Bestselling Author Delilah Devlin
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Snippet Saturday: Worldbuilding
Saturday, April 9th, 2011

There’s still time to win one of two gift certificates from! See details on Tuesday’s blog: Contest Details

I’m still here in LA. Still under the freaking weather. My sniffles and sneezes are now full-blown honks. Scratch LA off as a place I can travel to, at least not during the spring. Today’s the big Book Expo. Tomorrow, I’m on the plane home! Yeehaw! I think the next time I spend this much on a trip, I better be getting more than a mint of my pillow. 🙂

5 Cups, Coffee Time Romance

Reader to Reader Reviews

Fresh Pick!, Fresh Fiction

“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





Alex, the prince of the vampires, has left Gabriella in a magical bolt-hole to get her out of the way and ensure her safety while he wraps up loose ends after his successful takeover of the vampire council. Now that he’s found his true mate, his and Gabriella’s affair is at an end…

Her features tightened and the corners of her lips curved downward. She shut her eyes and downed the contents of her glass. When she opened them again, she stared at the mirror and set down her drink.

How many times had Alex stared into the glass, looking into that dreadful room—the hall where the demons and the dead feasted on each other in Hell. Remembering Alex’s warning about the mirror, she reached up and gingerly touched only the frame.

The hall shimmered into sight. The same scene replayed—people in glittering, bejeweled costumes sitting at long benches in a Medieval-style hall. She shifted to the side to catch a glimpse of The Master’s entrance—the handsome creature whose black aura resembled a dragon’s. With Alex behind her, she’d watched The Master stride into the room, felt a tingle of awareness for his masculine beauty, and shuddered for the power he wielded over the orgiastic bloodletting that had followed. She wouldn’t deny the man fascinated her.

The hellhounds once again stood like sentries at either side of the plank door. She waited for a long while, watched the couple nearest the mirror savage each other on the floor, but still he didn’t appear.

Just when she’d decided to drop her hand, a figure stepped in front of the glass.

Her eyes widened as she found herself staring directly into The Master’s golden eyes. The narrow, slitted pupils slowly expanded, engulfing the irises entirely in black.

Gabriella told herself he couldn’t see her. Perhaps he looked at his own reflection in a matching mirror. Gathering calm around her, she stared back, noting the thick black hair that fell to the tops of his broad shoulders, the neatly trimmed beard and moustache that framed his chin and mouth, drawing her gaze to his lips—full for a man, sensual, and beginning to smile.

A chill gnawed at her spine, causing her to quake.

As though she stared into a cobra’s mesmerizing stare, she couldn’t break with his gaze as he slowly raised his hand and pressed it to the glass, his long fingers splayed.

Gabriella felt as though she stood outside herself, watching as she reached up, spreading her own fingers to match his, and pressed her hand against the glass.

The glass began to warm, and then dissolved between them. Their fingers met. Before she could jerk her hand away, his fingers slipped to her wrist and tightened there. Triumph glittered in his dark eyes, and he reached up with his free hand to grasp the edge of the mirror and pull. It stretched downward, the bureau in front of her melting away, and he jerked her forward—into the blood-soaked hall.

Gabriella stumbled, falling, her knees slamming into stone tiles. When she shook back her hair, she noted the faces of the demons and the dead swinging toward her and the silence that closed around her. Her heart hammering against her chest, she drew back her arm, trying to free herself from his grip. She scooted on the floor, her naked bottom sliding across the tiles, but her back met a hard wall. Stunned, she looked behind her and saw that the mirror on this side was small and high up the wall. The portal had closed and she was trapped. What have I done?

Low growls penetrated her terror. The hellhounds closed in on either side of her captor, and then the murmurs began, a slithering, raspy noise that grew into a roar as the creatures inside the room left their seats and surrounded them.

She curled her legs toward her torso, and tucked her arm over her breasts, trying to hide herself from dozens of ravenous gazes.

Her glance swung back to the demon that still held her in his grasp, rising slowly to meet his frightening eyes. His lips twisted. His arm swung out forcing her to unfold her legs and raising her onto her knees, exposing her body fully.

Her breaths shortened, rasping loudly as panic gripped her as tightly as he did. Would they fall on her, make a meal of her body? Or would they rape her? God, no, she’d sooner be eaten. The shame of her defeat, of her helplessness against greater strength and numbers, would live forever.

The beast holding her shot a glance over his shoulder, and the crowd backed up.

Would he take her first then give her over to the others? His lust was palpable, pounding, ticking at the side of one of his black eyes. His nostrils flared, and his head waved as though sucking in more of her scent. A bulge formed at the front of the black breeches he wore, thickening along the inside of one massive thigh.

She couldn’t help staring at it, knowing her eyes widened with fear. But his sex was long and thick, more than an average woman could take. But she wasn’t average. At six feet, her body was proportionately large and powerful, her hips wide, her woman’s channel deep and able to stretch to fit the circumference and length of a very large man.

Unbidden, her body reacted, spilling fluid to dampen her labia. She sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried to will away her attraction. How could she be growing aroused?

Was he causing it? Did he have that kind of power over a woman’s desire? Her nipples tightened, beading hard, and again she tried to shield them from his gaze, but he already knew.

She saw it in the fierce light glittering in his eyes.

Another tug of his hand and she was rising, teetering on weakened limbs. He ducked and pulled her over his shoulder.

As the world tilted, she flailed against him, clawing at his back through his clothing, but he turned on his heels and drove through the crowd. And because she was afraid, she didn’t lift her face to meet their gazes. She tucked her head against his back and closed her eyes. Wherever he was going—out of the room, or simply to one of the emptied tables to lower her and take her—she didn’t want to know.

Her only thoughts were of Alex and whether he’d care enough to search for her when he discovered she was gone.



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