized in the center of the room. “Ahh, the glorious queen.” Another flash of light and Layla appeared.

I’m fucked. “Allow her to take her lover and leave, Cal. Don’t involve them in what you know will come.”

“Hold on, Bent, maybe Dick wants to be here,” Purple said.

This was one of those times he wished he wasn’t the second-in-command. Shit was going to hit the fan. Layla was circling around Purple with her hands clasped tightly together. He hoped they’d stay that way. “Layla…” Too late. The smile that danced on her lips meant trouble. She stopped dead in front of Purple and palmed her breast. Bent held his breath. The loud smack made him jump.

“Bitch, back off. Way, way off.” Purple’s eyes swirled red.

“Now, now,” Cal said. “No need for such language. You are our lady.”

“Only problem with that statement, is I’m no lady. She touches me again, uninvited, she’ll draw back a nub.”

Dick moved between Purple and the female vampyre. “Purp, I’m sorry… I should have contacted you.”

“Yeah, right. I can see you’ve been busy.”

“Don’t be that way. You haven’t had a lot of time for me lately.”

“Dick, you’ve damn near been with me every day. What do you want?”

Dick raised his hand to stroke her face. Bent moved to stand beside his queen. “We’re not the same anymore, babe. I’ll always love you. But things are different, you’re different. You don’t need me anymore.”

“I’ll always need you.”

“Yada, yada, yada. My lady, he’s with me now. So let it go. And shouldn’t you be home catering to our lord and master?” Cal’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?

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