Author interview

I am pleased to introduce this month’s author being interviewed is Amy Valenti, someone else who loves bondage….

Just what is it about bondage, pain-play and barked commands that make a submissive fall to her knees? Amy Valenti is captivated by the dominance and submission dynamic, and her books mainly feature growly, dominant men with feisty yet submissive women. Occasionally she likes to write about hot Dom-on-Domme action and ménage involving two dominant partners with one lucky female sub.

About You

If you had one item to take into the bedroom with you what would it be?

A long coil of rope! I absolutely love getting tied up, though it hasn’t happened as many times as I’d like. And there are so many versatile ways to use it. ;)

(I know exactly what you mean!)

Favourite rainy day activity?

Reading in a comfy chair with a hot cup of tea by my side. There’s nothing better. We have a skylight in our living room and the sound of the rain pattering on it is lovely.

One thing about yourself you would like to change?

I’d love to procrastinate less, but I’ve yet to find anyone who’s found a cure for putting things off!

(Haha!)

Your Writing

Tell us about your latest book.

I’ve just re-released an older book of mine, named Dominance

 and Deception. It’s kind of a crime procedural mixed with a developing BDSM relationship between a dominant police detective and a submissive forensic technician. They get pretty deep into it despite a few compatibility problems, and outside forces take their toll, but they love each other and that’s what gets them through. It was really fun to revisit it.

(Sounds intriguing!)

What are you currently working on, or what’s on the horizon?

I’m dabbling in paranormal at the moment – a story about vampiric creatures who feed off pain and the submissives they bond with. I’m not sure if that’s the one that’s coming out next, and if it does, it’ll be under a different pseudonym (Nicola Collard), but I’ll see what happens. I’m also supposed to be working on the third novel in my Denial series, tentatively called Not Your Damn Toy.

What’s the hardest part of writing?

The temptation is to say ‘the writing’, but that would be too easy! Probably staying focused on one story at a time. I like to jump around from project to project, but when I do that I never get anything done, so I have to be strict with myself. I’m not sure if that makes me more productive or less, some days…

Quick Fire round

Turquoise or mauve?

Turquoise.

A juicy grilled steak with garlic butter or vanilla & raspberry cheesecake with white chocolate?

Oooh, tough one! Right now I’ll say the steak. Which makes me feel terrible because I try not to eat anything more intelligent than a chicken.

(Haha!)

Flogging or paddling?

Flogging, definitely. LOVE it.

Finally

Links of how fans can find you on the internet/buy your books?

Website: http://www.amyvalenti.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AmyValentiErotica

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AmyValenti

Amazon page: http://www.amazon.com/Amy-Valenti/e/B006FWJT5Y

And here is an excerpt from Dominance and Deception:

“Try to get free.”

Obediently, Faye writhed on the bed, tugging at the handcuffs that restrained her wrists and the silk scarves I’d used to tie her ankles to the bedposts.

“Can’t, Sir,” she said, half smiling, half apprehensive, as if she was unsure whether the response would lead to reward or punishment. Hell, with Faye, the punishment usually was the reward.

I didn’t keep her in suspense. “Good.”

When I brought the riding crop up into her line of sight, her eyes widened and she bit her lip, a shiver of anticipation thrilling through her body. I paused for a second, giving her time to back out if she needed to, making no attempt to hide the way my eyes swept over every part of her.

“Are you ready?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes on the crop. Shaking a tendril of damp hair from her cheek before answering, she nodded.

“Yes, Sir.” The words were just barely whispered.

The way she submitted, unquestioning, to my authority made me want to throw aside the crop right then. I needed to be inside her, needed to hear her beg for release, needed to lose control completely. But not yet. The scene had yet to be played out.

Faye looked from the crop to my face, and from the slight upward quirk of her eyebrow I could tell she’d caught on to my train of thought.

“Or we could just…” she said softly, shifting seductively against the mattress.

Snapped back into my role, I stared her out until she stilled and broke eye contact.

A flicker of amusement remained in her voice as she conceded, “I’m sorry, Sir. I was out of line.”

“You’re damn right,” I said, and without warning cracked the crop down onto her breast, just below the nipple.

She yelled with combined pleasure and pain, attempting to suppress the grin on her face.

I paused to let the blow register, knowing she was hardly even trying to be properly submissive. Most of the time she let it wash over her, sinking so far into the state that it took time for her to come back from it. Tonight she was in a playful mood of a completely different kind—cheerfully insolent and willing to take all the punishment I could mete out. I already knew she’d let me whip her until she was sore all over, then defy me for just a little longer, setting her tolerance for pain against my willingness to give it.

I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.

Faye looked down at the red mark rising on her flesh, then up at me. “That the best you can do, Sir?”

I raised the crop, never letting my pissed-off façade slip. “I haven’t even started—”

Faye’s phone rang, the unexpected sound disorientating us both. She groaned, scowling at the offending object as if it was sentient.

“Damn it! Not now!” She tugged expectantly at her handcuffs. “Okay, let me out of these.”

I stood there, impassive, and she rolled her eyes.

“Zach, seriously. Someone’s probably dead and we’ll have to go to work.”

I knew she was right, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. Dropping the crop and stepping over the tangle of our clothing, I crossed to the dresser and checked the caller ID. Sure enough, it was Santoro. For a brief moment, I entertained the irrational thought of firing him, but it passed.

Without releasing Faye from her bonds, I hit the speakerphone button to answer the call.

After taking a deep breath to steady her breathing, she spoke. “Santoro, this better be good. I’m a little tied up right now.”

Thank you for being interrogated, Amy!