Authors are insecure creatures. We toil away at our craft, telling stories from the heart, hoping someone out there will ‘get’ what we were trying to say, or at the very least, enjoy the story. Like nervous parents, we dress our progeny in the best we can afford and send them off into the world hoping they will be the popular kid and not the one bullied and made fun of.
It’s tough. We have to develop a thick skin, for like parents with multiple children, we find that each child is different, thus received in different ways by the reading public. Some of our precious ones are ridiculed, some are ignored. Some are praised. To be praised by other parents, our peers, is unique validation. Others who understand the processes of our brains, who know how difficult it is to craft a story that conveys the human condition and takes the reader on a journey of discovery and, ultimately in our genre, to a happy ending, have read our work and found it exceptional.
It’s a heady feeling. One that humbles and exalts at the same time.
This summer, SUSPENDED GAME received dual honors.
Many thanks to my peers in the Passionate Ink chapter of Romance Writers of America for honoring Suspended Game with the Passionate Plume Award for Best Erotic Historical Romance.
Here’s the actual, handmade gold flogger! It’s too pretty to use, but oh, how tempting it is!! LOL
Here’s an excerpt from SUSPENDED GAME.
Before she could change her mind, she went to the other window and pulled the shade low, deepening the gloom to twilight. Once she’d discarded her slip and panties, she crossed to the bed and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand. She picked up the gloves, then set the box carefully aside before pulling the covers back and lying down. It felt positively wicked to lie naked in the waning daylight.
Evelyn pulled the gloves on, then picked up the letter.
I can see you in my mind, beautiful woman. Your creamy skin is like silk, and your breasts are topped with dusky pink rosettes. Am I right, my darling? If so, touch yourself there. Draw your fingers over those peaks. Tease them with your fingertips until they stand tall and proud. If I were there, I’d take them in my mouth and worship them. I’d cup them in my palms like the precious globes they are. Can you imagine my touch, sweet girl? Does it feel good when I touch you? Do you want more?
Move your hand lower, darling. Stroke your palms over your stomach to the swell of your womanhood. God, you are so lovely. It’s hard to write this with my eyes closed, but I must see you as you are now. Do the gloves feel good on your skin? Do they add to your excitement?
Breathe deep, my lovely. Can you smell your arousal as I can?
Evelyn inhaled, filling her lungs. Indeed, the musk of her arousal hung heavy in the air. She let the breath out on a groan.
I wish I had something of yours, a handkerchief or a pair of panties, to carry with me. Maybe it is best that I do not. I don’t think I could bear to breathe you in and not touch you. That’s why I held your hand the other night. I had to feel your skin against mine, darling. It was as necessary to me as breathing air.
Did you feel the same way? I think you did. You could have pulled your hand away, but you did not. Could you feel my need as I could feel yours?
Move your hand lower, dear girl. You must be aching for release by now. If I were there, your waiting would be over, but since I am not, you will need to ease the pain yourself. Do not be shy. There is no one but you and I here, and I want there to be no secrets between us.
Find your clitoris, Evelyn. That little nub of desire needs your attention. Rub it lightly. Doesn’t the leather feel wonderful, as if someone else’s hand is there between your legs? Can you see me there, sweet woman, my body alongside yours, my hand cupping your mound of Venus?
You need more, don’t you, darling? I’m going to give you everything you need. Open your legs wider. Let your middle finger find the wellspring of your honey. That’s it, sweet girl. Dip your finger inside for me. Flex your wrist so the heel of your hand is flat against your clitoris.
Ah, yes, that feels so good, doesn’t it, sweet thing? Rock your hand. Do you see me, Evelyn? Am I there with you, giving you pleasure? You are near to coming, I can feel your body tensing, preparing to fly. Work your finger in and out. Faster. Harder. So near to the edge you can taste the air of freedom. Just one more thing, and I’ll let you come, my darling. Arch your back, baby. Show me your beautiful breasts.
Yes, that’s the way. Thank you, darling. You are so perfect. I knew you would be. Force that finger deep and hard. Yes! Come for me, sweet Evelyn. Let go. I’m there to catch you.