Saturday, 26 March 2022

Saturday Spankings - SUBMITTING TO THE VIKING WARRIOR is out now! #vikingromance #spankingromance #satspanks

Welcome to Saturday Spankings. This week a seriously hot excerpt from my new release SUBMITTING TO THE VIKING WARRIOR.





ABOUT


Alone in her longhouse with a fierce winter ahead, the last thing Ingrid expects is a strapping Viking appearing on her threshold.


Laden with gifts from her daughter and new husband King Njal, Gunnar’s arrival is a lifesaver. And now he’s delivered the goods, Gunnar can journey back to Halsgrof on his fine horse.


But the wild storm and Gunnar have other ideas. Determined to stay with Ingrid, he settles in for the long dark Nordic months. He’s dominant, demanding, stern and strict, and he’s there every time Ingrid turns around.


And when he decides she’s been disobedient, she soon finds herself tipped upside down, her bottom bared, and a humiliating spanking delivered. Yet she can’t help but be drawn to his strength and kindness, and when he shows her just how good a man can make her feel, Ingrid forgets the chill outside and soon heats to volcanic proportions.


EXCERPT

Ingrid blew out a breath. Her hands were trembling, so were her knees. The wolf had gone. Certain death no longer imminent. Gunnar had arrived and saved her.
“Gunnar,” she managed shakily.
He lowered his arms and turned. From beneath his hood, he glowered at her.
“Thanks be to Odin,” she said, pressing her hand to her chest over her red cloak.
“Where is yours?” He shook the dagger her way. “Tell me. Now.”
“My what?”
Ingrid knew full well what he was talking about. She gulped, knowing she’d disobeyed but only just realizing she had.
“Don’t act dim-witted, you know what I am saying.” He stepped up to her, slipping his dagger into the sheath at his waist. “Where is your weapon? The one I instructed you to have on your person when coming to tend the animals.”
“My weapon?” She held the basket in front of herself, shield-like.
“Aye, wench, your weapon.” He was right in front of her, staring at her, dark flashes of anger searing over his irises. His voice was low and dangerous, resembling the rumble of rocks before they slid down a mountainside.
“I…I…do not—”
“Have it,” he finished for her. “I can see that.” He swiped at her cloak, parting it so he could see her empty belt.
She lost her grip on the basket. It tumbled to the ground, the milk spilling.
“Did I not make myself clear?” He loomed over her.
Now she knew why the wolf had run, why its courage had deserted it. Gunnar’s roar was loud, his anger tangible, and now its focus was all on her.
“I am sorry,” she said. Had she ever felt so small? 
“Sorry!” he shouted. “Sorry, what good would that do when your head had been ripped from your neck, woman? No good at all.” He gritted his teeth, his lips peeling back in a snarl. “You have disobeyed me, to the extent it could have cost you your life.”
“I was going to run, to the barn and—”
“And you never would have made it. That wolf was skinny and hungry, you would have been a good meal, then his pack would have made short work of the livestock.”
He stooped, ducked, and shoved his shoulder against her belly.
The next thing Ingrid knew, she was hoisted upward and plonked over his shoulder. Her legs were high, her head hanging down. “Gunnar! Argh!”
His hand landed hard over her bottom, pinning her in place. “Keep still, woman.” He turned, whistled. “Bo! Get!”
She huffed out air as he took a few large heavy paces to the barn and pulled the door open. “Please, put me down.”
“Bo! Get here, wolf has gone.”
There was a rush of wind and the swoosh of hooves on snow. Bo had made a swift entry into the barn.
Blood rushed to Ingrid’s head. She grabbled to hang on to Gunnar’s cloak, trying to steady herself.
“This eve could have turned in a very different direction.” Gunnar shut the door, locking them into the barn with the animals. “As it is, you’re still going to get a different eve to what you’d thought.”
“But please, I…” Suddenly she was being lowered to the dusty floor, but no sooner had her feet hit it, she was once again being dragged down, over his knee this time, bottom in the air, head low. “Oh!”
“You will feel my hand for this, wench, and you will have learned your lesson by the time I am finished.”
“Oh no, please, Gunnar, I won’t forget the dagger again, I will always have it with me, I—”
“It is only a sore red rump that will ensure your obedience on this matter.” He shoved at her cloak, pushing it up and over her shoulders. “And I can assure you it will be very sore, you’ll nay be sitting for a week once I’m done with you, wench.”
Indignation and humiliation swarmed within Ingrid. She clenched her jaw and kicked her heels up.
“Stop that, wench.” He batted her legs down, her right boot slipping off and to the floor with a whump.
The chickens clucked wildly at the skirmish in their barn, and the ram bleated, long and high-pitched.
“You cannot do this, you…oh!”
He’d pulled her undergarment up, exposing her bare bottom. Cold air washed over her flesh. 
“You big brute, you have no right to…” She wriggled with more energy but to no avail. “You can’t…”
“I will do as I wish with you. I am master of this longhouse, master of this farmstead, and master of you.” He scooped her close, trapping her against his solid body. “Now take your punishment with dignity.”
“No, I…argh!” She jolted forward.
He’d swiped his palm over her buttocks, both of them, hard. The sting was instantly burning and the pain deep into her muscle.
She clenched her cheeks and arched her back.
He struck again, the burning pain more extreme because she’d tensed.
“No!” she cried, fisting his pants. “No more.” How could she stand this? He was putting solid Viking muscle into the strikes. His hand so wide he was catching her slender bottom almost entirely with each spank.
“Aye, more,” he growled. He pushed her shoulders so she was upended once again. “Until I believe you to have learned your lesson.”
He spanked her again, and again. The slaps coming swiftly one after another, no break between them.
The sound was shocking as it sliced through the barn. Each spank dragging a squeal from her that added to the noise.
Spank. Spank. Spank.
Heat rushed up her spine and over her scalp. It spread between her legs, to her cunny, dampening her there, then down her inner thighs. With the burn was a swarm of bees, stinging and stinging, layering up the pain.
“Gunnar!” she cried, tears streaming over her face. “Please. Stop.”
To her surprise he did, and he set his work-roughened hand over her buttocks, applying a firm pressure to her sore skin.
“You really do make a festival out of a spanking,” he said a little breathlessly. “You are not making this easy on yourself.”
“Enough now. Leave me be.”
He kind of chuckled, a gruff, low noise in his throat. “And you think it is wise to tell me what to do while you are over my knee with your little bottom right beneath my nose and at my mercy?”
She grunted in frustration and once again tried to free herself. It was no good. In fact, he held her all the tighter.
He smoothed his hand over her cheeks, first the right, then the left, as though examining the results of his punishment on her poor behind.
Her flesh was on fire and super-sensitive.
And then he dipped lower, through the cleft of her buttocks, over her rear hole and to her cunny.
“Oh!” She stilled. She was so wet there, she didn’t know why, and now he was going to know that fact. Embarrassment sent a new wave of heat through her blood, and she clamped her legs together.
But it was no good, his determined fingers buried into her cunny, slipping in easily because of her moisture.
“Oh, Ingrid, you are a disgrace,” he said. “And your body is telling me everything.”
“It tells you naught. Leave me be.” She held her breath as he tunneled deeper, wiggling his fingers into her cunny and stroking there.
The dense filling sent a longing for more through her abdomen, and her bud tingled. She arched her back, tipping her butt to seat her cunny more thoroughly onto him. A low moan escaped her throat.
“You are not supposed to be enjoying this.” He withdrew, and in an instant the spanking had resumed. Even harder and faster than before.


ALSO ON KINDLE UNLIMITED








Friday, 25 March 2022

THE BOYS are on SALE! #reverseharem #whychoose #romance #eroticromance #99c

 


For a few days only you can grab your copy of THE BOYS for just 0.99. A  must read for everyone who has fallen in love with the sexy male characters in THE CHALLENGE.


Thursday, 24 March 2022

Find #eroticromance packed with hot #alpha heroes and women who (try) to tame them!



If you haven't visited my website, make today the day, you'll get to choose a FREE ebook plus meet your next book boyfriend.


Perfect



 

Tuesday, 22 March 2022

SUBMITTING TO THE VIKING WARRIOR - OUT NOW #bitofrough #vikingromance #BDSM #spankingromance #historicalromance

 RELEASE DAY!





Get your copy now! Also on Kindle Unlimited





ABOUT


Alone in her longhouse with a fierce winter ahead, the last thing Ingrid expects is a strapping Viking appearing on her threshold.


Laden with gifts from her daughter and new husband King Njal, Gunnar’s arrival is a lifesaver. And now he’s delivered the goods, Gunnar can journey back to Halsgrof on his fine horse.


But the wild storm and Gunnar have other ideas. Determined to stay with Ingrid, he settles in for the long dark Nordic months. He’s dominant, demanding, stern and strict, and he’s there every time Ingrid turns around.


And when he decides she’s been disobedient, she soon finds herself tipped upside down, her bottom bared, and a humiliating spanking delivered. Yet she can’t help but be drawn to his strength and kindness, and when he shows her just how good a man can make her feel, Ingrid forgets the chill outside and soon heats to volcanic proportions.


SISTER BOOK



Sunday, 6 March 2022

Saturday, 5 March 2022

Saturday Spankings #SatSpanks #vikingromance #spankingromance #excerpt #newrelease

 


Welcome to SATURDAY SPANKINGS, this week I have exciting news as I have a sparkly new release - well almost, it's on pre-order - to tell you about.


SUBMITTING TO THE VIKING WARRIOR is a spin-off from MASTERED BY THE VIKING KING and is a spanking historical romance that rockets from the depths of despair in a Nordic winter to a very heated read in all senses of the word HOT.


ABOUT

Alone in her longhouse with a fierce winter ahead, the last thing Ingrid expects is a strapping Viking appearing on her threshold.

Laden with gifts from her daughter and new husband King Njal, Gunnar's arrival is a lifesaver. And now he's delivered the goods, Gunnar can journey back to Halsgrof on his fine horse.

But the wild storm and Gunnar have other ideas. Determined to stay with Ingrid, he settles in for the long dark Nordic months. He's dominant, demanding, stern and strict, and he's there every time Ingrid turns around.
 
And when he decides she's been disobedient, she soon finds herself tipped upside down, her bottom bared, and a humiliating spanking delivered.Yet she can't help but be drawn to his strength and kindness, and when he shows her just how good a man can make her feel, Ingrid forgets the chill outside and soon heats to volcanic proportions.


SNIPPET

“Now. Go. While there is light.” She pointed at the sun’s weak circlet behind the clouds. “I am ordering you.”
“You’re ordering me.” He folded his arms, his knuckles pressing on his bulging biceps.
“Aye, know your place, Viking.”
His right eyebrow twitched, as did his beard.
She half huffed, half grunted, her frustration growing by the second. Why was he still standing there, half naked and ignoring the bitter cold? Her scalp itched with annoyance, and her cloak was suddenly suffocating.
“Know my place,” he repeated, the muscles between his neck and shoulders tensing. Two sharp triangles of power.
“Your horse is fed and rested,” she said, stepping into the barn. “Time for you to go, I…oh!”
He’d swooped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His grip was as strong as any bear as he hoisted her into air, slamming her back against his bare chest.
“Get off me!” she yelled.
“Stop telling me what to do, woman.” He kicked the barn door closed with a bang, much to the shock of the chickens and goats. “I will not tolerate it.”
“It is your place… for me to tell… you what to do.”
“That is where you are wrong. I am a Viking warrior. We are alone here…” He marched toward the chopping block, a thick old stump the height of a chair. “We are alone here for the winter, and that is something that will not surprise either the king or the queen as they sent me off when the winter snow was falling.”
She wriggled against him and tried to peel his arms from her waist. It was no good. His hold was sound and tight. “Put me down.”
“As you wish.”
Suddenly she was on the floor but only upright for a second because then the snowy world turned upside down as she was folded in half, over his bent knee.
She yelped in indignation and her hood skimmed the dust and her belly squashed onto his thigh. “Stop this!” she cried.
“Cry out all you want, there’s naught here to hear you but animals.”
Ingrid pushed and tried to stand. It was no good. His left leg had trapped her there. “You have no right…let me go.”
“It’s obvious, Ingrid, that you have been without a Viking man in your life for too long. You have become insolent, ungrateful, and disrespectful.” 
He shoved at her new cloak. It flipped over her head, surrounding her, brushing the floor and wrapping her in red glow. She gripped his pants and continued to try and wriggle free.
“Keep still. I will teach you to control your mouth and accept our fate.” He pushed the center of her back, tipping her farther. “And I will teach you that lesson now.”
“Oh, Freya and all the gods in Valhalla, save me.” Her behind was now the highest point of her body, and she was well and truly imprisoned by his hold on her. She was trapped and vulnerable, at his mercy.
“Without a man to put you over his knee, it’s clear you have lost your ability to obey.” Gunnar yanked at her frayed tunic. “But we will soon fix that.”
“I’ll speak to my daughter about this, and she will have your—”
Slap.
“Oh!” She jerked forward as a heated spank landed over her cheeks, his big hand sending pain and heat sparking through her clothing onto her flesh.
Slap.
She gasped. “How dare you. Get off me.”
“Next time you tell me to know my place.” He rubbed over her pants, the only barrier between his hand and her bare bottom. “You will think twice.”
He didn’t give her time to answer, he spanked her again, then again. 
She squealed and cursed and gasped with each hard strike. White-hot burn was streaking over her flesh. Her bottom heating in a way it never had before. Frodo hadn’t spanked her. He never would have, it was not the way of his soul.
She squeezed her eyes closed as Gunnar’s punishment continued, tears dampening her eyelashes. It wasn’t just the pain, it was the indignation. How dare he? How dare he treat her this way? She wasn’t his to punish, she wasn’t his to be in charge of.
He paused with his hand resting on her behind as though he did own it.
She kicked up her heels, catching his leg with the right one. “You cannot do this, you cannot…”
“I am and I can.” He swiped her butt again, swift and sharp.







Thursday, 3 March 2022

DIRTY BIKERS - hot new #MCromance to spice up your day in the very best way! #alphamale #bookboyfriend

 


Don't miss my hot new series DIRTY BIKERS, book #1 BADASS BIKER is out now, with books #2 and #3 coming soon!




The Devil’s Barbarians, a notorious one-percenter MC, have arrived in town. Debauchery, brawls, and cocky charm, oh yeah, it’s all going down.

LEAH 
Carter Harris is danger with a capital D.
I have to avoid him. Resist temptation.
Riding into the sunset on the back of his Harley is not an option.
Or is it?
Wild passion. Heady longing. Bad-boy looks. Hell yeah, I could be persuaded.

CARTER
Leah White might be the biggest challenge of my life.
She’s tiny but feisty. She’s independent yet those lost eyes tell me she’s crying out for a man.
And that man is gonna be me. There’s no question about that.
Now all I gotta do is seduce the heck out of her, even if that means resorting to dirty tactics.





Tuesday, 1 March 2022

STOCKHOLM SURRENDER - #captorromance #eroticromance #darkromance #alphamale

STOCKHOLM SURRENDER 


ABOUT

My soul was in turmoil. Ty Winters had not only kidnapped me in Oz, my heart-stoppingly gorgeous surfer had also stoked my darkest desires, bringing all my fantasies to the surface. So Oxford wasn’t going well. Until, that is, he crept from the shadows—desperate, sexy, dangerous, and wanting a piece of me, literally!

He teased me with a taste of his carnal skills, leaving me burning with frustration then forced to stand by as he fought for his beliefs using my lust-addled body as his most powerful weapon.

Oh, my kidnapper knew how to get what he wanted, giving me just what I needed, while hiding our relationship from the British foreign minister and police. Because sometimes two people are meant to be, even in the most unconventional circumstances and twisted situations. We could fight the world, but we couldn’t fight our passion.