Historical romance

Why the 1920's? 🍁 🎄

A friend asked why I chose this era (the 1920’s) and this city (Victoria BC Canada) for this year’s Christmas novella.
I didn’t have a fast answer because the idea evolved slowly. It started when I was invited to participate in a pirate anthology in late 2019. I suspected that most of the stories would be about European pirates of the Atlantic/Caribbean area.
All too often my mind seeks a different response to challenges. Usually a more difficult one. So of course I decided I’d write around the rum-runners and smugglers of the Pacific Northwest. Very quickly it became apparent that I couldn’t manage that AND get The Lighthouses of Devmaer series off the ground so the pirates went on the back burner.
Earlier in 2020 I was invited to participate in a Christmas historical anthology. Once again I thought great! I immediately decided my historical period had to be Victoria in the 1920’s, because that ties in with one of the busier periods in the rum-running and smuggling world here. I bailed from that anthology when I was told the story had to be vanilla. No erotica. No kink.
I have written and been published in mainstream fiction twice before I landed here in this gauzy world of secret desires and I always felt like I was lying a bit about who I am.
So I combined some of what I learned about Victoria’s underworld with a period of history that intrigues me because of the rampant social change after WWI. Voilà – Papa Pierre’s Christmas Gift.
If readers like it enough it may develop into a full series.
It will be released soon. You can get your free copy by subscribing to my newsletter here: http://libbycampbell.com/subscribe-to-my-newsletter
Hope you love it.

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Pirates Passion & Plunder - an anthology

Here’s a deal you don’t want to miss out on! The anthology, Pirates, Passion and Plunder has gone live and for a very limited time, you can pick up this steamy collection of seventeen historical romances for only 99¢.
Here are some teasers to whet your curiosity:
What's a lady to do when she's boarded by ruthless brigands and barbarous buccaneers, kidnapped on the lawless High Seas?
Stripped to the skin by piercing eyes.
Captive and claimed by rough, strong hands.
She knows it's forbidden but how can she resist... a pirate's pleasure?

Buy link: Pirates Passion and Plunder
FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Don’t stop reading here! There is a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card – details later in this blog.

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Here’s a sample scoop from the novella Edward’s Law by Felicity Brandon
Blurb:
The Dexterity—designed to be the pride of the King’s navy, is mine.
Or, at least, she should have been, had the scoundrel Edward Law not waltzed into Christy’s auction house and stolen her from right under my nose.
But if Law thinks he can claim what rightfully belongs me to me, then he has another thing coming.
No man can make demands on me, be he gentleman, or otherwise.
I won’t concede to his dark, brooding eyes. I won’t surrender to his iron will.
Edward Law means nothing to me…

Excerpt:
Edward smiled. “As you can see, I have news of my own.”
He tilted his head in the direction of Alice, and for an excruciating moment, both men turned and regarded her. Alice’s face burned with embarrassment, and instinctively, she lowered her gaze, her attention falling on the stiff ropes at her wrists.
“A woman, Captain?”
“Very observant, Carlisle,” said Edward with a laugh. “Yes, a stowaway by the name of Alice Jaggers.”
“But a woman, sir,” the other man repeated. “It’s bad luck to have a woman onboard.”
Alice lifted her chin with interest. Bad luck, huh? This could be her way off the vessel altogether.
“Only if you subscribe to superstitions,” countered Law in an amused tone. “Which as you know, I do not. It is not luck that has brought us good fortune in the past but our own fortitude.”
Carlisle raised his brows but said nothing to protest. “How did she get on board, sir? And what are we to do with her?”
Alice’s belly twisted at the last question, her gaze darting once more to Edward Law. Until today, he was a man she had barely even contemplated—the man at the auction, a name on a list at Christie’s, but nothing more. Now, it seemed Mr. Law held Alice’s destiny in his hands, and she was heady with the new reality.
“I found her hidden in my quarters,” explained Edward as he turned to face Alice. “As for your second query, Carlisle, we are not going to do anything with her. As captain, our guest is my responsibility.”
She gulped at the way he made that sound, suddenly unsure if she should be grateful or afraid—worse was the way Alice’s body was reacting to the tattered captain. Where she had previously been disgusted by the sight of the man, she was fast becoming compelled. The weight of his stare and his authoritative presence had affected Alice in ways she could never have foreseen, and as she met his gaze again, she was perturbed by the way heat pooled beneath her gown.
“I should like you to stand guard outside my door while I address the crew.” Edward’s focus was back on Carlisle now. “I am sure you can understand I cannot have any of the men stumbling upon her by mistake.”
Carlisle turned to look at Alice, his brown eyes drilling into her. “Aye, sir,” he responded after a moment. “I can understand.”
Law moved toward him, resting his hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. “I would trust only you with this objective, my friend,” he said solemnly. “Keep her safe for me.”
“You can count on me, Captain,” Carlisle smiled, revealing two crooked front teeth. “Good. Then I must depart.” Law turned in Alice’s direction, fixing her with a hard stare. “I shall not be long, but until that time, behave yourself.”
Alice pulled in a deep breath as both men stalked from the room. She watched as the door slammed closed behind them, imagining Carlisle waiting just beyond. A potent myriad of emotions stirred as she heard what she assumed to be Law’s boots pacing away.
No man had ever spoken to her that way. Even her father had treated his only daughter with courtesy and respect when he addressed her.
Alice blinked, shaking her head as she processed what she was feeling.
On the one hand, she was embarrassed at her current predicament, entirely of her own making, and no idea how it would be reconciled, but on the other hand, she was seething with indignation at the way she had been treated. The way Law had spoken to her—dressing her down like a servant. Her face flamed as she recalled his proximity and the way he had touched her—the nerve of the man—then had somehow made her admit the error of her ways aloud. That was a feat no one had achieved before. Alice may have been guilty, but she would never have admitted such, especially to a stranger.
She sighed, eyeing the captain’s quarters as she struggled against the ropes. Being bound this way was intolerable—just like Law’s insufferable arrogance and the way he made assumptions about Alice. He assumed she would obey him and would be pliant to his plans. She snorted—the man had a lot to learn about Alice Jaggers if he thought she would remain compliant. She had not sneaked her way on board just to end up his bound captive, yet even as resentment burned in her blood, there was also something else. His commanding presence, just like the bondage, had stirred something in Alice.
Something she had not expected.
Something that felt like desire.

Here is the full list of titles and authors:

THE CAPTAIN’S CAPTIVE
by Victoria Vale
RAVEN
by Ashe Barker
ROGUE BOOTY
by Golden Angel  
THE BLOND DEVIL OF THE SEA
by Celeste Barclay
BOUGHT BY THE BUCCANEER
by Vanessa Brooks
TAKEN BY SIN
by Sky Purington
THE SEA WOLF
by Lee Savino
EDWARD’S LAW
by Felicity Brandon
PIRATE’S RUIN
by Marie Hall
OWNED BY THE PIRATE
by Sue Lyndon and Celeste Jones
TROUBLED WATERS
by Jane Burrelli
PURSUING HER PIRATE
by Jaye Peaches
HIS STOWAWAY
by Measha Stone
HIS WICKED WAYS
by S. Cinders|
CUT AND THRUST
by Simone Leigh
PIRATE’S PLEASURE
by Mariah Stone
LADY EVANGELINE’S PIRATICAL PERSUASION
by Emily Tilton

BONUS! To celebrate the launch of this gorgeous festive collection of historical romances, there's $25 of book money to whizz out to one lucky reader. Just click through to enter => http://www.lovebooksdaily.com/featured-read

The Viscount's Pet by Kryssie Fortune

If you love historical romances Kryssie Fortune’s latest book, The Viscount’s Pet may be just what you’re looking for!

Blurb

When her brother tries to force her into a marriage with a detestable baron, Julianna Halstead flees the family estate she has helped manage since the death of her parents. But as she makes her escape late at night, Juliana’s carelessness nearly results in her being trampled by a galloping horse, and the steed’s handsome rider takes it upon himself to correct her right then and there.
Though having her bottom bared and soundly spanked on the side of the road leaves Juliana blushing crimson, the punishment arouses her intensely and her body’s helpless response cannot be hidden. To make matters worse, the gentleman over whose lap she was so firmly chastised turns out to be none other than Viscount Stonehurst, someone she has known since childhood.
When Stonehurst learns of Juliana’s predicament, he decides to make her his bride. She will be no ordinary wife, however. She will be something much more shameful. But even as she is leashed, collared, and put on display in a cage wearing only a tail, then brought out to be used in ways no proper lady should enjoy, will Juliana come to love her new life as the viscount’s pet?
Publisher’s Note: The Viscount’s Pet is a stand-alone novel which shares the Regency-era setting of Wickedly Used and His Innocent Bride. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon

Or read it for FREE on Kindle Unlimited

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Excerpt:
The horse and rider appeared from nowhere.
Julianna sidestepped and dropped her bag. Her ankle twisted beneath her, and she tumbled to the ground. When the horseman tugged hard at the reins, the coal-black stallion reared, its forelegs pawed the air. She screamed and closed her eyes. Curled into a ball, she waited for its ebony hooves to pulverize her.
The rider swore, the horse whickering as it planted its feet in the dirt by her face. Tiny dust clouds rose from the road. She coughed and crablike, she scuttled to the fallen oak at the edge of the copse. The bracken smelled earthy, and the thick foliage cushioned her bruised ribs.
Her heart beat overtime when the horseman dismounted and stalked toward her. Wearing a black greatcoat and muffler, he towered over her. Grabbing her wrist, he hauled her upright.
Even in the evening twilight, his hair shone the same blue-black as a raven’s wing. His features were familiar, but she had no idea why. One glance at his steeply angled eyebrows and she wondered if he was the devil come to claim her.
Her brother would have grabbed her shoulders and shaken her until her head ached. That or hurled vile insults at her. Instead, the dark horseman’s eyes twinkled with good humor. She couldn’t decide if they were midnight blue or ebony black. Their mysterious depths and sloping eyebrows gave him a demonic air.
His high cheekbones were so sharp Michelangelo could have chiseled them from marble. There was a cleft in his square chin that she wanted to stroke. His broad, kissable lips made her want to lick and taste, but they were set in a stern, disapproving frown. If he smiled, his dark charisma would mesmerize any nocturnal creatures. Bats, foxes, and badgers would flock to his side.
His utter masculinity sent shudders along her spine. Devilish and terrifying, he emanated menace and danger. She should be shaking in fear, but he sparked wicked longings in her soul.
Untouched and innocent, she hated how her nipples pearled and damp heat creamed between her legs. She needed his lips pressed against hers and his hands on her body. For a woman who’d sworn never to marry, that scared her more than his fury. If not for his tight grip on her shoulders, she’d have run off into the night.
Her pulse still raced, but she buried her fear beneath a haughty manner. “Unhand me, sir. I’m late as it is.”
Rather than let go of her arm, he tugged her closer. He smelled of citrus fruits and freshly gathered mint. When her gaze meshed with his, lightning bolts sizzled between them. Head bent, he moved toward her. She puckered her lips in anticipation.
Blinking, he straightened abruptly. “I could have killed you, you little fool.”
Disappointment crushed her soul. Her ribs ached from Kit’s assault and her ankle throbbed from her fall. Sniffing back tears, she thought of her mother’s pampered cat and tried to out-stare him. “My apologies, sir. I should have been paying attention, not daydreaming along in the twilight. Since neither of us is hurt, we can go on our own ways.”
“Not until you’ve learned your lesson,” he snapped.
Pulling free from his hold, she rubbed her wrist. Nervous, she retreated toward her portmanteau, ready to grab it and run. Shooting forward, he hoisted her over his shoulder. The undignified position made her ribs throb. His hand splayed over her rear end, caressing and stroking it as he pinned her in place.
Five steps and he’d carried her back to the tree trunk. Once settled on it, he thrust her over his knee. “Naughty little girls who risk their lives deserve a spanking. And I’m just the man to give it to you.”

Connect with Kryssie Fortune

Website: http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie

Blog: http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KryssieFortune

Pinterest: http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

Questions and answers with Kryssie Fortune

Q Does writing energize or exhaust you?
A Definitely energize. I get bad tempered if I don’t do something to inch my writing forward every day.
Q Ballpoint or fountain pen?
A Ball point. I write in a notebook, type up, then read it through before moving on to the next chapter.
Q What time of the day is best for you as a writer?
A Anywhere, anytime. If I have a free moment I put pen to paper. A lot of my early writing was done on the bus on the way and from work.
Q Who are three of your favorite authors? 
A Kresley Cole, Georgette Heyer, and  currently J.S. Scott. The last one changes but I’ve loved the other two for years.
Q How do you research your locations?
Internet and visits. A lot of my books are set in Yorkshire, England. That’s my home county. For my Westhorpe Ridge series, I hounded friends in North Carolina to check details. For my current WIP I visited Lindisfarne in Northumberland to scout the island. (Any excuse for a weekend break with my husband.)

Jerrik, A Viking Warrior Romance by Felicity Brandon

Oh boy! Another book from the Viking Surrender series! Today Felicity Brandon joins me to talk about her book, Jerrik: A Viking Warrior Romance, Viking Surrender Book 8.

An introduction to this hot read:

Brigid: The last thing I need is a husband, especially some Viking brute commanding my surrender.
Jerrik: Fight all you want, little Pict. You will yield to my desire...
Forced into a union she didn't seek, Brigid is terrified and aroused by Jerrik's masterful behaviour and carnal demands.
But, when he saves her son from the ferocious ocean, Brigid realises he may be the hero she needs, as well as the man she craves.

Disclaimer; Jerrik: A Viking Warrior Romance is intended for mature readers. 18 and over only! Scenes include spanking adult women, power exchanges, and explicitly sexual situations. These scenes are fantasies only, suitable for discerning readers. If such content may offend, please do not read this book.

Buy link: Amazon

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Excerpt:

“You can make it up to me later,” he demanded as he sauntered towards the place where she was still kneeling. “After I have punished you for defying me.”
Brigid panted at Jerrik’s assertions, and she drew in a deep breath, as if to compose herself. “I know I am your wife now,” she murmured in response. “But I am also a grown woman, Jerrik, and a mother. I cannot have you punishing me, especially in front of Bram.”
Her tone was laced with just a hint of insolence, and it was enough to stir his already unsatisfied cock.
“You no longer have the choice,” he reminded her flatly. “You’re my responsibility now, Brigid, and our children will be of my heritage. Your defiance will be punished. It is how us Vikings deal with such things.”
She dropped the vegetables and rose unsteadily to her feet. Brigid was trembling, and Jerrik wondered if it was fear that inspired the gesture, or something else. It had been some time since Brigid had been mastered, and he was starting to wonder if her first husband had ever truly done the job. He sensed there was a part of her that wanted to yield to someone stronger than herself, but the woman had spent so long being responsible for herself and Bram, she seemed to be struggling with the new power dynamic. Jerrik could understand that. He needed to guide her.
“What will you do?” she whispered, gazing up at him with anxious eyes.
Jerrik smiled, moving towards her and taking one of those small, cold palms in his hands. “Nothing severe,” he promised. “Just enough to remind you of your place.”
“The b-birch?” she stammered, barely able to articulate the final word.
Evidently, his little wife had quite the fear of the birch, and he mused that it would be worth remembering that for future misdemeanours, of which he was sure they would be a great many.
“No,” he assured her. “Not this time.”
Brigit exhaled in apparent relief. “Then what?”
Jerrik shook his head with a grin. “I had intended to surprise you with the penance later,” he said, dropping his tone as he inched towards her body.
“Please,” she replied, craning her neck to look up into his eyes. “I’ve never done this before, Jerrik. Bram’s father never…”
She paused, lowering her gaze.
“He never punished you?” Jerrik offered.
He wasn’t well versed in Pict traditions, but it seemed ludicrous that the man had done nothing to love or guide his spouse at all.
“He never really did anything to me,” she replied with a sigh. “Apart from the obvious—usually when he had consumed too much mead. So long as I fed him on time, he generally left me be.”
“I see.” Jerrik’s tone had lowered in response to Brigid’s description. He was pleased he would never have to meet this man and make him atone for his incompetence. It seemed as though there was already enough to be done.
“You’ll find I am quite a different proposition,” he told her. “I have high expectations of you, Brigid, but I will repay your effort with my sword and dagger which will protect and provide for you, and with my body, which will honour you. I’m sure you know to what I speak, but if there was any doubt, then I hope the last evenings have reassured you?”
Brigid sucked her lower lip between her teeth at Jerrik’s words. It was clear she did remember their unions of consummation. “Yes,” she replied in a breathy tone. “I should like more of that.”
Her face flamed at the admission, and he chuckled at her embarrassment. “And you shall have it,” he told her. “Just as you shall bear my punishment.”
She swallowed, but in those hazel eyes there was a flicker of acknowledgement. “Aye, well,” she murmured. “I will try and yield, Jerrik, yet I think I am out of practise.”
Jerrik grinned at the concession. “A good, hard, bare-bottomed spanking over my knee should help you to remember,” he drawled. “Do you not think?”
Her breaths were coming out in short, fast pants. “A spanking?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Brigid closed her eyes at his edict. “Then please, Jerrik, do not make me endure it in front of my son. This is new to him also.”
Jerrik appraised her pained expression with interest. He’d never even contemplated the child witnessing her penance until now; in fact, until this morning, he’d never even contemplated having a child before.
“We shall find something to amuse him this afternoon,” he decided, raising his hand to gently tilt her chin in his direction.
The touch of his hand at her face drew Brigid’s eyes open in an instant, and for a long moment, their eyes locked.
“And once we are alone, you will learn how to submit, wife.”

More about Felicity Brandon
Felicity is a #1 international bestselling, and award winning writer of dark, spanking romance. Head in the clouds, you can usually find her either plotting her next book, hitting the gym, or rocking out to her favourite music. She lives to write though, and is happiest creating desire and kink at her keyboard.

Connect with Felicity Brandon:

Website and blog: https://felicitybrandonwrites.com/
Subscribe to her sexy newsletter here and receive links to download a FREE BDSM short story! https://www.subscribepage.com/FelicityBrandon
Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/FierceAF/
Amazon author page: https://www.facebook.com/felicitybrandonerotica
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/felicity-brandon

Rough Gentleman by Maggie Carpenter

How do you spell hot? M-a-g-g-i-e-C-a-r-p-e-n-t-e-r! To warm up your cool autumn nights, she has a new release out. Rough Gentleman is a Victorian suspense novel with enough heat to melt your Kindle! Check out the excerpt!

Blurb: Malcolm Mead isn’t the kind of man who would leave a woman out in the cold, and when a young lady dressed in little more than rags is accused of theft by one of his neighbors he decides to offer the beautiful, bedraggled girl a place to stay. But when his guest attempts to steal from him, Malcolm does not hesitate to bare her bottom and chastise her sternly and shamefully.
As he seeks to tame the wayward girl he has taken in, Malcolm cannot help noticing her body’s helpless response to his strict correction, and soon she is quivering with need as he shows her how intensely pleasurable it can be to surrender herself completely to his bold, skillful dominance. But his reluctant ward has a secret, one that could put both their lives at great risk…
Publisher’s Note: Rough Gentleman includes sexual scenes and spankings. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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Excerpt:
“While I am concerned for your welfare, I cannot possibly allow this evening to continue without administering punishment for your attempted thievery. Whether titled or not, you had no right to take that snuff box, and I have to wonder what else might be hidden beneath your dress?”
“There’s nothing, I assure you.”
Suddenly marching away from her, he locked both doors, then strode back to her.
“Connie, we will not be interrupted. Please give me the snuff box!”
“But—”
“Now!”
He could see her nervousness, but she raised her dress and removed the silver box from a makeshift pocket in her petticoat.
“Here you are,” she murmured demurely, placing it on the coffee table.
“Stand up.”
Though it took her a moment, she pushed herself up from the chair. Walking forward and standing in front of her, he noticed her eyes weren’t just green, but carried tiny flecks of brown. An unexpected blush crossed her pale face, and her lips parted as if she might speak.
Malcolm caught his breath.
A desire to wrap her into his arms and kiss her passionately had hurtled through him like lightning bolt.
He’d planned to spank her, but now he wanted to do more.
Much more.
“Kneel on the chair with your back to me,” he said sternly, “and I warn you, Connie, don’t make me repeat myself.”
“But—”
“I meant everything I said. My offer of hospitality remains, but I also meant it when I said you must be punished. Whether you choose to run away after I have disciplined you, or you accept my help, you will not leave this room until I have made sure of two things. The first, you have nothing else secreted away, and the second, you have been appropriately chastised. Now kneel on the edge of the chair, grip the arms, lean forward, and arch your back.”
She didn’t move.
“I’m going to count to three. If you’re not in position, I shall tie you over the chaise lounge near the window. One—”
Letting out a short, startled cry, she turned around and climbed on the soft cushion, taking up the pose he’d instructed.
Malcolm’s cock, already stirring, surged to life.
Not only was she beautiful and refined, as her dress fell over her bottom he could see it was wonderfully round. Whatever weight she might have lost, her backside had retained its voluptuous curves.
But he didn’t have time to dally.
Marching forward, he moved her dress up to her waist, but as he raised her petticoat he was surprised to find she wore only one. He was gazing at her drawers.
“As you can see, sir, I have nothing else hidden.
Though her voice had been tremulous, it had been tinged with defiance.
“I don’t know that for certain,” he replied firmly, reaching around her to untie the cord holding up the remaining garment. “Women have other secret places in which tiny objects can be concealed.”
“I have done no such thing!” she exclaimed, staring at him over her shoulder.
“There’s only one way to find out, Connie, and I intend to.”
“No,” she gasped as the cord came loose and he yanked down her drawers. “Why have you done this?”
“You know why, and unless you want the servants to hear you, I suggest you be quiet.”|
His remark worked. As he moved his palm over her bottom, she remained stoically silent.
“I’m going to spank you. It will be quick, but I will not hold back. Do not put your hands behind you, and I will remind you again not to yell out. Have I made myself clear?”
“Sir, you have made yourself clear, but this is wrong.”
“No, Connie, this is right. You must be punished. You’ve been stealing.”
Standing at the side of the chair, he leaned over, wrapped his arm around her waist, and landed several hard smacks to both cheeks.
“If you choose to remain here, I will not hesitate to spank you again if it’s needed.”
Without waiting for her response, he continued to rain his hand on her naked bottom, his stinging slaps covering the breadth of her backside, then finished with a torrent of swats where her thighs met her bottom. Though she’d gasped and kicked out, she didn’t scream or beg him to stop.
“I’ve finished,” he declared, rubbing her skin, “but stay as you are. I must be sure you’ve not carrying any other stolen items.”
“I promise you, sir, I have nothing,” she gasped. “Please, let me be.”
“This will only take a moment, but if you don’t cooperate I shall spank you again. Behave, and my examination will be over quickly.”
He waited for a response, but receiving none, he took her silence as surrender. Slipping his fingers into her pussy, he found her surprisingly slick, and as he pushed into her channel, he was taken aback to find no resistance. Suddenly gasping, she threw back her head, and though she didn’t cry out or try to stop him, she lewdly wriggled against his touch.
She was aroused!
Though sorely tempted to rub her clit and bring her to a climax, he didn’t know how long it might take, and it occurred to him, leaving her wanting might be of later benefit. Wishing he could free his manhood and plunge inside her, he took a long deep breath, then returned his attention to her backside.
“One last place to check,” he decreed, “then you can straighten out your clothes.”
“You can’t mean—”
But already spreading her cheeks, he inserted his finger into her dark hole. As she dropped her head into her hands, he heard a long low, moan. He waited a moment, then withdrew his hand, lifted her drawers, and reaching his arms around her, he knotted the cord.
“You took your punishment well,” he said softly, lowering her petticoat and dress, “and I’m very pleased I found nothing more.”
Wordlessly she slid off the chair, turned around, and gingerly sat down.
“Connie, do you have anything to say?”
“Indeed I do,” she mumbled, raising her eyes to meet his. “You have punished me, and you have humiliated me, but you haven’t broken me. Others have done far worse.”

More about Maggie Carpenter

USA TODAY Bestselling author Maggie Carpenter has published over sixty romance novels.
Her heroes include amorous aliens, kinky cowboys, brawny barbarians, tempting tycoons, and Harley-riding bikers. Her smart, witty, strong-willed heroines bring unexpected challenge, mystery and humor into the lives of their passionate, take-charge men.
Maggie has a history in show-business but moved from Los Angeles to the Pacific Northwest to pursue her writing. She shares her world with a beautiful mare and an adorable mutt rescued from a junkyard in Tijuana.

Connect with Maggie Carpenter

https://www.facebook.com/MaggieCarpenterWriter

http://pinterest.com/submaggie/

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

https://twitter.com/magcarpenter2

or visit her website:

http://www.MaggieCarpenter.com

Thorolf by Vanessa Brooks

This week Vanessa Brooks has taken me to a marvelous, vibrant world, that of the Vikings. Her book, Thorolf, captured me from the opening pages. If you’re looking to be carried away by an absorbing story, look no further. Book 6 in the Viking Surrender series, Thorolf is sexy, suspenseful, and romantic.

Blurb:

Ailsa, a woman scarred by the brutality of men, knowing peace only in the depths of the forest. Thorolf, a cunning warrior, as fierce as the wolves Ailsa adores. Enemies bound by marriage their attraction undeniable. But can her Viking husband mend Ailsa’s wounded heart?
A horde of battle-hardened, ferocious Nordic warriors.
A Pictish village at the mercy of its enemies.
A harrowing bargain struck for nine fearful and reluctant brides.
Delivered into Viking hands, claimed and conquered, each bride must accept that she belongs to her new master. But, as wedding nights bring surrender to duty, will fierce lovers also surrender their hearts?
The Highland wilderness is savage, life is perilous, and the future uncertain, but each Viking has sworn protection, and there are no lengths to which a man will not go to safeguard the woman he loves.
Begin the journey here...
Enter a world of suspense, seduction and adventure, told against the forbidding backdrop of medieval Scotland.
Journey together with indomitable heroes and intrepid heroines as they discover that the raging storms of fear and passion can transform into enduring devotion.
Thorolf is number six of nine powerfully seductive romances in the Viking Surrender series.
Disclaimer: Thorolf is intended for adults only. Spankings and other sexual activities represented in the book are fantasies only, intended for adults only.

Buy link: Amazon

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Excerpt:

A cold wet nose pushed into [Ailsa’s] palm. She glanced down, and there was Shadow, the wolf she had befriended, materialising in his uncanny way to comfort her.
The wolf’s yellow gaze met Ailsa’s briefly then slid away. His size and strength were reassuring to her, his thick pelt warm beneath her palm. Shadow often sensed her mood, appearing silently at her side—especially when she hunted deep within the forest. The Vikings moved again, and Shadow gave a low, growl. Ailsa released a sighing breath.
A sudden shout was followed by loud cries from the village. Ailsa neared the forest’s edge, slipping between the trees while Shadow nervously hung back.
The Viking leader appeared to be holding Eithne tightly, which told Ailsa their intentions were hostile. Readying her bow, she watched closely, swearing to let her arrow fly if anything dangerous happened.
An ominous crack of twigs behind her broke the silence. Shadow’s snarl alerted her to danger. The hairs rose on the nape of her neck. Turning, she saw nothing—then, through the trees, a man emerged. He appeared as thick as a tree trunk and just as tall. Dia! A Viking!|
His muscular chest was wide and strong, while his gaze seemed strangely wolf-like, his amber eyes intently focused upon Ailsa. Taut as the string on her bow, Ailsa lowered her weapon—gradually, carefully.
Calmly raising his arm, he spoke, seemingly without threat, although Ailsa sensed his apprehension. The Viking stretched out his palm, indicating the wolf should stand down and, to Ailsa’s amazement, Shadow sat, his threatening growl diminishing to a mere rumble of discontent.
Ailsa trembled under the scrutiny of the invader, intimidated by his superior physique. Her cheeks heated. How did a man become so muscular?
The Norseman rose to his feet gracefully and, closing the distance between them, held out his hand. At first, she refused to touch him—to trust him. His kind meant only death for her people. Had she not lost her own father during a Viking raid? But there was something about him… Hesitant, Ailsa finally accepted his aid, reaching for his hand. He pulled her up, holding her against his chest. She stared at his bronzed body, hardened by labour and war. Surprisingly, he smelled good.

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More about Vanessa Brooks

International bestselling author, Vanessa Brooks, lives in the heart of Sussex. Her passion is history and when she is not writing steamy romances, peppered with strong, sexy heroes, she spends her time out and about with her husband, eating cream teas and exploring Britain's many castles and stately homes; absorbing the past and dreaming up her next romantic plot!

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Viking Surrender - books 1 & 2 by Ashe Barker

Some very exciting news today! The Viking Surrender Series is now available! The amazing Ashe Barber has written two books in the series: Vikings Prologue (book 1) as well as Brandr A Viking Warrior Romance (book2)
Do you love hard-muscled, dominant heroes? Love Viking romance?
The steamily seductive Viking Surrender series (first released as the 'Vikings' boxed set) has hit Amazon with brand-new epilogues... so you can find out 'what happens next' for all nine couples.
If you're yet to explore this gorgeous set of shared-world romances, filled with scorching scenes of sexy sizzle and supreme alpha hotness, you've a real treat in store.
For a limited time, all the titles are on sale, and you can devour them in Kindle Unlimited. 

Find the whole series on Amazon US here - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07ZSZV1JV

and on Amazon UK here - https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07ZTM46CL

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Happy Reading... your Viking warrior book boyfriends await

Blurbs:
Vikings: The Prologue is essential reading to find out how it all began … and you can grab this 12000 word appetizer absolutely free from wherever you like to buy your ebooks.
A horde of battle-hardened, ferocious Nordic warriors.
A Pictish village at the mercy of its enemies.
A harrowing bargain struck for nine fearful and reluctant brides
Delivered into Viking hands, claimed and conquered, each bride must accept that she belongs to her new master. But, as wedding nights bring surrender to duty, will fierce lovers also surrender their hearts?
The Highland wilderness is savage, life is perilous, and the future uncertain, but each Viking has sworn protection, and there are no lengths to which a man will not go to safeguard the woman he loves.
Begin the journey here...
Enter a world of suspense, seduction and adventure, told against the forbidding backdrop of medieval Scotland.
Journey together with indomitable heroes and intrepid heroines, as they discover that the raging storms of fear and passion can transform into enduring devotion.
Brandr : A Viking Warrior Romance
Forced to wed the fierce Viking warlord in order to save her people, Eithne has no choice but to surrender to her powerful and terrifying husband. She submits to his stern discipline, but his tenderness takes her breath away. A man of his word, Brandr means to keep his side of their bargain and will see her village safe and protected from their enemies. But what of Eithne? Who will protect her as she learns to care for this ferocious man who now leads her people and holds her heart in his mighty hands?

Disclaimer: These books are intended for adults only. Spankings and other sexual activities represented in the book are fantasies only, intended for adults only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as anyone advocating any non-consensual spanking or other sexual activity.

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Excerpt from The Prologue
“We shall not surrender, nor shall we flee…. this is an unequal contest, and we cannot win. To take up arms against men such as them would lead to certain death.”
“Better to die with honour—”
“Better still not to die at all. I have another idea. We shall negotiate.”
Rhiannon gaped at her. “Are you quite mad? You would have more success seeking to bargain with a wildcat, or that wolf which Ailsa insists upon keeping.”
“They are men, not animals. They will listen to reason.”
“That is a matter of opinion. I still say—”
“For once, Rhiannon, please, just do as you are told. Put down that weapon and go hide with the others. I shall go and speak with these…these…Norsemen.”
“You are bent on this madness?”
“It is the only way…”
“Then, if you insist upon facing them, I shall be at your side. I consider this a foolhardy notion, but I will not let you go alone.”
Despite Rhiannon’s belligerent tone, Eithne had never been more pleased to have her at her side. Theirs was not an easy relationship, it never had been, but Eithne loved her sister by marriage and was proud of her courage. “Ah, my sister. I see your father in you, and your brother. I shall be glad to have you with me, but by all that is holy, you must keep quiet and let me do the talking.” Eithne turned and dashed towards the path leading down into the narrow cove where the Vikings’ ships already swooped in towards the beach. “And put that damned sword away before someone gets hurt.”
“You are muttering to yourself. What are you saying?” Rhiannon scrambled behind Eithne down the cliff path.
“I am trying to recall a few words of Norse. There were Nordic settlers close to my childhood home on Orkney, and I picked up a few phrases. I thought if I were to greet them cordially…”
“You imagine you might resolve this situation by wishing them a pleasant morning and discussing the weather?”
Eithne did not blame Rhiannon for being incredulous. She could barely believe it herself. But if words were to be her weapons, she would do her best to assemble the best ones.
They emerged from the path onto the sand and shingle, at the same instant that the leading dragon ship swept onto the beach. Already the first of the warriors were leaping over the sides into the surf, wading ashore.
“Wait here,” Eithne commanded. “And say nothing.”
She stepped forward. Alone.

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Excerpt from Brandr
“Lady, what are you doing out here?”
She did not see him but heard his low growl from deep within the forested area to the south of their settlement. Eithne stood a moment, and Brandr appeared from among the trees.
She gasped, stepped back. She had momentarily forgotten just how large he was, how menacing. Brandr’s hand shot out to catch her just in time or she would have tumbled backwards into the undergrowth.
“Steady. I do not wish your bottom to be already covered in bruises before I have an opportunity to take a switch to your tender flesh.”
“A…a switch?” Sweet Jesu, she had not bargained on that. A hand-spanking, perhaps…
“Aye. And you may consider yourself fortunate it is not to be worse.”
“Worse? In what way might it be worse?” she wondered aloud.
“You will be punished within the confines of our home. The rest of your people will no doubt hear your cries, but they will not witness your punishment with their own eyes.”
Eithne stared at him, his hard features illuminated by the lamp she still held, though her hand shook. She supposed she should thank him but could not bring herself to do so. His next words rendered such a response unnecessary.
“I see no cause to bare my wife’s body for all to enjoy. Your nudity will be for my eyes alone.”
“You are a savage, Jarl. A barbarian,” she blurted before she could think better of it. “You say these things to frighten me.”
“I say these things because they are true. And were I truly a savage, you would not be standing in front of me pointing the matter out. You would have already tasted the Norse justice you seem so certain of.”
“I do not understand…”
He sighed and released his grip on her arm. “And I do not understand what brings you out so late. Is there a problem, lady?”
“No. I just… I wondered where you were and…and if you needed me to tell you which cottage is mine. Ours.”
“I think you may rely upon me not to become lost. I know which dwelling is yours, Eithne.”
“You mean to share it with me?”
“Of course.”
“This night?”
His lip quirked, the expression caught in the lamplight. “You seem eager, little Pict. Can it be that you imagine you might distract me from administering your punishment by offering me the delights of your body?”

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Branwyn's Love by Daryl Devoré

Fresh off the press from Daryl Devoré, another hot read: Branwyn’s Love (previously released under the name Black Dorn, published by New Dawning).

Blurb

A woman is sold as a courtesan in training. Branwyn arrives in a new land to begin daily lessons in the bewildering art of bedding a man.
After the noblewoman chosen to be Prince Malacke’s bride rejects him by bedding his hated rival, Malacke turns his anger towards increasing the power and wealth of Black Dorn castle. And he succeeds until his attention is captured by the face of the woman who will be his queen.

Disclaimer: Branwyn’s Love is intended for mature readers, 18 and over. Scenes include spanking adult women, power exchanges, and explicitly sexual situations. These scenes are fantasies only, suitable for discerning readers. If such content may offend, please do not buy this book. 

Buy link: Amazon

Excerpt
“Excellent. Now we begin your first and most important lesson - tragor. In your language, it has many meanings. But I believe duty is a good word. Through your duty, you must submit. Submission is your tragor. Do you understand what that word means?”
“Yes, Duna Trea. I am a very obedient person. When my aunt or uncle requested I do something, I did it without question.”
“But yesterday I told you not to speak to anyone unless spoken to first, yet you disobeyed me. And did it to Gon-Dra Malacke.”
“I am sorry,” said Branwyn. “I was frightened and confused. I…I did not know who he was. But Leah explained these things to me.”
“So, do you state that you understand tragor?”
She closed her eyes and nodded.
“Then stand and remove your upper garments. Unlace your bodice, let it and your sleeves drop to your waist.”
With trembling fingers, Branwyn tried to comply, but the laces refused to undo.
Duna Trea waited while Branwyn fumbled with the laces. “Now your shift. Expose your body.”
Branwyn’s muscles stiffened. A chill swept through her. “But I will be naked! One should not expose one’s body to another. It is against the—”
A flash of anger filled Duna Trea’s eyes.
Remembering Leah’s instructing and her discomfort, Branwyn did not want to cause any more pain to her. Surely, Duna Trea knows it is wrong to expose oneself. She paused, hoping her duna would rescind the order.
“Tragor.” One anger-filled word hung in the room.
Eyes squeezed shut, and bottom lip trembling, she reached for the bow to loosen the front of her shift, tugged on the right sleeve and removed her right arm. She gripped the material in her underarm and lowered the left sleeve. Placing her arms in front of her breasts, hands clasped under her chin, she raised her elbows, letting the material drop.
“Lower your arms.”
Three simple words cut Branwyn like knives. She tried to drop her arms, but the muscles refused to obey. Tears slipped between closed lids and trickled down her cheeks.
“Tragor, Dune.”
With every muscle fibre fighting the motion, Branwyn lowered her arms but held her hands clasped before her.
“Place your hands behind your back. Complete exposure. Good girl. Now step this way.”
Duna Trea stood next to Malacke.
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Branwyn stepped over and stood next to Trea. “Have you ever touched a man?”



Connect with Daryl Devoré

Her Celtic Masters by Ashe Barker

Merry Christmas! If anyone knows can deliver a rollicking romance well told, Ashe Barker is that person. She’s here today with another exciting novel you won’t want to miss: Her Celtic Masters.

Two fierce Celtic Warriors with a thirst for vengeance, and the proud Viking lady with the strength to submit.

Blurb:
Left penniless and without a home by a sudden, tragic turn of events, twenty-year-old Kristin Lofnsdottir plans to start a new life as a seafaring trader. If she is going to have any chance at surviving, however, let alone succeeding, she'll need money and capable men to protect her. A partnership with a pair of Celts offers both, but Kristin quickly realizes that the arrangement will mean sharing much more than just her profits. The two stern, handsome brothers intend to make her theirs, demanding obedience, punishing defiance, and mastering her beautiful body together.
Though Nyle and Bowdyn have been given plenty of reason to hate Vikings over the years, conquering the feisty, headstrong Kristin proves even more satisfying than they had anticipated. As they claim her ever more thoroughly and shamefully, her need for them only grows more intense, but can they be firm enough to tame her recklessness before it puts them all in danger?

Publisher's Note: Her Celtic Masters is a stand-alone sequel to Conquered by the Viking. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon

Excerpt:

“Open your legs, little Viking.” The command was softly spoken, yet firm. Nyle expected her to obey.
So, she did. She planted her feet on the mattress between Nyle’s long legs and parted her knees.
Bowdyn chuckled. “A tolerable effort, but we can do better.” He took her left ankle and lifted it over Nyle’s leg then set it down on the outside of his brother’s thigh. He repeated the action with her other ankle, then set his hands at her waist to ease her further up Nyle’s body. Thus positioned, Nyle had ample access to her breasts. He could toy with her, torture her nipples as he pleased, whilst at the same time her thighs were spread wide for his brother. “Ah, yes,” Bowdyn confirmed, “much better.”
“Is she wet?” enquired Nyle pleasantly enough.
Bowdyn drew the flat of his palm between her legs, pausing to part the lips of her pussy as though to particularly examine that spot, then rubbed the heel of his hand on the sensitive nubbin at the front.
Kristin stifled a squeal. She knew of that place, had discovered it for herself whilst bathing, but no hand apart from hers had ever ventured there. Baldvin Ryggiason had shown not the slightest interest in exploring his bride’s more sensual desires. Until these last few minutes she, herself, had been largely unaware such urges existed. Certainly, the powerful nature of her own arousal had been a mystery to her. These Celts were a revelation indeed.
“Yes, she is wet.” Bowdyn raised his hand to show his brother.
“Did I not tell you it would be so? It takes but a gentle tug on her nipples,” Nyle paused to squeeze and twist again by way of demonstration, “and she gushes like a waterfall. I believe the staid, proper, and very stern Kristin Lofnsdottir is nothing more than a wanton at heart. Is this not so, little Viking?”
Wanton? The very word sent her senses reeling. Could he be right? Oh, she most sincerely hoped so though the words became lodged in her throat. She could not answer. She could only feel.
“Open the lips of her cunny and put your fingers inside her. I believe this is what she would like. Am I right, my Viking?”
Freya, help me… The silent plea went unanswered. Kristin had to shift for herself in this matter. So, she did. She nodded.
“There, it is as I thought. But be gentle, brother. I get the impression our Viking is unaccustomed to such treatment.”
Kristin could have blessed Nyle for his perceptiveness. It was as though he had somehow crawled into her mind and knew all her secrets, her desires as well as her fears.
Her brief interlude of clarity and coherence shattered the moment Bowdyn spread her nether lips with his fingers and inserted one long digit into her tight channel. She expected to flinch, to hurt. Her previous experience of this act, though infrequent, had been sufficient for her to know she found it uncomfortable, painful even. And oddly disappointing.
All those doubts and uncertainties were swept aside in the surge of pleasure that threatened to engulf her. Bowdyn withdrew his finger then drove it deep again, harder this time, faster.
“If this hurts, you may tell us,” whispered Nyle.
“It… it does not hurt,” she managed. “Oh. Oh!”
Bowdyn increased the speed of his thrusts and added a second finger. The friction was unbearably sweet yet still not enough. Kristin squeezed her inner walls around his long digits and circled her hips.
“I believe our Viking is rather enjoying this. Is that not also correct, Kristin?”
Must she answer? Could she? Was she truly enjoying what was happening to her or was it some other compulsion that drove her to thrust her hips forward and consider begging for more?

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.

Seduced Under The Mistletoe - various authors

It just wouldn’t be Christmas without some new romances to warm our dark winter nights. Seduced Under The Mistletoe brings sixteen hot stories to spread some cheer this holiday season.

Blurb:

From the snowbound Highlands to candlelit ballrooms, follow our feisty heroines as they unmask secret identities, scorn etiquette, and defy danger. See them submit to fierce warriors, sinful scoundrels, and masterful lords.
This boxed set will be available for just three months, so don’t miss out. Indulge in sixteen all-new novellas that will leave you longing for more than twelve nights of Christmas.

Disclaimer: Intended for mature readers. 18 and over only! Scenes include spanking adult women and explicitly sexual situations. If such content may offend, please do not buy this book. 

Buy link: Amazon

Featuring authors from around the globe:
Ashe Barke
Amy Rose Bennett
Vanessa Brooks
Em Brown
Ellie St. Clair
Nicola Davidson
Emmanuelle de Maupassant
Brandy Golden
Gracie Malling
Viola Morne
Carole Mortimer
Emily Murdoch
Jaye Peaches
Stacy Reid
Lauren Smith
Scarlett Scott

We hope you enjoy unwrapping these sixteen gorgeous novellas. Our authors, hailing from all over the world, are thrilled to have come together to create this sizzling set of historical romances. These stories appear chronologically, opening with a Viking tale, travelling through the centuries, and concluding in 1903.

Yuletide Yielding – by Ashe Barker
She shares his bed and he has her heart. Lynet is a powerless thrall in Stian’s household, property to be bought or sold on a whim. She adores her Viking master and knows he cares for her. But this Yuletide he is to wed and that changes everything…
Trusting Her Highland Laird – by Brandy Golden
Laird Gallagher loves his feisty Scottish beauty just as she is, but Eileen wishes to overcome her terror of the dark, and demonstrate her trust, by donning a blindfold. Will the experiment drive her fear deeper, or can he prove to her that love conquers all.
Duke of Christmas – by Ellie St. Clair
The Duke of Ware has avoided his betrothed for as long as possible in pursuit of pleasure -- until one fateful meeting. Christmastide takes on new meaning as the man who cares for nothing sets out to win his future wife.
A Christmas Masquerade – by Vanessa Brooks
The French revolution left behind a damaged angel. A bewildered child. A man in despair. Can the bitter Yuletide winds drive a Christmas miracle? Will there be enough seasonal magic to heal all three?
Peril with a Prince – by Emily Murdoch
Prince Éduard of Aviroux is hunting down the Great Whisperer – the spy helping the French nobility escape the guillotine – when thwarted by the delectable Giselle. He's never seen a woman like her: resourceful, cunning, and ready for a fight. What he doesn't realise is that she's just the spy he's looking for. Trapped on an island together, will Éduard discover Giselle's terrible secret - or will he reveal some of his own?
Her Mistletoe Promise – by Jaye Peaches
Sent home from the battlefields of the Napoleonic Wars, disgraced Lieutenant Elias Seton catches the attention of gregarious Jenny Templeton, who has fled London following a scandal. Determined to cheer him up, and with little thought for her reputation, Jenny seduces the officer and promises to keep him company every night between Christmas Day and Twelfth Night.
After their first night together, she discovers Elias is a demanding master of the bedroom. Will she be able to fulfill her promise, and what if her family discover them together?
Mistletoe Mistress – by Nicola Davidson
England, December 1813: Miss Rachel Lindsay is desperate. Abandoned at an isolated country inn on a snowy Christmas Eve, her only hope is a wealthy, stern, and sinfully handsome stranger—masquerading as her husband. Awaiting a carriage repair, Arran Elliott, Marquess of Kyle needs lodgings. And, it seems, a wife. But when their bargain turns into nights of scorching passion and sensual discipline, he can’t let the spirited and curvy beauty go. His—and her—secrets be damned…
The Gentleman’s Seduction – by Lauren Smith
Martin Banks wins a woman in a wager – the daughter of his most hated enemy, yet her spirit and passion remind him of how much he longs for love, in this Regency Christmas tale.Bastian’s Surrender – by Carole Mortimer
Abigail Brown's first meeting with Lord Bastian Forbes, the Earl of Shaftesbury, is to find him tied naked to a bed at the notorious Club Venus, where she now works. The following evening, she learns he is to be the gentleman who claims her virginity. But things are not always as they appear, and despite the unusual start to their acquaintance, Abigail quickly finds herself falling in love with the arrogant earl. However, once the earl learns of her true identity, she has every reason to believe he will never return her feelings.
My Lady of Misrule – by Amy Rose Bennett
When widowed countess Minerva, Lady Harlow, discovers a devastating secret about her late husband just before Christmas, she turns to trusted friend Sir Tristan King for support. However, when a long-denied desire flares to life—and Minerva and Tristan agree to a Twelfth Night tryst—Tristan worries a secret of his own will ruin a treasured friendship. But then again, perhaps this shared night of wicked, unbridled passion will spark an everlasting love...
A Wicked Christmas Wish – by Em Brown
In this wickedly hot Regency, a husband betrayed ventures into the realm of domination and submission to claim his estranged wife. But will his intentions to satiate his burning desires backfire and ruin Christmas?
A Bluestocking for Christmas – by Viola Morne
Addy Blye is pretty, clever, and poor. When her ailing father can’t undertake his newest contract, Addy decides to impersonate him. Arriving in Cornwall, she meets the Duke of Trelawney, who is furious at her deception. Handsome and powerful, he stirs Addy’s darkest desires, but can she trust the duke with her heart?
The Marriage Game – by Gracie Malling
In Victorian England, a Christmas parlour game goes awry when Anna, a virtuous young lady, finds herself upended over the lap of David, her best friend’s rakish older brother. Now, it’s Christmas two years later and David has returned home from the British Army determined to make Anna his bride. But can she trust that he’s serious, or is this just another of his games? Wicked Deeds on a Winter Night – by Stacy Reid
Primrose Markham and Captain Gabriel Northcote cannot deny the burning hunger between them. Will a wicked night of passion on a winter's night lead to the greatest love? Or only to betrayal?
The Night Before Scandal – by Scarlett Scott
When a handsome lord and an eccentric lady meet in the midst of a blizzard at a country house party, scandal is not far behind. What happens in a carriage does not always stay in a carriage, and Lord Harry and Lady Alexandra are forced to make a match to avoid ruination. Will they find true love together by Christmas day?
Master of the Moor – by Emmanuelle de Maupassant
After more than twenty years in exile, Lord Mallon returns to his native Dartmoor – a place vast and barren and mysterious – and there meets the charming Comtessa de Rosselline. Neither believe in love, but the attraction between them is immediate, and irresistible. Can they defy the ghosts of the past, allowing their tempestuous affair to become something more?

Excerpt from Yuletide Yielding by Ashe Barker
He paused, eyed her with a curious blend of exasperation and something else also. Something softer, warmer, more compassionate. “You did not hope to wed me yourself, did you? You must realise that is impossible.”
“I know that. I have never said—”
“But you have wanted it? Wished it could be so?”
“Perhaps,” she whispered. “But I am not a fool. I am a thrall. Vikings do not marry thralls.”
“They do, on occasion. But I am not merely a Viking. My brother is the jarl. I have responsibilities. Even so, I do not wish to hurt you, and I would prefer that you could be content with what we have.”
But even if you are not, it is happening anyway. The words lay unspoken between them.
His expression hardened. “I have said all I wish to on this matter. We will not speak of it further.”
“Very well.” Resigned to her situation since she could not alter it, and to her coming punishment, Lynet stared at her bare toes. “Do you want me to take off my clothes?” Apart from the blanket and Stian’s cloak, she wore only her thin, rough woollen night smock.
“I do. Then you may arrange yourself across my lap.” Stian started to unfasten the leather belt around his waist.
“You would beat me with your belt?” Lynet recoiled. “I had thought you meant just to spank me.”
“Disobedience alone would have merited a spanking. Your dishonesty requires something a little sterner by way of correction. So, you will undress then come here, Lynet, and accept your punishment.”
More about Ashe Barker
Ashe Barker wiles away her time in the wilds of Yorkshire, England, writing smutty books and drinking Earl Grey tea. She loves writing historical stories and has a particular passion for hot, sexy Vikings.
When not writing Ashe enjoys digital photography, reading erotic stories, pole dancing (though not especially well), and listening to Bon Jovi. Loud.