Enjoy an excerpt from my one and only Christmas story! Post a comment and enter a drawing for a free download of Silent Knight!

“…The perfect holiday read! Delilah Devlin took a Christmas tale to a whole new level when she crafted SILENT KNIGHT.”
5 Stars, Heather, eCataRomance

“…[SILENT KNIGHT] is a sizzling hot vampire story tht will take you on a short escape — the perfect read for a busy holiday season. Sexy and fun, make sure Silent Knight is on your holiday “must read” list!”
4 Kisses, Karen Steele, Romance Divas

“Erotically decedent and thrillingly carnal, Noelle and Magnus’ story is enough to make a person self-combust with want.”
4 Roses, Angel, A Romance Review

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…
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