Thursday, November 28, 2013

Dinah McLeod's Heroine gets "Swept Off Her Feet" - Guest Post #Spanking

We're celebrating Thanksgiving out west this year.  So, put on your chaps, strap on your spurs and saddle your pony.  You're about to be swept off your feet....

From the cover of Swept Off Her Feet
Dinah McLeod's new book is the first in her Swift Justice series, so it introduces us to the Swift family, which consists of Maggie, her brothers Wesley and Trent as well as their wives Libby and Abby.  Though this is primarily Maggie and Clayborn's book, we get to meet Maggie's two sexy brothers and their spirited wives. Lots of spanking and "Swift" justice.

Swept Off Her Feet has been on Blushing Book's top seller list since the day it was released.  But rather than have me prattle on about it, I'll let Dinah tell you a little about her story then give you a titillating excerpt.  So, hold on to your hats, buckaroos, we're goin' for a ride....

Twenty-nine years old and still without a husband, Maggie Swift does her best to be happy living on the family ranch. Now that her brothers are both married, however, she cannot help but feel she is being pushed out of her own home by her sisters-in-law… especially Libby. Her brother does his best to keep his bride in line—often with a firm hand applied to her bare bottom—but Maggie cannot seem to reconcile with the beautiful, feisty shopkeepers-daughter.

She has all but resigned herself to miserable spinsterhood, until an absentminded stroll through town leaves her standing unexpectedly in front of a rough-looking saloon. It is there that she is confronted and scolded by the imposing, ruggedly-handsome Clayborn Callahan. Offered a ride with him, Maggie accepts, promising that she will not be missed for a few hours though she knows her brothers will be worried sick.

When her lie is found out, Maggie discovers that her new suitor is more than ready to take her out back and make her cut a switch. In spite of her sore bottom, Maggie feels something for Clayborn that she has never felt for any man, and she is excited when he asks to come calling again. She wonders, though, if she can be the well-behaved woman he expects, or whether she will find herself over his knee more often than her pride and her tender bottom can handle.

            The minute the door swung closed, I walked to my brat of a wife and took her by the arm. I could feel her trembling beneath my fingers, but she was anything but contrite. Libby had always been strong willed, but I knew it wasn’t anything that I couldn’t handle. I led her to the table where we took our meals and pulled a chair out. When I sat down, I brought her to stand in front of me, between my knees.
            “Libby, what were you thinking?” I asked, my voice gruff. By God, the woman was beautiful. I didn’t know how her skin stayed so milky white under the sharp heat of the sun, but I loved it. Her eyes reminded me of violets, although the sweet smell of her skin sweeter than the flowers. We didn’t get much time alone in the house, and my arms ached for her to fill them, but unfortunately my duty as a husband called for me to deal with this unpleasantness.
            “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice sullen.
            I frowned at her. I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible—I had a list of chores to do that was longer than my arm, but Libby could be stubborn at the best of times. “Don’t worry, little lady, you’ll have cause to be sorry soon enough. But that doesn’t answer my question: why’d you do it?”
            “I just…” She huffed loudly, tossing her hair, “I’m tired of you buying presents for that old maid!”
            I was startled by the venom in her words. “Unmarried she might be, but she’s still my sister, Libby.”
            “More to the pity,” she sniffed.
            I arched a brow at her. She sure did have a quick mouth, and all too often it didn’t suit her. “The two of you carrying on like you do is nothing but bad medicine. This needs to stop.”
            “Then tell her to stop acting like such a big bug!” she demanded, pointing an accusing finger at the door. “She walks around her like she owns the place, and you and your brother are just her servants!”
            I guffawed at her. “That’s ridiculous, Libby.             Quit making such a fuss!”
            She turned those pretty eyes on me, and narrowed them in anger. “I am not making a fuss, Wesley Swift! You need to do something about her, I can’t take it any longer!”
            I returned her glare, feeling myself getting incensed now. Clearly my beautiful bride needed a reminder of who wore the pants in this family, and I was determined to give it to her. “I’d suggest you watch that tongue of yours, unless you want me to take you out back to the shed.”
            My words hit their mark, and I saw Libby blanch when she took their meaning. The color began to drain from her face, and she hung her head. It could be that she was well and truly sorry, or she was just backing off to catch her breath. Never could tell with that woman.

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