Interview with Amy J. Hawthorn
1. First Kiss
My personal first kiss was as clumsy and awkward as it was sweet. Fortunately we got better at it as we got older because I married the man who evolved from that teenage boy.
“Don’t you dare give up on finding what makes you happy. I promise you, it’s worth the wait….”
This line is spoken by Ember’s close friend who had the courage to take a risk in her own life. For her it paid off and she’d love nothing more than to see Ember happy and fulfilled.
At heart, I’m an optimist and dreamer. Always have been, always will be. I hate to think of anyone settling for mediocre. I know it’s hard, but I believe we owe it to ourselves to never give up and fight for what makes up happy.
Blurb from The Sub That Got Away
Dr. Ember Ross dedicated her life to caring for her patients, always putting her needs last—including her need for submission.
Royce Damron has everything he could want in life. The only thing he lacks? The perfect sub.
When mutual friends use a new BDSM dating site to set them up, a clueless Royce takes things one step further, intending to keep their encounter an anonymous one-night stand. Unaware the woman he’s spent years pining for waits beneath the hood he insisted she wear, will he miss the sub that got away?
Enjoy this excerpt from The Sub That Got Away by Amy J. Hawthorn
Standing in the bedroom of the hotel’s suite, Ember read over the instructions for the second time. A warm, not at all unpleasant, flush stole through her. She’d come this far. She wouldn’t let her fears take this from her.
Her Dom for the night waited in the other room. As she set her tote bag in the corner chair, she pondered the steps that brought her here. On an impulse, she’d given Beth the reins and let her friend do everything except fill out the preferences questionnaire. Her friend insisted that Ember at least do that part herself. A couple of days later Beth emailed her a set of directions from her prospective Dom. She’d looked them over and gave Beth the green light.
He’d instructed her to come to this hotel, this room and go immediately to the bedroom. There she’d find her next set of instructions.
He’d also insisted that they stay anonymous for their encounter.
She agreed. With no thanks to her schedule, she didn’t have the time to invest in a relationship. Not to mention, it wouldn’t be fair to her partner. Still, it didn’t mean she had to spend her nights alone.
Laying on the bed next to a black silk hood was a letter written in neat, bold handwriting. She was to strip down to nothing then put on the provided matching robe and hood.
How she needed this. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her top. Work had been brutal over the past month and a warm bath with even the best book wouldn’t rid her of the oppressive stress. She just needed a few hours to block out the world. A desperate, clawing need to be someone else, even for a short time, threatened to drag her down to her knees.
She removed her bra and freed her breasts. Already they felt heavy, hypersensitive. She slid down her pants, folded them then placed them on the chair with her things. Hooking her fingers in the waistband of her panties, she took a deep breath. She slid them down her legs and bared herself to the empty room. Though the temperature was comfortable—perfect, even—her nipples hardened. The thin silk of the robe whispered over her skin as she pulled it on. The soft material rasped over her beaded nipples and they tingled with excitement when she pulled the robe closed and tied the belt around her waist.
She twisted her long hair into a knot at her nape then pulled the hood over her head, blocking her vision. Dim light came through the soft fabric and the world became a fuzzy, muted place.
Taking the last instruction to heart, she stood facing the foot of the bed with her back to the door and waited. Anticipation made her alert, eager.
Long seconds ticked by.
Please let this be what I need. Hope beat a dangerous rhythm in her chest. Driven to the point of desperation, she didn’t know how she’d stand the disappointment if it didn’t work.
“Good girl.” Sounding quiet, a little rough, and all masculine, he whispered right into her ear. She hadn’t heard his approach and wondered how that could be possible. His warm presence bathed her five foot nine-inch frame. How could someone so large move so quietly?
“Since you followed my directions, we can get to business even faster.” She held her stance and waited. “Turn around, sub.”
Oh, that voice. The decadence hidden behind it alone just might make this worth it. She turned around. Before her stood a tall, broad, shadowy figure. She waited breathlessly for his next command, eager to hear him again.
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The Sub That Got Away by Amy J. Hawthorn
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