Here's an excerpt from the next book in the Eden's Garden series, Scissors & Fruit:

 

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So now here I am, laying on my back on his bed, still fully clothed, wrists and ankles tied to his four poster bed, leather blindfold on the nightstand, while he excuses himself from the room, telling me to relax, while I think to myself, 'I'm the psychiatrist, I'm the one who graduated top of her class from one of the best universities in the country. I'm the one who should be telling you to relax.'

 

That's how the fuck I got into this situation.

 

And then the doorbell rings. I strain against my restraints to lift myself from his bed, to see who's at the door, until the muscles burn in my abs, but I can't see a thing. There are voices, muffled, I think it's another man but I can't be sure. Then nothing, quiet, and I hear the door latch shut and the lights dim in the living room that we were in only a short while ago.

 

Mark comes back into the bedroom and again I lift, strain and feel my abs burn, trying and failing to sit upright. The bed posts are solid and do not creak at all.

 

"Who was that?"

 

"Sorry?" Mark gives me a quizzical look.

 

"Who was at the door?" Now I'm starting to get just a little pissed, not really at him, but at myself for letting me lose control of our situation. Mark stands over me, gazing at me as if I am a still life painting and not a living, breathing woman.

 

"Oh that! Nobody, just someone trying to find the neighbor. I told him where to go." He replies, almost absentmindedly.

 

I'm pretty sure he's lying to me. I can sense that there's somebody else in the living room, but I can't hear anything or see anything or smell anything, so maybe I'm wrong. After all, why would he lie to me? And what the fuck am I getting so nervous for, anyway?

 

That's when I notice a pair of scissors and a banana in his hand.

 

"What're those for?"

 

"They're for you. Why?"

 

"What're you going to do with them?" I ask, nervously, and there is the tiniest little quiver in my voice and I am angry that I am not in charge, and angrier still that the warmth in my groin is growing and moving downward to my sex, that he is managing to make me wet by intimidating me. I squirm on the bed, testing the rope that binds me and look at Mark, trying to appear defiant, to make him think that he is not in total control of me and my mind and my body. And my cunt.

 

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Grab your copy of Eden's Garden: Scissors & Fruit today!