The winner of the free download of one of the prequel books is Mary!

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I’m late getting this posted today! If I haven’t mentioned it before, my daughter is expecting to give birth at any time. Last night, she thought she might be going into labor, so I stayed at her place babysitting dogs and cats and a kidlet, while she made another trip to the emergency room. It was a false alarm, but now we’re all wrung out.

Today, I thought I’d introduce you to the last of the Triple Horn Brand stories. Think Texas cowboys, a hot summer on a cattle ranch… The theme running through all the books is the fact the Triplehorn boys never, ever moved on from their first sweethearts. The books are a bit sweeter, and a couple of them involve women who were inappropriate matches back in the day, but they’ve all been given second chances to fall in love all over again. This last one even involves a little ménage play, something I know you love to see with these Texas cowboys. 🙂

Hope you enjoy the snippet. A Long, Hot Summer releases on August 13th, so you have time to read the other two books before diving into this one. If you’d like to go ahead and pre-order the book, click on the cover! I do a nice little wrap-up at the end of this book so you can see all the Happy-Ever-Afters…

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of one of the prequel books!

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.

Product Warnings: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.

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 how she’d react. Would she 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 »

In case you didn’t know (and I’d understand why—my release schedule has been very busy the past couple months), I released a new collection of my own short stories a little while ago. It’s the second volume of Strokes, and it’s filled with naughtiness. Enjoy the excerpt! It’s from “Tailgating at the Cedar Inn” which was one of two stories recently published in Penthouse Magazine. Yes, I’ve been in Penthouse—my mama’s so proud! 🙂

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of this book!

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…

I stepped out of the shower onto chipped and cracked aqua blue tiles with grout so dingy I couldn’t tell what color it had been. Not that the bathroom was dirty, thank god. Just old. Like the rest of the 60’s-built motel I’d found on the little back country road.

Standing before the sink, I toweled my hair then shook my head like a dog, not caring where the droplets landed. The mess wasn’t one I’d have to clean. For one last night, I could be irresponsible, messy, even if only in a small way.

I draped the towel over the edge of the old white tub and sauntered naked into the small room with the double bed. The air smelled of tobacco and industrial cleansers. The bedding looked clean if a little nappy from wear, but I peeled back the quilt-top and tossed it on the floor anyway. Pristine white sheets beckoned.

Just as I lay back, sighing with relief, sounds from outside the room jarred me from my happy haze. Tires squealed, masculine laughter bellowed through the thin walls, and car doors slammed.

A sigh escaped and I stared at the bared rafters above. The laughter faded. I reached across to flip off the switch to the nightstand lamp with its yellowed shade. Lying in the darkness, I willed my body to relax, one limb at a time. That day, I’d driven three hundred miles. I’d have gone another fifty for a decent hotel, but the shorter route my Garmin dictated led me through narrow two-lane roads deep in the Ozark Mountains. I doubted I’d have found anything nicer.

Maybe I should have stuck to the Interstate, but I’d wanted to shave some miles. Little did I know the route would keep my foot busy pushing on the gas pedal then the brake the whole way. Exhausted with nerves shattered, I’d seen the crooked Vacancy sign outside the Cedar Inn and made my decision on the spot, swerving into the empty gravel parking lot. Not until I’d opened the door to my tiny, musty room did I have second thoughts about my decision. But how bad could the room really be? I’d turned on the swamp cooler set into a window frame and felt my hair frizz instantly.

Not that I’d really cared. No one was around to impress. Other than the clerk at the front desk, a skinny, twenty-something redneck with puppy dog eyes, the place was deserted. At the thought, I’d shivered a little bit, double-bolted my room door and checked the lock on the window. Visions of the shower scene from Psycho didn’t put me off taking a long, lukewarm soak to wash away the road grime and sweat. 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 »

Today’s theme is life in a small town. I’ve lived in a few of those. Sometimes, it’s nice knowing your neighbors, but sometimes, it’s a pain in the ass because everyone knows your business. Here, Jackson’s lucky everyone knows his…

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

These cowboys ride hard…

There’s a reason Western romance novels never go out of fashion. The cowboy is an iconic figure embodying the dichotomy of the fiercely independent, earthy alpha male crossed with the male as a nurturer and protector. Cowboys take care of their women in every possible way. Wild and wayward women are gentled by the scent of horse and cow and the sight of sun-kissed skin, the feel of work-hardened thighs and arms, and the sound of a deep-voiced Texas drawl.

Contributors at the top of the Western romance genre, including Charlene Teglia, Randi Alexander, Cat Johnson, and editor, Delilah Devlin, have corralled strong and memorable characters ranging from ranch hands to cattle barons, to a rodeo star and a feisty female gunslinger. Traversing romantic settings from Montana, Texas, California, Mexico, and the Outback of Australia, the stories in Cowboy Lust are risky and risqué, full of studs in spurs hot enough to send you to a vacation on a dude ranch!

Jackson Lowry cussed softly when he spotted the blue lights spinning at the roadblock just ahead. Too late to turn back now. He’d only draw more attention.

Squaring his jaw, he rolled down his window and forced a polite smile as he peered into the darkness at the sheriff’s deputy checking IDs with a flashlight.

As soon as the deputy waved the car in front of him to move along and turned to watch the black pickup roll forward, Jackson’s tension eased a fraction.

Maynard Colby’s expression turned from crisply professional to worried in a second a soon as he recognized him. “Dammit, Jackson, where have you been?”

“Around. Why?”

A soft moan sounded beside him, and Jackson reached surreptitiously beside him to tap the tarp covering his precious load.

“You didn’t hear?” At Jackson’s vague expression, Maynard stepped onto the truck rail and leaned toward Jackson. “It’s Sammie Jo. Her car was found in Shooter’s parking lot, the door wide open. No one’s seen her. Looks like she’s been snatched.”

Jackson cleared his throat. “How serious is this gettin’?”

“It’s only been a couple of hours, but Sammi Jo’s daddy is buckin’ to get the sheriff to call in the FBI, the CIA, ATF—and whatever other agency his money can buy to find her. I tried callin’ you, but your phone kept goin’ to voice mail. After the way things went down at the weddin’ last Sunday, I don’t blame you a bit for layin’ low, but I thought you’d wanna know.”

Another sound, this time a snort, sounded beside him.

Maynard’s gaze cut to the dirty tarp folded over a moving bundle on the floor of the cab. A ruddy eyebrow shot up.

“What’s goin’ on, Jackson?”

Jackson rolled his eyes, then pulled up the corner of the tarp to reveal a bound and gagged Sammie Jo whose eyes glittered furiously back at both men.

Maynard barked a laugh, then tightened his lips. “This time you’ve gone and done it, boy. This is seriously fucked up.“ He laughed again, then tipped his hat to Sammi Jo. “No disrespect meant, missy.”

Jackson cleared his throat. “Don’t s’pose you can forget about this?”

Maynard’s gaze shot to Sammie Jo again, raked her once as though ensuring she didn’t look to be in any real danger, then tipped back his cowboy hat. “Tell ya what. I’ll put a bug in the sheriff’s ear, but she better come walkin’ through the po-lice house doors come Monday mornin’.”

“Not a word to her daddy?”

One corner of Maynard’s mouth crooked up. “Man’s already caused enough problems. Deserves to cool his heels a couple o’ days. Don’t do nothin’ I’ll have to arrest you for.”

With a nod, Jackson rolled up the window and pulled past the barricade. In his side mirror, he watched as Maynard crossed to the other deputy’s car and both men bent over laughing.

“See that, Sammi Jo?” he murmured, not expecting an answer because he’d made double-damn sure he’d tied some serious knots and gagged her pretty mouth. “I’m not the only one who thinks you need a good paddlin’.”

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Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:

Lauren Dane
Shelli Stevens
Leah Braemel
Jody Wallace
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
Lissa Matthews
Mandy M. Roth
McKenna Jeffries
Shiloh Walker
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
TJ Michaels
Myla Jackson

Hey there! Since I have a chance to play on my own blog today, I thought I’d tell you about some free stuff you might want! Plus, I have two exciting collections ready to release, one right after the other, and filled with smokin’ hot, high-octane stories about the heroes we women love! Take a look!

Smokin’ Hot Firemen — July 16, 2013

If you are an Amazon. com customer, don’t pay attention to that official release date because this book is shipping right now!

Below are pictures of the front and back of trading cards I had created to celebrate the release of the new book. And if you’d like to read snippets from the stories inside this volume, follow the countdown celebration occurring right now on the Smokin’ Hot Firemen website! There you’ll find sexy snippets, personal stories about the inspirations for the authors’ stories, and prizes! We also have a Facebook page where we post pics of handsome firefighters and chat about her obsession with suspenders.  😉

If you’d like trading cards, email me directly at delilah@delilahdevlin.com!

 High Octane Heroes — September 3, 2013

Again, don’t pay attention to that official date! Amazon tells me I’ll have my copy August 15th!

We’re getting geared up for the countdown over at the High Octane Heroes website. To entice you over there, we are giving away prizes. Be sure to check us out! Also, we have a brand new Facebook Fan Page for you to “Like!” Stay tuned for more fun happenings!

In the meantime, if you want trading cards, you know what to do…

Winner and a Brand New Contest!

The winner of June’s $20 Amazon gift card is…Melissa Keir (June 13)! I’ll be emailing Melissa shortly! Congrats!!

To make it simple, I’ll continue this contest for July…

What can you win? An Amazon gift card worth $20!

What do you have to do to win? Simple. Comment on my blog—on any posting, from now through July 31st! I’ll choose a winner at random from among all the comments. Good luck!

My random number generator chose a winner—Amber! Congratulations, Amber,
I’ll be in touch today! ~DD

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After not having a release out for a while to having 5 out in the space of a month… Crazy days, huh? I hope you’ve all got your copies of Lost Souls, and that you’re devouring it, and finding that one particular scene… I would love to hear what you thought about THAT!

In the meantime, this one’s not scheduled to release until mid-July, but Amazon informed me that it’s shipping on the 3rd! So I thought I’d better give you a little advanced warning! This one’s hot! Smokin’ Hot! And I’ve got a teeny excerpt here to prove it!  

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

(I forgot to name last week’s Snippet winner, so I’m heading over to do that now!)

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…

I held my iPhone in front of me as far as my arm could reach and took a picture. Then I quickly sent it to my Facebook page. Yes! I don’t know how Syl managed to talk me into it, but I’m at HardCox!!! Happy Birthday, me!

I posted the photo, then slipped my phone back into my purse, which I’d placed beneath the small round table where Sylvia, Heather, and I sat next to the raised stage.

“You took a picture of yourself?” Sylvia giggled and held out her hand. “Give me that phone!”

“No way, you’ll just post pictures of the dancers’ asses.”

“And their hoses!”

My eyes bugged. “My mama would be horrified!”

I was already beyond mortified at being here—a male strip club, of all places. Syl didn’t have to add kerosene to the fire burning in my cheeks. But she’d had me at one name, “Johnny Blaze.” Read the rest of this entry »

The winner of Saturday’s contest is Chris Bails! Chris, congrats! Email me about your prize! ~DD

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So you know Lost Souls has plenty of action and sexy goin’s on, but you probably want to know a little about the magic.

About that… I study a bit. Not sayin’ how much because that’s between me and the moon and trees, but I know some things. What I don’t do very well is create wonderful spells. Cait has the same shortcoming (how convenient is that, right?). Her partner even notes how long it takes her to write a not very good piece of poetry to accompany a very important spell in the book.

But for spells that have a history, that maybe belonged to her mother or Morin, sometimes, I have to pull in the big guns. In book one, I had help from Virginia E with “Mama’s Spell” in the opening scene. In the scene you’re about to read, I fashioned the broom spell, but author Lacey Thorn helped me with cleansing/casting the circle. She’s really very good, and if I get much farther along in the series, I’m gonna tap her again (that somehow didn’t sound quite right but might be interesting too! ).

Enjoy another glimpse into Lost Souls—which releases tomorrow, folks!

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Cait opened her belt and unzipped her jeans. “Why does magic always require someone gettin’ naked?”

“Not always. Sometimes, da spirits like a little pomp. Den you wear a witch’s robes. But right now, gal, you have ta humble yourself.”

“I’m plenty humble.”

“You’re plenty mouthy. Strip! You da one wit’ da favor ta ask.”

Cait stripped off her tank top, toed off her boots, and shoved her pants down her legs.

Celeste gave her body a look, her gaze pointedly lingering on her bra and panties. “Ain’t got not’ing I ain’t seen before. Or dat Morin ain’t touched.”

With her cheeks burning, Cait removed her underwear, shivering a little in the air wafting from a small fan set atop the psychic’s counter.

“Stand in da circle.”

“Which way’s north?”

Celeste pointed, and Cait aligned her body to face that direction.

Celeste gathered short black candles from a shelf and placed one in each point of the pentagram. Then she placed the other items Cait would need in the north corner. She handed Cait a handmade broom made from the stiff silk of broomcorn and stepped back into a shadowy corner.

Remembering another time she’d prepared a magic circle with her mama while standing in their kitchen along with a child’s spell she’d written, Cait held the broom.

“Sweep, sweep,” she whispered, brushing from the center of the circle.

“Sweep away the dark. Brush away the bad.
With whisk and wish, I command thee.” Read the rest of this entry »