Please welcome my guest, H.C. Brown. She will be telling about herself and about her work. She will also be sharing a hot excerpt from her latest Hurt Me Good.
- Welcome, H.C. Brown! It’s lovely to have you as my guest. A quick look at your list of publications and it’s clear you are a writer of many talents. What genre is closest to your heart?
H.C. Thank you so much for having me today. It’s so nice to visit another author of BDSM .
I love writing M/M Erotic BDSM with a touch of adventure and M/F or M/F/M Fantasy/paranormal Erotic Romance about the same, so I usually alternate those genres.
- Is it difficult for you to move on from one (main) character to the next? Do you have a strong preference for a certain kind of hero?
H.C. I hate to say goodbye to the characters that have lived in my head for three months or longer , so I write a lot of series.
- Do you remember how you felt when your first book was accepted by a publisher?
H.C. The feeling never changes. Disbelief at first I think, and then the Happy Dancing quickly follows.
- What do you enjoy the most about writing? And what the least?
H.C. I write every day of my life. What I hate is not having time to write more. I have a set time for writing and do six hours straight through. The rest of my day is the usual things we do plus emails and promotion for my books. I usually work on three or four stories at once so I’m always busy.
- I know that (almost) all writers are readers. What is your preferred reading material?
H.C. I love historical romance especially about Scottish highlanders. Love Diana Gabaldon.
6. Do you have time for any hobbies?
H.C. I like to walk on the beach and I paint. I love to paint warriors fighting or dragons. I do fantasy scenes, unicorns and faeries too. Not that I have much time to paint anymore.
7. What is your latest publication? Please tell us as much about it as you want.
H.C. Hurt Me Good came into my head after seeing a friend’s tattoo. We had a chat about his time as a stripper in gay clubs and how, he made the ink come to life in his act. We talked about many things that night about leather clubs and stripping in general. The conversation replayed in my mind and formed the story Hurt Me Good and the sequel I’m writing now. Although, all of the events in my stories are fictional. The conversation was just the catalyst.
It had to be a D/s story.
I’ve been around rock ‘n’ roll all my adult life, so Hurt Me Good and Take Me, Break Me, another story with Dreamspinner coming out March 2013 are set in the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle and in Hurt Me Good, I introduced an arrogant vanilla stripper with a lurid past into the mix called Flame.
Here is the book trailer for Hurt Me Good. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-yAKiV8-c8&feature=youtu.be
Here’s an excerpt of Hurt Me Good. ADULTS ONLY:
Sweat stung his eyes. His muscles cramped. The overexertion burned, sizzling through shoulders to biceps shuddering with effort. The weight bar slipped in Harper Cole’s damp grasp. The massive weight dropped, stopping inches from crushing his neck. He gripped the bar tighter. Pain radiated through his jaw from clenched teeth. He panted. I’m like a fucking woman in labor.
“Put your back into it!—One more. Come on, you fucking wimp,” his spotter screamed.
“Fuck you.” Harper dragged in a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and shoved from his gut.
The barbell slammed into the frame. Giddy from exertion, Harper slowly rolled up. Although he wanted to cuss out his cousin, Josh, he grinned. “That’s enough for today. Thanks for spotting me, man.”
“Enough?” Josh eyed him critically. “You spend too much time in your office. You’re getting soft.” He raised a brow. “You used to be fit, man. Fuck, only two years ago you were rocking out on stage with Too Hotz and doing world tours. Being a millionaire has turned you into a pussy.”
Harper peeled the long, sweat-soaked strands of hair from his face and secured the shoulder-length mass with a strip of leather. “Soft? I work out every day.” Admittedly, not like the torturous session he had endured today. Josh had pushed him to the limit. Fuck, his arms ached like a bitch.
“You need to be moved out of your comfort zone.” Josh shrugged. “Or you’ll end up with a barrel instead of a six-pack.”
With a grunt, Harper glared at Josh. “I can beat your best by ten presses, wimp.”
“Oh yeah?” Josh raised a brow. “Are you challenging me, cuz?”
“Fuck yeah. Every morning, here, at eight,” Harper growled. “No one beats me.”
“You’re on.” Josh narrowed his eyes. “One week will sort out who has the biggest balls.”
“I’ve won already.” Harper smirked and rolled his numb shoulders. His gaze drifted across the gym. A vision of male perfection sliced into his line of sight. Wearing nothing but a baggy blue T-shirt and a towel slung low about his narrow waist, the young man moved with seductive grace toward him. The delectable apparition stopped less than five feet away. A sharp stab of awareness curled in Harper’s balls. Damn. The sweet thing went up on his toes to collect a fresh towel from the stack beside the door to the sauna. The vision reached up to the shelf and exposed a glimpse of tight buttocks.
This twink had everything Harper craved for in a sub, including the small nubile body and delicate features to the shock of ruby hair. The man had cut his hair very short above his ears. From the crown of his head silken strands fell over one side of his face. The rest of the long center mass had been styled in a wide Mohawk fashion. The top spilled over, sending a cascade of red tumbling down to the twink’s shoulders. Harper’s gaze dropped to the diamond studs glistened in both ears. Hmm—high maintenance.
Groaning inwardly, Harper took in the arched brows, the full lips held in a sullen pout. Hot damn, the look of insolence in the boy’s deep blue eyes made Harper’s cock throb in anticipation. He shut his mouth with a click. Shit, had he been staring openmouthed at the tempting man? How fucking infantile was that? Dragging air into his lungs, he lifted his chin toward the young man heading into the sauna. He pounded a fist against his heart. “Have… mercy.” His gaze followed the guy across the room. Fuck, he would get off just rimming the sweet thing’s navel. “Now that is a wet dream walking.”
“Don’t waste your time.” Josh ran a hand through his hair. “The boy is vanilla all the way. Trust me, many have tried to get close but that guy might as well live on a different planet.” He threw a towel at Harper. “Not even you will be able to win him over.”
With a growl of disgust, Harper turned to his cousin. The man had a “you’re fucked”grin. “Is that another challenge, cuz? Nah, don’t bother. That sweet boy is mine.” He scratched the itchy day-old bristles on his chin. “What do you know about him? How old is he?”
“That delicious piece of ass is a dancer by the name of Flame. I met him on a shoot I did last month for Rock On magazine. He does a lot of work on music clips and a spot on Friday nights at the Lala Club on Grove. I’d say he’s around twenty-three. The Lala doesn’t allow strippers to work underage, and Flame’s danced there for over a year. He’s one hell of a stripper.” Josh headed for the locker room. “I’m guessing you’ll want a sauna about now?” He turned and grinned at Harper. “I’ll join you until things get too hot.”
Harper relaxed the tension in his jaw. Being attracted to a barely legal boy was not his style. Okay, so he liked his men small, but not wimps. He craved a sub with an in your face attitude. Oh yeah, to have one submit to his flogger would be a dream made in heaven. Fighting the urge to lick his lips, he followed Josh into the changing room, stripped off, and then made his way to the sauna. Wrapped in a white fluffy towel barely covering his aching cock, he sat on a bench opposite the young man. Apart from Josh, propped up in the corner at the far end of the room, and sweet thing, the room was deserted. He smiled into the steam. The boy had stripped off his shirt to reveal pierced nipples. So, you’re not opposed to piercings. Fuck, I’d like to suckle those tight little buds. Harper unconsciously fingered the bar stud in his nipple and had the sudden inexplicable desire to drop his towel to display the stud piercing his shaft. He glanced at Josh, stretched out on a bench with his eyes shut. The memory of the dare, which resulted in his cock stud, flashed through his mind. He had vaguely remembered making the bet with Josh during an evening of drunken stupidity. Harper groaned inwardly and recalled neither of them would back down. Man, he’d never forget the subsequent weeks of forced celibacy he had endured following that night.
Harper’s gaze travelled over the young man. The smell of Flame’s sweat, fresh and intoxicating, drifted over him. His heart raced at the sight of lickable ,smooth, hairless skin on the dancer’s chest, belly, and legs. He ran his tongue around his mouth imagining the taste of damp, waxed flesh. A tattoo of a blue dragon wrapped around the delicious guy’s left side, disappearing around his back, and circling his waist. The long forked tail curled tantalizingly around one thigh. He fought the overpowering desire to grab the offending towel obscuring his vision. Damn, he wanted to see where the rest of the dragon lay. Perhaps the dragon’s head rested in a nest of flaming red curls. Fuck, the thought alone made his cock rear up for action.
Apart from a body Harper craved to lick slowly all over, the young dancer had the face of an angel—well not angelic—ethereal. The sweet thing would make one hell of a fae character in one of his stories. Although small, Flame had the sculpted muscle—the kind that bunched under restraints. Hell yeah. Harper licked his lips. Over taut muscle stretched white unmarked skin—the kind that blushed under his flogger. Fuck, he would start to drool at any moment.
Available in trade paperback or ebook.
You can find H.C. Brown here: