Federal Discipline, Spanked by the F.B.I

Case Agent Jack Harley never wanted a female rookie. He certainly didn’t want a hot little smart ass like Jamie Black. She’s devious, disrespectful – and damn good at her job, which puts Jack between a rock and a hard place when it comes to the decision of whether or not to keep her around.

If he’s going to be stuck with the young agent, Jack decides there’s one thing for it. Good sound spankings – a lot of them. He’s a dominant man and he makes no apologies for it. As their relationship deepens, that domination extends outside the realm of the purely professional and into the bedroom, the one place Jamie can actually behave herself.

When a string of murders takes place, Jack and Jamie are drawn into a dangerous underworld of cult violence. And when Jamie herself becomes a target of a murderous mastermind, it becomes imperative they crack the case before their budding relationship is cut terminally short.

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The Barbarian’s Bride #1 In Historical Erotica

Making personal history for the author, The Barbarian’s Bride has reached #1 in Amazon’s Historical Erotica category. Woo!

That warrants more excerptyness:

“I can see you, little witch,” he growled. “Front and center. Now!”

A slim, comely woman came out from her hiding place and wandered toward him without the slightest sense of urgency. Her demeanor seemed to say ‘yes, and what of it’. No question had yet been asked of her, but defiance was in every line of her attractive frame.

“What were you doing?” Rikiar asked the question, then held his hand up to stay the inevitable response. “Spying, I’ll warrant.”

“She’s beautiful,” Mara confessed without any guilt. “I wanted to see you take her.”

“Shameless!” Rikiar declared. “If you wish to experience such intimacies, you need only report to your betrothed.”

“My betrothed is not a princess,” Mara smiled prettily. Oh Mara was naughty and got away with far too much. As a member of Rikiar’s household, her discipline came under his purview. He had clearly been too forgiving of late, for he did not sense even a glimmer of remorse.

“There have been too many complaints about your behavior,” he said, “and now you do this. Come with me this instant.”

“Come with you?” Mara’s brows rose and she covered a laugh behind her pretty hand. “I see you do not wish to beat me here, lest your lady love hear.”

“Come now, Mara,” Rikiar growled. He strode to the room where he made ready for hunt or for battle, a room with all manner of weapons on the walls. Mara was not intimidated by any of it, for she knew very well that she was only there to meet his palm.

“Bend over that stool,” Rikiar ordered.

She obeyed, but with an expression of insolence, which made raising her skirts and baring her naked cheeks all the more satisfying. Clamping one hand at the back of her slim neck to ensure her continued cooperation, Rikiar laid his palm across her pale bottom once, twice, three times with the fullest of force.

Pick up a copy of The Barbarian’s Bride here!

Toppiness and Spanking and Barbarians and Excellent Erotica News

“I am sorry, m’lord,” Aisling breathed.

“I don’t think you are,” Rikiar said. “You are still too wet to be sorry.” He let the pads of his fingers slide over her outer lips in a soft caress. “Look at you, spread, wet, your sheath ready for my sword, but for that pesky little bit of skin.”

Aisling hissed in a breath as his fingers once more probed inside her, finding her hymen.

“This will stay intact for the moment,” he said, sliding his fingers out again, then in a little ways, then out again, treating her to a little taste of what it would be like when his flesh speared inside her. It felt quite wonderful, so much so that Aisling was soon lifting her hips, presenting her pussy as his prize.

“You want to cum, don’t you,” Rikiar drawled in that husky voice. “You want to have your pussy played with until you clench and scream and spend yourself all over me.” A sharp slap to her bottom followed the words. “But you’ve been naughty, Aisling, and naughty princesses have their bottoms spanked.”


That was an excerpt from my latest historical erotica book, The Barbarian’s Bride, which is currently enjoying the #2 spot in Historical Erotica, as well as top 40 rankings in Amazon’s BDSM erotica and Romantic erotica categories. In other news of resounding toppiness, I’ve reached #96 in the Top 100 Erotica authors on Amazon.com for the first time, which is most exciting. Thank you to all you wonderful readers who buy the books I so very much enjoy writing!

A Princess Sold… A Barbarian’s Bride

“Tonight we sell a princess!”

A rough laugh went up among the crowd. Thanks to a torch held by the slaver, casting a circle of light beyond which darkness fell thick, Aisling could not see beyond the first row of men, but she sensed there were many dozens of people waiting to purchase female flesh.

“The bidding starts at a hundred gold pieces, which will earn you not just the virginity of Claddaugh’s only princess, but her father’s ire—and claim to his kingdom should you sire a son.”

A nasty, carnal roar emerged from the bidders.

“She’s a pretty one, nicely submissive, not inclined to give you trouble.” The slaver turned her about, lifted what remained of her skirts and exposed her behind to the crowd. “A pretty rump to boot,” he said, slapping her as if she were a filly at market. Aisling squeaked and the crowd rumbled with predatory glee like a pack of wolves waiting for her tender flesh.

“A hundred gold pieces!” A rough voice called out.

“Two hundred!” Another male voice sounded in the darkness.

“Three hundred!”

The bidding was fast and furious, but it came to an abrupt end when a voice that had not spoken before rang out with a clear baritone.

“Three thousand.”

The crowd fell silent. Aisling saw the slaver’s eyes glitter with greed.

“Sold!” he cried out. “Sold to Chief Rikiar Ravenblack!”

Grumbling with jealousy, the crowd parted to allow a strange party of men through. They were all tall and broad with long dark braided hair and flashing eyes, save for one whose hair was red. Each of their faces was daubed blue and gold and they wore animal hides and furs instead of cloth, which to Aisling’s tired, hysterical gaze made them seem more like beasts than men.

Aisling shrank away from them in fear, but the slaver cut his lash against her thigh and drove her forward into the arms of her new owners…


After she is kidnapped by her father’s enemies and sold to the barbarian chief Rikiar, Princess Aisling finds that life as a barbarian’s bride is quite different than the one to which she was previously accustomed. To her dismay, the once pampered princess soon learns that the barbarian chief is not to be trifled with and any disobedience will earn her a sound spanking on her bare bottom. 

Her days are certainly less boring than when she was cooped up behind castle walls, and since her warrior husband’s fierce lovemaking is beyond anything the virgin princess ever imagined, her nights are far more exciting as well. Though much is expected of her—she must both satisfy Rikiar’s voracious appetites in the bedroom and train to wield a sword—Aisling perseveres and before long she feels a strength growing in her heart which makes her proud. 

But when Aisling’s father demands her return and wages war against Rikiar and his people, she fears for Rikiar’s life. Can she trust her judgment and her courage to protect her newfound people, save her husband, and safeguard their love from those who wish to destroy it? 

Read more or get a copy of The Barbarian’s Bride here!

How To Catch A Cowgirl

Tamsan smiled a slow, sexy smile. “I want to get to know you better,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you, but you’re not living up to most of the hype.”


“The way your ranch hands were talking the whole place was supposed to be up in flames by now. You have yourself a wild reputation, missy.”

Anna smiled into her beer. “I was a handful when I was younger. Maybe a few of them knew me then.”

“I’d say they did,” Tamsan said. “They’ve been waiting for you to go off the rails since you got here.”

“Well I’d hate to disappoint them,” Anna said. “What should I do? Dance naked on the table? Set a trash can on fire? Rustle a couple head of cattle?”

“I wouldn’t recommend any of those options,” Tamsan said, a hint of sternness sneaking back into her tone. “You can have fun without being a hot mess.”

“What are your suggestions then?”

Tamsan beckoned Anna forward and lowered her voice to a sultry drawl. “You could kiss me.”

Anna’s eyes widened. She wanted to kiss Tamsan, but the direct approach left her somewhat on the back foot. Her lips parted once, twice as she tried to find the words. Then it didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter because Tamsan had reached forward, hooked her fingers inside Anna’s shirt and drawn her forward into a warm, soft kiss which made Anna’s sense and objections and thoughts melt into a hot honey goo which trickled down her spine and settled in her loins.


Country mouse turned city girl, Anna got out of rural Texas as soon as she was old enough to leave. Like a lot of wide-eyed young lesbians she was drawn by the West coast’s big cities and bustling sapphic community – which was all too happy to welcome her in, chew her up and spit her out.

After a string of failed relationships and the passing of her father, the care of ten thousand acres of Texas ranch just fell to her. Anna’s not much of a cowgirl, in fact she has trouble getting her horse pointed in the right direction. So when her cattle go astray and her horse bolts, she’s more than relieved when the day is saved by a gorgeous tall blonde cowgirl named Tamsan – a woman who knows exactly who Anna is, and exactly how much trouble she can be.

Tamsan is feminine but strong, capable and in control. She likes to be in charge just as much as Anna likes having things her own way. Erotic sparks fly between the two women who quickly become lovers and are then left with the challenge of how to manage both their relationship and the failing ranch.

Get How To Catch A Cowgirl, or download a sample by clicking here!

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!

Taking The Top, Lesbian Erotic Interlude

Sometimes a bottom gets a little out of hand. Sometimes she thinks she can turn the tables on her top. Naughty Anna is about to discover her place when she tries that on Tamsan* in this excerpt from my latest WIP.

Tamsan stood next to the bed fully dressed, shirt, jeans, buckle, boots and all. “Get dressed, we’ll walk over to your place.”

“Ugh, dressed,” Anna said. “Clothes are so restrictive and pointless.” She reached for Tamsan’s hand and tugged the woman down atop her naked frame. “Why don’t you take those clothes off and see how free you feel?”

Tamsan’s lips covered hers in a hot kiss. “Tempting,” she murmured against Anna’s mouth. “But we really should get to work.”


A Quiet Little Domestic Discipline Town…

In a town where everybody practices domestic discipline, a girl needs to be careful about who she tests…

Annika hesitated in the hallway. She’d put a skirt on and she was glad she had, for in the interim someone new had arrived. She only saw the back of his head and his shoulders, but she already didn’t like him. He was too broad, too wide, too fat, and American. Like the man she’d come to meet, the man who’d turned out to be nothing like he’d pretended to be online.

The man Annika was supposed to meet was twenty-eight years old, a professional with his own home and a sports car. In his pictures he’d looked handsome. A man with a full head of dark hair and brown eyes. A lot like Steven Soames actually looked. She’d become quite fond of the man who sent her the nice emails, who told her how much he was looking forward to making her his wife and how happy she would be with him. For months, Annika had built up a picture of the life she would lead when she reached America, and the man who was rescuing her from her drab, dour, and deprived existence in Russia.

It had all fallen apart the moment she set foot on US soil. The man who had met her at the airport was at least fifty, three hundred pounds, and smelled of cheese. He owned a mid-sized sedan and lived in a noisy, rented apartment. He was a liar. A liar who stole her passport, told her to ‘get over it’ and wanted to have sex within hours of meeting. He was grabby and greasy and she’d only barely fought him off before running away.

“Annika?” Steven stepped around the corner and gave her a reassuring smile. “We’re about to eat, but first, come meet John. He’s Mary’s husband.”

Hearing their conversation, the man named John stood up and turned around. She realized she’d made a mistake in judging him so quickly. He was nothing like the man Annika had come to marry. He wasn’t fat, he was just… huge.

“Hello, Annika.”

He didn’t smile. Neither did she. He was looking at her with an analytical gaze, taking her apart piece by piece. She was doing the same. She reached her conclusion before he did.

“Police,” she said. “You are police.”
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