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Friday, December 19, 2014

Interview with Spanking Romance Author, Carly Burton

Interview with spanking author, Carly Burton.

I have a brand spanking new author with me this evening - Carly Burton, a name I'm sure you will be hearing again in the not too distant future. Carly's first spanking romance ebook, Charlotte’s Fulfilment, has recently been published. Here's what Carly has to say about her first book, and why she finds spanking romance so appealing.

When did you write your first spanking story?

I was on holiday in April this year with family and spent quite a lot of time travelling in the back of the car. This gave me an opportunity to think and fantasise, and my first spanking story was mapped out in my head. I started to type it up as soon as I returned home and surprised myself by remembering each detail; it literally flowed until it was completed.

What made you want to write a spanking story?

I’ve been reading spanking stories for several years now, some really good ones, others not so good. Sometimes I would get disheartened if a story went in a direction I didn’t like, or left me disappointed and it occurred to me that I could create my own

What about romance, how important do you think it is?

I love romance, the relationship that develops between two people is really special and I like to explore the intricacies it creates. When a strong male takes on a female who needs his discipline it makes my insides go to jelly! I love dwelling on the interaction, feelings, responses and reactions, a bit of conflict thrown in makes it even more exciting. Of course, I always need a happy ending.

What’s your favourite spanking position and implement?

Like many others, the intimacy of over the knee spanking is by far the most satisfying to me, with a hand doing the spanking. The security of being held firmly, over a strong knee and flesh to flesh contact of hand on bottom is delicious!

Are your family and friends aware of your interest in spanking and writing?

Absolutely not! Only my husband knows, and he is a massive support to me, encouraging me to explore my sexuality in this way.
My adult son and daughter run for the hills if we even hint at anything sexual between us, you know how kids are? It’s quite a joke actually, we enjoy teasing them, but I’m not about to shock them with the revelation that their mum is a spanking romance author! (Not yet anyway!)

You have just had your first ebook published, how do you feel about that?

I’m astounded that I have my first ebook Charlotte’s Fulfilment on sale. It’s amazing to think that a book I have written can be purchased all over the world, but I have to hope it gains enough attention to tempt people to buy it. My wish is for people to read my book, enjoy it, and be aroused and excited by it. Maybe that is asking too much for my first attempt at a novella?

Do you have any plans to write another book anytime soon?

I already have a substantial part of a plot in my mind, but I have work commitments that must be fulfilled before I commit my thoughts to the computer! I know that once the writing bug takes over, it becomes an obsession and I have to type frantically, it’s all I want to do. I have to be very stern with myself to complete my work before I am allowed to play! I hope to start very soon though.

Is there anything else you’d like to share with our readers?

I’m just a normal, everyday woman who has recently allowed my interest in spanking to break free, and I feel so liberated. I intend to continue reading as many stories as I can and I hope I will be encouraged enough by sales of my book to continue writing as well. If I can help others to lose themselves in the world of spanking romance fiction, then I have achieved something at least.


Charlotte’s Fulfilment

Having been cheated on and hurt by her former partner, Charlotte has erected emotional barriers around her battered heart, and shunning the possibility of a future relationship with a man, remains unfulfilled.

Looking to get away and escape from the constant demands of work and family, she decides to go on a two week solo retreat at an exclusive resort in the country. Here she meets a man with whom she has an instant attraction, a man who is strong enough to help her forget the past and who is not averse to taking her over his knee for a bare bottom spanking when she needs it.

Charlotte, however, is a strong character herself and is used to being in control - can she accept his dominance and still retain her self-respect or is she destined to remain lonely and unfulfilled?


Thanks very much Carly. Good luck with your sales, and we look forward to hearing all about your next work in progress :)

Charlotte’s Fulfilment is Available from Amazon & LSF Publications. Click here for further info.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

A Visit to Constance Master's blog

Hi folks, I'm on Constance Master's blog today, featuring Mail Order Mary - a Western spanking romance featuring the deliciously hunky cowboy, Nathan Miller. :) So do check out Constance's blog here.

Thanks, Constance :)


And coming up soon on my own blog will be an interview with brand spanking new spanking romance author, Carly Burton. Her debut novella is Charlotte's Fulfilment. More on that shortly.

Little Lucy and the Doctor from Chloe Carpenter

A big heads up for fans of Chloe Carpenter who is fast making a name for herself. Her new title is another winner.

Little Lucy and the Doctor contains scorching spankings, temperature takings, intimate examinations, and plenty of hot sex. It also features dominance and submission, humiliation and sensation play, as well as ageplay between an adult woman and an older man - in this case the sexy, kinky yet kindly, Dr Simon Dale.

Fabulous cover and a fabulous story.

If you love ageplay and medical play with a dash of romance, this is for you.


Little Lucy and the Doctor is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Friday, November 28, 2014

Mail Order Mary gets a punishment spanking ...

Mary is in bother again, this time for almost burning down the kitchen after leaving some chicken frying on the stove ... She gets a spanking and discovers that punishment spankings aren't quite so much fun as the other sort ...

"Go to the table." The cold voice set her scurrying towards it. "Bend over." She obeyed, coughing a little as the remaining fumes wafting in from the smoke-filled kitchen caught the back of her throat. This was all a horrible dream. Nathan looked so angry at her - and who could blame him? He raised her skirts and tugged down her drawers, baring her bottom. But the dynamics were different now. This was no longer exciting. This was an ordeal, something to be got through, something that would hopefully redress the balance and set things to right. Mary knew he was angry and that she had disappointed him.

"Six," was all he said.

She heard the tiny sounds of metallic jingling as his belt was unbuckled and drawn out ready to use; then there came a dull yet ominous sound as he doubled it over and checked the length, holding it firmly and swishing it through the air to ensure it was just as he wanted it. Screwing her eyes shut tight, Mary held her breath.

The crack of the leather striking her flesh echoed from the walls an instant before the pain shot through her. Even though she expected it, the first stroke had her gasping. At the second she yelped, and then as each stinging blow fell she cried out, her wails rising as the heat grew, blossoming as a line of fire trailed across her cheeks, followed by another a little lower. The belt fell hard across her cheeks, branding her again, and again, until six red welts blazed on her pale skin. Mary tried to be stoic, she tried to remain still and take her punishment without demur, but as each blow fell she cried out a little louder in shock at the pain. She'd never been disciplined this way before - and this strapping was both degrading and humiliating. And painful. She could feel the welts rising after each stroke. But the worst thing, worse even than the horrible burning pain, was the cold fury in Nathan's eyes.

When it was over she lay across the table gasping as Nathan rebuckled his belt. Her poor bottom smouldered, surely hotter than the fire in the skillet. Somehow, she expected he would leave her like that, expecting her to pull herself together, dress, and get on with things.

But he didn't.

Tenderly, he smoothed his hand over her blazing cheeks. Gently, he rubbed away the worst of the sting. "I'm sorry I had to do that. I only gave you six, and used only moderate force, but it was necessary, Mary. You need to know never to do that again. You could have burned the house down and yourself with it." To Mary's surprise, he pulled her up, spun her round to face him, then crushed her to him in a hug. "I can rebuild a house. But if anything had happened to you..."

Mary didn't know how to react at this unexpected treatment. Her emotions took over. She began to cry - big heart-wrenching sobs that shook her frame and melted Nathan's heart.

"Hush now," he crooned. "Hush. It's over now."

But once she had started, Mary found it difficult to stop. Tears were a rare thing for her, and this was a release. She sobbed and sobbed, as Nathan held her close. Dimly she became aware that he had lifted her and was carrying her upstairs. He laid her on the bed and opened the window to help clear the air. Returning to the bed, he sat on the edge, reaching out to stroke her hair.

"I'll be fine," she snuffled. "Just leave me alone."


Mail Order Mary is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Getting to grips with cooking, housework, and spankings! Mail Order Mary.

Mary's new life on Nathan Miller's Montana ranch is a far cry from her previous life at Ashford Hall in Victorian England, where she had a maid to attend to her needs, and servants to cook and clean. Her first foray into cooking is something of a disaster, and although Nathan tries to keep a straight face - he fails
Unfortunately, things didn't go quite according to plan. When Nathan approached the ranch house he wrinkled his nose. Something was burning. Stepping into the kitchen, he took off his Stetson and fanned the thick air with it. Mary was oblivious to his arrival. There she was, standing at the stove, wearing the gingham dress and one of Martha's calico aprons. With one hand she held a fork which she used to poke several blackened sausages sitting forlornly in one pan, and in the other hand she used a wooden spoon to prod some yellow-looking substance in a smaller pan. Every couple of seconds, the hot fat in the sausage pan would spit, and Mary would yelp and jump backwards. Nathan grinned, and was hard pressed not to laugh out loud.

"Say, Princess - looks like supper's ready."

She turned, her face flushed, gobs of sausage fat staining her apron. "Oh Nathan! I'm learning how to cook! I'm doing just fine... at least, I think I am." She looked at the black sausages. "Do you think these are done yet?"

"I should say so." Nathan's lips twitched. "I'll set a couple places for us at the table."

"Oh damn! I should have done that. It never even crossed my mind."

"No harm done." He reached for the cutlery, and then held out two plates. "Here ya go. Dish up."

Mary proudly levered out the charred sausages - two for her and six for Nathan. "Omelette next." She angled the pan to slide the omelette out. It didn't move. It just sat there in a big solid lump. "Oh that's odd. Martha said it should slide out of the pan and then I serve it folded over." She turned the pan completely upside down. The omelette remained firmly stuck to the bottom.

"Just get a knife to it," volunteered Nathan, and then winced as the knife bent under the strain of levering out the eggs.

They sat down to eat, and Nathan valiantly ploughed his way through the burnt offerings. Most of the food was just about edible, providing he sawed off the blackest bits of the sausages and accepted that the omelette was supposed to be a rubbery over-cooked blob.

"This corn bread is wonderful," he said, his mouth full of it.

"Martha made most of it," said Mary.

There was a poignant silence and then Nathan began to shake. At first, Mary thought he was ill. "Oh - Nathan - are you unwell?"

Lord's sakes woman, I will be by the time I've eaten this lot! "No," he said in a strange voice.

"No? Then why are you shaking? Oh - you ... you're laughing!"

Nathan couldn't keep it in any longer. He guffawed loudly and rocked, holding his belly. Mary stared at him, and then a little giggle escaped her.

"Is it that bad?"

"'Fraid so." Nathan snorted, tossed back his head and laughed until the tears prickled his eyes.

In spite of her misgivings, Mary had to smile. "Oh well, you can fill up on cornbread, and there's chicken broth and molasses cake left over from the midday meal - sour-dough biscuits too." It occurred to her that Martha had deliberately left her stocked up in case of a mishap with supper. She sighed and levelled a look at Nathan who was doing his best not to laugh but failing miserably. "I'm trying."

"You're very trying," he agreed, and cracked out laughing again.

This time, Mary joined in.

Mary tries to get to grips with domestic pursuits. Here's another extract ...

She even washed the bed linen ... only to ruin the best sheet with a big ugly brown scorch mark when she got the iron too hot.

"I should spank you for that," said Nathan. He gave her a look that was part exasperation, part tenderness, and part lust.

"Why don't you," she said, and then opened her mouth in shock. Why did I just say that?!

"Well, if you put it like that. Come here, Mary Grace." He sat on the sofa and patted the vacant space next to him.

She approached slowly, with downcast eyes, but when she darted a glance at Nathan, he didn't look remotely cross. On the contrary, he seemed pleased and surprised.

"Um, you aren't really going to spank me, are you?"

"Of course I am, woman. You don't for a minute think I'm going to let an opportunity like this slip through my fingers, do you?"

"Ah, but I didn't really mean it."

"Shucks. Too late. Over you go." He reached for her and in seconds she was once again in the most undignified position over his lap, her bottom waving in the air. He grinned at the sight and let his right hand rest for a moment on her cheeks, savouring the moment.

"I didn't mean to burn your sheet!"

"I know, and that's not why you're getting a spanking."

"Why am I getting one then?"

"Because you want one."

"Oh no I don't," she declared hotly ... yet even as she spoke the words she once again experienced those unfamiliar feelings of excitement and sexual desire.

"Oh but you do," he whispered huskily. His hand descended, not hard, but firm enough to be felt. Another spank was delivered, and another ... and another.

"Ohhh," gasped Mary as she felt her skirts being raised waist high, exposing her white cotton drawers. The realisation suddenly hit her that this was pleasant! It was more than pleasant ... she was enjoying it immensely, and the mere thought of him lowering her drawers made her shiver in anticipation, shame, and excitement. He was right - she did want a spanking!


Mail Order Mary is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

The threat of a bare-bottomed Spanking is about to become reality

The tempestuous Mary defies Nathan again. He had promised her a bare-bottomed spanking if she continued to disobey him - and being a man of his word, he has no qualms in making good his threat.
"Don't cross the boundary!" he bellowed, then clicked in exasperation as she hurtled ahead, in the direction of the boundary that marked ownership of White Tail Ranch land. "Damn the woman," he muttered grimly, his palm itching to spank some sense into that cute little ass.

When he caught up with her she was way beyond the perimeter, sat astride the stallion with not a care in the world. But when she saw Nathan's thunderous look, some of her euphoria vanished.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, suddenly unsure of herself.

"Hell yeah - I reckon there's one big problem, girl - and that's you."

"Me? But ... what did I do?"

"You paid me no heed and went riding off, crossing the boundary."

"I can ride well enough," she said with a toss of her head. "I don't see why you're being so objectionable."

"Objectionable, huh? You think this is objectionable, wait till I get you back to the ranch," he growled, his hand moving to his belt. "You know nothing of these lands and people. This stretch of land is notorious bandit territory, particularly at night."

"Oh. Well I didn't see any bandits." She pouted, a little sulky that her wild ride was spoiled by his silly accusations. "I - oh! What are you doing?!" she squealed as Nathan's big hand shot out and grabbed her. He lifted her effortlessly off Midnight's back and hauled her up in front of him. "Home, Horse," he said, slapping Midnight's flank, and the stallion responded, riding abreast. "As for you, Mary Grace, I promised you a bare bottomed spanking if you disobeyed me again, and that's exactly what you're gonna get."

Mary gasped and sat in silence. Several emotions coursed through her: outrage at his suggestion, tempered with that strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach, reinforced by the feel of his strong arm holding her close; and anger that he had yanked her off her horse without so much as a by-your-leave. Insufferable man!

And when he gets her back to the ranch, he makes good his threat. Read on...

His chuckles infuriated Mary. "Let me GO!" she spat. "There's no need for this. You're embarrassing me!"

"There's every need for it. And you, Mary Grace, are about to be further embarrassed." He steered her into the living room, sat himself down on the couch and pulled her over his lap. He got down to business immediately, raising Mary's skirts without ceremony, bringing his big hand down on her round bottom that strained the fabric of the white cotton drawers.

"Oh! You beast of a man!" she cried as his hand cracked down. "You can't do this!"

"No?" His hand splatted down again, beating a rhythm on her bouncing buttocks.

Mary protested vehemently, kicking her legs and lashing out at his rock-hard calves with her fists. She relaxed when he stopped the spanking, thinking it was over, then stiffened immediately as she felt his hand reach for the waist band of her drawers.

"I promised you a bare bottom spanking," he reminded her, eyeing her peachy curves wolfishly. Nature had endowed her with a temptingly full, soft, and ripely-curved bottom. Her sweet buttocks were rounded like a peach and he felt a sudden urge to nuzzle her flesh with his mouth and kiss those glorious twin hemispheres. Instead, he brought his hand down firmly across the plumpest part of the target area, delighting as those soft mounds quivered beneath his palm. "This is for your disobedience." Down came his hand, sending her cheeks jiggling provocatively.

"Ohhhh!" Mary squealed. This was shameful. This was ... strangely exciting. How could that possibly be, given that this man had bared her bottom and was spanking it?!

"Two spankings in one day. Not bad. How many will you get tomorrow I wonder - three?" He grinned, greatly enjoying the spectacle before him, but kept his voice strict as he berated her. "You put your life in danger twice today, and I won't have you doing it again, you hear me?"

Splat! His hand swatted down on the under-curve of her cheeks, now turning a lovely deep pink.

"Ow! Oh! I'm sorry - I won't do it - Ow! - again."

"Damned right you won't, girl." The spanks resounded through the room, punctuated by yelps and promises to behave.

Mary squirmed and wriggled like a fish. Both sets of her cheeks were beginning to glow - one set with the sting of a spanking, the other with embarrassment at being in such an immodest position. But truth be told, Mary was having a hard time making sense of the intense feelings elsewhere in her body. She felt her nipples harden, they were so stiff they actually ached and she longed for ... for what? The little voice in her head reminded her what George the groom had done with the parlour maid.

When Nathan finished and sat her up, she was breathing heavily, bottom throbbing, chest heaving - and such was her inner turmoil, she failed to notice that he was breathing heavily too.

"That was yet another lesson in obedience, Mary. That's twice now that you've put yourself in danger. If you want to last a week out here you need to pay heed to what I tell you."

Mary stared at those blue eyes of his, at his strong jawline, his mouth ... Oh but she suddenly felt a very strong desire to be kissed. "Sorry," she whispered.


Mail Order Mary is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Passion and Spankings - Mail Order Mary

Nathan shows Mary to the corral and introduces her to a beautiful black stallion, telling her how he came by it. When he gives the stallion to her as a gift, she is overwhelmed and acts on impulse, hugging the big cowboy. Nathan isn't at all averse to the gesture and her closeness reminds him that it has been a long time since he last had a woman ...

"It was old Jake fixed this one up - he has a healer's touch. That was six months ago and as you see, the horse is good as new. My guess is he was probably stolen, look at him - he ain't no ordinary horse."

"He looks like a thoroughbred. He's beautiful." In her haste to see him at close quarters, Mary began to climb the fence. She was halfway over when Nathan grabbed her and lifted her over. "Steady," he warned, noting her unsuitable kid boots. He made a mental note to get her another pair she could wear for riding.

Nathan watched as Mary made her way over to the stallion. She remained a few feet away from him and waited for him to come to her, all the while making comforting little noises at him. The horse took a step forward, then another... and another.

"Well I'll be damned," said Nathan. "He's not usually so trusting of strangers."

Mary stroked his sleek coat and let him nuzzle against her hand. "There, boy," she murmured. "We're going to be good friends, you and I."

"Want me to saddle him up?"

Mary spun round, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Oh - would you? Yes! Please. I'd love to ride him."

When he returned, Mary stared at what he carried. "That's not a side saddle."

"Nope. Don't have one. Besides - you'll be safer riding astride."

"Astride?!" No well bred ladies rode astride. It was most unbecoming... practical though. She made her decision. What the heck! Why not?! "Right. Saddle him up."

Nathan grinned and did so, then without hesitating lifted Mary bodily onto the horse's back. At least the full skirt enabled her some modesty and freedom of movement as she swung her right leg over. Meanwhile, another ranch hand saddled up Nathan's horse, Whiskey, and opened the corral gate so the two riders could venture out.

Nathan was impressed. Mary was confident in the saddle and seemed to be a proficient horsewoman. He set a faster pace, and the two horses cantered side by side, breaking into a gallop. Mary whooped in delight, her golden hair streaming out behind her like a golden banner. On they sped, the horses hooves thundering over the terrain. Eventually, Nathan slowed the pace and they came to a standstill by the creek.

Mary dismounted lightly and stood by the stallion's head. "You're a beautiful boy," she whispered, stroking his mane. The horse tossed his head and snorted, then nuzzled against her hand. "I think he likes me."

"Reckon he does. What are you going to call him?"

"He hasn't got a name?"

"Nope. Just 'Horse'."

"You can't call him that! I think you should call him ... Midnight."

Nathan dismounted from Whiskey. "Midnight it is then. And he's yours."

Mary blinked. She stared at Nathan, incredulous. "Mine?"

"Uh huh. If you want him, he's yours."

"Nathan! I'd love to have him! Thank you! Thank you so much!" Without a moment's thought, she acted on impulse, lunged forward and flung her arms around the big cowboy. "Thank you so much. I'll take good care of him, I promise."

Nathan chuckled, and his arms went around her, hugging her close. She looked up at him, her face wreathed in smiles, and he felt good that he'd made her happy. His cock pulsed in agreement as he considered how many other ways he could give pleasure to her. It was three years since he'd had a woman, a saloon girl who wasn't averse to doling out sexual favours, but he'd forged no long term relationship with her, merely taking the pleasure offered and then moving on. The ranch had kept him occupied, and what women were available in the neighbourhood didn't take his fancy. Not like this one. Not like Mary Grace Ashford. In such a short time, she had gotten under his skin.


Mail Order Mary is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Her First Spanking ... Mail Order Mary gets more than she bargained for!

When Mary is offered a place to live on Nathan Miller's ranch, he tells her quite clearly not to wander off further than the first fence. But does she listen? No she doesn't! She goes beyond the fence and finds herself practically on top of a nest of rattle snakes.

Nathan comes to the rescue in true heroic fashion, then carries Mary off over his shoulder and gives her her first ever spanking ...

There was a slight sound from behind her, but though she turned her head, no one had approached. A moment later, the sound intensified; puzzled she looked again but saw no one.

"Oh it's nothing," she told herself, and continued to relax and enjoy the view - until the sound of a gun shot exploded less than two feet from her position. The noise of the shot reverberated, echoing around the valley. Startled, she squealed in alarm and jumped to her feet, poised to run.

"Don't move! Keep still."

"W-what? You shot at me!" she said in disbelief as Nathan approached. He raised his gun again.

"Mary - don't move an inch."

There was something in his tone which sent shudders of fear down her spine. Hardly daring to breathe, she forced herself to remain still, though her heart was beating wildly in her chest and tiny rivulets of perspiration beaded her brow. Another shot rang out, followed by a rattling noise, then Nathan ran towards her, grim faced.

"C-can I look now?"

"Turn around and look behind you," came the curt response.

"Oh my Lord!" Two dead snakes lay within inches of each other. Mary shuddered.

"What did I tell you, woman? I said not to wander further than the first fence. This place has rattlers nesting down beneath the rocks. You almost got yourself killed."

"Oh. I ... I forgot."

"Then I'll be giving you a little reminder." His eyes glinting, Nathan reached out and grabbed her and hauled her unceremoniously over his shoulder.

Surprised and indignant at being forced into this undignified position, Mary voiced her protests. "You can't do this to me, you big oaf! Let me go! At once!"

"I'll let you go when I'm good and ready," he growled.

Unused to being ignored, Mary began beating his back with her fists and kicking her legs. As soon as they had cleared the rocky incline a hard hand swatted down on the back of her skirts.

"Oh!" she blinked in surprise. "How dare you do that! Let me down!"

Crack! That hard hand descended again, and much to Mary's acute embarrassment, there were cat calls and cheers of approval from the ranch hands. Four or five of them had gathered by the fence to watch the entertainment. Miguel hadn't exaggerated in the least in his description of Nathan's new woman. Every eye was on her, or rather on her upturned backside, and each man had a huge grin on his face. This was an unexpected treat!

"Show's over boys," said Nathan. "Back to work." He strode towards the house, carrying Mary like a sack of potatoes, and though his captive kicked and wriggled, she was powerless to escape his iron grip.

Once inside the ranch house, Nathan lowered his wriggling bundle to the floor in the kitchen. A furious Mary immediately sprang to her feet and hissed at him like a wild cat as he grabbed her arm. She pushed against his chest, annoyed at the lazy smile as he assessed her puny strength. Arms flailing, her blows were easily blocked by the big cowboy.

"You brute!" she spat, swinging her arms wildly, and then by pure chance she managed to evade him and her hand slapped hard against the side of his face. She paused, shocked at what she had done. For a moment he was still, blue eyes glinting - and then he sprang towards her. For such a big man, he moved with the speed and grace of a mountain lion.

Before she had chance to draw breath he had deposited himself on one of the kitchen chairs, and for the first time in her life, Mary found herself sprawled face down across a man's lap.

"Get off!" she yelled.

"No way, lady. I warned you there would be consequences for disobedience. Not only did you pay no heed to my instruction, you put yourself in danger. People out here can die from snake bites." He raised her skirts. Mary gasped, not quite believing what was happening. "You would be dead if I hadn't shot that pair of rattlers."

Mary felt her skirts being raised up and over her thighs, and then to her horror they were tossed up and over her back where they fell in a great swathe of fabric around her head and shoulders.

"Noooo!" she shrieked. "How dare you!" She kicked and kicked, desperate to free herself, and then froze as she felt his iron palm rest on the seat of her drawers.

"Time to face the consequences," he said as his hand slapped down hard on her upturned bottom.

"Oh! Ohhhh!" she cried, outraged at such treatment.

"My house, my rules, remember?" Another spank descended, followed swiftly by another and another.

"Ow! Oh! You can't do this!"

"Oh yes I can. You've earned yourself a bottom warming." His big hand cracked down hard on her hindquarters.

"Oh! Ow!" she shrieked. "You big ugly oaf!"

"Big ugly oaf, huh?" His voice was stern but there was a grin on his face as he delivered several more stinging spanks, making her kick and squirm and squeal. He admired the way her rounded bottom bounced beneath his palm, the way her buttocks strained against the fabric of her drawers. Once again, he felt the tightening sensation in his groin and a smile played on his lips as he wondered if she would realise just what the hardness was that was pressing up against her belly.

Mary gasped. She had only ever seen an erect penis once (though at that time she didn't know the name for it until she later discovered it in a book on anatomy in father's library), and that was by pure chance. Laying on the grass reading in a little glade in the grounds of Ashford Hall she had heard giggles and strange little whimpers. Stealthily she had got up and peeked out from behind a bush - and with bulging eyes beheld George the groom minus his breeches, his manhood standing out like an iron bar before he lowered himself down into the welcoming embrace and splayed legs of one of the parlour maids. It was an image that haunted her dreams, and sometimes her waking moments too, making her experience that curious tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach. And right now she felt rather than saw, the rock hard protuberance that was so much a part of her tormentor, and it seemed that the more she wriggled and squirmed, the harder it became.

"Ohhh," she wailed, her face suffused with colour, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Little did she know it, but her other set of cheeks were starting to glow too, each spank adding to the heat building up in her rear end.

This was so unfair. After all, she'd only slapped him once, not two dozen times or more! Once again, she voiced her protests, her squeals now muffled as with all her struggling, her skirts ballooned down over her head. But there was a part of her that was thankful to him for saving her life. Even so, there was no need for this ungentlemanly behaviour!

"I'm sorry," she yelled. Another spank landed. "Hey - I said I'm sorry - so you can stop now."

"You don't call the shots here: I do, and I'm telling you this, Mary Grace, I'll stop when I'm good and ready and not when you think you've had enough."

"But I have had enough," she wailed. "And anyway, no one uses my middle name."

"They do now," he affirmed. "Mary Grace, you're a wilful young woman." Splat! Splat! "And if I have to deal with you in this manner again ..." Splat! Splat! Splat! "You'll get spanked on your bare bottom."

"Oh! How dare you say such a thing!" Mary was shocked ... the very thought of him baring her bottom ... oh how shameful!


Mail Order Mary is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Monday, November 03, 2014

Writing good sex scenes

Writing good sex scenes
One of my favourite authors is Diana Gabaldon. I love her works and have her hardcopy titles proudly sitting on my bookshelves like the old friends they are (unlike mass market paperbacks which I read and then recycle without shedding a tear). I was delighted when Outlander was filmed, and as for Sam Heughan, the actor who plays Jamie ... yummmm! He's HOT! What ... forgotten what he looks like? Let me remind you ...

I digress... Diana wrote a piece earlier this year for a Canadian magazine, Chatelaine, on the topic of writing sex scenes. Most of us love a bit of smut, don’t we ... admit it, and according to Gabaldon, where most beginning writers screw up (pun intended) is in thinking that sex scenes are about sex. A good sex scene is about the exchange of emotions, not bodily fluids. That being so, it can encompass any emotion whatever, from rage or desolation to exultation, tenderness, or surprise.

Lust is not an emotion; it’s a one-dimensional hormonal response. Ergo, while you can mention lust in a sex-scene, describing it at any great length is like going on about the pattern of the wall-paper in the bedroom. Worth a quick glance, maybe, but essentially boring.

So how do you show the exchange of emotions? Dialogue, expression, or action—that’s about the limit of your choices, and of those, dialogue is by far the most flexible and powerful tool a writer has. What people say reveals the essence of their character.

She makes some valid points: You want to anchor the scene with physical details, but by and large, it’s better to use sensual details, rather than overtly sexual ones. (Just read any scene that involves a man licking a woman’s nipples and you’ll see what I mean. Either the writer goes into ghastly contortions to avoid using the word "nipples"—"tender pink crests" comes vividly to mind — or does it in blunt and hideous detail, so that you can all but hear the slurping. This is Distracting. Don’t Do That.)

So how do you make a scene vivid, but not revoltingly so? There’s a little trick called the Rule of Three: if you use any three of the five senses, it will make the scene immediately three-dimensional. (Many people use only sight and sound. Include smell, taste, touch, and you’re in business.)

Ok, that's all for now. :)

Sunday, November 02, 2014

Another Sexy Spanking Cowboy ...

I'd like to share an extract from Mail Order Mary. Mary has journed from England to America, only to find things don't turn out quite as she had planned ... but a stranger steps in to help ... a handsome cowboy who has no qualms in turning her over his knee for a spanking when she misbehaves. And she misbehaves a LOT!


The heat of the afternoon was intense, and the odour of the place was appalling, being a mixture of cattle and horse dung, stale beer and sweat. She wrinkled her nose in distaste, then resolutely picked up her bag and headed off to the building across the road which bore a saloon sign. It was as good a place to start as any!

She received many admiring looks and cat calls from various men, for the sight of an attractive single woman was a rarity. Ignoring them, Mary pushed her way through the saloon doors and stepped inside. The hum of conversation hushed as she made her entrance and all eyes turned towards her.

Mary swallowed, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and took a few steps more. "I'm looking for Isaiah Bean. Can someone please tell me where I can find him?"

No one responded, but Mary noticed that several people turned their gaze from her to a weasel-faced old man with a mop of unruly grey hair sitting at one of the tables surrounded by several empty glasses. His right arm was around the shoulders of a brassy-haired saloon girl, her breasts straining to be free of the tight fabric of her low-cut bodice. The man stared at Mary; what teeth he had left were stained dark brown. Trickles of beer ran down his chin into his wispy grey beard. He wiped his mouth with a dirty, ragged sleeve.

"Yeah? Who's askin'?"

Some instinct warned her not to answer that question. She stared back at the old man, and the sinking feeling she experienced when she walked into this place intensified ten fold. With an effort, she kept her voice level. "I'm asking. Where is he?"

"He's right here, pretty lady," he cackled and patted his lap, shaking off the embrace of the saloon girl. "Come sit with Isaiah," he said gleefully.

Mary felt the world spin as the blood rushed from her head. She staggered and grabbed hold of a chair to help keep her upright. "You? You're Isaiah Bean?"

"I sure am. And who might you be?"

"No one." Mary shook her head, reeling in disbelief.

A speculative look crossed Isaiah's weather-beaten face. "Say ... you look like you've been travelling awhile. And you don't talk like the rest of us. Where you from, huh?" He got up from his chair and lurched towards her. "I got an idea who you might be. I'm darned sure I'm right. You'll be my wife come over from England. You'll be Ruby Fairweather!"

"No," whispered Mary. "I'm not she."

"Oh but I think you are," said Isaiah. He lunged forwards and deposited a wet kiss on Mary's lips, his hands pawing her rear.

"Uggh! Get your stinking hands off me, you loathsome little man!"

Isaiah's look turned mean. "It ain't good to insult your intended husband lady. It ain't good at all." He grabbed her and leaned in for another kiss. But this time Mary was prepared. She balled the fingers of her right hand into a fist and punched him on the nose. There were many guffaws of delight from the crowd at this unexpected display of entertainment - a delight not shared by Isaiah. He blinked in surprise, then bellowed out his anger as blood spurted from his nostrils. He raised his right arm to strike her a heavy blow, but was intercepted by a restraining hand on his arm.

"Hold it, Bean. Leave the lady be."

"What's it to you, Miller?" Isaiah turned and aimed a punch at the cowboy, who deftly sidestepped it then delivered an upward blow to Isaiah's chin, sending him sprawling on the floor.

Isaiah dragged himself upright and aimed a punch at the big cowboy, who again deftly stepped out of the way, so Isaiah's blow hit someone else - who retaliated at once. It wasn't long before a full scale brawl was taking place, guys joining in the fist fight just for the hell of it. During the mayhem that ensued, Mary tottered out of the saloon on wobbly legs. The bright sunlight hit her and the heat ... oh such terrible heat ... she gasped and felt dizzy, and would have fallen had it not been for a steadying hand on her arm.

"Here, take my arm," said the stranger. It was the same cowboy who had intercepted Isaiah's blow. He was a giant of a man, tall, broad-shouldered, with heavily muscled arms and powerful thighs. A pair of vibrant blue eyes pierced her own. "Where are you heading?"

"I ... I don't know. I've nowhere to go and I've used up most of my money, and ... and I don't feel well." Mary staggered along as pulsing waves of dizziness sent her reeling. And then there came the respite of welcome darkness.

When she came to, she was sitting on a sack of flour in the back of a covered wagon and the stranger held a cup of water to her lips.


"I don't want-"

"I said drink."

She drank, and drained the cup, and began to feel a little better. The man hunkered down opposite her regarded her thoughtfully. "Feeling better?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"So you're Isaiah's mail order bride?"


"You're not Ruby Fairweather then?"


He raised an eyebrow. "That's not what it says here." He held up a piece of paper.

"Oh! You've been snooping in my luggage! How dare you!"

The stranger merely shrugged. "While you were in a faint I looked for some identification. And I found it - Ruby."

"But I'm not Ruby," she wailed.

The stranger gave her a hard stare. "Ain't no need to lie. I don't hold with liars."

Mary bit her lip. "Look, I don't know who you are, but-"

"I'm Nathan Miller."

"Mr Miller. You've shown me kindness and I appreciate it. Please believe me when I tell you my name isn't Ruby Fairweather. It's Mary Grace Ashford. I'm the daughter of Sir Henry Ashford, and my mother is Frances, Lady Ashford of Ashford Hall, Surrey, England. I ran away."

"You what?" His eyes widened in surprise. "You ran away from England?"

So Mary began to tell him her story, and once she started, the words flowed freely. It was a relief to unburden herself. She told him everything, leaving nothing out. "So imagine how I felt when I got here to find that ... that horrible stinking little man is the one I'm supposed to marry. Kitty warned me. I should have listened. I just dismissed her warnings and said I wouldn't marry anyone if I didn't want to, and that I would have enough money to carve out a new life for myself. Only ..." Tears welled up behind her eyes. "... I haven't even got enough left for the passage home, and I don't know what to do!" She covered her face with her hands and although she tried desperately hard not to cry, hot salty tears trickled down her face.

Nathan leaned back. This was an unexpected development. She was a pretty little thing. Courageous. Spirited. He liked that. But stupid also to place herself at such risk. And headstrong ... probably stubborn as a mule and used to getting her own way, coming from a family of quality and wealth. He pondered the options: he could give her the money for her passage home; he could give her a sum of money to stay in the town - but what would she do in the long term if she stayed here alone? He wasn't going to have Isaiah Bean putting his grubby paws on her again. Or ... he could take her home to the ranch.

"Here," he said gruffly, handing her a none too clean handkerchief. "Dry those tears. You're coming with me."

Mail Order Mary is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Saturday, November 01, 2014

Get The Look of Love ...

Romance isn't just for the twenty-somethings. Do check out Leigh Smith's latest work - The Look of Love: family secrets. It's published today - congratulations Leigh :)

Having known each other for only three weeks, Scott and Erica surprise everyone by eloping to Las Vegas to be married. Over thirty years later and blessed with children and grandchildren, they are still very much in love and unable to keep their hands off each other. Unknown to their family and friends, however, they engage in a domestic discipline lifestyle with Scott as the head of household, and Erica subject to disciplinary spankings whenever the need arises. Erica has a tendency to make arrangements and commitments without consulting Scott and it is this behaviour that more often than not earns her a trip over Scott's lap.

Later the couple decide to sell up and move to the countryside where Scott, who manages the family business - Carson Environmental Solutions - has plans to build an eco-friendly house. They take up temporary residence in the Serenity Cabin at the Creekside Bed and Breakfast and later purchase a motor home where they can reside until work on the new house has been completed. During this time, however, they discover that both their children's marriages are running into difficulties - it seems that now may be the time to pass on the family secret of their own happy marriage...

The Look of Love is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Mail Order Mary - sexy Western romance

Hi folks, I've been kinda busy lately but have managed to indulge my interest in cowboys to finish my new 38,000 word historical novella, Mail Order Mary. It was fun to write! Here's the blurb. Please enjoy :)

When Sir Henry Ashford informs his daughter, Mary, that he has arranged for her to marry the wealthy Marquess of Stirling, she refuses, horrified at the idea, for the Marquess is an odious man with an unsavoury reputation. Unhappy with her lot, she ponders her escape, and when the opportunity arises to take the place of Ruby Fairweather on board a steamship destined for America, she takes it, with the knowledge that Ruby had been corresponding with Isaiah Bean, a handsome young American man advertising for a wife.

But on arriving in America, Mary's fortunes take a turn for the worse. She is robbed of all her money and has to sell her fine gowns to fund the remainder of her journey to Montana, where she will have to be reliant on the charity of Isaiah Bean. However, when she finally finds Isaiah, she is sorely disappointed. It is Nathan Miller who comes to her aid - a giant of a man with a kind heart and smouldering good looks. He takes her home to White Tail Ranch, and her life changes forever.

The spirited Mary is not used to doing as she is told, and it isn't long before sparks fly between her and Nathan - and the big cowboy shows he is not averse to putting her over his knee for a spanking to help motivate her into behaving better. A complete novice at cooking and cleaning, Mary has several mishaps, and sorely tests Nathan's patience. But as time goes by, the attraction between Nathan and Mary grows. He saves her life and she his, and for the first time ever, Mary feels she belongs somewhere - and to someone.

This period Western romance is a real treat. It begins in Victorian England and ends in rural America. It is a story of courage and adventure, love and adversity.

Mail Order Mary is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Top Pick Review for hot ageplay title - Little Sophie & The Professor

Just wanted to congratulate Chloe Carpenter for getting a Top Pick from Night Owl Reviews!

Little Sophie & the Professor has been awarded a Top Pick Review from Night Owl Reviews! Fantastic. Well done, Chloe.

Little Sophie and the Professor is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Friday, September 12, 2014

The Waitress and the Cowboy

Ok, smacked bottom for me ... what I should have been doing is finishing my work in progress about The Lighthouse Keeper. But instead, I got sidetracked and did a short cowboy story instead!

Here's the blurb:
Grace works long hours in her job as a waitress at a small town busy diner. When a troublesome customer gives her grief, she finally loses it - she kicks him and empties a jug of juice over his head. This unleashes the wrath of Mary Sue who fires Grace. During the commotion a cowboy new in town grabs the customer, a cowpoke at a local ranch, and takes him outside before he can paw at Grace again. Too proud to beg for her job back, Grace walks out of the diner, but the handsome cowboy follows her and tells her he may be able to help. They go to a bar to drink coffee and chat, and Grace finds herself intrigued by Luke Glover - not only is he handsome and intelligent, he's sexy as hell. He puts in a word for her at Landers ranch and gets her a job cooking for the ranch hands. Grace is delighted with her new job - and Luke. They begin a relationship and Grace soon learns that Luke knows just how to deal with her untidiness and sass - he puts her over his knee for a spanking, which leads to great sex! A few days later, Grace shows she has a jealous streak, and when she overhears Luke's phone conversation she misinterprets the situation and rides off in a strop. But Luke is a man who knows exactly what - and who - he wants. He rides out after her, and a whole new future beckons...


The Waitress and the Cowboy is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

The Lighthouse Keeper - an erotic spanking romance work in progress

Delighted to be a part of WIP it up Wednesday. My work in progress is The Lighthouse Keeper.

This is a title that has been simmering away for weeks. I really must knuckle down and finish it! Perhaps I need the motivation of chocolate, or a spanking ...

Anyway, the story is a about a holiday romance between Katrina and Ben, the sexy as hell lighthouse keeper. Here's the opener. I hope you like it. And I hope I get round to finishing it!


Ben headed towards the lighthouse, skirting the brimming rock pools, to walk along the sweep of damp golden sand, leaving a trail of damp footprints in his wake. The beach was strewn with shells, a myriad of pebbles, curling strands of green weed and other debris left by the outgoing tide. Most of the tourists had fled when the heavens opened, and now the beach was practically deserted except for those few who didn't care about getting wet and wind-blown.

The raucous cry of seagulls was carried on the breeze as they soared through the sky then glided slowly downward to skim the surface of the sea, some of them bobbing comically on the eddying waves. In addition to observing the antics of the gulls, Ben's keen eyes saw a figure crouching in the shallows. He paused, staring. Even at this distance he could see it was a woman, her sodden tendrils of long blonde hair twisting and fluttering as the wind caught them. He shrugged, then carried on, but when he next turned his head, he found it odd that she remained in exactly the same position.

She appeared to be hugging herself, frantically rubbing her arms as though she were cold. He fleetingly wondered how long she had been standing there in the water and why the hell she didn't just move out of it. The August afternoon had been bright and sunny prior to the rain, but the sun had now disappeared behind low grey clouds, and the wind was gusting keenly from the sea. Thinking that maybe she was in some sort of trouble, he changed direction and headed for the water's edge.

His instinct was right, for as he drew closer, he could see how pale and strained her face was, and he could hear her teeth chattering.

"Hi. Everything ok?"

Her long hair was plastered to her skull, escaped tendrils whipping her face, the ends floating around her shivering form. She was wearing a white bikini top, and he couldn't but help notice the outline of her nipples through the flimsy fabric that barely covered a pair of well rounded, nicely full breasts.

"Y-y-yes – I'm f-f-fine."

“Yeah? You don't look fine to me. Your lips are turning blue! Get yourself out of the water before you get hypothermia.”

“I-I'm just p-p-paddling,” she stuttered. “I'll be g-g-going soon.”

“Paddling? I don't think so.” He stepped forward and extended his hand. “Come on, lady, out you come.”

She made a small movement as though she were about to reach out and take his hand, but then held back, shaking her head. "I c-can't. I can't come out of the w-w-water," she said, giving him a distressed look, her shoulders shaking with cold as she hugged her wet arms over her chest.

"Why not?"

"Um... well … b-b-b-because..."


"It's gone,” she wailed. I'm going to have to tell him.

“What has?” Geez, this woman is hard work.

“M-my bikini bottom."

Ben's reaction was instant. He guffawed loudly, a big booming laugh that exposed a row of gleaming teeth and crinkled the corners of his eyes. The woman glared at him, the faintest tinge of pink blushing her cheeks.

“Hah,” Ben spluttered. “Sorry, Miss Mermaid. I didn't mean to laugh at your... predicament.” His face broke into another grin as he mischievously darted a covert glance down into the murky water below her waist. Then the gentlemanly side of him kicked in. He shrugged off his battered leather jacket and held it out. “Here. Put this on. It's long enough to cover your, um … well, it's quite big,” he said lamely. “And it doesn't matter if you get it wet.”

She reached for it with shaking fingers and slid her frozen arms into the sleeves. “T-turn around while I f-fasten it.”

“Sure.” He obliged, listening to the lap of the waves as her cold fingers struggled with the zip.

“Need any help?”

"No," she snapped.

When he heard the zipper slide up, he turned. She waded towards him, sea water sloshing around her. Her blue-grey eyes were the colour of the sea, and there was an angry glint in them.

“Thank you very much-”

“Think nothing of it,” he interrupted. “Glad I could help.”

“I hadn't finished.” She glowered at him, her eyes reminiscent of leaden rain clouds. “Thank you very much for laughing at me, you toad.”

“What? Me – a toad?! That's not a very polite thing to say to the guy who rescued you.”

“It wasn't exactly a rescue,” she said dismissively. She was already barging past him, walking quickly over the sand. She paused in her tracks and turned to face him.” He was admiring her nice long legs. The jacket came to her mid-thighs... such delectable thighs they were too. “And anyway, I saw you peeking! That wasn't very polite either.”

“Hey, I stopped to help, didn't I? Gave you my best jacket.”

“Best jacket? This old stinky thing?” she retorted.

“Huh. My jacket does not stink. If you don't want it, hand it over.” He held out his hand. That's got her. She's run out of smart-assed remarks now.

“I'm keeping it.” Off she went again. He soon caught her up on his unfairly long legs.

“I didn't say you could keep it.”

“My need is greater than yours.” She stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn't caught hold of her arm. “Oh damn and blast! Bloody pebbles!”

“Where are your shoes, woman?”

“I had a pair of flip-flops but the damn things were washed out to sea.”

“Don't look at me like that. I'm not giving you mine.”

“I never asked for them. Anyway, you have feet like an elephant.”

Ben's eyes sparked and his palm began to itch. “First I'm a toad, then I'm accused of peeking and having a stinky jacket – which you appear to have stolen – and now I have feet like an elephant. Don't you have a good word to say about me?”

“No.” She strode on, cursing as the shale bit into her bare feet.

“Not even a thank you?” Miss Mermaid opened her mouth to retort … no doubt it would have been something rude... when she stumbled again and crashed into Ben. “Oh I've had enough of this,” said Ben. He grabbed her and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “And now I'm a taxi service. You'll be getting a bill for my trouble.”

“Ohhhhh!” she shrieked. “Put me down! At once!”

“And let you cut those pretty little feet on the rocks? No, I don't think so.” He strode on, a smirk on his face as he held her tightly as she wriggled and kicked. “I'd be careful if I were you,” he warned, “it's not polite doing all that kicking when you haven't got any pants on.”

“Ohhhh!” she repeated, her face flaming with embarrassment. But she stopped kicking and kept her legs firmly together. “You insufferable man,” she muttered.

“If you say so,” he said cheerfully.

Miss Mermaid tried to maintain what shred of dignity she had left by keeping quiet for a minute or two. Though it was very hard to act dignified without any knickers on, and being jolted and bounced and generally tossed around over someone's shoulders. When she did speak it was to say, “Head towards the lighthouse.”

“I already am.” He shifted his burden slightly and began the ascent up a narrow path that led up to the cliff top.

She frowned at this. “Have you been spying on me?”

“No. Why should I do that?”

“Because you're heading towards the lighthouse, and that's where I'm staying.”

“Yes I know.” He soldiered on. Miss Mermaid seemed to grow heavier and heavier with every step he took up the incline. Was this a woman he had tossed over his shoulder or a small hippopotamus?

“What? You know? How the hell do you know that? See – you have been spying on me! I knew it.”

“Stop talking tripe.”

There was a silence. Then he felt her body shake. Poor thing. She must be freezing. “It's ok. We're almost there.” He struggled onwards and upwards, feeling the perspiration trickle from his brow. Was it really a woman he had hoisted over his shoulder, or a small hippopotamus? She seemed to be growing heavier by the minute. Then, to his surprise, the silence was broken by giggles. “Hey – are you actually laughing, Miss Mermaid?” She nodded her head and continued giggling. He rather liked the sound of her laughter. It was infectious. He found himself smiling in addition to sweating. Reaching the little path that led to the lighthouse cottage he set her down. “Ok. Share the joke. I want to know.”

“It's what you said. 'Don't talk tripe' – what on earth is that supposed to mean?” She looked at him, a smile on her face. He liked it, not only her smile, but her face, her legs, the windswept blonde hair and sea-blue eyes... everything about her.

“Beats me. It's something my Granddad used to say.” He grinned back at her. “I reckon it means something like stop saying silly things.”

“You northerners and your funny expressions.” She gave him a quizzical look, which changed to one of horror.

“What is it?”

“My key! Oh no – I left it on top of my flip flops. Shit!” she said crossly.

“Tsk, tsk, more bad language.”

“But you don't understand. I'm staying here for two weeks and I've lost my key.”

“Oh well, we'd best use mine then.” He delved into the back pocket of his jeans and produced it with a flourish. Miss Mermaid stared at it. Then she stared at Ben.

“I don't understand. How come you have a key to the lighthouse cottage?”

“I'm the lighthouse keeper – or was, it's all automated now but I still check in from time to time and do a bit of maintenance if needed. Come on, let's get you inside so you can change into some dry clothes, then I'll explain.”

Friday, August 22, 2014

Interview with spanking romance author Leigh Smith

A warm welcome to Leigh Smith who is with me today to talk about her writing.

Here we go!

How long have you been writing?

It’s no secret that I’ve been writing for about two and a half years. A fellow blogger posted a short story every Friday, and was always calling for stories, so I wrote one and submitted it. It received a good response, and I subsequently wrote others. Eventually, I started my own blog and feature a new short story every Monday.

How did your writing interest develop into writing books?

Many of my fellow bloggers kept urging me to submit my stories to a publisher. I took their advice, and after increasing the length of some of my stories I included them in a story collection that first appeared on my blog.

What's your favourite genre?

I love cowboys and westerns, so many of my books and stories have a flavour of the west. Having grown up with Roy Rogers and westerns galore, my fantasies take hold when writing about an obstinate, dominant man who works hard and takes no prisoners, especially feisty females.

Do you have a favourite book or author?

I’ve been a reader all of my life. I remember when I was young I would sit at the breakfast table and read the cereal boxes, much to my mother’s displeasure. To pick a favorite book or author would be impossible. They are all my favorites as I’m reading, but once they are finished they move to the back of the line and are lost in the recesses of my mind. Of course, the classics always remain in the forefront, but in my every day reading, most of the time I couldn’t even tell you the title. When I finish one a book, I just go to the next one of my reading lists.

Do you think you will ever write a book that doesn’t contain spanking?

I may write one, but I don’t think I would ever sell one. I consider myself more of a story teller than a writer, and I’m not sure anyone would be interested in purchasing one of my stories without the spanking. I have written stories in which spanking was implied and not carried out, but the threat was always there.

How do you go about writing a story?

I have no plan, no outline, nothing. I sit down at the keyboard, and my fingers start writing. I am a moment to moment writer in that I can write many stories and words quickly and then not do it again for days. A friend of mine recently told me she was fascinated at the many different characters and story lines I am able to produce. There is no rhyme nor reason to my writing pattern.

Do you have other hobbies?

I paint, and I do it in the same way as I write. I may paint two or three pictures and then not pick up a brush again for weeks or months. At one time, I went years.

Have you told your family and friends about your books?

I’ve told a couple of my friends, who have told a couple of their friends, and I’ve mentioned it to some of my family. When I told my brother, his response was to ask if I make any money at it. He didn't ask any other questions. My sister did ask what kind of stories I wrote; I told her romantic stories with a kink. Her response was “Ohh” and it has not come up again. I can’t ever see me telling our daughter and grand-kids, but never say never.

Do you have any works in progress?

There is a story that has recently been submitted to my publisher, LSF Publications, and I’m waiting on a response.

I am also working on a story about a middle-aged couple and their long-standing relationship, and then, and then...


Here's the blurb from Leigh's latest release, At the End of the Rainbow.

After a gruelling 18-month work schedule in support of a political campaign in Washington DC, 33 year-old Melody decides to spend some time with her sister's family at their ranch in Montana. She is given an especially warm welcome by her sister Penny, who loses no time in making a list of the local eligible bachelors … a wasted effort, because on her fourth day at the ranch, Melody meets a tall, handsome cowboy called Kendall (Ken) and they soon begin seeing each other.

Not everything goes entirely smoothly though, and it's not long before Ken, who believes in traditional family values, has cause to take the sassy Melody over his knee for a good old fashioned spanking. At first Melody is reluctant to commit to the relationship but it isn't long before she falls head over heels in love with cowboy Ken. She soon discovers that their post-spanking lovemaking more than makes up for a sore bottom!

The relationship flourishes and the couple get engaged. But when Melody returns home to Washington to let go of her apartment and sort out her possessions, she is contacted by Senator Brewster who makes her an attractive job offer that is hard to resist... It's time for Melody to make an important decision. Will she find love and happiness at the end of the rainbow...?


Well done, Leigh. Pantser or plotter? From what you have shared with us we can see you write by the seat of your pants. Long may it continue!

At the End of the Rainbow is Available from Amazon & LSF Publications. Click here for further info.