Hello! Happy hump day to you all! I'm really excited for my release this Friday! Where we last left off, Nicole, feeling distant from her fiancé, tells Geoffrey that she plans to leave. He presented her with a contract. Read on to find out what it says! 

             “It’s a contract.”
            My brows arched higher, even though I tried to let my cool tone belie my curiosity. “What does it say?”
            “Well, it outlines the catch, as you called it, which is that for the entire week, seven days and seven nights, you’ll do exactly as I say, word for word, or suffer the consequences.” I felt a desire to laugh so strong that it tickled my throat. I swallowed past it-- just barely--mostly due to the solemn nature of his eyes. If this was a joke, his eyes would be smiling right now, even if his mouth wasn’t. I knew by the way he stared back at me, impassively, that he was very serious.
            “What does it say?” I asked, once I was reasonably sure I could speak without cackling.
            “You should read it and find out.” He offered the paper once more, and eyeing it dubiously, I took it.
            I left it folded, though, and met his gaze. “So, one week of my life in exchange for a million dollars?”
            His gaze was turning wary. “Yes, but you still need to read it to see the particulars.”
            “Why can’t you just tell me?”
            Geoffrey clenched his jaw and I saw a muscle tick along his strong jawline. “Because you always read a contract thoroughly before you sign it, Nicole.”
            There it was again--that take-charge, almost scolding voice that, excluding today, I’d never heard before. Strangely, I found myself intrigued by it. Partly because it was new and partly because I had a strange suspicion that I was seeing a side of him that had previously been hidden from me. The fact that he would even go to the trouble of drawing up a contract made me more curious still. Rationally, my brain told me that it was only a week in exchange for a guaranteed payday. What idiot wouldn’t take that bet? Plus, sometime during this bizarre, unexpected conversation it had occurred to me that the money would come in handy for more than one reason. My mother might be having a lot of medical bills coming up, and with this money, I could help her with them.
            “Nicole? Are you listening to me?” His voice had gone soft, yet somehow sterner.
A little shiver ran along my body, but I didn’t feel cold. “Yes.” My voice came out as a breathy little whisper that I didn’t recognize.
“Are you going to read it?” He arched a brow, a silent warning, I could tell. What I didn’t know was what it warned against.
           I should cut my losses. The face I’d thought of as being so familiar was looking more like a stranger’s by the moment. There was a fire in Geoffrey’s eyes that was foreign to me, an edge to his voice that belied the gentle, kind man I knew him to be. And God help me, but a part of me--a very big part of me--wanted to know this new side of him before I left him behind. How would I truly be able to put the past in the past if I had any lingering doubt? 
           “And if I don’t?” There was a challenge in my words, softly spoken, but there nonetheless. I could see it register in the flicker of his eyes, and there was a strange tightness in my chest as I waited to see what he’d say.
          “Are you telling me you don’t want to accept my offer?”
          I shouldn’t want to. I was smart enough to know that. But God help me, I wanted to anyway. “Do you have a pen?”
          His brows arched together, rising toward his hairline. Then, all at once they crashed, knitting together. “Nicole, I want you to consider this very carefully. If you don’t read something before you sign it, you have no idea what you’re agreeing to.”
         “So tell me what I’m agreeing to.” I’d never been so willful and stubborn before. I couldn’t say what made me behave so now, only that the words seemed to come out before I’d even thought of them. It felt like I was inside a dream, everything felt fuzzy and surreal. Maybe that was why I felt comfortable enough to test him. That, and the fact that I’d never had a reason to before, made me uncharacteristically bold.
         Suddenly, his expression changed, the corners of his mouth tilting upward. “I’ll tell you what, how about I read it to you?”
         It felt like a win, but still, I hesitated, made unsure by the sudden gleam in his eyes. “Okay.”
         Without another word, Geoffrey took me by the wrist and pulled me toward the bed. My brow wrinkled--was he going to try to make a pass at me, not even an hour after I’d told him I wanted to break up? Regardless, I let him lead me. Then, with a hand to my back, he pushed me down until I lay over the edge of the mattress, my tummy pressing into the fresh sheets even as my bottom half pushed out toward him.
           “Geoffrey--”
           “If I’m going to read it to you,” he cut me off swiftly, “then this is how you’ll stay while I do. Understand?”
           I didn’t know what possessed me to stay there, bent in half with his hand pressed to the small of my back. My belly had begun to feel so strange and I had a feeling that it had to do with more than the sheets that pressed against it. It was an odd, fluttery sensation, coupled with the feeling of his hand gently but authoritatively pressed against my skin. My pussy didn’t seem quite so uncertain as the rest of me and had begun the slow, aching throb that precluded a good romp in bed. It had been quite a while, come to think of it--and how could I not, with the air suddenly so thick with sexual tension?
          “I understand.” The words came out as a low warble, but I knew he heard them because he immediately responded by hiking up the gauzy cotton skirt I was wearing. The feel of the air kissing my skin left goosebumps along the backs of my legs. My breath caught in my throat even as my pussy pulsed hotter. What was I doing? What was I allowing to be done to me? It suddenly seemed like a huge gamble, but I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh when I felt my fiancé’s hand caress my ass through my thin panties.
           “Rule one: the undersigned, hereby referred to as ‘the submissive’, will always refer to the dominant as ‘Sir, Master, or Master Geoffrey.’”
           Wait, what? I craned my neck back to peer at him, trying to see if his lips had bloomed fully into a smile. To my shock and disbelief, the beginnings of the smile I’d seen had vanished completely and he was looking back at me as calm and collected as he could be.
          “Do you understand what I just read, Nicole?”

I am so thrilled to introduce my newest book, "The Price of Submission" which is coming soon! To set up the scene, after a whirlwind, fairytale romance, Geoffrey proposed to Nicole. She didn't even consider saying anything other than a heartfelt "yes". The only problem is a year later they still have no date set and it doesn't look like Geoffrey has any plans to marry her anytime soon. More than that, he's started working ever- increasing hours that leave her alone most of the week. Feeling that he's far from the man she fell in love with, she decides to end things. After having time to think about it, Geoffrey proposes a plan to keep Nicole, at least for a little longer. Enjoy the excerpt! 


           "Do you remember signing the prenup?"
           “Yes, of course. The point, please, Geoffrey.”
            “The point is that leaving now entitles you to nothing.”
            “I don’t care about your money,” I told him, wounded that he’d think otherwise.
            “I know, but all the same, it would have made things easier on you. Are you planning on moving back in with your mother? Getting a place of your own? Either way, I assume you’ll need a job.”
            Having these questions I’d barely considered hurled at me when I was in no frame of mind to deal with them made me feel nauseous. I pressed two fingers to my temple and began to massage in an attempt to ward off the migraine I could feel looming. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not your problem anymore.” It came out sounding sharper than I’d intended. 
            “I never considered you my problem, Nicole. And I will worry, regardless.” There was no mistaking it now. That was definitely steel lacing his words. “I’m proposing to make the transition easier for you.”
            I raised my tired eyes to his, interested despite myself. “How’s that?”
            “I will give you the money that would have been yours if we’d indeed married and divorced.”
            My brow furrowed. I wasn’t sure I was following him. If he was saying what I thought he was, that would mean…
            “I’ll transfer a million dollars into your bank account, and sixty-thousand annually, on a date of your choosing."
            When the meaning of his words registered, I nearly choked on nothing but the air that filled my lungs. He’d what? “That’s very kind, Geoffrey, but…”
            “It’s not kind,” he countered, his tone pragmatic. “It’s business.”
            I was shaking my head no, but even as I was nonverbally refusing his offer, I was doing the math in my head. A million dollars…I could hardly imagine it, other than in some cartoonish image in my brain where it disappeared the minute I tried to touch it. And that wouldn’t be all--sixty thousand dollars a year. That alone was more than I’d ever made for a year’s work, and I’d earn it doing whatever I wanted. I could spend my time Netflix binging and eating brownie batter, which I’d be able to buy plenty of, and it would roll in nonetheless, handed to me, just like that. It was absolutely mind-boggling. Was this how Geoffrey felt when he logged into his accounts every morning and saw that he had more money than he could ever spend? I’d never asked him, but I suddenly found myself curious.
            I’d be able to do whatever I wanted. I could find a job I loved, whether that was volunteering at soup kitchens or pet-sitting. I would have the luxury of time to decide what I wanted to do, without having to worry about the size of my paycheck. Or, I could live frugally and never have to work again. Geoffrey was a man of his word. I knew that if I agreed to accept the money in exchange for whatever string was attached--because we both knew there was one, a mighty long one, from the sound of what he was offering in return—that he would keep it and I’d become, if not a rich woman, then one who was very well-off.
            It was almost comical, because in the year and a half since we’d met, all I’d thought about was becoming Geoffrey’s wife. Now, it looked like he’d be needing to find someone else to fill that position. Would he take out an ad, I wondered, a smile curving my lips. Did rich people sign up for accounts on Match.com and the like, or was there some secret signal? A dollar sign that flashed in the night sky alerting all the eligible bachelorettes? I doubted I’d ever know.
            Even as I played it over and over again in my head, I knew it was too good to be true. And my mama always said run like hell, advice I’d ignored when I’d fallen for the handsome man with perfect hair and a Hollywood smile. As it turned out, she’d been right and I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. I would have loved to run and never look back, right then and there, but common sense stopped me. What he was offering was also too good to pass up without hearing the full scope of what he wanted.
Geoffrey was looking back at me stoically without a single muscle betraying how he felt about waiting for my answer. He had a good poker face.
            “What’s the catch?”
            “The catch?” he echoed, as though the phrase was foreign to him.
            But I wasn’t buying it. “Yes, the catch. I go on a week-long vacation with you and suddenly you’re moved to give me a crap-ton of money and pay me to eat, sleep and breathe?” I let my arched brows say the rest--that I wasn’t born yesterday, thank you very much.
            Once more, he pushed the paper toward me. Once more, I let it stay folded and clenched between his fingers.
            “What’s that?”
            “It’s a contract.”
      


I hope you enjoyed this excerpt! Tune in next time to find out what Geoffrey proposes to save their relationship! Here's a hint: I bet it involves a lot of trips over his knee and getting reacquainted!

Today I have the honor of having the talented Heather Hart on my blog to share an excerpt from her book "Hold Fast".

Bonnie MacDonald lives on the wild and beautiful Scottish Isle of Skye. Her life is peaceful enough, apart from the ever-simmering feud between the McDonalds and the MacLeods, who live to the north. But now her father is going to die, and it is not to be a Highlander's glorious death in battle, but an underhanded assault in the dark by a traitorous servant. That same treacherous fiend had once come after Bonnie, but at the last moment she was rescued from violation and murder by the one man she cannot show gratitude to, the son of her family’s sworn enemy, Rory Mòr MacLeod.

And yet she falls in love with her rescuer, and he with her, and there never were two more star- crossed lovers. Neither family will readily accept a union between them, but Rory does not give up on making her his own, though Bonnie often misconstrues his intentions. Matters are further complicated when they discover that Bonnie’s guardian harbors a secret passion for his beautiful young ward, and soon claims her for himself.

But everyone’s plans are foiled when another suitor for her hand kidnaps and whisks Bonnie away to a lonely house in the north of Skye. Her only chance is to flee her captor and seek sanctuary in Rory’s castle at Dunvegan. But while Bonnie fights for her own survival, the battling clansmen bring their families to the brink of war, and all for the love of the same woman.

Doesn't that sound just swoon-worthy? Keep reading below for a wonderful excerpt!

It wasn't that I disliked Rory Mòr MacLeod. What I felt was more akin

to pure hatred. I watched as the boy my cousins and I had all called

the wee terror of the glen skipped along the banks of the Sound of

Sleat as if he owned them. My stomach turned. My father warned me

not to mess with the MacLeod scum, and I knew his warning was not

without cause. Rory was the favorite son of his father, and the

MacLeod clan had been warring with my family forever. What's more, I

had cause of my own, for the spoiled brat liked nothing better than to

tear my skirts and pull at my braids.

He scampered along, driving an ancient, scrawny cow ahead of him.

Rory held his head high, like a strutting peacock, all the while urging

the decrepit beast on from the lush green pasture located a short

distance from the shore. I had no time to spare for the black­haired,

black­fingered, ill­mannered ruffian that he was, so I turned away,

pretending I hadn't seen him, and carried on with my work.

"I see you, Bonnie MacDonald. 'Tis a fine day, is it not?"

"Aye, it was, before you came along, Rory Mòr MacLeod."

He paused, a cocky grin spread across his young face, and he leaned

upon his staff and looked down at me. "Now that's no way for a lass to

talk to a Highland clansman."

"Away with you, you gormless fool." I looked at the poor beast at his

side, noting the sharp contours of her bony ribs. "I see that your

betters have entrusted you with the pick of the MacLeod crop. It would

be better to put that poor animal out of her misery, would it not? What

are you thinking, driving such a wretched thing this far south and in

this heat? 'Tis a wonder she doesn't die of old age before she makes it

home."

He shrugged and watched as I continued to wash the wool in the sea. I

kept my head down, hoping he would go away, afraid he would set on

me as he had so often done before and make me cry. His silence made

me uncomfortable.

"What are you doing so far from the safety of Dunvegan? These lands

were taken from you long ago, you've no business here now."

He looked across the land to the distance peaks of the Red Cuillin.

Swinging on his staff, he addressed me as if I were still a child.

"A traveler has the right of passage, whichever way his path takes

him, does he not? If you must know, the cow is old, and belongs to a

kinswoman who lives not too far from these parts. She bade me

slaughter her, for she could not. I'm taking her to the market in

Saaisag, as I'll get a fair price for her there. As you see there's not

much meat on her bones, but she's added plenty of calves to my

aunt's stock over the years; so don't judge her by how she looks now,

Bonnie."

"It's not the cow I'm judging. What is your aunt thinking, living this far

south, so far away from the protection of her kinsmen?"

"The MacDonald's have their people in the north, do they not? Or

would you draw a line across the island and keep everyone in their

proper place? Any road, if it were not for my childless aunt’s love of

me, you would like as never have had the good fortune to meet me.

Many a summer she begged me play at her heels, to drive out the

loneliness in her heart. I was glad of it. She’s a fine woman, and I do

whatever I can to ease her burdens, no matter how far beyond the

castle wall she lives."

I looked up, my hands still in the cool water as I scrubbed the freshly

cut fleece. There was a swagger about him I didn't like and I wished

with all my heart he would go away and leave me to my business.

"Look, is there something you're wanting or are you going to make

that wretched cow stand in the sun all day?"

"Ah, well, she'll be well enough, I'm thinking. I was wondering about

your good cousin, Donald? He has been the talk of my clansmen of

late."

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I can tell you he's not been asking

after you. Why would he? Are you up to more of your treachery, Rory

MacLeod? Do you and your clansmen have nothing better to do than

continually plot against mine?"

"Oh, our business would be nothing to a wee sprite of a lass like you."

He cocked his head to one side. "You look different. Your hair? You

used to braid it."

"I'm not a little child anymore."

"No, Bonnie, I see that you're not."

Here on my blog today I have #1 Best-Selling author Maggie Ryan with a sizzling snippet from her latest #1 hit, "Jewel's Gems". In this book, we learn about the kindly proprietor of the "Red Petticoat Saloon". This a wonderful read, full of delicious, spicy spankings! Maggie was kind enough to lend me one for you readers to set your eyes on! Believe me, it will whet your appetite and have you one-clicking this book, which is a gem itself! Don't say I didn't warn you! Happy reading--and remember: Maggie's next in the series, "Rescuing Ruby Red" will be out soon so get this one now so you're all caught up!

Squeezing her hands, he smiled. "Of course I do… you're not only my partner, you've
managed to worm your way into my heart. Chiquita, if I didn't care, I wouldn't take the time to punish you so you'll remember that stopping to think about your safety is vital so that you won't get hurt."
Her lips twitched. "So, you are going to spank me because you don't want me to get hurt?"
Gabriel felt his own lips twitch and was glad to see her sassiness return. "Cheeky,
chiquita," he said and then nodded. "Sí, voy a darle una nalgada hasta que tu culo esta bien
caliente y rojo."
Her brow furrowed and yet she smiled. "Gabriel, I don't understand Spanish."
Gabriel grinned. "Then, little girl, let me speak in a language that you will definitely be
able to understand." She looked a little dubious but when he guided her across his knees and rested his palm on her bare bottom, she placed her hands flat on the floor and turned her head back.
"Ahora, sir?"
His grin had her heart skip a beat as he nodded and stroked his fingers across her
quivering nates. "Sí, chiquita, ahora."
Lifting his hand, he brought it down with a resounding smack which instantly had her
head dropping down and her right cheek showing the imprint of his hand. Another smack and her left cheek sported its own print; and so her lesson began.
Smack… smack… smack… smack.
"You are important to us."
Smack… smack… smack… smack.
"Your friends care about you."
Smack… smack… smack… smack.
"I care about you."
Smack… smack… smack… smack.
He watched as she began to respond with more than the soft yip. His alternating between
each plump globe had them shaded the same, the pink hue darkening into redness that began to bloom across her bottom.
"Relax your bottom. I want you to show me you understand why you are getting spanked
and accept the lesson."
"But it hurts!" she said as if she were the first person in the world to discover the fact that
a hard hand smacking a bare bottom wasn't done without that very purpose in mind.
"I'm glad, little one, because if it did not, then the lesson would be useless. Unclench your
cheeks." When she tightened her clench instead, he shook his head.
Smack… smack… smack… smack… smack… smack… smack… smack.
These swats peppered down the backs of her thighs to just above her knees and had her
screeching and arching her back, one hand reaching to attempt to push his hand away, and her feet kicking. He responded by placing his leg over her lower back, tugging her wiggling body closer into his waist and repeating the lesson.
Smack… smack… smack… smack… smack… smack… smack… smack.
"Relax your sweet cheeks, Jewel, and I'll return to them. Refuse to do so and I'll continue
to spank your naughty legs. Your choice."

It is always a pleasure to have Renee on my blog! Just look at the wonderful, enticing blurb of her book, "The Don's Daughter"! Made me want to run straight to Amazon and one-click and I'm sure you'll feel the same!

Giving control of her body to Carlo Romano, underboss to her father, was dangerous. More dangerous than her hair­brained idea to take off her clothes at a strip club as a form of sex therapy. But the temptation outweighed the risk. Carlo made her feel sexy, alive and appealing, feelings she’d scarcely known after two years with her cheating and demoralizing ex­boyfriend.

Carlo couldn’t believe Summer--the don’s daughter--was dancing half­naked on the stage of a strip club. Nor could he believe she suggested he’d be the one to take a belt to her ass and set her straight. But he’d had a thing for Summer since the day he moved in with her family, fresh off a plane from Sicily. He couldn’t walk away from the opportunity to get up­close and intimate, and show her his dominant side.

Still, Summer may not be ready for a new relationship, and even if she is, there was the not­so­-small matter of what her parents would say--her father would probably want to kill Carlo if he found out he’d seen her naked...

As if that's not intriguing enough, read on for an inspired excerpt!

He found her lingering in the hall. She must’ve known he’d follow. He grabbed her elbow and steered her into the laundry room and shut the door.
In a flash, he had her pinned against the wall, her wrists pressed over her head, his fingers pinching one of her nipples through her thin cotton t­shirt. Thrusting one leg between her thighs, he leaned down and hissed in her ear, “Do you know what happens to little girls who tease?”

She writhed under him at the pain. “What?”

He yanked her skirt up to her waist and used his foot to shove her feet apart. Bringing the palm of his hand smartly up between her legs, he said, “That’s not the way you answer me.”

Her cheeks had flushed, eyes dilated and glassy.

He slapped her pussy again. The gusset of her panties were already damp.

“No, sir,” she yelped.

He slipped his fingers inside her panties and found her clit.

She gasped, bucking against him.

Another slap between her legs. His teeth nipped her shoulder. “They get their pussies spanked. Hard.”

She arched into him, lifting her breasts to his face. Her pussy opened to his fingers and he shoved two inside, sawing in and out. He pinched her hardened clit and covered her mouth with his hand as she cried out.

“You may not come.” He yanked her panties down to her ankles and made her step out of them.

“What happens if I do?” she gasped.

“You’ll be punished.” Shoving the wad of lace and silk in her mouth, he slapped open her thighs and spanked her clit.

She moaned and panted as he slapped her juicy folds again and again. When her cries grew more desperate, he stopped and released her wrists and stepped back.

“You do not have permission to touch yourself on the way home.” Her face clouded as she realized he wasn’t going to get her off. “Now get in your car and drive straight there. I want to find you naked, on your knees in the corner when I get back or you’ll be in even more trouble than you already are. Got it?” He plucked the panties out of her mouth and tucked them in his pocket.

Her eyes followed them with a pleading look.

He shook his head. “No panties for you. And no touching. I need to hear a yes, sir.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. She shoved her skirt down and straightened her shirt, looking thoroughly chastised. “Yes, sir.”

He snatched her up with an arm around her waist and yanked her body into his.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be sore for a week.”

Her arms came around his neck and she lifted those sweet berry lips for a kiss, lust still swirling in her eyes.

He nipped her lips instead. “Bad girls don’t get kissed. They get fucked. Hard.” He slapped her ass. “Now get home and prepare yourself for me.”

Today I have the talented Kathryn Blake on my blog! Now, everyone in our author community knows that Kathryn is unfailingly helpful and sweet, but she is also a heck of a writer as well, creating memorable heroines and the dominant heroes that love them! This book is no exception!

Sometimes you need to let go of the past to make room for the future.

When Jerry Douglas asks Elly Benson to marry him, he wants their ceremony to be as
close to Valentine's Day as possible. Though Elly tearfully accepts Jerry's proposal
without hesitation, as she readies herself for her second wedding, the doubts and
misgivings of any new bride­to­be are exacerbated by the abuse she suffered during her
first marriage. When Elly recalls how quickly her uncertain stomach jitters grew into
tight knots of pain on her wedding day, she also remembers how and why she'd fallen in
love with and married Arthur, her first husband. A mistake she regrets more and more
with each passing hour.

Though she's lived with Jerry for four months now, and been subject to his discipline
more than once, her first husband had been kind and careful with her, too, in the
beginning. At least until she vowed to love, honor and obey him. And their move to
Corbin's Bend turned him from the strict, but caring husband she thought she'd married
into a monster she no longer recognized.

“What’s wrong?” Jerry asked with a glance at the strewn books before he rose to his feet and centered his gaze directly on her.

Elly groaned. The man was far too perceptive sometimes. “Nothing. I just thought I would drop by and check how you were doing.”

“Uh huh. Care to try that again, sweetheart?”

Her shoulders dropping, Elly confessed, “I think I’m getting another migraine.”

He  crossed  over  and  placed  the  back  of  his  hand  against  her  forehead.  “Take anything for it?”

“No. Not  yet. It only just  started.” Okay, that was a lie, which would get her in even deeper trouble if he found out. She held still beneath his hand, but knew she was flushed, so she suspected he would be escorting her into the bathroom next.

He gave a brisk nod, then grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”

“Jerry,” she protested, but cut off her words with a grimace under his angry glare.

Though he didn’t make taking her temperature a punishment, exactly. He did make it an
exercise in obedience.

She stood in the bathroom while he  retrieved the glass tube, shook it, and then liberally  coated  it  with  lubricating  jelly.  “Pants  and  panties  down,  now,”  he  ordered
without looking at her.

With an inner groan, she obeyed and positioned herself over his knees when he
sat  on  the  toilet.  They’d  done  this  often  enough  after  she’d  been  released  from  the
hospital last October, so she should be used to it by now, but she never got over the way
her former husband had punished her  anally.  Jerry questioned her  almost  every time
they did this, but she was afraid he would decide an anal plug or a fig of ginger was an
excellent  way  to  get  his  point  across,  and  she  didn’t  think  she  could  willingly  accept either of those punishments again.

She grimaced at the feel of thermometer sliding into her, but remained obedient
and compliant. Jerry wasn’t trying to hurt or embarrass her. Not really. He was of the
opinion that rectal temperatures were more accurate, so that’s what he used, and while
they waited, he stroked her back and bottom to help her relax. Despite her uneasiness,
his caresses calmed and centered her until she let out a soft sigh.

“Good girl,” he praised. “You always start out so tense when we do this, and yet
you know I won’t hurt you, so I suspect it’s something Arthur did. We’re getting married
in less than a week, Elly. Don’t you think it’s time you trusted me enough to tell me the
truth?”

To start this week off right, we're going to open with an excerpt from the incomparable Kelly Dawson's book "Code of the West". I don't know about you, but I love a good Western and this one sizzles!

“I’m not a child!” she protested.

“No,” Mr Jordan agreed, sliding down off his gelding. “I wouldn’t do to a child what
I’m about to do to you. What were you thinking? There’s no doctor within 200 miles--you
could have been killed!”

“But I wasn’t,” she pointed out. “We were fine.”
She watched in morbid fascination as Mr Jordan took off his gun belt, draping it over
the saddle of his horse. Then he rolled up his sleeves to the elbows to expose corded,
muscular forearms. He was really going to do it! There were no wooden spoons out here --
was he just going to use his hand? The thought intrigued her. She took in his sheer size, his
incredible strength, his powerful muscles, his well­toned body. She took note of his huge,
calloused hands. She gulped. Somehow, she didn’t think Mr Jordan would need anything
other than the palm of his hand to ignite a fire in her backside.

“I gave you an order,” he told her sternly, but so quietly that she could barely hear him.

“I’m not much good at taking orders.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It was just me and Neil for a long time. I’m not used to being obedient.”

“Well you’re about to learn.”

Woo-wee! That's inspired me to get my very own copy, and if you feel the same just click the picture below to get yours!

Good morning, Saturday Spankers! I have a new release for you that I just know you're going to enjoy!
Shared by Her Soldiers is the story of Kaitlyn Green. When her husband Sean is deployed overseas, he asks his best friend and fellow soldier, Jarrod Peters, to keep his wife in line while he is gone, even if that means taking her over his knee for a good, hard, bare-bottom spanking as often as he feels it necessary. Kaitlyn is less than thrilled by this arrangement, but despite her embarrassment at being treated like a wayward teenager she cannot help growing closer to Jarrod with each passing month.

Upon returning home, it doesn’t take Sean long to realize that while Kaitlyn remains deeply in love with him, she has developed strong feelings for Jarrod as well. Knowing that Kaitlyn is enough of a handful to keep two men busy, Sean discusses the situation with Jarrod and together they decide that the best solution is to share her completely.

Soon Kaitlyn finds herself being soundly spanked by two firm-handed men and then claimed by both of them at once. Though she is amazed by the intense pleasure which results from surrendering to their skilled, dominant lovemaking, Kaitlyn still cannot help wondering if she will truly be able to keep both men in her life forever. Can Sean and Jarrod prove to her that the bond between the three of them will hold no matter what? 

            “So, how should we take care of this?” Jarrod asked, his voice patient and calm, as usual. The only evidence that there was anything amiss was the fact that he kept tapping his foot as he looked at her. It was his tell, her way to know that he was more than a little irked and that her bottom would soon be paying for it.
            “Um…maybe let me off with a warning, just this once?” Kaitlyn suggested, offering her most winning smile. She knew all too well that there was nothing she could say or do that would dissuade him from administering punishment, but at least she would have the satisfaction of knowing that she’d given it her all.
            “I was thinking more along the lines of bent over the couch or across my lap. Your choice.”
            How generous, she thought, squelching the urge to roll her eyes. As much as she wanted to, she knew that Jarrod hated it and would voice his displeasure loud and clear with several sharp smacks to her thighs. If she was lucky, he’d let her keep her panties on, but she was rarely that lucky.
            “Uh, well…” She really was just buying time. It wasn’t that hard of a decision. She knew she would rather go over his lap. Even for a spanking, the experience was made more bearable when she was touching him rather than the cold, hard arm of the couch.
            “Time’s up. What’ll it be?”
            “Your lap, I guess,” she sighed.

Today, I have the book--or, rather collection of books!--that needs no introduction! "Bound, Spanked and Loved" has been topping the charts since it first got on the scene and with good reason! Where else can you get a collection of fourteen--yes, FOURTEEN--books by some of the hottest writers in erotica? I got my copy on preorder and I am STILL reading through it! And enjoying every minute, let me tell you! The collection is only available for a few more days, until March 9th, so if you haven't gotten yours yet, what are you waiting for???


Theirs to Punish by Renee Rose ~ 
Alex gave her a feral grin. “Yes. You’ll be our prisoner for the remainder of the weekend.
We will punish you and use you as we see fit and you will submit to us in everything. Tomorrow night you’ll be our date to the Valentine’s ball. We will release you by noon on Sunday.”

She eyed them warily. “Why do you want me to be your date to the Valentine’s ball?”
The ball was a fundraiser for the democratic presidential candidate, and the reason for the
convergence of so many wealthy and famous people at the Magnifico that weekend.

“Because you’re beautiful,” he answered for Alex. “And famous.”

She licked her lips again, a nervous gesture that was starting to turn him on. He could think
of quite a few uses for that little pink tongue... “You know who I am.” It was more of a
statement of dismay than a question.

“Yes. We will honor your confidentiality, so long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”

Her shoulders slumped. She croaked, “Okay. Please untie me.”

Alex stooped to cut off the zip­ties and gathered her up into his arms, holding her. She
shivered and put her hands on his chest. When she tipped her head up, he claimed her mouth,which she opened for his plundering.

Today I am featuring another excerpt from my newest release, "Kept by her Cowboy Daddy"! This is a sequel to "Her Cowboy Daddy" that released summer of last year. Though it follows Scarlett and Colton and pretty much picks up where the first left off, it also has some new characters! My favorite--she was just so much fun to write!--is Aunt Tish, a firm, no-nonsense British governess who steps in to punish Scarlett when Colton is away.

            “But you already spanked me!”
            “That I did, lovely. But if I recall, I also promised you extras for unnecessarily delaying a well-earned smacking.”
            “But you did smack me.” Scarlett winced the moment the words left her lips. Great, she even had her talking like her now.
            “Of course. And after this, the next time I tell you to get over my knee you’ll be quick about it.”
            Ugh. She didn’t like where this was going! Sure enough, once she’d sat down and pulled Scarlett back over her lap—hadn’t they just done this?!—she reached toward the coffee table where she’d laid out her bag of horrors. Her eyes were riveted to the table as she watched Aunt Tish’s hand hover over one before sliding to the next. When she picked up the one she wanted, a gasp escaped Scarlett’s parted lips.
            “Fancy it, do you?”
            Aunt Tish flicked her wrist, testing it. At the sound of the leather strap whipping through the air, Scarlett closed her eyes. She couldn’t look anymore. Her heart had already sunk to her stomach, she didn’t think it could go any lower than that.
            “This one, let’s just say it’s very dear to my heart. I’m sure you’ll find that, even if you don’t particularly fancy it, it does a brilliant job of getting naughty miscreants back in line. See if you don’t agree when we’re through.”
            Before Scarlett could say that she believed her, no demonstration necessary, the crack of the leather rang throughout the room. It was louder, it seemed to her ears, than the cry she let out when she felt its sting. She’d wondered briefly—in-between worrying about what implement she was going to be faced with—why Aunt Tish hadn’t bothered to pull back her dress. Now she had her answer, as contact with the implement was being focused solely on the backs of her legs which she could get to perfectly well.