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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He’s Dangerous and the Kind of Man You Can’t Say No To

I do love my dark and dangerous men, especially when they’re sexy, rugged and dominating. What if he was also your father’s enemy, attempting to destroy everything the man has worked for? Our heroine is faced with this difficult scenario and is determined to destroy the son of a mafia Don. What do you think would happen if she’s caught in the act of revenge? Hmmm…

My latest and a deliciously dark romance. Don’t worry. There’s an HEA.

CAUGHT: A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE

SYNOPSIS

You don’t say no to a man like him.

If you’re forced to come to an arrangement with someone as dangerous as Jagger caught_fullCalduchi, it means he’s about to take what he wants, and you’ll give it to him… even if it’s your body.

I got caught snooping where I didn’t belong, and Jagger made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. A week with him where his rules are the only rules, or his bought and paid for cops take me to jail.

He’s going to punish me, train me, and master me completely. When he’s used me so shamefully I blush just to think about it, maybe he’ll let me go home… or maybe he’ll decide to keep me.

EXCERPT

Jagger

I had to give Lola Markum credit. She was one tenacious girl. To think she could infiltrate my operation, securing information in order to help in her endeavors was preposterous. But here she was, sitting in my office chair after picking the lock on my door. More than impressive. Finding out who she really was had taken less than thirty minutes of searching the internet. Even the use of her mother’s maiden name and a ridiculous first name had been creative, albeit she was no criminal mastermind, or I wouldn’t have discovered her operation so easily. Still, I absolutely wanted nothing more than to have her in my arms, let alone my bed.

My suspicions regarding my new employee had formulated overnight. Call it years of intense training with my father. The pieces had been too perfect, the timing just right. Even her ‘oh shucks’ demeanor the night before, while polished and convincing, had raised a red flag. Here she was, no doubt ready for a fight.

I should be furious. Instead, I was ecstatic in the most unusual way.

She’d blossomed into a stunning woman, no longer the bright-eyed teenager I could never get off my mind. The vile and delicious things I wanted to do to her at this moment were no doubt illegal in several states. Almost instantly I concocted a plan.

I stood in the doorway, my arms crossed, a wide grin on my face. She was far too busy searching through my things to notice that I was watching and even admiring her. After a few seconds, I made myself known.

“Well. Well. What do we have here?”

Her head snapping, she narrowed her eyes, her grip on the files remaining. Her lower lip quivered even though her eyes held a wild fire of burning hatred.

As well as carnal desire.

“Ms. Markum. I must admit. You are very tenacious.” I issued the words casually, offhandedly.

“Mr. Bishop. Or should I address you as Mr. Calduchi, son of the infamous bloodsucker, Montego Calduchi?”

“Wow. Bloodsucker. My family has been called many things over the years, but that one is new.” The fact she was neither impressed nor terrified was stimulating, creating another round of intense hunger furrowing through my loins. “Just for the record, I haven’t used my given surname in years, but then you’ve already figured that out. Haven’t you? But you do know exactly who my father is and what he can do.”

“Threats so soon, Mr. Bishop? I thought that was beneath you, given how hard you’ve attempted to live a stellar life.” She snickered and rolled her eyes.

“Very bold for someone in your position.” I had to admit, I wanted to see just how far this would go.

She rose from the desk, fingering the papers. “You are right. I figured out many things about you. You have a long list of accomplishments. I wonder if anyone realizes that you’re nothing but a monster as well as a murderer.”

“And who do you believe I’ve murdered, Ms. Markum, or should I call you Lola? Yes, I think I will. Given how close we were last night, I think first names are in order. Kitty was cute, but Lola suits the formidable woman you’ve become.” I noticed a single bead of perspiration sliding down the side of her face. She was nervous, concerned at what I might do.

“My father for one, but I’m certain there are bodies buried all over Chicago. And you could never understand the meaning of the word ‘close.’ Don’t kid yourself.”

“Murder?” The words actually stung. The girl certainly had a mouth on her. I also could sense a great deal of love for her father and I had to wonder why they’d been estranged. “I assure you that your father was healthy when he walked into the ballroom. What happened to him was… horrible. If you’re asking if my hands are soaked in blood, they aren’t. I may be a terrible man, but I’m no killer.”

“Of course you aren’t,” Lola snorted. “Fascinating how you threatened my father, doing your best to strong-arm him into signing a contract with you, destroying everything he worked so hard to achieve. You don’t call that murder? I can see the blood on your hands from here.”

“I had a business transaction with your father and I amsorry for your loss.” The girl was excellent at her goading tactics. However, trying to rile me wasn’t in her best interest. I’d played this game for far too many years.

“Bullshit, Jagger. You couldn’t care less about anything but money. That’s obvious.”

Dangerous man with gun“That’s where you are very wrong.” I moved closer, keeping my eyes locked on her. I had no way of knowing if she carried a weapon, which I doubted, but I couldn’t take any chances.

“You honestly believe my father was trying to extort you or your company in any manner? He was a kind, gentle soul and a respectable businessman. He never did anything wrong in his entire life. He worked his fingers to the bone, unlike you, who had everything you ever wanted in life.”

Okay, now she was getting under my skin. A hint of anger flared, and I inched even closer, standing over her. “What I know is that your father had a gambling problem. He was in way over his head. In fact, he begged my father for more time to deal with his issues. Begged him.” The information startled her. I could tell by the nervous tic in the corner of her mouth. I hissed under my breath. There’d been no reason to share the information in that manner, but she needed to know the truth about her father—brutal tactics or not.

She narrowed her eyes, looking away for only an instant before regaining her vile expression, one full of hatred as well as rage. “That’s a fucking lie. You will not sully his reputation in any manner. You’re a horrible person.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter. “What did you hope to accomplish yourself, Lola? What did you think you were going to do, breaking into my office after lying to me, stealing from me and all for what? A better price on the contract? Avenging your father’s untimely demise?”

Lola rounded the desk, moving closer yet keeping what I had no doubt she considered a safe distance. “For one, yes on all counts. What you offered him was ridiculous and you know it. You’re no businessman, Jagger. You’re just a terrible prick.”

My cock twitched from her scathing flares being tossed in my direction. I did enjoy a wicked sparring event from time to time. “Let me ask you a question and tell me the truth. What do you know about finances? You’ve only recently opened a bookstore in the middle of God knows where. Granted, attaching the small establishment to a wine bistro isn’t a bad idea. However, you’re in over your head, Lola. You also have no idea who you are dealing with. Sadly, you obviously didn’t know your father very well. That’s right. You left town how long ago? You changed your name. Why? Because you were embarrassed at who your father was doing business with?” I inched closer and could smell the hint of fear, but the fury on her face was formidable. “You knew he was in bed with the mafia, my father’s organization. That’s why you left town. Isn’t it?” I was throwing spitballs, but I knew instantly my assumptions were correct. She’d broken contact with Richard years before.

“How. Dare. You.”

I shook my head, keeping a smile on my face. “Let’s not play games, Lola. Your father was in over his head with few options. His untimely death doesn’t change certain facts.”

She dared inch even closer, narrowing her eyes. “Certain facts. Let’s talk about those. Shall we? What I know is that between his two locations and the various contracts that had recently been signed, my father’s company was worth almost ten million dollars. You offered him two point eight million. Even given the fact you were using creative math, he would have been a fool to sign on the dotted line.”

I was impressed even more. “Nicely done. However, the sale will eliminate his gambling debt.”

“He’s dead. His gambling debt died with him. The sale is off.” She folded her arms as if satisfied she’d one-upped me.

“Ah, but he left you the company and no doubt his estate and other holdings. Did he not?” I crowded her space, inhaling to the point I made her even more uncomfortable. By the look on her face I knew I was right. There was no one else Richard would have left his business or amassed fortune to. She was the only living family he had left.

“I…” She took a decided step backwards and away from me, her brow furrowed, her mouth pursed.

I took another step closer. “Seems we have a dilemma. You have assumed his debt, lovely Lola. It’s unfortunate but owing over a million dollars to the Calduchi family isn’t something we take lightly.”

“You are a fucking murderer,” she whispered.

“Merely a businessman, but you don’t understand the ways of my father. He doesn’t care who pays off the debt or how. He has graciously allowed me to take the helm of this growing company, so in a sense, your father was lucky that he didn’t have to deal with my father’s soldiers.”

“Soldiers. You mean Montego’s hired guns, assassins preying on innocent people. I’ve heard the stories. I’ve read about the bloodshed. You’re just like him. Cold. Calculating. Bastard.”

Bristling, I refused to allow her to see that she’d broken through the thin line surrounding me, the one called humanity. Yes, I’d carried out acts of revenge during my early years and she had no idea how dangerous I could really be, but I was no murderer. “What do you think would have happened to your father if I hadn’t intervened? Now, imagine what my father and his assassins would do to a beautiful woman such as yourself. I can think of many intriguing concepts.”

Lola exhaled. “Another threat. Keep them coming, Jagger.”

“I speak only the truth and I like you, more than you know. In fact, I don’t want to see anything happen to you or your father’s legacy. I think we should discuss new business terms.” I could tell she had no memory of the incidents as a child or our connection, but the same electricity remained, clouding the air, just as it had in the bar. Just as it had when we were teenagers. Had she not put the pieces together or had she simply not bothered to pay attention to who I was? The moment was almost defining, as if winning this particular battle with her was more important than any in my career, or my life. Over a teenage unrequited crush. I was playing games with her life. What I’d said about Montego wasn’t a lie. If she didn’t sell, she would be abducted, and no doubt used before she was killed. I declined to allow that to happen.

She held her breath, refusing to look away. “You actually think I’m stupid enough to talk any level of business with someone like you?” A laugh bubbled past her lips, sheer amusement crossing her face.

My reaction to her was strong, my patience wearing thin. Grabbing her wrist in one hand, I yanked her closer, lowering my head until our lips almost touched. “You are right about who I am, Ms. Markum. However, you’re forgetting something vital here. You broke into my office and I caught you red-handed. Not only can I but I will prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law. What do you think will happen to that brand-new business of yours?” The tic on her lip returned, a slight shake of her hand. “I think you are beginning to understand that you crossed the wrong person.”

“Fuck you. I will ruin you and I don’t give a damn who your family just happens to be.”

“Very interesting as well as foolish statement coming from a woman in your position.” I wanted nothing more than to crush my mouth over hers, make certain she fully understood that she was now under my control. Patience wasn’t a virtue I subscribed to in any manner.

“You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”

What do you think? Now, imagine the deal this kind of man might make. HOT off the presses and I hope you enjoy! 

Kisses…

Piper

PURCHASE LINK

Highlighting New and Enticing Authors

I wanted to take today and highlight three new authors to Blushing Books. Well, Bethany Leigh wrote several books then took some time off, but she’s back with an upcoming and very exciting book. I think it’s important to make certain we support new authors. Writing is hard work, much more so than I think readers understand. It’s not just about sitting back, typing several thousand words, but creating a world of pleasure, mystery, angst. As authors, we love what we do, but… When a book is finished, there’s so much more that’s involved. Editing, book covers, blurbs and marketing. Lordy the marketing.

I hope you enjoy just a little taste of three authors.

BETHANY LEIGH – GROOMED – COMING SOON

It’s 1999 and Charlotte and Connor have just got the internet at home. One night, Charlotte comes across an intriguing forum. It consists mostly of women posters whose husbands discipline them when they misbehave. In other words, they’re living Groomed finalCharlotte’s dream!

Charlotte’s marriage is in trouble. Work and family pressures have pushed her and Connor apart. The forum posters claim domestic discipline makes marriages closer, more intimate, that sex is through the roof. Charlotte wonders whether introducing the old-fashioned discipline she yearns for can bring her and Connor closer together too.

But Connor doesn’t take to the lifestyle and the failure frustrates Charlotte and drives them even further apart. In desperation, she seeks out a disciplinarian through the forum to satisfy her needs. He seems caring, thoughtful and is willing to take things slowly, allow time to build trust.

But there’s a missing backpacker who just might have a connection with the same disciplinarian.

Can Charlotte trust this charming man she’s met on the internet?

And how will it affect her marriage to Connor?

Will Charlotte ever get the loving discipline she craves?

ASHA DANIELS – HER RUGGED COWBOY – AVAILABLE NOW

I am a cowboy. I ride hard and play harder, refusing to deny any desires, no matter the cost.

Trust? There is no trust left, not after the hand I’ve been dealt.

Her Rugged Cowboys_200x300When she walks into my life, a spitfire and all woman, I will take what I want.

That is, if my brother doesn’t capture her heart…

Cowboy – synonymous with sexy as hell, the kind of rugged and dominating man every woman craves.

When there are three of them, the hunger becomes intoxicating.

For one woman, a caustic relationship requires a change of venue. Little did she know what the Pensive Steed Ranch would offer.

WILLA BRADLEY – HARVEST MOON RIDE – AVAILABLE NOW

Multiple word champion equestrienne, Etta Ross, has a dilemma.  How does she rescue the small band of mustangs from the rustlers who want to smuggle them to Mexico for slaughter while avoiding a run in with the legendary Texas Rangers?  If all she had to do was save the mustangs, her mission would be easy.  But she runs afoul of sexy Texas Ranger, Brody Jensen, when she’s wounded and stranded on foot in the middle of Willa Bradley Harvest Moon Ride -- Covernowhere.

Not buying her explanation that she was out for a walk, Brody is bound and determined to protect Etta who is adamant that she can save herself.  Brody is convinced that a few trips over his knee for a bare bottom spanking followed by his dominant lovemaking is just the remedy to Etta’s headstrong cowgirl ways.

Pretty tasty – eh? I hope you’ll take a chance and grab a copy.

Enjoy your day

Kisses 

Piper

What’s coming soon on my blog? Spanking Implements. 

 

The Saga is Set to Begin – Fire Devil

As I’m sitting here this morning watching the horrific fires occurring in California, I can’t believe what I have to write later today is about a terrible fire. The men and women firefighters, smokejumpers and First Responders are true heroes in my book. The danger they place themselves in every day in order to save lives as well as property is amazing. Smokejumpers are an elite group of firefighters specifically trained to provide from the air assault on fires. They often parachute into a fire zone, providing various kinds of support as they fight the raging flames.

Fire Devil is a seven book saga revolving around the lives of seven smokejumpers and the entire team in Missoula Montana. I fell in love with Missoula many years ago after my husband renovated a Best Products store in the gorgeous city. He brought back pictures and unforgettable stories and Fire Devil was born in my mind. The stories are action adventure, danger and intrigue, but they are also love stories, romance built on relearning to trust in order to love. Every man has a story. Every THree Rivers 500x755woman fights for their love. And every character should break your heart.

On October 24th, a free prequel – book one of two installments – will be made available and free. Standing at the River’s Edge. The stories pick a moment in time for each smokejumper. The stories are suspenseful, sad, happy, dangerous and full of – you got it – love. Three Rivers Run Deep – Book One of Fire Devil – will be available on November 4th. I hope you join in sharing with me a first excerpt of what I hope will be a timeless story.

THREE RIVERS RUN DEEP

Wha. Wha. Wha!

“We’re at the jump site,” Cooper screeched over the increasing noise.

“You’re not going yet. We have to wait for our orders,” Stoker insisted as he fumbled with his gear. Wind whipped through the open bay of the plane, creating a howling boom. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as well as something else. Fear.

“Take a look at that shit down there,” Cooper huffed and shuffled toward the edge. “We can’t wait.”

Stoker reached out. “No. We follow orders. Remember?”

“Fuck orders. They’re people down there needing our help.” Cooper gave him a haunted look then donned his helmet.

As Stoker trudged, determined to stop his friend from jumping, he heard Cooper’s last words just as he reached out, grabbing Cooper. ‘See you in paradise.’

“What the fuck?” Stoker Hansen jerked awake, swimming up from the horrific dream. Swirling visions clouded his foggy mind, ugly reminders of a mission of healing turned into carnage. Rubbing his eyes, he twisted his head back and forth as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. The sound of the alarm continued, blaring into the close-knit quarters. He sucked in his breath and held his hands over his ears. You’re okay. This isn’t war. You’re home and safe. As his breathing slowed, he shivered. Yeah, at least he was safe.

“Get the hell up, dude. We have a hot one.”

“What? Cooper?” Stoker asked. His stomach remained unsettled, the usual nausea pooled in the pit of his stomach.

“Cooper? Jesus Christ, Stoker. Get up sleeping beauty. We have a call.”

He plopped his feet on the floor and shook the cobwebs away. He wasn’t in Afghanistan. He wasn’t crouched in a pool of blood. This was his best friend, Garcia. Okay. I’m okay. After a deep breath he sprang into action, shoving his feet into boots and grabbing his heat and fireproof jacket. “Give me the details.” Live your life. You deserve. The sentiment would never leave him. He’d never be free of the words whispered by a respected soldier.

“Three alarm fire at a residence. Gotta hurry before it spreads to the woods,” Garcia stated and raced away.

Men ran past him, heading for the engines. They all knew the drill, could perform it in their sleep. Stoker hopped onto the engine a split second before it rolled out of the garage. The moon was full, highlighting a gorgeous star filled early morning. Within seconds the sky turned orange. “Shit.”

“Third one in as many days.”

Stoker nodded and glanced at his buddy. Garcia Puevos was grinning, enjoying the moment. The guy was an adrenaline junkie. “You have to wonder if arson is involved.”

“Jesus, bud. You think everything is a conspiracy.” Garcia slapped him on the back.

“Not everything.” Stoker grabbed the metal bar and leaned out as the engine picked up speed. Missoula, Montana had seen one too many raging fires in less than six weeks. Most of the investigations indicated they’d been started by carelessness or accident. His gut told him otherwise. Even the smoke jumping team had been called in.

Within seconds they were on scene. Two engine companies had responded, which meant they faced a serious situation.

“Fuck me. Unbelievable,” Stoker whispered under his breath as he secured his helmet. Flames licked up over the roofline of the massive house. Embers floated into the huge oak trees flanking the perimeter. An angry glow of red and tangerine brightened the sky as the sound of crackling wood created a roar.

“We do this by the book.”

Stoker glanced at his Captain of three years. The man was respected in every circle, including the Governor’s office. Captain Banyon could even run for office himself. “Could be arson.”

Captain Banyon shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re called in as backup so you protect the outskirts. From what I’ve heard, nothing is secure yet and the fire’s too hot.”

Garcia jumped off the engine before it rolled to a stop, jerking the hose from its perch. “Everyone out?” he called as the various firefighters rushed into action.

“Family is out. Pets still inside,” came a voice from the smoke.

“Crap. Let’s go,” Stoker screeched as he took off running, turning on the powerful light attached to his helmet. Ominous shadows crisscrossed the terrain, creating a sense of foreboding. He heard Garcia calling from the distance. There was little time to try and save anything, let alone the family pets, yet he was damn sure gonna try. He yanked down his mask and raced into the melee, scanning the perimeter as he searched for an opening.

“What the hell are you doing?” Captain Banyon hissed.

Garcia flanked his side and lifted his mask as a team of early responders motioned their way. “Where are they?”

“The family is over there.” One of the men pointed as he wrangled with the hose, shooting water up at the roofline.

“Not the family. The pets.” Stoker located the front door. There might be two minutes before the entire second floor collapsed into the first. He calculated whether there would be a backdraft. No, the fire was burning in a controlled albeit destructive pattern. The house would be a complete loss.

“Not gonna happen. They’re trapped too far in.”

He glared at the shadowed mask of a man he didn’t know and turned toward Garcia. “We have ninety seconds. Let’s go.”

“You got it,” Garcia answered as both men took off.

“Get back here!” the Captain barked.

They ignored the command as Stoker kicked down the wooden door. A billow of black smoke poured from the interior. He tugged out his flashlight, turning on the high-powered beam, and for a second tipped his head, listening for any telltale signs. A strangled yelp grabbed his attention.

A single terrified woof trickled from the blackness. A second and deeper bark followed.

“Over there!” Garcia yelled.

Stoker kicked over a chair as he moved forward.

Boom!

Garcia shoved Stoker to the ground as debris slammed down from above. “Need to get out of here.”

“Not without the dogs.”

“You’re nuts, man,” Garcia hissed as he shook off fallen wallboard.

Stoker didn’t care. This was a mission he refused to fail. Another booming sound brought a series of whimpers from the dogs. He dug through wallboard and fallen wood until his hand wrapped around a trembling bit of fur. He managed to grasp two dogs, cradling them to his chest before crawling backward and getting to his feet.

“Come on. It’s about to give!” Garcia warned.

Stoker swiveled to his right, crouched low and headed for what he thought was the front door. Within a split second he became disoriented. The dogs howled and he knew they were struggling to catch their breath. His chest heavy, he shook his head as he recounted his steps. He yanked off his mask, placing the heavy plastic over their faces and shoved his way through the debris. After gulping acrid smoke, he stumbled.

I hope you enjoyed! Don’t forget that the fabulous Fall Over Freebie Giveaway ends on October 12th. 24 FREE books (including one of mine – His Judgment) made available to you. Sexy and very hot men, fabulous stories and all kinds of wicked sex. Here’s the link and enjoy!

https://www.instafreebie.com/gg/tS8GY37exZs7Nu6J1N7R

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Kisses…

Piper

My Special Guest – Cassandre Dayne

I’m continuing my serious on highlighting various authors. This particular author has written over 200 books and has worked with several publishing companies. She was also in charge of two imprints at Booktrope. While she’s written everything from BDSM to LGBT, her favorites are psychological thrillers. Her upcoming release with Blushing Books just might scare you to death. Coming tomorrow! Say hello to…

CASSANDRE DAYNE – RAVAGED

SYNOPSIS

When the final draft of erotic thriller author, Carrington Winters latest book turns Ravaged_500x755up in the wrong hands, the mistake sets off a course of events, some involving a complete stranger. The manuscript detailing her darkest desires, as well as mirroring a series of real-life murders, she’s drawn to the mystery man, throwing her inhibitions aside.

Haunted by the murder of his wife, architect Jackson Devereaux finds Carrington’s manuscript and her hidden needs too tempting to resist. As they learn to trust and explore their growing desires, they begin a cat and mouse game of guarded rendezvous until a murderer seeks revenge, targeting their budding love.

As new and heinous murders rock Chicago, Carrington is forced to face a past she was determined to shelve in an ugly black box, but secrets and lies refuse to be denied. What secrets do they both hold that could tear them apart? Is their new romance strong enough to survive a murderer intent upon destroying their lives?

EXCERPT

Do you hunger like I do?

Do you crave what only I can give you?

Come… be with me forever…

Carrington Winters snapped her head up and sighed before catching a glimpse of her notepad. She’d been doodling again. As she read the words twice she grimaced and looked down at the small trashcan nestled against the corner of her desk. She’d written the same passage at least six times in the last two nights. And every time in red ink. Hell, she didn’t even know she owned a red pen. “What’s wrong with me?” The answer was far too damning to think about. Push away the ugly thought. Yeah, that’ll do it. Growling, she shook her head. She was simply exhausted from her self-imposed brutal schedule. That’s all. Time to get back to business.

Brushing a damp strand of hair from her face, Carrington fingered her teacup and sighed. “It’s almost done. Almost?” Blurry eyed, she gazed at the screen and realized all the letters were starting to melt together. Groaning, she sat back in her chair and took a sip of the lukewarm tea. What she really wanted was a tall glass of merlot, but if she didn’t hit send on her manuscript tonight there would be hell to pay. Her editor had been patient. The wine could wait until she was absolutely done. The damn errand had cost her nearly two hours. She hated traffic and traffic jams and assholes that acted like the road belonged to them.

Chuckling, she knew she would probably kill off the bastards in her next book. Probably? She was in the business of killing creatively. The thought gave her a smile. Mixing erotic and mass murder was an interesting twist but one she loved. There was no doubt she was enjoying being able to murder some of her characters and not simply have them romp in bed. Brushing the tip of her finger back and forth across the seam of her mouth, she reread the last two pages then read them again. Dear God, she was bone tired but she had to finish. “You can do it.” Giving her computer the finger, she moaned. Sleep was highly overrated. Still, she loved the book and was thrilled with the outcome.

Her Hidden Desires, Carrington’s highly anticipated second in her gritty erotic crime thriller novels, was already pre-sold to the tune of thousands at every major e-book shelf internet store and failure to deliver wasn’t an option. The remaining brick and mortar stores had surprised her with the quantity of their orders—or shocked her editor anyway. The story was headline material. Centered around an incredible real-life event in her hometown of Portsmouth, Ohio almost three years before, Carrington knew this one could be a best seller.

Climbing to her feet, she walked to the bulletin board nestled in the back corner of her office and fingered the copious newspaper clippings pinned across the four by six corkboard. She’d read every article, every internet piece to garner the feel of the dark story. The murders had shut down the small town for two months and the killer had escaped. Shivering, she held her arms and wasn’t able to go down the road of wretched memories. She’d come too far to fall into the trap again. Her story was simply a way of giving a voice to the mutilated women and to allow them retribution within the pages of her novel. While completely fictional, with every scenario totally different than the actual chain of events, the haunting piece was certain to ruffle a few feathers. Carrington only hoped the publication wouldn’t drag her into hell.

In truth, changing from being what some called a fluffy erotic romance author to an erotic crime storyteller was a calculated risk and one she welcomed with open arms, hence the name change to C.W. Wynters for the planned series. Exhausted, Carrington sauntered toward the bank of windows, allowing her a spectacular view of the great lakes, and sighed as she palmed the glass. There was no doubt she loved Chicago but she remained homesick for her small town nestled at the banks of the Ohio River. Shaking her head, she gazed out at the star filled sky and smiled.

There was something so peaceful about working from home in the wee hours of the morning. More committed than ever, she headed back to her desk determined to finish the book, grab a glass of wine and ease into a sudsy bath. Then maybe when she finally fell into bed she could sleep without the vicious nightmares jolting her every other hour or so. Shivering, she exhaled and pushed the ugly thoughts away as she glanced at her watch. Thank God, she didn’t have any early appointments.

Staring at the last paragraph for what had to be a full five minutes, she rubbed her eyes then repeated the passage out loud, unsure if anything she’d typed for the last hour made any sense. “And as Sheila glared down at the killer, knife nestled in her bloody hand, she smiled. His vacant eyes shimmering in the moonlight remained mesmerizing. After all, she’d seen his domineering expression every time they’d made love. Her body shaking, she remembered all the lies and the promises. Hell, she’d been such a fool but no longer. She was different now and one who would never allow a man to take advantage of her again. Hearing the subtle plop, plop sound she finally tilted her head, enabling her to look directly at the slickened tile floor. She brushed the back of her hand over her swollen lips and caught a glimpse of the knife, glistening in the dim lighting and couldn’t help but smile. The pool of red blood reminded her she was very much alive and the monster, her monster was dead. Dropping the knife, Sheila held her hand in front of her face and began laughing as the realization hit her hard. She’d become the monster she’d so feared.”

“Not bad.” Rubbing her arms as a cold shiver trickled down her back, Carrington nodded in respect to her work. The ending was much grittier than the one before, her editor gave her some great advice. Then again, this was a far different ending than the real story. Finally satisfied, she saved the piece and opened up her email. As she searched for her editor’s email address she laughed. A new computer, a new operating system and a new email account meant no saved email addresses. Sadly, the switch had been a necessary evil since her entire life had been hacked and certain files corrupted while she’d taken a few days off.

Hissing, she grabbed her notebook full of her contacts and flipped to the page listing her editor. Blinking furiously, she chastised herself for wearing her contacts for so many long hours. Hell, she could barely see a damn thing. Jennifer Devereau had more than one email and only the favored authors had her private one. It seemed Carrington had come up in the world. The thought giving her a mischievous grin, she typed in the address, added the attachment and couldn’t help but tease. Here you go. As requested and I think you’ll find the haunting ending much more to your liking. And no more teasing about the kinky moments being what I want.

Carrington nodded in satisfaction and hit send. The sad thing was Jennifer had no idea just how much she craved every single one of the acts portrayed in the book. From bondage and the kinky clubs to acts of domination as explored by her heroine turned killer, Carrington had always enjoyed the kinkier sides of sex—if no other place than in her dark fantasies. The few experimentations had left her breathless and hungering for more but she wasn’t sure she could ever trust anyone that much again. Then again, with one call she could have exactly what she craved. No, she wasn’t going there. Period. Sighing, she turned off the large monitor and padded into the kitchen. Now she could relax and celebrate. What a shame no one was up at almost three in the morning.

Pouring a hefty glass of wine, she stood gazing at nothing but her mind was already reeling around book number three. Halfway done, she needed to put herself in the middle of the victim’s world and that might mean a trip to the location where the horrific crimes happened. She loved doing research and this one was centered around the seediest kink clubs patronized by the upper crust of society. Murder and sex knew no age or money brackets. Even Jennifer was excited about the additional aspects of the series. If she could keep up the pace putting out four of these a year, along with her other erotic pieces, she might make a name for herself by the end of 2018. Nibbling her bottom lip, she walked past the bulletin board and stood staring at the ugly pictures, bloody photographs of the real victims. How could the woman have endured so much pain? Swallowing hard, understanding wasn’t difficult.

Do you hunger like I do?

WHERE TO FIND CASSANDRE

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Cassandre-Dayne-178164866655/

Amazon:  https://amazon.com/author/cassandredayne

Bookbub: https://bookbub.com/authors/cassandre-dayne

Blog:  www.cassandredayne.wordpress.com

twitter: https://twitter.com/cassandredayne

Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/cassandredayne

Thank you so much for being here. Looks utterly terrifying!

Kisses…

Piper

Fire Devil – the Series

I’m so happy to announce that I have a new SIZZLING series coming to Blushing Books. This one has been in the making for months, even years. I absolutely adore smokejumpers. They are awesome, sexy and true heroes in my book. I have an amazing cover artist, Brenda Gonet, who has already created all seven covers. I thought I’d give you a taste of the first story – coming in October. But you have to wait to see the cover for a little while… Let me know what you think.

FIRE DEVIL – THREE RIVERS RUN DEEP

SYNOPSIS

Fire Devil: Whirlwind of fire

Zulies: Smokejumpers in Missoula

Jackals – the elite team of sexy smokejumpers

Secrets to tell. Love to conquer. Lives to save.

Fire Devil banner

Nestled in the heart of Missoula Montana are seven smokejumpers, exclusively trained men sworn to protect lives and the majestic land surrounding them. They are the Jackals, a name coined by their Captain. By day they indulge in their penchant for danger. By night they exude passion. While they have yet to find love, they are ready to lavish a woman with adoration, indulging their every desire. They share a bond of friendship as well as need. Burnout, an exclusive club, caters to domestic discipline. Each man has a story to tell, one of heartache, yearning and tragedy. Every smokejumper will steal your heart as they forge through fires, saving souls. Are you ready for their brand of domination?

Prevent. Protect. Preserve. This is their motto…

THREE RIVERS RUN DEEP

Rock singer Jessica Dunn is at a crossroads in her life, as well as in her music career. On a slippery downwards spiral, she’s yesterday’s news, the music no longer satisfying. Her love life is also nonexistent. She knew it was time for a change. When a friend suggests a vacation in Missoula Montana, she accepts, albeit with reservations. Cowboy country isn’t her style. While meeting a sexy rancher has delicious perks, she doesn’t like his attitude. After seeing a taste of the man inside, she’s determined to peel away his armor.

Stoker Hansen is no lady’s man. In truth, the wounded vet prefers tending to his ranch in order to soothe the personal beasts fighting to breach the surface. A fireman by trade, his cowboy behavior garners a lengthy suspension, keeping him from his beloved career. A damning secret haunts his every move. A chance meeting with a new girl in town lights his fire, but the opinionated vixen has a mouth and a bad attitude. Sparks fly, but he’d prefer to take her over his knee for a hard spanking versus develop any kind of a relationship. Still, he remains intrigued.

A series of events pushes Stoker into re-joining the smoke jumping team, if only for a single caustic event. The plane ride reminds him of the war and the sacrifice made by his best friend. Time for payback, he faces his greatest challenge in an effort to save his honor. Can the sexy singer still his aching heart as he learns to forgive? Will she leave the past behind, finding love as well as her voice?

UNEDITED EXCERPT

I remember when I was a little girl. I believed in fantasies. Handsome knights on large steeds, protecting everyone around them. I used to believe in heroes. I no longer do. 

You’re nothing and deserve to die alone…

“Everyone. Welcome to the stage, Jessica Dunn and Fringe!”

Jessica Dunn exhaled and clenched the neck of her guitar. Words. They were just ugly words. The vibrant lights from the stage ceiling danced across the band’s instruments, swirling in a random yet controlled fashion, neon flashes creating sensual images. She’d been through this before, now thousands of times. Once excited at the prospect of facing an audience, she was exhausted and no longer able to convey her once vivacious personality.

“Go on. You act like you’re heading for your funeral, girl.”

She gave the drummer and the man she spent most of her time with the finger. Cody Falcon grinned. Damn if she didn’t shiver. His dimples and shaggy raven hair always made her swoon. “Do you see anyone that gives a shit out there?”

“What are you talking about?” Cody leaned down, licking her earlobe. “The crowd loves ya.”

“Right. You mean all two dozen or so scattered in the theatre?” She darted a glance out into the audience, shading her eyes from the intense lighting. She and the band once filled massive stadiums. Now they were lucky to get five or six hundred people to attend their performances. They were once considered ‘the’ up and coming rock band, their first single going platinum. The second was heralded as the album of the decade. Now? They were left to play gigs at fairs and two-bit concert halls.

“Stop bellowing like a damn kitten. Get to work.”

After debating her ability to run far away, she adjusted the strap holding the guitar in place and took a step toward the slender opening of the curtain. This wasn’t what she’d hungered for fifteen years before. Act like a professional. Entertain. She brushed her hand through her long red hair and tossed her head back. “You mean tigress don’t you, big boy?”

“That’s my sexy gal.”

Taking long strides, she walked out on stage, waving to the crowd. Temporarily blinded, she whistled and laughed as she found her way toward the microphone. The band members were settling in behind her, taking their usual place, something they’d done countless times during their tenure together. “Anybody ready to rock the house?”

Those attending clapped, their whistles giving her a boost.

“Come on. Let’s get this party rollin’!” Her sultry voice reverberated across the shadows.

She shot Wally, the base player a look, winking and giving a short bow. They were a frisky group and their audiences loved their style. ‘Loved’ as in past tense. Times were different. “We are so ready to have a good time tonight. Are ya’ll ready?” A sickening feeling remained in her gut. She’d fought her nerves for a solid year. Tonight, she was ready to pass out from terror. Hands on the guitar. Start strumming. Everything will be okay. She forced back a single tear as the music began to play in the background. She knew the words by heart. She’d written every damn song after all. But that was a long time ago.

Jessica blinked several times as she shifted from foot to foot. “We are…” The words were lost. She gulped for air and fingered the strings, playing a chord that made no sense.

The crowd cheered, clapping as several people moved toward the edge of the stage.

She froze, unable to take a step or remember the words. Her heart raced as she attempted to focus on anything in front of her. “We are the ones who will…” Goddamn it! Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Wally walking toward her, his smile plastic. He didn’t give a shit about the band or anything to do with their record career. He wanted money and fame, something they’d tried so hard to achieve. She resisted lashing out, scratching his face.

“We are the ones who will rock you, rock you,” Wally sang as he pumped the bass and strutted closer. He gave her an encouraging nod, mouthing ‘you can do it’.

Shimmers of light pulsated around her, mixing with echoes of the music. This was their signature song, the one that rocked the house. She swayed back and forth as she tried to grasp onto what she was supposed to do. A thumping boom of the drums behind her jolted her back to reality. She stamped her foot and gave Wally a hateful look. He wasn’t supposed to be singing. Anger shoved her past an unseen threshold. “We are the ones who will rock you, rock you. We are the ones who fight.”

Wally nodded and grinned, singing alongside her.

All she could think about for the next three songs was kicking his motherfucking ass.

What do you think? I hope you enjoyed and I’ll post more coming soon.

Kisses…

Piper

Don’t forget I have some fabulous upcoming guests on my blog including Paige Parsons, Sheri Lynn, Jaime Phillips and Vanessa Brooks. Tomorrow’s guest? Jaime Phillips!

His Judgment – First Full Chapter

I thought you might like a real taste of His Judgment – so why not the first full chapter? That should give you just a hint of the heat, the thrill ride and the mystery. I hope that you’ll consider purchasing the full book. Be warned, from what a reviewer mentioned, you might need a new pair of panties after reading…

Enjoy! Don’t forget, I have a special guest on my blog tomorrow – Rachel De Vine!

SYNOPSIS

Buried inside all of us are dark desires, some we refuse to acknowledge. But we man on harleycrave…

I hunger for a powerful man, one strong enough to tame the woman inside. For highly respected attorney, Joelle Parker, the words had unleashed a hunger she could no longer control. Her days are filled with prosecuting monsters, vile men and women content on vanquishing the sanctity of innocent lives. Her nights are something else entirely. Fantasies of finding a dominating man, one who could yank away the tight confines of her conservative life, finally filter into her waking hours. Tasked with prosecuting a brutal and very political murder case, her needs are placed on hold—until a chance meeting changes everything.

Randolph ‘Craze’ Mitchell is a loner, preferring long rides on his Harley to human companionship. A man of the law, he has a difficult decision to make; whether or not to run for a seat in the State Senate. Every aspect of his life is well planned, organized and exactly what he doesn’t want. His dark desires, sexual needs encompassing kink and domination, are kept locked away. No woman can withstand his requirements. No one knows the real man or the secrets he holds. Painting is his only solace, he’s come to terms with remaining very much alone—until a vivacious woman crosses his path, daring to push aside his tightly woven shield of armor.

The two enter into a passionate and intense journey, the question of consent never far from the surface. Both crave what the other offers, as well as concern about discovery, but they can’t stay away. Every act shared pushes their respective boundaries, fulfilling their carnal needs, until reality thrusts them into the light of day—a blackmailer has surfaced. Craze is faced with a horrific choice, one that could end both of their careers. Can he use his best judgment or will he succumb to his personal demons?

Can Joelle and Craze trust each other enough to explore their needs together? Their chemistry is off the chain, is it real or just a chance encounter? Can they join together to protect each other from public scrutiny?

CHAPTER ONE

“Murderer!”

“Kill the bastard!”

“He should fry in hell for what he did!”

“He’s an innocent man!”

The screams and chanting from both sides came fast and furious. Joelle Parker took the courthouse steps two at a time, avoiding the bank of reporters, family, friends and co-workers of both the accused murderer and his victims. The mob was growing in number, the case an ugly reminder of the increasing horrific crimes in Baltimore. They were all judging her on her performance or lack thereof. Even her boss had threatened to take over, stating she wasn’t qualified to handle such a high priority case. To hell with all of them. She was damn good.

When she was safely inside, she breathed out and wiped a single bead of sweat from her forehead. She refused to be on the news, fodder for some buxom blonde who would use the fifteen minutes of fame to parlay a career on national television. Not her style.

She hurried through the checkpoints and entered the courtroom, her head held high. She was early and few people were inside. Sliding into the seat, she almost laughed as her skirt rode up her thighs from friction, exposing the tops of her thigh-highs.

She fingered the thin lace and bit her lower lip. What if everyone in the courtroom knew she was wearing a silk thong and stockings? Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander to the events of the night before. The BDSM club was new in town, considered hot and very exclusive. The invitation had been a scintillating surprise, a gift from one of her previous clients. She’d tossed the gilded envelope in a drawer, rejecting the offer for almost two weeks.

Joelle was the good girl, the one who had made straight As in high school and all through college and law school. She was the best friend, tutor, mentor and big sister. She was the one who followed every rule. Everyone thought of her as the girl next door, who never, ever had kinky thoughts. She’d stymied the vixen most of her life. Only two years before had she succumbed to her burning desires, frequenting several clubs in the seediest part of downtown Baltimore.

Experimentation had turned into dark cravings until the nights became days and she’d made a choice—her career or BDSM. The need for money, clothes, an expensive car and a condominium won out in the end. A girl had to eat. What a shame.

No one had any idea about the woman inside. The search for the perfect man had gone nowhere. What man could handle such complexity? She licked her ruby stained lips as she thought about the last date she’d been on. How long had it been? Oh yes, almost three years. No man held the muster, a perfect specimen of masculinity and dominance.

When the invitation had arrived, she knew she’d received a sign. However, accepting the sign had taken courage. The memory held mixed feelings. She’d gulped down a full glass of wine, held her breath and ripped open the envelope with flair. hot man with chainsWhat she couldn’t understand is how had her client, a woman who fashioned herself a Domme, seen through her thick layers of bullshit to the girl locked inside a cage? On that very night and after two additional glasses of wine, she’d accepted the invite, happy as could be. After second guessing herself, she’d cowered in front of the television watching a documentary on The History Channel. Yeah, she had balls of mush.

The night at the club had been cathartic. Freeing. She couldn’t wait to return, even considering paying the one thousand dollar joining fee. She could afford a little luxury. She could even learn to be more careful in her methods of playtime, remaining in the shadows.

Why the hell did she care? What occurred in her private life was nobody else’s business. She was an adult, a very hungry adult and allowed to play. Then again, no one, not even her best friend knew about her penchant for pain, her desire to submit to a dominant man.

Meticulously she laid out her things, preferring an iPad to traditional pen and paper. This case wasn’t going to be easy, but she was prepared, well almost. The night before had been delicious, the event going well into the night. She snickered as she envisioned the neon lights, the pulsing music and the elongated bar. The dark and foreboding club was designed for anonymity as well as security. Anyone could be exactly who they desired to be.

She checked her watch—ten minutes to spare. After court she was going to dinner with friends, then back to the club. Whether or not she’d decide to join depended on the events of the night. A bit of show and tell was in order, complete with aspects of flogging. She tingled at the thought. Perhaps she’d run into Marco again. The stud muffin had shown her the ropes, literally. She giggled and eased her hand into her shirt, fingering the top of her push-up bra, remembering the delicious details.

“Welcome to Club Noir,” the man whispered, his face hidden behind a mask. “I’m Marco, very much at your service.”

Joelle eyed the tall drink of water and nodded. “Thank you. I’m Jewel.” She certainly wasn’t going to give him her real name.

“Jewel. A beautiful gem to be kept precious. I’m honored. I know that you’re new to our club. If you’d like, I’d be happy to show you around.”

As he held out his arm, she inhaled. His exotic scent was unrecognizable, the fragrance intoxicating just like the man. Tall and broad shouldered, his muscles were carved, his body long and lean. “I’d enjoy that.” Accepting his gesture, she clung to him as he walked her through the crowded space.

“Club Noir specializes in all aspects of BDSM. We cater to our customers, indulging them in their greatest fantasy. Tell me, sweet Jewel, do you have a particular desire, a bold hunger for aspects of kink?”

“I’m not certain.” Memories of other clubs crowded her mind. Her dreams were filled with yearning for domination as well as discipline.

“Ah, I understand. You may try almost anything you can imagine, from pain to pleasure. You are a submissive, yes?” Marco asked as he led her toward a series of closed off rooms.

Joelle could feel the heat rising from the base of her neck. “How did you know?”

He stopped and took both of her hands into his. “I’m good at what I do, Jewel. I advise, provide education and assistance for novices in every aspect. Come. Allow me to show you a spanking demonstration. This will be an excellent start in your journey.”

Journey. She’d never thought of her particular proclivities as a journey, but she accepted the word. “Yes.” Spanking. She shivered, her pussy clenching. How many nights had she lain awake craving a firm hand, a man controlling her, providing harsh discipline. Her mouth watered at the thought.

“Ms. Parker. Are you ready to present your case?”

Everyone has a dirty little secret. Everyone.

“Ms. Parker. Are you with us today?”

Jolted, Joelle shook the vivid images from her mind and blinked. The man’s brusque voice reverberated in her ears. “What?” Titters and coughs floated from behind her. She jerked her head toward the sound of the voice and grimaced. How in God’s name had she missed the judge’s entrance, standing out of respect?

This was the third time she’d been caught daydreaming in the last week. She needed a vacation. Get it together. You’re a professional. “I’m sorry, Judge Thompson. I’m more than ready to present.”

Judge Thompson narrowed his eyes and frowned as he leaned over the bench. “Are you certain or would you like a recess before we begin?”

She kept her curt smile, resisting giving the man of honor her finger. Some honorable judge he was. This was a murder case and already there were bets on the fact the criminal would never see a prison term. “No more than you, Judge.” Now there were gasps coming from the courtroom. Everyone knew she was a take-no-shit kind of prosecutor, but to continually push the judge’s buttons certainly wasn’t in her best interest.

His expression blank, his mouth thin lipped, he nodded. “Then by all means get on with it.”

Rising to her feet, Joelle pressed the flats of her hands down her skirt and eased from around the desk. She faced the jury, giving them her sweetest smile. They already didn’t like her. Half believed in the innocence of the man standing trial. The other half wanted to lynch him. All twelve had already determined that she was a bitch. She could see it in their eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for being here. Today I’m going to prove to you that Ronald Taylor is responsible for the death of Tracy Riley. In fact, I’m going to prove to you that he strangled her with his hands and a rope in her bedroom on the night of October twenty-sixth, two thousand sixteen. The facts will state that Mr. Taylor entered the home of the deceased with full intention of raping and murdering her. The crime itself is heinous in nature and through photographs and the evidence collected, I’ll be able to prove my case.”

Joelle paused, making eye contact with every member. They were of mixed ages, race, and sex, and she suspected sexual orientation. She and the defense team had gone through over two hundred people before twelve and an alternate could be equally decided upon. Long hours were the norm.

There wasn’t a word said or a breath sound given. Everyone was listening to her intently. She moved back toward the table where Ronald sat with his three male attorneys. Eyes darted back and forth, sweeping the room, and two of the attorneys were writing furiously. Ronald was demure in his actions, looking more like a boy scout than a calculated cold-blooded killer. Only the lead attorney seemed to dare look her in the eyes, a smirk riding his carved face.

She could oh-so eat the man for breakfast. They’d sparred on more than one occasion. Gregory Brentwood was her absolute nemesis and a man she could strangle on any given day. Today, she winked and swished her hips.

“I’m going to prove to you that this man had motive, opportunity and a plan he’d developed for killing Ms. Riley weeks before.” She walked past the judge, giving him a respectful nod then turned to face Ronald, moving to the edge of the defense table. “Brutal. Bloody. Torture.” Her nipples hardened when she enunciated the three words. They had the desired effect.

Everyone was hooked, waiting for her next spoken words. They would wait. She certainly wasn’t going to tip her hand. Not now. Not ever.

Exhaling, she slowly walked back to her chair, sitting down with the poise of a ballerina, and folded her hands. You bet Greggie baby was confused as fuck. This wasn’t her normal method of operation. Maybe a night at the club had brought out the wanton woman.

“Thank you, Ms. Parker. Mr. Brentwood. Are you ready to proceed?” Judge Thompson asked after giving her a curious look.

Joelle heard papers being shifted. She didn’t bother looking toward Gregory or his team. She didn’t care what they were going to use as a defense. She only cared about the subtle but powerful facts. Today was her day to shine.

“Thank you, your honor. I am more than ready to provide proof that Mr. Ronald Taylor is a true victim, a creation of society and the internet.” Gregory walked past her without as much as a look. He believed himself to be a powerful man.

Power. Joelle craved power in all aspects of her career. Being an assistant prosecutor had been a fascinating switch from working in corporation law and a stretch of her expertise. Baltimore had many commanding women in charge, but in the manner of the law, the old boys’ club still reigned. She sat back in her seat, swiveling her chair so that she could cross her legs. Dressed conservatively, a blue suit and crisp white men’s style shirt, her hair woven tightly in a bun, only her nine hundred dollar Manolo Blahnik stilettos offered a chance of showing the woman hidden behind the mask. Her thoughts drifted back to the incredible experience.

Marco was certainly sexy, alluding an air of prowess, yet he was neither dominant or submissive. Still, she wouldn’t mind having him as her disciplinarian. She eased her pen to her lips, placing the tip just inside. The vivid image of the man standing with his legs apart, his arms folded and her between his legs sucking his cock flashed in her mind.

She would run her hands up on the insides of his thighs, caressing as he wrapped his fingers in her hair, the gesture keeping her in place. When allowed, she would wrap one hand around his swollen testicles and the other around the base of his cock. As he commanded her to open her mouth, she’d moan in anticipation, delighting in her requirements. If she was a very good girl, drinking every last drop of his sweet cum, perhaps he’d tie her to an “X” cross, spanking her ass and legs until they were covered in welts.

“Ms. Parker!”

Joelle jumped and dropped the pen. “Sir? I mean, your Honor?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“I asked you if you’d like to cross examine the witness,” Judge Thompson stated through clenched teeth.

Cross examination? What the hell? “I’m sorry, your honor I need to…” Her words trailed off as she fumbled to figure out where they were in the case. The girl on the stand she didn’t recognize at first. She was so fucked.

“Please approach the bench.” The judge waved her forward.

Holding her breath, Joelle rose to her feet and attempted to walk in a manner that would allow her to keep her dignity. She heard a slight chuckle coming from Gregory’s mouth and she wanted to turn around and rip out his eyes. That would be sensational news at five o ‘clock. When she approached the bench, she smiled. “Your Honor?”

Judge Thompson covered up the microphone and leaned over as far as he could. “Ms. Parker. I’ve had you in my courtroom a dozen times and I’ve never seen you so absent from your duties. Is there a problem? Do you need some assistance?”

“No! I mean, no, Your Honor. I apologize. I was merely going through details of the case and lost track of time. That won’t happen again.” Lying to a judge now. Perfect. She was on the fast track to being thrown out in the street.

He raised a single eyebrow and exhaled. Ten full seconds ticked by. “Very well, but see that it doesn’t or I’ll have to hold you in contempt of court. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir! I mean Your Honor, sir.” She cringed and slunk back toward the chair, able to see the delighted expression on Gregory’s face. As she sat down, she banished the sinful thoughts to another planet. She was going to have to learn to separate the two worlds one way or the other.

At three-thirty pm on the nose, Judge Thompson called the day. Weary from the brow beating, some of her own making, Joelle shoved the iPad and pen into her briefcase, fiddling in a hope that Gregory would leave first.

He didn’t. Instead, he waited for her, standing by the defense table with his arms crossed, his eyes twinkling. “Not on your game today?”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you very much,” Joelle retorted and walked past him.

“This case is out of your league.”

While she knew the man was considered on the fast track to move into politics, she didn’t give a damn. Gregory was a bottom feeder, preying on lost souls. He had no remorse for his tactics nor did he have a conscience. She stopped short and turned. “Just try me, big boy. You might be surprised.” The words were dripping with sarcasm, almost said in a purr instead of her voice. Without waiting for a reply, she headed out of the courtroom.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The Press were camped out on the courtroom steps. Vans from the various news stations were everywhere. She froze and shifted toward the left side, praying she could find a way to slink through without being detected. She loathed reporters, hated this part of her job. She simply didn’t like recognition of any type.

The crowd was huge and even though she stood taller than most of the women and men present, she wasn’t able to tell what was happening. This was her chance to skedaddle out of dodge. She clutched her briefcase and lowered her head. Suddenly the group of reporters rushed the stairs at the opposite end, heading in her direction.

No, this wasn’t going to happen. Swallowing hard, she raced down the stairs, thankful she didn’t kill herself in the four-inch heels. When she was a solid half block down the sidewalk, she turned to see if any of them had followed her. She chuckled. “Way to go, idiots.” The reporters had no desire to talk to a prosecutor with a dirty secret. They’d found some other poor, dumb fool to prey on. She laughed all the way to her car.

* * *

Randolph Mitchell, Craze to his friends, faced the near mob like group as he always did, with ease. He’d been in front of cameras his entire life and knew the reporters were merely doing their jobs. He plastered on his politician smile and waited as they jockeyed for position. He was due in court in less than thirty minutes for nothing more than a continuation. He could afford to spend time preening in front of the camera. His assistant would be proud given Mark continued to chide him on his public appearances.

“Mr. Mitchell, is it true that you have your eyes set on the White House?”

Randolph gazed down at the diminutive female reporter and slid into his charming mode. “Ms. Tanner, let’s not get the cart before the horse. I’m considering a run for Congress, but I haven’t made up my mind as of yet.” He made it a point to learn as much as he could about the influential reporters in town. They could make or break a career or a candidacy.

“When are you going to announce your decision?” the older male reporter asked, pushing his way in front of the gaggle.

“Mr. Wild, nice to see you again. I anticipate making my decision in the next three weeks. Trust me, you’ll be the first to know.” Randolph winked as the group laughed. He had them eating out of his hands.

“If you run, have you determined your platform? I know you worked hard to defend those who otherwise would not be able to afford a top-notch attorney. Every step of your career has been about making certain criminals have their day in court. How will that affect your chances?” the blonde and blue-eyed girl was swooning.

He couldn’t help but glance at her cleavage. She would drop to her knees in an instant if he asked. Unfortunately, he was through with playtime with women who could be his daughter. Besides, he appreciated intelligent conversations, spirited if at all possible. “Ms. Jones. Everyone who knows me understands that I care about what happens to the good people of Baltimore as a whole. Defending innocent people remains important to me and always will. My platform will simply be that the city and the state needs to be able to place their trust in someone, a man of honor.”

The words resonated throughout the crowd. Randolph made certain he looked into the eyes of everyone who was close. He could tell they believed him, even adored the sentiment. If they only knew about the man underneath the expensive suits and polished shoes. His persona had been groomed since he was a boy, his parents raising what they considered the perfect child. He snickered at the thought.

A few claps could be heard coming from the back. “I have time for one more question,” Randolph stated, his baritone voice cutting through the traffic below him.

A young male reporter, one Randolph had never seen before, held his hand higher than the rest. Randolph pointed in his direction. Every kid needed a start in the business. “Yes, sir. And you are?”

“Michael Trent with the Baltimore Sun.”

“Well, Michael, what is your question?”

“Do you have any skeletons in your closet?” Michael was expressionless, but his eyes were dark, almost ominous.

A single bead of sweat trickled down the back of Randolph’s neck. He cocked his head and chuckled. “Doesn’t everyone?” With the vague answer, the crowd laughed with him. However, Michael wasn’t smiling. In fact, he held an expression that said in no uncertain terms he had dirt on Randolph, a scandalous tale that Michael would use to his benefit at the worst possible time during Randolph’s political run for office.

And there was certainly enough scandal to ignite the Press.

“Thank you all for coming. I’m due in court. Have a wonderful evening.” Randolph shook the required amount of hands before entering the courtroom. Only then did he hiss under his breath. He’d have to find out what, or if, the young man had any dirt on him as well as Michael’s intentions of using the information.

* * *

Randolph took long strides down the hallway and into his office. The continuation had taken a mere ten minutes so he was back in the building before five. As he walked past his assistant, he nodded toward his office. He dumped his briefcase on the desk and went straight to his mini-bar. He loathed sparring with reporters that he didn’t know. They always had a hidden agenda.

Mark hurried into Randolph’s office. “You look pissed.”

“Close the door. I have something for you to do.” He plopped two ice cubes in a glass and poured a half glass of whiskey.

After shutting the door, Mark advanced. “Let me guess, the continuation didn’t happen.”

“Oh no. The case has been pushed back as I knew it would be. That’s not the problem.” Randolph took a swig of the liquor, savoring the flavor, before turning to face Mark. “Do you know the name Michael Trent?”

“Never heard of him. Why?”

“He’s a reporter from the Sun. Find out everything you can about him. I think we may have a digger on our hands.”

“A digger?” Mark asked as he frowned.

“As in digging into my life, my past.”

“Oh. Fantastic. I assume that means you want him shut down.”

Randolph rubbed his eyes. “I can’t shut him down. Every reporter in town will want to know why. I do want to know everything about this kid, including where he goes to eat breakfast and the woman or man he fucks. Everything. I need to know what I’m facing.”

Mark inched closer. “May I ask you what you’re worried about?”

While his assistant was completely trustworthy and a man who kept his confidences, Mark didn’t know details about his extra-curricular activities. No one did and he refused to allow anyone into his private life. “We all have secrets, some dirtier than others.”

“Anything I should know about?”

“Nothing that matters and shouldn’t to anyone, but I daresay if Mr. Trent is out to find dirt, he’ll stop at nothing to do so. Just find out what you can.”

“Of course. I’ll get started right away.” Mark turned to leave.

“Mark, I don’t mean tonight. I might be a tough taskmaster, but I’m not a slave driver. Go home. This can wait until the morning.”

“Are you certain? I’m here for you every step of the way.”

Randolph lifted his glass. “Go have a drink. Enjoy friends and family. You deserve it.”

Smiling, Mark nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He backed away toward the door. “I don’t care what anyone says about you. You’re not a tyrant.”

“Get out of here!” He laughed and shook his head. Hell yes, he was a tyrant. No wonder he’d never been able to find the right woman. Few women could handle his attitude, his intense needs and his dark requirements. As far as family? He wasn’t into afternoon cookouts and holiday get togethers. He preferred his time alone.

After Mark left, he gulped the rest of his drink and made another. Tonight, he had no appointments, either for business or pleasure. He was a free man. Huffing, he sat down at his desk and clicked on the internet. He opened the Sun Times website and searched through their files. There was one article written by Michael Trent, an article on a new corporation coming to town. The rather benign article shouldn’t have afforded the reporter time with a political candidate.

He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. What would the young man want from him? Then again, what could he find? Randolph had spent his entire life under the microscope. His father, a retired Senator from the state of Ohio, had made certain his son was educated at the most exclusive schools, receiving the best education money could buy. Randolph was used to the finer things in life: wine, clothes, cars and even women.

He was also absolutely freaking bored to death. However, he was a picture-perfect candidate for office—at least on the surface.

If anyone found out what lay hidden under the mask, his career in politics would be over. He swirled the whiskey and grinned. No one was going to uncover his secrets, no matter what he had to do.

Not even one tenacious reporter.

What do you think? I hope you enjoyed. The purchase link is at the bottom but another treat for you. Snap me a picture of your purchase of His Judgment and email to piperstonecreations@gmail.com and you’ll receive two of my other books – your choice. Not too shabby for the weekend.

Have a wonderful weekend

Piper

PURCHASE LINK

 

a taste of… His Judgment

I think we all have a fascination of the law. I’m saddened by the ugly stories of cops being shot. Policemen and women should be our heroes – at least the majority of them. Just like with any breed, color, size, shape or gender – there are good people and bad people. Sadly, we concentrate on the bad, yet we celebrate the notoriety politicians and celebrities seem to mandate JUST because they think they’re all that and a bag of chips. We all have something to hide. Every. Single. One. Of. Us.His Judgement 500x755

Don’t lie. you know you do.

Sometimes good people are caught up in the political arena. They fight for what’s right as well as try to live their life as they wish. Often, they’re unable because we love to pry. We crave seeing the worst in people. Sometimes there are legitimate reasons for poking at the candidate, actor, judge, etc. Sometimes those reasons are contrived. His Judgment is just this kind of story. Two people do indeed have something to hide, but not what many believe to be so horrible. Sometimes they are simply trying to find another to care about them. Hmmm…  Coming on August 1st from Blushing Books.

HIS JUDGMENT

Buried inside all of us are dark desires, some we refuse to acknowledge. But we crave…

I hunger for a powerful man, one strong enough to tame the woman inside. For highly respected attorney, Joelle Parker, the words had unleashed a hunger she could no longer control. Her days are filled with prosecuting monsters, vile men and women content on vanquishing the sanctity of innocent lives. Her nights are something else entirely. Fantasies of finding a dominating man, one who could yank away the tight confines of her conservative life, finally filter into her waking hours. Tasked with prosecuting a brutal and very political murder case, her needs are placed on hold—until a chance meeting changes everything.

Randolph ‘Craze’ Mitchell is a loner, preferring long rides on his Harley to human companionship. A man of the law, he has a difficult decision to make; whether or not to run for a seat in the State Senate. Every aspect of his life is well planned, organized and exactly what he doesn’t want. His dark desires, sexual needs encompassing kink and domination, are kept locked away. No woman can withstand his requirements. No one knows the real man or the secrets he holds. Painting is his only solace, he’s come to terms with remaining very much alone—until a vivacious woman crosses his path, daring to push aside his tightly woven shield of armor.

The two enter into a passionate and intense journey, the question of consent never far from the surface. Both crave what the other offers, as well as concern about discovery, but they can’t stay away. Every act shared pushes their respective boundaries, fulfilling their carnal needs, until reality thrusts them into the light of day—a blackmailer has surfaced. Craze is faced with a horrific choice, one that could end both of their careers. Can he use his best judgment or will he succumb to his personal demons?

Can Joelle and Craze trust each other enough to explore their needs together? Their chemistry is off the chain, is it real or just a chance encounter? Can they join together to protect each other from public scrutiny?

EXCERPT

“Murderer!”

“Kill the bastard!”

“He should fry in hell for what he did!”

“He’s an innocent man!”

The screams and chanting from both sides came fast and furious. Joelle Parker took the courthouse steps two at a time, avoiding the bank of reporters, family, friends and co-workers of both the accused murderer and his victims. The mob was growing in number, the case an ugly reminder of the increasing horrific crimes in Baltimore. They were all judging her on her performance or lack thereof. Even her boss had threatened to take over, stating she wasn’t qualified to handle such a high priority black and white Domcase. To hell with all of them. She was damn good.

When she was safely inside, she breathed out and wiped a single bead of sweat from her forehead. She refused to be on the news, fader for some buxom blonde who would use the fifteen minutes of fame to parlay a career on National television. Not her style.

She hurried through the checkpoints and entered the courtroom, her head held high. She was early and few people were inside. Sliding into the seat, she almost laughed as her skirt rode up her thighs from friction, exposing the tops of her thigh-highs.

She fingered the thin lace and bit her lower lip. What if everyone in the courtroom knew she was wearing a silk thong and stockings? Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander to the events of the night before. The BDSM club was new in town, considered hot and very exclusive. The invitation had been a scintillating surprise, a gift from one of her previous clients. She’d tossed the gilded envelope in a drawer, rejecting the offer for almost two weeks.

Joelle was the good girl, the one who had made straight ‘A’s’ in high school and all through college and law school. She was the best friend, tutor, mentor and big sister. She was the one who followed every rule. Everyone thought of her as the girl next door, who never, ever had kinky thoughts. She’d stymied the vixen most of her life. Only two years before had she succumbed to her burning desires, frequenting several clubs in the seediest part of downtown Baltimore.

Experimentation had turned into dark cravings until the nights became days and she’d made a choice – her career or BDSM. The need for money, clothes, an expensive car and a condominium won out in the end. A girl had to eat. What a shame.

No one had any idea about the woman inside. The search for the perfect man had gone nowhere. What man could handle such complexity? She licked her ruby stained lips as she thought about the last date she’d been on. How long had it been? Oh yes, almost three years. No man held the muster, a perfect specimen of masculinity and dominance.

When the invitation had arrived, she knew she’d received a sign. However, accepting the sign had taken courage. The memory held mixed feelings. She’d gulped down a full glass of wine, held her breath and ripped open the envelope with flair. What she couldn’t understand is how had her client, a woman who fashioned herself a Domme, see through her thick layers of bullshit to the girl locked inside a cage? On that very night and after two additional glasses of wine, she’d accepted the invite, happy as could be. After second guessing herself, she’d cowered in front of the television watching a documentary on The History Channel. Yeah, she had balls of mush.

The night at the club had been cathartic. Freeing. She couldn’t wait to return, even considering paying the one thousand dollar joining free. She could afford a little luxury. She could even learn to be more careful in her methods of playtime, remaining in the shadows.

Why the hell did she care? What occurred in her private life was nobody else’s business. She was an adult, a very hungry adult and allowed to play. Then again, no one, not even her best friend knew about her penchant for pain, her desire to submit to a dominant man.

Meticulously she laid out her things, preferring an iPad to traditional pen and paper. This case wasn’t going to be easy, but she was prepared, well almost. The night before had been delicious, the event going well into the night. She snickered as she envisioned the neon lights, the pulsing music and the elongated bar. The dark and foreboding club was designed for anonymity as well as security. Anyone could be exactly who they desired to be.

She checked her watch – ten minutes to spare. After court she was going to dinner with friends, then back to the club. Whether or not she’d decide to join depended on the events of the night. A bit of show and tell was in order, complete with aspects of flogging. She tingled at the thought. Perhaps she’d run into Marco again. The stud muffin had shown her the ropes, literally. She giggled and eased her hand into her shirt, fingering the top of her push-up bra, remembering the delicious details.

“Welcome to Club Noir,” the man whispered, his face hidden behind a mask. “I’m Marco, very much at your service.”

Joelle eyed the tall drink of water and nodded. “Thank you. I’m Jewel.” She certainly wasn’t going to give him her real name.

“Jewel. A beautiful gem to be kept precious. I’m honored. I know that you’re new to our club. If you’d like, I’d be happy to show you around.”

As he held out his arm, she inhaled. His exotic scent was unrecognizable, the fragrance intoxicating just like the man. Tall and broad shouldered, his muscles were carved, his body long and lean. “I’d enjoy that.” Accepting his gesture, she clung to him as he walked her through the crowded space.

“Club Noir specializes in all aspects of BDSM. We cater to our customers, indulging them in their greatest fantasy. Tell me, sweet Jewel, do you have a particular desire, a bold hunger for aspects of kink?”

Breathless Bad Boys…

Don’t we all love a bad boy? Even heroes can have a streak that is oh-so delicious and dark, a man we love to hate. I’ve been so proud to be a part of Hero Undercover – a compilation of 25 novellas with 24 other award winning, best seller authors brought to you by Blushing Books. The stories are all very different and in my opinion, the perfect poolside read. Think about it. You’re already… HOT. and. WET.  I know, I’m allowing my bad girl side to show. Right? This is the last day that the 1776 page book is going to be a tiny little $.99 so grab a copy. Blushing Books is also having an amazing give away and I’ll provide the link down below.

I hope that if you’re new to Piper Stone, you’ll take the opportunity to read some of my other books. I have a new release and a fantastic sale going on in honor of both Hero Undercover and my latest release – Maverick Rescue Me. So leet’s get started.

Here’s my piece in Hero Undercover. I have a love of red wine and women who are brassy and bold. When you combine an undercover case involving wine fraud and a cowboy detective. Well, the purr-fect recipe for turning up the heat.

A TASTE FOR RED

Private Investigator Shanna Jacobs has no issue chasing scumbag criminals down on her Harley. Blackmailed into working with the local police department, the case involving wine fraud utilizes one of her many talents. However, going undercover correct hero undercover coveralongside a sexy cowboy cop may destroy her mask of steel. Detective Cody Walker is estranged from his ranch in Montana, taking the only job offered after his involvement in a horrific incident. Working alongside, Shanna and Cody realize the case isn’t what it seems. As they delve into the clues, sparks fly, but both refuse to accept their growing need. Can he save the woman he’s fallen in love with before it’s too late?

I write in several genres and don’t mind stretching the envelope with regard to kink. A Power Exchange in a relationship is exactly what you think. You’re giving up your power to another. Women who are very dominating in business often prefer to be very submissive in their desires and in their relationships, giving up full control. When the man is utterly powerful, a man most fear and so many hate, the perfect woman is the one who can tame him. This is the first in a collection of stories involving the ultimate Power Exchange. On sale for only $2.99 at Amazon – see what you think…

BECOMING – POWER EXCHANGE

SYNOPSIS

Blackmail – the ultimate in power…

Christopher Patterson is a business mogul, his prowess and influence creating a commanding empire. His methods of takeover are ruthless, garnering every expensive toy money can buy. He holds many secrets, ones that would obliterate his empire if discovered. His nemesis waits, shadowed in the darkness, determined to destroy everything Christopher has worked for. A tortured man, Christopher’s dark needs for complete control prove unsuccessful when dominating a woman. That is until Genevieve Tallen came into his life.

Becoming EbookGenevieve is a successful entrepreneur, her advertising agency well respected. Lonely and unfulfilled in every relationship, meeting Christopher is electric. She’s able to release her submissive side and become the woman she finally learns to accept. Drawn into a twisted relationship, satisfying their respective kinky desires, there is no way for her to know she’s fallen into a scandalous web of deceit. A secret men’s club, one fueling every deep-seated fantasy, is the backdrop for blackmail.

Two men vie for a woman’s submission, at the risk of losing their livelihood as well as their very souls. Forced to face a damning past, Christopher has a decision to make, one that could change his relationship forever. Obedience tested, only Genevieve can snap the tangled noose, the one dragging Christopher into the pits of Hell.

Danger. Dominance. Destruction.

Are Christopher and Genevieve strong enough to face and accept their needs? Is their relationship strong enough to weather the upcoming storm? Will their love survive?

 

EXCERPT

You have to have her, take her, use her.

The words were never far from his mind.

Christopher wasn’t entirely certain what to expect when he walked into her home, her gleaming kitchen. All afternoon, his anticipation of seeing her, being with her, had kept him from his allotted duties. Even his assistant had commented that his mind was elsewhere. For once, he didn’t mind a bit being sidetracked. Just after four, he’d left the office and headed for a bar. Somewhere along the way, he was sidetracked, taking a detour to the local Home Depot. He hadn’t been in a Home Depot in over a year. There’d been no need in his life.

He chuckled as he held out the new, red rope he’d secured. Seeing the face of the store clerk, who made the mistake of asking Chris what he was purchasing this particular type of rope for, was priceless. The mixture of shock and horror when he answered honestly was quite pleasing. Perhaps he was a sadist. You are a sadist. The thought was comforting.

“You truly look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you, Sir. I prepared everything as required,” Genevieve said quietly, her eyes shifting down to the bondage material in his hands. “Have you been shopping?”

“Nothing but the best for my girl.” His laugh was much needed, and he could feel his tension easing. She always had a calming effect on him, a moment of pure peace in a sea of bullshit. Dropping his things, he moved toward her. Hearing her call him ‘Sir’ made his cock swell. “Did you forget your required greeting already, my dearest?”

She jerked her head up, her lower lip quivering. “No, Sir. Well, maybe yes, Sir. Ugh.” Very slowly, she leaned over at the waist, lifting the hem of her teddy. A slight moan escaped her lips as she spread her legs and reached her arms back.

He walked closer, every move deliberate, as he surveyed the objects on the table. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth. For some reason, he could tell a difference within her, as if she were ready to let go of the last snippet of control. His submissive ‘G,’ a pet name he’d coined in the beginning, continued to have her ways of usurping his authority. There was no method of breaking this down, only time and complete trust would allow her the freedom of unleashing old wounds. This, he very much respected. “Open those lovely ass cheeks of yours.” As soon as he issued the command, he could hear the single grunt.

“Yes, Sir. I, um…”

“Yes?” He could already tell what she’d forgotten. As he moved behind her, he could hear her breathing change, becoming scattered. He pressed down on her back, fingers drumming against her skin. “Genevieve.”

Yes, he is sexy but can you see the love-hate relationship?

My latest release is a true series involving the love of animals and how they can save and protect our hearts, souls and very lives. Maverick is a Golden Retriever, a carbon copy of one of my furry babies in actions and love. This is my heart child book. A suspense thriller that will keep you on your seat, the passion and love is something you won’t soon forget.

MAVERICK – RESCUE ME

 

If I can’t have you, no one will…

The words have haunted McKenzie Reynolds for months. Running away wasn’t the best answer, but she had zero choices. If she stayed, he’d have continued down his path of abuse disguised as domestic discipline. Once a man she thought she could trust, his evil deeds slip past the mask. A new home. A new life. Only her Golden Retriever, Maverick by her side. She is free, ready for every new challenge, including Maveric_500x755the chance at love.

Until he finds her…

Dr. Diego Mitchell, a struggling veterinarian, leaves his past and every bad memory behind, or at least he tries to. He has begun forging new relationships in a new community, while developing clientele. On a stormy night, he learns a valuable lesson as tragedy strikes. He’s forced to use his valuable skills to save a life, but what he doesn’t expect is a rush of emotions, including the need to protect. The mysterious woman might be his savior.

Two strangers bond together as a mystery develops, leaving the local ranchers terrified of the recent arsons. With several dead, including an unidentified man, McKenzie is not only the key but perhaps the intended victim. A game of cat and mouse ensues and McKenzie and Diego race to find answers before the monster strikes again.

Can McKenzie take a chance and truly trust Diego?  Can Diego push his demons away, so he can protect McKenzie? Will the rugged cowboy be able to rescue the woman he loves? Will the scared, haunted woman take back her power and rescue the man she loves, right back? Together, can they survive and heal?

The first in a collection of stories involving humans who rescue beloved animals. Or is it the other way around?

Just released and all from Blushing Books. You can find Maverick on Amazon and the Blushing Books site. I also have a pretty sexy release going on at Amazon. You can win a free copy – no purchase required. Just follow this link! https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/8c68ecfdf4a1e21e 

Here is Blushing Books fantastic hourly give away. You can’t go wrong with this one!

http://www.blushingbooksblog.com/prizes-every-hour-25-00-amazon-gift-certificate/ 

Finally, through today only. If you purchase a copy of Hero Undercover on any site – Amazon, iBooks or B & N and pm me on Facebook or at piperstonecreations@gmail.com a snapshot of the purchase, I’ll gift you two ARC copies of any of my books – your choice. Good luck and I hope you enjoy!!

Kisses…

Piper

HERO UNDERCOVER AMAZON LINK

 

Struggling for a New Life…

It’s interesting how people view abuse in books. As we know, OF COURSE, there are various kinds of abusive from physical to mental, from lovers to employers and everything in between. No abuse is okay at any time for any reason. Period. However, this is a sad part of everyday lives and I think stories of heroic efforts to change, move on, start a new live or find lawful methods of retribution need to be told. If some of my passages make you wince, cry, rage in horror and finally smile in Maveric_500x755peace, then I’ve done my job. Yes, I understand abuse in certain ways. I don’t think there’s a human being alive who hasn’t experienced or at least been a party to some form. Sad state our world is, but this is our truth.

The Rescue Me Series isn’t about the constant happy times couples have. They aren’t simple romances with fluffy animals. They are a telling of love, strength, horrors, happiness, anger – you get the message. Every story has a hero or two – including those in furry bundled love. I’m very proud of Maverick and would like to bring you another taste. I do so hope you enjoy. More will be coming later…

MAVERICK – RESCUE ME

EXCERPT

Guilt settled into McKenzie’s system. She stood staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, worried to death about Maverick and wondering how in the hell she’d gotten herself into such a mess in the first place. Anthony wasn’t a monster. Or was he? She wasn’t certain of anything any longer. Yes, she’d known about his anger issues as well as his arrogance. For some reason she thought love could conquer all. The bad boy and the good girl. She’d ceased being good a long time ago. He and his family had infected her mind if not her very soul.

After another gulp of wine, she set the glass on the counter and peeled off her clothes. The bruises on her face and neck would heal in time. The scratches on her arms would fade away. The scars on her heart would never leave.

She touched her face, memories of the good times providing a tearful moment. She’d loved him, even after his personality had changed. Now this. She might lose everything but she refused to give in, stay married to him for another month. Hissing, she started the shower. His rich family would no doubt stand behind him as they always did.

“She’s not good enough for you.”

“She’s beneath you, Anthony.”

“You can do so much better. The family deserves better.”

The family. What a crock of shit. The tainted words remained furrowed into the back of her mind. She stepped into the shower, allowing the water to cascade down over her head. Not a single member of his family had ever accepted her or their marriage. She’d wondered often if Anthony had gotten hitched to her simply to piss off his parents. What did the concern really matter any longer? They had their wish now. He was free as a bird and had all but destroyed her in the process.

Palming the cool tile, she dropped her head as the tears began to fall. How many times had she promised herself that she’d never cry again? How many times had she allowed him to slither back into her life? She was done. Finished. She had to be strong. She would fight. She would prevail.

cowboy standingYou’re so full of shit. She gulped air as the tears continued to fall, loathing her inner voice, the one that had kept her questioning every move she made. She slapped the wall and tilted her head back, issuing a strangled scream. “Why? Why can’t I have a normal life?”

Because you’re worthless. You have no skills. You are nothing without me.

She blinked and shook her head, the wretched words, his words would forever haunt her. “You’re wrong. You fucking asshole. You’ll see.” Yeah, she’d show the world. Her thoughts drifted to Maverick and her legs began to shake. She knew he was badly hurt. Even the good doctor was concerned. She could tell by Diego’s expression and the wretched look in his eyes. He didn’t want to tell her the truth. She was going to lose the one thing she loved in this very world, the only thing that she could love.

Crumpling to her knees, she cradled her arms around her legs, pulling them to her chest. The water continued to pound down, mixing with her tears. She rocked back and forth as flashes of the past fueled her now vile anger. She was going to destroy Anthony, no matter how long or how much money she had to spend in order to do so.

Maverick. She could hear his fearful whimpers in her mind. She knew he was looking for mommy dog. He was all alone and scared. He’d tried to protect her. He was her savior. No, he was her salvation. Strong. You will be powerful and you will fight. Sniffing, she whipped the salty beads away, determined to close down her emotions.

After a few minutes, she rose to her feet and finished her shower. Tonight, she’d placed her beloved pup’s wellbeing in the hands of a stranger. Karma was kicking her in the ass. This was going to be the toughest thing she had to deal with in her life.

McKenzie found a robe on the back of the bathroom door. A smile crossed her face as she studied the red and blue plaid design. Somehow, she couldn’t see the cowboy vet in something like this. Still, the flannel was warm and cozy, the scent all male. She held the material close to her nose, drinking in his essence. A staunch sense of embarrassment, she shook away the thought and donned the attire.

Antsy, she retrieved her wine and walked toward the kitchen to refill her glass. She stood staring out the window, thinking about the last year. There was nothing she could do but fight Anthony, demanding a divorce. He’d grow bored soon enough, preferring to play with one of his blonde bimbos.

Her thoughts drifted to Diego. The cowboy was certainly a breath of fresh air. He also understood her desires, not judging or condemning her. The concept was not what she’d expected from anyone. She could remember the look in her best friend’s eyes when she’d expressed her desires for discipline, being punished for being a bad girl. The admittance had almost cost them their friendship. As if that mattered. She’d left everyone behind forever.

“Stop,” she muttered. She had to start thinking clearly so she could develop a plan. Maybe Diego could help. Groaning, she rubbed her eyes.

What was it about this man, this stranger that intrigued her so much? Why was she thinking about future possibilities when her life was in ruins? Perhaps she’d never figure out the answer but certainly not tonight. Resigned, she sipped her wine and said a prayer for Maverick.

Chuckling, she noticed the orange glow in the distance and frowned, uneasiness settling into her system. She couldn’t help but wish Anthony would die in a massive fire. Yeah, then she wouldn’t have to worry about the crap she was going to have to go through. Yes, the concept was delicious.

Snorting, she settled on the couch, propping up her feet and finishing her wine. Minutes later she began to nod off. As vivid images settle into her subconscious, she smiled. If only there were bears in the Virginia woods. Perhaps a pack of wolves would do the trick. Or a hitman.

If only she had the courage.

SYNOPSIS

The words have haunted McKenzie Reynolds for months. Running away wasn’t the best answer, but she had zero choices. If she stayed, he’d have continued down his path of abuse disguised as domestic discipline. Once a man she thought she could trust, his evil deeds slip past the mask. A new home. A new life. Only her Golden Retriever, Maverick by her side. She is free, ready for every new challenge, including the chance at love.

Until he finds her…

Dr. Diego Mitchell, a struggling veterinarian, leaves his past and every bad memory behind, or at least he tries to. He has begun forging new relationships in a new community, while developing clientele. On a stormy night, he learns a valuable lesson as tragedy strikes. He’s forced to use his valuable skills to save a life, but what he doesn’t expect is a rush of emotions, including the need to protect. The mysterious woman might be his savior.

Two strangers bond together as a mystery develops, leaving the local ranchers terrified of the recent arsons. With several dead, including an unidentified man, McKenzie is not only the key but perhaps the intended victim. A game of cat and mouse ensues and McKenzie and Diego race to find answers before the monster strikes again.

Can McKenzie take a chance and truly trust Diego?  Can Diego push his demons away, so he can protect McKenzie? Will the rugged cowboy be able to rescue the woman he loves? Will the scared, haunted woman take back her power and rescue the man she loves, right back? Together, can they survive and heal?

The first in a collection of stories involving humans who rescue beloved animals. Or is it the other way around?

I so hope you enjoyed! 

Piper

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