Praise for the writing of Sheri Gilmore
Maslow’s Needs
Maslow's Needs is excellent with a gritty and dangerous feeling to thrill lovers of dark vampire heroes. It's a heady blend of sexual heat and horror…[W]ell crafted and exciting in every way! I highly recommend it!
-- Patrice, The Romance Studio
I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys reading about the supernatural and likes their romance tinged with a dark atmosphere. Maslow's Needs is a terrific book that I will never forget.
-- Susan White, Coffee Time Romance
Maslow's Needs is highly erotic. Drayden and Jessi literally sizzle whenever they are together. I certainly hope to read more of this goth world and cannot wait to see what else Sheri Gilmore has in store.
-- Barb Hicks, Paranormal Romance Reviews
Elements in this book from the bondage scene, to the background of witchcraft and an intimate look at Goths, were purely fascinating…A definite read for anyone willing to expose him or herself to a darker taste of love and pain!
-- Rachelle, Enchanted in Romance
Maslow's Needs is now available from Loose Id.
HOT HOUSE:
DANTE AND HAYLEY
Sheri Gilmore
www.loose-id.com
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
* * * * *
This book is rated:
For substantial explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (ménage, BDSM, violence, homoerotic sex).
DISCLAIMER: Many of the acts described in our BDSM/fetish titles can be dangerous. Loose Id publishes these stories for members of the community in which these acts are known and practiced safely. If you have an interest in the pleasures and pains you find described herein, we urge you to seek out advice and guidance from knowledgeable persons. Please do not try any new sexual practice, whether it be fire, rope, or whip play, without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.
Hot House: Dante and Hayley
Sheri Gilmore
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by
Loose Id LLC
1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29
Carson City NV 89701-1215
www.loose-id.com
Copyright © May 2005 by Sheri Gilmore
Excerpt of Desert Moon: Ah-ten copyright March 2005 by Alicia Sparks
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.
ISBN 1-59632-120-2
Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader
Printed in the United States of America
Editor: Maryam Salim
Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin
Author’s Note
“When I had journeyed half of our life’s way,
I found myself within a shadowed forest,
for I had lost the path that does not stray.”
-- Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy
When I wrote this book, the first question I heard was: “How can you make the devil the hero?!” My response was: “Why not?” Then, I heard: “You can’t; it won’t sell.” My response: “Well, I am and it will!” Thank goodness for Loose Id! LOL.
I first studied The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri in high school, then again later in college. The poet’s dark imagery of his journey through Purgatory and Hell stayed with me. Not to haunt me -- as it did with fellow classmates, who said, “Eww, that’s gross” -- but to fascinate me.
I bought my own copy a couple of years ago, along with John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Both books are fascinating reading that led me to further research with The Book of Enoch, A Dictionary of Angels, and a tour through several books on Hebrew mythology with their theme of reincarnation. Not to mention a brush-up on my Greek mythology!
Although I thoroughly enjoyed Milton’s tale, I kept coming back to Dante. The image that stood out the most for me was of Satan, hanging upside down in the pits of Hell for his “sins.”
That’s when my ever active imagination kicked in and I came up with: What if Satan is just misunderstood? What if he’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing in the “grand scope of things” of the world? What if God gave him another chance at redemption? So ... Dante and Hayley’s story was born.
I hope you enjoy Hot House: Dante & Hayley. The imagery is dark, and the theme is one not many people can accept, but it is the story of a deep passion and a great romance. The need of God’s “most favored” angel to experience the human emotion of love so badly that he disobeys his Creator for that one chance at finding his soul-mate and ending his eternal loneliness. A love that has truly lasted through the portals of time.
Chapter One
“Tell me again why we’re here.”
Hayley pressed against Jay, but though the excitement in his voice rose above the music of what she thought was Mercyful Fate, blaring across the dance floor where dozens of bodies gyrated and crashed into one another, she could hardly hear him.
She turned her head toward her friend. “Because you want to get laid.”
“Correction. We don’t want to just get laid. We want to get fucked,” Jay shouted. He smiled at a leather-clad female goth rocker in front of him.
Hayley watched the pale woman take hold of Jay’s hips and grind her pelvis against his to the beat of the heavy-metal music. Jay threw his head back and laughed.
“There’s a difference, Hayley, girl.”
Hayley rolled her gaze to the ceiling. Once again she’d let her best friend talk her into one of his ludicrous schemes. She chanced a peek at the bodies pressed close around them, along with the smells of sweat and lust. Leather, body piercing, black hair, black fingernails ... When was she going to learn?
“Uh, speak for yourself, guyfriend.” Hayley took a step back. “I’m not planning on getting laid, or fucked, by anyone ...” A guy with red-and-white face paint passed in front of her and flicked his long, pierced, forked tongue at her. A shudder passed through her body, and she took another step back. “... or anything ... in this place.”
Since they’d walked through the door, her feeling of dread had increased. The front part of the club wasn’t so bad, but when they’d undergone the perusal of the club’s gold-painted bouncer, she had struggled with the urge to leave.
He had narrowed his demonlike red eyes at them, but after a thorough scrutiny, especially of her, he’d let them pass through an iron gate with strange symbols above it. The squeak of the heavy iron as it closed still echoed in her mind. She had looked back, and the gold man’s smile had been evil. But, like every other time Jay had a wild idea, she stayed.
The hair on her neck prickled, and she rubbed her hand across the sensitive skin for the thousandth time that evening. She glanced around to see if someone watched them, but
didn’t notice anything unusual. She snorted, the sound lost in the din. Everything in here was unusual.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” She pulled on Jay’s arm to get his attention, but he was focused on a half-naked lizard woman with pierced nipples.
“Oh, Hayley, you are such a spoilsport.” Jay patted the goth rocker on the ass and turned toward her. “There are some what you girls call ‘really cute’ guys in this club.” He grabbed Hayley by the shoulders and swiveled her around to face the stage.
“Now just a min--”
“See?”
Hayley froze. Goosebumps slithered along her arms. Not from the icy wind that had seared their skin before they entered the club, but from the sight of the man leaning against one of the massive stone posts at the side of the stage. She hadn’t seen him earlier and wondered if he were the one who had been watching. Her nipples beaded behind the thin fabric of her knit sweater. “Cute” just didn’t cut it.
His eyes surveyed the crowd below him. Like a hunter stalking his prey, he studied the herd for signs of weakness and waited silently for the precise moment to strike.
A small giggle escaped her. She put a fist to her mouth to stop the uncontrolled response, and let her gaze travel over the hard, lean line of muscular thighs and legs encased in black leather. Long-legged men had always been a weakness of hers. Hayley swallowed hard and continued her perusal.
A leather vest revealed smooth, dark skin sprinkled with black hair. Tattoos raced over his skin. Red and yellow flames burst up his arms where the body art peeked from beneath the material between chest and shoulder to tease her.
The design danced and burned to life when he flexed his strong arms across his chest in a seemingly restful pose. Black hair like silk feathered across his brow and past his shoulders.
The urge to run her fingers through the mass was almost unbearable. She felt a quiver in her abdomen, a slow burn that licked down to her clit, and squeezed her thighs in denial. Her gaze drifted back to the man’s face. Hard. Unyielding. Firm but sensuous lips were set in a straight line beneath a long, aquiline nose, high cheekbones, and ...
He turned his head like an eagle, then blinked once. Black, soulless eyes penetrated her being. A shudder coursed through her. She wasn’t fooled by his casual stance, or his made for sin bod. The guy’s stance spelled “danger.” He held her gaze; his arms unfolded, ready to strike. Haley’s mind screamed run!, but her body wouldn’t respond.
With one graceful movement, the man leaped from the stage to land in front of her. His head drew level with her hips, and she swore he sniffed her crotch, like some wild beast. His eyes narrowed, and she tensed.
He stood to his full height.
Hayley looked up. Her neck ached with the need to snap. The rhythm of her heart pounded against her chest so hard she thought her ribs would break, and the scent of an exotic, but familiar, incense filled her nostrils. She wanted to close her eyes and break contact with his, but couldn’t. He had her in a trance.
“See what I mean?” Jay asked. “I think he likes you.”
Jay’s big shoulder nudged Hayley. “Rrrroww ... go for it, girl.”
Hayley’s head snapped forward. Visual contact broke, except for the black toes of the stranger’s boots. She rubbed her neck. Her thoughts circled in some type of vortex where there existed nothing but blackness, emptiness.
An image of bodies caught in a whirlwind took a blurred shape in her mind. She reached out, but her hands didn’t make contact with anything, and she lost her balance. Strong hands gripped her arms to pull her up.
Her head lolled back, and weakness assailed her legs. She closed her eyes. “I-I think I’m going to be sick.”
Without a word the stranger lifted Hayley into his arms. His breath fluttered warm against her cheek. She felt him move.
“Wait.” Jay’s voice faded behind them. “Where are you going?”
Hayley lifted her head and peeked through her eyelashes toward a door beside the stage. “Jay?” She squirmed against the iron bands wrapped around her, but dizziness hit again. She groaned and shut her eyes.
“Your friend is right behind us; don’t worry.”
The voice, like dark, rich honey, slid over her skin. The chaos in her mind eased. He spoke perfect English, with the trace of an accent she couldn’t quite place. Again, familiarity touched the edges of her memory.
Her mind registered the fact that she should try and break free, but she couldn’t summon enough energy to fight. She took a deep breath, yawned, then let her head drop onto his shoulder. “I’m tired.”
“Yes, I know.”
Their movements halted. He shifted her higher, and she heard the rattle of a handle.
“That is a normal reaction to ... this place.”
A door swished open, then shut with a thud. He moved a few more feet before he lowered her onto something soft and plush, and placed a pillow beneath her head. Once settled, she chanced opening her eyelids, one at a time. She reclined on a sofa, and he, she sensed more than saw, moved away from her. A sensation of loss and disorientation replaced the warmth she’d experienced in his arms.
The room lay in darkness except for a dim light radiating from an aquarium built into the far wall. The sound of an electric filter hummed in the quiet recesses. No sounds from the club could be detected in this small sanctuary.
She squinted to see the tank better. Strange. There weren’t any fish. She frowned and watched the water churn with angry bubbles, almost like a steady boil. Hayley eased her head to her right. Good, the nausea had abated. She glanced around the hunk’s darkened frame a few feet away and made out the lines of a desk and a computer screen.
“Better?”
“Yeah, thanks.” She sat up, slowly. “Where is my friend?”
“He is your boyfriend?”
She hesitated, wondering if she should lie. “No. We’ve been best friends since third grade.”
“Ah.”
He paused, like her words gave him a deeper understanding. Of what, she couldn’t begin to have a clue. She raised her eyebrows.
“He is just outside the door. My friends will entertain him while you’re with me.”
Hayley couldn’t see his face, but she heard a note of amusement in his voice. If his friends were what she’d seen outside, she was positive she didn’t want to see his enemies. And -- she examined the length of his silhouette while a shudder passed through her -- she was certain he had plenty of those.
He moved away from her, toward the desk. There was a click, and brightness flooded the room. Hayley raised her hand and blinked at the sudden glare. A chair squeaked, followed by silence. When her eyes adjusted, she focused on her host.
He studied her with narrowed eyes, wary and watchful, his stare causing goosebumps to form up and down her arms. Hayley dropped her gaze and explored the office in more detail from beneath her lashes.
From local newspapers, she knew the House of Purgatory had only been open for a few years. The club had garnered a reputation for the multitude of great alternative rock and heavy-metal groups that performed every week. But instead of the autographed photos of rock stars she had imagined would outline the walls, there were rows upon rows of books.
Hayley frowned. She didn’t want to meet those eyes that penetrated into her soul, but the need to examine his library grew stronger. No self-respecting librarian would pass up the opportunity to touch -- and smell -- such a collection. She chanced a glance in his direction.
He hadn’t moved, but continued to watch her. His narrowed gaze had been replaced by hooded eyes and the briefest of quirks to the sensuous lips, as if the mixture of her curiosity and apprehension now amused him.
Curiosity won. She stood. Moving around the end of the desk farthest from his reach, she could see if he made a move toward her out of the corner of her eye.
“And curiosity killed the cat.”
“What did you say?” She wasn’t sure that she’d heard his whispered words corre
ctly. His lips twitched further, but he shrugged.
Her mental inquisitiveness growled, and her eyes left her host to hungrily scan the titles in front of her. She gasped. The collection in front of her was vast and -- her hand trembled over what appeared to be an ancient copy of the Bible -- valuable. Her need to touch the text battled with the fear that she would harm such a treasure.
“You may pick the books up.” His voice was soft, almost hypnotic. “You may even --” He cocked his head to the side. “-- smell them, if you wish.”
Hayley jerked her head toward him. How did he know? She looked away, and her heart pounded harder. He couldn’t. His offer had to be mere coincidence. She shivered as she remembered an earlier conversation with Jay. Nothing in life happened by chance. There was always a reason for whatever transpired.
The books distracted her, calling her attention away from her memories and the mysterious man. Her fingers skimmed “The Iliad,” by Homer, “The Analects,” by Confucius, and two volumes of “The Arabian Nights.” All in their original languages of Greek, Chinese, and Arabic!
He had to be an art smuggler. Why else would these ancient tomes be here in the back room of a nightclub? Hayley turned to her host. “Who are you?”
When he smiled, his face gentled. The deep lines etched in the shadows of his cheek smoothed. He became beautiful. She immediately recalled a painting she’d seen in a museum when she was younger of four archangels huddled together, as if they shared a secret. She remembered a fifth angel off to the side, isolated from his brothers, with his leg chained to a large stone and a look of despair on his handsome face.
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