Now I go on with one of my favorite people in the writing world. We met a few years back because we're both Excessica authors, but Willsin's also and AMAZING cover artist. You'll see him all over my books Gritty: Rough Erotic Fiction (which he's in), Wanderlust, Angry Sex and the current The Accidental Cougar. And more!
But that's not all, he's just one of the nicest people ever and a talented writer to boot. So let's wipe off all that smushiness and lurve and I'll post his blog now. Willsin is offering the Consummate Therapy Omnibus Edition (another box set! how cool) written by Willsin and Katie Salidas (remember her from yesterday?). You can feed your Nook/Kindle/iPad/device something yummy and tasty and spicy with this one.
Remember to *leave your email address in your comment so we can reach you. You can't win if you don't leave us your contact info. And remember *every comment is entered into the grand prize drawing.
Friends In Your Corner
I first “met” Sommer because we shared a publisher - Excessica. Her witty and silly posts on the now defunct Excessica blog site were awesome (and part of the reason I now call her Awesommer).
When I noticed she had a little call for submissions out, I leapt at the chance to submit to her (like pretty much any red-blooded male would...oh, wait...not like that).
Thankfully, my little story was accepted and published in an anthology called “Dirtyville”. From there, we reached out across the waves and started emailing each other directly. She was one of my first ever overseas pen-pals. We “got” each other – both in personality and in writing.
Which kinda brings me around to my point.
Friends in your corner. In any field, these are pretty darn important. But in a creative endeavour like writing, where you’re putting out little pieces of yourself to the world and saying “please like me, I’ll be your bestest friend!”, having someone else blowing your horn (*cough*) is vital.
Sommer, and indeed, yesterday’s guest Katie Salidas, are two of my greatest horn-blowers (seriously, I shoulda picked a different analogy). And it’s a mutual situation. Because I really do pick up what they’re puttin’ down, and vice versa.
When you have these amazing friends in your corner, it becomes just that little bit easier to put yourself out there. You know you have backup. A team, of sorts.
Over the years I’ve known her, Sommer has seemed to become a little bit more at ease about saying to everyone “hey, I have a book out”. But what she won’t ever feel comfortable about is to tell you is how great those books are. That’s where I come in! I can see the woman within the stories, and the stories within the woman. Every story of Sommer’s that I read makes me like her even more.
We’ve been pals for four years now. I find myself thinking sometimes...”wow, FOUR YEARS!”. Then I start thinking...”wow...ONLY four years?” Yet she’s been pumping out sensual and sexy stories for more than twice that length of time! Her level of output simply staggers me and makes me sweetly jealous.
So let’s raise our glasses (cute little rectangular ones with coloured frames if you gots ‘em) to Sommer’s ninth anniversary. I’m far richer for knowing you, lady and you may never realise quite how much you inspire me.
by Katie Salidas & Willsin Rowe
The Consummate Therapy series flips Fifty Shades on its head, with a despotic female billionaire learning the value – and art – of true submission at the hands of a hot but steely Dom. Follow Natasha’s journey as she walks a fine line between what she thinks she wants...and what her Master knows she truly needs.
With rave reviews, and a 4.6 Star average (across the series), people from all over are falling in love with Natasha and her Master.
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/consummate-therapy-katie-salidas/1114017046?ean=2940016122304
All Romance e-Books: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-consummatetherapytheseries-1028508-340.html
“If your spirit is the equal of your body...” He ran his fingers across my shoulders and down the gully of my spine. “...then it will be a rare pleasure breaking you in.”
Despite my initial apprehension, his words and his touch sent a thrill through me.
He moved from behind me and my back suddenly felt cold. I watched his muscular form as he prowled to the chair, and admired his grace as he mounted it.
“Bind her. Bring her to me.”
Chloe appeared beside me with a length of smooth rope in her hands. My instincts cried out to run, to fight, but I bit down on them. I could see where this was heading and…and I wasn’t sure I hated it.
With practiced efficiency, Chloe had my wrists secured in under a minute. She led me over to Master Sweet and handed him the loose end of rope.
“Slave, lie across my lap.”
I couldn’t help it. I hesitated. This was so new to me. He curled the rope around his wrist and pulled steadily, with a strength I couldn’t resist. With Chloe’s help he had me prone across his lap, my bare ass angled out and vulnerable. My heartbeat sped with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Even though there was something so degrading about being put over someone’s lap, there was a part of me that found it...invigorating. I wasn’t about to let him know I felt that way, though. I held my tongue and watched blankly as Chloe worked, binding me in place.
She took the rope and fed it through the eyelet at the base of the chair, leading it underneath and through a matching eyelet on the other side. She walked around and crouched behind me. From my angle I could only see her hands taking the rope, but I could sense her body heat on the backs of my thighs, feel her breath tickling across my ass…and everywhere else. I wondered if she was there to do more than just tie knots.
The rope’s firm grip around my right knee took me out of that reverie. I watched as Chloe fed the rope back through the loop and then around my left knee. I understood the chair’s construction much better now. Looped around it, with Master Sweet’s strong legs as a cushion, I had nowhere to go. Intriguingly, there was still enough slack in the rope that I could spread my knees apart.
“Look in the mirror.”
I raised my head and stared. I barely recognized myself. In the low light, my black hair almost blended with the room. I could see enough to know it was a mess, though.
He slipped his hand onto my ass and rested it there, soft, unmoving. The deceptively light touch sent chills rippling across my body.
“You’ve earned a spanking for your disobedience. You will watch as your punishment is delivered, and you will count the strokes.”
My breath hitched in my chest. Spanking. I hadn’t had one of those since I was a little girl. So demeaning, and yet the thought of it sent heat rushing between my thighs. There was a part of me that longed for it. In a world where I constantly had to think at least six to twelve months ahead, a consequence that was both immediate and tangible somehow felt like a luxury.
He raised his hand, cocked it like a gun. I followed the movement instinctively, admiring the pure power of it, knowing full well that its force was about to come crashing down on me.
“No. Look into your own eyes.”
I did as instructed. My mouth hung open as I tried to catch my breath, which had begun racing. I clenched my muscles and squeezed my thighs together, waiting for what came next.
The blow, when it landed, cracked like a pistol shot. For the slightest instant all I felt was the jolt through my body. My vision blurred with the impact. Then the sting bloomed on my ass and began to tingle. I watched my own mouth stretch, listened as my breath hissed in. I would not cry out.
“Count it!” he demanded.