Available now for Pre-order in both paperback and e-book!

Coming November 4, 2014

In rural Montana…
Wade Knowlton is a hardworking lawyer who’s torn between his small-town Montana law practice and a struggling family ranch. He’s on the brink of exhaustion from trying to save everybody and everything, when gorgeous Nicole Powell walks into his office. She’s a damsel in distress and the breath of fresh air he needs.

Even the lawyers wear boots…

Nicole Powell is a sassy Southern girl who has officially sworn off cowboys after a spate of bad seeds-until her father’s death sends her to Montana and into the arms of a man who seems too good to be true. Her instincts tell her to high tail it out of Montana, but she can’t resist a cowboy with a slow hand…

Praise for Victoria Vane’s erotic romance:
“Erotic and sexy…absolutely marvelous.” -Library Journal on the Devil DeVere series, a Top Ebook Romance of 2012
“The Mistress of Sensuality does it again!” -Swept Away By Romance
“With Ms Vane’s trademark prose and touches of humor-this is once again a brilliant story by a gifted writer.” -Romantic Historical Lovers Reviews

EXCERPT: SLOW HAND by Victoria Vane

Wade hung up his hat, and then came behind the desk to glance over Iris’s shoulder. “What’s on the docket this week?”

“Not much. Just more disputes over grazing rights.”

“Grazing rights again! I’m damned sick of environmentalists and special interest groups sticking their noses into our business. Give ’em an inch and they’ll take it all, not giving a damn that the majority of people here are just trying to eke out modest livings.” Wade raked his hand through his sandy hair with a curse. “Damned vegan tree-huggers will destroy our entire state economy.”

Iris rolled her eyes as if anticipating a full-blown tirade. “Be back in a jiffy.” She winked at Nikki as she slipped out the door.

Nikki grinned. “I take it you’re not a card-carrying member of the Green Party?”

“No.” His gaze narrowed and brows pulled into a frown. “You’re not one of them I hope.”

“Who me?” Nikki shook her head. “No, sir-ee, I’m a live-and-let-live Libertarian and a longtime omnivore. My grandparents had a chicken farm in Lavonia. I betcha didn’t know Georgia is the country’s biggest chicken producer.”

“No, ma’am.” His shoulders visibly relaxed. “I didn’t, but then I’m not a big chicken fan myself.”

She let her gaze travel over him in a slow appreciation of his tall, lean, muscular frame. She guessed he stood at least six-three in his boots. “I suppose not,” she said. “It would be only prime grass-fed beef and Idaho potatoes for you.”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned on the door frame studying her. “Miz Powell, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were undressing me with those pretty blue-green eyes of yours.”

A guilty flush infused her face but she refused to give him the advantage. She opted for a strong offense instead. “So what if I was? Weren’t you quite fixated on my ass at Denver airport?”

He raised a sandy eyebrow. “You noticed that, eh?” His confession came with a shameless grin attached.

She jutted her chin. “Quid pro quo, Counselor. What do you say to that?”

He approached her slowly, the smile in his eyes transforming in a blink to a wicked gleam. A gleam that promised very bad things. His reply sent a warning signal to every nerve in her body. “I’d say, why just use your eyes?”

Dear God, he was trouble with a capital T.

He closed the space between them in two long strides. Instinctively, Nikki backed up as many steps—but her ass hit the desk. Before she realized what he was about, he’d caught her hips and lifted her onto it. He held her hostage with his gazed locked on hers, his arms braced on either side of hips. “There’s something real interesting going on here,” he remarked at length.

Nikki swallowed hard, her gaze wavering. “I already told you I’m not interested. I don’t do casual hookups.”

“You think that’s what this is about?”

“Isn’t it?” she asked, intentionally blithe.

He shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a damn powerful attraction to you.”

She’d never had such a strong reaction to another man either. All he had to do was look at her to get her pulse racing and her insides quivering. And right now he was too damned close for comfort. She shifted backward, trying to create some distance, but there was nowhere to go.

“Don’t you have to be in court soon, Counselor?” she reminded him in a voice that came out breathless.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied. “Guess I got a bit sidetracked. You’re turning out to be a big distraction, you know that?”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such an imposition.”

“I said a distraction not an imposition. There’s a big difference. I didn’t realize until now just how badly I’ve needed such a distraction.” He stepped away with a reluctant sigh.

Her pulse still hammering in anticipation, Nikki exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized was trapped in her chest.

Wade spun toward his office. “Help yourself to the phone and anything else while I get cleaned up.” He paused again on the threshold. “Of course, you’re welcome to use my office if you need greater privacy.” He added over his shoulder with a look of devilment. “Or in the event any wild impulse overtakes you while I shower.”

He went to work on his shirt buttons. His collar was soon wide open revealing a generous show of muscular chest that make her hands itch to rip it off him. She diverted her gaze and curled her itchy hands by her sides.

“Have no fear, cowboy,” Nikki replied in a tone meant to disguise the warm flush that had come over her. “I corralled all my wild impulses long ago.”

“Did you, now?” He still stood in doorway, head cocked. “Somehow, I think you may have missed a few strays.”

“Maybe I need to make myself clearer. I have an aversion to cocky cowboys.”

Just keep telling yourself that, Nikki. Maybe if you repeat it often enough itll become true.

“Is that so?” His brows flew upward. “I can’t say I ever met a woman with an actual aversion to me.”

“Don’t take it personally. It’s nothing against you in particular, but to your type.”

“And what do you think you know about my type?”

“Since I don’t have a pole handy, enough to keep you at arm’s length. Besides that, this whole line of conversation is entirely inappropriate in light of professional ethics, don’t you think? You are my attorney, after all.”

“Well, darlin’”—he scratched his unshaven jaw—“there’s a little hitch to that.”

“What do you mean? You said you’d help me.”

“And I will, but you can’t engage my professional services until I know who you are.”

“I’ve told you who I am!” she insisted.

“Sweetheart, I’m a lawyer, and according to the law, your claim don’t weigh without authentication.”



“So what are you saying? That you don’t believe me?”

“I’m not saying that at all. Only that our professional relationship will commence once you get your ID. In the interim”—his gaze slid over her in a way that threatened to melt her insides—“you’d best find yourself a nice, long, sturdy pole.”








Victoria Vane Project Update…

Since so many people have ask me when I will be releasing a new historical, I thought I’d post a brief update to share what’s currently in the works.

As most of you know, I am working hard on my very first contemporary romance series coming from Sourcebooks, four hot cowboy titles set in Montana and Wyoming. The first two books, SLOW HAND and ROUGH RIDER are finished and already in production. I am presently 2/3 finished with the third book, STRAIGHT SHOOTER and will be turning in the fourth book, SILVER TONGUE in October. The first release is November 4, 2014 with the rest to follow at three month intervals into summer 2015.

Once I have finished, I will be working on a hot Las Vegas set series for Kensington presently entitled, HOTEL RODEO. This series is comprised of three connected novellas, similar to how I structured my DeVere series. It’s also scorching hot!

Now a bit about planned historical projects, While I don’t have time to write anything full length this year, I am excited to say I will be writing one short story and one or two novellas for release in 2015. For the short story, I will be teaming up with a talented group of authors from the EMBRACING ROMANCE BLOG for a Valentine’s Day anthology that we are calling PASSIONATE PROMISES. My contribution will feature Mariah and Nick, secondary characters from A BREACH OF PROMISE with a cameo appearance by Marcus’ mother, Lady Russell.

As for the DEVIL DEVERE, I am in the process of releasing the first two box sets and will soon  be moving forward with my third DeVere prequel, NED’S FOLLY, a steamy romance novella featuring Ned and his first wife Annalee.  So there you have it!


THE DEVIL’S MATCH FREE on Amazon 5/28-6/1/14

The Devil's Match by Victoria Vane

Free for the first time THE DEVIL’S MATCH by Victoria Vane

In this fourth installment of the award-winning Devil DeVere series, Diana has come to London as her goddaughter’s chaperone. Wanting to avoid her erstwhile lover at all costs, she nevertheless has no choice but to appeal to DeVere for help when Vesta mysteriously disappears. Although once nearly consumed by her passion for DeVere, four years has reduced the former inferno to bitterness and ashes.

Ludovic’s time abroad has only served to deepen his debauchery. He’s become jaded, world-weary, and bored. He also recognizes with self-annoyance that the marks of his discontent have only  increased upon a certain person’s arrival in London. When Diana makes her appearance in his den of iniquity in all of her glorious self-righteous fury, he suddenly feels alive again. While DeVere is once more hell-bent to have Diana back in his bed, she will do whatever it takes to bring him to his knees.

 **Note: This edition has been re-edited to better read as a stand alone **


All eyes turned to the door where DeVere paused, doffed his hat to bride and groom, and made a sweeping bow. He continued toward them, sporting a glazed look and a somewhat unsteady gait.

“What the devil!” Hew exclaimed. “Is he drunk?”

“By all appearances…” Edward shrugged. “I suppose it was to be expected. He told me he strongly preferred a quiet civil ceremony, rather than all the hullabaloo. At least he deigned to make an appearance.”

“Perhaps I’d rather he hadn’t. My apologies, dearest,” Hew said to Vesta. “Do you wish me to ask him to leave?”

“Lackaday, Hew!” Vesta exclaimed. “He is your brother!”

“Still, I won’t have him embarrass you.” Hew looked to Sir Edward.

“I am long accustomed to DeVere’s caprice. He may do as he wishes…as long as he remains clothed.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Diana asked.

“The night Annalee and I were engaged, he took a naked dip in the ornamental fountain. Luckily, the rose petals concealed…you know.”

Diana was aghast. “Has he no sense of propriety?”

“None,” Hew answered. “A word of warning, Diana, the less made of it, the better. Should you dare criticize, he will only delight in flouting you all the more.”

“Dear brother. Dear sister.” Bride and groom regarded him with uncertainty as DeVere embraced each with a kiss on the cheek. Diana was assailed with the pungent smell of brandy even from where she stood behind them. She also noted with distaste that he was rumpled, unshaven, his velvet coat was covered with dust, and mud clung to the soles of his normally glossy black boots. “Why the long faces?” he asked.

Hew gave him a scathing look. “What did you do? Come straight from the races?”

“It was either that or ne’er at all.” DeVere filched a glass of champagne from a passing footman. He raised it in a silent salute and then downed the contents in one draught. “Music!” he cried. “Let the festivities begin.” He commanded the orchestra with an imperious wave of his hand. He turned back to Hew and patted his coat pocket with a sloppy smile. “I was obliged to stay until the last race, but at least I am arrived plump enough in the purse to open the Faro bank.”

“The Faro bank?” Vesta’s gaze flitted from DeVere to Hew with dismay. “But you can’t do it, Uncle Vic! It would ruin the party if you commence gaming, for there will not be a single gentleman left for the dancing. Besides, you must be the first to commence.”

Ludovic turned to the tiny termagant with an intimidating arch of his brow. “You expect me to dance?”

“Indeed, you must,” Vesta insisted. “By tradition, the highest-ranking couple always opens the dancing with a minuet, and you are a viscount, after all.”

“A minuet?” he said. “Bloody hell. It only gets worse. Do you really think to have me tripping about the dance floor like some Frenchified fop in front of a hundred people?”

Vesta’s face crumpled. Tears misted her eyes. Her lower lip quivered. “Please, Uncle Vic,” she implored prettily. “It’s your only brother’s engagement party, and it’s tradition for the highest-ranking gentleman to lead out the highest-ranking lady. If you do not do so, then who will accompany Aunt Di?”


Ludovic noted the glimmer in her eye and the sly quirk of Vesta’s lips. The scheming little baggage was once more up to something. Very well then, I’ll play along.

“Me?” Diana queried. “Vesta, I have no intention of dancing with anyone.

She couldn’t have made it more clear who anyone was, yet Ludovic noted with satisfaction how she avoided his gaze. “But, my dear Lady Palmerston-Wriothesley, we wouldn’t wish to defy tradition, would we? What would people say?” he mocked.

“You are wearing boots,” she replied with contempt. “A gentlemen does not dance in boots.”

He glanced down at his feet with a feigned look of surprise. “Ah, so I am. Yet fabricated of the supplest calfskin by George Hoby’s own hands.” He extended a leg in admiration and then experimentally flexed and rotated his ankle.

Diana visibly paled.

Ludovic chuckled. “I daresay I can manage even with the boots.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Why ever not?”

“My lord, you may make an ass of yourself all you like, but I will not allow you to humiliate me or our dear goddaughter.”

“Once again, my lady, you make unfounded presumptions. You will put your antagonism aside for Vesta and Hew’s sake. And I will lead you out to the floor where you will dance with a smile upon your face as if you are transported.”

“And if I refuse?” she challenged.

He answered sotto voce with a twisted smile. “Then, my dear, I will bodily carry you. And I promise there is not a single one here who would dare to intervene.”