Friday, 18 July 2014

Life at Diomhair is never peaceful-Secrets Uncovered @RavenMcAllan #Book #Giveaway

Yay! I've got the lovely Raven McAllan taking over my blog today. She's also giving away a book. Read through to the bottom and answer her question for your chance to win the first book of the Diomhair series.
 Over to you, Raven...
Aberdour Castle, Fife, Scotland
What happens there stays there.
Except I'm writing about it. Secrets Uncovered is book two of six planned, all about a BDSM Club in a renovated Scottish Castle. There is a ruined castle I've renovated in my books and based it on, not that far from where I live. I often pop over and look at it and smother a giggle. You can't get into the ruins, but it's a lovely spot, and it does give me such fantastic ideas.
I try to write about normal people and their lives. Just because they are involved in BDSM—or not—doesn't mean they're not normal. After all people aren't one size fits all, and we don't all like coffee (why not) or the movies.
I try to get inside their heads and see what's motivating them. It's not always easy. No it's not procrastinating, honestly, when I'm gazing out of the window. Just me thinking hard. A process that involves copious amounts of coffee and chocolate.
This series is so much fun, because all the characters have a secret, and something strange is going on at Diomhair as well.
For instance, Kath and Jeff gave me more than a few moments when I wondered if we'd ever get to a happy for now, let alone a happily ever after. They had such different opinions about something that loomed large in their lives. To whit, just what was okay to do when Kath was pregnant.
And oh boy did their ideas differ, They both wanted what was best for the baby of course. However what was best, shall we say, caused a massive difference of opinion.
I guess it was inevitable. A Dom and a sub. A man and a woman. And both strong personalities.
Eventually they get things sort of sorted, but that's not their only problems.
Life at Diomhair is never peaceful. But it is fun… and at times tense… and, well you'll need to read it yourself…

Here's the blurb…
Convincing a Dom that pregnancy doesn’t mean the end of all play can take some doing. Kath is horny and determined, but what does Jeff think?
Pregnancy should be the happiest time of your life. What’s a sub to do, however, when her Dom won’t touch her? Kath can’t understand why Jeff is being so difficult. After all, she’s pregnant, not ill, and she’ll combust with sexual frustration if she can’t seduce Jeff into play.
Jeff can’t help but worry over Kath’s health. It doesn’t matter what anyone, including the doctor, says about sex being okay, his mind tells him otherwise. It’s his duty to protect his sub, even if he’s giving himself blue balls in the process. He’ll do anything to keep her and their baby safe.
With the two of them at an impasse, tension runs high, especially when the future of Diomhair is threatened by an unknown enemy.
As they pull together to secure their home, and their workplace, can they also resolve their personal problems, or does pregnancy spell the end of their Dom/sub relationship?

 And a wee tease…
“Boy have I enjoyed myself, but, ohh, now my feet ache, and I’m dying for a cuppa. You should see what I’ve bought.” Kath kicked her shoes off and dropped several carrier bags on the floor. “That new shop is enough to set any woman drooling, pregnant or not. And I got some kick ass flats like you said. Though I have earmarked some fuck me heels for after Bump arrives, and you should see…” Her voice trailed off as he stood with his arms folded and grinned at her. “I distrust that grin, Jeff Sutherland. What have you been up to?”
“Is that anyway to greet your Master, pet?”
Her eyes widened as she took in what they called his Dom attire. The soft leather trousers she stroked like they were alive and his tight back T-shirt she almost drooled over. He’d deliberately left them in the wardrobe of late, feeling it would be unfair to remind both of them what they couldn’t have. Now in his new mindset—partly due, he admitted, to a strong talking to from David, but more from a need and a desire to reassert their way of life—Jeff realised how much he wanted to wear them and see her reaction once more. Kath had said her response to those clothes was almost Pavlovian. He wore. She drooled. He said jump, she said how high? They were, she admitted, her trigger. Now, her grin almost split her face before she dipped her head.
“No, Sir.”
“Exactly, pet. I’ve been somewhat remiss lately, and I have to remedy that. I don’t want my pet to think I’ve forgotten her.” He slid back into their dynamic like a knife through softened butter. It seemed so right, and so perfect. Now all he had to do was convince Kath to be happy with the changes he’d decided on. “I’ve thought things over, and we’re going to rewrite some of our protocols. Remember, you can traffic light me, but for now I’m going to ask you to listen to what I want before you comment. All right?” Jeff held his breath. If it wasn’t, there was no way he could force anything on her. Force in any form had never formed part of their dynamics, not even in role-play. It wasn’t them, and never would be.
Kath looked from him to the cushioned chair he’d added to the room. He'd placed it in front of the chair he himself preferred to sit in, right over the spot Kath usually liked to curl up on and cuddle his legs. Then she looked across the room to where he’d put a new sofa. Jeff didn’t dare think of the strings he’d pulled or the favours he now owed so he could have it in place and waiting for Kath’s return.
“Yes, Sir. Green, Sir.” She grinned, then looked down in a hurry.
“That’s my good pet. Now as you get less…” He chuckled. “I’m not sure how to put this any way subtly, so I’ll just say, less svelte-like and more uncomfortable, it wouldn’t be practical to kneel as we have done before. So our new protocol involves this chair.” He took her arm and helped her sit. A soft smile played over Kath’s face, but she didn’t say a word. When they did play like this, she always waited to speak. “Instead of kneeling, pet, you’ll sit on here and face me. Then I’d like…” He hesitated. This could be sticky. He didn’t want Kath to think she mattered less than their baby. “I’d like for you to accept me touching our child. To feel the swell of your stomach, the flutters and kicks as you get bigger, and rest my head on you so I can engage with you both, I guess is the best way to put it. However, your greeting to me will be equally as important. I want, while it’s still comfortable, for you to dip your head and accept my kiss on your neck. Then, eventually, once it’s time, we’ll move on to our normal greetings. The new sofa is for our evening together. We’ll have none of the sitting at my feet. I don’t think either of us would find it a turn on if I had to haul you up like…”
“Using a JCB?” Kath giggled. “No, Sir. I’d be honoured to sit next to you.  Oh, sorry. Mind engaged and mouth opened.” She wriggled her butt, in a way he well knew meant ‘spank me’.
“Behave. The punishment won’t be physical, not now. Maybe I need a book? To write your misbehaviour in.” She nodded eagerly, and Jeff had to laugh. Kath in this mood was incorrigible and nigh on irresistible. “Colour?”
“Green and green. And may I say the day I can start touching you in our greeting again can’t come soon enough, Sir.”
She’s up to something. The look on Kath’s face was so innocent he distrusted it.
“That’s a maybe. However it isn’t yet. Not until we pass the three months. So behave.” He lifted her chin in a light grip. “Understand, pet?”
She sighed. “Only too well, Sir. By God you’re infrangible when you want to be.”
“I’m a Dom. It goes with the territory.”

You can buy Secrets Uncovered here…

For a chance to win a copy of the first book in the series, Secrets Shared, just tell me, where you think is the prefect place for a BDSM club and why. I'll chose a winner from the comments at random.

Happy Reading,

Love R x

Raven Bio…

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 around 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.

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