Author Cass Ford wants to promote sex positivity! Read on to find out more and hear about her latest book!
The Fifty Shades trilogy opened the doors for erotic romance writers and readers like me, but there’s still plenty of shame surrounding women, sex and porn. With Prince of Sin, I wanted to continue the momentum. So I investigated the adult entertainment industry to learn more. What did I discover?
Grimmer aspects, like
inequality or the prevalence of scammers
Above all, porn is a business
Using my research, I created a fictional
porn world to tell a playful, sultry love story. If you’ve ever viewed or read
porn, I think you’ll enjoy it and hope you’ll check it out. But above all,
instead of shame, I want women to feel pride. Sex is natural. Porn can be
beautiful and pleasurable. So let’s discuss it! I definitely don’t have all the
answers. But instead of suppressing or hiding our primal desires, let’s talk
about sex (baby).L
PRINCE OF SIN – BOOK BLURB
When savvy gossip vlogger Morgan
Sidney gets assigned the breakup of porn’s most illustrious couple, she strikes
a deal with her boss—if she scores an exclusive, she’ll get promoted. So when
the famous and flirtatious Prince of Sin offers to fulfill her three wildest
sex fantasies, Morgan must decide whether she’ll keep things professional or
surrender and explore her sensual side.
As someone who despises the media, why is Chase Prince spending time with a
reporter? Clearly, he’s intrigued. But can a scorched sinner—and the biggest
smut star around—let a fierce civilian enter his domain?
Prince of Sin takes readers beyond Tinseltown’s glossy Hollywood Hills to
Silicone Valley—for a behind-the-scenes look at a sometimes bleak, always
Cass Ford began creating
smoldering male protagonists when she was five years old and convinced her aunt
that she had a hot and heavy kindergarten boyfriend. In grade school, she
penned tales on her parents’ typewriter and by middle school sold her own love
and gossip magazines to friends. As a preteen at sleepover camp, Cass often
told playful, steamy bedtime stories to her bunkmates.
After earning her Bachelor of Journalism degree and
several TV/film certificates, Cass continued to hone her passion for
storytelling as a television development producer. Born and raised in Canada,
she now resides in California.
Drowning in bad luck, Cari
doesn’t know where to turn when the unexpected happens. A loyal customer at her
Key West café has left her an inheritance. She hopes for cash to save her
restaurant but receives an old brass bottle that looks like a sex toy…and has
At six-four, he’s built like
a gladiator, has looks to die for, and oozes sexuality. He’s also a jinn.
Color her enthralled and
excited. Besides being one hot dude, he grants wishes, right?
Not for her. Ironclad
tradition demands he serve men, not women. Of course, if she wants to get down
and dirty with him, he’ll gladly oblige.
Let the battle of the sexes begin. Before long, their differences fall away as they indulge in every lusty desire, while falling hard and fast. Ah, paradise. Until trouble arrives, threatening to pull them apart forever…
She couldn’t wait a second
longer and twisted the knob to open the container.
The top didn’t budge.
She tried repeatedly until
she was breathless and sweating.
The fucking thing wouldn’t
turn. The nicks and dents she’d noticed earlier proved to be pry marks around
the top that resembled the crown on a man’s cock.
“Crap.” She wasn’t equipped
to break this thing or saw it open.
After searching her kitchen
for something to use, she settled on rubber gloves to add traction to her grip.
With her thighs holding the bottle, she wrenched the top as hard as her
The knob not only loosened,
but flew off—similar to a cork on a champagne bottle—and hit her wall, denting
There goes my security
By itself, the bottle
trembled between her thighs, the metal growing warmer. Not an unpleasant
feeling, but fucking weird.
Appalled, she flung the
container on her table.
It thudded dully against her
purse and shook violently.
“Shit, shit, shit!” The damn
thing was going to blow. Her spicy, rich cooking must have pushed Ethyl into an
earlier grave than she wanted, and this was payback. Terrified, Cari dropped to
her knees, desperate to crawl to the door and outside. Frozen in horror, she
hunkered behind a chair for protection.
Gold-and-black smoke poured
from the bottle.
I’m going to die.
Hard rain struck the windows,
but they didn’t blow out from an explosion.
Rather than the smoke rising
to the ceiling, it curled in a slow spiral then drifted away from the table to
Shuddering, she crab-walked
away from it.
The smoke followed and took
Feet appeared first, at least
a size fifteen, the toes well-formed and long. Muscular calves and thighs
materialized next, dark hairs hugging them, the complexion olive.
She stopped edging back and
leaned forward instead.
Upper thighs and narrow hips
emerged, a startling-white fabric tied around the groin area, the ends hiding
the good stuff. Not a loincloth exactly, more like a scarf exposing a rock-hard
The abs and chest were no
different, each sculpted, the small nipples a dark brown shade, similar in
color to refried beans. The pecs quivered on each new breath. However, there
was no navel.
This can’t be happening.
She raised her face.
The smoke broke apart,
floated to the ceiling, and disappeared.
Leaving a thirtysomething man
standing before her.
He opened his lushly lashed
Her breath caught. His irises
were closer to gold than hazel, his shoulder-length brown hair thick and wavy,
stubble outrageously sexy, mouth sensuous, one dark eyebrow arched at her.
He planted his hands on his
Holy fuck. A gladiator couldn’t have
owned more muscles, though they weren’t overdone like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s,
but totally male.
Her pussy creamed.
An odd reaction since this
couldn’t be real.
When the knob flew off the
bottle, it must have ricocheted off the wall and hit her head, causing her to
hallucinate this, or rather, him.
Only one way to find out. She
grabbed his calf. Its brawn and heat made her ears buzz.
Grinning lewdly, he flexed
his muscles and pressed into her touch.
This was no dream. She snatched
back her hand. “Who-who-who-who—” She shivered so badly, she couldn’t speak,
but had to. “Who are you? What are you?”
His eyebrows shot up to his
hairline. He lifted his chin. “You, a mere woman, dare to question or demand
anything from me?”
“Huh?” Not liking his sexist
attitude, she scrambled to her feet. At five-seven, she couldn’t match his
height. By her guestimate, he topped out at six-four and was the most perfect
man she’d ever seen, except for his patronizing gaze. Precisely what she didn’t
need. “Again, who or what are you? This is my place. My kitchen. Not yours.
“I answer only to my master.
Go on.” He gestured her away as Antonini had. “Fetch the man in charge.”
As if. Before she could slug him,
he pivoted and regarded her kitchen warily, as a one-percenter would, seeing
only how small and simple it was.
She couldn’t have cared less
if he found her digs lacking.
He next focused on her
If he gave them a pissy look
or said one unkind thing about her cooking, he wasn’t long for this world, even
if she didn’t know how to off him.
Bent at the waist, he sniffed
the treats and licked his lips.
Holding one buñuelo between his thumb and forefinger, he examined the fried dough carefully, licked the contours, then popped the treat into his mouth. As he chewed, his lids slid down and he moaned the way guys do during orgasms.
After her latest dating disaster, legal clerk Kerry Roberts decides to give up on finding the man of her dreams. In jest, her eldest son suggests she find a Sugar Daddy. Curious about the type of man willing to pay for companionship, she signs on to a web site dedicated to helping women connect with men-of-means.
Burned by a woman only after his money, corporate attorney Grayson Nichols doesn’t understand why several of his clients enjoy the price of paying for companionship. To check out the hype of a recommended website, he creates a profile, not imagining he’d come across a woman not fitting the usual profile, and yet expressing her intent to have a man take care of her. Grayson is determined to teach her a lesson—money can’t buy happiness.
After their first meeting, Grayson finds himself intrigued by and attracted to Kerry. He switches tactic and proposes an unusual arrangement. Will their unique approach to a relationship work, or will they let old wounds prevent them from finding what money can’t buy?
When money can’t buy happiness, love will always sweeten the deal.