Welcome to the Dark Side

By Ashe Barker (Guest Blogger)

Wow, what an honour! It’s so fantastic to be here, guesting on the lovely Lisabet Sarai’s blog to tell you a bit about The Dark Side. And I’m in such good company – I read Rajasthani Moon as soon as it was released and absolutely loved it. I’ve just finished reading the Tied to the Billionaire anthology too, and found Andrew MacIntyre to be just my sort of BDSM alpha male hero – focused, single-minded, demanding, explicit to the point of crude, but with a sloppy soft centre when confronted by the right sort of submissive. But more on all that later…

I’ve been asked, many times, about why I decided to write The Dark Side, and why start my author career with a story centring on BDSM?

‘Is it autobiographical?’ my mother in law asked when she first learned of it, looking distinctly nervous. My answer, ‘In parts…” and I left it to her to work out which bits. As far as I know she hasn’t made further inquiries of my husband. Probably best left at that.

In truth, the idea really came together last summer when, along with most of the rest of the English-speaking world, I read the immortal E. L James through a haze of Ambre Solaire. And I was hooked. I wanted to weave a similar story, but mine would be more realistic, at least in my terms, and most definitely set in the UK. And I wanted a heroine who might be naive, inexperienced – well, we all have to start somewhere, but who would have a wealth of hidden talent waiting to be revealed. And I defy anyone to be able to lay claim to much more talent that Eva Byrne.

And Nathan, her alpha male? He’s the embodiment of all that I like most in dominant men – long dark hair, dark eyes, single minded, successful but without being filthy rich, and with a depth of ‘real life’. Nathan is a Dom, but he’s also a father, an employer, a friend. He enjoys sports, loves cars. He’s generous, caring, but in his dealings with his submissives he is absolutely unrelenting. Then along comes Eva, and his attraction to her is much more than physical. As each layer is peeled back, as she is drawn further and further into his dark world of erotic fantasy, he becomes more and more intrigued by her.

The Dark Side was originally conceived in Nando’s over a piri piri chicken. Soon after returning from the Ambre Solaire holiday I met a friend for lunch. She’d also read the Fifty Shades books, and was as hooked as I was. We wondered how E. L. James knew all that stuff, was it based on experience? All the same questions I get asked now, I suppose.

“No, no,” my friend said. “Not necessarily. You can find anything on the internet. Just do the research.” And in that moment I knew she was right. It could be done. I could draw on my own experience, and add in anything else at all from the wonderful, all-knowing worldwide web.

I didn’t tell anyone that I was writing a novel, not for ages. No one at all. I work from home, and although I have a separate office I tend to just set up my laptop on the kitchen table. I had to keep slamming it shut every time my daughter came in. I was constantly getting those grumpy messages from Windows about not being correctly closed down. I didn’t care. My internet history was a scandal during those months, and come to think of it, still is. I think the most graphic thing I looked at back then was a video of a Brazilian waxing session, but I was also all over the places where BDSM devotees do their online shopping. And when I came across anything unfamiliar there were lots of helpful little instructions, safety warnings, and so on. What could go wrong?

And whilst I was developing the story, becoming more and more engrossed in the evolving dynamic between Eva and Nathan, I was wondering what the hell to do with the novel when it was finished. What I knew about publishing would have fit nicely on the back of a stamp. I hadn’t a clue if anyone but me would ever meet these two people. So as well as watching online videos of spanking and anal play I was also researching likely routes to getting this published. By chance I read an article by fellow Total-E-Bound author Tanith Davenport in a magazine. She mentioned her publisher, Total-E-Bound, so their website was my next stop. They looked to be perfect, exactly the sort of publisher who might like my stuff, so from then on I wrote with Total-E-Bound in mind.

I started the book in September 2012, and set myself the deadline of completing the story by Christmas. By the beginning of December it was still a long way from complete, and I realised I needed to get serious. So I blew my cover, told my husband and daughter what I was working on, and that they’d have to get their own tea for a while.

They took the news quite calmly.

“What’s it about mum?”

“Well, you remember that Fifty Shades thing from last year…?”

“Oh, a mucky book then. Can I read it? And do you know where my hair straighteners are?”

I pulled out all the stops and finished the manuscript at about half past nine on the evening of Christmas Eve. I spent the rest of the holiday re-reading the first draft, tarting it up where I could, then first job in the New Year I sent the first three chapters and the last one to Total-E-Bound. About ten days later I got an email requesting the rest of the manuscript. That night I celebrated. There followed a couple of weeks of editorial to-ing and fro-ing during which time the book was split into the three parts of the trilogy, then I was offered a contract.

I was an author! Fancy that.

I do a couple of other things as well, nothing to do with writing fiction, but I probably spend about seventy five percent of my time now on writing and related activity. That seems about right to me and it’s how it will be for the foreseeable future. As long as I’ve got erotic fantasies to share, and people want to read the conjurings of my imagination, this is what I love doing.

But enough of my ramblings. Here’s an excerpt from Darkening, the first book in the trilogy. It charts Eva’s first experience of Nathan’s approach to BDSM.

Blurb

Who knows where pain ends and pleasure begins?

The chance of a new life out in the wilds of the Bronte moors sounds too good to be true to shy musician Eva Byrne. Stifled and smothered within the cocoon of her brilliant academic career, Eva yearns for something different. Something real and exciting. Something she can feel. 

Excitement. Passion. Pleasure She finds that sexy, enigmatic Nathan Darke can provide all these and more when she moves into his home as violin tutor to his young daughter. But Eva’s sensual encounters with her demanding, domineering new employer quickly evoke her deepest fears, as he introduces her to the trauma of submission, and marks her with his particularly dark brand of love.

But will Eva’s natural curiosity and thirst for new experiences be enough to withstand the sting of Nathan Darke’s exquisite touch? Will simple surrender be enough as he challenges her every inhibition, taking her on an erotic journey of self-discovery and liberation?

Darkening is the first book in The Dark Side trilogy, charting the sensual journey of academic musician Eva Byrne as she struggles to overcome painful shyness, sexual inhibition and personal tragedy. Lonely, unsophisticated, desperately seeking love and approval, Eva is easy prey for sensual and experienced Nathan Darke.

He wants her submission, and he knows how to go about getting it. Eva is quickly caught up by the whirlwind of his effortless seduction, though she has her own reasons for agreeing to join him in his world of pain and pleasure, on The Dark Side.

Inexplicably fascinated and at the same time totally frustrated by his new submissive, Nathan is increasingly drawn to her as she opens up in his hands and he realises there is much, much more to his latest playmate than he ever could have imagined.

The Dark Side charts the turbulent relationship between Eva and Nathan as their mutual fascination builds. They both discover what surrender truly means as together they explore the fragile bonds of desire, trust, risk and reward, and the destructive power of betrayal.

Excerpt

“Okay.” He taps the screen a few more times to complete the purchases. Then, slipping his hand out of my bra, he pulls me to my feet and quickly turns me to face the table. His hand in the small of my back, he pushes me face down across the hardwood surface, sliding the iPad and my coffee cup to one side.

I start in surprise as he lifts the hem of my dress—surely he just said…

Then I moan out loud as he again slips his hand into my clothing, this time down the back of my lovely red lacy briefs, down the hollow between my buttocks, slowing slightly to circle my anus with one gentle fingertip. I stiffen, waiting…

“So sweet and tight. We’ll come back to this,” he murmurs softly, leaning close to kiss my neck before continuing on between the wet, swollen lips of my vagina. He slips one finger inside my moist entrance, working gently in and out, circling the outer lips, spreading my juices all around. I moan faintly, lifting my bum up in welcome. He slides a second finger inside, whilst with his other hand he attacks from the front to take my swollen clitoris between his thumb and finger, gently rubbing.

The combined pleasure is so intense, so centred, so sudden, it overwhelms me and I come immediately. I scream, unable to contain any of the fabulous sensation of internal fragmentation now shooting out through my outstretched fingers—white-knuckled, still gripping the edge of the table—and my toes, still encased in my lovely, red fuck-me shoes. I whimper, almost in frustration that my climax has hit me before I even saw it coming.

“I’m not finished with you yet. Stay there.”

More? How wonderful.

His voice is low, seductive and commanding. I stay still. Waiting. He straightens, steps away from me, goes

over to his desk. He returns a moment later, gently pulling my underwear down to my ankles. “Step out.” His command is clear. I obey.

“You have a beautiful bottom, Miss Byrne,” he observes, trailing his fingertips lightly down the furrow between my buttocks, then tracing the line of each lower curve before bringing something down on me—hard, sharp, fierce. I scream out loud, with shock more than pain, though the sting is real enough. Instinctively I start to stand up, but his hand goes to the small of my back, pressing me back down.

“We agreed on five strokes for every frown. I counted at least four frowns since we came into this room, and that’s me being generous, Miss Byrne. So that’s twenty strokes. Agreed?”

I don’t answer, still reeling from the sudden assault. He strikes me again, and I scream again, louder. “Agreed, Miss Byrne?”

“Yes, yes. Please don’t…”

“Eighteen to go, then. Grit your teeth, Miss Byrne.”

I do, flinching with every blow, my fingers curled desperately around the opposite edge of the table. Counting slowly. He takes his time, waiting between each blow for me to settle again, to be ready. After ten strokes he stops, places a ruler beside my face on the table, and steps away again. I know not to move. He comes back after a few moments and I feel something cool, soothing, being smoothed into my red-hot and extremely sore buttocks. He gently massages me, kneading my tender skin where his ruler has done its work.

“You’re new to this, Miss Byrne, so I’m really being very gentle with you. Next time it will be harder.” He taps my buttock lightly with his palm. “Relax—we’ll soon be done.” He stands, picks up the ruler again. “Are you ready to continue, Miss Byrne?”

I know he will demand an answer so I whisper my consent, and he starts again. The next ten blows are excruciating. He alternates between bringing his ruler down hard on first one side of my bottom, then the other, always hitting the same spot on each cheek and now not even waiting for me to collect myself between blows. Each new blow builds on the sting left by the one before it. I lie there in my world of pain, biting my lip to keep from sobbing, waiting for him to finish.

After the twentieth stroke he straightens, stands still behind me. I can imagine his eyes on my abused bottom, and just hope he’s satisfied. I know better than to say as much, though, and I wait, desperate for him to give me permission to get up. I lie there, frozen with dread at what might be coming next.

“Open your legs, Eva.”

I comply, too scared to resist. Tense, shaking, I can feel the tears streaming from my eyes. Am I about to lose my virginity here, humiliated and hurting, facedown on a table, trying not to sob out loud? Please, no, not like this…

“Wider, Eva.”

I force myself to spread my legs as far as I can. There’s no point arguing. His fingers are on me, gently opening the lips of my vagina. I gulp, tensing, waiting for the pain I know is coming. I feel something slip easily inside me. It’s not… What is it?

“Aaah!” My gasp is one of shock, not pain, as I feel vibrations start to pulse through me, from my inner core radiating outwards. He is standing now, not touching me, his hands flat on the table on either side of my head. He leans down to kiss the back of my neck, to whisper in my ear, “Enjoy, Eva. You’ve earned it.”

Gently, firmly, he runs his hands all over my back, massaging, comforting. Reaching lower, he smoothes some more cooling cream into my buttocks. I sigh, writhing with pleasure and need as the internal pulsing gathers strength, massaging my internal walls too. “Oh, yes, please, please…” I am almost mindless with desire as he reaches around me to lightly feather his fingertips across my clitoris. Little by little, any remaining pain dissipates and the sensuous delight builds, growing, reaching farther and wider into my inner self. I am desperate with need, murmuring incoherently, begging him to help me.

“Tell me what you want, Eva. What is it you need?”

“I want… I want you to… Oh, yes, that’s so good.” The pulsing of the vibrator inside my vagina is so strong now, urgent, unrelenting, irresistible. I know my orgasm isn’t far away. My hips are jerking, trying to increase the pressure on my clitoris, but he keeps his touch featherlight, teasing me, tantalising me.

“Please…” I’m desperate, so very desperate…

“Is this what you want?” He increases the pressure, only slightly, but enough to have my clitoris leaping to attention, swollen, seeking.

He circles my greedy clit with his finger, once, twice. Then, merciful at last, he takes it between his fingers and thumb and rolls it firmly. The result is instantaneous. My orgasm goes off like a volcano, my hips thrusting and gyrating for long moments as I ride the waves of intense pleasure flowing freely through me. I might even have lost consciousness towards the end, because the next thing I am aware of is the sensation of the vibrator, silent and still now, as Nathan slides it out of my vagina. Too spent to move, I am still lying draped over the table, boneless and very, very satisfied.

And as my brainpower returns to something like normal—whatever that is these days—I feel overwhelming relief to have come through my first ‘test’ relatively unscathed.

“Can you stand, Eva?” he asks me, wryly adding, “You certainly won’t be able to sit for a while.”

Using my hands to lever myself up off the table, I slowly get to my feet. My skirt drops back down over my bottom, and at least outwardly I am decent again. Good God, what just happened?

His hands on my shoulders, Nathan turns me to face him. Then, taking my face between his hands, he lifts it carefully, looks into my eyes. “You’ve been crying, sweetheart,” he says, gently wiping my remaining tears with his thumbs before dropping his lips to mine.

Despite all that has just happened, all he has done to me, the pain is forgotten as I melt under his kiss. My arms come up of their own volition and I clasp my hands behind his neck, holding onto him for dear life, because otherwise, I am definitely going to hit the carpet at his feet. I open my mouth under his. His tongue darts inside, stroking me, dancing with mine, tasting me. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, playing with me, and I respond as always. Despite everything.

Breaking the kiss, he nuzzles my neck. “Are we okay, sweetheart?” he asks me. “Am I forgiven? Did I make up for it?”

My answer is to turn my head and capture his mouth, initiating my first kiss with him rather than just responding to his. He tightens his arms around me, and this time I let my tongue go exploring. I am deliriously happy.

After long, dragging moments he lifts his head, nudges his nose playfully against mine. His eyes are warm, deep and sensual, drawing me in.

“Welcome to the Dark Side, Miss Byrne.”

About Ashe

In 2010 I escaped the public sector in the UK, and started to write. Now I count myself among the lucky few who do what they love doing and manage to make a living out of it.

The Dark Side trilogy was the first completed piece, to be released from July 2013 by those lovely people at Total-e-Bound. This was followed by another tie-in trilogy, Sure Mastery, also in the Total-e-Bound pipeline.

I like to write about people, relationships, and the general cock-up and mayhem that is most of our lives. I often write about places I’ve known, and have a particular fondness for setting stories in the north of England where I live. But my tales of love, challenge, resilience and compassion are the conjurings of my own imagination. With a hefty dose of kink to keep it interesting. We all need to have a hobby. And the hotter the better.

I love to craft strong, sexy, enigmatic and dominant men who know their way around a woman’s body. And bright, sassy, self-reliant women to give them a hard time – in every sense of the word. I’ve loved reading erotic fiction for many years – historical, contemporary, fantasy, romance. Now I’m lucky enough to realize my dreams of writing my own stories. I hope others enjoy them as much as I do.

When I’m not writing my time is divided between my role as resident taxi-driver for my teenage daughter, best friend and wife to my lovely, long-suffering and sometimes bemused husband, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, cat, rabbits, tortoises, cockatiel. And Colin the hamster.

I love to hear from readers and fellow authors. I can be reached on ashe.barker1@gmail.com. I’m also on Facebook, and on twitter

Buy Links:

Book 1, Darkening is available from

www.amazon.com

www.amazon.co.uk 

Book 2, Darker is available from Total-E-Bound

Book 3, Darkest is available from 18 October, also from Total-E-Bound

A Case of You - Free Story and Contest!

My free BDSM tale A Case of You is now live at Total-E-Bound.

No wine is as sweet as surrender.

After years as her master’s sub, Rebecca believes she can endure any extreme of pain or pleasure he might care to inflict upon her. A visit to the California wine country and the heady thrill of being desired by a younger man teach her otherwise.

Click here to read it!

 

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=2353

Then send me an email, to contest [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com, with the subject line "Wine" and tell me what you think. I'll enter you into a drawing to win a copy of the great BDSM anthology Switch, which includes my novella Mastering Maya.

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=1851

I'll do the drawing next Sunday and announce the winner here on my blog.

New Contract - A Sneak Peek at Rough Weather!

Just popping in to share the news that Total-E-Bound has just contracted my new short, Rough Weather. Unfortunately the book won't be available until January 2014 - in fact the VIP release date is my birthday - but I guess that gives me plenty of time to build your anticipation, right?

Rough Weather is set in the same universe as my paranormal story Hot Spell. In fact, the main characters, Ondine and Marut, show up briefly in the latter tale. Rough Weather could be considered a prequel since it explains how Ondine and Marut found one another. The story is set on the island of Martha's Vineyard, a very special place with a lot of memories for me.

If you enjoy a steamy paranormal erotic romance with just a hint of BDSM, this is the book for you. Just to tease you, here's the blurb and a snippet.

Destiny hides in the tempest’s heart

Ondine has always felt at home in the sea. Orphaned at birth and raised by her grandmother on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, she has never really questioned her extraordinary affinity for the watery world. She concentrates on her work as a marine biologist, spends her weekends relaxing among the waves, and worries about human threats to her beloved ocean environment. Fears of a deadly pregnancy like her mother’s make her cautious about sex.

When she encounters an attractive but arrogant engineer on her private beach, surveying the site for a prospective off-shore wind farm, anger is her first reaction. A casual touch, however, transforms that emotion to incomprehensible, irresistible, terrifying lust.

Ebony-skinned Marut has his own talents – aside from his uncanny ability to swamp Ondine with desire. He can control the winds and summon storms. He informs Ondine that they share a supernatural heritage and claims she is his destined mate. She responds with scepticism and tries to resist the charismatic Haitian, but ultimately her scientist’s training won’t permit her to deny the evidence of her senses – and her heart. As a brutal northeaster batters the island and Marut’s life hangs in the balance, Ondine learns that true power lies in surrender to her elemental nature.

Excerpt (Rated R)

“I want to bind you.” Marut brandished a pale coil of rope Ondine had never seen before. He had stripped her of her clothes, settled her on her back on top of the quilt and told her to remain still. Simultaneously pliant and eager, she awaited his next move.

Standing naked at the foot of the bed, he reminded her of some Nubian Hercules. Candlelight made flickering patterns on the sculpted ebony of his chest and danced along the length of his massively erect cock. The luscious sight temporarily distracted Ondine from his words. Saliva flooded her mouth as she remembered his hot seed spilling through her fingers. How she wanted to taste him!

“Do I have your permission, pitit?” He trailed one end of the cord between her breasts and down her belly, making her shiver with delight. She struggled to remain still as he had instructed. “It will strengthen the connection between us, if you trust me enough to render you helpless.”

How could the bond be any stronger? Already her awareness was attuned to his, registering both his excitement and his doubts. One part of her was more than willing to accede to his request. Another cringed at the notion, near-panicked at the notion of so completely relinquishing control of her body.

He dangled the rope-end between her spread thighs and drew it upward to lightly brush her pubic curls. Electric pleasure arced down to her core. Her hungry pussy clamped down on empty space. “Do it,” she gasped, as he flipped the rope back and forth across her mound, grazing her clit. The panic fled, drowned in sensation. “Oh, please, Marut...!”

Her companion chuckled. His strong fingers clamped around her wrists and drew them over her head. Lust surged whenever, wherever he touched her. Faint echoes of fear returned with the first loop of rope around her crossed hands, but the purse of his firm lips upon her nipple banished her last reservations.

 

 ***

Better start counting the days - I certainly am!

New Release and Giveaway!

The sensational anthology Tied to the Billionaire is now available as a VIP special release at the Total-E-Bound website. This book includes six sexy tales about billionaires, bondage and matrimony, including my historical novelette Challenge to Him. Between now and the general release date of 16 August, you can buy the book - in any ebook format you prefer - from TEB and get a 10% discount off the regular price. TEB can send the book directly to your Kindle or Nook, just like the big guys! So what are you waiting for?

To entice you, I've got a brand new, never before revealed excerpt from Challenge to Him. And to thank you for taking the time to check it out, I'm giving away a copy of my "other billionaire book", my romantic BDSM erotica novel Nasty Business. Just leave a comment with your email address, telling me what you'd do if you had a sinfully rich partner like Andrew MacIntyre.

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All the wealth in the world can’t buy willing surrender.

Andrew MacIntyre, heir to a vast empire of railroads, mines and mills, is the second or third richest man in America, and by far the most eligible bachelor among the society folk summering in Newport, Rhode Island. His mother has filled their opulent mansion with marriageable daughters of bankers and industrialists, but Andrew knows none of these callow young women can satisfy his perverse sexual needs. No respectable girl would ever consent to being bound and beaten, to serving and obeying him the way he craves. His money gives him the freedom to purchase anything except his heart’s desire—a submissive partner to share his life.

Independent, progressive and well-educated, labour activist Olivia Alcott has dedicated herself to improving the lot of the workers who toil in the factories that have made Andrew and his class so wealthy. The strike she organises triggers a confrontation between her and the handsome billionaire. Although their disparate backgrounds and values make them natural foes, something stronger draws them to one another—an intuitive recognition of complementary fantasies. Andrew offers Olivia a bargain—better working conditions for the mill staff, in return for a weekend of her unquestioning obedience. Olivia will help him deflect the attentions of the potential mates assembled by his mother, as well as providing more intimate services. Given Olivia’s origins, a more enduring relationship appears impossible—but Andrew is not the sort to give up something he wants.

Excerpt

“Olivia, I have a proposition for you.” She did not resist when he led her to the automobile and installed her inside. As he breathed her lilac perfume mingled with her clean sweat, his erection grew more insistent. “There’s to be a ball this weekend at Wavecrest, my house in Newport. My mother has invited what she considers to be the cream of society, including every eligible—that is, single and wealthy—female she can think of. She’s determined to marry me off to one of these creatures, regardless of my wishes.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Her frown of perplexity delighted him. He could practically see the wheels turning in her agile mind as she tried to understand his motives.

“I need an escort, a woman to keep at my side all weekend so I can fend off the advances of all these would-be Mrs MacInytres. Come back to Newport with me. Spend the weekend. If you do, I’ll seriously consider the question of raising the workers’ salaries.”

Olivia laughed, a bright, clear sound that sent a stab of want to his groin. “Me, a poor professor’s daughter, at a society ball? I’d be as out of place as a Hottentot in the White House! I don’t have the airs and graces of a Rockefeller girl. And what would I wear?” She indicated her dusty brown frock. “I doubt very much this would be appropriate.”

“No one need know who you are—we’ll invent some mysterious identity for you. You can be the illegitimate American child of a Hungarian prince, how’s that? As for clothing, I will supply everything you’ll need.” He gave her luscious body a frank once-over that brought the blush back to her face, to his immense satisfaction. “I suspect your measurements are quite comparable to my sister Ann’s. You could wear one of her dresses. But no, that won’t do—you must be the most resplendent creature at the ball. We’ll stop at Ann’s dressmaker on the way and have you fitted for a new gown. With adequate monetary incentives, I’m sure the dress can be ready by tomorrow evening. We’ll pick up a whole kit for you, tennis and boating outfits, morning attire, underclothes. With jewels to match each ensemble, of course…”

“Mr MacIntyre, doesn’t the impropriety of what you’re suggesting bother you in the least?”

Her critical tone brought him up short. What would people say about a single young woman, unchaperoned, in Andrew’s constant company? He’d hoped she was less conventional than the women of his regular circle, but, given the importance of reputation, he couldn’t blame her for her concern.

“You’re essentially trying to buy my sympathies, aren’t you?” she continued. “You suppose that if you lavish enough money upon me, I’ll drop my support for the strike and encourage the workers to return to their looms, correct?”

“Not at all…”

“Well, it won’t work. I intend to spend every minute we are together reminding you of the plight of these poor women. I shall work upon your conscience, sir, until you have no choice but to do the right thing.”

“What? Then—you agree? You’ll come to Newport?”

“How could I pass up the opportunity to do so much good?” A smile played at the corners of her compressed lips and Andrew understood that she was teasing him. Yes, she was serious about her cause, but she wanted to join him for other reasons. Hope flared in his chest while desire hardened his loins.

“Thank you, Olivia.” He clamped his hand down upon her smaller one. Her breath hitched with excitement she could not hide. He focused all the force of his will upon her, compelling her to meet his gaze. “There’s one more thing to which you must assent.”

“Yes? What’s that?” She was brave, this woman. The girls on the lawn this morning would have wilted under that stare, but she held her own.

“You must agree to follow my orders in every particular and without question. Otherwise, your charade may be unmasked and we’ll both suffer.”

“In every particular? Even if you should command some indecency?” Her hand still lay beneath his. The pulse fluttered in her wrist like a captive bird.

“In every particular, as I said, and without question.” Full of anxiety, he searched her lovely face. Would she change her mind? “I promise I won’t allow any harm to come to you, Miss Alcott.”

She allowed the smile he’d seen her fighting to bloom. He released the breath he had not realised he’d been holding.

“I agree, Mr MacIntyre—Sir. Shall we be on our way?”

Celebrating Six Years of Romance

Last week, Total-E-Bound celebrated its sixth anniversary. Since I was one of the first authors to sign with TEB, that means I've been writing romance for six years. When I look back, I can see that I've come a long way.

Before I was contacted by Claire (the delightful founder of TEB), I considered myself an author of erotica. At that point, I had published three erotic novels plus quite a number of short stories, and I was looking for someone to buy my fourth novel, Exposure - without much success. I was feeling pretty discouraged, too, since my main publisher, Blue Moon Books, had been sold, and then sold again, to a company that appeared more embarrassed by than interested in erotic content.

When I got Claire's email, I knew nothing whatsoever about the romance genre. Unlike many of my peers, I was totally unfamiliar with Harlequin, Nora Roberts, Danielle Steele, and other romance stalwarts. The only romance I'd ever read was Daphne du Maurier's wonderful Frenchman's Creek, a thrilling tale of the love affair between a bored eighteenth century noblewoman and a dashing, dangerous pirate. And I didn't even know this was a romance until I started learning the romance ropes.

I think I've blogged previously about the way some romance "rules" rubbed me the wrong way. I didn't have too much of a problem with happy endings - all three of my previous novels provided at least a HFN. My difficulty was keeping my characters from running around with people other than their primary love interest. They tended to be hot-blooded individuals eager to explore their sexuality, with whomever happened to be handy. This is fine in erotica, but I learned when I published my first M/M story, Tomorrow's Gifts, that romance readers frown on that sort of promiscuous behavior. A big chunk of that story involves the interactions between the main character Michael and Thorn, the sexy Dom who seems as though he might be the one destined to fulfill Michael's unsatisfied dreams of submission. In the end, the hero chooses his long-time lover, but I got some serious thumbs down for my failure to focus only on the couple.

Another issue I had to confront was my fondness for non-alpha males. You'd never guess it from my first novel Raw Silk - Gregory Marshall is about as dominant as they come - but I really prefer nerds. Intelligence, perceptiveness and a sense of humor are far more important to me than biceps and an attitude. I like guys who wear glasses and who play chess (or Scrabble, as in my M/M tale Crossed Hearts) more than those who play wear Armani and play rugby. Now, I think I can make my beta guys just as sexy as any alpha, but not all readers agree.

Of the eight novels I've written, only two (Raw Silk and Rajasthani Moon) feature true alpha heroes. Mark in Incognito is a mild-mannered professor who just happens to have an incredibly kinky side. Rick Martell in Nasty Business is skinny and manipulative, though he does have tremendous natural sex appeal. Jorge, the shape-shifting hero of Serpent's Kiss, is the incarnation of a god, but he's gentle and unsure when it comes to love. My two M/M novels, Necessary Madness and Quarantine, deal with pairs of men with both strengths and weaknesses. None of them is the tough, gorgeous hunk romance readers seem to crave.

Speaking of glasses, I also had to learn that romance readers really want to know what characters look like. In my erotica, I often don't describe the physical attributes of the characters at all, but in romance, this just won't fly. Over the years, I've started searching for photos to help me visualize the people I'm writing about. (In fact, you can see pictures of Cecily, Pratan and Amir from Rajasthani Moon over at Allie Ritch's blog all this week - and maybe win yourself a copy of the book, if you take time to comment!)

Anyway, I think I'm finally getting the hang of this romance thing! I've discovered that I can bend some of the rules and still be forgiven. And it does seem that romance readers are becoming more flexible and broad-minded, that erotica and erotic romance are blending these days in some very interesting ways.

That's part of what keeps me enthusiastic and inspired - that, and my readers, whom I cherish. I never expected the kind of support and validation I've found in the romance community. From that perspective, it has been a great half-dozen years. I look forward to many more.

Whipping Up a Hero

By M.K. Schiller (Guest Blogger)

Sorry if the title is misleading, but I hope I got your attention! I want to chat with you all about one of my favorite aspects of writing…creating characters, especially palatable protagonists. When I read a book, I want to identify with the heroine, but I desperately need to fall in love with the hero. I want a visceral reaction of my own – one that may induce swooning, sighing, and smirking when taken in large quantities. The substance of a great hero is a culmination of many internal and external factors, and the choices are like an endless buffet. It’s like your mother always said, ‘you won’t know if you like it, unless you try it.’

Recently, a critique partner told me the hero in my current work-in-progress was somewhat beta. I disagreed, choosing to view him as a gentle bodice ripper. The kind of man who will defend the heroine to his death, but does not actively look for a fight (he is a college math major after all). However, the comment made me think about how to marinade and season the perfect alpha/beta male specimen, so I started a list.

In my humble opinion, the ultimate hero is muscular, but not overly so... more swimmer than weight lifter. His eyes can be blue, green or red for all I care, but they have to be sparkling or mischievous. Sprinkle in some unique character traits like jagged scars, meaningful tattoos (not overly done), or boyish dimples to add zest. As for danger, it has to make sense or it will overpower your creation. He’s not dangerous because he’s stupid. He’s dangerous because he’s protecting someone (probably our heroine), or he works in a field that commands it. I’m not into bad boys without a purpose.

My hunky hero is savory and sweet. He’s incredibly smart and successful, but occasionally silly and spontaneous too. The kind of guy that can laugh at himself. He’s loyal even if he doesn’t realize it. He’s cocky enough to be confident about his sex appeal, but not conceited. He’s the jealous type, but not obsessive. He has angst…lots and lots of angst to pepper his character. Women are nurturing in general, and this ingredient makes the final dish more mouth-watering. Then again, maybe he’s just normal and has the right amount of sugar to cure our acidic heroine. Add in a heaping cup of charm, a pinch of fury (for drama), a teaspoon of selfishness (to make him real), a hearty dash of rebellion (I like my food spicy), and there you have it! My recipe for a yummy hero, Witches of Eastwick style. It’s pretty cool to be an author!

It’s not enough to just describe him though, because I think many women would have similar ingredients in their cupboards, and we don’t want all our dishes to taste the same (most embarrassing when you’re at a potluck). So, let me give you some examples. If you’ve ever seen Jerry McGuire, I love Tom Cruise’s character…yes, he had me at hello. He was a self-absorbed, fickle man that didn’t see his flaws, until he meets the heroine and her adorable little boy. Then there’s George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life –I know it’s not a romance, but I love this movie. A very different hero who sets aside his own life for others, yet he always felt cheated by the sacrifices he made, until a certain angel crosses his path. Finally, there is Christian Grey from Fifty Shades of Grey fame. I know there are some differing opinions here, but there’s something to be said about a man who’s both powerful and vulnerable. If you had told me a few years ago I’d find a man who got off on dominating woman and had mommy issues irresistible, I’d say you were crazy, but that’s exactly what E.L. James did. She made me fall for that man. Now, I love dominating men as much as fiery shrimp Gumbo. 

Isn’t that what a good story should do - make you think outside the box, or in this case, the casserole pan? The three examples above probably have you wondering if I’ve lost my mind, but the reality is, like the food we eat, the hero we choose to love is subjective. You may not love my hero choices, and if they were placed in another time or setting I might not love them either. It takes too much or not enough of one ingredient to spoil the whole pot. That’s what’s so great about an enticing hero - he’s flavorful, but everyone’s taste buds are different. No matter what your preference is, always heat on high and serve piping hot!

I am honored that Lisabet asked me on her blog. I am new employee at the hero factory, with my debut novel set to come out on July 26^th from Total-E-Bound, but I do love a tasty hero. I would love to hear from all of you. Please leave a comment about what traits you like in a protagonist either physical or emotional. Give specific examples if you can. One lucky commenter will receive a $10 US Amazon gift card. Just send me an email (make sure it’s the same email you want the gift card sent to) to mk @ mkschillerauthor dot com with a copy of your comments and link. I’ll enter you in the drawing to take place on July 13. Please note I won’t keep your email addresses unless you specifically ask to be on my email distribution list.

Also, please consider picking up a copy of The Other C-Word, my debut novel and let me know if you think my hero is a recipe worth passing around.

The Other C-Word will be available from Total-E-Bound on July 26^th and all other sites in late August.

Blurb

Can she overcome her consuming desire for him? Can he make her comfortable with the other C-word…commitment?

Marley Mason is dreading the arrival of the new business consultant. After all, this man will most likely outsource her job to China. The last thing she would expect is a case of mistaken identity, leading to false accusations of kidnapping when she attempts to pick up the wrong man at the airport, or worse…that she would have such a visceral reaction to the right man.

Rick Randy is super sexy, scandalously flirty and perfect masturbation material, but a relationship is out of the question. Rick is contracted on a temporary basis to fix Marley’s ailing company, and then pull out, although as he expresses to Marley, pulling out is difficult for him, in more ways than one! Marley’s feelings range from utter confusion to intense contemplation as Rick charms his way into her life. All of those C-words Marley can control, but it’s the other C-word she fears—commitment.

Bio

MK Schiller is a hopeless romantic in a hopelessly pragmatic world. Every evening, she sits by the warm glow of her computer monitor, and conjures up handsome heart-warming heroes and the vivacious heroines they love. Although she loves to write, she is a reader first and enjoys nothing more than curling up with a good book and some tasty Italian (the food, of course!).

How Did I Overcome my Misconceptions About Erotic Romance? By Writing It, Of Course

By Amanda Bretz (Guest Blogger)

When I set out to write my first erotic romance I didn’t start writing it because I had a burning desire to tell this one particular story, as had been the case with other things I’d written. It was more about testing myself as a writer and seeing if I could actually craft something super steamy.

As a reader I had to slowly come around to the idea that erotic romance was a legitimate genre. I had several misconceptions before I’d ever read a single word. I thought I wouldn’t like it. I thought it was synonymous with pornography. I thought it would be heavy on cheesy dialog, oversexed characters and poor writing.

Boy was I wrong.

And all it took was one good writer to prove it to me. In early 2012 I read Educating Aphrodite by Kimberly Killion and I was intrigued. It wasn’t porn. The story was well-crafted and well-written. It was sexy and steamy, but it wasn’t gratuitous. After dipping my toe in the erotic romance waters so to speak, I read several other short erotic romances before making the commitment to read an entire book. By the time I reached Bared to You by Sylvia Day I’d found a new favorite genre.

Reading those novels made me think about the romances I’d written, contemporary romances with one or two fairly tame sex scenes. Prior to writing an erotic story, I chose to focus more on the sexual tension between my characters and I didn’t go into a lot of explicit detail in the novels I’d written. After reading some erotic stories, I wondered if including more sex in my own writing could create a more realistic bond between the hero/heroine. I tried that theory out when I started writing the love scenes in my third novel. In that book, I decided to give the sexier and more frequent love scene thing a try.

My third novel is by no means an erotic romance, but I think just as reading intelligent, well-crafted erotic romance helped me be more receptive to the genre as a reader, exploring the sexier side of my writing and my characters in one book helped lead me to create an erotic story. Feeling lucky, or ballsy-I’m not really sure which-I decided I could do this. I could write erotic romance. Or at least, I hoped I could.

I admit, when I sat down in front of my laptop and set out to write erotic romance, it wasn’t easy in the beginning. My bravery faltered slightly. At first I was a bit timid with the language. I knew from reading other books in the genre that I was expected to write about the sexual acts and body parts in frank terms. That was honestly the biggest hurdle. Once I got comfortable using the accepted lingo everything else seemed to flow rather easily from there and it felt like I’d been writing erotic romance for years. Now that I’ve written one erotic romance, I think the genre will be something that I’ll be reading and writing for quite a while.

Having said that, I am very pleased with my first venture into erotic romance, which is also my newest release called Tropical Heat, published by Total-E-Bound. The story holds a special place with me for many reasons, not the least of which is that it is set in a part of Jamaica I visited on my honeymoon. Not only is Tropical Heat my first plunge into the erotic romance genre, but the story is also the first title to ever be released by a publisher rather than self-published like my three previous books. Here’s a bit more about the story.

Blurb

They have one night together to explore their passion, fulfill their needs and quench their desires, but will one night be enough?

Rayne Willows is an artist from the Pacific Northwest looking to shake up her boring life. A trip to Jamaica sounds like the perfect way to let loose and rekindle her passion for photography. When she meets local man Marcus Greene on the beach in Ocho Rios, sparks immediately fly. Marcus offers to show Rayne around his beautiful hometown, but during the sightseeing tour, the two quickly realize the passion they have for each other can’t be held back. They decide to make their one night together a sexy experience neither of them is likely to forget.

Excerpt

Surrounded by the cobalt ocean and the lush green hills, I couldn’t help but feel inspired. Jamaica was all that I’d thought it would be—and more. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensations. The catamaran I was on swung and swayed to a rhythm that only it knew.

The sun burned on the breathtaking horizon. Thanks to the powerful early-morning light, the sea glittered clear to the bottom of the cerulean depths. I turned my head when briefly the calypso music stopped and the captain announced in his lilting island accent that we’d almost reached our destination.

Ocho Rios. We were almost there. As an artist I had spent the last ten years dreaming about visiting here, all of Jamaica, actually. Seeing the popular tourist destination of Ocho Rios had always been one of my deepest desires. The town was home to so much beauty.

The boat was en route to Dunn’s River Falls, and I couldn’t wait to experience the rush of the water, the absolute freedom of being one with the land as I explored the natural wonder. When I stepped off the boat dock and touched down in the soft sand, a hundred possible paintings flashed in my mind. The landscape that was set before me became my canvas. The beach at sunset with hues of tangerine, scarlet, turquoise and lavender. The beach at dawn when the sun kissed the shore good morning. The beach on a rainy day, with the turbulent churning of a navy blue sea against an angry, dark sky.

When I stepped a little closer to the falls, my heart pounded. The rushing water was so loud, I could barely hear my own thoughts. I stopped to stare at the unique rock formation. Nestled in the cliff just off the beach were the falls. The water cascaded down through large boulders, which resembled a jagged staircase.

Taking a step forward reverently, somewhat timidly, I dipped my head under the spray that emptied out into the sea and pulled back instantly. Despite the tropical weather, the spring-fed water coming from the falls was frigid. I paused to look around, wondering if everyone else on the beach was as shocked by the chilly waters as I was. Groups of American tourists shrieked and splashed around on the beach, while running back and forth between the waters of the deep blue Caribbean Sea and the crisp clear water from the falls.

The scene made me smile. I brought my camera’s viewfinder to my eye and began to snap pictures of the idyllic landscape.

I nearly gasped in surprise when I saw a shirtless bronzed Adonis jogging towards me. Even though it was an invasion of his privacy, I used the powerful zoom feature on my camera to get a better shot. I zoomed in further, closing in on his washboard abs. I swallowed hard. I’d heard of a six-pack, but the sexy hunk was sporting an eight-pack.

When he got closer, I twisted the lens and readjusted the zoom to focus in on his face. I clicked off a half-dozen shots in rapid succession as he ran towards me. His features were so stunning I knew he had to be some type of celebrity in Jamaica on vacation. Those eyes—they were the colour of warm caramel, and as he approached me, I could have sworn he was looking deeply into my own. God, he was gorgeous. I snapped one more picture of him as he jogged past me and it was all I could do not to follow him with my camera.

Want to know what happens next? Here’s where to buy Tropical Heat: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=2165

About Amanda

Amanda Bretz is the contemporary romance author of Finding Justus, Love in Greener Pastures,  Love,Simplified and Tropical Heat. She holds a degree in communication from Florida Gulf Coast University in Fort Myers, Florida and has written for both print and online media. When not writing, Amanda can be found whipping up something delectable in her kitchen, spending time in nature or getting lost in a good book. Amanda works as a freelance journalist and is writing her fourth novel, set in historic Saint Charles, Missouri, which is where she resides with her husband, Brandon.

How to reach Amanda online

Website: http://www.amandabretz.com/

Blog: http://authoramandabretz.wordpress.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authoramandabretz

Twitter:@realamandabretz https://twitter.com/realamandabretz

 

Want to win a Kindle packed with fifty books?

Greetings, readers!

Total-E-Bound is doing a marketing survey to find out what you want.

It takes ten to fifteen minutes to complete (and it's quite fun - or at least I enjoyed it!)  Everyone who completes the survey has the option of providing an email and being entered into a drawing for a brand new Kindle, packed with fifty books from Total-E-Bound.

Interested? Go to:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/s/MXR6ZCW

Furthermore, to sweeten the pot - if you fill out the survey and then come here and leave a comment telling me you did so, I'll enter you in a drawing for a copy of my most recent TEB release, Mastering Maya.  I'll draw the winner on Friday. Be sure to tell me when you filled out the survey (date and time), and include an email address in your comment.

We want to hear from you!

Today only! 25% discount on BDSM!

Greetings!

Today only, November 30th, Total-E-Bound is offering a special 25% discount on all BDSM-themed ebooks.

That means that you can pick up my books Raw Silk, Mastering Maya, The Understudy, Getaway Girl and Crossed Hearts - cheap!

For all the details, visit http://www.total-e-bound.com/bttb.asp

“Coitus” of all things!

By Genevieve Bergeron (Guest Blogger)

My name is Genevieve Bergeron, I’m 24 years old, I live in Washington, D.C., and I write erotic romances.

The house I grew up in sat at the dead-end of a tree-lined cul-de-sac in Huntsville, Alabama. If there were a more boring, disconnected place, I couldn’t think of one.

Perhaps that ever-present feeling of disconnectedness is why I turned to books at such a young age. I devoured science fiction novels by the dozens, classics, historical fiction, contemporary, nonfiction myth and legend—you name it. This constant stream of mental stimulation made up for an ostensible lack thereof surrounding my childhood home.

The books turned me into one of those children. A precocious child. An insufferable brainiac.

Yet, what’s funny is that I never asked my parents any of the normal questions. Or, more precisely, the normal questions one would expect from an avid science fiction/classics/historical fiction reader. I’m sure my mother and father cursed the Gods—and often—for their luck. Instead of “Daddy, why aren’t there people living on the moon?” there would be “What’s an orgasm?”

I was about six when I asked. He replied calmly (against his better judgment), “Go look it up.” A few minutes later, I stomped back to here he read contentedly and, visibly agitated, I demanded, “What’s coitus?”

I also remember the dinner party a few years later, where I proudly explained to my aunt that my new favorite word was “salacious.” “Do you know ‘salacious’ means?” I glowed with pride. (I’ll be honest—I thought it meant “beautiful.”)

“No sweetie,” she said accommodatingly. “But let’s look it up.”

She led me over to a large, oak bookshelf, the kind that was built into the wall, and then hefted a large, red Merriam-Webster down to the floor so both of us could lean in close and look together. “Lustful. Ooohh my,” she said thoughtfully, after having flipped to the right place.

I smiled brightly, clueless as to what “lustful” meant.

Darn those dictionaries for using complicated words—at least I thought they were complicated at the time—to describe what should be down-and-dirty, insanely pleasurable, natural—often animalesque—moments.

So when I became an erotica author fifteen years later, it was no surprise. To anyone I know.

 

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, but in fact, my first “published” novella was released just two weeks ago from Total E-Bound publishers (there’s a link to read a synopsis and purchase at the end of this post).

My love for erotic words (though there’s little reference to “coitus” and “orgasming” in my books—more like “pulsing members” and “shrieks of pleasure”) is limitless, but I tend to focus on two main interests in my writing: Erotica with a high-tech twist, and hot, secretive gay romances.

My fascination with technology is a result of my background and (of course) my age. Between 2009 and 2011, I was enrolled in a graduate program at Georgetown University where I earned a Master’s degree in Strategic Communications and New Media technologies. The beauty and complexity of the digital world, to me, is tantalizing (perhaps even hotter than sex!). I decided to explore a sexual fantasy that springs, not first from physical attraction, but from a complete lack thereof. In fact, the attraction itself exists only in the imagination, at least in a digital world. Makes sense—with online dating, sometimes you’re not even sure what your date is going to look like! It was a challenge: could I write a book about texting and sexting and make it hot? And encourage people to read it? I don’t know. You tell me.

Forthcoming is another story entitled, “Sorry, Bro,” about one young man’s struggle with his sexuality and, ironically, the sexuality of his best friend. This one was especially fun to write, as many of the characters were based, very loosely, on college friends and acquaintances. It’s also set in my second hometown of New Orleans, which is the quintessential setting for any story about inner search, renewal, and passionate sex. I’ll keep you updated as the story develops.

In the meantime, I’d like to personally thank you for reading and for your interest in my work! To learn more about me and my writing, please visit my author page. My personal blog is still in the works.

xoxo,

Gen

Here’s more about Hyperpersonal/Hypersexual, my first book:

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=1755

In a world of Internet porn, sexting, texting, and digital flirting—can real sex be too good?

Juliette Bresson won't wait around for 'the man of her dreams'. That's because the heroine of Hyperpersonal/Hypersexual, knows that fantasies hardly ever manifest the way we intend.

Instead, Juliette—an energetic university instructor and savvy political consultant—imagines her men exactly how she wants them, and she forgoes real sex altogether. But eventually starved for tangible love and romantic excitement, Juliette replies to a string of anonymous yet provocative emails and instant messages she receives in response to an Internet forum post. She suddenly finds herself the recipient of a barrage of oversexed texts, salacious instant messages and requests for a face-to-face meeting. Finally, after a tantalising sexual encounter with her digital admirer, Juliette begins to think that real sex can be too good.

Now afraid of ruining her reputation, losing her job and her focus—or worse—Juliette must decide whether to give herself permission to love a lying man, a man who can fulfil her every sexual fantasy—or reject him altogether and cling to dreams that seem perfect but are really only mediocre, at best.