Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 500

New Call for Submissions — SMOKIN' HOT FIREMEN

Please pass this along to all your writer friends out there! ~DD

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Smokin' Hot Firemen: Firefighter Romance Stories

Editor: Delilah Devlin

Publisher: Cleis Press in Summer 2013

Deadline: June 15, 2012 (although sooner is better!)

Smokin' Hot Firemen is open to all authors.

Editor Delilah Devlin is looking for hetero firefighter stories for a romantic erotica anthology tentatively entitled Smokin' Hot Firemen: Firefighter Romance Stories.

A firefighter is one of those iconic heroes who inspire a jumble of sexy images at just the mention of the word—a soot-covered face, sweat dripping from hard, chiselled muscles, the sexy snap of suspenders—yes, only a fireman can make suspenders sexy!

Smokin' Hot Firemen will seek stories that satisfy the reader who craves the romantic idea of that soot-covered, smokin'-hot man while exploring stories set in American cities and small towns, as well as international settings. The stories will be contemporary. While traditional themes are likely to be featured, writers are encouraged to imagine greater in order to create tales that, while featuring this iconic hero, may also surprise.

Think about the big-city firehouse, teaming with sexy firemen, responding to a high-rise fire; firefighters arriving at the scene of an accident to pry a victim from a burning car; a strong, sexy man carrying a child from a burning house… All heroic acts we expect from our local heroes. Then think about the smoke-jumper parachuting into the hot zone of a forest fire; the sexy rancher next door, who's also a volunteer firefighter, responding to an out-of-control brush fire; or even an oil-rig worker whose extra duty is to respond to a catastrophe on a rig in the middle of the ocean…

Then imagine the romantic possibilities of being held against that massively muscled chest by a man whose mission is to protect and serve…

Published authors with an established firehouse world may use that setting for their original short story.

The stories may be as kinky or vanilla as the writer wants—but a deep sensuality should linger in every word. Exotic locations and scenarios are welcome. Keep in mind there must be a romantic element with a happy-for-now or happy-ever-after ending. Strong plots, engaging characters and unique twists are the ultimate goal. Please no reprints. We are seeking original stories.

How to submit: Prepare your 1,500 to 4,500 words story in a double-spaced, Arial, 12 point, black font document with pages numbered (.doc, NOT.docx) OR rich text format. Indent the first line of each paragraph half an inch and double space (regular double spacing, do not add extra lines between paragraphs or do any other irregular spacing). US grammar (double quotation marks around dialogue, etc.) is required.

In your document at the top left of the page, include your legal name (and pseudonym if applicable), mailing address, and 50 words or less bio in the third person to smokinhotfiremen@gmail.com. If you are using a pseudonym, please provide your real name and pseudonym and make it clear which one you'd like to be credited as. Authors may submit up to 2 stories. Delilah will respond in September 2011. The publisher has final approval over the stories included in the manuscript.

Payment will be $50.00 USD and two copies of the published book upon publication.

About the editor: Ms. Devlin has published over a hundred erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths. Her published print titles include Into the Darkness, Seduced by Darkness, Darkness Burning, Darkness Captured, Down in Texas, Texas Men, Ravished by a Viking, and Enslaved by a Viking. Her short stories are featured in Zane's Purple Panties, and Cleis Press's Lesbian Cowboys, Girl Crush, Fairy Tale Lust, Lesbian Lust, Passion, Carnal Machines, Dream Lovers, and Best Erotic Romance. She is published by Avon, Kensington, Harlequin, Atria/Strebor, Ellora's Cave, Samhain Publishing, and Berkley. In Fall 2011, she debuted her first anthology with Cleis Press, Girls Who Bite. In 2012, Cleis Press will release She Shifters and Cowboy Lust.

Direct any questions you have regarding your story or the submission process to Delilah at smokinhotfiremen@gmail.com.

MY SWEET SUCCUBUS is here!

I have news for readers and writers today. It's a very busy time for me. For you writers, I'll be back later today with a brand new call for submissions. I have to write it first and run it by my editor, but check back because I have something very HOT and tempting…

For you readers, I have a new release! Well, unless you bought the self-pubbed anthology Moonstruck, which is no longer available in the e-world. I decided to give the story to Ellora's Cave to keep all my MIKs in one place. So pretty new cover, newly edited, and here you go. Oh, be warned: I've been told this one's a little freaky.

My Immortal Knight, Book Eight

Melanie Bradshaw is driven to horny desperation by her torrid dreams. When she finally acts on her desires, things go horribly wrong and she witnesses the murder of an overly amorous lounge lizard—whose body disintegrates before her eyes.

Detective Moses Brown isn't thrilled to get another "full-moon case"…until he meets the delectable Melanie, who took a walk on the wild side straight into vampire territory. Moses doesn't know why vamps are interested in her, but until he can find out, he's going to stick to her like glue, doing his best to ignore their instant attraction.

But pretty little Melanie has designs on his body. Her hunger for sex is voracious, even downright insatiable. How's a brother to resist?

Publisher's Note: This story was previously self-published under the title She's All That.

Buy at Ellora's Cave

Guest Blogger: Mari Carr

You know what I love? Series. Seriously. I'm one of those readers who never wants a book to end with The End. If the story has characters who speak to me, I always hope for another book and then another and another. I was really sad when I realized Meg Cabot's Mediator series was over at book six. When I finished The Amber Spyglass, the last book in Philip Pullman's Dark Materials trilogy, I went to his website, hoping I was wrong and that there were more. I went into a depression when the Harry Potter series ended for nearly a week. No lie. A real depression because I knew those characters, who had become like family to me, weren't going to be in my life anymore. The movie releases sort of alleviated that for an extra year or two, but now they're done too. Sob!

As a result of my love affair for series as a reader, I find myself drifting toward writing series as well. It took me months to write the final book in the Wild Irish series, Any Given Sunday, because I just couldn't say goodbye to my Collins family. My editor finally put her foot down (God love that woman) and said "Just write the damn book!"

A couple of weeks ago, the last book in the Compass Brothers series, Western Ties came out. I cried for days as I wrote that story. Finally, my hubby looked at me and said, "You know this is fiction, right?" I told him it was still hard because those characters felt SO real to me. Those were some of the toughest scenes I've ever written. Plus, on top of leaving the Compton brothers, my collaboration with Jayne Rylon (who is like a sister to me) ended as well. It was a double whammy!

But…my love of series still perseveres! I'm in the midst of some new ones. I'm excited about them so I thought I'd do a bit of shouting here.

I recently finished Misplaced Princess, book one in the Crossed Wires duo, I'm co-writing with Lexxie Couper. They are fun books that take place in New York City and Australia. I'm about to start writing Fix You, the first book in a new series for Samhain called the Second Chances books.

And…last, but not least, the second book in my Cocktales series at Ellora's Cave, Screwdriver, released yesterday! Woot! It's a fun series about four friends who own a combination bar/bookstore in Portland called Books and Brew (this is my DREAM business). Each woman runs a different aspect of the business—bartender, bookkeeper/office manager, the marketing/events coordinator, and the bookstore gal.

In the Party Naked, Stephanie Harper receives a parking ticket from hot cop Jarod Nolan and ends up getting way more than a fine. Handcuffs, anyone?

In Screwdriver, Jordan Lance, Books and Brew's bookkeeper harbors a secret crush on the uber-wealthy and handsome landlord of their building, Gabriel. However when construction worker, Casey comes in to do some work on the store, her attention turns to him…much to Gabriel's chagrin. How's a girl to decide? Um…does she really have to?

In Bachelor's Bait, Sophie Kennedy, marketing/event coordinator for Books and Brew can't stand Marc Garrett, a free-aid lawyer and do-gooder who rubs her the wrong way. When fate steps in, tossing them together, Sophie's passionate anger turns to another kind of passion…

In the final book, Screaming Orgasm, Jayne is depressed. She's watched all her friends meet their Mr. Rights and fall in love. Little does she know, Elias Clark, the unassuming professor who is a regular at the store has had his eye on her for quite a while, but Jayne will find out he's not at all what he appears to be. Underneath his quiet exterior lurks the Dom who speaks to her submissive heart.

To read more about this series and the others I've mentioned, please stop by my website, www.maricarr.com.

Screwdriver, Cocktales, Book Two

When Jordan Lance isn't pouring over spreadsheets for Books and Brew, she's fantasizing about the store's landlord. Too bad she's squarely in Gabriel's "just friends" column.Jordan's prepared to pine forever—until she meets Casey. The handyman is hot, handsome, charming…and Gabriel's best friend. Suddenly her wicked fantasies are porntastic times two.

Casey has suspected his friend's interest in Jordan. If he can push them together, he might get Gabriel off the bimbo train he's been riding. The plan? Jealousy. And it's working. It's not long before Gabriel's deeper feelings for Jordan emerge. Problem is…so do Casey's. What happens when two friends want the same woman? Red-hot ménage, baby.

Two gorgeous men playing every inch of her body? Um, yes please!Jordandoesn't know if threesomes are considered acceptable, but she's sure of one thing—being this bad feels far too good.

 

Excerpt:

Casey looked closer at the AC unit. "Damn. I was afraid of that."

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I was hoping it was an issue with the belt, but the motor bearings are shot. I'm going to need to order a part."

"So it's not getting fixed today?"

"I'll see if I can rig a work around for the time being." He stood and stretched. "God bless it, Jordan. I apologize if this offends you, but it's hot as hell in here." Reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, he whipped the thin cotton over his head and fanned himself with it.

Her now-familiar blush returned and Casey felt compelled to prod, to see if his suspicions about Jordan's underlying naughty side were true. "Just so you know, I absolutely will not be upset if you decide to follow suit and work shirtless for the rest of the afternoon."

The twinkle in her eyes let him know she enjoyed his joke. "I'm fine with my shirt on."

"You sure?" he teased, taking a step closer. "I don't mind helping you peel it off." He reached out but she darted away, her smile widening.

"Casey," she said, swatting his hands away. She dodged behind the AC unit and he followed.

The two of them played a quick game of cat and mouse as Casey chased her around the storage closet.

He'd just captured her,Jordansquealing loudly, when the door to the closet opened.

"Jordan? Are you okay?" a deep voice asked from the hallway.

Gabriel peered around the door and Casey wondered what his best friend thought he was seeing. They certainly presented a risqué picture—Casey shirtless, his arms wrapped aroundJordanfrom behind while she laughed.

"Hey, Gabe." Casey releasedJordanand pulled his shirt back on. "What are you doing here?"

Gabriel's response was slow in coming as his gaze traveled from Casey to Jordan. "I was checking on your progress." Gabriel's eyes landed back on Casey's face and they narrowed angrily. "Looks like you're making some."

Shit. Casey's suspicions about Gabe's feelings for Jordan were confirmed in an instant. His friend was hot for the accountant.

Problem was…so was Casey.

"We were taking a break," he explained.

Gabriel looked at Jordan, his expression softening. "You're blood-red, Jordan. You need to get out of this heat."

Casey glanced at her face. Gabriel made the same mistake he had. Jordan wasn't hot. She was blushing. Big time.

"I'm okay, Gabe. No worries," she answered. "I can see why you two are friends. Casey's cure for the heat wave is going topless too."

Gabriel's expression darkened even further as he snapped his gaze to Casey once more. "Topless?"

"Actually, I think we're done for the day," Casey said, anxious to change the subject before Gabriel pulverized him. "I need to order a part before I can fix the unit."

Jordan frowned and he sensed she was surprised by his sudden retreat to safer territory. Gabriel had never referred to Jordan as anything more than a pal, but Casey could read between the lines—even if his oblivious friend couldn't.

"Um, yeah. That's right. We were just wrapping things up. It was nice of you to come by and check on us." Jordan's gaze drifted to Gabriel's face and she smiled.

Crap. The pure longing on Jordan's face told Casey all he needed to know in regards to her feelings for Gabriel. It told him more than he wanted to know.

Jordan's cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. "It's Steph. We made plans to do a late lunch. I should take this."

She walked toward the door as she answered the phone. Gabriel stepped aside and let her escape. Casey suspected he wouldn't be freed as easily.

"What the fuck were you doing?" Gabe's question was murmured, but even in the quiet tone, Casey detected the anger. A small part of him was thrilled to hear any emotion at all from his friend.

"I told you. Taking a break."

"With your clothes off?"

Casey shot him a dirty look. "I took off my shirt to cool down. I've been in this godforsaken sweatbox for nearly two hours. Besides, what the hell are you so pissed off about? I'm here because you asked me to fix the air conditioner."

"Why was Jordan in here?"

And now they were getting to the heart of the matter. "I asked her to help me."

"Since when do you need an assistant?"

Casey was hot and tired and annoyed. Not a good combination. Gabe was poking the bear. "I spotted a gorgeous woman and an empty closet. Come on, Gabe. You're a smart guy with a degree in finance. Put two and two together. I'm not averse to mixing work and play."

Gabriel shook his head. "You're not playing with Jordan."

His friend's vehemence tweaked Casey's temper. "Last time I checked, you weren't my keeper. Or Jordan's."

Gabriel rubbed his neck wearily, and for the first time, Casey noticed the dark circles under his friend's eyes.

When he spoke again, Gabriel's voice was calmer. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I saw you with Jordan and I…shit, I guess I lost it."

"Why? I'm not an asshole to women. You know that."

Gabriel shrugged. "I know. She reminds me of Annie in a lot of ways. Somewhere along the line I've become a bit protective of her."

Annie was Gabriel's only sibling, and no little sister was ever loved more. Casey wasn't sure how to respond. Gabe's initial reaction screamed of jealousy, not brotherly instinct. "I can see why. Jordan's very sweet."

Gabriel didn't seem to appreciate his answer. "So sweet you felt compelled to strip off your shirt and corner her in a storage closet?"

Yep. Definitely jealous.

Screwdriver is available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Guest Blogger: Kate Sherwood

Visiting Old [Fictional] Friends

I love characters. Characters who are funny, characters who are sweet but try to hide it, characters who have strange quirks and don't care who knows about it. Plot's lovely, evocative writing adds a lot to my enjoyment, but if the characters don't grab me, I won't enjoy a book.

I think I create pretty good characters. (At least the male ones – I'm still working through my issues with writing female romantic leads, but I'm pretty pleased with Tara, the MC of Shining Armor, due out April 2 from Liquid Silver Books). I love my boys. But I love other people's boys, too. Do you guys remember S.E. Hinton's books? I fell in love with the characters from The Outsiders with full pre-teen passion.  When that book was over, I would have happily read about the characters cleaning the house, going to school, watching TV… anything, no plot needed, just so I could get my fix. When there was a mention of them in one of Hinton's other books (Rumblefish, maybe? Or That was Then, This is Now?) I was like a cat on really good 'nip. It was perfect – my boys were still okay, and living their fictional lives.

Dark Horse is the first book I ever wrote, the first thing I tried to get published, and I had no idea how long books were supposed to be. So I just wrote. I wrote the main story, the one that's told in Dark Horse and Out of the Darkness, and then I wrote a lot of little extras, because I wanted to see how my boys were doing. I missed them, and I wanted to visit.

I said I wouldn't write any more in the series, because I felt like I'd left the boys in a good place, and because I'd already written so damn much!  But then I started thinking about the guys again, wondering if they were okay… and wondering how well they'd stand up to a crisis. Of Dark and Light (due out March 26 from Dreamspinner Press!) is the book that came from me putting them through that crisis.

Traditional fiction is pretty rigid about what constitutes a story: we all know the plot graph from English class, and writers know what publishers are looking for. But the world is changing. Fan fiction, I think, did a lot of this, with writers playing with characters created by others, giving them new adventures and new worlds. But maybe it's time for original fiction to catch up. With e-publishing, we're no longer so limited by how much it costs to print a short story, or the challenges of distribution. Maybe e-publishing will lead to authors writing their own time stamps and AUs and all the other fun little fandom traditions.

I'd love to see it, as a reader and as a writer. When I really fall in love with a character, and the book ends, I don't want the relationship to be over! I know we can't go steady anymore, but couldn't we at least have a few reunion dates?

Which books have left you guys with that aching sense of sadness at the end, just because you don't get to hang out with the characters anymore? Would you like it if your favorite authors wrote little extras with the characters you love, or is your own imagination enough?

Favorite Fantasy Threesome

Today, I'll be on the road again. Yeah, when am I supposed to write? I'm headed to the big city of Hot Springs, Arkansas to see a lawyer about a will. My will. Not that I plan to kick the bucket any time soon, but I don't want to leave my affairs in a mess. I'll make it simple for my family.

I hope you all are taking advantage of the free book offer (see yesterday's blog for details). If you've downloaded the book and enjoyed it, I'd love for you to "like" and "tag" it, and if you have time, please post a review. Not really that much to ask in return, is it?

So today's question is purely for fun. Take a leap of imagination. If you had the nerve, the perfect bod, all the planets aligned and you had the opportunity to choose two characters or celebrities that you'd like to have a threesome with, who would you choose?

Here are mine. I expect it would be rough and tumble, a lot of jockeying between these two super heroes for who'd be in charge, but in my fantasy, I'd be the winner. Is it any wonder that Thor and Xena are in my writer's toybox?

All Hallows Heartbreaker–FREE!

The winner of yesterday's ONE-DAY-ONLY CONTEST is Lisa Collins!

Lisa, send me an email to let me know which email address you'd like me to send your

free download of All Knight Long to!

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No excerpt today. You can sample the entire book! If you've never read the 2nd book I ever published, and the 1st book in the My Immortal Knight series, then now's the perfect time. The book is free for the next two weeks! And even if you already have this book in your Kindle or Nook, get a fresh copy with this gorgeous new cover!

Find it at Ellora's Cave

Find it at Amazon

Find it at Barnes & Noble

Revisiting ALL KNIGHT LONG

The winner of yesterday's ONE-DAY-ONLY CONTEST is Trish! Trish, send me an email to let me know which email address you'd like me to send your free download of Relentless to!

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I'm driving to Dallas and back, today—a nine hour round trip. I'll be sure to take my Smart Phone along to check the posts! Enjoy the excerpt, and remember that tomorrow, the first book in this series, All Hallows Heartbreaker will be free!

"Author Delilah Devlin's My Immortal Knight series is a wonderful group of books that'll keep the readers anxiously intrigued through out all the series."

In The Library Reviews

"Ms. Devlin knows how to use her words to draw you into her story. She has created characters that are easy to fall in love with. When you combine her excellent characters with the great plot, this story becomes a must read."

5 Angels, Fallen Angel Reviews

"Vampires, werewolves, and babies — oh, my! ALL KNIGHT LONG is a sensual and thrilling ride into the world of the paranormal."

Romance Review Today

A member of an elite police unit sworn to hunt vampires, Joe Garcia's life is turned upside down when he's transformed into one. On a quest for a cure, his search brings him to New Orleans in a last ditch effort to recover his humanity.

Professor Lily Carlson, a renowned expert in vampire lore, has a "condition" of her own. Her sexual libido has been in hyper-drive for months. Her only defense is to hide behind her glasses and tweed suits and stay as far away from men as possible. However, she's thrilled to discover vampires really do exist when Joe shows up on her balcony.

Although Joe deflects her attempts to make him a case study and confirm a few vampire statistics, he is drawn by her powerful allure. When werewolves join the chase and track her through New Orleans, Joe's cop instincts tell him there's a mystery to solve. Intent on protecting her, he must seek help from the last vampire on Earth he wants to ask. While his hopes for deliverance from his fate dwindle, Lily's life is forever altered by an unexpected "inheritance".

It had taken Joe half an hour and a quarter pint of blood to find her apartment in the long, white two-story stucco building in the center of the French Quarter. The super led him straight to the door, then walked off, his eyes glazed under the influence of Joe's suggestion he give his wife a tumble.

It took another half an hour to feed from the man who lived in the apartment next to the professor's until he slept, just so Joe could climb out on his ironwork balcony and make the leap to hers.

Finally, he stood hidden in the shadows while he watched her through lacy curtains, her French doors opened to the sultry night air. With only light from the streetlamp outside to chase away the darkness, Joe could discern every detail of her bedroom. She lay not five feet from him atop pale pink sheets. Naked. Her knees bent, her creamy thighs splayed. So close he could smell her ripening scent.

She was pleasuring herself.



Joe's cock stirred and unfurled, lengthening by the second as he watched her.

A fan pulsed from the ceiling above her, lifting the gold-brown hair curving over her breasts to tangle with the fingers tugging at her nipples. When her hands moved down her rounded belly, his gaze clung hungrily to the turgid points surrounded by their pale rose circles. His mouth watered, imagining the velvet-soft flesh surrendering to his kisses. Succulent morsels yielding the sweetest gift—her blood from the heart of her femininity.

She truly sealed her fate when one hand glided past the fur at her mons to cup her sex. Joe's cock pressed insistently against his jeans, tightening when her fingers stroked between her outer labia to caress the thin folds within. Moisture glistened as she rubbed it over her lips, long sliding strokes that dipped inside and swirled outward.

Then her other hand entered the play, and her fingers parted the swollen labia, pulling them back to expose her engorged clitoris. She touched the shiny nub once and shivered as though the spot were too sensitive, and then her fingers glided away.

She circled the mouth of her vagina, dipping her fingertips into the well and spreading her juice. Liquid seeped to coat her hand, and she brought her fingers to her mouth and licked the tips clean. Soft appreciative groans broke from her throat.

Joe sweated. He'd never seen a woman enjoy her own essence like this one. His body was gripped with the need to shove his cock deep inside her cream-filled channel.

Instead, he braced an arm against the window casing and his other hand went to the hard bulge at the front of his jeans. Desperate to take the edge off his need, he flicked open the button on his waistband and eased the zipper down, shoving his briefs beneath his balls, enjoying the way the elastic constricted. His hot flesh escaped its prison, filling his hand. He encircled his shaft and stroked it, letting urgency fill his loins as he watched her.

Her hand slid beneath her pillow and pulled out a long, flesh-tone object that she caressed like a man's cock. She sucked the head of the dildo, wetting it with her spit, closing her eyes. Did she imagine a man shafting into her mouth?

Joe did. His cock pulsed and a pearl of pre-cum beaded at the tiny opening atop the crown of his sex. He rubbed the moisture around the tip with his thumb.

She fingered the base of her symmetrical shaft and it hummed, just like his body, triggered by her sexy moan at the first touch of her vibrator to the tips of her breasts. Her mouth opened in a gasp.

Joe's breath drew in sharply, imagining her taking his cock into her mouth. He squeezed himself, gliding the skin stretched tight as a rubber band over his cock, back and forth, faster.

She circled the dildo on one tit while her free hand massaged the other, the nipple winking between her fingertips. Then she placed it between her generous breasts and squeezed them around the dildo as her body writhed on the bed, her hips lifting, pulsing in the air.

Joe's hips answered, pushing his cock through his clenched fist, faster now, building heat and friction. He dropped spit onto his shaft and worked it with his fist, gliding easily, imagining the woman's undulating body convulsing along his cock.

Abruptly, the woman rolled onto her stomach and came to her knees, planting them wide apart on the bed, letting her chest fall to the mattress. Reaching between her legs, she spread her lips and coaxed the vibrator into her pussy, working it inside her, inch by inch, twisting it in her cream to lubricate its length and push deeper.

Joe's grip nearly strangled his cock. The sight of her pale cheeks quivering in the air, the dildo clutched in her fist pumping in and out, pushed him over the edge. He felt the pressure build in his balls.

Her chest rubbed on the sheets and her hips circled on her hand-held cock, until she cried out and shoved the dildo deep, cramming it inside as far as it could reach with the flat of her palm. She moaned and bucked, her soft whimpers carried on the air. When the pulsing of her hips stopped, she sobbed and fell to the blanket, turning to her back, her legs askew, her hair a tangled cloud on her pillow.

Looking at her quivering belly and the dildo that peeked from inside her body, Joe groaned and spent his seed in a hot stream on the floor of her balcony.

Too late, he realized he'd cried aloud.

Snippet Saturday: Club Scene (revisiting Relentless)

The winner of yesterday's ONE-DAY-ONLY CONTEST is Amy A! Amy, send me an email to let me know which email address you'd like me to send your free download of Love Bites!

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Continuing my journey down memory lane, this scene is from Book 4 of the My Immortal Knight series. Enjoy meeting Max, and be looking for All Hallows Heartbreaker, which will be offered for free come Monday!

"RELENTLESS has suspense, intrigue, and surprises that grab your attention and never let you go until the last page."

5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

"A wickedly funny and passionate series, fans of paranormal erotic romance will enjoy RELENTLESS tremendously. Ms Devlin has done it again!"

Romance Reviews

"Her realistic writing of well-packaged vampires and werewolves leaves the reader thirsting for the forbidden and a driving need to be possessed within her erotically charged worlds."

5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

To supercop Max Weir, the only good vampire is a dead one. Since his special police unit integrated with vampires, he's had to suppress his natural hatred to work side-by-side with the undead to hunt down and terminate the deadliest killers. Now the unit is hot on the trail of a new menace in town, a pack of werewolves prowling for vampires, who don't care whether humans get in their way.

When a stakeout goes awry, Max enters a bar looking for a fight or a woman to help him blow off a little steam. What he finds is a winsome siren who has sexual appetites to match his own.

Vampire Pia D'Amato is on a secret mission to take out Max — either by seduction or by turning him. He's become a liability to the Masters' Council setting up jurisdiction in southern Florida, and she isn't leaving until she's done the job. But Max is more man than she bargained for and has a deadly secret of his own.

Max pushed through the door of the bar determined that tonight he'd either get shit-faced or fucked. Which, didn't matter. So long as he could blow off the steam that had been gathering a head since the botched mission hours before. The bar was a regular haunt—only a block from his house. If need be, he could crawl home. The smoky air, the loud grinding music, and the smell of stale beer appealed when he had an axe to grind.

The SU had swept the area for signs of the wolves that killed the vampires before turning on the humans in a mutilating frenzy. Their bloody paw prints led beyond the house to a gravel road where they'd disappeared. The pack had made their getaway in cars. This hadn't been a roaming band's target of opportunity, but a takedown.

The grim faces of the vampires telegraphed their worry. He hoped they were shaking in their boots. Not that the thought of a rogue wolf pack wasn't just as unsettling to Max.

But seeing the cocksure Quentin lose his perpetual smirk was gratifying. Dylan had been grim-faced and pale. Perhaps the bastard saw his own fate in the house.

However, Joe's silence had been the most telling. He hadn't looked the least bit surprised.

Max made his way through the tables ringing a small dance floor. The place was nearly empty, save for the men hovering near the bar for the night's last drinks. The tension in his shoulders knotted tighter. All it would take would be one smart-ass comment. He hungered for an excuse to drive his fist through something.

The crowd parted, and a flash of a slim white ankle snagged his attention. Every trace of anger, bitter regret, and frustration coalesced into a single, burning need.



The men blocking his view shifted, and the ankle drew his glance upward to a bare knee. The woman's legs parted, and one slid atop the other. Her foot sawed up and down, and a slender, functionless sandal dangled from the tips of her painted toes. God, he wanted to help her lose the shoes altogether.

He advanced toward the men standing between him and his goal. Their faces registered annoyance for only a moment before they stepped aside. The hard hunger that rode his belly must have turned his face into an implacable mask.

As he drew near, her shape was revealed one tantalizing curve at a time. Sweetly turned hips were clothed in a stretchy black skirt that ended at the top of her thighs—not a hint of underwear marred the smooth fit. Conveniently tied behind her neck, a miniscule top bared the gleaming, supple skin of her back and midriff—again, no sign of a bra. Her nipples puckered invitingly against the black fabric that barely contained the apple-like curves of her small breasts.

Finally, his gaze rose to her face. She could have been a whole lot less than appetizing, and he'd still have wanted her on the merits of that ride-able frame. But her face only made him more determined to have her.

Large, doe-like eyes, framed by thick lashes, blinked as she caught his stare. Her upper lip was a fraction fuller than the lower and inspired delicious, succulent fantasies. Her face was round, her jaw small, and a thumbprint dimple carved her chin into two delicious halves. His tongue itched to slide along that little notch.

As he reached the bar, he drew a deep breath, eager to catch the scent of her perfume. He wasn't disappointed. The woman smelled like sex. Hot, nasty, spicy sex.

His body hardened along with his intentions. With only a fleeting thought for how aggressive he might appear, he loomed over her, his gaze sweeping downward. When he glanced back up to her eyes, he schooled his expression into something shy of predatory. He didn't want to frighten her away before he'd even learned her name.

Instead of looking intimidated or frightened by his intensity, as so many women would have, she raised a single dark eyebrow. She didn't say a word, just returned his stare. Somehow, her bold action felt out of sync with the wariness lurking in her eyes.

Then he noticed the movement of her throat as she swallowed. Did he make her nervous?

Her expression betrayed no such fear. Part amusement and part calculation, it changed as her gaze dropped from his face to sweep down his chest and lower. Interest with only a hint of alarm flared her nostrils and tightened her jaw, causing her to open her mouth to take a deeper breath.

She had good reason to be wary. If she told him to back off, he'd be hard pressed to obey. Every male chromosome in his body screamed at his groin to take her.

His gaze never leaving hers, he took a deep, calming breath and forced himself to follow the ritual. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'm not thirsty." Her voice pleased him. Feminine, but not too dainty, with a hint of aged whiskey.

Undeterred, he nodded to the bartender hovering behind her. "Two draft beers."

Her brown eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.

He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm just thirsty."

"Or impossibly arrogant," she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He bit back a grin. "I haven't seen you here before," he said, and then cursed himself for using such a tired line.

"I'm new to the area," she said, sounding bored. Her foot sawed faster.

Great! They sounded like trained parrots. How could he think of conversation when all he wanted was to slide his hands around her naked back? "What's your name?"

"Pia."

Pia. Cute name, a little sassy like she was. Or rather, like he thought she might be if he could just figure out how to get her talking.

At least she hadn't tried to bolt. He leaned past her to reach for one of the beers the bartender laid behind her on the bar. He held it out.

Her hands remained in her lap, her expression defiant.

Well, hell! His luck wasn't running any better. He lifted the glass and gulped the foam.

She watched him, her eyes following the movement of his throat. Her tongue licked her full lower lip.

Before he gave it a thought, he handed her the same beer again.

Rather than pouring it on his shoes, her hands slid around the glass. Her gaze remained on the beer.

Satisfaction throbbed in his belly. She'd probably like an introduction before he asked her to go home with him. "Name's Max."

Her lips pressed together and then curved into a smile that stretched the full lower lip. The lady had a rather large mouth. It was perfect. "As in Maximus?"

The smile warmed him while giving him confidence he hadn't totally blown it. He shifted his feet and stepped closer, bringing her crossed legs between his. "Do you doubt it?" he asked, his voice low.

Her head tilted back, and a frown drew together her finely arched brows. "Do you think I'm impressed with your caveman tactics?"

His glance slid down to her breasts. Her headlights were erect little points that stabbed toward him. "Damn right," he said, hoping he hadn't read her body language wrong.

With a toss of her hair, she uncrossed her legs, her knee caressing the inside of his thigh. "Sorry about that," she murmured, although she didn't look sorry at all. She'd just checked him out.

His heart kicked into a slow, thrumming throb. The lady knew where this was leading. She'd accepted his beer.

The part of him that had tensed in pursuit relaxed. She could be his if he didn't overplay his cards. And he had a decision to make. Savor a slower rise to climax or take her hard and fast? "Dance with me."

She shook her head, which swept the ends of her curly brown hair across the tops of her bare shoulders. "I don't dance."

He reached for the beer she held in her lap and set it on the bar. His fingers closed around her slender wrist, and he tugged her up from the stool.

"What do you think you're doing?" She tottered on her heels for a moment, and her nipples brushed his chest. Her gaze, wide-eyed, set his heart thumping in a slower, heavier beat. He swept his arm around her waist and pulled her along to the dance floor. He needed her in his arms now.

They were the only couple on the small square of parquet-printed linoleum. Max didn't give her a chance to protest, he simply pressed his body to hers—chest to hip, and slid his leg between her thighs. The heavy, grinding rhythm of the rock music suited his mood just fine. He shifted on his feet from side to side, not so much a dance as foreplay. His body introducing itself to hers.

She stiffened inside the circle of his arms. "Do you ever pay attention to what a woman tells you?" she asked, her words clipped.

Encouraged she hadn't hauled off and slapped him yet, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Sweetheart, I was listening, but not to what your lips were saying."

Her head jerked back, and her gaze bored into his. "Perhaps you should."

The look halted him in his tracks. He'd pushed her too hard. "All right." Sighing his regret, he stepped away. "I'm sorry. I misread the situation."

But she didn't walk away as he expected. Instead, her head tilted to the side, and she studied his face for a long moment, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

He wiped his expression free of hunger, hoping for another chance.

Finally, she looked around the bar and shrugged. "Well, seeing as I'm here…"

He didn't wait for her to change her mind. He pulled her into his arms.

She nestled her face in the crook of his neck and groaned. "This is happening too fast."

Relaxing to savor the sensations, he chuckled and pulled her closer. "I know what you mean," he murmured. A dark, musky floral scent rose from her hair and skin, wrapped him in heat.

Her arms snuck up around his neck, and her small, firm breasts pressed against his chest.

Once again pretending to dance, he shifted her slightly to glide her nipples across his chest. They'd been erect before their bodies met—they were hardened little bullets now.

"Do you think you'll overcome every one of my objections as easily?" she asked, her breath gusting gently in his ear.

"I promise you won't have one when the time comes." He lifted his leg and rubbed his thigh against her crotch.

Her head fell back, and her chocolate eyes glinted with amusement. "Sure of yourself, aren't you?"

He was getting there. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I smell your arousal."

Her breath gasped, but she didn't pull away. A tremor shook her body. "Do you think you're just going to get a quick—"

Placing a finger over her lips to shut her up, he said, "Whoa, sweetheart." He nuzzled her cheek. "Nothing about this'll be quick. This is just the appetizer." He bent his neck and kissed her sleek shoulder.

Her head fell back exposing her creamy throat, inviting him to slide his lips along her throat—which he did.

"You sound like you're going to eat me," she said, half-laughing, half-moaning.

Max stiffened and spoke between tightened lips, "I will, if you ask me sweetly."

Again, she gasped, following with a burst of soft, strained laughter.

Not the outright "yes" he hoped for, but promising just the same. He wished he had a glib tongue so he could put her at ease, but his body was too insistent, too ready to pounce for him to think straight.

Every sense tuned to her. Her body draped languidly across his chest. Her legs slid along either side of his thigh, and he wondered if she wanted another rough caress. He decided to test her by rubbing his thigh against her femininity.

She moaned—a sexy sound that made his dick throb.

His hands glided over her back, then smoothed to her sides. With his thumbs, he caressed the edges of her breasts. She didn't stiffen in his arms. "Look at me," he said.

Her head tilted back. Her eyes were wide open.

He swept his thumbs beneath the fabric of her top and went straight for the ripe little berries at the center of her breasts.

Her gaze darted beyond his shoulder to the bar.

"They can't see a thing. It's too dark." He swooped down to capture her lips.

Sounding like a kitten, she whimpered, pressing hard against his thumbs. Her hands clutched his shoulders.

He raked her tongue with his, and then swept around her mouth to touch her teeth, the roof of her mouth, before he pulled away to drag air into his lungs. "Baby, I want a bed beneath your back for what I'm gonna do to you." No way could he be subtle or patient with this one. She has to want this as much as I do…

Again, her throat moved. "And if I can't wait?"

He stilled for a moment, and then muttered, "Christ!" His need crowded insistently against the placket of his jeans. With a quick glance around the bar for the nearest exit, he pulled her down a hallway and into the restroom.

Once inside, he locked the door. Then he turned and stalked her, backing her into the old-fashioned wooden stall. "You have to spell it out for me. Do you want me to stop?"

Her eyes rounded. "I don't know. I don't know you."

His jaw clamped tight. "I won't hurt you. Or at least I'll try not to."

Her tongue wet her lips. "Good enough," she whispered.

Max palmed her breast with one hand; his other hand glided up her bare thigh and pushed up her short skirt. He went straight to the scrap of nylon covering her sex. He tipped the lid of the toilet closed with the toe of his boot and sat.

The woman, Pia, wasted no time climbing onto his lap, her thighs straddling him. Her breasts were level with his mouth, and she pushed the hem of her cropped top up, exposing them.

Max took the hint and groaned, rooting with his lips until he held a burgeoning nipple between them.

She grasped the back of his head, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. Her sex ground against the hard ridge of his cock, riding him, wriggling her hips so eagerly he thought he might spill his seed in his pants like a teenager.

He dragged his mouth from her breast. "Wait." He pushed her off his lap and stood, then placed his hands on the sides of her waist and lifted her high. "Hold onto the top of the stall, sweetheart."

Quickly catching his drift, she spread her arms wide across the top of the wooden stall and gripped the edge. He hefted her higher and stepped backward. She "lay", suspended from the top of the stall, her legs parted and draped over his shoulders. His face was poised at the opening of her legs.

He glanced up at her flushed face. "I did say I'd eat you, if you asked sweetly."

* * * * *

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

Shelli Stevens

Shiloh Walker

TJ Michaels

Revisiting LOVE BITES (and winners announced!)

Two contests have ended. Tons of winners are listed here, but first, you have to read to the end—or at least, I hope you read to get to the end! ~DD

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If you've never read the My Immortal Knight series, Monday will be a great opportunity to dive in. Not sayin' why–okay, yes I will. All Hallows Heartbreaker, Book 1, will be offered for free—for two weeks only! Since the publisher would love to introduce you to the series and entice you to read the rest, covers for the first four books have been redone (yeah, I need to get them changed on this website ASAP), and…on March 23rd MIK-8, My Sweet Succubus, releases.

On Monday, I'll post an excerpt from All Hallows Heartbreaker, but for now, here's something to enjoy from Book 2, Love Bites.

"…congratulations to Ms. Devlin for creating a masterpiece. This story has all the elements that a Gold Star book has in it. The novel has intense suspense that was thrilling and delightful,…"

Gold Star Award, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

"… LOVE BITES is a delicious, emotional romp of a story, a tale that builds powerfully on the old, often-used love triangle and succeeds beautifully in creating something new and exciting."

Sensual Romance

On the trail of a serial killer, vampire Quentin Albermarle is mistaken for the killer by a police special task force. Once the smoke clears, Quentin finds himself in a delicious position-atop one of the unit's crack officers, Darcy Henry.

In need of Quentin's access to the vampire sub-culture, the task force leadership invites Quentin to join the crime unit as a special advisor, much to the chagrin of the men in the unit, and especially, of Darcy.

A no-nonsense cop with no time for romance, Darcy suddenly finds herself embroiled in a steamy love triangle between her mortal partner, Joe, and the handsome vampire. Going from abstinence to wantonness, she is unable to resist the two men's relentless seduction or her own sensual curiosity about a vampire's special "kiss".

When the real killer threatens the life of someone close to her, Darcy makes a choice that forever binds the three of them together.

Darcy entered her house quietly and set the bags she'd retrieved from Quentin's hotel room on the floor. He could carry them the rest of the way to his bedroom when he woke. His bedroom. Already, the house felt alien. Invaded. As soon as she'd deposited Quentin and Joe on her front doorstep earlier, she'd hotfooted it out of the house. Retrieving his things had only been an excuse to put some distance between the vamp and her raging hormones. Why him? Why did her body come alive at just the sight of him?

Sunshine poured into the large open space of her Florida room, and she grinned. Joe was a devious man. He'd opened every blind and shutter to ensure the vamp remained trapped behind the guest bedroom door. Joe was on the couch sleeping, a tangle of covers knotted around his waist. His chest bare. With his arms flung above his head, she had an excellent view of his washboard abs and the arrow of black hair that stretched from nipple to nipple and down below the edge of the sheet.

Cursing herself for noticing, Darcy tiptoed past him. Her sexual libido had rotten timing. The vamp had awakened feelings she'd tamped down for three years.

Thankful she had Joe around to save her from herself, Darcy headed to her bedroom. Inside, she stripped off her clothes and padded on bare feet into her bathroom, intent on showering away the sand she was sure had worked itself into every crevice.

Reaching behind the shower curtain, she turned on the water. She brushed her teeth, and rummaged beneath the cabinet for the scented soap her mother had given her at Christmas. The raspberry-perfumed soap would be her secret indulgence. No matter she normally used only plain bar soap for a quick scrub. She wondered if the vampire's keen sense of smell would detect her change of routine.

She reached in to lift the stopper and stepped beneath the shower's spray.

"I thought you'd decided to find yourself another place to stay."



Darcy nearly screeched at Quentin's husky whisper. She whirled and then remembered she hadn't a stitch of clothing on. Her hands covered her breasts, but she quickly realized she had to look ridiculous. The rest of her was bare, and his hot gaze devoured every exposed inch.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, keeping her gaze glued on his face.

"Availing myself of my hostess's amenities?" he said, a smirk tilting one corner of his mouth.

One glance down and she'd be toast. She was already having problems breathing after noting the way the water ran in rivulets from the ends of his hair and down his broad, hairy chest. "Well, you can just waltz right out of here and go use the guest bathroom. I'm not sharing."

"Your boyfriend's made that impossible for me to do." He folded his arms over his chest. "You're stuck with me until dark."

"Not my problem. And his name's Joe. How the hell did you get past him?"

Quentin's smile stretched and he shrugged.

Darcy wished the rose-colored tile behind him would make him seem less…manly. "I'll scream, and Joe will come running. He'll kill you if he finds you here—and I won't be happy to clean up the mud you leave behind." She jerked when he reached over her shoulder for the shampoo.

His long, muscled forearm grazed her shoulder, and Darcy held herself stiff as a statue to keep a shudder from racking her body. His large, broad frame crowded her, sucking the air from the steam-filled stall. When he calmly squeezed a glob of shampoo into his palm and raised his hands to lather his hair, her breath hitched.

She didn't know why she didn't make good on her threat to scream for help, except she'd be embarrassed as hell if she were found naked with the vamp. Her reticence couldn't have a thing to do with all that golden skin and the tufts of dark hair beneath his arms—and certainly not the cock lifting from its bed of wiry brown hair.

Ah hell! She'd looked.

Darcy spun away and grabbed the washcloth. Scrubbing her arms and breasts, she abraded her skin to remind herself this was a dangerous man—whom she probably shouldn't turn her back on.

When his soapy hands slid around her waist and pulled her back snug against his chest and abdomen, the only thought that didn't blow her mind was that his cock rested in the crease of her ass.

"I'll offer you a trade," he said, his mouth next to her ear.

Darcy fought her body's inclination to lean into his embrace. If she were going to be weak, she'd lay all the blame at his doorstep.

"I need blood—about half a pint to stave off grumpiness…" He licked her ear then sucked her lobe between his teeth.

A frisson of desire shuddered through her body, unwanted, but so strong her head fell to the side, exposing her neck.

"… and I can give you an orgasm unlike anything you've ever known."

Mention of the "O" word tightened her belly to a hard knot. He'd stirred an ache when he'd first strode out of the waves. Nothing less than a wild fucking would do to get him out her system.

His hands smoothed up her stomach to cup her breasts.

Darcy tried to push his hands down. Not because she didn't crave his touch there, but because she knew her small breasts didn't stack up well against the globes on the woman he'd been with earlier. Her traitorous nipples constricted instantly.

She eased her legs apart and let his cock slide between them.

Quentin groaned and tongued her neck. All the while his hands caressed her, smoothing over her breasts, across her belly, and down to her pussy.

Darcy swayed on her feet as pliant as a rag doll in his arms, biting her lips to keep the moans that threatened to tear from her throat. His fingers separated her labia and stroked between. Her hands reached behind to grasp his thighs, otherwise she'd have melted to the floor of the shower in a puddle.

He licked behind her ear, then tsked. "We'll have to do something about this sand first."

Again, he reached for the shampoo. When his fingers massaged her scalp, Darcy swore someone purred. His strong fingers worked in the suds and kept right on kneading and shaping. When he drew her under the water to rinse her hair, Darcy's eyes were closed and she followed him, docile as a lamb.

"Give me your soap," he said.

Her eyes slowly blinked open. "Soap?"

"The bar you're clutching in your hand."

Darcy looked down her arm and realized she still held her mother's soap in her hand. She held it up for him.

Leaning down, he sniffed, then took the bar. "Raspberries. My favorite. Now come here." He drew her away from the water and sat on the ledge at the far end of the stall, pulling her to stand between his open thighs. With a twirl of his finger, he indicated that she should turn around.

She shot one last meaningless glare, then turned away.

He worked the lather between his hands then glided his soapy hands over her skin from shoulders to buttocks and all the sensitive points in between. When he reached her ass, Darcy's heart beat loudly. His hands parted her buttocks and his finger trailed down the crevice. "No sand here," he said, gravel in his voice.

In the creases between her legs and buttocks, he found a trace of grit, so he lifted her cheeks and spent minutes soaping and smoothing to ensure not a granule was missed. By the time he'd finished, Darcy's legs wobbled and she was ready to scream.

When he turned her to wash her front, Darcy's gaze fell on his face. His nose was flared, his cheeks reddened and the smirk was now a tight line of tension. Gratified he was every bit as overcome with desire as she was, Darcy gave herself over to his touch. Just this once.

He lathered his hands and reached for her breasts. Already tight and puckered, her nipples caught the soap bubbles he smoothed there. His large hands dwarfed her breasts, but despite her earlier doubts, he played with them, apparently fascinated.

His fingers rolled her nipples, tugged and squeezed until they stretched, engorged. She nearly protested when he left them to glide his hands down her belly. He swirled a finger inside her belly button and Darcy's abdomen jumped and quivered, her legs once again turning to jelly. Then he reached lower.

She parted her legs to make room for his hands and he swept them between, rubbing over her outer labia, then parted them to finger her tender inner lips.

Darcy reached for his shoulders to steady herself, then leaned to rest her head on his shoulder as his fingers rimmed her cunt, circling, rubbing. He found her clitoris and plucked it. "Lift your leg over mine," he said.

He didn't want mere compliance—he demanded her knowing participation. Darcy was beyond any pretense of defiance. She lifted one leg and draped it over his. The space between her legs was wide open for his marauding fingers to explore. Her nails bit into his shoulders.

Looking down the space between their bodies, Darcy's breath grew shallow and raspy. Their differences, human to vampire, weren't important now. How their bodies complimented each other's, feminine to masculine, assumed precedence. Something deep inside her soft core yearned to yield to his mastery.

His erection stood straight up, veins crisscrossing beneath golden skin tinged with red. The wide, plump head looked soft and purplish. She couldn't resist smoothing a fingertip over it.

"No touching. Not yet," he said, his words clipped.

He rolled the bar of soap between his palms working up lather, then set it aside. When his hands descended to her crotch, Darcy closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

His fingers rubbed over the hair on her mons, tugging, massaging, and then he reached lower to follow the lines where her thighs met her pussy, his fingers smoothing, yet creating an ache that drew her belly taut.

She widened her legs and sank slightly on one knee to rock against his hand. Hurry! She wanted to shout at him, she needed him to be inside her now.

He traced a finger between her labia and Darcy gasped, sure that now he would dip inside. "Open your eyes," he said.

He removed one of his hands from her and circled his cock. "This is vampire cock, sweetheart," he said, his voice roughening.

"What? You think, once I've had vamp, I'll never go back?" As soon as the words were spoken, she regretted her quip. It was something she tended to do when she was nervous.

Quentin's face broke into grin. "I can guarantee any man who comes after me will be found wanting."

"You think highly of yourself, don't you?"

"I've over a hundred fifty years of practical experience, love. I'm just stating facts."

A hundred fifty years of fucking? She wet her lips with her tongue. "From where I'm standing, I'm not seeing anything that special." Liar!

His hand glided up and down himself. "This is only one piece of the equipment, love. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I want to describe the process, so there will be no surprises. I don't want to frighten you."

"I'm not scared." Her skittering heartbeat made a liar out of her.

One brow rose, mocking her assertion. "Well, then let's get on with it." The hand between her legs, rubbed over her hips, then clasped one buttock to force her closer. He lowered the head of his cock to her pussy and pushed between her legs.

* * * * *

Okay, enough teasing. Back to the contests. Winners are named below. Congratulations everyone! Be sure to email me to arrange delivery of your prizes! If you have any questions regarding what you've won, winners, go to the contest page: Contest Page

Drumroll…

The winners of The 4x2x4 Contest are:

March 1, #26: Miranda C

March 4, #6: Becky Ward

March 12, #4: Ju Dimello

March 14, #2: Shadow

Congratulations, ladies. Check the contest page for the list of eligible books and email me your choices and your snail mail addy!

The winners of The Promo Ho Contest are:

HMN (Heather)

Shaly R

Thanks so much for your support! Be sure to email me to let me know which email address you'd like your prizes sent to!

Reminder: Call for Submissions for WILD AT HEART

If you look closely, you'll see that the tiger on the right is missing its hind leg. This beautiful cat was rescued and given a second chance by the fine folks at the Turpentine Creek Wildlife Refuge.

For all you writers out there who are also animal lovers, here's your chance to help a worthy cause. The entire proceeds from the book the Diamond State Romance Authors intend to publish will go to the refuge. I wrote about the facility back in October. Check out Sweet Refuge! for more details about the good work they do.

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Wild at Heart

Editor: Delilah Devlin

Publisher: Diamond State Romance Authors

Deadline: April 1, 2012

Wild at Heart is open to all authors.

Editor Delilah Devlin is looking for stories for a special project to benefit the Turpentine Creek Wildlife Refuge.

Last October, six Diamond State Romance Author chapter members spent a weekend falling in love with the Turpentine Creek Wildlife Refuge and its exotic inhabitants. The refuge is home to large cats and a variety of exotic animals that would otherwise have to be put down because they aren't suitable for placement in zoos or to be returned to the wild. The need for financial support was apparent. Our chapter decided to pool its resources and find a way to help.

What we propose is to produce a volume of short stories, all centered around animals in need of refuge. All proceeds from the sales of the book will go directly to the Turpentine Creek Refuge. We will edit the submissions, seek professional cover art and formatting, and assist the refuge by uploading the anthology to online bookstores like Amazon's Kindle store and Barnes & Noble's Nook store. Additionally, we will help upload the book to CreateSpace so that printed volumes can be available for sale in brick-and-mortar bookstores throughout Arkansas and inside the refuge's shop.

This is an international call for submissions of short stories to be donated for the cause. Only the best stories will be accepted. All genres of fiction (contemporary and paranormal, sweet adult romance and Young Adult) will be considered. Please keep in mind that stories must be PG-rated as the book will be two-sided—one side geared toward adult readers and the other toward teenaged readers.

Examples of the kinds of stories we seek:

A maimed Iraqi war veteran learns to accept his disability by working with equally damaged animals
A teenaged girl helps a were-cougar hide his true nature while both hunt for an escaped cat
A teenaged couple encounters a tiger escaped from its private owner's cage and work together to find help to capture and care for it
A pushy animal psychic must gain the trust of the refuge's veterinarian to help a depressed bear
A troubled teenager discovers a tiger living in a national forest, then seeks a way to prevent locals staging a hunt from killing it

How to submit: Prepare your 1,500 to 4,000 words story in a double-spaced, Arial, 12 point, black font Word document with pages numbered (.doc, NOT.docx) OR rich text format. Indent the first line of each paragraph half an inch and double space (regular double spacing, do not add extra lines between paragraphs or do any other irregular spacing). US grammar (double quotation marks around dialogue, etc.) is required.

In your document at the top left of the page, include your legal name (and pseudonym if applicable), mailing address, and 50 word or less bio in the third person to dsrawildatheart@gmail.com. If you are using a pseudonym, please provide your real name and pseudonym and make it clear which one you'd like to be credited as. Authors may submit up to 2 stories.

About the editor: Ms. Devlin has published over one hundred stories in multiple genres and lengths. Her published print titles include Into the Darkness, Seduced by Darkness, Darkness Captured, Down in Texas, Texas Men and Ravished by a Viking. Her short stories are featured in Zane's Purple Panties, and Cleis Press's Lesbian Cowboys, Girl Crush, Fairy Tale Lust, Lesbian Lust, Passion, Carnal Machines, and Dream Lovers. She is published by Avon, Kensington, Harlequin, Atria/Strebor, Ellora's Cave, Samhain Publishing, and Berkley. In Fall 2011, she debuted her first anthology with Cleis Press, Girls Who Bite.

Direct any questions you have regarding your story or the submission process to Delilah at dsrawildatheart@gmail.com.