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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I promised a contest! Be sure to leave a comment today, and you’ll be entered to win a free download of ANY of my Samhain or Ellora’s Cave ebooks! In the meantime, enjoy the excerpt. I had an amazing time writing Ravished by a Viking and it’s sequel (coming this Fall), Enslaved by a Viking. I hope you enjoy the excerpt, even though some of the aspects may feel unfamiliar because you haven’t been deep into the story and learned about the rich world I built. ~DD

“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 on RAVISHED BY A VIKING

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

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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.
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On January 4, 2011, Ravished by a Viking will release. It’s my first book with Berkley and the start of a new series. In the coming weeks, I’ll be looking for help from those of you who enjoy my books to get the word out. I’ll have a contest with some great prizes that will have a widget for you to proliferate. I’ll be giving peeks into the story to whet your appetites. If sales happen for this book, then I’ll get the chance to write more for Berkley. So whether you see more books from this world really does all depend on you.

If you’ve ever dreamed of fierce warriors, worlds filled with strange wonders and horrors, and love that endures terrible trials, I do believe I have the series for you. Here’s a first peek. And if you’d like to read a longer excerpt, you can go here: Chapter One

You can pre-order a copy here: Buy Link for Ravished!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The great hall of the Berserkir king’s keep was filled to capacity with the clan’s warriors. Light cast from the iron chandeliers high above the black marble floors gleamed on the muted metal-fiber composite of their armor and the steel nozzles of the laser-spears they held.

Birget stood among the Valkyrja contingent, which formed a half circle around King Sigmund’s throne. As his personal guard, they were the only females allowed inside the hall on this night. True to the traditional nature of the tiny band, they wore hammered metal breastplates over their modern, black uniforms, the gold outer plate embossed with the figure of Freya, their patron goddess, standing in her feline-drawn chariot. Because a truce had been called, their swords remained sheathed, their shields stayed locked inside the armory, and they’d left off their gold, conical helmets.

Word had come that Dagr, clan-lord to the Wolfskins, had been spotted off-shore, his plain, unadorned skiff sailing between the frozen peaks of Hymir’s Sea until he’d skidded onto the rocky beach beneath the fortress walls.
Soldiers had been dispersed to keep watch along the shore to find the rest of his floti, but strangely, none were spotted. He’d come alone.

“Has he gone daft? Or does he believe his own legends?” her sister Ilse asked, clutching her pike.

Dagr, the leader of the Wolfskin clan, struck awe in the hearts of all Berserkirs. His many fierce battles with their army had grown his stature to epic proportions, some even saying that Thor himself had bestowed his blessing on the sword of the great warrior king.

“Quiet, daughters,” Sigmund said. “Whatever brings him here alone cannot bode well for the rest of us.”

“We should capture him,” Birget muttered, unimpressed with the Ulfhednar warrior’s reputation. Dagr was a man like any other—complete with faults. “If he is stupid enough to enter this hall alone,” she groused, “we should enjoy the spectacle.”

Her father shot her a reproving look. “He comes under a flag of truce,” he said for her ears only. “We won’t dishonor our promise to leave him unmolested upon his arrival. We will listen to what he has to say—before we decide whether to detain him.” He gave her a little waggle of his eyebrows.

Birget suppressed a smile and straightened.

The large metal doors at the entrance of the keep creaked open. Bearshirt soldiers marched into the hall, the contingent surrounding the enemy king. When they parted in front of the dais upon which Sigmund’s throne sat, a tall black-haired warrior strode fearlessly from their center.

Birget’s breath caught, her incredulity forgotten. If her future husband was cut from the same cloth, she was doomed.

Dagr, the Black Wolf, stood taller than most of the Beserkir warriors around him. His thickly muscled body radiated strength the way the “pure light” did heat, blaring potent masculinity and power.

His features were harsh and colder than the gray stones cut from Odin’s Mountain peaks to build this fortress. Black brows sheltered deep-set, piercing blue eyes. The sharp-bladed nose, chiseled cheekbones, and square jaw reflected granite will.

Rustling sounded as the warriors inside the hall tensed, and Birget understood their anxiety. Yes, he might stand alone, but who would want to be the first to draw a weapon against such a man? He looked and dressed like a savage, like the legendary warriors from their shared past.

A black wolf’s head sat atop his long dark hair, the eyes of the dead beast seeming to glitter with menace. Bearskin cloaked his massive shoulders. A silver metal breastplate spanned his broad chest. His thick, muscular legs were encased in leather and fur, as were his boots.

His only weapons were the large, double-headed axe that peeked above his head from where it rested between wide shoulders, the famed sword that hung at one side of his hips, and a long, thick-bladed knife sheathed at the other. Primitive weapons, but no one now staring at him doubted he’d be deadly in a fight.

Fury emanated from every inch of his taut frame.

“Lord Dagr,” her father intoned, lowering his chin in a decidedly undeferential manner.

Birget wondered how her father managed to sound so confident when her whole body was strung tighter than a bow.

“My brother,” Dagr ground out in a deep, raspy baritone. “Is he with you?”

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

Enjoy! I still haven’t quite figured out how Garon will fit with my modern knights, but I’m sure it will come as I write more. Or perhaps, I should have a parallel medieval story running neck and neck with the modern knights’ stories. What do you think?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“…Maddie is a unique heroine that readers will love and Garon is an alpha hero that will thrill the readers. First Knight is the perfect erotic paranormal romance to start fires in the bedroom. Ms. Devlin gives the readers what they want and so much more. I loved First Knight and it rocked my world.”
5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews

“…Delilah Devlin is a wonderful author and First Knight is a good example of her amazing skill with the written word…All the characters come to life with their vivid descriptions…This is a tale of deep, true love with a little something extra! I enjoyed First Knight and think you will too!”
5 Hearts, The Romance Studio

“…It is both well written and entertaining, making it a complete joy for hard-core romance readers. I would highly recommend this to anyone who love their heroes edgy, and there heroines just as intense.”
Four Stones, Siren Book Reviews

While hiding her true identity, Maddie must seduce the mysterious Lord Garon to cement their marriage contract to ensure she won’t be returned into her lecherous stepfather’s care.

Fresh from Crusade in Palestine, Lord Garon has a secret he must hide, a hunger that must be fed, and a dark and uncertain future. Having shed himself of a fiancée he never met, he’s home to lick his wounds. The only thing he wants is a warm-blooded meal—but the new housekeeper is strangely insistent on giving him much more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Maddie shivered at the creaks and groans the portcullis made as it slowly rose. The rain-laden wind carried the noises and filled the silences in between with a howling that sounded like the hounds from hell had arrived at the castle gate.

Shouts outside the curtain wall had alerted them only minutes before of Lord Garon d’Albermarle’s arrival. With only a bliaut over her sleeping shift, Maddie stood on the first step of the keep, holding a tray with a goblet of wine, ready to offer a proper greeting to her overlord.

“Are you sure this is the way you wish to go about this, M-Maddie?” Egbert asked, fidgeting at her side.

She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth and nodded.

“It be on your head then,” he said, his always-mournful tone as dire as one of Father Ansel’s Sunday sermons. She sent thanks above that the cranky priest was away or her deception wouldn’t last past the introductions.

The clatter of dozens of hooves on the cobbled bridge beyond the gate filled the castle yard with thunder. From the encroaching darkness, the sounds were as ominous as the dark shapes looming on the gatehouse walls. The torches she’d ordered lit sputtered and flared, distorting and elongating shapes so the men riding through the entrance appeared as tall as giants.

Already tired and on edge because she hadn’t slept since a messenger had arrived, warning the castle of his lordship’s arrival days before, Maddie’s fevered imagination painted them darker and larger still.

“Be they devils?” Egbert asked, his narrow shoulders shaking. “No one travels on a night with nary a speck of light in the sky.”

“Hush!” The storm whipping at her clothing and the fatigue from months of worry over this very moment combined to make her hands shake and blackened an already foul mood.

The horsemen entered the bailey and a large figure separated from the contingent who approached the keep. As he drew closer, her fears weren’t eased one whit. The warrior sat atop a huge black destrier, forcing her to raise her gaze quite high to seek his face.
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NaNo Day 21:
Viking-2—2172 words
TW—1308 words

Post a comment and be entered to win a free download of this book!
Yesterday’s winner is named at the bottom of this post.

Enjoy this sneak peek!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

One for remembrance…one for healing…and one to seal her heart forever.

Chrissi Page has tried to find one man who heats her bed the way the Kinzie brothers did one shameful night years ago. She’s failed miserably, leaving her with no choice but to bank that inner fire—and keep a lid on her inner bad girl.

She’d been weak, unable to choose between three men who appealed to her in different ways. And when they’d confronted her as a tease, anger had boiled over into a passion so wild, she’s still trying to live it down.

Since that night, Ezra, Cade and Joshua have individually sown their wild oats with pretty much the entire available female population of Two Mule, Texas. Yet nothing erases the attraction they still feel for Chrissi. And when she ends up stranded on the road near their ranch, it’s their last chance to turn their mutual obsession into an unusual proposition.

One weekend, three on one. If she can’t stand the heat, they’ll let her go on with her life. And try to find a way to live with the hole she’ll leave behind in theirs.

Warning: A girl who thinks she can’t have it all, and three brothers who set out to prove otherwise. One on one, two on one, and three on one; bondage in the wild; a bit of riding crop action. And a pickup truck load of emotion.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Josh Kinzie watched the truck drive along the last hundred yards of gravel road before bumping over a cattle guard and into the fenced yard. He made out two figures in the cab—the bear-like figure of his brother and a slender, dark-haired feminine one sitting beside him.

Ezra had done it. Gotten Chrissi into the truck. With a little help from him. While Chrissi had been busy with Ms. Dunstan, he’d been busy making sure her radiator hose sprang a leak.

He pulled the reins to the right, whipping his horse around, and let out a loud “Yee-haw!” before racing toward the house. He pulled back when he neared the front porch and slid from the saddle to the ground in one fluid glide.

Cade sat on the top step, squinting against the sun as he watched the truck come to a stop. “We may still hit a snag, bro.”

Josh glanced back at the truck. The couple inside appeared to be arguing.

“Not a good sign if he can’t even get her out of the truck,” Cade muttered.

Josh snorted, not too worried. He remembered how Ezra and Chrissi bumped heads in the old days. “Ezra may not be one for sweet-talk, but he does have a way of makin’ the ladies do exactly what he wants. Eventually.”

Cade grunted. “Chrissi’s grown a metal-plated backbone.”

“Our girl’s all grown up.”

They shared a glance, but turned to the sound of a door slamming.

Ezra crammed his cowboy hat on his head and walked around the truck, his features stern and his jaw grinding.

The sound of a click made Josh choke down a bark of laughter. “Did she just lock him out of his own truck?”
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NaNo Day 20:
Viking-2—0 words
TW—0 words 🙁

Yes, very bad author, me! Not one single word. Did have fun though seeing the girls at the DSRA meeting yesterday! A really quick Sunday Report Card, then onto the fun stuff!

Back to the fun stuff!

Post a comment and be entered to win a free download of this book!
Yesterday’s winner is named at the bottom of this post.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“…Wicked. Hot. Decadently Sinful. That’s how I’d describe the latest installment in Delilah Devlin’s Lone Star Lovers series. You gotta love a hot cowboy, and I felt spoiled with not one, but four sexy men.”
Fallen Angels Reviews

“Blend all this together and what you get is explosive, emotional and endearing, something Delilah Devlin does better than anyone. This is hot, sexy fun and a heartwrenching trip…”
Whipped Cream Reviews

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…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Friday night, Shanna couldn’t get any closer to Bo unless she crawled inside him. She’d climbed into the cab of his pickup and slid all the way over the bench seat, lifted his arm and snuggled against his side. She was hot and cold and scared all at the same time.

Ever since he’d told her the Kinzies had agreed to share her, she’d second-guessed herself a million times. She’d even called Bo twice to tell him she wanted to cancel, that it was all a joke, but he hadn’t believed her either time. And here she was, pulling in front of the Kinzie ranch house, and her stomach was so taut she thought she might throw up.

The trip from her place in town to the ranch took only fifteen minutes, but she’d held her breath most of the way and felt winded.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Bo said, pulling her close and kissing her temple. He raised his arm over her head, put the truck into park and killed the engine. Then he turned back to her, his moss-colored eyes crinkling at the corners with his strained smile. “You don’t like something, all you have to do is say so. If you want to change your mind, just head for the door. I won’t judge you.”

Shanna gripped one of his hands and squeezed it, glad of the darkening shadows that hopefully hid the blush heating her face. “I can’t believe this is gonna happen, and that you’re okay with it.”

His eyebrows lifted up and down in a quick, wicked waggle. “Why wouldn’t I be? You want it. I want you happy.”

“That’s what friends do, huh?” she said, lifting her chin in challenge. “Find a group of men willing to gangbang their girlfriend?”

His sigh seemed to come all the way from his toes. “It’s not gonna be like that, Shanna. I swear, it’s not gonna feel dirty.”
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