Making it Real – The Dark Side in Print, Ashe Barker
Today I’m visiting L.M. Brown’s blog, and it’s fantastic to be here. Thank you, L.M., for agreeing to host me today and let me share some of my random thoughts as The Dark Side emerges in print.
I love ebooks, and have done for years although I only actually got a kindle of my own a few weeks ago. Up till then I used my phone or my tablet for reading, and did fine, but I do love my kindle.
It was my mother’s birthday yesterday, and I had intended to buy her a kindle and put The Dark Side on it for her, plus a few other books I know she’d like. But from talking to her over the last few weeks as The Dark Side trilogy has come out for download from Amazon, it’s clear that just won’t do.
“Will I be able to print it off then? I want to show it to our Sybil.”
“How do I put my bookmark in – don’t want to lose my place?”
“What if I delete it by mistake? Will you still have your copy?”
So I gave her the print version, and she was over the moon. And if I’m honest, so was I. There’s something truly magical about holding your book in your hand, smelling the paper, seeing your own name on the cover and your own words inside. I won’t be parted from my kindle, definitely not, but my bookshelves won’t be getting any less crowded either.
I just had to shell out £2.70 in library fines. Still, that’s me back on the straight and narrow, able to once more hold my head up among the local ladies down in my village. And the library had a new crop of Lindsay Sands in so I’m well stocked with sexy vampires for the next little while. £2.70 judiciously invested.
And I couldn’t help thinking how cool it would be if my local library was to stock my stuff at some point in the distant future. What a buzz that would be – my books, all pretty in print and on the library shelf next to Christine Feehan, Lindsay, and J. R. ward. Awesome.
Right, back to work, pencils sharpened.
The Dark Side trilogy, charts the sensual journey of academic musician Eva Byrne as she struggles to overcome painful shyness, sexual inhibition, and personal tragedy. Lonely, unsophisticated, fragile, and desperately seeking love and approval, Eva is easy prey for sensual and experienced Nathan Darke.
He wants her submission, and he knows how to go about getting it. Eva is quickly caught up by the whirlwind of his effortless seduction, though she has her own reasons for agreeing to join him in his world of pain and pleasure, on The Dark Side.
Inexplicably fascinated and at the same time totally frustrated by his new submissive, Nathan is increasingly drawn to her as she opens up in his hands and he realises there is much, much more to his latest playmate than he ever could have imagined.
The Dark Side charts the turbulent relationship between Eva and Nathan as their mutual fascination builds. They both discover what surrender truly means as together they explore the fragile bonds of desire, trust, risk and reward, and the destructive power of betrayal.
Here’s a HOT excerpt from Darker. Enjoy…
At last I am still, lying back against him, his arms around me, one hand across my stomach, the other still between my legs, still lightly caressing me. Soothing me, reassuring me as my senses return. He kisses my ear, nuzzling his face in my hair, still loosely plaited, tendrils falling free around my face.
I feel the release of pressure on my nipples as he opens the clamps, removing them gently. He rolls the still painful tips between his fingers, encouraging the circulation back to normal. “Is this sore, love?” he asks as I wince under his hands.
“Yes, a little. But it was wonderful. Thank you. And thank you for the ice, at the beginning. I don’t think I could have managed it otherwise.” I twist my head to look up at him, into his deep, chocolate eyes. He is smiling, his expression tender, caring.
“I told you, Eva, that I’d stretch you, push you to your limits. But that I’d never hurt you more than you can bear. You needed the ice, this time. But next time, who knows?” His grin mischievous now, he leans down, plants a quick kiss on my lips, before pulling me upright in front of him. With a few deft tugs my hands and arms are free, and I realise how much they are aching as I pull them stiffly in front of me, rubbing my joints to get them loose and moving again. Nathan stands, pulling me to my feet. I notice with surprise that he is still fully dressed, and open my mouth to comment on that as he sweeps me into his arms. I decide to cling on instead as he strides across the room and through the door to his bedroom. He drops me in the middle of his huge bed, standing over me as he wastes no time in shedding his clothes. The shirt goes first, and my mouth waters as I admire his sculpted chest and defined abdomen muscles. His trousers are next, then his shorts, and his powerful, huge erection juts out at me.
The head of his penis is slick, a bead of moisture on the end. I reach out to touch it, to smooth it across the tip with my thumb as he so recently rubbed my nipples. With my other hand I cup his balls, heavy, taut, moving in my palm. I shift, intending to take him in my mouth, but this time he stops me, coming onto the bed to kneel over me, pressing me back against the duvet. His hands behind my knees, he parts my legs, positioning himself between them. He pushes my knees upwards, holding them either side of my chest, raising me up for better access, better entrance.
“Just a little gentle fucking now, Eva, does that sound nice to you?”
“Yes, that sounds very nice. But not too gentle. Please.”
“Anything to oblige.” He enters me quick, hard, deep. I feel his cock hit my cervix as his balls slap against my bottom. He is huge, wide. I feel my inner walls stretch to accommodate him, but there is no pain this time. He gives me a moment to adjust before starting to thrust. Slow at first, pulling right back almost out of me, then deeply, smoothly plunging fully into me once more, right to the hilt. I groan, writhe under him. He shifts slightly to get the perfect angle to hit that certain spot, and sets up a rhythm. I moan with pleasure as he strokes me smoothly, the friction delicious and delicate against my vagina, and the now familiar first tug of orgasm drifts across me. I squeeze him, crossing my ankles behind his waist to pull him farther in. His hands now free, he slips one between us to lay his thumb over my clit, every thrust causing the sensitive little bud to scrape against him. Quickly the pleasure builds until I shatter, crying out as I clench and convulse again, and he stiffens above me, holding himself very still for the few seconds it takes for my orgasm to pass.
When I am still again, my legs flat on the bed beneath him, he drops down, his weight on me, and takes my face between his palms. He kisses me, long and deep, not moving again, not yet, but still huge and hard inside me. After a few moments he pushes himself up, placing his knees under my bottom so I am lifted up, my hips draped across his thighs. He looks down at that spot where we are joined, then back into my eyes.
“So sweet, Eva, so fucking gorgeous.” Then with his hands resting in my groin he uses both his thumbs to stimulate my clit again, running them alternately along the swollen nub, from my entrance, now stretched fully open by his cock planted deep within me, towards the front. Continuously stroking, the pleasure is absolutely overwhelming. The intimacy of the gesture, the tender, caring, gentle caress so sweet I feel tears behind my closed eyelids.
In that moment I know for sure that I can, will, do love this man.
I’m so tired now I can hardly move in response to the waves of pure pleasure washing through me, but I know I don’t need to. He knows. He is watching me, and as my climax again rushes towards me he increases the pressure enough to send me spinning away once more, floating, shaking, convulsing until eventually I lie still. One very satisfied, very contented little sub.
Leaning over me once more, with a couple of sharp, hard thrusts, and a muffled curse, he is done. I feel his hot sperm shoot deep inside me, as the shudders ripple through his tight, hard muscles, the veins on his arms standing out as he strains against me, inside me. Then suddenly his arms give way and he drops onto me. I expect his full weight to pin me to the bed again, but at the last moment he rolls, taking me with him as he did before, that first time when I cried all over his chest, and once more I land on top. He is still inside me, but only just as his erection slips away. I shift slightly, and we are separated. Which does seem a pity.
“You okay, sweetheart? Not too rough?”
“I’m fine. Absolutely wonderful. And the fucking was wonderful too.”
I wonder if, when, I should tell him I love him. Is that suitable conversation from a sub to her Dom? Probably not.
Until 2010 Ashe was a director of a regeneration company in Leeds, in the UK, before becoming convinced there must be more to life. She left to work as an independent consultant, and still does some of that though most of her time is now spent writing, as at last she’s been able to realise her dream of writing erotic romance herself. Ashe has been an avid reader of women’s fiction for many years, and still loves reading historical and contemporary romances – the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.
Ashe usually draws on settings and anecdotes from her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters, but her stories of love, challenge, resilience and compassion are the conjurings of her own lurid and decidedly smutty imagination.
When not writing – which is not very often – her time is divided between her role as resident taxi driver for her teenage daughter and friends, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, rabbits, tortoises. And a cockatiel. Ashe is a rural parish councillor, and she’s passionate about evolving rural traditions and values to suit twenty first century lifestyles.
Ashe has just completed her third trilogy in the Black Combe ‘family’ as well as a novella and a short story. All are due for release over the next few months.
Ashe’s books are available from most distributors