The Rougher Side of Romance
Huge thanks to my gal-pal, Jenn, for hosting me today and for previewing my upcoming release, On the Corner of Heartache and Hopeful—KIRA.
So what do you think the rougher side of romance means? If you answered BDSM, you’d be right.
BDSM. That’s bondage (and discipline), dominance (and submission), sadism and masochism. (Got your attention, didn’t I? <G>)
I believe it’s safe to assume that the recent rise in the popularity of this sub-genre of romance can be directly attributed to the 50 Shades of Gray phenomenon. (I, myself, have never read the books.) Please understand, though, that BDSM stories have been around for-e-ver. Much longer than the Shades series. In fact, years ago I read a submission for a national contest that had serious BDSM elements. At the time I was shocked, and more than a bit intrigued. <wink> If you’re a fan of Shades, I would strongly encourage you to check out a few BDSM authors that I have read. Delilah Devlin and Qwillia Rain.
As a writer of erotic romance, it seemed a natural transition for me to broaden my romantic horizons to include at least some aspects of BDSM into my stories. I started with MIC, the first novella in my Heartache and Hopeful series. (Available on Amazon. com. http://amzn.com/B009RE0JKG) Nothing too hot and heavy happened—other than the sex, of course! But I did have a scene where Scott fulfills Mic’s fantasy of being tied up while making love. In KIRA, I delved a bit deeper and gave my heroine a spanking fetish. I plan to go deeper still (no pun intended—really!) in my next novella, GRACE.
If I’ve learned just one thing in my research of BDSM, it’s that you cannot make any assumptions about this lifestyle or the people who live it. These folks are just as committed to their partners, love just as deeply, hurt just as badly as anyone else. Because I’m a non-participant in the lifestyle, I wanted to make damn sure my characters’ goals and motivations were believable. The last thing I wanted was insult those who live the BDSM life. Hopefully I came at least kinda close to accomplishing that objective.
So what do you think about BDSM? Does the idea titillate or repulse you? Share your thoughts for the chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card.
Also stop by my blog to read the first chapter of On the Corner of Heartache and Hopeful—KIRA. www.lyndabailey.net
Thanks again to my BFF, Jenn, for having me here today!
Kira Grant, daughter of a multi-mega millionaire, leaves her over-protective father—and her sizeable heritance—for the simple life in Tatum, NE. She’s also leaving behind her sordid urges. Or so she thought…
Hunter Rice has only one goal: clear his name of doping charges and climb back into the ring where he belongs. And if he has to “convince” some wealthy mogul’s daughter she should move back home in order to reach that goal, so be it.
Lives, like streets, can run parallel or they can cross. Sometimes those crossroads lead to heartache or they lead to hope.
EXCERPT: (Please note! This is NOT a PG13 selection. Mature audience only.)
Hunter leaned forward until he was an inch from her face. “And just what is going to happen between us?”
In answer, Kira unbelted her robe. It dropped to the floor. So did his jaw.
She did indeed have on fishnet stockings that were attached to a black garter belt. She also wore a black corset, ribbed with a shiny, purple fabric. Her breasts strained against the purple lace edging the top of the corset with each of her breathes. By the wisp of material barely concealing her mound, he doubted she wore a thong. Had to be a g-string. Though Hunter had seen Kira buck naked, this getup was damn near sexier than her being in her—altogether.
He said nothing for a long time, not that he could talk. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth and his mind was equally stuck. He just feasted on her appearance. Over and over and over again. Thoughts, explicitly carnal thoughts and lots of them, filled his head. And his dick.
Finally, his gaze meandered back to hers. Uncertainty etched her features. He almost regretted ogling her. Almost.
Hunter swallowed twice then found his voice. “Okay. You’ve got my attention.” In more ways than one as his erection pressed against his zipper. “Mind telling me what the hell is going on?”
“This is going on.” She walked to the bed and flung the blanket away from a corner.
Stepping closer to see what she’d revealed, Hunter’s gut reeled and his stiff cock hardened even further. There was a ping pong paddle and a wooden spoon, both covered with what looked to be felt cloth. They reminded him of the BDSM toys found at the back of sleazy men’s magazines. He rifled his gaze to hers. “You are not spanking me with those things.”
She picked up the spoon and whacked it against her palm. The sound reverberated at the base of his spine. “By staying, you agreed to do whatever I want, remember?” Whack. “But relax.” Whack. Whack. “These aren’t for you. They’re for me.”