New on Blushing Books’ Spanking Romance site is Cry Assassin, a contemporary romance.

Kirk ‘Ender’ Brentwood is a hard man bound for a short life and an eternity in hell until the fates cross his path with that of Evelyn Day, the innocent young daughter of a merchant run afoul of the Russian Mob. Spirited, idealistic and beautiful, Evelyn is everything that Kirk is not.

When her father seeks to trade his daughter for a sizable debt, Kirk’s decision to protect Evelyn means that he stands to lose everything. If that weren’t bad enough, his attempts to keep her safe aren’t helped by the headstrong antics that inevitably lead her into danger. He’s going to have to find a way to make her obey him before she gets them both killed. Fortunately he has a few tricks up his sleeve – and over his lap.

Excerpt:

Kirk strode down the sidewalk, a predator amongst the people who streamed by him lost in their own existences. To most he was a man unseen, perhaps noticed for a moment, appraised favorably for his broad shoulders and long legs, and then forgotten just as promptly. His footsteps fell with a thousand other footsteps on the busy city streets as he strode towards his destination. A slight breeze caught the tip of his silk tie, but left the close-cropped, thick, black hair on his head untouched. His face was pleasant, but not model handsome. It was the sort of face that always seemed familiar. If shown a picture of him, most people would say that they’d seen him recently, perhaps in a hardware store shopping for nails, perhaps assisting customers at the self-checkout in a supermarket. If one questioned the general public, he was everywhere. He was a taxi driver, a bank manager, that guy who’d taken their parking space the other day. He was their kid’s swim coach, their ex-wife’s new boyfriend. In truth, he was none of these things. He was no-one to anyone and that was just the way he liked it.

Read the first chapter free…

This is my new series running on Bethany’s Woodshed.

MILITARY DISCIPLINE by Loki Renard

Captain Savage is a man with a problem. A Bulgarian terrorist cell has a nuclear missile in their possession and it’s up to his unit to retrieve it, but the encryption on the missile’s defense system can only be broken by someone in the room with the missile, someone with a mind like a machine.

It looks like an impossible task, until the discovery of a little known mathematical genius with just the skills needed gives Savage hope. With any luck, Zora Matthews will be able to help Savage’s team secure the missile without initiating a launch sequence that would devastate the developed world.

It’s a difficult, dangerous mission and things become even more complicated when Zora turns out to be anything but your typical nerd. She’s used to a life of hard partying and even harder rebellion, and she doesn’t care for Savage’s no nonsense attitude. Together they just might save the world, but he’s going to have to subdue her to the useful and the good first.

Excerpt:

It was midday and Zora had not moved from the futon. Both she and her pounding head agreed that it wasn’t worth the hassle. The depressing news had given way to infomercials. Whilst she watched an elderly couple wax poetic about the joys of shoving whole fruit into a juicer, Zora found herself wondering if there was any point to it all. Had the species really emerged from the primordial sludge only to spend their days looking for another shiny plastic device to clutter up the counter?

Her stomach growled. She was hungry. If she’d had one of those juicer things she could have prepared nutritious, allegedly tasty juice in just thirty seconds. As it was, she had to settle for toaster tarts. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, she shuffled back to the kitchen. Much to her pleasure, she found that she managed to get the tarts out of their plastic wrapping and into the toaster in under twenty seconds. That was a saving of ten seconds over potato corn juice and a triumph for convenience food.

Whilst her tarts toasted, Zora watched the toaster carefully. It was old and not very good at toasting anymore. It also had rather disturbing habit of ejecting its contents at inopportune times with a loud clanging of springs that had threatened to give her a coronary on more than one occasion.

She was keyed up for the inevitable ejection when a loud banging at the door made her shriek with fear. After realizing that she was not under toaster attack, she tossed the blanket from her shoulders and tip-toed to the door. She was ever so slightly behind on rent, which was terrible form for an accountant, but drinks didn’t buy themselves. Carefully, she peered out of the peep hole and was relieved when she saw that it was not her landlord. Her landlord was short and barrel shaped and perpetually wore short sleeved shirts that showed his hairy forearms like trophies. There were two men outside her door and neither of them matched that description. One was so tall that she could only see his shoulder, the other was a fresh faced young man in a neatly pressed olive green uniform. (more…)

The first Orphan Ivy novella, was pretty popular so I got to writing the sequel. In Book Two, Ivy and Jon have moved into the family home, but Ivy’s increasing rebellion as she comes into her powers sees her not only clashing with Jon, but with the dangerous vampire Blaze.

Or, as the blurb says: In the sequel to Orphan Ivy, an increasingly spoiled and petulant Ivy pushes every boundary she lays eyes on, attracting the punitive attentions of the clan at large. As Jon struggles to deal with her ongoing destructive rebellion Ivy must learn to behave herself before she destroys that which is most precious of all, her relationship with the only man she’s ever loved.

Excerpt:

In a grand chateau, a long established balance of power was being overturned by the regulated movement of small pieces of plastic. A small plastic horse dangled above a black tower, then descended upon it. Mercilessly knocked over sideways, the tower rolled across the board uselessly before being snatched up gleefully by slim fingers.

“White Knight to Black Rook. Checkmate.” A smirk and triumphant toss of the head accompanied Ivy’s announcement. Looking at her, it would have been hard to imagine that she was once an abandoned fledgling left to fend for herself. In the months since she’d been scooped up off the streets, her appearance had changed a great deal. She had once been a slim, pale little wretch, now she was a slightly more full figured young woman with clear skin and dark mischievous eyes. In spite of her newest chosen past time, she did not look like a typical chess player. She wore a tight t-shirt over a striped thermal top and a dark denim skirt that brushed the top of her knees. Her hair, once dull and frizzy, had been styled to sit close around her head and colored with streaks of blue against a silky black backdrop. A few strands of her longer fringe framed her face, giving her a more impish appearance than ever.

Blaze made a snort of irritation, sat forward with his forearms resting on his knees and brushed a few strands of his long blonde hair out of his eyes. Unlike Ivy, he had not changed in the slightest. He was still the same tall, imposing vampire he had always been. As usual he was overdressed for the occasion in a dark tailored suit. He hadn’t even so much as removed the jacket that gave him the perpetual appearance of formality. “Ridiculous,” he insisted, scanning the board for an open move.

Sitting back and folding her arms across her chest with the utmost satisfaction, Ivy grinned. “Let me know when you’ve submitted to your inevitable defeat.”

The ancient vampire’s head snapped up suddenly at the mention of the word ‘submit’. She’d chosen it purposefully to needle him. Blaze was of the old school, he believed in hierarchy and order. He believed that he was owed both respect and obedience and he had no qualms about ensuring he received both. Ivy, on the other hand, was not of the old school. She probably wouldn’t have known the old school if it had walked up to her and boxed her ears. “Yet again, you try my patience, fledgling,” Blaze snapped, his tone becoming crisp and curt as it always did when he felt the need to demonstrate his relative seniority.

Too wrapped up in her victory to be concerned, Ivy’s smile grew all the wider. “Yet again you loose at a game you’ve had hundreds of years to master. How terribly embarrassing for you.”

With the utmost dignity, Blaze rose from the board, making a gesture that would have served to wrap a cape around his body with an impressive swirl, had he been wearing one. There was no cape however so the movement translated into a dramatic swatting motion. “You edge ever closer,” he threatened her direly.

“Yeah? Well you edge ever loser,” Ivy replied pertly, not dissuaded by the fact that her sentence made no sense at all.

Read a free chapter…

A new novella from Loki Renard (otherwise known as me) is now available on Spanking Romance!

When frustrated scholar Katherine Weaver takes a walk in the countryside and happens upon what she thinks is a friendly gathering of gypsies, she gets a great deal more than she bargained for. Notorious outlaw Idric takes an instant fancy to the naive young woman who firmly believes that all problems can be solved with logic and seems utterly unaware of anything below her neckline – or the effect it has on the opposite sex. Katherine is a young woman who desperately needs to be taken in hand before she hurts herself, and he’s just the man to do it.

Excerpt:

After what seemed like a lifetime, the crowd parted and a tall man stepped into the circle with me. His dark curls and sinful thin lips spoke to a cold, keen temperament. Short, thick hair cropped into a widow’s peak sitting low on his head, brown eyes and light stubble around his chin contributed to the appearance of dashing demonry. For a moment I did not know whether I looked at a man or a devil incarnate on the green. I shuddered instinctively as he drew closer. The scars on his face and arms showed that he was no stranger to violence and the glint in his eye told me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did not fear any man.

“What are you doing here?” He addressed me with a surprisingly well spoken demeanor. He was definitely of the Idrii, but the inflection he used when he spoke hinted at some level of formal education. I was not particularly relieved by that discovery, if he had been taken and forced into the schooling system and later returned to his tribe it was safe to say that he did not look upon scholars like myself with any fondness.

“I, er,” I stammered. How to explain the curiosity that had driven me here? How to explain that I was not a threat? How to stay in one piece? “I was, er, well, taking a walk because of my thesis and…” I waved my arms in a manner I hoped would convey my general confusion.

His cheeks dimpled as I looked for an answer, as if he had already anticipated my inability to reply. He would be used to stammering and stuttering, I imagined. I noticed, to my extreme discomfort, that the crowd had not only grown considerably, but also edged forward so that they might not miss a moment of the exchange. When Idric moved, these people paid attention. When he spoke, they hung on his every word.

“Does anybody know who this is?” He raised his voice and looked around as if he half expected some male to step out from the throng and claim me. My studies had informed me that women had no autonomy amidst the Idrii. They were owned, attached to a male from birth. First father, then husband. When nobody replied, he looked back towards me. “Who did you come with?”

Read the first chapter, free!

In this Blushing Books blog post, Carolyn Faulkner and I weigh in with our respective opinions on the allure of the undead.

I was in the checkout line at a Maryland Wal-mart when I saw my first Twilight tattoo. I recognized the inverted red-and-white tulip from the cover of New Moon. My daughter, who was twelve at the time, was reading the books along with 90 percent of other American tweens, so seeing a Twilight tattoo didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was that this particular tattoo was on the hefty calf of a woman at least ten years my senior.

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My latest spanking romance novella is now available on Spanking Romance. It’s called ‘Ace of Brats’ and it’s a modern tale of a young lady who desperately wants and needs a damn good spanking.

Ace is new to the kink scene, but already she’s made quite a reputation for herself. Unlike other submissives who’ll do anything to please tops, Ace is argumentative, obstreperous and an all round pain in the ass. At the rate she spurns tops, hell will freeze over before she gets the spanking she’s secretly been craving for years.

When she meets Blake, a top who sees right through her ‘out of control’ act, Ace is forced to swallow her pride and learn that there’s more to getting the spanking she needs than simply aspiring to be the worst brat that ever lived.

Read a free sample…