Tag Archive | dominance

“You shall not raise your hand to me again, lady, lest you wish to find yourself upended across my lap and spanked.”

Ashe Barker is here with Her Celtic Captor

                                        Blurb:

As the sister of a powerful Viking chief, Brynhild Freysson is used to giving orders and having them obeyed, which makes it all the more difficult to accept when she suddenly finds herself at the mercy of a Celtic warrior intent on bringing her back to his village whether she likes it or not.

Taranc was a leader of his people before he was taken captive by Viking raiders, and now that he is a free man once more he has no intention of allowing a headstrong Norse woman to slow down his journey home with her stubborn disobedience. When Brynhild refuses to do as she is told, he wastes no time in baring her bottom for a thorough switching, and he makes it quite clear that she can expect even more painful and humiliating punishments if she continues to defy him.

Though her hatred of the Celts runs deep, Taranc’s stern dominance awakens desires in Brynhild that she thought she would never feel again, and when he takes her in his arms and claims her properly it is more pleasurable than she would have thought possible. But though her passion for him grows by the day, can she ever truly love a man whose people are enemies of her own?

Publisher’s Note: Her Celtic Captor is a stand-alone sequel to Her Rogue Viking and Her Dark Viking. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book

Buy Links

Amazon US:

Amazon UK:

Read Chapter 1 for free

Excerpt 

“Gather kindling and load the fire pits. Get on with it. Do you think your fire will light itself, perhaps?”

Taranc spun in surprise at the haughty female voice behind him, and almost swallowed his tongue. The tall, blonde woman who approached across the meadow beside a loaded barrow and flanked by two young thralls was nothing short of stunning. She fought to keep a crate of squawking poultry balanced on top of what appeared to be a pile of blankets, her waist-length plaited hair shining in the early afternoon sunlight. If he had ever beheld a vision more beautiful he could not recall it, and Taranc was a man normally possessed of an excellent memory.

He stepped forward to catch the crate before it tumbled to the ground. It would be a pity if those birds were to escape after all the trouble this trio had gone to in order to drag the clucking fowls all the way over here. He lowered it to the grass and peered through the slats at the irate chickens within. Could this be their supper, perhaps?

“Light fires.” The Viking woman cast her gaze about the sorry crowd, clearly irritated by their inactivity. “You will need to cook, to keep warm. Here is firewood.” The woman gestured at the pile of logs. “I shall send bread…”

“Thank you.” Taranc offered the woman a polite bow. “We would appreciate that.”

She fixed him with a cold stare. “And I would appreciate it if you would set your quarters to rights. Here are blankets, since it will be cold later. You will find kindling hereabouts if you seek it.” She glowered at him, her jaw clenching. “Move. You have not been brought here in order that you may sit about taking your ease the entire day.”

She might be lovely to look at, but the woman was sorely lacking in compassion, concluded Taranc. She had eyes in her head, a perfectly delightful shade of pale blue, he noted. Could she not see the state his people were in? She was seemingly as misguided at Dagr.

“Lady, we have walked for two days, had almost nothing to eat and no rest. We are tired and hungry, and can do no more this day. We thank you for the firewood and the food you have provided, and as soon as a few of us have our breath back we will do as you suggest. But once the fires are lit, I believe it is fair to say we will be taking our ease the rest of this fine afternoon.”

Her expression was a delightful mix of outrage and incredulity. Her lovely mouth worked though she appeared at a loss for words. Dagr, too, seemed near enough ready to explode and his whip was already curling in the air. Taranc had had enough and stepped forward to disarm the man, then tossed the weapon to the ground. He was at once surrounded by Viking warriors, their swords drawn.

The Viking woman stepped forward and slapped the man closest to her on the shoulder. “Stop, all of you. Are you quite mad? My brother did not have these slaves brought here only for you dolts to slaughter his workers before so much as one stone has been laid. Our granary requires live thralls to build it.”

“Lady, this does not concern you,” intoned the arrogant Dagr as he retrieved his whip. “I shall deal with the slaves, and—”

“All at Skarthveit concerns me,” corrected the vision of loveliness. The venom in her tone did not escape Taranc, even if Dagr seemed oblivious. “And you,” she turned her attention to Taranc, “you will do as I ask. Now.”

Taranc might lust after the Viking noblewoman, he was a male and drew breath so how could he not? But he did not like her, and he had never yet fucked a woman he disliked.

“Allow me to be plain since I wish there to be no misunderstanding between us. You are coming with me. You will be silent, and you will be co-operative. If you cause me no problems we shall get along quite well, but I will tolerate no disobedience from you. You have been warned. Further attempts to thwart me will result in you being punished, and a decent switching will be just the start of it. Do not test me on this, Brynhild. You will regret it.”

“If you require a demonstration of my power over you I shall be delighted to oblige you. A few strokes of my belt should do the job.”

“You and I find ourselves thrown together by circumstances. I do not know how long we shall be in one another’s company, but I expect it to be a while. Your obedience and submission are vital, to my safety, and did you but know it, to yours also. If you cross me, I shall punish you, and then the matter will be closed. A spanking puts an end to the matter.”

“I would wed you in a heartbeat, my lovely Viking, but I fear we would spend the rest of our lives tearing each other apart.”

Buy Links

Amazon US:

Amazon UK:

Thanks for stopping by, Ashe 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He has her body. Will she give him her heart?

 

HER ROGUE VIKING

by Ashe Barker

Blurb

Though Fiona puts up a brave fight when her village is raided by Vikings, she ends up being carried off over the broad shoulders of Ulfric Freysson, the leader of the Norsemen. The stern, ruggedly handsome warrior quickly makes it clear that she belongs to him now, and her best efforts to escape merely earn Fiona a painful, humiliating switching on her bare bottom.

Her captor’s bold dominance sets Fiona’s passion ablaze, and when he brings her to his bed she cannot help begging for him to claim her completely. As Ulfric begins training her to please him in any way he demands, Fiona finds herself falling in love with her new master, but she soon realizes that there are those among his people who still see her as an enemy. When her life is threatened by a member of his own family, will he stand ready to protect her no matter the cost?

 

Publisher’s Note: Her Rogue Viking includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

 Buy Links 

Amazon 

 Read Chapter 1 for free

 

Blog post Introduction

 I have always been fascinated by Vikings. Strong, sexy warriors, ruthless, dominant and determined – what’s not to like? It was only a matter of time before I wove a story around these fierce raiders who rampaged through Scotland and England for over three centuries, eventually settling and leaving their indelible mark on our history.

 

A Viking raid was indeed a ferocious affair. They relied on what would nowadays probably be termed ‘shock and awe’ swooping in from the sea on their fast dragon ships to attack with vicious and deadly effect. The Nordic raiders would be gone almost as swiftly as they arrived, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. The modern equivalent would be a helicopter attack on a sleepy rural village by SWAT teams armed with automatic weapons– the local people would hardly know what hit them.

 

I have employed a certain amount of poetic license, but I was determined to recreate the Viking era to the best of my ability – their homes, their clothing, what they ate, how they lived. I hope readers will be as entranced as I am by these creative and charismatic raiders, and perhaps forgive them their more outrageous little foibles.

Excerpt 2 (18+)

Ulfric carried her to the fallen tree and set her down beside it, taking care to allow her to lower her good leg first. Then, still ensuring that her weight remained on her uninjured foot, Ulfric helped Fiona to turn and face the trunk, then eased her torso forward until she was balanced across it. The furs and blanket provided a soft cushion. Fiona could find no reason to complain that her comfort was not considered as Ulfric patted her soon-to-be-punished bottom.

“I will lift you a little higher, to ensure that your feet are off the ground and taking no weight, and to offer me a better target, naturally.” He did not wait for any further comment from Fiona. In moments she was dangling over the tree trunk, her feet inches from the bare earth and her head and shoulders balancing her weight on the other side. The grass and a light dusting of fallen leaves were just inches from her nose but she could just make out their shapes in the gathering gloom as she quivered in this unfamiliar and vulnerable position.

Her father had been no disciplinarian. In all her nineteen summers no one had ever so much as slapped her wrist, let alone bent her over a fallen tree for a public switching. Fiona wondered if it was possible to die of humiliation.

She managed not to whimper as her skirts were raised above her waist, then tucked under the woven braid that served as a belt. Fiona was acutely aware of the half dozen or so Viking warriors who had gathered to observe the proceedings. They were all now afforded a fine view of her upturned, naked buttocks. She was glad she could not decipher the exact meaning of their calls and remarks, though the general gist was plain enough.

The jocularity ceased abruptly at a word from Ulfric. The men remained in place, watching, but they no longer offered their lewd observations.

Fiona was accustomed to harsh winters, but the bitter chill of this Nordic early evening was equal to anything she could recall in her own country. She shivered as the icy breeze caressed her bare backside and could not help clenching as Ulfric bent to select the first switch.

“Fear not, little wench. You shall soon be feeling a good deal warmer.” He swung the switch in an experimental arc, slow at first, then fast enough to produce an ominous whistle. Fiona shrieked.

Ulfric chuckled and moved in close. He laid the palm of his free hand on her bottom, the caress almost affectionate. “Try not to clench, though I realise it is difficult. Are you ready?”

There was nothing to be gained by delaying matters. Fiona nodded, then clenched her bound hands into fists as she tensed for the first stroke.

“Aagh!” She let out a shrill scream as fire exploded across her right buttock. Her entire body jerked with the force of the blow, though she had been expecting it. This hurt though, more than she had ever imagined.

“One,” Ulfric intoned. “Be still, Celt. Settle down and we shall continue.”

Somehow, through the haze of pain, she heard his words and managed to obey. Moments later fire snaked across her left cheek.

“Ooh!” Sweet Jesus, can I bear this?

“Two. Now relax, you do not wish to drag this out, I am sure.”

He was right, she did not. Fiona willed her tense muscles to soften and drew in a shuddering breath.

“Three. Four.”

She was managing the pain just slightly better now, no longer so shocked by the intensity of sensation. She managed not to cry out, and needed no further reminders to keep her buttocks soft.

“That is good. Five. Six. Seven.”

Fiona writhed against the blanket. Despite her determination to bear this ordeal with fortitude she was unable to remain still, nor could she contain her tears that flowed unchecked across her face.

Ulfric paused to once again lay his palm over her throbbing backside. Her bottom was on fire and she flinched under his touch though he was not rough with her.

“You are doing well. Just three more to go. Shall I continue, Fiona?”

No! Enough! “Yes. Please, just finish this and let me get up.”

More about Ashe Barker

USA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.

Ashe tends to draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.

Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days – her time is divided between her role as taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises.  And a very grumpy cockatiel.

At the last count Ashe had over forty titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.

Ashe has a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keeps thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from her.

Ashe loves to hear from readers. Here are her social media links:

Newsletter sign-up

www.ashebarker.com

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Pinterest

Goodreads

Or you can email her direct on ashe.barker1@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

A highland warrior with a score to settle

The Laird and the Sassenach

By Ashe Barker

thelairdandthesassenachBlurb

After her half-brother attacks the kinsmen of Blair McGregor, Lady Roselyn of Etal is brought before the stern highland laird to answer for her reluctant, unwitting role in the crime. Once she has told her story, she throws herself at his mercy.

Blair soon realizes that Roselyn is as much a victim of her half-brother as anyone, but his people’s demands for justice cannot be ignored entirely, so he strips the young Englishwoman bare and chastises her firmly with a switch applied to her naked backside.

The painful, humiliating punishment both assuages Roselyn’s guilt and leaves her yearning to be even more thoroughly mastered by the handsome laird. Though Blair makes it clear that she is free to return home, she instead chooses to remain with the him in his castle… and in his bed. Their passion soon blossoms into romance, but can the highlander protect his beautiful Sassenach when the villain who caused them both so much pain tries to tear her away from him?

 

Publisher’s Note: The Laird and the Sassenach includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

 Buy Link    Amazon  

 Read Chapter 1 for free

 

Excerpt 2 (18+)

“Will you beat me again?”

“Aye, if you deserve it. For disobedience or disrespect. I am master here and that will apply to all. But you would not find me cruel. Indeed, I believe you would find pleasure in what I offer.”

“Pleasure, my lord? I do not quite take your meaning.”

“Will you not own to the slightest stirring? You may deny your arousal but your body betrays ye, Roselyn. Your nipples are swollen, your eyes have darkened as you consider my offer. I believe if you were to spread your thighs for me now I would find you wet.”

“Wet?” She drew in a shuddering breath. “My nipples… it is chilly in here.”

“Nay, it is not. I banked up the fire afore I woke you. Stop making excuses and open your legs for me, Roselyn.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will, and you will do it now.”

“I…”

He trailed his fingers the length of her body, tracing a path between her breasts and across her flat stomach to her mound. There he teased the auburn curls which protected her most intimate place.

“Open for me.” He leaned in to whisper the words into her ear, his familiar male smell overwhelming her senses. He was spice, and he was musk, heather, pine, and something mysteriously unique, an essence which was only his.

Roselyn was lost, mesmerised. She rolled fully onto her back, even managed not to wince as her weight settled on her punished buttocks. Bending her knees a little, she allowed him to tease her thighs apart. His slid his hand between her legs and stroked her moist folds.

“Ah, so deliciously damp. Roselyn, you do indeed delight me.”

“My lord…” She was lost, her words buried under the waves of pure sensation. “What are you doing to me?”

“I am pleasuring ye, sweetheart. Be still for me, and open wider.”

As though in a trance, wrapped in fog of unaccustomed sensuality, Roselyn obeyed. She arched her back and let out a sharp cry as he slipped one long finger into her wet channel.

He paused. “Did I hurt ye?”

She shook her head. “No. It was… oh, please do that once more if you would.”

He thrust his finger into her again, then added a second digit. Unfamiliar sensations assailed Roselyn, both confusing and exciting. And intense. It was incredible, unbelievable. Her head whirled. She felt tight, stretched, yet at the same time she wanted nothing other than to spread her body open, to welcome this intrusion. He was right, this was about pleasure. It was a strange sort of joy, but she craved it nonetheless.

“That feels good, my lord.”

“My title is laird, not lord, but I believe we are on first name terms now. You will use my given name, most particularly when my fingers or indeed any part of my anatomy is lodged within your sweet cunt.”

“Oh, God…”

“Nay, just Blair will do.” He withdrew his fingers and resumed stroking her outer lips. He found a spot which brought Roselyn’s hips right up from the mattress. “Ah, now I see I have your complete attention. Perhaps you might like to practice using my name.” He paused in his sensuous rubbing and Roselyn moaned her need.

“Say my name,” he urged.

“Blair.” She whispered it.

He resumed the torturous caress. “Again. Say it again. Louder.”

She raised her voice a little. “Blair.”

“Better. And you will scream my name when you find your release.”

“My…?”

He took that most sensitive nubbin between his fingers and he squeezed. Something clenched within, deep in her core, and Roselyn longed for his fingers to be inside her tight channel again. She yearned to be filled, stretched, owned.

“Could you…? Blair, I need…”

“I know.” He continued to roll her sensitive flesh between his fingers, whilst he used his free hand to open that most secret place and plunged two digits into her again.

It was too much. Roselyn could no longer speak, could not even form a coherent thought. She could only feel as irresistible shudders rocked her slight form and her inner walls clenched helplessly around his fingers. She arched further, lifting her hips, pleading for something, anything…

“Oh, Blair. Blair, Blair, Blair!” She let out a keening wail as the sensations peaked and her body convulsed, then, gasping, she stilled.

 

Blog post Introduction

 The Laird and the Sassenach is a story of a man with justice to mete out, and a dilemma to face. Sometimes the truth seems to stare us in the face, at other times it may be not so clear where the blame lies. In the middle ages, of course, matters of crime and punishment, guilt or innocence were simple enough. The social hierarchies of the time placed authority and power in few hands and there were no qualifications required which entitled the privileged to rule. They were just handed the job and the common folk had to hope their leaders would turn out to be wise and fair. Sometimes they got lucky, and The Laird and the Sassenach is a story of one such instance.

I love to write historical stories. I am especially drawn to Highland fantasies, and why not? Who can resist the soaring Scottish scenery and sexy men in kilts. I find myself fascinated by that heady cocktail of honour and lawlessness, the atmospheric sensuality of the time and the way an all-powerful laird will reveal his soft centre just when it matters. But the Sassenach in the story also has her little quirks and faces some unique challenges. And look out for an unlikely star of the show. Freya the wolfhound has her part to play and I absolutely adored her.

I hope readers enjoy The Laird and the Sassenach as much as I loved writing it

Thanks so much for stopping by, Ashe 🙂

Sadie says she’ll obey. Simon asks: starting when?

Sadie Says I Do

by Libby Campbell

(Simon in Charge – book 3)

sadiesaysidoBlurb

 Sadie and Simon are ready to exchange vows. Almost. All they need now is a place to call home. Once that detail is settled, Sadie promises she’ll start planning the wedding.

Money is no object and a realtor finds them a house they love immediately. Could it possibly be that easy?

Of course not! An outstanding claim means the title won’t be free for a few months yet. In the meantime, Sadie wants to carve out a life with a daily routine focused on volunteer work with homeless people. Haunted by a ghost from his past, Simon wants to resume his life of international travel at least until the house is theirs.

Can they find a happy medium?

This is book 3 in the Simon in Charge series. It can be enjoyed as a standalone novel and includes that all-important HEA.

Publishers’ note: This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books’ or the author’s advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or spanking of minors.

 Buy links:

 

AmazonBlushing BooksBarnes & NobleAll Romance ebooks

Excerpt 1 (Rating: NC-17 – very spanky)

I tried to look away but he took my chin and made me meet his eyes. “Do you remember telling me once that it was okay for me to spank you as long as that fact remained private? Something that happened only between us?”

I nodded.

“For future reference, if you disobey or embarrass me in public like you did today, then I will feel free to warn you the consequences just as publicly.” He paused long enough to make me shiver. “If you don’t want the world to know that you are going to be spanked, don’t act like you need one. You are on notice.”

I knitted my fingers together to stop them from trembling.

“Now.” He sat back, his knees spread. “Assume the position.”

I shimmied across his left leg, brushing my breasts against his chest as I turned. When I bent at the waist, my hip rubbed him gently. He stroked the small of my back once I was settled bottom skyward, the top half of my body pushed into the bed. With his right leg he trapped my legs so they couldn’t move. My pulse raced and I wished I could fast forward the next few minutes. He traced small circles first on one cheek then on the other.

“You are both naughty and forgetful,” he said. “How many times have we talked lately about the problems that come when one of us acts unilaterally?”

“Less than a thousand?” I hoped humor might get me some clemency.

“Correct in a smartass way.” Smack. “But if numbers are so hard for you maybe you need to work on them. You can keep track of how many times I spank you. Ready?”

He didn’t give me time to answer. The slaps came hard and fast and I fought to keep breathing as I counted aloud.

“Ten,” I choked out as he paused for a minute.

“Correct. And with that, we can call the outstanding issue of the LEED certification settled. It was, after all, a good requirement but you did fail to follow partnership protocol. You’re not going to do that again, are you?”

“No. I won’t. I promise,” I said with a whimper, happy to draw a line under that part of my penalty.

He rubbed my stinging cheeks. “And now we come to your defiant attitude, to your cranky response to a polite request for drinks. It seems that defiance needs to be spanked out of you and obviously I’m not doing a good enough job.”

Don’t miss these other great books from Libby Campbell and Blushing Books:

Simon Says (Simon in Charge, book one)

Winning Sadie (Simon in Charge, book two)

 Libby Campbell, mischief maker and dreamer

Libby lives on the West Coast of Canada with her husband of over twenty-five years. An avid reader, she savors books that feature strong, independent women and the loving men who challenge them.

She loves mountain hikes, deep bubble baths, and all animals, but particularly small dogs with big attitudes and big dogs who think they are lap dogs. A woman for all seasons, Libby is happy cuddling in front of a winter fire, watching a summer sunset, listening to birds in the spring and walking in the autumn rain.

Optimistic by nature, Libby wants a solid HEA in her reading and her writing. She hopes you will enjoy escaping to the dream worlds where she spends far too much time.

Recently she’s been dipping into Pinterest and building boards with images of people and places that inspire her characters and the worlds they live in.

Connect with Libby Campbell on social media:

 Visit her website and blog here: Libby Campbell

Find her on Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/Libby-Campbell-849543415164235/

Follow her on Twitter: @LibbyC26

Visit her Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Libby-Campbell/e/B01B75CENW

Pinterest: https://nz.pinterest.com/libby3054/

Q&A with Libby Campbell:

 Your first book, Simon Says, came out in January 2016. Sadie Says I Do is a December release. What did you learn in that first year of writing romance?

When I finished Simon Says, I got a big surprise: I’d fallen in love with Simon and Sadie and wasn’t ready to say good-bye to them. Their story just kept unfolding in front of me and I had to explore their world further. Three books later…

Next I realized I love writing this genre. It’s playful but still demands a lot from an author: the characters must be complex and the stories have to have a well-paced. There has to be a satisfying ending that brings all the threads and characters together. For me that means there has to be an HEA.

I also learned that other writers in this genre are enormously helpful and supportive.

What was your best date ever?

My first date with my husband. In the middle of a crowded restaurant, he said I needed a spanking. I was gazing out the window but that got my attention. Even though he’d never spanked a woman before, something in me triggered that response. How could that be? I’m such a compliant, easy going sort of woman.

At that moment, I knew we were meant for each other. The opening scene of Simon Says is based on that date.

Chocolate or chips?

 Chocolate but blue chips are a close second.

Smooth or hairy?

Are we talking fruit, jackets, or cats?

 Can you tell us about your newest release, the one that follows Winning Sadie?

 Sadie Says I Do closes on Christmas at the end of that year in which Simon and Sadie first met.

Between their New Year’s meeting and their December wedding is all the passion and lust of a new love followed by the period of leveling off, of rethinking that early desire. Writing the courtship stage in the first book was easy. The early days of love are so forgiving.

Catching up with the lovers six months and then twelve months down the road was an interesting way to see their relationship develop. Sadie learned to assert herself more in the relationship, all the while submitting to Simon’s authority. Simon learned to let more of his vulnerable side show.

While all the books are basically billionaire-romance fantasies, the characters are meant to be well developed, three-dimensional people.

Even though Sadie Says I Do is book three in the Simon in Charges series, it can be read as a standalone novel.

When you write do you ever model your characters after real people?

Simon’s ease with languages is based on two people I know, both of whom only need 4-5 hours of exposure to a language to develop working fluency. What a gift!

All the other characters are straight from my overactive imagination, often inspired by real events. My female protagonists may include a great deal of my own personality.

 

What do you hope people will take away from your books?

 The most important element in any relationship, but particularly relationships where one partner takes the command position over another, is trust.

I’d also like to emphasize most emphatically that DD and BDSM doesn’t always work well or effortlessly. It’s not a generic, one size fits all practice.

If you’re new to the world and want to integrate elements of discipline into your life, take it slowly. The heroes on the romance pages don’t exist in real life and expectations must be adjusted accordingly.

 

What do you know now that you wish you’d known when you started writing?

When pitching a book, it’s helpful if you have your next one or two books mapped out so the publishers knows their investment of time in you will continue to be productive. I didn’t do this, by the way.

The real work starts when you get a contract. Once you have the release date, a new phase begins: that of getting it into the hands of readers.

Much of a writer’s time is spent in peripheral activities. It begins with writing and rewriting, which includes research and fact checking. Add to this the social media demands. A writer needs some of the following, and possibly more: a blog, a presence on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest etc. Maintaining these profiles can consume a huge chunk of the day. Many writers publish regular newsletters. I haven’t waded into those waters yet.

Also there’s the very real need to keep upgrading writing skills, going to conferences, and networking. Then there’s the obvious: a writer needs to read. A lot.

I’d only read part of the job description when I decided it was time to write some stories. Just as well – it might have been overwhelming if I’d known how much was involved! It’s not too much though: you just take it one step at a time.

Thanks so much for stopping by, Libby 🙂

 

‘Rough Diamonds’ For Services Rendered.

Rough Diamonds

By Ashe Barker

cover-rough-diamondsBlurb

Christa Barnes is baffled when the man of her dreams – or should that be her wildest fantasies? – turns up at her sleepy little flower shop and insists she has something he would like to purchase. But Johan Klaas is an international diamond dealer and he is not remotely interested in acquiring a bunch of geraniums, preferring instead to discuss gemstones.

Christa’s next unexpected caller is a motorcycle courier clad in black leather and bearing a package for her. She opens it, expecting the latest seed catalogue, and finds instead a fortune in uncut diamonds and a note.

For Services Rendered. See what you can make of these.

Johan Klaas works at the heart of the global diamond trade based in Antwerp, and he agrees to use his contacts and knowledge to help trace the origins of these particular stones. For a price.

As the relationship between Christa and Johan deepens, so does her understanding of the way in which a natural, artless act of kindness years before can start an amazing chain of events.

Excerpt:

From her vantage point in the store room, Christa eyed the customer entering her small shop. Tall, rather better attired than many of the clients who would pop in to grab a bunch of daffodils or a spray of geraniums, the blond-haired stranger paused to peruse a display of bright orange and red marigolds. The arrangement was in celebration of Halloween, not a particularly lucrative festival for a florist as a rule, but Christa took the view that every little bit helps. The man did not select a bouquet, though. Instead, he abandoned the bright array to pick his cautious way through the clutter of scented blooms and approach her counter. He was careful to avoid brushing against her stock, which Christa appreciated. Flowers are delicate creatures, fragile; they do not respond well to careless handling. Not unlike me, she thought, as she stepped out into her shop to greet him.

Christa wiped her damp fingers down the green cotton of her apron and smiled a polite welcome at the man. He was really very attractive, she acknowledged. She might even go so far as to describe him as stunning. The woman on the receiving end of his floral generosity was lucky, indeed.

The object of her attention wore an expensive dark grey overcoat, which did little to conceal the perfection of the tailored black suit and pristine white shirt beneath. His tie was a subtle mix of reds and purples, which put her in mind of moorland heathers, and the brilliant sheen of his black leather shoes had caught her eye as he came through her door. He carried a dark brown briefcase, the small attaché type, and his horn-rimmed glasses gave him an air of wisdom and experience, though he could not have been much more than thirty. Thirty-five at the most. Dark brown and just slightly wavy hair reached almost to his crisp collar, but was expertly styled to ensure it lay smooth and neat against his neck. It was, in Christa’s opinion, just the right length.

She had a thing about grooming, though rarely indulged in much of it herself. There wasn’t much call for cut and blow dries in her line of work, still less manicures or eyelash tinting. Even so, she liked her men to be neat and well turned out – not that this man was hers in any but a business sense, and only then if she could manage to part him from some cash in exchange for a bunch of pretty blooms. He reeked of money, and class, and was just the sort of client she liked to cultivate. She hoped his wife had the good sense to properly appreciate an artfully-crafted bouquet.

“How can I help you?” Christa raised her eyebrows, expectantly. She was taking mental bets on the occasion to be marked, a private game she liked to play, and her money was on an anniversary. She was already mentally appraising her stock of red roses.

“Good morning.” He bowed his head slightly. “I believe you may have items I would like to purchase.”

He had an accent. It was slight, but definitely there. His English, so far, was perfect, though. Christa wondered where he was from.

“Of course. What do you have in mind? Is it for a special occasion, perhaps?” Some customers needed advice on what was appropriate. Christa was always happy to oblige.

“Occasion?” He stressed the first syllable. It sounded divine.

“The flowers? Are they for a special occasion? A birthday, perhaps?”

“Flowers? No, I do not wish to purchase flowers.”

“I see.” Perhaps he had something else in mind. A pot plant, possibly, or maybe just a card. Beyond, that his choices here were limited. “What are you looking for, then? I do have some lovely winter-flowering cyclamen in just now…”

He shook his head and bestowed a slight smile on her. “I am sure they are all quite beautiful, but no. I do not require flowers or plants, thank you. I desire diamonds.”

Christa huffed out a wry snort. “You and me both, sir. I’m sorry, but you need a jewellers’ for that.”

 

Author Interview

1.Who or what was the inspiration for Christa? Is she anything like you?

Well I’ve never entertained a desire to sell flowers, but the mystery at the heart of Rough Diamonds is based on my experience working in the care system in the UK some thirty years ago so I suppose Christa does draw on something of me.

 

  1. So, tell us a bit more about Johan. He’s stern and sexy, and obviously successful in his career, but what else is there to know?

Well, I think you just about covered the basics there. Johan is driven and successful, but he is also honest in his dealings with a strong sense of duty, and of justice. He wants Christa from the beginning, but he’s willing to work for it and takes nothing for granted. He’s kind to her, and generous, and he shares her sense of adventure and curiosity about the origins of her surprise windfall.

 

  1. How many books have you written? Are they all erotic fiction?

I think I have about forty titles out now, and yes, they are all erotic stories. Some are more BDSM themed and some are spanking/domestic discipline. At first I wrote just contemporary stories, then I started adding a few historicals and more recently I started writing sci-fi too.

 

  1. What advice would you have for writers who decide to try their hand at erotica?

I’d tell them to have a go, but to have a decent thesaurus to hand. And an internet connection. Youtube and Google are the erotica writer’s friend, and Wikipedia of course, the fount of all wisdom and knowledge.

 

  1. Do you see writing as a career?

Yes. I try to be fairly ordered about it. I like to be at my desk (well, more accurately the kitchen table) laptop fired up and coffee to hand, by nine in the morning and I tend to write for most of the day then. There are also a lot of related tasks to keep on top of, mainly to do with promo or research, or keeping in touch with readers and other authors. It’s definitely a full-time job for me.

 

  1. Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

I think it was always there, though I only started writing properly about three years ago. I have always tended to plot stories in my head though, often when sitting in traffic jams on my daily commute. I now work at home so all that time spent inhaling exhaust fumes is finally paying off.

 

  1. If you could have been told one thing that you weren’t told when you were a teenager, what would you like to have heard?

I was given lots of advice as a teenager, much of it unsolicited and not especially good. I think we all have to make our own mistakes, but hopefully I haven’t made the same mistake to many times. That would be sad.

Looking back, I think the most important thing I picked up along the way was that we all have choices, all the time. We’re entitled to choose our own way in life, but we should also be ready to own and accept the consequences of our decisions.

Someone once invited me to cast my mind forward to a time perhaps sixty years from now when I’ll be long-gone and my daughter (currently eighteen) is herself entering old age. Imagine she’s talking to her grandchildren, telling them about me. What would I like her to be saying? My actions now, today, will dictate what those obituaries might be so don’t leave it until later to be the sort of person you want to be remembered as.

 

  1. If you had to describe yourself using three words, it would be…

Resilient. Creative. Calm.

 

  1. What would you do if you were the last person on this earth?

Turn out the lights.

 

  1. If you were to write a book about yourself, what would you name it?

I think at some level or other they are all a little bit about me. I could never write a book about a heroine I didn’t actually like or identify with in some way. Maybe I’d call my autobiography Made a Difference, because I hope that would be true. Perhaps that should be on my gravestone rather than a book cover, come the day.

 

  1. What’s your favorite love story? (movie or book)

I adore Love Actually and I can’t count how many times I’ve seen that movie. It has lots of love stories all rolled up and woven into each other, but I think perhaps my favourite is the one featuring Hugh Grant.

I also remember reading Katherine by Anya Seton many years ago, and I’ve never forgotten the magic that shimmers between Katherine and her hero, John of Gaunt. Their lifetime love affair is set against the dramatic backdrop of medieval England, a period I also like to write about.

 

Buy Links         Amazon  (FREE to read on Kindle Unlimited)

 

Read Chapter One for free

 

About Ashe Barker

USA Today Bestselling author Ashe Barker writes erotic romance and spanking romance in a variety of genres including contemporary, BDSM, paranormal, historical. ménage, gay romance and time travel. She is a #1 Amazon Bestseller and all her stories feature hot alpha males and sassy submissives, often with a lot to learn. Kink abounds, and there’s enough dirty talk to satisfy the most demanding smut lover. However dark and dirty the setting, love always emerges triumphant, and her stories never fail to deliver a satisfying happy ever after.

 

Social Media Links and Newsletter sign-up

 

 Newsletter Sign-Up

www.ashebarker.com

Amazon

google.com/+AsheBarker

Facebook

Twitter  

 

 Thanks so much for stopping by, Ashe 🙂

 

 

 

 

You are my submissive partner, to be treasured, protected and revered, and also used, and teased, and disciplined as necessary.”

thealiensrules_full

Welcome, Maggie Carpenter!

BLURB

 After several months of exceptionally vivid, wonderfully sexy dreams in which she is visited by a mysterious stranger who punishes and pleasures her as he sees fit, one night Ellie awakens to find herself in an unfamiliar place. She is lying naked on a table in an odd, purple-lit room, exposed and vulnerable, and the man who looms over her is devastatingly handsome yet definitely not human.

Introducing himself as Valodar, he gently explains that he is an alien from another world and he has been visiting Ellie in what he calls the dreamscape. Certain that she is the perfect woman for him and wanting her to experience life as his mate, he invites her to stay with him, but he makes it clear that she will have to submit to him completely.

Though his warning that she will be thoroughly spanked for any disobedience gives Ellie pause, Valodar’s mere presence leaves her yearning for his touch and she cannot resist accepting his offer. She quickly learns Valodar possesses unique physical traits, and he sends her tumbling into one shattering climax after another, claiming her more thoroughly than she would have ever thought possible.

But even as love begins to blossom between the dominant alien and the feisty human girl, their growing passion is interrupted when the Earth suddenly falls under threat from a cunning and ruthless alien race. Valodar makes it clear that she must leave the matter in his hands, but can Ellie sit idly by while her world is in peril?

 

SNIPPET:

“You asked why you could find no underwear. Your body, it must be available to me. Any time I choose to reach under your dress and touch between your legs, I will. If I wish to fondle these lovely breasts and make their points sharp and hungry for my mouth, I will. Any time I want to remove your garment and gaze at your naked beauty, I will. You are my equal, but our roles are clearly defined. You are my submissive partner, to be treasured, protected and revered, and also used, and teased, and disciplined as necessary.”

EXCERPT:

Her legs were spread, his fingertips were tickling her inner thighs, and as they moved ever closer to her drenched seam, his touch began to tingle. He was sparking her skin. Ooh, how she loved it when he sparked her skin! The electric contact was drawing tantalizingly close to her womanhood, and she knew what would happen when he pressed his magic fingers against her. Feeling the heat radiating from his palm as it hovered over her sex, she was barely able to stand the anticipation; he was making her wait.

“Please,” she whispered, “please, I promise to behave.”

Those were the magic words. His mystical hand brushed across her, his thick, tingling finger slipped inside her, and the powerful orgasm swept her up, carrying her into paroxysms of glorious pleasure. He, whoever he was, had barely touched between her nether lips, but it had been enough to send her over the edge. The scintillating spasms seized her, and try as she might she couldn’t contain her cries. Would her neighbors complain; worse, would they call the police, thinking she had fallen victim to an intruder? The walls were so painfully thin. If only she had the money to move somewhere decent, but the fleeting thought quickly passed as the delicious convulsions shuddered through her body, then moments later, sinking into the after-bliss, she mumbled a ‘thank you’ to the mysterious stranger who had been haunting her nights.

 

TANTALIZING TRAILER

YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jcQApOzuIBQ

AMAZON

 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M6TNRKK/ref

BARNES AND NOBLE

 http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/1124790407?ean=2940156726721

 A BIT ABOUT MAGGIE

Male dominance/ female submission. My passion. It is that which I write about, and my alpha-males range from down-home, hunky, spanking cowboys, to fantasy, sword-wielding, warriors, and of course, artful romantic Dominants who don’t need dollars to melt their sweet subs, (even if a few of them have mega-bucks).

There’s a little bit of me in all the stories, and The British Bachelor trilogy is based on a long-distance relationship I had with a British Dominant, James Collier. When he agreed to work with me on I AM A DOMINANT, I was absolutely thrilled. This book is a first-hand account of some of his more interesting experiences, including the amusing, and intriguing story of the first time he had a woman over his lap.

I am an old-fashioned romantic, complete with my own white knight fantasies, so a red rose and heart-felt sentiment is alive and well on the pages of all my novels. If you like to sigh, please, come on in.

Last but not least, I am blessed to share my life with a precious pup, and a gorgeous mare. All creatures great and small also live close to my heart.

 

BEST OF 2015: SPANKING ROMANCE REVIEWS

WHEN A COWBOY LOVES A WOMAN (Contemporary Western)

THE  WARRIOR  AND  THE  MISCHIEVOUS  WITCH (Paranormal)

HER DOCTOR IN CHARGE (BDSM Medical)

HIS WILLFUL BRIDE (Victorian)

 MAGGIES SOCIAL MEDIA

http://www.youtube.com/channel/UC34D1JhwfFecUe6-ebPbC-w

http://www.MaggieCarpener.com

facebook.com/maggiecarpenterwriter

Twitter:@magcarpenter2

Thanks so much for stopping by, Maggie ❤