They’d buy her, free her, and persuade her to have werewolf babies - #Paranormal #Werewolves #Spanking #Post-apocalyptic @KryssieFortune

 

Blurb

As a breeder - one of the few fertile women left in a ruined, plague-ravaged world - Cassie would fetch a handsome price at auction, and selling her to the highest bidder was exactly what her captors had in mind... until two fearsome beasts decided to take her for themselves.

 
Eli and Dane have chosen Cassie for their mate, and when she makes a foolish attempt at escape she quickly ends up tearfully promising obedience as her bare bottom is soundly and shamefully punished. Her body's response to their stern dominance cannot be denied, however, and it isn't long before she is screaming out her intense, helpless pleasure as she is roughly and thoroughly claimed. But will Eli and Dane's pack accept a human girl or will Cassie be an outsider forever?

Buy links

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Amazon Australia https://amzn.to/2RvViwV

Or READ FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED

 

Excerpt

 

A tic started in Dane’s jaw. When he took a deliberate step toward her, Cassie panicked and ran for the door. Grabbing her around the waist, Eli dragged her toward the bed. He perched on the edge and pulled her over his knee. “A bare bottom spanking should remind you not to put yourself at risk.”

She hung, head down, feet kicking as she tried to break free. Eli planted his huge hand in the small of her back and pinned her in place. His touch felt like a warm caress that leached the fight out of her.

When he stroked his free hand over her bottom, her cunny dampened. His voice turned raspy and hoarse, as though he struggled to speak. “When I’m done, Dane will punish you for making him dive into that swell. Those waves could have battered you against the barge or washed you away. Your actions were inexcusable, whatever your motives.”

He shoved the baggy jumper he’d loaned her up around her waist, baring her bottom.

Hissing in a breath, she kicked and struggled, desperate to escape his grip. He tangled his legs through hers and stroked her bare bottom. “Stay still, princess, or I’ll double your punishment.”

Cassie’s head-down, bottom-up position made her feel defenseless and weak. No one, not even her parents, had ever laid a hand on her. Even in human form, werewolves were super strong with enough stamina to keep them going for days. Hell, if he hit her too hard, he could shatter her spine. She’d been an idiot to think these dominant males had a kindly side.

Cassie lifted her head and tried to catch Dane’s eye. For all his stern exterior, he could stop Eli from spanking her—she hoped. “Please don’t do this. I’m sorry. I was stupid, okay? Isn’t it enough that the pair of you scared me half to death yesterday when you busted me out that castle? Now you’re going to beat me for trying to get away from killer werewolves. I’m begging you. Let me up, please.”

Dane surprised her by crouching beside her and smoothing her curls back from her face. He gathered her wrists in one hand and stared into her eyes. “We’re sorry we scared you when we sprang you from the vampires. Not that you gave us much choice. I’m going to stay beside you while Eli spanks you. Keep your eyes on me.”

She’d thought Dane was the stern one who’d do anything to get what he wanted. The way he reassured her helped, but she still wriggled and kicked to get free.

About the Author

Kryssie lives by the beach and loses track of time when she writes. Her days are full of dashing regency rakes, former soldiers so handsome they make her drool, and the sexiest werewolves ever. The odd vampire makes it in there too, but when he does, he’s drop dead gorgeous.

Her pet hates are unhappy endings and cliff hangers. She guarantees you won’t find either in her books. Her books sizzle with sensual heat, but story always comes before sex. Even when part of a series, her books can be read as stand-alone romance.

Kryssie Fortune Social Media

Website http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie

Blog http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/

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No spanking? What's a couple to do? New #audiobook #BDSM from Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

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Just who is the cat and who is the mouse? #GayRomance #BDSM #HistoricalRomance @KetaDiablo

Craven and his friend Anthony are in over their heads the night they're caught spying on Beresford Hall. When Craven meets the dark, mysterious Dominic Beresford, he wonders if fate really does step in and take you by surprise when you least expect it.

Dominic Beresford has led a licentious existence, one that includes wealth, luxury and a carefree attitude when it comes to sexual liaisons . . . until the night he catches two young men spying on his property. Intending to frighten them into never breaching the privacy of another again, he takes them at gunpoint into Beresford Hall.

He is inexplicably drawn to one of the young spies, Craven Saunders, and cannot fathom how this handsome young man was able to turn his world upside down in such a short time. Dominic’s game of cat and mouse suddenly runs amuck.

The question is . . . just who is the cat and who is the mouse?

Review Snippets

“Magnolia Heat is well worth the read. I will be looking for more from Ms. Diablo in the future (especially if Craven and Dominic are involved.” Book of The Week and 4.5 Stars” Whipped Cream Reviews ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“Carnal delights that are erotically written and hot, hot, hot to read. The sexual interactions are incredibly well written.” Rainbow Reviews 5 Stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“This book moves along at a very fast pace, keeping you on the edge of your seat, panting for more. Magnolia Heat is a great read!” Dark Divas 5 Stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“The way Diablo breathes life into her characters is fabulous. From the sexy mysterious Dominic Beresford to the unassuming student Craven, I was hooked from page one!” Moonlight, Lace and Mayhem, 5 Stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Excerpt

“Perhaps you’d care to tell me your name and why you were snooping about my private property?”

“Craven Saunders, sir, and we weren’t snooping―”

“What do you call it, young man, agate-picking?” He shook his head, his voice stern. “I detest it when someone lies to me. If you’re determined to spy on others, be man enough to admit it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir, what?”

Craven’s tone took on the innocent pleading of a child. “We were spying, Mr. Beresford, but I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt about that, Mr. Saunders.” He arched his neck, the sleek, hair shining like onyx beneath the candlelight in the room. “I must inform you, my valet, Higginbotham, claims you’ve been spying for weeks. Knowing Higginbotham is an honest man, I conducted an investigation myself last Friday eve.” The man swiped a hand across his erotic mouth, the gesture turning Craven’s knees to marmalade and his already dry throat to an arid desert.

Craven hung his head. Damn, he could do nothing but confess. “Your man spoke the truth.”

When Craven garnered the courage to look at him again, the man gave a shake of his head. “Craven, an odd name, is it not?”

“Yes, sir,” he interjected. “It means―”

“I know what it means―weak, spineless, fearful.” The world tilted on its axis when the man took another step toward him and raked him over with those deep blue orbs. “Do the adjectives describe you, Saunders?”

“No, Mr. Beresford, sir, I don’t believe they do.”

He studied the man, captivated by smooth, silky cadence of his voice. If indeed Beresford stood before him, Anthony couldn’t have been more correct. Magnificently stunning, he oozed male virility. The dim light of the bedchamber could not hide it. His mouth full, his nose straight, every feature of his face must have been crafted by a skilled artisan, or, perhaps, a patient God. Craven couldn’t drag his gaze away from the man’s luminescent orbs. His stomach somersaulted and he longed to be touched by him, fucked senseless. Had he been out in the sun too long that day?

“Well, we shall test the theory about your namesake.” The man’s languid once-over sent shivers down his spine. Closing the remaining distance between them, he took Craven’s chin between his thumb and index finger and forced him to look into those piercing eyes. “What makes you think my name is Beresford?”

Get your own copy of Magnolia Heat by Keta Diablo

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IMGBC0G

About the Author

Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the United States on six acres of gorgeous woodland. When she isn't writing or gardening, she loves to commune with nature. A pair of barn owls returns to the property every year to birth their young and show them off in the high branches of the oak trees. Nothing more adorable than these white fluffy babies with heart-shaped faces. A lifelong animal lover, Keta devotes her time and support to the local animal shelter. Emma LaPounce, a rescued feline, has been her furry companion for the last ten years.

Keta is an award-winning and bestselling author who writes in several genres: Western Romance, Historical Romance, Paranormal Romance and Contemporary Romance. Occasionally, she writes Gay Romance. Her books have received numerous accolades, including RWA contest finalist, Authors After Dark finalist, Top Pick of the Month and Recommended Review from many top review sites, and Best Romance Finalist from The Independent Author Network.

Keta would love to have you follow her on the Net:

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Saturday Spanks: Rajasthani Moon - #BDSM #SteamPunk #SaturdaySpanks

It’s Saturday – which means it’s time for some spanking!

Today I have an intense excerpt from my multi-genre fantasy romance Rajasthani Moon. Enjoy!

Blurb

Neither kink nor curse can stop a woman with a mission.

Cecily Harrowsmith, secret agent extraordinaire, is a woman on a mission. When the remote Indian kingdom of Rajasthan refused to remit its taxes to the Empire, Her Majesty imposed an embargo. Deprived of the energy-rich mineral viridium, essential for modern technology and development, Rajasthan was expected to quickly give in and resume its payments. Yet after three years, the rebellious principality still has not knuckled under. Cecily undertakes the difficult journey to that rugged, arid land in order to determine just how it has managed to survive, and if possible to convince the country to return to the Empire’s embrace. Instead, she’s taken captive by a brigand, who turns out to be the ruler’s half-brother Pratan, and delivered into the hands of the sexy but sadistic Rajah Amir, who expertly mingles torture and delight in his interrogation of the voluptuous interloper.

Cursed before birth by Amir’s jealous mother, Pratan changes to a ravening wolf whenever the moon is full. Cecily uncovers the counter-spell that can reverse the effects of the former queen’s hex and tries to trade that information for her freedom. Drawn to the fierce wolf-man and sympathising with his suffering, she volunteers to serve as the sacrifice required by the ritual—offering her body to the beast. In return, the Rajah reveal Rajasthan’s amazing secret source of energy. In the face of almost impossible odds, Cecily has accomplished the task entrusted to her by the Empire. But can she really bear to leave the virile half-brothers and their colourful land behind and return to the constraints of her life in England?

Steam punk? Ménage? BDSM? Paranormal? Bollywood? BBW?

 

All of the above!

Excerpt

Pratan seized her by her long hair and hauled her to her feet. Of course, with her ankles bound, she could not walk. Half pulling, half carrying, he bundled her over to the closest pillar, jerked her bound arms up, then pushed her face first against the rough wood. The bark abraded her naked breasts and belly. She tried to squirm away from him, but he leaned his weight against her back while keeping her wrists pinned against the pillar above her head.

“Rebind,” he growled. In a flash the robotic rope unravelled and reconfigured itself, looping tight around both her arms and the column supporting her. Once he was certain she was secure, he dropped to his knees and touched the rope at her ankles. “Unbind.”

Cecily stumbled as the force connecting her ankles disappeared. Her relief at being free was short-lived. Pratan dragged her legs apart and inserted some sort of rigid bar between her shins. “Bind.” Before she could take two breaths, her legs were restrained in a permanently spread position, wide enough to allow her captor easy access to her sex.

Indeed, realising the degree of her exposure made her terribly aware of her quim, which she could not deny was soaked and swollen. You must be strong, she told herself. Think of England.

The cool air of the cave teased her bared flesh. Then a light touch, delicate as a feather, traced its way along the inside of her thigh. Her pussy clenched and moisture dribbled out. The impudent finger smeared the juice across her sensitive skin. Pleasure sparked through her.

“You can’t fight me.” His voice was like warm honey now, all the anger gone. It flowed through her, unbearably sweet. “And I don’t think you want to. There’s no shame in surrendering when you’ve been rendered completely helpless.” Pratan trailed his fingers upward, brushing across her damp nether curls. Lightning struck, searing her aching clit. She convulsed in her bonds, unable to control her reactions.

“Who are you, my plump little dove? Tell me your name.” His roving fingers skimmed the slippery walls of her outer lips. She bit back her moan but couldn’t help arching back to seek more contact. He dipped into her wetness, deeper than before, but only for an instant. She writhed against the pillar, welcoming the scrape of the bark on her taut nipples.

He had three fingers inside her now, or maybe four, plunging in then pulling back before she could tighten her muscles to hold him inside. He still kept well away from her throbbing, needy clit. She ground her pubis against the tree trunk. The indirect pressure offered some relief, but not enough to satisfy her.

Swat! “None of that now!” His calloused palm landed on her bare arse with stunning force. Her soft flesh burnt in the wake of the slap. Meanwhile, the delicious stimulation in her cunny vanished. “I won’t let you spend until you’ve told me what I want to know.” Swat! His second swipe hurt more than the first. Her buttocks wobbled with the power of his third blow. The sting raced straight to her clit.

Cecily chewed at her lip to contain her groans. She’d make the Queen proud.

“Do I need to whip you? I’d be glad to.” Her skin chilled as he stepped away from her body, taking his heat with him. With her face turned in the opposite direction, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but she heard him moving around the cave. Her clit pulsed like a radio beacon, broadcasting her need and demanding attention. Her scent rose around her, overwhelming the musty dampness of the cave. She tried to relax, to let some of her arousal drain away. She would not—could not—allow him to break her. He seemed to know, though, that she could bear pain a good deal better than sexual frustration.

She recalled receiving her instructions, back in London. Z looked more like an elderly country vicar than the head of Her Majesty’s secret service. “We are all relying on you, Miss Harrowsmith,” he’d told her. “The Queen believes that, given the reported youth and virility of these rebel princes, you are the ideal operative for this mission. I will not deny, however, that we are sending you into grave danger. You must remain in control at all times.”

Remain in control. The recollection was bitter. Here she was, in her enemy’s hands, more or less helpless to resist. 


Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Rajasthani-Moon-Lisabet-Sarai-ebook/dp/B00D47R9E6


Totally Bound:  https://www.totallybound.com/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=2135

Leashed, collared and put on display - #regency #spanking #kindleunlimited @KryssieFortune

Blurb

 

When her brother tries to force her into a marriage with a detestable baron, Julianna Halstead flees the family estate she has helped manage since the death of her parents. But as she makes her escape late at night, Juliana’s carelessness nearly results in her being trampled by a galloping horse, and the steed’s handsome rider takes it upon himself to correct her right then and there.

Though having her bottom bared and soundly spanked on the side of the road leaves Juliana blushing crimson, the punishment arouses her intensely and her body’s helpless response cannot be hidden. To make matters worse, the gentleman over whose lap she was so firmly chastised turns out to be none other than Viscount Stonehurst, someone she has known since childhood.

When Stonehurst learns of Juliana’s predicament, he decides to make her his bride. She will be no ordinary wife, however. She will be something much more shameful. But even as she is leashed, collared, and put on display in a cage wearing only a tail, then brought out to be used in ways no proper lady should enjoy, will Juliana come to love her new life as the viscount’s pet?

Publisher’s Note: The Viscount’s Pet is a stand-alone novel which shares the Regency-era setting of Wickedly Used and His Innocent Bride. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy links

 

Amazon USA

 

Amazon UK

 

Amazon CA

 

Amazon AU

OR READ FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED

Excerpt

 

The horse and rider appeared from nowhere.

Julianna sidestepped and dropped her bag. Her ankle twisted beneath her, and she tumbled to the ground. When the horseman tugged hard at the reins, the coal-black stallion reared, its forelegs pawed the air. She screamed and closed her eyes. Curled into a ball, she waited for its ebony hooves to pulverize her.

The rider swore, the horse whickering as it planted its feet in the dirt by her face. Tiny dust clouds rose from the road. She coughed and crablike, she scuttled to the fallen oak at the edge of the copse. The bracken smelled earthy, and the thick foliage cushioned her bruised ribs.

Her heart beat overtime when the horseman dismounted and stalked toward her. Wearing a black greatcoat and muffler, he towered over her. Grabbing her wrist, he hauled her upright.

Even in the evening twilight, his hair shone the same blue-black as a raven’s wing. His features were familiar, but she had no idea why. One glance at his steeply angled eyebrows and she wondered if he was the devil come to claim her.

Her brother would have grabbed her shoulders and shaken her until her head ached. That or hurled vile insults at her. Instead, the dark horseman’s eyes twinkled with good humor. She couldn’t decide if they were midnight blue or ebony black. Their mysterious depths and sloping eyebrows gave him a demonic air.

His high cheekbones were so sharp Michelangelo could have chiseled them from marble. There was a cleft in his square chin that she wanted to stroke. His broad, kissable lips made her want to lick and taste, but they were set in a stern, disapproving frown. If he smiled, his dark charisma would mesmerize any nocturnal creatures. Bats, foxes, and badgers would flock to his side.

His utter masculinity sent shudders along her spine. Devilish and terrifying, he emanated menace and danger. She should be shaking in fear, but he sparked wicked longings in her soul.

Untouched and innocent, she hated how her nipples pearled and damp heat creamed between her legs. She needed his lips pressed against hers and his hands on her body. For a woman who’d sworn never to marry, that scared her more than his fury. If not for his tight grip on her shoulders, she’d have run off into the night.

Her pulse still raced, but she buried her fear beneath a haughty manner. “Unhand me, sir. I’m late as it is.”

Rather than let go of her arm, he tugged her closer. He smelled of citrus fruits and freshly gathered mint. When her gaze meshed with his, lightning bolts sizzled between them. Head bent, he moved toward her. She puckered her lips in anticipation.

Blinking, he straightened abruptly. “I could have killed you, you little fool.”

Disappointment crushed her soul. Her ribs ached from Kit’s assault and her ankle throbbed from her fall. Sniffing back tears, she thought of her mother’s pampered cat and tried to out-stare him. “My apologies, sir. I should have been paying attention, not daydreaming along in the twilight. Since neither of us is hurt, we can go on our own ways.”

“Not until you’ve learned your lesson,” he snapped.

Pulling free from his hold, she rubbed her wrist. Nervous, she retreated toward her portmanteau, ready to grab it and run. Shooting forward, he hoisted her over his shoulder. The undignified position made her ribs throb. His hand splayed over her rear end, caressing and stroking it as he pinned her in place.

Five steps and he’d carried her back to the tree trunk. Once settled on it, he thrust her over his knee. “Naughty little girls who risk their lives deserve a spanking. And I’m just the man to give it to you.”

About the Author

Alpha males and their sassy mates rule in Kryssie Fortune's books. If the hero's a shapeshifter, ex-military, or into BDSM so much the better.

Kryssie grew up climbing trees and playing with imaginary dragons. She still loves dragons, and if she can sneak one into her books she will.

Her pet hates are unhappy endings and books that end on a cliffhanger.

Kryssie's books are hot and explicit but the plot always comes before the sex. Since she writes erotic romance, she guarantees a happy ending.

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