Saturday, 31 October 2015

#ravenreads Saturday's Guest is London St James #newrelease Dark Tales Diaries 3

Hi all and welcome to #ravenreads on Saturday

Today's guest is the lovely London St James and her new release

Dark Tales Diaries, 3
For thirteen years, Tristan Blackthorn has searched for his lost love, Keira. Has the time for their reunion finally come?
When the ball-busting Patrice Wyngate figures out she's not happy, she does what she does best—takes control. Yet hearing, "Dance for me" completely changes her life, and nothing will be the same again.
For Zoe Harper, there would be no more dieting. The plain truth of the matter was, her no-good cheating boyfriend could kiss her size fourteen ass. Because quite simply, she found a man who was happy to show her Big Girls Do It Better.
Hadley Cooper, Eric Williams, and Jude Jamison had been best friends forever. Yet, at some point, their time living together would end, each of them finding "the one." Only, Eric and Jude had other thoughts. They intended to make Hadley understand—Three's Not a Crowd.
Be Warned: ménage sex (MFM), BDSM, floggers, spanking
Buy Links:

General Excerpt:
Everyone knows heartache. This seems a harsh statement, yet it is the one fundamental truth all of us have in common. We may allow religious beliefs to separate us. Fall behind the dividing wall of the social classes. Have varying shades to our skin. Maintain different political views or sexual orientations. We may see the world through diverse eyes and hail from dissimilar backgrounds. However, the one thing each and every single one of us comes to understand-to live is to know pain. There's no escaping. Whether we know the sorrow and grief of losing someone we loved dearly, the disappointments of deceit and lies, or the devastation of a broken heart, all of us, no matter who we are, will eventually become acquainted with heartache. The question then becomes; what do we do to survive?

I placed my favorite Mont Blanc pen atop my scribbled thoughts, and stared out the office window. The setting sun backlit the city skyline in a splash of burnt umber. In just a few hours I'd be donning my Armani tuxedo and joining my audacious sister, as well my mother who flew in from France, in order to co-host the gala marking a milestone for the company Adelle and I run. The company my late father started forty years ago. But here's the thing. While most of the New York publishing world will be in attendance, armed with their celebratory faces and platitudes of well wishes, I'll be there going through the motions-forced to appear happy.

With a heavy sigh, I rolled my leather chair back from the desk. I wasn't in the mood to celebrate. Quite the opposite in fact. After the call I received earlier today from my P.I., informing me the lead on Keira's whereabouts was another dead end, all I really wanted to do was settle into my penthouse to read some of the newest submissions to Dark Tales Diaries, and drink single malt scotch until the words blurred upon the pages. This seemed the more appropriate thing to do since the date on the calendar also marked another occasion-thirteen years to the day since I last saw Keira.

I could still remember the facets sparkling in her aquamarine eyes. They were eyes so deep I could get lost within the depths of them. So sharp, they slayed me. So soft, they comforted me. Trust me when I say, I'm well aware thirteen years is a long time to be apart. Nonetheless, it seems only yesterday I was basking in her happy laughter. Tasted the sweetness of her lips. Felt her delicate body pressed firmly against mine. Heard her soft voice whispering naughty notions in my ear, and felt her warm breath gust across my skin. Yet, in other ways, every single minute of every single day of my unwanted separation from Keira has eroded at me like a slow drip of acid.

Squeezing the back of my tense neck, I wondered if perhaps I should listen to Wade, and call off any further investigation into Keira's disappearance. After all this time, how could I not consider it? Maybe my sister, Adelle, was right when she said Keira didn't want to be found and I needed to let my obsession go. Could I do that? Did I even want to give up? Or was I doomed to endlessly search for answers and an unobtainable dream?

Almost absentmindedly, I ran my fingers over the stack of mail which contained the words of so many, and plucked a pink envelope from the pile. I read the return address. Seattle, WA.
"Are you in there, Keira?"

Shaking my head, I sat the letter aside. I knew the truth. Regardless if I found the girl turned woman amongst the erotic tales of others or not, it didn't really matter. Simply because, what I was doing now, what I'd started with Dark Tales Diaries, was so much more than a possible means to finding her. It was my way of dealing with the loss-my way to survive.

Adult Excerpt from Dance for Me:

"Take off the dress."
I swallowed hard, reached for the side zip, and pulled the tab down. Next, I slipped my right arm free of the ruffle over my shoulder, allowing the soft material to fall, and stepped out of the dress. Heat infused my cheeks, because standing in front of a man and removing my clothes seemed bolder than I really was. Nonetheless, I walked in nothing but my panties and high heels over to where most of Damon's clothing was, putting my dress there, too.
"Goddamn." The way he said this sounded less a curse and more of awed praise for me. "Leave the panties and the heels on."
"All right."
When I turned around, Damon held out a hand for me. I noticed he was sporting an impressive bulge beneath his suit pants, which made me smile.
I walked to him and took hold of his outstretched hand.
"Give me your other hand, too." I did, and he cuffed my wrists together. The inside of the cuffs were lined with what felt like wool-soft against my skin. "I'm going to attach these to that chain," he said, briefly glancing up overhead. Without wasting another moment, Damon checked the cuffs by running his fingertip along the top and bottom of them where the leather edge met skin, before he did what he'd said, securing my arms up over my head. I wasn't sure what he did behind me, I couldn't really see, but the chain attached to the cuffs rose, stretching my arms, and lifted me until my body was taut. However, my feet were still on the ground. "Good?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied.
 Warm hands slid down my extended arms, shoulders, and followed the contour of my spine in a sensual glide that had me going instantly wet.
Damon walked around me, keeping his hands on my skin. In fact, he caressed me everywhere, from my ankles and calves, to my thighs, hips, and belly. I whimpered when he used his thumbs to swipe over my nipples and I closed my eyes as he worshiped my body with his touch.
Adored. This is what it felt like to finally be adored by a man.
"Perfection," he said near my ear, squeezing my ass. He pressed his bare chest into my bare back, fitting his hard package into my backside where his hands had been a moment earlier. "Spread those sexy legs apart for me a little bit." After I complied, Damon's strong arm came around my waist-hand resting on my lower belly, fingers splayed. "Tilt your head to the right."
As soon as I tipped my head to the side, his mouth nuzzled into my neck, follow by his tongue licking a path up to my ear. Heat curled low in my belly. When he took my fleshy lobe and sucked, his fingers dipped past the waistband of my tiny panties, slipped over my waxed-bare mound, and burrowed between my lower lips.
"Ooh…," I moaned when a long finger dipped into my tight opening.
"So nice and wet," he murmured. He brought his slick digit up, and circled my clit. "Let go, angel. Surrender and just feel."
With one of his big hands palming my left breast, fingers playing with my erect nipple, the other hand down the front of my panties toying with my clit, and the front of his hard body pressed against my back, I had no problem giving myself over to his sexpertise, completely.
My hips moved, ass bumping against his crotch. My body shivered and shook. Need coiled around me and my sex pulsed.
"Oh God." That fast he was going to make me come and come hard.
"That's it," he said, voice low and guttural. "Come for me."
I detonated. Starbursts went off behind my closed eyelids. I moaned, and my arms pulled at my restraints, fingers curling into my palms.
I'm not sure how long I floated in the aftershocks of bliss, but I came to my senses when his hands slipped free of me and I felt him move.
Turning my head, I saw him grab a flogger from the wall and come back. Two seconds later, he yanked my panties down. They hit my feet.
"Press your sweet ass out for me."
A moment after that, Damon swung the flogger in quick circular motions, tapping my bare ass, then down to the backs of my thighs, moving up to my ass once again. Little whips of sensation added to the orgasm I just had, and started building toward something I'd never felt before but always suspected I wanted-a bite of pain. Though, what he was doing wasn't pain. Not yet.
The supple leather tails of the flogger rained down on my shoulder blades and upper back. I squirmed. He worked me, over and over, gradually increasing the power behind the blows. But when the tails smacked against my butt once more, this time, I felt it. The glorious sting. I moaned, and pressed my bottom toward him in a needy offering for more.
I heard him speak four simple words.
"Dance for me, angel."
I danced-twisting and writhing, going up on my tiptoes, arms stretched above my head as he worked my flesh over.
This is what I'd been missing. What I needed. I fell into this type of zoned-out space-my body no longer tethered. I floated.
When I heard something drop, I came back to the grind of a zipper and the sounds of my own breaths.
Damon latched onto my hips-fingers biting deliciously into my flesh, and entered my sopping wet sex from behind in one, powerful thrust, filling and stretching me completely. 
"Fuck," he muttered.
I felt his teeth bite into my upper arm. "Aah, yes!"
I came-pussy convulsing around his hard cock.
He took me without mercy, lifting me up off my feet, and fucking himself with my body. I was his, unable to do anything but enjoy the ride he was giving me. And it was a ride. Long, hard, and unyielding.

About London
London Saint James is an award-winning, bestselling author. She lives in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them. You can find out more about London and her work on her website,, her blog at, or follow her on Twitter @LSJRomance.
Would you like to know more? Join London's mailing list for her monthly newsletter Or, join her book group on Facebook, Slip Between the Pages with London

Happy reading,

love R x

Friday, 30 October 2015

#FFF All in a Day's Work...

One picture

One hundred words

My vision...

All in a day's work...

Whichever way she turned, she still looked like a soup can. Albeit one with a few dints and scratches and no label.
Had it really cone to this in such a short time?
To do as she was bidden, no questions asked?
It seemed so.
Yesterday Ophelia, today the soup dragon.
But then, she considered, as her wings flexed and relaxed, and the air filled with strange whirring and clanking noises, you’d do anything for the one you loved.
One who loved Dragons, loved you unconditionally and was celebrating her fifth birthday.
Tomorrow Ophelia, today the soup dragon.

Mother love.
Catch all the other #FFF here

Happy reading,

love R x

Wednesday, 28 October 2015

The Dukes' Christmas Abductions "I wish you joy." "I wish me cunt." ( a RavDor collaboration) @MamaD8 #TimeTravel #MidWeekTease

This weeks #MidWeekTease comes from a recently subbed collaboration between Doris O'Connor and myself

Meet Kit...

(He just has that... Hmmm come hither look)


Follow your heart and cross space and time…
When Clara lands the job as curator of Faversham House it’s a dream come true. Especially, when her favorite Regency Erotica writer Vicky Hopewell shadows her in the run up to the annual estate ball—a tradition left over from Regency times.
The costume ball is always the highlight of the year, but neither woman expects to be confronted by two drop dead gorgeous Dukes.
Daniel Danvers, the Duke of Hockwell thinks Clara is one of the servants invited to the estate ball. 
Kit Capel, the Duke of Aulban cannot understand why his wife Victoria acts as though she doesn’t know him.

As both couples slowly come to terms with the reality of their situations, where does their happiness lie? It can’t be as easy as simply following your heart.

And your tease...

“Tarnation, Dan what the hell are you playing at?” Christian—known to all except his mother as Kit—Capel, the Duke of Aulban swore as he turned from another candle he’d managed to light, to see his cousin holding a swooning woman in his arms. “Who is she?”
Daniel shook his head. “In truth, I have no idea but she’s a pretty handful. The storm blew out the candle and well.” He shrugged and shifted his grip on the swooning woman to lift her into his arms. “I got one lit and here she is.”
Kit shook his head. “Just like that? So which debutant is she? I must admit this is a new way to ensnare a Duke. Wait for a storm, blow out the candles and sneak into the private wing. Thence to be compromised. Welcome to the world of the leg-shackled man.”
Daniel glowered. “I’ve no idea who she is but it matters not. It won’t rub, no leg shackling will occur. I’ll deny it all. After all I was with you all evening.”
Kit grinned. “Of course. As I was with you. Just in case Marianna Allencroft claims otherwise.”
Daniel paused on his way toward the door, which led to his rooms. “Fair Marianna?” He whistled. “You lucky dog. How was it?”
Kit considered. “It would have been bland. I scratched the itch once before, but that was it. She of course was more than satisfied, but I had no intention of returning for another course. Once over egged dish was enough.” He shuddered. “She wears so much attar of roses I was almost the one to swoon the time I did partake.”
“Poor man.” Daniel’s voice was mocking, and Kit snorted.
“I assure you ‘tis true. She got to taste my pudding and I declined to sup her nectar.”
Daniel kicked open the door. “Only taste, not enclose?”
“I decided enough was enough. The woman ate me like she was starved.” He paused. “Although if the gossip mongers are to be believed, Alllencroft isn’t shall we say able to perform. Too many dubious encounters in Portugal.”
“Poor sot. I suppose I could say poor Mariana but … I can’t say I’ve ever warmed to her.” Daniel walked through the open door. “Now this handful could be something different.”
Kit stared at the unconscious woman in his cousin’s arms. Much too voluptuous for his liking, but definitely to his cousin’s taste. “I wish you joy.”
“I wish me cunt.”
Vicky listened with growing anger as the two impeccably dressed men talked so callously about women. Okay they might have found the perfect costumes but did they really have to make their performance quite so authentic? Men—well some men—had moved on surely?
The door banged behind her friend and the first guy and she jumped as she realized she was stuck in the semi dark with an unknown man. One who hadn’t clocked her yet, but it was surely only a matter of time before he discovered he wasn’t alone? Vicky groped over the shelf of the mantelpiece she’d found in her fumble along the wall once they’d been plunged into darkness. Clara had been several yards ahead of her, and in the eyeline of the two men. Luckily, Vicky thought, as she was behind them, her presence hadn’t been noted.
Where had they appeared from? She could have sworn she and Clara had been the only two in the room when the lights went out.
Wherever it was now she not only had to contend with a storm, and boy she hated storms and always had, but also a drop dead gorgeous, play your cards right and you can have me guy in front of her, and her friend god knows where with this guy’s almost double.
It was enough to make even the hardest woman swoon, and whatever others might think—and her last boyfriend insisted he knew—Vicky was no balls buster. Oh she was an outspoken, in your face feminist, and had long thought women got a raw deal at times, but she also knew given the right man she’d roll over and purr. Unfortunately Maurice—hedge fund analyst and all out asshole—Endon hadn’t been that one.
The guy in front of her lifted the candle he held high in the air and turned in her direction. Vicky bit her lip, slid her hand a few inches further and to her utmost reassurance touched something cold and hard. She almost groaned her relief out loud. Thank god for small mercies. It might only be another candlestick but it was empty, heavy, and available. As a cosh it would work as long as she had the element of surprise. If it bent and wrapped itself around the bloke’s head it didn’t matter as long as it gave her time to find Clara and they both got away unscathed. Vicky decided she could bet her new iPad mini these two weren’t the sort to kiss a hand and say good bye.
More like kiss somewhere else and demand more.
The man in front of her turned and stared straight at her. His blond hair glittered gold in the candlelight and his blue eyes matched the color of his impeccable evening jacket, which sculpted his body. He flexed his long fingers, which gripped the candlestick. Vicky’s mouth went dry. That small gesture made her think of how they would grip her. How he would grip her.
She swallowed as an unholy grin spread over his face and the corners of his eyes crinkled up.
Well,” he drawled. “It seems it was indeed a lucky day I told Lady Allencroft enough was enough, and I preferred to partake of supper elsewhere.” He walked purposefully toward her. “And lo and behold my supper is waiting. Neat and perfect for me.”


Catch all the other #MidWeekTease treats here

Happy reading,

Love  R x

Tuesday, 27 October 2015

#TT The voice... are you listening?

A bit of a tease this week as my flash follows on directly from that of the gorgeous Doris O'Connor's which you can catch here here

This is my bit...

The voice...

“Oho, what have we here?
She jumped. What did he think…he…they…whoever think they had here? A banana with hair arms and legs?
 No not a banana, they were as scarce as rain in the Sahara, and she was not yellow. Not yet though if she stayed where she was much longer, thee was no telling.
Get rid of the darkness.
She had no idea why, but that light, that precious draw her out of the darkness light was a lode stone.
"Ele…anor…sweet…precious Eleanor. Are you there?”
Oh god that voice. That sexy as sin, dark as the best chocolate, smooth as silk and any other cliché imaginable voice called her, teased her and drew her to…
To what?
 The light, that precious never to be taken for granted light.
The only thing to keep you sane.
Keep you grounded.
Save you…
She took a step.
“Come back to me…” Him.
She turned…
“No to me…” Who was that?
Eleanor. Enough is enough. Do as I say, I need you here, the light can wait.
He paused and the world waited.
“It’s over, you’re too young to die.”

She turned her back on the light and fell into his arms.

And catch all the other #TT here

Happy Reading,

Love R x