Psst! See my note at the bottom of this post! ~DD

Thanks so much to Delilah for the chance to visit! I write hot Regency romances as Maggie Robinson for Kensington Brava and hotter ones as Margaret Rowe for Berkley Heat. Since March is Women’s History Month, I’ve been thinking a lot about my historical heroines and the difficulties they face simply because they are women.

Some readers complain when a fictional character exhibits too much of a 21st century sensibility, but it’s easy to see why a writer rewrites some boundaries. We’ve sure come a long way, baby. A Regency era wife could own no property of her own; anything she might bring into the marriage belonged to her husband. And even if he was head-over-heels in love with her, he could only leave her money after he was dead, but not gift her property in life. If they were not head-over-heels, a wife could not sue her husband for divorce, even if he was unfaithful or beat her. After 1857, he could sue her, though. If they did separate, the kids belonged to him, no matter what his sins might be. A husband and wife were considered one person in law, and woe to the independent woman who did not marry. Her father would be bossing her around instead.

Sounds pretty grim, doesn’t it? And we’re not even talking about voting. No wonder I don’t want to write about these poor creatures who were totally dependent on men. So my heroines sometimes walk on the wild side of the street, perhaps historically inaccurately, but I can’t help it. They’re not sitting in the parlor stitching samplers waiting for a suitor to come to dispel the boredom, marry him and then die in childbirth.

My current heroine Frederica Wells in Margaret Rowe’s erotic March release Any Wicked Thing is a medieval scholar who writes (accurate) history books, but she finds herself the ward of her childhood friend and adult nemesis Sebastian Goddard, Duke of Roxbury. Devilish Sebastian is the last person in the world who should be in charge of demure Freddie, so sparks fly. Pretty soon Goddard Castle is on fire as Sebastian teaches her all the things he’s learned while she stayed home. But Freddie is a quick learner and gives as good as she gets, doing any wicked thing and then some. ;).

Which Regency ladylike activity would you excel at? Sewing, singing, playing the pianoforte, painting, archery, riding or perhaps something else? Comment to win a copy of Any Wicked Thing!

One disastrous night…

At twenty-one, Sebastian Goddard, heir to the duke of Roxbury, desperately sought diversion from a life smothered by peerage and position. His quest led him to one night of reckless passion, resulting in betrayal by his oldest friend Frederica Wells, and the discovery of his father’s darkest secret. Reeling from the devastation, he embarked on a ten-year debauch that well earned him the nickname–”Lord of Sin.”

One delicious bargain…

Now Sebastian has returned to find his late father’s estate in ruins and Freddie more seductive than ever. He’s determined to drive her from Goddard Castle to pay her back for her deception and to protect his own dark secret. But Freddie makes him an offer he can’t resist…she’ll be his mistress for a month if he’ll consent to sell her the crumbling castle afterward.

Everything he could desire…

The Lord of Sin plans to shock and scandalize Freddie—to tease her every desire and leave her wanting. But his fiery-willed lover soon teaches him the past may not be what it seemed, the present more tempting than he could have imagined, and the future filled with more promise than he dared dream. For thirty-one nights is not nearly enough when you’ve been given a license to do any wicked thing…

www.margaretrowe.net
www.maggierobinson.net

[It always happens! My Access Romance blog doesn’t follow a regular schedule, so I couldn’t plan this in advance. Maggie’s my guest today, but you can also find me at Access Romance, with a pretty picture for you to “Tell Me a Story”. Be sure to say hello to Maggie before heading over to the Access Romance blog. ~DD]

Hey there! I’m heading out of town for a conference, so I’ll only have spotty access to email and this blog. To keep you entertained, I have guests arriving every day. Check out the schedule!

Thursday: Cindy Spencer Pape
Friday: Margaret Rowe
Saturday: Snippet Saturday (moi!)
Sundy: Taige Crenshaw

Enjoy! ~DD

IF THE SHEATH FITS

A brief overview of condom history
By Cindy Spencer Pape

A question that often arises among romance authors is whether or not to have their heroes suit up. Dress the soldier. Wear a raincoat. In other words, use protection, act responsibly, practice safe sex. The condom has become one of the more debated aspects of the romance genre, especially erotic romance.

Arguments on both sides can be fierce. Many authors and readers argue that it’s irresponsible of fiction to not show characters engaging in (and presumably enjoying) safe sex. Others maintain that the romance novel is inherently a fantasy, and to interrupt the moment with mundane precautions would detract from the reader’s enjoyment. While both sides have valid points to be made, the decision gets even trickier when writing a historical romance.

Condoms have been available, in one form or another, for a long, long time. Whether or not our historical heroes would have had ready access to them or any inclination to use them depends on a lot of variables: when and where the hero lives being the most important. Wealth, religion, educational level—all of these can factor in. And of course, depending on how it was made and what it was made of, the efficacy varied wildly. So to get it right, an author actually needs to know a little bit about the origins of the little foil packet.

When I started writing Marry Me, Marietta, for a special Ellora’s Cave project a few years ago, I had to do some serious digging to find out what my Victorian physician hero would have access to and use. Of course, once I started, I became fascinated by the research and had to know more.

Nobody knows exactly when the condom was invented. There are Egyptian hieroglyphics roughly 3000 years old that show a man wearing what looks like a linen sheath over his penis. Nobody is sure if this was to prevent disease or pregnancy, or just for decoration. There are rumors of the Romans using this or that for contraception, but no definite references to what could be considered a condom. Cave paintings in France dated to around 100 AD again show men wearing a colored sheath, but again, we have no idea why.

However, people have been trying to not get pregnant, for one reason or another, almost as long as others have been trying to get pregnant. And it’s just common sense to put a barrier between the sperm and the womb. So the use of homemade condoms could go back—well—as at least as long as humans have been making sausage. Given the obviousness of a length of sheep gut with a knot tied in it, it seems likely that these relatively risky versions have been used for a very long time. Keep in mind though, that most of Europe was Catholic through the Middle Ages, and that the Catholic Church considered contraception of any kind (even withdrawal) a major sin. So while the concept may well have existed, it probably wasn’t discussed publicly or in common use.
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Psst! Yesterday’s winner is named at the end of this post!

My Lines

By Kate Hill

Everywhere you turn, on movies and in magazines, the message always seems to be there’s something wrong with getting older. Whether it’s face cream, thigh cream or plastic surgery, we’re surrounded by products offering a magical solution to the aging problem. While it’s great to be well groomed and fit at any age, there’s nothing wrong with mature looks, either. Regardless of the outer package, everyone ages and there’s a unique beauty to people who age naturally.

Last night I saw a commercial for face cream that suggested anyone with lines can use their product. Personally, I like my lines. I’ve waited almost forty years for these crow’s feet and I have no desire to turn back the clock.

Even when I was younger, I preferred older partners. There’s nothing sexier than a man with lines around his eyes that show he’s lived. The rugged look most definitely does it for me.

If the media is any indication of the way most people feel about aging, then I’m probably in the minority, and I don’t mind at all. How do you feel about aging and “imperfections?”

About Kate

What do trips around the world, endless nights of breathtaking sex, and a muscular, 6-foot 3-inch, brown-haired, blue-eyed significant other have to do with Kate Hill? Absolutely nothing, but she can dream, can’t she? In reality Kate is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies.

When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, and researching vampires and Viking history. Visit Kate online at https://www.kate-hill.com.

Mate Marks Cursed: Wild Woods by Kate Hill
Coming in March 2011 from Changeling Press

The pain will come later.

After a magical artist tattoos an intriguing demon on her skin, Madison meets a gorgeous stranger with an alarming reputation and a fiercely sexy winged creature with an attitude. She senses they are one and the same. Despite the danger surrounding them, she’s drawn to them by an inexplicable force.

Half-human and half-demon, Brody has spent his life fighting against his evil birthright. Despite the hatred of the townsfolk, he uses his supernatural powers to defend them from his foul bloodline.

Neither Madison nor Brody can fight their lust or deny their love, but hell is out to get him. When everyone close to him, especially his destined mate, is targeted by eight generations of Blazewood demons, the only way to fight evil is with evil.

“I can smell you. Delicious. I could eat you,” rasped that sinister voice.

“Eat this!” Madison leapt up and, wielding the branch like a golf club, slammed him in the gut.

He grunted and doubled over, but at the same time managed to rip the branch from her hand.

Madison took off running again, hoping she’d hurt him sufficiently to delay the chase long enough for her to find her way back to the path toward the town.
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If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
for a free download of this book!

Four Sworn has been nominated for Best Erotic Romance (Non-Traditional Lifestyle) in 2010!

But it needs your vote to win! Here’s the link to the page. Be sure to check out the list of all the nominees in all their wonderful categories, then go vote for Delilah’s!

The Romance Reviews Voting Page

“…what you get is explosive, emotional and endearing, something Delilah Devlin does better than anyone…” Whipped Cream Reviews

There’s a wild child trapped inside her, and they’re hell-bent on unleashing it…

As the pretty daughter of the town whore, Shanna Davies has always tried hard to toe the line. But she just can’t help it. Her boyfriend, Bo Crenshaw, has lured her untamed spirit out to play once too often. It’s time to get the hell out of Dodge and make a new start where no one knows her past. After she fulfills one last, wicked fantasy.

Shanna is Bo’s first everything. First kiss, first sexual playmate, first love. Yet he’s never managed to convince her that he accepts her—good girl and bad—just as she is. So, she wants a memorable send off? No problem. He’ll give her one that’ll make her think twice about leaving.

On the appointed night, Shanna expects nerves. Yet once she crosses the threshold, the prospect of surrendering to a night of unrestrained passion with Bo and the three Kinzie brothers makes her mouth water—and her courage dry up.

But she asked for it, and now she’s not about to blink first in this game of sexual chicken…

Warning: Four lusty cowboys prove a little domination goes a long way in breaking a stubborn woman to saddle. Lots of spanking, binding, flogging, and double-dipping can keep a girl on her toes, her back, her belly, her knees…

“Dance with me, cowboy.”

Bo Crenshaw didn’t know what surprised him more. Her wanting to dance—or her asking him. She always cringed over her inability to master a simple two-step, and she usually avoided him like the plague in public.

But he wasn’t arguing. It was Friday night after a long week of wrangling cattle. He wanted to replace the musky smell in his nostrils with something a whole lot sweeter. Giving his drinking buddy a shrug, he let Shanna Davies tug his hand and lead him onto the dance floor, pretending a reluctance he didn’t feel.

Not that dancing with Shanna wasn’t pleasurable—if a little painful. She danced the same way she lived—a little too fast and completely out of synch with everyone around her.
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I woke up to find my Microsoft Outlook email program broken. After a few minutes of panic, I navigated Bill Gate’s site to find a fix. It’s taking FOREVER to run, and I’m not really in the mood to be creative or funny today! 😕

So, how about one of my “getting to know you” questions?

Everyone hears discussions that they consider boring.
What topic can put you to sleep more quickly than any other?

This morning I’m heading to Little Rock to meet with Shayla Kersten to nail down the details for a public presentation our local RWA chapter is doing at the library where we meet. The topic is, “So you think you want to write?” We have the program, all the media stuff, etc. to figure out. It will be the third Saturday in April, so if anyone lives nearby, put it on your calendar!

This week was hectic. A mild word. The red-headed hellion took a part-time job and I took over babysitting while she was at work. I’ve decided I will pay her to stay at home. She came home the second day and her jaw fell to the floor. She couldn’t understand how her house got so messy. I couldn’t understand how two children could be so bad. Still, I did manage to get some work done.

* I completed Handy Men (tentative title), a quickie for Ellora’s Cave, and shipped it to my editor—and yes, it’s about a threesome. These days I can’t conceive of a love story that doesn’t have multiple men in it. One of those dudes has to stay home to help take care of the kids—my heroine’s not going to have the energy to do it by herself!
* I completed Chapter Five of Cat Tails: Bad Moon Rising. I sent it to my webmistress for her to format it and get it up on my site. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s ready for you to read.
* I’m making great headway on my BDSM novella. The hero’s an ex-military cop and sexy as hell. I don’t want to finish it too soon, because then I’d have to say goodbye to Cross McNally.
* I worked with a web designer to put together the template for the Girls Who Bite website. It’s done, now the art will be passed to my webmistress for her to complete the work.

Not a shabby week, huh?

This next week, I do have to finish that BDSM novella, no matter how much I’ll miss Cross and his growly voice. Then I’ll dive into the next project. Something Urban Fantasy. I have this idea about a girl and her… Yeah, sooo not telling you. 😕

The winner of the Jimmy Thomas calendar is named at the bottom of this post! Thanks, everyone, for playing! ~DD

One of my favorite openings was the easiest to write. Newscasts of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina were so very detailed that I sank into these opening pages and pretty much wrote it in a day (with tons of revision, of course, later!). You meet the hero right up front. Then you meet the villain of the piece, and he’s murky and frightening, but you see him from poor Nic’s point of view and learn the horror of who the villain really is. The Dark Realm stories are among my own personal favorites. They were tough to write and I cursed my way through the whole experience, but in the end, I had a quartet of books of the sort I love to read. Not a bad legacy.

“…The electrifying follow-up to INTO THE DARKNESS is a breathless read. Devlin’s intricate vampire society is filled with compelling personalities. The chemistry between the characters is explosive, and the horrific villain will give you goosebumps…the ending will leave you begging for more.” 4 ½ Stars and TOP PICK!, RT BOOKreviews

“…This is a deliciously edgy series with mind-blowing sex scenes that sizzle…Ms. Devlin’s DARK REALM series is devastatingly erotic and pushes the boundaries in both premise and sexual explicitness. Ms. Devlin pens in uncharted territory that will leave the readers breathless and hungering for more…” Paranormal Romance

For eight hundred years Nicolas Montfaucon has dedicated his life to preventing the rebirth of an immortal evil. But now a terrible storm has assaulted unsuspecting New Orleans—and the beast walks the earth once more. “The Devourer” has been awakened, and there is only one in the besieged city who can help Nicolas defeat the foul creature—a mysterious and beautiful enigma who haunts the handsome Revenant’s erotic waking dreams and enflames his passionate obsessions.

Chessa Tomas is not an ordinary policewoman. A vampire, she works only at night, patrolling a seamy and unseen underworld of roiling chaos. Though Nicolas is sensuality incarnate, Chessa wants no part of him or his kind—but she cannot close her eyes to the unholy malevolence that would consume their world. And Nicolas has uncovered the secret lust that rules her—a steaming, uncontrollable desire he intends to unleash, bending Chessa to his will by making her most forbidden fantasies real.

His brother had thought Hell a fiery abyss, but Nicolas Montfaucon knew better. It was wet, smelled like a sewer, and sounded like the rush of collective hopes draining toward the sea.

With a heartbeat as leaden as his footfalls, he followed the sound of flowing water. His rubber boots sank in the rain-soaked grass as he stepped off the cemetery’s entrance road to head toward the water’s edge. Bayou St. John’s previous sluggish ambience had given way to a torrent in the aftermath of the storm. Just as the security team had reported, the waters that breached the levee in the early morning hours spilled into the bayou, raising it well above any thousand-year flood plain.

They couldn’t have planned for a worse scenario. The mausoleum lay in the center of a newly etched basin.

A cold, tight knot of horror settled in his gut, numbing him to the elements, while a soft rain fell like God’s kiss of benediction before the coming battle. The prickling unease lifting the hair on the back of his neck was familiar, but one he hadn’t experienced to this degree since the searing heat and biting sand of Palestine over seven hundred years ago.

Quiet, muffled voices drew him deeper into the cemetery. He followed the blurred edges of a once pristine graveled path, now strewn with long tangled strands of Spanish moss and broken tree branches, around sturdy stone crypts—ones untouched by the raging storm that had drenched New Orleans and changed its landscape irrevocably.

He glanced toward the dark gray clouds giving his team cover for what they must do. At least God hadn’t added one more insurmountable burden to overcome this day.

“Erika, Pasqual?” he called softly as he approached.

They turned with dread tightening their pale faces.

He noted their quick sideways glances and knew their loyalties might be tested. Just the night before one quarry had escaped their net. Did they know his role in the deception that had allowed the newest Born female to flee?

“The crypt is submerged,” Pasqual said, nodding ahead toward the swollen bayou.

Nicolas followed his gaze and found the winged angel that graced the top of the Morel mausoleum, the bottom edge of her robe licked by foaming, lapping waves of dark water.

“We brought a pirogue,” Erika said, shivering despite the humid heat, “but the water’s so swift…”

Nicolas nodded. “I’ll go. We’ll have to tie off the boat on both sides of the bayou to keep it from being swept away.”

“The crypt was solid. The doors were chained,” Pasqual said, his voice strained. “Do you really think he could have escaped?”

Nicolas’s lips curved and tightened. “His sarcophagus was in the center of the cemetery. The bayou jumped its banks and carved a new path—straight through his prison. Do you think that’s coincidental?”
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