The Subs Club by @jarockauthor virtual tour | Spotlight, Excerpt & COMMENT Giveaway { @RiptideBooks | @TTCBooksandmore }

Hi! I’m J.A. Rock, and right now I’m touring the internet talking about my latest release The Subs Club—Book 1 in The Subs Club series. Thanks so much to the blogs that are hosting me on this tour, and be sure to leave comments on the tour posts for a chance to win your choice of two backlist ebooks and a $10 Amazon gift card!

About The Subs Club (The Subs Club #1)

A year ago, my best friend Hal died at the hands of an incompetent “dom.” So I started the Subs Club, a private blog where submissives can review doms and call out the douche bags.

A perfect example of the kind of arrogant asshole I mean? The Disciplinarian. He has a pornstache. He loves meat, stoicism, America, and real discipline. And he thinks subs exist to serve him.

But . . . not everything about him is awful. His Davy Crockett act just seems like a cover for his fear of intimacy, and part of me wants to show him it’s okay to get close to people. And, I mean, sue me, but I have fantasized about real discipline. Not role-play, but like, Dave, you’re gonna be thirty in four years and you still work in a mall; get your ass in gear or I’ll spank it.

Not that I’d ever trust anyone with that kind of control.

I’m gonna redefine “battle of wills” for the Disciplinarian. Or I’m gonna bone him. It’s hard to say.

—Dave

Buy links: Riptide Publishing | Amazon  

About The Subs Club Universe

After the death of their friend Hal at the hands of an irresponsible dom, submissive friends Dave, Kamen, Miles, and Gould band together to form the Subs Club—an organization seeking to expose dangerous local doms. The club slowly evolves as romances blossom, loyalties are tested, and tensions mount in a community already struggling for unity in the wake of Hal’s death.

From domestic discipline to knife play to fashion paraphilia, and from family drama to new jobs to first loves, the members of the Subs Club explore life’s kinks inside and outside of the bedroom as they attempt to let go of the past and move forward.

Excerpt: 

Chapter One

Skrillex was blaring when Miles, Kamen, Gould, and I walked into Riddle—one of two BDSM clubs in the city, and the only one we bothered hanging out at anymore. Riddle’s owners had a real hard-on for dubstep. Even tonight, at the Kink by Candlelight party, which had the potential to be a wonderfully atmospheric event if someone would just swap the violent sub-bass for some monastic chanting or Vivaldi. Or Enya. Bitches love Enya.

The place was already packed. The couches were full, so we had to stand. Most people weren’t even using the changing area; they just peeled off their street clothes there in the lounge and put on their harnesses and corsets and . . . capes? Yep, someone was definitely wearing a cape. Candles had been set up in the three playrooms as well as the lounge, and we were just waiting for the DMs to light them and turn off the overheads so we could get to the fun. Or at least what I hoped would be fun, though I was already starting to doubt it.

At the very least we might get to see a cape catch fire.

I glanced at the entrance to Tranquility, then made myself look away. Checked out the dry bar instead.

There was a guy standing at the end of the bar, rocking a glass-bottled root beer. In his forties, probably. Big-boned, a little paunchy even. Fucking pornstache, which normally would have been a deal breaker, but his was combined with some additional rugged facial hair that mitigated the situation. And he was mountain man-ish enough that the ’stache seemed not only right, but also necessary. His face was wide, his jaw square, and he wore his light-brown hair in an uneven crew cut. I was digging the long-sleeved polo, jeans, and loafers in a yeah, daddy kind of way. He caught me staring, and his pornstache twitched slightly. Then he turned away with a vigorous sniff, rubbing under his nose with one finger. He seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. He looked up again. Made eye contact.

What da fuck, Pornstache?

“It’s been seriously forever since we were all here together,” Kamen said over the music. I turned away from Burt Reynolds Stars in Boogie Nights and faced my friends.

“Uh, yeah.” I scratched my neck, which was inexplicably warm. I’d never met a mustache that made me feel this way. “I know.”

It wasn’t the first time we’d come to Riddle since Hal, but it was the first time we’d attended an event, and the first time we’d wordlessly committed to trying to enjoy ourselves. I felt responsible for how the night went, like an enthusiastic dad overseeing a lame family vacation. I’d hustled everyone into the car this evening and sung along too loudly to the radio and pointed out a new special on the Golden Corral billboard as we’d driven by. But now that we were here, my gaze kept finding Tranquility’s doorway, and I could tell Gould was having the same problem. So I focused on the other attendees.

Read the entire excerpt and learn more about this book, series and the author at Riptide Publishing.

J.A. Rock is the author of queer romance and suspense novels, including BY HIS RULES, TAKE THE LONG WAY HOME, and, with Lisa Henry, THE GOOD BOY and WHEN ALL THE WORLD SLEEPS. She holds an MFA in creative writing from the University of Alabama and a BA in theater from Case Western Reserve University. J.A. also writes queer fiction and essays under the name Jill Smith. Raised in Ohio and West Virginia, she now lives in Chicago with her dog, Professor Anne Studebaker.

Website: www.jarockauthor.com
Blog: http://jarockauthor.blogspot.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jarockauthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ja.rock.39

To celebrate the release of The Subs Club, J.A. Rock is giving away two titles from her backlist and a $10 Amazon gift card! Your first comment at each stop on this tour enters you in the drawing. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on December 12, 2015. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. Entries. Follow the tour for more opportunities to enter the giveaway! Don’t forget to leave your email or method of contact so Riptide can reach you if you win! No email/contact... No Prize!