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Pre-order Dom Diaries Now + Excerpt

domdiaries

RELEASING MAY 3RD

Blurb

The Sub Rosa Trilogy uncovered the dark secrets beneath the lies. But what about the story beyond the mystery?

In this companion novel, TV presenter turned magazine editor Carl Sorensen has his say in these diaries chronicling his journey from a lost soul betrayed by all the women he loves – to a true, dedicated dom determined to lead a better life.

His uncensored confessions reveal all the dirty secrets that eventually put him on the same path as the woman who would become his wife.

Ultimately, what makes a dom and more importantly, WHO makes a dom?

Be prepared to have your belief system shaken up all over again.

Reading Order:

UNBIND (Book 1) : http://mybook.to/unbind

UNFURL (Book 2) : http://mybook.to/unfurl

UNLEASH (Book 3) : http://mybook.to/unleash

DOM DIARIES (a companion) : http://mybook.to/domdiaries

AUTHOR NOTE

I have a word or two of warning:

This book contains lots of major spoilers for the Sub Rosa series. I highly recommend reading the trilogy first otherwise you will not be as emotionally invested as you pick up this book.

Rather than adding to the series, this complements if nothing else, but does contain a couple of little added twists.

Rather than rehash the trilogy, Carl’s diaries highlight the pivotal points of his life, when he’s either desperately in agony or ecstatically happy.

Once again:

You have been warned. Read the trilogy first.

Happy reading.

Sarah x

 

EXCERPT

AUGUST 1, 2008

11.01 p.m. HOME. Since Marie started taking me to her friend’s dungeon, everything has changed. I’ve had my eyes opened. I’ve… been educated. Let me go back to the first night, and then I’ll tell you (dear diary) what has happened since…

It was a Saturday night, the day after July 4th. Hot. Sticky. She told me to wear normal clothes because costumes would be provided at the door.

We walked through an old, stately apartment building in Gramercy and I was led through a home furnished in paisley and dominated by polished glass, with all the walls in walnut and beige. Soon enough we found ourselves waiting before an invisible entrance, wallpaper hiding the joins of a hidden door.

We walked through into an entirely different world of dark wood and leather, of latex and naked flesh. High human scents mixed with hard materials – it was a heady combination. The smell of fresh pussy already had me filling my pants.

We were led to a cloakroom of sorts and passed our costumes, so to speak. Marie was given a black cloak which tied at the front to conceal her entire body. I was given a pair of black, silk pants.

In a small changing room together, I watched as she stripped to her bare skin and pulled on just the cloak. I did the same, wearing only the silk pants.

‘So far so good?’ she asked me.

I merely raised my brow and smiled.

‘Good,’ she replied, ‘now remember what I said, this is a pain-free dungeon. Just playing. None of the equipment here is for pain. It’s all kid’s plasticky stuff. We make this up as we go along.’

I nodded and we placed our normal clothes in a wicker locker outside the door.

We were led down a wooden staircase into what I presumed was a basement. Each step I took made the steps creak beneath my feet. I was aware this was shabby chic; shabby full stop.

Down in the thick of it, I was surprised to see men and women chatting idly, sat around on wooden benches with a drink in their hand. There were a couple of male waiters handing out drinks, dressed in leather chaps with just a strip of a thong protecting their modesty.

A woman dressed in one of the black cloaks called for everyone’s attention and said, ‘Usual rules apply. No real names. No facts. No intercourse. No pain. No other rules. Enjoy.’

A door was opened into another room and I realized the one we were in was but an antechamber.

Marie tipped her champagne glass against mine and clinked. ‘Don’t you drink, Carl?’

‘I don’t actually.’ It was funny. I wouldn’t have admitted that, had I not known that what went on in the dungeon, no doubt stayed in the dungeon.

‘More for me,’ she grinned, taking my glass for herself.

We walked towards the doorway where the real festivities took place and for a brief moment, I felt like all these doorways were passageways into either prison or freedom. I was hoping for the latter.

Before we went into the real dungeon, one of the waiters marked my shoulder with an ultraviolet pen so I bore a clear, “L” on my skin.

‘Learner,’ whispered Marie, ‘so that people know. Stick with me.’

We walked indoors, finally, to be greeted by what seemed to be instruments of torture but were absolutely toys. Many more women than men were in charge and as we passed through and observed, I heard a few of the men groan as their partners humiliated and stroked their bodies with playful torture instruments such as ticklers, fake riding crops and mostly, their own boots.

‘What would your dom do to you?’ I whispered in Marie’s ear.

She looked up into my eyes from her smaller stature and giggled. ‘I’ll show you.’

She led me to an oversized wooden chair, the like you see people electrocuted in. She asked me to fasten the wrist and ankle holds, which I did.

‘My safe word is deluxe,’ she says, ‘which basically means I’m premium and ready to finish.’

I grinned. ‘Do I need one?’

‘No, not unless you would like to be dominated.’

‘Never.’

‘Okay, then.’

carl

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