Friday, September 5, 2014

An End Signals a New Beginning

End of Summer and the end of a series. Hellacious - 3 short, irreverent, erotic, and funny novellas about triplets, all sons of Satan, whom are restless and looking for love!

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 

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