Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Stepbrother Bangin' Has Gone Mainstream

I'm always fascinated by what trends in mainstream and erotica. Two years ago motorcycle erotic romance with gruff, alpha anti-heroes was booming and kind of gave way to dark erotic romance and fiction. 

Right now, the trend that is just blowing my mind--and giving me a giggle--is mainstream, new adult, 'taboo', step-brother erotic romance. Just in a little search I tripped over no less than forty-seven step-brother, new adult, romances that have come out in the past year.

And that was just from a little search.

It's like George R. R. Martin waved his magic wand and practically over night everyone was thinking about banging their brother. And since it's not the 1970's, every woman from eighteen to forty-five said, "You know who I really want to fantasy bang? My step-bro."

At first I was mystified by this. I mean, step-brother banging? Really?

Then I got to thinking about it. In my early twenties, my best friend's dad got remarried. She was devastated. Do you know who else was pissed by the parental union? Her brand new step-brother. A 6'4'' hunky nubile, navy man who was more than happy to drag her off during the reception to his hotel room for some naked, angsty, hot n' sweaty sheet time.

They christened their new sibling union all night long.

Sometime between waking up next to her new bro and the wedding brunch, my gal-pal's guilt set in, along with the realization her one-night-stand was most likely going to be at Thanksgiving. Every year. For the length of their parent's marriage. That's a book in itself.

Personally, I thought it was the hottest thing ever, and I was totally jealous I didn't have a hot step-bro to bang. Alas, my parents have been happily married for nearly forty years, and now I've been married for over ten years myself. You'd think the dream would be dead. Thanks to a whole truck load of romance writers the dream is back alive, and I've been on an odyssey of fictional step-brother banging. 

How could I not read these things? There is just so many of them selling like gang busters. I read through the reviews, picked a few and hunkered down to read.

Let us begin our journey through sibling shagging with Lucie's Two Step-Brothers by Jenika Snow. This title is actually the founding father of step-brother banging. It was first released years ago, is blessedly in third person, and is kindle melting hot. Jenika Snow writes the type of sex that will have you wondering if you've stocked up enough batteries for your vibrator. Seriously. AMAZON

The next book was Step Brother Untouchable by Colleen Maters. This was a sweet sexy, NA read that put me in mind of books like, The Hazards of Skinny Dipping. Ms. Masters has a slew of step-brother books, but sadly the sibling banging taboo is not played up one iota. With that being said, they are still enjoyable. AMAZON

Step Alien by Sue Mercury, the one and only sci-fi step book. How could I not read it?! It's a short read but had everything I love from a sci-fi rom, from great world building to a sexy hot alien that needs to mate soon. Sue Mercury's writing style actually put me in mind of C. L. Scholey and is a can't miss author for sci-fi romance fans. And those sci-fi fans who'd like to throat punch 1st person POV, no need to worry. It's written in third. I'm looking forward to more from this author. AMAZON

But not all step-brother books have Step-Brother titles. Some are ambiguously named and I'm lucky to have found them..

My Taboo Body Guard by Sasha Marcos is short, pretty hot, and has a lot of spanking threats, along with one sexy spanking that I appreciated. It was brief but well written, and as a fan of spanking, I'm always grateful of a good spanking scene. One of my pet peeves is when romance or erotic authors threaten to spank at multiple points through a story, but no spanking happens. That kind of teasing is just cruel and pointless. AMAZON

His Mad Passion, The Death Lords Club by Ella Goode. This one combined the angsty, hard edge biker club books with step-brother banging. Fans of anti-hero motorcycle books, with tough as nails heroines, and gruesome storylines will enjoy this series. AMAZON

Their Stepsister by Alexa Riley. If I were to recommend only one step book, it would be this one. Another author recommended this book to me and I just want to hug them. This book celebrates the bejesus out of the sibling banging taboo and has lines like;

All right, let's get your ass in bed so we can talk about how this is going to go down. After that you're going to take care of my cock like a good little girl, then big brother will take care of you again.

I'm not going to lie. I came a little when I read that line. Then again when I wrote it up for this post. This book is HOT.
Not only is the dirty talk in this menage book killer, it features some prime pussy slapping. Anyone who's read my book Taming Kat knows I heart my heroines getting pussy slapped to orgasm. Who doesn't? That's the epitome of a good time. AMAZON

While I was reading these books I realized a few things:

1. I really enjoy a good new adult romance now and again. There, I've said it.

2. All it takes is a borderline taboo subject and some vigorous vaginal intercourse to determine a romance 'erotic'. Seriously, the majority of these are romances!!!

3. Is there a rule all NA romances have to be in 1st person POV?

4. Everyone has banged their step-brother, or wished they had a step-brother hot enough to bang. That is what I'm getting from this.

5. Okay, I'm really getting burnt out on 1st person POV. How is it people aren't getting sick and tired of reading all these stories in 1st person? I never want to read another 1st person again. I've got 1st person hang over!! 

I had planned on reading even more step books--I read a ton of them, these being the only ones I'm recommending--but I hit my threshold for reading 1st person POV, not to mention New Adult. I just couldn't keep going, but here are the titles sitting on my kindle (Prince Humperdinck) that I felt stood out in the crowd.

 Stepbrother Master by Ava Jackson is a mild, romantic BDSM. AMAZON 

Stepbrother Bad Boy by Veronica Dave, I got into the sample. Once I can stomach 1st person and New Adult again, this will be one of the first I read. AMAZON
Stepbrother Alpha's Baby by Lauren Landish has an outlandish title and is actually ranked #164 in Kindle Store at the time of me writing this, but it's also free. AMAZON

Tool: A Stepbrother Romance by Sabrina Paige at 358 pages is the longest step book. It's also ranked #12 paid in kindle store. Mother f$%*ing #12.

For those of you without a clue what Amazon Kindle rankings means...well, when you're ranked about 5k you're selling 60-70 copies a day. Ranked 10k in store, you're usually selling around 40 copies a day. Some times your ranking doesn't match your sales, but most often it's pretty standard unless you get ranked in a sub-category.

I'm not even going to try to pretend I'm good at math, but we all know it's doing well. Very well. I'm going to be reading this one at some point too, because well..holy sh*%, it's #12. AMAZON

Have a love, or a hate for step books? Feel free to share your recs!

Friday, April 17, 2015

Because You're Mine

Feeling eyes on her, she looked up and realized Mason stood in the wide doorway. He wore the same charged look he'd shot her in the car when he'd said,  I know how you are going to make it up to me.
Earlier it seemed like a distraction, a change of subject. Whether for himself or for her she wasn't sure. She didn't care either way. She loved when he looked at her that way. Like she was the most desirable thing he'd ever seen. Like he had a list of dirty things he wanted to do to her and was thinking about each and every one of them. Maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part.
“I didn't see you standing there,” she said unable to move, trapped in his penetrating gray gaze.
“I told you to make yourself comfortable, Miriam.”
Like Pavlov’s dog knowing it was about to be fed her body flushed, her pulse instantly beating faster. She loved it even more when he added an authoritative bite to his voice. It rumbled through her and awakened each and every nerve ending. She was pretty sure he was aware of it. Used it to his advantage like he was trying to infiltrate all of her defenses until she had none left. She'd work up the angst to resent that if it didn't turn her on so much.
“How would you like me to make myself comfortable, Mr. Coleman? I aim to please you, sir.” Yes, she knew how to play this game and was very willing.
His lips twitched like he was fighting a grin. Not a sweet grin, but the kind a wolf has before devouring a meal.
Arms crossed, he leaned up against the wall, scratching his chin as if in contemplation. The pose should have been casual but she could see his muscles were tense. An enigmatic energy fairly radiated off him. “The shirt, Ms. Westfall. It should probably come off.”
“What if I get cold?”
“The shirt, Miriam,” he said ignoring her question. Playful Mason was gone, replaced by an intense man she didn't quite recognize.
A chill stole through her. Part fear of uncertainty, part arousal. Button by button, Mimi opened her shirt, holding his gaze until the fabric whispered down her arms. Her eyes naturally closed at the sensation of silky material sliding off her body. Goosebumps sprang up in its wake, her nipples beading to hard, aching points of awareness.
“The bra now.”
She unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor and had to fight covering herself from his scrutinizing gaze. She recalled feeling the same standing in the corner of his office. She realized he liked this. Making her feel exposed. A bit intimidated. Vulnerable. The knowledge filled her with arousal, and she felt the power shift.
He may be in command but she was the only store in town that carried what he needed.
“Pants,” he said simply.
She toed off her shoes. Undoing her zipper she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her pants and panties, ready to drag them both down her legs when he said, “Stop.”
Like a marionette, she froze, pants and panties halfway down her thighs. Air kissing her bottom.
“Leave the panties on. Those are mine to take off you.”
A flush swept through her chest at his words. She wasn't sure why that affected her so but it did. With shaky hands she raised her panties back to position before she slid her jeans down her legs and stepped out of them.  
Nipples pebbled, the crotch of her panties damp, covered in goosebumps she stood there as he looked his fill. She tried to relax her hands at her sides and not squirm under his gaze.
Slowly he pushed off the wall. His walk was deceptively casual. His muscles looked tight. Coiled. His stance controlled, like a panther about to pounce on his prey. Her.
He circled her, leaning in behind her like he was breathing her in, but not touching her. A gentle finger skimmed along the peach lace material of her panties.
“These are fancy, Miriam,” he said softly from behind her. She could feel his gaze on her. Could imagine his eyes tracing the same exposed cheeks of her ass his fingers were skimming over.
“Who were you thinking about when you bought these panties?”
She tried to recall when she'd bought them. Her thoughts were already muddled. “I-I wasn't thinking of anyone. I just wanted to feel sexy,” she said honestly if not a bit weakly.
The sudden pulling and tearing of fabric against her skin made her gasp. Mason ripped the waistband of both sides of her lacy thong. Holding a fistful of material in the front and back he pulled up, grinding it against her core until she went up on tiptoes. He relaxed his grip, catching her with the strong band of his arm around her waist when she would have stumbled forward.
“Do I make you feel sexy, Miriam?” At her nod he continued, “I've decided,” he said, his face pressed against her neck. “I want to be the only thing that makes you feel sexy from now on. If a scrap of material makes you feel sexy it's because you bought it thinking of me. You'll only wear panties you bought while thinking about me.”
Her spine stiffened a little. That was the most arrogant, pigheaded dictate she'd ever heard. Yet she knew she'd never buy underwear and not think of him ever again. Dammit.
“Do you need to be reminded who's in charge, Ms.Westfall?” he asked, obviously aware her hackles had been raised at his outrageous demand.
“No,” she said, a bit petulantly.
“Go to the kitchen.” With that he pulled the torn cloth forward. Lace scraped against her beaded clit making her squeak.
Mimi walked on shaky legs to the large kitchen, glancing at Mason over her shoulder, wondering what he had in store for her. He gave nothing away, but his gaze seemed to have taken on a decidedly wolfish gleam.
She stopped once in the kitchen. The tile was cool under her bare feet. The lights were on low, the dark wood cabinets making the room look even darker. Mason crowded her into the wide island in the center of the room. She gasped against the cool feel of granite under her belly as he pressed her forward, reaching around her.
He opened a drawer and rooted around before he seemed to find what he was searching for. Standing behind her he held a flat rubber headed spatula up, seemingly for her inspection. The handle was wooden and the wide head was a sunny yellow.
“Open up.”
“Your mouth. Open it.”
Dutifully she opened her mouth and bit down on the long flat wooden handle of the spatula.
“Up you go,” he said.
She almost dropped the spatula from her mouth when strong hands gripped her waist, lifting her onto the island. She slid her knees under herself on the cold counter top, and he pushed her forward, forcing her to catch herself with her hands.
On all fours, with her ass in the air, she was perched precariously on the island with her lower legs sticking out off the end. She had only a second to wonder what the hell Mason's intentions were before she felt his hot wet mouth on her equally wet sex. Moans were pulled from her throat as he licked, nibbled, and bit at delicate flesh. The scruff of his day's growth of beard scrapped along her delicate inner thighs.
Higher and higher she climbed, as he lapped at her folds, teasing her clit with flicks of his wicked tongue. Never giving her the direct contact she craved. She reached back to hold his face to her pussy, right where she needed him most.
He pulled back, his hand slapping down on her raised ass cheek with stinging force.
She cried out around the spatula in her mouth, her teeth clamping down. If it didn't have her teeth marks forever embedded in it before, it did now.
“Are you in charge?” he asked, his voice coming out in a harsh growl.
When she only whimpered in response he slapped down twice on the other cheek of her ass just as hard, making her squeal out in protest.
“Are you in charge?” he asked. His voice cutting through the air like a drill sergeant.
“Nuh-uh,” she muttered around the spatula, vigorously shaking her head.
“Do you want me to make you come?”
She nodded her head looking back at Mason imploring with her eyes to let her come.
He ran a finger down her thigh. Kissing her rump before giving her a hard bite. The sensation made her eyes roll back on a groan. “Beg,” he said.
She whimpered in frustration.
He chuckled. The sound rumbled through his chest and sounded slightly evil. He reached out and took the spatula from her mouth. “Beg.”
Licking her lips she said, “Please may I come?” Her voice came out shaky and slightly hoarse.
In response to her query he pushed two broad fingers into her slowly, letting her feel the delicious stretch before starting the in and out drag. “You're so hot and wet, sunshine. And tight. So damn tight. Do you know how good you're going to feel stretched over my cock?”
She moaned as her core clenched down on his fingers at his words. A bead of her arousal ran down the back of her thigh.
“Oh, angel, I think you're excited,” he said, his wicked tongue trailing up her thigh, licking away her juices. His fingers pumped inside her faster. The blood roared in her ears. The sound only broken by her own little cries and the wet sounds of her sex. Her body tightened, so close to breaking and going over.
He pulled his fingers free of her. She screamed as her channel clenched on air, not reaching completion. “Please, please, please,” she begged in real desperation. “Please, Mason. May I come? Please make me come?”
“You want me to make you come?” he asked. His casual tone betrayed only by his quick breathing.
“Please. Please.”
“Do you want me to fuck you, Mimi?”
“Yes-yes, please fuck me.”
“Do you want me to fuck you here,” he asked pushing his fingers into her pussy. “Or here?”
his fingers pulled out to press against her sensitive bottom hole. She cried out. Genuine discomfort mixed with pleasure. She wasn't sure if she could take him there so soon, but she knew her answer was important. The air around Mason fairly crackled with intense energy. If she pushed him he would push back and punish her for testing him.
With two fingers in her bottom, his other hand was deceptively gently as it skimmed over her ass and thighs. She felt a barely leashed violence in Mason she'd never felt before. He ran a tongue along her slit, sucking in her clit. The sensation rocked through her body. Just as quickly as his mouth was on her it was gone. She whimpered at the loss.
“Where do you want my cock, Miriam? How do you want me to make you come?”
She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Anywhere you want. Anyway you want,” she said looking him straight in the eye, so he would know she meant it with every fiber of her being. Because she needed to say it. Because he needed to hear it.
“That's right,” he growled. He pulled her down off the counter, only to push her forward to lay along the cool slab. Fist in her hair he asked, “Do you know why? Do you know why I can have you any way I want you?”
    “Because I'm yours,” she said. Her voice breaking at the end as he brought the spatula down on her bottom, hard.
“Because you're mine,” he said, swinging the spatula down again with stinging force. “Count,” he commanded as the spatula lit up her ass again.

 Mimi Mine

Mason Coleman hasn’t been living. He’s been existing day to day. Ever since an accident took his family, he’s thrown himself into proving he deserved to survive. Now, ten years later, he’s built a multimillion dollar franchise, but has nothing to show for his personal life.

He’s ready to feel alive again, and he knows just the woman to help him. Too bad she’s his employee. She also carries secrets that are about to shake everything he though he knew about women.

Being a single mother has not afforded Mimi Westfall many dating opportunities. In fact, she’s pretty sure Mr. Right took a wrong turn somewhere, and she’s destined to live a life devoted to her showerhead. 

When her fantasies about her delectable boss commanding her to her knees and putting her over his desk to spank her naughty bottom start happening for real, she’s not sure if she should thank her lucky stars or run for the hills. 
*Author's Note: Mimi Mine is an erotic romance novel that includes explicit sex, spanking, BDSM elements, anal play, and anal sex. If such material offends you, this book may not be for you.





“Hiring you was the smartest or most foolish thing I've ever done. Every day you came into work wearing your prim little business clothes. These tight long skirts that hide as much as they show off. And these silky button up blouses.” He reached over and flicked the top button of her shirt she was wearing, and she batted his hand away. He just took her hand and kissed her fingers.
She felt the brush of his lips tingle all the way up her arm and rather than pull away she let him go on holding it. It felt too good, too right to pull away.
“There have been hours, upon days, upon weeks I've fantasized about unbuttoning your silky blouses, angel. You were close enough to touch but I had to keep my hands to myself.”
“I never knew. I had no idea that all this time—I mean other than asking me out when I first got hired you never even hinted that you were interested.” She would have noticed, wouldn't she?
Maybe she'd been too wrapped up in weaving daydreams of her own about Mason she hadn't noticed. But that was a lie. She'd felt some kind of pull that rang of sexual chemistry. She'd just thought it had been the wild imaginings of her sex starved mind. Her horny-single-mom-desperation-stench had been at an all time high this past year.

 I very much enjoyed this entire novel from beginning to end.  Aubrey does a great job giving her characters depth and detail while keeping the reader titillated. I absolutely recommend this book! -Bottoms Up Book Reviews

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

The Elusive Word

I don't have a proper writing space. We have a little two and a half bedroom house with more charm than square feet. The half bedroom is tiny, L shaped, and hardly functional. It's used to house our sports gear, my husband's clothes...and me.

My desk sits in the window of that room, right behind a set of golf clubs, a pair of roller blades, and a bike. I essentially write in the window of a storage facility/boys locker room. Ten feet above that window is my French neighbor's office window. He hangs out of it and smokes. His wife doesn't  allow him to smoke in the house, so he does this. Often talking on his phone in heavy accented English or French on and off for most of the day.

My window isn't nearly this romantic
I can hear every word through our old thin windows. It makes me cringe to think exactly what embarrassing things he's heard coming from our house. I try to block that thought out on a regular basis.

I pretend I'm at a cafe in another country as I type away and cars go by, and my neighbor argues in French. I think how his accent sounds very Basque and try to concentrate on my writing.

Mentally, where I write

This works until my dog nudges my chair and starts doing the whinny hop dance he does indicating he needs to pee--or sniff around and bark at neighborhood cats. I get up, walk through the kitchen to the back door to let him out. I leave the door open to avoid having to get up again and hope one of the damn neighbor cats don't stroll in. I then resist the urge to grab a snack as I hasten back to my story.

I sit down, read the last sentence I wrote and write three more before I lose the word I was about to write. What word am I looking for? Effervescent? No. Too happy. But perfect for an orgasm. I add it to my list of words.

I'm always searching for the elusive words. They haunt me, those little words. I have a notebook filled with words that glide over my mind like silk and seduction. Words that tingle along my nerve endings and make my body feel alive in some wonderful or horrible way. And really, just some mundane words I can't seem to remember.

Even with that notebook sitting right next to me, the right phrase sometimes turns to vapor before I can snatch it out of the air. I scan the page coming up short. I do a Google word search, angry at myself for wasting time on a word. I abandon the search to go back to writing, but not before highlighting the inferior word choice and leaving myself an angry note to find the right, bloody word.

I go back to writing. Eventually my butt goes numb from sitting in the office chair so I leave my delusion of a cafe and head for the living room. From here my dog can sit on the couch and bark at every car, biker, and walker who dares pass by. I think about the bottle of Puppy Prozac in the medicine cabinet, the vet gave me. Then I look at the dog, so clueless but happily barking away.
Who am I to take his bark?
I make a mental note to read the Dog Whisperer book--maybe I'm not properly dominating him. I make my voice deep and authoritatively Dom and tell him to go lie down. I ponder lay vs. lie as I say it, not that it matters. I sound more like the Wizard of Oz, but it seems to work, so I start writing again.

Valiantly I try to not check my social media and email. Some days I stay strong. Other days I lose an hour.

My son gets home and the day goes on. I make dinner, help with homework, and realize my house is dirty. Still, the word has not appeared.

After I tuck my son into bed, I sit on the couch, trying to stay awake, playing cross word games on my Kindle wondering why I can't think of the effing word. And of course I worry about everything I wrote that day, because when I'm not writing I worry about what I did write.

That night I sleep until 2am. That's when I'm awakened from my sleep by a word. Fizzle. Mother f*%$ing fizzle. That's the f%$#ing word I was looking for! Such a innocuous, simple word. How the hell could I have lost fizzle?

Blurry eyed I type the word on the notepad on my phone, praying I remember why the hell I left myself a note of 'fizzle' come morning. I set my phone back down and drift, but now I think of a scene. It's of course pivotal to my WIP. I snatch back up my phone and write, knowing it's going to suck when I have to transcribe all I'm writing to the computer. But still I write until it's been an hour and I need to get some sleep.

In the morning, after I've taken my son to school, runs errands, and walked the dog, I check my notes. Fizzle isn't spelled correctly but luckily I remember what it was supposed to be. I go through my evening scribbles and discover half the words have been auto corrected or are just plain gibberish, but I cross my fingers and hope I can figure it all out and find the word that I meant to use.

Words. I'm always looking for the right words.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Ageplay, It's All in the Costuming

Costuming for Ageplay
by Renee Rose 

 Because the hero and heroine of Her Hollywood Daddy are both actors, I play quite a bit with the notion that ageplay is really just theater.  They don’t have a script, but they improvise with a character.  It becomes a source of the conflict in the book, because Joel isn’t sure how much Marissa embraces being his Little and how much is just about acting out a part.

I grew up performing, not as an actor, but as a professional dancer, and I love all things theater.  So of course, costuming in this book was of utmost interest to me. How should I dress my Little? I decided to send them out shopping for some of my favorite ideas:

“Come on, we’re going to a juice bar, and then shopping.”
“For my Little clothes?” she asked, looking eager.
“Yes. Vegas is the perfect place to find every sort of costume under the sun. And I have quite a few I’ve been picturing you in.”
“Is one of them a Catholic school girl?”
His cock thickened as his brain produced an image of her bent over his desk with her panties down. “Certainly. Along with Little Bo Peep, Alice in Wonderland, and footie pajamas with a drop bottom in case I need to spank you before bed.”

“What should I wear to go shopping?”
“Mmm. I can’t really get enough of your short shorts. I’d like to see them with some tube socks and rollerskates and a halter top.”
“And pigtails?”
“Of course.”
She hopped out of the bed, then stopped. “Daddy, may I please take a shower now?”
He smiled. “No. Daddy’s going to give his little girl a bath this morning. I need to inspect your little body.” He swung his legs off the bed and stopped to pick her up, hoisting her to his hip. She made it easy for him, knowing just when to jump and wrapping her legs around his waist to support her weight. He carried her into the bathroom and started the water running. “Hop in, little girl,” he said, patting her bottom.
She stepped in the tub, lowering herself to sit and then lie back. She’d lost the seductiveness she’d shown in their first few encounters. Now it seemed she’d dropped fully into her Little self. She looked up at him with a giddy pleasure, as if nothing pleased her more than splashing in the bath. “Are you coming in, Daddy?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.
“No. Daddy’s going to wash and inspect his baby girl.” He picked up a washcloth and soaked it. He brought it to her neck, dragging it over the slope of her shoulder and down her arm, massaging each finger as he reached her hand. He repeated the action on the other side, then rubbed the terry cloth over her nipples.
She giggled and moved away as if he’d tickled her. “Daddy,” she protested.
He made his face into a frown. “Rissa,” he said in a warning tone. “A spanking on a wet bottom would not be a nice way to start the day, and then I’d have to give you that enema, too.”
She immediately went still, her large eyes blinking and obedient. “Okay. Sorry, Daddy.”
“That’s right. When Daddy wants to touch his baby girl, she must give herself without complaint.”
            “Okay, Daddy,” she said, looking shy.
He rolled the pebbled tip of one nipple between his finger and thumb as he rubbed the other with the washcloth. When she jerked, he tightened his grip on her nipple, pinching it and pulling it.
She gasped and leaned forward to follow the movement, her expression alarmed.
He smiled. “That’s a good girl.” He released her nipple and she fell back, panting. He resumed with the washcloth, stroking every inch of her.

Her Hollywood Daddy

Hollywood starlet Marissa Sparks’ career teeters on the brink of implosion. Her mansion is nearly under foreclosure, her rockstar boyfriend left her for a supermodel, and her habits of partying all night, drinking to excess and taking prescription drugs get her fired from her current picture. Her only hope is to convince Joel Sutherland, her co-star and one of the movie’s producers to give her another chance.

Joel knows Marissa has talent and a sweet, submissive nature, but believes her mother and sister are a terrible influence. All she needs is a strict daddy to take her in hand and give her some firm over-the-knee discipline and loving guidance. When she shows up at his door begging for his help, he agrees to advocate for her return to the movie on one condition: she must move in with him and live as his Little until filming is complete.

Marissa submits to Joel’s dominance and seems to thrive under his structure and protection, but he isn’t sure if it’s all a ploy to stay in the movie. She is, after all, a talented actress and could be faking everything. At the end of filming, she might just pick up and walk out his front door, taking his heart with her.

Publisher's Note:  This book contains elements of ageplay, including spanking and erotic sex scenes.

Renee Rose / Darling Adams is a naughty author and kinkster who loves writing about hot alpha males, Dominance/submission and power exchanges. Named Eroticon USA's Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, her books are all centered around kink.

She can be found: