Blog Tour * Confessions Collection Vol 1 by Leila DeSint

I’m so excited to be a part of this blog tour, and holy crap, this book is FREE on Amazon and a number of retailers right now! Spend a minute with me, so I can demonstrate the freakin’ awesomeness that is this series.


Confessions Collection

Descend into a world of deception, depravity, decadence, desire and desperation…

In the opulent setting of London’s aristocracy, lives a young woman fractured into two distinct individuals, one face with multiple facets.

One façade, a whore, London Brown, who will confess unfathomable truths, the other, a loving daughter, Desniah Williams will pull back the curtain to reveal what lurks in the shadows.

Caden Jacob Carrington V, a politician will do anything to reclaim the woman he lost, including dredging up pains of the past.

Rhys Christos Edward Stowell, a philanthropist will fight to win the woman he loves while baring the darkness of his soul.

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Interview with Rhys Christos Edward Stowell

Thank you for agreeing to this interview with me, despite your reluctance to do so in the beginning, Pamela. I am correct in presuming that was the name given to you at birth?

Uh huh, but no one uses that name.

It’s fitting. Though, I’m quite sure not everyone is privileged enough to know just how well it suits you.

All right, Mr. Stowell. Since you’re a no-nonsense kind of guy, I’ll just come out with it. I have a teensy-weensy obsession with you. Okay, maybe it’s more substantial than that. 

You’re correct, Pamela, I prefer to lay the cards on the table whenever possible. I’m flattered and appreciate your candour. It’s refreshing. Though, you’re likely aware obsession can be dangerous, this fixation may prove no different.

Oh well. And you’re mysterious, kinky, and controlled, yet the cage that restrains your darkest desires seems to be weakening.

I’m not sure I see the mysteriousness given, I’m openly confessing my involvement in the events that occurred. The other two labels, I will lay claim to.

It would seem that the restraints that contain my darker needs are thinning. Given your own honesty, I’m going to tell you a secret. We haven’t even scratched the surface with revealing the darker side of me.

I’m breathless with anticipation to see it crumble.

Pamela, that’s quite the disconcerting confession you’ve made. I’m curious, why does your heart race at the thought of me going pitch black? I’m wondering if you grasp the potential consequences of that occurring.  If I have a say in the matter, that will never come to pass. Don’t be too disappointed. I’ve got a lot of creativity to occupy the space that comes before succumbing to the abyss.

How’s your control holding up?

It’s seen better days. 

Your mysteriousness, you gorgeous man, lies not in your darkness, but in the strength of its hold on you.

If only it had less strength. I know, I’d rest easier.

Help me understand the consequences.

Allow me, Pamela, to walk you through a little known fact about me. I’m not sure if you have noticed that I’m rarely asleep. Desniah wakes and I’m up, no matter when that occurs. I’ve trained myself to seldom enter REM sleep. I started working on limiting that stage of sleep in my teens because of what I dreamed. More nightmares to me. But to the darkness within me those dreams were the Garden of Eden a twisted depraved version but paradise all the same. A place to explore. The enjoyment in doing so was euphoric. While most blokes at that age dreamt about rugby and getting up some bird skirt. As I slept, images of all the different points of vulnerability to luring women undetected would play out. I told myself it was harmless that I would never act on it. Then I started running through each way in my mind, daydreaming. Again no big deal I wasn’t hurting anyone. Those fantasy felt exquisite. Eventually I picked one to do a dry run through, short of taking someone. At first going through the motions excited me. I refined my method. Eventually the fake run through wasn’t enough.  I was escalating. All this before I had the ability to drive. To end it, I stopped cold. Until my Thesis paper about the blind spots on the city of London’s surveillance grid and unsolved crimes in those zones, I edged too close for my liking to questionable behaviour.

You’ll have to pardon the fact that I’m not chock-full of details on the consequences, as I do my best not to allow that part of my imagination to wander too far.

What is your biggest fear should your control slip?

It all circles back to that doesn’t it, Pamela? It isn’t killing someone.

In volume one, I skimmed over the subject of the double-edged sword. The idea of artfully altering the mind irrevocably while crushing the spirit both hold the greatest allure and deepest of fears. Ultimately, forcing an individual to live with the aftermath of what I’d done to them as it haunts and torments them. 

Perhaps that’s what attracts you to Desniah.

Since my draw to her began before she’d been altered, I can’t hypothesize that conclusion with any degree of certainty. 

Hasn’t she endured the aftermath of an altered mind and a crushed spirit?

Yes, her mind was altered, Pamela. I’m not sure I would say her spirit was crushed. Rather I see that she shifted or split an aspect of herself finding the equivalent of a loop whole to protect that part of herself. Her actions could even be seen as rebellious toward her tormenter, which is fascinating.

Do you think she’s strong enough to survive your deepest fears?

I’m assuming you mean now?

Yep.

As I’ve said, I hope my deepest fear remains just that, a fear, and never comes to pass. And if it does, that I not inflict it upon her. But if that did occur, I believe she would survive, if we are defining that as remaining alive. However, it might break what spirit she has left, leaving her hollow.

I have faith you won’t leave her hollow, Rhys. Pun intended.

Thank you. That is very kind of you to say.

I know you’re a serious man, but we’re going to wrap up with a little fun.

Pamela, I believe you have what is called a disturbed concept of what fun is.

Psh! Five questions, one word answers only.

Your favorite item? Laptop.

Boxers or briefs? Boxers.

The last thing you did? Breakfast.

Breasts or backside? Backside.

Love is? Infinite.

Ha! That was as fun as I fantasized it to be!

Thank you for having me, Pamela. I enjoyed myself despite you only finding fun in the aspect of the interview where you sadistically limited me to the use of one word.

Kind Regards,

R. Stowell

Oh, no. Mr. Stowell. The pleasure was all mine. ♥


Excerpt

“Kiss me.” She trembled.

If she didn’t want the contact why had she requested it? I halted. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

I planted a light peck on her cheek. The way we always did.

“A lover’s kiss,” she said.

Being referred to as her lover made me hard. I leaned in. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.” Her eyes widened, she took hold of my blazer and pulled me closer.

Slowing my movement toward her, I cupped her neck with my fingers, and used my thumb beneath her jaw to angle her head upward. She stared into my eyes, as though attempting to read me. As I lowered my mouth to hers, I wrapped my other arm behind her waist and drew her flush to me.

She gasped.


Pam’s Review

♥♥♥♥♥

The dual personalities of London/Desniah bear a tragic story, and the delivery doesn’t hold back punches, but the impact isn’t as painful as you might imagine. Especially if you’re an old shoe to the explicit flavors of forbidden narratives.

This is a psychological suspense first, an erotic romance last. The sex scenes are indeed tantalizing, but it’s the execution of events that is passionately more clever and creative than most of what passes as BDSM Romance these days. It doesn’t use and abuse BDSM lingo and cliches. Rather, it accentuates the emotional aspects of the lifestyle in a subtle application. Not only is this better than the best-sellers in the genre, it is a hundred stars better. London Brown is significantly more sinister, and has earned a heart and balls to rival The Original Sinners’ great Mistress. Watch your back, Nora Sutherland.

Brazen in its construction, this story could very easily have degenerated into a melodramatic soap opera, but it remains deep-rooted, quietly serious, and thought-provoking throughout. I found myself doubled over my lap, gripping my kindle, and rocking with nervousness, mostly for Rhys and his beautiful, deranged, selfless heart. I swooned from the moment he entered the story, and by the final page he’d become one of my favorite all-time book heroes. What will happen to him in the next book? Will London/Desniah keep his heart safe? I’m both terrified and hopeful.

It’s hard not to read this book with a coiled apprehension, but LD’s greatest feat may be in her compelling depths of POVs. The four main characters’ viewpoints remind you that the heroine is under construction. As she evolves she is braced–and often crushed–by people who love her, despite her mental state, her profession, and her secrets. You’ll feel the battle of her dual personalities in the catch of your breath. The ending comes at you like a sharp prick, and not as an injected point of drama, but because you’ve come to deeply care for this woman.

As a disturbingly erotic and moving story, it deserves all the attention it can get. Artfully well-written, it digs deep enough to unearth the characters in full flesh and psyche as they navigate a twisty, looming plot. Profound, sexy and intelligent, this is a must-read for dark psychological erotica readers.


About the Author

LeilaDeSintLeila DeSint was born in a small town on the east coast of Canada. Her nomadic childhood gave her the ability to ebb and flow with the seasons, people and places she lived in. Most often, she could be found in a corner with a pencil and notepad using words to recreate the dark world around her. Many summers of her youth were spent on the shores of her birthplace collecting seashells, but she alway…s retuned them for the next wanderer that happened by.

The pencil and notepad have been traded for a computer, but the words never stop flowing, nor did her interest in conjuring glimpses of the world as she perceived it. The corner is now a desk. And rather than leaving behind seashells for wanderers, she pens dark, gritty erotic literature that examines the complexities of human emotions and sexuality through an ever-changing lens. She delves into the shadowy areas and explores the social-perceptions of taboos.

She threads together the remnants of the world she witnessed in order to shed light on obscure places.

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