Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 534

Flashback: Four Sworn (Contest!)

If you post a comment today, you'll be in the running

for a free download of this book!

Four Sworn has been nominated for Best Erotic Romance (Non-Traditional Lifestyle) in 2010!

But it needs your vote to win! Here's the link to the page. Be sure to check out the list of all the nominees in all their wonderful categories, then go vote for Delilah's!

The Romance Reviews Voting Page

"…what you get is explosive, emotional and endearing, something Delilah Devlin does better than anyone…" Whipped Cream Reviews

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 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."

A Question…

I woke up to find my Microsoft Outlook email program broken. After a few minutes of panic, I navigated Bill Gate's site to find a fix. It's taking FOREVER to run, and I'm not really in the mood to be creative or funny today!

So, how about one of my "getting to know you" questions?

Everyone hears discussions that they consider boring.

What topic can put you to sleep more quickly than any other?

Sunday Report Card

This morning I'm heading to Little Rock to meet with Shayla Kersten to nail down the details for a public presentation our local RWA chapter is doing at the library where we meet. The topic is, "So you think you want to write?" We have the program, all the media stuff, etc. to figure out. It will be the third Sunday in April, so if anyone lives nearby, put it on your calendar!

This week was hectic. A mild word. The red-headed hellion took a part-time job and I took over babysitting while she was at work. I've decided I will pay her to stay at home. She came home the second day and her jaw fell to the floor. She couldn't understand how her house got so messy. I couldn't understand how two children could be so bad. Still, I did manage to get some work done.

* I completed Handy Men (tentative title), a quickie for Ellora's Cave, and shipped it to my editor—and yes, it's about a threesome. These days I can't conceive of a love story that doesn't have multiple men in it. One of those dudes has to stay home to help take care of the kids—my heroine's not going to have the energy to do it by herself!

* I completed Chapter Five of Cat Tails: Bad Moon Rising. I sent it to my webmistress for her to format it and get it up on my site. I'll let you know as soon as it's ready for you to read.

* I'm making great headway on my BDSM novella. The hero's an ex-military cop and sexy as hell. I don't want to finish it too soon, because then I'd have to say goodbye to Cross McNally.

* I worked with a web designer to put together the template for the Girls Who Bite website. It's done, now the art will be passed to my webmistress for her to complete the work.

Not a shabby week, huh?

This next week, I do have to finish that BDSM novella, no matter how much I'll miss Cross and his growly voice. Then I'll dive into the next project. Something Urban Fantasy. I have this idea about a girl and her… Yeah, sooo not telling you.

Snippet Saturday: Openers

The winner of the Jimmy Thomas calendar is named at the bottom of this post! Thanks, everyone, for playing! ~DD

One of my favorite openings was the easiest to write. Newscasts of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina were so very detailed that I sank into these opening pages and pretty much wrote it in a day (with tons of revision, of course, later!). You meet the hero right up front. Then you meet the villain of the piece, and he's murky and frightening, but you see him from poor Nic's point of view and learn the horror of who the villain really is. The Dark Realm stories are among my own personal favorites. They were tough to write and I cursed my way through the whole experience, but in the end, I had a quartet of books of the sort I love to read. Not a bad legacy.

"…The electrifying follow-up to INTO THE DARKNESS is a breathless read. Devlin's intricate vampire society is filled with compelling personalities. The chemistry between the characters is explosive, and the horrific villain will give you goosebumps…the ending will leave you begging for more." 4 ½ Stars and TOP PICK!, RT BOOKreviews

"…This is a deliciously edgy series with mind-blowing sex scenes that sizzle…Ms. Devlin's DARK REALM series is devastatingly erotic and pushes the boundaries in both premise and sexual explicitness. Ms. Devlin pens in uncharted territory that will leave the readers breathless and hungering for more…" Paranormal Romance

For eight hundred years Nicolas Montfaucon has dedicated his life to preventing the rebirth of an immortal evil. But now a terrible storm has assaulted unsuspecting New Orleans—and the beast walks the earth once more. "The Devourer" has been awakened, and there is only one in the besieged city who can help Nicolas defeat the foul creature—a mysterious and beautiful enigma who haunts the handsome Revenant's erotic waking dreams and enflames his passionate obsessions.

Chessa Tomas is not an ordinary policewoman. A vampire, she works only at night, patrolling a seamy and unseen underworld of roiling chaos. Though Nicolas is sensuality incarnate, Chessa wants no part of him or his kind—but she cannot close her eyes to the unholy malevolence that would consume their world. And Nicolas has uncovered the secret lust that rules her—a steaming, uncontrollable desire he intends to unleash, bending Chessa to his will by making her most forbidden fantasies real.

His brother had thought Hell a fiery abyss, but Nicolas Montfaucon knew better. It was wet, smelled like a sewer, and sounded like the rush of collective hopes draining toward the sea.

With a heartbeat as leaden as his footfalls, he followed the sound of flowing water. His rubber boots sank in the rain-soaked grass as he stepped off the cemetery's entrance road to head toward the water's edge. Bayou St. John's previous sluggish ambience had given way to a torrent in the aftermath of the storm. Just as the security team had reported, the waters that breached the levee in the early morning hours spilled into the bayou, raising it well above any thousand-year flood plain.

They couldn't have planned for a worse scenario. The mausoleum lay in the center of a newly etched basin.

A cold, tight knot of horror settled in his gut, numbing him to the elements, while a soft rain fell like God's kiss of benediction before the coming battle. The prickling unease lifting the hair on the back of his neck was familiar, but one he hadn't experienced to this degree since the searing heat and biting sand of Palestine over seven hundred years ago.

Quiet, muffled voices drew him deeper into the cemetery. He followed the blurred edges of a once pristine graveled path, now strewn with long tangled strands of Spanish moss and broken tree branches, around sturdy stone crypts—ones untouched by the raging storm that had drenched New Orleans and changed its landscape irrevocably.

He glanced toward the dark gray clouds giving his team cover for what they must do. At least God hadn't added one more insurmountable burden to overcome this day.

"Erika, Pasqual?" he called softly as he approached.

They turned with dread tightening their pale faces.

He noted their quick sideways glances and knew their loyalties might be tested. Just the night before one quarry had escaped their net. Did they know his role in the deception that had allowed the newest Born female to flee?

"The crypt is submerged," Pasqual said, nodding ahead toward the swollen bayou.

Nicolas followed his gaze and found the winged angel that graced the top of the Morel mausoleum, the bottom edge of her robe licked by foaming, lapping waves of dark water.

"We brought a pirogue," Erika said, shivering despite the humid heat, "but the water's so swift…"

Nicolas nodded. "I'll go. We'll have to tie off the boat on both sides of the bayou to keep it from being swept away."

"The crypt was solid. The doors were chained," Pasqual said, his voice strained. "Do you really think he could have escaped?"

Nicolas's lips curved and tightened. "His sarcophagus was in the center of the cemetery. The bayou jumped its banks and carved a new path—straight through his prison. Do you think that's coincidental?"

Erika's brown eyes looked overlarge in her slender face. "How will we contain him?"

"If the doors are still locked, we'll wait for the waters to subside to discover whether his coffin remains intact."

"If they aren't locked?" she continued.

He shrugged. "Then we prepare ourselves."

"How do we do that?" she asked, a note of hysteria in her brittle voice. "No one's got a standard operating procedure for the end of the fucking world."

"Someone has to go into the water," Pasqual said quietly, his expression dark and troubled.

"I said I'll go," Nicolas said, straightening his shoulders. "I placed him there. It's my duty to make sure he stays."

"Not alone, you won't."

Nicolas turned at the sound of another voice, one familiar and welcome.

A tall dark-clad figure stepped from behind a large oak.

Nicolas wondered if he'd just arrived or had chosen the most dramatic moment to appear. Simon Jameson's long brown hair was plastered against his skull and touched the tops of broad shoulders clothed in a rain slicker.

"Simon, bad news travels fast," Nicolas said, his tone dry.

Despite the dire circumstance that brought him here, Simon smiled. "A little bird told me we had trouble."

Nicolas raised a single brow at the thought of the mage's familiar braving the remnants of the storm. "Her wings must be sodden."

Simon's lips crimped in the semblance of a smile. "She's tired and drying off." Then his gaze turned to the sunken crypt. "I'll go with you. You may have need of me."

"I'll be glad for the company." Whatever the reason for the falling out between the powerful mage and the leader of the vampire sabat, Nicolas held no grudge against Simon. Their acquaintance was older, forged in blood and battle. "I'd appreciate any help you can provide."

Sloshing footsteps sounded behind them as more of the security team arrived, carrying a long, slender flat-bottomed boat and poles.

Using ropes suspended between the trees, Simon and Nicolas fought the swift current to drag the boat toward the stone angel. Once the boat scraped the spikes atop the iron fence surrounding the crypt, Nicolas stripped, dropping his clothing to the bottom of the boat. Then he tied a rope around his waist and said a quick prayer.

"Hold this in your mouth," Simon said, slipping a carved, polished red stone from his pocket. "You'll need your hands free."

Nicolas didn't question why he should keep a rock in his mouth. If his friend thought it necessary, that was enough for him to know. Likely a protective amulet, anyway. He could use all the help he could get.

Urgency and dread filled him. He had to see the damage below the surface of the black water for himself. He set the cold stone on top of his tongue and clamped his mouth closed. Then he lowered himself over the side of the boat, gripping it hard, shocked by the force of the water dragging at his body. Nicolas clutched the edge of the pirogue and shot Simon a glance.

The mage stood in the bottom of the boat, coiling the rope around his brawny fists and arms, and nodded. "Catch hold of the iron bars, and I'll let out the rope."

Out of instinct, rather than need, Nicolas drew in a deep breath through his nostrils and submerged. The dark water roiled around him, battering him with stones and debris. He forced open his eyes against the current and grimy sediments, but could see only a few inches in front of his face.

For long seconds he held his breath then made himself relax against the urge to gasp. He didn't really need the air to live.

The current slammed him against the iron bars surrounding the crypt. He held tight then circled the fence, handhold by handhold, until he felt the gate's hinges. With his feet against the gate, he bent his legs and made a powerful thrust, which propelled him forward in the eddying waters, toward the door of the crypt.

He reached out, grabbing for the carved edge of the stone door frame and followed it downward to the latch. Where a heavy chain should have wrapped around the mechanism, he found only a drooping handle, bobbing with the current.

Still, the door was closed.

He braced his feet against it and pulled with all his strength to bend the handle upward and lock it closed until he could return with another chain.

At that moment, a dull pounding came from inside, then a powerful thrust slammed open the door, tossing him backward into the current, which swept him toward the gate.

Despite the murky water, he saw a pale, ghostly apparition appear in the entrance of the crypt.

Sweet Mother of God! Nicolas bit down around the stone that threatened to lodge at the back of his throat.

The monster swam in the doorway, his mouth opening in a hideous grin.

Nicolas ground his heels against the iron bars and pushed forward again, launching himself toward the demon to drive him back inside. If he had to hold him there for an eternity, he'd never let him out. He'd uphold his oath—one given over the grisly remains of his wife.

When he barreled into the demon, the creature's body felt…less than solid…gelatinous. The pale flesh gave way beneath Nicolas's grasping hands. His torso disintegrated in rotten bits of flesh, tugged apart by the rapid current.

Nicolas screamed around the stone while his hand reached through the disintegrating body to grasp the demon's spinal cord.

The beast's face remained solid for only a moment longer while his grin turned triumphant, mocking Nicolas, before the skin stripped away to reveal a skeletal grimace.

Nicolas squeezed his eyes shut as he let go his fierce grip on what remained of the demon's prison, his body, trying to forget the familiar face the monster had stolen and worn for centuries—his brother's.

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

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

Emma Petersen

Jody Wallace

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Selena Blake

Shelli Stevens

Taige Crenshaw

TJ Michaels

The winner of the sexy Jimmy Thomas calendar is…leanne! Congrats, leanne! And make sure you email me with your snail mail address!

Get "Wild & Wicked" with me!

I'm extending my contest to win that lovely calendar by one day. Tomorrow, the winner will be announced. But today, you have a second chance to enter to win. Join me at Wild & Wicked Cowboys and post a comment—and we're having a little fun with the calendar pic…

Win a sexy calendar!

Exhaustion hit me last night about eight P.M. I pulled too many later nighters wrapping up some February projects. The problem now is that it's five in the morning and I'm wide awake!

Oh, and those projects? Well, one of them is my part in a four-author anthology that I will do my best to get onto Kindle this month for you. Something paranormal-ish. My story features a favorite character from the Immortal Knight series—it's the dark and brooding Moses Brown's happy ever after!

I also sent a quickie, one on the longish side, so you'll have no complaints there (not that you ever grouse!), tentatively entitled Handy Men. My Ellora's Cave editor has promised to push it through quickly, so hopefully you'll have that one soon too.

And I know you'll be excited to know that I have written the latest installment in our Cat Tails story—you know, the one you all have been helping me plot. Poor DiDi is about to find herself in deep doo-doo, but not just yet. Mason has her purring in this chapter.

NOW I can officially start on my March goals—another Lonestar Cowboy, a short urban fantasy, and a BDSM story. Yeah, plenty to keep me busy and burning more of that midnight oil.

In the meantime, I have something sexy to give away. A 2011 calendar chock-full of manly goodness. Post a comment today, and it could be yours!

Guest Blogger: Michelle Polaris

See the bottom of this post for the name of yesterday's winner!

Erotic Romance – Life Affirming

by Michelle Polaris

My mind is on babies and the miracle of birth. My sister, bless her soul, just had her third little boy. She has three now under the age of four. Oy! And although I've heard the advice to avoid the subject of children in erotic romance for the mood killer it may be, I made a decision to throw that advice out the window in my last release. In all truth, no actual babies appeared in my story, but the subject of fertility and the goal of becoming parents were explicit in the plot.

I believe the sexiest erotic romance involves deep emotional bonds between the characters, and authenticity behind the painful struggles and incredible emotional risks those characters must take together. Children and the commitment they symbolize are a loaded risk. But they provide one of the greatest sources of hope imaginable. And hope translates to a sense of future. If I want to create a story where one feels my characters standing on the precipice of their future, balancing, eagerly or fearfully reaching out despite their risk of falling, dangling a baby out there in front of them does the trick.

Throw in the fact that I write BDSM erotic romance and this may seem strange. But I firmly believe BDSM story lines are an awesome opportunity to explore honest communication and vulnerability between characters. And, hey, kinky people have children too.

Putting aside that twist, am I the only one who feels this way about the subject of babies in erotic romance? How have they worked or not worked for you as you've read stories touching on this issue?

Check out my newest release, Fettered Love, at Ellora's Cave to see if I've managed to pull off this idea without killing the sexy, kinky, tantalizing pull between my three characters. My novella is part of the 1-800-DOM-help series new to EC—BDSM at it's best from a group of talented Ellora's Cave authors.

Kirk, Master to his long-time lover Evan, decides it's time to place his permanent collar around Evan's sexy cock. But when he proposes, he faces a surprise. Evan wants a child. So where will they find a kinky woman to help?

A mysterious card with the 1 -800-DOM-help number advertises assistance for unusual problems in the BDSM community. When Evan calls, he recognizes the voice of Sarah—Kirk's best friend from childhood, Evan's Mistress of several years in college. They both loved her and suffered betrayal when she walked out of their lives.

Now she proposes to be the mother of their child. No strings, just a chance to have the men she respects and loves back in her life. Evan embraces the idea while Kirk rages with mistrust.

At Evan's request, they share one night of passion, Kirk and Sarah working together to dominate Evan in the scene of his erotic fantasies, hoping it will be enough to rekindle trust and make all their dreams come true.

Safe, sane and consensual,

Michelle Polaris

The winner of yesterday's prize is…Sarah M! Congrats, Sarah, and be sure to send me an email to collect your prize!

Flashback: Jane's Wild Weekend

If you post a comment today, you'll be in the running

for a free download of this book!

Hard to believe, but once upon a time I didn't think I knew how to write a contemporary love story. No fangs? No space pirates? You mean, I would have to write about the characters and not the whizz-bang stuff? Well, fortunately for you, I figured out I've been doing that all along. Strip away the gadgets and the woo-woo and you concentrate on the love story. What happens in bed is the story, because sometimes, that's where people fall in love.

"…Delilah Devlin is well known for her personable characters and intense storylines and she certainly doesn't disappoint with JANE'S WILD WEEKEND!…This story had me smiling, tearing up, worried and wanting to hug them all…This is a wonderful heartfelt story that's as exciting as it is emotional. A perfect combination in my opinion." 5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

"…JANE'S WILD WEEKEND was a sinful page turning delight!!…The sex is hot!!!!!!! I highly recommend this book if you are looking for something different that is fun to read and has some wonderful characters. Ms. Devlin's books continue to be favorites of mine." 4.5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Jane wants Bruno…Bruno wants Cord…Cord wants Jane…but can everyone get what they really want?

Jane, fresh from a breakup, decides to seduce Bruno, one of the firemen next door, to restore her shattered confidence. But the trap she sets is sprung instead by his best friend, Cord. After she flees in embarrassment, Bruno makes a proposition too wicked for any good girl to consider, but how can she refuse the chance at not one, but two strapping firemen?

Bruno's shared women with Cord before, but decides to use Cord's attraction to Jane to break down his defenses for the ultimate threesome. Cord thinks he knows how this little tryst will go down, but he's seduced into allowing Bruno intimacies this hetero guy has never before considered.

Note for Readers: You must be of legal age in your country of origin to read this excerpt.

Cord nearly groaned he was so relieved he hadn't somehow blown it. Sliding deep into Jane's sexy body had become an obsession. He braced his hands on either side of her shoulders, lifted his torso off hers, and slowly settled his knees between her thighs. "Put me inside you," he whispered.

A soft, thin moan sifted between her lips and she slowly slipped a hand between their bodies, her fingers gliding between their quivering bellies to wrap around his cock. With their gazes tangling, she pushed him between her folds, pausing to rub the tip against her slick clit then pressed him downward until he prodded her opening.

Cord groaned and rocked his hips forward, shoving into her silky slit and driving deep.

Jane's breath rushed out. Her mouth opened, but no sound escaped. Her knees rose on either side of him and she tilted her pelvis, giving him a straight shot, giving him permission to stroke deep and hard.

Cord gritted his teeth, wanting to savor the feel of her wet walls closing around him, wanted to wallow in the gentle convulsions sucking at his cock, pulling him inside. He wanted to be gentle, to get it right, but her hot, wet heat was doing a number on his self-control and he flexed and stroked deep and sure, his buttocks quickly picking up momentum.

He held himself above her, the muscles in his arms and backs thickening, defining, as a primal satisfaction, a need to mark and prove ownership, was fulfilled with each steady stroke. Sweat broke on his face and chest, and he dipped down to rub it on her breasts, growling when her nipples stabbed and she pressed closer.

Slipping one hand beneath her ass, he gathered her up. He crawled closer on his knees to gain leverage and power then shortened his strokes, banging against the open, soaked cradle of her thighs. The bed creaked, the headboard thudded. The sound only added to his growing excitement.

"God, Cord, harder…" Jane gritted out, her face flushing a deeper rose, perspiration beading on her upper lip. Her arms swept around him, her hands clutched his back, her fingernails digging into his skin.

Cord grunted, shifted his knees again and pounded, setting the bed rocking forward and back. He didn't care if he knocked out chunks of drywall, he wasn't stopping now, couldn't slow down, couldn't hold back.

Her pussy squeezed around him, long, rhythmic caresses that slid along his shaft, buttery cream churned up by the motion of his hips and the steady, quickening thrusts of his cock.

The bed dipped beside them and Cord stiffened, pausing mid-stroke to aim a killing glare at Bruno, who smiled and lifted a tube of gel, a short braided leather flogger and a blindfold.

Jane's desperate gaze swung toward Bruno and a soft, pained laugh gusted from her thinned lips. "Your timing sucks." Her hands tightened on Cord's back for a moment, and then she lay back and let them fall to the mattress beside her as she drew deep, shattered breaths.

Cord pulled away, angry, frustrated, wanting to curse and throw Bruno out of the room, but his arousal pulsed—a current of sensual curiosity and heightening tension sweeping through him.

He didn't like that Bruno's return sparked his interest. But he wasn't going to fight it. Jane lay pliant, sweating, her breath rasping. Bruno's hot gaze swept her body, lingering on her spiked nipples, then clung to the sight of her pussy—wet, open, white streaks of her honeyed arousal glistening on her parted folds.

"Really think she needs the blindfold?" Cord growled.

Bruno's lips twisted. "No, but you do, buddy."

February Wrap-up

February was certainly more productive than January for me.

The high points of the month were:

* I wrote and submitted two new proposals for Cleis anthologies to follow up Girls Who Bite (which releases in September).

* I wrote a novella, which will be part of an anthology that will include stories written by Sasha White, Charlene Teglia and my sis, Myla Jackson.

* I wrote the rough draft of a second novella, which will go to Ellora's Cave as soon as I complete one last round of edits.

* I have completed 23% of a second novella headed to Ellora's Cave that will be part of the 1-800-Dom-Help series.

* I completed copy edits of Enslaved by a Viking (releases October 2011 by Berkley).

* I completed first round edits of The Warrior's Touch (releases May 2011 by Harlequin).

In retrospect, I shouldn't beat myself up that I didn't finish every blame thing I wanted in February. It was a good month.

In March, I hope to accomplish the following:

* Complete my 1-800-Dom-Help novella for Ellora's Cave.

* Write a novella for another Kindle anthology.

* Write the sequel to True Heart for Samhain.

Motivation Monday

It's Monday morning after a very busy night—4.8 earthquake with a 3.something aftershock—tornado watch and thunderstorms—visitors at three AM escaping the storm and slipping into my bed because I make everyone feel safe. And yet, I do feel refreshed.

It's another week and another run at my stories. I have so much to wrap up. Wish me luck!

This week, I think I'll do a flashback giveaway; Michelle Polaris guests on Wednesday, and I have a yummy new Jimmy Thomas calendar to give away. But more about that on Thursday.

Today's horoscope? (Just because it's been so much fun lately for me!)

"Career matters, or perhaps matters involving independent work which you do on your own, should move smoothly and successfully today, bringing a lot of satisfaction your way. Others are likely to admire the results of your efforts…"

Wouldn't that be nice?