It’s Saturday morning and I slept in just a little. So I’m running just a little behind. I was going to post something mind-blowingly clever, but now I only have time for this.

There are TWO chances to win something today. Look for ’em!

A Random Scavenger Hunt

I just completed updates to my website, and since I went to that expense, someone is going to darn well enjoy it! (Do you hear the maniacal laughter?)

Following are the questions. You can find the ALL the answers on my website. Be sure to email me your answers DIRECTLY to me at delilah@delilahdevlin.com. Do not help everyone else by posting your answers in the comments! For everyone who sends me their answers, they will be entered to win a $5 gift certificate from Amazon.com! So, not a lot of money, but hey—that could get you five $.99 stories on Amazon!

The Questions:

1) What three stories appear on my Bookshelf page?

2) Which story cover on my Upcoming/Coming Soon page depicts a woman wearing a monocle?

3) Have you signed up for both my newsletter and to get my blog emailed right to your inbox? *hint* Glance down the left-hand column of this blog.

4) What book is coming April 15 and is ready for pre-order now?

Friday’s New Shorty

Just FYI. I promised a new short story every Friday until April.

This week’s new release is Drive Me Crazy. For now, these 5000-word stories can be found only on Kindle. They are free to Kindle Unlimited readers and just $.99 to everyone else.

She’s out for one night of passion in a trucker’s big rig…

Get it at the Kindle store!

I have a brand new page on my website devoted to the shorties. If you’d like to see what’s already out, as well as what’s coming, check it out! Shortie Page

Contest

Win a free download of either Wet Down or Watch Over Me! All you have to do is answer the following questions in the comments!

Which covers on the Shorties page most appeal to you?

UPDATE: The winner of the gift card is…Mary Preston!

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Honey is heeerrrre! It’s a gorgeous cover, isn’t it? Enjoy the excerpt I’ve included. It’s just a tease. Things get zanier and sexier in a hurry. Honey has heart, too.

If you read it, I’d love to know how you enjoyed it. And if you have time and don’t mind, I’d love for you to post a review. Reviews do help other readers make up their minds to buy.

Post a comment today for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card. I’ll be awarding the prizes for the countdown postings later today, so you still have time to enter!

Something’s on the rise in Two-Mule, Texas. And it ain’t just the temperature.

1880, West Texas

Honey Cafferty lives a happy, if precarious, existence as a traveling saleswoman. She sells her elixirs and potions while searching for the one thing she hasn’t been able to brew from the back of her colorful wagon—a sense of belonging. She arrives in Two Mule, Texas, with her Elixir of Love, a potion that improves a man’s libido but might just get her run out of town.

Sheriff Joe Tanner is protective of his little town. Downright hostile toward anyone who might take advantage of the fine folk under his protection. Any snake-oil salesman who rolls into town better just keep right on rolling.

Honey isn’t what Joe expected, from her vibrant red hair and cat-green eyes to her curvy mouth and hips. And when the men of the town begin to plead exhaustion—and place the blame squarely on her sweet-smelling shoulders—Joe has no choice but to launch an investigation. A very, very deep investigation…

Warning: Contains a sheriff who prides himself on keeping his town running as smooth as a well-greased wagon wheel, and a wandering saleswoman who’s more than a bump (and grind) in his road.

Buy at: Samhain | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

“Sheriff, you’ve gotta do somethin’ about that woman.”

The note of exasperation in Curly Hicks’s voice was one Joe Tanner had heard often in the past couple of days—at least from the unmarried men of the town. He didn’t need to ask which woman Curly was talking about. He already knew who was responsible for Curly’s agitation. Her name was on everybody’s lips, although the tones with which her name was spoken varied widely.

He was curious what the normally reticent shopkeeper had to say about the lady in question. “Just what do you want me to do about her, Curly?”

“Send her packin’! She’s up to somethin’. Cain’t tell you ’xactly what, but ever since she came, nothin’s been the same.”

So he wasn’t the only one to notice. Since the day Honey Cafferty’s fancy-painted wagon had rolled into town, the mood around Two Mule had seemed…expectant, like the town itself was wakening from a long slumber and had suddenly discovered every joyful holiday was all wrapped inside one bright, shining moment.

Which posed a dilemma for Joe. Two Mule had elected him to keep the peace and things had been riding smooth like a Conestoga over flat land—no bumps, no bone-jarring thuds. So far, the townsfolk had been pretty satisfied with their lives. It was a quiet place—the right kind of town to set down deep roots—and he intended to keep it that way.

However, Honey Cafferty had a way about her that was anything but quiet. She radiated shimmering sensuality, from her vibrant red hair and cat-like green eyes to her lushly curved lips and body. Everything about her shouted like Fourth of July fireworks and crazily spinning whirligigs, eliciting a restless hunger in him that had no place in his tidy little life. Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner of the free download is Lynne Rivet!

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“It’s all about that badge, ’bout that badge, no trouble…” That isn’t how that song goes? And now it’s in your head…

You’re welcome! But isn’t it true? Don’t you love the thought of a man with a badge—sworn to protect—and all you want is for that man to prove he’s a hero? Well, my hero in Sweeter Than Honey is a lot like Colt Triplehorn. A man torn between duty and his heart. And since this is a romance, we know which way he’ll swing, right?

Am I tempting you yet? You can pre-order your copy at Samhain, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Kobo.

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a free
download  from among my Triple Horn Brand stories!
And don’t forget to enter yesterday’s drawing too. I won’t be
picking any prizes until release day, tomorrow!

“With amazing suspense, and hot, dominant lovin’ this cowboy and his high school sweetheart take the reader on an amazing emotional journey… Once again, thank you, Ms. Devlin, for stealing my heart with complex and witty characters, hot sex and riveting suspense!” 5/5 Books, Reviews by Molly

“Devlin has done it again! I pretty much gobble up anything she writes and “Laying Down the Law” is another hit…” The Brunette Librarian
Seeking sanctuary could be the hottest mistake she ever made.

The TripleHorn Brand, Book 1

A lifetime ago, Zuri Prescott kicked the dirt off her boots and ditched her small-time small town for the glam city life—and lived to regret it. When she’s framed for a bank job, she lights out for home, seeking refuge with her old high school sweetheart while she figures out her next steps. Only she discovers that the boy she left behind is the last man she should trust.

Sheriff Colt Triplehorn knows trouble when he sees it, especially when it comes in the form of a familiar trespasser, caught naked between an angry bull and her underwear. Sure she’s up to her usual no good, he grants her sanctuary at his ranch—the better to keep an eye on her, and purge her from his system once and for all.

Reconnection is sweet and hot, but the heat can’t hide the truth. When Colt inevitably finds out what Zuri’s running from, it’s too late to put the fire out, and he’s got a career-compromising choice on his hands. Follow the letter of the law, or follow his heart.

Product Warnings: When a sheriff captures the girl who got away, expect revenge so hot it leaves brands on two lonely hearts…

Zuri looked up, her hands pulling the belt tighter around her waist, grateful that this time she was covered neck to mid-calf. Still, she was hyper-aware she was naked underneath it and only one knot away from making another big mistake.

“You find everything you needed?” he asked, his tone impersonal.

Oddly, she thought she might actually prefer that ragged edge of anger he’d blistered her with by the river. “Yes, thanks.” She dropped the ties and smoothed her hands down her sides, nervous beneath his unblinking stare. “I don’t suppose you have anything I might wear, besides this robe, that is.” She flushed at how awkward this felt, how ridiculous her situation was. A closet full of clothes hung waiting for her six hundred miles away.

“You’re pretty skinny. I might have some sweatpants and a T-shirt, but you’ll have to cinch in the pants at the waist to keep ’em from fallin’ off.”

Skinny? Once he’d likened her slender frame to a filly’s, and she’d taken it as the highest compliment. She lifted her chin. “That’d be fine.”

She jerked when he strode for her, but he edged around the bed, headed to his dresser and pulled out a pair of gray sweat pants and a navy tee. He tossed both on the bed, and then stood with his hands fisted on his hips.

Zuri bit back a complaint, wishing he’d quit hovering because he was keeping her on edge. But when he didn’t budge, she dragged her feet to the bed, scooped up the wash-softened cotton and turned toward the bathroom.

“Uh uh,” he said, tsking softly. “My house. My clothes. My rules.” Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner of the free download is…Robin!

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Yesterday, I slept late. Today, I was up at 5:30. I guess my subconscious wasn’t going to let me rest because I lost work-time yesterday futzing with my printer. Darn thing burned up. Add that to the computer going to the “blue screen of death” and I think technology was just reminding me not to take it for granted.

Anyway, I have a book coming out on Tuesday and I’m doing this little countdown, hoping to tempt you into pre-ordering my funny-sexy, historical western, Sweeter Than Honey. Yesterday, I reminded you I can write humor. Today, I’m proving I can write cowboys. You can pre-order your copy at Samhain, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Kobo.

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a free download of True Heart. And don’t forget to enter yesterday’s drawing too. I won’t be picking any prizes until release day, February 10th (Tuesday, for those of us who can’t keep track of the date!).

 

“I have a definite soft spot in my heart for the strong silent type and True in this story…that’s my kind of guy. A little rough around the edges that loves as hard as he works. Can I PLEASE have a True? Man alive.”  Taryn Elliott on on TRUE HEART

“I thought the story behind True was fascinating; he is a captivating character. A delightful read.”  Sensual Reads

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.” Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner of the free download is…Maggie!

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I slept in! That’s why this is late. It’s 8 AM and I’m still yawning, but it’s the good kind, like after you’ve had a very restful night and your body doesn’t quite want to let go… I’ll find a cup of coffee in a minute.

I have a new release coming from Samhain coming next Tuesday, February 10. Actually, it’s a new old release. Sweeter Than Honey was formerly A Taste of Honey and was published in Wild, Wild Women of the West years ago. I spiffed up the tale and sent it off to my editor. And I can’t wait for new readers to find it. It’s a very funny story. If I can laugh through sections I’ve read a million times, you know it’s funny. And it’s sexy. The poor sheriff of an old West Texas town is knocked sideways by a pretty, force-of-nature redhead. You can pre-order your copy at Samhain, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Kobo. Did I mention it is set in the town of Two Mule where my Lone Star Lovers live?

Maybe I should remind you I can write funny.

I’m sharing an excerpt from Bad, Bad Girlfriend today, and I’ll give away a free download from that book to one lucky commenter.

“Ms. Devlin will have readers laughing one minute and screaming the next… Bad, Bad Girlfriend is a witty, heart pounding smoking hot read that is a must have.” 5 Angels, Fallen Angels

“Bad, Bad Girlfriend is just plain fun!…” 5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance

“My emotions ran wild while reading Bad, Bad Girlfriend… Don’t miss this mischievous woman’s attempts to secure her man’s love. I had a fantastic time reading Jolie and Gabe’s story.” 5 Silver Dragons, Veiled Secrets Reviews

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 heard the music, tried to catch the beat, but she’d never been so scared, so embarrassed in her life.

She knew she’d made a huge mistake the minute she’d entered the stripper’s dressing room. Lexie had ushered her in after Guppy, the skinny, bespectacled manager of the strip club, let them in the back door and showed them to the women’s dressing room. She already wore her costume under a tightly belted trench coat, but getting her first up-close look at the other women awaiting their turns on the stage made her lose her nerve.

She turned back toward the exit.

Lexie stood behind her, her arms crossed over her chest. “No you don’t. Not after I paid him a hundred dollars to let you do this!”

“You paid him?”

Lexie shrugged. “He prefers professionals, but he’s not above a bribe.”

“Great. You had to pay him to let me take off my clothes. Get out of my way.”

Lexie’s chin firmed, and her eyes narrowed into the meanest look her friend could manage. “You talked me into this. You convinced me this was a good idea. No way are you going to chicken out now.”

“They’ll laugh at me,” Jolie whispered furiously.

The other women, even the curvier ones, weren’t as well-padded.

One the women nearest them, eyed Jolie in the glass as she applied a wide streak of eyeliner. “We’ve had big girls before. Some of the men prefer ’em. Give it a go, hon.”

Jolie didn’t appreciate the advice and straightened her spine, ready to walk right through Lexie if she didn’t get the hell out of her way.

Lexie lifted her chin. “You want a ring, remember? A commitment. You want him to notice you, know you’re desirable for more than your cupcakes.” Read the rest of this entry »

The winner of the Amazon gift card (chosen by random number generator) is…Angel Shaw!

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I wanted to bring 2015 in with a fierce roar. That’s this year’s word: Fierce. I decided to put intense, fierce focus on my writing and publishing. So, I needed a fierce little book to start January with a punch. Watch Over Me is the first of the Uncharted SEAL series. I decided I’d do an all SEAL collection of unconnected stories, using my favorite SEAL tropes: The bodyguard, the captive rescue, the pirate rescue, etc. You get the picture. Something fun and sexy with a dash of action.

I hope you’ll read Watch Over Me, and if you do, that you’ll leave a review on your favorite bookseller’s website or tell a friend.

Buy at: Amazon | Kobo | iBooks

Comment today and you’ll be entered to win a $10 Amazon gift card!

Watch Over Me

Deke Warrick’s unsanctioned detail is to keep tabs on a congressman’s daughter while she vacations in the Caribbean. He’s determined to keep his distance from the beautiful Nicky Martir, but finds his limits tested when Nicky sets out to seduce him.

What seemed like a simple mission becomes deliciously complicated—and then dangerous, when she’s snatched from their hotel room.

Amazon | Kobo | iBooks

Deke Warrick pushed his sunglasses down his nose to peer at the woman stretched on a chaise not five feet away. She laid face down, her head turned away, thick brown hair held in place by a clip. From the slowness of her breaths, he knew she was dozing. And since he figured she wouldn’t be leaving the beach anytime soon, he relaxed, forcing his fingers to stretch around the teak wood arms of his lounge chair.

After two connecting flights and a short leg in a specially chartered puddle-jumper, at last he had eyes on Nicky Martir. He knew the woman was her because a hotel staff member he’d bribed had pointed her out. Assistance he’d needed because at the moment she didn’t look anything like the air-brushed Facebook photo he’d been given. After finding her, he’d checked out the hotel’s parking and lounge area, all entrances and exits, the stairwells, and then greased the palms of the concierge and wait staff. His initial recon over, he now had time to focus on his target.

From his vantage point, he’d already determined his former commander’s “little girl” was all grown up. In fact, she was a very well-proportioned woman with lush curves above and below a narrow waist. Must have taken after her mother, he mused, because her father’s frame didn’t sport an ounce of excess flesh. At the moment, her bottom was most prominent—rounded, firm, and displayed all too well by the narrow thong bisecting her cheeks. Not that he wanted to notice, but hell, it was right there, and with more than enough curve that a healthy, hetero man could well imagine his hands gripping each mound as he…

“Señor, would you like another drink?”

Deke jerked. No one had managed to sneak up on him in a long time, which said a lot about Nicky’s attractiveness.

The cabana girl’s voice held a note of irritation. Her dark brows were drawn into a frown, her lips pursed in disapproval. But not because he’d been ogling a sleeping girl. He’d claimed a spot beneath a thatched umbrella at the edge of the small tiki bar’s outdoor seating area, and he had yet to deliver on the promise he’d made with his smile when he’d asked for this prime piece of real estate. The seat with its attached table provided a perfect view of the beach, as well as the private gated entrance of the hotel parking lot. More importantly, the chair was situated near Nicky. Not close enough to touch, but from here, he could watch over her, amidst the other sunbathers.

Giving the waitress an equally irritated glance, he reached into his pocket and took out several bills, more than enough for five drinks and a generous tip. “Bring me a virgin mojito,” he murmured quietly. A ruse to disguise the fact he hadn’t had a sip of alcohol, because he was on the job—even if this mission was strictly off the books and a favor to a man he admired.

His gaze swung back to the dozing woman. She’d turned her head while he’d been talking to the waitress and was facing him now, a dark fringe of long lashes resting against her cheeks. Yeah, her photo hadn’t done her justice. Sure, he’d known she was pretty, but this close, he could see a smattering of freckles across her nose—a feature she must hide beneath makeup, but which he thought was cute. Made her seem more approachable. Her mouth was full, the bottom lip a little puffier than the top and wide. A mouth made for kissing.

Deke winced and glanced away, feeling guilty over lusting after Commander Martir’s daughter. He was here to do a job. Although Martir had retired from the navy and now held a seat in congress with special oversight of the administration’s war on drugs, he had maintained close ties with the SEAL community, working with his contacts inside the Drug Enforcement Agency to find positions for several of Deke’s friends when they’d started the next phases of their lives. Their special skill set had been a perfect fit for the spec ops work the agency did, and Martir wanted men he could trust working there—disciplined, honorable men. Martir had promised Deke he’d keep a spot open for whenever he was ready to leave DEVGRU/SEAL Team 6, something Deke had automatically refused a year ago. But after his last deployment in the sandbox, he was having second thoughts. Martir’s timing, approaching him the day after Deke set boots back on the tarmac at Oceana, VA, had seemed like a sign.

Deke had answered a summons to his present commander’s office, and instead found Martir standing with his back to the door as he stared out across the green, hands clasped behind his back. Other than the gray at his temples, Fred Martir looked exactly as he had when he’d been the one in charge here.

Deke entered the room and shut the door behind him. “Sir,” he said, coming to attention—out of respect for a former officer who had been a SEAL himself.

When the congressman turned, he raked his gaze over Deke, dressed in a fresh uniform, but still looking scruffy due to the beard he kept while deployed and the non-reg hair he’d let grow well past his collar. “At ease, Deke. Callahan,” he said, referring to the team’s present commander, “tells me you’ve accumulated leave which you refuse to take.”

As he narrowed his gaze, Deke slid his hands behind his back and braced his feet apart, wondering where that statement was leading. “I didn’t exactly refuse, sir. I prefer sticking close to base.” That he didn’t have family to visit or a girlfriend to spend time with was no one’s business but his own. And no one needed to know how uncomfortable he’d come to feel wandering outside his close-knit community.

The older man’s gaze locked on Deke. “This last rotation—I hear things got pretty rough.”

Deke straightened his shoulders. Not a secret, but definitely not something he wanted to discuss. “We lost two good men. Happens.” And while his words were spare, maybe even a little too nonchalant, he couldn’t keep the gravel from his voice at the thought of Sting’s death, or the fact he’d been the one to gather what was left of Mark’s body before he’d humped it back to the helo.

“Callahan says your OIC would prefer you take a break. But since I know you’re a stubborn son of a bitch, I have a proposition for you. Something that’ll get your commander off your back. A job. Strictly off the books. Something personal.” He cleared his throat. “For me.”

Deke met Martir’s gaze, steady as always, but noted there was a hint of worry there, a tension reflected in the deepened lines of his face. Whatever his reason for being here had to be pretty important because he’d never seen that expression on the older man’s face. “I’m listening.”

Deke learned that Martir had received death threats from a drug cartel unhappy with recent crackdowns he’d helped orchestrate. And while his ex-wife and daughter lived well-away from DC and out of the public eye, he was worried about their safety.

“I have eyes on my wife, but my daughter…” He shook his head. “She has vacation plans she’s refused to postpone. And she wouldn’t accept my offer of a bodyguard.” Martir winced. “If you haven’t guessed already, we’re not on the best of terms. She tends to do the exact opposite of anything I suggest.”

A situation that almost made Deke smile—the thought that anyone would stand up to the tough old bird. And just as quickly, he decided this “job,” even if it was a boondoggle, was an assignment he needed. A purpose to focus on beside the sorrow and guilt that weighed him down. “Sir, what exactly do you want me to do?”

Just a day later, he’d managed to track down his former commander’s daughter on this little speck of an island in the Caribbean. Despite Commander Martir’s fears his family might be targeted due to recent media leaks, Deke doubted Nicky was in any serious danger of retaliation. Not here. The island was too small—both in size and in population—for any group to infiltrate undetected among the small tourist population. But Martir was picking up the tab for this working vacation, so Deke would keep frosty.

Not that doing so required effort. Deke had forgotten how to relax. The attitude was one he had to force himself to try because he knew his constant edginess wasn’t healthy. Might even be a sure sign of some nasty issues he’d never admit to, but that could wind up biting him in the butt if he didn’t handle them on his own. A vacation in the Caribbean should have fit the bill. Not that an island getaway would have been on his short list of places he’d want to chill after a long deployment. He was sick to death of heat, even if a light sea breeze made the hot sunlight bearable. Still, the view wasn’t bad.

Again, he shifted in his chair, trying not to stare too long at Nicky’s lovely ass. Dressed in Hawaiian-themed swimming trunks, the only style he’d found in the hotel gift shop other than skin-tight bikini Speedos, he worried he couldn’t hide his growing interest in the pretty brunette’s many assets. She was off-limits. Any woman would be, because he wouldn’t allow any distractions. Even if this mission was a cake-walk, he’d give the work a hundred-ten percent of his attention. He was a SEAL; after twelve years on the DEVGRU team, mission focus was part of his DNA.

A movement caught his eye. Small hands slid up the side of the chaise, going for the bow securing her bikini top at the back.

Deke gritted his teeth. As the ribbons loosened and the bra fell away, he had a glimpse of pretty white breast, just the side, but the swell was generous. Now he was imagining a full frontal view. Would her nipples be pink or brown? Once he’d dated a girl with pale beige nipples that had turned a lovely rose when…

“Dammit,” he said under his breath and looked away again, breathing deeply as he willed his body not to tighten. He scanned the other chaises and then looked out to the ocean, counting through the approach of three sets of waves.

When he glanced back at the chaise, he spotted those pink-tipped fingers reaching to the ground and scooting a bottle of sunscreen across the sand. Toward him.

His gaze shot to her pretty cognac brown eyes, and he caught her small, one-sided smile.

“Do you mind?” she asked, her voice a little raspy, like a woman might sound when she first woke in the morning. Like maybe he was the first person she’d spoken to that day.

What the hell? Some covert operator he was—he hadn’t managed to hide his attraction. If he didn’t act on her question, she might come to the conclusion he was a perv or a stalker. Better to make a move, but he’d keep it light.

Slipping off his chair, he strode toward her, bending to snag the bottle. “Just the back?” he asked, keeping his tone amused.

“And anywhere you think needs it,” she said, her voice breathier this time.

Deke blew out a long stream of air then turned back to where he’d been seated, carefully placing the rolled-up towel he’d brought that hid the compact Beretta Nano the pilot on the puddle jumper had provided beside him. Then kneeling, he dribbled creamy liquid that smelled of coconut and Shea butter across her shoulders and gently laid his hands on her hot, golden skin. Under his fingers were firm muscles cloaking her slender frame. And tension knotting her shoulders. “Relax. I can’t get too fresh. Too many people around, anyway.” He smoothed the thick liquid over her shoulders, fingers wrapping around the tops to give her a light massage. “How’d you know I spoke English?”

“I heard you talking to the waitress.”

“Oh.” He’d tried to keep his voice lowered so he wouldn’t attract her attention. Either he was slipping, or she had super-power hearing.

“You here on vacation?” she asked.

Why would she think otherwise? He pressed his thumbs against the knots at the back of her neck. “I am.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

“My dad send you?”

UPDATE: The winner of the free download is…Kim Smith!

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Are you a fan of short stories? Have you ever read one? I love reading and writing them. Good thing, because one of my jobs is “editor” for sexy anthologies for Cleis Press.

I love short stories for many reasons.

• It’s a very short, satisfying journey to THE END.
• I can experiment with genre and see whether I’m any good at writing something different.
• Writing shorts cleans my writer’s palate much like eating bread at a wine-tasting.
• It’s just plain fun.

I write short stories for the collections I edit, but I also love to write them for other people’s collections. I get rejected the same as anyone else, so it’s still a rush to make the cut when a story is accepted. And because I normally retain all rights for the stories, I like to bundle them up occasionally into my own little self-pubbed volumes of Strokes. So far, I’ve published two. In a month or two, I’ll be publishing the third.  Today, I’m giving away a copy of the first volume to one lucky commenter. The second volume had to be republished a few months ago, and I lost all my reviews. 🙁 So if anyone happens to pick up a copy, I’d love you forever if you posted a review!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered
to win a free download of Strokes, Volume 1!

Strokes, Volume 2

Click to Buy

From New York Times bestselling author, Delilah Devlin, comes another naughty collection of seven bedtime stories—a week’s worth of nighttime reading pleasure.

Ride along with two soldiers, just returned from war, who find sweet release in “The Long Ride Home.” In “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn,” a woman has one last fling with two sexy construction workers. A cowboy kidnaps his “Runaway Bride” to get some sweet satisfaction. A woman travelling alone in Europe enjoys a hot steamy sauna in the “Textile Free” zone. In “Love in Bloom,” a florist tempts her high school crush. A naughty nooner with an office colleague ends in a “Quick Draw.” A dispatcher kicks inhibitions to the door when she seduces a younger truck driver in “Drive Me Crazy.”

Four of the stories have appeared in separate Cleis Press anthologies. Two of the stories were featured in Penthouse magazine! All the stories are featured in one sinfully hot collection…

Excerpt from “The Long Ride Home”…

White-hot sun beat down on the tops of our helmets. Sweat pooled between our shoulder blades and dampened the necks of our t-shirts. However, it was a hot, humid East Texas heat—so unlike what we’d endured for the past eleven months that none standing in formation really minded. We were home.

I watched it trickle down the side of one particular soldier’s neck as he stood in the row in front of me. Not for the first time, I thought I’d like the chance to lick it away.

Not that Staff Sergeant Mason Haddox had a clue how I felt. We’d been part of the same platoon—played volleyball and shot hoops, drove trucks over long, barely paved expanses of desert and mountains, and cleaned our weapons, side by side—but he hadn’t seen me as anything but another private who needed looking after.

And yet, his tall, muscled frame, black close-cropped hair and wintry blue eyes had made quite an impression. I’d lusted after him since the first time he’d shown up drill weekend, a month before we’d deployed. His steadfast calm during the most nightmarish day of my life had only cemented his attraction.

My nose started to itch, and I wrinkled it, hoping formation would break soon so I could scratch it. My feet were roasting in the boots sticking to the black pavement.

True to his word, our commander kept his speech short. A good thing, since SSG Haddox fidgeted, hands tightening and easing, swaying slightly on his feet as though waiting to spring into action. I knew he scanned the crowd seated in the bleachers from the corners of his eyes, hoping she’d show, that she’d changed her mind. I’d looked too and knew she wasn’t there—and wouldn’t be coming. I felt bad for him, but was also secretly hopeful he’d be ready to let go, that he wouldn’t do something stupid now we were back.

Just a month before we began preparations for our unit’s return from Afghanistan, Haddox had gotten the Dear John letter from his girlfriend, informing him she’d moved his belongings from their apartment into a storage unit. She’d included two keys taped to the page—one for the storage unit and one to his Mustang. She’d written she was sorry, but had he really expected her to wait all those months?

Had I been in her shoes, I would have. But then, I knew the feeling of being so far from home that Skype and email couldn’t fill the loneliness. I’d survived it once. However, my husband’s second tour had severed our connection—that and the emails I’d discovered when I’d hacked his Gmail account. Ones he’d sent to a female corporal stationed in another province who was planning a little R&R rendezvous. As quick as that, my love for him dried up like a closed tap. I’d forwarded the email to my account, then sent it to him along with a request for a divorce.

So I knew what Haddox felt. The searing betrayal. The anger. Maybe she’d been a decent person, but personally, I consigned her to hell. The worst thing the person at home could do to a deployed soldier was abandon him when he was too far away to do a damn thing about it.

I hoped he didn’t plan to go find her now.

“Company, attention!”

I snapped into position.

“Dismissed.”

Cheers from our unit and from the family and friends who filled the armory motor pool rang in the late afternoon air.

Head down, Haddox stomped away, not bothering to share a word with anyone.

My sister waved and made her way through the throng spilling from the bleachers, a wide smile splitting her face. I gave her an answering smile, but couldn’t help darting a glance to watch that broad set of shoulders move toward the open motor pool gates—the only space large enough to hold the formation and the guests who’d come to welcome the Reserve unit home.

The buses that had delivered us from the airport were pulling away. Most of the soldiers and their friends and family were heading inside the armory for the welcome home celebration, but Haddox strode toward the parking lot.

I gave my sister a quick hug. “Go say hi to Shelby—he’s got it bad for you.”

She laughed and blushed. “Where are you goin’?” Then her gaze followed mine. “Seriously? I thought you said he was an asshole.”

“He grows on you. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

She gave me a smile and hitched her purse over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. But you better call.”

“Tell Shelby to grab my gear!” Out the gates I sped.

Haddox was already dropping his duffel bag into the trunk of a car—an older model black Mustang.

I halted beside him, trying to figure out what I could say to keep him from driving away.

“You forget something, PFC Hollister?” he asked, glancing to the side as he slammed down the trunk lid.

“Megan,” I said, suddenly breathless. “Thought you might like some company.”

His gaze narrowed. “Did you, now? I’m gonna blow the carbon out of the exhaust. The ride’s gonna be bumpy.”

“I don’t want to get in the way—if you have plans.”

“No plans.” He snorted. “Don’t even have a place to sleep. Didn’t your sister come to pick you up?”

“Yeah, but she’s all right with me leavin’.”

This time, his mouth twisted into something between a smile and a snarl. “Shelby?”

“Yeah. You know they’ve been writing each other.”

His gaze trailed straight down my body, then up again. “Get in.”

I strode quickly to the passenger door, opened it, and slipped into the bucket seat. Then I tossed my hat in the backseat and began unbuttoning my ACU-camouflaged jacket.

When he slid in beside me, one dark brow lifted, but he didn’t say a thing when I threw it into the back as well and sat in my sweat-damp shirt in the musty car.

“Better roll down the windows.” Then he said a little prayer under his breath and turned the key in the ignition. I buckled my seatbelt. The engine rumbled into life. With a quick, tight grin, he jerked the stick into reverse, and then punched it forward. We rolled out onto the street, heading west rather than east into town.

Hot wind whipped through the interior of the car, dispelling the musty air and tugging at my blond hair looped into a clip at the back of my head. I reached back and released it, then laughed as the Mustang roared.

Glancing toward Haddox, I noted the hard edge of his jaw, the hand wrapped so tight around the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearm tensed. I didn’t have to crawl inside his head to know he didn’t want me there, but I was.

Maybe I could help him out a bit. And maybe, he’d see me as more than a fellow soldier who’d shared the bench seat of a deuce-and-a-half truck a time or two. One I’d been driving when he’d had to talk me through a hail of gunfire when our transport convoy came under attack.

I unbuckled my belt, ignoring his deep frown. I turned in the seat and reached for the buttons of his jacket, flicking them open then parting each side.

He didn’t say a thing, but his nostrils flared, his jaw sawed tighter.

I gripped the front of his t-shirt, bunched it in my hand, and tugged it from his ACU trousers.

His stomach jumped, and he sucked it in, making just enough room for me to get my fingers behind the waistband as I unbuckled, unbuttoned and tugged down the zip.

“Dammit, Hollister,” he said, his voice rough as gravel. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

His gruff tone spurred me on. “Not if you keep your eyes on the road,” I said, tilting up my chin. Then I leaned over his lap, folded down the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulled his cock upright.