Thursday, 17 January 2019

I feel a RavenRant coming on. You have been warned—but please read it anyway

Before you all wonder WTF let me show you this...



Now I'm no lawyer but I thought it was a legal requirement, or at last some effort had to be made to help any disabled person who wished to use use a shop. And if my reading is correct new or updated premises do need to make sure there is access. 

If anyone in the UK can clarify this, please do because it seems that at the point of writing (ranting) Sophie still hasn't had an answer from the store chain. They said they'd get back to her but...

It seems crazy in this day and age that a section of the population are in effect barred from doing something the rest of us take for granted. I can't imagine how it must feel to get somewhere and then be told, 'no sorry, you can't come in.' Not because you've done anything wrong, but because you can't get your wheelchair up the steps or manoeuvre your crutches through a too small door. Or whatever. 

Discrimination for any reason, (colour, creed, political inclinations, disability, wearing a maroon jumper, having a nose ring, red hair, you name it,) is not right. N O T......R I G H T......

Seriously, I mean I'm left handed, once upon a time I'd be burnt at the stake for being a witch. (No comments about that, thank you 😜😜😜😜😜) And even as a child (yes over half a century ago I know) some of me peers were forced to write right handed, but I think, hope, we've got past that.

So why haven't we got past singling out a large number of our community, and in effect banning them for doing what comes naturally to the rest of us?

Will be interested to hear the shop's response...if...when..

Gets off soap box and has a still drink.

Happier reading,

love Raven xx

 

Thursday, 10 January 2019

It's Evernighties Thursday. Me... a pram... and a library book



this week...

My first memory...

Goodness that's going back a bit. Okay a lot. snigger

To when I was in my pram. 

(source pinterest)

One of those big old fashioned one that my three cousins had used before me. And my other cousin did after me. We were all very accommodating and came two years apart. I slotted in between cousins #3 and #4.

My first memory involves books. Funny that eh? 

I was sitting up in the pram, the hood was down. It was summer (or warm anyway) and we were outside a row of shops in Occupation Road, Corby, Northants. The town where I was born.

My mum was talking to Maisie Ramsay,  mum of my friend Sheena. We were on our way to the library (so mum told me many years later when I asked her about it). The books were at the bottom of the pram. Evidently I grabbed one.

And this is where the proper part of my memory starts. I can vividly see myself turning it over and over, trying to flip the pages. Eventually I gave up and began to eat it instead. That's when it was removed from my orbit. And I cried!

But my love of books has remained, although now I write them as well as reading them.

Oh and mum said it was a romance!

Happy Reading,

love Raven x


Thursday, 3 January 2019

A regular but probably irregular post. Today the favourite thing i've written and why

Which means I'll do it when I can...

Not that I wear a nightie, Evernightie or not, but I love the idea of this blog. After all who doesn't like a wee peek into the mind of others.

So here we go...

The favourite thing I've written and why... Apart from those two magic words 'The End'.

And sadly I wrote that and bit my nail. 


(source—pinterest)

My favourite thing is either what I'm writing (or alternatively I think it's rubbish) or well... *scratches head* no idea.

I have things I think are written better than others. (Master springs to mind, that might not be a best seller but got to me) but favourite? That's like asking me whether I prefer chocolate or chocolate. 
(Answer, whatever chocolate I have handy)

So I sat and had a big think...
and I came up with

*Drum Roll*

The Tale of Rumple Rabbit

and

George, the Whatever Bird.

Now I guess you're scratching your heads and wondering what planet I am on. 

you won't have heard of them, very few people have, but I assure you they were very well received by their audience.

My kids.

Both had a beginning a middle and an end (well duh) and sad to say a moral. A well needed reminder about things that needed doing. As in Rumple Rabbit never put his clothes away tidily—in fact they were often thrown on the floor, even when his mummy had ironed them (Sound familiar anyone?) So mummy stopped ironing them and instead of a neat and well turned out rabbit he was, well, rumpled. 

Did it work? Nah, but my son still remembers the story. And now in his thirties he is evidently just the same *snigger*.

As for George, the Whatever Bird... that was a hoot and it did work. George had a terrible habit of answering any question with 'whatever'. (By the way, my son is not called George, or Rumple for that matter)

So his mummy would say, George what would you like for dinner, and he would say 'whatever.' 

I (and therefore George's mum) got mighty fed up with this. So the next time (in the story) George answered the what would you like for dinner question with whatever, he was both surprised and disappointed to turn up to the dinner table and be presented with a slice of bread, no spread. When he asked what it was, his mummy told him. 'That is whatever is today."

Did he learn his lesson? Oh no. So the next day it was a glass of water. By the third day in the story, when there was nothing on the tale, he gt the message.

So did my children... *Wink*

And that dear readers is a quick summing up of the favourite thing(s) I have written and why

Happy reading,

love Raven xx





Thursday, 27 December 2018

I'm so pleased to say that at the moment I have two books out in January, two in March and one in May. If I get my act together there could be more.
Very happy.


Seven years ago, I'd never have believed I'd still be writing or had so many books out.To everyone who supported me, who still supports me, a very big thank you.
No, none are under my 'real' name, but I have no problem about anyone knowing it. However, I find it helps to have pen names. I put that 'hat' on, get into the mindset, and start writing.


So we have Raven for hotter romance, Kera Faire for dark romance, and Katy Lilley for sweeter romance.

I mustn't forget J. Lilley for YA either.

(You can find them all on Amazon, 

under whichever pen name you want to look at)

Writing is something I love. I was very fortunate that when I was first published, my then publisher let me try my hand at whatever I fancied. (Thank you Breathless Press) This gave me the chance to discover what I preferred, what I was okay at and yes, what not to touch with a bargepole. 

There's nothing nicer than having the opportunity to discover your strengths and weaknesses. 

I know I love Regency, adore writing stories set in places I've lived in or visited all around the world, can't write sci-fi or horror, and seem to be migrating to sweeter stories most of the time. Not all of the time though *wink*



Of course not everyone likes what I write, and that's fine. We all have our likes, dislikes and preferences. But that won't stop anyone who wants to write. We just grit our teeth, smile sweetly and get on with it. I tink in the first place, if you have writing in your blood, you write and hope others will read it. But you can't not write.

After all, what can be better than a coffee and a good book?

and on that note, I'm heading back to write

Want to know what? Ah well, you'll have to wait and see...

Happy Reading,

love Raven, Katy, Kera and J

xxxx






Thursday, 6 December 2018

Happy release day, Doris O'Connor with Claimed at Christmas


Got me a guest today...


I'm over the moon to say happy release day to the lovely Doris o'Connor and showcase 

Claimed at Christmas


and mega sorry, blogger won't let me add the cover picture...time to check it out on Evernight Publishing...



Blurb...
~Life starts at forty? Biggest lie ever told. 
Leisha here—AKA crazy cat lady—resigned to live out my dotage with said felines. Okay, dotage might be pushing it a little, but, you know, sliding down the wrong side of forty is not the fun it’s cracked up to be. 
Until I’m drafted in to help out at Santa’s grotto, and then… well crazy doesn’t come close. This new Santa is decidedly odd. Who ever heard of the man in the red suit 'not' granting wishes? 
Still, when in Rome and all that… 
Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think my wish for two Doms would be granted. However, when my two rescue cats magically transform into drop dead gorgeous hunks come Christmas morning, we’re all in for one hell of a ride. 
Problem with magic is… can it last?~ 


and here's a wee tease



"Lie still, sweet Leisha. You've earned yourself enough punishment as it is."
Good God. It’s the voice from my dream. A voice so full of authority and leashed passion, my breath hitches and excitement spreads through my veins like wildfire.
"P-punishment? What for?"
"Hmm, let's see." The stranger, whose eyes hold me captive with their familiar arrogance, smiles and presses his erection into my mound. "Does this feel as though it ought to be castrated? And I won't even mention the fucking tags."
His annoyed growl vibrates through me, until it settles in my swelling clit, and I gasp as I take my first proper look at him.
It can’t be.
Yet, there, right above me is the unmistakable evidence. My captor is missing his right arm—just like Ben.
"Ease up, Aran, you're scaring our woman. We need to explain this. Then we can paddle that sweet ass of hers and give her the fucking she deserves."
"Paddle … deserve?" I sound like a dimwitted parrot, but when one is staring at a drop dead gorgeous human version of one's cat—and this one has a scar just like Bill—surely a woman is allowed to sound like a feathered idiot. Or the Queen… Since when do I sound as though I’ve swallowed a plum?
"You're my cats. You're Bill and Ben." That statement comes out as a high-pitched squeak, and both men growl.
Oh, my goodness, those animalistic sounds… I just love a man who growls, don’t you?
"Another ten swats to the tally for those ridiculous names, and we're not just cats." Ben, Aran, or whoever the hell he is—right now I can’t bring myself to care about the semantics of the situation—smiles. That action shows off a set of razor-sharp teeth, and I forget to breathe altogether when his eyes bleed to glowing amber. He leaps off me with all the speed and agility of a large predator, and I can only watch in stunned fascination, as the men nod to each other. The air shimmers around them, and in the blink of an eye, my bedroom is filled by two huge, beautiful black panthers. They nudge each other playfully, and before I have the chance to process of any of this, the air shimmers and they’re back in their human, and very aroused, forms.
Two impressive cocks bob up and down in front of me, and I can’t keep my eyes off that poetry in motion. Heat rises in my cheeks at my thoughts, and the men laugh. When I finally manage to wrench my eyes upwards, my insides clench in need at the quiet way both men are studying me. A trickle of my essence seeps out of my wet core, and both men pull in sharp breaths. Aran takes a step toward me, but his brother stops him.
"Let me go, Caid. She wants this as much as we do, don't you, sweet Leisha? Are you not wondering how our cocks would feel buried deep inside your cunt and ass, right now? Have you not fantasized about this many a night when you kicked the covers off to use your toys?" He smirks at my far too telling rough inhale and fists his cock slowly.
Unbidden, my gaze follows the movements of his fist. The first drop of pre-cum aids the glide of his hand, and I lick my lips in anticipation of his taste. It’s been way too long since I last tasted cock, let alone one as magnificent as this one.
"Aran." Caid's sharp command forces a snarl from Aran’s wide chest. He flicks his unruly mop of hair out of his face with an impatient toss of his head and the bed dips under his weight when he sits down. 
"Forgive my brother, Leisha. It's been a while since we were able to shift in and out of our true form. This," he waves his hand toward his own thick erection, "is a side effect of the shift. Not that I don't have every intention of fucking you until you can't walk straight, but first things first. Acting rashly is what got us into this predicament in the first place."
My head starts to pound again, and not due to any leftover hangover from my wine-induced stupor the night before.
"I don't understand. If you're panthers, why were you cats? Why stay with me? And what predicament?" Something else occurs to me, and I pull the sheet up to my nose to cover up. "And if you're only wanting to fuck me, 'cause shifting makes you extra horny, then you can forget it."
I hate the telltale wobble in my voice. Just my damn luck this is. Two gorgeous, naked men are in my room, and they don’t even want me for me. So much for Santa granting my wish. Sick bastard!
Aran's annoyed growl shakes the bed, and I squirm under the disapproving look Caid pins on me. My nipples bead into hard nubs, my stomach lurches, and every submissive bone in my body screams, God, yes!
"That will be another ten. How much is the tally now, Aran?"
"Thirty, brother. It's a shame we can't take her to the club, but I'm sure we can improvise. That hairbrush she's been torturing us with should do the trick, nicely." Aran chuckles, and I swear every hair on my body stands to attention at that dangerously sexy laugh.
"I … you wouldn't dare." My protest is far too breathy, and sure enough both men just smirk. Excitement pools low in my belly at the determined expression on their faces, and I clamp my thighs together to relieve the throbbing in my clit.
Aran grabs my foot and shakes his head. His suddenly clawed fingers dig in just enough to hurt, and I can feel my eyes widen in shock, or maybe that’s just pure unadulterated lust. I can’t believe how turned on I am already, and they’ve barely touched me.
"Stop fidgeting. From now on your orgasms belong to us. There will be no getting yourself off unless we give you permission."


You can get your copy of Claimed at Christmas


Happy Reading,

love Raven xx

Wednesday, 28 November 2018

#MidWeekTease in Hong Kong with a hot bod

Morning (or whatever) from a dreich Scotland. Dark wet and gloomy just about sums it up.

So maybe we need a bit of heat to cheer us up...



this wee snippet is taken from Hong Hong Heat...




One guy, tall, fit and blond hair, caught her eye and her heart did a weird double pitter pat.
It was the guy from the hotel. No snazzy suit, but black running shorts and a black sleeveless vest that shouted serious runner to her. As he approached along the track, she couldn’t help but admire—and drool at—the way he moved. His short hair had curled in the heat and the sheen of sweat over his body highlighted the muscles in his arms and the strength of his legs. She’d bet he had a washboard stomach and a cute ass.
Dammit, cease and desist drooling, woman, you’ll embarrass yourself. Nevertheless, she took a step back to wait for him to pass.
There was a grunt of pain from behind her. Deb turned to see an elderly lady, with perfectly coiffed white hair and wearing an elegant linen suit, rub her ankle.
“Oh, heavens, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching what I was doing. Have I hurt you badly?” Debra was appalled at her clumsiness. First day there and injuring the natives wasn’t a good start.
The lady laughed. “Don’t worry, no lasting damage and I wasn’t paying attention either. I was waiting for Gorgeous George to go by.” She inclined her head toward the guy who was a few yards away.
“George?”
The lady rolled her eyes. “No idea if that’s his name, but he sure is gorgeous. Sexy Steve, Hot Bod Harry, take your pick. I see him most evenings and it makes my day.” She waved at the man who grinned and waved back, before he slowed to almost a halt.
“Hi, gorgeous, you ready to run away with me yet?”
The lady cackled. “I’m too much of a woman for you, honey.”
“Too true, my loss.” He looked straight at Debra and winked. “How about it?”
Deb bit back a snigger. “Depends what ‘it’ you mean.” She blushed. Was she actually

bandying innuendo with a stranger? A much younger than her stranger. Her kids would be horrified. Tough, it’s only a ships that pass in the night thing.
He jogged in a circle. “Up to you, honey.” He waved, increased his speed and moved away.

you can get hold of Hong Kong Heat from Amazon, Kobo and Totally Bound

you can get hold of the other #MidWeekTease posts here

Happy Reading,

love Raven xx

Wednesday, 21 November 2018

#MidWeekTease, yes honestly

Hi all,

Well, that's if anyone reads this, because, let's face it, I've been conspicuous in my absence lately.

However I'm here today, it's raining, cold and still dark as I type so what better way to start the day than with #MidWeekTease



I'm in the middle of edits for my next book, Temptation due out in January, from Evernight Publishing.

This is the first book in a new Series, Isola Dei Sogni. An island in the middle of the Indian Ocean, where dreams and fantasies come true.

Think hot men, hot weather, shifters and intrigue.

The first book is about Meryl who goes because her friends want to. (Or so she says) Plus she thinks her sister could do with a break.

But the best laid plans etcetera...,

When a blast from the past appears, what next? In the words of The Clash..she has to ask herself..."should I stay or should I go now..."




(pic, source pinterest)

and your tease...


Meryl dropped the booklet like a red-hot coal, and it landed in a pool of the murky liquid. It couldn’t be. Why on Earth would the one guy—ha, guy, my butt—she wanted to avoid like the plague, be on the picture of a section in a brochure for a kick-ass luxury island resort? She was hallucinating. Had to be. Faint from lack of food. Going crazy from lack of sex … argh, enough already. Sex is not the be all and end all of life. Maybe not, but even a little bit of be and not the all would be good. As much as she’d like to deny it, her interest in anything that involved men was nigh on extinct, and women didn’t interest her in that way. It was, she had long decided, all the fault of a certain sort of human. One who looked very much like the man in the brochure now covered in coffee, with its pages crinkling and the inks running into each other.

Catch all the other #MidWeekTease

Happy reading,

love Raven xx