Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 502
March 4, 2012
Latest Release and Sunday Report Card
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.
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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!
March 3, 2012
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.
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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
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
TJ Michaels
Zoë Archer
March 2, 2012
Guest Blogger: Eliza Gayle
Remember! The 4x2x4 Contest continues! Check yesterday's post for details!
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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?
March 1, 2012
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?
February 29, 2012
Guest Blogger: B.J. McCall
I'm often asked which genre is my favorite to write and my answer is paranormal. Like many of you, I love werewolves. The shifter genre has come a long way since the 1941 classic film, The Wolfman. My werewolves aren't cursed figures that transform and stalk innocent villagers while the moon is full. My werewolves are productive citizens like cops, soldiers, reporters and pack leaders. They live in a world ruled by pack law as well as human law.
I love werewolf stories and I write books about werewolves living in contemporary times. I was fascinated by the issues of falling in love and finding the perfect alpha mate while dealing with the structure of pack law, clan life and mating rules. My stories are romances that deal with the complexities of those laws. The pack is ruled by the elders and their decisions have the impact of a supreme court. Any werewolves defying the elders and pack law must suffer the consequences of their actions.
My Claiming Moon heroine, Grace has a decision to make. She can accept the wolf her parents have approved and the elders have sanctioned as her future mate, or she can follow her heart. Grace is in love with another wolf and defies her parents and the elders, but her decision has serious ramifications. She in persona non grata with her pack and she must live in the human world.
My stories also deal with the issues of a romance between a human and a werewolf. These mixed relationships have a special set of issues. Just think about living with a shifter. As a human you can love them, but you'll never be one of them. If the pack doesn't approve of you, your significant other must make a difficult choice and be willing to live apart from the pack.
Take that human/wolf issue and add the problem of an inappropriate relationship between a military officer and a werewolf subordinate. In Holiday Moon that's the dilemma for Calix, the human commander of black-ops unit of werewolves. When Sezri goes MIA, Calix must decide between the she-wolf he loves and his career.
Pack law, clan life and mating rules make for interesting twists to werewolf romances. The plots and the problems are fascinating and writing about the change from human to fur and fangs is a challenge. As a writer I must let my imagination fly and bring the wolf shifter to life. One day I hope to see a wolf in the wild. I'm sure the sighting will inspire a character and another wolf tale.
If you love werewolves, I write them. Moonlust will be released on March 22nd by Changeling Press.
February 28, 2012
Guest Blogger: Pepper Phillips
Swamp People, a reality television show is extremely popular in Louisiana. The Landry family is located in the Atchafalaya Basin in southern Louisiana. Their claim to fame is hunting alligators, or as the Cajun people say, "Al-a-ma-ga-tor."
I have my own in-house al-a-ma-gator hunter. Oh, yes. Every year it is the thrill of winning the 'tags'…you must have a license to hunt the beasts, and you must put in your name for the 'lottery.' For some reason the dh has been winning tags for several years in a row. Either he's lucky or there are fewer and fewer hunters in our central Louisiana location.
This year he won five tags, so off he went with his line and chicken from Wal-Mart. Hunting for alligators is extremely skillful. All you need is a pond with an alligator, a line with a chicken hooked to it, and a pistol. Throw that chicken in the pond, tie the line to an anchor and come back the next day to see if he took the bait. The dh did that.
The next day, he tugged on the line, and sure enough, there was a hungry alligator attached to it. Only thing was, the al-a-ma-ga-tor was huge. So, he called his two sons. They were at work, but could leave early to give their dad a hand. So, they showed up in their work clothes. Since one is a Nursing Home Administrator and the other is an Attorney, we're not talking sneakers and jeans. They were in dress clothes.
Fearless as they are, they held onto the line with the alligator and dragged him to the water's edge. One of them took the pistol and at his father's command to "Choot 'em" (a phrase that comes from the reality show) — shot the alligator in the only place you can safely shoot, the top of the head, where there is small hole in the skull located right behind the eyes.
The alligator took offense to that bullet and did what an alligator does. He started to roll. Remember the two sons are holding onto the line, and as the alligator rolls, they are being pulled closer and closer into the water. The dh is yelling to "let go of the line," as they are being dragged forward, tangled in the line at this point, when the alligator stops and the kid with the pistol gives him two more taps in the head.
Mission accomplished. Sort of.
They needed to get the alligator out of the water, so they tied a chain to him and drug him out with a truck. Since he was so huge, they got a front end loader and picked him up and put him in the back of the truck.
Here's a picture of their catch.
This beauty is approximately forty years old, 11′-9″ and weighs in at approximately 600#.
Honestly, would you want this swimming in your pond?
The property is on what we call our 'camp' and small kids are not free to roam the property, as you can see, it can be dangerous. But the smiles on the hunters face is worth it.
The kid in the picture is six foot three, to give you an idea of how huge that alligator is. He changed his clothes after he was dragged into the water.
As far as I know, I am the only woman who has to have an alligator skull as part of her living room decor. It doesn't look too bad with a bow on it's head. At least that's what I tell myself.
Pepper Phillips
http://pepperphillips.com
"The Devil Has Dimples"
Southern sass with a touch of heart…
Coming soon…"Unconditionally"
February 27, 2012
A Question…
The Promo Ho Contest continues! If you'd like to be in the running for one of TWO $25.00 gift certificates—well, follow the link to find out how to enter!
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"Monday, Monday… da-da, da-duh-dum-dum…" Yeah, I'm singing the Mamas and the Papas this morning. Don't remember who they were? Well, maybe I just like to listen to the oldies station!
Anyways, music is on my mind, so I have a question:
In your opinion, what is the best piece of music ever written?
February 26, 2012
Newest Treasures and Sunday Report Card
As usual, I have tons to catch you up on today. There's some fun stuff in here along with the dry boring report, but you can't appreciate sweet without sour, right? ~DD
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Latest Treasures
On Friday, rather than being a good author, I headed to Hot Springs with my daughter and SIL to hunt for things for her new house. If you haven't heard me mention it before, we bought a fix-er-upper house across the street from mine and have basically begun gutting the thing. Anyway, Friday, we went to buy a sink and knobs for the new kitchen cabinets. On our way back, we stopped at a flea market. The Red-Headed Hellion and I love to hunt for treasure. See what we found?
My daughter found this buried on a shelf. When she held it up, I think she actually expected for me to let her keep it. LOL! Jeannie's miiinnne! Doesn't King Kong look like he's spying on her from over the top of my crystal ball?
I still have a major girl crush on Xena! And now I have the doll to prove it. I sooooo want to break her out of her box. Think I'll have to so she can play with Thor—she'll break him like a twig!
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Contests
The Promo Ho Contest continues! Check the Contest page for details about how you can win one of TWO $25.00 gift certificates! And on Tuesday, I will have a brand new contest with a fun or strange (haven't made up my mind yet which—but definitely not Jeannie!) prize for you to win. So, you see, you HAVE to stop by to check out my blog. May as well make me your daily habit, because you'll forget to be here on Tuesday.
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Sunday Report Card
Not ball-of-fire production this week, but not too shabby either.
1) I worked on the opening scenes of CITBE—after I did a ton of research on St. Louis Cemetery #1 in New Orleans and voodoo loas. The story's starting to gel, so going is slow as I feel my way through it.
2) I completed copyedits on My Sweet Succubus and it's on it's way to publication in March. Woot!
3) And I started a new short story for another call for submissions from Cleis.
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This Week's Guests
This week, I'll have the following ladies blogging here:
Feb 27—Pepper Phillips
Feb 29—BJ McCall
Mar 2—Eliza Gayle
Be sure to drop by to say hello to them. You might just find another author you have to read!
February 25, 2012
Saturday Snippet: Author's Choice
I thought I'd post an excerpt from an upcoming book. This is a scene that takes place in the distant past although the rest of the book is firmly planted in the here and now. Enjoy a glimpse into Dragon's Desire!
An ancient dragon sends a loyal knight on a quest to find a virgin to ease his curse. Who knew a virgin would be so hard to find?
Ragged wisps of clouds crawled across the face of the full moon, lightening then darkening the barren precipice. The villagers called it The Dragon's Atoll. The bürgermeister had given him directions, told him when to begin the climb, warning him that the atoll existed only for an hour at midnight before it disappeared.
The knight had climbed the rocky precipice and now hid behind a stone pillar, sword drawn. He listened to the soft sobs of the girl the villagers had chained to the pillar according to rules handed down for a millennium, or so the elders had said. She was their sacrifice, their gift to the winged demon to pacify its hunger and spare them its wrath.
The knight had scoffed silently at their fear. He didn't believe in dragons or demons. At least not mythical beasts. He'd seen enough in his travels to Palestine and back to know evil existed, but true evil resided in the hearts of greedy, bloodthirsty men.
Still, the purse filled with gold that the villagers offered him to slay the dragon and rid them of their curse convinced him to remain where he was.
"I shall die," the girl whispered, "savaged by the beast."
"You won't die," he whispered. "'Tis only a story."
"You weren't raised on tales of the horror. Do you think they are only stories told to frighten children?" she said, her voice rising toward the end.
She was comely thing with golden hair and gentle curves. He'd fought shock and disgust when the old men had cut her clothing from her body to leave her nude. The night was chilly and the sound of her teeth clacking as her body shivered had him reaching for his cape. If they were bound to wait together, she needn't freeze.
Come morning, he'd lead her from the mountain and deliver her to her father, the bürgermeister who'd hired him, safe and sound.
He stepped around the pillar and began to slip the cloak around her, but she shook her head. "You mustn't."
"You are cold."
"I'll not be the reason my village suffers."
He sighed and dropped the cloak, trying not to let his gaze slide down her naked frame but failing. Her nipples were ruched, the tips drawn into tight buds on her round, firm mounds.
"How were you so unlucky to be chosen?" he asked quietly, leaning his back against the gray granite rock so that he looked out across the atoll rather than at her.
"There is a lottery of maidens. All our names are entered."
His lips twitched and he shot her glance. "And how do the villagers know you are truly virgin?"
A frown drew her pretty brows together. "The midwife examines all the women."
"If you knew you risked this fate, why did you not lie with a man to render yourself unfit?"
"Because as awful as this fate is, 'tis worse to cheat the dragon. Every family guards the virtue of their daughters to spare the village a terrible fate." Her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them again, tears filled them. "You shouldn't be here. My father was wrong to try to end the curse."
"You would sacrifice yourself willingly?"
"I have a younger brother, cousins, friends. I wouldn't want to see them harmed."
"What exactly happens when this beast appears?"
She swallowed hard. "He devours the virgin."
The knight grunted. "It's likely only feral pigs or wolves you should fear."
"No wolf or pig would devour a woman whole."
"How do you know this?"
Her breath shook. "There is never bone or blood, hair or flesh remaining. The creature opens his mouth and swallows his offering in a single gulp."
He grasped her cold hand. "I will protect you, whether from dragon or pig. No harm shall come to you."
Her eyelids drifted closed. "I wish I could believe you."
A sound came from above them. At first, he thought it must be the wings of a large owl, but the closer the flapping came, his heartbeat slowed and grew louder, a steady thumping to match the beat of the large wings stirring the air.
"Hide!" she whispered.
He ducked behind the pillar, tightened his grip on his sword, and searched the air above them, but the clouds masked the moon again, sending everything into pitch darkness.
A deep, resonant thud shook the ground as a large shadow settled onto the atoll.
The girl whimpered. "No, no."
The knight sprang from around the rock to stand in front of her, sword raised.
A loud, angry roar pierced the silence, hot breath gusting in the knight's face. The clouds cleared, moonlight shone on a large elongated head, silvered the scales covering the creature he faced—a dragon indeed—with a wingspan that eclipsed the width of the atoll. Those wings flapped, producing gusts of wind so strong he was pushed back against the girl whose body leaned into his as she sobbed.
Another roar rent the air, and the knight recovered from his shock and struck out with his sword arm, stabbing toward the creature's chest. However, a tree-trunk thick arm batted it way, and then another, fisted, slammed against his chest, toppling him to the side.
He landed on his back, but before he could regain his breath and think to roll away, a heavy foot pressed against his belly, holding him to the ground.
With the knight helplessly restrained, the dragon turned his head to the girl. He sniffed the air around her. Its tongue flickered out and licked her breast, her belly, then flickered out again to stroke between her legs before retracting between jaws filled with ragged, gnashing teeth.
The girl screamed and flatted herself against the pillar, but to no avail. The creature moved closer and lowered its head.
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Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors' blogs:
Eliza Gayle
Rhian Cahill
Anne Rainey
Jody Wallace
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
HelenKay Dimon
Shiloh Walker
TJ Michaels
Shelli Stevens
Zoë Archer
Leah Braemel
February 24, 2012
Guest Blogger: Miranda Baker (Contest)
When I was a teenager, I had a bumper sticker that said, "Forget Love…Go For Lust." I never put it on the car, of course. My mother would have had a cow…and she might have started paying attention to my love life. But that bumper sticker adorned my locker, my college dorm room and it's still sticking in my head.
Although I learned from a Judith Krantz in "I'll Take Manhattan," that T-shirts are "pure aggression," I have one that says "Plays well with others." I also bought the "Runs with scissors," and gave it to a friend. I wear my "What I really need are minions," shirt when I'm trying to meet a deadline. And that "Be careful or you'll end up in my novel," T-shirt always makes me smile, but I don't own it. Why warn them, lol?!
Words stick with me. I love Nike ads, the J. Peterman catalog, the Zingerman's catalog and Anne Taintor, Flavia and S.A.R.K. I joy in a greeting card so chock full of meaning, I actually spend $4.99 on it. I love it when someone paints a vivid picture in my head and I'm transported somewhere wild and new. I'm a sucker for provocative irony, too. When I was in high school, this manifested as a thing for buttons. All that angst, all that lust and clueless passion combined with egocentrism, inspired more than one flirty button purchase. I actually wore that "Come near me and I'll kill you" button out on a date with a guy I knew was going to dump me…any…minute. *Sigh* He just wasn't that into me, but I'm ever so grateful for our eye-opening interlude. He was wild and weird and a crazy-good kisser. I love that button because it reminds me of me, fifteen, dangerous and full of passion.
Do you have an inspiring phrase? Some compelling collection of words that reminds you of someone…or someone you used to be? Please share them in the comments. One lucky commenter will win a bar of Lush brand Lust soap and Romance Trading Cards for my erotic romance novellas SoloPlay and Bottoms Up. The Lust soap smells like jasmine, long believed to be an aromatic aphrodisiac. Unlike my teenage self, I don't think you should forget love…but lust never goes out of style! Thanks for having me, Delilah!
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About Miranda Baker
It makes me chuckle to think about all the romantic short stories I wrote in my rather too literary creative writing classes in college. If only one of my professors had steered me toward popular fiction! On the other hand, if I had discovered my calling back then, I wouldn't have gone to culinary school, I wouldn't have met my husband, we wouldn't have had three children and I wouldn't have turned to erotic romance to get my mojo back during all this hair-raising kid raising.
My website: http://www.mirandabaker.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/Miranda_Baker
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MirandaBakerfans
Click on cover to purchase Solo Play!
