“You’ll Never Believe…” with Tiffany Reisz

Welcome to the seventh installment of “You’ll Never Believe…”

For those that don’t know what these new featurettes will be about, here is the scoop! “You’ll Never Believe…” will feature the weirdest questions or encounters that authors have been asked/had. Might be about their books or random things, like meetings in a bathroom where someone asked what brand of toilet paper they normally use. Fun stuff and inside scoops that an author would not normally share.

And to celebrate the release of “The King: The Original Sinners Book 6” we have THE TIFFANY REISZ sharing with us today!!! *squeeeeee!!* I know SO many in our crew LOVE LOVE LOVE her Original Sinners series and you’re going to love her inside scoop! It made me *snort*!!! 😛

The Corrections By Tiffany Reisz

You’ll never believe the weird rumors that get started when you write Catholic erotica. Okay, so Catholic erotica isn’t a thing, but I’m trying to make it a thing. My Original Sinners series combines sex, kink, true love, sadism, humor, and Catholic theology. I’m Catholic. Trust me, it all fits. Anyway, not only am I Catholic and an erotica writer, but I attended seminary for a couple years. Now the seminary I attended was a conservative Methodist seminary in the south where I was getting a dual-Master’s degree in theology and biblical studies. When my writing started to go somewhere I dropped out of school, got a job, and focused on my novels. When my first book, THE SIREN, was coming out, my publisher hired a very nice publicist to help with the book launch. This publicist, not being Catholic, got “seminary” confused with “religious order” and sent out a press release that THE SIREN was authored by a former nun.

I am not a former nun. Or a current nun. A correction was quickly sent out.

A few weeks later an interview I did for Cosmopolitan UK started making the rounds online. A tweet broadcasting the article declared that the author, Tiffany Reisz, was a professional dominatrix. While I have paid good money to Dominatrixes in the pursuit of verisimilitude in my books, I am not a professional dominatrix. I’m just friends with a bunch of them. A correction was quickly issued.

So now I can say I am the only author on earth whose publicist had to send out the following correction:

Tiffany Reisz is neither a former nun nor a professional dominatrix. Please update your records.

LOL!!!!

Ready for the excerpt?

Excerpt:

“King?” came a woman’s voice behind Kingsley. Without looking back he raised his hand and beckoned her inside. A beautiful young woman in a forties-style skirt and blouse stood next to his chair and waited.

He wrapped an arm around her hips and dragged her down to his lap.

“You’re interrupting,” he said to her. “Can’t you see how busy I am?”

“Oh, forgive me. I didn’t mean to interrupt your,” she glanced down at the table and back into Kingsley’s eyes, “card game?”

Kingsley pointed at Søren.

“Blaise, I would like you to meet my oldest and dearest friend…” he paused and looked at Søren when he realized he didn’t know if he was allowed to tell anyone Søren’s name. Out in the world he’d gone by the name his father had given him—Marcus Stearns. Even now he was Father Marcus Stearns, SJ according to church records. Søren was the name his mother had given him and few called him that. “Who the hell are you again?”

Søren stretched out his hand and took Blaise’s.

“Søren. Kingsley and I went to school together.”

“I’m Blaise,” she said and gave Søren her brightest smile and the most unapologetic bedroom eyes Kingsley had ever seen. So unfair. Why did Søren always turn every head in the room? Kingsley looked at Søren who today wore normal clothes. Normal? Black jeans, a fitted black long-sleeve t-shirt. They’d be normal clothes on anyone but Søren. In them, Søren looked like something out of a fever dream. He couldn’t blame Blaise for looking at Søren the way she did.

But he did wonder why Søren looked at her the same way.

“Blaise, might I inquire what you’re doing interrupting this incredibly important card game of mine?”

“Against my better judgment, I answered the phone and took a message for you. But don’t get any ideas that I’m your new secretary although you need to get a new secretary-”

“I will, chouchou. I promise.”

“You said that last week.”

“I got a new secretary last week.”

“Where is she?”

“She quit.”

“Did you f**k her?”

“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

Blaise turned her attention back to Søren.

“Can you please tell your oldest and dearest friend to stop seducing his secretaries so they’ll stop quitting on him when they catch him f**king someone else?”

“Kingsley,” Søren said, shuffling the cards again. “Stop seducing your secretaries so they’ll stop quitting on you.”

“Thank you.” Blaise gave Søren a smile.

“My pleasure,” Søren said. Kingsley mentally slapped them both.

“Give me the message,” Kingsley said, running his hand up her thigh and caressing the bare skin above her flesh-tone stockings.

Blaise reached into her nearly translucent pale pink blouse and produced a folded note from inside her lace-trimmed bra.

Kingsley unfolded the note, still warm from her body and read.

Tonight at nine. – Phoebe

Kingsley tensed when he read the words and briefly considered lying his way out of the situation. She’d understand if he had to reschedule. He did have a guest after all. But no, he needed the leverage. He couldn’t risk losing this chance.

“I have to go,” Kingsley said to Blaise and Søren. “I won’t be gone long—an hour or so. You’ll keep my guest company, won’t you?” he asked Blaise.

“Happily.” Her thousand-watt smile brightened a few more watts. With her on his lap he could feel the heat emanating between her legs.

“Good. You two have so much in common, so much to talk about. Blaise, tell Søren what you do.”

“I run a non-profit,” she said, leaning forward on the table and resting her chin on her hand. The move allowed everyone in the room to get a much clearer view of her soft, ample cleavage.

“A non-profit?” Søren continued shuffling the cards while never once looking away from Blaise.

“Tell him what it does.” Kingsley pinched her on the thigh and she shuddered in pleasure. “Our Blaise is trés altruistic.”

“It’s called Slut Pride. We’re a non-profit that helps educate people about women’s sexual freedom, especially in regards to women’s participation in BDSM activities. Some people like to tell us that it’s not feminist to like to get flogged. I say it’s not feminist to tell a woman what she can and can’t do. Enough about me. What do you do?” she asked Søren.

“I’m a Catholic priest.”

Blaise said nothing. She gawked at Søren with her full red-lipped mouth ajar. And then she laughed, a warm throaty laugh that filled the room.

“You’re terrible. I almost believed you.”

Søren winked at Kingsley. Kingsley had never guessed Søren had this flirtatious side to him. Back in their school days Søren had been feared and envied by all the other boys and Søren had almost never spoken to anyone but the other priests. Kingsley realized that other than his sister, he’d never seen Søren around a beautiful woman before. Interesting. The man was human after all. Even if he was a priest.

“I must be off. You two chat, become friends. Blaise, peut-être you should explain BDSM to my friend. I’m sure he’ll find it fascinating.”

“I’m sure I will,” Søren said. “We’ll be fine, Kingsley. Have a lovely evening.”

Kingsley patted Blaise’s shapely bottom and she stood up and let him out. On his way from the dining room he heard Blaise asking Søren, “So what do you really do?”

And Søren replied, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Tiffany Reisz is the author of the internationally bestselling and award-winning Original Sinners series for Mira Books (Harlequin/Mills & Boon). Tiffany’s books inhabit a sexy shadowy world where romance, erotica and literature meet and do immoral and possibly illegal things to each other. She describes her genre as “literary friction,” a term she stole from her main character, who gets in trouble almost as often as the author herself.

She lives in Portland, Oregon. If she couldn’t write, she would die.

Social Media:

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• https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19233301-the-king?from_search=true