10/19/2012

Spirit Day

Today's the day...Wear it with Pride...


10/18/2012

Crawl in Bed With Raven McAllan


Crawling Into Bed With Raven
____________
And a Good Book

Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
sheets defintely egyptian cotton, ( Can i have a eunuch to iron them?)

A eunuch? What the? *shudders* What are you wearing?
It depends on the weather, and companion. So, birthday suit, or fleecy jammies..a smile and red lipstick


What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?
Champagne, strawberries and chocolate oh and gluten free cookies


If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?
bullet, chocolate and kindle, chocolate oh I said that

Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night? Depends on the weather, though I like my shoulders covered. I'm less likely to duvet hog if my bedmate is cuddly.

Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up? Only if you want kicking! Coldfeet on a hot bod is my preogative.

What are we reading?
Hmm, now that's a hard decision. What do we fancy? maybe a regency m/m/f shifter story. To Catch A Fox, first in a trilogy I hope. Set in Scotland, regency and well... judge for yourself.

and an excerpt...
Eleanor began to untie the bows at her neck, careful not to knot the ribbons. The bed had been a sign to her, that although her vigils seemed long and lone, they watched over her even if they did not approach. Their once a year visit must be nigh. It gave her heart—or did it?
Her dress discarded, she began on the bows of her chemise. Her hands faltered. Should she go further? Disrobe and let her naked body be free?
Eleanor shut her eyes. How she wished her men were with her. Yes, she admitted, it was not one but two. Her men, her Fox men.
“All must go.” The voice was like music in her ear. “We may not be with you but we feel you. You need us, and by all we revere we need you. Disrobe.”
Eleanor looked around the bedroom. She saw no one. Had she imagined that compelling voice?
“No, we are with you in spirit, soon to be in reality. Disrobe Eleanor, show us you will be ours.”
“Masters.”
Eleanor chuckled, and heard two echoes. They knew as well as she her submission was but lip service. She neither needed nor sought to be submissive, but chose to accept their dominance on an ad hoc basis.
In total agreement, each had affirmed they would choose their moment to be assertive, and abide by that decision.
Now, it was her turn to toy with them.
Eleanor took her time. She teased them and herself, as she opened her chemise, and let it fall to the ground. Naked, she stood tall and proud.
“Well,” she demanded. “Must I lie alone and touch myself? Rub myself, pinch and caress and use my wetness to arouse? Make myself come, as I sob your names? Sadly, that is now my entire experience. And ‘tis with sadness I realize ‘tis all I have of you both. Once a year over these past six years is the sum of which you have deigned to give me. One night of glorious abandon, where we are undone in each other, and then you leave me to my mind games.”
Her voice was full of sorrow. Tears scalded her cheeks. Her men had laughed, enjoyed her defiance and helped her overcome it.
And then to her surprise, two well endowed, hot, aroused foxes, also eager to be with her appeared!


you can find me on www.ravenmcallan.com and ravenmcallan.blogspot.com

10/15/2012

Now Available at All Romance E-books: Risking It All - Truth or Dare #5

TRUTH OR DARE # 5 

NOW AVAILABLE AT ALL ROMANCE! 



After nearly a year, Bastian Grey is growing discontent with the lack of intimacy in his relationship with Rick Claremont. Can an adopted cat be the key to a real relationship?

Fire fighter Sebastian Grey has finally gotten what he's wanted since he was sixteen: Rick Claremont in his bed. Only now he wants more. Convincing cautious Rick that loving him is a safe bet seems impossible.

Rick Claremont grew up in a hurry and experienced danger and loss early. He's not sure risking himself on Sebastian is a viable option. The man is gorgeous and the sex is amazing, but Sebastian's whole life is about taking chances. He throws himself off mountains for fun and runs into burning buildings for work. How can Rick trust this risk taker with his battered heart?

Will the advent of a cat and a corpse into their relationship give Bastian the entrée to Rick's heart as well as his bed?


Excerpt

"Turn over." Rick's raspy voice caressed his lips before he drew away to kneel beside Bastian. "I want to gaze into your eyes while you make love to me," Bastian protested. Rick avoided intimacy whenever and however he could. Rick's eyes narrowed at the words make love, but he didn't respond, no doubt choosing to ignore the comment. Nevertheless, his slender, strong hands guided Bastian onto his side, stroked gently down his spine. Bastian relaxed. At least like this he could see Rick's face, could watch his eyes darken, his cheeks flush.

Rick pressed a warm, soft kiss at his nape, and Bastian moaned softly. Rick could call it fucking but there was too much gentleness, too much caring in his touch, in the brush of his lips, to be anything other than affection and lovemaking.

The smaller man brushed his fingers down, tracing the muscles of Bastian's back, teasing him into relaxing, coaxing him into position. Bastian drew his knee up to the side, giving Rick access to his body. A cap snicked and a slick, gentle finger probed between his cheeks, massaging gently at the opening there. Bastian sighed, pushing into the touch. He needed that touch so much. It shocked him sometimes how much he relied on these "dates" with Rick. "Good idea." Rick murmured against his spine.

"Uh?" His body focused on the pleasure of Rick's touch, on the heat of his breath whispering across his skin, stirring the fine hairs. The furor of his heartbeat in his ears, the loud rush of blood nearly drowned the words out.



Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955