Sunday, December 30, 2018



A nor’easter brewed outside. The rickety pier groaned under assault from waves
slamming ashore as wind battered loose shutters, and rain pelted a tin roof. Rat-a-tat tat. Rat-a-tat tat. Jordy, rotund with a ruddy face, leaned forward admonishing his newest employee. “Stay from up around that lighthouse, lassie. A traveler went missing recently.”

Zel and his friend sat at a table listening attentively to a rumor they’d heard Jordy tattle before.

“Never been so afraid in my life.” Waitress’s eyes widened. “Did they find him?”

Her. Not hide nor hair.”

Gripping her tray, liquid sloshed as glasses rattled together. “What happened?”

“No one knows.” Barkeep shook his head. “That poor family. So many trials and tribulations in their lives. Especially the daughter, Rappy. She lived with her mom. Heard she possessed outrageously long, golden hair.” Jordy’s voice lowered. “Relegated to a wheelchair, she never came out.”

Lived? You never saw her?”

“No. No one visited the point.” Jordy heaved a sigh. “Met the mother once. When she came to town. A bit of a raver. Said someone scaled their home, duped Rappy into cutting her golden tresses, and then shimmied down the side disappearing into the night. That’s when she locked the girl inside.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Mother hasn’t been seen in a while. Some say she passed and it’s her ghost which runs madly around the tower screeching. Folks who’ve heard say it sounds like a weird variation of her daughter’s name.”

“Maybe mom’s alive and her girl died. It wasn’t a ghost I saw.”

“Perhaps.” Jordy swiped the countertop. “They got new people working the light.” Jordy rearranged some bottles on a shelf. “Couple of young men, I hear. Hope they know what they’re in for living up there. Gets real nasty during a storm like the one brewing outside right now.”

She attempted getting her boss back on topic. “No one ever encountered a child; does this Rappy even exist?”

“Only a mother’s tale.”

“Sad.” The waitress walked off to deliver drinks.

Handsome blond sitting with Zel huffed. “Unbelievable!” He peered unhappily at Zel. “The tales folks spin.”

“Right?” Zel attempted to lighten the mood. “Jordy’s barely owned this place for a couple months and he knows more than the locals.” Grinning, he added conspiratorially, “Hair growing outrageously is not only a bit much, it sounds supernatural.” Zel, fluttering fingers in the air, whispered, “Woo ooh, woo ooh.”

“Stop, it’s not in the least funny.” The blond sipped beer. “Next thing you know he’ll have dragons circling the ramparts.”

“Every time he tells the story, I actually love the part about long, flowing hair.” Zel’s voice softened. “It reminds me of someone I once knew.”

“Not the bit where a child has been consigned to a wheelchair or a stranger completely vanished. That’s not funny.” He stared into his ale. “A mother locking a child up, it’s, well, they don’t know how horrible that could be.”

Zel grew serious. “I worried about you when you didn’t return after our last semester. I figured things worsened for you.”

“I’m glad I told you about the Alzheimer’s. Finally got medication under control but not before there were whispers and rumors all around town.” He peered at Zel. “That tower is a damn curse.”

“I think the lighthouse is beautiful.” Comment met with stony silence. Zel hunched shoulders. “Wish your cousin didn’t have to leave suddenly.”

“Poof, she vanished.”

Wishing his friend would smile, Zel added, “She was a tremendous help.” Fishing out money to cover their meal and a generous tip for their server, Zel commented, “Waitress does look as if she had the fright of her life last night.”

“Jordy’s tale doesn’t help.” Running a hand through flaxen curls, Zel heard the man whisper, “Don’t forget to set the alarm tonight.”

The men stood, nodded toward Jordy, and left.

On their way home, Zel mumbled, “I’ll walk with your mom later.”

“Watch her closely. She almost caught that girl. Lord knows what she would have done.”

“You need to tell Jordy who you are, Rap. If he knew your mom was stricken with a condition that attacks many, perhaps he’d end spooking folks with his story.”

“How many people do you think leave here believing that tale, Zel? Do they relay it to others?”

“Probably all of them. And I’m sure each embellishes it in their own way. Not much happens around here to get people excited.” They reached the road leading to the point. “I’m sorry she locked you in, babe.”

“I’m glad you came to my rescue when I didn’t return.” Rap stopped, he pulled Zel into his arms and kissed him long and hard. Wind picked up. Frothy waves smashed against rocks flanking the lighthouse. “My cousin will be back next month. It will give us time together.

“Will you think about growing your hair back out for me?”

“I shouldn’t have cut it, it just became too much.” Rap exhaled. “Mom’s forgotten who I am again. I thought she detested me being gay and loving a man yet, strangely, she remembers us and strings our names together whenever she escapes and babbles to townspeople.” He planted another light kiss on Zel’s cheek. “Know what? Jordy can weave his story.” He gazed lovingly at Zel. “If I grow my hair out again, will you use it to climb the ramparts?” Eyes grew as stormy as the sea, “Or will you scale battlements to save me?”

Slits appeared in glowing eyes as waves pounded their feet. Zel whispered, “I am the dragon who will slay for you. Again, and again.” He hugged Rap. “We’re the stuff folktales are made of —

Rap and Zel.”

Or is it?

Does the dragon exists? If so, the ending of the story could be very, very different.

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

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Played For Pay

An older man, a young escort--can they find love against all odds? Coming January -


“I’m paid to be an escort. Nothing more. Anything extra is my choice and if it does happen—they will pay for it.”

Banyon Jameson loves his lifestyle. He likes money, makes lots of it as an escort, and he enjoys time with a variety of men in beautiful places. Ban, twenty-six, prides himself on being manipulative with an ability to talk his way out of most situations, especially those involving sex.

“I’m willing to pay my escort for ‘extra’ services, but it’d be a big mistake to fall for this pretty bastard wearing red silk panties.”

Stanton Kavanaugh, late forties, extremely wealthy, and told he’s handsome. Those very close know he’s gay, Stanton just doesn’t advertise it to the world. None have knowledge of his predilection for young, beautiful men. Single, eligible, he pays for companionship to ease loneliness engulfing his life and it works until Banyon Jameson answers his phone call to Brief Knights.

A young escort, an older man, and a pair of red silk underwear!

MM Romance

       “He is hot,” Hunter uttered as Ban checked out Stanton Kavanaugh. “If you decide no, please tell him you have the ideal match.”
“I’m it, trust me. “Ban sipped brandy slowly taking in the client. His styled, almost black hair with gray touching the temples was longer and slightly curling at the neck. Hard to tell, but he hoped for blue eyes which would grow appreciatively darker when…
He faced Hunt. “Hmm?” A big man but not out of shape large. Maybe a tad taller and heavier than Hunter. “Wish he’d stand and stretch or something.”
“Go meet him already. He’ll rise when you shake hands. I’d like to get going.”
“Let me watch a bit longer, see if he has any idiosyncrasies.”
“I’m fine standing here drooling.”
Soft lighting above the booth’s table showed Stanton Kavanaugh’s suit jacket fit flawlessly. A few shades lighter than navy complimented a sun-kissed tan. Long legs stretched out and a single strap monk shoe peeked from beneath the table. Hard to tell color. God, let them be brown. Blue would be too matchy-matchy, black spelled overdressed when paired with royal blues unless the occasion was formal.
One finger repeatedly tapped a glass in front of him. A nervous tic.
Making his way back to the man’s face, Ban sighed and didn’t care it audibly slipped out. “That face plastered across town on every billboard and gay men, all men, will flock to them as if he’s the messiah.”
“You’re nuts. Get your skinny behind over there. I don’t have all night waiting for you to be comfortable.”
“I’m good, you can scoot.”
Hunt eyed Ban. “You sure?”
“If he kills me, I won’t care if he lets me kiss those breathtaking lips first.”
“Ban, ring me in the morning?”
Something they always did for each other. “Promise.” Escorts led a perilous existence as you never knew what psycho might get his hands on a credit card and order up a hunk to slaughter. Ban liked his body parts where they were. “I’ll be home to pack in the morning. See you then.”
“Take care, man.”
Two rows of tables separated the bar from window booths. Banyon threaded through and stopped a foot from the table. “Stanton Kavanaugh?”
“You and your friend decided I look sane and harmless?”
“I’m Banyon.” No last names. If a client got hooked on an escort, it’d be difficult to locate them without it, though, not impossible. He tilted his head. “Sane? Probably. Harmless? I seriously doubt it.”
“I see.” Finger still tapped. “Have a seat.”
He didn’t get up. Darn!
Goddamn beautiful! Stanton had observed both young men wondering which would walk his way. He’d prayed for the shorter brunette who was slender, not muscular as his friend was, and pretty didn’t quite do justice as a description. His outfit screamed fashionable. Midnight blue trousers, a white V-neck covered by a sedate gray jacket with sleeves effectively pushed up showing just a bit of shirt cuff. Navy wingtip with what looked like gray suede. Damn, I hoped for more flamboyance. Stanton didn’t fear effeminate men, felt no way less of a man because of his attraction.
Still, this fucker is sharper than hell. And I love it! Stanton took pride in his attire and appreciated men who dressed well.
Sooty lashes any woman would covet, blinked over brown eyes the color of barrel aged whiskey.
Magic will happen anywhere he puts those lips.
“I play black jack, maybe catch a show. Generally, I’m not going to do a damn thing. This trip is for me to unwind. Are you interested?”
“At your service.”
“I haggle over contracts for a living and prefer it not be such a drawn-out process in my private life.”
“I get that.”
“Might the likelihood exist for a bonus?”
“That possibility always exists, Stanton.”
The answer he expected. Realizing his fingertip rapped against a glass, Stanton curled and flattened his fist on the table. “I’d send a limo under normal circumstances but I’ll see you at LAX. Nine sharp.” He pulled out his wallet, extracted a card that contained his name and number only. Stanton pushed it across the table. “Contact me when you arrive. Doesn’t matter which gate.”
“Call me Kav.” He stood and stepped to where Banyon sat. “I won’t bet on who is harmless in this equation.” Caressing his escort’s face, running a thumb along pouty lips, Stanton said, “You’re fucking beautiful and I don’t doubt you could hurt a man badly.”
Tall, big, and that voice! Low, calm, and filled with seduction. Goodness, forget talking a nun out of panties, he might convince the devil to turn heat off in Hell. 
Banyon did not fool himself his client would be easy. This man would quietly persuade, smoothly compel whatever he deigned necessary out of any transaction. Ban hadn’t miscalculated. Stanton… Kav, was a force to be reckoned with but he got the right man for the challenge.

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

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

New Release Sale

Just 0.99 cents through Christmas!



A near collision sidetracks two lives.

Cristophe Kingston hasn't dated since... Okay, it's been months. Hands in his pockets, he watches an endless line of revelers enter a club he frequents. Something, an odd chill, forces Crist to hurry away and he carelessly lurches into traffic.

Already late for a deadly assignation, Lex Torcher figures what the hell--a perfect diversion. Too many years on earth has Torch craving human touch. The stranger who steps in front of his bike will surely have gentle, soft hands, hands capable of performing what others never do.

Torch's momentary distraction, his brief interlude, pits him against his boss culminating in an all-out battle for Crist as Torch's employer is none other than--the Grim Reaper, an unpredictable and greedy monster!

MM Paranormal Romance/ReligErotica

“What are you protecting me from?”
“Here, nothing.”
“I’m capable of taking care of myself.” He gazed at Torch. Lord knows it’s not what should be on his mind but the beast enticed him, raised a carnal hunger he no longer wished to deny.
“I’m not an animal, Crist. I don’t turn into one. I enjoy various supernatural powers and I’m immortal. My kind have lived among yours forever. I find the word beast off putting.”
“Then I won’t think it again.” Would be sweet to have him for one night. Hope you got that. “Why should I stay?”
“I got it.” Torch smiled. “Stay because I want you.”
“Understand something, Crist. Walk through my door and I will take everything.”

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

Tuesday, December 11, 2018

How much do you know...

About me?

J. Hali Steele latest interview by AllAuthor A multi-published author of romance, J. Hali Steele grew up in southeastern Pennsylvania in a little city situated equally between Philadelphia and Amish Country. Her dream was to become a veterinarian as she loves animals, cats in particular. Thanks to my mother, she developed an early love of reading. She has seven 8 ft. shelves full of books. Sharing her secret of becoming a multi-published author, she says, "Do it from the heart and not based on what is currently selling." Read full interview...

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