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Flashback: Jane’s Wild Weekend
Tuesday, March 1st, 2011

If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
for a free download of this book!

Hard to believe, but once upon a time I didn’t think I knew how to write a contemporary love story. No fangs? No space pirates? You mean, I would have to write about the characters and not the whizz-bang stuff? Well, fortunately for you, I figured out I’ve been doing that all along. Strip away the gadgets and the woo-woo and you concentrate on the love story. What happens in bed is the story, because sometimes, that’s where people fall in love.

“…Delilah Devlin is well known for her personable characters and intense storylines and she certainly doesn’t disappoint with JANE’S WILD WEEKEND!…This story had me smiling, tearing up, worried and wanting to hug them all…This is a wonderful heartfelt story that’s as exciting as it is emotional. A perfect combination in my opinion.” 5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

“…JANE’S WILD WEEKEND was a sinful page turning delight!!…The sex is hot!!!!!!! I highly recommend this book if you are looking for something different that is fun to read and has some wonderful characters. Ms. Devlin’s books continue to be favorites of mine.” 4.5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Jane wants Bruno…Bruno wants Cord…Cord wants Jane…but can everyone get what they really want?

Jane, fresh from a breakup, decides to seduce Bruno, one of the firemen next door, to restore her shattered confidence. But the trap she sets is sprung instead by his best friend, Cord. After she flees in embarrassment, Bruno makes a proposition too wicked for any good girl to consider, but how can she refuse the chance at not one, but two strapping firemen?

Bruno’s shared women with Cord before, but decides to use Cord’s attraction to Jane to break down his defenses for the ultimate threesome. Cord thinks he knows how this little tryst will go down, but he’s seduced into allowing Bruno intimacies this hetero guy has never before considered.

Note for Readers: You must be of legal age in your country of origin to read this excerpt.

Cord nearly groaned he was so relieved he hadn’t somehow blown it. Sliding deep into Jane’s sexy body had become an obsession. He braced his hands on either side of her shoulders, lifted his torso off hers, and slowly settled his knees between her thighs. “Put me inside you,” he whispered.

A soft, thin moan sifted between her lips and she slowly slipped a hand between their bodies, her fingers gliding between their quivering bellies to wrap around his cock. With their gazes tangling, she pushed him between her folds, pausing to rub the tip against her slick clit then pressed him downward until he prodded her opening.
Cord groaned and rocked his hips forward, shoving into her silky slit and driving deep.

Jane’s breath rushed out. Her mouth opened, but no sound escaped. Her knees rose on either side of him and she tilted her pelvis, giving him a straight shot, giving him permission to stroke deep and hard.

Cord gritted his teeth, wanting to savor the feel of her wet walls closing around him, wanted to wallow in the gentle convulsions sucking at his cock, pulling him inside. He wanted to be gentle, to get it right, but her hot, wet heat was doing a number on his self-control and he flexed and stroked deep and sure, his buttocks quickly picking up momentum.

He held himself above her, the muscles in his arms and backs thickening, defining, as a primal satisfaction, a need to mark and prove ownership, was fulfilled with each steady stroke. Sweat broke on his face and chest, and he dipped down to rub it on her breasts, growling when her nipples stabbed and she pressed closer.

Slipping one hand beneath her ass, he gathered her up. He crawled closer on his knees to gain leverage and power then shortened his strokes, banging against the open, soaked cradle of her thighs. The bed creaked, the headboard thudded. The sound only added to his growing excitement.

“God, Cord, harder…” Jane gritted out, her face flushing a deeper rose, perspiration beading on her upper lip. Her arms swept around him, her hands clutched his back, her fingernails digging into his skin.

Cord grunted, shifted his knees again and pounded, setting the bed rocking forward and back. He didn’t care if he knocked out chunks of drywall, he wasn’t stopping now, couldn’t slow down, couldn’t hold back.

Her pussy squeezed around him, long, rhythmic caresses that slid along his shaft, buttery cream churned up by the motion of his hips and the steady, quickening thrusts of his cock.

The bed dipped beside them and Cord stiffened, pausing mid-stroke to aim a killing glare at Bruno, who smiled and lifted a tube of gel, a short braided leather flogger and a blindfold.

Jane’s desperate gaze swung toward Bruno and a soft, pained laugh gusted from her thinned lips. “Your timing sucks.” Her hands tightened on Cord’s back for a moment, and then she lay back and let them fall to the mattress beside her as she drew deep, shattered breaths.

Cord pulled away, angry, frustrated, wanting to curse and throw Bruno out of the room, but his arousal pulsed—a current of sensual curiosity and heightening tension sweeping through him.

He didn’t like that Bruno’s return sparked his interest. But he wasn’t going to fight it. Jane lay pliant, sweating, her breath rasping. Bruno’s hot gaze swept her body, lingering on her spiked nipples, then clung to the sight of her pussy—wet, open, white streaks of her honeyed arousal glistening on her parted folds.

“Really think she needs the blindfold?” Cord growled.

Bruno’s lips twisted. “No, but you do, buddy.”

Snippet Saturday: The Moment
Saturday, February 26th, 2011

It’s your last day to enter the “Dress Elvis” contest! See Thursday’s blog for details. Comment to win! ~DD

“…The intense visuals, and impressions… the crack of the ice as the skiffs skim through the frozen waters, the colorful sea serpents that tunnel the icy depths, the frozen fortresses of New Iceland, and the seedy underworld of Karthagos all come alive in every sentence. As do the combustible romantic interludes of Dagr and Honora. Ravished is sexier, fleshier, and more mouth-watering than anything else that I have read from Devlin…” Fiendishly Bookish

“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 force her into submission.

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?

When Dagr stood inches from the woman, he glared down his nose. “Where have the men been taken?” he asked, adding a razor edge of tension to his softly spoken words.

The deepening furrow on her forehead said she didn’t like having to lift her gaze so high. But she didn’t step back. “What men?”

Dagr gave a low growl and crowded closer to her body. “We can play this game, but you will not win. Save yourself unnecessary pain.”

She arched a brow. “Will you beat me? Do you want an answer that pleases you or one that is closer to the truth?”
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Snippet Saturday: Love Scene
Saturday, February 12th, 2011

I’m off to Memphis for the weekend. I’ll be back with pics! Enjoy the snippets! ~ DD

A love scene is empty unless supercharged with emotion. And I’m not so particular whether that emotion is anger, lust, want, or need. However, when there’s sorrow in the mix, somehow the sex transcends. Read on and see what I mean. I fell in love with True here.

“I have a definite soft spot in my heart for the strong silent type and True in this story…that’s my kind of guy. A little rough around the edges that loves as hard as he works. Can I PLEASE have a True? Man alive.” ~ Taryn Elliott’s blog

“I thought the story behind True was fascinating; he is a captivating character. A delightful read.” ~ Sensual Reads

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…

Warning: It’s a Devlin ménage—expect men with stamina and not an ounce of mercy to behave like sex gods, and the lucky woman to love every minute of it. A little domination goes a long, long way…

Everywhere she looked was so masculine, so hard, that her fingers tensed and her mouth grew dry.

But it was his cock that made her want to weep. Thick, long and so aroused it lifted proudly from his groin—it reminded her of everything she’d lost. She missed sex, missed feeling a man thrust deep inside her body. Missed the heat, the gentle violence.

“You’re doing it again.”

His gruff tone coaxed a smile from her. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Killing the mood.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “Does it look like I’m worried?”
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Saturday Snippet: Winter Wonderland
Saturday, February 5th, 2011

Psst! Yesterday’s winner is at the bottom of this post!

What an appropriate title! Did Lauren curse us? This morning, the snow is still deep enough to warrant UGGs. Not that I have any ambitions beyond snuggling deeper into my Snuggie and watching cartoons with the kids. Maybe I’ll find my ambition again after a round of Fairy Odd Parents. 😀

“…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!

The shot went wild, but the horse gave a high-pitched whinny and reared, dumping the woman to the ground before bolting.

Drake threw down his rifle, swearing silently as he clomped on unwieldy snowshoes toward the figure lying like a spill of red paint against a white canvas. Her fur-lined scarlet cloak fanned around her slender body. He knelt in its folds to reach for the woman who had yet to open her eyes.
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Flashback: Uncovering Navarro
Friday, February 4th, 2011

If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
for a free download of this book!

I chose this excerpt today because Moses Brown’s on my mind. You see, he didn’t get a happy ending in Uncovering Navarro, and I think he needs one. In fact, I’m writing his story right now. And you won’t have to wait months and months to read it. But more about that another day. Enjoy this glimpse of Moses and his FB. Then be sure to comment so that you’re entered to win!

“UNCOVERING NAVARRO is an action packed, fast paced, scorching, erotic thriller. With delicious love scenes, wry humor and non-stop thrills, UNCOVERING NAVARRO is a guaranteed page turner that’ll delight the reader.”
5 Drops of Blood, Vampire-Erotica.net

”I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys stories of vampires and things that go bump in the night. UNCOVERING NAVARRO is an extraordinary read by an extraordinary author.”
5 Cups, Coffee Time Romance

Sidney Coffey, Seattle ‘s “News at Nine” girl, uncovers the scoop of a lifetime and her ticket into “serious journalism”. The only problem is — without proof, no one’s going to believe the victims of recent gang killings are in fact “undead” and vampires!

With her gut telling her there’s an even bigger story lurking beneath the surface, she decides to beard a reclusive vampire master in his den for an interview. But meeting the master only complicates things. For a woman with a voracious sexual appetite, the tall, dark and gloomy vamp proves an irresistible challenge.

When a reporter trespasses on his estate, Navarro is at first amused, then annoyed that the little baggage is close to putting together the pieces of a dangerous plot involving an old enemy and a group of murdered geneticists. To keep her safe, Navarro issues an invitation he won’t let her refuse.

“Sid, get that cute, little tail of yours behind the yellow tape, now!” Moses Brown bit back a grin at the look of pure irritation that crossed Sidney P. Coffey’s face.

“Hi there, Moses. Long time, no see.” She ducked back under the crime scene tape and turned, taking a moment to pull the white cuffs of her shirt from below the edges of her leather jacket.

She was stalling. Moses could almost see the gears turning over in her head. The woman didn’t know when to give up.

When she glanced his way, a smile was plastered on her face. “By the way, congratulations on the promotion, detective. The new suit makes your shoulders look even broader.”

His gaze narrowed. The only time she wasted a second on small talk was when she wanted something—bad. “Sid, you’re not gettin’ inside that house.”
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Saturday Snippet: Fight
Saturday, January 29th, 2011

Yes! I have two posts today. Be sure to see the one just under this for contest details!

Since the theme is “Fight”, I thought it might be fun to go way back—to my second book, the first in the My Immortal Knight series where you meet Dylan and Quentin for the first time.

“A wild romp of raunchy sex, laugh-out-loud humor, and suspense…” Romance Reviews Today

“Ms. Devlin’s take on the vampire world is unique and creative.” The Romance Studio

Love bites!

Emmaline Harris meets the perfect man at a Halloween party. After he rescues her from the unwanted attentions of another partygoer, she succumbs to his kisses and spends an evening engaged in wicked-sexy lovemaking. Sure she’s just a one-night stand, she tries to exit gracefully, but soon find she needs Dylan’s special skills when her world is turned upside down by a blood-drinking killer and his gang who target her for their next meal.

Dylan O’Hara only wants a night of passion to slake his sexual needs, but finds Emmy is a full-bodied, red-blooded siren whose innocence and humor draws this Master vampire like a moth to a red-hot flame. When Emmy attracts the attention of a serial-killing vampire, Dylan vows to protect her, but he fears he’ll lose Emmy once she discovers her “Dracula” has real fangs!

“Dylan, watch your back!”

At his friend’s warning, Dylan O’Hara spun on his heels and ducked beneath a sweeping claw. He feinted to the left, and then surged upward, slamming the creature into a damp brick wall. “You will heed me!”

Arms immobilized, the beast shuddered and bared its teeth, a flash of white in the scant moonlight penetrating the narrow alley.

In its most primitive form, the creature couldn’t understand him. Dylan sighed. This might take some time.

Behind him, wood splintered and metal rang against rock. “Quentin, you’d better finish your end quickly,” he shouted, careful not to look away from the vampire. “We’ve more problems waiting at The Cavern.”

“I’d be happy to oblige, but this one won’t release its prize.” Quentin grunted in accompaniment to the thud of heavy fists pounding flesh.

Dylan’s vampire renewed its struggle.

Battling his own mind-stealing anger, Dylan barely pulled his throat away from a mouthful of jagged teeth. He slammed the creature into the wall again. “I will outlast you, bitch.”

Intelligence glittered in the creature’s dark gaze, and then her features relaxed, morphing instantly from snarling vampire to the cotton-candy sweetness of a teenaged girl. “Mr. O’Hara, I’m so sorry. You can let me go now.”

The “Mr. O’Hara” made him feel at least a couple of centuries old. Dylan glared at the dark-eyed girl whose mane of curly, brown hair framed a pale face with sweetly bowed lips. “Who made you, little girl?”
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Saturday Snippet: Bad Mood
Saturday, January 22nd, 2011

Let’s see… It’s Saturday, so I must be in Mexico! I’ll be thinking of you, although you may have the last laugh. The forecast is for rain!

I know I’ve shown you this excerpt before, but when the topic for today was listed as “Bad Mood”, there wasn’t another scene I’ve written lately that better describes it. True’s an ornery, grumpy man. Enjoy! I’ll be back on Tuesday! ~DD

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…

Warning: It’s a Devlin ménage—expect men with stamina and not an ounce of mercy to behave like sex gods, and the lucky woman to love every minute of it. A little domination goes a long, long way…

True Wyatt prided himself on control—control over the multitude of responsibilities that came with riding herd over a successful ranch; control over his brother, who thought life should be enjoyed rather than conquered; and control over the desires he’d kept in rein since the demise of his marriage. And yet, the sight that greeted him this cold winter day told him he’d only been fooling himself.

From his perch high atop the ridge overlooking the lonely cabin, True Wyatt watched the shapely brunette as she made another trip to her car to pull boxes and suitcases from her backseat, one after the other. Grumpily, he wondered how she’d managed to stuff so much inside a Corolla. The trunk had held a similar assortment of printer-paper-sized boxes, which she’d manhandled into the house, her face growing rosy with exertion.

Despite the biting wind, she’d dispensed with her down coat and wore only a sweater with a crew neck, the sleeves pushed off her wrists. The dark blue knit hugged her upper torso, defining a lovely bosom and narrow waist. Every time she bent to pull out another box her designer jeans hugged her small rounded bottom, and his loins tightened.

Which annoyed the hell out of him. Fact was, he wished he could turn his horse away and pretend he hadn’t noticed trouble had arrived on his mountain. He knew exactly who to blame. His anger smoldered like hot coals ready to erupt into a full blaze. The clop of hooves approaching behind him carried just the fuel to add to the fire.
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