Category Archives: Delilah Devlin

Sometimes, you just want to smile…

I didn’t start out writing sexy books. In fact, I didn’t start our writing alone. I partnered with my sister through five books until we gained confidence and stepped out on our own. However, the four books we left languishing continued to nag at us. We knew there would be a right time to bring them out from under the bed and polish them into blindingly shiny shape.

Luckily, readers are finding the first story and loving it.

“Wildly funny – Surprisingly Sweet!” “A Great Romantic Comedy” “…You’re laughing ’til almost crying…”

But don’t take my word for it. Click on the cover and read what else they had to say.

See what happens when a secret billionaire and an aspiring actress get a little wild in Texas.


A man with a soft spot for women…

Closet Texas millionaire, Tanner Peschke has three months to prove he can make a profit at the family used car dealership or he will lose his job, disappoint his father and break his promise to his dying mother. The root of his problem is women. He can’t resist them–any of them. All it takes is the scent of delicate perfume or a misty-eyed gaze from an elderly woman with a sob story, and he becomes silly putty in the hands of his feminine customers. Until, with a stroke of luck and a buck of a mechanical bull, he hires Janine Davis to star with him in the dealership’s live TV ads.

A woman who won’t let a handsome cowboy get in the way of her dream…

Determined to make a name for herself, Janine needs to pay the bills between acting jobs. The offer to do a series of commercials for Peschke Motors is a chance to get her face “out there”. Recognizing a player when she sees one, Janine agrees to co-star with her handsome employer fully intending to keep their relationship strictly professional. First break she gets, she’s heading to Hollywood.

Their jungle-themed commercials take a crazy twist, and Tanner finds himself falling…from a sales banner while chasing a monkey. But more importantly, he’s falling for Janine. She’s just the one woman to tame this cowboy’s wild heart. Convincing her to stay with him might be harder than catching a mischievous monkey.

Lusting for Cowboys?

Click on the cover to find the buy links. The book’s brand new and filled with sexy stories by some of the best Western romance authors in the biz! ~DD

There’s a reason Western romance novels never go out of fashion. The cowboy is an iconic figure that embodies the dichotomy of the fiercely independent, earthy alpha male and the male as a nurturer. Given a picture of a man on a horse, wearing Wranglers, chaps, and with a broad-rimmed hat , women melt. Cowboys take care of their women, in every possible way. Wild and wayward women are gentled by the scent of horse, cow, and crisp, clean sweat; the sight of sun-kissed skin; the feel of work-hardened thighs and arms; and the sound of a deep-voiced, Texas drawl. COWBOY LUST satisfies readers who long to be rode hard and put away wet. Risky and risque, these classic stories are set in romantic settings from Montana, Texas, California, Mexico, and the Outback of Australia. Master of the wild west love story, Devlin’s strong and memorable characters range from hunks on horseback to a feisty female gunslinger. COWBOY LUST corralls within its pages a rodeo star, a cop on horseback, and lots of studs in spurs so hot you’ll be ready to take a vacation on a dude ranch!

Read a snippet from my own story, “Runaway Bride”…

Jackson Lowry cussed softly when he spotted the blue lights spinning at the roadblock just ahead. Too late to turn back now. He’d only draw more attention.

Squaring his jaw, he rolled down his window and forced a polite smile as he peered into the darkness at the sheriff’s deputy checking IDs with a flashlight.

As soon as the deputy waved the car in front of him to move along and turned to watch the black pickup roll forward, Jackson’s tension eased a fraction.

Maynard Colby’s expression turned from crisply professional to worried in a second a soon as he recognized him. “Dammit, Jackson, where have you been?”

“Around. Why?”

A soft moan sounded beside him, and Jackson reached surreptitiously beside him to tap the tarp covering his precious load.

“You didn’t hear?” At Jackson’s vague expression, Maynard stepped onto the truck rail and leaned toward Jackson. “It’s Sammie Jo. Her car was found in Shooter’s parking lot, the door wide open. No one’s seen her. Looks like she’s been snatched.”

Jackson cleared his throat. “How serious is this gettin’?”

“It’s only been a couple of hours, but Sammi Jo’s daddy is buckin’ to get the sheriff to call in the FBI, the CIA, ATF—and whatever other agency his money can buy to find her. I tried callin’ you, but your phone kept goin’ to voice mail. After the way things went down at the weddin’ last Sunday, I don’t blame you a bit for layin’ low, but I thought you’d wanna know.”

Another sound, this time a snort, sounded beside him.

Maynard’s gaze cut to the dirty tarp folded over a moving bundle on the floor of the cab. A ruddy eyebrow shot up.

“What’s goin’ on, Jackson?”

Jackson rolled his eyes, then pulled up the corner of the tarp to reveal a bound and gagged Sammie Jo whose eyes glittered furiously back at both men.

Maynard barked a laugh, then tightened his lips. “This time you’ve gone and done it, boy. This is seriously fucked up.“ He laughed again, then tipped his hat to Sammi Jo. “No disrespect meant, missy.”

Jackson cleared his throat. “Don’t s’pose you can forget about this?”

Maynard’s gaze shot to Sammie Jo again, raked her once as though ensuring she didn’t look to be in any real danger, then tipped back his cowboy hat. “Tell ya what. I’ll put a bug in the sheriff’s ear, but she better come walkin’ through the po-lice house doors come Monday mornin’.”

“Not a word to her daddy?”

One corner of Maynard’s mouth crooked up. “Man’s already caused enough problems. Deserves to cool his heels a couple o’ days. Don’t do nothin’ I’ll have to arrest you for.”

With a nod, Jackson rolled up the window and pulled past the barricade. In his side mirror, he watched as Maynard crossed to the other deputy’s car and both men bent over laughing.

“See that, Sammi Jo?” he murmured, not expecting an answer because he’d made double-damn sure he’d tied some serious knots and gagged her pretty mouth. “I’m not the only one who thinks you need a good paddlin’.”

A Cornucopia of Naughty

I like titles.

Sometimes, I’m lucky enough to hit upon a title that spins the whole story. Five Ways ‘Til Sunday and its sequel, Fournicopia, are two prime examples.

Not that I didn’t know before I started that the stories would revolve around a group of guys, best friends, who happened to Memphis cops. But really, that’s all I had when I started. That, and an idea of a countdown, a smorgasbord of wicked delights, where each man met his match, plucked by love one at a time.

In Five Ways, I had the title, then happened to glance at my personal “vision board” where my bucket list is pinned. Mine includes all the places I want to see, the family experiences I want to share before I die. But what about sexual experiences? Could my heroine have her own naughty little bucket list? From there, the story wrote itself.

Fournicopia came from me doodling titles on a piece of paper. What could I use that had  the word “four” in it. Well, none that satisfied me. Then a slip of the tongue as I was playing with words, gave me the idea. Fournicopia—a morphing of “cornucopia” (a horn of plenty—now there’s a visual!) and “fornication”…

I never said I was into subtle.

Forget the sugar. Send her the spice.

Delta Heat, Book 2

Gus Taggert knows a setup when he sees one. The doughnut shop his police officer buddies have sent him to, Cornucopia, is too frilly. Too pink. Then the woman behind the counter serves up a mini-lesson in submission that leaves him ready and willing to obey her order to see her tonight at La Forge BDSM club.

The large, burly cop is exactly the kind of alpha guy that newly minted Domme Aislinn Darby has been dying to tie up and spank. Yet after she puts him through his paces, she finds herself eager to let him take control—something she’s never before enjoyed with a man.

Determined to find out once and for all if she has what it takes to control a scene, she orders him up for one more go. Only this time, she intends to ensure he remembers who’s in charge. She’s even willing to offer a little bribe: accept her dictates, and his reward is her—any way he wants her.

Except when it’s time for payback, it comes with several twists she never saw coming.

Warning: When a male sub decides to turn the tables on his pretty Domme, he calls for backup from his best friends. Contains scenes with m/m/f, m/f/m, f/f, spanking, restraints, and an orgy of pleasure no woman can resist. 

 

Gus Taggert knew it was a cliché. A cop in a doughnut shop. The officers waiting for him to arrive for the sergeant’s morning meeting didn’t like making the run because of the inevitable roll of the eyes or smartass grin they’d get standing in line.

However, he didn’t mind being the “doughnut guy”. The plus for being the brunt of any jokes was that he ate for free. That was okay with him. He took any pointed looks or lame jokes in stride. He was an affable guy. Hard to rile.

He’d learned long ago to stifle his anger and look for the good in people, even when they messed up. Being oversized and strong, he’d always had to be more careful throwing his weight around. People could get hurt, and that wasn’t why he’d been drawn to law enforcement. He wasn’t a bully in a uniform.

Gus liked being a cop. Liked what it stood for. Loved the dark navy uniform and the camaraderie of his brother cops. He didn’t mind that his closest buds were all moving on to bigger and better things. He liked being a beat cop. Liked patrolling the neighborhood he lived in and getting to know the people he protected.

His father had been a small-town cop, and his father before him had been the sheriff of their little Arkansas berg. But then his mom had moved to Memphis—not because she’d wanted to, but because when his mom and dad divorced, she’d wanted to start fresh where everyone didn’t know her business and didn’t whisper to her ex about who she was seeing next.

Gus had missed his old school and friends, but had a natural gift for making new ones. That he was big and brawny, quick on his feet despite his size, had made him a natural for the football team.

And that’s where he’d met Jackson Teague and Craig Eason, who surprisingly enough wanted to be cops, too, when they graduated.

They’d all gone to college together, applied for the police academy and been accepted. That’s where they’d met the remaining members of their current posse, Beau McIntyre and Mondo Acevedo.

So, Gus was never lonely. He had his peeps, a job he loved, a city that kept him on his toes. And today, he was on his way to explore a new doughnut shop.

Mondo, although now in vice and no longer attending the station-house morning meetings, had given him a roll of bills the night before. “Treat the guys to doughnuts. On me.”

Gus had glanced at the roll. “This is too much.”

“Not for the place I want you to go.”

He should have known from the gleam in Mondo’s dark brown eyes that something was up, but Gus liked to think the best of people. Maybe Mondo really did just want to treat the guys to something special.

Well, it was special all right. Not like any doughnut shop Gus had ever seen before. He stood on the street in front of the small store front, eyeing the painted glass window with its pink awning, and felt the first rumbles of misgiving.

Cornucopia. He’d had to Google it the night before to get the address and see what the name meant. A horn of plenty. A familiar Thanksgiving ornament. But there weren’t ears of corn or squashes spilling from the dark pink horn painted on the glass. Doughnuts looking like Christmas presents, painted with ribbons and sparkling with stars, spilled from the mouth of the horn.

All the pink and frothy cuteness made him itch. However, he’d been given a wad of cash and a mission to buy a couple dozen doughnuts from this specific shop. For once, his face burned at the idea.

Hitching up his utility belt, he blew out a deep breath that billowed his cheeks, and pushed the glass door. A bell at the top tinkled.

Inside, the shop was pretty much what he’d expected—pale purple tiled flooring, white-painted iron bistro tables, boxes decorated in frou-frou paper and ribbons stacked at one end of the sparkling clean glass-front counter.

Thankfully, the shop was empty. Maybe he could back out, say it’d been closed when he came by, and he could hit a Dunkin’ Donuts on the way to the station house.

As soon as he’d made up his mind to leave, he heard a stirring from the back, and rather than be caught with one foot still on the sidewalk outside like he was scared to come in, he stepped through the door and held the bell so it didn’t chime again.

“Have a thing for bells?” came a husky feminine voice.

His gaze darted back to the counter, his cheeks filling with heat. A woman stood there, every bit as pretty and dainty as her little shop, with dark red hair, pale-as-dinner-china white cheeks and large brown eyes. The kind of woman he avoided like the plague because he always felt like a lumbering bear beside them.

What had she asked? Oh, yeah, the bells. He didn’t have a thing for them, he’d only wanted to be quiet and not charge into the place like a bull in a china shop. “No, ma’am.”

“That’s a nice start,” she said, her voice dropping again into a sexy, shivering whisper.

Gus’s cheeks burned hotter, because he knew she’d just made a joke and he didn’t understand it. Further, meeting her amused gaze proved surprisingly difficult. He had the urge to duck his head. To wait for permission to come closer.

Her amusement faded. “Come in, officer,” she said with brisk efficiency. “Can I help you with something?”

He cleared his throat, scuffed his boots on the doormat, like that was why he’d paused coming in, and stepped deeper inside the shop. “I’m just here to buy some doughnuts.”

“I don’t sell just doughnuts.” Her voice sharpened.

Had he insulted her somehow? He came closer to the counter. “They’re pretty doughnuts.”

“I’m a trained pastry chef. These are gourmet doughnuts.”

Like he’d said, they were pretty, but he didn’t get what it was she expected him to say. He thrust his hand into his pocket and took out the roll of bills Mondo had given him. “Mondo said you’d fix me up.”

“Mondo…” Her eyes sparkled for a moment, then narrowed. “Show me which you’re interested in.”

He reached out to point at one confection sitting on a tray atop the glass counter. The doughnut looked more like a pretty cupcake and was covered in glaze with star-shaped silver beads glinting on the top. “Some of these?”

Her hand shot out and slapped the top of his. Not hard, but the loud crack it made startled him. “Ma’am?” he asked, startled she’d dared smack an officer of the law.

Enter a Dark World…

Check the comments for the name of the winner! ~DD

* * *

Do you like a dash of scary with the your paranormal. How about heaping tablespoon of kink? Then here’s a series for you. Femme Noir. Even if you don’t think you’d like a strictly f/f book, these will surprise you, tempt you. And the stories are just too damn intriguing for you not to want more.

Post a comment, and you’ll be entered in a drawing for a free download of the first book in this series, Bitten in the Big Easy. I’ll post the winner here on Friday!

Here’s a snippet from the just released, Charmed in the Big Easy

From “The Mambo’s Door”, part 2 of Charmed:

Ingrid Kassel is a fledgling witch, uncertain and not in complete control of her powers, especially after drinking a double-shot of vampire blood. With the same instructions as MeLeah—retrieve an object buried with a daughter of the Voodoo Queen—she angers the spirit guarding the tomb and finds herself entering a shadowy limbo, where she meets beautiful Marie, living in fear of a demon who also desires the black magic candle infused with the powerful mambo’s blood. In desperation, Marie tricks Ingrid, capturing her and seducing her to charge the candle for her own bid for freedom.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Marie sat on the rickety wooden porch that stretched the length of the cabin on stilts, watching the path atop the narrow bern as she did most days. The bayou was quiet, something that calmed her mind and heart after a night of terrors. She wished she could sleep, to dream of another time, another place. To relive the past and pretend she still had time to change her destiny.

But those who lived in this realm never slept. And daydreams took on lives of their own. So she watched, her eyes unblinking, gazing down the narrow path leading deeper into the dark waters.

For a moment she thought maybe she had drifted into a dream, because the figure striding boldly down the path wasn’t familiar, didn’t belong. It wasn’t Baron Samedi with his top hat perched jauntily on his head, ready to deliver another warning with a smile and his dead eyes.

No, it was a woman, a pretty one, dressed like a man, wearing dark trousers and a shirt that hugged her small breasts. A hat covered her hair, but blonde strands hung beside her face—her very red, sweaty face.

The woman strode toward her porch, not stopping until she stood at the base of her steps. “You Marie?” she asked, tilting back her head.

Marie sat very still, clutching the arms of her rocking chair. A new voice. A new face. A pretty woman. Was this one of the baron’s many tests? She unglued her tongue from where it was stuck to the top of her dry mouth. “Oui. I am. Who asks?”

The woman’s crystal-blue eyes sparkled with life. Her furrowed brows bespoke impatience. “Ingrid Kassel,” she said, her voice brisk. “You have something I need.”

“As do you, chérie,” Marie said, a smile tugging at her mouth. Something she hadn’t done in a long time, but the look of irritation on the woman’s face told her this wasn’t some dead-eyed phantom sent by the loa of this limbo-land.

Ingrid, Marie repeated silently. Not a pretty name. It was as rigid as the woman’s militant posture. Still, the blonde was real, warm, breathing—and so attractive that long-dormant desires stirred inside Marie.

Who was she? What was she doing here? The woman’s pale face and wheat-colored hair betrayed Nordic origins. Why had she not been consigned to their realm, to frigid Hel? Had she somehow angered the baron on her journey to death? Or had she committed some great crime against him? Best to be careful.

“What do you seek?”

“A talisman. A candle your mother gave you.”

Marie startled. “Well, you can’t have it. The candle’s powerful magick. It’s best it stays with me.” The candle was her only weapon, her only hope. This woman would have to pry it from her cold, dead fingers.

Oh yes—she was already dead.

Marie’s interest in the woman was piqued. Her ennui lifted. She rarely had visitors. And to have someone asking about the candle… She wondered again if the baron was trying to get her prize. If so, he was destined to be disappointed. Again.

She grinned at pretty Ingrid’s reddening face.

“I’ve come a long way to find you.”

“Then you must be tired,” Marie drawled. “Why not rest on my porch?”

Ingrid blew an exasperated breath. “Marie Laveau. That’s you, right? The second one?”

What did the girl know? Did she know that “little Marie” had borrowed her mother’s fame, even impersonated her to increase her reputation and the heft of her purse? All without any true calling. Not like her mother had possessed.

“I’m the daughter,” she said with a nod.

The woman climbed three steps. “You performed good works, for the benefit of the people of New Orleans. You’d be doing that again—if you gave me the candle.”

Oh, Marie had performed all right. She’d given grand displays before thousands, using magicians’ tricks to fool the masses. She’d made impotent love potions, performed exorcisms on the mad. For money.

“What great calamity has sent you to this realm?”

“A vampire, Elizabeth Bathory, the Blood Countess herself, is in New Orleans. And she’s using witches, turning them into her minions to increase her powers. We think she intends a bloodbath. To turn the city into her personal hunting ground.”

“I’ve never heard of her. And she’s only a vampire, not a god. She has weaknesses the livin’ can exploit.”

“She’s using magick. There’s no telling what she can do now. We must stop her.”

“We?” Marie said, raising a brow.

“My coven sisters and myself.”

“You seem to be forgettin’ somethin’, gal.”

Ingrid’s sudden exhale billowed her cheeks. “What’s that? Do you need tribute, too?”

Marie swept aside her question. “You’re dead. How can you hope to deliver any talisman to your sisters when you’re trapped here?”

“But I’m not dead. I entreated Ma’man Brigit to open your tomb so I could find the candle. This is where she led me.”

Marie held still while Ingrid’s words churned inside her mind. “You’re livin’? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“I swear it’s true.” Ingrid climbed another step and held out her hand. “You can touch me if you don’t believe it.”

Marie ignored the pale hand. “You can touch me, too. It tells me nothin’.”

Ingrid dropped her hand and rubbed it against the side of her trousers. “You have powers. Use them to discern whether I’m telling you the truth.”

It was on the tip of Marie’s tongue to tell her she didn’t possess any powers or supernatural talents. She wasn’t her mother.

However, the woman standing in front of her did. Perhaps this was her chance to charge the candle and use it for her own purpose.

“You’re a rude woman,” Marie said, hardening her face. “You demand somethin’ from me, somethin’ precious, and yet you offer me nothin’ in return.”

“I don’t have anything to give you.” Ingrid’s mouth clamped shut, then opened again with a quick, inward breath. “Oh, except a flashlight that doesn’t work,” she said, drawing something out of her back pocket.

Marie had no idea what a flashlight was. She gave a dismissive wave toward the cylindrical item the pale woman clutched. “I been alone in this small house for a long time. I have few guests.” Unless you counted the undead things that surrounded her tiny cabin in the darkness. “I can make you tea. You can rest.” She let her gaze slip down the lithe body of the young woman. “Perhaps we can negotiate a price.”

Ingrid’s eyebrows shot skyward. “I don’t have time for this.”

Marie snorted. “Time has no meanin’ here. You have all the time you need.”

The blonde’s head shook. “I don’t understand.”

Marie glanced across the clearing toward the darkening bayou. “Darkness comes. When the light fades, you must be inside this house or you’ll die of a certainty.”

Ingrid darted a nervous glance behind her. “What happens when it gets dark?”

“Do you know where you’ve come?” Marie asked softly, using the voice that had enticed thousands into believing she was magickal.

“Not really.”

“This be neither heaven nor hell.”

“Purgatory?”

“A place of atonement. A place where one learns lessons and where one is judged before movin’ on to her destination.”

Ingrid’s eyes softened in concern. “You’ve been here a long time.”

“There be no long or short time here. Did you not hear me, gal? Time here is measured by light and darkness, just as it is in the land of the livin’. But it has no meanin’. If I meet my maman in some far-off day, she won’t know I lived decades after her death. I died a much older woman than what you see now.”

The softness faded, replaced again with an impatient scowl. “I really don’t have time for this. If it’s going to be dark soon, I need that candle now.”

The sounds of insects—flies and crickets—began to rise. Rustling in the darkest parts of the forest changed to large crashes. Gentle, lapping waves became agitated splashes.

Ingrid looked behind her. “What was that?”

“Night has come. Come inside now!”

“The tomb I came through isn’t far.”

“You won’t make it. Come inside, gal.”

Night fell in an instant, like a curtain suddenly lowering. Marie shoved off her chair, waved a hand in front of her to find the woman, and gripped her arm to pull her up the stoop and through the doorway just as the first of the creatures screeched from the forest’s edge.

Next Lone Star story is “Two Wild”!

Next Tuesday, the latest installment of my Lone Star Lovers series releases with Samhain! It’s the sixth book, but I designed the series so that a reader only has to read sets of two for full enjoyment. So if you’re one of those people who hates getting into a series several books out, you only have to worry that the Logan boys appear in A Four-Gone Conclusion and Two Wild for Teacher.

 

It’s double the trouble when two ornery cowboys come courtin’, Texas-style…

Sam Logan’s hell-raising twin sons have a bad rep in Two Mule, Texas. All of it earned. When it becomes clear those two troublemakers won’t settle down without another nudge—make that a boot to their butts—Sam reissues his challenge. Find a wife.

There’s only one woman who’s ever held Mace and Jason Logan’s attention for more than one night. Molly Pritchet, their former teacher. She’s been too worried about a pesky morals clause to let them close, but they’re older now and ready to prove to her that some rules are meant to be broken.

Molly thought her path was clear: always a teacher, never a mother or a wife. Until she finds those two Logan “boys” in her backyard, all grown up and digging around in her business. More accurately, starting her koi pond for her without asking. Well, it’s about time someone taught the Logan twins some manners.

A little mud, a lot of yearnings she thought she’d suppressed, and Molly realizes she’s the one being schooled in the art of indulging in forbidden desires.

Warnings: Two hot-as-sin twins romance their former high school teacher. Things are bound to get down and dirty quick as two bad boys tag team to sweep one curvy, sexy woman off her feet.

Read an excerpt
Pre-order at Samhain
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Lone Heart is here!

When temptation catches fire, saddle up and hang on for the ride.

Lone Wyatt is a long way from his Colorado home. After his brother married the woman they both loved, he figured it’d be best if he was out of the way. He’d like to have his own one-and-only, but he’s in no rush. Until he saunters into a small Oklahoma town and spots Charli Kudrow. One wary glance from her haunted eyes, and he knows there’s hidden fire inside her just waiting to erupt. And he’s ready to tear through every objection she can think up.

Charli intends to slip out of Shooters unnoticed as soon as she’s done pinning a help wanted notice to the bulletin board. But there’s a cowboy at the bar with a killer smile who seems hell-bent on seducing her. And she feels something she hasn’t felt in five long years of widowhood—a spark of attraction. Thinking she’ll never see him again, she succumbs to temptation, only to discover that little “spark” is more like a raging wildfire.

One weekend is all he asks. One weekend to prove there’s more between them than just blazing hot sex…

Warning: Sometimes, love happens in an instant, but it takes a lot of sexin’ up to make one stubborn woman a believer.

* * *

Lone Wyatt picked up his saddle from the hot sidewalk and hoisted it over his shoulder. With a nod of thanks to the driver of the pickup he’d hitched a ride with since Tulsa, he glanced up and down the dusty excuse for a main street. Without any particular direction in mind, he stepped out, glancing inside shops with Closed signs suction-cupped to windows. It looked like the little Oklahoma town had rolled up the carpet. Everything was closed.

With his sorry luck, he’d be sleeping on a bench this night.

Not that he was particularly worried about his predicament. He had a roll of bills in his pocket. A small bottle of JD was tucked into the bedroll strung to his saddle. He’d mailed his suitcase to his home in Colorado, and a buddy had trucked his horse back to the ranch, so he was footloose and fancy-free. No more bulls to ride. No one looking for him to do a damn thing.

Yes-sirree. Lonny Wyatt might have quit the rodeo in his prime with his back still strong and his bones intact, but he had prospects.

Too bad they were all back in Colorado.

After flying in for his brother’s wedding two months ago, he’d given True full authority to manage the family ranch as he saw fit. Somehow, it had felt like the right thing to do. True would continue to send him his cut of the profits, but Lonny didn’t have to face another numbingly cold winter in the high mountain meadows.

Besides, True had hired permanent hands so he could spend more time with his pretty new wife, and Lonny knew True still had some issues to work through there. The fact Lonny had been there, sharing the warmth of Honey’s bed the first time True and Honey hooked up, still stuck in his brother’s craw.

Not that True had ever said a thing. In fact, he’d asked Lonny to come home. Left the door open if ever he wanted to return. However, Lonny wasn’t ready to settle down and be a rancher.

He’d done all right on the circuit this year. Rode a few nasty bulls into the dirt. But the thrill was gone. Buckle bunnies had lost their luster. Many of his old friends had retired and married.

Truth was, Lonny was at a loss to figure out what he wanted to do next. Watching True and Honey share their first kiss as husband and wife had caused a funny pang of envy to tighten his chest. They’d both looked so happy. His brother’s smile when he’d lifted his head and turned to face the guests had been radiant.

Not an expression Lonny had ever seen on his brother’s face before. But then, True had reason to be happy. Honey was a helluva woman—warm, giving—and completely in love with him.

And that was the real reason Lonny had left. He didn’t want to be an impediment. Didn’t want to remind them both he’d had the first kiss. That he’d tasted Honey Cahill and fallen just a little in love with her himself before he’d taken a step back and let his brother have her.

True needed her more.

Lonny took a deep breath and placed one booted foot in front of the other. Somewhere out there was his future. He just had to find it.

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Just the right strokes…

No more waiting! Strokes is live at Amazon! If you mosey on over there, please be sure to “like” and “tag” the book while you’re ordering you very own copy! Thanks! 🙂 ~DD

From National Bestselling Author, Delilah Devlin, comes a naughty collection of seven bedtime stories for a week’s worth of nighttime reading pleasure—a little “som-som” to inspire sexy dreams or a one-handed orgasm, or to be read to a partner and enjoyed together.

Witness one woman’s desperate attempt to seduce her busy husband in “Lily’s Last Stand”. In “Nip ‘n’ Tuck” follow a shy seamstress’s adventures with an online suitor that doesn’t go quite as planned. Dive into “Dreaming by the Sea” where a woman with a mysterious past is surprised by a lover who strides naked from the ocean to claim her. An adventurous Victorian nurse learns the pleasures of steam-driven technology in “Dr.Mullaley’s Cure”. A New York commuter shares lustful daydreams of with another subway passenger in “The Morning Ride”. A woman finds the limits of her inhibitions tested in a one-night stand in “All About Me”. In “The Obedient Wife”, find out what really happened between The Beauty and the Beast. Hint: It’s not your children’s fairytale!

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From “Lily’s Last Stand”: The F-bomb fell effortlessly from her mouth, leaving him feeling bemused. “Who are you?” “Can I tell you who I want to be?”

From “Nip ‘n’ Tuck”: She suppressed a grin. He was being a good sport about this. She’d been the one to design the scenario. Something she’d always fantasized about doing to a stranger, but had never had the courage to try. Not until “TallDarkBanker” teased her in a private chat room into revealing her innermost desires.

From “Dreaming by the Sea”: He leaned his forehead against mine. “A kiss, Despy. Let me give you a kiss. I promise all will be answered.” A kiss. How simple. How frightening. Everything would change. I knew it.

From “Dr. Mullaley’s Cure”: “I feel…nearly…oh, the agony…oh, doctor!” Mrs. Headley gave a choked little scream, her upper body arching on the table before settling again. Her flushed cheeks shone with sweat, but the smile she gave the doctor was so filled with gratitude I felt a stirring of something akin to pride for the doctor’s skill.

From “The Morning Ride”: She saw him, or at least from the knee on down. Shiny black loafers. Knife-edged creases on his charcoal trousers. Sweeping her gaze upward, but still not looking directly, she eyed his tall, lean body, embracing the quickening tattoo of her heart. When he took his seat along the opposite wall and two seats down, she let out the breath she’d held, the pinpricks of darkness that had narrowed her vision to a tunnel, fading back. All was right in her world again.

From “All About Me”: “Why don’t you go first?” He shook his head, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “Now, see? That’s not what I want. And you said I could have anything I wanted if I made you come.” I snorted. “How do know you I didn’t fake it?” A sexy grin stretched across his face. “Baby, you came so hard you peed on me.”

From “The Obedient Wife”: The door swung open, and every word she’d rehearsed flew from her mind, because a great hairy beast dressed in trousers and boots and nothing more filled up the door. “This be the girl?” the beast rumbled. The daughter shivered at the deep, warm sound, unsure whether it was pleasure or fear and also unsure which excited her more.

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Coming October 4th!

His suffering…

Though proud and strong, Eirik, heir to the Ulfhednars kingdom, found himself seduced and taken from his homeworld by a bounty-hunting vixen, who sold him into slavery. Purchased by a wealthy, Consortium-backed brothel, he is kept at a heavily guarded and secure breeding facility, where he is forced to feed the lustful whims of Helios’s elite at night. He bides his time, waiting for a chance to escape and get his revenge on the woman who betrayed him…

Her satisfaction…

Once a sex thrall, Fatin earned her freedom through service. Now, as a bounty hunter, she is determined to earn enough to buy her sister’s papers from the same brothel she escaped. For this, she abducts a brutishly handsome, breed-worthy specimen from the Viking planet and delivers him to auction. But her desire for justice and his desire for freedom may consume both of them in a passion neither wanted—or can resist.

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Undeniably Sexy!

For my latest release, I couldn’t decide whether to write a cowboy or a vampire story—so I made it both! ~DD

The best defense is no match for desire this hot…

Kate McKinnon’s Sanctuary is an island of refuge in a western frontier shrouded in post-apocalyptic chaos. Her only escape from her crushing responsibilities is occasional radio contact with other pockets of survivors. Especially one man whose deep, raspy voice cuts through her exhaustion, straight to her heart. A man whose face she has only imagined.

When she and her ranch hands are surrounded by renegades, she doesn’t recognize the leader of the militaristic band that rescues them, but knows that voice.

Ty Bennett is already half in love with the human woman whose voice haunts his dreams. His impulsive offer to add muscle to the Sanctuary’s defenses is dangerous to them both. Helping her may redeem some of his sins, but proximity only increases his hunger to possess her—body, soul…and blood.

Without hesitation, she welcomes Ty and his men into the Sanctuary…only to discover the reason why they only ride at night. Yet the survival instinct that screams at her to drive them off is no match for Ty’s seductive powers. Or the need for protection from the threat that howls at Sanctuary’s gates.

Kate pushed back the edge of her duster and tucked it behind the holster hanging from Sam’s gun belt. She walked into the store and straight up to the cashier’s desk, doing her best to ignore the overpowering stench of rotting food coming from the produce section. She reached into the shelf above the station, rooting for a pack of cigarettes, but found none and cursed.

So she returned her attention to the front doors and kept track of the men’s progress which she could judge because Shep stood at the end of each row as Danny ran down the aisles to fill one squeaking cart after another according to Shep’s shouted instructions.

She glanced at her watch—fifteen minutes. Too long. “Time to wrap it up. We have to go, guys,” she shouted. It really shouldn’t take this long. There wasn’t much left on the shelves. She glanced down, kicked a cockroach off her boot and squashed it with her heel.

When the men moved into the storage area at the back of the building, she tensed, listening for any signs of trouble in the back, any signs of ambush. Not until she heard the whirring of the cart wheels coming down the aisle again did she let out a relieved breath.

She ran through the entrance to stand guard over the truck while Shep and Danny emptied the contents of the carts into the truck bed—mostly canned goods and paper products. Everything else had been eaten by bugs and mice or was too rotten for human consumption.

“Any place else we need to stop?” Shep asked.

“Just need to get the gas.”

The stacked five-gallon cans in the truck bed represented their hope they’d find enough fuel to run the generator and give them precious light for a few more weeks.

“We’ll head to the Exxon station,” she said. “It’s more open.”

At the gas station, she pulled out the key to the underground storage tank Mr. Jeffers had left her when he migrated east, and while Shep lowered a garden hose into the well to siphon gas into the canisters, she again kept watch.

When he was filling the last of the cans, she heard the sounds she’d dreaded—vehicles coming down the road at a fast clip. “Load up, guys. We’re done.”

Shep pulled up the hose and quickly locked the cap to the well, then bounded into the cab of the truck with the energy of a man much younger than his sixty years. Adrenaline could do that to a man.

Kate peeled out of the parking lot, heading back the way to Sanctuary, but as she’d feared, vehicles turned sideways in the road blocked their exit. She spun the steering wheel, running up over the curb to double back the way they’d come. “Don’t you dare fire on them,” she shouted to Danny. “If they shoot back they could hit that gas. Let’s find us a place where we can stand off.”

The First Baptist Church was just around the corner and not a likely place for monsters to hide.

She ran up over the curb, all the way up to the front steps of the church, and everyone piled out of the truck and dove for the front doors as vehicles careened into the parking lot behind them.

“Shep, you check the back entrance,” she shouted as she broke out a stained-glass window with her pistol grip. “Danny, you get up into the choir loft and keep watch from the upstairs windows.”

They waited while vehicles circled the parking lot, effectively encircling the building. Whooping shouts rang in the air.

“How much ammo you got on you, girl?” Shep shouted from the opposite end of the church.

She patted her duster pockets. “Enough. I don’t miss much.”

“Don’t look like we need silver load.”

He was right. What surrounded them weren’t werebeasts—it was the lowest form of human life—those who preyed on the survivors.

“Well, this will be easy pickin’s,” she murmured, and steeled herself for the coming confrontation.

Kate didn’t wait to hear what they might say. The only thing they wanted was her—women were a scarce commodity on the frontier. She took a bead down the barrel of her pistol and squeezed off a shot through the windshield of a pickup, pleased at the splash of red that exploded against the glass. She spared a thought for the fact she felt less remorse murdering this scum than she did vicious werebeasts. But the renegades had chosen their course. The wolves were victims acting on instinct. One of the women she sheltered had fallen into their clutches for a short time before she’d managed an escape. Kate could only guess at what she’d suffered because to this day she barely spoke and couldn’t look a man in the eyes.

Cool as ice, she chose another target, unwilling to let even a tremor of fear or regret ruin her shot—doing like her daddy taught her, pretending the men ducking behind their vehicles were just the paper targets she’d practiced on.

One. Two. Three down. Then Shep’s shotgun exploded with a roar, catching a cry closer than she’d expected. Were they sneaking up on them?

“What do you see, Danny?” she shouted as she flattened her back against the wall next to the window.

“We’ve got maybe twenty of the bastards out there,” Danny’s excited voice echoed from above. “But they seem to be holding back now.”

“Hello in there,” a tinny voice said over a loudspeaker. “We don’t mean you any harm. You had no call to fire on us. We were just…seeing if you needed help.”

Kate gave Shep a skeptical glance. She edged closer to the window to shout outside. “Well, we don’t. Why don’t you move along?”

“Thought I saw a woman in there,” the man said, the tone of his voice sly. “Honey, we can offer you better protection than an old man and a boy.”

Kate curled her upper lip in a snarl. “Thanks for the offer, but we won’t be stayin’ in town long.”

Laughter sounded outside, low and not especially amused. It had a dirty edge to it and made her skin crawl.
With the lull, she ejected her magazine and inserted a full clip into her pistol.

“It’s gonna be nighttime soon,” the voice outside said. “You really should find shelter. We have a nice place. Plenty to eat.”

A sick knot formed in the pit of her stomach knowing what the trade would be. However, she’d run up against their sort before and prevailed. The trick was to keep her wits about her.

If she could just get a shot at the guy behind the mike…

A long silence followed. She darted a glance around the window sill and realized the attention of the men around surrounding the building was on something in the distance. Then she heard it—engines, big ones, roaring their way.

Being the cowards they were, the gang bolted into their vehicles as quickly as they could and departed. Right behind them appeared a convoy of green camouflaged military vehicles. Hummers and large, canvas-topped transport vehicles with machine–gun turrets mounted on top.

Kate kept to the shadows while watching the long column of trucks come into view. “Shep, you see that?”

“Didn’t know they were operating this far into the frontier,” he said, coming up behind her to peek out the window. “Better stay inside ’til we know whose side they’re on.”

She expected the convoy to continue on past, but one by one they pulled into the church parking lot.
Kate held her breath, her heartbeat racing—the first suffocating wash of true fear pouring down her spine in an icy fall.

From the lead vehicle, a door opened and a man dressed in blue jeans and a black leather jacket jumped from the cab to the hard pavement below.

Her first sight of him told her instinctively here was bigger trouble than she’d already faced. This wasn’t the stupid scum she’d squared off with. He was a hundred times more intimidating.

For one, he was a big man. Taller even then Sam, his wide shoulders and muscled thighs bespoke of years of physical training. In close quarters, he’d be impossible to beat. She squeezed the grip of her weapon harder, already thinking about where she’d have to place the first shot to bring him down quick.

The closer he strode, the greater her unease. Not only did he have the size to make her heart leap to the back of her throat, he moved with a rangy grace that said he’d be fast on his feet. His face with its square jaw and sharp cheekbones completed the portrait of an unstoppable man once he’d set his eyes on a target.
Now she just hoped that dark, hard gaze never rested on her.

While she drew deep breaths to calm her racing heart and the tremor of her hands, an uninvited thought crossed her mind. If she weren’t battling for her life in the middle of an Apocalypse, this would be the sort of man she’d want. Dangerous, brutal—sexy as hell.

But he was dressed in civilian clothes and riding in a military vehicle. Was he just the leader of a smarter band of criminals?

He stopped about twenty paces from the church doors and put his hands on his hips. “Kate McKinnon, are you in there?”

She jerked at the familiar deep tones of his voice. Her startled glance found Shep’s.

His eyes were narrowed in his lined face, and he shook his head. “You know him?” he hissed. “Might be some kind a trick.”

“This is Ty Bennett.”

Kate closed her eyes and sank against the wall, feeling like her whole world was spinning out of control. How could this be?

“Kate, the cavalry’s here, sweetheart.”

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My Crazy Month of Releases!

I have five, count them, FIVE releases this month! It’s crazy. And there’s no way I can adequately get the word out for them all. Here’s a quick rundown. If any strike your fancy, click on the cover and read an excerpt! ~DD

May 1 — The Warrior’s Touch


Lieutenant Farideh Kalani expected her time-traveling assignment in ancient Scythia to be difficult, but fitting in with Amazon warriors is easy compared to being partnered with Sergeant First Class Caleb MacAvoy. The Texan soldier is infuriatingly smug and undeniably sexy. Then with one kiss, he awakens all Farideh’s desires. Now she’ll have to keep an eye on her mission and try to resist her attraction to Caleb. Because he’s the one man who might be able to breach the walls she’s built around her heart….

* * * * *

May 13 — Begging For It

She needs punishment…before she deserves pleasure.

Tragedy scarred TJ Lipton. Now, the only way she can find pleasure is when its delivered with a heavy-handed dose of S&M. But finding a lover who can give her what she needs proves an elusive quest—until she finds the sex club Unfettered and a Dom named Cross McNally.

Cross understands all too well what drives TJ. He takes command of her body to give her everything she needs—restraint, the stinging kiss of a flogger, the thrill of a three-way—a sexual adventure that pulls her beyond her painful past and has her begging for more of his tender brand of domination.

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May 26 — Her Soul to Keep

One night of pleasure…

His name is Viper—a dark mysterious enigma who rules the seedy, dangerous vampiric underworld. For one night, he will escape his murky prison and tempt an innocent.

…can last a lifetime…

Beautiful Mariah haunts him. Lures him from his den with a glimpse of his past. One she doesn’t remember. This night, he’ll be her dream lover. He’ll seduce her, make her fall in love with him—then leave her. Again.

One night of pleasure is all they must know.

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Plus, featured in two Cleis Press collections…