Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 535

Contest ending!

I'm baaaack! The conference was worthwhile for the connections I made and the friendships I renewed, but I am soooo glad to be away from California pollen! I have pictures, but have to unpack to get to my camera. I'll do that today, so stop by tomorrow for a peek!

Just a reminder—today's the last day you can buy Moonstruck for $.99! It's also the last day to enter the contest Myla and I are sponsoring. We're offering two $25.00 gift certificates to two lucky winners. What you have to do is send us a link to where you talked about the book, posted a review, or posted the cover and the blurb. And you can enter multiple times, so if you are smart, send me a link for each individual posting to this address: Email Delilah!

Those of you who are hooked on the My Immortal Knight stories, won't want to miss my quickie novella in Moonstruck! Here's what one reader said about She's All That: "Moses is a hot cop on the paranormal beat. His coworkers think it's a super great joke. Melanie is a woman who went to a bar looking for a one night stand and ends up learning about vampires and other paranormal beings. Things go crazy from there. Now I don't want to give away the um…big…um moment(?) but I will say that there is a sex scene. When I finished it, I backed up and read it again!… This story read with a wink and a nudge and the humor just screams out of the pages."

Yeah, there is this one big scene I'm dying for you to read… Don't wait. Get your copy today!

Guest Blogger: Cathryn Cade

The big book expo was yesterday. Had a great time. I loved chatting with the folks who brought their dog-eared copies of my books, their Kindle covers, and their bookplates for me to sign. It made the whole week worthwhile. I'm flying back to Arkansas today, so I'll be right back here tomorrow! In the meantime, give a warm welcome to Cathryn! ~DD

Aloha from Hawaii. My husband and I are vacationing on the Big Island—the one with the active volcano. Sadly for my dreams of watching molten lava flow into the turqouise sea, Kilauea is currently…not active.

However, today we drove up from the sunny, warm seashore high into the cool, misty clouds of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. With other tourists from all over the world, we viewed the huge caldera, with sulphurous steam venting from a crater and from the ground all around the park observatory.

We drove down from the 4,000 foot summit to the wind-whipped south-east shore of Hawaii, where just last month, pahoehoe lava flowed down and hardened into black sheets like so much icing, covering mountainsides, verdant forests and even highways before it cascaded into the sea.

It happened. I was not there to see it. But, through the magic of video, maps, diagrams and dioramas that the Park Service does so very well, I was still able to experience the thrill. And I learned about the history of Hawaii, both geologic and how the people who settled here wove the volcanoes into their folklore and religion. The goddess Pele watches over her islands with a loving, jealous heart.

And, sigh…I suppose it's safer this way. There are only so many roads on this gorgeous island, and I feel for the people who have lost their homes to the fury of Pele's fire. So, if she chooses to stay her hand, I'll enjoy the grandeur of her handiwork safely cooled.

And hang out at the beach. Snorkeling tomorrow! I have a date with a handsome husband, lots of tropical fishes and a turtle or two, out on the reef.

Mahalo to Delilah for letting me stop by,

Cathryn

… red hot romance!

'Deep Indigo' Book 4,The Orion Series available now

http://www.cathryncade.com

http://cathryncadesblog.blogspot.com/

http://www.facebook.com/cathryncade.author

http://samhainpublishing.com/authors/cathryn-cade

Snippet Saturday: Worldbuilding

There's still time to win one of two gift certificates from Amazon.com! See details on Tuesday's blog: Contest Details

I'm still here in LA. Still under the freaking weather. My sniffles and sneezes are now full-blown honks. Scratch LA off as a place I can travel to, at least not during the spring. Today's the big Book Expo. Tomorrow, I'm on the plane home! Yeehaw! I think the next time I spend this much on a trip, I better be getting more than a mint of my pillow.

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

5 Cups, Coffee Time Romance

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

Reader to Reader Reviews

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

Fresh Pick!, Fresh Fiction

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

4 Stars, RT Book Reviews

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

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

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

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

Alex, the prince of the vampires, has left Gabriella in a magical bolt-hole to get her out of the way and ensure her safety while he wraps up loose ends after his successful takeover of the vampire council. Now that he's found his true mate, his and Gabriella's affair is at an end…

Her features tightened and the corners of her lips curved downward. She shut her eyes and downed the contents of her glass. When she opened them again, she stared at the mirror and set down her drink.

How many times had Alex stared into the glass, looking into that dreadful room—the hall where the demons and the dead feasted on each other in Hell. Remembering Alex's warning about the mirror, she reached up and gingerly touched only the frame.



The hall shimmered into sight. The same scene replayed—people in glittering, bejeweled costumes sitting at long benches in a Medieval-style hall. She shifted to the side to catch a glimpse of The Master's entrance—the handsome creature whose black aura resembled a dragon's. With Alex behind her, she'd watched The Master stride into the room, felt a tingle of awareness for his masculine beauty, and shuddered for the power he wielded over the orgiastic bloodletting that had followed. She wouldn't deny the man fascinated her.

The hellhounds once again stood like sentries at either side of the plank door. She waited for a long while, watched the couple nearest the mirror savage each other on the floor, but still he didn't appear.

Just when she'd decided to drop her hand, a figure stepped in front of the glass.

Her eyes widened as she found herself staring directly into The Master's golden eyes. The narrow, slitted pupils slowly expanded, engulfing the irises entirely in black.

Gabriella told herself he couldn't see her. Perhaps he looked at his own reflection in a matching mirror. Gathering calm around her, she stared back, noting the thick black hair that fell to the tops of his broad shoulders, the neatly trimmed beard and moustache that framed his chin and mouth, drawing her gaze to his lips—full for a man, sensual, and beginning to smile.

A chill gnawed at her spine, causing her to quake.

As though she stared into a cobra's mesmerizing stare, she couldn't break with his gaze as he slowly raised his hand and pressed it to the glass, his long fingers splayed.

Gabriella felt as though she stood outside herself, watching as she reached up, spreading her own fingers to match his, and pressed her hand against the glass.

The glass began to warm, and then dissolved between them. Their fingers met. Before she could jerk her hand away, his fingers slipped to her wrist and tightened there. Triumph glittered in his dark eyes, and he reached up with his free hand to grasp the edge of the mirror and pull. It stretched downward, the bureau in front of her melting away, and he jerked her forward—into the blood-soaked hall.

Gabriella stumbled, falling, her knees slamming into stone tiles. When she shook back her hair, she noted the faces of the demons and the dead swinging toward her and the silence that closed around her. Her heart hammering against her chest, she drew back her arm, trying to free herself from his grip. She scooted on the floor, her naked bottom sliding across the tiles, but her back met a hard wall. Stunned, she looked behind her and saw that the mirror on this side was small and high up the wall. The portal had closed and she was trapped. What have I done?

Low growls penetrated her terror. The hellhounds closed in on either side of her captor, and then the murmurs began, a slithering, raspy noise that grew into a roar as the creatures inside the room left their seats and surrounded them.

She curled her legs toward her torso, and tucked her arm over her breasts, trying to hide herself from dozens of ravenous gazes.

Her glance swung back to the demon that still held her in his grasp, rising slowly to meet his frightening eyes. His lips twisted. His arm swung out forcing her to unfold her legs and raising her onto her knees, exposing her body fully.

Her breaths shortened, rasping loudly as panic gripped her as tightly as he did. Would they fall on her, make a meal of her body? Or would they rape her? God, no, she'd sooner be eaten. The shame of her defeat, of her helplessness against greater strength and numbers, would live forever.

The beast holding her shot a glance over his shoulder, and the crowd backed up.

Would he take her first then give her over to the others? His lust was palpable, pounding, ticking at the side of one of his black eyes. His nostrils flared, and his head waved as though sucking in more of her scent. A bulge formed at the front of the black breeches he wore, thickening along the inside of one massive thigh.

She couldn't help staring at it, knowing her eyes widened with fear. But his sex was long and thick, more than an average woman could take. But she wasn't average. At six feet, her body was proportionately large and powerful, her hips wide, her woman's channel deep and able to stretch to fit the circumference and length of a very large man.

Unbidden, her body reacted, spilling fluid to dampen her labia. She sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried to will away her attraction. How could she be growing aroused?

Was he causing it? Did he have that kind of power over a woman's desire? Her nipples tightened, beading hard, and again she tried to shield them from his gaze, but he already knew.

She saw it in the fierce light glittering in his eyes.

Another tug of his hand and she was rising, teetering on weakened limbs. He ducked and pulled her over his shoulder.

As the world tilted, she flailed against him, clawing at his back through his clothing, but he turned on his heels and drove through the crowd. And because she was afraid, she didn't lift her face to meet their gazes. She tucked her head against his back and closed her eyes. Wherever he was going—out of the room, or simply to one of the emptied tables to lower her and take her—she didn't want to know.

Her only thoughts were of Alex and whether he'd care enough to search for her when he discovered she was gone.

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

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

Selena Blake

Leah Braemel

Taige Crenshaw

Lauren Dane

McKenna Jeffries

Lissa Matthews

TJ Michaels

Emma Petersen

Shelli Stevens

Jody Wallace

Guest Blogger: Cari Quinn

Posting from LA! I skipped the Fairy Ball last night. Allergies were driving me nuts (sneezing, wheezing), so I went to bed early. Had a good day though. Met with my agent. Sat on a panel with the awesome, L.A. Banks, Kim Kaye Terry, Glenda Wood from Harlequin and J.D. Mason. The panel went very well! I attended the EC luncheon, popped in briefly to the late afternoon Samhain party, but again, I was tired and coughing, so I ducked out and hung with Vivi Anna and Kim (she injured her knee dancing, so needed the company!). That's the best about conferences—cementing friendships. ~DD

Cougars…really?

Thanks to Delilah for having me here today!

My topic today is one I've done before but still fascinates me. Cougars. Why is a woman of a certain age (and that age is getting younger and younger—I'm thirty-five and I'd bet in some circles I would qualify) who's interested in a younger man worthy of a derogatory title? Do older men get named for dating younger women? No, because that's considered the usual way of things.

Women who take charge of their lives and their sexuality and go after what they want—whether it's a younger man or a career or staying home with their kids—have earned my respect. I have a good friend who's engaged to someone younger and she's a beautiful, sweet woman. He's lucky to have her! I think to insinuate that women dating younger guys is all about sex isn't true. Just like people can have friends of any age, love blooms between all different age groups. And that's the way it should be.

Even if it's not about love, who cares? I say have fun. Go for it. What's been good for the guys since the beginning of time is definitely good for us ladies.

I'm writing two very different so-called "cougar" stories right now and I've written one before, Full Disclosure. One of the reasons I love writing them is that I like an age range in my heroines and unfortunately, unless you're writing women's fiction, heroines above 35 don't seem prevalent unless they're with a younger guy.

I like writing about older women. They've usually got a better handle on what they want in their careers and sexually too. But they have a whole new set of vulnerabilities to explore.

What about you? Do you dislike the term "cougar"? Do you enjoy books featuring older heroines?

Visit Cari Quinn at www.cariquinn.com or at her blog: Cari's Blog

Or join her fabulous multi-author loop: Three Wicked Writers Plus Two

Guest Blogger: Adele Dubois

I'm in LA! If you are at the Romantic Times convention, please look me up. However, I won't be spending ALL my time hanging out at the bar. I have a book to edit and get back into my editor's hands. What can I say? Time got away from me before I left. So much for a vacation. In the meantime, welcome my guest, Adele Dubois! Oh, and remember, the MOONSTRUCK contest is still running! See details in Tuesday's blog! ~DD

What's Your Fantasy

by Adele Dubois

All my life I've been fascinated by motorcycles and convertibles. The sensations of wind and speed thrills like nothing else. When the weather's warm, I love to ride in my convertible with the top down, as do the heroines in almost all of my books. Though I don't own a motorcycle, my law-enforcement heroes do, and they ride hard and fast when they need to solve a crime or sport the heroine away from danger.

I live vicariously through my strong, sexy characters in the novella REV ME TWICE and it's stand-alone novel REV ME UP. These e-books will be combined in trade paperback as REV ME this fall.

Though I'm not fearless enough to ride a motorcycle in real life, I can live out the fantasy with my story characters. Isn't that the best thing about fiction? We can go where we want to go and do whatever we please, including having the most amazing sex imaginable with a hot guy who looks good on a Harley.

What's your favorite fictional fantasy?

Visit Adele Dubois at www.adeledubois.com/.

Guest Blogger: Myla Jackson (Contest)

I'm on my way to LA for the RT convention. I won't be back until Sunday. In the meantime, I have some fun guests lined up to keep you entertained. Don't be shy about commenting! ~DD

I've blogged about Cowboys before and had so much fun with the Cowboy conversation starters, I thought I'd do it again on Delilah's Blog.

First, what's not to love about cowboys? Having lived in Texas, on a small 100-acre ranch outside of San Antonio, I know a little about cows—they're dumber than dirt. I know a little about horses—just waving at them doesn't stop them from running over you. I know a little about building fences—100 acres takes 9 months of weekends to completely fence, almost as painful as having a baby. We had the fortune of raising some exotic animals for a while in the form of ratites—I know, what's a ratite? Think Ostrich, Emu and Rheas, those really big, flightless birds that are almost as dumb as cows. I learned a lot from the big birds. Ostriches can kick the crap out of you, Emus have a six-feet vertical jump and it hurts when they land on your head, and a Rhea male sits the eggs and doesn't like it when you rob his nest.

I no longer live on that ranch—it was killing me to re-fence after every rain storm. After 14 years working it, we decided to try our hands as business owners in Arkansas. I miss the Texas hill country and the cowboys that came along with it. I always wanted my daughters to marry cowboys, but so far that hasn't happened. And since I was already married when we moved to the Texas hill country, I didn't get the opportunity to marry a cowboy myself, not that I mind having married the computer geek husband I have. He's tough when it comes to trying his hand at ranching and he doesn't give up.

However, IF I was single, here a few conversation starters I came up with for an encounter with a cowboy. Maybe one of you can use them since I'm already taken. Tell me what you think and if you have a few of your own, I'd love to hear them. Leave a conversation starter for a chance to win a download of FIT TO BE TIED or HONOR BOUND.

10. Bull riding or team roping?

9. Felt or straw cowboy hat?

8. Ever tipped a cow?

7. Skinny-dip or suit?

6. Saddle or bareback?

5. Where did you get your first kiss?

4. Candles or stars?

3. Ride much?

2. Do you sleep in the nude or with your boots on?

1. Do you own a pair of chaps?

I love to write about contemporary cowboys and cowboys of the old west. Check out SEX ED on Amazon. He's a cowboy caught between a promise and a request he can't ignore.

About Myla Jackson

Myla Jackson, aka Elle James, aka Delilah Devlin's little sister. Woot!

Twenty years of livin' and lovin' on a South Texas ranch raising horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all genres including historical westerns, medieval tales, romantic suspense, contemporary romance and paranormal beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. or spending time with her family. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of 20+ years and her muses— the human-wanna-be canines—Chewy and Sweetpea. To learn more about Myla Jackson and her stories visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com.

Buy it at Amazon! And a contest!

Are you getting tired of that image yet? Yeah, me neither.

Good news is that you can buy it NOW at Amazon's Kindle store! And we're offering it at a reduced price, just $.99 until next Monday, so don't wait too long! Buy Link

Myla and I would appreciate help getting the word out. What we'd love you to do for us is:

1) Tag, star, and "Like" the book wherever you bought it!

2) Review it, if you feel comfortable doing that!

3) Post the cover/blurb on your blog, if you have one, to help us get the word out. (Ask! One of us will send you a jpeg!)

4) Most importantly, BUY it! It will stay cheap until next Monday. Then I'll be jacking up the price to what it should be: $2.99!

If you're the competitive sort, we're running a contest and will offer two $25.00 gift certificates to two lucky winners. What you have to do is send us a link to where you talked about the book, posted a review, posted the cover and the blurb. And you can enter multiple times, so if you are smart, send me a link for each individual posting to this address: Email Delilah!

While we are waiting to be Moonstruck…

Yes, I'm going just a little nuts waiting for Amazon to add the buy link to Moonstruck. The cover is up, the description is there. There's just no freaking way to buy it yet! I will come back and post an update here as soon as it's live. In the meantime, if you want to come help keep me from going nuts, I'm playing at Wild & Wicked Cowboys, and looking for you to help me plot the next story!

Mosey on over… Wild & Wicked Cowboys

Another stop on the Lesbian Cops blog tour!

While Moonstruck is busy uploading at Kindle and Smashwords, let's talk about my contribution to Cleis Press's Lesbian Cops.

I love writing shorts. Those of you who visit often know that I do it for fun. It's a way to experiment with a genre I've never tried or simply to clear my mind when I'm deep into a longer story.

When Sacchi's call for submissions went out, I was all over it! Over the years, I've had cop friends, lesbian cop friends, so my story about a big city cop moving to a small southern town was very nearly biographical (and parts autobiographical—but I'm not telling which!). The funny things that happen to the cop in my story are true. The dry humor, the tight-knit friendships are real as well.

I got my copy in the mail the other day and have started reading through the stories. They're hot, varied in tone and style, and very well done. You're going to love this. And even if the theme isn't your persuasion, I think you'll be drawn in. I worked with Sacchi on Lesbian Cowboys, and she knows a good story when she sees it.

If you'd like to check out the other stops in Sacchi's blog tour, check out her website: Sacchi's Blog

(Click on the cover to buy!)

What is it about lesbian cops that pushes all the right buttons? It's not just the uniform, with handcuffs and weapons, or the confidence, authority, and sense of danger. There's something more as well, an irresistible force that these writers have channeled into fiercely erotic stories of policewomen in or out of uniform, on patrol or undercover, in charge or in need of healing, on the case or under the sheets.

The action can be gut-level tough, as in Jove Belle's "Hollis" where anti-terrorism boot camp surges over the inevitable edge into BDSM, or heart-wrenching as in Evan Mora's "A Cop's Wife" when death threats sharpen the need for life-affirming sex to a keen edge, or quirky as well as steamy while Teresa Noelle Roberts's cop finds a way to maintain respect for her own "Dress Uniform" while indulging her anime-girl lover's cos-play kink. Delilah Devlin, Andrea Dale, R. G. Emanuelle, Cheyenne Blue, and all the other contributors offer their own sizzling visions of the complexity and depth, the strength and vulnerability, and above all the commanding, overwhelming sex appeal of Lesbian Cops.

From The Only Game in Town, Lesbian Cops:

I wondered why I'd bothered changing out of my uniform before hitting the bar. Back in the city, the department had strict rules about drinking in uniform. However here, a circle of black uniforms sat crowded around the table in the far corner, cold beers sweating on the scarred wood.

Lonny James caught sight of me and waved me over. "Make room, guys."

He said guys, but there was another female among them. Officer Brown, the bicycle cop who patrolled up and down Main Street in little black bike shorts during shopping hours.

I gave her a nod then glanced around the table. Lonny pulled out the chair beside him without rising. I sank into it gratefully and accepted the beer he slid my way.

"So how was your first day?"

I shrugged. Boring might sound rude, like a big city cop telling the rest of them their jobs were cakewalks. "It was okay, I guess."

"Get any looks?"

"What do you mean?"

"We aren't used to female cops here."

My glance swung toward Office Brown whose lips pressed into a thin line.

"You've already got one," I murmured.

"Yeah, but…" Lonny wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and apparently had to think a minute about how to respond when he thought everyone should already know. "She's on a bike."

What an idiot.

I gave a soft laugh, rolled my eyes at Brown and sucked down foam as the men on my shift began to talk about their interesting day.

Lonny's story was the best. He'd intervened between two yard archrivals over a dispute about a sycamore that dropped its pods on the wrong side of a fence. Lonny might not have been all that sharp but his slow drawling recounting of how he'd faced off against men armed with a chain saw and a rake had everyone chuckling, including me.

Lonny's gaze dropped to my mouth. "You're pretty when you smile," he whispered.

I arched an eyebrow, suddenly uncomfortable because his thigh was pushing against mine.

I slipped a pen from my purse out of sight of the others and jabbed his thigh.

He jumped, cussing loudly, but when the others glanced his way, he said, "Caught my toe under the chair.

He wore steel-toed boots. Like I said, not the brightest light bulb.

When he settled again, he scooted his chair away. "If I'd known you swung that way," he muttered loudly, "I'd have suggested you take the seat next to Brown."

"Thanks for the suggestion," I said, picking up my drink and walking around the table, aware that all eyes in the bar were on me, and everyone was drawing the same conclusion.

I sat beside the Brown, giving her only a quick glance. I didn't want to assume a damn thing. "He always such a dick?" I muttered.

She laughed and held out her hand. "Ramona, and yeah, he thinks he's a stud because he has a badge."

"Cathy." I offered a smile along with my hand. "Glad it wasn't just me."

The officer on the other side of her shook his head. "Don't pay him any mind. He's the sheriff's nephew, and Horace knows good and well he's an idiot."

"We're a little light on the formalities here," Ramona said, eyeing my street clothes. "And they should have assigned you a sponsor—someone to show you the ropes."

"Really?"

"Sheriff probably didn't want to assign one of the married guys because their wives wouldn't like it. You're too pretty. And he couldn't assign Lonny, well, because he's—"

"An idiot."

We shared a grin. I liked the way her smile pulled up the corners of her eyes, slanting them, betraying a drop of Asian blood mixed with the glorious Creole that painted her skin a lovely dark cream.

"So, why didn't he give me you?" I said slowly, holding her gaze.

She blinked and a flush colored her cheeks. "He didn't want you to be offended."

I nodded my understanding. My instincts hadn't lied. "Can I request you?"

"There's not a lot you can't figure out for yourself," she said, stirring a fingertip in the top of her mixed drink.

"That mean you're not interested?" I asked under my breath, wanting to keep our conversation on the down low.

Her eyes widened, and her glance slid away.

I blew out a breath and looked away—into her friend's narrowed glare. I wondered if I'd had her figured all wrong and he was her boyfriend. Or maybe I'd just come on too strong. But I'm not the kind of girl to let a good thing slip away, not if I can help it.

I took another gulp of my beer, trying to figure out how to exit now that I'd shown my ass to everyone.

Chairs scraped. I glanced up to see the men rising, stretching out their arms, and sharing teasing jibes as they prepared to leave.

"Welcome to Canaan," the guy sitting beside Ramona said. He lifted a brow at Ramona, and paused, but she stayed seated. He left with the others.

"That wasn't at all obvious," she muttered.

I wrinkled my nose. "I know how to clear a room."

She gave a scoffing laugh. "It wasn't about your bad behavior. Jonesy was giving us time alone to get to know each other. He didn't think you'd want to out yourself your first damn day. It's a small town. And this is the Bible Belt."

"It worry you? Them knowing?"

"Only if it bothers you."

I smiled, relieved I hadn't blown it. "Fact is, I hoped I'd get a chance to talk to you alone. And I could give a shit less whether they're disappointed that I don't swing their way."

Ramona's lips pressed into thin line.

I couldn't tell if she was disapproving of my forwardness or trying to hide a smile.

She cleared her throat. "Most of them are pretty decent—so long as we're not in their face about it."

I nodded and sat back in my chair, crossing one jeans-clad leg over the other. "You dating anyone?"

"Around…" She shrugged. "No one special. You?"

"Same."

Shoving her drink away, she planted an elbow on the table and leaned closer. "Look, you're new. I don't jump in and out of bed with every available dyke just because there's too damn few of us here."

"And I'm not hitting on you because you're the only game in town. Besides, I didn't ask you to sleep with me."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I want to, but I'll give you a chance to know me first." Sensing I'd pushed her far enough, I rose, dropped folded bills on the table to tip the waitress and held out her chair as she rose, smiling but looking a little uncomfortable at the attention we drew.

We parted at the door, exchanging nods, and I headed home. Regrettably, alone.

* * *

Get ready to be MOONSTRUCK!

Yes, the cover is to die for! And the stories? Well, you'll get a chance to see for yourself. I'm working feverishly to get Moonstruck up on Amazon and Smashwords today! Be sure to check back here today. I'll post the links as soon as they're live! ~DD

Two sizzling tales by two very twisted sisters…

Heart of the Jaguar by Myla Jackson

When jaguar shifter Reme Denux stumbles into his ex-girlfriend's palm reading parlor in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he's fuzzy about how he got there. The last thing he remembered was a drink at a bar and having another man's dark, sensuous dream.

As soon as Reme enters her building, Sybille can sense the black magic haze hanging over the man she still loves. With the full moon on the rise, she has to do something to save him from a death-swapping hex or lose him forever. With the help of a voodoo priestess, Sybille and Reme weather the moon's supremacy and the soul-stealing storm, forging a bond of lust and love, neither has the strength to resist.

She's All That by Delilah Devlin

Librarian by day, Melanie Bradshaw, is driven to desperation by her torrid dreams. However, when she acts on her desires, things go horribly wrong and she witnesses the murder of an overly amorous lounge lizard. With the body disintegrating before her eyes, who's going to believe her?

When Detective Moses Brown gets the latest Full Moon case, he's hoping it's no more than another crazy looking for attention—until he meets the delectable librarian. Melanie took a walk on the wild side straight into vampire territory. They know her and now she's not safe. Until he can find out why, he's going to stick to her like glue. If his own attraction gets between him and his good intentions, he'll just grit his teeth and do his best to ignore it.

But pretty little Melanie has designs on his body. How's a brother to resist?

Do you want the left or the right side of the bed?

Already stripped to his briefs, Moses glanced at the bedroom door and grunted. The shower had stopped running. Maybe now he'd stop thinking about her being naked and wet and less than twenty feet away.

Despite her invitation, he was taking the couch in her small living room. She'd been scared and wanted someone, anyone trustworthy, close by. So long as the door remained open between them, she'd feel secure enough to sleep. He didn't dare read anything more into her word choice.

Glancing down at the wood tenting his underwear, he figured she'd be the only one getting any rest. From the moment he'd breathed in her fragrance, stood close enough to see the fine porcelain quality of her skin, and looked into her soft brown eyes, he'd been hard as a post.

He'd give anything for a few minutes alone in a soundproofed room to relieve the ache, but her apartment was small, the walls paper-thin. She'd know, and he didn't want her uncomfortable with him. Didn't want her to be afraid he'd made the suggestion of accompanying her home to get into her bed.

As soon as he'd followed her into her tiny apartment, she'd been nervous, her glance cutting to him and darting away. No doubt he looked like a bull in a china shop. Too large and intimidating for her to relax. He'd shooed her to the shower then, with gritted teeth, listened to the whispers of her clothing as she undressed in the other room.

Moses rubbed a hand over the top of his head and sat on the edge of the couch. His phone vibrated on the coffee table. He reached for it and flipped it open. "Dammit, Viper. What the hell's goin' on?"

Viper's chuckle was anything but amused. "I don't know how she ended up in the club, but the moment she came through the door, every one of Zachary's fledglings went on the alert. They knew her. You have to figure out how. And you have to lie low. Keep her caged. They'll be hunting."

"Did you have to dust the dude right in front of her? She's freaked." His chest pinched. "And I don't know how much to tell her."

"That's up to you." A loud yawn sounded through the receiver. "Have to talk later—after I talk to another of Zachary's boys. 'S dawn. If it's just vampires, you'll be safe until dusk. Later."

Moses grunted again and set aside the phone, then turned and stretched out on the couch.

The door creaked, footsteps padded his way. He flipped the sheet she'd given him and covered his hips, then leaned up on an elbow to peer over the couch.

She hovered near the doorway, a thin nightgown draping her slender curves. "I just wanted to make sure you'd be all right. On the couch." Her teeth bit into her bottom lip. Her eyebrows drew together.

She didn't look worried, but rather annoyed. Moses gave her a faint grin. "It's a little short. The couch, I mean."

"I could sleep here. You can have the bed."

He shook his head, knowing he'd be in hell sleeping in sheets drenched with her feminine scent. "Get some shut-eye, Melanie. You're safe."

She remained in the doorway, her expression awash with indecision. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm one of the good guys," he murmured, wanting her to relax. Needing her to move inside her bedroom so he could relax.

She came closer, hovering beside the couch.

Her expression was fluid, gliding from anxious to something he was afraid to read too much into. Cursing himself for being a horn-dog, he dropped his legs to the floor and sat up, careful to keep the sheet masking his hard-on. "Sit."

"Okay." Melanie came around the couch and hesitated over the space he'd made, then instead of sitting beside him, eased over his lap.

Moses held his breath, his hands clenching the edge of the sofa. "Melanie, what're you doin'?"

Her hands clutched together in her lap; she didn't meet his gaze. "I'm sorry. I don't have anyone else."

She sat square on his erection, crowding it down against his thigh. Not something she could miss, but she wasn't shying away.

All she wants is comfort, he reminded himself. "Well, hell," he muttered and raised his arms to enfold her. He sat back, taking her with him, letting her curves settle against his chest.

"You want me," she said, bluntly.

Moses rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and how do you know that?"

She snuggled closer to his chest, wriggling her soft ass against his growing erection. "Do you really need me to answer that?" she asked. Before he could respond, she continued, "And… you're very nice."

"I'm not," he said, starting to sweat as her bottom shifted again. He wished he could clutch her hips and hold her still, but the thin fabric of her nightgown was hardly any barrier at all. "Don't kid yourself."

"I wouldn't mind," she whispered, her face nuzzling into his neck before she tilted back her head to meet his gaze.

"Mind what?" he asked, lungs tightening.

"Sharing a bed." She ground down against his cock. "Taking care of this. I owe you."

"You don't owe me a damn thing." But he wasn't shoving her off his lap either, was he?

"I was looking for a hook-up," she whispered, swallowing before looking away. "It's why I went to the bar."

A hook-up. With a stranger. His stomach tightened. Why that bothered him so much wasn't something he wanted to examine too closely.

The fact that she looked away, briefly, was telling. As much as he wanted to fuck her, he wasn't about to take advantage of the fact that, obviously, she was scared and embarrassed. His hand caressed her back. "Why don't you have a boyfriend? You're pretty. Plenty sexy. You shouldn't have to resort to having sex with a stranger."

"I haven't lived here all that long. I haven't met anyone. I work in a library with a bunch of women." She raised her head, cupped the side of his face with her palm, and swiped a thumb over his bottom lip. "I've wanted to feel this mouth on my skin since I first saw you."

Moses growled deep in his throat. But he shook his head, striving for sanity, for safety, one last time. Last thing he needed was to get mixed up with her. Mixed up with anyone. He walked in a dark, dangerous world. The darkness clung to him like dirt. Sometimes, it followed him home.

Even though it killed him, he said, "I'm not what you want, sweetheart."

"Look, truth of the matter is, I'm scared as hell. Freaked out, really." Her fingers tightened into a ball on his chest. "And I know what I want… what I need," she said swallowing hard, "is dick."

Moses blinked, not believing what just came out of her sweet mouth.

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Her expressive eyes held a militant gleam. "Do a girl a favor. I need to be fucked. Long and hard. And I think you have exactly what I need."

"Damn girl," he whispered, his cock twitching its own halleluiahs.

"I want sex. Nothing more. No strings. Promise."

Taking a deep breath to still his excitement, he tried one last time to do the right thing. "If all you want is to be held while you sleep…"

She leaned away and began to smile. A cat-like grin that said she knew she had him. She climbed off his lap, then crawled over him again, this time spreading her thighs over his lap. "I'm not sleepy. For days, I've had the most lurid, raunchy dreams—every time I close my eyes. It's why I couldn't stand it one night longer. I need this. I need you. Right now, Detective Brown."

With her steamy center bearing down, grinding against his covered shaft, he gave up. He let her move against him, watched her eyelids fall, her sweet mouth open as she moaned and dragged her pussy forward and back along his shaft. He dragged away the sheet from between them. Only her thin panties and his briefs were between them now. Both were wet.

His hands cupped her butt and he lunged up, long strides taking him to her door, right toward her bed. Her clothes lay in a puddle beside it, the necklace she'd worn dropped carelessly in the center. He stepped over the mound, then he leaned over the mattress and crawled to the center on his knees, one hand still clutching her soft bottom, keeping her hot pussy pressed tight against him.

When he knelt in the middle of her soft bed, he bent, depositing her there. Her hands clutched the hem of her nightgown, and she wriggled to pull it over her head. He shoved down his briefs, getting them to his knees, before she took over, her cheek sliding against his abdomen, making the muscles jump, as she reached to push the shorts off his legs. Her mouth pressed a kiss against the tip of his hard cock, but he shoved her back, too aroused, too desperate to be nice now.

Not that she seemed to mind. The corners of her sweet mouth lifted in a siren's smile, as she laid her arms on the bed, and stretched out at her sides. He tucked his fingers under the waist band of her panties and tugged them off. Then she slid her heels up to bend her knees and parted her thighs.

As he looked at her sex, red and glistening, his balls drew tight against his groin. "Ever had a brother?" he rasped.

"Think I can't take you?"

"Last chance." He arched a brow. "I'm not little."

Her laughter was soft and husky, sexy as hell. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft and squeezed before falling away.

Well, he'd given her an out. If she wasn't worried, he wouldn't be either.

Leaning over her, his cock tapped her center once, then pushed inside. She was small, tight, but so fucking hot he couldn't be gentle, not now. He tunneled deep, groaning as he worked his way inside her, slick heat surrounding him every inch of the way.

Even as tiny, as slender as she was, she took him. Without hesitation or complaint, her throaty cries punctuating the air, hips churning to urge him deeper still.

"Lord have mercy," he moaned. "Hold still. Just a minute," he said, gasping.

Her nails dug into his ass. "Don't stop. Not now. Detective Brown, move!"

Moses tried to hold back. Reached deep for control, but she was touching him, raking his skin with her nails, undulating so sweetly, so urgently, her pussy tightening all around him, gripping him, squeezing him with feminine contractions that rippled up and down his shaft.

And already, she was coming. And hard. Her head digging into the mattress, her mouth stretched wide. A choked scream ripped from her throat.

He caved, hammering her, pounding so deep, so hard, the bed jerked and scraped on the hardwood floor, the headboard thudding against the wall with each powerful surge of his hips. Only Sidney had ever been able to withstand his full-on assaults. But this little woman, this tiny, fragile thing, writhing like a wild animal trapped beneath him, was taking it, taking all of him. "Sweet Jesus…fuck…Oh, goddamn," he said, as his balls exploded, streams of cum shooting through his cock, filling her until he was sliding, churning in liquid so hot and thick he kept right on rocking, unwilling to end the sweet, wet pleasure.

But at last, his strength gave and he sank against her body, rested his chest against her quivering breasts. Her legs and arms were wrapped tightly around him, her face snug in the curve of his neck. When her mouth glided in the sweat coating his skin, he realized with a start, he'd fucked her without ever kissing her, without ever touching her intimately. He'd crawled right over her and fucked her like a whore.

He felt like an ass.

Ashamed, Moses, buried his head in the bedding. Her hands made long slow glides up his sides, over his back, soothing him. Dragging in deep gulps of air, he raised his head and pushed up on his hands to take his weight.

Her features were soft, skin dewy and pink. Her eyes blinked sleepily and a smile spread slowly across her face. "Thank you."

Disgust, at himself, had him curling his lips. "Don't. That was… a huge fucking mistake."

Her smile faded and her brows drew together. "Because you've already got someone?"

"Because I'm a cop. And I'm supposed to be protecting you."

"I asked for this. I needed it. And it was…good."

Moses growled, irked now. Good? That's all she had to say about sex that had his body still shaking in the aftermath? He gritted his teeth and pulled out of her silky heat, then climbed off her and rolled to his back at her side.

"Name's Moses. I'll sleep on the left."

Melanie shot Moses a glance, but he wasn't looking her way. His forearm covered his eyes. But she wasn't fooled. He'd been into it. Deep into her. Maybe he didn't like the fact she'd come onto him. Maybe he was the kind of guy who liked to make the first move. Or maybe, he really was disappointed in himself that he'd let down his guard.

However, she didn't believe for even a moment that he hadn't felt as pulled, as compelled, to mate as she had. The sex had been raw, hard and fast. Far too urgent for him not to have felt how special the coupling was. He'd rivaled the dark fantasies swirling in her dreams.

For now, however, she'd let him have his sulk. She had a few things to figure out anyway. Least of which was why she felt such a strong attraction to a man she'd just met—beyond the biological urges that had led her into trouble in the first place.

In the meantime, he wasn't going anywhere, and she felt safe with his large body sprawled beside hers. Safe, at last. Even if he was sulking.

Her lips twitched, a grin tugging, wanting to stretch, but she suppressed the urge, sure that if he peeked her way, he'd be in a real huff.

Instead, she gave a little sigh, rolled to her side, toward him, and tucked her body close, ignoring the way he stiffened for a moment before his hand curved over the back of her head and held her closer.

Never had she felt like this. Thrilled to her toes, but wrapped in warmth, cozy and safe. She closed her eyes, rested a hand over the dull thud of his heart and drifted into sleep.

It started again, even before she sank deep into the dream. Part of her aware she stroked his skin. Part of her floating away, drifting toward the ceiling, gazing down curiously at the couple entwined on her bed.

As she watched, Moses's features grew lax in sleep. His legs twitched. The length of his cock, still drying in the air, lay curled against his thick thigh.

Her attention snagged on his sex.

Freed by her dream, she swooped toward the bed then paused to hover over the couple, suspended. She glanced toward the woman—the other her. The body nestled against his side disappeared in a slow fade.