 One of my favorite friends and authors, Nerine Dorman, has graced my miserly blog with her presence. Her accumulated experience in the realm of making awesome stuff totally dwarfs mine. Writing, editing, journalism, film-making, writing music, playing said music while being a Goth chick who's probably even stage dived! I mean, my god, am I showing how good she is and how wimpy I am yet? Onward to the questions. Although first, I have to squeeze this in - what an incredible cover! Nerine, give us some idea of the background that inspired you to write Hell's Music. Hell’s Music was born out of music. After a long absence from having any definite love for any particular bands or sounds, I started listening to my old favourites again last year. These include bands such as Nine Inch Nails, White Zombie, Rammstein and Type O Negative, but also newer sounds such as Seventh Void and A Pale Horse Named Death. The music ignites something in me, and sparks my creativity. This got me thinking along the lines of an unlikely love story where the girl meets the totally unsuitable guy. Despite the differences in their backgrounds—or perhaps because of their contrasts—they make a go at being together. And it’s not easy, because of the destructive aspects of the man’s personality. Sometimes we love the wrong people. We love them despite the fact that they will make us hurt. But to not love them leaves us missing some profound aspect of our lives. The story itself is born out of a “what if” scenario. What if you had a chance to be romantically entangled with a celebrity? What would the consequences of such a relationship be? Of course I modelled my celeb on a melange of my favourite bad-boy lead singers. The novel itself is dedicated to Peter Steele, who passed away in April last year. Type O Negative’s music has kept me company through many dark patches in my life and I listen to it a lot while I write. What sort of men do you like to feature in your stories? Ditto for the women. Most of my men and women are damaged in some way, be it from past relationships or issues that are as of yet unresolved. This obviously affects the way they deal with their problems. One of my writing partners and I have coined the phrase “Tall, Dark & Looming” or “TD&L” for when we Tweet or share on Facebook, which refers to my preference for tall guys, who usually sport loads of tattoos and have long, dark hair. Considering that I hang out in the alternative scene, this is pretty much what turns me on about guys. Often, despite these tough and somewhat intimidating exteriors, these guys are surprisingly sensitive. I like that contrast. I prefer my ladies as individuals who are in control of their lives. Or show them taking control of their destinies as a story progresses when they’re in a bad space. It’s not often that they need rescuing, although that does happen from time to time. Sure, they may have been hurt, or get hurt in the process but there is always some sort of personal transformation that takes place—or a shift in world view. One theme that is prevalent is that most of my stories feature people who are bohemian or creative in one way or another. It’s a case of “write what you know”—and most of my friends are photographers, filmmakers, performance artists, authors, musicians or models. Also, my characters will offer what I know is a more authentic approach to how subcultures are represented in fiction. Do you think erotic romance is too formulaic? It can be, but then the same goes for all genres, be it fantasy or horror. That being said, there are certain criteria that are universal to a good romance novel, the same as for a fantasy or good thriller. It all lies in how an author can build a story on the framework and satisfy readers’ expectations for the formula without it being too predictable. Is there ever too much sex in an erotic romance story? I’m a firm believer in balance. A novel that is weak in plot, that is just one sexual encounter after another bores me quickly. However, if an author writes with enough “down time” between sex scenes then the only limit to how much sex there is depends on the intended word count. This is, however, a personal preference of mine. I prefer less sex but more simmering tension in a story. Once the characters have done the deed, it’s difficult recapturing some of that initial anticipation a reader feels when boy meets girl. If you were in the same situation as your female main character in your story would you too be chasing after the man? Without a doubt. I have a weakness for unsuitable men. I married my husband, after all. Everyone predicted I’d end up in a gutter with a needle in my vein. I’m happy to say it’s been the opposite: I live in a treehaus near a national park and am a multiply published author whose day job allows her to travel every once in a while. Living with a man whose second name is Trouble certainly makes for a very exciting life. Sometimes a little too exciting but hey—I never run out of ideas for novels. Useful links: Like my author page on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Nerine-Dorman-author/173330419365374 or follow me on Twitter @nerinedorman Click here to buy Hell's Music at Lyrical Press (or to read an excerpt)
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 Does this revolutionary idea sending you running off screaming and waving your arms as if a zombie attack is imminent? Can you see yourself picking up a book with an ugly hero? Would you rather kiss a zombie than read about a guy with zits smooching the heroine?
I ’m not talking real life here. So puh-leese don’t throw things at me. I know we’re not all model material and I regularly wear a paper bag at the supermarket so as not to scare the customers. Moving on… This is a common gripe of readers -- handsome, shiny heroes who are like sculptures in manly flesh, all hairless and muscular with an abdomen you could snuggle up to for eternity while purring happily, and licking…mustn’t forget the licking. And don't get me started on the length of their magnificent nine inch cocks that in a pinch can be used to decapitate villains or rip open beer cans. I’d have to say I’m guilty of writing in such men, though sometimes I do leave the exact dimensions of the manly appendages unsaid. Imagination is king in a book. Readers like to exercise it every so often and an author spoonfeeding us every single detail is like eating cold porridge after a while. I’d also say that faced with such a man in reality, I’d be looking at those abs and wondering if you could play them like a xylophone. Too perfect is a downer. Give me some wrinkles, some evidence that the man has lived and done more than visit the gym and polish his pecs on a daily basis. What would be the line that is uncrossable though? Pimples? Bad breath and missing teeth? Baldness (noooo, I like my bald guys!). Is there a line at all or is it just a matter of ‘does the author have the talent and cojones to pull it off?’ Of course beauty, or ugliness, is in the eye of the beholder. A common perception is that publishers demand these Adonis types but I think authors can get away with a far from perfect main man if he appeals to the reader and rocks the lady’s socks (or stockings, corset, g-string and fuck-me shoes) off. I’ve seen delectable men written who are missing limbs or blind. Way to go authors! You’ve given me food for thought. Maybe this is the new trend? Imperfect men -- physically imperfect that is -- we all know and love men with tortured souls. So now it’s time for erotic romance to embrace those with tortured bodies. Or at the very least, those with bodies in need of a pedicure, and the attention of a team of plastic surgeons. Not that I’m letting those surgeons and beauty therapists near my new men. Stay as you are guys. I’ve got my shotgun out and locked and loaded -- um…can you do that with shotguns? And while I’m waiting for the therapists and surgeons to launch their assault, I’m off to blow away some tea party zombies. go HERE for zombies Here’s a game thrown at us BDSM authors by Lesli Richardson, who obviously likes her men with a few bits missing too…noses, eyes, arms, just not the pecker. Leave the pecker be. Please. Like a taste of BDSM instead? Click on the BDSM authors Playroom link over there on the right.  Bianca Sommerland is one of those authors who writes on the edge of the dark, nasty and naughty. But if you're in love with that style of writing she'll keep you squirming the whole story through. Don't expect flowers and love letters in this short story. Come prepared to gasp and to get so hot and bothered the air conditioning in the bus will be laboring to keep you cool...because that's where you are in "The Trip" -- on a long slow bus trip with a dark, and exquisitely evil man who can't wait to get his hands on Shawna. 'Evil' in the best and sexiest possible way of course. By the end Shawna won't be just squirming, she'll be begging for more. Blurb for "The Trip" On the long trip back to Toronto from an art show in Detroit, Shawna’s bus makes an unexpected stop in the middle of nowhere. When the bus is evacuated, she ends up alone with a man who’s just as dark and dominant as the heroes in her favorite books. Her desires tempt her to let her guard down—to take a chance that he might be everything she needs—but how far is she willing to go? She’s afraid to find out . . . and even more afraid not to. Excerpt Insane, but part of her wondered how far this little game of his would go. What would he do when he figured out she didn't want to play? Gritting her teeth, she sneered at him. "Fuck you." Letting out a feral snarl, he slapped her. Her eyes burned as the sting spread, becoming hot little spikes of pure sensation, traveling down her nerves. "Don't test me, you little bitch." He bit her throat, and her back arched. More spikes stabbed into her, and she moaned. No, no! I can't give in! Yet the words left her before she could stop them. "Don't test you? Or what? If you're going to rape me, get it over with." “Really?” He laughed, sounding as insane as she probably did. Then he pushed her thighs open and hooked her calves over his shoulders. “You think that’s the worst I can do to you?” Yes! Something inside her cried, but a remote part of her wanted more. Wanted something wild, something extreme. She wanted nothing more than to have control ripped away so thoroughly that she would never have to face it again. But he couldn’t give her that. No one could. “Like I said.” Her muscles went slack and she rested her head on the hand fisted against her scalp. “Get it over with.” Letting go of her hair, he rose up on his knees, lifting her ass high off the ground. “If you insist.” He put one hand on her knee and shoved the other in the pocket of his black jeans. Tearing a small packet open with his teeth, he bent down and spread her ass cheeks apart. “Try to relax.” Something with sharp edges pressed against her anus and cold, slick fluid filled her. Then something big and hard pressed into her, stretching her, feeling like it would tear her open. Her asshole wasn’t meant to stretch like that. And the burning, oh god, it was too much! The tip of whatever he was shoving inside her felt small, but got bigger and bigger as he worked it in. She whimpered and shifted her hips. “Relax.” He bared her stomach and kissed above her navel. “If you force me to tear you, I won’t be able to fuck your ass later.” Later? As though she’d let him near her again. He pushed harder and she felt his hand slip. The hard object nearly slid out of her. Her insides rippled as though missing the intrusion. So wrong, yet...yet she didn’t want him to stop! “No!” Her hips shot up as the emptiness tore at her more fiercely than what he had done possibly could. “Please...” “That’s what I like to hear.” And with that he slammed the thing that felt like a chunk of stone deep inside her ass. Before she could adapt to being full from behind, he stuffed fingers inside her pussy—two...no three—and started pumping so hard it felt like he was punching her swollen, wet folds. Every muscle, from her abs to her thighs, clenched as climax threatened, feeling much like she’d exposed her most vulnerable parts to an open flame. She tossed her head from side to side and gouged her tongue with her teeth to keep from screaming. He let her legs drop from his shoulders and bent over her. “There we go. I think we can head back now.” “You son of a bitch!” She ground the back of her head into the dirt. Damp earth coated her scalp as she writhed and bucked her hips. “Finish it!” “’No.” He circled her clit with his thumb, around and around, never close enough to stimulate, just close enough to keep her aroused. “You’re not getting off until you’re ready to beg. Get back on the bus and read more of your book. I think I’ll take the empty seat next to you—you’ve been looking a little lonely.” His fingers were still inside her, but he wouldn’t move them, damn him! They were seated deep like the thing in her ass, simply...there. The juices of her body seeped out and quickly turned cold, as though to remind her she’d get nothing until he decided to give it to her.  Isn't there a form for everything? Here's the... Officially Silly Spanking Request Form To be used prior to all spanking sessions…or else. Please fill in in triplicate and use black ink. No lah de dah pink fluoro pens, or smart-ass white ink or the moderator will deal with your ass. Spankee: Spanker: Method of spanking(Tick relevant section): Over the knee Over the table Over the igloo (for Cherise Sinclair fans only please) Whilst running damn fast (only for experienced subs and Doms) Bare-handed Vampire glove (ouchies) With something from the kitchen drawer that's NOT still got lasagna on it Date intended for spanking: Christmas Day -- please ensure mandatory Santa Claus costume is available Easter time -- either the spanker or spankee must wear a bunny costume, with the ears still on. For the safety of all participants the Spanker must also register a below .05 level of chocolate in the blood. Extra equipment: Rope Fluffy pink cuffs Rubber chicken Hamster That sexy guy who delivered the pizza last week Desired color of Ass: light pink burgundy purple nuclear-orange with green dinosaur shapes Size of de ass: Size of the butt plug (if any): If there's a discrepancy between the size of de ass and the butt plug size, please get a second opinion. Intended force: Feather duster Bit Harder Big Whack Yes, just there only a bit higher Damn, that HURT and I'm gonna sue you blind Any sub filling in the name of their Dom under any 'ass' related sections please refer to Form 2B: The Bratty sub Punishment form Duration: (more than 20 mins and we call the fire brigade…so they can watch…and maybe some other uniformed guys, but only if they’re damn hawt, and bare-chested. Phew. It is hot in here. Take off those pants, sir and…) Ahem, continuing. Signed (the Husband, Wife, Master, Dom/me in charge): |
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Copyright Cari Silverwood 2011. All rights reserved. No part of these publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.
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 AuthorCari Silverwood is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of kinky darkness or sometimes of dark kinkiness, depending on her moods and the amount of time she's spent staring into the night. Follow Cari Silverwood on...
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