Welcome Raven and thank you for honoring my blog with the release of your new book, The Tattoo Artist’s Mate. I know you have much to say about how the book came to be and your relationship with your friend Doris. Before you go on, I’d like to add a brief a personal note:
Though we may or may not realize it, to those of us who were touched by Doris’ loving and sometimes honest, critical critique-hand (a writer could never ask for better or more) her own writing and creativity will live on in each and every story we produce. She was one in a million, and she is dearly missed. ~ Kory Steed
Hi there and thank you for welcoming me to your blog, on this bittersweet occasion. (this is Raven)
As most people know, my bestie, the sister I’d never had, the other half of me, the lovely Doris O’Connor passed away in January from Cancer of an unknown primary.
To say this knocked me for six is an understatement. We knew it wasn’t going to be a good outcome, but it happened so fast. Those of you who followed her on Facebook and twitter will know how it went.
Ironically, she rang me to tell me, just as I was…at a large supermarket collecting for cancer research!
When she went into hospital she was in pain and bored. Nagging me over my Regencies (finish it already, write the sex, just do it) and wondering how to pass the time.
I remember a germ of an idea we’d had a couple of years ago about a tattoo artist who was a shifter. Wrote the first bit and sent it to her with a note…over to you…
I got a giggle gif and a thumbs up. Then Doris’ words. It was, I was told up to me to amalgamate everything.
So the Skype messages went back and forth, and we plotted the story, wrote it both in sequence and odd scenes we knew had to go in somewhere.
Until the time she was in too much pain to write any more. But she did make me promise to finish the book. Add as much as was needed, but finish it.
So I did.
This is the result of our collaboration.
I have two hope…okay three.
One, you enjoy it,
Two you can’t see the seams,
Three we sell lots and lots and lots and give Doria a fabulous bwst seller send off.
When Isla Campbell leaves her so-called Dom, she is determined never to sub again. All she wants is her tattoo removed and to live a quiet life with no dominant, or domineering men in it.
Until she meets Gaspar MacDonald, tattoo artist and unbeknown to her, a bear shifter.
Isla calls to Gaspar in the most basic of ways, he knows she is his mate.
Now all he has to do is persuade Isla of that fact. Oh and explain he’s a Dom, and a shifter, and that subbing for your Dom is not what she thought it was, but much better.
Will Isla trust him enough to discover if they have what would be the perfect match?
Fancy a wee tease?
Here you go…
~~ . I didn’t get a chance to answer. I was too busy trying not to come as he kissed and then sucked my nipples, and saints above, began to play with my clit. Oh Lordy, so bloody good. I think I moaned, but to be honest, I was drowning in the sensation so I had no idea.
Somehow, I managed to find his cock and stroke it. It was Noah’s turn to moan now.
“Fuck it, I want to be in you. Need to be in you, and I’ve no bloody condoms.” He moved away a bit and I took advantage of the fact to get onto my knees, take his cock into my mouth, and lave it.
Not a boy scout then.
“On the pill,” I mumbled around a mouthful of hot, hard, but soft as silk, male flesh. “Clean, and fuck it, fill me.” I took one long hard pull on his dick and let go with a plop. Better than an ice lolly any day.
Noah didn’t hesitate, thank goodness, and had me on my back and his cock poised at the entrance to my channel faster than I could say climax.
“Got to be now, love.”
Just as well.
He pushed. I clenched my inner muscles—thank goodness for Kegel exercises—and held him tight. Noah swore and laughed. I grinned and we set up that age-old motion of in, out, tighten, release until I felt him swell even more inside me.
My nipples hurt in the best possible way.
“Sheesh, now got to be, oh Lord, help please…” I was almost incoherent, sobbing, throbbing, and any other ing you could mention. It was pleasure, it was pain, it was…
“Now!” Noah roared, and his hot, sticky release filled me.
“Yes.” I let myself fly and saw stars as my climax hit me with all the subtlety of a baseball hit by a champion.
Yeah, I was a screamer. Did I care? Not one bit. I moaned, groaned, and wriggled as well. Loved it all.~~
Welcome Elyzabeth and congratulations on your new BDSM, dark romance release, Open (Lust, Love and Darkness).
What would you like readers to take away from your story? Does it contain a message?
I think most of my books, be they fantasy, paranormal, or contemporary, contain some kind of message.
In the case of Open, there are little messages throughout the story but the big one, as the title suggests, (and other than the eroticization of the word), is that you have to open yourself up to new experiences, adventure, people and love. No one said it was easy though.
Where did you find your inspiration for the story? Was it a person, a current event, something you witnessed, or something else?
Author Doris O’ Connor was my inspiration for this story.
Back in January. I’d been working with a group of other authors on an anthology for her. Doris had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and we had decided to put together a collection of BDSM stories to help her and her family in any little way we could. While I was writing Entwined, my collaboration in the anthology, my muse started whispering about Marcus and a three book dark BDSM romance series which had to be written.
Doris’ star genre was BDSM and though she never got to see the publication of Passion, Pleasure, Pain, Anthology nor hear about Open (Lust, Love and Darkness), I like to think she would have enjoyed reading them.
She was always supportive of my writing and will always be an inspiration to me.
How much emphasis do you put on supporting characters to move the plot of your stories along? Have any of your supporting characters ever gotten their own story?
It really depends on the story. Some supporting characters have more weight than others and some have gotten their own story. For instance, in Max’s Desire, Killian’s action prompts a lot of what brings Max face to face with his mate.
Other secondary characters are mentioned in passing but hold a big weight within the story. That’s the case with Becky in Open. Book two of the Lust, Love and Darkness series is going to be about her.
What is your writing process? Are you a patnser or a plotter, or a little of both?
I used to be more of a pantster, but lately I’ve come to realize I’ve become a bit of both. I tend to come up with a single scene, then work from there by just writing. As a write, I outline where I think the book should go, but a lot of the time that all changes and I end up with a completely different idea of what I had originally thought.
In the case of Open I first came up with the series idea, and Marcus’ character. He was dominant, and he clearly knew what he wanted: Gabi, mouth open, lips around his… You get the picture. From there though, the way he went around to achieve things changed from want, want, want now, to a man who knew what he wanted but also had an insurmountable amount of patience and would wait for the woman of his dreams to be ready to give herself to him.
What do you do in your down time to feed your soul?
In my down time, I enjoy sleeping, reading, watching the occasional cartoon on TV (I’m a huge Disney fan), playing with my dogs and just hanging out with family and friends.
What’s next on your literary horizon?
I just signed a contract for Killian’s Hope, book 4 of my paranormal-fantasy series, Alpha Protectors, and I’m already working on book 2 of Lust, Love and Darkness.
One day she’d be his.
Almost a decade ago, Marcus Grimes worked as a bodyguard to a man who didn’t deserve the woman he’d had. When she finally left, Marcus vowed to eventually find her and make her his.
The time is now.
Marcus runs into Gabi at a BDSM club, indulging in a different partner every week but never really exploring beyond the mere superficial. She doesn’t remember him, and he convinces her to give him a chance.
All she has to do is open.
After leaving an abusive relationship, Gabi moved cities and reinvented herself. Now, she’s confident and capable of playing with any Dom she sees fit without compromising herself or her emotions.
Until she meets Marcus Grimes.
There is something familiar about him, which should have stopped her, but instead spurs her on, and before she realizes it, Marcus is not only opening her body to his exploration, he’s also delving into her heart.
However, when their mutual past comes to light and everything she’s fought for during the last eight years is jeopardized, will she close herself off again or will she give love an opportunity?
Marcus sipped at his soda, wishing it were something stronger so his libido would subside. Who was he kidding? Looking at her would get him aroused regardless of the amounts of alcohol he drank.
She was perfect. Everything he’d ever fantasized about: luscious curves, ample bottom, tits which would fit his hands, and a mouth made for sucking and screaming out his name.
Gabi. Her last name was of no consequence. Neither was her first name. Years ago, he’d known her as Abby. What mattered was that when he made her his, he’d refer to her as “kitten”. He’d called her it once, by accident. The term had come naturally. Back then, she had been vulnerable, small, like an abandoned pet. Now, however, he stood in the presence of a different type of cat. She was graceful, strong, seductive.
Unfortunately, unlike cats, which tended to be more snobbish when it came to choosing an owner, Gabi played with just about everyone. She was a regular at the BDSM club where he’d found her. One night, he’d see her getting a spanking, the next, a caning, and another day, she was being whipped. There didn’t seem to be anything Gabi wouldn’t try, except sticking with the same partner. She had a different Dom every weekend, playing with them at a distance, never really giving in to the experience. He knew why, and he was determined to change it. Starting tonight.
Currently, she was tied to the Saint Andrew’s cross, and Master Eric was giving her a good flogging. The Dom played her like an instrument, knowing exactly where to hit to make her skin tingle but not bruise. Marcus scowled. When they played, he’d make sure to mark her so every time she sat down, she would remember him and how her body had yielded to her Dom’s touch.
Marcus downed the last of his drink and moved closer to the cross. It’d been close to eight years since he’d last seen her. Eight years. He sometimes thought they had been wasted years, but deep down, he knew they hadn’t. After what she’d gone through, she’d needed the time to heal and become the person she was now.
In all that time, he’d never stopped wanting her. He’d been incapable of erasing her from his mind even after he’d lost track of her whereabouts. And then, fate had thrown her in his path. He’d finally decided to join the BDSM community in the city, and he’d found her. Here of all places. In his city.
One look at her and he’d made up his mind. Gabi would be his. Permanently this time. He’d bided his time, investigating her present, trying to find out more about who she was today. Every weekend for the past month, he’d come to the club and watched her. He’d leave with a hard-on and a desperate craving to claim her.
Tonight would be different. Eric was almost done, each stroke of the flogger turning into a caress until it came to a full stop. Gabi shuddered and hung her head. Marcus stiffened. Was she okay? Eric seemed to think the same because he hurried forward and whispered in her ear. Gabi nodded. Eric chuckled. Giving her ass a light tap, he began to undo the restraints.
Marcus clenched his fists. Soon, he’d be the only one spanking Gabi’s behind. He waited patiently for them to finish. His heart hammered in his chest, and sweat gathered at his nape. He hadn’t been so on edge in years.
Finally, Gabi became free and turned around. Marcus’s breath caught. She wasn’t naked, but she didn’t need to be to get his dick hardening. He focused on her mouth. Wide with plump lips. How many times had he fantasized about having them around his dick? Fucking her mouth. Marcus swallowed a groan.
Eric blocked his view, stepping in front of Gabi to give her a hug. She smiled politely, but there was no affection in her gaze. She was merely being civil. Marcus smirked. They wouldn’t end their sessions with a friendly pat. Finally, Eric left. Before Gabi could also leave, Marcus approached her. She saw him coming, her gaze narrowing and her lips parting into a coquettish smirk. He couldn’t wait to make it sincere.
“That’s me. What can I call you, handsome?”
“Marcus will do for now.”
She pouted, feigning disappointment.
“Shame, I thought you were a Dom.”
Marcus grinned. “I am.”
“And you don’t want me to call you Sir or Master? Do you prefer Daddy?” She ran her fingertips across his forearm making goosebumps sprout on his flesh. Marcus pulled away.
“If the men you’ve been playing with require you call them Sir after barely ten seconds of interaction, you’ve been hanging around the wrong people.”
She shrugged, her gaze dipping then just as quickly meeting his again.
“So, why are we having this conversation, Marcus?”
“I would like to play with you.”
Gabi quirked an eyebrow. “And you don’t want me to call you ‘Sir’?”
“Well, I’m done for today, so maybe next time,”
He grabbed her wrist. Her eyes blazed.
“In a minute, kitten.”
“Don’t call me that. I didn’t give you the right.”
“Forgive me,” Marcus apologized. “You’re right.” He stepped into her personal space, forcing her to tilt her head to look at him even though she wasn’t much shorter. “You have to understand, Gabi, I don’t want to play with you right now. I want to get to know you a bit before I make you kneel at my feet, open up that pretty little mouth of yours and stuff it with my cock until you gag.”
Welcome again Raven. I’m so pleased to host your new Regency Romance Novel, The Dom Who Said Please. What a wonderful gift you’ve created for out dear, late friend, Doris O’Connor.
Hi there, and thank you for inviting me onto your blog.
I’m so excited to be able to tell you a little bit about my new release from Evernight Publishing, The Dom Who Said Please.
As I’m sure you all know the lovely author Doris O’Connor lost her battle with cancer earlier this year. She was like a sister to me. My husband and I are honorary grandparents to her children, and we spoke every day. Even though we lived at opposite ends of the country we got together regularly.
She always said she loved my Regencies more than anything else so I started writing this for her, when she went into hospital. Sadly she didn’t get to read the end, but I’d told her the plot and she approved.
I hope it works for you as well.
Widow Eleanor Charter knows one thing. She does not want to marry again.
Especially not to someone forceful and dominant.
So why is Theo Moncur, the Earl of Glensmoor interested in her?
As far as she is concerned any man who considers himself dominant, whether he is or not, will play no part in her life. She will be in charge of her life.
Dominant Theo doesn’t have marriage on his mind.
Having given his mistress her congé, his growing attraction toward Eleanor makes him wonder if she would fill that place.
He sees something in her, that appeals.
The lady would be a perfect submissive—not that she agrees.
However the more he gets to know her, the more he understands she is the only lady for him.
Now all he has to do is persuade Eleanor to agree.
And a wee tease
Theo dipped his head, took her nub in his mouth, ignored her shriek and the way she clutched his head, and sucked. Before he thought she would have time to assimilate that experience, he nipped each nipple in turn, settled himself between her legs, and then draped her ankles over his shoulders. A position that would give him ease of penetration and her the ability to grip on.
“Arse not too sore?” he asked.
“What?” She sounded puzzled. “Oh no. Not at all.”
“Good.” He angled the head of his cock at the entrance to her channel and pushed inside her. A scant inch at first, before he withdrew, and she gasped.
“Is that it?”
He rejoiced in the sound of her disappointment.
“Not at all.” He repeated the movement over and over, delving deeper with each thrust until he reached the barrier of her maidenhead. “This is where it will hurt. Any pain after this is for pleasure only. I promise.” He withdrew, re-entered her slick smoothness, and thrust hard.
The barrier dissolved and Eleanor gasped. “Argh … oh.” Her voice shook. “Oh.”
Theo took his weight on his elbows, trying not to carry on. Making himself wait until she wriggled.
Was there ever a time he was willing to obey? Theo moved. Tentatively at first until she matched his pace. Then he rode her. Hard and fast until she stiffened, tightened around him, and then melted, shook, and screamed as her climax overtook her. Eleanor clutched his scalp and convulsed as he let himself go and tried to pull out.
“Oh no. Stay. Stay and show me.” Her voice was thready. It trembled but there was enough determination in it for him to realize she meant what she said.
He couldn’t have refused, even if the Prince Regent demanded it. Theo let himself go, thrust one last time, and his seed spilled into her, filling her, as he shouted his completion. It left him happy, sated, and drained. When had he ever felt like that before?