Thanks for having me here today to talk about my new book! This story is loosely related to my previous release, Woman as a Foreign Language, and like that one, is very much a reflection on identity. It is a story about split personalities, shattered personalities, hidden personalities, and changing personalities.
There is Di, whose whole sense of self revolved about her tough, outdoorsy life, training and riding horses. When a near-fatal car accident turns her into an invalid, it is more than just bones that are broken, it’s her whole sense of worth.
Raphael is a whole collection of personality traits all by himself, and all these personalities come into disastrous conflict as his female self, Lucie, blossoms into a complete new person who needs to find expression…
And there is Hugh, who might appear as a pretty solid no-nonsense Dominant type of guy, but has a whole hidden turmoil of emotions under his tough skin, one that even his sub of over fifteen years knows little about.
It was a beautiful challenge to unravel all these tangles and weave them together again as Di discovers a new sense of self, Raphael and Lucie find a balance and a modus vivendi, and Hugh’s hidden demons find a way out in the light.
(Be warned: cross-dressing, gender-queer, explicit M/M and M/F sex, anal sex, spanking, flogging, bondage, forced orgasm, sex toys.)
And here's a (quite steamy!) excerpt:
Raphael stroked in perfect tempo. He was one of the most technically exact musicians Hugh had ever played with, after all. Too exact, in fact.
It would do him so much good to let go a bit, to just go with the flow, be wild and imprecise and purely passionate. Then he would not need so much of this.
Tick—tock—tick—tock—tick—tock, went the metronome, and Raphael stroked and stroked. It was a good while before Hugh could tell, from a small furrow between those blond eyebrows, that the unchanging, slow rhythm was beginning to frustrate him. He smiled a bit wider and said nothing, devouring his beautiful quarry with his eyes. He watched, entranced the fluid play of flesh and skin as Raphael’s long pale cock, a nice ruddy purple by now, sank and reemerged into and from his fist, the velvet-like foreskin lapping beautifully over the shinier, silky glans, the testicles bouncing softly to the rhythm as the scrotum was pulled up and released. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw the whole scene to the devil and just take that cock in his mouth and suck it empty.
This is without exception the best use a metronome was ever put to.
Raphael’s body was developing a number of small, charming tics and twitches. He briefly lifted his left knee from the mattress then relaxed again. His right wrist was pulling on the strap from time to time, and his breath was coming in slightly ragged bursts.
Still it took a long time. Too much control, thought Hugh, smiling. Tsk-tsk.
You can also find an exclusive excerpt on Katherine's website.
Find Spice & Vanilla at Evernight.
Or on Amazon.
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