I was giddy with excitement to see Cecilia (former owner of Circlet Press, where some of my short stories were included in anthologies in the early 2010s) was publishing this urban fantasy romantic thriller with femdom! Because goodness knows I never get enough femdom in my life. She was seeking ARC readers, and I eagerly volunteered.

So, the disclaimer: I received a free copy of the ebook in exchange for this honest review. And it’s going to be honest, even as you can see that I opened it up highly, highly predisposed to like it. Of course, I already was a fan of Cecilia Tan’s writing: she had a story in my Erato flash fiction anthology—in her guest blog post on the New Smut Project tumblr, she even mentions Bound by the Blood and its series, The Vanished Chronicles, which at the time was being a “problem child.” That long struggle to publish this erotic BDSM urban fantasy/thriller has at last paid off, in a book that feels a bit timeless—there are no references to current events, specific politicians, or pandemics, though it is grounded in lots of “lived-in” details of New York City, the surrounding region, and of course the BDSM community.
The Plot
Without spoilers, the key takeaways:
Mira, the heroine, meets Clive, the hero, who it turns out is involved in a sex cult. Don’t worry, they’re friendly. But there’s also an evil sex cult who is trying to kill them all (or perhaps enslave some of them). Because of the metaphysics of magic in this universe, direct violence damages one’s power—so instead, the Partisans of Fire like to let their namesake do the killing for them.
The Femdom!
The protagonist and POV characer, Mira, is fully dominant, though she bottoms in a scene or two as part of rituals with the friendly sex cult (in a way I, a woman who’s described myself to kinky partners as “an obligate carnivore,” didn’t find too off-putting). She also talks about submitting in her younger days before figuring out it wasn’t her thing. Obviously, switches exist; some of the most feminist women I know are sexually submissive—those disclaimers aside, I found it not just refreshing to read about an unapologetically, fully dominant woman, I found it soothing.
Mira’s desires are vivid and relatable. To share a few of my highlighted quotes:
He had a lean-muscled chest and black tousled hair and I closed my hand like I was taking a fistful of that hair and getting ready to drag him to that then-vacated St. Andrew’s cross. …
By all that’s holy, apparently nothing turns me on more than controlling a powerful being. Nothing. (And make no mistake: every person has power, just some more than others.) …
I wanted to kiss him, then, and by “kiss” I mean devour his mouth and his breath until he was gasping for air. The more vulnerable he seemed, the more I wanted do it.
A boy who’s pretty, well-behaved, and in distress
I don’t want to get too deep into Clive’s background to avoid spoilers. I’m never quite certain where the line is for those: I’ll try to give you some specific vibes, and quotes, without describing specific plot events. Suffice to say, I found him a compelling character. Not just because he’s a handsome submissive man with a head of cute black curls, though I enjoyed those just as Mira did. He’s also got an engaging personality that’s neither doormatty nor exhausting, a mysterious and probably sad backstory—my catnip—and (maybe spoilers) a great character arc that’s sort of a metaphor for the power of righteous anger. Except it’s not a metaphor because magic is real.
…a voice behind me said, “Watch out. He’s a tough little thing. Your arm may get tired.”
I get a little tingly hearing a character talked about like that. (Even if Ira, owner of that voice, is kind of a dick. More on him later.)
“Yes, Mira.” Again that deferential nod, which almost made my name into a title itself. The thing that really cranked up my anticipation right in that moment, though, was the way he followed my instructions. Sometimes independence and initiative are sexy, but right then total obedience was like a balm to my soul.
The BDSM, and explanations thereof
Especially at the beginning of the book, I wasn’t quite sure how familiar the audience was expected to be with kink. The more you’re into it, the more you’ll enjoy the book. Mira explains things at several points, which could help for clarity and emphasis, but may also feel like an unnecessary 101 spiel. Even with those asides, if you come in knowing very little, you’ll probably have to do occasional Googling or tread water. (But then, fantasy fans are good at learning the rules of an unfamiliar world.)
For instance, early in the first chapter Mira says:
If you’re reading this I probably don’t have to tell you why that’s sexy. But I will. After all, assumptions are what got us into this mess, and so much has already been lost.
For some of us, sex and attraction and lust are wrapped up in power, and invoking that power through pain or pleasure is what we do. It’s how we connect and it’s why people arrange club nights like that one, so like-minded souls can meet.
It’s not bad writing by any means, but these mini-lectures come up periodically in a way that might slow the pace for readers who already get the idea.
I call the book timeless, but some of Mira’s asides—in parentheses, even (which clearly I don’t object to on principle, but find mildly distracting in fiction)—read as very “2000s-2010s urban fantasy protagonist.” They weren’t unpleasant, and by the end of the book, we even learn a reason why she’s able to interrupt her own narration from time to time. They’re still interruptions, however minor.
Magic…that’s also BDSM
Or BDSM that’s magic, whichever way you want to view it. Which if nothing else is an excuse for some flogging and pegging scenes that move the plot along—I’m certainly not complaining.
Mira is new to the magic world, too, creating an opportunity for characters to explain the metaphysical system to her. And for characters to debate just how it works, which is fun and makes the world feel more complex and real. The stakes are high enough and the dialogue dynamic enough to hold my attention even when my patience for learning magic systems is at a low ebb (it’s probably a temporary thing; many of my reading tastes go in phases—except my perennial hunger for femdom).
“Hell is a concept cooked up by power-mad religious leaders to control and instill fear in their followers,” he said. “But demons. Demons are a real thing. And so is demonic possession.”
The BSDM-magic system also allows for some very interesting character dynamics. I already mentioned Mira bottoming briefly; much more fascinating to me is a scene between her and the villain toward the end that I perhaps shouldn’t describe in detail, because spoilers. In fact, some of the character and power dynamics are so unusual…and so hot…that I found myself thinking “I really hope this doesn’t awaken too much in me, because if it does, I have no idea where else I’ll find this kind of thing.”
(Characters have some interesting and inconclusive discussions about magic, gender, penetration, and power. The discomfort I felt over some of the depictions of PIV as especially significant or binding between characters was somewhat offset by how the magic system created good excuses for pegging. Yet Mira argues the assumption that penetration is solely “masculine” is a patriarchal holdover which theories of magic, like theories of anything else, aren’t immune to. She’s a woman who penetrates people with knives, so she’s got a point!)
Ira touched the point of the blade to a spot on Clive’s shoulder and just held it there, anticipating the first cut. I felt my mouth water. That was the way I would have done it, too—to build anticipation and to savor that first moment when the knife would bite into flesh, the pain about to ripple like a pebble dropped into a pond.
Some characters I had mixed feelings on (in a good way)
The villain gets very creepy, especially once he appears in person toward the end of the story (if “kills people with fire” wasn’t already bad enough). Despite that fascinating scene between him and Mira I mentioned, there are others that make my stomach churn to remember.
Even in the good sex cult—they’re called the Circle, but I so rarely get the opportunity to talk about “good sex cults”—has a member who is a boundary-pushing male dom. And he’s…kind of my favorite character? I wouldn’t like Ira as a friend, but I like to read about him. He’s an example of a real-life problem, and that’s worth reading about on its own, but he’s far more than a walking PSA. His genuine love for his wife is a sympathetic note, and watching his arrogance and disrespect receive consequences was quite satisfying. (Even as his pride is sometimes uncomfortably relatable.)
There will be sequels
Without specific spoilers, I’ll say the book ends at a resting point rather than a fully satisfying ending. Clive’s and Mira’s different character arcs both reach a climax (pun intended) but a lot is left unresolved, including the fate of at least one minor character.
Content warnings:
Be advised the book contains references to, threats of, and brief but explicit flashbacks to sexual assault (two flashbacks happen within sex scenes). There are several instances of doms pushing boundaries and making potentially dangerous mistakes.
As the title references, the kink includes bloodplay, including flogging and especially knives. Tan says in her closing author’s note, “Don’t attempt ritual sex magic at home. And if you do, please practice safer sex…not everything my characters do is something I’d condone being acted out in real life.” Though it makes for absorbing fiction.
Read Bound by the Blood:
First chapter on Cecilia Tan’s website
Bookshop.org
Amazon
Apple Books
Kobo
Hoopla
(some of the above are affiliate links; purchases made after clicking them earn me a small commission at no added cost to the reader)
