MY INTERVIEW WITH TRESSA RABBIT!

What’s your name and what genre would you consider your books to be?

Tressa Rabbit

Tell me about your book. How did you come up with that (story, angle, idea)?

The first book in my Daddy and Me Series is called Little Miss Tress: Diary of a Submissive Switch. I decided to write it because I was tired of the same BDSM novels over and over. I think this one is more realistic as it captures the flips and turns that healthy, consensual power exchange relationships can take.

How did you get interested in writing this particular genre (historical novels, mysteries, sci-fi, children’s books, etc.)?

I love writing about people and people’s unique experiences. I write in all genres and thought it would be fun to give erotica a shot too. For me, writing about sexuality is as natural as writing about other topics.

What kind of research did you do for this book?

I taught a class on human sexuality. During that time, I heard about many alternative relationships, including the BDSM dynamic of Daddy Dom/little girl (DD/lg). I wanted to learn more and started talking to people in the lifestyle.

Can you tell me about your Series?

Daddy And Me is a series about a submissive named Tressa. She is trying to find out who she is sexually. She begins her journey trying to be a dominatrix. A quirky, lovable character, she quickly learns she’s not cut out to the the alpha in a relationship and begins her quest to find her “forever Daddy,” the guy who can meet all her needs. This, like in life, isn’t as easy as it seems. She’ll try anything once and often finds herself rethinking things.

Do you have a favorite book out of this series?

I’m currently writing Pop Rocks, the second book in the series, which is a lot of fun. I enjoy it because it’s filled with laughs and funny moments.

Where did you get the inspiration/idea for your series?

I know a lot about general BDSM culture/lifestyles from my own experiences but was curious to know more about the DD/lg dynamic. I went to find books on this topic and found that there weren’t many fictionalized stories of this kind of relationship. I figured I should write it myself! (This is also how I came up with the tagline ‘No, Princess, Daddy’s not going to read you a story tonight. You are going to write one.’)

What is the hardest part of writing for you?

I have so many ideas that it’s hard to get them all down on paper. It’s also hard to just be in the moment in my relationships. I’m always thinking “I need to write this down” because Tressa “always kisses and tells.”

What do you think of book trailers? Do you have a trailer or do you intend to create one for your own book?

I do. It’s the pinned post on my page http://www.facebook.com/LittleMissTress

What writing advice do you have for aspiring authors?

Be brave. Write all the words. Experiment. What’s the worst that can happen?

Can you give us a few tasty morsels from your work-in-progress?

I wish I could start with today. It would be like purple unicorns, a massive glitter bomb; complete with confetti, or—even better—a playdate in an outside blanket fort with Daddy that lasted for 72 hours. Instead, I have to start closer to the beginning. You need to understand how I got here. It gets a little complicated. I promise, if you bear with me, it will all make sense. It will explain how I wound up with the words “Daddy’s Girl” tattooed on my ass; which is currently covered in a combination of whipped cream and caramel fudge. If you could see me, you’d know I was laying on Daddy’s bed with my legs tied by pink shackles to a spreader board. I’m lying on my stomach, typing this; wishing he would hurry up. But Daddy never does anything fast enough. He tells me to be patient. I’m horrible at patient, as you can probably guess.
If you know anything about littles, you may be wondering if this is a punishment or a reward. I think Daddy would call it a funishment, me waiting for him like this. But it feels like it’s been hours. I might as well start typing, from the beginning—parts of it anyway. At least it will take my mind off the whipped cream melting between my cheeks and the fact that I can already tell Daddy burnt the grilled cheese. Again.
Do you remember the story I shared about Olive- Juice? The time that Master took me to a restaurant and made me eat an entire meal without utensils? Let’s start there. It will help you understand why Daddy is so special to me, before I introduce you to him and continue with our story. Master, bless his soul, never said he loved me. After ten years together and that night in the fancy restaurant where I never did get a drink, the closest he got was “Olive- Juice.” When you say it, your lips look like they’re saying “I love you.” I still don’t know if I loved him. I think I loved what he did for me. I can’t imagine he loves me now, wherever he is. I’m the girl who convinced him to take out the bikes. I called him old. I told him to dust them off and ride. Master fought me, but finally agreed. He said it was too dangerous. He reminded me of the close call. But I pushed, and pushed, and pushed. Until, finally, he did. “Just a quick ride around the block,” he said. “I’ll meet you at seven. Don’t wear panties, Pet. I have big plans for you, bitch.” It was the last order he ever gave me. I attended his funeral without underwear under a skin tight black dress. People stared at me, with my collar, but I did not leave. I kept my eyes forward and didn’t make eye contact. Of that, Master would have approved.
For those first few years, after Master died, I kept to mostly myself – engaging in only what I knew would be Master-approved routines and scenes. After Master’s funeral, which I blamed on myself, I didn’t want any part of a relationship with a man. Now that I think of it, that may be part of why Rich pulled away from me. It doesn’t matter now. I can’t remember most of it. That’s the funny thing about grief. (And coming down from endorphin addiction).
When I finally had the guts to try, I went for August. The only sex I’d had was with my own submissive, a woman Master had let me keep as a pet for the duration of our decade together. I knew he would still approve of her; everyone loves Tilly. And Rich. But Rich didn’t count. Master even said so. He, too, had been around for years, but ultimately betrayed me. Normally, I’m only switch with women. I can’t effectively dominate a man. To me, nature didn’t set it up that way. Biology alone dictates that the man gives it, the woman takes it. (Feminists don’t like me much when I talk like that). But hey, that’s just how I see it. With Rich, it was easy. He was just that submissive. He didn’t challenge me. I didn’t find it attractive.
I shared my need to be with a man again with Tilly. She encouraged me to be true to my switch side and look for a relationship where I could be submissive. I wasn’t ready for that, I said. I told her I could pull it off again with August, dominating a man. She believed me. Why wouldn’t she? We had this conversation with her hanging from my closet with clothes pins on her nipples.
True to my word, I did, for a little bit. After all, I had had Rich. Dominating a man wasn’t entirely foreign to me. I spent a week or two building up my confidence. I heard Master’s voice from the grave, telling me I could do it. For a while, I even believed it myself. At least, until I couldn’t resist the urge to lay in August’s arms and call him Daddy. It was in that moment that I knew we—August and I—weren’t going to last. And, so began the search for a forever Daddy: Typical struggles of a switch submissive…