Being At The Mercy of Your Characters by Doris O’Connor (@mamad8)
Hello everyone, and a big thanks to Lucy for hosting me today 🙂
Before I became a writer myself, I used to shake my head when someone said the above. How can you be at the mercy of your characters? They are not real, right? They are made up, make believe, your creation, you decide what happens…
Those folks had to be some sort of… well, odd person. They can’t understand the difference between make believe and real life.
You know where this is going, don’t you? Yeeees, a big case of eat your own words in my case. When I actually sat down to write down all these story ideas in my head, the most annoying thing happened. This careful plan that I had, those damn characters just wouldn’t stick to it. Arguing was pointless, which brings me to another point. How can you argue with a character in your head? Screwy, right?
Well, actually, wrong. Certainly if you’re a panster like me, that happens on a regular basis. Or, perhaps I should say that used to happen on a regular basis, back in those days, when I was still under the mistaken belief that I was in charge of writing the story.
Once I let go of that notion, something magic happened. The words flowed, and somehow by the end of the book, as long as I listened to my characters, it all somehow came together and made sense.
It still amazes me every time it happens, especially with those stories where I have no clue where it is heading.
Take this story, for instance. Let’s Get it On started as a vague idea when I actually listened to the words of Marvin Gaye’s song.
I have always liked this song, but I never really listened to it, if you see what I mean. This time I did, and a story idea was born. Originally it was supposed to be a simple short m/f, and then I started writing it.
Some stories flow out of my head onto the keyboard—this wasn’t one of those.
No, it niggled away, with other characters interfering, and other stories demanding to be told, until finally these characters were ready to tell me all. Even then, we hit obstacles. My m/f morphed into a m/f/m. The heroine revealed that whole long back story I had no idea she had, etc.
Now, before, I would have fought them tooth and nail, but with four years’ worth of listening to my characters under my belt, I did just that. I listened and wrote. I cried with them, despaired with them, argued a teeny bit and promptly lost, and the end result is this.
A hot story for sure, but also an emotional and sad one at times that took me, as the spectator who took dictation, so to speak through the ringer at times.
Oh, there were plenty of laugh out loud moments too. Always are with my characters. As one hero once told me, “Doris, you’re telling my story, so bloody well tell it the way I tell you.”
That was me told then. Of course it doesn’t help that I tend to write Doms, and, trust me, you don’t argue with them. They wrap the little subbie in me right round their little fingers, and I do as I’m told. Much to hubby’s/Sir’s amusement. He is used to me now when I mutter about those damn domly types. After all he is one himself, and when he gets that look, nope, not arguing with him either. No, Sireee.
On the flip side of that, he is also quick to offer a cuddle when I emerge after writing a particularly difficult scene. He gets me, which is just as well, or I reckon he’d have had me carted off to the loonie bin by now.
Yep, I’m one of those odd folks, at the mercy of her characters. 🙂
[Ménage Amour: Erotic Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, spanking, caning, ice play, erotic asphyxiation, sex toys, HEA]
When Lily Jephson falls asleep at work, her erotic dream is witnessed by none other than her boss’s brother. Awkward doesn’t begin to describe it, especially when she can’t help but respond to the enigmatic Dom. She wants his brother…doesn’t she?
Cyrus Cooper loves to play games, and he can’t resist the opportunity to yank his brother’s chain a bit. Nothing will convince the stubborn Sloan more to finally make a move on Lily than thinking this delightful subbie is involved with Cyrus.
However, when it becomes apparent that Lily needs help to work through the emotional scars left behind by her early introduction into the lifestyle, Cyrus knows this is far more than a game. The brothers are just the Doms to show her what a true D/s relationship should be like.
Lily thrives under their combined Dominance, but when her old Master re-appears her life is put in danger.
She has never needed her Sirs more.
Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/lets-get-it-on
“Hmm, such a sweet, delicious subbie we have here. Dessert number two for you and me, me thinks.”
Cyrus’s sandpapery voice sunk into her consciousness, and she almost leapt off the chair when both men’s hands delved between her pussy lips this time. Sloan sunk several fingers knuckle-deep into her hole, while Cyrus circled her clit repeatedly.
They murmured their approval as she grew embarrassingly wet for them, and, biting back a moan, lifted her hips to give them better access. She curled her fingers round the edges of her chair to give her more leverage. God, she was close, so close, if only—
The yank to her hair hurt, and brought her arousal down a notch, and she whimpered her denial when both men withdrew their hands from her cunt.
“Naughty little subbie, trying to hurry us along.” Cyrus’s stubble created more tingles of awareness across the sensitive area under her ear, as he whispered the words to her and then bit down on her earlobe. His fingers dug into the flesh of her upper thigh as she jerked and tried to close her legs. Sloan, too, had a bruising grip on her other leg, and, pinned between her men, she couldn’t move.
“Please… I need to, please?” The barely still functioning side of Lily’s brain marveled at the desperate quality to her voice, but the needs of her body won over. These were her men, and they would take care of her, eventually. Rushing them when they were both in full Dom mode wouldn’t achieve anything.
“Trust us. Let us take you out of your head for a little while, pet.” Sloan’s voice this time, and Lily sighed and nodded. Sloan claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss and she jumped when something incredibly cold dribbled into her cleavage. Sloan broke the kiss with a smile and she lost herself in the tender approval in his gaze.
“Shut your eyes for me, baby. Allow yourself to feel. We’ll make this so good for you, I promise.” Her stomach contracted in need and she drew a much needed breath into her lungs and let her eyes flutter shut.
“Beautiful.” Cyrus’s voice as yet more coldness dribbled along her lips and down her chin. An ice cube. She realized what it was with a start when Cyrus pushed the slippery object into her mouth. She crunched on it, and her nostrils flared as someone pulled her dress down until her breasts were exposed. Another set of hands bound her hands to the chair, and then her legs were lifted off her men’s legs, her bum shoved further forward on the chair, and ropes secured her legs to the chair, also. It allowed for the tiniest amount of wriggle room and she let her head fall back and bit her lips, when calloused fingers traced what had to be another ice cube up the inside of her thigh with agonizing slowness. Sloan, she recognized his heavy breaths as he leaned in close, traced another cube across her nipples in turn. The already hard buds contracted further. Shivers raced across her skin and she screamed when that piece of ice between her legs reached her cunt. Her pussy clenched in shocked need as the coldness slid along her fevered folds, circled her clit, and then was pushed inside her hole without warning. The coldness numbed her insides, and her vaginal muscles clenched around the object of torture, trying to expel it, and both men laughed.
“Oh, no, you don’t” Cyrus’s voice held that cruel streak he delivered so well, and her stomach lurched at his next growled words. “In fact, I think you can take more.”
“No, no, please, I… shiiiiit, nooo.”
Lily strained against her restraints, as the men’s laughter registered over the roaring in her ears, and Cyrus pushed several more ice cubes into her hole. Her insides cramped and her whole body shook in need as Cyrus’s warm hand cupped her slit and stopped her from expelling the cubes. His thumb circled her clit repeatedly, such a hot contrast to the coldness in her pussy, and then two hot mouths closed over her nipples and suckled hard.
Lily screamed in painful arousal as those nips and tucks delivered darts of pleasure to her clit, and her body shook with the force of her orgasm.
“So fucking hot. That’s our beautiful girl, come for us again.” Sloan interspersed his words with hot openmouthed kisses down the column of her neck and across her boobs. The fabric of her dress was further tugged down and she whimpered when Cyrus, she presumed, pushed another two ice cubes into her pussy hole. Warmth followed coldness, as his hot breath skittered across her labial lips, and she bucked as his mouth closed over her clit and sucked. Sloan chose that moment to swirl his tongue through her bellybutton and then resumed a slow path back up to her boobs. Another ice cube was applied to her nipples, making them ache and then Sloan’s warm mouth and fingers took that ache away. Heat flared through her as the last of the ice melted inside her channel and Cyrus pushed his tongue inside her cunt, and ruthlessly pushed her into another orgasm.
Swept away in ecstasy and with her whole body trembling in aftershocks, Lily was dimly aware of both men withdrawing and the rustle of clothes and then Sloan’s calloused fingers tilted her head back more. The room spun as the chair tilted backwards and then Lily stopped thinking altogether, as Sloan’s familiar salty musk invaded her senses.
“Open up for me, pet. It’s time for us both to fill your holes.”
Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.
She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.