I was hoping to have gotten Hot, Rich and Dominant 4 out to you by now, but unfortunately a combination of ill health, my day job and a persistently noisy neighbour have kept me from getting much writing done. After several nudges by different people (and thank you, ALL of you – I feel treasured!) I thought I should make an official post explaining the delay.

At the moment, Nell is mid-funishment (fun punishment, of course) in Marc’s office, waiting impatiently for an orgasm. I know exactly what’s going to happen next, and for the entire rest of the book, and next week I’m going to be writing every day, because I will have cleared this project I’m working on.

The cover is made, the editing doesn’t take long, and it only takes an hour or so to make sure everything’s put together and uploaded. As soon as I have it done, you’ll know.

I really appreciate your patience, especially after the horrible delay between parts two and three. I promise it will NOT be anywhere near that long – no more than two weeks. In the meantime, feel free to let me know what you liked and didn’t like about the first three books – it really helps with a) my motivation and b) improving my work!

The newsletters won’t come more frequently than once a month, and I won’t pass your details on to anyone else – I promise!

Here’s the excerpt that’s in the video – warning, things are gonna get steamy in a MMF BDSM way…

“Tell me what you want to do to my girl.”

Santoro’s eyes flitted to Faye, and he hesitated, seeming conflicted. I waited him out, knowing how difficult it could be to come to terms with some of the darker desires inside.

“I want to blindfold her, cuff her and take her over my knee, and spank her until her ass is pink,” Santoro admitted finally.

Faye smiled, keeping her eyes cast down, and I nodded at Santoro. “That can be arranged. Anything else?”

“Do you have nipple clamps?” he asked after a moment.

“Answer the senior detective, little tease. Do I?”

Faye settled into her role with a light sigh, her attention focussed on Santoro, now. “Yes, Senior Detective.”

Taking his cue from me, Santoro spoke directly to her. “Do you like them?”

She bit her lip, remembering a punishment I’d given her a while back. “Most of the time, Senior Detective.”

I saw him file away her ambivalent reaction, and I relaxed a little more. She was in careful hands, if inexperienced ones.

“How would you feel about being clamped, cuffed and then fucked, girl?” he murmured, leaning in close to her ear.

Faye gave a tiny shiver, whispering, “Pretty good, Senior Detective.”

Santoro turned to me. “Sir?”

Other than a momentary tingle of possessiveness, I didn’t have a problem with that, and I nodded to him. His confidence growing, he turned back to Faye. “Okay, go grab everything you think I’m gonna need.”

Faye got up and headed over to the closet, to go through the kink supplies stored there. Santoro got to his feet, watching her, and I moved from the bed to the chair in the corner, quietly vacating the play space.

Faye returned to kneel at his feet, holding out a pair of leather detachable cuffs, a pair of nipple clamps linked by a silver chain, and one of the scarves we used as blindfolds—a purple that matched the trim on her underwear, I noted, entertained by the sight.

Santoro took the items from her, examined them one by one, and stepped back to sit on the edge of the bed, beckoning to her. “Crawl.”

It was only a couple of feet, but she did, coming to a stop between his legs and kneeling expectantly. Santoro cuffed each of her wrists in turn, fumbling the buckles a little but managing not to apologise for it. “Too tight?”

Faye shook her head and he tilted up her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I can’t hear you, girl.”

“Sorry, Senior Detective. They’re not too tight.”

He kissed her, as if comforting himself with something familiar for a moment, and Faye gave herself over to him completely, leaning forward as much as the edge of the bed would allow.

After a moment, Santoro kicked off his shoes and sat up against my headboard, positioning a pillow behind him, and beckoned to Faye. She knelt at his side and held back her hair at his command while he tied the scarf across her eyes.

With her vision obscured, he seemed to gain a little more assurance, though he had to be conscious of my gaze. I didn’t engage him in any way when he looked over at me, and he took the hint to concentrate on what he was doing.

“Safe words?”

She gave them. He nodded, comfortable with the arrangement. “Lie across my lap.”

She positioned herself there with his help, pillowing her head on her arms, and Santoro tapped her head, slipping my other pillow under it when she lifted it. He clipped her wrist cuffs together behind her back and pushed her hands up enough that they weren’t resting against her firm, recently-tattooed ass.

He took his time working her panties down her legs, then ran his fingers over the smooth skin and the loops and whorls of the oversized fingerprint tattoo on her left cheek. “Whose print is this, girl?” he asked.

Faye’s voice was a little smug—she didn’t often get to divulge this detail. “Zach’s.”

Only showing a little surprise, he looked over at me with a tiny mock salute. “Kinda gives new meaning to the words ‘on your six’…”

I smirked and, in his lap, Faye giggled. Santoro grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged, delivering a light slap to her ass with his other hand. “Think that’s funny, huh?”

She quieted, knowing better than to answer the rhetorical question, and Santoro pulled her body in tight against his stomach, preparing to spank her in earnest. “How about I show you another meaning?”

I watched him draw on his own memories of being spanked as he warmed her up, increasing the force of his slaps by degrees until she gasped and wriggled, turning her head so I could see the pain on her face. Santoro kept up a steady rhythm, never hitting the same area twice in a row, allowing the sting to build and fade. When she relaxed again, becoming half numb to the sensation, he took the cue to hit harder.

Her cries were beautiful, and from the way she arched her hips against him, I could tell she was enjoying the pleasure of submitting to him as well as the pain of the spanking. Santoro was completely absorbed in his task, caught up in her reactions, and though Faye’s body obscured my view of his lap, I didn’t doubt he was hard and longing to take her.

When Faye forgot to breathe, tensing in anticipation of each blow and screwing her eyes up tight, I knew she was close to breaking. I sat forward, my instinct telling me to halt the session, but she hadn’t given her safe word, and no matter what my protective impulse said, this wasn’t my scene to put an end to.

Damn it, I want to, though.

Just as I opened my mouth, a sharp word for Santoro on my tongue, he stopped of his own accord. Rubbing away the sting he’d inflicted, he stroked Faye’s hair and murmured words of encouragement to her.

I made myself relax as he turned her over and pulled her into a sitting position in his lap, wrapping his arms around her and pulling off the blindfold. Faye clung to him, her face turned from me, and the intimate moment between them didn’t bug me as much as I’d expected it would.

When she’d calmed a little, she raised her head from Santoro’s chest, and he kissed her provocatively, unclipping the cuffs and allowing her to put her arms around his neck. She met his hunger with her own, shifting against him in a calculated shimmy. Santoro forcefully broke off the kiss and with a voracious grin pulled back her head by the hair, looking over at me. “Starting to see why you call her ‘little tease’.”

“And you didn’t before?” Faye looked from one of us to the other as I continued as if she wasn’t even in the room. “It’s not just an act, either. If you feel between those spread legs of hers, you’ll see what I mean.”

Before Faye could correct her wanton pose by bringing her knees together, Santoro slipped his fingers down between her thighs, a soft groan escaping his throat when he encountered the slick heat I knew would be there. “Wow, she really has been getting off on this. Didn’t think this actually happened outside porn movies.”

Faye whimpered, seeming torn between humiliation at the way we were discussing her and frustration at the slow strokes of Santoro’s fingers. He pulled away, drawing a sigh from her throat, and reached for the clamps on the bedcovers beside him.

“Okay, let’s see if I can find somewhere for these.”

At his instruction, Faye slid off his lap to kneel beside him again, and he unhooked her bra without faltering—it seemed his Casanova reputation really was based in fact. When he pulled the garment away, he gave another trademark Santoro grin, then leaned in to turn his tongue to her nipples.

I could tell the exact instant he bit down—Faye gave a sharp gasp, clutching his shoulders, and a second later he slipped the first clamp into place, licking his lips.

“Too tight?”

Faye tested the sensation with a deep breath, and nodded. “A little, Senior Detective.”

He loosened the clamp, looking into her face with a concern that reassured me. “How about now?”

“Better, Senior Detective,” Faye said.

Santoro repeated the process with the second clamp, learning from the experience.          “Tighter?”

Once they were both satisfied with the clamps, Santoro stood up and we watched him shed his pants, freeing his hard cock for a second time. Faye leant back on her elbows, watching him with appreciative eyes, and I admired the picture the pair of them made.

Santoro sat between her legs, running his hands lightly over her skin. “How about you and I put on a little show for our Sir, girl?”

Faye looked over at me with a smile, as if she knew just how much I’d enjoy the idea. “I think I can live with that, Senior Detective.”

With a glance my way, Santoro delivered his final instruction. “And you don’t get to come until he says you do.”

The unexpected command intrigued us both, and I took up a better voyeuristic position, leaning against the wall by the bed.

“Think you can obey that order, little tease?”

She looked up at me through lust-veiled eyes. “I’ll try, Sir.”

Santoro slipped his fingers between her legs again, and she laid back with a soft moan, tilting her hips up in encouragement. As he cuffed her wrists to the headboard, I decided on a final change to the rules.

“As long as the senior detective’s okay with it, you have permission to speak freely.”

Santoro moved over her, giving her a brief, hard kiss. “I’m liking that idea. Talk to me, girl.”

Faye tilted her head back while he nipped at her throat, and I could tell she was savouring every second of the attention. “What do you want me to say, Senior Detective?”

“Tell me a story,” he said, and immediately Faye’s eyes met mine above his head. Her wicked smile held a question, and I gave her a slight nod just as Santoro lifted his head from her neck.

“Never thought I’d see you lost for words…”

“Sorry, Senior Detective. I was thinking.”

He gave a light tug on the chain that connected her nipple clamps, and she gasped through the pain, wriggling a little. “Think out loud,” he ordered, and I eyed him with fresh appreciation. He had my little tease well in hand.

“Okay. Once upon a time, there was an incredibly hot detective named Zach Pierce…”

Santoro glanced up at me, his hair mussed, his lips parted and a playful expression on his face. “Gotta say, I agree with you there.”

Faye giggled, and I gazed down at my senior detective, letting him see exactly how much I wanted him right then.

“Better get on with your scene, Santoro, before I decide to distract you.”

He sat up, brows rising in a challenge. “You can decide anything you want, Sir.”

It was too tempting not to take the permission he offered to step into his scene. I sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed him by the hair and kissed him roughly, possessing what was mine. He sighed into my mouth, and beneath us, Faye gave a quiet moan.

“Don’t think he told you to stop, little tease,” I told her, as soon as we broke for air.

“Sorry, Sir,” she said, a smile in her voice. “So the incredibly hot detective had a submissive.”

“Yeah?” Santoro asked, resting his head on my shoulder and trailing a finger down Faye’s thigh. “What was she like?”

“Smart. And obedient.” At my derisive snort, she revised her statement. “Sometimes.”

“This is a kinda boring story,” Santoro said. “When do we get to the sex scene?”

Faye grinned. “Well…the hot detective and his submissive had an amazing time in bed. And in his living room. And her apartment. And the bathroom at work. And—” Her words faltered into a sigh, and I looked over Santoro’s shoulder to see that he’d put his fingers into play between her legs again, gathering plenty of moisture to rub over her clit.

She took a second to collect her thoughts, then managed to continue her tale, though Santoro’s fingers didn’t let up and her words were more hesitant. “And then the hot detective and his girl noticed their friend at work was hiding cuff-marks and cringing with the pain his bruises gave him when he sat down. And they started to wonder if he’d wanna play with—”

Her train of thought derailed as she gave a cry of pleasure, and she arched her back against Santoro’s fingers, taking everything he would give her. I watched him watching her, and waited until Faye’s eyes opened before claiming his lips again, knowing she got off on seeing us together.

“With…” she tried again, with no success. “Sir, I need…”

“We both know you can take more than that, little tease,” I murmured against Santoro’s shoulder.

She bit her lip, trying not to writhe against Santoro’s fingers, and nodded. I laid a hand over his, halting him for a second, and waited for her to continue.

“They wondered if he’d wanna play with them, and they talked about it, and the submissive got so turned on that she climbed into the hot detective’s lap and rode him until she came and came and—”

Santoro pressed hard against her clit, and she moaned, arching her back then biting her lip as her nipple clamps pinched. The pain seemed to ground her a little, but there was a touch of desperation in her face as she begged me again for permission to come.

I shook my head, and she whimpered, attempting to squeeze her thighs together. “Don’t even think about it, girl,” Santoro warned her, and she stilled, breathing as deeply as she could.

After taking a moment to contemplate her naked, trembling body, he looked up at me. “Wanna help out, Sir?”

“What are you thinking?” I asked him, making sure he knew he was still in control of the scene.

He leaned over to murmur in my ear, too low for Faye to hear, and once again he surprised me with his ingenuity. “One of us finger-fucks her while the other sucks on her clit?”

I didn’t bother to keep my voice down, knowing the tidbit of information would set her imagination racing. Nodding, I told him, “I’ll need my mouth free to give her permission to come.”

Faye watched, squirming a little, while Santoro and I shifted positions. I took his place, and he sat by Faye’s side, running a hand up and down her abdomen. “Okay. Enough story, but you can beg as much as you want, girl.”

Her eyes flitted from me to Santoro and back again, and anticipation quivered through her body. She was a lucky girl that night, and she knew it.

“After you, Sir,” Santoro said, and I smoothed my hand up Faye’s inner thigh, teasing her for a few seconds before taking up where my senior detective had left off.

She was already more than ready for my fingers inside her, but I took my time, enjoying her breathy cries of frustration. When I relented at last, she eagerly tilted up her hips to force me deeper, tugging at her wrist cuffs with a gasp.

“That enough, little tease?” I already knew it wasn’t—that it’d take at least one more finger to be anywhere near enough to satisfy her.

She shook her head, silently pleading for more, and I slowly fucked her with one finger for a while before adding a second, curving up to hit her sweet spot.

Faye cried out so loudly that Santoro gave a startled laugh, looking from her to me. “Wow. Think that did the trick.”

I stayed slow, drawing on experience and steering clear of the movements that would really put her in danger of losing control.

“Ready when you are, Santoro.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, so when he lowered his head close to my fingers and flicked his tongue over her clit, she tightened reflexively around my fingers, moaning his name. God, it made me wish it was my cock inside her instead, but I’d make up for that when this was all over.

Santoro’s tongue lapped at my fingers, then back to Faye’s skin, and that moment decided exactly how I would get my pleasure tonight. For now, though, I continued to finger my girl, gradually increasing my pace and watching her beautiful reaction.

“Sir, please…more, more, fuck me harder, let me come…” Her breathless torrent of pleas varied as Santoro switched from licking to sucking and back again, and I pushed her further and further towards the edge, watching for the tell-tale signs that she was about to climax.

By the time I relented, she was almost in tears, reduced to one mindless thought—“Please, please, please, please—”

She looked stunning—helpless, flushed and completely regressed to primal, hedonistic instinct. The only way she was managing to hold on was because I knew her triggers so well—if I gave her enough to push her over the edge she wouldn’t even be capable of stopping herself. I could only imagine what the illusion felt like to her.

“Come for us, little tease,” I finally told her, and gave her what she needed as Santoro did the same.

She fell into fragments, her orgasm rippling against my fingers as she cried out over and over, aftershocks ebbing through her body until she sagged, gasping for breath, against the mattress. I withdrew my fingers slowly, then nodded at Santoro, who uncuffed her—not that she noticed.

“C’mon, girl. You need water.”

He managed to coax her up on an elbow to drink, and she gave a grateful sigh when she’d finished, smiling. “Thank you, Senior Detective.”

“Want the clamps off?”

She began to nod, then hesitated. “I thought you wanted…”

He grinned at her. “I can still fuck you without them.”

While Santoro carefully removed the clamps, one at a time, and ensured she was comfortable, I got up from the bed again, clearing the space so he could finish. It wouldn’t take long, then I could think about my own urges.

“Now, where was I before I got sidetracked?” He glanced mischievously up at me before stretching out beside Faye. As if magnetised to his body, she pressed close, giving in to temptation.

He kissed her, making no attempt to assert dominance, and Faye pushed her boundaries a little, nuzzling his neck before whispering something I couldn’t make out into his ear.

In response, he dragged her atop him, and she reached down between them to take him in hand, muffling his groan with another kiss.

“Permission to fuck you, Senior Detective?” she asked innocently, kneeling and positioning the tip of his cock exactly where she wanted it.

Santoro didn’t bother to answer—instead, he grabbed her by the hips and bucked up into her hard. Faye purred appreciation, meeting him halfway, and when she began to teasingly draw back he rolled her over, grinding her into the mattress with another breathless kiss.

She wrapped her arms around him and braced her feet against the mattress, his urgency seeming to ignite an answering response within her. Watching her arch up against his body, and the ripples of his arm and back muscles as he pounded into her, I shifted my weight, and the resulting friction of my pants against my cock almost tore a groan from my throat.

Separately, they were each alluring in their own ways. Together, they were almost irresistible.

In between husky cries of encouragement to Santoro, Faye gasped out, “Sir…?”

I’d tormented her enough tonight. “Whenever you’re ready, little tease.”

She gave me a brief yet dazzling smile before focussing on Santoro again, digging her fingernails into his back as he pushed her those final few steps towards her second orgasm of the night. Surging against him, she dragged him up to the brink with every shudder of her release, and it took him next to no time to follow her, smothering his groan against her neck as he pressed her into the bed.

Breathing hard, they lay entwined, and I sat on the edge of the bed again, brushing a strand of hair away from Faye’s lips. She opened her eyes to gaze contentedly up at me, murmuring her thanks.

Santoro took a little longer to come around, though he did have the presence of mind to roll off Faye before his weight became too much for her. I didn’t know if it was the sex, the exhibitionism or his newfound Dominant streak that had put the most strain on him—that was something I’d be able to gauge better with time.

“How’re you doing, senior detective?”

He smiled without opening his eyes. “Never better, Sir.”

Faye giggled, pulling herself into a sitting position and reaching over his head to grab some water. “You sure I didn’t just blow your mind, Senior Detective?”

“Oh, I know you did,” Santoro told her. Then, looking up at me with a glimmer of post-coital insecurity, he joked, “Not that there’s much there to blow, right, boss?”

If he’d been a little more composed, he’d have avoided that particular turn of phrase. As it was, I just raised an eyebrow at him. “From where I was standing, seemed like there was plenty to blow. Right, little tease?”

“Mm-hmm,” Faye agreed, aiming a wicked glance towards Santoro’s lap and laughing as he preened a little. Then, looking down my fully-clothed body to my obvious arousal, she said, “He’s not the only one, though, Sir.”

Before I could respond, Santoro drained his water glass and joined her at my side, agreeing, “He’s still fully-clothed, Faye. Is that fair?”

She returned his banter, risking the displeasure she knew I couldn’t be bothered to aim at her for stepping out of line. “Personally, I don’t think he should be allowed to wear clothes at all.”

“The Naked Detective,” Santoro deadpanned. “That’d make a great movie.”

“Porn?”

“Nah. Maybe more James Bond. Only without the tuxedo.”

“Can I be a Bond girl?”

“You’d make a great Bond girl.”

“Are you two done?” I interjected, before they got too carried away.

They exchanged a glance, then Santoro kicked the evening into its final stage. “That depends, Sir. Do we have permission to get you out of those clothes?”

The morning after…

Nell has spent a decadent night in Marc Cassidy’s private dungeon, and waking up with him is just as provocatively sensual. As she adjusts to the idea of being submissive during scenes and herself with him the rest of the time, she meets the other occupants of his mansion and enjoys the relaxed atmosphere around her.

Undercurrents of tension…

When the morning’s domesticity is interrupted by a phone call from Marc’s father, their plans for the evening are changed. Nell will accompany Marc to a movie awards ceremony, and she’ll need to dress the part in as much expensive finery as she wants. Nell might be getting used to the power dynamics of the D/s lifestyle, but she finds herself wondering if being showered with exquisite dresses and jewellery is more than she can handle, especially since there seem to be facets of Marc’s mood she can’t figure out. Is she expecting too much emotional commitment, too fast, or is her handsome Dom hiding something?

As posted before, the fourth book will become ‘Making a Scene’, which means the title of the third book is now ‘Collars and Dollars’ – it took me ages to come up with, but I couldn’t resist the rhyme. *grin* Check out the pretties below! (And yes, I’ve got a limited number of pics with these lovely models, so unfortunately some of the cover images are going to come up more than once… but cropped differently each time, at least. It could be worse!)

The release date for the third book, I’ve decided, will be 26th January. Watch this space!

If I’m going to get Hot, Rich and Dominant 3 out by the end of this month – which I WILL, if it kills me! – I’m going to have to leave a lot of what I wanted to do until book 4. Which will likely need to be called Making a Scene because book 3 won’t have the ‘scene’ I was thinking about in it.

So book 3 will need to have a different title. Potentially Hot, Rich and Dominant 3 – Almost Perfect, but I’m still not sure about it yet. I might be able to come up with something snappier/more relevant. Suggestions welcome, but no promises I’ll take anyone up on them! As soon as I know, I’ll be correcting my site and cover art.

Yes, I could just make book 3 longer and keep the title… but if I don’t finish a part of this soon I think people will kill start threatening to kill me. It really has been too long since Learning Curve! I can promise book 3 will be at least 10,000 words long, probably a bit longer. I’m already at 7,000 words.

Watch this space for cover art, blurbs and excerpts, coming soon – and if you’re on Facebook, ‘like’ my page and see teaser lines as they appear.

This is just for the Smashwords website, but you can download it in epub, mobi (Kindle) or pdf format when you buy it there. Happy New Year!

Resolution #1: Finish what I start.

It’s probably my biggest failing as a writer – I have a terrible attention span. I get all excited about a story arc, get a couple of instalments in, then get distracted by a new and shiny idea that is just begging to be written. You should see the state of my hard drive – the amount of stories I’ve started and abandoned would shock you!

Because I started out my writing career in the fan-fiction world (and turned some fics into original fiction before EL James and the Fifty Shades boom, thank you very much!), this habit used to reap rewards: write a chapter, proofread it, post it, and bam – feedback within a couple of hours. That got pretty addictive.

However, when people are paying for your stuff you can’t just abandon it to chase a new, shiny idea every five seconds. I’m starting to realise that, and I am going to be better at finishing what I start in 2013, starting with Hot, Rich and Dominant. Part three (probably followed by four) is next on my cards, and once I’ve finished up Nell’s and Marc’s story I’m planning to return to the world of Hidden Heat to finish the sequel, Holo Betrayal.

Then I might go on and let myself dabble in my new BDSM thriller’s world (tentatively titled The Intimate Stranger, and I could go on for pages and pages about it if I wasn’t trying to be good!) before I return to Rack and Ruin for Smurfette’s story. The poor girl has been without a Mistress for far too long…

Resolution #2: Steer away from 2012′s clichés.

This year, erotic romance has seen a huge surge in popularity, which is absolutely fantastic – for me, for fans of the genre who no longer need to hide their guilty pleasure, and for authors who are finding their way into the hearts of readers and the bestseller charts. However… there are certain things that are starting to get old, at least for me.

How many times this year have you read about the heros of your favourite books telling the heroines, “Come for me”? More than a few, I’m guessing. I’ve been guilty of writing it myself, I’m sure – it used to be one of the hottest things I’d ever read, the first couple of times I noticed it. Now, though? I’m starting to roll my eyes every time it crops up in something I’m reading. The more it’s used, the less effect it has on me.

It’s probably something that was a cliché way before 2012, but this year is the first I’ve submerged myself completely in the world of erotic romance, so forgive me for being a bit slow on the uptake.

I also want to steer clear of billionaires once I’ve finished Hot, Rich and Dominant – I’m not sure about your average reader, but as a writer I feel like that genre is 100% tapped out – sort of like the zombie genre in horror at the moment. Zombies and billionaires have been everywhere this year! Now, billionaire zombies… that might be an interesting combination, but probably not romantic in the slightest.

If you’re reading this, what are your own personal hated clichés? Help me avoid them if possible! No promises, but I can do my best…

Resolution #3: Do more research.

You might be thinking, ‘Boring!’ at this one – but when you’re writing about BDSM it’s more fun than you might think to research it. Whether it’s talking to sadists, masochists, Dom(me)s or subs about their experiences or having a little refresher course on what it’s like to be tied up and tormented, there’s always a new experience to be enjoyed and written about. Though admittedly, sometimes it can be hard to take notes at the time, what with your hands being tied and everything.

Sometimes I wonder if I’d be into kink if I didn’t want to write about it. Then I laugh at myself for even having that thought. *grin*

Resolution #4: Diversify.

It’s true that I’m mainly a kinky writer these days – I just like the D/s dynamic, and the less formal sadist/masochist one, too much to write stories that are completely vanilla. But even while sticking to elements like pain-play and submission, there’s so much you can do with erotic romance. I’d hate to be the kind of author who just churns out the same story with slightly different locations and characters every time.

So my resolution is to do as much with the genre as I can – I want to write some inter-racial BDSM in 2013, and stories about some big, beautiful submissives as well as thinner girls. I want to write a post-apocalyptic kinky romance. I want to turn some traditional story tropes on their heads. I have a million different ideas, but I won’t be exploring them until I’m done with resolution #1, obviously.

I’d better end this post before I start getting too enthusiastic about new stories before I finish the ones in progress.

'Meh' photo credit: Яick Harris via photopin 
Bondage photo credit: dadevoti via photopin
Tree photo credit: Sand Creation via photopin

Merry Christmas! Once I get Christmas dinner over with, I’ll be spending mine sitting amongst family while they watch TV, pretending I’m not writing smutty things when I am.

Between Christmas and New Year, I’m hoping to get some serious HRD3 time in. Thanks so much to those who have given feedback – I hear you, and I’ll do my best to leave a few plot strands unresolved for a fourth book.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and Happy December to those who don’t…