Are you into . . .

As an author, I go through a lot of ideas. Some come to me in dreams, others I get from seeing things, i.e. on tv, around me, on road signs, and still from reading. The idea holds, I flesh it out a little, and see if it will work for in a story.

It made me wonder. Are authors into the the things they write about? For instance, an author who writes extreme BDSM. Not love stories, not just erotica, but more fantasy. You know, the kind that the characters connect, but it’s their darker, baser needs that they see in each other that keep them together.

That is just one example, but I use it to answer questions that are uppermost in readers’ minds.

Are you into . . . I would say that, to an extent, authors are into what they write about. In Diamonds Aren’t Forever, I have a scene where Sebastian spanks Peyton. I’ve hinted throughout the story that he’s into BDSM. I’ve mentioned where Peyton’s tied between two posts, and sensual torture is used while receiving a sensual spanking. Those scenes not only hold the reader’s interest, but also make up what I enjoy reading, and is part of my lifestyle.

However, the scene in the chapter 10 is Peyton’s punishment for treating Tee so badly. My point. I write about things that I’m into. How deep am I into the lifestyle? I’m not going to elaborate. I am sure there are others. I’m also certain that they’re not going to reveal how much of their book is playing out their own fantasies. But the every inquisitive reader wants to know more about the authors they read. So a little glimpse into who I am isn’t too hard to give.

Some, authors and readers, may balk at my admission, but my question to them would be why? I don’t question, complain, or go all crazy on gay authors who write M/M romance. It’s safe to say they’re into that lifestyle. So would lesbian authors who write F/F romance. I know there are cases where the author writes pure fiction. I mean paranormal romance writers don’t really shift into werewolves or werebears or pumas. But to an extent, those authors write about them because in the back or maybe forefront of their minds they’re thinking, “how cool it would be to be able to shift into another form.”

So, when we get questions, like ‘Are you into . . .’ And follow up questions like, well why do you write it if you don’t live it? Step back, smile that secret smile and tell them the truth, well half-truth, or just let your smile be your answer.

Excerpt from chapter 10 of Diamonds Aren’t Forever

Yes, she silently cried. “Upstairs, now,” Sebastian growled, stepping back.

Tee’s long strides took them up the stairs and into what Peyton assumed was his bedroom in seconds. Her feet hit the floor. Two sets of hands divested her of her clothes in record time.

Cool air raised goose bumps on her already heated skin. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Mercy, every inch of her was exposed to their eyes. And they stared at her like hungry gators. Peyton took a step back, feeling prey to their predators.

“Uh uh, chère.” Sebastian shook a finger at her, his feral grin widening. “Stand still and take your punishment.” He pulled the white t-shirt over his head revealing his wide chest and washboard abs.

“Punishment?” Peyton croaked, not sure if it was because of fright or need tightening in her belly at the sight of Bastian’s naked torso.

“Das right.” Tee grinned just as wickedly. Already shirtless, he hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans. “Tonight you’re gonna get what’s comin’ to you.”

Peyton shuddered at the implication. “Tee, Bastian,” she implored, inching away from them. Apprehension and passion filled her. She took another step back. Heat bloomed between her legs and spread through her entire body. She should be afraid not turned on. She wasn’t the kind of girl who got turned on at the thought of being punished, was she?

Their intense gazes rooted her to the spot. Her mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert. “No use, bébé,” they said in unison, circling her, boxing her in.

Peyton squeaked in surprise when Bastian caught her around the waist, tugging her into his hard chest. “You walked in here of your own free will. Now you’re ours.” His warm moist lips rained kisses and nips over her cheek and jaw.

Bastian’s big hands turned her, pulling her back into his hard chest. His lips and teeth skimmed her shoulder, pausing at the juncture, gently biting the tender flesh then soothed it with his tongue. Peyton sucked in a much needed breath, Pain and pleasure shot through her body.

She watched with bated breath as Tee sank to his knees, capturing one breast in his mouth. Peyton’s mouth formed an O, but no air filled her lungs. Tee gently suckled, his tongue teasing the diamond hard nipple. Her core to tighten. When he bit, Peyton’s pulled in much needed oxygen.

Confusion filled Peyton at their sensual assault. “I . . . I,” she gasped her pleasure. It thrummed through her in ripples. “I thought you were going to punish me.”

“Oh I am, chère.” Bastian’s breath caressed her neck as he continued, “I’m gonna to make this ass of yours nice and red.

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