I managed to catch Piper Trace for a moment to get her to emcee for us today. I hope you enjoy her offering! ~ Danica
It’s interesting, because even though I’m not a huge music fan in general, it strongly inspires and shapes my writing. To me, it’s the lyrics and mood of the song that do it for me–so I really think I’m responding to the music more as poetry. My current work in progress, or should I say my PERPETUAL work in progress, is a MMF menage with BDSM elements. The song that inspired this book is “Hallelujah” sung by Rufus Wainwright. I think I listened to this song over and over again constantly for about a month straight while commuting to work and forming this book idea in my head.
The song itself doesn’t have much to do with the book or the plot, but it’s the sad sexiness of the song that spoke to me. The raw and unapologetic emotion of it. The “wow, we are both completely weird and fucked up, but I still love you and you do something to me in the darkest parts of me that I can’t explain and I can’t seem to let you go”-ness of the song. Lines like: “Maybe there’s a God above, and all I ever learned from love was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.” If you think of that analogy–how to shoot someone who outdrew you–and put it in the context of love and a relationship, that’s the kind of complexity and gut-wrenching connection I was trying to create in this book.
I wanted Ford and Evie to have that sort of genuine and emotionally powerful relationship. I hope I achieved that. The third in their threesome, Charley, has some similar angsty love going on with Ford and Evie too–with most of the angst aimed at Ford–but he’s really there to provide these two strong, broken, stubborn characters (Ford and Evie) with some glue to hold them together and allow them to actually work. Ford and Evie’s pasts and hang-ups are a recipe for volatility, but thankfully Charley an buffer that and he’s very easy to love.
So Charley’s their glue, and he makes for good glue because that rough-hewn, sweet, biker stud just LOVES to get really sticky with Ford and Evie.
Watch the video. I need a moment. …Is it hot in here? Oh and don’t miss the excerpt of Come When Called below! The book is not out yet and it may be a while. It’s not even in edits yet because Ellora’s Cave can’t seem to pry a final version of it from my picky, pervy fingers. As soon as there is progress, I’ll let you know!!
There was something strangely exciting about a man kissing her, enjoying her body with his, while he thought about his lust for another man. While he talked about touching another man’s cock. It was hot, and Evie was nearly ready to climb on top of Charley and satisfy herself while he finished his story.
Her movement against him seemed to carry a message of invitation for Charley, because he jerked the sheets down roughly, exposing her breasts, and covered a nipple with his mouth, sucking hard. She gasped, arching against him, burying her fingers in his hair while she fought to untangle her other hand from the sheets and reach for the crotch of his worn jeans. He released her, kneeling up to pull off his shirt with one hand as he unbuckled his jeans with the other. Tossing his tee-shirt to the floor, he peeled his jeans off, sinking to the bed to push them off his feet, and then he was on her again.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, pushing his tongue into her with abandon, making noises of hunger, of need, of pleasure. His hands were everywhere.
They both struggled to pull free of the sheets, her trying to get out of them, him trying to burrow under them with her. Somehow they managed to kick them to the end of the bed so their naked skin could have full contact, head to toe. Warm skin against warm skin. Bodies wrapping around each other, arching against each other. They never broke the kiss. Charley seemed to want to get as close to her as she wanted to get to him.
He slid his hands around to her ass, pulling her against him as he thrust forward, groaning into her mouth. Damn. He felt so good. So strong and hard and naked. His weight against her made it impossible for her to think of anything but the way she felt at that moment. She didn’t think of her fear about John. Her confusion and longing for Ford. Her plans for the future. She only thought of what she needed from Charley—what they needed from each other. And it wasn’t sex—it was a feeling of belonging, love, connection.
She pulled her head back, breaking the kiss, breathless from the whirlwind of it. “Make love to me, Charley,” she whispered into the hollow of his neck.
“I can’t.” His voice held something close to despair.
“Yes you can,” she insisted, wrapping a leg behind his knee in a futile effort to keep him there.
“No.” He pulled his head back and clamped his hands to her shoulders, pushing up from her. “I can’t, and, goddammit, stop asking me to or I will.” He paused to catch his breath. “I don’t think Ford would like it.”
“I don’t belong to Ford!” She was surprised at her own willingness to sleep with Charley, knowing he was right.
“You do belong to him, Evie. We both do.” Charley made a frustrated sound, dropping his head against her shoulder. “Don’t make me argue with you about it when you know it’s true.”