If We Could Go Back – Outtake

Hi there! I usually post my mini outtakes on the Instagram account @CamassiaSocial, but this week, the outtake got a little too long! So I’m posting it here. Enjoy. 🙂

If We Could Go…Get Married

“Fancy running into you here.” I smiled as I reached him on the steps.

He grinned faintly and adjusted my tie. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Nothing had been lost so much as I’d…made some last-minute changes to something we’d bought together. “All good to go.” I kissed him quickly and glanced back at the children. Jess wasn’t a fan of wearing a suit one bit. “You all look lovely.” Jaylin, on the other hand, loved her new dress. My sister had taken her shopping in Seattle.

Nate checked his watch. “We should go. You’re going to miss your appointment.”

Well, that was out of the question. It was an important appointment.

oOo

The nerves hit me with full force when we stepped into the office where thousands of couples had vowed eternal love and devotion before us. The place wasn’t as bland as I’d expected; nice fabrics covered the walls, and two big bouquets of flowers flanked the spot where the officiant was already speaking to us.

I should listen, if I could just hear past the rushing sound in my ears.

Then Kieran squeezed my hand, and I exhaled. This was us. Him and me. The day was finally here. This moment—how I’d hoped, lost hope, and hoped again that we’d stand here one day.

Oh God, we were getting married. I drew an unsteady breath and faced Kieran, and I immediately got caught in his warm, nervous, a bit amused gaze. Years had passed since I’d first noticed his captivating eyes, the green and deep blue mingling with gray, the faint crinkles at the corners that’d slowly appeared over time… He was my home.

This is it, my love. At long last.

oOo

I swallowed hard, and my vision suddenly became blurry.

“Do you, Bennett Brooks, take Kieran Marshall to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for as long as you both shall live?”

Easiest answer I could ever give. “I do.”

He grinned with a pinch of relief. I knew he hadn’t been worried whatsoever, but it was still a milestone. Still a confirmation. A promise.

“Do you, Kieran Marshall, take Bennett Brooks to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for as long as you both shall live?”

The second I heard his low, rich murmur, it felt like my heart doubled in size.

“I absolutely fucking do.”

I exhaled a laugh and quickly brushed my hand under my eyes.

oOo

“You’ve prepared vows,” the officiant continued. “You may share them now.”

Thank bloody goodness we’d agreed to keep things brief. Anything over my well-rehearsed three sentences would’ve been lost and forgotten behind stammers and throat-clearing.

I cleared my throat and gripped his hands a little tighter. “Looking back on things today, I know with certainty that you changed something in me irrevocably the very first time I saw you on the train. I thought you were an enigma, a puzzle to solve, when in reality, you were a hidden path guiding me home. I love you with everything I am, Kieran, and I can’t wait to continue building our future together.”

“Aww,” I heard Jaylin whisper.

Kieran sniffled and grinned. “And you claim you’re not a smooth talker, baby… Christ.” It was his turn to clear his throat. “I could say a million things about how I fell in love with you, how you became my best friend and biggest support—and how we ended up here today.” His gaze softened. “But I just wanna look ahead. I wanna grow old with you. I want our home to be the place where our children and future grandchildren create memories to last a lifetime—of holidays and sleepovers and rainy Tuesdays. Because of you, Ben, I see those images so clearly. I love you.”

I couldn’t wait for a stranger to tell me it was okay to kiss Kieran. I closed the distance and cupped his jaw, then kissed him hard because it was all I had. Words failed me.

oOo

Shortly after, we exchanged rings and were declared husbands. In my darkest hours, I hadn’t even believed I’d ever find a happiness that could match the one I’d felt with Kieran. Now, today…I was high on his energy, high on what we’d just done, high on all our possibilities. Kieran wasn’t the nameless enigma on the train anymore. He was my husband.

We left the city hall together and trailed down the wide steps with our children, and I couldn’t let go of his hand. Even with relief and joy surging through me, I had a death grip on him as I processed all my emotions. It was unbelievable—after everything we’d been through. Now we were going back home, back to our house, where family and friends would join us for a wedding party only an Englishman and an Irishman could put together on a school night.

Although, we’d been kind enough to let the kids skip school tomorrow.

“I feel so fucking dazed,” Kieran chuckled.

“That’s common,” Nate said frankly. “In fact, many couples forget the details of their weddings as the tension fades.”

I grinned and pressed a kiss to Kieran’s cheek. We could trust our eldest to have done research. It was kind of the perfect wedding for us two.

oOo

On the way back home, Kieran drove, I sat next to him and held his hand, and our kids bickered in the backseat. Nate was apparently stealing two inches of space of Jess’s seat, Jaylin’s hair was everywhere according to Nate, and Kieran and I were old, to quote Jess, because only old people were married.

“This is the life.” Kieran sighed contentedly and brought my hand to his lips. “By the way, what was it you forgot at home earlier?”

I smiled. “I didn’t forget anything. I was picking up our rings after I put in a last-minute request.”

He furrowed his brow.

“I had them engraved,” I admitted.

He clearly couldn’t wait to check out the inscription, so he pulled off his ring and kept one eye on the road. “Jesus, baby,” he murmured. “I love you. You don’t know how much.”

“We get it, you love each other!” Jess groaned from the back. “I’m never getting a girlfriend.”

I snorted softly. Sure, let him think that for another year or two, and then he’d start dating and never look back.

oOo

Until next time,

Cara

BDSM In My Romance

When I started writing the Game Series, my main goal was to portray kink and BDSM as accurately as possible. I’m not in any way an expert, but after some ten active years in the lifestyle, I’ve been to my fair share of events, meets, and parties. And BDSM communities are beautiful the way they are. They’re not perfect. Far from it. There’s drama, people come in broken, others have unrealistic expectations, many are just having fun, some take it way too seriously, some discover what their actual limits are, and so on and so on.

I wanted to bring all that into my new series. The different peoples, the unconventional dynamics, and the clashes.

Oh, the clashes!

I think back on when I wrote the Touch Series. Realism was important to me even then, realism in how I portrayed the kink. But suddenly, my characters were flawless! Oh, they had trust issues, they fucked up, and they caused some minor drama. But once I put two main characters together, their kinks lined up perfectly and they rode off into the sunset together.

I’m not smack-talking my own series. I loved writing Touch. It took place in a time where I was evolving a lot in kink, and each story got more fleshed out. Starting with a dreamy, insta-love age-play novelette, ending with a full-length novel about a triad finally finding their way after many hiccups. The Touch Series is in many ways my baby.

The Game Series is different. Not only because my play has advanced over the years but because I’ve learned that BDSM isn’t about toys and playrooms. It’s about people.

The series started out pretty easy. Two Tops accidentally falling in love. Chemistry is a controlling little bitch, and we can’t help who we fall for. So in Top Priority, I wanted two Daddy Doms to get knocked on their asses. But they found their way, and then they found it again in Their Boy, where they meet their third. Happily ever after for everyone!

In Breathless, I wanted to delve into sadism. Those of you who follow me on Facebook know I lovingly (sometimes not-so-lovingly) refer to my partner as The Sadist. Because he is one. Big-time Sadist. Many ouchies. So much pain.

He’s a bit of a dick too. (I love you!)

But anyway. Because of that troll, and our experiences, Breathless was an outlet. I wrote what I’d actually lived through, in many of the cases, definitely not all.

I won’t spoil anything.

Now comes Doll Parts…

Doll Parts is the next book in the Game Series, and it’s…different. It took me weeks to figure out if I disliked my own writing or if I loved it. Then it slowly dawned on me that I knew these characters. I’ve met versions of them in every BDSM community I’ve been in. I’d finally reached my own goal of portraying kink the way I wanted to, because I was writing people who actually exist. Not to mention scenes that’ve happened so many times.

The imperfect Master. The Daddy who has his own insecurities. The kinksters who don’t abide to every safety rule there is. The scene that didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations. Limits changing. Dynamics evolving because someone is poly and another is monogamous. Kinksters with mental health problems and disabilities. Different body types. (Although, so far, I’ve given you nothing but abs and tattoos! But don’t worry, I can’t wait for y’all to meet Gael. He’s a sweetheart.)

BDSM brings ALL kinds of people together, and all their various shades of different will alter their new relationships, their fetishes, and their views.

That’s what I wanna write. That’s what I’m writing. Those are the people I wanna give Happily Ever Afters to.

I’m excited for you to read Doll Parts. It has all the puzzle pieces. (That will make sense when you’ve read it.)

I’m excited for you to meet Noa, Cameron, Lucian, and KC.

I’m excited for you to see their differences coming together.

No pun intended.

(I’m also really excited about Out of the Ashes, the book that follows, but that’s a story for another day.)

Before I wrap up, I thought I’d give you a li’l teaser from Doll Parts.

PEACE,

Cara

*

Doll Parts Teaser

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and wondered how the hell I hadn’t connected the dots sooner. Fuck, it was hot. I ran a hand through my hair and looked around me. The restaurant was right on the corner of a busy intersection, and the sleepy locals on their way to brunch were sharing the sidewalk with tourists.

Maybe I should text him and call it off…

“Excuse me, are you going to the munch?”

I cocked my head to the guy to my left. He was about my age, I estimated.

“What if I didn’t know what a munch was?”

He grinned, and it was hot. Hot and cute. “I would’ve said never mind and hightailed it out of here,” he replied. “But I’ve been around long enough to spot someone too nervous to join an event.”

Oh. I wasn’t nervous to join an event. My very first munch, I’d been the first to arrive.

I scratched my head. “I’m stalling because I’m pretty sure I’m barging into someone else’s territory,” I admitted. “My mom’s ex-husband is kinky too.”

The guy made a yikes-face, and I felt the need to elaborate.

“I check his Instagram sometimes, and if he posts four pictures every month, one is from this place,” I explained. “Usually with a caption like ‘Luke is teaching me to post foodporn, whatever that is’ and ‘Macklin’s eggs Benedict are a bit of a religious experience.’”

I could tell I’d mentioned names the guy recognized. I was right. This was the munch of KC’s kink community. Motherfucker. I’d seen eight pictures from this place on KC’s dusty Instagram—or parts of the place. Mostly from the rooftop terrace. Maybe that was where they hosted the munch.

“You know them, don’t you?” I pressed.

The guy smiled uncertainly and shrugged slightly. “We take integrity seriously, but…”

Yeah.

“Who’s your mother’s ex-husband?”

“KC Hayles.”

He nodded once. He’d heard that name too. Then he eyed someone else, or two someones, coming up the sidewalk. They were twins. Hot-as-shit set of twins in their forties.

One of them smirked upon seeing the guy I’d been talking to. “You hidin’, Cameron?”

I observed the guy’s reaction. Cameron. A crooked grin full of mischief lit up his face. He was really fucking cute, and I didn’t usually feel attraction toward men my age. He was a bit taller than me but not much. Blue eyes.

“Does that sound like something I would do, Sir?” Cameron countered. Definitely a submissive.

One of the twins chuckled and ruffled Cameron’s shaggy, dirty-blond hair. “See you upstairs, boy.” He spared me the quickest of glances, lifted his brow a little, maybe in curiosity, before he and his brother took the steps up to the restaurant.

Cameron turned back to me. “It’s possible you’ve stumbled upon your stepdad’s community.”

I figured. “I’ll just reschedule with the guy I was gonna meet. Thanks for letting me know.”

It wasn’t too important I met him today anyway. It was only a bite to eat to see if I was compatible to play with him and his boyfriend.

Cameron cleared his throat. “Hey, wait. If you know KC… Does that mean you know Lucian too?”

That would be a stretch. “I’ve met him a few times, sure. I wouldn’t say I know him, though.” I’d had my suspicions about Lucian—that he was kinky too. It wasn’t a surprise whatsoever to have it confirmed. He was big-time Master material. “Why, are you together or something?”

Cameron snorted. “I wish. No, he’s with some dude who’s manipulating him like fucking whoa, and Lucian won’t see it.”

I frowned. That didn’t compute with my impression of Lucian.

“Anyway,” Cameron went on. “Here’s a crazy idea. You wanna get out of here and grab a burger or something? Your plan fell through, and I can think of better things to do than watch Lucian and his little troll.”

I stood straighter instantly. This guy wanted to hang out? Fuck yes! I could use a new friend. “Absolutely,” I said, sticking out my hand. “I’m Noa.”

Cameron smiled, visibly relieved. “Cameron.”

*

The Game Series

#1, Top Priority – HERE – Colt/Lucas

#2, Their Boy – HERE – Kit/Colt/Lucas

#3, Breathless – HERE – Shay/River/Reese

#3.5, The Air That I Breathe – HERE – River/Reese

#4, Doll Parts – Coming in February! – Cam/Noa/Lucian/KC

#5, Out of the Ashes – TBA – Kingsley/Tate/Franklin

#6, TBA

Tips n’ Trix #1: Writer’s Block

More often lately, I get emails and messages from new writers asking for advice and/or for me to read their first novel. And while I rarely have the time to read, I don’t want to turn anyone away either, because who doesn’t remember being new and uncertain about how the industry works?

As an avid list-maker, I can think of no better assistance than compiling lists of my own go-to advice for when things go south one way or another. Writer’s block is one of those things, so I thought I’d start with that.

I have a handful projects that’ve left me completely stumped. I can’t write a single word on those stories. Some projects aren’t meant to be; some are meant to wait until I’m in a different mental space or period of my life. Those characters simply have to be patient. But most of the time, really, I can shatter that block. Because sometimes I have to admit to myself that the reason I have a writer’s block is because I’m lazy and have half-assed something in the writing process, like character development or a plot point. Therefore, a writer’s block is a good indicator for me to go back and see what I can do different. Like a built-in radar saying hold up, this doesn’t pass the test.

1.) Give your character a personality test. Sometimes I haven’t taken enough to time to get to know my character, and if I’m struggling to write them, I go to www.16personalities.com and answer as the person I’m writing. Is he a leader type? Is she introverted? Does he work with his hands? Will she cancel on that party because she’s drained after a long day? Is she the kind of woman who will lose three hours doing Buzzfeed quizzes? (If the answer is yes, I go to Buzzfeed too.) Giving my character more layers kick-start the writing more often than not.

2.) Music is a big part of writing for me, as it is for many authors. If I fail to connect with my character, I make sure I’m listening to the right music. The book isn’t about me, so I shouldn’t be listening to music I like. I should go for the music my character enjoys. Sometimes the Sadist comes home and finds me blasting some obscure metal band, and he’ll just stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. And I’ll yell, it’s not for me! It’s for a character. And the funny thing is, that makes sense to him. He’s so used to my writer quirks by now. 🙂 Either way, it’s another helpful way to become one with whoever I’m writing, and it doesn’t stop at music. If you gotta walk a mile in your character’s shoes, go ahead. Cook their favorite food, watch their favorite TV shows, etc.

3.) Time to go back. Many times when I can’t seem to type another word in a story, it’s that radar going off. I’ve done something wrong. Something is messed up with the story. So I go back and figure out what part I’m not completely satisfied with. If my characters are alive and kicking in my brain, chances are they will let me know. Hey, woman, what you wrote here is out of character for me.

4.) No, I mean it, the book isn’t about me. Occasionally, that block gets slammed into place when I realize I’ve inserted myself into the story. I go back and reread my words and see that they’re my opinions, my views, not my character’s. That’s a big no-no. Casey as a secondary character in Path of Destruction is one of them. I loved writing that guy; he was so sweet and funny and equally insecure and ballsy, and it sort of swept me away. I began writing musings that reflected my own person, and then I stopped. I couldn’t write more. I also couldn’t figure out why because I liked this dude! I could relate to him. And of course I could. As I went back, it was clear as day. He’d taken over the story that wasn’t even about him, and the words he spoke were mine. I rewrote every word in the scenes he was in. I was mildly freaked out too, and felt the need to distance myself from him. That’s why I made him a Pepsi lover. #TeamCokeZero.

5.) Push it. A story has to flow naturally to be good, but it’s important to see the difference between the story and the writing. Being an author is still a job, and no job is 100% “go with the flow.” Sometimes I have to push myself to write. Some scenes and chapters are less fun but necessary, and if I always followed the “only write when you want to” rule, I’d never finish a book. Imagine telling a businessman to only do what’s fun. Imagine telling a factory worker to only work when he felt like it. It doesn’t work that way. A cocky wiseguy pops up in my head and goes, nah, motherfucker, get outta hea’ wid’at shit. (His name is Dominic, and he is loud.)

6.) …but sometimes, you gotta walk away. Take a break. Watch TV, go shopping, head out for a long walk. Clear your head. Staring at a document all day, without the ability to add more words, will only make us blind and pissed off. This is how certain items get chucked at the wall. So spare your phone or the nearby remote control and step away. Sometimes a few hours are enough, sometimes you need a week or more. Come back with a fresh perspective and perhaps new impressions and events to add to the story.

7.) Which brings us to…PLOT TWIST. This is sort of a final resort for me, and it has to make sense; it has to be what was missing. But every now and then, a plot twist is the right answer and will bring the writing back to life.

Last but not least, I have some advice on how to prevent a writer’s block. As everything else here, the advice is highly individual, and what works for me might not work for you.

1.) If you find yourself staring up the hill of Mt. Writer’s block frequently, it might be a good idea to change your writing process/strategy. Speaking from my own experience, I used to have the entire story mapped out in my head. And I got bored. I got so freaking bored because I already knew what was going to happen, and I need the writing to surprise me with twists and turns too. So I stopped mind-mapping and figuring it all out before I started. Now, before I begin, I know the gist. I know the beginning, I know the ending, and I know the major plot points. The rest…I let the characters lead the way. This is why my two closest, Lisa and Eliza, laugh their asses off whenever I claim, I’m gonna write a short novella! Let’s just say, Dirty Chef was supposed to be a short story. Their Boy(!) was supposed to be a novella. Same with We Have Till Dawn, We Have Till Monday, and The Job. Safe to say, my head bitches in charge don’t trust me for shit.

1.5.) Or you could need the opposite. If you get stuck because your mind is a chaotic mess and you can’t untangle the web you’re weaving, perhaps you’d do better with a mind map or a list. A quick summary of each chapter could help you stay on track.

2.) Is writing your full-time job? Do you have kids running around you all day? Is life busy? My rule of thumb is to finish a first draft fairly quickly. That way, the story is the only thing that exists in my head, and I don’t sidestep or forget what I’ve written. It stays fresh in my memory, from start to finish. But with this approach, I have to adjust my writing to fit my personal life. If life is busy and I’m juggling one too many projects, I’ll write a shorter and simpler story. I save the monster projects that require months of research for when I have the time to sit down and really get into it. No book deserves to be half-assed, amirite?

There you have it! I hope at least some of it was helpful and that you can crush that writer’s block.

Until next time,

-Cara

The O’Sullivan Outlaws are Ready to Steal You Away – New MM Release!

The O’Sullivan brothers will steal you away to the grit and glitz of Las Vegas in this fast-paced romance. 

MM Romance | Family | Crime | Humor | Suspense | Standalone

I’m not supposed to do this job without Boone.

We may not share genes, but it’s been us against the world since his mom took me in as a toddler. The rowdy O’Sullivan boys who raised all the hell that Vegas could handle. Not that all my memories are wild and make my heart race. After all, I realized I was in love with the bastard at some point, so there’s been plenty of pathetic yearning and jealousy too. 

Even so, it’s been him and me. Brothers, partners in crime, and, for the past six years, co-parents to an amazing little girl. But that’s another story. Right now, I gotta focus on the job our cousin gave us, and I need Boone by my side.

The problem is we haven’t really been on speaking terms for four years now.

Click Here | The Job on Amazon | Click Here

This story takes place in Cara Dee’s Camassia Cove Universe, a fictional town where all books stand on their own, unless otherwise stated, and the reader can jump in wherever they want. 

My Autistic Perspective as an Author

Tomorrow is #WorldAutismAwarenessDay, and I thought it was fitting to write a post about that on the day I send my next novel to my editor. Because I’m rarely so autistic as I am after I’ve finished a big project. 

It happens the moment I click save and send it off. Like a flip of a switch, the research brain that’s been running on fumes with 74 open tabs begins to power down, and I find myself sitting on the couch with a Coke Zero, staring off into space, without the ability to grasp what’s going on in my head. My thoughts become jumbled, exhaustion kicks in, and I become hypersensitive to new impressions. 

This is the wrong time to ask me what’s for dinner, because chances are I won’t be able to make up my mind and I’ll just start crying instead. Which sounds way more dramatic than it is; it’s just how decompression works for me. I need space, and I need quiet to untangle the mess in my noggin’. 

At times, it almost feels like I’m drunk. I get sluggish and a bit dopey. 🙂 Because it’s a release too. All the tension from intense work starts to fade away, and that’s definitely a nice feeling!

I do wish I was better at sharing personal thoughts about this on social media sometimes, not necessarily for my own sake, but because I know there are many undiagnosed people out there who grow up thinking there’s something wrong with them. That was me for the longest time, until I was in my twenties. I process things differently, whether it’s humor or grief, my daily schedule or my long-term goals in life, the news or music I’ve listened to, etcetera. I compartmentalize like a pro, and it’s a coping mechanism to keep my organized chaos somewhat tidy. 

Different doesn’t equal wrong, though. Sure, there are things that get lost in translation with neurotypical people, but mishaps are part of life. It’s partly why I enjoy writing autistic characters, because it gives me a chance to journal my own experiences behind the face of a character. So while I may not often share personal thoughts on Facebook, there’s truth in every fictional character I produce. A bit of it, anyway! It’s also a way to show readers how autistic persons might process something, or how some of us reach certain conclusions. 

An added bonus, a humbling one, is having readers reach out to me—often mothers of autistic children—who worry about the future. Parents want their kids to grow up happy and have the same opportunities as everyone else, of course. Find love, work, friends, and so on. Things that no one can ever promise anyone—but the scenarios we paint, those of us who write autistic characters in contemporary fiction, can at least show possibilities. We can, to an extent, bridge a gap between questions and answers, worries and hopes. And that’s pretty cool to me.

Of course, this is still fiction. While I think extensive research is the backbone to any good book, I’m not one of those who demand 100% accuracy in every portrayal. Sometimes I stumble upon posts on Facebook and Twitter where people more or less lose their shit over something they’ve read, and they found it entirely unrelatable. Yeah, well. Someone else might relate. I’ve read autistic characters that make me cock an eyebrow and go, “Yeah, right!” But you know, we’re not all the same. Far from it. Not everyone will relate to my characters either. They’re not meant to. I’d like for my characters to stand on their own, and if someone finds themselves nodding along and thinking, hey, I’m just like that, it’s another bonus. 

My point is, I appreciate authors who want to challenge themselves and write something new. They don’t need to know someone with autism, they don’t have to be autistic, just give it a go. Research and write your heart out. To me, intentions matter.

Awareness is always good. It leads to discussions and open debates. 

It leads to more perspectives. 

This is just mine.

xo,

Cara

New Merch in the Store!

New merch update!

More “Daddy” key rings; as promised: the new key ring from The Game Series that comes with a unique member’s ID to House Mclean, the kink community River and Reese started; Adam Grady’s very own seasoning mix (I kid you not,) bookmarks, or why not a personal Path of Destruction backstage pass lanyard?

https://www.caradeewrites.com/store

Exclusive Content from Cara (Plus a new release!)

Hi there! 

I’ve copy-pasted my newsletter here today, because I wanted y’all to get a look at the changes I’m introducing. Because, free outtakes and stuff. So here goes!

Starting right now, my newsletter will look a little different. You’ll receive an update from me once a month—no more, no less—and you can count on exclusive content. For instance, every newsletter will have a free outtake from one of my books! Or rather, from the couples I write about. Sometimes it’ll be a one-page shorty, sometimes a 30-page monstrosity 😉 More often than not, somewhere in between.

But first! A hot, spankin’ new release that goes live tomorrow, on Nov 19. Available for preorder!

MM | Autism in Romance | Roleplay | Age Difference | Standalone

Nicky Fender retired from sex work two years ago and never looked back. Then an offer he can’t refuse comes his way, and he agrees to one last exclusive arrangement. But when he meets Gideon, this older, smoking hot, uncertain, filthy, autistic businessman on a quest to explore his sexuality, Nicky wishes sunrise would never come.


Available in Kindle Unlimited!

Join us for release day shenanigans in my Facebook group on November 19-20! You can find my group here.

Nicky and his brother are musicians, and they have their own playlist on Spotify. You can follow it right here.

Before I unleash the first outtake on y’all, I just wanted to mention that I’m currently working on several projects, including Kellan and Shannon’s story (an MM standalone spinoff from the This Life Universe,) the next book for Gray and Darius, a secret project, and an MF titled Her All Along. If you’re a fan of Darius in the Auctioned Series, not to mention the rest of the Quinn family, Her All Along will give you a big glimpse into their past. But more on that later!

Here’s your first outtake, and I will see you in the next newsletter, which will be about the release of River and Reese’s taboo prequel. Speaking of River and Reese…

Okay, so here’s where the outtake goes, but if you wanna read it, you’ll find it in my newsletter right here. And to make sure you don’t miss the future outtakes, you can subscribe here!

One last thing before I go. My web shop is live again. Until next time!

Breathless Release!

“Will you beat me without knowing why I want it?”

I’m used to rejection by Sadists at this point. No one wants to beat me or skip aftercare; they wanna talk and get all up in my business—where they don’t freaking belong. But I give it one more try when I spot River and Reese Tenley at a kink party. The only thing bigger than them is their reputation as hardcore Sadists. To the memories of grief and why I’m seeking punishment, I ask them to hurt me.

“Sure. It’s your funeral.”

MMM | The Game Series | BDSM | Book 3 | Standalone | Sadomasochism | Daddykink

Breathless goes live tomorrow, on September 15, but you can preorder right now! Just click HERE to pick up your copy.

Until next time!

-Cara

Adding Layers to Characters

Hi there, long time no see and all that. Yes, I just heard my editor complain about that very first sentence in my head. Like a character, she lives there permanently and pipes up every now and then.

Zip it, I tell her, now’s not the time.

So! I hope y’all are feeling all right in these weird times. I’m currently trying to make my deadline and finish writing Breathless, the next book in the Game Series, before my birthday on July 23rd. But today I woke up feeling generally off. Headache, stomachache, and some mild nausea. Not enough to throw my ass on the bed and declare myself dying in hopes of lots of sympathy from the man in the house, but enough to completely pull me away from my writing.

Well, sort of.

Breathless is going to be a somewhat angsty, hotter-than-hell, eventually sweet kink story about Shay Acton, a young man who’s lost most of his family, and twin Sadists River and Reese Tenley. It’s a standalone piece, but for those following the series, it’s a “Finally! We get the twins!” As they’ve already made appearances in the previous two books. 🙂

And you know what’s freaking impossible to write when you’re not feeling well?

Sizzling hot kink. Yeah. It’s not happening today.

However…

My passion has always been to write everyday heroes and heroines, with everyday struggles, realistic misfortunes and mishaps happening, and all those insignificant human isms. They go to the bathroom, they sneeze when their noses tickle, they get food poisoning, they have cramps, headaches, and mood swings.

They get sick sometimes.

Yeah! Guess who I just gave a fever? Shay will battle this off day with me; I will get back to writing, and he will just suffer with me. The words sure as heck flow easier when I can get into the scene properly and relate to what he’s feeling, and I think…I think the Tenley twins need to give him ice cream and cuddles.

To be frank, I want ice cream too.

Much love,

Cara

Linky link: The Game Series.

Daddy kink | Age difference | Realistic BDSM | S/M | …and much more.

Food + Sex + Best Friends in Love = Dirty Chef

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Alessia on Adam

He’s a feeling. His energy is a force that makes an impact whether you want it to or not. He’s charming, easygoing, and loved by everyone. Especially me. He’s been the love of my life since I was a fifteen-year-old summer camper and he was a burned-out chef volunteering to make sloppy joes in the dining hall.

Unfortunately, he has a type. Tall, thin, and gorgeous. And I’m…none of those things.

I’m the friend. The roommate. The one he runs a restaurant with.

Adam on Alessia

She’s my past, my present, and my future. She’s my muse. I cook with her tastes in mind. I cook for her. But, as my brother points out, she won’t be my future if I don’t come clean about the fact that I’ve been hung up on her for years.

Coming clean might not be a choice at this rate, though. If I see Alessia on another goddamn dating app, I’m gonna lose my shit. I physically can’t stay away from her any longer, even if I risk losing everything we’ve built together.

The Objective

The sexiest Valentine’s Day menu ever created. And maybe, just maybe, fingers aren’t the only thing getting licked after this meal.

Buon Appetito!

Excerpt

She’d meet someone soon. They’d get married and she would squeeze out a few runts, and I would never see her again. It would start out slow, of course. First, we’d stop living together because her new man would find that weird. Then, she’d miss a few shifts at work. Dates and whatnot. Eventually, she’d hire someone—maybe a hostess or bartender. She’d come to work one day with a rock on her finger, and she would burst with excitement as she announced she was pregnant.

I wanted to fucking hurl.

“Oh, look,” she gasped softly.

I raised a brow at the babies. The boy yawned.

“So cute,” Alessia whispered. “I know I’m being silly, but I’m just so happy for Isla and Jack.”

Yeah, everyone was pleased as punch, from grandparents and siblings to friends and even the freaking nurses.

Aforementioned family members also knew how to go home and catch some rest.

“I’m gonna check in with the new parents,” I said. “Then we’re outta here, all right?”

Alessia nodded, probably thrilled to get another few minutes of staring at the babies.

Yup, I was definitely losing her.

Fuck.

I found my brother in the next hall. Isla was asleep in the hospital bed, and Jack was in the uncomfortable chair next to her, checking his phone.

I knocked lightly on the doorframe, and he glanced up and smiled sleepily.

“Mom just texted and asked if you’d managed to drag Alessia out of here yet.” He kept his voice down and stood up, walking over so we could let Isla sleep. I stepped out into the hall and removed my ball cap. “You okay?”

“Sure.” I nodded with a dip of my chin. “I talked to Alex and Jamie. We’re doing a Grady Night this weekend at Mom and Dad’s. You know that means free babysitting.”

Jack chuckled quietly and scrubbed a hand over his face. Then he flicked a glance through the window to Isla’s room. “I’ll talk to Isla,” he murmured. “I’m not so naïve that I don’t believe we’ll be tired.”

“Fucking exhausted,” I agreed.

He slid his gaze back to me. “Why the rush, though?”

I shrugged and scratched my bicep. “We gotta celebrate, don’t we?”

He drew a deep breath and saw straight through me. He didn’t even bother narrowing his eyes, something he was great at when he sniffed out bullshit. Maybe he was too tired. Or maybe I was so goddamn pathetic in my quest to fill Alessia’s calendar with family shit that it was too easy, too obvious.

“Are you never going to talk to her?” Jack asked curiously, and I tensed up. “Be honest with me, Adam. You’re seriously just going to let her run off with someone she’ll be content with at best.”

“Don’t.” I clenched my jaw. I’d hidden my feelings for Alessia for longer than I cared to admit, and no one had so much as suspected anything until Isla barged into Jack’s life and assumed Alessia and I were together the very first time she met us. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I told him.

He hiked his brows. “Oh, I don’t?”

I shook my head. “No, you don’t, and I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about her—” I gestured to the room where Isla slept “—and the babies, but it ain’t the same. Alessia is in every part of my life. We live together, we run Coho together—she’s my best friend. She’s my past, my present, and my future. If I lose her, I have nothing.” An invisible noose tightened around my neck, and I hauled in a breath. The mere idea of not having Alessia in my life was fucking crippling. “I won’t risk it,” I stated. “I live and breathe that girl.”

Something softened in my brother’s gaze. “She might not be your future, though.”

I didn’t need a reminder.

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