L.M. Allen's Blog
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November 17, 2021
Bells's Diary...coming soon!
Did you ever want to know more about Bells? Her relationship with Gary? Or to go way, way back in the Lay Me Bare series?
Then this is the answer to your prayers.
Bells's Diary is a weekly post (my version of a newsletter but way more fun, and steamy) that will give you what you need.
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Weekly instalments of sass and steam
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Here's a little preview...
Tuesday, 4 Feb 2014
10:05 AM
In a plane, somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean
So, here I go. Back to the UK. Looking forward to starting my new job. I’m now a development chef for a chain of country inns, as of Monday. Feels like a step in the right direction.
My ears are still ringing from my mother’s howling when I left this morning. She just doesn’t see why I can’t stay in Spain and run her little tourist trap of a restaurant and be happy. I tried that for about a year, and now I’m done. If I have to live with her or my pain-in-the-arse brother for another minute, I won’t need a job. I’ll need a fucking good lawyer. I wonder if ‘they really deserved it, Your Honour’ is considered a defence these days? If it isn’t, the judge should be made to live with the fuckers for a week before passing sentence. Then they’d hand out medals, not life incarcerations.
Next steps: Find a flat. Catch up with friends and arrange drinks. Avoid the ex like the bloody plague.
3:20 PM
Costa Coffee, Covent Garden
Exhausted. Flat hunting’s much harder than anticipated. Need to buy a bloody coat! It is freezing in this country. And raining. Obviously. And my only jacket is in the suitcase I flung on the bed in my hotel room an hour or two ago.
Feel like a failure already, in my new post-divorce life. Sitting here, drinking coffee that tastes all wrong but is warming my numb fingers, as I sip while trying to get up the nerve to call my dad and beg for a place to stay. It might be a good thing. Def cheaper.
Decided I’m going to get on a train and drop in on Eva, my bestie since we were nine years old. I’ll surprise her. Drag her out for a few drinks. Maybe some dancing. Maybe find some hot guy to take my mind off everything for a while.
Plan!
10:45 PM
Gary Lucas’s Flat, Covent Garden
I have never felt as guilty in my life as I do right now. I cried so much I could have drowned. How could I have been so selfish?
I bounded up to Eva’s front door and found that she doesn’t live there anymore. I called Joyce, Eva’s mum, and got an international tone. I hung up quickly. I don’t have the kind of money required for international calls right now.
Then, I called Gary. He’s Eva’s (other) bestie. More like her brother, really. He gave me another address. His flat back in Covent Garden.
Holy. Fucking. Christ. I should have known from the look on Gary’s face when he answered his front door that something was very, very wrong.
While I was away, feeling sorry for myself over my dick of an ex, my best friend’s life was fucking annihilated. Her dad, Evan, died suddenly. Gary said they tried to reach me for the funeral, but I’d changed my number, wallowing in my self-indulgent pity. And then her actual brother, Davey, had been killed in action. He was in the army.
“Oh my God! Where is she!” I cried, grabbing hold of his jumper.
Then. Fucking hell, then! He took me to the hospital to see her without another word. The whole way, he didn’t say a word. Just let me jabber on like a complete fucking moron about flowers and chocolate cake and getting enough vodka she could forget about the whole thing for a while. I thought Eva must have been working night shift.
No. I was wrong. Not night shift.
She’s not nursing the sick. She is the sick. And apparently, that black and blue, swollen person in multiple casts, lying motionless in a hospital bed, who I was assured is Eva, (because it’s impossible to tell) is ‘looking much better’ and they’re hoping to wake her up tomorrow.
The whole way back to Gary’s, I cried so much I couldn’t even speak.
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August 19, 2021
Busy Bee
Hello everyone!
Phew! It's been one of those...weeks? Months? Years? I don't know about you, but I don't seem to stop unless I'm physically asleep. But for all the busyness, I have been fairly productive.
Books two and three 'Bared To You' and 'Bare All' are both with my lovely editor, Kat. She's a godsend. I shouldn't have told you that. I'm not big on sharing. Kidding! I'm kidding. Sort of. And I'm halfway through a brand new work in progress and I look forward to introducing you to Eliza and Seth next year.
But for now, I'll tell you about the steamy books of goodies about to come your way. 'Bared To You' is, as some of you already know, told from Will's point of view. If you weren't already in love with Will Hunter, you will be before you finish the book.
Now, I'm not a huge fan of reading the same story from a different point of view, so that's not what this is. It's set over the same or similar time frame as Lay Me Bare#1, but it's a totally different story. Not only will you lovely lot get up close and personal with Will, you'll meet Davey. And Dan. You'll even have a little bit more of Gary. You'll find out how Will became involved with the plot to trap Eva and how he handled it.
And of course, it leads nicely into book three, Bare All.
I have a confession to make with this one. Before it went out to my beta readers, I said to my PA Natasha, "I need to update book two a bit. Will looks like a bloody psycho at the beginning of book three otherwise. I'll stick something in the epilogue to explain his cray-cray." She said I like messing with people in the epilogue, which isn't untrue ;-)
So, Bare All, is the culmination of all plot lines coming together. Things...fall apart, in a big way for Will and Eva. Because they're supposed to. That was always the plan. There has always been someone orchestrating things and pulling their strings. And I don't mean me!
In book three, you find out who, what and why, and how they get through it, apart and together, and what happens when the tables are turned and the roles are quite literally reversed.
HEA lovers, don't despair. There is a HEA. I wouldn't dare leave you without one.
I really hope you love these next two books as much as I do. But, I think Bare All is my favourite. I'm allowed to say that, right?
I look forward to hearing which is your favourite too.
Lisa xx
PS Bare All (#3) is now live for influencers sign up with Greys Promotions https://greyspromo.com/lmallen/
January 4, 2021
Happy New Year!
I know, I know, but let's leave the doom and gloom to other people for a while. Please!
What are your resolutions? Did you make any or just concentrating on getting through an hour at a time? Mine was simply 'progress.' That's it. It's tiny and huge at the same time, especially if I think about all the areas in life I want to progress.
Today was officially 'back at it' day for me, so I want to share with you some of the progress happening so far (See what I did there?) and to let you know that Will's story is coming along nicely, although he's more challenging than Eva ever was.
Reader's Digest have named Lay Me Bare a 'Must Read of the Week' Eeek! ...'
Lay Me Bare by debut indie author L.. M. Allen is such a refreshing change. It is still clearly cast within the mould of steamy romance, with the same delicious titillation and a ‘to die for’ male love interest to arrest the attention, but it dares to make changes to the basic formula that will arouse the interests of even the most jaded adult fiction fans....'
Now, I must crack on with some work, as Eva would say. Will is calling.
October 12, 2020
Welcome to my world.
Hello awesome people! For my first post, I invite you to step into Lay Me Bare with a little look see at the prologue. Enjoy :-)
The sun is about thirty minutes from rising. The early morning light is a murky, dull grey.
I take a step backwards, concealing myself deeper in the inky black shadows behind the bus shelter, as a double-decker approaches the stop, glowing like the Christmas lights that have infected the city.
A lone figure waits for the doors to slide open, his eyes probing the blackness, a manilla file tucked under his arm. My fingers close around the handle of the knife in my pocket, the gun in my waistband digging into my spine as I flatten against a brick wall and hold my breath.
He steps down from the safety of the bus, his erratic breath rising in frozen clouds around him as his head whips from side to side. The buttons of his heavy winter coat are straining with every laboured breath.
Years of experience tells me that the only thing this guy is carrying is the file. My fingers relax and I step forward, my heavy boots crunching on the ice. His eyes meet mine, the dim glow of the streetlights highlight the fear in his eyes. He’s done his research. Good. Saves time.
I hold out my hand and he slowly places the file in my palm, his eyes on mine, his breathing getting faster. Shorter. I flip through the images, scan the notes, and stop at recommendations. “Who is that?”
“He’s your best chance of getting to her.”
“Oh?”
“He’s . . . well known in the field. If he can’t get to her, no one can.”
“What are you telling me, exactly?”
He takes half a step backwards, slipping on the ice. “I tried a All got turned down, one way or another.”
“It didn’t work?”
“No,” he says quietly, shaking his head.
“So, they’re still together?”
“All I can tell you for certain is that she didn’t respond to our attempts to engage her.” He stands straighter, looking like a man trying not to be afraid. “Can I ask you something?” I nod. “Why do you want to do this?”
Tapping on one of the images, a freezeframe, I tell him, “She’s my wife.”
