Snippet: from The Bound Heart.
It’s been a while. Working to push the books out in a 6-8 month window has drawn me away from my blog since mid last year. Apologies. I’ll start to share more of The Bound Heart over the next few weeks. It is a story I was worried about publishing, not sure my readers and supporters of The Veiled Heart, would make the jump with me. Thank you…you did.
The characters of The Bound Heart, Jamie Edwards a Shibari master with some particular sexual preferences and the persistent Olive Thompson, they are very close to my heart. Their emotional vulnerability and courage I found very moving. I love how they are who they unapologetically and that they recognise that in each other.
Here is a sexy snippet from the start of the book. Jamie is leaving his job as a bookbinder, where he gets to see Olive every week. So along with it he is stepping back from Olive… but not before he has a taste. They are in the bookbinding workshop in the attic of the Bond Street Bookshop, Jamie has Olive siting on a work table, her skirts pressed up over her thighs and he standing between them. They have been kissing…it’s escalating…
“One more taste, Olive Thompson,” he whispered over her mouth.
Those soft lips pushed against his, her mouth open, and her warm, hungry tongue pressed against his.
Long, languid strokes and he was as out of breath as she was.
His fingers worked her jacket, loosened it as they kissed. Her breath hitched as his hand slipped down her chemise and over her breast. A hard nipple pressed against his palm.
She moved forward and pushed against his thigh, her hands pulling him forward. Her breath dragged through her mouth as they kissed.
He was going to lose control.
In this moment, he didn’t care if she deserved better.
He moved her hand down to his pants and pressed her against the aching need they contained.
She rolled her palm over him, bit at his lip. All he could feel was her. All he wanted was her.
Her hands worked at his trouser buttons.
A slight shift in posture and he reached down between them, found the opening in her drawers and pushed his fingers through.
The soft damp curls against his fingers, the wet folds a slick satin as he slid through them.
The doorknob rattled.
Three knocks on the door.
“Mr. Edwards, are you in there?”
The kiss stopped. They panted in the silence.
The door rattled again.
PRINT BOOK COMING MARCH 2016
Feature image Dasha Friedlova