Daisy Dominatrix

It's good to have a plan. Control freaks and detail oriented persons, like myself, thrive on having a plan. And a back-up plan. And a back-up plan for our back-up plans.

Self-publishing is my back-up plan. Not for everything. Some stories don't ever get where I want them to be, but others, well, they're special. And not stop eating the paste special. No, more like its outside the lines for  mainstream publishing and no one is going to roll the dice and pay me a big sum of money for this one because they aren't confident they are going to make the investment back. There are those publishers who'll invest time, but not money and I've gone that route before, but then I'm subjected to altering the manuscript to fit the vision of someone else.

Control freak me doesn't like that idea. It's my vision and if I'm not being compensated adequately for it, well, why should I change it on a maybe that I don't agree with? I've done it before and the result wasn't pretty.

I love self-publishing. It's turned me into a bestseller, on a book that underwent submission more times than I can remember. I can shoulder the responsibility that any mistakes are mine and mine alone, because at the end of the day, it's my name on the cover and my reputation on the line. It allows me to be in control. I say who, I say when and I say how much. (Name that quote ;-)

And it makes me some serious cash.

So, in that vein, I'd like you to meet my upcoming release.

Daisy Dominatrix: By Jennifer L. Hart
Coming Soon to Kindle, Nook and ARe

Until Batman strode into Madame Minerva’s Dungeon, Daisy Ellis thought she had everything she wanted. Duran Price isn’t really the Dark Knight, but both the Mild Mannered CPA and the Dominatrix who keeps her true identity hidden behind a Catwoman mask desire more than his submission. Fitting a relationship into a double life is a full-time job and with a super villainess riding shotgun, the power is up for grabs.

 Excerpt: The man stood by the large plate glass window overlooking the parking lot, his back to the wall and his long dark hair caught up in an elastic band halfway down his back. A big man, I estimated at least six four with broad shoulders tapering down to a whipcord lean torso and long legs. He wore a flannel shirt tucked into jeans and battered work boots. “Duran Price?”

            He turned toward me and my heart nearly exploded as our gazes locked.

            Holy hell, it was Batman!

            No, he looked nothing like Michael Keaton or Christian Bale but something about him screamed Dark Knight. Locking my knees so I didn’t fall flat on my face I studied his hawk-like nose, golden eyes, and full sensual lips. Catwoman reared up inside me and it took every ounce of my self-control not to go over to him and rub up against him.

            Down kitty.

            “You’re Ms. Ellis?”

            Oh God Almighty, his voice was an orgasm waiting to happen. A deep rich tone that struck a chord in me that was anything but professional.

            I stared at him like an idiot, paralyzed from the neck up, though my body practically liquefied in his presence. Damn it, I wasn’t even breathing and my lungs felt as though they’d been filled with wet concrete. For once Catwoman was no help, since she was too busy grooming herself to make idle chit chat. Left with no other recourse, I petitioned the universe, a little help here…?

            Denise shoulder-checked me hard, forcing me to break eye contact. “Daisy, what the hell is wrong with you?”

            “Sorry.” I tugged on the hem of my shabby gray sweater, avoiding his penetrating stare as I stammered out an apology. “Sorry, I was just—” lusting “—thinking. Won’t you please come back to my office so we can get started?”

            Whacka chicka, wacka chica baywn baywn. Cue the porno soundtrack. Criminy, I was such a dork. In my defense, I had never seen such an utterly delicious man in my entire life so I’d been totally unprepared for my reaction to him. Both gay Dave and Greg the sub had picked me up, they were into me, which fed Catwoman’s ego. To paraphrase Aunt Roberta, I’d never actually set my cap on a man before.

            And I couldn’t set it on this one either. He was a client, here to set up an account so I could manage his books, not to be my love slave. As I shlumped into my desk chair and revived my snoozing computer I forced my libido onto the back burner as I clicked open a new client file. Think professional.

            “So, Mr. Price—”

            “You can call me Duran,” that deep voice encouraged. Satan himself couldn’t come up with a more tempting bass.

            I swallowed and risked a glance his way. “Kay then, Duran. I’m Daisy, by the way.”

            Yeesh, when did Catwoman morph into Pollyanna golly-gee-wilikers?

            He smiled, a small twitch of his sensual lips. “Daisy. That’s pretty. It suits you.”

            The room’s sub-arctic temperature suddenly turned sweltering. “Thanks.”

            I got lost in his eyes again. Golden eagle’s eyes that made me forget my own name, other than the fact he thought it suited me. Catwoman preened and I curled my hand into a fist, sinking my nails into my palm. The small bite of pain brought me out of my lusty stupor. Business, focus on the business.