AAD Spotlight/Excerpt/Giveaway with Cherise Sinclair

When trying to save a woman from slavers, Sam screwed up. Royally. Now Linda wants nothing to do with him. Or with BDSM. She won’t even admit she’s a masochist. As a dominant and sadist, he can give her what she needs, and when an opportunity arises, he slips into her life, intending to make amends. She’s everything he knew she would be…except for her bullheaded determination to be ‘normal’.
Now the horrible time is past, Linda just wants to return to her small conservative town, pick up her quiet life, and be normal. But how can someone who likes pain be ‘normal’? To her dismay, when someone spray-paints her home with obscenities, Sam shows up to rescue her. Again. Doesn’t he understand that the last thing she needs in her life is a sadist? He’s amused by her objections. But his dry sense of humor can’t disguise that he’s tough as nails and dominant and stubborn. He’s not going to let her drive him off this time. Soon she realizes she wants him to stay.
When he takes her to the Shadowlands, she feels as if she’s found a home…until she hears a voice from out of her nightmares.
I’m so excited! In just a few days, This Is Who I Am will be released. This is the long-awaited story of Master Sam and the slave he helped rescue. It seems as if this book took forever to write, and that is partly because the story pushed some of my own boundaries.
Speaking of boundaries, I spent this weekend at the Northwest Leather Celebration in San Jose, enjoying the workshops and the dungeon. Several classes were taught by very creative sadists—and I kept wishing I could add some of the tidbits to Sam’s book. (It’s probably good that the publisher won’t let me touch the manuscript at this point. LOL)
Anyway, the next Shadowlands is out on Tuesday. I hope you’ll let me know if you like the story!
Thanks to All the Fun Starts after Dark for letting me visit and share this exclusive excerpt with you.
Masters of the Shadowlands 7: This Is Who I Am
by Cherise Sinclair
Coming May 28, 2013

When trying to save a woman from slavers, Sam screwed up. Royally. Now Linda wants nothing to do with him. Or with BDSM. She won’t even admit she’s a masochist. As a dominant and sadist, he can give her what she needs, and when an opportunity arises, he slips into her life, intending to make amends. She’s everything he knew she would be…except for her bullheaded determination to be ‘normal’.
Now the horrible time is past, Linda just wants to return to her small conservative town, pick up her quiet life, and be normal. But how can someone who likes pain be 'normal'? To her dismay, when someone spray-paints her home with obscenities, Sam shows up to rescue her. Again. Doesn’t he understand that the last thing she needs in her life is a sadist? He’s amused by her objections. But his dry sense of humor doesn’t disguise that he’s tough as nails and dominant and stubborn. He’s not going to let her drive him off this time. All too soon, she realizes she wants him to stay.
When he takes her to the Shadowlands, she finds a new home…until she hears a voice from out of her nightmares.

   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Excerpt fromMasters of the Shadowlands 7: This Is Who I Am
She certainly felt like a woman tonight. After Sam had arrived, Linda had fixed supper and scolded him for cutting the carrots too small. His swift grin had set up a beat low in her pelvis. When she’d talked him into playing guitar with her, the sight of his strong fingers wrapped around the neck of the guitar had mesmerized her. When he had picked out a scary movie, she’d agreed, wanting only a reason to burrow into him on the couch.
Every breath had held his scent of the crisp outdoors. Whole and right. And the buzz of awareness that said she was with a man—one she wanted—had never faded.
When the time grew late, he hadn’t confused her with choices. Far too experienced in reading women—in reading her—he’d pulled her to her feet and told her to get ready for bed. That he’d be in soon.
Under the covers, she waited, worries swelling and clogging her throat until she couldn’t swallow. The sheets were cool. Surely that’s why she was shivering.
His footsteps were softer than normal. He’d removed his boots. As he entered the room, though, she saw he still wore his jeans. Thank you, God.
In silence, he pulled the covers back and settled beside her. Warm.
She snuggled against his side with a sigh.
He didn’t move, letting her take things at her own speed. Letting her decide. The beauty of his patience made her eyes well with tears.
The knowledge that he wanted her sent a hum through her system. I know him. He’d touched her intimately at the auction. Again at the Shadowlands. Hands calloused from work moving over her skin. His deep voice whispering in her ear.She wanted him, oh yes, but could she have sex with him without panicking? In San Diego, she’d thought she’d be celibate for…oh, a decade or so. At least. But that was before Sam had set desire simmering deep inside her.
But now what?
In grade school, she’d been so shy that reading aloud had terrified her, and if she stalled, her nervousness increased until she couldn’t speak at all. So she would always volunteer to go first.
Now, even as she lay beside Sam, her anxiety was rising. Time to start while she still could. She pushed up onto one elbow.
In the dim light, his face was shadowy as his pale eyes studied her face. “Tell me what you want to do.”
She took his hand from her shoulder and moved it to her breast. “I want to…to try.”
He didn’t even pretend to misunderstand her. “All right.” His answer was immediate. Simple. “We’re not playing now though. ‘No’ means no. ‘Stop’ means stop. Is that clear?”
Not playing, but you couldn’t take the Dom out of the man. He was still setting the rules. Her lips quivered, then curved. “Yes, Sir.”
His laugh was a rumbled chuckle before he kissed her. Oh, she remembered his lips. Firm and knowledgeable, but more gentle this time. As if he’d let her decide how fast and how far they’d go.
“Condoms?” he asked.
She rolled away, grabbed a packet from the bedside table, and returned to his arms before she lost her nerve.
As he pulled the condom from her clenched fingers, the war started inside her. How could she have asked him for sex? That was disgusting. Sleazy. Bad. She was bad.
When he kissed her, her body stiffened. He lifted his head, his lips an inch from hers. “Talk to me.”
I want this. I don’t. I shouldn’t. “I don’t want to…decide.” She felt wrong. Dirty. Wanting to have sex was—
His eyes narrowed, and then he gripped her hair, holding her head immobile as he took her lips. Not cruelly, not like…them. Them. The slavers. Like an avalanche, memories swept over her, flattening her.
A nasty pinch on her thigh made her jerk. “Stay with me, girl.” His growling voice was like sandpaper, scraping away the horrors, digging down to where her nerves were alive. “Say my name.”
His unyielding expression set up a trembling in her belly that had nothing to do with fear. “Sam.”
“Again.” His left arm around her waist tightened as he closed his other hand on her breast. Cupping, kneading, tugging. His penetrating gaze stayed on her face, and his fingers closed on her nipple. And pinched…
When the pressure turned to pain, sensation streamed in a wave of light and heat straight to her core. “Sam.”
His lips curved in a ruthless smile. “Good that you respond to the reins.” His hand moved to her other breast, no longer gentle but demanding. Yet…careful. Never with the careless brutality that the Overseer— “Ow!” Her hip stung where he’d given it a mean pinch.
“When I want you to think, I’ll tell you.” And how could such an arrogant statement make her stomach drop? He took her lips again, and at the same time she felt him untying the lacing at the top of her nightgown, pushing it to her waist in a whisper of cool silk. His hand returned to her bare breasts. Calloused, abrasive…warm.
“I look forward to using clamps on these,” he whispered in her ear, tugging and pinching. “They’ll hurt like this.” His fingernail dug into the tender flesh until she gasped at the burning pain. He bit her shoulder, adding a new sting to the ones bombarding her body.
Too much. One of the guards had… When they’d all… Hands and agony and… She shoved away frantically, gasping for air.
He released her immediately. But before she could escape, he gripped her shoulders and gave her a firm shake. “Look at me, girl.”
That growl—it haunted her dreams and chased away nightmares. Her eyes popped open and met the blue fire of his. “Sam.”
“That’s right.”
She was trembling hard enough to shake the bed as he sat up next to her. He gripped her, anchoring her with firmness, the levelness of his gaze holding her in safety.
Her heart rate slowed. “I’m sorry.”
The sun lines around his eyes deepened. “You can control your body only so far. Stupid to blame anyone for a physical reaction.”
And no matter how gruff his language, Sam was very far from a stupid person. But she felt dumb. “Why was it easier? At the auction.”
Holding her shoulder with one hand, he ran his fingers through her hair, tugging slightly. “More than one reason. In a room of scumbags, Kim sent me to you. Right?”
She remembered the sense of relief when she’d seen Kim nod her approval at Sam. She’d figured Kim knew something she didn’t. “And you didn’t see me as a slave.” The realization had been overwhelming. He’d seen a person, not an animal. After checking her restraints, he’d looked into her eyes. “You still with me here, Linda?” He’d even used her name.
“You trusted me, no matter how little.” He continued playing with her hair. “But you were scared, and then I hurt you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Fight-or-flight revs up the nerves. So does pain. Means you felt more than normal. So after I’d whipped you, you were loaded with endorphins and in subspace. Turned your head right off.” He cupped her face. “Baby, once you gave me your trust, you were a peach ready to be plucked, and there was nothing you could do about it.”
“Oh.” The explanation helped. “I still shouldn’t have…” She still felt guilty for coming. Felt dirty.
“Do your eyes tear up when you peel an onion?”
“Huh?” What the heck? “Yes.”
“That’s your nerves reacting to chemicals. If you tell yourself not to cry when peeling onions, does that work?”
“No,” she whispered. Nerves and chemicals. A person couldn’t control those. She hadn’t had a chance. The guilt of that orgasm wafted away along with the last of her anger at his actions.
“That’s better.” As he rubbed his cheek against hers, the rough stubble scraped her skin and sent a shiver through her. “But enough warnings. You think about anything but here and now, I’ll spank you.”
His bare hand would slap her bottom. He’d hurt her and… A shiver of need ran up her spine.
He laughed, actually laughed. “Why wait?”
                                           ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Having to wear glasses in elementary school can scar a person for life. Dubbed a nerd at an early age, Cherise Sinclair has been trying to live up to the stereotype ever since. And what better way than being an author?
Known for writing deeply emotional stories, Cherise is the author of fifteen erotic romance novels, most with a BDSM theme. (Please do not mention the phrase mommy porn in her presence.) Her awards extend from a National Leather Award to a Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice nomination to a GoodReads BDSM group award for best author of the year. Called an “ascendant erotica queen” by Rolling Stone Magazine, Cherise spends her days writing, supervised by a sadistic calico cat.
You can find Cherise in the following places:
Website: www.CheriseSinclair.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/CheriseSinclair
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2882485.Cherise_Sinclair
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CheriseSinclair

Huge thank you to Cherise for being on the blog today! I can't wait to get my hands on a copy of this book! For all you blog followers you have a chance to win 1 ecopy of any of Cherise Sinclairs back list books. Just leave a comment and don't forget your email! Good luck and happy reading!