Hello Katerina! Thank you so much
for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!
It’s such a pleasure to chat with you.
So tell me…
Q) Do you plan all your
characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?
It looks like the
characters of my new story Black Cat
Security had it planned all by themselves. It’s a M/F spin-off from my M/M
series The Sons of Gomorrah, though
it can be read as a stand-alone, and its two MCs, Ida and Dragomir, were
supposed to be minor characters in The
House of Fear, nothing more. But Dragomir fiercely demanded he should have
a story of his own, and Ida, being a dominatrix witch, seems to have charmed me
into complying :)
Q) What gave you inspiration for
your book?
Ida has a penchant for
vintage-style things, so I was very much inspired by vintage pulp fiction
covers featuring femmes fatale.
Q) Can you give us a fun or
interesting fact about your book?
While I was writing Black Cat Security, I tried out a
vintage perfume, something Ida would choose—a heavy, heady scent. I liked it a
lot, but now that the story is finished, I can’t fathom why when I smell it—it’s
vicious! Fortunately, it was just a small sample :)
Q) What are your upcoming
projects?
I’m in the process of
polishing the third part of The Sons of
Gomorrah, and I also have a M/M/F story in mind. It will be set in my home
country, Russia
Blurb
Dragomir, a magician
with PTSD and a very inconvenient curse upon him, struggles to make a living,
taking part in illegal boxing matches. Fighting is the only thing he’s good at
now. But how long can he keep it up? The fights are dangerous, and he’s
untrained.
A pretty witch he
meets one night says she might change his life for the better. Is she really
willing to help, or does she have her own wicked plans about him? And can she
succeed where all the magicians of Scholomance have failed?
Warnings (or an
incentive to read): BDSM, FemDom, bondage,
whipping, spanking, pegging… and some magic,
too :)
EXCERPT
When he came to, the first thing he understood: he couldn’t see. A
moment of panic—and then another realization: there was a blindfold of some
kind over his eyes. He was standing with his arms up above him … and wait, were
his hands bound? What the hell? He tried to reach up, rotating his wrists, and
clutched at the chains he was hanging from. Yes, fucking chains. And leather
handcuffs, buckled very tight. And he couldn’t feel any clothes upon himself,
just something around his neck in addition to his dog tag.
Then he remembered. Ida. Her apartment. Talking about his curse. She
said they had to negotiate…
And after that—nothing.
He jerked at the chains, hard. And again, and a few times more. They
didn’t give. There was some slack, so at least his arms weren’t pulled up too tautly,
but he couldn’t break free.
“You must be wondering what happened to you,” Ida said somewhere to his
left.
“You agreed to an experiment, remember? And here you are. A fine
specimen for a very interesting test.”
Her hand touched his chest lightly, out of nowhere, and he jolted at the
contact as if she prodded him with a stun baton.
She chuckled quietly. “So skittish. But it’s understandable. Everyone
would be jumpy in your place.” Her hand wandered across his pecs, brushed his
nipple, and disappeared. “I’ll let you adjust. Try tugging at the chains again
if you want to check whether they will break or not. I allow you. But here’s a
spoiler: they won’t. It’s not some rusty old shackles. They are good and new,
very sturdy, and secured to an eyehook in the ceiling. There had been a large
chandelier hanging from it once, so it’s quite reliable. I redecorated the room
long ago, but I always thought the hook would come in handy one day. It’s a
mild nuisance the handcuffs have to be hanging so high—I’m not that tall. But a
bit of hypnosis, and you helped me to restrain you most eagerly.”
What the hell was going on?
As if through a fog, Dragomir remembered saying yes to some kind of
experiment and even filling and signing a yes/no negotiation form, but it was a
vague memory, distant and dream-like. Everything else—a boxing match, a fight
before that—seemed even more surreal.
Ida’s hand slipped along his flank, ticklishly, up to his neck, and
tugged at what he realized was a collar.
“And this is to ensure you
wouldn’t break free using magic. Quite a special thing. Leather, silver, and a
security spell. Meant especially for wayward mages, something of the kind they
use in prisons when incarcerating a person with enhanced abilities.” She
slipped a finger under the band around his throat, making it too tight, almost
choking him. “So you will behave, no matter whether you want it or not. A bad
boy will be a good boy for a change.”
“What are you doing?” he rasped out.
“Just making you harmless. Wasn’t it what you wanted, to cause no harm
to me?”
Was she mocking him?
He stood there, wearing nothing but a collar, a dog tag, and a
blindfold. It was ridiculous. Laughable. Humiliating.
And scary.
Rationally, he knew he probably had nothing to worry about. Or did he?
But anyway, all rational thoughts gave way to a primitive bodily
reaction—discomfort at being tied up, helpless. It felt like he was itching all
over under his skin with uneasiness bordering on unwanted panic, too exposed,
deprived of sight. He tried to wriggle his wrists out of the handcuffs instead
of jerking at the chains, but to no avail.
“Nope, the handcuffs will hold, too,” Ida warned him. “I checked, and
not just once. As I might have said, I do a bit of coaching now and then, but
of an unusual kind. I call it expanding boundaries. Experiencing new
sensations. It doesn’t normally include sex, but for you, I might make an
exception.”
A peck of a kiss between his shoulder blades. Hands running up and down
his sides, in a comforting manner, but at the same time, it was unnerving. He
tried to twist away from her touch, stubbornly, but she squeezed his hips,
adding a hint of nails.
“Sshh, don’t twitch, hold still,” she said, “or I’ll pull up the chains.
They say it’s extremely painful to hang from your wrists. Excruciating.”
“Oh yeah?” he managed. “Someone else complained?”
“And very loudly. Good thing this room is soundproof. As I said, it had
been redecorated.”
Her arms went ‘round him. She was still clothed, but he could feel her
little perky breasts pressing against his back. His cock, already half-hard,
immediately went into a very interested mode. It didn’t seem to mind the
strangeness of the situation.
Buy links
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Black-Cat-Security-Katerina-Ross-ebook/dp/B079YWC96V/
Evernight Publishing (it’s cheaper here): http://www.evernightpublishing.com/black-cat-security-by-katerina-ross/
Social media
links
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/people/Katerina-Ross/100012647831003
Tumblr: http://tenderlywicked.tumblr.com
