Sorry, I missed the contest end date. I didn’t even think about it until late last night. Tomorrow morning, I’ll pick a winner of The Believe Fairy Contest. ~DD

Your idea and my idea of what constitutes a romantic scene might be two completely different things. I’m not a hearts and flowers kind of girl. Give me a strong alpha male who’s willing to risk EVERYTHING for his woman, and I melt. I hope you enoy this scene from Ravished by a Viking. Here, Dagr risks all to rescue his woman, Honora.

The Romance Studio’s 2011 CAPA winner for Best Sci-Fi Romance!

“Clash of cultures, clash of myths, clash of powerful personalities…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 wonderful, action-packed, emotional roller-coaster of a read.”
Alien Places

“With the intriguing meshing of the past with the future this was an engrossing read…”
Top Pick!, Night Owl Reviews

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?

Just as his skiff crunched against the rough edge of the beach, Dagr jumped to the ground, then spun to see how the battle fared. What there was left of a battle, anyway. The action was mostly a retreat—an ignominious run for safety. He counted heads quickly, assuring himself that every one of the men who had accompanied him had made it.

Frakki ran to his side. “Shall we save the bastards?” he said, disgust flavoring his tone. He nodded toward the Consortium soldiers doomed to die if the Vikings didn’t mount a concerted rescue.

Odvarr loped toward him, his chest heaving, his face creased with worry. “Dagr, your woman!” he shouted, pointing toward the open waters.

A woman was on the ice! Dagr turned in time to see a slender figure pitch over the side of a skiff and slide on her belly perilously close to the edge. He didn’t bother asking what Honora was doing there, or, more precisely, what she was doing on the frozen water. He broke into a run, heading for the closest boat, Frakki on his heels.

They both swung up, Frakki taking the steering ropes, and Dagr balanced on his feet at the raised nose of the small craft. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Stay still, Honora,” he shouted, although the wind, the hollow roars of the beasts, and the screams from the remaining soldiers drowned out his voice.

He ignored the slashes of laser light that pounded the ice around him, dared the soldiers sure to die a gruesome death to kill him because he wasn’t turning back. If the goddess Hel herself reached up from her frozen kingdom to drag him down, he’d fight her.

“Dagr . . .” Frakki said quietly, dread in his voice.

“I know.”

Beneath them a dozen of sea serpents, in blue, green, and orange, swam, tracking them like prey, spiraling, shooting away for a few feet, then circling in closer.

One tapped beneath the hull of their small craft, and the ice groaned and crackled.

Behind them, came the scraping sound of more skiffs joining them on the ice. His men were skilled with the boats, often skimming just off shore. Just far enough to drill into the ice to fish, but close enough to the keep that the guard on the wallwalk could give them fair warning. None of his men were was as skilled as he at escaping the beasts because none dared travel the open seas.

Still they followed him, shouting and hitting the ice with the points of their pikes to draw the beasts away.

In the distance, Arikan’s men continued to fire, shredding the solid surface beneath their feet in their panic, drawing the creatures who banged their heads from below to crack the ice, then shoot upwards, mouths agape to catch the men before diving deep to devour them.

Dagr could only worry about only one Consortium officer, who now lay on her belly on the ice, her face turned toward him, her eyes beseeching. That she was terrified was evident by the paleness of her skin and the roundness of her eyes. And by her silence. Honora was rarely silent.

When their skiff drew near, Frakki slowed only a fraction, just enough for Dagr to jump off the boat. He rolled, leapt to his feet, and ran for his woman, brandishing his sword and hoping that another of the boats was close enough to retrieve them once he had her before the dragons burst through the ice.

He prayed as never before—to Thor, who’d blessed his fathers’ sword. Prayed that, just like Thor, who’d felled the giant Hrungnir with his mighty hammer, that his sword and his will would be enough to save the only person who’d ever made him feel complete, the woman who held the other half of his heart.

Honora lay flat on the ice, her head raised, watching Dagr draw near. As her muscles contracted with cold, relief and abject fear for him warred inside her.

He threw down his cloak, his furs, never slowing, running full out, his dark hair whipping behind him, his expression so fierce it took her breath away.

A loud thud sounded beneath her.

Honora couldn’t hold back a scream as the ice cracked and lifted, splintering into large pieces like a jagged puzzle. She scrambled for a handhold, sliding gloved fingers over one raw edge.

A serpent pushed up, its dark orange head lifting the shard-like section of ice she held tight to, pushing on one edge with the end of its nose and tilting her toward the water. With her arms stretched, her body swinging, she cast a glance toward Dagr, sure he would be the last thing she saw in this life.

Dagr was close, and not slowing, although the ice broke beneath his feet. He took one last step and leapt onto the serpent’s head, landing hard, and gripped his knees on either side of its wide skull.

Their gazes met for a moment, Dagr’s filled with love and regret. Then the beast pulled down its head, dislodging the icy shard she clung to, and sending it sliding across the ice, away from it and Dagr.

“No!” Honora screamed, watching in horror as the beast shook its head, trying to dislodge Dagr, but he held tight, the hand not holding his sword gripping horny spikes atop the beast’s saw-tooth brow.

The creature flung back its head one last time, and then tucked his its head down, preparing to dive.

With a roar, Dagr let go of the spikes, turned his blade upside down, gripped the pommel in both hands, and plunged it downward, piercing the beast’s translucent blue eye.

The creature let out a loud, hollow squall, then crashed down his its head, slamming the ice and breaking it. Water closed over its head, submerging the beast and taking Dagr down with it.

Desolation clawed at her chest and Honora screamed again, shoving up to her feet and running to the edge of the ice to peer deep into the water, uncaring whether another beast burst from the water. Her heart was already lost in the cold, cold depths.

Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:

Eliza Gayle
Rhian Cahill
Anne Rainey
Jody Wallace
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
HelenKay Dimon
Shiloh Walker
Zoë Archer
Lacey Savage
Leah Braemel

Enjoy an excerpt from an oldie set in a cold, cold place. The setting’s perfect for the pair you’re about to meet. I used a Russian Fairytale, a little Norse myth, and stirred it in a bowl together to come up with this odd little fairy tale. 🙂

“…ARCTIC DRAGON is a captivating fairytale…”
4 Kisses, Two Lips 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…”
5 Angels & Recommended Read, Fallen Angels Reviews

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.

Do no harm.

He lived by that rule now. At least in regard to people.

For now, he had a stew pot to fill, and he’d tracked a lone deer through the forest to this spot. A soft snort, and he found the doe digging with her hooves to uncover whatever she could still forage beneath the snow.

Drake tugged off his mittens and raised his rifle, setting the stock snug against his shoulder. He had the doe in his sights and slowly pulled back on the trigger, when an unexpected tinkling sound, like bells carried on the wind, drew his attention. His gaze strayed for only moment. As his attention returned to his quarry, a sudden icy wind swept up snow, obscuring his view.

The shadow of the deer still in his scope, he pulled the trigger, jerking the barrel upward at the last moment when he realized he wasn’t looking at a doe at all—but a woman on a bay-colored horse! Read the rest of this entry »

What hotter place could a werewolf princess find herself than in Hell, the Land of the Dead? Enjoy this peek inside Darkness Captured!

“Delilah Devlin delivers an erotic tale of good and evil elevated to a higher level… The erotic scenes in this book are hotter than Hades and ten times more tempting. I dare you to resist!”
5 Cups, Coffee Time Romance

“Darkness Captured is…another steamy sensation!… Delilah Devlin is definitely the mistress of erotic romance!”
Reader to Reader Reviews

“Another hot read of dark sensuality, riveting situations and jaw-dropping desire.”
Fresh Pick!, Fresh Fiction

“Devlin creates memorable characters with exceptional emotional depth. Her magical worldbuilding sets as atmospheric scene for a fast-paced story. The sexual tension runs high and the encounters are smokin’ hot.”
4 Stars, RT Book Reviews

Driven by insatiable desire, a werewolf will enter hell to rescue a princess captured by the Master of Demons…

Headstrong and proud—a royal creature of sinuous grace, all primal instinct and lethal beauty—the shapeshifter Gabriella has agreed to serve as emissary to the vampires who rule in the shadows of the New Orleans night. But she cannot resist the pull of the demon she glimpses on the other side of a mirror, and she is drawn to him hungrily, through a magical portal into the Land of the Dead. Now an eternal nightmare awaits Gabriella at the hands of a mesmerizing dark lord who satisfies her every erotic need…while slowly devouring her soul.

The powerful warrior wolf Guntram Brandt is responsible for the safety of the vanished princess he swore allegiance to years before. Yet it is more than a soldier’s loyalty that pulls Guntram down into the depths of nightmare—for Gabriella ignites within him a burning animal passion that must be satisfied.

But when offered an escape, will she follow her rescuer to safety—torn between her lustful obsession with the dark lord who has enslaved her and her fierce sensual attraction to the only wolf who could ever master her?

 

Tomorrow’s the day the Red Hot Weekend stories release. They all share a similar cover, but our stories only relate to the previous story we wrote in the Red Hot Winter series. Meaning, my Lone Heart is related to True Heart, but not to the other stories in the series. But y’all didn’t come here to hear that. Y’all came to read something naughty, right? How about the first time Charli succumbs to the desire Lone Wyatt can draw from her with just the wicked sparkle in his eyes… Enjoy!

Read another excerpt
Pre-order your copy now!

“Why are you in such a hurry? Did I scare you off?”

Her head whipped up, her gaze landing on the young cowboy.

He stood beside her truck, his gaze shadowed beneath his hat. “I’d like to buy you a drink. Get to know you.”

“I can’t stay,” she blurted. “I’ve got someplace to be.”

He nodded, then sighed. “Do I make you nervous?”

She forced a laugh—and told a lie. “No. But I’m late.”

“Yeah. I can see that. Can I buy you a drink some other time?”

Why was he so insistent? “Look, it was just a dance. And it was nice.”

“Nice? Huh.” His lips twisted, then settled into a slight smile. “I made you nervous. Made you want something more than you were prepared to give. I apologize.”

“I’m not nervous. I’m not anything other than late.”

He stepped closer, and her heartbeat thudded. The parking lot was dark—not that she was frightened of him—but the closer he came, the more her body responded. She held up her hands. “What are you doing?”

“I think I’m gonna kiss you.” Read the rest of this entry »

Happy Saturday! Enjoy this long excerpt, then follow the links at the bottom to check out more “saturday snippets”! This one’s about a dime novelist who discovers her story is coming true. She’s a little odd, the story’s a little odd—happy reading!

“…Sisters Devlin and Jackson team up with Chase to create sizzling stories of delicious, daring men and even wilder women. Make sure you’ve got time to kill, because once you start you’ll want to read this collection in one sitting.”
4 ½ Stars, RT BOOKreviews

These women like their horses fast and their men hard. And they always know how to get what they want…

When Prudence Vogel finally meets Jake White Eagle, she discovers he really is the tall, handsome hero of her novel. And his dark sensuality and raw masculinity make her eager to explore every intimate inch of his beautiful body…

Serendipity, Montana 1883

Prudence Vogel didn’t want to miss a thing.

She wet the tip of a sharpened pencil on her tongue and steadied a writing tablet on her lap, ready to capture the last moments of her journey. But, as was her nature, her mind wandered, and instead she began to write the adventure playing out in her imagination.

Katarina’s nose wrinkled at the smell of stale beer and dust as she slipped behind the saloon and peered into the darkened room—

The stagecoach jolted as a wheel slipped into another deep rut on the rough trail, sending her pencil scraping off the edge of the pad.

She sighed, resigned she’d have to commit the final moments of her journey to memory and pick up her heroine’s adventure after she arrived at her destination.

She slid her tablet into the pocket of her valise behind her dog-eared copy of The Adventures of Katarina, her latest, well only, publishing credit. She’d kept the novel in clear view in hopes of drawing a comment to give herself an opportunity to sell one of the many copies she’d brought with her.

Not the dog-eared copy—that one contained penciled notes of the details she’d gotten wrong. For that was the purpose of this journey. Prudence Vogel had never traveled outside the city of Chicago, yet her first novelistic experience was an adventure tale set in the wild frontier, featuring a tall, handsome hero she’d only fantasized about. She needed to know whether she’d been wrong.

For all she knew, the real Jake White Eagle was a short, squat man who could suck his whiskey through the space where his front teeth ought to be. She’d braced herself the whole journey for disappointment because she’d built such high hopes he’d be the hero she’d envisioned—the kind of man a real “Katarina” would admire.

Tales of his wild youth, his talent with a gun, his time spent scouting with Wild Bill Cody for the 5th Cavalry had fired her imagination since she’d come across the first mention of his name in the Chicago Tribune.

After that she’d scoured every newspaper she could get her hands on, searching for a description of the man and his exploits.

Physical descriptions had been hard to come by—“burnished skin” and “the deadly stare of the black-eyed Indian” hadn’t told her whether his jaw was square or rounded, or his nose was a sculpted blade or broad and bumpy. And it would have been helpful to know whether Katarina would have to lift her patrician chin to kiss his lips. Since she’d lacked definitive answers to her questions, in her mind she’d created an image of the man she wanted him to be.

However, news of his dangerous exploits had been much easier to find. The man had earned quite a reputation as a gunslinger as he’d roamed the western territories. Then for some reason, last year, he’d settled in Serendipity, Montana. Not Deadwood or any number of more recognizable wild, western towns, but an unknown place with a whimsical name.

In her research, she’d missed the reason for his inexplicable move. Now, she wanted the truth for the sequel to her book, and detailed descriptions to bring her wild, west adventures to life.

Prudence pulled back the curtain to take a look outside, blinking against a cloud of dirt stirred up by the stage’s team of horses.
Read the rest of this entry »

Get your free copy of Strokes while you can. See yesterday’s blog for details!

Enjoy today’s little snippet which highlights the unusually close friendship Bo shares with the Kinzie brothers…

“…what you get is explosive, emotional and endearing, something Delilah Devlin does better than anyone…”
4 Cherries, Whipped Cream

There’s a wild child trapped inside her, and they’re hell-bent on unleashing it…

As the pretty daughter of the town whore, Shanna Davies has always tried hard to toe the line. But she just can’t help it. Her boyfriend, Bo Crenshaw, has lured her untamed spirit out to play once too often. It’s time to get the hell out of Dodge and make a new start where no one knows her past. After she fulfills one last, wicked fantasy.

Shanna is Bo’s first everything. First kiss, first sexual playmate, first love. Yet he’s never managed to convince her that he accepts her—good girl and bad—just as she is. So, she wants a memorable send off? No problem. He’ll give her one that’ll make her think twice about leaving.

On the appointed night, Shanna expects nerves. Yet once she crosses the threshold, the prospect of surrendering to a night of unrestrained passion with Bo and the three Kinzie brothers makes her mouth water—and her courage dry up.

But she asked for it, and now she’s not about to blink first in this game of sexual chicken…

Warning: Four lusty cowboys prove a little domination goes a long way in breaking a stubborn woman to saddle. Lots of spanking, binding, flogging, and double-dipping can keep a girl on her toes, her back, her belly, her knees…

Bo rehearsed the request a dozen times, pacing in front of the Kinzie porch. He’d come early enough to catch them before they headed into town to hit the saloon, getting a rash of shit from his foreman because the old man had guessed his distraction had something to do with a girl.

Fuck. How did you ask friends to help you blow your girl’s mind without looking like a fool?

“Do you think he knows we’re out here?” came an overloud whisper.

Bo turned, shooting a glance over his shoulder. The three Kinzie brothers were lined up on the other side of the rail, eyeing him. Josh grinned. Cade’s expression was wary, his eyes narrowed. And Ezra? Well, Bo never could get a bead on what Ezra thought because the man’s expression never strayed from neutral.

He chose to address Cade’s wary glance first. “I’m not here to borrow your tractor again.”

“Weren’t gettin’ it even if you did. Got it stuck to the axle last time.”

Josh leaned his butt against the rail. “Only thing ever gets you so worked up is Shanna Davies.”

Bo snorted and narrowed his eyes. Josh wasn’t a mind reader. He’d been drinking with Bo Saturday night when Shanna had approached him.

Josh grinned. “Well, that got a reaction. Better come in and get a beer while we get cleaned up.”

Bo blew out a deep breath, glad for the reprieve, and climbed the porch steps.

Inside the house, Josh headed down the hall toward the bedrooms, Cade on his heels.

However, Ezra pulled the tab of the beer he already held and settled onto a settee in the family room, not caring that his clothes were sweat-stained and covered in dust. “So what’s botherin’ you? You finally tell Shanna you’re in love with her?”
Read the rest of this entry »

Setting, especially in a historical or paranormal tale, can serve as another character. Here, Gabriela is introduced to the Land of the Dead. Because most of the story takes place in that realm, I was able to let my imagination fly while I built that world, brick by brick. There’s an entire other world with it’s own rules, unique inhabitants, and dangers lurking. Enjoy seeing Gabriela get herself into another pickle. 🙂

“Delilah Devlin delivers an erotic tale of good and evil elevated to a higher level… The erotic scenes in this book are hotter than Hades and ten times more tempting. I dare you to resist!”
5 Cups, Coffee Time Romance

“Darkness Captured is…another steamy sensation!… Delilah Devlin is definitely the mistress of erotic romance!”
Reader to Reader Reviews

“Another hot read of dark sensuality, riveting situations and jaw-dropping desire.”
Fresh Pick!, Fresh Fiction

“Devlin creates memorable characters with exceptional emotional depth. Her magical worldbuilding sets as atmospheric scene for a fast-paced story. The sexual tension runs high and the encounters are smokin’ hot.”
4 Stars, RT Book Reviews

Driven by insatiable desire, a werewolf will enter hell to rescue a princess captured by the Master of Demons…

Headstrong and proud—a royal creature of sinuous grace, all primal instinct and lethal beauty—the shapeshifter Gabriella has agreed to serve as emissary to the vampires who rule in the shadows of the New Orleans night. But she cannot resist the pull of the demon she glimpses on the other side of a mirror, and she is drawn to him hungrily, through a magical portal into the Land of the Dead. Now an eternal nightmare awaits Gabriella at the hands of a mesmerizing dark lord who satisfies her every erotic need…while slowly devouring her soul.

The powerful warrior wolf Guntram Brandt is responsible for the safety of the vanished princess he swore allegiance to years before. Yet it is more than a soldier’s loyalty that pulls Guntram down into the depths of nightmare—for Gabriella ignites within him a burning animal passion that must be satisfied.

But when offered an escape, will she follow her rescuer to safety—torn between her lustful obsession with the dark lord who has enslaved her and her fierce sensual attraction to the only wolf who could ever master her?

Gabriella landed on her knees in the middle of the Persian carpet. Once again facing the crudely carved stone walls of Alex Broussard’s magical bolt-hole. “Alex, you lousy bastard, you can’t do this to me—”

Her shout was cut short when the object of her bitter tirade grabbed the hand of the pregnant woman who’d been resting on a deep sofa inside the cavern when they’d flashed inside. He cast Gabriella an apologetic smile, palmed the crystal key to the room, and they both blinked out in a narrow flash of white light.

“Sonofabitch,” she muttered, reaching up to grab the silver-linked choker from her neck that he’d used to subdue her and ripping it off. How could he do this, leave her in his bolt-hole, after everything she’d done to help him in his quest to usurp command of the vampires?

While he’d disappeared for hours, clutching the phoenix-creature he appeared to love against his chest, she’d helped round up the sabat, nipping at the council-members’ heels to herd them toward their rooms where Nicolas posted guards to keep them in lock-down.

Malcolm, Nicolas’s next-in-command, had led away Inanna’s private security force to the barracks for “debriefing” and posted their own men around the compound to keep things quiet while Alex’s closest advisors sorted through the chaos that was the aftermath of Inanna’s expulsion into Hell.

When Alex had at last returned, looking like he’d just had the sweetest sex of his life, Gabriella shook her fur, pulling on her human skin, ready to remind Alex about their agreement when his gaze fled up the staircase, again.

The look on his face, one filled with a mixture of impatience and tenderness, had made her heart sink. When she’d cleared her throat to remind him she was still standing there, another look crossed his face—one that had her backing up a step and stammering.

The collar had been a real kick in the ass. He’d pulled it from his pocket and apologized, all the while grappling her to the ground to loop the damn thing around her neck. “I swear. It’s just for now,” he’d ground out as she wriggled beneath him. “Just until I get everything sorted out.”

If he thought she’d be in any mood to talk to him, to negotiate a transaction to ensure the peace between their nations remained in place—well, he’d have to do a whole lot of begging, preferably on his knees and naked, before she agreed.
Read the rest of this entry »