Archive | September 7, 2016

Mastering the Professor

Volume I, Issue Two

August 23, 2016


■☼≈☼■IT’S HERE! ■☼≈☼■ IT’S HERE! ■☼≈☼■ IT’S HERE! ■☼≈☼■

 J. Steele strikes again!




Book Three Of



After a particularly sensual interlude with Emma Burke, following an evening of the hottest sex he’d ever participated in, Gage Rutherford is terrified. As a Dom, he’s always prided himself on being able to remain aloof from his submissives. Guiding them, mentoring them, and scening with them while maintaining strict control of both himself and the women. Never allowing any personal feelings to intrude.

But with Emma, everything is different. He’s feeling things he swore he’d never feel. Wanting things he never imagined wanting. This woman is just way too appealing and that makes her dangerous. He needs to put as much distance between them as possible. Now.

Except he can’t seem to break away. He’s never found a more perfect submissive than Emma. Masochist to his sadist, adventurous, and so damned responsive. Unfortunately, as idyllic as she seems on the surface, keeping her could easily turn out to be the worst mistake of his life.



She knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help herself. He was magnificent with that broad chest, firm, well-defined pecs, the smattering of crisp, curly, black hairs dusting his sun-bronzed skin.  Holy fuck! His cock wasn’t the only thing that was pierced!  Stainless steel barbells skewered his coppery nipples and suddenly her mouth went from desert dry to bubbling spring and her pussy grew even wetter. She licked her lips. Jesus, she wanted to suck those hard nipples, play with those piercings, make him shudder and groan with desire.

He toed off his black wingtips. His hands moved to his belt buckle and her gaze followed like a guided missile. The clinking sound made by the metal pieces as he freed them from the strip of leather was quickly becoming one of her favorite sounds in the entire world. A sound guaranteed to stoke her arousal to fever pitch. A sound that made her want to sink to her knees and suck his cock. Or bend over the nearest sofa to feel the kiss of the folded leather on her ass and thighs. As he unzipped his pants and bent forward to push them down, she gasped.

Jesus! He had a tattoo! From the looks of it, a rather large tattoo. As she watched, mesmerized, he stepped out of his trousers, picked them up, straightened, and turned to put them on a hanger, revealing the sheer magnitude of the tattoo. A spectacular medieval dragon, wheeling in mid-flight, covered his entire back. The dragon’s head, located on Gage’s left shoulder blade, was turned to shoot a blast of fiery flames back toward the observer. His wings rose over the top of Gage’s shoulders. The long sinewy tail stretched down over the round globe of Gage’s right ass cheek and wrapped around his thigh, its barbed tip ending on the back of his calf just below his right knee. The mythical creature’s scales were a rainbow of jewel tones that seemed to shimmer in the bright bathroom light.

Emma’s hand flew to her throat. Good Lord! I watched every move he made at the club last Friday night as he worked that woman over! How come I didn’t notice all that fabulous ink? Or those pierced nipples? How could I possibly have missed them? She shook her head. I don’t know. Could it be because the light in there was so dim?

Yeah, it could, her cynical self argued snidely, but that wouldn’t be the whole reason, now, would it? Face it. You were too busy staring at that menacing mask he was wearing. Or those gorgeous muscles flexing and bunching every time he raised and lowered his arm.

Bullshit. You didn’t notice the tats or the piercings because the instant his eyes met yours you were caught. Captured. Held in thrall as if you’d been trapped in a force field, helpless to look away. And when he started walking toward you, you were a goner. The breath snagged in her lungs and she shivered at the memory of that slow, predatory advance across the room toward her, their gazes still locked, electricity zapping back and forth between them as he’d closed the distance that separated them.

That was the real reason those other details hadn’t registered on her brain. His gaze had captured hers like a rabbit in a snare and she’d been too busy drowning in those emerald green pools to notice anything else. Exactly as she was drowning in them now. Because he had turned around and was once again facing her.

She cleared her throat. “There has to be a story behind that tattoo,” she said, her voice so hoarse it sounded strangled.




“Incredibly erotic and full of heart.”


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I just attended the BDSM Writers Conference in New York City, hosted by Dr. Charley Ferrer. It was absolutely fabulous. I met two of my favorite authors, Sierra Cartwright and M. Q. Barber, and became acquainted with others who are being added to my growing list of favorite authors.


The best thing about this conference was meeting and getting to know the wide variety of people attending—from full-time, 24/7 practitioners to people just getting their toes wet. From twenty-somethings to senior citizens. From authors of dozens of books to authors who are still writing their first, along with readers who simply enjoy reading what we write.


Workshops covered a wide variety of topics such as Ten Tools for Erotica Writers and Emotions & Perspectives from a Dominant & a submissive. In one hands-on demonstration, we learned what it felt like to be on both the giving and receiving end of a flogger. My favorite, however, was the violet wand demonstration. (Totally awesome, by the way). If you don’t know what that is, just Google it. In my book, Passion’s Magic, I included a brief violet wand scene and described the sensation as like “bathing in Alka-Seltzer.” That is truly what it feels like. Millions of tiny bubbles bursting against your skin. Except it’s an illusion created by electricity. It’s exhilarating. We also learned what it felt like to be on both the giving and receiving end of a flogging.


Since the trip to an actual dungeon was, unfortunately, cancelled, some workshop leaders presented a typical D/s scene in Dr. Charley’s suite. It was actually quite lovely. The thing that stood out the most, to me, at any rate, was the powerful emotion of the interaction. The Dom’s total attention was focused on his sub and the deep connection the two shared was evident throughout the entire scene from set-up right through the aftercare. All the reasons I love both reading and writing this genre, and all the elements I hope I manage to convey in my own books.


Two conferences are held each year, one in Everett, WA in the spring and one in New York City in August. For more information, check out the BDSM Writers Con website at:


Even if you’ve never written a word in your life, if you enjoy reading erotica, erotic romance, BDSM romance, LGBTQ romance or any combination thereof, you will be warmly welcomed. And you’ll meet lots of awesome authors, both those who are familiar to you and new ones you’ll want to add to your keeper shelf.