Saturday, 27 June 2015

Y is for Yards

Sheep yards, to be precise. Which, at first glance, has nothing to do with spankings. But read on - James swats Rachel at the sheep yards in my new release Rachel's Journey:

Welcome to my blog for the second-to-last post in the #SpankA2Z June Challenge combined with Saturday Spankings!










In this snippet, Rachel and James are both working in the yards, drafting the lambs from the ewes, for weaning. Too busy ogling James muscular body framed by his singlet to concentrate, Rachel jams her wrist in the chute:


James leapt over the railings in the yards and was by her side in an instant, picking up her wrist and examining it gently. “It needs ice,” he told her. “It’s starting to swell. Go home and put some ice on it, I’ll be up for smoko soon.”
         
“Nah I’ll be okay, it’s not too bad.”
         
“You’re a terrible liar, Rachel. Go home and get some ice.”
         
“I said I’m fine,” Rachel snarled at him through gritted teeth, wrestling out of his grasp and doing her best to get back to work pushing the sheep up through the chutes. It was agony, but Rachel was stubborn, and she ignored James’ glare as she bent back to work.
         
Smack! James slapped her butt hard, and she jumped. “Go home and tend to your wrist before I make your butt hurt as much as your wrist does,” he ordered sternly.



















The other participants of the #SpankA2Z can be found here and the participants of Saturday Spankings are below:

Friday, 26 June 2015

X is for X-Rated!

Welcome Ashe Barker to my blog for X of the #SpankA2Z June Challenge! 

X is for X-Rated - Ashe's sizzling hot new erotic release Shared by the Highlanders!

Welcome Ashe! Please tell us a little about yourself:


Displaying Ashe Barker.jpgI’ve been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. I still love reading, the hotter the better. But now I have a good excuse for my guilty pleasure – research.
I tend to draw on my own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to my plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.
When not writing – which is not very often these days - my time is divided between my role as resident taxi driver for my teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, rabbits, tortoises.  And a very grumpy cockatiel. 
I have twenty four (at the last count) titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and I have several more in the pipeline. All my books feature BDSM. I write explicit stories, always hot, but they offer far more than just sizzling sex. I like to read about complex characters, and compelling plots, so that’s what I write too. Strong, demanding Doms are a given, often paired with new submissives who have a lot to learn.
I have a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keep thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from me.

Ashe can be found here:



Displaying sharedbythehighlanders.jpg
Blurb:
After she becomes lost in a thick mist while hiking near the borders of Scotland, Charlene Kelly is shocked to encounter two men on horseback. To her horror, the pair—both of whom are dressed in Scottish tartans—accost her and won’t let her go. Though the men speak with accents so strong they seem to come from another era, Charlene is able to gather that they believe she is a thieving boy. Unsure what else to do, Charlene plays along.
When Will Sinclair and Robbie MacBride discover that their captive is in fact a woman—and quite a beautiful one at that—there is only one thing to be done. She must be punished for her deception, and punished thoroughly. A switch applied to her bare bottom does the job well, and soon enough the two men are comforting Charlene as she nurses her bright red, sore backside.
Upon learning that the highlanders are hand-carrying an important message from Elizabeth of England to the court of Mary, Queen of Scots, it finally dawns on Charlene that she is no longer in her own time. Though she is desperate to find a way home, Will and Robbie are both unlike any man she has ever met, and their unabashed dominance awakens in her a powerful need to submit. Soon enough, she finds herself blushing with shame and quivering with desire as she is taken long and hard by two rugged highlanders at once. But can these hardened warriors keep her safe from the perils of a world far more dangerous than the one she left behind?

Publisher’s Note: Shared by the Highlanders is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes including threesomes, anal play, elements of BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

"You'll do as you're told, lass. Which brings us to the next matter we need to address."  Robbie glances around, his gaze coming to rest on a small stone building about hundred yards from us. Beside it stands a sturdy oak tree, already tall enough to be spreading its branches over the solid looking roof. He turns to Will. "That should do fine, do you think? That bough sticking out to the side?"
Will nods. "Good choice. Best sling a blanket over it though. We don't want her getting all scratched, after all. Striping her arse is punishment enough I reckon."
"What? What are you talking about?" I so do not like the sound of this. Any discussion of my arse and punishment surely heralds disaster.
As Will peers into his saddlebag, presumably in search of the blanket he mentioned, Robbie continues the explanation.
"Well, lass, there's the matter of honesty. And truth, you understand. We set high store by it, and we will have it from you. Always. And from your argumentative tone I daresay your obedience is soon to become an issue too. It's time for you to learn what the consequences will be when you lie to us, or if you fail to obey an instruction. With luck, and if you prove to be a fast learner, it may not be necessary to administer another punishment spanking for some time. But right now, we have no real alternative."
"Spanking! No way. You are not spanking me."
Robbie grins, his expression unrepentant. And determined. "We are, lass. Right here and now. See yonder oak beside the stock shelter there? You'll be bent over the branch that stretches out to the side, your wrists and ankles tied together to make sure you don't shift from where we place you. You'll be naked of course, your arse tilted up for easy reach. Then you'll take six strokes of the switch. From each of us."
"No! No, you can't do that. That would be... it would be - assault."
"Aye, you could call it that I daresay, since you'll not be acquiescent by the sound of things. Don't look so stricken lass, it'll soon be done with and we can all be on our way."
"You promised I wouldn't be hurt. Last night, you said that."
"I think what we actually promised was that we would do you no harm. And we won't. A little firm discipline though, now that's another matter entirely. I've yet to meet the woman whose disposition was not the better for a well administered paddling. And most are truly thankful for it too, in the fullness of time of course."

BUY SHARED BY THE HIGHLANDERS HERE:


Check out the other #SpankA2Z participants below:


Thursday, 25 June 2015

W is for WOLVES!

I'm so pleased to welcome Adaline Raine to my blog today for the #SpankA2Z June Challenge!  She's sharing a snippet from her hot new shifter release Rules of the Pack.



Hi Kelly! I'm so happy to be over during your A to Z blog hop. Since W is for wolves, I'm talking about the sexy ones in my new shifter release, Rules of the Pack!

In the snippet below Alisha has gone over to Mason's house, the Alpha, where the pack lives after beginning to apologize to the Beta, Phil. They are sitting around the dining room table, eating pizza, and drinking beer. It reminds her of something she has longed for.

Enjoy!

Phil leaned over and offered her a bottle of beer. “Do you want one?”

She nodded, accepted it, and took a swig. Her eyes caught Dani’s and she saw how happy she was, her eyes shining as she smiled at Mason. She did want this. They both did. The feeling that she was with family trumped everything. “Thank you.”

Portia had stopped giggling at some point, and Alisha saw her staring at Cal. He cocked an eyebrow as he caught her, and she quickly turned towards Alisha. “You, me, and Dani need to have a girls’ night. Like sappy movies and wine. Lots of wine!”

Dani clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh! This needs to happen like as soon as possible. There isn’t a threat right now. Can’t we do something fun?”

Mason grumbled as his mate tugged on his arm. “You’re not going to stop until I allow it, are you?” Dani gave him an innocent grin then nuzzled playfully up his arm. “Dani—”

Please? We’ll go to my house. Everything has been made safe and secure there. We won’t go anywhere. It will just be the three of us!” Dani upped the sweetness in her voice. “Please, Mason?”

Phil snorted. “I’ll supervise. No one will get in,” he dropped his tone lower, “or out.”

As if connected mentally, Portia and Alisha put on their biggest, cheesy grins and blinked their eyes up at Mason. “Ugh. Fine.” Mason reached over to pat each of their heads. “But Phil stays all night. And no funny business.”

***
Displaying rulesofthepack (1).jpg
Blurb:
Alisha Knight is a down-to-earth woman who just so happens to have her sights set on the beta of a large werewolf pack. But despite the way her body reacts to his powerful presence, bitter experience has shown her that a wolf pack is no place for a human girl. 

As his alpha’s trusted second-in-command, Phil McKenna takes his responsibilities seriously, even when that means taking disobedient females over his knee for an attitude adjustment. Though he is smitten with Alisha, the feisty little human friend of his alpha’s mate, humans and wolves don’t usually mix well and her presence could easily put both her and the pack in danger. 

Yet try as he might, Phil can’t keep his hands off Alisha. His fearsome urge to mark her, claim her, and dominate her completely is only increased when her defiant attitude earns her a hard, bare-bottom spanking. But when the pack is attacked by a cunning, vicious enemy and Alisha’s life is put in grave peril, Phil must decide if he is ready to cast aside caution and take her as his mate. 

Publisher’s Note: Rules of the Pack is the sequel to Marked by the Alpha. It is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.



Check out Marked by the Alpha if you want more sexy pack action!

Displaying mbta_large.jpg
Blurb:
Dani had always been a lone wolf and she had no desire to join a pack, but that didn’t matter to a true alpha wolf like Mason Daniels. When he finds out that human hunters have been threatening Dani, he puts his mark on her.

Unfortunately, the hunters are foolish enough to disregard his mark, and Dani is captured. After Mason and his pack rescue her from certain death, Dani is given no choice about joining Mason’s pack for her own protection. She soon learns that Mason is fully prepared to spank her bare bottom as often as is necessary to teach her to respect and obey him.

With more hunters closing in and the pack under threat, Mason begins to realize that he must claim Dani as his mate for life—whether she likes it or not—before his need for her drives him mad. At the same time, she is forced to learn her role in the pack and come to terms with her instinctual need to submit to Mason as her alpha and her mate.

Publisher’s Note: Marked by the Alpha is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, anal play, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Also note that a sequel to this book, Rules of the Pack, is now available.


Check out the other #SpankA2Z participants below:

Wednesday, 24 June 2015

V is for VENGEANCE



The #SpankA2Z June Challenge is nearing an end :( 

I thought I'd share something different today - a story I wrote years ago for a short story contest (it came 3rd) that has absolutely nothing to do with spanking, but I'm told it's quite a fun read.


                “Aaargh my hair!  My hair!” the shriek could be heard all over the neighbourhood.
                 I suppressed a chuckle.  This was turning out even better than I had dared to hope it would!  Unlike everyone else in the cul-de-sac, I didn’t have to guess as to what could be upsetting Marilyn; I knew.  I had caused it.
                 “No!  My hair!” the scream came again, shriller this time. 
                The timing could not have been more perfect: 5.30pm, just on the busiest time of the evening here, when the men were coming home from work, when the wives were out in their gardens gathering in the washing and calling the children for dinner; when the women in the kitchens had their windows open and the sounds of the neighbourhood would come wafting in.   It looked like karma was on my side. 
                Looking up the street, I could see the neighbourhood women gathering on Marilyn’s front lawn, surrounding her, their faces full of mock concern, like a scene out of Desperate Housewives.  In reality, they were looking for gossip; they didn’t care two hoots about what was actually happening to Marilyn’s precious tresses.  Marilyn was not the most popular woman in the neighbourhood, and the other women, once they found out what was happening to her, would be as chuffed as I was. 
                I can’t help myself – I walk the several houses up the street and join the growing crowd on Marilyn’s lawn, and watch with glee while she runs her fingers through her hair, pulling out fistfuls of broken, burnt hair.  Some of it is falling out at the roots leaving bald patches, other strands are breaking off, the ends frizzled and fried.  In any case, her hair-do is ruined.  Marilyn is proud of her hair, spending hundreds of dollars every month at the hair salon, buying expensive shampoos and conditioners, using deep treatments every week.  This effort does pay off – before I got my vengeance by way of her shampoo bottle yesterday, her hair was beautiful.  The long, flowing blonde locks were wavy and thick, cascading abundantly down her back, shining in the sun.  Most of the women who lived in this exclusive cul-de-sac were jealous of her hair; I wasn’t the only envious one.  That’s why I’m sure they were all secretly delighted watching the scene playing out before them now.
***
                It started nearly a fortnight ago now, all over a gorgeous pink bra that I found in my laundry hamper that I washed and put in the pile of clean clothes belonging to my teenage daughter. 
                “What’s this bra doing here mum?” she asked me that afternoon.  “You know it’s not my size.”  Actually, I didn’t.  All I knew was that it didn’t belong to me.  After nursing four kids, there was no way I could fit into a bra like that, and even if I could, pink is not my colour. 
                “Whose is it then?”  I asked.  “Only two people in this house wear bras, and it certainly isn’t mine.”
                “Well mum, I assume it belongs to the woman dad’s been secretly meeting for the past month.  He must have accidentally brought it home with him.”
                My jaw dropped.  My body froze.  “Woman?  Secret meetings?” I gasped.  What did this mean?  To my mind, there was only one thing it could mean, and I meant to stop it.  Once I’d found out who the “other woman” was, of course.
                So I went door-to-door around the neighbourhood with the bra, claiming the dog had brought it home the other day and I had just now got around to washing it for them.  If you knew my dog you’d know this story didn’t sound too far-fetched – my dog brings presents home on a regular basis, although usually of a more impersonal nature.  Shoes, outdoor toys….that sort of thing.  Never before has he brought home ladies lingerie, although it is possible that he is expanding his tastes, to please the males that live in this household.
                The bra was Marilyn’s.  I should have known that, I suppose.  Not only did she have the most coveted hair in the street, she also had the best body.  That lacy pink bra would have looked fabulous on her.  Marilyn didn’t claim the bra though, her husband did.  So she didn’t know that I knew.  If she had, things probably would have worked out differently.  She would have been on her guard, and she never would have used that dodgy shampoo.  And all the neighbourhood women wouldn’t be gathered on her front lawn now, pretending to be concerned, but secretly thrilled with their afternoon’s entertainment. 
                Secret meetings…. other woman…. Marilyn’s bra… my mind working overtime, I jumped to the most obvious conclusion and started plotting my revenge.  Oh how it would be sweet!
                The hardest part was not confronting my husband with what I believed I had found out.  I seethed inside, but managed to hide it from him pretty well.  No one suspected that I knew, they believed their secret was safe, and continued their secret rendezvous in my husband’s lunch hour every few days.
                 I had a real hard time coming up with ways of getting back at my husband; I spat in his coffee and peed in his shoes on a regular basis, but that was about it.  Oh I knew the old trick about putting fish behind the curtains, but how do you do that when you are the housewife?  Plus, I didn’t want him to know that I knew… because then he would tell Marilyn… and my chance at vengeance would be ruined.  I had the perfect plan, I just had to wait for the right time to carry it out.
                My opportunity came sooner than I expected – the very next day Marilyn went out and left her bathroom window ajar.  Feeling as dodgy as all get-out, like all my morals had gone out the window, I nearly chickened out, then reminded myself I was doing this for a good cause.  Well maybe not a good cause… but she certainly deserved it.  And I knew I’d never get caught. 
                Sneaking up to the bathroom window I pulled it open far enough to reach in and grab her shampoo bottle off the shelf in the shower.  Good, it was nearly full.  She wouldn’t suspect a thing!  Racing home with it, I emptied most of the shampoo into a bowl and topped the bottle up with hair remover.  Returning just a little bit more of the shampoo to the bottle, I shook it like crazy to mix the liquid, and then tested it.  The consistency was almost perfect, and the smell wasn’t too far off normal.  In the shower, she’d never notice it.  Who inspects their shampoo before putting it on their head?  Adding just a wee bit more shampoo to the neck of the bottle so it would smell right when she opened the lid, I screwed the lid back on, and quickly snuck back to Marilyn’s house and reached in the window and put the bottle back on the shelf in the shower where it belonged.  No one saw me, and if they had, they would have pretended they didn’t.  As I’ve already said, Marilyn isn’t the most popular woman in the neighbourhood.  Don’t ask my why, I don’t actually know.  Maybe she just rubs people up the wrong way.  Or maybe she’s sleeping with all our husbands.
***
                The waiting was the hardest.  I couldn’t wait to see if my revenge plot had worked.  I was so excited about it that I even stopped peeing in my husband’s shoes, although I still remembered to spit in his coffee.  But, with karma so obviously on my side, I didn’t have long to wait.  The very next afternoon, Marilyn came running out of her house shrieking about her precious hair, the neighbourhood woman gathering to watch.  And you know the rest. 
***
                What you don’t know is that I made a huge mistake.  I ruined the hair of an innocent woman, through jealousy and jumping to the wrong (but most obvious) conclusion.  Never mind my husband’s peed-in shoes or his spat-in coffee, he still doesn’t know about either of those, so they don’t count.  (Although how he didn’t notice the awful stink wafting out of his shoes is beyond me!  Does he really think his feet smell that bad?)
                It turns out that my husband had planned a cruise for my upcoming birthday, but was embarrassed by his lack of dancing skills.  Knowing that I was an accomplished dancer (or used to be, many years ago, before having kids) he had been sneaking to Marilyn’s during his lunch hour as often as he could, so she could give him dancing lessons.  She had been a semi-professional ballet dancer back in the day, before she fell and broke her ankle, which explained why she still limped a bit on cold, wet days.  Missing ballet, but unable to do it, she had taken up ballroom dancing and was amazingly good at it.  And out of the kindness of her heart, she was teaching my husband so he would be able to dance comfortably during the surprise cruise he had planned for me. 
                And my dog actually had dragged the bra home; my son had found it outside and put it in the laundry hamper, assuming it belonged to his sister.  So when I carted the bra all over the street trying to find its rightful owner, I hadn’t been lying after all. 
                Unsurprisingly, this knowledge did not make me feel any better.  I had done something terrible, and knowing that I had unwittingly been honest to my neighbours when I had meant to lie to them did nothing to ease my guilty conscience.  I knew what I must do, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. 
                Marilyn has never suspected anything, she thinks her shampoo was dodgy and has since changed brands.
                 I’m really nice to Marilyn now, going out of my way to be a good friend, a good neighbour, and gaining a good friend in return.  Now that I actually know Marilyn, I don’t know why she is unpopular, I really have absolutely no idea.  I suspect that maybe it is just jealousy.  Maybe that’s just how women get when they are bored. 
                When I hear any nasty gossip about her, I go out of my way to put a stop to it.  I make time for her, I chat to her when I see her in the street.  But that’s about all I do.  She doesn’t know it was me who contaminated her shampoo, and she never will.  I don’t have the guts to ‘fess up to what I did; besides what would be gained by telling her?  I say this to myself every day, to try and justify my cowardice, but it doesn’t work.  The guilt remains.  I will always feel guilty for what I did to Marilyn’s hair, and it is with great relief that I watch it growing back longer, thicker and more beautiful than ever.  Her new brand of shampoo is really working, I must find out what she uses. 
                I have learnt one really important lesson though – never jump to conclusions.

Check out the other #SpankA2Z participants below:

Tuesday, 23 June 2015

U is for UNDERWEAR!!!

Underwear is so important in a spanking scene. Do they get left on or taken off? Up or down? Are they sexy, sheer, lacey knickers, a matching lingerie set or manky old granny-undies that were a last resort because Mt. Washmore is in the laundry? Whatever the underwear, they have a place in spanking fiction.



Click here to find the #SpankA2Z June Challenge blog

Here's a snippet from my new release Rachel's Journey:

After one final hefty spank, he stopped and sat her up in front of him. “Of course I care. You know I care. But we have to leave it to the Police. If he had an alibi, then he had an alibi and there’s nothing we can do.” James smiled at her, trying to comfort her.
                
Rachel looked devastated. “But it’s not fair! He’s going to get off scot-free!” She stood up then, hauling her trackies back up into position and rubbing her sore butt.  “What are you smiling at?” Rachel asked James, glaring at him for good measure.
                
“Wondering where on earth you got those exotic undies from?”
                
“You shouldn’t be looking at my undies!” she exclaimed in mock-horror, blushing.
               
“I was spanking your backside – it was a bit hard not to!”
                
“You shouldn’t have spanked me then, should you?” she retorted, still blushing.
                
“You should have behaved then, shouldn’t you?” James responded, his throaty chuckle turning into full-on laughter. “And you got off lightly, anyway! You punched me, insulted me, swore at me … need I go on?”

In case you're interested, the underwear in question were green boy-shorts, stretched tight :)












Blurb:  Rachel was such a loser. Growing up with Tourette's Syndrome has taught her that. Who could possibly want someone who contorted their faces in bizarre twitches or snorted at random? Not even Mike, the man who had promised he loved her, had been able to put up with it. She broke up with him when she caught him cheating on her during their great overseas experience, promptly flying back home to hide and lick her wounds.
James was the manager for the 850 acre farm she and her brother Simon had inherited.  She liked James. He'd always treated her nicely, like an honorary little sister, and she'd had a crush on him forever. Not that she could ever tell him. She wasn't going to set herself up for rejection ever again.
But when it seems that someone is out to harm her, can she count on James to come to her rescue?
Set in rural New Zealand, this epic romance will thrill you and keep you captivated, enchant you with charming detail and inspire you, as learning to overcome adversity ultimately is Rachel's Journey.

Find the other participants of the #SpankA2Z below:


Saturday, 20 June 2015

T is for Tourette's Syndrome

Yes, you read it right ... Tourette's Syndrome. What can possibly be interesting about Tourette's Syndrome I hear you ask? Well the truth is, probably nothing. But seeing as how this is the June A-Z of Spanking Challenge and I couldn't think of anything else that started with T, and the heroine in my recent release, Rachel's Journey, has Tourette's Syndrome, I thought it was as good a subject as any.




I posted this article on Google+ ages ago, so if you've already read it on there, nothing has changed - this is the same article. You'll probably want to hop along to someone else's blog, using the link below. Otherwise, read on, for some insight into daily life with this genetic neurological disorder.

Disclaimer: Tourette's affects everyone differently. The experience I share below is my own, and is probably not the same for anyone else who has Tourette's.


Like Rachel, the girl in my recently-released book Rachel's Journey I have Tourette's Syndrome. I've had it all my life.

Tourette's affects everyone differently, but for me, and for Rachel, it mostly manifests itself in facial tics, sniffing and nail biting. I involuntarily open my mouth wide and twist my neck violently which cracks my neck and jaw, while simultaneously raising my eyebrows and screwing up my face. My eyes are shut when I tic so even if I stand in front of a mirror I have no idea what it looks like, but I imagine it looks pretty bizarre.

To those who know me, this is normal. Those who see me daily don't even notice it. To strangers, or those who don't know me so well, I guess I'm a freak. I think my tics define me to others, in a way. I know it's often the first thing people who don't know me well think of, when they think of me.

For me, tics are just something I live with. They're annoying, but they're not the worst part of this disorder. The worst part by far is the co-morbidities that go with it - the way my brain processes things. I don't think like normal people do; but what is normal? To me, this is normal. Inside my head I'm often fighting urges to say inappropriate things at VERY inappropriate times. The media likes to sensationalize the swearing part of Tourette's and for a few, that is a challenge - trying to abstain from involuntary, random bouts of swearing. I don't have that problem. Don't get me wrong - on occasion I'll swear as much as the next person. But it's not Tourette's causing it. My urges are ruder - they're usually full insults - and fortunately I am able to control them, otherwise I'd be offending people left, right and centre, all day long, every single day.

My finger nails never grow. Well they do, but I bite them back as soon as they do. Sometimes, if I'm particularly stressed, I'll be biting them back before they grow - biting my nails to the quick and beyond, ripping and tearing at them with my teeth until they bleed.

My neck, shoulders and jaw constantly ache from my tics - from being so violently twisted and cracked. Physiotherapy or other treatment is pointless - it's less than a day after treatment that I've hurt myself again.

It's not the Tourette's Syndrome that people can see that affects my life the most, it's the effects of Tourette's that they can't see.

Like me, Rachel lives like this every day. And it's her inner journey, the struggles nobody sees, which is what this story is about.  Well, partly. There's a few good spankings in there too :)




                   Buy on Amazon



                Buy on Blushing Books












You can check out the other participants in the June Challenge here:








Friday, 19 June 2015

S is for ... Spanking in the Stables!

Welcome to my blog!  
I'm participating in the June Challenge Spanking A - Z 


Being spanked in the stables has been a long-held fantasy of mine. Imagine it ... that unbeatable scent of horses, hay and hard feed; being bent over a hay bale or a saddle rack by a sexy, muscular cowboy, butt bared, for a spanking with a riding crop, stirrup leather, or piece of harness ... the opportunities are endless!

I see no reason to leave this unpinned... What a beautiful horse. Mmmm  July 8 2014 Happy Tattoo Tuesday! Alicia White shared this and I just had to share it again because it makes me happy. Yes, he does have a tattoo. Look closely and enjoy a few warm, Cowboy kisses. How is your Tuesday going?As cute as all the animals are, as pretty as all the scenery is, you can't beat cowboys

Just part of my collection of spunky cowboys who can spank me in the stable any time!

My sweet equestrian spanking romance Bracken Ridge features plenty of hot spanking action in the stables! Read on for one of my favourite scenes:

Jeremy narrowed his eyes at her then kicked the tack room door shut with a bang. Grabbing a stirrup leather off the wall, he pushed her forward over an empty saddle horse and held her down with one hand in the small of her back. Stunned, Anna lay there for a minute without resisting, and then she realised what was going on. She tried to stand up, but Jeremy held her down.
           
“Stay still,” he ordered her sternly. Then he spanked her hard with the stirrup leather.
            
Anna wriggled and kicked and Jeremy stopped spanking her. “Either you stay in position and take this spanking or you can take your jeans off and we start again. What’s it going to be?”

            
“I’ll stay still.”






 If you enjoyed the excerpt you can buy it here!













Don't forget to check out the other participants in this challenge below:






Thursday, 18 June 2015

R is for RURAL ROMANCE!


Welcome to my blog! I'm doing the #SpankA2Z June Challenge and today I'm up to R. 
Did anyone notice I missed out Q? Honestly, what kind of word begins with Q?



Rural Romance is probably my favourite genre to read. I don't know how popular it is in other countries but here in NZ, Australian Rural Romance is well-loved. Here are a few of my favourites:(you can find more on my Pinterest board here)

Silver Clouds by Fleur McDonaldJillaroo - Rachael Treasure


These 3 rural women are mums themselves, so I find them inspiring - if they can do it, so can I!

And of course, there's my very own Rachel's Journey -a rural romance with a difference! Not only is it set in New Zealand, but it contains spankings! LOTS of spankings! And a wee bit of hotness too :) If you haven't read it yet, what are you waiting for? Pick up your copy below:





The other participants in this challenge can be found below: