Interview with Guest Author
Grace R. Duncan
Real, erotic, forever...
Thank you for stopping over to visit, Grace. In case my lovely readers don’t know who are, I thought I’d do a little sit-down visit with you and help us all get to know you. Also, today is the two year anniversary of your debut novel, Choices. Can’t believe it’s been two years! Love Teman, Jasim, Bathasar, Nadir, Cyrus, and many of your other characters in the Golden Collar series, and cannot wait to dive into more.
When did you first consider yourself an author?
Grace: When I finally held my contract for Choices in my hand. I was getting paid for this thing! Then I started wondering if someone would figure out I was this great big pretender because… holy shit, I was an author! O.O
It’s the best feeling!
But, do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do to get past it?
Grace: All the damned time. I have a number of tactics I try. First is distraction—force myself to not write for a while. If that doesn’t work, I try a different story. If that doesn’t work, I find wailing, moaning, licking my palms, and tearing my hair…well, it doesn’t help the writer’s block, but it does make everyone else as miserable as me.
If your writing was translated, which would be your preference: TV, movie, play, or Broadway?
Grace: TV or movie I’d guess, though I know at least some of it would require porn. *laughs* I’ve often wondered if I could get a porn studio to consider my Golden Collar series. *grin* Ahem. That said, I usually have a dream cast in my head of at least the main characters for all my books.
Oh… now that’s an idea
Does your family know what you write, and if so, how did they react when you first told them what and how explicit your writing would be?
Grace: Yes. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone does. My husband reads it, helps critique it, even. The rest of them don’t want to touch it because, “ew, Mom! That’s sex and YOU wrote it!” Since I’ve been writing fanfiction for years—and it was as explicit as my original fiction is—it’s nothing they didn’t already expect.
Have you ever met someone in real life, or a stranger, that you turned into a MC?
Grace: *smirks* Well, now, I can’t say exactly, can I? In truth, most of the people I’ve met or know have or will end up in a book somewhere. For those I like, well, they get a happily ever after. For those I don’t… well, most of the time, I find creative ways to make them miserable or kill them.
Who is your favorite author and why?
Grace: Oh God, that’s… I don’t know that I have one. I suppose Tolkien is at the top, as is Stephen King. The problem is, I have favorites within a genre, but not necessarily overall. Tolkien and King are so different, you know? I love Tolkien’s world and King’s crazy scary ideas and Rowling’s magic and and and…
Boxers, briefs, commando? What’s your favorite way to “dress” your man?
Grace: Truthfully, he tells me. I try not to overdo anything, but if they both wear briefs, they do. I’ve known too many guys who wear (or don’t) each thing to ignore anything.
We already know you love to write in different genres, but why do you feel you share your voice best when writing amongst the different genres?
Grace: I’m writing in different ones because I like to explore different worlds, different focuses. My wolf shifters have a different goal than my pleasure slaves do. And both have different goals than my virus survivors do. I like being able to experiment a little, play in all sorts of places.
And just because I love to tease 😉 what are you working on now, and what is coming up from you next?
Grace: Wellllllll, I’m currently playing around on a cruise ship with a couple who forgot how to talk to each other. Everything sort of blew up on them when one panicked over kink and submission, but the other refused to give up. Despite a five year break, he’s determined to fix what was broken and now they’re trying to find their way back to each other.
My next novel coming up is due out in July. I’m really excited about this one. Contemporary BDSM entitled Turning His Life Around! Here’s the tentative blurb:
When Kane Harris’s world turns upside down, the only one to catch him is his lifelong best friend, Ian Kelly. Ian, who’s been in love with him for years, but has accepted that love will never be returned, knowing Kane believes himself incapable of it.
So Ian is willing to settle for what he can get–a best friend, roommate, sometime fuck-buddy, and occasional submissive. He’s already learned he can’t live without Kane, though he can’t let Kane know that, or the truth of his feelings because when, not if, Kane confirms his fears, he knows he wouldn’t be able to take it.
But when Kane loses his job and asks Ian to step up their play to help him deal, Ian realizes his ability to hide his feelings is quickly failing. And when Kane is given the opportunity to start his own computer security firm and wants Ian to join him, Ian struggles further. It’s not until they’re invited to the exclusive BDSM club, The Iron Door, however, that things come to a head. When Kane screws up big time, he’s afraid he won’t be able to fix it. And if he doesn’t figure out these confusing feelings, he’s sure he’ll lose his best friend, his Dom, his… everything forever.
And on that wonderful note, I thought I’d share a little from Choices. So sit back, relax, grab a drink, and enjoy!
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Golden Collar, book one
Historical M/M BDSM Romance
Cover Artist: Paul Richmond
Release Date: March 4, 2013
Length: 380 pages / Novel
Born and raised a gypsy in the late eleventh century, Teman values freedom over everything. He and his best friend, Jasim, are thieves for hire—until one night they’re caught and their precious freedom is revoked. Given the choice between the dungeons or palace pleasure slavery, they become slaves, but Teman vows to escape someday.
Bathasar doesn’t want the throne. He supports his brother instead, which suits their sadistic father, Mukesh. When Teman, the handsome slave Bathasar has secretly been watching, saves his life, Bathasar requests a slave for the first time. Before long, Bathasar and Teman fall in love. But all is not well. One day Mukesh brutalizes Teman before the court, angering the empress of a neighboring nation. To appease her, he then offers her Jasim as a gift, and Teman decides to stay with Bathasar for now—despite the abuse he may suffer.
The peace doesn’t last. Mukesh plans to invade Jasim’s new country, and Bathasar must find a way to stop the destruction. But if he succeeds, he’ll ascend to the throne and have the power to grant Teman his liberty. Then Teman will surely leave him. What other choice could a gypsy make?
The captain stood up and paced around them, taking his time looking them over. Teman wanted to squirm, fidget, or something, but he managed to resist, albeit with difficulty. He’d never liked being the center of attention, unlike Jasim, who happily took it on. Teman’s dislike of that kind of thing was partially what lured him into the shadows, deep hoods, and darker corners of the world.
“Even without the charge of attempted murder, you have reached your third chance,” the captain said, coming to a stop in front of them. “By our laws, I must punish you, and harshly. I have some leeway in what I choose,” he said, and Teman’s head snapped up in surprise. He caught Jasim’s start out of the corner of his eye, but he refused to look over, lest he give their eagerness away. “But only by so much,” the captain finished.
He turned around and walked across the room, out of their field of vision since neither dared move. The quiet of the large chamber was unnerving thanks to the fact that the soft slippers the captain wore made no sound as he walked, save the slight scrape of silk against marble. They waited impatiently for their sentence while they heard him move around, opening a cabinet and then closing its doors. They heard the sound of metal rattling, then the near-silent slippered steps as the man crossed the room again.
When he stood in front of them, he held four large rings in his hands. They were big enough to go around a man’s neck, and Teman stared at them for a moment, incomprehension clouding his mind. And then, as if a flame was put to wick, he realized what they were.
But that only succeeded in confusing him further. Because two of them were obvious—they were the heavy, blackened iron collars worn by the prisoners in the dungeons. He’d been lucky enough to never actually be down there, but he’d met a few men who’d gone and managed to escape. They’d told him plenty about it—including about the collars, cuffs, and shackles—which had only fed his determination to stay out of the place.
But the other two collars the captain held weren’t heavy iron. They were only a couple of inches wide, very thin and made of etched gold. They were hinged on one side, and on the other was a loop for a lock, with another ring below made to be hooked on to things.
And then it all clicked. Teman had heard the rumors regarding slaves the malik kept in his palace. Slavery was still a very common practice even within their own country of Neyem, though usually it was more along the lines of indentured servitude. And he’d never had it confirmed exactly what the palace slaves did, though the rumors were that they were pleasure slaves.
He’d had trouble believing it. The malik was so cold and looked so… untouchable that Teman couldn’t quite reconcile the idea of the man doing anything as warm and human as sex. Whether the malik was involved or not, the golden collar the captain was holding couldn’t be mistaken. It was most definitely a representation of palace servitude. But, what kind?
Teman looked from the collars up to the captain, raising his eyebrows. The captain met his eyes, then spoke. “I told you that I have some leeway in punishment. I have the right to toss you in the dungeon. But I think it would be a waste.” Teman wondered at the tone of voice. It seemed almost regretful at the idea of sending them down there, but Teman couldn’t figure out why this man would possibly care about them or what difference their fate would make to him.
“Instead I will offer you a choice,” the captain said, meeting first Teman’s eyes, then Jasim’s, before lifting the rings again. He held one of each type in each hand, and dropped them at their feet. “The gold collar is worn by palace slaves. You will lose your freedom one way or the other, but how you lose it is up to you.”
He turned, walked back to his chair and considered them carefully, then continued in a quiet voice. “The palace slaves are pleasure slaves. They serve the malik and the amirs, the masters and mistresses of the palace and their visitors. If you choose that, you are a slave. Your choice ends there. What they wish to do to or with you is entirely up to them. Your body will no longer belong to you; it will belong to them. When it comes to many things, you will no longer have free will.”
He paused to allow the words to sink in. Then he said simply, “Or you may take the other.”
Teman didn’t have to ask what the other was. It was a one-way trip to the dungeons and darkness, bare minimums on food, drink, and even air. And the near impossibility of escape. As a palace slave, he might well have a much better chance. He didn’t know if they were chained or locked up in any way, but he figured, one way or the other, there was a greater possibility of getting out. And, at the very least, it was likely to be better until he could try for freedom. He glanced over to see his best friend’s eyes fixed on the two collars on the floor. Jasim’s expression showed the confused jumble of thoughts that were undoubtedly mirrored on Teman’s own face.
He wanted to ask what being a pleasure slave really entailed, wanted to ask a million questions that crowded into his head, but he held his tongue. He knew enough about the alternative that, in the end, he didn’t think it really was much of a choice. He wasn’t sure why he hesitated. It wasn’t like he’d never had sex before. He’d done plenty with both genders. He’d never been attached, so that wasn’t an issue either.
And, in the end, the one thing that meant the most—his freedom—wasn’t an option either way.
His best friend looked over at him and met his eyes. Jasim nodded, Teman gave one in return, and together, they knelt down and picked up their fate.
Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age – many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.
A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children – both the human and furry kind.
As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.
Find & Follow Grace Online: