Monday, May 13, 2019

New Cover!

Coming soon - 
Very Arrogant Bastard

Arrogance cannot fool a lonely heart.

Tegan Wild’s company ran smoothly even when he was absent for days at a time. He surrounded himself with capable employees he allowed space to do their jobs because he discovered years ago he could be a micromanaging jackass. He struggled with that trait daily and did well until he visited a site build and watched an agile sign installer swing effortlessly from two floors above.

Payne Sheridan was close to losing an apartment he never should have leased until he received a promotion. As regional installation manager at a graphics firm, he could wear suits instead of jeans and a toolbelt. He behaved self-importantly but shrugged it off as he needed to prove he was capable to a new supervisor, and his boss, a man Payne had yet to meet. Little did Payne know meeting Tegan Wild would smash his quiet life to smithereens.

Tags: #contemporary, #dubcon, #gay, #masturbation, #roughsex, #violence

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

Tuesday, May 7, 2019

Nothing Left of Me

Nothing Left of Me

Pre-order.99ȼSpecial Price.99ȼ

Beauty is not fleeting when worn by an immortal.

An erotic liaison between two men will leave humans vulnerable to blood thirsty monsters!

Brax Sevan oversees immortals populating earth; wily creatures humans ridiculously explain away with childish tales of boogeymen. He ensures annihilation of beasts who become careless and those who defiantly flaunt his rules. Curiosity as much as outrage sends him to delve into why one of his was killed by another vampire. What Brax finds sways steadfast objectivity, strips him of calm reserve and aloofness honed over many lifetimes. The guilty individual starts a fire that will not be suppressed and what Brax does next may cost his powerful position.

Cador Ridge spent hundreds of years as a consort to emperors, kings, powerful men from every walk of life, but he bows to no one. Then or now. His existence, though hard and sometimes rife with loneliness, is tolerable until another like him dies at Cador’s hand. Running was useless as there is no place to hide from their self-appointed leader whom he has managed to avoid for centuries. He didn’t expect Lord Vampire himself to pay a personal visit nor did Cador believe the contemptuous bastard would steal everything—but his life!

Contains: #death, #dirtytalk, #dubcon, #gay, #horror, #mystery, #religerotica, #roughsex, #vampire, #voyeurism

Vine wanted this assignment too badly. Rising, Brax crossed the floor. “You’ll be needed here.” He reached the door and twisted, “Have someone repair my desk before I return.”
“You’re seriously leaving me behind to have a desk refinished?” Lips curled. “A shiny piece of wood that if I remember correctly, my uncle gifted you.” Vine flew from the chair. Artwork shook, one painting hit the floor sending glass flying, when his broad back banged into the wall and slowly slid upward before Brax released the spell allowing Vine’s body to slam to the floor. “Fuck.” He used his sleeve to wipe liquid pouring from his nose. Angry, Brax had opened pinpricks in Vine’s brain that copiously leaked. “That was uncalled for.”
“You ever withhold information from me again, you’ll become a fixture on that wall.”
“I had no interest in what piece of ass Leopold plundered nightly.” Gaining his feet, Vine grunted, “Surely didn’t know the fucker retained so much skill.”
“Now you know.” Vine’s last statement was genuine. “Having the Picasso reframed gives you another reason to stay.” Brax pivoted and strode down the hallway of Sevan Lakes. At six foot four, over two hundred and forty pounds, he not only resembled the creature responsible for his being, Brax was well aware he was an imposing motherfucker and right now, anger sent waves of dread toward everyone he approached forcing them to plaster their backs against a wall as he passed. Those seated pretended to peruse something on their desks. None dared make eye contact as each ascertained a fire brewed in gray eyes that would scorch their souls. He could vanish instantly, take the form of any beast, living or dead. Wasn’t going to give employees that satisfaction. Brax wished for each individual to feel heat from his indignation, learn from it. A blink of his eyes and anyone present might go up in flames and he didn’t give a shit right now.
A very strong vampire had been slain by a goddamn consort. The bastard’s true name whispered past Brax’s lips—
“Cador Ridge.”

Growl and roar–it’s okay to let the beast out. J. Hali Steele

Thursday, April 25, 2019

Immortal Redeemers

It's Thursday, so I'm going back in time.

Immortal Redeemers

Box set available at:
Amazon and Changeling Press (where you'll find links to all outlets)

Set includes: Unforgivable, UnredeemableUnhinged

From Unhinged:

Not even love could tame the deadly creature inside him.

Nightshade Santone discovered the Covenant right under his nose in the eastern part of the United States. Tales were told of its power, and Shade plans to make the book his. He doesn’t count on a feisty veterinarian getting in his way. The sexy-as-hell human willingly takes Shade to her bed, and damned if she isn’t keeping him there! Now, more than ever, he needs to possess the book and its secrets.

Kelsea Arden’s battle to keep animals safe and alive became a passion. One of a handful of humans privy to the secrets of Immortal Redeemers, she finally hoped to make a difference, but the untimely arrival of Shade Santone, a powerful immortal seeking the Covenant, is about to test Kel’s loyalty. The Redeemer not only unbalances her heart and her life, he gives Kelsea a new purpose -- capturing and keeping the raptor forever.

Two hours and five espressos after he’d claimed his table, Nightshade Santone sat still as a statue. Nothing ruffled his feathers, not even patrons milling around his table eying the lone empty chair in the café. Shade waited patiently. Shit, he had waited a lifetime to find the Covenant.
It was within his grasp if he waited just a little longer.
Arriving a few days earlier, Shade had booked a room at a motel in Shenandoah and called the manager of his club in Arizona to have money wired to the local bank. He was surprised to find one of his favorite menswear stores tucked away in a corner of the tiny mall when he made a necessary shopping trip to purchase warm clothing for his stay. Shade did not intend to remain in this part of the country any longer than necessary so he opted against buying at least one pair of the long johns he’d eyed distastefully. He thanked the magic which came into play and saw to it he always reappeared in the clothes he’d donned before allowing his raptor to emerge.
Townspeople bustled into the only establishment open for miles and it remained overflowing. Some sat on windowsills, some leaned against walls, and none appeared in a hurry to go back outside. What locals called a nor’easter blew snow in every direction, and before lumbering plows made any headway, more of the white stuff fell, covering pavements and anything else that didn’t continuously move.
If hell were to freeze over -- it would happen today.
Canvassing the area before the storm arrived, Shade had sniffed out three women, none of whom would pose a threat when he made his move. One, a female Redeemer around a hundred years old, the second woman he couldn’t quite figure out. There was an odd scent, not the usual piney aroma.
The third was the human he waited for.
A smile tugged his lips when his thoughts drifted back to the women and their scent. Immortals carried an aroma that had no rival, and having followed the human for a few days, Shade enjoyed the scent clinging to her even though it caused him quite a bit of discomfort. He wondered if she wore long johns and if flowers or butterflies decorated the thick cotton material. The sound of a tray clattering to the floor snatched him back to reality. The Covenant. He was in this godforsaken town for one reason and if he didn’t detest cold, snowy climes, he would have come for it sooner. Yet, niggling away at the back of his mind was the objectionable idea he hungered for contact with his own kind after years of loneliness. Nightshade shoved that thought away, and with a grimace pulling his mouth in a stern line, he attempted to stamp it out for good. There were bigger things to think about. Standing between him and the book was a legend among immortals, and the son-of-a-bitch had kept the tome hidden for centuries. Currently, he wasn’t in the area, and with this storm, he wouldn’t be likely to return anytime soon. Hawks took flight in bad weather, but not far, and snow made travel by car treacherous on windy, mountainous roads.
A patron decided to stop, eye his empty cup and the vacant chair, interrupting his train of thought. “You done? I need a couple seats.”
Ignoring him for the moment, Shade watched a teenage boy yank a leash and choke a golden retriever. The kid dragged the dog in his direction, and he prayed they passed his table. Come to Poppa. Small town, and the owner, a real nice guy, allowed a few people to come in out of the bad weather with their animal companions as long as they remained on a leash and were quietly tucked under a table while everyone sipped their coffee or nibbled a breakfast roll.
“You done or what?”
Shade’s spine tingled in agitation and he’d opened his mouth to respond when the kid tapped the man on the arm.
“Dad, Champ keeps jumping around. I think he has to go.”
The father turned to his son. “I told you, kick the shit out of him if he doesn’t mind you.”
The woman he waited for picked that moment to walk through the door, just in time to hear the dog yelp when the man punched it in the head. Shade slowly slid his chair back, but not before she weaved through the tables and stood toe-to-toe with the man.
“Jake, if you hit that dog one more time, I’m taking him from you.” Anger colored her cheeks, made her more beautiful than Shade remembered. She shook snow from long brown hair and pierced the huge man with a deadly brown stare. “I’m not telling you again.”
Shade bided his time. Sniffing the air, he detected the unmistaken sweet aroma that moments ago made him smile. He briefly wondered why the woman visited the Redeemers each morning, or was it possible she stayed there? Highly unlikely so many Immortals in such a small territory would require helpers. Shade, sometimes known as the Shadow by a handful who lived to tell the tales of him appearing out of nowhere and taking down small armies, had been the human’s personal shadow for three days and he’d followed her to the café each morning. Today, he’d come early and awaited her arrival. The man, his kid, and the unfortunate dog, just made meeting her a lot easier.
A pin dropping would have made a loud noise as every eye peered in their direction.
“What the fuck you gonna do, bitch? That’s my dog.”
Aww, hell.
The behemoth of a man drew his oversized foot back, prepared to strike the animal -- but never got the chance.
Shade didn’t have to leave his seat to reach the man’s raised foot with his hand. He snatched the big bastard’s leg from under him and he crashed to the floor face first. The youngster gawked in disbelief at his old man eating dirt.
“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” Shade stood and helped the man up before he totally gathered his senses and became even more confrontational. “You and sonny boy should run along.” Grabbing a fistful of material, he yanked the man close. The tips of their noses brushed, and leaning toward the man’s ear, he whispered, “I’m not as nice as she is and if I ever see you harm that dog again, I’ll rip your fucking nuts off and shove them down your throat.” He dusted dirt from the man’s shirt. “Understand?”
“I’ll get you for this.”
“Sure you will.” He glared at the man and allowed his eyes to change enough to spook anyone with common sense. Having a little bit of sense, the bastard took a step back. “I’ll be around.” Shade detested men like him and wondered if he abused the boy. “Maybe I’ll look you up later, how’s that?” Turning quickly, the bastard headed for the door, and his son fell in line behind him tugging the dog. “Easy on the leash, young man, shorten the strap and let him walk beside you.” The kid followed his advice, but it wouldn’t be long before he learned his daddy’s way. Brute force.
Twisting back to the table, he heard applause. The man had probably bullied everyone here at some point. Shade shrugged. “I wonder sometimes why dogs are called animals instead of us.” The woman remained in the same spot gazing at him. When she smiled, the café lit up as if the sun shone. “Only empty seat in the place, join me.”
“I’d love to.” She removed her fleece-lined coat and hung it over the back of the chair. “I’ll be right back.”
Shade moved his chair to face the counter. Sitting down, he noted a few people started to don their outerwear and leave, no doubt to gossip about the morning’s excitement. A table emptied beside him, allowing room to stretch his long legs as he watched the woman weave toward the register. The top of her head hit him chest-high. Standing five feet five at the most, she was curvaceous as hell with an ass made for fucking. He decided to spare an extra night before heading back west.
She returned with two steaming cups, and handed him an espresso.
“How’d you know?”
“I asked the young lady at the register.”
Shade dug into his memory for the last time someone did anything so simple for him. He gave up. Yeah, one extra night wouldn’t make a difference in his timetable. “Thanks.”
“Thank you.” She took a sip from her cup and glanced around the café. “You shocked everyone confronting Big Jake.”
“Doesn’t happen often I take it?”
“Jake’s a mean bastard and he meant what he said.”
“So did I.” Shade stared at the woman across from him. “You’re not shocked.”
Her head tilted and she peered at him for a few seconds before a smile curled her lips. “Nothing an Immortal Redeemer does shocks me anymore.”
“Well, goddamn, I’m shocked.” He didn’t bother to mask his gold eyes when he picked up his cup and drank the black liquid. “You smell me?” His dick twitched. She knows what I am! Shade planned to use her to help locate and retrieve the Covenant, but now that might not be as easy as he thought since she knew what he was.
“Uh-huh.” She took another swallow of coffee. “You probably smell them on me.”
“Uh-huh.” He missed casual conversation with the usual women he chose to fuck. Damn if it didn’t make him hard.
“You’re here for a reason?”
He put his cup down, reached over and took her hand. “I think I found a reason to stay a little longer.” A perfect nose sat between high cheekbones and over lips painted red, lips he wanted to lean into and taste. She was breathtaking. Her laughter tinkled through the air, made him feel happy for no reason at all. “You’re not afraid?”
“Should I be?”
Shit raced through his mind. How far away were the male immortals he scented, how much time did he have? Hundreds of years fucking made sex something Shade did lately only to release pressure or break the monotony of his day-to-day life. He only selected those who discerned his scent. There were women all around the world, lots of them, but lately he picked them up in his club, screwed in his office without much conversation, and sent them on their way. Usually with a handful of money. Nightshade had not felt this alive in years, and it might take more than a night or two to get the woman across from him into his bed and out of his mind.
“I’m Kelsea Arden, the local vet.”
“Nightshade Santone.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. “At your service.” Christ, he felt like standing, and bowing.
In another time, he would have.

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

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

A Priest's Vampire


A soul hangs in the balance!

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 pursued pleasure in arms of so many men, he never lacks companionship. 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!

Contains: An unacceptable #vampire, a #priest who wants him. #gayromance, #paranormal, #darkfantasy, #masturbation, #dirtytalk, #religerotica

Available in Kindle and Paperback at Amazon

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been seven hundred and thirty years since my last confession.”
“I’m sorry, my son, I believe I misunderstood.”
“You didn’t.”
Silence stretched out for almost a minute. “This is not something to trifle with.”
“Father, if I wanted to play with anyone or anything, I wouldn’t be wasting my time here.”
“Stop, just stop.” Breathing escalated. “There are people starving and sleeping in the streets. They truly want help.”
“No, they don’t. They desire a full belly and a warm bed. Nothing more.”
His duty was to remain in the confessional and help the man who had issues but Merck doubted they were with the church. After his explosion against Father Sharpe, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Merck that all but one very well-dressed young man quickly exited the cathedral. The way he stood and fussed with his clothing garnered Merck’s attention. “Do the words pride before the fall mean anything to you?”
“You did notice. Good. One should endeavor to always appear at their best even before their dream is truly achieved. Demonstrating pride upon accomplishing the feat is no sin.”
“Ahh, your philosophy is one must look the part of success. Might I assume you’ve obtained your dream?”
“I have yet to attain my dream. Nevertheless, I do take pride in myself and am quite happy with turning out more magnificently every time I set foot outside my home.”
He recalled short, severely styled dark hair. Before allocating wealth to benefit his struggling parish, Merck recollected dressing fashionably and, therefore, he didn’t miss the fact the man’s outfit reeked of money. Almost as tall as Merck and extremely good looking with a powerful build, the man wouldn’t go unnoticed anywhere.
His eyes were pale though Merck, if pressed, couldn’t say they were green or blue but he’d be able to recite that he had skin the color of soft, burnished gold. “I believe you’re more interested in yourself than comfort I or the church might offer.”
“God, yes, I am.” Soft laughter emanated through the screen. “And before you talk about using his name in vain, remember your outburst minutes ago.”
Touché. Merck didn’t have time for this but neither did he want to leave and, for the life of him, he couldn’t say why. Actually, he could. Audacity, impudence, and disdain sitting on the other side of the screen reflected much of what he felt himself nowadays. If only he could express it.
“I promise, Father, I’ll listen another time. By the way, my eyes are blue when I’m not hungry. Yours, I’d describe as warm cognac with a chaser of sadness.”
“How did you know I…”
“You must see to your parishioners.”
The curtain swished on the other side of the confessional but Merck heard only one or two footfalls. Rising, he stepped out the door and stared into eyes that seared his soul. The man had said blue yet what he looked into flared red with hellfire. “God in Heaven!” Grabbing the edge of the door with his right hand to steady himself, Merck felt a splinter rip through his thumb. “Ow!”
The stranger reached for his hand and tugged it to his mouth. Merck should stop him but before he could soft, cool lips covered the appendage. As he sucked, pain diminished immediately. He practically felt skin knit together. Releasing Merck, he asked, “Better?”
He glanced down and couldn’t find any sign of having been injured. Peering back in the man’s eyes, he saw they were, indeed, blue. “Your kind is not welcome here.”
“My kind? So that you’re not guessing, let me clarify for you. Tonight, before arriving here, I took life sustaining substance from an unsuspecting human. The idea of talking with you rushed me so no one succumbed to death at my hands.” He stared at Merck. “I still thirst.”
“Leave this holy place now and never return!”
“Then how shall we continue our conversation? I expected we’d have many talks.”
“I don’t know what you are but I pray He sees to your destruction.”
“Prayer never worked before but I hear miracles do exist.” He bowed deeply. “My name is Deacon and I’m at your service Father Hallowell.” He pivoted and slowly walked down the aisle but before disappearing into the vestibule, he looked over his shoulder and said, “We shall meet again.”

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

Monday, April 22, 2019


Friday is coming. So is Avengers: Endgame. I can't wait. If you haven't seen the trailer yet--here you go!

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

Wednesday, April 17, 2019


I believe it's ended. One story started and stopped, another refuses to be written, so I took needed time off. I don't know about other authors but I sometimes wake up with a full blown story brewing faster than percolating coffee in my head! Trick is getting the main plot in black and white quickly! I hope this one continues to move along as nicely as it started. A small taste below, the cover story, and it will probably go through a few transitions as the story takes shape. The cover tells quite a bit!


Beauty is not fleeting when worn by an immortal.

Brax Sevan rules immortals populating earth; wily creatures humans attempt to ridiculously explain away with childish tales of boogeymen or ghosts. Brax and his underlings see to annihilation of beasts who become careless and those who defiantly flaunt rules. Boredom sent him to delve into why, and how, one of his kind killed a powerful subordinate. What he finds sways steadfast objectivity, strips him of calm reserve and aloofness honed over many lifetimes. The individual starts a fire in Brax that will not be suppressed and what he does next may cost his powerful position leaving people vulnerable to blood thirsty monsters.

Cador Ridge spent hundreds of years as a consort to emperors, kings, powerful men from every walk of life, but he bows to no one. Then or now. His existence, though sometimes rife with loneliness, is perfect until another like him dies at Cador’s hand. Running was useless as there is no place to hide from those the self-appointed leader of supernatural beings would assemble to find him. He doesn’t expect the supreme one to pay a personal visit. Nor did Cador believe the contemptuous bastard would take everything—but his life!

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

Monday, April 8, 2019

Up in the Air

Not sure what I want to write.

Started Angel in Heat and just wasn't feeling it. Ended up trashing 5K. Haven't started anything else but contemplating an old piece I started months ago... Or I should finish a series I started which had a cantankerous character who walked away. Hmm. What next?

There's always You in My Blood which I've wanted to dive into since I got my cover.

Sigh. I'll sleep on it.

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

Tuesday, April 2, 2019

New--#1 in LGBT Horror Fiction

Bloodied Venom
Serpentine Vampires 2

When two lives entwine, death becomes abhorrent.

Hail Patrascu, an ancestor of Transylvania’s Draculesti family line, wields unique powers as the world’s oldest living vampire. Searching for death, he becomes something phenomenal after drinking venom infused blood. Not only does he possess vampiric powers, he’s been imbued with those of an even older creature—a serpentine. A snake, heretofore unable to change form, is animated with Hail’s vampire blood and now the monster seeks life of its own!

McCall Stephens had one drink; not nearly enough to imagine what he witnesses after being accosted in an alley. A beast so fiendish, it took the life of a man right before Call’s eyes. Now it stalks him. He haunts Call with eroticism, each encounter tugging him closer to a dark abyss with impossible promises. Giving in, he may lose everything—including his life! Or will Call’s wildest dreams come true?

The last in a short story series of standalone paranormal MM romances. Coarse language, masturbation, explicit sex, abuse flashback, and a little bloody horror. But there’s an HEA and no cliffhanger!


Earth beneath him felt warm, fragrant grass, silky against his belly, teemed with insects. He accomplished progressing across the expanse of earth to a nearby building rapidly. Stone buildings loomed floors above while he stuck to corners where walls joined pavement. Tongue flicked slowly before he felt vibrations through every inch of his body. Grunts of pain followed angry words he marveled at deciphering. Nearing the spot in a dark alley they emanated from, heat blasted him.
Watching dispassionately as two men wrestled to the cement, it wasn’t until a fragrance filled tiny nostrils causing the appendage in his strange mouth to whip out incessantly. That smell! Eyes immediately pegged the slender man he knew emitted the scent he could only describe as pure bliss. It worked itself into his lungs, stabbed into his psyche filling him with hunger never before experienced. The bigger man subdued the other by knocking his head against a large metal receptacle. He turned the victim to his belly and attempted to drag trousers down as he undid his own belt, but his opponent continued bucking beneath the vile attacker. Loud pleas blasted hearing that became painfully sensitive.
“Don’t do this. God in Heaven, stop!”
Noise from the assailant’s zipper sent anxious shivers through coils along his body as he approached the hideous scene.
“Be still you bastard.”
“Keep fighting, I’ll cut your prick off and shove it in your mouth.”
Having witnessed enough, surprise filled him when he didn’t have to struggle with his own monster to aid the slight victim, the one whose aroma continued to wreath his head. Conquering his inner demon had been impossible for weeks. He recognized hands first, legs quickly slipped from an underbelly touching cold stone. After his head broke through leathery skin, he pulled himself to his full height of six-foot two inches. Not bothering to clothe himself, unsure even if he could perform that feat, dark hair hung damply over his shoulder. Sweeping it back, he noticed his muscular body glistened with his creature’s secretions as he closed distance between himself and the would-be rapist. Grabbing him by the back of his shirt collar, he lifted the man a foot from the ground and smashed him face first against the wall. Releasing him, he waited for the culprit to twist toward him before rasping, “Use me.”
The first words Hail Patrascu spoke in weeks.
Beefy fist swung and missed. “You fucker. I’ll kill you.”
“You cannot kill what doesn’t truly live.” Feet scuffled across pavement as Hail watched the smaller man scramble behind a dumpster. He ignored him for the moment. Eyes he quickly surmised would be filled with hellfire leaping from perfectly round black pupils riveted the human in front of him to the wall. Loosing talons, he pierced a vein below the ear of the sorry excuse for a man.
“Jesus! What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m killing you.” A rivulet of blood coursed down his neck soaking his shirt while Hail lapped at blood on his finger. Repulsive. “Despicable taste of someone already dead inside.” Yet his lifeforce revitalized Hail, yanked memories of a different life to the forefront of his mind.
“Please…I… God!”
Fangs clicked into place and he marveled at hooked points his tongue met on ends of incisors. Teeth he’d used to capture small forest mammals. They dripped with a substance he touched and contemplated. Thick yellow fluid tinged red. Clamping onto the man’s jugular, he gathered, as had happened with animals he recently ingested, venom replaced blood he gulped. It raced through veins to the perpetrator’s heart and in mere seconds, he went limp. “Paralyzed but you’ll hear and feel for a minute or two.” Letting him hit the ground hard, Hail gasped air as if a drowning man as pictures flashed in his head of each male the scum raped and mutilated. “Unbelievable I championed humans if there are more like you.” A whimper snatched attention to the other guy. Extraordinary vision revealed green eyes stretched wide in a distorted face peeping from behind the trash bin.
Fuck me! His first foray a major distance from the nest he usurped from a rattler whose mind he never could interpret ends in death. Now what? Dispose of the filth or leave him?
His mind became clearer with each second he imagined ticked by.
Hail stood naked over a body local police would conclude expired due to a lethal snake bite rendered by a reptile that exists thousands of miles away yet somehow found itself in the middle of a small city crowded with people. They’d assume it escaped from God knows where, put out a warning, and forget about it as soon as a better story surfaced. Leave him.
Another dilemma existed.
The man cringing in trash and putrid waste could only be convinced he saw nothing if bitten by Hail allowing him to gain mind control. Bite him, he dies also. Oddly, the human’s unique odor spelled out a more bothersome issue as far as Hail was concerned. He had no regret over killing the vermin at his feet; his action saved many men from an act that, if it didn’t end with their death, would leave them scarred for life. Hail’s regret came from recognizing the cowering man belonged to… Shit! Who did he belong to? Reptile, or vampire, who, until fifteen minutes ago, shared the serpent’s long, cold coils. Every memory buried in the devious reptile’s tiny, twisted brain rushed forth. Including the fact Hail had paid a creature with great powers to terminate his exceptionally long life. Movement alerted him to the man standing and bolting from the alley leaving Hail uncertain how to proceed. Follow him. Discover where he resides.
Then locate Paladin Bodine—the serpentine bastard who owed him death.
“Goddamn it, I’m alive.”

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

Sunday, March 10, 2019

A saucy goth twink -

PAID TO PLAY (Brief Knights 3)

The last Brief Knight! Pre-order now for 3/22/19  

Amazon  Kobo  BN

#escort, #fetish, #gay, #gayromance, #lgbtq, #lingerie, #maydecember, #rentboy
A bit of conversation:

Scott walked past his boss. Reaching outside, he spied another large man slouched against the same black car he’d seen today. Frowning, he sniped, “God knows what they feed you big bastards in Philadelphia.” 

“Best cheesesteaks in the world. Name’s Dan. You carrying any weapons?” Car door remained closed. 

“For crying out loud; you want to see?” Scott unzipped his vest and pirouetted. “Want to feel me up?” He hadn't missed the gleam in Reed's eyes when he spun for Dan. 

“Not particularly. Pants tight as yours don’t hide much.” Dan opened the door. 

“Explains why you’re eyeballing my big dick.” 

The man opened the door and Scott climbed in. Heard him comment to Reed, “Good luck with that one.

Driver eased into traffic and Reed grabbed a bottle of Rare Breed bourbon from the bar compartment. “I take it from seeing pink above jeans this afternoon you like panties.” Pouring shots, he passed one to Scott. “Tell me, are those you’re wearing tonight the same color blue?” 

“I can tell you where I bought them and how much you’ll have to pay for a pair if you’re interested.” 

“The store’s name will suffice.” 

Situation became more unbearable by the minute. “I’ll make sure you get it.” 

Thank you.” 

Prick got on every one of Scott’s nerves. “Whatever.” And as suspected, Reed's eyes didn't miss a thing. He remembered the color panties Scott wore earlier.

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

Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Tuesday Talk

Ever wonder what men say about their men when they’re alone? Check it out.

Reed Chandler wasn’t sure he wanted to make this trip. A few hours after landing in Vegas, Stanton Kavanaugh, Wes Tucker, and Reed gathered in a club that appeared deserted. Two servers stood nearby after they were escorted to their table. “Who planned this shindig? Damn place is empty.”
“Does anyone say shindig anymore?”
Glaring at Wes, Reed cautioned, “Age related comments like that will get your ass in hot water.”
“That wasn’t a dig… Hell, you’re right. I’m not far behind you.”
“Thank you very much. And didn’t Hunter plan this?”
“Knew I should have handled it.” Wes waved a waiter over. “Is the club open tonight?”
“No, sir. Private party. You’ll be our only guests. Would you like a beverage?”
Each man ordered drinks and Stanton bought the most expensive champagne the club offered. “May as well live it up.”
Wes chuckled. “Sure you’re ready? Marriage is a big step.”
“I think I’m getting the better part of this deal. Banyon is perfect. Damn man cooks like an executive chef. My house should have at least three stars.”
“Yeah and I’m positive the way to your heart is through your stomach.”
“Kiss my ass, Reed.”
“I don’t know; Hunter’s pretty damn special.” Wes’ eyes closed as he spewed memories Reed could have lived without. “All that house painting, attention to corners and trim work, exquisitely done little details; should have known he’d be good with his hands.”
“Shit, you both do understand no one outshines Scott.”
“Figures you’d say that, Reed. Scared he might stab your ass?”
“Fuck off, Stanton.”
“We know you’re enthralled with his damn piercings glinting in sunlight, moonlight, bedroom lights…” Wes winced. “I hurt every time I think about them.”
“Jesus! You go around thinking about my man’s piercings?” Grunting Reed became solemn. “After tonight, he’ll want something else to add to his jewelry collection.”
Wes studied him. “Shit, you haven’t put a ring on it yet?”
“Have you?”
“Hunt’s birthday is coming up. I got it covered.”
Stanton nudged Reed. “I’ll give you my jeweler’s information.”
Their attention was diverted as soft music filtered through the room and lights dimmed. The curtain slowly lifted.
Ban, Hunt, and Scott stood center stage.
All three men at the table eyed each other.
Air wheezed past Wes’ lips. “Thank God!”
“Didn’t want to see your man’s stuff covered in pretty lace?” Reed was rather glad himself their young men chose to remain fully clothed from the waist down. No need to give Wes more fodder seeing Scott’s newest cock piercing.
“Hell no. I spend enough on panties and don’t need competition in that department. Bad enough I have to look at that sweet ass in those fucking jeans.”
Stanton rose. “I’m out. Enjoy the champagne.” He walked to the stage, grabbed Banyon, and carted him away.
Wes laughed. “What about you?”
“I’m going to watch Scott take it all off.”
“I can’t handle that.”
“I know.” Reed’s face split into a grin as he leaned back in the chair and stretched legs. “Have a good night.”


PLAYED FOR PAY (Brief Knights 1)

Banyon Jameson: “I’m paid to escort. Nothing more. Anything extra is my choice and if it does happen—he will pay for it.”
Stanton Kavanaugh: “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.
New Release!
WHEN HE PLAYS-(Brief Knights 2)

Weston Tucker: “I painted with love until she died. I never expected to meet him.”
Hunter Gold: “He’s crotchety, mean, disdainful. He smells damn good; he’s delicate, gentle, and oh so very nasty!”


Available for pre-order
PAID TO PLAY (Brief Knights 3)
Pre-order now for 3/22/19

Scott Ketchum: “I’ve slept with a few clients. I might sleep with him if I like him, but he won’t keep me enthralled for long. None ever do.”
Reed Chandler: “For the right price, my escort will put out. It’s my money and I get what I pay for.”

Standalone MM/May-December Romances, all HEA, and no cliffhangers. Includes lacy underwear, angry sex, and explicit sexual language with cursing!

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