New Release! Lord Suitor by Raven McAllan

LordSuitor-evernightpubishing-jayaheer2015-3DrenderThank you for inviting me onto your blog.

I consider myself very lucky.

I write what I love, Evernight publishes it, and people buy it and (hopefully) read it.

What more can I ask for?

I couldn’t not write and I especially love to write Regency Romance. And oh yes, Evernight lets me.

So we have the Cursed Treasure series.

A family whose fortune is cursed

A family whose fortune is almost gone, and have to manage very carefully.

A family whose grown up children decide to ignore the curse and make their fortune grow once more. They don’t want to be a burden.

Strangely (or not) this isn’t a paranormal story. Only the treasure is said to be cursed.

As the parchment with it says…

The heart of ye child be lifting the curse—dare ye risk it…

cursed treasure

(the prequel, Compromised, tells how Mijo escapes from France with the treasure, it’s a free read.)

Lord Suitor is Tessa’s story

A smuggler and an aristocrat. Who should Tessa chose?

Both professed their love for her, both intrigued her. How could she pick one over the other?

When Tessa was accosted by a smuggler her life took a turn for the better. Or so she thought. Until Nathaniel, Lord Fenniston indicated his interest in her. She had to marry to help her family, but her loyalties are torn.

Either man could be the one, but how can she decide? Torn between them, Tessa must think hard and fast.

Luckily, fate has it’s own way of deciding, and Tessa had no option but to do as it dictates.

A wee tease…

Her one night of bliss, her initiation, as she thought of it, had given her a very definite opinion of what she wanted, expected, from any marriage. However, and there was the rub, how could she say to someone, I’ll only marry you if you satisfy me in the way my smuggler did? You need to make my skin tingle, my insides quiver, and my body react in a way I never thought possible, so I shout and scream my release and beg you for more? Oh and your body, when it gains its own satisfaction inside me, has to react in the same way? It was not something she could introduce into everyday conversation. It wasn’t something most men would appreciate hearing. Men were such touchy creatures they wouldn’t see it as a compliment on their prowess, just the opposite.

Tessa stirred uneasily in her chair. During those long hours of enforced darkness, her highwayman had taught her some very interesting ways to satisfy herself. After the first few fumbling—and embarrassed at her temerity—attempts, she was happy with how to touch and tease herself until she was panting and sated. However, it wasn’t the same. It is not him.

Tonight though, she knew nothing she did would ease the ache deep inside her. The unexpected offer from Lord Fenniston had thrown her somewhat.

Why her? Oh, they were neighbors in Devon, but he had never shown any interest in her. In fact she hadn’t noticed him singling her out in any way, exactly the opposite. One occasional country dance did not show a partiality for anyone. They’d never waltzed, he’d never asked for her hand into supper, and never solicited her company at a picnic or to the theater. No, if anything, she would have thought he preferred Lady Elizabeth Cantor or Frederica Stowe. Nor did Tessa think he chose to spend time with those ladies as a smokescreen for his desire to have her as a wife. They were both too much all woman for that, and she was well aware neither would put up with such cavalier behavior.

Nor would I.

Somehow, Tessa accepted, as she stirred the glowing coals back into flames, Nathaniel Fenniston was not the sort of man to dissemble in that way. It wouldn’t be kind to either lady, and she didn’t think he would ever be deliberately unkind. No, he was an honorable man, but did that mean he was the man for her? Somehow, she needed to find out. On that sobering and complicated thought, she put the fireguard in place and took herself to bed.

Yet again she dreamed of her smuggler. She felt his hands on her as he showed her how to please both him and herself. Heard his voice as he praised her efforts and moaned his appreciation. Recalled and recreated in her dreams how his body stiffened and he shouted out his completion as he spilled onto her skin. Shivered and writhed as his lips met her quim and sucked on the soft flesh there and then drew the hard nub into his mouth. She gasped as her juices gathered, ready to help her fall over the edge of sanity and reason.

Tessa woke with a gasp to see the thin light of dawn creep around her curtains, and to feel the warmth and dampness of her arousal slick her skin. Her body tingled with awareness. Should she?

A quick glance at the timepiece on the mantel told her she had time enough to assuage her needs.

Tessa stretched out to fumble in her nearby sewing basket, to retrieve something she had secreted there.

A few days after her encounter with the smuggler she’d found a package in her bedside cabinet. She had no idea where it had come from, or who had placed it where she would see it so readily. The outside wrapper merely had her name on, and the cryptic message “for your eyes only.”

Puzzled she ripped the paper and unwrapped the fine lawn material that covered the contents. It was a smooth, wooden darning mushroom, with a note attached to it.

When she read the words, Tessa didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Inscribed in a very elegant hand it said: Close your eyes and run your fingers over this. Now imagine what it feels like and use it accordingly until we meet again.

Intrigued, Tessa had done as directed and discovered it was the perfect facsimile of a male staff. “Pego” her smuggler had called it as he taught her how to fondle and taste. At first she’d held it and stroked it, until her mind played games on her. A few nights later, her dreams included him, his pego, and his hands showing her how indeed a humble darning mushroom was the perfect substitute for a man. No, not perfect, she amended, adequate.

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Happy Reading

Love  R x

New Release! The Contract by Raven McAllan

Happy Memorial Day, everyone. My thoughts are with my FIL, today. He was a very proud Navy man.

I’m super stoked to have Raven McAllan here today with her brand new release. Wahoo! Take it away, Raven. 😀


Living in Scotland where summer can be one day in May, and the midges rule from June to September, give me somewhere warm any day. After all mozzies respond to repellent, I swear midges thumb their noses up at it.

I love to travel, and I like setting my books in places I know, so I guess it was inevitable that as I sat by a pool in Barbados I got the idea for this book. (Lot’s of ‘I’s’ in there, ooops, sorry.)

Hubby got used to me saying, stop the car while I take a photo, as we drove around, and then scribbling in a notebook, things I didn’t want to forget.

The upshot, is The Contract, now released by Evernight Publishing.


Walking out of her job was the best thing Nikki Plummer ever did. What she didn’t expect however, was to be tracked down by some hot bod, claiming she owed him.

Ruari Cameron has come to collect what he has paid for, but one look at Nikki, and there’s only one thing he wants. Her in every facet of his life.

Of course convincing Nikki of this might take some doing…but he’s more than ready to rise to the occasion.

Will they find their happy ever after under the Barbados sun?


This is how she got there…

(a wee tease)


“Go away, I’m not listening.” Nikki Plummer, often called Plum and she hated it, finished emptying her head-high cupboard and slammed the door—hard. Her boss moved back in a hurry to avoid her toes, knees, designer shoes, and anything else in the vicinity being pinched between the door and the jamb. Her numerous bracelets jangled as she did so, and seemed to add their displeasure to the wearer’s.

“Plum, don’t be silly, it was a mistake.”

There it was again. Did the stupid woman have no sense whatsoever? Plum was for signing her work, nothing else. Sheesh, she’d told everyone often enough, and most people accepted it.

Not this one.

The noise of a stiletto tapping impatiently on the parquet flooring only firmed Nikki’s mind up. Her boss could go to hell. The hard way. On her Manolos.

“No.” No to whatever you want. It’s over.

“You’re overreacting, like I said it’s all a silly mistake.” There was a definite note of panic in the voice now. “Plum, stop it and listen to me.”

Yeah, yours you bitch.

“No one called Plum around here.” Nikki checked her desk drawer. She removed three pens, a diary, and her hot as Hades red lipstick and threw them in her kitchen sink-sized bag. Satisfied there was nothing more lurking in a corner, she grabbed her sprint from the underground—fondly known as The Clockwork Orange—ballet flats and stood up. Anything else? Not that she wanted or needed anyway. The rest of the stuff came with the job and could stay with it.

The feeling, the glorious feeling of liberation kicked in. Nikki zipped her bag and put on her jacket.

“Nikki, for god’s sake stop this nonsense.” The voice rose to a screech just one notch short of shattering glass. The panic in it was evident. “Stop being a drama queen and vying for notice.” The other five or six people in the office gave up their pretense of not earwigging and listened openly.

Nikki winced at the shrill tone. “No one could ever even think of vying for attention, Geraldine, in here,” she said calmly, knowing her even note and lack of concern would infuriate the other woman. “Yours or anyone else’s. You command the field in that respect, even down to your own attention, weird though it sounds. Luckily I neither want nor need it. Not now. You fired me, I’m out of here.”

Geraldine Butters stared at her. “I was joking.”

At the back of the room someone coughed, ‘bullshit’.

“You should know I didn’t mean what I said. It was said in jest.” Now the voice was full of panic. “Take off your jacket, put down your bag and get on with that project. I need it by the end of the month. Only you can do it.”

Now we’re getting to the crux of the matter. The project, whatever it is and your lack of ability. Well tough. Too bad, that’s one joke that misfired on you then.

“Don’t care, too late, goodbye.”

“You little bitch, you’ll pay for this. I gave you a job, I sorted your mess…”

That was the last straw. Nikki picked up the waste paper basket, full of sweet wrappers, old take away coffee cups as well as torn bits of paper, old train tickets, and all the detritus of a busy office and upended it over Geraldine’s head.


Raven photo smaller pic May 15 copyA multi-published, best selling author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband, in a house much too big for them—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.

She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

http:/ /        (my page)            (author page)


Spotlight: His Boss Her Dom by Raven McAllan


His Boss Her Dom

by Raven McAllan

Released: January 27, 2015

Buy Links:


Having a relationship with your boss is never easy, especially when it involves kink. Jamie might need to salute Eva and call her Ma’am at work, but when it’s just the two of them, he is Master to his puss.

They are determined to make their unusual situation work, but, first they have to solve the case of the shady next door neighbors.


Every fiber of her subbie being wanted to kneel and ask to submit to him. But as the letter told her she was to take another week’s leave, and have a ‘dalliance’ with the new postie, she’d need to be careful. A dalliance in the name of work was one thing. A dalliance because she wanted to submit to him was another. She was still his superior officer, and in charge of this case, or whatever they chose to call it. Case was a bit of a misnomer. All she’d mentioned was a lot of very expensive top of the range cars were driving up the lane, and the same cars weren’t coming back. It seemed that had interested some people in the force, hence Jamie the new postie, who filled his uniform rather nicely.

Mind you if I remember rightly, he fills his police one to perfection as well. Shit he’s young though. Cougar is okay, right? Well it doesn’t matter in the lifestyle so sod it. But this isn’t the lifestyle or Dommissimma. She put the dog down and watched abstractedly, as he turned around in circles and settled in his basket. Then she went on with her internal argument.

Damn it, does dalliance cover a bit of subbing? Probably not, more’s the pity. And he doesn’t recognize me anyway. It was probably just as well. To be the superior to the guy who had you almost bare ass naked strapped over a spanking bench and flogging you until you flew, could cause a few problems. Best not to bring it up unless he did. Not until after. If, she thought despondently, there was any chance of an after. He might throw a wobbly because she hadn’t been open and honest with him. After all, he was a Dom, and even in the short time she’d played with him in Dommissimma, the BDSM club she went to in Glasgow whenever she got the chance—which wasn’t often—she knew damn well he was a good one.

Why is life so bloody complicated? Oh fuck it. Eva decided it was time to pull up her big girl panties and get over her mump. She’d always been a sub, never wanted to be a Domme, and was happy and comfortable with that. However that part of her was separate from her work persona where she was in charge. There she was his superior officer—even if only for the time being—and she couldn’t forget it.

Later, was later, as her cliché-ridden boss had a penchant for saying, along with, ‘now was now’, and ‘no time like the present’. As well as ‘priorities take precedent’. Which was so bloody obvious that Eva always wanted to snigger when she heard him utter it.

She rummaged in the fridge and found the ingredients to make paella. If Jamie didn’t like seafood he could have a quiche. The garlic made her pause for a second, but not to put it in, on the off chance of getting close up and personal, was stupid. It was work, not play of any kind. However, just thinking about playing with Jamie, Master Jamie, made her knickers wet. Eva gave into temptation, put the paella in the bottom, simmering oven of the Aga and took herself upstairs for a short and fast session with her bullet. It took three climaxes before she was sobbing and spent and slumped limply on the bed. The memories of his crop on her ass, and the tight nipple clamps he attached to her nubs, and linked them with a chain he attached to her clit and pulled on to apply pain, featured in most of her wet dreams and climax inducing fantasies. This had been no exception. Her pussy was soaked and her juices coated her thighs and the fingers she’d used to help her bullet, and increase stimulation. The pulse between her cunt and ass throbbed hard and with each beat, more of her juices spurted out. She hadn’t come so hard, or needed to, for many a long month. Work had been so demanding the nearest she’d had to a wet dream had been falling asleep in the bath.

Now, with the reappearance of Jamie, it seemed that her libido roared back with a vengeance. She could only hope it stayed that way, and every climax wasn’t a solo one.


Well what can I say?

I’m growing old disgracefully and loving it.

Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle Ravenaround in a house much too big for us.

Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.

I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I’m often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I’m not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.

Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.


http:/ / (my page) (author page)

Inside Look with Raven McAllan author of Nina’s Dom

Click to see all the Inside Looks here at SJs

Please help me welcome Raven McAllan back to my blog today. She’s brought with her a tease from her latest release, Nina’s Dom. First, she’s going to tell us a bit about how the story came together. Enjoy!


It’s funny how my characters tell me very firmly who they are, what they are and insist I write just that. No trying to change them. It just won’t work.

By trial and error, I’ve now accepted that.

Nina and Dominic were no exception. In fact I wondered at times if they would ever get together, they were so blooming stubborn.

However they had fun trying to show each other whom they were and want they wanted.

I just wrote what they told me to—as you do.

This is the result.


Nina Mack is no sub. So why then do all her senses scream at her to submit to the enigmatic Dominic Christopher?

When the two meet at her friend’s hen party at Dommissimma, sparks fly. Their attraction is immediate and explosive, but how can Nina ever allow herself to enter into a relationship with a Dom?

Dominic has lost interest in BDSM since the death of his wife, so the insistent tug of awareness toward the volatile and decidedly bratty Nina is a welcome surprise.

With his inner Dom firmly awakened can he convince Nina to give their relationship a try?

Time will tell if these two can find their own Dom/sub relationship and reclaim happiness.

Be Warned: BDSM, wax play, public exhibition

A wee tease…

“Breathe, anima mia, watch the wax, see how it comes to caress you. Take the sting, let it into you, let it flow.”

That was the only warning she had. Nina opened her eyes, and looked upward to see Nic, wax candle in one hand, tilt it so the flame stood at an angle from the candle. Then like a raindrop on a windowpane, a tiny teardrop gathered and slid towards her.

Nina couldn’t take her eyes off it. For what seemed an aeon the wax dropped through the air, and then it kissed her skin.

She hissed as the kiss turned into a pain so intense she wanted to scream. How the hell could anyone say it was pleasure? She bit her lip to stop the cuss words spilling out. If it hadn’t been the look of total absorption on Nic’s face as he twisted his hand to increase the speed of the droplets and create a cobwebby pattern over her shoulders and the swell of her breasts, Nina knew damned well she’d have cried red. She held her breath to stop the pain spreading.

“Breathe, anima mia, let it fill you. Now.” The last word was harsh. It broke into her panic, and Nina let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The candle flame wavered as the whoosh of air she expelled reached it, and she looked at it in dismay. It couldn’t go out, not now, not when…

When there was no pain. Just a radiant heat that spread over her skin, and dipped deep inside her. She smiled, licked her lips and cleared her throat, as Nic steadied the candle flame and stared down at her, his eyes watchful, his expression showing a tiny hint of vulnerability, and, she decided, pleading.

“More, Sir. I want more.”

He smiled. “Topping from the bottom, anima mia?”

“You bet.”

“In that case.” He tilted the candle again.

She flew. Every sting, every tap of pain became pleasure. Nina had no idea when Nic ceased his twist and drip act with the candle, until she felt the ties on her arms and legs removed, and she was snuggled in a blanket on Nic’s lap.

He stroked her hair as she sighed, and blinked a few times. The room was still in shadow, and silent. Any watchers had either left or were being very quiet.


Nina considered. Was good the right word? It seemed too mild for what she’d just experienced. Her body buzzed with tiny darts of pleasure, and her brain was fuzzy, as if she’d eaten too much, and drunk one glass too many. But in a perfect sated, complete way. As a sub when she had played before, she’d never ever felt so deeply. Never lost her sense of surroundings or what was happening. This time had been oh so different.

“I don’t know that good is the right word, Sir.” She yawned and put her hand over her mouth. She could sleep for a week if she had the chance. “Good is too weak. I’ve never felt like that. I floated, I felt, and I just let myself be.” She hesitated, unsure of how to express that feeling of rightness. “Be part of the pleasure that the pain gave me. Nothing mattered except knowing you were giving me the experience. That my Sir wanted me to gain all of it and more. That I pleased my Sir.”

Nic’s arms tightened around her.

“Oh you pleased me, anima mia. More than that. You gave your all. What more could a Dom want but to see his pet, his partner, his anima mia fly?”

Where you can find Nina’s Dom

Inside Look with Raven McAllan author of Livvy’s Devil Dom

click to see all the Inside Looks at SJsI have a treat for you today. The charming Raven McAllan is back and this time she’s sharing one of her first ever stories that’s been revamped and released through Evernight Publishing. I have one word to describe this post. Yum! Be warned this story is going to hook you. Wait till you see the cover too. It’s cool. Take it away, Raven.

When this book first came into being, it was somewhat different. It was one of the first stories I wrote and was published by a now defunct publishing house. When I got my rights back, I looked at it and thought hmmm, not bad but could do better.

So I got stuck in fell in love with Sael all over again, realized the dilemma Livvy had and listened to them telling me how they resolved it—or not.

To be honest I hadn’t realized how hot it is, or how much I enjoyed seeing how much their two worlds collided. Even I had to find out how their basic ideals were the same but oh so different and what their basic dilemma shows about their heritage. It’s a love story, yes, but it’s also good versus bad, and different lifestyles traditions and well… I’ll not give too much away, except the title says it all.

Sael isn’t a traditional devil, oh no he’s both more and less. Is this as clear as mud? But do I have you intrigued? I do hope so.

This is the blurb…

Livvys Devil Dom cover - click to see on GoodreadsWhen Livvy releases the devil within, he comes with sex that is out of this world—and the small matter of a life or death and decision. As for Sael, he has never met a more ornery or sexy as hell human than formerly-vanilla teacher, Livvy.

She belongs to him, for now, and this devil Dom will try everything in his power to ensure she stays his.

He needs her complete submission to survive, but even if she gives it, will it be a happy-ever-after or hell on earth?


See what I mean? No one in their right mind is going to turn down spectacular sex, surely. But you see everything comes at a cost, and the cost here might just be too much.

Here’s a wee tease for you…

One year ago

“Come for me.” His voice was soft, persuasive, like liquid silver that slid over her skin and into her mind. Livvy stirred and moaned.

“What?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard right.

“Come for me. Put your fingers inside yourself, and then use your wetness to rub your clit, touch your nipples, and make yourself come. You know you want to. So do it now.”

His tone was mesmeric, and it compelled her to respond.

I want to? Well, her body did. Her pussy got wetter as he spoke, and her nipples puckered under the silky top she wore. Before she realized what she was doing, she began to do as he asked. God, she was wet, achingly so. Her clit throbbed for a touch, her nipples stood proud and hard, and her body became alert and primed.

“Why?” she asked. She opened her eyes—not a dream then—and her heart missed a beat.

He looked at her, the twinkle in his eyes at odds with the seriousness of his face. She had never seen a man so beautiful, with long black hair and deep blue eyes that touched her soul. A sear of heat crossed her skin, and she ached to feel his long, elegant fingers on her body.

“Because where we’re going, you’ll to have to trust me totally. If you do this, I’ll know you do. This is giving yourself to me utterly, letting me see you as you come, see you at your most vulnerable. And”—he paused—”it’ll turn me on.”

Yeah, that’s more like it. She continued the steady strokes inside herself. If anyone told me I’d play with myself because someone asked me to, I’d have said they were doo-lally. And I’m doing it. She’d sort out the whys and wherefores afterwards. After what Livvy didn’t think about.

“So, if I do, are you going to do the same?” she asked.

“Oh, my pleasure.” He rubbed his cock as he spoke, and those clever fingers circled and moved over his skin. She couldn’t keep her eyes off his actions. They mesmerized her. “I’ll come for you, all over you. But be warned, each drop of cum that falls on your body, each tiny drop marks you as mine, and you know what that means, don’t you?”

Do I? She thought about it. “No.”

“Well, are you ready to find out? Find what is in the recesses of your soul? See what you release in me? Other than semen?”

Was she?

Oh, yeah.


Poor Livvy, she’s no idea has she? Mind you she’s soon going to find out all about the devil inside the recess of your soul, and whether he’s good or bad.

I suppose it does depend on your definition of good and bad though doesn’t it? After all surely everyone likes a bit of bad boy in their Dom…

But—A Devil Dom? Hmm that could well be a different matter…

If you like Sael and Livvy’s story, you can purchase it here


Be Warned: BDSM, spanking, anal play, public exhibition, horn sex

If you want to know more about Raven, here’s her nosy links,

Raven Lives in Scotland with her own special fella, who she admits does have a bit of a devil in him at times. Their children have flown the nest, and as she says, her Raven's Avatarand hubby rattle around in a house much too big for them. However as it’s on the edge of a forest and local visitors include Red Squirrels, Deer, and the occasional lost tourist, not to mention people looking for the nearby B and B, they and their two cats are loath to move.

She can never remember not reading or writing, and her dolls were very long suffering, as they listened to her meanderings. If you want learn more, her nosy links are all to be found on her website.

A Look Inside Raven McAllan and Nash’s Niche

I have a treat for you today. I have the charming Raven McAllan and she’s going to give us a look inside why she’s writing Regency and her latest release in the Behind Closed Doors series, Nash’s Niche. Enjoy! 🙂

If you told me two years ago I’d be writing Regency stories, and loving it I may well have scratched my head. Oh I enjoyed reading them, but write them? Mind you I guess I’d’ve said that about writing anything. I was so not sure. It’s one thing ‘writing’ in your mind, another actually typing those words out. Like lots of things, it was a ‘one day’ scenario.

Then one day I knuckled down, got researching, got hooked, and got writing!

I love the depth of mystery in that period. It might look regimented and staid, but like most things, there are hidden depths, and oh my are those depths murky in places.

This book Nash’s Niche is book four in the Behind Closed Doors series, about the Brigstock family. A most unusual family, with more murky depths than most. Convention hardly touches them, and when it does it ends up unconventional.

Nash is the third son, and one who family decree and history said should became a cleric. As Nash himself says, he couldn’t think of anyone less suited to go into the Church. Instead he runs a hunt in Rutland, and tries to keep out of mischief’s way. He doesn’t succeed.

Felicity is on the run from what’s expected of her. As ever in Regency times, no one listens to what a young lady wants. But she’s going to fight for it. I really understood how difficult it must be for her, and oh boy did I want her to be happy. Is she? You’ll have to read the book to find out 🙂

Nash coverNash’s Niche

Behind Closed Doors, 4

by Raven Mcallen


A chance meeting at a masked ball leads to explosive and unforgettable sex for both Nash and Felicity.

Reunited under dangerous circumstances, they realize they may have to fight for their love, especially when Felicity is promised to Nash’s brother.

With the future of the country at stake and unsure who to trust, can there be a future for the star stuck lovers?

And a wee tease…

Felice—he thought of her by that name—let herself be ushered toward the house. Once inside Nash turned toward the hallway, where a lamp burned low, awaiting his return.

“Would you like to leave your cloak?” She shook her head.

“Your mask? Your dress?”

She laughed. “No, no and no, not here.”

He slung his cloak over a chair. “Then after you, it’s to the right at the top of the stairs.” He lifted the lamp to show them the way.

Madame Felice nodded and gathered the hem of her cloak and dress up, which gave him a perfect view of pair of trim and shapely ankles.

“If you raise your skirts further, perhaps I could see your arse as well as your feet?” he said in a deep voice. “It would appeal to my baser instincts.”

She took the first three steps and turned to look over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have though you were so jaded as to need titillating, My Lord.”

“Minx.” He couldn’t help but admire her retort. “I don’t need stimulating, but your arse does need tanning. I will take great pleasure in watching it turn the color of your lips.”

Her lips parted and a soft sigh escaped. Her face suffused with color. “What?” She turned away and continued up the staircase. Nash noticed a little more of her legs were now visible, and then a quick flash of a garter. His lady was teasing. They would see just who teased whom before long. He took the stairs two at a time to catch her up, and then opened the bedroom door, to usher Madame Felice inside.

“We won’t be disturbed until I ring,” he said as he put the lamp down and lit another one. He wanted to see his lady in all her nakedness. “Now strip.”

Would his crude and blunt demand appeal or repulse her?

She smiled and undid her cloak. “You will need to play ladies maid, my lord. I didn’t expect to undress without one.”

That was something Nash could do. His cock protested that it was ignored and hardened to such a degree that he wanted to take it to hand and give himself some relief there. Instead, Nash stroked his lady’s neck and rejoiced in her tiny erotic quiver as he began to undo a row of diminutive buttons, which stretched from the nape of her neck to the enticing cleft in her arse. The dress undone and in a swirl of silk at her feet, Nash began on the ties of her petticoat, pleased her body was such that she didn’t need a corset. When he reached her chemise, Madame Felice shivered.

“I can finish. I feel distinctly underdressed here.”

“The mask,” he reminded her.

Her hand went to her face. “The mask stays,” she said firmly. Nash decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. He’d undo it later. Once she was in the throes of passion, she wouldn’t realize what he was doing.

He bowed, and pressed a series of nipping kisses to the nape of her neck. She shuddered and moaned.

“My Lord … ah … that sends such feelings through me.”

“Good. Take off your chemise and get into bed whilst I disrobe. Then I’ll show you what other feelings I can give you.” He’d never shrugged out of evening wear so fast, and even used a jack for his boots. By the time Felice had slipped her chemise off, and he’d had a brief glimpse of rounded thighs and a perfect globe of her arse, he was naked alongside her. “Wait,” he said hoarsely. “I need to taste.” Before she had a chance to ask what he meant, Nash held both her hands in one of his, bent his head and suckled each nipple in turn. Her keening cry was enough to make his juices gather at the tip of his engorged cock.

He lifted his head with reluctance. “On the bed, lie on your back and spread your legs for me. If you don’t want this, now is the time to say so.” He waited, his body tight with anxiety less she did say ‘no more’. She didn’t.

Nash’s Niche is available from

Evernight, Amazon, All Romance EBooks, and Bookstrand

If you want to know more about Raven, here’s her nosy links,

Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the Raven's Avatarsettings in her books.

She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.

A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she’s strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.

Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

You can find out more about Raven here…

http:/ /        (my page)            (author page)

Spotlight on Leave Taking by Angelica Dawson in Serviced: Volume 1

 200x300Serviced: Volume 1

Publisher: Breathless Press
Released: March 1st 2013
Word Count: 65,386

All’s fair in love and war, they say. Come find out if it’s true in these ten stories where soldiers prove that their skills in the field are only rivaled by their skills in the bedroom.

For One Night Only by Allie A Burrow
Over A Dead Body by Leona Bushman
Reds, Whites, and Blues by Mickey J. Corrigan
Leave Taking by Angelica Dawson
First Date  The Italian Colonel by Jesabelle Jones
Major’s Minah by Raven McAllan
Knock Out by Natalia Petrovskii
A Chance At Love by Shelli Rosewarne
Taking Command by Zara Stoneley
Riding Out the Storm by Natalia Petrovskii


EXCERPTLeave Taking by Angelica Dawson

A smile spread over my face and I closed the door quietly behind me, setting my duffel on the floor. Unless I missed my guess, Dani was upstairs singing in the bathtub. I had dreamed of her leaping into my arms at the door, but fate had given me a better surprise. I twitched in my pants as I pulled off my boots, thinking about her with each note and splash coming from the bathroom. I padded up the stairs.

“I don’t want, anybody else. When I think about you, I touch myself…”

I bit hard on my knuckles to keep from making a sound. The first muffle was laughter. The second was a groan as I peeked through the crack in the door. Danielle was shaving her legs, careful quick strokes down each long white limb. I sighed and adjusted myself. God, she had beautiful legs. I didn’t want to startle her while she had the blade in her hand.

The whole time she kept on singing with the music. “When I’m feeling down, I want you above me.”Oh, I was going to be above her all right. She was soaping her arms now and I didn’t mind giving her a little scare. I yanked the door open and she screamed, plunging her head under the water.

The Divinyls continued to touch themselves while I chortled and lunged to the tub, sitting on its edge despite the water coming over the side.

Dani’s head came up at the sound of my laugh. “Will! You scared the shit out of me! Don’t you ever… You’re home!” She jumped out of the tub to hug me, knocking us both to the tiled floor.

I kept laughing, nearly as wet as she was, holding her as she kissed my face.

“You don’t have to touch yourself anymore, honey,” I told her, still laughing. “I’ll be happy to do it for you.”


Breathless Press |  Amazon 


Angelica Dawson is the author of Blue Moon House and contributor to two anthologies, Campus Sexploits 3 and Serviced 1. Although her job as an environmental consultant makes her no stranger to the blood sucking hoards, she has been disappointed to find they are only mosquitoes and black flies instead of vampires.

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