Due to popular demand, CD Reiss’s Complete Submission…
the complete eight book bundle of the Submission Series…
is NOW AVAILABLE on ALL RETAILERS.
As a bonus, the first three chapters of Coda are in the back, and CD Reiss promises they’re hot as hell.
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1akAleP
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1wp5gRo
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1DXdDG1
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1Arm1Lj
This bundle contains books 1-8 of the USA Today Bestselling Submission Series, and totals 1300 pages of intense, steamy romance that will leave you breathless.
Rich. Hey, I’m not gonna complain.
All the ingredients for a few nights of mind-blowing pleasure are right there. He’s made it perfectly clear he can’t love me, and I’m not out to fall in love either.
But I can’t stay away from him. He’s got this bossy way about him in bed. The word “Sir,” falls from my lips, and when he tells me to get on my knees…well, my knees have a mind of their own.
I got this. I can be his slave for a few nights and walk away unscathed.
We get in. Get it on. Get the hell out. Done.
He knows the line between love and lust. It’s right between my legs. Now, let’s see if that line blurs for me.
FROM CODA (RATED NC-17)
“You know what, Monica, you don’t even know yourself. Look at you. I haven’t seen you this relaxed in months. The only time you let your worry go is when you give me control. And your worry is what keeps you from being honest.”
I swallowed. Blinked. A torrent of wetness welled behind my eyes, “I don’t want to break the scene.”
“Stay still. Stay naked. Speak your mind.”
“I almost died with you a hundred times. That recovery room, they had you in this induced coma and you looked dead. There were bags of blood. Bags, hanging over you and you were all opened up. And, I’m sorry, I haven’t said this because you’re the one who went through it.” I swallowed a gallon of tears. “I don’t want to see you like that again. But I think about it all the time. I dream about it. I see it when I close my eyes. I want you to live, so I do what I think is going to make you happy and I always get it wrong. Stay or go. I give you attention or none. It’s always wrong.”
“What about your happiness?”
“It doesn’t matter. Not as much as yours. It’s not life or death.”
“It is, Monica. It is.”
I shook my head. “You can’t convince me of that. We can do this hurtful honesty thing all day. You’re the priority and I’m okay with that. Deal with it.”
He nodded, looking down for a blink, then up at me. He reached for my wrists.
“These go behind your back.”
I did as instructed.
“Now, get on your knees.”
I bent them. With my hands behind my back, it was hard to balance.
“Do you need some help?” he asked.
I thought he’d take me gently by the elbow, but dragged me down. He was right. I was relaxed, totally submitting and trusting him, loving every bit of discomfort he dished out.
“Spread your knees apart.”
I did, too slowly for him. He kicked them wide.
“Do you remember your safeword?” He asked, unbuckling his belt.
“Yes.” A tingling rush went down my spine with the promise of his dominance and the way it made me forget how fragile he really was.
His cock was out in the next second. “Open. Your. Mouth.”
FROM THE SUBMISSION BUNDLE (RATED PG)
“Well, well, look at that,” Ute said, staring across the street.
I followed her gaze and saw what she saw. Jonathan had on simple trousers and a sweater with a leather jacket. In contrast to the rest of the men at the party, who spent hours looking as though they didn’t care what they wore, he looked neat and put together, as if he cared. He was tall and lean and straight, with his hair brushed back off his forehead. He owned the world and everything in it. The difficulty of staying away from him was past his looks, past any single physical attribute. He fell into a new, undefined category of “right.”
I set my back straighter and tilted my chin up. I thought Debbie would send Robert, but instead I’d have to pretend I was fine and my face wasn’t pounding.
“He’s coming over here,” said Ute, brushing her hair flat.
“He’s my ride,” I said.
Her eyebrows arched.
I paused. Jonathan liked blondes, if his ex-wife was any indication. Ute was beautiful. She’d do well with him.
I thought about adding a short explanation. Maybe ‘I’m in love with him, but I left him’ or ‘he was my lover, boyfriend, master, king...’ None of it worked, and by the time I came up with ‘we were together for a while,’ he was upon us.
“Hey,” he said, and that voice went right into my gut and ripped stuff out.
CD Reiss is a USA Today and Amazon bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up, she’s at the well, hauling buckets.
Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere, but it did embed TV story structure in her head well enough for her to take a big risk on a TV series structured erotic series called Songs of Submission. It’s about a kinky billionaire hung up on his ex-wife, an ingenue singer with a wisecracking mouth; art, music and sin in the city of Los Angeles.
Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and “hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to give the toilets a once-over every couple of weeks or chop a cord of wood.
If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.
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