Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 497

Snippet Saturday: Sassy Characters

A quick note! Be sure to get your free copy of TWO HOT this weekend: Link to FREE COPY

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People protect themselves in different ways. Sometimes, it's through silence—if you never attempt to connect, you won't be hurt. Sometimes, it's through a clever quip—something stinging or so clever it makes potential mates back away. In this scene you have have both.

"A FOUR-GONE CONCLUSION is a prime example on how a novella should be written; fast and fun, touching characters that pull you in and a story that is completely fulfilling."

4.5 Cherries, Long and Short Reviews

One devilish night…or a chance at heaven?

Sam Logan's foster sons have a bad rep in Two Mule, Texas. Most of it earned. When it becomes clear they don't plan on giving up scootin' after ever pretty pair of boots in town anytime soon, he issues the one thing he knows they can't resist: a challenge. Find a wife.

The oldest, Johnny, is actually grateful. He's had his eye on Mean Ellie Harker for a long time, and Sam's challenge is the kick in the pants he needed to ask her out. Except before he can make his move, his brothers kidnap her right out from under his nose. Now, instead of being one question away from victory, he has to compete for the woman of his dreams.

Ellie thought she'd be a dried up old spinster before Johnny finally untangled his tongue long enough to ask for a date. But instead of teaching him better uses for that tongue, his brothers have whisked her away to the ranch. At first she's furious…then intrigued when she starts to wonder what it might be like…

Warning: Four handsome cowboys. Four choices. Would it be a single sordid night or a chance at heaven as she savors every luscious inch of the Logan brothers?

"I could help you, you know," Killian said, his tone casual.

Too casual. Johnny grunted. "With what?"

"Gettin' you a wife."

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Worry about findin' your own."

"It's not how it works, bro. We're brothers."

"We're not blood."

"Blood's not what counts."

Which was a sorry damn truth they all knew too well. Blood had failed them all.

Johnny cussed under his breath. "How would you help? You gonna chat her up for me? You gonna tell her what a catch I am?"

"Well, you are. You stand to inherit a fourth of the Double Tree. And I've seen the way women look at you."

Johnny snorted.

"You're not a bad lookin' guy.

Johnny aimed a blistering glare his way. "You gonna ask me out?"

Killian grinned. "Just statin' the facts. You're not hard on the eyes. And you're tall. Girls like that. And they like your hair. They like you fine until you give 'em that thousand-yard stare like you're sightin' down a rifle barrel."

Johnny gave him his meanest glare. "This isn't gonna work."

Killian gave a waggle of his eyebrows. "I'll help. What're brothers for?"

"You're just hoping I'll snag a wife and that'll be the end of it. You'll be off the hook."

"Maybe."

"You think this is funny."

"Watchin' you tryin' to sweet talk a woman—yeah, it'll be the most fun I've had in while. So where do you wanna start?"

Johnny didn't answer but he passed up the most obvious place. The saloon's parking lot was already full. Instead, he turned onto Main Street and slowed as he searched for a parking place.

Killian straightened in his seat. "You're not thinkin' of Ellie, are you?"

The way Killian said it intimated he thought Johnny had lost his mind. Maybe he had. But she was the first woman he'd thought of when Sam had mentioned the stew. "She can cook."

Killian gave an exaggerated shudder. "But she's mean."

"Should be perfect for me then, don't you think?"

Killian gave a bark of laughter then crammed his cowboy hat on his head.

Johnny raked his hair with his fingers and wished he'd thought to bring a rubber band to tie it back. However, Killian had said girls liked his long, straight hair. He didn't know why he'd kept it. It was the one most glaring trait that set him apart from his brothers. The last vestige of the heritage he'd thrown off when he'd run away from life on the reservation.

He trailed behind Killian, who stepped out with a bounce in his step, likely grinning his ass off that Ellie Harker was the first woman who'd come to his mind. What he didn't know was that Johnny had been working up the courage to ask her out, sitting in the diner week after week, but never quite finding the right way to do it.

Killian pushed through the door of the café. Johnny caught it before it slammed in his face, but didn't say a word. Already, he could feel his body tensing at the thought of talking to the woman.

She'd taken over the running of Katie's Diner when Katie's belly got too big and her husband, Cutter Standifer, had insisted she hire a cook until after the birth of their first child.

Inside, the smell of freshly baked apple pie assailed him, and his belly rumbled loudly. There could be worse things than being hitched to a mean woman, especially when she could cook almost as well as Gracie.

The place was busy. Wade Luckadoo's girl, a college kid home for the summer with blue streaks in her white-blond hair, glided out of the kitchen with a tray balanced on one hand. "Someone'll be right with you. Take a seat if you can find one."

Killian headed to the counter and slid onto a stool then patted the empty one beside him. Johnny felt his face harden to stone, his usual mask in public, as he sat. From this vantage they had a view straight into the kitchen where Ellie was working.

One glance and his body stilled, breath leaving in a quiet sigh. She was a pretty woman, although her looks weren't flashy like most men might prefer. Pale blonde hair, pretty milk-colored skin, and he didn't need to see what stretched below. Her well-padded curves were burned into his memory.

Right now, her cheeks were rosy, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on her brow. Johnny stared, wondering, not for the first time, whether she'd taste like everything she cooked.

Ellie pushed back a lock of her pale hair that fell over her hazel eyes with the back of her hand and then glanced up. Her startled gaze met his for a second then quickly darted to his brother before falling away.

He kept right on staring, wondering how long it would be before she'd come out to check on the customers first-hand.

Killian leaned toward him to whisper. "See? She was lookin'."

"She looked at you too. Would have looked at Ole Win's ugly face if he'd taken a seat right in front of her."

"But she wouldn't have blushed."

"She's cookin' over a stove. Of course her cheeks are pink."

Killian grunted. "You are the stubbornest man I've ever known. She's interested."

Johnny didn't like the little thrill of hope that warmed him. No use getting excited when Killian was only trying to warm him up to the challenge. "She looked at you too," he repeated under his breath.

Killian arched a brow. "We could follow in the twins' footsteps…"

"I'm not sharin' a wife with you."

"Only one of us can marry her, but seein' as you're a little stunted in the courtin' arena, you might need someone watchin' out for your interests. I can close this deal for you, bro."

Johnny thought about all the times he'd rehearsed the perfect opening line but sat tongue-tied when Ellie's attention landed right on him. He might need some help all right. "Say I was to agree to let you help. No one else would have to know?"

Killian's lips curved in a sly arc. "No one other than Ellie."

Johnny ground his teeth. "I might need a little help. The woman ties my tongue into a knot."

"You just do what you always do. Play the silent Injun. Be mysterious. Leave the rest to me."

Johnny didn't like it one bit, but he didn't see another way around it. And the last thing he'd admit to Killian was that Sam's pronouncement had given him the nudge he'd needed. He'd had his eye on Mean Ellie Harker for weeks but hadn't gotten up the gumption to do anything about it.

He nodded, then instantly regretted agreeing when Killian's mouth stretched into a wider grin.

"Not a word to the twins," he said, gritting his teeth.

"It'll be our little secret."

The kitchen door swung open and Ellie breezed out, a towel over her shoulder and a pitcher of water in her hand. She grabbed two tumblers from under the counter and set one in front of each man. "What can I do for you boys?"

Johnny bristled. No one called him a boy except Sam these days. And the way she said it with that wicked glint in her eyes told him she knew he didn't like it.

Killian leaned over the counter and tilted back his head. "Sweetheart, how come no one's married you out from under this place?"

Johnny stepped on Killian's boot and ground his heel into his brother's toe.

Killian grimaced but didn't turn away from Ellie's narrowing glance.

"Guess I've just been lucky," she said, her tone brisk. "What'll it be? We've got meatloaf and mac tonight."

"Just pie. Johnny here's been goin' on and on about how good your pie is."

"Has he now?" Her razor glance flicked to Johnny, and he felt its scrape against his cheek. She leaned closer, her face inches from his. "What do you say, cowboy? Want me to top it with cream?"

He gulped at her throaty purr. Not a sound he'd ever heard her make. His dick stirred and his cheeks heated. "Vanilla," he ground out.

She tsked. "A shame. Not what I had in mind at all."

His mind went blank for a second. "Um, you meant whipped?"

She gave a wicked chuckle, and his skin burned like fire.

"Now, that's more like it," she said, her voice deepening into husky purr again.

Beside him, Killian choked on laughter.

Ellie straightened and raised both brows. "Pie comin' up. À la mode." She turned on her heel, but not before he saw a hint of a smile on her face.

"Not bad, bro. Not bad at all."

"Not bad?" Johnny growled. "She thinks I'm an idiot."

"She was flirtin' with you."

"She knows I can't get a word out that makes a lick o' sense around her."

Killian turned his gaze from the sashay of her pretty bottom. "She knows you're interested."

"How long we gotta sit here?"

"'Til this place closes down. Don't eat that pie too quick."

"It'll be soggy."

"Then get another slice."

Johnny ducked his head and turned to watch Ellie as she refilled glasses, pausing to share a word or a quick quip. She had a way with her customers. A sassy flare. With her other customers anyway. Most times, she just ignored him. Or teased him, like tonight, until he couldn't think he was so damn hard.

Her head tilted back in laughter at something a couple said to her, then turned to catch him watching her.

For once, he didn't let his glance skitter away. He held her gaze, let her note where he looked, and then burned a slow trail down her body.

This time, he saw her throat work around a gulp.

Killian nudged him with an elbow. "Not bad, bro. Not bad at all."

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Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors' blogs:

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Rhian Cahill

Jody Wallace

Eliza Gayle

Lissa Matthews

Mandy M Roth

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

HelenKay Dimon

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

Shiloh Walker

TJ Michaels

Zoë Archer

Guest Blogger: Susan Ashworthy/Christie Walker Bos

Some Like it Hotter

As the author of three romantic comedies, I was comfortable in my genre. I knew how to make my readers laugh with my characters and sigh at the most romantic moments. My romantic comedies are like a good Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan film. So what would possess me to leave my comfort zone for something different? The answer is…Some Like It Hotter.

At a writer's conference, I was sitting at a table surrounded by erotica writers. We had an eye-opening conversation about the number of books they'd written, their loyal following and their sales numbers, which blew mine out of the water.

When I got home, I went online and purchased one of their books. I was pleasantly surprised to find their story wasn't that much different from mine, just with more and hotter sex scenes. The writing was superior, the plot was captivating, the characters were believable and engaging. That's when it occurred to me; maybe I could write erotica.

The thought was sticky and clung to my waking moments like a piece of tape I couldn't get off my finger. Next thing I knew, my overactive imagination had come up with not one book, but a four book series: Hot PurSuits. Each book would have one of the playing card suits in the title.

My first attempt would be, Stealing Hearts, to be followed by Queen of the Clubs, Pay Back in Spades, and Not for Diamonds. Then, with the help of my brothers, of all people, we created a pen name to keep the genres separate. I decided to write under a pen name so that fans of Christie Walker Bos couldn't accidentally read one of my erotica books. But I decided to link the two names for cross promotion purposes. I don't care if people know that Susan Ashworthy is really Christie Walker Bos. I just wanted to make sure that readers knew there was a difference between the two lines. With titles ready, a pen name in hand, all that was left to do was write the first book. Easy, right?

Not as easy as I thought. Needless to say, the edits were extreme. I had a lot to learn about erotica. Which words you can and can't use to describe certain body parts, what to leave in, what to leave out, (what to put in, when to put out?) I had this great idea to incorporate dripping hot wax on my hero in one of the sex scenes. My editor asked, "Have you ever tried that?" Well, no, actually I hadn't. So I tried it and guess what…it really hurts…I mean hurts A LOT. So I changed it to painting him with warm liquid chocolate. The things you do for your craft.

One thing I did notice was my voice was the same. There is still a touch of humor in my erotica, and my characters are still "real" living people who just happen to have more frequent and hotter sex. Lucky them!

So Stealing Hearts finally was published and I held my breath until the first review came out. Holding breath, holding breath, holding breath…and, YES, my first review was a good one. Yeah. Now the real test…reader feedback. I sent copies to some of my Christie Walker Bos fans to see if they would like this new subgenre. Holding breath, holding breath, holding breath…and, YES, two thumbs up. But what I really wanted to see, the point of my whole experiment into the "dark side" was if royalties would be different. And guess what, they were. That first royalty check for Stealing Hearts was about 6 times larger than first royalty checks for my romantic comedies. So it's true, more people really do like it hotter!

If you were to write erotica, would you use a pen name? Would you link your erotic line with your current genre?

All Pretty 'n' New — Repurposing

Writers who pen articles for magazines understand this concept very well. They research a topic, write an article targeting a particular publisher, submit it, then turn around and repurpose that same article, just retargeting/repurposing that piece for a new audience and another publication.

Fiction writers don't get that opportunity as often because, if we have an audience, how irritated would they be to read the same piece over and over, just repurposed for another release? Here are two examples of works I've recently "repurposed."

Two Hot was previously "Hot Out Here" in The Mammoth Book of Hot Romance, however, I revised it, and added a better ending. Something I couldn't do the first time around because of word count restraints.

All the short stories in Strokes, except for "Lily's Last Stand" and "All About Me," were previously published in Cleis Press collections.

Why would I want to republish them?

1) I like to make my work accessible to my fans and not everyone is willing to buy every anthology I appear in.

2) I like making a little money for my labor. The stories I sold to Cleis, for example, only earned me $50 apiece.

In this day and age when a writer can publish her own work, she has greater control over her own destiny. In the scary old days, there was only one way for a writer to go—straight to New York and a handful of big publishers. If you didn't manage to catch the eye of an editor, then if your story wasn't something the marketing department knew how to sell, you were toast. With more epublishers and self-publishing opportunities, writers can cut out the middle men entirely if they wish.

I wouldn't ever want to cut out all of my publishers. You never know what the future holds, and it's best not keep all your eggs in one basket, but there's so much freedom now. I'm enjoying it. I hope you readers enjoy the result too—more books, more quickly, for a great price from writers you love.

Oh, and sometime late today or tonight, Two Hot will be offered for free on Amazon.com. Just my way of saying thanks for being along for the ride. I'll tweet, FB and message you all when that offer goes live! *blows kisses* ~DD

Guest Blogger: Melanie Atkins

Hot Cops and Strong Women

Thanks so much for letting me guest blog, Delilah! I really appreciate the opportunity. Hey, out there! Let me to introduce myself. My name is Melanie Atkins, and I'm obsessed with hot cops. I write romantic suspense with intense storylines, and I've tried writing erotic stories, but they're just not for me. So I stick with the cops. Flawed, dark, sexy heroes who carry big guns.

Most of my favorite shows are crime dramas: Castle, In Plain Sight, Southland, Law & Order SVU, Unforgettable, The Killing, Blue Bloods, Memphis Beat, and the Glades, to name a few. All of them have strong heroes. Castle's not a cop, but he is hot, he writes crime stories, and he helps the police. So that counts. I blog about that show after every new episode, too, by the way, on Lee Lofland's The Graveyard Shift blog. Lee is an ex-cop who critiques the police procedure, while I give my take on the romance. We often give off a good cop-bad cop vibe, and that's a lot of fun… but I digress.

Back to my flawed heroes. I like 'em troubled, with a plight only the heroine can solve. She, of course, is a strong, determined, independent woman who doesn't need a man to lookout for her, but she just can't walk away from the hero's blatant masculinity. You get my drift. My stories might not be erotic, but they contain plenty of sexual tension, angst, and eventual satisfaction.

My latest release, BLOOD RITE, a single title romantic thriller from Whiskey Creek Press, gets this point across in spades. The hero in that one is Nick Marconi, a man in desperate need of the heroine's help, but he doesn't want it… because Gracie Simpson is a psychiatrist.

Here's the blurb from the back of the book:

Women in New Orleans are dying. Women New Orleans Police Detective Nick Marconi has dated. To make matters worse, they have all been found with vials of his murdered sister's blood in their throats. Nick is walking a tightrope between depression and rage. His superiors are worried about his mental health, so they send him to see psychiatrist Gracie Simmons.

Gracie is walking a tightrope of her own. She became a psychiatrist because she wants to help people, and in addition to private practice, she also treats police and parolees. The extra work gives her flashbacks about her father, however, a bad cop arrested when she was just fifteen. Then a former flame harasses her, and her best friend turns up dead. Desperate for a distraction, she makes Nick her special project. Only… he doesn't want to be saved.

Somehow, I channeled that story and wrote it in six weeks — all 95,000 words. Nick talked to me, Gracie got angry with me, and I just kept writing. It's my favorite of all the books I've written.

In addition to this book, I have another one up at Whiskey Creek: FLASH BANG is an Epic Award finalist. And I have two series out at Desert Breeze Publishing. Check out my New Orleans Detectives and Keller County Cops, plus a stand-alone novella. All have strong, damaged heroes in need of some sweet, hot lovin'. And boy, do they get it. In spades.

Website: http://www.melanieatkins.com

Blog: http://melanieatkins.wordpress.com

Who is your favorite Avenger?

Quick brag! In addition to being the Long and Short Reviews Book of the Month, Lone Heart is also a TOP PICK at Night Owl Reviews! I'm completely thrilled! Yesterday was a very, very good day!

Okay, on to today's topic. I told you it would be quick. ~DD

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I live in the boonies. The nearest town is small and has NO movie theater! I have to drive at least an hour to get to one. So it takes a special movie to motivate me to see it on the big screen. Here's one I cannot wait to see.

First, my idol, JOSS WHEDON, is directing the movie. Remember Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly, and Dollhouse? Second, I need another dose of Chris Hemsworth wearing armor or nothing at all…

I already know I'll be buying every action figure to plop into my story toy box! Watch the trailer, then vote for your favorite Avenger!

Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.
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P.S. Thanks to everyone who voted for me this weekend over at Long and Short Reviews. My dd is sorry she ever suggested the mailings, but I'm enjoying watching her hand cramp into a withered ball!

Guest Blogger: Myla Jackson (aka Little Sis)

The Crazy Writer's Life for Me!

With the fun of the new Snow White movie coming out, I can barely stand the wait. In the meantime I'm stuck…er…happily penning wildly erotic stories for the enjoyment of those waiting for the next great movie to come out. Oh, hell, you know you love the wildly erotic stories, f*** the movies. Our imaginations can be oh, so much more entertaining. With a storyline to follow, interesting characters come alive on the page to our wonder, delight and desire.

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm in a crazily happy mood. Why, you might ask? Who knows? Perhaps it's the fact that I recently contracted for 6 works under my other pen name (Elle James) for Harlequin. Or maybe it's the unprecedented success (for me) of my latest Samhain cowboy book, BOOTS AND CHAPS or perhaps it's the first draft of the incredibly hot cover for my next Samhain release BOOTS AND LEATHER coming out in August.

Truthfully, I think it's an hysterical reaction to over commitment, with a vacation (to St. Thomas!!) coming up and too much to do in too short a time. *she laughs maniacally—bwahahaha*

Whatever the reason, I'll ride this happy rollercoaster until it spins out of control and plummets to the earth for the few split-seconds this crazy writer slumps into the pits of hell—that dreaded place called self-doubt—only to rise again on the wave of a glorifying review from a loving fan.

Ah, the life of a writer…Who needs drugs?

Prize. Did someone say prize? I'm sure I heard someone say prize, therefore for anyone equally crazy enough to leave a comment in the spirit of insanity, I offer a chance to win a download of one of my fabulously erotic works. So please leave a comment of a purely ridiculous nature and maybe you too will catch the next round of lunacy. Come! Come! Comment!

 

BOOTS AND CHAPS

Welcome to the Ugly Stick Saloon

She gave up stripping to go legit…until three Kiowa cowboys bring on the down-and-dirty.

Jackson Gray Wolf is turning thirty, and what does he have to show for it? A ranch. No wife, no kids, no dates. He's had his eye on the pretty owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, but their one accidental encounter was interrupted before he could get her out of her take-me-now red cowboy boots.

Audrey Anderson isn't in the market for a man. Been there, done that, has the scars to prove it. She retired her pole-dancing boots after purchasing the Ugly Stick Saloon, and now manages a stable of strippers. When she winds up one stripper short for a private party, she's forced to slip on a mask and into the role of the mysterious Kiki.

Jackson didn't want the birthday bash his twin brothers are throwing him, but his vow to ignore the rented stripper goes awry when she shows him exactly how far she's willing to go—for all three of them.

Audrey can't forget the sizzling heat between her and one sexy Kiowa in particular. Jackson. Trouble is, she's not sure if he wants the bold, brassy Kiki, or if he's ready for the wounded woman underneath.

Latest Release and Sunday Report Card

Vote for Book of the Month!

Do me a favor if you have a minute…

Lone Heart is nominated for Book of the Month for February at Long and Short Reviews. Go vote! Here's the link: Vote at LASR

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Check out my new release!

This one's short and cheap (just $.99)—but oh so hot! And if you wouldn't mind… Please click on the cover and head over to Amazon to "tag" and "like" the book! Every click helps! Thanks!

Afraid to spoil their friendship, Emily had been reluctant to act on her attraction to the two sexy men next door. However, when she's caught spying on them, the men decide a little punishment is in order…

From National Bestselling Author, Delilah Devlin, comes a sexy little story sure to become one of your favorite one-handed reads!

Warning: This 6800-word short story contains elements of voyeurism, m/f/m ménage sex, oral sex, and light BDSM.

Buy at Amazon

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Two contests!

The 4x2x4 contest and Promo Ho contests continue! Check out my contest page for details!

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Sunday Report Card

Last week was crazy. So much happening between rennovations of the new house and trying to get my office organized, plus a photography class yesterday!

I did manage to do the following:

1) I added another chapter to Charmed in the Big Easy

2) I edited and uploaded Two Hot

3) I submitted two entries for a new Cleis Press call for submissions

4) I completed Soldier Girls and submitted for another Cleis Press call

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This Week's Guests

This week, I'll have the following ladies blogging here:

Mar 5 — Myla Jackson

Mar 7 — Melanie Atkins

Mar 9 — Christie Walker

Be sure to drop by to say hello to them. You might just find another author you have to read!

Snippet Saturday: First Look

Remember! The 4x2x4 Contest continues!

Post a comment today for another chance to win!

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We all want to feel to feel that spark of attraction from the very first time a man and woman meet. Sometimes, we have just the right hero and heroine, just the right entrance to frame a memorable first meeting…

"…In Delilah Devlin's WARLORD'S DESTINY, a strong man is brought to his knees by an equally strong woman. Interesting, attractive personalities make this read especially powerful."

Nominee for Best Paranormal Erotic Novel of 2005 by Romantic Times BookClub Magazine! TOP PICK! 4 1/2 Stars, RT BOOKreviews

"Watching these two grow is both amusing and touching… I found Warlord's Destiny to be a very well-written novel, and ultimately a very entertaining story to read."

Book Review Network

Promised in marriage for a decade, Mora has no illusions she is anything other than the sacrificial lamb to ensure peace between her peace-loving planet and the warlike world that demands her union with one of their own. No great beauty, she resigns herself to a loveless marriage with a man who will only do his duty by her. However, when she meets the rugged warlord who will be her husband, Mora feels an immediate stirring of lust. She decides in that moment to win his heart—she'll settle for nothing less!

Lord Tetrik finds his bride more than the scrawny handful he had expected. She has hips to breed him strong, sturdy sons, and intelligence that is a gift worth more than a pretty face. When he suspects his wife harbors tender feelings for him, he wonders if he can be the husband she desires. After all, love for a woman is a frivolous thing—and not a Warlord's Destiny.

So, that's what Kronaki warriors look like!

Every story ever whispered about the fearsome warriors came rushing back to set Mora's body trembling. How they fought like ravaging beasts, cutting bloody swaths through Graktilian mercenaries during the war. How they lived in rough stone fortresses made of blocks carved from their frozen mountains. How they fostered their children to rival clans so they would be raised without gentleness.

How they fucked with such fury their women's screams echoed throughout their valleys.

Mora felt a tremor rumble beneath the polished, marble floor of the great hall, so explosive was the swell of conversation that arose at the warriors' arrival.



They were seven, dressed in furs and leather, armed with bows slung across their shoulders and scabbards at their sides.

She couldn't drag her gaze from the man at the head of their formation, striding toward her—her husband in name, if not yet by deed. Although she had never seen him before this day, she knew it must be him, for he looked the fiercest, the strongest—only one such as he would be chosen to rule from amongst their ranks.

He was from a race of barbarians, seemingly as proud of their reputation for brutal warfare as their orgiastic sexuality. The latter Mora could well believe for the man stalking her now looked every inch a sensual marauder.

A shiver of awe bit the base of her spine and trembled upward until the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood erect.

Taller by a head than any Mellusian, his broad shoulders nearly blocked out the sight of the two heralds dogging his steps as they attempted to halt him. He seemed not the slightest bit interested in following protocol by waiting for his name to be addressed to the assemblage. As if anyone attending the ceremony hadn't already guessed who he was!

He'd also eschewed the fine wedding tunic Mora's mother had personally designed—an embroidered silk affair that would have stretched absurdly across his bulging chest and arms.

No, he wore a vest of gray animal pelts that parted at the front, no doubt to tempt a woman's gaze to ogle his obscenely muscled chest and follow the dark arrow of hair down his hewn abdomen. The black sueded leather that encased his legs strained over thickly corded thighs and the alarming swell of his manhood.

Mora's heart tripped and then fluttered like the wings of an aradil.

Her mouth dry, she forced her gaze upward to look at his face but found no comfort there.

Lord Tetrik of Kronak—his name was as harsh as the angles of his square jaw and the sharp blade of his nose. His hair was dark like a moonless sky and worn like the old warriors in the paintings in History Hall—hanging past his shoulders with small braids on either side of his inflexible face. But his eyes frightened her most of all—chips of blue ice froze her in place as his gaze found hers across the noisy hall.

He would have to know she was his bride. She wore her wealth and importance in the weighty jewels studding her hair and gown and encircling her neck. She saw fury in that first glance. Had he already guessed he'd been cheated of the true prize? That her rich adornment was a ruse?

Her mother moaned behind her. "His ambassador said he was too busy to attend such an insignificant event. You should have worn the pink gown!" her mother hissed.

"It was covered in dirt, mother," Mora whispered, keeping her gaze pinned on the man walking straight toward her. "It's too late now, anyway. The ceremony is over."

"He may still repudiate you. Oh, what were you thinking, digging in the garden on your wedding day?"

"I wanted a tuber rose to take with me to my new home."

"As if a rose will grow in their rocky soil," her mother said, her voice becoming thin and breathy the closer the warrior drew.

Mora hoped her mother didn't choose this moment to faint. She suspected the Kronaki leader would scorn a woman frightened by the mere sight of him.

"That green makes your cheeks sallow," her mother lamented, working herself into a high state of agitation. "You look as though you're attending your own funeral."

Mora couldn't resist delivering a little dig. "Am I not? What do you think he'll do once he finds himself wed to the wrong sister?"

"You should have worn the pink! It would have shown you to advantage." She sounded on the verge of tears.

Her mother's diatribe wore on Mora's nerves. "Mother, it doesn't matter if I wear the pink or the green, I'm no beauty. He will know. And by the look of that scowl he wears, he already does."

"May the Goddess save us!"

"Hush, Hespha!" Her father finally intervened. "You frighten our daughter."

Only that wasn't quite true. Her mother's words had the opposite effect, reminding Mora that by rights, her older sister should have been the one sacrificed to honor The Promise. But her sister had been deemed too delicate and hidden away when the day came to repay the decade-old debt owed the Kronaki. "She'd never survive the rigors of life on that harsh planet," her father had said.

Her mother had been only too eager to agree to the substitution. Her delicate, slender little flower wouldn't be surrendered to the barbarian. Instead, Mora stood in her place. She was anything but delicate—a fact that had pained and embarrassed her parents to no end all her life.

A flush of anger heated Mora's cheeks. Try as she might, she couldn't suppress the primitive emotion. Her parents thought so little of her they were willing to marry her to a beast. A black-haired beast that grew more enormous and intimidating as he approached the dais upon which most of the members of the Mellusian royal family stood.

Mora straightened her shoulders. Jewels and a fine gown would not deceive the man. She was dull quartz against the bright, blonde diamonds glittering inside the hall.

He stopped in front of the dais. The room fell silent while all in the assemblage strained to hear what he might say. His cold gaze raked her from head to toe. Even standing on the raised platform, she had to tilt her head to meet his glance.

Panic had her body tightening. Mora raised her chin another notch, unwilling to let him see her fear.

He lifted one dark brow, and his gaze swept her face, lingering over her lips. "What is your name?"

He knew! "Mora. I am Mora," she said, surprised the words escaped her tight throat. Would he reject her? Strangely, she wasn't certain she'd feel relief if he deemed her unfit. Humiliation at his hands would be the harder emotion to swallow.

His gaze cut to her father, and he nodded once. "It is done," he said, his deep voice terse. Then he turned and offered her his hand.

As Mora realized his curt statement meant he would accept her as his bride, emotion pricked her eyes. He would have her. Although she wasn't the beauty he'd been promised, he accepted her as wife. She blinked and drew in a deep breath. She'd not shame herself by giving way to tears. Although she might be the least favored daughter, she was wed now—and to the fiercest warrior of the covenant worlds. She placed her hand inside his and stepped down beside him.

Immediately, she felt swamped by his tall, broad body, a sensation foreign to her, living all her life among the slender elegance of her people. She lifted her startled gaze.

"You're short." A frown drew his dark brows together in a daunting scowl.

Mora drew back. "I am tall for a Mellusian woman."

He snorted and glanced down her body again. "We leave now," he said, letting go of her hand.

"But we've prepared a banquet," her mother's voice quavered behind her.

"We're leaving now," he said again as though grinding his teeth, his ice-cold gaze never leaving Mora.

She sensed a question in his statement and nodded her assent. Best not to annoy him so soon in their marriage. That would doubtless come later.

He raised his arm, and she placed her hand atop his forearm. His skin was warm, the hairs dusting his arm crisp—the muscle beneath felt hard as stone.

"But her trousseau!" her mother cried. "Her things must be packed."

"I will see to her clothing." To Mora, he asked, "Is there anything else you would bring with you?"

She thought of the small bundle containing her personal treasures and the bundled roots of her tuber rose. "There's a package on my bed."

He turned then to her mother. "Fetch it. Bring it to the mage's chamber."

Her mother was so startled, she didn't question his authority to command her. She swept up the train of her gown and rushed from the hall.

Lord Tetrik strode out of the room, past the glittering assemblage without so much as a sideways glance.

Mora found herself enclosed at the center of the formation of tall warriors and lengthened her stride to keep apace. So tall were they, she was denied her last glimpse of her home, only catching a glimmer of gold leaf from the panels in the ceiling. Too soon, she was descending the steps to the mage's chamber in the dark, ancient dungeon beneath the golden keep.

As they stepped inside, the shadowy cavern seemed, for once, cramped. Her escorts fanned out around the perimeter of the room, their legs braced as if for battle.

Gwimmel, the castle's mage, turned from the cooking pot suspended above a crude wood hearth. His gaze darted to Mora's, and he raised his bushy, white brows. "That was rather quick. I had thought there would be celebrations above."

"Lord Tetrik desired to depart immediately," she murmured to her one true friend, aware of her husband's scrutiny. "And since the ceremony took place before his arrival…"

"Ahhh…" Gwimmel nodded. He straightened as far as his hunched back would permit. "Lord Tetrik, it will only take a moment to reopen the passage."

Mora glanced to her husband, whose scowl grew darker by the moment. If Gwimmel doesn't hurry, he'll change his mind! Disaster has not yet been averted.

Suddenly, her mother rushed into the room, halting to catch her breath as she spied the warriors. She stepped timidly into their midst and thrust the bundle into Mora's arms and hugged her. "Despite how it may seem," she whispered into her ear, "I wish you well, daughter." She squeezed her and stood back. Then she smoothed a hand over her perfectly coiffed hair before turning to her new son-in-law. "We have your promise you will return her if she so desires?"

"I keep my bargains," he said, the words spoken so slowly his true meaning could not be misinterpreted. He had kept his bargain—the Mellusians had not! "She may return after spring comes to the mountains if she so desires—and if she does not carry my child."

Although her mother strove for a regal nod, her hands pressed her stomach, betraying her unease. "Well, I wish you good journey." Her liquid gaze met Mora's one last time before she turned and departed the chamber.

Mora let out the breath she'd been holding and tried not to shiver at the chill encasing her heart at her husband's words. If she does not carry my child… With a husband so virile, how would she not?

"Mage!" Lord Tetrik spat the word, impatience apparent in his tone.

"Oh, yes, yes. Just a moment." Gwimmel bent and lifted a stone from a basket of magical stones beside the hearth.

He opened his palm and a rough-cut yellow diamond caught the flickering light from the hearth, bending and fracturing it until rays spread in a fiery prism—yellows, reds and oranges bursting like a tiny sun. Then he closed his eyes and murmured an incantation that sounded more like the gurgling of a river than any spoken tongue. The slivers of fiery light curved into a shimmering circle, becoming liquid, the radiance dimming at the center.

"Come, it is time," her husband said, gripping her elbow. He led her to the circle and ducked inside, pulling her along.

* * * * *

Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors' blogs:

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Rhian Cahill

Jody Wallace

Eliza Gayle

Lissa Matthews

Mandy M Roth

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

HelenKay Dimon

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

Shelli Stevens

Shiloh Walker

TJ Michaels

Zoë Archer

Guest Blogger: Eliza Gayle

Remember! The 4x2x4 Contest continues! Check yesterday's post for details!

* * * * *

Thank you so much to Delilah for having me on the blog today!

Hi, my name is Eliza, I write erotic romance and I'm obsessed with the Undead. Okay, maybe obsessed might be a tad strong but I'll let you be the judge of that.

I think this may have all started with the midnight premiere some time ago of the movie Zombieland. Instant love. I'm not sure I've been the same since. While I was busy quoting the zombie rules every chance I got, along came the television show The Walking Dead. Ooh so much zombie killing and craziness. I was hooked. Next came the apocalypse books so I could read up on how to be ready for the zombies. Somehow Zombies have become a regular source of entertainment for me and most of my family. I say most because every time we get to talking about these undead creatures, my youngest teenager gives me that look. You know that look. The one where clearly she thinks I have lost my mind.

Uhm maybe I have. Nah. It's all fun.

Until now… What could I possibly do to take this zombie love to the next level you ask? How about a zombie apocalypse 5k obstacle race. Yep, this weekend Run For Your Lives will host such an event in Atlanta, and yours truly will be there and ready to rumble. Not only will I be running this obstacle course while chased by zombies with 8,000 other runners, I'm also signed up for a shift as a zombie. Professional makeup artists will transform my family and I into the undead, and we will stumble, shuffle, and moan our way around the course hopefully scaring the beejesus out of people. *insert evil laugh here* 

If you'd like to follow this insane journey, look for my live tweets from the event (with pictures) @elizagaylebooks this Saturday, March 3rd. As long as I have cell service and no one takes my phone away, there WILL be pictures.

(Oh and if you were wondering, none of this crazy weird zombie love has a thing to do with any of my books…yet)

Happy Friday Y'all!

Eliza

To learn more about my books and what I am writing, please stop by my website at: http://elizagayle.net or like my facebook fan page for the latest updates and exclusive content at: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorElizaGayle

My latest release is a sexy shifter menage available exclusively at All Romance eBooks as part of their Perfect Stranger series.The eBook is available in all formats including Kindle (mobi) and Nook (epub)!

Resistance may be possible, but who are they kidding?

While on a search and rescue mission in the middle of a snowstorm, Seth and his twin Trent catch the scent of an unfamiliar shifter. Drawn to locate the source they hike deep into the woods to an abandoned cabin where they find an enticing little jaguar in the throes of heat.

Tired of being smothered by her five brothers and the pressure to mate, Daisy wanted nothing more than a week alone in the middle of freaking no where. The last thing she needed was a run in with two sexy as sin—and totally off limits—cougar shifters. Unfortunately, she's not the kind of woman to leave them out in the cold.

Faced with the misery of unmet sexual desire or hot, no strings attached sex with two men… What's a girl to do?

New contest and a question!

My daughter inventoried my stash of books yesterday, and I realize I have far too many copies of certain books to keep. Soooooo, I'm going to give away sets of two to four lucky winners!

The 4x2x4 Contest!

What can you win?

I will give away four sets of two signed books to four lucky winners—winners' choices from among these titles:

Down in Texas

Enslaved by a Viking

Into the Darkness

Tempted by a Cowboy

Texas Men

Wild, Wild Women of the West

Wild, Wild Women of the West II

What do you have to do to win?

Post a comment on any blog posting from today until the contest ends. Each entry counts as another chance to win!

This contest ends in two weeks, March 16th!

And if I currently owe any contest mailings, bookmark mailings, etc., I will get to them this week! I tend to let them stack up before I spend an afternoon working on packaging/addressing/stamping! I know, bad author me!

Don't forget The Promo Ho Contest

If you're a fan, and you've already read some of the My Immortal Knight books, this contest is a quick win! Up for grabs? TWO $25.00 Amazon.com Gift Certificates! Click on this link for details: Promo Ho Contest

Today's Question

Say someone got you drunk enough to strip in front of a crowd… 

Yeah, most of us wouldn't, but just say…

What song would you request for your sexy striptease?