I like my horoscope today.

You’re making the most of what you’ve got—and flaunting it so the whole world can see your power! It may feel a little out of lien at first, but you should get some serious praise by the end of the day.

I’m blogging at Access Romance today, talking about fresh starts. I’d love for you to stop by and say hello! Follow the link: Access Romance Blog

Be sure to check out the pics my friend Sasha White took of our Seattle trip. Pay special attention to my doppelganger!

Here’s the link: Sasha’s Blog

I saw this on one of my loops where an author was talking about overcoming the doubt critics can cause, whatever your job or calling. I love it!

“It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.”
Theodore Roosevelt (Paris Sorbonne,1910)

Now, if I could just convince my inner critic to embrace that sentiment.

Most days, I’m scarily focused. The past week, again because I’ve had too much time on my hands to think, I’ve dithered. I’m not a ditherer. I’m a doer. I do…things. (Can you tell how much Grey’s Anatomy I’ve watched lately? I sound like Meridith!)

So just what did I get done this past week?

I played with opening scenes to two new stories. Just slapping down dialogue, trying to figure out who the characters are. Nothing’s solid yet. Very vaporous in fact. I have to keep working them to “gel” stage. But I’m thinking one will be about two men teaching the woman playing with both their passions a lesson. Yeah, I love it when guys turn the table on a woman, take charge, and rewrite “The Rules”.

I revised and shipped MIK-7 and Raw Silk to my new editor at Ellora’s Cave.

I completed a proposal for a new novel and sent it off to my agent. Hopefully, he will find it as much fun as I did and get behind it. Send up a message to whatever deity you worship that he finds it has legs. I love it.

That was all I accomplished writing-wise this week. I have to get motivated to plow deeply into something this next week.

Lastly, a BFF and I booked tickets for a cruise in December. As soon as we paid, I remembered I hadn’t seen my passport in a while. I tore apart my office and couldn’t find it, so yesterday I headed to the post office to apply for a new one. Have to start a countdown list of things to do and purchase before the trip. So if any of you have gone on cruises before, I’d love some advice. This will be my first. She knows someone who works aboard the ship we’ll be sailing on, and he will be our port guide. We plan to get up to plently of mischief aboard. Can you imagine the questions we will ask the crew? We’re both writers, so we’ll be looking for good places to stash a body or have a quick tryst. Murder and mayhem on the high seas!

Yesterday morning, I woke up to silence—inside the house anyway. No hum of electricity. No fan swirling the air. Outside a storm raged. The huge old oak in the backyard creaked and groaned with the wind. I heard an occasional pop and crack from branches falling in the woods. The rain came down in sheets. So naturally I had to stand beneath the deck to watch. I was without power for seven hours and missed my daily blog. I had the house to myself. It was supposed to be a productive day. But best laid plans and all…

I hate that I missed a day of writing, and I hate that I missed my daily blog. I made a vow to make an entry every day, however inane—and those of you who stop by often know I’ve kept it…er, about the inane thing…

Anyway, no progress at all yesterday. I’m hoping I can get back on track today, but I’m feeling compelled to clean up. Something about stale air and the fact I didn’t shower. Now the whole house needs a once over before I can sit at my desk without distraction. It’s a sickness, I know. I did read a book, a rather good one. I’ll have to do a review of it soon to tell you what I thought about it. That’s not so inane, huh?

And I did manage to scratch out some notes for the opening of one of those three stories I need to get started. But I also spent some more time thinking about what I really needed to write, and now I’m vacillating about which stories will make up those three. See why I don’t like time on my hands to think?

Thanks to the ladies who stopped by last night to keep me company during my monthly live chat. It’s always fun, and the hour flies.

Yes, I have a winner for yesterday’s free book, but I’m gonna make you read to the bottom because I’m just mean that way!

I’m having trouble sleeping lately. The problem is with the “when”. Three nights ago, I couldn’t fall asleep until after 4 AM. Two nights ago, I woke up at 4 AM and had to get up to begin working because I was wide awake. So that was two nights in a row of only 4 hours of sleep. Last night I slept 10 and I feel like a complete slug this morning.

I do have sleeping pills the doctor subscribed, but I hate giving up my “lightbulb” moments for the drugs. You know, you lay down, are almost asleep, and the greatest idea in the history of ideas pops into your head? Then you have to get up and write it down, although I have gotten to where I simply keep a pad beside the bed to jot down those random thoughts.

My inability to sleep might have something to do with the fact I’ve finished so many projects lately—the proposal for Beloved Captor, the complete novella for Raw Silk, and the ending of MIK-7. That’s a problem because when I finish one, I have to have another to jump to, something that’s already in the works, at a midpoint, so that I can keep going. Right now, I’m faced with starting three new projects, all at the same time. Which means, my brain is jumping from one idea to another since all three are in the “First Line” stage (which is DEATH to quick progress). I’ve wallowed for two days, then yesterday decided to finish up a short story I’m writing for a lesbian collection, just so that I can be writing SOMETHING.

I’ll head into timed writing sprints today with friends, and hopefully the competition will keep my brain focused. We’ll see. Remind me to do a better job at leapfrogging my projects in the future. They should all be at differing stages. And no, I can’t focus on just one book at a time. If I get frustrated in one, I have to have another to jump to or I’ll do the wallow thing again and accomplish nothing.

So, I’ve managed a really long whine. Sorry. This is my blog, and whatever’s on my mind kinda spills onto the screen. Today, it’s nose to the grindstone, no excuses. Tonight, I’ll be gathering critiques from the authors in the Rose’s Colored Glasses critique group and prepping them for distribution. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get up early enough to load the pics from Lora Leigh’s big party and share a few with you here.

And don’t you think I need to find a pic or a graphic to represent my whines so I can post it at the top each time and you can know whether you want to “go there”? Anybody got a good whiny picture I can use?

Enough whine. You want to know who won yesterday’s prize.

The winner, by random number generator, is…Jeanette!

Be sure to post a comment today to be in the running
for a download of this book!

Originally released in February 2004, Garden of Desire was the third book in the Desire series series. Enjoy!

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From Just Erotic Romance Reviews: “Ms. Devlin has great talent for writing HOT HOT HOT sex scenes and the characters in this book are intriguing and well developed.”

From Sizzling Romances: “…Ms. Devlin has penned an erotic adventure that will leave you smiling. This wonderful blend of humorous dialogue, vivid descriptions, and exceedingly hot sex make GARDEN OF DESIRE a must read.”

Ex-pirate Cantor Marlowe is drowning in femininity. Perfumes assail him morning, noon, and night. And the voices! High and trilling when calling to attract his interest. Low and throaty when whispering dark and sexy promises in his ears. Loud and strident when bringing their never-ending complaints for him to resolve.

As the governor to a fledgling colony, Cantor and his fellow pirates have entered into a pact to set down roots, self-govern without Dominion interference, and raise families on an uninhabited planet at the edge of the known galaxy. Who would have thought the ex-cons they liberated to make their wives would have so much to complain about in paradise? ‘Tis no wonder Cantor itches to go a-pirating.

Martha knows how to pick a lock. What the little thief can’t figure out is how to steal Cantor’s heart. When Cantor’s head is turned by the arrival of an innocent harem girl, Martha fears she’s lost her chance at love until the girl turns to Martha for a little lesson in love.

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

“I think I would’ve been better off wearing my sandals than these ill-fitting boots,” Kirsten said over her shoulder, as she slogged down the rough-cut trail through the forest.

“Stop complaining,” Martha said, tugging at the waist of the breeches she’d nicked from Ivan’s wardrobe. For the hundredth time, she wished she’d thought to steal a belt along with the rest of his clothing; the trousers fit snugly at the hips, but bagged around her middle. “There aren’t many men with spare boots to fit your big feet.”

Kirsten halted and turned to her, a scowl darkening her face. “My feet are in proportion with my body. They get me where I need to go.” The scowl cleared and Kirsten looked into the canopy of leaves above them. “Do you think we’re still on the right trail?”

Martha snorted. “Do you really think any animal on this planet cuts trails with laser-swords?” She changed the bag she carried from one shoulder to the other. She’d packed light, but her bag seemed to grow heavier as they walked.

“How come we haven’t caught sight of them, yet?” Kirsten, who’d been so eager to start this adventure, had kept up a steady stream of complaints for the last hour.

She was wearing on every last one of Martha’s nerves. “Because you keep wasting our time on bitching.”

“I’m hungry. Do you have any more of the bread Pingat stole from the galley?”

“Yes, but you aren’t having it.”

“Why not? I’m hungry.”

“You’ll be hungrier in the morning when there’s nothing left to eat. Besides, you could stand to go hungry for a few days,” Martha said nastily. “Now, pick up your feet.”

Kirsten headed back down the trail. “Do you really think we won’t catch up before dark? I don’t like the thought of bedding down by ourselves.”

Martha didn’t want to face that possibility yet herself. She was a city-girl, born and raised in the Dallas-Austin metropolis. She’d rather walk down mean-streets at midnight than spend a night alone in the woods. “We have the electro-stuns I stole from the armory. We’ll be fine.”

Kirsten stopped again. “But what if one of those giant bats comes after us? Will it be enough?”

Martha shoved her onward. “Keep walking! I’m sure they’re not bats. You heard what Trina said. She had her ear to the door the entire time Doc was in there with Travis and Nicky. Besides, whatever they are, they’re too big to fly through this thicket. You’ll be fine—you’re considerably larger than a sheep.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“If the shoe doesn’t fit…”
Read the rest of this entry »

On my old website I had a feature called “Behind the Book”, which told readers what the heck I was thinking when I wrote the story. Here’s the story behind Garden of Desire. Tomorrow, you’ll get a chance to win it.

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In the first book in this series (the Desire series), I introduced First Mate Cantor Marlowe. I knew in that first scene that I would be coming back to visit him. He was too sexy, too sure of himself. He was a smart-ass and looking forward to the new adventure the pirates were embarking on—colonizing a new world.

When I finally sat down to write Garden, I wondered what would happen to a pirate who gets everything he ever wanted? The answer came immediately—he’d be bored stiff.

Poor Cantor! Just a few months on the new world and he’s ready to chuck the responsibility of governing a bunch of land-locked pirates and marriage-minded ex-cons. He misses the adrenaline rush of his old profession. I’ve known guys like Cantor—hell, I’ve dated them. Once the first blush of conquest is past, they’re looking for the next one—be it the next woman that catches their eye or the next, greatest adventure.

Once Cantor figures out he’s not made to be domestic, he rejects anything that smells conjugal—new curtains for his cabin, a certain blonde who’s made no bones about the fact she intends to “land” him.

Of course, the story wouldn’t be a romance if I gave him what he thought he wanted—freedom from emotional entanglement. But the right woman had to catch him unawares. Actually, Cantor being Cantor, he needed a lot of encouragement—one woman wouldn’t succeed. Give him two who conspire together—and he’s a goner.

So, first I give him every man’s favorite fantasy—a harem-raised virgin. But while Fahgwat was innocent, she wasn’t stupid. Nor could she be shy. Cantor is attracted from the first moment he sees her, but instantly recognizes that this little bit of eye candy is extremely dangerous to his freedom. He’s never had a virgin, but knows instinctively that once he takes her, he’s going to feel obligated. He resists temptation.

But Martha recognizes a chance to trap Cantor by using his powerful attraction to the girl and offers him teasing glimpses of what life with Fahgwat would be like. A thief by profession, she connives to help Fahgwat, by offering herself as a “safe” substitute to rid himself of his excess ardor. Martha’s relentless and works herself under his skin like a chigger.

When I envisioned the pirate’s new world, I offered a view of my ideal world. I’ve traveled a lot, but have never found anything lovelier than the forests of the Pacific Northwest or Scandinavia. So I blended the two to build my world. Log long-houses like those used in Scandinavia during the times of the Vikings became the temporary homes for my colonists.

But there always has to be a “snake” in paradise. Only the “snake” in my mind isn’t necessarily evil—facing it leads to enlightenment.

I hope the adventure doesn’t end with this book. I don’t have specific plans for my colonists, but maybe I’ll come back in the future to see how they’re doing.