1-How long have you been writing?
Seems like forever, but to the point of being published – five years I think.
2- What is your favorite genre to write?
Erotic romance is the only genre I've tried. There are so many sub genres that I can play with – erotic contemporary, erotic paranormal, erotic fantasy etc
3-What are you working on now?
An erotic medieval fantasy.
4-When you begin a story do you start with character or plot?
Sometimes I start with simply a moment in a story. An idea hits me for a scene and then I build on that. Once I had the final line in a book and had to work a story toward it. But mostly I think I start by figuring out how to fit my character into the plot and plot around the character. Confusing – yea, well that's me.
5-Tell us about your latest/upcoming release. What inspired it?
Capri's Fate was an idea. I didn't actually know I was ready to write another book. I sat down, turned on laptop and spit out chapters 1, 2 and 3. Then I had to figure out where to go with the rest of the story.
What's a woman to do when a voice follows her home and makes mad, passionate love to her?
Corporate business woman, Capricious Gray, is dragged to a sex toy convention by her best friend. Once a shocking, mysterious disembodied voice helps her with her purchases, it follows her home. Passion ensues, leaving Capri torn between lust for her fantasy lover and the desperate need for reality in her life.
Thall, son of one of the Fates, harbors the irrepressible need to be with the woman he's desired from afar for years. In order to make her his, once and for all, he must help Capri get past her fears, including the fear of what he represents - a fantasy.
Can fantasy become a reality for these two lovers?
My bustier had wrapped itself around me, forcing my nipples to burst from the peek-a-boo holes. The bottle of warming lubricant landed beside me, top popped off. And amazed that I wasn't the least bit shocked, alarmed or confused, I watched as my glass dildo floated above me.
"Play with your nipples. Show me what you do to make them firm."
"Excuse me?" My eyebrows rose up to my hairline. "You want me to play with myself? In front of you?"
One simple, yet mortifying, word.
"I'm not a porn star."
"Just touch yourself. I will not judge you."
I rippled my fingers across my nipple, which traitorously responded. So did my lower parts. They tingled. The bustier was much tighter than I would have hooked it. My breasts were forced into a way-out-there position. My body liked the restraint. I tickled myself again. My nipple grew firm. Playing with both, I squeezed and pulled until they stood erect and pinky-proud.
"They're beautiful. Continue," the voice urged.
To the flesh on my breast, my fingers were like ice cubes. My areolas contracted. My nipples stiffened. My next touch changed to sandpaper—rough and scratchy. Tingles shivered through my body. Hot, cold, rough, soft—each new sensation was a surprise.
Sweat trickled down my neck. Pressure built deep inside. My hand turned palm up, and the vibrating nipple clamp fell into it.
It took me a moment to figure out what to do. No, Thall didn't send the instructions along, and I hadn't had a chance to read them yet. My bad.
Unclasping it, I encased my nipple then hit the tiny switch. A squeal escaped me as a tiny electric pulse shot through my aroused dusky tip. The other clamp floated in front of me. I secured it onto my left nipple and held my breath.
A surge of lust rushed through my body then centered in my crotch.
The electric pulses were titillating—pun intended—and random, and I found myself waiting for the next. They didn't fire together. Nor did they go off in even patterns. I lay back wallowing in the random sensations they delighted in me. I wanted this to last for hours. A small thought nudge me. How long do tiny cell batteries last?
The arousal gel poured itself over my upper thighs as strong fingertips raked the insides, forcing my legs apart.
Arousing was so the wrong term for the lubricant. Fire would be a more apt description. I've been cooler after a tough hour of hot yoga class.
Sweat rolled in streams from me, yet all I did was rest on silk pillows having my nipples erotically zapped. I pulled my knees up and let them fall. I was fully exposed, and horny as hell. I wanted to be fucked. Needed to be fucked.
The bottle of warming gel flipped pouring liquid heat down my crotch. My glass penis hung, head down, aimed between my legs.
"Do you want it?"
"Do you want it inside you—mercilessly driving you to a screaming orgasm?”
Do the Fates understand the term – duh!
Buy Link, Bio
Buy Links – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/309990
Daryl Devore lives in an in old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, two cats, a large salt water aquarium full of fish and some ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road, or snow shoe across the back acres and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flew high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.
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