Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 513

Guest Blogger: Cerise Deland

PANTY RAID

What's in your panty drawer?

Anything new? Daring? Yummy? Edible? (Hmm, yes, panties are now eco-friendly, and one brand even says, EAT ME!)

I adore great lingerie.

Today, I wanted to share with you a peek at where my research has sent me for a new series, titled KNIGHTS IN BLACK LEATHER for EC.

My heroine, Cara Ford, is about to open a new shop in a tiny Texas town where the men are good and plenty~and the women wear only smiles. Cara wants to spice up the sedate little clothing store on Main Street where her auntie has presided over the women's fashion for more than fifty years. Auntie Bree has a few outdated ideas about what the females in this town should have.

Cara Ford has a few modern ones!

Here, so that you can "shop" with Cara (and empty your wallet!) are a few of the great websites and blogs:

http://www.kikidm.com/shop/Instruments-of-Pleasure/

http://www.tangafinelingerie.com

http://www.lingerie-paris.com/

http://www.funfactory.com/ sex toys–fingerballs/smartballs

I started buying great (let that read, daring and expensive) lingerie more than 10 years ago. It goes a long way to interest your lover!

Some of these are very pricey~into the thousands! And you can see why.

But nothing says luvin' like something from a French shop or two.

What's in your closet? Got any item that your significant other just drools over?

Tell us!

Snippet Saturday: Sexy

Some books just about write themselves. That's what happened with me when I began Darkness Captured. I knew exactly where the story started—exactly where Darkness Burning ended. I knew that my fierce werewolf princess would be tempted by a dragon while being pursued by her loyal werewolf bodyguard. I wasn't exactly sure who would win her in the end, although I had a real fondness for Guntram from the very beginning. What could be sexier than a man who sacrifices so much, even his own desires, for the woman he loves? Here's Guntram when he finally has Gabriella exactly where he's wanted her for centuries. Too bad they're in a pleasure dungeon deep in The Land of the Dead.

"Delilah Devlin delivers an erotic tale of good and evil elevated to a higher level… The erotic scenes in this book are hotter than Hades and ten times more tempting. I dare you to resist!"

5 Cups, Coffee Time Romance

"Darkness Captured is…another steamy sensation!… Delilah Devlin is definitely the mistress of erotic romance!"

Reader to Reader Reviews

"Another hot read of dark sensuality, riveting situations and jaw-dropping desire."

Fresh Pick!, Fresh Fiction

"Devlin creates memorable characters with exceptional emotional depth. Her magical worldbuilding sets as atmospheric scene for a fast-paced story. The sexual tension runs high and the encounters are smokin' hot."

4 Stars, RT Book Reviews

Driven by insatiable desire, a werewolf will enter hell to rescue a princess captured by the Master of Demons…

Headstrong and proud—a royal creature of sinuous grace, all primal instinct and lethal beauty—the shapeshifter Gabriella has agreed to serve as emissary to the vampires who rule in the shadows of the New Orleans night. But she cannot resist the pull of the demon she glimpses on the other side of a mirror, and she is drawn to him hungrily, through a magical portal into the Land of the Dead. Now an eternal nightmare awaits Gabriella at the hands of a mesmerizing dark lord who satisfies her every erotic need…while slowly devouring her soul.

The powerful warrior wolf Guntram Brandt is responsible for the safety of the vanished princess he swore allegiance to years before. Yet it is more than a soldier's loyalty that pulls Guntram down into the depths of nightmare—for Gabriella ignites within him a burning animal passion that must be satisfied.

But when offered an escape, will she follow her rescuer to safety—torn between her lustful obsession with the dark lord who has enslaved her and her fierce sensual attraction to the only wolf who could ever master her?

"May I serve you, mistress?" the man standing in the darkness said softly.

She looked behind her down the long dark corridor, assuring herself that she hadn't been followed. "I…I think so. Yes."

He stepped from the shadows, and Gabriella's gaze swept over him. Her lust renewed instantly. His human form pleased her. Bare-chested, thick brown fur covering his chest, he appeared so like Guntram she nearly cried. She wondered what horror the mask hid, but decided she didn't really want to know. Maybe he was handsome—one of the undead humans, just playing The Executioner role for entertainment purposes.

His scent was unusual. Beneath a light floral lay an earthier aroma, pleasing to her nose. She stepped inside the cell and slid the barred door closed behind her. "What do you offer?"

"Any fantasy you desire," he said, his voice deep and gruff.



She shivered at his tone, her nipples prickling to attention. Light didn't penetrate the deep, hollow shadows of the mask. She couldn't tell where his glance roamed, and she wondered if she pleased him half as much.

"Would you prefer I take you?" he said, slowly, still rooted to the spot. "Will you submit to me?"

"I think I'd like to be surprised," she replied, surprised her voice sounded so breathy.

"Will you allow me to bind you?" he said, his voice less hesitant, less submissive than before.

Excited by her own powerful response to just his voice, she gave him a flirtatious glance, peering up at him from beneath her lashes. "I'll allow it, so long as you promise not to eat me while I'm helpless."

"Why limit our pleasure?"

Gabriella's lips twitched. "I belong to Marduk. So long as I walk out of here unharmed, you can do pretty much what you like."

"Marduk, The Master of the Demons. Do you enjoy his bed?"

Something in is voice, a simmering disapproval, made her uncomfortable. "I…do what I must."

His head ducked, acknowledging the ambiguity of her reply.

Gabriella found herself enjoying this encounter, enjoying the sight of the man who drew nearer now. When he lifted his hand, his palm turned upward, she didn't hesitate as she had the first time Marduk demanded.

This man's hand was calloused, his palm so large it engulfed hers. He drew her closer, his nostrils flaring. Had he caught the tell-tale scent of her heat? Would he know what it meant?

"Will he come looking for you anytime soon?" he asked, urgency making his words clipped.

"He's occupied at the moment."

"Then we're alone."

The cage door wasn't solid, but somehow the acoustics of the small chamber softened the sounds from beyond its confines, enhancing the feeling that indeed they really were alone.

He pulled her close enough that the baubles attached to her nipples tangled in his chest hair. The slight tug caused the sensitized tips to swell. She moved closer. "Are you expecting anyone else?"

"I've been waiting for you. I chased off the last demon who tried to enter my cell."

"And they allowed it?"

His lips twitched. "I think I frightened him. I might have mentioned a preference for roasted balls."

Gabriella tossed back her hair, enjoying the humor he revealed beneath his fearsome mask. "And do you?"

"The only thing I wish to warm is you," he said quietly.

Gabriella licked her lips, tilting back her head. "With flame…or friction?"

"Do you have a preference?"

"You're teasing me now."

"But you aren't sure."

"Even when things seem similar to what I'm accustomed to…I sometimes find myself surprised here."

"Caution is wise."

"Then we should hurry. Marduk is busy at the moment. Why waste another minute?" When he still didn't bust a move, she lifted her hand to cup the curve of his masculine breast. Muscle flexed beneath her palm. "However you want me. I'm yours."

His square jaw tightened, and he nodded toward the bench behind her. "Bend over it. I will ease the tension riding you. Then we'll play."

She didn't ask how he knew. Perhaps all of them knew instinctually. Usually, back in her own world, only wolves sensed her heat. But right now, holding a thought, following a suspicion was beyond her. A heady, powerful swell of arousal held her in its grip. It might have had something to do with the cock encased in his dark trousers and pressing against her belly, which was quickly filling, its size pleasing—not as disgustingly large as the bull-man's, but exactly proportioned for her enjoyment.

Giving him a challenging tilt of her chin, she tugged her hand from his tight grip and stepped away. Then she turned and climbed onto the platform, settling her knees on a padded step and her belly on the platform, the edge of which ended just beneath her breasts. The position made her feel immediately vulnerable, completely feminine. Her ass was presented in exactly the pose a she-wolf might provide her mate for his inspection.

A deep, slow intake of breath was the only reaction she could discern from the man in the mask. He walked behind the bench and silently urged her to widen her stance, pressing against her knees until he was satisfied. Then he walked to one side and lifted her hand and closed leather straps around her wrist, repeating the action for her other hand.

Gabriella felt no alarm, no fear. Although he remained silent, his methodical approach was reassuring. That was, until he made another slow circle around her, and she sensed his body tautening. His head was held lower, his nostrils flaring like wolf might to draw in scent and stoke his own desire.

Again, she thought his actions, his demeanor was so like Guntram, or what she would imagine he would be like when deeply aroused, that her body shivered with excitement, waiting to see what he would do next.

He surprised her with fingers sifting soothingly through her hair. She released a little sigh, pressing into his hands until he scratched her scalp, petting her tenderly, like a wolf might do for his mate.

Then he lifted her hair and twisted it, dropping the long rope over her shoulder. His hands smoothed slowly down her back and over her buttocks. Standing now directly behind her, she knew what he'd see in the torchlight. Her sex was swollen, red, dripping with honeyed arousal; the inner lips parting, her entrance pulsing, sucking at air.

A low growl erupted from him, and then lips glided over her labia. "Princess, are you ready to be mine?"

Gabriella froze. "Guntram?" she asked, her voice thickening with emotion, but then she realized what he'd said. She jerked against her restraints. Joy and outrage mixing an explosive cocktail. "Guntram! Release me!"

A soft masculine snort sounded behind her. "Alex said that I should ignore your pleas. Take my cues instead from your body. I smell your heat, Princess. Even now, your sweet cunt swells and drips honey, begging my cock to fill you."

Straining her head upward, she tried glancing over her shoulder to give him a glare, but couldn't quite turn that far. She rattled the bench with her furious bucking. "You know this can never be. I will never surrender my mantle to a male."

"And you shall never have to," he said, his words clipped. "I intend to take it."

Gabriella shivered at the hard edge of his voice, cursing her own body for the heat that radiated from her womb, tightening her belly and sending rippling shudders down her channel. "Have you come to rescue me?" she said, hoping to turn his mind to the bigger problem.

"Simon and I are working on that. We must retrieve something now that we know where you are."

"I'm watched."

"Also working on that. Let's talk afterward." His rough palms slid down her back, pausing to cup her bottom, then dropping his hands from her skin.

There was a rustling behind her and the sounds of indrawn breaths. And she knew he was pulling in her scent, letting it enhance his own arousal.

When his lips and nose sank into her folds, she jerked. "Stop it. I don't know what you think you're doing, but you have to remember whom you serve."

"I could never forget. I've protected you, stood guard over you, prevented other males from forcing their suits on you. For too long. Did you think I was made of stone?"

His tongue stroked over her folds, and Gabriella's breath hissed between her teeth. She clamped her jaws shut, knowing soon she'd be begging out loud if she couldn't figure out a way to put a stop to this. "Why now, Guntram? Why press your suit in this place? Would you really mate with me in the midst of all this evil?"

"I have no choice. I'm as bound by my duty as you are to this bench."

"Is that what I am? A duty? Is this only your way of protecting me? Because I'm not seeing it. When you're done I still have to leave with him. I'll still be in his bed, servicing his desires."

"Don't talk about him now," he growled. "We haven't much time, and I have to finish this for both our sakes."

"If you make me pregnant and fail to get me out of here, do you really want your cubs born here?"

"That will never happen. I'd die first."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

Again, his tongue stroked over her, slipping between her labia, prodding her entrance and driving inward to lap at her honey-coated walls.

She squirmed on the bench, fisting her hands and pulling at her ties, but to no avail. She was at his mercy. Just as he'd intended. The thought that Guntram had planned this, excited her. That he wouldn't listen to her pleas confused her—but also made her perversely glad.

"Do you know how many times I've stood in the darkness, watching you—smelling your arousal, knowing your pussy melted around another man's cock while I forced myself to remain unaffected? Hundreds of years, I've waited for just one chance to be with you. If I'm to die here, don't you think you owe me this?"

The tightness of his gruff voice affected her like no other ever had. She'd yearned for him to come. To save her. Had she also, secretly, wanted to surrender to him, her protector, her personal guardian?

She'd always known he'd watched, and the knowledge had spurred her arousal each and every time. Had she been teasing him, hoping to make him break?

As much as she wanted to bend to no man, she wanted to surrender to Guntram—here. Now. Wanted to feel his cock stroke deeply and lock inside her, nestling against her womb while his seed poured into her. She'd never experienced that before, the true connection with another of her own kind, her species. She'd denied herself the joy of children in order to maintain her status—but also because she'd been afraid to trust a mate to see to her happiness, to listen to and heed her opinions. Mated females held power in their own right, but only within their pack, and only over each other.

"Guntram, you don't know why I've resisted this. I have reasons for remaining alone."

"And I'm sure they're good ones," he said, a finger trailing along the edges of her sex. "But this is me, Gabriella. You should know by now, I would never hurt you beyond the pain you desire. You've earned respect in your own right among our kind. Do you really think that will disappear once you're belly's full and your breasts are nurturing pups?"

A soft sob caught her unaware. The picture that filled her mind was of golden sunlight in a copse, her in wolfskin, cubs suckling her breasts while Guntram kept watch. A sublime image, empty of all her fears.

Even now, tethered to this bench, knowing he would take her whether she gave him the words to grant him that right or not, didn't feel in the least like that other time that haunted her nightmares.

Guntram had indeed earned the right to her body, to her future. He'd earned her trust. But did he love her? She didn't think she could bear to mate herself to him if he felt compelled only by duty.

But she was woman as well as a wolf. And she knew a woman could wield power over the strongest man by her wits and femininity. If he didn't love her now, she would find the key to his heart.

"You know I won't say it," she said, her voice wavering.

"Say what, princess?"

"That I surrender."

"I'd be disappointed in you if you did."

She almost smiled at the wry note in his tone. "Know this, if I were free, I'd give you a fight you'd never forget."

* * * * *

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

Shelli Stevens

Lacey Savage

Selena Robins

Guest Blogger: Sharon Hamilton

Psst! Remember, the "I'll Change My Name to Wendy or Tammy" Contest and Promo Ho Contest continue! Click here for details—and be sure to post a comment! ~DD

* * * * *
WHAT'S IN A NAME?

I had a brainstorm of an idea about writing some erotic shorts about sex toys, and vibrators, in particular. Here comes the confession: I'd never used one until about a year ago. Okay, I've said it. I feel better.

I read a blurb on someone else's blog about a Rabbit, and I didn't know what it was. So I emailed the author off-loop and she told me. Embarrassed initially, I started to get curious and Googled the Rabbit and it provided me a link to several sites. I picked one, and voila!

There were colorful vibrators of every size and shape. I mean, it looked more like the advertisement for Jelly Belly there was so much pink and blue and purple latex "shimmering" like gummy worms of a different sort.

I noticed a little chat box in the upper left corner of the site and clicked on customer service online. I got connected to a nice lady who answered several of my questions—things I had never told a living soul before, including my husband. She made a recommendation, and I bought it.

What happened when I received the product is another story for another time. Needless to say, it has become a happy companion of mine, and my husband, something I never expected.

So I decided I would write a story about ordering from an online catalog, like I did, and used the chat/customer service help as one of the key ingredients. Except the outcome was vastly different from my experience.

And I decided to call it The Stimulus Package.

I have never promoted this book much, and used my erotic pen name, Angela Love, instead of my real name. With all the blogging I have done on guest sites for my Heavenly Lover, the Angel book, this short has sold three times more than anything else I have written without any promotion. And here's why.

Timing.

I get to hear the title of my book every night on the news. Hear some pretty important people using that term every day. It tickles me to death.

I kept to my theme, and wrote Buzz Words about a voice-activated vibrator. And then Road Rage, which was based on a partially true story told to me over breakfast at a women's retreat. And yes, we were all spitting out our eggs and OJ.

After all, girls just want to have fun.

Hope you enjoy the excerpt. Heed the warning!

* * * * *

Content Advisory: Explicit M/F sex scene, frank language. Do not try this online.

Candy wanted to stop her fingers from hitting the hot pink button that read, "Live Support" on the Garden of Delights Sex Toys website, but they had a life of their own. They lurched forward, and the familiar help screen popped up.

She'd been here two or three times before. Kate was the customer service rep she chatted with online, someone she liked and trusted, and who asked her all the questions she didn't know to ask: How dry are you? Do you like warming gels? Do you like clitoral stimulation, or anal penetration with your sexual partners? These were all things she began to openly discuss with Kate—the only other person in the whole world who knew her most intimate secrets.

JOSH: Hi there. This is Josh. How can I help you?

She hesitated, and then typed, "Where is Kate today? Don't see her avatar on the site."

JOSH: She's off. Who am I speaking to, please?

Her fingers were frozen. "I'd like to speak to a woman, please."

JOSH: I am truly sorry. We have a wedding and several of our customer supports are out today. I would be happy to pass along your questions, or would you prefer to log in tomorrow?

Yes, that would be better. Candy looked at Josh's avatar. A cartoon character of a perfectly geeky computer nerd with large glasses. Harmless. And she did need to get her question answered and place her order quickly. She needed it for Friday night.

CUSTOMER X: No offense, Josh, but I'd feel more comfortable talking to a woman. Sorry.

JOSH: I understand completely. Well then, if I can't answer anything for you, have a good day.

He disconnected.

Candy needed the item in time for her sister's bachelorette party. And then there was that dare, that $100 bet she had with her sister. Candy logged back into the website.

JOSH: Hi there. This is Josh. How can I help you?



CUSTOMER X: This is Candy. I just talked to you.

JOSH: Oh yes, the one who wanted to speak to a woman. Can't help you there, darlin'.

Darlin'? That wasn't the kind of language a computer nerd would use. She knew this was a bad idea.

JOSH: Hello? I can see you're still logged on. Have I said something wrong?

CUSTOMER X: Sorry, the dog was barking.

What a big fat lie. She hated dogs. She owned two rescue cats.

JOSH: I understand. Dog lover. Good for you. I'm a cat lover myself.

She hesitated again. Why was she getting nervous?

CUSTOMER X: Okay, I need to ask you a very general question. I need to buy something for my sister, for her Bachelorette party. I wanted to buy her a battery-operated vibrator.

JOSH: Hon, most of them are battery-operated.

Hon?

CUSTOMER X: Okay. Well, what I want is something that operates on voice commands. My sister heard about one, I think it was called The Liberator, and the girls at her office were raving about it.

JOSH: We have several of them. Color?

CUSTOMER X: Flesh.

JOSH: Whose flesh?

CUSTOMER X: Pink.

JOSH: Size?

CUSTOMER X: What are the choices?

JOSH: You've looked at our vibrator section on the site? Would you like me to accompany you?

CUSTOMER X: How do you do that?

JOSH: We do a go to meeting thing. I can move your cursor for you, show you the options and how to search and find the one you want, show you the product reviews.

CUSTOMER X: It's for my sister.

JOSH: I can help her too. Is she there?

CUSTOMER X: No.

JOSH: Okay, then it's just you and I.

Candy hesitated again. What am I doing?

* * * * *

Thanks for having me, Delilah. Tell me, have any of you used an online chat representative when ordering from a sex toys catalog? I'd love to hear it!

Sharon Hamilton

Life is one fool thing after another.

Love is two fool things after each other.

http://sharonhamiltonauthor.blogspot.com

http://www.sharonhamiltonauthor.com

***** Heavenly Lover ***** On Sale Now (Amazon/B&N)

Guest Blogger: Mahalia Levey

Addiction can come in many forms. A domino effect can ripple and ruin an entire family. Many times there are such faint warning signs, that they are missed or masked by the addict who's filled with shame, self-loathing, and fear. This loved one will go to any length to perfect a façade of nothing being wrong. And there are times when the person who's failing to succeed has no idea why or has suppressed pain and trauma so deep down just the thought of dealing further compounds the situation. Almost every family has one member who has an addiction or an addictive personality. We see it all the time. No one knows until an autobiography is written or a documentary is done. The fallout is immediate, but putting back together the broken pieces is a long painstaking process that takes strength, courage and the will to live.

Whatever the addiction be it alcohol, drugs, food, sex, etc. There is always help.

The Price of Defiance is about a young woman who self-destructs by choices she makes. Her choices have a cataclysmic effect on those around her. Much like a heroine junkie, she's gets off on a rush that is created by her own body. No external drug but an internal receptor in the pleasure center of the brain gives her a high that is equivalent to a heavy street drug dosage. She's an adrenalin addict and unlike professionals her amateur and illegal hobby—her dark hunger doesn't care what gets in its path. There are no safety measures, no emergency personnel, just a bunch of young men and women in the dead of the night playing Russian roulette with their lives and those in the crowd watching them for social status and a purse full of cold hard cash. The cash is a secondary win. The major win is street credit and notoriety. She needs an intervention before death knocks at her door or manslaughter.

America Patterson loves living on the edge. Car model by day, illegal street racer by night, she's known as the best. Except underneath her flawless façade lies a young woman filled with turmoil. When her hobby lands her in hot water, she finds herself handcuffed and bailed out by the one person who'd abandoned her….

MMA Fighter Alejandro Escovedo is summoned home after a tournament that had left him sore and questioning his career. Expecting a nice welcome home, he instead finds himself rescuing his best friend's sister out of jail. This time he's had enough.

Their explosive past gives him all the rights where America is concerned, and he is more than ready to take her on. By ending her daredevil ways and finding the trigger to her self-destructive behavior, will he convince her he's back to stay or drive her further away?

Genre: Erotic romance, BDSM, contemporary

Warning—Adult Excerpt:

The shrill of her cordless phone disrupted her peace. Against her better judgment, she ducked inside to grab it and returned to her perch on the cushioned chair. "Hello. No, I'm not interested in commenting." She hung up and frowned. On impulse she dialed Jayshaun's number. "Hey…been worried 'bout you."

"Yeah?" She sighed into the phone after hearing his voice. "I found out you went to jail, and Vincent said he sent Alejandro to get you. You good?"

"I'm fine." She tipped her head back.

"You're all over the net. I can't believe you drove into a building. I almost died watching in slow mo. So how are things? Lover boy looked pissed fending off the piranha scumbags and their microphones."

"Yes, Alejandro is back, and it's complicated. Of course, he was angry—is angry. I'm not sure. He's not here right now."

"Good. Listen, there's news of another race in a few weeks. Get well so you can win the purse. It's double what you lost last race. You'll want in on this. Drivers will be using escorts and scouts via Bluetooth. No one wants a repeat of this week."

"You've got to be joking, right? I went to jail," Amy hissed quietly into the phone. "Jay, I don't even know if I have a job, or if I've lost my modeling contracts yet." Once she heard the purse price, temptation hit her. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Look, let me think and get back to you."

"Get back to who for what?" Alejandro cleared his throat to announce his presence.



America startled and dropped the house phone. "Begeezus, don't sneak up on people." She bent forward to retrieve the phone. "Yeah sorry, I'll hit you back later. Can't talk now." She hit end and stuck the phone in her pocket of her robe.

"Making deviant plans already?"

"Na-no, of course not. Nothin' important." Amy picked up her discarded cup of tea and took a sip. Damn if he didn't look edible, all sweat-drenched and glistening sinew. Not a single delectable inch of Alejandro escaped her notice.

He snorted. "If you think I believe that, you forget I know you better than you know yourself, querida."

"Really was just short talk, seeing that I lived and all."

Alejandro shrugged. "I'm off to shower, and then we'll talk." He moved to the door and entered the house without a backward glance, the slam of the storm door effectively cutting off her chance to reply.

"Ass," she mumbled and drained the rest of her tea. A shower sounded damned good, and she only had one shower in the house. A smile curled up her lips as she headed inside. She dropped the robe as she climbed up the stairs. Amy turned the doorknob, a tiny jig dancing in her head at the unlocked door. The jet spray allowed her to enter without being heard. The sight that met her eyes stole the syllables off her tongue. Water gushed from the spray nozzle, soaking Alejandro's muscle-ripped body. Each time he moved to lather up his back, muscles rippled, and water ran down in an abstract pattern, dripping in the crease of his ass and disappearing. He hadn't been this cut last time she saw him. Fighting tougher opponents or his training must've sculpted him.

"Get out, Amy."

"My bathroom, Alejandro." She removed her bandage to keep it from getting soaked and then opened the shower door and stepped in. His stormy eyes stared her down. She ran her fingers over the tick pulsating in his jaw and dropped her gaze to his thickening cock. "Go."

"Someone's happy to see me." She snaked her hand around his shaft and stroked the frenulum. He sucked in a breath, and it brought a smile to her lips. Only once, and by the looks of it, how he responded, he hadn't forgotten her touch. "I'm just here to get clean."

"Sure, big guy. The other part of you has different plans." She let go and soaped to massage him. The heater in the bathroom kept it humid enough for the water to be turned off. A wicked image filled her mind. "There is no happy ending," he warned and spread his legs to allow her access to his body.

Amy licked her bottom lip. Her body thrummed with excitement. Surely he didn't mean it. His shoulder brushed against her nipple, and she moaned. "What was that?"

"Accidental brush?" Alejandro shampooed his hair. "Hmph."

Amy bent forward and licked his nipple. Lust filled the too-tiny-for-two shower. Crammed in tight quarters and near flush against his body, she ran soapy hands over his arms, trailed them down his pectorals, and then along her own skin, making them both slippery. "Here, let me." She turned on the hand held, rising up on tiptoes to wash the shampoo from his head. "Why haven't you gotten any new tattoos yet?" She returned the attachment to the wall and pressed her body against his back. The water made her fingers glide over his slick skin. With boldness, she dropped the pretense and reached for his thick-lathered cock.

"Haven't found new ink I like." He blew out a breath. "Fuck, Amy."

"You like?" Circling around to his front, she dropped and fondled his scrotum between her thumb and forefinger.

Instead of answering her, he threaded his hand in her hair and pulled her from his cock, pressing her against the cold-tiled wall. "Damn brat."

Yes. Her body screamed in anticipation. She spread her legs and hooked one around his hip, lazily drawing her calf down his back. His delicious cock rubbed against her folds. That Alejandro fought to keep control wasn't out of the norm. She trailed nails down his chest and glided her slick skin against him. "Please?"

His mouth crashed over hers, and he pulled her into a vortex of white-hot passion. His talented tongue slid between her lips, cutting off more pleas. She mewled and rocked her mons along his dick in sync with his tongue thrusting in and dueling with hers.

"Not today." His guttural growl sent a cold splash of reality down her spine. Shocked, she watched him throw open the shower door and storm out. Yep. Anger resonated in each step he took, the way he yanked a towel from the hook and disappeared out of her sight. She washed quickly and got out. Hurt caused hot tears to leak from her eyes. Without a sound she let them fall, slathered lotion on, and yanked her brush through the tangles in her hair. A reasonable amount of time passed, and she assumed Alejandro had left.

Oh-and-two—she couldn't win for losing. He reclined on the center of her bed, holding a copy of the magazine she'd thrown at him a year previous. Worse—he stroked that glorious cock of his to a paper image of her…when she had offered her body to him just scant minutes ago.

* * * * *

Being smart and sassy with a great sense of humor comes easily for Mahalia Levey. An avid reader of books, she found herself enchanted with disappearing completely into the worlds authors created. One day she vowed to herself she'd be one of them. Then family life came, and college right after. Swayed from her childhood course of action, it took many years for her to get back to that place she held dear as a child. Now she is running full steam ahead to keep up with the many ideas flowing freely. She plans on taking her work to higher levels and expanding her genres. Her main focus is giving her readers variety. Her works in progress include paranormal, fantasy and mainstream romance. Taking characters and watching them grow past what she's imagined is her true passion.

Links

Mahalia's Website

Mahalia's Blog

Mahalia's Twitter

Guest Blogger: Dani Worth (Contest)

Why I Love Science Fiction

Many thanks to Delilah Devlin for letting me ramble on her blog today! Kithra is my debut novella with Samhain Publishing and I couldn't be more excited about working with them. I'll give away one e-copy of Kithra to a commenter.

My love for science fiction began early. I can't remember how old I was when I first saw Star Wars, but I remember the incredible excitement I felt through the whole movie. I also remember slapping up posters of Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker right next to the one I had of Shaun Cassidy. (I liked big-eyed blondes apparently. Shaun Cassidy earned my sincere admiration for other reasons when I grew up and discovered he wrote American Gothic, which was a fantastic, spooky show.)

But, I will never forget the first time I watched Alien—glued to the screen for the entire movie, thinking Ripley was the coolest heroine ever. I loved Ripley even more when Aliens came out. Terminator and Terminator 2 were huge favorites. Around that time, I discovered Star Trek, The Next Generation and I raced home daily to catch the six o'clock episodes. Other favorite shows were Bionic Woman, Wonder Woman, Stargate, Alien Nation, Farscape, Buffy, Angel, Firefly, Sliders, and of course, Doctor Who.

I find the idea of our future exciting. I wonder what the important issues will be as we continue to discover more in science and medicine. I wonder if we will conquer space travel and find other worlds with life similar to our own. I hope so. I also sincerely hope things like sexism, racism and homophobia disappear. Yeah, yeah, my idealism is showing.

When I sat down to write Kithra, I wanted to write a future world that featured alien races living along with humans, with societies where any loving relationship is the norm… and my heroine sprang to life and no matter how many times I tried to curb her language or move her into the background, she stomped forward and took over. The story started out in 3rd person and I quickly realized it could only be 1st. Once I made that decision, her story just flowed. Yeah, Lux is foul-mouthed, but she's also fiercely loyal and she has this soft, mushy center you'd think she'd try to hide, but she doesn't. As I wrote the sequel, Replicant, her mouth and her compassion showed up to take over a few scenes—even as a secondary character. I'm on the third volume in The Kithran Regenesis series, and she's showed up a few places and surprised me.

The heroes of Kithra, Kol and Egan, couldn't resist her and I hope readers feel the same way. And if you like Kithra, Replicant is scheduled for March. Thanks again to Delilah for having me!

Guest Blogger: Myla Jackson (Contest)

Voodoo Anyone?

Haven't you dreamed of owning a Voodoo doll of your boss, or competition to stick pins in and make them suffer? Or were you ever in love with someone who didn't love you and wish you had a potion to make them fall in love with you? I love to explore the possibilities Voodoo offers.

New Orleans Voodoo can find its origins in the ancient religions, rituals and beliefs of Africa and Haiti, add to it the healing arts the Native Americans, folk magic of Europe and a touch of Catholicism. People used it as a way to explain and deal with life. It has been used for good and evil, to heal and destroy.

It's a rich part of the culture of New Orleans history and many parts of the south and provides a great basis for a series of stories grounded in New Orleans and the Atchafalaya Basin.

I based two of the stories I'd written on the use of Voodoo. NIGHT OF THE JAGUAR which is part of the MOONSTRUCK anthology with my dear sister, Delilah Devlin, and please help me launch the release of THAT VOODOO YOU DO today!

THAT VOODOO YOU DO is part of a collection of stories the Allure Authors dreamed up and will ultimately package in an anthology available in print. For now the stories are sold individually in e-format under the series titled Alluring Tales: Night Moves.

Check out the other Alluring Tales anthologies available in print, one of which is on sale now for only $1.99: Alluring Tales: Awaken the Fantasy at Amazon.com!

THAT VOODOO YOU DO

Weaving the right spell…

Determined to convince a rich heiress that the land she just bought should be left undeveloped, panther shape-shifting brothers use a little Voodoo to abduct her and bring her to the swamps to woo her to their side of the bayou.

Trapped in an unfamiliar world…

Catherine Boudreaux struggles to escape before she falls victim to the bayou's allure and the magic the brothers weave over her.

Warning: Two hot panther shifters, one sassy heiress and the bayou will never be the same…

Buy at Amazon

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Buy at All Romance eBooks

That Voodoo You Do

by Myla Jackson

Catherine Boudreaux slid into the back seat of the limousine, dead tired and sick of all the push and shove of a night out in New Orleans.

James Roland, her so-called date, dropped in next to her, slobbering drunk, with hands and arms like a freakin' octopus. Even before the chauffeur closed the door, James's fingers ran over her body, slipping beneath her dress straps to pinch her breasts.

Sharp pain pierced her nipples. "James, no." She pushed him away only to have him slide back, pressing her down against the leather seat.

"Come on, baby, you know you want some of this." He rubbed hard ridge beneath his fly against her thigh, while sticking a wet, disgusting tongue into her ear.

The man worked out. He had a nice body, but he was arrogant, obsessive and annoying. Not to mention, he was stronger than she was and using that strength to his advantage.

"What part of no did you not understand?" she asked, struggling to stay ahead of his groping.

"Your lips are saying no, but your body is telling me yes."

"I don't know what translation you're using, but you've got it all wrong." She shoved both hands hard against his chest. "Let me up now, or I'll have to get violent."



"Yeah, baby, I love it when you talk tough." His fingers squeezed harder on her nipple and his tongue dug deeper into her ear.

Her body stiffened. Catherine only wanted to go home and sleep off a migraine quickly growing in proportion to the amount of gymnastics she performed to evade James.

"Come on, let's do it here." James ground his pelvis against hers, his head descending to claim her lips.

Catherine turned her face from his kiss, his wet lips sliming her cheek. "I'm not in the mood."

"Come on, don't you want to celebrate your purchase?"

"I'll celebrate in a bubble bath." Which sounded sadly more interesting than James.

His hands slithered down her body, cupping her pussy through the thin fabric of her dress. "That sounds like fun."

"Alone." Catherine slapped away his hand.

"You worked hard to acquire that tract of swamp land, imagine all the oil you can pump out of it." He shivered. "I get chills just thinking of all that money you'll add to your family fortune."

"Yeah. So what's that got to do with pawing me?" She planted a palm against his forehead and leveraged away his face.

"You and me, we're made for each other. I can help you invest all that lovely cash in the stock market. You'll be even richer."

Invest? Catherine went still beneath James. "Is that why you asked me out? You want to manage my money?"

"Hell, yeah." He planted a slobbery kiss against her chin, reeking of scotch. "Who wouldn't want to?"

Catherine sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Why did she think this would be any different? James was handsome, well-built and…just like every other man she'd met since she'd inherited her grandfather's billions. They all wanted only one part of her—the part that included her bank account.

She fumbled for the intercom button on the door and jabbed it.

James shoved a hand into the slit of her skirt, his fingers hooking the elastic of her panties, ripping them over her hips.

The window behind the driver's seat slid downward. "Yes, Miss Boudreaux?"

"Stop the car," she demanded, straining against James's weight.

"Hey, shut the damned window," James shouted, flinging his shoe at the driver. "We're about to do some serious fucking."

"Like hell we are." Catherine brought up her knee sharply between James's legs, hitting his sweet spot with as much force as she could leverage. "Just in case you didn't get the message, I said no."

James screamed like a girl and fell over onto the floor, clutching his crotch.

In the middle of New Orleans traffic, the vehicle screeched to a halt. The chauffeur, dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt, black tie and mirrored sunglasses, opened the back door.

Catherine sat up quickly, straightening her dress to cover her naked breasts. "Etienne, please escort this gentleman to the curb."

"Etienne had a family emergency and wasn't able to perform the remainder of his driving duties tonight," the chauffeur announced. "I'm his replacement, Lucien."

"Whatever," Catherine waved a hand. "Get this man out of here."

With a groan, James grabbed for her calf. "Catherine, don't play hard to get. I was only teasing."

"Get out, James." She kicked at his hand, her high heel connecting with the man's cheekbone, leaving a long, jagged scratch.

James grabbed his face. "Bitch." When he reached for her again, Lucien yanked the offensive man by his feet, dragging him from the limousine and onto the sidewalk. Once James was outside the vehicle, the chauffeur assisted the man to his feet, and dusted him off, with a great deal of civility, even retrieving the shoe James had flung.

Then Lucien closed the car door.

Catherine punched the lock button as James lunged for the door handle. He yanked on it and then pounded both fists against the window. "Catherine Boudreaux, you'll pay for this!"

She leaned back against the seat, rubbing her fingers over her sore nipples, feeling like she'd already paid for it. Her hand fell to her side landing on a soft fabric pouch. Had it fallen out of James's pocket? Catherine switched on a reading light and studied the object. If she wasn't mistaken, this was a gris gris pouch, the kind the Voodoo shops sold by the thousands to gullible tourists.

What was James doing with it? Trying to weave a little love spell?

Catherine snorted. Not happening. She rolled down the window, about to throw the pouch at James.

Before the window slid down, the limo pulled out into traffic. "Are you all right, Miss Boudreaux?" Lucien called through the open dividing glass.

She stared into the rearview mirror, expecting the mirrored sunglasses, instead she fell into the driver's deep gold eyes reflecting back at her. He had black hair and equally black brows, his skin swarthy and tanned.

Yum. Something primal stirred deep in Catherine's body.

"Where to, ma'am?"

With the gris gris clenched in her hand, her head pounding as if natives beat tom toms in rhythm with her pulse, Catherine's eyes blurred and she dragged her gaze from the handsome driver. Her head fell back against the seat. "I don't care…take me away."

"Anywhere in particular?" he asked.

"An island out in the middle of nowhere." She closed her eyes, willing the pain to ease from her temples. "Someplace where people like that creep James can't find me would be nice."

"I know just the spot," the chauffeur murmured.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stay tuned for these other exciting Alluring Tales: Night Moves

November 8th

Myla Jackson

THAT VOODO YOU DO

Using Voodoo and passionate persuasion, panther shape-shifting brothers woo an abducted heiress over to their side of the bayou.

November 15th

Cathryn Fox

WAVES OF SEDUCTION

When a mermaid saves a drowning man she unleashes a tidal wave of passion that could destroy her very world.

November 22nd

Vivi Anna

ENTANGLED IN DARKNESS

Returning home after a tragedy, a woman finds herself entangled in a century's old murder mystery, and caught between two physically and emotionally different men who may have been involved.

November 29th

Sylvia Day

BLACK MAGIC WOMAN

Can a darkly sensual warlock make the switch when his beloved familiar finds her dominant nature awakened by the lure of black magic…?

December 6th

Sasha White

HIGHLAND HEAT

A Highlander who was trapped for centuries enjoys the carnal freedoms of the modern world when he finds the reincarnation of his soul-mate…and her husband.

December 13th

Lisa Renee Jones

WICKED WEREWOLF NIGHT

A witch after his secrets. A werewolf after her pleasure.

December 20th

Delilah Devlin

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?

To learn more about the Allure Authors please visit http://www.allureauthors.com

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In honor of the release of THAT VOODOO YOU DO I'm giving away a box of books by:

Sherrilyn Kenyon

Joss Ware (signed)

Linda Wisdom

Madeline Hunter

Leave a review on Amazon or Barnes and Nobles and send me a link where you left the review and I'll enter you in the drawing. I'll draw a winner and post it to my website contest page on November 30th to give everyone a chance to enter.

Thanks for helping me launch

Myla

A Question… (New Contest!)

The winner of the Autographed Book Contest is named at the bottom of this post!

I have three things to talk about today. Bear with me—you might like something I have to say.

* * * * *

The "I'll Change My Name to Wendy or Tammy" Contest

First, I am starting a new contest today, and it will end next Tuesday, November 15th! There will be more than one winner—but only if you are willing to be Wendy or Tammy for a day. Scratching your head? I have this stack of autographed books that I made out to the wrong person. It has grown to four. There's a copy of Girls Who Bite, Veiled Alliance, Un, Deux, Trois, Ménage!, and Darkness Captured. So I will give away four books to four people—if those four are willing to be Tammy or Wendy (the names I put in those books by accident!) for a day! Okay, so I'll scratch through those ladies' names and add yours, before I send, but it's more fun the way I put it. Or maybe just more confusing. Anyway, I will be rid of the stack, and four lucky people will have a signed book!

What do you have to do to win one of these four books?

Post a comment—here or on my Facebook page.

And remember, the Promo Ho Contest is ongoing! Check the Contest page for details!

* * * * *

While I'm Away…

This week I've given over control of my blog to a great list of guests! On Thursday, I'll be heading to Altus, Oklahoma where my sister, Elle James/Myla Jackson, and I will be conducting a workshop for writers. Friday night is a booksigning, so if you're in the area and want to know how you can meet us, just drop me a line! Anyway, I have guests lined up starting tomorrow. Take a look at the lineup!

Tuesday — Myla Jackson

Wednesday — Dani Worth

Thursday — Mahalia Levey

Friday — Sharon Hamilton

Saturday — Me, with a Saturday Snippet

Sunday — Cerise Deland

Monday — Jasmine Haynes

* * * * *

The Question…

If you were on an African safari, what would you absolutely

have to see for the trip to be complete?

The winner of the Autographed Book Contest is…Ilona! Ilona, congrats! Send me an email to arrange delivery of your prize!

Sunday Report Card

The week started off gangbusters. I wrote a short story in a day, then I went back to work on the Western that's very, very late to Samhain. I already have a release date—January 31st—so I really do have to get that one finished very shortly. I also began work on the novella for the new Alluring Tales effort. It's got a dragon, a knight, and a virgin. Yum!

The week started well, but by Thursday, I was covered up with family things. We've added to the household in the past few months. I'm sandwiched by elderly and very young people, and although I'm usually terrific at tuning it all out, it's been kind of impossible to do that lately. Can I say that I never really knew my family was certifiably insane? Yup, a big ole blue streak of schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, a variety of personality disorders and depression. I could literally write a book about this odd, dysfunctional family. It would be a true "dramedy". Naturally, I'm the most normal person here.

Yeah, I know. All I can say is it's a good thing I have a sense of humor. Now I just need to find that door I thought I didn't need for my office and re-install that sucker.

And at last, after many years of dragging my feet, I'm going to divorce my Irish man. It's sad, but we have been living apart for quite some time. Our relationship, actually, has never been better, because we only speak occasionally to talk about all our nutty relatives—he has plenty on his side too. He thinks I'm disconnected from reality (Duh! Writer!?), but I know he's a narcissist. It's a friendly divorce. No dogs to cut in half. He has all the dogs; I have my Betta fish, Drago, and the feral cat that adopted me when I stood outside under a full moon. I figured it was a sign I should keep her.

Anyway, I'm rambling. It's NaNoWriMo month and I have tons of words to write to catch up. These ones don't count!

Today's the last day to enter the Autographed Book Contest! Be sure to post a comment to enter. Muah!

Snippet Saturday: Setting

Setting is about more than where or when a story takes place. An author strives to place the reader in this other world and immerse them inside it. This is the prologue from Ravished by a Viking, where I introduce Eirik who is making a very grave mistake, one that launches his brother Dagr on a daring mission to rescue him, and which continues in the next story, Enslaved by a Viking. The last line of this excerpt is what "seals the deal" so far is Fatin is concerned. Enjoy sinking into the setting with New Iceland Vikings!

"With the intriguing meshing of the past with the future this was an engrossing read…"

Top Pick!, Night Owl Reviews

"A steamy and fascinating adventure…"

Romance Reviews Today

"Clash of cultures, clash of myths, clash of powerful personalities…how many authors can bring out on paper the excitement and more-than-willing suspension of disbelief that old fashioned adventure stories once brought us?…a wonderful, action-packed, emotional roller-coaster of a read."

Alien Places

What a Viking wants, a Viking takes.

When his younger brother goes missing, Dagr, Viking warrior and Lord of the Wolfskin Clan, will do whatever it takes to get him back. But nothing could have prepared him for Honora—a feisty, intelligent woman who is nothing like the women of his world—women who are content to serve their men in all things. Drawn to her despite her recalcitrant nature, Dagr is determined to show her who's boss both in bed and out.

When the two enemies-turned-lovers join forces to find Dagr's brother they are thrown into a rousing adventure full of danger, intrigue and erotic abandon. Can their passion truly unite them or will their different worlds lead to destruction for them both?

Eirik Ulfhednar glared into his opponent's reddened face and adjusted his hand, just a slight movement to improve his grip, and then bore down with all his might. The muscles of his forearm and bicep burned. A spike of adrenaline seared his blood.

Harald, who had boasted his prowess over drinks, didn't seem so confident he'd win this contest now. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a feral snarl, but his bushy red brows rose, betraying his surprise that the man in front of him, so much younger and more privileged than he, hadn't already crumpled.

A smile eased up the corners of Eirik's mouth, and he narrowed his eyes. He would prove he was every inch his brother's equal and deserving of respect from the crew at the mining camp. Respect that they'd denied him since his arrival that afternoon.

However, respect had to be earned from these fierce, rough men. An accident of birth didn't grant an Ulfhednar, a Wolfskin, any special favors inside this clan. Further, Eirik's status wasn't helped by the fact that the last time he'd visited the camp, he'd been a gangly teen with blemishes on his face, tagging behind his elder brother.

But Eirik wasn't a boy anymore. This challenge was a good place to prove it.

Without a hint to warn his opponent, Eirik opened his jaws and yawned, then squeezed harder around Harald's huge fist and slammed it into the table.



The crowd surrounding them roared. Large, meaty hands slapped his shoulders in congratulations. Eirik gave Harald a chagrined smile and stood to reach over the table and offer his hand.

Harald shook his head, scowling, looking none too happy to have been bested, but he gripped Eirik's wrist. "You won fair. Only other man who ever bested me was your brother."

Prideful pleasure warmed Eirik, and he wondered why he'd been so resistant to return to this rough camp. He'd thought he wouldn't enjoy it. That the journey itself would bring back hurtful memories of his father. However, his brother had been right about his needing to learn more about his heritage than just the art of battling like a Norseman. His brother was right about most things, and it was time for Eirik to accept that fact.

He let the crowd draw him toward the sleeping quarters of the mining camp's longhouse. Blue-gray light gleamed through the curved ice-block walls and ceiling where "windows" had been cut in the animal skin lining. Although it was nearing time to sleep, daylight rarely waned in this region of New Iceland.

The smells of roasted animal and a pot of savory stew permeated the longhouse since no vents were cut to allow them to escape. A chimney had no place in the ancient structure, built in the time their ancestors had first arrived on this cold planet.

"Tell us of your journey," Harald said, taking up one of the stools set around the crude fire pit. Chunks of the precious ore the miners cut from the earth deep beneath the icy crust lay nestled in the bottom of the pit, emitting an eerie glow and warmth that tempered the cool, wet chill lingering in the air.

With the melodic sound of water dripping from the walls nearest the pit and the earthy smells of the men around him, Eirik relaxed, ready to spin a tale worthy of the brother to their clan-lord, for he'd traveled to this frigid outpost without the comfort and safety of a tracked snow-eater by land. He'd come the more direct route, by ice-skiff, over the frozen waters. A feat made even more bold by the fact his father had been lost, no trace ever found, during a similar trek to this mine which lay farthest from the Wolfskin's seat of power.

"It was a harrowing journey," Eirik began, pausing as a beaker of mead was handed to him.

"Did you see serpents?" one of the men asked, a hint of awe in his voice. Few dared travel the open frozen sea. They fished near the shores, but rarely ventured over deeper water because of the monsters lurking there.

Eirik nodded and leaned forward. "A pod of the beasts trailed after me from Skuldelev all the way here. Streaks of blue, green, and bright flame shot past me, gliding close beneath the surface of the ice. They circled, closing tighter and tighter. But I let out my sails and skimmed past their death spiral."

"Did any of them break the surface?" Harald asked. "Did you see their horned heads?"

"I never looked back." A lesson he'd learned from his brother when he'd first taught Eirik to sail.

If you look back, little brother, you risk losing your nerve. Always, always keep your eyes on your destination.

"But the winds favored me. The bastards pounded the ice behind me with their huge heads." He gave the men a sly smile, relishing the attention. "The breaks only added a little lift to speed me along."

Soft laughter surrounded him. Outracing the monsters who ruled the seas wasn't a sport. The consequences of one mistake could end in an agonizing death—dragged beneath the ice to an underwater berg-cave to be ripped apart and devoured by the pod.

Which was why so few dared. However, Eirik had a long tradition to uphold. The lords of the Wolfskins were fearless; neither the cold nor formidable odds could conquer them. Hence his mode of travel and the bearskin cloak sitting on his shoulders. Even the miners wore the Outlanders' deep-space clothing which insulated better against the freezing temperatures. Eirik wore garments crafted in the old ways by the women of his clan. Boiled wool undergear and a thicker wool shirt; bearskin chaps tied around his wool trousers. Thick boots made of several layers of cowhide encased his feet.

Yes, his toes were cold, but he could still feel them. If he'd taken a spill in the skiff and damaged the hull or steering skimmers, he'd have frozen to death if the ice dragons hadn't killed him first. But Eirik would never think to complain about the harsh strictures his brother and he lived by. Their lack of comforts was only a small part of what they sacrificed to make themselves worthy to lead their clan.

Harald lifted his chin to the men around him then bent toward Eirik. "You'll be wanting to see what we found." Gone was the blustery, overloud voice. Even his expression changed, shifting from brusque savage to sharp-eyed warrior.

The miners standing nearest turned to face outward to ensure none of the Outlanders in the longhouse came close enough to overhear their conversation.

"My brother wants this kept secret," Eirik whispered. "Until we're sure."

Harald nodded. "Not a word. And our production hasn't suffered in spite of the extra work. No one will suspect anything's amiss. The shipping containers are already stacked high in the main cavern in preparation for the next delivery."

"Does the artifact appear damaged in any way?"

"What we've uncovered thus far is intact. We're working with picks and shovels rather than large drills. When we get close to parts of the mechanism, we use our chisels."

"Good." Relieved, he gave Harald a smile. "My brother will come when it's fully excavated. For now, we pretend I'm here to inspect the mine."

Harald nodded, and in an instant his expression changed from keen intelligence back to affable companion. "We'll talk more tomorrow. Below."

Eirik understood. The less said here, the less chance of discovery. If what the miners had found beneath the ice pack was what Eirik and his brother thought, the Icelanders had a new weapon in their arsenal that would ensure their hard-won freedom. "Tomorrow is soon enough to see the mine," he said, raising his voice for the benefit of anyone trying to overhear. "Is there a pallet for me?"

"A pallet in a private nook." Harald winked. "And a woman to warm you while your clothing dries above the fire."

Low, masculine laughter erupted around the circle as men raised their cups and shared sly glances.

Eirik grimaced. "I've frost coating my balls." He drained his drink. The honey mead, made from the honey of the bees in Hel's meadow, slid down his throat, warming his belly.

"I bet you do. But we have the cure." Harald smiled and clapped his shoulder hard, and then shoved off his stool to lead Eirik away from the fire and toward a row of sectioned-off sleeping berths. He pulled back a heavy curtain from one.

Inside, a shelf-like bed stretched across the back wall draped in gray wolf and brown bear skin. A small fire pit glowed in the center of the small cubby.

A woman knelt on the floor beside it, nude but for a soft, woven blanket clutched around her shoulders. Dark, sloe eyes lifted slowly and widened as Eirik entered.

Never looking back, Eirik reached behind him and snapped the curtain closed, leaving Harald laughing outside. Then he stepped closer, reached for the edge of the blanket, and inched it away to reveal the figure of the woman who sat still, chin down, her small cat-like features glowing gold in the pure light.

She was a dark beauty, with long black hair and creamy brown skin. Perfect, if a little too petite. Still, she was a sex-thrall, so identified by the stamped metal cuff encircling one wrist, one of the women contracted to service the men because no Icelandic woman would demean herself to act the whore. His size shouldn't prove a problem.

His blood heated as he stared at her small, round breasts with their brown nipples. A hint of her sex, tucked between her thighs, was smooth and gleaming in the warm light. He noted her slender curves, her supple legs. She'd do nicely.

"Undress me. My fingers are numb," he growled, enjoying her quiver of fear. Best to let her know now that he wasn't a soft man.

Color infused her dusky cheeks, but she rose without hesitation and drew away his clothing, one item at a time.

Her spicy scent and lingering touches warmed him more than the radiant heat rising from the stones.

When he was naked and seated on the edge of the pallet, she dipped the blanket into the pit to warm the fibers then rubbed his body with it, chafing away the cold, igniting a languorous heat that stirred his blood.

He breathed deeply, keeping his gaze averted, pretending to be unmoved although his cock was thickening and pulsing to the thrum of his heartbeat. Like a lynx, he waited until she circled to his front. Then he pounced, grabbing her hips and lifting her off the ground.

She gave a startled gasp, but opened her legs and straddled him, nestling her knees beside his hips on the mattress and bracing her hands against his shoulders. Her gaze locked with his as she slowly lowered herself onto his cock.

Slick heat surrounded him, obliterating the last vestige of the numbing cold that had slowed his body and his thoughts. "What is your name?" he murmured, his lips hovering over hers.

"Fatin," she whispered, meeting his gaze.

"You please me. I'll see you're well-compensated."

* * * * *

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

Vivian Arend

HelenKay Dimon

Come play at Wild & Wicked Cowboys

Don't forget! There are two contest currently running on this website.

See my contest page for details!

* * * * *

Ready to be swept away by a sexy story? You're the one who has to write it.

Check out Wild & Wicked Cowboys. The picture says it all!