Welcome to the lovely @RavenMcAllan with #historical #erotic romance 'Lord Suitor' from @EvernightPub

Thank you for inviting me onto your blog.

I consider myself very lucky.

I write what I love, Evernight publish it, and people buy it and (hopefully) read it.

What more can I ask for?

I couldn't not write and I especially love to write Regency Romance. And oh yes, Evernight lets me.

So we have the Cursed Treasure series.

A family whose fortune is cursed

A family whose fortune is almost gone, and have to manage very carefully.

A family whose grown up children decide to ignore the curse and make their fortune grow once more. They don't want to be a burden.

Strangely ( or not) this isn't a paranormal story. Only the treasure is said to be cursed.

As the parchment with it says…

The heart of ye child be lifting the curse—dare ye risk it…

(the prequel, Compromised, tells how Mijo escapes from France with the treasure, it's a free read.)

 www.evernightpublishing.com/compromised-by-raven-mcallan/

Lord Suitor is Tessa's story

A smuggler and an aristocrat. Who should Tessa chose?

Both professed their love for her, both intrigued her. How could she pick one over the other?

When Tessa was accosted by a smuggler her life took a turn for the better. Or so she thought. Until Nathaniel, Lord Fenniston indicated his interest in her. She had to marry to help her family, but her loyalties are torn. 

Either man could be the one, but how can she decide? Torn between them, Tessa must think hard and fast.

Luckily, fate has it’s own way of deciding, and Tessa had no option but to do as it dictates.

A wee tease…

Her one night of bliss, her initiation, as she thought of it, had given her a very definite opinion of what she wanted, expected, from any marriage. However, and there was the rub, how could she say to someone, I’ll only marry you if you satisfy me in the way my smuggler did? You need to make my skin tingle, my insides quiver, and my body react in a way I never thought possible, so I shout and scream my release and beg you for more? Oh and your body, when it gains its own satisfaction inside me, has to react in the same way? It was not something she could introduce into everyday conversation. It wasn't something most men would appreciate hearing. Men were such touchy creatures they wouldn't see it as a compliment on their prowess, just the opposite.

Tessa stirred uneasily in her chair. During those long hours of enforced darkness, her highwayman had taught her some very interesting ways to satisfy herself. After the first few fumbling—and embarrassed at her temerity—attempts, she was happy with how to touch and tease herself until she was panting and sated. However, it wasn't the same. It is not him.

Tonight though, she knew nothing she did would ease the ache deep inside her. The unexpected offer from Lord Fenniston had thrown her somewhat.

Why her? Oh, they were neighbors in Devon, but he had never shown any interest in her. In fact she hadn't noticed him singling her out in any way, exactly the opposite. One occasional country dance did not show a partiality for anyone. They'd never waltzed, he'd never asked for her hand into supper, and never solicited her company at a picnic or to the theater. No, if anything, she would have thought he preferred Lady Elizabeth Cantor or Frederica Stowe. Nor did Tessa think he chose to spend time with those ladies as a smokescreen for his desire to have her as a wife. They were both too much all woman for that, and she was well aware neither would put up with such cavalier behavior.

Nor would I.

Somehow, Tessa accepted, as she stirred the glowing coals back into flames, Nathaniel Fenniston was not the sort of man to dissemble in that way. It wouldn't be kind to either lady, and she didn't think he would ever be deliberately unkind. No, he was an honorable man, but did that mean he was the man for her? Somehow, she needed to find out. On that sobering and complicated thought, she put the fireguard in place and took herself to bed.

Yet again she dreamed of her smuggler. She felt his hands on her as he showed her how to please both him and herself. Heard his voice as he praised her efforts and moaned his appreciation. Recalled and recreated in her dreams how his body stiffened and he shouted out his completion as he spilled onto her skin. Shivered and writhed as his lips met her quim and sucked on the soft flesh there and then drew the hard nub into his mouth. She gasped as her juices gathered, ready to help her fall over the edge of sanity and reason.

Tessa woke with a gasp to see the thin light of dawn creep around her curtains, and to feel the warmth and dampness of her arousal slick her skin. Her body tingled with awareness. Should she?

A quick glance at the timepiece on the mantel told her she had time enough to assuage her needs.

Tessa stretched out to fumble in her nearby sewing basket, to retrieve something she had secreted there.

A few days after her encounter with the smuggler she'd found a package in her bedside cabinet. She had no idea where it had come from, or who had placed it where she would see it so readily. The outside wrapper merely had her name on, and the cryptic message "for your eyes only."

Puzzled she ripped the paper and unwrapped the fine lawn material that covered the contents. It was a smooth, wooden darning mushroom, with a note attached to it.

When she read the words, Tessa didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Inscribed in a very elegant hand it said: Close your eyes and run your fingers over this. Now imagine what it feels like and use it accordingly until we meet again.

Intrigued, Tessa had done as directed and discovered it was the perfect facsimile of a male staff. "Pego" her smuggler had called it as he taught her how to fondle and taste. At first she'd held it and stroked it, until her mind played games on her. A few nights later, her dreams included him, his pego, and his hands showing her how indeed a humble darning mushroom was the perfect substitute for a man. No, not perfect, she amended, adequate.

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/lord-suitor-by-raven-mcallan/

http://www.amazon.com/Lord-Suitor-Cursed-Treasure-Book-ebook/dp/B013JE0MY2http://www.amazon.co.uk/Lord-Suitor-Cursed-Treasure-Book-ebook/dp/B013JE0MY2

you can find me at www.ravenmcallan.com

Happy Reading

Love  R x

From @RavenMcAllan and @EvernightPub her hot new release, The Contract'

Living in Scotland where summer can be one day in May, and the midges rule from June to September, give me somewhere warm any day. After all mozzies respond to repellent, I swear midges thumb their noses up at it.

I love to travel, and I like setting my books in places I know, so I guess it was inevitable that as I sat by a pool in Barbados I got the idea for this book. (Lot’s of ‘I’s’ in there, ooops, sorry.)

Hubby got used to me saying, stop the car while I take a photo, as we drove around, and then scribbling in a notebook, things I didn’t want to forget.

The upshot, is The Contract, now released by Evernight Publishing.

Blurb…

Walking out of her job was the best thing Nikki Plummer ever did. What she didn’t expect however, was to be tracked down by some hot bod, claiming she owed him.

Ruari Cameron has come to collect what he has paid for, but one look at Nikki, and there’s only one thing he wants. Her in every facet of his life.

Of course convincing Nikki of this might take some doing…but he’s more than ready to rise to the occasion.

Will they find their happy ever after under the Barbados sun?

 This is how she got there…

(a wee tease)

“Plum.”

“Go away, I’m not listening.” Nikki Plummer, often called Plum and she hated it, finished emptying her head-high cupboard and slammed the door—hard. Her boss moved back in a hurry to avoid her toes, knees, designer shoes, and anything else in the vicinity being pinched between the door and the jamb. Her numerous bracelets jangled as she did so, and seemed to add their displeasure to the wearer’s.

“Plum, don’t be silly, it was a mistake.”

There it was again. Did the stupid woman have no sense whatsoever? Plum was for signing her work, nothing else. Sheesh, she’d told everyone often enough, and most people accepted it.

Not this one.

The noise of a stiletto tapping impatiently on the parquet flooring only firmed Nikki’s mind up. Her boss could go to hell. The hard way. On her Manolos.

“No.” No to whatever you want. It’s over.

“You’re overreacting, like I said it’s all a silly mistake.” There was a definite note of panic in the voice now. “Plum, stop it and listen to me.”

Yeah, yours you bitch.

“No one called Plum around here.” Nikki checked her desk drawer. She removed three pens, a diary, and her hot as Hades red lipstick and threw them in her kitchen sink-sized bag. Satisfied there was nothing more lurking in a corner, she grabbed her sprint from the underground—fondly known as The Clockwork Orange—ballet flats and stood up.Anything else? Not that she wanted or needed anyway. The rest of the stuff came with the job and could stay with it.

The feeling, the glorious feeling of liberation kicked in. Nikki zipped her bag and put on her jacket.

“Nikki, for god’s sake stop this nonsense.” The voice rose to a screech just one notch short of shattering glass. The panic in it was evident. “Stop being a drama queen and vying for notice.” The other five or six people in the office gave up their pretense of not earwigging and listened openly.

Nikki winced at the shrill tone. “No one could ever even think of vying for attention, Geraldine, in here,” she said calmly, knowing her even note and lack of concern would infuriate the other woman. “Yours or anyone else’s. You command the field in that respect, even down to your own attention, weird though it sounds. Luckily I neither want nor need it. Not now. You fired me, I’m out of here.”

Geraldine Butters stared at her. “I was joking.”

At the back of the room someone coughed, ‘bullshit’.

“You should know I didn’t mean what I said. It was said in jest.” Now the voice was full of panic. “Take off your jacket, put down your bag and get on with that project. I need it by the end of the month. Only you can do it.”

Now we’re getting to the crux of the matter. The project, whatever it is and your lack of ability. Well tough. Too bad, that’s one joke that misfired on you then.

“Don’t care, too late, goodbye.”

“You little bitch, you’ll pay for this. I gave you a job, I sorted your mess…”

That was the last straw. Nikki picked up the waste paper basket, full of sweet wrappers, old take away coffee cups as well as torn bits of paper, old train tickets, and all the detritus of a busy office and upended it over Geraldine’s head.

http://www.amazon.com/Contract-Romance-Go-Raven-McAllan-ebook/dp/B00Y1ZDLN8

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-contract-by-raven-mcallan

A multi-published, best selling author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband, in a house much too big for them—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.

http://www.ravenmcallan.com

http:/ /www.ravenmcallan.blogspot.com

https://www.facebook.com/rmcallan        (my page)

https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallan            (author page)

https://twitter.com/RavenMcAllan

http://www.amazon.com/Raven-McAllan/e/B00694RHJI/

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Raven-McAllan/e/B00694RHJI/

Raven McAllen drops by the blog with her new #Evernight release 'Being Luca's' #eroticromance #marriage

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…

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/being-lucas-by-raven-mcallan/

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Being-Lucas-Romance-Raven-McAllan-ebook/dp/B00LUCO8E6

http://www.amazon.com/Being-Lucas-Romance-Raven-McAllan-ebook/dp/B00LUCO8E6

http://www.bookstrand.com/being-lucas-mf

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-beingluca039s-1571101-149.html

you can stalk me on www.ravenmcallan.com where all my sites are noted

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

A Dom's Decision as Raven McAllen drops by with her new Evernight Publishing release, #manlove #MM erotic romance

Thank you so much for letting me pop over with my latest release,

 A Dom's Decision.

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.

Eden 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?

That's the premise of A Dom's Decision, also known as Athol's Story and book two in the Dommisimma Series. Well okay The Girl on Bus mentions Dommisimma, but it's not really a proper part of the series. This is.

It's one of those things, when a secondary character in a book shouts at you, Waves a flag and says, hey, I'm here and boy do I have a story to tell you.

Athol was like that, when he pops up in Master. (Also from Evernight Publishing) I'm sure he didn't mean to, but he stole nearly every scene he was in. And people asked me, 'When can we have Athol's story?'.

Well Athol has very definite ideas about what I should write. I started, he went shtum on me so I got stuck. So I put the story to one side and worked on other stuff. You see I'm very character driven, and he didn't like the way the story was going, so stopped talking to me.

Then one day several months later, I woke up with him shouting in my head, and wrote the next 25k in just over a week. He spoke I listened…I wrote, he approved. Thus A Dom's Decision, Athol's Story was finished.

Well it wasn't that easy but you get the gist…

Anyway, here's a wee tease from Athol's Story…

Athol couldn't believe the rush of adrenalin that coursed through him. Every nerve end tingled. To know they just might be getting somewhere was so exhilarating, that one swipe of Edan's tongue anywhere on his body would make him come. Slight exaggeration, but not much. He swallowed and cleared his throat.

"Well we could do, but then seeing as I came up with the idea, do you want to go first?"

"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.

This kiss was different. As Edan's male, musky, scent surrounded him Athol knew tears were close. He'd missed this man as if a limb had been severed. His man his other half, was finally here with him.

But for how long? Athol pushed the thought away and concentrated on using his tongue to touch the inside of Edan's lips, and then stroke over the roof of Edan's mouth.

 Edan responded in an equally aggressive manner. His teeth grazed Athol's tongue and his lips sucked the flesh. Athol scrabbled for the waistband of Edan's half removed denims and shoved for all his worth, to get them away from Edan's body. In the back of his mind, he noticed Edan performed the same act with his, Athol's, jeans. How they managed without unlocking their lips Athol had no idea, and didn't care. All he desired was Edan naked and next to him.

Edan moved back, and the tiny few inches felt like the Grand Canyon with a force-eight gale to Athol.

"Shit, Ede, I need to feel you somehow. Make your mind up, for fuck's sake. What's going to happen next?" With a tremendous effort, Athol managed to shuck his shoes and jeans, thankful for the urge he'd had to go commando that morning.

"Bratty Dom." Edan gasped the words as his fingers fumbled with the hem of Athol's T-shirt. "Fuck, what's this stuck on?" He held Athol's T-shirt away from his torso.

"Hold on." Athol inched the material up and over his nipples. Edan's moan sent his cock into overdrive and his heart thudding. "Ah, you like?"

"Oh, I like." Edan ran his finger over the silver ring through Athol's right nipple. "How long have you had this?" He dipped his head and Athol about exploded as Edan circled the ring with his tongue and then tugged gently on it.

"Sh … er god, three, four, ah fuck, enough already. Let's do more. Condoms?"

"Con … Fuck, shit, and bollocks." Edan rolled onto his back and groaned.  His dick stood up long, hard and slicked with his pre-cum. "No, I've been celibate for so long they'd have shriveled up. You?"

Athol echoed the groan, and laughed softly. What he really wanted to do was cry and rail. Talk about serendipity—not. Was this his punishment for what happened all those years ago? Why on earth would he have thought he'd need rubbers? He'd been more concerned he might need a box to protect himself from a kick or a punch. "Don't talk daft. I'd forgotten what one looks like. Shit. Ah, well. Sixty-nine always was my favorite number. We're clean, and I trust you."

"And back." Edan shuffled round until his head nestled so close to Athol's cock Athol could feel his breath as it fanned over his heated skin. Athol grabbed Edan's ass and pulled him closer so he could put his lips on Edan's prick and give tiny little kisses along the length until he laved the head. With a mental sigh of pleasure, Athol pulled Edan's cock into his mouth and swirled his tongue over it. He enjoyed the salty taste, inhaled the musky male scent, and reveled in the moans and sighs Edan made.

A tug on his own cock sent his heat beat racing, and his skin pricked with arousal. He closed his eyes to let himself sink deeper into those beautiful sensations. It was nigh on impossible to groan with pleasure with a mouth full of wet cock, but Athol knew his shudder of pleasure reverberated into Edan. He nuzzled his head further into Edan's groin and grasped his ass even tighter. Edan reciprocated and together they began the nips and sucks of loving each other.

It wouldn't last long. He wouldn't last long. Athol had no illusions that he wouldn't be able to stave his climax off. Nor did he want to. The climbing emotion, the increasing heat, the shuddering, juddering emotions, and taut skin, embraced him, and he let them flow through him.

Available from http://www.evernightpublishing.com/a-doms-decision-by-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.

http://www.ravenmcallan.com

http:/ /www.ravenmcallan.blogspot.com

https://www.facebook.com/rmcallan        (my page)

https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallan            (author page)

https://twitter.com/RavenMcAllan

Happy Reading,

Love  R x

Welcome to guest author Raven McAllan who tells us what she likes in a hero

What do I like in a hero?

Apart from strong? Romantic (closet or not)? Hot? Relatable? Decisive? A sense of Humor?

Well all of those. But most of all believable.

What makes a hero believable? I could say all of the above, but that's a given for me. (You might think differently, and that's fine, it's good we don't all think alike.)

I guess I go for dark hair, long hair, dark eyes and not too body builder-y type heroes. Are all my heroes like that? Well I do try not to make them, but ohh my it's hard. They wink and I write.

I notice there has to be a bit of my own special hero in everything I write. Stubbornness, a sense of humor(even though a lot of people don't get it or see it), and a romantic (albeit well hidden). I don't write in his bald head, but I do at time use a mental picture of him in his twenties. Tall with long dark curly hair, dark eyes and a perfect ass. That's about as far as it goes though. I'll give you the basics you fill in the rest. Then my hero is your hero.

Tay my hero in The Girl on the Bus, is all of the above. And a Dom. One who is about to change a lot of his life, and perhaps bring back what's been missing.

Here's the blurb…

Julia ran out on Tay five years ago, so she cannot be the face he sees on the bus. However, when she ends up being the one taking notes at his meeting, he knows he will move heaven and earth to make her his once more.

Will she agree, or will she run again?

And a wee tease. (We'll keep with the Scottish wordage)

"She's Silver, and she's my sub. Aren’t you, pet?"

Tay put his hand onto Julia's shoulder as she went grey and swayed. He'd heard the interaction between her and her Belle and sighed. Belle did her best, but he'd known it wasn't going to be easy.

When he noticed them both come in, he'd almost done the clichéd rub the eyes thing, or pinched himself. He should have realized she hadn't come of her own accord. Tay had a friend in the know, a valued and respected Master who promised that if a sub called Silver, or anyone with her coloring popped up, he'd have known about it. Tay doubted whether his friend would ever have passed her whereabouts on to him. That would break client confidentiality. However at least he'd have something to go on.

To Tay's initial horror, Julia shuddered under his touch, but Tay was experienced enough to know after the first split second it wasn't with revulsion. He tightened his grip, just a little bit, and Julia moaned.

"Silver?" He prompted her, and the glowering look she sent him made him chuckle. "Bratty sub, pet. So not on. Now I suggest we let your friend go in and get a seat, and we talk."

"I suggest not."

Yes, bratty all right. He flicked his head in the universal get lost motion to Belle, who nodded and followed Linsey toward a door at the back of the hall. He bent his head to Julia's ear, and felt her soft breath feather over his skin as he moved toward her. She smelled of citrus and spring.

"You and I need to talk, pet. We owe each other that. Now do you come inside and watch my demo and give me your word you won't run, or do I get someone to guard dog you?"

Tay wasn't fanciful, but it seemed even the air waited for her answer. He was under no illusions he could hold her if she wanted to go, but he hoped she'd stay. Just as he decided to give up, Julia gave a shuddering sigh and nodded.

"Yes, Sir." Ye bloody ha. Sir no less. He was careful not to let his exultation show. "Then come with me." He didn't wait to see if she followed, but turned and walked toward the doorway Belle and Linsey went through.

Just before they disappeared, he did turn, and his heart—and his cock—swelled as Julia followed with her head bent, and then stopped in front of him.

"Sir?" Her voice hitched and her shoulders heaved.

"Yes, pet?" Tay lifted her chin up, and his heart missed a beat as he saw the shimmer of sadness in her eyes. "Why the tears?"

Julia swiped at her face and he took hold of both her hands.

"Tell me, pet." She didn't resist his hold, moving toward him before she straightened and looked him in the eyes. "I missed you. All this time, I wondered what if. My reactions to what we did scared me senseless so I left. I was a coward, and I still am."

That was being open and honest with a vengeance.

He held both her hands in one of his and massaged her shoulders with the other. The knots he felt would need a sports masseur to dislodge them. Or a good spanking session.

"Do I call you Silver or Julia?" He kept his voice soft and level, as if he soothed a puppy—or a new and nervous sub. Not very dominant or commanding, but she trembled like a sapling in a strong wind, and Tay reckoned she was ready to run—or faint. In truth he had no idea what she'd experienced other than with him. Nothing I hope. The fierceness of that thought startled him.

"Well, pet?"

Julia moved a step back and he let her, although he didn't take his gaze off her face. She'd regained her color now, and ran her tongue around her lips before her throat rippled as she swallowed deeply.

"Silver, please, Sir. Except—" She bit her lip.

'That deserves a spanking," Tay said and watched a fresh rush of color flood her body. "No marking except by me. So you were saying?"

"Yes, Sir, please call me Silver, and I'm ready to go inside. And except, what are you demonstrating?"

"Guess." Tay took her hand and tugged. She tripped toward him and hit his chest with a thud. Her nipples puckered at the contact and stood out against her thin top. As ever his cock responded to her closeness. Tay could only be thankful his zipper appeared sturdy.

Silver's hands snaked around his neck. In spite of himself, Tay's lips twitched. Bratty sub indeed. Would he get the chance to make her his bratty sub once more?

"Sir? Are you demonstrating wax play?"

"Sub, are you showing me proper respect?"

Her hands fell like stones, and to his delight, and amazement, she dropped to her knees and assumed the position. There in the hallway where anyone could see.

"Sorry, Sir. But are you?"

Okay, still a bratty sub.

"Why? Are you volunteering to be my sub for the demonstration?"

"Yes, Sir."

*****

The Girl on the Bus can be found at an eBookstop near you.

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-girl-on-the-bus-by-raven-mcallan/

http://www.amazon.com/The-Girl-Bus-Romance-ebook/dp/B00FS0SA86/

http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Girl-Bus-Romance-ebook/dp/B00FS0SA86

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thegirlonthebus-1317043-147.html

http://www.bookstrand.com/the-girl-on-the-bus-mf

 and check out Raven on http://www.ravenmcallan.com

Happy Reading. Love R x