With Extra Cream: Getting enough cream is a problem for this cat… Jag Arizon has a plan to correct that. A jaguar of the Kind species, big cats infected with vampyre blood, he walks in both worlds. Aside from blood, he’s addicted to cream, and only one person can cure him. In convincing her to donate to his cause, Jag gets much more than he bargained for.
Hot Tin Roof: Leron Wilder is a jaguar of the Kind species, big cat shifters infected with vampyre blood. Nothing has gone right for Leron since his best friend Jag mated with the owner of the local coffee shop. Corinne Nelson loves her new home and her new job as a waitress at the Coffee Swirl, and she’s really hoping she won’t have to move on this time. Life’s finally looking up — until the hottest man she’s ever met walks into the shop — and licks her hand?
Cougar by the Tail: Trent Dallion is screwed. A wily little cougar has him by the balls — and he can’t get loose! Did she mean it when she thanked him for killing her brother? Or is she playing a game of cat and mouse, waiting for revenge?
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.
Copyright ©2021 J. Hali Steele
Excerpt from With Extra Cream
The lot at the Coffee Swirl filled up fast. Leron saw Jag’s Lotus right in front. He really did miss the guy. He couldn’t pop in on him like he used to in the mornings, not with Barbara there, but he could always catch him at the Swirl.
“Now, the Lotus, that’s a real car.”
“Jesus Christ, get the fuck out of my car, Trent. You better pray Jag will take your ass back to the compound.”
“I’ll ride with him because you’re in a pissy mood.”
Leron stepped from the car and slammed the door shut, wincing at the force he used. He bounded up the steps, taking two at a time. He walked inside and saw Jag’s head come up immediately in the booth where they usually sat.
“Hey, man. How you been? Trent, what’s up?” Jag looked happy as hell to see him and that improved Leron’s mood a little.
“Stopped by to catch up, check on how you’re doing.”
“He misses you,” Trent chimed in.
Leron wheeled around, collared the youngster, and slammed him against the plate glass window. His temper was on a short fuse today. His claws had begun to emerge when he heard Barbara’s voice. “Let him go, Leron.”
Shit. He brushed his hand down the front of Trent’s tee. “Just straightening the kid up a bit. He’s sloppy.” A hiss whistled past his teeth. “Sorry, Barb.”
“I’ll get you a coffee, you go talk to Jag. By the way, he misses you too.” She grinned and went behind the counter. She’d made him happy. Leron had started to feel like a girly-man pining away for the company of his best friend. It was good to know his buddy felt the same way.
He flopped into the seat across from Jag and grinned at the cat.
“Kid getting on your nerves?”
“He’s everywhere, always into something. Thinks he’s a badass.”
The door to the back of the shop opened, and Leron glanced up. His nostrils flared at the magnificent smell that assailed him. Citrus, which reminded him of oranges.
Long, honey-colored hair flew in a spray around slender shoulders as the woman spun with a tray in her hand. He caught his breath and held it. Christ, she was tall. The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Hazel eyes glanced across the room and locked with his. A whoosh of air left his mouth on a moan.
“Easy, big guy,” Jag said, following the direction of his eyes.
“Who is she?”
“Corinne. Cory Nelson. Things picked up a bit so Barb hired her. She’s new in town and needed a job.”
“Where’s she from?”
“I could ask Barb. Why?”
Leron faced Jag. “No particular reason.” His heart beat like a drum. Her scent wafted across the room and teased him. The day had just gotten better. He rolled his head around, but the muscles remained tight. His fangs tingled. This wasn’t a feeling he liked. Damn, maybe the guy he fed from that morning did drugs or something.
“Leron, you okay?”
“I don’t know. Lately I’ve been a little distracted. That’s all. Want to get together at the compound tonight? A bunch of us are going to hang out.”
“Sure. I’ve been meaning to come by anyway. I’ll let Barb know.” The joy that lit Jag’s face was pathetic. Leron hoped he never got pussy whipped like that.
“Here’s your black coffee.” It was her. The silken sound of her voice slid right down to his cock. As she was putting his cup on the table, he tried to touch her hand. She pulled away and the hot liquid sloshed over the side and burned her hand. The cup rattled in the saucer and tilted over. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.”
Leron spoke quickly. “It was my fault. Are you okay? Let me look.” An angry red blister had already formed on the back of her hand. His cat instincts took over and he brought her hand to his mouth and began to lick the red welt. His tongue lapped at her like she was today’s special. He had lost his mind and didn’t know where the fuck to find it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A multi-published author, J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of… Well, since she can’t, she would much rather roam where her fictional big cats live — in the high desert of California. Discovering a new love of contemporary male/male erotica has flipped a switch she can’t turn off, so she hopes eventually it drifts back into her otherworldly realm.
When J. Hali’s not writing, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a good book, a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.
Growl and roar — it’s okay to let the beast out.