Jackal: Desires of Blood, #3

By Ethan Radcliff

 Clifford Dunn is a Hell hound, one who asked to be set free of his bonds of Hell. Alone and despondent, he's dragged into an alley by a beautiful vampire, he's dinner. But she wants more after seeing what most humans don't, his blond beauty and incredibly perfect male form. She'll slake her needs with him, deny his pleas for death and leave him to roam earth alone and forsaken.

But Karma will interfere draw them together in heated passion, the Hell hound and beautiful fallen angel, now an immortal searching for love, will set the pages on fire. Meet them all, the sisters and the man who calls himself their maker, their father Royce, one hell of a vampire.

Jackal is the third book in the series, Desires of Blood.

****Adult content, graphic sex, hot vampires, werewolves, shifters, demons and witches****

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bitten Press LLC
• Release date: Jul 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516389049

Ethan Radcliff

BIO: My name is Ethan Radcliff and I've been writing since I was a kid. I love creating and tried my hand at art, not bad, but not good enough. A guy's gotta eat. Through high school, I wrote erotic stories, kept them in a notebook and let a few girlfriends read them. I played football, baseball and ice hockey, but my brain never stopped thinking of sex. I guess most guys think about it all the time. I decided to put my thoughts into prose. I had been on face book for a while and never did anything interesting until I started to see all the writers. What really caught my attention were the poets, especially some of the ones posting erotic prose.  I was intrigued, men who were writing erotic romance, I knew it was time to get out the old notebook and throw on some poetry. I was surprised at the response. I’ve often been asked what inspires my writing. Sometimes it’s a photograph, a sunset or an attractive woman. The jiggle of a full ass or heavy breasts will set my mind in motion. Sometimes, out of nowhere, an idea will come to mind. I record and write down my thoughts constantly. I want to thank Bitten Press and the two lovely ladies who run it for encouraging me to go for it and I did. I also need to thank a very patient and lovely friend Kendall Blackburn Barnett who is my PA and putting up with my antics. I want to thank all the wonderful people who read what I write. And the lovely ladies who help get the word out there about my writing. As you know, I’m an elusive fellow, smiles, perhaps that’s part of my charm. Who knows what the future holds? My first short story is The Taming of Molly Jenkins. It’s hot. Is it based on personal experience? Don't we all pull from real life? The next short story is The Wait, Brit’s undoing...that I hope you'll enjoy. Since those early works, many more have evolved including a paranormal series, Desires of Blood, DOM, The Collaring of Molly Jenkins and my first novel A Man of Honor.  Two thousand and sixteen brings more full-length novels and I will always venture into new erotic genres. Thank you for listening and to all those who are enjoying my poetry, thank you. Ethan Radcliff

Book preview

Prelude

Jackal, Clifford Dunn, was banished from Hell and sent to Earth to live out his life as a human. Hell took all his powers away, and along with his desire to do evil.

Clifford couldn’t adapt. He wasn’t human and had no desire to be human. So, he wallowed in self-pity and became one of the abysmal humans. Sampling the dark side of humanity, he used drugs, drank himself into a stupor, and fucked his way through humanity. If he’d lost his power of darkness, then he’d create his own.

Clifford sought to regain the powers of evil he’d lost.

Fuck you, he yelled as he stuck another needle in his arm. I’ll never be what you want me to be! he raged as the heroine coursed through his veins.

Then one evening, his life changed. A beautiful vampire with an overwhelming need to feed dragged him, drunk and heroin ridden, off the street. She wasted no time with preliminaries as she bit down on his neck and drank. When she raised her head and looked into his eyes, he saw the recognition there. She saw through the facade and realized he wasn’t human.

You’re no normal human; what are you? she asked.

A Jackal, he answered, his words slurred and barely audible.

She pushed him aside and got to her knees. "Why, of all the creatures walking the streets tonight, did I manage to pick you? If you’re a Jackal, what are you doing here on Earth and in this condition?

His smile took on a sheepish glow.

You’re not a Jackal any longer, are you? You’ve been banished, just like me, she whispered.

Banished isn’t exactly the correct phrase; I asked for this, I wanted out. A hand went to his neck. Damn, those fangs are sharp. His bloodshot blue eyes stared into hers. So, what the fuck is your story? You’re obviously a vampire.

She sank back against the brick wall of the city building. He watched her eyes focus on the darkness, their bright crimson color fading as her vampire persona receded. She turned to him, letting her slender fingers touch his bloodied neck. When she removed them, she licked her fingertips. Shivers ran up and down his spine as he watched her tongue.

I’m a fallen angel and a vampire. I guess you can say I got handed a double whammy, she said, smiling as she bent her head to lick the puncture wounds on his neck, healing them. When she lifted her head and was eye to eye with him, he sighed. She was incredibly beautiful. Her dark green eyes sparkled like emeralds and suited her ivory skin. Her thick mane of honey-blonde hair, with amber highlights, crowned her angelic face.

His fingers touched her face as his fear subsided, and his smile betrayed his apparent interest. The pain in his neck subsided.

Why didn’t you drink me dry? I would welcome it.

You’d welcome death? I thought that also before my sisters gave me immortality.

I’m lost. This human world is confusing, and so are humans. However, because I’ve had a taste of humanity, I can never go back, he said, holding back his sorrow.

Clifford was convinced that nothing could take away his feelings of disillusionment. He was lost in the human world, and his banishment from Hell had made him sink further and further into the abyss.

Clifford was a jackal, a hound born in Hell, and he believed he was nothing without his powers of evil. That was until he looked into her eyes after she’d taken his blood. Had she revived a part of him? Somehow this beautiful creature was making her way into the human world. Of course, she needed to feed now and then. At least she’d found a niche in this strange world, or had she?

He touched her beautiful face, ready to leave reality forever. Finish me off, please, he begged.

Clifford watched her scan over his face. A Hell hound; only I could drag in another lost soul like me. Your blood is so tainted; you’re on a path of self-destruction. She bit her lip, I’m not going to be your savior. I’ve had my fill of your blood; it will sate me for a few weeks. Sorry, it won’t be me who frees you from your earthly bonds."

He sneered at her. Of course not. Why would I even think a fallen angel could help me? I’m doing fine by myself. Get lost, bitch! he yelled at her.

The lovely honey blonde walked out of the alley but turned to face him. My name’s Dahlia. We both seem to be beyond help.

He let out a small, muffled laugh. Nice to meet you, Dahlia, my name’s Clifford Dunn. You may be right. All I can think of is leaving this world. Do you know what humans see when they look at me? Deformity. He’s made sure that the human world would look down on me, made me unattractive and stunted. I can’t even fit in the human world. It’s my punishment for wanting out of Hell.

I can only see your beauty. I’m sorry about your situation, but I can’t help, Clifford. Good luck, and perhaps the next creature you encounter can put you out of your misery. I can’t, or rather, I won’t. However, the thought of ripping your head off has come to mind. But that would be helping you.

He turned from her. She’d walked back to him and grabbed his face to hers and took his lips in a needy kiss. I’m not finished with you, she said softly. Her hands went to his groin, and then her face broke out in a smile. You’re hard, Jackal. I need to be fucked, badly and you’ll do just fine.

His hands came up to her chest to push her away, but it was useless. He’d lost all his strength. So, rather than fight her, he grabbed a handful of blonde hair, pushed her face to his, and returned her hard kiss. His cock was hard and was beginning to ache. It had been months since he’d had a woman. He’d had his pick of beauties before he turned his back on what he was. As he kissed her, fucking her was all that was on his mind.

She’d released him from his ratty jeans. Her slender hands felt good as she rubbed and pulled his cock. She backed up slightly, looking hot and gorgeous, and raised the short tight leather skirt she wore over her perfect thighs, exposing her bare pussy. She rubbed herself, enflaming him even further. He backed up against the brick wall of the building. She was on him, her legs wrapped around his hips, burying his cock in her to the hilt.

She moved her hips fast and hard on him. He did nothing to resist. Their movements were hurried, so release came quickly and almost violently. He sank against the wall as she separated herself from him. He caught his breath, then dropped to the ground. She straightened her skirt and pushed it down over her thighs.

Jackal, thanks.

Yeah, the same here. He leaned against the wall, breathless. He lifted his head and scanned over her body.

Like what you see, Jackal? Angelic, right? More than I can say for you. However, that cock definitely belongs to something evil. You can fuck, she said, pushing her long hair off her face.

He smiled. His incredible blue eyes almost twinkled. His full lips were slightly pursed, and he hoped, beckoning her. Maybe she’d take one last nip. Perhaps she’d change her mind and rip his head off. Snap out of it, he thought. She wasn’t going to kill him. She was a fallen angel, for Christ’s sake. She brushed her hair with her fingers and backed away from him.

I hope you find what you’re looking for, Jackal.

Yeah, me too, he said, as he crouched down, and his head fell on one of his knees. He closed his eyes and touched his neck. Too bad she’d healed his wounds. He could have bled out, and his nightmare would be over. He needed to find some peace. When he opened his eyes to get one last look at her, she’d disappeared. He had the feeling he hadn’t seen the last of Dahlia.

He stood up, walked out of the alley onto the street, and collided with a human. Sorry, his garbled voice said.

Shit, watch where you’re going, man, said the male human. Clifford could see the look of disgust on his face. Clifford couldn’t blame him. He was hideous to the human eye, short and hunched over with bad acne, dark curly hair, and a receding hairline. He smelled offensive to humans—much of his time as a human he’d spent being shunned by them. Clifford almost forgot what he really looked like