Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to answer a few questions for us at FAR. We appreciate all the hard work you portray in your work.

What are you working on right now?

Two Projects right now. With the Dragon Prince having been released I am currently working on the gaming world of Erien.

Also working on a new BDSM based story. Following on from Winters Sweet Kiss I’ll be taking Danielle and Jack to England primarily to follow the story of a local man made good. However their trip will lead them to a training house, and Danielle to the feet of a Mistress who has set her sights on Jack.

Who is your favorite author?

Not sure I can list just one. David Eddings, Jennifer Roberson, Mercedes Lackey, Katherine Kerr all rate amongst some of my must buy list.

What is something personal that you believe your readers would like to know about you?

.. I’m Insane, no wait, you already know that about me. I’m a long time romantic, I treasure the love letters and notes my husband still leaves for me. I’ll take a daisy from the garden over a bouquet from a florist any day.

What is your best quality as a writer?

I’m not afraid to try new things.

What is your worse?

Very self critical about my work and still can’t believe people enjoy it.

Do you believe in writers block?

Yes and no. I’ve written through it just by cursing a blank page.

Do you have a job besides being an author? What is it?

I’m a wife and mother. Still believe being a mother is the most important job in the world, so I’m a little old fashioned that way.

As a child growing up who was your biggest hero?

Lol, I’d say George Lucas as he opened up the door to science fiction and fantasy for me.

What did you want to be when you grew up?

An Actress. I actually did do close to seven years training and amateur work on stage.

Who is your favorite character?

The Cluiun in Dragon Prince, but then he is based on my husband.

Do your characters talk to you as you write? What do they say?

? Oh yes and some of them swear at me. Mostly they demand more time and one, Prince Rhodan, wants his own book signing. Orent, his dragon, keeps him in line most of the time though.

What is the biggest misconception about being an author?

For erotica, that would have to be that we must sleep around and engage in cyber all the time in order to write sex scenes. In general, that we earn small fortunes for each book.

What is the worse part about being an author?

Mistress Muse waking me up at x hours of day and night.

The best?

I can have multiple personalities and people accept it as normal lol

Could you please share some of your work with us?

This is the short story, ‘Without Eyes’, one of the pieces in Short Spices.

Without Eyes

He was there, she just couldn’t be sure exactly where abouts. Since the soft blindfold had been snugly tied into place, he had gone out of his way to refrain from making a sound. Leaving her ears straining for the slightest clue to his location and possible actions. Yet all she had found was the old fashioned clock keeping pace with her heartbeat.

Where was he?

Soft rope encircled both her wrists, keeping them apart, stretched, bound to the bed posts. The same rope restrained her ankles, pressing them carefully together, before securing them at the bottom of the bed.

As with all of his choices of late, the rope had been chosen publicly, with care, as part of his game. Something that would restrain, control, yes, even caress. She had been with him when he had purchased it, her cheeks sent into fresh flames each time a new possibility had been looped about both wrists. Curious looks from the shoppers walking past replaced by the knowing shy smile from one woman now burned into her memory.

All part of his enjoyment. A slow build up over hours, sometimes even days. Just as he was doing now. Letting the tension mount within her ,until he was ready to play with his favourite toy.

She hated the wait, loved it, craved it. Wanted to scream, demand that he begin, that he stop being so cruel. Though even if she had found a way to make her voice work the way she wished, a part of her doubted it would have helped.

It was a moment before she realized the whimper had emanated from her own mouth. Leaving her blinking behind the inky blackness.

Payment for the noise came swiftly, burning cold onto a nipple already hard from anticipation. Before the shock had fully registered, searing droplets rained down across her other breast. Brushing over the nipple, sending her into a hissing gasp. Hands clenching, writhing, trying to avoid the touch of the melting ice cube.

Water rolled down her breasts, tickling as they traveled, until she realized she had once again lost track of him.

Why did she let him do this to her. Let him encourage the craving that had found its release in him. The more they played, the more she craved, till each day without his sensual torture became hellish. Was she damned, condemned to this from now on. Needing this?

Cool air blew across the damp skin, adding fresh shivers to the growing feverish sensations. His low chuckle sounding so very close to her ear, the words barely more than a whisper. "You twist so nicely…"

Ice brushed against her lips, parting them. Cold swapped for fire as his own lips covered hers, tongue demanding entrance. Finger tips locked against a nipple, pinching, tearing a gasping cry from her, eagerly swallowed by his kiss.

Lips and fingers left her body, leaving her arching upwards, seeking.

The soft creak gave away his movement from the bed, knowledge allowing her to relax against the cotton sheet, even as her hear outraced the clock.

Where they back to playing his waiting game?

Cord moved smoothly over skin.

"Unable to remain still … wondering are you… wishing perhaps..?"

Tips dipped across her stomach, moving in slow downwards circles, delving into the soft close cropped hair. Smoothing them down, almost touching, to then return to the top of that carefully trimmed damp triangle. Refraining from seeking the growing source of heat. Triggering the thrust of hips against his hand, pressing, trying to sway his choice. Ankles pulling against the cord, wanting to part them, but his knots held firm.

Had she really expected them not to?

"Not yet, remember, I say when." The pleased smile sounded through his words as she moaned softly in disappointment. Thighs clenching, as her hips reluctantly returned to lower back to the sheet. How he must have loved the play of emotions across her face.

The first light tap just above the heated split of her mound made her frown beneath the cover of the blindfold. What was he doing?

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Slow as water dripping from a faucet.

Curiosity faded, replaced by subtle tremors. Each tap reverberating through to her hidden clit.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Steady, slow, hips twitched upwards as her clit began to throb in time to the insistent taps, aching for him to delve, brush just once between pleading thighs.

Light touches, brushes, taps, all the while her body craving more, expecting something firmer. Leaving skin tingling, nerves aware of each breath that touched her flesh.

"Do you really need more, … or is that just your minds assumption?" His other hand simply rested gently on her thigh, as the taps continued, firmer now. A little faster. Sending the jolts continuously through her clit to spark deep within her clenching walls.

Warm air caressed across her breasts, blown gently from the very lips she ached to touch her flesh directly. Shivers merged with tremors. Each tap bringing fresh waves, new clenches, the growing dampness between thighs that squirmed together. He wouldn’t make her cum this way. He couldn’t… could he?

"Oh, but I can." Had she spoken aloud, that he could reply, or was it just so very obvious to him.

They where speeding up, barely enough for most to notice, but painfully obvious to her. An demand clear in that fingers beat.

Lips parted, as her body writhed slowly in the rope.

Heat beat matching with the pulse from the finger tip, hips rocked now, little point in her trying to fight the tide. Not now her mind had begun to accept what he wanted.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Firmer, faster.

Hips pressed upwards, pleading.

A low moan, as sweat beaded, salt on her lips.

"Almost, patience can be a wonderful thing, with its own rewards."

Gods, she wanted more, needed it now.

Thighs burned, tensed, locked. Hands clenched into fists.

No, not like this.

He wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t he stop?

"Now…"

She didn’t want to, but her body was no longer listening to any call but his.

The cry was torn from behind clenched teeth, her body arching, pressing upwards. Thighs slick with heated wetness. Still he tapped, bringing her higher until spots of light danced under the darkness of the cloth.

Then, nothing.

He stopped, letting her breath once more.

Blood rushed in her ears, leaving her blinking unseen.

"Rest, we can start again in a little while."

More, surely he didn’t mean that…

Thank you for being here and for answering our questions. If you would like to find out more about Terri Pray please visit her website at http://www.terripray.com/

Interviewed By:
Ruby