Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 511

The Dragon with a Cup of Joe Contest!

The Dragon with a Cup of Joe Contest

What can you win?

This lovely "Lady and a Dragon" coffee cup that comes in a very pretty box.

What do you have to do to enter?

Post a comment—here or on my Facebook page. I follow the KISS motto! (Keep It Simple, Stupid! )

This contest lasts until December 20th, so there are plenty of chances to enter!

You need something to talk about while you're here today, don't you?—besides the pretty coffee cup. Here's a question:

Would you be more afraid to be trapped on a rope bridge over a canyon

or in a dark cramped cave?

(Also, don't forget to check out my Contest page! Go there for a chance to win a $25 gift certificate from Amazon.com!)

Catch me being Wild & Wicked!

I posted a lovely review for A Four-Gone Conclusion at Wild & Wicked Cowboys. I'd love for you to stop by there and say hello! I'll be busy here working on getting the next cool contest posted then switching gears to slam down pages on Lone Heart!

Oh! And the winner of yesterday's Facebook-related contest is…Gabi Wurst! Gabi, send me an email! ~DD

Snippet Saturday: Secondary Characters

Secondary characters add color and help to display different sides to a hero or heroine's personality. Sometimes, I have fun giving hints of what's to come in follow-up stories. Enjoy this snippet from the opening of A Four-Gone Conclusion where you meet ALL the Logan brothers over a typical family meal.

One devilish night…or a chance at heaven?

Lone Star Lovers, Book 5

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

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

Ellie thought she'd be a dried up old spinster before Johnny finally untangled his tongue long enough to ask for a date. But instead of teaching him better uses for that tongue, his brothers have whisked her away to the ranch. At first she's furious…then intrigued when she starts to wonder what it might be like to have not just one sexy cowboy dedicated to her pleasure, but four…



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

"It's time you boys found yerselves a wife." Sam Logan made his pronouncement then waited, watching the four younger men seated at the table from the corner of his eye. He didn't have to wait long for his words to sink in. They exploded in the room with the force of a silent grenade.

Johnny's jaw closed with a snap, and he laid his spoon down on the scarred oak table. His black winged brows drew together, nearly meeting over his dark eyes as he raised his head.

Sam suppressed a smile. That look could make the toughest hombre gulp, but Sam wasn't the least bit concerned. Johnny tended to look mean when things changed. His oldest boy hated any kind of change.

If any other man had said what he had, Johnny would have cussed under his breath and aimed a piercing, silencing glare. However, he respected Sam, trusted him as much as he could anyone. That trust and respect were the only things that kept his butt on the bench beside his brother Killian.

For his part, Killian's eyes narrowed. The corners of his lips twitched. Likely he was amused by Johnny's reaction and didn't want to let him off the hook too quickly, but was already lining up all the reasons why Sam's idea was ludicrous. He was quick that way.

Sam calmly ladled the hearty stew he'd made into his mouth and let his gaze roam to the twins. Jason was coughing into his napkin while Mace gave him "helpful" taps between his shoulder blades.

Mace caught his stare and grinned. "A wife, did you say?"

Sam grunted, ignoring the one word that had caught his son's attention. "This is the third time this week we've had stew," he murmured. Not to change the subject, but to point out a glaring fact.

"I like stew just fine," Johnny muttered.

"This house misses a woman's touch." There, he'd said it. Sat the big gorilla in the room right at the dinner table. Impossible to ignore.

"Gracie can't be replaced," Killian said softly.

The permanent ache next to his heart echoed that truth. Sam nodded. "She's gone. Three years. I miss her every day. Know you do too. But life goes on. You're men now. You have an obligation. Ranchin's a family business. Y'all need families."

Johnny cleared his throat. "No disrespect intended, Sam, but you didn't get sons the old-fashioned way."

"Not because Gracie and I didn't try. And in the end, we had no regrets. We both loved you all like you was our own."

"So, you'd rather saddle us with—"

Sam aimed a quelling stare. "Think I felt like Gracie was a noose around my neck?"

"No sir, but…" Johnny's hands fisted on the tabletop. "Hell, how're we to find someone like her?"

Sam understood what he meant. Gracie's passing had left a hole in all their hearts. The boys had loved her. Took to her the very first day he'd brought each of them home. Gracie had been born to be a mother, and she'd showered them all with the things they'd needed most—acceptance and unconditional love.

"Boys, Gracie wasn't born a rancher's wife. Truth is, she didn't know a bull from a cow and damn near poisoned me with the first meals she cooked. But she learned. Find a woman willin' to learn, one you kin love and who'll love you back."

"You said, 'a wife'." Mace wasn't gonna let that slip of the tongue go.

Sam shook his head and gave the twins a faint glimmer of a smile. Those two could always see the humor in any predicament. "Thought I'd give you two options. I know one can't piss without the other goin' too. And there are damn few single women to go around these parts. 'Nough said?" When all of them nodded, he cleared his throat. "I'll be out of town for the next four days. Auction in Abilene. The house is yours."

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

Lauren Dane

Rhian Cahill

Eliza Gayle

Anne Rainey

Jody Wallace

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Vivian Arend

Alison Kent

HelenKay Dimon

Shelli Stevens

Shiloh Walker

Sneak Peek of DRIVE ME CRAZY!

The official release date of Cleis Press's latest collection, Best Erotic Romance, is December 6th, but Amazon, for one, is already shipping! I have a little story in this first annual "Best of" collection, entitled "Drive Me Crazy." Click on the cover to head to Amazon if you'd like to order your copy now. Hope you enjoy the excerpt!

Oh, and while you're over at Amazon, how about clicking on "Like" and the "tags"—those things do help a book! Thanks! ~DD

This inaugural collection of erotic romance features the very best of the genre. In erotic romance, the sexual component is critical to the development of the romantic relationship. Each of these masterfully written tales contains the essence of true romance: a central love story and an emotionally-satisfying, optimistic ending. What sets Best Erotic Romance apart is the scorching hot sex and the happily-ever-after (or happy-for-now) ending. Award-winning romance writer and editor Kristina Wright and her cast of terrific romance writers have crafted stories that touch the hearts and minds of readers, and linger in the memory for a long, long time.

Just a glimpse of him standing in profile, arms crossed over his well-developed chest and leaning his firm, round butt against the dispatch counter, was enough to shore up my weakening resolve. Dressed in faded blue jeans, a black, chest-hugging t-shirt, and a red Razorback ball cap turned backwards on his dark shaggy hair, he was every woman's blue-collar fantasy. My mouth dried as I glanced down his tall, muscled frame. What woman in her right mind wouldn't want one night with all that ripped hotness?

And that's all it could be—one night. I'd waited until the last possible moment to make my move.

The midnight drive to the dispatch office had given me plenty of time to argue my way out of what had seemed like a good plan earlier when I'd realized that the planets had aligned to give me this one last chance to fulfill my long-standing fantasy.

There'd never been the right time. For the longest time, I was married. When my husband dumped me, Danny had been living with a woman with two kids, and seemed to be heading down a straight road to marriage.

We'd flirted; he'd issued lazy invitations for dates or a quickie at the Motel 6 down the road. But I'd never detected even a hint of serious interest. If something was going to happen, I had to be the one to make a move. Today had been my last day at Henderson Transport. It was now or never.

All the reasons why I was crazy to consider it fell away as I ticked through them in my mind:

He's too young—He'll be happy because I won't have any expectations, I said to myself. Well, none beyond a really good time.

I'm management and he's a driver—Midnight had just ticked past, so not true anymore. We were both free agents. Both consenting adults. All he had to do was say yes.

"You'll never see him again," I muttered under my breath as I rubbed my cold hands together. "If he turns you down, you won't have to live with his smug smile."

I sucked in a deep fortifying breath, adjusted the neckline of the red Lycra top to show my breasts to their best advantage, and pushed through the glass door.

His head turned at the sound, and then he straightened away from the counter and dropped his arms. "You cuttin' my route, Angel?"

I gave him a crooked smile. "Think I'd do that and ask you to wait for me here in the middle of the night?"

His brows drew together, curiosity glinting in his gaze before it dropped to my boobs. I'd worn a bra that pretty much left everything sitting on a shelf. My nipples were outlined against the red, stretchy fabric of my top, the tips spiking because I'd given them a little tweak before I'd exited my car.

His frown deepened. "What's this all about Angela?"

I cleared my throat and tried for a sultry look. "I think you know."

He cocked his head and looked me up and down again. Slowly. "You don't have to hijack a man's keys to get his attention, sweetheart."

I planted my hands on my generous hips. "Apparently, I do, because you sure as shit haven't followed through on any one of your invitations."

His lips twitched. "I thought you flirted like that with all the guys."

"You ever see me do it? Even once?"

His jaw tightened. Fatigue showed in the shadows under his eyes. Stubble clung to his craggy cheeks.

I felt a momentary twinge of guilt over the fact I was keeping him from his bed, but that was all I'd allow. He was young and hot as hell. If he needed sleep that damn bad, he could tell his latest squeeze to come around another time. Tonight, he was mine.

"My keys weren't in the lockbox. I know I left 'em there."

"You did indeed," I said nodding. Then I looked him up and down, making sure he hadn't mistaken my intent. "Fact is, I have an itch that needs scratchin' and I'm hopin' you'll help me out."

I tried to exude more confidence than I felt, but lost my nerve on the return trip up his hard body. I paused and swallowed hard, then gave a little cough to loosen the knot lodging at the back of my throat. When I reached his mouth, he was grinning.

Shit.

"Angela, is there somethin' you want?"

You, preferably naked and tied spread-eagle on a bed so you can't stop me nibbling every edible part of you.

"Angela?"

"Is there something I want? Yeah, there is."

"Then just say it."

But I couldn't. I felt foolish enough. I reached into my purse and drew out his key ring. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken this so far."

"You made me wait half an hour, when I could have been home, showered and in bed. You know how long I've been out this time."

"I know. I arranged the schedule."

Still, he didn't take the keys.

I took a step toward him and had to tilt my head to maintain the lock on his gray gaze.

His hands settled on my waist."You want somethin', sweetheart?" he repeated, his voice lowering to a sexy rumble.

I squeezed my eyes shut, prayed for courage and that the blush staining my cheeks would fade. "I want you," I said, then opened my eyes.

His grin widened. "Now, was that so hard?"

"Matter of fact it was."

He bent toward me, his gaze narrowing on my mouth, but I turned away my face. "Not here. Your rig."

His eyebrows shot up, and he pushed me gently back. "After you. You know where I'm docked, and you have a key. Let yourself inside and get comfortable. I'm hittin' the locker room for a quick shower. I smell like diesel." He turned on his heel, giving me another view of that backside I'd drooled over for months.

A moan slipped from my mouth, and I heard a chuckle as he pushed through the door and left me standing weak-kneed in his wake.

A Question…

I'm sick as a dog today and not able to spend much time in front of the monitor, so this is a quick post.

Have you ever been escorted out of a place by security?

As a teenager, I was asked to leave a movie theater for making too much noise with my friends, but I can't remember anything more exciting than that. Tell me your story!

Guest Blogger: Cheryl Ann Smith

Persistence

Persistence is a word often thrown around in publishing. If an author writes books and is persistent, she'll get published.

Well, maybe.

Persistence has many faces. It can help a person get a promotion at work, lose weight, or even get your kids to clean their bedrooms when their junk drifts into the hallway. And if that doesn't work, there's always yelling!

It would be nice if getting published was as easy as making kids pick up their messes. Selling a book basically comes down to part stubbornness, part learning craft, and part finding the right story to hook an editor.

It took me seventeen years, many unsold manuscripts, and a fabulous agent to sell my little courtesan matchmaker book to Berkley. And mine wasn't an easy road to publication. I have a file stuffed with tear-stained rejection letters to show for those unpublished years. If that isn't persistence, I don't know what is! But those letters also let me know I was on track as I studied craft and learned stuff like not starting a book from a horse's POV (who knew?).

Those first letters began as "Dear Author" photo-copied form letters (with my first book) and slowly morphed (with subsequent manuscripts) into "Dear Ms. Smith, thanks but no thanks…" to "Dear Cheryl Smith, I love your voice but the story just isn't quite what we're looking for. Please consider me with future projects…."

I've been rejected by the best! But persistence kept me slogging forward when I thought a job as French-fry girl at McDonalds might be my future. Well, persistence and the overwhelming drive to write stuff. Every time I thought I'd quit writing and get a 'real job', a fun storyline would pop into my head and I'd be off to the races again!

So, yes, persistence is a key part of getting published. Mix that with a strong spine and the willingness to take the hard lumps with the good stuff in order to succeed. It will be worth it in the end!

If you'd like to learn more about Cheryl and her books, you can visit her at: www.cherylannsmith.com or Facebook.

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Yesterday's winner, by random number generator, is…Wendy! Congratulations, Wendy, and be sure to send me an email with your mailing address so I can get your package in the mail!

One Day Only Contest!

Answer the question and qualify for the drawing for this pretty Christmas tree ornament! It's handmade and signed. I thought it was adorable, and I have some other ornaments I picked up from my favorite curio shop that I'll share over the next month.

Answer this question:

What song would you sing at karaoke?

Guest Blogger: C.J. Ellisson

Dead and Bored?

(Posted originally in the secret Undead Weekly ezine)

Have you done it all, seen it all, and nothing moves you? Perhaps you've been living your excellent undead existence day in and day out for a few hundred years now and the pressure to blend in to society is getting to you.

We have exactly what you need! A luxury resort set in the remote wilds of Alaksa. It's the deepest part of winter when we're open, so there's no worry about exposing yourself to any pesky sunshine.

Come, relax, bring your bonded mate or loving companions to join you. We're a full service establishment and can cater to the needs of the living as well as meet your every dark decadent desire. Care to journey back to your time as a sultan? Or do you miss those English schoolroom days with the strict teacher and her trusty paddle?

Our theme rooms, including two wildly popular slate-tiled dungeons, will certainly call to your inner beast. Want to swim or impress your seethe-mates with your vacation tan? No worries! We've got an entire pool wing decorated like a tropical island and the spray tan is free.

If outside sports are more your thing we've got skiing, tubing, and lots of winding paths illuminated by twinkling lights. Shed your civilized mask and take a blood bath in the Roman suite, 'stalk' live prey from willing donors (rules apply), or visit our orgy room with some close friends you'd like to get even closer to.

We promise, your vampire vacation at the V V Inn will be like no other trip you've had in decades! Have a shifter lover? No problem, we don't charge extra for shedding clean up. Prefer to dance the night away or relax in an Irish pub? We've got you covered.

If you're idea of a good time is more along the lines of reading collector edition books, a game of whisk, or drinking shots of an ancient vampire's blood from a warmed snifter, then our English gentleman's lounge may be just the spot for you.

Rafe and I will be your hosts for the week. We'll make sure your every fantasy comes to life right before your very eyes. Be sure to call and book soon—we're filling up fast and our Holiday ball only has a few spots left.

Inn Proprietors: Vivian and Rafe McAndrews

1-800-Dark-Fun

The V V Inn, Deadfoot, Alaska

(please call for plane coordinates)

~~ C.J. Ellisson ~~

Guest Speaker at Vamps at Sea – a Vampire Themed Cruise to Alaska

6.23.2012

Facebook * Website * Everything Erotic * Digital Digest

COWBOY LUST is a go!

Yesterday's winner of a free download of SILENT KNIGHT is named

at the bottom of this post! ~DD

* * * * *

I'm extremely excited to announce that The Cowboy, now Cowboy Lust, is a go!

And just to give you a hint about what you'll find inside this volume, this is what I said in the introduction of the book.

There's a reason Western romance stories never go out of fashion. The cowboy is an iconic figure that embodies the dichotomy of the fiercely independent, earthy alpha male while being a nurturing protector. Given a picture of a man on a horse, wearing Wranglers, chaps, and with a broad-rimmed hat shadowing his face, women melt. I melt—and admittedly, I'm a pretty jaded reader, but I'm still the reader who craves the romantic idea of that gruff, capable man.

Even when he's up to his knees in mud freeing a calf from a wallow, his image doesn't tarnish. The imagination sparks, filling in the details—the scent of horse, cow, and crisp, clean sweat; the sight of sun-leathered skin and crow's feet; the feel of work-hardened thighs and arms; and the sound of a deep-voiced, Texas drawl.

Maybe my abiding affection for Western romances is grounded in the nine years I lived in the heart of the Texas Hill Country with a working ranch nestled up against my backyard fence. Cowboys in Wranglers, wearing straw hats and boots was a common sight. The slower pace of life there was a soothing balm after life in a corporate cubicle. The romance of the place—despite the dust, tarantulas, scorpions and snakes—enthralled me. Still does.

So when I put out the word I was looking for "cowboy" stories, I had high expectations. The writers delivered!

From Cari Quinn's Riding Double, which has a wicked twist, to the last story, Anna Meadow's haunting She Don't Stay the Night, you'll travel a breadth of distinct voices, settings, and themes.

Veteran erotica writer, Cheyenne Blue, will take you to the Australian Outback for riveting tale with a heroine on the run for her life. Michael Bracken tells a quieter, simpler tale of a cowboy and a school teacher in Drought that's no less compelling.

There's a female rodeo star determined to win back her buckle and her confidence in M. Marie's Rough Stock, a gun-toting girlfriend set on firing up the hussy who laid hands on her man in Lissa Matthews' Small Town Famous, and a gunslinging couple in the Wild West seeking revenge in Raney's Last Ride.

Bored, yet? I dare you to give this collection a try. You'll find humor, heart-melting romance, and sweet, as well as rough lovin', in these here pages. Saddle up, y'all!

This is your lineup of authors and their stories:

Cari Quinn—Riding Double

Cheyenne Blue—Under the Southern Cross

Randi Alexander—Banging the Cowboy

Cat Johnson—Ladies Love Country Boys

Michael Bracken—Drought

Charlene Teglia—Roped

M. Marie—Rough Stock

Sedona Fox—The Ranch Hand

Lissa Matthews—Small Town Famous

Tahira Iqbal—The Storm

Nena Clements—Caught Unawares

Kimber Vale—Some Like It Dirty

Chaparrita—Raney's Last Ride

Delilah Devlin—Runaway Bride

Anna Meadows—She Don't Stay The Night

Congratulations, authors! Readers, sorry to say, you'll have to wait until Fall 2012 to find this book!

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Yesterday's winner is…Ebony Morton! Congratulations, and email me!

Snippet Saturday: Holiday

Enjoy an excerpt from my one and only Christmas story! Post a comment and enter a drawing for a free download of Silent Knight!

"…The perfect holiday read! Delilah Devlin took a Christmas tale to a whole new level when she crafted SILENT KNIGHT."

5 Stars, Heather, eCataRomance

"…[SILENT KNIGHT] is a sizzling hot vampire story tht will take you on a short escape — the perfect read for a busy holiday season. Sexy and fun, make sure Silent Knight is on your holiday "must read" list!"

4 Kisses, Karen Steele, Romance Divas

"Erotically decedent and thrillingly carnal, Noelle and Magnus' story is enough to make a person self-combust with want."

4 Roses, Angel, A Romance Review

In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Noelle Moyaux questions her gift of sight until a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger sets her on a path to save his soul.

Magnus Thornton is a millennium-old vampire who has found evidence of an old foe's evil at work in the demolished city of New Orleans . Weary of the fight, he decides to greet the coming dawn after a night reveling in his favorite things–a bottle of Bordeaux and a willing woman.

Noelle seems the answer, but she quickly creeps into his heart-the vampire, so jaded from life he never speaks, must now persuade Noelle to flee the city before it's too late.

Noelle Moyaux flicked off the battery-powered Christmas lights that ringed her metal cart, folded her purple tablecloth into a small tidy square and tucked it and the folding table inside the cart before latching the lid closed.

She wheeled the cart across the busy street and waved to her friend Gerard, the owner of a small Cajun restaurant. Continuing around the back of the eatery, she stowed her palmistry kiosk in the storage unit she'd rented from Gerard since before the troubles.

Today's earnings were slim, despite the unseasonably warm weather that allowed the thin-blooded residents of the city to roam the streets in light jackets. No one believed in a future amid the chaos–and some questioned her ability since she'd received no divination of the coming catastrophe. Indeed, Noelle questioned her gift daily as she sat beneath her umbrella in front of the embroidered cloth advertising "Noelle's News".

If not for the little nest egg of money she'd saved from substitute teaching before the flood, she'd be in dire straits.

Clutching her purse close to her side, she headed down the street toward home.

One last night. One last chance to lose myself in The Hunger, a fine glass of wine and the body of a willing woman. Before my last sunrise—the first I will see in nearly a thousand years…



Noelle heard the quiet, fleeting thought as she passed through the crowd ambling along Bourbon Street and spun to find the owner. The inner voice that accompanied the thought was masculine and raspy. Added to the familiar spark of connection when her skin had brushed against his was a wash of the blackest melancholy she'd ever sensed. It nearly drowned her in despair.

But whose? No one stood out among the evening crowd of construction workers, disaster-junkies and uprooted residents looking for diversion from the daily serving of desolation New Orleans had become. Was he an out-of-town contractor lonely for his home and family during the holiday? Or a N'awlins native who'd lost his friends and community to the terrible storm with the pretty name?

Whichever, she had to find him. She'd spent months second-guessing her place in the world, wondering if her gift served a higher purpose or just provided a distraction from true contribution. This brief glimpse into another's pain seemed the answer she'd been seeking.

Filled with a renewed sense of purpose, she reminded herself God didn't give away special gifts without expecting extraordinary sacrifice. The man was clearly demented. He believed himself a thousand years old. And he meant to end his life– with a sunrise?

Perhaps he only felt a thousand years old, so great was his sadness. And maybe she hadn't understood the flash-burn of light and the acrid scent of singed flesh that accompanied the dour thoughts. But if someone intended to blow himself up or set himself ablaze, it was up to her to save him. He'd touched her. Now his fate belonged to her.

She walked back the way she'd come, letting her hand drift out from her side, skimming the tourists and garbage collectors, finding nothing darker than desire for the buzz of alcohol and a quick, illicit screw. Then she touched him again and instantly recognized his painful soul.

She paused, suddenly overwhelmed. Dark, erotic pictures blurring like an out-of-focus film spooled through her mind–limbs sliding sinuously apart and together, lips and fingers gliding over sweat-slick skin, powerful, full-shaft surges into warmth so tight and hot Noelle's nipples beaded in response to the lustful images.

A finger trailed down her cheek, taking away her breath, and she blinked back into focus. He stood close. Large, black Spanish boots, polished so well they reflected lamp glow, were braced apart.

Afraid to look up, she swallowed, tempted to continue past and forget all about trying to save his soul from a terrible sin.

Then he lifted her chin, dragging up her face until their gazes clashed.

Amid the bustle, called greetings and the jazz blaring from several bars, a blanket of quiet fell around her, around him, as she stared at his stark, rugged beauty. She blinked, unable to hold his steady blue gaze and instead, let hers drift over him.

Lamplight reflected against curling brown hair with glints of gold interwoven in the shoulder-length strands. His height and the breadth of his shoulders made her wonder how she'd ever missed him in the crowd. Clad in black from head to boot, he must have seemed like one big shadow. A square jaw and blunt nose emphasized the strength evident in his frame.

But those blue eyes disturbed her most. Bleak, wintery blue that pierced the space between them, drawing her closer like a fishing reel–only she was the trembling catch.

When she stood so close his breath stirred her hair, she drew a shaky breath.

His gaze dipped to her mouth, and Noelle felt the heat of his glance lick a searing path across her lips. She touched them with her tongue, half expecting to feel blisters.

His eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, and his hand slipped around her wrist.

You'll do.

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

Lauren Dane

Anne Rainey

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Selena Blake

Taige Crenshaw

TJ Michaels

Vivian Arend

HelenKay Dimon

Lacey Savage