#MidWeekTease with a first glimpse of Raig as he is now

Ooops, I was convinced it wasn't Wednesday and nearly didn't get this up.
But, now I know it is, Here's my #MidWeekTease...

Many moons ago, I had a book called The Price to Pay, published.

The rights were returned to me when that publisher folded. I've updated it, added about a quarter as much again, and it will be up for preorder on November 1st. That's less than two weeks. *Inserts happy face and a chair swivel jiggle*.

Now called Fairground Attraction it's Raig and Vairi's story.

So here's a wee tease out of it...

“Now then, Lorna’s mum. What will be your pleasure?”

Vairi rolled her eyes. “For you to cut the crap and that phony Irish accent, to be sure.” She mimicked him. “‘Tis as fake as that Rolex you’re wearing. Own up to whatever shit you and your co-conspirators have thought up, find me a taxi and pay for the bloody thing.” There was the stare again. “Give me a  break and don’t follow their well-meaning but unwelcome footsteps and try to”—she mimed quote marks—“make sure I have a good time, and show me what I’m missing. Seriously, I’m happy with my life and would be a lot happier without well-intentioned  people trying to change it,” she finished with a snap. “So thanks but no thanks whatever you’re about to suggest. Unless it’s to escort me to the taxi rank.”

Oh ho, feisty. “Ouch. Oh, a chuisle, you pain me, indeed you do.” Did he sound as wounded as he felt? “Not shit at all. The Rolex is as real as those deep blue eyes of yours.”

“Bugger.”

Her stern expression relaxed and he swore he could see how she fought with herself not to give in to humor. Hopefully she wasn’t so annoyed as she’d tried to project.

“Now if only I could say I wore colored lenses. However, like George Washington, I cannot tell a lie. So Mister…”

“O’Shea. Padraig O’Shea. And you?” He bent over her hand and kissed it. A soft butterfly kiss, full of promise. Theatrical, but what the hell, he meant it. He, who had always steered clear of commitment, of ladies who clung, demanded attachment and wanted more than this. He had no idea why, how, or when. Just that he did. Her laughter surprised and delighted him.

“Vairi McQueen.” Her voice held an absent tone. “Oh my God. Never. Paddy O’Shea. Next you’ll be telling me ‘indeed and there’s a leprechaun on my shoulder’.”

Catch all the other #MidWeekTease posts

 ~here~

Happy reading,

love, Raven x