Interview with a Dom @RavenMcAllan #newrelease Secrets Remembered @Totally_Bound #Diomhair #bdsm

Happy Saturday, folks. The awesome Raven McAllan is on my blog and she's interviewing her latest hero from her fantastic series Diomhair. Aiden's story is told in book three, Secrets Remembered, and shhhh, don't tell her, but he might just be my favourite of them all so far. She always gets the nicest jobs, I tell you. Well, I would have been far too tongue tied to interview him myself.

So, without further ado.... here they are.

****

I love coming to chat to Doris. Usually, I try to get one of my characters to interview her, but this time she got me. She said no grandson cuddles if I didn't do it myself.

Sigh

Here we go then.

(Yep, I'm mean like that. *sniggers*)

Who would have thought a white van could play such a big part in bringing people together?

Ailsa and Aiden didn't have a clue.

I've persuaded Aiden to talk to me, and explain a little bit about the mystery. Or should I say, Alisa persuaded him. I just got all shivery when he looked at me in 'that way' and resisted the urge to let him take over. He has such a way with him, you know?

R: So, Aidan what did you think when you first saw Ailsa?

A: Why isn't she on her knees.

(The expression wicked evil grin could have been formed just for him. It's in the eyes, and the way his lips curl up so very sexily and…oh my, he's giving me 'that look'.)

R: Ah, right. And then?"

A: How did she get here. Then, before you ask, I was glad she was there, and I plotted how to get her on her knees.

R: Was it easy?

A: Narrows his eyes. No, but nothing in this life that’s worth having is easy. It has to be Ailsa's decision. I wasn't going to affect it in any way. Grin. Well, not except by showing her what we could have.

R: And?

A: Well you know, you wrote our story for us. For anyone else. Shrug. They'll need to read Secrets Remembered to find out.

I got the impression that a clam is easier to prise open than Aidan. But in the interests of this blog, I'm nothing if not persistent.

R: And the white van?

A: Is white. And annoying. Pause We really don’t know what it's all about. (He does that all out Dom look again. I tell you my knees are shaking.)

A: And dear Raven, if you do discover what it's all about before us, or think you do, you will tell us, won't you.

R: Oh yes.

A: Good. Then are you busy? Do you want to come and play?

R: What do you think…Sir.

 *****

Here's the series blurb…

Secret. What's happens there stays there.

It doesn't matter whether you want to learn or teach, be in control or controlled, Diomhair could be the place for you.

The ruined castle deep in the Scottish countryside had been rebuilt into an exclusive, private, BDSM club, where people could learn about and enjoy the lifestyle.

Not everyone approved, and not everyone appreciated it, but for those who did and fit the criteria, it was somewhere to go and be themselves, relax and play.

And if you found love there, your own perfect match, well that could only be a bonus.

For isn't the secret to true love the biggest secret of all?

*****

And the book blurb…

What comes first your happiness or your job?

Ailsa McLagan is sent undercover to investigate possible shady dealings at the private BDSM Club Diomhair. The last thing she expects is to be confronted by one of the Masters there. Not only does he make her want her to sink to her knees, but he seems to see straight through her disguise, too.

Aidan is instantly attracted to the clueless Sub he stumbles upon. Even though he knows she is hiding her true identity he can't help but push her to discover her limits, and introduce her to the delights of subbing to him.

Scared by the intensity if her reaction, Ailsa runs and all seems lost.

When the truth is revealed, can they work towards a true Dom/sub relationship, even though theirs started on a lie?

*****

And of course, a wee tease…

Ailsa couldn't take her eyes off the tiny teardrop shaped orb of molten wax as it fell towards her. It was all well and good being told to regulate your breathing, absorb the pain and breathe through it, but it didn't help at all when you had no idea what it all meant. Why hadn't she fessed up and said she wasn't the sub?

Because that would have dropped her even deeper in the mire and he night have been the one to say red.

The wax hit her chest and she gasped, made a noise between a sob and a scream and stifled the swear words that came to mind. The sting wasn't a sting. It was pain. Red hot radiating pain that filled her, and made her breath come in short sharp pants, and caused her to pull at her restraints.

Her tongue felt like cotton wool, which filled her mouth and made it dry and unusable. It was hard to clamp down on the panic she felt. How could she shout red when her voice wouldn't work? Even the fact Aidan was staring at her intently didn't help. He said he could read her, dammit, so why wasn't he stopping?

It was like something out of a horror film as the next drop of wax, and the next got closer and closer to her body, and hit.

Onto the swell of her breasts, one by one and close to each other. The sting struck, the pain began…Ailsa coughed. "Ahhh, ohh r…" she stopped speaking. The pain was different. Oh it stung but the sting was like someone was trailing their finger over her skin, creating tiny pulses of pleasure.

Aidan straightened the candle up so the wax gathered in the shallow dip by the wick.

"Colour?" His voice wasn't steady and that tiny hint of vulnerability resonated with Ailsa.

"Green, oh my, argh." She was babbling but didn't give a damn. "More please. Take my top off." She knew without a shadow of a doubt she wanted to see what he would achieve without having to try and miss the strip of cloth that covered her breasts. "Really, Sir, green. I want to feel it all. You were right, the pain isn't an ouchie pain, it's an 'I want to feel more' pain. Green."

Would he do as she wanted? How on earth could he, without untying her and spoiling the moment?

Three seconds later, Ailsa realised she shouldn't have worried. After all he was a Dom and probably used to subs changing their minds like they changed their knickers. Aidan nodded, put the candle down in a safety holder on the table, and lifted a wicked looking knife from the table. The blade was a good nine inches long, with a serrated edge and a sharp point and the handle was thick and indented for fingers and thumbs, to enable the user to clasp it safely.

It was one thing to tell yourself that he would be more than competent when he used it, another not to find your heart beating faster when the tip slid almost lazily across your skin and the point lifted the wax that clung there. Aidan flicked the cold pieces away like he was brushing crumbs from a tablecloth. Then he slid the blade of the knife under her top between her breasts and pushed upward. The material parted as if it was held together by a thread, not a tight knit weave, and slid over her sensitive breasts and nipples to allow cool air to caress them like a lover's kiss. Aidan smiled and rested the cold flat of the blade over her heart and moved it carefully over her skin.

"One day, I'll scribe you." He said the words so quietly that Ailsa thought he was talking to himself. "Ready to be decorated, pet?"

No more mention of scribing? Ailsa wasn't sure whether to be pleased or disappointed. Mind you her idea as to what it meant was somewhat hazy. Scratches that didn't last? She made a mental note to research it. Hold on woman, learn to accept and like one thing at once. Walk, don't run. Aidan cleared his throat, and Ailsa realised she hadn't answered him.

 "Oh, yes, Sir." She regulated her breathing, a lot happier now she knew what to expect, and relaxed into the hard mattress as best as she could. How she wished her head was raised a little so she could see better.

Was he a mind reader? Aidan replaced the knife in its cover and bent to reach under the bed. With a whirring noise, the top third tilted a little, just enough for Ailsa to be able to look down her body. Then he stood back, picked up two candles and held one in each hand.

He didn't speak again, but began to rotate and move his hands. It was mesmeric to watch as he twisted and turned them and wax slid and slipped down the length of their candles. Tiny granules formed and twisted and almost shimmered as they spiralled downward towards her skin.

When the first one hit, Ailsa stopped thinking and let her senses fill her instead. The sting, the tug on her heart, the way her inner muscles tightened and her pussy throbbed all morphed into one hazy, arousal filled sensation of pleasure.

With each new arc of wax, somewhere else began to sting and sing.  Aidan knew what he was doing, and created a web of wax to decorate her skin. Nothing formal but a beautiful intricate design that any abstract artist would be proud of. Something as good as an old master by a new one. That thought would have made her snigger except she didn't want to miss one second of what was happening.

Then, suddenly it was over. Aidan put down the candles, untied her and wrapped the blanket Ross had handed him around her, without removing the wax.

Ailsa began to shake, and burst into tears. He cuddled her close and stroked her hair.

"Shhh, let it out, it's normal and natural. There, there." He held her close and whispered nonsensical words until she quieted.

Ailsa sniffed and looked around. "Can I have a tissue please?"

Connie handed her one and she whispered her thanks. Her voice didn't seem to belong to her. None of her did. It was strange and disquieting.

She wondered what happened next. After all she was still coated in wax, half naked, and in a room with virtual strangers. For the first time she saw the sense in having more than one person around. As long as they weren't all axe murderers.

*****

I hope that got you a wee bit hot and bothered…

(I'm now off for grandson cuddles)

Happy reading,

Love R x

Oops forgot the buy link…

https://www.totallybound.com/secrets-remembered

and you can stalk me here

http://www.ravenmcallan.com/

Blind Beauty with @ElyzabethVaLey #NFT @evernightpub #mm

Oh, look, it's Monday again, and I have a very naughty Fairy Tale on my blog today. The lovely Elyzabeth M. Valey is here with a character interview.

Enjoy this peek into Blind Beauty.

*****

Thank you for having me!

Hello everyone! I’m here today with two guests that play an important part in Blind Beauty: Deidre and Mortimer Brandywine. I tried to reach the protagonists, James and Richard, but both men seem to be occupied at more pleasurable activities and have not answered my notes.

Fortunately, Morti, who’s Richard’s step-brother and his lovely wife have offered to answer some questions regarding the men.

Welcome and thank you for doing this Deidre and Morti.

“You’re welcome.”

You both know Richard, as he’s your step-brother, Morti, but, please tell us, how did you meet James?

M: We found him wandering near our home during a snowstorm. He was going around in circles with his horse. Deidre noticed him first.

Deirde nods enthusiastically.

D: “Yes, it was impossible not to notice. The lad was wearing a great coat but there was something about him… exotic. Don’t you think Morti?”

The couple shares a knowing glance and Deidre’s cheeks flush profusely.  

Ahem, so I take it you invited him inside and then what happened?

M: “That’s kind of private.”

D: “We warmed him up.”

Deidre bursts out laughing and I raise my eyebrows in question. Morti clears his throat loudly and shifts in his seat.

Why was he lost in the forest? I ask, quickly changing topics.

M: “Ah, he was on his way to his new home. He’s bought a house in the outskirts of the forest. He,” Morti pauses. “He had trouble with his family back home.”

What sort of trouble?

M: “Well, it seems he was called some things--”

“They called him ugly!” Deidre jumps in, gesticulating wildly. “Can you imagine? James Macintosh ugly?”

He’s not?

The couple glare at me.

D: “Of course, not. He’s the sweetest looking thing you’ll ever set eyes on. His hair is spun gold, his eyes blue as a midsummer sky, his lips plump and sweet as honey, and he’s hard in all the right places.” Deidre chuckles and winks.

M: “He’s definitely something special,” Morti agrees. “He’s very enthusiastic.”

The glimpse of a smile appears on Morti’s face, and he seems distant for an instant, as if remembering something pleasant.

You’re happy that he’s with your brother?

M: “Happy? We’re very happy. We’re so excited for them. Even if society frowns upon that sort of thing in this day and age, everyone should be free to love whomever they please.”

Deidre nods. I notice her squeeze her husband’s hand.  

So, tell me about your brother, Richard, what’s he like?

D: “Oh, Richard is such a looker,” Deidre sighs dreamily. Catching her husband’s disapproving glare, she straightens her posture and gives me a nervous smile. “Of course, Morti is the handsomer of the two, but Richard is quite the looker. He’s a carpenter, you know? So he’s spent a lot of time cutting down trees and carving them and making beautiful things out of them.”

How about his character?

Morti frowns. “Richard has a nose for trouble. Always has, and well, the things he and James have had to go through just goes to show. Richard wouldn’t have ended with those thieves if he—“

D: “Morti, don’t start with that again.”

M: “All right, all right. Richard is a good man, a very good man. If he sees someone in need he’ll go out of his way to help, but sometimes, precisely because of this, he can be a bit naïve and get into a load of trouble.”

D: “It’s true. That thing in the village—“ Deidre drops her gaze. “At least, everything got sorted.”

M: “Yes, yes, it did.” Morti smiled at Deidre. “Do you need anything else, Elyzabeth?”

“No, that’ll be all. Thank you Morti and Deidre.”

M: “Thank you. I hope everyone enjoys learning James and Richard’s story. They deserve happiness.”

Blurb:

James Macintosh is hours away from his new home. He is ready to start a secluded life away from all the rumors, insults and disgusted faces concerning his appearance. However, a meeting with a mysterious woman and her child, mingled with a sudden harsh snowstorm will set him down a very different path than the one he had originally envisioned.

Richard Randywine is an accidental fugitive living with a band of rowdy thieves. A good man at heart, he has gotten used to hiding his emotions behind his strapping muscles and brute strength.  Yet, when the thieves ambush an unsuspecting rider, Richard is forced to drop his mask and step forward.

Will both men be able to see what lies before them or will they be blind to the possibility of happiness?

Excerpt:

He climbed atop his horse, as told. His back molded to Richard’s, his body betraying him as it molded into the other man’s embrace. Richard pulled him hard against him, his body enveloping him in an almost suffocating hug.

“Go,” he whispered huskily into his ear, his breath fanning it. James pressed his thighs against Faith’s flanks, hoping the animal would understand, considering the strange position she was in. She did, for she set off at a trot in the direction Richard indicated. They galloped in silence, trees whirring past them, snow flying when they swept past. James eyes widened and he barely controlled the urge to order Faith to stop as he realized their impasse.

“Richard, the hoof prints, the snow.” James pointed at the visible trail. “They’ll track us down as easily as the king’s hounds trace a fox.”

Richard’s breath was warm in his ear. His hair tickled his temple and James had to suppress a shiver.

“I know.” Richard chuckled. “Don’t worry. I have a plan, besides wishing that they’ll wake up during the night and we’ll be miles away by then or that it snows heavily again.”

James wished he didn’t have to worry, but he couldn’t relax. The problem wasn’t so much the thieves that could pursue them at any moment, but the man behind him. He was too close, too comforting, and all too desirable. James shifted in his seat again, trying to find a comfortable position. One in which he wasn’t pressed up tightly against Richard’s groin. One in which he didn’t imagine he felt the length of his cock hard against him. Because, he was convinced it was his imagination. Otherwise, how could a man like Richard be interested in him? It didn’t make any sense. In his experience, men like Richard were ladies’ men. They seduced, fucked and discarded women. He wasn’t a woman and he’d been rejected too many times in his life. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need more pain. Richard’s fingers brushed against his side, the fingers digging into his flesh and distracting him as arousal flared in every centimeter of his flesh.

“What got you into thievery?” he asked, attempting to forget how close their bodies were.

Richard grunted in reply and he fell silent once more, fishing his mind for a topic of conversation. It came up blank. He thought about asking Richard to stop. Faith was probably tiring though she didn’t show it and surely, they were safe by now. He should ask. James knew he should, but he couldn’t. He was losing his mind, falling prey to the liquid fire that was consuming him inside and outside. He wasn’t sure if the man was hard, but he was. His cock was stiff and throbbing, the idea of taking or being taken by Richard flashing through his mind every time Faith bounced.

What would it feel like?

Flesh both silky and hard as steel brushing against him, an intimate caress, deep and longing. They’d become one man, writhing, gasping, and moaning. James’ breath hitched, the tightness in his breeches becoming uncomfortable. He clenched his teeth together and grasped the reins so tightly the material cut into his hands. He scrambled to regain his bearings, to remember whom he was with and what had occurred in the last 48 hours. He couldn’t trust Richard, but neither could he trust his treacherous body. He was not a beautiful man. Surely the thief didn’t want him. The thief. That’s right, Richard was a thief. He had no morals, no scruples, no—James groaned as Faith skipped over a fallen log, throwing Richard’s body against him, the erection he was sure he was imagining grinding against his bottom.

Available at:

Evernight Publishing

Amazon.com

Amazon.uk

Bookstrand

All Romance Ebooks

Add it to your Goodreads

Author Bio:

Defined as weird since she was about eight, Elyzabeth honors the title by making up songs about her chores, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper and talking to her dog whenever he feigns interest.

Losing the battle to the voices in her head is her favorite pastime after annoying her younger sister with her singing. Writing stories full of passion and emotion where love conquers all is her happy pill and she'll forgo sleep to make her readers live the dream.

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A sneaky @RavenMcAllan A prosy Perry and an interview @evernightpub #newrelease #bdsm #regency

Never trust a Raven. That's my new motto. There I go and invite her on my blog and what does she do? She turns the tables on me, and has her hero interview me? 

Just as well Perry is so very yummy, is all I can say.

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?

Well does that intrigue you or not? If you combine it with all the other stories of the Grettons, in the Behind Closed Doors series, I hope it does. For it is my story, mine and my Lady's.

Oh, my apologies, my name is Peregrine—Perry to my friends. Lord Corby, eldest of the Gretton siblings. Raven, my author, told me Doris would be a great person to interview, so here I am. Ah, it seems Doris didn't know I was interviewing her, she thought I was popping in to chat about my new story. Well I am of course, but I promised Raven, I'd grab Doris' attention whilst Raven and Budda played and ate chocolate. That to me is very strange, because in my time you drink chocolate.

So Doris, if you came to live in my era, what three things would you miss the most?

D My net book, kindle and washing machine.

Hmm, that's interesting. I think Raven would agree with you. She says her husband thinks she has someone called Mac attached to her at all times.

And what do you think you'd enjoy?

D. Oh the carriage rides and horse riding in Hyde Park. And the dresses. I Just love the dresses!

Do you think it's important to use names that were popular in my time, when books are about then? I know Raven does, but she showed me some books with names that we would never call our children. I won't name who wrote it, but it made me blink. Not good. So what do you think?

D. Oh yes, I do think that's important. I can't imagine a regency heroine being called Chelsea for instance. *sniggers*

Is there anywhere in my world you'd like to have seen? I know Raven would like to have been sculled across the river to Vauxhall Gardens and seen the fireworks.

D. The Vauxhall Gardens have always intrigued me, I have to say.

A Dom today or a Dom in my time. Which do you think would have the hardest time?

D. A Dom in your time, without a doubt. I quite admire how you manage to handle your … err… affairs, shall we say.

Now, I believe you call this a quick fire round. That would be foolhardy in my era, unless you were a crack shot. So, Raven says to ask, and you answer immediately

On a gentleman… Breeches or pantaloons

D. Breeches

Banyan or bare

D. Bare

Hair a la Brutus or tied back

D. Tied back

Port or brandy

D. Brandy

Curricle or Phaeton

D. Phaeton

Now My Lady says I have to ask you these…

Sprig muslin or figured silk

D. Silk J

Blonde or brunette

D. Well, I have to say blonde!

Hot chocolate or tea

D. Both

Masked ball or Almacks

D. Masked ball, imagine the fun you could have.

Now this question I'm sure Raven put Maggie up to asking…

Vibrator or darning mushroom?

D. *chuckles* that's where our time wins hands down. Vibrator!

And Raven says…

Wet wipes or chocolate covered son?

D. *glares at Raven*

Wet wipes. In fact I think  I would miss them too in your time.

And on that note, I'll leave you to berate Raven, and I'll go back to my world.

D. Thanks so much for stopping by, Sir.

Oh and here's a short tease from my story…

"You will tell me all if this state of limbo continues past the point I can't bear it won't you?" One finger stroked up the soft cleft between each rounded globe and teased the puckered hole there. He might have consciously forgotten her, but his mind knew what worked to send her pulse soaring and her body shivering in anticipation of what was to come.

"Won't you, love?" His fingers stopped moving and she moaned in disappointment as she dithered how best to answer.

A sharp smack on each arse cheek made her gasp and squirm. His laugh was low, full of promise, and made her juices gather. This was the Perry she remembered. For each two smacks, he caressed her. For each caress his finger teased inside her that little bit more.

"Won't you?" His hand stilled and he began to remove his finger one tantalizing tiny movement after another.

"Y … yes, yes of course." She'd promise anything for him not to stop.

When he bit she came without warning. Her composure shattered, her cunt muscled tensed and relaxed and wave upon wave of stinging sensation bounced through her. How she didn't fall onto the coverlet and grind her nub and nipples to aid her release she'd never know. Probably only the ingrained desire to do as he demanded stopped her.

She cut her scream off by biting the coverlet, and his hand began to connect in earnest. Each stinging touch reverberated through her and sent a fresh spasm of juices from her channel and over her quim. Maggie flew, and her world shook.

"You came." He teased her cunt with one hand even as he spanked with the other. "I didn't say you could. How long can you last now, love?" The stinging thwacks stopped so suddenly she rued the loss as if someone severed her lifeline. Maggie groaned as Perry ran his hands over her sore—nicely sore—arse and up her spine, and followed them with tiny nipping kisses. When he reached the nape of her neck, she began to pant. Truly to be touched in such a way almost sent her over into the abyss once more.

"Roll over." He removed his hands and she did as he asked, wincing as the silk of the bedcover slid over her sensitive skin.

Perry must have seen her wince for he paled and took her hands in his. "I have hurt you?"

"No, No, not hurt. Stung in a good way." He looked doubtful. Maggie speculated on the best way to reassure him. It seemed there were some parts of their lovemaking that hadn't come back to him. She glanced pointedly at his cock, which lifted the shirt he wore and stood out proudly, glistening with his juice.

"Your cock seemed to enjoy it," she said softly. "Your breathing isn't regular, and your body is flushed. Are you telling me we shouldn't do something we both enjoy? You gave me a command and I couldn't follow it. You punished me in such a way I gained my release over and over. Yes my arse is sore from your attentions but in such a way I would weep if it didn't receive them. We decided," she hesitated, but she had to continue. "We decided this was how we wanted to love each other. With you in charge and giving us our releases as you desired. Sometimes you would tell me to do as I thought fit, other times you demanded my obedience. It is what we chose Perry. We." Again she emphasized the word. "We chose to do. And my arse may be sensitive now, but who knows where will join it. It brings us both such pleasure I would be bereft without such attention." Maggie knew fine how that felt. For so long she hadn't had any contact with Perry, and her body—and mind—missed him. She hoped and prayed those long lonely times were about to come to an end.

"Ah, if you are sure? Dammit, Maggie, it all seemed so right, so familiar and so us, and then you winced and I wasn't convinced if I hadn't done you a disservice and assaulted you."

"Believe me, my lord, if I hadn't wanted that attention you'd have known soon enough. I loved it, the sting is something to treasure, the aftermath even more so, and the bites are a reminder of what we can do for each other."

He traced her nipples one after another and nipped each nub just the pleasure side of pain. "And you do all that for me as well?"

She nodded. "When you say so."

He bent his head and addressed her nipples with his teeth. "And this?" She hissed as he bit down on the tender nubs. He knew just how far to go. "Yeess, and that."

Perry lifted his head. "Good. So you will do anything I say? Within reason?"

"Within reason," Maggie agreed. Having come this far she decided perhaps it would be prudent to spell a few important details out. "We chose words, which if used meant whatever we were doing needed to stop forthwith. A safely net if you like."

He considered that as he continued to nip and soothe her nipples. "Do we use these words often?"

Maggie shook her head. "Never as yet and there is only one. The word is Boney. You said that epithet was enough to stop anyone in their tracks."

 BUY link: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/peregrines-prize-by-raven-mcallan/

Stalk Raven here: 

http://www.ravenmcallan.blogspot.co.uk/

http://www.ravenmcallan.com/ 

A day with @RavenMcAllan's Regency characters #menage Cecilia's claim

Hi all, it's Raven again…yes I know shh, I'm getting to be a fixture around here. I think I'm the lucky one to be honest. Well it has its good sides and bad ones. Let's be fair, when my characters go off and talk to Doris and leave me behind with my grandson, that’s both good and bad.

Good, because I get Budda all to myself.

Bad, because I know fine well what Doris can get up to…and as for Philippe and Caleb? The mind boggles, even If Cecy is there to try and keep them in check…anyway, Budda and I have a date with a very large bowl of ice cream and a chocolate milk shake.

****

Doris here, as you can see that Raven has taken over again. Mind you, she did leave me with her characters...

*grins to self*

On with this interview!

Raven grabs Budda by the hand and whispers things like "love from Grandma," and "gooey" and "shall we?" I have a feeling I should be a bit worried. However there's no time.

"So hello," Philippe bows over my hand. How come all of Raven's heroes are charmers? Just for once it would be nice to have a healthy dislike for one.

R Not my heroes sorry, a baddy maybe.

Damn I thought she couldn't hear me…

R I know how your mind works…

I knew she'd say that.

"Now, bonjour Philippe. Comment ca va?  (I thought I'd do my French bit first, and hope he replies in English."

"Hello Doris. To meet you at last in person, instead of watching you put red type over my words is enchanting. Why do you mess with my words eh?" His look is 100% Gallic, and I tell you he smolders. I'm squirming, when Cecy punches him on the shoulder. It's not a gentle punch either. The other guy—can I call regency gentlemen guys I wonder—winces and not just from embarrassment. He looks at me, and I tell you his eyes aren't smoldering, they are twinkling. Oh my, what a twinkle.

"It serves him right for being rude," Caleb, well I guess it's Caleb, says with a grin. "He was a bit miffed when you made Raven cut out his lovemaking in French. After all you can sound a lot more romantic and be much more explicit in French."

He bends forward and whispers in my ear. Darn it I'm sure I'm the color of the tomato I had for lunch. "Shall I translate?" he says with a wink.

"Er no thank you." Even I know what he said, and it's as well I know he's teasing.

Cecilia looks across to him, and I swear he blushes. If she could bottle that look, and give it to me to sell I'd be rich by Friday. It's a lethal 'behave or else' look. Even I'm wondering what I should have done and I haven't. Ah maybe ask some questions?

"So, er well it's good to have the three of you on my blog today. I know we're all celebrating the release of your story, Cecilia's claim.  I love the story. Was there any part of it you would've preferred Raven to miss out?"

All three of them shake their heads at the same time. Well that was unequivocal. "Why not?" I'm genuinely interested. After all some parts are very hot, and I reckon very intense and private.

"It is our life." Cecelia replies. "All of it is what makes us who we re. Good bad or indifferent. If we are to tell our story, that is what we do."

Okay that makes sense.

"So what's the best bit for you in the book?" They burst out laughing. Now it's my turn to go red.

"When we take Cecy in the…" Philippe pauses, winks and laughs. "In the glade."

"At the very end." Caleb says. "And I'm not giving any spoilers here."

"When I meet them each time." Cecy grins. "And one look and my insides melt."

Now I'm melting. Them a screech of laughter from Budda in the next room brings me out of my reverie. Last time Budda and Raven disappeared whilst I interviewed her characters I spent three hours getting chocolate off Budda and a leather sofa. I look at my notes. Caleb leans over my shoulder.

"One to six are no-nos, don't even bother. Seven, only in the sunshine, eight, he does if he thinks he can get away with it, and nine never ever. Ten I love them equally."

"What?" Philippe pushes Caleb to one side. "Oh yes, I agree. Except I never try to do that, it is beyond my capabilities."

Cecy takes the paper from my hand. I'm limp with all the testosterone floating about.

"Philippe De Caen, do not dissemble. You do, whenever you can. And I let you. And believe me, Doris, Caleb is not far behind. They are as bad as each other. In fact I think we compliment each other in every way. Now let's see what else you ask."

I sit back and let her get on with it.

"Which side of the bed do you like?" She's reading my notes.

"Left."

 "Right" The men answer in a hurry.

"And I like the middle," Cecy adds. "Now favorite food?"

"Fruits de mer."

"Steak and kidney pudding"

"Oh apple pudding, or soup. So gentlemen, one last question. Doris has asked where we prefer to live…" They look at each other and smile.

This time three voices answer me.

"It doesn't matter, as long as we're together."

Awww. They go out of one door as the other one opens and Budda runs in. As usual he's filthy. Raven follows him and grins. 

"We've saved you ice cream, I thought you might need it to cool down…"

Never a truer word…

Everyone agreed the Brigstock family was unconventional. Just how unconventional could be somewhat of a shock...

She may have turned her men down once, but will she have the resolve to do it again?

Cecy's willpower is never strong when she's around Caleb or Philippe, and now she needs them to keep her safe. They intend to stick close to her, so surely a little dalliance is acceptable? The problem is a little is not enough for any of them, but can they all agree just on what form the 'more' should take?

Here's a tease…

"Look, love, do you trust us?"

"Certainly," Cecy said, surprise in her voice. "Else I would not be here."

"You think not?" Philippe asked.

"I know not, or not without putting up a fight, and remember 'twas Randall who taught me to hold my own, and not in a ladylike way. I could kick your balls so far inside you, they'd never see the light of day again, let along provide your cock with the juices of enjoyment. That I chose not to must prove something?"

Caleb pinched her ear. "We overwhelmed you with our, er prowess?"

"Something like that." She ran her hands down her skirt. "So, what happens? Am I to stay here? Not in this glade I hope. I don't admire nature to the extent I wish to commune with it all day and night."

"Cecy listen." Philippe took her hands and drew her to him. His swift glance at Caleb made him move behind her wedging her between them.

"A Cecy sandwich?" she asked, as she snaked her foot between his legs. He held it tight. She may say she was acquiescent, but who knew how far her docility went?

"Naughty," Caleb chastised her and she sniggered. "Actually my lord as I still have no footwear on I thought to give your cock a love tap." She grinned at him over her shoulder.

"Thank you, I prefer you do not. I'll give you a love tap instead." He administered two sharp spanks to her arse, one on each globe. She jumped and went to rub the spots.

"No, no," Philippe took hold of both her hands and held them high above her head. "We give the taps and we give the rubs. You enjoy."

Caleb caught the inference. "How does it feel, love, to be caught between us, to feel my hand sting your flesh, and soothe the sting? Does the pain change to pleasure, and fill you with the need for more?"

"The truth, now, Cecilia." Philippe added as he bent his head and showered tiny nipping kisses along her shoulder. "Does it excite you and make your juices flow? Are you wet? If one of us dipped our hands inside your honey pot would we be covered in your nectar?"

Cecy wriggled and pressed her rear into his groin. His prick decided it was time to notice and jerked its appreciation. Of course she detected the tiny movement and pressed ever harder.

"Unless you want your dress flipped over your head, your arse spanked the color of your lips and both of us ministering to you now, I suggest you desist. As much as that scenario appeals we have no time. We must move."

****

Buy links

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/cecilias-claim-by-raven-mcallan/#

viewBook.at/B00CW6FQ0E

Amazon   http://authl.it/fp

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-cecilia039sclaim-1213527-340.html

http://www.bookstrand.com/cecilias-claim-mmf

Nosy links…

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.

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.

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 out more about Raven here…

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

An Interview with a male sub shifter and his Domme with @CherieNicholls #newrelease

Some folks are hard to track down, I tell you. Well, I guess it's only to expected with Cherie Nicholls's characters. They are shifters after all and I shall keep my grumbling to a minimum.

Ticking off a shifter Domme would not be the wisest move I don't think....even if it is Under A Moonlit Night

Tracing His Heart by Cherie Nicholls

Carter Jones, known as Jones to his friends, lost part of his soul a long time ago. He had to make a choice between his pack and his heart, a choice that has haunted him and his wolf for years. Rhea Gracefield, Domme, business woman, and lone wolf, was forced out of her pack when the wolf she loved told their secret. What happens when Jones finds his way in to the Domme’s Domain?


buy link:  http://www.lsbooks.com/under-a-moonlit-night-p789.php

Interview:

An Interview with a male sub shifter and his Domme.

Rhea is sitting in a chair and Jones is kneeling on a pillow at her feet. The male wolf shifter is sitting back on his heels and still seems like a giant of a man.

Q. How hard is it being a submissive male shifter?

Jones: It’s not hard for me at all. For other people, not all but some I won’t mention, they find it hard to accept that what I and Rhea have is right. But I don’t really care what they think, I have a hot confident woman in my bed, how many of them can say that?

Q. Who trained you?

Jones: Rhea did, well we started out together but then. Jones looks at Rhea with such sadness is hard to see. Well then things happened and we weren’t together for a long time. I can’t claim to have been celibate.

Rhea strokes a hand down his head calming him.

Q. Why do you feel the need to submit to Rhea?

Jones grins 

Have you seen her? Who wouldn’t want to submit to her?

Rhea: Don’t believe him; he likes to push my buttons.

Q. Rhea, what makes you want to be in charge?

Rhea: To have the trust of someone in my hands, something that’s so fragile that one wrong move could destroy it, is a heady feeling.

Q. How did you feel when he walked into your club after all that time?

Like I wanted to rip his throat out and watch as he gasped for his last breath.

Q. Sub 'torture' of choice?

Hmm, I do love to torture him. But if I had to pick I’d say having him tied up and refusing to let him come until I say. Now that is really fun.

Jones looks less than impressed

Q. Favourite toy?

Rhae: Actually it’s my hands. I’m very tactile with my sub. Also It’s not like I can ever forget to pack them, is it.

Q. What do you like most about the other person?

Jones: Everything

Rhea: What he said.

*****

Okay, maybe I forgive them for being late.

*grins*

Now, I bet you can't wait for an excerpt, right?

“What I want,” she said finally, “is you on that bed, on your back with your wrists by the headboard in ten seconds or so help you.” She took a step to the side and started to count. “One, two, three.” Jones moved, making it to the bed and positioning himself, as she’d commanded.

“Nine, ten. Good boy.” She smiled at him as she came to stand by the bed. Heat blossomed inside him at her words. He always loved pleasing her.

She moved to secure his wrists to the headboard with cuffs he hadn’t seen. Just as quickly, she immobilized his ankles.

“You do make a pretty picture.” She told him as she glided a finger down his body, pulling a shiver from him.

“Hmmm, I do enjoy when you do that. I wonder what else I can do to make you shiver.” Without warning she leaned forward and took his hard erection into her mouth until he tapped the back of her throat.

“Sweet mother!” Jones roared as the sensations zinged around his body. With a long slow lick she pulled away from him.

“Tut tut, naughty boy, I don’t remember saying you could speak?”

“Please Mistress.” He panted the words. She’d barely touched him and already he was ready to come, and come hard.

 

****

Sounds like a must read to me!

Dance Of The Chocolate Covered Grandson #characterinterview @RavenMcAllan #newrelease

I always love having Raven on my blog with one of her new releases, and today is no exception. In fact I pinned her down for you to get the dirt on her latest release Dance To A Different Beat. Well, I thought I had pinned her down, but dang that honorary Grandma of my youngest, I should have known she'd get her own back.

*rolls eyes*

So, you're in for a treat. Make yourself a cuppa and see what happened when I tried to interview Raven's characters

(Raven here)

Damned If I didn't know she'd get her own back. Come on my blog she sayd. Let's chat about Dance to a Different Beat. You can cuddle Budda, and share chocolate kisses and I'll ask you questions. I'll come up to yours it'll be a nice change.

I should have known better than to let Raven coerce me into going to her place, now I hadn't the foggiest idea where we were. And I still remember the last time I let her lose with Budda. Chocolate everywhere. I found bits in the strangest places. I swore then, I'd be on my guard, and make sure I've hidden the chocolate.

Yeah, that'll be right. I should have remembered she can be devious. (Well with nine children she has to be at times.) But hey I'm no slouch in that department, I used to work in Schools, I've already hidden my stash of chocolate.

Then I was getting giddy, Budda was giggling, and Raven was talking silly stuff to him. It was all right for them; they had their eyes open. I promised I wouldn't.

S'okay D, we’re here you can look now.

And so we were...

I open my eyes to find the building somewhat of a letdown. Just a big stone place, almost box like and with a tarmac car park on two sides. We must be somewhere in the city. I can hear cars on what must be a motorway judging by the noise, and there's a clock chiming the hour. Then we go to one of two doors set into the wall, and Raven presses a keypad. The door opens and I'm half expecting to hear the music from The Twilight Zone, or The Omen or something.

Once inside we go up a wide staircase and into a really bland foyer. Two people are waiting for us, which I assume must be Sean and Jane, Raven's characters from Dance To A Different Beat.  Jane seems to have seen me look at those boring walls because she smiles. "They're due to be painted next week with a mural I believe."

I smile back at her and am itching to ask some questions about that mural, because my imagination has just gone into overdrive, but Sean choses that moment to kiss Raven—one can go off honorary grandmas, you know—and we're taken next door. This lounge is amazing, and if I squint through the large window into… Oooohh! It's a big dungeon sort of room that I would love to explore, but sadly that's not what I'm here for.

"We'll let you look around later, if you want?" Sean's deep voice drips like honey and I find myself blushing like a school girl. I also have to fight the urge to sink to my knees, which hubby would find very amusing I am sure. I must have managed to nod in response, because he smiles at me. A clit clenching toe-curling kind of smile that has me biting my lip to not drool. Jane is a very lucky woman.

Ha, Raven here. I got Budda, and cuddles. Then we were shoved—shoved I tell you—out of the room. She didn't want me; oh no she wanted Jane and Sean. They said okay why not, and didn't even need me to hold their hands.

Ponders I do hope Doris knows how to get chocolate out of hair, shirts, settees. Oh and off TV screens, windows…I don’t think Sean has thought this through somehow. That settee is cream for goodness sake.

See what I had to put with. That got her out of my hair, though. Raven has perfected her 'don't you diss with me and my characters' stare so well, there's no way I can talk to Jane and Sean with her hovering, as long as I can ignore the giggles and grandma more noises from the next room. I tell you the things I do for you, dear readers… It's such a hardship after all, interviewing Sean…

*winks*

Okay, back to the interview:

I get my wayward hormones back under control and shuffle my papers. Now, where are those questions? Ah, yes. I smile at Sean and Jane.

"First things first, and I have to ask. Why call the club a Dance Studio? Don't your … err … clients get confused?"

The two of them look at each other with such a look of love that I may as well not be in the room. I cough discreetly and Sean settles his attention back on me. He kisses my hand and I am so glad I'm sitting down.

*swoons*

"Ah I'm sorry Doris. So why the Dance Studio? Well there's dancing and there's d a n c i n g."

He says the word very slowly and my insides do the two step. I so get what the name means now.

"And I assure all our clients know exactly what sort of dance they're going to do. It's a private members club, and we all like certain types of…"

Dammit he winks at me.

 *sighs to self*

"Dancing. You see sometimes people want something that not everybody accepts or respects. To those of us who enjoy a certain type of lifestyle it gives us a place to meet up. But also a place to play in private."  Jane sniggers and rolls her eyes at this and I hide my smile, as Sean continues. "With or without an interested and non-judgmental audience."

So what happens if you get innocent queries?" I ask. "You know people who want to learn to ballroom dance?"

Sean grins at me.

"We really do have a proper dance studio. It's away from the rest of our, err, studios, and only open on one night a week."

"Vanilla night?" I can't help myself. I snigger a little and he nods.

"You could call it that, although Josh, the instructor is qualified in more than just the Waltz and the quickstep."

"Yeah just ask Ali…" Jane interrupts and I hold my breath. Sean did have rather a Sir stare then, one that I can't help but respond to, and I've got a Sir of my own… Time to ask another question, me thinks.

"Sean, you’re a respected Dom. When did you first realize your interest lay in things more than vanilla?" Sean ponders this for such a long time, I'm beginning to think he is not going to answer me, and then he shrugs and smiles. I tell you that smile could crack ice and melt snow.

"Hell, woman, couldn't you ask something easy like the formulae of integration or the number of grains of rice needed to keep the salt in my salt cellar dry? How do you ever realize something like that? Not consciously and not in a light bulb moment. I just knew what I liked, found things I wanted to try, and sometimes people I wanted to try them with. Then I well I supposed you could say I became disillusioned. I was knocked back by the one woman I wanted to play with… no not play, much more like interact with and be a partner to."

"And a Sir, Sir."  Jane adds. Now he smiles at her. I swear he would make a fortune if he bottled it. Makes me feel soooooo good.

*Note to self, remember hubby's smile…*

Dammit now I'm even more hot and bothered. Time to switch my attention to Jane.

"Jane, you seem most reluctant to meet Sean again in his role as Dom at the start of the book. Can you share with us why?"

"I knew if I did meet him again, something would change between us, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it." Jane answers. "I'd got some hang ups—still have to be honest, and I had no idea if they'd come between us again. I knew how I felt about Sean, but not about all of his demands. He's a very masterful man, and although I love it, and him…well, some things aren't easily accepted."

I love how open she is being with me, and how Sean quietly encourages her.

"Sean, you waited some time for her. How did you know she was the one?"

Sean shrugs again. Oh, I am starting to love that shrug.  

"How do you know anything? A shiver when I saw her, a tingle and a need to touch? A determination to protect and cherish her whatever? I just knew."

Oh lordy me, I am melting on the spot here.

"Did you not get fed up waiting?"

"I'd have waited forever. No okay, stop rolling your eyes, both of you. I wouldn't, I'd've made a move even if Ali… er sooner or later." I so know that wasn't what he was going to say. I wonder who Ali is?

"Jane, can you tell us what made you seek out Sean this time? Why didn't you do it before?"

"With hindsight, I don't think I did seek him out. I'm sure there was a lot of prodding and coercion, of the nicest kind.  Some people decided for me. But yeah, I'm glad they did."

I can tell that she really means it, and I move onto my next question.

"What do you like most about wax play?"

"I'll go first," says Sean. There's a primeval sense of ownership. That each drop is making a statement, and creating a pattern of beauty on a perfect surface for it. As each bubble of wax touches, and the tiny hiss of breath passes between Jane's lips, my body responds. And before you ask, it was never so intense for me before."

"Aw… thank you sir." Jane says. "To me, I look into Sean's eyes, when I can, and as each teardrop touches me, I can see the love and need in him. For each little sting, I'm sharing something so precious it is like a teardrop. A happy one. As the sting flows into me so does our love."

*makes mental note to remind Sir we we haven't played with wax in a while*

"Is there something that wasn't in the book that you’d like to share with us? Sean?"

"I hate Banana's and the crinkle of greaseproof paper," he replies.

Jane laughs. "My favorite spice is Cinnamon and my favorite Muppet Miss Piggy."

I get it. They are not going to give us spoilers.

"Ok quick fire questions for both of you. Favorite body part of your partner?"

They reply in unison.

"His butt, oh god it’s perfect."

 "Her butt oh god it's perfect." They both burst out laughing, and I have to join in.

"If it was vanilla or nothing, could you?" I ask my next question and I am most curious as to what they will say.

"Well, define vanilla?" Sean counters, and I smile and decide to move on.

"Savory or sweet?"

"Sweet," Jane says.

"Both," is Sean's reply.

"Ropes or chains?" I ask. Jane goes white and I could bite my tongue out. Sean gives me such a look it takes all my determination not to assume the position and wait for the flogger. Wrong question, clearly.

"Hot or Cold?"

Jane relaxes and answers, "Hot."

"Yeah, oh definitely hot…" Sean winks.

"Any last words to your readers as to why they should check out your book?"

Jane replies. "Because it’s a hot Romance on The Go. Long enough to get you all hot and bothered, to read on the way to work or in the bath. And to think up ways of utilizing the info on your other half maybe?"

I smile at that and look to Sean for his answer.

"Now then, think of what we've told you, and then think of all the things we haven't. They might just be in the book."

Ah, good answer that.

"And, Doris honey, you night need to invest in some extra strong child-cleaner, did you see the size of the bar of chocolate Raven gave to her grandson?"

I groan to myself and sure enough I can hear Raven's wicked evil giggles in my mind. She did say she'd get her own back, because I wouldn't let her keep the chauffeur.

****

So, there you have it. See what I put myself through?

*grins*

Blurb:

Jane has a decision to make. Meet Sean and face her demons, or hide. Can she allow herself to let go enough to give this experienced Dom the submission he demands?

Jane has always made her own way in life, and the thought of giving up that control scared her away once. Sean is determined to show her that true submission is a joy, and not something to be feared. He is not prepared to lose her again.

As they face her fears, can they reach their full potential, or will those demons just prove too much to conquer?

Be Warned: BDSM, wax play

Excerpt:

As he watched under hooded eyelids Jane ran her hand over the back of a leather chair, and caressed the smooth shape as it swept in a dramatic curve and became the arm. Her fingers splayed out over the wooden covered strength. She'd always been tactile, and Sean could only wish her hands would touch him in the same erotic way. The thought of her mouth on his cock, or himself buried deep inside her pussy, had been the basis of more than one of his climaxes. He despaired of ever seeing if his fantasies lived up to the reality. She looked at him. "So this is vanilla?"

He nodded. Shit, I must seem like one of those stupid nodding dogs you win at the fair. "So?"

"Oh nothing really," Jane smirked. "But a chair like a giant clit isn't what I'd call vanilla."

 He laughed. "You, my dear, are the other person to recognize that, let alone remark on it."

"Really? So what does everyone else see?" She sounded genuinely interested.

"Comfortable."

"What?" Jane sounded incredulous as she let him seat her at a small round table carefully screened from the wind, and prying eyes. "Nothing else? It's two-tone red leather, for goodness sake."

He shrugged and went to a side table where an array of fruit was set under muslin covers. "People only see what they want to see Jane. And hear what they want to hear." He handed her a bowl of fruit with everything Ryan had assured him she loved in it. "Don't you agree?"

"Hmm." She ate a spoon full of raspberries. As the deep red vied with the subtle hue of her lips Sean's cock reacted and hardened. Damn, if he didn't wish it was his prick that was being sucked into her mouth. "How d'you mean?" She swallowed and filled her spoon again. "This is good. If I'd known I was coming for breakfast, I'd have ditched the joggers and worn something tidier. So, you were saying?"

"That people have selective sight and hearing, and interpret things in their own way to suit themselves." He paused. Should he? Why not? It can't make things any worse.  "Take yourself for instance. Your friend wants to come to dance, you hear BDSM. Did you ever check with her to see what she'd been told? Nope, you just jumped to conclusions. Why? Have you been to see Ava and Ryan? No, not since she told you what had happened. You worry her and Ry, you know, but does it bother you? Evidently not, you just see them as threatening your safe sterile life and ignore them. And you set the whole thing up, and I could have sworn not five minutes ago you were really happy for them, but you haven't told them that. They both wonder what they've done to insult you. And us? You ran. You saw how well we meshed, and ran. No questions to me, no define what you mean, nothing. You just bottled. And now look at you? You look like a bag lady. Your glow has gone. When are you going to open your eyes and ears and see and hear what's going on? When are you going to give us a chance? Or are you going to let yourself be sucked into apathy and sterility? For fuck's sake remind yourself what you felt with me, tell yourself you deserve more. And bloody well talk."

He slammed his hands on the table so hard both the crockery and Jane jumped. Her spoon fell to the floor, followed by three slices of apple and a grape.

Buy Links:

Evernight Publishing http://www.evernightpublishing.com/dance-to-a-different-beat-by-raven-mcallan/

Amazon http://authl.it/B00CNYPZWE

http://www.bookstrand.com/dance-to-a-different-beat-mf

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-dancetoadifferentbeat-1190951-147.html

Nosy links…

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.

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.

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 out more about Raven here…

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