Tomorrow morning, bright and early, I’m driving to New Orleans with my mother and aunt to meet up with my cousin who’s flying in from Seattle for a little sight-seeing. I’ll be doing some (ahem) setting research, while the ladies and Cousin Dave have fun (wink-wink IRS). Oh, stop it! NOLA is my favorite US city. Any trip there is going to inspire a story. I’m taking my camera and notebook!
While I’m away, I have guests to keep you entertained:
Tuesday — Kaily Hart
Wednesday — Cathryn Cade
Thursday — Denise Golinowski
Friday — Paige Tyler
To help you decide to come back here every day to meet my guests, I’m running a new contest!
Tater Red’s Grab Bag & Elvis Contest
What can you win?
Every time I go to another of my favorite cities, Memphis, I hit this little shop on Beale street called Tater Red’s. I always buy the mystery brown bag filled with kitschy goodies. Here is the contents of one such bag (the stuffed King Daddy Blues Rat doll, a KDBR magnet, a pretty LOVE makeup bag, a strange monkey sitting at a Wall Street desk, a pack of playing cards, and a Tater Red’s address book. I added a magnetic Elvis doll for you to stick on your fridge and dress in new outfits.
Come on, you know you want my junk!
What do you have to do to win?
Post a comment on any blog posting from today until the contest ends. Each entry counts as another chance to win!
This contest ends in two weeks, April 24th!!
* * * * *
Today, I’m going to do a little shopping, pack, but definitely no writing, or very little. I am going to use this week to clear my head. Lots on my plate. Maybe more coming.
In the meantime, how about answering a question for your first entry in my Tater Red’s Grab Bag & Elvis Contest?
On a scale of one to ten (with one being not at all and ten being very much so), how superstitious are you?
Psst! Yesterday’s winner is named at the top of yesterday’s post! ~DD
* * * * *
New Release, Contest, and Book Giveaway!
Thank you, Delilah. It’s a pleasure to be a guest on your blog. I’m Randi Alexander and I write cowboy erotic romance. I’m published with The Wild Rose Press’ Cowboy Kink line. My second Cowboy Kink, Her Cowboy Stud, was released March 23.
It feels rather odd to be blogging about erotic romance on Easter Sunday, but I’m up to the challenge! We do celebrate Easter, a holiday to gather with community and family. The kids, though, love searching the house to find where the Easter Bunny left their baskets full of candy.
Since then kids are now ten (Miss Fussy,) eight (Little Man,) and six (Pink,) we enjoy finding creative and hard-to-find places to hide the baskets. Taped underneath the kitchen table, hung amidst the coats in the foyer closet, or inside the air intake grate.
We’ve found a way to get the kids to work together to find them. We mark each basket with either a circle, a triangle, or a square. Once all three baskets have been found, we let them know which one is theirs. That way it becomes a team project.
A few years ago, we had the brilliant idea of giving the kids a rabbit. First off, one tiny bunny rabbit and three kids—the little fluff ball was held so much that first week, I don’t think his tiny paws ever touched solid ground. Because he was tan and white, the kids settled on the name, Butterfinger Blizzard. (Blizzard for short.)
We built a big pen for Blizzard by the garden where the kids could hang out with him and feed him early spring vegetables. The day we thinned out the garden, we set all the culled seedlings in his pen, thinking it would take him a week to get through all of them.
What we didn’t realize is that rabbits will eat everything in front of them, especially if it’s fresh veggies. Two hours later the kids ran in the house, yelling, “Blizzard turned into a basketball.” Sure enough, the poor thing looked like a furry, multi-colored blimp. It took another day for his belly to return to normal size. Lesson learned!
Another year, my brother gave us three chicks. Rhode Island Reds. Tiny little things that the kids named Birdchick, Dog Face Peep, and Colonel (after KFC’s founder.) After a few weeks, we decided to return them to my brother’s farm and keep visitation rights. We don’t know exactly what happened to the three Rhodies, but I imagine the KFC scenario is probably accurate.
I’m laughing right now as I look out the window and watch Little Man using his remote control Jeep to chase Pink around on the trampoline. They’re very good at finding ways to amuse themselves, but I’m thinking their lives would be much enriched if we try the animal surprise again this Easter.
Will I be able to talk hubby into another addition to our family? Every kid needs a puppy, right? Wish me luck!
I’d love to hear your stories of Easter baskets hidden in bizarre places, or gifts of animals that either didn’t work out well or did work out and have made a difference in your life. Leave a comment for your chance to win an e-book!
Trace McGonagall’s quiet life on his Houston stud ranch is shaken up when gorgeous Macy Veralta arrives to claim an inheritance left to her in his uncle’s will. Trace sees her as just another gold digger, but he also can’t resist her curvy body. When she hints at being the perfect submissive to his Dom, he has to have her.
Macy wouldn’t have been three months late to claim her inheritance if she’d known Trace was sin in jeans. The cowboy’s dominant bearing and the smoldering glint in his eyes send shivers to her toes and stirs images of being bound in his bed and disciplined at his hand. But could Trace’s perfect seduction be part of his plan to reclaim her inheritance?
EXCERPT: I chose a romantic excerpt today, but if you’re in the mood for more spicy, the first chapter of the book is on my website.
Pulling Macy on top of him, Trace grinned. “You won the bet. Anything you want is yours. You just need to ask.” His heart gradually slowed to normal while his body tingled with a major afterglow.
She kissed his shoulder. “Anything?” Her voice purred.
He pulled a pillow under his head to look down at her, combed his fingers through her soft hair. He would give her anything. His house, his horse, his heart. “Name it.” Read the rest of this entry »
The winner of the free download of LOVE BITES (chosen by random number generator) is…Christine Houser! Congrats, Christine!
Be sure to email me to arrange delivery of your prize.
* * * * *
This was only the fourth story I ever published, but it remains one of my favorites. Largely because of Quentin—the bastard! He’s got a razor-sharp wit, falls like a ton of bricks for Darcy, and as you learn in later books, is ready to walk through hell to keep her. Enjoy the snippet!
“…congratulations to Ms. Devlin for creating a masterpiece. This story has all the elements that a Gold Star book has in it. The novel has intense suspense that was thrilling and delightful…” Gold Star Award, Just Erotic Romance Reviews
“… LOVE BITES is a delicious, emotional romp of a story, a tale that builds powerfully on the old, often-used love triangle and succeeds beautifully in creating something new and exciting.” Sensual Romance
On the trail of a serial killer, vampire Quentin Albermarle is mistaken for the killer by a police special task force. Once the smoke clears, Quentin finds himself in a delicious position—atop one of the unit’s crack officers, Darcy Henry.
In need of Quentin’s access to the vampire sub-culture, the task force leadership invites Quentin to join the crime unit as a special advisor, much to the chagrin of the men in the unit, and especially, of Darcy.
A no-nonsense cop with no time for romance, Darcy suddenly finds herself embroiled in a steamy love triangle between her mortal partner, Joe, and the handsome vampire. Going from abstinence to wantonness, she is unable to resist the two men’s relentless seduction or her own sensual curiosity about a vampire’s special “kiss”.
When the real killer threatens the life of someone close to her, Darcy makes a choice that forever binds the three of them together.
The radio crackled in Darcy’s ear. “Nicky and his crew just pulled into the marina,” the Captain said from the command post—the team’s van in the parking area. “Remember, we’ll wait to strike until he brings his men in to move the cargo.”
Thank God! She’d been afraid she would disgrace herself. The wait had been interminable. The storm that threatened to break over their heads had whipped up waves in the inlet, setting all the boats tied to the dock bobbing in the water. Her stomach pitched right along with them.
“I’m gonna barf if this doesn’t go down soon,” Phil moaned.
Soft chuckles sounded from seven mikes. Darcy commiserated with Phil. Glad she hadn’t eaten any dinner, she kept silent beside Quentin, nausea roiling in her belly and clammy perspiration breaking on her forehead. This was one stakeout she’d be happy to see the end of.
“Too many of Bets’ meatballs, Phil?” Emmy broke in, her voice full of sympathy.
“God, don’t mention it,” he groaned.
Above the sound of the gathering wind, footsteps echoed hollowly on the wooden planks of the dock. Quentin crouched so close behind her she felt his body grow rigid. It felt right to have him watching her back even though she still missed Joe. They’d taken up a position on the cabin cruiser tied next to Rupe King’s. Hunkered down behind the gunwale of the boat, they listened tensely for the order to move in for the kill.
Quentin had stuck to her like glue all evening. It was annoying, but sweet, how protective he was of her. And totally unnecessary. When things turned ugly—and they would—she’d be moving fast. She didn’t want to trip over him.
The rumble of voices sounded in the next boat, but they were too low to make out their words. There was a sudden burst of laughter and a door opened, spilling light from the cabin onto the dock.
Darcy rose up to peek over the rail, but Quentin’s heavy hand pushed her down. She turned to glare at him. “What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered angrily.
“Shhh.” He lifted his chin in the direction of the other boat.
Darcy saw one of Nicky’s boys on the bow with a radio next to his ear. “Tell them it’s clear,” the teen said.
Ignoring Darcy’s glower, Quentin whispered into his headset, “Get ready. Nicky’s given the all clear. The others will be closing on the boat.”
“Roger that,” Max replied quietly. “No one moves until I give the signal.”
With the team in position on neighboring boats and inside cars in the marina, the gang would be encircled in moments.
Darcy held her breath. Once the noose tightened, Nicky would react like a trapped animal. She’d seen the mayhem he was capable of when he held all the cards, now she’d get a glimpse of a monster in full rage. Read the rest of this entry »
I wrote my first romance novel about a million years ago. Since then I’ve penned thirty others, and I’ve loved every one of them. But eventually, when my kids ran away from home (a.k.a. grew up) I decided to try writing some other things. A lot of other things. I wrote a story about a talking cat (weird). I did a twisted Cinderella story (sad). I believe there was even an odd little tale about a Martian (super weird). Not to mention a host of other “stellar” ideas.
Meanwhile, I was in the market for a new agent. One of those agents read through my string of masterpieces like a real trooper, gave me a call, and informed me that she could sell the mystery. The mystery! The mystery? I was pretty sure I hadn’t written a mystery. I went through the list in my mind, made sure my talking cat wasn’t a mystery pet and said, “That’s great. That’s fantastic. Ummm, in your opinion, which one do you think might be a mystery?” She replied, “Unzipped.”
Hmmm, Unzipped wasn’t a mystery. It was about Christina McMullen, a sassy psychologist who has an ongoing love/hate relationship with sexy police lieutenant Jack Rivera. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was…maybe a romantic suspense or a chicklit or a…mystery? Okay. Well, thought I cleverly, if she could sell it as a mystery…then a mystery it was.
That was seven years ago. Bantam published Unzipped in 2005. Since then there have been six other Chrissy McMullen novels. Uncorked was just released, and after all this time I’m still not sure it’s a mystery. I mean, we have a feisty female lead looking for love in all the wrong places. We have a cop with a lot of attitude and a great assss…spect on life. We have romance, sexy dialogue, and secondary characters that I adore. Then again we do have a pretty healthy body count by the end of each book. So you tell me, is it a romance or is it a mystery?
I’m giving away an Amazon gift card to one much appreciated commenter.
Here’s a little video to help you decide about the genre.
And a small clue: Francois is actually a battery-run device that has appeared in several books and sometimes gives us quotes. I can’t resist snarky battery-run devices.
I know all jobs are stressful. We share many of the same stresses: family obligations, co-workers who drive us nuts (maybe not so much for me since I’m SELF-employed), the need to produce-produce-produce!
I haven’t been sleeping well. Lots of exciting things are maybe going to happen, and I can’t settle down until all the decisions are made and the contracts signed. And no, I’m not going to talk about what in particular has me so excited, because I don’t want to jinx it!
I have had several little excitements lately. Ones I can talk about.
1) The contract is signed for the Smokin’ Hot Firemen anthology I will edit for Cleis! And I already have 4 submissions!
2) I received acceptances for short stories I submitted to various collections: “The Long Ride Home” for Duty and Desire: Military Erotic Romance (Cleis Press); “Marmalade” for Girls, Girls Girls (Mischief); and “Soldier Girls” for Wild Girls, Wild Nights (Cleis Press).
3) We moved my daughter into the house across the road. Now, it’s just the boxes (which she and hubby can handle).
4) The dog my daughter rescued from the median in the highway gave birth to 9 healthy puppies.
All those things make me happy (maybe not the 9 puppies, so much! Why couldn’t it have been a manageable 4?), but there’s a ton of work I’m trying to get off my plate in case the more exciting things do happen. I finished the rough draft for Two Wild for Teacher yesterday. I’ll run through it a couple of times today, then ship it to my editor. She’ll be relieved. The book’s coming out next month! Then I dive straight into the sequel to Five Ways ‘Til Sunday. I believe it will be released in July, so I don’t dare drag my feet!
So, back to the not sleeping thing…
I have pills I could take, but I don’t like how I feel in the morning. The pool cooled off, so I can’t get my exercise there. I have to figure out a way to turn off my computer earlier in the evening and forget about Facebook, Twitter, and whatever else is happening in the blogosphere, just to let my mind rest. But you know, when things are hopping like this, my muses go haywire. Too many ideas screaming at me to write.
When you’re wired, what do you do to relax and fall asleep?
One of my favorite people on the planet is this lady, Cathryn Fox. We’ve known each other for years and have shared space in anthologies. She’s an all-round good person with a great book coming out next Tuesday, April 10th!
Public relations specialist Allison Cooper is more than ready to handle a career make-or-break assignment: to develop and market a charity calendar featuring hot men. Her only problem is Mr. July, a sexy cop who happens to be her ex-lover.
Trying to keep his image squeaky clean a must for her promotion raises all sorts of challenges, especially when this bad boy is throwing a little kink into her plan.
Image is the last thing on Carter James’s mind. He agreed to be Mr. July on one condition that during his promo month, Allison never leaves his side. He wants her back, and to make that happen he needs her undivided attention to teach him good from bad. Unless bad is what the lady wants
After excusing herself, she made her way into the back room, stopping at a few tables along the way to chat with her old friends. Happiness welled up inside her as she took a quick moment to catch up with the boys. She really did miss this place, and these men.
In the back she found Madison racking the balls, and Blaine had disappeared into the crowd. She couldn’t help but think that was a good thing. Unlike Carter who’d joined the force right out of high school, Blaine had joined later in life, and Carter always seemed agitated around the new rookie. Allison always assumed it had something to do with her, and the fact that she and Blaine went way back.
As she spoke quietly to Madison, detailing the events for next week’s launch at the beach, she could feel Carter’s eyes on her. It rattled her more than she liked to admit.
What would you do if a killer were hunting you? What if you’re child was the target? What if the killer was someone you knew?
What’s it like to look into the mind of a killer?
Ask any author who writes dark, romantic suspense and they’ll tell you, it ain’t no walk in the park at times.
I think even for writers who create fictitious killers it’s still a little disturbing to consider that there are really such depraved people living in the world amongst us. To make a believable killer you have to do your homework.
To quote Friedrich Nietzsche: He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
For me, I love to watch Forensic Files and 48 Hours Mystery on TV. You can gain a great deal of knowledge into the mind of a killer simply by studying old case files. I know it’s certainly been insightful for me.
So why do people kill? Well, most psychologists will tell you there are two fundamental reasons someone will take another life.
Love and money.
Both truly are the root of all things evil.
But there is another type of killer that is far more evil and cunning than all the others. He’s extremely intelligent. He can blend into society well enough to be your co-worker, your high school English teacher. Your neighbor next door. He lacks anything resembling a conscience. He’s a sociopath known as the serial killer.
The FBI estimates that today there are some 50 active serial killers working among us in the US alone. That’s a frightening statistic to consider.
For me, writing about the dark side of romance is both rewarding and challenging. The characters I create leave their mark on you and make it hard to move on to the next story.
And if they’re really chilling, they make it hard to sleep with the lights off at night.
I wrote my first romance novel about a million years ago. Since then I’ve penned thirty others, and I’ve loved every one of them. But eventually, when my kids ran away from home (a.k.a. grew up) I decided to try writing some other things. A lot of other things. I wrote a story about a talking cat (weird). I did a twisted Cinderella story (sad). I believe there was even an odd little tale about a Martian (super weird). Not to mention a host of other “stellar” ideas.
