Maybe you missed it. The series was short. Just a trilogy of stories about cowboys who never got over their first loves. That they were brothers and owned a ranch was just part of the fun. Two of the heroines were older than the cowboys. One was his high school sweetheart. Yes, I’m talking about those boys from the Triplehorn Ranch.

I’ve been thinking about summer for the past couple of weeks. Wish I had time for a short cruise somewhere hot, where I could soak up some rays, dip my toes in saltwater, and dispense with all these layers of clothing! Hell, I wish I could just hit the fast-forward switch and make it May so I could start using the pool!

I’m looking forward to swimming, and hopefully finding time to do it more than once a day! Are you looking forward to summer? If so, what are you wanting to do most?

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!

From A Long, Hot Summer

One shared past. One weekend to make things right—and make it last forever.

The TripleHorn Brand, Book 3

Sarah Colby has never quite managed to shake off the emotional scars her ex-husband left behind. Nor has she been able to shed the shame of the one indiscretion that still haunts her memories.

When she asks the Triplehorn Ranch for help to move her cattle to an auction, the man they send has her working double-time to shore up the walls around her heart. He’s older now, harder—and hotter—but he’s the same Tommy Triplehorn she couldn’t resist all those years ago.

Tommy couldn’t be happier that his brothers have settled down, but he’s feeling a little smothered by all the domesticity. At the same time, carousing and drinking no longer appeal—and he thinks he knows why. Sarah Colby.

He’s waited too long for her to get over being ashamed of what they shared. He’s old enough to know what he wants. It’s her, and he’s going to use every second of their time together to dismantle her resistance. Even if he has to call in a little backup.

Warning: A cowboy on a mission to prove to the woman he loves that the only number that matters is the number of fantasies he’s willing to fulfill—even if it means sharing her for a night.

The kiss Tommy Triplehorn planted on Candy’s mouth made Sarah Colby’s mouth dry right up. She knew all too well how his kisses felt and couldn’t help the jealousy stirring up inside her as the couple walked down the sidewalk to a motel room door in plain view of every person inside the saloon.

The man had no shame. The red in his cheeks as he’d exited the bar had likely just been from the liquor he’d consumed.

Sarah tamped down the disappointment that soured her stomach and summoned a smile for the man she was meeting this night.

Blake Morrow was thick-shouldered and tall. A burly man with a booming voice. His wealth and standing in the community made him a very suitable suitor. The fact he already had children from a previous wife, was a relief to Sarah, who had resigned herself long ago to her barren state. Blake liked her and desired her property even more. He was honest about that, gently respectful of her intelligence by not trying to romance the Rocking C from under her as so many men had.

His gaze noted her blue jeans, and he arched a brow. “I take it we’re eating steaks here?”

She shrugged. “I ran into some problems before I could break away. No time to get dressed up.” She made no apology. Blake knew her responsibilities as a ranch owner came first.

“You still look beautiful,” he said, his tone gruff.

She appreciated the compliment and smiled, not wanting to read too deeply into anything he said. Surface congeniality, quiet respect. That was more than she was accustomed to. It would do.

Any stray thoughts of handsome cowboys like Tommy Triplehorn were consigned to her fantasy life, not her real life. The young rancher had been a mistake. One she’d regretted the instant she’d let him slip beneath her reserve. She’d felt alone, afraid for her future. She’d mistaken his rock-hard shoulder for maturity, his hot kisses for love. Eventually, she’d fallen from the clouds that had obscured her good sense and faced the cold hard truth. She was a plain woman, a natural woman. A barren, wealthy woman. The only things a man would ever want from her were what she owned and perhaps a bed partner. As sparsely populated as this section of Texas was, she had no illusions that convenience was on her side.

No, she’d learned a hard lesson all those years ago about what men wanted from wives. One she’d never forget. Her destiny wasn’t some fool’s gold of a lover’s promises.

Blake’s strong hand settled at the small of her back to guide her toward a table, something she couldn’t help flinching from. She didn’t need to be led. Didn’t need some big strong man showing her the way. But she kept silent. He was only doing what he’d been taught. He couldn’t know that the last time she’d been led, she’d been forced to submit. The action that left her cold, made her more reserved with men than other women might be.

Not that Blake seemed to notice as he smiled warmly across the table. “I’m surprised you accepted my invitation as many times as you’ve refused.”

She blinked, surprised he was getting straight to the point without any polite preliminaries. “You’ve been asking me for a while. I thought we should get to know each other.”

He nodded, the rugged face tightening just a little. “You know I want to court you.”

“I appreciate your candor,” she said softly. “I understand you have some expectations. I’m willing for us to explore a relationship.”

Good Lord, they sounded like the oil men who’d come to her ranch a few years back asking to sink a test well on her property.

Blake reached across the table and cupped her hand. Just a brief squeeze before he withdrew and flipped open the menu.

The waitress arrived. Relieved by the distraction, Sarah ordered a steak and salad. Blake ordered the same, adding shrimp and potatoes. She supposed such a large man would need the calories. Hopefully, he didn’t expect for her to let him finish her steak. She wasn’t some deskbound rancher. She rode the fences, supervised the movement of the cattle to fresher pastures, participated in the branding every spring. Every calorie she ate fueled her body, just like a man’s.

She forced herself to uncurl her fingers. What was she doing? Looking for problems? For judgment? Was she simply hoping to find a compelling reason to send Blake on his way like she’d done the past eight years with every other man who’d approached her since her husband’s untimely death?

Sarah forced herself to uncurl her hands in her lap. In any other situation she’d have been comfortable, in charge. But here, knowing Blake wanted to marry her, that he’d expect intimacies at some point, left her cold inside.

A damaged heroine in a romance novel, she certainly was not, but she had been tainted by a violent man. Left untrusting and wary. Glad for a long while for her self-imposed celibacy.

Pretending ease with the man sitting across from her seemed an insurmountable task. Who was she fooling? Sooner or later, he’d make a move and she wasn’t entirely sure who she’s react. Would she wouldn’t flinch or lean away. Or simply freeze in place.

The more she considered the idea of intimacy with this man, the more the knot in her stomach hurt. The last thing Blake wanted was problems. He had his life mapped out. He hadn’t looked any further than skin deep to determine she was his next move.

So although he’d be disappointed in the short term, she knew she couldn’t string him along with hopes she’d learn to deal with a husband in her life and bed. Before the salads arrived, Sarah made her apologies and quietly excused herself, leaving a befuddled Blake without a clue what he’d done wrong.

She headed straight to her car, hat in her hand, not looking around the dark parking lot. A scuff of gravel sounded, and she instantly regretted waving Blake back into his chair when he’d offered to walk her out. She cupped her keys, spreading her fingers around three to use as a weapon.

“You didn’t stay for dinner,” came a quiet voice behind her. Smooth as whiskey. Achingly sweet. Tommy Triplehorn. Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner is…Jackie Wisherd!

* * * * *

I’m ready for this, aren’t you? ➡

The weather’s been oddly warm the past couple of weeks, which means I can bear putting my hands on the pool’s metal-poled skimmers and into the water to clean the traps. Already my thoughts are turning toward summer. Maybe we’ll have an early Spring? *fingers crossed*

In the meantime, would you like to dream about a vacation in the Caribbean? Well, I have just the series for you. Just three stories, all about women who get more adventure than they counted on during their “adventure vacations”—and all featuring those awesome, ex-military men. Want a Marine? Sexy SEALs?

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!

Interested only in experiencing an adrenaline-packed adventure first-hand to give her credo when she books her clients’ adventure vacations, Lace McElhannon finds more excitement than she can handle when she meets and falls into bed with ex-SEAL Dex Haygood.

Fresh from protecting transport ships from Somali pirates, Dex figures his latest job will be a cakewalk, until he finds himself in deep water, swimming with sharks and trying to protect Lace when the yacht they’re sailing on is taken.

“Sweetheart, the sharks are down there.” Ice blue eyes wrinkled at the corners as the man bending over the side of the olive-green skiff pointed a finger into the clear blue depths beneath her.

Did he think she’d missed seeing the swarm, or flock, or whatever the hell you called a group of freaking sharks? They were busy ripping into the grisly bundle of fish parts and guts the dive crew had dropped to the sea floor in a wire basket—which was why she’d hurried over here.

“Exactly! Like any sane person would purposely swim with sharks?” She let her voice frag, then crimped her lips to keep from saying anything else that made her sound like she was twelve. Lace McElhannon was glad she hadn’t given him a snarky wag of her head while she’d said it. But seriously, who would blame her for being snotty? Great White sharks were swimming thirty feet beneath her toes and he wasn’t doing anything about it!

When her yacht-mates had blithely donned their snorkels and goggles then fell backward into the water without a care, she’d only hesitated for a moment. How scary could it be? And the dive team had seemed professional, assuring them the spotters’ job was to watch for any trouble, and they would swoop in to the rescue or drop fresh bait to distract the sharks.

Not until she’d glanced down and seen a dozen huge, sleek bodies—with rows and rows of jagged teeth—circling had she’d freaked out, leaving her ship-mates bobbing on the surface like live bait while she’d struck out toward the skiff.

Fighting for breath, Lace dog-paddled, then swam faster against a rising wave that sent her closer to the skiff’s hull. Salty water splashed into her mouth and she gulped without thinking, coughing and spitting, knowing she looked like an idiot, but her poor swimming skills didn’t have a thing to do with her breathless state. Fear froze her body, making expanding her lungs impossible.

Yes, she’d paid to swim with sharks. Or at least she’d paid for the plane ticket to get here to the Bahamas. But maybe she shouldn’t have watched Susan’s Shark Week DVDs beforehand. Her friend, and partner at the travel agency, had tried to dissuade her from choosing this particular adventure vacation, knowing she’d only ever swum in a heated pool. But who could pass up a week in the Bahamas? She’d had visions of watching the excitement through the window of a glass-bottom boat. But now was not the time to wonder why she hadn’t paid closer attention to Jake Halloran’s description of his “little ocean jaunt.”

“You have to help me up,” she said, sliding up her goggles to let the smirking hunk see her terror-stricken eyes. “I have a cramp.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “We’re not here to rescue clients from their own bad decisions.”

“Make an exception.” She pushed the mouthpiece of her snorkel to the side so he could see the determination thinning her lips.

“Better pull her up, Dex,” another voice above her drawled. “The way she’s splashing, those whites’ll think she’s a fish in distress.”

Dex. So that was his name. But she didn’t have time to savor the mystery that had taunted her since she’d boarded the Clementine three days ago for one of Halloran’s daily jaunts. Despite the amenities aboard the 160-foot motorized luxury yacht behind her, she’d been much more interested in this man than the rock-climbing wall near the upper deck. On their first day aboard the yacht, he’d been introduced as the commander of the guard team providing security for the high-end adventure vacation. Unfortunately, he spent most of his time on the much smaller and faster escort boat which accompanied them while they sailed. She’d really hoped for a chance to get to know him. Everything about him had attracted her—his size, his muscled frame, his icy-cool gaze that landed like a hot laser, making her melt.

Funny how that calculating stare didn’t have the same effect when she was scared. Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winners are…Pat Freely, Debra G, and Amy T!

* * * * *

I’ve another new shorty for you to enjoy! Well, new if you’ve never read Lesbian Lust, and twice as long as it was in Licks… I like to make sure the shorties I publish individually are at lease 5,000 words long, and if they are not, I promise to add a little something extra. Since The Weekend came in at just over 4,700 words, I added a story I’ve never published before—Soldier Girls. So enjoy! And don’t you just love the cover?!

That’s what this weekend was all about. A last chance to renew our connection. Or maybe this was goodbye…

Includes a bonus story, Soldier Girls, at the end!

Note: This original short story may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!

Purchase here!

I just thought I might mention two other recent shorty releases that are doing rather well… Plus that brand new shorty collection that’s out…

The Hired Hand is still #1 on the LGBT short reads list! And I love the notes readers are sending me regarding my latest Stepbrothers Stepping Out story! And do you know what a great value Strokes, Vol. 3 is? Especially now? That $0.99 price will not last long!

Thanks for your support, everyone! And click on the covers, if you’d like to check them out!

Excerpt from Soldier Girls…

Fort Sill, Oklahoma, 1992

“Don’t ask, don’t tell” didn’t last past drinks at dinner.

Sergeant Kim Prescott eased off her dark green Army jacket and hung it on the seat behind her. The movement stretched the lighter green blouse across her breasts. She must have caught me glancing, because her brown eyes narrowed. “Too bad you have to head back to Gordon this weekend.”

“Gordon” was Fort Gordon, Georgia. I’d been lucky to snag a slot in a two-week course at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, where I’d shared a classroom table with SGT Prescott. We’d bonded over stories of both our stints in Desert Storm and our inability to quit cigarettes now we were stateside.

Of course, all the chit-chat was riddled with subtext. I couldn’t control my need to ogle her amazing figure. She couldn’t seem to stop teasing me. Like now. A shoulder eased back, pushing out her full breasts, ensuring I’d stare a moment longer. Then she bent toward me again, the table between us. Her fingers stroked the back of the hand gripping my beer bottle. It was a quick touch, really, but I jerked.

“Easy,” she said. “It’s not like I’m hitting on you.” Then she looked at me again, giving me a stare that challenged while her expression shuttered up.

I knew the look. If I laughed it off, that would end the pass. We’d both edge away from where we currently sat, hunched over the table toward each other, ostensibly to hear better in the loud bar. We’d find an excuse to cut the evening short and go to our separate billets. One had to be careful in this environment, because one misstep could end a reputation and a career. And as effed up as the DoD policy was, I liked my job and took pride in the fact I was a good soldier. I wasn’t going to risk everything because I like the curve of Kim Prescott’s breasts.

However, her stare continued. Temptation proved too great to resist.

Beneath the table, I slipped off a shoe and ran my toes up the inside of her calf. “What do you say we ditch this place and head back to my room? I’m getting hoarse from shouting.”

Pass accepted.

We retrieved our jackets, settled the check, and walked back to her car.

*~*~*

Contest

For a chance to win  your choice from among the stories on this web page—My Shorties—answer me this…

What are your Saturday plans?

Mine include making tie-die shirts with the kids to wear on Valentines Day! Sounds messy, right? And it was all my idea…

UPDATE: Winners are named! You have to check the comments for the list!

* * * * *

I’ll admit it. The idea felt icky. While not truly incestuous, the word “brother” attached to any hero who would be a heroine’s lover should be one of those places you should never go, right?

But then I wrote the first story. Then the second. And suddenly, I could see the allure. Someone you shared a roof with. So many opportunities to witness or be watched doing inappropriate things. Now, I have the fourth story in a series of edible little shorties ready for you to enjoy.

I thought this would be a five story series because I didn’t have any more “With xxx’s” ideas, but then I asked for your help for more, and now I can keep going indefinitely! If you still want them…

I already have a naughty cover for “With His Team” — and your suggestions that I loved: With His Ex-Wife, With His Ex-Boyfriend (LOL–I love that one!), With His Ex-Girlfriend, With His Ex-Lover, With His Pilot, With His Gardner, With His Doctor, With His Trainer, With His Bodyguard, With His Mate (I see a shapeshifter story there!)…

With His Team is next, because I already have the cover, but what are your TOP THREE FAVES from my list for the next stories? Answer for a chance to win one of the first three Stepbrother shorties I wrote (NOT WITH HIS FRIENDS). There will be three winners!

In the meantime, take a look at the new release!

When a college student joins her stepbrother at the family lake house, sparks fly when she realizes he’s invited his best friends as well…

**FREE TO KINDLE UNLIMITED SUBSCRIBERS!**

Just $0.99 for everyone else! Purchase HERE.

Excerpt from With His Friends…

I followed the sounds of masculine laughter and splashes, skirting the lake house and heading straight toward the dock. Anger fueled my steps. And hurt. Caleb knew I’d expected to spend time alone with him this weekend. This, our last chance to enjoy the cabin on the lake now that our parents were divorcing. The house where we’d spent so many summers growing up would be lost, and perhaps, so would my relationship with Caleb.

Who knew what the future held for us? We were both heading back to school in a few weeks, him to UT, me to Rice. There would be no more family reunions during the holidays, no more chances to share the same roof where our parents’ self-involvement had allowed so many opportunities for the two of us to be…well, involved.

As I approached the dock, I realized that the two young men with my brother were known to me. I’d dated both. Johnny Wills, “John Wayne” to his friends, and Bradley Tanner. How awkward. I could hardly blow hot all over my brother when both men knew only too well that, for me, anger flipped my sexy switch. Read the rest of this entry »

Can you believe the first month of 2016 is almost over? Yeah, it’s all over except the weeping. I blew my goals for January. And I’m not sure why. I felt good after December’s little health hiccup. But February presents a new challenge and a chance to catch up!

What did I accomplish in January?

1. I wrote 1/2 of one book.
2. I wrote the opening chapters of another then put it away because I hated it.
3. I revised an older title and published it.
4. I compiled a short story collection of my own and published it.

And that was freaking it.

Just so you didn’t miss those newly published titles, here’s a reminder…

January Releases

Bent on catching her cheating fiancé in the act, Frannie Valentine got sidetracked by a little thing like dying. When she awakens, Frannie learns her pampered life will never be the same, so she turns to the man responsible for her undeadness and demands he take on the responsibility of giving her a little job training—in the PI biz.

Niall Keegan never intended to make himself a mate, but Frannie’s string of minor disasters, which ended with her dying in his arms, took the decision right out of his hands. While the mating part isn’t bad, making the disaster-prone Frannie a PI may just be the death of him.

Purchase here!

* * * * *

From New York Times bestselling author, Delilah Devlin, comes her third naughty collection of bedtime stories–enough for a week’s worth of sexy inspiration!
Included in this volume are… 

Big Brass Buckle — Caught in a sudden thunderstorm on a lonely stretch of Texas highway, I pull into a dingy little diner to wait out the rain, never dreaming the cowboy of my dreams would follow me inside…

Pitch Black — Passion lights the way for an ex-marine corrections officer rescuing a female CO trapped in a prison block during a blackout…

The Pleasure in Surrender — After the lady of the keep bars her gates to the barbarian the king commands she wed, the half-Viking knight scales the walls of her heart…

One-Track Cowboy — After tracking two lost hikers, a park ranger and a local rancher lose themselves to a wild passion…

How to Train Your Skjaldmaer — A Viking jarl tricked into marrying a shieldmaiden sets out to tame his fiery bride…

Johnny Blaze — A firefighter moonlighting as a male exotic dancer gives a librarian a birthday spanking she’ll never forget…

Red Dawn — A colonist living on a lonely Martian plain receives her new mate, a man culled from among the newly transported convicts…

Purchase here! And remember, RIGHT NOW, it’s just $0.99!

What’s coming in February?

Contest

Answer this to win a small Amazon gift card…

What story are you most eager to see from me next? The next SEAL? Another fireman? Cowboy? Werewolf? Witch? Stepbrother?

I’ll be sending out a new newsletter later today and announcing this month’s winner of a gift from me. If you aren’t already a subscriber to my newsletter, go here: Sign up for Delilah’s Newsletter!

UPDATE: Four winners are announced in the comments!

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If you’ve followed me for long, you know I love, love, love writing short stories. I love to read them. (I don’t really have time to read much else!) I write so many, I am now publishing my third Strokes edition! Here comes the sales pitch… And what a deal I have for you! If you bought each of these stories individually, you’d pay $6.93. TODAY, you can buy this anthology for just $0.99!

There are seven stories, no cliff-hangers—these are self-contained short stories with a beginning and a Happy Ever After! And they cover a wide range of themes, from Vikings to Cowboys to Men in Uniform to a lovely little romance set on Mars… Seven stories designed to give you a week’s worth of bedtime pleasure!

I hope you’ll rush to Amazon and get your copy, because no kidding, that price won’t last long.

Comment to tell me which of the seven stories you are dying to read (click on the cover to head to Amazon for the list!), and you will be entered to win one of the previous editions of Strokes. And I’ll be choosing three winners!

UPDATE: The winner is…ButtonsMom!

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I have a new-old story out! One of the stories returned to me by a former publisher. I’ve been working hard to get them all revised/expanded/refreshed so that I can share them with a brand new audience.

This time, it’s Frannie and The Private Dick! If you’ve read the rest of the Night Fall stories, then you know what to expect—humor, some suspense, and lots of sexy bits. Frannie has an extra pinch of humor. I’m sharing the first chapter here for you to sample. I hope you enjoy it—my gift to you!

For a chance to win a free copy of one of Frannie’s prequel books,
tell me how you plan to spend your Saturday!

Hope you enjoy this peek inside! ~DD

Frannie and The Private Dick

Bent on catching her cheating fiancé in the act, Frannie Valentine got sidetracked by a little thing like dying. When she awakens, Frannie learns her pampered life will never be the same, so she turns to the man responsible for her undeadness and demands he take on the responsibility of giving her a little job training—in the PI biz.

Niall Keegan never intended to make himself a mate, but Frannie’s string of minor disasters, which ended with her dying in his arms, took the decision right out of his hands. While the mating part isn’t bad, making the disaster-prone Frannie a PI may just be the death of him.

FREE FOR KINDLE UNLIMITED SUBSCRIBERS!
Get your copy here: Frannie

Chapter One

Francesca Valentine had died and gone to hell. No other explanation made sense. She swam back to awareness through a molasses-thick void to find herself suddenly spat out from a dark womb into a cold, hollow space. Blind, and so still she knew she didn’t breathe, her mind turned over like a sluggish engine before revving into high gear.

Quickly, she assessed what she knew. She lay on a hard surface, covered with a scratchy square of thin fabric, unable to move a muscle. A low whine, like that of an air-conditioner, came from the opposite side of the space. Harsh light shone from above, warming her face, but hurting her closed eyes. So, she probably wasn’t blind after all. But she was definitely dead. Stone-cold. Her chest wasn’t moving in and out, but she didn’t feel starved for air.

She knew who she was and what had killed her, but hadn’t a clue what new fix she’d landed herself in. From nearby came the scrape of footsteps and a tentative humming, then… Read the rest of this entry »