Cover & Excerpt
by Ally Bishop
Without a Trace Book One
What happens in love might destroy you…Or remake you all together.
I make a living offering men and women their ultimate fantasies…as submissives of the mysterious Mistress Hathaway.
I've never surrendered to anyone. That's not the way it works. Or rather, not the way I operate.
But when the gorgeous Fin MacKenzie shows up in my life, he throws everything out of balance.
Now I'm not sure who I am anymore, and I'm questioning everything.
What woman can turn away from a gorgeous Scotsman, especially when he sets her body on fire and her heart ablaze?
I have to stop it…us. I can't keep going like this. It will ruin everything I've worked so hard to build.
Who am I if I surrender to him? Worse yet, who am I if I don't?
Genre: Erotic Contemporary RomancePurchase link(s): Amazon & more retailers soon
Content/Theme(s): Ménage (F/F/M), Light BDSM, FemDom, Domme
Release Date: March 9, 2015
Publisher: Barkless Dog Press
Excerpt & More
No Naughty Deed Goes Unpunished
This isn't my usual client.
Normally, they come to me. It's discreet and makes everyone's life easier. But for certain people, you make exceptions.
In the back of a sleek Lincoln Towncar, I relax into the leather as we enter the tunnel, heading for the famous Ritz Carlton. The car and driver are a courtesy of the client, and while it's not the first time I've had such treatment, I always enjoy it.
Deprived of scenery, I mentally review my gear, ensuring nothing is left to chance. Leather crop, purchased several years ago from a tack shop. Restraints in the form of scarlet cotton rope—silk ties are for movies and books. Entirely too slippery and time consuming. The usual detritus: blindfolds, clamps, rubber whips that range from noisy to pain-inducing. Sultry music, though I also brought a selection of classical entries on my iPad.
A quick check in my compact mirror assures me that the deep red lipstick I've fallen in love with provides the right contrast to my long jet curls. My suit—pinstripe, skirted—fits my curves like a glove. Beneath, a dark leather and crimson corset meets a matching g-string, finished off with garters and stockings. Red stilettos complete the ensemble. The things I do for clients...
As we surface, I take a calming breath. There's always a bit of nerves, right before an introductory scene. This client is new, and while I have a website with a photo gallery and specialties listed, each person’s sexual desires are like snowflakes: while similar in appearance to others, each has their own unique intricacies.
Topping—or playing the Dom—requires you to know your bottom, or submissive. You can't push too hard or too far, as you risk injuring not only your client, but also the relationship that’s tenuous at the beginning. At the same time, if you go too light, or God forbid, too slowly, you lose future profits and referrals.
A balancing act. That's the best way to describe it. Sometimes, I wish I could be a submissive. A friend who enjoys playing the slave once told me that she loves turning inward, focusing on her own interests and pleasures, while the Dom does all the work. God, I wish I could let someone else run the show. But that's not the way it works. Or rather, not the way I operate.
Traffic in New York City is always brutal this time of day, but the driver gets a few lucky breaks. As he navigates the crowded streets, I go over my notes, replay my client's application video on my phone, and try to gauge his personality and true desires.
Creating—or recreating—someone's fantasies requires imagination and research, but it also relies on innate skills. For this client, I have a pretty good idea of what he wants.
Who am I kidding? I know exactly what he wants. Because in reality, all of my clients want the same thing.
To let go. To be in the moment. To escape life.
Sounds amazing, doesn't it? I envy them in so many ways.
The driver drops me off at the entrance. The Ritz Carlton isn't your average hotel — I probably I don't have to tell you that. The lobby defines elegance, with sleek lighting, antique furniture with a modern flair, and a quiet confidence that bespeaks the well-to-do that venture here.
I visit the concierge on duty and receive an envelope from him. The elevator doors snick shut behind me, and I slip behind the crowded space, falling against the back wall and closing my eyes. For once, my outfit doesn't draw hushed comments, as besides the skirt that barely covers my ass, I'm pretty low-key in a city of models and movie stars. Okay, maybe the shoes stick out a bit, too.
The elevator is empty by the time I reach the top public floor. Penthouse access requires a special passkey, and I extract mine from the envelope and slide it into the card reader. Then I wait while the elevator's silken glide ferries me to the top.
Stepping onto the lush carpet of the penthouse floor, I have two doors to choose from. I feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland, until I remember the room number the client texted me earlier today. With the Pixies' “Where Is My Mind?” forming an earworm in my brain, I knock.
A delicious man opens the door. Thick dark hair, lightly threaded with silver, strong jaw with an aquiline nose, sultry eyes that take in the length of me. He wears an exquisitely tailored suit that cuts across his impossibly broad shoulders in a mix of elegance and power. When he smiles, even my jaded heart quivers a bit.
"Mistress Hathaway. A pleasure."
I level a gaze at him, knowing that my raven curls and gray eyes captivate my clients. "The pleasure will be mine, Charles. Naughty boys have to be punished."
As a professional Dominatrix, I follow three rules:
1.Never let them disobey you.
2.Never let them touch you.
3.Never have sex with them.
At least, I used to follow them...
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Be on the lookout for Ally Bishop's future release(s): Crossing the Line coming June 2015
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