The Trouble With Abby, my newest book in The O'Malley saga is doing quite well. The reviews are heart-warming and I can't tell you how much I appreciate the support of my readers. Thanks so much for sticking with me as I struggle to make each book better than the last.
Today I'm sharing an excerpt I haven't shared before, hope you enjoy it.
Connor McCabe recognized Abby as someone who needed looking after from the moment he met her and immediately appointed himself her protector. A former Navy Seal, used to being respected and obeyed, it wasn’t long before he was taking her in hand, determined to instill some sense into her beautiful head. In his opinion, Abby was a little wild, drank too much and was entirely too confident in her martial arts skills.
Abigail Stevens’s diminutive size was one of the reasons she pursued her back belt. A girl had to know how to take care of herself in today’s world. She was proud of her accomplishments, even if her overgrown G.I. Joe didn’t take her seriously. Sure he was stronger and when he pulled her over his knees there wasn’t much doubt who was in charge, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable. It just meant that she was crazy about the dominant man, or maybe just plain crazy. In her mind the jury was still out.
When danger threatens Abby and those she holds dear, Connor and the other men in the O’Malley’s tight-knit circle do everything in their power to protect their women. As frustration and tensions mount the power struggle between Abby and Connor escalates, putting their entire relationship at risk until a hero makes a move, one that will change everything.
“What about me?” he demanded roughly. “Do you think if something happens to you, if I allow something to happen to you, I’ll just go on? No regrets? No lasting scars? Is that what you imagine?”
“Of course not,” she insisted, “but nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m going to take this prick down, Connor, one way or another.”
“What makes you so sure you can do this?” he said, walking away from her and beginning to pace. “And don’t even tell me about your black belt,” he snapped.
“I know how you feel about that, but this guy’s not you, Connor. He’s not military trained. He’s not Special Forces. He’s a drunk and a bully, and he gets off on terrorizing women. He’s stupid, and I can outsmart him. I’m younger and faster, and I’m not afraid, at least not for myself.”
“How can you say that, Abby?” Connor demanded, still shaking his head in the negative. “What if this guy has a gun?” he yelled, turning back to her. “Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Why the fuck not?” he roared facing her with his hands planted firmly on his hips.
“Because so do I,” she said softly, never taking her eyes from his.
Connor was speechless. It was true, just the tone of her voice told him that. But where had she gotten a gun? When? He’d been with her nearly every moment since this started. How in the hell did this get by him?
“Where is it?”
“In a safe place.”
“Where?” he demanded sharply.
“I’m not telling,” she stated flatly, inspecting her nail to avoid looking at him.
“Oh, yes you are! I want to know where it is and where you got it from.”
“And I’m not telling,” she repeated slowly. “So don’t bother trying to intimidate me.”
“Do I need to spank it out of you? I will if I have to,” he warned.
“You can try, but it’s not going to change anything. This is too important. I’ll never give up that information, so you can just forget about it,” she said firmly.
Connor laughed, but it had a bitter sound to it.
“Little girl, do you think I don’t know a million ways to make you tell me?” he asked ominously.
“Actually, I believe you. You probably can make me tell you but it won’t solve anything. It will just hurt me and make me hate you,” she whispered.
“All right, Abby, don’t tell me; I’ll find it on my own, and when I do, I’m going to spank you silly,” he promised as he began looking around the store.
Thanks for stopping by.
Six months of training. Six months to find a placement. Three years with a Daddy. Fifty thousand dollars. Some girls begged to get into the program, but not Sara or Caity. They took the "alternative program for non-violent offenders" when the State of New York's Women's Facility was full. They became little girls in Trace's program.
Sara was placed with a daddy named Mark when Livvy, another little girl in the program, had gotten sick because of Sara's jealousy. Now, after two long months in the program, Sara has to get used to a whole new set of rules and the man who will enforce them: her Daddy will dominate her and take care of her in a special way no one ever has before. The witness protection program can't compare to her "protector".
Caity has been the unwanted child all her life. Her father hates her and her mother ran away years before. The only family she really has is her sister, who isn't in the program, yet. But Caity didn't choose her new Daddy... Will he be able to prove his love, or will he prove he is just like her real father?
Did Sara and Caity make the right choice, coming to the program instead of the State Penitentiary? Can they get along when Sara has taken the man Caity wanted all along?
Emily Tilton and Abbie Adams team up to bring you the much requested story of the "other girls" in this, the third book in the 'A Little Training' and 'A Little Trouble' series
Daddy pulled her onto his lap. "Want to tell me what's bothering you?" He cupped her chin in his hand and tipped her face to his. "Hmm? Are you upset that Sara is here?"
She sat up straight and tried to jerk away. "No! Why would I be worried about her?" His grip on her jaw was firm, and she couldn't get away from his intense scrutiny. "I was hoping to go back to the river today, but now I'm worried you will be too busy, is all."
"We'll see about it. Now, I want you to be a good girl. You will won't you?" He held her hand as he stood them both up and led her out the door.
She nodded instead of speaking, unaware she was actually holding her breath. Sara sat there on the couch, stiffly facing away as if nervous. Caity went right by without a word to her.
She pretended to be hungry and preoccupied, but a huge rock sat in her tummy, and the soft scrambled eggs on her plate did not allure her. She had to fight herself not to look behind her again; she wanted to watch Sara, to see if she could read her, tell anything about her thoughts.
She met Livvy's eyes when she finally came in and sat across the table. Caity would've thought Livvy was unaffected by Sara's presence, if not for the way her hand shook as she drew her juice to her lips.
"Is Daddy here?" Livvy asked Uncle Jeremy softly, when he set her plate down.
"Yes, he's in the office. Why is everyone so quiet this morning?" He looked around the table with a curious face, one eyebrow arched higher than the other. "Is something going on I don't know about?"
"Sara," Uncle Matt said, while reaching for more sausage links. It almost came out like a cough, and Caity wondered if he was uncomfortable with her arrival as well.
"She's already eaten," Daddy replied as he sat down next to Caity, then clarified, "Sara has already eaten."
"Why is she here?" Caity mumbled, then shrunk a little when Daddy gave her a look.
"She is here because her daddy has to work and every one of you will be nice to her and behave as you would like to be treated if you were in her place. And now that you have all been warned, there will be severe consequences if you young ladies are of a mind to disobey in this
regard. Do you understand me?" He eyed each of the girls around the table, one at a time, until they all agreed.
Thanks for stopping by my blog today. I hope you enjoyed a sample of A Little Twist. Abbie Adams and Emily Tilton are both popular authors in the Age-Play genre.
Abigail Steven's life changed the moment she woke up in Connor McCabe's bed. The former Navy Seal has his own code of conduct, and is hell-bent on teaching Abby a thing or two about proper behavior, for her own good, of course.
Abby thinks the bossy, overgrown G.I Joe is gorgeous. He made her heart flutter and her knees weak, but she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. After all, she has a black belt for cripes sake.
Connor disagrees and has no problem pulling her over his knee for a little convincing. Adjusting a naughty female attitude is right up his alley.
When trouble comes to The O'Malley family, Abby and Connor suddenly find themselves up to their necks in danger. The women need a hero, but who will it be?
As soon as this shows up on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, I'll post the links. Hope you like the latest book in The O'Malley saga.
Take one hot summer. Add in an intellectual chemist and a dominant retired Marine. Once the chemistry ignites, combustion is soon to follow.
Chemistry of Attraction
By Thianna D.
Retired Marine Brandon Delt, moves to Corbin’s Bend after his recently divorced wife marries his cousin. Tired of living a non-discipline lifestyle, he fully welcomes the openness of the Corbin’s Bend spanking community. One day he hopes to meet the woman he could make his TiH. He doesn’t expect to meet her on day one.
Carodine Minor’s just in Corbin’s Bend for the summer. Just graduated with her master’s degree in chemistry, Dina isn’t sure of her next step in life. Not once has she ever considered being spanked. Logical woman that she is, when she finds herself intrigued by the idea of a hand across her derriere, she asks for a demonstration from Brandon. One demo turns into a wild night of passion neither wants to let go of.
There was a momentary silence and then one of his hands rested on her lower back and the other lifted. Slap! His hand came down harder than this afternoon, heat sizzling in its wake. Before she even felt the warmth that bloomed from it, he hit her other cheek. Back and forth he went, covering her entire derriere with hard slaps until her entire rear end felt like a light sunburn.
But she didn’t care. Each smack of his hand lit up something inside of her, something primal, raw, animalistic. Arching her back, she growled softly when his hand slammed right between her cheeks. Each slap produced its own sound, but she barely heard them, her left brain utterly fascinated by the sounds coming out of her own mouth. When his hand came down on that sensitive crease between buttocks and thighs, her logical brain blanked out. What remained was wanton, needy, and craving everything the man at her side could give her.
“More!” she cried out as he hit her sit spot again. Her entire body felt like a coiled spring and she so wanted to be sprung. All she needed was just a few more. Just a few more. Please, just a few more.
Brandon had other plans. “Spread your legs,” he commanded and she rushed to obey, not wanting him to stop. “Fuck, you’re so wet, beauty,” he murmured, the fingers of his spanking hand drifting between her legs, stroking along her clit and delving into her core.
“More,” she whimpered as those wonderfully strong, large fingers began to fuck her, rubbing against something that made her arch more and let out a low keen. So close. She was so close. It wouldn’t take much more to send her over. Damn, he--
As his hand that had been on her lower back came down right on her rump, the world exploded. Lights burst in front of her eyes even as her cunt spasmed and she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Her muscles clenched and squeezed, pulling her through the roughest orgasm she had ever felt.
And it wasn’t over yet.
Thianna D. likes to say she’s eclectic, fun, and just a bit naughty. She writes erotica and erotic romance with both M/F and M/M main characters. No matter what she writes, all the hot scenes support the story instead of the other way around.
She’s also the creator of and acquisition editor for the Corbin’s Bend spanking romance series. Who else wants to be safe, secure, and spanked in Colorado?
Where you can find her:
Thianna’s Website - http://www.thiannad.com/
Thianna’s Blog - http://blog.thiannad.com/
Corbin’s Bend - http://www.corbinsbend.com/
Facebook Author Page - https://www.facebook.com/AuthorThiannaD
Twitter - https://twitter.com/the_weremouse
Pinterest - http://www.pinterest.com/thiannad/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6569172.Thianna_D_
Thanks for stopping by today.
The four book set of Sugar Babies, Inc. is now on available. Here's a peek into Book 2, Match Me If You Dare.
Marcus learned two important lessons in life; trust your gut and never hide your true nature. The first made him a best-selling author, and the second kept him single. Dragging his twin brother Ty to a match-making party was a split-second decision. Sam, owner and CEO of Sugar Babies, Inc., made frequent offers to find him the perfect woman. 'Perfect woman' was an oxymoron and if such a creature existed, he wasn't interested. It was difficult to justify spanking a well-behaved young lady and Marcus had no intention of giving up his favorite past-time. If nothing else, the party might help get the sassy red-head in the death- defying heels out of his head.
“Still trying to rule the world with a pair of shoes, I see,” Marcus noted, looking down at her feet.
“I am not trying to rule anything,” Susan insisted. “I like high heels, so sue me. Now about that drink…”
“There’s dancing out on the veranda. I think you and I will take a little stroll out there,” he informed her firmly, taking her arm, “and have a little talk. How tall are you anyway, without those weapons?”
“I’m five feet eight and hardly what you would call short,” she sassed grumpily, forced to go with him or make a scene.
“You’re also a liar. Now what’s the truth?”
“Okay, if you want to get nitpicky about it, I’m five four. There does that make you happy? Do you have a height fetish or what?” she hissed as he guided her out the French doors.
“As if happens, I do have a fetish, but it has nothing to do with height. I enjoy spanking naughty young ladies who misbehave.”
“No kidding,” she shot back as he twirled her into his arms and began to move to the slow, soulful music. “Who would have guessed it, I mean with you being here and all?”
“Funny,” he replied, snagging her closer. “What brings you to a Sugar Babies party? You’re obviously not submissive. Are you hoping to be their first dominant female?” he asked, smiling. Not that she could see it. She was much too close to watch his face.
Susan struggled slightly, trying to put a little space between them but he was obviously not having it. They were pressed together from her thighs to her breasts, so close she could hear his heart beating. Damn, why did he have to smell so delicious?
“Money,” she answered shortly, finally relaxing in his arms. There was no point in fighting a losing battle, and Susan did not like to lose.
“Well, at least you’re honest about that,” he murmured into her hair.
“I want you,” he told her simply, as if he had the world by the tail and had only to state his desires to achieve them.
It was true; she felt him against her belly, hard and apparently unashamed of it. Truth be told, she was quite wet herself. Imagine responding to his caveman approach, she thought in surprise. If ever a man needed to be taken down a peg or two, this was that man, she decided.
“Why me?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. For some reason this guy was getting to her. “Why not Kelsey or someone similar?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Apart from the obvious?” he asked, as his erection became even more prominent than it had been.
Good grief, she thought, how much bigger would it get? Sighing, she decided to just enjoy the sensation of being blatantly desired, as tremors rocked her core.
“Yes, apart from the obvious.”
“Kelsey’s a charming little girl and I expect she will need some minor correction from time to time. She will be compliant for the most part and a sweet little bundle to come home to. I’m sure my brother is making his move, even as we speak. Ty’s a gentle man unless something riles him and then he can be a force to be reckoned with, but I doubt Kelsey has the disposition to truly make him angry. I, however, have a darker side to my nature.”
“Do tell,” she drawled sarcastically. “Is there more?”
Marcus laughed with a rich deep rumble in his chest that weakened her knees, and she found herself clutching his shoulder.
“Of course there’s more. Do you think I’m so shallow that I would pick the first girl who agreed to be spanked?”
“How would I know? You’re here for exactly that and I’m here for the money. I think it’s pretty clear what we both want.”
“What a cynic,” he said, shaking his head. “All right, allow me to elaborate. There have been a number of women in my bed over the years that enjoyed a little slap and tickle, so to speak. I want a relationship, a woman who will be a partner. If I were looking for a one night stand believe me I could find it or buy it. No, I want a relationship that is long term. I am a dominant man, I admit it, and I have no desire to spend months courting a woman who will run screaming to her mama the first time I correct her poor behavior. It’s best to be upfront and open about what I expect. I will be the undisputed head of my own home, no exceptions. My woman will be loved to within an inch of sanity in the bedroom and cherished and protected outside of it as well. She will also be disciplined as I see fit, if she breaks the rules. It’s really very simple.”
“I see,” Susan said, with a smirk she made no effort to hide. In her mind ‘boots’ would last about ten minutes in her bed and she’d have him eating out of her hand. “So, that brings us back to the original question, why me?”
“To put it delicately, my body responds to yours in a way it hasn’t for another woman in a very long time. I’ve thought about you constantly since we met in the bookstore. You’re beautiful, obviously, but more than that you’re sassy and opinionated and quite funny. With your attitude, I’m sure you will spend a great deal of your time over my knee, which I will enjoy immensely and you will abhor, but that’s as it should be.”
“What if I’m good, very, very good?” she asked, walking her fingers up his chest and looking at him from under her lashes as the music came to a stop.
“I will still spank you, frequently, but it will be a different kind of spanking. But for some reason I can’t picture you being good,” he whispered in her ear. “Oh there is one other thing,” he told her, straightening. “You do have a perfect ass.”
“Yes, there is that,” Susan agreed, looking over her shoulder and checking out her butt.
Marcus laughed, wrapped an arm around her and pulled her tight against him. His head lowered and his lips took hers in a kiss so possessive and fierce she was dizzy within a heartbeat. Gripping his jacket she held on for dear life as the world spun away. He released her far too quickly and her head dropped weakly to his chest.
“Shit,” she mumbled.
“Exactly,” he replied as he began steering her toward the door.
When Sasha Deschamps unwittingly attracts the attention of a strange man on her late night walk home from work, she winds up with a supernatural guest she can’t get rid of. The dominant immortal demands her complete submission and cooperation, refusing to free her until she has performed an act of magick, one which she does not know how to even begin.
Charlie sees the power in Sasha and believes she has the ability to undo the curse placed on him by a jealous lover over one hundred years before. He also loves toying with the feisty witchling, doling out humiliating punishments while arousing a lust in her that leaves them both hungry for satisfaction.
Emotionally detached to the point of amorality, his motto has been “friendly with many, close to none”, but he finds himself falling for Sasha, believing he might be able to trust a woman again. When he discovers she is actually the reincarnated witch who cursed him, though, his world turns on end. Can he believe she has returned to his life to heal the rift between them? Or will he walk away from her again, as he did so many years ago?
Publishers Note: This book contains elements of BDSM including spanking, bondage and erotic sex scenes.
BUY NOW at Amazon Amazon UK Barnes & Noble ARe
Charlie held Sasha up as her legs buckled and she gave herself over to her beautiful climax. If orgasming was an Olympic sport, he’d bet anything on Sasha taking the gold. Truly, to be able to give herself over to such powerful pleasure was a special talent—no, an art.
When her bottom had stopped jerking, he stopped spanking and admired her lovely form draped limply over his arm. Her hair fell like a shimmering curtain around her face, her little hands reached for the floor, but she didn’t quite reach it.
He lifted her upright and gently turned her to face him, pulling her close.
She looped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest, her entire body trembling.
He kissed the top of her head. “Sweet little witchling,” he murmured endearingly. I love you. He wouldn’t allow himself to say the words, but he thought them. How had she so thoroughly captured his heart in such a short amount of time?
He felt waves of bliss rolling off her and he realized with surprise, that her pleasure was enough. He didn’t need his own release. Even if she never managed to lift the curse, he could be content with this. Even the ache in his balls did not sour the moment. In fact, he accepted the throb, almost relishing it, perhaps the way his little witch liked her spankings.
He lifted her face from his shirt and kissed her deeply, trying to express the emotion he felt for her.
She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.
“Go put on something pretty, I’m taking you to dinner,” he said when they broke apart. He had the urge to spoil her a little, or show off, like some crazy caveman who just dragged a woman home and wants to show he’s a good provider.
About the Author:
Darling Adams is a naughty author who loves writing about hot alpha males, Dominance, submission and power exchanges.
She also writes spanking romance under the name Renee Rose.
Connect with the author online:
To celebrate the release of my Sugar Babies, Inc. boxed set, over the next few days I will be posting some of my favorite excerpts, one from each book. In A Sweet and Sassy Match, Sam explains to Johanna what type of man he is on their very first 'real' date.
Sam was waiting outside the restaurant when the cab pulled up. Opening her door he flipped the driver a twenty before she could even get her purse opened. Taking her hand, he assisted her from the cab, right into his arms. With one arm around her waist, Jo was flush against him as he lifted her still captured hand and softly kissed the back.
“I know, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes staring up into his.
“It’s alright, this time,” Sam replied, turning her toward the restaurant’s entrance. Just before she walked through the door ahead of him, his large hand smacked her quickly on the butt. “Don’t let it happen again,” he warned her, his voice deep and quiet.
Jo froze about two feet inside the door. “Did you just slap my ass?” she questioned him as a flush spread over her cheeks. Her accusing indigo eyes were wide as she looked over her shoulder.
Sam simply wrapped an arm around her waist and propelled her farther into the interior, signaling the hostess, who escorted them to a private table in the corner. “Shhh,” Sam said quietly. “We’ll talk in a moment.”
Jo let him seat her against her better judgment. Her bottom felt just the tiniest sting under her thin skirt and skimpy panties. Studying him as he thanked the hostess and settled in his chair, she again was struck by his confidence and stature. The waiter appeared before Jo could speak.
“Would you like a cocktail before dinner?” Sam asked smoothly, his eyes smiling at her impatience.
“No,” Jo answered crisply, her fingernails drumming softly on the table.
“I’ll have a Beam on the rocks, and bring the lady a glass of white wine,” Sam told the waiter, ignoring Jo’s attitude. As the waiter turned away, Sam reached across the table, taking Jo’s hand in his and putting a stop to her restless fingers. “You look lovely tonight,” he said sincerely. “Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me.”
Jo swallowed as she looked into his reassuring gaze. Her hand tingled where his thumb stroked the back. She tried to pull it away from him, but he wouldn’t allow it, settling his other hand over the top of hers, trapping it between his large hands.
“I’m not sure I’m staying for dinner,” she informed him. “Not unless you answer my question.”
The waiter returned with their drinks, and Jo used that to extract her warm hand and wrap it around the wine glass, taking a gulp of the drink she had not wanted. Sam said they would be ready to order in a few minutes and sat back in his chair as soon as they were alone. He knew exactly what question Jo was referring to. Her lovely face was flushed, her hands trembling slightly as she held her glass. Her indigo eyes were troubled and she chewed softly on her bottom lip. He was delighted. Most women would have laughed it off, a little slap and tickle, an inane sexual prelude to possible activities later in the evening. Jo knew exactly what it was, a reprimand for her tardiness. Her reaction to that small spank would tell him many things. It would determine just how much he shared with her about his business and how quickly. By the end of the evening, he would know if the feelings she inspired were a fluke and he should move on, or if she might be the one he had been searching a lifetime for. Taking a sip of his drink, he looked directly into her eyes as he spoke, and it was not an apology.
“The answer to your question, Jo, is yes. I did smack your ass. You were late.”
“I apologized for that,” Jo insisted indignantly.
“Yes, and I accepted, but you need to know there are consequences in life, Jo. There will always be consequences with me for tardiness or other unacceptable behavior.”
To say Jo was flabbergasted would be an understatement. After she collapsed back against her chair, her mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. For several moments she digested his words as Sam calmly waited for her response.
“Don’t you think that attitude is a little outdated, even old-fashioned maybe?” she asked when she finally found her voice.
“Absolutely,” he agreed, without an ounce of uncertainty. “I’m sure the feminists of this world would like nothing better than to string me up as a bad example.”
“Then why would you…?”
The waiter appeared to take their order, and for the next several minutes, Sam discussed with her what choices she would like. After they decided, the waiter disappeared and the conversation continued. Jo found herself listening intently, intrigued. No matter how off base Sam appeared to be, she had to respect his confidence and determination.
“I know who I am, Jo. And I know what kind of woman I’m looking for. I have no doubt that when I find her I will make her very happy.”
Jo snorted. “What woman would be happy to be controlled 24/7? I can’t think of anyone I know who would want to be under some man’s thumb, with consequences for what he would consider misbehavior.”
“You’re wrong, Jo,” Sam said, pausing while their salads were served, and grinning when Jo ordered another glass of wine. “What you’re referring to would be the absolute other end of the spectrum. That would be a master/slave relationship where every aspect of the woman’s life would be controlled and monitored. I have no desire for that type of relationship. I’m talking about something entirely different.”
Jo speared a cherry tomato and considered. “How would it be different, in what way? You obviously want to be the one in charge, handing out smacks for infractions. Maybe that would progress to actual beatings over time?”
Sam’s eyes narrowed, pinning her in place. “That would never happen, Jo. I protect and cherish what is mine,” he growled.
“Sorry,” she told him softly, a quiver of fear trembling in her tummy. “I’m just trying to understand your position.”
“I know it’s difficult to comprehend if you have no previous experience with it. Think of it as a loving and benevolent father, putting his daughter’s well-being above all else. Cherishing and protecting her, guiding her and yes, providing discipline when it is needed.”
`”I’m afraid that would be a stretch for me, Sam,” Jo informed him with a bitter twist to her lips. “My father was nothing like that. The only thing he cared about was having a good time with an endless parade of women. He finally deserted us when I was thirteen, and while he never physically abused me or my mother, he made it perfectly clear that we were an impediment to the life he wanted. Cherishing, protecting and guiding, well that was not something he had time for,” she finished, unaware of just how much she had revealed.
“What money he did make was for his personal enjoyment.”
“Jo, I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered, reaching across the table and firmly taking her hand.
Jo laughed, not aware of how hollow it sounded. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Sam. My mother and I did all right. Student loans and part time jobs put me through college, and I manage to take care of any of my mother’s expenses that she can’t afford.”
“It must have been difficult for you, taking on so much responsibility at such a young age. I take it your mother isn’t in good health?”
“No, she’s not,” Jo answered, finishing her wine and looking around for the waiter.
Their dinner arrived and they continued to talk while they ate. Sam was charming, and Jo found herself relaxing and enjoying herself, despite the somewhat rocky start to their evening. Jo tried to get more information out of him about his business, but Sam just smiled and told her, “Soon.” Now what the hell did that mean?
When their waiter came to clear away their plates, Jo asked for another glass of wine. Sam looked at her in surprise and instructed the waiter to bring them coffee.
“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” Sam asked, choosing to ignore, for the moment, Jo’s mutinous expression as she picked up her purse and pulled out her wallet.
“Yes, so?” she asked, pulling out a twenty dollar bill. “I can buy my own wine, Sam, if it’s a problem.”
“Buying you a glass of wine isn’t a problem, Jo. The problem would be in sending you home drunk, and you’ve already had three glasses. Now put your money away and stop trying to push my buttons. Believe me, you won’t like the results.”
“Push your buttons?” Jo gasped, the slight buzz she had making her voice louder than she intended.
“Yes,” Sam insisted firmly just as the waiter appeared with the coffee. Sam thanked him and slid Jo’s coffee closer to her. “Now be a good girl and drink that. Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re curious Jo. Wondering about that spank I gave you earlier? Wondering if I truly mean everything I’ve told you tonight? You’re thinking only a crazy woman would agree to the kind of dynamics I’ve described. After all, what woman would want a man so totally devoted to her that he paid attention to every little detail of her life? What woman would want a man who knew her so well that nothing slipped by him? If she was upset or angry or hurt, he would know it and do everything humanly possible to help her.
“A man who would care for her as if she were the most precious thing in his world, because she is.”
Jo squirmed in her seat. It was clear he meant exactly what he said. Butterflies danced in her tummy as her heartbeat thumped at her temples. Her panties were damp and it appalled her. God, yes, she thought him attractive, but now doubly so. She couldn’t imagine someone taking care of her for a change, and it was a heady thought and oh so tempting. She actually couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked her what they could do for her. Had there ever been someone to hold her when she cried, or to reassure her when she was worried or weary? Her hands trembled as she picked up the coffee cup and obeyed him. Jo knew she’d had too much to drink, but hadn’t been able to stop herself from ordering another one. This evening was nothing like she had expected, and she was truly rattled. After several sips of the strong brew, she pulled herself together.
“That’s quite a lovely picture you paint, Sam, especially for someone like me. But you already knew that, didn’t you? I don’t know how, but you did,” Jo told him, tipping her head to one side and looking quizzically at him. “The problem at the heart of such a relationship would be the loss of control, for me at least. I don’t think I could just throw myself into your arms and say, here I am, take care of me.”
“You’d be surprised at what a freeing experience that can be, Jo,” Sam said, looking into her deep blue eyes and trying not to notice how much darker the circles under them looked in only a short time. “Yes, it would involve giving up some control. I would expect a woman of mine to listen to me and trust that I always have her best interests at heart, especially when it comes to her health and safety. But as I said before, I’m not looking for a slave. There are two kinds of people in this world, Jo, the givers and the takers. The best relationships are formed when you have two givers, both parties working together to build the best union possible.”
“And you would be the giver of spankings?” she asked, leaning back in her chair and forcing her eyes to meet his squarely, despite her shaking hands.
“Yes,” Sam replied firmly. “Among other things, I would administer any discipline if it was called for.
“Suppose, just for curiosity’s sake, you were to do something I didn’t like. Would I be able to ah…discipline you?” Jo asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer to that one.
Sam laughed. “I’m flexible sweetheart, but not that flexible. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes,” Jo sighed, looking at her watch. “I need to call a cab.”
“I’ll take you home,” Sam replied, signaling for the check.
Jo thought about arguing the point, but she just didn’t have it in her. Between the wine and the mind-boggling conversation, she was a little off kilter.
Sam paid the bill, left a generous tip for the waiter and helped Jo into her coat. His vehicle was parked only a few feet from the restaurant’s entrance, and within minutes, he had her safely in the passenger seat and buckled up.
Jo gave him her address, and he quickly entered it into his GPS before pulling away from the curb. Sinking onto the comfortable leather seats, Jo was quiet. It was raining lightly and the swish of the wipers made her slightly dizzy. Finally after a few minutes she laid her head back and closed her eyes.
“Sam?” she whispered.
“Why did you tell me all this tonight, on our first date? There was always the possibility that I would just walk out.”
“I’m not exactly sure how to answer that question, Jo, or even if I can. There’s just something about you that calls to me. I felt it the moment I looked at you in that café,” he told her, reaching over and gently taking her hand in his. “Something just sort of clicked, and I knew you were meant to be mine. I can’t explain it any better than that.”
Jo squeezed his hand and kept silent. She liked this man, Sam Barringer. She wasn’t sure she agreed with his philosophy, but his motives were flattering. Physically, he was eye candy. He was also incredible focused and determined. Jo wondered if she was up to the challenge he presented.
“When are you going to tell me about your business?” Jo asked quietly.
“We’ll talk about it on Saturday.”
“What’s Saturday?” Jo asked baffled.
“Our second date,” Sam replied.
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from A Sweet and Sassy Match. The boxed set is available on Blushing Books, Amazon and Barnes & Nobel at a 50% savings off the cost of the individual books.
Thanks for stopping by,
Sue Lyndon is a multi-published author of erotic BDSM romance and spanking romances. She enjoys a good book in any genre, loves Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica, and runs on coffee and chocolate.
Maid to Submit is a short story of approximately 8,000 words.
Ally's all dressed up and eager to spend Halloween night with her spanko boyfriend, Mark, but on her way out the door her roommate regretfully informs her that she saw Mark having lunch with another woman. Ally's heartbroken, but she's also angry...angry enough to hurl toilet paper through all the trees in front of Mark's house, among other naughty things. She doesn't plan on being caught red-handed, but she soon finds herself being tossed over Mark's shoulder and carried into his house.
Mark insists they talk about whatever has Ally so upset, and if he has to hold her captive--or spank her--until she settles down enough to listen, so be it. He informs a stunned Ally that the busty blonde he had lunch with was...his mother! Now he's got his hands full with an apologetic French maid who is very much in need of correction. He's understanding that Ally has some trust issues because of her past, but he certainly won't tolerate such naughty, irresponsible behavior from the woman he loves. He informs her that she's to endure a thorough inspection followed by a hard spanking on her bare bottom, and that's just the beginning of her punishment.
Will Mark get his errant maid to submit to an ordeal that is sure to leave her blushing?
Note: This story contains a naughty French maid who looks good in handcuffs, a no-nonsense firefighter with a twitchy palm, bare bottom spankings galore, and other erotic scenes sure to make your e-reader sizzle. Please don't buy this book if such material offends you.
She surveyed his illuminated lawn and hurled the tote bag beside a large tree on the edge of the clearing. With a sense of determination, she retrieved the box of plastic forks. Starting in the center of his yard, she began sticking forks in the grass, making a wide row of fifty before starting a new row. By the time she finished, she was breathless from constantly bending over, but all five hundred of the forks were sticking straight out of his lawn. God bless Jen and her love of buying everything, including plastic utensils, in bulk.
“How do you like that, Mark?” she muttered as she jogged back to the tote bag. “Fork you and your busty blonde friend.” She beamed inwardly with satisfaction. She almost wished she could stay hidden in the woods overnight, just to watch him bend over and pull out every single plastic fork the next day.
The toilet papering job was a work of art. Ally’s older sister, Leanne, had taught her how to gingerly grasp the end of a toilet paper roll and hurl it high over tree branches when they were in high school. Though years had passed since their last naughty escapade, she still had an arm for throwing. She used every last square of toilet paper, winding it through each tree in his front yard until the job was complete. Standing back, she surveyed the scene with pride, knowing Leanne would approve.
Grasping the bottle of ketchup, Ally headed for the concrete walkway that led from his driveway to his front door. Using long, elegant cursive strokes, she painted, “Cheater cheater pumpkin eater,” across the entire length of the walkway.
Just as she stood up to inspect her handiwork, someone grabbed her from behind and placed a hand firmly over her mouth. She dropped the bottle of ketchup and screamed.
I've linked the cover to buy on
This book is available on Amazon UK as well.
*Read for free with Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited*
Other Titles Available on Kindle Unlimited:
Mine by Christmas
Marry Me in Montana
BTW, I read Marry Me in Montana over the weekend. It's a sweet, super sexy short story!
In honor of our anniversary, I'm re-posting something I used for a blog tour last summer, with a few changes.
It was a dark and stormy night...no seriously, it was. We got married on November 1, 1975 at an eight o'clock candlelight service. It was snow/raining and cold, although the church was beautiful, sigh.
My dress cost a whopping $55.00, the veil was $27.00 and I borrowed the shoes, giant crystal platform shoes so I wouldn't look too ridiculous standing next to Bill, who had to wear his 'dress boots'. Is there even such a thing? The flowers Keriann and I got after hours on Friday night, dumpster diving at all the local florists, her idea by the way. Keriann played her guitar and sang for the service, which was one of the nicer touches.
The Bridesmaids were my nieces, wearing used dresses remade from my other sisters wedding and they were butt ugly. I would worry about saying that, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't read my blog.
Bill's suit cost more than my dress, $110.00 from Anderson Little and when he and his groomsmen went to pick it up the morning of the wedding, they stopped for a little bar hopping. For some strange reason, Bill told them that I would cook a spaghetti dinner for them all if they just came to my house. NOT! I was busy playing beauty parlor and it didn't take me long to toss their drunken asses out with stern orders to sober up. By the end of the argument, Bill and I weren't even speaking.
I wasn't sure if he would show up at the church or not, but I trucked my pretty little ass there, just in case. We had previously decided that instead of my walking up the aisle to him, we would walk up together and boy was I glad to see him waiting there for me when I came upstairs from the Brides Room.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" I asked, not bothering to conceal my attitude.
"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't" he shot back, sticking out his arm for me to hold, and away we went.
I'm not sure I know of another bride and groom who weren't speaking when they got to the church, but we managed to say 'I do", and he really did kiss me, lol.
The reception was at the fire barn and we were supposed to go away for a night, but by the time it was over and we went home we were both so tired he carried me over the threshold, we ordered subs and watched a monster movie on TV.
Last night as we were snuggled on the chaise watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Bill leaned over and kissed me.
"I'm glad we've had all these years together," he said nuzzling my ear.
I don't know what it is with me and weddings. All of my books either have them, or plan them. Seriously, it's not like mine was so great and in fact if I hadn't been so in love with the groom, I probably would have skipped the whole thing.
I guess that's why I put so much thought into my fictional weddings. I want my girls to have beautiful weddings to go with their love stories.
We went all out when our daughters were married. My youngest had eighteen attendants! Our oldest wore a dress that made me cry the first time I saw it, twenty foot train, cut out hearts trimmed with seed pearls, well you get the picture. Thank God fictional weddings are so affordable, lol.
Hi, I'm Stevie MacFarlane and I write sweet erotic romance and D/D, occasionally with a touch of kink.