In the past, Ms Ford has crafted some exceptional stories with jagged hearts. She wrote of pseudo-incest (Uncle Ed's Lap - my review can be found here) before that term was even circulating. And well before the Paypal furore of a year or so ago.
With Sin Alley, once again she's waving her wonderful word-smithing wand at material that many erotic authors would avoid. The first story in the series, "Gamble's Whip", features a main character with Multiple Sclerosis.
I've heard readers and writers alike voice their opinions against this style of writing. That erotica and erotic romance should be pure escapism. And I certainly can't say they're wrong for feeling that way. I don't mind a little escapism myself.
But what I love – really love – in erotica, is a story that grips me, that makes me feel desperate and hopeful for the characters, for their situation and even for their future beyond THE END.
Without fail, Parker Ford delivers that sensation for me. And this series certainly carries on that tradition.
Well, that's probably enough rabbiting on from me. Here is all the pertinent information. Enjoy!
MS has changed Sadie’s sex life. Her husband often can’t orgasm, but he still finds pleasure and wants her to have her own. Telling her that is one thing, convincing her is another. Davis’s wish for Sadie—for her birthday and otherwise—is pleasure. So Davis gives her something they’ve joked about for years. A trip down Sin Alley. Where you can find whatever your sexual craving may be. Including a man with a whip. Will Davis convince Sadie to give up her guilt and accept his gift?
Warnings: This title contains explicit sex, masturbation, whipping, corporal punishment, BDSM, cuckolding, sex for pay, and the release of inhibitions.
Excerpt for Gamble’s Whip by Parker Ford:
Blue neon. That was all she seemed to be able to focus on. As they made their way down the alley, damp and shiny in the way alleys always seemed to be even if the weather’s been dry, she blinked her eyes around blue neon.
They passed the doorways, lit from inside with the kind of glow that made Sadie think of Christmas.
He was half-way down on the right…
Half-way down on the right was a stool by a roll up garage door. The stool was empty. Sadie’s heart dropped. “I don’t think—”
Davis put his mouth to her ear. “I told you I made an appointment.” He tugged her forward by her wrist and pressed the buzzer by the regular door located at the far edge of the building. There was a returned buzz and then the click of the door unlatching. Davis took her hand, curling his fingers with hers this time, and led her into the garage.
Inside was that glow. Soft yellow light that directly contrasted with the cold, blue, darkness of the alley outside.
The man was standing in the very back of the large space over what appeared to be a workbench. There were Saint Andrew crosses and benches, a gymnastic horse and various other benches, chaises and trunks. Each seemed to be fitted with some kind of strapping system for containment.
Sadie’s mouth went dry.
“You don’t have to be restrained if you don’t want to, “Davis said softly. “I asked.”
She nodded once and tried to ignore her natural instinct to flee.
Inside the garage it was chilly. It might be California, but December was December and it often brought a chill no matter where you lived. As they approached, for the man had waved them forward casually without looking back, she saw small blow heaters set up here and there. When they finally entered the area that contained the bondage furniture items and the heaters, a warmth could be felt.
Davis, who usually took charge, didn’t speak. He waited. Finally, the man turned and eyed them up. He smiled and Sadie saw he had a pleasant face when he smiled. Not nearly as intimidating as when he sat, unflinching and straight faced on a stool cradling a whip. A whip he now held coiled in his right hand.
The sight of it sped up her heart and a brazen rush of fluid escaped her already thumping pussy. Her insides clutched in anticipation of pleasure and pain. Her mind already reeling from the intense jolt of adrenaline she felt when he turned to face them.
“Hello. I’m Gamble.” He nodded and then turned to face them. Instead of advancing, he leaned back against the work bench with a nonchalance that Sadie knew could never be practiced or learned. It was the simplistic act of a person one hundred percent comfortable in his own skin.
“Davis and this,” Davis replied. He pushed her forward just enough to make her cheeks heat with blush. “This is Sadie.”
Gamble reached out to shake Davis’s hand but not hers. All he did with Sadie was take his big hand and run it down her arm. In the wake of his touch her skin prickled and pebbled. A phantom shiver shook Sadie and she couldn’t manage not to quiver from it. Gamble laughed softly, watching her. Then: “We’re going to have fun, Sadie. But you need to tell me your word.”
Who is Parker Ford?
Parker Ford lives on the road more often than not. When she's not cruising a highway or taking a plane to some new place, she lives in a small house with her better half. She's the author of Uncle Ed's Lap, Father's Keeper, Cry Little Sister and Sterling. Her favorite thing in the world is an unconventional love story. Possibly even taboo. Visit her at parkerford13.blogspot.com