Requiem for Rab, Ebook, Available now from Samhain Publishing Rab’s dead but he won’t lie down. Lili’s luck is on the upswing. Her acting career is taking off, she’s home in Edinburgh to perform in a high profile Festival play, and romance is blossoming with her famous leading man. The last thing she wants or expects on her first night of passion in two years is her ex-husband looming over her new lover’s shoulder, dripping blood on her pristine sheets. Rab, self-confessed hedonist and computer geek, has always been a joker, but surely even he wouldn’t go to this length to stop her getting laid—inventing a wild tale of being shot dead and having to track down his own body. Then again, there’s no logical explanation for why she’s the only one who can see him. Why the police are knocking on her door. And why Rab is still the only man who drives her crazy, in bed and out.

All she knows is, it’s all still there. The fun and the pain. The feelings that never really went away. She owes it to him to never stop looking—even though finding him could take him away for good…

Warning: Contains blood, swearing and hot, spiritual sex.
 

Reviews:

"I am always, always amazed how Marie Treanor takes a common plot and totally twists it around and makes it a refreshing and different read. This story is stunning and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I had to keep reading to find out if there actually could be a happy end for Lili and her ghost of an ex. How could Ms. Treanor pull this one off? This story has it all, well written characters, lovely romance, hot sex scenes, a story that will have you on the edge of your seat and gasping in surprise at the end. I can’t wait for her next book!" - 5 Hearts, Valerie, Love Romances and More

"This was the easiest, most unhesitating five cherry rating I've given to a story so far...  a tale that shoots from the starting block at full speed. It grabs you by the throat and doesn't let go until the very last word...  She has created characters so alive you feel you can touch them and I became fully invested in their lives to the point I thought about them constantly after I finished this book... The plot to this story is fresh and original in a genre where it sometimes feels there's nothing new any more. What a pleasure!"  - 5 books, Eglantine, Long and Short Reviews.

"A different twist to a ghost story... a sweet story that pulls at the heartstrings, but will also make you laugh" - Annette Stone, ParaNormal Reviews.

"Ms Treanor's treatment of the story is interesting, fresh, and fun. Lili has an engaging narrative voice and I like her as a first person narrator." - Mrs Giggles, Rating 63.

Excerpts:

First, the opening. Scroll down for something sexier...

    It’s not every day you see a ghost, right? And it’s pretty unusual for your ex-husband to loom over your new lover’s shoulder, especially when you’re in bed at the time. Extraordinarily unlikely, you might think, to encounter both phenomena on the same night, but there you are, they don’t call me Lucky Lili for nothing.
    So there I lay, stark naked on the bed, having been undressed with exquisite care by the man of my dreams, who stood beside me, ripping off his silk shirt to expose his gorgeous manly chest, the sort of predatory blaze in his eyes that was guaranteed to make a girl squirm with lust.
    Menzies was a mature man, distinguished, successful, with all the self-confidence and glamour that normally goes with such qualities. As well as the firm, fit body, he had wonderfully chiseled features, a square jaw, dark brown hair turning to a sexy iron grey at the temples. I was one lucky girl…
    This time, this time…
    He didn’t at once remove his trousers—frustrating, perhaps but it did imply a certain gentlemanly not-counting-one’s-chickens approach. Instead, he sank back down on the bed, resting a hand on either side of me, and began to kiss me while slowly lowering that delicious chest to my breasts. That felt so good I really did begin to squirm.
    “So Lili,” he murmured against my lips in that breathless, soul-wrenching voice that could move nations, “will you make love with me?”
    As a line, it certainly beat, “Fancy a shag?”
    I was enchanted. “Oh yes!”
    His hands were on my breasts, mine on his cotton-covered bottom, stroking, reaching between our bodies to get at his zip.
    “Impatience.” He smiled. “I like that.”
    Brushing my hands aside, he undid his own zip. The trousers and underpants were scooted down his legs so quickly that I didn’t get so much as a glimpse of his tackle. Well, the night was young, and already he was pressing it against me, between my thighs.
    “Oh, yes, you want me, you like this…”
    I gasped, wriggling to help him find the spot. Yes!
    Which is when Rab’s face appeared over Menzies’ shoulder, looking mildly surprised.
    My mouth fell open. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
    “Beats me,” said Rab with his usual helpfulness.
    Menzies was staring at me. “You invited me!”
    Thank God. He hadn’t yet clocked Rab’s presence. I tightened my arms around his neck in a hold that probably resembled a wrestling lock rather than a lover’s clinch. All I had to do was get rid of Rab quick and I could still have my long dreamed of night of passion.
    “Go away,” I mouthed over my lover’s naked shoulder.
    Rab looked around him, then shook his head. “Nah. Who’s the sleazeball?”
    “He is not a…” I broke off, staring at the red drops on my white satin quilt cover. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to the source: a dark, nasty stain on Rab’s T-shirt.
    “Rab!” I sat up with so much force that Menzies and I banged heads. I saw a fine array of shooting stars, though hardly in the manner I had hoped for at the beginning of the evening.
    Menzies rolled off me, swearing. “Who the bloody hell is Rab?”

*

    Crossing the room, I turned down the stereo to don’t-force-the-neighbours-to-call-the-police volume, and went to stand beside him.
    Quite naturally, his arm came out and drew me to his side. He didn’t look up from the screen, but he did stop singing. Which was a relief to all.
    “What are you doing?” I asked, still suffering from a weird sense of déjà vu.
    “Looking up mediums,” was the unexpected answer. His hand moved on my waist, absently caressing. Little sparks of pleasure ran up to my breasts and down to my stomach.
    “Mediums?”
    He shrugged. “Makes sense. If I can get through to one of them, maybe she’d be able to track down my body.”
    “Why can’t you track it down?”
    “No idea. One article here was wittering about the dead body repelling the spirit. Suppose it would.”
    He glanced up at me, still half-absorbed in his research, but almost at once, his eyes cleared and softened. He drew me onto his lap and held me loosely in both arms.
    “There’s one in Morningside. She looks the genuine article.”
    I glanced at the screen. A plump middle-aged lady gazed back at me. She had short, grey hair, dangling earrings and a no-nonsense smile. Above her, a plain banner proclaimed, “Rose Colvin, Medium”. So far as I could tell, there were none of the obvious clichéd images on her site. She might have been advertising a cleaning service.
    Against the curve of my bottom, I could feel Rab’s erection growing. Excitement warred with disbelief. How did ghosts get erections? I twisted round to face him.
    “Will you go and check her out?”
    “Yes…” His eyes darkened. His arms tightened, and I felt his hand slide up from my waist along the side of my breast. “Tomorrow,” he breathed.
    I swallowed, unmoving as his hand roamed back and around, touching the sensitive underside of my breast, brushing the nipple that reached out to him without permission.
    “Tonight, I wish…”
    “You wish what?” I managed.
    “I wish…” His gaze roved over my unbuttoned nightshirt, came back up to my face, unsmiling. “I wish we could make it right.” He touched my cheeks, my lips, with the sensitive tips of his fingers. “I wish we could wash away all the crap and just leave the one thing that matters.”
    “Death,” I whispered.
    His lips quirked. “Love.” He brought my face nearer and fastened his mouth on mine.
    It wasn’t like the last time, in the street outside the theatre. This was a ravenous kiss, consuming me from the outset. He attacked my mouth with lips and tongue and teeth, taking fierce possession, and the fire surged from him straight through me.
    I gasped into his mouth. “And when you’re gone?”
    “Then you’ll have it to remember as you get on with your life. And we’ll both know that for this night at least, we loved each other. And, Lil…”
    “What?” I gasped as he dragged my nightshirt over my head and threw it over his shoulder.
    “I loved you every night. And day. The ones in the pub as well as the ones at home. The ones on computer games and the ones pissed in our bed or on somebody else’s floor. The ones I fucked you and all the ones since you left me. I never stopped and I never will.”
    “Oh, Rab, don’t make me cry,” I choked.
    He seized my mouth in his, cupping my breast and kneading, groaning deep in his throat, “Can I make you come?”
    “Can ghosts have sex?”
    “This one bloody can.”
    Laughter caught in my throat, feeding the frantic lust. “Then do you fancy a shag?”
    He left my mouth, smiling, to kiss my breast instead. “I thought you’d never ask.”
    His lips brushed my nipple, pulled at it while his tongue flicked over it wickedly. Moaning, I arched up into his mouth. I felt his teeth grazing my nipple, teasing. His hands were busy on his zip.
    He lifted me by the waist and I watched with blatant desire as his cock sprang up between our bodies. God, I’d missed that… Big, blue-veined, purple headed and thick. Watching my face, he began to lower me on to it.
    I gasped at the shooting pangs of delight as its blunt head probed among my folds. It brushed against my clitoris, found my soaking entrance which already throbbed uncontrollably as if trying to draw him in.  Then he pushed up into my body and I cried out in shock and delight.
    “Oh, fuck, I love being dead,” he whispered...

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