Today I’m happy to host romance author Sidney Bristol. She’s revealing to us the cover of her upcoming title, Picture Her Bound. Please help me welcome back Sidney!
On November 19, 2013, Midnight Ink, an original boxed set of erotic romance novellas set in New Orleans, will ring in the New Year, covered in ink and dripping in sexy good times.
Midnight Ink will also be the start of a brand new BDSM series from me—Sidney Bristol. Set against the bayou, these are stories of those who walk the dangerous line between the law and their natural, darker inclinations. These will be stories with suspense, action and one heck of a fun time, because consent is sexy.
Picture Her Bound
She’s a police officer desperate enough to break the rules. He’s the bounty hunter standing between her and ruin. Picture Her Bound–the first book in the brand new Bayou Bound series from Sidney Bristol–a story of right, wrong and binding pleasures.
Officer Odalia Fouchaeux is a desperate woman. Incriminating photographs of her after-hours job as a fetish model have been stolen and she’s willing to break rules to get them back. Standing in her way? The very dominant bounty hunter Jacques Savoy.
Jacques has been watching out for Officer Foucheaux. He wants her safe from harm as much as he desires her body, her soul—and her submission. Odalia’s in trouble and struggling to walk the line of the law. His solution? Work together to find out who stole her pictures, what the thief wants and how to stop them. And if they find a pleasure unlike any other along the way, well, laissez les bons temps rouler.
Let the good times roll.
Add Picture Her Bound on Goodreads.
The first sneak peek into the Bayou Bound world…
Odalia bent and picked something off—
She turned, holding up the glossy magazine, one brow arched.
A woman, her, sat on a white box, wearing a pair of lace panties that were see-through. One arm was planted on the box, while the other held her hair up. The way her back was arched, the camera caught a glimpse of her breast, but the eye was captured by a vivid black and gray tattoo stretching over her back and down her hip. It was a mural of New Orleans history, so detailed he expected the gator on her side to open its jaws and snap at him. One of the articles was about the rebounding of the alternative lifestyle in the city after Hurricane Katrina.
Odalia’s skin coloring was perfect for such a tattoo. Jacques had asked her outright about her lineage, and it turned out to be a fascinating mix that created the most beautiful canvas. Her mixed-heritage of Spanish, French and Native American descent created a light, warm, sienna tone for the art.
The only thing about the photograph he hadn’t liked was that Odalia’s face was turned away. It was sexy, but he didn’t feel a connection to it without her eyes.
“I told you I recognized you.” She was a hard person to miss at the dungeon. Attractive, physically fit and responsive, he’d seen her with a variety of play partners, but never collared.
“It’s a good shot.”
He glanced at the cover and he wondered what she thought of it now.
“Odalia?” Jacques rose and walked across the loft to her. He took the magazine from her and tossed it back onto the coffee table, next to all his other tattoo and gun magazine subscriptions.
She dropped her chin, staring at his chest. He’d observed Odalia in many states, and never had she seemed this disheartened or depressed. She was spitfire and gin, a Molotov Cocktail in human form. He itched to shake some sense into her. The world wasn’t going to end because of a few pictures.
Jacques reached around her, wrapped her long, glossy hair around his hand and yanked her head back. She gasped. He felt her switch into submissive mode as one might feel the change in air pressure before a storm. It was a palpable thing. Her body softened, bowing toward him and her eyes dilated. She grasped the front of his shirt, fisting it in both hands.
The sweet zing of chemistry flashed between them. He’d sensed it during the photo shoot as he’d bound her, positioned her body and when she posed, she seemed to do so for him, not the camera. But now, outside the bounds of professionalism, he couldn’t help but stare at her lips and wonder, again, what did they feel like? How would she kiss?
She licked her lips and shifted her weight forward.
It would be so easy to take her mouth.
“Boo, I’m going to let go of you, and we’re going to talk about this for a minute, then we’ll figure out how to find the camera. Feel me?”
She flattened her hands against his chest. “Yup.”
Jacques released her and took a step back. She swayed, but remained where she was. They stared at each other, breathing in time.
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About the Author:
It can never be said that Sidney Bristol has had a ‘normal’ life. She is a recovering roller derby queen, former missionary, and tattoo addict. She grew up in a motor-home on the US highways (with an occasional jaunt into Canada and Mexico), traveling the rodeo circuit with her parents. Sidney has lived abroad in both Russia and Thailand, working with children and teenagers. She now lives in Texas where she splits her time between a job she loves, writing, reading and belly dancing.
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