Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Monster Erotica Story. 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!
Web Webster’s plan to own the muscle car he’s a passenger in is sidetracked when the driver wrecks the vehicle. Needing a new ID, Web barely has time to inhabit the body beside him. Web’s savior manages the accident with authorities and offers to put Web up at his place. Lying in the man’s bed, Web has one thought. If he’s not gay -- he will be for me!
Casper Wainright is known for his penchant for fast, shiny cars. When a classic beauty rams a tree on his property, he helps the occupant escape before extinguishing the flames. The stranger needs a place to convalesce. Something about the stranger entices Cas, who decides one room in his house has a bed that has been empty far too long. Little does Cas know what evil he’s invited into his life.
Praise for Haint Off the Chain (Haints Misbehaving 4)
"I enjoyed this fun, HOT short. If you are looking for plot, this isn't your story, but if you want a quick diversion with plenty of heat, come on in."
-- 4 Stars from Alias11, Amazon Review
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Haint Off the Chain (Haints Misbehaving 4)
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 J. Hali Steele
Web Webster’s haint had begun a journey of wonderful enlightenment nearly two months ago, with a train wreck outside Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The incident left him trapped inside his little cedar box and unattended in the underbrush.
The box was then recovered by two curious hikers. While one was away, the other opened the tiny chest and released him. Stealing the hiker’s body, Web used his time in their tent to educate himself on the twenty-first century.
In the days that followed, he learned much from the mind in the body he inhabited. Electric lights everywhere, sleek machines -- automobiles, flying machines, and so many things to provide pleasure. Including the other hiker. Turned out the men were lovers.
Web’s best discovery -- men could openly love men. He could have anyone, anything he desired. Even though the hiker’s memories faded, from that day forward Web took whoever and whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
While a mechanical genius in his old life, Web understood numbers. His knowledge, coupled with the recollections of men he subsequently inhabited, aided him in quickly mastering modern day finances. Web had no problem stealing, or what he called overseeing, a human’s bank account after commandeering their lives.
Each time he snatched a new body, he went in search of carnal trysts.
1830s Laurel Bloomery, a small mill town in Tennessee, had been his home. When he sniffed out another like him in Philadelphia, Web decided to lay low, see if the ghost of a man was as angry a haint as Web.
“How long did you plan to follow me?”
Web made a logistic mistake by turning into a partially lit but deserted alleyway with no exit. Trash receptacles lined walls on one side while the other side of the pavement had a building with ground level windows that were dark. At the very end of the alley, steep metal stairs hung from each corner of the building. Web was left with three ways out. Break into a ground level window of what appeared to be a warehouse, climb up one of the fire escapes, or morph into smoke. Last option would be best but something held his feet rooted to the pavement. Jerking around, he struggled to keep his face free of expression. “You knew?”
“Every single time.”
“Damn.” Recognition dawned as Web stared into the haint’s narrowing eyes. “Each time I got you in my sights you appeared as someone different. Your familiar smell was all that alerted me that we were exactly the same kind of creature, though I didn’t know it was you.”
Web scrutinized the gray eyes he remembered well. Badgett was one of two men who had been privileged enough to plow his ass. “It really is you. I mean, you look like, hell, you are Badgett.” The haint’s fragrance infiltrated Web’s nose and lungs, forcing him to place his hands in his pants pockets to prevent him reaching for Badgett’s crotch. Their scents intermingling had caused his cock to harden.
“I go by Bad.”
The man flanking Badgett had dark golden hair and piercing blue eyes. “You’re a haint.” His nostrils quivered. “The same scent of cedar clings to Bad.” A sexy young man, he openly rubbed his crotch as he studied Web.
“Even in a human body, we smell different to each other, Shane.” Bad grasped the youngster’s hand. “Shane Taylor, meet Webster.”
Making note of how tightly the other haint gripped the man’s hand, Web eyed Bad cautiously. “You’re keeping a human for yourself?” The body Web now lived in was the eleventh, maybe twelfth. Starving for human contact and, above all, erotic couplings, he had lost count over the weeks he’d been loose. He’d never encountered a man he wanted to hold onto. Hell, Web no longer even recalled their names.
“Shane makes his own choices.”
“Call me Web.” Web zeroed back in on Badgett. May as well trust him. “A train derailment left the man who originally discovered my cedar box dead and the trinket discarded.” His voice cracked. “Bastard carted me along on business trips and it was painful as hell to hear him talk and fornicate nearly every night. His meetings, always with women, excited and riled me something awful. I discovered I could possess the bodies of others during a fit of rage after finding myself nothing but a cloud of smoke in a Goddamn tent.” Web disliked giving way to reminisces. They often raised questions. But this time he faced someone who might have answers. “You ever wonder why we only recollect our last name?”
“I’ve been various men over the last year. I don’t care anymore.”
Shane leaned and whispered something to Badgett whose laughter rang from the brick walls.
Something Web liked about Philly -- not much attracted attention. Not a single light came on nor did a window open to reveal a nosy body. He’d only have exuded more of his special scent. He figured Bad would have done the same, and both haints’ aromas could lull the nosiest person into submission. “What’s funny?”
“Shane’s wondering two things. One, if how you look is the real you.”
“I, well… How’d you do it? How did you recover your own body, Bad?”
“Concentrate, Web. Search your memory, envision who you were. Want it enough, and you will find yourself.”