Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 394
January 15, 2015
Barbara Meyers: Chemistry 101
I remember the first time Matt brought Erin home. They were sixteen and had a project to work on together for English class. Erin stayed for dinner and like mysterious liquid in beakers heated by Bunsen burners chemistry sizzled between them. They teased each other, one-upped each other and laughed non-stop. They were so cute together.
Erin wouldn’t date Matt for fear of losing his friendship. But they attended prom and weathered a lot of stuff together before graduation. When Erin was in college they (finally) started dating. When they broke up you’ve never seen anything sadder than my son with a broken heart. They got back together briefly (after all the warm fuzzies I’d had for Erin were gone) and broke up again.
They went their separate ways and had relationships with others. For long periods of time there was no contact between them. We never said anything to Matt but in the minds of the rest of our family, we all agreed he was trying to replace Erin.
Fast forward fifteen years. They were both in a time and a place and a maturity level where reconnection was made possible. The chemistry was still there. I’d never see Matt happier. The two of them literally glowed when they were together. Those warm fuzzies? They came back.
That was two years ago. Erin had just finished law school and job hunting was tough. Matt suffered through a debilitating, undiagnosed illness and major surgery. Erin was with him every step of the way and twenty-four seven during a long hospitalization and months of recovery.
Valentine’s Day 2014 they got engaged.
I asked Matt if he regretted all the years they were apart. He says he can’t. Everything they experienced apart made them who they are now and led them back to each other. Erin says in the back of her mind she always felt they’d find each other again.
I started writing NOBODY’S FOOL the year after Matt and Erin graduated from high school inspired by that chemistry between two BFFs. Although it is not based on their relationship at all, I wanted to capture that soulmate feeling of “no one knows you like I do.” And loves you anyway. NOBODY’S FOOL is my story, not theirs, but I couldn’t seem to finish the book until I knew how their story would end.
Nobody’s Fool
She’s home to make amends. He’s out to get a little revenge.
But the heart he breaks could be his own.
The Jolie Kramer who left Oak Ridge at eighteen isn’t the same one who’s home for her ten-year high school reunion. The old Jolie hid her secrets and insecurities behind her popular-girl image.
The new Jolie has returned triumphant from NYC older, wiser, and ready to make amends for the bridges she burned. Especially the one between her and Court Harrison, her biggest supporter since childhood.
Court hates to admit he’s still hung up on Jolie, and he’s vowed to finally put the past way, way behind him. She wants to kiss and make up? He’ll give her a taste of her own medicine. Make her fall for him—only this time, he’ll be the one walking away.
But his plan works a little too well, and by the time he realizes their feelings are real, it’s too late. She’s onto him, and he’s lost the only woman he’ll ever want. Unless she falls for plan B, which contains two things she can’t resist: a career challenge, and a chance to get a little revenge of her own.
My web site: www.barbarameyers.com
Buy Link for Nobody’s Fool: https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5303/nobodys-fool
My WordPress blog: http://barbmeyers.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BarbaraMeyersAuthorPage
Twitter: @barbmeyers
I am running a Catch My Release contest during the month of January. There will be five winners and multiple ways to enter. Details on my web site and FB Author Page. Posting a comment on this blog post during the month of January 2015 equals one entry. Winner will receive their choice of one of my books.
January 14, 2015
Lisa Carlisle: Dark Muse
What do you think about the idea of visiting a retreat where you could focus solely on your art or hobby? What would you focus on?
I’m Lisa Carlisle and I created an art colony at the Chateau DeRoche for the setting in my series Chateau Seductions. The romances are set at an art colony on a remote New England island. Artists can escape the intrusions of everyday life on a remote island to work in an elegant castle complete with writing nooks, libraries, painting studios, and more.
If you could attend a setting like the Chateau DeRoche, would you find yourself engaged or quickly bored? How long would you like to spend there—a few days or months?
The series began with Dark Velvet. The latest release is Dark Muse and I’m working on the draft for Dark Stranger. Here’s more on the latest in the series:
Dark Muse
Dark Muse
Chateau Seduction series
It takes time before Gina Meiro warms up to people and her shyness is often misunderstood. She hasn’t had to worry about meeting new people at a remote art colony until a new resident arrives—a rock guitarist more suited for a billboard. Her carefree days of painting at the medieval-styled castle on a remote New England island are shattered when she stumbles right into his welcome gathering.
After a falling out with his band, Dante Riani wants nothing more at Les Beaux Arts on DeRoche Island than solitude to work on new songs. When a shy young painter asks to paint him at sunset, he’s tempted by the opportunity to be alone with her.
Someone at the colony claims to know what Dante is and asks for his help. Dante fears his plans are coming undone, especially as grows more drawn to Gina. Her scent and vulnerability are too difficult to resist. But he must stay away from her—she would never understand his secret.
Excerpt
Gina bit her lip, building up the courage to speak her mind. “Actually, I was thinking something,” she confessed.
“Go on.”
“It may sound weird, and feel free to say no if it is.”
Dante’s eyes widened. “Something kinky?” he teased.
“No,” she swatted his arm. “Nothing like that.”
“How disappointing. So what’s on your mind?”
“I noticed you when I was inside the castle.” She left out the part about how long and how many days she had done this. “The silhouette of you playing guitar against the sunset is a perfect juxtaposition. Dark against light. The color contrast. The musician playing into the sunset. Brilliant.”
“Hmm.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m wondering where this is going.”
“Would you mind if I painted you one day?”
A smile crept from the corner of his decadent lips. “You don’t paint people often.”
She raised her chin. “I make exceptions when I see something worth painting.” Was she flirting? Time to shut the hell up. Heat rose in from her chest up to her cheeks. Always one to throw an awkward statement, she added, “Nobody would have to know it was you,” she added. “I’d hide your face.”
“You don’t like my face?” The hint of a smile developed into a full-blown smirk.
“No!” She protested. “I do.” Shut up, Gina. You’re making it worse. “I meant for your privacy.”
“So you do like my face?” He grinned.
“I’m a p-painter,” she stammered. “I’m looking at this strictly as an artist not letting an opportunity slip her by.”
“So it’s for art, eh?” His eyes twinkled with amusement.
She nodded. This was a better move than trying to speak.
“I’ll think about it. Had plenty of photo shoots with the band, but never a painting. That’s kind of cool.” He stood up, picked up his guitar, and took a few steps toward the castle. Then he stopped and turned back. “I’d be careful about watching me too closely.”
“Why?” She smiled to match the sassy tone in her voice.
The smirk that had lingered on his face dropped away, replaced by a serious expression. “You might not like what you see.”
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About Lisa Carlisle:
Lisa Carlisle is a USA Today Bestselling author of romance and suspense. She loves stories with dark, brooding heroes and independent, caring heroines. Her romances have been named Top Picks at Night Owl Reviews and All Romance Ebooks. When she was younger, she worked at a variety of jobs in various countries. She backpacked alone through Europe and lived in Paris before returning to the U.S. and draws on her travels for inspiration for settings. Lisa also owned a bookstore for a few years as she loves to read. She’s now married with two kids, has a cat and many fish.
Connect with Lisa:
Newsletter: http://www.lisacarlislebooks.com/subscribe
Website: http://www.lisacarlislebooks.com
Blog: http://www.lisacarlislebooks.com/news
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LisaCBooks – @lisacbooks
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/lisacarlisleauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6463824.Lisa_Carlisle Amazon page: http://www.amazon.com/Lisa-Carlisle/e/B009C7T8L4/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1413555884&sr=8-2-ent Tsu: https://www.tsu.co/lisacarlisle
January 13, 2015
Definitely not Gunsmoke… (Contest)
I have a book to finish slamming today. And I can’t wait to type THE END so I can give my poor hands a rest. I’ve written so many words these past few days that my stumpy little digits ache.
Since I don’t want to spend my fingers on a blog, I’ll get right to the point. I have a book coming on February 10th that’s up for pre-order now! It’s a historical western set in Two Mule, Texas—and yes, to those of you who pay attention, it’s a prequel book to the Lone Stare Lovers series. I love this story. It has tons of humor and sweaty sex. And isn’t this the prettiest cover ever?
Something’s on the rise in Two Mule, Texas. And it ain’t just the temperature.
1880, West Texas
Honey Cafferty lives a happy, if precarious, existence as a traveling saleswoman. She sells her elixirs and potions while searching for the one thing she hasn’t been able to brew from the back of her colorful wagon—a sense of belonging. She arrives in Two Mule, Texas, with her Elixir of Love, a potion that improves a man’s libido but might just get her run out of town.
Sheriff Joe Tanner is protective of his little town. Downright hostile toward anyone who might take advantage of the fine folk under his protection. Any snake-oil salesman who rolls into town better just keep right on rolling.
Honey isn’t what Joe expected, from her vibrant red hair and cat-green eyes to her curvy mouth and hips. And when the men of the town begin to plead exhaustion—and place the blame squarely on her sweet-smelling shoulders—Joe has no choice but to launch an investigation. A very, very deep investigation…
Warning: Contains a sheriff who prides himself on keeping his town running as smooth as a well-greased wagon wheel, and a wandering saleswoman who’s more than a bump (and grind) in his road.
And what’s with the title of this blog? Just havin’ some fun. And if you say you don’t know what Gunsmoke is/was, well that’s just sad. 
Miss Kitty, Marshall Dillon, Festus… If you were like me, you were always waiting for Miss Kitty and Matt to get it on…
Comment for a chance to win a free download of one of my Lone Star Lover books!
Definitely not Gunsmoke…
I have a book to finish slamming today. And I can’t wait to type THE END so I can give my poor hands a rest. I’ve written so many words these past few days that my stumpy little digits ache.
Since I don’t want to spend my fingers on a blog, I’ll get right to the point. I have a book coming on February 10th that’s up for pre-order now! It’s a historical western set in Two Mule, Texas—and yes, to those of you who pay attention, it’s a prequel book to the Lone Stare Lovers series. I love this story. It has tons of humor and sweaty sex. And isn’t this the prettiest cover ever?
Something’s on the rise in Two Mule, Texas. And it ain’t just the temperature.
1880, West Texas
Honey Cafferty lives a happy, if precarious, existence as a traveling saleswoman. She sells her elixirs and potions while searching for the one thing she hasn’t been able to brew from the back of her colorful wagon—a sense of belonging. She arrives in Two Mule, Texas, with her Elixir of Love, a potion that improves a man’s libido but might just get her run out of town.
Sheriff Joe Tanner is protective of his little town. Downright hostile toward anyone who might take advantage of the fine folk under his protection. Any snake-oil salesman who rolls into town better just keep right on rolling.
Honey isn’t what Joe expected, from her vibrant red hair and cat-green eyes to her curvy mouth and hips. And when the men of the town begin to plead exhaustion—and place the blame squarely on her sweet-smelling shoulders—Joe has no choice but to launch an investigation. A very, very deep investigation…
Warning: Contains a sheriff who prides himself on keeping his town running as smooth as a well-greased wagon wheel, and a wandering saleswoman who’s more than a bump (and grind) in his road.
And what’s with the title of this blog? Just havin’ some fun. And if you say you don’t know what Gunsmoke is/was, well that’s just sad. Miss Kitty, Marshall Dillon, Festus… If you were like me, you were always waiting for Miss Kitty and Matt to get it on…
January 12, 2015
Teresa Noelle Roberts: 2015 Dreams (Contest)
At the close of the old year and start of a new one, the Internet sets itself on fire trying to keep up with everyone posting resolutions, goals, plans and wishes for the year to come. I’m definitely one of those ambitious planners dreamers. I even spent part of December taking a wonderful online course, “How to Write 50 Books a Year,” offered by Delilah and her sister Elle James. (Writers: take this class the next time it’s offered. It’s amazingly useful.) With the help of that class, I developed not only an ambitious set of work-related goals for 2015, but a workable plan to achieve said goals.
As I write this blog entry, it’s the sixth day of 2015. (I know you’re actually reading it on January 12, but I had to get the post to Delilah ahead of time). I’m already behind on the word count I needed to finish all the planned books by the end of December 2015. I’ve also started a book that wasn’t on the original work plan, one that popped into my head on January 2 and demanded to be written now. According to calculations I made before I conceived this new novella, I have more than half a million words to write this year, and I can now add another 25,000 words minimum to that. You think I’d be panicking.
But I’m not.
At my age, which is older than Taylor Swift and younger than the average mountain, I’ve learned that no plan survives contact with the enemy, as Eisenhower should have said but didn’t. (It was actually a 19th-century Prussian field marshall named Helmuth Von Moltke, as I discovered when I went to double-check the quote. The literal translation from German is much clunkier, so I’ll stick with the version that Eisenhower may or may not have paraphrased.)
Life likes to keep things interesting. Sometimes it’s in good ways, like throwing a new book idea at you when you were already looking at six or seven books for 2015. Sometimes it’s in a more mind-boggling fashion, like discovering in December, while you’re petting your shiny new 2015 work plan, that you’ve just been assigned a new editor who may have her own ideas about which book she’ll want when. And sometimes it’s just plain stupidity, such as the gaping plot hole into which your almost-finished book falls. (By “your,” of course, I mean “mine.” I know by this point in my career there’s always enough narrative rope to pull the book out of the hole, but when it happens it does kind of spoil the hope of wrapping the first draft up by the end of the week.)
But I can handle these changes of plan. Realizing I’ve mentally committed myself to writing more than half a million words in a year is daunting, but it’s nothing compared to some of the things I’ve done to my poor characters. If I can guide my heroes and heroines in defeating angry demons or government agencies run by evil sorcerers—and finding true love in the process—I can write the narrative of my year so it has a happy ending, even if there are a few plot twists along the way.
What are your goals and/or dreams for 2015? Post something about them in the comments and one random commenter will win a copy of my new (sexy!) paranormal romance Witches’ Waves.
About Teresa
Teresa Noelle Roberts started writing stories in kindergarten and she hasn’t stopped yet. A prolific author of short erotica, she’s also a published poet and fantasy writer—but hot paranormals and BDSM-spiced contemporaries are her favorites. Or they were until she discovered that SF romance offers new possibilities for wild sex, imaginative adventure and love beyond boundaries, so she’s added that sub-genre to her repertoire. Oh, and she’s also half of the writing team known as Sophie Mouette, writing mostly light-hearted spicy romances (with occasional forays into erotica).
Teresa is a crunchy granola girl who enjoys belly dance, yoga, medieval re-creation, playing in the ocean, cooking, and growing more vegetables than she and her husband can possibly eat. She’d enjoy sleeping, too. She thinks. But it takes so much time!
She shares her home in southern Massachusetts with her husband, a Leo in law enforcement, and two overstuffed cats. She and her husband often plan vacations around food, history, and/or proximity to water.
Find Teresa at www.teresanoelleroberts.com, like her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorTeresaNoelleRoberts or follow on Twitter, where she’s @TeresNoeRoberts.
And check out her alter ego Sophie at www.sophiemouette.com.
About Witches’ Waves
Witches’ Waves (Duals and Donovans: The Different, book 4)
Samhain Publishing
“The overall message is one of hope and the healing that love can help bring, w/some really hot sex […] for good measure.” Four stars—Romantic Times
“This novel definitely hooked me for this series.”—From Me to You Video, Photography and Book Reviews
“Well written and full of emotional depth.”— Manic Readers
Buy links: Samhain /Amazon / Amazon UK / B&N Nook / Kobo / iBooks (iTunes)
The ocean is on their side. But the fight is on land—and it’s about to get dirty.
Duals and Donovans: The Different, Book 4
Long held captive as the Agency’s secret weapon—a blind witch with visions—Meaghan has come to a line she refuses to cross. Rather than betray the infant “child of five bloods” to the Agency’s scientists, she chooses death. Except when she throws herself into the ocean, she doesn’t die. Her repressed water magic comes to life.
When the sodden, delirious witch drifts into Kyle’s arms, his otter dual instincts tell him to get her to the Donovans as fast as possible. Even though one particular surfer-dude Donovan broke his heart.
Declan Donovan continually kicks himself for pushing Kyle away, but his touchy combination of water, earth and lightning magic is too volatile, and Kyle wanted more than Deck was ready to give.
When they come together to help Meaghan control her new magic, it leads the Agency straight to the child of five bloods. They’ll have to dive head-first into total trust—in their magics, in themselves and in each other—to save the child and stop the Agency once and for all.
Warning: Contains an oceanful of sex between an ethereal blind heroine who swears like a pissed-off Marine, an overly serious otter shifter, a would-be beach bum who may be descended from a Norse god, in permutations as fluid as the sea – and themes of abuse and recovery.
Series blurb:
Welcome to an America where the non-human Different and magically gifted humans live among ordinary people. Witches are both feared and honored, but shape-shifting Duals are treated as second-class citizens. The Agency, a government agency that’s supposed to monitor illegal uses of magic and Different abilities, has developed its own dangerous agenda. But when Duals and witches join forces, the Agency and other bad guys aren’t going to know what hit them.
And neither are the witches and Duals. Witch magic grows from the positive energy of love and sex–and the only thing better than one dual for sex magic is two of them!
January 11, 2015
Paisley Smith: Beguiled (Contest)
Ever since seeing Gone With the Wind when I was nine years old, I’ve been fascinated with the Civil War era. Of course, growing up in the South, I was surrounded by antebellum homes graced with Greek Revival columns, steeped in legends that fired my imagination as surely as Sherman burned a swath to the sea.
But the Civil War was more than a brother against brother fight to hold onto an archaic and brutal way of life. The Civil War furthered not only the rights of African-Americans, but those of women as well.
American Red Cross founder, Clara Barton, stated that the Civil War caused “fifty years in the advance of the normal position” of women.
Historian, Barbara Welters, referred to mid-nineteenth century women as “hostages of the home.” Women were supposed to be pious, pure, submissive, and domesticated. The Civil War changed that.
Some women worked as nurses, a job that prior to the war was held mostly by men. The women’s rights movement flourished under luminaries such as Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton.
And then, there were women who donned uniforms, disguised themselves, fought—and sometimes died—alongside men.
Some were wives who couldn’t bear to be separated from their husbands. Still others saw the war as a chance for independence.
Sarah Rosetta Wakeman, who fought with the 153rd New York Volunteers, wrote home to her family, “I am independent as a hog on ice.”
It is estimated some 400 females fought during the Civil War. These women’s struggles and intrepid strength inspired the character of Union soldier, Alice O’Malley, in my historical, lesbian romance, Beguiled.
About Beguiled:
The Civil War has torn Isabelle Holloway’s world apart, and now she has little help to manage her vast Georgia plantation. But when the Union Army leaves a brash Yankee Zouave behind, Isabelle is inexplicably moved to nurse this gravely wounded, startlingly beguiling soldier.
Alice O’Malley wants nothing more than to recover from her injuries, don her male attire, and rejoin the Federal Army. But after the alluring Southern Belle discovers her true identity, their clash of wills soon transforms into passion-filled nights in each other’s arms. Alice has been in love with a woman before, and fears risking everything for her enemy lover. As war returns to Isabelle’s doorstep, Alice discovers the wounds of the heart are far more vital to heal than the wounds of the flesh.
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Excerpt:
With a sigh, Isabelle ventured into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you feeling better? Do you still have fever?” Before she thought better of it, she touched the back of her hand to Alice’s forehead. She was cooler than before but still warm to the touch.
Alice froze. Her eyes widened and the look of shock in her blue eyes caused a strange fluttering in Isabelle’s stomach. Alice’s stare captivated Isabelle’s, refusing to relinquish its hold—direct, penetrating, seeming to take her in all at once. The innocent touch suddenly became charged with something akin to lightning. Something too intimate. Dangerous.
Shaking herself into motion, Isabelle withdrew her hand and brushed her hair back toward her chignon. Even though she curled her fingers into a loose fist, she could still feel the ghost of warm, dewy skin. She rubbed her palm on her apron, wishing she’d checked her reflection in the mirror. Her nose was probably red. Tear stains doubtless shone on her face.
Heat rose and settled in her cheeks under Alice’s piercing stare.
Clearing her throat, Isabelle averted her gaze. “W-what possessed you to join the Union Army?”
“After the emancipation proclamation was issued, I felt I needed to help right an injustice.” Alice’s hint of a brogue overshadowed the meaning of her words.
Isabelle regarded her once more, trying to absorb the meaning. “Lincoln signed that proclamation over a year ago.”
Alice’s chin dipped in a nod. “Aye.”
Isabelle wanted to argue that the proclamation did not refer to slaves in Union-held portions of the Confederacy, but she couldn’t shake the rampant images in her head of Isabelle charging into battle. “You’ve been in the Union Army for a year? An entire year? How’d you hide…your identity?”
Alice shrugged one shoulder. “When you can shoot straighter, march farther, and fight harder than any man, they don’t tend to ask too many questions.”
One corner of Isabelle’s mouth twitched as she fought off a grin. It irritated her that she found humor in the thought of a woman—this woman—fooling so many men. But she did.
From where she sat, Isabelle studied the remnants of Alice’s uniform with its distinctive red, blousing breeches and blue, cutaway jacket decorated with red piping. “Why the Zouaves?”
Alice raked a trembling hand through her short hair. “A good many other Irish were in it. I knew they’d accept me. Besides, the uniform concealed…more.” With that, her plush lips curled up on one side in a smile that sent a jolt of something Isabelle couldn’t define straight to her pantalets.
She swallowed, instantly dismissing the unwelcome sensation. “Laws of mercy! You’ve all but ruined your chances of making an advantageous marriage.” Heat crept up her neck. Her pulse accelerated and she didn’t know why.
Perhaps merely because the idea of wearing a man’s clothing, of pretending to be one, seemed so taboo. So decadently sinful.
“Married? Me? Oh no. I’ll never stand at the altar. Of that you can rest assured.” Alice dismissed that idea with a wave of her hand.
Isabelle blinked. What sort of woman wouldn’t want to marry? But she knew the answer to that. The sort of woman who’d join up with the army and fight. The sort of woman whose livelihood wasn’t dependent on a man. “How will you make your way in the world? You can’t go on pretending to be a man forever.”
Her Beguiling Bride
Be sure to pick up a copy of the novella length sequel, Her Beguiling Bride!
Three years have passed since Isabelle Holloway gave her heart to Alice O’Malley, the brash woman Union soldier left on the doorstep of Isabelle’s Georgia plantation. Now Reconstruction Era taxes threaten their home, and Isabelle must decide between the female lover whose touch sets her flesh and soul ablaze, or a cold marriage to a wealthy man and an even colder bed. In hopes of saving the plantation, Isabelle and Alice travel to Savannah where doors close at every turn. Until Alice tenders a scandalous proposal that could cost them everything…or offer them the love of a lifetime.
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Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for a copy of Beguiled!
Print or ebook, winner’s choice.
About Paisley Smith
Paisley Smith is a full time author who can usually be found in front of her computer either writing, chatting, promoting or plotting. It’s a glamorous life…working in one’s pajamas. She attended college in the Deep South where she obtained a slew of totally useless degrees and developed an unrelenting sense of humor. Website: http://PaisleySmith.net
January 10, 2015
Flashback: Shattered Souls (Contest)
I’ve written a lot of books and every one of them is special to me, but there are a few that are my favorite babies. Shattered Souls is one of those. From the moment I dreamed the pivotal scene in the first act, I was driven to write this story. I knew Cait inside and out from day one. I didn’t know exactly what she was capable of, but she led me through her story, bitching all the way. The words came fast, just as though they were being fed through a funnel. Like they weren’t coming from me at all. The sequel was almost as fun to write, although there was one particular scene that just about killed me. Those of you who read Lost Souls will know which one I mean… Enjoy the excerpt.
If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered
to win a free audiobook of the story below!
Shattered Souls
“SHATTERED SOULS shocked me with its exhilarating story line and its magical world of Witches, Wraiths and Demons. Ms. Devlin wrote an intriguing urban fantasy with just the right balance of romance, nail-biting scenes and well-developed characters. She really got me hooked from the beginning until the end.” 5 Feathers and Top Pick, Under The Covers
“An intriguing paranormal tale that combines romantic suspense with a mesmerizing tale of otherworldly beings.” Top Pick, Night Owl Reviews
“Delilah Devlin has created a fascinating world of magic and the mundane in SHATTERED SOULS… A terrific book, SHATTERED SOULS will leave you breathless for more.” 4.5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies
When her mentor is brutally murdered by a supernatural force, an alcoholic former cop turns to her past lovers—her ex-partner and a powerful sorcerer—to help her hunt down a demon terrorizing Memphis.
Caitlyn O’Connell had it all: a career with the Memphis PD, a passionate marriage, and the satisfaction that her work made a difference in the world. But she also had a secret, a supernatural “gift” that cost her everything. Now she scrapes by as a private investigator, taking cases the cops won’t touch and counting down the minutes until happy hour. But when Sam Pierce, her former partner and estranged ex-husband, comes to her for help with a bizarre murder case, Cait can’t say no. And not just because Sam is still as irresistibly sexy as he was on the day they met. Something sinister—and demonic—is terrorizing Memphis, leaving a bloody trail of bodies and clues only Cait can read. Together she and Sam will venture into a dark world of magic and unholy terror, hunting a killer who will lead them to the brink of reality as they know it—and back into the thrall of their stormy past. Steamy and suspenseful, Shattered Souls is the pulse-quickening new offering from romance author Delilah Devlin.
“You don’t remember calling him here last night, do you?” Sam said evenly.
Cait closed her eyes. Bad move. The floor shifted beneath her feet. “No.” She didn’t remember making the call, didn’t remember if she’d come. She didn’t remember a damn thing past her fourth Scotch at O’Malley’s. Par for the course. And why she didn’t work past midnight these days.
The ever-present whispers softened, almost extinguished, and she swallowed, really needing that shot of Scotch now. She opened her eyes and met Sam’s flinty gaze.
Disappointment shone in his face. Anger she could have shrugged off, but this was the same look he’d worn through the last days of their marriage. It still cut her to the bone.
“This was Henry’s room?” She lifted her chin because she didn’t want him guessing that shame heated her cheeks.
“He registered yesterday. And we found his wallet on the nightstand.”
“What was he doing here?” Her head pounded, and she fought to pull together her thoughts. “The last time we talked he was in Florida, enjoying his retirement.”
“I hoped you’d be able to answer that.” He drew in a deep breath and ruffled the top of his head with a hand—a clear indication of his frustration. “Have a look around the room. Tell me what you see.”
“Your team’s been all over it. What can I add?”
“Humor me.”
She shrugged casually while a bad, bad feeling crept along her spine. When his expression settled into stubborn lines, she knew he’d just wait her out. So she stood in the center of the floor and visually scanned the room, looking for clues about what had gone down while she fought emotions she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Henry had been her first partner when she’d been a brand-new detective. He’d shown her the ropes, fussing and castigating her every time she’d missed a clue or screwed up something. He’d stayed on her ass until the day he’d handed in his badge and gun, satisfied she’d do just fine without his mentorship.
She’d missed the ornery cuss but hadn’t had a lot of time to mope because Sam had been assigned as her new partner. And, well, suddenly the strict lines she’d drawn between her personal life and work had blurred. Deliciously.
Now wasn’t the time to reflect. With fists on hips, Sam waited for her to tell him something he didn’t already know. Her gaze went back to the bed. To where everything had started.
Henry had put up one hell of a fight. Her stomach lurched.
“Looks like his attacker surprised him while he slept,” she said, eyeing the spray pattern on the headboard and wall above it. “He must have suffered a head wound. Don’t know how he didn’t go down, as much blood as there is here.” Again, she shivered, wondering how hard combing the room must have been for the team. Everyone had loved Henry.
She glanced at the blood soaked into the brown carpet beside the bed. “He was still fighting. His head hit the comforter here.” She pointed at the rumpled bedding that had been pulled half off the bed. “Then the floor. These stripes,” she said, kneeling beside parallel lines of blood, “…he must have been facedown, and the guy was dragging him.” She glanced behind her and stilled. The stripes, like fingertips digging at the carpet, streaked all the way to the dresser. “That’s…weird.”
Cait glanced at Sam and noted the sharpening of his gaze. He had known she’d be struck by the oddness of the direction of the pattern. Whispers grew louder, and she rose.
With slow steps she approached the dresser, noted small, round smudges on the front pieces of several of the scattered drawers. She squatted next to the dresser and peered upward, seeing for the first time the dried ovals just underneath the dresser top. He’d gripped the dresser top, but from what angle? Sweat popped out on her forehead. Her anxiety deepening, she took a deep breath. His bloody fingers left streaks across the top. Scrapes left by fingernails, mixed with the blood, ended at the glass.
Her glance caught on one more telltale clue, and her stomach tightened. This time, she was afraid she’d add vomit to the gore already present in the room. Cait raked a hand through her tangled hair. She needed to get out of here and let the techs and the detectives figure out what had happened, because she wasn’t ready to complete the trail.
Goddamn, she really needed a drink.
“Don’t stop now,” Sam said, an edge of warning in his softly spoken words.
“I can’t do this,” she said, swallowing hard and dropping her gaze to her hands, which had begun to shake. The whispers that always rose when there was trouble of a spooky persuasion clamored in her head. So loud, so many. She couldn’t distinguish the words, but she understood their warning.
“Henry was your partner,” Sam ground out, his gaze narrowed. “Your mentor. You can’t walk away from this one.”
She snorted and shot him a glare. “You walked away from me.”
“You left me a long time before I moved out.”
Still avoiding his stare, Cait took a deep, quivering breath. She couldn’t think straight.
“I need you on this one, Cait.”
He used “the voice.” The one that made her putty in his hands to mold whichever way he wanted. The one that made her melt, but not because he’d turned on any heat. It was more the ragged, naked texture.
Unless he felt he really needed her, he wouldn’t be asking for her help. She was the last person on the planet he’d ever want to ask. Begging her had to be costing him.
She owed him. Big-time. He’d helped her leave the force with her dignity still intact. Pointed her toward Jason and his agency. In reality, he’d saved her life.
Cait straightened her shoulders, then looked at the handprint on the mirror attached to the dresser’s top. “I don’t get it.” She glanced at the bare, white ceiling. “It’s almost like the killer used a pulley to haul him feet first off the floor and drag him up the dresser.”
“Look again, Cait. I know you see it.”
A shudder ran through her. Cait didn’t want to. She averted her face from the glass. From the one bloody outline she knew shouldn’t be where it was. Henry had fought an attacker in this room. He’d fought ferociously. The mussed bedclothes, the shattered furniture, the sprayed blood—all told the story.
But the scene was as if the room had been turned upside down. The streaks led to the dresser, all the way up to the frame surrounding the old mirror.
“The handprint can’t be his,” she whispered. “He was upside down. Lifted somehow. By the feet. But the fingers of the handprint point upward. Your techs, can they get a clear print?”
“Look again, Cait,” Sam repeated.
The sharper edge to his voice told her he’d keep her there until she faced it.
Cait swallowed and forced her gaze to rest on the handprint. Dark brown, and it glistened. As though frozen.
Again…weird. The print wasn’t raised but appeared flat. Frowning, she glanced back to see if it was OK for her to touch. Sam gave her a nod, and she leaned closer to touch the glass. Her finger slid along the smooth, clean surface.
How—? She jerked back her hand and rubbed it on her hip.
“You see why I needed you?”
She didn’t bother looking back. “You don’t believe in this shit.”
“I’m skeptical,” he said, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “But explain how a bloody goddamn handprint is on the inside of the glass.”
With a shake of her head, she backed away from the dresser. “I can’t. Waste of time bringing me here.”
Sam caught her shoulders from behind. “All those times you asked me to trust your gut,” he whispered harshly beside her ear. “Prove there’s something to it. That you weren’t just losing it to the booze.”
Her face began to crumple, then she tightened her expression and shrugged out of his grasp. As far as Sam Pierce was concerned, she was all cried out. But she might feel satisfied to let him take a walk in her shoes. Just for a day or two. Long enough to find out who…or what…had taken Henry.
She jerked her head toward the dresser, which was pulled four inches away from the wall. “Your guys move the dresser?”
“Yeah, trying to see whether they could pull the silver off the back and get at that print.”
A waste of energy. She shoved the dresser back in place, careful not to leave a print on the edges, and making sure to match up the dresser’s legs with the grooves in the carpet. Then, hoping she didn’t sway and fall on her ass, she stepped into the casing of an empty drawer and onto the dresser top.
From her perch, she peered into the mirror at the reflected image of the hotel room. She stared at the handprint, noting up close the frosted texture. The blood had crystallized.
Then she moved from side to side, peering into the mirror from different angles. Not until she stood on her toes and peered downward did she find what she’d hoped with all her heart she wouldn’t. Her breath caught in her throat.
Henry’s body lay at the foot of the dresser, his bruised and bloody face a deathly gray blue.
January 9, 2015
Leigh Court: Fear Of Flying (Contest)
Confession: I’ve pretty much always been afraid to fly. It started at age 18, with a rough plane ride on my first flight to Europe. Since then I’ve tried not to let my fear of flying control my life, but every time I board a plane, I can’t help but get a little nervous. Ironically, (since I didn’t actually search them out), I’ve had a fortune teller assure me I’ll never die in a plane crash and an astrologer friend tell me I will live to a nice old age. I think of those two women every time I buckle my seatbelt!!
But now I’ve found a way to turn my fear of flying into a positive thing:
I’m the author of nine books, and the advice always given to writers is “write what you know.” So for my latest story, aptly titled Fear Of Flying, I decided to get semi-autobiographical. I gave my heroine, Jessie Jordan, a fear of flying and wrote her story based on many of the real-life experiences I’ve had.
A job as a book publicist? Check. On a nationwide book tour with a travel writer? Check. Winter de-icing of plane wings and bouts of white-knuckle clear air turbulence? Check!
Everyone probably has stories of scary plane flights, me just more than most people. And I included them all in this book! Pretty much everything in it is true, except for the ex-military travel writer hero of the story, Regan Quade, whose lust for Jessie helped make this a very hot contemporary romance!
Here’s the blurb:
“You’re never going to die in a plane crash…”
A mysterious fortune teller’s prediction plays right into book publicist Jessie Jordan’s biggest fear. A difficult childhood has left Jessie determined to control all aspects of her life, but she can’t control airplanes…
Travel writer Regan Quade also has control issues. A devastating event during his time in the military has scarred him into believing he needs to remain single. He can’t risk being responsible for anyone else’s life.
But during a nationwide media tour to promote Regan’s newest travel book, Jessie’s fear of flying prompts Regan to help calm her anxiety in a shocking – and highly intimate! – way.
The sudden change in their relationship unleashes their mutual attraction, but Jessie doesn’t know if there’s any way to pierce the wall Regan’s built around his heart.
This romance is definitely one wild ride! I’ve gotten some great reviews and some wonderful feedback from readers. Here are two buy links if this sounds like a fun read to you…
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1CNHQX5
Nook: http://bit.ly/1xoXbsy
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1xuh2tH
Now that you know I’m afraid of flying, it’s time to share! Tell me about one of your fears and how you cope with it. I’ll pick a comment at random to win an e-copy of Fear Of Flying.
Best,
Leigh
www.leighcourt.com
January 8, 2015
A. Catherine Noon: Home — What Izzit?
They say, “Home is where the heart is.” James Otis said, “A [person’s] home is [their] castle.” There are books on buying a home, creating a home, remodeling the home you have, loving your home, and making a second home.
But what, exactly, is “home”?
For me, I don’t feel “at home” unless there are books, a piano, and cats. Failing cats, at least pets of some kind, preferably mammals. That’s what’s necessary to make it not just a house, but a home. I’m always puzzled by people without books. I’m told there is a creature who is “not a reader,” but that is as alien to me as breathing the atmosphere on Venus. And no pets? What blasphemy is that?
More esoteric, perhaps, is the existence of a piano. I wander, room to room, wondering what’s missing, and if I see a piano, I stop, comforted. Somehow, the fact of the piano calms me and lets me know I’m in a place that can be called a home.
While musing on home, and creating art, and music, and all sorts of other things that writers muse upon at the crest of a new year, I created the mandala above. It’s a word art representing the question of “What is home?”
But I’m curious, Dear Reader: what makes you feel at home?
—
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” – E.E. Cummings
**New** SEALED BY FIRE is available from LooseId LLC. An All Romance eBooks Bestseller!
The Chicagoland Shifters series:
Book 1 BURNING BRIGHT, available from Samhain Publishing.
Book 2 TIGER TIGER, available from Samhain Publishing. An All Romance eBooks Bestseller!
The Persis Chronicles:
**Coming Soon!** Watch for EMERALD KEEP from Torquere Books, out April 2015!
Check out EMERALD FIRE, available from Torquere Books.
Check out COOK LIKE A WRITER , available from Barnes and Noble.
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January 7, 2015
Roni Loren: Reading Resolutions for the New Year (Contest)
It’s that time of year again. The time when we set bright and shiny goals and resolutions. I talked about some of my personal resolutions on my blog recently. But today I thought I’d talk about the resolutions we set as readers.
In general, it seems most people don’t set reading goals. But I’ve found that in the romance community, we’re all about the reading challenge. And I love that. I love having some goal set that I’m working toward with books. Last year, I created my Push Your Boundaries reading challenge to try to encourage me and others to step outside our favorite genres on occasion and expand our reading horizons. I did pretty well, hitting about 75% of the categories I’d set up. But this year, I’m not sure what challenges I want to do beyond my number goal of reading at least 60 books.
I want to continue to read widely and not just in my favorite genres because I definitely discovered some books/authors I liked last year that I never would’ve found without the Push Your Boundaries challenge. But I don’t know if I’ll do it as a formal challenge. And I’ve done the 50/50 challenge a few times before—50 books and 50 movies in a year—which was fun, but I’m not sure I want to focus on movies this year. I’m more behind on TV shows. And I’m way behind on my TBR pile because, lawd, do I have a lot of unread books. I may have a book buying addiction—shh, don’t tell. 
So maybe I’ll fashion some challenge this year that focuses on decreasing the TBR pile I already have and on watching some of those TV series that have piled up on my DVR and Netflix cue. Hey, maybe I’ll call it the Catch Up Challenge, lol.
But here’s what I want to know from you:
What reading goals are you setting this year? Do you set a number? Do you participate in some of the fun annual reading challenges that book bloggers host? Tell me your favorites! I’m a sucker for a reading challenge.
CONTEST: Leave a comment and get a chance to win a copy of my book, NOT UNTIL YOU!
And if you want to help fund my book buying addiction (*wink*), here’s my newest release—a hot m/m/f ménage!
About NOTHING BETWEEN US:
From the New York Times bestselling author of Need You Tonight comes a steamy Loving on the Edge novel that proves watching is only half the fun…
Unlike the heroine of her popular thriller series, Georgia Delaune can’t afford to take risks or push sexual boundaries–unless you count spying through her neighbor’s bedroom window, and never missing a single move he makes.
Colby Wilkes is more than willing to put on a show for the alluring woman next door. But his dominant side aches to show her the pleasures of submission up close. As a counselor, Colby is sensitive to Georgia’s fears. As a Dom at The Ranch, a private BDSM retreat, he’s the perfect teacher to unleash her passion.
But just as Georgia lowers her emotional barriers, an unexpected complication arrives: a bad boy musician from Colby’s past who adds fuel to her heated imagination. Now, the lonely author has two gorgeous men eager to fulfill every fantasy she’s ever written–and one she’s never dared to dream….
