An amazing leader of the spanking fic community, Cara Bristol, answers Emily's questions!

I frankly don't know whether to give top billing to Cara Bristol's quickly-becoming-classic works of spanking fiction or to her incredible leadership in places like the "Spanking Fiction" community on Facebook. Cara is one of a handful of ne plus ultra writers for me--spanking writers who have made it in their own slice(s) of the genre (see The Rod and Cane Society, not to mention her new Breeder series, from which she's sharing the second book this morning) but who have stuck around to help the writers coming in after them. Writers like Cara seem to me to have rejected the old zero-sum model of success in favor of a compelling vision of a spanking fiction market that just keeps growing. "Why wouldn't it?" Cara seems to be saying. "Look what we've done so far."

Why do you write?

I write because I am hardwired to express myself through the written word. If I didn’t write erotic romance, I would still write something. Even before I could write a story, I still wrote. At six years old when I was learning to read, I would make lists of all the words I knew how to spell. I wrote my first “novel” as a class assignment when I was ten. I enjoyed writing school term papers, became a news reporter, and later went into public relations, but fiction, particularly romance, satisfies me in a way that no other writing has.

What's your desert-island fantasy? (If you were marooned on a desert-island with only a single fantasy to get off to for the rest of your life, what would you choose?)

Well, my first fantasy would be to get off the island! I’m pragmatic that way. How about I’m stuck on the island with a fully loaded Kindle? No, that wouldn’t work—the battery wouldn’t last. So….I’m stranded with a strong, sexy hunk who would protect me and see to my every need. And we stumble upon an abandoned village where the natives had had a hedonistic lifestyle…

Do you think of BDSM and/or spankophilia as a practice or as an orientation, or as something else, and what does your answer mean to you?

I think it varies from person to person and to different degrees. For some, BDSM/Spankophilia (like writing!) is hardwired into their makeup. Whether a result of nature, or some sort of imprinting on their brain at early age, Dominance/submission or spankophilia has become a core part of their personality. And for others, it can be something they “play” at without a serious orientation.

Who's a favorite character from your own work, and why?

Marlix, the Alpha Commander hero of Terran, is a favorite. He has a reputation for ruthlessness, but there is an innocence to him, a boyishness that contrasts with an uber masculinity. He’s strong and fierce, but proves himself to be flexible and accommodating. He makes mistakes, but he owns up to them. He does things he never imagined he would do in pursuit of the heroine.

Who's a favorite character from someone else's work (erotic or non-erotic) and why?

Val Rios from The Point of it All by Jade Cary. He has the machismo thing going on, but he is so protective and chivalrous toward the heroine. He has great presence. Sexy as hell.

Here's the blurb of Terran!

After fleeing heartache on Terra, Tara Diehl has adjusted to male-dominated Parseon better than most vendors until she is kidnapped by Alpha Marlix, a ruling commander. At first her tall, muscled abductor terrifies her, especially when he doesn’t hesitate to quell her struggle for freedom with some force. When her attempts to escape fail, she decides to seduce her way to freedom.

But out of seduction and subterfuge grow a true intimacy that cause Marlix and Tara to take action that drives Parseon to the brink of civil war, threatening not only their relationship, but also their lives.

Terran, the second book in the Breeder sci-fi series, is a “capture” romance involving a domineering but hunky alien, a female with a bad dye job and an even worse attitude, hot sex, and spanking.

And an excerpt!

If people gawked, she did not notice. Panic blinded Tara to all but instinct as she tore through the Bazaar. Suck it up. Suck it up. Sobs of relief convulsed in her throat when her feet found their way to her shop. Perched on a counter stool eating lunch, Ramon leaped to his feet as she stumbled in.

“My God, Tara! What the hell happened?” He grabbed a bolt of flannel off its stand and threw it around her, then hugged her to his chest.

Unable to stop crying, she heaved and shuddered as Ramon rocked her and swore under his breath.

“I th-thought it w-would be o-o-okay. I only went out-outside to check.”

Ramon stiffened.

“They grabbed me,” she sobbed.

“They?”

“Th-three males.”

“Fuck,” he swore, his voice laden with concern. He did not need to say I-told-you-so to remind Tara how foolish she’d been. “We need to call Security. The Terran Embassy.”

She shook her head. “No.” The Terrans held little authority and couldn’t do anything. Parseon Security did have power but would do nothing. Nor could she endure an interrogation by males cut from the same cloth as her attackers. Parseon did not consider sexual assault a crime but rather a sport, which was why the treaty attempted to protect its female vendors by insisting they travel with an escort. By venturing into the Market alone, she had disobeyed the rules intended to protect her.

“Yes. My God, Tara, you were attacked.” He dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Did they rape you?”

“No,” she lied. She squeezed her eyes shut against Ramon’s shoulder. She’d been pinned to the ground. They had sodomized her with their fingers—they just hadn’t gotten around to the rest of it, because the Commander had intervened. She recalled his growl, his shadow. The boot on her back had lifted, and her attacker had flown through the air. She’d heard a thud and a snap, and then the pounding of feet as the other two attackers had scrambled away.

Only Alpha remained. Though he’d saved her, the rage and intent to harm that enlarged his already huge body had terrified her, and she’d fled, as much from him as the attack.

“You’re bleeding,” Ramon said, and she became aware of searing pain in her legs, back, and chest. They’d cut her when they had sliced at her clothing and had pummeled her with their fists and feet. “You need medical attention. I’m calling Security.”

“No!” came a gravelly shout.

Ramon started, but Tara did not. Hadn’t she known all along he would follow her?

“I will handle this.” There was no mistaking the threat in the gaze the Alpha cast upon Ramon. “Leave us.”

A brave Ramon shook his head. “No, I’m staying.”

Aggression shimmered off the Commander in waves. Ramon was wiry but little match for most men on Terra, let alone an Alpha. She had little doubt how he would fare in a confrontation. Again, she pictured her attacker sailing through the air as if the Commander had thrown a stuffed toy and not a live adult male.

She opened her mouth to reassure her shop mate she would be okay, but before she could speak, the Commander yanked her out of Ramon’s protective embrace and slung her over his shoulder. The Alpha stalked out of her shop into the Bazaar.

She could hear Ramon yelling.

Shock and fear paralyzed her. Hard sinew and bone shifted beneath her abdomen as the Commander carried her as if her weight posed no burden. She stared at the moving ground. His arm across her thighs immobilized her legs. The flannel with which Ramon had covered her trussed her arms. Tara found her voice. “Let me go! Where are you taking me?” Had he saved her only to rape her himself? Along with amusement and derision, there’d been lust in his eyes during their fabric transaction.

The Commander ignored her.

Tara worked her arms free of the flannel and punched at his legs. “Put me down, now!”

He growled and struck her ass hard three times.

She hit him again.

He retaliated.

For every blow she landed against him, he tripled with his own.

“Help! Somebody, please help,” she screamed, knowing it was in vain. Not a single person had come to her rescue during the attack by the betas, and no one would oppose an Alpha. Parseons would not, and though shock registered on the faces of her fellow vendors, the Commander moved too swiftly for them to do anything—if they had dared. Her fear rising, Tara began to cry.

Before she knew it, they had exited the Bazaar, left the Market, and boarded the sky tram.

And all the links you'll need to find and enjoy Cara's writings!

Amazon Buy Link

Author website

Facebook

Twitter

Author Amazon Page