Smoocher's Voice: Blog Tour: K.C. Wells and A Dance for Domination

We'd like to Welcome K.C. Wells to the blog. She was asked to blog about:

What you gained – and lost – by taking a risk.

Last year was a pretty momentous year in my life.

I’d been writing since February 2012, and by the end of that year, I had one book published, I’d contracts for two more and I’d written a fourth book, the first of my Collars & Cuffs series, An Unlocked Heart. 2013 was shaping up nicely.

Until my day job went pear-shaped. (For all you American readers, that’s a Britishism. It means that something went badly wrong)

I’m not about to go into it all. But if you’ve read Love Lessons Learned, when John is suspended? Yeah, that was me. And it hit me hard. I lost weight. I couldn’t sleep. After a week or so of this, I began to throw myself into my writing. It kept me busy. I became a writing machine. During the three months of my suspension I wrote Trusting Thomas, Waiting for a Prince and Someone to Keep Me with Parker Williams, a.k.a Will Parkinson. Yeah, I was a busy girl. I went to visit my father and stepmother in the south of France that Easter, and within a few hours of landing in Montpellier, I found myself sitting on their patio and having a frank conversation, which began with the words, “You know you can’t go back to teaching on that island, don’t you?”

I knew, all right. After one pupil had made a comment to me as I crossed the school grounds to the Head Teacher’s office, yeah, there was no way I could go back there. And I was scared to death. I’d been a teacher all my working life, all twenty-three years of it. What else could I do? I had a degree in French and Spanish, so maybe translating?

Then my dad asked The question. “Can you make the writing pay?”

Wow.

I’d been asking myself the same question. I’d spoken with a good author friend, Sue Brown, about whether I could earn enough with my writing to pay the mortgage. My salary paid all the household bills. She said it could be done, with a lot of work. So I repeated our conversation to my dad.

He thought for a moment or two. Then he told me that maybe my teaching career had come to an end. He and my stepmother had been worried during the last two years by how stressed I’d become. The previous year had been so stressful, I’d lost half my hair. They both felt I needed to do something different. Was writing it?

At this point my first two books were out. I hadn’t received anything from my publisher because we are paid quarterly, and I probably wouldn’t see anything until the second quarter of the year, after June. I had no idea if I could make this pay. All I had to go on were the four contracts I had with Dreamspinner Press. They must have thought the books would sell, right?

But for the first time, I considered a life not teaching. And for the first time in weeks, I slept that night, and the next day I felt so relaxed. No more teaching. It was an indication of how much the job was stressing me out that the thought of NOT doing it anymore filled me with calm.

Then the worries set in. I knew how much I’d need to earn each month to pay the bills. Then there was the whole conversation that I’d have to have with the husband. I knew Dad was right. It felt like the right decision. All I had to do now was work out how to bring in the money.

I returned to the UK and sat down with the hubby to discuss it. I could see he was shocked that I was considering giving up teaching. But when he suggested looking for teaching jobs on the mainland, or in different schools, I started crying. I’d accepted that I WAS NOT going back into teaching. We talked about translating. I contacted Dreamspinner about doing some translation work for them.

And then I decided that I’d self publish for the first time. I wrote Making it Personal and asked Sue Brown for recommendations for an editor and cover designer. That brought me into contact with S.A. Meade and Meredith Russell, and I am still working with them today. We’ve developed a good rapport, and I was lucky enough to meet Meredith at the UK Meet.

So when my disciplinary hearing arrived, it was about twelve days after I’d published Making it Personal. And I’d been floored by the response. I went into the hearing feeling relaxed, because if it all went to hell in a hand basket, there WAS an option. As it turned out, I wasn’t fired, but as soon as I got out of the meeting, I asked my union rep to help me bring an end to my contract.

I’d made the decision. I was going to write full-time.

Looking back, although it was a scary experience, my suspension was the best thing that could have happened. Because now I LOVE my job. I get to do something I love. I’m relaxed. No stress. And rather than being tied to school holidays, I’ve been able to travel. At the end of March this year, the hubby and I went to Florida to stay with my very good friend, Max Vos.

Yes, I can pay the bills. My dad was worrying about this recently, so I assured him that everything was fine. Some months are better than others, but the bills are always paid. The ideas for books keep coming – the only problem I have these days is that there aren’t enough hours in the day to write them all!

Yes, it was a risk. When I made the decision to write full-time, I didn’t have much success to go on. That summer, An Unlocked Heart came out and wow…. Readers loved it. The success of that book and Making it Personal was validation that I’d made the right decision. I read an article just last week by a guy who said that female romance writers could only write because they were backed up by their husbands’ salaries, so they were able to indulge their ‘hobby’. I won’t tell you what I said (out loud) when I read that. THIS writer watches every single book’s progress because my books pay the bills. But yeah, I definitely made the right decision, risky though it was.

*smiles*

Book Name: A Dance with Domination

Author Name: K.C. Wells

Author Bio: Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C.Wells always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way.

K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, where the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings – writing about men in love was even hotter...

K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career.

The laptop still has no idea of what hit it... it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.

Author Links: K.C. can be reached via email (k.c.wells@btinternet.com), on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/KCWellsWorld) or through comments at the K.C.Wells website (www.kcwellsworld.com ) K.C. loves to hear from readers.

Twitter: @IslandTalesPress

Cover Artist: Paul Richmond

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Blurb(s): Recently returned to the UK after living in the States since he was eleven, Andrew Barrett is determined to keep busy and make a new life for himself. He works full time as a copywriter and strips at a club on Canal Street on weekends. But it still leaves him too much time to think. Then he finds the BDSM club, Collars & Cuffs, where at twenty-nine, he is their youngest Dom. Young doesn't mean inexperienced, however. All this activity keeps him focused with no time to dwell on the past. But the past has a way of intruding on the present.

It's been four long years since Gareth Michaels last set foot inside Collars & Cuffs. But when he finally summons his courage and steps back into his former world, he finds the man who drove him away is still a member, and what’s more, he wants Gareth back. Two men in pain need the freedom they find in each other, but it takes another man's horrific plans to make them see it.

Excerpt: Excerpt

“When you’re ready, Andrew.” Leo gave him a nod.

Andrew acknowledged him, took a breath, and then faced Dorian, who held himself motionless as Andrew circled around him, inspecting him from every angle. “Good evening, Dorian. I am Master Andrew. For this evening, you will address me as Sir. What are your safewords?”

“Thunder is for stop, Sir, and lightning is for slow down.” Dorian gazed steadfastly at the floor.

Andrew picked up the cotton ropes. “Have you ever been restrained before, using the technique of Shibari?”

“No, Sir.” Dorian spoke quietly.

Andrew unfurled a coil of rope. “I usually do a full-body suspension when I demonstrate this technique, so I don’t propose to make this a full demonstration. That would take hours. You should find it comfortable but confining—and if I do it correctly, you’ll make a very pretty picture.” Dorian quirked his eyebrows, and Andrew smiled. “Shibari should always be aesthetically pleasing to the eye. It’s not just about bondage.” He stood before Dorian. “On your back on the table, boy.” Dorian complied immediately, getting up gracefully from the floor and climbing onto the bondage table.

Andrew pushed Dorian’s left leg back toward his arse, so that his heel met the curve of his buttock. He took the first length of rope and wound it around his upper thigh, close to the groin, securing ankle and thigh together and tying it in an intricate knot. He repeated the process on the other side. Then he tied another rope around each leg, this time closer to the knee.

Andrew pulled Dorian to his knees and placed his hands behind him. He picked up the blindfold and a set of orange foam ear defenders and showed them to the boy.

“I’m going to take away two of your senses now,” he told the sub in a low voice that only Dorian could hear. “You’ll be able to speak, but only safewords. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” Dorian’s voice was clear and firm.

Andrew slipped the blindfold over his eyes. “I’m going to insert foam ear plugs into your ears. Remember, if you want me to stop, or if you have a problem, use your safewords. I will always be right here.”

“Yes, Sir.” Dorian appeared calm, in a state of complete readiness.

Andrew compressed the foam plugs and placed them carefully into Dorian’s ears, watching them expand to fill the cavities. He took a longer length of rope as he prepared to form the harness down Dorian’s torso. He worked slowly, methodically, making sure each section looked perfect before moving on to the next, until Dorian had an intricate series of knots all down his front. He knew that each pull of the ropes over his skin was heightening the experience for Dorian. Andrew was pleased. The white ropes looked good against Dorian’s creamy skin, passing over his shoulders and around his arms, down his torso, and at the uppermost part of the thigh where leg met groin, slipping past his balls.

Dorian kept still as Andrew worked in silence, making sure with every knot that Dorian was comfortable and in no sign of physical or mental distress. When the harness was complete, Andrew stepped back to survey it critically, adjusting a knot here, a length there. The boy looked beautiful. Only one thing left to complete before I begin. He picked up the leather boot laces and smiled to himself.

Andrew stood in front of the sub and slowly trailed the thin strips of leather over Dorian’s balls and cock. Dorian gave a slight shiver but then became still, his body tense as he awaited Andrew’s next move. Andrew grabbed Dorian’s balls and pulled on them, feeling the shudder which rippled through him. He tied the strip around and around the balls in his hand, separating them from the shaft. He ran his fingers over the sac, knowing full well that the stretch made Dorian’s balls extremely sensitive. Andrew wrapped his hand around Dorian’s cock and stroked him gently, watching as he hardened, loving the hitch in his breathing. When his dick pointed skyward, Andrew looped another length around his cock and balls, fashioning a leather cock ring around the base of his shaft until Dorian’s dick was red and throbbing, looking painfully hard. Dorian let out a low moan and bit his lower lip.

Andrew crossed to the table and placed the banjo picks on each fingertip of one hand. He stood beside Dorian, ensuring that Leo and Thomas had a clear view, and then trailed the picks down the boy’s arm, feeling the brief start as the slivers of metal connected with his skin. Andrew trailed his fingers over Dorian’s neck before moving slowly over his back between the ropes, keeping his touch light. Then he moved to stroke his inner thighs, noting the shivers which rippled through Dorian as he brought his fingers higher, not quite reaching his balls.

Dorian quivered as Andrew stroked along his inner arms, before moving ever so slowly down his torso, running his fingers over the ropes, over the taut belly, until he arrived at the boy’s groin. Andrew moved slowly, scraping the picks lightly over his skin, noting Dorian’s shivers as he stroked along his cock. When he cupped the boy’s balls and rippled his fingers over them, Dorian couldn’t repress the shudder that jolted through him. Andrew toyed with his sac and cock, hearing his soft whimpers as the metal danced over the sensitized areas. Dorian’s lips parted, but no words came out, only sounds. Andrew ran both hands simultaneously across Dorian’s back, watching the sub as he tried to arch away from his touch.

Andrew moved his hands away and took off the picks, only to return with the spiked wheel. He paused, waiting until Dorian was still once more, before running the tiny wheel over his thigh. Dorian gasped as the wheel moved over his skin, tiny pinpricks of sensation. Andrew moved the wheel away and reapplied it over Dorian’s chest, rolling it close to his nipple. The sub squirmed as Andrew ran the wheel around his nipple, leaned closer, gripped the other between his fingers, and twisted it slightly. That got a definite reaction. Dorian hissed as he drew in a breath, the sharp intake becoming a groan when Andrew moved the spiked wheel ever-so- slowly along the length of his cock. He trembled as Andrew applied the wheel to different areas, making sure the sub never knew where it would land next. When he’d reduced Dorian to a squirming mass, Andrew grabbed the cup of ice.

Dorian whimpered as Andrew ran an ice cube over his balls, and it became a low cry as Andrew simultaneously applied the ice to his nipple. “Oh, fuck.” The words seemed dragged from him involuntarily. Andrew circled Dorian, trailing the ice randomly over his skin, watching him fight to control his reactions. Dorian twitched nervously, his body tense as he awaited the next sensual onslaught.

Andrew put the banjo picks back on his fingers and ran his hand over Dorian’s back once more, watching him shudder as he moved lower, stroking over the globes of his arse and nearing his hole. He slid a single finger from under his balls to the tip of his cock. Memories assaulted him, as suddenly he was right there in Dorian’s place.

I’m doing everything you taught me, Sir, he told Blade in his head. God, I remember you doing this to me. I remember that searing, white-hot feeling that made me feel like I was coming when I knew I wasn’t. He smiled to himself. Fuck, you were such a tease, Blade.

Dorian was panting, and Andrew pulled back, not wanting to rush it. He intended to bring the boy to the edge again and again. When Dorian had calmed a little, Andrew was back, scraping his finger over the boy’s hole, feeling the tremors that rippled through his body, his mouth opening slightly but no sounds issuing. Dorian’s cock was rigid. Andrew grabbed another piece of ice and moved it slowly over Dorian’s arse until it reached his hole. The boy stiffened as he ran the cube around the rim before pushing insistently, the heat from Dorian’s hot little hole melting the ice as he eased it into his anus. Dorian cried out, a low, urgent sound, and he arched his back, as though trying to escape the sensations which Andrew knew were coursing through his body right now.

And then it was Brian kneeling before him, Brian moaning as Andrew pressed ice inside him.

Oh hell—the sounds you made when I did this to you. I knew you weren’t okay with it, not at first, but you soon forgot about the discomfort when it was my bare, hot cock sliding into you. Andrew closed his eyes momentarily, the images there in the forefront of his mind. He shook himself as the memories came thick and fast, some so painful that he caught his breath. Not now. Can’t think of him now.

Buy Link:

Dreamspinner

a Rafflecopter giveaway