Anyhoo, take it away, Raven.
Or as Nico Hughes might say, singing for your life…er wife…
Who he said to me very proudly is his life.
I mean, oh wow.
Sometimes you get a hero who you think is an ass. An, up himself, wtf, ass. And you wonder why on earth you're telling his story.
Okay I know he was shouting at me, and Kenna his lady smiled sweetly and said please, but really. I fought against it, because to be honest I couldn't see how the numpty, (eejit, twerp, totally stupid) bloke could redeem himself. He was definitely not what I thought of as hero material, and I couldn't see how on earth he and Kenna could have their HEA.
Little did I know. After all I'm only an author. Luckily one who listens to her characters, because they told me in no uncertain terms what to write.
And get on with it.
So I did, and on the way learned some very interesting facts about them both.
Kenna can't sing in tune and Nico can't not sing in tune. (Just as well, really, given his profession.)
Nico's sisters really do want a book each, and are beginning to nag.
Kenna's new found friend—Samantha, and Sam for short—says she deserves a story because if it hadn't been for her who knows what would have happened? (Not me for sure) And I have no idea what she wants…yet. Looks around, nervously
Nico hates lager, loves real ale and savours whisky. He reckons whisky lubricates his throat, so it's good for his singing voice. His sisters rolled their eyes when he said that. Kenna just laughed and said she preferred chocolate.
Kenna had a pet rat called Maurice when she was a child.
The book had the working title of Hughes Who?
At one point when someone talked about his cock in the story it almost became Well Hung Hughes snigger
I was so pleased when I realised the story was set in Newcastle. I met my lovely hubby there, many years ago. If it sounds weird, remember I'm very much character led, and as much as I might want to set a story somewhere or get my characters to a, b, or c, unless they agree, I might as well not bother to start writing. Several sessions of mass deletes ages ago made me realise that.
Sam saying eeeeh, is because I have a friend who does just that, and she's so funny, in the nicest possible way. I love dialects, have a terrible…or is that good?...habit of picking them up. I can eeehh and haway hinny with the best of them. I wasn't that happy when my son called me mammy man though. Laugh Now I live in Scotland, and I'm used to the accents and dialects here as well.
I chose the name Kenna and waited to hear what she had to say, before I then said to Kenna, one of our RavDor Chicks, what I'd done and was she okay with it. Luckily she didn't mind becoming 'The Rock Star's Wife'.
RavDor Chicks the Facebook group where you can find out what the lovely mother of my grandson (who is now about to start school and it’s a big gulp but he's too wee moment, Doris O'Connor) and I get up to. Well If your reading this blog you know about both of us and if you want to be a chick we'd love to have you in the hatchery.
This is us… https://www.facebook.com/groups/342726622559425/
I'm digressing again, sorry. I've been told to remind you that The Rock Star's Wife, aka Kenna, is the first book in a new series called 'Their Wives'. The next book, The Racing Drivers Wife, is due out this month.
The Reporter's Wife is simmering…
None of which is relevant at the moment.
So how about I give you the blurb, buy links and an exclusive excerpt from The Racing Driver's Wife?
(Feel free to say nah thanks hinny I'll away to the toon.)
Rock Star Nico was in love with Kenna and wanted to do everything for her, coddle her, and keep her safe. The result? Kenna felt stifled, so it was inevitable they'd clash. That clash resulted in them splitting up—until Kenna turned up at one of his concerts and Nico had the chance to explain himself.
Would she listen? If she did, would she understand, and accept he'd changed and give them a second chance? All he could do was put his heart on his sleeve and hope...
All Kenna has to do is listen to her heart, and his, and decide...
and a wee tease…
The car drew to a halt flush with a nondescript door, and Nico climbed out. "Come on, follow us or not. Your choice. Walk through the hotel to the front, dance along the river, hell, sleep on the lawn. Or follow me and admire the kitchen. See how the other half live." He led the way through an empty kitchen and toward a service lift. "All your choice."
She harrumphed. "Ha, you wouldn't know an oven if it hit you on the head."
"Would too, it would hurt."
"Children, children." Ella giggled as the lift door opened and the four of them trooped in. "Do you know what you sound like?"
"What?" They both asked at the same time.
"An old married couple." She pressed the button to close the door.
"We are," Nico said.
"We are not," Kenna snapped back. "To be that you have to acknowledge you're married, and do things together, like real people, not undercover super sleuths or sommat. I, as a wife, was invisible."
And therein lies the problem. He acknowledged that now. But would she understand his reasoning or even listen to him?
Judging by the look of disgust on her face, he didn't have a chance.
"Look, you two, can you argue later?" Ella asked. "I'm waiting to know what floor button to press."
"Ours," Nico said.
"Definitely," Kenna said so affably he was worried. "Then I can get out of the lift, your life and la-la land. Nice meeting you—not."
Ella glanced at Nico and he shrugged. She smiled and pressed the button.
The lift moved slowly upward, not rapidly like the passenger lift. As he watched her, Kenna's foot began to tap a staccato tattoo. He remembered how impatient she could be if things didn't go as she preferred.
His lips twitched.
"What? Something funny?"
He shook his head. "Not at all. I just wondered if you thought you could make this thing go faster by thought alone."
"If I could make things happen by thought alone, you'd be writhing on the floor in agony, and I'd be at home in peace."
Nico winced and managed not to put his hand protectively over his cock—just. "Ah yes, home. Where did you say it is?"
The lift stopped and Ella and Ramona got out. Nico grabbed Kenna's arm to stop her following. "Truce?" he asked softly. "Just long enough to have a drink and a…a catch up?"
"Why?" The suspicion in her voice was evident. "What is there to say?"
"A helluva lot. But preferably somewhere other than a lift. Give me half an hour? Please?"
She stared at him for so long, Nico was tempted to fidget. Rearrange his cock under his jeans—her presence affected that part of his anatomy quite significantly, and not in the shrivel up and hide way either—and check he didn't have drool on his chin. Now he could look at her properly, she really took his breath away.
He was tempted to say his bedroom, but it wouldn't be fair to tease her. Hell, tease her? I bloody would mean it. In bed under me, over me, any which way with me. Except he wasn't sure his cock still knew how to pleasure a woman and if it did how long it would last.
"We've got an apartment with a communal lounge. Ella and Ramona won't bother us. They'll need a shower and a cuppa before we go down and do our chatting."
So would he usually, but the long overdue talk with Kenna had to come first.
"What about you?"
"You're more important."
She rocked back on her heels. "You really do mean that, don't you?"
Nico nodded. "I really do. I've had a lot of time on my own, and plenty of empty hours in which to think. I've thought and I can say with hand on heart I've been a wanker. In whatever way you want to interpret it." The relief he felt as being honest and upfront about his attitude was overwhelming. How could he have behaved like he did? Nico was ashamed of himself.
Did he really mean it? Her expression must have given her away, because as she followed him along the corridor he rubbed his chin with his hand and looked sheepish.
"It's been a long and barren few months. I promised to be yours and yours alone and I've kept that promise."
"Pardon?" He swiped the key card over the reader and opened the door into an inner hallway.
Kenna could hear water from somewhere and guessed either Ella or Ramona or both were in the shower.
"If you mean what you say, then it's eleven months." One week three days and oh around eleven hours if anyone is counting.
"Eleven months since?" He drew a circle in the air with one finger. "We made love?" Nico opened the door into a plush and comfortable lounge and waved Kenna toward a long deep settee. She sank into the cushions, slipped off her shoes and curled her feet under her. After all, if they were about to have a heart-to-heart, she might as well make herself comfy.
"Ah that's better. Er no." Kenna shook her head. She didn’t want to be intentionally cruel but if they were going to talk she needed to get stuff off her chest first, before they truly began.
Nico looked relived. "Phew, you got me worried there for a sec. So eleven months since what?" He took a bottle of champagne from the cooler and began to twist the metal seal off and manoeuver the cork out. Kenna watched thoughtfully. He wasn't being as smooth or gentle with the bottle as she knew he could be and she'd bet a tenner the contents were well shaken up.
"Eleven months since we had sex. It's ohh, I'd say almost two years since we made love."
How much longer will it be? Ah well you'll need to buy the book to find out snigger
If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading,