Author Override: Bianca Sommerland

Author Override is the place where authors take the reins and take you on a journey into their world. Some may allow you into their private writing dens. Others may take you along with them on research trips or interviews. Whatever the case may be, sit back, relax and enjoy the ride because here you’ll get an in-depth look into an author’s musings.

Maidens, the things we do for you sometimes!  I have to say that even though facing a deliciously dangerous man like Sloan Callahan is hard work, I gladly did it for you girls! ;)  Enjoy this special post that Ms. Sommerland has put together for all of us to peak into her latest book, Game Misconduct.

 

Interview with Sloan Callahan 

and The Dartmouth Cobras

Swish, slash, swish.

Francesca made her way along the short aisle between the bleachers and strode up to the benches. A fairly large man with black hair wearing a black and gold jersey sat there, waiting. She stopped by his side and cleared her throat when he didn't acknowledge her.

"Have a seat, Francesca," he said, gaze still locked on the rink. "I'll be with you in a moment."

She pursed her lips, perched on the bench, and placed her clasped hands over her purse on her lap.

Swish, slash, swish.

"Ugh!"

A huge black man nailed his teammate into the boards and she jumped. Her purse fell off her lap and hit the floor. Before she could grab it, the man beside her reached down and handed it to her. She froze as his dark eyes leveled with hers and the chill from the ice crawled up her spine. Gasping in a mouthful of crisp air, she snatched her purse and skidded sideways on the seat.

"Relax, little one. I won't hurt you." His lips quirked. "Unless you want me to."

You are arrogant! She gave him a stiff, professional smile. "Sloan Callahan?"

"Yes."

Jerking her chin towards the rink, she focused on the man still hunched over on the ice. "Shouldn't you make sure he's okay?"

Just then, the fallen man laughed and plopped back on his ass. "You call that a hit, Mason? If that was a pounding, I feel bad for your girlfriend!"

 Sloan chuckled. "That's Carter. He's a tough kid. Which is good, because that mouth of his earns him a regular bruising."

"I see." Francesca arched a brow. "I'm assuming the 'girlfriend' he mentioned is the one you share with Dominik Mason and Max Perron? Would you care to explain how that works?"

He smiled slyly. "In the bedroom? I'm afraid I don't kiss and tell, sweetheart."

"Fine. Then how does the relationship work? You don't seem like the type of man who would be comfortable sharing the woman you love."

"Ah, but I don't always 'share' her. I think it works because we each have a special bond with her, and with each other." He looked over the ice, first at Dominik, then at a man with wavy blond hair she figured must be Max. "I trust them to give her what she needs and they trust me to do the same."

"Which means you couldn't satisfy her on your own."

"I do satisfy her on my own, but I give her more by accepting she has needs I can't fulfill." He shrugged. "It's not a cookie-cutter relationship, and we're still figuring things out, but we're all happy and that's what matters."

A shout tore her attention from her questions and she leaned forward to watch two men race across the ice at breakneck speeds. The goaltender came out to meet them, diving just in time to stop the puck.

Snow sprayed up and she blinked as snow shavings spit up into her face. Dreamy blue eyes filled her vision as Max leaned over and cleaned the melting droplets from her cheeks.

"Sorry about that, darlin'. I was aiming for Sloan." His fingers brushed her hair as he glanced over at his captain. "Another interview? You sure are warming up to the PR."

"It's part of the job." Sloan shot her a wink before rising and vaulting over the boards. "You want to take over while I make sure Mason doesn't hurt Carter for real."

"It would be my pleasure, Captain." Max rested his forearms on the boards and smiled at her. "Ask me anything."

Anything? She bit her bottom lip and frowned in Sloan's general direction. "Aren't you afraid he'll hurt Oriana? He's a sadist—and from what I gather, not just the sensual kind."

Max inclined his head. "This is true. But Sloan knows what he's doing and Oriana needs more pain than I enjoy dishing out. Besides, there's nothing more erotic than watching them dance on the line between pleasure and pain. She's beautiful when she surrenders to it, when her body curves to receive each lash of the belt or his bare hand when she needs lighter play for time to heal."

"Time to heal? How do you know he's not pushing her too far?"

"That's where Dominik comes in. He sets the limits because neither Sloan or I would be able to." He moved over as Dominik skated up to stand beside him. "And she revels in the structure he brings to the table. I know she feels safe with us all, but she trusts Dominik on another level. He can read her better than I can and that's saying something."

"And you're still teaching them?" Francesca directed her next question to Dominik, unable to fully meet his gold-specked gaze as he looked down at her. "Wouldn't it be easier to just do it all yourself? Why take the risk of them screwing up with her?"

"These men are like brothers to me. I would trust them with my life. And I trust them with the woman I love."

"So you all love her?" Her brow furrowed. The concept wasn't an easy one to understand. "A man in love usually thinks 'mine'."

Dominik shook his head. "Not if he knows 'ours' is a better fit."

Francesca thought on that as she continued her questioning, asking a little about the game and how traveling affected Oriana. She wasn't surprised when the men told her she usually joined them on the road. The girl went beyond what little she knew of puck bunnies. She was obsessed with the game.

She had one last question though. "What does she do when you lose?"

Both men laughed and Max answered. "PMS is nothing compared to a Delgado female after a loss."

A sharp throat clearing behind her made her turn.

Oriana stood there, scowling at the men. "You lost the last game. Maybe you should be practicing. Your passes are sloppy."

The men nodded and headed back out onto the ice after a brief farewell.

Francesca stared at Oriana.

Oriana smiled. "I may be submissive, but not out here. I hope you got all you need, because the men don't need any more distractions."

"I've got enough, for now." Francesca stood and sidestepped around the shorter woman. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

"Well, I would like to speak to Silver when she's available."

"That shouldn't be a problem." Oriana handed her a slip of paper. "You want a story? Talk to her. She'll tell you anything you want to know."

Oh, I plan to.

* * * *

READ OUR REVIEW 

The game has always cast a shadow over Oriana Delgado's life. She should hate the game. But she doesn't. The passion and the energy of the sport is part of her. But so is the urge to drop the role of the Dartmouth Cobra owner's 'good daughter' and find a less...conventional one.

Playmaker, Max Perron, never expected a woman to accept him and his twisted desires. Oriana came close, but he wasn't surprised when she walked away. A girl like her needs normal. Which he can't give her. He's too much of a team player, and not just on the ice.

But then Oriana's father goes too far in trying to control her and she decides to use exposure as blackmail. Just the implication of her spending the night with the Cobra's finest should get her father to back off.

Turns out a team player is exactly what she needs.

Warning

This ebook contains material not suitable for readers under 18. In also contains scenes
that some may find objectionable, including BDSM, ménage sex, bondage, anal sex, sex toys, double penetration, voyeurism, edge play, and hockey equipment being used inappropriately.

Excerpt:

“I’m sure.” Max said. He dropped his hand and backed up a bit. “You’re a master, Mason. I’ve seen what you can do without layin’ a hand on a sub.”

A sub? Oh hell. She’d seen the term in her book. He didn’t mean . . . “Max—”

“No, Oriana.” Dominik took one hand from her waist, then slid the very tips of his fingers along her jaw. “Look at me.”

She couldn’t imagine looking anywhere else. The gold flecks in his dark brown eyes entranced her, reminded her of a gold mine she’d visited and the gold veins running through the rocks beyond signs that read ‘Danger’.

Too appropriate. The man really should have ‘Caution’ labelled on him somewhere. Maybe smack dab in the middle of his forehead where a girl couldn’t miss the warning.

Dominik chuckled and picked her up by the hips to sit her on the edge of the sink. “So pensive. What’s on your mind?”

With him standing close enough for her to bask in his body heat?

She shifted back as far as she could without falling into the sink. “Caves. Your eyes . . . .” Damn, damn, damn. “I mean—”

“Caves?” He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilted his head to one side. “Now I’m curious. Why do my eyes make you think of caves?”

She folded her hands on her lap and focussed on keeping the edge of the jersey from slipping up any further. Bad enough the undersides of her thighs were directly on the cold counter. A little more and the men would get another eyeful of her see-through panties. Were any of them looking? She snuck a glance at Max and Sloan. Both were studying her with disturbing intensity. What about T.J and Tyler? She leaned over a little further to see around the muscular black shoulders cutting her off from the rest of the room.

“Oriana.” Dominik gently pried her hands apart and lowered them to her sides where he held them in a loose grip. “I asked you a question.”

A Question? She blinked at him, confused. Then she remembered. The caves. “I visited a gold mine in Timmins, Ontario. Your eyes made me think of it . . . .” Lame much? She shrugged. “They’re pretty.”

Someone snickered—probably Tyler. A yelp cut the snicker short.

“I hadn’t taken you for a girl who’d explore the darkness.” The resonance of his tone seemed to echo in her bones. Little tremors ran up her spine. He moved closer, but still touched nothing but her hands. “I find tours rather tame, though. Would you consider something a little more . . . thrilling?”

Yikes. She had a pretty good idea where he was going with this. She moved to slip off the counter. “Dominik--”

“Do. Not. Move.”

She froze.

He smiled and stroked her inner wrists with his thumbs. “Now, as I was saying—maybe I could take you with me cave diving this summer. Nova Scotia has some beautiful underwater caves.” He pressed his hips between her knees and brushed the hair off her shoulder with his chin. “Some consider it dangerous, but I know what I’m doing. I could teach you.”

“Umm . . . .” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to decide right away. Just consider the adventure, the chance to try something new.” His breath teased the flesh over her quickening pulse. “Which is what you’re doing now. Right?”

Before she considered the question, the answer came. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He backed away and straightened. “I want you to close your eyes.”

Her eyes drifted shut.

“Sloan was right. You don’t want to be in charge, you don’t want control. Imagine giving it up. Imagine me holding you right where you are.” She felt him shift and something grazed the jersey between her breasts. His heat swept through the fabric like a gentle caress. “And doing whatever I please.”

Oh, yes. His words made her imagination run wild. Carnal images of things she’d never thought of trying flashed behind her closed lids like erotic stills. Everything inside her cried out for her to make the fantasy a reality. Pure hot lust spilled over, dampening the swatch of lace between her thighs. She hadn’t been this wet, well...ever. This man’s voice alone made her feel like her pussy was being stroked and teased with a very skilled tongue. She imagined Max drinking her in with his eyes, enjoying the way she responded to the man he’d given her to and her core throbbed. She gasped and let her thighs part. Dominik could do whatever he pleased. So long as he did something. She opened her eyes, ready to beg.

Dominik was on his knees. “So you spilled that coffee after all.” He pressed a light kiss over the burnt flesh on her thigh. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

And who said kisses didn’t make the pain go away? The scent of citrusy soap wafted up as she inhaled deep, making her feel a little dizzy. She put her hand on his shoulder to steady herself. “I was the one who left.”

“Yes, well you won’t be given that option again.”

Good. Her toes curled as he pressed another kiss further up her thigh. Mmm, very good.

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