I am in the middle of writing a book. It follows on from Tantalizing Tilly – which follows on from Penned Again which follows on from Anyone But You. Did I plan it that way? No – it just happened. These characters wandered into the story and I thought I like them. I don’t know about most authors but I don’t write in any scheduled, disciplined manner. I may start at the beginning or the middle or the end. I constantly criss-cross back and forward over paragraphs when I get stuck or if I come home from work and I have thought up something, usually at the traffic lights, that should go in Chapter 7 when I am only in Chapter 4. I also have the habit of writing the dialogue first and the story around it – the sex comes last. I know – how is that possible when there are some non erotic writers who think erotic writers build the story around
sex? Maybe some do – I don’t. Maybe some people should not tar every one with the same brush. So I write a stream of dialogue and then every so often I write the words ‘sex here’ because I think that would be an excellent moment for the hero and heroine to have sex. Then I go back and write in the sex. Yeah, it’s evidence of the chaos theory once more. My editor is now going, “That’s why her submissions are so shambolic.”
How hard is it to write sex? I have been discussing this with an aspiring writer. She has the stuff to write a scorcher of a book and I want to see her finish it. However it is hard to start off writing explicit sex when you never have. I think it’s because as girls we are taught certain ways of behaviour and as women we have a particular moral code. Also sex is so general. Let’s face it everyone has there ideas on what is great sex. How do you write a romance novel with sizzling sex that will appeal to all readers? Well, you can’t. Not everyone is going to like what you write so that’s rule number one. Get over yourself. Some people will never like what you write – move on. Rule number 2, on the
Amarinda scale, is it’s all about fantasy. I believe women want to read about this fantastic man who sees only beauty in the heroine and will do anything to please her. You gotta love a man like that. Rule 3 – be yourself. I you don’t want to write ménage as it makes you uncomfortable or it’s too hard to work out whose parts go where – then don’t. If writing submissive romance makes you want to slap the hero of your book then maybe it’s not for you. Write what you believe. I reckon that’s what makes others want to read your book – it’s believable or it could happen. People will easily tell you if your books suck and why…let’s call that rule 4. If they do – listen to what they are saying. They may be right in some way and yeah, maybe you can do better. Or if you believe in your heart they are wrong, then learn to develop a very thick skin and stand by what you believe in. Last Amarinda theory – try – if you don’t have a go and submit what you believe is your best work then you will never bloody know what could be. Put it out there – er, the book – not the sex.
Five fast ones with talented Ellora’s Cave author Taylor Tryst – click on the cover to buy
1. What star sign are you? Name one fabulous characteristic of this sign.
Pisces. Creativity, when it’s actually working. :}
I’m about to fire my muse.
2. If your book was made into a movie who would play the hero and heroine?
I’ve always imagined Angelina Jolie playing my heroine. She tough, strong and very sexual in nature. The hair, the lips, the bod…who could ask for more.
Ever since Buffy, Angel, and Bones, I’ve admired David Boreanaz. Talk about hot and brooding. MMMM--MMMMM. He’s total eye candy.
3. My favorite food is….because….
That’s easy. Mexican food is my favorite food, because I grew up in Phoenix, Arizona and ate it constantly. I miss it every day. You just don’t find good, authentic Mexican food in Minnesota. I’ve even imagined opening a Mexican Food restaurant here.
4. If I was in charge of the world I would….
Be certain that military veterans receive all of the benefits that they deserve and that trainees in boot camp or basic training have advocates, are properly treated, and receive appropriate medical care.
5. Name your special talent.
I think I have a talent for relating to other people and animals on an emotional level. I’ve always been able to empathize and care deeply about other people’s emotions and the tragedies that might affect their lives. I also love animals and can’t imagine not having them as a part of my life. We have 5 horses, too many cats to mention, dogs, and a new litter of baby kittens. We’ve also rescued several lost dogs and cared for them until they were returned to their owners or taken to the animal shelter.
Leather and Lace By Taylor Tryst
Ex-cop turned private investigator Cleo Tanek receives a mysterious request to follow and document billionaire Lukas Nathanial Lace's every move. What she soon discovers, however, is that Lace has been marked for death and that the information she provided will assist in carrying out his murder.
Unable to control the desperate heat that ignites between them, they succumb to a night of hot, passionate sex. Cleo then learns that her mysterious client is a senator whom she believes ordered the hit. She must tell Luke the truth, keep him alive and somehow blow the senator out of the water.
With a fetish for leather and handcuffs, and the need to be in control, Cleo is fascinated by her irrepressible urge to submit to Lace's every whim, and the dominant role he assumes over her body, mind and soul. Cleo discovers that leather and lace is a deadly combination.
Leather and Lace - The excerpt – be warned – this is an adult excerpt
Cleo was so wet, and as they stumbled up the staircase, their fingers interlaced, she was unable to tear her mouth from his. He was like fire, and the worst of it was that she wanted to be burned.
His flesh was hot to the touch, and his mouth, dear God in heaven, thank you for that amazing mouth.
Exploring, sampling, taunting. She wondered if he tasted this delicious all over and desperately hoped she’d find out.
He stepped into the living room, heading for a black leather sofa and reaching up to loosen his tie.
“No,” Cleo scolded. “Don’t.” She knocked his hand away. She wanted to be the one who undressed him, wanted to be the one in control.
She was always in control and didn’t plan to give it up anytime soon. It was how she’d stayed alive in her line of work. How she kept her heart from being broken for so many years.
Though part of her wanted to give this man everything, to allow him to control her, her mind screamed out, demanding that she employ the only survival method that had worked all of these years.
If she was going to do this, she decided, she planned to enjoy the hell out of it and do it her way.
“Sit,” Cleo demanded, motioning Luke toward her black leather sofa.
Luke was so prim and proper in his expensive suit and those designer shoes. She wanted to tear away the layers of control that he prided himself in, and draw out the real Lukas Lace.
Oh, he checked that shit, all right. He was certain to keep it hidden, to keep his emotions hidden behind lock and key and hide what he really wanted from everyone.
He spent his entire life doing what his father had wanted him to do and being polite and proper, as his mother had required. Business and etiquette classes by age ten. He was a fine young man.
He was the perfect son, the perfect boss and the perfect executive but Cleo needed to be the one woman who drove him over the edge. The one woman who helped him break all of those stuffy rules.
In her book, rules didn’t apply.
Cleo had a desperate desire to peel off those clothes the minute she’d seen him. To ruin that good-boy image he so dutifully portrayed. She put her foot on the arm of the couch and bent forward to unbuckle her stiletto.
“No,” Luke said, shaking his head. “Don’t.”
Oh, Mr. Lace wanted to play. Cleo smiled wickedly. She was very good at playing games.
“I said sit,” she countered. He reached for her wrist but she palmed his chest and gave him a shove. She pushed him back into the sofa and bit her bottom lip.
She wasn’t one of his minions.
She wasn’t one of the women who threw themselves at his feet. She would do as she pleased and he would like it.
She’d see to that.
“I’ll come,” he warned her as she straddled his lap and he hissed as if in physical pain. He ran his palms over her thighs.
“You’re so hard,” Cleo whispered, grinding against his cock.
“I want you,” he growled. “I can’t remember the last time I wanted anyone like this.” He tugged on her hair, pulling her head back and leaning in to kiss her neck.
Cleo moaned as his lips found her bare skin.
“Maybe never,” he told her.
Cleo pulled back and nipped his lower lip, staring boldly into his eyes, eyes that were flickering with blue flame.
She grasped his face between her palms and shoved her tongue into his mouth.
The kiss was deep and fast, hard and thorough. Panting, gasping for air, they consumed, feeding off one another as if giving life.
Cleo ground her hips against the bulge in his pants. Hearts racing, she lost all conscious thought.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph—” Luke tore his mouth from hers. He squeezed her hips, trying to get control.
If this kept up, he definitely wouldn’t last more than five seconds. He was a grown man, for God’s sake, not some pubescent teen on his first date.
Premature ejaculation wasn’t something he’d had to consider since Rebecca Ross in junior high. Not even then, when the mere sight of female flesh sent him over the edge, had he been so out of control, reacted so primitively.
Luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He attempted to ignore the rock-hard boner that was trying to pull an Incredible Hulk and rip its way out of his pants.
It had been too long since he’d had sex and this woman was unlike any he’d ever encountered. Couldn’t even be compared.
It was as if there had been no one before and there’d be no one after, for either of them.
The air filled with her flowery scent and he ran his hands down the long arch of her back and to the slope of her ass.
The moment he’d laid eyes on her in the lobby of his office building that morning—and yes, he was certain it had been her—he’d felt the earth shift around him like there’d been a quake.
She’d disappeared in the crowd and now that he had found her, she wasn’t getting away.
Fate had brought them together. Luke never challenged fate.
Her skin was creamy, as pale as midnight moonlight and her features cut with razor-sharp angles that took her beauty to a whole new level.
She wasn’t a perfect ten with the thin, gaunt look a model was required to maintain. She didn’t have perfect bone structure and there was no delicacy there.
Only dramatic strength. From the slash of her cheekbones, to arched brows that framed her emerald eyes burning with flecks of gold and brown, she was all power and intensity.
Cleo reached down between them and ran her hand over the bulge in his pants, tracing the outline of his cock beneath the fine fabric of his suit.
“No—” Luke shuddered. He grabbed her by the wrist and shook his head, pleasure so powerful it was almost painful filling his body and soul. “I’ll come…”
He had to take control or this was finished and he’d disappoint her. Disappoint them both.
He released her and drove his hands through her glorious hair. He pulled her into him, bucking his hips and capturing her mouth with his for a punishing kiss.
God, he loved her hair, her amazing body, the taste of her mouth.
He drove his tongue against hers, battling to take control. Tasting, seeking and feeding off her succulent flavor.
Cleo nipped his bottom lip, fighting him for control. She was making a power play but she was failing to control the zone, Luke thought with a half-smile.
Luke slid his hands up her athletic thighs and gripped her hips, pulling her against his throbbing cock, dry-humping her.
“Bed?” he commanded. He stood so suddenly that she gasped. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he cupped her ass and held her against his cock.
No more teasing. He wanted to fuck her now. Had to have her. “Where…is…it?”
“Didn’t take you for the traditional type,” Cleo teased, grabbing his bottom lip between her teeth and biting.
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