Dreams are extremely important.
You can’t do it unless you imagine it.
~ George Lucas

Speaking of dreams, I had a doozy last night. And it feels familiar, like I’ve had it before.

I lived in a house in the very exclusive Dominion area in San Antonio, Texas. The house was huge with a pool just outside the door. I sat at a glass table eating breakfast and reading ads from the newspaper. Only these ads were “live” ads that talked and described the items on sale at a department store. I wondered aloud when they’d make ads interactive so I could ask useful questions like, “Would that TV fit in my entertainment system cabinet?” The Progressive woman looked up from her ad and said, “Well, have you measured the space?”

I have to put that in a book.

Yesterday, I got my butt in gear. I wrote nearly a chapter. All of it sex. And I really, really liked the sex I wrote. My hero’s a big dude with very commanding ways. *sigh* I’d like to finish the story today or tomorrow, but I can’t keep them in bed forever, so today’s likely to drag as I figure out what they’ll say to each other when they aren’t acting like bunnies.

First, I have to tell you about this dream I had last night. I dreamed I was a superhero. I still haven’t figured out what my superpower was, but I got a call on the bat phone to hightail it to a sleepy little Texas border town to take out The Black Widow. My sidekick went with me. He was tall, balding and had a pot belly. Yeah, we made quite a team, but for some reason that was part of our power. Everyone underestimated us.

The Black Widow and I were old archrivals and we recognized each other immediately when our glances met across a smoky cantina. (There was a little homoerotic tinge to this whole dream.) She looked like Natalie Whatshername from Sugarland. A tall, blonde, natural beauty, with whom I’m sure I would have wanted to be friends if she didn’t have a nasty habit of romancing a victim in a bar then sucking off his head. Not a sexual euphemism.

Anyway, we got into a huge battle where we threw tables and chairs at each other from across the room, then took the battle out into the street and demolished half the buildings there. Neither of us won an advantage, and when we got tired of beating on each other, we headed back to the cantina for a beer, my trusty sidekick complaining about his aching back all the while. When she rose to leave, she handed me her lighter and said, “Keep it. I’m quittin’ anyway.”

I smiled and thanked her, but as soon as she was out the door, I gingerly held up the lighter, walked out the back of the cantina, tossed it into the garbage bin and ducked to avoid the explosion. End of dream.

My report is very anticlimactic. And it looks very different from what I had planned last week, but unexpected things crept up all week. Not that I can talk about all of it just yet.

* I wrote class material for FFnP’s Logline, Premise, Query and Synopsis class which starts tomorrow.
* I spoke with my Berkley editor about edits she wants on the first Viking book, then received the file and started work on that.
* I received word that Four Sworn was accepted and is tentatively scheduled for release by Samhain in September.
* I wrote a synopsis for a Merry Kinkmas short story for Ellora’s Cave and shipped it to my editor, after conducting some rather thorough fetish research.
* I received some exciting news about a project for an epublisher, but can’t mention it yet.
* And I quick-plotted a short story for Cleis.

This week:
* I will plow through edits of Viking-1.
* I will complete planning for Viking-2 and start writing the sucker!
* I will begin work on my Cleis short story.
* And lastly, I hope to begin work on my next western for Samhain.

Have a Happy 4th! I’ll think about you while I’m here on the lake!

Strangest dream last night. I moved into a very large house with many rooms, that were more like individual apartments because they had their own baths and kitchenettes. And the furnishings were very elaborate junkware. You know, like collections of foot-tall, ceramic teapots made in the likenesses of the Taj Mahal and Neuschwanstein castle. The rooms exploded with color—turqouise walls, enameled dressers and pianos. The floors looked like kiln-fired ceramic tile and were pieced together designs of rice patty or wheat fields. Anyway, I arrived with my daughter and mother, and we fought over which rooms we should take. Since I was doing the buying I argued that I should have first choice, and I wanted the room with the largest desk covered in Japanese black lacquer with insets of mother-of-pearl. I lost the argument, but didn’t mind so much, all the rooms were great. But then the convention-goers arrived. Seems Sasha White booked my house for a reader’s convention, so my house was overrun with readers scrambling to claim beds and breaking pottery left and right. That’s when I woke up.

Well, the big accomplishment was finishing Beloved Captor (that name’s likely to change). I wrapped up the revisions, which seemed to take forever, and sent it to my editor. Send a little prayer up that she likes it. After that, nada, zippo, zero! But I don’t care. I couldn’t sit because I’d been doing so much of that in the revisions. I attended my Arkansas RWA chapter meeting yesterday, and now I finally feel recharged enough to plunge back in.

So, if anyone out there wants to sprint with me this week—not the kind where you need running shoes, the kind where you write like a madwoman for 45-minute sprints—I’m so there.

Thanks to everyone who provided me input regarding what you want to see in the next installment of Bad Moon Rising. I will take a look at them all and come back with a poll for you to cast your final version vote.

And the winner of the gift certificate, by random number generator is…tamibates! Tami—email me with the email addy you want the certificate sent to!

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

Did I mention that the Chantix worked and that I’ve been smoke-free for over a month now? Wish it were true for my dreams. Last night I had a nightmare. I found a cigarette on the ground, but didn’t have a lighter. The only thing I could find was a blowtorch, but I couldn’t get it close enough to my face to light the sucker. Gah!

Back to the book…

The Allure Authors are a group of my best writer friends. We produced two anthologies for Avon. This excerpt is from the second one, Alluring Tales 2: Hot Holiday Nights. This book was released in November 2008. My story, Indecent Exposure, is about a girl with a bad reputation for baring her assets in high school, who gets a second chance with her high school crush. Tell me whether you would have made the same choice as Harmony!

From the authors of the bestselling ALLURING TALES: AWAKEN THE FANTASY comes a new erotic romance anthology featuring seven super-sexy holiday-themed short stories. Together, the Allure Authors offer more than just steamy romances—they introduce readers to an erotic world full of limitless possibilities

The holidays are heating up — with seven wickedly sensual stories guaranteed to spice up those chilly winter nights!

A psychology student goes online hoping to live out her steamiest fantasy — and ends up on a hot mystery date with a wickedly imaginative stud who brings out her inner pole-dancer…

A determined lady comes home, burning for her girlhood crush — a sexy lawman who totes a big gun…

A creative ad man’s passion is aroused when he sees his buttoned-up coworker in a revealing new light — dressed in sizzling red satin on a giant billboard…

A professional dominatrix wishes upon a star, and her fantasy appears — an insatiable alpha male in biker boots who’s literally out of this world…

A tall, dark, handsome warlock finds himself obsessed with his “familiar” — a sleek and sexy cat-woman who turns out to be the purr-fect lover…

She was always hot for big brother’s best friend — and now her erotic dream is here in the taut and tempting flesh…

A pair of fugitive lovers finds themselves warm and toasty in a sultry Caribbean paradise — and ready for some red-hot fun in the sun…

Twelve years earlier…

Dalton McDonough, you don’t know it yet—hell, you don’t even know me—but one day your fine ass is gonna be mine!

A blush heated Harmony Wilkin’s cheeks at the crudeness of the thought, but there you had it. When it came to Dalton, all the rules she’d been taught about being a good girl flew out the window.

Lord, he was a temptation—an obsession she couldn’t shake. That she wasn’t alone in mooning over the handsome high school senior didn’t help one bit. There was something special about the strong curve of his jaw, the jut of his high cheekbones and the deep mysterious set of his brown eyes. Add those characteristics to the rest of the package—tall, lean frame and wavy dark hair—and every girl in a tri-county area between the age of five and ninety-five couldn’t help but sigh and wonder what it would be like to be the center of his undivided attention.

Only most girls didn’t do any more than that—sigh and wonder. Harmony, however, wasn’t the kind to leave matters to fate. Somehow, someday, Dalton would be hers. All she needed to move things along a little quicker was information. Being a studious sort, she’d decided that winning Dalton wasn’t any different than any other goal she’d achieved. She just needed to know more about him. Figure out his likes and dislikes.

Find the one thing that might spark his interest in her.

And studying up on Dalton meant she had to take a few risks, because what she needed to know couldn’t be found in any textbook or Cosmo magazine article. Which was why she was sneaking through the dark, risking her reputation and her parent’s trust. Then again, her parents probably wouldn’t care, they’d been shouting at each other so much lately.

Careful not to let the gate slam shut behind her, she crept silently into his backyard, skirting the flagstones surrounding the pool, keeping to the soft, manicured lawn to muffle her footfalls until she reached the French doors outside his bedroom.

Seeking the shadows hugging the side of his house, she hid behind the tall winterberry bush and peered inside. She brushed away the niggling guilt she felt for spying on the object of her affections. Suppressed the unease that any night now, someone would see her stealing out of her bedroom window. But a desperate longing filled Harmony with a sense of purpose that pretty much wiped out every lick o’ sense she’d inherited from her schoolteacher dad.

During the past week of her stealth campaign, she’d learned some pretty interesting things about the quiet, intensely private boy.

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

I had such a strange, strange dream last night. Okay, so my dreams are always a little whack. I had just moved to Washington State, near Seattle. I lived in a colorful cottage in a colorful subdivision with lush forest all around. My mother yelled that my friends were at the door. I had new friends, BFFs. And every one of them were 6-inch tall garden gnomes, each with special gifts. I can only remember two of the special gifts. One of the guys could grow himself to human size, which was a good thing since he was my boyfriend. One of the girls could see the future and she said the world was going to end unless I fixed it. I’m guessing at that point my subconscious said fixing the world was too much work because I woke up.

I pulled out my dream dictionary. From what I can figure out, dreaming about little people friends means that friends are becoming less important to me. That might be true at the moment since I’m on deadline and the book is consuming all my time. The fact the boyfriend could grow to give me sex meant that’s a little more important to me. Interesting.

Anyway, that’s not what I planned for the day. It’s another flashback and another chance for you to win! This story appeared in the Ellora’s Cavement: Jewels of the Nile, Volume 1 and was released March 2008.

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

5 Stars from Just Erotic Romance Reviews: “…Jewels of the Nile is definitely a keeper…Ms. Devlin’s MAKING THE MADAM was my favorite of the anthology, with a short fun story…The sex was written perfectly and was incredibly hot with some voyeurism thrown in…one of my favorite books this year…”

5 Fairies from Dark Angels Reviews: “…I could not get enough of this story and wished it went on forever…I was grinning from ear to ear…The erotic scenes in this story will make your body tingle and burn for more. What a wonderful way to spend on hour, reading away. You will crave more from Ms. Devlin.”

4 1/2 Lips from Two Lips Reviews: “…I still have to chuckle at how naïve Merry is. MAKING THE MADAM is a very short story, but not short on sex or emotions…This is such a lighthearted and entertaining read…I found all stories to be highly erotic page turners with strong characters and great settings.”

5 Angels from Fallen Angels Reviews: “…Ms. Devlin will take the readers on a ride on the wild side of the west. Merry and Nathan will have the readers in stitches as the story unfolds. The intense passion will have the readers screaming for more and grabbing lots of ice…”

Widow Merry Winslow heads west to claim an inheritance from an aunt she never really knew. She expects to take over the reins of her aunt’s emporium, but discovers the true nature of the business when she arrives — she’s inherited a saloon with a brothel above stairs! Rather than being dismayed, Merry’s intrigued and finds it the perfect way to shed the shackles of propriety that have hidden her true wild and impulsive nature. Only problem is, she needs someone to make her into a madam…

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

Merry Winslow balled her hands into fists and stomped down the dusty planked sidewalk, forgetting every lesson in decorum she’d ever learned at Miss Peabody’s Finishing School or in Homer Winslow’s parlor.

Her aunt’s attorney had taken one look at her black widow’s weeds and decided, without ever taking her true measure, she was completely unsuited to the rough life in Cranston, Colorado.

She’d noted his slow perusal of her beaded lace veil, the gold watch pinned to her bosom, the sheen of her fine bombazine dress and polished leather half boots—and the odious man immediately dismissed her as unworthy.

How could he have decided within two minutes of their meeting when her own husband hadn’t known until his mother pointed out all her faults?
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Psst! The winner of Thursday’s contest is at the bottom of this posting! ~DD

Talk about strange dreams. Last night, I dreamed I was friends with a gargoyle who looked like Ricky Martin and whose name was…yeah, Ricky. He came to see me every now and then because the only way he stayed human was if someone believed in him. So he brought his wife and two kids to visit. I rubbed his face (the magic part) and listened to his plans. His wife and he were studying for the CPA exam and planned to open a tax preparer’s shop called “Kim and Ricky’s Tax Preparation”.

Anyway, I don’t usually repeat the sneak peeks so close together, but I found out yesterday while I was cruising Ellora’s Cave’s “Coming Soon” page that Fun with Dick and Jayne will be released on February 17th! Mark your calendars!

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is a snippet from Jayne and Garrett’s first “alone” date. Too bad for you I cut it off before his best buddy Finn gets to play a little too…

The drive to the Italian restaurant seemed to take forever. Her flowery scent filled the car, made his nose and his dick twitch. All he could think about was running his tongue all over her curves to find every place she’d touched with her perfume.

Jayne flipped down the visor and gazed at herself in the mirror. “You must be wearing my lipstick.” She opened her small black bag and rummaged inside. Then she laughed.

“What is it?” he asked, darting a glance toward her lap.

Jayne raised a small silver object in her palm for him to see. “Richard left us a present.”

“What…” But he knew the second the words left his mouth. “A vibrator. Your boyfriend gave you a vibrator for our date?”

“Isn’t he sweet?”

“I’m assuming he intends you to use it.”

“We could always surprise him. Want me to put it inside you?”

His gaze swung toward her. Her smile reassured him she didn’t have designs on his ass, but the shiny metal egg did up the tension riding his body. “It’s mine to use however I want or you’re gonna pitch it out the window.”

“Fine by me,” she said, sounding breathless. “It’s all yours.”

He swung into the parking lot and drove to the back, halting beside a tall hedgerow. He turned to her and gave her a hard stare. “Before anyone sees. Get up on the seat on your knees.”

Jayne’s eyes shimmered with excitement, and she quickly turned away, shifting her knees onto the seat and bending toward the window. “Be quick. I don’t want anyone to see.”

“That worries you?”

“Someone other than you might see, and yeah, I don’t flash my vajayjay to the whole world.”
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According to The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Wicca and Witchcraft, December’s moon is the Oak or Long Night Moon. In some places, the moon holds reign because night time hours surpass daytime hours—and I know, that’s only if you’re in the Northern Hemisphere, but Idiot’s Guides aren’t likely to be read south of the equator, right? Okay, that kinda bothered me because “skeptic-logical me” came out to play.

My interpretation of what you’re supposed to do in December with all those hours of night? Fuck. A lot. And yeah, get things you’ve been promising yourself to do around the house done so you will be ready to start a bright shiny New Year.

Today, I probably won’t get a lot of writing done. I have to pick up those newly hemmed “booty jeans” from the tailor shop and get my nails done. And I have to start getting those guest blogs loaded so you’ll have a good reason to keep coming here while I’m gone.

I have to tell you about my dream. Last night, I was in Antonio Banderas’s arms. Antonio was a con man with a partner, and they were working a con in a bad part of New York. I went along while he played cards, mainly because I had a bad feeling and wouldn’t let him out of my sight. Well, someone drew a gun. The partner. And things went to hell. The game was happening in the back of a laundromat. The partner and Antonio put the other players into the washing machines to torture information out of them. Picture all those nude men with slick skin, wet hair and eyelashes, and suds sticking to their skin. I thought, damn I better not wake up now. But one of them drowned.

We had to run, change our names, and Antonio had to start a new con which involved essential oils for erotic purposes and which he demonstrated on me in front an audience. Can you imagine trying not to come when AB has slippery, oily fingers you-know-where? I wanted to cuss a blue streak when my electric blanket clicked and I woke up. Wonder what it all meant…