Sunday, September 23, 2018

Come on in...

Take a look around—feel the heat! CLUB EVOLVE is on sale for .99ȼ. Seven (7) great stories for an awesome price. Sale ENDS 9/30/18.


There is never a chill in the air at CLUB EVOLVE. Grab your copy today for .99ȼ. Snuggle up, stay warm, and meet Pierce James from BOY IS PRETTY:

How do you give back what you asked for?

Pierce James asked a friend to introduce him to Sanders Cain, but he didn’t ask to be belittled by the prissy bastard. Nor was he interested in having his old college roommate’s leftovers, and if it meant curtailing his visits to club Evolve—so be it. Somewhere in Los Angeles is another place he can seek what he desires. Pierce only had to find it, and then hope the face and voice of Sanders didn’t go there with him.

EXCERPT:
One weekend, one lousy freaking weekend off and Evolve’s entertaining the Pope.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Sanders, he was a priest, not the goddamn Pope.”
Zedidiah Mandrake owned Evolve and happened to be Sanders Cain’s boss both here and at Drake Corp. “It isn’t right to allow a man of the church to have access to Evolve’s private rooms.”
“Are you espousing discrimination?” Zed pivoted to order a drink before adding, “I should have never divulged Pierce’s business.”
“A priest, Zed. Furthermore, I understand your jean and tee shirt wearing thug has become a regular fixture here a few times a month.”
“He’s not my anything, and thug is a bit over the top even for you. Pierce could damn near buy Drake Corp if he wanted.” Zed ran a hand through his hair just as Kerr walked up. “Kerr, talk some sense into him.”
“I’d be careful what this Pierce person does for a living.”
“Sanders, he went to university with Zed, and they’re in the same business.” Kerr laughed. “I do agree, however, Evolve’s dress code should be taken seriously.”
“I’m done with this, let’s go.” Sanders watched as Zed downed his drink and prepared to leave.
“Aren’t we going to wait for Pierce?” Kerr rested a hand on Zed’s arm. “You should introduce him to Sanders before we leave.”
“What! Oh God, I’m not interested in meeting anyone who dresses so shabbily.”
“You’re right. Pierce isn’t someone you should meet.”
“Lord knows, he’s probably out there right now planning his next heist.”
“I’m sure.” Zed’s lips curled into a smile. “Of course, Pierce’s day job is just a front for all kinds of foul play.”
“Did I hear my name?” Sanders spun to look into serious blue eyes. “Shabby? Really?”
He twisted to glower at his boss. “You knew he was behind me?”
“I couldn’t resist.” Zed reached to shake Pierce’s hand. “Pierce James, meet Sanders Cain.” Sanders wanted to sink through the floor when Zed told Pierce, “You missed the part where he called you a thug.”
“That I can live with because, hell, might still be true.” Pierce’s eyes blazed. “But shabby.” Hands motioned up and down his body, “What I’m wearing would cost you a month’s wages, you snotty prick.”
That got Sander’s ire up. “You arrogant SOB, you don’t know what I make?”
“I know how stingy Zedidiah can be.”
“Both of you kiss my ass. Kerr, let’s go.”
“Zed, you are not going to leave this… This criminal…”
Criminal?” Pierce grabbed Sanders by the arms and pulled him against his body. “You feel my cock?” He kissed Sanders so hard; he drew blood when their mouths smashed together. He forced his tongue through lips Sanders failed to keep closed. Deep, long, a kiss that spit fire into his lungs as it robbed him of air. When he thrust Sanders backward, cold, blue eyes assessed him. “If it somehow finds its way up your ass, I’d cut it the fuck off.”
* * * * *
Pierce walked with Zed and Kerr to the door. “What the fuck were you thinking, Zed?”
“Hey, you wanted to meet the elusive Sanders.”
“Yeah, well, big mistake. Highly unlikely I’ll continue to come here if there’s the slightest chance of running into his ass again.”
“Bullshit.” Zed winked. “You’ll spend the rest of the night trying to get into that pretty boy’s pants.” He took two steps toward the door and stopped. “Nice suit by the way.”
“Screw you, Zed.” His friend left him standing inside Evolve’s door, mouth agape. “Goddamn it.” Pierce whipped angrily around and headed to get a drink. To think he dressed up to meet the fussy jackass. Sanders stood at one end of the bar talking with Jim, the regular weekend bartender. Pierce strolled to the opposite end of the bar. “Wish this damn thing was longer,” he mumbled under his breath. He scowled toward Sanders and observed his dark head bent to listen to something Jim said. Light behind the bar revealed a curl of almost black hair fall forward and Pierce watched him sweep a hand he knew would be soft across his forehead to nudge the tendril away from his handsome face.
Not in this lifetime would I fuck his prissy ass. But oh, the pretty motherfucker had Pierce’s cock on the rise.
Another bartender approached and slid one of Evolve’s coveted key cards across the bar. “Zed ordered champagne for you.”
“Bastard.” Pierce could stand here and simmer or he could go to the private room and collect himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this angry. Shit, he’d worn one of his best suits to meet Sanders, and Zed assured him the elusive manager looked forward to getting to know him. “Lying piece of shit.” Taking a deep breath, Pierce walked around the bar toward the entrance of Evolve’s private rooms. He had to pass Sanders on the way but he damn sure wasn’t going to give him satisfaction of making eye contact.
Pierce slid the card through the slot, grunted at the guard, and made his way to the room Zed had given him for the night. If he had paid for it, he’d definitely seek a refund. Damn it to hell, Pierce liked Evolve, but if the saucy prick said anything else offensive, he’d deck his ass and face the consequences.
“Christ.” Pierce flopped into a sumptuous wing backed chair beside the table holding the champagne bucket. Reaching for the bottle, he opened it and poured a flute full of golden liquid. Zed only served the best in his club so Pierce knew he wouldn’t be disappointed yet after taking a few sips, he found himself wanting something stronger. Pierce pressed a red button located on the phone and leaned back to wait for a server. He rested his eyes until he heard a light knock. “Come in.” The electric lock clicked open and Pierce turned his head to see Sanders waiting just inside. “Shit, don’t tell me I have to deal with your…”
“Call me a snotty prick again I’ll smack you from here to hell.”
“What the fuck did you say?”
“You heard me. Our regular server became ill and left. What can I get for you?”
Pierce stood and covered the distance in a few strides to where Sanders waited. “You can get the hell out.”
“Okay by me, but if you need anything, I’ll be bringing it.”
“Can you find me a real man?”
“Ooh…ooh… You motherfucker.” Sanders balled his right hand into a fist and swung.
Pierce stopped it midair. “Try something that stupid one more time and I’ll…” What? What the fuck was he going to do? Zed wouldn’t allow him to walk through the door ever again if he hit anyone in Evolve who wasn’t paying to be spanked. He’d certainly kick Pierce’s ass if he harmed a hair on Sanders’ head.
“Let me go you…you...” Blue eyes sparked with anger as Pierce held his fist trapped.
“Thug?” He remembered Zed’s stories about Sanders who was years younger, how he had protected him growing up because other boys bullied him. Pierce grew up in a tough neighborhood, and yeah, he was rowdy most of his life, but thug? Those days were long gone. His company damn near carried as much influence as Drake Corp did in the area of real estate, and he didn’t need to be a bully anymore. Pierce studied the man. So fucking sweet. Had Zed lied when he said he had never made a play for Sanders? “Did you ever fuck Zed?” Pierce released Sanders hand fairly sure he wouldn’t try that approach again.
“Excuse me?”
“Zed, did you and Zed ever fuck?” If they had, Pierce wouldn’t touch the man. One thing he had vowed never to do—have Zedidiah Mandrake’s leftovers. Pierce’s self-imposed rule left the playing field slim when they attended university together. Zed attracted men like a magnet. Every size, shape and color. Unfortunately, Pierce and he had the same taste and Sanders fit that bill perfectly. Why the hell was he considering touching Sanders?
“That is none of your business.”
Prissy bitch may have well added sir. “I’m making it my business.” No. No. No.
“You can go screw yourself, Mr. James.”
“But I’d rather screw you.” Aww, shit! Eyes filled with mortification, his slight frame shook with indignity at Pierce’s affront as hands clenched and unclenched at his side. Christ, his cheeks turning pink served to make Sanders even more attractive to the part of Pierce he considered a thug. He was right—enough of the old Pierce still existed to take what he wanted. “I’ll fuck you much better than he did.”
“If you lay a finger on me, I’ll tell Zed.”
“Will you tell him how well my dick filled your ass?” Pierce stepped closer and touched his cheek. “So fucking pretty.” Reaching behind Sanders’ neck, Pierce pulled him into another violent kiss just as hard as the one they experienced earlier. Somehow, this one carried more heat; it satisfied Pierce much more causing him to groan when Sanders’ permitted him access to his mouth and tangled his tongue with Pierce’s in a fierce fight for supremacy.
What happened next shocked the shit out of Pierce.
The last glimpse he’d had of Sanders’ hands, they were clenched at his side so when Pierce felt one grip his nuts hard, he damn near dropped to one knee. “Ow-oww, goddamn you!”
“You won’t have to cut it off if I tear it off for you.”

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

Saturday, September 22, 2018

Fall Fell

And the men from CLUB EVOLVE just keep coming...

Celebrate Fall falling—CLUB EVOLVE is on sale for .99ȼ!
Seven (7) great stories for an awesome price.


Couldn’t stop Fall from coming—neither could the men of CLUB EVOLVE stop… Well, grab your copy for .99ȼ. Sale ENDS 9/30/18.

At club Evolve there are no closed doors. These guys want their men soft, consenting, and ready when they are. So, come in—feel the heat!

Meet Robert ‘War’ Warren from SEE ME IN THE DARK.

Scars so deep—will they destroy his soul?

Preston Woodley only comes alive in the dark, on his back, and he never allows anyone to touch him there. He longs to find someone who sees him for the man he is and not a monster shaped by a horrible accident in his past.

Robert ‘War’ Warren, recruited into the biker lifestyle early, has done it all and he doled out enough payback to earn a brief stint in jail. He’s reached a pinnacle of success and seeks peace; however, what he used to be, what he could easily become again, may ruin his life forever.

EXCERPT:
War never asked what Preston did for a living as his first concern was bedding him. Christ, he knew so little about the man and what he did know he… Hell! He liked him. He didn’t give an inch when War gave him crap that first night because Pres looked shocked he attended university. Fuck’s sake, the way War dressed, the way he acted, anyone may have produced the same facial contortion. He resurfaced Friday and held his ground again. What was his problem being seen by a lover?
“Son of a bitch, now he’s my lover.”
Air whistled through the nose of a woman beside him. “Hello! I have children here.”
“Excuse me.” War situated himself behind a larger crowd. Unable to hear everything due to various game calls, sporadic yelling, and people clapping, but what he did hear made him smile. Pres was knowledgeable, direct, and he looked damn good in a crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows. His brown hair wasn’t sprayed to death because each time a breeze lifted, it blew out of style. He calmly ran his hand through it and kept right on talking. No makeup either. He was handsome as hell without it.
Ten minutes and they were done.
While the camera man packed equipment, the girl shared notes with Preston and when finished, she hopped into the van which backed away from the boardwalk. Pres more than likely drove himself because he remained and when he went to reach for his jacket on the back of a chair, a tall guy barreling backward to save a shot plowed into him sending him sprawling to the ground.
Once he helped him up, he began brushing Pres’ clothes off. When he reached his back, Preston cringed but the man insisted on dusting him off. The same look of fear War noticed in his eyes at Evolve had returned. Preston’s feet carried him backward and the jackass pursued him.
War had seen enough. In five long strides he was near the fucker who he heard say, “I’m sorry, dude, let me get the sand off you.”
“I’m fine.” Preston’s jacket was on the ground and he kept moving in reverse. “It’s okay.” He looked around. “My jacket. I need my jacket.”
War grabbed the coat on his way to Preston. He heard the jangle of keys. “I got it, Pres, it’s okay.”
He looked into War’s eyes and exhaled in relief. “My keys?”
“They’re right here. I got you,” he whispered. Had the man gone back to the game, it would have ended there. He returned and when Preston shrunk away as the bastard attempted to throw an arm around his shoulder, War decked him. That brought on the crowd. This was going to get real ugly if War didn’t shut them down. “He’s okay, I’m a friend.”
One big guy in the back said, “Yeah, and I’m his friend. You didn’t have to hit him.”
“I’m sorry. Shit if I am. My friend was flustered by his attention and I overreacted. We’re going to leave and let you get back to the game.”
“Leaving, my ass.”
War faced Preston. “My car is one block past the ice cream parlor on the corner. Here are my keys. It’s a black Rover. Wait for me there.”
“War, I’m okay. Please, let’s go.”
“It’s not that easy.” It never is for me. Two or three guys began to close in. “Go.”
Preston backed away and War whirled on the group. “You know what. I’m never sorry. I’ll hit him again if he ever gets his lanky ass up. One of two things will occur. You take me down or I beat you senseless. My money is on number two.”
“What did you say?” Big guy moved to stand toe to toe with War. “You surfer types don’t own the beach and you’re not that tough.” He shoved him.
War knocked him out. “Fucker. Not spending my day talking to your ass.” Twisting, he saw a shapely woman in a bikini holding up her cell phone. “Jesus.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Pres was gone. No sign of him and the other two guys had decided to high tail it away.
Two bike patrolmen cruised up. “Is there a problem?”
The woman answered, “Officers, I recorded it all on video. Those three guys threatened this man. He was only defending himself.” She grinned ear to ear. “I’m going to put it on line and call it Venice Beach Knockout.”
Fuck me to tears!
* * * * *
“Pres, you okay.”
“Damn you, War, you didn’t have to hit him.”
“I get it. I overreacted but are you alright?”
“Yes. This is my job and it could well be at stake here.”
“Nobody will see you. Before the phones started recording you were gone.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Goddamn it, Pres, I wasn’t going to let him touch you again. The look on your face startled me and I only wanted to protect you.”
“Protect me? Your bravado attempt at manliness may cost me my job.”
“I’m sor… Attempt at manliness? Are you kidding me? Guess what, Pres, I’m not sorry. The next time I’ll let him manhandle your ass into Hell. Where are you parked?”
“I’ll walk, thank you.”
“Tell me where you parked, damn it. Trust me, you won’t see me again.”
“I’m in the Ladot Lot.”
They reached the lot and as Preston got out War demanded, “Why can everyone in the fucking world touch you but me?”

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

Friday, September 21, 2018

Fall is Falling

And I'm having a sale - CLUB EVOLVE is .99ȼ!

I dislike Fall as much as I do Winter. That being said—I’ll feel better by helping you feel better as Fall arrives! CLUB EVOLVE ebook is on sale for .99ȼ. Seven great stories for an awesome price. Sale ends 9/30/18 when it will return to its original price of $5.99. So, grab your copy now.


At club Evolve there are no closed doors. These guys want their men soft, consenting, and ready when they are. So, come in—feel the heat!

Did you meet Zedidiah Mandrake from Fix Me?

One night more was one too many.

Zedidiah Mandrake lived for one-night stands. Screw them and leave them is his motto and it worked until he took Kerr Carmichael home. Handsome as hell and vulnerable, Kerr wore his heart on his sleeve. Zed knew in a matter of time, he’d hurt him and he made it very clear he was not relationship material. Kerr played it cool; however, Zed went after him with vengeance each time he yearned to touch him, have Kerr in a way Zed wanted no one else to enjoy. Those times grew closer and closer together.

Still, Zed warned Kerr—you can’t fix me.

EXCERPT:
Kerr didn’t want to deal with crap today and if Danton Perry caused any, this time he’d finish it. He’d worked the Drake account for a year now, and the bastard was a real pain in the ass who deserved to have a fist jammed down his throat. Thank God Kerr wasn’t as hotheaded as Drake’s assistant marketing manager, Sanders Cain, who would have performed the feat last Friday if Kerr hadn’t pulled him out of the conference room. “Should have left him have a go at the prick.”
Monday, Carmichael and Carmichael had received a call from Nat Jansen, Drake’s COO, apologizing and he requested Kerr come back in on Wednesday. Kerr arrived early and sat in the lobby staring into the street.
He’d been unable to wipe Friday night and Zedidiah from his mind.
Kerr had not realized he grunted aloud remembering Zed’s comment about being able to walk to his car until a young woman standing by his seat said, “Excuse me?”
“Nothing, sorry.”
“They’re ready for you, sir.”
Drake Corp gobbled up dying business, leveled the buildings, and sold resultant parcels off in pieces at a very high price. Public relations was important to keep surrounding communities from complaining about strip malls popping up overnight. Kerr had to admit Drake did better than most by developing green spaces for parks and trails helping to separate neighborhoods from the malls.
Entering the conference room, he nodded in Danton’s direction, and then spoke to Nat and Sanders. “Gentlemen.” Wasn’t yet sure about Danton until he saw how things progressed.
Danton seemed in a hurry. “Let’s get this over with.”
Nat cleared his throat. “We’re waiting for one more.”
“Who?”
Kerr opened his portfolio and browsed papers oblivious to Danton’s distress. He froze when he heard the voice.
“Mr. Carmichael, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Zedidiah Mandrake, you already know Danton who, as you’ve discovered, is an inappropriate son of a bitch that I have to deal with daily.”
“Zed, I handle marketing.”
“Not anymore.”
“Why, damn it?”
Kerr looked around and noticed Sanders biting back a smile while Nat squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
“Because it’s my company. You’re here as a favor to mother, nothing more.”
“You…you…”
“Say it, Danton. In fact, I’ll help you. Let me see, maybe cock sucking bitch.” Zed rounded the table. “Or faggot.”
Nat stood. “Zed, don’t.”
“I hear those words come out your mouth once more; you’ll need a full set of dentures.” He grinned maliciously at his brother. “Just like your daddy. Now get the fuck out.” Danton slammed the door so hard pictures shook on the wall. “Nat, Sanders, give me a minute alone with Mr. Carmichael.”
Mandrake—Drake. The door had barely shut before Kerr asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You left too quickly and, shit, Kerr…”
“I know. A one-night stand.”
“That’s not it.”
Zedidiah Mandrake was worth billions, most likely more. Much more. “I thought Danton Perry owned Drake Corporation.”
“I was seven when my father died. He had a very successful contracting business and left a tidy sum to put me through school and take care of my mom very well. A few years later, my mother remarried. Danton’s, my half-brother.”
“Did you need to be that harsh?”
“My inheritance helped to start Drake Corporation, but I built it from the ground up. It’s mine. The way I see it—I wasn’t hard enough.” Kerr watched a storm gather in Zed’s eyes. “Danton becomes more like his father every fucking day.” He shrugged and walked to stand in front of Kerr. “I wish you hadn’t witnessed this bullshit and I hope you forget it.”
Kerr had witnessed a dark side of Zedidiah. What happened between him and his stepfather to make him tremendously bitter toward the man?
Standing toe-to-toe with Zed, he felt a rush of heat to his crotch. Glancing down, he realized Zed experienced a similar predicament. Kerr wanted to touch him, give some sort of comfort. Jesus, why? He brushed the front of Zed’s slacks before leaning to kiss him; a kiss he thought would be short and sweet. Turned out to be the hottest, soul-searching lip lock Kerr had ever experienced. Their tongues tangled, fought, and surrendered as they dipped into corners seeking something more.
Zed grabbed him around the waist and shoved him against the table. “Damn, I could take you right here.”
“Not a good idea.”
“Why?” Zed stepped back and watched him.
“One night.”
“I didn’t count on seeing you again.”
“Does it make a difference?” What did Kerr want to hear?
“No.” He backed away and ran a hand through his hair. “Understand something, Kerr, I’m not good for you.” He pierced Kerr with a steely look. “I’m not good for anyone.”
Kerr had seen him run his hand nervously through his hair on another occasion. At Evolve, when he wasn’t sure Kerr would go home with him. “Shouldn’t that be my choice?”
Zed turned and strode to the end of the room. He touched a phone button and Kerr heard, “Tell Nat and Sanders the meeting is canceled, and I don’t want to be disturbed.” He moved to sit at the head of the table. “Come here.”
Don’t go, don’t go to him. Words Kerr should probably heed but his feet disobeyed as they carried him across the floor.

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

Friday, September 14, 2018

Controlled

Meet Harm Germaine from CONTROLLED, part of the Shepherd’s Watch box set which can be found at the following outlets… Ooh, ooh, it’s ON SALE at Changeling!

Changeling Press: https://tinyurl.com/ybjrltck

CONTROLLED
Harm Germaine is an alpha in training who embraces his ability to be man or dog. Meeting his mate,
who happens to be human, gives him second thoughts about what he is and finding a way to tell her causes the always-in-control alpha to lose control.

Elle Naylor’s caught his scent and can’t get it or Harm out of her mind. Strong and stubborn, Elle knows she’s found the one man who can make her life complete.

1st COMMENT, I'll have Changeling send you a PDF of Shepherd's Watch.
2nd COMMENT, a PDF of Can't Touch This with Fia's Wolf.

A stray shepherd, a series of accidental mishaps, and Harm becomes sure of one thing: Elle loves dogs!

But will she love him when she finds out that’s exactly what he is?

Interracial Romance

I have the original cover!




Excerpt:
Hell wouldn’t have seemed like a bad proposition to the asshole lying in the stagnant, garbage-strewn water had he known he was dealing with monsters.
“Oh, God, please!” Boots scraped asphalt in the alley as the jerk tried to scoot away.
“Aww, hell no.” Looming over six feet tall, Court grabbed the miscreant’s shirt collar and shoved his face into the slimy puddle beside the dumpster. Straddling the bloodied man, he asked, “You did not just take the Lord’s name in vain?”
“Let him go, man.” Not only was Harm late checking in with a very important client, he was tired, hungry and cold. Changing, covering his body in fur, would solve the latter, but it was too late. Why did they have to run into this son of a bitch manhandling his girlfriend? The woman silently huddled in the dimly lit corner of their apartment building. A few minutes earlier, a few later, this sordid situation would have gone unnoticed. “He’s a coward. I don’t think he’ll come back around here.” Harm strode over, took hold of the man and snatched him to his feet. “Am I right?”
“You can have the bitch, please, just let me go.”
“Jackass, you said one word too many.” Harm drew back and cold-cocked the bastard. Lifting him high, he told Court, “Open the dumpster. He can go out with tomorrow’s trash.” The unconscious body bumped loudly on the bottom where he’d be found in the morning by sanitation workers.
“Hey, stop, don’t put him in there!”
Turning in unison, the brothers gaped. Court spoke up. “Lady, your boyfriend was getting ready to seriously kick your ass.”
Belongings from her purse lay scattered on the pavement. Watching her stoop down to collect them, Harm’s head tilted quizzically. “Are you kidding?” She couldn’t possibly be upset at how they handled the creep.
“First off, he’s not my boyfriend. The dirty rotten sucker stole my wallet with my credit cards and money. It’s in his back pocket.” Straightening, she glared angrily in the direction of the trash container. “You arrived in time to prevent anything else.”
“Glad we could help.” Harm twisted toward Court. “Get the wallet.”
“You think I’m climbing into that stink hole?” Court’s hands dusted his still immaculate jacket, brushed at his pants and pinched the razor-sharp crease. “Brother, you’ve lost your goddamn mind.”
“Jesus Christ, get the wallet.”
“I’m not getting in there, Harm. No way.”
“Oh hell, both of you shut the fuck up.” Short legs ate up the distance from the wall to the dumpster. “And you’re both blasphemous idiots. Talk about taking the Lord’s name in vain. I’ll get it myself.”
Before Harm could move, she’d grabbed the container’s lip and hiked a luscious, petite body over the edge. His jaw dropped and he glared at Court. “She just jumped in the trash.”
“Good, because I wasn’t going in there.”
They spun toward the dumpster when they heard a loud smack. “Take my fucking wallet?” Another crack. “I’ll teach your sorry ass some manners.”
Court chuckled. “Damn, she’s vicious. He’s lucky we came along.”
Harm stood rooted to the spot in disbelief. He liked this spitfire. His shepherd was on the prowl, pawing and panting. He liked her too! Sniffing loudly, he picked her scent from the stench wafting through the air. Sweet.
Thinking about getting to know her better caused his cock to swell and jerk in his pants. Slender fingers appeared on the edge and Harm took hold to help hoist the woman over the side. Feet had barely touched the ground before she pulled one hand free and pushed a wave of dark hair back. Lifting Harm’s other hand to her nose, she sniffed loudly. Fuck. Something a dog would do and the action yanked his cock to full attention.
“His balls will hurt for a week.” Hearty male laughter bounced from walls of the alley, putting a smug smile on her pretty face. “I was ready to kick his nuts to hell and back when you turned the corner.” Purse in hand, she walked away and glanced over her shoulder. It was as if Court didn’t exist when her eyes nailed Harm to the spot he stood in. “It’s good to know chivalry’s not dead.” She disappeared around the corner.
“What the fuck was that?” Court continued to laugh. “I believe she would have taken him out.”
Harm wanted to chase after her but his feet wouldn’t move. Watching her plump little ass twitch away stirred something raw and natural in his gut, causing his shepherd to react by immobilizing Harm in his path.
“Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch.” Court’s head fell back and he roared, laughing until he choked. “Your dog got you by the balls.”
“Go to hell.” Her scent dissipated and Harm’s shepherd released him. Swiping his knees futilely in an attempt to remove a smudge of dirt, he glared at his brother. “Shut up before I bite you in the nuts.” Looking back toward the main street, he sniffed the air again. “Very, very sweet.” Harm needed to check in with a client and was already late. He didn’t want the customer contacting the office and complaining. Max had left him in charge. “Last thing I need is Ren and Wade sniping at my ass for not handling business.”
The Alsatians could be real sons of bitches. Well aware Harm would one day be alpha of their pack, they continued to treat him as if he was a pup in training. Max occasionally acted as a buffer but he’d gone with Harm’s sister, Victoria, on a working honeymoon somewhere in Africa with hopes of turning up information on the Germaine family as well as the shepherds.
“You ordering or asking?” Court stared at him.
“I’m asking, my brother.”
“Right answer. But I’m not leaving my clothes in this stink hole.” Court’s chest swelled with air. “Won’t be hard to pick up her scent.” His brother undressed and folded each item meticulously over Harm’s arm. Glancing sideways, he asked, “When are you going to kick those fucker’s asses? Men can afford to be diplomatic, Harm, but we’re animals.”
His mother suffered through hours of labor to give birth to Victoria as a woman. Afterward, no longer able to stand the pain, she changed into a shepherd and whelped Harm and Court. Though most of his life had been spent locked inside his animal, Harm didn’t think of himself as genetically fucked up. Hell, he embraced the ability to morph at a moment’s notice from dog to man, or vice versa. The Austrian monk who had experimented with mixing his DNA with an animal’s created something wonderful in his estimation. Not only did they live longer, they were stronger, wiser, in either body. As far as Harm was concerned, both worlds had distinctly wonderful advantages.

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

Thursday, September 13, 2018

Take a ride...

With Grange Stafford on Throwback Thursday.

DRIVER (PHANTOM LURE 1)

Available at: Changeling PressAmazonB&NKobo

Going my way?

Grange Stafford drives when the need arises. It’s a ride he looks forward to, one that sustains his life force -- a ride that will end fulfilling every imagined carnal yearning.

The handsome man driving the bus on Roman Curt’s route to work appears in an unrealized fantasy. What would his girlfriend think of his wanton desires? Roman envisions sharing more than her with the stranger whose intent green eyes observe him through the rearview mirror. Roman wants to be his lover too!

Driver, take me your way!


Excerpt:
You were the devil’s lover?”

“I was.” Grange drained his glass. “This is what he made me.”

“Because you left him?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not like you were his one and only,” Connor mocked.

If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Con sounded jealous. His voice earlier… No, that wasn’t possible. Grange’s cock began to swell as he watched Conner’s bulge thicken, pronouncing the curve along his shaft and tempting him with the memory of just how sweet it felt deep in his ass. Grange gripped the stem of his empty goblet so tightly it broke. He stared at blood filling his palm. 
“Luc loves differently.”

“You mean the devil?” Rom glared at him.

“Yes, Lucifer. With him it’s evidenced in sex and depravity, and for a while I was his favorite.” Grange inspected his palm. “He made me, all Lures, in his image and we exist for sex, crave it daily, and can’t subsist without it. He’s done to us the one thing true love cannot withstand.” Grange licked the wound until it disappeared. “I didn’t leave the door open -- it was him working through me.” He caressed Roman’s cheek across the bar. “He wanted you to see me exactly as I am.”

“I don’t care.”

“He restored your memory, and I can never erase it again.”

“So?”

“Each time I fuck someone, if you stay near me, you’ll witness it, feel it through me as you did tonight, and eventually, you’ll hunger for it just as Conner and I do. Do you understand I’ll want others? Every. Damn. Day.”

“He did that because I love you?”

“Aww, babe -- love?”

Conner spoke up. “I wish Grange didn’t want you. I feel his need acutely.” He leaned against the bar, massaging his dick. “Him,” he pointed to the sleeping man on the sofa, “his kind will always be just a catch. But other Lures will pick up your scent as well as Grange’s desire for you. They will come after you, hard.” Conner sucked in a lungful of air. “I can barely keep my hands from you.”

“You want me?”

“Every Lure will want what Grange has found in you.” Con grimaced. “A catch whose memory is intact and you’re still willing? Yeah, they’ll come.”

Grange waited to see how Roman handled this information.

“What would happen?” Roman held his glass out for more wine, and once filled, he drained it in one gulp. “Would Grange be harmed?”

“You’re worried about Grange’s safety?” Con whispered.

Grange studied Con. What was up with him? He turned back to Roman. “We rip the genitals from any Lure who enters our territory due to our greedy nature.” Taking Rom’s hand, he continued. “I’d tear them all to shreds to protect you.”

“Grange is the strongest, but he will be challenged.”

“Over me?”

The man on the sofa roused, drawing Roman’s attention. He stood, bleary-eyed, stretched sensuously, then grabbed his robe and left.

“Was that you?” Rom shot a look at Grange.

His eyes were clear, so blue, and full of trust. Is that what love looked like? Was this Luc’s way of making amends, or had he discovered a way for Grange to suffer even worse? His chest grew tight as he sniffed the air. Roman’s scent had joined with Con’s, and the smells clamored for attention. “Yes. I can’t stand another minute of not having you.”

“Whoa, man, let me dress and get out of here.” Conner’s body trembled. “I-I can find a hotel, hook someone else.”

“Stay.” One word and Grange imagined never again being surprised by Roman until he stared at Grange and said, “Of them all, you trust and like him.” Rom squinted. “You know he loves you?”

“What?” How the hell did Grange miss that?

Conner sighed. “It’s why I don’t visit as often as I’d like. It’s too hard keeping it from you.”

Roman’s fingers brushed Con’s hips, sending a flare of desire straight to Grange’s crotch. “You’ve had each other before.”

“Holy shit, Grange, Luc’s bared your soul to him.”

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

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Pre-order SUBSIDE

Subside

Pre-order at Amazon: mybook.to/Subside1 - Available October 1st

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 pursues pleasure in arms of so many men, he never lacks companionship. All those arms, lips, and asses, none feed his true desire. Deacon yearns for someone to make in his own image by introducing them to a hunger so vile, they will detest him forever.

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

Excerpt:
“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.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
What with the woman sitting in front of him smelling of fresh blood, and Merck’s injured thumb, Deacon longed to find someone to slake his thirst. Having now had a small taste of Father Hallowell’s blood, he could find him anywhere and ascertained quickly that he would come upon him again tonight if patient. Merck had already taken to the streets looking to provide some measure of comfort to his flock. His mind slipped occasionally to Deacon but he kept moving as if activity would erase what transpired.
“He didn’t fear me.” Deacon felt no surprise at that as he often tagged behind him into west Philly’s most dangerous areas. He’d watched Merck talk criminals down yet had never witnessed him hit one even as he wrestled a few to the ground when necessary and stripped them of weapons. Fearless. It was as if he sought death at someone’s hands.
“No,” Deacon whispered. “You’re mine now.”


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

Saturday, September 1, 2018

It's Caturday!

With a wolf thrown in for good measure....err, good menage. Available in the EXTRA CREAM box set at Changeling Press.

Zader’s Menagerie

The right wolf will make this cat howl at the moon.

Zader Montana is Sovereign Kind, a mountain lion infected with vampyre blood. He refuses to
embrace his undead half, the part of him that prowls the night looking for the she-wolf he desires. His problem -- she’s mated to the alpha of the wolf pack sharing his mountaintop.

Skye wants a taste of the cat who trails her every night. Convincing her mate to let her have a bite won’t be a big deal. The wolves are infected with the blood curse too, and they’re not finicky. Skye’s willing to be shared by both leaders as long as she gets what she wants.

Excerpt:
Skye had stayed in her wolf, enjoyed walking through the quiet forest. Where was Leaf, and why hadn’t he come to her? A slow throb started at the top of her head, made her eyes water, her nose run. What now?
A sound to her left caught her attention, but too late. A wiry cheetah came into view, spittle dripping from its fangs. Damn it to hell, she should have paid attention to her surroundings. Then she heard it—a howl that sounded like it came from the bowels of the earth. Leaf.
The big wolf flashed in front of her, tail high and swishing in agitation. Cat got your tongue, baby?
Leaf… She watched as the thick fur receded and he stood naked and tall in the form of his vampyre. His eyes glared red, his fangs were long and deadly.
“I’ve been with you the whole time.”
Pulling her wolf back, she stood beside him, her eyes pinned on the deadly transgressor in front of them. “I didn’t feel you.” But she felt Zader.
“Skye, I need to tell you something.”
Before he could finish the animal lunged, taking a swipe across Leaf’s chest. Blood bubbled from the wound which could kill even the strongest Kind. It was one reason she and Leaf should have remained in their animals.
“And the other reason is why we don’t use our Balkan cousins’ power to kill them. They deserve to die with respect because many of them were Reign warriors, and they are what we all should have remained. Animals, beasts, that should have lived and died in the wild.”
Zader’s eyes glared red from across the clearing before he released his cat. The tan fur barely covered his torso before his paws slapped the ground. He growled, circling the spotted cat.
Skye quickly changed into her wolf, prepared to fight alongside the cat that belonged to her, just as she had planned to do with Leaf. Before she reached Zader, he’d pounced on the wiry animal. Cries split the night as his cougar latched onto the thinner cat’s neck, delivering a vicious bite to the jugular. The cheetah fell to its side, gasping for air. With quickness unknown to normal animals, Zader’s beast ripped into the belly, disemboweling the transgressor and putting it out of its misery.
Leaf had slumped down against a tree trunk, blood flowing freely from the gouges. Skye’s wolf rushed to his side and licked at the wounds to heal them. He’d need strong blood, and she hadn’t taken any. Turning, she saw that Zader had regained his man form, and watched them from across the clearing. Taking her animal inside her body, she sat next to Leaf. “Zader?” He wouldn’t deny her, but would Leaf want a cat’s blood?
“Does he want to live?” He’d do anything to make Skye happy, even share his blood.
Leaf raised his head and stared at Zader. “Yes.” A small smile curved his lips, “Just don’t give me too much or I’ll kill you.”
She watched Zader move closer with a gleam in his eyes. “You’d die trying, bastard.” He stooped down and bared his wrist to Leaf. “Take too much and there might be a definite improvement in your scraggly ass.” His head tilted. “Who the hell holds a conversation while there’s a transgressor not ten feet away?”
Finished taking sustenance, Leaf sighed. “Was pretty damn stupid, huh?”
“We’ve both got something to live for now.”
“Guess you’re right.”
There was a new respect for each other in their words, but Skye sensed sadness in Leaf that she didn’t understand. And there was a definite difference in the way Zader acted. His eyes were filled with wildness, a certain abandonment. The scent of anger mixed with fear of the wolves was totally absent from the cat.
Zader did something she wouldn’t have thought him capable of—they were all clothed by him and transported to his house. Only a very strong vamp could perform that feat. How long had he been taking the blood again to have such strength?
Settling Leaf into a guest room, she and Zader went to rest by the fire. “You respect him now?”
“Always did. I respect, even more, that he would have done anything to save you.”
“He’s not as uncaring or mean as he sometimes appears.”
“I know that. As a leader, I understand we have to do things others don’t like.”
“There’s something… different about you.” She moved to his side, ran her fingers over his chest. “Something that makes me want you even more.” Zader removed their clothing with a thought.
“Something that makes you want me with your alpha under the same roof?”
“Maybe it’s because he’s here.” Continuing to stroke his face, play in his hair, she moved one hand to his crotch. His cock was swollen, the tip wet with pre-cum. “You seem stronger, more settled into the idea of being with us.”
“Skye, part of you is mine, and taking that doesn’t trample what belongs to Leaf.” His head bent, cool lips brushed her brow. “I’d never stop you from having anything you love.”
He nudged his tongue between her lips, delved deep into her mouth, proving how much he wanted her. She felt his hands cup her breasts, squeeze her taut, painfully engorged nipples. Skye arched into him, her body asking for more. Before she could say it, they were in his bed, Zader beneath her. Pulling her head away, she said, “Take me, take what’s yours.”
Skye gloried in the feel of his large hands caressing her back, covering her ass to nudge her closer. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.” His whispered words were rife with desire.
“She’s mine too, cat.”
Leaf!

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