Today I welcome my good friend Raven McAllan with her fabulous new book that you definitely don't want to miss!
Diomhair - Secrets Remembered.
All you need to know is that between these walls you call me Sir.
I love the word Diomhair.
Not only does it mean Secret in Gaelic, it sounds all mysterious, and, well,
secretive.
Sometimes I think my
characters want it to be a secret from me as well. Or are my heroes just
exercising their Dommly rights? I knew from the first moment I thought—or my
characters told me—I would write a book about a BDSM club in a restored castle,
the very place I'd base the story. An old ruined castle near where I live. That
was fine. But they made me work to discover all the secrets both within and
outside the walls. Not writers block, anything but. More if you're going to
write our story, we're going to make sure you do it exactly the way we say.
I did.
Secrets Remembered, is
book three in the Diomhair series. Each book can be read as a standalone, and
not spoil what's happening.
Here's the series blurb…
Secret. What's happens
there stays there.
It doesn't matter whether
you want to learn or teach, be in control or controlled, Diomhair could be the
place for you.
The ruined castle deep in
the Scottish countryside had been rebuilt into an exclusive, private, BDSM
club, where people could learn about and enjoy the lifestyle.
Not everyone approved,
and not everyone appreciated it, but for those who did and fit the criteria, it
was somewhere to go and be themselves, relax and play.
And if you found love
there, your own perfect match, well that could only be a bonus.
For isn't the secret to
true love the biggest secret of all?
And the book blurb…
What comes first your
happiness or your job?
Ailsa McLagan is sent undercover to investigate possible shady dealings
at the private BDSM Club Diomhair. The last thing she expects is to be
confronted by one of the Masters there. Not only does he make her want her to
sink to her knees, but he seems to see straight through her disguise, too.
Aidan is instantly attracted to the clueless Sub he stumbles upon.
Even though he knows she is hiding her true identity he can't help but push her
to discover her limits, and introduce her to the delights of subbing to him.
Scared by the intensity if her reaction, Ailsa runs and all seems
lost.
When the truth is revealed, can they work towards a true Dom/sub
relationship, even though theirs started on a lie?
And of course, as we say in Scotland, a wee tease…
How
many times had she wished she was back on the beat, policing a football match
or shepherding drunken undergrads back to their lodgings? Well not many, she
owned, but sometimes she wondered if she was right in the head. This job wasn’t
all glamorous parties and secret microphones. Most of it was standing in the
freezing cold and waiting for something and you had no idea what for.
She
wiped her shoes on the inside of her coat, held them in one hand, slipped her
mucky socks into her pocket and walked quietly away in the opposite direction
from where the voices had gone. Ailsa mentally smiled at her thoughts.
Independently acting voices and no bodies to go with them?
God
she hoped not, she wasn’t a sci-fi or horror fan.
Stupidly
she turned left not right and found herself in the gym.
And
heard the whistling again.
It
seemed someone was about, and she was going to be in big trouble. There wasn’t
even a desk to hide under like in all good movies, or a floor length curtain.
The windows had fitted blinds. A treadmill, cross trainer and rowing machine
didn’t make good hiding places. Nor did the water cooler.
With
a sigh deep enough to clear leaves from a footpath, Ailsa slipped her shoes back
on, straightened her shoulders and faced the door.
The
man who stopped dead in the doorway, mid whistle, was hot enough for her chin
to drop, her eyes to widen and her body to tighten. Whoever said there was no
such thing as instant lust was oh so very wrong. She might not subscribe to
lacy thongs that got stuck up your arse like a cheese grater, but if she did,
Ailsa reckoned they’d be wet and wrung out. As it was, her sensible, cotton,
chain store knickers were damp under her thermals. Dark, soft, leather trousers
and a black T-shirt were the clothes her wet dreams were made of.
He
dropped the bag he was carrying, straightened and looked her up and down. “Well
now, what have we here?”
Ailsa
swallowed. How to reply to that and not be in trouble?
“Pet,
answer me.”
The
tone sent shivers down her spine, and the hairs on her arms stood on end in
sympathy. Ailsa gulped. Who on earth did he think she was? Pet? Should she woof
or growl? If there was one thing she hated it was being called silly names like
pet, or chick. She was a woman, not an animal.
“Pet,
are you wanting a punishment? The mood I’m in I’ll be happy to oblige. Surely
you know the basic protocol?” There was no give in the harsh voice.
Well,
no she didn’t, not unless you counted what she’d read in books and that was all
fantasy and fiction—wasn’t it? She hadn’t even ventured around the club part of
the castle. Her time inside the place was too limited to explore unnecessarily.
“Hello,
I’m Ailsa McLagan.” Dumb, Ailsa, now he
can trace you.
“Sir.”
Eh? “Pardon?” Oh fuck. Not a scooby.
No way. “No, I’m a miss. And you
are?” Apart from a prick? I thought Doms
were… Oh actually, nope, oh double shit. “Um, oh, sorry, er, Sir, well you
see I just forgot where I was. I’m scared.” Would he believe her?
“Really.
Do you remember now?” It seemed sarcasm was his forte.
God that
voice. I could drown in it, sarcasm or not. Double dipped chocolate velvet and
ohh shit, steel. Hard, hard steel. What do I do now? Come on, what would that
dippy heroine from the last book you deleted from your eReader do? No not her,
think of the other one. The one whose Sir made you wet. See, a Sir, oh, you
ninny, Ailsa.
Secrets Remembered is now available from
You can find all about me on www.ravenmcallan.com
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