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Flashback: Rules of Engagement (Contest)
Saturday, March 26th, 2016

UPDATE: The winner is…Armenia!

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What’s sexier than a cowboy? How about SEAL who’s also a cowboy? How about a SEAL/Cowboy who also doesn’t give up on love? I had fun writing this story about a woman wooed by her high school sweetheart relentlessly over the years of their separation—due to her stubbornness and his many tours of duty. In the end, what woman could resist such a heady combination?

Comment for a chance to win your choice of one of my Lone Star Lovers books! 

Rules of Engagement

Rules of EngagementCallie Murphy had never been one to moon over a man. Fairytale romances were best left to novels. After all, she’d seen first-hand how transitory love could be after watching her mother drift in and out of three marriages, only to be left disappointed when “true love” faded. However, the video Callie watched for the thousandth time stirred a wistfulness inside that left her feeling restless and thinking about what might have been.

Just the sight of that warm, steady gaze enveloped her in warmth. The deep timbre of his voice as he sang raised the fine hairs on her arms and caused her nipples to prickle, because she remembered that same voice murmuring in her ear in the darkness.

Knowing she’d never get his approval for security’s sake, she’d snuck this recording of their Skype session using a plug-in installed on her computer because she’d wanted something of him to linger after they’d said their goodbyes. This recording been made before their final breakup. Now, watching and listening to him was a form of self-torture. Wearing desert camouflage pants and a brown tee stretching across a well-muscled chest, his dark hair a little shaggy and his beard scruffy, he was all man. All complication. Those piercing blue eyes stared into the camera at her, steady and determined, and Callie couldn’t help the tears welling in her eyes.

Prickles of dismay swept over her as she imagined some other woman, someone not her, on the receiving end of one of his calls, being serenaded with that husky, smooth-as-silk voice. The last time he’d proposed, she’d been firm, making it clear she had no interest in leaving behind the life she’d built in Two Mule, Texas while he was set on a career in the Navy. Rightfully, he should have moved on. No one here in Two Mule would ever fault him. No one really understood why she kept refusing him, but then they hadn’t walked in her shoes through her childhood.

Her mother had followed that “broken road,” uprooting Callie three times, from the friends she’d made, from the roots she’d tried so desperately to sink deep into every place she’d lived. She’d never make that same mistake. Love faded, turned bitter and dark. When love ended, good people drifted apart, or worse, struck out at each other. She’d lived it, first-hand.

So when Derek had stood on her doorstep that last day before heading back to Little Creek, where no doubt his team would be deployed on more dangerous secret missions in the Middle East, Africa, or whatever foreign hellhole the powers that be scrambled a SEAL team for, she’d shut the door on everything he’d offered, despite the fact he’d been sincere—and despite the fact her own heart had twisted inside her chest at the disappointment darkening his eyes.

Watching the video now, him seated on a narrow cot strumming a guitar while he sang about roads leading him straight to some other woman, Callie couldn’t help sniffling. He’d known even before that last proposal that she’d say no. And yet, here he’d been, reaching out to her, letting her see inside his heart as he strummed out his pain.

Watching him as he’d given her a smile, and then sat back to pull his guitar across his legs, she remembered everything she’d felt—nostalgia for their long-shared past, irritation he’d never give up, and joy, deep inside, that his love had never waned, because she was selfish like that. Although she’d been unwilling to hitch her star along with his, she’d depended on his love. Read the rest of this entry »

Flashback: Laying Down the Law (Contest)
Saturday, January 3rd, 2015

UPDATE: The winner (selected by a random number generator) of the free
download of Laying Down the Law is…Jen M!

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Happy New Year!

Yeah, getting tired of hearing that already? I still can’t believe it’s 2015. Or that it marks the 15th anniversary of the start of my writing career. In January 2000, as part of my new century resolutions, I decided it was time to become the person I wanted to be when I grew up—a writer. My sister, Elle James, and I entered the fray together, and thankfully, we’ve both succeeded and we’re both still writing! So there is magic in making those big dream kind of resolutions!

One of this year’s resolutions is to continue what I think is something you all enjoy—hosting new and popular authors on my blog so that you have a chance to meet them and see the fabulous stories they are bringing you. Also, I will give you plenty of encouragement to come back again and again, to this blog, by not only offering great guests, but also frequent chances to win some great prizes.

And if you don’t want to miss those opportunities to score a prize or meet a new author, be sure to subscribe to my blog. Scroll down this page, looking to the left-hand column until you see, “Subscribe to Blog via Email.” It’s as easy as that!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered
to win a free copy of the story below!

Oh, and one last thing before I share a fun excerpt from my favorite Triple Horn Brand novella—I’ll be sending out a newsletter soon, filled with goodies you won’t want to miss. So, if you’re not already signed up, here’s the link: Newsletter Signup.

Laying Down the Law

Laying Down The Law

“With amazing suspense, and hot, dominant lovin’ this cowboy and his high school sweetheart take the reader on an amazing emotional journey. Mixed with a bit of humor, sizzling bedroom scenes, and cowboys that steal your heart, Ms. Devlin has created a beyond 5 Book worthy start of an incredible new series. I am absolutely dying to know what happens in the next Triplehorn story!… 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
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.”

She glanced over her shoulder, not knowing if she’d heard him right, but that same hard challenge he’d issued when he’d demanded the kiss was stamped all over his granite features.

She knew she ought to ignore him and lock herself into the bathroom to dress and gather her scattered wits, but the underlying tension riding the edge of his jaw excited her.

Colt had never been this dominating…except when they had sex. She’d loved it then. Her body seemed to crave it now. Heat bloomed again, winding around her core. A delicious little thrill accelerated her heartbeats.

Without a saying a word, she walked back to the bed and tossed down the clothing. Then keeping her gaze glued to his, she slowly untied the belt and let the robe fall open. With a sexy shrug, she let it slide off her shoulders and pool behind her on the floor.

Colt blinked first. His gaze trailed downward. His throat worked around a tense swallow, and Zuri couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. He might think he was in charge, but she knew better. Colt liked what he saw.

His quickening breaths were the first clue. The curving of his fists the second. When he opened his stance, just a few inches, she nearly crowed.

Reaching for the cotton pants, she wished she had something sexier to slide inside, then wondered if she’d lost her good sense to think that way. She had enough problems on her plate. But how could she dress and prevent him seeing what this was doing to her? Bending and opening her legs to step into the sweatpants made her feel vulnerable, exposed in a way that just standing there naked hadn’t. “I don’t understand you, or why you’re doin’ this.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I guess that’s true. It’s been a long time.”

“You didn’t know me then.”

She pulled the pants upward, over the curve of her bottom, feeling a little less off-center now that her lower half was hidden from his view. The waist of the pants settled on her hips and she rolled the band to gather up the excess fabric. “Guess that’ll have to do,” she muttered.

As she dragged the T-shirt over her head, she reminded herself why she was here. Definitely not to play games with her ex-boyfriend. She needed a safe place to stay. And she needed to keep Colt clueless until she had a chance to find her car and get rid of the damning evidence before the police found it. Her story might sound a little more believable then.

When she’d pulled the fabric down, fully covering her body, only then did she raise her glance to Colt’s again.

His brows pulled together. “Gonna tell me what’s going on? Why you’re here?”

“I’m a little hungry,” she said, knowing her attempt to stall was completely transparent. “I don’t suppose I could eat first?”

Colt dropped his fists and stepped closer, forcing her chin higher to hold his steady gaze. “If you’re in trouble…”

What? He’d help? She didn’t think so. Colt appeared to be the same inflexible cowboy. He’d always judged a person’s actions as either black or white, right or wrong. No interesting muddying of the colors accepted. She’d forgotten that about him.

She pondered telling him part of the tale, but worried he’d use what he learned to play with her some more. He seemed to like that fact he held the reins.

Zuri licked her lips. “I need a place to stay. Just for a little while.”

His gray eyes, once so warm and open, narrowed. A muscle flexed alongside his jaw.

She waited him out, knowing he wasn’t satisfied with her response. The longer the moment stretched between them, the more uncomfortable she grew. Still holding his steady gaze, she shifted her bare feet, supremely conscious of the fact she wasn’t wearing a stitch of underwear and that his clothing, while freshly laundered, still carried the hint of his unique scent. She was at his mercy. Completely.

Colt inhaled deeply, and then issued a soft, masculine grunt. He reached down and closed his hand around hers, then tugged her closer to the bed. He sat on the edge, staring at their hands before he looked up. “If you stay…you’ll sleep here,” he said, his voice tense and ragged.

Zuri wet her lips with her tongue because her mouth had suddenly gone dry. What he proposed sounded both so…wrong, yet incredibly tempting. She couldn’t get words past her tightening throat. If she could have, she didn’t know whether she would have told him to go to hell or given him a breathless yes. Instead, she squeezed his fingers.

So many thoughts swirled in her mind. Their past, her impossibly complicated present. It sounded so simple. She’d sleep beside him. Make love with him. Maybe she’d even find out that her memories of their being together were painted in rosy hues because she’d been younger, and he’d been her first.

Perhaps in exchange he’d give her clothes and money so that she could make a graceful exit.

Zuri crowded closer to his knees, tilting her chin.

Colt’s lips curved slightly at the corners, and although his gaze remained narrow, he scooted back.

She climbed over his lap, facing him, her thighs sliding over the outside of his, not saying a word, following her instincts although they’d led her down treacherous paths before. She slipped her hand alongside his neck, felt the heavy thrum of his pulse and bent down, her mouth hovering above his. “Think you can keep this uncomplicated, cowboy?”

A deep, throaty groan seeped between his lips, and she leaned into him, settling over the ridge throbbing beneath the placket of his jeans. She could do this. She could take what she wanted from him without losing her heart again. It was just sex. Just an arrangement for shelter, for time.

She had no illusions that she’d be sought by the law and soon. Her job would report her missing. The police would check her apartment and her background. But Detective David Satterly might want her involvement kept under wraps until he’d gotten to her…that might work to her advantage.

As Colt’s arms closed around her back, he lowered himself to the bed and brought her with him.

Sighing, she let her worries slide away. For now, she’d enjoy this little interlude. Accept the pleasure she knew he could deliver. She was older, had learned a few things about how to keep a relationship light. It was just sex.

But then he slid his hand beneath her shirt and scraped his callused palm upward to close around her bare breast. The sandpaper rasp of his thumb across her nipple lit a spark.

Their kiss turned instantly carnal, tongues stroking deeply, lips latching desperately together. Their bodies ground together, frustrated by the clothing separating them.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Ignore it,” she whispered.

Colt sighed. “Can’t. Gabe’ll just barge in. Have to explain it to him first.”

She sat, still straddling his hips. He slid his hand slowly from under her shirt and she climbed off. She turned her back to the door as Colt’s footsteps tapped across the bare wood.

Behind her, the brothers’ voices whispered too low to make out the words, but the rapidity of their exchange, short-bulleted bursts, told her Gabe wasn’t happy with her being here.

Keeping her back to them, she glanced into the dresser mirror and ran her fingers through her damp, tousled hair. Then her gaze fell on the jumbled items resting in a wooden tray. Keys, change. Silver gleamed. She stepped closer and plucked up a metal badge, Sheriff etched on its surface.

Zuri’s hand closed around it and the sharp edges dug into her skin. The one man she’d thought she might seek refuge with was the last she could trust with her secrets.

Flashback: Her Lance-Alot
Monday, March 1st, 2010

If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
for a free download of this anthology!

I’ll be away from my computer again today. There’s always an adventure in this house and yesterday’s involved the wood-burning furnace. I was adding a couple of logs to the fire, and bent to lift one of them, when a burst of flame, like something out of the movie Backdraft, flared out. I didn’t have time to move back, and dummy me, couldn’t even blink because it was beautiful. I felt and heard little sizzling crisps tumble onto my shoulders, saw my glasses fog. I took a step back and swiped my hair and face as quick as I could and when my hands came away from my hair, I was clutching tons of crispy bits. Yup, I burned my hair, singed my eyebrows and my eyelashes. I have very strange little damaged curls at the ends of most of my hair in the front so I am going to beg my hair dresser to fit me in. He might have to cut my hair very, very short. Bright side, at least that quick burst of flame didn’t burn my skin.

I’m sure I’ll have plenty to talk about after a visit with him. He’s my age, has a long gray ponytail and wears shorts no matter the weather. Love Nick to death, but he’s going to be laughing his ass off at me.

Anyway, this book was released in March 2007 and is part of the Seasons of Seduction anthology. The winner will get a download of the entire anthology. Good luck!

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

Newlywed Lady Margaret du Bary must find a way out of the marriage her king decreed. Lord Roland is far beneath the ideal knight she’s dreamed of — and she won’t have him! But how can she distract the brute from consummating their marriage until she can steal away from the keep and return to the convent that ejected her?

Lord Roland is very pleased with his mousy bride. Besides the lands and fine castle she brings, she’s pleasing to the eye and has a suitably demure demeanor. The only thorn in the ointment is he has no experience tupping a gentlewoman. Bedding his modest bride will prove a true test of this knight’s steel.

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

“Another flagon of ale!” The new lord of Beckwith Keep slammed his empty cup on the wooden table. A serving wench tripped in her haste to reach him, spilling more ale onto the table than into his hammered silver chalice. He ignored her dismay and planted his elbow in the puddle, tilting back his head to take a long draw of warm ale.

“Perhaps you should curb your thirst.”

Lord Roland Du Bary cast a baleful eye at his friend, Dougal Fitzhugh. “Why ever for?”

“The wedding night is still to come. Are you not afraid your ardor will flag?”

Roland licked the foam from the hairs that curved over his upper lip. “A little ale has never impeded me in bedsport. Not once have I failed to rouse my staff when the occasion called.” He cast a glance at his bride. The shy little miss had taken a seat further down the table. Her hair, neither blonde nor brown but all the pleasing shades of a pheasant’s tail feathers, hung in a long curtain to her hips. “Besides, my wife inspires me sufficiently.”

“Aye, you are a lucky man. You’ve a fine keep and lands—and a comely wife.”

His gaze still on his young bride, Roland replied, “She seems a pleasant mouse. Although methinks she tends to overimbibe. Her cheeks are quite flushed already.”

“Why say you she is a mouse?”

“She’s so timid, she has not once looked me in the eye.”

“Perhaps she is put off by your ill looks,” Dougal said with a laugh.

Disgruntled, Roland straightened his shoulders. “My looks haven’t a thing to do with it. My sword arm and my fame as a warrior are all she’s concerned with.”

“You only met the girl today. How do you know this?”

“Why, you heard her. When she greeted us at the steps of this keep, all she could say was, ‘You are Sir Roland Du Bary? The king’s knight?’ And she looked me up and down as though she could scarce believe her good fortune.”
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Watermelon Art…and a contest!
Tuesday, December 29th, 2009

My cruise buddy, Sasha White, and I are posting pictures with a theme today—something that made us smile on our cruise. Hers has to do with towel pets and mine is watermelon art. And we’re both running contests for signed books and a gift from the islands. So be sure to hit her site today too!

Here’s what you have to do to win a copy of To Serve and Protect: 1) Send an email to me privately, listing what you think each of these 11 works of art represents AND 2) post a comment somewhere on my blog. That simple. Oh and here’s my email address: DD’s Email

The morning after we left the islands for our long trip back to Newark we had a treat lined up in The Promenade. Watermelons had been carved and served as the centerpieces for a buffet lunch. I couldn’t resist taking pictures of every one of them. Good luck and don’t stress about getting them absolutely correct! Guesses count!

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Flashback: Kili's Ice Man from Alluring Tales–Awaken the Fantasy
Saturday, September 26th, 2009

Be sure to post a comment today to be in the running for a free signed copy of this book! And before I forget, let me name the winner of Wednesday’s free download of Uncovering Navarro. The winner is…Deidre!

Released in February 2007, Alluring Tales: Awaken the Fantasy was a collection of short novellas from seven ladies who have become very close friends over the years: Sylvia Day, Lisa Renee Jones, Cathryn Fox, Myla Jackson, Vivi Anna, Sasha White and myself.

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

What is your most wicked fantasy?
A television executive lets loose when her favorite heartthrob strides into her office — and gives her the ride of her life.

This one night stand may be too hot to handle for a newly single woman, but that won’t stop her from enjoying every delicious second.

When a mysterious package opens to reveal an oh-so-sexy, nearly naked man, these two have no choice but to hide out…for a good, long time.

A minister’s son harbors impure thoughts about a voluptuous stripper–and sets out to make his erotic dreams come true…

A big city cop discovers that once bitten is not twice shy after spending a tantalizing night with a beautiful vampire…

A sheltered young woman opens a mysterious locket–and is plunged into a legendary battle of good versus evil to set her imprisoned lover free…

A seductive warlock will not rest until the powerful temptress he lusts for is begging to be dominated…

Pleasure beckons and satisfaction is guaranteed in seven titillating stories of love that knows no boundaries. Surrender to the passion and follow your desires into unexplored realms of sensuous delights. Awaken the fantasy!

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

Kili sucked in a deep breath and blinked as her eyes adjusted to white, searing sunlight. Her first glance at her vacation setting sent her stomach plummeting. Where was the desert island with the horseshoe strip of pale sand and navy sea? Sure, heat radiated off the ground in suffocating waves, but where was the cabana boy in the Speedo?

Instead, an endless savannah stretched in front of her with tall, golden grass waving in the hot breeze and gnarled, stunted trees dotting the horizon. “What the hell?”

Stones skittered behind her and she spun to find a large, male figure standing on a rocky knoll. At least the program had gotten that much right. The Ice Man’s incredible, burly physique was nude except for a furry loincloth that draped from a slender cord at his waist, leaving the sides of his tanned hips and his massive, sleek thighs bare.

The breeze ruffled his pale hair as he strode toward her, his sharp gaze sweeping down her body, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

Kili’s heart thudded and her nipples tightened, the sensitive tips pressing into supple fabric. She glanced down and noted she too wore an animal’s skin, tanned and buttery-soft. The miniscule top barely covered her breasts and was knotted between them. Another soft garment draped around her hips, and the breeze licking up her thighs revealed she was totally nude underneath the crude clothing. “Now, that’s attention to detail,” she murmured. But if this was her fantasy, why weren’t her hips slimmer?
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Flashback: Arctic Dragon
Wednesday, September 16th, 2009

Be sure to post a comment today to be in the running for a download of this book!

Originally released in 2006, Arctic Dragon was my first fantasy tale and has since been released in print as part of the Royal Bondage anthology.

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5 Angels & Recommended Read from Fallen Angels Reviews: “…Delilah Devlin is an awesome author who knows how to get a reader’s attention and keep them coming back for more…Ms. Devlin has written a fantastic story that explodes right off the pages…”

Headstrong, and seeking a little respite from a suitor’s relentless wooing, Queen Larikke rides the arctic wind far beyond the bounds of Northland, only to have her horse bolt at a shot from a hunter’s gun. Her “rescuer” is a handsome, mysterious man who lives alone in the wilderness, his cabin filled with erotic images of women.

Rather than fearing her fate, Larikke sets out to seduce him, hoping for one last fling before she settles down to do her duty and wed. Thinking he was saving a life, Drake dragged a very strange woman home, stripped her, and warmed her by his fire. Now he finds his long, self-imposed isolation may have made her allure impossible for him to resist and that he’ll endanger her when he shares his special kiss.

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

A blanket of fresh powder muffled his footsteps. For a moment, the bitter cold wind died down. The stillness invited him deeper into the clearing. Something in the air alerted him, an intuition that was part of his true nature told him to wait.

Wind had blown snow against large tree trunks, forming deep banks where the tall green sentinels stood close together. Everywhere pure, pristine white dusted the tops of branches, cloaking them in rich, thick wonder. Precious sunlight peeked from behind a dark gray cloud and refracted like a billion tiny prisms on frozen crystals that gilded the uppermost layer of the snow.

His breaths seemed loud, intrusive and he concentrated on being quiet so that he didn’t disturb—not that anyone was would hear him this deep in the wilderness.

Rather, all was hushed, expectant. Quiet like he preferred now. Content at last with his own company.

The first few months had been the worst. The silence had nearly driven him nuts. Now, he barely noticed. Sounds other than voices, the hum of electricity or the roar of a passing engine were replaced with softer, more predictable ones—the rustle of pine needles as a breeze swept through outstretched branches, the resonant creaking when snow weighed the branches down. The rustle of animals as they scratched in the snow for food.

The voices inside his head had also faded. The strident ones that had called him a freak and the startled screams—well, they couldn’t reach him here.

If he missed the company of a woman—so be it. Other parts of his existence flourished in the solitude. Almost filling the aching void. The decision he’d made had been the right one. He’d spend the rest of his life—however long—alone.
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1 Day of Captive Souls
Monday, July 13th, 2009

No kidding this time, I have a winner—but you have to wait to see who until the end of this post!

So, I think you know quite a bit about the book by now. You know it’s sexy as HELL. You know the hero is a powerful gargoyle come to life at the touch of my gifted (or cursed, depending on your point of view) heroine.

Maybe you don’t know the kind of research I did for this story. Or that I have a love of mythology and folklore that feeds my imagination. In this case, I decided to visit old friends.

When I was a third grader and very bored with the pace of my schooling, I had a teacher whose bookshelf wasn’t limited to children’s books. Every day when I’d dashed through the reading lesson, she allowed me to take down her copy of Bullfinch’s Mythology, and I’d get lost inside fantastic tales about Pandora and her endless curiosity, proud Achilles and his fatal flaw, but especially, the original bad boy, Hades.

Even then, I’d read the story of his abduction of Persephone and wonder why the girl didn’t grow up and let go of her mother’s apron strings to appreciate her man’s single-minded devotion.

Yeah, I know. Can’t you just see a skinny, straggly-haired little blonde with her nose forever in that book? I hated moving up in grade because I had to leave my own special dog-earred copy of Bullfinch, but by then, I’d discovered the joys of the library and continued to feed my addiction.

So keep in mind when you read Stone’s Embrace that I had fun re-envisioning Hades and his Underworld.This won’t be the last you’ll see of him.

Here’s a little peek at mighty Hades…

Petra followed Octavius’s footsteps, through a long stone tunnel in unrelieved darkness, only the crunch of his feet on the uneven floor to guide her.

A reddish glow grew brighter at the end of the tunnel, welcoming them into a room that seemed crudely fashioned for a creature that was viewed as a god, perhaps even the Satan of Christian lore.

A large fire pit dominated the center of the room. Small boulders formed a ring around it with metal fittings in the ceiling above and sunk into rocks ringing the pit. It was a crude smelter of sorts, she guessed, from the number of implements resting in the hot fire.
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