Being Luca's Raven
McAllan
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…
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?
Here's a wee tease…
She lay there in that
pleasant state halfway between awake and asleep and relaxed.
The heavy hand on her
shoulder made her scream, shoot up out of her chair, and turn around in a move
to do any prima ballerina proud. Red wine went in every direction, except
luckily, on her.
The guy who stood behind
her chair didn't fare so well. With red wine dripping from his hair onto his
face, and from his chin onto what seemed like a very costly silk shirt, he
looked a mess. Even his expensive-looking trousers hadn't got off scot-free.
The expression made
Leigh want to giggle—after all she was a Scot— although the guy standing there
with a face like frost didn't.
"What a way to
greet me, cara. Are you still feeling
so pissy? After all you got what you wanted."
Leigh saw red and it
wasn't just the spilled wine. All her introspective thoughts about being narrow
minded flew out of her mind.
"Asshole. Fucking
asshole. No, you got what you wanted.
Your dick in that marriage wrecking groupie's cunt. What I wanted was your
bollocks in a vise. And her clit to shrivel and her channel to shrink."
She couldn't believe
the profanities that spewed out of her. Leigh always prided herself on not
swearing, because as her mother had often said, it showed a lack of imagination
and vocabulary. Right then she couldn't have cared less if it made her
illiterate. The words fitted.
He reddened, took out
a linen handkerchief, and wiped his face without saying a word.
Leigh was on a roll. In
some perverse way she was enjoying herself. It was cathartic, saying just how
she felt, to his face. "I hope you got yourself checked out, Luca? After
all who knows who was in that pussy before you? Did you check the hair for
nits? Oh no I forgot, she's probably one who dares to bare." She didn’t
mention that since she and Luca had separated she'd tried that, liked it, and
never gone back to hairy. "Best way really, less to catch anything
in."
"You know
nothing." He barked the words, looked around and then dropped the sodden
handkerchief onto the table. "That's enough."
Leigh ignored him. "Not by a long chalk
Signor Corrieri. Why are you here? How did you get in? Added breaking and
entering to your list of transgressions now, have we?"
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."
Being Luca's is
available to be downloaded to an eReader near you from…
Meet Raven McAllen
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
