I used to see myself as an innocent sort of girl. Fairly unassuming. Not too dirty minded. The truth was hammered home last year on the publication of my first novel, Bound for the Forest, when I read the list of warnings. Among the BDSM themes and elements listed was ‘sex in partly shifted tree form.’ Okay. I might have accidentally written that, and looking back, I recall it was one of the easiest scenes to create.
So, hello world and welcome to my lurid imagination. Truth is, I thoroughly enjoy writing sex, and the challenge of writing erotic romance—one that I relish—is to make sex different and fresh from scene to scene and book to book, to never have your characters make love in the same way twice. Partly to rise to this challenge, I enjoy getting my characters to try some rather kinky stuff, and because I write fantasy and paranormal, the sky’s the limit. My new release, Bound to the Beast, doesn’t have a warning for ‘sex with the weather,’ but it might just contain a scene along those lines, as well as some creative use of apples and ginger, and, err, antler porn.
But kink and fruit alone do not make sex new and exciting. Lovemaking is psychological as well as physical. It’s when truths and hearts are laid bare as well as bodies. For me, the sex has got to be a key part of the characters’ emotional journey. It doesn’t matter if the story contains just a couple of kisses or a thousand exotic sexual couplings, as long as those scenes take those two (or three or four!) people to a new stage of their relationship–whether good or bad. In which case, a searing kiss, or even a touch or a look, can say as much as the longest sex scene. It’s an important point to bear in mind, but it probably won’t stop me trying to imagine wild new scenarios to move my lovers’ stories’ onward. It’s just too much like fun!
Thank you so much Raine for letting me blog here today.
Bound to the Beast (A Greenwood novel) by Kay Berrisford. Published by Loose Id. Art work by Anne Cain.
Genres: m/m, paranormal, fantasy, BDSM, historical. Novel, 68,000 words.
Blurb: England, 1588. When a fairy betrothal ritual goes wrong, village lad Tam is bonded to Herne the Hunter. Warrior, legend, and Greenwood spirit, Herne once led the terrifying Wild Hunt, an army of the undead who rode as harbingers of doom. When his passions are stirred and his blood is up, Herne sports the antlers of a mighty stag.
Herne could be the lover Tam secretly craves, but Herne’s past makes him fear the brooding warrior will enslave or kill him. While Herne admires Tam’s toughness and humor, he has rejected love—as he has sworn off leading the Wild Hunt—and wishes only for solitude. To break their betrothal, they must travel into the Greenwood, a realm of magic and bondage where their desires for each other grow dangerously irresistible, and the Wild Hunt bays for their blood.
As the threat rises, Herne’s mastery and compassion realize Tam’s darkest sexual fantasies. Soon he’s no longer fighting for his freedom, wishing to be bound to this beast forever. But can Herne’s tortured heart be reawakened? And if so, will their love destroy them both, or prove Herne the Hunter’s greatest weapon?
In an instant, Tam clambered into Herne’s lap, arms circling about his neck. But far from an attempt to throttle him as Herne expected, Tam littered kisses along the line of his jaw, murmuring as he lingered.
“Lord, I hate you as much as your damnable story makes me want to—gnng!” He bit the lobe of Herne’s ear, nearly hard enough to draw blood. “Listen, man.” He spoke breathlessly between sucks. “If this night is all we have, if my time is so short…then I want to be with you as much as I can. Agh!”
Easing him off, Herne held him at arm’s length, their knees pressing into a patch of soft dirt between the stone and the nettles. The lad breathed unsteadily, his eyes vibrant with waxing desire. Faint in the distance, thunder sounded, echoed by the hoarse voice of a crow and the whirl of the bats about the ruins. Ah, the Wild Hunt loved to ride out beneath a summer storm, but he refused to listen for them. This terrible heat had to break.
“I swear,” he told Tam, shaking him. “You will know many more nights, and you will find joy with others. Now you must turn the spit, or the meat will spoil.”
“I don’t care. Let it burn.”
Plunging forward, Tam was as keen as his words. He urged Herne into a slow, yearning kiss, kindling grief, despair, and the barest inklings of happiness. His warrior’s frame firmed against Tam’s smaller body, enveloping him so naturally they might have been born to fit together.
Herne pressed his eyes shut, throwing everything into the kiss, holding Tam so tightly he could scarcely move, tasting, consuming, and devouring him. Tam parted his lips wider and yielded to the onslaught, while Herne’s thoughts flew briefly to the vision he’d experienced as he’d searched the forest. Tam had implored him to master him, had offered him every pleasure—and then transformed into that damned holly bush, just as Herne began to understand Tam was all he’d ever wanted.
The real Tam governed him now. A lover who desired him as much as Herne craved him, for the first time in so long.
For the first time ever.
He felt as if a fine thread wove through his chest and Tam’s, drawing them tight and demanding they never broke apart. As he comprehended the lad’s carnal needs more and more, his body heated and hardened, and his pulse quickened. He saw a flash of white light, and his antlers split forth from his skull. Kissing on through the pain, he plundered all the deeper. When he finally broke the kiss, they both gasped for air. His antlers grew weighty, and his blood raced. He must be careful now.
“Did you not understand me, boy? I am dangerous to you.”
“I know.” Still Tam grew unrestrained. “But at the very least…let me taste you.”
Ripping apart the front of Herne’s coat, Tam trailed kisses up his throat, along the line of his jaw. Nobody had ever kissed him with such fervor, and the soft brush of the lad’s lips brought a lump to Herne’s throat, a pang of desperation. Tam tasted briefly again of Herne’s lips before he tore away and scrambled up from the dirt. Tam grasped his antlers before Herne knew what struck him.
He jolted, his first instinct to push the lad away, but then he stilled. With soft fingers, Tam traced his spreading branches, stroking to his very tips.
“Beautiful.” Tam’s heavy breaths nearly drowned his word, and Herne groaned. He felt only slight sensations from his bone protuberances, but Tam’s touch reverberated straight to his aching cock.
“What are you doing?” Herne’s voice fell to a lust-laden husk.
“I hardly know,” replied Tam, leaning in. He sucked in one horned tip of an antler, and Herne’s senses spun. Tam rolled his tongue around the blunted end, closing his eyes, clearly savoring the sensation. Herne stared at the lad, who worshipped him with his mouth, relishing his flavor. Sweet Goddess, the steel rod between his legs wept. He could not bring himself to stop the lad.
Buy it now link: http://www.loose-id.com/The-Greenwood-Bound-to-the-Beast.aspx
Kay’s blog: http://kayberrisford.com/bound-to-the-beast/