A Princess Is Taken By Two Kings….

She had thought it must be a dream when two large men appeared in her chamber. Elizabeth still wasn’t sure. She could feel the floor at her back and the hilt of the ornate blade in her hands. They both felt real, but dreams could be vivid and surely there could not be two kings of opposing kingdoms arguing over her in the middle of the night? Had the war truly come so close to home? It had been raging on many fronts for quite some time. She had been cloistered away for several months in the tower, restricted to activities such as sewing and singing, and her father had forbidden any news be given to her. He did not want her to worry about such things, so he said. Some of her maids had whispered little bits and pieces to her, but she had never known quite what to believe.

Now she did not know if she could believe her own eyes – though she recognized both men from the tales which were widely told about them. The tall one could be no other than King Milo Lionheart. He wore the sigil of a rampant winged lion upon his chest and he was just as handsome as was told of in the songs the bards sang. If they had met under more refined circumstances she would have been very pleased to make his acquaintance.

She met his blue gaze, saw in it desire and some good humor. It was enough to make her clench her thighs together, both to preserve what was left of her modesty, and to hide the way her nethers were responding.

Her eyes darted from Milo to the other man, King Ragnar. She would have wanted her dagger at her side regardless of the time and place of their meeting. He had an air of rough danger that was palpable and he made her quiver in quite a different way than Milo. Now she met his dark gaze, she felt her body responding yet again. It was a forceful, primal reaction which had nothing to do with sense and everything to do with her animal form.

“You are being rather naughty, princess,” Milo purred. “Put down the knife and save more unnecessary unpleasantness.”

It was difficult to keep her eyes on both men, standing as they were on either side of her. Escape was impossible. She knew that she would be taken. She should lower her knife and accept her fate, but she could not. The excitement and the fear were far too great. Both these men, these proud kings were looking at her with a carnal hunger which made every part of her tremble.

She saw a glance pass between them a moment before Milo leaned toward her again. She swiped at him with the knife, a motion which made her roll toward him. In that moment of exposure, Ragnar’s hard hand came down across her bottom in a slap which sent a sudden shock through her body and a flash of heat across her cheeks. It was enough to make her grip on the knife loosen, and to distract her so that Milo could pluck the hilt of it from her hands, neatly disarming her.

He smiled down at her with warm triumph as her hands went back to cover her now stinging bottom.

“You are fools,” she hissed angrily, fear rising strongly as she realized she was now totally at their mercy. “A pretty boy and a bandit. I will not be had by either one of you.”

Milo shook his head at her, blonde strands of hair falling into his piercing eyes for a moment before he pushed them back. “Now, princess,” he said in his cultured tones. “Be a good girl and mind your tongue.”

“I will not be a good girl, and certainly not for you,” she threw back rebelliously. “I was not raised to be some meek woman as you have in your countries, too afraid to speak or show themselves in the light of day. The blood of four royal houses runs in my veins. I…”

Her proud speech was cut short as the barbarian behind her sat down on the bed, took hold of her by the upper arm and unceremoniously pulled her up from the floor and then over his lap. She found her naked body pressed against his leather clad thighs and his iron slab abdominal plane. He had no pretty words for her. Instead his palm met her bare bottom as he started to spank her.

“What are you doing!?” She made the inquiry at the top of her lungs. Elizabeth had never been punished in her life. Being struck by the barbarian king was not only painful and embarrassing, it was utterly confusing. The physical sensations were powerful, a heat searing through her skin, making it feel hot and tight and an ache in the flesh below, the muscle of her bottom contracting sharply with every single slap.

“You pulled a blade,” Ragnar growled. “And you have an insolent tongue. This is punishment for both sins.”

Elizabeth struggled to free herself, but he seemed to be infinitely powerful. Her naked form was no match for his muscle. He clamped an arm about her waist and she was locked in place, her legs flailing as she kicked and squirmed furiously.

“Unhand me, brute!”

Her words were met with a slap to her upper thigh. Elizabeth let out a shriek. She had not known that it was possible to feel such a sudden sharp bolt of pain. It was as though she could feel each place his fingers had landed individually.

“You are tender, princess,” Ragnar said, his large rough hand passing over her bottom and thigh, rubbing the spot he had spanked. “You skin is soft and your flesh is unaccustomed to chastisement. You should be more careful of what comes out of your mouth.”

She let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a whimper. It was most frustrating and humbling to be pinned against the body of a powerful man who was insisting she show him respect and deference though he was nothing but a brutish invader.

He spanked her until the heat grew so great she was certain her bottom was swollen beyond all measure. Her body had ceased to be hers and only responded to him. His touch, the slaps of his hard hand which set a rhythm that felt more primal than her own heartbeat. Her hips jolted with it, the hard little bud which usually hid in the folds of her womanhood becoming erect and grazing against his thigh with every single slap.

She was aware of Milo’s eyes on her. It would have been bad enough to have been spanked by a barbarian king, but to know she was under a debonair blue gaze, to be made to feel so very small and so very naughty made her feel thoroughly chastised.

Did he know? There was something in his eyes when she glanced at him briefly through her cascading hair which told her that she could have little in the way of secrets from such a man. It was difficult to put coherent thoughts together when her bare form was still being so thoroughly punished by the barbarian.

The liquid trickling between her lower lips was a concern. She had felt herself become damp before when gazing at particularly stimulating men, but she had never been this wet. It was as though some wicked imp had turned a pump on between her thighs and made desire flow from the very core of her.

*****

After her homeland is conquered by two powerful kings, eighteen-year-old Princess Elizabeth of Ammerdale finds herself taken captive in her own castle. Rather than fight over her, the two rulers decide to form an alliance and claim Elizabeth as their shared bride, but they quickly discover that the beautiful maiden will need to be tamed.

Though they have little else in common, the sophisticated Milo Lionheart and the fierce warrior Ragnar are united by their willingness to strip Elizabeth bare and spank her soundly as often as necessary to teach her obedience. Despite her blushing protests, the stern dominance of her handsome husbands arouses the young princess deeply, and soon she is begging for more as their masterful lovemaking brings her to one shattering climax after another.

Not everyone in Ammerdale is happy with the match, however, and when a treacherous foe seeks to seize the throne for himself it puts the growing bond between Elizabeth, Milo, and Ragnar to the test. Will the two kings stand together to protect their realm and their woman?

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Spanked By A Dominant Firefighter…

“John!” She said his name as if saying it would somehow get her out of trouble.

He marched her into the house without speaking, where he wasted no time whatsoever in sitting down and taking her over his knee. Sarah tumbled over his lap with a wail of complaint, limbs flailing, but it didn’t do her any good. She was still wearing the sweatpants he’d gotten for her, which made it easy to bare her bottom and start spanking her deserving cheeks with hard slaps that left bright pink palm prints across her pale skin.

Sarah put up quite a fight, squirming and cursing and kicking out until he had to put one of his legs over hers and clamp her thighs between his. That left her in a much more precarious position, her butt raised higher than before, her hands supporting her on the carpet, her hair falling into her face as John set about really tanning her hide, his palm finding her bare bottom over and over again with unerring accuracy, which made her voice rise in feminine protest.

Read more of this extended excerpt for The Firefighter’s Woman!

Tamed by the Bear – Hot New Erotic Shifter Romance

When twenty-one-year-old Riley Reynolds decides to take a year off from college to study grizzlies, she chooses Black Falls, Wyoming as her base of operations. But after the local sheriff, Ethan Stone, hears about her plans, the handsome lawman warns her sternly that if he catches her anywhere near a bear she’ll be in for a long, hard spanking she won’t soon forget.

Not taking the sheriff’s threat seriously, Riley sets out into the nearby national forest to get started, but when she stumbles upon a mama grizzly and her cub she finds herself in terrible danger. Her life is saved by the arrival of an even larger, more fearsome bear, but to her shock the massive beast transforms in front of her eyes and moments later Ethan stands before her.

The shifter sheriff tosses Riley over his shoulder and wastes no time in bringing her back to his den, where he promptly strips her naked and chastises her thoroughly for her foolishness. A painful, embarrassing spanking is only the beginning of her punishment, however, and soon enough Riley is blushing crimson and quivering with desire as Ethan takes her harder and more fiercely than she would have ever thought possible.

Now that he has claimed her as his mate, Riley quickly discovers that Ethan will expect her complete submission, yet even as she rebels against his strict rules she cannot deny her body’s response to his skillful, dominant lovemaking. But with a vicious poacher prowling the woods and killing for sport, can Ethan tame his feisty mate before her disobedience gets them both hurt or killed?

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Spanked by A Marine – The Marine’s Pet, Sexy Pet Play Erotica

Artist Sarah Digby has always been a free spirit. Maybe the parties she throws get a little too loud and run a little too late, and maybe her little dog has become something of an unholy terror in the neighborhood, but that certainly doesn’t give anybody the right to march into her house and scold her like a naughty child.

But Sarah’s neighbor Austin Black isn’t just anybody, he is a Marine Corps sergeant used to giving orders and having them obeyed. When he finally has enough of her bratty behavior and sassy attitude and takes matters into his own hands, she soon finds herself bare-bottomed over his firm thighs, receiving the first spanking of her life. Afterwards, Austin informs Sarah that from now on he’ll be keeping her in line personally.

In spite of everything, Austin’s dominance leaves Sarah longing for more, and as her submission grows deeper she is surprised to notice that her art begins to flourish like never before. But when Austin makes it clear that he wants her not only as his lover but also as his pet—a pet he will cherish and care for but also train and punish when needed—Sarah is unsure if she is ready to belong to him so completely. Can a girl like her truly surrender her heart to a man who will expect her to kneel at his feet and come when she is called?

This book is out now! Click here to get your copy :)

Meeting Her Mate – And Her Match

“Hello.”

A deep voice emanated from the other side of the room. Lyra gasped and turned, noticing her companion for the first time.

It was a man. He was a good two feet taller than her and judging by his physique he was also a fighter. His shoulders were great bull-like rounds of muscle, his torso a ripple of muscles. She could not see below his waist due to his pants, but the breadth of them told her that the conditioning went all the way down. He was viscerally appealing in body. As he drew closer, she was able to see his face. He had a hard face, chin and jaw covered in just a little more than 5 o’clock shadow. His nose was flattened at the bridge, likely from being broken at some point, and his high cheek bones were marked with the faint stripes of scars. His hair was dark and tousled, his eyes a piercing pale blue even in that low light. Lyra felt her innards responding to him on a purely animal level. He was the first human, let alone first man she’d seen in many, many years.

“Who are you?”

“Name’s Rake,” he said, leaving the fireplace where he had been standing to come closer to her. He moved with an athletic prowl which completely transfixed her. “You’re Lyra,” he said as he came within arm’s length of her. “I’ve seen you fight.”

His tone indicated he wasn’t that impressed by her fighting. There was a slight curl to his lip as he said the word, as if he were putting invisible air quotes around the word. “Fight.”

Instantly on the defensive, Lyra moved back a little, not because she was afraid of him, but because she was going to need the range when she kicked him in the face. He closed the distance. She opened it again. He was much more intimidating up close. She could now see that much of his body was trammeled by scars, some quite thick and jagged. He had obviously seen a great deal of combat in his life, more than she had likely.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Remember you?” Lyra curled her lip up at him. “I’ve never met you before.”

“The night you were taken, you don’t remember someone else being there?”

She frowned. “I don’t… I don’t remember the night I was taken.”

He seemed disappointed to hear that, as if she’d failed some test she didn’t know she’d been taking.

“What are you doing?” She asked the question as he took yet another step toward her.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” He stopped for a moment. “They want us to breed.”

Shock made Lyra’s jaw drop. She stared at him blankly log enough for him to start smirking. A little tingling in her nether regions indicated that her body was not entirely against the idea, but her mind was overruling her baser impulses on this one. There was no way… there was just no way.

“Joke’s on them,” Lyra replied. “I was given the implant back on Earth. There’s about as much a chance of me falling pregnant by you as there is me sleeping with you in the first place.”

Rake’s eyes narrowed at her. “You’re rude.”

“What’s rude about that? Do the women usually just lie back and spread their legs for you when you tell them that you’re going to have sex with them? Or have you confused me for a blow up doll?”

Lyra had spent many hours alone thinking about what it would be like if she ever laid eyes on another human. This was not how she had ever pictured it, but Rake had a serious sexual charge about him which scared her more than any alien monster and it was making her defensive, and yeah, maybe a little rude.

He gave her a long, steady look, those icy eyes cutting to her core. She stared back at him, hoping she looked as scary to him as he looked to her, but knowing that was unlikely to be the case. It was hard to make big brown eyes and a round face look frightening. The only weapon she had was her tongue, and she was going to use it.

“How many women have you had in here?” She continued talking, using questions as a defence. The longer they talked, the better chance she had of dealing with him. She let her gaze run up and down the length of his person in a way she hoped would cut him down to size. “You don’t seem like someone who gets laid a lot.”

The smirk returned to his devilishly handsome face. “Why do you say that?”

“Because a man who gets laid a lot doesn’t just come out and say he’s going to breed with you.”

“What does a man who gets laid a lot do?”

“I don’t know,” she frowned. “Not walk around half-naked. Not… be you.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly, as if he was unable to believe what he was being confronted with.

“I’m important,” she said, trying to claw back a little respect. “And you’re not.”

His lips spread in a dark smile. “Arrogant little wretch, aren’t you.”

“It’s not arrogance if it’s true.”

“You’re as important as a pit dog,” he said in crushing tones. “To them you’re nothing more than a bitch to be mated. They threw you in here for me to do with you as I will. All they care about is that by the end of this my seed gets shot deep inside you.”

Excerpt from The Rebel’s Mate…

Abducted from Earth by tentacled humanoids, small town girl Lyra finds herself in the belly of an interstellar transporter and entirely at the mercy of a race of creatures beyond her wildest nightmares. Temporarily deprived of sight by the aliens, her only solace during the journey to a far-off planet is found in the soothing arms of an unseen man who, despite sharing her current circumstances, promises that one day he will rescue her.

Three years later, Lyra has accepted being put to use as a gladiator in an interspecies competition waged for the amusement of her alien masters. But when her owner decides to mate Lyra with another champion fighter, she unexpectedly finds herself face to face with Rake, the very man who once vowed to rescue her. Unfortunately, all memory of him and her abduction has long since been erased by her captors.

Lyra is not pleased to find herself confronted by six feet of arrogant male muscle and she’s even less pleased when the stranger informs her that he intends to mate her, but her displeasure turns to true fury when he takes her hostage and escapes with her. Her mind having been thoroughly addled by the aliens, Lyra resists her rescuer and sets about making Rake’s life as difficult as possible. To her shock and embarrassment, when her defiance continues Rake bares her bottom, puts her over his knee, and gives her the spanking of her life.

Despite her best efforts to hate him, over the course of several near death escapes from their alien pursuers Lyra begins to realize that Rake is everything she’s ever wanted and needed in a man. When he claims her at last, the intense pleasure of his dominant lovemaking nearly causes her to forget that they’re running for their lives. But can Rake truly keep his promise to bring Lyra safely home once and for all, or will their desperate bid for freedom end in disaster?

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The Trouble With Spanking Romance

Spanking Romance is more difficult to write than vanilla romance for one reason: readers want to read about a deserving heroine being disciplined by her lover. Sounds hot, right? Of course. Writing a spanking romance means that it is your responsibility to concoct a scenario in which there is some reason for the heroine to be spanked. And that is where the difficulty comes in, because you have to write a character who is naughty enough to be spanked, but not so flawed that people think spanking is too good for her. And you have to write a top who is dominant enough to make the juices flow, but not so dominant that he’d be slapped with a restraining order in real life. It’s a fine line – and it has a whole lot of even finer hairline cracks running off of it.

If the heroine is too naughty as a result of ineptitude, she becomes more an object of pity and concern than a relatable figure. Anastasia in Fifty Shades of Grey begins her journey by being unable to brush her own hair or walk through a doorway without tripping. I stopped reading at that point, because it was obvious that Christian’s attraction to her had to be based on the fact that she had the motor skills of a two hour old foal. Obviously this didn’t dissuade many tens or hundreds of thousands of other readers, but it was an issue for me, ’cause when you’re a reader, you get to be picky. When you’re an author, you know that the reader has the right to be picky, and you also know that there’s no way on earth to satisfy everyone. (In fact, satisfying one reader may very well cause other readers to hate your face, but that’s another post.)

If a heroine’s naughtiness is based on a character flaw like being selfish or spoiled, that will work, but you better find a whole lot of redemption somewhere along the line. The Brat, the Bodyguard and the Bounty Hunter is one book I wrote where I used the poor spoiled little rich girl archetype, which made for some scenes of much deserved and very sound bare bottom spanking. The heroine Fiona might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but that doesn’t matter because she probably owns the field your tea was grown in anyway.

If the heroine actually isn’t all that badly behaved, you run the risk of having the spanker hero perceived as a domineering monster. A lot of people actually quite like domineering monsters, but an equal number of people are horrified by them, so you can end up caught between two stools if your top is perceived as more of an asshole than a dominant. This applies to female tops too.

Sometimes it is interesting to see how a dominant is perceived by readers. It can be quite different than the way the author intended. Ayla, the ancient forest witch from ‘Over Witch’s Knee‘ kidnaps the heroine Atrocious and seduces her immediately. Her motivations for this are dubious at best, but she’s just so charming that people seem to forgive her, even when it turns out that she has a tendency to sell her pets (and by pets, I mean the waifs and strays she seduces) to traveling warrior women.

It’s also possible to throw caution to the wind and simply have your heroine be a hilariously messed up wreck. Zora Matthews from the Military Discipline series fits that role perfectly. Yes, she’s a mathematical savant, but she’s also a drunk, disobedient to a fault and basically the hero’s worst nightmare. The relationship between Brett Savage and Zora is somewhat akin to the relationship between a firefighter and a burning coal seam. But hey, it works for them.

And finally, there’s the ‘that’s just how things are done here’ line of attack, which I took in Mail Order Brat. Yes, Annika is feisty and naughty, a tough little survivor who does what needs to be done, but even if she weren’t, most everyone in Sweetville gets spanked anyway. Even the women who don’t spend Sunday Church sessions making paper planes to throw at the pastor.

It ain’t easy being naughty, that’s what I’m saying – and it even ain’t easier, wait, ain’t even… hmm… let’s just say it’s no easier on the top side. Just as well it’s fun!

Romantic Good Girl Spanking…

He was glad he’d insisted on more modest clothing. If she’d been wearing that short skirt, he would have been able to see everything she had, or at least, the panties covering everything she had. As it was, he could feel the twin rounds of her bottom, pert cheeks squirming underneath his palm. She was in good shape. Athletic. He liked the way her her fell in auburn waves over her shoulders and neck, draping toward the floor where her palms were splayed.

“Have you been spanked before?”

“Nyet.”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re the mischievous type.” He patted her bottom lightly, trying to avoid the temptation to caress her cheeks – and failing.

“I am a good girl,” she said, her voice slightly muffled. “I study hard. I work hard. Only when I come here, to America am I bad. I break the rules. I leave the man I promise to marry. I steal food. I break into cars. I…”

“You did what you had to do to survive. You don’t have to do any of that anymore.” He slapped her bottom lightly. She didn’t yelp or growl or complain. She relaxed. He felt her settle over his lap and sigh softly, her thighs spreading a little as the tension drained from her body.

He began spanking her firmly, sound slaps landing against the lower curve of her cheeks, one to each side, back and forth in a disciplinary tattoo. He expected complaint as his palm grew warmer, but there was none. Glancing in the mirror across the room, Steven saw that her eyes were closed and there was a little smile on her face.

*****

Sweetville is a traditional little town, a place where domestic discipline is as much a part of the social fabric as the church, the women’s society and apple pie. It’s about to gain a new citizen, one who may not be ready for Sweetville just as much as Sweetville may not be ready for her.

Soon after leaving her native Russia to marry an American, Annika discovers that her husband-to-be is a liar and a cheat. Rather than return home, she runs away and begins living on the streets. When she is caught by Pastor Steven Soames while breaking into his car looking for a place to sleep, she expects the worst—arrest and deportation—but instead the handsome preacher invites her to his house for a warm meal.

Annika finds trouble quickly and often, forcing Steven to chastise her ever more firmly, but the small-town preacher and the feisty Russian brat soon find themselves falling in love in spite of—or perhaps because of—her need to be taken in hand. But when Steven proposes, Annika cannot help but worry that he is only offering marriage out of pity in order to let her stay in America. Can she bring herself to put aside her fears and trust the man who has claimed her heart?

Read the tale of Annika and Steven here…

The Lord’s Bride | Medieval Spanking Romance

Brand spanking new, but set in the proverbial olden days, The Lord’s Bride is my latest spanking romance, published by Stormy Night.

When Mary de Vere’s closest companion Martin de Stafford—whom she secretly loves—is stolen from her by his long-promised marriage to another woman, eighteen-year-old Mary believes things can get no worse… until an assassin’s blade takes her father’s life. The laws of the land place her under the authority of her heartless uncle, but even as her world falls apart around her, Mary vows to one day reclaim her rights and her title.

Years later, Martin, now the Sheriff of Staffordshire and a widower since illness claimed his wife, encounters his childhood friend in the unlikeliest of places: a convent. Though Mary plays the part of a simple woman who dreams of becoming a nun, Martin is far from convinced. He knows the feisty girl far too well to believe that she aspires to a life of service in the church, and in any case, he has another future to offer her—a future as his wife.

When she spurns his affections, Martin only grows more determined to unravel her plot, and at last Mary is caught red-handed in an act of banditry. To save herself from the dungeon, she is left with no choice but to submit to the very thing she once longed for: marriage to Martin de Stafford. Mary soon learns that her new husband is more than her match and that from now on her bare bottom will pay the price for her scheming. In spite of her pride, Martin’s firm chastisement enflames her lust for him, but can she truly force herself to put aside the wrongs of the past and lay claim to a life at the side of the man she always wanted?

Get a copy of The Lord’s Bride on Amazon, or download a sample!