Friday, April 28, 2017

Guest Post - 4/28/17 - "Marriage, Mobsters and the Marine" by Kryssie Fortune #BDSM #SpankingRomance

Today, we have Kryssie Fortune sharing a tidbit from her novel, "Marriage, Mobsters and the Marine. I have a feeling these two are going to have a lot to talk about when the truth about their preferences finally comes out.

Abigail and Jared marry for mutual convenience, each unaware of the other’s BDSM lifestyle.
Can love blossom despite extortion threats, kidnapping, and attempted murder?


Abigail straightened her blonde wig, put on her mask, and strutted into the Masked Night’s BDSM club like Catwoman. Of course, everyone went incognito here, their names assigned by the vetting committee. Tonight, she’d become Kitty Gail, a sassy sub on her way to a first-ever hookup with the mouthwatering Dom, Master Jay.
The low moans of a woman bent over a spanking bench sounded bittersweet to Abigail’s ears. Knowing she’d never visit the club again added an extra swagger to her step. Not coming back for her monthly spanking would be…difficult. In the real world, she exuded confidence, carefully hiding the scared little girl inside her that even her family had disapproved of.
Damn it, she needed that spanking. It reminded her of how much she’d moved on and let her cope with the doubts that always chipped away at her confidence. The mind-blowing orgasms that followed were an added bonus.
But after tonight, Kitty Gail, with her figure-hugging blue catsuit and mask, would morph back into boring schoolteacher, Abigail Montgomery. Permanently.


Abigail Montgomery, a small town schoolteacher with zero self-confidence, dreams of the Dickensian Christmas her family never enjoyed. Each month she attends a masked BDSM club, but her next visit will be her last. If she doesn’t marry within the next year, her brother won’t inherit Montgomery Hall. Desperate, she advertises for a husband.

Jared Armstrong, a former Marine sharpshooter and occasional Dom needs to $125,000 to get his family out of a hole. His solution—to marry Abigail Montgomery for her money. His only regret is his wife won’t accept his spanking lifestyle.

Gradually, Abigail comes to dream of making their marriage real, but she promised Jared a divorce two years after their wedding. Can they share some Christmas magic as their relationship faces extortion threats, a kidnapping, and an attempted murder? Or will Jared break her heart when he walks away?

Buy Links:

About the Author:

Kryssie’s a girl who loves to shopping, history, and writing. Back in 2001 disaster struck and her heart valve collapse. Even her heart specialist told her to make her will. Prognosis shocking. Outcome amazing. Ever since Kryssie’s been chasing her dreams. She’s visited the ancient Greek sites she read about as child, taken a trip to Pompeii, and visited the Orkney Islands.

Her biggest challenge was writing the book she always swore she’d get around to one day. It took a while, and being dyslexic, she lacked the confidence to self-publish. Fortunately, Loose id accepted her first book, To Wed a Werewolf, and she’s been writing ever since.

Social LInks

Twitter          -,
Blog             -

Friday, April 21, 2017

Guest Post - 4/21/17 - "Submission at the Tower" by Felicity Brandon #BDSM #SpankingRomance

Today Felicity Brandon is on our guest couch to share a tempting excerpt from her BDSM Romance Novel "Submission at the Tower."


A thunderous round of applause fills the air. The sound is so loud that it almost deafens me and a bizarre moment of panic collects in my throat. Now I want out - out of this wooden contraption and away from this public scene. I pull futilely on my trapped limbs and try to get Shaw’s attention over the growing din in the hall.
I try to shout, but even to my own ears my voice doesn’t travel far enough for him to hear me. Being at this angle means that I am effectively shouting down to the floor. Fear and frustration fill me. Where is Shaw? What if he’s wandered off into the crowd and has left me here? Knowing I can’t shift my arms and head, I try my legs instead and begin stamping my feet as hard as I can. I am desperate for his attention and desperate to be out of here! In the midst of my perturbed anxiety, there is only one word left that I can think to shout:
Within an instant Shaw’s legs are there – right in front of me – and he is back crouching down at my face. I don’t wait for him to speak.
“Sir, please,” I beg him. “Please get me out of here now!”
“Of course, little one,” he soothes, “don’t panic, Janie. Breathe… I’ll have you out in just a moment.”
He rises again and those long legs disappear to my right. I soon feel the weight of the wood rising above my head. It’s literally like a substantial burden is lifted from me and yet for some reason I am reluctant to move. It seems ridiculous but it’s as though the stocks have become something of a safety net around me and now – without their support - I feel doubly exposed and humiliated.
Shaw’s body presses into my legs from behind me. His taut body leans in close and spoons me as he reaches up and slides an arm over each of my own. I wince audibly at the sudden hurt I feel as his body presses into my sore behind, but am so enriched by the close contact that I push the pain away. Then his hot breath is on the back of my neck and I hear him. This time his words are like nourishment to my starving body.
“It’s okay, Janie, I’m here… I’m right here.”
He kisses the back of my shoulder and my eyes close reflexively. Such a tender interlude is utterly unexpected at this moment.
“I need you to lift yourself out of the stocks now, little one. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, sir,” I murmur, although the words do not seem to come out.
I brace myself and using whatever will I have remaining, I raise my head from the wooden block. The movement is tentative at first and then surreal. My head feels so heavy and the ache in the neck is once again overwhelming. As I rise I feel Shaw removing my wrists from their prisons and drawing my arms gently back into my body. Then he wraps himself around me like a warm cocoon and holds me. For a long moment there is nothing further. I exist only in this instant, wrapped up in Shaw’s enticing scent and body heat.
“Well done, little one,” he whispers into my right ear as he caresses the length of my shin with his hand. “You were splendid in those stocks.”
I close my eyes and feel his soft kisses on my neck. I have become a bubble of contentment in his arms and genuinely nothing else matters to me at this moment. My life before this day feels like something I read once in a novel. I remember the plot, but the details are sketchy. I rest my aching neck back against him. Shaw shifts his weight backwards and manoeuvres my body so that his left arm slips underneath my knees and his right one supports my back.
I’m aware that he is lifting me from the floor. I know I am safe in his arms and on some level I couldn’t care less where he is taking me, so long as we’re together. Still the movement is unnerving, so I open my eyes a little to see what is happening. We are already down from the platform and Shaw is stalking across the hall. From this vantage I finally get to absorb the stunning décor of the place. So long the focus of the room, I am amazed to see the grandiose furnishings around us. Magnificent looking golden drapes hang from the floor length windows just ahead of us, framing a number of gold and burgundy chaise-lounges. Most are occupied with suited men and nude, kneeling women. The sumptuousness reminds me of something you might see in a palace. I try not to look around me, but instead keep my eyes in the direction Shaw is taking us. I snuggle into his heat and take deep breaths into his shirt, inhaling him as though Shaw himself has become the oxygen I need to live.


"This is not a love story. This is the story of the hunger inside of me which must be fed before it consumes me entirely…"

After a chance encounter with a handsome stranger introduces her to The Tower, an institution that trains women in submission, Janie McClusky is irresistibly drawn to the place. But admittance comes at a price, and soon enough Janie is utterly bare and fully on display, blushing crimson as the men at The Tower thoroughly explore her body, bringing her pain, pleasure, and shame as they see fit.

As Janie’s training begins, there is one man among the group who seems to know her own needs better than she does, and before long she finds herself yearning and even begging for his touch. But if she relinquishes control completely to this captivating stranger and allows him to break down her remaining defences, will there be any coming back at all?

Publisher’s Note: Submission at The Tower is an erotic novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, extensive BDSM content, exhibitionism, anal play, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy Links:

About the Author:

Amazon #1 international best-seller of the salacious, erotic & romantic.
Golden Flogger Finalist 2016, Spanking Romance Reviews runner-up.
#BDSM, #spanking, #submission.
Wicked Pen Writer with Mr. Blackthorne.
18+ My books contain explicit material and scenes of intense D/s sex.

Facebook profile:

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Guest Post - 4/5/17 - Theirs: Found & Claimed by Ashe Barker #Erotic #SciFiRomance #Menage

Today we have Ashe Barker on out guest couch to offer a tantalizing tidbit from her alien menage release "Theirs: Found & Claimed." Before we start I asked her a question about her writing, which she answered.

Why do you enjoy writing sci-fi?
Because I love the idea of playing God. I can create just the world(s) I want, set up whatever social system suits my story, and craft the most amazing characters. The usual laws of physics, time, and cultural behavior don’t count so the story-telling can be much more creative and inventive in an alternative universe. Stories which might be really controversial if written as a contemporary romance can be ‘cloaked’ in a sci-fi.

I totally agree, although I sort of feel that way about any book I write. However, for my contemporaries I do adhere to the laws of physics and time. As to my characters' cultural behavior and mores, I also insist my hero and heroine stick to a rather rigid code.

 Her past gone, her future unknown, and a love that is out of this world

“How much longer?”
“This session, maybe a couple more hours. Then I’ll see how she does on her own. The virus might well start to multiply though as soon as I disengage, so I’ll probably need to link us up again fairly soon to complete the job. Assuming her autoimmune system isn’t compromised, though, she should be all right after that.”
Luca nods, his attention now drawn to the exquisite form of the petite alien nestled at my side. I can’t say I blame him; she is nothing short of stunning.
“Fine-looking females, these Fyorlians,” he observes. “No body hair, apart from on her head.”
I had noticed that. No eyebrows either, though she has long eyelashes in the same bluish black of her hair. I can’t find it in myself to argue with Luca’s overall assessment.
I wait another three hours before I ask Luca to disconnect the tubes from the alien’s cannulas. She is starting to stir a little now, and she seems restless. We need to handle the next stage with care. She’ll be fucking confused when she does regain consciousness and we have no idea how she might react to the presence of two alien males, and to finding herself on another ship, though she shows no sign of wanting to move away from me. If anything, she is clinging to my side even more tightly.
Before long, her eyelids flutter and she cracks them open to reveal irises of a deep amethyst shade. At once she closes her eyes again, her forehead crinkling. Luca calls out the command to CAID to lower the illumination in here. The sound of his voice seems to cause her to curl into a ball and we exchange a glance. This is not going to be easy.
I’m just considering whether to try to speak to her again when suddenly, all hell breaks loose. The soft, pliant body in my arms becomes rigid and she hurls herself across the bed. She kneels up, glaring at me, then at Luca, her small fists raised as though to batter us into submission. Neither of us moves.
“It’s okay,” I offer. “You’re safe here.”
Her beautiful eyes flash and she lets loose a stream of incomprehensible sounds. I suppose ‘get your hands off me, you bastard’ is much the same in any language.
“CAID, activate multilingual sensors and translators, please.” Luca issues the request, then steps forward to speak to her, his tone low and even. “Do you want to try that again, honey?”
She swivels her head to peer at him, clearly bewildered, though it is equally obvious that she understood what he said this time. We both attempt a reassuring smile.
She opens her mouth again, closes it, then, “Why am I naked? And what are you doing in my bed?”
Luca laughs out loud, the fucking moron. “Ah, sweetheart, I don’t blame you for taking issue with that. Please forgive my companion’s clumsy approach, his skills as a lover have never been up to much.”
“Lover?” She narrows her eyes at me, though I like to think Luca is included in her general disgust at the situation.
I seek to rectify matters. “Ignore my colleague’s inane ramblings, he’s an idiot and can’t help himself. I believe he was dropped on his head in a previous life.”
The Fyorlian backs away from me, only halting her retreat when she comes up against the wall. “What is this previous life? Who are you and where is this place?” She lowers her fists, but only to attempt to cover her perfect breasts from our perusal. Her expression is accusing now, and fearful though I suppose that is to be expected. “Where are my clothes?”
Ah, her terror of us seems to be for reasons I had not entirely expected. This, I can put right.
“You were naked when we found you and we assumed that was your preferred state.” I get to my feet and move slowly across the room to the closet where I store my clothes. I grab a loose shirt and toss it on the bed in front of her. “You can wear that, for now, until we find you something more suitable.”
The alien doesn’t move. It’s as though she has no notion what the shirt is or why I am offering it to her. I step forward again and pick it up, then open the buttons. I drape it around her shoulders. “There. Better?”
She grabs the fabric and clutches it before her chest.
“So, if your nudity is such a problem for you, why were you naked when we found you?” It seems a fair enough question to me, and we have to start somewhere.
The alien glares at me, her pretty mouth working. Her brow furrows, as though she is trying to remember. She takes her time before responding. “I was alone. Who, then, might I dress for?”
“Okay,” I agree. “Fair enough. So—”
“Who are you and why have you brought me here?” She interrupts my next question with some of her own. Her expression is wary as she looks from Luca to me then back again. “What do you intend to do to me?”
Ah, such delightful possibilities occur to me, and I daresay to Luca too, but now is not the time.


When they board a derelict spacecraft in search of valuable scrap metal, the last thing Luca and Sylvan expect is to stumble upon a beautiful, naked woman in need of medical assistance. Despite her protests, they bring her back to their ship, treat her illness, and take it upon themselves to look after her.

After she contracted the virus that wiped out her people and killed everyone else on her ship, Llianna didn’t expect to survive, and she is shocked when she awakens from a comatose state with two men standing over her. Once she regains her health, however, she is horrified to realize that she is about to enter her fertile period, a uniquely vulnerable time for females of her species.

Knowing that she will end up begging Luca and Sylvan to take her in any way they please if she doesn’t act quickly, she flees in her partially-repaired ship, only to be caught, stripped bare, and spanked soundly. The stern punishment leaves her desire burning even more fiercely, and soon she is writhing in ecstasy as her handsome rescuers claim her hard and thoroughly.

Though Luca and Sylvan make it clear that she is free to go once her ship is finally fully operational again, Llianna finds herself yearning to belong to them completely, and as she learns to submit to their firm, loving dominance, her passion for them grows more intense with each passing day. But when she discovers that she is not the last of her kind after all, will she leave the men she loves to live amongst her own people?

Publisher’s Note: Theirs: Found and Claimed includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy Links:

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling author Ashe Barker writes erotic romance and spanking romance in a variety of genres including contemporary, BDSM, paranormal, historical. ménage, gay romance and time travel. She is a #1 Amazon Bestseller and all her stories feature hot alpha males and sassy submissives, often with a lot to learn. Kink abounds, and there’s enough dirty talk to satisfy the most demanding smut lover. However dark and dirty the setting, love always emerges triumphant, and her stories never fail to deliver a satisfying happy ever after.