So I think I was expecting something like this….
And instead I got this…
Nah, just joking, it wasn't that bad, just nothing particularly special.
Adrian and Jason have been in a D/S relationship for 3 years. When Jason is stuck for a Christmas gift idea, he decides to book one night at a BDSM bed and breakfast for himself and Adrian.
Unfortunately the characters weren’t very fleshed out. I know that can be hard with novella’s, but since I have read novella’s with excellent character development, I’m starting to become less lenient with that as an excuse. Even their ‘pet names’ didn’t inspire any deeper feelings in me. Adrian calls Jason ‘slave boy’. I don’t know, I love slaves and I love it when a dom calls his sub ‘boy’, but ‘slave boy’ doesn’t feel like an endearment… more like a title.
This was all very pop culture BDSM. There's nipple clamps, plugs and a flogging, ‘sirs’ and kissing the whip, I felt it lacked uniqueness and passion. For a short story that felt like it was set up to revolve around a single scene, the scene in itself was quite short and nothing that I personally found particularly arousing. Also no fucking *insert sad face*, but it does make up for it by having a decent face-fucking scene.
Look, in the end my opinion is that there are NOT enough kinky christmas stories out there, and that's why this get 3 hearts and not 2. I will read this again at Christmas time, because it's short and kinky and that can make me overlook the issues I had with it.
Find out more info on Goodreads!
Purchase Links:
NineStar Press: http://ninestarpress.com/product/happy-christmas-sir-elizabeth-coldwell/
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Happy-Christmas-Sir-Elizabeth-Coldwell-ebook/dp/B018Q83T7S
Interested in learning about the book and author? Check it out below!
Author Bio
Elizabeth Coldwell is a multi-published author and the former editor of the UK edition
of Forum magazine, where she was responsible for publishing a number of now very
well-known authors for the first time, as well as honing her own writing.
She lives in East London, is a season ticket holder at Rotherham United, and a keen cook.
Her recipe for peanut butter brownies is available if you ask nicely…
Email: elizabeth_coldwell@yahoo.co.uk
Website: http://elizabethcoldwell.wordpress.com
Excerpt
©Copyright Elizabeth Coldwell 2015
All rights reserved.
“So, where exactly are you taking me?” Adrian asked.
Jason kept his eyes on the oncoming traffic as he waited to make a right turn. The snow had begun to fall while they were still on the motorway, and he’d had visions of the quieter country roads becoming impassable, forcing them to turn back. But they’d chosen to take Adrian’s Jeep, designed for the roughest terrain, and had reached the outskirts of the little village where The Hideaway was located without incident.
“I’ve told you,” he replied. “It’s a surprise.” He knew Adrian hated not being in control of the situation, and part of him hoped that keeping his master in the dark about their destination would earn him a suitable punishment. “But we’re almost there now.”
Snowflakes pattered at the windscreen. Jason turned the Jeep into a quiet lane, lined with high hedgerows on both sides. “After two hundred yards, turn left,” the mechanical voice of the satnav instructed him. Peering into the blizzard ahead, he slowed almost to a halt, searching for the turning. At last, he saw a wooden signpost with the words “THE HIDEAWAY” carved into it.
“Here we go,” Jason said. Beside him, Adrian radiated impatience, obviously keen to leave the vehicle so he could stretch his long legs.
“You have reached your destination,” the satnav confirmed.
From the outside, The Hideaway appeared unremarkable. Two storeys high, with white-painted walls and a thatched roof already heavy with snow. A light burned over the front door, its yellow glow welcoming in the evening gloom.
They took a moment to slip into their coats, even though they were parked right by the house. While Adrian went to fetch their overnight bags from the back of the Jeep, Jason rang the doorbell.
The man who opened the door a couple of moments later looked like any number of guys who hung out on the fetish scene—sturdily built, with greying hair shaved very close to the scalp and a thick silver tube in his left ear. A tribal tattoo, just visible beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt, decorated his right forearm.
Dom or sub? I’m guessing the latter.
“Hi, good evening.” The man smiled at him. “You found the place okay, then?”
“Yeah, no problems. I’m Jason.” He gestured to Adrian, who was walking towards the door with a holdall in each hand. Normally, Jason was expected to carry the luggage, and for a moment he revelled in this reversal of their usual roles. “And this is Adrian.”
“I’m Si. Nice to meet you both. But this isn’t a night for hanging around on the doorstep. Come inside.” He ushered them into the hallway.
As Si led them through to the kitchen, Jason picked up on a couple of clues that this wasn’t the average bed and breakfast establishment. They were subtle enough that they could be ignored by those not into the BDSM lifestyle, or written off as quirks of the owner’s taste, but they were there. A little teddy bear, dressed in an outfit of leather straps held together by silver rings, sat on a windowsill in the hallway. A charcoal drawing of a naked, kneeling woman with her hands tied behind her back hung on the wall. Jason recognised it as the work of a well-known London fetish artist, and he was pretty sure Adrian had, too.
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