Sin on Skin
by
Mari Freeman
Book six of the Cougar Challenge series.
Wild women do…
That’s the theme for the friends Stevie Jones found at an erotic-romance convention. But as the women share their experiences with younger guys on their Tempt the Cougar blog, Stevie discovers she’s the least wild of the bunch. Finding a younger man isn’t the problem; after a lifetime of unfulfilled desires, Stevie needs a younger alpha man. In the meantime, getting a tattoo is an easy, safe way to begin ramping up her wild side.
Tattoo artist Errol knows instantly what Stevie needs, and it’s not just a bit of ink. He’s hot, young—and he’s just invited Stevie to his private BDSM club. Before you can say “green light”, Stevie is experiencing things she’d only read in her favorite erotic novels. Sinful toys, spanking benches and voyeurism are just some of the stops on what will become the wildest ride of her life.
Reader Advisory: This hot little number contains a scorching scene in which the heroine becomes a plaything for others—threeothers, in fact—including one very demanding Domme.
EXCERPT:
Before she changed her mind, Stevie was pulling into Sin on Skin’s tiny parking lot. The air was cool as she stepped out of the car. A guy was sitting on a bench at the far side of the building, reading something from his cell phone. He nodded, barely looking up as she walked past him and through the door.
The tattoo would make Monica happy and fulfill the requirement of “getting out of the box” or whatever HR nonsense she was always pushing around the office.
“Hi. What can I do for you?”
Stevie headed over to a Goth-looking young girl with blond, pink and black hair, standing behind a glass case filled with jewelry for various piercings.
“Hey.” Stevie glanced over the case. Some of the jewelry was so unusual she couldn’t even imagine what had to be pierced to accommodate it. She shook her head. “I’d like to get a tattoo.”
The girl had too many lip piercings for Stevie to count. “Do you have an appointment?”
Stevie looked around the reception area. Two empty couches sat in front of a huge TV playing some sort of skateboarding competition. The far wall had shelves and a table with large, open albums of the artists’ work to help those undecided on designs. Not a soul besides her in the room.
“Do I need one right now?”
“Nah. Just wanted to know if you had someone already working on a design or something.”
“Ah. Nope. Walk-ins welcome?”
The girl didn’t even smile at the reference. “Um. Usually on a Friday night that would be a no, but you’re way early. Let me see if Errol can do you.”
Stevie glanced at her watch. Seven. Seven on a Friday night was way early to this crowd. She was getting old. Stevie paced over and flipped open the closest album on the table. The girl walked to the front and stuck her head out the door.
“Errol. I got a walk-in and no one’s here yet. You want to take it or should I have her come back?”
There was more to the conversation that Stevie couldn’t make out. She paged through the album. The work was fantastic. This artist used an incredible amount of detail and shadow to make the tattoos amazingly realistic.
“He’ll be right with you.” The girl still didn’t smile. “If you need a soda or something, let me know. I’m Angel.”
This girl was as far from an angel as one could get. Dressed in a short schoolgirl skirt and half-unbuttoned shirt, she sauntered away on extraordinarily high heels. Stevie would have considered it a Halloween costume, but this was a regular Friday night. “Thanks. I’m okay right now.”
“That’s Errol’s book. Your lucky day. He’s gonna do you.”
Stevie barked out a small laugh. “I wish somebody would,” she murmured. The girl gave her an unamused look over a clipboard.
“His stuff is beautiful.” Stevie changed the subject, tapping her finger on a pencil drawing in one of the plastic sheet protectors. It was a wolf. Nothing much in particular stood out in the design. The artistry was what made it so incredible. The pencil lines looked more like brush strokes. The shading and the detail made the wolf appear alive on the page.
“Did that for a dude who never showed up to have it inked.” The deep voice startled her. She hadn’t heard him walk in. Stevie looked up. “Happens sometimes. I liked it.”
“Errol, this is…what’s your name, sweetie?” Angel asked as she snapped a clip over some papers on the tattered-looking clipboard. She pushed the board into Stevie’s hands.
The guy who had been sitting out front stood before her. Stevie boldly eyed him from head to toe before realizing what she was doing. If he was doing her, she was a happy, happy lady. He gave her a knowing grin. They stood looking eye to eye for a moment.
Angel tapped the pen on the clipboard to bring Stevie’s attention away from the artist and back to the task at hand. “I need you to fill this out. All of it. Sign the bottom of the second page. Have you had any alcohol today?”
“Um. No. I haven’t.” Stevie blushed. She’d been caught looking at him by the freaky girl.
Errol turned back to the album. “It’s my policy not to ink anyone who’s been drinking. I don’t like clients with regrets in the morning.”
Oh. Good. After that comment about somebody “doing her”, Stevie assumed the overdone schoolgirl thought she was drunk. And then she’d given Errol such a bold once-over…
This guy was hot. Stevie knew she couldn’t have been the first client to ogle him, but she hated that she’d been so obvious. Angel had to distract her—again—to get them all back on track. Embarrassed, she scribbled her name on the release forms.
Errol took the clipboard. “What do you want…” He looked down at the paper. “Stevie?”
Stevie inwardly laughed. His clean-shaven head, his slightly muscled arms and those dark, brooding eyes were what she wanted. After this week and all the talk on the blog, she wanted to be able to be like the other cougar women. She wanted to feel confident enough to convince this younger guy to let her have her way with him. She wanted to see just how much of his body was inked.
“An Ankh symbol,” was the answer she managed to give aloud.
“This way.” He started walking down a hallway covered in pictures of happy clients showing off their new tats. “The Egyptian symbol for eternal life. Nice.” He turned down another hallway and pushed open the door to the last room. “My lair.” He held the door for her.
As she walked past, she could smell his cologne, spicy and somewhat strong. It was as appealing as his full lips. Oh God. She was in trouble.
“What style are you thinking for the Ankh? Gothic? Celtic? Do you want ornamentation around it of any kind? Is there something in particular you’re trying to express?”
The room held a chair that looked like it belonged in a dentist’s office and a couple of stools. Like in the hallway, the walls were covered with more pictures of clients, a few random cartoons and other memorabilia. There were photos of Errol with friends or maybe family, she assumed, and an autographed photo with a couple of the Carolina Panther football players. He gathered up some papers, sat on a wheeled chair then pulled himself up to the drafting table in the corner.
“I think I want it fairly stark. Black and grays, like that wolf, and I’d like the cross to look like carved stone. Maybe have an aged, chipped look to it.” He was drawing as she spoke. “In the loop at the top of the cross, I want a jewel.”
“That black ink too? Some color would totally make that pop. It wouldn’t need much.”
Stevie titled her head. “I didn’t think of that. I’m a little afraid of the color being too much on my skin.” She felt a little embarrassed by her complete lack of a tan.
“Some emerald on that gorgeous, creamy skin would be hot.” He didn’t look up from the paper. Stevie felt herself blush.
“Where’s it going and what size were you thinking?”
Wow. She was feeling like a schoolgirl herself. “Um. My hip.” She put her hand on the top of her right butt cheek. “About an inch and a half tall.”
“Hmm.” He scribbled a little more. “I think you’ll be happier if we go a little larger. Is there some purpose for the artwork, or statement you’re trying to make? Anything that I can add in the details that will personalize it for you?”
She presumed most people were happy to tell him why they wanted a particular tat. She, on the other hand, was not ready to tell this hunky guy that she wanted to mark her membership in an exclusive club of sex-starved older women on a quest to find younger men. Well, that, and she’d always wanted one, and the Ankh was the best thing she’d thought of in a long time. She loved the symbol the publisher used, and it really would make a cool-looking design.
“Not really.”
“Uh huh. It’s okay to have personal reasons for your ink, baby. We all have them. But if you open up to me, I can make your experience so much better.”
She’d bet he could. She’d have to spend the weekend looking up pictures of hot guys with tattoos so she could post one on the blog.
Errol continued to scribble as she sat on a stool. He reached over and started a boom box that housed his iPod. Not surprisingly, Stevie didn’t recognize the band, but she did like the music. It reminded her of The Who in their early days.
“How’s something like this?”
He handed her the translucent tracing paper. Stevie couldn’t believe the detail for the short amount of time he had spent on the drawing.
He stood close to her so he could look over her shoulder as he spoke. “Of course, on you, it’ll be much more intricate. But is the design what you’re thinking?” Stevie inhaled his scent again. She could feel the heat of his body.
She thought of Monica and could hear her friend now.
“You mean you were that close to a sexy younger man and you didn’t even try? Come on, Stevie.” She forced her concentration back to the design to take her mind off the man.
The Ankh was perfect. It had a three-dimensional feel that made it look like an ancient stone relic. He had included some wear around the bottom of the cross and a chip in one of the arms. In the loop that made the top of the cross was a gemstone with beams of light emitting both in front of the cross design and behind. Some vines wove from behind the base of the cross and reached out to the sides, giving the design more weight and depth than the Ankh would have held on its own.
“It’s perfect.” Stevie held it to her hip and looked in the full-length mirror by the door. Even though it was almost twice the size she had intended, it fit.
“All right. You ready?”
Stevie hesitated. She hadn’t bothered to change after leaving work and still wore her black skirt, white shirt and scarf. What had she been thinking?
“Drop the skirt and let’s put it in the right spot.”
Good afternoon everyone,
I love the introduction on our next guests website. Here, let me show you what I'm talking about. "Feel the desire...fuel your fire". Isn't that an awesome tag line? But wait, it gets better. "Welcome to a world of love, lust, and erotic intrigue. Strong, sexy characters will entice you, take you on romantic adventures and share their sensual passions. Turn up the heat with action that will keep you on the edge of your seat, and the edge of reality." Want go? Then check out Mari's website at: http://www.marifreeman.com/.
Mari Freeman is joining us today with the next installment from those sassy, sexy ladies of The Courgar Challenge. And this one is guaranteed to set your e-reader on fire. So, without further ado...Please give a warm welcome to Mari Freeman.
Good afternoon Mari and welcome to the Cafe. I'm so glad that you could join us today.
Thanks for having me Blackraven. I'm really excited to be here and can't wait to tell you more about
Sin on Skin.
Why don't we begin with you telling us a little about yourself, but first, I've got to ask you about this. You've stated in your previous life before you became a normal suburbanite in North Carolina, that you held an interesting array of jobs, which included everything from a project manager, to selling used cars, to working in a morgue. What was it like working in a morgue and what were your specific job functions?
You would start out with the morgue question...Makes me sound creepy. lol
I have a degree in Forensic Anthropology with a specialization in identification of ancient remains. As part of that study, I had to know a lot about physiology and the process a body goes through while decaying. Sexy right? Not. Actually, it was very boring work at a university hospital. I spent more time reading than anything else. Never once did I get to help solve a murder or figure out a mysterious death.
Darn, no CSI for you, huh? Oh well, such is life.
When I'm not penning romantic erotica, I enjoy horses, hiking, traveling, good food and friends. I'm an outdoors girl at heart, and you can often find me by the pond with my laptop fired up, fishing line in the water, and my imagination running wild. lol
Shoot, sounds good to me! Where do I sign-up?
Given that you’re a disguised as a normal suburbanite in North Carolina, does your family and friends know that you write erotic romance? And, if so, what do they think?
Pretty much everyone knows. I’m fortunate enough to be a full time writer, so it would be hard to disguise. I get some raised eyebrows, but my family and friends have been wonderfully supportive. My mother hasn’t read any of the erotic romances, but she buys them and lets her friends read them. My mother-in-law once saw a plot chart on the wall for Birthright. It was covered in drawings of Native American symbols. My drawings must not have been so great, because she thought they were cartoon characters and I was writing children’s stories. She then told all her friends I was writing children’s stories…boy was she surprised when she read it! I don’t think she was expecting that kind of pop goes the weasel.
ROFLMAO! Oh, I bet that was priceless! OMG that's hilarious!
Mari, you’ve implied that your favorite stories include Alpha females in love with even more Alpha males and that finding the clash of passionate, strong willed personalities is fascinating, which leads to my next question. How do you develop your characters when writing your stories? Do you allow your characters to lead the story, or do you have a tendency to direct them? Moreover, do you consider yourself a storyteller or a story builder? Where does your inspiration come from when developing your characters?
It kind of depends on the genre I’m writing in. For Sin on Skin and the other contemporaries, I let the heroines lead the story. In my mind, they are the storytellers in those books. But with my paranormals like Birthright and it’s huge cast of creatures and characters, I had to build the story within the world. I then introduced the heroine, Keena, and let her go from there.
Inspiration comes from all over. I try to be open to people and things around me-- let the little things bring out a story. Birthright grew out of a conversation with a friend about my very old cat. She said he was my guardian. Manus, Keena’s guardian, was born from that conversation. He wasn’t the hero, but he started the story building process and the world building process for me.
Mari, this sounds intriguing. Let's give them a little taste of Birthright.
Sounds good to me, Blackraven!
Birthright
by
Mari Freeman
A seemingly random attack by mysterious creatures in long cloaks forces Mary Hughes to face the shock of her life—she isn’t human.
Well…not just human. With Witch and Demon blood running through her veins, she is Keena, Priestess of the Wild. As her magic emerges, Keena is thrust headlong into the world of the Kith, a world that includes a Gnome stylist, a cat guardian and a kitchen Imp for a best friend. Oh and then there’s her destiny—an ancient battle of birthright with an evil half-twin she didn’t even know she had.
As she fumbles with potions and spells and unwittingly stumbles into one foible after another, Keena’s also fighting her all-consuming lust for a hot Vamp Lord and the Kith’s half-Demon head of security. And managing her body’s newfound urges isn’t her only battle. Danger is everywhere and enemies are mounting. Certain Kith would love nothing more than to destroy the human race—and it’s up to Keena to stop them.
Excerpt from Birthright:
Movement on the chopping block caught my attention. A tiny woman was pacing across the wooden table. The hinge squeaked when I pushed the door open a little farther and the woman spun around. She examined me, eyes wide, for just a second before falling into a very formal curtsey.
“I am honored to have you in my kitchen, my lady,” she said, primly holding her arms at her side and keeping her eyes downcast.
“Thank you,” I replied, entering and returning her curtsey. She rose up to her full height, which was about two feet tall. Her hair was a shimmering light green and looked as delicate as spun silk. It was plaited down her back and reached all the way to her thighs. The dainty woman’s face radiated mischief. Her beauty shimmered in the air around her. I had no doubt that she was a very powerful Imp.
I smiled. “I was hoping to find some coffee. If it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Coffee this late, my lady,” she tsked, looking truly concerned. “You need some sleep for your big day tomorrow.” Her nose crinkled as she chastised me.
“It doesn’t bother me.” I slid onto a stool next to the chopping block as she waved her little hand, making a cup appear before me. The kettle from the small stove in the corner floated toward us.
Her face was beautiful. She had bright blue eyes that took up too much of her face and a warm smile with perfect, gleaming-white teeth. “Two sugars, I believe.”
“Yes. Thank you.” I put my hands on either side of the cup. “You are?”
“I am Abbey, the keeper of the kitchen here. Kitchen Imp.” She sat down on a wooden box of onions and daintily crossed her legs. She leaned closer, over her knees, and gave me a serious look. “My lady, you must be wary, wandering these halls alone.”
“Please, call me Keena,” I said, and she nodded. “What do I have to fear?” I had assumed myself safe from the Slaugh while in the manor.
Her expression changed from a pretty smile to a worried frown. “Much, Keena.”
I grumbled about being the last know everything and she rolled those big eyes. Lifting her hands above her head, she mumbled a spell I couldn’t follow or fully understand. Her magic tingled, warm and inviting, and a shimmering bubble enveloped us. It was as if a large glass dome covered us and the table, down to the floor. I couldn’t help but reach out a tentative hand to touch it.
“Don’t,” she said. “You’ll break it. It’s a sound barrier. We can talk without being heard…by most, anyway.” I was impressed. I watched swirls of varying shades of blue shift and move within the bubble, like blood moving though a living thing.
She walked over and put her little hand over mine where I held my cup. “Until All Hallow’s, you are not safe anywhere, Keena. The Slaugh are very determined.”
“I wish someone would tell me what the hell is going on. I’m really getting tired of Bevin’s half answers.”
“Ask and I shall tell, my lady. If I am able.” I was shocked. The others, even Manus, seemed so elusive when I asked direct questions. “I’m your servant. I will hide nothing from you.”
“Really? How refreshing. Fine—what do the Slaugh have against me that they keep trying to kill me?”
She sat back on her onion box again and paused as she gathered her thoughts. “The condensed version is this. They, and some of the other Kith, do not mix with the outside world so easily.” I must have looked confused. She tapped her finger to her head. “Think about a Gnome or Gremlin trying to live openly among humans. And most particularly the Slaugh. Yuck!”
When I nodded my understanding, she went on. “So some of them, especially the Slaugh, would like nothing more than to become the majority species, as it was in the early times, before the human population grew to dominance. In the meantime, some of our races have become very small. Given that we have more power than humans do, many feel that the magical should dominate the Earth. Some would see the humans destroyed or, at the very least, reduced to what amounts to slavery.”
“Okay, so they want to wage war on humans. I still don’t see the connection to me.” Maybe I was just thick. I didn’t understand the implications.
“You’re as pure as I’ve been told. I’m pleased.” She looked over her shoulders as if to make sure no one was around. “The High Priestess is the leader of the council. Doran has discouraged the Slaugh and others, like the Goblins, from their plans and though she is not their leader, they must follow the majority. The decisions of the council are binding to all the Kith.”
“A supernatural United Nations?” I had to chuckle as I said it.
Abbey did too. A light tinkling sound filled the bubble. “Similar. The High Priestess’s influence is weakening, because she will soon step down. The Slaugh are making sure their cause is taken up by her replacement. The council will be looking to you or Feldema to carry on the traditions and beliefs of the current leadership, and let fate take its due course. The Slaugh want their influence on the High Priestess’ position. Then they can wreak havoc as they will.” She looked to the tabletop, suddenly finding something interesting on her shoe, then back to me.
“And? I don’t want to sound stupid, Abbey, but I still don’t see—” Understanding hit me suddenly. “You mean that Feldema…she would allow the Slaugh to do what they want?”
She slightly bobbed her head.
I took a sip of the wonderful coffee and let the implications of what I’d just heard tumble through my mind. I had dealt with the Slaugh more than once now, and had Manus and the others not been there to protect me… The human population would break into chaos if the Goblins and Slaugh and God-knows-what-else were free to start attacking.
The implications were enormous. Doran and Bevin were looking to me to prevent a clash between the Kith and humanity. No wonder they didn’t just come out and say it. I would have cracked under that kind of pressure, what with all the other changes I’d been through in the last few weeks.
I cursed. This still left me with more questions than answers. Why had my mother had two children? Why not just me if Feldema was weak or untrustworthy? Had she known this would come?
Abbey managed to change the subject and the tone of the conversation as she refilled my cup. We talked and gossiped for another hour or so and she told me more about WildLand and the races within it. Her demeanor was light and she made me feel very comfortable. I liked her immediately and knew she would be a true friend and confidant. Before we parted, she told me about those on the island who supported Feldema and her consorts—and among them, which would be in attendance tomorrow.
I left her to the preparations for the next day and ventured back to my room. Manus was asleep at the foot of the bed, just as he had been for years.
Since we’re discussing Alpha males and females, how do you determine which sex scenes go into your books? Are they based on the connection between the characters, friends’ suggestions, personal experiences, or a combination of all the above? Btw my readers will tell you that I love this question.
It’s a good question, so I understand why you like it. Sex scenes are as much a part of the developing relationship as any other part of the story. I can’t force them. I try to let the characters determine when they want to have sex. I may find it more interesting to prolong that for them, but they choose when they want to have it. Sex for the sake of having a sex scene is usually cheating the reader and she will know it. I want the entire story compelling for the reader.
You are so right. I know this sounds crazy, but too many sex scenes without purpose, bores me and often turns me off of the book.
Now that we’re on the subject of Alpha males and males and hot scorching sex, tell us a little about your latest release, Sin on Skin. I love the cover by the way.
Syneca did that cover. She did all the Cougar Challenge covers. I love them. They’re smartly sexy. My book is the 6th in the Series and my heroine, Stevie Jones, pretty much laughed at the Cougar Challenge (to go out and seduce a younger man) when it was issued on the blog in the first book. She decides the best she can do to show her wild side was to go out and get herself a tattoo.
When she gets to the tattoo parlor, Sin on Skin, she meets Errol. He’s hot. He’s young. And he invites her to come play in his private BDSM club. She takes his challenge and finds that two nights of playing with Errol and his friends will change her life in very unexpected ways.
Did you happen to bring us an excerpt?
This was it. She was forty-four. He was thirty-two. She was skinny and very white.
He was muscular and tan. If he rejected her after seeing her naked, she would die of embarrassment. She straightened her back. But worse, if she chickened out she would never forgive herself. She dropped the bra.
“This can come off now.” He peeled away the small bandage that covered her tattoo. “You told me your limits, but what do you want out of submission, Stevie?” His voice was close. She covered her small breasts with her hands and stood where she was, still facing the far wall. No mirror to use as a buffer here.
He reached around and offered her the drink. She took the glass and a quick gulp of the sweet wine. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”
“Well. Some subs want to be spanked—hit—hard. It’s about the pain. It’s about taking it for their master. But I don’t see you as the type. As a matter of fact, I don’t think the pain is what you’re all hot and bothered by at all. Is it?”
It wasn’t, but she wasn’t at all sure how Errol understood that with as little conversation as they had managed when setting up this meeting back at the tattoo parlor. They’d talked about her limits, but not her needs.
He whispered in her ear, “Tell me what you think you want. It’s been a long time since I’ve played with a newbie. I want to understand you.”
She was already wet. Standing open and vulnerable in nothing but heels and a thong, his presence behind her, looming, was sexy in itself. Stevie had found her alpha werewolf. “Why do you want to play with me?” She was glad she couldn’t see his face.
His breath was warm against her ear. “You’re a strong, intelligent woman, Stevie. Why wouldn’t I?” His hand ran gently down her left side. “A strong female who can submit is far more interesting than a mindless girl who throws herself under your flogger because she has no sense of herself. I don’t want a woman who needs me to form her completely. I want what every man wants—a beautiful, smart partner. I just want her to want to give.”
Stevie fidgeted with the glass, trying to understand the difference.
He ran a finger down her spine, tracing the outline of each bone. “Think of it this way—in your office, do you like working with people who challenge you and themselves, people who push the envelope and make things happen? Or the yes-men type who are predictable and wimpy?”
That she understood.
“So, what is it Stevie needs?”
She wasn’t sure what to say. Wasn’t sure how to verbalize it. She tried to think back to the characters in the stories and what had most appealed to her from their experiences. What had made her so hot?
“Honesty will get you exactly what you want. Maybe not exactly how you thought you wanted it, but the truth will help you.”
His voice made her want a lot of things. But how did she voice them without sounding like a slut? She took another drink.
“I want to be completely sexual, with no hangs-up, no fears.” She looked at the floor. “No accountability for the success of the experience. I want to be the object of the experience. I want sex to feel like something other than a chore.”
“You want to be a slut?” He walked past her, not looking her over yet, no judgment in his voice. “You want your body to be the instrument of pleasure for others? Is it that simple? We can start there.”
She looked down again. He was right, of course. It wasn’t that simple, but he’d given her something to play with.
“Say it for me, Stevie. Tell me what you want.”
She took a deep breath. Yes. That was exactly what she wanted to be. “I want to be a slut.”
In no particular hurry, he turned to her. A wily smile came across his face. His eyes moved hungrily up her body, stopping at her chest. She held the glass in both hands so her arms were covering her breasts. His glance darted to her eyes and he expectantly raised his eyebrows. It was an unspoken order. Stevie dropped her hands to her side.
“That’s my girl.”
Oooh! He is one serious alpha male Mari. This is going to be good! Woo-hoo!
Mari, first I want to tell you that I love The Cougar Challenge Series. You ladies have done an amazing job. How did you become a part of the Cougar Challenge? And, is it true that more authors have been contracted to add books to the series?
I was lucky enough to have been invited by my critique partner and friend, Samantha Kane. We have invited others into the fray. I believe Ciana Stone, who’s Cam’s Holiday is book seven, will open the way for the exciting new authors coming up! You can get a sneak peek on the Tempt the Cougar blog…
If you haven't dropped by the Tempt the Cougar blog, you're missing out. Here's the link: http://temptthecougar.blogspot.com/
Okay, here’s another question I have to ask. I love Stevie’s theme “Wild women do...” What made you think of this particular song when thinking about Stevie and her friends from Temp the Cougar blog? Moreover, I love the name Errol and his tat on the cover is sexy as sin. What made you select a tattoo parlor for Stevie to meet her alpha male and for him to be into BDSM? What type of research did you conduct to write the book?
Ciana Stone designed the blog and posted that video. I kind of let Stevie work herself into believing that philosophy for herself as she plays with Errol.
The artist who gave my BF a tat last summer was named Errol. Boy was a character. He has a smoking hot, restored old Caddy and he was just cool. He didn’t fit the physical characteristics that Errol ended up with in the book, but his attitude fit. Chris Daughtry was my visual key for Errol.
I wrote a short BDSM story a while back that was in the Charity anthology, Coming Together: with Pride. It was only about 7 thousand words, but I wanted to explore the emotional and internal thinking of an alpha female who decided she wanted to submit. Sin on Skin is not a hard-core BDSM story. Don’t get me wrong, it's sexy, but it’s about Stevie’s journey to understanding her need to submit.
I love character's personal journeys in stories. It makes them more profound in the end when the Ah-ha! occurs, as I like to call it.
Mari, you may not know this, but I’m from Texas, so I have to ask about your book Beware of The Cowboy, which takes place in Dallas, Texas. Tell us a little about Beware of The Cowboy and who did that delicious cover.
Les Byerley did that one. Gotta love that cover! Naked guys and puppies. What’s not to love?
I also lived in Texas through my high school years. Fort Worth to be exact. I still love a man in tight Wranglers or a tight man in Wranglers. Always will. Beware of the Cowboy is about event planner, Liza Delane, who battles self-doubt by learning to trust in a rich, sexy cowboy who she believes is out of her league. All the while, she and her assistant Becky have to plan a pug wedding for said cowboy’s mother. Yes, I said a pug wedding. It’s a comedy, if you couldn’t tell. Don’t worry, sexy romps in the hay abound.
I know exactly what you mean about those Wranglers. There's just nothing sexier. Well, yes there is, nothing can be sexy as hell now that I think about. LOL!
Did you happen to bring an excerpt from Beware of The Cowboy? Please…
I think I can do that….
Beware of the Cowboy
by
Mari Freeman
Liza DeLane is at the top of her game as the hottest event planner in Dallas. That is until her biggest client manipulates her into holding an event that could ruin her reputation on the Dallas A-list; Puppy Nuptials for his wife’s prized Pugs.
Forced to plan the K-nine wedding, Liza finds one big sexy perk to this job: Blake Dean, her client’s son. Blake worms his way under her businesswoman exterior and lights a fire she thought long dead.
Liza has to make a decision. Does she continue to work her life away, hiding behind expensive suits and watching the other half live, or can she let go of her insecurities about a humble past and take a chance on a millionaire in a cowboy hat? ~
Excerpt:
He helped her to a standing position, but didn’t pull her closer. Reaching one hand up, he traced one side of the V-line of the vest she was wearing. When he reached the bottom of the V, he slid one finger between the vest and her skin and deftly unbuttoned the top button, all the while looking into her eyes. His face gave away his desire, his need, she held her breath; afraid to look away, afraid she might miss one tiny expression. The next button popped open.
As his fingers slid across bare skin under that vest, Blake had to slow down and steady himself when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. He’d watched those breasts all night and had never guessed she was braless. Not wanting to wait much longer to see them, he undid the next button and then one more. She hadn’t pulled back, hadn’t said a word, simply watched his face, her hands at her sides.
Lifting his other hand, he pushed the vest open and off her shoulders in one slow steady movement. Liza sucked in a breath as the warm night air caressed her already tight nipples. His face revealed his pleasure in the sight of her, and she was mesmerized by the openness of his expressions. He didn’t try to hide anything from her, no mask, no fake macho bravado; he let her see his appreciation, his vulnerability. It was more of a turn on than standing half naked in a barn with a sexy cowboy. Almost. He started to reach for her, to touch the treasure he had just revealed, but she stopped him. “My turn.”
He tilted his head slightly in question. Then she raised one hand and undid his top button. Blake’s lips curled up to start a smile, but the heat from her touch on his chest stopped that smile in it tracks. He closed his eyes and fought to keep his hands at his sides as she had done. She moved swiftly down his shirt and before long had all his buttons loose, but Liza didn’t stop there. Tugging gently, she pulled his tails from his slacks and pushed his shirt over his shoulders. She had to lean into him and stand on her tiptoes to get the shirt all the way over. The movement caused her taut nipples to brush against him. He opened his eyes and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, taking her mouth forcefully, keeping his hands where they were, only touching where she leaned into him.
Liza pulled back slightly, “Let me show you.” She whispered against his chest and pressed a gentle kiss to a tight nipple.
“Show me what, beautiful?”
“That I want you. Blake. Not your money, not your name. Let me show you.”
Blake swallowed a huge lump in his throat. Unable to speak, he lowered his head and kissed her hair. She had hit him right at his core. Usually he had his choice of women, but early into a night he could tell what they wanted, and he was either left feeling like a trophy or a means to an end, and that end was his father’s money. Liza didn’t make him feel either.
Her little hands gripped his arms just below the elbows. She skimmed kisses across his chest and took one of his nipples between her hot lips, suckling gently, nipping with her teeth. He shivered from the feel of it. His cock was straining hard against the soft fabric of his dress slacks. If he’d been wearing jeans he didn’t think he’d been able to stand it.
Slowly, she slid herself down, holding onto his forearms for support, licking his stomach, twirling her tongue through the dusting of hair on his midsection. He watched her every move, thinking he’d never seen anything as sexy as Liza DeLane with her hair falling loose and free over her bare shoulders, loving him. It was the best sex he’d ever had and his pants were still on.
She sank to her knees and released his arms. “Unbutton your pants.” Her voice was husky with desire and he did as he was told. Blake couldn’t have taken control of the situation if he’d wanted. He was utterly hers at this moment. His pants slid all the way down to his ankles, his cock bobbed in front of her face, tapping lightly once on her cheek. Liza took hold of his wrists and looked up at him through her lashes.
He still didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Liza could read his face so plainly. He needed, and she was going to show him she understood exactly what he needed. His body was a thing of sheer wonder, roped muscles covered with Texas, sun-kissed, skin that felt as good as it looked. She looked up at him again. “Can I love you Blakely?”
The words were so tender they almost hurt his ears. She wanted to love his body, not use it. She wanted to be there with him, no ulterior motives, and no hidden agendas. He wasn’t sure that had ever happen to him before. “Please.” It was a squeak, but it was the best he could do.
She leaned in, not letting go of his wrists but gripping harder, and took his dick in her lips, softly, letting it glide into her mouth excruciatingly slow. Blake groaned and let his head fall back. “God, Liza.” She eased him further inside her mouth, not adding any pressure as she went. He felt his knees tremble. Holding tighter to his wrists, supporting him, she pulled back, sucking hard and twirling her tongue along the underside of his shaft. She continued that rhythm of torture, slow and light on the way in, sucking hard and pulling on the way back. He’d never felt anything so good in his life. Heart pounding in his chest, his balls tightened and his vision blurred.
Damn, Mari! That cowboy is a goner! LOL!
Mari, from the looks of your website, you look like you had fun with the Ellora’s Cavemen at Romanticon. Do you care to share a couple of stories with us? I must admit that after seeing that picture, now we know why the theme for the Tempt the Cougar blog is “Wild women do…” LOL!
Why surely, I don’t know what you mean. *Flutters Eyelashes*
Hmmm...Let me see if I can refresh your memory. *wink*
Does anyone look familiar in these pictures Mari? (Mari blushes and continues to bat her eyelashes..) That's what I thought. Shall we continue? LOL!
When you were deciding on a publisher to submit your manuscripts to, what did you look for in each of them? What research was conducted and what advice do you have for aspiring authors when selecting a publisher to submit their manuscripts to?
The answer to both those things is the same. Writing with the ‘intent to earn’ is just like any other business. You have a product and you need a way to distribute that product in a way that allows you to make a profit. Research your publishers. Read the books they sell. Ellora’s Cave fit my style of writing. So, I started there. They bought my stuff. We’re all happy. Plus, they have Cavemen.
Aspiring authors need to do the same. Make sure the publisher fits your style. If you read the books produced by a publisher, you’ll have a good idea what they buy. If it’s not your style, go elsewhere. Not everybody fits with every publisher. Usually it’s not personal. It’s style.
That's excellent advice and the Cavemen would have sealed the deal for me as well. LOL!
Have you ever received a rejection letter, and if so, how did you handle it? What did you do to get back on the writing horse?
Yes… I have a notebook that holds the rejection letters in the front pages and the awards, reviews and fan mail in the back pages. I still treat it like a business. If someone rejects a manuscript, then we don’t fit. I want my publisher or agent to love my work. If they don’t, someone else will.
Looking back, what do you know now that you wish someone had told you in the beginning when you were just starting in this crazy business and trying to get someone to publish your work? What advice do you have for aspiring writers about this crazy business?
Silly me. I thought I could just whip out books without much thought to learning craft. I knew what I wanted to write and how… Yeah right. Fortunately, I joined a local RWA group and they took me in and helped me in all stages of pre and post publication. They’ve been great. Keep learning.
What do you enjoy doing in your spare time? Do you have spare time?
Spare time… This time of year, I watch football. My dad made me a fanatic. So, Saturday’s and Sunday’s are usually spent with the games. In the summer I like to spend time out on our boat. And of course, I read.
Well, Mari, I'm sad to say that our time has come to a close, but before you go, I would like to ask one more question that’s actually two-fold. Do you have any releases besides Sin on Skin that we can look forward to before the year is up? If not, what can we look forward to from Mari Freeman in 2010?
Before the year is up, Sin on Skin is it. I should have the sequel to Beware of the Cowboy (I’m calling it Becky’s story right now because I suck at titles) ready to come out early next year. I’m working on plotting the sequel to Birthright as we speak. I hope that one will be out by summer. After that, I think I’m finally going to get to a trilogy about a three half-demon sisters whose stories have been trying to get out of my head for a year now.
If there's a sequel to Beware of the Cowboy, I'm so there. Can't wait!
Mari, thank you so much for dropping by the Cafe today. I've had a load of fun and hope you come back to visit us soon. Please know that you're always welcomed at the Cafe.
Thanks again, Blackraven for having us all on your blog. This was a very interesting and thought provoking bunch of questions. Lot's of fun to answer.
Cheers, All!
OMG! I almost forgot. Mari wanted to have a contest as her way of thanking everyone for coming out to visit her today. What's the prize? One lucky winner will receive a copy of Sin on Sin. Woo-hoo!
CONTEST
Contest Question: What's the top place on Mari's travel list... if money were no object?
HINT: You can find the answer by
CLICKING HERE.
Of course this is an overnight contest. Therefore, you have until 12:00 Noon (CST) on Thursday to post your answers in the COMMENTS section. A lucky winner will be selected and announced at 1:00 PM (CST) on Thursday using List Randomizer from RANDOM.ORG.
Good Luck Everyone!
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Simple Need
No, I'm totally good. I like when you give the readers something to sink their teeth into. They get to know you better.
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