Work-In-Progress Wednesday

Work-In-Progress Wednesday! This page is a running log of my contributions to the WIP-IT-UP blog roll.

August 1, 2018

Ah, another month and there are bills to pay. To this end, I am once again progressing on Diamond Mountain Caper. My female Victorian detective is on a voyage from London to America to investigate the possible wrong-doing. She is in the company of a young man…

Excerpt:

As promised, a maid appeared in less than a minute. “Some champagne, please,” Teddy said, and the maid hastened away.

“Mac, tell me about tomorrow. Are you joining us on our travel west?”

“Uh, no, ma’am. I am Mr. Harpending’s agent here in New York. I assist with his travels when he passes through.”

“Is that often?” She slipped a hand inside his coat. His manly scent made her nipples hard. She trailed her fingers along his chest before retrieving the envelope of money from his inside pocket.

“Yes, rather routinely. There are several others in his employ who travel to the city as well.”

“Hmm.” Teddy settled into a stuffed chair with blue velvet upholstery. She rested her feet on an ottoman, but did not constrain the hem of her skirt as it fell away from her ankles. “My feet hurt. I don’t suppose you would be a dear and help me get my shoes off?”

Mac coughed into his fist and moved closer to her. He set on the edge of the ottoman and untied the laces of her shoes. He slipped them off her feet. She watched the bulge in his trousers grow. The thought of him being aroused by her, a woman nearly twice his age, made her wet. She knew it was wicked to seduce the young man. She had reservations, but not so strong as to stop her.

The maid returned with the chilled champagne in a silver bucket and two glasses. “Lock the door on your way out,” Teddy said to the maid. Then, as Mac opened the bottle and pour two glasses of the sparkling wine, she said, “Perhaps my feet would feel so much better if you could rub them for a bit.”

Teddy’s hem rose further, to expose her calf, when Mac lifted her foot and began caressing it. She sipped her wine, closed her eyes, and laid her head back against the chair. Holding her foot in one hand, he caressed her toes through the thin stocking. He pressed his thumb into the palm of her foot and massaged it.

“Ahh, yes. Do it just like that.”

After a few minutes, he changed to her other foot and repeated the procedure.

“Perhaps, if you were to remove my stockings, then your touch would feel even better,” Teddy mused.

She watched as he eased her hem up to her knees. He pushed the legs of her bloomers up until her garters were exposed. She sighed as he untied the ribbons behind her knees and slowly rolled the stockings down her legs, one by one. She saw that this was not something he was doing for the first time.

“Tell me, are you married? Or, do you have a girlfriend?” she asked.

Mac removed the rolled stockings from her feet and massaged her bare toes. As the folds of her pussy swelled between her thighs, Teddy relaxed her legs. Her knees eased open. She drained her champagne flute.

“No, ma’am, neither,” he answered.

Teddy smiled. She closed her eyes and softly moaned with the pleasure from Mac’s massage.

“Mr. Harpending did say you were to ‘be of whatever service I require’, eh?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I require you to pick me up into your arms, carry me into the bedroom, and finish undressing me. Can you do that?”

Mac swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am.”

Teddy hoped Asbury would never learn of his mistake, sending the young stud to escort her around town. She assumed Mac would have the good sense to never speak of his experiences with the English Lady.

***

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April 25, 2018

As the WIP-IT-UP blog roll comes to a close, I’ve another excerpt from Diamond Mountain Caper. My female detective is on a voyage to America to investigate the possible wrong-doing. She is in the company of a former lover, and some of her secrets slip out…

Excerpt:

The Atlantic Ocean – Sunday, September 18, 1870

In the morning, Theodora arose and changed from her nightdress into a simple light green frock. Having no maid to arrange her hair, she wrapped it into a bun and stuffed it under a bonnet. She tied the chinstrap tightly to keep the hat in place. She draped a white wool shawl over her shoulders and headed towards the ship’s deck with its stiff ocean breeze.

She had slept late and missed breakfast, but she hoped to find coffee in the main saloon. As she walked up the stairs, she thought about Asbury, and about how rekindling their brief affair would not be so very bad. He had been an attentive lover. It was she who had inflamed his need into a fevered pitch. Despite his haste, his performance had been more than adequate. And, he was correct—there was little else to do aboard ship. While secret affairs were difficult to conceal aboard the tightly packed ship, most of the passengers were Americans or people immigrating to America. Few knew who she was, and she would never see any of them again.

As Theodora crossed the saloon, she spotted Asbury sitting with his back to a porthole. He was reading. She chuckled to herself, imagining the many times he must have crossed the Atlantic. Only the most seasoned of sea travelers could read aboard ship without getting the seasickness.

As she approached, she noticed that he was reading one of the pulp periodicals known as Penny Dreadfuls. This one’s cover displayed a woman with large breasts barely concealed by a tattered leopard skin fashioned into a scant piece of clothing.  The title was Lady Strangways and the Brazilian Cannibals. Sensing her presence, he began reading aloud.

“Lady Theodora Strangways washed onto the beach having very nearly become the proverbial drowned rat. Struggling to her hands and knees, she crawled up the sandy shore until she was free of the breaking waves. There she collapsed and slept.

“Awaking, she had no idea how long she had been asleep, but the sun was setting. Taking stock of her situation, she discovered that the savage storm waters had ripped away her gown, stockings, and shoes; there was only enough material left from her chemise to fashion a tiny wrap to conceal her womanly charms. All about her were the scattered remains of the shipwreck. Searching through the debris, she found nothing of her shipmates. She did, however, find a knife and a piece of wood from which she created a spear.

“Following a collection of footprints, she marched into the jungle. She hoped to find her shipmates alive. She hoped to rescue them before the natives boiled them for dinner.”

Theodora chuckled. “I see that you have discovered another of my secrets.”

“Aye, and I see you have led a most interesting life. You weren’t lying about marching through the Brazilian jungle.”

“Those stories are not real. I have no connection with Mr. George Reynolds, who writes that tabloid. I don’t know where he gets his information, but some of his tales do strike remarkably close to real life. The truth is, I did once lead an expedition into the Brazilian jungle to investigate the demise of some British subjects that had shipwrecked. However, I was in the company of soldiers, the natives—while unfriendly—weren’t cannibals, and at no time did I lose a single stitch of my clothing.”

Asbury smiled. He stood, rolled the pamphlet, and tucked it into his coat pocket.

“Shall we take the morning air?” he asked. He offered his arm to Teddy. She placed her hand inside his elbow, and the two began strolling toward the grand staircase that led up to the deck.

“An interesting part to the story of my discovery,” he continued, “is that I didn’t discover this secret on my own. After my steward cleaned my room this morning, I found the booklet on my nightstand. Thus, it would appear that you have been unmasked, and the connection between us has been made.”

*****

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*****

April 18, 2018

I hear that the Wednesday Blog Roll is coming to an end. Sadly, I am not yet finished writing the Diamond Mountain Caper. But, I’ll continue telling you about it.

Perhaps you recall meeting my villain, Anastasia in a previous installment. This week, she is finalizing her plan. After a night of debauchery, she and her lover Phil will snap their trap upon the unsuspecting…

Excerpt:

Anastasia Kilbury spent the month finalizing the details of her plan and waiting for Philip Arnold’s return. She was delighted when he appeared shortly after Silver Spur Saloon stopped serving dinner. As she descended the stairs from her room, she spotted his tall, lean figure standing at the bar sipping a whiskey. Coming up behind him, she slipped her hand around his waist and held her lips close to his ear.

“You are sure a sight for sore eyes,” she whispered.

He turned toward her and smiled. “You surely stole my line.” He studied her for a moment, and added, “Can I buy you a drink?” Ana nodded and Phil turned to the bartender. “Two whiskeys,” he said.

The pair clinked they glasses and sipped. Ana noted that the bartender had given her real whiskey; he had not been able to discern which of the two glasses would be hers.

“I have a surprise for you,” Ana said, setting her glass on the bar.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. I think you are going to like it.” He winked. She was certain that he had no idea what she was talking about. He was probably imagining some special sexual favor, and that he would indeed receive; however, Ana was thinking about her plan, and how she was going to present it to him. “How’s your luck been?” she asked.

“Aw, ya know. It comes and goes. All the easy pickings are gone. I’ve been thinking of relocating to Nevada. Maybe signing on to this new Mountain of Silver.”

“You would work for someone else? As a hired hand?”

“Not my first choice, but I’ve done it before. Keeps coins in my pocket.” He jostled his vest pocket, and Ana heard the clinking of gold coins. “You were from Nevada, right?”

“Yes, and perhaps we could make a lot of money there.” She intentionally inserted the ‘we’ to test his reaction. She slipped her fingers into his waistband and tugged him closer. Straining her neck, she looked up into his eyes.

“You… would go with me?” He spoke the words slowly.

“Why don’t we go upstairs and talk about it.” She stepped back. Maintaining her hold on his jeans, she pulled him a step away from the bar.

“Hold on.” He turned his attention back to the bartender. “Two more.”

“Just one whiskey,” Ana said, to the bartender. “I need to stay fresh,” she whispered to Phil. “Get your drink, and I’ll meet you at the stairs.”

She released him and strode to the end of the bar where Mr. Morris was sitting, purveying his kingdom.

“Mr. Morris, this one wants all night and paid in advance.” Ana placed five dollar coins on the bar. “And here’s an extra one.” She added a sixth coin. He started to say something, but she cut off his words. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” However, Ana knew this last statement was a lie. If all went well, she would never see Edward Morris again.

*****

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*****

April 11, 2018

Sadly, I’ve been working on my income tax this week. I know — so lame! Anyway, here is a shameless plug for book already completed. In The Girl in the Riv, our heroine becomes an uninvited witness to a murder…

Excerpt:

There had been no warning. Only a sharp crack before the hotel room door swung open. From my cowgirl position, I had reached for my gun, but too quickly the first man’s strong hand seized my shoulder from behind. He had shoved me down onto the bed. A second man stood at the foot of the bed with his arm outstretched, holding a black pistol. Immediately, a puff of smoke escaped the silencer extending from the pistol’s barrel. The third man had retrieved the ejected casing. Then, Mr. Jones was dead.

It happened just that fast.

The second man climbed on the bed. He checked that Steve was indeed dead, then he pressed the warm muzzle of the recently fired gun to my forehead. The first man leaned into my face. His eyes were a deep brown. On the outside corner of his right eye was a distinctive fishhook-shaped vein.

“If you want to live, stay silent and do as you are told,” he said.

I sighed, and nodded as best I could with the gun pressed to my head.

The lights came on, and the two men stepped back. I could clearly see them for the first time. They were dressed completely in black—including black ski masks. Pausing for a heartbeat, they admired my body as I clutched one hand to my pubis and wrapped the other arm across my breasts.

Mr. Fishhook-eye flipped me onto my belly. Using his knee, he forced my face into the pillow. My gun was so close. I tried to ease my hand under the pillow, but he pulled my arms behind my back. He bound my wrists together with a plastic tie-strap. Simultaneously, the man with the gun bound my ankles with another tie-strap. The third man picked up my panties from the floor. With a handful of my hair, Mr. Fishhook pulled my head backward, and as my mouth fell open, the third man shoved the panty deep inside. He sealed my lips with a swath of tape. The men professionally finished their rodeo task. I had gone from cowgirl—taking Mr. Jones toward his second orgasm—to a hogtied calf in fifteen seconds.

With my head turned toward the wall, I couldn’t see what they were doing. However, they ignored me, the corpse, and any possibility that they would be discovered as they methodically searched and cleaned the room.

They talked among themselves, but too softly for me to understand. I listened to my heartbeat in my ears and tried to keep track of the passage of time—sixty beats to the minute. The door opened and closed several times. At one point, they used a vacuum cleaner to clean the room and the bed. After a couple of hours, the room was silent, but I didn’t trust that I was alone. I remained motionless.

*****

The Girl in the Riv is an erotic mystery-spy thriller following the last night of a Las Vegas convention of nuclear scientists. Dr. Steve Jones decides to go out with a bang. He hires Glenda Goodbed to entertain him for his last night—literally.

Homicide detective Bill Robertson suspects prostitute Paige Turner was a witness to the robbery and the murder of the nuclear scientist, but when she vanishes into thin air—nude—he is left with no clues to follow. The investigation points to a terror plot as the motive when a second woman appears as a possible accomplice to the murder, but then all of the clues evaporate.

Rival terrorists battle for possession of the scientist’s secrets and the sexy girls. Who will get them? Who are the good guys? And, just who is the Girl in the Riv?

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*****

April 4, 2018

Once again I have engaged my labor of love, and returned to writing the Diamond Mountain Caper. Perhaps you recall meeting my character, Asbury in the previous installment, where he met Lady Theodora Strangways. This week, he is encountering the other side of my criminal coin. After completing a sexual encounter, Anastasia seeks to Asbury’s enterprise…

Excerpt:

When his cock ceased twitching, she swallowed and leaned back. Without a word, she returned all of their clothing to its proper place, and sat in his lap.

She nuzzled against his neck, and whispered, “Asbury, did I do well for you? I enjoyed feeling your climax oh so much, and I can’t wait for the day I can share my womanhood with you.”

Asbury grunted and tried to shift position. He slipped a collection of bills into her hand. She knew that, having spent, he was done with her. However, she was not done with him. Ana held him close.

“Could I be an investor?” she whispered.

“What?”

“An investor in the new silver mine; could I be one?”

“Oh, I suppose so.” He studied her; perhaps thinking he could take advantage of her. “It would require a sizable investment. How much do you have?”

“This is the most valuable thing I own.” Ana once again opened her vest. From a secret pocket inside her corset, she removed the diamond. She held it between her fingers where a shaft of light caught the translucent stone. A myriad of colors flashed into Asbury’s eyes. She saw his intense interest focus on the stone.

“Where did you get this?”

He reached for the stone, and Ana let him take it. He held it to the merger light and examined it closely.

“It’s a diamond, isn’t it? A man gave it to me.” She did not add that it had been in payment for her services, though surely Asbury suspected as much. “Is it worth enough to buy a stake in the Mountain of Silver?”

He ignored her question. “Where did this man say he got the diamond?”

*****

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*****

March 14, 2018

Progress on the Diamond Mountain Caper is progressing, though I am going to be on hiatus for a few weeks. Here, 20K words into the story, we have Lady Theodora Strangways encountering a key character in our story, Asbury. The two met the previous evening, and he unwittingly assisted our consulting detective in the apprehension of a jewel thief. She decides to reward him, and knocks on his hotel room door…

Excerpt:

“Sir, you rang for me?” The maid appeared in the doorway.

“Yes,” Asbury said. “Coffee and toast with some of that marmalade.”

“And, could you please runt the water for the bath?” Theodora added.

“Yes, ma’am.” The maid entered the bedroom and opened the taps to supply warm water. “I’ll be back in a few moments,” she said, curtseyed and left, leaving the door open.

“This is quite a surprise,” he said. “You do have a habit of being full of surprises.”

“Indeed, it is what I do.” She smiled. “Besides being a financial genius, what is it you do?”

“Just that, now. I have been a number of things in the past: a soldier, a smuggler, a gold miner. But, now I arrange financial deals. I helped finance the new transcontinental railroad, the Comstock Lode mines, and I am here in London arranging a deal for a silver mine in New Mexico. It has been called a Mountain of Silver in the Times. Perhaps you have read about it.”

“Such things don’t normally interest me, but indeed I have read about that. Should I be investing my money in American silver mines?”

“Well, there are some worthy possibilities, but not this one. The hype has far outstripped the reality.”

“That happens so many times. One’s mind imagines great things, only to find disappointment.” She smiled. “I am expecting big things this morning.”

The maid returned and placed a tray on the side table, and turned off the water running into the tub. As she departed, the maid closed the door.

“Why don’t you settle in the bath, while the water is hot, and I will prepare your coffee and toast,” Theodora said.

Asbury crossed to the bedroom, and she heard the slosh of water. After locking the door, she poured a cup of coffee and spread the marmalade on the toast. She carried the cup and plate into the bedroom. The bed had not been made.

“Here.” She pulled a small table to the tub, and placed his breakfast within reach. She fixed a coffee for herself and stood, watching him eat. After a few sips, she set her cup down, and began to unbutton her frock. “If I am to assist you, I don’t want to get this wet.”

He grinned, and watched her disrobe down to her bloomers, chemise, and stockings. She untied her shoes and removed them.

“Shall I start with your back, Asbury?”

She picked up the soap and a cloth. He leaned forward, and she knelt behind him.

“What is your full name, Teddy?”

She continued soaping and rinsing his back. “Teddy is all you need to know.” She leaned over his shoulder, and rubbed the soap into his chest.

*****

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*****

March 7, 2018

While I’ve not been hard at work, I have been working on my next Lady Strangways affair – Diamond Mountain Caper. As you might recall, last week I introduced my villain, Anastasia. This week I digress a bit to her past. Among other things, we learn how she got the job at the Sacramento brothel…

Excerpt:

“Your letter indicates that you are quite skilled, and worth more than a dollar. Do you care to demonstrate?” Mr. Morris asked.

Ana had arrived fully prepared to audition for the job.

She stood and slowly, sensuously unbuttoned her dress. Opening the neckline, the creamy bare skin of her shoulders came into view. She eased the dress off her shoulders.  Having forgone a chemise, her corset shaped the tops of her breasts into delicious round ivory mounds.

Ana sucked in a deep breath to swell her bosom even more. The glint in Mr. Morris’ eyes told her she was going to get the job. She pushed her dress down to the floor and stepped out of it. Pulling loose the string ties, she dropped her underskirt leaving her clad in only the corset, bloomers, and stockings.

Stepping around the desk, she sat in his lap. She began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Tell me, sir, how do you like your women?” Ana trailed her fingers on his bare skin, from his neck to his belly. She felt his muscles quiver under her touch. She nuzzled her face against his neck, and whispered, “I can do anything you desire.” She kissed below his ear.

Ana had found the men digging silver from the Nevada mountains to be kind, gentle, and respectful of women. Many of them were married and sought a comforting reminder of their wives. Most others wanted a wife and sought to experience what that would be like. She had learned to fulfill this role.

A good many of the entertainers used laudanum to dull their senses when performing. Ana never touched the stuff. To complete her performance, she cleared her mind of all thoughts of the man she was actually with, and conjured up images from the romance novels she had read. The English novels were her favorites, but for this afternoon’s session she chose The Bride Fair by Cheryl Reavis. She imagined herself to be Maria Markham lusting for Colonel Max Woodard.

“Finish getting naked, first,” Morris said, in answer to her question.

She eased up from his lap and turned her back to him. “Can you help me with this?” She pointed to the laces of her corset.

*****

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*****

February 28, 2018

So many books ideas – So little time

My muse is really getting frustrated at the demands life is placing on my writing time. At her insistence, I put fingers to the keyboard yesterday and began Book 2 of the Lady Strangways series. While not exactly a sequel to Arsenic and the Socialite, this new book will also fictionalized real crime events and include real historical figures. It’s tentatively titled Diamond Mountain Caper. An additional feature will be Lady Strangways’ adventure in the American West as she attempts to solve the mystery of Diamond Mountain.

In this excerpt, we meet our villain…

Excerpt:

Sacramento, California – 1870

“Oh, my God,” Anastasia moaned. She tossed her head back as the orgasm exploded. “Ah-ooh.”

The waves of pleasure pulsated along her spine as every muscle clenched and released in a rolling cascade. When her pussy tightened around Phil’s cock, she felt his member twitch as his climax followed hers.

“That was soo good,” she whispered. Collapsing onto his chest, she listened to the freight train hammering of his heart.

Breathless, Phillip stroked her hair.

Ana was good at her job—very good. However, she didn’t climax with all of her customers. A prostitute simply could not have real orgasms with all of the men. Most of them simply did not bother to spend the time a woman required. Nonetheless, she always left her customers believing themselves to be God’s gift to women as she faked a big ‘O’ following their thirty seconds of pumping. She felt a bit guilty for the disservice she created for the men’s future—or current—wives. The men would doubtlessly be disappointed to discover their brides were flawed, and required so much more effort to please in bed.

However, Phillip Arnold was a regular. He always took the time required to build her lust into excitement, and on to an avalanche of pleasure. Additionally, he allowed her to ride him cowgirl fashion. She always enjoyed being on top instead of being crushed under the men who pounded her in the missionary position.

Being a whore had not been her choice of professions, but fate can be a harsh mistress. Nonetheless, of all the tribulations providence had pressed upon her, this situation was nirvana.

Ana climbed from the bed and retrieved the washbasin. Standing nude, she washed herself and then her customer. Pulling a nightdress over her head, she retrieved Phil’s clothes and began to dress him. She would like to spend the evening lounging in bed with him, but his hour was up and she had a quota to fill.

“When will I see you again?” she asked.

“I dunno, not much gold left in those hills.” Phillip reached into his pocket are retrieved a handful of small stones. Ana recognized three gold nuggets, each the size of a pea. He extended his palm toward her. “Take your pick.”

Anastasia selected what appeared to be the largest nugget; she guessed it was worth at least two dollars—double her customary fare. The Gold Rush was over; the California economy was shifting away from gold miners. However, Phillip Arnold was one of the few die-hards. He had migrated from panning the hills to mining in the Nevada mountains, east of Carson City. “I don’t know no other way,” he had once explained.

“What’s this?” Ana pointed to a small translucent, oblonged pebble in his palm. Additionally, she recognized a ruby and a sapphire.

“Ah, it is a pretty stone, to be sure. It brings me good luck.”

Gingerly, Ana picked up the small rock. It had a smooth, almost oily feel to it. She noticed its symmetry.

“I could certainly use a good luck charm. May I have it?”

Phillip grinned. “Aye, lassie.”

A pang of guilt briefly gripped Ana’s heart. He doubtlessly did not know what the stone was, or at least what she thought it was. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “For luck,” she said, and mentally prodded herself to reward him with something special next time he was in town. As he was freshly spent, this would be a debt she would have to pay sometime down the road.

Ana opened a drawer and dropped the gold nugget and the odd stone into an empty jar labeled cold cream.

*****

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*****

February 21, 2018

Once again, I’ve been a bad boy. I’ve not been working on my Work-In-Progress. However, I thought I would take this opportunity to tell y’all something autobiographical. You see, I once had a sailboat and I sailed the coastal water around the Florida Keys and the Bahamas. This is a picture of my boat:

I combined a number of my more interesting adventures {and some fiction} into my book The Naked Sea. In this excerpt, two women have picked me up in a bar. I’ll leave exactly what happens next unsaid, and force you to read the book. However, the next day they join me for an evening sail…

Excerpt:

“That’s Rodriguez Key,” I point to an island passing along the starboard side.  “It is a protected bird sanctuary; access is restricted.  When I was first here in 1979 the locals called it Monkey Island and there was a plan to raise monkeys there for experimental laboratory use.  But, I don’t think they ever actually did it.”  I give Karen and Janet the tour spiel.

Janet picks up a floatation seat cushion and heads for the bow deck.  Using the cushion as a back rest, she reclines against the cabin roof facing forward.  A minute later I watch as she unfastens the back strap of her bikini top.  She pulls the bra half of her bikini free from her head and hair.

“Janet, that’s not allowed,” I call to her.

Turning to lay on one side, she looks back to me; her exposed breasts unfettered.  “What?” she asks.

“Topless sunbathing,” I continue, “it’s a rule I have…no topless sunbathing is allowed on my boat.  If you take your top off, you must go all the way…au naturel.”  She studies me for a moment, and then I see her squirm and wiggle behind the cabin roof.  Then she holds up the panty half of her bikini and waves it in the wind.  “Yes, that’s better,” I shout back to her over the roar of the wind and rushing water.

Karen studies me for a moment and then says, “That’s not exactly fair.  You are…topless,” she drags a fingernail across my bare chest and then tugs at a tuft of chest hair.  Shrugging, I unzip my shorts and pull them with my underwear off and toss them into the cabin.  I recline on my side along the port cockpit seat.  After a moment of playful reflection, Karen too strips off her bikini and tosses it on top of my shorts on the cabin floor.  She reclines in a parallel posture along the starboard seat.  Smiling her hand drifts along her abdomen to her pubis.  She grins devilishly as her index finger twirls in its brown hair.  I slip from my seat to kneel on the cockpit floor beside her.

When the afternoon has turned to early evening, with the sunset painting the sky pink, I turn the boat around and head back to Port Largo.

“Janet,” I shout to her as she reclines on the bow, “I’m coming about…that is…the jib sail will change to the other side of the boat.  Watch out for it.”  She waves the ‘OK’ sign back to me.  After the maneuver is completed, Janet returns to the cockpit.  Still nude, she’s holding her bikini halves in one hand and guiding herself along the side of the boat using the handrail on the cabin roof with her other hand.

Stepping over the coaming she eyes our nudity and says, “So…are you two kids finished playing doctor?”  By way of an answer Karen pours the last of our bottle of White Zinfandel into a plastic cup and hands it to her.

“We saved you some,” she says.

“Ah,” Janet responds after a deep sip, “you think bribing mommy will prevent the spankings for the naughty children?”

“I better get another bottle,” I say and head down into the cabin.

“Yes, you’d better,” she says after draining her cup.  I can’t make out the words, but I hear the two women talking while I open the fresh bottle of Zin.  When I hear a burst of giggles, I turn to look at the two pink faces, illuminated by the setting sun, watching me.

*****

There are many more adventures in The Naked Sea. All of them have some element of truth, though some are more fanciful than others. You can read the first chapter by clicking here. Or, purchase at:

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*****

January 31, 2018

Another month has slipped into history. Say, did y’all get to see the lunar eclipse this morning?

Sahalie Blue and I (aka Sterling Scott) have scratched the surface of Passion Quest Book 3. You perhaps recall Book 1: Love on a Forbidden Planet and Book 2: Love Under the Violet Crown, well this book is yet untitled. Once again, our heroine Alien Anthropologist Dr. Amy Toller will match wits with the beings of a new world. Who will come out on top?

Excerpt:

Chapter One

The chairman scanned the audience, sweeping his eyes from the left to the right. It was standing room only. He could not recall having ever seen the auditorium filled to capacity before. He tapped a fingernail on the podium and listened as the sound broadcast over the speakers. A rolling silence passed through the people as all eyes turned to him. He cleared his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, today’s speaker needs no introduction, yet exactly this task has been laid at my feet.” He cleared his throat again and swallowed. He glanced toward the woman, more than 20 years his senior, seated behind him and to the right. Returning his attention to the audience, he calmed himself by focusing on the purple shirt worn by one student in the center of the arena. “Dr. Amy Toller graduated from this University 55 years ago and has been an esteemed member of this faculty for the past 50 years, though she has been on hiatus—off exploring the Galaxy—for most of that time. She has been the guiding light for our alien studies program since the days of the war. In the darkest days of the war with the Barabas, she answered the call when our people needed her most. Discarding her scientific role aboard the Starship Carpenter, she led a ground assault against a superior force on Corvus-3. In hindsight, this was the pivotal battle of the war and lead to our ultimate victory. But, you already know this.”

The chairman sipped his water.

“Following the war, she created the University’s Alien Anthropology Engineering program, though this turned out to something of a misnomer. Through Dr. Toller’s explorations, we learned the true origin of humanity. What were once ancient myths have been proven to be true history. While engineering the aliens,” he used his fingers to create quote marks in the air around the word ‘aliens’, “living on Maia-3, she discovered that these people were humans, just like us. She found evidence that their history was the same as ours. Earth does indeed exist. All of the humanity in the Galaxy does have a common origin. But, you already know this.”

He held the edges of the podium and stood statue still for a long, pregnant pause.

“Today, Dr. Toller is here to tell us about the next chapter in our history. I give you my mentor, my friend… Dr. Amy Toller.”

The chairman took a step backwards and to the left as his right arm completed a sweeping gesture to the guest speaker. The woman who stood had short brown hair and a slender figure. She appeared childlike, no more than 20 years old. He leaned over the podium so that its auditory pick-up would capture his voice.

“Perhaps you did not know that she has recently completed the body rejuvenation process.”

With a steady gate that she had not known for 30 years, Amy walked to the podium. She presented an uncharacteristic grin and said, “Surprise.”

The body rejuvenation process was exceeding expensive, and thus, was rarely granted by the Health Ministry. Not only could the populous not afford to give a large number of people new bodies, there would be nowhere to keep the populous if everyone lived forever. However, there were individuals deemed to possess knowledge and experiences that could not be passed on via traditional education or brainwave transfers. At the age of 80, Amy Toller had long been retired when something extraordinary had happened. Suddenly, she was notified that she had been selected to receive a new body. One by one, her internal organs were injected with stem cells. From her toes to her nose, her body had been regenerated over a period of three months.

She stood tall at the podium. Eighty years had compressed her bones and joints, shrinking her height by nearly two inches. However, her body now had its original height. Her breasts were once again perky, her muscles toned, and her skin unblemished.

The students stood and applauded.

*****

Both books of the Passion Quest series are available from Amazon and FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

 Love on a Forbidden Planet

Love Under the Violet Crown

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*****

January 17, 2018

I’ve been naughty. I have no Work-In-Progress these days. But, I am turning some attention to revitalizing some books I wrote a few years ago—when I was young. My next target is the second book in the Paige Turner Affairs: The Girl Goes Deep. Paige Turner’s life as an undercover prostitute is dizzying as she navigates the criminal underbelly of the adult playground – Las Vegas.

This excerpt is pre-revitalization. Paige has just encountered three spies from her past:

“Now, one more thing,” the man now identified as David says.  “When last we spoke you said you are a prostitute – for real.”

He waits and finally I say, “Yes.”

“I recall you said you were a damn good one – eh?”

Crap, I knew that snarky comment would come back to haunt me.  “Yes,” I smirk.

“We are freshly arrived in town and lonely.”  From his pants pocket he withdraws a wad of bills and puts them on the table.  Shit, this is exactly why Jackson follows me around!  While I occasionally had sex to keep my cover, I strove to avoid it.

Could he still be testing me?

“Sorry, I’m finished for the night.  I can give you some phone numbers…”

Mr. Heterochromia chuckles and David interrupts with, “No, that won’t do.  Let me be a bit more specific.  I’m not suggesting that you…do…the two of us.  I have something else in mind…and I only trust you.”  He taps the back of my hand as it holds the wine glass.

I look down at the fat stack of bills and back into his eyes, “What?”

He makes a nod towards his shoulder and I see a hitherto unnoticed third man in a black pinstripe suite standing by the wall.  He is much younger – younger than me – and not paying direct attention to us but rather he is their lookout.  “My young assistant, Michael, is getting married soon.”  He pauses but I refuse to give him another segue.  Finally, he continues, “He is a virgin, but his betrothed is not.  She does not know this – know that he is so inexperienced.  It appears that he lied to her and now he is afraid that he will…embarrass himself on his wedding night.  He is afraid that he will be unable to…please her.”  He puts a hotel room key card on top of the money and pushes it towards me.  “Room 823.  It would greatly please me if you could show him some…pointers.”

“You have GOT to be kidding!” I say with genuine astonishment.

“No,” he flatly states.

I stand up and look first at the youthful Michael and then I look back at David before asking, “Honest to God, you are telling me the truth?”  This was carefully chosen wording as it was my invocation of God that caused them to cease their torture of me.  I sling my purse back over my shoulder.

“Yes,” he emphatically responds.

I look at Michael again and this time he is looking at me.  He is rather attractive.  Mr. Heterochromia chuckles.  I sigh and chug down the last of my wine.  Putting the glass on the table I pick up the room key and softly say, “Keep the money.  Wait ten minutes and then send him up with another glass of wine.”

Intent on keeping my prostitution cover, I turn and head back toward the elevators thinking that Jackson would have wanted me to take the money.

*****

While the re-editing work continues, The Girl Goes Deep is on sale for 99 pennies.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Other retailers via Books2Read

You can read the entire first chapter by clicking here.

 

*****

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*****

January 10, 2018

Hark the herald — The time is nigh!

If the creek don’t rise, Cowgirl Thrill Rider will be released by Blushing Books tomorrow. This

Roaring ‘20s western penned by Sahalie Blue and myself (Sterling Scott) is filled with thrills, spills, and spanked bottoms.

As our story progresses, Polly has conspired with Mr. Cross to fix a bet. Now, she must attempt to collect her share of the winnings…

Excerpt:

Polly hastened to her tent and changed into her street clothes. She selected a white blouse with matching light blue vest and skirt. Expecting that Mr. Cross lived in a well-to-do part of town, she donned white stockings. In lieu of her usual garters, she wore the latest in women’s undergarments under her bloomers: a belt with attached suspenders to hold up the tops of her stockings. Her low cut shoes displayed her ankles and the stockings. Though the sun was low in the autumn sky, she topped the outfit with a beret and parasol.

“Wow,” Lulu let loose with a whistle, “where is Buck taking you tonight?”

“Uh, nowhere. If he comes by, please tell him that I had some shopping to do.”

“Sure, but I’m guessing that would be a lie.”

Polly hated to lie to Buck, but she was not certain what he would think of her involvement in the bet. She also hated lying to Lulu.

“Yes, but it is only a little white lie.”

“So, c’mon, where are you really going?” Lulu dragged out her words, adding extra syllables.

Polly clasped her friend’s hands in hers. “Please don’t tell anyone, but during yesterday’s show Buck’s father’s friend, Mr. Cross, placed a bet with Mr. Hazelton. It was about the bronc riding event. And, well you see, I stayed on the horse for four extra seconds to help him win the bet.”

“Polly—”

“Yes, I know I shouldn’t have agreed to it, but it seemed harmless enough at the time. Though, I am feeling rather bad about it now.”

“So, where are you going?”

“To enlist my cooperation, Mr. Cross offered me a hundred dollars—”

“Polly, no! You didn’t give him the idea he was buying anything, did you?” Lulu gripped her crotch.

“No, of course not! Please, don’t tell anyone, but that is where I’m going. I’m going to Mr. Cross’s house to collect the money. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

*****

Keep your eyes glued to the Blushing Books and Amazon web pages. Be the first to download Cowgirl Thrill Rider into your library.

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*****

January 3, 2018

Wow, this is the first time I’ve written the new date — 2018! How odd it feels; how fast time flies. Speaking of rapidly flying time, it is only a matter of days until Cowgirl Thrill Rider by Sahalie Blue and Sterling Scott (my alter ego) is released by Blushing Books.

This excerpt introduces Polly’s performance in the “Texas Jack McAllen and Coyote Carl’s Wild West Riders and Ropers”…

*****

For the next two hours, they were thrilled by Texas Jack’s Wild West show. First up was the opening parade of cowboys and cowgirls, with the brass band on horseback playing their renditions of the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ and ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy.’ Clarence spotted Polly riding Silver Blaze, waving to the crowd.

“There she is,” Clarence said, pointing his daughter Polly out to Irene, his wife.

The parade was followed by the various re-enactments, the first of which was a scene showing covered wagons crossing the Great Plains. Like the other members of the troupe, Polly was among the actors portraying pioneers being attacked in their wagons by fierce Indians, and saved by noble Army scouts in a deafening shootout. Following that, an old Deadwood stagecoach hold-up was carried out by vicious armed bandits. Buffalos were hunted, but not actually killed. Pony Express riders showed how the mail was delivered in the days prior to the invention of the telegraph.

Irv provided lively commentary during the performances which followed. One display after another was acted out for the enjoyment of the audience. Buck gave a stellar bronc-busting performance during the rodeo segment of the show. Rocky charmed the crowd with his fancy rope tricks. Niko, Marta, Ivan and Polly wowed the spectators with their daring feats of Cossack trick riding. Native Americans wearing traditional Indian clothing chanted, sang, and danced to honor the ways of their elders.

After Polly’s flawless performance, Clarence turned to the man behind him, and exclaimed with pride, “That’s my daughter!”

The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Irv introduced the show’s final performance. “Witness feats of marksmanship, daring and bravery by the greatest rifle shot in the world.” Dazzled patrons cheered as Lulu left them in a haze of gun smoke. For an encore, the entire company mounted their horses and made a spirited dash around the arena.

After the show, young Bonnie could barely contain her excitement. She jumped up and down, and asked Irene, “Grandma, wasn’t that fun? Can we come again tomorrow?”

Irene shook her head, “I don’t think so, child.”

Later that evening, Buck had arranged to take everyone to dinner at a nice restaurant not far from the showgrounds in Lincoln.

*****

Cowgirl Thrill Rider will be available from Blushing Books real soon. You might also enjoy another collaboration between Miss Blue and Sterling Scott. This spanko SciFi adventure is sure to thrill you. Love Under the Violet Crown is available from Amazon and FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

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*****

December 27, 2017

For the final Work-In-Progress blog roll of the year, I have an opening scene from Cowgirl Thrill Rider. This western romance has been written by Sahalie Blue and myself (as Sterling Scott). In this excerpt our heroine, Polly, learns an early lesson.

*****

Polly had never been inside a jailhouse before. She studied the faces on the wanted posters.

The sheriff ran his hands over his face. “How is it your pa lets you girls run around wearing pants? That kinda outfit isn’t respectable for pretty young ladies to wear. Miss Hannah, I hope when you git married your husband-to-be puts his foot down. Ya look like cowboys when ya should be wearing long riding skirts. Or better yet, you should come ta town in a wagon wearing them floor-length hoop dresses with corsets, or whatever it is that proper young ladies wear.” He blushed slightly.

“Sheriff, these aren’t pants. They are split skirts,” Hannah argued. “Polly and I made them ourselves.” Hannah proudly lifted her nose into the air. “We cut our skirts up the middle and sewed them together to make divided legs. Besides, Polly and I were in riding contests at the fair this morning. It was simply more practical to wear the split-skirts than full ones,” she sniffed. “And anyway, there is no law saying women can’t wear pants if they want to, is there?”

“Well no, but, it ‘taint proper, and in my town, I want you gals to look like a gal and not a man.”

“There is nothing improper about women wearing pants. The suffragist Miss Lucy Stone wore them sixty years ago, and the lady ranchers, and the nurses, wear them too. It is 1916, after all.” Hannah had apparently anticipated this argument and had come prepared.

The sheriff shook his finger at her. “Don’t be insultin’. I know what year this is,” he spat. “Lucy Stone, eh? Now there is one busy-body you best not mention hereabouts. The church don’t allow pants, and I don’t allow pants.” He pinched off a piece of tobacco and stuffed it in his mouth. “Hannah, I warned ya that if I caught ya wearin’ one of those pant, skirt-things to town again, I’d spank your butt.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Sheriff Sprague, I think it’s ridiculous that I can’t wear pants just because I’m a woman.” Hannah’s words spoke of self-righteous determination, but Polly sensed that her sister’s confidence had faded.

He got out of his chair and reached for Hannah’s arm. “Humph. Come with me, young lady.”

With a sudden need to defend her sister’s honor—and her bottom—Polly spoke up. “Sheriff, she meant no disrespect. It can be dangerous to ride with a long, bulky skirt. Our cousin got the fabric caught up in her stirrup. She got dragged beneath her horse and was hurt. Surely you can see that.”

He didn’t reply. Apparently, to his way of thinking, there was no acceptable excuse that could be made. Polly followed him as he led Hannah down a hallway lined with empty jail cells. He directed her inside one.

“Sheriff, please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” Hannah pleaded one more time, her voice quivering.

“Now you git yerself in there. Kneel down, and bend over that there cot.”

Hannah knelt on the stone floor and turned back to look questioningly at the man.

“Butt-side up, girl. Don’t make me say it again.”

*****

Cowgirl Thrill Rider will be published by Blushing Books in two weeks!

 

While I failed to enroll my contribution to the WIP-IT Wednesday blog roll, don’t you fail to check out the other entries. Click the link below:

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*****

December 13, 2017

Followers of this page must be pretty sick hearing Arsenic and the Socialite. Well, you’ve probably not heard the last of it, but it is now published and live on Amazon — Free on Kindle Unlimited and 99 cents for everyone else (for a limited time).

This book has been a year and a half in the making; not that I worked on it nonstop for that long. Was it worth the wait? You be the judge (buy links at the bottom).

Over the course of writing it, it went through some changes. I decided to use this as Book One of a new series with a new character, and to go in a different direction. While still erotic and spanky, it is less so than my other books. I’m trying to edge into the mainstream.

Blurb:

Too Many Suspects!

In 1857 a Frenchman living in Glasgow, Scotland has been murdered. When consulting detective Lady Theodora Strangways arrives, she quickly discovers his wife, his fiancé, and his lover. However, which one poisoned him, or did they all three conspire together?

Rich with the history of the Victorian Age, Lady Strangways and her lover, Scotland Yard Inspector John Digby, search for the answers.

***

So without further ado, let’s see how the story begins…

 

Chapter One

The Crown Advocate, Lord Moncreiff, turned in his seat. He watched the bailiff raise the trapdoor in the floor behind the dock. From the depths of the jail beneath the Edinburgh courtroom, the accused climbed the narrow stairs. With no apprehension for the proceedings that were to unfold, the woman charged with murder carried an air of one attending a theatrical performance. In the company of the prison matron and two guards, she sat in the dock of the accused.

She briefly nodded toward her barrister, John Inglis, Lord Glencorse.he Crown Advocate, Lord Moncreiff, turned in his seat. He watched the bailiff raise the trapdoor in the floor behind the dock. From the depths of the jail beneath the Edinburgh courtroom, the accused climbed the narrow stairs. With no apprehension for the proceedings that were to unfold, the woman charged with murder carried an air of one attending a theatrical performance. In the company of the prison matron and two guards, she sat in the dock of the accused.

Her complexion after three months in prison was still blooming, though the rosy hue of her cheeks may have been a result of artificial means. She wore a brown silk dress with matching cloak and a straw bonnet adjusted such that the whole front of her head was exposed. Her hair was fashioned in the manner made popular by French Empress Eugenie de Montijo, with her hair parted in the middle and swept back to end in a profusion of ringlets gathered behind her head. The only evidence of her nervousness was the silver-topped, rock-crystal vial of smelling salts in her left hand.

Everyone stood while the panel of three judges took their seats: Lord Justice-Clerk Hope and Lords Ivory and Handyside.

Moncreiff stood at the bar. A moment of mental paralysis overcame him and he remained mute.

“My Lord Advocate, are you going to call your witness today?” Lord Hope growled.

“I do beg your pardon, my lord.” Matthew Moncreiff cleared his throat. He glanced at the clock—half past ten. “The prosecution calls London detective Lady Theodora Strangways to the box.”

While the detective made her way to the witness box, Moncreiff’s gaze once again fell upon the accused woman. With the appearance of the London detective, her expression turned ashen. Her eyes were transfixed upon Lady Strangways.

The gallery overflowed with hushed spectators. To some extent, the unique murder case had drawn the crowd, but Moncreiff suspected that many of Edinburgh’s citizens were curious to see the female detective of whom so much had been written. Her short, slender figure contrasted with the legends of her escapades. One could hardly see this delicate young woman apprehending murderers and spies.

Known for her risqué appearance, she did not fail the spectators’ expectations. Her light gray skirt flowed close to her slender torso, its length an inch shorter than the conservative fashion of the day. As she walked, all eyes from the gallery focused on the tight material stretched across the full curves of her derrière. No one breathed when she lifted her hem—revealing her ankles sheathed in only the thinnest kidskin leather boots imaginable and her black stockings. Tarrying a moment longer, she held her hem as she turned in the witness box to face the gallery.

Moncreiff noticed the sly smile that graced her lips as the gallery of spectators, almost entirely men, exhaled in unison.

Standing at the box, she straightened her jacket and swore to present only the truth to the court. Her expression and tone were emotionless; her poise reflected her experience in the royal courts of Europe. Sitting, she inhaled deeply. The tops of her breasts swelled against their confining corset.

Moncreiff hoped that Lady Strangways might extend her proclamation of the facts to include an opinion as to the guilt of the accused. A simple word, implying she believed the woman had murdered her lover, would be all the evidence the jury needed to vote for a conviction. Lady Strangways’ exploits had been widely publicized. Certainly most adults knew the adventure stories written for the penny dreadfuls were fiction, but the quantity of esteem laid at her feet gave this detective’s words more weight than those of any other witness.

“Lady Strangways,” Moncreiff again cleared his throat, “could you please tell the court how you came to be associated with this case.”

He had deviated from the line of inquiry he had practiced with her, and her expression revealed a level of annoyance. However, he had forgotten his rehearsed lines and needed a moment to glance over his notes. Thus, he had opened with the unexpected question.

“I was summoned to the city of Glasgow on Tuesday, March twenty-six of this year, 1857, by Scotland Yard Inspector John Digby. A man by the name of Pierre Emile L’Angelier had been found dead on March twenty-second, and the investigation indicated he had been poisoned. He was initially thought to be French, but he was from Jersey in the Channel Isles.”

∞∞∞

Lady Theodora Strangways turned the page of the booklet and continued reading.

Theodora was thrown to the deck as the ships collided. She knew it would be only moments until the pirates were upon her. Sensing her survival lie with quick, decisive action, she stripped off her gown and chemise. The cool ocean breeze flowed over her nude skin as she pulled the trousers and shirt from the lifeless body of the cabin boy.

Donning the masculine clothes, she cinched a belt around her waist. Bundling her flowing, golden locks, she pulled a hat firmly over her head. Retrieving two pistols from the captain’s chest, she wedged one into the belt over her left hip. With a dagger in her left hand, and the second pistol in her right, she thrust open the cabin door.

Mayhem filled the deck as seamen battled the pirates in hand-to-hand combat.

Cornered, the captain bravely dueled with two blackguards, his saber rattling against their advancing cutlasses. Seeing that they were about to get the best of him, Lady Strangways plunged her dagger into the back of one pirate. As the second one turned to advance upon her, she fired the pistol into his face. The demon men from hell collapsed to the deck.

The captain presented a quick salute with his sword, though it was clear he did not recognize her.

Theodora tossed the spent pistol aside and turned her attention to the pirate ship.

With her bare feet slipping in pools of blood, she untied the line to one of the grappling hooks. Hoisting herself onto the railing, she wedged the blade of the stiletto between her teeth. Gripping the rope with both hands, she launched herself across the gap between the ships.

Landing on the pitching deck of the pirate ship, she scrambled to her feet.

Immediately, hands fell upon her; fisticuffs battered her body. Taking the knife from her mouth, she swung around to dole out her measure upon the attacker, slicing into the man’s arm.

He retorted with his cutlass. The flat of the blade smashed the dagger from her hand.

Lady Strangways glared into the fiery eyes of Blackbeard, the most bloodthirsty pirate of the high seas. She was looking into the eyes of Satan himself.

The hellish man sliced again with his blade, but Theodora leaned backward. While the attack missed cutting into her flesh, it severed her shirt. Cut to rags, the cloth fell open.

Blackbeard froze in amazement as her alabaster breasts swung into view.

“Lady Strangways, this is your doing!” he exclaimed, tantalized by the orbs displayed before him.

While the vile man’s gaze remained transfixed upon her naked, feminine charms, Theodora slipped the second pistol from her waistband. However, she held it out of sight.

“Indeed. Now, surrender or die,” she hissed.

“Never,” the pirate captain scowled.

He drew back his blade to cut off her head.

Leveling her aim between the coal-black pools that were the man’s eyes, Lady Strangways fired the pistol.

“As you wish,” she said to his corpse.

The train whistle blew and Lady Theodora Strangways closed the cover of the booklet, her heart racing with excitement. My, but I am good, she mused to herself.

 

*****

If you enjoyed this snippet, you can read more. FREE with Kindle Unlimited and (for a limited time) on SALE for 99 cents.

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*****

December  5, 2017

Alas, I have no Work-In-Progress this week. So, I will shamelessly plug a favorite: South Pass Brides. This story is about Olga and Thomas on their travels west on the Oregon Trail. Needless to say, there is a spanking or two along the way…

Excerpt:

Olga’s spine shivered as he unsheathed his Bowie knife. He whacked off a two-foot long, thin branch and stripped it of leaves.

He means to use a switch on me!

As the meaning of his intention materialized in her brain, she thought of running, but her feet remained rooted. She opened her lips and tried to suck in a breath, but her diaphragm froze.

He doesn’t appear to be angry. Perhaps he is just threatening. He is only going to scare me.

“So, it is my intention to deal with this myself,” he continued. “However, if you would rather, I’m sure that either Mr. Smoot or Mr. Hatch would do the honors.” He made a test swoosh of his switch through the air. He snapped it against his boot and its sharp report made her jump.

Oh, God no, this is not a mere threat.

Olga imagined that Abram was busy administering a paddling to Martha, and she had no interest in submitting herself to Hatch.

“No,” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m ready for my punishment now.” The notion of having Thomas’s hands upon her made her core tingle. An excitement quivered within her. Her pussy pulsed.

*****

South Pass Brides is available from

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Blushing Books

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*****

November 29, 2017

Followers of this page will no doubt recall that Sahalie Blue and myself (as Sterling Scott) have a new Western in the mill: Cowgirl Thrill Rider. In fact, this book is scheduled for publication by Blushing Books on January 11th. In this story, Polly is a trick rider in a Wild West Show.

In this snippet, Polly and her husband are settling in on their new ranch…

Excerpt:

Buck held his world in his arms. He was exhausted, but sleep wouldn’t come. Polly was cuddled against him, her fanny pressing into his cock, which, despite his best efforts, was slowly coming to life. Again. He wanted her. Again. He inhaled the scent of her womanly essence and stared into the blackness of the bedroom. His fingertips skimmed her small, soft breast, and he smiled. She had brought a softness to his hard life.

How many times had he gotten up in the morning, to face the harsh elements? His mind flashed back to the war; the horror, the blood, the stench of death. He forced himself not to go there. He had wrestled bulls, he had pitched hay. He had pitted his strength against defiant horses. The dry dust had seeped into every pore in his body.

Her soft, velvety skin comforted him. Her femininity was intoxicating.

She sighed in her sleep.

He whispered, “I love you.”

“Mm.” She snuggled closer and then went still again.

He cupped his hand over the fullness of her bosom, and grazed her nipple with his thumb. In an instant, it hardened. In tandem, so did his cock. Need, like a coiled rope, swirled hot and deep. If he was to get any sleep at all, he had to have her, again. He untangled their bodies, and laid her on her back, flicking at her nipple with his tongue.

She trembled and sighed once more as he took the erect pebble into his mouth. It swelled, and reflexively, she pushed eagerly against his tongue. He nibbled it with his teeth, then suckled, teasing it until it throbbed between his lips. She moaned, and her eyelids fluttered open.

“Mm, Buck?”

“It’s all right, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.” Shifting his position, he toyed with the opposite breast, lapping at the nipple until it, too, stood at attention.

This time, her eyes opened wide. She grinned at him, and, arching her back, pressed her breast deeply into his mouth.

“I want you again,” he whispered.

”Mm-hm,” she mewed a dreamy sigh.

*****

To enjoy more of Sahalie Blue’s writing talents, check out

A Sterling Maid For You (from Amazon) and

Love Under the Violet Crown (also from Amazon, FREE with Kindle Unlimited).

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*****

November 22, 2017

I bet the routine readers of this page are wondering, ‘when I am ever going to finish this book.’ Well, it is finally done and will be submitted to Blushing Books any day now. So, as this book drifts off the Work-In-Progress list, here is a parting shot.

Arsenic and the Socialite is a murder mystery and the fifth adventure for my Victorian Lady Detective. In this snippet, our socialite is bent over the arm of the couch receiving the business end of a paddle. Her former lover had confronted her fiancé…

Excerpt:

Bill resumed the punishment. However, her mind had drifted. She was no longer feeling the swats, painful as they were. She was concentrating on exactly how she was going to get the letters back from Emile. Despite his threats, she knew that she could not allow Bill to encounter Emile. He would show Bill the letters, thus exposing her infidelity.

Even if she was successful at keeping the men apart, Emile could appear at her wedding. When the priest asked the congregation if anyone had a reason why they could not be married, Emile could stand and profess that she was already his wife in deed and intent. Following this, not only would Bill not marry her, but her father would disown her. With her reputation shattered, she would be forced to marry only Emile.

She plotted a means to trick Emile into destroying the letters.

That night, while lying on her belly to keep the pressure off her bruised bottom, she wrote another letter to Emile. She claimed to have broken off the wedding, and desired to resume meeting him by her window. She wrote, “Believe nothing till I tell you, sweet one of my heart. I love you, and you only.” She agreed to go to his apartment to be with him. She intended to sacrifice her sex to Emile one more time, in exchange for him burning the letters.

*****

While Lady Rowan’s adventures are in a series, each book is independent. Chose one to your liking and enjoy. I’ll give you the links for the first one at:

Blushing Books

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

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*****

November 8, 2017

Arsenic and the Socialite

For the fans of my Lady Detective series, yes—there is a fifth book nearing completion. The final chapters are with my faithful beta reader. Lady Rowan is in Scotland, on the scene of a new murder investigation (see Margaret Learns Her Lesson for the beginning of the sequence).  In this clip, she and her BF Henry are resting after a long hard day of searching for clues…

*****

Withdrawing his lips from hers, he rolled her onto her back. She opened her thighs, and he crawled on top of her. Supporting himself with his arms, he hovered over her. His member touched her lady bits.

“Darling…” she whined when he did not enter her. She flexed her hips to rub her hot slit along his tip.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ve been ready all day,” she whispered.

Shifting his weight to his left arm, he used his right hand to open her folds and guide his hard cock inside her channel. Margaret moaned as he stretched her.

“This is my pussy,” he declared. “Do you want my cock in my pussy?”

“Yes, yes,” she whimpered. She lifted her knees and thrust her hips higher.

He met her thrust with his own. Slowly, he pumped his tool deeper. With some experimentation, he found a rhythm that did not cause the bedsprings to squeak. She wanted him to pump harder and faster, but she knew that he wanted to keep their union a secret.

*****

While Lady Rowan’s adventures are in a series, each book is independent. Chose one to your liking and enjoy. I’ll give you the links for the first one at:

Blushing Books

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Don’t forget to click the link below to enjoy the other WIP-IT-UP blogs:

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*****

November 1, 2017

This week I’m gonna cheat. This is not a work-in-progress, just a shameless plug. In this book, The Girl in the Riv, detectives Bill Robertson and Danny Jones are investigating a murder in the Las Vegas Riviera Hotel (aka The Riv)…

Excerpt:

Danny and I donned latex gloves and stepped past him into the room.

The door was propped open on the left, and a yellow evidence marker was on the right. Danny entered the room, but I stooped down to examine the bent piece of metal beside the marker. It took me a moment to recognize it as part of the door’s fold-over security bar. I stood and examined the matching part still attached to the door frame. The bright, angular separation of the metal convinced me that it had not broken, but had been cut.

“Bill, look at this,” Danny called to me.

Coming up beside him, I stared at the dead man on the bed.

Two other uniformed officers stood, staring down at the nude, middle aged man lying face up on the bed. He was wearing only a condom. His second most obvious feature was the dark bullet hole in the center of his forehead. A bloom of red blood stained the pillow, framing his face as his eyes remained open—his unblinking gaze glued to the ceiling.

“The room is rented to Steven Blackwell of Los Alamos, New Mexico,” one of the two uniformed officers said. “There is nothing here belonging to the man. There is a pile of women’s clothing by the window.” He pointed. “There’s nothing else in the room. No suitcase or briefcase—nothing.”

“You were the first officer on the scene?” I asked.

“Yes. The maid found him at nine this morning. Supposedly, he checked out a little after eight. I was across the street at the diner when I got the call. I was here at 9:30.”

I checked my watch and noted the time, 10:03 a.m., in my notebook. Mr. Blackwell checked out all right, but judging from the rigor mortis, it was much earlier than eight.

“And?”

“Davis and Randall,” he indicated the other two uniformed officers, “arrived at 9:45.”

“I mean, did you canvass the other rooms?”

“Yes, but they’re all empty. There was a convention in the hotel, and the front desk said that the entire floor was full with conventioneers. However, the convention ended yesterday, and they all checked out early this morning to catch flights back east.”

“So,” Danny sighed, “a hooker shot and robbed him.”

I wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. Poking through the clothing by the window, I found a woman’s little black dress, red bra, and red high-heeled sandals.

“She ran off nude, or in her panties?” I argued. “A woman runs through the hotel wearing only panties, dragging a suitcase. I’d think someone would have noticed.”

“Yes, sir, but management said that there were no reports of a disturbance,” an officer replied.

“It was some kind of international scientific convention. Given the large population of nerds, a topless woman walking the hallways might not have registered as a ‘disturbance’,” the other officer added.

I glared at him. He was trying hard to keep a straight face. While topless showgirls had first graced Las Vegas in 1957, The Riv’s Crazy Girl Revue had been a Vegas icon since 1987. The topless performers strolled through the casino after the show finished. In this hotel, topless women were commonplace, and this girl could have been mistaken for one of the entertainers.

“Still,” I said, “she took the time to gather up every scrap of his existence, but didn’t take the time to put her dress back on?”

“Maybe she wore his clothes out, as a disguise,” Danny countered.

I looked at the remains of what had been an overweight man. “She would have to be a mighty big gal to pull that off.”

Danny chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“The broken lock,” I pointed to the evidence marker and the sheared piece of metal by the door, “says someone broke in, killed, and robbed him.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t he kill the girl? Was she in on it?” Danny asked.

“Perhaps, or maybe she escaped and that is why she left her clothes.”

“Why didn’t she go straight to the police?”

“She’s a prostitute and might have been as afraid of the police as she was of the killer,” I said.

Danny grunted and looked at the woman’s clothes on the floor.

*****

The Girl in the Riv is an erotic mystery-spy thriller following the last night of a Las Vegas convention of nuclear scientists. Dr. Steve Jones decides to go out with a bang. He hires Glenda Goodbed to entertain him for his last night—literally.

Homicide detective Bill Robertson suspects prostitute Paige Turner was a witness to the robbery and the murder of the nuclear scientist, but when she vanishes into thin air—nude—he is left with no clues to follow. The investigation points to a terror plot as the motive when a second woman appears as a possible accomplice to the murder, but then all of the clues evaporate.

Rival terrorists battle for possession of the scientist’s secrets and the sexy girls. Who will get them? Who are the good guys? And, just who is the Girl in the Riv?

Buy from: Amazon and a host of ebook sellers via Books3Read.com

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*****

October 25th

Followers of this page will no doubt recall that Sahalie Blue and myself (as Sterling Scott) have a new Western in the mill. In fact, this book has just been accepted for publication by Blushing Books. It will soon appear on Bethany’s Woodshed, for those lucky subscribers, and then in regular distribution. In this story, Polly is a trick rider in a Wild West Show.

In this snippet, Polly has just joined the Wild West Show and is meeting her roommate. She also learns about Texas Jack, or should I say, Spankin’ Jack…

Excerpt:

Polly stowed her carpet bag under the cot and sat down.

“The latrine’s down at the end of the row, if ya need it,” Lulu instructed.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“So, I hear you’re right fancy on a horse.”

“Yes, I am,” Polly answered, making no attempt to conceal her pride.

“Me, I’m good with a gun. Just like my famous Auntie Annie Oakley.” Lulu paused to see what effect the famous name had on her new acquaintance. However, Mr. Beaumont had already informed Polly of the relationship, and she displayed no awe. “She taught me everything she knows,” Lulu continued. “Wait until you see my mirror shots. The crowd loves ’em.”

Lulu, finished painting her toes, began decorating her fingernails.

“But, my auntie’s ladylike behavior didn’t rub off on me. Ain’t no way you’ll find me sittin’ around doing embroidery and needlepoint,” Lulu snorted. “Say, you ever have any problems with a no good, pesky varmint around here —the two-legged kind, that is, let me know. I’ll blow his pecker off.” The sharpshooter laughed heartily. “Seriously, the guys around here are mostly gents. Texas Jack sees to that. So, you don’t have nothin’ to worry about.”

Not knowing what to say, Polly simply replied, “I wasn’t worried.” Relations with men had not entered her mind.

“Well, you do what you’re told, and don’t mess up in the ring, and Jack’ll pretty much leave you alone.” The woman puffed on her fingers to dry the polish.

“Oh, what would he do otherwise?” Polly prodded.

The sharpshooter lifted a hip and rubbed her flank, “Ah, Spankin’ Jack will see you don’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Really? He spanks?”

“Oh yeah, he’ll tan your hide but good. He’s a stickler for perfection.” Lulu reached under her bunk and withdrew a brown bottle. She uncorked it and took a swig. “Unlike Auntie Annie, who hosts tea parties, I’ve got a taste for whiskey. And, Jack don’t like it, ‘cuz when I’m drunk, I can’t see straight. So I miss my targets, the crowd boos and I’m in deep shit.” Lulu took another swig and laughed.

Polly grimaced, but said nothing.

“What the hell, Jack ain’t drawn blood yet, though he’s spanked me hard enough to leave a few bruises. I’ve got a cast iron butt.” She leaned over to slap her bottom, and chortled, “I can take it, but I know I should stop drinkin’.” She sighed and downed another swallow. “Damn, but this is almost as good as Old Grand-Dad.” She hiccuped, and held the bottle out to Polly.

*****

To enjoy more of Sahalie Blue’s writing talents, check out

A Sterling Maid For You (from Amazon) and

Love Under the Violet Crown (also from Amazon, FREE with Kindle Unlimited).

 

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*****

October 18th

A week from now, Undercover With Betty will be available, from Blushing Books. This is a murder mystery, featuring Betty. She is a governess by day, a spanking party hostess by night, and haplessly falls into the crack between murdering mobsters and the police. Both sides thing she is working for them. But, who really has her loyalty?

Forgive me for this unacceptably long post, but I wanted to tell you how it all began…

Excerpt:

Prologue — Four Years Earlier

Say what you will, but I’ve always liked older men.

In the early days of my high school career I dated boys my own age, and a year or two older, but these boys never ignited the spark of desire I had come to expect from reading romance novels. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoyed their attention. However, try as they might, their whiney attempts to seduce their way into my pants were more an annoyance than a turn-on. After a few dates, the boys would discover I had no intention of allowing them to reach first base, much less anywhere more interesting. The pimple-faced, insecure boys stopped calling my phone. Then, rumors circulated through school that I was a girl’s girl. For a while, I wondered if this might be true, but I didn’t get a spark of desire from looking at any of the girls either.

Then, on that fateful day, I learned the truth. I didn’t like boys, I didn’t like girls—I liked men.

On that particular day, the girls’ volleyball team coach had called in sick. The assistant football coach substituted for her. When this man—twice my age—decided to correct my serving form, I felt the aforementioned spark of desire. I felt the electricity I had come to expect from the romance novels.

The man stood behind me. The heat radiated from his body. Confidence oozed from his pores. The manly aroma of his sweat filled my nostrils.

“Now, Betty, try it like this,” he had said.

His muscular left arm circled my diminutive body. His powerful hand cupped mine and together we gripped the ball. Circling my waist, his right hand encompassed mine.

“Make a fist, but keep your thumb down,” he had continued his instructions. The warmth of his breath cascaded down my neck. Goosebumps erupted from my ear down to my shoulder. My skin tingled all the way down to my… well, you know—all the way down there.

The spark of desire ignited a blaze in my—my hoohah.

“Bring your arm straight back.” Still cupping my right fist, he pulled my arm back. My back pressed against his chest. “Now, smack the ball.”

He released me and for a moment I was frozen. Then, with no thought whatsoever, I followed through. My serve flew straight. Gliding high over the net, it hit the gym floor a foot inside the boundary line.

“Excellent,” he had said. “Keep practicing it, just like that.”

He moved on to the next girl in the line, and I cursed that my serve had been so successful. I wanted him to demonstrate—to hold me—a few more times. Reliving the sensations of his touch, I executed another perfect serve. Thinking of his hands stroking mine, I became aware of the puffiness between my thighs and the dampness inside my panties.

I excused myself and ran to the locker room.

From that day forward, two things changed. First, I became the best ball server on the team. All I had to do was conjure the memory of—well, I never did get his first name, but I decided to call him Dick—conjure up the memory of Dick’s arms around me, clear my mind, and smack the ball.

The second thing that changed was I began to pay close attention to the older men in my life. Most of them were teachers at the school. While nothing improper ever happened, I never shied away from an opportunity to talk with them, to bump into them, and—oh, praise the Lord—to have one of these older men touch me. I had dirty fantasies of these men coercing my inexperienced body, melting my willpower away, transforming me into their mindless wanton slave.

At night, I would slip my fingers into my pajama bottoms and dream of being held by a confident, strong, mature man. Plead and resist as I might, he would gently force my legs open to receive his hardness. My body would overrule my mind and I would submit to his dominance. Accepting his intrusion, I would surrender my innocence to him.

And, being a dating pariah afforded some benefits. I had plenty of time to study and my grades skyrocketed. I graduated in the top twenty in my high school class. Also, I had plenty of time to sit in the bookstore reading romance novels. I had begun my reading adventures in the library, but I discovered the bookstore contained a more substantial collection, and a constant stream of new titles. Also, the mall was conveniently located only a few blocks from where I lived. As luck would have it, the bookstore employees didn’t seem to care if I bought the books. They were happy to have me sitting at one of the tables reading, creating a welcoming atmosphere. I didn’t even have to buy a coffee from the barista. Thus, my meager funds were not taxed by my ferocious reading habit. I always ensured I never creased the book spines and I never failed to return the books to their proper shelf locations.

Thus, it was in the bookstore that the second fateful day in my life occurred. Two years, eight months, and four days after I discovered I liked older men, I found my sugar daddy. Or rather, he found me.

“May I sit here?”

The soft, baritone voice drew my consciousness from the pages of the latest romance story. I lifted my eyes to the forty-plus year-old man. He had short but wavy black hair. While not lean, he appeared athletic. Awestruck, I didn’t immediately respond.

“Young lady, this is the only empty seat. Is it taken?” he spoke again, this time a stern tone tainted his words.

“No, sir, it’s not taken.” I straightened in my chair. I pulled my purse to my side of the small, circular table. Glancing around, I saw the coffee area of the bookstore had filled with patrons. Feeling somewhat guilty that I hadn’t made a purchase, I rose to leave.

“No,” commanded the older man, “don’t leave.” His hand extended across the table and his fingers briefly touched the back of my hand as I gathered my books. Reflexively, I settled back into my seat. “That is, it was not my intention to chase you away. May I buy you a coffee?”

I studied his face more closely. I admired the Kirk Douglas cleft in his chin. His soft green eyes relaxed me.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, barely over a whisper.

With the fingers that had grazed my hand, he gestured to the menu posted on the wall behind the counter. “What would you like?”

“Uh, a caramel latte, please.”

Leaving his books and coffee on the table, he approached the counter and ordered my drink. Not waiting for it to be prepared, he returned to the seat opposite mine at the table.

“That’s a very interesting book. Are you enjoying it?” He pointed to the copy of Fifty Shades of Grey under my hand.

This was all I could stand. Having this distinguished, older gentleman sit beside me, having him touch me, and having him buy me a coffee had been far more exciting than anything that had ever happened to me. Adrenaline flooded into my veins. When he noticed the erotic book I was reading, a surge of embarrassment filled me and I jumped up as though bitten by a snake.

I wanted to politely excuse myself, and my jaw worked back and forth to form the words, but I could think of no words to say. Deciding my only choice was to simply run for it, I turned. At that moment, the barista announced, “Andrew.”

“Ah, that is your coffee, or actually, caramel latte,” the man said. My attention returned to his eyes. “Do you mind getting it?”

I nodded and forced my limbs to carry me to the counter. I willed my hand to stop shaking as I carried the hot cup back to the table.

Seeming to ignore his unanswered question about the book, he sipped on his coffee and opened a book of his own to read.

I sipped my beverage. “Thank you, very much for the drink. It’s very good,” I said.

He glanced up and briefly made eye contact. He smiled and returned his attention to his book.

Shifting the erotic book to the side, I opened another.

“I am sorry for embarrassing you… about the book. I should have been more sensitive,” he said, his eyes remained focused on his book.

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been so jumpy. It’s only a book.” I sipped from the steaming cup. “And, to answer your question, it is interesting. Quite different from anything I’ve ever read before.”

“Interesting or exciting?”

“Uh, kinda both, I guess.”

“Hmm, I’m Andrew Turnhill.” He extended his hand across the table.

“Betty Kennedy,” I said, and shook his hand. It was warm and moist, and held mine for heartbeat longer than necessary.

“Tell me, Betty, how old are you?”

Rather indignantly I snapped, “Eighteen. I am certainly old enough to read anything I like.”

“Of course, of course,” he soothed. “Not my meaning at all. Forgive me for being, as the Brits say—cheeky, but you can understand it would be very inappropriate for me to engage a girl in a conversation about BDSM. But, as you are a young woman…” His voice trailed off, seeming to leave me to finish the sentence.

“Indeed, I understand. You’ve read the book?”

“Oh, yes. Quite, ah, interesting.”

I laughed. Our conversation continued to dance around the details of the book for several minutes. We finished our drinks and Andrew purchased another round. As we became comfortable with each other, he asked, “So, Betty, have you ever been spanked?”

While on the face of it, this question appeared to be excessively naughty, but it did merge into the dialogue we had been exchanging.

“No, I’ve never thought about it, actually.”

“Not even by your parents?” Andrew had not intended it, but this question hit a nerve. I looked away and tried to keep the tears from forming. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” He took my hand in his.

Enjoying the comforting touch, I dabbed at a tear and returned my attention to him.

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just the notion of parents is a sore spot with me. You see, I don’t have any.” His other hand extended across the table and he stroked the back of my hand. While he didn’t use words, his eyes asked me to continue. “I never knew my father. It says unknown on my birth certificate. And, my mother abandoned me ten years ago. I live in a foster home.”

“Oh…” He seemed to want to say more, but for once, he was without words. “I see.”

“I’m sorry to be such a buzz-kill.” I squeezed his hand. “It’s nothing. It’s all so far in the past, I hardly remember it.”

“Oh…” he said again, apparently trying to find comforting words. “It is getting rather late—”

“Yes,” I said. Expecting he wanted to extricate himself from the awkward conversation, I stood and gathered my belongings.

“What I mean,” he lightly held my forearm, “is I want to invite you out to dinner. We can eat over there.” He pointed out the window to the upscale Chinese restaurant across the parking lot. “I hear it is quite good.”

“Yes, I would love that. I need to put this back.” I smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” I picked up the erotic book that had occupied our past hour of conversation, and two other romances.

“Put it back? You don’t want to buy it?” The reality of my financial situation dawned on him, and he added, “Let me buy them all for you, please.”

Smiling, I handed him the books. He added my three to the two he had collected. Together, we waded through the checkout line. He held the door for me as we exited the bookstore. He paused for a moment to leave the shopping bag in his Cadillac. Taking my arm, he escorted me to the restaurant.

Over drinks—I had iced tea and he had scotch on the rocks—and dinner, I told him my life story. It wasn’t until much later that I realized he had said very little about himself. I told him about the foster home keeping me on after I turned eighteen and “aged-out” of the system. I told him about graduating at the top of my high school class and getting a university tuition scholarship, but being unable to pay the room and board. I told him about my unsuccessful search for employment.

“It’s the recession,” he said. “After the housing market collapse, there just aren’t any jobs.”

“What is it you do?” I asked, remembering his generosity and his Cadillac.

“I manage a hedge fund, which, interestingly, does very well in a down stock market.”

It was long past dark when we left the restaurant. He held me close as we crossed the parking lot. Pressing the button on his key fob, he unlocked his car.

“May I offer you a ride home?” he asked.

“That would be delightful.” I had no fear he would kidnap and ravish me. He knew there was no possibility of a ransom, and I knew I wanted him to deflower me.

He opened the car door for me, but instead of allowing me to sit down, his hand circled my waist to hold me close. When I turned to look up into his eyes, he lightly kissed me.

“I will gladly take you home, but as you have said, there is not really much of a home there for you. I would prefer to take you to my house instead.” He kissed me again, deeper. I opened my lips and felt his tongue touch mine. Parting our embrace, he pressed his body tightly against mine and whispered, “I think you need a spanking.”

The tingle that began in my lips flowed through my body and settled in my pussy. Dew soaked my panties. I sucked in a breath, but it froze in my throat. I had been imagining this man making love with me, now the vision of being spanked by him surged through my brain.

“I won’t give you more than you can take, but I imagine you can take more of a spanking than you think you can.” His hand caressed my back and drifted to my bottom. He lightly gripped a handful of butt flesh through my jeans.

Thoughts of the spanking and sexual activity the characters had done in the book filled my mind. My pussy shouted a “yes” vote. Did I mention I liked older men?

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll give it a try, but I want a safe word.” I had learned something from the book.

“Of course.” Grinning from ear to ear, he released me and held my hand as I settled into the soft leather seats. I’d never been in such a luxurious car before. I hoped my moisture didn’t leak through my pants and stain the leather seat.

He owned a sprawling split-level house set into a hillside. From the street, it appeared to be a small ranch style home. The top floor was at street level, while the lower floor opened to the backyard, with a built-in swimming pool surrounded by a large, brick patio. Entering the front door, there was a dining room to the right. A short foyer opened to a large room encompassing the living room, kitchen, and breakfast area. The entire back wall was a window overlooking the backyard, with its pool, and empty woods beyond. If he had any neighbors behind the house, they weren’t visible.

“This is beautiful,” I said when he snapped on the backyard flood lights, illuminating the patio and swimming pool.

After a short tour and a glass of ginger ale, he settled me on the couch in the living room. He sat beside me.

“Your safe words are simply: green light, yellow light, and red light. Green for keep it coming, yellow for this is okay, but no harder, and red for ease off. Say red light twice and I’ll stop.” He smiled and brushed a misplaced lock of hair from my face.

He examined my eyes for a moment, to see if I had reservations. I pulled in a deep breath, and he stood me up. He pinned me, facing sideways, between his knees.

The female butt is one big erogenous zone. Women, in general, love to display their bottoms in tight jeans, stretch pants, or bikinis in public. Men are welcome to look, but not to touch. I’ve strutted my stuff through the hallways at school, the mall, wherever, with no concern anyone would ever touch my tushy. Andrew Turnhill placed his hand on my butt. He gave my soft, erotic flesh a light squeeze. Through the fabric of my jeans, I could feel the warmth of his hand.

His free hand reached for the waistband button of my jeans and opened it. For a moment, I thought about complaining as he tugged down the zipper. He eased the snug fabric down to my knees, leaving my panties in place. I kicked off my sandals as he lay me down, across his lap; my bottom positioned front and center. His left hand comfortingly held my lower back in position.

It was such a sensual moment. Laying there, offering him my bottom, I had no idea why a woman would want to be spanked, but I definitely wanted to be touched. Motionless, I surrendered to him.

He began to lightly spank my bottom.

The swats had only the lightest of sting to them. His right hand smacked one half of my derrière, followed by a pause of several seconds, to let the sensation migrate through me. While the sting was light, I felt it with my whole body. As the light pain ebbed, he swatted the other half of my butt. He repeated this in a smooth cadence. Before I was aware of it, my hips began to rock back and forth across his thigh. The vibrations of the spanking worked down, along the folds of my cunny. My rocking hips applied pulsating pressure on my clit as I ground my pubis into his thigh.

The experience was not at all what I expected. It was sexually exciting with alternating pain and pleasure. For whatever reason, I began to giggle.

“Well, young lady, I see you need a stronger hand to get your attention,” he said, in a stern voice.

The next smack was substantially sharper.

“Ouch,” I squealed.

Defensively, my feet came up and he shifted hands. Using his right hand to keep my feet from blocking his access to my rump, he launched a quick volley of sharp swats with his left hand.

“Keep your feet down, if you don’t want me to get rough.”

Groaning, I pushed my feet back down. I curled my toes into the fabric of the couch to hold them in place. He returned to his spanking cadence.

“Oh my, but that…” I lost my thought as my clit swelled, and I ground the little bad girl against his thighbone.

With the vibrations attacking my slit—from both the front and back—my mind wandered. I imagined I had been naughty at school, and Coach Dick was paddling me. The image only heightened my arousal.

I had not said “green light” or even “yellow light”, but Mr. Turnhill dialed up the experience anyway. Quick as a wink, he yanked down my panties. With only the slightest pause in his rhythm, he was suddenly applying his hand to my bare bottom. I imagined my secret lady bits were on full display, but I didn’t care.

“Ow-ow-OW!”

Again, my feet came up. This time, my right hand reached back to cover my ass.

He had been completely prepared for this response. His left hand caught my hand in flight and used it to pin me down on his lap.

“What did Daddy tell you about those feet?” he asked. Not waiting for an answer, his right hand dodged my kicks and planted two very sharp spanks—one to each naked cheek.

“Ow! Ouch!”

Squealing, unable to find any words, I willed my feet to flatten back on to the couch. Daddy? What had he meant by that?

“Ah, much better,” he said, soft and soothing. “This is a good girl spanking, not a punishment.”

At this point, his pattern changed. Following each rather sharp smack, he paused and gently rubbed the sting out. The cadence slowed slightly, but the erotic sensations magnified. The pain merged with the pleasure into one sensation rolling though my body. I bit into my left hand as tears welled up in my eyes. Surrendering control to him released me from my anguish; it was so relaxing, in an odd way. Contrasting with this, I felt an orgasm building. I waited for it; I willed it to wash over me. It would be my first orgasm not caused by my own masturbation.

Though my mouth said, “Ouch-ow-ouch,” with each swat, my brain squealed, Oh, God! Spank. Oh, yes! Spank. Please, more! Spank. I pressed my butt higher, hoping his fingers would graze across my pussy folds. Oh god, I’m going to come, my thoughts screamed.

Just before the dam opened to release the waves of pleasure, he stopped. Did he know I was about to come? Had he intentionally blocked it? I had not said, “red light.”

His left hand released my arm. His right hand began a slow caress, massaging my stinging bottom. I imagined, by now, it was a bright red.

“Well, my little kitten, you have done very well, but I think that is enough for your first spanking.”

I moaned in agony, more from being cheated out of an orgasm than from the pain in my bottom. I considered looking over my shoulder, to see how bright of a shade it was, but instead I settled my head on my folded arms. I relaxed and enjoyed his caress. No one had ever touched my bare bottom before, and I liked it.

He eased my jeans and panties down to my ankles, and opened my knees. His touch slipped down along my slit. His fingers opened the folds of my lady bits and found my sex entrance. As his finger slipped deeper inside, I stopped him.

“No, please, that hurts.” I took a breath. “I’m a virgin.”

“I see.”

His finger backed out, and he massaged the outside of my channel with two of his fingers. While he soaked up my dew, my climax announced that it was once again building. This time, it was coming faster. I prayed he would not cheat me again. I raised my hips to invite him to caress deeper.

His index finger pushed the hood back on my clit, and he began to stroke it. My climax welled up to the bursting point. My hips lifted higher. Like a horny alley cat, I pressed into his hand.

His thumb touched my backdoor hole. I had certainly never been touched there before, not even by a doctor. While I might have thought the experience would be objectionable, it wasn’t. The sensation triggered my orgasm. With the touch of his thumb to my anus, my damn burst to release the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had. My body convulsed. I screamed. The pleasure consumed me.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I sighed.

“You’re welcome, kitten.”

*****

Until this new book becomes available, you can read my other contemporary mystery-romance, Disciplined Date.

Available from:

Blushing Books

Amazon

And a host of other fine ebook retailers

 

As always, don’t forget to click the link below and enjoy the other fine entries in the WIP-IT Wednesday blog roll.

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*****

October 11th

Time is growing short. Undercover With Betty will be out in fourteen days.

You might recall from last week’s excerpt that we left Betty in the clutches of Rocco. She was expecting him to take her to the mob boss Mac. Betty and Mac have some history, and she is planning on slipping under the covers to determine the identity of the “John” and the motive for the assassinations. So, Betty is with Mac and …

Excerpt:

“Betty, your arguments have grown tiresome. Refuse me again, and I shall have to spank you.”

A jolt of electricity shot through my kitty. The memory of his warming hand on my bare bottom, and the stinging swats he had given me back in July vibrated again through my mind. I want him to spank me.

“Sir, you can’t be serious.” He had told me not to say it again.

“Oh, yes, I am.”

He gently pulled my left wrist. I offered no resistance as he draped my torso across his lap. He smacked my bottom. Even through my jeans and panties, I felt the welcome sting on my left cheek. There was no denying it, I wanted a spanking.

“Eeow, please, Sir, I’ve not been a bad girl.” But I did not want him to stop.

He gave another stinging swat to my right cheek. Then two more hard smacks.

“Eeow!” I wondered if Rocco could hear me shriek.

He continued spanking me, alternating cheeks, for maybe twenty swats. I wailed. When I begin to sob in earnest, he stopped. Taking a firm grip on the sore flesh of my left cheek, his fingers pressed into the jean’s fabric ever so close to my kitty. I felt it tingle. My belly clenched and dampened my panty.

“Are you finished with your disobedience?”

“Yes, Sir,” I sniffled.

He continued to hold my bottom, firmly. “There is something you can do.”

This is where it gets dangerous.

He waited for me to respond. “Yes, Sir?”

“I’m giving a small party, and I want you to attend and show off to my friends.”

“Uh, certainly, Sir. I would be pleased to attend your party.” I suspected he wanted me to do more than show off.

Will John be at the party? Is this the information Captain Johnson wants?

He pushed his fingers deeper between my legs. Opening my thighs, he pressed against my crotch. My kitty pulsed with the pressure, even through the thick jean fabric his touch was electric.

“There’s more.”

Of course, he always wanted more. I wondered if he was going to ask for sex.

“Yes, Sir?”

His hand pushed my thighs wider, and his finger caressed my clit. He couldn’t possibly feel my swollen nub through the thick material, but he had his finger dead center, pressing on it. I couldn’t allow him to have sex with me. My moisture oozed from my kitty. No, I can’t do this. Captain Johnson would have to find another way—I wanted out.

“Please, Sir, no. I can’t,” I pleaded and tried to squirm away from his fingers.

“No more bullshit, Betty. Are you going to behave?” He pressed hard against my tender clit. The pain/pleasure stimulation sent undeniable excitement from my kitty through my whole body.

I gasped. “Yes, Sir.”

He pulled his hand away from my kitty and gripped my bottom, squeezing the sore flesh.

What is he going to want?

“Good, tell me about that night with Amber and the gift. Why did you improvise from the script?”

Why is Mac asking about that?

*****

Until this new book becomes available, you can read my other contemporary mystery-romance, Disciplined Date.

Available from:

Blushing Books

Amazon

And a host of other fine ebook retailers

 

As always, don’t forget to click the link below and enjoy the other fine entries in the WIP-IT Wednesday blog roll.

 

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*****

October 4th

Cover reveal! Undercover With Betty is to be published by Blushing Books Oct. 24th and here is the cover. They have done a snazzy job, eh? To confess, this is a re-write of my Betty and the Detective series. I’ve combined the four books into one, to create a smoother story.

In the excerpt below, Betty is diving undercover. While working for the police, she is plotting to meet the underworld boss, Mac. But first, she must get past Rocco…

Excerpt:

As on all previous visits, I arrived at the spa and was warmly greeted. Since I had not requested a specific masseuse, the girl assigned to me was new, at least new to me. She escorted me to a massage room and said, “Ms. Kennedy, please make yourself comfortable, and I will be back in a few minutes.”

I stripped nude and lay on the massage table, waiting for her with a sheet covering my bare body.

I half hoped Mac would appear. I was also half terrified that he would appear. I wondered if he would spank me.

Captain Johnson had given me a burn phone to call him. He had also given me some money. “They will probably give you money as they did before. Document and save it as you did before, and use this money for whatever you need. Don’t carry this phone around. They might search you and if they find it, well, it could be trouble explaining. Use it to call me when you are going to meet with them, and to report back. In an emergency, call me using your regular phone.”

While his team of undercover officers could not keep me under surveillance inside the spa, they were watching the parking lot. “Don’t make any attempt to look for them or signal them except in an emergency,” Captain Johnson had told me.

The new masseuse returned and skillfully completed her task, but I couldn’t relax. At every moment, I expected to open my eyes and see Mac standing before me. However, as the hour-long session ended, nothing happened. She finished and left the room, allowing me to dress. Once fully clothed, I returned to the front desk to pay.

“No, ma’am, there’s no charge. You’re on our VIP list. All charges are already paid.”

This was just as Mac had promised me. While he had not appeared, he would know I had been here. Maybe he would contact me later. I took some bills from my purse and turned to hand a tip to the masseuse, but she also refused.

“Please, ma’am, my gratuity has also been paid. Thank you very much for coming in, and we hope to see you again soon,” she said, with a smile.

“Thank you. Yes, I’ll be back again.” I walked outside into the dimly lit parking lot and approached my car.

“Hello, Betty,” the familiar voice of Rocco penetrated the darkness. I froze in my tracks. The cold voice sent a chill down my spine. This time, I knew he could be a killer.

“Rocco, I guess it’s not really a surprise to bump into you here. Proves the old adage—no such thing as a free massage.” I comically shrugged my shoulders and tried to sound light and jocular.

My whole purpose for being here was to attract his or Mac’s attention. Now that I had it, my spine turned to jelly. His attention terrified me as I knew this meeting could be fatal.

Surprisingly, Rocco was chuckling. He held out his hand and, as had been our habit, I put my car keys into it. He did not want to chance that I would run away. He held out his other hand, and I passed over my purse. He dropped the keys into it.

“So, this is serious.” While Rocco had always taken my car keys, the only time he confiscated my purse had been when he had taken me on the unwelcome car trip to meet John.

Under Rocco’s stare, I began to think that this adventure was a bad idea. I willed my eyes to focus on his face, and not search the parking lot for Captain Johnson’s men.

Would they be able to follow us if Rocco forced me into his car?

He smacked his gum. “Not so much,” he responded to my comment, “just a precaution. Your jacket too, please.”

I removed my jacket and the cool autumn air, combined with the anticipation of what was to come, caused my nipples to harden under my bra. He moved closer and took the jacket from my hand.

“Betty, it’s great to see you again. I’ve missed you. Life’s been so dull,” he said, as though we were old friends.

“Dull, how so?” I asked and shivered.

“Oh, you’re fun to have around. Something, ah, interesting always happens when you’re around. I’ve missed you,” he repeated. I had been nude the first time he saw me. The last time we were this close I had allowed—had been tricked into allowing—him to feel up my bare breast.

Fortunately, tonight I was wearing substantially more protective clothing. Nonetheless, he made no move to take advantage of my defenseless state.

“Yes, my life has been considerably duller as well,” I said. “And while it is nice to bump into you again, I’m not so sure I miss the, uh, excitement.”

He laughed. With a puff of air, he blew out his gum. My eyes followed to where it bounced on the asphalt; I made a mental note not to step in that direction.

In a serious voice, he said, “Sorry, but I need to check that you’re not wearing a wire.”

Passing my purse and jacket to his left hand, he used his right hand to feel around my bra, my belly, my waist. Turning me around, he frisked my back. Gratefully, Captain Johnson had nixed the idea that I wear a voice recorder or transmitter. Apparently, Rocco didn’t expect that I could hide anything inside my tight jeans. He kindly didn’t take the opportunity to feel more than necessary. Gripping my upper left arm, a bit too tightly, he urged me forward.

“Come on. Mac wants to talk with you. It could be… interesting.”

*****

Until this new book becomes available, you can read my other contemporary mystery-romance, Disciplined Date.

Available from:

Blushing Books

Amazon

And a host of other fine ebook retailers

 

As always, don’t forget to click the link below and enjoy the other fine entries in the WIP-IT Wednesday blog roll.

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*****

September 27th

This week I am returning to Lady Detective Boo 5, Arsenic and the Socialite. I passed a milestone yesterday, I wrote The End. Of course, this was only the end of the first pass through the story. There is still much work to be done. However, my Beta reader is hard at work with Chapter One.

In this excerpt, my socialite has gone horseback riding with a suitor—alone. They have discovered a small cave and are setting off to explore it…

Excerpt:

“Come, let’s walk over.” Bill dismounted and tied his horse to the branch of bush. He held her horse’s head while she dismounted and tied her horse a few paces away.

They walked hand-in-hand through the grass and rocks to the odd shape set into the side of the ravine. The awareness of being isolated—one male with one female—exited her senses. Knowing the Bill could take from her whatever he wanted caused her core to clench. Drawing closer to the hillside, she saw what it was that peaked his interest. The foreboding darkness of the clump of brush was created by a dark crevasse in the rock face of the cliff. Madeleine stared into the small cave.

“Can we go in?” she asked, fully aware this was his intention.

“If you wish.”

Still holding her hand, he pushed the branches aside and led the way. Once engulfed in the darkness, she slipped her fingers from his hand. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her against his warmth. His intention could not be clearer. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she stretched up on the toes and pressed their lips together. This kiss was not the brief exchange they shared in public. This kiss carried a deep passion.

His tongue touched her lips and she parted them. He surged in to take possession of her mouth. Their tongues entwined while his fingers caressed along her spine. Her body relaxed and she melted down as her knees gave way. He held her, slowly lowering her to sit upon a smooth rock, never releasing her lips.

Parting, they each sucked in a deep breath.

“Are you ready for some—excitement?” he asked.

She held his gaze. In the dark shadows, she took up his challenge. “Show me.”

*****

This book is number five in the Lady Detective Series.

You can catch the beginning of Lady Margaret Rowan’s detective adventures with Book One, Margaret Learns Her Lesson.

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*****

September 13th

Something a tad different this week – no sexy stuff. As you recall, Sahalie Blue and I are writing a Western. This is not an old west Western, but a Roaring ‘20s saga. I thought I would show bit of the rodeo action. In this snippet, our rough riding rodeo couple, Buck and Polly, is competing in the Big City. The rodeo has come to Madison Square Garden…

Excerpt:

Buck escorted her to the basement of the Garden. Rowdy had made sure that Evening Star’s coat was shining and polished. Buck embraced her and said, “Baby, knock ’em dead.”

She did a few warm up exercises. Mounting Evening Star, she rode up out of the basement into the arena. A feeling of elation coursed through her veins. As Foghorn announced her, she saluted the judges and waved to the audience. The music started. Polly took a deep breath. She had three minutes to pack in as many exciting and complex moves as she could, and she was ready. Horse and rider would soon become one unit.

She nudged Evening Star into a gallop. For her first trick, she swung under its belly, came up the other side and sat back into the saddle. Next, she hung by one leg upside down off of Evening Star’s side. She laid across the horse’s neck with her hands and feet free, then swiveled to a headstand in the saddle. She turned two quick backward somersaults, coming to land in the saddle.

Winding down her routine, Polly hooked her knees onto Evening Star’s back, bent over backward and hung upside down, while dangling inches from the ground. She stood in the saddle, then jumped off and back onto Evening Star’s back.

Polly had executed each trick with impeccable precision. The crowd cheered as Polly finished her performance. With her feet perfectly balanced and both arms outstretched, she stood upright in the saddle as Evening Star raced at full speed. At that moment, she imagined she was the queen of the world.

She reined in the horse and dismounted. Bowing to the crowd, she breathlessly awaiting the judges’ score. Polly was flushed with pride and filled with love – for her routine, her horse, her husband, her child. For everything in her life.

She closed her eyes, hoping against hope she would see a score of 8.9 or better on the scorecard to finish first. Foghorn bellowed, “Folks that’s a 9.2 for Mrs. Polly Delmar!” She could scarcely believe it.

*****

To enjoy more of Sahalie Blue’s writing talents, check out A Sterling Maid For You (from Amazon) and Love Under the Violet Crown (also from Amazon, FREE with Kindle Unlimited).

 

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*****

September 4th

Followers of this page will remember that Sahalie Blue and I are writing a new Western. Polly is a wife, mother, and rodeo rider. This snippet is what happens when she goes too far and rides a Brahma bull…

Excerpt:

She stubbornly replied, “Like the Colonel said, there really was no danger. I wasn’t afraid. I’ve ridden worse.”

He dug in his heels. “Think about our daughter, she adores you. How would she feel if she lost her mother?” Shaking his head, he added, “No, I forbid you to ride another Brahma bull, ever again. It’s too dangerous.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Honey, I’ve been very fair with you. You do know there aren’t many men that would allow their wives to work at a man’s profession, don’t you? It’s bad enough I get razzed for letting you compete.” Buck got up, and paced around the room. “I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard comments like, ‘Women got no business on a bucking horse’, or, ‘Women should be havin’ babies, not riding broncs’”.

She huffed, “As you know, I’ve heard my share of those comments too!”

“I know. But, do you understand how hard it is for me sometimes, to let the criticism and teasing roll off me? Many of these joes are just itchin’ for a fight, and I have to swallow my pride and walk away.”

Polly’s brow wrinkled in thought. “No, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. Do you want me to quit?”

He sat down, and pulled her into his lap, stroking her cheek. “No. You don’t need to be sorry for wanting to follow your heart’s dream. I believe the Good Lord put us on this earth for a reason, and your reason for being is, to be a champion cowgirl rider. I would never deny you that. But, the issue here, is that you didn’t talk to me – you didn’t trust me. And, for that, I’m going to spank you.”

She looked him straight in the eye, and for a moment, he thought she might fight him. Then, she sighed, “Yes, Buck.”

“Get up. Everything off, you will be bare for this one. You must have known this would happen.”

She stammered, “I…I guess I didn’t think it through.”

“No, you didn’t. Remember when I said your ass is mine? Now, over my knee so I can remind you again.”

“But, what if the Colonel comes back in? He’ll see.”

“Let him. Now, let’s get this over with.”

She removed her fancy split-skirt and bloomers, and Buck pulled her over his lap. He traced his hand along her butt cheek. Polly gasped and jerked as the first hard slap fell. She lay docilely over his muscular thighs, accepting his punishment. Her bottom quivered as he applied swat after swat.

*****

To enjoy more of Sahalie Blue’s writing talents, check out A Sterling Maid For You (from Amazon) and Love Under the Violet Crown (also from Amazon, FREE with Kindle Unlimited).

 

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*****

August 30th

Another month comes to an end.

Riding on the coattails of last week, here is another snippet from Lady Detective Book 5, Arsenic and the Socialite. In this snippet, one of my socialites is motivated to wiggle out of her predicament. As this is a who-done-it, I have left out any spoiler clues…

Excerpt:

He pointed toward the arm of the couch.

“Bend over.”

Slowly, she lowered her hips onto the thinly padded arm of the divan, directing her bottom upward. He lifted her skirt and underskirts to expose her bottom, clad only in her bloomers.

Thank God I have my undergarments on, she mused to herself.

He began the paddling with several stinging swats. These were followed by a barrage of hard whacks. Each one seared her bottom. Making matters worse, he paused between each application of the paddle to ensure that she felt the full ebb of each swat.

Early on, she began crying. She blubbered incoherently that she would never see or write Mr. L’Angelier again.

“Indeed, you will not see him.” He paused his spanking to inject a lecture. “If this man ever harasses you again, I will deal with him. You are my betrothed and he has no business talking with you.”

He resumed the punishment. However, her mind had drifted. Despite his threats, she knew that she could not allow him to encounter Emile. Emile would show him the letters exposing her infidelity. Following this, not only would he not marry her, but her father would disown her. With her reputation shattered, she would be forced to marry Emile.

She was no longer feeling the swats, painful that they were. She was concentrating on exactly how she was going to get the letters back from Emile.

Then a new idea presented itself and she plotted a means to trick Emile into destroying the letters.

*****

This book is number five in the Lady Detective Series.

You can catch the beginning of Lady Margaret Rowan’s detective adventures with Book One, Margaret Learns Her Lesson.

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Blushing Books

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****

 

 

 

August 22nd

This week I made some progress on Lady Detective Book 5, Arsenic and the Socialite. In this snippet, one of my socialites is about to get into a situation. As this is a who-done-it, I have left out any spoiler clues…

Excerpt:

Walking on the rugs, to suppress the clicks of her heels, she approached the bedrooms. The door at the far end of the hall was closed and locked, but his bedroom door was open.

She crossed the threshold and inhaled his scent.

She touched the bedcover, imagining him lying there. Or, better still, the two of them lying together. She thought about sitting on the bed, but decided that would be too invasive.

“What are you doing?”

The voice startled her and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She turned and saw him.

“I was only—”

“Snooping. That’s what you were doing. What were your instructions?”

“You said I was to come upstairs and prepare the tea. Which I did.”

“And now you are snooping.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm.”

She tried to brush past him, to return to the sitting room, but he blocked the door.

“Do you remember the opera? The excitement you felt?”

She looked up into is dark eyes. “Yes.”

“Are you ready to do what I tell you to do, without question?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Good, but we will have to be quiet about it.”

From behind his back, he revealed a rope. It was about as thick as her thumb, but a fist-sized knot was fashioned in its center. He held the knot up to her face.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

She swallowed, and opened her mouth. He pulled down on her jaw, and gently inserted the knot behind her teeth. Turning her around, he tied the ends of the rope behind her head.

“This will keep you from screaming.”

She fainted.

*****

This book is number 5 in the Lady Detective Series.

You can catch the beginning of Lady Margaret Rowan’s detective adventures with Book 1, Margaret Learns Her Lesson.

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Blushing Books

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****

 

August 16th

Sahalie Blue and myself (as Sterling Scott) continue to work on a new Western. In this story, Polly is a trick rider in a Wild West Show. Unfortunately, she falls in with some illicit gamblers. The following snippet is the scene after she is rescued by her boyfriend, Buck. It seems that one of the gamblers wanted her to ‘put-out’ more to earn her share of the ill gotten gains.

Excerpt:

In the morning, Polly did not join Buck in the mess tent like she always did for breakfast. Gathering a handful of toast and two coffee mugs, he went to her tent.

Polly was sitting on her bunk, wearing her pajamas.

“Are you all right?” he asked, still uncertain if she had told him the complete truth about the evening’s events.

“Yes.” She accepted the coffee mug and toast. “Thank you.” She munched on the toast and sipped the warm beverage.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Buck, I’m very sorry for what I did. I should never have allowed… that man to talk me into the bet. It was wrong. And then, to think that it was safe for me to go to his house… alone, well…” She swallowed. “That was just plain and simple stupid, and I can’t forgive myself for doing it.”

“Polly, if nothing happened—”

“It’s not just that. If you hadn’t arrived when you did… Another minute more, and I…I would have been ruined.” She sobbed.

Buck sat beside her and put his arm around her.

He soothed, “But honey, I did arrive in time. Nothing happened.” He decided that would be their story. If Polly was holding a dark secret, he determined he would support her.

“I-I can’t forgive myself.” She looked into his eyes. She inhaled a deep breath. “I want a spanking. I did wrong, and I need to be punished.”

“What?”

“I won’t be able to forgive myself until you spank me.”

“I think you’ve suffered enough.”

“No, I really do need this. And, I want you to use your belt.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Yes, this is a punishment, and it has to hurt.”

She untied the waistband of her pajama bottoms and pushed them down to her knees. She lay across his lap. Her round, alabaster derrière invited his caress. She tolerated his gentle massage for a moment, then wiggled her bottom at him.

“No, Buck, I need a spanking. A real one.”

*****

To enjoy more of Sahalie Blue’s writing talents, check out A Sterling Maid For You (from Amazon) and Love Under the Violet Crown (also from Amazon, FREE with Kindle Unlimited).

 

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*****

August 9th

OK, I’m sure that it must be bad form to use the same book two weeks in a row, but this is what I am working on today. As you recall from last week, my muse has been insisting that I clean up old stories. This erotic-spy-murder-mystery thriller takes place in Las Vegas. While a bit of a spoiler, I’ll tell you that my heroine gets her man, in the end…

Excerpt:

I was unsure exactly how it happened, but we were in our underwear lying on her bed when we finished the second round of beers. However, I didn’t have any intention of giving her any money—to help with her rent.

She didn’t hint that I should give her money.

She rolled me onto my back, and mounted me, cowgirl style. My bulging hard-on was snug between her thighs, pressing against the cotton crotch fabric of her panties. Her mouth joined with mine, and our tongues silently danced.

I unhooked her bra. She let it fall away and leaned down until the tip of her breast grazed my lips. I sucked on her hard nipple. Her thighs pumped against my firm member. It found its own way through my boxer’s fly opening. After several more minutes of kissing and petting, she climbed up from the bed. I watched as she slid off her panties. From the drawer of the bedside table, she retrieved a condom. She tore open the package. She put the rolled latex in her mouth.

I had never been with a professional girl before. While Mary might only be a semi-pro, she was very experienced. My brain was not sure what to think about what was happening, but it was irrelevant. My cock was taking the lead.

Tugging on my shorts, she pulled them down to my ankles. With a yank, she tossed them on the floor. Kneeling between my legs, she hovered her face over my skyward-pointing johnson. She kissed the tip, tasting my precum. Her lips opened and engulfed me. Her tongue caressed the sensitive spot under the tip. I was completely unaware of how she unrolled the condom onto my shaft, but there it was.

She really knew what she was doing. I could see why men paid for her attention.

She slowly sucked for a minute, then said, “I know it’s, oh, so old fashioned, but missionary is still my favorite.” She crawled up beside me.

“Hmm,” I sighed. I rolled on top of her.

*****

The Girl in the Riv is currently on sale for 99 cents. If you happen to buy it now, you will automatically get the updated version, at no additional charge, when it becomes available.

Available from Amazon.

 

 

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*****

August 2nd

 

How about something entirely different this week, eh? My muse is on a kick lately; she wants to update my old books. The Girl in the Riv was one of my earliest books and I am now updating it. This erotic-spy-murder-mystery thriller takes place in Las Vegas and feature may of my personal experiences. {not the murder part}  In this excerpt, our heroine is caught in the middle…

Excerpt:

Friday, 1:01 a.m.

There had been no warning. Only a sharp crack before the hotel room door swung open. From my cowgirl position, I had reached for my gun, but too quickly the first man’s strong hand seized my shoulder from behind. He had shoved me down onto the bed. A second man stood at the foot of the bed with his arm outstretched, holding a black pistol. Immediately, a puff of smoke escaped the silencer extending from the pistol’s barrel. The third man had retrieved the ejected casing. Then, Mr. Jones was dead.

It happened just that fast.

The second man climbed on the bed. He checked that Steve was indeed dead, then he pressed the warm muzzle of the recently fired gun to my forehead. The first man leaned into my face. His eyes were a deep brown. On the outside corner of his right eye was a distinctive fishhook-shaped vein.

“If you want to live, stay silent and do as you are told,” he said.

*****

The Girl in the Riv is currently on sale for 99 cents. If you happen to buy it now, you will automatically get the updated version, at no additional charge, when it becomes available.

Available from Amazon.

 

 

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*****

July 19th

This week I want to share more of the Western and Sahalie Blue and I are writing. In the developing work, Buck and Polly have snuck into the tent used to store supplies. As you might expect, they intend to take full advantage of a rare moment alone …

Excerpt:

She looked into his face. Moonlight filtered through the canvas and revealed the twinkle in his eyes. She could see that he had caught the true, flirty meaning of her words. “You’ve never told me why,” She continued, though she had heard from Texas Jack exactly why Buck never used his given name.

“It’s my pa’s name. I was teased a lot as a kid, so I picked the name ‘Buck’ for myself.” In the darkness, he shook his finger at her. He traced the tip of his finger across her lips. “You little monkey, you’d better be careful.”

“Why?” Polly giggled.

“Mm, naughty girls who tease wind up over knees. You should know that by now, Mathilda Agnes.”

Polly snorted. “That, I do, Mr. Delmar, but you know I don’t much like my given name either.”

“Then that is something we have in common.” Buck stood over her and wedged his foot between hers. Gently easing her feet apart, he opened her legs. He pushed the hem of her skirt up to her thighs and positioned his body between her legs. Gently taking her face in his hands, he said, “You have such a pretty little mouth, and soft brown eyes, like liquid chocolate. Mm, I love you,” he murmured, kissing her again.

Tightening her arms around his neck, Polly moaned as the tip of his tongue touched hers.

Parting for another breath, she whispered, “I love you too, Buck.” Snuggling against his neck, she giggled before once again whispering, “Ah, Ferguson.”

In the dim, moonlit storage tent, he cupped her face.

“You most definitely are a naughty girl,” he teased. Chuckling, he pulled her down from atop her perch and tossed her over his shoulder as he might carry a sack of feed. Taking her to the nearest hay bale, he sat down and plopped her over his lap.

He lifted her skirt, long gone were the days that she had been embarrassed to have him expose her. He began the application of his beefy palm to her bloomer-clad backside. His swats were steady and consistent in rhythm, not too hard, but yet firm enough to create a burning sting. He alternated between her left and right cheeks, working his hand from top to bottom. She squirmed, but did not cry. She had asked for the spanking when she had used his real name. It was, in her way, a code-word. Polly felt safe over his lap, submitting to his control. Her body slumped as she let go of her worries and relinquished all her cares to him.

*****

To enjoy more of Sahalie Blue’s writing talents, check out A Sterling Maid For You (from Amazon) and Love Under the Violet Crown (also from Amazon, FREE with Kindle Unlimited).

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*****

July 12th

This Work-In-Progress Wednesday I want to continue with my nearly completed re-write of the Betty and the Detective series. This new version, Undercover with Betty, is in the lap of my beta reader, so I am anxiously awaiting her comments. However, let’s take a look at my heroine – Betty.

Betty, employed as a governess for the O’Kelly family, is a submissive searching for the perfect Dom. In this excerpt, she is on her third date with Dan. Unbeknownst to her, Dan is a mob lawyer. {This becomes important later in the story.}

So, let’s join them as they celebrate their third date in the traditional fashion…

Excerpt:

I listened to his soft breaths for about an hour. Sensing that the time was right, my fingers began to feathery touch his flaccid cock and balls. As he swelled, I stroked him with more direct caresses until he was hard, once again. With this nocturnal erection, I woke him with soft kisses to his lips.

When his eyes opened, I gripped his erection more firmly, and whispered, “I want you inside me.” Rolling onto my back, I reached for the unwrapped condom and handed it to him. I watched as he rolled it onto himself, and then he rolled onto me.

This time, he was much more relaxed and attentive. While his need for release built much more slowly, mine still would not come at all. My dam would not fill. Yet again, I could have no orgasm. Again I felt his spasms inside my kitty, and again his body continued to urge me onward. As I felt his erection wane inside me, I faked an orgasm with moans and a tight grip of my pelvic muscles on his stiffy.

In a panting breath, I whispered, “Oh my God—yes,” into his ear, stiffened my body, and then slumped.

He relaxed and nuzzled my breast while I caressed my fingers through his hair. He meant well; he wanted so badly to please me. I was sure that I could teach him, or rather guide his voyage of discovery until he could give me orgasms too. What I needed was a spanking. He had shown no interest in anything kinky. I rehearsed the line, I’ve been so naughty. I should be spanked, in my mind, but I was afraid to point blank tell him of my need.

*****

Now, I could point you off to read the Betty and the Detective books (available from Amazon). Rather, I think I will direct your attention elsewhere, but I’ll make sure you know when Undercover with Betty is available. Disciplined Date is a similar and perhaps better written story and is available from:

Blushing Books

Amazon

And a host of other fine ebook retailers

 

As always, don’t forget to click the link below and enjoy the other fine entries in the WIP-IT Wednesday blog roll.

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*****

 

June 28th

This week I am returning to Book 5 of the Lady Detective Series: Arsenic and the Socialite. In this story, Madeline is engaged to one man when her head is turned by another. You will have to wait to learn how she solves this problem. But, for now, you can enjoy this scene. Madeline is learning the ways of—amore …

Excerpt:

He tugged briefly, attempting to free his hand from the grip of her thighs.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

She could not force words from her mouth, but she shook her head—no. She eased her legs apart, to release the pressure on his hand, and pushed her hips higher. She wanted him to touch that spot again, but he didn’t.

Emile gently removed his hand and stood up. With her dress pushed to the tops of her thighs, he looked down on her nakedness.

She watched as he opened his trousers. She saw his manhood extend through the opening. Hoping that he would not violate her, she wrapped her arms around him as he lay atop her.

“Hold your legs together,” he commanded. “I won’t harm you.”

If he did intend to take her, she would not resist.

*****

This book is number 5 in the Lady Detective Series.

You can catch the beginning of Lady Margaret Rowan’s detective adventures with Book 1, Margaret Learns Her Lesson.

Amazon

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****

June 21st

This week I want to return to the Western and Sahalie Blue and I are writing. In the developing work, Buck and Texas Jack have apprehended a young woman thief – red handed. As you might expect, they intended to take her to the sheriff, but other ideas developed…

Excerpt:

Buck sat on the bed. “If you are not across my lap after 15 seconds, we will haul you to the sheriff. We are done with your stalling. It’s a spanking right now, or off to jail.”

Hilda reached for Buck’s hand, and he helped her to her feet. She drug her feet the two steps. Her hands flew to her face, to hold back a fresh waterfall of tears.

The veins on Buck’s neck stood out. “Hilda, give me your hairbrush.”

She whined, “It’s packed.”

Buck glanced out the door. “Which suitcase?”

“Here,” a matronly woman appeared in the doorway, “use mine.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry, I was in the room next door and couldn’t help hearing your exchange. I couldn’t agree more, with your choice of punishment. This bratty hussy has been quite an annoyance in this hotel. I’m sure there isn’t a person here that would not like to add their own swats to her backside. I will be happy to render my instrument.”

Walked in and closed the door. She handed Buck a hairbrush.

Buck examined the palm-sized, oval implement. On one side were the standard bristles, but the backside was a dark hardwood. A sculpted design of cupid, carved into the surface, would leave a noticeable imprint on Hilda’s bottom.

Pinning Hilda to his lap, he planted several testing swats. He wanted the punishment to hurt, and hurt badly to instill the need for a change in her mind, but he didn’t want to be brutal. While she continued to cry, he sensed that there was minimal pain penetrating her skirt and layers of petticoats. However, rudely exposing her seemed inappropriate.

“Excuse me, sir. I can see that you are not very experienced with this. If I could be so bold as to suggest the none of your intention is penetrating those layers of fabric.” The matronly woman had detected Buck’s concern. “Would you like me to do it? I’ve raised five children, I know how.”

Buck nodded and handed the hairbrush to her.

“Now, up with the skirts, dearie.”

Hilda threw her arms back in an attempt to block the woman from exposing her backside. Buck caught her hands and held them pinned behind her back. The woman lifted the skirt and two layers of petticoats. Buck looked down at Hilda’s white stockings. His eyes followed her shapely legs from her ankles to her knees. At her knees, the stockings disappeared under her bloomers. The woman pulled the fabric of Hilda’s thin cotton bloomers tight across her bottom. Buck felt his cock swell as he admired the twin globes.

“Keep your arm across her back to hold her down,” she said, bunching the excess fabric under Buck’s arm. The woman steadied her left hand on Buck’s shoulder and leaned over Hilda’s exposed derrière. Raising her right arm, she brought the wooden side of the hairbrush down with a whoosh.

Hilda screamed and bucked like a bronc.

The woman had used considerably more force than Buck had used. As she drew back for a second swat, Buck saw the imprint of Cupid pressed into the cotton fabric. His cock twitched, thinking about what the bruise on Hilda’s butt must look like.

Whack – Whack – Whack, the woman expertly applied the hairbrush, alternating between Hilda’s twin, round butt cheeks. Buck had to wrap his leg around Hilda’s knees to keep her legs from kicking. She continued to buck like no bronc Buck had ever ridden.

“Hold still, lassie,” the woman said, between smacks. “If you continue to thrash about, I’ll only smack yer ass harder.” She proved her point with two very hard swats.

Buck saw the red bloom of Hilda’s flesh through the thin bloomers. Hilda did subdue her resistance, but her thrashing across his lap excited his cock to erection. However, it was not Hilda’s reaction that so fully stimulated Buck. In his mind’s eye, he saw Polly. He had twice spanked Polly, but both times her skirt had remained in place. As he watched Hilda’s punishment, he imagined that it was Polly’s backside shamelessly displayed. His cock twitched, wishing it was Polly’s bottom that was so nearly bare, turning crimson over his lap.

*****

To enjoy more of Sahalie Blue’s writing talents, check out A Sterling Maid For You (from Amazon) and Love Under the Violet Crown (also from Amazon, FREE with Kindle Unlimited).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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*****

June 14th

 

This WIP-IT Wednesday I want to stray from promoting a work of my own. I want to take a moment to celebrate the life of a lost colleague.  Rollin Hand / Jordan St. John had been an inspiration to me when I, as a male writing female erotica, began my career.  I had the good fortune to meet him, and over beers we discovered how much we had in common. I will miss him.

To complete this celebration, I chose an excerpt from his Uncle Henry and His Girls. Here, Libby is watching as Amanda receives some of Henry’s discipline…

Excerpt:

Henry neither hurried nor dallied. He laid on the strokes one by one and slowly, a long pause between each to allow Amanda reposition herself to Henry’s liking.

“Dip your back lower Amanda, and present your posterior properly,” he said, tapping her impatiently with the rod.

Amanda obeyed, thrusting her curvy bottom out in a lewd display, daring Henry to strike it. But strike it he did, and she hissed and shuffled her feet in response, sometimes rising up, sometimes bowing her torso as if hugging the couch’s roll top arm.

The sharp whuicking sounds of the switches made Libby wince. This had to sting ferociously. All the same, with each swishy stroke Amanda waggled her bottom like a hootchie-coo dancer in a wanton display, as if the strokes from the rod were the caresses of a lover and not the infliction of punishment. I seemed to be getting to Henry. A light sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. Libby’s eyes dropped to his crotch. Yes. There. She could see the man’s erection straining against the front of his slacks.

*****

 

Unfortunately, I can’t find this title for sale anywhere. However, I encourage you to visit his Amazon author pages and select a title. I’m sure you will enjoy his brand of entertaining writing.

Rollin Hand

Jordan St. John

 

 

 

 

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*****

June 7th

It’s been a few years, but the four books of my Betty and the Detective series were my first writing efforts. These were published by Blushing Books, but have not sold well. I’ll blame it on my convoluted timeline, twisted characters, extraneous side plots, and the poor skill of a fledgling writer. IMHO, I’ve greatly improved since then, though I still pale next to some of the great writers in this social network circle (you know who you are).

Thus, I’ve undertaken a task to combine the four failing books into one with a straight timeline and less confusion. There isn’t a title for this, but it may be same one. There is, however, a new opening and this is an excerpt from when Betty meets Daddy and gets her first spanking…

Excerpt:

His free hand reached for the waistband button of my jeans and opened it. For a moment, I thought about complaining as he tugged down the zipper. He eased the snug fabric down to my knees, leaving my panties in place. I kicked off my sandals as he lay me down, across his lap; my bottom positioned front and center. His left hand comfortingly held my lower back in position.

It was such a sensual moment. Laying there, offering him my bottom, I had no idea why a woman would want to be spanked, but I definitely wanted to be touched. Motionless, I surrendered to him.

He began to lightly spank my bottom.

The swats had only the lightest of sting to them. His right hand smacked one half of my derrière followed by a pause of several seconds while the sensation migrated through me. While the sting was light, I felt it with my whole body. As the light pain ebbed, he swatted the other half of my butt. He repeated this in a smooth cadence. Before I was aware of it, my hips began to rock back and forth across his thigh. The vibrations of the spanking worked down, along the folds of my cunny. My rocking hips applied pulsating pressure on my clit as I ground my pubis into his thigh.

The experience was not at all what I expected. It was sexually exciting with alternating pain and pleasure. For whatever reason, I began to giggle.

*****

Now, I could point you off to read the Betty and the Detective books (available from Amazon). Rather, I think I will direct your attention elsewhere, but I’ll make sure you know when the new version of Betty and the Detective is available. Disciplined Date is a similar and perhaps better written story and is available from:

Blushing Books

Amazon

And a host of other fine ebook retailers

 

As always, don’t forget to click the link below and enjoy the other fine entries in the WIP-IT Wednesday blog roll.

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*****

May 31st

Ah, a special treat for you this WIP-IT Wednesday. I’m sure you all remember Sahalie Blue, my co-author for A Sterling Maid for You and Love Under the Violet Crown. Well, she is working on a new book – a Western. Yes, that is exciting. She says that she wants me to once again co-author with her, but I’ve been occupied and have not contributed much to date. So we’ll see. Anyway, here I have an excerpt from this yet to be titled work. A young lady and her older sister have just been caught by the local sheriff. It seems they have violated some odd dress codes in Valentine, Nebraska…

Excerpt:

Snaring Hannah by the arm, he marched her across the street to the old wooden jail. Polly thought for a moment about taking their purchase and high-tailing back to the fair. But the sheriff had specifically said she was to follow. Not wanting to run afoul of the law, she trailed behind. Once inside, he plopped down on his chair behind his desk. He motioned for Hannah and Polly to sit, facing him. Polly had never been inside the jailhouse before. She studied the wanted posters.

The sheriff ran his hands over his face. “How is it your pa lets you girls run around wearing pants? That kinda outfit isn’t respectable for pretty young ladies to wear. Miss Hannah, I hope when you git married your husband-to-be puts his foot down. Ya look like cowboys when ya should be wearing long riding skirts. Or better yet, come ta town in a wagon wearing them floor-length hoop dresses with corsets, or whatever it is that proper young ladies wear.” He blushed slightly.

“Sheriff, these aren’t pants. They are split skirts,” Hannah argued. “Polly and I made them ourselves.” Hannah proudly lifted her noise into the air. “We cut our skirts up the middle and sewed them together to make divided legs. Besides, Polly and I were in riding contests at the fair this morning. It was simply more practical to wear the split-skirts than full ones,” she sniffed. “And anyway, there is no law saying women can’t wear pants if they want to, is there?”

“Well no, but, it ‘taint proper, and in my town, I want you gals to look like a gal and not a man.”

“There is nothing improper about them. The suffragist Miss Lucy Stone wore them 60 years ago and the lady ranchers wear them too. It is 1916, after all.” Hannah had apparently anticipated this argument and was prepared.

He shook his finger at her. “Don’t be insultin’. I know what year this is.” The sheriff spat.

“Lucy Stone. Now there is one busy-body you best not mention hereabouts. The church don’t allow pants, and I don’t allow pants.” He pinched off a piece of tobacco and stuffed it in his mouth. “Hannah, I warned ya that if I caught ya wearin’ one of those pant, skirt – things – to town again, I’d spank your butt.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Sheriff Sprague, I think it’s ridiculous that I can’t wear pants just because I’m a woman.” Hannah’s words spoke of self-righteous determination, but Polly sensed that her confidence had faded.

He got out of his chair and reached for Hannah’s arm. “Humph. Come with me, young lady.”

With a sudden need to defend her sister’s honor—and her bottom—Polly spoke up. “Sheriff, she meant no disrespect. It can be dangerous to ride with a long, bulky skirt. Our cousin got the fabric caught up in her stirrup and she got dragged beneath her horse. Surely you can see that.”

He didn’t reply; apparently, to his way of thinking, there was no acceptable excuse that could be made. Polly followed him as he led Hannah down a hallway lined with the empty jail cells. He directed her inside one.

“Sheriff, please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” Hannah pleaded one more time.

“Now you git yerself in there. Kneel down, and bend over that there cot.”

Hannah knelt on the stone floor and turned back to look questioningly at the man.

“Butt-side up, girl. Don’t make me say it again.”

Polly watched as her sister lay over the narrow cot. She gritted her teeth as though it was her own backside in jeopardy. The sheriff rolled up his sleeve, bent down and began firmly swatting Hannah’s bottom with his palm.

“Ow!”

“I’m just getting’ started,” he said sternly, pelting the young woman with hard, fast swats as he lectured.

“It’s a disgrace to see females dressed in trousers. It’s an offense to the very fabric of civilization.”

*****

To enjoy more of Sahalie Blue’s writing talents, check out A Sterling Maid For You (from Amazon) and Love Under the Violet Crown (also from Amazon, but FREE with Kindle Unlimited).

 

 

 

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*****

May 23rd

It is finally here! Raise-the-Roof! Love Under the Violet Crown has been released. This adventurous combination of sex, spanking, science fiction, history, and romance was penned by myself (Sterling Scott) and Sahalie Blue. Here is a tease:

Excerpt:

“Ah-tend-hut,” a lieutenant on the deck sang out and snapped erect.

Being a civilian, Julie hung back while the Space Service personnel stepped up to the Officer of the Deck. He wore the red jumpsuit of a marine. Julie’s previous assignment had been on a military starship and its crew were protected by the marines. However, she had not been expecting to see them aboard this purely scientific mission. His jumpsuit was standard issue, and he wore a navy-blue sash from his left shoulder to his right hip. His personal information was affixed to the material. Julie recognized the single gold bar of a first lieutenant. He had only a few campaign ribbons identifying the battles that he had survived.

One by one the new Space Service personnel saluted and stated their business. While she waited for her turn, she took the opportunity to examine the marine’s physique. He was not very tall, only half a foot greater than her own five-foot, two-inches. However, he was stocky with thick thigh and arm muscles bulging under the skintight jumpsuit. She tried to keep her eyes averted from looking at, what she imagined to be, an impressive bulge below his waist.

So easy on the eyes, she mused to herself.

His hair was black and cropped very short. His face was smooth and she surmised that he, like so many men, had permanently removed his facial hair. She wondered if he had removed the rest of his body hair as well. She hoped not. She liked hairy men.

On his right hip, he wore the standard issue black blaster. A ceremonial sword—or at least she presumed it was merely ceremonial—hung from his left hip. When her curiosity got the better of her, her eyes drifted to the bulge of his codpiece and she imagined the weapon he had concealed there.

“Julie Patterson, requesting permission to board. I have an appointment to see Dr. Amy Toller,” she said, when her turn to address the young officer arrived.

The marine examined her ID badge, scanned her retina, and inspected her jump-bag. He examined the information on his handheld device. His eyes slowly traced over the curves of her hips, and breasts that stretched the fabric of her sky-blue jumpsuit, the color of civilian scientific personnel. As his gaze traversed the length of her body, Julie blushed as she felt her breasts swell and her nipples peak in response.

There were times that she resented her golden hair and short, curvy figure. These features made it difficult for men to accept her as a scientist. But right now, it didn’t bother her.

“You are to billet on D deck, suite twenty-four. Do you know where that is?” His voice reflected a tenderness not found in his crisp words. Julie sensed a twinge of personal interest and she made a mental note of his name: Hunter. She hoped that he had committed her room assignment and her name to memory, as well.

“Ah, yes indeed, Lieutenant.” Julie did not know the location of her stateroom, but she assumed that this spaceship’s configuration resembled that of her last post. The assignment on D deck implied that she would be working the D shift. The ship’s operating crew was divided among three shifts: A, B, & C, while all of the scientific personnel were on the D, or day shift.

Lt. Hunter presented his handheld device toward her. From her bag, she retrieved hers and touched the corners of the two electronic instruments together. Whatever information he wanted her to have was instantly transferred.

“Thank you,” Julie said.

I wonder what it would be like if he and I touched.

She shook off the thought and examined the holographic image projected by her tablet. She memorized the three dimensional picture providing directions to Professor Toller’s office. She smiled and stepped away from Lt. Hunter, deliberately adding a little wiggle to her walk. After three paces, she turned to see if he was watching her butt. She was pleased to see that he was watching, and smiling to boot.

*****

Yes, I know… you were expecting some spankings or hot sex, but I warned you—this is only a tease. To read the spanking, hot sex scenes you will have to buy the book from Amazon, or get it FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

Enjoy!

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*****

May 9th

May 18th, mark your calendar. Love Under the Violet Crown will be published by Blushing Books. For those who can’t wait, here is a teasing sample from this SciFi romance adventure. Did I mention it has some spanking too? For those who read Love on a Forbidden Planet, I’ll use a snippet containing the stars of that book. However, most of this story utilizes new characters.

In this excerpt, Amy is the leader of the scientific mission, but Mario is the captain of the starship. In the bedroom, they like to mix things up. Here, Amy is over Mario’s knee getting some punishment…

Excerpt:

“Ouch-ouch! I thought you said twelve!”

Mario stopped. He had passed twelve many swats earlier. “Indeed, I did. However, I also said on the bare. You evidently weren’t listening. Too bad for you. You’re not bare so these don’t count.”

“Oh, crikey! You didn’t give me time to get undressed,” she complained. Amy reached her finger under her collar and touched the small metal stud hidden there. Instantly, the taut fabric of her jumpsuit relaxed and seams appeared. Reaching behind her back, she opened the back panel to expose her bare bottom.

Mario admired the effects of his handiwork. He caressed her pink skin as he pushed the seams open wider. He folded the panel down to expose her sit-spots. Not without its own charm, her womanhood and its moist, pink, puffy folds were also presented for his viewing pleasure.

“Mm, very nice.” He began the application of the paddle again. “Count them,” he commanded.

“One. Thank you, Sir, may I have another?”

*****

I’m sure you can guess that Amy does get another… and another…

To catch up on The Passion Quest series, you can pick up Love on a Forbidden Planet from Amazon – FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

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*****

April 26th

My Work-In-Progress is Book 5 of the Lady Detective Series: Arsenic and the Socialite. In this story, Madeline is engaged to one man when her head is turned by another. You will have to wait to learn how she solves this problem. But, for now, you can enjoy this scene. Madeline is being escorted to the opera by William when…

Excerpt:

In the hallway, Mr. Minnoch encountered a business associate. After he introduced Madeline, she became bored with their technical conversation and entered the box alone. Her father had secured the box for the season, but her parents had not joined them. Madeline suspected that they want her to spend time alone with Minnoch. Standing in the center of the four seats, in the shadows, she watched the patrons in the boxes across the theater take their seats.

Suddenly, hands gripped her waist and pulled her a half-step backward into a muscular body. Hot breath cascaded down her neck as her assailant pressed his face against her neck. She wanted to cry out, but the words stuck in her throat. Releasing their hold on her hipbones, the man placed on hand on her throat, slightly pushing her face upward. His other arm encircled her waist and pressed their bodies tightly together.

Madeline needed to scream out, to cry for Mr. Minnoch’s assistance. The hand on her throat was not squeezing, but somehow it held her mute.  Warm lips kissed her neck. Her belly clenched as she imagined what the man intended to do with her.

As if a magic spell had been broken, the hands released her. Dizzy, she spun around and she faced him. A finger under her chin lifted her face.

“Bill!” She sucked in a breath. “You gave me such a fright.”

“Did I?” he asked, with a stern expression. “But you liked it, didn’t you.”

Madeline didn’t answer, but admitted to herself that she had found the momentary fear of being powerless in a stranger’s arms to be exciting.

*****

This book is number 5 in the Lady Detective Series. You can catch the beginning of Lady Margaret Rowan’s detective adventures with Book 1, Margaret Learns Her Lesson.

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*****

April 19th

Love Under the Violet Crown will be published by Blushing Books May 18th. This is the sequel to Love on a Forbidden Planet , which I am sure you have enjoyed already, eh?  The second book is a collaboration between myself (as Sterling Scott) and Sahalie Blue. These two books are Science Fiction stories where future anthropologist seek out and study the habits of alien life. Some of these aliens have pretty interesting habits.

In this adventure, the scientists aboard the Starship Wilhelm have found a planet populated with a Bronze Age culture. Infiltrating the village, Diane and Issak go exploring. Diane gets more than the she expected…

Excerpt:

Diane frowned and rubbed the sting on her bottom away. She started to retort, but thought better of it. Silently, she followed Isaak. When they reached the specified house, they paused only long enough to positively identify it before walking past.

“We have two hours to kill,” Isaak said. “Let’s find someplace to hole up.”

By a different route, they returned to the market square. When they tarried too long in front of a brothel, a naked pornai female prostitute came out and solicited the Isaak.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Diane hissed in his ear.

“We must blend in somehow,” he whispered back, and turned to the prostitute. “I need to teach this slave girl how to give a blow job. Can you do that for me?”

“What? That’s not in the plan!” Diane exclaimed.

“Silence, slave,” Isaak ordered as he slapped her hard on the fanny—twice. Diane’s stared slack-jawed at him as she again rubbed her sore bottom.

He took her aside and admonished her. “Remember, speak only when spoken to. And, keep your voice down. You’ll give us away.”

“Really, Isaak. I could report you to Lt. Hunter, you know.”

He crossed his arms. “Go ahead. I’ll tell him that you almost blew the mission.” He winked at her. “Instead, you can blow me.”

Diane rolled her eyes and bit back a crude retort.

The sex worker displayed no shock by his request. Apparently, the need for such training was not unusual. She glanced at Diane. “Five drachma to teach her. Eight if I have to spank her to get her to comply,” she said.

Diane watched the wave of interest appear on Isaak’s face and realized his plan for her. He grinned as he handed the prostitute several bronze coins.

*****

As you prepare to enjoy this light hearted adventure into the unknown, download Love on a Forbidden Planet to catch up on our space explorers. This is available from Amazon, and FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

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*****

April 12th

My Work-In-Progress is Book 5 of the Lady Detective Series: Arsenic and the Socialite. In this story, my female Victorian detective is investigating a murder in Glasgow, Scotland. Assisting her is her lover Inspector Henry Gaslow. Incidents have separated the lovers and now they are making up for lost time…

Excerpt:

Releasing her, Henry took a step back and sat in a prepositioned straight-back chair. Longing to have her body warmed by his hand, she laid across his lap. He caressed her soft skin for a minute before placing the first swat in the center of her left cheek. The impact had been minimal and Margaret released no sound. She knew that the walls were thin and he had no intention of alerting the other guests as to their activity.

The spanking continued with rapid, soft swats. She wished he would throw caution to the wind and warm her backside in a proper manner, but she knew the wisdom of his action. What he lacked in intensity, he made up for with duration. As Margaret became aroused, the scent of her dew filled the air when he finally stopped. With one hand placed on her tailbone, Henry held her in position while the fingers of his other hand slid along the folds of her lady bits.

Finding her wet, he said, “Ah, so this has not really been a punishment, eh?”

“No, Sir.” Margaret answered. She wiggled her bottom in an effort to drive his fingers deeper into her slit. She craved his touch upon her firm clit.

“Well, then maybe I should refuse to allow you to have pleasure this evening. Would that be a punishment?”

“Oh, please, darling, no. That would be too severe.” She pressed her bottom against his hand, attempting to force his fingers inside her channel.

He allowed two fingers to slip inside, but also pressed his thumb against her backside entrance.

“You do remember how naughty girls are taken?”

“Yes, I remember. But, sweetheart, please don’t. I want your cock in my cunny so very badly. It has been so long.”

*****

This book is number 5 in the Lady Detective Series. You can catch the beginning of Lady Margaret Rowan’s detective adventures with Book 1, Margaret Learns Her Lesson.

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*****

March 29th

My latest collaboration with Sahalie Blue, Love Under the Violet Crown, is a Sci-Fi sequel to Love on a Forbidden Planet. While this book has been accepted by Blushing Books, I suppose that it is technically still a Work-In-Progress.

In this spanking space adventure, Julie has been violating the prime directive — she had been intentionally altering the development of the Bronze Age civilization on Maia-3. In this excerpt, Julie is preparing to return to the Starship Wilhelm, but is having a sleepless night while waiting for the shuttle. Her boyfriend Harold knows just how to cure her insomnia.

Excerpt:

Julie twisted on the mat, unable to still her restless mind so she could sleep. Her team had abandoned Arcadia and returned to the Wilhelm. However, Julie had one last task to complete before leaving Maia-3.

Julie rolled over again.

“You can’t sleep?” Harold asked.

“No.” She sighed. “I can’t seem to turn my mind off.”

“I know how to relax your mind.”

Harold stood, and scooping Julie into his arms, carried her up the hill. The bright moonlight illuminated his way.

“Stop that!” She squirmed in his arms and kicked at the air, though she did not really try to escape. She wanted to experience whatever he had in mind.

When they were high enough up the hillside to see the ocean over the trees, he sat on a rock.

“This is just what the doctor ordered,” he said, as he pulled her across his lap.

“No-no, not out here. Someone will see.” Balanced over his knee, with her butt in the air, she realized what he had in mind.

“Silly girl, it’s dark out, and besides, who cares?” He chuckled and delivered the first swat.

She wiggled on his lap, attempting to twist away from the first of the stinging swats.

“Hold still,” he said. “Or, it will get worse. Take your medicine, young lady.”

Julie surrendered to the familiar rhythm of his hand spanking her bottom. As implied, his swats decreased in intensity. She accepted the mixture of pain and pleasure he so lovingly delivered. She closed her eyes and imagined how the moon-lit scene would appear to someone walking along the road at the base of the hill.

Would they see anything?

Harold had carried her far enough away that a passerby would not see that they were wearing modern jumpsuits instead of the local toga costumes. However, they had changed the color of their suits to a flesh-tone to minimize detection. Thus, a man walking on the road below might think he had been watching a nude woman getting a punishment from her husband. This thought gave the exhibitionist in Julie an extra thrill.

As Harold had instructed, her mind relaxed from the tribulations of the day and focused on the smoldering heat that her ass and swollen lady bits were experiencing. She touched the stud under her collar to relax the jumpsuit’s fabric. She reached behind her back, and opened the panel to grant him access to her bare flesh.

“Ah, I see my wanton woman has changed her mind,” he said, as he pushed the material aside.

*****

This book is still a couple of months away from publication, but Love on a Forbidden Planet is available from Amazon and FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

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*****

March 22nd

Woo-hoo – my muse has returned with loads of new adventures from my Lady Detective and the unfortunate victims of crime in the Victorian Age. Thus, I now have over 25k words drafted for Arsenic and the Socialite. In this excerpt, our socialite’s fiancée is rather perturbed and how the love of his live has been prancing about town with no undergarments. No to mention, her frequent flirtations with other men. Emile has decided to take matters under his own hand. Mimi will certainly be a changed woman…

Excerpt:

“Do you suppose such a naughty girl deserves a spanking?” he asked.

“I… uh—” Mimi, tried to find the words to explain.

“Yes, of course you do see the need to discipline a young lady that prances the streets… bare.”

“Please, Emile—”

“Of course you do. Don’t worry, I will handle this. No one else need know.”

With her wrists still pinned in his strong hand, he pulled to stand beside him. Her dress hem fell to the floor, covering her body. He sat on the divan and positioned her across his lap.

“Please, Emile—”

“Now, Darling, you have been naughty enough for one day. You will get a spanking, but if you don’t take your discipline like a good girl, I will have to spank harder.”

Madeline knew to resist no further. She relaxed across his lap as he pulled her skirt up. This time, he exposed her bare bottom.

She had never been spanked on her bare flesh before. The matrons at the school and her mother had always spanked her through her cotton nightdress. Even when her father used his paddle or his cane, she always had either her bloomers of the nightdress covering her derrière.

Emile placed her bare bottom over his lap. The skin of his palm stuck her naked flesh with a smacking sound that she had never heard before.

“Ouch,” she cried out.

The sting flowed along her taut skin. The vibration tickled her lady bits. He spanked her again and again.

*****

This book is number 5 in the Lady Detective Series. You can catch the beginning of Lady Margaret Rowan’s detective adventures with Book 1, Margaret Learns Her Lesson.

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Blushing Books

 

 

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*****

March 15th

Another week and I still have not written a word for my Work-In-Progress. Somebody is gonna yank my guild card. However, when I do get to it, my WIP is Book 5 in the Lady Detective series, Arsenic and the Socialite. Lady Margaret Rowan attacks this mystery immediately after completion of The Pimlico Affair. Thus, I will post the excerpt leading to this connection.

At this point in the story, Queen Victoria has asked Lady Margaret to assist her cousin, Lord Folkston. His illegitimate daughter has been accused of murder…

Excerpt:

At the conclusion of her meeting with Lord Folkston, Margaret returned to her London home, a two-bedroom flat in the Belgrave Mansions, only a short distance away.

“And, did Her Majesty enjoy your stories of detective adventure?” Henry asked of her as he presented her with a glass of dark red wine. Mrs. Johnson had prepared a roast with assorted vegetables and Henry had already dismissed her for the evening.

“Not precisely. She had a story of her own for me.”

“Ah, tell me. This is beginning to sound like one of your penny dreadfuls.”

Lady Margaret had achieved substantial fame following her singlehanded apprehension of the most notorious gold robbers the world had ever known. Additionally, her prominence grew with the recent series of pamphlets celebrating her exploits. Fictional as they were, the public snapped up the stories of how she captured murders, thieves, and foreign assassins at an apparent monthly pace.

“Sorry, Darling, but I’m sworn to secrecy. When Her Majesty tells you to hold her confidence, you do it.”

He grunted, and then added, “At any rate, I have been called away. I must leave for Scotland, on the last train tonight. A French man has been found dead in Glasgow.”

“Do be careful, Darling. It must be ghastly cold up there.”

She was disappointed that he would soon be leaving. She had been looking forward to another evening behaving as a naughty flirt with his resulting discipline. Wishing to reward him for his excellent cunny kissing of the night before, she slipped from the couch and knelt before him.

Henry sipped his brandy and watched as Margaret opened the buttons of his breeches. By the time his manhood was released, it had swelled. By the time she grasped it in her soft, warm hand, it was rock hard. She said nothing as she parted her lips and leaned forward.

*****

What transpires next between Margaret and her lover will be no surprise. At the conclusion of these events, Henry dashes off for Glasgow. In Arsenic and the Socialite, Lady Rowan is summoned to assist him in this latest murder inquiry. With any luck, this book will be available in early summer.

For now, you can enjoy the rest of The Pimlico Affair, available from Amazon.

 

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*****

March 8th

Well two things on this WIP-IT Wednesday:

First, I still have not written anything new on my Work-In-Progress. Spank my lazy bottom. Second, I want to steal this opportunity to hawk a book that is currently on SALE for $1.99.

In My Pirate Wife, Evelyn has been kidnapped by the pirate John Howell. While she awaits the payment of her ransom, she is forced to service her captor. In this excerpt, they are on a beach…

Excerpt:

Captain Howell called Evelyn away from the ship’s railing. As she approached, he held out a four-foot long piece of rope. “Don’t give me any trouble.”

Evelyn held her hands out and crossed her wrists. He made several loops around her hands and knotted the rope. Holding the long end, he led her to the side of the ship and then lowered her into a boat. She sat silently as he and three other crewmen rowed the boat packed with supplies to the shore.

On the beach, he led her to one of the makeshift tents. He pulled her so close, she had to strain her neck to hold his gaze. “I want you to remember your pledge to me; that you will do what I say. I also want you to remember that your fate is bound to mine,” he said.

Evelyn nodded her understanding.

“However, if it is your inclination to escape,” he pointed to the trees lining the beach, “then do it now while it is still daylight and you can see where you are going.” He began to untie the rope that bound her. “No one will chase after you. However, you must understand that there is no gentleman to chivalrously greet you on the other side of those trees. This land is inhabited only by snakes and other creatures that would kill you. The natives will capture you. They will take several turns abusing you, and then roast and eat you.”

Evelyn flexed her wrists as they came free of the rope. She glanced at the forest. Remembering the stories of native cannibals, she longingly studied the trees a final time, then sat down in the sand. “I know you are lying. There is surely a monastery over there with friars who would take me in.” 61

“Then why are you still here?”

She shrugged. “I don’t want to live in a monastery.” Captain Howell gripped his belly in laughter and sank to his knees beside her. “Besides, I want to trust that you will take me to New Providence and my uncle,” she added.

“Indeed, I will do that.”

Captain Howell then joined the bulk of the crew as they waded out toward the ship. The tide was falling and the grounded ship had already begun to lean toward her port side.  Evelyn studied the men working to clean the ship’s hull. She found Captain Howell waist deep in water, scraping alongside his men. They were shirtless and their muscular chests bore testimony to their prowess.

Captain Howell is indeed taking me to New Providence.

Considering that the men were honorable in their intention to take her to New Providence and Uncle Hank, she resolved to stay with them.

*****

Did I mention that My Pirate Wife is on SALE for $1.99?

It is available from:

Blushing Books

Amazon

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*****

March 1st

Alas, I’ve not been working on my Work-In-Progress lately. I’ve nothing new to show. However, I will entertain you with an excerpt from my “most fun” book. That is to say, Rescuing Diana was a lot of fun to write, and I hope it is a fun read as well. While not intended to be a comedy, one must press one’s tongue to cheek while reading it.

This is categorized as a Steampunk novel. It is set in 1841, but the plot involves a trip to the moon. There is some sex and lots of spankings along the way. However, first Diana is kidnapped by Egyptian pirates. In this segment, she has just been rescued – for the first time. Herbert is explaining how they found her…

Excerpt:

“Ah, yes, unfortunately, your absence was not immediately noticed. The maid discovered your room empty when she came up to dress you. She thought that you had got up early and dressed yourself. Thus, she said nothing. John and I were waiting for you in the morning rd-ad-4room, but when you tarried, we ate breakfast without you, surmising that you were simply sleeping late. It wasn’t for another hour that the footman reported that the lock on the back door had been broken, and a search of the house was made to determine if anything had been stolen. This was when we deduced that you had been kidnapped.”

Diana untied the neckline of her robe and let it fall. When Herbert did not continue his narrative, she turned to see him staring at her— slack-jawed. This was the first he had seen of her slave girl costume. He was studying—no, admiring her—from head to bare toes. She said nothing, but noticed that this was the same admiration for her exposed body that had shown on John’s face. Herbert was clearly remembering that she was not really his sister.

“I see that you do indeed need a change of clothing,” he stammered, and then reflexively smiled before turned his back to her.

“Go on.” Diana appreciated his admiration, also remembering that they were not actually brother and sister.

“Ah-ah, when I entered your bedroom, I smelled a familiar, sweet chemical aroma, and then everything became clear to me.”

Diana quickly stripped away the costume. “What do you mean?” she prodded, when he did not continue. She realized how unembarrassed she was to be nude with Herbert only a few feet away. Only the polite averting of his eyes separated them. Two days ago, this would have been unthinkable. Now, she enjoyed allowing men to admire her body.

What if he were to turn and look at me?

A mere two days as an Arab slave girl had drastically changed her. Before, she would never have dressed with a man in the room; she would never have wished for a man to look upon her body.

*****

fsfdec74This “fun” story was inspired by H. G. Wells’ First Men in the Moon and by Kilgore Trout’s Venus on the Half-Shell. Rescuing Diana can be purchased from:

Blushing Books

Amazon

Barns & Noble

6a00d83451d04569e2014e88df35e5970d-500wi

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*****

February 22nd

A new SciFi adventure is nearing completion. This story, Love Under the Violet Crown, is a sequel to my Love on the Forbidden Planet and is being written with my co-author Sahalie Blue, who joined me in writing A Sterling Maid For You {I’m sure you remember that one}.

In this story, our space explorers are on a mission to transform the primitive, warring population of an alien planet into a peaceful people. This snippet is near the beginning of the story, during the long boring trip through hyperspace. As you might imagine, idle hands find their way into sticky places. Our technologically advance society uses a uses very basic techniques for ship-board discipline – ahmen, spanking. However, they have recently introduced a new twist. Thus is born an instrument known as the Walloping Wilhelm…

Excerpt:

“What?” Julie collapsed into laughter. “’The ‘Walloping Wilhelm’? Surely you can’t be serious?”

When she stopped to catch her breath, she found him staring at her, a bemused expression on his face.

“I am quite serious. Think of this as an experiment. As a test subject, you will be making a serious contribution to science by submitting to our spanking machine.”

Julie protested, “You’re not going to use that-that thing on-on me, are you? You just told me you hate to see a woman cry!”

“I do, but that is when a spanking is for punishment. When I spank a woman for pleasure it is another matter entirely. Indeed, I assure you this spanking is not intended to fully punish you. It is for a test demonstration. Although, I do think you need a few good wallops for your little temper tantrum back there at dinner.”

“I’m sorry, Harold. Really,” she whined.

She tried to pull away, but Harold held her two wrists clasped in his left hand. He led her to the table and helped her onto it. She lay prone on her stomach and placed her neck in the half-circle opening intended to support her head. Once she was settled, a thin plastic-like band snaked out around the back of her neck. She gasped, fearing it would choke her. Instead she found it held her securely without being overly constraining.

Harold positioned her arms to hang over the top edge of the table. The plastic snakes appeared and wrapped themselves around her wrists and upper arms.

“Ugh, I hate these things!”

“Stop complaining. Let’s get this over with.” Harold pressed a button.

Julie heard a faint click; then a slight hissing noise. Her legs lowered automatically and her body was dropped into a reverse “L” shaped angle. Her fanny was positioned right at the edge of the table and her legs were draped over the table’s edge.

Harold stood behind her to make sure her bottom was in its proper place, jutting outward.

“Comfortable?”

“What kind of a dumb question is that?”

“All right, just for that you get two extra strokes.”

Making sure he would not see her, she made a face and a rude hand gesture.

“For this to work, I need to open the back panel of your jumpsuit.”

“Oh, crikey,” she muttered.

“What did you say?”

“I said, yes, Sir.”

*****

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While this book is a ways from being published, you can enjoy the first book, Love on a Forbidden Planet. This is on sale at Amazon, and FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

 

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*****

February 15th

I am returning to work on the fifth book in my Lady Detective series: ,Arsenic and the Socialite. In this excerpt, my detective Lady Rowan has arrived on the scene…

Excerpt:

Margaret stepped from the train to the railroad platform. She studied the faces surrounding her while buttoning her woolen coat against the cold January wind. Glasgow, Scotland was twenty miles inland, but the air off the North Atlantic Ocean presented an icy chill. She saw no gleam of recognition in the faces of the crowd; she had not wished to draw attention to herself.  Satisfied that she had completed her trip from London in clandestine fashion, she walked across the platform to Henry.

“Margaret…” His tone implied that he had left words unsaid. He lightly touched her arm.

A porter stepped up and pressed a knuckle to his brow. “Madam?”

“That one,” Margaret pointed to her trunk. “The green one with the initials M-A- R.”

“Take it to the Hamish Hotel, room forty-six— Mrs. Mary Riddle.” Henry said, and pressed a coin in the porter’s palm. They would keep her identity secret as long as possible.

12963797_990841351031672_4959006202406132516_nAs the servant moved out of earshot, Margaret gripped Henry’s arm and pulled their bodies close. “I trust that means that you are either in room forty-five or forty-seven?” she whispered.

“Forty-five, across the hall.” Henry lifted her chin and lightly kissed her.

His warmth meant much more than a reprieve from the winter wind. It drew her mind to the tingle left on her derrière by his last spanking of her. Her lady parts clenched with the memory of his hard cock inside her folds. Her mind drifted to the lovemaking they would share that night.

*****

studied abroad Angers, France, date taken 02/06/2005

While Lady Rowan’s adventures are in a series, each book is independent. Chose one to your liking and enjoy. I’ll give you the links for the first one, Miss Rowan Learns Her Lesson, at:

Blushing Books

Amazon

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*****

February 8th

Oh, woe is me; I missed the deadline to enroll in the WIP-IT blog roll. Nonetheless, I want to put forward this snippet from my new release, A Sterling Maid for You. This anthology of sexy, spanking, short stories was co-authored with Sahalie Blue. In this excerpt, Tanya Sterling has asked her husband Mark {{wink}} to help punish one of the naughty maids…

Excerpt:

“Mark, all these swats have hurt my hand. Why don’t you take over? You spank the girl until her bottom is a bright fire-engine red.”

“Oh, no! Please no Mistress, I’ve learned my lesson! Truly, I have.”

1435574243_7649408820132450684_nTanya pushed the begging maid from her lap and she fell into a heap on the floor. She continued to blubber, but did not resist, as Mark replaced Tanya. With tears streaming down her face, Maria succumbed to her fate. She got up and lay across Mark’s lap.

His cock twitched as her belly snuggled up tight against him. If she was aware of his rock-hard erection, she gave no sign. He resumed her spanking with what he hoped were only mildly stinging swats. Maria screamed and struggled as though he was truly belting her. If Tanya noticed how merciful he was being, she did not react.

The spanking continued as her bottom turned a rosy red hue. In all her flailing, she had kicked free her panties and Tanya had picked them up. Mark wondered if his wife was considering using them to gag the noisy girl.

*****

asterlingmaidforyou_smallA Sterling Maid for You has just been released by Blushing Books. It is available from

their website

and from Amazon.

 

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*****

February 1st

Only a few more days to go and A Sterling Maid for You will be published by Blushing asterlingmaidforyou_smallBooks. Sahalie Blue joined me in writing this collection of short stories. She was inspired by a short story I wrote, Man of the House, and she urged me on to as we wrote several more stories with a common theme and interwoven characters. Taken as a whole, it’s almost a book. In this excerpt, one of Tanya Sterling’s maids has earned a spanking…

Excerpt:

Maria had been bent over the spanking bench in Mrs. Sterling’s office several times, but she had never been to her house. As she followed her boss, she discovered that there would be no fun in the playroom. Rather, it looked like more of a dungeon. Spanking implements hung on one wall while a medieval stock stood in the far corner. In the center of the room was a rectangular, padded ottoman, binding straps hung from its legs. In the other corner was a padded punishment horse that also included wrist and ankle bindings.

In the doorway, Maria’s face turned pale as she froze at the sight of her future. Mr. Sterling had to firmly push her deeper into the room.

“Kneel there.” Mrs. Sterling pointed to a spot on the floor. It took a moment for Maria to fully understand that it was she who was being commanded. Gulping down a slug of air, she knelt at the prescribed spot. Tanya then pushed her husband. She guided him to stand directly in front of the maid, facing her. She stared into his midsection, hoping that this punishment was not going to take a sexual direction.

maid-getting-spanked“Maria, Mr. Sterling has forgotten the no-pants rule. And, you have been negligent in your duties. Therefore, part of your punishment will be to take his pants off. I hope that you will take this opportunity to realize how important it is to stay focused upon your assigned tasks in the future.”

Maria stared at Mr. Sterling’s waist. He was wearing simple pajama pants with a tie waistband. She could see how easy it would be to simply pull the bowknot loose and let them drop. However, she was paralyzed, frozen with the fear of what she would find under those pants.

*****

A Sterling Maid for You is scheduled to be released February 7th. If you can’t wait, you can sample my short stories in Spanking Tales:

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*****

 

January 25th

Ah, just for you a snippet from Love Under the Violet Crown. This is a SciFi adventure and is the sequel to my Love on the Forbidden Planet. Also, this sequel is being written with my co-author Sahalie Blue, who joined me in writing A Sterling Maid For You {more on that later}.

In this story my scientist are exploring a civilization on another planet — Maia-3. This population has advanced to the Bronze Age stage and the invading scientist have selected several individual for in depth study. One of these is Akella, and he has just met a new friend…

Excerpt:

“It is very beautiful,” he said, but he was looking at her, not the water.

He gently placed his palm on her cheek. While gazing into her eyes, his fingers traced along her jaw. The warmth from his fingers and his gentle smile made Nan’s insides flutter with excitement. Her spine tingled as he slowly drew his fingers under her chin and down her neck. She reflexively swallowed as he followed the curve of her collarbone.

Unsure of her feelings, she stammered, “We-we should be getting back,” and drained the last of her wine.

His fingertips inched along the fabric of her gown and grazed the outer curve of her breast.

15350704_228988690871860_8482965347324330667_n“Yes, of course.” He released her and collected the two goblets and the pitcher in his left hand. Standing, he reached for her hand with his right. They lazily returned to the gathering in the main portion of the house.

As it was late, Archmed, Iva, and most of the guests had returned to their own homes. Concubines were stretched out on the couches with the men from Byblos. Everyone was nude. Nan turned her back on the sight.

“Will I see you again?” Akella asked.

“Yes, I live here in my father’s house,” Nan answered.

He leaned down to touch his right cheek to hers and her face tingled with pleasure. His fingers touched the fabric of her gown and caressed her belly. Her stomach muscles twitched and contracted as he lightly tickled her.

Continuing their caress, his fingers trailed down the smooth soft fabric covering her belly and came to rest on the mound of her pubic bone. She gasped for breath when his fingers rested within a mere inch from her womanly folds. Her libido spiraled out of control as her heart pounded and her lady bits swelled between her legs.

15895222_1570248992991604_8643578195813362844_nShe was overcome with a desire to touch him, to explore his body. She placed her hand on his abdomen and traced the taut bands of his rock-hard muscles. She inched her fingers down, inside his tunic, until she touched the crease in his flesh where his manhood attached to his abdomen. She did not touch the appendage itself, but she sensed its swelling. A primal need built inside her womanly core. Her pussy wanted to ease his tension, the stiffness that she had created. She longed to feel his erection deep inside her, to be bonded with him. However, she had not excited him merely to service him sexually. Wives and concubines serviced men because they had to—it was their job. Nan wanted more from Akella. She wanted to create the flame of passion in his heart; a passion for only her. She wanted him to make love to her. To accomplish that, she needed to be patient.

*****

fp-ad-2While this book is quite a ways from being published, you can enjoy the first book {in what I hope will become a series}, Love on a Forbidden Planet. This is on sale at Amazon, and FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

 

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*****

January 18th

Very soon I shall being putting my full attention on the fifth book in my Lady Detective series, Arsenic and the Socialite. In this excerpt, my socialite has allowed herself to be cornered by a young man…

*****

“Emile! You mustn’t.” She pushed her skirt back down.

However, she did not pull away from his embrace. He reunited his lips with hers and she allowed him to roll her onto her back. As he poised above her, he placed his hand on her belly. Within moments, he was cupping her breast. She hadn’t worn a corset, thus the thin fabric of her shirt and chemise were the only material separating his fingers from her firm nipple. Madeleine allowed him to massage the combination of softness and firmness that was her youthful breast.

1wIn the London school, boys would wait by the backyard fence at midnight. Having been dared by the younger girls, Madeleine and the older girls would sneak out after midnight and receive kisses through the gaps between the metal bars. Wearing nothing but her nightdresses, Madeleine enjoyed the touch of the boy’s hands upon her breasts.

After allowing Emile to explore her womanly feature for several minutes, she pulled away.

“I must go. Mama will be looking for me.” She stood up and brushed the grass from her skirt. “We are going back to Rowaleyn tomorrow. Don’t write directly to me anymore. Send your letter to Miss Bruce, care of the Post Office in Rowaleyn. I shall pick it up on Saturday. Tell me when we can next be together and we can spend an hour of bliss.”

“And you, be more careful of your bad habits. Do not allow your sister to learn of our meetings—again. Or, I might spank you myself.” He grinned in a devilish fashion.

*****

studied abroad Angers, France, date taken 02/06/2005

While Lady Rowan’s adventures are in a series, each book is independent. Chose one to your liking and enjoy. I’ll give you the links for the first one at:

Blushing Books

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

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January 11th

For your reading enjoyment, I am presenting a snippet from Love Under the Violet Crown. This is a SciFi adventure and is the sequel to my ever popular Love on the Forbidden Planet. For added interest, this sequel is being written with my co-author Sahalie Blue. You must surely remember her from A Sterling Maid For You {well, maybe not – that is also a work-in-progress}.

Anyway, in this story my scientist are exploring a civilization on another planet — Maia-3. This population has advanced to the Bronze Age stage. To retrieve some valuable data, Diane and Isaak have entered the city disguised as a soldier and his captive female slave. All goes well, until…

Excerpt:

Isaak continued to guide them through the twisting streets. The home of Aristo’s courtesan was several blocks from the central market place. Thus, they continued to mingle with the merchants until they reached the market square. When they turned along a side street, a man blocked their path.

rd_desert_sm“How much? What does the pretty woman cost?” he asked. He rudely grasped her chin and squeezed until Diane opened her mouth. He examined her teeth.

“She’s not for sale, sir. She is a gift for my father,” Isaak said, but did nothing to hinder the man’s examination of the mock-slave.

“I’ll give you fifty drachma for her.”

“Ha,” Isaak said, mocking him. “Surely, she is worth much more than that.”

The man gripped her large, mounded breast. She wore nothing under the thin fabric. Diane slapped his hand away.

14449911_181004082336988_7049071810022843442_n“Ah, a real fire cat. Let me own her so that she might learn manners while positioned across my knee.” He smacked Diane on the butt. Satisfied with the firmness of her derrière, he continued, “I’ll give you one hundred drachma for her.”

“Thank you for the kind offer,” Isaak answered, “but, as I said, she is for my father.” Isaak chuckled. “No doubt he will want the privilege to be the first to spank her.”

The man stood back and examined Diane head to toe. “She has the look of a princess of Byblos. Have you used her, or is she still a virgin?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Let me give you two hundred drachma. You can buy your father a fine slave and pocket a tidy sum for yourself.”

“Thank you for your generous offer, sir.” Isaak stiffened the tone of his voice. “Now please stand aside so that we may pass.”

The man grunted, and walked away.

15401074_228987997538596_113729218881722503_n“I could have sold you. You owe me,” Isaak whispered. “You owe me big time.” He chuckled and, with a slight tug on her leash, continued walking.

Diane frowned and rubbed the sting on her bottom away. She started to retort, but thought better of it. Silently, she followed him.

*****

forbiddenplanetcoverWhile this book is quite a ways from being published, you can enjoy the first book {in what I hope will become a series}, Love on a Forbidden Planet. This is on sale at Amazon, and FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

 

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January 4, 2016

South Pass Brides

Raise the roof! Our first WIP-IT Wednesday of 2017, and our first one with the new blog roll. southpassbridesThank you Meredith O’Reilly.

This segment is from my second attempt at a Western: South Pass Brides. This book will be released January 10th, so you don’t have long to wait. Not to give too much away, but in this scene my heroine has just been spanked by our hero for the first time. Now, she wants more…

*****

Olga swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and tried to decide exactly what her intentions were. Her swollen pussy throbbed. She felt vulnerable, but ready for him to take her.

“Yes, Mr. Meyer, I think that this behavior is rather naughty.”

He rolled onto his side and cradled her face in his palms. He pulled their faces together. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. Her tongue touched his as they kissed. She inhaled his aroma and pressed her lips tightly against his mouth. Slowly, he pulled away.

“Do you need another spanking?” he asked.

14322766_10157398081665043_7799496385413101413_nHer belly clenched and droplets of dew oozed from her womanhood with the sound of his words, but she could not force words of her own to form. When she said nothing, he released her.

Why does he not take me now?

Olga could not reconcile her emotions with what she knew to be decent common sense. She wanted him to make love with her, but she knew this would be completely inappropriate. It was totally improper for her to even be in the bed beside him. She wanted him, but she could not say the words.

He’s being such a gentleman.

*****

prairiepassionsThis book will be released January 10, 2017. While you wait, you can read Prairie Passions, written by myself and Savannah Rollins. This book is available from  Amazon, and is FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

Now, don’t forget to enjoy the other snippets on the Wednesday blog roll by clicking the link below:

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