Yes, multiples again! I can’t keep up. I hope you can! Click on the covers if you’d like to learn more about the books!

First, because I’m not the only author eager for this book to succeed…

Who can melt any woman’s heart with a single smile? The sexiest icon of all—a fireman!

They enter fiery structures with selfless courage–the very definition of the word “hero.” Women understand their allure… A soot-covered face, sweat dripping from hard, chiseled muscles, the sharp snap of suspenders—yes, only a fireman can make suspenders sexy! Delilah Devlin’s burning-hot book includes thrilling stories teeming with gorgeous firemen from some of today’s hottest romance writers. In “Saving Charlotte,” Sabrina York’s firefighting Dom rescues a woman tied to a red-hot bed; from Cathryn Fox comes “Temperature Rising” where a fire chief fulfills some very steamy fantasies; Elle James’s “Chasing Fire” sees a daring smoke-jumper parachuting into the hot zone of a forest fire then setting his girlfriend ablaze with erotic heat; and Magic Mike ain’t got nothin’ on Delilah’s own fireman-turned-exotic-dancer-for-a-night “Johnny Blaze.”

With a list of award-winning authors that includes Ily Goyanes, Shoshanna Evers, Adele Dubois, and Rachel Firasek, Delilah delivers tales of these courageous men sliding down their big poles to steal readers’ hearts! Smokin’ Hot Firemen imagines the romantic possibilities of being held against that massively muscled chest by a man whose mission is to protect and serve…

We are three stops into our blog tour. No prizes have been awarded yet, so there’s time to enter! Come join the fun!

July 15:  Erzabet’s Enchantments (Delilah)
July 16:  Nana Prah’s Blog (Maggie Wells)
July 16:  Promo  It’s Raining Books (Maggie Wells)

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The next installment of Crescent Moon releases today! If you’ve already purchased the serialized novel, no worries, more of the story will automatically download to your Kindle today. If you haven’t, well, why the hell not? Like mummies? Demons? Hot Nawlin’s cops?

From ancient Egypt to present-day New Orleans, a woman of exceptional strength is called to protect against an unspeakable evil…and to experience an unforgettable seduction.

Khepri still isn’t used to being The God’s Wife. The daughter of a common farmer, she’s more comfortable being friends with servants than employing a whole team of them. Being the wife of Amun affords her luxuries she only dreamed of, but her dreams are not always a haven…they are also filled with demons. Lately she’s had doubts about the role she’s been thrust into. She’s had yearnings for another sort of life, one where she’s loved intimately, rather than only adored from afar.

When a powerful man lures her away from her temple, she’s thrilled at the chance for an adventure. Her adventure quickly becomes a nightmare when the handsome vizier mummifies her alive. Pure of heart and body, she’s the warrior he foresees will battle a demonic pharaoh if ever he awakens. Khepri’s sure he’s insane, until she awakens in a distant future. Alone and needing a guide in this strange and garish new world, she turns to the troubled man who set her free…

When New Orleans police detective Justin Henry Boucher is called to the Garden Museum to investigate stolen Egyptian artifacts, it’s not exactly the adrenaline rush he used to get working a homicide. But with a reprimand on his record and a sorrow he can’t shake, he will take what he can get – as long as he can keep his badge. What he doesn’t count on is having to keep his cool when he finds one of the priceless artifacts—a golden-skinned goddess wrapped in fabric like a mummy, left to die and needing his help. She’s a mystery he’s determined to unravel. She might also be the cure for his lonely heart.

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And here comes the next collection of my own personally written short stories. Follow the links and see what readers are already saying…

From National Bestselling Author, Delilah Devlin, comes another naughty collection of seven bedtime stories—a week’s worth of nighttime reading pleasure.

Ride along with two soldiers, just returned from war, who find sweet release in “The Long Ride Home.” In “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn,” a woman has one last fling with two sexy construction workers. A cowboy kidnaps his “Runaway Bride” to get some sweet satisfaction. A woman travelling alone in Europe enjoys a hot steamy sauna in the “Textile Free” zone. In “Love in Bloom,” a florist tempts her high school crush. A naughty nooner with an office colleague ends in a “Quick Draw.” A dispatcher kicks inhibitions to the door when she seduces a younger truck driver in “Drive Me Crazy.”

Four of the stories have appeared in separate Cleis Press anthologies. Two of the stories were featured in Penthouse magazine! All the stories are featured in one sinfully hot collection…

Safeword – When to say No

Most people these days, thanks to Fifty Shades and other books about BDSM, have heard the term safeword. It’s a word normally employed by a “bottom” or “submissive” to stop whatever scene, session or activity they are involved in. It can be a word like red, and for some it can be a sound, like snapping your fingers. Cause if you’ve got a gag in…well you get my point. J

When I write BDSM stories, all of my characters (so far) have used a safeword. I like the idea of having a word that will call a halt to everything happening around them. No matter how emotional a scene, or physically demanding the sex is, there’s a way for each of my submissives to get out.

Why do I give them a safeword?

So they don’t use it.

On the surface, a safeword is a get out of jail free card. Sometimes literally depending on how tied up one of my characters is. Using a safeword is the ultimate safety net, but the meaning behind it gives my subs complete power.  They can take, or refuse anything their Dom(s) demand. Being strong enough to accept it to me is uber sexy.

Submitting involves more trust than most people can even comprehend. It’s scary and exhilarating and will leave the characters floating in a sea of sensation so poignant they’re hooked from the words, “Give me your hands.”

Having a safeword to use allows my characters to believe they are safe, that they can enjoy the scene but stay removed enough not to fall into the rabbit hole of BDSM. If they’re with the right person, there won’t be any stopping the fall.

So why would someone use a safeword? They’re scared. Overwhelmed. In pain. Notice I put pain last. That wasn’t an oversight. Pain can heighten a scene. It’s a way for a Dom to hyper-focus their submissive on a certain part of their body. It can aid a submissive in switching off their brain, allowing them to feel each and every touch as if it would be their last.

Something a lot more of us could benefit from.

That connection.

BDSM allows you to sink below the surface of vanilla into flavor after flavor of naughty excitement meant to curl your toes and steal your voice.

I want my submissive characters to be strong, vivacious, intelligent people able to stand toe-to-toe with their Doms everywhere including the bedroom.

Tied to a whipping bench, strapped to a table, or even suspended from a steel a-frame using nothing more than 6mm silk rope. In all of these scenarios the sub still has the power.

The minute their safeword enters the room everything is over.

What I love about erotic BDSM romance is the physical, emotional and sometimes spiritual connection the characters have. It’s that connection during sex that sets my heart racing. Trusting their Dom that they know what they crave even if they don’t think they’re strong enough to endure.

What is the ultimate power exchange?

Having a safeword…and not using it.

Members Only, Book One

She knows it’s wrong. Cyn shouldn’t have feelings for fraternal twins Jared and Chris, her best friends. She shouldn’t want them to tie her up or strap her down, to take her one at a time—or together. The only way to control her taboo desires is to write them down and lock them away in her diary. Guys like Jared and Chris could never be interested in someone like her, or in the kind of sex she craves.

But Jared and Chris have read her diary, and sweet little Cyn is in for the shock of her life. The brothers not only own a members-only BDSM club, they want her. Need her. And now, with their unlimited funds and an entire establishment devoted to fulfilling her darkest pleasures, they’re going to claim Cyn for their own.

Inside Scoop: If you have a kink, this book probably has it too. If you like your ménage romances extra hot with a side of male-male romance, spanking, voyeurism and girl-on-girl action, come and get it.

A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Buy Links below and others on the TIC webpage

Amazon | Ellora’s Cave | Barnes and Noble

“So, Cyn, why aren’t you fucking anybody?”

I sucked a mouthful of beer down the wrong pipe, sputtered and coughed my way through it and nearly knocked over the glass bottle as I got it under control. The beer anyway. After wheezing through another breath, I moved my drink aside. The last thing I needed was a wet spot in my lap. “Where in the hell did that come from?” Read the rest of this entry »

First, I just want to thank Delilah for having me on her blog. I went to the RT Booklover’s Convention in May in Kansas City. Not only did I get to hear Delilah present on a panel, I got to eat some great BBQ.

My first three historical romances are about people in the 1880s. It just sort of happened that way. When I started writing, I didn’t find modern times to be all that romantic (I’ve changed my mind since then). However, in choosing a historical setting, I wanted a time period when folks were modern enough that I could identify with them, while getting to dress my characters in lovely and dashing clothing. Corsets, stockings, and waistcoats, oh my!

Then, I got to know Americans in the second half of the nineteenth century. Let me tell you, they were as nutty as peanut brittle, despite masquerading as genteel, thoughtful, refined Victorians. Their ideas on medicine and health would be funny if some of them hadn’t been so harmful. OK, they’re funny anyway. Let’s start with the truly clueless.

You’ve probably all heard about “female hysterics” and the weekly “pelvic massages” that doctors gave their patients. Haven’t you? Step right up and let the good doctor charge your husband his hard-earned money to bring you to hysterical paroxysm (orgasm). Dr. Swift in California made convenient home visits, rather than making suffering ladies take a trip to the office :

((This work has been identified as being free of known restrictions under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights. Published in the US before 1923 and public domain in the US.)

For this affliction—classified by too many symptoms to note here—women could also be put away in a mental asylum against their will by well-meaning family members. I’d take the pelvic massages over the asylum. In 1883, British Dr. Granville developed the “perceteur” or mechanical vibrator, and the rest, as they say, is history.

For something more serious, take a look at these incredibly effective drops for instantly curing toothache:

(This work has been identified as being free of known restrictions under copyright law, including all related and neighboring rights. Published in the US before 1923 and public domain in the US.)

I bet people started having toothaches quite often and decided to skip a trip to the dentist in favor of a trip to the drug store, or “druggist.” Speaking of which, Bayer had a Heroin brand of cough medicine, containing diacetylmorphine as suppressant. By the turn of the century, Bayer was producing a ton of heroin per year, as well as a ton of heroin addicts. Those crazy fun nineteenth-century people! Read the rest of this entry »

Update! Saturday’s winner is Jen B!

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Today’s theme is life in a big city. Memphis is the closest big city to me. I can’t count Little Rock, because it’s more of a sprawling big town than city, at least to me. You get a glimpse of Memphis, the seedier side, in the first chapter of Lost Souls. I posted a couple of the first reviews right at the top. If you’ve been wavering, wondering if the story was for you, see what other folks are saying. It’s a good, emotional, exciting read, even if I do say so myself!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a $5 Amazon gift certificate!

“A sexy, fast-paced story of love, redemption, and one scary-as-hell demon. Lost Souls dares you to put it down (you’ll lose) as it nimbly walks the line between heart-pounding romance and paranormal thriller. Cait has fast become one of my favorite heroines as she learns to use her powers, fights her all-too-human weaknesses, and learns the gut-wrenching truth that sometimes, to save someone you love, the cost doesn’t matter.” —Susannah Sandlin, author of the Penton Vampire Legacy trilogy

“Ms. Devlin yet again, delivered a good balance of romance, nail-biting scenes and an exhilarating story line. But what had me captivated was the emotional aspects of this novel…Shattered Souls was exhilarating in its storyline, Lost Souls’ strength was in its gut-wrenching and heart piercing events…Nothing but praises for this book, simply a job well done.” —Under The Covers, 5 Feathers/Top Pick

Fan favorite Delilah Devlin delivers her second paranormal romantic thriller featuring unforgettable heroine, Caitlyn O’Connell. This time, the psychic PI joins her police detective ex-husband to find a demon pulling women into the past to commit their murders in a seedy Memphis hotel.

Private Investigator Caitlyn O’Connell is tapped by Memphis PD to discover who has been using a Memphis hotel as his killing ground. Women are going missing, and their bodies are found inside the walls of the hotel. But the bodies themselves? They appear to have been murdered in the distant past. With ghosthunters and cops crawling all over the crime scene, Cait and her detective ex-husband Sam Pierce race to find the demon responsible before he kills again.

Darkness sank as murky as the sultry summer air, as heavy as a blanket pulled over a child’s head to hide the monsters lurking in a shadowy closet. Street lamps popped and sizzled, darkening then lightening, but failing to flare bright enough or long enough to chase away deep pockets of inky black. Cait was creeped out, since all she had were glimpses of silvery light from a full moon rimming buildings and casting deeper shadows to cloak alleyways and doorway stoops.

Another full moon. An event she was acutely aware encouraged monsters, both human and supernatural, to come out and play. Edgy and beyond bored, she almost wished for something out of the ordinary to happen, but then quickly changed her mind. The last time her job had given her a real challenge she’d battled a demon in an attic while a wraith latched its freezing fingertips around the man sitting beside her, slapping him around like a rag doll.

For just a second, she relished that last memory. At least Jason had been awake.

For the umpteen thousandth time that night, Caitlyn O’Connell sighed. This time exaggerating the sound. Loudly. Actually, more of a groan than a sigh. A sound that invited Jason Crawford, lying back in the seat beside hers, to wake up and keep her company. She was bored as freaking shit. Surveillance was the one part of her job she truly hated. In fact, she thought she might like having her ingrown toenails cut better than sitting in a dark alley waiting for something to happen.

The weather irritated her even more. Although she’d stripped down to a tank top and jeans, the insides of her boots were damp from the oppressive summer heat. Not a trace of a breeze stirred, and they’d shut off the sedan’s engine to be able to hear vehicles approaching, so the AC sat silent.

What good was having magic if she couldn’t even muster up a spell to start a breeze? She’d tried waving, punching, wiggling her nose, but nada. Worse, she’d tried to come up with a poem to appease The Powers That Be, but hadn’t found a line that sounded even remotely elegant with “wheeze” tacked on the end.

She supposed she’d used up her last favor asking for intervention with Worthen’s monstrosity, the Civil War–era demon resurrected in his tomb, for which she’d had to beg The Powers and a certain sorcerer for help defeating. Or perhaps they didn’t like how she’d ignored Morin since she’d fought the demon and won. Whatever. She was a PI, not a witch. And right now, she had a job to do.

So why couldn’t she and Jason be watching the Peabody Hotel? Or any of the nicer hotels in the downtown area? The Deluxe Hotel was anything but deluxe. The marquee above the entrance was missing a few letters and read, DELUXE HO, which on second thought appeared apropos for the sleazy dive.

The whole area had an aura of neglect. Trash overfilled bins and cluttered the gutters. Worse, a small tattered sign was taped to the hotel’s glass door: AA MEETING, 9 PM SATURDAY.

Mocking her. The very thing her ex-husband, and now sometimes boyfriend, had been nagging her to locate. Read the rest of this entry »

Like any writer, I love to read. I was a reader way before I was a writer, but I didn’t come to romance until I was out of college. And then I couldn’t get enough. I started with historicals, buying them at the grocery store and Target and Walmart. Then I discovered used book stores and started stockpiling books. I ALWAYS had bags of books to trade in, and by the time the store closed, I had credit like crazy.

Then I discovered Paperback Swap, a website where you can request books, in exchange for sending off books of your own. There were wrappers to print, and I probably spent a billionty dollars in stamps and the mailman hated me because I was always sending or receiving books (and my mailman has to walk!)

Next I discovered Amazon and its one-click evil. Now the UPS guy hated me, but I was able to preorder the books I wanted.

And then I got my first iPhone. I was so excited because even though I was an ebook author, I didn’t have a way to read ebooks! Now I could order Kindle books or Nook books. I discovered Fictionwise and its wonderful, wonderful discounts. I still have books from them that I haven’t read, lol!

But one of the joys I found with ebooks was novellas! My grandmother would always get  those collections, you know, the anthologies that come out at Christmas? That seemed to be the only time you could get novellas in print form. One author–I think it was Julie Garwood?–released 4 tiny print books, then a novel. They made a movie about the series. Brothers and an adopted sister. Anyone remember that?

ANYWAY, back to novellas. I LOVED reading novellas. Most of the time they just focus on the romance, which is, after all, while I read romance. I mean, I love a meaty historical, and a twisty romantic suspense (not too gritty, please), but sometimes I just want a quick happy ending.

I love writing novellas for the same reason—I focus on the romance and can get my characters to a happy ending all the faster.

I’m writing a series now about a group of hot shot firefighters, starting with the by-the-book crew chief who falls for a rookie on his crew in All on the Line, available at Amazon  and BN.com.

Jaci Nichols thinks nothing can make her feel as alive as fighting wildfires–man against nature, standing up to danger every day.

Until her crew chief, Cal Sinclair, kisses her after a close call on the fire line.

Wow.

Now she’s craving more, but he wants to keep his distance.

Cal Sinclair doesn’t want to screw up his first year as crew chief, so he keeps his distance from the members of his hot shot crew. Hard to do when the sexy rookie gets under his skin. Something about her draws him, and makes him want to put it All on the Line.

The second book came out the weekend the Granite Mountain Hotshots died. Standing on the Line is also available, and Crossing the Line will be out this fall.

Do you like novellas, or do you prefer more meaty stories? What kind of novellas do you like to read?

The power was out last night. A storm thundered through. The lights blinked out, but my UPS kept my PC going for another half hour. Eventually, I had to power off and join the rest of the unconnected world. The outage started at around 9 PM and didn’t end until 6:25 this morning. After which it popped on for about 5 minutes—long enough for me to surface and send a message that yes, I’m alive, before it winked out again. I spoke to soon. 😐

I’m comfy again with the AC running. I don’t like to sweat for no good reason, so I’m grumpy today. I have tons of catchin’ up, but thought I’d pop in and tell you about two blogs you don’t want to miss today.

If you’re not following the Smokin’ Hot Firemen and High Octane Heroes blogs, you’re missing out!

Today on Smokin Hot Firemen, my sister Elle James is talking about smokejumpers and offering a very nice prize package to one lucky winner! All you have to do is drop by and comment!

At High Octane Heroes, Leah Ridgewood is talking about her beloved San Francisco—and giving away three books to EVERYONE! You know you don’t want to miss that! The least you can do is stop in and say Thank you, Leah!

I couldn’t have been more excited when Delilah selected “Saving Charlotte” for inclusion in the Smokin Hot Firemen collection. And why? Not just because it was a great opportunity to write a hot story about firemen (although, let’s be honest—that was at the top of the list!). But I actually had to go and interview a fireman.

In person.

And yeah, he was in full uniform.

*Drool*

There is just something about a muscular man in suspenders…

It took me a while to think of an excuse to interview my smoking hot fireman, but I’m a creative person, so I pulled it off.

In my story “Saving Charlotte,” Mark Connor finds this gorgeous woman tied to a bed in a burning building. He needs to cut her free, and in a hurry.

My question for my hot fireman in suspenders was this: Do firemen have cutting tools on their belt, and are they issued by the fire department, or can they have their own.

His answer was awesome. They do, in fact, carry cutting tools, and they can bring in their own. He went on, at length, about the different kinds and why he preferred the one he had.

It was so much fun to listen, although, I must admit, I have no recollection of what he said.

I was too busy watching his lips move.

And drooling.

Excerpt from Sabrina York’s “Saving Charlotte”

Mark Conner fought his way through the smoke and flames to the third floor of the apartment building. A skitter of concern writhed in his gut. This fire was moving fast. Despite the nearly fifty pounds of equipment, he picked up the pace and motioned to Izzy to do the same.

According to the wailing mother on the street, there was a child still trapped up here.

Two doors flanked the top floor landing. Without discussion—they hardly needed it anymore—Izzy turned right and Mark turned left. In tandem, they kicked the doors in. Mark angled his flashlight and scanned the smoky living room. Nothing.

Smoke roiled around him; sweat prickled his brow. There wasn’t much time.

Then he heard a faint cry. He shouldered his way down the hall and into the bedroom…and froze.

A second was far too long to stare. Lives could be lost in a second. But the sight that greeted him nearly brought him to his knees. A sudden, inappropriate lust snarled through him. He forced it to the back of his mind. For later.

He’d expected a small child, coiled in a corner.

Not an exquisite angel bound to a bed. Read the rest of this entry »