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


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...

~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