…And the accolades keep rollin’ in! Check out the link for the complete list of winners. GIRLS WHO BITE snagged the GLBT category! Congrats, ladies!

Advocate.com posted a list of the best “one-handed reads” to enjoy in 2012. Girls Who Bite made that list! Here’s the excerpt:

Girls Who Bite: Lesbian Vampire Erotica
Edited by Delilah Devlin
The author of Seduced By Darkness, Devlin is an excellent choice for editing this collection of short stories of sapphic seduction in the otherworld. Adding girl-on-girl action to the pantheon of the paranormal, the authors in Bite tackle everything from primeval vampires to slave-bound witches to Mexican salt eaters. Among the mostly newer writers are some surprising finds: Victoria Oldham, Anna Meadows, and Paisley Smith. ($15, Cleis Press)

Pretty cool, right?

“Erotica author Delilah Devlin is known for her sizzling paranormal tales. The new erotic anthology, Girls Who Bite, which Devlin edited, is no exception. Today, RT reviewer Dawn Crowne chats with the author about the inspiration for the collection, lesbian erotic romance and what readers can expect to see next from this hot talent…”

Read the rest: RT Book Reviews Interview with Delilah Devlin

The responses from readers and reviewers has been thrilling to the writers! Check out some of the early reviews!

“GIRLS WHO BITE is one incredible read. I’d highly recommend this book to everyone straight, lesbian, bi, it doesn’t matter. There are stories here that you need to read and experience… And a final note regarding the editor Delilah Devlin. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say she is borderline genius for putting together this fantastic lineup of stories.”
~5 Paddles from BDSM Book Reviews

“…Absolutely Amazing! Packed with heat, sexuality, and darkness. This book deliveries on so many levels.”
~Rated: Rose that Rules All! Magnificent!, Romancing the Book

“…The ride between the covers of this fabulous book is a sexy, sensual journey you should not miss… GIRLS WHO BITE was put together incredibly well and all the stories, although each different, flowed together nicely and were very intriguing! This anthology had me wanting more and turned me on to a whole new genre!”
~4 Stars from Dirty Birdies

“…I hope that you’ll give this very hot, very fresh anthology a try, even if you’re not “into” girls. This will definitely give you a different perspective into the world of lesbian erotica and I’m glad I spent my first time with Ms. Devlin’s beautiful choices.“
~5 Stars, Siren’s Songs Reviews

“…GIRLS WHO BITE is an extraordinary entertainment and highly recommended for adult reading lists.”
~5 Stars, Midwest Book Reviews

Girls Who Bite contributor, Paisley Smith, is blogging today at Loving Venus—Loving Mars. I’m sure she’d love it if you dropped by and left a comment! DD

The Contemporary Vampire: More Human Than Human

Vampires are powerful.

In most legends, stories, and films, this seems to be a given. Sometimes, they are preternaturally strong. Sometimes, they have psychic abilities. Often, they are ageless and very difficult to kill. And they are almost always sensually alluring.

Depending on the vampire tale, these powers are either explained or implied. Many contemporary paranormals offer detailed scientific descriptions of both vampirism and shapeshifting, while others feature supernatural characters who remain impenetrable mysteries. I’ll be interested to chart the range and presentation of vampiric abilities in the stories that comprise Girls Who Bite.

The recent trend in paranormal fiction—from Twilight to True Blood to Kim Harrison’s Hollows series and Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake series—has been to cast vampires in the role of romantic hero and to focus their strengths. In essence, the vampire has become a dark and broody gothic superhero and their otherness is the major point of attraction.

But as much as I enjoy reflecting on the innate power and sexuality of the female vampire, I am also fascinated by her weaknesses. In some ways, vampires are more human than human. Hunger, thirst, and sexual desire are universal to human beings, but vampires experience these sensations with supernatural viscerality. Whether a vampire burns or sparkles in the sunlight, their thirst defines them. By this logic, the vampire is the apotheosis of the human id. Ironically, the vampire’s profound craving for blood—the life-essence of humanity—has the potential to render her exponentially more vulnerable than her human prey.

I’ve spent the past three years co-writing the everafter paranormal romance series with Trinity Tam (published by Bold Strokes Books). In creating our protagonists, we set out to explore the tension between the strengths and weaknesses of both vampires and were-creatures. Our vampires are ageless, and drinking blood grants them superhuman strength, speed, and senses. However, they can be killed as easily as a mortal and they immolate in direct sunlight. Our wereshifters possess incredible powers of regeneration, but their inner beasts are very easily triggered and difficult to control. Both species are profoundly sexual beings, but the vampires in particular experience desire and thirst as separate sides of the same coin.

If you’re interested in learning more, I invite you to pick up everafter in ebook or print format. We’re eager to hear what you think of our take on the powerful figure of the female vampire.

Nell Stark is a faculty member at a small college in the SUNY system. Trinity Tam is a marketing executive in the music industry and an award-winning writer/producer of film and television. They live and write in New York City. Their newest release, nightrise, was just released in August 2011. For more information about the everafter series, visit www.everafterseries.com.

I found this blog written by a guy for guys. It’s entitled, “7 Things I Learned About Sex From Lesbian Vampire Erotica“—and it’s based on his review of GIRLS WHO BITE!

“…If you want to have better sex with women, asking a woman who has sex with women can’t hurt. If a woman chooses to lay it all out there for you in the form of a page-turning short story about a teenage vampire girl falling in love with a butch, shape-shifting butterfly, all the better.

You can easily take the two hours and do the research yourself, but here are seven things I learned about sex from reading lesbian vampire erotica. Believe me. This is just the tip of the iceberg.”

I promise you don’t want to miss it—it’s hysterical! Click on the link above and enjoy!

Today’s the official release date! I hope we’ve tempted you with excerpts and that you’ve enjoyed meeting the authors. We have a couple of early reviews of the book. So if you’re stradling the fence wondering if GWB is for you, read on…

“…original, sometimes devastating, and at other times unusual and brilliant…” 5 Stars, Love Romance Passion

“…The all new stories in this anthology will surprise you with their cleverness and their erotica. But they are more than erotic—they are sensitive and emotional and to me, at least, they fall into the category that I call literary erotica…” Reviews by Amos Lassen

Click on “ORDER” to buy your copy today!

Be sure to check back here in the coming days for special events and give-aways!

THE WINNER OF A FREE DOWNLOAD OF ONE OF BACKLIST IS ILONA! Contact me to claim your prize! Check my website for how http://mylajackson.com

Your titillating anticipation will culminate in the ORGASMIC release of GIRLS WHO BITE. Hurry and order your copy!

In The Gift of Lilith  an immortal surrenders all to her lover.

Today, I’ll offer a download of one of any of my back list ebooks to one lucky commenter. So leave a comment for a chance to win.

EXCERPT

Molly’s brows twisted. “Sometimes I don’t get you.” She planted a hand on the sweet swell of her hip. “How long have we known each other?”

I frowned. “Two years.”

“Long enough to know me.” Molly’s eyelids drooped. “I’ve been watching you.” She tossed the dresses over the back of the sofa as if she’d made a decision. She crossed to where I sat and perched her pert little ass on the sofa’s arm, her naked knees touching my silk-pajama-clad legs.

I could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric and my heartbeat stuttered. “So, you’ve been watching me.”

Molly’s pale fingers stroked my long, straight black hair. “I know more than you think.”

I cleared my throat, every part of me screaming to take her hand and guide it lower to that aching place between my legs. “What do you know about me?”

“Right now you want to touch me.”

I looked up, my eyes wide. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, don’t go getting all proper on me.” She trailed her fingers along the curve of my cheek and down the V of my neckline. “I know you’ve been watching me too.” She tweaked the point of my nipple, standing out against the royal-blue silk shirt.

My hand came up, covering the breast to keep her from touching it again. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time.” Molly crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

“No, of course not. I prefer men.”

“Then why haven’t I seen one come to your apartment in the two years I’ve lived here?”

“Perhaps I go to theirs.” I hadn’t been to a man’s apartment in several years. They no longer interested me. I found myself more and more interested in the lively redhead living above me. I’d wondered at my change in tastes after all these years. But then everyone who met Molly loved her. Her zest for life, the happiness that shone from every particle of her being was like a beacon tempting the lonely into her light.

Molly’s leg slid along mine, her knees parting, displaying a wide swath of her peaches-and-cream thigh. “See? You’re looking now.”

“How can I not when you practically planted yourself in my lap?” Oh, indeed, I was looking, more than I’d ever thought possible at any woman. But then Molly wasn’t any woman. She was…Molly.

“I got a bikini wax just for tonight.” Molly grabbed my hand and ran my fingers beside the triangle of black lace. “Smooth, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t resist. She was smooth and as silky as my lounging pajamas. I swallowed hard, wanting to slide my fingers beneath the lace of her panties, but proper ladies of the early eighteen hundreds didn’t contemplate such deviancies. I removed my hand from her crotch. “Do you always prance around in your unmentionables?”

“Only for the people I want to do the unmentionable with.” She leaned close and whispered in my ear, “Ever do it with a girl?”

Shock skittered across my skin with the warmth of her breath. “Once.” A very long time ago. The event might have been over two hundred years past, yet I could recall it as though it was yesterday. Life changing barely began to describe the experience.

Molly curved her hand around my cheek and turned my face to hers. “Honey, life is incredibly short, you have to make the most of moments like this.” Her lips descended on mine.

I sat motionless, unable to stop her, not really wanting to. For two years, I’d lusted after the young woman living above me. I’d denied my hunger, telling myself it wasn’t natural and bad things always came to those who went against nature. My situation was a prime example.

When her tender lips touched mine, a sigh escaped me. I’d wanted this for so long, fighting instinct with every fiber of my being. The last time I’d been tempted by a woman, I’d taken on more than I’d ever dreamed. She’d made me immortal.

Enjoy a snippet from Angela Caperton’s “Pet Door.” The mixture of D/s and a shapeshifting vampire eager for a leash were to delicious for me not to include! Delilah Devlin

*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I scratched, just like the bitch I am.

Wet, shivering, hungry, I pawed at her door and salivated, drooled really, a puppy eager to be paddled with a newspaper and scolded.

Hungry.

I’d watched her for several nights, watched how she’d stared down the valets, eloquently subdued jerks who propositioned her after her performance, salivated as she stroked her tempered violin and fingered the bow before she bound them into the velvet-lined case.

After all, how many virtuosi performed in tight-laced corsets and four-inch spiked heels? For her, I could even listen to the same Brahms Concerto a thousand times before I stabbed myself in the chest with a broken broom handle.

She was it; she could give me what I wanted, what I needed. One glimpse of her complete and utter control of the bow over the strings of the violin and I knew I was lost, or maybe saved.

The rain fell in buckets, the late night squall a blessing to me. I shook off the excess water before I scratched at her door again, eyes acceptably pitiable, the tremble in my body horribly exaggerated, but I was in the form of a little wolf-dog, I was sure she’d think. Would she discern the difference between real discomfort and play-acted misery?

The front entryway to the antebellum home made me smile. At the base, a large pet door, one meant for a medium-sized dog.

I scratched and whined with delicate distress and, even before I was ready, she answered, her corset loosened, breasts freely bobbing in the cups, her tight black skirt gone, revealing red silken panties, a lacy garter, and sleek black stockings. She still wore her high heels. I wanted to lick them, but they stood beyond the invisible barrier of her permission.

I trembled, but this was no act. I wanted her. God, how I wanted her. I whined, unabashed, begging.

She just stared, fresh rain soaking my pelt again. I tilted my head and lowered my lids, going for a look as forlorn as I could manage. I uttered the slightest yip of distress.

“Jesus,” she groaned, looking at me as if I were a worm.

I quivered, excited, wanting more of her contempt.

“Come on in, you idiot,” she said, and I bloomed inside, my entry blessed. I started forward beyond the threshold.

And the door bruised my nose.

She closed it. She invited me in, but closed the door.

I blinked, stunned. Was she kidding? Was she just being cruel? I knew about cruel; I was born from it. I could be cruel too if provoked.

The narrow plane of the pet door swung open, kicked by her high-heeled foot.

I shivered anew, almost unable to move for the shaking of my four limbs. She knew me. Oh, she knew me so well.

I pushed my nose against the pet door, her blunt welcome freeing me to enter, and I slid between the wet, cold night and the warmth of her house.

She looked at me as though my damp, musky coat was my fault. Disdain, barely restrained tolerance, and chastisement shimmered just a breath away.

Saliva pooled behind my canines.

She pointed. “Kitchen. I’ll not have that smell in my carpet.”

Kitchen. Hard, cold, smooth tiles. I padded across the forest green carpet to the Spanish red floor. I wanted to shake, dislodge the excess water from my pelt before it tickled my skin, but the look in her eyes stilled the instinct. I didn’t want to anger her, didn’t want to have her toss me out into the rain again.

I trembled for the control, ached for the firm grip on the leash. She had it, I knew she did.

Angela Caperton writes eclectic erotica that challenges genre conventions. Look for her stories published with Black Lace and eBury Publishing, Cleis, Circlet, Coming Together, Drollerie, eXtasy Books, Renaissance and in the indie magazine Out of the Gutter.