Dark Kiss has pulled me in like no other book of hers. Was it because I helped her with parts of it or was it because I saw pieces of us all over it? To stroke my ego, I’d say it was because I helped her. But my mind and heart said it’s the latter.

Amy’s female character, Rebecca, is a woman who has been hiding a desire to experience bondage. Her marriage falls apart because after she finally tells her husband of her desire, he kicks her out and tells her that she has sick and impure urges. So now she’s alone and getting her feet wet by going to clubs and dungeons for the experience she desired so badly that it destroyed her marriage.

I’ve read over half of the book, and aside from loving it, I’ve discovered something: Rebecca is Amy.

I have thought that here and there as I’ve been reading it. After reading the part where the male character, Nick, is working to break down her walls, I’m pretty certain. I could hear Amy’s pain through Rebecca’s declarations. And honestly, it made my heart and stomach hurt.

Hiding desires and curiosity sucked.

She probably had the interest in bondage for a long time before she felt safe and secure enough to even mention it. I’m sure she doubted herself even as she told him. Then he took everything away from her. Fucking asshole.

I set my tablet down for a moment; I couldn’t read anymore right now. I found myself thinking back to when my parents found out that I was into kinky shit. I had just graduated high school and was on my last summer vacation before college when they found out. It went over like a lead balloon and my relationship with my parents never recovered.

I grabbed my phone and sent Amy a text.

“Hi,” I said into the phone.

“J.P., what’s wrong?” I could hear the worry and strain in her voice, and I didn’t want to stress her out or let her worry.

“Relax princess, nothing is wrong.” I paused to pick up the tablet and stared at the cover of Dark Kiss. “So, I’ve been reading Dark Kiss…you’re Rebecca.”

She was quiet for a moment, but then the tone of her voice picked up and was chipper.

“I’m kind of in a lot of my characters—”

I cut her off though. I saw through it.

“No bullshit, Amy. You’re more than a little bit Rebecca. The interest in bondage is you. And that catastrophic loss of your marriage over voicing it. You hid it for years because it was ‘wrong.’ And when you trusted someone with it who you thought loved you, it blew up.”

I stopped because I could hear her crying. And now I felt terrible for making her cry.

“Oh, princess. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I wanted to punch a wall for making her cry. It was obviously a very touchy subject and one that she’s probably struggled with and fought against herself over it. “Amy,” I pleaded. She wasn’t saying anything, but she was still on the line with me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I was reading…and I knew it was you. I never want you to feel ashamed of what you like or something you want to try.” I swallowed the acid that was rising in my throat as I thought of her pussy ex. “I’m sorry for how your marriage ended. I’m not sorry that it ended, but I’m sorry for the cause of it. You’re better off, princess. You deserve to be able to breathe and be who you are, not what some closed-minded asshole thinks.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. I could tell she was calming down, which was making me feel better.

“You’re right, J.P. I’m better off.”

“You are. I know it doesn’t take that sting away. Not yet at least. But give me time, I will take that sting away…and replace it with a different sting,” I lightly teased.

Her congested laughter filled my ears, and I smiled knowing that she was smiling.

“Am I Nick?” I asked her.

“Yes, I want you to be Nick.”

Her character Nick was the answer to her fairytale. I cocked a smile. “Princess, I’m more than up to the challenge of being Nick. I can be more than Nick, in fact.”

She sounded like she was crying again, but I had a feeling these were happy tears.

“Do we ever find out what kind of car that Dom Nick drives?”

Again, her laughter made me smile.

“No, I didn’t put that in there. Should I have?”

“Cars are always important, princess. I’ve got to know what Nick is rolling around in.”

“He has a Challenger,” she teased.

“Perfect,” I said softly.

We ended our call with that, and I told her that I’d talk to her this evening and to keep her chin up. I’d check on her through the day and see how she was feeling. Not that I’d be able to completely tell in a text, but sometimes just knowing that someone is there is enough.

Did I ever think in a million years that I’d be a fucking prince? Never. Maybe fucking a strapping, twenty-something prince, but never a prince myself.

But I could take care of a princess for sure.