If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
for a free download of this book!

Hard to believe, but once upon a time I didn’t think I knew how to write a contemporary love story. No fangs? No space pirates? You mean, I would have to write about the characters and not the whizz-bang stuff? Well, fortunately for you, I figured out I’ve been doing that all along. Strip away the gadgets and the woo-woo and you concentrate on the love story. What happens in bed is the story, because sometimes, that’s where people fall in love.

“…Delilah Devlin is well known for her personable characters and intense storylines and she certainly doesn’t disappoint with JANE’S WILD WEEKEND!…This story had me smiling, tearing up, worried and wanting to hug them all…This is a wonderful heartfelt story that’s as exciting as it is emotional. A perfect combination in my opinion.” 5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

“…JANE’S WILD WEEKEND was a sinful page turning delight!!…The sex is hot!!!!!!! I highly recommend this book if you are looking for something different that is fun to read and has some wonderful characters. Ms. Devlin’s books continue to be favorites of mine.” 4.5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Jane wants Bruno…Bruno wants Cord…Cord wants Jane…but can everyone get what they really want?

Jane, fresh from a breakup, decides to seduce Bruno, one of the firemen next door, to restore her shattered confidence. But the trap she sets is sprung instead by his best friend, Cord. After she flees in embarrassment, Bruno makes a proposition too wicked for any good girl to consider, but how can she refuse the chance at not one, but two strapping firemen?

Bruno’s shared women with Cord before, but decides to use Cord’s attraction to Jane to break down his defenses for the ultimate threesome. Cord thinks he knows how this little tryst will go down, but he’s seduced into allowing Bruno intimacies this hetero guy has never before considered.

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

Cord nearly groaned he was so relieved he hadn’t somehow blown it. Sliding deep into Jane’s sexy body had become an obsession. He braced his hands on either side of her shoulders, lifted his torso off hers, and slowly settled his knees between her thighs. “Put me inside you,” he whispered.

A soft, thin moan sifted between her lips and she slowly slipped a hand between their bodies, her fingers gliding between their quivering bellies to wrap around his cock. With their gazes tangling, she pushed him between her folds, pausing to rub the tip against her slick clit then pressed him downward until he prodded her opening.
Cord groaned and rocked his hips forward, shoving into her silky slit and driving deep.

Jane’s breath rushed out. Her mouth opened, but no sound escaped. Her knees rose on either side of him and she tilted her pelvis, giving him a straight shot, giving him permission to stroke deep and hard.

Cord gritted his teeth, wanting to savor the feel of her wet walls closing around him, wanted to wallow in the gentle convulsions sucking at his cock, pulling him inside. He wanted to be gentle, to get it right, but her hot, wet heat was doing a number on his self-control and he flexed and stroked deep and sure, his buttocks quickly picking up momentum.

He held himself above her, the muscles in his arms and backs thickening, defining, as a primal satisfaction, a need to mark and prove ownership, was fulfilled with each steady stroke. Sweat broke on his face and chest, and he dipped down to rub it on her breasts, growling when her nipples stabbed and she pressed closer.

Slipping one hand beneath her ass, he gathered her up. He crawled closer on his knees to gain leverage and power then shortened his strokes, banging against the open, soaked cradle of her thighs. The bed creaked, the headboard thudded. The sound only added to his growing excitement.

“God, Cord, harder…” Jane gritted out, her face flushing a deeper rose, perspiration beading on her upper lip. Her arms swept around him, her hands clutched his back, her fingernails digging into his skin.

Cord grunted, shifted his knees again and pounded, setting the bed rocking forward and back. He didn’t care if he knocked out chunks of drywall, he wasn’t stopping now, couldn’t slow down, couldn’t hold back.

Her pussy squeezed around him, long, rhythmic caresses that slid along his shaft, buttery cream churned up by the motion of his hips and the steady, quickening thrusts of his cock.

The bed dipped beside them and Cord stiffened, pausing mid-stroke to aim a killing glare at Bruno, who smiled and lifted a tube of gel, a short braided leather flogger and a blindfold.

Jane’s desperate gaze swung toward Bruno and a soft, pained laugh gusted from her thinned lips. “Your timing sucks.” Her hands tightened on Cord’s back for a moment, and then she lay back and let them fall to the mattress beside her as she drew deep, shattered breaths.

Cord pulled away, angry, frustrated, wanting to curse and throw Bruno out of the room, but his arousal pulsed—a current of sensual curiosity and heightening tension sweeping through him.

He didn’t like that Bruno’s return sparked his interest. But he wasn’t going to fight it. Jane lay pliant, sweating, her breath rasping. Bruno’s hot gaze swept her body, lingering on her spiked nipples, then clung to the sight of her pussy—wet, open, white streaks of her honeyed arousal glistening on her parted folds.

“Really think she needs the blindfold?” Cord growled.

Bruno’s lips twisted. “No, but you do, buddy.”

If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
for a free download of this book!

I chose this excerpt today because Moses Brown’s on my mind. You see, he didn’t get a happy ending in Uncovering Navarro, and I think he needs one. In fact, I’m writing his story right now. And you won’t have to wait months and months to read it. But more about that another day. Enjoy this glimpse of Moses and his FB. Then be sure to comment so that you’re entered to win!

“UNCOVERING NAVARRO is an action packed, fast paced, scorching, erotic thriller. With delicious love scenes, wry humor and non-stop thrills, UNCOVERING NAVARRO is a guaranteed page turner that’ll delight the reader.”
5 Drops of Blood, Vampire-Erotica.net

”I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys stories of vampires and things that go bump in the night. UNCOVERING NAVARRO is an extraordinary read by an extraordinary author.”
5 Cups, Coffee Time Romance

Sidney Coffey, Seattle ‘s “News at Nine” girl, uncovers the scoop of a lifetime and her ticket into “serious journalism”. The only problem is — without proof, no one’s going to believe the victims of recent gang killings are in fact “undead” and vampires!

With her gut telling her there’s an even bigger story lurking beneath the surface, she decides to beard a reclusive vampire master in his den for an interview. But meeting the master only complicates things. For a woman with a voracious sexual appetite, the tall, dark and gloomy vamp proves an irresistible challenge.

When a reporter trespasses on his estate, Navarro is at first amused, then annoyed that the little baggage is close to putting together the pieces of a dangerous plot involving an old enemy and a group of murdered geneticists. To keep her safe, Navarro issues an invitation he won’t let her refuse.

“Sid, get that cute, little tail of yours behind the yellow tape, now!” Moses Brown bit back a grin at the look of pure irritation that crossed Sidney P. Coffey’s face.

“Hi there, Moses. Long time, no see.” She ducked back under the crime scene tape and turned, taking a moment to pull the white cuffs of her shirt from below the edges of her leather jacket.

She was stalling. Moses could almost see the gears turning over in her head. The woman didn’t know when to give up.

When she glanced his way, a smile was plastered on her face. “By the way, congratulations on the promotion, detective. The new suit makes your shoulders look even broader.”

His gaze narrowed. The only time she wasted a second on small talk was when she wanted something—bad. “Sid, you’re not gettin’ inside that house.”
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NaNo Day 8:
Viking-2—2286 words
GWB-Me—1049 words–and complete!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be in the running
for a free download of this book!

NaNo’s kickin’ my ass, but I’m slogging forward. I wrapped up my contribution to the Girls Who Bite anthology, and I’ve started playing with the order of the stories. I’m not nearly through all the submissions, but a few standouts have made the cut so far. I’m 132 pages from the end of the second Viking story. I’m writing wildly, and hoping that something wonderful is waiting under all that mess for me to polish into gold. Tomorrow, I begin a new story, also due at the end of this month. Is it really the 9th! Frick! Have to up my daily dose of caffeine.

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“…Delilah Devlin packs a powerful punch with ALTERED STATES: UNLEASHING THE TIGER…Ms. Devlin creates a beautiful romance with a paranormal twist that gives the readers what they are asking for and so much more…”
5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews

“…I thought [the choice of hero] was a brave and unusual choice for the author to make…It was definitely worth the read…”
4.5 Stars, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

“…I really liked this book for its very sensuous love scenes…I loved how Khalid’s character was portrayed as very alpha yet he was so tender with Casey…This short story moves along swiftly with a mixture of military action, intelligent yet amusing dialogue, and red hot sex to keep the reader thoroughly entertained.”
4 Hearts, The Romance Studio

An analyst in a secret government agency, Casey McTaggert’s professional life has been dedicated to the capture of one suspected terrorist. Even before she’s abducted by Khalid in the midst of a firefight, she’s completely fascinated with the man they call the “The Tiger.” But what began as a professional obsession quickly becomes lust as his dark, Persian features and harshly hewn body awaken a forbidden passion.

Khalid Razeh can’t fight the genetic programming that makes him shift into a tiger any more than he can resist the sensual allure of his lovely hostage. While forcing her to accompany him on one last mission, he fights the overwhelming attraction, knowing that he is walking into a trap that will end in death. Casey’s tender lovemaking and growing belief in his innocence are a sweet balm to his wild, savage soul.

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

Khalid watched the woman’s mobile mouth curve into a mischievous smile. She had no idea how close he was to pouncing. Her scent beneath the sweat and dirt teased his nostrils like the flick of a cat’s tail, tugging at his cock, which jerked against the smooth leather case he’d perched on his lap.

Never had he been so distracted from his purpose. Just another thing he hated about the changes in him. He seemed to have lost control over his ability to shut out physical needs. His mind was no longer the captain of his body.

It was just an added irritant that he really did need her to accompany him. The woman obviously spent too much time in a sheltered cubicle—far from the harsh glare of reality. Her unshakeable enthusiasm and curiosity contradicted the image of the stale, world-weary analyst he would have conjured. She was almost…innocent…in her wonder.

His instinct for self-preservation reared up, reminding him not to relax his guard in her disarming presence. She was a woman—an attractive one despite the wire-rimmed glasses sliding down her nose and the messy knot of blonde hair pulled tight at the back of her head. The prim suit hugged slender curves, almost boyish in their lack of definition. Her legs, however, were extraordinary.

Neat, slender ankles, long straight calves and smooth round knees.

His cock approved, straining against the case.

“Do you know how?” she asked, her eyes shining in the moonlight with a hopeful glitter.

Most assuredly, he knew how. But he did not think he was responding to the correct question. He shook himself and looked around. The truck. “Yes. I can…hotwire it. Cut the engine.”

With the M-19 he’d “acquired” back at the wall strung over his shoulder, he bounded from the vehicle, supremely aware of the wag of his rigid cock. He didn’t bother to turn away from her. Better she should know her affect on him now. Perhaps it would curb her enthusiasm.
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I’m running TWO contests.
1) The newsletter contest (see September 16th’s blog for the details) continues until the 30th!!
2) The second is my usual thing. You post a comment here today and you’re eligible for a free copy of this story.

I don’t know if you know it or not, but I wrote three short stories related to the Dark Realm books. They are only available in ebooks. I don’t have an official copy I can transfer, but I will give away a copy of the story in a .pdf file for one winner to read. It was one of the first erotic shorts I ever wrote and I so completely loved doing it that I decided, even though they don’t pay, I couldn’t stop. Enjoy the excerpt! Poor Malcolm is the Revenant who gets the snot beaten out of him at the start of Darkness Captured.

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A lone rogue vampire mingles among his hunters in a blood bar, undetected…until a beautiful woman snares his attention. Suddenly, he’s running, leading her on a chase until she corners him, stake dangling from her slender fingertips. Now he has two choices: play it sexy or safe?

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Malcolm crouched behind a cinder-block pillar of a wrought iron fence, counting the seconds after the last footfalls faded.

Slowly, as the danger passed, his heartbeats settled to a steady rhythm. He drew a deep breath. They’d come close to catching him this time.

He’d been spotted in a known blood bar just outside The French Quarter, a lone rogue vampire among the elite Born trolling for meals with their enslaved, made minions in tow.

If he hadn’t paused to watch one in particular, he might not be in his present predicament.

She’d been playing with her food, ruffling the young man’s hair as she whispered in his ear—and pinned Malcolm with her pale silver gaze.

The challenge in her eyes, along with her feline grace and her strong resemblance to the woman who’d turned him, had caught his interest. The pale hand that smoothed slowly down the chest and stomach of her prey had kept Malcolm ensnared, wanting to see how far she’d take her little game.

She had no interest in the man she teased. When her palm slid down to cup his burgeoning sex, Malcolm had felt the squeeze she delivered all the way to his toes. That same embrace rendered her playmate pliant, rutting into her hand, and ready for whatever she chose to do next.

A quick flick of her slender fingers and she delved inside his trousers.

Malcolm had slipped off his stool then, his dick slowly filling as she slid her lush lips along the young man’s cheek and nibbled on his ear. While the man pulsed his hips, Malcolm tightened, wanting to rake his cock forward and back.

Her lips curved, her eyes narrowed—and Malcolm grew furious with the vampire’s teasing. If she wanted to arouse him, she’d succeeded. If she wanted more than a puling human boy, then she’d played the wrong hand.

Malcolm had forced his gaze away in time to notice she hadn’t been the only one staring at him.

The privileged ones’ gazes had met over the heads of their blood hosts, almost imperceptible nods were shared, and slowly the Born had gracefully faded from the sides of their hosts.

He’d been made. How, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps one of them had recognized him from one of the “mixed” bars, where free rogues and the Born intermingled on neutral ground. However, the how wasn’t important. Escaping was a matter of life or death.

Quickly, without a backward glance at the bitch who’d tried to trap him, he’d slipped out a side door and run like hell.

Malcolm knew better than to tweak the tails of vipers, but once in while in his long, solitary existence he enjoyed reminding them he was there—untethered from their shackles, free to choose his own path just as they did.

He’d been created free, as a human; he’d rejected the tender leash his mistress had offered when she turned him. “Serve me,” she’d pleaded. Although sorely tempted by her beauty and sweetness, he’d refused, knowing the risk, resisting her allure with iron determination. Knowing he’d be forever hunted.

A crisp footstep sounded behind him, and he whirled, straightening to face this hunter.

Before him stood the Born vampire who’d teased him almost to extinction. Now, a long, wooden stake dangled from her fingers.

She was blonde and slender, every muscle honed by her low-carb meals and the activity demanded by her hyperactive metabolism—and sex, lots of it.

Her glittering glance swept down his body, and he braced apart his legs, hoping to reignite the heat he’d witnessed earlier. She’d been hungry, aroused as she’d played with the boy as she’d teased him. He could use that. When her gaze paused over the juncture of his thighs, his lips stretched slowly.

Her fingers tightened around her weapon, and her gaze slashed upward to deliver a glare. Her own thighs, encased in dark sleek leather, tensed as she stayed loose on her feet, ready to pounce whichever direction he chose.

Malcolm remembered well the way her thin silky tee had clung to her breasts back at the bar, ripe little nipples popping against the fabric. “Sorry I interrupted your meal,” he murmured as he leaned back against the pillar, his fingers sliding into the pockets of his jeans as though he wasn’t standing a hairbreadth from death.

Her lips curved, lush and full despite the stretch. “You don’t think I’ll have any trouble finding a replacement, do you?” she asked silkily.

He let his eyelids fall halfway closed as he made a leisurely stroll down her body. “None at all,” he murmured. “But will any one of them satisfy you?”

Her chin rose and pale blonde hair brushed the tops of her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice sliding deeper toward a sultry lisp. “It’s so hard to stop with just one.”

There they were again—those little spikes, stabbing at her shirt. Malcolm eyed them, his lips pursing at the thought of pulling one lush nipple into his mouth. When his gaze met hers again, the hard gleaming challenge had heated.

She swallowed, almost unnoticeably. To draw moisture into a suddenly dry mouth?

Maybe he could earn a reprieve yet. “I was on the prowl tonight,” he said, keeping his voice soft. “I’ve already fed. Maybe we could trade.”

“I have to kill you,” she said flatly.

“Because your coven demands it?” He canted his head. “Do you always follow the rules?”

“You’re a rogue—dangerous if left to roam.”

“Perhaps I’ve never met my true mistress.”

“You’re free. You resisted the allure of the one who turned you, so don’t pretend you’d even consider changing your spots now.”

His lips quirked at her quiet intensity. “I bet you colored inside the lines when you were a child.”

“You think I lack imagination?”

“No, I think you like to please.”

He almost smiled at the scowl that pouted her lips and narrowed her pale eyes. “I could take you. You’re all alone. One on one, I might win,” he drawled, noting the way her glare darkened with the insinuation she might not be the victor.

Her fingers clutched the stake tighter. “You’re not helping your argument.”

“I’m just saying…I’m willing to battle you on different field. If you’re strong enough, maybe you can leash me.”

“A different field? Do you really think I’d let you go anywhere.”

“Follow me.” With that, he spun on his heels and leapt, clearing the fence to stand on the other side of the bars. “My place is just down the road.”

Not bothering to wait and see what she decided, he walked away, nonchalantly, knowing he was baring his back to her stake. However, he’d had a feeling about her earlier when she’d stared above the spiky red hair of her host. Malcolm had felt the air crackle with sensual awareness.

The soft thud behind him made him smile. Her steps trailed his, not overtaking, and he breathed easier.

At another gate, this one enclosing the courtyard of the house he’d rented for the summer, he turned and swung it open, waiting for her to pass.

Her face still tight, her lips crimped into a slight frown, she stepped quickly by him and waited as he closed it, trailing him again when he walked to the front door.

Maybe she was simply waiting to kill him once they were out of sight. But he didn’t think so. The scent of her arousal wafted in the air, mixing with the heavy perfume of roses from the neighbor’s garden. Delicious, sultry—she’d be his, if he was clever enough.

His dick filled again, pressing insistently against his jeans, reminding him that while he’d satisfied his bloodlust that night, he hadn’t had sex in while. Little miss vampire would ease the ache tonight.

Inside, he didn’t bother turning on the lights, didn’t pause to politely offer her a drink of another sort. Instead, he strode up the staircase to his room overlooking the gardens, knowing she’d follow. The stiff steps behind him said she was angry at him and herself for being led by her hungers—unable to contain her curiosity about what exactly he offered.

In the bedroom, he pulled apart the curtains and let moonlight flood the room. He heard her step inside, keeping close to the doorway. With his gaze on the courtyard below, he said, “My name is Malcolm.”

“Do you think by giving me a name to accompany your handsome face I won’t follow through?”

He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a smile. “I’m giving you a name to call when I make you come.”

I’m running TWO contests.
1) One offering a $25 gift certificate from Amazon to celebrate the release of PLEASING SIR. This contest ends tomorrow! See details here!
2) The second is my usual thing. You post a comment here today and you’re eligible for a free download of this story (or another if you’ve already read this one).

Yesterday’s winner is posted at the end of this entry.

I’ll admit it. Sometimes, when I sit down to write a book, I’m bored. That’s when I start asking myself what I can do to make a story different from anything I’ve written or read. I look for a flaw—something most people couldn’t overlook—then spend the story finding ways to get my characters to do just that.

That’s what happened with Unforgiven. How many books have you read where the hero or heroine cheated? I mean really cheated—not those mistaken identity things, or she walked in when the rival launched herself into his arms thing.

I wasn’t sure I could do it. And I knew it was a hot button item for a lot of people, but I seriously got a lot less flack about it than I thought I would. Face it. It happens more than we would like. Even to basically good people. Enjoy the excerpt. Tomorrow, I’ll be here with a sneak peek at the story that follows Four Sworn.

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“…Delilah Devlin’s scorching and unforgettable story UNBRIDLED, has been followed up by the equally hot and mesmerizing UNFORGIVEN… As with any Devlin tale, the sex is so hot it should come with a burn notice. But more importantly, you get pages packed with so much emotion it chokes you…”
4.5 Cherries, Whipped Cream Reviews

“…Delilah Devlin gives a sneak peek into the head of a sexy cowboy whose old fashioned values conflict with his unrelenting desire for a woman who he feels has not lived up to his ideals. We also see a woman who is willing to bend her code for a man who does not necessarily have a big enough heart to deserve her love. Watching the two try to find a middle ground is what makes UNFORGIVEN such an entertaining read.”
5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews

How does a man get over a cheating woman? Sweet revenge…

For Cutter Standifer, the pretty little redhead who opened a café in Two Mule, Texas was “the one.” Until he caught her in a compromising position with the town’s worst womanizer. To further strain his rigid code, his little sister just married the same damn bastard who shattered his world and is living in sin with him and another man.

A year later, he still can’t forgive his ex-girlfriend. And forget? Forget, hell. He’s ready kick his code into the nearest manure pile and take what he never had from her—full satisfaction.

That fateful morning, all Katie Grissom meant to do was use the bad boy’s reputation to force Cutter to piss or get off the pot where their own relationship was concerned. But she went too far—deliciously too far—giving Cutter an eyeful she lived to regret.

When Cutter offers her a no-strings affair she jumps at the chance, hoping to either break through the rigid wall he’s built around his heart…or get him out of her system for good.

Warning: When a hard-as-nails cowboy finally lets loose on the only woman he’s ever loved expect the loving to get hot enough to melt a cold, cold, heart—toys, front and slammin’ backdoor sex are only the beginning…

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Cutter Standifer stuck his finger inside the collar of his dress shirt and tugged. Damn thing felt tight. And every time he glanced at the bride and grooms, it just got tighter.

His little sister had wanted to be married in the sunshine, so they’d chosen the lawn on the south side of the house in front of his mother’s rose garden. He’d had landscapers working around the clock to clean up the overgrown flower beds. No one would find fault with the yard, the house or with the celebration he’d paid for. However, if they didn’t finish up quick, everyone’s Sunday-best clothing would be drenched in perspiration.

June in West Texas was hot as hell even though they’d scheduled the ceremony for just before noon.

If his mother had been here, she’d have approved his preparations. He’d done his duty. Dani looked prettier than the pink and yellow roses blooming in the background. She wore their mother’s white wedding dress, which had only needed a few tucks around the waist to fit and left too much of her tanned shoulders and chest bare for his liking. She’d twisted her long blonde hair up into some kind of knot that made her neck and shoulders look feminine, fragile and innocent. No one looking at her now, with her green eyes soft and bright with unshed tears and her lips curved into a wide smile, would know she was anything but fragile. And she damned sure wasn’t innocent.

Cutter jerked when the people seated around him erupted in a loud cheer.

The official groom bent Dani over his arm and kissed her like he wasn’t going to stop until her stays popped and he had her naked and under him. The crowd enjoyed his enthusiasm.

Cutter’s stomach clenched and he looked away. Not until the bridal couple had trailed down the aisle toward the house and the reception did he stir.

And then he moved like an old man, taking his time following the wedding guests inside, listening as music poured out the door onto the wrap-around porch.

Reluctantly, he reminded himself his duty wasn’t done quite yet. He had a party to oversee. Just a couple more hours and he could close the doors on the last guest and settle down to getting stinking drunk.

He wondered if anyone else who’d been watching had caught on to the fact the best man had looked every bit as happy as the bastard who’d placed the ring on his kid sister’s finger. Rowe Ayers, the best man, had beamed every time he looked at Dani—and at Justin Cruz.

As Cutter stepped into the ballroom, he caught sight of the threesome again and his stomach churned with disgust. Rowe was with the bridal couple, still smiling. First at Dani, and then at Justin.

What the fuck did that mean? Cutter didn’t really want to know. The thought of his sister, sandwiched between those two bastards was bad enough. The thought that maybe there was something happening between the two men… Well, it just wasn’t something he could let himself think about and not lose his breakfast.
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I’m running TWO contests.
1) The one to celebrate the release of PLEASING SIR (with a $25.00 Amazon.com gift certificate as the prize) is ongoing, and you still have time to enter it! See details in Thursday’s post!
2) The second is my usual thing. You post a comment here today and you’re eligible for a free download of this story (or another if you’ve already read this one).

Released in September 2009, Unbridled was the first of my Lone Star Lovers books for Samhain. It starts with a girl who interrupts a tryst between her boyfriend and another man, and quickly goes straight to the gutter after that. 🙂

Four Sworn, which releases next Tuesday, is set in the same town, but can be read as a standalone novel. And for those of you a bit squeamish about m/m contact, Four Sworn is strictly all about the girl. Four guys. One Girl.

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“…In [UNBRIDLED]…we are following the sexy machinations of Justin, and he does sexy so well it isn’t difficult to picture him doling out love to his two subs. It’s also remarkably easy to see why they’d be eager to do his bidding. However, it is totally refreshing to watch Dani and Rowe slip the noose and insist on him obeying them for a change of pace…If you are seeking an intensely erotic short read, UNBRIDLED is the one for you…”
5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews on UNBRIDLED

Unbridled, Lone Star Lovers, Book One

Tough…or tender? If she plays her cards right, she won’t have to choose.

Dani Standifer arrives home at her West Texas family ranch a day early, ready to pick up where she left off with Rowe Ayers, her high school sweetheart. However, when she opens the door to their line-shack trysting place, it’s clear she waited a day too long. Rowe’s with someone else—another man. And not just any other man— Justin Cruz, the bad boy with whom she shared one wild encounter, years ago.

Justin’s waited a long time for this moment. He knows his reputation, but since he seduced Rowe, he’s been a one-man cowboy—waiting for Dani to return and become the delicious fulfillment of his and Rowe’s needs. If she’s up to the challenge.

To her own surprise, Dani finds she’s more than ready to have both men in her life—as soon as she and Rowe teach Justin a lesson or two about love.

Their small town may not be ready for their kind of relationship. And Dani’s brother Cutter’s mile-deep grudge against Justin throws in a complication that could break the foundation the three of them have built…

Warning: Hold on for the rodeo of your life with rough ridin’ male on male action; blazing hot m/m/f scenes; and melt-your-panties lovin’ as each of these sexy cowboys gives it the way they know best to turn their woman inside out.

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Note for Readers: You must be of legal age in your country of origin to read this excerpt. Also, there is m/m content in this excerpt. Read on at your own risk!

Justin stared at the silent house, taking in the understated wealth it represented. The Standifers were old money in these parts. Old money—and spoiled and unappreciative of their advantages.

Eyeing the pristine white Victorian, he thought about the crummy apartment in town that he’d kept after his mother had died—the only thing he could afford with the odd jobs he’d worked until he’d landed the job as a wrangler at the Ayers ranch.

He’d have liked to go to school, just like Dani and Rowe. He’d had the grades. Could have ridden a football scholarship, but his sister had needed him to provide a roof over her head until she’d finished school. Now that she was attending a community college in San Angelo, he was free at last to pursue his own path.

Funny how he’d always thought he’d leave Two Mule in the rearview mirror of his pickup truck first chance he got, but things hadn’t worked out that way. When he’d hired on as a wrangler on Rowe’s family ranch after high school, he’d been happy for the employment. He’d discovered an affinity for working with horses and cattle, skills that had quickly gotten him noticed by Rowe’s father, who took him under his wing and groomed him to assume more responsibility. Over the years, he’d thrived on the attention, enjoying the respect he earned that didn’t have a thing to do with how well he tossed a football or how popular he was with women.

When he’d been asked to step in as foreman when the ranch foreman retired and moved to Florida with his daughter, the promotion had been a mixed blessing. He’d liked the authority, the trust invested in him, but he’d felt bound to stay, especially after Rowe’s father died. He’d managed everything, moved into the house, so that Rowe could finish his education. After he’d returned, Rowe asked him to stay, saying his house was too big and lonely without the company.

When Rowe had snagged his lustful attention after taking over the ranch, no one would have been more shocked than he was. Justin had never known he could be aroused by a man, had run through a string of girls in high school and an equally impressive list of women afterward, but other than his very brief fling with Dani, no woman had ever held his attention long.

Catching his boss skinny dipping in a newly dug cattle pond on a particularly hot summer day had opened his eyes to whole new world of sensual pleasure.

Not that Rowe had intended to attract him. He’d grinned when he’d been caught, then motioned for him to join. Just a couple of guys cooling down after a hot day’s work.

When Justin had stripped to his skin, his cock had betrayed him in an embarrassing way. He’d tried to make a joke of it, but Rowe’s expression as he’d tried not to stare at Justin’s cock had inspired that pesky little devil who sat securely on Justin’s shoulder—the whoring side of his nature that was ready to fuck at the slightest invitation. The side that never knew approval unless he saw it in the happiness of a lover’s face at orgasm.
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“…STONE’S EMBRACE is a wonderfully descriptive story…The mix of Greek mythology with Christian elements is intriguing and adds to the subtle layering of eroticism and exoticism…this story is fantastic and a super-hot read!”
5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews on STONE’S EMBRACE

“…The sex in the book was off the charts hot!…It was a wonderfully different story with a strong characters and a fun plot that left this reviewer breathless!”
5 Stars, Just Erotic Romances on STONE’S EMBRACE

Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a genetic double whammy—a strange deformity and a shameful power inherited from the father she will never know. The power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch.

Exploring the garden of the mansion she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its broad chest. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all.

They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…

Warning: Sex with inanimate objects, lusty m/m/f ménages with gods…it’s all good when the reward is freedom.

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Louisiana 1909

Octavius rammed his shoulder against the heavy oak door. The lock and hinges gave and the door crashed backward with a satisfying thud, raising dust that sifted through the air like silver-gilt fireflies in the moonlight. Wary, he stepped across the threshold. Inside, the house was dark, the air thick—too heavy to be natural.

He knew, without reeling in the psychic tether that kept him chained to the Grigori, that Bacclum was here. That the bastard had found the demon. He prayed he wasn’t too late to save Bacclum from his own insatiable lust for power. The consequences of his failure would mean his own end.

He should have known that Bacclum planned mischief that night. The mixed-blood angel had been too eager to see Octavius take a rare walk among humans, encouraging him to attend a masked ball at a wealthy residence inside the French Quarter.

While Octavius had enjoyed the rare opportunity to mingle among sweet-smelling women, secretly laughing as he pretended a lever inside his vest controlled the movement of his wings and thrilling to the many strokes of soft hands along his ribbed folds, Bacclum had snuck away. But not before he’d assured himself that his watcher’s vigilance had been dulled by the herbs stirred into his drink. If Octavius hadn’t noted the uneasy glances of the sloe-eyed woman who’d gulled him, he might have drunk the full measure. As it was, his head still swam and his loins throbbed with unabated lust.

The sound of crashing furniture and the low rumble of a masculine voice drew him up the staircase and down a hallway toward the sliver of golden light, fanning outward from a partially opened doorway. Sliding his back close to the wall, he gently pushed open the door and peered around the corner into a room lined with shelves of books.

Bacclum’s dark head was bent toward his chest, his thighs braced around the demon, his hands wrapped around a straining throat.

I’m not too late, thank the gods. “Let go, Bacclum!” Octavius growled as he stalked toward the Grigori steadily strangling the demon he clasped.

“Not until he gives me what I want.” Bacclum grunted, his face screwing into a fierce grimace. “I want all of it.”

Octavius stepped deeper into the library then felt a slight, telltale rumbling beneath his feet.

Bacclum seemed unaware of the heightening danger, so intent was he on murdering the demon and claiming his power for his own.

Octavius cursed beneath his breath. He should have suspected what Bacclum had intended when he’d entered this demon’s realm. The angel’s thirst for power was unquenchable. The council had warned Octavius long ago of Bacclum’s unrelenting quest, but he’d believed the core of the creature squeezing the life force from the demon was good and honorable. He’d believed that Bacclum understood the uneasy balance that had to be maintained between the forces of light and darkness. In the end, he’d misjudged him, underestimating his need for vengeance. Now it was up to him alone to set this right.

Octavius folded his wings forward, scraping the leathery tips against Bacclum’s slick, hot skin, intending to wrap his wings around Bacclum’s face and smother him into unconsciousness. The rumbling increased, fed by the faint chanting echoing inside his head. The demon was far from vanquished.

“Let go, Bacclum,” he roared, leaning closer to pull Bacclum back, but something lashed around his own wrists. Invisible bonds tightened then jerked him off his feet.

He landed on the floor on his knees and growled. The air around them grew dank and humid like a demon’s breath, and the voice chanting in an ancient tongue inside his head grew louder and stronger.

The house shivered violently. The wood flooring creaked. Windows rattled then shattered. Glass shards, like silvery projectiles, peppered his wings and back and shredded his clothing, drawing blood from hundreds of cuts.

Bacclum’s head jerked back and canted to the side. At last, he’d caught the chanting voice and had to know he’d awakened the demon’s inner fire.

The breeze sweeping through the shattered window intensified and swirled around the room, tightening into a devil wind that picked up more slivers of glass and jagged bits of shattered furniture that pinged against the paneled walls but sank into tender flesh.

Octavius’s chest, back and wings were flayed, scraped raw. He reared back, fighting the phantom manacles holding him. Suddenly he was wrenched from the ground and held still inside the fulcrum of the whirlwind.

With only a moment to suck in a deep breath, he was flung forward, forced to ride the arc of an invisible whip, then shot backward like a cannonball through the gaping window onto fragrant grass.

Frogs croaked. Crickets chirped. Moonlight silvered the damp grass. He shook his head clear and ripped off the ragged clothing hanging from the belt at his waist.

Freed at last, he knelt, breathing deeply and gathering strength. He flared his wings and dug his knuckles into the turf. He pushed upward—but his feet never left the ground. His wings never caught the wind beneath their leathery folds.

Frozen, first by horror, then irreversibly by magic, he could only stand there, his terrified gaze watching as his body was slowly consumed, inch by inch, by stone.