I am in the process of finalising a contract with English publishing company, Totally Bound for my BDSM Romance bestsellers, Daddy's Rules & His. These books will become available in digital and print format being sold in selected W. H. Smiths stores in the UK and online! I will also be giving some of my new work to US online magazine, Thoughtcatalog publishing. These titles will also be available to buy in print. Keep watching this space for further details.
In the meantime check out the excerpt. A woman in danger finds the 1920s gangster character she is writing about leaps out of the page to become real to protect her and show her some discipline over his knee with a firm bare bottom spanking for being reckless with her safety!
Cade watched Kristina stare hard at his own reflection in the mirror. He had yet to see his form in the physical world and found himself studying his image with curiosity. In spirit he was coloured with warmth yet here on earth without a physical body he appeared in black and white, just like a character in a old silent movie from the 1920s when he was last alive. She was staring at him hard. Her eyes and mouth were wide open with shock. He looked out of place in the modern 21st century surroundings. His thick raven hair was short and attractively slicked back in the 1920s style from his last incarnation.
Cade’s tailored suit was black and his tie long. His blue eyes stared back at him in black and white. His skin was smooth and he still retained the youthful features. He couldn’t help but grin at Kristina’s bemused expression. Then he quickly stepped back in to the shadows watching her jump and turn around trying to make sense of what she had just seen. It must be strange to come face to face with your novel’s main character.
Kristina put her hand to her head.
“I must be going mad. The stress is getting to me,” she murmured to herself. She shook her head and returned to finish drying her hair.
“Not long now,’ he muttered under his breath.
He made sure he was not seen for the rest of the evening and was happy to see her eat a small cheese sandwich. But once again she was early to bed, flicking through the TV channels, desperately trying to settle the tormenting fear she felt. Continually her eyes flicked to the door of the bedroom, watching, waiting for Wainwright to come storming in and drag her from the bed. She left the TV on as she snuggled down in the bed.
Cade could both feel and hear her heart pounding with anxiety. She tried tuning in to the voices on the television and the sounds of the family walking around upstairs for comfort but her efforts were in vain. He had ensured the building was secure and he would know immediately if anyone penetrated its defences. Cade wanted Kristina to sleep and to feel safe doing it. She needed a distraction to achieve that state of repose. She needed him.
Quietly, carefully he undid the button on his suit jacket and sat down on the bed beside her. Kristina’s back was turned as she lay facing the door. He reached upwards and began to stroke his ethereal fingers through her hair. If he was lucky she would now feel the familiar energy of his soothing touch and not be afraid. He was surprised when he heard her give a small satisfied sigh. He could feel his caress softening her body, taking her off red alert. He leaned over and noticed her eyes were now closed and she was happily drowsy with sleep.
Her cheek was so pale and soft, a delicate blush of peach and cream. The temptation to touch it was too overwhelming to resist. She moved in the bed when his fingers first brushed her skin.
“Hush, baby, I am here. There is nothing to be afraid of. I won’t let Wainwright hurt you again. You are safe, baby,” he whispered, bending to sweep his lips against the curve of her cheek. “Trust me to take care of you,” it was almost a plea.
A gentle moan of pleasure escaped her lips and then she whispered his name in her sleep. He forgot he wasn’t alive, forgot everything expect his long history with Kristina the moment he heard her call out to him. Cade bowed his head to her neck and rubbed his face against her skin. Another moan. Her body pressed back against his him. He stroked his fingers along her shoulder moving the strap of her black silk nightdress down her arm.
The action caused her to turn around to face him with her closed eyes. He paused startled by her movement and the way she appeared to push her face against his chest and curved her body in to the warmth of his ghostly embrace on the verge of sleep. He smiled. Had he a physical heart it would have leapt with joy and love. Instead the small act shimmered the energy field of his form with a storm of tiny white diamond lights allowing him to feel the intensity of the experience and the love for him she had hidden deep down in the recess of her soul. The defences she had placed around her heart and the bond they shared to shut him out was weakening. Dare he hope her higher consciousness was beginning to trust him again.
Cade swept his fingers up under her chin and lifted her face up to him. He brought his lips down on hers. His fingers tugged gently on the other thin strap of her nightdress on her shoulder and pulled it down to expose her flesh and the soft curved beginning of her full rounded milky breasts. Lightly his fingers traced their swell as he studied them before kissing her once more.
He was enchanted when her lips began to respond. His form might not be quite solid but it was heavy enough in its energy for her to feel his touch and the pressure of his mouth. He caught her lips more firmly cradling her head closer and penetrated her mouth wrestling her tongue for dominance.
Cade played his fingers around the darkened peak of one of her breasts, revelling on being able to feel her skin and the beautiful soft form and texture of her body. He plucked it, pulling it taut, remembering how she loved his touch to be rough and dominant. Her body arched upwards in response wanting more. It was a pleasure to oblige her. He cupped her plump breast and squeezed firmly, deepening his kiss.
Kristina’s body began to writhe against him in her sleep. Her skin was warm and buttery. Mounting her would be too risky. It would wake her and may even frighten her. It would be enough to stroke her pussy lips, to feel her warm wetness pooling around his fingers as he tugged at her engorged clit and penetrated her body leading her to climax.
Cade’s hand moved from her breast to travel underneath the duvet, slipping down the silky material to reach the short bottom of the nightdress. Without wasting further time he gathered it up in his hand and lifted it upwards to her waist under the covers.
He growled with pleasure against her lips when he skimmed his palm over the curve of her hip and dipped it between her naked thighs. His fingers traced the tantalising v shape there before smoothing them downwards across her neatly shaven sex. With a purposeful digit he moved inside her vaginal lips, stroking the silky walls. She was wet with need. Need for him. How long had it been since he had been able to be intimate with her? It didn’t matter. For a short while he could lose the agony of separation and feel the closeness of their eternal bond once more. It was time to remind her exactly who she belonged to whether here or in the next life. She was his and no one else’s. Wainwright was going to learn that for once and for all.
Determination and anger pulsed inside him making his touch of Kristina more firm and possessive as he thought of Wainwright attempting to take her from him. Once more she writhed against him in sleepy pleasure. The pressure on his fingers increased when he felt her folds pool more with silky juice around him and sought out her slick channel. He wanted to feel her coming helplessly against him. Just like old times when he had taken her by surprise, slipping his fingers inside her when in a restaurant and in the club in New York in the 1920s. She had come so intensely she had a hard time containing her moans and blushes in front of everyone.
Cade groaned as he reached his middle digit up inside her. She bucked up against him, welcoming his invasion. She was tight. She hadn’t been taken by a man for a long time. It pleased him. Her breath was tightening, becoming shallow and in short rasps against his lips when he began to move his finger up deep inside her. Her hips moved in rhythm to his penetrating finger thrusts. He slipped another finger inside stretching her vulva open to his satisfaction. She gave a helpless whimper. Kristina was close to coming but he wouldn’t allow pleasure to consume her just yet.
‘Not yet, honey. Remember, I am in charge and I do not want you coming yet. Obey me, Kristina just as you have always done. Just as you have always wanted to, my love,” he instructed firmly, softly. He made sure his voice carried the authority it had done in all their lives together.
He eased the pulse of his fingers watching the flush to her cheeks calm a little and her breathing return to normal as even in sleep she fought to hold back her need and obey him. He smiled with approval and then bent to capture her erect nipple between his teeth. He pulled it hard, stretching the engorged peak to capacity, hearing her breath quicken with a little pain. He repeated the action and felt her sex swim. She cried out in her sleep when he nipped her peak hard before suckling with intensity as though to draw and nourish himself with her milk. Once more her breath came in short rasps and her moans were inconsolable.
“Please, please . . . I need to come. Just let me come,” there were tears in her voice yet to his amazement she still remained asleep as though everything he had done to her was a strong lucid and vivid erotic dream she did not want to wake from. He was more than happy with the paradox.
He gave her clit a sharp pinch and increased the rhythmic thrust of his fingers feeling her hips dip and swell to move against them. He continued his pleasurable assault on her breast, pausing for a moment to speak to her.
“Now I will allow you to come, Kristina. Come for me now,” he commanded in a direct voice. “Or so help me, my love I will find a way to throw you over my knee and spank you sore like I used to when you were a naughty girl.”
He finished his seductive threat with another nip of her nipple between his teeth and felt her explode obediently into her orgasm around his fingers. Her vulva tightened and throbbed around his digits trapping them there. Cade connected with her mind and felt her strong orgasm swamp her thoughts and loosen every tight muscle in her body. He rode the wave with her, returning his lips to her mouth to penetrate deep and hard consuming her with his dominance and ensuring her submission to his claim upon her body mind and soul.
The moment her pleasure came to a rest her eyes opened drowsily as she began to rouse from her perceived dream, occupying the state between sleep and wakefulness once more. She looked in to his eyes as he leisurely finished his deep kiss. She appeared struck dumb and confused by his presence yet her skin was still flushed with arousal. He moved his lips from her mouth and brushed them across her forehead knowing their contact was about to be broken.
“Soon,” he whispered getting up from the bed and walking to the door, fading his form from her sight into invisibility with a smile as he did so. Her eyes fluttered and closed allowing sleep to consume her for a second time.
Kristina sat up with a start. Sunlight streamed in through a small gap in the curtains. What had happened last night? Had she been dreaming? She could of sworn she saw Cade Driscoll, the character from her novel in her mirror when drying her hair and then lying on her bed next to her. But he was in black and white as though cut out from an old movie. She must have been dreaming about him again. She was too close to the character. Kristina had a habit of falling in love with her male characters but it had been a mere fantasy that had fizzled out as soon as she ended the book but this one . . . It was madness. He was so strong in her mind. A strong dominant presence she could not eradicate from her thoughts. He haunted her dreams as though he were standing on the sidelines of the dream images watching proceedings from afar as though guarding and protecting her not just from dream enemies but herself. Kristina felt uneasy yet excited all at the same time that her weird thoughts upon the matter might actually be the truth. Perhaps in some strange way he did exist somehow.
Maybe just in your crazy mind. Get a grip and stop thinking nonsense. Finish the book and get him out of your head. Maybe he is a ghost and not just a character . . . Cut it out. But the sex. . . God, that felt real, wonderful, so intense. It was him I know it was him. Somehow it was him. I just know I could see him on my bed. Who are you?
Kristina got up and showered, still perplexed and distracted by her thoughts. She didn’t know if she believed in ghosts let alone ones she wrote about. It was clear there had been something funny about the story she was writing. She had a strange affinity with her female protagonist, Elizabeth Radley even though she was a 1920s flapper and silent movie star. It had almost felt as though she was writing about herself. Elizabeth’s relationship with the male protagonist, the gangster Cade Driscoll had taken on a life of its own. It was passionate, all consuming and tragic. Sometimes it felt as though her hands were guided across the keyboard and the very words to write whispered in to her ear. She had no idea why but it was essential she finish the story as soon as possible. For some reason there was a possibility her life depended upon it.
After dressing she decided it would be better to clear her mind in the cool frosty air and gather more provisions from the local supermarket before beginning to write. As she walked along the road leading in to the small Lakeside town she became aware of a tall presence walking just behind her. She turned quickly but could not see anything or anyone. A tight fear flickered briefly in her chest making her expect to see Wainwright. Bravely she took another look and felt relief flood her veins. There was no one there.
But the feeling of being followed was to return again quickly. Spinning around she was convinced for a brief second she saw Cade Driscoll walking behind her in a black suit wearing a trilby. And this time he wasn’t in black and white. When she turned back to face the way she was going an image of him behind her image was so strong in her mind she had no choice but to believe somehow it was real. She could not shake the feeling. Frustrated she decided to dismiss it as much as she could and concentrate on how she felt safer and in better health because Wainwright had still not found out where she was staying.
Deciding to be adventurous she skipped past the large supermarket and to walk down past the three Lakeside campsites to the small wood leading to the Lake itself. The air was fresh and Kristina could see her breath smoke out from her lungs in to the air in front of her. Snow had fallen like a fine powder the night before covering the previous heavy snow which had been piled against the back edge of the path and away from the roads. It covered the path and road with a light dusting making it impossible to see the treacherous ice underneath. Still she was confident she could make it without hindrance in her walking boots. The whole event became important to her sense of independence and determination not to allow Wainwright to force her in to hiding and cowering before him. No way was she going to let him win.
She gasped when she thought she saw the glimpse of a black shoe belonging to the phantom walking beside her. Her friend was in to the spiritual stuff. Kristina began to wonder if she should give her a call and get some advice. She wasn’t a believer or a nonbeliever in spirits but enough was happening for her to need to find out was going on. Maybe some spirit had attached itself to her and was forcing her to write a story. She gave a small laugh at herself.
Listen to you. You are crazy. More like your imagination and paranoia are working overtime because Wainwright is trying to follow your every move. Characters from a story don’t just come to life. If they do in your mind, then you are a candidate for the funny farm.
Kristina folded her arms around her body and dipped the bottom of her face under the scarf wound thickly around her neck. She began walking with purpose along the path leading into a small wood determined the ice wasn’t going to stop her either. There was no one else in the wood. A car drove past very slowly but other than that the people going in and out of the campsites had disappeared and she was alone. It made her a little nervous but she knew that once she found the gate and walked a little further through the wood it would open out on to a large field filled with sheep leading down to the water’s edge and the Lakeside theatre and its cafe. There were bound to be a lot of people around there taking in the sites despite the weather. It would be so picturesque to see the Lake in the snow. She’d seen it many times before whilst holidaying there as a child but had never seen it in the snow. She couldn’t wait to view it.
The gate was in sight now but two men were coming out of it. They were a scruffy looking lot, young and uncouth in their appearance. One of them sniffed and kept rubbing his nose. Fear crept into her mind from the sides. It was the way they were looking at her rather than their appearance. They seemed to be sizing her up. Instinctively she tightened her hold on her bag. She was damned if they were going to steal her prize possession, her Prada bag. She’d bought it with her first earnings as a writer. It was a testament to the beginnings of her success when she’d believed she would never make it as an author. No way were they taking it away from her.
Her mind frantically tried to work out what to do. If she turned and ran they would run her down and there would be no one to help. Maybe she should face them head on, just walk past as though she wasn’t bothered by them. She might be imagining that they wanted to hurt her. Hardening her pretty pale features she marched on. To her surprise they allowed her to pass on the road as she crossed it to walk up the small bank towards the gate. Kristina’s heart thudded loudly in her chest. Perhaps she was right, they were just two innocent scruffy youths and had no intention of causing her any harm. Wainwright was making her look weirdly at the world. Every man was a potential stalker, thief and rapist since she’d met him. Get a grip on yourself woman.
Kristina had just stopped to open the gate when she felt a hand on her arm. Before she could utter a cry, one of the men she’d passed grabbed her and snatched her bag away. Kristina lashed out at the man, determined to defend herself but her blows were futile against his strength. The man threw the bag to his friend and pushed her to the ground with a loud laugh. He leaned over her pinning her arms down against the snowy ground on the bank while his friend searched inside her bag. The friend gave a loud groan as he tossed the contents of her bag on to the road.
“There’s plenty of credit cards but no cash. It’s not going to get us what we need. We might get something for the bag. It’s a Prada. That’s got to be worth something,” the man tried to sound upbeat but his friend was unconvinced. He leered at Kristina.
“You should have carried cash,” he said grabbing her hair in a tight fist and making her yelp with pain.
Kristina felt her eyes widen with fear as she stared up at him.
“I am going to take something else from you instead,” he told her with menace.
No, no. There is no way you are going to get that. Not without a huge fight.
Tears gathered in her eyes.
I didn’t escape Marcus just to let you rape me.
To her relief fierce survival anger began to override her fear. It made her feel strong, hopeful she could escape the fate about to befall her. She kicked and punched out at the man who pulled her upwards and began to drag her by the scarf around her neck further in to the woods. The scarf pulled taut around her neck threatening to strangle the breath from her body. She fought to breathe, momentarily halting her struggles in a futile attempt to tear the scarf from her throat. It rendered her helpless and as the man pushed her down flat on the cold hard frosty ground she began to feel defeated. They were going to rape her and there was nothing she could do about it.
“I won’t let them rape you. I promise. Stay as calm as you can and trust me,” a soft reassuring deep male voice spoke loudly inside her mind.
She didn’t have time to believe or disbelieve the voice. To her surprise her character Cade Driscoll stood tall in flesh and blood behind her attackers. He took hold of both their collars and propelled them backwards in unison with force up and away from her. One of the men moved around to attack him, aiming a square fist at his jaw but Cade was quick to block him and land him a hard unforgiving punch across his face knocking him sideways and spinning to the ground. The other man was charged.
Cade caught hold of him pulling him round to punch him twice to the face and then to the stomach. Although the man was clearly winded he refused to give up and swung a punch at Cade. Kristina’s attacker groaned in agony and slumped to the ground next to his friend who was wiping at his bloody nose and still trying to recover.
Kristina watched Cade reach inside his 1920s suit jacket and draw an old 1920s semi-automatic pistol from the holster around his chest and aim it at the men with a steady practiced hand. She recoiled at seeing the weapon but he was suddenly by her side pulling her up to standing and drawing her protectively to him.
“Leave now or you are both going to take an early trip out of this world and you aren’t coming back,” he drawled fiercely in his American accent.
The men were terrified. They didn’t need to be told twice and they fled down the road leading back to the campsites. Cade stared after them until they disappeared from view then he let go of Kristina and replaced the pistol back in the holder inside his jacket. She felt him touch her arm.
“Are you all right? Did they hurt you?” he questioned placing his fingers underneath her chin and lifting her face up to him. His eyes were full of unguarded concern for her.
She stared at him dumbfounded, unable to speak or to even find the words.
All she could manage was, “How? How are you . . .”
He ignored her words, his eyes lowering to look at the scarf pulled tightly around her neck. With gentle fingers he began to loosen its grip on her throat. Cade looked down at her with his gorgeous blue eyes out from underneath his stylish black trilby as he pulled the red wool scarf from her throat. He tossed it to the ground and pressed his cool fingers against her throat.
“ Your throat is red and bruised. You must be sore,” he said creasing his handsome face in to a frown. She felt his fingers gently probe causing her to cough. Inside she had a sore throat and she still felt it hard to catch her breath. No doubt panic and fear was still strangling her nerves from the attack. Cade’s touch was so gentle, careful and considerate.
“You need to rest,” he informed her in a soothing caressing voice as though he was expecting resistance to his command.
“How are you alive?” she suddenly spluttered. “You are a character in a book. You aren’t supposed to be alive in the real world,” she said listening to the hysteria beginning to rise in her voice. Kristina felt herself begin to shake suddenly feeling cold and the effects of shock.
She wasn’t the only one who had seen him now. She wasn’t going mad. He was definitely real, alive. There was no point in denying his existence any further.
“We can talk about that later. Right now I want you home, warm and safe,” he simply told her.
“But I was going to the Lake and then the shops. I can’t go home yet . . .” she felt dazed.
“No, shock is setting in. If you are a good girl and do as you are told I might let you out later but not until we have had a discussion about your reckless nature concerning your safety. You have some lessons to learn about that baby,” he said firmly, a dark warning in his voice.
“Baby, you are calling me baby. No man has ever dared to call me baby . . .”
“Well, honey, I dare.”
Kristina’s legs buckled and her shaking increased until she felt her teeth chattering. He swept his arm around her body and drew her close again, holding her up against him. He rubbed her arm and propelled her back along the road picking up her scarf to drape it around her shoulders.
Her feet didn’t feel as if they were touching the ground as he led her home. Her eyes flickered with the heavy need to faint as they briskly walked.
“You haven’t eaten properly for a few weeks now and you are weak. You are making yourself ill, Kristina. I won’t stand for it,” Alex chastised with firmness in his voice. “You need some ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” she muttered with disbelief.
“Yes, honey you need a good sound spanking on that bare bottom of yours until you see just how much danger you have been putting yourself in. I have come to take you in hand and a spanking is what we will start with,” he told her with a grin.
It was a sober thought and one that helped revive her senses from her shock.
“How dare you? Who the hell are you? This is some kind of trick. What is going on? Why are you pretending to be my character?”
“All in good time. Let’s get you home and over my knee.”
The moment they reached the apartment Cade surprised her by quickly moving his arm underneath her legs and lifting her up in to his arms. He stood in front of the door demanding she give him the keys.
“No, no way. I am not giving you the keys so you can take me in there and spank me like a child. Put me down and leave me in peace,” she informed him fiercely.
But he was not to be deterred and he started to laugh adding to her overwhelming annoyance and apprehension. She wondered what it would be like to feel his hand slapping hard down on the bare flesh of her buttocks. He had large, firm, masculine hands and she had no doubt it would hurt.
Kristina felt herself being lowered to the ground. But Cade Driscoll appeared to have no intention of letting her go. He directed her back against the wall of the ground floor apartment next to the door and took her bag from her. He was so close to her body trapping her there. It gave her an opportunity to study him and forget her anger and bewilderment for a second.
This incarnation of Cade Driscoll was the real deal. His haunting blue eyes, strong tall lean muscled physique, raven hair and handsome smooth dark features were exactly as she’d written them. She couldn’t help but stare, mesmerised and enthralled. Even the black 1920s suit and trilby were accurate. He went straight to the keys in her bag and pulled them out and throwing her bag down on the garden table next to them. Leaning his hand above her head against the wall he dangled them in front of her.
“You are going to have to get used to me being in your life. From now on I am in charge and I am going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe and healthy.”
Infuriated, Kristina reached out to snatch the keys from him but with a wicked grin he pulled them back.
“No you don’t. Now let’s get you inside so I can bare that bottom of yours and take my hand to it.”
Kristina’s eyes widened in horror. She began to protest violently. But he ignored her taking hold of her arm, dipping his body to pull her over his shoulder like a slain deer. She kicked at his chest and banged her fists on his back but calmly he opened the door, picked up her bag and carried her in.
Kristina heard him lock the door behind him and then she was being carried in to the lounge. There seemed to be no way to escape her fate now. Elegantly he removed his trilby and tossed it on to the table then lowered her to the floor.
“Let me go.”
He gave a heavy amused sigh and began unbuttoning her long black coat, pulling it from her struggling body with ease.
‘Good. You are wearing a nice warm dress. That is going to make things a lot easier.”
He caught hold of her wrist and tugged her towards a high backed chair tucked underneath the dining table in the corner. He moved it out in to a comfortable position and sat down. Kristina was falling over his knee fast.
Mortified she did all she could to lift herself up but he was to hold her down with a firm hand on her back.
“If you stop bleating and struggling this will be over a lot sooner than you think. When I am spanking you I want you to remember that every time you put your life in danger with careless and reckless behaviour you will find yourself over my knee having your backside tanned. You will be sore when this is finished and it will serve as a lingering reminder of my low tolerance for your misbehaviour,” his voice was as dark and as smooth as velvet yet there was stark authority and command behind it like a schoolmaster’s. She faltered hearing something else in his tone. This man really did care about her. But the moment was short lived when she felt him lifting her red wool dress and quickly tucking his fingers underneath her panties to pull them down.
Cade lowered them just above below the backs of her thighs and were the lace tops of her hold up stockings rested. She tried not to imagine the view of her naked rump framed by her panties and her dress to his eyes. Shame and embarrassment burned hotly in her cheeks prompting her to kick and squall like a naughty little girl about to receive her punishment.
“You badly need this, Kristina. Hopefully you will be a lot more calm and compliant when I have finished. But I have a feeling this is going to be the first of many sessions over my knee until you correct how you conduct yourself. I am not going to let you down again, Kristina. This time I will keep you safe.”
Kristina found herself distracted pondering what he meant by the words again and this time. She was so confused but she was quickly brought out of her musings by feeling a whoosh of air traveling over her bare bottom and the touch of a heavy firm male hand against it. She gave a loud cry of pain at the sting flaring across her buttocks when Cade struck her rump hard with his hand and began her punishment. The second came fast, before she could catch her breath. Her bottom quivered and jumped with each of his masterful strokes across it. Heat built and the pain scored her flesh. Her tears flowed freely as did her loud sobs.
Surprisingly it felt good to cry as though each spank Cade gave her she was releasing a lot of pent up tension, fear and frustration. But it wasn’t until the tenth slap that she suddenly realised it was doing much more and she was becoming pleasurably wet between her thighs.