Raven rabbiting here. On odds and sods and bits and bobs

I’m in that refresh press refresh panic mode at the moment. Up until a few hours ago I was waiting on edits and three subs. Now I’ve got the edits for Killer Christmas (Evernight Publishing, written as Kera Faire) and it’s an Editor’s Pick. That made me grin and do a wee chair swivel jiggle.



A killer and a hooker? An unlikely mix, especially, at Christmas.

Rio Buchanan, a Government operative, and member of the Dispatchers specializes in seduction. He just never thought his target would be his ex-wife. Andie might now be a hooker, but there’s no way she’s a traitor.

There’s only one way to get to the truth—kidnap her to keep her safe.

Andie doesn’t know what to think when Rio disrupts her life again, let alone when she wakes up in a prison cell shackled to him, and not in a fun, kinky way.

The secrets of his job already ended their marriage. Will they now end her life too?

Imprisoned on the Dark Isle they have to work together to catch a traitor, and discover if they can forge a new life together.


I hope that teases your book buds, and you’ll think oohhh… I’m so enjoying the edits, I know they make the story better, and boy it is amazing what you miss when you send it in.


Now I’m just (haha, just) waiting to hear on those subs.

Am I hopeful? Well let’s say I’m hoping like crazy that at least one is accepted. I’m singing two out of three aint bad (Meatloaf, I’m that old) but of course I’d love a yes to all of them.

Meanwhile I’m doing my edits, and then I will do what we all say we should do. Write something else.

This post is a missmash, so do bear with me, please. My latest book, Fairground Attraction is now out on early download at Totally Bound, and will go on to general release on December 13th. That’s the day after my birthday, so a nice belated present.

The story is a favourite of mine. I first wrote it as a shorter version called The Price to Pay, and when I got the rights back I just had to play with it, add a bit and hope it would be accepted. Yee Haa, it was.


Now I’m nail biting and hoping people love Vairi and Raig as much as I do. Here’s a wee tease so you can decide what you think.


He just knew she was about to cut his heart out. He could tell by looking at her now unhappy face, her features pinched and drawn with no sign of that recent smile, just how she was effected and troubled by her soon-to-be-given answer.

Ah, bollocks.

Vairi took a deep breath and laced her fingers together in her lap. “Raig, I can’t. I’m so, so sorry. I want you; hell, do I want you. My body is throbbing thinking how bloody good I imagine we could—no, fuck it—would be together.”

It was obvious to him just how she struggled to explain the way she felt. He shrugged. “Your decision, love.” Even to himself he sounded a pompous git. Raig winced. It wasn’t like him to behave that way. Mind you, he’d not been turned down before either. Unless you counted Eileen Craven behind the bike sheds in a ‘you show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ session, aged fifteen and fourteen respectively.

Vairi’s eyes sparked. “Exactly, and get the stick out of your arse and listen properly. Sheesh, it would be oh so easy to say, ‘hey, yeah, why not.’ Let you into my knickers and fuck. But forever? I can’t promise that. Shit, all I know about you is what you’ve told me tonight, which is basically nothing. I’ve been bitten once. I’m not going down that road again. The price is too high.”

As he answered her in a bitter voice, he felt sick. “It’s usually the bloke after the one night stand, not the woman. Trust us to be doing it the other way round. I can’t change the price, Vairi My Queen. I’d be doing us both a disservice; it would be Cava, not Champagne, cheap and…” His voice trailed off as he shrugged once more. “Ah well, your decision. One I’ll not be happy with, but one I’ll respect. When you feel up to it, I’ll take you home. Unfortunately on a bike. Can you cope? Will you be needing a sick bag?”

He watched her face, recognized the regret and the determination shown there.
“I’ll be fine. I’m more sorry than you will ever know, Raig. It’s my world I’ve ripped apart as well as yours. For some unknown reason, I’ve fallen for you and fallen hard. No, wait”—he had been about to butt in—”I have to be able to live with my conscience. I won’t lie or bullshit about something so important. Yes, I want you and could easily say, ‘hey, let’s do it,’ and then afterward tell you I’d changed my mind. But that would be dishonest and go against my principals, so I won’t do that. Even if it means I go home hot, horny, and irritable and rue the day I threw my bullet into the bin. It’s too soon and too fast to make a decision like that.” She sighed. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

“Oh yeah, I’m ready. Not that it’ll do me any fucking good.” Shit, he really did sound like a whinging five-year-old who couldn’t have the toy he wanted.

“Well, tough.” Vairi stood over him and poked him on the shoulder. “You might be every woman’s clit-rubbing dream, Rake, but you’re a bloody, sulky-faced one.” She stopped as she realized what she had said. The look of astonishment on her face would have been comical if he wasn’t so bloody grouchy.

“Oh lordy, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Raig nodded, and knew by the way she rolled her eyes his expression was still petulant. For Christ’s sake, she’d admitted she could get off just thinking about him and still wasn’t going to admit it was more than a passing fancy. He felt his despair overwhelming him; he’d run out of ideas. He saw the moment she lost the plot.

“Oh, for goodness sake, grow up! Sorry if I’ve thrown your life plans out of kilter, but that’s life. Nothing ever goes to plan. Build a bridge, man. Get over it. Shit, be thankful I’m being honest with you.” She scowled and paced to the door. “Oh, don’t bother to take me home. I’ll get a taxi.”

That annoyed him. “You most certainly will not. I’ll get the helmets.” He hoped later she would remember his tone. He cared. Even if he seemed surly, he cared. In silence she waited by the door, one sparkly shoed foot tapping ominously whilst he collected two bike helmets.

Still in silence, Raig escorted her out of the trailer, locked the door behind them and walked across the grass to a secure compound where he retrieved one of his pride and joys. Big, black, and phallic, his motorbike was something he truly treasured. The feeling of the throbbing power between his legs, the wind rushing past, the noise of wheels on tarmac, arcing around corners, speeding down the straights, was truly sexual. It was even better with a willing woman riding behind, her pussy hard up to his ass, her arms tight around him, hands creeping into his crotch to brush his cock. To know when the bike ride was over, the body ride would begin.

He was on plums this time.




Happy Reading, Love Raven x

Guest Blogger: Elizabeth Black


It’s good to meet you, Dirty Birdie Authors. My name is Elizabeth Black and I write smut. Good smut. The kind of smut that gets your knickers soaked. I’m here to tell you about my new and delicious erotic romance novel, No Restraint. I’m also offering a give-away of one of my two erotic retellings of fairy tales, either Trouble In Thigh High Boots (erotic Puss In Boots) or Climbing Her Tower (erotic Rapunzel). Your choice. Enter the contest and good luck!


I love reading, although it’s a bit harder than it used to be for me since my eyes are shot. I need Coke bottle bottom glasses. I have a Kindle and I set the font to a larger font number. I also read with my glasses off. It’s easier to see the print that way. I read mostly horror, thrillers, and mysteries but I do like erotic short story collections. I have a special fondness for erotic retellings of fairy tales. My next read for enjoyment is Ann Rice’s Sleeping Beauty series she wrote as Anne Rochelaure. I really need to add those books to my repertoire.

My favorite way to read is sitting on the couch with my headphones on. I block out ambient sound with trance music. Digitally Imported – Epic Trance is my favorite radio station. I’m one of those people who can read and write with music playing in the background. In addition to trance, I like ambient New Age music, especially if ocean sounds play in the background. My favorite artists are Armin van Buuren, Paul van Dyk, Tiêsto, Aly and Fila, Sean Tyas, Biosphere, Enigma, Delerium, Adiemus, and Dan Gibson.

My book No Restraint takes all I like about erotic romance and I put it into one story. My alpha hero Jackson Beale has the good looks and money that make fantasy heroes so popular in romance fiction but the guy isn’t perfect. He has plenty of flaws. My heroine Alex Craig has already begun her journey into experiencing the full extent of all her senses. She craves la Dolce Vita. She simply needs a more experienced partner to show her the ropes, and she finds him in Jackson. They share a trip into the sexy and exciting world of decadence. I wrote the kind of book I like to read.

Reading is an enjoyable pastime, next to watching cheesy horror movies. I have been able to get into a good book since I first learned to read. Even before that – when my mother would read to me. As long as I can enjoy a good book, all will be right with the world.

Amazon U. S.: https://www.amazon.com/No-Restraint-Elizabeth-Black-ebook/dp/B01IGHFZI0/

Amazon U. K.: https://www.amazon.co.uk/No-Restraint-Elizabeth-Black-ebook/dp/B01IGHFZI0/

Web Site: http://elizabethablack.blogspot.com/p/no-restraint.html



Alex Craig accepts a new job at a high-end sex doll company called Babes. Babes’ dolls are high-end, expensive silicone love toys. Working at Babes is like working for a bacchanal. The company’s culture is all about decadence, enjoying the good life, exciting sex, and enticing food and drink. Alex meets Jackson Beale, one of the company’s vice-presidents. Jackson takes Alex on a new and exciting journey of carnal pleasure. He introduces her to new tactile and kinky pleasures, and she relishes her excitement. The world takes on an entirely new meaning and importance to Alex as she learns what she’s been missing in her life.



Elizabeth Black writes sexy and naughty stories as an erotica and erotic romance writer. She lives a stone’s throw from the churning Atlantic ocean on the Massachusetts coast with her husband and son, and the beach figures prominently in many of her stories. When she is not creating new exciting and sexy worlds, she enjoys baking, making her own bath products, watching horror movies, reading, and traveling. She makes a point of traveling with her husband to Chinatown in Boston most Fridays in the dead of night for a tasty dinner at stupid o’clock in the morning. An inveterate cat lover, her three little furballs keep her company while she writes and otherwise goes about her day. Here’s where to find her on the web.

Elizabeth Black – Blog and Web Site (sign up for her newsletter!)


E. A. Black – Blog and Web Site (sign up for her newsletter!)


Elizabeth Black – Facebook


Elizabeth Black/E. A. Black – Facebook Page


Elizabeth Black – Twitter


Elizabeth Black – Amazon Author Page


E. A. Black – Amazon Author Page




In bed that evening, she succumbed to the build-up of lust she felt for Jackson since the moment she laid eyes on him at Babes. She felt as if she had fallen into a deep, warm bottomless well. Her stomach flip-flopped with excitement as she sailed headfirst into her passion for Jackson. The scent of limes, lemongrass, and sea salt lingered on his skin. As she undressed him, her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He took her hands in his and guided them to his hips. Arousal took over her very being. She wanted him, and she shivered with delight at his invitation. With one graceful movement, he removed his shirt. She spied a tattoo of an Asian character on his right shoulder, and she traced the ink with her index finger.

‘What’s this?’

‘It’s Japanese Kanji. The word is nikuyoku.’

‘And that means?’

He turned his face toward hers and gave her a sly smile. ‘Lust.’

Wasting no time, he quickly removed her shirt. Warm air flowed over her skin, making her tingle all over. His mere touch drove her mad! When he pressed his lips against her throat, it took all her willpower to keep from throwing him on the bed and taking over herself. She didn’t want to do that. No, she wanted him to ravish her. They were in no rush, and she wanted to enjoy his body and her own craving to the fullest.

‘You drive me mad, woman,’ he moaned in her ear. ‘You get under my skin like no one ever has before. I’m not sure what it is about you.’ He brushed his lips against her jawline. ‘Your honesty. Your sweetness. I trust you, which is saying a lot. I’m not by nature a trusting person. You bring out the best in me. I want to take good care of you.’

She didn’t know what to say in response that wouldn’t sound trite, so instead she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. His lips traveled from her jaw down her throat until they reached her breasts. Hands trembling, he kneaded her breasts until the soft flesh glowed pink. Nipples hard and aching for his touch, she melted into his embrace when he sucked on each one, slowly and with great gentleness.

Without warning, he knelt in front of her on the bed, his head between her knees. His hands gripped her hips with such longing she couldn’t help but run her fingers through his hair. He sighed, and looked up at her with wide, shining eyes. The longing and love in his face stunned her. She knew he opened up to her in ways he didn’t to others, and she didn’t want to ever let him go.

‘You mean the world to me, Alex,’ he said. ‘This is a very special day to me. I hope it is for you, too. It’s the first time we’re going to make love. And I want it to be perfect.’

Overwhelmed with emotion, she smiled and kissed him on the forehead, then on the cheeks, eyes, and lips. She needed him as much as he needed her, and she was never going to let him go. His passion aroused her so much she was already very wet. She lay on her back on the bed, legs spread, waiting for him to enter her, but he surprised her by kissing her knees, and moving up to her thighs. With eagerness, he kissed her heat. Jackson gently lapped her folds with his expert tongue until she was so wet and overheated sweat beaded on her forehead.

Jackson slipped two fingers inside her, then three, all the while stroking himself until he was hard. He worked her into a frenzy so exciting, her pulse pounded in her head. She gripped his hair in both hands and guided his head to her sweet spot. As his tongue flicked against her clit, his fingers worked her pussy. Her arousal built in a crescendo, and she arched her back, taking in all his hard work with a cry as she had the first of several orgasms. As one subsided, another erupted in its place. Her orgasms came and went in long, glorious waves until she finally collapsed beneath him.

Delighted, she laughed and pulled him to her until his head rested on her shoulder. She held him tight, never wanting to let him go. Far from finished, he turned over on his back and motioned for her to ride him.

His thick hair fanned out on the pillow as she sat astride him and slipped a condom over his erection. She guided him inside, rocking and bucking as her arousal once again peaked to the heights of bliss. She raked his shoulders with her fingernails as if digging into his flesh made him more real. Inhaling deeply, she took in his alluring scent. Her head spun with arousal, and her skin tingled with each stroke of his hand.

After she came yet again, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her over onto her back. He thrust into her, deeper and harder with each stroke, and minutes after she came his orgasm exploded into her. Sweat from heat and lust coated their bodies in a soft patina.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms as if they belonged together. In the morning, Alex awakened facing away from Jackson who spooned her, one arm draped around her waist, and his legs twisted in her own.



Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://www.writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/elizabeth-black/

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This Is Not A Competition

I need to get something off my chest. I’m not sure how these practices developed, or why they did, but at the core of them is the belief held by a growing group of authors that we are in competition with each other. Brace yourselves… I’m about to toss a monkey wrench into that concept.

This is NOT a competition. No, really, it’s not. It’s not a zero sum game. In other words, there isn’t only room for a few of us in the publishing industry. There is room for ALL of us.

Our readers don’t only buy books from one or two authors. They buy books from as many authors as catch their interest. It’s true. Writing is one of the few industries out there where that is true. Music is another one, although in music an artist has a tougher time staying timeless than a writer does.

odds-in-your-favorRomance as a genre has been around since the late 1940s. And it’s STILL the number one selling genre by a margin of 2:1. Yes. Think about THAT for a moment. There is no music genre that can claim such longevity. There are no TV programs that can make that claim, either. Only in publishing do we have such a phenomenon.

Here are a few recent stats from the RWA – The Romance Writers of America:

In 2013, the romance genre as a whole made approximately 1.8 billion dollars in sales. 1.8 BILLION. That’s a lot of books!

Females continue to out-number the male readers at a percentage rate of 84% to 16%, and the average age of the romance reader is 35 to 54.

Those are your target demographics, writers. Oh, and ebooks? They make up 39% of the share of how readers buy books. Mass market paperback is second at 32%.

And, regardless of format, 61% of romance readers are reading the same number of romances per month as they were twelve years ago. And what was the top activity done in the last six months? SEARCHING FOR A NEW ROMANCE AUTHOR TO READ.

That’s some seriously impressive staying power. It also speaks to the fact that readers love to check out new authors! So why, then, do some authors find it necessary to be so incredibly nasty to other authors, and even to readers?

I have no clue, but I wish they’d all go play in someone else’s sandbox because they give the rest of us a very bad name.

jealous-of-meI’m talking about the authors with “street teams” (I use the term loosely, because gangs of thugs is more appropriate!!) who go out and one-star an author’s book or books on every site they can. Or who pick public fights on social media with other authors and their readers. Or who do dozens of other really horrible things to fellow author and/or readers.

The reasons are childish and petty. An author “said something” about the author who directs the street team. An author has a hair color the bully author hates. An author just released a book the bully author is jealous of. Blah, blah, blah, on and on and on. Sound like middle school? Yes, it certainly does. What it does NOT sound like is a MATURE author who takes pride in her work, or who even understands what she is part of.

These bully authors are blatant with their hatred and their harassment. They and their gangs of thugs will go after other authors, or even readers, for almost any reason, whether it’s real or not. Every time I hear about yet another incident, I truly do wonder if this world has lost its ever-loving, collective mind.

In addition to being the absolute WORST advertisement for romance authors possible, these bully authors cause untold pain and heartache for authors and readers alike who can’t deal with such massive abuse, or who haven’t been around long enough to realize this is not the norm. But even though the majority of romance authors are nothing like these bullies, the bullies are loud and proud, so their nonsense gets paid attention to.

There is no subtlety here. Not even close. They don’t care how they come across to others, which blows my mind when I think about it. I mean who in their right mind would even want to support an author like that???? I’d drop anyone like a hot potato who pulled that bully diva shit.


This is not a competition. Romance readers are loyal, and once they love an author’s work, they will buy all of it. I’m proud of the authors and readers I know in real life and cyber life who SUPPORT and ENCOURAGE each other. We are mature enough to realize we don’t need to tear down others in order to lift ourselves up. THOSE are the people I choose to surround myself with.

And as for the bully authors? You need to find a new outlet for your anger and envy because you’re polluting the entire genre with your playground nastiness.