Some of you may already know how many shopping days are left until Christmas, but I'm sucking every last bit of the Halloween season that I can. I love this time of year. Besides the ability to parade around in costume, Halloween also means cooler weather, pumpkin pie (a personal favorite, though a treat I have yet to master how to bake), and loads of great ghost stories.
For as long as I can remember, I've been interested in ghosts. I started watching Ghost Hunters on the SciFi channel long before anyone had even heard of the show. I visit haunted houses, go on ghost hunt tours, and have played around with the idea of auditioning for ghost-related reality TV shows. I wish I could explain my fascination with beings from beyond the grave, but who really knows why we like the things we like? There might be one or two of you who are obsessed with the color purple, Stone Henge, or men in kilts. (I'm admitting to Stone Henge and the kilt thing - but white is my color of choice. Holla!)
So now that we are just a few weeks from Halloween, it's time to embrace the season. To do so, I invite you to read my first ever release from Ellora's Cave, Rise of the Dom. The book comes out Wednesday, October 17th.
Let me tell you a little about the story, because I get the feeling horror erotic romance might be a new genre for some of you. My book is not about how a girl falls in love with a ghost or has sex with the walking dead. Sorry. No zombies in my story.
What you will find is a hero who is a Dom and a heroine who is a submissive. Said heroine also owns a house with a cool basement that happens to have a dungeon where she and the hero can "play." But, turns out the house is haunted by an evil dead Dom. (Things starting to sound interesting yet?)
I don't want to give too much away. For the time being, let me leave you with a blurb about the story and an excerpt.
It’s 1998, and what a great year it’s been for independent yet sexually submissive, Emma Sutherland. She’s secured a great job teaching at the local university, bought a dream house in the country with its very own dungeon in the basement and found a masterful Dom who fulfills her every desire. Who could ask for more?
Chet Crosby can. Having hot, kinky sex with Emma is no longer enough. He wants to take care of her outside the dungeon and have a real relationship, which she’s not ready for. Ready or not, the horrifying and unexplainable occurrences in Emma’s home have her scared, and Chet’s more determined than ever to protect the woman he loves. Even if doing so means facing unimaginable terror.
Reader Advisory: This story contains graphic scenes of sex, bondage and horror that may haunt the reader for several days.
Rise of the Dom Excerpt
Chet placed his arm under Emma’s bent knees, then lifted her legs. When they were high enough that he could see the familiar curves of her apple bottom, he stopped. “You have disobeyed me. This is your punishment.”
He raised his hand over his shoulder and held his position. Emma didn’t need to know exactly when his palm would strike her ass. Better to prolong the suspense. Anticipation was such a decadent tool to use with a sub. As far as she knew, she would stay in this position for hours until he delivered the blow.
A sudden movement in the kitchen distracted Chet. A shiver registered on his skin as the temperature plummeted. He flicked his gaze in the direction of the stirring, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. The bright kitchen and the white table and chairs appeared untouched. Unmoved.
I know I saw something…
Out of the corner of his eye, he detected another movement. Something black. No more than four feet in height. When Chet shifted his eyes to see what the object was, there was nothing. Only clear countertops and an empty hallway leading to the living room.
Chet mentally shook his head. When was the last time he’d had his eyes checked? Three years? Five?
Realizing he still had his hand high over his head, ready to deliver Emma’s punishment, he decided it was time. His dick was hard and he wanted to feel the tight walls of her pussy coaxing him to come.
Yet a noise, quiet but growing louder, buzzed close by. He strained to identify the sound.
A fly? A bee?
He turned his head left and right, taking in every inch of the pantry and kitchen. Nothing he could see would generate such a strange hum. Not even a trapped insect trying to escape out a closed window. But the buzz was there, growing louder by the second.
He jerked back when he thought he detected mumbled words within the buzzing. A man’s voice, deep and forceful, whispered directly into his ear. At the same time a powerful mixture of anger and rage overwhelmed his senses, filling him as though he were an empty vessel.
You’re too soft.
She’s been willfully disobedient. She must be trained to obey.
Hit her hard. Hurt her. Ensure she knows you are her Master.
Chet glanced back at Emma. She gave no indication she heard anything out of the ordinary.
The woman is your slave. Your bitch. Your cunt.
Punish her. Make her writhe in pain.
Chet shook his head to rid himself of the angry voice provoking him.
NO! Chet silently shouted in his mind. I will not harm her. This is for her pleasure, not mine.
Tensing his arm, he swung down and slapped her bare ass with his hand. Though he restrained from hitting her too hard, the resulting loud smack broke the silence of the room. Chet remained unmoved as the sting of the spank traveled up his arm. The throb, heightened by the chill in the air, registered with his cock, which twitched beneath his jeans.
Despite the strike to her rear end, Emma made no further sound.
You’re no Dom, the voice admonished.
You’re a boy.
Once again the odd noise buzzed in Chet’s ear, but the intense feelings of anger and hatred melted from him. A streak of darkness on the edge of his peripheral vision pulled his gaze over his shoulder. He studied the limited view of the hallway from his place on the stairs.
Nothing was there.
He ran his fingers through his hair. Between the weird voice and the crazy tricks his eyes were playing on him, he was losing his fucking mind.
Concentrate, damn it. Don’t let Emma down. She’s depending on you to take this scene to completion.
Out of guilt or for good measure, he wasn’t sure which, he struck Emma’s ass again. She absorbed the pain, uttering not a word, moving not a muscle.
Satisfied he’d punished her sufficiently, Chet lowered his arm, allowing her legs to rest back on the steps leading down to the dungeon. He repositioned himself, then slid his hand up her thigh to remove her panties.
A crash, as though something heavy and breakable had been thrown to the floor, sounded from one of the rooms on the second floor.
Emma jerked upright and turned. Alarm filled her hazel eyes. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes.” Heart racing with a jolt of adrenaline, Chet grabbed the railing and pulled himself up. He stepped past Emma into the kitchen, fully prepared to kick ass and ask questions later if he had to. “Any idea what that was?”
“No.” She reached for her clothes. Without bothering to put on her top, she held the blouse like a flimsy shield in front of her chest while fumbling to put on her shorts. “It sounded like it came from my bedroom.”
Chet rushed to a counter and pulled a large knife from a butcher-block knife stand. The sharpened edge of the blade glinted in the last remaining rays from the setting sun. “I know how you feel about me roaming around your place outside of the dungeon, but you said you saw something in your room last night. I need to check this out.”
As he turned to leave, she stood and caught his arm. Lines of worry creased her forehead. A shadow of unease covered her expression like a dark mask. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just something that fell by accident. I probably didn’t set something on my nightstand properly and it rolled off.”
“Whatever that was couldn’t have been sitting on your nightstand. It sounded huge.” He tried to pull away from her grasp, but she tightened her grip. “What? Why don’t you want me to go upstairs?”
She frowned and shook her head. “You don’t understand. I need a place I can go that’s all my own. A private place that’s just for me.”
So you don’t have to get too close to me. That’s what you really mean.
Impatience mixed with the adrenaline already pumping into his blood and muscles. “I do understand, but your safety is more important to me than your privacy. Let me go.”
“Okay.” Emma sighed as she removed her hold. She tugged on her blouse. “But I’m going with you.”
Unwilling to waste any more time, Chet nodded and ran down the short hallway. Emma followed closely behind. After reaching the bottom of the stairs, he used his long legs to his advantage, taking two steps at a time. He stopped at the second-story landing to catch his bearings. Never having been on this floor before, he wasn’t sure which door lead to her bedroom.
“This way.” Emma edged past him, taking a sharp turn to the left.
With his free hand, Chet grabbed the back of her shorts and stopped her in her tracks. “Me first. I’m the one with the knife in my hand. Remember?”
Taking the lead, he grabbed the door handle and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He swung the door open, holding the knife high in the air, ready to strike.
Near a bank of windows a cardboard box lay on its side, its top flaps up and open. The contents of the box, mostly picture frames and knickknacks, littered the carpeted floor. The force of the fall had scattered pieces of broken glass all the way to the foot of Emma’s neatly made bed. Other boxes stood precariously stacked against the wall.
“See. No big deal. One of my boxes fell.” Emma knelt and picked up a large shard of glass.
The short hairs on the back of his neck rose as Chet entered the room and glanced around. When he saw the back wall, his blood ran cold. His grip tightened on the kitchen knife. Unable to utter a word, he tapped Emma’s back.
When she looked up, her gaze darted from his face to the wall. A full heartbeat passed before she caught her breath and let out a horrified scream.