Setting is about more than where or when a story takes place. An author strives to place the reader in this other world and immerse them inside it. This is the prologue from Ravished by a Viking, where I introduce Eirik who is making a very grave mistake, one that launches his brother Dagr on a daring mission to rescue him, and which continues in the next story, Enslaved by a Viking. The last line of this excerpt is what “seals the deal” so far is Fatin is concerned. Enjoy sinking into the setting with New Iceland Vikings!

“With the intriguing meshing of the past with the future this was an engrossing read…”
Top Pick!, Night Owl Reviews

“A steamy and fascinating adventure…”
Romance Reviews Today

“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

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?

Eirik Ulfhednar glared into his opponent’s reddened face and adjusted his hand, just a slight movement to improve his grip, and then bore down with all his might. The muscles of his forearm and bicep burned. A spike of adrenaline seared his blood.

Harald, who had boasted his prowess over drinks, didn’t seem so confident he’d win this contest now. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a feral snarl, but his bushy red brows rose, betraying his surprise that the man in front of him, so much younger and more privileged than he, hadn’t already crumpled.

A smile eased up the corners of Eirik’s mouth, and he narrowed his eyes. He would prove he was every inch his brother’s equal and deserving of respect from the crew at the mining camp. Respect that they’d denied him since his arrival that afternoon.

However, respect had to be earned from these fierce, rough men. An accident of birth didn’t grant an Ulfhednar, a Wolfskin, any special favors inside this clan. Further, Eirik’s status wasn’t helped by the fact that the last time he’d visited the camp, he’d been a gangly teen with blemishes on his face, tagging behind his elder brother.

But Eirik wasn’t a boy anymore. This challenge was a good place to prove it.

Without a hint to warn his opponent, Eirik opened his jaws and yawned, then squeezed harder around Harald’s huge fist and slammed it into the table.
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NaNo Day 1:
LR—409 words—and finished draft!
DD—1303 words

The annual NaNoWriMo challenge starts today! 50,000 words in one month, which breaks down into 1,666 words a day, I think. I’ve done this four times. I’ve succeeded three of those four. At the end of every day, I’ll be back here posting my wordcount totals for the day, just to keep me honest. If anyone wants to “friend” me on the NaNo site, my handle is DelilahDevlin.

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

This book was a labor of love. I worked with two writers I admire, Kim Kaye Terry and Vivi Anna, to create a trilogy of stories that were tightly interwoven. In my story, I got to travel into the Greek Underworld with a gargoyle and wrote great sex with Hades. What greater adventure could a writer hope for?

“…STONE’S EMBRACE is a wonderfully descriptive story…The mix of Greek mythology with Christian elements is intriguing and adds to the subtle layering of eroticism and exoticism…this story is fantastic and a super-hot read!”
~5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews

“…The sex in the book was off the charts hot!…It was a wonderfully different story with a strong characters and a fun plot that left this reviewer breathless!”
~5 Stars, Just Erotic Romances

Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a genetic double whammy—a strange deformity and a shameful power inherited from the father she will never know. The power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch.

Exploring the garden of the mansion she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its broad chest. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all.

They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…

Warning: Sex with inanimate objects, lusty m/m/f ménages with gods…it’s all good when the reward is freedom.

The letter had arrived only a week ago accompanied by a bank draft to cover the expense of her journey. Petra Pedersen’s father was dead and his house was to be divided among three sisters.

Sisters Petra hadn’t known about but was intensely curious to meet. Would they share more than a father’s claim on a birth certificate?

Her mother had spilled what little she did know about Jean-Paul’s past in an effort to dissuade her from coming. Beatrice had been aware of the first child, Dominique, who’d been born to a witch. It was her birth that had instigated Jean-Paul’s flight to Europe because, until that moment, he hadn’t believed the curse a Haitian priest had put on him when he’d refused to impregnate the priest’s disfigured daughter. Jean-Paul was cursed to father only females and each girl would bear the priest’s mark.

The evidence clear in his first daughter’s dark, mutated gaze had frightened him.

Determined to break the curse, he’d traveled, seeking a healer’s magic. He’d found her mother.

Beatrice hadn’t been able to resist the handsome stranger’s allure. She’d been raised in a good Christian in a small village. Magic didn’t exist except in fairytales. Never mind she’d been born with her own magical gift. A healer in a long line of healers, she’d assumed the gift came from God.

When her own daughter was born, despite the evidence of her daughter’s deformity staring back at her every day of her life, she’d still believed Petra’s gifts would be like her own. Jean-Paul had known better, fleeing shortly after the birth.

But her mother had clung to her belief—until she’d taken Petra along to tutor her as she plied her craft, laying on hands to heal. She’d been horrified to discover that Jean-Paul’s curse had changed her gift from something good into something dark and twisted.

Petra had been sheltered ever since. Kept away from others to prevent a chance touch—worn a contact to hide her evil eye. But the whispers surrounding her hadn’t stopped.

Women in their village eyed Petra as though she were a demon come to steal their men. The men’s gazes followed her everywhere she went as they wondered whether the stories were true—if her touch could enflame a man beyond control. They didn’t seem to fear the curse, and instead, sought excuses to rub up against her in the market or at church.

Her touch incited men to lose their minds to lust. To rape. Inevitably, she and her mother had been forced to move and start again. She’d donned gloves to prevent accidental touches.

Now, she stared down at her hands and wondered if her sisters would be immune and whether they’d inherited a different sort of curse.

“You sure this be the right place, cher?”
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Psst! The winners of the Authors After Dark Grab Bag and the first Promo Ho
$25.00 gift certificate are listed at the bottom of this blog!

Thought you might enjoy a little glimpse of “Drive Me Crazy”, which will be featured in Cleis’s Best Erotic Romance, due out in December. Enjoy!

Just a glimpse of him standing in profile, arms crossed over his well-developed chest and leaning his firm, round butt against the dispatch counter, was enough to shore up my weakening resolve. Dressed in faded blue jeans, a black, chest-hugging t-shirt, and a red Razorback ball cap turned backwards on his dark shaggy hair, he was every woman’s blue-collar fantasy. My mouth dried as I glanced down his tall, muscled frame. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t want one night with all that ripped hotness?

And that’s all it could be—one night. I’d waited until the last possible moment to make my move.

The midnight drive to the dispatch office had given me plenty of time to argue my way out of what had seemed like a good plan earlier when I’d realized that the planets had aligned to give me this one last chance to fulfill my long-standing fantasy.

There’d never been the right time. For the longest time, I was married. When my husband dumped me, Danny had been living with a woman with two kids, and seemed to be heading down a straight road to marriage.

We’d flirted; he’d issued lazy invitations for dates or a quickie at the Motel 6 down the road. But I’d never detected even a hint of serious interest. If something was going to happen, I had to be the one to make a move. Today had been my last day at Henderson Transport. It was now or never.

All the reasons why I was crazy to consider it fell away as I ticked through them in my mind:

He’s too young—He’ll be happy because I won’t have any expectations, I said to myself. Well, none beyond a really good time.

I’m management and he’s a driver—Midnight had just ticked past, so not true anymore. We were both free agents. Both consenting adults. All he had to do was say yes.

“You’ll never see him again,” I muttered under my breath as I rubbed my cold hands together. “If he turns you down, you won’t have to live with his smug smile.”

I sucked in a deep fortifying breath, adjusted the neckline of the red Lycra top to show my breasts to their best advantage, and pushed through the glass door.

His head turned at the sound, and then he straightened away from the counter and dropped his arms. “You cuttin’ my route, Angel?”

I gave him a crooked smile. “Think I’d do that and ask you to wait for me here in the middle of the night?”

His brows drew together, curiosity glinting in his gaze before it dropped to my boobs. I’d worn a bra that pretty much left everything sitting on a shelf. My nipples were outlined against the red, stretchy fabric of my top, the tips spiking because I’d given them a little tweak before I’d exited my car.

His frown deepened. “What’s this all about Angela?”

I cleared my throat and tried for a sultry look. “I think you know.”

He cocked his head and looked me up and down again. Slowly. “You don’t have to hijack a man’s keys to get his attention, sweetheart.”

I planted my hands on my generous hips. “Apparently, I do, because you sure as shit haven’t followed through on any one of your invitations.”

His lips twitched. “I thought you flirted like that with all the guys.”

“You ever see me do it? Even once?”

His jaw tightened. Fatigue showed in the shadows under his eyes. Stubble clung to his craggy cheeks.

I felt a momentary twinge of guilt over the fact I was keeping him from his bed, but that was all I’d allow. He was young and hot as hell. If he needed sleep that damn bad, he could tell his latest squeeze to come around another time. Tonight, he was mine.

“My keys weren’t in the lockbox. I know I left ’em there.”

“You did indeed,” I said nodding. Then I looked him up and down, making sure he hadn’t mistaken my intent. “Fact is, I have an itch that needs scratchin’ and I’m hopin’ you’ll help me out.”

I tried to exude more confidence than I felt, but lost my nerve on the return trip up his hard body. I paused and swallowed hard, then gave a little cough to loosen the knot lodging at the back of my throat. When I reached his mouth, he was grinning..

Shit.

“Angela, is there somethin’ you want?”

You, preferably naked and tied spread-eagle on a bed so you can’t stop me nibbling every edible part of you.

“Angela?”

“Is there something I want? Yeah, there is.”

“Then just say it.”

But I couldn’t. I felt foolish enough. I reached into my purse and drew out his key ring. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken this so far.”

“You made me wait half an hour, when I could have been home, showered and in bed. You know how long I’ve been out this time.”

“I know. I arranged the schedule.”

Still, he didn’t take the keys.

I took a step toward him and had to tilt my head to maintain the lock on his gray gaze.

His hands settled on my waist.”You want somethin’, sweetheart?” he repeated, his voice lowering to a sexy rumble.

I squeezed my eyes shut, prayed for courage and that the blush staining my cheeks would fade. “I want you,” I said, then opened my eyes.

His grin widened. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Matter of fact it was.”

He bent toward me, his gaze narrowing on my mouth, but I turned away my face. “Not here. Your rig.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he pushed me gently back. “After you. You know where I’m docked, and you have a key. Let yourself inside and get comfortable. I’m hittin’ the locker room for a quick shower. I smell like diesel.” He turned on his heel, giving me another view of that backside I’d drooled over for months.

A moan slipped from my mouth, and I heard a chuckle as he pushed through the door and left me standing weak-kneed in his wake.

The winner of the Authors After Dark Grab Bag is…Janice Peruzzini! The winner of the first $25.00 Amazon.com gift certificate for being a stellar Promo Ho is…Crystal Hynds! Ladies, email me at del…@delilahdevlin.com to arrange delivery of your prizes! Congrats!

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

TGIF! Not that it means much to me anymore. Whenever I crawl out of bed is the start of my day. And I’m never installing a webcam at my desk because then you’d know I write in sweats with my hair spiking around my head and not a stitch of makeup. Very unglamorous.

Enjoy this long excerpt. Get to know my two sexy Austin firefighters. Camille sure will. 🙂

“… This is one hot book. This is my first m/f/m, m/f/m/f, f/f, and m/m all in one book! And whoa nelly, this was a smoking hot story….” ~ 5 Stars and Top Pick, Night Owl Reviews

“…Delilah Devlin has a scorching hot read on her hands with RAW SILK…Ms. Devlin gives her readers a sexually charged romance…Ms. Devlin turned up the heat with her intense love scenes and memorable characters. I loved Raw Silk, and I would recommend this story to every reader.”
~ 5 Angels and Recommended Read, Fallen Angels Reviews

“…The always exhilarating author Delilah Devlin knows exactly what her readers want – daring, erotic and wicked delightful stories filled with amazing characters, exciting story lines, passion and an abundance of emotions that will keep them riveted to the pages and once again she delivers the goods with RAW SILK…”
~ 4 Hearts, The Romance Studio

* * * * *

A wicked, no-strings one-night stand turns unexpectedly complicated when three lonely hearts collide…

Camille sacrificed romance for success long ago. Now that the lingerie company she and her best friend built is hugely successful, she has a few regrets. Wanting to let down her hair and explore the possibilities, she agrees to meet a man at a bar for drinks only to wind up needing help when she rebuffs his sexual overtures.

Jake and Daniel are two firefighters hitting the bar for a quick drink after a long shift when they see a classy beauty fending off an overzealous boyfriend. With a flex of biceps they chase him off then settle in to seduce the lovely woman whose eyes reflect a hunger they understand all too well.

What starts as a simple, pleasurable one-night stand, quickly burns up the sheets. While Jake knows he can’t let Camille crush their relationship because of age differences, Daniel still thinks he can walk—until he gets a whiff of Camille’s best friend Lacey. Suddenly three isn’t enough.

Reader Advisory: Burning up the sheets is putting it mildly! Inhibitions are out the door with scenes of m/f/m, m/f/m/f, f/f and m/m.

Nothing was better than a lip-gloss kiss—sweet, silky, made for savoring.

Jake Lassiter picked up his beer and drew on the froth, imagining another kind of cream slipping between his lips while he stared at the woman’s shiny pout. She didn’t seem to realize anyone stared as she slicked her lips with a clear lube, tucked a stray blonde curl behind her ear and closed the mirrored compact. Or maybe she did and the performance was just a tease.

“Dayum, bro. Gotta have me some of that,” Daniel Parker murmured.

Jake shot him a glare, just to check, and sure enough, his best buddy was staring at the same honey-haired beauty. “I call dibs.”

Danny scowled, humor gleaming in his dark brown eyes. “Can’t call dibs. I saw her first. I watched her come in the door while you were paying for the drinks.”

“Oh yeah? What color is her hair?” Jake asked, leaning toward the bar to cut off Danny’s view.

“Who gives a damn? Did you see her ass?”

Jake snorted, annoyed they were talking like two never-been-laid teenagers, but that’s what usually happened after a long week when both of them were too worn out to rub a single brain cell between them.

That either had been able to lift bleary eyes past their beers said a lot for the woman’s appeal. She shone like a beacon in the badly lit bar.

“Why not let the lady make her own choice?” Danny drawled.

“Like she’d come near either one of us,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping the expensive cut of her navy suit, the sleek fall of her chin-length hair and understated makeup. She wore “class” like he did a pair of well-washed jeans—comfortably.

Still, it had been her expression that had snagged his attention. Something soft and wistful shone in her large, dark eyes. She wished she was anywhere but here.
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Today’s the last time to enter the contest to win the grab bag of promo stuff, much of it signed, that I picked up at Romanticon! Post a comment to win!

I’m back at home now—but just for a couple of days. Thursday, I’ll head off to north Arkansas for the Ozark Writers Conference. I have sooooo much work to do before I go, including getting the word out about this book. If you have time, please click on the cover and head to Amazon. “Tag” it and “like” it—those things don’t cost a thing to do and you’d be helping other readers find the book. Thanks for all your support and good luck in the drawing!

His suffering….

Though proud and strong, Eirik, heir to the Ulfhednars kingdom, found himself seduced and taken from his homeworld by a bounty-hunting vixen, who sold him into slavery. Purchased by a wealthy, Consortium-backed brothel, he is kept at a heavily guarded and secure breeding facility, where he is forced to feed the lustful whims of Helios’s elite at night. He bides his time, waiting for a chance to escape and get his revenge on the woman who betrayed him…

Her satisfaction….

Once a sex thrall, Fatin earned her freedom through service. Now, as a bounty hunter, she is determined to earn enough to buy her sister’s papers from the same brothel she escaped. For this, she abducts a brutishly handsome, breed-worthy specimen from the Viking planet and delivers him to auction. But her desire for justice and his desire for freedom may consume both of them in a passion neither wanted—or can resist.

Buy at Amazon
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Today, I’ll be flying back to Arkansas. Romanticon is over. I had a great time hanging out with my sister, daughter and friends. But I’m ready to be home.

Yesterday was more restful than I expected. For whatever reason, the powers that be didn’t think I’d be there for the big booksigning event, so there wasn’t a place for me. That’s the third time this has happened to me this year. I can’t figure out where I earned that kind of karma, but a couple of you will benefit from my bad luck. I went up and down the line of authors there—and I think there were around 60 of them—to get signatures on cover flats and the conference book bag. I have tons of things to fill two bags actually. I’ll give the first one the day after tomorrow—keep posting!!

I also picked up some interesting jewelry for giveaways. So stay tuned. In the meantime, I have one more little excerpt. A nasty one, since I don’t think you’ll believe me that it’s sexy. 😉 If you’re not over 18, don’t read another word! Our hero and heroine are still in the brothel, being forced into “entertaining” the guests.

The whore-mistress stepped between them, her face red and her eyes glittering. “Finish it.” She dug a finger under his chin to lift his glance. “You really don’t have a choice.”

Shaking now with fury, he ground out, “I am not an animal.”

“Don’t pretend you’re anything but what you are. A barbarian. The women you will serve want nothing less than every bit of your strength.”

“Do they wish to be raped?”

She gave a feminine snort. “It’s not rape. They want to be overcome. To be forced, yes. But they surrender to your mastery of their own free will. Do not disappoint us. There are far worse things that can befall you if you’re stubborn.”

Her gaze whipped to Fatin. “You wish an agreement. I won’t even consider it unless you prove the men you brought me are every bit as feral and savage as you promised.”
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Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win a grab bag of prizes from Romanticon!

Romanticon has been a blast—especially seeing all the little dramas and debaucheries through my daughter’s eyes. Sis was her dance partner, which saved my feet—thanks, Myla! Today’s the booksigning. I hope to see some of you there. You don’t have to buy a book to say hello!

Here’s another excerpt from Enslaved by a Viking. Forgive Eirik for being a little rough when he first gets his hands on Fatin. A man’s dignity can only stand so much. Click on the cover to order it now! Oh, and I changed the countdown number. I really don’t know what day it is. 🙂

“Have you ever seen the like, Calliope?”

The awe-filled tone of the woman beside her made Fatin pause.

“I must have the dark one. Did you see him at the auction? His cock is twice the size of my husband’s.”

The women giggled and moved away, seeking a word with Aliyah while they pointed toward the dark one, Eirik.

Fatin didn’t want to care that the man they bargained to have had been the one she’d been most reluctant to steal.

From the first moment she’d heard his name spoken by the mining camp supervisor on New Iceland, she’d fixed her sights on the Ulfhednar heir, even knowing that kidnapping one of the ruling class was a capital offense. The temptation had been too great. A chance to exploit his plight and the unsavory practice of sexual slavery was more than she’d hoped for.

Why had he kept his identity a secret for so long? Did he fear he’d be killed the moment he did expose the crime? The excuse was plausible. Still, she didn’t think much frightened the man who’d surprised and enthralled her at every turn. Perhaps he hoped to escape and avoid the humiliation of having been bested by a woman, a situation made all the worse by his gentle treatment of her.

She’d posed as a contracted sex-thrall at the remote mining camp. As soon as he’d entered the small, curtained sleep chamber she’d been assigned to await his pleasure, he’d been eager to take her. Moments after yanking closed the curtain, he’d slid away the blanket she’d used to hide her naked form. As any man presented with a whore for his use, he’d begun without any thought except for his own pleasure.

However, once he’d plunged inside her, and she’d gasped, shocked by the fierceness of his invasion and the size of his sex, he’d gentled his assault, taking the time and care to pull her into an arousal so strong, she’d felt a moment’s regret about causing him harm.

“What is your name?” he’d murmured against her lips as she’d straddled him while he sat at the edge of his sleeping bench.

“Fatin,” she’d whispered, meeting his gaze, liking the heat banked in his blue eyes.

His chest had expanded, pressing against her swollen nipples. “You please me,” he’d said, in his deep, rumbling baritone.

She’d felt a twinge of conscience, knowing what she would do.
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