Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 534

Just taking a poll…

We had another round of severe weather last night. The power popped off and on. Internet was hosed for hours! So I'm preposting this late Wednesday night so that there's something there for you today (Thursday!). Remember! The contest for the journal continues. If you don't know what the heck I'm talking about, check out the post from two days ago.

I'll be away until this afternoon. I'm hoping those flash flood warnings are more of a guideline than actual fact. I have to get to Little Rock for a doctor's appointment. Ugh. I'm hoping it's just a listen to my heart and any complaints I have. Maybe she'll give me some kick-ass antibiotics to get rid of this respiratory infection I've had since the RT convention.

Maybe it's me being lazy, but I'm going to make you do the thinking today. I'm running an unofficial poll, something I might use for my own project planning purposes. You may vote for two answers, and the poll closes Sunday!

Be sure to post a comment to let me know that you were here so that you'll be entered in the contest for the fairy journal!

Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.

Coming May 1st!

The contest for the pretty journal continues. See yesterday's post for details! ~DD

Last night was exciting—wind causing the trees to bend and crack, thunder and lightning, tornado warnings… You get the picture. I had the red-headed hellion, the six-year-old and the two-year-old camped out in my basement as we listened to the weather radio. Then the power goes out. Luckily, I have a thing for candles too. They climbed into the bed down here and went to sleep. I stepped outside under the covered deck to watch. Mother Nature gave me quite a show. No funnel clouds, but lots of jagged lights.

So, not much sleep. I'm on my third cup of coffee and starting to feel alive again.

Today, what I'd like to do is tell you about a story that's releasing in a little over a week. It's my first Nocturne Bite for Harlequin. I'd love for it to be a success, because I'd like to do more of them.

The story isn't one I would have conceived on my own. The concept was already born as part of Nocturne's Time Raiders series. I was invited to write a Bite to continue the series and given a premise to work with. Or at least a historical/mythological figure to build a story around. I'm flexible like that. You know that about me if you've roamed my site before. I have little control over the direction of Bad Moon Rising, which is the story my readers have helped me plot every step of the way. Anyway, the figure I was given was Queen Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons! Fun, right?

If the premise and the excerpt from The Warrior's Touch intrigue you, click on the cover and head over to Amazon.com right now to pre-order this story! And I don't have to tell you, you're gonna love the hero, melt over the sex, and have a spanking good time.

Lieutenant Farideh Kalani expected her time-traveling assignment in ancient Scythia to be difficult, but fitting in with Amazon warriors is easy compared to being partnered with Sergeant First Class Caleb MacAvoy. The Texan soldier is infuriatingly smug and undeniably sexy. Then with one kiss, he awakens all Farideh's desires. Now she'll have to keep an eye on her mission and try to resist her attraction to Caleb. Because he's the one man who might be able to breach the walls she's built around her heart….

Farideh Kalani gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering as she felt herself being pulled one way and then another while spiraling downward. She arrived with a jolt, her thighs spread over the back of a large black stallion, her body bent over his neck as the two of them thundered across rolling hills, the horse's hooves cutting into grass and stone. Which would have been a problem before the time jump, because she'd never ridden anything larger than a pony at the county fair. However, now she reached down to catch the trailing reins, and forced herself back, pulling at the stone bit in her mount's mouth.

The horse gave a shrill whinny and a little buck, but Fari pressed her knees into his sides, and gradually he gentled, easing into a trot.

She grinned, then raised her head and breathed the clean, brisk air of ancient Scythia. Heavy gray storm clouds were rolling in from the south, whipping up a wind that carried the scent of the sea, and salt she could taste.

Glancing down, she noted she sat atop her horse with only a padded saddlecloth between her dark wool trousers and the animal's warm back. Her boots were stuck in leather stirrups sewn to the saddlecloth. She wore an embroidered jacket trimmed in fur around the cuffs and neck, with a row of gold appliqués embossed with gryphons and lions along the hem. She slipped a gloved hand under her sleeve to check for the silver ESC cuff, her ticket home, and breathed a sigh of relief to feel its warmth against her skin.

Grasping the reins with confidence, she trusted the skill that had been implanted in her mind, along with her new knowledge of the geography around her.

If she didn't make the fortress city of Tanais by nightfall, she'd be pitching a tent, of sorts, in the rain, tying together two cushioned saddlecloths with those leather stirrups.

Although she had the knowledge to construct the tent, she wasn't eager to lie on the hard ground within the tiny shelter, huddled for warmth against her current companion.

Sergeant First Class Caleb McAvoy was already too smug and too sexy for her peace of mind.

Speaking of the devil… The pounding of a second set of hooves approached at a fast clip behind her.

"Darlin', you're pullin' too hard on the reins." As usual, the lazy Texas drawl managed to melt her and to irritate the hell out of her at the same time. He skillfully slowed his own roan gelding beside her.

Fari gritted her teeth again, then aimed a cool smile over her shoulder. "Cowboy, I don't need your advice. I'm now an accomplished horsewoman."

"Havin' it in your head doesn't necessarily mean you'll instantly have all the confidence you need to use it—ma'am."

"Sergeant, you're my support for this mission, not the other way around."

"Just sayin'…" The glint in his blue eyes revealed how much he enjoyed yanking her chain.

Still, she was the ranking member of this two-man team. "I sincerely hope you can manage to censor your advice once we're inside. Even if they don't know what you're talking about, that smart-ass grin you're wearing will look strange."

"Babe, don't worry about me. I'm all about the mission."

"That's 'lieutenant' to you."

"Yes, ma'am."

He said the right words, but the wink he added…

From day one, when they'd reported to the top-secret laboratory at Flagstaff, he'd been on her case.

There hadn't been much opportunity to train, only a short week. After they'd both been left drop-jawed at the news that they'd be making a jump back in time to ancient Scythia to retrieve an artifact, they'd been assigned rooms within the facility and put on lockdown. General Ashton wasn't taking any chances that word of this new mission might leak out. Rumors had it they weren't the only ones heading to Scythia, so the mission timetable had been pushed up to make sure they arrived first.

Alien creatures, the Centaurians, were eager to prevent humans from securing all the pieces of the Pleiadian medallion, to keep earthlings from fulfilling the goal of completing the medallion and opening up a channel to an intergalactic council.

Fari had wondered what military brass she'd pissed off, to get such a farcical assignment, until she'd seen for herself that the claims Professor Carswell made were true. The laboratory really did have a time machine and several missions had already recovered pieces of a powerful alien medallion.

Once convinced, she'd been eager to be on board. Excited as never before. Feeling like Neil Armstrong stepping out into a new frontier.

Caleb, on the other hand, had sunk deeper into sarcasm.

Fari shook her head. She'd been warned he was stubborn to a fault. Hell, he'd even refused Professor Carswell's offer to heal his shoulder with a piece of the medallion that had proved to have medicinal properties. He'd insisted he didn't need any woo-woo medicine to "fix what wasn't broke anymore."

Hopefully, he wouldn't need to use the damaged muscle. And there appeared to be plenty to spare beyond the shoulder that had suffered a gunshot wound.

The fact that her teammate had a physical flaw to match his less-than-perfect attitude were pluses in Fari's book. Otherwise, he might have proved a major distraction. She could well imagine the handsome Texan in a pair of faded Wranglers and a cowboy hat. And certainly, his estimation of his own worth would fill a ten-gallon hat.

Not that he hadn't earned his swagger. The number of al Qaeda terrorists he'd successfully hunted down to kill or capture in Iraq had made him a legend among the soldiers of the 1st Infantry Division.

His uncanny tracking ability didn't have a thing to do with luck, and was why he'd been paired with her for this mission.

However, he thought all she brought were her Persian heritage, which would allow her to blend with the natives, a single silver bar on her collar, and a chest full of commendations for work she could never talk about to anyone outside her tight circle.

Fari couldn't wait for a chance to knock him sideways with what she could do, and she had no doubt the opportunity would come. All six feet four inches of SFC McAvoy would make for a spectacular fall.

They crested the ridge, to find the Sea of Azov stretching to the horizon, its white-edged waves slamming the coast. The tall wooden palisade surrounding the city of Tanais was tucked along its shore at the mouth of the river by the same name.

She gave her horse a nudge. "For once, stow the banter. And it's strictly Scythian from this point forward. We can't be heard talking a language no one understands. If Centaurians are already among them, they'll make us in a heartbeat."

"Then I can't keep callin' you lieutenant, ma'am."

"True. I'll address you as Caleb."

"And what will I call you?"

"Mistress," she said, smiling sweetly.

His gaze narrowed, dropping to her mouth, then shifted over her shoulder. "Hey, sugar, we've got company." He tipped his chin to the next ridge, where two lone figures on horseback watched. Females dressed as men.

Fari pulled the battle-ax from her belt, nudged her horse in the ribs and tugged on the reins, causing the animal to rise on his hind legs. Raising the ax into the air, she gave an ululating cry.

"Didn't know I was gonna be ridin' with Xena," Caleb muttered.

When the horse's forelegs landed again, Fari cocked an eyebrow at her companion. "Remember, we were given all the knowledge we need to complete this mission when we made the jump. Even if you don't like this woo-woo stuff, trust it."

She nudged her horse again and bent low over his neck, letting the wind catch her hair as she raced toward the palisade, leaving Caleb cursing behind her.

Brand New Contest!

I love to shop. Not for clothes or shoes or groceries. My thrills come from acquiring jewelry (junky and fine), office supplies (I know there's a fetish in there somewhere), and anything of a medieval or paranormal bent. Which is precisely why I own two large jewelry boxes, why one wall of my office is crammed floor-to-ceiling with every imaginable office machine, stacks of notebooks and Post-its, and why the rest of my office has figurines and pictures of dragons, fairies, and knights cluttering up every surface.

My obsession has led to my friendship with a woman who owns a tiny specialty shop in town. She keeps an eye out for things she knows I'll dig. This week, I came home with a grocery bag full of things I bought just to share with you. I had to have them all, but I have no where to store them. So I figure that if I offer one contest a week for some really random prizes that you might poke your head in the door pretty often to see what's up, and I'll have found a use for SOMETHING I've bought!

Here's this week's prize:

The journal is covered in a short velveteen; the pages are a nice thick stock; and the image is one of two female fairies, one light and one dark, the tips of their wings interwoven. Very pretty. And very, very hard for me give up because I want it!

What do you have to do to win? Just post comments wherever I am blogging—this includes my daily blogposts that show up on Facebook. The more times you post, the better your chances to walk away with this lovely journal.

So, post a comment here and you're entered. Come visit me at Everything Erotic where I've posted a short story and you have a second chance! This contest will end next Tuesday when I'll reach into my bag for the next random prize. Good luck!

A Cluttered Mind

Today, I'm hoping that I can unclutter my office and my mind.

I have a housekeeper coming to clean my place. Does that sound like the height of decadence? It is. But she's inexpensive and a lot more thorough than I am, and when she's done, somehow, it feels cleaner than if I did the work myself. While she runs the Hoover and mops, I'll be decluttering my desk.

Not that I'll give up a single dragon or fairy figurine, or King Kong hugging his NY skyscraper, or my Cinderalla and Sleeping Beauty Pez dispensers. Those aren't clutter. They're friends. Along with the small stuffed unicorn and carved stone alligator, frog, bear, wolf and elephant, they are things I can hold in my palm and caress when I'm running into trouble with my WIP (Work in Progress). When I stroke a thumb across their surfaces, they unlock dreams like a genie's lamp.

The decluttering has to do with the stacks of papers I have laying on every surface—on the desk, the file cabinet, the printer—yes, even on the floor. I've been sick and have let more stack up than usual because I haven't been able to concentrate. But no more excuses. I have to attack the stacks, then settle down to write some pages. I have books due. I'm late. Feel free to nag!

And woot! Riding a little high this morning. A reader plopped a brand new review up on Amazon for Pleasing Sir. "…It's not Romance, though you will feel the pinch of love and desire found in some of the best of contemporary romances. This is erotica at it's finest. There is a difference, and Delilah is the master and making that clear.

And if you're inclined to hop to another blog today, I have a post on another site about my two April releases, Handy Men and Moonstruck. I'd love a comment or two or even just a wave so I don't look like a loser.

Hop on over to After Midnight Fantasies.

Sunday Report Card

It was a very sad week for me. Not a single word was written. After arriving back home from LA on Sunday with a cough, I suffered a full-blown upper respiratory thing all week accompanied by horrible fatigue. I can work with a cough; I can't create when I'm wrung out. End of story. Needless to say, I'm woefully behind on all my goals. I need to rethink my plans, which makes this my shortest report card ever.

Snippet Saturday: Characters doing something

This week's topic is characters doing something active. Get your minds out of the gutter! In my case, Shanna and Bo are dancing, and it's the start of Four Sworn. Shanna is one of my favorite heroines because even though she's very earthy, she's also innocent. She's a coltish, clumsy, vulnerable woman who won't admit to herself that Bo's "the one". Enjoy meeting Shanna and Bo as we meet them for the first time.

"…what you get is explosive, emotional and endearing, something Delilah Devlin does better than anyone…"
4 Cherries, Whipped Cream on FOUR SWORN

There's a wild child trapped inside her, and they're hell-bent on unleashing it…

As the pretty daughter of the town whore, Shanna Davies has always tried hard to toe the line. But she just can't help it. Her boyfriend, Bo Crenshaw, has lured her untamed spirit out to play once too often. It's time to get the hell out of Dodge and make a new start where no one knows her past. After she fulfills one last, wicked fantasy.

Shanna is Bo's first everything. First kiss, first sexual playmate, first love. Yet he's never managed to convince her that he accepts her—good girl and bad—just as she is. So, she wants a memorable send off? No problem. He'll give her one that'll make her think twice about leaving.

On the appointed night, Shanna expects nerves. Yet once she crosses the threshold, the prospect of surrendering to a night of unrestrained passion with Bo and the three Kinzie brothers makes her mouth water—and her courage dry up.

But she asked for it, and now she's not about to blink first in this game of sexual chicken…

Warning: Four lusty cowboys prove a little domination goes a long way in breaking a stubborn woman to saddle. Lots of spanking, binding, flogging, and double-dipping can keep a girl on her toes, her back, her belly, her knees…

"Dance with me, cowboy."

Bo Crenshaw didn't know what surprised him more. Her wanting to dance—or her asking him. She always cringed over her inability to master a simple two-step, and she usually avoided him like the plague in public.

But he wasn't arguing. It was Friday night after a long week of wrangling cattle. He wanted to replace the musky smell in his nostrils with something a whole lot sweeter. Giving his drinking buddy a shrug, he let Shanna Davies tug his hand and lead him onto the dance floor, pretending a reluctance he didn't feel.

Not that dancing with Shanna wasn't pleasurable—if a little painful. She danced the same way she lived—a little too fast and completely out of synch with everyone around her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, but her head was tilted as she peeked around his shoulder. "Let's go this way." She bumped his knees, and they scooted backward toward her destination.

He pulled in her hips to slide a knee between her lethal knobs and circled so he had a view of what had caught her attention. Eyeing one particular trio of dancers at the far edge of the parquet floor, he thought he knew what had Shanna so intensely curious.

"Get me closer," she hissed.

"What're you doin'?" he asked, his tone dry.

"Tryin' to see."

"See what?"

"Them. Oops." She ducked her head and stared at his chest. "He knows I'm watchin'."

"Who?" he asked, pretending confusion.

"Justin Cruz."

Bo leaned closer to whisper in her ear and bury his nose in her fragrant hair, feeling sure she'd allow it—seeing as how she was trying to pretend she wasn't there to spy. "How do you know he knows?"

"He winked at me." She lifted her head and gave him a glare.

Bo suppressed a grin. "You're really curious about them."

She slid her hand down to twist his nipple through his shirt, and he winced.

"Don't make fun of me." She blew out a deep breath, frustration turning down the corners of her mouth. "Most exciting thing to happen around these parts, a real ménage à trois, and I can't get close enough to see."

"See what?"

She shrugged. "I'd like to see how they all dance together like that. For starters."

Bo chuckled, and then hissed when she twisted his nipple again. He'd be bruised. Worth it, though. He'd missed holding her close.

"Oh hell, they're leaving. You wanna get outta here?" she whispered.

Bo grunted and pulled her tall, slender body closer, rubbing his belly against hers. "You want to see if they do it in the parking lot, or are you horny? Thought you said we weren't gonna do that anymore—use each other." He ground out the last because the way she'd described their last sexual rendezvous still stuck in his craw.

Shanna grimaced in dismay but her brown eyes glittered with humor. "Did I make it sound that way? I'm sorry," she said, her tone anything but apologetic. "It's not that the sex isn't great, but…"

He couldn't help his impatient snort. "I know. You're blowin' this town as soon as you have the cash." Bo turned around on the floor again, fighting her for the lead and winning. He danced them into the darkest corner of the dance floor. "Hell, see what you did now?" he grumbled, pushing her hand down to the front of his blue jeans.

She cupped his erection, running her palm up and down his length, and then tossed back her dark honey-colored curls. Her laughter was low and dirty. "Guess since it's my fault, I should do something about it, shouldn't I?"

"Promises, promises," he muttered, acting like he wasn't so excited his head and heart were pounding faster and heavier than the band. "You bring a purse?"

"Do I ever?"

"Then let's go."

He dropped his arms and resisted the urge to snag her hand inside his. They walked out of the bar and into the gravel parking lot, making a beeline for his truck—but not before she'd darted a glance around the rows of vehicles for the threesome's vehicle.

When her shoulders sagged, Bo opened the cab door. "Hop up."

As he climbed in behind the steering wheel, she raked a hand through her hair. "We don't have to go far."

"You in a hurry?" He turned the key and the engine rumbled to life, growling like he wanted to. He was pretty sure Shanna was right there with him by the way she clenched together her thighs.

"Don't be a shit," she said, punching his arm.

He let a grin slide across his face. "Sweetheart, I know just the place."

* * * * *

Bo gave Shanna a quick kiss then slid all the way inside her, sighing as her moist heat enveloped him. It had been far too long since the last time she'd succumbed to her natural urges and begged him for a quick "dick-fix".

Her legs wrapped around his hips and hugged him so hard he had to thrust a couple of times to remind her to give him a little room to move.

As he got down to work, his cock rocking inside her lava-hot little channel, he blessed his Boy Scout training for his foresight to stuff a thick blanket behind the seat of his truck. It gave him just enough padding beneath his knees to keep him comfortable and to shield Shanna's back from the cooling metal.

"This workin' for ya?" He tried to sound nonchalant when what he really wanted to do was let out a whoop it felt so good.

She gave him a coy look from beneath her lashes. "You needin' a little praise?"

She lifted her head and scooped his mouth with hers, fluttering her tongue over his bottom lip until he growled and consumed her like a bear dipping into a honey jar. She giggled into his mouth, and he pulled back, making a face. Moonlight shone so bright he could see the gleeful humor digging dimples deep into her cheeks.

He frowned. "Do you know what it does to a man when he's balls-deep and the girl starts laughin'?"

Which only made Shanna laugh harder. "Since you're not wiltin' beneath the disrespect, I'm not gonna feel sorry for you."

Bo gave a rumbling groan and tunneled deeper into her slick heat, every inch of his dick surrounded by her gently rippling channel. They grew silent, their bodies straining together.

Then, "You don't think what they're doin' is dirty, do ya?" she asked, her tone far too conversational, considering how much effort he was exuding.

He knew how her mind worked and what had precipitated this hot little interlude, but he still couldn't resist the urge to tease. "Who?" he asked, stroking deeper and cupping her butt with his palms as he powered into her.

"Dani and her two fellas."

"Long as they aren't hurtin' anyone else, I say let 'em be."

"I'm envious as hell," she groaned.

"Woman," he growled. "How the hell can you hold a thought?"

"I'm a girl. My brains don't flee south at the first sign of pussy."

Bo's bark of laughter ended in another groan. "Hush. Talk in a minute."

"A little overconfident, aren't you?" she quipped, but she was gasping now too.

Holding her against him, he rolled.

Shanna tossed back her wavy hair and gave him a look that bespoke challenge and arousal. A heady mix as she drove her slender body downward then ground against the crinkly curls at the base of his cock. Up again, she went, moonlight gleaming on the sweat coating her small breasts.

When he'd been a teenager, he'd ogled the women in his daddy's Playboys, but he'd been hooked on Shanna's little "fried eggs" since the first time she'd bared them in a dare. They'd still been middle school virgins.

"Now, don't you tease me," a thirteen-year-old Shanna had whispered, when he'd double-dared her into it, her hands shielding her chest after she'd let him pull her shirt up.

"Scout's honor, I won't," he'd said, so hard and excited he'd have spent himself in his jeans if she'd so much as rubbed against him.

Even now, when her hands cupped her little breasts and her eyelids slid closed, he thought her breasts were just about perfect.

"Ever think about…" She bit her lip and ground down his cock again, a little faster and harder, and he knew she was still thinking about the trio everyone in Two Mule, Texas couldn't stop talking about.

"Ever think about what?"

Her gaze went skyward. "About doing it with another guy?"

His derisive snort brought her attention back. He gave her a scowl.

She snickered. "I didn't mean it that way. I mean doing a girl with another guy."

"Why stop at just two?" he asked, liking the conversation because he'd never seen her so hot, and moisture was seeping faster as she thought about her wicked little fantasy.

"Lord, Bo," she moaned, swirling her hips, screwing him sweetly. "You shouldn't say things like that. My legs are shakin'."

"Need me to take over?" he murmured.

"Would you? I know you've had a hard day at the ranch, but…"

"Honey, I'm never too tired for this. Not when it's you."

He could have kicked himself for that last bit. In all the years they'd snuck away to play, he'd never let her see how much she meant to him, sensing she'd shy away like a nervous filly, and he couldn't have that. If all they ever had was this, this strange, sexy friendship, then he'd savor every minute.

He rolled with her again, his hands slipping beneath her ass to cup her close. "Now, do you think we might concentrate for just a second or two? And yeah, I'm bein' overconfident again."

She grinned and slid her hands down his belly, past where their bodies joined and cupped his balls.

"Take that hand away, baby. I'm ready to come."

"Ready to go all Terminator on my pussy?"

He gave her a sexy roll of his hips, circling inside her. "I'm not out to demolish. I just want what's mine."

Her hands tugged his balls gently. "Think this pussy's yours?"

"Is someone else's dick divin' deep inside you?"

"Gawddamn, cowboy, I love it when you talk dirty."

"You're the one with the potty mouth," he said, giving her an openmouthed kiss. He pulled back because she was massaging his balls, and he was quickly getting lost in the sensations building inside him. "Shanna?"

"Yeah, stud?"

"Take that hand away so I can fuck you raw."

"Tell me more," she said giving his sac another gentle pull then slipping her hand from between them. "Whatcha gonna do to me?"

He gritted his teeth. "Can't think. Wanna go wild on your ass and hammer until you're flyin' apart—so wet and hot and close that you can't do anything more than squeal and bleat like a pink little pig."

She wrinkled her nose. '"Cowboy, you tryin' to spoil the mood? That's so not sexy."

"It is from up here," he said dropping his voice to a purr. "I like your piggy squeals."

"I'm gonna kick your ass."

"Not until after I fuck your pussy raw." He thrust harder, cramming his swelling cock through tissue so hot and wet he thought he'd lose his mind.

Her eyes widened, and her fingernails dug into his ass. "Bo?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Now! Do it now!" Her back arched off the truck bed, and her head dug into the blanket.

He withdrew all the way, re-centered his cock, and slammed home, not stopping until he felt the end of her channel and bounced against her cervix. He knew what that was because he'd been as avid a sex-ed student as she'd been. They'd both peeled off their clothes to explore and name of every part in high school—and they'd both gotten As.

With her eyes squeezing shut, and her moan tightening to that sexy-as-hell little squeal, he let loose, hammering her over and over until the pressure in his balls released. He shouted, come spurting deep inside her. Then chest heaving, he landed on top of her.

Her hands stroked over his back, gliding in his sweat.

"That would be just plain greedy, don't you think?" she said softly

This time, it took a second for him to recall the thread of conversation they'd dropped somewhere between the heavy thrusting. "If it's not hurtin' anyone…"

"I wouldn't want it to be a permanent thing," she said, her voice sounding dreamy. "I don't think I could be as strong as Dani."

"You think she has to be strong to have two men?"

"She has to be strong to put up with havin' everyone talkin' about her business. You should hear how the old biddies at the beauty shop skewer Dani Cruz. Even at church. Sanctimonious bitches."

Bo dragged in a deep breath and came up on his elbows so he could watch her face. "You're really curious about it, aren't you?"

Her gaze slid away from his to where she curled a finger in the hair above his ears. "It's just a fantasy. Gets me hot."

His lips twitched. "I couldn't tell. What if I told you there might be a way to satisfy that itch without anyone ever knowin'?"

She gave his hair a tiny yank and stared up at him. "I'd say you're a horrible tease, and now I'm completely horny again just thinkin' about the possibility. You did it on purpose, didn't you? Just 'cause I said we shouldn't have sex again."

He reached up to pull her fingers away from his head and kept them cupped inside his hand. "I'm not teasing. I have a solution. Guess it just depends on if you've got the guts."

She bit her bottom lip. "No one would ever know?"

"Just those there. And the guys I'm thinkin' of don't gossip."

Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"

Gotcha, babe. "Ever hear of Chrissi Page gettin' naked and fuckin' three guys under the bleachers during halftime at the homecoming game?"

"No." Her eyes widened. "Prissy Chrissi? Really?"

He nodded.

Her eyes widened. "Were you one of those boys?"

"And if I was?" He'd been there but hadn't been one of the three havin' a go, but she didn't need to know that.

A frown dug a line between her brows. "I never would have put you with her. You said she wasn't your type."

Bo bit the tip of her nose, embarrassed now to admit his part. "She wasn't when she thought she was too good for anyone around here."

"How'd you ever talk her into it?"

He hadn't, but he gave her a wicked waggle of his eyebrows. "Now, I've already said too much."

"You just tryin' to get me hot enough for another round," she muttered.

"And if I am?"

"Just remember, I ain't marryin' you, Bo."

"Did I ask?"

"No, but people see us together too often, they'll start makin' plans. And I already have plans."

Bo ground his hips against hers, dragging his slackening cock around and around her pussy. "No one will know about us," he said softly. "No one will start sendin' out wedding invitations. And I really can give you one hot-as-hell night. You game?"

Her teeth bit into her lush bottom lip as she studied his expression. "Who's your posse?"

He lifted his eyebrows, telling her silently that she ought to already know.

"You talkin' about the boys at the Triple X?" She stared. "Holy cow."

He could tell from the hitch in her breathing that the idea appealed.

"But why would they go for it, with me, I mean? I'm not…like Chrissi."

"Don't you dare say you aren't pretty enough."

"I'm okay, but they're…" She blew out a breath between pursed lips. "Let's just say there's not a woman in Two Mule, except maybe Dani Cruz, who hasn't thought about tryin' to lasso one of 'em. How you gonna ask them?"

"Leave it up to me."

Shanna swallowed hard. "Why would you do this for me?"

He gave her a one-sided smile, aching inside to tell her the truth, but settled for, "What're best friends for?"

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

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

Selena Blake

Mari Carr

Taige Crenshaw

McKenna Jeffries

Lissa Matthews

TJ Michaels

Shelli Stevens

Jody Wallace

A Picture Prompt

You all know I love using a visual to get the old gray matter firing. I saw this truck in a parking lot. Loved the name of the business and his slogan! So tell me what sort of adventures Nick the Plumber might get up to!

Pics from Romantic Times in LA!

Although I was sick for most of the conference last week, I did manage to stir from my room to meet friends. It's the best part of conference, seeing old friends and making new ones. Here are some of my favorite pics.

Of course, I had to meet the man on my Moonstruck cover, Jimmy Thomas. This was his display at the booksigning on Saturday. You can see Moonstruck on the upper right corner!

I shot this after one of the panel discussions I participated in. In the picture are my BFF Kimberly Kaye Terry and the fabulous L.A. Banks!

More KKT and me! Doesn't she look amazing?!

L.A. at the booksigning!

Just to prove it's not all female authors at RT! I bought Jeremy's book, Hungry for Love—what can I say? I can't get enough of zombies!

The promo princesses themselves, Megan Hart and Lauren Dane!

I sat next to the very sweet and funny, HelenKay Dimon at the booksigning!

Richelle Mead is signing Frostbite for me!

Another very sweet lady—Taige Crenshaw!

You never know who you're gonna meet at conference. Here's my beta-buddy, Virginia E taking a pic of me while I'm taking a pic of her!

Virginia without the camera.

Kimmie with the rockin' Vivia Anna!

Guest Blogger: Shayla Kersten

A Flash of Long Black Hair…

Story inspiration can strike in the strangest places. The other day at the nail salon, I saw a young Asian woman with the most gorgeous long black hair. I mean the kind of hair only seen in commercials. Almost blue-black, high shine, and down to her hips, her beautiful tresses tempted my poor fingers to reach out and touch. Just to see if her hair felt as sexy as it looked.

I couldn't get the idea of the unbelievable beauty of her hair out of my mind. So of course, a story started forming.

Like a song you can't banish from your mind, sometimes a flash of inspiration refuses to leave you alone. While the story isn't complete, the basic set up is in my list of stories to write. Definitely another lesbian vampire story. *cackle*

Songs or music videos are another great inspiration for my stories. A Familiar Taste of Poison by Halestorm hit me several ways. First the title. I wish I'd thought of that one! Then there's the lyrics—

I breathe you in again

Just to feel you underneath my skin

Holding onto the sweet escape

Is always laced with a familiar taste of poison

Finally, there's the video. I mean…just wow. Fabulous visuals. Great film noir look and feel. An entire murder mystery in four minutes.

A lot of Halestorm's lyrics strike a chord with me. No pun intended. I think I could write an entire series inspired by their music.

Friends are another source of inspiration, especially if they are also writers. I don't mean writing about their lives. Although Delilah's life would make for a very interesting book. *wink*

Brainstorming can start with a single word or a simple premise. Back and forth banter blossoms into stories. Delilah is one of the best at brainstorming. She's pulled me out of several plot holes.

Then there's the random stray thought, like the one that inspired my latest story, Consensual Infidelity.

What would you do if you found out your boyfriend were bisexual?

Would you run away as fast as your feet could carry you? Accept it but agree that part of his sexuality should stay hidden? Or would you actively pursue his fantasy of being with a man—then join in?

You can probably guess what Denise Wilder did in Consensual Infidelity. And boy, do they have fun!

Sometimes, a great story comes out of a combination of all of the above. For instance, a bisexual Asian woman murdered in the early 20th century who is resurrected as a vampire. Now I need a little help from my friends to fill in the plot holes! *grins*

Thanks, Delilah, for letting me ramble on about inspiration!

Consensual Infidelity—now available at Amazon.com

A Question (and contest deadline extended!)

I woke up late! Probably needed the extra sleep because I came back from conference with an ugly cough. However, it means I'll have to wait to post those pictures from the conference until Thursday (I have a guest blogger tomorrow).

Thanks to everyone who sent me links to reviews/comments about Moonstruck! We still need more buzz, so we're going to give everyone time to read the story before you review or post the cover and blurb on your blog site. The end date of the contest will be extended until April 30th. You have plenty of time to enter!

If you like this sort of collaboration, please let us know. Sis and I tend to goad each other along to get things done. It could mean more of the stories you like sooner.

In the meantime, let's talk…

Babe Ruth, James Dean, Elvis Presley…

If you could bring back any deceased superstar for one final performance

in their respective field, whom would you choose?