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About the author:
Hmm, What can I say about me that would matter to you? In the basest of terms, I'm a writer, a reader, a bullshitter and an avid porn connoisseur. Not usually in that order, unfortunately. Internet porn is straight up candy, after all, and so highly addictive.
So what gets me going? What makes my clock tick, my pendulum swing, my muse to… continue… musing? If you're reading this, probably the same things as you. I like to delve into the seamy underbelly of romance and erotica. You can get vanilla anywhere, my stories come in all flavors. They go to places where we all go from time to time but never admit to going. I like to build worlds and situations for the characters in my head who want to be worshipped, adorned, obeyed and at times also owned and subjugated for our pleasure? Sometimes it isn't for the faint of heart. In my first published work I wrote this of my lead character:
"He felt humiliated and also strangely exhilarated. He was unfamiliar with that particular combination of emotions. The feelings coursing through him made no sense, they were at odds with themselves. He didn’t understand what he was feeling, not then anyway."
So, if you read the words that drop out of my head from time to time – most likely from some dark corner – and you wonder what the actual 'F' is wrong with you… The answer is nothing. Nothing at all. Carry on naughty reader, carry on indeed!
What inspired you to write your book?
Writing what you are interested in makes for the best books and the easiest to write. I've been interested and researching this particular niche for many years.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“Yessss!” she moaned, instinctively spreading her legs wide, offering him unfettered access to her most intimate of places. He explored deeper with one finger then another. Her arousal coated them welcomed them inside. With a sharp intake of breath, she clenched her eyes tight pushed up to meet him and ran her hands along his head.
His tongue danced against her – skilled and talented as his feet had been earlier – it led a waltz that brought her to the edge then pushed her over it. Her toes clenched back arched and the warm pulse of orgasm flitted across her as she threw back her head and came. She made sharp guttural wailing sounds that ebbed and waned with the feelings rushing throughout her. She panted and attempted to recover, eyes watering cheeks burning. But he wouldn’t allow recovery, not yet. With tight puckering lips he sucked her clit into his mouth flicking it with his tongue as he made a curling ‘come here’ gesture inside of her. He found the spot and massaged it vigorously as she bucked and pressed against him soaking his hand and the sheets underneath in the process.
Kissing her a last time on her most overly sensitive spot. He moved up over her smiling down. Claire felt drunk. It wasn’t the alcohol, that feeling was gone now, it had been replaced with the euphoria of two of the most spectacular orgasms she’d experienced in years. Maybe ever, she thought.