I have the lovely Raven back on my blog today after sharing her “weird words” post on Thursday. I love the title, Impulse … those little things we do that are immediate, without pre-planning, that sweep us away into actions that may not have the results we had thought.
I have to thank (or blame) my crit group UCW for Impulse. It all stemmed for a set of stories we wrote ages ago. Doris already has her idea published as Awakening, but I dithered. I knew my story was too busy, too bity, and to complicated. It needed to change, and not really be the story I’d written. But the idea of an Island where dreams and fantasies may come true kept niggling at me.
When Leona, my lovely Ed asked if I had anything fantasy wise, or paranormal wise for her, the idea, like Topsy, just grew and grew. No longer the original story, but now set on an Island in the Indian Ocean. With a lovely ordinary ( her words not mine) older heroine—Mia—who had a sister who decides Mia needed to get out of her rut and act on impulse.
Once Mia gets to the island the fun—and not so fun—starts.
I so enjoyed writing this. It was different because for a start I had a sort of plot. I say sort of because once I began to write, as usual all my ideas where knocked on the head by my characters.
Of course Mia was going to do her own thing, whatever I said, whether I liked it or not, and that I tell you was touch and go for a while. Especially when Dylan decided to go all macho on her, and she got on her high horse. Well wouldn’t you? She’s a woman with a mind of her own and not afraid to use it.
Isola Dei Sogni, where fantasies and dreams come true. Mia only went as a favor for her sister. Her fantasy was a good book and a bottle of wine. Until she met Dylan. Then her sense disappeared and fantasy took over. Was it all worth it?
Dylan has arrived at Isola Dei Sogni to help out—with reluctance and just as a favor. Then he meets Mia. If she’s the person he’s supposed to assist, then maybe the visit won’t be the waste of time he thought after all. His attitude has changed, and when he hears Mia wants to give him his fantasy? Dylan is never one to disappoint a lady…he hopes.
However, fantasies and dreams are all well and good, but even here, reality creeps in. Can Mia and Dylan overcome that to reach their happily ever after?
You’ll need to read the book to find out, and to help you I’m giving away a copy to one commenter, who answers… What would your fantasy be?
And to help you decide if you’d like to win the book, here’s an excerpt…
“So? Would you like to join me? Hold on.” She started to panic as he began to unbutton his shirt. “What about dinner? And what are you going to wear?”
“For dinner? Up to you. For now? Nothing. Oh, and while I remember. Dinner? On hold ’til you ask for it.” His hand went to the next button, and he lifted his brow in silent query. In the subtle light, Mia only just noticed, but nodded anyway. His shirt was unfastened, and he threw it onto the lounger to rest on top of her bikini bottoms. Well, now she knew how he’d had confirmation of her nudity. Her bikini top was still fluttering away like a flag at a rally.
“Okay.” She did her best to ignore the rumba in her tummy and the butterflies dancing on her clit. Mia couldn’t take her eyes off him as his hands moved lower.
Oh god, now his jeans. I wonder if he’s going commando? And then what?’
“That, love, is your call.”
For fuck’s sake, zip it. This ‘think it and spew it’ is so embarrassing. Unable to look away, but feeling a terrible voyeur, Mia watched as he slowly peeled his jeans down his legs. Her suspicions, or was it hopes, were right.
Yup. Commando. What a body. Oh sheesh what a . . . .
Dylan smiled. “Thank you,” he said gravely. “Do you want me to stand here a bit longer or shall I get in the pool?”
“What? Oh hell, I’ve done it again, haven’t I?” She could have sworn she hadn’t spoken aloud.
“Just get in.” She laughed, a rich, deep, sexy laugh that surprised herself as much as it seemed to him. His eyes widened, and he chuckled. “But do it slowly,” she added.
Dylan let himself slide into the water slowly, as requested. He winked. Damn, as if he doesn’t look as if he’s enjoying himself.
He swam across to stand in front of Mia. He didn’t touch, he just looked, and she thought—hoped—admired.
“You,” he said slowly as he touched her cheek, “Are my fantasy come to life. I want to touch you, explore you. All over. And over and over again. To feel those wonderful breasts pressed against my chest. To discover the taste of them, the feel of them in my mouth. To have your legs wrapped around me, to feel your body rubbing against mine, to make me even harder than I am now. To push myself into you, to feel myself filling you, and exploding in you. To hear you cry as you climax around me. And then to make you feel all those things again and again, with my hands, my mouth, my body—and oh shit, give me a minute here.”
She rather thought he struggled for composure.
“Thank god for the calming effects of water.”
Mia let out her breath. Noisily. “I’ll second that.” ‘And for someone who doesn’t work here, you sure know how to turn me on. Thank goodness I didn’t say that aloud.’
His lips twitched.
“Nothing, just give me a minute. Then we’ll talk.”
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—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.
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.
You can find out more about Raven here…
https://www.facebook.com/rmcallan (my page)
https://www.facebook.com/ravenmcallan (author page)