Spanked!…today’s the last chance to enter to win it

Erotic romance author Tonya Kinzer interviewed me on her blog this week. Readers who drop by and post a comment will be entered to win a copy of Spanked! the erotic romance/domestic discipline anthology containing two of my stories.

For a sneak peak at Spanked!, Here’s a excerpt:

Secret Desires by Cara Bristol

Morgan crept into the house, closing the front door quietly. A strange clinking sound and a rumble of male voices emanated from the rear of the house. She finger-combed her hair to fluff it, then tugged at the neckline of her tank top, stopping short of exposing her nipples. Taking a deep breath, she followed the noise and tiptoed to the sunroom.

A HAPPY BIRTHDAY MORGAN banner stretched across the wall of the room decorated with colorful helium-filled balloons and streamers. Plates of half-eaten food and used clear plastic cups littered card tables covered with bright, cheery cloths. Amid the birthday detritus, Jack and three men hunched over a beer-bottle laden folding table beneath a haze of cigar smoke. They clutched playing cards and toyed with stacked poker chips.

She stood hands on her hips, her mouth agape. This was her party? Why was Jack playing poker? Why were they smoking cigars in the house? Where was Savannah? Everyone else?

Jack didn’t even glance at her. He puffed on his cigar and blew out stream of smoke. “When you were fifteen minutes late, I apologized to your friends.” He organized the cards in his hand. “When you were thirty minutes late, the party started without you.” He discarded a card and signaled the dealer for a replacement.

“When the guest of honor still hadn’t arrived after two hours, everyone gave up and went home. The guys and I decided to play poker so the evening wouldn’t be a total waste.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I didn’t know you had a party planned.”

“You knew I had something planned.” He set his cigar in the ashtray. “Do you remember our discussion about consequences?”

He’d threatened to paddle her. She hadn’t taken it seriously. And still didn’t. But she was glad the guys were here as a buffer. Otherwise there would probably be a big argument and her birthday would be ruined.

She glanced at Jack’s three friends. Arnie, a balding, paunchy middle-aged guy, lived next door. Dean was a veterinarian like Jack. He was in his mid 40s, and newly divorced. Both men were quiet and kind of boring, but they were always pleasant and cordial to her.

Then there was Matt. He and Jack had been buddies since high school. An undercover cop, he cultivated a perpetual three-day growth of stubble and an air of insolence. He’d never said anything impolite, but something about him put her on edge. While Arnie and Dean were studying their cards as if gleaning the secrets to the universe, Matt appeared to relish the tension, his smirk more pronounced than usual. Jack tossed several chips into the center of the table.

Arnie and Dean folded. “Too rich for me,” Dean said.

Matt matched Jack’s chips. “Call it.”

“Full house.” Jack flipped over three aces and two tens.

“Shit,” Matt slapped his cards down. “Pair of kings.”

Jack scooped up his winnings and collected the scattered cards. He shuffled the deck, then fanned it out. “Pick one, Morgan.”

She eyed him suspiciously. Cautiously, she extracted a card and handed it to him without looking at it.

He set it face down on the table and tapped it with his finger. “This is the number of spanks you’ll receive for each hour you were late.”

Morgan’s breath caught in her throat. Her knees went weak, her stomach clenched and her traitorous, newly waxed pussy let down a gush of moisture. She shouldn’t be turned on by his commanding tone, by the thought of submitting to his authority, by imagining how it would feel to be spanked. Her breathing quickened.

No! She forced aside the erotic thoughts. There would be no spanking. He’d never go through with it. And besides, she wouldn’t allow it. She had to show him he couldn’t order her around. But what if…

Jack flipped over the card. “Oh, Sweetheart, that’s not good.” He shook his head in mock sympathy. “Ace of hearts. Eleven.”


Don’t forget to join me here tomorrow when I interview Francesca Hawley who has a new BDSM erotic romance, Controlling Interest.

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