Bestselling Author Delilah Devlin
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Snippet Saturday: Midnight Rider (Contest)
Saturday, July 14th, 2012


Love BitesToday’s round of snippets is all about the bad boys. They’re sexy as sin and know it. They wade into danger with a flare. They tempt good girls into doing very naughty things. My favorite bad boy is Quentin. In this scene the heroine meets him, up close and personal. Enjoy!

Post a comment today, and you’ll be entered in a drawing for a free download of any of my backlisted Ellora’s Cave books!

“…congratulations to Ms. Devlin for creating a masterpiece. This story has all the elements that a Gold Star book has in it. The novel has intense suspense that was thrilling and delightful…”
~
Gold Star Award, Susan Holly, JERR

“… LOVE BITES is a delicious, emotional romp of a story, a tale that builds powerfully on the old, often-used love triangle and succeeds beautifully in creating something new and exciting.”
~
Ann Leveille, Sensual Romance

On the trail of a serial killer, vampire Quentin Albermarle is mistaken for the killer by a police special task force. Once the smoke clears, Quentin finds himself in a delicious position-atop one of the unit’s crack officers, Darcy Henry.

In need of Quentin’s access to the vampire sub-culture, the task force leadership invites Quentin to join the crime unit as a special advisor, much to the chagrin of the men in the unit, and especially, of Darcy.

A no-nonsense cop with no time for romance, Darcy suddenly finds herself embroiled in a steamy love triangle between her mortal partner, Joe, and the handsome vampire. Going from abstinence to wantonness, she is unable to resist the two men’s relentless seduction or her own sensual curiosity about a vampire’s special “kiss”.

When the real killer threatens the life of someone close to her, Darcy makes a choice that forever binds the three of them together.

“He’s coming in. Get ready,” Joe’s voice jerked Darcy Henry to wakefulness.

Berating herself for dozing off during a stakeout, she fumbled for the switch on her night vision goggles. Instantly, the landscape before her was awash in shades of luminescent green. She scanned the water’s edge. The crests of the ebbing tides rolled onto the beach, unbroken by any sign of “Bat-boy.” Had she already missed her opportunity?

“Where do you see him?” she whispered into the mike on her headset, glad the roar of the incoming surf masked their voices.

“Ten o’clock. Get cocked.”

She reached for her crossbow and drew back the linen cord with both hands and latched it in the spring clip. Then she slid a steel-tipped arrow onto the track. Sighting down the shaft of the arrow, she braced the bow in her left palm and dug her elbow into the sand. With the stock snug against her shoulder, her right forefinger slid around the trigger and she turned her sights back to the water’s edge—just in time to see a tall figure stride out of the surf.

He fit the description of the new vamp in town she’d purchased from the barman at the “blood bank.” Only the barman hadn’t filled in all the details. Darcy stiffened against her body’s sudden surge of attraction and firmly reminded herself the vamp’s body was like any other man’s. Yeah, right.

Her gaze flickered over him, inventorying his characteristics—for her After Action Report. Broad-shouldered, leanly muscled, just over six feet tall. Blond, she could tell, despite the fact his hair was plastered to his head. Handsome, too. With broad prominent cheekbones, a longish straight nose, and lips that appeared permanently curved in a smirk.

Unable to resist the temptation, she adjusted the lenses of her goggles to zoom, and her gaze slipped lower. His package was as fine arriving as his ass had been going into the water. His long, uncircumcised cock dangled between his legs. Something not mentioned in the barman’s description—and definitely not something that would make it into her AAR.

“Cease!” Joe said, impatience clipping his words. “A civilian’s in your line of sight.”

Darcy lowered the bow, cursing under her breath. “Where? And how the hell did we miss that?” she whispered angrily.

“She had to have been here when we arrived,” Joe replied. “If I hadn’t seen her hand rise above the dune…” Read the rest of this entry »

Snippet Saturday: Get ready….
Saturday, June 30th, 2012

On July 10th, FOURNICOPIA will release to the world! And I can’t wait for you to read it! I haven’t had so much fun with a series in a while, and you will see why!

Imagine it… FIVE lusty, hard-bodied cops—best friends with very few sexual inhibitions and a taste for kink. I introduced my Fabulous 5 in Five Ways ‘Til Sunday. Not a subtle title at all, is it? In this next installment, the same to-die-for men are challenged by one among them to help him with a fiery Domme.

Yes, we finally make it to theBDSM club, La Forge!

But that’s what’s coming. If you haven’t read the first book, you’ll want to read it so you know what came before. Click on the covers if you’re ready to order Five Ways or place Fournicopia on Pre-order!

Here’s what Five  Ways was all about…

“A really well written, hot, steamy and at times funny book that I have no problems recommending to anyone. A little of everything to suit everyone, no matter what your tastes or fantasies!” 5 Stars, Scorching Book Reviews

“FIVE WAYS ‘TIL SUNDAY was an awesome read…” 4.5 Stars, Night Owl Reviews

“Delightfully quick read, you are so consumed in the story it is difficult to put it down…” Sensual Reads

Sometimes a man’s just gotta call for backup…

Marti Kowalski is all wrong for Officer Jackson Teague—he just won’t listen to reason. She didn’t finish high school, runs a bar. Has a tattoo and a blue streak in her hair. Yet he still wants to marry her? She can’t say she’s not tempted, but she’s got a bucket list to complete before she ties the knot.

Not just any bucket—more like a fifty-five-gallon drum of sexual wishes so explicit, there’s no way one man, even Jackson, can fulfill them all.

When Marti turns him down again, Jackson doesn’t give up, he insists on knowing why. That’s when she shows him her list. He takes it, thinks about it—and calls on the only men he can trust: four buddies from his academy graduating class.

Between the five of them, he’s sure they can come up with a plan to check off every item on her list in one wild, wicked weekend. That is, if she has the nerve to follow through—and if he can bear to share her.

Warning: Five men on a mission to break down the resistance of one determined woman. Author suggests readers keep their significant others on speed dial. Not responsible for accidental 911 calls.

Marti Kowalski waved a hand blindly behind her at her desk, swiping the inventory sheets she’d slaved over for two days, and her telephone, to the floor. She didn’t care about the mess—or by the crunch—the loss of her phone. Right this moment, she had Jackson where she wanted him—too far gone with want to worry what damage he might cause.

His body was hard; his expression carved to a lustful edge, which promised the kind of sexy interlude she preferred—something spontaneous and surprising.

Even after all the months they’d been seeing each other, he managed to surprise her. Like now. He’d pulled her from the door of the ladies’ restroom and goose-stepped her with her arm bent behind her back to the manager’s office, growling menacingly into her ear about the wicked things he’d do to her.

Ma’am, keep quiet and I won’t hurt you.

She’d shivered at the menace in his voice, but he’d rubbed her hip gently to remind her this was just a game. She had to hand it to him. He knew what made her hot.

Jackson bent her over her desk and shoved up her blouse. His head ducked to pluck a nipple with his lips, and then he bit it.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she gasped, her fingers digging into the rigid Kevlar armor he wore beneath his dark shirt. “You’re on duty. Thought you didn’t cross that line when you’re wearin’ the uniform.”

His head reared back. His dark eyes flashed. “Shut up, ma’am. You draw any attention, and I might have to get rough.” Read the rest of this entry »

Snippet Saturday: I Want You to Want Me!
Saturday, June 23rd, 2012

There are TWO giveaways going on today. Two different sites.
Right here, you can enter a drawing for a free download of FUN WITH DICK AND JAYNE, by simply posting a comment. Then head over to the She Shifters blog for a chance to win a signed copy of Kate Douglas’s latest book, DREAM BOUND!

* * * * *


Sometimes, seduction comes with hearts and flowers. But that doesn’t work for everyone. Be sure to check out all the authors’ links this week to find the one you love the most. My personal favorite kind of seduction tends to appeal to the primal, primitive instincts. Have fun seeing what appealed to Garrett about the couple across the road…

“…Loved the characters, loved the conflict, loved the scorching hot sex…I do give high praise to Ms. Devlin. Her writing leaves me breathless and her heroes are simply delicious.” ~9 of 10, Seriously Reviewed

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.

Tuesday

They were going at it again, and he was gonna get arrested. Which would be pretty damn embarrassing, considering he was cop.

Like clockwork, the couple across the alleyway started banging the minute his car pulled into the garage.

The street along the back of the parallel rows of one-story houses wasn’t much of a buffer. Driveways spoked off the narrow, paved road. Only twenty feet separated his garage from the bedroom window across the way.

Last night, he’d loosened the garage light bulb to make sure it didn’t give him away when the door slid up. Tonight, he flicked his car’s overhead lamp switch off so that the light wouldn’t beam the moment he exited. Carefully, he closed his car door, pushing it with his hip to muffle the click as it locked, walked around to the back then sat with his butt against the trunk to watch the show.

They had to know anyone walking by could see every damn thing—every drop of sweat, every short curl of pale blonde hair. She faced the window, clutching the bottom windowsill, her breasts bouncing every time Boyfriend slammed her ass.

God, her tits were Grade-A prime. Cherry nipples, topping creamy mounds.

Her blue eyes closed, her mouth rounded, and he knew when she came because she always wore the same expression—her cheeks growing rosy, her eyebrows drawing together tightly and the corners of her mouth curving like the cat that licked the cream.

And if the wind hadn’t been whistling through the alley, he would have heard the whimper she gave when Boyfriend milked the last little contraction of her orgasm.

Fuck. He needed his own woman. Maybe she had a twin. Because he sure as shit wouldn’t be satisfied with anyone who wasn’t her, Jayne Peabody—Jayne Hotbody as he’d begun to call her. He’d had her plates run so he’d have a name to assign the woman who’d played a starring role in all his fantasies this past couple of weeks.

They’d finished and Boyfriend was pulling her into his arms, wrapping them around her belly and cupping those beautiful breasts as she snuggled against his chest.

It was time to leave. The show was over for the night.

Then her eyes opened, and Garrett Masters could have sworn she looked right at him. He cussed softly, straightened and raised his arm, pulling down the garage door and shutting off the sight of her mouth stretching into a wide grin. Read the rest of this entry »

Snippet Saturday: Fight Scene
Saturday, June 16th, 2012

Today’s round of snippets are all about fight scenes. Here’s one of my faves.

Post a comment today and enter a drawing to win a free download of this story!

“…STONE’S EMBRACE is a wonderfully descriptive story…The mix of Greek mythology with Christian elements is intriguing and adds to the subtle layering of eroticism and exoticism…this story is fantastic and a super-hot read!” ~5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews
“…The sex in the book was off the charts hot!…It was a wonderfully different story with a strong characters and a fun plot that left this reviewer breathless!” ~5 Stars, Just Erotic Romances

Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a genetic double whammy—a strange deformity and a shameful power inherited from the father she will never know. The power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch.

Exploring the garden of the mansion she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its broad chest. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all.

They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…

Warning: Sex with inanimate objects, lusty m/m/f ménages with gods…it’s all good when the reward is freedom.

Louisiana 1909

Octavius rammed his shoulder against the heavy oak door. The lock and hinges gave and the door crashed backward with a satisfying thud, raising dust that sifted through the air like silver-gilt fireflies in the moonlight. Wary, he stepped across the threshold. Inside, the house was dark, the air thick—too heavy to be natural.

He knew, without reeling in the psychic tether that kept him chained to the Grigori, that Bacclum was here. That the bastard had found the demon. He prayed he wasn’t too late to save Bacclum from his own insatiable lust for power. The consequences of his failure would mean his own end.

He should have known that Bacclum planned mischief that night. The mixed-blood angel had been too eager to see Octavius take a rare walk among humans, encouraging him to attend a masked ball at a wealthy residence inside the French Quarter.

While Octavius had enjoyed the rare opportunity to mingle among sweet-smelling women, secretly laughing as he pretended a lever inside his vest controlled the movement of his wings and thrilling to the many strokes of soft hands along his ribbed folds, Bacclum had snuck away. But not before he’d assured himself that his watcher’s vigilance had been dulled by the herbs stirred into his drink. If Octavius hadn’t noted the uneasy glances of the sloe-eyed woman who’d gulled him, he might have drunk the full measure. As it was, his head still swam and his loins throbbed with unabated lust.

The sound of crashing furniture and the low rumble of a masculine voice drew him up the staircase and down a hallway toward the sliver of golden light, fanning outward from a partially opened doorway. Sliding his back close to the wall, he gently pushed open the door and peered around the corner into a room lined with shelves of books.

Bacclum’s dark head was bent toward his chest, his thighs braced around the demon, his hands wrapped around a straining throat.

I’m not too late, thank the gods. “Let go, Bacclum!” Octavius growled as he stalked toward the Grigori steadily strangling the demon he clasped. Read the rest of this entry »

Saturday Snippet: How can you mend a broken heart?
Saturday, June 9th, 2012

Answer: Revenge Sex. Nuff said, right?

“Ok, first I am going to contact Delilah and see if she has the number for “Handy Men” because I have some things I just know they can take care of.” ~ 5 Stars and TOP PICK!, Night Owl Reviews

“Delilah Devlin’s stories are always fun, entertaining and totally hot. Bringing together unsuspecting people is what she does best. No one even can come close. Grab the lounge chair, put on some SPF 40 and spend some time with her sexy, sweaty and provocative playmates. You won’t regret it!!” ~ 4 Cherries, Long and Short Reviews

“Ms. Devlin has eroticism dripping from the pages of HANDY MEN!… HANDY MEN is sexy, sizzling and sinfully good!” ~ Joyfully Reviewed

“HANDY MEN packs a lot of punch with very few pages. The characters are three dimensional, well developed and their sexual encounters are off the charts.” ~ Lynette’s Two Cents

Two very handy men mend a divorcée’s broken heart…

Rather than cry over spilt milk, a newly divorced woman throws caution to the wind and decides to seduce her neighbor’s handsome handy man.

Jeff isn’t stupid—Pamela tossed those screws into her sink to get his attention! The fact she’s beautiful and vulnerable convinces him she needs “special” attention. When he has her hot and horny, he surprises her with his partner Casey and a threesome.

What starts for Pamela as a wild, no-holds-barred fling quickly gets stickier as the guys push for something longer lasting.

The impulse came like a flash of lightning—hot and searing—all the way to the bone. An idea born of a need she hadn’t felt in a long, long time…and inspired by one red-hot handyman in butt-hugging jeans and a t-shirt.

The man fired the militant gleam in her eyes as she brushed bronzing powder across her cheeks and swiped carmine “eat me” red lip stain across her mouth. She didn’t give herself time to rethink the decision, reaching for the phone before her usual, cautious self reasserted control. No more couch potato cry-ins for her. No more self-imposed exclusion while she figured out what to do with the rest of her life. Today, a new Pamela Dwyer was reaching for the damn gusto.

The anger felt good. Especially after the shock she’d received moments ago when she’d surfed the web for the latest gossip about her ex.

One glance at Andrew’s Facebook page, and Pamela’s confusion over what the hell had happened to her life dried up. He’d blocked her from his page, but his profile picture had been changed from Andrew’s handsome, craggy face to the soft innocence of his newborn son’s.

The picture said it all. And no doubt every one of their friends here in Austin, who’d rallied around her when he’d left, would now pour out their congratulations to him while privately agreeing he’d done the only thing he could do to be happy.

Tears had stung her eyes, but she’d refused to let them fall. Instead, she’d blinked them away, closed out the screen and glanced through the blinds at her immaculate lawn. The perfect lawn and landscaping to surround the perfectly appointed house she’d won in the divorce settlement.

But back to that lightning strike… Read the rest of this entry »

Two Hot New Releases!
Tuesday, June 5th, 2012

Since I’ve filled my blog calendar with luscious guesties, I’ve barely had time to post my own news. And you know there’s always lots of that. Today, I’d like to talk about two anthologies that released early from Cleis. Two different flavors of erotica for my eclectic readers—you’re bound to find something to suit your tastes!

For those of you who think you don’t like anthologies, think of them as a chance to meet new authors or a collection of bedtime reads—just long enough to get you in the mood, but short enough you can actually have time to do something about it! Click on the covers if you’d like to head to Amazon to purchase.

Girl FeverFrom my story, “Ignition Switch”… 

I have a hyper-sensitive clit. Touch it with a callused finger or the scrape of a nail and I come out of my skin.

Men don’t get it. I can demonstrate how I like it touched, but most think arousal dulls the nerves, because the more aroused they get, the harder they rub and press—like my clit’s a damn ignition switch and all they have to do is push it more insistently to get me revved.

I explained my problem to my best friend Morgan one night over drinks. She studied me with her smoky grey eyes. “Do you mind my asking why the hell you go for dick?”

The question shocked me. The answer was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it there. Why indeed? It isn’t as though I truly craved a man.

Her lips curved—just the corners. “I bet if you showed me, I’d get it right.”

The suggestion tantalized. I raised my Bellini and took a quick sip, stalling before I replied. Morgan was attractive. I liked her full curves. I’d had the usual feminine curiosity about what she looked like nude, but never allowed myself to go there.

I swallowed, bubbles tickling the back of my throat, then forced a smile. “Are you teasing me?” I asked, surprised by the huskiness of my voice.

Her eyes narrowed, and she sat back in her chair. The glide of a toe up the inside of one calf made my breath catch. “Does it feel like I’m teasing?”

Suite EncountersFrom my story “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn”…

I stepped out of the shower onto chipped and cracked aqua blue tiles with grout so dingy it was hard to tell what color it had been. Not that the bathroom was dirty, thank god. Just old. Like the rest of the 60’s-built motel I’d found on the little back country road.

I toweled my hair then shook my head like a dog, not caring where the droplets landed. It wasn’t a mess I’d have to clean up. For one last night I could be irresponsible, messy, even if it was only in a small way.

I draped the towel over the edge of the old white tub and sauntered naked into the small room with the double bed. It smelled of tobacco and industrial cleansers. The bedding looked clean if a little nappy from wear, but I peeled back the quilt-top and tossed it on the floor anyway. Pristine white sheets beckoned.

Just as I lay back, sighing with relief, sounds from outside the room jarred me from my happy haze. Tires squealed, masculine laughter bellowed through the thin walls, and car doors slammed. Read the rest of this entry »

Saturday Snippet: Every Breath You Take (villain, alpha male, etc)
Saturday, June 2nd, 2012

Charmed in the Big EasyOn June 6th, the next story in the Femme Noir series will release! Since today’s theme is all about strong men, I thought I’d let you meet Baron Samedi, the loa of the crossroads between the worlds of the living and the dead. Enjoy a little taste!

“Under the Rainbow” by Paisley Smith

When novice witch, MeLeah McKinney is sent on a mission to retrieve a talisman from the grave of famed Voodoo Queen, Marie Laveau, she’s not sure how she’ll be able to perform the sex magick ritual required for energizing the relic. Especially given that it’s been a long time since she’s had sex. She decides to gather energy at a live sex show on Bourbon Street. But she isn’t prepared for a little help from Celestine Laveau’s ghost who’s crossed the rainbow bridge to spend one night in the arms of a beautiful woman.

In order to defeat the ancient vampire who endangers them all, just one talisman is hardly enough…

“The Mambo’s Door” by Delilah Devlin

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

A crash sounded. The bedroom door splintered, exploding inward.

“Well, well,” came a deep voice, at once dry, rasping and crackling with anger. “Ma’man has been busy. She sends me presents, then fails to deliver ’em into my hands.”

Ingrid couldn’t help it—she tore her glance from Marie’s to stare up at the figment striding toward the bed.

He was tall, so slender he looked nearly skeletal, with skin stretched so tightly over prominent cheeks that she saw only shadow in the hollows beneath. His eyes were black and flat, the pupils narrow slits. It was the top hat, a crazy affectation, that identified him as Baron Samedi, loa of the dead.

“I’m not a present,” she said, lifting her chin and wondering where she found the courage to defy him. Maybe it was the last trace of vampire blood, maybe it was the trembling of Marie’s fist beneath hers. Whichever the cause, anger burst hot inside her.

“Not a present. Also not dead,” the loa said, leaning down to sniff the air around her. “How delicious.” Read the rest of this entry »