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

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

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

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.

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!

Connect with Vaness Brooks:

Amazon author page

Website:  http://vanessanovels.weebly.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/@blushingvanessa

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/450003.Vanessa_Brooks

Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/vanessa-brooks

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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

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.

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.

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?”

Vikings - a box set from a group of stellar authors!

Hang on to your hats! Filled with action and suspense, the Vikings are waiting for you.
Battle-hardened and broad-chested, with arms strong enough to sweep you off your feet, these warriors are pure muscle, with shoulders built for carrying you to bed.
Nine great authors have created this shared-world series of supreme alpha hotness: Ashe Barker, Lily Harlem, Felicity Brandon, Gianna Simone, Vanessa Brooks, Sassa Daniels, Sky Purington, Emmanuelle de Maupassant and Jane Burrelli.

Here’s a taste of some of what lies inside:

A tiny Scottish settlement at the mercy of its enemies.
A harrowing bargain struck for nine fearful and reluctant brides.
Delivered into Viking hands, the brides of Achnaryrie now belong to their conquering masters 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.
Against the forbidding backdrop of medieval Scotland, join these indomitable heroes and intrepid heroines as they discover that the raging storms of fear and passion can transform into enduring devotion.
Disclaimer: Vikings, a boxed set of nine 'enemies to lovers' shared-world romances features happily-ever after endings, and some very steamy scenes, including elements of discipline.
All-new and exclusive.

Buy link: Amazon

This collection is capturing readers’ hearts all over the world. With a rating of 4.52 stars with over 170 reviews on Goodreads, some the reviewers have said:

‘Hot alpha Vikings, strong feisty brides and steamy sex; what’s not to love?’
‘I couldn’t stop reading’
‘Caught my attention immediately’
‘The world building is phenomenal’

Teaser snippets from the Prologue

The Vikings were merciless, murdering barbarians. And they were here.
With a despairing sob, Eithne turned from the sight below. She could still run, might be able to make it into the depths of the forest before the first of the raiders reached the village. She had perhaps a few minutes…
“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.”
“By your presence here, I surmise you wish to speak with me.” He leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Or, if you prefer, there is still time to run for your life.”
“You would catch me,” she countered.
“Aye, probably.”
“And kill me.”
“It may not come to that.”

Intrigued, amused, and not a little astonished, Brandr folded his arms to regard her. “A bargain? You seek to bargain with me?”
“I do.”
The female held his gaze, an accomplishment which eluded many of his most hardened warriors. His respect for her audacity and fortitude nudged upwards. “Go on.”

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.

Connect with Ashe Barker:

Newsletter sign-up

www.ashebarker.com

Facebook

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

The Viking's Possession by Felicity Brandon

Felicity Brandon has a new book out and you know what that means – a sizzling new romance! Today The Viking’s Possession is in the spotlight.

War captured her, desire captivated her, but can her Viking captor truly possess her?

Blurb:

After she saves the life of Prince Anders, the Viking warrior who took her as his captive and tamed both her body and her heart, nineteen-year-old Princess Aurelie of Donrose knows that she can never return home again. She will belong to Anders forever, as his bride and his possession, destined to be used and enjoyed as thoroughly, shamefully, and often as he pleases.

Though Anders has proven many times that he is more than willing to punish her bare bottom harshly for any disobedience, with war fast approaching between her brother and her husband, Aurelie puts her own life in danger in the hopes of making peace. But when her reckless gamble goes wrong, can Anders rescue his headstrong young wife before any harm comes to her?

Publisher’s note: The Viking's Possession is the sequel to The Viking's Conquest, but can be read as a stand-alone novel. It includes spankings, and sexual scenes, including some scenes of sexual humiliation. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon

Excerpt:

Ignoring me, Anders presses on, pushing the phallus inside my ass. I buck against my bondage as it invades me, utterly conflicted by the experience. The ropes make it impossible to prevent this intrusion, and we both know it. This is why Anders has chosen to secure me in such a bizarre way. My sex and my ass are totally exposed, and vulnerable to his every dark desire.

“Feel my phallus claim you, my sweeting.” His voice floats from down between my legs. “You will take this for me for the rest of this punishment, and whilst you do, you’ll remember who is in charge. You’ll remember who can touch, claim, and explore, and who must yield, receive, and endure.”

I groan again, my head now flat against the bedding as the stone fills my ass. It’s not the largest implement, and Anders’ manhood is certainly longer, but the hard, cold stone is different to what I’m used to. It’s odd and unsettling, reinforcing Anders’ point with perfect clarity—he is in charge. He is in control. All I can do is take it, take the phallus and take my punishment.

Once he is finally satisfied that I have taken the length of the stone, Anders swats my ass playfully. “Good girl,” he says teasingly. “You will keep that phallus in place until I tell you otherwise.” His body shifts and his face comes into view over my bound body. “Do you understand?”

I’m nodding even before I’ve had time to process his question. This is what Anders does to me. He takes my usual clear-headed wilfulness and turns it to mush. I can argue, I can push and protest, but in the end, I know I will always submit to this man. “Yes, I understand, my Lofðungr,” I murmur.

He nods, smiling as he leans down to plant a chaste kiss on my panting mouth. “Now, let me pleasure you some more…”

His body slips from view and I squirm needlessly in my ropes. It’s like I cannot keep still because I know now what he has in mind. He doesn’t want to pleasure me at all, he only wants to build me up to the brink of ecstasy, before abandoning the pursuit. He wants to torture me with denial—that is my punishment. As his mouth descends to my pulsating sex once more, I’m overwrought with misery. His ministrations are amazing, his tongue flicking over my excited nib at perfect intervals, whilst the phallus fills my ass in its hard and denigrating way.

Within a moment I am right there again. My mind reels, and I consciously try to control my breathing, reasoning that I can fool Anders. Perhaps if I don’t make my burgeoning pleasure so obvious, I can trick him into thinking I am not at the brink. Perhaps I can achieve my orgasm after all? The idea gives me a glimmer of hope. I close my eyes, willing myself to remain as calm as I can in light of his merciless pursuit of my suffering, but oh, Gods, it’s just too good. Before I know what is happening I am panting again, my nipples beading painfully as Anders takes me right to the brink, before—inevitably—stopping short of allowing me to climax.

This time I screech in frustration, not caring what the consequences of my outburst will be. Damn him! Damn this man who has captured me in just about every way possible. It’s as though this Viking can read my mind, and he knows instinctively when I am about to explode. He is the only man who has ever known me carnally, and it seems he is truly at one with my body.

“Now, now, Aurelie,” he tells me, admonishing me in a gleeful way. “What did I warn you about that pretty little mouth?”

My eyes fly open, and I moan out of instinct, my hips—still rolled forward by the bondage—struggling desperately for some stimulus as Anders shifts from the bed. I’m vaguely aware of him stripping beside me, and then he disappears from my view, striding to the other side of the room. By the time he returns, I’m desperate. The weight of the contradiction afflicts me. The same things that irritate and repel me—the strange bondage, the phallus shoved inside me, and the unrelenting denial of pleasure—also arouse me. I know without needing to check that I am soaking with desire. Anders is playing my body like an instrument.

“Open up, my sweeting,” his voice coos from my left side.

I blink up at his towering naked form. His body is hard, chiselled perfection, and his cock juts out eagerly in front of him. My eyes dart to his hand, which he presents to me. Between his thumb and forefinger is one of the small orange fruits he had taunted me with in the Viking camp. My belly knots in anxiety. I know what is coming next.

“Now, Aurelie,” he tells me, his tone increasingly insistent.

My lips part slowly, my breath shaky with apprehension as I comply.

The expression on Anders’ face is pure lust as he appraises me. “I warned you, my sweeting,” he purrs, and I watch as the fruit moves into view, descending slowly toward my waiting mouth. “I asked for silence, and since you cannot comply, instead I offer you fruit. I’m sure you remember my favourite fruit, Aurelie.” He chuckles at his own words. “I always keep a bowl of fresh fruit in my chambers.”

If he expects a reply, then he gives me no time to offer one. The orange fruit slides perfectly into my mouth, capturing my teeth around its soft flesh. He grins down at me, satisfied with what he sees, and I do not try to resist. The fruit, I suppose, is inevitable. He must have known I would never be able to contain my responses during this penance, even if I hadn’t. This is what Anders had planned all along.

The realisation makes me wretched, or at least it would do if I wasn’t so intolerably turned on.

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/

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Held In Custody by Ashe Barker

Ashe Barker joins me today with her latest book, Held in Custody a steamy time travel story.

His job is to protect. He intends to do his job, whether she likes it or not

Blurb: When he encounters an injured young woman while on a motorcycle ride on the small Scottish island of North Uist, police officer Finn Olsen immediately comes to her aid, but to his surprise her dialect proves all but incomprehensible to him. To make matters worse, she first tries to run and then does her best to stab him with a dagger after he catches her.

Recognizing that the woman is confused and distraught, Finn disarms her, handcuffs her, and brings her back to the local police station, which doubles as his home. Once she is in his custody, however, it quickly becomes clear that his beautiful, feisty prisoner comes from a very different era, and that she has somehow travelled forward in time more than a thousand years.

Finn takes it upon himself to keep the headstrong girl safe in a completely unfamiliar world, even going so far as to bare her bottom for a sound spanking with his belt when she attempts an escape. Despite her situation, she is deeply aroused by his bold dominance, and when he claims her properly she is left utterly spent and satisfied. But as they unravel the mystery of her arrival in the twenty-first century, will their discoveries bring an end to their newfound romance?

Publisher’s Note: Held in Custody includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon  

Excerpt

He patted his lap and waited for Eira to resign herself to the inevitable. It did not take long. Eira edged forward from the head of the bed and eventually threw herself face down across his knee.

Finn lifted the towel to reveal the curved perfection of her bottom. He had, of course, had occasion to admire her body in the shower, though between the T-shirt and his own annoyance that opportunity had been limited. He took his time to savour her now.

Eira flinched when he laid his palm on the soft, tender skin of her buttock. He squeezed, then reached for the belt which he had laid beside him on the bed. Finn took the precaution of hooking his leg over both of hers to ensure she remained in place, and with his spare hand he held her wrists in the small of her back. He usually derived considerable pleasure from taking his belt to a willing woman and he was only marginally less enthusiastic about administering a decent disciplinary spanking. Now that he had Eira laid across his lap, waiting, he was ready to admit that this was where he had wanted to see her right from the moment he had set eyes on the woman on the road. Even so, he thought it best to get this done with quickly. It was late, they both needed to get some sleep.

Eira yelped when the first stroke landed. She wriggled and squirmed on Finn's lap but he held her fast. After a few moments she settled and he delivered the second stroke. This time she whimpered but did not struggle. The third and fourth strokes were met with first screams, then sobbing. By the fifth she lay limp, weeping, her bottom sporting five vivid crimson stripes.

Finn laid the belt aside and traced each red wheal with his fingertips. He was gentle, but she hissed with pain even so.

"I am sorry, " she gulped. "I will obey."

"I know," murmured Finn. "I know you will. And now, you know what will happen if you don't."

"I am sorry, also, for the knife."

"That's done with, I told you. It doesn't matter."

"I am sorry, even so."

Finn eased her to her feet, then held her elbows until he was sure she was steady. "All is forgiven. You have been punished and we will not talk of it again, the knife or you disobeying me." He pulled her to him in a hug then smiled up at her. "You must be tired. It is very late. I made a bed for you."

"I know, in the prison."

"No, not there. In another room. You can use it until you have somewhere else to stay." He stood up and held out his hand. Eira took it, and he led her from the room.

"This is for me?" She gazed at the small but perfectly serviceable spare bedroom.

"Yes. You can sleep here. I'll bring your clothes when they're dry but until then you'll have to borrow more of mine."

"May I stay with you?"

"What?"

"May I sleep in your bed? With you?"

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.

Connect with Ashe Barker:

Newsletter sign-up

www.ashebarker.com

Facebook

Twitter

BookBub

Instagram

Pinterest

Goodreads

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

Her Celtic Captor by Ashe Barker

Ashe Barker is back today with more of her deliciously wicked erotic fiction. Her Celtic Captor is a rich tale set in the times of the Vikings. The fact that scientists have recently confirmed that one Viking warrior originally assumed to be a man was in fact a woman, makes Ashe Barker’s story of a powerful Viking chief.

"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."

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:

With his free hand he swept the length of her pale blonde hair back from her face and offered her a tight smile.

"Let me go. Do not touch me..." Her voice hitched, panic starting to bubble forth.

He had expected as much. Taranc softened his features. "You are safe, lady, apart from the whipping you have earned, naturally."

Her eyes widened. "Wh-whipping. What do you intend to do?"

"We are at eight strokes, I believe, by my reckoning." He glanced over his shoulder. "We shall use the mast, I think..."

"The mast? What? You cannot—"

It was time to be firm, to assert his authority if they were to have any peace on this voyage. "Lady, you do not command here. I do, and I have already warned you of the consequences if you disobey or otherwise vex me. Eight strokes. Now, get up."

He released her wrists and rose to his feet. He did not miss the startled widening of her eyes when she found herself staring at his semi-erect cock, the darkening of her pupils as the implications of his arousal sank in. He could not help his response to her and was not about to apologise for it, but he did not need her to succumb to panic now. Taranc grinned at her as he retrieved the blanket and tied it around his waist again then offered her his hand to assist her up. She was not reassured. Brynhild shrank away from him, shaking her head. "No, please do not do this. I am sorry, I—"

"Up. Now." The sudden evaporation of her previous belligerence was not lost on him. Neither was her shock at the sight of his erection but Taranc was not entirely convinced. He would not put it past her to dissemble, to seek to manipulate him even now. He deliberately hardened his tone. "You may submit willingly, or not, but the end will be the same." He leaned down to offer his hand again.

Brynhild groped behind her for the blanket and managed to snag a corner of the fabric. She clasped it around her once more as she scrambled to her feet, ignoring his offer of assistance. Her chin tilted at a defiant angle as she glared at him, then eyed the mast with distaste. So much for her nervous apprehension and apparent contrition.

Taranc gestured to her to precede him to the mast where Eileifr waited with a length of narrow rope. Her steps slow, Brynhild did as he instructed, coming to a halt below the billowing sail. She looked up, then back over her shoulder at Taranc. "Shall I lean against it, then?"

"You will hug the mast, lady, and Eileifr if you would be so good as to secure her wrists? Not too tight, but we must be sure she will not shift at an inopportune moment."

"That will not be necessary, I—"

“Eileifr." At Taranc's curt command the karl stepped forward and reached for Brynhild's wrists. She stepped away from him, her eyes blazing.

"Keep your hands off me. I will not permit this." She tucked her hands further within the folds of the blanket.

Taranc had heard enough. He leaned forward to murmur in her ear. "Ten, lady. And the count will increase with every act of defiance, every refusal to obey. Are you really so set on adding to your punishment? You will spend a great deal more time than you might care to imagine lashed to that mast if you do not have a care."

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.

Connect with Ashe Barker:

Newsletter sign-up

www.ashebarker.com

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Pinterest

Goodreads

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

Her Dark Viking by Ashe Baker

Turn up the air conditioning, Ashe Barker has a new book out. Her Dark Viking is another installment in this historical series.

He saw her. He wanted her. So he returned to take her

Blurb:

After she is captured by Viking raiders, twenty-five-year-old Mairead is left with no choice but to depend on Gunnar Freysson, the battle-hardened leader of the Norsemen, to protect her and her young children. Though he makes it clear that she is his property to do with as he pleases, Gunnar shows remarkable concern for Mairead’s wellbeing, and when she risks her life in a dangerous attempt at escape he does not hesitate to strip her bare and spank her soundly.

The strict punishment leaves Mairead thoroughly ashamed yet helplessly aroused, and when Gunnar takes her in his arms and claims her properly she cannot deny her body’s response to his dominant lovemaking. As the days pass, Mairead realizes that Gunnar cares for her deeply, and despite her situation she finds herself falling in love with the stern, handsome warrior. But can she truly give her heart to the man who took her from her home?

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

Buy Link: Amazon

Excerpt:

Would a spanking hurt as much as his belt had? Did he perhaps intend to use his belt again? He had not said, she simply assumed he would--

"Lie across my lap and lift up your sark."

He interrupted her musings with his curt instruction. Gunnar had seated himself on the edge of the bed, where just a few moments ago Donald had sat. The Viking regarded her over his shoulder, his eyes as dark as she had ever seen them and his expression stern.

She had questions, her head brimmed with them, but she supposed all would be answered soon enough. He kept his belt on, which was a relief she supposed. Mairead slipped from the bed and came around to stand before him.

"Shall I take this off?" She plucked at the fabric at the front of her undershirt.

"No. I want you to get in position then raise the sark for me. You will get yourself ready, bare your bottom for me to spank."

Oh, sweet Jesu. Something coiled and tingled between her legs, and she sensed a fluttering within which she could not quite name but she knew her most private places were dampening at his words. It would have been difficult to remove her clothing for him, but she had done it once and could manage again. This different approach of his was more intense, more humiliating. She was to aid in her own punishment by arranging herself just so.

"Mairead, do not keep me waiting."

"No, Jarl." She almost flung herself across his thighs, her head dangling down by his boot and her hair sweeping the floor. She dreaded what she must do next but wanted to get it over with so she reached back to grab the hem of her linen shirt and hastily pulled it up to her waist, then tucked the bulk of the material under her stomach to ensure it remained in place. She was horribly embarrassed, prayed that no one would see fit to open the curtain and see her thus. Had Aigneis managed to get Donald out of the longhouse in time?

"What are you thinking?" His tone was soft, and she took courage from that.

"I am afraid someone will hear, or come in."

"They might, but there is nothing you can do about any of that now. None of what is to happen to you is under your control so you might as well let it go. Relax, if you can, and surrender."

"I do not mean to fight you, Jarl. Or to struggle."

"I know that." He laid one warm, solid palm on her bottom and rubbed a large circle around her left cheek. "I was thinking more of what is happening in your head. You need only to feel this, not think overmuch about it."

"I... I will try, Jarl." Her voice fell to a breathy whisper. Her bottom was still tender from yesterday and as he pressed her delicate skin those sensations returned. How much more punishment could she take?

"You know why this is happening." It was a statement, not a question.

"I disobeyed you."

"Yes, though I now rather think you misunderstood my instruction rather than deliberately disobeyed. You should have checked, asked me to clarify."

"I will, Jarl. Next time."

"I shall make sure of it. So, are you ready?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I am ready."

The first volley of spanks were light, teasing almost. Gunnar rained slaps down on both her buttocks, covering the sensitive globes and causing her to clench and writhe on his lap, but not to cry out. It was painful, but not overly so and there was pleasure in it too, especially when he paused to caress her smarting skin. Now she moaned, but in startled delight rather than pain.

"You like that?"

She nodded, but then realised he may not have seen her. "Yes, Jarl."

"Will you spread your legs for me?"

"Of course." On one level, she had no choice, he would make her do as he wanted though he did phrase the command most politely. But on another this was exactly what she desired, what she had hoped for. Punishment, submission, sensuality – these were a heady mix and she no longer knew quite how to separate them, or even if she wished to. So she parted her thighs and lay still.

"So pretty, and so wet." He slid his hand between her thighs and stroked her soaking folds. Mairead tensed under the sudden wave of lust which seemed to engulf her. "Did I hurt you?" His voice was soft now, and achingly seductive.

"No, it was ... more pleasant than I remembered."

"I see. And this?" Now he toyed with the pleasure nub he had awakened yesterday. Mairead stuffed her fist in her mouth in an attempt not to squeal out loud.

"Answer me. Is this nice."

"Mmmmm."

Her muffled response clearly did not suffice. He dropped two hard slaps, one on each buttock. "I expect you to talk to me, to answer if I ask you a question. If you do not understand what I want of you, you may tell me that since I know our tongue is still new to you."

"It is very nice, Jarl." She blurted the reply out fast, fearing another onslaught of slaps and craving them at the same time.

"And this?" Now he circled her entrance with his finger tip.

"That too, Jarl. It feels so good..."

"This?" His finger entered her, just to the first knuckle she thought. "Any pain?"

"No, it feels wonderful. Perhaps you might... I mean, maybe a little more?"

"Can I trust you to tell me if I hurt you?"

"You have hurt me. You are spanking me, Jarl. It is meant to hurt, is it not?"

"The spanking, yes. Not this." He swirled his finger between the swollen, sensitive lips. "You only gave birth a month ago."

"I am healed, truly I am. The birth was easy, and... oh! Ooooh." She let out a sob as he slid his whole finger into her.

"Tell me, Mairead. Is this painful?"

"No. No, it is ... wonderful. Please do not stop."

"Greedy wench. You will take your spanking; then, if I am satisfied you have learnt better manners, I will give you what you desire."

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

Her Rogue Viking by Ashe Barker

Ashe Barker has always been fascinated by Vikings and she’s transformed that love into a hot new book Her Rogue Viking. Strong, sexy warriors, ruthless, dominant and determined – what’s not to like? It was only a matter of time before she 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 British history.

A Viking raid was 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 local people would hardly know what hit them.

She admits that she’s employed a certain amount of poetic license, but was determined to recreate the Viking era to the best ofher ability – their homes, their clothing, what they ate, how they lived. She hopes readers will be as entranced as she is by these creative and charismatic raiders, and perhaps forgive them their more outrageous little foibles.

Abducted. Humbled. Claimed

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 Link: Amazon 

Excerpt:

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.”

Author Interview

1. Please tell us a bit more about Ulfric. He’s a stern and sexy Viking chief, with a twitchy palm, but what else is there to know?

Well, I think you just about covered the basics there. Ulfric has a strong sense of family loyalty but that is tested sorely in this book. He has a difficult choice to make, but he is a man who doesn’t shirk his duty and ultimately he will do what he thinks is right for those he loves – whether they like it or not.

2. How many books have you written? Are they all historical or spanking fiction?

I have over forty titles out now, and they are all erotic stories. About a dozen of them are historical novels. Some have more of a BDSM vibe going on and some are spanking/domestic discipline. At first I wrote just contemporary stories, then I started adding a few historicals and sci-fis. I love the variety.

3. Why do you enjoy writing historical fiction?

History was my favourite lesson at school, though some periods are more fascinating to me than others. I always preferred the medieval or even earlier times, though the Victorians were an interesting bunch too. But the Viking era is my current favourite and Her Rogue Viking is the first in a series the three linked novels set among these Nordic warriors and the sassy Celts who bring them to their knees.

In many ways life was simpler in the past, if a lot more brutal, and of course some of the moral issues we would have to deal with in a contemporary setting don’t apply. Inequality was the norm. Women were expected to obey – or else. A spanking author can have a field day.

4. 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. Or a hero I couldn’t relate to and wouldn’t want to meet. 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.

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:

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