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Monday, April 22, 2013

My Wicked Nanny by Ann Mayburn




Literary Nymphs Interview


Title: My Wicked Nanny, (Club Wicked, #2)
Author: Ann Mayburn                  
Publisher: Loose Id
Genre: Contemporary BDSM Romance
Release Date: April 2nd, 2013







What inspired the story?

My Wicked Nanny, book 2 in my Club Wicked series, is a fun and steamy story that plays with one of my favorite tropes, the older man/younger woman and boss/employee stories. You know, that fun and forbidden love between two people that shouldn’t be attracted to each other, but are helpless to resist. In My Wicked Nanny we get to meet Jesse, a widowed father of two young boys, and Anya, his young nanny. Anya gets a part time job at Club Wicked, an exclusive BDSM club outside of Washington DC, as a server, not knowing that her boss is also a member of the club. When she runs into him while working at Wicked, wearing a mask and scandalous outfit that is her work uniform, she is torn between throwing herself into his arms and running the other way as fast as she can.


EXCERPT:

  Anya took a deep breath, forcing air into her oxygen-starved lungs. Dressed in her scandalous outfit, complete now with an ultrathin, beaded mask that obscured the upper portion of her face, she at least looked the part of a server. And hopefully the mask helped to obscure the no doubt stunned expression as the first glimpse of the interior of the public bar left her overwhelmed.
Anya bumped into Sunny’s back, totally not paying attention to where she was going. The other woman turned around and caught her before she stumbled. “Oh, that’s right. This is your first time seeing it.”
Anya could only nod, speech beyond her. They were in a replica of The Hall of Mirrors in the Palace of Versailles. Arched ceilings painted with amazing frescos towered a story above them. The images were rather erotic. Rubenesque women cavorted in all manners of sexual play amid a beautiful sky. Anya took a step forward, and more of the room came into view. Immense windows looked out into an artfully lit garden, and enormous chandeliers dripped from overhead like frozen waterfalls of diamonds.
Sunny moved behind her and whispered into her ear, “Isn’t it amazing? All this lush decadence, but you’re missing the most marvelous thing of all. Look down and take a peek at how the top one percent likes to play.”
Anya kept her gaze on the ceiling, tracing the contours of the arches, the perfection of the design. “You don’t understand. I want to go spend a summer in France more than anything in the world. My grandmother is from Paris, and I grew up with stories of all the wonderful things over there, including this room. I take some of the inspiration for my costumes from the architecture and—”
Sunny laughed, her warm breath blowing across Anya’s ear. “Dove, look down.”
She did, and when she got an eyeful of what was happening right in front of her, she gasped. While half of Anya’s face was covered by some amazing silver foam that conformed to her every expression like it was painted on, she was sure from the chest up her skin was a nice tomato red.
Sunny sauntered in front of her and leaned against the edge of the black marble bar top separating them from the crowd. She rested on her elbow, looking elegant and sophisticated. She wore a golden mask fashioned like the sun and set with thousands of tiny golden crystals covering the surface. “And this is the public bar. The bars further into the club are more worse…and much better.”
Forcing a breath into her frozen lungs, Anya took a hesitant step forward, the silver bells around each of her ankles tinkling. Her gaze remained fastened on a totally nude man approaching them. “But he’s naked.”
She didn’t like how her voice sounded breathless, but for the love of all things holy, a man with a very large erection was being led past them with a leash attached to a ring around his cock. Some pretty brunette was walking a man, like a dog, by his dick.
Anya couldn’t believe she’d seen that, even as she followed his progress through the room. No one else seemed to be shocked, and when the woman stopped to talk to an older lady with her hair in a tight bun, the older woman fondled his butt like she had every right. Even more confusing, the man with a leash on his dick looked pleased.
“But…naked.”
“Hmm? Oh yes. Earlier tonight the club Dommes had their monthly meeting. We’ll have a nice amount of male eye candy to drool over.”
“But…naked.”
Anya didn’t want to sound like a fool—well, any more than she already did—so she didn’t tell Sunny she’d only had sex once with the lights on and even then hadn’t really gotten a good look at her partner. Most of her sexual encounters had taken place in the shadows, where she didn’t have to show her body. While in the dark, men seemed to prefer soft and squishy like herself, in the light they wanted the stick-thin supermodel. Now she could see all she’d felt, and it was mind-blowing. No pictures or Web sites could have prepared her for the overwhelming experience of being here.
Her brief training in BDSM provided by Wicked certainly hadn’t.
Then again, how the heck could you prepare anyone for something like this?
The atmosphere was raw, filled with an undercurrent of sex. Before entering this room, she would have found that idea silly, but here, with the energy humming against her, she couldn’t deny the sensual appeal of so many people enjoying themselves carnally.

Where can we find your website?
http://www.annmayburn.com
You can find me at:

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