Website: https://storywitch.com
Bio/How I Became
interested in BDSM group and the genre:
When I started
writing BDSM romance, I came into it as a Male Dom/female sub writer, because
I’m a female submissive myself. But when my second title, Holding the Cards,
hit a creative wall, I decided to flip the script and see what happened if the
hero became the submissive. The story opened up and flowed from there forward.
It opened me up as an author as well, because from then on, I let the
characters lead me. As such, I’ve had the pleasure of exploring all different
Dom/sub dynamics in my books: M/f, F/m, M/f/M, F/m/f, M/m, IR, etc. That
includes relationships dealing with disabilities, like my most recent book, In
His Arms, where my Dom hero is a paraplegic.
Those journeys
haven’t limited themselves to my three contemporary series. In 2007, I had the
opportunity to do something I’d wanted to do for a very long time; write a
vampire series where the vampire-servant bond was an extreme and intense D/s
relationship. Now I’m up to over 15 books in my Vampire Queen series. I’ve also
done two other paranormal series (mermaids/angels and witches/sorcerers) that
have a Dom/sub dynamic, though they’re a little lighter handed.
When I started
writing BDSM romance, it wasn’t even widely offered in bookstores, so having a significant
reader community at the BDSM GoodReads Group is bliss. Like a lot of authors
under deadline, I have to lurk there more often than play, but every time I
visit, I get inspired. As well as add more TBRs to my own reading list, lol.
Thanks for checking
out my work. I hope you’ll find a story to love.
Excerpt:
My current work in
process is the newest Vampire Queen series book, Vampire Guardian. It
should come out late spring 2021, but would you like a peek at it now, to get a
feel for my vampire world? Adan is vampire, Catriona is Fae, a tree nymph.
Being a gifted magic user, Adan has been called to Club Atlantis to help
magically re-structure the BDSM venue to allow non-humans to play without fear
of discovery. Catriona is a resident guest of the club’s vampire owner. Her
presence doesn’t thrill Adan, because he has no love for the Fae. But when he
sees her studying the equipment afterhours, he’s reluctantly drawn to her side
to investigate what she is doing…
*
* *
“Don’t screw with me.”
The knife blade in his tone
made her smile vanish. She pivoted back to the St. Andrew’s cross. “If my
company offends you, my lord, you can return to your studies. I will not linger
here long.”
Adan studied her rigid back,
suppressed a sigh. “Tell me what you’re trying to figure out.”
Why the hell was he testing
these waters? But he already knew the answer. Simple biology.
Dom, sub. Same room. Dungeon
equipment.
Let poor judgment reign.
Her shoulders tensed, and
she tilted her head down, chin to her shoulder, to capture him in her
peripheral vision. “How it works,” she said stiffly.
“Follow my direction, and
I’ll show you.”
As he closed the distance
between them, Catriona flipped around, so fast hyper speed got a checkbox on
her list of skills. He logged her rabbiting pulse, the way her eyes had
dilated. Flight and defense reactions. His gaze dropped to her hands.
Half-curled into fists. Fight reaction.
An interesting mix.
“I’m not going to hurt you,”
he said gruffly. “All right?”
She pressed her lips
together, gave him a short nod. He could instruct her to step up onto the
cross’s foot blocks, but he didn’t. He bent and slid an arm around her waist,
tightened that hold to lift her. Her willow lean body was surprisingly
resilient, and way too female. It set off all the straight male trigger points,
designed by the smirking, sadistic gods to respond to a woman’s proximity.
“Put your feet on the
platforms.”
When she did, he kept a
steadying hand at her waist, and gripped her wrist with the other. He lifted
it, aligning her right arm along the upper corresponding piece of the cross.
“Leave your knuckles pressed to the wood.”
She obeyed, and he released
her wrist to bring down the adjustable handle, guide her fingers beneath it.
“Grip that.”
He did the same to her other
hand, then placed his over her curled grasp. “Don’t let go of them.”
When depressed with the
thumb, a useful tab on the inside of the arms moved the handles up and down.
The Dom woodworker had been inspired by a medieval rack, only his or her
intentions had far better purpose.
Adan slid both handles up at
the same time, straightening her arms further and bringing her up on her toes.
A vampire’s enhanced senses were good for calculating reach. A Master’s
experience told him where that extra inch was, past which a sub had to strain
for him.
It elongated her body,
lifted her chest and pressed it against his torso. Her startled gaze flicked
down, then up to his face. His hands
were spread over her wrists, his fingertips resting on the base of her palms. Her
knuckles were white, and her breasts were quivering. She wasn’t calm.
Neither was he.
"The Dom straps your
wrists up like this,” he said. “Your ankles to the bottom pieces. He can choose
to keep you facing him, or turn you around, depending on what he wants to
access.”
Her breath flitted across
his mouth like the brush of a feather. "What does he do, once he restrains
me?"
"Whatever he
wants."
Her grey-green eyes became
even softer, the color of down. "What would you do to me, my lord?"
If she had left the personal
out of it, he could have maintained. But those words, “you” and “too me,” opened
the gate to what he wanted to do. He stepped back, releasing her so suddenly one
of her feet left the platform. Her hands slipped away from the handles and she
gripped the frame to steady herself.
He didn’t leave her, return
to his work as he should have. So he was able to see the flipped pages of
emotions on her face.
Surprise. Hurt.
Thoughtfulness.
She stood between the bottom
pieces of the cross, her back straight. She had her curled hands linked
together, elbows bent as she pressed knotted fingers to her abdomen.
"One moment, you look
at me with desire,” she said. “Interest. Hunger. The way you look at your scrolls
and books, but different. The next moment, what’s in your eyes becomes hatred.
So much it hurts."
"Hurts who?"
"Me. You.
Everything." The break in her voice betrayed her emotions. "It
radiates out, coats the world around you in reds and oranges until you turn
your mind from it and draw all that rage back into you again."
He stared at her. "Put
your hands and feet back where I had them."
“Why?” She set her jaw, her
fingers digging against her stomach. She was having trouble standing against
his will. Knowing why did nothing to help the situation he was sinking into
deeper by the minute.
“Because I told you to.” He
reached out, touched her chin to bring her attention from his throat up to his
face. “I still won’t hurt you.”
Her eyes widened at the
touch. He hadn’t said the words with any gentleness, but he meant them.
Slowly, she complied. Since
the handles were still where he’d moved them, she had to strain to reach them,
stretching her body up in an unconscious sexual offering, especially when she
spread her thighs to follow the bottom pieces of the cross. He was pushing
this, big time, but he didn’t stop himself.
"Red and orange are the
colors for passion as well,” he noted. “Anger and passion can get along well
enough."
He closed the distance,
bringing them almost nose to nose. She had a sweet one, small and straight,
nostrils flared with the agitation inside her. When he put his hands over her
slim wrists, he watched her lips part, heard the tiny sound in her throat. It almost
made his fangs unsheathe.
"I can hate what you
are and have you all the same,” he said, low. “Make you beg for more. You'll
cherish my hatred, what I can summon from those fires to turn your body to
flame."
She trembled. Her eyes,
filled with the colors of earth, beckoned him to tumble into their depths. Into
the heart of the earth itself, which was flame, too. A different kind of flame.
Her head turned, and she
started. It pulled him out of the turmoil of his mind and gut, and what he saw
took him off guard, too. Whatever influence he'd had on her mind and emotions
had resulted in a resurrection of the wood. The cross now had several cracks in
its veneer, tiny shoots coming forth, green leaves unfurling as they watched.
“Life doesn’t respond to hate,
my lord,” she said softly.
* * *
If you’d like to learn more about the Vampire Queen series, you can find all the books in the series here - http://storywitch.com/series-vqs. This includes buy links, excerpts, and which books can standalone, if one grabs your attention more than another. Look for Vampire Guardian late spring/early summer 2021!
