Saturday, 4 January 2014
Thursday, 2 January 2014
It Isn't Easy, Being a Dominatrix!
My book, Garden of Thorns, subtitled, It Isn't Easy, Being a Dominatrix, was published on New Year's Day by Torrid Books. I'm really pleased with it.
It tells the story of Jennie, who suffered many misfortunes, but when she meets leather-clad Galatea and her strange slave, Cyan, her trials really begin. Here's a snippet:
Jennie woke: the car had stopped. She looked up into Galatea’s smile.
“We’re here.” The woman raised her arm and Jennie sat upright.
“Where?”
“Home. Where Cyan and I live. And work.”
It was a street rather like the one in which she’d been ambushed. Old, brick-built factory and warehouse units. The car had pulled into an entry and a wide door was lifting itself up in front. When it was open, the car surged forward into a dark space. The white-painted wall of the garage was lit up in the headlamps. Random items were hanging on it. Leaning in the corner was a T-shaped frame made of stout timbers. Jennie gasped.
Hanging from the ends of the T-frame were chains, terminating in metal bands.
Manacles.
Behind the car the door was silently closing.
Here's a link to the Torrid Books website:
: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=61&products_id=775&zenid=c32091252cd5dba1b2371de64451a33c
It tells the story of Jennie, who suffered many misfortunes, but when she meets leather-clad Galatea and her strange slave, Cyan, her trials really begin. Here's a snippet:
Jennie woke: the car had stopped. She looked up into Galatea’s smile.
“We’re here.” The woman raised her arm and Jennie sat upright.
“Where?”
“Home. Where Cyan and I live. And work.”
It was a street rather like the one in which she’d been ambushed. Old, brick-built factory and warehouse units. The car had pulled into an entry and a wide door was lifting itself up in front. When it was open, the car surged forward into a dark space. The white-painted wall of the garage was lit up in the headlamps. Random items were hanging on it. Leaning in the corner was a T-shaped frame made of stout timbers. Jennie gasped.
Hanging from the ends of the T-frame were chains, terminating in metal bands.
Manacles.
Behind the car the door was silently closing.
Here's a link to the Torrid Books website:
: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=61&products_id=775&zenid=c32091252cd5dba1b2371de64451a33c
Labels:
BDSM,
chains,
dominatrix,
erotic,
lesbian,
novel,
oral sex,
perspiration,
ropes,
slave
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