Three Rivers Run Deep – A Tasty Treat

I am crazy about firefighters, smokejumpers and all men of action and danger. I think we all appreciate a powerful man. Don’t we? Three Rivers Run Deep – Fire Devil Book One is an action packed drama full of suspense and passion. The elite group of men fireman under waterbelong to a very special club – Burnout – where they believe in old fashioned relationships. Romance with a kick – domestic discipline. I’m going to give you a few pictures of some of my favorites.

Let’s take a look at the synopsis.

THREE RIVERS RUN DEEP

Danger. It’s all I’ve ever known. All I’ve ever wanted.

Fighting fires soothes the raging beast that war created.

Allowing me to live

The rest? Maybe she can understand my hunger. For her. Dominating her. Owning her.

Maybe…

Danger. Domination. Destruction.

The Jackals

An elite team of smokejumpers nestled in the heart of Missoula, Montana.

fireman with tatsBy day they indulge in their penchant for danger.

By night they exude passion.

Are you ready for their brand of domination?

Prevent. Protect. Preserve. This is their motto.

Danger is what they love. Can you imagine fighting fires in the tough mountain terrain? They also thrive on their past experiences, living life to its fullest. They are men of action, preferring every aspect of their every day to be laced with something sinful. I have to ask, what kind of vehicle do you think they would drive? Hmmm… Decisions.

COMING ON DECEMBER 1st – the saga continues

WHEN THE MOUNTAINS WEEP

9/11. Too many memories. A burning pain. Scarred body and soul. Damaged beyond comprehension.

Fighting fires to save lives, unable to combat the devil inside, but I need more.

More… I need her. She’s my salvation and I will have her. No compromises.MountainsWeep_500x755

Danger. Domination. Destruction.

I’ll have some exciting excerpts coming in the next few days…

Kisses

Piper

 

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Fire Devil – Three Rivers Run Deep

SQUEE! The pre-order for the very first book comes out later today (or tomorrow depending on Amazon) and I’m so excited! This is the first in 7 books with 2 free prequels regarding an amazing group of smokejumpers. They delve into danger in order to save lives, fighting the worst fires imaginable. Sadly, think of California and the devastating fires. Several groups of smokejumpers from several states are there, working long and exhausting hours, days, weeks in order to put out the horrific flames. They are our true heroes. 

There are also other unsung heroes – the women they love, the families and friends THree Rivers 500x755who rally around them every day. I’m proud to bring you a group of stories based in Missoula, Montana. Here is a taste of our first heroine. I hope you’ll consider pre-ordering at a very special price of $2.99 for the pre-order sale only. Thank you readers for loving my saga.

THREE RIVERS RUN DEEP

Fire Devil: Windfall of fire

Zulies: Missoula smokejumpers

Blowup: Catastrophic fire behavior, rapid spread, mass ignition of large areas 

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 y’all 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 recording 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.

SYNOPSIS

Danger. It’s all I’ve ever known. All I’ve ever wanted.

Fighting fires soothes the raging beast that war created.

Allowing me to live

The rest? Maybe she can understand my hunger. For her. Dominating her. Owning her.

Maybe…

Danger. Domination. Destruction.

The Jackals

An elite team of smokejumpers nestled in the heart of Missoula, Montana.

By day they indulge in their penchant for danger.

By night they exude passion.

Are you ready for their brand of domination?

Prevent. Protect. Preserve. This is their motto.

I hope you’ve enjoyed!

Kisses…

Piper

Fire Devil Series Banner

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

Shadow – Rescue Me

I’m very excited to have Shadow – Rescue Me releasing later today. This book is the second in the Rescue Me Series, but in truth can be a stand alone read. I love writing romantic suspense and this one will take you further into the lives and loves in Goochland, Virginia – a small town near Richmond and a place so many call horse country. Between the mighty James River threading through the entire countryside, the beautiful rolling hills of greenery and the small town feel, I believe you’re going to love a taste of paradise. However, there’s always a dark side, now isn’t there?

Just who is Shadow? A beautiful Newfoundland puppy rescued from the arms of a group of horrific men, but even dogs have secrets. I hope you enjoy a taste and will consider purchasing.

SYNOPSIS

When a horrific accident awakens Sienna Duncan in the middle of the night, the wretched event drags personal nightmares into the light. Then she’s in the wrong place at the right time, and saves an innocent puppy from a gunshot wound while the perpetrators race away. But she was seen…

Deputy Kane Logan, a transplant from Wyoming, is hopeful of finding salvation in a Shadow_bigsmall town in Virginia. He’s running from tragedies he can no longer tolerate while working on a horrific crime involving the local teenagers. A chance meeting with the stunning beauty awakens his soul and they begin a new and guarded relationship. But someone wants her dead…

As threats continue and Kane fights to save innocent lives from a powerful drug, Sienna is pulled into a game of cat and mouse. Until they’re both forced to face their personal demons. The truth will be told, but at what cost? Is someone from her past threatening her new life? Can she find safety in the arms of the man she loves? Will Kane find the strength to become her protector?

EXCERPT

Screech! Bam!

“No. No!” Fighting, she shoved hard, pushing against the entity preventing her from moving. “Fuck you!” Sienna Duncan roared. Blinking, she thrust her arms to the side and panted, shifting as the unknown being continued to press hard against her body.

“Come to me. Come on, baby. You can do it.” She rushed toward the shore, reaching out. Wading into the water, she shivered as the rain pelted her face. She blinked furiously, trying to see him in the roaring waves. She heard a whimper and moaned. “Where are you?”

Turning sharply, she dove into the waves, kicking out as she attempted to move forward. With each arm stroke, every move forward, she was shoved back. Gulping water, she coughed and continued to struggle, doing her best to keep her eyes on the only creature she loved more than life itself. She watched in horror as the little head bobbed up and down, in and out of the water until he no longer resurfaced.

She swam harder, her adrenaline kicking in. “Baby! No!”

“No!” Sienna panted as she jerked awake. Images lingered, a wretched vision of a forgotten time, a man she thought she cared about turning into a monster. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she gulped for air, coughing and choking as if drowning in a pool of blood. “No. Please God. No.” She rolled over, burying her face into her pillow, and closed her eyes. Sobbing, she beat her fist against the pillow as the memories lingered. They would never leave her, never allow her to find solace. She was alone and very much afraid. This was just a dream, a manifestation of so much pain and confusion.

Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar.

She remained in the same position until the agony passed, replaced with a dull ache, the same one she’d had for over two years. Now wide awake, she groaned. Why in the hell was she having the same dream? Tension. Worry. Extreme sadness. “Goddamn it.”

Breathing in and out, she kept her face buried in the pillow, listening and waiting. After a few seconds, she shifted and opened her eyes, glancing from right to left. A cool breeze wafted across, floating a scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Calming her nerves, she sat up, surveying the darkened room.

She was alone in her bed, in her house. There were no boogeymen waiting to drag her into Hell, at least one considered tangible. Only her nightmares could do that. She remained quiet, studying her surroundings, then shoved the covers away. Another damn dream. They were getting worse, each vision dragging her close to the end. She brushed the tears from her face and cursed under her breath. Pathetic. She was nothing but pathetic.

The wine. That’s why her dreams had been nightmares. Too much wine on an empty stomach. At this rate, she was never getting another good night’s sleep. A dull echo remained in her ears, an intense thudding sound. She’d been awakened for a reason. What had she heard?

Curious, she crawled out of bed and moved toward the window, peering out. The night was dark, moonless and in her mind, foreboding. Seeing nothing, she grabbed her robe and padded toward the kitchen, staring at the microwave clock. Two-thirty am. “Awesome,” she whispered and turned toward the refrigerator. A shimmering light drew her attention.

cowboy standing“What the hell?” Narrowing her eyes, she walked toward the picture window, palming the glass as she attempted to see past the murky haze. There was definitely a light coming from her front yard. A car? Who would come visit at this hour of the morning? Wait. Now she remembered the noise, the metallic sounds and solid slam.

Shoving her feet into her boots, she tentatively unlocked and opened the front door. Squinting, from where she stood, she could just make out a vehicle of some kind, but the angle to the headlights was all wrong. “Oh, no.” A terrible feeling sunk into the pit of her stomach. There’d been too many close calls with drivers almost missing the sharp turn, the road just inches from her driveway. But, this seemed too close. She turned on her porchlight and squinted. There was definitely a vehicle only thirty yards or so from the house, but far removed from the road. What the hell?

Apprehension crawling down her spine, she eased off her front porch, moving toward the light. As her eyes began to focus, she stared in horror at the catastrophe. Steam rolled out from under the crumpled hood of the smashed SUV. The front and passenger side of the vehicle had been sheared off by the massive oak tree. Glass and metal fragments covered the ground. Only the gleam of the one remaining headlight illuminated the horrific wreck.

Racing back inside, she rushed into the kitchen, grabbing the phone and dialing 9-1-1 while she yanked out first one then a second kitchen drawer. “Where the hell is the flashlight? Yes. I’d like to report an accident.”

She prattled off her address as she wrapped her hand around the cool cylinder. “Yes. Thank you. Please hurry.” After testing the light, she took long strides, breaking into a run when she was off the porch. A single flash told her everything she didn’t want to know. There were three occupants and zero air bags. No one could have survived this kind of crash.

Swallowing back bile, she advanced, shining the light inside. “No. God, no!” She stumbled back a few steps, moaning as she hunkered over. No, she had to find courage. What if someone was still alive? She inched closer, gripping the light and using the beam to scan the interior. Long blond hair was matted with blood covering the seat and headrest. The girl was wearing a seatbelt, but the force of the accident had pitched her forward.

Gulping air, Sienna was clearly able to see the damage done to the girl’s head and torso upon impact. She twisted to the side and dry heaved as the scent of blood and gore wafted across her nose. After a few seconds, she wiped her mouth and attempted to peer into the upper section. The boy in the passenger seat had vacant eyes, their last moment having seen sheer horror. Impaled by portions of the dash and what had to be the engine, she could only see down to his shoulders.

Sienna slapped her hand over her mouth and could take no more. Please let the police get here. Please. Shifting, she jerked back and stumbled, falling to the ground. The flashlight was pitched from her hand. She scrambled on her hands and knees in an attempt to grab it before she retched all over herself.

The second she wrapped her hand around the light, the steady beam flashed on yet another victim. This one had been thrown out the back window, tossed like a ragdoll. The light was pointed in the girl’s direction. Nothing would ever erase the vision from her mind. Nothing. Every part of her shaking, she managed to get to her feet and just as she was about to retreat to the safety of her house, she heard what sounded like a single moan.

Against her better judgment, she headed around to the front of the car, avoiding the broken glass and the damaged tree. A single flash inside allowed her to see that the driver was alive, his eyelids fluttering open and closed. The window was down and the young man had a massive gash on his forehead and cheek.

“Help… me…” he managed, his voice garbled. Coughing, he seemed to be trying to move. Her instinct kicking in, she inched closer. “Stay still. Don’t try and move. Help is on the way.” The smell of gasoline mixed with the disgusting copper stench of blood. She swung the light all around. Steam continued to ooze from the engine compartment. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. “I’m going to wait for the ambulance. Okay?”

“No. Please.”

He tried to search for her, his eyes obviously unable to focus. Struggling, he shifted then screamed out in pain.

“Okay. You’re okay. I’ll stay right here with you.” Shivering, from adrenaline as well as the cold breeze, she prayed help would arrive soon.

“Help. Help… Coming to… get her.”

Her? The boy had no idea how terrible the wreck had been. “I know. You’re going to be just fine,” Sienna softened her voice and remained talking to him until she heard sirens in the background. As the sound of roaring engines drew closer, she breathed a sigh of relief. A rumble and squeal of several tires drew her attention as a fire engine, an ambulance and a sheriff’s car rolled up her driveway. “They’re here now. Everything is going to be okay.”

She stepped away, looking at anything but the damning scene as she walked toward the vehicles. Men and women jumped out, of the fire engine, the majority headed straight for the car. A single man approached just as the door to the sheriff’s car opened.

“Ma’am. I’m Captain Frietag of the Goochland Fire Department. Can you tell me what happened?”

His voice was kind, soft and comforting. So damn similar to the one from… No, she had to concentrate. “I didn’t see the accident. I was awakened by the noise.”

Now, I wonder who might come to her rescue? My guess is a sexy cowboy deputy, but you’ll have to wait to find out…

Kisses…

Piper

SPECIAL GIVEAWAY – HONOR AND OBEY

I have what I hope you’ll find an awesome giveaway and one I planned very carefully. Honor and Obey is my latest release from Blushing Books and as the title suggests, this is about three different couples and their struggles with regard to their relationship. After talking, arguing, going to counseling and almost breaking up, each couple determines domestic discipline might be the only chance at saving their relationship.

Domestic Discipline isn’t for everyone. Changing to a situation where the man is the absolute head of household is challenging and requires significant discussion as well as complete honesty shared. Methods of discipline for rules infractions are doled out and as you can imagine, this is often gut wrenching in acceptance for both the man and the woman. There’s something else that is vital – love. Without love and total commitment to each other, there is simply no way couples will flourish on what some consider to be an incredible journey.

In penning six stories for the two volumes, I hope the love shines through. Often symbols are used to signify the change. Did you happen to notice the necklace on the cover? I had my brilliant cover designer, Brenda Gonet, find just the right picture for the cover. A necklace (or what some call a collar) signifies the woman’s submission or acceptance of the man in her life as the head, the leader and the protector. I think the depiction is beautiful.

I have a wonderful friend, Sandy Leigh Davis, who is my fabulous fan page administrator and an amazing jewelry designer. So, I had her create a necklace as a give away. This is a one of a kind. Take a peek at the picture. This is the exact necklace I’m giving away. Here’s a little bit about her company, Leigh’s Creations.Give away necklace

Sandy Leigh Davis was born in Arkansas but raised in Mississippi. She’s been married for 31 years in October to the love of her life. She has two grown son’s the oldest son is a police officer with three children which she keeps during the week. The youngest son is a Calvary Scout in the Army. She has always loved different types of jewelry and enjoys creating different pieces. She has turned her love for the craft into a business called Leigh’s Creations. She makes Necklaces, Earrings, Bracelets, Key rings and Bookmarks. She’s learning new techniques for creating unique pieces. She would love to create a unique and special piece for you.

You can contact her on her Facebook page Leigh’s Creations or email her a leighscreations68@gmail.com

I can tell you that her creations are gorgeous and I have many items that will be give aways in the future – BUT – never a necklace like this one. What do you have to do in order to win?

First, you’re going to have to read the book in order to answer the question. If and when you know the answer, email me at piperstonecreations@gmail.com with the answer. Those who answer correctly will be entered into a drawing for the prize. On this coming Tuesday, I’ll select the winner. What’s the question?

In Her Silence, Chad thinks of four important words about Raven’s submission just after he asks if she’s ready for her punishment. What are they? 

Thank you so much to everyone who’s read and loved this book. Please let me know what you think! Volume two will be released in early November. Here’s the purchase link. Remember, free on KU so what’s stopping you from enjoying and taking a chance?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0757YYM64/

Natural Order Within a Relationship

Is there such a thing? Well, the words can mean many different things to each one of us. Perhaps the word ‘order’ is akin to organization or to keeping your life in a particular place. I have a wonderful book coming out next week highlighting three different couples going through significant enough difficulties in their relationships that divorce in imminent. Each one tries domestic discipline almost as a last resort. dominant sayingHow do they handle their need to change? I hope you’ll check out Honor and Obey volume one.

I love having lively discussions about alternative lifestyles and while researching over the years, have talked to many men and women both D/s (Dominant/submissive) and DD (Domestic Discipline lifestyles. Recently, a male friend who every so often reads one of my books asked whether I believed BDSM and its various sister relationships such as D/s, M/s and DD could coexist with religious individuals. I think he means living in, working in and perhaps in a sense playing in the same space. Hmm… That does leave one to a big pause. My beliefs may be a bit jaded. Many of you may have read that domestic discipline has roots in Christianity. I mentioned that in a recent blog. If you Google the words you’re going to find many a site embracing the concept with a heavy dose of religion. The faith seems to be there along with the understanding, and my guess from taking passages from the Bible, that men were created to be the head of the household. All throughout the various passages within the sacred book, there are references to the man being in control.

Even if you follow the way of evolution, male apes were hunters and gatherers. They protected the women and the children of the clan. They were the ones who fought to the death if necessary. Through every century, every period of time there were certain punishments issued for wrong doings.

In the medieval days, punishment was doled out for misbehaving women who fought against their required duties. Spanking was regularly used. Even art work derived from eighteenth and nineteenth centuries depict wives over their husband’s knees receiving a hard spanking. There were other methods of punishment clearly seen and written about as well. If you’ve read anything about the period of time, you know there were torture chambers that would kick the butt of anything today. However if you look at the pictures, truly see what methods of discipline were being used, well… Are those the early beginnings of BDSM? Perhaps. From stockades to whipping stations, whips crafted from the hide of a cow to the invention of a cane, the methods were primitive but highly effective.

In other words since the very beginning of time until fairly recently there seemed to be that “natural order” and the concept wasn’t challenged, rarely pushed against. There was no question of women obeying their fathers then their husbands. They simply did as they were told.

Perhaps somewhere around the industrial age the thought of equality came into the forefront. Women’s rights took ahold and we know the world as it is today. Don’t get me wrong. I completely believe in women’s rights and they can be much better suited to run a corporation, should hold office, and serve in the military. However… if you’re spiritual at all you might embrace the concept that the natural order of things has been disturbed. Women began to take on more of the workload, both in and out of the home. As they began to earn money they of course spent more time out of the house and equality for women was born. I’m not here to negate the facts or to take sides, other that you’ve heard me say before I believe men have been rather emasculated by equal rights. Men feel it every day even though they might not want to say anything.

I don’t know exactly when the word “obey” was taken out of the marriage vows, but pretty much the culture was the deciding factor. Households became very equal and both the man and the woman shared everything, including stress. Arguments about money, family, friends and life became a mainstay and depending on how close or how far apart you grew as a couple seemed to depend on the rate of divorce.

No one wins these arguments either and you know the type I mean. We’ve all had a screaming battle with our spouse over what turned out to be n-o-t-h-i-n-g. The incident left a bad taste in our mouths and we usually raced away in anger, seething. Often times we went to bed enraged. Sometimes the wretched event started all over again. Who wins in this situation? No one. I can tell you that many of these kinds of arguments have left a bitter taste that lingers into months, even years later. What if you could do away with that level of angst? What if you both knew the rules and realized what would happen if they were broken? Sounds simplistic but…

My male friend has grown curious, especially since he’s read some of my stories. He’s been exploring more on sites such as Fet Life and has been reading Tied in chair 2articles and blogs, talking to Dom’s as well as searching the Internet in his quest to learn more. He realized, just like I have, the many couples are again turning toward more of a domestic discipline type relationship. Why? Probably because marriages aren’t working. We don’t have to look at a book of statistics to realize how high the divorce rate is. Even I’ve mentioned marriages should be like a lease on a car. Every five or ten years the lease is up, then you re-evaluate to determine if changes are needed or you simply terminate.

What if the relationship was based on the set of rules and the wife obeyed the husband period? There was no question, no wishy washy. Hmm… Let’s ponder the modern day version. She’d probably have an outside life including work and friends, a budget to spend and the opportunity to do what she wants within limits. What would be the major changes? She’d be required to tell her husband where she was going and have permission. She couldn’t spend the credit cards to the hilt. She’d have to do whatever chores were assigned to her and yes, she’d please him in methods of sexual pleasure as well. None of these are set in stone. Of course every couple has a choice to make their relationship what they want it to be, including every rule imposed. Couples talk about the rules together and determine which work. Then the husband often makes the final decisions. But if she broke the rules she would be punished.

There is some difference in a D/s (Dominant/submissive couple) but they have the same basic structure. The word is ‘structure’ and for many women, they truly embrace the love and devotion, the attention and care the husband/Dom has. They feel adored and cared about, safe and protected. They know they can go to him and ask for help and when they feel stressed even a spanking might make them feel less tense. If you really stop and think about the dynamics, doesn’t this seem natural? He’s the caretaker, the hunter and gatherer in the modern day sense, and he has your best interest at heart. What could be wrong with this? Just some thoughts.

Kisses…

Piper

HONOR AND OBEY SYNOPSIS – COMING AUGUST 30th

Honor and Obey—cherished words from the past and ones that can be difficult to live by. Relationships are difficult at times and arguments or bitter feelings can often Honor and Obey_500x755result in the destruction of love. What if an alternative lifestyle can change everything? What if love and trust can be reborn, wrapped in a blanket of obedience? Will the couples take the chance in the hope of saving their love?

Her Gift

Her Request

Her Silence

Three couples. Three stories of heartache. Three reasons to learn to honor and obey.

Do they have what it takes?

Confessions of a Sinful Submissive

Forgive me my Sir, for I have sinned. I’ve forgotten to do my chores today, received a speeding ticket for going fifteen miles over the speed limit and masturbated in the office bathroom at lunch. I know I deserve a hard spanking!

You can laugh, but I often wonder how many submissives need to confess various sins on a regular basis. In writing, I try and bring the level of angst along with the blindfolded in chairultimate love, worry and fear, understanding and forgiveness. Both the Dominant and the submissive are challenged by each other. Confessing often expedites the difficult situation. Or so a submissive would like to think. Could I or would I confess? Hmmm…

I’m a rather opinionated woman. I think any Dom would have a difficult time controlling me and admitting my sins? I’m not certain I would be good at that. I have two books coming out – volumes of stories where the women in the relationship learn that being obedient, submissive and receiving discipline for their sins creates harmony in the home. Is that really possible? Would confession actually help?

In Honor and Obey, I explore these questions and more. I absolutely loved getting into these characters, finding that moment they finally open up, share their inner soul. Tougher to do than you think.

Confessions. The word itself means so many different things. Whether you’re confessing a sin, a want or need, or a varying aspect of your personality others aren’t aware of, divulging secrets can be uncomfortable. We all have various thoughts or desires that we keep secret, but often things occur when we least expect them, requiring us to air our dirty laundry. People are very complicated, complex, as well as completely different inside and out, and that makes for interesting friends, lovers etc. I think one aspect that remains true for all of us – we long for acceptance. I’m realizing this more and more lately.

When I write stories, whether D/s, paranormal or gritty horror, there’s always an element of one or more characters who are hiding something grizzly. Readers savor peeling an onion, finding the juicy yet fallible center. We root for the bad guy in television and movies, and let’s face it, what girl doesn’t hunger for the rough-hewn biker type? While the exterior may be a little rugged around the edges, the heroes of our dreams all have a soft center. By the end of the book or movie, they’ve opened up to the woman they hunted, confessing their dark desires as well as intimate details about their past. The formula is all the same in romance novels. Boy meets girl, boy chases girl and he, she or both have a dirty little secret. He chases her. He pushes him away. Then they ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after on a ranch/mansion/magical island. Yeah, right.

My D/s stories are quite a bit different, don’t you think? Why are they? Because of the added complexity of living in a sense two completely different lives. You live one every day when you work, spend time with certain friends and around your mother in law. You live another entirely when you’re behind closed doors. Your obedience to your Master truly begins. This is very much the way of D/s couples. The vanilla world may never know who we (yes, I place myself in this category due to what I write) truly are.

The majority of women are strong willed, very opinionated and don’t mind telling the world their thoughts. I know I push hard, often raging against the machine. In talking with several Heads of Households, they love a spirited woman who speaks her mind. They simply want to be obeyed. Again, I think with a D/s relationship, the very frank and open lines of communication allow for very pointed discussions that include various uncomfortable topics. This alone pushes away the need to hold a secret.

Let me as you a couple of questions. Are you ready to confess your sins to your lover, your Dom, your family? Can you tell the most important people in your life who you really are? Can you rip off the mask and expose your underbelly? I think for a lot of us, the question remains unanswered. We’re terrified of being made fun of, ridiculed too hungry to waitfor our beliefs. I’m not a religious person in any manner, but I do appreciate the Catholic Church and the ability to confess your sins. Once the act is complete, the confessor is exonerated, free of their evil or wicked deed. The sins are stated behind closed doors, anonymity a promise of secrecy. I’ve often wondered if some very creative murderers dropped various clues simply to unload burden from their souls.

While God and the church might be forgiving and non-prejudicial, some of our loved ones just might not be as accommodating. Then there’s the other aspect, confessing your needs to yourself. Often times we can be our own worst enemy. We anguish over our dark desires, as if they’re a bad thing. There isn’t a Dom or a Head of Household, husband or boyfriend in a vanilla life that doesn’t or shouldn’t do the same thing. We all need to expunge, cleanse.

The circles surrounding D/s or DD couples are often small. The reasons are simple. We’re judged all the time as humans. Why do we want to bring additional strife into our life? While I’m a ballsy chick and could care less the majority of the time about what others think, I grow as weary of the bullshit as anyone else. So the circles of those who truly understand an alternative lifestyle are kept intimate. We’re happy with that. The joy of sharing is wonderful indeed and I’m glad we have a select few who will never judge, but the risk with others isn’t worth the prize. So we keep the dark side a secret from the overall majority.

As we all know, there isn’t a person alive who isn’t keeping some sort of a secret from someone. White lies are often told and husbands and wives have a very separate life many times than the one they live with. I’ve seen many a vanilla marriage derailed over purported secrets, ones that didn’t even exist. When they do and they’re discovered, wound and trauma tend to ensue. Granted, when one spouse confesses to another, all hell can break lose. Should he or she have opened their mouths after being confronted? That’s a question I can’t answer, but personally I believe when someone is keeping a significant secret, there’s a great deal of unhappiness in their lives.

With regard to a D/s relationship – do I believe in the lifestyle? I honestly do believe the sharing, the giving and the closeness is unequaled. I revel at the thought. Could I find peace, a portion of my soul? That is for another blog to discuss…

I hope you’ve enjoyed.

Kisses and spanks…

PS – I’ll have some excerpts for you later this week along with the cover reveal!

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!

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?”

A Dom’s Control

I’m often asked why I write spanking, D/s and DD books. I can tell you that given the popularity, there is quite a bit of interest. I thought you’d like to read about the concept of a Dom’s control. Research is the key and the best way to do that is talking with someone who practices one of the lifestyles.

After several recent and very intense conversations about the sadism within a D/s relationship, I’ve reflected on something JP said. He’s an old friend and great man, exploring the lifestyle while trying to maintain his vanilla life. He always talks about his concern whether he is Domly enough. I have a new twitter follower, a Master, who seems to believe that being a gentlemanly Dom is the truest form of embracing the concept. One of his tweets, and I think originating from his submissive, was the if a Dom doesn’t allow his submissive to tease or to seduce him at times, then the man doesn’t understand being a true Dom. I’ve learned many aspects of the lifestyle from talking to others, which allows me to write stories with a more knowledgeable mind.

Sharing and talking, laughing about the stupidity of people, drinking, opening upwoman in blue ribbon about fears, listening to music – these are the basic elements within every couple. Why would they be any different within a D/s relationship? Why should a man hunger any less to be desired, which is exactly what happens when any women flirts, teases and leads her man down a sensuous path. This is all about the fact she desires him, and as she moves through her various phases of seduction, she’s showing him in no uncertain terms she’s famished. In need.

While I don’t practice the lifestyle, I have asked myself basic questions. If I were in a D/s relationship, how would I react? Do you think I’m any different? Well, of course not. I would readily accept, embrace and love the submissive role; however, I would want to make certain he knew he was wanted as a man. Some aspects of letting him know are all about being sexy. From Victoria’s Secret so I can match my undies to a flaming red or vibrant “stripper” fuchsia pink dress, to massages and washing his back, candles and his favorite cigar – these are all methods of seduction. They also reiterate the desire, love and devotion. Remember, Dom’s are men first, manly always. And girls, we know men need affirmation more than they care to admit.

When men feel wanted and loved, they are much more self-assured and for Dom’s, I believe they are much more likely to enjoy fully their role as Dom. They love and crave the power, the feeling of being dominant over another, while still being seen as a sexy beast. Within every D/s relationship, both the Dom and the submissive grow both independently as well as together as a couple. The Dom accepts more control, the submissive letting more go. The power exchange morphs, the two roles becoming easier to identify. My experience is that when you add in discipline, punishment and aspects of playtime, some Dom’s begin to see their level and longing for control in a different manner. Why? Garnering a taste of how amazing euphoria can be on both sides, can push the emotional state to another plane altogether.

JP always experienced a “high” after using the belt or the quirt. In talking with other submissives, they describe the experience as being magical. I realize this is somewhat difficult to explain to those who’ve never gone down this road, but pain and pleasure are a fine line. This is similar to love and hate. Whether you want to use the expressions you’ve most likely heard before – reaching subspace, or the release of endorphins, that’s what occurs. The tingling effect is left for days in our case. Raw emotions are dazzling. When you go to this incredible plateau, it’s reasonable to think both the Dom and the sub might want more.

When does this “high” move from playtime and discipline to something more extreme? When does the Dom’s need for control become compromised? These are good questions and should be addressed.

With anyone accepting the dominating role within a relationship, they have various responsibilities. They are bound by respect and a code of honor, as well as their devotion, to keep their submissive safe from harm, whether from others or within the realm of their personal training. There were very important words told to me by another Master a couple of years ago. “I will hurt you. I will not harm you.” Those words couldn’t be a truer statement if certain aspects of sadistic acts become important to the Dom. JP always called this his dark side.

His gentlemanly ways were there from day one. He’s a kind, gentle soul with a dominating force that he was never allowed to experience until recently. When you’re given the acceptance to free your soul, share the deep-seeded hungers you’ve been terrified to express your entire life, you’ll experience true freedom. This is also where the two sides mesh together so well. Deep love enables you to delve into fears and needs, desires about the darker side of kink. I think without complete love, respect and trust, no two people could be so honest to admit sadistic or masochistic needs. Why would you consider?

silver handcuffsSo many people balk, laugh at or shun with prejudice anything they don’t understand or fear. People love to admonish others, their tastes and choices. No one in their right mind would open up about something so intimate, yet a trait many see as abusive. The conversations with JP? Enlightening. Amazing. Terrifying. Powerful. Life changing. His honestly allowed me to see needs within myself. His sadistic desires aren’t extreme, merely pushing past comfort levels, tasting something completely different. Do I think his tendencies can grow, his needs increase? Of course. If you find something you enjoy, you’re going to want more. Control is vital.

I’m not just talking about controlling the amount of pain inflicted, the number of whip strikes. I’m also talking about bridging what are now three aspects of a life together. There’s the vanilla side every D/s couple will share to a degree. There’s the D/s portion involving guidance, training, following various basic rules such as how to greet the Dom, or behavioral controls. Then there’s the more sadistic side of playtime. Does this mean every aspect of his guidance within his dominating role will have a sadistic flavor?

That’s a very daunting question. I think this is what I’ve been reflecting on. He mentioned that he’s changed and his partner changed as well. Again, his frank conversations allowed me to look inside myself. Could I do this? Maybe. Perhaps writing about D/s relationships means I have a bit of submissive needs buried inside. Embracing my submissive tendencies opened my eyes to so many things, helping mold a well-rounded person.

However, I am still the ballsy, willful and very take-life-by-the-balls kind of chick, plus I’m very passionate and romantic in all those girly ways. I love candles and romantic dinners. I love sitting by a fire, reading to each other. I adore taking a shower together and giving long massages. I would want this side as well, wouldn’t you? I would also want to know my rules clearly and have a gentle Dom who administers them, knowing I’d fuck up every once in a while. While punishment is supposed to hurt, I believe everyone needs to feel safe in his measured control. Trust is vital. In other words, I would need the complete package – a passionate and thoughtful Dom who respects all sides of me so his nurturing and guidance is effective as well as controlled. Does this kind of man exist in real life? I honestly believe his does.

What do you think? Can the three sides co-exist within a D/s relationship?

I hope you enjoyed.

Kisses, spanks and happy reading

Piper