Thanks for having me on the blog today! I’ll be talking to you, dear readers, about my latest release, Pride and Politics. It’s book 6 in my Men of Holsum College series, but can be read as a stand alone work.
On with the blog…
There’s something so sexy about a man in a tie. Maybe it’s the hint of wealth, or the thought of him taking it off. Perhaps it’s simply that it’s a piece of clothing that screams “masculine.” But I tend to think it’s all about power.
Why else would the cover of 50 Shades of Grey feature nothing more than a necktie? That thin stretch of silk can have so many delightful uses. A tie can snazz up an outfit or bring out a man’s eyes. It can flaunt his style or hint at his sexuality. And of course, a tie can be used to, y’know…tie things.
Like wrists. To headboards.
Ties, like high heels, bring out conflicted feelings in even the most level-headed person. Both are restrictive and uncomfortable, but also bestow a stately elegance to the wearer. A tie is the noose worn by CEOs and presidents. And I’ve always wondered whether on some level the necktie has remained in the Western wardrobe so long precisely because it’s is a double-edged sword. Power is always coupled with restraint.
In Pride and Politics, my heroes Hunter and Steve spend a lot of time wearing suits. They also drive around in limousines and stay at 5-star hotels. Hunter’s uncle is running for Vice President, and Hunter is forced to attend press conferences and fundraisers with the uncle he hates, making the ticket appear more gay-friendly.
The noose is tight around Hunter Ford’s neck. And perhaps that’s why, when my characters have their inevitable sex-in-a-limousine moment, Hunter uses Steve’s tie, rather than his own.
Let’s take a peek…
* * * * *
“Hey.” Hunter tilted Steve’s face, looked in his eyes. His smile was slow and thawed the coldness in his eyes.
Steve felt like he had turned to putty.
“I’m going to do you, now,” Hunter said. Then he handed Steve his champagne glass. “Drink.”
The glass felt cool against Steve’s heated lips. And the champagne tasted sharp and sweet and good. Steve handed it back, letting Hunter put it back in its holder. He didn’t want to leave his spot, sitting on his heels by Hunter’s feet.
“I like this tie on you.” Hunter tugged Steve’s tie down a short way. He kissed Steve once, quickly and not giving Steve a chance to kiss back. Then, with a glint in his eyes, he tugged Steve’s tie out of his collar and flipped it around, pressing the long section across Steve’s mouth.
“Here. Bite down.”
Steve opened his mouth. Felt silk, smooth but unyielding, against his tongue. He did what Hunter said, but around his mouthful, he asked, “Won’t it get wet?”
Hunter smiled as he unhooked Steve’s belt and began unfastening Steve’s pants. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”
He palmed Steve’s dick through the cotton of his briefs, and Steve had to admit that at that moment he didn’t give a fuck if he chewed right through his damn tie.
“I’m going to fuck you. In case you hadn’t figured that out yet,” Hunter said. He was completely calm and looking more at Steve’s chest than his eyes. Still, he kept up his rough tugging on Steve’s shaft.
Steve huffed a little moan, glad to have something in his mouth to stop him from being louder. God, he wanted it so badly. But there was a driver only feet away. And the city lights were passing outside, faded by the dark windows.
Hunter studied Steve’s face for a second, like he was reconsidering his plan.
But before Hunter could change his mind, Steve nodded. He tried to say, “Please,” but around the tie in his mouth, it came out sounding like, “Eess.”
“Okay.” Hunter rolled his eyes a little, like he was making fun of Steve, but kindly. “You’re so much trouble sometimes.”
* * * * *
As you can imagine, they do a lot more after that.
If you’d like a chance to read for yourself, go buy a copy here.
Aloof and arrogant, Holsum College Junior Hunter Ford has enjoyed all the perks of being from one of America's most prominent families. Hunter can have anything he wants--except time away from his family's political spotlight and the image consultant hired to keep him there.
Steve’s job is simple—make Hunter toe the line for the duration of his uncle’s vice-presidential campaign. This is the break Steve's been waiting for and a chance to provide a better life for his deaf sister. But he didn't count on an attraction to the broken scion—one that rearranges everything Steve thought he knew about himself.
As Steve melts Hunter's icy exterior, the heat between them threatens more than just their hearts. Then a ghost from Hunter’s past shows up on the campaign, challenging Hunter’s stability, and straining Steve’s ability to defend and protect the man he’s growing to love.
Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn't sure if she writes erotica. Her romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris's dismay the sex tends to get completely out of hand.
She writes about fantastical creatures and about young men getting their freak on, and she's never missed an episode of The Walking Dead.