Behind the Locked Door- Viola's Heart Strings

I'm happy to have Jaye Peaches visiting me again. She's got a fabulous new book that's just come out. This excerpt she's sharing had me gasping in delight. And I have to say, this cover is just beautiful!  

Thank you, Aubrey, for having me visit. I’ve brought along a short excerpt from my latest book, Viola’s Heart Strings, a Victorian spanking romance. Viola has recently married baronet Sir Anton and now lives in a large mansion. Some of the rooms are locked and she is desperate to know what lies inside. Stealing her husband’s keys, she is on a mission to find out.

The bunch contained a dozen keys of many dimensions and styles. It took Viola several attempts to find the right one for the hole. Her shaking hands didn’t help her and when the door opened, she was relieved it didn’t emit a ghostly creak.

Before her a long corridor. In the dim light cast from the bedchamber’s oil lamp, she could make out a window at the far end of the corridor. Shuttered, like all of the rooms facing out on this side of the house, there was no daylight. Lighting a candle, she slowly walked down the corridor until she reached the shutter. They were bolted shut. She slid back the rusty bolt and opened the shutters to let a modicum of hazy sunlight into the corridor.

She viewed the white washed walls and the oak wooden floorboards; nothing else adorned the corridor except candlestick holders. Leading off the corridor were five white doors. Reaching for the handle, she opened the first door to her left and as she expected it led into a stairwell. The tower rose above her head and the narrow winding staircase ascended to the observation point. Downstairs would be the back staircase to the lower floors. The stairwell was dark and damp with a musty smelling draught.

Shutting the door, Viola turned and tried the door to her left. The candle fluttered slightly and she held the candlestick holder tightly with her fingers. Turning the doorknob, the catch clicked and the door moved. Pushing gently, she opened it and held up her light.

Viola gasped. She hadn’t expected to see what she did: a wooden post, and attached to the upper portion, leather cuffs for ensnaring wrists. About the room there were several mirrors on the walls. Was this a whipping post? She remembered one night, clinging to the bedpost while Anton had taken her from behind. Her raucous cries as she came had driven him to a rapid completion. Far from hating the position, she yearned for him to repeat the act.

Viola held the flickering candle up and came face to face with herself in a mirror—her skin had paled. She knew exactly who had been tied to the post in the past—Margot.

Blurb

After a chance meeting, young Viola Pritchard finds herself married to the enigmatic Sir Anton Valise. The innocent Viola falls fast for her new husband. She loves him and only wishes to please him and be the wife he wishes her to be. She's surprised to find that she craves Anton's passionate and dominant lovemaking, and even lusts for him to take her in more erotic ways.

Determined not to repeat mistakes from his past, Anton tries to keep Viola at a distance. Her sweet submission and unflagging loyalty prove to be his weakness. The baronet introduces rules to ensure his new wife will remain obedient, not trusting that her intentions could be so pure. 

When Viola discovers a series of secret rooms and a diary left behind by Anton's late wife, she unearths a chilling mystery. With tension between the couple rising, Anton and Viola's relationship reaches a crisis point. Can Viola crack the armor around her baronet's safely guarded heart? 

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Author Links

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http://jayepeaches.wordpress.com/

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Double Punishments-Spanking Sci-fi

 I'm thrilled to have Casey Mckay over today sharing a bit from her first ever sci-fi!!

Thanks for having me over Aubrey! I'm excited to talk about my new release His Rebellious Queen. It's the first time I delved into the sci-fi genre—I was a little nervous at first, but it turned out to be really fun to write!

One thing that remained the same is His Rebellious Queen is still a spanking romance, so I had the same dilemma I face when writing any spanking romance: how do you write a defiant woman, but still make her okay with submitting to her alpha male?

It's always a tricky situation. You don't want your hero to seem to harsh, and while you want your heroine to be the perfect combination of sassy and independent, you don't want her to be a bitch either.

In this scene, Astor is ready to punish his wife for her attitude and defiance. He has an advantage that he can read her feelings (if only every man could), so while Lyra's mouth is saying one thing, her feelings are definitely saying another.

"That is not how it happened and you know it!" she shouted at him.

He shot to his feet, “You will not shout at me, nor anyone else. Is that clear?” he asked, towering over her slight form.

She lifted her chin, jutting it out in that defiant way and gave him a slight nod.

“That is not an answer.”

“Yes,” she hissed at him.

Grabbing her upper arm he propelled her forward and pushed her to bend over his desk, he landed two hard smacks to her covered bottom before he even knew what he was doing.

"I said yes!" she protested as he pressed her into the desk and hitched up the back of her skirts. "Astor, please!"

He held her skirts bunched up in his fist in the small of her back. His hand smoothed over her creamy flesh which peeked out from behind her lace underthings. Feeling her fear gave him pause, he did not want her to be afraid of him, but something else mixed into her trepidation. Guilt? Remorse? Something akin to that. Perhaps she wanted this. She put up a fight to stop him, but some part of her brain was firing off different signals.

He pulled her to stand and instantly felt her fear subside. Leading her to a corner of his study he pressed her nose into the juncture of the walls, then guided her hands back to hold her bunched up skirts. "Hold these, do not let them drop," he ordered. She glanced at him, her eyes going wide, but obeyed his command. He yanked the black lace covering her bottom down to her knees and she gasped. "Stand here and think about why you need me to spank you."

"I don't," she retorted, but it lacked conviction.

"Then convince me that I don't," he said. "But be careful, if you don't win your argument I will double the punishment I already have in mind." She turned to glare at him as he walked back to his chair. He whirled his finger in the air, signaling for her to turn around. "Face the wall, no moving until I say." Her jaw tightened as she turned her head back to the corner.

His Rebellious Queen blurb

Lyra didn't expect her arranged marriage to be easy. But she also didn't think it was going to be so hard. Moving to a distant planet to become queen was one thing. Learning to take orders from her Alpha, warrior husband was quite another.

Astor knew from the moment he was appointed king there would be no other woman for him. Fulfilling a promise from his past to protect and keep her safe, he claims Lyra as his wife and queen. When she routinely skirts the rules and defies his orders, he realizes he will need to take his feisty wife in hand in the way the Cassians have done for centuries. 

But when a plot for revolution follows the new queen and the secrets they're both keeping become exposed, will Astor be able to convince his rebellious queen that they are on the same side or will Lyra's trust come too little too late?

His Rebellious Queen is a sci-fi romance about love, trust, and starting over.

Buy links:

AMAZON US

AMAZON UK

I Made A Sex Tape

Yes, you read that correctly. I made a sex tape. Not by myself. My husband was involved. And I know you're not supposed to make sex tapes. I've seen the movies. I know making a sex tape leads to said tape being switched out with the video your kid made for his science fair project. I know that.

Yet, I still made a sex tape.

I'd been viewing those clips on tumblr--those fantastic porn gifs that are just hot action shots set on repeat-- and it got me thinking; what does my stuff look like in action? What do I look like in action? Sure, this is a question just begging for trouble. This is definitely an experiment that can backfire in a grunting, jiggling, sweaty mess. That was actually what I had prepared myself for.

That's right, I was prepared to be horrified by what I saw on that tape.

As it turns out, when I finally viewed my husband and I's business, in all its functioning glory... I was impressed. And pretty turned on.

Watching the video made me more secure with my body and my vagina than I have ever been in my life. I've always been pretty self conscious about my vagina and never felt it measured up to other women's superior vaginas.

I know that's totally stupid thing to be hung up on. Vaginas are like finger prints. No two vaginas are exactly the same. And my husband, well, let's just say he's a big fan of the thing just the way it is. There's even a whole body positive movement to help women be more secure about their vaginas. Large Labia Project

But I still wasn't happy with mine.

Some women are self conscious about their ass, or tits, or having wide arms. I felt weird about my vagina. Even though a very limited number of people see it on any kind of regular basis, it was my big hangup.

When we hit play on the video I was actually cringing just at the idea of seeing my vag. Then...well...it looked amazing.

I'm not sure if my husband's just really good with the camera or my junk is especially photogenic. Or both.

My goods looked great.

The sex while making the tape wasn't especially wild. I think we were both a little self conscious. There was definitely a hotness factor in recording and knowing we were being recorded, but it wasn't the best sex ever.

What came after we watched the video was however the best sex ever. There was something about it that revved our engines and made us lose all inhibitions in some no-holds-barred-dirty-talking-ass-slapping-tie-me-up-hold-me-down-take-me-against-the-wall-break-the-headboard kind of loving.

After all that we deleted the video. Or at least I did. I hope to hell my husband didn't forward himself a copy that's going to end up being a mass company email.

Fingers crossed.

Luckily, no 'face shots' was my number one ground rule for making the video. So at least no one will know, know, it's me. Right?

Anytime you make a sex tape you're rolling the dice, but now I get the appeal. For me it was worth it. And if the video somehow gets viewed by the PTA instead of the "Magic Moments" video of our kids, at least I know we look good in action.

And no, I'm not sharing my video.

I know. But if you're that hard up to see some hot action you can always check out some tumblr porn. Just be careful. You may find yourself inspired to do something rash, or impractical, like film yourself having sex.

An Indelicate Subject

My bestie recently texted me from the bathroom of her new boyfriend's place. At Neil's...terrified he'll hear me fart in bathroom...I can't make enough distracting noise!

There are two types of women in the world; those who get fart jokes, and those who don't.

It seems like the girls who find the humor in fart jokes are so much more secure with tooting in front of new boyfriends, new girlfriends...anyone really. They're like the walking, talking, Dove positive body image of body functions.

They're passing gas right now!

Their parents read them "Everybody Poops" and they took notes.

Personally, I fall into the camp that just do not get it. And one would think potty humor would be right up my ally. I had the upbringing that should have led to embracing flatulence as a fact of life. I grew up with older brothers. To this day they adore bathroom humor. Everyone at my house went to the bathroom with the door open, including me.

Shouldn't that have led to me being open about tooting?

Don't get me wrong, there are some crass things I love. Beer? Um, hell yeah. Swearing? Let's paint a rainbow of vulgarity. Sex talk? The dirtier the better. Air naturally evacuating your body? Unfortunate occurrence that should be avoided at all costs.

I go out of my way not to break wind. I'd been with my husband for over three years before I had a full sound fart in front of him. It was horrifying. In fact I was never flatulent in front of any guy I dated. Ever. I don't even say the word 'fart' out loud. It's the 'F' word at my house. So when my gf texted me this I felt her pain. I'd been in that predicament before. This is a silent struggle about a not-so-silent stinky matter.

Flatulence and your dating life.

I'm sure guys on some level are just as horrified to poot in front of a new female they're trying to woo. Or a male for that matter. I'm not sure of the ins and outs of male/male dating rituals as pertains to flatulence. For women it's something I believe most of us vigilantly try to avoid. From a young age those of us who fear the flatulence begin a regimen of asshole clenching exercises that are akin to Asian feet binding.

Over the years we unwittingly train our bodies to hold our farts for days. Every little girl you see with her back ramrod straight, sitting at her desk with a troubled look. She's not worried about the test or her homework for tomorrow. She's concerned her silent noxious ass vapors--that are swirling around her, in an invisible haze--are going to become apparent to the twenty other students in her class. That little girl is on the road to a lifetime of asshole clenching.

Should we tell that little girl to just let it rip and and own it? I don't know. My preference would be for no one to let it rip. For no one to own it. When I'm on a plane or elevator and the stank of human gas is upon me, I wrinkle my nose with everyone else, and I pretend that it did not happen. I do not laugh. I do not gag, as much as I'd like to. I do not acknowledge it at all.

As it should be.

And those of us who hold our farts and pretend they do not exist, know that no amount of fart positive is going to get us to unclench. I would just like you to know you are not alone. There are others just as uncomfortable and horrified by that particular body function. So the next time you're hiding out in the bathroom of your date's apartment, fearing being heard, know you are not alone. And toilet paper wadded and tightly snugged to your asshole helps silence the sound. Just an FYI on a DIY butt muffler.

So, remember, everyone farts, but lets all pretend that we don't.

I Forgot To Be Sexy

Anyone over the age of twenty-two knows there are times when you just don't feel the sexy. That's understandable. No one tells you there are going to be times when you just straight up forget to be sexy. You'll have ample opportunity. You may even be dressing up for things like work on a regular basis. But it will slip your mind.

That happened to me. I forgot to be sexy. 

I confess, as a stay-at-home mom and a writer, I really don't have to look cute. Most days no effort is required of my appearance, but I like to look cute, so I often do. Not only that, but I write sexy sex scenes all the damn time. Yet, I still forgot to be sexy.

My husband, bless the man, he hits on me, he tell me I'm beautiful and sexy, yet it still escaped my mind. He dotes on me. He brings me treats when he gets off work. He calls on his way home from work to ask if I need anything from the store. He rubs my shoulders and back if I look like I'm feeling blue, and he's opened the car door for me for over thirteen years now. And those are only some examples of how awesome he is.

And I forgot to be sexy. 

As you can imagine, I feel like a total bitch. Here he is, trying with all his might to ignite the sexy and I'm dashing it with a fire-extinguisher. He's been holding up his end--going the extra mile--while I've just let my end fall by the wayside.

Don't get me wrong. There has still been sex. But it's been the sure-why-not sex any couple that's been together for a while knows is a normal thing. But when you're only having sure-why-not sex it becomes an unhealthy thing. Then it's just masturbation within a relationship. Hair doesn't necessarily have to be clean. You do all the positions you know will get each other off the quickest and there may be some fancy ass slapping, and dirty talk, but you're going to get down to business plain and simple. After you're done it's completely acceptable for you both to go back to doing your daily meh that you were doing before. You may even forget that you had sex that day.

That's a sorry state of affairs.

Sexy sex can happen while you don't have on a lick of makeup, wearing your ratty bathrobe, or all dolled up sporting your best lingerie, but you make it count. You get that I'm-going-to-tear-your-shit-up/come-and-get-it-daddy gleam in your eye. The sex can get freaky or just be up against the washing machine, and you and your partner are going to be thinking about that sex you just had all freaking day, or night, just counting the minutes until you can do it again.

And, yes, there will be times when you're just not mentally up for that, but there are going to be times you forget you're capable of that level of hot. You will forget, as I had forgotten. 

It wasn't until I was laid up with a double ear infection, my throat swollen and nasty, that I remembered that I was forgetting to be sexy. My husband was doing sweet considerate things for me and I realized he does those same things all the damn time. I'm just so wrapped up in everything else I didn't notice. But sick, in bed with a fever, I noticed.

A most inopportune moment to be sure. It wasn't as if I could do anything about it then.

I did tell him as soon as I was well we were going to have mind blowing sex on every surface of our house. It's a small house, so it's not exactly a great boast, but it's the thought that counts. I told him it was going to be freaky and dirty and glorious.

He smiled and kissed my forehead in an awe-her-fever-has-made-her-delirious way. But I'm not delirious. I'm going to remember to be sexy. Whether I'm writing, painting the living room, or doing the dishes. I'm going to remember I'm a sexy bitch.

 

I know many of you can commiserate. You may be like me and have forgotten the sexy, or you may have lost it completely. I'm here to remind you to bring the sexy back, and offer some suggestions on how to do that.

Sexy is really a state of mind. You must think sexy to be sexy, unless you're really f%$#ing hot. That's totally different. Even the really hot people have to feel sexy to bring the sexy. You want to feel sexy first and foremost.

1. 20-60 seconds of Porn. A recent study done by some scientist with a doctorate degree at some university somewhere, reported that women who view 20-60 seconds of porn not only started thinking about sexy things throughout the day, but were also more likely to initiate and enjoy sex. 

So now you know, you're just one tumblr porn clip away from redirecting your thoughts from your grocery list to sexual matters. 

2. Erotic literature. In case you didn't already know that. This is a little bit more of a time consuming endeavor than the porn clip, but no less worthy of a go.

3. Sleep. Seven to nine hours. Sex reduces stress and helps you sleep. Sleep helps reduce stress and revs your libido. Sex and sleep is where it's at. That combo is better than any anti-aging wrinkle cream. Have both in your life. You deserve it. 

4. Healthy diet of vitamins and certain foods. Zinc is a big libido booster that is underutilized for those that don't have a head cold. Vit E, B5 and 6 also have been known to help. They improve circulation, improve allergy problems and give you a feeling of well being. Vit A or beta-carotene.

Eating foods that contain these vitamins such as, berries, avocados, sweet potatoes, onions, garlic, and red meat have been known to help. 

5. Relax. Let-the-eff-go. Listen to some music. Move your body in a sensual manner. Let yourself feel sexy. Whether you are filing tax reports or running errands, be aware of your body and the fact that you are a sexual being. 

Sexy safe sex has a million and one benefits. Don't miss out. Be the sexy beast I know you can be! Bring back sexy!!