Dreams on paper

Wed, 08 Jan 2020 20:01:00 +0000

Wed, 25 Dec 2019 09:48:00 +0000

Sun, Dec 15, 2019 at 7:00 PM +0000

Wed, 27 Nov 2019 15:51:00 +0000

The first part of Fruit Lovers has just been published. Each volume is self-contained and is about a different couple.

Sun, Nov 17, 2019 at 6:45 PM +0000

I teamed up with Vivian Hall. In addition to our own novels, we will publish together under the pseudonym Josie Jones.

It also continues with the calipers, as well as with the Touch series. But after the many extensive revisions, I needed a little break from the world of Maestros and Schiavas.

First we planned the Fruit Lovers series.

The first volume will appear in a few days under the title: Pop my Cherry, Mr. Sinclair.

Vivian is more to me than a friendly author. She is a friend, a soul mate and the same goes for Ivy Paul. The three of us value ourselves very much and love that we do not always agree. Diversity complements and harmonizes wonderfully with each other.

Here I have the cover, the blurb and a first teaser for you:

Wed, 09 Oct 2019 07:43:00 +0000

There was no magic formula for him and he did not allow her to treat him with cool superiority. He wanted her hot lust in its purity, and he would get it without a doubt. It was just a matter of time, after all, he fine-tuned his approach to their needs until every nuance harmonized. Roger had fallen upon her like a tornado from the first second, breaking Kate down into parts to analyze, examine them closely, so that he could reveal their most intimate secrets like delicate blossoms. In the meantime, she just had to fall in love with him, because he cared for and looked after her like the vulnerable structure that she appeared to be, even though she had never seen herself like that. On his way through her body and mind, he aroused longings and desires in her that had been in a peaceful slumber before him, except in harmless erotic fantasies that she had only shown herself. However, these reveries were a pale reflection of reality and could not prepare them for Roger, a maestro who found fulfillment in their bittersweet devotion.

Because of him, she longed for pain, for submission, for a loss of control, so that the confusion inside her finally came to a standstill. But she wouldn’t admit it.

At least not immediately!

This sneaky manipulator.

Grinning smugly, he had whispered it after dragging her into this room with the help of his friend John Sullivan.

She moved the cramped shoulder muscles, and the leather wrapped around her neck reminded her clearly who was in charge of this exciting adventure. Kate tried to find a more comfortable position, not to give in to the urge to scream again. But their intentions proved impossible. Leather cuffs tied her wrists behind her back and he had pulled a rope through the back ring of the collar and tied the rope not only to her cuffs but also to a ring embedded in the floor. He and John had forced her into this kneeling position, these infamous traitors. Kate had jumped into the well-prepared trap, head first, without being able to stop it, because anger and jealousy were raging in her heart at the time, effectively overriding her intellect. Her greed prevented her from stammering red, the one word that would immediately end everything.

Sweat dripped between her breasts and her spine. Even though she couldn’t see Roger, Kate felt his attention. He watched her, appraised her to consider the next step. His cursed code did not allow a bound Schiava to be left unattended.

The sonorous expression that meant so much and which she was not allowed to match because she failed herself. She was in a dilemma and Roger would not let her go until she poured his heart out to him, explaining to him why she couldn’t have him. This man was not satisfied with less. The thought appeased and troubled her at the same time because there was a danger that she would follow him wherever he led, without being given the chance to shy away from him. She couldn’t lie to herself or him, let alone hide the truth from him: trusting him and wanting to drop, not only that night but as long as she breathed.

Roger knew what kind of emotions he was going to get out of her. He would not do it gently, instead with that delicious hardness that wrested a scream of anger that came from deep despair because he had long since won the battle for her. She yearned for his hand on her ass until the sea of ​​fire finally turned her mind off again, reducing her to feeling, without questioning the slightest thing. Only he could do it.

It would be so easy to admit it, but loving it didn’t fit in with her plan, taking her away from the goal she had set for herself. She couldn’t take it easy. She had to fight for the reward as much as he did. But she took the first step mentally on the new path, felt the temptation clearly. The very thought of it made her nipples swell to hard tips. She craved that he first spanked her bottom, then forced her to come, and then fucked her – in that order. But she would do a devil and ask him to. To stay with the truth, it would not be demands on your part, but an honest, fervent supplication. No orders were given to a maestro with impunity.

If he wanted her, he would have to make an effort, so thoroughly, until he would be as sweaty as she was.

"Well, Doc, have you wallowed enough in your self-pity and indulged enough in your anger?" Even his voice attracted her and unconsciously leaned against her, those deep balanced syllables that made her shudder.

Kate pressed her lips together to stop any sound that wanted to get out of her throat. This satisfaction, which dripped from his tone like honey, could be smeared elsewhere.

He stepped out of the shadows and she stared at his hand, which was casually holding a whip with a smack at the top. Black leather that appeared as dark as its wearer. Still, Kate sought to be swallowed up by this darkness.

Defiantly, she raised her head as far as the bondage allowed. She would certainly not make it easy for him.

"You can do me once, you arrogant, self-righteous honk."

He didn’t make a face, just stared at her before he sighed deeply, bent down to her, and gripped her chin.

"Honk?" The corners of his mouth curled into a hint of a smile that catapulted her heartbeat into unexpected spheres. Delighted saw and sounded completely different. "I hope you have adequate tears and screams for me, Schiava, because I will try very hard to get enough of them out of you, to get them from you until I am satisfied with the result." He grinned broadly now. "The past four weeks have been the most miserable of my life and I intend to make you pay for it, Curly."

Not only the words themselves made her muscles quiver, but also how he accentuated each letter, as horribly tender as anyone could do bad things to someone.

"But you will enjoy it … in the end. You know that, don’t you? "

Kate swallowed hard, though her mouth was dry as dust. "Yes, Maestro." She couldn’t help but give him that terribly beautiful word.

"Schiava, should we start?" He grabbed the collar and pulled her forward until the rope tightened.

Four weeks earlier

Roger gritted his teeth and stared at the stupid beasts in the Sprinter’s rearview mirror. They looked so innocent and white, with no visible weaknesses, but at least one of them was really tough because he was plaguing him with hammer-like pain.

It wasn’t a tooth, it was a nasty ass!

After all, he could be glad that his friend John Sullivan had not personally tied him up and carted him to Dr Wayland. And he would have done it with extreme sadistic pleasure, there was nothing to shake about it, after all Roger had been putting the treatment on for a while. He had known Doc since he was a child, who had almost reached retirement age. However, Roger remained steadfastly loyal to him, because the relationship of trust between doctor and patient resembled the bond between Maestro and Schiava. You could also call a safe word at the dentist if the pain became unbearable. In contrast to a session, a stop or a scream was enough. A self-respecting maestro didn’t respond to a simple not, stop it, ouch, you pig !, even if it was sobbing heartbreakingly and tears streamed down delicate cheeks as the bottom went through all shades of red. His personal bestseller was called: Fifty Shades of Red. And screams had never stopped him, instead they spurred him on the more fervently they were launched.

Roger switched off the engine and his stomach fluttered with nervousness. There were really nicer appointments than seeing a torturer who came with drills and nasty syringes. Dentists were actually perfect sadists, who would do well in the circle of pens, the exclusive BDSM club that Sullivan brothers John, Dean and Miles founded and in which he and Tom Barber had a silent partnership. But somehow the signs of change were there, Roger felt, although he didn’t know why. Perhaps it was due to the discontent that had recently hit him, as if his inside really wanted to break through to the outside.

Who are you kidding? You know exactly where that comes from.

His friends may have longed for more in life, but his life crisis was based on his past, which had suddenly caught up with the force of a meteorite impact. Up until a second ago, he had denied the inner crisis to himself. So he hadn’t even spoken to his friends about it.

This crappy invitation to Caro’s wedding!

When he thought of the cream-colored envelope with the 3-D printing of the intertwined golden rings and the rose, his stomach cramped. Caro, the first and only love of his life. They had split up after five wonderful years because their goals were drifting apart. Caro had suddenly questioned everything they had built up after a vacation with a friend of the upper class. Honestly, that wasn’t very much from today’s perspective, but they were young and wanted to enjoy life before they set out their future in detail. In the end they had separated as good friends and he still seemed to love Caro a little. That had brought her invitation to mind. At first he thought he was jealous, but that wasn’t what bothered him. After separating from Caro, he had never really loved again and he had changed. The man who lived through the days had grown into a man who couldn’t show much when comparing himself to Caro. She was expecting twins and her future had inherited Scotland’s largest and most exclusive golf course from his family. Caro owned a chain of gyms and they probably spent their vacations in Aspen and the Seychelles.

He had been twenty-three when they separated, and his thirty-sixth birthday was just around the corner. Roger thought of the various game relationships that he had been able to enjoy during his dominant life. As seductive and sexy as they were, the woman for more hadn’t been there. He would probably never find the right one, because not knowing what you wanted was quite an obstacle.

"You will feel it as soon as you see it. Then you are ready to do anything just to get them, ”had been John’s words a few days ago. John apparently felt the same restlessness as he did. "Your heart will roll over your brain." He couldn’t imagine that with John or with himself. As if John Sullivan would ever do something stupid just because he fell in love.

In his youthful naivety, he had firmly believed that he could easily catch fire, because there were caros waiting for him on every corner with which he could spend his future. That had turned out to be a huge mistake. He had never felt this special tingling and his world never lit up at the sight of a woman. It was probably up to him alone, because he had gradually wiped out his sense of romance. Two years after the breakup, he had started planning everything down to the smallest detail and leaving nothing to chance. By now he was probably too analytical for love, so that this behavior nipped every feeling in the bud. He jumped back and forth too much to provide a suitable target for Cupid’s arrow. Cupid would also run away screaming from him while Roger chased him with a whip. The thought made him grin.

Actually there was no reason to be dissatisfied. His work really filled him up, because giving a run-down, neglected house a new shine filled him with pride and calm. His friends deserved this designation and he owned a home where he felt comfortable. After all, he had renovated it together with the Sullivan brothers and Tom until it was what he wanted. But Caro’s invitation unsettled him because she had caught him ice cold. Like a thunderstorm that suddenly came out of the night sky and hit its unprotected body until it reached its soul.

You should really talk to John about your emotions. There is no point in deciding everything with yourself.

John was their rock in the surf, who acted prudently with a few exceptions. At the moment, however, one of the exceptions haunted her, namely a tax auditor. She had to be a real bitch and it was John who was to blame. Advising her to park with the broom hadn’t been his smartest idea. They could also have had the cute edition, but the brothers and Tom had run away until it had rushed off the property at warp speed.

Roger had a clear idea of ​​examiners, all of whom were unnecessary plagues. Gray, dry, humorless virgins, wearing nettle panties to hide their thorned labia. What would it be like to subject a tax auditor to spanking and stimulating until she could no longer think clearly? It could count down a number of hits perfectly. The appeal of such a challenge drew his thoughts back to his frustration.

He undid the seat belt, opened the door, and got out. A bright blue sky greeted him and the temperature brought the first sign of the approaching spring. He could literally feel it, although it was still a little while before it happened. If he survived the treatment at Dr Wayland, the weather would be perfect to do some work in the country house they were renovating today. A beautiful parquet was waiting for him, which was living a sad life under a thick layer of paint. Was his heart buried under layers? It probably took heavy equipment to free it. Or extremely tender hands and sweet tears. It was also Friday today and he was able to relax on the weekend. Maybe Dean drove him to the antique market.

Roger crossed the street and walked up the three steps that led to the brick building where the practice was located. As soon as he opened the door, the typical dental smell wafted around him, of which he had no idea what exactly caused it. That was enough to make his heart beat faster.

As soon as he entered, Kristen smiled at him. The redhead was Dr Wayland’s niece and had a firm grip on the front desk. Her hair sparkled with every movement, but this was not her real color, but she looked better than the ash blonde.

"Good morning, Mr. Black. On time as always. "

"Good morning, Kristen. Can I go straight to the treatment room? "

"Yes, room two. But there is a little problem. My uncle is in bed with the flu. But we have a new doctor, Dr Kate Martin. I hope you don’t mind being treated by her. ”

"She will take over the practice in a few years and you are in good hands with her," Kristen assured.

"No problem. Room two? "

She nodded. "Helen is with you immediately, and Dr Martin is finished treating the patient."

Roger turned to the right and entered the treatment room, which was freshly painted in a delicate yellow, and the cream-colored treatment chair was also new. A picture of a sunflower field hung on the wall. However, he feared that the calming color scheme was in vain for many patients. Roger sat down and winced as the drill came from the next room.

Seconds later, Helen hurried into the room. The little girl robbed him of his own nervousness because she was afraid of him and could not hide it.

She was in her early twenties and had brown hair tied in a braid.

"Good morning, Mr. Black," she greeted him breathlessly.

"Helen! You look adorable. Do you have new glasses? "

She stared at him as if he had ordered her to undress. His powers of observation were intimidating to many people. He rarely missed anything, but this attribute was a basic requirement to be a Maestro in the circle of pens. They had been adequately trained and kept repeating the training. The wellbeing of the submissive part was always a top priority, without exception, even if he screamed his soul out and disagreed for a short time. But the slightest clue could mean the difference between a fulfilling or a hellish session. Damaged damage was usually difficult to repair, and sometimes it was never possible to assemble the destroyed parts, no matter how hard you tried. If the submissive part lost confidence, the effects turned out to be fatal. The same was true for the dominant side. There was nothing worse than a lying sub playing a charade for the top or at least trying and then collapsing. You never forgave something like that.

"My friend didn’t notice that she was new." Helen’s low voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Then he’s not paying enough attention."

He saw in her eyes that the relationship wasn’t making her happy, but she was too inexperienced to see it. The boy would break her heart. She reached for one of the paper towels and attached a clip to it that hung on a chain. Her hands clearly betrayed her uncertainty.

"May I?" In the meantime she was standing next to him, putting the cloth on his chest, passed the chain behind his head and, after three attempts, fixed the second clamp as she tried frantically not to touch him. Roger didn’t grin. A sound on the door caught his attention.

An elf lingered in the doorway and stared at him as if his sight tore the floor from under her feet. At first he thought she was a new assistant, but he corrected his impression at the same moment.

Her delicate body was in a sapphire blue cotton tunic and jeans, and the dark, wild curly head was an indication of the fiery person who wore it. She paused at the doorstep as soon as her eyes met and no longer separated. Roger felt as if he had crashed into a concrete wall before standing in front of her in a daze, seeing nothing other than Kate. He had never felt anything like it before. Not only was she petite, she was also small, and there were no hard edges or high cheekbones in her oval face.

It was the glow, the tingling, the racing pulse and all of that at the same time.

Kate first freed herself from the rigidity. She opened her mouth and licked her pinkish lower lip with her tongue before smiling at him.

Of course, she had dimples.

Fri, 27 Sep 2019 12:42:00 +0000

Here I have the new cover and a teaser for you.


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Christina Cherry
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