From Between the Sheets to Between the Covers 

I love discovering great BDSM fiction. I also love great BDSM. No doubt these two things have a lot in common, but in the M/M romance genre, it’s surprisingly difficult to find BDSM fiction written by folks who live—and thus thoroughly understand—the lifestyle. There’s nothing wrong with glitterkink, or an author experimenting with handcuffs and blindfolds and a spanking, but when I’m in the mood for some kink, I want to sink my teeth into an in-depth psychological exploration of Domination and submission, sadism and masochism, and how all those very complex and not-always-complementary parts fit together in a relationship.

I do so love reading books like that. And it seems the best of them come from authors who are writing what they know.

I recently co-authored a 90,000-word Kinkapalooza with beloved friend and fellow kinkster Cat Grant. In part this pairing worked so well because she’s a sub and I’m a Dom. We’re both lifestylers and have been for a good long while. She’s a reasonably hardcore masochist. I’m an unreasonably hardcore sadist She’s a reluctant—one might even say belligerent—submissive. I’m a demanding but nurturing Dom. While we never played together in real life, we talked extensively about our backgrounds and our experiences, and found a great many of them migrating onto the page.

Much of the psychology of Jonathan (our deeply sadistic Dom) and Brandon (our not-really-at-all masochistic closeted submissive) came out of our real-life experiences. Neither of them are perfect by any means. Jonathan is in many ways the kind of Dom I am. He gleefully inflicts pain, but never ever neglects thorough and loving aftercare. He doesn’t hang on trappings like titles (“Sir” or “Master”) or shouting, but he quietly commands total respect. He loves his cane, and cages, and breaking boys fresh. He makes mistakes and isn’t afraid to admit it or apologize when he does.