Writer Wednesday: Rough Surrender with Cari Silverwood

Please help me welcome Cari Silverwood to the blog! She has a new release that is definitely worth a read!!

Cairo, 1910.

When history and BDSM collide, you get a book like Rough Surrender. Romantic yet sexily hot, with the fun bits of history interwoven into the story in a way that helps the plot accelerate and colors in the characters. You’ll wish you could go back to that time to climb the pyramids (which we can’t do anymore), or to watch the old canvas and timber airplanes purr overhead. And of course, so you can also go back to meet my Dom, Leonhardt Meisner and Faith Evard, a woman who is exploring her need for submission.

The Wright brothers only flew a few years before the time of my story, in 1903. Yet in 1910 the first great meet of pilots and their flying machines occurred on the African continent – the Heliopolis, Le Grand Semaine de L’aviation. Here is the time of Rough Surrender. Thirty or forty thousand people attended that meeting.

I modeled Faith’s love of flying her Bleriot plane after the very first woman to get a pilot’s license, Baroness de Laroche. Learning to fly in 1910 wasn’t a sedate affair, and might mean someone running or bicycling alongside the plane you were taking off in, while yelling instructions at you. Hair-raising, I’m sure. So I think you’ll understand why Leonhardt Meisner was horrified at the prospect of Faith flying.

When you put together two strong people with divergent views of something that one of them wants dearly, and then combine sexual attraction and the power exchange inherent in BDSM, you get an explosive situation.

If a man cares for you deeply, and only wishes to protect you from what he sees as a terribly dangerous pursuit, what do you do when you unearth his secret? Can love survive such a deception? Add in a series of murder with bodies being found in the river Nile after the crocodiles have had some time with them, and you have my latest release from Lyrical Press, Rough Surrender.

Blurb:
At a time when airplanes are as new-fangled and sensational as the telephone, Faith dares to fly. The one territory she has not explored is her own sexuality. In Leonhardt she discovers the man who can teach her how a woman surrenders her body and her mind. However, Leonhardt has a shadowed past and his own learning to do. He doesn't have the right to keep Faith from flying, even if he thinks airplanes are flimsy death-traps made of canvas, timber and their inventor's prayers.

Faith has her limits, Leonhardt has his flaws, and sometimes the nicest people get murdered by unscrupulous bastards. Even if Leonhardt can save the woman he loves, the battle for Faith’s heart will be the hardest one of all.

WARNING: BDSM, anal sex, orgasms galore, and a Dom who likes to claim his property with pen, ink and bondage.

Buylinks
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0088P3Z9C
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-roughsurrender-819094-147.html
http://www.lyricalpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=81&products_id=518

This is the website for the book
(educational yet kinky)
http://roughsurrender.weebly.com/
And my website
http://www.carisilverwood.net/

Faith halted at the door, put her palm to the wood while her other hand brushed her fringe back as well as she could without a mirror--needing that moment to compose herself.

Liar. Damnable liar. She had let him do that. She couldn’t trust herself.

“Leonhardt,” he said.

“What?” Frowning, she turned. At least, this time he’d kept some distance, a few feet, between them. Not enough. Her treacherous tongue curled out to touch her lip. Why did she do that? As if...as if she could taste him on the air. Her nostrils flared. She could smell him, though: tobacco and soap and sweat, but even in winter, Cairo would make anyone sweat.

“Leonhardt. Call me that.”

“I doubt that would be appropriate, Mr. Meisner.”

His mouth curved in a small smile. “You lied before. Of course.” He took an unhurried stride forward, brought up his arms and braced them either side of her head.

Hell.

“If it weren’t for that adorable tongue of yours, I’d have let you go. Now, I’m going to see what you taste like.” He lowered his head.

Faith strained away, the back of her skull smacking lightly into the timber.

“Don’t move.” Those two words were like nails driving her into place. He covered her lips with his and she gave a muffled groan as his tongue slid into her mouth alongside hers.

All resistance vaporized. She fought to stay aware and upright though her legs threatened to collapse and her logical brain had disintegrated into a swirl of lustful thoughts. Nothing mattered except the feel of him inside her. His lips pressed and slid, his teeth caught her flesh here, there...his breath merged with hers. This was a man who knew how to take.

His body moved in, squeezing her between timber and man. If she needed to breathe, she must accept what he gave her. If he didn’t hold her there, she’d fall. The world shifted on its axis.

Sweet Jesus, she loved it.

This time, when he drew away, she kept her fingers hooked into the heavy fabric of his coat. Something hard and long pulsed against her stomach--his manhood. All of their own accord, her hips arched forward. Her panting came a little faster.

“We’d best be leaving.” He stroked the side of her face with his knuckles.

“Mmm.” Someone had put glue on her tongue and throat

“Mmm? You kiss like an angel come down from heaven, sweetheart. Tell me the truth this time, before I let you go. Did you like that?”

Before I let you go That matter-of-fact statement shook her. Her eyes swept up, found his--so striking, so intense. She searched for a word to describe them. Animalistic? When eyes were given out, he’d been given the wrong ones--those of a hawk or wolf.

She considered lying but couldn’t, not while he held her still in place. “Yes,” she whispered. “I did.”

His knuckles feathered over her lips and, on impulse, she licked at them. His eyes darkened.

A hiss escaped from between his teeth. “You tempt me too much.” Then he stood, moved back and gestured at the door.

It took a moment for her to adjust to the loss--of feeling his body on hers.

By the time he slid back the door and guided her toward the motorcar with his hand low on her back, she’d done some thinking. If she’d doubted his effect on her, she now knew for certain. He’d given her an entirely new understanding of kissing. Mr. Meisner...Leonhardt, could own her without doing anything more than saying a single word.

He opened the passenger door. Their eyes met.

Well, two words. She wasn’t that easy.

Don’t move. The memory of her response scalded her. Like a cat on heat, she wanted to lie down at his feet and arch her back. Whatever am I going to do?