I’d like to welcome Justine Elyot onto my web site today to tell you about her new release By His Command.

It’s lovely to be here with Nano today, with news of my new novella from Mischief Books, By His Command.

The story is a sequel to His House of Submission, which came out last year and featured the blossoming D/s relationship of film director Jasper Jay and his historian lover, Sarah Wells.

By His Command sees the relationship deepening and negotiating some of the challenges thrown up by trying to live a D/s relationship in the real world. Here’s the blurb:

Sarah and Jasper Jay are back for more kinky fun. But this time will it lead to a commitment that reaches beyond mere games of passion? The sequel to Justine Elyot’s bestselling His House of Submission.

Sarah’s new job as a costumed guide at a Victorian museum suddenly becomes more tense when Jasper Jay, her lover and master, appears without warning. Jasper is scouting the museum for a film about the sexual misbehaviour of 19th Century lords and the women in their service. A cover story that will allow him to indulge their private fantasy life in authentic surroundings.

Beyond the risky role play, under the eyes of Sarah’s colleagues, Jasper’s presence also puts him within reach of Sarah’s family who know nothing of her secret relationship with the world famous film director. But such a dangerous proximity to her family threatens to spoil their fun while forcing Jasper to think seriously about their future.

Is this just all a game after a crazy summer fling, or will it free them from their respective pasts?

Still unconvinced? How about trying an excerpt?

In the Victorian master bedroom, I sat down – against the rules, but I was a bit beyond caring – in the frilly flouncy pink armchair by the dressing table.

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, the smell of old fabrics and mothballs calming my senses. I loved this room. I even loved its name. ‘Victorian master bedroom’. It reminded me of Jasper and the heady, intense summer we had shared.

Jasper Jay. My lover, my master, my addiction.

But he had stayed inFrancewhile I came back here to take up my new job at the museum.

He would be wrapping up filming any time now and there would be parties, perhaps on the beach in Nice where we had spent three glorious September weeks. What a different world that had been, waking up in the villa at whatever hour of the morning, wound up in sheets, Jasper already at the set hours before. I would mooch and eat fruit and drink sparkling water and swim in the pool and wait for him.

He was always worth waiting for.

I got up and toyed with some of the items on the dresser. I picked up the heavy silver-backed hairbrush and thought of Jasper brushing my hair with it. Or perhaps he would find another use…no, scratch that. He would definitely find another use for it. My bottom clenched at the mere thought.

I picked up the cut-glass perfume bottle and squeezed the tasselled bulb, spraying lily-of-the-valley scent on to my wrist. Not hundreds of years old – we refilled the bottle on a weekly basis. Jasper smelled of Russian leather and spices. To fill my nostrils with that again…oh, just the memory of it sent me back to the chair, my knees shaky with sensual longing.

When would I hear from him again?

After I left France, we had Skyped several times a day in the first week, then the frequency had declined a little more, bit by bit, until now the last communication was some days ago. I’d made allowances for the mad dash to wrap up filming on schedule – after all, he’d already had to factor in one serious delay when his star broke his leg – but even so…four days.

I should be glad of the opportunity to experience life as a Victorian girl would, having to wait for the post to hear news of her sweetheart. How awful it must have been for them, especially with lovers and husbands at the front of some war. It was pathetic of me to pine over four days without a Skype call or text. Honestly, Sarah. Get a grip.

I could hear the others’ chat and laughter, muffled, from downstairs, then the doorbell jangled.

I opened my eyes. We didn’t have any other parties booked in, as far as I knew, until well after lunch. Had the office staff forgotten to add one?

Rob answered the door. I couldn’t quite make out what he said but it was something to do with the next performance being at three.

The responding male voice made me shoot to my feet. It sounded like…

I heard my name mentioned.

I had to grab hold of the chair arm.

Guess who!? Haha.

If you’d like to give it a try, By His Command is available here:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/By-His-Command-Justine-Elyot-ebook/dp/B00I2GZRM0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1395836986&sr=8-1&keywords=justine+elyot+by+his+command

And, for the back story, here’s His House of Submission:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/His-House-Submission-Justine-Elyot-ebook/dp/B009N7JF66/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1395837157&sr=8-1&keywords=justine+elyot+his+house+of+submission

 

 

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