Her Barbarian Master!

Author Promotion.

This Sunday, I bring you Maggie Carpenter’s hot historical erotic romance, Her Barbarian Master!

Serenity has just crossed a line. In an attempt to defend her best friend, the free-spirited, flaxen-haired young woman has challenged the leader of the Bathus, a clan of barbarians that live in a castle ruin above her tiny village.

The leader’s son, Killian, decides to chastise her with a sound spanking, and throwing her over his shoulder he carries her away to be punished. Serenity, however, is made of tough stuff. Even with a stinging backside she is unafraid, and yelling her fury she storms off, leaving him stunned and in disbelief.

But when the anger fades, she can’t stop thinking about him.

A short time later a rival clan attacks and they are thrown together. Their smouldering chemistry flames, but in the heat of their blazing passion they uncover a diabolical plot that threatens their lives, and the future of the entire clan.

“Storytelling at its best!” The love story is amazing, dangerous, and full of ups and downs. The humour is laugh out loud funny.  A sizzling romance full of danger, sprinkled with humour, and an action-packed plot that will keep you guessing.

Check out this scintillating spanking excerpt:

***

He stopped, and craning her neck she was able to see him pushing open a tall dark wooden door. He didn’t have to bend down to pass through it, and the room they entered was far grander than any she’d ever imagined. The furniture was made from rough wood, but the room was expansive and boasted a huge bed covered in fur, a wide table with several seats, and a fireplace with furry pelts covering the floor directly in front of it. She was expecting him to sit down and bend her over his lap, and she nervously waited, but he continued to move around the room carrying her over his shoulder, apparently searching for something.

“Can you please put me down?”

She had used her soft, pleading voice, the one that had worked surprisingly well with Bastian, and was always effective with her parents.

“I have yet to punish you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Hush, you will, ah, there it is.”

He leaned slightly forward, and though her vantage point didn’t allow her to see what he was picking up, a moment later a hard piece of wood was laying against the full width of her bottom.

“What you feel is my punishment paddle. It is what I use to discipline my women, and now it will discipline you. I would advise you not to put your hands behind you. Usually I tie the wrists before putting a woman over my shoulder, but perhaps it is good you’re not bound. You will learn to obey.”

“Obey?”

“If you do not do as I tell you, and try to use your hands to cover your backside, the paddle will hit your knuckles. Nothing stops me from swatting once I begin.”

“But, uh, how long will you—?”

“Three turns, beginning now.”

Serenity had no idea what he’d meant by three turns, and she didn’t have time to ask. The paddle abruptly landed with its hot sting, and letting out a loud yelp, it took all her fortitude not to throw her arms behind her and grab her seat. As he stepped forward he spanked her again, and she urgently clutched his shirt. The paddle struck once more, and this time she squirmed in his hold.

“OWWW, please, stop, it hurts.”

He didn’t respond, but continued his slow walk, swinging the paddle with each stride. The rhythm was steady, and though the predictability helped, it did nothing to mitigate the searing heat permeating her backside. Squeezing her eyes shut, she cried loudly with every swat, until at last he stopped.

“That was one turn,” he declared. “You’ll have a moment then I shall resume.”

Opening her eyes, she looked around and discovered he’d stopped where he’d started; a turn was a circle of his room.

“Two more? No, please, no. I can’t bear it.”

“You must. You have no choice, but the second turn I will be using my hand.”

He moved the few steps to the table and set down the paddle, and though she felt a shred of relief, it was short-lived. To her horror he began sliding up her dress.

“NO! Do not bare me, please, no, sir, no.”

“Sir? The wench is learning, but when I punish, you must call me Master.”

“Master, please don’t expose me.”

“Had you not been so rude and difficult, I wouldn’t. You deserve it.”

***

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Logan: Cowboy Bodyguard

The Never Ending Blog Tour.

Shes been aching for a dominant, and now one is standing right in front of her in the form of a handsome cowboy. Dare she take the plunge?

This week the Never Ending Blog tour is excited to bring you Maggie Carpenter’s new release,  Logan: Cowboy Bodyguard.

Brandy Coleman’s face is flaming red. As the owner of a barn for retired horses she’s had her share of mishaps, but nothing can compare to this deeply embarrassing moment. She is looking up at a stranger who has the dreamiest hazel eyes she’s ever seen, and a six pack beneath his open shirt that is making her knees weak. The problem? Her hose burst and squirted water everywhere, leaving her hair a tangled mess and her clothes absolutely drenched.

Logan Scott has arrived at Rainbow’s End Ranch to apply for a job as a ranch hand. He is led into the barn by an exuberant Golden Retriever where he is met by a stunning sight. A gorgeous girl, dripping wet, is bent over wrapping a towel around her head. As she straightens up he can’t help but notice her thin pink T-shirt is clinging to her luscious curves.

The sparks fly, Brandy hires him, but as the days pass a threat looms over the ranch…and Brandy herself.

A known thug wants her property and won’t take no for an answer. Logan declares he’s changing his job description from ranch hand to bodyguard, and to keep her safe, Brandy will have to do as he says. Will she…?

LOGAN:Cowboy Bodyguard is a steamy love story laced with danger and suspense. Like all Maggie Carpenter books it is a riveting page-turner with unexpected twists. Pick up your copy today, and escape to the romance at Rainbow’s End Ranch.

Here’s a hot spanking taster from the book… (18+ content!)

***

Feeling a hot rush ripple through her body, she rose to her feet and headed across to the stove. In a large copper pot she had a variety of utensils, and selecting three wooden spoons she quickly returned, placed them in front of him, then pulled down her jeans and underwear.

“This is the weakest,” he said picking up one that was relatively thin. “This is better,” he continued, slapping the second into the palm of his hand, “and this here would be the most painful,” he finished, selecting the last which was larger and heavier. “Got it?”

“Yes, Sir,” she nodded, gazing down at them and wondering where Logan was going with the conversation.

“You’re gonna get six swats on each cheek, one side for gallopin’ off, and the other for carryin’ on at Lyle. You decide which spoon you deserve.”

“Me?” she asked, her eyes wide. “What if I guess wrong?”

“This isn’t a test. You can’t guess wrong. Tell me which spoon you think you deserve.”

“Uh, well not the first, but the third would be too much. I know I have to learn to control my temper and not jump the gun, but it takes time to change, and it wasn’t purposely defiant. I didn’t sit there and say to myself, I know this is wrong but I’m going to do it anyway, so, uh, the middle one, that would be right.”

“I agree,” he said picking it up and rising to his feet. “Elbows on the table and arch your back. There are only two rules. Don’t put your hands behind you and don’t kick out. If you do either of those things I’ll start over. Any questions?”

“No, Sir,” she replied, her butterflies turning into a thousand tiny gymnasts as she assumed the position.

“This is for takin’ off down that hill without so much as a word to me. You didn’t ask what I thought, or even if I wanted to go with you. I’m your bodyguard. Get that through your head!”

“Yes, Sir, and I’m sorry. I’ll try to think twice next time.”

“If there is a next time, and you bolt like that again, it’ll be twelve hard swats with the heavy spoon,” he scolded. “Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Brandy stared out the window and clenched her teeth as she waited for the first smack. He was smoothing the back of the spoon across her skin, and when he tapped it lightly she assumed it meant he was about to start. She was right. The first swat landed with a keen sting, and squeezing her eyes shut she swallowed back her yelp. The second landed in a different spot but hurt just as bad and was followed quickly by the third.

“OWW! Sir, OWW, that hurts,” she exclaimed squirming her hips. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.”

“You do understand it’s supposed to hurt,” he declared pausing for a moment. “That’s why it’s called correction, or punishment if you prefer that word.”

“Yes, Sir. I do know it’s supposed to hurt, but damn.”

“Are you learning?”

“Most definitely, Sir.”

“Are you ready for the next three?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He had purposely delivered the swats with force. This was her first punishment spanking, and if they were going to move forward, and she really did want discipline and direction from him, she needed to understand that’s exactly what she would get. He landed the next three rapidly and just as hard, the last landing on her sit spot.

“OW, shit, shit shit!”

“I did say you’d be drivin’ to Brownsville on a hot seat, and I meant it, Brandy.”

 

***

 

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A Strict Gentleman by Jaye Peaches

Author Promotion.

For a truly sinful Sunday, check out Jaye Peaches naughty new release, A Strict Gentleman

“You are bound by the rules of this century, not yours. I shall hold you accountable in whatever way I wish.”

Twenty-three-year-old Kelly Regan didn’t expect much excitement when she took a job as a curator at a historic estate, but upon encountering a beautiful, mysteriously powerful mirror she suddenly finds herself transported back to the Victorian era.

Kelly is intrigued by the estate’s owner, the handsome bachelor Sir Henry Yarlswood, and in order to learn more about life in his household she impersonates another woman and obtains a position as his maid. But Henry is not a man who tolerates dishonestly from his staff, and after her deception is discovered Kelly’s bottom is bared for a painful, embarrassing spanking.

The stern punishment only increases Kelly’s desire to know more about her handsome employer, but after she is caught snooping through his personal effects she soon finds herself stripped naked for an even more shameful chastisement. Despite her sore bottom, however, she is deeply aroused by Henry’s firm-handed dominance, and when he claims her properly his masterful lovemaking leaves her spent and satisfied. But will their blossoming romance be enough to keep her by his side, even if it means leaving her old life behind forever?

Publisher’s Note: A Strict Gentleman includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

If this has whetted your appetite, then brace yourself for this sizzling little spanking excerpt…

***

Henry paused and flexed the rod before swishing it through the air a few times. It was a horrible sound, unmistakable. Her fantasy scenario of moaning girls and probing dominants with frisky fingers was nothing like the strict application of Henry’s cane.

“I wish to know, young lady,” Henry said as he continued to swish the cane through the air, “have you taken anything from this room?”

Taken? She’d looked in his journal, but not taken it. “No, sir,” she gasped.

The cane struck with a resounding thud and she drummed the palms of her hand on the seat of the chair. “No, I haven’t,” she repeated.

“Please keep your head up, Kelly. The mirror is there for both our benefits.”

He noticed she liked to look at him and he was using it to observe her too. It was an odd moment of reassurance. If he could see her face, the tears, the pained expression, he must be judging whether she was coping or on the verge of collapse. Was Henry so cruel as to want her to faint? She doubted it. Nothing she’d read in his journal, assuming he accurately portrayed his activities, implied he sought a woman’s injury or committed harmful acts. The cane stung like crazy, but it wasn’t being wielded with force, only accuracy.

She raised her head and stared at him. He nodded, then to her amazement, he stepped toward her behind and with his forefinger traced the line of the cane.

Kelly gasped, not because it hurt or made the mark throb any harder, but because it was tender and curative. For a few seconds she was thrilled, excited, and perversely aroused by that delicate touch. Now she throbbed in a new spot; her little nub was aching to be noticed.

“Because I know,” he said, stepping back, “that taken objects can be returned to their correct location without being missed.” He cracked the cane swiftly against her bottom.

***

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