And now for something completely different! Some of my fellow authors are playing a game of tag, and I’ve been tagged by C. Descoteaux. The game is to find the word “look” in your current work in progress, and post an excerpt from that section of the manuscript. (I guess because we want people to look? ar ar ar)

So, here’s mine. The working title for this novel is Bonds.


I must look like a complete dork when I’m dancing, but I don’t care. It’s an ecstatic experience, like drugs, only without the bad side effects. I go all out, sweating, swaying, closing my eyes and just feeling it, and it takes me into a completely altered state of consciousness. Which is probably why I saw his true form when he showed up at the club.

It was only a glimpse. I was on the dance floor, lost in the music and the way it stirred my body, when someone bumped into me. I opened my eyes. In that instant before my vision focused, I saw something moving through the crowd. It was at least a head taller than the tallest person there, muscular and bulky in a way that wasn’t quite human. What made it unmistakably alien was the pair of huge ram’s horns that curled on either side of its head. The moment I tried to get a better look, it vanished as if it had never been there. Was I imagining things? Sometimes dancing put me in a trance state. Maybe I should take a break.

Music throbbed and wailed in a techno beat that beckoned to me to keep going, but I decided to get something to drink. The place was packed, as it always was on Saturday nights. I elbowed my way through a crowd of leather and fetish outfits, careful to avoid being skewered by the ridiculously high heels many of the women – and a few of the men – wore. The scents of sweat and perfume competed with each other in the writhing mass of humanity.

The Wild Side wasn’t much different from other clubs. It had a dance floor, loud music, a few tables and booths, and a bar. A lot of us in the BDSM scene liked to hang out there, though, mainly because the basement had been converted into a dungeon. Dave, the owner, hosted play parties on Saturdays, and rented it out for private use during the rest of the week. I had some fetish clothing of my own, but tonight I was wearing a loose, flowing dress that didn’t inhibit movement, and shoes that wouldn’t break my ankle out on the dance floor. The only kinky thing about me was the item I wore around my neck. No, not a collar. It was a chain ending in little clamps that I had fastened together. Your average man on the street wouldn’t recognize what it was, but it got a lot of amused grins here.

End excerpt

The other rule of this game is that you have to tag five more people. Okay, guys, you’re it!

Antonia van Zandt

Milly Taiden

Susan Taylor

Rhonda Laurel

JM Stewart