I love those articles in magazines that have numbers in the titles—doesn’t matter the topic; the number will make me pause and read the title. So I thought, surely there’s five things about UBM that I could list. They’ll just roll off the tips of my fingers as I type…
Hmmm… It’s nearly 8 AM, so lack of sleep is a poor excuse. Maybe if I just type the number something will come…
1)
Seriously? I’m stumped at 1? Maybe it’s because it’s a number and the other side of my brain that I don’t use very much any more is having spasms. Okay, so with some distance from that nasty number, I should be able to simply tell you the things I love about my witchy series.
Well, there are witches.
And witches are fun. I get to write spells and things. And each of my witches has a certain element (Water, Earth, Fire, Air, Spirit) they are more connected to. In Under a Blood Moon, my heroine Merin is connected to Water. She loves her job as a shrimp boat captain, loves the open water. Her powers feel stronger, her mind more centered when she’s there. In the first book of the series, Bryn’s element was Earth.
2) Okay, the fingers are moving. I can do this. Witches are the preferred mates of demons. In a traditional demon marriage, the witch lives to serve the demon, giving him influxes of power he can siphon off as he needs. And since witches are delicate little creatures, demons think witches should be grateful for their protection. In my series, my witches fled that environment, wanting to live their own authentic lives without power-mad demons enslaving them. They hid themselves in the bayou, hoping they’d never be found, but witches are fair game to any rogue demon. Discovery was inevitable…
3) My demon kingdom is filled with every luscious otherworld creature you can imagine—or I can anyway. Since I didn’t want to choose, I packed it with my favorites. (Okay, so now you know I’m writing this series for my own entertainment!) In Once in a Blue Moon, the hero was a troll! Doesn’t sound sexy? WRONG! In UBM, my main hero is a sea draugr? Don’t know what that is? Sorry, you have to read the story—but I will say he’s based on Norse lore. Plus, there are two mermen, twins in fact, who fill up the story and parts of Miren’s anatomy quite well. And what’s coming? A wolf for sure, because I do love furry heroes. Maybe a gargoyle or a djinn. I’m having fun with the variety. I hope you will too!
4) My story’s set in the bayous of Louisiana. I know. I’ve used it before, but hey, it’s just south of me, and I visit there often, and even I in my prosaic little human world I can feel the spooky vibes coming from the murky, gator-filled waters. The vegetation is lush, the air humid and thick. I’m drawn to it because of its isolation and beauty. If you’ve never made a trip, you have to add it to your bucket list!
5) I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Well, I do know there’s always going to be plenty of sex, but I don’t know where the characters are leading me. Not yet. And that’s very, very enticing for me as a writer. I purposely didn’t plan this series because I wanted to it come from the fertile side of my brain. The one unencumbered by logic and numbers. But see? I made it 5!
You’ve been thinking about those lips, that smile, that accent for days, weeks, months, years. Now, the universe has aligned and here you are. Anticipation, a.k.a. foreplay, whether verbal, body language, or physical adds a whole new level of HOT to any encounter. It’s the major premise behind my joint adventure with Author Lindsay Cross. Take a peek and answer the question at the bottom of the post for a chance to win a copy of Enemy Mine or Versions.
ANTICIPATION
A Heart and Handcuffs Anthology
Love is all you need… Really? Tell that to her unattended lady-boner. Sure, she and her husband had a love so strong it shouldered the weight of children, careers, in-laws, and out-laws, but the zing of excitement had grown into comfortable expectation.
He knew things had gone to hell in handcuffs. Work choked him on files and felons. Home’s honey-do lists weren’t much better, because nowhere on the to-do list did it say, “wife.”
They had love, but how did they get back to lust?
With a little bit of Anticipation…
Anticipation contains two sizzling ten-thousand word short stories. In Megan Mitcham’s story “Climax,” a busty—and brainy—redhead arrests her police-chief husband and shows him exactly what she’s had to do to get by without him for the last two months. In Lindsay Cross’s story “Need,” a work-from-home mom pushed to the brink pushes back, revealing her un-sated desire and forcing her Dominant to reestablish his role.
ISBN ebook: 978-1-941899-12-0
Release: May 2015
Length: 170 pages
Excerpt
“Why’d you insist on coming with me? This isn’t exactly your thing.” Lindley held up a gloved hand and fanned her fingers at him.
Fox’s broad back faced her. He typed furiously on his cell with the thick collar of his overcoat up on both sides. “What? Oh.” He turned his dark gaze on her. The ruddiness in his cheeks from the spring wind outside faded to sheet-white. “Damnit, Lin.” He looked away so quickly he almost snapped his neck. “I still don’t understand how it’s your thing.” He shoved the phone inside his pocket and gripped the table he leaned against with both hands. “When we met you seemed so normal.”
“I am normal.” She grinned, pleased with herself for shaking him up enough to get him talking. He’d been so quiet on the car ride over, stuck in the mire of his thoughts. And now that she’d seen the tip of the proverbial iceberg that had wrecked their sex life she wanted to know more.
“You have brains all over your gloves and you’re not about to hurl. That’s not normal.” His shaggier-than-usual locks moved in time with his shaking head.
“Sure it is. You like to solve puzzles. It’s part of the reason you became a police officer. Every case for you is an intricate weave of timelines, witnesses, evidence, leads, and documentation. Well, I like to tell people’s stories when they can’t.”
“So, what’s White’s story?”
“This bastard got shot in the head.”
Fox’s shoulders shook. He doubled over and the most glorious sound filled her morgue. She hadn’t heard his laugh in so very long. Sure he’d laughed with the kids, but not with her, not that real belly-rolling laugh, in too long. He buried his face in his arm. “Oh God, it smells awful in here.” The coat and thickly-corded muscles muffled the words.
Lindley let the sound wash over her, soothing the ache in her heart. “It’s good to hear you laugh,” she breathed through the thin face mask.
“It’s good to laugh. It’s been a long time.” With that, the last of his mirth dried up.
“So why’d you come with me?”
“The logical thing for James to do is run, but why’d he kill White in my office, in my chair? Nothing was stolen. Nothing was out of place.”
He resumed his grip on the table.
“A final FU?”
“Or it’s a threat.”
A tiny tendril of fear threaded itself around her heart. She strived to make light of the situation. But really, a man who’d eaten barbeque in her back yard had murdered the buddy he’d picked up on his way to their house. She could only blow off so much.
Lindley secured the metal spreader inside White’s entry wound and wiggled her fingers into his brain matter. “Why would he threaten you?”
“I pushed for the bust on Chino and his gang based on things we learned from following White and James.”
“Chino!” The tendril coiled tight and her fingers slipped off the tip of the metal slug.
“He’s not a problem for us. He knows how the system works. He’s a bad guy, but not The Godfather make-a-big-statement type. He’ll post bail within the hour. Whether he goes to jail or not, James is the one with the issue. He won’t have a prayer of showing his face in this town again. No matter what he says, Chino will believe he informed for us, and he’ll end up fish food.”
“And that’s not a statement?”
“It’s a little one.”
“Okay.”
“James stealing the money was an FU to the force. White in my office was personal.”
Lindley pushed everything aside, concentrated, and steeled her grip. “I found the slug.”
“Great. Can we go now?”
“Can you grab me a small evidence bag and open it?”
He sighed and moved to the wall of metal cabinets and drawers behind her. “Can you bring it over here. If I don’t see the body, I’ll do better.”
“I still don’t understand how you made it through seven years as a detective.” Lindley sidled up next to him and dropped the hunk of compressed metal into the open bag.
“I could look at that as evidence. This is like finger painting or sculpting with brains, and guts, and… Okay, I’m about to gross myself out.”
It was her turn to laugh. Finally. Fox’s wide eyes and reciprocating smile said he enjoyed the sound as much as she did. They shared a moment together. He moved in, but his gaze dropped to her hands. He hit the brakes.
“So, can we go now?”
“I have to clean him up, and then me. It’ll take another hour, maybe.”
Fox looked at her extra-large clock on the wall. “One o’clock. I’ve officially been awake for thirty hours.”
“Sissy. It doesn’t get good until you’ve hit the fiftieth. Mental function shuts down and you find you can sleep standing up with a candy-bar hanging out of your mouth.”
“If this place didn’t freak me out so much, I’d already be asleep. You know I like my eight hours.”
“I know you haven’t gotten that many in a row in a while.”
“I haven’t gotten a lot of things in a while.” His shaky finger brushed a group of stray hairs from her forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am.” She leaned into his hand. The tiny bit of skin-on-skin contact bolstered her resolve.
Let me know what you think in the comments and remember to leave your email address so I can alert the winner!!! Which does it for you contact all the way or anticipation?
*~*~*~*
Megan was born and raised among the live oaks and shrimp boats of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where her enormous family still calls home. She attended college at the University of Southern Mississippi where she received a bachelor’s degree in curriculum, instruction, and special education. For several years Megan worked as a teacher in Mississippi. She married and moved to South Carolina and began working for an international non-profit organization as an instructor and co-director.
In 2009 Megan fell in love with books. Until then, books had been a source for research or the topic of tests. But one day she read Mercy by Julie Garwood. And Oh Mercy, she was hooked!
Megan lives in Southern Arkansas where she pens heart pounding romantic thriller novels and window steaming erotic romance. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest & Goodreads!
UPDATE: The winner of the free download is…Kristie!
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Ménage can be kind of irresistible. To write or read. Why settle for one hot lover when you can have two or more? I enjoy the challenge of writing it—figuring out how to describe all those moving parts, trying to make the scene move quickly, and still let the reader know who’s saying/touching what. And I’ll admit it. When I’m writing it, I’m that character, closing my eyes and imagining every kiss.
I’ve written a few. 🙂 The book coming May 12th, Under a Blood Moon, features a foursome (a witch, two mermen and a sea draugr). To tide you over until then, take a peek inside Two Hot!
Comment for a chance to win Two Hot or one of the short stories on this carousel!
Do you like ménage stories? If so, what flavor of ménage do you prefer — m/m/f, m/f/m, f/m/f, f/f/m? More mm’s?
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Click to Buy
Afraid to spoil their friendship, Emily had been reluctant to act on her attraction to the two sexy men next door. However, when she’s caught spying on them, the men decide a little punishment is in order…
Beads of condensation, glittering jewel-like in the sputtering candlelight, ran in rivulets down the sides of Jason’s ice-cold beer.
Detail I shouldn’t have been able to note, given the fact I was thirty feet away.
As I lowered my nephew’s toy binoculars, I reflected that I had indeed sunk to a new low. You see, my bedroom window conveniently overlooked Jason and Robert’s backyard. A fact that probably never registered with the previous tenants, but one that proved too delicious to ignore after the arrival of the handsome duo. Privacy fencing, which ran down to the pier that jutted into the lake, separated the row of houses where we lived. It was high enough the neighbors on either side of ours couldn’t see into their yard, but lucky me—I had the perfect view.
Upon discovering this, I had began a furtive surveillance. One that had me cringing in embarrassment each time I greeted them in passing and feeling even more ashamed when we struck up a friendship.
We’d shared meals, drinks, late afternoon swims, watched football games together on their wide-screen TV. And still, I peeked into their backyard, waiting for those moments when they popped outside to mow the lawn or catch a few summer rays. Their bodies gleamed with sweat while raw lust warred inside me, along with the fear that I’d mess up our relationship if I let the guys know how I really felt.
My convenient perch on the windowsill afforded me a window into their private lives, and from the very beginning, I was hooked. They’d become an obsession, one frustrated by the fact they treated me like a kid sister, rather than a woman one of them might desire.
And therein lay another problem. I’d resisted the urge to seek a deeper relationship because then I’d have to choose. My libido was completely fickle, lusting after Jason’s muscled physique, then sighing over the possibilities of what Robert’s tall, bony frame and large feet hinted at. That their personalities were perfect bookends, fierce and funny, confused my heart as well.
Lucky, lucky me. I licked the sweat gathering on my upper lip while this night one of the handsome men living next door tilted his bottle and took several long sips. The look of pure bliss that softened his otherwise stern features made my chest ache.
I watched the movement of Jason’s throat as he worked it down, imagining him sipping at my overheated flesh. My skin began to tingle. My nipples beaded, crowding uncomfortably against my lace bra. My thighs clenched as a delicious wash of arousal seeped to wet the crotch of my plain panties.
The sigh he emitted as he set the bottle on the table was echoed by my own painful groan. Watching either of them had never caused my heart to skip a beat like that hint of a moan sliding on the tail of Jason’s long exhalation.
Sure, it was hotter than hell out there. I too felt the effects of the enervating heat. Record temperatures had strained the region’s resources and planned service interruptions began that night. But something about that sigh felt…un-subtle, exaggerated, maybe even dramatic. And Jason was too straightforward a man for that.
I blotted sweat from my forehead, asking myself again, What am I doing?
Only this time, my peeping hadn’t been deliberate. I’d rushed home from work and showered quickly to beat the scheduled brown-out. Then I’d stripped to my underwear, pulled back the curtains, and opened the window, hoping for a breeze to cool my skin. Sitting limply on the sill, I waited for the world to flicker into life again.
That’s when I’d noticed him, sitting in a lounge chair alone in the dark.
He wore his usual work “uniform”—khaki trousers, white shirt and a tie. Tonight, the tie hung loosened and askew, his collar opened beneath it.
Despite the lack of electricity, I could see it all. Moonlight silvered his dark hair and reflected bright as a beacon against the white shirt. The golden light from the large Citronella candle leant warmth to his skin and the amber bottle he held between his hands.
As always, he was lovely to watch, but tonight, his expression drew my attention more than his breath-stealing features. A sullen slanting of his brows, a bit of pout plumping his masculine lips, an edgy energy to his slight movements—he was either irritated or aroused.
Wanting an answer to the “either-or,” I watched. My forte is observation; my people-radar exquisitely tuned to body language and a voice’s tonal cues. My curiosity and my lust were caught. No way could I back away from my window now.
The bottle tapped the table as he set it aside. A long-fingered hand tugged the knot of his tie, dragging it from his neck.
When he began to undo the row of buttons down the front of his shirt, I settled deeper on the sill, leaning closer, but taking care to keep my pale body hidden behind the sheer curtain.
The edges of the shirt parted over a broad, nicely muscled chest. My gaze zeroed in on taut lean abs dusted with dense fur the same color as his close-cropped black hair that stretched nipple to nipple then ran along a thin dark line to slip beneath his zipper.
His hand stroked his chest, scratching through the hair, the faint crinkling sound causing my own chest to tighten, my nipples to surge.
A light sheen of sweat glimmered on his chest and belly. Again, my tongue swept my lips, tasting salt, and I imagined I lapped the dew right off his skin.
When a lazily roaming hand slid over his belly, I tensed, fascinated as he swept the flat plane. Would he be hard or desk-soft? His stomach looked firm. So, I enjoyed fantasizing that he was and touched my own stomach, following his path.
His hand slid down to the knot bulging behind his fly, and he cupped it. Squeezed.
My own hands itched to replace his and grew still, clenching against the fantasy of holding his burgeoning cock as it roused. My cheeks heated and my breaths shortened. No need to tease my own body into arousal, moisture already soaked my panties.
The buckle clanked open, and the belt slid sinuously from the loops as he lifted his hips and pulled it free. A flick of his thumb and the button at the waistband of his trousers opened. His zipper rasped as it slid down.
Dark fabric formed a vee-like shadow as his hand rooted beneath his waist, and then he slipped the long, gleaming column of his semi-aroused sex from the flap at the front of his boxers and wrapped his fingers around it.
I swallowed the liquid pooling in my mouth. I blinked to moisten eyes that had grown dry and scratchy as I stared, wide-eyed. My breaths grew ragged, a little choked, and I must have made a noise, because suddenly his head swung my way.
His gaze narrowed on my bedroom window.
Holding my breath, I froze, hoping his gaze couldn’t penetrate the darkness.
But a crooked smile slowly stretched his lips, and his hand tightened around himself and began to pump up and down the thickening rod. All the while, he stared at me.
Jason knew I watched but didn’t seem to mind. I let out a deep, trembling breath and continued to stare, my own body heating, growing increasingly aroused in tandem with his hardening cock.
His head turned away, and his hand dropped from his engorged cock. It fell against his belly with a soft, muffled thud. Heavy, hot, thick—I knew its girth would stretch my mouth.
Another sound intruded. The chime of my doorbell. I bit back a curse and drew away from the window, slung on my robe, then headed downstairs to the front door.
Robert stood on the stoop, a lazy grin on his face, a sweep of lank blonde hair covering one eye and two beers dangling from his fingers. He was shirtless. Low-riding, blue knee-length shorts encased slender hips and revealed long legs. His large feet were bare. “Thought you might like to join us.”
April was crazy-busy! My daughter was scheduled for surgery and I’ve been taking care of her, her house and kids for the tail-end of the month, but before that there were tons of April goodies! (Be sure to read to the bottom for contest details!)
There were new releases…
Three brand new short stories!
Free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers and just $0.99 for everyone else!
(Click on the covers to purchase!)
Johnny Blaze ~ A firefighter moonlighting as a male exotic dancer gives a librarian a birthday spanking she’ll never forget…
The Runaway Bride ~ After leaving him at the altar, a headstrong bride is captured by her cowboy and taught the pleasure of sensual discipline…
Tailgating at the Cedar Inn ~ Two construction workers come to the aid of one woman looking for a last taste of freedom…
One hot new box set!
SEVEN SINFUL STORIES
~The Second Collection~
Slip between the sheets with seven New York Times & USA Today bestselling authors in one anthology. These seven sizzling and sinful erotic stories are sure to burn up the pages!
~Available for a Limited Time~
FIND ME IN DARKNESS by Julie Kenner
A doomed woman. A dangerous and mysterious man. And an epic passion that cannot be denied…
BOND WITH ME by Anne Marsh
Fallen angel Brends Duranov offers Mischka Baran an unforgettable taste of sin and seduction when she visits his elite Moscow club, but she’s looking for her missing sister—and not an angel mate. But with a sadistic killer carving up his brethren, Brends is playing for keeps, hunting the one woman whose bloodline can end the mayhem, whose bond can restore his lost wings…and now he wants Mischka to bond with him.
PLANET MAIL by Kate Pearce
As far as job hazards go, Douglass Fraser didn’t think crash-landing on an alien planet and spending her recuperation being erotically pleasured by three gorgeous men was in the United Planetary Parcel Service’s courier handbook. There certainly wasn’t a section on what to do when a very sexy king wants you to have his baby and save his world.
UNMASQUED by Colette Gale
When not-as-proper-as-one-would-think Victorian woman Jane Clemons convinces her father to take her on a jungle expedition, her only goal is to find her lover, Jonathan, who disappeared three years earlier. But shortly after their party arrives in Madagascar, Jane finds herself enthralled not only by the freedom and beauty of the lush jungle, but a reclusive wild man who seems to be fascinated by her….
CORPORATE AFFAIRS by Nana Malone
Powerhouse project manager, Kyra Benson, loves her new job. If only her domineering boss wasn’t the bane of her existence & a boon to her fantasies. X2 Games CEO, Bryan Ross, has devoted his life to his company. The last thing he needs is to get sidetracked by a woman who thinks she knows more about his business than he does. Can the two adversaries negotiate a truce & find love?
ONE LAST NIGHT by Caridad Pineiro
An act of compassion leads to unexpected pleasure . . .
Thrown together, Trevor and Maggie can’t ignore the sexual heat between them. As they satisfy one set of needs, another slowly develops as passion breathes life into other emotions. Will Trevor and Maggie’s one last night together possibly lead to many other nights in the future?
WARLORD’S DESTINY by Delilah Devlin
Mora has no illusions she’s anything other than the sacrificial lamb to ensure peace between her peace-loving planet and the warlike world that demands a royal union with one of their own. However, when she meets the rugged warlord who will be her husband, she decides in that moment to win his heart—she’ll settle for nothing less.
What’s coming in May?
Two more sexy shorties! Details coming later!
And on May 12th, the sequel to Once in a Blue Moon releases! Have you pre-ordered your copy!?
I’m so delighted to be back at Delilah’s and grateful to have the opportunity to share my latest historical romance, His Captive Princess. Growing up, one of my favorite legendary heroes was King Arthur, so when the movie Excalibur came out, I loved everything about the film–from the noble Knights of the Round Table, to the shiny armor, sexy Sir Lancelot, and the dark mysticism of the wizards Merlin and Morgana.
As long as I can remember I’ve been drawn to anything medieval, so when I learned that most castles were located in Wales, I had to find out more about the country. Turns out, Wales also has lots of legends and myths. I eventually discovered the true story of Gwenllian, a brave medieval Welsh princess who fought the Normans herself, and then I knew I had a story to write! My bow and arrow-wielding heroine Princess Eleri is based on Gwenllian.
As the title of the book hints—His Captive Princess—our brave lady has met her match in the charming enemy, Warren de Tracy.
****For a chance to win a $5 Gift card****
Leave a comment below telling me who’s your favorite hero or historical character.
Earned respect is sweet…but deserved revenge is sweeter.
Warren de Tracy was assured the Welsh village of Dinefwr would be an easy conquest, as would the widow of its fallen prince. Wedding her will appease the locals and win the respect of his liege, the usurper King Stephen.
Instead, Warren is ambushed, taken prisoner by a hooded Welshwoman with skin that glows like moonlight. If he must die at her hands, at least his honorable death will silence the whispers of disloyalty hanging over his name.
Princess Eleri has never seen a knight as stoic—and as eager to die—as Warren. She’d love to oblige the bastard, but something in his ocean-blue eyes stays her hand. Plus, suspicion nags at her, for the arrows that wounded him and killed his men are Norman, not Welsh.
A ghostly prophecy portends danger that thrusts the enemies closer together, where hate explodes into passion that won’t allow Eleri to surrender Warren to her vengeful clan. But returning him to his king breaks more than it mends…and for Warren, retaliation will be sweet, indeed.
Product Warnings: Contains a Norman warrior with a thirst for justice, a Welsh rebel princess with second sight and a steady bow hand, magical prophecies, and a plot of royal proportions.
Excerpt:
“‘Your Highness’?” Warren jerked in astonishment, pulling against his bonds. The ropes chafed his raw skin, sending a fresh wave of pain down his arms. “You’re of royal blood?”
She leaned over him, reaching for his bonds. “Hush! In addition to your arrow wound, I trow your tongue has healed as well these past days. It would behoove you to use it less and just be grateful you’re alive.”
Her breasts hovered inches above his face. In fact, if he lifted his head, he could bury his face between them. What would she do, this spirited wench, if he chose to do so? He would’ve enjoyed finding out if circumstances had been different. “I’d rather be dead than be a prisoner. But first…I’ll kiss your feet if you’d scratch my nose.”
She made a choking noise in her throat that almost sounded like amusement.
He felt a tug at his ropes and the friction of a knife. By the saints, she was freeing him. He couldn’t allow it.
Air stung his raw skin as soon as one of his wrists came loose. With his one arm still useless in its restraints, he shot out his free hand and clutched her forearm. Using all his strength, he turned her over beneath him, wedging her between his torso and the bed. Nose to nose, he could make out her eyes gone wide with shock in the darkness. “No!” he growled. “Do not let me leave here alive.”
Suddenly, her warrior was upon him and his knife back against Warren’s throat. “Get off the princess, you cur!”
The woman’s blade touched his chest plate. She could dispatch him with ease. Her arms were strong and lean. Her body was far from frail, and he recalled her skillful defeat of his conroi. She twisted beneath his pelvis defensively, and the grinding of her soft mound awoke his sex. Shame heated his cheeks at his sudden need and dark desires. This one time, he would allow himself to speak his mind. “If you release me, Princess, I’ll go to Kidwelly and inform my commanders what has befallen my five men at the hands of you and your people. The king will strike at the subjects of Cantref Mawr with vengeance such as you’ve never known.”
Her expression shifted from stark panic to slow derision as her saucy lips curved up at one corner. “You think I don’t know what you’re capable of?” Her eyes flashed downward meaningfully, and he knew she’d noted the turn of his wicked thoughts. “You want to have your way with me. To tear my clothing from my body and part my legs. But you know nothing of my people, Norman. You haven’t even bothered to learn the language—” she broke off, slurring in Welsh at her vassal.
The burly guard grabbed Warren’s bandaged shoulder, twisting it back until bile climbed in his throat. “Umpff!” While he convulsed in pain, the woman slipped loose and turned him on his back, pinning his groin beneath two very sharp knees. He hissed through his teeth, “Par les saints!”
If he’d been successful in his mission, this devil-wench would’ve been his bride?
“You are my prisoner, knight.” She planted the flat of her hand against his neck, leaving no doubt of her desire for domination as her angry pulse drummed against his skin. “I am the Princess of Deheubarth, widow of Prince Owain ap Daffyd, murdered by your Norman peers. It will be my pleasure keeping you alive. We’re taking you to those who will do with you what they will. I care not. Until then, you are my dog. My captive. My slave. And you will obey!”
Sandra proudly considers herself a history geek. She is the author of five historical romances including the new RiverRogues series set in frontier America. When not researching or writing, she enjoys traveling, genealogy (she’s the direct descendant of a Norman knight) and watching British TV. She and her husband of twenty-five years live in a cabin on the river with two spoiled cats.
She also loves chatting with readers. You can connect with Sandra at any of the following links:
I love reading and writing BDSM stories. I find a sexy alpha male taking control in the bedroom to be hot, hot, hot and I find this kind of relationship working its way into most of my stories in one way or another! Sometimes the heroine is even pushing the hero to step up and take control when he is trying to resist his dominant urges. 🙂
Mostly, I explore the Dom/sub relationship, where one character gives up control to another. What I’m interested in exploring is the exchange of power between the characters. On the surface, it seems that the submissive is giving up control to the Dominant, but during the course of the story, the sub discovers her own power in the relationship.
Usually in my stories, this giving up control is a new thing for the heroine, so I take my readers through the journey of discovery with her, because the heroine is experiencing these things for the first time. In the process, she discovers something important about herself.
When I started exploring this aspect of sexuality in my writing, I wondered, given how long and hard we’ve worked for equality between the sexes, why a woman would give over control to a man. Generally, women have a natural attraction to strong, dominant men. This makes sense in a primitive setting where we want someone strong, skilled, and confident to go out and hunt for food, to protect us and the family. Things may have changed, and we can take care of ourselves, but that primitive instinct is still there. In fact, in our current society, where women have a great deal of power, sometimes in the bedroom, giving control over to someone else—someone we trust—is exactly what we want. The key is that it’s a choice.
As an author, I need to understand what purpose these elements play in the character growth and in the story. Is it just a fun element being added to a sex scene or two to make for more interesting sex, or is it fundamental to the story being told? In my stories, I use the D/s relationship to push the characters’ issues and cause them to grow, so these elements are fundamental to the story and the character growth.
I want to point out that in this exchange of power, it looks like the Dominant has all the power, but in fact, he is responsible for satisfying both their needs, so he must know his partner very well, and be able to read how she is reacting to what they’re playing out. He must be constantly alert and aware of her needs and desires. How sexy is that! 🙂 Also, the sub has the power to end what is going on at any time.
Here are some examples of how I use D/s in my stories:
His To Command – by giving up control to Matt, both physically and emotionally, Kate learns to give up control in her life so she can take risks (i.e. not play it too safe) and stop limiting herself.
His To Claim – Rafe Ranier is the younger of two billionaire brothers, but Rafe was abused by his father because he didn’t feel Rafe was good enough. Rafe feels the desire to dominate Melanie in the bedroom, and she wants him to, but he resists, struggling with his fear that he will be abusive, just like his father was.
Riding Steele – in this book, I explored the negative aspect of D/s as well as the positive. At the beginning of the book, Laurie is in a relationship with a billionaire Dominant, but I turn it around from the usual sexy rich Dom by having this be an abusive relationship. She tries to break it off with him and things turn violent, and she’s rescued by a tattooed biker. She then finds herself under the protection of Steele, the leader of the biker gang. She is now extremely distrustful of dominant men, and she believes this biker is a dangerous man. When she finds herself falling in love with him, and longing to be dominated by him, it becomes clear that in order to find her happily-ever-after, she needs to come to terms with her desire to give over control to someone, realize it’s not a weakness, and overcome her issues about trust.
In my stories, I typically have the hero (or several heroes) as the dominant, but occasionally I like a female Domme. What about you? Do you enjoy a female Domme, or do you prefer the hero to be in control? Everyone who comments will be entered in a draw to win a copy of “The Office Slave series, Book 1 & 2” collection.
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Played by the Master
(available exclusively in the Mastered 2 boxed set)
Opal’s new story, Played by the Master, is initially being released as part of the Mastered 2 boxed set coming out tomorrow (April 21).
Jacqueline Bell desperately wants to help her sister out of a jam. But to do that, she has to find a way to talk to billionaire entrepreneur Race Danner, and have him drop the charges against her brother-in-law. She discovers he holds an exclusive poker game once a week and finds a way in.
Race Danner is bored with his life, despite his wealth and extreme hobbies. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for, but he’ll know it when he sees it.
When Jacqueline Bell walks into his life, he knows she’s it. She wants something from him. And he wants her. A combination made in heaven. In a delicious game of cat and mouse, he will leverage his advantage to lure her into his game. And he fully intends to win.
Warning: This story has Domination, submission, bondage, punishment, and a lot of other fun things, plus explicit, wild sexual encounters. After all, if you’re going to play, play hard! 😉
Excerpt:
He smiled and at the predatory look in his eyes, Jacquie realized he was going to win. The blood drained from her face as he flipped over his cards… revealing a full house.
Oh, God, she’d lost her opportunity to try and convince him to help her brother.
“Come over here.” His silken voice curled through her and she stood up.
Now he would touch her… probably cup her ass with his big hand. Maybe, if she seemed willing…who was she kidding, she was willing… to succumb to his touch, then maybe he would listen to her after all.
Shock vaulted through her at her own illicit thoughts. She wasn’t going to sleep with him to help her brother.
No, just strip down to practically nothing. Then let him touch her.
For the first time in forever, I’m going to Little Rock for a Diamond State Romance Authors meeting! I swear it’s probably been a year and a half since I attended. Hope I recognize some folks… My sister Elle James is speaking, so I’m going for moral support and because she’s making me go. 🙂
Post a comment today, and you’ll be entered to win a free download from either my Lone Star Lovers series or my Triple Horn Brand series! Here’s the question…
Churches have crosses and steeples, governments buildings have flag poles… What might you like to put on your roof to set it apart from everyone else’s?
What would I put on my roof… A giant book? The head of a hellhound? How about a weather vane with a witch riding a broom? Have fun with your answer!
And in case you didn’t know, I do have a sexy, new story out there right now…
Two construction workers come to the aid of one woman looking for a last taste of freedom…
Note: This 6000-word short story was previously published in Penthouse Magazine and Suite Encounters: Hotel Sex Stories, and has been revised and expanded. It may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!
When the blare of a TV sounded from outside, I had third and fourth thoughts about my decision to stop here for the night. What the hell? Why had someone moved their television set outside rather than watch in the seclusion of their room where the sound would be somewhat muffled?
I gritted my teeth, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and reached for shorts and a tee, slipping them over my nude body and the keys into my pocket before I stomped to the door and flung it open.
Not that the two men sitting on the truck noticed me—at first.
Under the single flood light that illuminated the parking lot, I noted the construction company logo on the side of the pickup backed up to the door of the room beside mine. Then I eyed the large men seated on the sides of the truck bed, their shirts gone, faded jeans stretched over thick thighs. Their attention was glued to the basketball game, blaring from the small screen of the TV they had set in the bed of the truck on top of a white ice chest. They held Budweisers in their grips.
At last, one of the men’s heads turned. He spotted me then whistled at his friend. Soon both their gazes peered down.
I felt foolish standing in my bare feet with my wet hair spiked around my head. Why hadn’t I simply put a pillow over my head to muffle their noise? But I was testy. Moody. I’d lost my job, had a blow-up with my boyfriend over the fact I wouldn’t be splitting rent with him for a while, and cut my nose off to spite my own face by breaking up with him. Homeless now, I had no options. Grandma’s in Little Rock was my last resort.
Tonight would be my last night of freedom before I moved under her roof and abided by her rules. She’d pay the bills—if I knuckled under and went back to school. Something I resented after being on my own for a couple of years, living by my rules.
Which might have been exactly why I remained rooted to that spot. The men seated on the truck would never meet Grandma’s high standards.
Sweat gleamed on their naked chests and both of them were thickly muscled and a little dirty—as though they’d come straight from work without the benefit of a shower.
The shine only served to emphasize the depth of the musculature and their starkly masculine features. Their tanned skin stretched across cheeks and jaws that were sharpened to rough edges by hard work.
Both their gazes homed on me, and while I knew the smart thing would have been to retreat without a word to my room and relock the door, I tilted my chin and thrust out my chest. “Can’t you watch the game in your room?”
“We botherin’ you, sweetheart?” the one closest to me said, sliding off the truck to land in front of me.
I peered a long way up and frowned into the face tilted my way. We stood close enough I could see the bristles of his evening shadow. He wore a ball cap that shadowed his eyes, but glints of blond hair shone beneath it. “It’s late. I was trying to sleep.”
“It’s not that late,” he drawled. “Join us for a beer?”
I glanced behind him and noted the grin on his buddy’s face. He was bare-headed with shaggy brown hair and a devilish quirk to his firm lips. The game seemed to have lost its fascination. Their gazes drank me down like I was long cool drink.
I barely resisted the urge to jut my hip and twirl my hair.
“Bobby, the night clerk, can vouch for us if you’re wonderin’ whether we’re safe,” the one beside me said, amusement lingering in his husky voice.
I shouldn’t have been tempted. However, my body still hummed pleasurably from the heat I’d drawn with my own lazy fingers. Even sweaty, the two men were tempting. Both young, in good shape. Both interested if their sharpening gazes were any indication.
And what the hell? It wasn’t as if I had anyone to answer to. Not at this moment. There was no boyfriend to betray.
My mouth went dry and I swallowed. “Is the beer cold?”
*~*~*~*~*
If you’d like to check out more of my recent short story releases…
3) My demon kingdom is filled with every luscious otherworld creature you can imagine—or I can anyway. Since I didn’t want to choose, I packed it with my favorites. (Okay, so now you know I’m writing this series for my own entertainment!) In Once in a Blue Moon, the hero was a troll! Doesn’t sound sexy? WRONG! In UBM, my main hero is a sea draugr? Don’t know what that is? Sorry, you have to read the story—but I will say he’s based on Norse lore. Plus, there are two mermen, twins in fact, who fill up the story and parts of Miren’s anatomy quite well. And what’s coming? A wolf for sure, because I do love furry heroes. Maybe a gargoyle or a djinn. I’m having fun with the variety. I hope you will too!
Sandra proudly considers herself a history geek. She is the author of five historical romances including the new River Rogues series set in frontier America. When not researching or writing, she enjoys traveling, genealogy (she’s the direct descendant of a Norman knight) and watching British TV. She and her husband of twenty-five years live in a cabin on the river with two spoiled cats.
Two construction workers come to the aid of one woman looking for a last taste of freedom…
