Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Shattered Souls Release Day!

From my sister, the uber-talented Delilah Devlin!

I've read it and it's fantastic! A thrilling ride from start to end! 
Shattered Souls
by Delilah Devlin


From popular author Delilah Devlin comes the unforgettable heroine, Caitlyn O’Connell—a psychic ex-cop who’s hell-bent on redemption. 

Caitlyn O’Connell had it all: a career with the Memphis PD, a passionate marriage, and the satisfaction that her work made a difference in the world. But she also had a secret, a supernatural “gift” that cost her everything. Now she scrapes by as a private investigator, taking cases the cops won’t touch and counting down the minutes until happy hour. 

But when Sam Pierce, her former partner and estranged ex-husband, comes to her for help with a bizarre murder case, Cait can’t say no. And not just because Sam is still as irresistibly sexy as he was on the day they met. Something sinister—and demonic—is terrorizing Memphis, leaving a bloody trail of bodies and clues only Cait can read. Together she and Sam will venture into a dark world of magic and unholy terror, hunting a killer who will lead them to the brink of reality as they know it—and back into the thrall of their stormy past. Steamy and suspenseful, Shattered Souls is the pulse-quickening new offering from fan favorite romance author Delilah Devlin.


Detective Sam Pierce discovers Cait’s hidden past and learns in an incontrovertible way that there’s magic in the air...
            Sam set the mike back in its bracket in the dashboard of his car and turned to Cait. After a fifteen-minute drive, they’d parked outside a palm reader’s shop. The neon sign flashing above the door said “Psychic Inside.” He grimaced but was careful not to let Cait see. She was still grumbling over the fact he had become her shadow.

Cait didn’t work well with partners. Not when it came to the woo-woo shit, anyway.
She’d just have to tough the situation out because too much was riding on this for him, personally and professionally, to let her out of his sight. The moment he’d heard her voice when he’d played back the message on Henry’s voice mail his heart had stopped. More than just a detective’s need to follow a clue had him hotfooting it to her apartment to confront her. He’d been more frightened than he’d ever been in his life that she might have been caught up in the violence that occurred in that room.
Not until he’d stood over her still form as she slept, breathed in the odor of stale booze, checked her clothing for blood, her knuckles and skin for signs of a struggle, did his anger surpass the fear that first gripped him. He hadn’t wanted her to be involved, not as a witness, victim, or a possible suspect, but he’d dragged her into the investigation anyway.
Intellectually, the action made sense. Emotionally, he knew he was treading along a dangerous path. The attraction was still as strong as ever…at least on his side.
After he’d reassured himself she was safe, he’d hovered while she slept, drinking in the familiar landscape, pausing to stare at the slight curves of her breasts, the taut indentation of her narrow waist, and the fleshy swell of her lush hips—even though not touching just about killed him. Her legs, bared beneath the hem of her T-shirt, were still as trim, still as leanly muscled as he remembered. He could still feel their fierce grip, strong and feminine, around his waist.
He’d been rough with her, but he’d handled her that way out of self-preservation.
But shoving her under cold water had nearly done him in. Her nipples had spiked hard, the rust-colored areolae visible beneath the transparent material of her T-shirt. He’d been careful to keep his face free of expression. If she’d known how aroused he’d become, they might not have made it out the door.
Sex had never been an issue between them. The slightest encouragement would have caused their surly passions to explode like an arsonist’s match to an accelerant.
Ruthlessly, Sam pushed away the memories. He got out of the car, turning away to adjust himself because his groin felt heavy and throbbed uncomfortably. Then he circled the car to her door. She faced straight ahead, and he wondered if she’d nodded off during the drive. He knocked on the glass. “Come on.”
Her chest lifted and her cheeks billowed as she blew out a deep breath. But she opened the door and stepped out onto the curb. “Sure you don’t want to wait outside?”
Not willing to repeat himself, Sam gave her a steady stare. He’d play the asshole for now and hope the anger he displayed would sink deep and kill his arousal.
She sighed and trudged to the door of the shop. A bell tinkled as she pushed it open and entered the dim interior.
The smell of incense and candles permeated the air. The shop was deep but narrow. Shelves of New Age and voodoo kitsch lined the walls to the left. To the right stood a long counter with more shelves filled with apothecary bottles and jewelry—amulets, beaded bracelets, silver-wrapped crystals—sitting alongside displays of colorful voodoo dolls. Behind the counter was a doorway covered by strands of purple beads. A hand parted the beads, and a woman stepped through.
Sam nearly snorted. She was dressed in a caftan in an African print of red, gold, and black. Her long black hair hung in stiff curls past her shoulders. Large gold hoops dangled from her ears.
She wore her age well, only a few deep wrinkles creasing the corners of her large brown eyes as she smiled at Cait and swept around the counter to embrace her. “’Bout time you come see me, little girl,” she said in a deep, musical voice.
Her words were flavored with chicory and island patois. Sam guessed she’d followed the Mississippi northward from New Orleans.
Cait accepted the embrace but was slower to lift her arms and return it. “Good to see you, Tante Celeste,” she said in that gruff tone that meant she was moved more than she cared to admit.
Sam’s gaze sliced between both women. This was a long acquaintance. A nearly familial one. And his curiosity was piqued. Cait hadn’t shared a damn thing about her past other than infrequent mentions of her police officer father in all the time they’d spent together. Until this moment, he’d never met a single soul she’d known before she entered the force.
Celeste’s brown gaze rose above Cait’s shoulder. “You brought a friend, ma petite?”
Cait dropped her arms and moved back. “This is Sam,” she said, her green gaze sliding uneasily between Sam and Celeste. “He’s…working with me.”
A dark eyebrow arched. “Heard you weren’t a cop no more. But you bring one to my door.”
“Well, he’s still a cop. He asked for my help with something.”
“Somethin’ that requires you seek me out?” Celeste clucked. “Must be somethin’ dark.”
Sam watched the two women, but was especially fascinated with Cait’s expression. She looked uncertain, the pallor of her cheeks a stark contrast against her brilliant red hair. “I need to find Morin,” she said softly.
Celeste’s eyes widened, but her mouth stretched into a catlike smile. “Funny you should mention him. He left somethin’ for you. Said you’d be comin’.”
Left something?
Cait’s chest rose. “I wasn’t sure he was still around these parts.”
“Morin never left. He waits for you. But you know, he’s gonna want somethin’ in ’change for his help.”
For a moment, Cait’s eyes closed.
Sam stiffened, sensing there was something deeply disturbing about this Morin and wondering what exactly his relationship was to his ex-wife.
Celeste walked around the counter and reached under the cash register. When she straightened, she held a small cloth bag tied with twine.
Cait’s lips compressed into a thin line, but she held out her hand, fingers curling tightly around the bag. “Did he leave you…words?”
“You don’t remember?”
“It’s been forever since I last saw him. I wanted to forget.”
Ma chere, you must learn to forgive. Morin has always been here for you. Even after you abandoned him.”
“He should have moved on,” Cait said, her voice stronger now.


Saturday, January 26, 2013

Snippet Saturday - Author Choice

*****Feeling the need for a Giveaway******
Comment for a chance to win a download of 
Boots and Promises 

This is the first of the UGLY STICK SALOON "BOOTS" stories
enjoy a visit to the best saloon in Texas!   
Boots and Chaps


Ugly Stick Saloon

Jackson Gray Wolf is turning thirty, and what does he have to show for it? A ranch. No wife, no kids, no dates. He’s had his eye on the pretty owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, but their one accidental encounter was interrupted before he could get her out of her take-me-now red cowboy boots.

Audrey Anderson isn’t in the market for a man. Been there, done that, has the scars to prove it. She retired her pole-dancing boots after purchasing the Ugly Stick Saloon, and now manages a stable of strippers. When she winds up one stripper short for a private party, she’s forced to slip on a mask and into the role of the mysterious Kiki.

Jackson didn’t want the birthday bash his twin brothers are throwing him, but his vow to ignore the rented stripper goes awry when she shows him exactly how far she’s willing to go—for all three of them.

Audrey can’t forget the sizzling heat between her and one sexy Kiowa in particular. Jackson. Trouble is, she’s not sure if he wants the bold, brassy Kiki, or if he’s ready for the wounded woman underneath.


With his lips so near, Audrey couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. When he didn’t seal the kiss, she glanced up, her gaze meeting his.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are as blue as a rain-washed summer sky?” His deep tone resonated against the cardboard boxes of liquor lining the storeroom walls.

Audrey laughed, her stomach fluttering, her knees turning to liquid. “No.”

“Well, someone should. Because they are very beautiful.” His mouth descended, crushing hers with the force of his kiss.

She gasped, her lips parting to allow him inside.

He swept past her teeth, delving deep to tangle and twist, thrusting in and out to the rhythm of lust. His fingers laced in her hair, tugging hard enough to make her scalp sting. The blasts of pain only made Audrey hotter.

Her thighs clenched around Jackson’s knee, her cunt rubbing along the rough denim of his jeans. She ached with the need to be naked, to feel his skin against hers.

Jackson’s lips left hers, burning a trail across her chin and along the convulsing column of her throat. With his free hand, he flipped the buttons loose from her blouse, shoving the edges over her shoulders and down her arms, exposing her favorite demi-bra, the thin black lace barely hiding her nipples. She whispered a silent prayer to the laundry gods for the piles of clothing she needed to wash, forcing her to wear her best bra and panties tonight.

Her shirt fell to the floor and her pulse shot into hyper-speed. This could be her lucky night. She could actually get laid and spare the batteries for once.

When Jackson reached for the rivet on her jeans, slipping it free and sliding the zipper down, Audrey almost shouted with joy. “Hurry,” she said, afraid someone would catch them getting it on in the supply closet. Not that she cared about being caught, but she didn’t want to waste a chance at what Jackson had to offer.

She loosened the four metal buttons on his jeans. His cock jutted free into her hand. It was longer, thicker and harder than any man Audrey had been with, one measure of proof to the rumor that American Indians were hung better than the average white man. He’d fill her to full and then some. Her pussy creamed in anticipation.

The race to naked intensified.

Other Books visiting the Ugly Stick Saloon:

Other Authors Participating in Snippet Saturday:
Lissa Matthews
Rhian Cahill 
Shelli Stevens
Eliza Gayle
Leah Braemel
Myla Jackson
Caris Roane
Jody Wallace
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Shiloh Walker
Delilah Devlin
Lauren Dane

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Snippet Saturday - Description

 Not everyone knows this, but I write under two pen names: Myla Jakcson and Elle James. Below you'll find a creepy description of what happens at the beginning of my book 

by Elle James (aka Myla Jackson)



Chicago's top undercover cop, Cal Black, has faced his share of danger, but he's never tangled with the paranormal…until now. His mission is simple: to investigate the disappearance of a sorority girl from a private college. But there are two complications: the girl's a witch. And her sister is the enchantress who broke his heart.
Deme Chattox isn't looking for a man. Especially a bad boy like Cal, even though every inch of her body remembers the magic of his touch. What she is looking for is her little sister…and Deme is determined to find her without Cal's expertise. The other Chattox sisters—and their mystical powers—are all the help she needs. That is, until they unearth a terrifying secret buried deep underground—and Deme finds herself possessed by a desire that threatens to destroy her.


Movement in the shadows caught her attention.
     Aurai Chattox strained to see what lurked in the dark. It wasn’t something or someone hiding, but wispy shapes growing and creeping steadily closer to the circle of girls gathered around the candles. Had someone lit a smoke bomb? Were there girls or guys hiding among the rose bushes producing the special effects for this weird show?
     When she sniffed, all she smelled was the scent of pine and roses and something she couldn’t quite define. A pungent, decayed smell, almost imperceptible, buried beneath that of the more powerful aromas of the roses and natural vegetation.
     As the dark, shadowy tendrils drifted closer, goose bumps rose on Aurai’s skin. She fingered the pentagram at her neck and closed her eyes, drawing on the forces within, the strength of her sisters, the knowledge of the light and her own inner connection with the air, the wind and atmospheric conditions.
     She’d made a promise to herself not to use her craft. She wanted to stand on her own as a mortal, not a witch. But something stirred deep inside—call it premonition, call it a portent of evil. If she gave it a nudge, perhaps it would go away.
Aurai lifted her hands by her side, just enough to stir the air around her. Just a little, not enough to scare the other sorority initiates standing in the circle, their eyes wide, bodies trembling. But maybe enough to dispel the shadowy mist creeping in around them.
     A light breeze blew in from the west.
When the West wind blows o’er thee, departed spirits restless be.
A tremor shook Aurai from neck to knees as the breeze kicked up, lifting the tendrils of her hair around her face. Softly, at first, tickling her skin with the strands like the gentle touch of a lover’s hand. The stroke was deceptively soothing and Aurai opened her eyes. Her hood slipped backward, exposing her head to the night air.
Wind was her friend, her lover, her power, the one force within that always gave her comfort, and foretold of change to come. Until now.
The gentle breeze intensified, mixing with the inky shadows to lift her hair away from her scalp, slapping it against her face. White-blond locks acted as whips stinging her open eyes.
She squinted against the onslaught and raised her hands to block the battering strands.
Tall pines, that a moment before had stood stately and stoic at the four corners of the garden, swayed like erotic lovers in the throes of passion, twisting and undulating like naked bodies.
Something was terribly wrong.
Her gift of wind should have been a gentle influence to cleanse the air of the encroaching black shadows around the circle of pledges. Instead, it became a force unto itself, gaining in power and magnitude until the girls fought to remain standing.
Her roommate, Rachel, dropped to her knees, blocking her face against flying debris. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” Aurai called out. Branches broke from the trees and pummeled the small gathering of females, drawing blood, scraping and bruising delicate skin.
Thorny rose stems tore at her legs and battered her face and neck. Aurai closed her eyes again, feeling for the ornate pentagram at her neck. The solid piece of silver given to her by her mother. Each of her sisters had a matching pendant, blessed with a protection spell. She called on the spell now.
     Unwanted spirits I call thee
I call thee into the light
Guardian spirits I call thee
I call thee to the fight
     The spell had no affect on the wind raging around her. The black, inky shadows swept in, twisting her cape around her body until she couldn’t move.
     “Aurai!” Rachel reached out to her. “Aurai!”
     Aurai tried to lift her hand to capture Rachel’s, but both arms were trapped at her sides, her cape plastered to her limbs and body like a mummy’s death shroud.
     Her feet left the ground and her body twirled through the air, faster and faster, caught in a funnel of leaves, rose petals, thorny branches and black, shadowy fingers. 

      For a moment, Aurai thought she saw the face of a man in the swirling, black wind. The face transformed into a hideous creature with two heads, one with the teeth of a raging lion. Both heads had the soulless, black gaping eyes of a demon.
     As the force lifted her above the girls’ heads, she gripped her pentagram and cried out, “Sisters, come to me!”
                The world spun in a vacuum, lifting her higher still. Then the bottom dropped out of the dark cloud, the earth opened and the wind sucked her down, into a black abyss deep below the surface of the mossy garden soil.