Firstborn-Hellacious 3
Available today at Changeling
Press!
Hell
is no place for a human…unless they’re
dead!
Wicked
Sathariel, the eldest son of Satan, has finally met his match, and at the
oddest of times, she turns up in his head. Accustomed to having his father and
siblings rummage through his mind, he can’t handle his woman seeing his
hellacious thoughts. And when it becomes clear she’s heaven bound – all hell
breaks loose!
Lori
Thornton’s psychic ability is new, and never one to control her temper or her
mouth, she often finds herself in bizarre predicaments. One such event is
meeting Satan’s first-born and calling him a pretty boy. When his eyes fill
with hellfire and he releases horns, talons, and the long, leathery, forked
tail that swings treacherously toward her, Lori knows her life is about to spin
deliciously out of control.
Excerpt:
Wicked
hadn’t intended to kiss her so soon, he wanted Lori to get used to him. Eyes
that rivaled his in their blueness stared at him. She ran a hand nervously
through her neck-length blonde hair and her full lips quivered. The smell of
her fear made him anxious, unsure. How could he make her understand he’d never,
ever hurt her. “I’m going to kiss you.”
When
she didn’t step back, he leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers. His
hands were now clenched at his sides as he vowed not to touch any other part of
her body. Wick knew her wide hips would be soft, her plump breasts would more
than fill his palms, and her nipples, taut beneath her shirt, would be so damn
sweet. Easing his tongue past her lips, he tasted her for the first time. His
senses reeled at the exotic flavor of who she was. Her thoughts, her needs,
tumbled headlong into his mind and blinded him with the light of goodness from
her soul.
Snatching
back, he gazed at her long and hard. “Hell’s sake, I didn’t expect you to be so
fucking devout.” Especially knowing what she desired of him. No matter, he would
take her tonight, make her his. He ran the tip of a finger around a bud. “Are
they hard for me, Lori?”
“Wicked…
I… please, don’t…”
“I
will do nothing you have not dreamed of.”
“I
didn’t realize you invaded my dreams.”
“I
watched them.” He smiled. “I wanted your sleep to be peaceful.”
“You
can do that?”
“I
can do anything I want. I’ve been through your mind a hundred times since that
first night.” Shoving hands back in his pockets so he wasn’t tempted to touch
her again, he tilted his head. “You’ve been in mine also.” He still couldn’t
fathom how that had happened. Probably his mother’s doing. “Have you seen
anything terrible enough to condemn me for?” He felt her feeble attempt at
reading him, but he’d closed that pathway for now aware another would only
spring up. Damn Josette.
“No,
but, unlike you, I haven’t seen everything. I know it’s there, I feel it.” She
averted her eyes. “You are the devil.”
“I
am his son.”
“Like
father, like son.”
He
moved to stare out the window of his loft. Lights shone brightly from the many
high-rises surrounding his building. Looking up, he saw a myriad of stars, and
one shot toward Earth in a solitary path. He remembered when he was a boy
Josette told him shooting stars were angels falling to Earth. Wicked never
believed it. They were pieces of dying planets or stars, nothing more. “Tell me
what you feel right now?”
“I
can’t.”
He
turned to face her and rested his hips on the sill. “Yes, you can.”
“I
want… damn it, Wicked, I want you.”
He
grunted. “I know what you want, tell me something else, something I don’t know.”
“You
know everything there is to know.”
“I
don’t know why it took you so long to come to me.” He should have had her in
his bed long ago.
“What
do you mean?”
“You’ve
known since the first night we would be together.”
She
stuttered, “I-I guess I did.”
“I
scare you that much?”
“Yes.”
He
walked to her. “Yet you envision me between your thighs.” He ran a finger over
her lips and sighed. “I don’t want you afraid, and I won’t take you that way.”
His body shimmered in and out of view. “You will stay here.”
“Don’t
leave me!”
“You
can’t stand to be with me, but you don’t want to be without me.”
“Wicked,
I need time.”
“You’ve
had enough, but I’ll give you a little more.” He vanished, heading below to
visit with his father. Relax, honey, you
got what you wanted. For now.
Labor Day signals new beginnings. For me, it's the start of a new series at Loose Id - The Essentiants. First up is Healing Hell:
Healing
Hell
Available at Loose Id and other
ebook outlets
Healing a hell creature…
Ion Toso models and poses as a live mannequin. Weary of one-night
stands, loneliness threatens to consume him until, while posing in an upscale
department store window one evening he sees the perfect woman jump from a cab
wearing a fake green flower on her lapel. His dormant body comes to life for the
world to see. Once he finds her, convincing her to accept everything he is,
even the part no one dares look at twice will not be easy. Ion is an
Essentiant—an immortal creature who steals and devours souls of human vermin.
Sandy Brittingham hasn’t been out on a date for months yet
pretending to enjoy another aimless blind date is intolerable. Unable to bear
the thought of murmuring polite lies at the end of the night forces her to act
recklessly. Before she’s seated, she snatches off the fake green flower she
wore so the man would know her and tosses it into the trash. Sandy walks out
the restaurant and unwittingly into the arms of a thief, but she’s not sure the
model who rescues her isn’t worse.
Excerpt:
The crowd of mostly women thinned. Some entered the store hoping
to catch Ion up close and personal, others made their way into the fancy
restaurant next door, and a few departed for what he guessed would be a quiet
night at home. What might a lifetime with someone who truly loved him be like?
He’d spent his entire existence in and out of one-night stands and short-lived
relationships, which always left him seeking more.
Lately, Ion sought no one to slake his lust.
A yellow cab bumped the curb coming to a stop. The woman who
exited leaned in the front window and gave the cabby a bill. Tires squealed as
the driver lurched back into traffic.
Recklessness, warm weather, and a short, black skirt stretched
across a plump ass caused something to happen for the first time in years while
posing--Ion’s cock sprang to life. Impossible to conceal it, considering he
wore only the name-brand brief. The world held ringside seats for the rise of
Ion Toso’s dick. He thanked God for what little support the constricting
underwear added to his pitiful situation.
Cameras flashed and fingers pointed when Ion closed his legs in an
attempt to hide his predicament. He had not moved on assignment since the early
days. As a live mannequin, unlike a model on the catwalk, he worked with
smaller crowds so he didn’t need stringent mind control. Tonight, he lost power
over the throng and was sure, with modern technology, pictures and videos
already flooded social media like a storm. Unfuckingbelievable! Another
round of queries regarding his real age would simultaneously bombard the
airwaves.
Attention drawn by the hubbub, the woman turned and looked. Red
lips curved into a smile, which distracted Ion from awful thoughts for a bit.
Blonde hair curled just above her collar, and a low-cut white camisole held
generous mounds peeking from the top. The fake green flower pinned to her
jacket lapel marred an otherwise perfect picture. Pivoting on at least
five-inch heels, she sashayed away. What a sweet ass! Ion didn’t have to
look to know a drop of precum left a wet spot front and center of the snug
white underwear.
In one tiny moment, internationally famous model and poser Ion
Toso tumbled from his public throne.
A quick glance at the clock placed out of sight beneath the window
ledge let Ion know he had ten minutes remaining. He wasn’t going to make it.
Damn, growing complacent and lax, he had not taken sustenance, which would have
given him more power to control the small crowd and avoid the awkward
situation.
Standing, he twisted and bumped the plastic female mannequin in
white lacy underwear behind him, sending it flying with a crash through the
curtain. Jumping from the rise, he ignored murmurs and smirks from workers
unpacking merchandise, and walked quickly down the hall. Not wishing to run
into someone in the elevator, he took the stairs down to where the dressing
room provided for his privacy was located.
When he entered the room, his best friend peered at his watch, set
his coffee down, and stared at him. “You okay? It’s only ten till nine.” Giving
Ion the once-over, Dresdan Mati burst out laughing. “I’ll be damned, you’re
sporting wood.” He continued to peruse Ion’s body. “Christ, did you come in
your panties?”
“Shut the hell up. They’re briefs.”
J. Hali Steele
Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.
www.jhalisteele.com
No comments:
Post a Comment