Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Guest Post - 2/18/20 - "Triple Naughty Christmas" by Sierra Brave #BisexualRomance #RomanticComedy #Holiday

Nearly two decades ago, Trisha doubled down on the love of a lifetime with Thomas and Ken. Does her lady luck still have the momentum to pull off a traditional Christmas for her unique family?


Excerpt:

Once he was undressed, Thomas opened his travel bag, pulling out a box wrapped in silver paper and topped with a white bow. He placed it on the nightstand closest to Ken before he attempted to slip under the covers with his spouses.
“Well hey.” Ken’s voice was groggy as he rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Too early in the morning—I hadn’t meant to wake you.” Thomas combed his fingers through Ken’s silky, black hair, pushing his bangs away from his steely gray eyes before placing a kiss on his forehead.
“That’s okay. I’m not the one you need to worry about.” Ken’s tone was low as he tilted his head towards the blond sleeping next to him. “Trisha’s been in a mood today. Mommy dearest called.”
“Ah, Attila the Mom,” Thomas agreed in a whisper.
As Ken sat up, the covers sagged around his abdomen, showing off his bare chest and the sexy V-shape his torso made when his lean stomach met his hipbones. Thomas couldn’t help reaching over and running his hand from one hard, toned pectoral to the other. Ken wasn’t a big guy like himself, but he kept fit, making sure every inch of his body showed his well-defined, hard-earned, muscle tone.
“Mmm.” Ken closed his eyes, sucking air into his nostrils. “You better make sure you’re up to finishing anything you start.”


Blurb:

Navigating the Yuletide season can be a challenge for anyone but after hosting their family Christmas celebration for more than fifteen years, forty-something mom, Trisha Marks-Davidson, believes she’s conquered Santa and tamed all of his reindeer. Anything but ordinary, Trisha’s family of seven consists of herself, her two husbands, Tommy and Ken, and their four kids. Despite their unusual situation, she’s cultivated a system for a fun-filled holiday packed with their own special traditions.

Trisha, Tommy, and Ken are pleased with the quiet, comfortable life they’ve built together but are disturbed to learn the novelty of their three-way union still hasn’t worn off for some members of their community even after nearly two decades. A last-minute decision to attend a neighborhood Christmas party could be the trio’s undoing. The opportunity to set the record straight is there for the taking but actions speak louder than words and temptation is all around them.

Other books in the Triple Passion Play series: Can love between three survive? 

Rock You Like a Hurricane 

Baby Makes Four

 

Connect with Sierra



Buy Links:

Amazon Buy Links: US, UK, CA, AU 
Also Available at other Major Retailers: https://books2read.com/u/bzvGw9



About the Author:

Sierra Brave is a multi-published author of smoking hot romance. She writes across genres, dabbling in a little bit of everything, including ménage and BDSM.  Her love of erotic fiction started in her last year of high school when she first read the sensual classic, Fanny Hill. She felt so naughty yet liberated with her copy tucked away in her book bag and hopes her work will have the same delicious effect on her readers.

AUTHOR’S LINKS


Thursday, February 13, 2020

Guest Post - 2/13/20 - Viking Surrender - Jerrik by Felicity Brandon #VikingRomance, #SpankingRomance, #BDSMRomance

The last thing she needed was a husband, especially some Viking brute commanding her surrender.


Excerpt:

“You can make it up to me later,” he demanded as he sauntered towards the place where she was still kneeling. “After I have punished you for defying me.”
Brigid panted at Jerrik’s assertions, and she drew in a deep breath, as if to compose herself. “I know I am your wife now,” she murmured in response. “But I am also a grown woman, Jerrik, and a mother. I cannot have you punishing me, especially in front of Bram.”
Her tone was laced with just a hint of insolence, and it was enough to stir his already unsatisfied cock.
“You no longer have the choice,” he reminded her flatly. “You’re my responsibility now, Brigid, and our children will be of my heritage. Your defiance will be punished. It is how us Vikings deal with such things.”
She dropped the vegetables and rose unsteadily to her feet. Brigid was trembling, and Jerrik wondered if it was fear that inspired the gesture, or something else. It had been some time since Brigid had been mastered, and he was starting to wonder if her first husband had ever truly done the job. He sensed there was a part of her that wanted to yield to someone stronger than herself, but the woman had spent so long being responsible for herself and Bram, she seemed to be struggling with the new power dynamic. Jerrik could understand that. He needed to guide her.
“What will you do?” she whispered, gazing up at him with anxious eyes.
Jerrik smiled, moving towards her and taking one of those small, cold palms in his hands. “Nothing severe,” he promised. “Just enough to remind you of your place.”
“The b-birch?” she stammered, barely able to articulate the final word.
Evidently, his little wife had quite the fear of the birch, and he mused that it would be worth remembering that for future misdemeanours, of which he was sure they would be a great many.
“No,” he assured her. “Not this time.”
Brigit exhaled in apparent relief. “Then what?”
Jerrik shook his head with a grin. “I had intended to surprise you with the penance later,” he said, dropping his tone as he inched towards her body.
“Please,” she replied, craning her neck to look up into his eyes. “I’ve never done this before, Jerrik. Bram’s father never…”
She paused, lowering her gaze.
“He never punished you?” Jerrik offered.
He wasn’t well versed in Pict traditions, but it seemed ludicrous that the man had done nothing to love or guide his spouse at all.
“He never really did anything to me,” she replied with a sigh. “Apart from the obvious—usually when he had consumed too much mead. So long as I fed him on time, he generally left me be.”
“I see.” Jerrik’s tone had lowered in response to Brigid’s description. He was pleased he would never have to meet this man and make him atone for his incompetence. It seemed as though there was already enough to be done.
“You’ll find I am quite a different proposition,” he told her. “I have high expectations of you, Brigid, but I will repay your effort with my sword and dagger which will protect and provide for you, and with my body, which will honour you. I’m sure you know to what I speak, but if there was any doubt, then I hope the last evenings have reassured you?”
Brigid sucked her lower lip between her teeth at Jerrik’s words. It was clear she did remember their unions of consummation. “Yes,” she replied in a breathy tone. “I should like more of that.”
Her face flamed at the admission, and he chuckled at her embarrassment. “And you shall have it,” he told her. “Just as you shall bear my punishment.”
She swallowed, but in those hazel eyes there was a flicker of acknowledgement. “Aye, well,” she murmured. “I will try and yield, Jerrik, yet I think I am out of practise.”
Jerrik grinned at the concession. “A good, hard, bare-bottomed spanking over my knee should help you to remember,” he drawled. “Do you not think?”
Her breaths were coming out in short, fast pants. “A spanking?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Brigid closed her eyes at his edict. “Then please, Jerrik, do not make me endure it in front of my son. This is new to him also.”
Jerrik appraised her pained expression with interest. He’d never even contemplated the child witnessing her penance until now; in fact, until this morning, he’d never even contemplated having a child before.
“We shall find something to amuse him this afternoon,” he decided, raising his hand to gently tilt her chin in his direction.
The touch of his hand at her face drew Brigid’s eyes open in an instant, and for a long moment, their eyes locked.
“And once we are alone, you will learn how to submit, wife.”


Blurb:

Viking Surrender

A horde of battle-hardened, ferocious Nordic warriors.

A Pictish village at the mercy of its enemies.

A harrowing bargain struck for nine fearful and reluctant brides.

Delivered into Viking hands, claimed and conquered, each bride must accept that she belongs to her new master. But, as wedding nights bring surrender to duty, will fierce lovers also surrender their hearts?

The Highland wilderness is savage, life is perilous, and the future uncertain, but each Viking has sworn protection, and there are no lengths to which a man will not go to safeguard the woman he loves.

Nine provocatively sensual tales of suspense, seduction and adventure told against the forbidding backdrop of medieval Scotland.

Journey together with indomitable heroes and intrepid heroines, as they discover that the raging storms of fear and passion can transform into enduring devotion.

Jerrik
Forced into a union she didn't seek, Brigid is terrified and aroused by Jerrik's masterful behaviour and carnal demands.
But, when he saves her son from the ferocious ocean, Brigid realises he may be the hero she needs, as well as the man she craves.

Buy Links:

Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07ZC3696Q


About the Author:

Felicity is a #1 international bestselling, and award winning writer of dark, spanking romance. Head in the clouds, you can usually find her either plotting her next book, hitting the gym, or rocking out to her favourite music. She lives to write though, and is happiest creating desire and kink at her keyboard.
Find Felicity here:
Subscribe to my sexy newsletter here and receive links to download a FREE BDSM short by me! https://www.subscribepage.com/FelicityBrandon


Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Guest Post - 1-22-20 - Viking Surrender-Brandr by Ashe Barker #Vikings #Spanking #HistoricalRomance

Forced to wed the fierce Viking warlord in order to save her people, Eithne has no choice but to surrender to her powerful and terrifying husband.


Excerpt:

“Lady, what are you doing out here?”
She did not see him but heard his low growl from deep within the forested area to the south of their settlement. Eithne stood a moment, and Brandr appeared from among the trees.
She gasped, stepped back. She had momentarily forgotten just how large he was, how menacing. Brandr’s hand shot out to catch her just in time or she would have tumbled backwards into the undergrowth.
“Steady. I do not wish your bottom to be already covered in bruises before I have an opportunity to take a switch to your tender flesh.”
“A…a switch?” Sweet Jesu, she had not bargained on that. A hand-spanking, perhaps…
“Aye. And you may consider yourself fortunate it is not to be worse.”
“Worse? In what way might it be worse?” she wondered aloud.
“You will be punished within the confines of our home. The rest of your people will no doubt hear your cries, but they will not witness your punishment with their own eyes.”
Eithne stared at him, his hard features illuminated by the lamp she still held, though her hand shook. She supposed she should thank him but could not bring herself to do so. His next words rendered such a response unnecessary.
“I see no cause to bare my wife’s body for all to enjoy. Your nudity will be for my eyes alone.”
“You are a savage, Jarl. A barbarian,” she blurted before she could think better of it. “You say these things to frighten me.”
“I say these things because they are true. And were I truly a savage, you would not be standing in front of me pointing the matter out. You would have already tasted the Norse justice you seem so certain of.”
“I do not understand…”
He sighed and released his grip on her arm. “And I do not understand what brings you out so late. Is there a problem, lady?”
“No. I just… I wondered where you were and…and if you needed me to tell you which cottage is mine. Ours.”
“I think you may rely upon me not to become lost. I know which dwelling is yours, Eithne.”
“You mean to share it with me?”
“Of course.”
“This night?”
His lip quirked, the expression caught in the lamplight. “You seem eager, little Pict. Can it be that you imagine you might distract me from administering your punishment by offering me the delights of your body?”




Blurb:

Brandr : A Viking Warrior Romance (Viking Surrender #2) by Ashe Barker

Forced to wed the fierce Viking warlord in order to save her people, Eithne has no choice but to surrender to her powerful and terrifying husband. She submits to his stern discipline, but his tenderness takes her breath away. A man of his word, Brandr means to keep his side of their bargain and will see her village safe and protected from their enemies. But what of Eithne? Who will protect her as she learns to care for this ferocious man who now leads her people and holds her heart in his mighty hands?

Buy Links:

mybook.to/Brandr
About the Author:

USA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.
Ashe tends to draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.
Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days - her time is divided between her role as taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises.  And a very grumpy cockatiel. 
At the last count Ashe had around seventy titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.
Ashe has a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keeps thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from her.
Ashe loves to hear from readers. Here are her social media links:
Or you can email her direct on ashe.barker1@gmail.com 

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Guest Post - 1/15/20 - "The Viscount's Pet" by Kryssie Fortune #regency #romance #spanking

His hands rested a few seconds too long on her waist. She relaxed and leaned toward him, but his severe expression condemned her. While her past actions deserved his scorn, it still crushed her.


Excerpt:

The horse and rider appeared from nowhere.
Julianna sidestepped and dropped her bag. Her ankle twisted beneath her, and she tumbled to the ground. When the horseman tugged hard at the reins, the coal-black stallion reared, its forelegs pawed the air. She screamed and closed her eyes. Curled into a ball, she waited for its ebony hooves to pulverize her.
The rider swore, the horse whickering as it planted its feet in the dirt by her face. Tiny dust clouds rose from the road. She coughed and crablike, she scuttled to the fallen oak at the edge of the copse. The bracken smelled earthy, and the thick foliage cushioned her bruised ribs.
Her heart beat overtime when the horseman dismounted and stalked toward her. Wearing a black greatcoat and muffler, he towered over her. Grabbing her wrist, he hauled her upright.
Even in the evening twilight, his hair shone the same blue-black as a raven’s wing. His features were familiar, but she had no idea why. One glance at his steeply angled eyebrows and she wondered if he was the devil come to claim her.
Her brother would have grabbed her shoulders and shaken her until her head ached. That or hurled vile insults at her. Instead, the dark horseman’s eyes twinkled with good humor. She couldn’t decide if they were midnight blue or ebony black. Their mysterious depths and sloping eyebrows gave him a demonic air.
His high cheekbones were so sharp Michelangelo could have chiseled them from marble. There was a cleft in his square chin that she wanted to stroke. His broad, kissable lips made her want to lick and taste, but they were set in a stern, disapproving frown. If he smiled, his dark charisma would mesmerize any nocturnal creatures. Bats, foxes, and badgers would flock to his side.
His utter masculinity sent shudders along her spine. Devilish and terrifying, he emanated menace and danger. She should be shaking in fear, but he sparked wicked longings in her soul.
Untouched and innocent, she hated how her nipples pearled and damp heat creamed between her legs. She needed his lips pressed against hers and his hands on her body. For a woman who’d sworn never to marry, that scared her more than his fury. If not for his tight grip on her shoulders, she’d have run off into the night.
Her pulse still raced, but she buried her fear beneath a haughty manner. “Unhand me, sir. I’m late as it is.”
Rather than let go of her arm, he tugged her closer. He smelled of citrus fruits and freshly gathered mint. When her gaze meshed with his, lightning bolts sizzled between them. Head bent, he moved toward her. She puckered her lips in anticipation.
Blinking, he straightened abruptly. “I could have killed you, you little fool.”
Disappointment crushed her soul. Her ribs ached from Kit’s assault and her ankle throbbed from her fall. Sniffing back tears, she thought of her mother’s pampered cat and tried to out-stare him. “My apologies, sir. I should have been paying attention, not daydreaming along in the twilight. Since neither of us is hurt, we can go on our own ways.”
“Not until you’ve learned your lesson,” he snapped.
Pulling free from his hold, she rubbed her wrist. Nervous, she retreated toward her portmanteau, ready to grab it and run. Shooting forward, he hoisted her over his shoulder. The undignified position made her ribs throb. His hand splayed over her rear end, caressing and stroking it as he pinned her in place.
Five steps and he’d carried her back to the tree trunk. Once settled on it, he thrust her over his knee. “Naughty little girls who risk their lives deserve a spanking. And I’m just the man to give it to you.”


Blurb:

When her brother tries to force her into a marriage with a detestable baron, Julianna Halstead flees the family estate she has helped manage since the death of her parents. But as she makes her escape late at night, Juliana’s carelessness nearly results in her being trampled by a galloping horse, and the steed’s handsome rider takes it upon himself to correct her right then and there.

Though having her bottom bared and soundly spanked on the side of the road leaves Juliana blushing crimson, the punishment arouses her intensely and her body’s helpless response cannot be hidden. To make matters worse, the gentleman over whose lap she was so firmly chastised turns out to be none other than Viscount Stonehurst, someone she has known since childhood.

When Stonehurst learns of Juliana’s predicament, he decides to make her his bride. She will be no ordinary wife, however. She will be something much more shameful. But even as she is leashed, collared, and put on display in a cage wearing only a tail, then brought out to be used in ways no proper lady should enjoy, will Juliana come to love her new life as the viscount’s pet?

Publisher’s Note: The Viscount’s Pet is a stand-alone novel which shares the Regency-era setting of Wickedly Used and His Innocent Bride. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy Links:
Amazon USA

OR READ FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED




About the Author:

Kryssie reads everything and anything, from literary fiction to sizzling romance. Her earliest memory is going to the library with her mother. She can’t have been more than two at the time. Reading, especially when a book’s hot and explicit, is more than a guilty pleasure. It’s an obsession.
Kryssie loves to visit historic sites, from Hadrian’s wall to Regency Bath. The first book she fell in love with was Georgette Heyer’s The Unknown Ajax. After that, she devoured every regency book she could. Part of Kryssie’s psyche lives in in in Regency London. She longs to dance quadrilles and flirt behind fans. Of course, Kryssie’s heroines do far more than flirt.
Kryssie lives in Bridlington on the Yorkshire coast –about thirty miles from Whitby, where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula. She enjoys gardening, travel, and socializing with her author friends. You’d be surprised how many erotic romance authors live in the North of England.

Blog            http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter         https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune
Pinterest      http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc
Goodreads     http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ
Amazon Author Page  http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO