Six Of The Best - an anthology

Get out the fire extinguishers! British authors Ashe Barker, Felicity Brandon, Vanessa Brooks, Jaye Peaches, Gracie Malling and Katie Douglas have joined forces to compile a sizzling new anthology. Assume the position and prepare for Six of the Best!

Blurb:

Six scorching from USA Today and number 1 bestselling British authors! This is the 100% British historical anthology you've been waiting for. So, grab a cup of tea and make sure the smelling salts are to hand, then settle in as our heroines re-write the rules and earn SIX OF THE BEST for their outrageous antics. This dance across history sweeps from the Restoration to Victorian times and will leave you panting almost as much as our naughty ladies.

Publisher's note: These stories in Six of the Best are hot. Hotter than an oven full of muffins in a well-known British cake show. Domestic discipline and other indoor sports feature heavily in them, so if that's not your cup of tea, this is probably not the set for you. Don't say we didn't warn you!

To be released 24th March, 2018 (available to pre-order from Amazon starting 10th March, 2018)

Buy link: Amazon – but get in fast! The special price of 99¢ ends on March 31st.

Excerpt from – The King’s Vice by the amazing Felicity Brandon

One stride and he is right against me, his breath hot over my face, laced with the expensive wine we consumed earlier in the evening. “Yes, Lady Jane,” he answers. “This is where you shall be bared and spanked.”

Bared? I know my eyes widen at the word. “I am to be bared, Your Majesty?” I say, forcing the words from my mouth in a rush of anxious excitement. “All of me?”

He breaks into a low laugh. “There is a choice,” he replies, pushing my shoulders gently downwards, so that my bottom falls to the soft bedding below me. Now he towers over me, and as I raise my head to see him, my eyes meet his groin. I still at the sudden proximity to the place I know conceals His Majesty’s passion, my gaze lingering longer than it has right to, before rising slowly to meet his delicious brown eyes. His grin widens, acknowledging the brazen nature of my thoughts, and unbelievably I blush again, grateful for the shadows which may just hide my shame.

“A choice, Your Majesty?” I manage, my chest rising and falling faster with each passing moment.

He lowers himself in front of me, so that our eyes are at the same level. “A choice,” he agrees, pressing himself forward over my body. I gasp as he shifts his weight, his dexterity taking me by surprise. The sudden appearance of his face forces me backwards, and I find myself pinioned beneath his body, my legs splayed awkwardly under the skirts of my gown.

“There is always a choice, Lady Jane,” he murmurs, the strands of his dark curls hanging about my face.

I bite my lip, confusion and arousal at my change of circumstances, combined with my restricting bodice making it hard to breath. “What is the choice, Your Majesty?” I gasp.

The smile on his face is sin itself, and in this moment, I know that I have walked straight into his trap, although whether I have done so willingly or not is not even clear to me. “You can either be upturned over my knee, your skirts hoisted high over your back so that your delicious bottom is exposed to my palm, or…” He pauses, angling the weight of his stare over my face.

My mind, filled with the image he has just painted of me, reels at the silence. Is he expecting me to reply? What is the etiquette for such moments?

His expression shifts into a low chuckle as he appraises whatever constitutes my expression at this moment, and fortunately he once again takes pity on me, his humble servant. “Or, you can be stripped entirely.”

This time I cannot conceal the audible gasp which escapes from my lips. “Entirely, Your Majesty?” I repeat, as though surely his words cannot be real. Although of course I know them to be true, having only just left four naked ladies in the prior room.

“Yes, dear Jane,” he muses from over me. “A lady can only truly be admired in her own, natural form.”

I contemplate him, this man—my monarch—who has captured me so easily into his delicious game. “No one has ever seen me bare, Your Majesty,” I whisper, the words an admission of my innocence—a fact I have already articulated.

He nods. “I know,” he replies. “And I assume that until this night no man has ever claimed your sweet mouth, spoken to you of such lewd subjects, or pinned you against his bed?”

His brow rises as he speaks, the small gesture releasing a flood of moisture from between my legs. I am not absolutely clear what it is about him which is so alluring, but he most certainly has it. Yes, he is the King, and yet it is so much more than that. He is the devil in disguise, a debauch and beguiling demon, sent forth to worship and corrupt me. The thought makes me smile, in spite of my shame on the subject.

“You’re correct, Your Majesty,” I say with a small nod. “You are the first, on all counts.”

Smiling at the acknowledgment, he lowers his face into mine. Those full lips graze my mouth, parting my lips in an instant as my eyes slip shut. I want him to kiss me, to claim me, to own me. I desire it in a way I have no right to do. I demand it.

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:

Connect with Ashe Barker on social media:

www.ashebarker.com

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Pinterest

Goodreads

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

The Laird and the Sassenach

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

Side note: Sassenach is a Scottish Gaelic term that literally means Saxon but more broadly refers to non-Gaelic speaking Brits.

A highland warrior with a score to settle

Blurb

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

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

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

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

Buy Link Amazon

Read Chapter 1 for free

Excerpt:

“I shall have to trouble you to remove your gown, Roselyn. And your shift. I require you naked to the waist.”

Her eyes darkened to a shade close to violet. “I cannot. You cannot ask that of me.”

“I am not asking. It is not a request, it is a command. You will remove your clothing, or I shall summon a couple of my guards and they will remove it for you.” He stood and reached for her thin shoulder. Apart from offering her his arm to lead her into the solar this was the first time he had touched her and he was oddly pleased that despite her predicament and obvious fear she did not shrink away from him. He squeezed gently. “I do not intend to harm you, Roselyn, and this will be easier for you if just the two of us are present. If you require assistance I shall be pleased to aid you.”

She turned her face in his direction. “You really believe there might still be bruises.”

“It is possible, aye. Shall we find out?” He deliberately gentled his tone, sensing that she was willing to do even this if it would help to bolster her case.

There was a brief pause. She chewed on her lower lip and twisted her fingers nervously. Moments passed, then she raised her face to grant him a tremulous smile. “Very well, my lord. Thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“For your offer of aid. I believe I shall require it for my hands are shaking.”

Fuck. He took no pleasure in that knowledge, though why he should care was beyond him. Blair turned her to face him and with a few deft movements untied the laces which held her kirtle closed at the neck. The garment was simple enough, and practical. He was glad of that as he separated the two halves and slid it off her shoulders and down her arms. Beneath she wore just a woollen leine, loose enough not to require any fastenings. The lower portion disappeared into the skirts of her kirtle, still held at the waist by her belt made of plaited leather. Blair loosened the belt to free the fabric beneath, then pulled the leine up out of the confines of her outer clothing. Despite her acquiescence Roselyn made a grab for the garment as he started to lift it higher.

Blair paused. “Roselyn?”

She released her grip on the soft wool and raised her arms obediently in order to allow him to draw it over her head. She was naked beneath.

She was his enemy, but that was no reason not to speak his mind. Blair made no pretence of not observing what was displayed before him.

“You are quite lovely, Lady Roselyn.”

She gulped and laid her hands over the plump mounds. “Please…” she whispered.

He leaned in to murmur in her ear. “Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm here. I will touch you now, and if I hurt you, you must say so. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Her lovely eyes were closed and she continued to worry her lower lip between her small white teeth. Despite his reassurances she was plainly terrified. The view was delightful but even so he opted to conclude their business as quickly as he might.

“Turn to the right, if you please, to better catch the light from the window.” Not that he particularly required the benefit of improved illumination; the yellows and faint purplish smudges on her skin were plain to see. Blair was familiar with injuries acquired in battle and in training. He had sustained enough himself and had no difficulty in recognising the remnants of a severe battering. Both sides of her slender torso were similarly marked from just below her arms almost to her waist. He could not accurately date the original attack, but saw no cause to dispute her account of it.

He stroked the contours of her ribs on her left side, careful to exert no pressure. Even so, she winced. “Does it still pain ye, lass?”

“Your hands are cold, my lord.”

Blair chuckled. “Ah, I apologise.” He stepped around to better examine the right side also. This time when he laid his fingers on her she remained still.

“Are there bruises, my lord?”

“Aye, there are.”

“Then this will prove my account? You believe me?”

“It helps, without doubt. ‘Tis a pity we have no witness to support your story, though I daresay I could dispatch men to Kelso to question the Reverend Mother.”

“You would do that?”

He was surprised to realise that he would. Indeed he would, for he found he badly wanted to prove the mitigating circumstances which might help excuse Lady Roselyn’s actions. He was not a fool, Blair knew his people well. He would have to present convincing evidence of coercion in order to satisfy the members of Clan McGregor who would demand retribution for the deaths of their kinsfolk. As matters stood they would expect him to hang the English wench and would consider that a merciful end. It might yet come to that, but despite his earlier intentions he now found he had no real stomach for heaping his vengeance upon this fragile wench.

More about Ashe Barker, in her own words:

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

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

Question and answer with Ashe Barker:

Tell us a bit more about Blair. He’s stern and sexy, with a twitchy palm, but what else is there to know?

Well, I think you just about covered the basics there. Blair has a strong sense of duty, and of justice. He knows that he has to satisfy the demands of the McGregor clan who expect to see justice done but he is unwilling to do so at the expense of an innocent woman. Blair is determined to know the truth and to apportion blame where it should lie, but he is also an implacable enemy. If he discovers that Roselyn is to blame he will not hesitate to make her answer for her crimes.

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 Victoriuans were an interesting bunch too. 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.

Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

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

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

Resilient. Creative. Calm.

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

Turn out the lights.

Connect with Ashe Barker on social media:

www.ashebarker.com

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Pinterest

Goodreads

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

Theirs: Found and Claimed by Ashe Barker

I don’t know how she does it! Ashe Barker has another new book out: Theirs: Found and Claimed.  

Genre: Sci-fi erotic romance. Ages 18+

Her past gone, her future unknown, and a love that is out of this world

Blurb

When they board a derelict spacecraft in search of valuable scrap metal, the last thing Luca and Sylvan expect is to stumble upon a beautiful, naked woman in need of medical assistance. Despite her protests, they bring her back to their ship, treat her illness, and take it upon themselves to look after her.

After she contracted the virus that wiped out her people and killed everyone else on her ship, Llianna didn’t expect to survive, and she is shocked when she awakens from a comatose state with two men standing over her. Once she regains her health, however, she is horrified to realize that she is about to enter her fertile period, a uniquely vulnerable time for females of her species.

Knowing that she will end up begging Luca and Sylvan to take her in any way they please if she doesn’t act quickly, she flees in her partially-repaired ship, only to be caught, stripped bare, and spanked soundly. The stern punishment leaves her desire burning even more fiercely, and soon she is writhing in ecstasy as her handsome rescuers claim her hard and thoroughly.

Though Luca and Sylvan make it clear that she is free to go once her ship is finally fully operational again, Llianna finds herself yearning to belong to them completely, and as she learns to submit to their firm, loving dominance, her passion for them grows more intense with each passing day. But when she discovers that she is not the last of her kind after all, will she leave the men she loves to live amongst her own people?

Publishers’ note: Theirs: Found and Claimed includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy link: Amazon

Read Chapter One for Free

Excerpt:

Luca continues to hold me, but Sylvan peels his body away from mine. I hear him, his footsteps, the rustle of clothing. He is undressing, and despite my apprehension curiosity overwhelms me. I have viewed images, naturally, but I have never seen a male unclothed, not in the flesh. I turn to watch him over my shoulder.

“Come around to this side,” suggests Luca. “She needs a decent view.”

I appreciate his concern for my comfort. Sylvan obligingly moves around to stand in front of me and I watch with avid interest as he removes his tunic. The sharp contours and rippling musculature of his upper body fascinate me. His hair is a pale colour; it reminds me of the subtle pastel shades of the floral plant life that used to thrive on Fyorli and that now exist only in our databanks. More of this soft, curling hair is sprinkled across his wide chest, disappearing like an arrow down beneath his pants. I wonder if he might allow me to touch it, to trail my fingers through the softness. That thought evaporates when Sylvan pulls off his pants and I am treated to my first view of his cock.

I believed I knew what to expect, but I was wrong. I gasp, my disappointment a bitter, acrid taste on my tongue. This will not work. Human males and Fyorlian females are simply not compatible. He is… huge. He will not fit inside me, it is impossible.

“Llianna, are you all right?” Luca murmurs in my ear. “It’s okay, we can take this as slow as you need.”

I shake my head. “I cannot. It is just too, too…”

“Too what?” presses Luca.

“Too big,” I whisper as I bury my face in his chest again. “It is much too big.”

Both males chuckle, but they seem not to grasp the truth of my words. Do they not have eyes? Can they not see the problem here? It is simple physics, surely.

“Trust us, this is going to be just fine.”

Luca’s assurance utterly fails to convince me. I shall just have to manage, somehow. The phase will pass, eventually. I shake my head and cling to Luca.

“Llianna, I’m going to roll you onto your back. It’ll be easier for you that way.”

“No, no, please, do not do this.”

“Honey, nothing’s going to happen if you don’t want it. We’re just asking you to trust us and give this a try.”

“Human females must be bigger than Fyorlians,” I protest. Can they not work this out for themselves? Did they know all along?

“No, they aren’t, not especially. We’ll go slow. It may be tight, but you will manage this. I promise.”

His voice is low, soothing, and very determined. He has never lied to me before, neither of these males has, but what Luca is suggesting is quite impossible. Despite the evidence of my own eyes, I do want to believe him. I want to trust him, trust them. My pussy clenches viciously, and I realise I have little choice, really. What is the alternative?

“You will stop, if I ask you to?”

“Absolutely,” affirms Luca.

Sylvan echoes his promise, and the bed dips again as he re-joins us. “Very, very slow, and lots of lube, if you need it, but I doubt if you will. Are you ready to turn over now?”

I gulp, pause for a moment to consider that suggestion, then I manage another nod.

Luca is gentle as he rearranges me on my back. He is behind me, leaning against the pillows at the head of the bed and he pulls me back into his arms. “Lift your hands up, honey, and put them behind my head.”

I do as he asks, the position lifting my breasts as though presenting them for inspection. Sylvan kneels in front of me, and his green gaze is warm, admiring. I feel good, in spite of my anxiety at what is about to happen.

“Gorgeous tits, don’t you agree?” Luca reaches around me to cup my breasts and presses them together. They fill his hands, my stiff nipples poking between his fingers as he squeezes.

“First thing I noticed, after that luscious arse.” Sylvan moves forward, lifting his gaze from my breasts to my face. “I hope it’s still pleasantly sore.”

“It is sore, certainly,” I assure him. The slight quiver in my voice owes much to the trepidation I still feel, but now there is something else too, something warm and pleasant starting to unfurl low down in my abdomen.

“Good. So, Llianna, you’re a virgin, yes? I know there were no males on board the Renascient.”

“That is correct.”

“Okay…”

“But, I do know what is to happen. I have read about it and spoken to other females, older than I, and I understand. That is why I am concerned that, that—”

“Spread your legs, Llianna.”

More about Ashe Barker:

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

Connect with Ashe Barker on social media:

www.ashebarker.com

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Pinterest

Goodreads

Interview with Ashe Barker:

How many books have you written? Are they all spanking fiction?

I think I have approaching fifty titles out now, and they are all erotic stories. Some are more BDSM themed and some are spanking/domestic discipline. At first I wrote just contemporary stories, then I started adding a few historicals as well, and one paranormal so far. Theirs : Found and Claimed is my third sci-fi and I love writing in this genre.

Why do you enjoy writing sci-fi?

Because I love the idea of playing God. I can create just the world(s) I want, set up whatever social system suits my story, and craft the most amazing characters. The usual laws of physics, time, and cultural behavior don’t count so the story-telling can be much more creative and inventive in an alternative universe. Stories which might be really controversial if written as a contemporary romance can be ‘cloaked’ in a sci-fi.

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

I’d tell them to have a go, but to have a decent thesaurus to hand to help with the creative vocabulary. And an internet connection. Youtube is the erotica writer’s friend.

Do you see writing as a career?

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

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

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

Rough Diamonds by Ashe Barker

Ashe Barker is back with an exciting new book, Rough Diamonds. In case you haven’t met Ashe Barker before now, there is an interview with her at the end of this blogpost. For now, let’s look at Rough Diamonds:

Genre: Contemporary erotic romance, romantic suspense, BDSM

Blurb

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

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

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

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

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

Buy link: Amazon (FREE on Kindle Unlimited)

Excerpt (ages 18+)

He was still lying on the bed when she emerged from the luxurious en suite clad in just her new pyjamas and a generous splash of Chanel Coco, the expensive perfume a Christmas present from her sister. The sheer, camisole-style top tied in front with a couple of fragile ribbons of lace, and the fabric left little to the imagination. Her breasts were outlined clearly, the dark pink nipples pressing little points into the delicate material. The pants were long and loose and Christa thought they would not look out of place in a harem. Very appropriate, Christa reflected… Or inappropriate, depending on your view.

Christa paused in the doorway, self-conscious suddenly. She was normally so cautious, prim almost. This was so unlike her, really, she ought to—

“You were right, chérie. The outfit is very pretty indeed.” Perhaps he recognised her indecision, her wavering, but Johan allowed her no time in which to reconsider. Christa was glad of it as he rolled from the mattress and came to stand before her. He gently fingered the ribbon which masqueraded as some sort of shoulder strap. “May I…?”

“May you … What?” Her voice was a husky whisper.

“This.” He eased the strap down her arm, causing the gossamer-thin fabric to cascade away in a soft sweep. One breast was exposed. Christa held her breath. It never occurred to her to seek to cover herself.

Johan lowered his gaze, his lip curling in sensual appreciation. He cupped Christa’s face between his hands to hold her still for his kiss. She was going nowhere, in any case. His lips were warm, soft, teasing hers until she opened for him. His tongue explored her mouth, curling around hers in a hot, suggestive dance.

Christa mewled deep in her throat when he lowered his hands to stroke her shoulders, then trailed his fingers lower still to tease the erect, exposed nipple. He circled it with his fingertips, then took the hardened bud between his finger and thumb and applied just enough pressure to make her gasp.

“You like this, ma petite? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she breathed. “It was just, I never…”

“Pleasure is good, is it not?” He cupped the full mound in his hand and caressed her slowly, stroking his fingers across the quivering peak before he caught it again and, this time, squeezed hard enough to make her squeal. “But pain is even more exciting, if properly applied. Do you not agree, little Christa, my beautiful flower-seller?”

Christa should have been frightened: his words made no sense. At the same time, she understood him perfectly, and was in no doubt as to his meaning. He intended to hurt her, and he meant her to enjoy it.

How had he known? How had he had even the slightest inkling that she might respond? She had hardly known, herself, until this moment.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Oh yes.”

He chuckled and kissed her mouth again, at the same time easing her other strap from her shoulder. A tug was all it took on the two fragile scraps of lace which tied in front to hold the two halves of the top closed. The garment opened and he was able to slide the top from her body and drop it behind her on a low sofa.

Now his palms caressed both breasts, his touch firm yet still gentle. Christa arched, presenting her body, asking for more.

Johan broke the kiss to trail a hot, damp path across her collar bone and down to her breasts. He locked his hands behind her, under her bottom and lifted her so he could better reach her nipples with his lips. Christa grasped his shoulders and flung back her head as he took first one peak, then the other, into his mouth.

Christa moaned. “That’s… That feels so…”

He sucked, curling his agile tongue around one engorged nipple. A crackle of electricity surged from the pebbled nub straight to her clit. Christa opened her legs and wrapped them around his body, not minding in the least that he remained fully dressed whilst she was as near naked as made no difference.

He turned, and walked back toward the bed, as Christa crossed her ankles in the small of his back. He leaned forward to tip her onto the duvet then followed her down.

His mouth closed around her nipple again, the suction harder now, the sensation more intense. Christa’s pussy tingled and clenched as she writhed against him, desperate, purring, seeking more.

“The pants are gorgeous, as are you, chérie, but I think we might lose them now. Do you agree?”

Christa did agree, whole-heartedly. She reached for the waistband, intending to shove them down past her hips, but Johan caught her hand and stopped her.

“No, allow me. Please.”

More about Ashe Barker

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

Connect with Ashe Barker on social media

Newsletter Sign-Up

www.ashebarker.com

Amazon

google.com/+AsheBarker

Facebook  

Twitter  

Questions and answers: an interview with Ashe Barker:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coming Together: Under the Mistletoe by Ashe Barker

And now for something completely different – today we’re looking at the anthology Coming Together: Under the Mistletoe which features a short story by Ashe Barker who has been featured here several times before.

A collection of twenty-four pieces of erotic fiction & poetry edited by Delilah Night, Coming Together: Under the Mistletoe has been compiled to benefit charity. All proceeds go to the Project Linus.

The collection includes Ashe Barker’s short story, Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot?

Blurb: Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot?

She’s recovered, moved on. Her marriage is over. Or is it?

Cain has other ideas. Heather might have left him, fled to the wilds of bloody Scotland of all places to get away from him, but she never even signed the divorce papers he sent her. He’s wasted enough time and now he’s determined to settle things, one way or another. A decent spanking always used to work, but is it too late?

New year, new start. There’s only one way to find out…

Excerpt (PG)

"Heather, open up. I'm freezing my nuts off out here." The familiar voice rang in her head. Heather covered her ears.

"Hey, I know you're in there. Let me in."

She shrank into a crouch.

Moments later footsteps in the next room warned her that he had simply followed her treacherous dog around to the rear of the property and come in through the open back door. He was here, inside her mill.

The studio door remained ajar from when Mutt had charged from the room. Heather felt the man's presence before she saw him, since she refused to lift her head and face him. He crouched before her and took her elbows in his hands.

"So, Heather. Keeping busy, I see." His tone was soft, amused almost.

"What are you doing here?" Heather raised her gaze at last to meet his, and immediately wished she had not. He was, if anything, even more devastatingly handsome than she remembered, and her recollection of him was pretty accurate, or so she'd thought. "What do you want?"

"I came to see you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my wife."

Here’s a complete list of what to expect from the anthology – 24 sizzling stories and poems, and all for just $3.99

Santa, Kinky (Blacksilk)

Kid Comet (Delilah Night)

All I Want for Christmas is Sex (Sheryl Collins)

Carpe Marine Christmas Package (Muffy Wilson) 

Silver Bells (M. Marie)

Tugging Reins (Sonni de Soto)

The Twelve Days of Christmas (DJK)

Strip Dreidel (Rob Rosen)

Under the Mistletoe (Ramona Thompson)

Accosting Santa (Sommer Marsden)

A Thaw in Midwinter (Blacksilk)

The Green Lady (James Malin)

A Christmas Eve in Snow (Marcia Conover)

Summer in December (Tamsin Flowers)

Patriarchal Winter Night's Dream (Jaylan Salah)

Hush (Maria Duendi)

Winter's Majesty (Stacy Savage)

Christmas in Minneapolis (CeCe Marsh)

The Road on a Winter Hike (Sarah Jaylan)

Baby, It's Hot Outside (Delilah Night)

Frosty (Corbin A. Grace)

Adrenaline Rush (Robert Buckley)

Goosebumps (Stacy Savage)

Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot? (Ashe Barker)

Buy links:

Amazon 

All Romance E-books

Kobo (ebook)

Connect with Ashe Barker on social media:

Newsletter Sign-Up

www.ashebarker.com

Amazon

google.com/+AsheBarker

Facebook  

Twitter  

Her Alien Commander by Ashe Barker

I’ve only recently discovered the work of USA Today Bestselling author Ashe Barker and I can’t wait to read more! She writes erotic romance and spanking romance in a variety of genres including contemporary, BDSM, paranormal, historical. ménage, gay romance and time travel. Ashe’s #1 Amazon Bestseller status is built on an extensive range of stories, all of which feature hot alpha males and sassy submissives, often with a lot to learn. Kink abounds, and there’s enough dirty talk to satisfy the most demanding smut lover. However dark and dirty the setting, love always emerges triumphant, and her stories never fail to deliver a satisfying happy ever after.

Today we are looking at her recent release, Her Alien Commander from Stormy Night Publications.

Genre: sci fi erotic romance

Blurb

After leaving Earth on what she thought would be an adventure, Caria Montgomery quickly ends up in way over her head. Captured by hostile aliens, she faces the prospect of perishing on an isolated planet until she is rescued by Commander Phahlen Verdar and his crew.

Phahlen is delighted to have a human female aboard his ship. In the years since the women of his own world were nearly wiped out by a terrible plague, taking a mate has become all but impossible for most males of his species, and he doesn’t plan to let this opportunity pass him by. His plan to claim Caria is aided by the fact that, due to the unsavoury nature of the crew of the ship on which she was travelling, she is now a wanted fugitive back on Earth.

Though Caria is initially defiant, a sound spanking on her bare bottom demonstrates her admittedly handsome future mate’s resolve. His bold dominance awakens an intense need within her, and before long she finds herself yearning for the pleasure of his masterful lovemaking. But is she truly prepared to surrender herself fully to her alien commander, or will she seek to return to Earth and clear her name as soon as possible?

Publisher’s Note: Her Alien Commander includes spankings and sexual scenes – tough stuff but worth it. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Read Chapter One for free

Buy it now:  Amazon

Excerpt (18+):

Phahlen rolled onto his back, carrying Caria with him so she ended up draped across his torso, her legs straddling his much longer limbs. His cock was still deep inside her. He wrapped one arm around her slender back and with his other hand he cupped the back of her head. He lifted his head to kiss her hair.

“So, little human, you survived after all?”

She made a sound that might have been a snort.

Phahlen dropped a playful slap on her bottom. “Have you forgotten so soon what I told you about respect and insubordination?”

She lifted her face from his chest. “You still scared me. Shitless.”

“I know. I am sorry it had to be that way.”

“You can… I mean, you’re still…”

“Still inside you. Ah, yes, there was something I needed to mention about that.”

She shoved herself up on her elbows. “What?”

“I understand human males tend to—subside—after they’ve come. And that they can only find their release once, then they need a period of rest before performing again.”

“Yes,” agreed Caria. “That’s right.”

“Vahleans are less … flimsy.”

“Flimsy,” she echoed. “What do you mean, less flimsy?”

“I mean, we remain erect for much longer. As long as we choose to, pretty much. And after we ejaculate, our cocks actually swell and harden more, particularly at the head. It prevents us separating from our partner for a while.”

“A while?” Caria’s expression was perplexed. “How much of a while?”

He affected a shrug. “An hour or so. Perhaps longer. Of course, if I decide to fuck you some more it could take most of the day.”

“All day? You could continue to fuck me, the entire day?”

“A delightful prospect, now you come to mention it. I hope no emergency calls me away to attend to the needs of my ship. That would be a pity.”

“All day?” she parroted.

“Yes, little human. All fucking day.”

“But, I’ll get sore. It’s already… that thing in my bum…”

“Ah, yes. Allow me.” He slid his fingers down the crevasse between her cheeks until he reached her anus. He grasped the protruding end of the toy and drew it from her body. A quick flick of the control killed the humming, and he dropped it over the side of the bed.

“It can be your task to clean that off, later. Make sure you do a good job because you’d like me to use it again, wouldn’t you?”

Caria ignored his remark. She appeared to be having difficulty grasping his earlier comment. “All day?” she whispered.

“And all night. Not that those divisions mean much in space. I do intend to enjoy your company though, little human, and I think perhaps you’ve begun to realise you might actually enjoy mine.”

Caria dropped her gaze and rested her chin on his sternum. Neither spoke for several minutes. Phahlen was content to let her assimilate these new facts as he savoured the gentle pressure of her quivering pussy walls around his rock-solid cock. Unless she really was too sore to continue, he intended to roll her onto her back again and—

“Why?” Caria’s question disturbed his thoughts.

“Why what?”

“Why this, this…” Apparently lost for the correct word, she settled for squeezing her cunt around him.

“Ah, this. It’s an evolutionary device, I understand. It serves to increase fertility, maximising the likelihood of conception because it forces the female to remain stationary, and prone, until the male decides to let her go. I believe it will serve my purposes well.”

“Don’t you get bored?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Just lying here? Don’t you get bored?”

“For fuck’s sake, little wench, you have a lot to learn about Vahlean sexuality. And your own too, I daresay. I can assure you, boredom won’t be an issue.”

“But—”

He’d heard enough, and his cock had too. Phahlen shifted, tossing Caria onto the mattress and rolling on top of her. He would have instructed her to wrap her legs around him again, but she did it before he could speak. He grasped her still bound wrists and raised them above her head, pinning them with one hand while the other roamed her breasts. His most urgent needs already met, he took his time. Phahlen explored her at his leisure, teasing her taut peaks, her soft hollows.

“Sir, please stop. Please, I can’t bear it…”

He released her nipple to look up at her. “Caria…?”

Her eyes were closed, her mouth tight. “I need to come. Now. I need you to fuck me. Don’t make me wait.”

“As you wish, little Earth wench.” He drew back his hips and speared his cock deep inside her again. “Just as you wish.”

***

Getting to know Ashe Barker:

Who or what was the inspiration for Caria? Is she anything like you?

Well I’ve never joined a crew of space pirates and raided inter-stellar craft, but I might if the opportunity arose. I suppose Caria is something of an adventurer, and I’m a bit like that too. She tends to jump in with both feet, then worry about the consequences later. In Her Alien Commander she is often impetuous, but she has a streak of bloody-minded determination too, which I admire. The odds might be stacked against her, but she doesn’t give up.

Tell us a bit more about Phahlen. He’s stern and sexy, with a twitchy palm, but what else is there to know?

Well, I think you just about covered the basics there. Phahlen has a strong sense of duty, and of justice, though Caria may not think so, at least not at first. He knows what he wants from her, but he takes care of her too. He saves her life at the start of the book, and it’s Phahlen who finds a solution to the problem of her criminal past. He’s always there when she needs him, though it takes her a while to appreciate his finer qualities.

How many books have you written? Are they all spanking fiction?

I think I have about forty titles out now, and they are all erotic stories. Some are more BDSM themed and some are spanking/domestic discipline. At first I wrote just contemporary stories, then I started adding a few historicals as well. Her Alien Commander is my first sci-fi and I loved writing it.

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

I’d tell them to have a go, but to have a decent thesaurus to hand. And an internet connection. Youtube is the erotica writer’s friend.

Do you see writing as a career?

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

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

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

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

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

Connect with Ashe Barker on social media:

 Newsletter Sign-Up

www.ashebarker.com

Amazon

google.com/+AsheBarker

Facebook  

Twitter