Wednesday, 27 June 2018

#MidWeekTease with... *wink*

I't's time for


so without further ado...



~When you know, whatever happens he'll be with you.~

And dear people, that's your lot today. Yes, it is a tease, but I have an idea around those words. When it's formulated you'll get to know more...

Catch the other #MidWeekTease posts here

Happy reading,

love Raven x

Monday, 25 June 2018

Got me a guest...hot, sexy, what more do you need? His name? Well Gabe of course...

And to know he's from my bestie, Doris o'Connor




Hello, lovely peeps. Doris here. The awesome Raven let me loose on her blog. Now what can I do to run amok on here….

looks around furtively

Okay, okay, I behave… My latest hero Gabe is giving me that look. You know the one. The Dear Author, behave yourself of I’ll stop talking to you look. Shame it’s not the, behave or earn yourself a trip over my knee, look. Sadly, those are strictly reserved for his Lissa these days.

Dammit, those characters get all the fun parts!

However, I digress, as per usual. I was going to talk about names, in particular character names. How to pick them? Well, in my case, my ornery characters are usually pretty adamant about which names they want to use. I typically can’t write unless I have their names firmly in my head. Same goes for a title. I need one of those, even if it might change.
Gabe’s Revenge has always been just that. I briefly considered others, but that title stuck, like they usually do. Same for his name. I just knew from the off he would be Gabriel Henshaw aka Gabe. Lissandra’s name also popped into my head straightway. I had more trouble with her mother. While she is only referred to in the background—her mother passed when Lissa was a child—she is an important element in the story.
That’s where the trouble started. Not that I realized it, until I got my edits. You see her mother was called Gabriella. It didn’t occur to me that Gabriella and Gabriel are far too similar.
Snort
So, the name got changed to avoid confusion. I know why I subconsciously chose that name. My youngest daughter is called Gabrielle and would have been Gabriel had she been a boy. I like those names, though don’t expect me to use one of my children’s names as a character…
That would be… weird… I mean you know the books I write, right? They have…  s e x. A lot of it, and using my kid’s names in that context. Erm, yeah, nope.
Like when Raven wanted to call one of her heroes Marcel and I was like. NOOOOO!
That’s my son’s name. I can’t read about him having kinky sex.
Snort
To which the ever-snarky Raven replied.
“But how do you know it will be kinky sex?”
glares at her
“Any kind of sex!”
LOL, the problems us writers have. Strangely enough, I can disassociate myself from that when I read for pleasure, and to be honest I haven’t come across many characters who share my children’s names—thankfully!
Now, I have no problems using names of the people I know when I need a villain, or you know, readers’ names in my stories. I’ve used quite a few of them for my heroines, when said readers have requested I do so. That’s fun to do.
Strange, how your mind works isn’t it?
What about you? Do you have to stop reading if an author uses a name you dislike, or is the name of someone you know? Enquiring minds needs to know these things. Answer in the comments please. I’ll chose one lucky reader to have their name used in one of my upcoming stories.
Enough of my rambling, and over to Gabe.
Revenge is best served cold, you know….



Blurb:

Revenge is best served cold…

Gabriel Henshaw is nothing but a monster—a ruthless killer—that’s what Lissa Andrini has always been told. Sold to the man by her own father, she fears for her life, yet she can’t help the insane pull she feels to him. It has to be some form of Stockholm syndrome, surely? It couldn’t possibly be the effect of his Dominant nature effortlessly pulling her under his spell and awakening her latent submissive side.

Beating Andrini to a bloody pulp soothes Gabe’s rage temporarily, but that leaves his daughter. Were it not for a promise to her mother, he’d refuse this payment, not least because Lissa Andrini awakens all of his protective and carnal instincts. The perfect counterfoil for his darker needs and desires, she has the power to bring him to his knees.

Can love flourish when you’re a pawn in a dangerous game?
Be Warned: BDSM, spanking, anal sex, Daddy Dom/little girl play

Buy links:



Excerpt:
“Fuck you, Sir.”
The snarky intonation she put on that title, while she yanked her chin up and did her best to stare him down, should have made him do good on his promise to put her over his knee. However, the slight wobble in her bottom lip, coupled with the way every delectable curve of her body was pressed into his frame, meant any such action would be a very bad idea indeed. He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her, and he didn’t want her first time to be angry sex. She deserved better than that.
“Oh, fuck, we will, my dear, but not now and not here.”
Her eyes grew wide, her already fast breaths sped up even more, and Gabe swallowed a groan. He let go of her and stepped back for some much-needed breathing space. As it was his cock was trying his hardest to break out the confines of the denim surrounding it. Gabe couldn’t even remember the last time he wanted a woman this damn much.
“So, you’re going to add rape to your rap sheet. Murdering innocent women wasn’t enough for you?”
A gasp from behind them alerted Gabe to Mavis’s presence, and sure enough when he turned his head it was to see her standing there. Hands pushed into the pockets of her ever-present apron her lips were pressed into a fine line, signaling her disapproval.
“Parkinson is here, Gabe,” she said.
“Thank you, Mavis, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She nodded, glanced at Lissandra and shook her head.
“Tell her the truth, Gabe, all of it. Or this will never work.”
With that, she turned and left them alone on the terrace.
“Oh my God, she knows, doesn’t she? I thought she was nice and I could trust her. Oh, I’m such a fool.”
Lissandra tried to get past him, but he stepped in her way.
“Lissa, don’t.” She pushed against his chest in a vain effort to make him move and then glared up at him.
“Don’t you dare call me that. Only Mama ever called me that. Don’t you fucking dare…” She slammed her hand over her mouth and shook her head. Misery and despair rolled off of her in waves, and Gabe had to fight the urge to take her in his arms. She wouldn’t welcome that move right now, if ever, and now was not the time.
Instead he crossed his arms over his chest, widened his stance, and simply looked at her.
“I’ll call you anything I damn well, please, little girl, and you will lose the attitude. I told you last night, you’re mine now, so you better get used to it. As for Mavis, she is the most loyal person I ever met. Without her, I doubt I would have survived my childhood, so you be nice to her, do you hear me?”
“Or what? You’ll kill me, too?” The mumbled reply grated, and he took several deep breaths to calm himself.
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be six feet under already, girl. After the hit on your father went wrong, I’ve never trusted anyone else to do the killing for me ever again.” He waited for that to sink in, and sure enough her head came up, and she stared wide-eyed, confusion evident on her face.
“I thought… it wasn’t…”
“No, little girl. I’m not such a bastard that I would rob a child of its mother, especially when that mother’s only crime was falling in love and staying with that fucker, Andrini. Besides, I prefer to kill with my hands. Much more satisfying.” He uncrossed his arms and wrapped his hands around her slender throat. Her heartbeat jumped under his palms, and he squeezed just once before he released her. “To feel the life draining out a piece of scum that crossed me … that’s sweet.”
“You’re a monster.” Her whispered reply made him grin.
“Yes, I suppose I am. You better get used to it, little girl, and don’t get any silly ideas of crossing me. You behave and do as you’re told, and we’ll get along just fine.”
She swallowed hard, but gave the tiniest nod, and that would have to do for now.
“Good girl, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
“So, you’ll kill me if I don’t behave?”  She mimed quotation marks around that one word and nudged her chin up in a move of defiance that simply served to make him harder. It would be fun to tame all that passion, indeed, and knowing that he would be the first man ever to touch her, to teach her … fuck, what a turn-on that was. Gabe had never cared much about being the first. He wasn’t possessive over the women he fucked. That would mean he cared about them to be anything more than a convenient set of holes to sink his dick into, but this was Lissandra Andrini. His revenge and he was fast beginning to realize his destiny, too. Whether she’d also prove to be his downfall remained to be seen.
“Killing is too easy an out. That’s the only reason Andrini still lives. I want him to suffer, to wallow in his own filth. Death is too good for the likes of him. As for you…” He paused and smiled. “I’ve already told you what I’ll do to you. And once that ass of yours is red raw I will fuck it, so, maybe I’ll kill you after all with the petit mort, at least.”
Her sharp intake of breath almost sounded like a moan, and acting on instinct, he stepped closer, and shoved his hand under her robe to cup her mound. Wet heat greeted his palm, and he smirked, while a blush suffused her pale skin.
“What are you? You can’t … oh…” She tried to clamp her legs together, but one shake of his head stopped her. He forced himself to remove his hand, looked at the glistening evidence of her arousal on his palm and held it up for her to see.
“Protest all you want, Lissa. Hate me if you must, but your body doesn’t lie.” He licked the wetness off his hands and immediately regretted that, as her feminine musk hit his nostrils. Damn, she smelled good.
“I do, I hate you.” Her denial was too breathy to be truly effective, and Gabe laughed.
“No problem, my sweet. You don’t have to like me to enjoy fucking me. Now, go and get dressed, and meet me in the living room in ten minutes. Don’t make me wait, or so help me I drag you out there like this or maybe naked.” He grinned at her simmering outrage. “I’m sure my men would enjoy the view.”
“You wouldn’t dare?”
Gabe threw his head back and laughed.
“Oh, my sweet, never dare the monster.”

~~~~~~~

That’s all from me today. I hope you check out Gabe’s Revenge.

Do stay naughty!
D xxx



Sunday, 24 June 2018

#SexySnippets from a hot, dark Vampire

Welcome to this week's #SexySnippets

As someone was asking about Vampire stories in a facebook group...

Guess where today's seven sentences come from...




At a mysterious masquerade ball, two lovers with an unknown agenda wonder what will happen when the masks come off at dawn? 

Dorissa has always refused Rafe’s offer of marriage, but this ball might just be the right time to change the ton's strictly-enforced rules. Provided they both survive until the morning...




and your #SexySnippets


“Stay like that and touch you nipples, Dorissa; I know you can do it.” Rafe walked back to her and nudged her legs apart with his knee. “Show me how much you want to obey me, how much you want to be fucked. Do it now.”
As ever he was correct, and with a little difficulty, Dorissa maneuvered her hands across her chest, reached her nipples, and pinched them hard between her thumbs and forefingers. Even doing that herself was arousing. She sighed—dare she ask for more?

~~~~~

The Vampire's Breakfast is available from all good ebook sellers or from Evernight Publishing

Catch all the other #SexySnippets here



Happy reading,
love Raven x


Friday, 22 June 2018

Where's the magic wand when you need it?

HI All, 

Anyone know a good fairy with a magic wand to let me fit more wordage into less time?

I'm wondering how to fit more writing in. So much going on and my writing time is dwindling rapidly. Not good.

Which is one reason why I'm not hosting a lot of people at the moment on here, and I hate that. I like to share my blog with others.

However, to do that, I have to know I can pimp and promo their guest slot, and at the moment I'm hard pressed to pimp and promo me, let alone anyone else. 

(Did you know I had a book out this week? DeAnne's Dilemma from Evernight publishing here )



I was talking about the guests and promo to a friend, who agrees with me, that if someone takes the time to send you a promo you need to be able to showcase it properly. However, they—the guest—need to reciprocate and also promote their post.

And we decided send everything you need to put that post up, so you as the host don't have to spend hours trying to find buy links or the cover or whatever.

Which means of course, a you are more likely to be invited back, and b, it's a two way thing. Tit for Tat so to speak.

Now, that doesn't mean because I once hosted you I expect you to host me. I hope you will, but it's not a god given right. And I understand it's not always easy. Oh boy do I. But if you do, I'll make darned sure you get everything you need to put that blog post up. And promo it and say thank you.

Now I'd better get on with writing this WIP.


Hopefully once I get this new 'timetable' sorted I'll be able to host more people again—and send out pretty please will you host me requests as well.

Until then,

happy reading,

love Raven xx

Wednesday, 20 June 2018

#MidWeekTease with a dilemma—DeAnne's Dilemma

Now DeAnne's Dilemma is out so you can get your hands on it, (I was going to say sticky little mitts, but that's rude)


So instead I'll give you a tease from it, And of course the buy link 


Let's see, what shall I tease you with?

Ahh

snigger

“Anyway, what next?” Sandie asked, and I stopped thinking about coffee with whisky, and about how to hold my stomach in and
not let the girls hang low or go free instead.
“You hide your hickey?” I suggested. It was so noticeable it

shouted, “I’ve been fucked.” “Just because it’s a wedding pic.” Not at all because I was jealous. Not now at any rate. I hoped I didn’t show any evidence, but oh boy, wasn’t I in the same situation. “Otherwise if you get it, why not flaunt it, you lucky sod.”
“I am, aren’t I? Boy, he was... Oh, fu—shi—er, flip,” Sandie stammered and then went red. She’d split up with a no-good scumbag a few months before and on her own admission didn’t trust her judgment in men. “Might be a good idea. Anyone got some concealer?”
Beatrix sighed and fished a slim stick out of a pocket. Sandie took it with a sweet and insincere smile. “Proper little right-hand woman, eh?” she said quietly to me as she accepted it with a saccharine smile and said “thank you” out loud. “But why does it make me want to bitch-slap her?”
“Too good to be true?” I suggested. I totally understood. The woman had a way of rubbing people up the wrong way without even trying. I wouldn’t want to be her other half.
“Probably. Bet she pulls wings off flies.”
After a lot of to-ing and fro-ing, Beatrix eventually arranged us to her satisfaction with only a few very caustic comments, one of which was about how I seemed to have changed shape and my color had heightened. “You’ll need to make sure you’re slightly behind one of the others.”
“She can’t. She’s the boss bridesmaid,” Leslie objected. “Got to be up at the front.”
“Then she shouldn’t look like that,” Beatrix snapped. “She looks...” Her voice trailed off.
Bitch. Now, I’d love to say I don’t get that riled easily, but that would be an out and out lie. I do. As Quinn once said, from placid to harridan in thirty seconds or less. And when I do, take cover.
This was a take cover time. I straightened and out of the corner of my eyes saw my fellow maids exchange amused glances. They knew me and my temper.
“Well, honey,” I drawled and almost made myself sick with the sugary, saccharine, sweet tone. Behind me Sandie snorted, and Rhonda pinched my waist in warning to back off. She recognized that tone. However, it was too late.
“Believe me, there was a very good, six foot four, dark haired, blue eyed, sexy as hell reason for that. You see, I’ve just been thoroughly fucked.”
Sandie high-fived. “And me. Though no blue eyes involved. More of a dark, dark grey. We’re allowed.” She stared at the hapless, red-faced—though I guess not through a good fuck—photographer, while I rapidly went through the guest list to try to remember who had dark, dark grey eyes.
“So,” Sandie said in an exaggerated manner. “What’s your excuse, honey? Sheer bitchiness?”
Leslie, usually the peacemaker, added her two pennorth. “Lucky sods, both of you. I swear I’d need a manual to find my lady bits.” She rolled her eyes as she used the euphemism we all hated. “I’ll have to live vicariously through you both.”
Hmm, probably not. “Yeah well, now you’ll have to live through the rest of these photos or we’ll never get away, and you definitely will need a manual. On how to dispose of the body.”
Even Beatrix laughed at that, and I felt a right rotten bastard. Oh, for all of four seconds until she rearranged her features into a scowl and stamped her foot.

Catch all the other #MidWeekTease posts 



Happy reading,

love Raven xx 



And as it's book 2




Sunday, 17 June 2018

#SexySnippets with a man on a mission


This week it's seven sentences from this unnamed Dark Isle I'm writing (as Kera Faire) 


Aiden Fox, usually known, revered and feared in equal measures as Fox or The Fox, scanned the emails sent to him, swore and cussed one Michael Hoult. He was becoming a nuisance.
First of all the man had left the covert group Fox had overseen—unknown—then turned up as a bloody Dispatcher.
Now he was certain someone was intercepting his emails and he wouldn’t bet his pension to insist it wasn’t Hoult.
The irony was he had the intention of using the dispatchers not dispersing them like his lord and masters thought he would.
Maybe it was time to turn the situation to his own advantage. Rapidly Fox began to type...as from the date ascertained, it will change for it is as it was feared the... and sent it unfinished.

Catch all the other #SexySnippets here

And if you fancy reading the previous books in the Death Isle series, you can catch them here

Happy reading,

love Raven xx