Yes, it’s Snippet Saturday, but I’m continuing my countdown to the release of my new book. One reader has already told me that the book has shipped. So if you’re eager to read it, follow the link to the book to buy your own copy!
When I began writing Ravished by a Viking, I wanted to take a reader on a journey, sink her into a world she’d never imagined, but could believe. I also wanted to introduce the overarching conflict of the series in a way that would make the beginning of the quest memorable. I began with a secondary character whose error in judgment started the adventure. Here you’ll meet Eirik, Dagr’s brother, who will be the hero of the second book coming out later this year, Enslaved by a Viking. My hope is that this will be a world you’ll want to revisit again and again.
Enjoy the snippet. And Happy New Year!
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Eirik Ulfhednar glared into his opponent’s reddened face and adjusted his hand, just a slight movement to improve his grip, and then bore down with all his might. The muscles of his forearm and biceps burned. A spike of adrenaline seared his blood.
Harald, who had boasted his prowess over drinks, didn’t seem so confident he’d win this contest now. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a feral snarl, but his bushy red brows rose, betraying his surprise that the man in front of him, so much younger and more privileged than he, hadn’t already crumpled.
A smile eased up the corners of Eirik’s mouth, and he narrowed his eyes. He would prove he was every inch his brother’s equal and deserving of respect from the crew at the mining camp. Respect that they’d denied him since his arrival that afternoon.
However, respect had to be earned from these fierce, rough men. An accident of birth didn’t grant an Ulfhednar, a Wolfskin, any special favors inside this clan. Further, Eirik’s status wasn’t helped by the fact that the last time he’d visited the camp, he’d been a gangly teen with blemishes on his face, tagging behind his elder brother.
But Eirik wasn’t a boy anymore. This challenge was a good place to prove it.
Without a hint to warn his opponent, Eirik opened his jaws and yawned, then squeezed harder around Harald’s huge fist and slammed it into the table.
The crowd surrounding them roared. Large, meaty hands slapped his shoulders in congratulations. Eirik gave Harald a chagrined smile and stood to reach over the table and offer his hand.
Harald shook his head, scowling, looking none too happy to have been bested, but he gripped Eirik’s wrist. “You won fair. Only other man who ever bested me was your brother.”
Prideful pleasure warmed Eirik, and he wondered why he’d been so resistant to return to this rough camp. He’d thought he wouldn’t enjoy it. That the journey itself would bring back hurtful memories of his father. However, his brother had been right about his needing to learn more about his heritage than just the art of battling like a Norseman. His brother was right about most things, and it was time for Eirik to accept that fact. Read the rest of this entry »
I don’t know about you, but for me, the hero makes the book. At the start of Ravished, we get a first glimpse of Dagr, the clan-lord of the Wolfskins, from the eyes of a secondary character. You can read that first full impression, and all of chapter one, if you click on this link. But I wanted to show you another first impression—the one from our heroine’s point of view with the hero acting the barbarian.
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Before the siren finished its first warning peal, Honora Turgay rolled to her feet from her bunk and slammed the comm switch on the wall with her palm. “Turk, tell me what’s happening.”
“Captain, we’ve been boarded by Vikings!”
“Pirates?” Her heart stuttered, then pounded hard against her chest. Norse pirates were a scourge on civilian vessels, but hadn’t dared threaten Consortium ships. Her ship couldn’t be the first. She could already hear the scornful whispers: What more would you expect from the daughter of Ahn Turgay?
“Not sure,” Turk said, his voice tight with excitement. “They entered through the hold. No other ships appear in our quadrant.”
“How many?” she bit out, pulling up her deep-space skin-suit and locking the tab at her neck.
“A dozen, no, two! More coming! They’re huge!”
She ignored the edge of awe in his voice. “Keep them from the controls. I’m on my way.” Touching the comm-patch on her collar to activate it, she decided against the additional seconds needed to don the outer layers of her uniform, opting to add only her boots. Time was of the essence. She had to get to the deck.
She slipped a stunner from its wall-mounted holster, then eased open her cabin door and glanced up and down the small private corridor in the left wing of the ship, leading from the officers’ quarters to the bridge.
Finding it empty, she hurried down the corridor to the end and up a narrow, ringed ladder to the hatch that opened directly onto the command deck.
“This can’t be happening,” she muttered under her breath. First the Viking cargo the bounty hunters had gathered, and now Vikings attacking her ship. Definitely not a coincidence.
A bad, bad feeling sat like a lump of the cook’s oatmeal at the bottom of her stomach. I am not my father. This moment will not define me.
Even before she shoved the door upward, she could hear angry shouts and the dull clang of metal. What the fuck kind of weapons were the pirates using?
Honora gripped her stunner tighter, slammed open the small round door, and climbed quickly through the hatch. All around her a pitched battle raged, and no one noticed her. She crouched behind the metal railing dividing the captain’s dais from the rest of the bridge, and edged toward her chair. If only she could get a message out to her command . . .
In five short days, Ravished by a Viking will release. That’s how many days I have to convince you that you want to read this book.
Here’s my first argument. The world building in my book goes deeper than the surface. Every facet of my characters’ lives has been re-envisioned—beginning with the story of how my Vikings arrived at their present state. I’ve built a legend into my story that will resonate throughout the series.
Every great quest tale ought to have a legend. You remember Buffy’s “There can only be one…”? Or the legend of the Aztec gold for the Pirates of the Caribbean?
When I started dreaming up how I could make my “Vikings in Space” world less ridiculous than it sounded, I knew the key was in developing a legend that made the concept plausible. I hit the books. My own personal library books, that is. I read everything I had regarding Viking history and mythology until a history for my Norsemen far from home began to form.
In the dusk of the final age of man, the bravest of warriors fought a fierce battle, joining all the peoples of the northern lands to battle a common foe, sure that the war they waged was Ragnorok—the end of times for all Norsemen. For the gods had come to Midgard, Earth, setting challenges for the warriors and plucking the fiercest, the strongest, and the most prolific breeders to abide with them in the new world where the “Regeneration” would occur. As the fires of the great war died to smoldering embers, The Chosen followed the gods onto the Bifrost, the shimmering bridge leading from Midgard to Asgard where the gods reside, carrying their worldly goods, and bringing their women and their animals to settle the golden world they’d been promised.
But the dreams of a land of endless harvests, green pastures rich enough to sustain them through the ages, gold vessels to sup from, and jewels to adorn their women, proved false. The gods sought to trap the warriors in endless labors, forcing them to burrow under icebound plains in search of “pure light.” Abandoned on their frozen world, the warriors rebelled against their slavery and returned to old habits and old ways, building fortresses of rock and ice. They chased away the gods, but soon they battled each other, raiding to survive, stealing food and women to sustain their endless appetites.
Until the day the gods returned…
~New Icelandic Chronicles
Ragnorok, the Bifrost bridge, and the Regeneration, are all concepts pulled directly from Norse mythology. And I wrote my new legend in the figurative language and tradition of the Icelandic Sagas—as Norsemen might have if they’d been uprooted during the Early Middle Ages, before Christianity arrived. Their history and the stories they’d tell wouldn’t stop when they left Earth. And when you enter the pages, you quickly realize that the men who exist on that new world aren’t as simple as the legend depicts. They may live in a harsh, unforgiving environment, but they aren’t crude or stupid. They are imbued with a sense of destiny. And they know their lives and adventures will be recounted in the old tradition.
On January 4th, my attention will be divided between two books—one, my first print title with Berkley, and the other, my next cowboy menage with Samhain. Most of my efforts are going toward the Viking book because I need it to be a success for me to be able to write more stories for Berkley. They are very different books, but both are ones I know you will enjoy. In the next week, I’ll share snippets from the Viking book, so that you will get a flavor of the fun that’s in store for you.
Something to keep in mind… Ravished by a Viking is available for pre-order now and is on sale for $10.20—a savings of $4.80 off the cover price. I don’t know how long that price will hold. If you order now, your card won’t be charged until it ships on the 4th! Ravished at Amazon
So today, is a “Tale of Two Books.” Click on the covers to read the openings for both. Tomorrow and Wednesday, I’ll have guest bloggers sharing this space, but after that, it will be Ravished excerpts up until the day. 🙂
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What a Viking wants, a Viking takes.
When his younger brother goes missing, Dagr, Viking warrior and Lord of the Wolfskin Clan, will do whatever it takes to get him back. But nothing could have prepared him for Honora—a feisty, intelligent woman who is nothing like the women of his world—women who are content to serve their men in all things. Drawn to her despite her recalcitrant nature, Dagr is determined to show her who’s boss both in bed and out.
When the two enemies-turned-lovers join forces to find Dagr’s brother they are thrown into a rousing adventure full of danger, intrigue and erotic abandon. Can their passion truly unite them or will their different worlds lead to destruction for them both?
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Two men plus one woman equals three bodies on fire…
True Wyatt’s hands are going to be full enough keeping the herd alive through the dead of winter. The last thing he needs to hear is that his brother Lonny has rented out their isolated hunting cabin to a reclusive writer—especially a sassy, disaster-prone brunette. Who has the time to babysit a city girl until Spring?
With a deadline looming, erotica writer Honey Cahill is looking forward to six distraction-free weeks to finish her next book. However, between Lonny’s flirty sensuality and True’s hard-edged intensity, the Wyatt brothers set the stage of her imagination for a winter of wicked delights.
The fire that destroys the cabin, though, is as real as it gets. Forced to seek a bed under True and Lonny’s roof, the temptation to experiment—all in the name of research, of course—is overpowering. One night in their arms doesn’t feel like enough; it feels like more. Particularly with one cowboy who fires all her cylinders…
My only Christmas story to date, and of course it’s about a vampire. The short story was written in 2005 when Hurricane Katrina was still weighing heavily on everyone’s mind.
Enjoy the snippet. And Happy Holiday!
In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Noelle Moyaux questions her gift of sight until a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger sets her on a path to save his soul.
Magnus Thornton is a millennium-old vampire who has found evidence of an old foe’s evil at work in the demolished city of New Orleans. Weary of the fight, he decides to greet the coming dawn after a night reveling in his favorite things–a bottle of Bordeaux and a willing woman.
Noelle seems the answer, but she quickly creeps into his heart-the vampire, so jaded from life he never speaks, must now persuade Noelle to flee the city before it’s too late.
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Noelle Moyaux flicked off the battery-powered Christmas lights that ringed her metal cart, folded her purple tablecloth into a small tidy square and tucked it and the folding table inside the cart before latching the lid closed.
She wheeled the cart across the busy street and waved to her friend Gerard, the owner of a small Cajun restaurant. Continuing around the back of the eatery, she stowed her palmistry kiosk in the storage unit she’d rented from Gerard since before the troubles.
Today’s earnings were slim, despite the unseasonably warm weather that allowed the thin-blooded residents of the city to roam the streets in light jackets. No one believed in a future amid the chaos—and some questioned her ability since she’d received no divination of the coming catastrophe. Indeed, Noelle questioned her gift daily as she sat beneath her umbrella in front of the embroidered cloth advertising “Noelle’s News”.
If not for the little nest egg of money she’d saved from substitute teaching before the flood, she’d be in dire straits.
Clutching her purse close to her side, she headed down the street toward home.
One last night. One last chance to lose myself in The Hunger, a fine glass of wine and the body of a willing woman. Before my last sunrise—the first I will see in nearly a thousand years…
Noelle heard the quiet, fleeting thought as she passed through the crowd ambling along Bourbon Street and spun to find the owner. The inner voice that accompanied the thought was masculine and raspy. Added to the familiar spark of connection when her skin had brushed against his was a wash of the blackest melancholy she’d ever sensed. It nearly drowned her in despair. Read the rest of this entry »
Wanna know what makes me cry? The old Hallmark commercials for sure. But I received something last night that hit me right at my core. I’m a storyteller. It’s what I do, but it’s also what I am. I work damn hard. Sure, I get to wear jammies and sweats and my office is just feet away from where I sleep. That doesn’t sound so tough, right? Well, sometimes it really is. When I wrote Ravished by a Viking, there were so many factors I didn’t have control over. The cover—I mean, what’s with the kilt? The print run. It’s not nearly large enough to impress. My publisher’s support. Well, since I’m new to Berkley, I’m kinda on my own. What I did have control over was the story. And it came straight from my heart. Back to what I received last night…
I opened my email to my first review. What touched me was that the reviewer knew what I accomplished was damn hard. And she got it. All of it. I’m including the whole review here, but it’s posted on her website too, Alien Places.
Ravished by a Viking
a novel by Delilah Devlin
Reviewed by Masha Holl
Clash of cultures, clash of myths, clash of powerful personalities: it should be easy to review Ravished by a Viking, a novel of erotic science fiction by Delilah Devlin. After all, how many authors can bring out on paper the excitement and more-than-willing suspension of disbelief that old fashioned adventure stories once brought us?
A kidnapped brother. A battle of wills between a ship’s captain and a planetary warlord. On one side, human colonists toughened by the harsh environment they’ve mastered, and who still praise and reward sheer physical strength. On the other, a galactic empire used to relying on the power of energy weapons and science.
And in the middle, our heroes. Men, women, wills and desires. Dagr, Clan-leader of the Wolfskins, who only looks like an unpolished barbarian. And Honora Turgay, who loses her ship to the Viking leader, but never surrenders her determination.
Ravished by a Viking is a myth come to life, but it’s also the story of two people: adventure, passion, discovery, transformation. All of Delilah’s scenes burn with energy, whether she writes believable, exciting, and heart-pounding action scenes, or scorching, breath-stealing, and enviable sexual encounters.
Yes, it should be easy to review one of Delilah Devlin’s stories, because each one of them delivers the promise of a great read, abundant humor, and larger-than-life characters. Delilah is a born storyteller, and knows how to build the tension on all levels, entwining sensual conquest with a growing friendship between the main characters, slowly turning what could become redundant sniping into clever flirting. And most importantly, she always surprises the reader – and sometimes the characters themselves.
But a reviewer should also announce to the reader what to expect beyond the open cover. Is it a romance? Of course, and I’ll say no more. But that would leave out the cleverly built and logical world of space-travel and alien societies her characters inhabit.
Is is science fiction? Of course. We have space-travel and ancient civilizations and the kind of questions science-fiction authors like to ask. But that would leave out the intense relationships between the characters.
Is it erotica? Oh yes, with scenes as hot and intense as Delilah can write, as charged emotionally as they are physically, it has to be. But that would leave out the character development and the world building and the tight plotting.
Yes, it was hard to write a review of Ravished by a Viking when the story speaks for itself you’re ready to re-read rather than write about it. But if I didn’t, you wouldn’t hear about it, and you’d miss a wonderful, action-packed, emotional roller-coaster of a read.
Today’s the last day to enter! AND you can enter again! Just Tweet, Facebook, or blog about this book and send me the link!
So this is the thing I need your help with. I’d like to get this widget spread as far and wide as I can. Read the contest instructions. There are TWO! Your suggestions regarding how to proliferate this over the web for the next three weeks would be appreciated!
Eirik Ulfhednar glared into his opponent’s reddened face and adjusted his hand, just a slight movement to improve his grip, and then bore down with all his might. The muscles of his forearm and biceps burned. A spike of adrenaline seared his blood.
