All posts by Delilah Devlin

Until recently, award-winning romance author Delilah Devlin lived in South Texas at the intersection of two dry creeks, surrounded by sexy cowboys in Wranglers. These days, she’s missing the wide-open skies and starry nights but loving her dark forest in Central Arkansas, with its eccentric characters and isolation—the better to feed her hungry muse!

Just Two Things…

It’s a give and take! I give you something, then you take a minute to do a little something for me…


First, I have something for you. A free story, that’s more than that. It’s kind of like one of those group projects in school, but way better cuz the smart girl’s doing exactly what you say.

We’re five chapters into this story now. DiDi’s walking into big trouble. You don’t want to miss what happens next!

Click on the cover and find chapter five of the next installment of Bad Moon Rising! You’ll also find chapters one through four as well as three other free stories!

Then you can do a little something for me. Because the free read made you hot and you’re feeling very, very grateful after one terrific orgasm. Four Sworn has been nominated for Best Erotic Romance (Non-Traditional Lifestyle) in 2010!

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

The Romance Reviews Voting Page

Simple Delights

I’m looking at a really rough work schedule today. Tons of pages to write. Already I’m wishing I could pamper myself—which got me thinking. (Always dangerous!)

It’s a pretty individual thing—our pampering preferences. And I’m a little out of practice pampering myself and could use some fresh ideas. So how about we share some tips today?

I’ll start it off…

Wear your special occasion underwear even though it’s Monday.

Now, it’s your turn!

Try a little True!

Thanks to everyone who’s read Ravished and let me know what you think. I’m keeping notes for the characters’ whose lives you’d like to peek inside in the next installments. Those of you who have read the first book know exactly where we’ll begin the next adventure! If you’re new to the Ravished, be sure to check out my blog for plenty of steamy excerpts. I promise you’ll be intrigued!

In the meantime, I do have another ebook release to tell you about…

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

Two men plus one woman equals three bodies on fire…

True Wyatt’s hands are going to be full enough keeping the herd alive through the dead of winter. The last thing he needs to hear is that his brother Lonny has rented out their isolated hunting cabin to a reclusive writer—especially a sassy, disaster-prone brunette. Who has the time to babysit a city girl until Spring?

With a deadline looming, erotica writer Honey Cahill is looking forward to six distraction-free weeks to finish her next book. However, between Lonny’s flirty sensuality and True’s hard-edged intensity, the Wyatt brothers set the stage of her imagination for a winter of wicked delights.

The fire that destroys the cabin, though, is as real as it gets. Forced to seek a bed under True and Lonny’s roof, the temptation to experiment—all in the name of research, of course—is overpowering. One night in their arms doesn’t feel like enough; it feels like more. Particularly with one cowboy who fires all her cylinders…

Warning: It’s a Devlin ménage—expect men with stamina and not an ounce of mercy to behave like sex gods, and the lucky woman to love every minute of it. A little domination goes a long, long way…

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

True Wyatt prided himself on control—control over the multitude of responsibilities that came with riding herd over a successful ranch; control over his brother, who thought life should be enjoyed rather than conquered; and control over the desires he’d kept in rein since the demise of his marriage. And yet, the sight that greeted him this cold winter day told him he’d only been fooling himself.

From his perch high atop the ridge overlooking the lonely cabin, True Wyatt watched the shapely brunette as she made another trip to her car to pull boxes and suitcases from her backseat, one after the other. Grumpily, he wondered how she’d managed to stuff so much inside a Corolla. The trunk had held a similar assortment of printer-paper-sized boxes, which she’d manhandled into the house, her face growing rosy with exertion.

Despite the biting wind, she’d dispensed with her down coat and wore only a sweater with a crew neck, the sleeves pushed off her wrists. The dark blue knit hugged her upper torso, defining a lovely bosom and narrow waist. Every time she bent to pull out another box her designer jeans hugged her small rounded bottom, and his loins tightened.

Which annoyed the hell out of him. Fact was, he wished he could turn his horse away and pretend he hadn’t noticed trouble had arrived on his mountain. He knew exactly who to blame. His anger smoldered like hot coals ready to erupt into a full blaze. The clop of hooves approaching behind him carried just the fuel to add to the fire.

“Did you know?” True barked without glancing back.

“Know what?” his brother asked, humor underlying his slow drawl as he pulled up alongside him.

“That our tenant is a woman.”

“Sure did. I’m surprised that you’re surprised since I gave you a copy of her book. Picture’s right there on the back cover.”

The book in question sat on the credenza in True’s office. Exactly where his brother had left it two days ago. The fact he hadn’t bothered turning it over made True’s cheeks heat. Dammit.

Lonny had asked him just last night if he’d read the story. The wicked gleam in his eyes when he’d said it should have clued True in that his little brother was enjoying a joke at his expense.

“You do know this is gonna complicate things. If we weren’t busy enough after letting go of the seasonal hands, now we have to babysit—”

“She’s not looking for anyone to babysit her, True. Said she wants the privacy to finish up a book.”

True speared him with a glare. “We can’t leave her alone. What the hell does she know about surviving a winter in high country?”

“Probably not any more than the male author you thought you were gettin’.”

True gritted his teeth as Lonny’s mouth stretched into a gleeful smile.

“Tell the truth. You planned on having to check up on Mr. H.A. Cahill. You don’t trust tenderfoots.”

“But I wouldn’t be as worried. If a man’s stupid enough to get himself into trouble out here, it’s a damn shame, but not something I’d lose sleep over. But she’s…” He waved his hand toward the woman hopping down the steps for another load.

Her breasts bounced enticingly, distracting him from what had to be said.

At Lonny’s chuckle, he swung back with a narrowed gaze. “It’s not safe. Does she know she could be shut in for a month? That bears and wolves pretty much think a cabin is a drive-through?”

“The bears are hibernating. She’ll be gone before they stir. And you know wolves are shy of humans.”

“Does she know how to shoot a gun? Dammit, does she even own one?”

Lonny shrugged. “I asked if she needed me to leave one. She gave me a funny look.”

True cursed. “You show her how to light that cantankerous stove?”

“Showed her twice.”

The woman bent, reaching deep to the back floorboard of her car. Her sweater rode up, exposing a set of deep dimples right above her sweetly curved ass.

“Electricity’s bound to go out,” True muttered.

“There’s plenty of gas in the shed for the generator. ’Sides, she said candlelight gets her in the mood.”

True’s gaze swiveled back.

Lonny raised the hand not holding his reins. “For writing her stories. Although gotta wonder myself if she wasn’t talking about more. Her book was damn hot.”

“You thinking to give her inspiration?” True growled, his voice rising.

“Well, she did invite me down for a meal…” At True’s deepening scowl, he flashed a grin. “Out of gratitude. Said when Leroy’s hunting cabin went up in that brushfire her plans for a retreat were all shot to hell. She’s forever in my debt.” He waggled his eyebrows at the last statement.

True looked away, hoping to keep from saying something really nasty, because for whatever reason, the thought of his brother with the curvy woman below made him feel even meaner.

When he glanced back down the hill, his gut clenched. H.A. Cahill had stacked two boxes and was walking slowly toward the porch. The height of her burden was taller than the top of her head.

“Dammit,” he cussed and nudged his horse forward. She was gonna break her neck—and on his property. Sooner he helped her get inside, the sooner he could move on to more important things, like moving the last of the cattle to the box canyon where they’d stay to weather the worst of the winter.

As his horse picked its way down the slope, he kept sending darting glares her way, willing her silently to stay put. The brief thaw they’d experienced the past week had ended. Snow clung to patches of shaded earth, but had melted away everywhere else, leaving mud and slicks of slush. However, today’s cold snap was re-freezing the ground, the roads—the damn steps.

She slowed as she approached the steps, kicking out one booted toe to find them. Then tentatively, she stepped up. His worst fear was realized when she took another step and her foot slid out from under her. She toppled backward to the ground, giving a startled yelp as her boxes opened and the wind carried away pages of paper.

He kicked his horse’s sides, hurrying him down, ignoring the pounding of his brother’s horse behind him.

Before his own palomino came to a full halt beside the woman struggling to sit, he was out of his saddle and glaring down.

Ready to tear into her for her carelessness, he opened his mouth—but a strange thing happened. One look into her cornflower blue eyes, and his breath hitched. The caustic complaint he was about to voice stuck in his throat.

“You must be the brother,” she said breathlessly, her voice impossibly chipper for a woman who looked as though she’d gotten the wind knocked right out of her. “True, right? Your parents…got really creative with…your names,” she gasped. “I like that. Don’t be surprised…if they turn up in a book somewhere.” And then she grinned.

True’s dick hardened in a one blazing instant, and he knew with a fatalistic certainty just what kind books she wrote.

Don’t miss this contest!

I have a new release coming January 4th. One I’m very excited about. The contest has some great prizes, but be sure to click on “Read” too. You can pre-order the book now! If you like battle-hardened warriors who know how to wield a sword *wink*, dragons, and space adventures, this might be the book for you!

Take a bite of First Knight

On April 28th my next vampire book is out. And the next My Immortal Knight. But wait! What’s up with that cover? I mean he’s nice, better than nice, but aren’t all the MIKs contemporary? I hinted at a longer history in Silent Knight, so decided now was the time to introduce a prequel to the current series. Hope you enjoy the excerpt. If you’d like to sample a sexier excerpt, I’m posting one of those on my blog today too!

While hiding her true identity, Maddie must seduce the mysterious Lord Garon to cement their marriage contract to assure she won’t be returned into her lecherous stepfather’s care.

Fresh from Crusade in Palestine, Lord Garon has a secret he must hide, a hunger that must be fed, and a dark and uncertain future. Having shed himself of a fiancée he never met, he’s home to lick his wounds. The only thing he wants is a warm-blooded meal—but the new housekeeper is strangely insistent on giving him much more. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Maddie shivered at the creaks and groans the portcullis made as it slowly rose. The rain-laden wind carried the noises and filled the silences in between with a howling that sounded like the hounds from hell had arrived at the castle gate. 

Shouts outside the curtain wall had alerted them only minutes before of Lord Garon d’Albermarle’s arrival. With only a bliaut over her sleeping shift, Maddie stood on the first step of the keep, holding a tray with a goblet of wine, ready to offer a proper greeting to her overlord. 

“Are you sure this is the way you wish to go about this, M-Maddie?” Egbert asked, fidgeting at her side. 

She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth and nodded. 

“It be on your head then,” he said, his always-mournful tone as dire as one of Father Ansel’s Sunday sermons. She sent thanks above that the cranky priest was away or her deception wouldn’t last past the introductions. 

The clatter of dozens of hooves on the cobbled bridge beyond the gate filled the castle yard with thunder. From the encroaching darkness, the sounds were as ominous as the dark shapes looming on the gatehouse walls. The torches she’d ordered lit sputtered and flared, distorting and elongating shapes so the men riding through the entrance appeared as tall as giants. 

Already tired and on edge because she hadn’t slept since a messenger had arrived, warning the castle of his lordship’s arrival days before, Maddie’s fevered imagination painted them darker and larger still. 

“Be they devils?” Egbert asked, his narrow shoulders shaking. “No one travels on a night with nary a speck of light in the sky.” 

“Hush!” The storm whipping at her clothing and the fatigue from months of worry over this very moment combined to make her hands shake and blackened an already foul mood. 

The horsemen entered the bailey and a large figure separated from the contingent who approached the keep. As he drew closer, her fears weren’t eased one whit. The warrior sat atop a huge black destrier, forcing her to raise her gaze quite high to seek his face. 

He wore a helm that left only his square jaw exposed. The darkness cast by the metal nose guard concealed his eyes. Only his mouth gave a hint of his mood—a thin, straight line with the corners crimped downward. 

Under his stare, Maddie’s knees trembled but her tray never rattled. She squared her shoulders and shot a glance about her at the castle folk. “Stephen!” she called to the stable master. “See to their horses.” 

In moments, boys scrambled to accept reins, and the creak of leather and the clank of iron filled the air. 

The stable master himself approached the dark warhorse at the foot of the steps but the mounted warrior’s gaze never left Maddie. 

She licked dry lips with an even drier tongue. “Lord Garon?” she asked, although there could be no question who led this contingent. All gazes remained on his intimidating figure. “Please come inside, milord. Your people will see to the comfort of your men.” 

His mouth twisted. “And who will see to mine?” 

Maddie’s heart leapt to the back of her throat. “I will, milord.” 

A long pause indicated he looked her up and down. “And who might you be, madam?” he asked, his voice a deep, hollow rumble. 

Maddie remembered to curtsy and then straightened, girding herself to speak the lie aloud. “Your housekeeper. I take care of things now.” The latter, at least, was the truth. 

Lord Garon grunted. Without a glance at the stable master, he tossed down his reins and dismounted. 

When he turned toward her, Maggie’s breath caught. Lord, he’s a tall man. I thought it was just the horse.  

Maddie lifted the ornate chalice from the tray to deliver her much-rehearsed welcome. 

Instead, his lordship’s lips pressed into a tighter line and he brushed past her. 

She was left gasping on the bottom step. “What a rude ogre!” she exclaimed, annoyed he hadn’t fallen in line with the first step of her plan. 

“Watch your tongue, madam,” an accompanying knight said tersely as he followed the lord up the steps. “He has exceptional hearing.” 

“M-Maddie?” Egbert said, nodding toward the door. 

She shoved the tray at his belly and grasped her skirts high to rush up the steps. 

The plan had seemed so simple. All she needed was to get him alone and addle his sight with a little wine or ale so he’d not care she wasn’t the comeliest creature in the keep. Then she would seduce him. 

And the sooner, the better. The longer she took losing her virginity, the greater the risk he would discover her identity. The truth was, she would rather copulate with the devil himself than be returned home. 

However, this business of copulation, which had seemed a simple, messy, perhaps even enjoyable act, according to the cook, now promised to be a daunting trial. 

The lord of the keep turned out to be a giant and as dour as a priest at confession. The thought of being naked with him and accepting his manstaff into her body frankly petrified her. 

She rushed through the massive doors, hoping her preparations would meet with his approval. Nothing else could be allowed to mar her well-thought-out plan. 

His lordship stood in the center of the hall, hands on hips. Unlike his men, he wore no chain mail, only a leather hauberk to protect his body. He’d removed his headgear, revealing hair as black as midnight and a face as hard as carved granite. 

He was everything she’d remembered and more—more frightening, more imposing—and more beautiful because of the differences. Thanks be to God, he hadn’t recognized her. 

His gaze narrowed on the hall and she looked around to see what might have displeased him already. 

Around him servants scurried, delivering warm food to the men-at-arms as boys eagerly divested them of their armor. If she hadn’t been observing him so closely, she might not have detected the change in his posture. He scarce seemed to notice the din of activity. His mouth lost a little firmness, his hands unclenched on his hips and his chest rose and fell deeply. 

In that instant, Maddie lost a measure of her fear. Here was a man savoring his first night home after a long absence. He had a heart and cared for something at least. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a complete troll when making her his wife. 

Want to be bad?

I’m running a contest today. Be sure to post here, then post on my blog and you will have two entries!

On March 24th, I have a new release. Something I had a lot of fun writing. Something that has one of the funniest scenes I’ve written to date. I hope the teaser I share with you today will have you marking your calendar! Enjoy!

Expect magic when one determined woman dons a legendary pair of red stilettos and bares body and heart to get her man’s attention…

Jolene’s a big, beautiful woman with an even bigger heart. But she’s become her police officer boyfriend’s favorite doormat and that’s so not working for her. It’s time for a little conversation, time to tell Mr. Happy Pants to “pee or get off the pot”.

Gabriel has seen what his profession does to marriages. He’s not willing to risk that kind of heartbreak. Besides, he likes what he has with Jolene. The woman is sex personified. So when Jolie tells him she won’t see him anymore if he’s not willing to commit, he’s shocked and angry.

With a girlfriend’s encouragement and the added confidence a certain pair of red stilettos gives her, Jolene arranges a special show at a strip club to prove to Gabe once and for all that she’s more woman than any man can handle, and if he doesn’t want the job, then she’ll find another lover who does.

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

Jolie’s apartment door swung open and Gabe’s gaze slid down her body in a slow, hungry crawl. She wore a silky robe in a bronzy orange, which hugged her curves like his hands were itching to do. However, her hand was still on the knob, and she hadn’t backed up to let him in.

He leaned against the doorframe. “Am I too late?”

Are you too late?” she said slowly.

Jolie’s tone was always like warm honey when she expected sex—soft and oozing down his spine—but right now, a sarcastic edge tightened her voice. And he didn’t like the militant gleam in her dark chocolate eyes. What had put her into a bad mood? Could she be mad at him? He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary.

“If this is a bad time…”

Her soft jaw tightened, but she took a step back and waved him inside.

He breathed a sigh of relief and stepped across the threshold, his hands going to the buttons at the front of his dark uniform shirt as soon as the door closed behind him. A soft huff of breath halted him, and he looked up to find a scowl sinking a line between her dark brows. “What?”

She slowly shook her head. For a fleeting moment, her eyes filled but she blinked away the moisture. “Nothing.”

“I’m sorry. Should I step out the door and come back in? Something’s bothering you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you think you need to step outside while I get over it?”

“Yeah…”

Her scowl deepened.

“What?”

Her shoulders slumped and she shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” She turned on her heel and headed to the bedroom.

For the second time in five minutes, he sighed his relief. He’d thought, for just a moment there, that she would ask him to leave. That had never happened.

But then, she’d been acting a little funny lately. Quiet and brooding. With another woman he might have thought it was just her time of month, but Jolie wasn’t moody. One of the many things he appreciated about her.

As he followed her down the hallway while she flicked off lights heading to the bedroom, he mulled it over and thought he might have found the answer. She’d finally decided dating a cop was too harrowing.

After his partner had gotten shot last summer, she’d been a gem, bringing food to the hospital for the men who waited in the halls, calling the wives, babysitting their kids while they took turns waiting with Lexie, Tyler’s girl. Now that Tyler was back at work and everything had returned to normal, she’d had time to think about what happened. She couldn’t handle it.

Gabe tamped down the searing disappointment. He’d miss her. He’d always known this day would come. Deep inside, he’d held part of himself back from her because he knew better than anyone that living with a cop was hard. Too stressful for most marriages to survive.

His own mother had stuck it out, soldiering on as friends were lost along the way, until she’d crumpled on the porch when the chief of police and chaplain climbed the steps to deliver the terrible news. From that moment, she’d never pulled herself away from the dark place she’d entered.

Jolie was smart. She’d gotten a taste and decided to protect herself from a grim future.

Still, he was here. Maybe for the last time. He’d make it special, let her know he held no grudges. He’d tell her to move on and not feel guilty that she wasn’t strong enough for the life. He’d be gentle. And if his chest felt a little tight, well, he’d get over it. This was how it had to end.

Come have Fun With Dick and Jayne!

To celebrate the release on Wednesday of Fun With Dick and Jayne, I’m running a countdown contest! The prize is a $25.00 gift certificate from Amazon.com. To enter, all you have to do is post a comment on this blog posting or on any posting on my own blog through Wednesday—multiple entries mean multiple chances to win!

Come on over and read some sexy excerpts—I promise, I’ll whet your appetite for more. Delilah’s Blog

Fun With Dick and Jayne

He didn’t know the nightly peepshow was just a naughty invitation…

Garrett knows what he’s doing can get him into trouble, but he can’t help himself. Every night, as he arrives home, the blonde across the alley gets busy with her boyfriend with the blinds open. He’s spent the past two weeks getting an eyeful and falling deep into lust.

But when Garrett sees a man in a black ski mask sneak into his sexy neighbor’s bedroom, he doesn’t know he’ll be the one captured.

Jayne has a nice life with a nice lover who sees to her every need, but she’s still drawn to the lonely man across the alley. She’s been sharing her deepest fantasies with him from afar, but is ready to up the stakes. When she talks Richard into enacting a dangerous scenario, everything works out as planned. Only Garrett’s not happy about being played. And he’s got reservations because she already has a lover and he’s not into threesomes. Guess she’ll just have to convince him otherwise.

The things writers do for art…

This past weekend was a blur. Saturday was the booksigning at Little Rock, and you can see pictures from that on my blog: Pics from the booksigning

Sunday, however, was much more interesting. My daughter and I went to visit with Bill and Lisa. They look like an average couple even if Bill looks like a cross between a Viking warrior and Charlie Manson (maybe because of the maniacal twinkle in his eye). Lisa could be any woman you meet on the street. Nothing about them sets them off as anything out of the ordinary until you walk into the house and smell the incense burning from the altar in their living room.

Bill’s an ordained minister in the Asatru religion, which is based on Norse mythology. And Lisa is an eclectic witch.

The conversation flowed from Norse creation myth with Audumbla (am I spelling that right?) licking the ice to uncover the first man to the existence of fairies. And what exactly is an eclectic witch? All those questions were answered in a very long conversation, where I sat with my notebook on my knees and listened. They likely thought I was the quietest person on the planet for other than questions I inserted for clarification, I just let them talk.

But that’s how I work. I like listening to how people talk about their interests and pick up their terms, their slang. For instance, Bill and Lisa have little patience with Wiccans whom they refer to as “white-light-fuzzy-bunny-tree-huggers” only because they feel Wiccans have gone too “good” in order to court a more PC image. Interesting.

And I doubt this will be the last time I see them. You see, in the course of the sprawling conversation, they mentioned their involvment in ghosthunting. And since they are forming a new hunter group here, I mentioned they probably needed someone to write up their findings…

I like to keep an open mind when I venture into religion or the occult. I only truly believe what I see, feel, smell, or hear for myself. I believe in ghosts because of two things I experienced directly for myself. I believe in clairvoyance, because my daughter has the uncanny gift of knowing when someone is about to die or be injured. I believe in karma because I’ve seen how it works.

The rest I respectfully study and hope “encounters” will open up a new avenue of belief for me. I have an extensive personal library of religious and mythological books. While I read and make my little field trips to explore, I use what I learn to enrich the stories I write.

Research is No Substitute

I’ve never traveled in a starship, never lived in a castle in 12th century England, and I’ve certainly never cast a spell that turned a bunch of crushed herbs into a murder of crows, but that hasn’t stopped me from writing about them. However, meticulous research can only take me so far. There’s nothing like walking in the dirt I’m going to write about to add that touch of realism to a story.

When I wanted to write that spell-casting novel, I set it in Memphis and immediately decided to take a road trip. Memphis is only three hours down the road from me, so not a terrible jog. I spent the weekend there soaking in the atmosphere of Beale Street and walking along the edge of the Mississippi. I interviewed a police officer, took pics of his uniform and squad car, hit a few bars and a voodoo shop. I got the feel for the setting of my novel, listened to the cadence of the voices around me, smelled the air and experienced the weather—just to add that little kernel of truth at the center of my fantasy.

When I wanted to write a story about a couple of corrections officers working in a demon-infested prison, I interviewed my daughter and son-in-law who were guards at the time, but that wasn’t quite enough to help me feel grounded in the story. I applied for a job at the prison, walked past the gates under the eye of an armed guard in a tower into the administration area where I watched porters buffing floors. I didn’t get to see the housing units, but I know how the place looked from the outside and some of the inside. I saw the prisoners’ and guards’ uniforms, could smell the disinfectant and wax, felt that chill trickle down my spine when those heavy gates closed behind me—again, it was enough to ground the story in reality.

When I wanted to write a story about a search and rescue worker who specialized in cave rescues, I did the research, knew what equipment was common, what techniques are used, but I needed more. I fell back on my own experience rappelling in the Army and in college, and I spent an afternoon with a fireman who talked about his most daring rescues. Then I went to some of the public caves in the Texas Hill Country to get those sensory details I needed.

I’ve traveled most of Europe and have photos and memories to draw upon. I’ve walked through numerous ruined fortresses and castles. I know their size, where they were built, what it looks like from the top of the battlements. I’ve been to the museums to see medieval clothing, armor, weaponry and art. And now I have my books to fill in the details of the things I don’t know—like sapping techniques and how to clean out the cesspit. When I write a medieval historical novel, I have some basis of truth to begin with and I can weave the rest of the story around it.

Some authors do quite well just hitting the books, but I like to get a “feel” for my setting and my characters’ occupations as much as I need to fill in the blanks of my knowledge with some Internet surfing. When I went to a roller derby match with friends last Saturday, no amount of movie-watching or online research could fill in the pictures that strobed through my mind. I know the size of the arena, who attends the matches, how the women dress, how they sound when they play and especially when they fall. I watched how their bodies moved, smelled them up close after they’d been at it a while. I could write that roller derby queen now. Just have to hit the internet to figure out the rules of the game.

I’m heading out on a cruise to the Caribbean with Sasha White in December and I expect to come back with fodder for many stories. I’d never attempt a cruise ship story without actually experiencing it. Some things I have to live first before I can write them.

If you’d like to see some of the places I’ve gone recently in search of truths central to my stories, check out my blog travelogue: Delilah’s Travelogue

Three New Offerings!

The past couple of months have raced by! Don’t summers always feel that way? Most of the time I’m hiding away in my “mole hole” office with the fan going so I can’t hear anything going on around me. When I need a break, I head to the pool. My tan is fabulous!  I’ve had three releases, one right after the other over the past few weeks, and I’d love for you to check them out. Every one is very different from the others—something for anybody’s taste—so long as you like it hot! If you’d like to read an excerpt, just click on the cover. Happy reading!

darknessburning pb c_327

Beware the place where darkness rules and bloodlust is the ultimate aphrodisiac…

An apocalyptic storm has transformed New Orleans into a city of lawless terror—and Mikaela Jones is standing in the center of the nightmare. A beautiful, courageous journalist with a mysterious past, she sees monsters prowling all around her. But the gravest peril of all awaits Mikaela when she is taken captive by a mesmerizing male who is not mortal—a breathtaking creature who arouses the fire in her blood, making her burn for the exquisite erotic ecstasy of total surrender.

For seven centuries Alex Broussard has been waiting for the chance to free himself from the threat of the matriarchal undead society that seeks his destruction. And now, finally, that time is at hand—until the opportunity is ruined by the stunning, innocent, human interloper Alex is compelled to rescue from certain doom. Now they are joined, for good or ill, as they give in to the burning need that neither can resist—risking everything to experience the ultimate sensual release as the darkness rises all around them.

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

tempted by a cowboy_327

Tough and rough, tall and dark, these are men a woman never forgets. Experience pleasure like no other in the arms of a cowboy…

Mustang Man
Acclaimed horse trainer Miguel Perez is used to the unexpected from his work with wild mustangs. But nothing prepares him for the bolt of desire he feels when he meets Dawn Glass, as he’s eager to work his sexual healing on her in every possible way.

Long Hard Ride
Rodeo rider Michael White House is grateful when Diana Grant stops to pick him up in the middle of a rainstorm. But with one touch his gratitude quickly turns to lust and an uncontrollable desire to lay her down and ride her hard all night long.

Hot Blooded
Rancher Adam Youngblood is always happy to help a damsel in distress. But before he’ll pull the sweetly curvaceous and fiercely independent Cass McIntyre to safety, he demands promises of unconditional sexual surrender.

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

Stones Embrace_327

Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a genetic double whammy—a strange deformity and a shameful power inherited from the father she will never know. The power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch.

Exploring the garden of the mansion she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its broad chest. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all.

They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…