I’m running a contest to celebrate this release with a $25.00 Amazon.com gift certificate as the prize. Details below!

One adventurous little submissive is just what the bosses need…

Raelie might be a submissive in search of just the right Dom, but she’s not the kind to sit back and wait for the right man to happen. When she gets the chance to fill in as Bryce Caldwell’s executive assistant, she decides some subtle seduction is needed to see if he dominates the bedroom the same way he does the office.

Bryce can’t keep his mind off the sexy blonde sitting just outside his office. Especially not after the security cameras in the copier room catch Raelie “misappropriating” office property. A little disciplinary action leads to a whole lot of complication while he tries to find out whether she’s the right assistant to fulfill a special vacancy. Add a second round of interviews, and suddenly, Bryce is finding out he’s not the only one who’s not sure who’s really in charge.

Read an excerpt
Buy your copy at Amazon
Buy your copy at Smashwords

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

Lately, I feel like I’m living on the edge of a whirlpool. I’m swimming along and making a little headway, and then the current pulls me right away. I didn’t plan to be this busy, but I don’t know how to say no, and I really do like a challenge to keep me edgy.

So this is a drive-by. A shout-out to those of you who love my dirty little stories to let you know that I have something new out there, ready for you to read, but you won’t be able to find it in the usual places. Pleasing Sir was a story I wrote as an experiment. A straight-to-the-Internet project to test the Kindle waters.

It doesn’t mean I won’t keep writing for the usual suspects, and doesn’t mean I’m not extremely happy about how they treat me, it just means that I like to experiment and see what else is out there. Maybe the book won’t do well in this venue—in which case, I’ll pull it and submit it for consideration to one of my favorite publishers. Or maybe it will do well enough that I’ll want to do it again. What I like about this is that I’m not dependent on a publisher’s scheduling. And, in the future, I can time the releases of my self-pubbed things for when I have a drought of releases from other houses. I don’t want them to back up against each other, although this one has, but ah well.

And just because this is self-published, don’t go thinking it won’t be any good. It’s still a really hot “Delilah Devlin” book. It’s a full 22,000-word story, comparable in length to a Samhain or Ellora’s Cave novella. I paid a professional editor to find all my typos, so no worries there either. If you’re in the mood to try something with a BSDM-bent and a sexy ménage, go get your copy. If you do buy it, be sure to go back and leave a review. Let someone who’s curious and on the fence know what you thought about the story.

Thanks for all your support. You make it easy for me to get out of bed and hit the keyboard every day.

About that contest!
Help me get the word out! Here’s how you can qualify for the prize:
1) Write a review and send me the link so I can verify
2) Post about the book on your blog (send me the link)
3) Talk up the story on a reader’s loop (forward me the email)

I’d never written an office romance. Since I’d worked in a corporate office setting in a previous incarnation, I didn’t think I’d ever find the sexy in it. I was wrong. I had so much fun writing Pleasing Sir that I plan on two sequels. All will go straight to Kindle and Smashwords. I’ll do my utmost to get PS up on Amazon this coming week for you to enjoy.

If you like sexy foursomes with a heavy dose of BDSM, I think you’ll be very pleased. ~DD

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

Raelie might be a submissive in search of just the right Dom, but she’s not the kind to sit back and wait for the right man to happen. When she gets the chance to fill in as Bryce Caldwell’s executive assistant, she decides some subtle seduction is needed to see if he dominates the bedroom the same way he does the office.

Bryce can’t keep his mind off the sexy blonde sitting just outside his office. Especially not after the security cameras in the copier room catch Raelie “misappropriating” office property. A little disciplinary action leads to a whole lot of complication while he tries to find out whether she’s the right assistant to fulfill a special vacancy. Add a second round of interviews, and suddenly, Bryce is finding out he’s not the only one who’s not sure who’s really in charge.

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

Note for Readers: You must be of legal age in your country of origin to read this excerpt.

On Tuesday morning, she dressed in another shirtwaist blouse. One that fit tightly over her breasts. Before she entered Bryce’s office to deliver his mail, she turned the top button snuggled between her breasts sideways. She hoped his gaze would be helplessly caught, waiting for her to exhale deeply and let the button slip. Not that she planned to let that happen. Power lay in the anticipation.

She entered without knocking, and this time, stifled the urge to give him a flippant greeting to get his attention. If obvious didn’t work with the man, maybe a tease would. As she bent over his desk to drop the envelopes and magazines into his inbox, she watched him from beneath her eyelashes.

His gaze swept her, lingering for a moment on the button between her breasts. Heat banked in his eyes, and his nostrils flared before he turned to the items she’d delivered.

She wasn’t fooled. He only pretended to ignore her.

Assured he was invested in the game as well, she gave him a more direct stare. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” she said, lingering over the last word.

His head jerked, canting slightly as his gaze narrowed. “I think that’s enough, Miss Wood,” he murmured.

Chastised, but far from defeated, she walked away with a smile on her face.

He might be fighting his attraction, but she knew she’d captured his notice. Back at her desk, she closed her eyes, reveling in the tingling that tightened her breasts into aching little points, the tiny golden rings adorning the tips mashing against the cups of her bra and inciting her nipples into an even greater arousal. She waited for a moment when no one was around then massaged her breasts through her clothing until the tightness eased.

On Wednesday, she carried in the lunch he’d ordered, a Reuben and a small salad, sliding it beside him as he talked on the telephone. She reached for the napkin wrapped around the utensils, unfurled it and shook it out with a snap before laying it across his lap, her fingers brushing over him.

This time, he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed. His voice trailed away mid-sentence, his breath caught because she’d managed to fleetingly graze his cock. His dark, thick eyebrows shot upward, touching that disobedient lock of inky hair she wanted so badly to comb back into place.

“I’ll be back later to clear that away, sir. Enjoy.” She walked out, not rolling her hips in a lewd way, but with her shoulders straight, her step light. His cock had stirred against his thigh as she brushed it. She’d accomplished what she’d come for.

Shortly after, she left for the ladies room carrying her purse snug beneath her arm. With her little fingertip vibrator, she used the memory of that fleeting touch to soar. If her cheeks were flushed when she returned, she was also bonelessly relaxed. She didn’t give a damn whether anyone with an expert eye guessed what she’d just done.

When Thursday rolled around, Raelie stayed past five o’clock to attend the meeting with the crew from the plaza worksite. She remained in the background, one leg crossed over the other. This time, she wore a looser skirt because she had special plans for after everyone had left.

Her foot kicked slowly up and down as she doodled, her skin warming just thinking about the naughty thing she planned to do. He’d probably never know. However, just the possibility of being caught was enough of a turn-on all by itself. The motion of her foot quickened, squeezing her thighs together, and by default, tightening her already throbbing pussy.

Lord, she wished she’d taken the edge off with her little vibrator before coming to the meeting. She glanced at her notes and realized she’s substituted “bend over” for “Windover”—the name of the plaza Bryce and Morgan’s company was building. She hastily scratched through it then guiltily looked up.

Morgan’s gaze narrowed on her, suspicion glinting in his green eyes.

She wrinkled her nose. Bryce’s partner, Morgan, was a flirt. He’d romanced every single woman who wasn’t dog-ugly in the building, but she’d been the lone bastion, holding out for Bryce.

However, her resistance to his charm appeared to have proven an irresistible challenge for Morgan Markham. Every day, the man sat his fine ass on the edge of her desk, trying to woo her, coaxing smiles and mock scowls, but so far not a single promise to go to dinner or the supply closet.

She had no doubt Morgan knew his way around women. He had tons of experience, and he knew how to extricate himself from sticky situations. His glib tongue could let a girl down and still make her feel like a desirable, attractive queen among women. She’d seen him do it more than once.

No, she didn’t want Morgan. Well, maybe once—and only if he was no longer Bryce’s partner—because she wouldn’t take the risk of Bryce being put off by promiscuity in his woman. Morgan wasn’t the dominant male she needed in her life. He never made her feel small and vulnerable or eager to please. He never made her wet with just the sting of his hot stare.

Despite Morgan’s best lines and flattery, she’d saved herself for Bryce, and he still didn’t have a clue, which didn’t dim her enjoyment of her crush. But she was making progress.

Even now, as she dangled one foot atop the other in the far corner of the room, removed from the discussion, she had his attention.

His gaze strayed to the glimpse of thigh the tightening of her skirt revealed with each slow swing.

She’d worn a beige skirt, nude hose and seashell pink shoes today, secretly mirroring the colors of her hair, her skin, her nipples. She’d felt sexy, nearly naked, when she’d dressed that morning, knowing she was exposing her personal, intimate colors to the man, and that he’d never know it.

The overlarge pearls nestled against her throat weren’t real, but they warmed to her skin. With a lazy finger, she lifted them and imagined Bryce tucking them one at a time into her ass while she whimpered.

Her chest rose around a deep breath and she raised her glance to find his gaze on her necklace before it darted upward to lock with hers. The moment stretched exquisitely long—a bit of subtle foreplay that enhanced her fantasy, fed her lust and her anticipation for the naughty thing she meant to do the moment she was alone.

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

I have a new book coming out with Samhain on September 7th—another Lone Star Lovers book. Just thought I’d mention that. 🙂

Here’s another Samhain story that you can order right this minute. Don’t you love gargoyles?

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

“…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 on STONE’S EMBRACE

“…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 on STONE’S EMBRACE

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.

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

Louisiana 1909

Octavius rammed his shoulder against the heavy oak door. The lock and hinges gave and the door crashed backward with a satisfying thud, raising dust that sifted through the air like silver-gilt fireflies in the moonlight. Wary, he stepped across the threshold. Inside, the house was dark, the air thick—too heavy to be natural.

He knew, without reeling in the psychic tether that kept him chained to the Grigori, that Bacclum was here. That the bastard had found the demon. He prayed he wasn’t too late to save Bacclum from his own insatiable lust for power. The consequences of his failure would mean his own end.

He should have known that Bacclum planned mischief that night. The mixed-blood angel had been too eager to see Octavius take a rare walk among humans, encouraging him to attend a masked ball at a wealthy residence inside the French Quarter.

While Octavius had enjoyed the rare opportunity to mingle among sweet-smelling women, secretly laughing as he pretended a lever inside his vest controlled the movement of his wings and thrilling to the many strokes of soft hands along his ribbed folds, Bacclum had snuck away. But not before he’d assured himself that his watcher’s vigilance had been dulled by the herbs stirred into his drink. If Octavius hadn’t noted the uneasy glances of the sloe-eyed woman who’d gulled him, he might have drunk the full measure. As it was, his head still swam and his loins throbbed with unabated lust.

The sound of crashing furniture and the low rumble of a masculine voice drew him up the staircase and down a hallway toward the sliver of golden light, fanning outward from a partially opened doorway. Sliding his back close to the wall, he gently pushed open the door and peered around the corner into a room lined with shelves of books.

Bacclum’s dark head was bent toward his chest, his thighs braced around the demon, his hands wrapped around a straining throat.

I’m not too late, thank the gods. “Let go, Bacclum!” Octavius growled as he stalked toward the Grigori steadily strangling the demon he clasped.

“Not until he gives me what I want.” Bacclum grunted, his face screwing into a fierce grimace. “I want all of it.”

Octavius stepped deeper into the library then felt a slight, telltale rumbling beneath his feet.

Bacclum seemed unaware of the heightening danger, so intent was he on murdering the demon and claiming his power for his own.

Octavius cursed beneath his breath. He should have suspected what Bacclum had intended when he’d entered this demon’s realm. The angel’s thirst for power was unquenchable. The council had warned Octavius long ago of Bacclum’s unrelenting quest, but he’d believed the core of the creature squeezing the life force from the demon was good and honorable. He’d believed that Bacclum understood the uneasy balance that had to be maintained between the forces of light and darkness. In the end, he’d misjudged him, underestimating his need for vengeance. Now it was up to him alone to set this right.

Octavius folded his wings forward, scraping the leathery tips against Bacclum’s slick, hot skin, intending to wrap his wings around Bacclum’s face and smother him into unconsciousness. The rumbling increased, fed by the faint chanting echoing inside his head. The demon was far from vanquished.

“Let go, Bacclum,” he roared, leaning closer to pull Bacclum back, but something lashed around his own wrists. Invisible bonds tightened then jerked him off his feet.

He landed on the floor on his knees and growled. The air around them grew dank and humid like a demon’s breath, and the voice chanting in an ancient tongue inside his head grew louder and stronger.

The house shivered violently. The wood flooring creaked. Windows rattled then shattered. Glass shards, like silvery projectiles, peppered his wings and back and shredded his clothing, drawing blood from hundreds of cuts.

Bacclum’s head jerked back and canted to the side. At last, he’d caught the chanting voice and had to know he’d awakened the demon’s inner fire.

The breeze sweeping through the shattered window intensified and swirled around the room, tightening into a devil wind that picked up more slivers of glass and jagged bits of shattered furniture that pinged against the paneled walls but sank into tender flesh.

Octavius’s chest, back and wings were flayed, scraped raw. He reared back, fighting the phantom manacles holding him. Suddenly he was wrenched from the ground and held still inside the fulcrum of the whirlwind.

With only a moment to suck in a deep breath, he was flung forward, forced to ride the arc of an invisible whip, then shot backward like a cannonball through the gaping window onto fragrant grass.

Frogs croaked. Crickets chirped. Moonlight silvered the damp grass. He shook his head clear and ripped off the ragged clothing hanging from the belt at his waist.

Freed at last, he knelt, breathing deeply and gathering strength. He flared his wings and dug his knuckles into the turf. He pushed upward—but his feet never left the ground. His wings never caught the wind beneath their leathery folds.

Frozen, first by horror, then irreversibly by magic, he could only stand there, his terrified gaze watching as his body was slowly consumed, inch by inch, by stone.

I know I’m late getting this up. I got home just a little while ago. The red-headed hellion needed help with homework after her shift at Sprint, so we worked together on polynomials until about 3 AM. I think she’s got the hang of it now. God, I hope so.

Needless to say, I’m still playing catchup from my trip. Two books released while I was away, and I didn’t have a chance to tell you about them.

A tourist enters a sauna and discovers what can happen in a “Textile Free” zone when a handsome German takes her in hand.

Textile Free is my first foray into self-publishing. It’s short, less than 3000 words, but I offered it for free so you could have a chance to see how Smashwords works.

It’s one of those stories I didn’t have to think too hard about, because the “Textile Free” experience was one I had when I lived in Germany—how much of the story is true is left to your imagination!

Expect magic when one determined woman dons a legendary pair of red stilettos and bares body and heart to get her man’s attention…

A new print book is out. In it are all four stories in the Red Stilletos series, including Bad, Bad Girlfriend.

I loved working with the other three ladies on this project, and had a great time writing the book. One of the scenes (and if you’ve read it, you know which one I mean), makes me laugh just thinking about it. I promise you won’t see pasties in the same light ever again!

Yesterday’s winner is listed at the bottom of this post!

Okay, so the cover is a complete tease, and not quite accurate, but we couldn’t fit the other guy on there without having to give up more of the hot girl’s ass. The book’s out September 7th, and I will give you a taste or two as we approach the release date. For now, just feast on the cover.

And in case you’ve forgotten that I can write a ménage, here’s my latest review for Raw Silk…

“I was absolutely blown away… I have never read anything so enticing and exciting… Delilah Devlin is a master at writing erotic stories and Raw Silk is one of her very best, off the charts, books I have read in a long time…”
Silver Dragon from Veiled Secrets Reviews

Read an Excerpt from Raw Silk

Yesterday’s winner (by random number generator) is…Michelle U! Michelle, congrats, and be sure to email me about delivery of your prize!

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

I’m feeling a little lazy today, so I’m pulling out something I’ve already written to entertain you! Enjoy!

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

“…In [UNBRIDLED]…we are following the sexy machinations of Justin, and he does sexy so well it isn’t difficult to picture him doling out love to his two subs. It’s also remarkably easy to see why they’d be eager to do his bidding. However, it is totally refreshing to watch Dani and Rowe slip the noose and insist on him obeying them for a change of pace…If you are seeking an intensely erotic short read, UNBRIDLED is the one for you…”
5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews

Tough…or tender? If she plays her cards right, she won’t have to choose.

Dani Standifer arrives home at her West Texas family ranch a day early, ready to pick up where she left off with Rowe Ayers, her high school sweetheart. However, when she opens the door to their line-shack trysting place, it’s clear she waited a day too long. Rowe’s with someone else—another man. And not just any other man— Justin Cruz, the bad boy with whom she shared one wild encounter, years ago.

Justin’s waited a long time for this moment. He knows his reputation, but since he seduced Rowe, he’s been a one-man cowboy—waiting for Dani to return and become the delicious fulfillment of his and Rowe’s needs. If she’s up to the challenge.

To her own surprise, Dani finds she’s more than ready to have both men in her life—as soon as she and Rowe teach Justin a lesson or two about love.

Their small town may not be ready for their kind of relationship. And Dani’s brother Cutter’s mile-deep grudge against Justin throws in a complication that could break the foundation the three of them have built…

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

Note for Readers: You must be of legal age in your country of origin to read this excerpt.

Justin stared at the silent house, taking in the understated wealth it represented. The Standifers were old money in these parts. Old money—and spoiled and unappreciative of their advantages.

Eyeing the pristine white Victorian, he thought about the crummy apartment in town that he’d kept after his mother had died—the only thing he could afford with the odd jobs he’d worked until he’d landed the job as a wrangler at the Ayers ranch.

He’d have liked to go to school, just like Dani and Rowe. He’d had the grades. Could have ridden a football scholarship, but his sister had needed him to provide a roof over her head until she’d finished school. Now that she was attending a community college in San Angelo, he was free at last to pursue his own path.

Funny how he’d always thought he’d leave Two Mule in the rearview mirror of his pickup truck first chance he got, but things hadn’t worked out that way. When he’d hired on as a wrangler on Rowe’s family ranch after high school, he’d been happy for the employment. He’d discovered an affinity for working with horses and cattle, skills that had quickly gotten him noticed by Rowe’s father, who took him under his wing and groomed him to assume more responsibility. Over the years, he’d thrived on the attention, enjoying the respect he earned that didn’t have a thing to do with how well he tossed a football or how popular he was with women.

When he’d been asked to step in as foreman when the ranch foreman retired and moved to Florida with his daughter, the promotion had been a mixed blessing. He’d liked the authority, the trust invested in him, but he’d felt bound to stay, especially after Rowe’s father died. He’d managed everything, moved into the house, so that Rowe could finish his education. After he’d returned, Rowe asked him to stay, saying his house was too big and lonely without the company.

When Rowe had snagged his lustful attention after taking over the ranch, no one would have been more shocked than he was. Justin had never known he could be aroused by a man, had run through a string of girls in high school and an equally impressive list of women afterward, but other than his very brief fling with Dani, no woman had ever held his attention long.

Catching his boss skinny dipping in a newly dug cattle pond on a particularly hot summer day had opened his eyes to whole new world of sensual pleasure.
Read the rest of this entry »

My “Brand New Look” contest continues through tomorrow! Be sure to check the rules and the prize list in yesterday’s post!

A little birdie at Ellora’s Cave told me that Warlord’s Destiny is the best-selling reissue so far, she thinks. That’s good enough for me! They’ve been breaking apart older anthologies and reissuing the novellas individually. Nice for the author because we’re seeing an older title gain a new life.

WD was originally published in 2005 as one of three stories in the anthology Fated Mates, which was nominated for Best Paranormal Erotic Novel of 2005 by RT BookReview Magazine.

Thanks so much for your support. Without it, I’d have to have a day job and would no doubt be writing fewer books!

This is what the story is about:

Promised in marriage for a decade, Mora has no illusions she is anything other than the sacrificial lamb to ensure peace between her peace-loving planet and the warlike world that demands her union with one of their own. No great beauty, she resigns herself to a loveless marriage with a man who will only do his duty by her. However, when she meets the rugged warlord who will be her husband, Mora feels an immediate stirring of lust. She decides in that moment to win his heart—she’ll settle for nothing less!

Lord Tetrik finds his bride more than the scrawny handful he had expected. She has hips to breed him strong, sturdy sons, and intelligence that is a gift worth more than a pretty face. When he suspects his wife harbors tender feelings for him, he wonders if he can be the husband she desires. After all, love for a woman is a frivolous thing—and not a Warlord’s Destiny.

Read an excerpt here