Doris O'Connor & Raven McAllan "The Dukes' Christmas Abductions" @mamaD8 @RavenMcAllan @evernightpub #erotic

Thanks so much for having the lovely Raven and me on your blog today. You know, we often talked about writing a book together, but that’s as far as it went. Then our reader group The RavdorChicks started nagging us—in the nicest possible way of course—that they would love us to write a story together.

So, after much frantic skype messaging, where we brainstormed ideas, and one very sleepless night from me, when the start of a workable story actually came to me, the idea was born.

What followed was a fun filled four days with Raven in Scotland, where we put our heads down, fuelled by wine, chocolate, and Gin&Tonics, and our fingers flew.

We had so much fun writing this story I can say this won’t be our last collaboration. We hope readers will like The Dukes’ Christmas Abductions as much as we loved writing this story.

Much love from both of us!

Stay naughty now, folks.

D & R xxx

Blurb:

Follow your heart and cross space and time…

When Clara lands the job as curator of Faversham House it’s a dream come true. Especially when her favorite Regency Erotica writer Vicky Hopewell shadows her in the run up to the annual estate ball—a tradition left over from Regency times.

The costume ball is always the highlight of the year, but neither woman expects to be confronted by two drop dead gorgeous Dukes.

Daniel Danvers, the Duke of Hockwell thinks Clara is one of the servants invited to the estate ball.

Kit Capel, the Duke of Aulban cannot understand why his wife Victoria acts as though she doesn’t know him.

As both couples slowly come to terms with the reality of their situations, can they find happiness? Is it as simple as following your heart?

Be Warned: bondage, spanking

Buy it from: Evernight  Amazon  Amazon UK   ARe  Bookstrand

Excerpt (18+):

Daniel paused mid swatting the delectable arse in front of him to rub, what must be a considerable ache by now, away. His quarry had stopped screaming for this Vicky, at last, and unless his senses were completely off, she was starting to enjoy his attention. Certainly her breaths were coming in short gasps, and instead of struggling, she was raising her bottom into every carefully placed swat of his hand.

The evening was definitely looking up. As was his cock, which was in danger of splitting his evening breeches.

There was one way to find out for sure. Daniel slipped his fingers under the hideous undergarments, and smirked at the all over body shiver his girl gave. Satisfied with not only her reaction but also by the wet, hair-free cunt he found, he let his digits linger.

“Oh, god.”

Her breathless moan spurred him on, and he grinned when he found her hidden pearl. She shivered again when he circled the tight nub, and Daniel set up lazy circles, designed to drive any woman wild. This chit proved no exception. The air grew heavy with the musk of aroused woman, and Daniel inhaled deeply, before he stopped the movement.

A strangled groan escaped his girl, and he tapped her arse again, when she tried to rub her cunt on his fingers.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I want the truth, starting with your name, and maybe then I’ll let you find release. Only on my say so, though, are we clear here, girl?”

“Fuck, yes … ow.”

Her arse cheeks wobbled most satisfactorily, when he yanked that odd fabric down to her knees, and delivered a few more swats to her delectable arse. The woman had a derriere made for fucking, hips to grab onto while he sunk his cock into her body and claimed what was his. That thought made his head come up. His? He had no business having proprietary thoughts toward a servant like that.

“Fuck, we most certainly will, but not without you telling me who you are, so…” He delivered another open handed swat across both of her arse cheeks this time, and her answering deep throated moan made him go so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t spilled in his breeches yet.

“Clara, Sir. My name is Clara.”

Daniel slid his fingers through her sodden slit, and flicked her nub once, causing her to give another one of those cock hardening moans.

“Very nice, but the correct address would be my lord, chit, would it not?”

A strangled groan was his response this time, and when he withdrew his fingers again, she slumped.

“Sorry, My Lord.”

The girl, Clara, he mentally amended, had fire, that was for sure, if the intonation she gave his title was anything to go by. A certain amount of boldness was something Daniel certainly appreciated in his bed partners. If Clara was a lady’s maid, she was wasted in that position. As his mistress, however… His mood improved dramatically as that thought took hold.

It was Christmas, time to be charitable and all that went with such bounty, and what could be better than elevating this lovely creature from her status of mere servant to his mistress.

Mind thus made up, it was time to taste her nectar and to see if what he was suspecting would be true. That Clara and he would mesh perfectly in the bedroom, and he could let his darker desires shine through.

He indulged himself by sliding several digits through her wet cunt, lubricating them with her juices, before he slipped one finger into her tight channel, and brought his thumb to press against the puckered hole, guarding that entrance.

Clara stiffened slightly, but she didn’t voice any protest, and when he started to thrust the finger in her cunt slowly in and out of her, she gasped. Her hips rose in involuntary jerks, which told him how close she already was to exploding under his ministrations. Her untutored responses made him want to hurry this along, but Daniel was never an inconsiderate lover. He would give her several releases before he claimed his own.

“Good girl, and who do you work for?”

Clara moaned and writhed against him, her internal muscles fluttering around his fingers in rippling moves, which signaled her impending orgasm as clearly as the rosy flush spreading across her skin. So beautifully responsive. She jerked when he tapped her nub, and then withdrew his hand.

“Faversham Estate. Oh god, please, My Lord … I.” The rest of her pretty little plea was lost in a screech as he swung her off his lap and onto his bed. Her breasts bounced most satisfactorily, and her lovely almond shaped green eyes widened further when he crawled onto the bed with her, and straddled her midriff. Daniel grasped her arms and brought them high above her head. The action made her breasts rise up in silent offering, and Daniel smirked.

“Hmm, that would mean you work for me. How delightful. Whatever position you hold here, I much prefer you in this one, unable to move and at my mercy. I’m going to tie your wrists together and tether you to one of the posts, sweet Clara. Is that acceptable to you?”

*****

About the Authors:

Doris O’Connor

Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Time Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.

Stalk her in these places:

Website Reader Group Tsu Twitter Facebook Pinterest Evernight Publishing

Amazon All Romance E-Books BookStrand Barnes&Noble

Raven McAllan

Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.

She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.

A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she's strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.

She admits she's no domestic goddess, and wonders why tourists think she might run the local bed and breakfast. She doesn't.

Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

Stalk her in these places:

Website  Amazon  Facebook Facebook (Author Page)

 ARe  Bookstrand  Twitter

A Look At Raven McAllan & 'The Racing Driver's Wife' @RavenMcAllan @evernightpub #erotic

Today we have author Raven McAllan visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?
* Ever since I won not one but two, Cadbury, ‘where does chocolate come from’ competitions in primary school, I was convinced, one day I would write a book. My parents encouraged me. My schoolteachers despaired of me. Flowery. Romantic. Not factual. Hey I loved weaving stories about anything and anyone.
* So what happened to my grand ideas? Life got in the way.
* So more years later than I am prepared to disclose (hey a woman has to have some secrets) Here I am, an author. Not even that, a published author! Happy or what?
* Married to my own hero (how cheesy is that) we live on the edge of a Scottish Forest. I write on my lap top in my study, watching the birds on the bird table, the strange big black fluffy ‘ I’m pretending to be a bird’ cat, sitting on it and trying to convince the many birds he is invisible, occasionally seeing deer and red squirrel moving past. I am privileged. As a non-closet romantic, sometime neurotic, and lover of words, I so enjoyed getting involved with my hero and heroines. I hope you do too.

What are you going to tell us about today?
* What is it with some men and their attitudes?
* Hot bods, hot blooded and often hot tempered. You know, speak first, regret it later.
* Yeah, them. They might make you shiver quiver and tingle—however that level of hotness can be hard to live with. They can't help themselves, bless them, sometimes, when they try to shield their love from all the nasties that could affect them.
* And we all know how damned annoying that is. Why do they think we're such fragile little flowers we can't cope. Because if they think that, sometimes, we begin to think it as well…
* And that's where the problems can start…
* My first book, The Rock Star's Wife, in the series, Their Wives, is already out.
* On 17th, The Racing Driver's Wife is out.
* Happy Reading! A look into...

~ Blurb ~ * Some risks are worth taking…
* Racing driver Gael Lorenzo is used to taking his life in his hands, if only he could say the same for his errant wife. He meant his wedding vows, and there will never be another woman for him, but what can he do to win her back?
* Darcy thought she knew the risks of being married to a man who lives for his sport. The reality of the race track, however, proves too much for her. Nevertheless, giving Gael up entirely, is not an option either.
* When circumstances force them back into each other’s company, neither one of them can let this chance go. Together they are stronger than apart, and their marriage is worth fighting for, isn’t it? ~ Excerpt ~ * Gael Lorenzo ducked the remote control as it flew through the air in his direction, and caught it in one hand.
* "How on earth you ever get from A to B when your coordination is so bad I have no conception," he said as he walked into the room and put the control down on the table. He made sure it was well out of Darcy's arm reach. He knew how sneaky she could be if she thought the occasion warranted it. Damned if he wasn’t more nervous then before a race. He was under no illusion that the next few moments were going to be sticky. "That was more likely to hit the window than me."
* Darcy made a sound somewhere between a scream and a snort. "Ass. You scared the living daylights out of me. And as for your one-upmanship, how on earth you lie so successfully and don't bat an eyelid, I have no conception," Darcy said. "‛My wife is my life’," she parroted and rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that'll be right. After your car, your team and…"
* "And nothing, cara." One-upmanship? He'd thought he was very restrained. He made no mention of open doors, lack of security, self-preservation or the like. "You believe what you will, but I speak the truth. If my wife would let it be so." He shrugged. "Then it would be. However, she chooses to live her own life, and I have to accept that." He winced as he became oh-so-very Italian. It was a measure of his concern and the knowledge of just how important this meeting was.
* Darcy turned toward the television where the bouncy idiot he'd had to endure warbled on in her happy-clappy manner. Gael braced himself. He knew what was about to come, and he'd hoped to speak to Darcy beforehand. It seemed a tractor and trailer, and a laden log lorry who just knew they owned the road, had put paid to that. He'd spent twenty minutes breathing their fumes, before passing in a spot only the brave or foolhardy would use. It wasn't that you couldn't see any oncoming traffic—the road ran straight for nigh on half a mile. It was the width of the ruts and gravel that was tricky. Gael got by with no more than an inch on each side and a dozen or so scratches from the gravel where it jumped up and scored the paintwork. As it was a hire car, he guessed that his chance of a cheap rental ever again had just disappeared down the toilet.
* "…and so you say this woman is lying?" The voice reverberated around the room. "In fact you're happily married? There is a wife, but she's not hidden away somewhere? So why isn't she with you? Are you estranged?"
* Darcy turned to him, and if he had one wish, it would be to banish the pained look in her eyes. Heaven help him, he'd done his best to avert the interview, but some ferrety reporter had discovered he was married and of course it was full bodied fodder for the gossip columns. Gael knew fine and well how his boring, no companion, race, practice, test, train and sleep regime annoyed them. Even more so because in his youth he'd kept most of them in business.
* "Cara, I…"
* "Shh, I'm listening to what my husband has decided to say." Darcy turned her back on him. "Even if he chooses not to say it to me. Strange, that."
* Gael spent a few seconds admiring the curve of her spine and the way a few tendrils of reddish brown hair tickled the nape of her neck before he shrugged and wandered into the kitchen. After several wrong attempts he found mugs and coffee and set the stovetop machine on the hotplate to percolate.
* It was inevitable this day would come, but he wished it hadn't been mid season, where his chances for in-depth discussion would be few and far between. Unless he could persuade Darcy to accompany him to the track, and after today there was less likelihood of that than persuading her to fly to the moon.
* He was pouring the liquid into two mugs when a sound alerted him to her presence. She leaned against the doorjamb, her long legs bare and a tiny skirt and strappy top covering what needed to be covered to preserve her decency.
* "What a load of cobblers you spouted. 'My wife has a busy life and we prefer to have our time together without interruptions. Those moments are precious and I'm greedy enough not to want to share them with anyone else. Lucky for me she feels the same'." Darcy parroted his explanation in the interview in a sarcastic tone. "Yuck, so icky-sicky. Why didn't you just divorce me?" She held her sunglasses by one of the arms and spun them around before jamming them on her nose. "You have grounds. I left you."
* It was a pity, because Gael could no longer see her eyes to gauge her reaction to his words. "Sadly I couldn't find any Italian coffee, but I've done the best I could."
* "You get whatever was on offer and lump it. I buy for myself, not for unwelcomed guests."
* He winced very theatrically, and was immediately ashamed when she coloured and looked away from him.
* "Why should I divorce you? I took my vows in all faith, and intended to abide by them. I still do. In sickness and in health, in good times and bad. Etcetera. The fact we are apart does not negate my love for you. That strengthens every day. It is above everything. It's your choice not to be with me, and I have to accede to your preference." He took a swallow of coffee and grimaced. "It was pigs’ swill on sale, cara. You were robbed if they called it coffee. False advertising."
* "Join the real world, caro. See how the most of us live." Buy The Racing Driver's Wife here... Evernight Publishing | All Romance eBooks | Amazon - UK | Amazon - US | BookStrand Find Raven McAllan here... Website | Blog | Facebook - Profile | Facebook - Page | Twitter | Amazon - US | Amazon - UK Thank you for joining us here today, Raven McAllan! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

A Look At Raven McAllan's Top Ten for 'Hong Kong Heat' @RavenMcAllan @LoveBitesSilk #erotic #contemporary #HongKong

Hong Kong Heat by +Raven McAllan Genres: Erotic Romance, Contemporary Add to Goodreads

A look into the story

Ten Facts about Hong Kong Heat you might not know about.
1. I got the idea when I was in Hong Kong on holiday.
2. My friend Debra chose the hero and heroine's names.
3. I was on Facebook when a Fb friend, Maggie asked what I was doing up at that time. (It was night in the UK and early morning in Hong Kong where I was.) I said trying to find the best way from Central to Stanley, and she came back with take the MTR to Chai Wan, and told me what exit to use and what bus number to get. She'd lived in the city. What a coincidence.
4. I started writing the book in Amsterdam.
5. My Hubby and I have walked Lamma Island—without the detour!
6. The hotel is a mixture of several hotels I've stopped in.
7. I've also based the Singapore hotel on one I've stayed in.
8. I was determined Debra should have a hot bod toy boy—and enjoy herself.
9. The Star Ferry does have a ferry with a moustache painted on it for Movember
10. I've also spent many a happy day wandering around Stanley. The boob paragraph is taken form real life.

* Debra Scotburn never thought of herself as a cougar, until she fell in lust at first sight with a much younger man.
* Daniel Van Meister, a trouble-shooter for the Simply Five Star Hotel chain doesn't do commitment, until the older, curvy, vivacious brunette robs him off his ability to control a certain body part.
* Unable to keep their hands off each other, they embark on a passion-filled holiday fling.
* Surely that is all it can ever be? Daniel's work takes him all around the world at a moment's notice, and Debra is on the last leg of her middle-aged-crisis induced gap year.
* When misunderstandings tear them apart, can they both admit their love and find the trust needed to make this more than just a fling?

* In one swift movement the lady pushed off the side, kissed him hard on the lips and turned to swim away. He was too fast for her. Braam held her by the shoulders, tread water and kissed her back.
* She groaned deep into his mouth and let her tongue swirl with his. Her body floated next to his and her breasts teased his chest. The thin lace that covered her was no barrier to hide how her nipples stood out. Braam slid one leg between hers and moved one hand to hold her ass and push her tight against him.
* She wriggled and ground her pussy on his cock. Yet again, the few scraps of lace she wore were negligible. Even so it took immense control not to rip them away and have nothing between them. Instead he held her close, let her rub herself on him and savoured the moment. Braam swam them backwards a few feet until he could rest on a ledge a foot or so underwater and sit his lady on his knees with her legs either side and her pussy open to his cock. It was teasing, tantalising and downright enjoyable. Judging by the shivers and mewls she made as he nibbled her ear and scattered kisses over her face and mouth, she agreed. Her hands played with his nipples.
* Until his cock gave notice that a few more seconds’ play and they’d need to clean the pool out. He was so close to coming it hurt.
* Braam pulled back and she moaned in protest.
* “Honey, I’m so close to coming it’s painful. We need to get out and find somewhere more suitable.” He towed her to the roman steps at one end of the pool and glanced around the area. Not even a sunbed had been left out.
* His lady looked dazed and her eyes were misty.
* “Eh?”
* “We can’t come in the pool. Well, I can’t. We need to… Holy hell and fuck.”
* She sat up, half out of the water, and rubbed her face. “That sounds rude and hold on, we need to fuck? Who says?”
* “Well, you didn’t say we didn’t a few minutes ago,” Braam said. “But we need condoms. I don’t suppose you have one with you?”
* “Con… Argh, shit and fuck. No, strangely I don’t. They’re not something I feel I need when I go for a walk at midnight.” She sounded horrified. “Even if it does include an illicit swim. You?”
* He shook his head. “Sadly no. I mean where would I carry it?
* She got out of the pool and looked around her. “Apart from that, I don’t make a habit of screwing with strangers, even with a condom. Where’s a towel? Blame it on the moon, oh, I don’t know, temporary insanity or jet lag or something. Pure fucking stupidity. Look, if you try anything, I’ve got a black belt in karate. So, towels?”
* “Locked away. Along with sunbeds, robes and all things needed to fuck.” He paused. “Or dry off.”
* She shut her eyes and sighed. “Figures. Oh, Lord, what have I done?”
* “Nothing yet, and in the future? Up to you, but let me say, I seem to have been inflicted by the same bout of insanity if that’s any consolation.”
* “It isn’t. I guess I’ll have to do the walk of shame in a dress sticking to my wet body.”
* “Or we could make love and dry off that way?” Braam suggested. He could have bitten his tongue out. Do I have a death wish? When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?
* “Or not. Sorry. But I don’t even know your name. Isn’t it at least polite to be introduced or something?”
* She shivered and Braam stood up and left the pool to grab his shirt.
* “Here, use this to dry off.” He handed her the shirt and walked to the other side of the pool where his jacket and trousers were. “My name is Abraham,” he said as he used his jacket to soak up the bulk of the moisture on him. It looked like even the dry cleaners wouldn’t save it. “Braam to my friends.”
* There was silence from the other side of the pool.
* “And you?”
* His answer was to hear the faint noise of the lift descending.

* I'm growing old disgracefully and loving it.
* Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.
* Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.
* I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I'm often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I'm not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.
* Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.
Find Raven McAllan here...
Website | Blog | Facebook - Profile | Facebook - Page | Twitter | Amazon - US | Amazon - UK

Available for early download via Totally Bound. Out on general release on eBook and Print: March 27th.

Thank you for joining us here today, Raven McAllan! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

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A Look At Raven McAllan & 'Being Luca's' ~ @RavenMcAllan @evernightpub #rotg

Today we have author Raven McAllan visiting. Welcome!

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

* Well what can I say? I'm growing old disgracefully and loving it.
* Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.
* Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.
* I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I'm often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I'm not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.
* Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.

What book are you going to tell us about today?
* The premise for the book was very limited.
* Using the name Leigh, Monteith, and Corrieri, because my hairdresser asked me to. Apart from that it was up to me. I knew what I wanted to write, but oh boy it wouldn't work for ages. I deleted the first two chapters, started with chapter three as chapter one, and all of a sudden, I wrote, and wrote, and finished a nice—well I hope so—Romance on the Go. Then I got worried that Leigh, the person, might not like Leigh the character. But she loved her, drooled over Luca and wanted to know when it was due to be published. Well I had to explain there was the none too small matter of subbing and getting an acceptance.
* But chair swivel jiggle I got it…
* This is the result…

A look into the story

~ Blurb ~ * What is a marriage without trust?
* When damning newspaper reports point to the seeming infidelity of her husband, Formula One Racing Championship driver Luca Corrieri, Leigh runs without waiting for his explanations.
* After all, the pictures don't lie. He has been cheating on her with her best friend.
* Luca is devastated at the ease with which Leigh abandons what they have. Surely their marriage deserves more, but how do you convince someone of your innocence when they are not prepared to listen?
* When the truth finally comes out, is their love strong enough to save their marriage?
~ Excerpt ~ * He swung a door key in front of her face. "No breaking necessary, cara. You left this in the door. Freudian slip? Or were you waiting for someone else?"
* "Neither." She snatched the key from him and put it in her pocket. "I'm not the one who played away."
* "Will this verbal crucifixion go on for ever?" Luca's voice was flat and unemotional. Only the tic at the corner of his eye showed how affected he was. "I screwed up, I admit it. I said sorry, what more do you want me to do? Bleed?"
* "Well you screwed all right, and I guess it was up. Up into her. Bleeding isn’t enough. I've bled enough for both of us." Leigh bit back a sob. Luca lifted his arm toward her, took one look at her face and let it drop. She could only imagine what he'd seen there. However, if her emotions showed in her expression as usual, it would have been something along the lines of how she was wondering if she could commit murder and get away with it.
* "You cheated, Luca. You defiled what we had. And that bitch crowed about it. In every bloody paper, before you said as much as a dicky bird. Were you hoping to get away with it? Fat chance with Angela, oh I'm your friend Leigh, bloody here's my cunt screw me whatsherface. Two faced bitch." All her thoughts of being open-minded, things aren't always what they seem, had gone from her mind. She was, in the words of her friend's daughter, 'in a mad'. "As for you, couldn't you have kept your cock in your trousers for one weekend? Was that too much to ask? And now I expect you're going to say it was all her doing. That she came on to you, and you were drunk and didn't know what was happening. Men. Think with their dicks." She turned her back on him and very deliberately filled her glass.
* "No, I'm not going to say it was all her doing. It takes two to be f…"
* "Okay I get your drift." Leigh sat back in her chair. "Oh sit down, Luca. Tell me why you're here and then go away. If you want some wine, in a glass and in your throat rather than over you, there are glasses in the cupboard next to the sink. If not speak up and then fuck off. I want to wallow and wonder why I'm so lacking in sexuality my husband needed a whore."
* "You are so wrong, cara. But it's not my story to tell." Luca sighed, nodded and walked into the house. She heard cupboard doors open and close. Why hadn't she just told him to get lost? Taken her key and locked the door behind him?
* Because we've never really talked about it.
* Luca returned to the garden and poured wine into a glass before he sat next to her and swirled the liquid around the vessel.
* "Good legs," he said.
* She laughed, although there wasn't a lot of humor in it.
* "Me or the wine?"
* "Both, although in this case I meant the wine." He stretched his long legs out in front of him, and held his wine glass loosely between thumb and forefinger.
* Leigh looked at him out of the corner of her eye. As ever during the race season there wasn't an ounce of fat on him, only honed and toned muscle. In any other circumstances she would have drooled.
* "Ah well, I had a good teacher." By now Leigh had calmed down. Except for her unruly hormones which made her itch to undo his shirt and run her hands over those impressive abs and … down girl, this is your lying, cheating almost ex here. Or he was until she thought otherwise. The cuss-filled rant had done her good, but worn her out. "Okay, Luca, why are you here?"
* "You're not going to like it," he said in a warning tone. "But I felt I had to warn you."
* Warn her? That sounded ominous. Was there anything worse he could hit her with?
* "Tell me."

Buy Being Luca's here...
Evernight Publishing | Amazon - US | Amazon - UK | BookStrand | All Romance eBooks

Find Raven McAllan here...
Links to Social Sites Here

Thank you for joining us here today, Raven McAllan! It was a pleasure getting to know you and your story.

A Look At Athol Donaldson from 'A Dom's Decision - Athol's Story' ~ @RavenMcAllan @evernightpub #BDSM #Gay

..Today we have Athol Donaldson visiting from the story A Dom's Decision - Athol's Story (Dommisimma book 2). Welcome!

..Athol Donaldson, what would you like to tell readers about yourself?
......I am—was—a twin. Sadly my twin wasn't a nice person. He really thought everyone owed him everything. Hell my parents blamed me for his shortcomings. I was like hello, he's him and I'm me. Two people. This caused more than a shed load of problems, and even split me up from the ones I loved. So not good.
......Yeah, I thought I'd got over it. Boy was I wrong. But hey ho, that's me. I'm big enough and ugly enough to admit to my mistakes. Sort of. Anyway that's another story, or, well, part of this story.
......I live in Scotland, in a village not too far from Glasgow. I'm a psychologist, who works in the city and a BDSM Master, who plays and teaches in the city. Yes before you ask the two do help each other. Oh and I'm gay. That doesn't bother me, but boy did it cause complications.
......We got to where the story begins because some one is shit-stirring, and bringing up old happenings. Sadly it doesn't affect just me, and it makes my blood boil when I see the effect it has on other people.
......Except…well…without it, I would never have gone to Edan, my one true love, and begun to re-explore what we had together, and what, maybe, we could have again…

..Are you happy with the way people perceive you?
......Yeah why not? You can't please all of the people all of the time. shrug or even half of the people half of the time. Edan loves me, other things are going good, so sod those who think I'm weird or half a man or whatever. Horses for courses, or Doms for Doms.

..Is humor important? Why or why not?
......Oh you have to laugh. Lets face it, dangly bits are funny. A naked man isn’t an oil painting. What we do with the dangly bits? Snigger now that's a whole new ball game. Oh sheesh sorry about the double entendres. Blame Edan, he's always teasing me about them, so now I just say them to make him roll his eyes. He does such a good eye roll…
......Seriously though, if you can laugh, think positive thoughts, see the funny side of something it sure makes life a lot better. It puts your mind in a healthier place and makes you less likely to be negative about anything. And if something is out to break you, you bend rather than snap. Oh and it uses more facial muscles in a good way, so the frown lines run away and hide.

..Does your author ever try to take over the story? And how do you deal with it?
......Does she ever, eh Raven? Well she did, and I refused to play. I took my balls home and told her to put a sock in it. So as she says, we er negotiated… (for that read I ignored her) for a few months, and then she decided to listen to me. It was all plain sailing then. I told her the story, and she wrote it.

..What was the best sexual experience you’ve had?
......Hmmm every time with Edan is the best. I love that man. Though we did once go sailing in the med. Making love on the deck under the stars was magical. Then next day, a storm blew up and boy was I sea sick. (well I said it was a storm the captain and Edan say it was a wee bit of a wind…Hmmm…) We've never been sailing again. I now go green looking at the waves on a duckpond. Edan says it was the number of mussels I ate…

..What was the least interesting thing that has ever happened to you? (In bed or out.)
......Sitting in the Gare Du Nord in Paris without any change, and waiting, just waiting for a train. Normally I love railway stations, especially in Paris, but this night was truly boring. Few people, few trains, and no change for the snack machine.

..What’s your take on Linsey, the owner of Dommisimma?
......Linsey? Bless her cotton socks she's a complicated woman. Well all women are, but she takes it to higher levels. Knows who she loves, too bloody stubborn to compromise. She's a fantastic Domme, a great manager, and a loving caring compassionate woman. But shit, she will not give in. One day there's going to be fireworks and I'm going to be there to watch them. and give points for style and execution.

..Where do you see yourself in the future? What do you hope to accomplish?
......With Edan, with all my problems sorted out (ha, that'll be the day, keep a look out for flying pigs). Well all the usual, you know better person, live happily and healthily, travel, write a book… Nah really I want to be with Edan. Just that.

..Now for some author information!
......My author is Raven McAllan. Raven A multi-published author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
......She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

You can find my author, Raven McAllan, here...
Website | Blog | Facebook | Facebook Author Page | Twitter | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads

..Now for some book information!
..A look into the story

~ Blurb ~ ......When is a Dom not a Dom? When it stops him from being with the man he loves…
......Athol Donaldson lost many people in his life, his lover, his family, his twin. The latter loss seems hardly worth morning over. Affric caused nothing but trouble when alive, and now, he seems intent on causing trouble from beyond the grave.
......It forces Athol to seek out the one man he's never forgotten.
......Edan Murdoch has no intention of letting Athol slip through his fingers again. He's lost him once, and as they're forced to pull together to unravel the mystery surrounding the parentage of a teenage girl, their love for each other blossoms.
......Surely, being Doms doesn't mean they can't compromise? Will they be able to work out their differences, and find lasting happiness, or will this blast from the past prove to be their final undoing?
......Be Warned: m/m sex, BDSM
~ Excerpt ~ ......"Fuck first—talk later?" Edan smiled. "Sounds good. So strip. Stretch out on the bed and let's explore again."
......That was jumping in with a vengeance. Was revisiting your first lover like riding a bicycle? Once done never forgotten? He'd soon find out.
......Athol decided it felt strange to have Edan watching him as he undid his zipper and stroked it carefully down the sensitive skin of his prick. Edan's gaze was so intense, Athol's hands shook, as he held the metal away from his body. Foreskin in zip teeth wasn't a good omen.
......"You going to reciprocate?" Athol asked as he inched his jeans and boxers over his cock. The head glistened with pre cum, and Edan's indrawn breath, told him more than words that the sight excited both of them.
......"Who's the, ah fuck it, lets just both ask and receive, eh?" Edan toed off his shoes and undid his belt buckle in a hurry. "Last one naked loses the next decision."
......Athol laughed as his shoes caught in his jeans as he tried to remove the clothes and not the footwear. It wasn’t possible, so with a quick check of where Edan stood, he grinned and pushed Edan. Edan whooped and fell onto the bed with his denims around his ankles. He waved his legs in the air.
......"Cheat."
......"Yeah." Athol jumped and landed on the bed next to Edan. He rolled over and grabbed Edan to hold him close, and thrust his tongue in between Edan's parted lips.

Buy A Dom's Decision - Athol's Story (Dommisimma book 2) here...
Evernight Publishing | Amazon | All Romance eBooks | BookStrand

Thank you for joining us here today, Athol Donaldson! It was a pleasure getting to know about you, the story you're in, and your author.

A Look At Maggie Lowther from 'Peregrine's Prize' ( @RavenMcAllan @evernightpub #erom #regency )

..Today we have Maggie Lowther visiting from the story Peregrine's Prize. Welcome!

..Maggie Lowther, what would you like to tell readers about yourself?
......* I live in Regency times, which let me assure you is not as carefree and fun loving as a lot of people think.
......* I've loved Peregrine Gretton, Lord Corby, for many a long year, and him me. However, due to his employment, both disclosed and secret, for his Majesty's government, my life was threatened. This worried Perry to such a degree, I was forced to leave him and move to Rutlandshire, where I became the housekeeper to his brother. I never knew how satisfying it is to see a dresser full of clean starched linens until I was forced to move here.
......* Luckily, Nash's wife is a cousin of mine, and my housekeeping duties are not arduous. However, let me say I have every respect for those ladies who are 'proper' housekeepers. There's so much to remember.
......* Meanwhile, although I'm enjoying my sojourn in the country, the slither of fear I have grows ever larger whilst my dearest Peregrine is in danger.

..Are you happy with the way people perceive you?
......* *Shrug* I think so. It's difficult to translate some of the things people on the twenty-first century say, but yes, I think so. I live my life as best I can in my circumstances, and do as I have to. It may not always be the proper way to do things, but even though I'm a lady, I've never presumed to be 'proper'.

..Is humor important? Why or why not?
......* Humor is more than important, it is necessary to live a balanced life. For myself, I live in times that are hard at times. We still have the specter of Napoleon and his supporters hanging over us, and the Regency is not always an easy thing to live under. You have to have humor to enliven things, and to give light release from the humdrum. Luckily Nash has hounds, which can do the most unexpected things at times, (don't tell Andre the chef about the sausages). Perry contrary to what most people think has a wicked and well-developed sense of humor. He just has to be selective about where and when he shows it. His sobriquet of Prosy Perry is not deserved, but as he says, it serves him well. *Shrug.* If it keeps him safe, then I am all for it. After all I see the lighter, loving side of him.

..If you could pull your author into your world, what do you think would happen to them?
......* She would ask too many questions, query everything, and no doubt be ill. (She can not eat Gluten, and flour is Andre's friend.) Things we take for granted (The chamber pot in the cupboard, for instance) may well horrify her. But that which is called progress, is something we all have to accept. Things my mama told me about make me shiver!

..What was the best sexual experience you’ve had?
......* *Snigger* well, that's hard. Every sexual experience with Perry, (who I must add has been, and will be, my only lover) is exquisite. Mind you the first time he showed me just how creative he can be with a candle springs to mind! Lately, as we've been separated, I'd say any one we can manage.

..What was the least interesting thing that has ever happened to you? (In bed or out.)
......* It must have been so uninteresting, I can't remember.

..What’s your take on Gussie Gravesend?
......* Poor Gussie. She was always weak and shallow, and her head easily turned by wealth or the promise of something others didn't have. (Or they did and she coveted.) However, never did I think she would become a traitor. Perhaps if her father hadn't been so greedy…no, sadly I think greed and jealousy is embedded in her. Gravesend pandered to it; he was as bad. They both only saw a way to make money for themselves. Either they didn't see, or chose not to, how they were traitors to their country, and sent many a loyal servant of the crown to an unpleasant death by their actions.

..Now for some author information!
......* My author is Raven McAllan. A multi-published author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
......* She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

..You can find my author, Raven McAllan, here...
......Website | Blog | Facebook | Author Page Facebook | Twitter

..Now for some book information!
..A look into the story

..~ Blurb ~ ......* They called him Prosy Perry.
......* Anyone who really knew him—like Maggie did—understood that was a façade to protect his secrets.
......* When danger threatened his family, and his lover, he dropped the role and the real Peregrine emerged.
......* Now all he had to do was unmask the traitor and live happily ever after.
......* Was it going to happen or was he destined to be alone again? ..~ Excerpt ~ ......* "You're supposed to rest," she said breathlessly, and bit her lip to stop herself moaning in pleasure. One finger stroked the cleft that separated her buttocks, sliding the silk of her gown up and down and creating perfect tingles and shivers.
......* "We can rest together. What if I need someone?" His voice was low and teasing. "I might, get out of bed and become disorientated. I might, oh have nightmares and need someone to cuddle me, and shoo the dragons away." Maggie sighed. It was so long since she'd seen this loving playful side of Perry. It showed rarely as he struggled with keeping his family together, and trying to uncover the spy ring that threatened their beloved country.
......* "You might not," she said prosaically. "I will only be across the hall if you call out."
......* "Not good enough. I might need my…" He paused and winked. "My hurts stroked away."
......* His cock twitched under her, as if to remind Maggie that was a part of his body that loved to be stroked, and she was always happy to oblige. She giggled and wriggled against him as best she could. His hand tightened and he laughed.
......* "I may have forgotten you, but my cock hasn't, it seems. So Maggie-mine, will you rest with me? Please?"
......* The hangdog, hopeful look was her undoing. This was the private lover of past times. The one she often worried she would never see again. "If you let me up, then I'll move into bed with you." Once more he slid the material he held along the cleft of her arse, and then she was loose. "Naked." It was a command not a request. "Flesh to flesh. Breast to breast."

..Buy Peregrine's Prize here...
......Evernight Publishing | Amazon | All Romance eBooks | BookStrand

..Thank you for joining us here today, Maggie Lowther! It was a pleasure getting to know about you, the story you're in, and your author.