The newsletter contest (see September 16th’s blog for the details) continues until the 30th!!

Background Work
By Christine Price

So, I probably didn’t have to come up with the Society for In Darkness Bound. (For those who haven’t had a chance to pick up a copy quite yet, I won’t ruin any surprises by telling you that the Society is a shadowy organization that investigates the disappearance of our main character, Chris). But having “a cop” investigate everything just didn’t sit right for me. What do I know about police procedures, besides what I’ve seen on TV? And really, in a paranormal thriller-romance, do “mundane” authorities really work? Are they enough, especially when encountering all of the wonderful, creepy strangeness that can stalk you from the darkness?

Hence, The Society.

Don’t get me wrong, the focus of the book is our main characters, Chris, Vance and Simon, as they try to navigate the dim hallways and deep-seated psychosis of their captor. But I felt like I needed something more. Something to flesh out my world and offer that extra layer of “WTF is going on here?” The Society gave me a chance to do that. I got two very cool secondary characters out of the bargain as well as another way to express myself through a mysterious conglomerate of people that’s not inherently evil (maybe).

I found as I was writing In Darkness Bound that I came up with a lot of background material for the Society. Most of which doesn’t make it into the book. While the romance was forefront in my mind, I had this elaborate background slowly forming. Not including it, but knowing it was there, was like having their extra support net while I was scaling the trapeze of my first novel-length project. I felt like I had a brand new world I’d constructed, though the book was set entirely in New York.

It also gave me the perfect excuse to expand from a single book into a budding series, but I’ll get into that at another time.

Some of my favourite authors seem to have done the same thing, and it’s always drawn me deeper into the world. Take Sherrilyn Kenyon for example. In her first book, Fantasy Lover, you had no idea that she was going to delve into the world of the Dark Hunters, save for the barest hint when Kyrian walked by. Yet, I have a feeling that she had the entire cosmology at least marginally planned out when she was writing it and it made the book so much more interesting for me in retrospect. Or even Frank Herbert in Dune. You learn next-to-nothing about the Bene Gesserit (save that they’re evil old women with precognisance and a serious love of eugenics), but it’s everything left unsaid that makes them appealing and mysterious. By not going into great detail about them, Herbert gives them power, because nothing is more powerful than your reader’s imagination.

What do you think? Can you tell when an author has done the background work, even when it might not go into great detail? Does it entice you? Pull you in? Make you want to learn more? Or is it just a little irritating when they don’t just spill their guts and tell you what’s going on?

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Data Collection by Dalhousie, Dr. Donna L.

Patient 331 New, confused. His powers unknown.

Patient 289 No longer viable in the test pool, he remains in isolation.

Patient 77 Reclassified to staff status. Useful, malleable.

Confined in a sterile research facility and treated like a lab rat, Chris is alone and terrified. His special powers are his only escape, allowing him to psychically connect with other patients.

Alone in his cell for longer than he can remember, Vance is hungry. When newcomer Chris makes a mental connection, Vance is intrigued and soon wants more than just conversation.

Chris and Vance seek comfort with each other, and with Simon—the only staff member who’s shown them a hint of compassion. Their relationships develop during stolen moments, and they turn their thoughts to escape. But as Dr. Dalhousie’s madness spirals, more than cell walls threaten to keep them apart…

BUY HERE

I spent yesterday with my cousin and his partner, walking around downtown Hot Springs. We had lunch at a tea room I hadn’t known existed. Went to an art exhibit in one of the old, converted bath houses. Trailed through a bath house that was converted to a museum, and then went shopping at an antique store. I came home with a lithograph, a print, costume books, and a silver and mother-of-pearl necklace. Lovely day all in all. On our way home, I took them to a catfish restaurant. They’re from Seattle and hadn’t had that southern fried delicacy—if you can imagine that! Then of course, since we were so hot and tired from all the exercise, we turned on the night light and jumped into the pool for a swim.

I was in bed by ten o’clock. And awake and posting this at three!

I’m thinking I must have hit at least three of those “Simple Delights” from my mini-book yesterday. Here’s another: checking the stats of Pleasing Sir.

Thanks to everyone who bought the book and made my “straight-to-Kindle” experiment a success. I’ll be doing that again!

Wynter selected a winner from among yesterday’s posters, and that person is…Brandy W! Brandy, Wynter will send you a book later today! ~DD

The newsletter contest (see September 16th’s blog for the details) continues until the 30th. Today’s blog contest winner is posted at the bottom of this blog. Thanks to everyone who played and wished me well! ~DD

Is First Person Too Close for Comfort?

by Wynter Daniel

Thanks to Delilah for inviting me to guest blog here today. I am in awe of the staggering number of great erotic romances she has published.

Like most erotic romances, all my stories are written in third person. This is a given for most authors. I have written stories in first person, years ago when I dabbled in the young adult market. Most YA stories are presented in first person, although I’m not exactly sure why. I guess first person brings the reader in closer with the protagonist and so many teenagers want so desperately to feel a part of something, even if that something is fiction.

But erotic romance and erotica are a whole different animal from YA. As a writer, putting pen to paper (or fingers to keys) and expressing intimate sexual expression is definitely easier when those expressions are happening to him, to her, to John or to Nancy. When you inject me, I or my, it all feels so personal. Same goes for readers, I think.

So imagine my surprise when I started writing a short erotica story in first person. Sometimes a character just comes to me and I have to immediately work on the story. I wrote the first scene of Customer Service—my upcoming Exotica release with Ellora’s Cave—in one sitting, not even very aware that it was in first person.

I went back the next day and tried to rewrite it in third person, but it was as if my muse had turned his back on me. The scene fell flat. So I went back to the original and kept going. It turned into one of those pieces that practically wrote itself. I suppose sometimes the story takes over and the author is merely the channel.

The heroine is a professional mystery shopper, someone who tests customer service in stores and restaurants, a job I have dabbled with on occasion over the past five years. Maybe that’s part of the reason it felt so natural to write in first person. (Not that I have EVER had an experience similar to my protagonist!)

Customer Service is also more erotica than my usual erotic romance.

But you be the judge. Customer Service releases on September 30. Here’s a little about it:

Mystery shopper Carly Weber’s husband divorced her for a snooty sales woman, leaving Carly with a bruised and battered self-image. When she evaluates a new sex toy and lingerie store, she finds much more than kinky gear. One by one and then together, two hunky salesmen pleasure her and give her the best customer service of her life, restoring her confidence in the process.

You’ll find an excerpt HERE.

Comment on my post and I will enter you in a drawing to win my last EC Quickie, Getting Even with Warren.

From DD: The winner of the blog contest prize package is (by random number generator)…Natalie! Natalie, be sure to email me with your snail mail address. Congrats!

Both contests continue! But one prize will be awarded tomorrow!
Post a comment here today for one chance to win. Post a comment at Everything Erotic for another! See details in Thursday’s post about the prizes and how to win my newsletter contest too!

Well, she’s here. Those of you who pre-ordered should have gotten notices from Amazon yesterday that the book shipped. I hope you all pick up copies. Then, as always, let me know what you think and whether you’d like to read more stories set in that world. ~DD

“In Darkness Captured, the extraordinary Delilah Devlin combines two blistering hot genres—women’s erotic fiction and paranormal romance—and the result is a masterwork of vampire erotica that’s almost too torrid to handle! The decidedly adult adventure of a passionate werewolf who’s willing to storm the gates of hell to rescue a princess from the clutches of a demon, Devlin’s Darkness Captured is dark, sexy, and absolutely sizzling. Shapeshifter love has never been hotter!” HarperCollins

“Devlin creates memorable characters with exceptional emotional depth. Her magical worldbuilding sets an atmospheric scene for a fast-paced story. The sexual tension runs high and the encounters are smokin’ hot.” 4 Stars, RT Book Reviews

To read another steamy expert, hit this link: Everything Erotic. Be sure to post a comment for another chance to win!

The contest continues! Post a comment here today to qualify for one contest. See details in Thursday’s post about the prizes and how to win my newsletter contest too!

Can you stand it? The wait? Okay, so maybe you’re not as excited as I am. The last Dark Realm book, my last book for Avon. And I threw out all the stops. Which means, if you want a really wild, no-holds-barred erotic novel, this is the one. I promise. And it won’t be like anything you’ve ever read, because I swear only my deepest, darkest fantasies were written into this one story. Don’t worry about payday. You don’t want Starbucks today. Go order the book!

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

The sand beyond the fortress undulated like a lover’s curving back, dunes lifting and falling, swept side to side by the sighing wind.

Marduk searched the ground beneath him, frantically seeking some sign of her passing, but the wind had obliterated her tracks.

Not until he saw the lillum circling like vultures, did he release a deep relieved sigh.

He flattened his wings, diving toward the ground beneath them, then pulled back to settle on the sound beside Gabriella.

Three female lillum landed opposite to Gabriella’s writhing body, folding back their black wings. Aya, the leader of their small flock, stepped forward, her toe touching Gabriella’s buttocks. “Is she precious to you, Master?”

As always, he was careful to hide his interest. If I treated her well, do you think she’d flee to the desert to escape me? he said, sending the message with his mind.

Her face, as shiny and dark as obsidian, was split by a smile. Long black fangs slid from beneath her upper and lower lips to interlock. “Can we taste?”

She’s weakened. Why not wait until later in Irkalla’s chambers?

“Our queen will likely drain her beyond use for us. It’s been so long since any of us tasted of the living.”

Aya, take your drink, but only a sip. She must appear tonight, and I have to make her presentable.

As the lillum surrounded her, bending their slender, dark forms over Gabriella, Marduk suppressed his revulsion. Lilith’s children were among the oldest demon hybrids in this realm. Their appetites and minds were primitive and rapacious.

Aya rolled Gabriella to her back. Gabriella’s eyes remained open, but unfocused, no doubt still in the thrall of her escalating nightmare. He’d warned her what would happen. Yet, if he touched her now, wakened her from her dream, she’d have another nightmare to add to the one currently gripping her mind.

So he left her in that other world while the three demons bent over her neck and both wrists, their black incisors sinking deeply as they supped. Wings stiffened as their voices joined in an eerie chorus that seemed to intertwine and become one, in a high ululating tone that pierced his ears.

Enough, he said softly.

Their disappointed sighs sounded deceptively soft and girlish, but their heads rose, blood drenching their lips. Then they spiraled straight into the air, laughing as they darted toward the fortress.

Marduk studied Gabriella, noting the quivering breaths, her widened eyes. When he pulled her from Hell, she’d have little relief once she caught sight of him. Still, this was all part of the lesson she must learn. She might have continued to think him as just another man—easily led by his desires.

Now, she’d think twice about defying him again. He reached out and touched one taloned claw against her hip.

Gabriella sucked in a deep breath, her eyes blinking as she returned. Her face turned toward him. Then her mouth opened around long, shrill scream.

She rolled from under his talon, then froze.

He knew she was sunk again in the dark time. He touched her again. Only when you are with me, when I touch you, are you free of Hell.

She remained rigid beneath him, her face turning to peer at him over her shoulder. “Marduk?”

I will take you back.

Her eyes filled slowly, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t stay here. With you. I want to go home.”

You accepted my invitation.

“You compelled me to touch that glass.”

If you hadn’t been ready to leave, ready to be seduced, you would never have succumbed to my lure. Come, you are tired and thirsty. Let me care for you.

She broke with his gaze and stared ahead of her. “I’m afraid of this place. Of the terrors it holds. I don’t know how to go about making a life for myself.”

So long as you obey me, you have nothing to fear. I will protect you. Provide for you.

“I’m afraid of needing you,” she said in a soft, broken voice.

Heady satisfaction filled him. If she feared it, then she was tempted to surrender. Climb onto my back, darling, but never let your touch leave my skin.

She scraped at her tears, leaving streaks of dirt staining her cheeks. Her lips curved downward, but her hand lifted to the top of his leathery claw while he pulled it up to help her rise. She came shakily to her feet, her eyes wide as her gaze swept his dragon form. “I saw your aura before, when I looked into the mirror. I knew what you must be in truth, but…you’re more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

Marduk’s mouth opened, stretching back. He was pleased she wasn’t frightened of him in this form. That she found him “beautiful.” Climb onto me. We must head back and prepare for Irkalla’s feast. Another day I will fly with you here if you like.

Her head lowered, not responding to his suggestion, but she smoothed her hands over his shoulders and stepped on the edge of his wing, which he held rigid until she was seated on his shoulders between the wings.

Then he lifted his wings and flapped downward, ignoring her gasp and the way her hands found purchase on the ridged scales at the back of his neck. He lifted into the air, soaring, and turning slowly back toward the fortress.

He felt her lean forward, scanning the ground they flew past and heard more gasps.

Beneath them lay bleached bones of creatures large and small, half-buried in the sand that hid then revealed them as the wind surged. The desert was a graveyard for demons, and she might have remained among them if he hadn’t found her in time.

As the setting sun burned brightly at the horizon, they rushed toward the fortress walls. He tilted his wings, aligning his body with the narrow street outside his tower door and set down.

She climbed down without encouragement. When she turned back, he was once again in his human form. As naked as she was. Her glance slid over his body, snagging on his growing erection.

Her body reacted to the sight, her posture easing into a feminine stance, with thighs clamped closed and breasts lifted.

Her nipples tightened, peaking instantly.

He hid a smile and held out his hand.

She slipped hers inside his and turned toward the door. But she stumbled and stared straight ahead at the people who’d climbed down from their stoops to catch a glimpse of the dragon and his woman.

Her gaze clung to two men in particular, who seemed equally frozen until one of them grabbed the arm of the taller individual and pushed him toward an alleyway.

Marduk wondered at Gabriella’s fascination, but she shook herself, turned to give him a tight smile, and entered his tower without saying a word.

The contest continues! Post a comment here today to qualify for one contest. See details in Thursday’s post about the prizes and how to win my newsletter contest!

Need more reasons to click on the cover and go order your copy? So you do know the sex is gonna be hot, right?

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

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

For Gabriella, the passage of time was measured by the pounding of her heart as blood pumped through her body in a heavy, wanton beat. Her skin, tender still from the lashing she’d received by the vines, was hot and exquisitely sensitized to every caress of The Master’s hands and lips. Her reddened nipples never receded, remaining hard and distended. Her clit stayed engorged and throbbing. She restlessly scissored her legs, craving friction to heat her core.

He’d carried her to the bed, water streaming from their bodies, and laid her in the center before coming over her. Just as she’d envisioned, she’d watched him over his shoulder in the mirror as each flex of his shoulders and back animated the dragon tattooed on his back, making the wings raise up and down and the tail undulate with every rise and fall of his buttocks. He’d fucked her again on the bed, without preliminaries, thrusting straight, powering so hard her lungs expelled air in harsh gasps.

Feeling languid, boneless, and drifting toward sleep, she moaned when his large hands parted her again, and she gazed down between their bodies, watching as he smoothed over her skin, his burnished hand caressing pale, pink curves.

For the first time, she noted the ring he wore on one hand. A raised crest with a six-sided star, a large blood-red cabochon at the center and small multi-colored jewels studding each point of the star—all sitting atop a crudely made ring that looked forged from brass and iron. Light refracted off the center of the cabochon and the smooth stone seemed to glow for a moment until he moved his hand again and the illusion faded.

She quickly lost interest in the ring when his hand slid down her belly and cupped her pussy. Two fingers eased inside her, and she sucked in a breath that hissed through clenched teeth.

“Have I hurt you?” he asked, his raised brows showing no particular concern, only curiosity.

“No, but your fingers feel cold inside me.”

“That’s because your woman’s channel is hot.” Long, thick fingers swirled inside her. “And wet. I find I’m very, very thirsty.”
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The contest continues! Post a comment here today to qualify for one contest. See details in Thursday’s post about the prizes and how to win my newsletter contest!

I overslept today. Not a bad thing, I guess, since I’m trying to kick this cold. Anyway…back to the book. What’s not to love about a story where a woman is torn between two men—one the honorable werewolf warrior, Guntram, and her captor, the mysterious and compelling Marduk, the Master of the Demons. Haven’t met him yet? Read on!

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Gabriella pounded the demon’s back, her head still tucked close, until she grew weary. Her body shuddered with her strained, quivering gasps and soft sobs. The pummeling was only tiring her, while the monster that carried her didn’t flinch once or slow his steady pace. When sunlight warmed her upturned bottom, she turned her head to take a peek.

They’d left the dim hall and entered blazing sunshine. Beneath her was a walkway paved with golden sandstone and framed by crenellated rock. Beyond the notched wall to one side spread a sandy desert, to the other side stretched a fortress so enormous it took away her breath.

This was Hell?

The Master of the Demons ducked, and she grabbed for his waist to keep from swinging against doorframe. The stone-walled passage led to a stairwell that circled downward. At a wooden door, he kicked it open and strode inside, bending farther to deposit her in the middle of a nest of satin pillows.

She scrambled backwards on a large bed as soon as he released her, scraped away her tears with the backs of her hands, and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen,” she said, her voice low and fierce, “but I’ll fight you.”

His strange dark eyes glittered, and he snorted. Then he turned away, and at last, she drew a deep breath, ready to gather her scattered wits and figure out just how bad her situation was.
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