A warm welcome to Raven McAllan!!!
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.
A wee tease for you…
Nic held out his hand for the keys, and after a brief startled glance, Nina passed them to him. He locked the door and handed them back. She tucked them inside her handbag.
“Why did you do that?” Nina asked once she was inside the car with him. “Lock my door? I’ve been doing it for years.”
“Good.” Nic checked the flow of traffic and overtook a bus. “And when we’re together I’ll do it for you.”
“But why?” Nina asked again. “Why not just let me lock up?”
There’s that word again.
“I swear the first word you ever spoke was why,” Nic said as he turned the car into the street where Dommissimma was situated. “And I bet it will be your last. I agree that to question things you don’t understand is a good thing, but by heck, Nina, you’d even question why I asked for dark chocolate not milk.”
“No, I wouldn’t then,” she said in a triumphant tone. “Because dark chocolate helps to control the sub drop a sub might get after a scene. Or a Dom for that matter.” She didn’t add so there, but Nic could hear it inferred in her voice.
“Good. I’ve found one action you won’t question. I wonder if there’s any more?” He stopped the car in the half empty car park and switched of the engine. “Not too busy, but it looks like there’ll be enough going on so you’ll be able to gauge your reactions. Let me come ‘round and help you out. And before you say anything, that, plus locking your door are just some of those common courtesies we spoke of over the phone. To me I don’t do it as a Dom, I do it as a man.”
“I might question it, the chocolate. I’d wonder who it was for.” Nina said as they approached the nondescript door to Dommissimma. “Seeing as we’re not scening.”
“Not at the moment.” Nic agreed with her. “But who knows when we might need it.” He looked at her pale face. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I don’t want you passing out or anything.” Her pallor worried him. He hoped she wasn’t anemic.
“What?” She sounded surprised. “I’m fine, why?” ”You’re as white as a sheet.” ”I usually am,” Nina said. “But in this case I think it’s hunger, worry I might let you down rather than natural Celtic pale skin, and oh sh—oot, I recognize that car.” Nina waved toward a dark saloon in the corner of the car park. “Beware of nosy Doms. That’s Edan’s, and if he’s here it’s a shoe in Athol will be as well.”
“Why are you hungry?” Nic honed in on her first reason.
“Running late, apprehension, forgot to buy bread, take your pick. And now a crowing Athol.”
Nic grinned and kissed her nose. She wrinkled it. “That tickles.”
“It’ll be directed at me as well as you, anima mia. I’ve only been around when needed these last few years. And there’s no need to be apprehensive. We’re not scening, and you said nothing frightened you, just that it wasn’t your thing, so why worry?”
“I didn’t say it was logical,” Nina said. “I can’t explain it, there’s no logical explanation, in fact no explanation at all. It makes no sense, but it’s how I feel.” She bit her lip and gave a deprecating smile. “Stupid or what?”
Nic tugged her to one side of the door. “Not stupid. But I’m going to do my damnedest to change how you feel. Nina, love, nothing you can say or do will let me down.” Unless it’s let’s get out of here, or I don’t want to see you again, Nic. “Remember you can safe word me over anything. And a nip just here,” he put her thumb and forefinger on the back of his hand, “will alert me if something is bothering you and we need to move away and talk. Yes?”
“Yes.” ”Then are you ready?” Nina blinked and squared her shoulders. “Yes, Sir, I’m ready.”
He could see her mindset changing as she spoke. ”Then let’s go in.”
and me… http://www.ravenmcallan.com
Love R x
A 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.
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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