Hello, lovely peeps. I have a special little regency treat for you today, guaranteed to make your weekend. I love all of Raven's work, but there is a special little place in my heart for her Regency work, and this series in partiular. So, I twisted her arm a little, bribed and cajoled, and here she is.
Take it away, Raven!
****
When I mentioned to Doris that I
was writing a new Miss Simpkins' School for Seduction story, she did a weird
dance around the room, and promised me grandson cuddles if I got on with it so
she could 'redit' it. (For those of you who are going eh? A wee explanation.
I'm honorary Granny to her youngest, and we go through each other's M/s before
we sub them, and red pen—type—them. hence redit… okay yeah, well it works for
us.) snort
I
didn't need the cuddle incentive, but I took it anyway. Who wouldn't? Sticky,
lovely, hugs and kisses from my boy… Yum!
So I
sent her the first wee bit.
She
said she loved it.
Then
she nagged. Believe me, in the nagging stakes, she's a winner. Not that I
needed it mind you. I so enjoy writing this series, and ohh (insert swooning noises
here) Luke De Freitas is hawt…
Doris
agreed when I showed her his description.
Dark
hair, dark eyes and a washboard stomach…
I mean…
I could all but see him sitting into my study next to me as I typed, telling me
what was about to happen in 'his' book. He had more than a few run ins with me
and Molly, over his attitude shall we say…
Not
that Jane agreed all the time either. She's not the shy retiring widow people
think. But she does have a problem…
Here's
the blurb…
Take one virginal widow, add Molly
Simpkins School of Seduction and one obliging gentleman, and what do you get?
Scandal avoided and a virgin no more?
Molly Simpkins' School for
Seduction has helped many ladies of the ton to achieve their hearts desires, so
helping Lady Jane Nicholby ought to be easy.
However this young widow's deep,
dark secret means she can never remarry for fear of the scandal it would cause.
Widows are not supposed to be virgins, after all.
Fortunately, Molly knows just the
person to help her change this state of affairs. Persuading Luke De Freitas to
fall in with her plans, however, will require all of her considerable skill.
A spot of blackmail should do the
trick quite nicely…
Snigger
See? I had so much fun with these
two. Well let's be honest, like I said I'm having so much fun with the whole
series. Molly's story will be out next month, and then all five stories so far
will be out in a paperback in August as well. Great stuff.
Any I reckon I'll give away a
copy of Flora, Lydia, or Miranda to someone who comments and tells me what name
they'd like me to use—male or female—in one of the next set of stories. (bear
in mind it's Regency, so it needs to fit.)
And to get you into the fight
frame of mind, here's a teaser…
(Luke is bored…and talking to his
dog…)
He was almost in luck. Nursing a swollen jaw with a
glass of brandy, which he decided was surely acceptable after the last few
hours he’d had, Luke once more spoke to Bet. “Damned if it wasn’t worth this.”
He gestured to his jaw. “I might have been taken for a fool, but not an
incapacitated one. Rushton will be walking with a limp and a wince for a while
now. How dare she?”
Bet snuffled.
“Yes, well, I could almost accept she’d taken another
lover, but not in the house I paid for. Anyway it’s over and the house goes on
the market tomorrow.”
He’d taken great pleasure in bundling a naked Lady
Matcham, and an equally naked Rushton onto the pavement surrounded by her
dresses and furbelows. She’d cried, Rushton had cursed, and
Luke had laughed. That was
when a wild swing by Rushton had resulted in Luke’s sore jaw and Rushton’s
aching balls.
Luke experienced so much enjoyment at the sight of
Alicia Matcham trying to cover herself from the prying eyes of three potboys
and the Watch that he failed to retaliate. In truth, he decided seeing
Rushton’s swaying bits and bobs shrivel in the unseasonably chill evening air
was enough punishment for the man. The nicely timed kick Luke gave him was the
icing on the cake.
He had to hope no news of the fracas got back to his
father, or indeed any member of the ton. Luckily, the house he’d purchased for
his mistress and himself to enjoy their liaison wasn’t in the most fashionable
area of town, and the contretemps had occurred when the ton was thin on the
ground. Those who were in the capital were already out at their evening
activities. Luke was more than glad he hadn’t bowed to Alicia’s pressure and
purchased a dwelling in a fashionable square. With luck, all that would be
known was he no longer had a mistress. He made a note to let it be put about he
didn’t want another one. It was time for something deeper and more meaningful.
Heaven help it, maybe time for a wife? He shuddered. Please, god no. Not
when the one person he could have married would probably never speak to him
again.
The sound of the knocker reverberated through the
house, and Luke frowned. Who on earth would be calling at—he checked the clock
that ticked away on the mantle—just shy of eleven at night? Most people would
be at a ball, or in bed, even if it weren’t their own. He heard the measured
tread of Cuthberts, his major domo, cross the hall and felt a pang of
contrition. It seemed wrong that Cuthberts had to come upstairs from his own
quarters, when Luke had dismissed him for the night. However, it would be
useless to say so. Cuthberts had very rigid ideas regarding propriety, and Luke
answering the door came nowhere near them. It was no surprise, therefore, when
a few moments later there was a discrete knock on the study door. Bet stirred
and woofed as she got to her feet, all guard dog. Heavens knew she’d probably
lick an intruder to death.
Cuthberts put his head around the door. “Your face
looks worse now, my lord,” he said in his usually punctilious manner. “And
there is a lady to see you. A Miss Simpkins.”
“Molly?” Good lord had the news of his evening reached
her already? “Show her in.”
Cuthberts disappeared to return a few seconds later to
usher a very elegant Molly in. She turned full circle as Cuthberts bowed and
left the room, and finally brought her gaze back to Luke.
“And how is the other man? Dead?”
He laughed. “He’s fine. He just can’t walk without a
wince and looks like he’s second cousin to a newly made eunuch. Enough that if
he can sing he’ll make Marchesi jealous at any rate.”
“Hmm. You are an idiot, Luke. I’d heard you’d turned a
new leaf and were bored of mischief.”
“I am,” Luke said in a protesting voice. “But what
would you have me do, if I find my mistress sharing her favors with another in
my house? Step back and say ‘oh please continue and enjoy my hospitality both
of you’? I think not.”
“No,” Molly agreed with him. “Oh dear. So this is the
result?” She gestured at his face. “To be honest, I had thought you ended the
arrangement with Lady Matcham weeks ago. She seemed to intimate it was so.”
“That says it all,” Luke replied and grimaced as the
throb in his jaw increased. “She just failed to tell me. I was cuckolded well
and truly.”
“Then she is the fool not you,” Molly said. “That, I
think, may well work in my favor. If your cock and balls are in full working
order?”
Luke howled with laughter, and winced as pain shot
through his prick and into the rest of his body. Shaking wasn’t the way to go.
“I don’t know. I have had no chance to try them out. Are you offering to help
me?” He raised one eyebrow cautiously. As it gave him no extra pain, he
followed it with a wink.
Molly stared at him. “In a way.”
Luke knew fine his jaw dropped, because it hurt like
hades. It was Molly’s turn to laugh.
“Not personally, but I do have a proposition for you.”
He sat up in his chair. “What sort of proposition? I
distrust that look Molly. What are you up to?”
“Very little other than running my school, and
standing godmama to the Addersley twins. However, I have a student, for want of
a better word, who must lose her virginity, and learn all the little nuances of
good sex. Therefore she needs an expert. I thought of you.”
Luke wondered just what Molly had eaten in her dinner.
Surely no one served opiates as a side dish?
“Molly, I don’t deflower virgins.” Not even when I
had the chance. “Never have, never will, unless—god forbid—I marry.”
“Oh, I think you might this time, and you’ll be glad
you did, especially when, after you agree, I tell you who she is.”
“No.” He may be cutting off his nose to spite his
face, and wonder just who Molly thought he would be eager to despoil, but he
had ethics. Or did he? His nosiness got the better of him. “Who?”
“Not unless I have your word you’ll do it.”
“Hell, Molly, she could look like the back end of a
farmer’s nag and have a voice like Maria Moorcroft. It would deflate my cock
faster than you could say quim. If I could get it up in the first place.”
“After, and remember just what I know about you.
Duels, smuggling.... Need I go on?”
“Threats and blackmail, Molly?” He rose to tower over
her. Instead of being intimidated, she stood next to him and ran her finger
over his reddened and swollen skin, scraping her nails just enough to make him
wince.
“No threats or blackmail, Luke. Just good, honest
promises. I’ll see myself out. Oh, and you have twenty four hours to tell me
what arrangements you’ve made.”
She left the room. Luke watched the door close slowly
behind her. Maybe his ethics were not as solid as he thought. He proceeded to
empty the brandy bottle.
After one half hearted yelp, Bet hid under the table.
***
That's Luke's dilemma…
Raven Bio…
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.
Happy Reading, love R x
I'm off to get
my cuddles…
