Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 545

Double the Fun!

NaNo Day 11:

Viking-2—2283 words

TW—0 words

Yesterday, I got word that two short stories I'd written for Cleis anthologies are going to be published! So, I'm sharing pictures of the covers. [Click on the covers to head to Amazon and order them!]

Carnal Machines won't be out until May 1, 2011, but it's never to early to place a great collection on pre-order (hint, hint). My own contribution is called Dr. Mullaley's Cure. It was my first attempt at Steampunk and so enjoyable to write, I'm thinking about doing more.

Remember the award-winning Lesbian Cowboys? Lesbian Cops is another such offering from editor Sacchi Green. I write about two small-town female cops who come together. My female protagonist was hard-edged, but with a wicked edge of humor. I completely loved writing her. This one's coming April 1, 2011.

Guest Blogger: Marie Harte

NaNo Day 10:

Viking-2—1671 words

TW—462 words

A Reader's Top Ten Guide for A Great Romance

by Marie Harte

Thanks, Delilah, for letting me blog here today. I wanted to write something different, so I switched hats from writer to reader. And I was off and running…

As a writer, I like to know what readers want. I'm not so much into trends. I don't like jumping on the vampire bandwagon just because those books might be popular. If I have an actual vampire story in mind, that's something else. I'm talking about common threads that appeal to readers. Strong heroines, alpha males, sexual tension, that kind of thing.

Then I had a thought. Hey, I'm a reader. Why not list what I'm looking for in a story? I can read a three to four hundred page book in one sitting in a few hours, easy. I can't say how many books I read in a month or year, but during my crazy (book-obsessed) days that fluctuate from month to month in between deadlines, I can easily read two or three in a day, especially if the stories are shorter. Of course, a lot of that depends on time, too, because I do have a family and a day job writing.

From what I've read and seen over the years, I have a lot in common with the average Sally Reader. So here's my top ten list of what constitutes a great romance, in no particular order.

1. Likeable characters. The hero and heroine (or hero and hero, whatever floats your boat) don't have to be the nicest people on the planet, but at some point they have to be likeable, and not ten pages from the end. There's nothing worse than trying to read a book about people that are either whiny, annoying, or TSTL (too stupid to live) for 350 pages.

2. Sexual tension. I write erotic romance, and I like to read it. But when the characters hop into bed on page 3, it kind of takes away my enjoyment to see them struggle for it. Now a few authors have made this work by throwing in the requisite plot problems and angst, but by and large the easy hookup doesn't appeal to me.

3. Gratuitous sex. Yes, I feel awful for saying this. Especially since for so many years I read stories where the characters could barely hold hands before the author cut to a new scene. Erotic romance has "erotic" in the title for a reason. It involves sex. But sex for sex's sake shows. When the physical builds the emotional, it works. You can tell when it doesn't.

4. The right angst. I am drawn to tortured heroes and heroines. I think we all are. It's normal to want to see people build themselves back up after being thrown down a peg or two. But when the characters suffer page after page after page, it takes away from the joy to be had in the story. And real or not, rape scenes do nothing for me. I don't like reading about it, and I don't even like references to it with the main characters. Then again, that's a personal pet peeve, but we are talking fiction, a place where anything normally goes. And hey, this is my list.

5. Character growth. I find it common anymore to read a book where one of the two characters grows but the other remains stagnant. It's like the author puts so much into making the heroine a strong woman, she forgets that the hero is more than a foil for the heroine, but an actual part of the story. Let him grow too, damn it!

6. Humor. Just because a book is dark doesn't mean it can't have funny moments. Fiction mirrors reality, right? Well, people do laugh at funerals. Life isn't all one shade, but a rainbow of emotion. Throw it all in there, I say.

7. Believable conflict. There's nothing worse than reading a story where the hero and heroine don't get along because of a simple misunderstanding. One short conversation between the pair would eliminate all problems and make the whole story crumble. That's not believable conflict. Layer stuff in there, make us, the readers, want to see how they solve their problems. A phone call where the heroine admits she threw out his favorite shirt, and she's sorry, and why can't they all just get along, doesn't cut it.

8. Chemistry. The main characters have to have it, or the story won't work. Just because an author creates the pair or threesome or group involved doesn't mean they fit. And yeah, I've read romances where the hero seems better suited to a secondary character and the heroine should be lesbian. It's like the author doesn't know her characters.

9. If everyone's special, no one's special. One author I used to love and now can't read anymore gives all her characters god powers. Yeah, all of them. They're all immortal, so where's the scare factor? Why should the characters worry when they can snap their fingers and have an HEA whenever they want? And seriously, is every character really that handsome, pretty, white, skinny-with-boobs or tall?

10. Don't break the rules. Authors create worlds and a set of rules that go with them. So when I read about a hero who can't do X, then thirty pages in does X, it annoys me, especially if there's no explanation as to why he can do X. It's like the author has forgotten her own rules. Sure there are exceptions to the rules, but if there are too many, why have the rules in the first place?

I love to read and always will. But as my budget gets tighter, my choices in what I read narrow. I might chance a new author when all my favorites have nothing out, but burn me once, and I probably won't be back to read more. Even my favorites have only so much leeway before I'm moving on to someone new. And with the sheer breadth of choices out there, thanks to epublishing and our friend, the Internet, I don't have to search far and wide for a new and temping read anymore.

Happy reading!

Marie

www.marieharte.com

Bleary-eyed Today

NaNo Day 9:

Viking-2—2075 words

TW—0 words—new project, and stalling!

Psst! Yesterday's winner is located at the bottom of this post.

I took a sleeping pill last night because I wanted to be in bed at 6 PM to catch up on rest. I was feeling dizzy and had a headache. Usually, I take a pill and I'm awake about three hours later. This time, I slept 10 1/2 hours straight. Now, I have a back ache.

I have been hitting the keyboard hard these past few weeks. NaNo is just a support. I started a week before that after scaring myself silly with a glance at the word count I had to make to finish everything on time.

So far, one of four things is done. The short story for the Girls Who Bite anthology. The Viking story is well underway—I have about 130 pages to go. I'm at page 73 of Girls Who Bite. I have to keep reading through submissions to piece together the rest of the 260 pages, but I see no problems there. Today, I MUST start the last story due by end of month. It's intimidating me because I like to take time over openings, but I have to jump right in this time.

It's 5:30 AM. As you can tell, I'm a little dull-headed still. Hopefully, I can nudge Mr. Muse from the ether where he sleeps and we can get started soon.

Yesterday's winner of a free download of Unleashing the Tiger is…Ilona! Ilona, congrats! Email me to let me know what addy want the story sent to.

Flashback: Unleashing the Tiger

NaNo Day 8:

Viking-2—2286 words

GWB-Me—1049 words–and complete!

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

for a free download of this book!

NaNo's kickin' my ass, but I'm slogging forward. I wrapped up my contribution to the Girls Who Bite anthology, and I've started playing with the order of the stories. I'm not nearly through all the submissions, but a few standouts have made the cut so far. I'm 132 pages from the end of the second Viking story. I'm writing wildly, and hoping that something wonderful is waiting under all that mess for me to polish into gold. Tomorrow, I begin a new story, also due at the end of this month. Is it really the 9th! Frick! Have to up my daily dose of caffeine.

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

"…Delilah Devlin packs a powerful punch with ALTERED STATES: UNLEASHING THE TIGER…Ms. Devlin creates a beautiful romance with a paranormal twist that gives the readers what they are asking for and so much more…"

5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews

"…I thought [the choice of hero] was a brave and unusual choice for the author to make…It was definitely worth the read…"

4.5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

"…I really liked this book for its very sensuous love scenes…I loved how Khalid's character was portrayed as very alpha yet he was so tender with Casey…This short story moves along swiftly with a mixture of military action, intelligent yet amusing dialogue, and red hot sex to keep the reader thoroughly entertained."

4 Hearts, The Romance Studio

An analyst in a secret government agency, Casey McTaggert's professional life has been dedicated to the capture of one suspected terrorist. Even before she's abducted by Khalid in the midst of a firefight, she's completely fascinated with the man they call the "The Tiger." But what began as a professional obsession quickly becomes lust as his dark, Persian features and harshly hewn body awaken a forbidden passion.

Khalid Razeh can't fight the genetic programming that makes him shift into a tiger any more than he can resist the sensual allure of his lovely hostage. While forcing her to accompany him on one last mission, he fights the overwhelming attraction, knowing that he is walking into a trap that will end in death. Casey's tender lovemaking and growing belief in his innocence are a sweet balm to his wild, savage soul.

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

Khalid watched the woman's mobile mouth curve into a mischievous smile. She had no idea how close he was to pouncing. Her scent beneath the sweat and dirt teased his nostrils like the flick of a cat's tail, tugging at his cock, which jerked against the smooth leather case he'd perched on his lap.

Never had he been so distracted from his purpose. Just another thing he hated about the changes in him. He seemed to have lost control over his ability to shut out physical needs. His mind was no longer the captain of his body.

It was just an added irritant that he really did need her to accompany him. The woman obviously spent too much time in a sheltered cubicle—far from the harsh glare of reality. Her unshakeable enthusiasm and curiosity contradicted the image of the stale, world-weary analyst he would have conjured. She was almost…innocent…in her wonder.

His instinct for self-preservation reared up, reminding him not to relax his guard in her disarming presence. She was a woman—an attractive one despite the wire-rimmed glasses sliding down her nose and the messy knot of blonde hair pulled tight at the back of her head. The prim suit hugged slender curves, almost boyish in their lack of definition. Her legs, however, were extraordinary.

Neat, slender ankles, long straight calves and smooth round knees.

His cock approved, straining against the case.

"Do you know how?" she asked, her eyes shining in the moonlight with a hopeful glitter.

Most assuredly, he knew how. But he did not think he was responding to the correct question. He shook himself and looked around. The truck. "Yes. I can…hotwire it. Cut the engine."

With the M-19 he'd "acquired" back at the wall strung over his shoulder, he bounded from the vehicle, supremely aware of the wag of his rigid cock. He didn't bother to turn away from her. Better she should know her affect on him now. Perhaps it would curb her enthusiasm.



Her gasp was gratifying, but he ignored her and strode barefoot to the dented truck.

Minutes later, he sat behind the wheel, glad to have something else to occupy his attention—besides her ripening arousal.

He could smell it. The scent wafted in the air, a tantalizing mix of baby powder and feminine musk.

She shifted on the seat beside him as he pulled out onto the road and cleared her throat. "Daylight's gonna be upon us soon."

Daylight meant time to rest. The tiger inside him was a nocturnal creature. Besides they'd be more easily spotted in the light of day. Which meant there was time for other horizontal activities. The woman's arousal left his own unabated. A distraction he could alleviate if she were willing.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she fidgeted and tucked a straggling strand of hair behind her ear. Her movements were jerky. He needed her relaxed. Pliant.

Women loved to talk, he recalled. "You don't sound like you're from Washington," he said, keeping his eyes on the highway stretching before him.

"I'm not. I'm from Oklahoma."

"I don't hear the twang."

"Well, when you're blonde and blue-eyed and you have a thick accent, no one takes you seriously."

"I take you seriously." He turned to give her a look filled with sensual promise. "I thought you should know," he said softly, curious now to see her response.

She blinked rapidly, her expression dumbfounded. "You mean…as a spy-catcher?"

Did she possess no confidence in her sensual appeal? He frowned. "I take you seriously—as a woman I intend to fuck."

Her jaw dropped open.

He fought the urge to smile, not wanting her to think he was only teasing her to amuse himself. "Why do you think I brought you and not one of the soldiers back there?"

"Because I was the only woman and you could more easily subdue me?"

"You weren't the only woman there. But you were the only one who smelled aroused."

"What?"

"Before the attack, the scent was fading, but I caught it still. I was drawn by it. Were you flirting with the soldier who shoved you out of the helicopter?"

"I certainly wasn't flirting. And I certainly wasn't aroused!"

He liked her embarrassed outrage and it amused him how easily she could be riled. "You're aroused now." He dragged a deep breath into his nostrils. "You can't lie to me about that. One good thing about the changes in my body. I have an excellent sense of smell. I can smell arousal and fear. I was curious at first about your absence of fear. Now, I realize it's because you haven't any better sense."

"That's…that's insulting!" she sputtered. "I have plenty of common sense. I'm not really afraid because these things are all new to me. I'm still…processing."

"You sound like a computer."

"I work closely with one."

"You make it sound like a friend."

"It's an AI—we have the most fascinating conversations."

"I bet you do."

A long pause stretched between them, then…

"Besides, we don't have time to fuck."

A smile stretched his mouth. She was thinking about lying with him. "Sure we do. We have to find a place to hide before daylight rises and wait until the stores open. I might get arrested in this condition."

Her gaze dipped to his cock and her cheeks flamed. "Right. An arrest for indecent exposure would cap a really hellish night."

He rolled down his window, letting the cool night air fill the cab, enjoying the brush of it over his skin. But it did nothing to cool his ardor.

Then he saw the gravel track to the right that led to a copse of trees in the distance. He followed the rutted road away from the highway, far from any sign of human habitation, and parked the truck. Determined now, he let himself out of the cab. He smelled water nearby and followed his nose.

A door slammed behind him and Casey followed more slowly into the shadows cast by moonlight filtering through leaves. "Do you need to visit the bushes for some privacy?"

"No. But we'll stay here until the stores open in the next town." He pushed back more branches, forging a trail.

"So, tell me," she said, trailing behind him and sounding a little breathless. "Just how do you think you're going to go into town naked and buy clothes?"

"I'll stay here. You'll go."

Her footsteps ground to a halt. "Why would you trust me not to call the agency?"

Khalid's gaze captured hers. "By the time you leave for the store, you'll do anything I ask."

She gave a short gust of laughter. "And you're going to persuade me how?"

"I'm going to show you what kind of man I really am—you will believe in me." He continued toward the sound of running water.

"I'm not some Pollyanna," she said, stomping in dried leaves. "I don't believe the world's a happy place, and I know what kinds of atrocities 'good' men can commit against each other. Why do you think I'll believe you—and help you, for God's sake?"

He halted again and turned back to face her. "Because you already believe in me—and you're dying to know what happens next. Take off your clothes."

Her eyes widened like saucers in the moonlight. "I will not!"

"Suit yourself." He turned and parted the brush, slipping through it and into a clearing at the edge of a narrow stream.

He wasn't disappointed long. Casey crashed through the vines and branches behind him, emerging with her hair straggling around her shoulders.

Not waiting for her reaction, he set his weapon against a tree and stepped into the stream, wading toward the center. The water came to only mid-thigh, so he knelt and let the fresh coolness sweep between his thighs and around his raging cock.

"You could have mentioned the creek," she grumbled.

"I did not wish to agitate you further. I prefer to begin sex with a clean body."

"I wish you'd stop saying that. You're just doing that to discomfit me."

Khalid couldn't help the grin stretching his lips. "You think I'm wearing this erection because I want to annoy you?"

"It doesn't take much to get a guy going." Under her breath, she added, "I know that much."

"You think I get this way around any woman?"

"Any woman who smells of arousal apparently—or so you said." She sounded grumpy, edgy. She smelled deliciously horny.

"Casey McTaggert, take off your clothes and join with me."

Her hands fisted at her sides. "This is ridiculous. I'm on a mission. I can't compromise myself."

"We are on the same side," he said softly.

"Are we?" she asked, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm not so sure any more."

"You like being right," he said, softly, seductively. "Why do you doubt yourself now?"

"Because…" Her eyes glittered in the darkness. "I'm not used to wanting anything this much."

"Ahhh…" He nodded. "You are missing holes—huge caverns—in your notes. Will you not fill them? Won't you let me…fill them?"

"I don't like being a source of amusement," she said, her voice tight now.

"You think I ridicule you?"

"Look at me," she said, spreading wide her arms. "I'm not exactly…fuckworthy."

She believed it—he could see it in her pink cheeks. "Why not let me be the judge?"

She drew a ragged breath and stepped closer to the edge of the creek. "This is like recreational sex, right? Just to get the tension out?"

"Are you very tense?"

Her quick nod was terse.

"Then, yes. We will have recreational sex. But you still have to remove your clothes."

She swallowed and cast a wild glance around them. "Is the water clean? Cows aren't peeing in it upstream?"

"Where is your optimism? Of course it's clean. I smelled it, too."

"You don't know how unsexy that nose of yours is becoming."

"But you will take off your clothes?"

Her eyes closed momentarily. "You do know I'll have to report everything we do? Even this, however embarrassing."

"By the time you do, this will all be over. Your mission at an end. Your subject completely revealed."

She sighed as though this was a great effort. "How about turning around until I'm in the water."

"It's dark here."

"Along with that awesome hooked nose of yours, I know you also have enhanced night vision."

"I'm going to taste every inch of you, Casey. Do you think I'll keep my eyes closed the entire time?"

She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. "Guess not."

His heart pounded faster when she shrugged off the jacket and turned to hang it on a branch.

"I feel like there ought to be some cheesy music playing."

"I prefer the sound of the water. It's soothing."

"If you say so." She ducked her head and unbuttoned the row of tiny buttons down the front of her blouse, then gave him a quick, nervous glance before opening it and letting it too slip from her shoulders. The pale cups of her bra glowed in the moonlight.

Khalid's balls tightened, drawing closer to his groin. He dropped his hand below the surface of the water and caressed his cock, warming it with his hand.

The skirt quickly followed as did the frayed hose and her plain pumps. When she stood, looking awkward in just her underwear, he turned his back.

The sound of silky garments sliding over smooth skin sent shivers down his neck. His skin prickled with awareness.

The first sloshing sounds had his back stiffening, fighting the urge to turn toward her and gather her close. He needed so badly to sink inside her body—find ease for the ache in his groin, growing more painful by the moment.

But he let her make her own way toward him, timidly, hesitantly.

What he didn't expect was that she would circle him to stand in front of him as he knelt.

Her hands settled on his shoulders. "I'm not sure what happens next…what you want."

His gaze roamed her small, round breasts and the narrow curve of her waist. Afraid to touch her, he gripped his thighs under the water and leaned forward to take her nipple between his teeth.

Her nails bit into his shoulders as his teeth nipped the hardening bud.

"Aw, God," she moaned and leaned closer, pressing her breast deeper into his mouth.

He opened wide, sucking her breast into his mouth, working the nipple with the flat of his tongue. The velvet softness of her areola invited the stroke of his tongue, so he circled it, pausing to gently chew her hardened nipple.

Still, he didn't reach out to hold her. He feared he'd leave bruises if he did now.

"Khalid, please, please," she moaned. She widened her legs and her rich, ripe scent filled his nostrils.

He let go of her breast and moved across to the other, nudging it with his nose while he breathed in her delicate scent. When his teeth closed around this nipple, she shivered and her hands clasped the back of his head.

Khalid liked the way her fingers sank into his hair to curve around his scalp. She combed through his hair, dragging hard when he suckled deeply. He released her breast but continued to lap her skin with his tongue, laving the soft underside of her breasts, then working his way down her quivering belly. Groaning, he traced the contour of her belly button, pressing his tongue hard against the soft button and enjoying the throaty moan it produced.

Then he leaned down to lick his way toward her sex. Crisp, clean hair—curling, but soft—tickled his nose and her legs widened again, inviting him lower still. When he tongued her cream-coated folds, his sex jerked between his legs.

"Oh God," she groaned, her fingers tightening around his head.

Khalid sucked on her outer lips, savoring her salty-musk flavor. His whole body tightened against the overpowering need to plunge inside her…fuck deep into her moist, hot core.

"Inside me," she whispered. She pulsed her hips, her movements a little jerky. "Lick inside me, please, Khalid."

With his own body shivering now with restrained lust, he let go of her thighs and lifted his hands to carefully part her folds. His thumbs opened her like the petals of a fragrant rose. He slipped his tongue between the petals and he hardened the tip to spear inside her.

A deep shudder racked her slender frame and she cried out, her whole body growing rigid as she strained against him. "Please, please…more."

Allah! He'd not known a woman's softness or her many flavors in so long. He'd withheld himself, kept true to his faith. But his hunger, his beast's hunger, overrode his strict personal code to do no harm.

He meant to devour her.

Too sexy

NaNo Day 7:

Viking-2—1688 words

GWB-Me—384 words

Just a little something to give you a lift. Wonder what he's thinking.

Ouch, this hard bench hurts my back?

I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for pants, so sexy it hurts…

What do you think's running through his mind?

Sunday Report Card

NaNo Day 6:

Viking-2—1819 words

GWB-Me—603 words

Since this time last week, I've written 70 pages of Viking story and am smack in the middle of chapter 14; I plotted and wrote 13 pages of my short story for Girls Who Bite; and I've been doing a lot of thinking about a new BDSM story—hey, thinking counts as progress!

I'm not fried yet, but I still have 3 weeks to go. Wait and see if I'm still sane or babbling and drooling on my keyboard by then.

I hope to keep healthy and focused for another week. I want to be done with the short story, I want to be done with chapter 17 of the Viking thing, and I want to have started a new story. Why do you ask? Okay, so maybe you really don't care enough to wonder, but I have to have something new started before I finish the Viking thing or I'll wallow in "what do I do now?" and not make any progress at all. When I'm pumped about one book, it's time to start the next.

All you fellow NaNo'ers—let's have another awesome week!

What can you readers do to help a girl out? I do need a cheering squad. Lots of "Rah-Rahs" and pretty pom-poms shaking. And if you've read a book lately, be sure to post a review, tag it, or star it. Those little things do count.

Snippet Saturday: Bring me a tissue (waaaah!)

NaNo Day 5:

Viking-2—2136 words

GWB-Me—277 words

If y'all know me, you are well aware that my characters aren't made of mush. It takes a lot to knock the stuffing out the man or the woman. I don't do it often because I'm not an overly sentimental girl myself. That's not to say that you won't find emotion, a lot of it, usually best expressed when the characters are at their most vulnerable.

In this excerpt, one of my favorite heroes, Quentin, is made especially vulnerable due to his worry for his mate. I was especially cruel to readers of this story, because while the story starts with Darcy and Quinton, it shifts to others who will join in a hunt for one of their fallen's killer. I didn't tell the rest of this couple's story until book seven.

Here's a snippet to show you what I'm talking about. It's from Silver Bullet, the sixth book in the Immortal Knight series.

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

He met her at the water's edge as she returned from her solitary walk, her bare feet sand-encrusted and her steps slow and measured. One hand pressed the small of her back—a disquieting gesture that caused him no small amount of alarm. The purple of dusk was reflected in the circles beneath her beautiful brown eyes.

"Darcy-love, why didn't you wait?" Quentin Albermarle slipped his arm around his wife's slender back, not surprised when she leaned into him to share her burden.

"You wouldn't have enjoyed yourself." She lifted her head to stare into his eyes, one brow arching in amusement. "I wanted to watch the sunset."

Her teasing smile warmed his soul. How had he lived before knowing her? Now, he couldn't remember a night that didn't begin and end with her. "Well, you have me there," he said softly. "Sunset's not something I'd find the least bit pleasant." He turned her in his arms and settled his chin on the top of her head as his hands circled her stretched-taut belly. "Still, I'd prefer it if someone accompanied you when I can't be here. It isn't safe," he admonished her lazily, enjoying the breeze that lifted her dark hair to float against his chest and the pleasure of her warm body aligned with his. "It's not like we haven't enough hirelings to spare one for your walks."

"I wanted a little alone time and it was light when I started." She shrugged. "I guess I'm walking a little slow these days."

Quentin's jaw clenched at the familiar fear that struck him. Her ordeal wouldn't be something he could conquer for her. And he suspected the Lamaze classes he'd endured at her insistence were as much for his benefit as hers.

Taking a deep breath, he let the air hiss between his teeth and watched the slim gold line that rimmed the navy sea blink out. "More reason to stay inside The Compound, don't you think?"

"The walk was nice. I can't get too flabby or I'll have hell getting back in shape for work."

Quentin had his own thoughts about how she looked—her features were a little less lean, but softer and more feminine. He also had rather strong thoughts about whether she should ever return to the police force. But there was time for that discussion later. "You're beautiful and wearing my favorite shade of blue."

Darcy looked down at her sky-blue sundress and snorted. "You know darn well it's the color of your eyes."

"I know. Seeing you in it makes me feel like my ownership's stamped all over you."

"I'm wearing your colors, hmmm? You are a primitive man at heart. I like that."

"And feeling downright primal at the moment. I didn't like not finding you beside me when I woke," he let his words rumble, then admitted the truth, "I was worried."

"I'm sorry. I was restless waiting for you to wake from your beauty rest. Besides, I only have to worry about the things that go bump in the night, right?"

He nuzzled her neck, breathing in her fragrance—her mother's raspberry soap and her own feminine musk. "Were-bastards don't fry in the sunshine," he growled, knowing his comment would get a rise out of her.

"Hush!" she said, smacking his hand. "No name-calling. Remember, Max is my friend."

He smiled into her hair and lightly squeezed her belly. The child within complained and delivered a solid kick just beneath his hand. "I was thinking of dear old Max when I said it."

"You really need to learn to get along with him. I know he's a little intense, what with him hating vamps in general, but Pia has him leashed."

"That's what has me worried. That walking disaster paired with a werewolf—it's a wonder she's not hacking up hairballs."

"Wrong species." She giggled. A lovely tinkling sound, all the more precious because she didn't do it often.

He snorted. "Just plain wrong, if you ask me."

Darcy cleared her throat. "Speaking of which, when's the plane coming in?"

"It'll touch down in about fifteen minutes. Then wait until Navarro gets a look at our new pet. Don't be surprised if we see fur flying."

She tilted back her head to look into his eyes, her expression a little pinched. "This Navarro…is he a good guy?"

Quentin shrugged. "He's one of us."

Her eyebrows rose. "Oh, and that's supposed to be reassuring?"

"I'm a good guy," Quentin said softly. "Trust me to make sure introductions are handled appropriately."

"The way you say that—all British and proper…" She shivered. "…does things to me." Then her expression grew serious. "All right, Quentin, I'll trust you so long as you make sure he gives Max a fair chance to prove he's part of the team."

Quentin snorted again.

"Now you have to admit the guy's been a big help tracking the remnants of that rabid wolf pack."

Quentin wasn't ready to give the were any credit. "Takes a dog to sniff another out," he mumbled.

Her nose wrinkled. "You're so prejudiced."

"I have reason to be." Then wishing to end a conversation that caused her distress, he kissed her lips.

With a sigh, she surrendered her body, leaning more heavily against him. Her mouth opened beneath his, and his tongue lapped inside. She returned soft loving strokes that had him hard as a doorknob in seconds.

He dragged away his mouth, glad the breeze off the ocean was whipping up enough to cool his overheated skin. "Witch," he whispered.

"What did I do?" she asked, wide-eyed.

The curve of her lips told him she felt his frustration. He narrowed his gaze. "Just you wait…"

"Won't be long now." She rubbed her bottom against his arousal.

What could a vampire do to stop the woman he loves from teasing him into full-fanged arousal? He dragged his teeth along the side of her throat in a silent warning to behave.

"And that's supposed to scare me?" Soft laughter shook her body. "You shouldn't use the same tactic to make me horny."

His breath gusted in a short laugh. "Bugger, is that the problem?"

"Someday you're going to tell me what it is you have against weres." She turned in his arms and stared up, moonlight reflecting in her eyes. "And I should be a little angry about the way you always use sex to change the conversation."

With her large belly between them, Quentin's lips twitched. "This from the woman who's discovered the ultimate distraction method of digital manipulation—"

Darcy pressed her finger against his lips to halt his words. "You're not doing it again."

Quentin raised his eyebrows in question.

"Changing the subject." She huffed a long sigh. "I'm worried about Max meeting Navarro. We're only just getting used to the fact he's Lycan, and now Navarro's coming from the Northwest council because of this problem with another Powell brother. Things are happening too fast."

Quentin glared. He opened his mouth to give her a glib answer, but her finger mashed his lips.

"What, you have something to say?" Her finger swirled on his lips then lingered a moment until he dutifully kissed the tip.

When she withdrew it, he said, "Is the problem that you think Navarro won't listen, or that Max is going to misbehave?"

Darcy's brows drew together. "Both."

He gave an exaggerated sigh. "You're going to make me intervene on his behalf, aren't you?" Damn! He wished she didn't care so much about the wolf.

"Maybe. Is Navarro really going to give him a fair shake, or will he do what's expedient? I mean, I know vamps and weres have this long history of warfare between the species."

"Navarro isn't one to make 'expedient' decisions. Hell, I'd second him if he did in this case. But Navarro's…deep, likes to consider things before he acts. Now if it were up to me…"

"I know, you'd have poor Max's were-head mounted on the wall."

"Poor Max?" Quentin grinned. He couldn't help it. The thought of Max's head glowering above the mantel cheered him considerably. But Darcy's darkening expression had him saying, "You think I'd want that ugly mug of his preserved?"

"Quentin! This isn't funny. I'm scared." The frown still marring her brow, Darcy played with a button on the front of his shirt. "I don't get why you're so set against him."

"I have my reasons," he said, folding her upper body closer to his chest.

"Well, that certainly fills in the blanks." Her nose nuzzled his neck, and she sighed. "You know, it's not fair that you have this long past I don't know anything about."

"Ask me anything," he said, his voice gruff. "I'll tell you what I can."

She leaned away. "Really?"

Quentin hadn't realized how important the issue was until her expression softened and her eyes grew moist. He cupped her face between his palms. "I'm yours, Darcy," he whispered fiercely, "body, soul and endless history. I'll bore you to tears with the retelling of all the mundane facts of my misspent youth."

Despite the moisture welling in her eyes, Darcy's lips curved in a wry smile. "I know I won't be bored. Just finding out how you first met Dylan will likely be enough to satisfy my curiosity for weeks." A shadow crossed her face. "But not now. I'm a little tired."

Downplaying his worry, he smiled. "Come rest a while with me?"

"You just got out of bed."

He waggled his eyebrows. "I'll hold you."

"You know what that usually leads to," Darcy said, arching a brow.

"Have I been too demanding?" he asked, his tone mild, knowing she'd rise once again to the bait.

"Not at all, as you damn well know." She swatted his chest with her open palm. "I'm frustrated as hell!"

He leaned toward her and nuzzled her ear. "Haven't I pleased you?" he growled.

Her breath hitched, and she groaned. "You know you have. Your mouth makes me crazy—the fact my belly's so big I can't watch you drives me even crazier. But I want to please you, too."

"Soon enough, love," he said, wishing he had her turned so he could rub his aching cock against her bottom for relief. As it was, her belly prevented any contact. "This never-ending erection is my penance."

"Why do you owe a penance?"

He shuttered his expression from her knowing glance.

But she was too attuned to his moods. Her head tilted and she smoothed a hand over his cheek. "I know it's hard for you. This isn't your child. I don't blame you a bit for being resentful."

He closed his eyes. "This child will be ours in every way except its conception." He meant it. He really did.

"I know that." She touched his forehead. "You know that." Then she placed her hand on his chest. "But your heart doesn't. Don't feel guilty about the way you feel." Her eyes shone with love and acceptance.

Funny, sometimes he thought he could see his whole world in her eyes.

"Everything will be all right," she said softly. "You'll see."

He turned his head and placed a kiss in her palm, too overcome for the moment to reply.

Another movement in her belly distracted him. This time it felt like the baby rolled inside her.

Darcy grimaced and moaned softly.

"Is something wrong?"

"My back aches, and I've been having…twinges."

His heart stilled. "Is it the baby? Is it coming?"

"I think so."

"You think so?" he asked, panic rising to constrict his throat. "How long have you known?"

"Since mid-afternoon—I thought a walk might help quicken this whole thing."

"You knew you were in labor and you went for a walk alone?" This time he shouted.

"Uh-huh," Darcy admitted, a smug little smile tilting one side of her mouth. That expression looked familiar.

"Fucking hell!" I'm in a panic—and she's smirking at me! "Quick," he said, turning her to walk back to The Compound, "we need to get you to the hospital."

Darcy laughed and grabbed for his hand. "There's no rush. I've been timing the contractions."

"Timing the…contractions?" he parroted, his voice rising. "That's what I've been feeling? I thought the baby was kicking wobblers."

Another grimace crossed Darcy's face.

Quentin cursed beneath his breath. Through letting her call the shots, he lifted her into his arms and strode toward The Compound. "Not another word, ridiculous woman."

As he approached the gate, the floodlights that were set to detect motion failed to light. He slowed his steps, the hair lifting on the back of his neck.

Darcy stiffened in his arms.

"I know," he whispered, noting the lack of human guards around the perimeter. "Something's wrong."

"Put me down."

He did and quickly shoved her toward deep foliage next to the wall. "Wait here."

"Like hell!" she hissed. "What if the trouble's out here? Vamps and weres both have a great sense of smell."

"All right," he said in a clipped tone, damning himself for his carelessness. With the wind coming off the ocean, he'd found no scent to give him warning. He punched the security code on the touch pad. The lock on the gate released with a soft snick. He slipped through and held it open for Darcy.

Once inside the wall, he noted the stillness—no hint of the guards' movements, no distant murmurs of conversation. He sniffed the air and froze, finding the scent he feared most.

Wolves!

"Damn him to hell!" he gritted out, rage already hardening his body.

"Who?" Darcy said, clutching his arm.

"Our pet!" he spat. "He's brought friends."

With Darcy matching his steps behind him, Quentin crept into the courtyard, past the flowering bougainvillea and palms, past the edge of the tiled patio to peer inside the darkened living room.

Darcy shouldered her way into position beside him. "We have wolves—plural—in The Compound?"

"Stay behind me."

"But Lily," she said, a note of fear entering her voice, "they're here for Lily. We have to get to her."

"Once in the house, you will run straight for the panic room. Today, you're not a cop, Darcy. I'll take care of Lily."

"All right, but Quentin," she said, tugging at his sleeve, "this isn't Max's doing."

"Then why didn't he sound the alarm? He and Pia are supposed to be the watch tonight."

"I don't know. But I do know he couldn't do this. He wouldn't betray us."

"Be quiet now, love. Remember what I said. Get to the panic room." He opened the door and let Darcy slip past him to make an awkward dash for the stairway. The panic room was along the upper corridor. He followed behind her, facing the opposite direction, waiting for a foe to charge up the stairs and cursing the fact he hadn't brought a weapon other than the silver-bladed knife strapped to his ankle.

What had he been thinking? The weres in the area appeared to be conquered. The few stragglers of the pack that had wreaked havoc in Vero Beach had been easy to find—they'd left bloody trails in their wake.

In retrospect, they'd been too easy to find.

As Quentin braced himself for the fight of his life, his mind raced. Where were the human guards? He detected no scent of death in the air. And what of Pia and Max? If Max wasn't responsible for the breach in security, then who was?

A gasp erupted behind him, and he whirled to see three weres in varying forms of transformation creeping down the hallway toward them.

As he faced them, deep-throated snarls erupted from the wolves.

The newly installed panic room lay just beyond the three. Quentin guessed they had been about to enter, so at least he knew where Lily was.

He pushed past Darcy and shoved her against the wall, bending at the last moment to slide his knife from beneath his pant leg. "Watch for your break," he shouted.

Still crouched low, he summoned the beast inside, letting his body bulk out with just enough of the monster to even up the odds. When his shirt strained across his shoulders, he lunged at the closest of the wolves—a brindle bastard, fully transformed and nearly foaming at the mouth.

They met in midair. Quentin rolled with him, coming up on his feet after slashing deep into the wolf's neck. The next, a dark-furred cur, caught him from behind and knocked him to the ground.

Darcy shouted and a shot rang out.

Quentin couldn't look back. He kicked backward and grabbed for the muzzle locked around the top of his right shoulder. Adrenaline and rage numbed him to the pain of teeth sinking deep into muscle.

The knife traded hands, and Quentin stabbed over his shoulder, hoping to spear eyes. When the wolf broke his hold with a screeching whine, Quentin came to his knees and slammed the wolf clinging to his back against the wall, at the same time digging his right elbow into a vulnerable belly. With the stunned creature wriggling to come to its paws, Quentin slammed the blood-slick knife in its chest.

With the red haze of rage threatening to steal his intellect, Quentin pitched through the bedroom door, ready to take the next foe.

The sight that met his eyes brought a howl of pain and denial. Before the closed panic room door, Darcy lay beneath the bloody claws of a man-wolf, a gaping maw in her belly, her arms and hands nearly shredded. A gun lay on the ground beyond her feet. Darcy hadn't gone on her walk without backup after all.

Quentin's heart screamed and he crouched, ready to spring at the wolf to tear its head from its shoulders, when he saw the slightest movement of Darcy's lips.

Thank God! She still lived.

The monster's lips pulled back in an unholy grin and he held up a red, wriggling baby, its placental cord dangling from its round belly.

Quentin had only a moment to note Darcy's child was a boy with a thick cap of dark curls.

Then the creature placed the child in his mouth and completed his transformation to wolf, dropping on all fours to the floor.

The dark wolf approached him and brushed boldly past.

Quentin clenched his fists and let him pass, fighting the encroaching haze—Darcy lived. The baby was likely already infected by the bite Darcy had received, and if not, it soon would be from the saliva of the wolf using it as a hostage for safe passage out of The Compound. The baby was lost whether the beast ate it or not.

But Darcy wasn't—yet. And while she had breath, there was still a chance to save her.

He crossed the room and knelt beside her, taking her head into his lap, cupping her face between shaking palms.

Darcy's eyes fluttered open. "Quentin….the baby," she whispered, her voice thin, her breath labored. "Save the baby."

"I will, love," he lied and bent to end her life.

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

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

Leah Braemel

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Taige Crenshaw

Vivian Arend

Ashley Ladd

HelenKay Dimon

Lauren Dane

Sasha White

Shelley Munro

TJ Michaels

A Question…

NaNo Day 4:

Viking-2—2141 words

GWB-Me—729 words

Since NaNo started on Monday, I've had my head down, hammering away at the keyboard. I'm making great headway on the Viking book. Finally had a few lightbulb moments which helped me figure out what was missing in that baggy, saggy middle of the story. I'm halfway through my short story, which hopefully will be included in the Girls Who Bite anthology—oh, wait! I'm choosing the stories for that book. Guess I shouldn't sweat it.

Yesterday, I wrote all my pages then did some research on ancient Scythia for the other novella I have to start this weekend. Busy, busy me. Hope all you NaNo'ers are making great progress too. And for you readers, I love you! Thanks so much for making this an awesome year for me.

So, onto the question…

If, instead of actually writing out your name, you now had to "sign" your name with a simple drawing of something, what would you draw each time to represent who you are?

Guest Blogger: Eliza Gayle

NaNo Day 3:

Viking-2—2035 words

GWB-Me—591 Words

Shades of the Forbidden

by Eliza Gayle

"Subspace is my perfect paradise vacation from busy-mind… blessed be to the Dominant who can stamp my ticket there." ~ Unknown

I find that writing stories that might fall in the realm of the taboo to be an exciting trip into the darker side of life. Reading them is even more fun. From the light and kinky spanking stories to the gritty and emotional dramas that make us stay up half the night to find out what happens between the hero and the heroine in the end. BDSM romance and erotica comes in so many flavors it's impossible to define it in a simple box. I've seen more than once a book is poked at for "not" being a BDSM book. Probably what they really mean is that it's not their BDSM.

Whether I write dark or light I often find myself questioning whether I went deep enough into the psychological aspect of a scene, but sometimes that's not what it's about. In a lighter story the focus is on the kink and the characters willingness to explore their sexuality with their partner. Those can sure be fun. The emotional drama of an in depth D/s relationship is an entirely different animal.

Both have their place and their fans.

Generally my contemporary stories are character driven. I only go as far to get to know my characters a little before I sit down to write. I know who they are, what they want and where they need to be. The rest is a journey of discovery as the story unfolds. My latest release, Bottoms Up, is a little more on the lighter side with some interesting forays into domestic discipline in a relationship. Versus the next release, Midnight Playground, which surprised both me and my editor with it's intensity.

Of course after angsting for a few stories about the emotional complexities of D/s, I am sooo ready to write something different and I do the genre bounce. That's me right now. I'm participating in nano this month (even though my daily word count is generally higher than what is needed for nano) and I've switched gears and headed back into the realm of my paranormals. Witches to be specific. Although I've managed to find a way to work in a little, okay maybe a lot, of D/s there too. *g*

Snooping is risky business…sometimes it pays off in unexpected ways.

Jenn has been in love with her best friend since college and despite their years apart she is determined to at least find out if he has any interest in her. When the opportunity opens up in the form of a job interview in his hometown, she jumps on a plane with a plan to see what happens.

Riley walked away from Jenn after college to explore and understand the dark side of him that harbored needs he knew she was too young to understand. They kept in touch and after years of exploration into his kinks, he's decided the time for hiding the truth from the woman he loved has come to an end.

When Jenn finds a BDSM book and a flyer for a local sex club in his condo, she is both shocked and intrigued. Riley catches her red-handed snooping through his things and dares her to give him and his lifestyle a chance. Two days to explore her potential submissive side and see where it leads.

With no hesitation and barely a thought to how far he might go, she jumps at the chance to prove she's the woman for him, even if it's just for the weekend.

Read An Excerpt

My Website

Guest Blogger: Lex Valentine

NaNo Day 2:

Viking-2—1905 words

GWB-Me—518 Words

Unfairness

By Lex Valentine

Unfairness abounds in the world we live in. Despite writing romances where there is always a Happily Ever After (HEA), I sometimes let the unfairness and cruelties of the world seep into my work. In my current release, Sunstroked, one of my heroes was closeted for most of his life because his cousin, the pack Alpha, was homophobic. In my November and December releases, unfairness has a role in each story.

Rock My World, coming November 12 from Ellora's Cave, has a stalker in it who's filled the heroine with so much fear that she lies and pushes the hero away in order to ensure he's not a target too. Afterburner, in the Honorable Silence anthology due out in November from MLR Press, is about two Air Force pilots who fall in love and must contend with the military's Don't Ask Don't Tell policy. In December, there's Unbreak Me about a magic wielding warrior who was imprisoned unfairly, suffering rapes and torture, all because someone coveted the position her father held. Also coming in December is Christmas Wishes, another short story in my annual Christmas Cowboys series. The hero has it bad for the heroine but she's older than him, a widow with a broken heart whose husband died in Afghanistan. Someone with a past that tragic isn't the kind of woman you just hit on.

Another story I recently finished (whose release date I'm unsure of) is In the Light. This is a dark tale, a short story of some 6500 words, written for my friend author Patric Michael. It will be in his anthology Wishing on a Blue Star from Dreamspinner Press. In the Light features one of my signature characters, a werewolf named Weylyn Randall. The story is about bullying and doing the right thing and the sometimes high cost of both. It's also about everlasting friendship and love. But it's not a love story nor does it have full-blown sex in it.

For those of you who know me, you'll know that no sex is a bit of an aberration. To date, the only other story I've ever written without sex is Ain't Nuthin' But a Hellhound, a dark tale in the Weirdly anthology at Wild Child Publishing. But In the Light has overtones from conversations Patric and I had and it's with a sense of profound joy that I give it to him.

As unfair as life often is, my character Weylyn brings a sense of buoyancy and fun to everything I've ever put him in. He first debuted in a serial story where I wrote prior to being published. Then I wrote him into my Pink Chair Diaries trilogy (also before I was published.) Next, he showed up in Common Ground, Tales of the Darkworld Book 5. He pops up everywhere and he's great fun for readers. For a taste of Weylyn, you can go to my website and click on the freebies page. There are links to the PCD stories which are free to read. Common Ground isn't free but I hear that the Dreamspinner anthology may be a freebie.

I combat the unfairness in life the only way I know how…with laughter. Weylyn usually brings that so he's a great read when you're feeling down. I don't have a link yet to Patric's anthology, but below are links to the other works where you can read Weylyn. A few laughs won't make unfairness in the world go away, but it makes it easier to live with. And Weylyn is a lot of hot, sexy werewolf fun!

Here's a snippet from In the Light:

Sipping his ale, Grant shot Weylyn a wry look. "You're trying to get me laid?"

Blinking in mock innocence, Weylyn said, "But of course! What else would a friend do?"

"Fuck the only guy in the bar I'm interested in."

Grant made a face and Weylyn could barely contain a laugh. He loved bantering with Grant.

"You have to bring that up again? Geez, man. You are never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"No." Grant popped a few peanuts in his mouth. "You are the only guy I know who can get laid without even trying…without even wanting to! A guy tells me he's a power bottom and asks me if I'm interested. Before I can even reply 'Hell yeah!' you've got him topping you!"

"That only happened once," Weylyn protested. "I didn't know you'd already been talking to him when I met him in the men's room."

Weylyn felt the sting of guilt. It was true that he'd ended up with more than one guy whom Grant had had his eye on. Not that he'd meant to. Every time it had happened, he hadn't known Grant was interested in the guy. His friend tended to be really low key about his sexuality and wasn't a blatant prowler like Weylyn. Grant never broadcasted his sexual preferences but Weylyn knew that he gave it away fairly easily because his gaze never followed women, only men.

"I can't believe there are Fallen Angels you haven't fucked," Grant grumbled and finished his drink. The bartender brought him another one instantly.

"Dude, I swear to you, I haven't been with that many." Weylyn tried to edge the peanuts closer to him as he watched his friend.

Grant eyed him in mock disbelief. "Still don't believe you, but I'll find out later. I'm not yet in the mood to go chatting up the men in here only to find they're one in a long list of your conquests."

"You make me sound like some kind of sexual predator."

"You are a predator. In everything you do. It's inherent in your nature as a shifter," Grant conceded. "Believe me, I understand that. Add that to the whole rock star thing you have going and you get laid without even trying."

Whew! Weylyn can certainly be a handful! If you'd like to read more Weylyn you can and some of it is free! You'll find Weylyn here:

The Were & The Chair

I'd Fuck You

If you're interested in reading more In the Light, I will post on my blog Sunlight Sucks and on my official website when and where you can get Wishing on a Blue Star (which contains work by several well-known M/M romance authors), just as soon as I have the information.

Many thanks to Delilah for letting me and Weylyn take over her blog today!

Lex Valentine

Lexvalentine.com ~ sunlightsucks.com ~ fivedarkrealms.com