08/12/2013
Prolific erotica author and editor Tyler (the Alphabet Erotica series) offers a hot and honest quasi-autobiographical exploration of the journey of a young submissive woman seeking the perfect dominant male partner. Tyler fulfills her goal of penning “meta-fiction, beta-fiction, masturbatory fiction,” never skimping on the details of Samantha’s encounters with her mostly male partners. Episodes marking Sam’s career path and development as an erotica writer are interspersed among her kinky, sexual, and emotional adventures. Readers seeking romance as well as erotic interludes will enjoy Samantha’s journey from hesitant awareness of her preferences through a truly psychologically abusive relationship to a more complete understanding of both her own needs and her partner’s. Readers tired of sensationalistic portrayals of BDSM will appreciate Tyler’s nuanced and realistic approach, which draws a clear line between kink and abuse. (Nov.)
Dark Secret Love: A Story of Submission, Book 1
Narrated by Rebecca Estrella
Alison TylerUnabridged — 6 hours, 28 minutes
Dark Secret Love: A Story of Submission, Book 1
Narrated by Rebecca Estrella
Alison TylerUnabridged — 6 hours, 28 minutes
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Overview
Editorial Reviews
"Described as 'the real Fifty Shades' the volume by the mistress of literary erotica is a kinky fairy tale inspired by the San Francisco writer’s own experiences and private diaries."—SF Examiner
"There is a strength in her submission not a desperation."—Inner Goddess
"If you have never read an Alison Tyler story here are the main things you need to know: they are traditionally rich vivid and deep but most importantly they’re real. Her characters don’t just intrigue you; they jump out of the pages take your wrists and drag you into the backseat of a speeding car destined for a journey full of sights sounds ideas and memories. You won’t read her work—you’ll feel it."—Jade A. Waters
"A whirlwind of pleasure and pain."—Kissin' Blue Karen
"I love Tyler’s use of raw and wild emotion and the way those emotions flow through their negotiations together as a couple in a D/s structure."—Peep's Scoop
"If you're tired of the dozens of stories that whitewash BDSM—tales where the sub has more orgasms than stripes where the first Master who recognizes her as a “natural submissive” turns out be her soul mate where her fear disappears with the first mild slap on her bare ass—check out this book. Ms. Tyler makes it clear that being a submissive isn't necessarily easy. It's a process of growth."—Erotica Revealed
"A partly autobiographical novel by Alison Tyler which follows a sub's quest to find the perfect dom."—Erotic Trade Only
"True fans will enjoy the glimpse into Tyler's kinky background."—Romantic Times Book Reviews
"One of the leading contemporary authors of erotica long before the E. L. James tsunami American writer Tyler also explored when younger many of the dangerous detours of the BDSM world in her real life and until now had only documented this in her blog. This is the initial volume based on her writings there of her discovery of kink and more a sentimental and sexual education which will take your breath away and help understand the motivations and yearnings alternative ways of living can inevitably provoke. Written as thinly fictionalised biography this is both fascinating scary and heartfelt but also profoundly humane and shows that the unsettling quirks of the human mind and body can come in much more than fifty shades."–Lovereading.UK
"Unpredictable honest and raw."—Cara Sutra
"Giving the traditional fairytale a lascivious twist Alison bares all in her quest to find her kinky prince and live naughtily ever after."—Lovehoney
"Growing up as women we can often fall into a facade of being sweet and delicate kitties but some of us have secret compulsions to be dark and deviant. It kills me sometimes that I come across to others as a flower when actually I feel grimy and tangled and ripe for the belt. Anyone with a story or a fantasy of wanting to blossom into something other than what was expected of them will relate to Dark Secret Love."—She Boppin
"Dark Secret Love is like getting a dark chocolate candy bar that melts like sweet love on your tongue but leaves you satisfied and in that place emotionally that let’s you know you have just had an experience that will not be repeated soon."—Airen Wolf Reviews
"Dark Secret Love was definitely a kinky story complete with hot sex but it also managed to make me think about why I’m submissive and what exactly I’m looking for when I seek out a dominant partner. Not bad for 218 pages."—Naked All the Time
"[Dark Secret Love] may be categorized as fiction but it’s bursting at the seams with truth."—Tamsin's Superotica
"The only thing I didn’t like about this novel is that it had to end."—Thoughts of a Growing Sub
"You'll have to attach yourself to something steady because it's easy to fall into her world."—The Mizadventurez of Miz Angell
"I found myself turning page after page losing time as I progressed never wanting to the pause the story."—Poetic Desires
"Dark Secret Love is literary erotica of the absolute highest order."—Harper Bliss
"This tightly written piece of erotica is absolutely fabulous from its content to its prose. The sex is scorching the characterization divine this is what erotica is supposed to be: sometimes lyrical sometimes brutal a cathartic rise and fall of emotion that changes you reader and heroine for having encountered it. Even if BDSM isn’t your kink it’s easy to get off on the emotion and the tightly constructed prose. Tyler is a master wordsmith and in Dark Secret Love her craft shines."—City Book Review
"This is the sort of fiction that can save a person—wise about the world unashamed unafraid of truth full of voice and strength."—Annabeth Leong
"Dark Secret Love captures the essence of submission—the lust and longing fear and doubts and most of all the need."—Sophia Valenti
"There was a beautiful authenticity to her voice that made reading almost an act of voyeurism rather than the idea of taking the place of the heroine like it is so often the case in erotica. This is not a shell of a character I could project myself on it’s a very much alive and loud person of her own who tells me her story. And I loved every minute of it."—Laila Blake
"Dark Secret Love follows Sam through her journey of self discovery and acceptance in an SM setting. From meeting an older man in high school to meeting Jack. The sex scenes are steamy and the kink is on par with real life."—The Rose Garden
"What all of us had hoped Fifty Shades would actually be."—Violet Blue
"Readers tired of sensationalistic portrayals of BDSM will appreciate Tyler’s nuanced and realistic approach."—Publishers Weekly
"When I was finished I wanted to start reading all over again because closing the book left me longing for the conversation I was just having with a kindred spirit about BDSM."—Insatiable Desire
"A very REAL feel that you don't have with the majority of books erotica or otherwise."—Reading is a Way of Life
"The prose is pristine and beautiful."—Reviews by Amos Lassen
"Dark Secret Love could be a roadmap for other uninhibited young women a trip down memory lane for older submissives and escapist fantasy for the curious among us; any way you read it this book is a lot of fun."—xoxoamore
"The people are real in this book. The characters are alive with desires wants kinks quirks."—Geeky Nymph
"Dark Secret Love is derived from the personal longings and desires from the author’s colorful palette of sexual experiences."—New York Journal of Books
"From the first sentence to the last I was entranced by the world I found myself in one that was in places as dark as the author prefers her coffee. This is a beautifully written book and the pace is perfect pulling me along as the reader allowing me to glimpse into the world of kink but strangely never allowing me to be fully immersed."—Clitical
"Simply erotica at its finest."—Tracy Riva Monica Cullip
"Providing candid revelations of her BDSM lifestyle (and based on her personal journal recordings) Alison Tyler draws upon some twenty-five years' experience as a gifted author of erotic literature to create what must be described as a kind of docudrama that commingles personal experiences with a novelist's vivid imagination. The result is a compelling read from first page to last!"—Midwest Book Review
"The kinky red hot sex practically drips off the page in Dark Secret Love. Alison Tyler has created an erotic masterpiece! Be warned—once you start reading it’ll be hard to stop until you reach the book’s climax."—Rachel Kramer Bussel Editor The Big Book of Orgasms and Cheeky Spanking Stories
Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940171451158 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Insatiable Press |
| Publication date: | 09/17/2013 |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
| Sales rank: | 980,940 |
Read an Excerpt
“Take off your clothes.”
The tone of his voice did not allow any hesitation. With fumbling hands, I slid the dress over my head. Let him see that I had on a matching bra and panty set, and the stockings he’d admired in the garage under the bar. And those silly, useless high heels.
“All of your clothes.”
I had to bend down to untie the shoes and slip them off. Bra and panties next, then stockings. I was entirely naked, pressed up against that white wall, waiting for Jack’s next move. Turns out, he only moved very slightly, to slide open the glass door to the balcony.
“Out—”
I looked at him, and I know my eyes were begging.
Tell me. Tell me what you’re going to do. So I can prepare myself. So I can process the possibilities ahead of time.
“Out,” he repeated, more sternly, and I walked through the opening and out onto the small balcony. He didn’t have anything extraneous here. No potted plants. No sports gear. Just a small table and two chairs, where I could imagine that he might drink coffee in the morning, or his whiskey at night.
You think Jack went out there with me. You think he fucked me on the balcony, his test for this evening simply the fact that I would obey him, that I would go nude outside, where people might look up and see me—although, look up from where? Street level was too far down. Nearby buildings were all offices. Would anyone still be working at this hour?
Jack slid the door closed behind me, and when I turned, immediately, those wordless thoughts of begging for information now finally reaching my lips, he was gone. I was out there on his balcony, in the dusky lavender light.
And I was all by myself.
I cupped my hands and looked into the condo, thinking that Jack might be on the sofa, watching me, or maybe over at the bar, refilling our drinks. No. There was no Jack. I wondered what he expected me to do. Should I sit down on one of the chairs, put my feet up on the table, act nonchalant, as if I sunbathed nude—in the dark—every night of the week. But Jack would know better. He had my fantasies pegged. He knew that there was very little in my world that I was nonchalant about. Being naked, and exposed, was not one of those things.
The view from his balcony was mesmerizing. As night began to fall, the lights of Sunset took on their vibrant gleam. L.A.’s constant melody of traffic noise lulled me. I stared down at the cars, wondering where their passengers were headed. To the fancy restaurants or clubs on the strip? Or out to the beach, along the curves of this classic Boulevard.
A chill ran through me, and I wrapped my arms even more tightly around my naked body. How long would he leave me here? I wondered suddenly whether he’d even locked the door. Perhaps, he’d simply slid the glass shut behind me, and the test was whether or not I was smart enough to think to slide the door back open.
But somehow I knew. That door was locked. And I also knew that trying to open it up, and failing, would send me over the edge.
I didn’t have a watch. The only way I could tell that time was passing was by the sky. Darker now. Darker by the second. Crispness in the air.
“Oh, god, Jack. How long are you going to leave me out here?”
I was speaking out loud, the sound of my voice shocking to my ears. Would he make me sleep out here? Would he leave me all night? What was he waiting for? Did he want me to show him how strong and brave I was? Or did he expect me to break down, to grovel, to go on my knees on the balcony floor and supplicate myself to him? And what would it matter if I did? He wouldn’t see me. He wasn’t in the room.
Tears started at some point. I was feeling sorry for myself. Here, I’d had an idea of what Jack would do to me, and I was hopeful that his fantasies would match my own. But now, he had thrown me off balance. While I had been planning on steeling myself, taking whatever he had to give, showing him my strength, he had been planning on exposing my weaknesses.
Pacing calmed me. From one end of the patio, to the other, my arms crossed over my chest, as ever, my hair in my eyes, head down. Back and forth, never stopping to look into the room to see if he had come back. Never sitting on the chair, or the table. Not bothering to look back at the view. The darkness of the sky was heavy. A weight over me. I kept walking. My feet were cold. My whole body was cold. My lips were cold. The tears streaking my cheeks were touched by the soft breeze in the air.
But this wasn’t right. He didn’t want me to pace like a caged animal. Not really, did he? He must have been waiting for me to understand. Waiting for me to get the test. To make sense of it. My mind worked rapidly. Furiously. And yet I was at a loss. What did he want?
And then suddenly, a light came on in the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, and he’d turned on the light next to him. The golden glow looked warm and inviting. How long had he been sitting there? Could he see me out of the window? Or did the glow in the room create a mirrored effect, and was he only looking at his own reflection?
I hesitated, then walked toward the glass. And then went on my knees, and from my knees to my belly. Head down. Not looking at him. Not even guessing anymore how long he’d leave me out here. But letting him know—I hoped—that I would stay without screaming, without pounding on the door, without making a scene. I would stay as long as he required.
Trust me.
That’s all he’d asked for.
Trust me.
And I did.
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