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About the author:
A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. A shamelessly proud basketball mom, Normandie lives on a farm with a passel of kids, an adorable husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull.
What inspired you to write your book?
I’ve always been interested in the practice of a Dom sharing his submissive, so in this book I decided to explore the psychological aspects of this practice. It’s definitely emotionally provocative!
Here is a short sample from the book:
As I lay there, legs spread wide for him, panting with desire, I remembered why I agreed to the plethora of embarrassing, humiliating predicaments he put me in—because he knew how to take me to heights of bliss I’d never experienced before. As strange as it was, I could trust him to put my needs and my happiness at the top of his priority list, and I knew he would always do right by me.
“I’ve got something new for us to play with tonight. A gift actually.” He stood over me, shirtless, and I tried to focus on his words rather than the ripples of his torso.
Lying on my back, wrists and ankles bound with my legs in the air, it felt incredibly naughty to be receiving a present in such a vulnerable and aroused state. “What is it?”
“I’ll go get it.” He left the room for a minute. When he returned he carried what looked like a jeweler’s box. It was long and skinny—the kind used to house necklaces.
A white bow topped the package, and he held it under my nose for me to inspect.
An awkward laugh bubbled up from my throat. “I can’t really open it.”
His intense, dark eyes pierced mine. “Use your teeth.”
He brought the gift so close to my lips it was almost touching, and I bobbed my head forward, taking a piece of the white grosgrain ribbon between my teeth. I yanked my head back, loosening the wrapping.
“Good girl,” he said with a wink. “I’ll get the rest of it for you.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
He ripped the paper off, tossing it to the floor. Then he opened the sapphire-blue velvet case that had been underneath.
A bright, dark-silver strand of pearls gleamed up from the cream-colored satin they nested against.
He smirked. “I knew you’d already have some white ones.”
I nodded. “I do. But these are beautiful, Quentin. What are they, black pearls or some other kind?”
“You’re right. They’re the black ones. But it’s not as much what they are as what I’m going to do to you with them.”