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Unsalvageable, Sanguine Blood Seekers 1, A Razor’s Edge Vampire Erotica Novella

by J. Hali Steele

Vampires are real! Sten Majkovic has lived longer than he ever dreamed possible. Among his kind it isn’t easy having a slim, lithe build, but it does have advantages in the human world. He welcomes attention of men who appreciate his appearance. Their mistake is expecting to hold the upper hand. None ever do. And not a single one of them realizes his rabid need for blood -- until it’s too late…

Drew Riles’ life is shitty. Mid-fifties, passed over for promotion, he struggles to stay afloat until, nearly beaten to death, he’s rescued by a monster. Unsure how to survive, he flounders in unfamiliar territory. Anger soon replaces what little fear the beast allows as Drew comprehends the fiend has no intention of releasing him. Both emotions quickly evaporate as he watches the bloodthirsty creature use men in a way… God, I want to be those men!

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artists:

Protagonist 1 Age: Ageless/Immortal

Tropes: Big Character / Little Character, Coming Out Later in Life, Fated Mates / Soul Mates, Forced Proximity, Villain to Hero

Setting: United States, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, suburb of Philadelphia

Languages Available: English


Death’s fragrance mingled alongside smells long forgotten. Air reeked of it. Decency infused with hope and, damn, it intoxicated Sten Majkovic. Unnoticed, he dropped silently into the squalid alley where he immediately spotted the body whose scent captivated him. Blood slowly seeped onto pavement beneath the man’s head. Sten witnessed a tall, heavyset man toss a wallet into a trash receptacle while continuing to clutch a gold chain and a cell phone. “Those don’t belong to you.”

The cruel robber spun, perused Sten head to toe and spouted, “They’re in my hand. I’d say that makes them mine.”


“A common gutter thief.” Sten didn’t normally kill over thievery but this man had been particularly vicious. Odd affinity felt for the brutally injured victim caused a vision of wrenching this one’s head off. Astonished he maintained a semblance of calm, he attempted to shrug it away as he closed distance between them. “Hear me well.” Angling forward, he looked up and spoke softly. “I want to relay something I once heard.”

“Back off you little bitch.” Comprehending he was trapped between overflowing trash cans and a large refuse bin, he shoved Sten. Wariness filled ordinary brown eyes when Sten didn’t budge. “I’ll shoot your ass.” His free hand inched toward his waistband where light from a streetlamp buzzing overhead glinted from the handle of a gun tucked in jeans. Sorry ass never realized it disappeared until he touched nothing but material. A quick visual search of the area proved fruitless. “Damn it.”

“You should listen.” Sten’s low voice reverberated in the alley as he recited, “Whosoever believeth in Me, shall not perish but have everlasting life.” Asshole’s eyes darted around but failed to notice Sten’s dead black eyes grow to resemble Hell’s fiery pit. “They are words of truth.”

“Tattooed, wearing leather and chains, I wouldn’t take you for some kind of religious nut. This is not your concern.” A brow lifted as thin lips stretched into a slash. “You’re not big enough to take me on.” Effort to move his bulky body forward was restricted by a single finger Sten pressed into his chest. “God! Who are you?”

What am I would be a more apt question. You taking God’s name in vain reminds me. Where was I in my recitation? Whosoever shall deny Me,” Sten’s hand flicked air, “Yada. Yada. Yada. I forget the rest.” Standing toe-to-toe with the piece of shit, he stretched upward until lips touched the prick’s ear. Sten whispered, “I’m not a godly man.” Stepping aside, he gave way to the cretin. “Run motherfucker.” Five, six strides later, Sten mentally lifted him into the air then slammed him to the ground. Walking to stand over him, he stated, “See, your mistake was thinking I spoke of God. Had you believed in my existence you’d have run faster.”

“Don’t, please. Wh…why?”

Falling on the man, Sten gripped his neck and released fangs. “I’d enjoy prolonging agony but time is short.” Lifeforce faded from the one who’d captured his interest. “Why, indeed.” Sten delved into his own mind for an answer but came away empty handed. All he had was, “I like the way he smells.” He refused to dull the thief’s senses. Feel pain. Tearing into his jugular, he brutally took the would-be murderer’s blood. Having fed, sustenance wasn’t required but Sten wanted to leave the man at death’s door. “You can’t call for help, hell, you can’t move your big ass. You’ll lie here and die all alone.” Did nothing to hinder drops of blood dribbling from his mouth onto the man’s cheek. “Oh, I should add to why—you called me a little bitch.”

“Hel…help me.”

Whisper yanked Sten to the injured man’s side. Stooping, he swiped a finger through blood and carried it to his mouth while staring into eyes filled with dread as they glazed over with death. “Your name is Drew Riles. Witnessing my actions, do you understand what you’re asking?”

“Please.” Desire to live overrode fear in greenish gray eyes as teardrops copiously slipped into silver-laced light brown hair embellishing temples. “Don’t. Let. Me. Die.”

“As you wish.”


He knew my name! This can’t be happening. None of it is real. A nightmare brought on by the beating he sustained. Drew Riles barely remembered how he ended up in the filthy alley. But he recalled watching a man commit murder by tearing another’s throat out. Fiend gulped his blood!

Drugged. The creep from the bar must have drugged and coerced him outside. His watch was gone. A gift from his mother after graduating university. My chain! A present from… Feeling his neck, Drew discovered it missing. Should have taken time to have the weakened clasp serviced. Searching the back of his head with shaky fingers, he wondered how long he’d been out. Scar he touched wasn’t painful. Positive his nose had been broken; it didn’t hurt when he located a bump along the bridge. Unkempt hair fell onto his forehead, chin covered with more than normal stubble bristled beneath fingertips.

How many days had he been butt ass naked in a stranger’s bed? A stranger who acted like…

“Just over a week and the word you’re searching for is vampire.”

Jumping to a sitting position, Drew anticipated pain in his abdomen where the thief repeatedly kicked him. Barely ached. “What?” Vague light filtered through blinds. Not enough to make out features.

“This will help.” Lamp came on beside the chair but there was no sound to indicate use of a remote and the creature hadn’t moved from his seat.

“What did you say?”


“I can’t be away from work that long. I’ll lose my job.”

“It’s losing your job that concerns you?”

“Yes. No. Who the hell are you?” Vampire!

“Call me Sten and your boss does not expect you until next month.”

“A month?”

“Predictable time for humans sustaining injury such as yours.”

“Human?” Peered around in search of an escape route. “God damn it, what did you tell them?”

“Your office was informed you had an auto accident.”

“You lied?”

“I didn’t say anything. My staff, which includes doctors, handles such problems.”

“I take it this isn’t the first time you kidnapped a battered stranger?”

“Actually, it is. Others I allowed to live were collected and tended to.”

“You didn’t kill them?”

“No.” Lips shifted into a stern slash. “And I wouldn’t call it kidnapping. You do recall asking me to save your life?”

“I expected to wake up in a hospital.”

“Instead, you woke in my bed with your secret safe.”


“We’ll talk of that another time.” Sten leaned forward. “What do you really want to know, Drew?”

“Nothing.” Drew took note Sten wore a partially open black shirt revealing an intricately designed tattoo that most of remained hidden. Thin leather strips tied close around his throat contained trinkets. One had small, unidentifiable stones while a longer, thick chain held a circlet. He wasn’t a big man. Nowhere near Drew’s height or weight. Impossible to be what he said. Those monsters are huge. Short to medium height with walnut hued skin, he looked no older than thirty, maybe thirty-five. Slender but if Drew had to guess, lean muscle likely covered his body. “You have short hair.” Clipped hair and neatly trimmed beard were inky black. God, his mouth is… What the fuck am I thinking! “You’re short.” Senseless thoughts.

“Ridiculous musings.” Hollow laughter ricocheted from walls whose color matched a magnificent sunset. “You’ve read too many romance novels.”

“I don’t read those kinds of books.”

“Then why the preconceived idea regarding vampire appearance?”

“I just thought, well, I expected a beast like you would be larger than life.” I watched you kill a man!

“Beast. I see.” He stood and walked to a window. “Evening approaches.” Twisting a rod, blinds opened to allow fading sunlight into the space. “Does your information predict how long before I burst into flames if rays touch me?”

The man had moved fluidly past the bed yet each step appeared measured as if a wild animal reigned in his body ready to break free and pounce its prey. “I don’t…” Drew stared at expensively shod feet. They had made no noise on highly polished wood floors gleaming under admitted sunlight. Bet they cost a pretty penny. He took note pants as black as the shirt fit perfectly. Likely tailored, slacks clung to narrow hips that he had trouble pulling eyes away from and it flustered Drew. “Damn you for bringing me here.”


Warning: This is a Razor's Edge Vampire Erotica novella. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of paranormal heat. If you're looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

About the 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, she can't do those things but she wishes she could! Multi-published author of Romance including Contemporary, LGBTQ, Paranormal, and ReligErotica stories where humans, vampyres, shapeshifters and angels often collide—they collide a lot! When J. Hali's not writing or reading, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.

My Quotes:

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

Death is overrated as punishment. – J. Hali Steele (from The Descendants)

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