I’m happy to present my interview with J Richards. Her book Yes, Sir.
(blurb and excerpt below)
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Hi J., Thanks for stopping by to talk a little about your writing! Let’s jump right in. When did you begin writing and why?
I have always been a lover of books. I only started writing a few months ago even though it had been a life goal to publish something. I am a firm believer that everyone has a story to tell and am very thankful for Etopia Press for helping me tell mine.
Do you have a favorite genre? Is it the same genre you prefer to write?
I am very much a lover of erotica. I think passion is something everyone can understand yet not everyone experiences. I know this genre can limit the amount of readers looking into my book but it’s not something I could change if I wanted to.
Do certain themes and ideas tend to capture your writer’s imagination and fascinate you?
The BDSM Lifestyle controls my writing, I think mostly because it’s all fantasy for me. Like wishing to be a mermaid, I wish to swim in the pain and pleasure but settle for writing about it instead.
Do you have a favorite author who introduced you to the genre?
Anne Rice, but her pen name for the Beauty series is A. N. Roquelaure
What advantages or challenges does a writer in your genre face in today’s fiction market?
For me, telling my family that I wrote an Erotica is the biggest challenge! Most are supportive but there are a few who are understandable uncomfortable.
Can you tell readers who are interested the general difference between erotica and erotic romance?
I think everyone has their own thoughts on what the difference is, for me I stick to the rule erotic romance ends with a “Happily ever-after” and erotica doesn’t need to be all wrapped up in a happy bow.
Tell me a little about the characters in Yes, Sir.
Abby is a mother and a wife who I find easily relatable. She feels like she is drowning in her life and the routine she carried out each day. She desperately wants to find a spark somewhere in her life but it manages to stay just out of her reach.
Where’s the story set? How much influence did the setting have on the atmosphere/characters/development of the story?
This story actually began as a dream, one I kept having so I thought I would write it down and see what would come of it. Most of the story takes place in a hotel room with a strange man. *Eye brow wiggle*
Were your characters difficult to write, or did they seem to spring easily from your mind to the page?
The characters seemed to have a life of their own before I even attempted to write them down.
Do you prefer to extensively plot your stories, or do you write them as they come to you?
I much rather have a plan so I that I can avoid being stuck. Sometimes the outlines change as the characters develop more but I would rather have something rather than nothing.
What is your writing process like?
For me the first thing I do is come up with an outline. Starting with all the thoughts that I want to happen for the characters. Where will they be, what problems with arise and the like. Then I sit at my laptop with lots of iced coffee and music playing and I begin to fill in the blanks of the outline.
Are there specific challenges that writers face as opposed to other artists?
I think every “Job” has its struggles. My biggest challenge is trying not to sound too much like other authors. I want my work to stand out as something “new” and “fresh” rather than “Oh, she sounds like …”
How often does your muse distract you from day to day minutiae?
I am distracted all day, every day! My brain is always wondering “what will happen next and how can I get them from A to B.” It’s a never ending thought process and my life seems to happen in auto pilot as my brain wanders off until I can get in front of my laptop and get the thoughts out!
If you had to write your memoir in five words, what would you write?
Exciting process, I would repeat.
What do readers have to look forward to in the future from you?
I have a short series coming out after this book is released and plan on many more to come!
Thanks again for stopping by, J.! Readers can discover more about J. Richards here:
Is getting everything you want worth losing everything you have?
Abby Jackson is a frustrated housewife. Her husband pays more attention to his Xbox than to her. She fills her days with erotica novels, wishing her husband would listen to her desperate pleas for more excitement in their sex lives, but he wants nothing to do with her wild fantasies.
When Abby goes out for her weekly girl’s night with her best friend Kelly, they enjoy a dangerous game of truth or dare that leads Abby to a controlling stranger who takes a shot of vodka from her breasts. The night rattles her to her core, and keeps Mr. Dark and Handsome in her mind for days after.
Just as she returns to her boring, routine life, she gets a mysterious text message from an unknown number to come spend the night exploring her most secret desires. She knows she shouldn’t go, but how can she not? Arriving at the hotel and unsure what will happen, Abby finds a box with a skimpy panty set, a blindfold, and a riding crop inside. There are also instructions to wear only what the box contains and to be ready for when the stranger arrives. Abby’s first lesson in the dominant/submissive world has just begun. The only frightening thing is how much she gets off on it. But will it fulfill her secret fantasies…or endanger everything she has?
Reader discretion: contains light BDSM, spanking, blindfold play, multiple partners, intimate strangers, secret fantasies, domination/submission elements
An Excerpt from Yes, Sir
CHAPTER ONE (part!)
I always look forward to girls’ night. A few hours, every other week, where I am allowed to be me. Just Abby. Not the wife and mother that I struggle to be day in and day out. Tonight we’ve chosen the fun and casual atmosphere of Submerge. The bar is filled with a soft blue hue and laughter is abundant. People mill about in groups for after-work drinks. Football games from TVs in every corner of the room and loud pop music blasts against my ears.
“OK!” Kelly squeals as she presses another beer into my hands. The foam spills over the top, and I can’t stop the girly giggle that escapes my lips as I run my hands over the glass, flicking the excess liquid in her direction. Her nose wrinkles and she pinches my side. More giggles ensue before she begins again. “It’s dare time!” she whispers all too loudly and we huddle together, eyes spanning over the crowd in the bar. “I dare you to get a guy to take a shot from your cleavage.” She wiggles her perfectly threaded eyebrows at me.
“What! Are you crazy?” I half-heartedly gasp. In real life, I would never contemplate doing such a thing, but girls’ night isn’t real life. It’s escape. “Do I get to pick him?” I laugh before swallowing down half of my beer for courage.
“What fun would that be?” She grins wickedly and sits up taller to look for her victim. “You would choose the meekest man in here.” Kelly’s lips part in an O and she points a finger. I have to lean against her to see whom she has picked out.
At the end of the bar, where the light doesn’t seem to reach, stands a large figure. The air around him shivers with his calm confidence. My tummy flutters and I shake my head. “No. I don’t think he likes shots!” I pray she will spare me and pick another. The mischief in her face says I don’t stand a chance. I slide off the counter high bar stool and smooth my hands down my thighs. I tug at the hem of my fitted tee self-consciously.
“Oh, quit.” Her manicured hand swipes through the air. “Go!” she snickers over her beer. Settling in for the show. I roll my eyes at her and try to hold in my whine. Taking a deep breath, I make my way to the bar.
Several stools separate me from the man I have to convince to take a shot from my tits. Leaning my elbows on the sleek bar top, I try to catch the eye of the bartender. While I wait, my eyes skim over the man. Dark hair falls over his forehead in an Eduardo Verastegui kind of way. My fingers suddenly itch to run through that tempting darkness. His long fingers are swiping over a cell phone in a shockingly fast pace. The glow of the phone showing off his thick eyelashes over light eyes. Are they blue or green? I can’t tell from this far away.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, his voice startling me from my observations. I smile sweetly and ask for a shot of vodka. I look back at Kelly. She makes shooing motions with her hands in an attempt to hurry me along. I’d better come up with a great dare to compete with this.
“Here you go, beautiful,” the bartender yells, placing the shot in front of me. I smile at his attempt in a higher tip. He seems so young and full of energy as he zips up and down the bar, filling drinks left and right. God, when did I get so old? His toothy smile and the goofy way he is looking at my cleavage makes me giggle. I grab a folded five-dollar bill from my bra and hold it up between two of my fingers.
“Thanks, doll.” I watch him snatch the money from my hand and dart to another customer.
With the small shot glass in hand, I steel my nerves, positive that this strange man will send me on my way, probably before I can even mention the shot. I wish briefly that I dressed up for tonight’s outing but shake the feeling off and try to flood my nerves with confidence. I normally stand two inches over five feet, but tonight my four-inch heels give me added self-assurance. My faded blue jeans hug tightly over my plump ass and my comfortable worn-in tee shows plenty of cleavage. What man wouldn’t want the chance to get closer to my curvaceous body?
Quickly, I pull my strawberry blond hair from the messy bun on top of my head. The waves tumble down against my shoulders and I lift my chin. Now or never, Abby! Placing the shot on the counter in front Mr. Dark and Handsome, I lick my suddenly dry lips and clear my throat.
His strong jaw lifts up from his phone and his gaze heats my skin, starting at the very top of my head and moving achingly slow down to my toes. “Yes?” He smirks at me. I can feel a burning blush crawl up my pale throat and bloom over my freckled cheeks.
“Hi.” I look up at him and feel my heart sliding down into my stomach. “I, um, have a terribly awkward favor to ask you.” My hip leans against the bar and I turn my shoulders toward his direction, offering more of my body for his visual pleasure.
“Really?” he asks, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. “And how can I help you, little one?” His smile is easy and wicked. This man is made of sin, I am sure of it.
“My friend.” I point my small index finger at Kelly and she waves like the goof she is. I laugh at her and drop my face into my hands. I yank in another deep breath before lifting my head to look into his soft blue eyes. “She dared me.” I pause again, unsure of how to say the dare to a stranger without sounding like a moron. My teeth sink into the left side of my lower lip. He drops his elbow against the bar top and leans in slightly. My eyes jump over his wide shoulders. He is wearing a white cotton T-shirt under a dark suit jacket and jeans a few shades darker than mine.
“Yes?” He seems amused by my struggle and the situation. He looks down at my left hand resting on my hip. My big square-cut wedding ring is catching the soft blue lights and tossing them off my hand. One of his eyebrows jumps up in silent questioning.
“The evil bitch dared me to ask you to take a shot.” I wrinkle my nose. “From my chest?” I turn my head in embarrassment ready to flee as soon as he says he would never do anything so foolish.
“Ah.” He chuckles. Those long fingers of his circle the rim of the shot glass. “And would your husband approve of your actions?” Again my teeth sink harshly into my lip.
“Oh, um. No, he wouldn’t.” My eyes are mesmerized by his finger, like he has hypnotist powers or something, and I shift my feet nervously. “But it’s girls’ night!” I force a smile and push my hip from the bar to stand in front of him in an attempt to look flirty and fun. I guess I’ll just wish him well and go punch Kelly in the thigh for the humiliation she has caused me.
His hand comes up and softly grips my elbow. There is no pain but also no give. “Who am I to ruin girls’ night?” he asks in a deep tone that causes a shiver down my spine. The other big, big strong hand of his comes up to rest against my hip and he tugs me until I am standing between his thighs. My eyes widen and I look up at him. “Here,” he says softly, placing the shot glass into my hand.
I look back at Kelly one last time before tucking the chilly glass between my hot breasts. Small chill bumps rise over my skin and he chuckles again. The sound makes my throat tighten and my back lengthen as I stand up taller.
The hand that was against my elbow slowly moves up to the back of my neck. His thumb strokes down the pulsing vein in my throat. His eyes are running over my flushed face, my throat, the rise and fall of my chest as I struggle to appear calm. “Ready?” he asks.
“Um.” I shift under his hands.
“Say, ‘Yes, sir,’” he coaches me. My brain spins and I almost forget where I am.
“Yes, sir,” I whimper just above a whisper and his head lowers. A soft clink catches my ears as his teeth grip the edge of the glass. Throwing his head back smoothly, I watch the vodka drain from the glass and his throat swallow. His hands slide off my body and he pulls the glass from his lips.
“Now, thank me,” he says with that wicked smile of his. You would think he had just held the door for me and expected a pleasant thank you.
“Th-thank you,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes away from his. He leans back and finally I can breathe. His chin juts out toward Kelly, indicating I should go. As if he has more control over my body than I do, my feet turn and I can hear the clicking of my heels as I hurry back to my friend.
“Oh my God!” Kelly gushes when I sit down. Her hands fly to her heart and she looks me over. “That looked very intense! I can’t believe you really did it!”
Grabbing my beer, I finish it off and slam it a bit too hard against the table. “Me either.” I look over my shoulder and see Mr. Dark and Handsome looking me over. Shaking my head, I turn back to Kelly. “I almost had a heart attack!” Playfully, I reach out and punch her in her thigh.
“Ow! Damn.” She giggles. “OK, OK. Enough fun for one night.” She looks at her watch. “Our few hours of freedom are up anyway.” She jumps off the stool and tucks her purse under her arm. “Go start the car and I’ll settle the tab.”
I can’t refuse her offer after what just happened. “Thank you.” I huff in fake aggravation and walk out of the bar without looking at Mr. Dark and Handsome. Mind you, the effort that it takes is more than great. The air outside the bar is chilly, and I welcome the bite of it. Getting into the car, I start the engine and run my hands up and down my thighs in effort to rub out the feelings running through me. I didn’t even ask his name and yet feel as though he saw through me, to my very soul. Not only saw my soul but took possession of it. I shake my head, wishing to forget about tonight.