Ander

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ANDER

Disciple's Descendants 1

Ander DeBaptist takes women to his bed satisfying them in every way imaginable. Possessing powers not only to read thoughts, he is able to change a person’s mind. Recruited by The Disciples, Incorporated in an effort to help those less fortunate, he meets one woman he can’t forget and should never touch yet giving her every pleasure he sees in her mind is all Ander thinks about.

Petula Clark desires Ander in a bad way but letting him into her life or her bedroom will spell disaster. Knowing what devastation each disciple’s descendant is capable of, her guardian who owns TD Inc. will never permit one to take Pet the way she craves Ander to have her. Pet senses the disciple’s leader holds tremendous power—enough to destroy any descendant—especially if they hurt her.

Excerpt:

Smack that smile from his face or kiss it away, either would be a dangerous proposition. Careful. Knowing Ander DeBaptist, he would be doing exactly the thing he was warned against.

Reading her mind.

Glad for a reprieve while he went to the restroom, Petula Clark grabbed a folder full of papers and fanned herself. Hunk, yummy, handsome, to die for—all suited Ander to a tee. And talk about a package! The one between his legs would be a present well worth unwrapping. Unraveling his beautiful blond ponytail, have it fan over her face while he stroked inside… Jeez! One night with that man and she’d be happy for life. A dry chuckle drew her attention back to here and now. Lordy, how long had he stood in front of her desk? Ander looked as if he’d just as soon eat her alive as fuck her.

“Ahh, baby girl, the smack or kiss would work for me.” Loosening his hair, fanning it around broad shoulders, Ander leaned close and gazed into her eyes. “As for eating, my Pet, there are parts of you I’d love to taste.” Unnerved by the smile he flashed, Pet’s cheeks grew inflamed. “Let’s skip right to the fuck you part. But first, where is he?”

“Uhh… I don’t…” Midnight blue eyes peering over the counter had her mind in total disarray. A loosened tie revealed three undone buttons and a glimpse of darker hair on a well-tanned chest. Her tongue flicked out, moistened dry lips. “He… He’s in his office.”

“Damn, I hoped you’d have time to open the package.”

The speaker near her elbow crackled sending the folder sailing from Pet’s hand. Papers flew in every direction, fluttering silently to the floor.

“Ander, you should be in the chair in front of me by now.” Of course, Gage knew he was here.

When Ander no longer looked directly at her, she was able to gather herself but not before embarrassment once again sent heat flaring from head to toe. “You’re supposed to stay the hell out of my head, idiot.”

“Babe, I read your mind but, sweet Jesus, the reaction’s all yours.” He leaned forward, “I like it when you’re wet.”

“My name is Petula and I’m not your pet, bastard.”

“Tsk, tsk. The boss know you swear like that?”

“I’m sure he’d like to know you read my mind,” she yelled as he disappeared around the corner. Pet’s panties were wet, and in five more minutes Ander could have convinced her that cows didn’t just jump over the moon, they stayed long enough to carve chunks of cheese... Good God, Pet had unquestionably gone bonkers!

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

Disciple's Descendants

Coming soon:

Disciple's Descendant 1

ANDER

Ander DeBaptist takes women to his bed satisfying them in every way imaginable. Possessing powers not only to read thoughts, he is able to change a person’s mind. Recruited by The Disciples, Incorporated in an effort to help those less fortunate, he meets one woman he can’t forget and should never touch; yet, giving her every pleasure he sees in her mind is all Ander thinks about.

Petula Clark desires Ander in a bad way but letting him into her life or her bedroom will spell disaster. Knowing what devastation each disciple’s descendant is capable of, her guardian who owns TD Inc. will never permit one to take Pet the way she craves Ander to have her. Pet senses the disciple’s leader holds tremendous power—enough to destroy any descendant—especially if they hurt her.

Excerpt:

Smack that smile from his face or kiss it away, either would be a dangerous proposition. Careful. Knowing Ander DeBaptist, he would be doing exactly the thing he was warned against.

Reading her mind.

Glad for a reprieve while he went to the restroom, Petula Clark grabbed a folder full of papers and fanned herself. Hunk, yummy, handsome, to die for—all suited Ander to a tee. And talk about a package! The one between his legs would be a present well worth unwrapping. Unraveling his beautiful blond ponytail, have it fan over her face while he stroked inside… Jeez! One night with that man and she’d be happy for life. A dry chuckle drew her attention back to here and now. Lordy, how long had he stood in front of her desk? Ander looked as if he’d just as soon eat her alive as fuck her.

“Ahh baby girl, the smack or kiss would work for me.” Loosening his hair, fanning it around broad shoulders, Ander leaned close and gazed into her eyes. “As for eating, my Pet, there are parts of you I’d love to taste.” Unnerved by the smile he flashed, Pet’s cheeks grew inflamed. “Let’s skip right to the fuck you part. But first, where is he?”

“Uhh… I don’t…” Midnight blue eyes peering over the counter had her mind in total disarray. A loosened tie revealed three undone buttons and a glimpse of darker hair on a well-tanned chest. Her tongue flicked out, moistened dry lips. “He… He’s in his office.”

“Damn, I hoped you’d have time to open the package.”

The speaker near her elbow crackled sending the folder sailing from Pet’s hand. Papers flew in every direction, fluttering silently to the floor.

“Ander, you should be in the chair in front of me by now.” Of course, Gage knew he was here.

When Ander no longer looked directly at her, she was able to gather herself but not before embarrassment once again sent heat flaring from head to toe. “You’re supposed to stay the hell out of my head, idiot.”

“Babe, I read your mind but, sweet Jesus, the reaction’s all yours.” He leaned forward, “I like it when you’re wet.”

“My name is Petula and I’m not your pet, bastard.”

“Tsk, tsk. The boss know you swear like that?”

“I’m sure he’d like to know you read my mind,” she yelled as he disappeared around the corner. Pet’s panties were wet, and in five more minutes Ander could have convinced her that cows didn’t just jump over the moon, they stayed long enough to carve chunks of cheese... Good God, Pet had unquestionably gone bonkers!

The boss, Gage Harrow, sole owner of The Disciple’s Incorporated, was the only reason she worked for the company. He was the closest thing she had to a father and that, along with managing his affairs, afforded her Gage’s confidence and, above all, his protection. Pet Clark was one of a very small group who had the distinct advantage of knowing what each and every disciple’s descendant was capable of. Ander, always immaculately dressed, mixed very well with society’s upper crust and played with, or just played, the rich and famous. Gage found Ander among such people using his special abilities along with his southern drawl and charming smile to change their lives and minds to maintain his flamboyant lifestyle.

All the disciples were unconventional and weird. Yet, Ander remained the one TD Inc. employee she really wanted to know better. Not a saint by any stretch of the imagination, Pet enjoyed having a good time as well as sex. Like many women, she dreamed of a day when, with the right person and more than just fucking involved, her life would become absolutely perfect. That dream certainly did not include Ander. Hell, not a single descendant could lay claim to a relationship and they unquestionably could not boast of faithfulness. She’d be stupid to expect that of Ander, the most recent of Gage’s recruits.

Worse, letting any one of them into her life or her bedroom would spell disaster.

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

Me, You, and Who!

A ménage coming soon.

Me, You, and Who!

Lise isn’t surprised at how Ron, her husband, gazes at Keaton but she is damned surprised how hot it makes her! The very idea of Ron bent over a table, Keaton’s muscular frame draped over his body taking him hard, fast… Sheesh! Lise can’t breathe thinking about it. Now to convince Ron and Keaton to do what she wants and let her watch. That is another thing altogether. Putting wheels in motion is easier than she dreamed when Lise plans a men’s night of sports on TV and more—much, much more!

**Ménage with MMF**

  Excerpt:

Finished with dishes, Lise moved to the doorway and heard her husband’s husky voice. “Hell, can’t believe he missed that.”

Keaton laughed, “He should have crowded him, right?”

“Stand up. Pretend to go for a shot and I’ll show you what he should have done.”

Pretending to dribble a basketball, Keaton turned left, faded right, and when he straightened to fake a shot, Ron stepped in front of him and jutted his hips into Keaton’s crotch. “Gotcha,” he yelled, hand high in the air blocking what would have been two points.

Damn. Lise watched her husband pressed against their muscular neighbor. Oh. My. God! Her panties grew wet and her heart pounded when it hit her. She wanted to see the men together, wanted to watch them fuck each other’s brains out. Lise barely resisted shoving her hand into her pants and fingering her pussy.

“Shit.” Keaton looked flustered. “Well, work early tomorrow so I gotta run.” He marched quickly to the door, opened it and looked over his shoulder, “Thanks for dinner guys.” The door slammed behind him.

Ron stared at the entrance then swiveled toward Lise, surely before he had time to think, because poking at the front of his slacks was one huge hard-on! “Uhh, hon, I’m heading to bed. Early meeting,” he mumbled. He dashed from the living room and she heard feet pound the stairway.

Lise had no intention of letting this moment get away. She was so hot and bothered she couldn’t breathe. Racing after Ron, she caught him entering their guest bathroom where he probably intended to hide out until he got himself together. She stopped him from closing the door. “Babe, talk to me.”

“It’s not what you think.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“You don’t know what I think.”

“Lise…”

She pushed the door wider, passed him and leaned against the counter. “I like what I saw. You don’t think I’ve watched him since he moved in a year ago? The man’s absolutely hot.”

“You’re freaking nuts.”

Grabbing his waistband, she pulled Ron closer, touched the front of his slacks. He’d grown softer but a bulge remained in evidence and jerked beneath her hand. “I see beauty in women all the time and it doesn’t freak me out.” She massaged until his cock grew hard again.

“Don’t.” His hand gripped hers, yanked it to his chest. “Look, I don’t know what happened down there.”

“I do, I think he’s one sexy bastard. Why shouldn’t you?”

“Christ.” One hand shoved dark hair from his face. “What the fuck, Lise. I’ve never felt anything like that with another man.”

“Feel me.” She unbuttoned her pants, drew his hand toward her and pushed it into damp panties. “I’m so wet, so turned on right now I want you to make me come.” His fingers slipped into the moist crease of her pussy and touched her clit. “Ron, I liked watching you with Keaton. I pictured him, you with him.”

“Fuck… Babe!” His breathing grew labored, fast as he yanked Lise’s slacks down and waited for her to remove them. Ron didn’t stop playing with her pussy but he left her yearning when he snatched his hand from between her legs to undo his pants. Shoving clothes off and kicking them away, he grasped his dick and slid it between her legs.

“Unnhhh, yes,” she moaned as it invaded her vagina. “Ron…Ron…” Lise hadn’t felt this alive or horny in months and all she could think about was how it would be to watch the two men screw. “You wanted him didn’t you?” Ron slammed his cock harder inside her, over and over until she was ready to explode. “Tell me. Let me hear you say it.”

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

Blood and Lust

I WON"T STOP

Layne Indigo threw a racist prick out the window of a high rise office building in White Blood. See what he's up to in the second Triumvirate story, I Won’t Stop

Amazon - Read free on Kindle Unlimited

Ancient blood runs deep and it’s much colder!

Layne Indigo’s existence abounds with extremes—men, women, his own bloodlust, and death. Especially death. He’s a supreme stalker of not only humans but his kind, vampires, some of which are so audacious he relishes ending their lives. Adding to his troubles, he becomes enamored with a cunning woman who hates vamps more than anything and Layne can’t let Emerald “Esme” Franklin out of sight.

Carnage amongst both species has Layne uncertain of his ability to continue as a member of The Triumvirate that rules over vampires. One thing he is sure of after Emerald surrenders her virginity—Layne wants more. Until Esme belongs to him, Layne won’t stop.

A Multicultural/Interracial M/M/F Vampire Romance

Emerald barely finished saying she wanted Layne to be happy before someone snatched her into thin air. When her feet touched the floor, she quickly twisted to see Layne holding a dark haired beauty.

“Julius. You stalk death, my friend.”

“Thought you wanted us here.”

“Eventually, but not…”

“Not me.” Unable to latch on to anger earlier, Emerald garnered more than enough to last a lifetime. She blabbed, “Does she know you slept with me just hours ago?” Layne’s eyes never changed color as he gazed at her. A sure sign he felt no real antagonism toward Julius and he exhibited no remorse over Emerald’s witnessing a lover’s embrace. Why didn’t she feel this way seeing him with Brakius?

“Not yet is how I would have finished had you not interrupted.”

“Bullshit.” Emerald glared at the woman. Honey colored skin glistened as ample breasts rose up and down each time she drew breath. Tall, trim waist and narrow hips, she wore silky black hair in a braid that reached her knees. Loosened, there would be enough to weave at least three heads with shoulder length waves. “Did you hear what I said?” Midnight blue eyes sparkled with amusement. Jealousy blossomed in Emerald’s chest. It burned a bitter path to her throat. “You can have him.” There goes infatuation out the window. Why couldn’t she refrain behaving as if she cared?

The beauty’s head tilted. “I always will young one.”

“Young? Do you know how old that son of a bitch you’re screwing is?”

“To the second. Do you possess this information?”

Had it not been for a sun-bronzed brute popping out of nowhere to stand between her and Layne’s ladylove, Emerald would have scratched the hussy’s eyes out. The newcomer stood nearly as tall as Layne and strawberry blond hair curled just above a back broad enough to block the couple from view.

Air grew chilled as he spoke. “My lady, I thought to give you time with Lord Indigo but your discomfort bid I join you.” Bowing in Layne’s direction, he added, “My liege.”

“I have asked you not use such terms when addressing me. They come from a disfavored time and place.” Icy drafts buffeted Emerald. “My father was but an African warrior who stumbled into India following some jackass lost from the second Crusade. No matter. I’ve no right to his Lord’s allegiances, feudal or otherwise, nor do I want them.” Prevented from viewing Layne, Emerald gathered displeasure shone in his eyes taking into account his gruffness. “I will not remind you of this again.”

“Apologies, my lor… Layne.”

“Enough.” The giant stood rooted to his spot as Layne’s woman emitted forced laughter that floated around the being she now recognized as vampire. Before his arrival, warmth had filled her and Layne’s suite. “Sit down, Loch.”

No more than three strides carried him to a barstool where he perched and scrutinized Emerald through bottle green eyes. Able to observe Layne after Loch moved, Emerald noticed red briefly swirl in his eyes. His female friend must be human and she didn’t give the impression of being a day over thirty. Certainly not old enough to call her young. “Evidently your lover takes pleasure in youthful brown skinned human women.” Resentment laced Emerald’s words.

“I’m well aware of his predilection but he found one he treasures.”

“Good luck with that.” Their banter seemed to fascinate Layne who barely took his eyes from Emerald. “I’m sure it’s not me you should be looking at.” She hoped her words cut deep. “Like all vampires, you’re a whore.” Searching out Julius who remained unusually quiet, she noticed he wore a perplexed look. They were all creepy, cold jackasses. She demanded, “Take me home.”

“You are not leaving.” Layne did not intend to let her go. “You reside with me.”

She crossed to where he stood. “If you think for one second I plan to…

“Reside with me and my mother? Yes. I do.”

“God Almighty,” Julius whispered. “The third Triumvirate.”

Layne smiled in his friend’s direction. “Juls, meet Piara Kaur Indigo and her guard, Loch Christian. He tugged Emerald forward, possessively manipulating her so her back rested against his chest. His arm wrapped around her. “Close your mouth, honey, you might catch a fly.”

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

Make Me Right

MAKE ME RIGHT

Dirty Rotten Vampires 5

Now available at Changeling Press

She begged him to show mercy, but could she make him right?

Blurb:

Denton Blackstone is a monster, one the world will surely fear. Not even Jordan Scott knows his darkest secret. After she stumbles upon him injured on a hiking trail and takes him home, he turns into her most ferocious protector. Becoming her lover, Denton continues to hide behind the cover of being human though he knows something inside him is rapidly changing and it begins to take its toll.

Jordan Scott isn’t afraid of the largest black hound she’d ever seen; in fact, she takes him home. When he begins to escape nightly, she’s afraid he might attack a human. Little does she know her life is entwined with the beast’s destiny and his deadly need will change her forever.

Excerpt:

Hands shot around her waist to steady her. "Easy there." His silky voice seemed to slide down every inch of her tall frame leaving Jordan putty in his large hands. "Why such a hurry?"

"I-I'm, looking for my dog."

One hand left her body to remove sunglasses he shoved into his breast pocket. "How long has he been missing?" Fingers made their way back to rest on her hips, both hands tightened ever so slightly. "You are... ?"

"I'm Jordan." Over six-foot-tall with black hair he surely had styled and a close cut, neatly trimmed beard highlighted a strong, angular jawline. He dressed like a million bucks.

After scrutinizing him head to toe, even she could tell his suit was hand-made. What was he doing exiting a smelly, dirty alley? His eyes were the color of warm cognac. She thought red at first but who has red eyes? When he gazed at Jordan, she grew wet with desire and she didn't resist when he eased her close enough to feel rock-hard abs and muscular thighs brushing hers. "I'm sorry, have we met before?" No sign of Blackie but maybe she'd found something else to occupy her time. Jordan had lived alone for years. There had been men, but none she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Some one-night stands peppered her history, but there had been no one on her radar recently. She blamed that void for her wanton reaction to tall, dark, and handsome. The strangest sense of deja vu settled over her as she gazed into his eyes. Jordan felt she knew him as her ankle began to pulsate.

"You can get to know me better if you have dinner with me." Even white teeth flashed when he smiled.

Lord, had he read her mind? "Umm... yes, sure, I'd like that." Sharp, attentive eyes drank her in and Jordan tumbled headlong into their depths forgetting everything.

"I'm Denton Blackstone."

And of course I had to play with a video!

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

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Hurt Me Good

Dirty Rotten Vampires 1

Hurt Me Good

2nd Edition available now: Changeling Press
Pre-order: Amazon; B&N; Kobo

A cold heart plus hot blood sweetens the pain.

Blurb:

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

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

Excerpt:

She’d only learned about the demon blood a few months ago. Hell, she didn’t want to sprout horns or grow a tail. She had witnessed firsthand what a diseased demi-vamp looked like when she hunted with Split. The ragged teeth and yellow skin made her sick.

“Guess I’m not the only one in the room who kills demi-vamps.”

She spun to catch him watching her from the doorway. “Fuck you.”

“Please.”

“Oooh! Go to hell.”

“A place more suitable to your kind.” Armada didn’t grasp the meaning of his glare. Ringer’s voice grew softer. “Come eat, I cooked.”

“Why when you could fabricate it.”

“Because I like to cook and fabricated doesn’t taste as good.”

“Probably tastes like shit.”

Red circled his violet eyes. She understood that look having seen it often when Split became irritated. “You can let me know; I’ve never tasted shit.” She reached for a vase on the table and lifted it to hurl at his head. “Can you afford to replace that? I will take it out in trade.”

“God, I hate you.”

“Living with me is easier once you understand my rules.”

“I’m not living with you.”

“Yeah, you are.” He strode to stand beside her seat. “One, don’t throw my shit around; two, eat what I cook or fabricate your own shit.” He wrapped a curl of her hair around his finger. “Three, when we fuck, we do it my way or not at all.”

Standing, she walked past him and turned. “I like not at all.”

“Honey, you’ll be in my bed by nightfall.”

“Doubtful.”

He walked to where she stood. “Linen closet is at the top of the stairs. You’ll need bedclothes for the sofa.”

“You only have one bedroom?” She glanced around the space for the first time. Expensive antiques dotted shiny plank wood floors. The furniture was masculine and in a mix of dark chocolate and red hues. Large windows remained bare of curtains. Probably a voyeuristic jackass. The living room was large and bright. Good thing there was no truth to the fact vampires could only move around at night. Sunlight streamed in the window. “One bedroom?” From the floor plan, she knew upstairs held more than a single room, unless, of course, it was a damn large room.

He laughed and looked over his shoulder. “Only one you can enter.”

“Bastard.”

“Hope you like baked chicken.” He grinned. “With lots of garlic.”

“I’ll fix a salad.”

She reached the kitchen in time to see him fork a breast and a thigh onto a plate. He followed the chicken with a large dollop of mashed potatoes. “Do I look like a salad fixings kind of guy to you?”

“Jesus.” She yanked open the refrigerator door and peered inside. Closing her eyes, she attempted to bring salad greens to Barringer’s house. Nothing. She could transport, but that was with Split’s help, and right now, he seemed absent from her head. One day she’d get the hang of vampire tricks and be able to use them by herself. Spying an old, spotted apple, she grabbed it. “This will do.”

“Whatever.” He bit into the meat and chewed for a minute. That was followed by a big helping of potatoes. After he’d swallowed the food, he took a sip of white wine. He gazed at her with his head tilted. “You’re thick enough to miss one meal.”

The apple slammed dead in the center of his plate sending the chicken flying into his lap and mashed potatoes covering the front of his shirt.

Chapter Two

Barringer slowly unbuttoned his shirt as he watched fear take her eyes from red to violet and back. “Come here.” He compelled her across the kitchen tile. Her sneakers screeched as she attempted to resist.

“Don’t you…”

“I did warn you about playing with fire, honey.”

Her bronze skin glistened under the lights. A strong desire to lick and bite into her neck, to taste her demi-vamp blood, filled his loins with a need he had not acknowledged for decades.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Would you prefer ma chérie?”

She considered vanishing but couldn’t without Split’s help. As Armada continued to slide toward him, he noticed her gaze rested on his nipple rings. Ringer would humor her, let her believe he thought she could vanish. “Don’t make me chase you through the atmosphere; you really won’t like it when I drag your ass back here.”

“Please!”

When she stood by his chair, he turned it, and pulled her across his lap. Yanking down her shorts, he rubbed her ass cheeks and felt his cock harden. She was a goddamn demi-vamp; why did he want her so badly? Raising his hand, he delivered a sharp smack to her buttocks. When she squirmed, he groaned. The smell of her womanhood permeated his nostrils. Another solid whack made her moan as she gyrated her pelvis against his crotch.

“So beautiful, honey.” Seeing his print on her buttocks pulled a spurt of cum from his dick. “You wanted this.” Thwack. The sound echoed through the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

“Then I’ll stop.”

“Barringer… I… unnhhh.” Her hips pushed against him.

“Or would you like me to continue?” He caressed her enflamed skin with his fingertips, rubbed his palm softly across the reddened cheeks. “Shit, I want to fuck you.” Moving his hand between her legs, he felt wetness there. “You’re wet.”

“Please, don’t stop.”

“Open your legs for me.”

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

Dirty Rotten Vampires

Make Me Right

Dirty Rotten Vampires 5

Coming soon to Changeling Press

She begged him to show mercy, but could she make him right?

Blurb:

Denton Blackstone is a monster, one the world will surely fear. Not even Jordan Scott knows his darkest secret. After she stumbles upon him injured on a hiking trail and takes him home, he turns into her most ferocious protector. Becoming her lover, Denton continues to hide behind the cover of being human though he knows something inside him is rapidly changing and it begins to take its toll.

Jordan Scott isn’t afraid of the largest black hound she’d ever seen; in fact, she takes him home. When he begins to escape nightly, she’s afraid he might attack a human. Little does she know her life is entwined with the beast’s destiny and his deadly need will change her forever.

Excerpt:

“911, where’s your emergency?”

“Fleetwood Street. It’s a…a… Jesus, I don’t know!” The stranger’s phone clattered to the pavement.

“Sir? Hello?”

“Help me!”

Controlling heat in his eyes, eyes Denton knew would be red, struggling to hold back horns painfully pushing from his skull, he grasped the man’s neck. “For every drop of blood each animal lost, I will take the same from you.” Lifting the culprit a foot in the air, he slammed him against the wall.

The man wheezed, “Don…don’t.”

“I can’t understand you.”

An emergency operator’s voice squawked from the abandoned phone lying near Denton’s feet. Long, ragged teeth slipped from his gums and he salivated.

“Oh Jesus!”

“We located you via GPS. Help is on the way.”

Loosening his grip, Denton allowed the piece of shit to breathe. Spittle splashed his cheeks when the jackass yelled, “I won’t ever do it again! Please… I…”

The operator’s voice continued, “Is there someone with you?”

“I know you won’t.” Denton leaned closer. He wanted to slip into the furry animal he’d always been. Something stopped him, held him fast in his new human form. He preferred his dog to this cold, hairless… The other thing he knew came straight from Hell. What new horror contaminated him?

“Nooo…”

“Sir? Are you there? Hello? Hello?”

“Stop!”

Jordan! Denton dropped the man at the sound of one voice that could beg for his mercy, stop him from releasing a creature who was no longer in his total control. Until now he’d kept what he was hidden from her. He called himself a man in this form but he knew he was something else. Especially when mental telepathy started and horny knots came and went on his head. How had she snuck up on him when, now, all he smelled was her? He pivoted. “I can’t hide anymore.” Glancing at the trembling man huddled on the ground overwhelmed him with an odd thirst. Not so much for blood this time. Denton wanted his soul.

Forget him, see only her. Brown, shoulder length hair drawn into a severe ponytail, long legs, thick thighs and wide hips. Pouty lips he loved tasting were bare of color. The dirty, foul smelling alley was cool, damp, causing her nipples to poke material of her thick cotton tee as her ample breasts rose with each intake of air. “Jordan.”

“What the…?”

Under the street lamp, he took in rapidly blinking hazel eyes. “Forgive me.”

“What are you?”

“Something you should never see,” he whispered weakly. To no avail, he begged what grew inside him not to do this in front of her. He pulled the creep back up and snarled, “Satan has a special place for you.” He sank jagged incisors into the bastard’s neck and prepared to yank his jugular out before the stranger fainted. Denton wanted him to feel pain.

“Denton, don’t, please.” She pleaded, “Stop.”

Teeth ached as he struggled to withdraw.

Who, what sought to control his mind now? Where was the one who made him and why hadn’t he surfaced again? Which culprit had secreted information in his psyche on how to survive in his new body? How to fashion clothing and other items he required, how to wrest another man’s ideas away from him, even change their philosophies. Who had led him to the place he now called home and left him with enough money to begin what could only be a miserable existence? A new thirst demanding to be quenched rode him relentlessly.

            Where the fuck are you? Denton’s words, screamed inside his head, were silent to the rest of the city but to him, they were loud, and so very painful.

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