A Sneak Peek At The Art of Domination: Model Release

I have a confession to make.  Blogging is probably my least favorite way to interact with readers, which explains why I rarely update this blog.  However, this is also one of the best ways to share actual excerpts of upcoming releases.

Speaking of which, those of you who subscribe to my newsletter expected the release of the first title in my new domination romance serial, The Art of Domination, to debut last weekend.  That fell by the wayside when a major distributor, reacting to wide-scale censorship calls from recent dustups in the UK, flagged some of my most popular His Series titles for review.  That is just about all settled, meaning we expect to debut The Art of Domination: Model Release this weekend.

Sooooo I'm releasing an excerpt of Model Release, a domination and submission romance between brooding hedonistic photographer Nolan Beal and his reluctant model turned passionate submissive, Iva Moreau, herself a frustrated painter trying to reform her wild girl ways.  In this excerpt, Iva gets her first look at Beal's studio and one of the sexiest men she has ever encountered.

From The Art of Domination: Model Release....

I waded upstream through the driving music and into a loft space that took up the whole floor only to discover what I’d taken for a party was the most chaotic photo shoot I had ever seen, all bohemian chic debauchery with a GQ sheen.  Very pretty people in everything from street clothes to couture bondage lingerie strutted and mingled and preened amidst equally attractive stylists and hair dressers in the expansive white brick studio space.  Continuous rolls of uncut photographs and negative streamers decorated the walls while piles of celebrity rags and couture trade mags lay in disarray like so much glossy clutter in corners and on low glass coffee tables and along the thick window sills where long-limbed girls lounged while flipping pages.  Rolling metal racks of clothing parceled a large section of the floor into a high fashion maze that part of me would have loved exploring.  All manner of commercial lights, either stilted up tall on metal stands or winched up at extreme angles from the exposed pipes running along the ceiling, focused obsessively on a strikingly plain paper backdrop.

Shooting had apparently paused while a little sylph of a brunette makeup artist with eye pencils tucked behind her ears and lip liners gripped between her fingers like pens touched up the color on a curvy beauty with a distinctly Brazilian flare to her light eyes and latte-tan complexion—the Giselle sort.  The model wriggled uncomfortably for a moment in her black teddy, which might have been downright modest had it not been made of tighter-than-skin latex.  The only prop with her on set was a waist-high table in the shape of a Doric column.

The dark-haired man standing a few feet from them caught my attention, well, for a couple of reasons.  While the flurry of music and activity caught everyone else up in this sense of constant movement and energy—a sort of atmospheric attention deficit disorder—he stood still and steady and tall in the middle of the chaos like it was his natural habitat, at home in the wild.  Peering appraisingly at the latex-clad model and her artist in attendance, he gripped a half-empty bottle of rum loosely in one hand, the long fingers of the other hand drumming thoughtfully against his leg.  “Devil may care” was a phrase coined for men like him, who wore it with ease in a sultry expression and power-at-rest posture.  The whole shoot looked very urban Dionysian, reimagined Bacchanalia with a twenty-first century twist, with that particular male model cast as the god of debauchery and drink himself.

Also… a girl just didn’t see a man that handsome every day, and he was gorgeous even by model standards.  He wore his thick black hair cut short enough to ruffle like a roguish party-boy crown.  That had to have been hours of work for some proud hairstylist, to be sure.  And the perfectly trimmed five o’clock shadow along his hard-angled jaw, too.  The light purse to his full, wine pink lips came off part smile, part knowing smirk—the kind that always left me torn between wanting to kiss a guy and slap him.  Maybe both, a few times.

 

No shirt above his low-ridding, loose blue jeans.  Nice juxtaposition, I thought, between baring that smooth, tanned chest and lean torso and just hinting at the shape of his muscular ass and thighs under the sturdy denim.  His dusty black motorcycle boots and the rock star heavy metal cross on the silver chain around his neck completed the God of Sex, Thunder, and Jack Daniels look.  Not bad at all, I thought.  Maybe this Beal guy knew what he was doing, at least when it came to staging.  Certainly had me throbbing from my temples to my fingertips, from my chest to deep between my legs.

The Art of Domination: Model Release is part 1 of 8 in a domination and romance serial in the vein of the bestselling His (Billionaire Domination) Series.  Like the His Series, the first installment will be available for 99 cents, and all subsequent installments will debut for 99 cents before reverting to the normal price of $2.99.

I hope everyone is as excited for The Art of Domination as they were for the His Series.  I've worked hard to make Nolan as sexy, dominant, and endearing as Adrian Knight but in his own swaggering rock star/sex god way.  :)