It'll be out sometime this year. Trying to slow down.
I've always wanted to a write a psychosexual thriller/romantic suspense plot. Basically...death. sex. crazy. guns. running. mystery. lies.
It's definitely NOT new adult. Psychosexual stories tend to be loose on the morals and titillating, so if you're someone who likes for everyone to be good or bad and not good and bad, you'll hate it. I really, really don't like writing "heroes" because I think human nature is way too gray for that and Cameron is definitely no hero.
This isn't the blurb but I'll tell you about it:
Cordelia is an "independent contractor" in the drug world in Brazil. She delivers packages for anyone who asks and makes a pretty good living at it. She's skeptical of a new client that an old client recommends but she takes the job anyway. When she gets there, everyone's dead except for one guy who is hiding in a corner. His name's Cameron and he swears he didn't do it. She doesn't believe him, but they are forced to go on the run together when someone else shows up guns blazing. They don't trust each other and there's an attraction as well. So things get weird. Hopefully, I'll make you a wee bit uncomfortable by the end.
No, Fuel is not BDSM or anything close to that, despite what you see here. I'll leave those storylines to the pros. Cam and Cordy just like to push and play with each other. They're both crazy and a little dangerous. This is actually pretty tame for what I'm cooking up. WARNING: 18+ for stuff and unedited.
Cameron pulled the scarves between his hands until
they were taut. “I want to use these.”
I shrugged. “You like control,” I said. “It doesn't surprise me..."
He bound my wrists together and then knotted them to
the headboard railing. “Don’t worry. It’s only kinky until it’s not….”
Straining against them, I lifted myself so that our
chests were touching. And I snickered. Snorted, really. “You think you’re the first person to tie me up, Cameron?
Look, I was fucking everybody weird before it went mainstream.” He chuckled as he tightened the binds.
“I saw you going through my bag… What were you
looking for?” he asked.
Fuck. My heart raced but I kept my cool. “Oh, I see… so now
you're gonna fuck answers out of me?”
He was fiddling with his pocketknife like he always
did. "It's just to cut you free...later." He flicked the blade out and put his finger on my clavicle. His
hand coasted down my chest, and I arched against it, all the way down to my
bellybutton. “Why were you in my bag, Cordy?” he asked.
“Who are you...really?”
“Cameron Max.” Tossing the knife aside, he dropped
to all fours above me.
“Interesting…that’s the only ID that wasn’t in
there!” I laughed. “So, you gonna interrogate me or fuck me?”
“They’re not mutually exclusive, are they?”
Cameron smirked as he cupped me under the knees and lifted my legs until I
couldn’t see his face anymore.
“I hope not…” I whispered. Grinning, he pushed my knees
back to meet my shoulders with his weight...
So excited about this...I think I say this about everything you write, though. :)
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