Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 539

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?

Sunday Report Card

Psst! See the bottom of this post for my "Dress Elvis" winner! ~DD

It's uncanny how accurate my horoscopes have been lately.

This was mine for Friday. Notice the part I highlighted? Traffic might be clogged… Friday, I had a doctor's appointment in Little Rock—normally an hour and fifteen minute drive. But some poor trucker rolled his oil tanker on the freeway, which closed all lanes in both directions. Drivers were forced to take little back roads, which then clogged those roads all the hell up! It took me three and a half hours to get to Little Rock. I missed my lab appointment and then was five minutes late for the doctor appointment and had to reschedule. If only I'd believed! I shoulda stayed home.

And then there's yesterday's…

That's me—"overwhelmed." But I'll talk about the work in a minute. Here's today's question:

Do you read your horoscope? Has yours ever influenced you to change something?

This week, I really wanted to be coming up on the end of the short novella and the the Cat Tails chapter, but I'm at roughly 60% on both. Friday killed me—the long drive, and then I had to wait in Little Rock for Hazmat to clear the freeway. So I brainstormed with my sister who was there to chaperone for a wrestling team. It was productive, but I didn't get any pages done. It killed my momentum. I do however intend to finish both by Tuesday so I can wrap them up for February and start something new!

The winner (by random number generator) of my "Dress Elvis" contest is…Rachel Firasek! Congrats, Rachel, and be sure to send me your snail mail addy!

Snippet Saturday: The Moment

It's your last day to enter the "Dress Elvis" contest! See Thursday's blog for details. Comment to win! ~DD

"…The intense visuals, and impressions… the crack of the ice as the skiffs skim through the frozen waters, the colorful sea serpents that tunnel the icy depths, the frozen fortresses of New Iceland, and the seedy underworld of Karthagos all come alive in every sentence. As do the combustible romantic interludes of Dagr and Honora. Ravished is sexier, fleshier, and more mouth-watering than anything else that I have read from Devlin…" Fiendishly Bookish

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

"With the intriguing meshing of the past with the future this was an engrossing read…" Top Pick!, Night Owl Reviews

What a Viking wants, a Viking takes.

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

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

When Dagr stood inches from the woman, he glared down his nose. "Where have the men been taken?" he asked, adding a razor edge of tension to his softly spoken words.

The deepening furrow on her forehead said she didn't like having to lift her gaze so high. But she didn't step back. "What men?"

Dagr gave a low growl and crowded closer to her body. "We can play this game, but you will not win. Save yourself unnecessary pain."

She arched a brow. "Will you beat me? Do you want an answer that pleases you or one that is closer to the truth?"

Blood pounded in his ears, and he tightened his fists, wishing she were male because he wanted to trade blows. But there were other ways to conquer. Ones that appealed more than they should.

The glint of stubbornness in her golden brown eyes decided him. When was the last time anyone had defied him?

"Before you interrogate her," Cyrus said, his tone dry, "you'll want the communicators removed from all the crew's uniforms."

Dagr's head whipped toward Cyrus. "Communicators?"

"I think the patches on their collars are radios. They don't wear utility belts anymore, so I wondered where they put them. Check the patches on their collars. They'll be set to allow the crew to talk among themselves and to the ship's systems, but they can be reprogrammed to access an external channel."

Dagr jerked his blade from its scabbard and held it in front of the woman's face. Her skin whitened, but again she didn't flinch. When he tucked his finger beneath her collar to drag it open, the pulse at the side of her throat leapt. He pressed his finger against the spot and noted the quickening of her heartbeat.

Her glare was withering, which amused him.

He glided the finger under her chin and raised it, then fisted the banded collar and carved out the small patch, taking more material than he needed, baring her throat and the top of her chest. Holding the fabric between his fingers, he dropped the collar on the floor and crushed the patch beneath his boot.

"Give the order," he said to Cyrus, not tearing his gaze from the woman.

Her cheeks were reddening, her body quivering. With anger now. Good. He ducked, shoved his shoulder into her belly, and lifted her off the ground.

"Khasi-bastard!" she said, her fists swinging at his head and kidneys.

"Cyrus! Check the computer. See whether another ship has docked here recently."

"Aye, Captain," Cyrus shouted after him, laughter in his voice. "I'll check the logs and the manifests while you're . . . busy."

The woman bucked hard, legs and arms flailing to escape, but he clamped an arm around her thighs and strode toward the maintenance lift at the side of the corridor.

"Your cabin," he bit out, nearly smiling because she wiggled harder than a black-headed eel. "Where is it?"

"Find it yourself, bastard!"

"Shall I take you against the wall, where anyone might see?" He didn't mean it, but he wanted her nervous. He'd dull the edge of authority from her stubborn chin. Didn't she know women were meant to be soft and yielding?

"That's right. Prove you're a watyie pirate. Rape me!"

When her toes slammed perilously close to his groin, he swatted her backside. "It will not be rape. We both know that."

The wriggling calmed, but only because she'd worked a hand beneath his wolf headdress and was pulling his hair. "I'll fight you."

He grimaced. Her grip was fierce, and his scalp stung. "You'll only make a show of it because you should, elskling."

The doors of the lift closed, and the conveyance slid downward. When the doors opened again, he stepped into a deserted corridor, narrower than the one that tracked along the spine of the bird-shaped ship.

"Which way?" His hand rubbed her bottom, and she squirmed harder, trying to break his hold. "Make your choice. Will I take you here, where anyone might see us? Or in your room?" To prove his threat, he slid his hand between her legs and stroked her folds through the thin black skin.

Her body stiffened, and her gasp echoed in his ear. "Damn you. End of the hall."

The corridor was barely higher than the top his head, and he pushed forward, crouching slightly but not caring that her bottom hit the ceiling here and there.

Her hands clasped his hips to steady herself and he grunted, enjoying the fact she was already adjusting, adapting to his control although she likely thought she was only trying to avoid further injury.

He came to the last door, pressed down the latch, and pushed open the oval metal hatch. He ducked inside and halted, remembering it from his search. The room was barely larger than the many closets he'd seen. The bed was little more than a shelf and too short for his body. Her furnishings were sparse—just the bed and a small built-in cabinet beside it with a gooseneck lamp jutting from the wall.

There were no pictures, no art or even maps on her walls, which were no more than cabinet doors. Not a single note of color warmed the small, airless, gray room. No softness was betrayed whatsoever. And yet she was fully feminine. The curves surrounding his shoulder and digging into his back were proof.

He set her on her feet, ignoring her as she sputtered and slammed her fists against his chest as any woman would when furious with a mate.

Standing still, he waited while she regained control of herself. Her fists landed again, but froze on his chest, which rose and fell in shallow swells while hers billowed wildly. Her gaze flitted up, perhaps to gauge his expression and see whether she'd angered him.

She hadn't. He couldn't be more pleased with her womanly tantrum. It revealed passion, and the hardness of her blows proved her wiry strength. She might be slender, but she wasn't truly delicate. He could already imagine how tight her woman's passage would be, how it would squeeze deliciously around his cock. A small, tight fit like the tiny space where she slept.

Her furrowed brows remained set, shadowing her eyes, but her hands flattened on his chest. With her soft, shiny hair mussed and her mouth soft and pouting, she was lovelier, more tempting, than she should have been, dressed as she was in the ugly black skin-suit.

He waited, letting the thud of his heart tell her of his attraction, his muscles rippling as she curled her fingers and pulled her hands slowly away.

With slow steps, she backed up to the far wall, her eyes glittering with anger, but her body quivering with something else. Her intense arousal perfumed the thin, stale air of her cabin.

Remembering that he did have a purpose for bringing her here, alone, he hardened his expression. "Where are the men your people captured?"

"Not here. Obviously," she said, her features neutral. Her eyes, however, betrayed her. She blinked.

Dagr grunted, wondering why he enjoyed her defiance so much. He hoped she'd force him to take stronger action. "Why aren't they here?" he said just as evenly.

"Another transport arrived to take them away."

"I want the name of the ship."

Her jaw tightened. "I don't know it."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care what you believe."

Annoyed now, he bit out, "You should. Your life and that of your crew depends upon my mercy."

"You and your men are criminals. The Consortium doesn't negotiate. They'd sooner destroy the whole ship than see you reap a profit from this . . . venture."

"So we are at an impasse . . ." he said softly.

"Looks like it."

Dagr shook his head, wondering at her mental state. She faced a foe who weighed easily twice her weight, and yet she wouldn't back down an inch. Perhaps she needed a little softening first. He dragged off his wolf headdress, toed off his soft leather boots.

"What are you doing?" she asked, a catch in her voice.

"What we both want."

"You just captured my ship, throttled my crew," she said, her voice rising. "You threatened to cut off my head, you barbarian. You think I want you?"

She did. He was sure of it. "Next time you decide to tell a man you don't desire him, dress in a few more layers." With deliberation, he dropped his gaze to her chest, to the nipples that spiked hard against the thin, oiled skin.

Her gaze followed, then jerked back. "You arrogant ass! I don't want you." Her chin jutted upward.

A gesture that was beginning to amuse him. He stepped toward her, crowding her against the wall she hugged, and stuck his hand between her legs, cupping her sex. "If you say it again, I will leave you here. And we will never know. This isn't punishment. It's not rape. We shed our clothes; we shed who we are." A shoulder lifted in an easy shrug. "When we are done, we resume the battle. I find I enjoy your resistance."

Her mouth opened around ragged breaths. "I won't be used. My surrender won't be held up for you to mock later."

"Lady Captain, we will use each other. Whatever passion we share remains between us." He held her stare, keeping his expression set, waiting for her to decide.

Without breaking with his gaze, she squeezed her thighs together, trapping his hand. "I'm not some pleasure thrall."

"Are you telling me this because you lack skill and fear I'll be disappointed?" he drawled.

"I could care less whether you are disappointed," she spat.

He leaned closer and trailed his lips across her forehead.

She jerked and turned away, her chest trembling around her quickening breaths.

"Why do you resist me? We can both seek our pleasure. You are as aroused as I am." He pressed his fingers harder against her sex.

Her head swung back. Stark longing mixed with rage were reflected in her amber gaze. "You are my enemy."

"Then treat this like another form of battle."

Her jaw tensed, her lips firming, but she rolled her hips, a slight, shallow movement that ground her pussy against his palm as moisture soaked through to wet it.

He held her there, giving free rein to his arousal. His heart beat like a skin drum, pulse quickening at his temples and his groin. He strummed his fingers over her clothed folds and moved in to trap her chest.

Her hands came up to push at his shoulders. "I fight because I should," she whispered.

Dagr gave a curt nod, then bent to cover her mouth, plunging into moist heat. She tasted exotic, smelled of musk and sweat, not too pungent, but tantalizing enough to capture his arousal, full-blown and surging to rut against her.

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

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

Eliza Gayle

Emma Petersen

HelenKay Dimon

Jody Wallace

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Shelli Stevens

Taige Crenshaw

TJ Michaels

TGIF!

The "Dress Elvis" contest is still running! See yesterday's blog for details. Comment to win! ~DD

Today, I'm heading to Little Rock. I have a doctor's appointment. Sis is staying in a hotel there with the wrestling team (I promise that's not as interesting as it sounds!). We'll meet before noon and have a write-in at Starbucks. We don't get together as often as we'd like because she lives over four hours away. I'm hoping to get a major word count under my belt, but we tend to brainstorm and make big plans. We'll be talk-talk-talking away. Then Saturday, I'll be reviewing my goals and groaning because I'll have a ton of catch-up to do.

I want to finish two things by the first of March. A quickie for Ellora's Cave and the next free chapter of Cat Tails. If I can keep focused, I will. HOWEVER, Sunday is hosed as well because I'll be meeting Shayla Kersten in Little Rock for some Diamond State Romance Authors business. Sheesh. Where did February go?

I should be jazzed about the three things I'm currently writing, but I'm majorly distracted by the Girls Who Bite project. I'm really excited about the anthology. Really love the stories that will be in the volume. I have some fun things I'm planning for the launch, and the ladies, for the most part, are game to play. Remember, the book is ready for pre-order and has a reduced price. FOR NOW. So if you think you're interested, now is the time to reserve a copy so you can take advantage of the low price. You can click on the cover in the carousel to the left and you'll go straight to Amazon.

I hope your Friday passes quickly for you and that the weekend is spent either with someone you care about or with a very dirty book!

"Dress Elvis" contest!

I still have a prize to give away to one lucky winner that I bought at one of Graceland's shops. It's an Elvis dress up doll! You know—a magnetic paper doll thingie that you can stick to a white board, a filing cabinet or a fridge! Yes, Elvis, with several changes of clothes—and his dog! Woohoo! *throws confetti*

So, if you'd like a chance to win it, post a comment on my blog. And if you'd like more than one chance (who buys just one lottery ticket?!), post tomorrow and Saturday too! On Sunday morning, I'll announce the winner!

Just so you have something to post a comment about, here's a question for you…

What is your biggest pet peeve?