On June 26th my book, Rough Surrender, was republished by Momentum /Pan Macmillan and arrived in eBook stores! This is my historical erotic romance set in Cairo in 1910. If you're like me and find both erotic BDSM and history fascinating, you'll love this story.
One master, one woman who craves surrender, and a sky that will challenge them both.
At a time when airplanes are as new-fangled and sensational as the telephone, Faith dares to fly.
The one territory she has not explored is her own sexuality. In Leonhardt she discovers the man who can teach her how a woman surrenders her body and her mind. However, Leonhardt has a shadowed past and his own learning to do. He doesn't have the right to keep Faith from flying, even if he thinks airplanes are flimsy death-traps made of canvas, timber and their inventor's prayers.
Faith has her limits, Leonhardt has his flaws, and sometimes the nicest people get murdered by unscrupulous bastards. Even if Leonhardt can save the woman he loves, the battle for Faith's heart will be the hardest one of all.
To read a sample of Rough Surrender, go here.
To find out why I wrote it, or to read some kinky history, or even plain old history about what was happening in Cairo at the time of the book, go to the Rough Surrender website here.
Some of you may have read my free novella, Cataclysm Blues. I always intended to turn this into a full story and in fact I plan a trilogy. The demon-stitched are coming, along with Sheriff Rose and Talon. I'm pretty sure the ending of the novella will have to change for it to become the beginning of the first novel.
If you haven't read this book and would like to, go here where I show the links. Possibly Amazon may have reverted to making it 99c in the USA.
I'm at the planning stage and about to start writing. As soon as I do the last edits on Intimidator, I'll be typing away. Very excited to finally be getting this one moving!
As sheriff of Rusted Rattlesnake, Rose is used to being on top. Until the day she meets Talon, a bad-ass drifter on a motorcycle who shows her that being on the bottom can be loads of fun.
Adults Only Excerpt - 18 years plus
From The Dom with a Safeword - a contemporary BDSM M/f/f menage.
I'm co-writing this book with Leia Shaw and Sorcha Black. I'm writing the Dom, Jude. Leia is writing the innocent submissive, Sabrina, who is new to both BDSM and girl on girl. And Sorcha Black is writing the bisexual switch Q, who hates her real name and rarely tells it.
Here's the blurb if you want a bit of an idea about what's going on.
Late at night, on an amateur ghost hunt, Sabrina and her best friend Q are caught trespassing by the gorgeous, blond Jude. The embers of attraction between them sizzle when they discover Jude’s kinks match their own. Jude is a Dom on his last summer of freedom before starting the prison sentence that is med school. Q is a badass bi switch who knows what she wants, and for years it’s been her cute, doe-eyed straight friend Sabrina. But the only way for Q into Sabrina’s heart and panties may be with Jude’s fist wrapped in her hair.
Domming the bratty Q and mischievous Sabrina isn’t going to be easy but Jude relishes the challenge. At the end of the summer, will they find a way to stay together when everything is tearing them apart?
This little scene is from the first time the three of them 'play' together and Sabrina is wondering what she has gotten herself into. Of course Jude is rather good at reassuring her, in many ways, that she's right where she should be.
Yet that hold of Jude’s on her was so firm, unrelenting, and male. His callouses rubbed her nape. He’d shown her such consideration without relinquishing a single jot of control. And without him speaking a single word to her, Sabrina felt their connection sink in, from where his palm touched her skin, and spread through her flesh.
The hem of the dress reached her upper thighs. Trembling, she adjusted her grip on the tablecloth, and put her forehead to the cloth.
This book will be released on Halloween, and we'll be kicking off with a sale price of 99 cents for that weekend only. Check the Wicked Cucumber Press website for more information closer to the Halloween weekend.
Late news, alas Leia and Wicked Cucumber won't be having a 99 cent sale on Release Day.
Joining six sentence sunday can be fun! To join in, and find other participating writers, go here six sentence sunday
On twitter use the hashtag #sixsunday
Adults Only - 18 years plus
There you are! You've made it this far through the Hero's Blog Hop - unscathed by arrows or swords, by bullets or by a hero's stunningly built muscles that gleam in the sunshine as if freshly polished. That is why you like heroes isn't it? So you can run your tongue down that torso, slowly detouring around their belly button, and downwards...unzipping...unbuttoning...mmm
Or is it? I lift one eyebrow and give you a second to think.
The physical yumminess is always enticing, but for me, it is what's inside them that makes a hero. And what they DO.
I love a man with a heart, a lover's soul, a man who does what he has to when times are not just tough, but bad enough to bring him to his knees despite the landscape littered with shards of glittering glass.
That man -- the man who crawls across the glass with sword in hand, or sharpened toothpick, to save his lady -- he is the hero for me.
What is most important to you in a hero? Delectable muscles? Come on, admit your weaknesses. I won't tell a soul!
My personal prize for this blog hop is a $5 gift card and a book from my backlist
- so that excludes Rough Surrender, the one I have an excerpt for below.
This is my hero, Leonhardt Meisner. A man who will move heaven and earth, and overcome his greatest fear, to save his love, Faith Evard.
I can't show Leonhardt's greatest heroic moment, because that is toward the end of the story, but here is when they first kiss.
Faith halted at the door, put her palm to the wood while her other hand brushed her fringe back as well as she could without a mirror--needing that moment to compose herself.
Liar. Damnable liar. She had let him do that. She couldn’t trust herself.
“Leonhardt,” he said.
“What?” Frowning, she turned. At least, this time he’d kept some distance, a few feet, between them. Not enough. Her treacherous tongue curled out to touch her lip. Why did she do that? As if...as if she could taste him on the air. Her nostrils flared. She could smell him, though: tobacco and soap and sweat, but even in winter, Cairo would make anyone sweat.
“Leonhardt. Call me that.”
“I doubt that would be appropriate, Mr. Meisner.”
His mouth curved in a small smile. “You lied before. Of course.” He took an unhurried stride forward, brought up his arms and braced them either side of her head.
“If it weren’t for that adorable tongue of yours, I’d have let you go. Now, I’m going to see what you taste like.” He lowered his head.
Faith strained away, the back of her skull smacking lightly into the timber.
“Don’t move.” Those two words were like nails driving her into place. He covered her lips with his and she gave a muffled groan as his tongue slid into her mouth alongside hers.
All resistance vaporized. She fought to stay aware and upright though her legs threatened to collapse and her logical brain had disintegrated into a swirl of lustful thoughts. Nothing mattered except the feel of him inside her. His lips pressed and slid, his teeth caught her flesh here, there...his breath merged with hers. This was a man who knew how to take.
His body moved in, squeezing her between timber and man. If she needed to breathe, she must accept what he gave her. If he didn’t hold her there, she’d fall. The world shifted on its axis.
Sweet Jesus, she loved it.
This time, when he drew away, she kept her fingers hooked into the heavy fabric of his coat. Something hard and long pulsed against her stomach--his manhood. All of their own accord, her hips arched forward. Her panting came a little faster.
“We’d best be leaving.” He stroked the side of her face with his knuckles.
“Mmm.” Someone had put glue on her tongue and throat
“Mmm? You kiss like an angel come down from heaven, sweetheart. Tell me the truth this time, before I let you go. Did you like that?”
Before I let you go That matter-of-fact statement shook her. Her eyes swept up, found his--so striking, so intense. She searched for a word to describe them. Animalistic? When eyes were given out, he’d been given the wrong ones--those of a hawk or wolf.
She considered lying but couldn’t, not while he held her still in place. “Yes,” she whispered. “I did.”
His knuckles feathered over her lips and, on impulse, she licked at them. His eyes darkened.
A hiss escaped from between his teeth. “You tempt me too much.” Then he stood, moved back and gestured at the door.
It took a moment for her to adjust to the loss--of feeling his body on hers.
By the time he slid back the door and guided her toward the motorcar with his hand low on her back, she’d done some thinking. If she’d doubted his effect on her, she now knew for certain. He’d given her an entirely new understanding of kissing. Mr. Meisner...Leonhardt, could own her without doing anything more than saying a single word.
He opened the passenger door. Their eyes met.
Well, two words. She wasn’t that easy.
Don’t move. The memory of her response scalded her. Like a cat on heat, she wanted to lie down at his feet and arch her back. Whatever am I going to do?
Buylinks are below & a bigger sample from Rough Surrender is here.
Night Owl Top Pick 5/5; The Romance Reviews Top Pick 5/5; Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews 5/5 "Purest Delight"; BDSM Book Reviews 5/5 Paddles, 5/5 Kinks; Kinky Book Reviews 5/5 Kinks; Mrs Condit Reads Books 5/5; Scorching Book Reviews 5/5; Erzabet's Enchantments 5/5; and Manic Readers 5/5
Make that 10 out of 10 sites. I can see from Goodreads, that Holly from Full Moon Bites is also giving the book 5/5
Adults Only - 18 Years Plus
He’d never found a woman, he didn’t have to pay, who showed a true inclination for what he craved. Yet here was Faith, a wholesome normal woman who’d liked being dominated. Unorthodox and lovely and one of the most intriguing ladies he’d ever met. She wasn’t afraid to break the rules, and if she hadn’t done so earlier, he’d not be here, in her bedroom with this soft arousing bundle of femininity in his arms.
Maybe, after all, there wasn’t anything wrong with him and his desires? With one hand on her head and the other cradling her rounded bottom, emotions churned to the surface inside him -- both an overwhelming tenderness and a powerful need to spread her out on the bed and do everything to her body he could imagine.
This excerpt is from my next release - Rough Surrender - a historical BDSM set in Cairo 1910. Out June 4th from Lyrical Press
See my "books" tab for a longer excerpt.
Joining six sentence sunday can be fun! To join in, and find other participating writers, go here six sentence sunday
On twitter use the hashtag #sixsunday
Here it is. This story's not releasing from Lyrical Press until June 4th.
This one is a historical BDSM romance with a luscious sexy man called Leonhardt Meisner chasing after my heroine, Faith Evard. Does he catch her? Several times, of course!
I now know so much about Cairo in 1910, airplanes in the early 20th century, the building of Heliopolis in the desert near Cairo, Paul Poiret and fashion, and corsets...that I think my head may burst.
A side benefit is that I'm pretty sure I could fly this airplane you see below across the English Channel. This is a bleriot. Amazing the things you can learn online. Care to hop on board as my wingman...or winglady?
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.
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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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Cari 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.
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