Release
Date: December 7th.
Links:
Blurb:
Mischief
Under the Mistletoe: Fourteen fierce festive stories in one AMAZING anthology
extravaganza, fresh from international and number one bestselling authors alongside
hot new talent! Editor’s Note: These delightfully naughty Christmas spanking
stories feature scorching romance and BDSM. Some involve age play, all involve
spanking. There’s also a bit of LGBT+, some magic, and a drunken incident with
a photocopier. If this isn’t your scene, it might be better to find a nice book
about knitting lamp shades, instead.
Featured authors:
Maren Smith, Amelia Smarts,
Allysa Hart, Delia Grace, Shelly Douglas, Gracie Malling, Joelle Casteel,
Brandy Golden, Kelly Dawson, Sheri Lynn, Jaye Elise, Kathryn R. Blake, Molly
Alvarado and Katie Douglas
Individual Blurbs
Maren Smith, The Doll-Maker
Amelia Smarts, Abby’s Wish
Delia Grace, The Chalet
Jaye Elise, The Kink of the Magi
Shelly Douglas, Christmas With a Little Twist
Sammie
and Jessie Woods are twenty-eight-year-old twins from New York City who moved
across the country to marry Trent and Pete Reynolds, the handsome, rugged owners
of the XR Dude Ranch in Tucson, Arizona, and the couples can’t wait to spend
the upcoming holidays together. But when a visitor makes an unexpected call to
their ranch on Christmas Day, everyone’s outlook on life is changed forever.
Gracie Malling, All Work and No Play
Molly Alvarado, Her Christmas Daddy
Life just wasn't the same for Jenny after losing her Dom. Any
sense of holiday spirit she may have had fizzled away with his loss. When her
local mall posts a job listing for an elf to assist Santa, it may be just what
she needs. Will Jenny find her Daddy Dom during the most magical time of the
year or is she doomed to hate Christmas forever?
Joelle Casteel, Santa Dom
Christmas only brings haunting sadness for Marlie Grayson
until her new boarder moves in upstairs. Max Quenton is a very protective,
dominant male determined to help Marlie heal her broken heart and restore the
magic of Christmas with love.
Kelly Dawson, A Naughty Little Christmas
Sheri Lynn, Rebecca the Red-Bottomed Reindeer
Allysa Hart, Santa’s “Little” Helpers
Kathryn R. Blake, A Naughty New Year
Katie Douglas, His Christmas Baby
For Chloe, Christmas has
always been a time of trauma and sorrow. When her Dom transforms her into his
little girl for the 12 days before Christmas, beginning as a baby and getting a
year older each day, can he help her overcome the ghost of Christmas past?
Excerpts/Bios/Social Media
Maren Smith, The Doll-Maker
“I like it too,” Calder said, alternately
smoothing and shaving and smoothing again as he carved delicate collarbones
beneath her slender neck and rounded her shoulders. He gave her breasts
definition, something he hadn’t bothered to do on any of his previous dolls.
Because they were dolls, and in his mind the only thing worse than the kind of
pervert who’d pull his artwork off the mantel to check how anatomically correct
it might be beneath its clothing, was the pervert who made it anatomically
correct in the first place.
You’re going to sell me? An imagination was a terrible thing, especially when it
made poor Ailsa’s voice in his head crack with worry.
“Never,” he assured her. “You’re for me
and me alone.”
The icing on the crazy cake. He really
was playing with dolls; his mom would be so… well, all right. She’d be
horrified, but also Johnny-on-the-spot with an I-told-you-so.
Ailsa giggled. I don’t mind if you play with me.
To be thinking of playing at all while he
was adding little button tips to the crown of each breast. He tsked. “Don’t
distract me.”
Play with me,
she both pouted and smiled.
“Don’t go tempting fire,” he warned with
a smile. “You have no idea what my kind of play entails.”
It had been seven years, but he still had
a few of his old toys packed away in the bedroom rafters. A lovely cherry-wood
paddle, eighteen inches long and much too big and wieldy for Ailsa’s tender
little bottom. An old oak hairbrush, pale with dirty bristles, but which could
still pack a sting that would make her dance and howl across his knee.
Play with me,
she sighed.
“Interrupt me work again,” he told her,
injecting his low southern drawl with as much Scots as he could muster, “and
I’ll be taken ye to the woodshed for a good and proper skelping. Me Grand-da’s
strop still hangs out there. It’ll dance ye a merry jig, and one ye’ll naw be
likin’. Ye ken me noo?”
She answered his threat with a giggling
squeal, but her voice in his head fell silent. At least until he carved out her
ribs. It tickles!
“I’ll give you a tickle,” he warned, but
he was smiling as he did it. He smoothed and carved, shaped and defined, and
smiled as she laughed helplessly while her torso lost its unrealistic Barbie
doll shape and took on the form of a woman. A real woman, with a real waist
that he had no desire to over exaggerate, and real hips that curved the way a
woman’s hips were supposed to. He turned her over in his hand, careful of her
arms while he went to work upon her back.
I like this, she
whispered as he alternated between tools, shaping and smudging, shaving away
the excess as he cut in shoulder blades. He gave her muscle definition and a
spine that led from the base of her neck all the way down to the top of the
buttocks he began to form. It’s like a
massage.
He said nothing, but he couldn’t stop
thinking of how it would feel to run his bare hand down the length of her bare
back. Caressing her skin to skin, with nothing to stand as a barrier between
them.
I like this, she moaned, the way a real
woman would if ever he got one again beneath his hands. Her back to his chest,
his hands rubbing her shoulders, caressing from hair to hips and back again,
encouraging her with every pass to bend herself over. Head down, ass up.
Arch your hips, baby, he would tell her.
He could already see Ailsa looking back at him over her shoulder, not so much
an innocent now as she was seductive. He could see her shifting her legs wider
to offer for his approval all the parts of her that he hadn’t yet sculpted. He
gave her hips a little more rounding, to make of them a proper handful.
Something to grip and hold as he positioned himself behind her. He gave her a
nice ass too, something capable of taking a good pounding and the occasional
erotic smack.
He rolled out her lower limbs, making
them slender legs, the kind he couldn’t wait to spread, to scrape his
fingernails up to see if she would arch and writhe, and to hear the subtle
shift in her gasps as he reached between them to cup and hold, and own the
folds growing moist against his palm.
“For me, romance and kink have always gone hand in hand. I
love strong, authoritative men—men who are both ready, willing and able to
leave the lady of their choosing red–bottomed and weeping for her own good.
Writing has given me the wonderful freedom to explore my kinky side without
feeling ‘weird’. Even better, with the invention of the Internet, I can write
what I love and know it will be appreciated by people with the same interests.
Although I’ve been writing spanking romances for more than twenty years, it’s
only been in the last five that I’ve truly broken out of my self-imposed shell
to explore the other aspects of my submissive nature. Fortunate enough to live
with my Dominant, I am an author, a Little and a submissive for the love of my
life. Between that and my membership at my local Dungeons, there are very few
things that I write about that I haven’t tried at least once.”
CONNECT WITH MAREN SMITH
Email:
thetarantularanch@yahoo.com
Latest Releases by Maren Smith
Binding Brinley
Real
Author of the Masters of the Castle series
Other Pennames:
Denise Hall
Darla Phelps
Penny Alley
Amelia Smarts, Abby’s Wish
Excerpt
“You
disobeyed me. What happens when you disobey?”
Abby
twisted the fabric of her pink mid-thigh-length nightie in her hands. “Well,
usually I get spanked.” She peeked up at him through her lashes. “But maybe
this time Daddy will go easy on me since it’s Christmastime and because I’m
really, really sorry.”
He
scoffed. “You don’t look sorry. You look like a brat trying to get out of
punishment.”
She
giggled again. It was true, she wasn’t all that sorry. In fact, she was more
turned on than anything else. Clay looked so hot, standing there all serious
with a chiding expression on his face. She saw a smile pulling at the edges of
his lips. It disappeared quickly, but it was reassuring nonetheless. He was
nowhere near angry with her.
Abby
circled her arms around his neck, jumped up, and wrapped her legs around his
torso. He let out an oomph and caught
her. His hands gripped her bottom cheeks hard, his fingers digging into her
panty-clad cheeks.
“I love
climbing on you, Daddy. You’re like a big, strong mountain.”
He gave
her ass a smack. “I see what you’re doing. Don’t think being cute is going to
get you out of a punishment.” He walked with purpose toward the stairs and
climbed up to their room, with Abby clinging to him like a child being taken to
bed.
“I wasn’t
trying to be cute,” she protested. “It comes naturally.” She giggled.
He shook
his head. “Not gonna work.” He leaned forward over the bed and peeled her off
of him. She dropped on her back against the mattress and bounced once, only to
be flipped over mid-bounce and planted on her stomach.
Clay sat on the bed next to
her and lifted her nightgown. The cool air wafted over her bottom. The thin
panties provided no coverage whatsoever from the nip in the air. They wouldn’t
provide much coverage in a spanking either. Still, Clay didn’t allow panties
during a bottom-warming, so it didn’t surprise her when he tugged them all the
way down to her knees.
Author Bio: Amelia
Smarts is a #1 Amazon bestselling author who was named Best New Spanking
Romance Author in the 2016 Spanking Romance Reviews Reader's Poll. She writes
kinky romance novels containing domestic discipline, spanking, and
Dominance/submission. Usually her stories involve a cowboy, and they always
involve a man's firm hand connecting with a woman's naughty backside. She
believes it's important to tell a good story in addition to portraying hot sex
and discipline scenes. For each book, she endeavors to write complex, flawed
heroes and heroines who struggle, but eventually succeed, in their journey to
love and happiness. A longtime lover of the written word, Amelia holds graduate
and undergraduate degrees in creative writing and English. She loves to read, which
allows her writing to be influenced by many different genres in addition to
romance, including mystery, adventure, history, and suspense.
Connect with Amelia!
Join Amelia’s mailing list
for book release alerts, exclusive content, and giveaways: ameliasmarts.com/newsletter
Delia Grace, The Chalet
Excerpt:
“Mrs. Flores cleared her throat regaining
her dominant presence. “But, that’s not really the topic at hand right now, is it,
little girl?”
I bit my lip. “I didn’t ask to be part of
any of this conversation. I was just trying to figure out the best way to carry
out your wishes and this was all thrust on me.”
“Oh really? Everything is strewn about
the room and you were in bed cuddling Mr. Snow because you were trying to carry
out our wishes for decorating and setting up?”
I blushed unsure how to worm my way out.
“If you’d asked, even if Phoebe was still
coming, we’d have been happy to let you give Mr. Snow a snuggle, but you didn’t
ask. And, neglected your duties as chalet matron and then lied to cover it up,
didn’t you?”
I was mortified to feel tears filling my
eyes. “I… I… I’m so sorry, Mrs. Flores.”
“Do you know what I’d do with you if you
were ours?”
My eyes widened. “Mmm-mmm. Umm, I mean no
ma’am. I d-don’t know what you’d do. W-with me that is.”
She stared at me, her icy blue eyes
piercing my soul. “How about I show you? Stand up.” She stood from the couch
and held her hands out to help me up. I obeyed quickly. I didn’t want to
disappoint her anymore than I already had.
She took a seat on the chair I’d been in
and without a word pulled me over her lap, face down, bottom up. “
Author Bio: Delia
Grace is a mid-thirties self-proclaimed “spanko-holic”. She has inhaled books
since she read her first Boxcar Children book at six years old, although her
topics of interest have matured slightly since then. She lives with her
husband, sister, and two daughters just outside of New York City.
Follow Delia and she
promises to follow back!
Jaye Elise, The Kink of the Magi
Excerpt:
“I think my girl deserves
something extra special tonight,” he stroked her upturned ass, kneading her
taut flesh as she squirmed across his lap and dug into his erection. “Something
to remind her how much Daddy appreciates her. Something that lets her know how
precious she is.”
Peeling her pink cotton
panties down her plump thighs, Kurt reveled in the sight of her gorgeous ass
laid bare just for him. It had only gotten more beautiful with time—creamy,
round, and inviting—and he was convinced that 14 years of wedded bliss and
nightly spankings were responsible for the stunning sight before him.
“Please, Daddy,” she
whimpered, and he watched as his slow build-up and seductive promises took hold
of her body and infused her barely visible sex with glistening wetness. “Please
give me my spanking.”
“That’s my good girl,” he
whispered one last time before bringing his hand down across the join of her ass
and thighs. He hadn’t clipped her too hard, just firm enough to let her know
they were starting, yet the gasp and subsequent moan he drew from her lips told
him everything he needed to know. It was going to be a wonderful evening.
Author Bio: Originally
from the Midwest, Jaye Elise currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her
wonderful husband. When told she should find a hobby to help pass the time
during the long, gloomy winters, she went straight to her computer and started
penning naughty romance novels. And she hasn’t looked back since. Jaye loves
hearing from her readers and hopes you enjoy her books as much as she enjoys
writing them.
Social Media Links
Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/author/jayeelise
Website/Blog: https://jayeelisewrites.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jayeelisewrites
E-mail:
jayeelisewrites@gmail.com
Shelly Douglas, Christmas With a Little
Twist
Excerpt:
“Are
you not happy with the type of attention I’m providing?”
She rubbed her moist eyes with the back of her hand. “I probably just drank too much wine tonight.”
“I’m sure that’s a possibility, but just to make sure, I think you need a good hard spankin’ to remind you how to behave.”
Sliding off his lap, Sammie attempted a last-minute escape, but he turned her around and administered three hard smacks to her panty-covered behind. “By the end of the night, sweet girl, you will have more love and attention from your daddy than you ever thought possible.”
“This isn’t necessary. I’ve learned my lesson,” she said quietly. “I’m not trying to upset Jessie …”
“I know you’re not being nasty. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. I just think long overdue desires are taking over your mind. Now, get yourself over my knee, so we can do this and be done. It’s been a long day, and we’re both tired.”
She stalled at first, but finally and reluctantly bent herself over his lap. “Can’t we just go to sleep and talk about this in the morning?”
After hooking his thumbs under the lace waistband of her cotton panties, he slid them down her thighs and placed his large hand on her warm, bare bottom.
Craning her neck, she gave him her best puppy dog stare, but his grip on her waist to keep her in position was steadfast.
“And by the way, this is necessary right now, because I say it is. Now, tell me why I need to discipline you, young lady.”
“B-Because I acted out in front of Trent and Jessie?” she sputtered in a small cracked voice.
Instantly, Pete delivered a brisk slap to her rear end as he continued their conversation in a casual tone. “And …”
“I poured a third glass of wine tonight when you’ve told me about a million times that two is enough?”
Another sharp smack to her poor ass landed again. “Keep going …”
“Oh God! I’ve been warned about being disrespectful before, but I baited you anyway,” she whimpered as her eyes leaked tears of true remorse. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Though she apologized profusely, his flat, calloused palm showed no mercy as he smacked her poor reddened behind.
“The next time you disobey me, you’ll be feeling the lick of my belt on your bare bottom instead of my hand. Is that what you want, young lady? For Daddy to give you a good lickin’ with his belt?” Except for several warnings to stay in position, Pete’s firm hand disciplined every inch of Sammie’s backside, and then he made sure to swat the tender skin underneath each burning mound twice to teach her an important lesson.
“Please stop! I promise to be a good girl!”
His square jaw was clenched tight, and her face was drenched with tears as she slumped over his knee in exhaustion. But when he gently moved her off his lap, Pete looked down and grinned at a rather large wet stain on his khaki pants that happened to be puddled right next to the hard bar pulsing underneath the soft fabric.
His groan was audible as he studied his wife’s hungry eyes that seemed to be pleading for a happy ending. And he wanted nothing more than to fuck her senseless at that moment.
Jesus
Christ.
Her
submissive pose was delicious with panties draped around her knees as she
clamped her thighs together in an obvious attempt to keep the copious moisture
from sliding down her legs. But he knew that his point still needed to be made.
“In the corner,” he directed, pointing to the other side of the room trying to ignore the aching need pressing against his zipper.
“In the corner,” he directed, pointing to the other side of the room trying to ignore the aching need pressing against his zipper.
Author Bio: Born, raised, and still residing in Western Pennsylvania, Shelly Douglas creates fiction that is a combination of her actual experiences and a fantasy world which she’s been immersing herself in since she was a young girl. Her books usually involve authentic personalities engaged in a struggle with who they really are on the inside, and she makes sure that her heroes and heroines always find a happy-ever-after at the end of their long journey.
Having
made it to the Top 100 in Amazon many times - she’s not a stranger to that
“frequent flyer club”, but more important than public accolades, she hopes you
enjoy reading her stories as much as she’s enjoyed writing them.
Social Media Links:
Website: http://www.shellydouglas.net/
Shelly’s Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/shelly.douglas.412/
Shelly’s Twitter Page: https://twitter.com/PossessingSasha
Gracie Malling, All Work and No Play
Excerpt:
“Not so fast, little girl!”
I
freeze, five stairs up, and then look back over my shoulder to see Will
standing in the hallway glaring up at me.
“What’s
wrong?” I ask, trying my best to look innocent.
“Back
down here. Now.” He takes off his thick winter coat and hangs it up behind the
door, never breaking eye contact.
My
belly clenches up in that gorgeous way that is both scary and hot as hell, and
I tighten my grip on the bannister rail. “Why?”
“Mia
Elizabeth Clarke, you are already in enough trouble as it is.” He raises his
voice ever so slightly. “Here. Now.”
“But…
but I already had corner time.”
Will
grabs hold of the bannister rail and starts up the stairs after me.
I
squeak and take the rest of the stairs at a run before sprinting along the
landing, throwing open our bedroom door and flinging myself inside. This is a
ridiculous plan, however, and I realise this moments later when Will strolls
in, calm as you like, shuts the door firmly behind him and then stands there,
arms crossed, expression hard and mouth set in a disapproving line.
I
retreat until the backs of my thighs hit the bed, and then I sit down on the
edge of it with a defeated whimper. “I’m sorry…”
He
raises an eyebrow and takes a deliberate step towards me. “Sorry for what,
young lady? For being a brat at work, for running off just now or for both?”
I
hug my arms, press my cheek into my shoulder and mumble something incoherent.
“What
was that?” His voice has that sharp edge to it that tells me I am in big trouble, but for some reason lovely
submissive Mia seems to have disappeared since our little post-meeting chat and
my brat persona has well and truly taken over.
“I
said I don’t know,” I grumble,
staring down at the carpet and still hugging my arms with my face averted.
“Stand
up.”
I
shake my head, squidging my cheek deeper into my shoulder, and stay put.
“Right.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Will take two quick steps forwards and then he
grabs hold of my hair and yanks me to my feet.
Before
I have the chance to do anything more than shriek and wriggle, he sits down
hard on the edge of the bed and drags me over his lap.
“You
want to act like a brat, Mia?” he demands, his voice harsh, as he pulls up my
sensible work skirt and hooks his fingers around the waistband of my knickers.
“Well then, I’m going to treat you like a brat.”
Author Bio: Gracie
Malling lives in the UK and has been writing BDSM erotica since she was 21. All
round nice person on the outside and a bit of a bad girl in the right company,
Gracie loves reading and writing stories about spanking: her favourite
kink."
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/GracieMalling/
Twitter account: https://twitter.com/gracie_malling
Molly Alvarado, Her Christmas Daddy
Excerpt:
His knee tucked between her
thighs rubbed slightly at her crotch and Jenny reflexively thrust against it,
blindly following the sensations racing through her. She fisted her hand in his
hair, licking at his lips before foraying back into his mouth. Her muted cry of
pleasure was matched by the deep rumblings in his chest. It was the best kiss
of all her life, so good she feared she would expire from the pleasure.
His hands fumbled at her
breasts, and it wasn’t until he closed his thumb and forefinger around her
naked nipple that she realized he had taken off her bra. Then she felt her
breath catch as he rolled the nipple in his fingers, his tongue still in her
mouth. He lifted his head and looked down at her, even as his hand worked at
her nipple.
“Oh God,”
she cried, seeing him. And yet not seeing him, pleasure clouding her senses
because there was no way a sensible Jenny would ever think of calling Jason the
most beautiful man in the word. “I want, I want…” she tried to say, then fell
back to the couch as another wave of pleasure swamped her.
“Tell me, baby,” he
implored, still toying with the hard buds of her nipples, his fingers
scattering every single cognitive thought pattern she had. “Tell me what you
want.”
Author Bio: Her name
is Molly! She’s a 22 year old who adores animals of all kinds! She has a
four-legged female brown and black doxen named Nikki and a six-month-old male
bearded dragon named Pixels. She loves
video games and sci-fi movies. Lord of the Rings and The Matrix series are a
couple of her favorites. She loves to write sexy stories that will make you
blush and want some alone time with your favorite toy.
She also loves to hear from
her readers so please feel free to email her at anytime!
Mollyalvarado69@yahoo.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MollyAlvarado69
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MollyAlvarado69
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mollyalvarado69/
Joelle Casteel, Santa Dom
Excerpt:
The overhead fan kept the
air circulating even if it was still a little hotter in this room than the rest
of their house. Jason had kicked the blankets off him, making a pile on the
floor.
Kneeling on the blankets,
Michael snatched his shirt off before leaning forward to suck Jason's big toe
into his mouth. He began to rub the foot as he lavished oral attention to each
perfect toe. He lifted his gaze to Jason's relaxed face to watch for signs of
waking.
With a grunt and a moan,
Jason yanked his foot from Michael. He rolled from his side onto his back. His
fingers moved over the tubes as if to loosen the neck piece.
Michael brushed his fingers
over Jason's lower stomach, his fingers just settling into the extra flesh
collected there. Love you forever, Sir.
His attention pulled to Jason's hard cock. He reached behind him to rub Jason's
legs as he leaned in to kiss the head, his tongue moving around the corona of
his Sir's perfect pleasure.
"Yes, boy," Jason
mumbled.
His tongue and mouth
sliding down the shaft, Michael worshiped. His eyes slid closed when Jason
grasped his head in both hands and took over. He hummed in appreciation at
being of use, at giving Jason this sensation. His hands fell to the bed to prop
up his chest.
"That's my boy,"
Jason growled.
Michael relaxed into a
weightless state. He cupped his tongue against the shaft since Jason was moving
him too fast for anything else.
Author Bio: Joelle Casteel is a writer who lives and writes outside the mainstream. A lifestyle submissive, she lives with her Master, adult daughter, and a brat cat named Donut, who looks away when she uses ASL to sign "Bitch Cat." With the exception of her Master, her world is peopled by those who experience their gender and sexual attractions differently than the mainstream. Disability means she often finishes novels slower than others so you need to check back on her website to see what she's doing now; being Autistic, she does best with the written word to keep touch with others.
Find Joelle Casteel online:
Brandy Golden, Marlie’s Christmas Keeper
Excerpt
His eyes twinkled with sudden mischief.
“I suppose you can always whisper in your elf’s ear to have Santa bring me
another place to rent that’s out of your hair,” he teased.
Marlie hated her gut clenching
reaction to his smile. She didn’t want to be affected, didn’t want to like the
man, didn’t want him here at all. He was going to interrupt her peace of mind,
she just knew it. “I wouldn’t ask that rat bastard for anything,” she spat
through clenched teeth. “And especially not through some dumb nameless doll.”
She slapped the elf over and it fell on its back, its arms and legs sprawled
out, but the stupid grin remained intact.
The air instantly changed and Max’s
smile vanished. His long arms folded together on the table as he leaned towards
her, his demeanor threatening. “It sounds to me like you need to be on Santa's
naughty list with that kind of language. And a good old fashioned over the knee
spanking for the consequences.”
His pronouncement caught Marlie
completely off guard and the queer sensation that shot through her entire body
left her stunned. For the moment she was speechless as she processed the
feelings rushing through her and tried to coalesce them all into something
simple.
“And I better never hear you talk
like that in front of my daughter or disillusion her about Christmas. If you
do, I’ll be Santa’s helper and put you over my knee.” He picked up the doll she
had slapped down and sat him upright, his eyes hard and gleaming. “And I’m not
a doll you can slap down.”
Author Bio; As for me, I love books of all genres, but nothing better
than a good romance story. There is no limit to the imagination. The mind can
travel anywhere and a well written book is the transportation to exciting
places where anything you can dream can happen. Alpha, take charge, protective
heroes are always my favorite men and I love writing about them. If the feisty
heroine gets herself in trouble and gets a well-deserved spanking, that's just
the icing on the cake.
I have
lived in the midwest most of my life but have ventured into at least half of
the fifty states and found plenty of inspiration for my books. I love history
and do a lot of research when planning a book so I can be as realistic as
possible in my time periods and settings. I want my readers to have a great
experience and feel like they are in the setting as they follow the storyline.
I have a great family which includes five
wonderful children and a patient husband. I’ve been writing for several years
now and I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I love creating them for
you.
Brandy
Golden
Website: https://brandygolden.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/brandygoldenyes
Sign up
for my newsletter and receive a free copy of Dusty’s Ghost Town!
Katie Douglas, His Christmas Baby
Excerpt:
“C’mon, little bunny, let’s go home and have some Christmas dinner.”
“C’mon, little bunny, let’s go home and have some Christmas dinner.”
“Can’t we play out a little
longer? Please?” Chloe begged.
“All right. But no more
hide and seek.”
“That’s fine. TAG! You’re
it!” She tapped his arm, shrieked with laughter, and tried to run away, but
Bradley caught up with her easily.
“Tag,” he said, then
swatted her bottom. She giggled and went after him. Every time she tagged him,
he caught up with her and spanked her ass. It was the most fun she’d ever had
playing tag. Tired out from all the running, she wasn’t surprised when he
barreled into her and she landed face down on the soft ground.
He straddled her body, and
swatted her bottom, hard. The sting went straight to her clit, awakening her
body and making her nipples harden.
“Tag,” he murmured. “You’re
it.”
She wiggled her bottom
slightly, touching against his semi-hard cock, and replied, “Tag, you’re it.”
He landed another fiery
spank on her ass and her clit throbbed as it tingled with desire.
“Tag,” he said in a
dominant, primal growl. She giggled as her pussy clenched.
She flexed one of her arms
and managed to touch his foot.
He swatted her ass again,
making her moan with need as her core was flooded with glowing sensations and
her clit beat in time with her pulse. She tried to raise one of her legs to tag
him, but she couldn’t quite reach.
“Do you give up, little
girl?” he asked sweetly. She nodded, rubbing her hair in the fallen leaves
leftover from autumn. He swatted her bottom again then got off her. He scooped
her up in his strong arms, repositioning her so she was cradled by him, and she
rested her arms around his strong shoulders.
“I need to take you home
and show you what happens to little girls who like to play tag with Daddy’s
cock,” he whispered, and she shuddered in anticipation as he carried her the
short distance to their home. Never had she felt so protected, so loved, and so
turned on, all at the same time. She loved her daddy so much.
Author Bio: Katie
Douglas is a number one bestselling author of romance and erotica. Katie is an
incorrigible romantic and her books reflect that. Especially the incorrigible
part. In her spare time she likes to run headfirst into impossible projects,
especially if those projects involve travel and good food. Her other love is
shoe shopping. She is currently masquerading as a librarian by day. Although, given
that she lives in China, her day is probably night time where you are. So maybe
she's moonlighting as a librarian.
Kelly Dawson, A Naughty Little Christmas
Excerpt:
“My, my!” he exclaimed at a
whisper, one eyebrow raised. “You are very wet, princess. What are we going to
do with you, little girl?”
She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as he slid one finger under the fabric covering her most intimate parts, and traced his finger upwards, to flick at her clit. She closed her eyes and fought against the moan building at the base of her throat. Damn. What was he doing to her? Here, in public?
His finger delved inside her, deeper, up to the knuckle, while the rest of his hand stayed on the outside of her underwear, pushing aside the fabric now drenched with her juices, and slowly turned his wrist. She was going to explode. She could feel it … lightning sparked within her, sending bolts of electricity to her core, his thumb against her clit now, teasing gently, his strong fingers tormenting her, driving her wild with desire.
She felt him grasp the gusset of her underwear in his fist and tug; the elastic tightened around her hips, digging into her.
“Lift your butt.” The order was whispered, but it was definitely an order. One she dared not disobey.
As discreetly as she could, she leaned backwards in the chair, lifting her hips up, her calf muscles screaming at her, being so tested after spending so long in high heels, and she felt Clay’s hand against her thigh as he tugged her knickers roughly down by the crotch. Her knickers at mid-thigh now, she lowered herself gently back into her chair, gasping at the sensation of the roughish dress material against her bare bottom. So scandalous! So naughty! Clay winked; she felt her face flush. She froze as he drew her knickers slowly down her legs, his eyes never once leaving hers.
“Lift your left foot.” Again, that whispered command, but a command so full of authority that she dared not disobey.
Still holding her gaze, fire burning brightly in his eyes, Clay leaned down low across the table, his fingers tugging the fabric of her underwear down her legs, over her ankle, then slipped it off over her raised foot. It caught on the heel of her shoe; a brief frown flitted across his face before she felt his fumbling fingers unhook the garment and clench it tightly in his fist again.
She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as he slid one finger under the fabric covering her most intimate parts, and traced his finger upwards, to flick at her clit. She closed her eyes and fought against the moan building at the base of her throat. Damn. What was he doing to her? Here, in public?
His finger delved inside her, deeper, up to the knuckle, while the rest of his hand stayed on the outside of her underwear, pushing aside the fabric now drenched with her juices, and slowly turned his wrist. She was going to explode. She could feel it … lightning sparked within her, sending bolts of electricity to her core, his thumb against her clit now, teasing gently, his strong fingers tormenting her, driving her wild with desire.
She felt him grasp the gusset of her underwear in his fist and tug; the elastic tightened around her hips, digging into her.
“Lift your butt.” The order was whispered, but it was definitely an order. One she dared not disobey.
As discreetly as she could, she leaned backwards in the chair, lifting her hips up, her calf muscles screaming at her, being so tested after spending so long in high heels, and she felt Clay’s hand against her thigh as he tugged her knickers roughly down by the crotch. Her knickers at mid-thigh now, she lowered herself gently back into her chair, gasping at the sensation of the roughish dress material against her bare bottom. So scandalous! So naughty! Clay winked; she felt her face flush. She froze as he drew her knickers slowly down her legs, his eyes never once leaving hers.
“Lift your left foot.” Again, that whispered command, but a command so full of authority that she dared not disobey.
Still holding her gaze, fire burning brightly in his eyes, Clay leaned down low across the table, his fingers tugging the fabric of her underwear down her legs, over her ankle, then slipped it off over her raised foot. It caught on the heel of her shoe; a brief frown flitted across his face before she felt his fumbling fingers unhook the garment and clench it tightly in his fist again.
Author Bio: Kelly
Dawson loves anything to do with horses, rodeos and cowboys, and loves to get
lost in a good book - preferably one containing spanking!
A life-long closet-spanko,
Kelly started writing spanking stories on every spare scrap of paper in the
house as a child. So when she discovered the internet and spanking romance
along with it, she was most excited. But it took her a good decade of devouring
these stories before she got up the courage to submit her own. And now, here
she is, 8 books later, with a plethora of ideas still to write!
She lives literally at the
bottom of the world in the South Island of New Zealand, with her husband, four
kids, a dog and a cat.
Author Links:
Sheri Lynn, Rebecca the Red-Bottomed
Reindeer
Excerpt:
Losing her balance, her knee slammed
into the stage and her torso followed. Planting her palms in front of
her, she lifted her shoulders and breasts realizing she landed right smack in
front of a customer. The lights played havoc with her vision. Not
that it surprised her to have a man ogling her breasts, but she felt the
intensity in his stare. Raising her eyes, she glimpsed a furor in his
eyes before he became enveloped in darkness again. Looking down she noticed
her necklace she never took off rotated from behind her neck and under her
hair. Her brother gave it to her and this man focused on it.
She figured it cost a fair amount,
Australian Opals, a unique, lovely piece, but not something anyone might take
note of the way this man fixated on it. It meant more to her because it
came from her brother. He bought it years before he met his wife,
April. Back when he and his hot best friend, Jake took impromptu road
trips. This he picked up in Santa Fe. Before she had time to react
to her revelation, fingers clamped down over her upper arms. He dragged
her off the stage. Kicking her legs, her feet, she searched for anything
to halt this onslaught. He had a tight grip on her which gave him the
ability to keep her upper body from crashing with the table he vacated.
Her lower half didn’t fare as well. Her left knee plopped on the table
causing the table to rock and flip to its side. This rotated her body
smashing her to the floor on her right thigh.
It didn’t end there. Their
eyes met for a second. Long enough for her to understand this wasn’t
over. Bending toward her, his left arm encircled her waist hauling her up
from the dirty concrete floor. Her feet dangled in front of him, her
doe-tailed butt in the air. Even with the music blaring, it didn’t mute
the crack of the first thwack against her bare flesh. She yelped unable
to fathom he spanked her, a hard spanking, and in public. He got a few
more strikes in before the bouncers arrived.
Finding herself on her hands and
knees, she looked up in time to see him receive a punch in the jaw.
“No! Don’t hurt him!” she screamed as they forced him out of the
building. By the time she found the ability to stand, she ran out to find
him, but didn’t see him anywhere. Her knees shook and she found it
difficult to breathe. Leaning forward she rested her hands on her upper
thighs. Jake. When was the last time she saw him before him
tonight? When she was in high school and he came over to the house for
Thanksgiving? Would he tell her brother that he saw her here? She
never expected anyone to find out. With Jose’s Jewels being an hour and
half from her hometown, she thought she could keep it a secret.
Author Bio: I grew up an Army brat, so my childhood involved moving
every three years. However, truly a southern gal, I currently reside in Alabama
with my husband, two Chihuahuas, two Golden Retrievers, a mean cat, turtle, and
a teenage daughter. I have two sons, who live on their own, and a stepson and
stepdaughter.
Romance
novels have always been my first reading choice. I'm a hopeless romantic, and
that trait materializes in every aspect of my life. “Wearing your heart on your
sleeve” has been a common phrase repeatedly heard throughout my life. Writing
romance and happily ever afters comes naturally.
Whether a result of my
childhood, or not, I love to travel. Warm weather and beautiful beaches are
always my choice destination.
my newsletter link - http://eepurl.com/cWoyZ5
Allysa Hart, Santa’s “Little” Helpers
All the lines of the deposition before me bled together as I
stared at my notes. It was the same thing every day with a new client and a new
case. The mundane pattern made work difficult, and I had long lost the fire and
passion I used to feel for my cases. My clients did not deserve a half hearted
attorney, something had to give.
I decided to pack up for the day just as the phone at my
desk rang. I looked skeptically at the caller id, wondering if I should let it
go to voicemail, but when I saw Derek’s number I couldn’t help but grin. The
man had impeccable timing.
"Stark," I answered out of habit. The sultry voice
on the other side of the phone shook.
"H-Hello Mr. Stark. This is Erika Lane. I'm calling on
behalf of Master Derek. Would you mind if I put you on hold while I transfer
you?"
"Hello, Erika. How are you, little squirrel?"
"Me?" her voice squeaked.
"Yes, you. Is there someone else on the line I don't
know about?" I grinned. The little submissive fascinated me in a way no
woman had in a long time. I loved to catch her off guard and listen to her
stumble over her words or watch her squirm in her seat.
"N-no, Sir, I'm doing well, thank you for asking. I,
um, Master Derek would like to speak to you. May I transfer you?"
"Trying to get rid of me so quickly?" I leaned
back in my desk chair and crossed my legs, getting comfortable for the best
conversation I’d had all day, all week for that matter. She was adorable, and
she flipped all my dominant switches.
"N-no, Sir. Of course not. I-I'm just doing my job.”
Her voice shook with nerves, and I could bet my paycheck she
was wiggling on a sore bottom as she practically begged to pass me off to
Derek. I could listen to her voice all day, but I didn’t want to stress her
out. "Okay little squirrel, go ahead and transfer me."
Her audible sigh made me laugh out loud. "Thank you,
please hold."
Author Bio: I am a full-time mom to a sassy,
strong-willed, loveable little girl. Okay, so she is all me. I am on the wrong
side of 30, and I have been married to my best friend for over eight years.
Like most couples, we have our ups and downs, but I could not imagine doing
life with anyone else by my side. We are Southern California transplants,
currently residing in a very rural part of the east coast. I have two crazy
dogs that I adore, even though they drive me out of my ever-loving mind, most
days.
I have recently rediscovered my love of
words and decided to become a writer. My first story is my heart and soul, and
it reaches into the depths of all that is me. I also create covers, promos, and
logos for authors. I have met some amazing friends on this journey that I now
happily call family. Without my family members, whether biological or chosen, I
would not be half the person I am today. Their constant love and support keep
me afloat.
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/allycat602/
Email: allycat5765@gmail.com
Kathryn R. Blake, A Naughty New Year
Excerpt:
Kelly stood at the kitchen counter staring at the
champagne bottle with indecision. What she'd contrived as a harmless indulgence
a few minutes ago seemed like a much more severe offense now. Especially since
Jim had added trust into the mix. Though he hadn't come out and said it
directly, he implied if she poured anything other than Ginger Ale into their
glasses, she'd be violating his confidence. So, now what?
She
still thought his edict of no champagne was overly strict, but the notion of
deliberately damaging his belief in her didn't sit well, either. She wasn't
naïve enough to think he hadn't chosen his words on purpose, or that he didn't
suspect what she intended to do. The question was whether she'd really be
betraying him if she followed through with her plan.
Why do things need to be so difficult?
She walked over to the doorway. "Jim, could you come in here for a moment,
please?"
He
strode over and reached out to put his arms loosely about her hips.
"Feelin' guilty?" he inquired with an arched eyebrow.
She
nodded, fighting a stupid urge to cry. "You did that deliberately, didn't
you?"
"What
do you think?"
At
least he didn't try to play innocent. "I think you aren't playing fair.
It's New Year's," she protested.
"Yeah.
I know. And I also know you'd like to party a bit more than I want you to. The
decision is yours, Kelly, just as it has always been."
Author Bio: Although
Kathryn is relatively new to the spanking romance market, she is not new to
stories where the hero spanks the heroine.
In fact, most of her novels have some sort of spanking in them. However, even in Kathryn's novels where the
hero firmly believes in using spanking as a deterrent, he has no desire to
cause the heroine injury and takes no delight in hurting the woman of his
heart. In fact, sometimes he finds it
extremely difficult to follow through on his threats or promises.
To date, all of her heroes
are dominant, alpha males who are extremely protective of the women they
love. However, part of that
protectiveness includes the need for a certain amount of control. They do not suffer defiance or disobedience
lightly. Even so, these men aren't infallible, and they do make mistakes, but
love and respect will always triumph in the end.
Social Media Links:
You can find Kathryn
lurking in the following locations:
Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/KRBlake.page
Facebook Profile: http://www.facebook.com/KRBlake.profile
Twitter: http://twitter.com/KRBwrites
Website: http://www.kathrynrblake.com
No comments:
Post a Comment