Wicked and Wild…What Could Be Better?

I have questions for my lovely and amazing readers. It’s funny, I have a library upstairs in my house. Really its a loft where my husband and I enjoy watching sizzling movies and shows, but surrounding the room are three HUGE bookcases. In my effort to clean and organize, I took another look at the contents of the bookcase. Yes, we have dozens of both VHS (no laughing!) and DVD movies, but the huge majority of real estate taken up has to do with books. LOTS of books. Hardbacks, soft backs, paperbacks – you blond with horsename it, we have books from so many authors.

I think we all have our favorite authors, but I was pleased to see so many books written by different writers. My husband and I might be old school, but we both enjoy having an actual book in our hands. Of course, we have several computers, iPads, etc., but most often (especially for my husband), he has an actual book in his hand. He’s a voracious reader so a book doesn’t last very long. I’ve always seen him with different genres, which means various authors, so I asked him the other day why. Why go from Tim Dorsey or Carl Haisson to Clive Cussler. His answer? Because it depends on his mood. And he re-reads them several times.

I think so many readers do enjoy different genres and I honestly believe that’s why I write everything from thrillers to Daddy Dom pieces. I have varied interests and I think my readers do as well. Last year, I was heavily involved in a smokejumper series. I do love my first responders and smokejumpers are some of the bravest souls on earth – in my humble opinion. I loved writing the books, keeping the story enriched with knowledge about Missoula Montana. I adored the suspense and interaction. They will forever be a favorite of mine.

And now? Well, if the 2019 lineup is any indication, I’m switching genres every month. A dominating cowboy piece releasing February 1st. A dark and dominating Cyborg science fiction. A mafia bad boy turned hero. A firefighter forced to face his demons. A Daddy belt around throatDom bridging two genres by itself. And more… And more…

My question is:  Do you enjoy an author who writes in several genres or would you prefer to know what to expect? Do you enjoy a fully connected series or a stand alone series in which you at least have some of the same characters? Curious minds want to know!

As with every author, I think some books hit home more than others. My first Daddy Dom piece is a sleeper, but I admit, a truly fun piece to write so I thought I’d give you another taste of what you can expect if you purchase. And as with almost all my other books, if you have a KU subscription, you can read my books for free! It’s that time of year, at least in a huge portion of the US. COLD. SNOW. FIRES. WINE. A GOOD BOOK. Time to grab a copy or five and enjoy the weekend.

Oh, and don’t forget that Captured and Kept – A Dark Reverse Harem piece is HOT off the presses. 

She went looking for cavemen. The brutes she found were much less civilized…

Since her career was knocked off track in retaliation for her efforts to expose a sinister plot by high-ranking government officials, reporter Danielle Carver has been stuck writing puff pieces in a small town in Oregon. Desperate for a serious story, she sets outcapturedandkept_full to investigate the rumors she’s been hearing about mysterious men living in the mountains nearby. But when she secretly follows them back to their remote cabin, the ruggedly handsome beasts don’t take kindly to her snooping around, and she soon finds herself stripped bare for a painful, humiliating spanking.

Their rough dominance arouses her deeply, and before long she is blushing crimson as they take turns using her beautiful body as thoroughly and shamefully as they please. But when Dani uncovers the true reason for their presence in the area, will more than just her career be at risk?

MILLIONAIRE DADDY

EXCERPT

She hadn’t noticed his attire before, black pants and a crisp white shirt, his sleeves rolled up, revealing a gorgeous sun-kissed tan. In his hand was a black bag, what appeared to be a weighted duffle, and the expression on his face was one of disappointment. “Sir, I…”

Master Dominick walked inside, his eyes never blinking. “I gave you a simple request. Very simple in fact and for some reason, you found it difficult to comply. Is there a problem? Were you called for an emergency?”

“No, Sir.” There were various levels of embarrassment and for her, this was shooting well over a ten. She’d shoved her legs together, one knee cocking and shifting in front of the other, both arms dangling in front of her breasts, as if that was going to keep him from seeing them. She no longer had any saliva in her mouth. None. In fact, she was having difficulty breathing. Dying on his floor wasn’t going to bode well for either of them.

“Come here, baby girl.”

His instructions were laced with a stern dominance. She’d already disobeyed him. Her feet were so heavy as she attempted to move forward, her pulse skipping, mist in her eyes. “I’m really sorry, Sir. I am.”

He kept the unyielding look as he set the bag onto the edge of his desk. “Come closer.”

Jenna realized she was nibbling on her bottom lip as she followed his instructions, moving to within a foot of him.

“Open the bag and remove the contents.”

She gave Daddy a half smile as she reached out, fingering the bag before unzipping. When she reached her hand inside, she winced, another shiver sliding down her spine. Nestled inside were spanking implements. Lots of them.

“Take them out,” he instructed.

The first one her hand wrapped around was a simple wooden spoon. She gingerly placed it on the desk, blinking only twice. Not so bad. The second was a wooden brush and her mind immediately raced to Target or Walmart, standing in line with several brushes that would be kept and used in various places. The third was a paddle, ping pong in variety. She exhaled, trying to keep from shaking. The fourth was a leather strap of some kind, twelve inches long with a handle on the end. Shuddering, she darted a look in his direction. There were other items in the bag.

“Yes, these are various implements that will be used depending on the severity of your infraction.” Master Dominick seemed so calm and collected, as if he did this for a living.

She swished away a strand of hair out of her eyes before reaching in again. This time, her hand wrapped around a larger piece, but definitely wood. When she removed the oversized paddle, complete with holes drilled in the middle, she whimpered. “Whew.”

“Continue.”

The next was a simple belt, the leather scent reaching her nostrils. She did crave the belt, the very thing for a Daddy to use on a terrible little girl. Then there was a ruler, very hard and very thick. The final two pieces were much more heinous, floggers that she knew could bite into her skin. When she was certain the bag was empty, she took a step back, understanding that this bag had been put together for and with her in mind. Her punishment satchel, one that he could take anywhere. Now her knees were knocking.

He moved behind her, placing both hands on her shoulders.

She heard the slight skip in his breath sounds. Did he feel the electricity coursing between them? Did he understand how strong their connection was? She shivered from his touch, some of her embarrassment fading.

“Today we begin. I will help you, teach you, and guide you. This will be good for both of us. Leave the strap on the desk and pack everything else.” He eased the handwritten note highlighting horrendous behaviors off the desk, studying what she’d written.

His instructions were once again clear. She did as she was told without a second’s worth of hesitation, carefully placing the items in the bag. Her fingers slid across the strap and she had a brand new round of goosebumps popping along almost every inch of her naked skin. She half expected that he would laugh at what she’d written, but he didn’t utter a sound, nor did he react.

After folding the note and placing into his pocket, he gripped the handle, easing the duffle to the floor then inched around her, sitting on the edge of his high-back leather chair. “Come here, baby girl. We will start with over my lap.”

Jenna was reduced to a naughty girl as she padded toward him. He took her hands into his, caressing as he spoke, the words quite comforting given her state of undress. “I know you’re having difficulty with stress and that’s what we’re going to work on today. The rest we will handle at a later time. However, please don’t give anyone the finger while you’re driving.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“This is going to hurt. Every time I spank you, the session will be painful, some more than others. This isn’t playtime. Do you understand?” His question was direct.

“Yes, Sir. That’s what I want, Sir.” She knew that she did, had finally accepted that she could thrive with a man’s firm hand and harsh discipline. Then why was there a lump remaining in her throat?

“Then we begin.” Master Dominick pulled her over his lap, placing his hand on the small of her back. “Palms on the floor. Hold your position and this is merely a warmup. Thirty with my hand.”

Thirty. Thirty. Thirty! Oh, my God.She was shivering all over, her head pounding. This was going to make her sick. She had to be crazy. Clamping her eyes shut, she placed both hands on the floor. There would be no adequate way of describing how humiliating being naked over a man’s lap could be. They weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends, which is what made this even more sinful in her mind.

The first smack across her ass was like lighting a fire under her. “Oh!” Jerking up, she flailed her arm back in a reactionary mode, whimpering and not from any pain being inflicted.

He sighed and gripped her wrist, pulling it back into position. “I think we begin again. I’m not going to tolerate you disobeying during a punishment session. Take a deep breath and collect yourself, young lady, or we will select yet another implement to be used.”

“Yes, Sir.” Dear God, was she actually sniveling? This was ridiculous. Oh, no. She took three deep breaths then mentally glued her fingers to the floor. Be a good girl. Be a damn good girl.

PURCHASE LINK

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Claimed by the Beasts

Yes, my sweet ones, I have a new release. I’ve always had a love of dangerous creatures, especially lions and tigers. My new release highlights white lions in a different light – one fueled by a curse plaguing their kind. The Red Moon is approaching, a time of passing that could mean their extinction, unless the King claims his bride. She’s very human, refusing to believe in dark beings haunting the night.

But she cannot refuse them, her hunger almost as ravenous as the wild beasts…

Would you like a taste? HOT off the presses.

CLAIMED BY THE BEASTS

SYNOPSIS

Investigative journalist Scarlet Dumane has spent years hiding from the truth about herself, but now her grandmother’s death under suspicious circumstances has brought her home to the bayous of Louisiana and she must face her fate, no matter how shameful and terrifying.

Though she has done her best to run from it, Scarlet cannot escape what is in store for her. She is destined to be claimed, not by one savage beast, but by three. Her mates will claimedbythebeasts_fullown every inch of her, and her beautiful body will be shared and used as roughly and as often as they please.

She will be a queen, but her mates will be her masters, and defiance will be punished. Yet even when she is stripped bare and spanked until she is sobbing, her need for them only grows, and every blush, moan, and quivering climax binds her to them more tightly. But with enemies lurking in the shadows, can she trust her mates to protect her from both man and beast?

EXCERPT

The wind whipped past him as he rolled through the darkened streets, the humidity licking at his face. He was hungry, his needs festering just under his skin. Tonight, he would need to feed, but only after satisfying his other craving.

Larken felt reborn, maneuvering the Harley around the bank of turns, hunkering over the handlebars as he pressed down the accelerator. The massive steel machine was his baby, left and cared for by his best friends. He’d craved the ride, the speed as well as the danger. This had been his hunting grounds when he was younger, enabling him safety from prying human eyes as he fed. The area would serve his needs again, at least for the time being. Going in excess of seventy miles per hour, he shot past the various driveways, heading into the city. There were signs all around him that the beasts of the forest were on the move and there was only one reason for the change in location.

Fear.

From the moment he’d arrived in Lafayette, his senses had been heightened, his skin prickling, the desire to shed his human skin increasing. His natural instincts were on high alert, electricity coursing through him. He also sensed something else.

His mate.

No matter his disgust at the old ways, they were all searching for their rightful mate, and there were significantly fewer females of his kind than even twenty years before. This wasn’t about reeling from her aroma, but an innate knowing in his mind. The concept was disturbing.

Why did he not gather her scent?

He slowed the bike, lifting his head and sniffing, inhaling the various odors of the forest surrounding him. What he could detect was that certain members of the Pride were on the prowl but there was more. Unfortunately, his once keen instincts would need to be honed. He rode on, picking up speed. He would service certain needs tonight to keep the change at bay, at least for the time being.

He was important to the majority of his kind, a member of the Vusi Pride, considered the most virulent and dangerous in the world. But their numbers were dwindling, a cause and effect of the curse as well as succumbing to the natural order of things—humans hell bent on destroying their land and taking away their livelihoods. While there were hundreds of Prides living in the United States, as well as other countries, their fate was in the hands of an ancient legend, carefully filtered to the younger generations. Elders controlled knowledge as well as their fates, at least to a point.

But he was considered king.

Larken was weary of what he’d find after returning to the city, even more concerned his Pride was being picked off one by one in an effort to control them. What the humans didn’t know is that they were prepared for a fight. He rolled his eyes as he recounted his training, years spent sharpening his skills, his youth stripped away by requirements given by the Elders.

And he’d hated every second, far too disobedient for his powerful and influential father.

white lionUnfortunately, he would need to make a choice, his decision altering the course of the Vusi, as well as other Prides. The weight on his shoulders was kicking his ass. The Red Moon was approaching, just as the ancient books had foretold. He’d been a nonbeliever for his entire life, but the recent events told a damning story. Still, tonight he wanted company in the form of a beautiful woman and he would find everything he needed at a local bar.

He was also meeting the two men that he could trust with his life, his kindred, the same men who had called him back into service. Trevor Williams and Bristol Abbott were important to the Pride, considered leaders and respected by the majority of the clan. They’d been bonded as children, their futures entwined, required to take the same mate. He snickered at the thought. They’d shared a few women all right, but that had been years ago. Claiming a single female as their intended mate sounded barbaric.

But required by the ancient laws.

Larken kicked down his speed as he approached the outer limits of the town, avoiding attracting any law enforcement official or other prominent member of the closely knit community. Their kind were merely tolerated at best, the abundance of old wives’ tales and campfire stories creating a vacuum around the village that he’d grown up in.

After all, they were beasts, monsters that terrorized Lafayette, feeding on the young, ravaging and pillaging the young virgins. Only the stories were crap. Except for one aspect.

They were creatures, what lore affectionately termed as werelions. Half human, half lion. Their kind had been cursed hundreds of years before, plagued with the knowledge that they would be annihilated one day, killed off because of a witchdoctor’s angry curse. Supposedly, their time had come. And all because of the Red Moon.

To think he’d come back for this bullshit, two-thousand-year-old crap to be exact. He should have stayed in Los Angeles, fighting fires and living the high life. He’d left his hometown the day he turned twenty-two, refusing to accept who and what he was. He thought about words from his father, who had encouraged him to leave. Perhaps it had been his father’s way of trying to keep him safe. He’d yet to see his father since his return. His father was one of the three revered Elders remaining in Lafayette, two arriving only a few decades earlier and all in preparation for the catastrophic lunar event.

Almost five years had passed, but nothing seemed to have changed. Being lured back gave him mixed feelings, no matter the circumstances. There were many who had bid him good riddance, including lower ranking officers with a penchant for power plays. He would face the Elders in order to make his determination. Time would tell. Snickering, he made a sharp right turn, allowing the bike to rumble as he headed for his destination.

The parking lot of The Full Tilt was hopping, dozens of cars, trucks, and motorcycles in the parking lot. The place had been, and in his mind, would always be a biker bar, even though from what he’d heard, tourists had found the location on some goddamn internet site like Yelp. Now, the place was jam packed with MC wannabes, all sporting some form of fake tattoo or another.

He found a spot all the way in the back, able to secure his bike in the darkness. There were enemies he longed to avoid, men who had no trouble dishing out a pile of shit when they were able. He didn’t want any trouble, but if there was, he’d have difficulty maintaining control given his level of hunger.

As he secured his helmet, he heard a rustling sound coming from only a few feet away. His keen senses took over, allowing him to see clearly in the darkness. The scene was far too delicious to resist. He’d never considered himself a voyeur, but his breakup had given him free rein to consider a certain level of adventure.

Even if his mate was in town.

He’d been a poster boy of virtue in LA, preferring to be a homebody instead of roaming the bars, no matter the quantity of women. His job had been his life until meeting Becky, but his good behavior hadn’t been only because of work or his relationship. There was something else much more vital in keeping him close to home. He’d been terrified of losing control. How long had it been since he’d transformed? Long enough to be concerned about his growing level of anger increasing daily. Rage could force him to shift, losing his ability to kill discriminately. At least being back home and near others of his kind, he was able to maintain a certain level of sanity, as well as keeping his beast at bay. He walked just around the bike, finding the source of the noise.

The older man was positioned in the driver’s seat of a rundown truck, the door open. Sprawled across his lap was a woman, her skirt raised, her naked ass in the air. As the sharp cracking sounds floated into the night, he couldn’t help but grin. The woman was getting a hard spanking. Right here, in the middle of the parking lot. Well, what the hell.

Larken’s cock was throbbing, pushing against the tight confines of his jeans, another reminder that his dark cravings were reaching a boiling point. He stood in the darkness, his eyes locked on the event, longing to be the man giving the round of discipline.

After a few seconds, he turned away, almost disgusted with himself.

Striding into the bar, he was easily able to see over the majority of customers given his size. The majority parted the way as he strolled through, moving his head from right to left as he scanned for his buddies. Fortunately, almost no one paid him much attention, which was a good sign. He found them in the back, parked next to a pool table. While there was no real privacy given the number of people, the single row of bar top tables was far removed from the dance floor and customers crowding against the bar.

“You’re late.” The deep baritone filtered into the night, husky and more like a rippling growl. As if the man was trying to be top dog.

Larken shot his harsh gaze toward the man he considered his best buddy, keeping the cold and calculating stare for a solid minute before breaking into a grin. “Plane was late. Then settling into the cabin was… interesting to say the least. Appreciate you opening it up for me.” Trevor was known as the most dangerous of the trio, his skills given his military stint legendary, at least from what he’d heard. Trevor had also left town for several months, returning of his own accord, the loyalty to his people an admirable trait, one Larken didn’t share. Bristol was the homebody, having rarely left Lafayette. At least the man’s construction firm was renowned. Neither man had changed to any degree, one of the perks of their breed. They’d kept in touch over the years. They were his betas to the alpha role he’d been born into. He couldn’t believe he was even thinking of the ancient ways.

What do you think? I do love my lion King…

Kisses

Piper

AMAZON PURCHASE LINK BUT THIS WILL BE UP ON OTHER SITES…