Showing posts with label Lethal Obsession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lethal Obsession. Show all posts

Friday, August 9, 2013

Spotlight with Shandra Miller author of Lethal Obsession



Lethal Obsession

Angela Martin is chief detective for the Moose Creek, N.C., police department, when a possible murder call comes in. At the scene she finds the body of a woman, hanging from hands bound overhead, eyes blindfolded, mouth gagged. Red whip marks crisscross the woman’s buttocks, the back of her legs. She recognizes the scene, knows exactly what happened to the woman before she died, because Det. Angela Martin was bound and blindfolded, gagged and whipped exactly as this woman had been. By a man she met on line.
A killer.
A master whose power over her is so strong she’s willing to risk everything – her career, even her life – to be with him again.
LETHAL OBSESSION is a novel of desire and domination, suspicion and fear, and the mysterious way those emotions mingle into an inescapable pull, one that might cost Angela her life.
*****
An excerpt:

I am going to die.
Because I’m stupid.
That was the final lucid thought Angela was able to form before emotion replaced rational thinking. His hands – gentle yet deliberate in the way they had already worked the rest of her clothing from her body – unfastened first one strap that hung over her shoulders, then the other, and Angela felt her face flush as the chemise fell, leaving her nude.
She heard a whimper as the hot sting of leather kissed her buttocks, then the whimper grew to a muffled cry with the second and third strike, and Angela realized it was her own voice she was hearing, what little voice she could form through the gag.
Her body trembled at a fourth and fifth strike. Fear and adrenaline coursed through her body, and Angela moaned. Embarrassment competed with fear, embarrassment at being naked and vulnerable, and at the realization her body was responding to his actions, that she could no longer control herself, with each lash from the belt arousal grew; fear as the realization dawned on her, not rationally but in some deep, visceral way, that she was helpless and alone, at the mercy of a stranger who clearly had painful intentions for her.
Then it all went away, replaced by the hard sensation of ice, first against her right nipple, then her left. Angela cried out at the cold, her body jerking, but the sound was muffled, and she moved little, with her arms stretched overhead, wrists bound, snuggly held in place by…by what she wasn’t sure, with her vision nothing more than blackness behind a blindfold.
She turned her body away from the cold as much as she could, and Angela felt another sharp sting of leather across her buttocks.
“You will stand still.”
The voice, little more than a whisper, was firm and even. No anger, no frustration, just a simple command.
Again the ice, but Angela held her footing, though her body trembled in spite of her attempt at remaining perfectly still. The cold pressed against her, hard, and then she felt the ice slipping around the nipple, making larger and larger circles outward, spiraling across her breasts.
As suddenly as the ice had come, it was gone. In its place she felt his lips...kissing her right nipple, gently at first, ever so softly. A mix of sensations rolled through her body – the air against her left nipple, still wet from the ice, almost stinging cold, while his kisses brought warmth to her right nipple. Despite the embarrassment, the fear, Angela felt herself growing wetter than she could ever remember as his hands caressed her hips. She moaned, instinctively arched her hips forward and felt teeth clamp down on her nipple. Not hard enough to be a bite, but with enough force to hurt.
She whimpered and, again acting on instinct, tried pulling away, which served to elicit even more pain before he released her nipple.
“You are not very compliant,” he said. As before his voice was little more than a whisper, followed by the sound of leather slicing through the air and the sensation of it slapping hard across her butt, wrapping around her body, the tip of the belt kissing her, there, with pain.

*****
About Shandra Miller
Shandra is a mid-western gal who left home at 16 and never looked back. Eventually she made her way to Florida, worked for three years as a carnie and another three with a circus -- yes, a real, live, honest-to-god circus. Traveled all through the South and Mid-Atlantic, town to town, on the road eight months at a time.
Now she’s a small-town mountain girl, waiting tables on the Blue Ridge Parkway. She doesn’t own a cell phone or a TV, she takes long walks at night, lies in the grass in the day time and watches the clouds go by, and she writes erotica. Blazing hot erotica. And mystery stories dripping with lust, sex and suspense.
You can follow Shandra at shandramillerwriter.blogspot.com or at https://www.facebook.com/shandra.miller.52 and on Twitter @shandramillerwr
LETHAL OBSESSION is her debut novel. Her second novel, HELPLESS, Book 2 of the Lethal Obsession Trilogy, will be released Aug. 15. You can find LETHAL OBSESSION at Amazon: amzn.to/148DO67





Sunday, August 4, 2013

Character interview with Angela from Lethal Obsession


Angela Martin is a detective in the Moose Creek, N.C., police department, the first woman law enforcement officer in the small-town department and the only woman to obtain such a high position in any of the small, rural police departments in the foothills of North Carolina.
She's worked hard to reach that position, always felt she had to be a little bit better, work a little harder, than other officers because she had to prove herself. She's been totally devoted to her career, and it's paid off with promotions and commendations and, more importantly, universal respect among her peers.
She's also the main character in the novel Lethal Obsession. If you're interested, she's tall (5'10"), blondish, but plain and unassuming. As she says in the novel, she "carries a little extra weight." During some rather heated Internet messaging exchanges she goes by the name "Not Barbie."
She's graciously consented to spending a little time with us.
*****
Detective Martin, we're delighted to have you today. I hope you don't mind, but we're going to dispense with the niceties and jump right in.

Question: There's a scene in Lethal Obsession, where you are meeting a man in a hotel room and he ties you up. You don't know him, you've never done this before, what was it like when he put those ropes on you, when you felt them tighten for the first time?
Angela: Scary. And thrilling. As you said, I had never done anything like that before. Ever. Never even thought of it until we started chatting a bit online. I felt so vulnerable to start with, exposing myself like that – in some ways, just being nude in front of a stranger is the scariest part. I'm not exactly a model, and I was afraid he'd reject me. But then, when I felt that rope tightening around my wrists, and he pulled it hard and tied it off, then stretched my arms overhead and tied them to something, I couldn't see because I was blindfolded – I was thinking "my god, what have I done." I was trembling.

Question: So you really didn't know the guy?
Angela: No. That's dumb, I know. As a cop, of all people, I should know better. But…there are circumstances in my life, things going on that drove me to make some unwise choices, I suppose. In this case, I wanted to know what this would be like, to be bound and helpless. It's hard to be more vulnerable than you are in that situation with a stranger.

Question: What did he do?
Angela: (laughs). I'm sorry, I'm not going to tell, other than to say he drove me absolutely out of my head. By the time we were finished, I had done things I never dreamed of. It was scary the whole time, scary and arousing and…oh my, is it hot in here?

Question: (laughs) It is suddenly feeling a little warm. Didn’t your friend use a little ice on you to keep you cool?
Angela: Oh my god, I can’t believe you brought that up. Yes, he was very creative.

Question: I'm sorry to turn this to a sour note, but things took a tragic turn, didn’t they?
Angela:Yes. For many people.

Question: A young woman was killed, right? And when you found her, she was bound in the same way your stranger had bound you. As I understand it, the biggest difference was, where he had had done things to you, inflicted some light arousing pain, the killer had done the same to her, only to a level that would rise to torture.
Angela:As best we could determine, that is the case.

Question: What did you do when you discovered that?
Angela: (Sighs, followed by a long silence). I didn't handle that well. I struggled, I'm still struggling with what to do, should I tell the chief? I mean, sure, I should tell him, but … how do I explain that? I can't imagine sitting in his office, explaining what I was doing. I…I just don't think I can do that.

Question: Couldn't that compromise the investigation?
Angela: Yes. I…I'm still working through that. I'm hoping I can figure out if my…if the man I was with was, in fact involved in the murder. If he's not, I can keep this quiet.

Question: How are you going to do that? You don’t even know his real name, right?
Angela: That's right. I'm setting up another meeting with him.

Question:A public meeting?
Angela: No. Another rendezvous. I'm…he's going to…I'm going to let him do it to me again.

Question: Is that safe?
Angela: Probably not. But it's the only thing I have now. He'll have his way, but hopefully I can also learn about him, determine if he's involved.

*****

To find out what happens to Detective Martin, how her mystery stranger turns her life upside down, and how it all ends for the two of them, download a copy of Lethal Obsession by Shandra Miller, available at:

For more information about Shandra Miller and her work, check out her blog at http://shandramillerwriter.blogspot.com/

*****

Here's a quick peak at that first meeting between Detective Martin and her stranger:

I am going to die.
Because I’m stupid.
That was the final lucid thought Angela was able to form before emotion replaced rational thinking. His hands – gentle yet deliberate in the way they had already worked the rest of her clothing from her body – unfastened first one strap that hung over her shoulders, then the other, and Angela felt her face flush as the chemise fell, leaving her nude.
She heard a whimper as the hot sting of leather kissed her buttocks, then the whimper grew to a muffled cry with the second and third strike, and Angela realized it was her own voice she was hearing, what little voice she could form through the gag.
Her body trembled at a fourth and fifth strike. Fear and adrenaline coursed through her body, and Angela moaned. Embarrassment competed with fear, embarrassment at being naked and vulnerable, and at the realization her body was responding to his actions, that she could no longer control herself, with each lash from the belt arousal grew; fear as the realization dawned on her, not rationally but in some deep, visceral way, that she was helpless and alone, at the mercy of a stranger who clearly had painful intentions for her.
Then it all went away, replaced by the hard sensation of ice, first against her right nipple, then her left. Angela cried out at the cold, her body jerking, but the sound was muffled, and she moved little, with her arms stretched overhead, wrists bound, snuggly held in place by…by what she wasn’t sure, with her vision nothing more than blackness behind a blindfold.
She turned her body away from the cold as much as she could, and Angela felt another sharp sting of leather across her buttocks.
“You will stand still.”
The voice, little more than a whisper, was firm and even. No anger, no frustration, just a simple command.
Again the ice, but Angela held her footing, though her body trembled in spite of her attempt at remaining perfectly still. The cold pressed against her, hard, and then she felt the ice slipping around the nipple, making larger and larger circles outward, spiraling across her breasts.
As suddenly as the ice had come, it was gone. In its place she felt his lips...kissing her right nipple, gently at first, ever so softly. A mix of sensations rolled through her body – the air against her left nipple, still wet from the ice, almost stinging cold, while his kisses brought warmth to her right nipple. Despite the embarrassment, the fear, Angela felt herself growing wetter than she could ever remember as his hands caressed her hips. She moaned, instinctively arched her hips forward and felt teeth clamp down on her nipple. Not hard enough to be a bite, but with enough force to hurt.
She whimpered and, again acting on instinct, tried pulling away, which served to elicit even more pain before he released her nipple.
“You are not very compliant,” he said. As before his voice was little more than a whisper, followed by the sound of leather slicing through the air and the sensation of it slapping hard across her butt, wrapping around her body, the tip of the belt kissing her, there, with pain.




Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Shandra Miller Book Tour ~LETHAL OBSESSION~



Blurb:

Angela Martin is chief detective for the Moose Creek, N.C., police department, when a possible murder call comes in. At the scene she finds the body of a woman, hanging from hands bound overhead, eyes blindfolded, mouth gagged. Red whip marks crisscross the woman’s buttocks, the back of her legs. She recognizes the scene, knows exactly what happened to the woman before she died, because Det. Angela Martin was bound and blindfolded, gagged and whipped exactly as this woman had been. By a man she met on line.

A killer.

A master whose power over her is so strong she’s willing to risk everything – her career, even her life – to be with him again.

LETHAL OBSESSION is a novel of desire and domination, suspicion and fear, and the mysterious way those emotions mingle into an inescapable pull, one that might cost Angela her life. 



Excerpt:
“Are you ready?”
His voice was still soft, emotionless.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Angela looked around the hotel room. It was a basic, cheap room – particle board dresser, large TV on top, a small desk next to it. In the space behind the door was an area designated as the closet. Her clothes hung there. She had locked her gun and ID inside the car, hidden away. On the nightstand sat her work phone – the one that would signal their time together must end if it buzzed.
She glanced back to the mirror over the dresser. Staring back was a person she recognized – physically, that is. It also might just have well been a stranger. She wore a red chemise. The front plunged so low that her breasts nearly spilled out. It was so short barely any of her legs were covered. Underneath she wore nothing.
“Door unlocked?”
“Yes.”
“Kneel.”
Angela went to her knees.
“Blindfold yourself.”
Angela placed the phone on the floor, next to her, covered her eyes with the scarf, tied it securely behind her head. She felt for the phone, put it back to her ear.
“Done.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, done, Mr. Tanner.”
“Now the handcuffs.”
“Mr. Tanner, I cannot…will not be able to pick up the phone to let you know I’ve done that.”
“Just do it. I’ll be there when I decide you’ve had enough time.”
Angela put the phone down, felt for the handcuffs – she had purchased separate ones for use with Mr. Tanner, not wanting to risk even the slightest chance using department-issued ones could lead back to what she was doing. She snapped the cuffs around her left wrist, put her hands behind her back, paused for a few seconds, and then snapped the other cuff around her right wrist.
Oh god.
That was the only thought that formed, mingling with fear and a burning, almost primal sense of anticipation.
Angela wondered what she would look like to Tanner. She was kneeling, but not up on her knees. Instead, her legs were folded under her, her butt resting on her heels. She wasn’t sure if that’s how he meant for her to be, or if she should rise up on her knees, as she did in church as a little girl.
She waited, tiny trembles shaking her body every so often. How long? It seemed as if she had been there seven, eight, maybe even ten minutes, but Angela knew the time was probably much less. Waiting, in the dark, helpless, with a probable killer coming to have his way with her, time seemed to stretch and slow down.
I shouldn’t be here.
The thought stabbed through the haze of desire and mystery and fear, like the sudden emergence of a traffic light in a thick fog.
I need to get out.
Just as her body was about to respond to the thought, to rise up from her kneeling position, she felt lips press against her left thigh; fingers play lightly along her right one.
Oh my god.
She had heard nothing – Tanner, apparently, excelled at stealth as well as he did at understanding how to control her body, her feelings and emotions.
“Please?”
Please what? Please go on? Please take me? Please release me?
“Mr. Tann—”
Fingers pressed against her lips. Not hard, but firmly, enough to silence her.
As quickly as they had pressed against her mouth they were gone, then she felt them again…both of his hands, on her thighs, playing up and down her legs, massaging, caressing, his lips like feather touches across her chest, kissing, tongue licking, playing along her mostly exposed breasts…






About Shandra Miller

Shandra is a mid-western gal who left home at 16 and never looked back. Eventually she made her way to Florida, worked for three years as a carnie and another three with a circus -- yes, a real, live, honest-to-god circus. Traveled all through the South and Mid-Atlantic, town to town, on the road eight months at a time.
Now she’s a small-town office girl, filing papers, making coffee, and dreaming of being free. She doesn’t own a cell phone or a TV, she takes long walks at night, lies in the grass in the day time and watches the clouds go by, and she writes erotica and mystery. Blazing hot erotica, and mystery tales dripping with lust, sex and suspense.
LETHAL OBSESSION is her debut novel. Her short stories PRIVATE DINING and ROOM SERVICE, both part of the TIDES INN EROTIC TALES series; and JENNIFER LOST and JENNIFER BOUND (part of the Ville D'Esclavage TALES) are all available on Amazon.com.

You can follow Shandra at shandramillerwriter.blogspot.com and at https://www.facebook.com/shandra.miller.52  You can connect with her on Twitter at @shandramillerwr