Cold Nights, Hot Reads Blog Hop!

feb-hop-white-lettering  Welcome to the Cold Nights, Hot Reads Blog Hop! I’m thrilled to be able to participate in this event hosted by Red Hot Authors Cafe. They have some truly wonderful prizes offered, including:

•    1st Prize:  $125 Paypal Cash or Gift Card
•    2nd Prize: $50 Paypal Cash or Gift Card
•    3rd Prize:  $35 Paypal Cash or Gift Card
•    4th Prize   $20 Gift Certificate for Phaze Books

Hmmm, you say to yourself. I have a ton of books I really need to read, but not a lot of money to spend buying them. I could really use one of those gift cards. How do I go about winning one?

That, gentle reader, is a very good question. I like good questions, especially when I know the answer. All you have to do to win is comment. Not just on my blog, but on every blog in the rafflecoptor below. I’ll include the link at the bottom.

But wait, I cry, there’s more. If you leave a comment on my blog, you will also be entered to win my own special prize: a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card to help offset the cost of buying all the really good books you’re about to sample on this blog hop.

Are you ready to start sampling?

Of course you are. Considering the title of the blog hop, I figured something hot and sexy in the midst of very cold weather would be the perfect excerpt to offer. So, this is a scene from Have Paddle, Will Travel. Ettie and Vance are stranded in a small cabin in the middle of nowhere after having been dunked in an icy river. Their clothes are wet and hanging by the stove to drip dry. There is no bed. Instead, they are swaddled together for warmth between two old bearskin rugs.

* * * * *

Snuggling in, she hugged herself tight against him. Outside, the wind buffeted the cabin. Trees were creaking. So was the roof above their heads. Ettie didn’t like storms. Weather was a scary thing. Unstoppable. Violent. She’d once spent a summer visiting her grandparents in Tornado Alley. What was currently happening outside sounded just like what Ettie heard the night the tornado sirens chased them all the way down into her grandfather’s storm cellar. That had been the scariest night of her life. She shuddered. She hated storms.

“Are you all right?”

She jumped a little when Vance’s hand found her shoulder. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re shaking,” he pointed out.

“It’s cold.” She didn’t even have to lie, at least not about that.

“Yes, it is,” Vance agreed, his fingers lazily circling the ball of her shoulder. He paused to tug the rug a little further up and tucked it in around her chin. His fingers went back to playing with her shoulder. “Hey, here’s a bit of trivia for you. Do you know why they call that stream outside Potato Creek?”

Trying not to like the way his fingers kept playing upon her arm, as if they were lovers lying comfortably together, Ettie shook her head. “No.”

“It dates back to Prohibition. Whiskey peddlers used to live all up and down these roads. One, being an immigrant newly arrived to our fair shores, decided he was going to try his hand at introducing all his liquor-poor American neighbors to juice from the motherland. His preference being vodka, he had a truck of potatoes shipped in. Unfortunately for him, the roads weren’t any better back then than they are today and, whether due to bad weather conditions or profit-driven competitors, the truck overturned, filling the creek with potatoes. People were picking spuds out of the water for miles, and for years afterward, you’d find potato plants growing along the banks. True story.”

Her eyes narrowing, Ettie lifted her head off his shoulder. “You’re pulling my leg.”

He held up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute. “On my honor.”

“Potatoes don’t grow this high in the mountains. It’s too cold!”

“Potatoes like cool growing conditions.”

She threw out one arm, gesturing to the weather. “Not this cool, I guarantee it.”

“Well, but that just goes to show the difference between then and now. Spuds were much tougher back then. These days, they’ve got it too easy. Myself, I blame fast food and the rampant availability of internet porn.”

Ettie couldn’t help it. She laughed, snorted, covered her mouth and laughed even harder. “You are so full of shit.”

“Has anyone ever told you you have the mouth of a sailor?” he asked, but he was smiling when he said it and his fingers were still tracing those lazy circles around and around the crown of her bare shoulder.

“Once or twice,” she admitted, then joked, “Is that a spanking offense?”

“Only if you want it to be,” he countered, effectively stopping her laughter.

The atmosphere in that little cabin went from relaxed to tensely somber in the space of a breath.

“Don’t be silly.” She made herself laugh, but even to her it sounded forced. Too high. Strained, rather than natural. “Why would I want that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes people do funny things when they want or need to get spanked.”

“Who said I needed to get spanked?” She laughed again. She also squirmed, and afterward, she could have kicked herself for not making it look more like a shiver from the cold. She had to be careful. Regardless of their current circumstance, even though he was being particularly charming and vulnerable, and even somewhat likeable, none of this changed anything. He was still a horn dog and she still didn’t like him.

“I’m just making conversation. Nobody said you needed anything.”

“That’s because I don’t.” She cleared her throat. “Nobody needs that sort of thing. Why would they? It’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t think it’s ridiculous.” His fingers ceased their circling and began instead to trace light lines up and down from her shoulder to her elbow. “I don’t think for a woman to know she needs the occasional or even regular spanking is ridiculous at all.”

“That’s because you’re Have Paddle, Will Travel,” she muttered, struggling to pull her old, familiar shroud of disgruntlement in around her. For some reason, it didn’t fit anywhere near as comfortably as it used to. That’s what lying naked with a man could do to a girl. Despite the circumstances, it was hard to separate years of carefully maintained dislike from the physical closeness. And the smell. God, he smelled good. She just wanted to press her nose to his skin and inhale.

“I beg your pardon?” His fingers on her arm had stilled and he had craned his neck to see her better in the dim firelight. “What did you just call me?”

She lifted her chin out from his side. “Have Paddle, Will Travel. Everyone calls you that. You’re like the Fuller Brush Man only with cooler implements…or so they tell me. You didn’t know?”

“Is this ‘they’ as in friends and neighbors around the community, or is this ‘they’ as in the people quoted in your newspaper?”

“What’s the difference?”

He scoffed. “Well, one represents real people, and the other is made up entirely out of your imagination. Who do I have to thank for such an interesting moniker?”

Cheeks beginning to heat, she tucked her chin back up against him. “If forced to be honest…”

“Honesty is the best policy.” He sounded amused. That helped make the confession come out easier.

“It’s probably about fifty-fifty.”

His chest under her cheek bounced when he chuckled, then he drew in a deep breath. It sounded a lot like a sigh. “Ettie honey, now I’m saying it. You need spanking. Lots and lots of spanking. Bare bottom. Legs pinned.” His tone deepened, turning damn-near seductive. “Hands clasped behind your back to keep you from interfering until I’m done—either that or a really good kiss.”

And just like that, suddenly all Ettie could think about was how naked she was, and how naked he was, and how they were cuddled up together between two bearskin rugs…in a remote cabin…in the middle of nowhere…with a blizzard raging outside and a fire dying inside. Up until this moment, Ettie had been able to partition the uncomfortable particulars off in her mind. This was a desperate situation, after all. Everybody knew how desperate situations often led to people doing crazy things. Like crawling naked into bed with one’s nearest and dearest enemy just to keep warm through a bitterly cold night. Nothing seemed cold right now, though. Not any part of her pressed up against all the parts of him, including that one part that she’d tried so hard not to look at. He was warming up. The shrinkage was reversing. Vance wasn’t a eunuch anymore.

“Don’t say that,” she said, trying to pretend she couldn’t feel him—the thump of his heart beneath her hand, all that lean muscle that travelled down his side, and the sinewy stretch of his leg where it pressed against hers.

“Which part?” he asked. “The spanking, or the kissing?”

“You’re sick.”

“What could possibly be sick about spanking or kissing?”

Her nipples were as taut and tight as mountain peaks. He had to know it, too. They were poking right into his ribs. “Any part of either if you’re involved in it.”

Vance chuckled, a low throaty sound that travelled up her spine like the Devil’s own fingertips. “In that case, baby, I’m not just sick. I’m the most twisted son of a bitch you’ll ever love to hate.”

* * * * *


When a freak snow storm threatens to cut off the already remote community of Corbin’s Bend from the rest of the world, the residents scramble to get enough emergency supplies from neighboring towns before the mountain roads are closed. It’s sheer luck of the draw that force Ettie and Vance into the same car together. The only problem is, they can’t stand one another. She’s a submissive who hasn’t been spanked in four very long years (four years, seven months, thirteen days…not that she was counting). He’s the resident paddle and strap maker, a man known to answer the call of needy submissives everywhere. In his workshop at home, Vance has every implement he’d ever need to win a war like this. In a car in the middle of nowhere with the storm of the century bearing down upon them…who will win this particular battle was anybody’s guess.

Available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Blushing Books.

Now that you’ve read mine, don’t forget to comment and Click here to check out what the other very talented authors have offered on their blogs. And don’t forget to click on this link and enter for these prizes as well. :)


Posted by on February 26, 2015 in Uncategorized


What does a spanking romance author read?

I’m very active in my local bdsm community. I attend munches, meetings, and parties with a couple different groups. At one of them this last weekend what I do for a living came up and I was asked this question: “Do you read the same stuff you write?”

Of course I do. But it’s only a small part of what I read. I devour romance novels, especially in the paranormal vein–Gena Showalter and Kresley Cole being my two top favorites. I dabble in science fiction and fantasy novels, particularly the older authors–Marion Zimmer Bradly, Barbara Hambly and Anne McCaffrey (if you have not read ‘Nor Crystal Tears by Alan Dean Foster’, your life is much darker for it, I promise you). I read horror as well, every time Stephen King puts out something new. And yes, I do read books put out by fellow authors in the spanking/bdsm genre. I’m a spanko first. I always have been.

So, what am I reading now?


“I want to make you feel good. I want to make you feel incredible. Please, tell me how to do that.”

I was so caught off guard by his humble sincerity that I almost didn’t know how to respond. Every guy I’d ever been with had always assumed he knew exactly what he was doing—even when he obviously had no clue—and never would have asked me what he could do to please me. Even though a thousand answers sprang to my lips, I couldn’t find the courage to say any of them aloud. Suddenly shy once more, I dropped my eyes, feeling my cheeks blaze with heat as I did so.

“Come on, Sylvia, don’t play coy with me,” he prompted teasingly.

“I don’t know,” I offered with a shrug.

“Oh, I think you do. And you know something? I think I’m going to spank you until you tell me what it is.”

My head snapped up at this pronouncement. “No. You can’t,” I protested, my heart beating triple-time.

“I can’t? Why is that?”

“Be-because! It’s ridiculous, that’s why!”

“Is that so? Well, something tells me you don’t think it’s so ridiculous.” He reached forward and tweaked my traitorous, hardened nipple.

“Well,” I huffed, “I do.” Yet, even I wasn’t convinced by my feeble argument, and neither was Jake if the glint in his blue-green eyes was anything to go by.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Without any further warning, he reached over and took hold of my wrists, easily hauling me over his lap.

I realized right away that I could have gotten away, if I so desired. It would have been easy to sit up and scoot off his lap—he wasn’t holding me tightly. Yet, while kicked my legs in protest at this change of events, I didn’t get up, either. My heart was beating so hard and fast in my chest that I was sure he must feel it.

If he did, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he took his time flipping up my skirt and rubbing his hand lightly over my panties. That was enough to send my heart racing at a pace that left me breathless, but when he pulled down my panties I couldn’t hold back the moan that came oh-so-willingly to my lips. He didn’t say anything about that, either, but turned his attention to my bared butt in front of him. He rubbed his hands over my naked orbs slowly, as though savoring the feel of my skin, before he cupped my bottom, one cheek at a time, and massaged the cheeks in a way that shouldn’t have felt good, but did. Very, very good. “Have you ever been spanked before?”

Even though I knew it was a logical question, for some reason it made me giggle. Only if you counted the feeble swats my ex Kevin had landed over my panties before we made love, which I certainly didn’t. “No.”

“Well, in that case I’ll go easy on you.”

But I didn’t want him to go easy on me. I wanted to feel his hand hot on my backside until the imprint of his palm marked my ass. I wanted to feel it every time I sat down, rosy and delicious, the way I’d always imagined it would feel. With the knowledge that this might be my only opportunity to find out, I sassed off. “Sure, wouldn’t want you to break a nail or anything.”

I was immediately rewarded with a loud slap to my rear that made me gasp out loud. My bottom tingled in a wonderfully painful way and I had to duck my head to hide my smile. “I’m sorry, were you going to start soon?”

Whack! Came the punishing hand again, this time covering the other cheek. I didn’t have any more time for quick quips because he was relentless, his hand spanking up on side and down the other so fast that all I could do was concentrate on the heat building on my bottom. Before long, I was whimpering, but still he pressed on, even giving my thighs a few smacks.

* * * * *

Five years ago, Jake Hastings threatened to spank Sylvia Hawthorne for misbehavior at the local bookstore, and it changed her life forever. Intrigued—not to mention powerfully aroused—by such brazen dominance from a stranger, Sylvia was more than happy to give herself to Jake that night. Upon discovering later that their passionate encounter left her pregnant, she made the fateful choice to keep her situation a secret from Jake, deciding instead to raise the child on her own. But when her now-five-year-old son is diagnosed with a rare disease and needs a bone marrow transplant, Sylvia is left with no choice but to swallow her pride and face Jake again.

She is prepared for almost any reaction from Jake… at least any reaction other than for him to step back into her life, ready to love and care for not only their son but her as well. To her shock, Sylvia soon learns that, in Jake’s book, taking care of a woman also means taking her over his knee for a long, hard, bare-bottom spanking when he believes it necessary. Yet despite his firm discipline, Sylvia soon finds herself falling for Jake in a way she never gave herself the chance to before. But will the same mistrust that kept them apart for five years ultimately destroy their newfound romance, or can Sylvia overcome her fears and surrender her heart to Jake?

Sylvia’s Surrender by Dinah McLeod. If you want to read more, you can check out the sample chapter here.


Posted by on February 9, 2015 in Uncategorized


Welcome, Katherine Deane!

I don’t know what it is about cops and firemen, but Holy Hannah, put one in a spanking story and what do you get? Insta-book boyfriend! In Cassie and the Fire Captain, Eric is no exception. This is a story hot enough to burn your fingers every time you turn the page. So, please welcome fellow author and friend, Katherine Deane!

cassie and the fire captain KD cover

Thanks so much for having me today Maren. I thought of you specifically, when I chose today’s non-con excerpt. Seriously, non consensual spankings really float my boat. But they have to be done just right.

If he doesn’t have a reason for the spanking, then he seems like an ass. If he just turns her over his knee for no other reason than the fact that he is ticked off at an action, he comes across not only as a jerk, but also as a bully.

In the books I write, and the ones I like to read, I want the heroine to feel remorseful for her actions; deep down, even if she is not ready to admit it aloud yet, she knows she deserves this spanking. It doesn’t mean she’s not going to put up a bit of a fight, or holler, or struggle at first. But at some point during her howling and begging and thrashing and flailing of arms, it’s going to click- like a lightbulb. She’s going to realize that she deserves a hot bottom, and she will sag over his lap, finally accepting his hand and his punishment. Trusting that he will finish when he deems she has had enough.

For me, that’s the beauty of a non con spanking. It’s sexy as hell, and makes my own bottom flinch. And as long as there’s a good reason for it, I’m all for it. Bring on the non-con’s!


“Holy crap, Eric, are you okay?” She rushed forward to shoo the thin, black snake into the woods, away from him. When she turned around, she saw the wide eyes, glazed over look of shock on his face. Oh man, was he turning blue, or was that just funky dusk coloring? Well, he wasn’t breathing.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

“Hey, man, you gotta breathe – snap out of it!” She waved her hands in front of his face, but he continued to stare at the spot where the snake had been. What an idiotic idea! The poor guy had almost picked up the snake, just because she had wanted to play a stupid prank on him and put him in his place.

“I’m so sorry, Eric.”

She paced back and forth, frantically trying to figure out what to do. Would he pass out? God how was she going to lug his unconscious body back to the main road. The tears formed in the back of her eyes, and she rubbed them angrily away. Way to go, Cass. Let your pride run away again, and you kill a guy!

She strode purposefully back to the unmoving, unbreathing giant with the dilated eyes, who was starting to look quite woozy. Ok, this always worked in the movies, right? She lifted her hand, and smacked him lightly against the cheek. Nothing. Oh god, he was going to pass out. Time to pull her big girl panties up. She hauled back, and smacked him across the face, as hard as she could.

“Yeowch, mother eff’er, that hurts!” she shouted as the red hot pain scorched her palm.

He looked startled, and took in a quick breath, followed by short erratic, choppy ones, before looking at her. “Girl, you certainly pack a wallop,” he muttered, rubbing his red cheek.

“I’m so so sorry,” she stammered.

“Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” He grabbed her around the waist.

“What are you – oof!” She landed firmly over his lap when he sat down on the packs.



When twenty-four-year-old Cassie Stevens meets Eric Waters, her town’s hunky new fire captain, she assumes he is way out of her league. Cassie isn’t a beauty queen like her mother, and a mature, no-nonsense man like Eric would never be attracted to a fun-loving tomboy like her, especially considering her penchant for getting herself in trouble. So it comes as a shock when he stops by the diner where she works, steers her out of an altercation with some rude customers, and promptly asks her out on a date.

It doesn’t take Cassie long to realize that she has finally met the man of her dreams, and Eric seems to enjoy her sense of humor and playful ways. But after she pulls a foolish prank on him during their first date, he takes her over his knee for a spanking, and she quickly discovers how much a man’s firm hand can sting when applied to a naughty girl’s bare bottom.

Eric’s attention and affection make Cassie feel more loved than she has ever felt before, and despite her sore bottom, his discipline leaves her aroused and yearning to be his. But just as she’s about to give him her heart, it seems he’s no longer interested. Can Cassie put aside her fears and trust Eric, or will her doubts set off a chain of events which will tear their relationship apart?

Publisher’s Note: Cassie and the Fire Captain is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Available on Amazon


Posted by on February 5, 2015 in Uncategorized


Meeting Marshall – For those who missed it!

Meeting Marshall is now available for FREE on Amazon! If you missed it while it ran on my blog, now’s your chance to get your copy. Just click the picture, download and enjoy! :)


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Posted by on January 30, 2015 in Uncategorized


Owning O Part 5


And now, the final part of the first chapter of Owning O, one of the 5 books in the new Masters of the Castle boxed set – When the Gavel Falls

She wished she wasn’t here.

Switching hands, Tavy rubbed that one now as well, pushing her thumb up and down the old carpal tunnel surgery scars. She hated everything about this place, but that didn’t change anything. She couldn’t leave, though she knew she was free to do so at any time. What did she have to go home to, except the awful thing that drove her to this equally awful place time and time again?

Absent-mindedly, she rubbed the other scar. Sitting and rubbing, she watched the sun mark the unyielding march of time as it crawled from the top of the window to the sill, and then vanished below the distant tree line. If she didn’t start getting ready now, she was going to be late. Then and only then, could she bring herself to pick up the costume she had come to hate.

She donned her corset with the all the enthusiasm of a felon climbing into her prison-issued jumpsuit. Jet black, it pushed up her breasts, cinched in her waist and had a short bib of black lace both in front and back that barely covered either her sex or her bottom. It fit her very well, amplifying each of her curves to their best visual advantage, and yet Tavy found nothing to admire about the way she looked.

Twisting her long brown hair up in a practical ponytail to keep it out of the way of the things she’d undoubtedly be asked to do before the night was out, she slipped her feet into high stiletto heels. This was not her usual corset. It lacked the fastenings for garters and left her long legs bare. Trying to ignore her reflection, she looked in the mirror just long enough to put her make-up on—dark, smoky eye shadow, black mascara, crimson cock-sucker lipstick—before tying the velvet collar-like ribbon around her neck and pinning the auction number she’d been given to her bodice.

Ready fifteen minutes before she had to report to the ballroom where the auction was scheduled to take place, Tavy sat on the foot of her bed. She rubbed her scars while she waited. The ones on her hands first, then those on her wrists, and then her legs. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder, as she touched each one, how many more they’d have to put on her before she could stand to look at herself again.


She’s the most highly-coveted submissive the Castle has ever known. She never says no, never cries her safeword, and never plays with the same Dom twice. For years Alan has watched her, always looking but never allowed to touch until the night the Castle hosts its first ever charity auction. Seizing his chance, Alan bids, but defeating the other Doms in the audience is only the first and easiest step in his bid to own the infamous O. Freeing her from herself quickly proves to be much, much harder…Owning O.

Welcome to the Castle.

Owning O – Available now on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Blushing Books

To read the first part of each first chapter of all the stories in the When the Gavel Falls boxed set, please visit the other authors’ blogs below:

Abby Adams

Tabitha Black

Maggie Ryan

Darling Adams


Posted by on January 29, 2015 in Uncategorized


Owning O Part 4


Part 4 of Owning O, now available in Masters of the Castle new boxed set – When the Gavel Falls

He opened the box and withdrew the collar he’d had Kane make especially for the occasion—black leather and silver chains, with a pendant locket that, when opened, read simply: ‘Owned’. That was what he intended to do this weekend. He was going to own her, so completely and so devastatingly that when she returned to the Castle next month, she would do so ready to discard her hard limit. For Alan, and Alan alone.

That was the dream, anyway.

He pocketed her collar. The leashes, he knew, were already piled on the table where Parker would be handling the financial aspect of tonight’s transactions. Taking a deep breath, Alan strove to quiet the giddiness and regain a semblance of inner calm. He pulled himself out of the fantasy zone in which his mind kept wanting to wander—not yet, not until the auction was won and he had her kneeling at his feet—and then he left his third-floor apartment above the schoolgirl library and went down to join the other Castle guests below.

* * * * *

Tavy Sutters sat on the foot of the bed in the room she’d been assigned. Her corset lay spread out on the comforter beside her, but she didn’t look at it. The rest of her things were still in her duffel bag, sitting on the floor just inside the door. She hadn’t bothered to unpack and probably wouldn’t at all this trip. It was one of the perks of volunteering for the auction. All the submissives taking part in this week’s holiday activity had received their stay for free. For once, she didn’t feel like she was taking advantage of the resort by not paying for it the way everyone else did.

Not that she didn’t pay in other ways. Sweat, blood and salt-stinging tears were her currency, and of those her account was drained every single month. She just never paid with cash.

This time was different though. Her meals and room were free as usual, but in return for her participation in the charity event, Marshall had promised an extra perk—a second stay to be redeemed in whatever month she chose, as well as two days over the weekend once her allotted time as a ‘slave’ was done.

She rubbed the back of her hand, not yet sure whether or not she was going to stay for those extra days. She supposed that would depend entirely on the man who bought her, and whether the severity of his punishments were harsh enough to silence the gnawing guilt eating her up inside.

To Be Continued…

To read the first part of each first chapter of all the stories in the When the Gavel Falls boxed set, please visit the other authors’ blogs below:

Abby Adams

Tabitha Black

Maggie Ryan

Darling Adams


Posted by on January 28, 2015 in Uncategorized


Owning O Part 3


Owning O part 3 of the Masters of the Castle When the Gavel Falls boxed set.

Alan put down his hairbrush. He opened the top drawer of his dresser and took out a thin box: a perfect square, six inches by six inches, no less than two inches deep. He set it on top of the table, bracing his hands on either side while he took a deep breath to settle his firing nerves.

Somewhere in this Castle, the annual New Year’s Eve party—an event scheduled to last from Tuesday to Friday—was already underway. In the more sedate programs, puppies and kittens were being tucked into their kennels. Ponygirls were being brushed and bedded down in their stalls. People were already gathering on the back lawn to watch the fireworks scheduled for later that evening, a display so spectacularly renowned that Granger locals—temporarily forgetting the stigma attached to having an adult resort in their backyards—lined up in lawn chairs along the highway to catch tantalizing glimpses of the shimmering bursts of fire and light above the trees.

And somewhere, somewhere in the half-torturous and half-magical depths of this old stone fortress, Tavy was climbing out of her civilian clothes and into her costume. She was putting on an auction prize number and the black velvet ribbon that signaled she was a submissive; an article he couldn’t wait to take off her and replace with something more meaningful.

The Meet and Greet event had started ten minutes ago. Men were readying their wallets and picking out favorites amongst the auction participants milling among them. Tavy wouldn’t be there; Alan knew that from experience. She never mingled at Castle functions, not unless she was forced. But every Dom preparing to take part in tonight’s special proceedings would know she was attending. The name ‘O’ was on the register—lucky number seven—and that register had been posted on all three ballroom doors since noon. It was on the postcards that littered the dining tables, and would undoubtedly be in the pamphlet that would be handed out at the auction’s start.

There would be no shortage of bidders. This was going to cost him some serious money, and Alan knew that, but backing out now was not an option. If ever he was going to skirt her hard limit of never playing with the same man twice, tonight was his chance. The only one he’d probably ever have. Tonight, he was going home with Tavy and for the next four days, she was going to be his and his alone.

To Be Continued…

To read the first part of each first chapter of all the stories in the When the Gavel Falls boxed set, please visit the other authors’ blogs below:

Abby Adams

Tabitha Black

Maggie Ryan

Darling Adams


Posted by on January 27, 2015 in Uncategorized

Maren Smith

Writin' kinky since before it was cool


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This blog contains themes of an adult nature. It is intended for audiences 18 or older. This blog is NOT SAFE FOR WORK. If you are offended by nudity, explicit sexual material, or images of BDSM then this is not the blog for you. Have a great day!!


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