Friday, August 14, 2015
Swords, Lasers, and Rockety Science Guest Blog with Cari Silverwood
I confess. I’m possibly a geek. I like science fiction even without the sex. I like fantasy too, where women get to dress up in leather and chain mail to battle dragons and funny critters with ten legs and bad breath. Doesn’t mean I don’t also love tales about dominant men.
The Gor series by ye olde John Norman was on my shelf, once upon a time. That stiffly written series of books was full of Earth women made slave girls on another planet by barbarians with chiseled jaws and chiseled abs.
So all that above, and my kinky ways, explain why I wrote the Preyfinders series.
In Defiler, and the previous two books, there’s a galaxy-obliterating war going on. Four Earth women seem the only ones who can finish this war, though it may cost every person on our planet their lives.
This is an erotic series as well as an action-crazy space opera. Talia, sword-swishing Earth woman crossed with forensic pathologist, has the extreme hots for two aliens – Brask, the Igrakk warrior and Dassenze, the man-god in the flesh. It’s a little kinky and a whole lot orgasmic. To paraphrase a popular Scotland-set movie, they may give her orgasms, but they will never take her freeeeedom.
The Preyfinders do have a history of making slaves they call pets out of lesser races, but that is not where this series goes. I loved the idea of perverting the usual slave-in-lust-with-her-master trope, or tweaking it a lot, at any rate. If anything, it’s the Earth women who can, potentially, kick the most butts, while their alpha men are their very enthusiastic cheer squad.
You could think of Preyfinders as a dirty and depraved Star Wars, but it’s not that clean, there are far less robots, and none of those Darth thingies. You could call it Resident Evil with sex, but there is little horror and again, dammit, with the kinky sex. I guess I should’ve called it Star Evil, started with Book three, and worked my way backward, that way the anal sex might be less painful.
So here goes, take a deep breath, dear reader, relax, and use lots of lube while you’re fighting (off) those aliens in Defiler.
Genre: erotic scifi/ fantasy
Publisher: Cari Silverwood
Date of Publication: July 28th, 2015
Number of pages: 156
Word Count: 77,000
Cover Artist: Cari Silverwood
Our Earth is on the edge of destruction, our cities are pocked with missile craters, and beneath the surface the alien factory queen lurks.
Four women of power may be our saviors. The last is Talia. Gifted by earth magic with a mastery of edged weapons, she’s a katana-wielding, geek chick with a loathing of alpha men. Although mating enhances magic, she knows bonding with aliens must surely be wrong. Besides, her destined bond mate, Brask, is an Igrakk warrior of the caveman persuasion. One dominant male is bad enough. Dassenze, the alien man-god in the flesh, also desires her and no isn’t a word he appreciates.
As they near their target, Talia’s man problems become the lesser of many evils, for the factory queen awaits them with her nerve chewers and her drills. The price for being avenging, kickass heroines could be a messy death.
Warning: Dominance and submission themes, hot aliens, and violence. Mild horror too if you're squeamish.
Talia approached the door, chair in hand, feeling like a lion tamer, and wedged the chair against the door knob. It worked in the movies.
“Go away! I’ll come and see you after I’m done. To talk about whatever it is you want to talk about.”
“If you’re there, on the other side, you can let me in.”
He was going to wait for her to let him in? Ho hum and yawn.
“No, I cannot. Asshole.” She said that to herself as she backed away, grinning. There was a thrill to calling Brask bad names, akin to poking a monkey with a stick. A big, slightly-annoyed monkey.
His sigh sounded exasperated. “Do you have any idea how good my hearing is? Or whatever this other sense is. I can tell when you’re aroused.”
She snorted. “Tough.”
His next move was to smash his fist through the door, sending splinters flying, then he shoved aside the chair and opened the door from the inside.
“Damn,” she muttered. “Impressive.”
Running on ceilings was impressive too but this was a whole other realm – a man who would smash down a door to get to her.
Scary as hell.
Keeping her expression defiant was difficult. She found herself cycling between a smirk and an oh-shit-what-have-I-done expression. Fear had some plusses. Excitement for one. He wouldn’t hurt her and she wasn’t going to hurt him, but her heart was pounding away like it wasn’t sure.
Now she had an annoyed Brask on her side of the door. He kicked it farther open and took a step inside as the handle hit the wall and the door swung back in a foot.
“I see you’re ready for me. Nice underwear.”
Breathless, she gathered her reply. “I wasn’t expecting guests. Maybe you should leave?”
“I only just arrived. But if you insist.” But then he stepped closer, until she had to tilt her head back farther to keep the encounter eye-to-eye. Between the width of his shoulders, general body bulk, and the way his blond spiky hair seemed ready to brush the ceiling, he was making her feel like a small female snack.
Never look away from a predator, right? On shuffling back a step, she found the coffee table pressing at her bare legs.
Insolently and probably stupidly, she angled a brow. “Leaving means going in the other direction.”
He crowded her some more until only inches separated them and she could feel his body heat. She didn’t dare shut her eyes. She was faster than him, but that wasn’t everything. Not at all. But he didn’t lunge at her, instead he very deliberately reached out and around her, with both hands, and took a grip of the back of her hair. Then he screwed both hands in and twisted, thoroughly trapping her.
Something stopped her resisting. Probably raw unadulterated lust. She licked her lips, waiting. When he remained silent, she couldn’t resist asking a question.
“Now what are you going to do? My hairstyle?”
About the Author:
Cari Silverwood is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of BDSM stories and dark erotic fiction.
Cari Silverwood is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of kinky darkness or sometimes of dark kinkiness, depending on her moods and the amount of time she's spent staring into the night. She has an ornery nature as well as a lethal curiosity that makes her want to upend plots and see what falls out when you shake them.
When others are writing bad men doing bad things, you may find her writing good men who accidentally on purpose fall into the abyss and come out with their morals twisted in knots.
This might be because she comes from the land down under, Australia, or it could be her excessive consumption of wine.
Freaking out readers is her first love and her second love is freaking out the people living in her books. Her favorite hobby is convincing people she has a basement...though she really doesn’t. Promise.
If it existed it would be a terrifying place where you would find all the dangerous things that you never knew you craved.
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