Ghosts and Rise of the Dom - Ellora's Cave Release

Hello readers!

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.

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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.

HURT HER!

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.

A pretender.

An embarrassment.

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.

Scandalous - Nicole Austin

Nicole Austin, arguably one of the hottest erotica writers you'll ever read, is my guest today.  She's got a HUGE treat in store for you.  In addition to a fabulous interview, she's provided an excerpt of her latest release, Fatal Submission.  Fatal Submission is a horror erotic romance, the current IT genre in erotica.  You're going to love it.

So, without further adieu, here's Nicole...

·         Which of your books is your personal favorite and why?

Wow, that’s a tough one with 28 books published and 4 more pending release. While they are all erotic romances, they span a wide variety of sub-genres.

My first book, Passionate Realities, will always be special because it was the first contracted work and began this crazy rollercoaster ride.

My upcoming release, Fatal Submission, was by far the biggest challenge for me as an author. Writing erotic horror in no walk in the park. Having fought to conquer the story has made it the one I am most proud of.

The most fun books have been those from the multi-author series written with The Sassy Seven. Toys-4-Us, Valentino’s Delight – The Edge, Naughty Sleepover and SEALs Gone Wild. When we get together in the same room or online and start bouncing ideas around it is a truly awe-inspiring experience.

·         Tell us about your latest or upcoming vacation.

I am going to be abducted (not for the first time) to Texas by The Sassy Seven for ten glorious days at the end of the month. But then I guess it’s not a true abduction since I’m going willingly. There are a variety of plans in the works involving vodka, dungeons and strip clubs so it’s going to be one heck of a fun trip I can’t wait to embark on.

·         Describe your perfect day.

My ultimate day would be casual and relaxed with no place to be at any particular time. All my favorite people would be with me either just hanging out or doing something fun together. No looming deadlines or pressing matters requiring our focus. Blessed downtime where the electronic leashes (email, cell phones, pagers, etc.) are left behind and not permitted to intrude.

·         Your bucket list.  What have you done and what’s left to do?

Becoming a published author and the things I have experienced over the past seven years since my first book was released checked off a lot of items from my list. Currently, the #1 remaining goal is to finally get out of Florida, hopefully next year. I’ve lived here, in the same house, for the majority of my life. I’m contemplating a radical cross-country move with a friend. We haven’t nailed down a definite destination yet but will most likely land in either Colorado or Washington.

The rest of my rather lengthy list is filled with travel destinations that require a passport. Dying to get a few stamps in that sucker soon.

·         Your tip(s) to new authors.

As with anything else you have to study, learn your craft and continually strive to improve. Do not let success make you get cocky and lazy. The best writers are never satisfied with their skill and are always looking for ways to take their stories to the next level. Every once in a while take a look back at one of your older works to see just how far you’ve come then look at works you admire and push yourself to surpass them.

·         What inspires you?

The world around me. As with many writers, I am a people watcher. I’m curious about how different people will react to the same situation and often make up stories in my head about random people I encounter.

I remember going to the mall when I was around ten or eleven and super gluing a coin to the floor near a bench then waited. Some ignored it all while others would sit down on the bench and pretend to tie their shoe while making a grab for that coin. Others would walk right up to it and reach over to pick it up. When they discovered it was stuck, some actually tried to pry it from the floor. Others laughed and glanced around self-consciously to make sure no one saw them. Kids were the quickest to figure out it was a setup, while adults were more stubbornly determined to get it in their pocket.

My coworkers and their stories of things that happen in their lives provide some of the funniest scenes in my books although I have to admit, the scene in Foxy Lady when Shira puts the batteries in her adult toy incorrectly is right out my own personal experience.

Nicole's latest release is, in my opinion, the best story she's written to date.  Filled with incredible BDSM scenes, a strong romance, characters you won't soon forget, and horror that will keep you awake at night, this story has everything!

Fatal Submission by Nicole Austin

Claire Hanson is a submissive in need of a Dom. Finding one in rural Illinois in 1981 is no easy feat but her requirements are simple. Forget complicated limit lists, take charge and give her lots of hot, sweaty sex. On edge, body humming with arousal, Claire aches to have her desires sated. And ruggedly handsome Dominant Mason Burke is the man she wants. But for Mason work comes first and Claire’s tired of waiting.

Mason’s loss is Dr. Carl Skinner’s lucky break. The bonus—Carl’s a rich, drop-dead gorgeous Dom with a real dungeon in his basement. Getting what you want isn’t always a good thing and the game takes a drastic turn Claire never saw coming. According to the Dungeon Master’s victims who still haunt his torture chamber, submission has fatal consequences and she’s running out of time.

Reader Advisory: This scary tale contains graphic scenes of erotic torture and violence that may cause the reader to stay up late reading with all the lights on.

An Excerpt From: FATAL SUBMISSION
Copyright © NICOLE AUSTIN, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Claire ran a brush through her hair, grabbed the checklist and walked the few blocks. A cheery bell tinkled as she opened the door to find the ice cream parlor empty. She picked a table facing the glass shop front and waited.

Did Mason do this to her on purpose? She always seemed to be waiting on him. She understood his business was relatively new and required long hours. Still, constantly waiting grew old fast.

When his Bronco pulled up outside she glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes late. He strolled toward her table, calm and in control.

“Hello, Claire.” No apology. Mason simply nodded toward the refrigerated cases. “Did you pick a flavor?”

“Not yet.” Hearing the irritation in her voice, she made an effort to lighten her tone. “I was waiting for you.”

He held out a hand to help her up and didn’t let go as they perused the offerings. Once they each had a cone they sat on a bench outside. Mason looked over the checklist without comment then locked it in his car.

“It’s a nice day. How about a walk?”

She nodded and they took a leisurely stroll, stopping every so often to window shop. As usual, Mason was in no hurry, their conversation casual.

“Why did you become a property appraiser? What drew you to the business?”

“I used to be a real estate agent, which was an okay job but I’m not a good salesperson. I do like buildings though, especially older ones.” She thought back on her childhood daydreams, how she’d stand outside a building and try to picture the interior layout.

“My friend works in a bank and complained about the excessive wait for appraisals because no one in our area did them so I checked into it.” She licked her ice cream for a moment as she remembered how everything had just clicked. “Turned out it suited me. I get to make my own hours, meet new people, use my math skills and indulge my curiosity.”

Mason nodded as if he read more into her explanation than she’d said. “And how did you discover you were a submissive?”

She didn’t even attempt to hold back a wicked grin. “Guy I was dating got invited to a munch and took me. The more I learned about BDSM the more interested I became. At first he was into it, thought it was fun. After a while he lost interest but I didn’t.” She shrugged. “We broke up and I continued to explore. Like the job, it suited me.”

Yes, there was a great deal more to it but same as with her job, getting into BDSM she’d felt the pieces click into place.

“So you’ve always been happiest when seeing to the needs of others. A true, natural submissive.”

Claire stopped in her tracks and stared at Mason for a long moment. How the hell did he do it? A bit of general small talk and he saw deeper into her heart than lifelong friends ever had. Deeper than even she had seen.

“You adapt, changing yourself to please those you love.”

He dropped that bomb so casually, as if making a general observation but getting right to the heart of the matter. And it made sense. It put several pieces of her life together. Made her take a second look at the big decisions and changes. Each and every one had been sparked by the needs of others.

At heart she was a nurturer, a caretaker. When someone she cared about needed something, Claire did whatever she could to fill the need. She’d done so her entire life and never made the connection.

“When’s the last time you did something because it pleased you?”

Good question. Racking her brain, she came up blank. She couldn’t think of one instance where something she’d done had been just for her. As she thought, Mason’s ice cream melted, a slow-moving river of chocolate rolling over his fingers.

Her first instinct was to reach out with her napkin and wipe the chocolate away for him. But what did she want? What would please her?

She’d love to taste both the ice cream and Mason.

Claire took a step closer, held his wrist with her free hand and acted without overthinking it. She moved even closer, stuck out her tongue and watched his expression from beneath her lashes as she slowly licked the chocolate from his hand.

Mason’s intense, ice-blue eyes heated, filling with lust. When she reached the top of his hand, she swirled her tongue around the ice cream, imagining it was his cock. She circled the scoop of chocolate, humming in appreciation of the flavor. His entire body tensed and she knew he pictured the same thing she did.

Glancing down, she noted the hard length of his erection outlined by the faded denim extending from his groin all the way across his right hip. Long and thick and hard.

Meeting his gaze, she blurted out what was on her mind. “It would please me to taste you, Mason. To drop to my knees, wrap my fist around your shaft and suck your cock to the back of my throat.”

He closed his eyes and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard then took several slow, measured breaths.

A naughty grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she watched him struggle to regain his composure. That little crack in his hard veneer gave her wicked ideas. She wondered how much teasing it would take to push Mason over the edge and out of control. Finding out would be fun.

Buy the book at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10289-fatal-submission.aspx
Nic's website - http://www.nicoleaustin.net/