Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 526

An excerpt from HER SOUL TO KEEP

I'm extending the Mermaid Journal contest through Thursday, because 1) I want to finish packaging previous winners' gifts for mailing, and 2) I want to begin a contest to help get the word out regarding Her Soul to Keep. I'll be uploading the story to Kindle, Smashwords, Nook and All Romance today. Hopefully by Thursday, I'll be able to point you to the book.

In the meantime, here's an excerpt. Enjoy!

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Minutes later, they arrived hand-in-hand and winded at her front door.

Viper cut a quick glance around them, straining for the crunch of footsteps and the beat of a telltale heart. No one lingered in the shadows around them.

Specters from his other life hadn't followed him here.

Earlier, before he'd stalked her, he'd been careful not to lead anyone else to her door. He'd scrubbed the scent of blood, booze, and cigarettes from his skin and hair, and dressed in freshly laundered clothing. He'd laid down a trail in the opposite direction from her house and backtracked.

No one would ever connect her to him. No one could ever know how precious she was. The seamy underbelly of the dark world he moved inside would never touch her.

He'd sacrificed everything to make sure of that.

Her keys jangled as she clumsily fit one into the lock. "Don't be expecting too much. I didn't know I'd bring company back with me tonight."

The door swung open, and she stepped inside.

Viper followed on her heels, not letting her put space between them. His hands gripped the sides of her hips, and he pushed her deeper inside before kicking the door closed behind them.

Then he pulled her backward, wrapping both arms around her waist and gliding his lips along the top of her shoulder and up her neck, finding the pulse thrumming just beneath the skin.

Her head fell against his shoulder, and his teeth began the slow slide downward. He jerked back his head, trying to get control of himself.

She drew deep, rasping breaths into her lungs. "What's wrong? Why did you stop?"

Knowing he'd lisp around his elongated teeth, he shook his head against hers and smoothed his hands over her firm belly, then upward to cup her breasts through her clothing.

She kicked off her sandals and slid down. Her clothing rustled. When her skirt dragged against his jeans on its downward journey, he rucked up her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. With a soft snick, she opened the front clasp of her bra, but before she could lean away to remove it, his palms enclosed her breasts, squeezing gently.

The feel of her warm, plump flesh filling his hands caused his entire body to tighten with excitement. He scraped thumbs over her hardening nipples, eliciting a gasp. Smiling, he plucked then twisted while her chest jerked with her excited little breaths.

He glided a hand down her belly, then stroked up again until she quivered and tensed. When he stroked downward again, her hand halted him just before he touched the soft hair atop her mound.

"It's not fair," she moaned, rubbing her back and shoulders against his chest. "You have on too many clothes."

He twirled her in his arms, reached down to cup her bare bottom and lifted her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, and her mouth landed on his cheek, his chin—

He turned his face to avoid her mouth. "Your bedroom?" he bit out, although he already knew.

Mariah lifted her arm to point and snuggled her cheek alongside his as he moved through her darkened living room and down the short corridor to her bedroom.

A single lamp beside the bed lit the room. He stepped toward the bed and climbed onto the mattress, taking her to the center before lowering his body to blanket hers.

"This isn't going to work," she murmured.

He ignored her complaint and trailed his mouth down her neck, shielding his teeth behind his lips until he reached her breasts.

A soft cry filled the air above him as he stroked her with his tongue, chancing gentle nibbles with his front teeth.

Her fingers thrust through his long hair, combing it, pulling it as he deepened the suctioning that drew her nipples into taut beads.

"Danny…"

Not Daniel, as he'd insisted. Did some small corner of her mind remember him after all? He pulled away and sat up to strip off his jacket and his T-shirt, which he tossed to the floor behind him.

Her hands reached for his belt and opened it. She thumbed open the waist of his pants then began to slide a hand inside.

Instead, he backed off the bed to remove his boots and jeans.

She came up on her elbows, her greedy gaze raking his body.

When he was nude, he stood still for a moment, letting her look at his body. "Do I pass?" he teased.

Her thighs closed then slowly parted again. A slick of moisture glazed her pale skin.

As he climbed back onto the bed, Viper noted her heightened arousal in the flare of her nostrils and quickening breaths.

Her legs widened at his first gentle nudge. He reached down to lift her knees and arrange them on either side of his hips.

Then he lowered himself, closing his eyes as his skin met hers. Pure heaven. He was gonna roast in Hell. "This too fast for you?" he gritted out.

Her hands slipped around his back and kneaded the muscles on either side of his spine. Her face was tightening, her eyes glittering with unashamed excitement. "I need you moving inside me. Now, please."

Her tight, urgent words were exactly what he wanted to hear. He lifted his hips and slid a hand between their bodies. His fingers closed around himself, and he fitted the tip to her entrance and slowly thrust inside. The feel of her moist channel closing around him made him clench with sensual delight.

Her eyes closed tightly, and her thighs clasped him, her hips tilting to receive him.

He settled his cheek beside hers and stroked deep into her liquid heat. Surrounded by her creamy walls, he began to move, his body shuddering, already in the grip of his overwhelming arousal.

Planting his knees in the mattress, he slipped his arms beneath her thighs and lifted her hips off the bed, churning, thrusting, and circling his hips to tunnel deeper inside her sweet body.

She gasped and her arms wrapped around his back. Her fingertips scraped up and down, digging into his skin to urge him deeper, faster.

His motions increased in strength and intensity. He jerked against her, beginning a sweet pummeling that moved her up the slippery, silk comforter. He followed, not letting her escape, not giving her a moment to deepen the quivering breaths that gusted against his cheek.

Wrapped inside her arms, sliding into her deliciously wet channel, he fought the tension growing inside him, not wanting to surrender, not willing to allow the beast inside him to crawl out and take his pleasure and her blood.

The internal battle he fought made him sweat and tremble.

When her first shivers rippled along his shaft and her internal muscles clamped hard around him, he groaned and opened his mouth to suckle the salt and perfume from her neck, testing with his tongue until he felt the surge of blood beneath her skin, and he gave into the urge to taste.

His razor-sharp teeth slid into flesh, nicking the pulsing artery.

A sharp hiss sounded in his ear, and her hands came between them, shoving at his chest. Her body bucked, writhing under him.

But he didn't let go, even knowing he'd hurt her. Wait, let it happen.

The next frightened roll of her hips brought him deeper and she groaned, her fingers now sinking in the hair on his chest to clutch him closer.

Her body spasmed, her back arched hard, a low agonized moan squeezing from her tight throat.

Still, he held back his own release, letting hers sweep through her, knowing the exact moment it happened because a keening cry rose around them.

When the quivering beneath him lessened, he withdrew his teeth, lapped at the tiny wounds to close them, and drew back his head to stare down into her pale, shocked face.

"I know who you are," she said, her voice rasping painfully. Tears welled in her eyes, but didn't spill over. Her lips trembled.

"Who do you think I am?" he asked, afraid she might have gleaned the truth.

Best Cover Ever

Do you agree? This was the first draft the designer gave me. "Let me know what you don't like," she'd said in the email. There wasn't one thing I didn't like. The cover captures the tone of the story perfectly. I'm sharing it today to let you know that tomorrow, I'll be working on uploading the book to Amazon, Nook, All Romance and Smashwords. It will likely take a day or two for the story to be live, but what better things do you have to do than hit the refresh key?

One night of pleasure…

His name is Viper—a dark mysterious enigma who rules the seedy, dangerous vampiric underworld. For one night, he will escape his murky prison and tempt an innocent.

…can last a lifetime…

Beautiful Mariah haunts him. Lures him from his den with a glimpse of his past. One she doesn't remember. This night, he'll be her dream lover. He'll seduce her, make her fall in love with him—then leave her. Again.

One night of pleasure is all they must know.

Read an excerpt

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Just a few announcements…

Today is THE LAST DAY to enter the Mermaid Journal contest. See last Tuesday's posting for a picture of the pretty prize!

I'm also blogging at Everything Erotic today. I posted a very long, juicy scene. You won't want to miss it!

Tonight, I'll be in live chats at Writerspace. Join me, along with other authors from Ellora's Cave at 8 PM EST. Then stick around to talk with authors from After Midnight Fantasies at 9 PM EST. Here's the URL for the chat room: Writerspace Chat Room

Guest Blogger: M.K. Elliott

Remember! Post a comment and be entered in the Mermaid Journal contest! ~DD

Short but Sexy

The short story is under-rated. When it's good, it's really good. A short story can pull you into its world within the first few lines, thrust you through intense drama and then surprise you at the end.

Examples of some hit short stories include Stephen King's, The Stand, and 1408, both of which were made into hugely successful movies, and Edgar Allen Poe's, The Pit and the Pendulum.

These days everything seems to want to be long. It's as if some writers are in competition with each other, trying to see who can write the longest manuscript. But bigger doesn't always mean better.

As author Mark Twain once famously wrote to his friend, 'I would have written a shorter letter, but I didn't have the time.'

In many ways, writing a short story is harder than writing a novel. There isn't the opportunity to hope the reader falls in love with the characters within a few chapters. Instead, the character must be big enough to be believed in and adored within a few paragraphs. The story needs to have a plot and the characters need to have a past, but this information needs to be filtered in and not simply dumped in one big heap.

Writing erotic short stories is sometimes even harder than writing non-erotic stories. Of course, the sex is important. It has to be smoking hot and it needs to happen within a few pages. However, this doesn't mean that the story itself should be lost, or that the characters have any less depth or background.

Generally my short stories start with a situation: a woman gets into difficulties while out for a swim in a rough ocean, a man returns to his parents home to find the girl next door is no longer a little girl, a business man is accosted by a hot air hostess while on a long haul flight. Once I've got the situation sorted out, then the characters start to build in my mind. I ask myself who they are, what are their likes and dislikes—their favourite foods and music—how do they like to dress? Then I start to look into their past. What has happened in their past to get them into their present situation?

I like to end my stories with a happy-ever-after or a happy-for-now ending, but my favourite type of ending is a twist, something even I didn't see coming.

The great thing about a short story is that it has such immediate gratification, both for the writer and the reader. There isn't the six months writing the first draft, followed by another six months of revisions, then another six months of submitting before you even hear something. Writing short stories are fun, and getting the acceptances are even better.

So get writing everyone. Craft your short stories with the love you give your novels, but remember if less has ever been more, it is certainly true in a short!

Author Bio:

M.K. Elliott is the author of the bestselling short story collection, Rescued. A British author, she was born in Devon, England, where she now lives with her husband, two young daughters, a crazy Spanish rescue dog and four hens. Though she has a degree in Zoology, her true love has always been writing and she now works as a full time author. M.K. writes everything from contemporary romance to steaming hot erotica, and her love of travel and adventure is her main influence in her stories.

Rescued is available to buy from Amazon and Barnes & Noble. If you would like to know more about M.K. then please visit her Facebook Page. Her short stories also appear in the Kindle blog and eBooks, Everything Erotic.

Snippet Saturday: Water

Comment here today to be entered in the Mermaid Journal contest (details in Tuesday's post)! ~DD

Yeah, the cover's a little freaky. This story is from very early in my epubbed career, when I was still trying to get my footing writing series. Love Bites came easier than I expected because of Quentin. He appeared as the best friend of my hero in the first My Immortal Knight book and was so arrogant and droll I didn't want to say goodbye to him. Here's a snippet from the story when he nearly loses the one thing he can't live without.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The radio crackled in Darcy's ear. "Nicky and his crew just pulled into the marina," the Captain said from the command post—the team's van in the parking area. "Remember, we'll wait to strike until he brings his men in to move the cargo."

Thank God! She'd been afraid she would disgrace herself. The wait had been interminable. The storm that threatened to break over their heads had whipped up waves in the inlet, setting all the boats tied to the dock bobbing in the water. Her stomach pitched right along with them.

"I'm gonna barf if this doesn't go down soon," Phil moaned.

Soft chuckles sounded from seven mikes. Darcy commiserated with Phil. Glad she hadn't eaten any dinner, she kept silent beside Quentin, nausea roiling in her belly and clammy perspiration breaking on her forehead. This was one stakeout she'd be happy to see the end of.



"Too many of Bets' meatballs, Phil?" Emmy broke in, her voice full of sympathy.

"God, don't mention it," he groaned.

Above the sound of the gathering wind, footsteps echoed hollowly on the wooden planks of the dock. Quentin crouched so close behind her she felt his body grow rigid. It felt right to have him watching her back even though she still missed Joe. They'd taken up a position on the cabin cruiser tied next to Rupe King's. Hunkered down behind the gunwale of the boat, they listened tensely for the order to move in for the kill.

Quentin had stuck to her like glue all evening. It was annoying, but sweet, how protective he was of her. And totally unnecessary. When things turned ugly—and they would—she'd be moving fast. She didn't want to trip over him.

The rumble of voices sounded in the next boat, but they were too low to make out their words. There was a sudden burst of laughter and a door opened, spilling light from the cabin onto the dock.

Darcy rose up to peek over the rail, but Quentin's heavy hand pushed her down. She turned to glare at him. "What do you think you're doing?" she whispered angrily.

"Shhh." He lifted his chin in the direction of the other boat.

Darcy saw one of Nicky's boys on the bow with a radio next to his ear. "Tell them it's clear," the teen said.

Ignoring Darcy's glower, Quentin whispered into his headset, "Get ready. Nicky's given the all clear. The others will be closing on the boat."

"Roger that," Max replied quietly. "No one moves until I give the signal."

With the team in position on neighboring boats and inside cars in the marina, the gang would be encircled in moments.

Darcy held her breath. Once the noose tightened, Nicky would react like a trapped animal. She'd seen the mayhem he was capable of when he held all the cards, now she'd get a glimpse of a monster in full rage.

The heavy tread of half a dozen of Nicky's "soldiers" echoed dully in the night. Darcy hugged her crossbow to her chest and concentrated on the sound of her breaths to make her racing heart slow its pace and give her thoughts focus.

Slower, calmer, centered. She drew on her inner reserve of peace, visualizing the team's victory.

She was ready.

"Get cocked," the Captain said.

Darcy rose on her knees, lifted her bow, and sighted down the shaft of her arrow, and then rose a fraction higher to point it over the railing. In the dim light provided by the lamps strung from boat slip to boat slip, Darcy couldn't sight on Nicky.

"I don't see Nicky," she whispered.

"Must still be in the cabin," Max replied. "Take out the men on the dock you can see when I give the order."

With the deck of the boat pitching beneath her knees, Darcy struggled for balance. "I'll take the first in line."

"I've got the second target," Max replied.

Once the team had selected their marks, the airwave was silent. The only sounds coming from boats nudging their slips and booted feet on wood.

Suddenly, one of Nicky's men lifted his nose into the wind.

"Now!" Max shouted.

Darcy pulled back on her trigger, letting her arrow fly. Her first target staggered, and then disintegrated. When she reached for her next arrow, Quentin leapt over the gunwale and landed on the narrow walkway between the two boats.

The rapid tattoo of gunfire erupted and her team members shouted in their mikes as they took cover.

Cursing beneath her breath, Darcy quickly pulled back her bowstring, latched it in the spring clip, and slid the arrow along the track. Armed, she slid over the gunwale, intent on following Quentin.

From all along the dock came the sounds of the ensuing battle. Curses, and the sharp staccato of machine fire ripped through the night.

"How many?" Max's voice demanded.

"I counted nine," the Captain said, his voice sounding raspy as he ran along the dock to join the fight.

"That means six to go." Max grunted, and then roared. The sounds of fists meeting flesh filled Darcy's headset.

"Emmy, get back to the van!"

"Dylan, I have a stake in this too. You're not leaving me behind."

"God dammit to hell!"

As she crept aboard the drug lord's cruiser, Darcy ignored the voices in her ear and the flashes of gunfire that burst brilliantly around her. Getting Nicky was her sole focus. Oh, and saving Quentin's butt. They were partners now. He shouldn't have proceeded without her.

She climbed up the gangway and slipped over the side, making her way toward the steps leading down into the cabin. The lights had been doused, but she sensed movement inside. Careful not to make any noise, she inched her way toward the shadowed compartment.

"Well, if it isn't GI Jane." The voice came from behind her and she stiffened, her heart lurching in her chest. "I'd recognize your sweet scent anywhere."

The team went instantly, eerily, silent. With her heart picking up its pace, she slowly turned to face Nicky Powell, her bow raised level with her chest. All she could think was where the hell was Quentin?

Quentin watched from the shadow of the cockpit, his hand tightening around the puny stake he held. Nicky had a gun pointed at Darcy. Quentin didn't dare make a move or he might distract her.

Nicky took a step toward her.

"Don't come any closer," she warned.

He sniffed the air. "I smell Quentin. He's been all over you, hasn't he?" His smile sent a shiver down Quentin's back.

"You're surrounded," Darcy said, her voice steady. "You may as well lay down your weapon. You aren't stepping off this boat."

Quentin's chest filled with pride at her courage.

"But I have you, therefore I have the advantage."

A soft click and the blur of her arrow flying toward Nicky's chest happened so quickly, Quentin didn't have time to react.

The arrow sank only to its tip.

Nicky's laughter, soft and ominous rang in the air. "Do you think you're the only ones who own flak jackets?" He plucked the arrow from his shirt. "Let's stop wasting time. Come here." He waved her closer with his gun.

Quentin watched Darcy's face and knew the exact moment she'd decided not to cooperate. She drew a deep breath and her hands clenched at her sides. He started to rise from his hiding place when she took a step toward Nicky. Suddenly, she feinted to the side.

The roar of Nicky's gun spurred Quentin from his hiding place. From the corner of his eye he saw Darcy pitch forward and over the side of the boat, her body splashing softly in the water below. He roared and launched himself at Nicky, desperate to get to Darcy.

He raised his stake and Nicky fired again, striking Quentin in the abdomen. He dropped the stake, but the bullet didn't slow his advance. His charge carried him into Nicky and down onto the bow of the cruiser. His progeny roared, his face transforming and pulling Quentin into his bloodlust.

Quentin's body and face expanded and he flung back his head with a roar of fury. He rolled with Nicky, fighting to keep his "son" beneath him. He spotted a coil of rope and reached out his hand to close around it.

Nicky pounded at Quentin's sides with his fists, but Quentin was undeterred. He grasped the rope in both hands and wound it once around his opponent's throat.

Nicky's eyes bulged as the noose tightened. His mouth gaped and his body bucked in powerful surges, trying to unseat Quentin, but Quentin pulled tighter until the nylon cut into the other vamp's throat.

With adrenaline surging through his veins, Quentin snapped the rope, severing Nicky's head from his shoulders.

When the din of his bloodlust quieted in his head, he heard the shouts of the team and Dylan as they ran toward him. He lurched toward the side of the boat and jumped into the water. As he entered it, he heard splashes all around him and bright lights shown into the murky depths.

He swam deep to the bottom of the inlet, but he didn't see her. His heart breaking, he reached into the silt and waving fronds of seagrass, searching for the place her body had settled. How long had it been? Please God, I have to find her.

His lungs burning from the lack of air, he refused to return to the surface. Every moment was precious. His hands sank below the swirling green seaweed as he swam along the bottom.

Then he saw a pale oval glimmering among the fronds. He reached and snagged Darcy's braid, pulling her into his arms. He swam for the surface, his lungs nearly bursting, praying he wasn't too late.

When he surfaced, many hands reached for his burden. Although reluctant to let her go, he lifted her body gently into their waiting arms, then heaved himself onto the planks beside them.

Max made quick work of removing her Kevlar jacket and her T-shirt. Then he placed two fingers to the side of her throat. "Her heart isn't beating."

A raw, burning sensation tightened Quentin's throat. With every fiber of his being, he fought the need to push everyone aside and gather her close to him and howl. Darcy couldn't be gone. Eternity without her was unthinkable.

His breath sounding harsh in his ears, he watched Max press his clasped hands against her chest. Captain Springer knelt beside her head and lowered his mouth to hers, breathing into her lungs. Dylan pressed her T-shirt against the furrowed wound high on her shoulder that seeped slowly with her blood.

An arm settled around his shoulders and Quentin looked up into Emmy's misty face. Then he realized he was crying. She kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly to her breasts. His arms slipped around her while his eyes burned, watching the men work over Darcy's still form.

"Breathe dammit," he whispered, willing her to live. If only, he'd moved more quickly, he could have taken the bullet for her.

The men continued to work and Quentin's dread grew. He was responsible for this. He had made Nicky. God damn his soul.

Max stopped the compressions and checked her pulse again.

Quentin saw a flutter of an eyelid. "Wait," he said, his breath catching. Please don't let me have imagined it.

Darcy's body convulsed and water burbled from her mouth. Max rolled her to her side and she choked, vomiting water. Her eyes remained closed and the group waited to see whether she'd recover.

Slowly, her hand fisted and she coughed. Her eyes opened and she stared straight at Quentin.

Quentin didn't care that everyone saw the tears that streaked down his cheeks. He crawled toward her and reached out his hand to cup her cheek. "Don't you ever give me another scare like that," he said, not recognizing the sound of his voice, it was so clogged with emotion.

Darcy's hand settled over his. "What? You think I planned to suck down the entire Atlantic?" She coughed again, the sound rattling harsh inside her chest.

"Let's get this one to a hospital," the Captain said.

Darcy's eyes sought Quentin's. "Nicky?"

"He's dead," he said flatly.

"As are the rest of his minions," Max said.

Darcy settled back against the wooden planks, her eyes closing. "So tired."

Quentin gathered her into his arms and lurched to his feet. "Sleep, baby. I've got you now."

She sighed and pressed a kiss to his throat.

Quentin held her to close to his heart as he followed the Captain toward the waiting van. He'd never let her go.

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

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

Vivian Arend

Mari Carr

Taige Crenshaw

Eliza Gayle

McKenna Jeffries

T.J. Michaels

Emma Petersen

Jody Wallace

Guest Blogger: Desiree Holt

Desiree Holt is one of my favorite people. I met her when I lived in South Texas. Her appearance is deceptive. She looks sweet, like everyone's favorite milk-and-cookies mama—until you get closer and note the maniacal gleam in her eyes.

I met her before she ever published and I had not idea she'd be such a powerhouse! I'm prolific, but she's a human dynamo—and she just published her 100th book! Give her a warm welcome! ~DD

What do The Kingston Trio, Tex and I have in common?

The Kingston Trio recorded a centuries-old Irish air called The Gypsy Rover, about a whistling gypsy whose music is so seductive that the daughter of the castle's lord runs from her home, her lover and her upcoming wedding to follow the gypsy rover. Her father "saddles his fastest steed and searches the valleys all over" in order to find her.

Texas is where I live-and breathe—so whenever possible I set my stories here. It seems the perfect backdrop for a story of a runaway bride, a wealthy and powerful rancher and a cowboy minstrel who isn't quite what he seems. I love the song so much that I just had to write the story—and of course listen to the song while I was writing.

Buy it here: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9285-hard-lovin.aspx

Leave a comment and you might win a free ebook.

Erin Braddock, daughter of wealthy and powerful rancher Rance Braddock, has been to hell and back. So has wandering cowboy minstrel Grady Sinclair. But the moment they meet chemistry ignites between them, erasing everything else. The sex is scorching, explosive, addictive. They can't get enough each other. The same talented fingers that coax seductive music from his guitar coax powerful orgasms from her body. Seduced by his music as well as the sinfully sexy man himself, Erin runs away with him. Nights she sits in the bar listening to his come-to-me voice promising her the erotic delights he delivers on when they're back in their room. But will the past follow them or can they build a future together, in and out of bed?

Gypsy rover come over the hill, down through the valley so shady

He whistled and he sang til the greenwoods rang and he won the heart of a lady

Erin Braddock slipped into the dark bar through the back door, squinty against the darkness and found her way to a tiny booth in the corner. The area was so small a second person would be hard pressed to find room in the space but that suited her just fine. She hadn't come here looking for company. Unless it was the cowboy up on the postage stamp sized stage, alone in the spotlight with his guitar and his smoky voice. Ebony black hair curled down to the nape of his neck and a work shirt and worn jeans clung to his lean body like a second skin. The muscles in his arm flexed as he picked at the strings of the guitar, coaxing a tune from it.

The lights were dim in the smoky club, a sea of black with only himself in the searing white glow of the spotlight. The air was heavy with expectation as he strummed the melody of a love song that whipped its sound over the crowd only to slow like the stroke of a lover's caress.

You are so out of your mind for doing this.

So what else was new?

She'd just had to get out of the house. Away from the ranch. Away from …everyone. Her father, Rance, who was suffocating her with his protective kindness. T.J. Elliott, the fiancé she couldn't seem to break away from. The houseful of people all gathered to celebrate a wedding tomorrow.

Hers.

A wedding she didn't want.

The memories of the nightmare with Cal hadn't yet faded and her father was suffocating her with his protective kindness. The far too wealthy Rance Braddock was, if nothing else, like a tidal wave that swallowed people up. And then there was T.J. Elliott, her father's choice for a 'safe' and well-connected husband. A way to guarantee her future. No danger there.

Not like Cal, the worst mistake she'd ever made. And she'd wanted safe. Needed it. Her father and T.J. treated her like some child too fragile to be let out on her own. Well, maybe she was. Look what she'd gotten herself into. And didn't want to get out of, until she'd had no other choice. Now, at thirty, she suddenly didn't seem to be able to put one foot in front of the other any more.

Until now.

The bad part about being rescued from a situation like the one she'd been in was people were afraid to take their eyes off of you. She didn't even seem to have the strength to tell them they could look away. She went along to get among, letting herself be swept up in a courtship she didn't want and a wedding suddenly bearing down on her like a tornado.

She'd come to the bar a few nights ago with her girl friends who had practically dragged her out of the house.

"Have fun," her father said.

"You'll be fine with the girls," T.J. told her. He'd kissed her on the cheek and teased, "Last night out before becoming Mrs. Elliott."

She was safe with her friends. Girl's night out was okay. Both her father and T.J. had relaxed.

But her friend Lili had whispered in her ear, "Wait until you see Grady Sinclair. He's hot, hot, hot. And his music!" Lili rolled her eyes. "Just listening to him makes your pussy get wet and your nipples poke like diamonds."

Erin had shivered, skeptical but hopeful. She didn't think she'd ever have that reaction again. Or want it. The best thing about T.J. was he was nonthreatening. She could always fake orgasms. She'd become a very good actress living with Cal.

So she'd let them coax her out and come to Smoky's with them and damn but Lili was right. Wrapped in the almost mystical cloak of the music that drifted to her from the stage she'd felt stirrings that she thought long dead. Responses she didn't think she was capable of anymore. And then she'd come back with them. Again and again, to hear the troubadour with eyes as black as his hair and a rugged face, drawn by the clear, mesmerizing notes of his songs and the sadness in his voice.

An ode…to me!

Remember reader "MC" from Tuesday's post? She sent me this. Completely made my day.

Oh…my…god, what can we say

Boy-oh-boy, you sure made our day!!

We read your blog, and now do believe

You are who you are, but there is still no reprieve

Say what you must, but we know you're the best

Your writing is divine, you surpass the rest

Delilah dear Delilah, your fans we all wait

With bated breath and a hunger, only you can sate

Look at your plan and do what you must

But please write the books, that are filled with such lust

Long or short, we will accept what you do

Because if we don't get a book, it would make us all blue

Your devoted fans that is us, and this is our prayer

To read your next book, which you do with such flair

Is that not the cutest thing? I'll keep her on speed-dial for the next time I need help with a spell!

In the meantime, it's nuts out there isn't it? Earthquakes, tornadoes, raging rivers, controlled floods… Watched a movie last night, The Final Storm, a sort of End of Days tale about a troubled farm family, so isolated they couldn't figure out what was happening around them until the stars began to wink out, one by one, and the next Big Bang exploded. Exciting times. I hope none of you reading this have had to leave your homes to move out of the way of the water.

Two notes:

* I'm also blogging at Wild & Wicked Cowboys. Click in the link and come see the yummy photo I posted!

* The Mermaid Journal contest continues. Any comment you make today here and on W&WC, will count in the drawing!

Guest Blogger: Jasmine Haynes

The Mermaid Journal contest continues! Post a comment today for another chance to win! ~DD

Thanks so much for having me, Delilah!

My May release Past Midnight is the first book in my sexy new DeKnight Trilogy from Berkley Heat. It's the emotional tale of a couple who had the perfect life until they lost their son, and their struggle to find each other again. Here's a brief blurb.

A devastating blow rocked Erin and Dominic DeKnight's marriage, and now only extreme sexual games can soothe their emotional pain. But their most daring erotic adventure is just ahead, and it could ultimately destroy everything they hoped to save.

When I tell people that I do research for my erotic romances, they always think I mean sex research! No! I have a very vivid imagination for that. Though I write contemporary erotic romance, my characters can't be having sex all the time. There's got to be a story, too! My editor loves what she calls my "business" books. I'm an accountant by training, and I spent 20 years working in Silicon Valley, so I love incorporating that business world into my stories (see, there is more than sex!). The Fortune Hunter trilogy was set in a mining equipment company. And the background for the DeKnight trilogy is a small company which manufactures ultrasonic testing gauges. You see, Erin and Dominic own this firm together. In order to give my readers a real feel, I interviewed my neighbor, Teresa. She and her husband own a company very similar to DeKnight Gauges, Inc. It's just amazing what ideas come when you simply listen to people talk about what they do. I have to thank Teresa for giving the story direction from the business point of view, helping me add a little corporate intrigue (stolen patents). The other two books in the trilogy will center on two of their employees, one their accountant (or course), and the other a single mother reentering the work world after a divorce.

Research doesn't stop with the business side of things. I sent Erin and Dominic on a train ride, and in order to get those details correct, I took a trip on Amtrak's Zephyr from San Francisco to Reno. My family went with me, and we had a great time. I was able to get all the details I needed, including a tour of the sleeping car given to me by a helpful porter.

This past weekend, I went to Las Vegas, again with my family, to research a trip my lovers take in the third book of the DeKnight trilogy, Anything Goes After Hours. My mother said I made her walk 9 miles so I could take photos of the Grand Canal in the Venetian, the indoor Paris cityscape, the Bellagio's conservatory, and much much more. She drew the line at going on the roller coaster in New York New York, though. We did see "Menopause, The Musical" at the Luxor. Mom adored it!

So just because I write erotic romance, don't think I skimp on the research! The truth is research actually helps shape the story, taking me in directions I wouldn't have thought of without it.

Past Midnight is available online and in local your bookstore and also in e-format, Kindle and Nook. Book 2, What Happens After Dark will be out in Nov 2011 and Book 3, Anything Goes After Hours will be coming in April 2012. Don't miss an excerpt.

I also invite readers to visit my website, www.jasminehaynes.com, and my blog, www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com. I'm currently doing a free read on the blog, a chapter a week of Kinky Neighbors, a naughty little foursome tale.

This week's contest, last week's winner, and two fans

I got two fan letters yesterday that made me smile, but also made me reconsider my plans, because they are pretty representative of the kind of fan mail I've been getting lately about my Dark Realm series.

Hi There !!

First off I love your style of writting- ABSOLUTELY amazing! I have finshed the fourth book "Darkness Captured". I have a quick question, pls tell me there will be a book on Marduk! He is Breathtaking.

Thank You and HAPPY WRITTING !!!

JG

I wrote her back to say that since Avon won't be publishing the series any more, would she be willing to buy a sequel as an eBook? Then this came a few minutes later.

Hi Ms. Devlin,

I have read your first 3 books of the Dark Realm Series…and am currently reading the 4th, Darkness Captured (I'm on chapter 4). My friend JG just emailed you asking if there will be more books….and you replied below…..I just want to tell you I would definitely purchase your books as ebooks….heck, if you write it down on napkins or toilet paper I would buy that!!!!!! Your books are FANTASTIC….I love your style of writing….please, please continue this series!!!!!!

Sincerely,

MC

MC didn't believe that she was really talking to me, so I told her I'd post her letter here to prove it. Hi there, MC!

Argh! I'm looking at my plan for the year, and it looks like I could tackle it this fall. It won't be as long as the other four DR books, but it will be longer than my usual 25k eBook, because DR fans really loved the deeper world building and I can't do that in short format. I'll probably cuss every bit of the way because I find it hard to self-motivate to write a story that long. I've needed the fear of an editor's deadline to keep my ass in the chair. So thanks, JG and MC, for the awesome emails! Grrr…

In the meantime… I have to choose a winner for the Voodoo Doll contest (the pic's on last Tuesday's blog). Who gets that ugly little mug? Laura Bowles is this week's lucky winner! Laura, send me an email with your snail mail addy and I'll get your doll into the mail.

This week's prize is another of the pretty journals I purchased from one of my favorite curio shops. This one has a picture of a very pretty mermaid on the cover. Be sure to post a comment to enter the drawing. And you can post here or on Facebook over the coming week to increase your chances of winning!

A Question…

Today's your last chance to enter the Voodoo Doll contest (see last Tuesday's post for a picture of the prize)! Post a comment here today for another chance to win. Then if you want still one more chance, head to After Midnight Fantasies where I'm blogging today as well! ~DD

I've been working hard on the next Lone Star Lovers book, and because I can't seem to get my head out of the story (that's a good thing!), I'm keeping this short today, and simply posing another of my questions….

If, with your safety guaranteed, you could experience something considered

very dangerous, what would you want to experience most of all?

Sunday Report Card

Not a bad week!

* A new release! Click on the cover for Begging For It—if you haven't already purchased your copy. (Thanks to whomever starred it on the EC website! I still need a review or two to tell other readers what to expect!)

* 50 pages on a new Lone Star Lovers story, for which I still seek a sexy title. Any suggestions? Pie features in this one. Apple pie in particular, but so do four lusty cowboys!

* I began working on the opening scene of a new vampire novella. It's very rough, not very interesting. I have to find the spark and soon so I can zoom through the story when I wrap up the cowboy thingie this week!

And I saw THOR! Loved it! I suppose it could have been better, but I enjoyed it. It was a fantasy thrillride with plenty of humor, danger and angst. I really loved the lead actor (lovely, lovely body!) and Natalie Portman was suprisingly funny. I hope they plan sequels. Guess we'll have to see if the movie does well enough over time to warrant it. In the meantime, they've given me my Norse fix and a face for my blond Viking in Enslaved by a Viking, HAKON! I'll need that face in my mind when I write his story.

And remember, there's still time to enter the Voodoo Doll contest. Drop a comment! A picture of the prize is in Tuesday's posting!