Smokin' Hot Firemen and Delilah Devlin

Gad Saad, Ph.D wrote in Psychology Today, “Of all archetypes of a male hero, the firefighter ranks very highly on most women’s lists. It is not difficult to explain why such a “fireman” effect might exist. They are typically athletic men who face great physical risks, as a means of saving strangers’ lives. Many of these traits are highly sought after attributes in a male suitor and accordingly the fireman archetype is deeply entrenched in many women’s psyches.”

I don’t know what it is about them for me personally — they’re just big and pretty and strong and — one moment while I fan myself. When I see one I want to take him home, along with the rest of his firehouse. Yeah, I’m greedy like that.

But anyways, when things couldn’t get any hotter this summer, editor Delilah Devlin had to bring out even more heat with her new release Smokin’ Hot Firemen: Erotic Romance Stories for Women. I read it. I melted. Oh, baby! Talk about problems a tall glass of iced tea and a big paper fan ain’t gonna fix! Maybe I could shove a cat up a tree and call for help?

Delilah Devlin made Quixotic Orchid a pit stop on her mission to make the summer even hotter and answered the questions I had to ask while running down to the Clayton County animal shelter to adopt a cat. (Oh, like you ain’t running off to do the same damn thing!)

1. I love paranormal stories like those found in your Cleis Press anthologies GIRLS WHO BITE (2011) and SHE SHIFTERS (2012) as well many, many tales you have written for other books. You have a reputation for writing edgy stories with complex characters. Where do you find your inspiration?

I find inspiration every where: dreams, TV and movies, overheard snippets of conversation, things I see or think I see…

2. On my personal bookshelf I see a burst in contemporary alpha male heroes, like last year’s COWBOY LUST and my personal favorite SMOKIN’ HOT FIREMEN that came out this summer. What was it like reading and compiling a big batch of stories about the hero Psychology Today reports as being the #1 female fantasy — sigh — firemen?

Without a doubt, I have the best job in the world! I feel really lucky that Cleis liked my proposals well enough to allow me to put together the cowboy and firemen anthos. To me, iconic heroes, like cowboys, firemen, cops, etc., are every woman’s fantasy. We want edgy, dangerous action men, physically fit, sharp-minded, and sexually controlling, at least in our dreams. What we choose to live with might be an entirely different thing. I read dozens of great stories to find the few we put together for publication, and I can tell you, I bled over some of the stories I had to cut. Choosing stories is about more than just a single great read, it’s about putting together a book that flows, that shares theme and tone. Okay, your eyes are glazing now, let’s just say, my job’s not so tough, but someone has to do it!

3. What’s next?

September 3rd, the next super alpha male anthology releases, HIGH OCTANE HEROES! There’s a masculine ring to that title, but don’t be fooled. These are stories meant to titillate women. If you love over-the-top, manly men, this is your book. They can handle the heat, the danger, and the gunfire, but more importantly, they can handle a woman’s body, tie her up in knots, and twist her inside out in their quest to please her. You don’t want to miss it!

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Oh no, I don’t want to miss it!

And while we’re waiting for September 3rd to come knocking, here’s a sneak peek taste of Delilah’s “Johnny Blaze” just because I’m a tease like that:

So I had a thing for firefighters. Or, at least, one in particular — who didn’t even know I existed. The picture on the sandwich board outside the club — of a fireman wearing suspenders attached to the hose covering his privates — had been the deciding factor after I’d dug my heels into the concrete sidewalk. His body reminded me of my secret crush. Syl knew all about my private infatuation. She’d pointed to the board, then, while my jaw slackened, whipped me through the entrance.

Now she laughed and lifted her Mai Tai, eyes shining with devilment. “See anyone you’d like to take home?”

I eyed the dancer currently on the stage now — “Davey Crockett” — who wore a coonskin hat and a striped, bushy tail covering his parts while he did the helicopter, much to the delight of the audience whooping and hollering all around us.

“Nope,” I said, tightlipped. It had been forever since I’d seen a cock. To see one with a bushy tail was just bizarre. I raised my voice to be heard over the loud rock music. “How long do we have to stay?”

Syl shook her head and raised a finger in the air to hail a beer-bitch with a tray of Jell-O shots. A blue cup landed on the table in front of me. Rather than fight Syl, I raised the drink and threw it back, gagging a little before gulping it down.

Alcohol never sat right with me. It made me hot. Something I didn’t need right now, because my cheeks were already a fiery beet-red. Alcohol, added to the tanned, waxed buff bodies gyrating so close that splatters of sweat already spotted my blouse, left me feeling completely out of my element. The only reason I was still sitting here was because I had to see Johnny Blaze — not that a stripper would match up to the man of my fantasies.

Davey Crockett raised his arms over his head and did a flip, landing near the edge of the stage, his beaver tail slapping his belly, then his thighs.

I couldn’t help where my gaze landed — I wondered how much was furry sock and how much was his pleasure stick. Lord, the man was probably gay, anyway. I slid the napkin from under my drink and fanned my face.

The music stopped. A handsome man dressed in dark slacks and a black leather vest walked to the center of the stage. “Evenin’ ladies,” he said into the microphone he held, his thick Texas drawl sweet as syrup.

The crowd shouted back, “Evenin’, Jason.”

The women knew the announcer by name? Good lord, they needed to get a life.

Then he snagged my attention: “We have a birthday girl in the audience!” The audience erupted in laughter and catcalls.

My eyes rounded. I shot a look at Syl. “Nooo….”

Syl smiled slyly back. “You’re only twenty-five once, cupcake.”

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I loved talking to Delilah. I loved reading her, too.

And just in case you’re curious, yes, there is a shiny new trade paperback copy of Smokin’ Hot Firemen left here on my desk at Quixotic Orchid, sitting all lonely and waiting for someone to pick it up and take it home. Leave a comment below. Tell everybody why you think it is firemen bring out such tremendous heat and I’ll announce the winner on Thursday, August 8th. Good luck!