Thanks so
much for having the lovely Raven and me on your blog today. You know, we often
talked about writing a book together, but that’s as far as it went. Then our
reader group The
RavdorChicks started nagging us—in the nicest possible way of course—that
they would love us to write a story together.
So, after
much frantic skype messaging, where we brainstormed ideas, and one very sleepless
night from me, when the start of a workable story actually came to me, the idea
was born.
What
followed was a fun filled four days with Raven in Scotland, where we put our
heads down, fuelled by wine, chocolate, and Gin&Tonics, and our fingers
flew.
We had so
much fun writing this story I can say this won’t be our last collaboration. We hope readers will like The Dukes’
Christmas Abductions as much as we loved writing this story.
Much love
from both of us!
Stay
naughty now, folks.
D & R
xxx
Blurb:
Follow your heart and
cross space and time…
When Clara lands the job as curator of
Faversham House it’s a dream come true. Especially when her favorite Regency
Erotica writer Vicky Hopewell shadows her in the run up to the annual estate
ball—a tradition left over from Regency times.
The costume ball is always the highlight of the
year, but neither woman expects to be confronted by two drop dead gorgeous
Dukes.
Daniel Danvers, the Duke of Hockwell thinks
Clara is one of the servants invited to the estate ball.
Kit Capel, the Duke of Aulban cannot understand
why his wife Victoria acts as though she doesn’t know him.
As both couples slowly come to terms with the
reality of their situations, can they find happiness? Is it as simple as
following your heart?
Be Warned: bondage, spanking
Excerpt (18+):
Daniel
paused mid swatting the delectable arse in front of him to rub, what must be a
considerable ache by now, away. His quarry had stopped screaming for this
Vicky, at last, and unless his senses were completely off, she was starting to
enjoy his attention. Certainly her breaths were coming in short gasps, and
instead of struggling, she was raising her bottom into every carefully placed
swat of his hand.
The
evening was definitely looking up. As was his cock, which was in danger of
splitting his evening breeches.
There
was one way to find out for sure. Daniel slipped his fingers under the hideous
undergarments, and smirked at the all over body shiver his girl gave. Satisfied
with not only her reaction but also by the wet, hair-free cunt he found, he let
his digits linger.
“Oh,
god.”
Her
breathless moan spurred him on, and he grinned when he found her hidden pearl.
She shivered again when he circled the tight nub, and Daniel set up lazy
circles, designed to drive any woman wild. This chit proved no exception. The
air grew heavy with the musk of aroused woman, and Daniel inhaled deeply,
before he stopped the movement.
A
strangled groan escaped his girl, and he tapped her arse again, when she tried
to rub her cunt on his fingers.
“Oh,
no, you don’t. I want the truth, starting with your name, and maybe then I’ll
let you find release. Only on my say so, though, are we clear here, girl?”
“Fuck,
yes … ow.”
Her
arse cheeks wobbled most satisfactorily, when he yanked that odd fabric down to
her knees, and delivered a few more swats to her delectable arse. The woman had
a derriere made for fucking, hips to grab onto while he sunk his cock into her
body and claimed what was his. That thought made his head come up. His?
He had no business having proprietary thoughts toward a servant like that.
“Fuck,
we most certainly will, but not without you telling me who you are, so…” He
delivered another open handed swat across both of her arse cheeks this time,
and her answering deep throated moan made him go so hard it was a wonder he
hadn’t spilled in his breeches yet.
“Clara,
Sir. My name is Clara.”
Daniel
slid his fingers through her sodden slit, and flicked her nub once, causing her
to give another one of those cock hardening moans.
“Very
nice, but the correct address would be my lord, chit, would it not?”
A
strangled groan was his response this time, and when he withdrew his fingers
again, she slumped.
“Sorry,
My Lord.”
The
girl, Clara, he mentally amended, had fire, that was for sure, if the
intonation she gave his title was anything to go by. A certain amount of
boldness was something Daniel certainly appreciated in his bed partners. If
Clara was a lady’s maid, she was wasted in that position. As his mistress,
however… His mood improved dramatically
as that thought took hold.
It was
Christmas, time to be charitable and all that went with such bounty, and what
could be better than elevating this lovely creature from her status of mere
servant to his mistress.
Mind
thus made up, it was time to taste her nectar and to see if what he was
suspecting would be true. That Clara and he would mesh perfectly in the
bedroom, and he could let his darker desires shine through.
He
indulged himself by sliding several digits through her wet cunt, lubricating
them with her juices, before he slipped one finger into her tight channel, and
brought his thumb to press against the puckered hole, guarding that entrance.
Clara
stiffened slightly, but she didn’t voice any protest, and when he started to
thrust the finger in her cunt slowly in and out of her, she gasped. Her hips
rose in involuntary jerks, which told him how close she already was to
exploding under his ministrations. Her untutored responses made him want to
hurry this along, but Daniel was never an inconsiderate lover. He would give
her several releases before he claimed his own.
“Good
girl, and who do you work for?”
Clara
moaned and writhed against him, her internal muscles fluttering around his
fingers in rippling moves, which signaled her impending orgasm as clearly as
the rosy flush spreading across her skin. So beautifully responsive. She jerked
when he tapped her nub, and then withdrew his hand.
“Faversham
Estate. Oh god, please, My Lord … I.” The rest of her pretty little plea was
lost in a screech as he swung her off his lap and onto his bed. Her breasts bounced most satisfactorily, and
her lovely almond shaped green eyes widened further when he crawled onto the
bed with her, and straddled her midriff. Daniel grasped her arms and brought
them high above her head. The action made her breasts rise up in silent
offering, and Daniel smirked.
“Hmm,
that would mean you work for me. How delightful. Whatever position you hold
here, I much prefer you in this one, unable to move and at my mercy. I’m going
to tie your wrists together and tether you to one of the posts, sweet Clara. Is
that acceptable to you?”
*****
About the Authors:
Doris O’Connor
Doris is a writer of
sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines
who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Time
Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are
guaranteed.
Happily married for
the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine
in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
Stalk her in these places
Raven McAllan
Raven lives in
Scotland, along with her husband—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.
She admits she's
no domestic goddess, and wonders why tourists think she might run the local bed
and breakfast. She doesn't.
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.
Stalk her
in these places
