Google+ Followers


Friday, February 20, 2015

Restraint Blog Tour

I am Katya Waters.
A survivor of violence.
I fought death and won.
So why do I feel so dead inside?

Katya Waters is a small-town girl, mentally unprepared to deal with her deep, dark past. While walking in her sanctuary, her innocence was torn from her in the most brutal fashion- run to the ground as if she were an animal by a pack of vicious Hunters. After they wounded her spirit, they left her for dead.

How does one overcome a debilitating, tragic event? By strength, perseverance, and an unrelenting will to survive.

Out of desire, Katya no longer wanted to be the hunted. She hungered to be the hunter.

Finally taking her life into her own hands, Katya reached for what she’d earned, for the respect every human being so rightfully deserves.

By moving to a new city for the job of her dreams, Katya unwittingly brought her past nightmares to life, slowly drawing the repressed, dark memories into the light. With a deep desire to explore her true nature, Katya entered the BDSM Club, Restraint; never realizing there would be no escape from her secrets within the club’s walls. Katya’s entire existence turned into a living, breathing, never-ending therapy session from Hell.

The Boss pulled Katya into a thrilling game of Kat & Mouse as a way to force Katya to accept the truth of her past. Follow Katya’s heartbreaking journey as she connected the mystery of her past with her thrilling present.

… As long as I have a tomorrow, I can endure today.

Add to Goodreads

Book 1
Buy Links

Now Available in Paperback

Cort’s Everlasting Wood

“Don’t pull Ezra’s psycho-babble out on me, Cort,” I warn. “I’ve cried enough on you guys’ shoulders, back when I was dumb enough to trust you. I was cold and smart, and then Ez manipulated me into feeling warm and safe again. I’m no longer that dipshit of a woman I’ve been for the past two months.”

Cort tries to be the voice of reason again. Scary thought. “Kat–”

But I cut him off. “I never lie down and wait for help that will never arrive. I won’t be passive. I take matters into my own hands and save myself. That’s what smart people do.”

“Smart people also recognize the person standing before them as someone who they can trust, someone who is only here because they want to help. A smart person knows when to ask for help instead of being stubborn. Maybe I should have Aaron tell you this shit, since I’m usually the one he smacks in the face with reality.”

“I don’t need your help right now. I need to regroup, to plan my next course of action,” I bite out.

“And out of everyone you know, who the fuck do you think is the best person for that job?” Cort snarls. “I’m a goddamned writer. Your writer.” Cortez gestures to his body, not only talking with his hands, but screaming with them. “I’m the motherfucking plot master! So let’s go plot, Kitten.”

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” I whisper.

“Trust this,” Cort breathes into my face, getting angrier with every word spoken. “I’ve been with Ez since birth, and he’s fucked me over time and time again. He’s left me feeling just as bereft, raw, betrayed, and wounded as you feel right now. Worse, actually. So trust that I want to punish Ezra more than you could ever imagine, even if I have to use you to do it. Trust that, Kitten.” My throat clenches– a remembrance of how far Cortez Abernathy is willing to go to teach Ezra a lesson, even if he has to use me to do it. That, I can trust.

No soft touches between us as Cort looks into my eyes, knowing the exact direction of my thoughts. He doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t shrug or nod. He doesn’t even smirk. He just keeps staring at me with blatant honesty and a need to seek his own vengeance, even if he has to use my pain as an excuse.

“Ezra never apologizes to you, does he? He never allows you to punish him, does he?”

“Never,” Cort breathes; eyes glossy, fists clenched. “Not once. Ez hits me where it hurts the most, using mental tactics I can’t avoid. The sick thing is, he doesn’t even realize he’s harming me in the process. The few times I’ve hurt him, it was nothing compared to the pain he’s dealt me. So, what’s the plan, Kitten? We both need this.”

Cortez looks at me as if he’s seeing me for the very first time. We’ve been around each other a few times, and I’ve never felt as if I ever really got to know him. Yes, being skull-fucked was enlightening. But reading Cortez Abernathy’s books had given me even more insight into him as a person. Of all the conversations we’ve held so far, this moment is the first time I’ve understood Cortez on a human level.

I look back at Cort as well, truly seeing him for the person he is, and liking what I see. Cort is my mirror image, more like me than anyone I’ve ever met.

Aaron is childlike in his pain. He’s severely loyal to Ezra, which is a detriment to his other relationships. I’m not discrediting him for it. I love him in spite of it. Aaron will always put Ezra above all others, no matter the consequences. Which means I can only trust Aaron if Ezra has my best interests at heart. My lack of trust in Ezra means Aaron’s loyalty is not a chance I’m willing to take.

Ezra reacts all right, but on his own terms. He is selfless because he takes care of Aaron and Cortez first, but selfish because he does it to punish himself. The air around him is permeated with self-hatred. Doesn’t Ezra realize he can’t truly love someone else if he can’t love himself? He’ll always doubt their love, because why should they love what he hates?

Ezra is a martyr.

Cortez sees to his needs and wants first. It sounds selfish, but it’s not. How can you help others if you can’t help yourself? You must be at your strongest to tackle what life throws in your path. You cannot allow someone else to leach your strength, to drain you, or else you can’t shoulder your own burdens, let alone someone else’s. Cortez doesn’t break. He doesn’t wallow in his pain. He knows he’s fucked up, and accepts that fact with open arms. His attitude allows him to accept everyone else despite their problems. It’s a simple way of living– ruthless and practical. I accept them all.

“Are you going to go take a shower and cry like a little bitch, or are you going to grow a pair and help me plot?” Cort challenges me, more so with his unflinching attitude than with his words. “You with me?”

“I’m with ya,” I utter, never breaking his stare. My mind forms our plan in an instant. “We’re going shopping, and then we’re setting up the dungeon. I need you to do a few things for me, like get people rounded up. This will go down in history as a phenomenal punishment.”

“You’re not really going to hurt Ezra, are you?” Cort looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, causing a wicked smirk to pull at my lips. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” he breathes out.

“Says the man who used me to punish Ezra. Yeah, I ain’t buying your bullshit, buddy,” I taunt as Cort chokes on a laugh. “Oh, Ezra will hurt, all right. Just not physically– much. We’re going to hurt him where it matters. Cerebral fuckage, Dr. Ezra Zeitler-style.”

“Just hearing that made me spring wood,” Cort sighs, eyes slipping shut as he shifts the growing bulge around in his pants with the heel of his palm. Groaning from the contact, I realize I better distract Cort before he fucks himself. He’s shameless enough to masturbate before me, of that I have little doubt.

Erica Chilson does not write in the 3rd person, wanting her readers to be her characters. Therefore, writing a bio about herself, is uncomfortable in the extreme.

Born, raised, and here to stay, the Wicked Writer is a stump-jumper, a ridge-runner. Hailing from North Central Pennsylvania, directly on the New York State border; she loves the changes in seasons, the humid air, all the mountainous forest, and the gloomy atmosphere.

Introverted, but not socially awkward, Erica prides herself on thinking first and filtering her speech. There are days she doesn’t speak at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that she lives with her parents, giving her a sense of reality, she would be a hermit, where the delivery man finds her months after expiration.

Reading was an escape, a way to leave a not-so pleasant reality behind. Reading lent Erica the courage she gathered from the characters between the pages to long for a different life. Writing was an instrument of change, evolving Erica into the woman she is today- a better, more mature, more at peace thinker.

Erica has a wicked mind, one she pours out into her creations. Her filter doesn’t allow all of it to erupt, much to her relief. Sarcastic, with a very dark, perverse sense of humor, Erica puts a bit of herself into every character she writes.

Connect with Erica

Facebook  ~  Twitter  ~  Website  ~  Goodreads
Google+  ~  Pinterest  ~  tsÅ«

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by

1 comment:

  1. Our belated thanks for hosting a stop on the Restraint Blog Tour.