Mara Malins's Blog

I’m ending this decade on the biggest of biggest highs!

A few years ago (seventeen to be exact), I spent my first proper New Years eve folded up in the arms of my new boyfriend watching Independence Day. We saw the new year in drinking cheap wine (the best we could afford), snacked on part burned, part undercooked pizza (we were seventeen – neither of us could cook), and snuggled under a duvet because the central heating had busted.

It was the best New Years eve I’d ever had. I didn’t think it could be topped.

But I think it might just do. (Don’t tell my boyfriend – I’m still with the same guy!)

On 31st of December, my steamy INKomplete  series is being released under one book cover. And what a fucking gorgeous cover it is! It’s a beautiful mashup of the four standalone covers. Look at those colours…

Even better, some of the reviews are starting to roll in and they are five stars (natch!):

Seriously, what are you waiting for? Don’t you want to read these amazing novellas? Preorder below:

Preorder Amazon.com

Preorder Amazon.co.uk

Preorder Kobo

Preorder Apple

Preorder B&N

Welcome to INKomplete, a studio renowned for its tattoos, talent, and totally tempting tattoo artists. Every design tells a story, every artist has a tale. One studio, four tattooists, and a whole load of heat. Enjoy these hot and steamy reads that explore the sometimes sweet but always erotic relationships between ink and kink.

Book 1 — INKarnate: When Emily begins an apprenticeship at the renowned tattoo studio INKomplete, she didn’t realise she was stepping into a world very different from her middle-class upbringing. But not everybody is happy about her dipping her toe into new waters. Famous tattoo artist, Matt Jones, knows she doesn’t belong.

Book 2 — INKapable: After her husband walked out on her, leaving her to provide for their daughter alone, Joe has no intention of relying on a man for anything ever again. As a successful tattoo artist, she can take care of what’s hers. The only thing she needs is a little fun every now and again. And if a gorgeous man offers her exactly what she needs, if they both know what they’re getting into, it can’t get messy, can it?

Book 3 — INKurable: Phee has breast cancer. As heart-breaking as it is, she’s determined to be strong so her friends don’t worry. They’re a family, so if she hurts, they hurt, and she can’t allow that. But when lines start to blur between her and her handsome surgeon, trying to hold everything together suddenly feels like the real fight.

Book 4 — INKonsolable: It’s been five years since Blakey’s beautiful wife Elizabeth died and his grief is just as sharp today as it was back then. But now he’s desperately lonely too. As he becomes closer to his friend Aisleyne, Blakey fights it with everything he has. How could he even think about moving on? No, friendship is all he has to offer. That will have to be enough.

Ye Olde Cocke–Free Story!

June last year, I was part of a short story anthology called “The Cocky Cockers.” You can find the reasons behind the  conception of this anthology in an earlier blogpost of mine. I won’t regurgitate the details here.

But now the fight has been mostly won, it was decided to take down the anthology from Amazon. We made our point and a little money for charity on the side—mission accomplished!

Since it no longer has a home, you can read my story from The Cocky Cockers below. It’s not as saucy as I usually right (I ran out of words) so maybe one day I’ll rewrite and extend it. Who knows?

Let me know what you think.

Ye Olde Cocke

Mara Malins

The journey up to the Ye Olde Cocke was awful. The cold February rain was coming down in sheets so thick that I could barely see out of the windscreen despite the constant swooshing of the wipers. The country lanes leading to the pub were unlit and treacherous. I was a nervous driver at the best of times but trying to navigate these unmarked roads at almost nine at night with just the moon and the car headlights guiding me was an absolute nightmare.

Thankfully I was travelling alone. No-one was here to see me panic. My friend Husna was around an hour behind me, driving straight from work, and the boys—Jack and Grayson–wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow morning. Then we would party the weekend away.

Well, we’d get drunk and catch up.

Ye Olde Cocke was hardly the partying kind of place. I’d inherited the traditional sixteenth century pub from my granny and though it had been in my family for generations, I’d only ever been to visit twice. My Grandmother had never really visited the place either, preferring to manage the pub from afar. But Granny had died—leaving behind a pub, a few trinkets, and her beloved cocker spaniel Kingsley—and I was the new manager. I felt it was right to visit at least once.

Besides, free booze was free booze.

When I proposed the idea of a free weekend away, Husna had squealed and jumped immediately on board, suggesting drinking games and putting together a “countryside dare list.” She was the original party girl. I’d lost count of the amount of times I’d had to carry that girl home after a wild night.

The boys had overheard our planning and decided to gate-crash. I wasn’t entirely against the idea. Or at least, I was fine with Jack gate-crashing. He was easy company. It was his best friend Grayson Cockson that made me nervous…

Out of our group, Grayson was the one I liked the least. He had a strong belief in himself. I guess as the owner of a successful restaurant chain, he had the right to believe in his skills, but he was also proud, standoffish, and cocky—traits that I found completely undesirable in a man. Though even I had to admit that everything else about him was desirable. Yes, he was gorgeous, intelligent, rich, and had the muscular body of an athlete, but still… that wasn’t enough to overcome his personality downfalls for me. I tried to spend as little time with Grayson as I could. We were friends by proxy, through Jack, and—despite his constant flirting—I think we were both happy for it to stay that way.

Sighing, I turned back to navigating the dark roads. The possibility of developing my inheritance into the trendiest place in the country to be seen in was slowly slipping away—who would travel this far into the sticks for a drink, no matter how cool it was?

My dream sank even further when I pulled into the carpark. Whilst the pub in my hazy memories and the building in front of me were the same—welcoming, traditional, and a bit on the tatty side—I’d always thought that it could be spruced up and dragged into the modern world. It just needed the right manager, I told myself.

Not likely. The old place was a half-timber, half-brick Tudor structure with thick black support beams running through the white walls. The geometric windows were uneven, and the thatching had definitely seen better days. It wasn’t a look that screamed country cool let alone trendy.

When the rain finally slowed to a light drizzle, I got out of the car and stretched my back. I put my hands in the small of my back and leaned back, enjoying the stretch of my muscles. Behind me, Kingsley was whining to be let out of his harness and explore his new surroundings.

“Does Kingsley need to do business?” I cooed, unsnapping him. Kingsley happily licked my face until the moment I settled him on the floor, then he bounded off, investigating. He was sniffing a nearby weed tangle when I was bathed in a harsh white light. I stood blinking as a sleek black Audi with tinted windows slid into the space besides mine.

My heart sank. I knew who it was even before the driver got out. Who else had a license plate number that read “COCKSON 1.”

“Fuck sake,” I muttered beneath my breath. What the hell was he doing here? He wasn’t supposed to arrive until the morning. Had he been behind me—probably laughing at my nervous driving—the entire time? That would be just like him.

The door opened and Grayson climbed from his seat with the practised ease of someone who spent a lot of time driving luxury cars. He must have come straight from the office because he was still wearing his dark suit, though his jacket was laid across the back seat, and he’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. When he saw me, he smirked, “Fancy meeting you here, Abbey.”

I shot him a hard look. “Yeah, fancy that. Bumping into me at the pub I own. When I said I would be here. Crazy coincidence, right?” Kingsley pulled at the lead, tail wagging. He wanted to sniff out his new friend. “Behave,” I warned. I turned back to Grayson, who was getting his case from the boot of his car. “What are you doing here?”

“You invited me,” he answered, smoothly. He came towards me and bent down to pat Kingsley’s head. To his credit, Kingsley remained sat on his haunches, but he was so happy to be petted that his bottom was wiggling across the ground.

“Stupid dog,” I growled, my bad temper overriding the cute sight. “I invited you tomorrow, Grayson. It’s supposed to be just me and Hussie tonight.”

Grayson was still petting Kingsley. “The message must have got mixed up. Oh, Husna called me about an hour ago. She said she couldn’t get through to you.”

“I was driving.”

“You don’t have a built-in phone system?” He eyed my old, well-used Vauxhall. “Ah, you don’t have a built-in phone system.” This time it was a statement not a question.

“No, I don’t. We can’t all drive top of the line Audi’s. What did she want?” Though of course I already knew…

“She’s not coming,” Grayson said, echoing my thoughts. “She got handed a project with a twenty-four-hour turnaround. Something to do with the prices from Bangladesh. I don’t know what a buyer does.” He shrugged, dismissively. “Either way, she’ll be driving up tomorrow morning with Jack.”

“Just great,” I muttered, more than a little uncharitably. “Well, come on then.” I gently pulled on Kingsley’s lead to make him move, then I went to grab my case. Before I could lift it, Grayson had already taken the handle.

“I can get that,” I said, reaching for the case again.

He yanked it out of my reach. “It’s no bother.”

I felt a flare of anger at his dismissive dominance. He didn’t ask if he could help, he was telling me he would help. And that annoyed the shit out of me. I didn’t need his help. I briefly considered arguing over it, but since I’d already been rude, I decided to let it go. I gave a mental shrug and started walking towards the pub, letting him stroll behind me like a porter. It annoyed me that he did it with no complaint, just smirking that smirk, as if he was enjoying my irritation.

He cleared his throat. “So, this is your pub?”

“Yes. It’s won pub of the year three times and is a grade II listed building. Were you expecting Quaglino’s?” I asked defensively, naming his favourite London bar, a famous haunt of celebrities and socialites.

“Not at all,” he answered, pushing the heavy wooden doors open. The welcoming warmth of the pub hit us immediately and I felt the chill start to leave my bones. We walked into the main drinking area where it was mostly empty with the exception of one or two drinkers nursing their pints of beer. The fire wasn’t exactly roaring in the old stone hearth but the embers were glowing a dull, warming red. The smells of decades-old cigarette smoke, stale beer, and greasy food hung cloyingly in the air. Strangely, I liked the smell. There was something familiar about it. Something comfortable but unfancy, like eating a bowl of stew or wearing an old favourite jumper.

“I like it. It has potential,” Grayson said from behind me. I could smell the masculine scent of his cologne.

“Do you think?” I asked, honestly interested. He’d started his restaurant empire from scratch so he was a man who knew his trade. Despite his arrogance, in this I thought I could I trust him.

His gaze locked on mine. The corner of his mouth lifted. He opened his mouth to say something then shut it again. There was a long moment and then he said, “That depends; is the pub haunted?”

I laughed. To distract myself from the sudden tension between us, I picked up Kingsley and held him in my arms. “Yes, it is. I’ve heard all the tales about it.”

He cocked his head. “Seriously? I was joking, Abbey. You really expect me to believe it’s haunted.”

My cheeks started to heat from the intensity of his gaze. I couldn’t take it; I broke eye contact first. “Believe what you want, Grayson. I’m just telling you there’s an urban legend about a ghost. Granny told me.”

“She’s right, sir,” said a voice from behind the bar. Both of us turned to see a matronly lady of around sixty watching us, her watery eyes unflinching and hard. Her hair was pulled back into an untidy bun. Startled, Kingsley started to bark and growl at her.

“Hush!” I scolded, stroking his fur. He stopped barking but his eyes never left the woman.

“Are you Miss Lacey?”

“I am. Please, call me Abbey.”

“I’m Joanna.”

“Nice to meet you. Granny’s talking about you before.”

“Has she?” She made it sound like an accusation.

“Yes. Always in a nice way though,” I lied. Granny had told me that Joanna was a bossy, rude, but very efficient manager. I always got the feeling there was no love between the two women. “I haven’t been here since I was a child. How did you know it was me?”

She gave me an open once over. “You don’t look like you belong around here. Neither does he.” She said, jabbing a meaty finger over to where Grayson was standing. Despite the rudeness, I had to admit that she had a point; Grayson looked far too handsome and polished in comparison to the other men in the room. They were wearing jeans covered in stains and walking boots that were thick with mud.

Grayson arched an eyebrow. “So, the old place is haunted, is it?”

“Yes,” she said, shortly. “It’s the Lacey legend. One of your ancestors killed a local, Abbey. Murdered Mr. Jack Wilson. The name is still remembered around these parts. It was a land dispute apparently, over the land that this very pub sits on. Jack now roams the pub, seeking his revenge on the Lacey family.”

Grayson laughed. “What, forever?”

“Until the last Lacey’s dead,” she said, the hardness in her eyes back. “How’s your gran?”

“She passed away a few weeks ago. I thought you’d been told.”

“No, I haven’t been told. I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “So, you’re the last Lacey now?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “I’ve given you the back room. One of the local girls has been in and cleaned it. She’s replaced the bedding and there’s towels in the bathroom. Shall I show you up?”

“Yes, please.” I answered. I wanted to freshen up before going for drinks in the bar with Grayson. I briefly contemplated making excuses and going straight to bed, but I thought that would be far too rude. He had made the long drive here, after all.

Uninvited, my mind whispered, but he was here now so I had no choice but to spend the evening entertaining him and his cocky attitude.

Joanna pulled out a bell from beneath the bar and gave it a short, sharp clang. An ancient man of around fifty immediately appeared. He gave both me and Grayson a once over, then without saying anything to either of us, spoke just to Joanna. “Yes.”

“Get their bags, Tom.” She gave him a look that I didn’t understand.

Tom nodded, took our bags, then disappeared up the stairs. I cleared my throat, “Which room will Grayson be in?”

“Yours,” she stated.

I turned to her, horrified. “Pardon?”

She came around the other side of the bar, holding a huge ring of keys. “Yours, Abbey. This is an old building. It has just three bedrooms. Mine, yours, and the one used for the office. We were going to put the camping beds in the office tomorrow for when your gentleman friends arrived, but the cleaning girl hasn’t managed to set the office to rights yet. Don’t worry, it’ll be ready for you tomorrow.” She ushered us towards the back room.

“Yes, but Grayson is here tonight,”  I argued, resisting her hand. “We can’t share a bed. How bad is the office?” If the worst comes to the worst, I’d be happy to sleep on a camp bed in the office if it meant being away from Grayson. I didn’t trust him and I didn’t trust his cocky attitude to bedding women. He saw it as a challenge.

Joanna stopped. “Bad. It’ll take hours to clear.” She appraised us both, letting her eyes take in how far apart we were standing. “You two aren’t together?”

“No,” I said, my cheeks so hot now that Grayson would be able to see my embarrassment. I swallowed. “No, we’re not together.”

“Very well. I can set up a camp bed in your room. Would that be okay?”

I went to tell her that it absolutely would not be okay, but Grayson overrode me before I could even get the words out. “That will be fine, Joanna. Thank you.”

As we were walking up the narrow backstairs—single-filed and with Joanna in the lead—Grayson’s lips touched my ears. “Would sharing my bed really be that bad, Abbey?” he murmured. “I could protect you from the ghost of Jack Wilson…”

Though the gentle touch of his lips raised goose bumps across my skin, I pretended I hadn’t heard him. Turning, I said over my shoulder, “Did you say something?”

He met my eyes. “You know I did.”

“I didn’t hear.”

“Liar.”

I didn’t answer him.

The room was actually quite nice. I was expecting some dank room that hadn’t been used in years but, though a little dated, the room was warm, cosy, and comfortable. It was a little… floral. The curtains and carpet were covered with roses, the bedding was printed with daisies and was ruffled around the edges, and the walls were painted a plain beige but had a border of more roses.

“How quaint,” Grayson said. I could hear the amusement in his voice. He dropped the bags to the floor and walked around the room, looking over the ancient furniture and kitsch ornaments. Kinsgley followed him, his dangling ears flopping happily as he sniffed at Grayson’s lower leg. Whether it was because the ceilings were lower at the older part of the building or because I was used to only seeing him in uber-modern surroundings, Grayson looked huge. He had a primal intensity about him that made my body clench.

“Well, I’ll leave you both to settle in. Come down to the bar when you’re ready,” Joanna said, then she left.

As soon as the door closed behind her, I let out a blustery breath. “Well, that was…”

“Hilarious,” he laughed. It was deep and warm and made my skin tingle. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”

I shook my head. “Gran always said that she wanted the pub for herself. Joanna asked Gran to sell it to her several times.”

“Why didn’t your Gran sell? She never really visited, did she? I get the feeling that neither of you really cared about the place.”

“Because it belongs in the family, Grayson, and has done for the last three hundred years,” I answered. “But it’s no wonder Gran never brought me here as a child.”

“I don’t think it’s just to do with Joanna.”

I looked up at him, surprised. “No?”

He smirked. “There’s a ghost out to get you, remember?”

I elbowed him, catching him in the stomach. I was momentarily surprised by how hard it was. “That’s just nonsense.”

“Is it?” He brought his hands up and placed them on my shoulder, then he dipped his head so he could look me directly in the eyes. “Until we leave this place, I’ll be sticking close to you, sweet. Just to be sure.”

Unable to tear my eyes away, I stood staring at him, my breathing becoming hoarse. Then I blinked and pulled myself out of his grip. I made myself smile, pretending I wasn’t affected by him at all. That I didn’t want him to touch me. “Seriously?” I asked, putting my hand on my hip. “Does that line work with the rest of the women?”

“None of my other women were haunted.”

“First; I’m not haunted— ”

“That’s not what Joanna says,” he shot back.

“—and secondly,” I continued, overriding him. “I’m not “your woman.” I never will be. So, don’t lump me into that category.”

He studied me for a moment and then his face broke into a wide smile. He reached out and cupped my cheek. “You liked me saying that you were my woman, didn’t you?”

“You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” Before he could answer, I unzipped my case and flipped the lid over. Then I gasped with dismay. Not only had my shampoo bottle exploded but so had my conditioner and body wash. Everything was covered in a scented gloop. Not even my underwear had escaped the soapy bath. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“What’s happened?” Grayson asked. He peered over my shoulder. He was standing so close that I could feel his warm breath down my neck. “Oh, shit. Look at that mess.” He grinned at me. “It’s the ghost, Abbey. He doesn’t want you to wear any clothes.”

To put some distance between us, I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Stop it. It isn’t funny. What do I do now?”

“Wear one of my t-shirts,” he said, making it sound like I was being dramatic. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve brought spares. We can go into the local village tomorrow morning to replace what’s ruined.”

I was still wearing my office clothes. I could get another day out of my black jeans but my blouse was wrinkled and dirty. I didn’t fancy wearing it for another day. “I couldn’t do that,” I said slowly.

“Yes, you can. And you will. Any woman of mine can wear my shirts.” He paused, turning to look at me. He cocked an eyebrow. “Did that get you hot? Me, naming you my woman?”

“Fuck off, Grayson,” I said, my heart pounding in my chest. He was right in front of me.

“I’d rather do this.” Before I could ask what he meant, he touch his lips lightly against mine. Without thinking, I sank against his body, even though everything about me was screaming “mistake!” Still, the lure of his soft lips was too much. The kiss grew urgent and I opened up to let his tongue slide against mine. He growled into my mouth, sending a burst of arousal through my body. I knew if I didn’t stop, I might regret what came next…

Ignoring my protesting body, I pulled away. Grayson let me, though he was watching me warily, as if waiting for my explosion. So, I grinned. “Not bad,” I said, my body aching. “But not enough to get me into bed.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, his body rigid and firm. But there was twinkle in his eye. “Come on, it’s just a bit of fun. I want you. I know you want me, Abbey. So tell me, what would get you into bed?”

I gave him a cheeky wink before turning my back on him—and my almost overwhelming arousal. “You couldn’t afford it, Cockson.”

***

The evening was actually good fun. We ate our meals in the main drinking area, Grayson grumbling good-naturedly about the greasiness of the food and the wobbling table, and I kept laughing at him. I knew he was putting on the charm to make a point—that he had the skills to bed even the least receptive person—but it was absolutely working. I hated to admit that he was a good conversationalist, witty, and was fun to be around… when he was trying. I just had to ignore his innate cockiness.

The part of the evening that wasn’t so nice was when the pictures fell off the wall. It was strange; they were old paintings of my family from a hundred years ago, and they’d clearly been there since they’d been painted. But it was like they’d just… jumped off the wall.

“It’s the ghost,” Grayson had teased, hanging them back up. “He wants you…” But when he’d looked, the picture hooks had been old and rusted, and they snapped cleanly through.

Still, it made me feel anxious. Particularly when Kingsley did nothing but stare at the spot where the pictures had hung, as if something was still in the walls. First the soap explosion, now the pictures both falling at the same time… I didn’t believe in ghosts, but it was enough to make me a little fearful.

Though I’d never admit it to Grayson, I was kind of glad he was here with me.

We ended up drinking far too much wine. He’d chosen the best available and had insisted on paying for it—even when I’d argued that it was my pub and my wine. I’d let the matter slide earlier in the evening because it wasn’t worth fighting him over, but when Joanna brought over a second bottle to our table, I raised the issue again.

“I never let a lady pay on a date,” he said, not listening to my complaints. He reached over to top up my glass. “Drop it, Abbey. You won’t win this one.”

“First of all, I’m not your date and—”

“—second of all, you’re not a lady?” He finished, taking a sip from his glass. He raised an eyebrow, clearly goading me.

“And I don’t need you to pay for anything. This is my pub.”

“And I’ll be putting five stars on my review for Ye Olde Cocke on TripAdvisor.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Though I’ll be mentioning the floral décor.”

I ignored the jibe. I knew he was loving the cosy atmosphere. “It’s not pronounced “yee,”” I corrected. “The Y is actually an old typography style. It’s just a symbol meaning “the.” The pub is just The Old Cocke.”

His smile was back. One finger traced around the rim of his wine glass. “Is that so?”

I appraised him, my eyes narrowing. After a minute I said, “You knew that, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “It’s called a Thorn.”

“How did you know that?”

“I did my research.” His gaze darkened. “I always do my research.”

My stomach clenched at his words, as did something a little lower down my body. His eyes held mine for a long moment. “What does that mean?” I finally asked, hating how my voice trembled.

“I’ll show you, if you want?” He stood up and held his hand out to me.

For the wildest of moments, I was tempted to take it. Then I shook my head, trying to clear the sudden wave of desire I felt for him. “Keep your hands to yourself, Cockson. Not interested, remember. You’re not my type.”

A flash of something darted across his face but it was gone before I could tell what it was. “Rich and handsome isn’t your type?”

I rolled my eyes. “Cocky and arrogant isn’t my type.”

“I looked like your type when we kissed. You wanted me.”

I stood up. “I’m going to take Kingsley for his last walk of the evening. Then I’m going to bed. Alone.” I added, when his expression warmed with interest.

The evening was cold but I dashed outside with Kingsley, who looked as eager as I did to get back to the warmth of the fire. I was wearing just Grayson’s t-shirt and, as comfortable as it was—and so deliciously scented that I wanted to bury my nose into the fabric and breath it deep—it did nothing to ward off the bitter wind.

“Come on, Kingsley, do your business…” I pleaded as the dog sniffed for the perfect spot. I was bobbing up and down, arms crossed over my chest, teeth chattering. “Come on—”

I froze.

A noise came from behind me. It was a light whispering sound, as if someone was muttering beneath their breath continually. I whirled around. “W-who’s there?”

A horrible hoarse sound answered me. “Lady Lacey”

My blood ran cold. Kingsley started to bark. He was looking into the darkness, his teeth bared, his ears pricked. “Who the fuck is there?” I yelled, sounding more afraid than firm.

“Lady Lacey…”

When the muttering drew closer but I still couldn’t see through the darkness, I decided to get the fuck out of there. I scooped Kingsley up—who was still growling towards nothing—and darted back inside, my entire body trembling.

I was just through the door when I bumped into something hard and tall. I didn’t fall back on my arse, but I did stumble and hit the door frame hard. Immediately an arm snaked around my waist, steadying me.

“What the—”

I didn’t care. Those voices were still in my ears. I scrabbled away, wanting to put distance between myself and the outside. Kingsley was still growling and he snapped at the outstretched arm.

“For God’s sake, Abbey, what the hell happened?” Grayson yelled, following me into the pub.

“There was someone out there! They were calling my name!”

“What?” Without waiting for me to answer, he darted outside. I didn’t follow him. I was still too shaken up. My arms were aching from carrying Kingsley, so I lowered him to the floor. I sat down on a chair waiting for Grayson to come back in.

He was gone a long time.

As I waited, my fear grew. Was Grayson in danger? Would the person—ghost, my mind corrected automatically—behind the voice hurt him? My hands, cold from being outside, were now shaking. By my feet, Kingsley was upright and alert, his ears pricked, his attention focused solely on the door. The minutes passed and still Grayson didn’t return. I was starting to panic.

I was just about to force myself to my feet to go back outside when the door opened. Grayson burst through. Behind him came Joanna. She looked red-face and angry… but not nearly as angry as Grayson. His entire body was rigid with fury. He loomed over the barmaid, radiating a dominant power that made my heart race.

I got to my feet. “What happened? Joanna, are you okay?”

“It was her,” he said through gritted teeth. “It was all her. The soap. The pictures. The whispering. She was trying to drive you out of the pub. To sell it. She wanted it for herself.”

“You don’t deserve it!” Joanna cried with vehemence. Her ugly face twisted. “You and your family. You never deserved this land!”

I stood frozen. Then I turned to Grayson. “What’s going on?”

“There is no ghost, Abbey! It was all just a story to get your family to sell the pub. She was hiding in the bushes—in the fucking bushes—waiting to scare you. It was like something from Scooby-fucking-do.”

I flinched. I’d never seen him so angry before. His eyes were blazing and every time he looked over at Joanna, his lip curled. “You wanted me to sell?” I asked her.

“The Lacey’s have never deserved this land,” she muttered, clearly about to cry.

It all clicked then. The clear dislike of me, the interest in the legend…

“You’re a Wilson, aren’t you?”

She straightened her back. “Descended from John himself. This is my land. Your murdering family killed for it.”

“Do you want to call the police?” Grayson asked.

“For what? Attempted fright-icide?” I asked, shaking my head. “No. They won’t do anything.”

“Fine.” He turned to where Joanna was now leaning against a table, tears trickling down her cheeks. “Get your things and go. You leave tonight.”

“You can’t fire me. I’ve worked here all my life.”

“I can and am,” he said, the authority clear in his voice.

Joanna stumbled away from him. She shot me a dark look and then ran out the front door, Kingsley snarling at her as she passed. We stood frozen, listening as a car roared to life and then drove away.

“She’ll probably be back tomorrow,” he warned, locking the door behind her. When he saw me still seated in my chair, hands trembling, tear tracks on my cheeks, his body softened. “Come here, sweetheart.” He pulled me into his arms and I went willingly. Tired and upset, the feel of his huge body pressed against mine was exactly what I needed at that moment. I buried my head in his chest, loving how safe and protected he made me feel.

“It’s all right,” he soothed. “Kingsley had your back.”

I gave a watery chuckle. “He did have my back. And so did you,” I said, pulling my head away from his chest to look him directly in the eyes. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.”

“Well, I was here, sweet,” he said, kissing the top of my hair. I could feel the scruff of his beard catching in my loose hair. “What are you going to do about the pub? You don’t have a manager now.”

“I have no idea. I’ll figure something out.”

“I can help if you want?”

I looked up at him, smiling. “Yeah? Managerial help from successful entrepreneur Grayson Cockson? How much will that boon cost me?”

He took my hand in his, locking our fingers together. He rubbed little circles on the back of my hand in such a suggestive manner that I couldn’t help but blush. Then he took my head in his hands, cupping my cheeks, and lowered his face so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath on my skin. “It’ll cost you a kiss.”

I pulled myself up so I was face-to-face with him, my arousal kicking back into life with surprising speed. “I can afford that,” I said, recalling our earlier conversation. “But that sounds like an easy deal. The last one you got for free.”

He lightly kissed one corner of my mouth and then moved so our lips were almost touching. It was maddening. I wanted him so badly. “Nothing about you is easy,” he murmured.

“It won’t ever be.”

“I like a challenge.”

“Enough talk.”

 

If you liked The Cocky Cockers and want another free story, check out INKarnate. You can download it for free here: US UK CA Kobo

Book 1 — INKarnate: When Emily begins an apprenticeship at the renowned tattoo studio Inkomplete, she didn’t realise she was stepping into a world very different from her middle-class upbringing. But not everybody is happy about her dipping her toe into new waters. Famous tattoo artist, Matt Jones, knows she doesn’t belong…

The Interview from Matt’s perspective.

As part of some bonus content for the lovely Cori Vidae over at P&K, I re-wrote an INKarnate scene from an alternative perspective. For those who are familiar with INKarnate (totally free, find it here), Emily goes for an interview at the INKomplete tattoo studio. The interview doesn’t go well. In fact, Matt makes it clear he doesn’t like her and doesn’t want her as a work colleague.

Now we find out why…

 

 

Matt: The Other Side of the Interview

Mara Malins

The girl walked from the room, her head held high, her gaze fixed forward, her sensible heels clicking softly on the tiled floor. Matt waited for her eyes to flick over to where he was sitting, but she didn’t even so much as glance his way. That annoyed Matt; he wasn’t used to being ignored, he was used to women wanting his attention. He was the famous Matt Jones, talented and award-winning tattoo artist and the unofficial face of the local kink scene. People came to this tattoo studio to be inked by him specifically, just for the kudos of having his work etched on their skin.

Which was why being ignored by this pretty girl was both frustrating and amusing.

He knew her reaction to him was partly because they’d had a silent battle of wills only a few moments ago, a battle that Matt wasn’t entirely sure who had won. He wanted to feel triumph but knew it wasn’t justified. The girl—Emily, Matt reminded himself by looking at the resumé in front of him—was interviewing for the trainee placement at the tattoo studio along with a dozen other candidates. He’d noticed her immediately because she’d stuck out like a sore thumb.

INKomplete was known for its artists and clientele; both firmly centred in the kink scene. Matt didn’t dress quite as overtly sexual as Josephina or Phoenix, but he’d certainly dabbled in the…er… nightly activities. They all had. This girl clearly didn’t have a clue what she was getting herself into, and it rubbed Matt the wrong way. She didn’t fit in here. At all. She was dressed like a fucking school teacher—all prim and proper and in a matching twinset! How could she be so clueless about the job she was applying for?

The silent battle of wills had come from the first part of the interview. Blakey—the owner of INKomplete—had asked the candidates to demonstrate their artistic skills by designing a tattoo with a specific brief in mind. Matt had watched Emily closely as she worked. In fact, he’d had eyes for nobody else. He wanted her to fail. He wanted her to realise that she was out of her depth. He wanted her to realise that she didn’t fit in in at INKomplete.

He wanted her.

That unnerved him. When was the last time he’d wanted a woman? And a woman who looked like Emily? She was nothing like the other women he’d dated… if the word “dated” applied to consensual fucking with no strings attached. Matt would hazard a guess that this was a woman who’d experienced nothing but vanilla in the bedroom. In fact, he wondered vaguely whether she might even be a virgin.

So, he’d watched her, hoping she’d fail. He didn’t like wanting someone to fail, but he also didn’t like the effect she’d had on him. If she failed, then there would be no reason to ever see her again, no reason to think of her again.

But the girl hadn’t failed. In fact, she had some serious skill. There was no doubt about that. Even beneath his constant gaze, her finished work had stood out from the rest of the candidates. Towards the end of the session, her drawings had grown cruder, more sensual, and Matt couldn’t help but wonder if it was in reaction to his watching. It was almost as if she’d understood his silent challenge and had risen to it.

It was really fucking hot.

The whole experience, of watching her draw sexy images whilst totally ignoring him had really turned him on. It was like she was goading him. Taunting him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone the way he wanted her—so immediate and intense—and it made him angry. Not just because he rarely felt this way, but for more practical reasons; how could he continue to work if just watching her was a turn on? She’d be too distracting. Even now, the way she walked past him with her head held high… he couldn’t take his eyes from her.

Was she doing it on purpose? Was that it?

Matt bolted upright in his chair. She was playing him, wasn’t she? She was playing them all. Clearly she wasn’t as an innocent as she was letting on. He just had to look at her hot drawings to know that. So, the school teacher act was just for show, wasn’t it? How had he not seen it earlier? The disinterest. The indifference. The dressing so unlike anyone around her… it was all a game, wasn’t it? She was doing it to stand out. To get noticed.

And Matt had almost fallen for it.

The thought made him angry. He was an honest person by nature, and he didn’t like to be around liars or manipulative people.

“Well, there’s only one person for the job for me,” Blakey said, oblivious to Matt’s sudden epiphany. He was carrying the stack of the candidate’s artwork back to the table where Matt, Joe, and Phee were sitting. Matt couldn’t help but notice that Emily’s sophisticated work was at the top of the pile.

Matt reached over and slid the heavy paper towards him. The closer it got, the more detail he could see. She’d worked in pencil—his own preferred method. It was exquisite. The last piece—a detailed design for a tattoo sleeve—kept drawing his gaze. Emily had wound a three-tongued whip through a scattering of sensual images; an opened mouth, a rounded breast, splayed fingers. It made him think of sex—just like she knew it would. He pushed it away with disgust.

“Yeah, I agree,” Joe said, nodding. She came to stand behind Matt and pulled the work back towards them. “It really is wonderful stuff. So unexpected,” Joe continued. “I mean, she doesn’t look the part but… wow.”

Matt kept his voice calm though inside he wanted to shake his friend and tell her she was being played, just like he was. How could she not see that? “You mean this Emily girl? Seriously? There’s nothing special here,” Matt lied, snorting. “I mean, she’s a fucking pet portrait artist. They’re a dime a dozen.”

Joe shook her head. “That might be her day job but…”

“She’s got somethin’, hasn’t she?” Blakey agreed.

“Absolutely. I think she’s seriously talented,” Joe said, picking up the paper and walking back to her chair.

“And you?” Matt asked, looking at Phoenix. Had everybody been taken in by this girl’s cutesy act?

Phee didn’t reply immediately. She ran her hands through her flame red hair, studying Matt’s expression. She gave him a strange look, her head cocked to one side. “Why do you look so angry about it, Matt? Do you know her?”

“No, of course not,” Matt answered, his tone colder than he’d intended. “But I think we’re overlooking the other candidate’s work. She’s not the best here. Not by a long shot.”

“Yeah, she is,” Blakey argued. He was shuffling through the rest of the artwork. “Nobody has even come close. I haven’t seen talent like that since… well, since you came along, Matt. I mean, the bald-headed girl did some interesting work but none of it can translate into tattoos.”

“She’s not suitable,” Matt shot back, rubbing his temples. “She’s not the one.”

“What’s going on, Matt? Why are you so against her?” Phee asked, then her eyes widened. “Oh my god, have you slept with her? Is that what the problem is?”

Matt couldn’t stand to look at their questioning expressions anymore. This wasn’t about him. It was about her. How could he explain that they were being played? That she was just pretending. How could they trust such a manipulative person? Angry but not able to reign the feeling in, he pushed away from the table and got to his feet. “Are you kidding me? Does she look like she’d fit in at the studio? At the club?” He asked, talking about Indecency, a club where people with a preference for firmer, kinkier sexual interactions were able to hook-up and meet like-minded partners. He knew Emily had never stepped foot in there before… for starters, he would have noticed her.

Joe laughed. She looked like she was enjoying Matt’s discomfort. “I don’t know what she might get up to at weekends, Matt. For all I know, she’s kinkier than all of us put together.”

“Not her,” is all he said. “She doesn’t fit in with us or our image.”

“We don’t sell the lifestyle, Matt,” Blakey broke in. “We sell our work. You know that.”

“I know. And I do. But she just doesn’t fit, Blakes.” He sighed, knowing this conversation was going nowhere fast. “Can we at least discuss the other candidates?”

Matt didn’t usually weigh in on studio decisions but when he did, it normally went his way, so he was surprised when Blakey shook his head. “I think we’re all agreed on Emily but you. Let’s take a vote.”

“My vote is for Emily,” Joe said immediately. Her gaze met Matt’s and her lips twitched upwards. “I think she’d be a good addition to the team.”

“Mine too,” Phee said, leaning back in her chair as if the whole situation was settled.

Matt turned away from them with an angry sound. “I’m voting for the bald-headed girl,” he said, speaking solely to Blakey. When Blakey went to argue with him, Matt raised his voice. “That’s my vote, Blakes. You can’t argue with it. Her work is just as strong as Emily’s. Maybe even stronger. It might not translate into tattoos very well but it’s something she can learn on the job.”

“So, we’re at two to one on Emily, and Blakey has the deciding vote,” Phee said.

“I’m sorry Matt…” Blakey said slowly. “Emily is the strongest. I don’t know what’s going on between you two—”

“Nothing is going on!” Matt snapped, throwing his hands into the air. “She’s just not the best talent in the room. You’re making the wrong decision!”

“This is my studio,” Blakey said, a little heat in his voice. “And I say Emily is our girl. That’s my final decision.”

Matt wasn’t sure whether it was because the vote hadn’t gone his way, or the way Phee was smirking, but he lost his temper. In a rare show of anger, he kicked the chair leg. “You have got to be kidding me!” He roared. “No fucking way. She looks like a school teacher! Do you want to lose all credibility?”

“Lower your voice,” Blakey hissed, glancing at the door, concerned. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

Suddenly ashamed, Matt took a deep calming breath. He wasn’t sure where his outburst had come from. He rarely lost his temper. Besides, he knew that look on  Blakey’s face; he was decided. They all were.  Continuing to argue wasn’t going to get Matt anywhere.

All he could hope for was that Emily might fuck up face-to-face. She might be beautiful, she might be talented… but she might also be awkward and difficult in person.

“Look, let’s do a round of true interviews,” he suggested, in a softer more reasonable tone. “Face-to-face. Have a chat with each of the candidates. Get to know them. We can see who would be the right fit for the team. We don’t really know anything about her, do we? About any of them.”

Blakey rubbed a hand over his huge stomach, considering. There was a hole in the fabric of his t-shirt and Matt could see the older man’s skin peeking out. “Okay,” Blakey said, “If it’ll make you happy, let’s do it. But Matt, we might not change our minds.”

Matt gave a soft sigh of relief. He started to stack the chairs to the side of the room, leaving just one in front of the table for the candidate. “But you might,” he reasoned. Then, because he wanted to delay seeing Emily again for as long as possible, he added, “Let’s see the bald-headed girl first. Can you bring her in?”

 

If you want to read INKarnate to see Emily’s side of the story, you can buy it here for free! >>>>  US   UK    CA    Kobo

Book 1 — INKarnate: When Emily begins an apprenticeship at the renowned tattoo studio Inkomplete, she didn’t realise she was stepping into a world very different from her middle-class upbringing. But not everybody is happy about her dipping her toe into new waters. Famous tattoo artist, Matt Jones, knows she doesn’t belong…

Blog post round up!

Hola Amigos!

It’s been a busy few weeks for me! Not only have I had another short story accepted (*happy dance*) and submitted another two, I was also asked to write a series of guest blogs over at the P&K website about my INKomplete series.

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what else I could blog about. I feel like I drained my tank dry and said most of what I had to say in the pre-release promotional build up (which you can find here: INKarnate, INKapable, INKurable, and INKonsolable). Turns out, I still had just enough left in me to do another three blogs! I thought I’d list them all here

The first blog is all about the aftermath of publishing my series and my thoughts and feelings about the whole process. You can find that one here.

The second blog technically wasn’t written recently. It’s the first chapter of the INKarnate, so if you fancy taking a goosey-gander, you can find it here.

For the third blog, I decided to put out some free bonus content. For those who have already read INKarnate (and it’s free, my friends, find it here), this is the interview scene but from Matt’s perspective.

The last and final blog was the most fun to write! I decided to pull together a list of the top five tattoo stories I’d read when researching the details for the INKomplete series and share them with the world. I’m not going to lie, there’s some hilarious and some disturbing stories on the list! Find it here.

All in all, it was a fun few weeks writing these blogs!

Just a quick thank you…

It’s here! It’s here! It’s finally here!

Today is the day that my series of short stories finally flies out into the world, ready for someone to pick up and read. They’ve left the nest. My babies are all growed-ed up! I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am about it

There are other blogs out there (mostly here) trying to tempt you into buying my words so I’ll just leave the links down below for you to do your thang (if you’re interested, that is).  For now, I just want to take a few sentences to say thank you…

Thank you to those who showed support on Twitter by sharing and signal boosting my tweets. Every single one of them was like a little push to the front of the class, putting me out there, letting me stand on their shoulders. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the writing community and the #amwriting hashtag truly contains some of the most supportive and kindest people out there.

Thank you to those who left a review on Goodreads and Amazon and the like. I won’t bang on about how important reviews are for algorithms and whatnot (though we all know they are!) but I will say how wonderful it is knowing somebody took a few minutes out of their day to write something nice about your work. The support in those reviews are like big ‘ole hugs.

Thank you to those who pre-ordered the series. I’d like to think it was my amazing storytelling that drew those orders in but there is no doubt in my mind that at least a few of them came from those who think it is important to support indie authors.

But most of all, thank you to Cori and Elesha who worked tirelessly in making my writing readable, in getting it out there, in making me understand how it all works. Sitting and tapping out a series of stories is one thing, but the steep learning curve between submission and publication is a whole other ball game…

I won’t turn this into an Academy award winner speech but I thought it was important to take a few seconds to acknowledge all the hard word and kindness that has gone into this amazing journey.

Right… I’m off to drink some celebratory wine!

p.s. I haven’t forgotten about the necklace competition. I’ll be emailing the winners at the weekend so there’s still time to win this gorgeous “Book lover” necklace. Can you even call yourself a bibliophile if you don’t have one….?

 

 

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When Emily begins an apprenticeship at the renowned tattoo studio INKomplete, she didn’t realise she was stepping into a world very different from her middle-class upbringing. But not everybody is happy about her dipping her toe into new waters. Famous tattoo artist, Matt Jones, knows she doesn’t belong. What’s he got against her, and how far will he go to drive her away?

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

After her husband walked out on her, leaving her to provide for their daughter alone, Joe has no intention of relying on a man for anything ever again. As a successful tattoo artist, she can take care of what’s hers. The only thing she needs is a little fun every now and again. And if a gorgeous man offers her exactly what she needs, if they both know what they’re getting into, it can’t get messy, can it?

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

Phee has breast cancer. As heart-breaking as it is, she’s determined to be strong so her friends don’t worry. They’re a family, so if she hurts, they hurt, and she can’t allow that. But when lines start to blur between her and her handsome surgeon, trying to hold everything together suddenly feels like the real fight.

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

It’s been five years since Blakey’s beautiful wife Elizabeth died and his grief is just as sharp today as it was back then. But now he’s desperately lonely too. As he becomes closer to his friend Aisleyne, Blakey fights it with everything he has. How could he even think about moving on? No, friendship is all he has to offer. That will have to be enough.

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBOe

The Hardest Story I’ve Ever Written…

I’ve been writing some posts over at P&K Blog about my new INKomplete series. This is the third post of four so I’ll be posting them here out of sync. Ah well…

 

 

 

 

 

The Hardest Story I’ve Ever Written…

Have you ever attempted to write something that touches on a topic so important, so meaningful to so many people, that you’re terrified of… well, fucking it up?

I can’t begin to explain the doubt I felt when writing INKurable, the third story in the INKomplete series. My main character, Phee, is diagnosed with breast cancer earlier in the series and this story describes her journey as she comes to term with the illness and how it affects both her mind and body.

Cancer touches so many people’s lives that there is no doubt that at least one person reading about Phee’s journey will have a personal experience of their own, either through their own diagnosis or that of a loved one. The thought of getting it wrong, of not doing that journey justice, really did make writing this story so much more difficult than I thought it would be.

Firstly, there was more research involved for this than for anything else I’ve ever written—including my dissertation! If you get the technical details wrong on something like this then you lose the reader at page one. I’m not saying it’s perfect—it’s far from it, in fact—but I gave it my best shot and took a lot of time reading up on the details. I really wanted INKurable to be realistic.

But to be realistic, it wasn’t just the technical details that it was imperative I get right. The emotional impact of cancer—on both the patient and their friends and family—was also absolutely crucial to the story. I have to admit that more than once I thought about abandoning the theme after reading personal experiences in my research. Firstly, I wasn’t sure that an erotic romance was the right place to tackle something so emotional. Secondly, I wasn’t at all sure I could do it justice.

I’ve spoken in a previous blog about how I wanted each of the novellas in the INKomplete series to represent a different stage in life; young love, parenthood, deterioration of health, and grief. It didn’t feel right to skip a stage just because it was difficult. In fact, that felt like the right reason to write the story; because it was difficult. Life is difficult and you don’t get to hopscotch over the tough bits. People get cancer. It’s shitty but it happens.

In the end I decided to suck it up and go for it because, as Maya Angelou so beautifully puts it, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

Phee’s story needed to be told. It was important for the series and I wanted to do it.

Even then my fear wasn’t over. In deciding to go ahead with the theme, I knew I would have to walk a fine line in balancing the romance element alongside the fight for survival. If there was too much romance, I ran the risk of Phee’s cancer becoming a flippant and unnecessary subplot. Too little and the story would become very gloomy indeed.

Whether or not I was successful is entirely up to the reader to decide. I’d like to think I got more right than wrong in INKurable, I’d like to think it’s relatable whilst still being a good erotic romance, and I’d like to think that Pete and Phee have the story they deserve. I’m so proud that not only did I give it a go, but that I finished with a story that’s in the ballpark of what I was going for. I feel like I can definitely chalk this up as a win… even if it was the hardest thing I’ve ever written!

I’d be really interested in hearing about other author’s difficult stories. What made it difficult? How did you solve it? Let me know in the comments or over on Twitter here 

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When Emily begins an apprenticeship at the renowned tattoo studio INKomplete, she didn’t realise she was stepping into a world very different from her middle-class upbringing. But not everybody is happy about her dipping her toe into new waters. Famous tattoo artist, Matt Jones, knows she doesn’t belong. What’s he got against her, and how far will he go to drive her away?

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

 

After her husband walked out on her, leaving her to provide for their daughter alone, Joe has no intention of relying on a man for anything ever again. As a successful tattoo artist, she can take care of what’s hers. The only thing she needs is a little fun every now and again. And if a gorgeous man offers her exactly what she needs, if they both know what they’re getting into, it can’t get messy, can it?

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

 

Phee has breast cancer. As heart-breaking as it is, she’s determined to be strong so her friends don’t worry. They’re a family, so if she hurts, they hurt, and she can’t allow that. But when lines start to blur between her and her handsome surgeon, trying to hold everything together suddenly feels like the real fight.

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

 

It’s been five years since Blakey’s beautiful wife Elizabeth died and his grief is just as sharp today as it was back then. But now he’s desperately lonely too. As he becomes closer to his friend Aisleyne, Blakey fights it with everything he has. How could he even think about moving on? No, friendship is all he has to offer. That will have to be enough.

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

Guest blogging.

It’s less than three weeks away until the release of my erotica series, INKomplete. To celebrate, I’ve been writing a few guest blogs over at the P&K blog – one for each story in the series.

For the first blog, I talk about what I call my “bam!” moments—the moment that a few ideas collide together to create a story. I’ve heard other writers call them Eureka moments or the “moment of conception,” which sounds very grand to me! Read my guest blog to find out what my Bam! moment was for INKarnate.

For the second blog… I wrote about the idea of single parent sacrifices and how single parents seem to give up so much more than couple-parents. It was an idea I explored in my second story, INKapable, and I wanted to explain how I approached Joe’s story.

Head over to P&K to read my words. The third one is due soon!

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When Emily begins an apprenticeship at the renowned tattoo studio INKomplete, she didn’t realise she was stepping into a world very different from her middle-class upbringing. But not everybody is happy about her dipping her toe into new waters. Famous tattoo artist, Matt Jones, knows she doesn’t belong. What’s he got against her, and how far will he go to drive her away?

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

After her husband walked out on her, leaving her to provide for their daughter alone, Joe has no intention of relying on a man for anything ever again. As a successful tattoo artist, she can take care of what’s hers. The only thing she needs is a little fun every now and again. And if a gorgeous man offers her exactly what she needs, if they both know what they’re getting into, it can’t get messy, can it?

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

Phee has breast cancer. As heart-breaking as it is, she’s determined to be strong so her friends don’t worry. They’re a family, so if she hurts, they hurt, and she can’t allow that. But when lines start to blur between her and her handsome surgeon, trying to hold everything together suddenly feels like the real fight.

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

It’s been five years since Blakey’s beautiful wife Elizabeth died and his grief is just as sharp today as it was back then. But now he’s desperately lonely too. As he becomes closer to his friend Aisleyne, Blakey fights it with everything he has. How could he even think about moving on? No, friendship is all he has to offer. That will have to be enough.

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

You’re INKomplete without this…

Have I told you that I have a bunch of stories being released on NOV 6TH? I’m pretty sure I’ve been tweeting a storm up about it, but just in case you missed it; I HAVE THREE BRAND NEW STORIES BEING RELEASED ON NOVEMBER 6TH!!!

INKapable, INKurable, and INKonsolable are all standalone novellas set in the same world as INKarnate (as seen in P&K’s kINKED anthology). If you want to check out the first story, you can download it for FREE here  because I’m such a good friend to you! >>>> FREE STUFF 

On top of a FREE story (that’s currently tracking 4.5 stars out of five on a Amazon… ahem!) I’m also offering three people the chance to win this gorgeous silver necklace:

Isn’t it just beyond beautiful?? Who doesn’t want to declare that they’re a “book lover” in sterling silver?

Well, three people can!

All you have to do is pre-order one of my stories and share this blog. That’s it! Send me a screenshot of your pre-order (or however you want to do it) to my email (maraamalins@gmail.com) and you’re in for a chance of winning this gorgeous three-of-a-kind (*unless someone else sees just how beautiful it is and commissions the exact same thing*)  necklace!

I’ll email the winners on November 7th. Good luck!!

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When Emily begins an apprenticeship at the renowned tattoo studio INKomplete, she didn’t realise she was stepping into a world very different from her middle-class upbringing. But not everybody is happy about her dipping her toe into new waters. Famous tattoo artist, Matt Jones, knows she doesn’t belong. What’s he got against her, and how far will he go to drive her away?

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

After her husband walked out on her, leaving her to provide for their daughter alone, Joe has no intention of relying on a man for anything ever again. As a successful tattoo artist, she can take care of what’s hers. The only thing she needs is a little fun every now and again. And if a gorgeous man offers her exactly what she needs, if they both know what they’re getting into, it can’t get messy, can it?

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

Phee has breast cancer. As heart-breaking as it is, she’s determined to be strong so her friends don’t worry. They’re a family, so if she hurts, they hurt, and she can’t allow that. But when lines start to blur between her and her handsome surgeon, trying to hold everything together suddenly feels like the real fight.

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

 

 

It’s been five years since Blakey’s beautiful wife Elizabeth died and his grief is just as sharp today as it was back then. But now he’s desperately lonely too. As he becomes closer to his friend Aisleyne, Blakey fights it with everything he has. How could he even think about moving on? No, friendship is all he has to offer. That will have to be enough.

AMAZON UK AMAZON US AMAZON CA KOBO

What an INKredible day for a cover reveal!!

It’s here! It’s finally ruddy here.

The release date of INKarnate as a standalone short story… with its own (totally hot) cover. Can you believe it? Even though this story was originally submitted—and accepted—to Cori Vidae’s kINKED  anthology in 2017, it still feels brand spanking new to me. (Spanking? Geddit?)

Even before the anthology was released, I was already planning and writing the other three stories set in this world. I’ve said it before, this series wasn’t just about the exploration of romance for me, but the exploration of romance at different stages of life; young love, parenthood, illness, and grief. Each book (and member of the INKomplete tattoo family) tackles one of the themes.

So here it is in all it’s buff glory. The cover for INKarnate! Just look at it…

When Emily begins an apprenticeship at the renowned tattoo studio INKomplete, she didn’t realise she was stepping into a world very different from her middle-class upbringing. But not everybody is happy about her dipping her toe into new waters. Famous tattoo artist, Matt Jones, knows she doesn’t belong. What’s he got against her, and how far will he go to drive her away?

 

If you want to check it out on Amazon (maybe leaving a five star review as you do, just sayin’), it’s here… US, UK, CA

That the first story, INKarnate, is out and in the wild is beyond exciting. The fact that you can get it absolutely FREE (because technically it’s a reprint) is just ruddy amazing. Get it here for FREE >>>> FREE STUFF

Also, whilst I have your attention, did you know that the other three in the series were available for pre-order? No? Want to see their freakin’ amazing covers too? Well, let me help you out…

After her husband walked out on her, leaving her to provide for their daughter alone, Joe has no intention of relying on a man for anything ever again. As a successful tattoo artist, she can take care of what’s hers. The only thing she needs is a little fun every now and again. And if a gorgeous man offers her exactly what she needs, if they both know what they’re getting into, it can’t get messy, can it?

 

AMAZON UK     AMAZON US     AMAZON CA     KOBO

 

Phee has breast cancer. As heart-breaking as it is, she’s determined to be strong so her friends don’t worry. They’re a family, so if she hurts, they hurt, and she can’t allow that. But when lines start to blur between her and her handsome surgeon, trying to hold everything together suddenly feels like the real fight.

 

AMAZON UK     AMAZON US      AMAZON CA     KOBO

 

It’s been five years since Blakey’s beautiful wife Elizabeth died and his grief is just as sharp today as it was back then. But now he’s desperately lonely too. As he becomes closer to his friend Aisleyne, Blakey fights it with everything he has. How could he even think about moving on? No, friendship is all he has to offer. That will have to be enough.

 

AMAZON UK     AMAZON US     AMAZON CA     KOBO

 

Aren’t they just the most beautiful covers you’ve ever set your twinkly eyes on?

Demons, Dragons & Djinns (oh my!)

It’s out!

Demons, Dragons & Djinns  is finally out in the world for everyone to read! And check out that absolutely beautiful cover! I am beyond excited to have my work sitting alongside some short story corkers (can you tell? Look at that cheesy mug…)

I’m never not (double negative…#sorrynotsorry) excited to see who snuggles up next to my stories beneath the (book) covers because I haven’t yet been let down. Every single one of them has told me a tale that hooks me from the very first sentence and I keep turning until I run out of pages. You should check out the authors listed in this bad boy, it’s just… ah, bellissimo  *kisses fingers.*

All anthologies are super exciting, but this one is special to me for a particular reason: it’s the first time I went through the writing process and then the subsequent submissions process feeling almost like a “real” writer. Don’t get me wrong, that burning “you’re an imposter!”  feeling still bubbles away in my tummy every time I sit at the laptop, but I made myself approach this story as if I was a “real” writer. I made myself think like a “real” writer. I told myself over and over that nobody had been accepted for this anthology yet…

We were all in the same boat together!

It made a huge difference.

It deadened the fear just enough that I could really focus. Instead of just bashing at the keys until a story forms as I usually do (and I literally do that…  I just start somewhere and then work backwards and forwards until a story emerges), I took fifteen minutes out to really plan what the point of my story was. Why was I telling it? Why would someone want to read it? What would make it different to all the other fiery stories in that formidable slush pile?

Here is the result:

        It’s a pretty shit plan when you read it, and it makes no sense to anybody else but me, but it made enough difference to my focus that I managed to write a 7k word story in two days. I took a third to polish it.

Now, I’ve always been a fast writer (mostly nonsense that I end up deleting anyway) but I’ve never been able to finish and polish a short story in just over a weekend. A week maybe, never a weekend…

So, what’s the point of this blog?

Firstly… to flog you this amazing anthology. Honestly, if you haven’t bought it already, get on it. It’s what all the cool kids are doing (no joke, they really are). The amazing Rhonda Parrish sold every single copy she took to WWC con. Every. Single. Copy. I told you, the cool kids know…

Secondly, all writers work differently. That’s a fact. There is no right or wrong way. We do it however the fuck we want. I just wanted to share how changing my approach in this small way made all the difference to me; I now plan every single story.

Mara xx

 

Buy it now on:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Kobo