She’s baaaaack! Yes, Megan
Michaels returns to WWW with another HOT one.
This time he’s Russian, a whip master and a chef. What a combination!
Megan: Maddie, thank
you for having me on with my new book, My Russian Master. You and I keep having books out at the same
time. You’re doing amazing!!!
Maddie: As is your new one!
And, we do seem to be in sync.
You turned out historical westerns a day apart, now we’ve both got a
contemporary erotic BDSM neck and neck.
Too funny. If your birthday is at
the end of September, we’ve got to compare genealogy. J Can you
tell me a bit about your book?
Megan: This book was born out of my love for a spanking site
and wondering what would happen if you were able to meet the Russian man
wielding the whip or belt. And that’s
how Maxim Volkov was born—the Russian Fitness Chef who is also a whip master
and videographer.
I didn’t anticipate that Caroline would have an eating
disorder, but it fell into place when she decided she wanted to lose weight. It
isn't the focal point of the book, I kept it as much as I could in the
background, but I do want to warn everyone that I've been told certain parts
can be a trigger. But I've also been told that it wasn't so harsh they
had to stop reading, and that the love and happily ever after made it worth
reading.
Maddie: It sounds like
a roller coaster ride, hot, sexy, poignant and moving. I can’t wait.
Let’s get started.
Sometimes the road to happily-ever-after began with two simple
words: “Yes, Sir.”
For CEO Caroline Turner certain truths were inescapable. No
matter how powerful, successful, and pretty she was, it didn’t matter when it
came to the number on her scale -- a number she wasn’t at all happy with. Like
every other obstacle in her life though, she had a plan for overcoming it. The
famous Maxim Volkov chef and fitness expert wasn’t cheap, and he wasn’t exactly
falling in line with her wishes either, but he was perfect for the job … and
extremely easy on the eyes. However alpha and devastatingly handsome the
taciturn Russian might, he seemed to have a different understanding about who
the boss was in their particular arrangement. She’d just have to put him in his
place… and try to ignore the insane urge to kneel at his feet.
Taking the job offered by the spoiled, if intriguing American
CEO was something Maxim wouldn’t normally do. He didn’t need the money, and he
usually found Western women trying at best, maddening at worst. But something
about the pretty Caroline spoke to him, her defiance, and acid-tongued ways
hiding an appealing vulnerability he longed to bring to the fore. Despite her
self-image, he saw little wrong with the curvy, brunette blonde beauty. Nothing
wrong that is that couldn’t be cured with a little strict, bare bottom
discipline, and some loving, sensual aftercare. That the appealingly
disobedient, mouthy American woman would surrender to him was never in doubt.
The only question was when.
But behind Caroline’s strong, professional facade, something
else lurked, a part of her painful past that threatened to endanger her future
-- and perhaps her life. Hiding his own potentially explosive secrets, Maxim
must help her finally put that dark chapter behind her -- no matter what it
took, no matter how much she might fight it, no matter how much it hurt. Worse,
hated competitors, circling like sharks, threatened to destroy all that
Caroline had worked so hard to create.
Struggling with demons both internal and external, her last,
best hope might just be a man as hard and implacable as a Siberian winter...
Publisher’s Warning: Intended for mature audiences. 18 and
over only! This sensuous romance contains explicit sexual situations, spanking,
and anal play. This book deals with eating disorders and could be a trigger for
some. This book can be read as a standalone. Enjoyment of the novel will be
enhanced by reading the previous entries in the series, but it’s not necessary.
“We will be weighing you next week. It has been four weeks
since we started. I know you feel the clothes are fitting different. I see a
change in your body; eating clean and working out has helped you tone up.” He
broke the bread apart, spreading butter on it.
She’d pass on the bread — and definitely the butter. Just
hearing that she’d be weighed next week sent her into a panic. She wanted to
lose so much weight, so fast. She needed to show Derek that she’d lost weight —
and that her Russian Fitness Chef had been worth the money.
“Bread?” He held up the plate.
“No. I don’t want any. Shouldn’t we avoid bread and butter?
And why are we having pasta for dinner?”
He put the bread down, staring at her with his head tilted as if
confused by her words. “What is wrong, Lena? Why are you worried about carbs?”
“Nothing. No reason. I just always heard that to lose weight
you were to have no sugar, no carbs, and no fat.” She toyed with her soup,
rather than actually eating it.
“Lena, we’ve discussed this before. I know in your college
days you struggled with bulimia and anorexia. I don’t want any of the losing
weight to trigger these behaviors for you. Are you wrestling with eating
disorder issues?” Maxim put his spoon down on the plate, leaning forward. “I
know that Avery helped you overcome it. Do you feel that it is coming back? I
need you to be honest with me.”
“N-no. I’m fine. I just want to eat the way I’m supposed to,
and I wondered why we aren’t cutting out some of the things I listed. Th-that’s
all.” She avoided eye contact, picking out the chunks of mushrooms in her soup
and piling them on her plate.
That is until she felt his forefinger under her chin, raising
her head up, forcing her to gaze into those dark eyes.
“That’s why you hired me, no? I will make sure you are eating right. Caro, do not
lie to me on this. As I’ve said before, the whip is for good girls. But if
anorexia or bulimia has you again, and you do not tell me? I swear that whip
will be used on you as a bad girl. Clear?”
She swallowed. That wasn’t something she even wanted to think
about. His belt had been more than enough. She shifted in her chair, gasping as
her bottom rubbed against the polished wood, reminding her once again that
she’d been sitting at the table half naked. Her clit throbbed, and her juices
let down, pooling between the tight seam of her labia. She had indeed been
struggling and now that she knew she’d be weighed next week, her mind was
already running a list of things she’d do to assure that she would lose more
than anyone expected.
“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “I understand.”
“Nyet! Do not roll your eyes. Rude. Very rude.”
“I’m sorry.” She wondered again if she should confess that she
was grappling with this and toying with the idea of embracing anorexia and
bulimia once more.
“I’ve got you on this. I know just how to tone you up without
you getting ill. But the emotional issues I can’t guess on. I can only assure
you and support you.”
“I’ll… let you know.” How would she share this? This issue
that had plagued her off and on for ten years, the disorder that she thought
she’d fought and conquered, appeared to be creeping back into her life. How
would she tell him? How do you explain that you desire to feel the hunger
pains, that you want to go to sleep hearing your stomach growl? The need for
control. The need to be in charge of every last detail of what you allow inside
your body — or the forced expulsion of internal contents from your body. It
wasn’t a topic that a woman just discussed with anybody.
But if she didn’t tell him, she’d be breaking his trust. She’d
given a promise to let him know. Maybe he wouldn’t find out though? Perhaps
she’d be able to lose this weight without him having a clue as to her methods.
Maxim rose, getting the still-warm pasta from the microwave
and bringing her the bowl. It was too much food, especially if she was being
weighed tomorrow. She didn’t want to have all those carbs in her body.
“Can I just have another bowl of soup instead?” She pushed it
back from her spot.
“No. You will eat this.” He sat down, folding his hands in his
lap, watching her. “Lena, talk to me.”
“Maxim, there’s nothing to discuss. I just don’t want pasta.
Do I have to have it for dinner?”
Her anger started to rise, and she was dangerously close to
losing control of her emotions. Weight had always done this to her; she’d find
comfort and pacify herself with food, not caring about the consequences. And
then, further down the road, when she became sick of her heaviness, she’d get
emotionally unbalanced, and as a consequence, over restrict her food, dropping
her caloric intake to dangerous levels. She’d even resort to using laxatives
and appetite suppressants to excess, until her weight would drop again.
She needed — and wanted — to be placed on a scale, to know how
she’d been progressing. Sometimes she’d check it several times a day, obsessing
over each ounce gained, her spirits soaring or plummeting with each
fluctuation. She found herself trying to be proactive by taking any measures
necessary to ensure that her weight would be down the next day.
She knew without a shred of a doubt that she’d be taking
actions everyday this coming week to make sure she had drastically decreased.
Derek and Maxim would both see her mettle, and they’d know that once she set
her mind to something, nothing stopped her.
“Of course, you don’t have to eat pasta. I just want you to
have a balanced meal, but if you would like more soup, more soup you get. No
worries. No anger.” He stood up, picking up her bowl, waiting for her to make
eye contact. “I do not demand that you eat the dinner I place in front of you.
But, as your dominant, I will blister your ass if you hurt yourself with food,
yes?”
She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
Maddie’s Intimate Authors Corner
Today, I’m doing things a little different in the corner. Usually we have a fun interview, but the sensitive
subject matter of Megan’s book we both feel cannot go unaddressed.
Although My Russian Master is a work of fiction, eating
disorders are a very real and serious problem. Because both Megan and I
have been impacted by eating disorders personally in our lives, we wanted to
share some important information on where to look to get help.
Here are some surprising statistics from the National
Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders:
- Almost 50% of people with eating disorders meet
the criteria for depression.
- Only 1 in 10 men and women with eating disorders
receive treatment, and only 35% of people that receive treatment for eating
disorders get treatment at a specialized facility for eating disorders.
- Up to 30 million people of all ages and genders
suffer from an eating disorder (anorexia, bulimia and binge eating disorder) in
the U.S.
- Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate
of any mental illness.
- The body
type portrayed in advertising as the ideal is possessed naturally by only 5% of
American females
- 81% of 10
year olds are afraid of being fat
There is help out there for you or a loved one suffering from
an eating disorder. It's rarely easy taking that first step, and denial is
a gigantic hurdle that has to be tackled, but treatment is crucial. For
more information on treatment and support, visit one of these links:
My unofficial blurb:
