Domin8 Archives - Tena Stetler

Apr 14th Domin8 by Author Stephen B. King an Interview

Give a warm welcome to Stephen B. King, author of Domin8. Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Stephen and his Domin8.

Thank you Tena, for hosting me and letting me talk about Domin8. D8 is a thriller/police procedural/whodunnit, but, it is so much more too (my editor and narrator tells me). It asks some philosophical questions such as: If a man (or woman)has been married a long time, adores their partner and still desires them sexually but that desire isn’t reciprocated, does that give tacit approval for him/her to look outside the marriage for sex?

Here in Australia, I was staggered to read that the biggest statistical group for people seeking divorce was women in their 50’s. Why? It seems like you hear all the time about mature aged men (and women) having affairs with younger partners once the children have left home. Now I’m sure there are a multitude of reasons, but every man my age I know complains that their wives don’t want to make love anymore. So, when it all ends in tears, how come we always blame the man? Then, when I read a few years ago that the website Ashley Maddison, which is a dating site specializing in married people having affairs, got hacked and details of the users were leaked, the idea for this book grew. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not on a soapbox, and the purpose of Domin8 is to entertain – and I defy you to pick who the murderer is. But if I ask a couple of questions along the way and ask the reader to consider them, well; I think they are questions well asked.

Speed Round (one word only answer): Yep, I know torture for a writer!<evil laugh>

Leather or lace? Lace

Black or red? Black

Satin sheets or smooth cotton? Cotton

Ocean or mountains? Ocean

City life or country life? Hmmmm

Party life or evening at home? Home

Dogs or cats? Dogs

What’s under your bed? Drawers full of…..

Camping or hotel? Hotel

Road trip or staying at home? Both

Shopping or not? Not

Picnic or restaurant? Restaurant

Bath or shower, alone or with someone? Hehehehe – Always better with someone else

Bicycle or walk? Walk

Watch a movie in theater or home TV Home (with wine)

Swimming pool or lake? Pool

Dance or not? Dance

Sing or not? Always

Tell us a little about Domin8

Fifty-year-old Dave loves his wife, but she doesn’t want sex anymore and he has drifted into an online life of NSA liaisons with submissive women. When one of his lovers is murdered, he is the prime suspect. Then there is a second death and when he isn’t arrested, his wife is murdered while he is in the shower. He is arrested for three murders.

Dave has attracted a psychopathic, stalking killer intent on framing him for murders and Dave must fight for his freedom and discover who has targeted him. He must also find forgiveness from his children, and redemption for his life choices which caused so much chaos.

But the murders and mayhem continue until he must be willing to sacrifice his life and face the killer to save someone he loves.

Buy Links for Domin8:

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/38NApSu

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2xCrMNC

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/2Qe0vaI

Apple: http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/isbn9781509230761

A sneak peek between the pages of Domin8

“Hi guys. Come in,” I said cheerfully as I led them into my office and closed the door after them. “Have a seat, how can I help, would you like a coffee?”

“Not right now thanks Mr. Barndon. Do you recognize this?” Detective Collins said, without any acknowledgement of my happy greeting. He took out a plastic evidence bag from inside the folder he always carried and held up what looked very much like my brushed gold pen.

“Well, from here it looks like my missing Mont Blanc. Does it say Happy 25^thAnniversary, Dave on it?” I said, still with no idea the sky was about to fall in.

“Yes, it does, Mister Barndon. It also has your fingerprints on it. Well, it has the same partial prints on it we recovered from the motel room. We haven’t taken your prints yet officially, although, we didn’t really need to as you left us a nice set yesterday on the glass of water you had at the station.”

I nodded, intrigued, and wondered where in the hell they had gotten my pen, as it wasn’t left at the motel. But then, I must have for them to have it; there was no other explanation I could see. “Well, I suppose that shows what a useless criminal I would make doesn’t it?” I grinned, but only got a stone-cold stare in return.

“Do you know Melanie Brewster?” Milanski asked, as the earth opened and swallowed me whole. Suddenly I just knew she had been killed too. The blood in my veins turned ice cold and I sat up straight in my chair.

“Don’t tell me; please don’t tell me she is dead?”

He nodded, while watching me. I collapsed back into my chair, shocked and stunned into silence. I was being judged, not that I cared right then, and the look on their faces told me harshly.

“Yes, I know Melanie. I saw her last night, and we had sex. I was online with her when you visited me at home the night before. I caught up with her on my way home from work last night because our, shall we say, session had been cut short with your arrival. I was visiting her to tell her I ceased that lifestyle and would not be seeing her ever again.”

Sam broke in incredulously, “Dave, just how many women are you seeing? Seriously, how do you do it?”

I ignored the question, and instead asked my own, “Please don’t tell me she has been murdered, too.”

Milanski just nodded before continuing. “That’s where we found your pen. Right by her body, careless that. What time did you leave this particular victim?”

It took a long time to answer. My head spun and for the second time in their company I felt as if I could vomit. Why is someone killing women I’m seeing, and how the hell did my pen get there? It made no sense at all. They were both women who had so much to live for and neither would hurt a fly.

“I was home by 9:45 or so. I left her place between 9:20 and 9:30, and before you ask, she was breathing when I left. How was she killed?”

“Was your wife home when you arrived?” He asked ignoring my question completely.

It dawned on me suddenly, like another lightning bolt out of a stormy sky; they still believed either Dianne or I was the killer. “Yes, she was sitting on the couch, upset because a patient of hers had died that day, Alec Johnson, from cancer. He had no family, so Dianne spent a lot of time with him because she couldn’t bear the thought of someone dying alone. She is so not a murderer. I wish you knew her; you wouldn’t have to ask.” I was exasperated with the direction things were taking.

“Look here, Dave. Stop getting angry with us and think about things from our side. Two women you’ve screwed are both dead, murdered, within minutes of you leaving them, yet supposedly you have an amazing woman at home who wouldn’t hurt a fly. The time of death in both cases means you most definitely could have done it. True, it appears unlikely, but if it’s not you who else would have a motive? So far as we can see you are the only link between these women. So, by proxy, so does your wife. We could also draw the conclusion that as your pen was left at the scene, if you didn’t do it, it must be someone who knows you, and who wants to make it look like you’re a murderer. Now call us dumb policemen, by all means, but your wife would have the means and the motive if she knew of the plethora of women you seem to be screwing.”

He stared at me, and the silence continued while my brain raced at a hundred miles an hour. Why, and who would do this? Something he said was wrong though, wasn’t it? After Dark of course; I met them both through that website.

About the Author, plus a juicy secret!

When I was 15 I hitchhiked from Portsmouth to London leaving Friday night and returning on the Sunday(about 80 miles). This was to see a Pink Floyd concert with three other boys who were also mad for rock music. When I watch the movie Stand by Me (or read the book by another, more famous, Stephen King) I’m reminded of that weekend adventure. It was my first experience of sex, drugs and rock and roll. My parents passed away a few years ago, still not knowing about that weekend.

Stephen can be found at:

Facebook, Twitter, and his Website

Ah… so that’s why you can now tell the secret! LOL