Bestselling Author Delilah Devlin
HomeMeet Delilah
BookshelfBlogExtrasEditorial ServicesContactDelilah's Collections

Blog

Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors is here!
Tuesday, October 14th, 2014

I’m late posting this! We’ve been covered up in company and sick babies. I finally have some “me” time!

HHWW is here! It should be on all the online sites and making its way to the brick and mortar stores. If it’s not stocked at your favorite bookstore, be sure to ask why not! If you’d like a hint of what’s inside the covers, be sure to check out the Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors website for excerpts and to meet the authors. If you’d like to see the names of the winners of the countdown prizes, look in the messages below.

Happy reading! DD

Hot Highlander 600

Trade Paperback & Ebook
Amazon | Barnes & Noble
Books-A-Million
Indiebound
The Book Depository
iBooks

1 Day: Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors (Contest)
Monday, October 13th, 2014

Hot Highlander 600Since tomorrow is release day, I’m going to award the two previous days’ prizes tomorrow. So there’s still time to enter if you haven’t already!

Right now, it’s very early morning. I really should be off to bed—I have a 6AM alarm set. Relatives are in town and we’re off to the city for some shopping and sightseeing, so I’ll be away from my desk. I will do my best to post news about an upcoming blog tour on release day. We’ve got a ton of prizes and opportunities to enter, so keep watching here for the “deets.”

I’ll leave you with one last thought about the book. If you have ever had a love for warriors, this book will satisfy. They come from countries all over the world. They wear kilts or armor, wield swords and iron fists. They are men who think duty or ambition is their paramount concern until they meet The One.

So come on. Turn the page. Sink into a story set in some far away time inside a castle with cold stone walls where a man with an intense gaze and warm hands will seduce you with his powerful frame and deep, rumbling voice. I was the lucky girl. I met them all first. 🙂

For more information about where you can buy your own copy of the book, check out the Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors website.

Post a comment today and you’ll get a second chance to win one of the books I’ve offered the past two days. Let me know whether you’d be willing to “touch the stone” and catapult back in time if you knew one of these warriors would be waiting for you!

2 Days: Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors (Contest)
Sunday, October 12th, 2014

UPDATE: The winner of the free signed copy of COWBOY HEAT is…Cara! 

* * * * *

Hot Highlander 600If you haven’t already guessed, I’m super excited about this anthology. I want it to do well, because I want my publisher to realize there’s a market for historically-themed sexiness. Yes, I doubt there’s many of us eager to actually touch that tall stone to be transported to some past era (unless we knew for sure Jamie F. was waiting there!). But I think we can leave behind the realities of poor hygiene and bad teeth long enough to enjoy some romantic fantasies.

Do you love Highlanders, English knights, Mongols, Samurai, or Vikings? This book has it all. If you’d like to read excerpts before you commit to purchase, be sure to check out the blogs each of the authors has posted to introduce you to their stories: Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors Blog.

Let me know your favorite flavor of historical hero, and you’ll be entered to win a free, signed copy of Cowboy Heat!

Here’s a peek inside the table of contents of Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors:

“Pleasure in Surrender” by Delilah Devlin
After the lady of the keep bars her gates to the barbarian the king commands she wed, the half-Viking knight scales the walls of her heart

“Wicked” by Susannah Chapin
The strong-willed daughter of a Scottish Laird learns it isn’t her surrender her father’s most powerful but wounded warrior craves

“The Keeper of the Keys” by Axa Lee
A Briton queen learns to lay aside the household keys of her responsibilities and ask her Saxon warlord husband for what she craves

“The Maiden’s Kiss” by Layla Chase
A Viking warrior tempts fate and his own control when an Icelandic maiden asks to be tutored in the art of kissing

“My Loveliest Vision” by Renee Luke
Despite a daunting affliction, the lady of the keep will protect her father’s holdings from a resolute knight come to claim what he was promised

“The Invasion of Nefyn” by Lizzie Ashworth
A Briton woman risks rape and death at the hands of invading Saxons in hopes of a visit from her warrior husband

“The Promise of Memory” by Regina Kammer
A Roman slave finds freedom in fantasies of a knight in the imperial guard—a warrior who evokes memories of a long lost love

“On My Honor” by Beatrix Ellroy
When a wounded knight is offered sanctuary by a widowed healer, the pleasure she also offers may strain his honor

“A Hawk in Flight” by Connie Wilkins
The Lady of Aragotsotn paid tribute to the Mongol conqueror to save her people, but her falcon-fierce heart remains undefeated—though it might be won

“To Love a King’s Man” by Emma Jay
At the Highland Games of 1589, a young widow risks all for a chance to win the love of a bastard favored by the king

“The Bodyguard” by Jacqueline Brocker
As a ninja stalks through the palace corridors, the daughter of a samurai lord is drawn to her wounded, pensive bodyguard

“Broken Vows” by Anya Richards
A marriage of convenience leads to most inconvenient desires and a threat to one knight’s immortal soul

“Poetry and Amber” by Axa Lee
A mighty passion ignites along the Volga River between a Celtic witch and the Rus king to whom she’s been traded

“The Squire” by Cela Winter
While traveling in France, a knight’s secretive new squire makes him question everything he knows about himself

3 Days: Hot Highlander and Wild Warriors (Contest)
Saturday, October 11th, 2014

UPDATE: The winner of the free signed copy of HIGH OCTANE HEROES is…Robin W! 

* * * * *

Hot Highlander 600Sometimes, I think I’m the luckiest writer in the world. I write the stories I want to write (for the most part). I can write any length I want to write—and you know that for me, the shorter the better. There’s something about writing something super short, putting everything into a few sparse words. You really have to hone a sentence; nothing that doesn’t absolutely need to be there can stay.

I didn’t begin writing short stories. I wrote longer stories then discovered a market for sexy novellas, then almost by accident, I discovered the Cleis Press anthologies. I wrote story after story, short 3000 to 4000 word hot little numbers, and I was hooked.

Then I thought, “Why am I waiting for the next call for submissions to write a new one?” I came up with my own proposal for a collection and it was accepted. So far six anthologies have been published and on October 14th, the seventh releases! If you’re curious about the anthologies that came before, you check them all out on this page: Delilah’s Collections.

I’ve loved the whole process of pulling together these collections. Every time, I gather old friends and new-to-me authors, and we dedicate to finding readers for our stories.

This time will be no different. We’ll be blogging and holding parties. We’ll have prizes along the way—our ploy to get you reading our excerpts, because we know that once you get a taste, you’ll have to get your own copy to finish the meal!

So follow along. Join the excitement. All the authors are pretty giddy over this new release, and could the timing be any better? Anyone watching Outlander on Starz?!

How can you keep “in the know” about our current contests and events?

1) Subscribe to our blog. (Look for signup block in the left hand column of the page.)

2) Like us on Facebook page.

3) Check out our Pinterest board.

Any of these will work. We hope you’ll join us. And just as a reward for showing up today and reading through this email, I’ll offer a signed copy of High Octane Heroes to one lucky commenter. I’ll choose the winner tomorrow night! Tell me whether you’re doing any of the things I’ve mentioned to follow the fun.

Erin Bevan: The Ranch Hand
Friday, October 10th, 2014

A cold front’s coming through, a cold front’s coming through. In Texas, that warrants just as much excitement as a national holiday. In fact, maybe even more so. God seems to leave the heater on in Texas more than the AC and after months and months of hot weather a little cold front would be nice. Sad thing is that a “cold” front in Texas would only be considered a cool breeze, or maybe even a warm breeze in a place like Montana. But, hey, we’ll take what we can get.

Fall weather represents everything that makes me smile. Warm cups of coffee in the afternoon, leaves that change to bright shades of oranges, reds and yellows, sweaters, scarves and boots galore! If you asked my husband what autumn meant to him, he could sum it up in one word-Football.

His Thursdays and Saturdays are determined by how well the University of Houston plays, and if any of you follow U of H football, you would know that our weekends haven’t gone so well. Despite my husband’s ill feelings toward his alma mater’s sports program, he still takes the time to make me a large pot of chili or gumbo whenever I ask. Curling up with a bowl or mug of something warm and a good book is a rare treat now with three small children running underfoot, but I take the opportunity whenever I can.

So, what does chili and football have to do with my new story, The Ranch Hand? Absolutely nothing, but Texas and Montana does. If you’re looking for something to take you a way for a while, then let my rough and rugged Montana Man and my sweet sexy Southern Belle do the trick.

After all, the month of October is all about tricks or treating. Treat yourself to something you want to do for a change.

Erin Bevan
www.erinbevan.com

perf5.000x8.000.indd

Jason Haverty is looking forward to the fall horse drive, until his boss and uncle informs him one of the new cowboys coming in to help will be riding his favorite horse. His annoyance is furthered when the cowboy turns out to be a cowgirl—a quick-witted and confident blonde beauty. Trying to avoid her doesn’t work. The more time he spends with her, the more an unexpected protectiveness toward her grows.

Bobby Jo’s Texas upbringing taught her to give just as good as she gets, a quality Jason finds frustrating and all the more endearing in this Southern Belle. When an accident on the trail places her in possible danger, Jason realizes she means more to him than he thought. The question is, does she feel the same?

You can catch The Ranch Hand here at:

https://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=242_175_141&products_id=5812

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Ranch-Hand-Erin-Bevan-ebook/dp/B00NESA51Y/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1412342900&sr=8-2&keywords=The+Ranch+Hand

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ranch-hand-erin-bevan/1120377505?ean=2940150686335

While the cat’s away… a question!
Thursday, October 9th, 2014

I’m house-sitting today. I have my thumb drive and my watercolor paint and brushes with me. I’ll do something productive, no doubt. But I’m such a hermit. I love my work-cave with all my cluttery things around me. Once, I considered redoing my office along Feng Shui principles (a friend of mine had hers redesigned by a professional and said that she felt refreshed and inspired every time she entered that space), but the first thing that popped up when I started researching Feng Shui was the concept of decluttering. I knew in an instant I couldn’t work that way. I need my little things around me—my action figures, shabti, my Scythian rabbit, my fairy and dragon pictures, my little alien figures and Sheldon bobble-head… We’ll see if I can concentrate without them today. So, while I’m away from my desk, I am going to try to not look at my email or this page too often. I’m a little obsessive that way. While I’m a hermit about my workspace, I love to interact virtually.

My question for you is whether you are like me—a hermit who loves
her online friendships? Or are you an extrovert who has simply found
a way to expand her circle of friends?

P.S. And be sure to check out today’s blog at Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors to get your free download! 

Megan Mitcham: Blu… Blu… Blurb!
Wednesday, October 8th, 2014

Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of one of the Base Branch Novels!! Winner’s choice!!

I’m baaack! Last time we talked about covers…because I love them!! But they’re really not the thing that makes me buy a book. I’m not that shallow. For me purchase comes with a blurb that makes my fingers itch to rip into the pages open or press the buy-now button faster than Flash. A good blurb gives enough to frame the story, but leaves you panting for the details.

Today I’ll give you a blurb I hope does just that. And an excerpt that makes you drool for more.

mmBB Series Blog Header Release Date

The Base Branch Series

Serve in the name of honor. Battle in the name of love.

Known by few as the Base Branch, the United Nations’ Special Operations Forces provide globe defense against any who threaten the fragile balance of peace.

ENEMY MINE When friends become enemies and enemies become lovers.

Born in the blood of Sierra Leone’s Civil War, enslaved, then sold to the US as an orphan, Base Branch operative, Sloan Harris is emotionally dead and driven by vengeance. With no soul to give, her body becomes the bargaining chip to infiltrate a warlord’s inner circle, the man called The Devil who killed her family and helped destroy a region.

As son of the warlord, Baine Kendrick will happily use Sloan’s body, if it expedites his father’s demise. Yet, he is wholly unprepared for the possessive and protective emotions she provokes. Maybe it’s the flashes of memory. Two forgotten children drawing in the dirt beneath the boabab tree. But he fears there is more at stake than his life.

In the Devil’s den with Baine by her side, Sloan braves certain death and discovers a spirit for living.

EXCERPT

Stroke. Stroke. Breathe. Stroke. Stroke. Breathe. Sloan’s sun flushed skin prickled quickly in the cool water. For the next twenty minutes, she focused on the rhythm. She released every concern from her mind and swam. No, in hooker mode her legs couldn’t kick as furiously as she wanted nor arms stroke as hard, but her muscles still sang. The effort gave her brain a welcomed respite from the restless night.

Covert work had always been Sloan’s forte. Morphing into someone else. Hiding who she was. What she’d endured. But this assignment held in the balance every desire she’d clung to since the day she’d quit mourning her parents and started fighting, everything she’d thought beyond her grasp after so long struggling to make it a reality. This assignment had also tapped a well of emotion she’d thought long ago drained.

“Nice stroke.”

His voice destroyed her solitude. The dark timbre resonated down Sloan’s spine like a cellist’s bow being dragged across the C string. A fresh wave of gooseflesh crested over her. She curled the water’s surface and turned toward Baine. Words froze in her throat. Thick and unruly dark hair cropped neatly around his ears, but dipped and swayed wildly at his forehead. The perfect handle for screwing. Jezuz. If that one wasn’t enticing enough, the swells and dips of his traps, shoulders, and biceps provided a feast of options to grip while riding the sculpted V of his hips. Everywhere she looked his swarthy skin wrapped taut—over a defined eight pack, thick and sturdy legs, corded forearms. The short crinkles of brown hair that peppered across his chest and peeked out from the waist of his swim trunks sizzled her brain.

“Thank you.” Sloan aimed for courteous and non-solicitous, tamping down the resentment, warring curiosity, and wicked lust he stirred inside her with every bit of self-control she possessed.

The bespoke suit he’d worn so well the night before had been traded for charcoal swim trunks and a towel slung over one shoulder. He moved toward her with grace that belied his bulk, before dropping his towel on the chaise next to hers. Of all the chairs and loungers in the place, he’d chosen the only occupied lounger on the entire patio. The act, though in all likelihood innocent, rang in Sloan’s ears like a war cry. A deliberate move in a complicated game of chess. Having just finished her laps, his timing was too perfect to be coincidence.

Baine turned and settled his gaze on her. Sloan searched for any sign of recognition in the sky blue orbs, in the tautness of his square jaw, or the furrow of his brow, and found none. Good. If he recognized her, the mission would be ruined. Not that she’d live to see the fallout. It was good that his eyes hadn’t alighted with remembrance, but heedless of the boon, emptiness pitted her belly.

Every battle honed instinct screamed for Sloan to retreat. In submission, she pushed off the bottom and glided to the stone outcropping only a few feet away from the enigma that was Baine Kendrick. She should hate him on sight. Anger roiled just under the surface, but the sudden and undeniable physical awareness of him played bumper-cars with the ire and her brain.

“It’s all yours,” she said, levering herself out of the water. Thousands of droplets rained off her body, and Baine’s intent study likely cataloged each. Like a damn schoolgirl, her cheeks heated.

“That’s good,” he said. A smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. Then he added, “I think you would put me to shame in a proper race.”

Sloan shook her head, unable to speak. The twinge of memory of two forgotten children racing over the green grass was too sweet and painful to rouse.

He held out a towel, and she forced her feet to close the distance. Proximity sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her, similar to the energy that surged before a fight, but different. She swallowed hard, struggling to ignore the nuance, which made her hyper aware she wore only strategically placed strips of spandex. When her fingers closed around the terry cloth, Lana and Cynthia came ambling through the doorway onto the patio. Their conversation quieted once they saw her and Baine. The women waved.

“Good morning, ladies.”

They beamed at him as they walked by, then settled on side-by-side lounges at the opposite end of the row. Sloan nodded and soaked up the excess moisture from her hair and body in preparation for her escape. She secured the towel around her body with a tuck of its tail at the top of her breast, and gave him the best smile she could muster.

“Enjoy the—”

“Lotion me,” he asked. Though his tone made it sound like more like a command.

Sloan turned a palm up. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any.” She motioned toward the other women. “They might have some, and I’m sure they’d happily help.”

“And you wouldn’t,” he countered.

While she sputtered, something she didn’t recall ever having done in her life, he reached across her to a side table and plucked a tube from a decorative bowl. His body came so close to hers the heat he radiated seeped into her marrow. As he retreated, the dusting of dark hair on his chest tickled her arm.

“Here,” he said, slapping the lotion into her hand.

He sat on the end of the chaise, elbows on his knees. Hunching didn’t diminish his presence in the least. In fact, it drew Sloan’s attention to the sloping topography of his chest and the spread of his shoulders, which dwarfed the chair under him. When she didn’t move he tilted his chin up and directed her behind him with a thick arm.

She circled him in a wide arc, but surrendered, tucking behind him on the hard wood. Clinically, like she treated a field wound, Sloan uncapped the sunscreen, deposited a dollop on her palm and began rubbing it onto his back. From his nape she worked her way out over his shoulders, denying the tingle the friction created below her waist. Until he leaned into her touch.

 

MM_026Megan Mitcham was born and raised among the live oaks and shrimp boats of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where her enormous family still calls home. She attended college at the University of Southern Mississippi where she received a bachelor’s degree in curriculum, instruction, and special education. For several years Megan worked as a teacher in Mississippi. She married and moved to South Carolina and began working for an international non-profit organization as an instructor and co-director.

In 2009 Megan fell in love with books. Until then, books had been a source for research or the topic of tests. But one day she read Mercy by Julie Garwood. And oh, Mercy, she was hooked!

Megan lives in Southern Arkansas where she pens heart pounding romantic thriller novels and window-steaming erotic romance.

Author links:
https://www.meganmitcham.com/
https://www.facebook.com/meganmitchamauthor
https://twitter.com/MeganMMMitcham
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6552758.Megan_Mitcham
https://www.pinterest.com/meganmitcham5/