Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Killa Kitty Vignettes


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

Shadow waits--and life goes on.

She growls and roars.


Killa Kitty Vignettes

Killa Kitty is terrorizing the household!


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

Shadow waits -- and life goes on.

She growls and roars.

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Thirsty? Club Omen's Has Something for you!

Now in a Boxed Set!

A Vampire's Thirst

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

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


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

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

Available at Changeling Press

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

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Tomorrow is coming!

Have you reserved your copy?

Repent in Love

Book 2 in the Angels in Love series.

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


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

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

A Romantica® erotic fantasy romance from Ellora’s Cave


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

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

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


Saturday, May 2, 2015

Her Maine Stud

Her Maine Stud
(SOS Series #3)


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

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


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


Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Repent in Love

I have a release date! May 20, 2015

Book 2 in the Angels in Love series.
Uriel, angel of repentance, wants Morta, the one woman he cannot possess. She is the Fate who holds power over life and death. A brief fling with her is not enough. He needs more than a warm body to extinguish the flames of desire—he needs to have all of her, body and soul.
Morta has burned for Uriel for centuries. But it can never be. She is forbidden to align herself with anyone, especially an angel. After a few fevered nights in Uri’s arms, she knows there will be no repenting for her sin. Morta cannot let go of the only being in the universe who rocks her world.
Only one other angel has violated a similar commandment and survived. Now Uriel must risk his life and find a way to do the same.
A Romantica® erotic fantasy romance from Ellora’s Cave
Watching Nony’s wheel incessantly spin threads of life grated on her nerves. Morta shuddered as she tried to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. She couldn’t stand the squeaking noise any longer. “Why don’t you oil that decrepit piece of shit?”
The wheel came to a complete stop and her sister peered up at her. “Are you feeling well, Morta?”
“I don’t know… Something isn’t right.” A deep sigh left her calmer. “I’m sorry, I just feel unsettled. It’s like a black cloud is hanging over my head.” A nervous laugh slipped out. “That’s such a human thing to say. Nony, what’s happening to us all?”
“Things change everywhere. They must change here also for us to continue to benefit mankind.”
“You sound hopeful.”
“I have faith.”
“I wish I had as much as you.”
Nony smiled at her. “Follow your heart, it’s strong and true.”
Morta wished it were that easy. She’d feel so much better if she could only see Uri and know that he was all right. Something happened last night, something she was unable to discuss with her sister. It didn’t matter. She didn’t understand it herself; how could she explain it to anyone else? “I wish it were that easy.” She nibbled at the tip of her fingernail. “Tell me about Marmaroth.” Mort had to be careful and not make the questions personal. Her sister would answer if it pertained to them all.
“There isn’t much to tell. God has always placed safeguards in his plans for the universe. He knew these trying times would come.”
“Why was he given power over us?”
“Does it really matter? If it wasn’t him it would be someone else.” Nony’s wheel squeaked back to life and threads were once again tied together with her magic. “I think he’s rather dashing, don’t you?”
“Nony! He holds the power of life and death over us. How could you think he’s anything other than a threat?”
“Morta, I only commented on his looks.”
“Make sure it stays that way.” Somewhere in the mess of twines were her and Uri’s threads. Why oh why couldn’t they be bound together? The same feeling she’d had at the lingerie store came over her. Morta’s skin prickled and grew warm. Shit! “Nony…”
“I feel it sister, Decima will arrive shortly. Together we are stronger.”
“Ladies.”
Morta noticed Nona’s hands shake slightly. Her sister feared nothing but the Lord. What was this? At least she found her voice, something Morta couldn’t do.
“Marmaroth, welcome to our home. It’s been a long, long time.”
His golden hair was pulled back into a severe plait and showed the hard angles of his face. Today he wore black slacks with a white shirt open to show a smattering of hair and myriad color lines crisscrossing his muscular chest. Morta took in the fact that his dark blue eyes sparkled at Nona while his lips curved in a sensuous smile of pleasure.
She was drawn to the latticework of lines on his torso and wanted to see more. Mentally shaking herself, Mort tried unsuccessfully to concentrate. Her sister Fate’s voice sounded far away. What the hell? Their voices droned on and on but she couldn’t understand a word they said. Nona’s cheeks were bright red. Where was Dec? She should have been here by now.
“Morta, last time we crossed paths, your lover wasn’t very nice.”
He was talking to her and she needed to answer, needed to pretend everything was normal.
Thank God Decima appeared. “Marmaroth, I see my sisters have welcomed you to our home. It’s good of you to drop by,” she said.
Morta glared at the angel, acutely aware that although he spoke to her, he remained focused on Nona whose spinning wheel now stood eerily silent.
“It’s always a pleasure to visit with three very lovely women.” Finally, he turned and pierced her and Decima with a strange look.
“How can we assist you?” Dec’s words hung in the air.
“This is a necessary visit, however, there’s no reason to be so on edge.” He glared at Morta.
“What?” Mort’s fist clenched and her nails dug painfully into her palms. The chill she released in the air gave away how tightly she was wound.
“Michael has trained you well. Even as a small child you were the frosty one.” He spun back to Nony who didn’t divert her eyes.
What was going on with her sister and Marmaroth?
“Decima, you understand this must be?”
“What’s he talking about?” Morta’s skin grew a thin sheet of ice. Flinching she looked at her hands and saw shards of ice forming at the tips of her fingers.
“You’d be no match for me so don’t think about it.”
Nony stood and moved slowly around her wheel. Waving in the air, she fashioned a loose black shirt shot through with silver threads and said, “You will be safe. Wear this to keep warm.” She helped Morta don the sparkling shirt and spun on her heels to look at the angel. “Touch a hair on her head, harm her in any way, you will never see the light of day again.” Nona touched the tips of her fingers to Marmaroth’s cheek. “She is my sister.”
He smiled at Nona, took her hand and kissed the very same tips that had rested on his face. “I only need to talk with her alone.” He jumped back and glared at Nona. “That wasn’t necessary.” Smoke drifted from his lips. Still gazing at the Fate who spun life, he added. “I’ve always loved the fire in your soul.”
Before Morta could move, she was whisked into a black hole and carried through the air. She couldn’t see anything and her throat felt constricted. She tried to scream but there was no sound. And there was nothing when she reached with her mind for Uri.
God help me.

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

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Short, tiny - The End

As promised, the end of the short, short, tiny story --

Crossroads

Ignoring the governor’s calls, Little spent the next week talking with Faye over quite a few delicious dinners.
Tonight, he didn’t want to leave. “You’re beautiful.” Many opportunities had arisen to slake his desires yet he found no one as refreshing and sexy as Faye. “Come to my hotel?” She nodded. Lit bumped the table when he stood and knocked over the saltshaker. Bad luck or lousy timing, his phone picked that moment to chirp. Walking around the table, he pulled Faye up and into his arms. “I have to go.”
“Will I see you again?”
The governor first.He kissed her lips softly and whispered, “I want to come back.”
“I’ll be here.”
Turning, Lit strode away from Faye and out the door.

Little was once again escorted to the small office where he paced as he waited.
Shaw arrived, slammed the door closed, and snapped, “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
Lit sucked in a deep breath. “The truth or I’ll discover it on my own.”
“I was told you’d ask no questions.” The body of the man responsible for wresting the state from the brink of bankruptcy crumpled dejectedly into the chair behind his desk. “My son met Faye at a university function and he talked about her incessantly on his last visit home.”
“Go on.”
“He’ll become suspicious if I pry but their involvement is…it’s inappropriate.”
Falling into the seat flanking the desk, Lit clenched and unclenched his fist. “Damn you for thinking she’s not good enough.”
“You misunderstand.” The governor’s hands shook. “Faye is my daughter.”
So much for my stance on need-to-know.
“My wife was sick in the hospital for months before she died. I had a toddler on my hands… Hell, I don’t expect anyone to understand how lonely and scared I was when I sought solace in another woman’s arms.” He closed misty green eyes and sighed. “It doesn’t excuse what we did.”
“What a damn mess.”
Shaw stood and walked to peer out the window. “I need to keep this quiet.”
“What if her mother decides to tell her?”
“She won’t. Faye’s mother never expected anything.” Shoulders slumped. “She’s a real treasure.”
“Trésor.”
“She already worked there. I purchased and had the restaurant redecorated before giving it to her so she wouldn’t return to Birmingham.” Thinning gray hair and a telltale tremble epitomized the dire toll Martin Shaw’s deceitfulness had taken. “She picked the name.” A wan smile tugged his lips as he stared out the window and slipped into the past forgetting about Little Merrick.
“Christ.” Lit left unnoticed. On the drive to his place, he had thought about his two tours in the military after which he used the majority of time to build a solid reputation as a private investigator for anyone willing to purchase his services. Nearing forty, he’d barely made time for the occasional one nightstand but enough money had been amassed to live comfortably for the rest of his days.
Little had reminisced long enough.
He shoved the readdressed envelope containing the governor's last check into his mailbox, raised the tiny red flag, and headed back to Eddystone.
Entering Trésor, Lit grimaced as he conjured the vision in his mind of sitting at the crossroads.
Faye rounded the bar. “I’m glad you came back.”
“So am I, but we need to talk.”
Damn if anything is running over my ass.

Enjoy your weekend and if the opportunity arises –


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