When I started doing these Snippet Sun days, I thought I should have some system where I keep track of how many times I feature each book. Of course that ended up being far too left-brained and organized for me and I haven’t done it, but I did have a sense that I hadn’t featured Club Mephisto yet, and I was right!

Poor Club Mephisto, always lurking on the margins of my body of work. When I wrote it I had a sense that it wouldn’t appeal to a significant part of my audience, and that many people wouldn’t like the characters or the ending. I still had this story inside me and I wanted to put it down, so I have no regrets. I’m also so appreciative of every one of my readers who gave it a try (even if it ended up not being their cup of tea.) I did have readers who liked it better after they read the mirror work, Molly’s Lips: Club Mephisto Retold, and heard the story from Mephisto’s point of view.

It’s hard to actually find a passage from CM that isn’t too obscene to post here, but I do like the scenes where Mephisto questions Molly, trying to figure her out. Because, of course, Molly is so stringently self-effacing.

     “For his pleasure. When it pleases him. You know the lines well. Now answer my question. How often does he take you out?”

     Molly thought a moment. “At certain times, like at the holidays, we attend more parties and events than other times. But I would say on average he takes me out three to four times a month. Perhaps four or five times a year, I help entertain guests in our home.”

     “Vanilla guests?”

     “Yes, Master. Work parties and dinners.”

     “I bet you’re amazing at that sort of thing. Hostessing.”

     “I try to pleas—”

     “Please your Master. Yes. Thanks for the recap. Besides pleasing him, what do you do with your time?”

     Molly swallowed, reaching back to touch the counter, feeling unbalanced by his persistent questioning. Somehow it seemed easier to take a deep, pounding assfucking than to endure this probing interview. “I… Well, I read.”

     “What do you read?”

     “Erotica. Current events. History books. Whatever Master feels will improve me.”

     “Do you watch television? Go online?”

     “No. Not without his supervision.”

     “What else do you do, besides read?”

     “I exercise. Master has a gym and a pool. Sometimes I help Mrs. Jernigan with housework. But I’m not allowed in the kitchen.”

     “Why not?”

     “I don’t know. My Master’s rules. He controls what I eat.”

     He thought about that a long moment. “Controlling can be fun. And you enjoy this control?”

     “Oh, yes, Master. I’m so thankful for it.”

     “What if he grows tired of all the work of controlling you?”

     She drew in a soft breath, and swallowed hard. He stared at her, his cruel question lingering in the air between them like some noxious thing.

The question is, can someone as self-effacing as Molly work as a romance heroine? The answer is no, which is why I marketed this book as erotica, rather than romance, but there is something very pure about Molly’s deep slavery all the same. If nothing else, it gives you something to think about. If you’re curious about the Mephisto books, you can click below for the blurbs and links of each book. Remember, Molly’s Lips is free at Smashwords!

This was a really great week as far as inspiration. I finished the first draft of Disciplining the Duchess, my upcoming Regency-era spanking story, and I also got cracking on a couple new story ideas. One’s going to be a sequel to Cirque du Minuit and the other…well, it’s still too soon to know if anything’s going to come of it but at the moment it’s a bodyguard-type story starring one of Kyle’s brothers. Bodyguard romances drive me wild, or really any romance with a protective male in it. It’s not about setting back the women’s lib movement, just about celebrating the wonderful, protective impulses that exist in heroic men. So wish me luck that I will get all these stories scraped together and formed into something coherent that I can share with all of you in the coming year.

But in the meantime, I’m thankful to have completed the initial draft of my Domestic Discipline/spanking story Disciplining the Duchess. Domestic Discipline (usually abbreviated as DD) is a couples-based kink which falls under the BDSM umbrella, but it’s also it’s own particular thing. Emphasis on particular. It’s not for everyone, since one partner–often the female–has to submit herself to her partner’s authority, but as a hot little horny fantasy it’s kind of cool. If you are curious, you can google Domestic Discipline or Loving Domestic Discipline (LDD) and learn about the thriving community of DD practitioners.

Anyway, in honor of finishing my first draft, I thought I’d share a little snippet. Miss Barrett has just done something typically gauche at a house party dance, and the Duke of Courtland steps in to rescue her from her annoyed brother. (Ah, the heroic male!)

     Court wondered what had come over him.

     Well, any polite guest owed it to the hostess to participate at least marginally in the entertainments. Or become one, if circumstances called for it. He wasn’t about to let Barrett drag off his sister before the whole group. The unfortunate young miss gawked at him now, not exactly the picture of feminine manners. An offer of her hand would have been the appropriate way to proceed, but her brother still had her by the arm. Court glared at him so fiercely he released her and took a step back.

     “Your Grace, I am d–deeply honored to introduce my sister, Miss Harmony Barrett.”

     Court nearly lost his composure over her name. Harmony? “Chaos” would have been more fitting. “Miss Barrett,” he said, taking her now-proffered hand and raising it to his lips. “The honor is mine. Would you care to dance the next set?” He looked back at the massing couples, all of whom were staring at them. “It begins shortly.”

     Her pale blue eyes widened as her fingertips fluttered in his grasp. “Dance it…with you?”

     He looked around. “Who else, madam?”

     She closed and opened her mouth again. “I– I–“

     If she refused him it would be hilarious. It would be talked about in drawing rooms and ballrooms for years. He held her gaze, willing her to do as she wished, to refuse him if she wanted to. Blue, so very blue. Her eyes were a pale, clear blue and her features so astonishingly pretty up close.

     “If you wish, Your Grace,” she finally managed, nodding her head and bobbing an awkward curtsy. He held her hand tighter and led her to the center of the room as her gaping brother looked on.

The rest of the scene is really sweet and funny, but you’ll have to wait. 🙂 I’m going to get to work , and hopefully have this ready for release during the first few months of next year. I hope you’ll love Harmony and her unflappable duke as much as I do.

In the meantime, don’t forget that Command Performance, the fourth book in the Comfort Series, is newly released! If you haven’t picked up your copy yet, click the cover below for the blurb and buy links!

I started on another dance manuscript/story idea. You guys know I love ballet…

I’m not certain the other story will see the light of day as it is now but while my mind is on dance and romance I wanted to share an older snippet from my book Firebird.

One thing that has always fascinated me about ballet is the relationship between ballet partners. In real life history, there have been many mercurial partnerships (like Baryshnikov/Kirkland and Martens/Farrell). In Firebird, of course, Prosper has Blake, who is NOT the hero of the book (that would be Jackson, the choreographer) but Blake still plays a big part in the story.

I like this scene where they rehearse together for the first time and you’re just like…oh lordy. This is going to be a mess.

     “No,” said Jackson as they began the steps. “You’re supposed to be trapping her. Hold her. Grasp her. You can’t let her get away. Prince Ivan traps the Firebird against her will. And you—” He pointed to Prosper. “I need to see fear in your eyes. This sequence is going to be very dark and sexual. Attraction, capture, desire.”

     Prosper flushed hot at his words, but Blake shook his head.

     “Desire? Attraction? But she’s a bird.”

     “She’s not just a bird. It’s not that simple. She’s a wild, exotic, mysterious creature you’re drawn to. Forget that she’s a bird—think of her as an impulse. A fantasy. Plenty of years to settle down with your prim Tsarina. You have this one chance in the dark garden with the Firebird. It has to be good enough to convince her to return later and save your life. Yes?”

     Prosper stood with her hands behind her back, staring off. Wild, exotic? Mysterious? She had been miscast. She read it in Blake’s eyes as they swept over her, in the derisive tilt of his lip.

     “Again,” Jackson snapped.

I suppose it’s probably not a spoiler to reassure everyone that Blake turns out to be a good guy. 😉

Here’s a really beautiful example of partnering that I’ve posted on here before, for your viewing pleasure, and below I’ll post the cover link if you’d like to pick up a copy of my book Firebird!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oy74aAFhB6o]

This weekend I’m deep in the woods! I’m enjoying a little retreat of solitude with my family thanks to Blue Ridge Cabin Rentals of Helen, Georgia, and I thought, wouldn’t it be appropriate to feature Deep in the Woods this week?

One of my favorite scenes in the book is when Sophie, her boyfriend Dave, and Dave’s best friend Ryan go out to the woods for camping…and other lustful pursuits. This scene was inspired by an online friend who pointed out how exciting sex was if you were chased and captured first. (Yes, I have weird friends. I love them all.) And of course, Dave and Ryan don’t let Sophie in on their chase-and-capture plans until the moment it’s about to happen…

Kinky camping. It’s the bomb.

     Sophie licked the last of the chocolate from her hands, watching the two men from across the campfire with suspicion. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

     “We’re not,” said Dave. “Did you enjoy the s’mores?”

     Sophie had actually enjoyed the camping experience more than she’d thought. She had thrown herself into the spirit of it, helping the guys clear the campsite, pitch a tent, and build a fire from scratch, even lighting it with a flint instead of matches. Of course Ryan would insist on that.

     The weather was perfect too, not too warm or too cold. It was unseasonably pleasant for early January and Sophie felt fine in her jeans and hoodie. The woods were quiet and peaceful as night fell.

     But those looks…

     “You have some chocolate right here, Soph,” said Dave, pointing to one side of his mouth. “Come here, I’ll lick it off.”

     Sophie stood up and walked to Dave with a smile. He took her in his arms and licked off the chocolate before proceeding to lick her entire face. Sophie squealed and pushed him away. “Stop, you crazy man!”

     “He’s putting his scent on you,” Ryan said with a grin.

     “You’re weird, Ryan, you know that?” Sophie laughed, but Ryan ignored her, suddenly busy typing away on his phone. Dave looked over at him.

     “Almost dark enough, do you think?”

     “Almost,” replied Ryan, not looking up.

     “Almost dark enough for what?”

     Dave looked at Sophie. “We’re going to play a little game tonight, baby. It’s called ‘Chase Sophie Through The Woods.’”

     “Really?” Sophie suppressed a little shiver as Ryan looked up to gauge her reaction. “And what are the rules of this game?”

     “The rules are, you get a ten-minute head start, and then we come find you. First one to catch you gets to fuck you then and there.”

     “In the woods?”

     “Right on the ground, in the woods. In the darkness.”

     Sophie looked up at the sky. It was a new moon. There was no light at all aside from the campfire. “But…how will I see? How will I find my way?”

     “It’s actually more fun for us if you flounder around like a lost lamb. Oh, and you’ll wear these so you don’t hear us coming when we do catch you.”

     He reached in his pocket and produced a pair of wax earplugs. Now Sophie’s shivering began in earnest. The idea of this “game” both terrified and excited her. What would it feel like to wander lost? Hunted? Knowing the outcome of being found? Hmmm…

There are both terrifying and sweet moments in Deep in the Woods. If you haven’t read it  yet–or its sequel, Fortune, featuring Ryan as the hero–you can click the book covers below to read blurbs and find buy links.

Fortune series:

Before we get to the circus yumminess, I would like to thank everyone with all my heart for your support of my new release, Command Performance, and my Comfort series in general. Your kind words, encouragement and reviews have helped me feel a real sense of accomplishment and happiness. I could not have asked for a better release day. At one point all four of the books were in Amazon’s top 100 Erotica list. Those are the types of days authors live for, believe me.

Don’t forget that Comfort Object will remain on sale until Nov. 13 as part of the Wicked Nights sale, along with several other great BDSM erotic books. Click this link to be taken to a page with more info on the Wicked Nights sale.

Now on to this week’s Snippet Sunday book! You know, I had the worst time naming Cirque du Minuit. I polled several French friends from a variety of French-speaking countries about whether it should be “de” or “du” Minuit, and got mixed opinions. I decided on the “du” simply because it was similar to Cirque du Soleil, one of my favorite real life circuses. (I’m going to see one of their shows, TOTEM, tomorrow!) Anyway, I do apologize to any readers who are annoyed by the “du”. I think the next book in the series will be called Cirque Brillante, which will preclude the need for any “de” or “du” or “de la”s. I do adore the French language…just wish I could speak it better, lol.

ANYWAY, I will admit that one of my favorite parts about Cirque du Minuit is how “rough around the edges” Theo Zamora is. I based him on a coach who used to work at the gym where my girls took tumbling lessons. He wasn’t exactly handsome and lord knows he wasn’t at all nice, but there was something about him that made you wonder what was under all that gruffness and bluster. He had a great accent…no one ever figured out where he was from. I secretly believed he was from a gypsy circus family. Here’s a snippet from one of the early scenes between him and Kelsey, when he was still in full mysterious and obnoxious Gypsy King mode.

     The door fell away from the flat of her palm and she stumbled into him with his name still on her lips. He caught her before she fell, and released her just as quickly, like it burned to touch her.

     “You again,” he said with disgust.

     Kelsey forged ahead before he shoved her out and slammed the door on her. “Where were you?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

     “Why are you here? Do you know what time it is?”

     “I’m here about her. Minya. Remember her? The memorial service was today. Why weren’t you there?”

     He stood tall, shoulders back, bare-chested, sweatpants riding far too low on his hips. He was as imposing as ever and not a bit ashamed. “I didn’t want to come.”

     “Why not?”

     “She wasn’t my family. Not even a friend. Just a partner.” He stared somewhere over her shoulder. “A slut for sex, when I wanted it. She was nothing to me.”

     “You’re a liar.”

     “Believe what you want to believe.”

     “So you didn’t care about her at all? And yet you’re holed up here, drunk and miserable, rolling around in your own filth?”

     “I showered a few hours ago!”

     Kelsey threw a look around his ransacked living room. “So you always live like this?”

     He sauntered over to his end table to pick up a cigarette. He slid her a look as he lit it behind a cupped hand, and then turned and blew the smoke in her direction.

     “Nice,” she hissed, waving the offending cloud away. “Smoking’s bad for you.”

     “So is trapeze,” he said drily. “If all you wanted to do was come over and yell because I didn’t come to Minya’s service tonight, okay. You’ve done this. You can go now. Go.” He made shooing motions at her. When she didn’t move, he dragged in another deep pull on his cigarette and regarded her through half-lowered lids. “Or maybe you’re here for some other reason. You’re horny? You like rough sex? I’m in the market for a new toy to play with.”

I almost hated to cut off there because it gets so hot by the end of this scene. Definitely one of the faves I’ve ever written. Phew…Theo does something to me, kind of like that coach back at the gym years ago. This is also one of those books with the experienced hero/innocent heroine type tropes (Command Performance and Cait and the Devil were others.) If you haven’t read Cirque du Minuit yet, you can find a blurb and buy links by clicking the book cover below.

Whheeee! Less than two weeks until Mason’s story, Command Performance, is released. I’m so excited about this because it’s the final book in the Comfort series (along with Comfort Object, Caressa’s Knees, and Odalisque) and Mason is such a sweet, wonderful guy. (Well, mostly.)

Today I’m sharing a little snippet that shows his sweeter side. Honestly he made me laugh a lot in this book, but it has its serious moments too. In this snippet, he’s picking her up at her dad’s house for their very first date–a trip to the Golden Globes.

     Oh, that smile. How could he be the sexually deviant monster of those stories with a smile like that? His handsome charm was so Hollywood, so blinding, she almost didn’t notice the large bouquet of flowers in his hand. He waved it sheepishly, then looked at her dad and back at her.

     “Hi, Miri. Ready to go to the prom?”

     She burst out laughing and then cringed as the full body girdle of torture dug into her ribs. She crossed and took the flowers, a riotous tissue-wrapped arrangement of roses, lilies, daisies, and carnations. “Wow.” It was all she could come up with. “Wow.” He was so tall, so overpowering there in their living room-slash-foyer.

     “Wow is right,” Mason said. “You look amazing.” He glanced at his watch and then at her dad again. “I’d love to stay and chat, but we’re running late. Maybe your dad can put those in a vase with some water?” He took the flowers from her and shoved them at her father. Miri thought she saw a vein pulse in the older man’s forehead, just next to one of his more impressive scars. Before her dad could open his mouth to reply, Mason reached for her elbow, guiding her to the door.

     “You have your clutch? Damn, but those diamonds look lovely.”

     And somehow he had her out the door and down the walk before her father could do much more than call out goodbye. He frowned from the porch as the limo pulled away from their sad brown stretch of lawn.

     Mason raised his eyebrows and gave her a woeful look. “I think your dad doesn’t like me.”

     Again, Miri burst into unreasonable—and painful—laughter. She held out an arm. “Please don’t make me laugh. I can hardly…even…breathe.”

     “I wasn’t trying to make you laugh. Literally, I sensed his hatred.”

     Something about his offhand tone, his combination of humor and hurt feelings sent her off into more breathless peals of laughter. “Stop…for real…”

     He watched her with twinkling eyes and a subtle quirk of his lips. “Don’t pass out. Or die. Although I think these limos all have defibrillators now.”

If you’re wondering why she still lives with her dad, you’ll have to read the book, but it IS L.A., y’all. Real estate is bad. 🙂

Anyway, next Sunday I’ll post one last snippet before the release on October 31, and at that time I’ll give everyone the details about an awesome flash sale on all my Comfort series books. Let’s just say if you don’t have the previous three in your library yet, I’m going to make it very affordable to correct that, at least for a day or two. If you’re active on any BDSM fiction chat groups or loops, please help me spread the word! And if you’d like to add Command Performance to your TBR pile on Goodreads, just click the book cover below for the Goodreads page and blurb.