Author: Aya DeAniege

Commitment 

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Somehow on the drive down Dorian talked Mary’s friend into spending his last day with us. Mary included, of course. He also talked the friend into letting him pay for everything. Something about us being good hosts and us being such good friends.

The universe brought us together, and all that jazz.

Dorian is used to being in control and is a great deal better at keeping control. Yes, he can be manipulative when it comes to people he doesn’t care about. Which I suppose makes him a bit selfish.

We went to breakfast upon arrival and began exploring a bit. Mary declined to do anything scary, which is really most of the attractions.

Which probably had something to do with her friend teasing and then offering to hold her hand to get her through. 

Offering to protect her from the big scary world.

Mary’s not a damsel in distress, at least not usually. From what I’ve learned she was a D.i.D who got pissed off that her white knight wasn’t showing up, so she suited herself up. Her friend offering to save her constantly is a wound to her pride. He’s behaving as if a woman can’t function without a man.

Not a great thing to say to an ex-D.i.D. If he wanted to save her, he should have done so years ago, when they first met and she needed the help. Not now that she’s on her feet because of her hard work, heartbreak, and scars. 

I frigging love Mary. 

She’s physically taken on men three times her size (though she is a tiny woman) in order to protect those in her life. She moved to a new country by herself for opportunity and because she knew she needed to shed everything else if she wanted to survive. 

A woman like that, you don’t offer to save. You might offer to carry her burden for a while, but never save. She doesn’t need saving or a shoulder to cry on. 

I’m playing with character ideas, can you tell? Rachel is supposed to be an ex-D.i.D. This trip could work in my favor. 

Anyhow. 

After breakfast we did explore, as I had said before. When we got down to the Falls, Dorian quietly excused us and said we’d catch up to them. It’s not the first time he’s done that. Public play, out of sight but with the possibility of getting caught is definitely a turn on for him.

He took me off to the side. Some garden thing. This was my first time to the Falls so I don’t know the name. But there was a nice covered walk and in the back corner was a little pond that almost felt natural, almost like we were alone in the woods.

And he got down on his knee. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Three years we’ve been dating on and off, I think it’s about time, don’t you?”

We haven’t had a fight in over a month. I got a little suspicious when he offered to spend the whole week with me, but I never thought he’d be that stupid. 

“Fuck you, Dorian. We’re not even-”

And he produced a ring that I knew. 

I knew it because he had once bought me a candle and the ring had been in the candle. One of those new popular candles with mainly fake jewelry in it. That ring had been too big for me on any of my fingers, but I had liked the colour.

“Go steady with me.”

“You bastard.” 

“I had you going though, didn’t I?”

No more breakups and makeups. We’ll be official as could be. He won’t just be my Sir, but my actual boyfriend.

Hey, in this day and age, who says you can’t have great sex and get spanked by someone for three years before you go steady? 

He’ll meet my family, I’ll meet his. And we’ll see where this goes. 

The ring had been resized. It now fits on my right middle finger. It may not be worth much, but it means the world to me.

Because it’s from Dorian.

On Reactions 

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Poor Mary. 

She showed up with a bright red nose and bags under her eyes. I thought she had been crying, but no. She’s developed a stuffed up nose and headache overnight. She says it’s an allergic reaction to his cologne, which he isn’t wearing today because she asked him not to and blamed it for her nose.

Dorian shook his head and told me to watch them. Her friend won’t let her sit with me, because they’re supposed to be spending time together. But anytime they go apart, suddenly Mary can breathe fine.

She’s not allergic to him. She’s having a psychosomatic reaction to his presence.

Which supposedly Dorian only knew because he had seen the same reaction in me when dealing with my father. Even if the man calls, I start sniffing, which actually has relatively little to do with the fact he almost always makes me cry.

So we’re headed to the falls together. Mary didn’t tell him we were coming. As far as he knows it’s just a weird coincidence that we showed up. Thankfully she texted me that bit of information before we met up. 

Her friend came out with, “well, the sea air will be good for you,” as we were boarding the bus. Cue three people stiffening and turning to him. Then Dorian made a sound like a cough and turned his back on us to ask the driver when he was leaving. 

Dorian went for a smoke, but I saw him giggling as he did so.

“What?” Mary asked.

“Sea air is good for breathing.”

“We’re nowhere near a coast!”

“The falls are salt water.”

“We’re nowhere near a coast. The only inland salt water in Canada is the St. Lawerence river.”

“Oh? You learn something new every day.” 

To which they both looked at me.

“Saltwater inland is kind of a big deal. I only really know of the St. Lawrence and the Dead Sea… maybe. That might not be inland. But as one who creates worlds, I do make a small effort to know how the real world works.”

“Aya…” Dorian called from the smoking area, because he heard the tone of my voice even if he couldn’t make out the words.

I muttered a curse and left the forlorn couple to go accept my first warning. But I could do with a distraction, might take my mind off the dreams I keep having that involve Nolan.

Day Four… or in Other Words:

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Please let me go back to writing, I’ll be good! I won’t complain about the hours, or the editing, or how I feel insecure about my stories, I promise. Just let me go back to work!

Not that I really complained about the hours before…

Today we were supposed to go to Niagara Falls, but we overslept. Oh well. It kind of worked out in the end because er, let’s call her Mary, from yesterday? Well, Mary is going to the falls tomorrow with her man-friend.

Mary’s text dripped of a silently begging question. “Please, save me,” it cried. It didn’t take much for Dorian to change our plans around. Tomorrow we’ll go to the falls with Mary and her friend, to help her get through the week.

Dorian’s pretty certain she’d be interested in kink. Given the questions she’s dared to ask, I’m not surprised that he thinks that. So the next munch that happens, he wants me to invite her to it.

Oh yeah, me at a munch. Such a good example, Dorian.

I am kinky, but I do not like being submissive at munches. A fact that Dorian loves to take advantage of. If ever there were a time for me to keep my mouth shut, a munch is probably one of them. Not because subs should be quiet, but because the swear words that come out of my mouth, and my promise to “flay your dick off if you look at me again, you piece of shit.” every time my phone notifies me of a text, are sure to make people avoid me.

I swear when I get nervous. I also put on a tone of voice and glower at the intended idiot. If Dorian wasn’t there, it’d be no problem, but he insists I speak. If I didn’t have to speak, I wouldn’t get in trouble because I’d sit quietly with a drink, muttering to invisible friends.

Despite being ‘homebound’ today, I was not allowed to write. Taking the full week off means taking the full week off. My only respite is writing blog posts, which I swear Dorian only lets me write so that he can go back later, read it over, and see if he can torment me about anything else.

Hence avoiding all things smut today.

Yesterday Dorian finished reading Contract Renewed after we got home. He had taken it as his reading material. Of course his first comment was that it wasn’t directed at him, so he didn’t get as swept up in it. Then he asked if he should tie me up and invite Nolan over. If we should re-enact a scene from Contract Broken because he was pretty certain I’d enjoy it.

You know, what with the dirty dream on Monday?

No, Dorian.

Bad, Dorian!

I don’t care what actually ended up happening in the scene. Nolan is way too interested in making certain he has my undivided attention. And just because I write about three people having sex with one another doesn’t mean that I want to have a threesome.

Part Two

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Dorian’s being mean to me!

We went through the zoo with the other couple and I now have her number. He was just visiting from out of town and we were right, it was an “I’m old and need to settle.” Dorian very quietly let her know that there’s an entire group of men she hasn’t explored yet. 

She had decided against this particular man the night before he arrived. She was talking to her mother about some odd behaviour and her mother informed her that her father behaved in a similar fashion.

Apparently not a father of the year, type of guy.

She was also told that times have changed and that that behaviour could simply be the same norm. But could she see herself happy? 

I guess her response was no. Not that I blame her. I find him entirely annoying.

To the point that I made a couple of smart assed comments and earned myself three strikes. As in, I came home in trouble because I couldn’t help but call him a stupid, narcissistic douchebag. 

In public.

What got me in trouble was that I said those things out loud in front of children. One of whom gasped and ran away shouting, “mommy, mommy, that lady is bad.”

He might be a little bit sadistic, but Dorian doesn’t appreciate even a frustrated curse in front of little ones.

So when we got home… we discovered Trixie had thrown my olive oil onto the floor. It’s in a glass bottle. Or was…

As punishment Dorian made me clean it up while he sat and watched. He knows how uncomfortable that makes me, but not all discipline involves a paddle.

On the way back, I started falling asleep on the train. Dreaming of fragmented worlds. Of male MCs trying to bait me into choosing their world. It’s a little terrifying because I wake up in a mood and Dorian can see it in my eyes.

He takes great pleasure in tormenting me. When he’s done, he asks what they did and then takes more pleasure in explaining how he’d do it instead.

I think he likes that I’ve started writing erotica and romance.

Control Isn’t Just for Kinksters

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Control is something that we all deal with every day. Manipulators always need to be in control, narcissists need the attention on them and draw it with control. Being out of control can send the most stable looking person flying off the handle. 

I am not a morning person. Dorian is.

That’s not to say that I don’t get moving in the mornings. I do. I’m just crabby, irritable, lippy, and sometimes my tone alone is enough to stop Dorian mid-sentence.

It’s something we’re still learning the boundaries of, and this is the first time we’ve spent multiple mornings together. Waking up in his arms is fabulous. Waking to him waking me is amazing. 

Having him stay up after I get out of bed… not so much.

Currently I’m sitting on a bus to get on a train to go to a Zoo. Dorian drives, I do not. While I would have been comfortable with him driving, he’s not so comfortable with taking so many long day trips in his old beat up car.

What, were you hoping my Sir drove a mustang or a sports car of some sort? 

He’s been joking about getting one as his next car to fill out his image. Luckily for me, he’s being sarcastic. 

So we’re taking buses and trains. They’re very clean, though, and comfortable.

What’s not comfortable for me is the couple who looks uncomfortable. Perhaps give her age, and the fact that the man told Dorian what that age was, she’s trying to make do with an old boyfriend. Looks like she needs to kick him to the curb. He’s loud, embarrassing her, questioning everything she says and…

He kind of smells like sulphur? 

Oh, a demon. I’ll have to write that down somewhere.

There are wafts of his aftershave coming over, like he’s trying to hide the sulphur with some kind of sexy smell but on him? On him it’s nothing more than a scent that is too strong. It doesn’t lend to anything on him, it wasn’t paired with his own musk. He probably picked it up because it had “dark” or “sex” in the name. 

…

Shoot. They’re on the train too. And going to the same place! Looks like we have suddenly because a foursome.

Which given Dorian’s look, I have to make certain I draw a line. The woman is pretty and seems annoyed by everything her male companion does. When he boasted about paying for everything, her eyes rolled and she repeated that she can pay for herself.

I think he’s tying to impress her and has obviously not done any research on the woman he’s trying to woo. He talks about a new game, she’s watching out the window with rapt attention. 

He wants control over someone but wants control under his terms. The thing with control is that they need to accept the control, which means that it has to suit the person you’re controlling. Just repeating things until they accept can work.

I’m getting the feeling it wouldn’t work on this woman. I get the feeling that if she was on the fence, which is how I’m guessing she got into this situation in the first place, she no longer is. It’s always a relief making that realization and coming to a decision.

But it’s uncomfortable making that decision  while in the middle of an event and having no way out of it. 

I’ll probably learn more throughout the day of this pair as he loudly announces something and she corrects him. Dorian is watching her the way he watches me when we’re out.

I’d be jealous, but I’ve seen him look at other women like that. It’s a similar look to Nolan’s evil plotting.

Except whatever ideas are running through Dorian’s head, are not evil. And I’m the subject of his thoughts, I’m the one who will… suffer… later on.

Dreams are the Stuff of Inspiration 

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Last night while in Dorian’s arms, I dreamed of Nolan.

That takes a back story. 

Nolan is Dorian’s friend from the BDSM community. He is a full on sadist, but he’s also an arrogant asshole.

He is oh so gorgeous though. You know how some erotica and romance authors will describe their male MC’s as painfully beautiful, or some other weird description like that?

Nolan is one of those guys. He’s attractive to the point where you just can’t look at him. Because you can see it in his eyes as yours lock with his. He knows he’s attractive enough to turn a woman on with a glance, he knows you’re attracted to him like most women are, and he’s wondering if you’re willing to risk a tumble with a sadist to see if the rumours of his sexual prowess are true.

My…method… of dealing with Nolan actually drives him nuts. I know he’s out of my league, but he also doesn’t like women ignoring him. He has to be the centre of attention at all times. 

He doesn’t often speak to women. We’re objects to him, I suppose. 

The types of women he draws in are model hot, lithe little things that are either masochistic or willing to be pushed to their limits because they heard that sex with him is painfully delightful.

In short, most women would do anything to be his toy for a night.

And last night I dreamed of him. We were at Dorian’s in the dream and he got called into work. So Nolan and I saw Dorian out and I went back in to lock up. Nolan followed me and halfway into the apartment physically picked me up and took me to bed.

He kissed, he teased, and then my mind kind of did a double take and I pushed him away as he tried to continue. My whole body told me to submit even as the words came out of my mouth.

“No, it’s not fair to Dorian.”

And I woke up as he smiled that odd smile of his. The little lopsided, completely evil, obviously plotting your slow, tortuous, orgasm smile of his.

So I woke Dorian up in a panic. I was still caught half asleep and didn’t even remember it until this morning when he reminded me. But apparently I confessed to having just been with Nolan moments before and how he had done everything and I was taken for a moment but only a moment. He patted my head and told me that if I saw Nolan again before morning, I should take advantage of his attention.

Oh Dorian, you are so cruel. Because I immediately fell into the same dream and went through my usual day and at the end of it, found myself somehow alone with Nolan once more. 

Who pinned me down and kissed me so that I couldn’t protest verbally. 

I woke with the desire to write. Dorian denied me that right, asking me about my dreams and then basically ignoring me. Well, not ignoring me so much as ignoring the predicament my body put me into. 

He likes to tease, but once every couple of months I get to explore being dominant. That day is today…

Why does Nolan matter, you might ask? Why do you care about a sadist who doesn’t even know he drove me crazy in my dreams? 

Because Nolan was… kind of… only slightly, the inspiration for Mr. Wrightworth. Of course Nolan is purely heterosexual and the base is very light. Very, very light. 

Like I would only say it goes as far as the two being sadistic. I just don’t think Mr. Wrightworth would have ended up a sadist if I hadn’t met Nolan beforehand.

For the longest time I’ve not touched on this because… well, Nolan’s a little scary in a hot sort of way.

Then when we met up with Nolan for coffee this morning, Dorian filled him in by starting with the dream and going from there. 

Because that‘s not embarrassing. 

Though someone had to explain that shade of red I went when Nolan sat down.

I’m never going to live this down.

Vacation

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Tomorrow starts my week off. Dorian is coming back, which is really exciting for me, but the prospect of no writing or work is driving me crazy. What do I do with all my free time? Just stare at the wall?

Do you know how bare my walls are?

The last time I really looked around was a couple of weeks ago, when I started building my office. Once the desk is together, I’ll move the laptop and TV in there. I don’t entertain much, the office is really an extension of my bedroom so… yeah. I keep sitting at the desk and filling out the planner a bit.

Recently I’ve been writing up information for D.o.t.A. Most of the plot is kind of written out already, so I can just refer to that when re-writing.

I feel like Rachel needs to either shut up or change her view a bit. Goddamn it, woman, you grew up in that world. It’s not a surprise!

Today I sat down to try to pound out a couple of possible titles. The ones that are sticking out are actually just the names. Rachel and Morgan.

Which actually kind of explains why the second book doesn’t seem to have Rachel there a whole lot. It’s all about what Morgan is doing, for which Rachel can’t see most of it.

I like the premise of this world built males being the betters and in control, but out of the public eye, the males are trying to bring back the females of their kind because they crave women who can kick their asses.

Enter Rachel, who’s father was in the military and taught all his daughters how to fight. And of course Rachel, who is bitter and cranky, with a bunch of righteous anger directed at the Alphas.

“She hit me. I’m bruised! I almost passed out. Only reason I didn’t was because she’s a leftie and couldn’t get the angle right with how I was holding her.”

“You’re the moron who left yourself wide open to an attack.”

“Only because women never hit us. Now I’m all confused, maybe it was the blow to my head.”

Time Off is Important Too

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Beth and I try to make certain each of us takes time off. Even if it’s just a couple of hours. Back in February when I started setup,  Beth had been working two months straight. She had taken an hour here or there, but even while out, she was on and focused on her writing. 

It drove Dorian crazy. He likes all the attention focused on the conversation when he’s there. I swear Beth does it just to mess with him, but their friendship is like that. 

He pokes her, she pokes him. Like a big brother, little sister thing.

Anyhow, as of Saturday I’m off work for a week across my birthday. Thank goodness work was okay with that. I’m not exactly the most stable person on my birthday, which actually has little to do with getting older and more to do with having no family to rely on. 

An entire week, no writing. Whatever am I going to do with myself? 

I’ll be back to work July 31st, restarting a novel August 1st. Along with editing and combing through formatting on Taken and Broken.

I’m supposed to be walking all over next week. Exploring the city to keep myself busy. Dorian promises to keep me out of the apartment and busy the entire time (out of his apartment too,  we tried that last year and it didn’t work).

Exploring could be good for the creative flow. 

Everything Takes Longer Than Expected

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

When I talked to Dorian about my plan, he went ahead and told Beth that I was looking to set up a home office. Beth researched and did the math. How much it would cost to buy versus the frustration of building.

Apparently she had the same idea as me, probably for a while since she was the one who pointed out the free pallets to me.

We met up at the store Monday night. The lucky bum got a ride from work because she stayed late to help someone. We did kind of rush through the displays, because we both had a budget and the moment we walked in started oh-ing and ah-ing over the setups.

Then went back to my place where I polished off Contract Renewed some more and we both ate pizza. 

I’m not certain I’ll ever be happy with the book. But you should hear Beth go on about her published books never being good enough for any audience. 

I got my delivery early in the morning. Beth shortly after. I know because we texted each other. We get way too excited over new furniture.

The last three times I’ve had deliveries, it’s been the same team of guys. Very respectful, quick, and relatively clean. Just a little dusty because they’re moving dusty packages. 

When I opened the door there was no identifying marks and my first thought was, “shit.” Thankfully it was the delivery, but I whined at Beth about it.

An hour later I got a text, “You didn’t say the older one was drunk!”

Apparently we both had the same delivery guys. We proceeded to get in an argument because the company always calls afterwards to check and I was going to report it to the supervisor. So I ended up not hearing from her until she had put her desk together. It was the least expensive, while not looking like it was cheap, so we both got the same thing.

“How did you connect the desk top to the trestles?” 

“Dunno, just doing it now.”

We can’t figure it out. I contacted Dorian and he sighed and said he’d fix both desks when he got back. Just drilling some holes, but while I’m not great with measurements, if it’s off I’m going to go crazy. So I’ll leave it for the guy with a construction background. 

It took nine hours of work to paint the bookshelves. The paint remains tacky despite drying overnight. The air feels moist though, so that may be it. Even the thin first layer I did on the last piece of the second bookcase felt that way. The first piece of the first bookcase wasn’t tacky by the end of the nine hours so it must have to do with humidity.

Trixie: hopped onto the first piece, leaving paw prints all over it and the floor. Twice. I got non-toxic paint just in case. Surprisingly she let me put her on her back and wash her paws. 

She leapt onto the desk top, sitting on the trestles but not attached, and rolled all over the desktop. Claiming it as hers.

After I built the first bookshelf, she jumped onto it, almost taking it to the floor. It’s now attached to the wall. 

Jumped onto the drying side, leaving permanent kitty prints up it.

Used the trestles as an obstacle course. The trestles which are under a desk top not yet bolted down.

Used the boxes as toys, getting irritable when she couldn’t simply bat them around.

And finally, this morning attacked me when I had my mug in my hand, getting coffee on my new keyboard. 

I have an important meeting today at work. Thankfully the coffee missed me. 

It’s almost built though. Soon, I’ll have more space to work. The coffee mug will be to the side, where it never comes over the keyboard. 

And I’ll be able to get to work.

August 1st I’ll be restarting D.o.t.A. I still don’t have a title for the first one. I wish it were a simple matter. I know the full plot of the first one. I could do Cracked and Broken. As the first arc is at least two books. Or Self Discovery and maybe Self Destruction. 

I’ll have to really think on that. 

Knife Play is a ‘no’

Posted on by Aya DeAniege

Yesterday at work I somehow managed to get my little finger caught between a hard place and a sharp object, almost skinning the pad off. It’s the kind of incident that no one expects to happen. 

Which, in my experience, means I’ll be the one to do it to myself.

I’m fine, I should add. 

But afterwards everything got dopey and slow. Having been a part of that lifestyle for a while, I recognized the drop. If I had been playing, it would be called sub drop. Apparently it’s not my reaction to playing itself, but the crash after pain has been caused.

Interesting. Thankfully it was only a little drop.

Because Dorian is out of town until next Sunday. I don’t do well with a big drop and being by myself. Did that with my ex, when I had no idea what was going on. 

When I found out he did know what was going on and ignored me on purpose, I broke up with him. While shouting and throwing things and going on because I was still in the middle of it all.

Anyhow. 

When I got home all I wanted to do was curl up with a stuffie and be petted and kissed and taken care of. Recognizing what was going on, I ordered pizza (with the little brownie bites) gorged like Dorian never lets me (because his rules don’t apply when I’m weepy and on my own) and after two brownies found myself with Contract Renewed open on my laptop.

I got that last chapter done after four hours. It took my mind off the finger until I tried to save. Apparently the left little finger is used exclusively for ctrl+s. 

Also, apparently I went four hours without saving! Thank goodness I didn’t lose progress, or I’d really be in a bad spot.

I didn’t write the entire time either. No, I spent about half the time wrangling Trixie.

Off the laptop, away from the wireless keyboard, away from the mouse. Then away from markers when I took a short break to try to fill out the planner again. And off the planner, then away from the planner,  then to the scratching post because she seemed intent on digging her claws into everything.

I first tried petting and cuddling her, of course. That didn’t work.

So now I have leftover pizza, brownies and pop. I let Dorian know, mainly so that he doesn’t order pizza next week. 

Then only reason he restricts me is that if I’ve dropped and there’s pizza available,  I’ll eat until I’m in a food coma, then feel terribly lazy all the next day.

So, long story short, Contract Renewed is almost ready for the beta reader. I’m planning on starting over on D.o.t.A in August. Taking the last week of July off… 

And I really think Contract Taken could be up on Amazon as early as September. Just have to contact the cover designer.

On Tuesday I’m headed out to get my desk.

… and two bookshelves. I have zero, in my defence. Books are just laying around all over the place. Stuff ends up on the floor because I have nowhere to put it. It’s also hard to argue with that price. 

Oh, and I’m putting the shelves on either side of my mantle to keep Trixie off of it so that I can out the TV up there where she can’t reach it.

My only problem is that everything will be white, to fit in my budget, and I have a strong dislike of all furniture that is white. 

Sounds like I’ll need to spend a day getting crafty, which is fine. Once Contract Renewed is off to the beta, I could probably use a nice day off from all the things.