Today I am so pleased to welcome Cin Forrester to Joyfully Jay. Cin has come to talk to us about her latest release, The Trouble with Trevor Off Limits. AND she is sharing a big reveal about her secret alter ego! Cin has also brought along a great giveaway! Please join me in giving her a big welcome!
Hi! Thank you Jay for setting the date for me. I’m so excited.
Can you keep a secret? Good. Because I can’t.
See, The Trouble with Trevor is Cin Forrester’s first book, but it’s not my first book. Cin is my new not-particularly-secret identity.
I was working on my 24th book for my other pen name and there was a lot of angst in it. I was crying on page ten. Stories have always been my escape, so my brain decided to give me something different to play with on the side. As the story downloaded to me from wherever those things come from, I started thinking, Oh, I can’t write that. It’s filthy. I love it, but it’s filthy. I don’t even think it’s fully romance. I don’t see an HEA for them for a long way out.
But I couldn’t stop hanging with my side piece. I gave it a file name, Dirty! Wrong! Hot! and snuck in a little time away from my main squeeze to get down the basics. Then it was too late. I was hooked.
The thing about being a writer, at least for me, is a need to be read. Sometimes I write something short, just for me, to help me sort out a feeling, but I write to be read. I wanted to share my new deliciously hot and wrong writing with other people. And get paid for it. That’s the other thing about being a writer. Nothing says I love you like sales.
K.A. has a brand. Yes, her stories are erotic, but the sex scenes are clearly moving the characters toward a commitment. This was kinky and hot but more because the characters were exploring their sexualities. Although I could tell the main characters would end up together, they were going to have sex with other people along the way. (No cheating, I promise). In fact, I saw that it was going to be a series of stories, each one moving them toward each other, but without the kind of resolution you want in a regular romance. One problem gets solved for them in the first book, but that just creates something harder to fix.
Once I knew I couldn’t release these stories under my regular pen name, I needed a new one. I played around with the formula for a “porn/stripper name”: Take your first pet and the name of the street where you grew up. The first part worked, and got me Cin from our dog Cinnamon, but the street name was weird to pronounce. After poking online (everything is online) I found another formula, one for pen names. Your last name is a favorite brand of alcohol. I love bourbon, and one of the brands is Old Forrester. Cin Forrester. That worked for me.
If you like my stuff as K.A. Mitchell, and you like things super steamy, you’ll probably really enjoy Cin Forrester. If you’re new to me, I can tell you that Cin is a different voice and flavor from my K.A. stuff, like a rum and coke instead of coke. You can have a taste in the excerpt.
I owe a huge thank you to Jay for letting me celebrate Cin’s new release here. I hope you’ll enjoy The Trouble with Trevor.
Read with a hand under the covers.
To be entered for a chance to win a free copy of The Trouble with Trevor, comment below with your favorite pet name and a favorite brand of liquor. Maybe you’ve got something going for you there!
Trevor experiences the consequences of breaking rules and things are pretty awkward.
“You’ve been doing better about leaving your crap around the house. But you can do better in here.” He stands and puts the chair back under the desk.
I’ve made the bed, sort of. The quilt hides the worst of the lumps.
He stalks over and scoops up some clothes on the floor next to the bed. “Like putting this in the laundry hamper.”
Oh God. I want to die. One of the socks in his hand is my go-to come rag. How can he not tell?
But he just says, “Will I see you for dinner tomorrow?”
Tomorrow’s Tuesday. My last class gets out at four ten, and I usually head home early on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
He’s standing in my doorway, holding the pile of clothes. I sneak a look at his face and figure out there a reason he’s asking beyond checking to see how much dinner to make. He’s trying to put things normal again, after he turned my ass into a hot, swollen bruise.
I’m not pissed at him. It’s not as if I didn’t ask for it in every possible sense.
“Yes, sir. I won’t be late.”
“I’m sure you won’t.” His lips soften a fraction in what passes for a Grady smile, then he leaves me alone.
I shut the door behind him. There’s an age-spotted mirror tacked up on the closet door. I run over and drop my briefs, craning my head around and twisting as I try to get a peek at my ass. After some Exorcist-like moves, I’m disappointed to see it pretty much looks the same as always. Reddened, but the color is fading to pink. No bruises.
I squeeze it. Still hurts, but not at all like when he was doing it. In fact, that squeeze I did just pumped life back into my dick. I push on the spot where he seemed to concentrate the spanks. It hurts in that good way again.
Oh shit. I am a total perv.
I go across the hall to brush my teeth. Grady comes in after a minute or two. He doesn’t knock, but then I didn’t have the bathroom door shut all the way. He slaps a bottle of lotion and a washcloth on the counter next to the sink, right in my line of view.
He taps the bottle. “Put the washcloth in the laundry more often than that sock.”
I’m frozen mid-spit, foamy toothpaste dripping off my chin. My eyes cut to the lotion, thinking about the smoother glide of my hand on my dick. At the same time, I’m totally freaking because Grady—whose dick I’m usually picturing when I jerk off—is the one giving me the suggestion. I know I didn’t invent masturbation, not even the various versions mine takes, but I can’t believe Grady, strict Catholic Marine drill sergeant, is kind of almost talking to me about it and giving me permission.
“Got it?” Grady forces my eyes to meet his in the mirror.
“Yes…” my butt feels hot and prickly and I add, “…sir.”
“Good.” Grady swats my ass as he leaves.
It wasn’t a hard spank, but it wakes up all the sensations under the skin. The warm sting, the way the heat and tingle translates to a rush of need in my dick. It takes a second for that to sink in, then I’m rinsing as fast as I can to get back across the hall to try out the lotion.
I’ve seen enough porn to know about lube, but I haven’t worked up the nerve to buy any for myself yet. The lotion has this tangy smell, not flowery or soapy. I lie on my back and put a good bit of the lotion on my hand and stroke my dick. God, yes, that’s nice.
Why haven’t I tried this before? So much better than spit. Thank you, Grady.
I push my ass into the bed, trying to milk every bit of that fading soreness, concentrating on how it had felt with his strength holding me, struggling against the pain, the sweetness of knowing I’m going to lose. He’s going to make me take it. Going to make me come.
My hand speeds up, dragging pleasure from my balls to the tip of my dick. A rise and drop, so close to that peak.
I grind my ass against the sheet and grab the washcloth. I wish he were still spanking me, his voice a stern growl in my ear. “Come now, Trevor.”
I do. I finish with a rough tug from the washcloth, pumping out long, shuddering blasts. My teeth sink deep into my lip to hold back the gasps and moans. It’s too short, that moment of perfect ecstasy, leaving me with just a come-soaked piece of terrycloth and a sore ass that’s a lot less exciting with my nuts drained.
My dick is oversensitive from that last rough contact with nubby cloth, my stomach lurching between guilt and loss.
I just wanted someone to touch me for real, someone who wanted to touch me. Am I so horribly revolting to use Grady like this if he doesn’t know I’m using him?
Like most other guys his age, Trevor Nash just wants to escape his small town, go to college and get laid. It’s not his fault his parents are freaked out because his older brother went to college and binge drank himself to death. Trevor’s not going to do that, but they won’t him go unless he stays with his godfather, Marine vet Grady McKinnon.
Grady’s come to appreciate a quiet life in Boston since an IED tore off his foot and forced his discharge, but he owes his oldest friend a lot. He agrees to the babysitting, provided Trevor sticks to a few basic rules.
It’s been five years since Trevor’s seen Grady, a long time in a teen’s life. Now Trevor is stunned to find out his muscled temporary guardian is a walking wet dream. Trevor has a new plan: get Grady’s attention, no matter how many rules he has to break to do it.
Warning: This book contains a pushy brat, a loner learning to like company, desperate longing and a lot of spanking.
Cin loves writing books that crank up the heat and the kink. Her stories are erotic with a big helping of romance. She writes about characters on erotic journeys, characters with forbidden passions. If you don’t like a lot of sex in your stories, her books are not for you. If you like your romance to get down and dirty, try one of Cin’s.
Cin has brought a copy of The Trouble With Trevor to give away to one lucky reader. And she would love to hear your favorite pet name and a favorite brand of liquor to make your own pen name! Leave a comment at the end of the post to enter. The contest ends on Wednesday, November 16th at 11:59 pm EST.
- By entering the giveaway, you’re confirming that you are at least 18 years old.
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