Guest Post: A Lesson in Submission by Katie Salidas

Ms. Katie Salidas

For me, writing is a powerful thing. I am the creator of a world and people that until that point had never existed. I rule over this world with a mighty pen and control the fate of the creations within the pages. But, along with great power comes great responsibility. It’s not enough to play god. I have to develop a story that is not only worthy of being read, but also able to be read (published). That often feels like a daunting task. Roadblocks of writer’s block and time constraints often have me feeling frantic that a story will never see itself to completion.

Even with the stress involved, the power of being “the creator” is nice little perk. I often find myself falling in love with the world I’ve created and using it as my escape from the everyday stresses in real life.

That escape element makes writing an intensely personal endeavor. The world I create is my world. It belongs to no one else. I spend a lot of time and energy in developing that vision as I work my world into a readable and enjoyable story. In that world, I grow my characters from seeds of inspiration, and watch them develop into actual entities. Their thoughts and feelings, their lives, their interactions -- they all become real within the confines of that world.

Because of this intensely personal nature, Writing is not a craft that often lends itself to collaboration. Collaboration means giving up control, it means letting someone into my world and trusting that they will not abuse their power while in it.

In that respect, choosing to work with a partner is a lesson in Submission.

It’s not always an easy lesson. This world I’ve created is personal. It’s an extension of myself. Letting someone in is a deeply intimate act.  Once inside, they will have the ability to manage and manipulate my characters. They can do so much damage.

Just as the Dom/Sub relationship relies on trust and faith, so too does the co-authoring partnership. You have to trust that the partner you are working with has a vision and goals that match your own. That both of you, no matter how you might differ on opinions, are working toward the best story possible.

It’s never easy. If it was, everyone would be doing it.

I’ve never been one to relinquish control of anything. I’m more than OCD in my writing. I don’t like having to listen to others opinions. I don’t like people telling me what I should and shouldn’t do with my characters.

Much like our character, Natasha, I like to control it all. And much like Natasha, I find myself feeling heartburn and stressed out over stories that I can’t seem to see to fruition.

But, as I have learned, there are some benefits to letting go of some control.

Writer’s block, being one of the biggest road blocks becomes much smaller an obstacle when there are two writers battling against it. When stalled on a story and I simply cannot find the solution, I’ve learned that if I let go of that control, that need to make this story 100% mine, and to trust in my writing partner, the answers become clear. Sometimes he might have the answer and next step in the vision, and sometimes, just through chatting about the story, the solution presents itself.

Does it always work smoothly, no, but having a partner I can trust, and letting go and trusting him has proven itself to be very beneficial. And at this point, we’ve put out three and we’re working on number four with many more stories to come.

Submission Therapy releases today!!

Billionaire CEO of Blakely Incorporated, Natasha runs her empire with an eagle eye for every detail. She’s an obsessive, compulsive, micromanaging hard-ass, consumed by the need to control every aspect of her life and her business.

But underneath that seemingly strong façade, Natasha is a swirling mess of anger, anxiety and sexual addiction. Only her therapist, Dr. Benson, knows how close she is to burning out...or exploding. He insists on a radical form of treatment – Submission Therapy – knowing that it’s her only hope.

Skeptical but intrigued, Natasha agrees to attend the first session. What she finds there is an erotically-charged environment that will forgive none of her habitual bad behavior. And a steely-eyed man who seems to read her every desire - even the ones she won’t admit to herself.

Will Natasha learn what it means to submit? Or will she allow her brittle pride to rob her of what she truly needs?

***

Hello Readers! Sinner here!

Did Katie's post whet your appetite?  If so, here are some buy links for this wonderful story!

Amazon

Amazon UK

All Romance Ebooks

Smashwords

Excessica

And here are the many ways in which you can reach Katie!

Katie's Website

Katie on Facebook

Katie on LinkedIn (You must sign in to connect with Katie)

http://twitter.com/QuixoticKatie

Until next time my friends, this is Sinner...signing off....



Spotlight on Willsin Rowe and Katie Salidas

Today we shine the spotlight on Willsin Rowe and Katie Salidas, co-authors of Submission Therapy which releases tomorrow!!

Ms. Katie Salidas

It is a well known fact that I love Katie and that I read every word she writes, so it's not unusual that I would also read this new release Submission Therapy.

Submission Therapy is the story about Natasha, CEO of Blakely Incorporated, hard assed, compulsive control freak who is a hot mess underneath it all. Her therapist, Derek Benson, insists she participate in a non-traditional form of treatment after little success with conventional therapy. She is to give up all control and submit to the desires of "Master Sweet."

The story is a quick but attention grabbing read that serves as a great introduction into the world of Dominance/Submission and pain turning into pleasure. You get a good sense early on as to who Natasha vs her therapist, Dr. Benson shown by her impatience and irreverence toward him,.

When Master Sweet's identity was revealed I was surprised, but it made sense perfect sense and I look forward to more from this dynamic duo! 

To whet your appetites, here is an excerpt from Submission Therapy:

Submission Therapy

EXCERPT:

© November 2012 by Willsin Rowe and Katie Salidas

“If your spirit is the equal of your body...” He ran his fingers across my shoulders and down the gully of my spine. “...then it will be a rare pleasure breaking you in.”

Despite my initial apprehension, his words and his touch sent a thrill through me.

He moved from behind me and my back suddenly felt cold. I watched his muscular form as he prowled to the chair, and admired his grace as he mounted it.

“Bind her. Bring her to me.”

Chloe appeared beside me with a length of smooth rope in her hands. My instincts cried out to run, to fight, but I bit down on them. I could see where this was heading and…and I wasn’t sure I hated it.

With practiced efficiency, Chloe had my wrists secured in under a minute. She led me over to Master Sweet and handed him the loose end of rope.

“Slave, lay across my lap.”

I couldn’t help it. I hesitated. This was so new to me. He curled the rope around his wrist and pulled steadily, with a strength I couldn’t resist. With Chloe’s help he had me prone across his lap, my bare ass angled out and vulnerable. My heartbeat sped with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Even though there was something so degrading about being put over someone’s lap, there was a part of me that found it...invigorating. I wasn’t about to let him know I felt that way, though. I held my tongue and watched blankly as Chloe worked, binding me in place.

She took the rope and fed it through the eyelet at the base of the chair, leading it underneath and through a matching eyelet on the other side. She walked around and crouched behind me. From my angle I could only see her hands taking the rope, but I could sense her body heat on the backs of my thighs, feel her breath tickling across my ass…and everywhere else. I wondered if she was there to do more than just tie knots.

The rope’s firm grip around my right knee took me out of that reverie. I watched as Chloe fed the rope back through the loop and then around my left knee. I understood the chair’s construction much better now. Looped around it, with Master Sweet’s strong legs as a cushion, I had nowhere to go. Intriguingly, there was still enough slack in the rope that I could spread my knees apart.

“Look in the mirror.”

I raised my head and stared. I barely recognized myself. In the low light, my black hair almost blended with the room. I could see enough to know it was a mess, though.

He slipped his hand onto my ass and rested it there, soft, unmoving. The deceptively light touch sent chills rippling across my body.

“You’ve earned a spanking for your disobedience. You will watch as your punishment is delivered, and you will count the strokes.”

My breath hitched in my chest. Spanking. I hadn’t had one of those since I was a little girl. So demeaning, and yet the thought of it sent heat rushing between my thighs. There was a part of me that longed for it. In a world where I constantly had to think at least six to twelve months ahead, a consequence that was both immediate and tangible somehow felt like a luxury.

He raised his hand, cocked it like a gun. I followed the movement instinctively, admiring the pure power of it, knowing full well that its force was about to come crashing down on me.

“No. Look into your own eyes.”

I did as instructed. My mouth hung open as I tried to catch my breath, which had begun racing. I clenched my muscles and squeezed my thighs together, waiting for what came next.

The blow, when it landed, cracked like a pistol shot. For the slightest instant all I felt was the jolt through my body. My vision blurred with the impact. Then the sting bloomed on my ass and began to tingle. I watched my own mouth stretch, listened as my breath hissed in. I would not cry out.

“Count it!” he demanded.

And here are bios for our authors:

Katie Salidas

Katie Salidas is a Super Woman! Endowed with special powers and abilities, beyond those of mortal women, She can get the munchkins off to gymnastics, cheerleading, Girl Scouts, and swim lessons.  She can put hot food on the table for dinner while assisting with homework, baths, and bedtime… And, She still finds the time to keep the hubby happy (nudge nudge wink wink). She can do all of this and still have time to write.

And if you can believe all of those lies, there is some beautiful swamp land in Florida for sale…

Katie Salidas resides in Las Vegas, Nevada. Mother, wife, and author, she does try to do it all, often causing sleep deprivation and many nights passed out at the computer. Writing books is her passion, and she hopes that her passion will bring you hours of entertainment.

Contact info for Katie:

Katie's Website

Katie on Facebook

Katie on LinkedIn (You must sign in to see Katie's profile)

Katie on Twitter

Willsin Rowe

Willsin Rowe falls in love with a scent, a playful expression or an act of casual intimacy more easily than with physical beauty.  When confronted by any combination of those elements he is a lost cause.  He has done many things over and over, done even more things only once, and half-done more things than he cares to admit.  He loves to sing and doesn't let his voice get in the way. He is intelligent but not sensible.  He is passionate but fearful. He is not scruffy enough or stylish enough to be cool.

Willsin is also the author of Hunger, The Three Day Hump and Lightning.

Join us tomorrow for a special guest post by Katie Salidas!

~~ML

Let's Never Forget 9/11/01

Today is the eleventh anniversary of the attacks on US soil by cowards who used three planes to kill thousands of innocent people. Every year I write about how clear and beautiful a day it was that day; just as it is today. Every year, I write about how it is a day I will never forget and how I can remember every detail of that day.

I remember the fear I felt that we were being attacked. I remember the desperation I felt not being able to get to where my pregnant daughter was fast enough. I remember the relief I felt when I finally found her in an irish pub a few blocks from her office with her co-workers who had gathered there after their building was evacuated. It was only because I had spotted one of her colleagues that I even went into the pub. I knew he had to know where she was as I approached him, I looked over his shoulder and there she was. She was sitting on a stool with shock on her face and tears in her eyes as she watched the remaining tower crumble on a television screen.

I lost friends that day, one who's mother I worked closely with.

Today, I listened to the roll call as I do every year and as I do every year when that friend, Laura Gilly's name was called, I turned it off. I often think of her but today, I have been thinking of her all day long. I remembered how much fun we had during my first trip to Las Vegas with her mother.

This year, there were no politicians giving speeches. It truly was about those we lost on this date eleven years ago and the heroes that came after. It was a day for remembering and sharing stories of the people we lost, the valiant manner in which first responders worked to pull as many remains as they could from the ashes and who then later helped clear up the debris.

Let's not forget what happened that day; not just the horror but also how we all embraced one another during a time of need with love and compassion.

~~ML

Pink Diamond Interview for August

Sinner has posted her Pink Diamond Interview for August!

Of all the people she could have interviewed, she chose yours truly! That crazy girl!!

Check it out here!

Cada Cabeza Es Un Mundo (Everyone Lives in Their Own World)

I am so excited to share that my cover for Divergent Lives has been completed!! To celebrate, I've created a new blog by the same name. Visit here often and post comments!

Andi Reis and Renee Groskreutz of Ralph's Design and Deli are the geniuses behind this beautiful piece of artwork. Andi in particular, has been my sounding board. After a few email exchanges,  and I believe just one phone conversation, she was instantly able to translate my vision for this book's cover into what you see before you. Two minor tweaks was all it took to get to this! What do you say about that!

Everyone knows that my Dad was my hero. I am well aware that when a loved one dies, the people closest to that person; the ones who admired that person, tend to sanctify the deceased. So what? To me he was a saint; a saint who sinned, but one who also made amends the best way he knew how.

This is the way I see it and I call it the way I see it.

All in my family knew I was of the sensitive sort. My father was the first to tease me about that, but he never made me feel "less than" because of my sensitivity. The other thing my father recognized in me was that I inherently understood metaphors. He would often use idioms in conversation but when he used them in conversations with me, they were very often sprinkled with these very insightful and colorful metaphors.

My favorite was: "Cada cabeza es un mundo" which loosely translated means "Everyone lives in their own world." This was something that always resonated with me. As one with a very vivid imagination, even as a child, I lived in my own world; sometimes even in various worlds -- all of my own creation -- and sometimes at the same time. Kinda schizophrenic, I know. But, now I get to share them with all of you, warts and all!

As I continue on this path, there are a multitude of characters in future projects that you will be meeting. Most of these characters come from different aspects I've taken from personalities of people I have met in my life. Therefore, some are heroic, some not so much; some are smart, some not so much and some are sane, some -- needless to say -- not so much! However, they are all very interesting to me. I hope you agree.

Hang in there folks! This is going to be fun!!

~~ML

What Writing Means to Me

Friday morning, June 29th, I awoke to Sinner's virtual poke in my ribs:

"Woman!! Wake up! It's Pink Diamond Interview day! You don't plan on sleeping the whole day away, do you? Plus, you have to go to work today! C'mon!!!"

I was extremely tired. It had been an unusually stressful week. I tried, in earnest, to remain positive amid obstacles in the face of a life changing event. But I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and dragged myself to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. I wished I could have my caffeine intravenously.

When I finally sat at my computer to post Sinner's Pink Diamond Interview of Joseph V. Sultana (http://goo.gl/EhE93), I realized how much I loved writing as an Indie Author in particular and writing overall. I love all that this new career path encompasses. It's pretty awesome!

You see, I began working as a Candy Striper when I was 14 years old. Granted, until I was about 20 years old, all of my work experience consisted of part-time jobs in various fields. However, except for one year after my daughter was born, I have been lucky enough to work consistently, full time, as a secretary - for the better part of 35 years - in industries that run the gamut from advertising to hospitality and ending in the legal field. But I don't see those years as time spent building a "career."

I had kids and bills to pay, so I followed the money; or as today's youth would say: "I chased the cheddar." Quite frankly, I never really, truly enjoyed what I did. I mean, some of the people I've worked for have been really nice and my current boss stands above them all; but, some have not been so nice.

At this point in my life, I am just plain tired. I had been living my life by rote; just making sure to meet my responsibilities. I thought I would rest when I retired. Now, being so close to "retirement," I don't want to waste any time resting! I'll rest when I die!

Recently, I became a client of Ralph's Design and Deli. While discussing services with Andi Reis in an email exchange, I stated that I only really just wanted to write. I admitted that I hadn't really spent a lot of time thinking about marketing and promoting and all that stuff! Yes, that is true, but as a "Type A" personality, I need to know what's going on. I need to be able to express what I want and get it done. And that is exactly what I get from Andi so that I CAN write. Absolutely LOVE that girl!!

So, what does writing mean to me?

First, I'll tell you what it is not. Writing is NOT work for me.

It is a way for me to escape from daily stressors. Writing calms my nerves; it quiets the voices in my head and though this may sound crazy, it regulates my ADD. When I'm thinking about a current WIP or potential projects, though the thoughts are darting about in my head like shooting stars, there is no turmoil.

I'm at peace. I don't think I've ever been happier in my life than I have been since I began writing.

~~ML

Happy Father's Day - 6/17/12

I woke up this morning to a text from my daughter wishing me a Happy Father's Day. I, in effect, left her father before she was born, though the legalities would suggest otherwise as my divorce was not official for some months afterward.

Looking back on her childhood, I can honestly say that I wish I had done a better job at raising her. I wish I had been able to provide for her the kind of home life that I was lucky to have. I'm not saying our lives were unstable during those years -- we had a roof over our heads, clothing on our backs and food in our tummy but I sincerely believe that she missed out and I take full responsibility for that.

Those years were hard, but we had a lot of laughs and we did a lot of crying. We also grew up together. Like every parent and child, we have faced some challenges and continue to do so, but I am very proud of the woman she has become. Plus, she gifted me with my little man!

I often mention my Dad. The pain of his loss still lingers. Someone once put it very simply to me. He said:

"This kind of pain is like arthritis. Sometimes you have good days; and sometimes you have bad days. You've just got to keep going. He wouldn't have it any other way."

He was right.

I think of my Dad every single day. It is now 2,467 days since he's been gone.

He was my daughter's de facto father. I know she too feels his loss. He used to spoil her. The memory that is most vivid in my mind right now is the one of the day he spent shopping with her. One Easter holiday, he took her shopping for an outfit.

He had previously volunteered to drive her around to do that. She must have been about 10 or 11 years old; maybe a little younger. She already had an image in her mind for the outfit she wanted to wear. But, she still had to stop at every single store along their route to see what the pickin's were; only to end up at the first store they had visited. After all of that, my Dad stood beside her as she paid for the first outfit she had laid eyes on in the first store they had stopped in.

My daughter and I often recall that story. We always crack up laughing and I always end up with tears in the corners of my eyes.

Yea. He was Superman alright! I would have been pissed off if she had done that to me and he just supported her in her quest for the perfect outfit. Not a single complaint came out of his mouth to her.

When he later recounted his shopping jaunt to me, his frustration escalated as he told the story. In the end, he just laughed it off, saying:

"Typical woman!"

Since my father's death, I've often thought about how he would feel about my newfound passion for writing. I can only hope he would be proud. While I sit here and type out this post, my heart beats a little faster. I struggle with the sting building up in my nose and the tears that burn in the corner of my eyes now threatening to break through the dam.

All I want is to smell his essence, I want to put on some bright red lipstick. I want to kiss his bald spot. I desperately want to hear his voice again, even if it's just to hear him tell me to "stop doing that shit!" ... those are the words he would use. And, I want to watch him as he shakes his head to and fro in either utter annoyance or total disbelief that I would be so silly.

Finally, I want to make him laugh out loud and I want to give him a bear hug.

Ay Papi! I miss you so much! I don't think I'll ever stop hurting.

To all my friends who are fathers, both men and women, Happy Father's Day!

Enjoy today as it is in your honor. But don't forget the indelible memories you have etched -- and will continue to etch -- in the hearts of those who call you "Father."

~~ML