UPDATE: The winner (chosen by a random number generator) of the free download is
Lori Meehan! Congrats, Lori. I’ll be in touch shortly to arrange delivery of your prize!

* * * * *

Are you still feeling the “Christmas Hangover”? I’m back on track today, and I’m busy finalizing my 2014 plans.

Today’s flashback is my very first Western with Samhain, which went on to become their bestselling book of 2009. Who knew readers would love my two lonesome cowboys coming to the rescue of one lucky woman… Click on the cover if you’d like to learn more about the book!

Post a comment today and you’ll be entered to win a free download of this story! And if you already have this one, pick another from my list of Western novellas published through Samhain! 

“…I couldn’t put this story down! It was danger, betrayal, sexy and fun all rolled together into the perfect erotic romance. The plot was brilliant, and the characters unique…The sexual scenes will make you clamp your knees together and dream of a sexy cowboy or two of your own…” ~5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance

“…What starts out as an innocent effort to warm Kate up turns into some of the most erotic sex I have ever read along with some of the best dialog I have seen in a book so far this year…The chemistry and interaction between the three of them is well written and keeps you chuckling and turns you on. The characters themselves are so well written you feel for them and you want them to make their alternative relationship work….SADDLED is heart-stopping and fascinating!!!!!!!…” ~5 Stars, Vixen Reviews

“…Delilah Devlin’s storylines never fail to pull readers into the story and SADDLED is no exception…Of course the sex scenes are scorching and adventurous with the perfect blend of emotional turmoil to ensure readers keep Ms. Devlin’s name at the top of their ‘must read’ list.” ~4.5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

Slippery when naked…

When Bobby Blackhawk and Cale Yancey see a car slide off the highway and into an icy creek, they’ve got only minutes to get the beautiful driver out alive. And only one way to save her from hypothermia: take her to their isolated cabin, get naked…and hope like hell that when she wakes up, she doesn’t scream the place down.

Katherine Duvall opens her eyes in a strange bed, and the tingles flooding her body aren’t entirely due to restored circulation. She’s snuggled between two handsome men, one a gruff, gentle giant, the other a sexy, playful Native American. Having just left her fiancé romping with another woman, she’s not quite as shocked as she might have been.

In fact, these two lonesome cowboys could be the perfect bookends to satisfy her hunger for revenge and bolster her dented self esteem. It’s not long before their raging hormones are melting the snow on the cabin roof.

To their surprise, they find something else is melting, too. Their hearts…

Katherine Duvall awoke as sensation flooded her feet and hands—sharp prickling pinches that made her moan.

“Yeah, it’s gonna hurt. But it’s a good sign sweetheart,” a man whispered against her hair. “And there’s no frostbite. I checked.”

He’d checked? One fact penetrated her pain-filled fog. He’d done a lot more than checked. She was naked. And his bare-naked body was pressed up against her back, a penis nudging her bottom.

“Where are my clothes?” she gasped, choking on outrage and fear.

“Had to shuck ‘em. They were soaked.”

She remembered the car sliding into the water. But why wasn’t she in a hospital? “Where am I?”

“In my cabin. Couldn’t chance taking you back to Wellesley. Snow’s comin’ down too hard.”

Her fingers stung, and she pulled her hands from under the covers to peer at them in the inky darkness. “How long have I been here?”

“Maybe an hour. Was worried about you two. You both passed out.”

“Both?”

“Bobby went into the creek after you. He’s not in much better shape.”

She edged carefully away from his body, instantly missing the warmth and rolled onto her back to get her first view of her “rescuer”. What she saw didn’t do a whole lot to alleviate her fears.

The man lying beside her was enormous—a broad-shouldered shadow. Her heartbeat thudded against her chest as her alarm grew, and she wondered what else he might have done while she’d been out.

“Let me get the lamp. You sound like you’re about to freak out.”

About to? Read the rest of this entry »

Men in Uniform and a Case of Heroitis (New Release, Contest, Giveaway)

Delilah, thank you, again, for having me guest post! In celebration of this week’s release of A Promise Worth Honoring (#FREE Kindle today and tomorrow), I’ll be giving away one copy each of my first two novellas.

But first, let’s talk about men in uniform, specifically firefighters… the navy, fitted, button-down shirt pressed to perfection that tugs across an Adonis shape, the bulging biceps ready to carry any damsel in distress to safety at a moment’s notice, the creased slacks that hang off a taut waist and conceal supportive thighs… the honorable and compassionate nature and calendar-worthy smile…

Fanning self…

A few years ago in New York, stuck in an elevator with to-die-for-blue-eyed-from-the-Bronx “Andy,” my once articulate speech faded to gibberish.

And he just smiled… I can only describe the sudden physical reaction to a feverish case of Heroitis.

In my opinion, the only thing more attractive than a man in uniform is an entire squad. Lucky for me, as I drive through my true life single-stop-sign town, I pass by the local Fire Station. And they are much more than sex objects. These men support blood drives, offer their station as a voting place, stage chili cook-offs, and serve as headquarters for the annual lighting of the Christmas tree parade and May Day Festival. In our close knit community, these men are our friends, uncles, husbands, brothers, and sons, who prove their dedication to serve the community every day.

Will Love Triumph Over Family Expectations?

In the fictional town of Safe Haven, Fire Station 81 contains men of equal caliber and commitment within the community. Sons are expected to follow in their father’s footsteps.

Some sons fully embrace such a commitment.

But others—

GROOMED TO UPHOLD TRADITION

Safe Haven Fire Cadet Garrett Parker has been groomed to be a firefighter just like the four generations of Parker men before him. Fighting fires is in his blood and he’s bound by a death-bed promise to his father to uphold family tradition.

Crowned For Self-Sacrifice

But Maggie Pritchard, Garrett’s best friend and reigning Miss Safe Haven, is the only one who realizes his secret fear of confined spaces threatens his ability to become a fire fighter, as well as keeps him from learning there’s more to life than riding on other’s expectations.

Will Best Friends Sacrifice Tradition To Find Happily Ever After?

When Maggie partners with Garrett in the homecoming pageant dance competition, will the pair rise and face their greatest fear of disappointing others in time to find their happily ever after?

To read Garrett and Maggie’s story and find out if they achieve their HEA, I’m offering A Promise Worth Honoring for FREE today, just follow the link http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HBX6XD2.

Want to have a chance at winning eBook copies of novellas 1 and 2 in the Promises Collection? Answer the question below in the comments.

Have you ever witnessed or experienced Heroitis? Was he a fireman, police officer, other? Please share your symptoms…

THE BIG PRIZE: Interested in entering a chance to win a $25 Gift Card to Amazon? Go to www.cyndifaria.com to learn more.

We’re loading up the kids and heading to Hot Springs this morning because, at last, we have time to catch a showing of the latest Thor. So this will be quick!

F/f fun isn’t to everyone’s taste, I understand this, but I have a story in this collection about a very happily married woman whose husband very generously allows his wife to have a sexy adventure with the boss’s wife. So you’ll get snippets of the m/f along with, I hope, a funny bit of f/f play.

Post a comment today and you’ll be entered to win a free download of this collection! 

Single-sex liaisons that make straight women curious and drive men wild. Including original fiction from Delilah Devlin, Valerie Grey, Primula Bond, Elizabeth Coldwell and Chrissie Bentley.

Sapphic love has proven to be one of the most enduring forms of erotic pleasure since the first frolicking nymphs were painted upon the side of amphorae. But the secret love of women, without male participation, will never be old hat, because there will always be something deliciously forbidden and titillatingly taboo about the seductions, indiscretions and trysts of one woman with another. And Mischief wouldn’t be a leading publisher of erotica if it didn’t explore, update and let loose these very special feminine lusts of one girl for another.

From “MARMALADE” in GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS

Dressed in a silk robe I’d found on a hook behind the bathroom door, I sat at the breakfast table with Tess. We waved through the window at the men as they climbed into Bob’s Beemer. The men smiled. Greg gave a waggle of his eyebrows, and then they were gone.

When my gaze returned to her, she smiled like the Cheshire cat. “This is nice,” she said peering at me over the rim of her tea cup. “Just us girls. How ever will we entertain ourselves?”

I bit the corner of my lip, a blush beginning to heat my cheeks because she looked like a movie star, and her robe had parted, revealing a deep, luscious décolletage. I had a weakness for lovely bosoms, something Greg indulged with the porno flicks he brought home, featuring generously endowed women.

Tess set her cup in her saucer and leaned over the table. “Do you mind doing something for me?”

My glance darted up from her chest. Since Greg had been so adamant about his suspicions, I already had an inkling what would happen this day. I nodded, hoping my husband hadn’t been dead wrong. “What do you have in mind, Tess?” I asked, keeping my expression open and innocent.

Her lush mouth pursed. “I thought we might get to know each other. You’re really very lovely. So petite. I couldn’t help noticing. Do you mind opening your robe, my dear. I’ve been dying to see your breasts.”

I cleared my throat. “My breasts. You want to see them?”

“Yes, dear. Now.”

My nipples tingled, beginning to slowly ripen. “Um, is my husband’s job at risk?” I asked, my voice small and breathy. I glanced up from beneath my eyelashes, letting her know this was part of the game, something that pleased me, pretending reluctance because I wanted my sexual partner to be in charge.

Her mouth twitched then flattened. Her chin rose to a haughty angle. “You don’t have to do a thing, my dear. However, you should know that when I’m pleased, so is Bob.”

“Oh,” I sank my teeth into my lower lip and let my gaze slide away. Then holding my breath, I leaned back in my seat and eased aside the lapels of the floral silk robe, one side at a time, holding the belt closed to preclude a view of anything farther south. The lapels framed my breasts. “They’re small,” I said, feeling like I should apologize.

“Your nipples aren’t.” She rose in her seat and reached across to tug on a lengthening stem.

I hadn’t expected her to be quite that bold. I drew in a deep, jagged breath. Arousal bloomed, dampening my pussy and likely leaving a wet spot beneath me. By her hard challenging stare, I didn’t think she’d mind.

Her fingertips tightened painfully on my nipple, and she pulled, drawing me off my chair and around the table until I bent over her, breasts level with her mouth. She turned her seat to face me, then leaned forward and tongued the other nipple which already protruded.

Everything was happening so fast, all I could do was react. All thoughts of how I must look or sound flew out of my head. I gasped and whimpered as she twisted the one nipple and lavished its twin with succulent tugs and wicked flicks. My nipples drew tighter, dimpling, the tips elongating. Glancing down, I loved the way her mouth sucked on one of them like a straw, drawing so hard I felt the pull all the way to my cunt. I grasped the arms of her chair and arched my back to thrust my breasts closer, mashing the one she suckled against her face.

Her chuckle was muffled and dry. When she pulled back, she raised a brow. “It’s quite warm in here. You don’t really need that robe, do you?” she said, pinching both my nipples hard.

I glanced out the window, at the long manicured lawn and the lakeshore that rimmed the edge. There wasn’t a soul around to see me as I eagerly shimmied out of the robe, letting it puddle on the floor behind me. I clasped my hands in front of my pussy, assuming a modest stance.

Her gaze raked my body, lingering on my pussy before coming back to my face. “You’re pretty. I can see why Greg dotes. Do you lead him around by your pretty cunt?”

I was shocked by her words, but not disgusted. Pleasure melted from inside me, glazing my inner thighs. “I like him taking the lead,” I said softly, then even softer still, I added, “I like it even better when he forces me to do…things.”

She nodded crisply and let go of my tit. Her back stiffened as she faced forward again, pushed her dishes away, then tapped the table top in front of her. “Lie on the table, legs spread in front of me. I like a little marmalade on my muffin.”

Dazed by the hard, commanding note in her voice, I found myself backing up to the table, giving a little hop that jiggled my buttocks. Then I lifted my legs and scooted toward her.

Centered, I peered at her set expression through my parted legs and placed my feet on her chair’s armrests. Her features remained neutral, her eyes narrowed. Not until I was staring at the ceiling did I realize how eager I was, how completely and deliciously she dominated me.

Cool gel landed on my mound, and I glanced down to where she spooned apple jelly onto my pussy—two large spoonfuls, which she proceeded to distribute with her long, tapered fingers.

Sticky jelly cooled my swelling outer lips.

“I like that it’s bare,” she said, her voice uninflected. Then she bent and stuck out her tongue to lick at the mess she’d made. “I love jam on a hot, toasted muffin.”

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a pair of pretty handmade (by me!) ankh earrings I’ll gift to one person tomorrow! If you posted a comment on every day of my release countdown blogs, you’ll have several chances to win them!

If you’ve pre-ordered your print copy of Crescent Moon, it will ship today! I hope you enjoy it! I’m sharing a sexy scene from the book with you. There’s so much packed into this story, I wish I could snippet every little thing. There’s magic and monsters, gods and possessions, cop drama and sexiness… The kind of story I love to read. That’s exactly what I wrote. Oh, and there are mummies!

From ancient Egypt to present-day New Orleans, a woman of exceptional strength is called to protect against an unspeakable evil…and to experience an unforgettable seduction…

Justin Henry Boucher stayed in the shower so long Khepri knew he was avoiding her. The thought was disappointing. With so little experience deciphering sensual clues, she’d obviously read him wrong. He considered her a responsibility. Someone to keep safe. Perhaps someone he wanted to keep close because he didn’t trust her. That was all.

So when the water ceased trickling behind the closed bathroom door, she turned on her side, giving him her back to make the situation easier, and to keep her disappointment hidden should he glimpse her before extinguishing the light. She held her breath as he entered the room.

Not looking fed her imagination and made her heart race. Would he be naked? Or would he be wearing sleeping clothes, like the pajamas Denise had given her? Although sleeveless and short and made of an airy, stretchy cotton, the garment was still restrictive. She preferred sleeping in the nude. Something she didn’t think her grumpy protector would approve.

The bathroom light went out. Footsteps padded nearer…and then paused beside the bed.

She breathed deeply, letting the sound fill the silence and hoped he was fooled. Would he choose the bed as he had reluctantly promised? Or would he leave her for the uncomfortable couch too short to accommodate his tall frame?

The bed dipped and she smiled, relief making her feel lighter. Even if he was here under duress, she needed him close by. Someone solid and real, warm and breathing. Someone who tethered her to this place and this time. As he settled, shifting this way and that, she almost resented the wide, soft mattress because they could both sleep comfortably and never touch, which was his apparent goal since he never scooted nearer.

Truth be told, she should be grateful he didn’t want to press his attentions. Her willpower was at low ebb. However, she craved contact—just the warmth of his chest beneath her cheek would do. That would be enough to make her feel safe, enough to let her relax and rest, if not sleep. No, she wasn’t ready to close her eyes. Her heartbeat trembled and raced again at the thought of the last time she’d lost herself to darkness.

After a drawn-out moment, she turned, carefully rolling to her back and then her other side, her gaze finding the outline of his large torso in the darkness.

“Go to sleep,” he growled.

At his testiness, a smile tugged at her mouth. The texture of his voice was rasping, almost physical in the way it caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. “I can’t.” She bit her bottom lip, then gave into the impulse. She edged closer. Read the rest of this entry »

I finished unpacking from my trip. Laundry’s done–that’s the worst, right? All the work you have to do after a trip. I shouldn’t complain. I had a vacation. 🙂

I promised prizes from last week’s Texas Surrender countdown, and I have winners to announce! All the winners may choose one download from among my Triple Horn Brand stories. And here are the names:

Michelle Willms (Nov. 30)
Enikö (Dec. 1)
Sarah DeShields-Bass (Dec. 2)
Jamie L (Dec. 3)

So back to Crescent Moon…The book releases in print on Tuesday. Yesterday, you briefly met Khepri, The God’s Wife. The opening chapters describe her frightening journey that lands her wrapped as a mummy in Ancient Egypt. In today’s excerpt, you will see the scene where Juste and Khepri first meet. I promise, I’ll get to the sexy tomorrow.

In the meantime, you get a taste of Juste’s bad attitude, but hints of his true, heroic nature shining through. Juste has suffered a demotion, lost a close personal friend, and he’s just going through the motions with a new partner he doesn’t trust or like. And he’s no longer working homicide and resents the hell out of the museum robbery investigation. He’s hunting missing mummies? He really could give a rat’s ass less, until something happens that piques his interest. Enjoy! 

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a pair of pretty ankh earrings I’ll gift to one person after Tuesday’s release. If you post a comment on every day, including Tuesday, you’ll have several chances to win them!

From ancient Egypt to present-day New Orleans, a woman of exceptional strength is called to protect against an unspeakable evil…and to experience an unforgettable seduction.

Khepri still isn’t used to being The God’s Wife. The daughter of a common farmer, she’s more comfortable being friends with servants than employing a whole team of them. Being the wife of Amun affords her luxuries she only dreamed of, but her dreams are not always a haven…they are also filled with demons. Lately she’s had doubts about the role she’s been thrust into. She’s had yearnings for another sort of life, one where she’s loved intimately, rather than only adored from afar.

When a powerful man lures her away from her temple, she’s thrilled at the chance for an adventure. Her adventure quickly becomes a nightmare when the handsome vizier mummifies her alive. Pure of heart and body, she’s the warrior he foresees will battle a demonic pharaoh if ever he awakens. Khepri’s sure he’s insane, until she awakens in a distant future. Alone and needing a guide in this strange and garish new world, she turns to the troubled man who set her free…

When New Orleans police detective Justin Henry Boucher is called to the Garden Museum to investigate stolen Egyptian artifacts, it’s not exactly the adrenaline rush he used to get working a homicide. But with a reprimand on his record and a sorrow he can’t shake, he will take what he can get – as long as he can keep his badge. What he doesn’t count on is having to keep his cool when he finds one of the priceless artifacts—a golden-skinned goddess wrapped in fabric like a mummy, left to die and needing his help. She’s a mystery he’s determined to unravel. She might also be the cure for his lonely heart.

When Juste returned to the museum, the sky was darkening with clouds. It looked like rain would soon fall, and from the forecast, the storm might produce some flooding. He hoped like hell they could wrap up soon so he wouldn’t spend the night there.

Inside the door, he donned latex gloves. The crime techs were still in the warehouse. One was on a ladder dusting the camera in the corner for prints. Good idea. He looked around for his partner.

Mikey stood beside a crate with a clipboard while museum workers carefully swept away straw before pulling out bubble-wrapped artifacts. His partner gave him a nod. “With the storm comin’ in, I told the two guards we’d see ’em here in the mornin’.”

Juste grunted, irritated he’d made that call. The sooner they wrapped this one up, the better.

Mikey lifted his shoulders. “It’s mummies, not shooters,” he muttered under his breath.

Not liking the reminder he wasn’t in homicide anymore and that robbery investigations didn’t proceed with the same urgency, Juste smothered a curse. “I’m gonna take a look around the back.”

Mikey gave him another nod and then returned his attention to the items. By the look of all the empty crates, they were nearing the end of the inventory anyway.

Juste felt a moment’s guilt for leaving Mikey with the bulk of the tedious work, but only a moment’s. He scanned the room, found Dorman and Haddara sitting beside the white table, talking quietly.

Because he wasn’t ready to make nice with either man, Juste strode deeper into the storage area, away from the activity, through crates and metal racks where less important items, or perhaps ones that were rotated in and out of the museum’s displays, were stored. The lighting was poor and so far from the faded daylight spilling through the cargo bay door that he withdrew a small flashlight from his jacket pocket and flicked it on.

Toward the very back, he found rolled-up rugs and emptied boxes. And a crate nearly buried in refuse. A crate that didn’t look to be nearly as dusty as everything else around it. By the painted arrows on the plywood, the box sat on its side, the lid facing him.

Juste glanced around, but no one was watching. He gently knocked on the box and listened to the sound. By the dull, muffled rap, he knew the crate wasn’t empty. Curious, his belly knotting in the way it always did when he had a hunch, he gripped the nailed face of the crate and tugged.

There weren’t enough nails to keep the crate closed. The lid gave slightly beneath the second tug. And then he heard a sound. A soft mewling cry. His heart stopped, and then thudded dully against his chest.

He leaned close pressing his ear against the lid and listened again.

The noise came from inside the box. Read the rest of this entry »

For those of you who love your full-length novels in a version you can hold in your hands and fan those pages, Crescent Moon releases in its print version on December 10th—this Tuesday!

And for those of you who gave it a skip because it was originally a serialized (delivered by installment) book, now you can read it as it was intended to be read—as one big, fast-paced book, full of energy, mysticism, and smoldering sensuality. Yes, it’s a strange book. Who writes about mummies and ancient Egypt? Who writes about the Land of the Dead? I do. I have a fascination with the underworld, something I visited in the last Dark Realm story, Darkness Captured. Yes, that one was based more on Sumerian lore, but Sumerian and Egyptian, as well as Christian lore, is inextricably linked. I studied Coffin Texts to learn about Egypt’s mythology and braided it in with a lot of what ifs.

What if a woman from the past is mummified, and then resurrected in present time? Is she human? Is she a goddess? And then I discovered the story about the oracle at Karnak, The God’s Wife, and my story wrote itself. And where better for her to awaken than in New Orleans where a local detective who is going through his own crisis of faith finds her…

Here’s a snippet. Hope you enjoy. I’d love to hear your thoughts when you’ve read the story. This book was one of those “stories of the heart” writers love to share. 

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a pair of pretty ankh earrings I’ll gift to one person on Tuesday. If you post a comment on every day, including Tuesday’s release, you’ll have several chances to win them!

CRESCENT MOON

From ancient Egypt to present-day New Orleans, a woman of exceptional strength is called to protect against an unspeakable evil…and to experience an unforgettable seduction.

Khepri still isn’t used to being The God’s Wife. The daughter of a common farmer, she’s more comfortable being friends with servants than employing a whole team of them. Being the wife of Amun affords her luxuries she only dreamed of, but her dreams are not always a haven…they are also filled with demons. Lately she’s had doubts about the role she’s been thrust into. She’s had yearnings for another sort of life, one where she’s loved intimately, rather than only adored from afar.

When a powerful man lures her away from her temple, she’s thrilled at the chance for an adventure. Her adventure quickly becomes a nightmare when the handsome vizier mummifies her alive. Pure of heart and body, she’s the warrior he foresees will battle a demonic pharaoh if ever he awakens. Khepri’s sure he’s insane, until she awakens in a distant future. Alone and needing a guide in this strange and garish new world, she turns to the troubled man who set her free…

When New Orleans police detective Justin Henry Boucher is called to the Garden Museum to investigate stolen Egyptian artifacts, it’s not exactly the adrenaline rush he used to get working a homicide. But with a reprimand on his record and a sorrow he can’t shake, he will take what he can get – as long as he can keep his badge. What he doesn’t count on is having to keep his cool when he finds one of the priceless artifacts—a golden-skinned goddess wrapped in fabric like a mummy, left to die and needing his help. She’s a mystery he’s determined to unravel. She might also be the cure for his lonely heart.

One last time, her mind drifted, peacefully content…no shadows or disquiet to disturb her…allowing her to separate the parts of herself, first body from spirit…and then the mournful, dying part of her soul to dwell forever in the pit, while what remained, the part that would be born again, floated upward on golden wings.

Her sprit ba left her mortal shell and spread its wings, flying through the small bright hole in the ceiling, leaving behind her swaddled human form, which lay on a bare wooden bench. One, two, three strong surges of her fluttering wings and she flew toward the sun, free at last and feeling grateful to her husband for his generous gift. Her wings caught an updraft and she held them still, floating on the wind, the glorious waning sun warming her back.

Her spirit flew above white limestone cliffs and past a deep quarry littered with enormous blocks of carved stone. A sudden gust riffled through her feathers, forcing her to fly west, high above a barren valley.

But at last, her ba tired, circling downward, searching for the great river to lead her home. But no familiar white-washed city dwellings, no temple walls lay below. No fields of cotton and wheat.

Confused, she made her way back to the dismal pit. Not wanting to enter, she flitted around the opening, feeling weary and afraid.

Something dark awaited her. Some horror in the shadows.

And then she spotted the man with the dark, watchful gaze standing beneath the opening, his arms outspread to catch her… Read the rest of this entry »

If the boat hasn’t sunk and the toilets continue to flush, we’ll be basking in the sun, heading down to Cozumel, Mexico for the last leg of our short cruise! Don’t hate me. I’m thinking about you! Today is the official release date for TEXAS SURRENDER. I hope the glimpses I’ve given you of the four novellas that make up this fat anthology have tempted you to head straight to Amazon. I’ll be back online sometime Friday. See you then!

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a free download from another Western series, the Triple Horn Brand books!

This snippet is from the last novella in the collection, Two Wild for Teacher…

“Ms. Devlin’s writing is so well done that the experience was seamless. I will definitely be looking for more of Ms. Devlin’s books for my ‘keeper shelf’… TWO WILD FOR TEACHER is highly recommended reading for a quick escape.”
5 Stars and Book of the Month, Long and Short Reviews

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.

Sam Logan couldn’t sleep. He had one last chore to take care of. One he’d been putting off. No time like now to get ’er done.

He walked softly on bare feet down the long hallway, past the master bedroom he’d given up when Johnny married Ellie and moved both his new wife and his brother Killian into the large room to share it. He shook his head, a glimmer of a smile tugging at his mouth. Sounds that hadn’t been heard in this old house in over three long years echoed up and down the hallway.

Sexy sounds—happy sighs and laughter, slick slaps, an occasional yelp from Ellie. He could only imagine what his two oldest boys were doing to the girl. But they all seemed happy with the arrangement and both men were gaga for Mean Ellie Harker. Who would have thought one simple pronouncement would produce such lightning-fast results?

It’s time you boys found yerselves a wife.

That’s all it had taken. Sam had disappeared for a long weekend to attend a cattle auction and give them time to think about what he’d said, what was missing from all their lives, only to return and find all four men looking as though they’d been wrung through a wringer and put up wet.

His sons hadn’t told him everything, but he’d heard the rumors—from Ole Win at the diner who’d witnessed how the oldest two had swarmed Ellie like bees around a hive, and then from Wade Luckadoo whose daughter had witnessed Ellie’s kidnapping by the twins, but for some inexplicable reason hadn’t called the sheriff.

So they hadn’t wooed Ellie in a traditional way. Didn’t much matter to Sam. A pretty woman stood in the kitchen every morning, a happy smile on her face, and all the boys had perked up, falling over themselves to please her.

These days, meals were an event. Ellie had been running the town’s only diner and knew how to cook a mean chili, sear steaks to perfection and bake glorious pies.

The pies had become a bit of a joke in the house over the last month.

Ellie had figured out right off that Johnny loved apple pie. However, Killian wouldn’t commit, sampling the varieties she lined up on the counter every Sunday and sighing, but never telling her which one was his favorite.

Sam thought he knew why.

Killian wasn’t sure about his place in Ellie’s heart. She’d melted first for Johnny, but had accepted Killian in her bed too, and even told him often that she loved him. Killian only half believed her, and given his upbringing, living in a house with two people who’d hated each other’s guts and whose anger had spilled over onto him, Sam understood why Killian had doubts anyone could love him.

Ellie’s unending search for the perfect pie to please Killian was her way of proving she loved him. From the way his second adopted son beamed each time Ellie introduced a new set to sample, Sam didn’t think Killian would ever tell her which pie he loved most.

Pie was taking on mystical properties, a true elixir of love in every bite. And pie was what the twins, the youngest of his brood, huddled over now. Read the rest of this entry »