D. L. King: Evan Mora About Slave Girls

Day 7 of the Slave Girls blog tour, and here we are, back where we started. Thanks to the fabulous D. L. for hosting me. So you know, the book is amazing. That’s what everybody’s saying: Publisher’s Weekly, Erotica Revealed, and perhaps more importantly, the incredibly talented, knowledgeable and experienced crew of writers who’ve had a hand in this book (I’m looking at you, Rose Caraway, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Alison Tyler…I could list the whole table of contents, but you get the idea).

So many amazing writers between the covers together, all telling stories about submissive women and Dominant men. Despite the sheer volume of words dedicated to this subject in the wide world of writing, it never seems to grow old. The desire never grows old. The need to submit, the need to relinquish control to a powerful man, beats in the heart and sex of millions of women. What is it about submission that keeps us wanting more? I could wax poetic, tell you a hundred different things, but I’ll settle for a more succinct EVERYTHING, and leave you with an excerpt from my story:

The door swings inward with an ominous groan and my breath catches at the sight of you. Framed in the golden entryway light with your shirt unbuttoned above bespoke suit pants and a tumbler of scotch cradled absently in your palm, you bid me enter with a casual gesture, then close out the early night behind us.

You ask me what I need, the rich tenor of your voice as smoky as the scotch that even now, I know, lingers on your tongue. That you know what I need matters not. It’s a part of the ritual – the naming of my desires – it has been from the beginning.

“I need…” I say, eyes fixed somewhere below your open collar, on the skin that I know will feel smooth and hot beneath my mouth. You grasp my chin in your hand, exerting enough pressure to force my gaze upwards until I am caught by the impossible arctic blue of your eyes; eyes that appear at once cold and remote, and yet burn like the hottest of flames. You arch an aristocratic brow at my silence and the words spill out, the words that never change, words of hunger and of longing and of desperate, desperate need.

In the silence that follows you weigh my words while your hand slides lower, spanning my neck. Little by little you tighten your hold, and while your gaze never leaves mine I know you miss nothing – not the flutter of my pulse against the pad of your thumb or the convulsive swallow I can’t control as the pressure and my need for air mount. I don’t close my eyes, even when stars threaten and your mouth covers mine with brutal intensity, stealing my reflexive gasp. I want you to see the surrender in my eyes. I want you to know that I am yours.

And, for more of this, I’m afraid you’re going to have to buy the book. You can get it anywhere. Here are a few links:

And don't forget, the tour has a lot of stops left. Be sure to go back and catch any posts you may have missed.

June 1 D. L. King http://dlkingerotica.blogspot.com

June 2 Rachel Kramer Bussel http://lustylady.blogspot.com

June 3 Alison Tyler http://alisontyler.blogspot.com

June 4 Valerie Alexander http://www.valeriealexander.org

June 5 Nina Fairweather http://ninafairweather.com

June 6 Sommer Marsden http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com