I’m delighted today to show off the gorgeous cover for my first book with Domitri Xavier – our BDSM erotica novella ‘The Journal,’ the first in the Her Master’s Voice series. The cover was designed yet again by the fabulous Blue Harvest Creative and we are absolutely thrilled with it :). See below for the cover and an excerpt from the book, which will be published this coming Friday 12th July!
Back Cover Copy:
“Come to my study at eight o’clock sharp. Dress for dinner. Wear high heels and put on that dress – you know what I expect of you.”
When the order comes Livia is torn between anticipation and dread.
Does he know? How could he possibly know what she has done? And how can she find the words and the courage to tell him?
As eight o’clock edges ever nearer, Livia waits outside the study door, trembling; uncertain of what she will find when she comes face to face with her Master.
If he knows… If he does, there will be consequences. There is no doubt about that.
What will be the price for her moment of disobedience?
He heard the knock on the door of his study. This was her signal that she had complied with all his instructions, not a request to enter. She would come in when he said so and she would never dare to knock again.
He had asked her to dress immaculately, smartly; as if they were going to dinner. Her hair must be perfect, away from her face. Her make up flawless, perhaps to look a little tarty, but she would know how far to go and the penalties for going over the top. She would be wearing elegant, high heeled shoes.
He told her to come in, gently, softly; as if she were merely coming in for a coffee or cocktails. Immediately she stepped into the room; looking down with her hands behind her. She would never look at his face directly without his express permission.
“Come to me.”
She had no idea what to expect. Would he be soft and tender? Or would he sweep her off her feet by mauling her like an animal. She knew that her body was his and he could treat it in any way that pleased him.
He ran his fingers through her hair, gently folding it back and forth and her head moved with his every gesture. Then he thrust his fingers deep toward her skull and tugged at her hair, moving her head in all directions. She let out an involuntary squeal.
“This is no time for making such noises.”
The quiet scream stopped immediately. She was under his power, his presence; his dominance. There was never any doubt about it.
He put his hands over her eyes and closed them, turning her face downwards. With effortless ease, he bound her hands behind her by her wrists and elbows. He loved the way that this pushed her breasts forwards and outwards. He had no need to bind her but it pleased him; a bound woman was an aesthetic pleasure.
He put one hand over her mouth. The other roamed over every contour of her body; her pouting breasts, her waist, behind her neck. He moved to her pussy and felt that it was already wet. Then both hands wandered quickly and powerfully over her whole body. She let out a yelp of pleasure which he immediately silenced with his strong fingers. She was his to do with as he wished.
He turned away from her, then turned back to look. She was beautiful. She was his. Her pain would be his pleasure…