Sorry, Raven McAllan, but here you are. I'm so happy you stopped by my blog again!
Congratulations for your new book, Nash's Niche!
The week before a story is due to be published, the butterflies start. All the what ifs, and the what if nots come forth and multiply, and make me worry.
Until I wrote I thought I was a reasonably glass full person. Not this week I'm not. The week before publication I'm a mess. A one hundred doom and gloom half empty 'oh help no one will like it' mess.
Of course I know this is irrational, after all surely someone will like it.? The publishers did or I wouldn't be in this state.
And really, it’s a very excited state. I'm due to get my cover any hour, I'll get my files containing my copies of the book, and I'll start stalking the sites that monitor sales. Oh yes, and try to write in the middle of all of it.
Then it's the day. And I'll see this book, with my name, my name on it, on all those fab sales sites and I'll be honest, I'll get more than a wee bit teary. It doesn't matter if it’s the first or the fiftieth, I still do go all gooey inside. And do a mental high five to those who helped me. Because although the idea and the typing (or lack of) is me, to get this story from my head to yours is only possible with the help of a lot of people. From friends, everyone at the publishers, to the reader who hands over their hard earned cash. So it’s a very big high five and thank you.
Oh I'd better let you see what I'm getting all excited about.
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 their be a future for the star stuck lovers?
He wriggled his nose. The chair was all fine and dandy, but he needed his bed. With a sigh Nash toed his house shoes off, and looked at his pantaloons. They were knitted and stretched to fit the contours of his body. Therefore in theory they should pull down even over his still hard cock. It was no good; once he was able to rest in comfort he would have to take himself in hand. However, before then…
He struggled to his feet and with one hand to anchor him steady, he used his other to pull the garment over his cock and arse and thence down his legs. Once they gathered around his ankles, Nash used his feet to tug the pantaloons off and stepped over them. His shirt could stay. That was one effort too much. He measured the distance to the bed. Two strides should do it.
The first stride worked. The second was slightly longer and had him wobbling, but it brought him to the edge of the mattress. He let his body fall forward.
Not onto the mattress, on to…
A body? He tried to see clearly. Two bodies? Surely not, not in his bed. He squinted, put his hand into the direction of where he thought one of the bodies could be, and patted flesh. Soft warm female flesh. His vision wavered and cleared enough to know it was one body…
It stirred. Nash levered himself to stand on the floor one more, loath to leave the soft comfort he'd found, but aware enough to know he needed to. He let his hand move to the left and drift up what he decided was a damn curvaceous thigh. If only he could see clearly just who had offered herself as his plaything. It would be best to have a face on the body he was about to fuck.
The body jerked as his fingers circled damp curls and he nipped her soft nub until it hardened in a beautiful mimicry of his cock. Then he let his fingers delve into the warm channel under them. The body tried to pull back even as a soft mewl showed him his ministrations were appreciated. Then he heard a scream, one that most certainly wasn't a sound of pleasure.
"Do not move," he said in a rough voice. He felt it only fair to warn whoever he was now filling with his fingers, and who he noted was writhing in time to his thrusts, that, "I have a weapon, and I will use it."
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 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.
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.
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