Wednesday, December 24, 2014

WIP It Up Christmas Eve.

Merry Christmas one and all.  
As a holiday treat, I'm sharing the opening to my upcoming release, the long awaited sequel to Marshal's Law.  

This is Heath Jackson's story.  Join me as I harken back to Laramie, Wyoming.  1878.  This is eldest son Heath Jackson's story.  Hurt and humiliated by a woman in the past, he's decided love and marriage aren't for him.  He sticks to the safe women in town, worldly-wise widows or the ladies who are willing to spend time with him without expecting more at the end of the night.

Aaron can see to carrying on the Jackson name.  A confirmed bachelor, Heath enjoys working his families ranch.  That all changes when Jenny Harper, a family friend keeps getting herself into one scrape after another.  What's a man to do, except bail the curvy redhead out and take her over his knee when the need arises.

Official blurb, cover and release date coming soon.  For now, enjoy an excerpt from Jackson's Justice, Book 2 in my Silverbend Ranch Series. 

Isn't it nice that Heath and Aaron are spitting
 images of each other?  That way we get to look
at Joe again, my inspiration for both Aaron
            of book 1, and big brother Heath of book 2.
<heavy, appreciative sigh>
A wealth of her red-gold hair glimmering like a fall sunset drew his eye.  The body beneath it garnered his attention as well.  As she walked up the main aisle, Heath Jackson perused the woman openly from his seat near the back.  An unusual mix of reds and gold, shot through with an occasional strand of reddish brown—akin to copper—her hair was nothing like he’d ever seen before.  It was gathered high at the back of her head in a clip that barely contained the bounty and allowed several long springy tendrils to escape.  He imagined it was breathtaking when falling loose around her shoulders.  His fingers burned to release the high knot, spear into the mass and finger comb the glossy curls that would surely reach to her lower back, or beyond to her pert little bottom.

Despite the small bustle on her dress, he could discern a narrow waist, curvy hips and what he imagined was a sweetly rounded bottom.  He’d developed quite an imagination when the despicable birdcages had come into fashion and hid on of his favorite feminine features from view.  At least he no longer had to try to determine a woman’s shape beneath one of those awful hoop skirts.  

As the woman moved along, she nodded at folks, pausing every now and again for a brief word or to clasp hands.  Near the front, she leaned over to hug an elderly woman who was too frail to stand.  The position pulled her skirt tight across her hips and Heath nearly swallowed his tongue.  Images of the beauty bent over with her bottom bared for him flooded his mind. 

Without benefit of the skirt and whatever fripperies she wore beneath, he would guide her curvy body over one of the benches.  Naked, her bare bottom upraised, she would tremble ever so slightly in anticipation. Stretching forward, she’d reach toward the bench seat, her breasts swaying freely, the glorious mass of her Titian hair tumbling over her shoulders and onto the cushions, spreading out like a fan.

She would strain toward the floor, her toes pointed downward, just out of reach.  As she balanced precariously, he would enjoy teasing glimpses of the sweet treasure that lay between her thighs, the glistening pink flesh framed by a perfect thatch of red-gold curls.

Breathless and eager for that first touch, for the fervent kiss of his hard palm on her rounded behind, she would whimper softly through her plump, parted lips. 

Ever gracious, he wouldn’t make her wait. 

Beginning low on the back of her silken thigh, he’d run his hand slowly upward, gliding over the rounded hills of her bottom cheeks.  His fingertips grazing along the cleft of her bottom, would dip inside to test her wetness and heat.

As she trembled in response, his purpose would come back to him.  A long time in coming, she had earned this spanking for teasing him, flirting outrageously, holding herself away from him and building his need to a fever pitch.

Unable to wait any longer, his hand would rear back, returning swiftly to connect with a smarting crack across her pristine behind.  A sharp intake of breath echoing off the walls would come back to them as she flipped her hair out of her face.  She would turn to him, her beautiful face flushed, brilliant green eyes wide as a plea came from her plump parted lips...

Fantasy became reality in that moment as the redhead turned and he saw her brilliant green eyes, which seemed to gaze straight at him.

I wish I had a buy link for you, hurry Mr. Publisher, please...   Believe me, I'm as impatient as you.   

Get an early start and hop around the blog, relax with some sexy excerpts before the gifts, food and chaos of the holiday begins.  Enjoy.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

A HOT BDSM Fairy Tale with Maggie Carpenter on Wicked Wanton Wednesday

Once upon a time, Maggie Carpenter invaded Wicked Wanton Wednesday with a freakin' HOT BDSM fairy tale...

and Maddie Taylor swooned happily ever after!


I only have one question, with a title like THE WARRIOR AND THE PETULANT PRINCESS is a blurb even necessary?  

Immediately, my wicked mind conjured up visions of a royal princess with her glittering gown up around her shoulders while squirming, wriggling and displaying her naughty behind over a brawny, hard muscled thigh of a brave, commanding take no sh#t warrior knight.   

<heavy sigh... heavier panting... squirming and a little wriggle of my own>  

However, since Maggie brought along a blurb, let's give it a look-see before we move on to the best part, the wicked wanton excerpt.

Maggie and her sexy snippets has certainly become one of my favorite guests.   

By Maggie Carpenter


“The days that you issue commands are over,” he admonished. “I shall spank you as you deserve, and if you dare to bark at me again I will keep my promise and remove this thin undergarment."

In this romantic BDSM fairy tale, an elite warrior delivers lustful spankings to the deserving bottom of his pampered Princess while tantalizingly teaching her the joys of the flesh. Princess Lizbett learns that while punishment can be painful, the rewards of surrender to the arms of a loving Dominant, offers not just an ironic sense of freedom, but ultimate pleasure.

       Once upon a time, in a lustrous kingdom named Verdana, lived a strong-willed, petulant Princess named Lizbett, the only child of the kingdom’s sovereign monarch, King Handerah. Though the King had attempted to discipline his difficult daughter it proved impossible; her appealing violet eyes would melt his heart, and she’d continue with her willful ways.

       As a young woman, she had fallen madly in crush with a mysterious young man who was working in the castle stables for the summer. His name was Larian; his hair fell in long shimmering ringlets and his clear aqua eyes sparkled into hers.

       “You are so spoiled,” he’d whispered. “I must leave here soon, but when I am grown I will be back, and then I will teach you many things.”

       He kept his promise, but when he returned she was shocked to learn he was from Zanderone, a kingdom of mighty warriors. He had won the title of Warrior of the First Order, and it soon became clear he was more than man enough to deal with her rash, reckless, and selfish behavior.


“What is this?” she protested, and as she attempted to sit up she discovered she could not; her opposite wrist and both her ankles were also tethered. “Who has done this to me?” she wailed. “Show yourself. You must be a coward to tie a woman like this.”

       Movement across the room caught her eye, and she sighed in relief when she saw it was Larian.

       “Thank goodness! Look, Larian, look what someone has done to me!”

       She watched him ambling towards the bed and began squirming impatiently.

       “Why are you moving so slowly? Please, Larian, please hurry and get me out of these ropes.”

       He stopped at the foot of the bed, and crossing his arms he glowered down at her.

       “I tied you!” he declared.

       “What? You? Why?”

       “If you do not know then I must leave,” he growled walking away.

       “Wait? Where are you going? You can’t leave me like this. I won’t allow it. Why? Why did you do this? Tell me, I demand you tell me.”

       Ignoring her he continued to move away, but just as he was about to leave the chamber he turned around.

       “Think about the question you asked me,” he said sternly, then disappeared through the curtain.


       Her voice was loud and shrill, and she groaned with great relief when he suddenly reappeared.

       “Thank goodness! I should think so!”

       He moved swiftly across the room, and only when he sat next to her did she notice what was in his hand.

       “No, not the horse bit thing, no!”

       “Screaming is not acceptable. I’m going to leave it right here,” he said placing it next to her. “If you yell like that again it will go inside your mouth, but be warned, I’ve added a very distasteful potion and you won’t like it.”

       “How long are you going to leave me here,” she pleaded.

       “I told you to think about the last question you asked, before you began screeching that is. When you have the answer to that question, then, and only then, will I consider releasing you.”

       Speechless, she watched him stand up and march away, then stared at the bit laying next to her. She wanted to wail at him, she wanted to yell and pound her fists on his chest, but she certainly didn’t want that thing back between her teeth. Sighing heavily she closed her eyes and thought about his comment.

       “I told you to think about the last question you asked.”

       Why? That was my question, why did you do this to me? He’s punishing me for something, yes, he’s punishing me. That’s the answer. Wait, that’s only part of the answer. Why is he punishing me? Ooh, because I snuck into his chamber and climbed into bed with him. Of course, but he was sleeping. What does it matter? If only I’d woken first I could have snuck away and he’d never have known. Oh well, at least I have the answer now.

       “Larian, I know why,” she called.


       “Larian!” she called again, a little louder.


       His body whistled through the curtain and zipped across the room so quickly she barely had time to catch her breath before he was placing the bit between her teeth.


       “I warned you,” he said sternly, standing up scowling down at her. “Does everyone jump when you yell? Did you expect me to come running because you think you have the answer? Foolish girl,” he scolded.  “You called once, that was enough. You will learn I will come when I’m ready to come, not because you yell for me. I was very clear, scream and the bit goes in your mouth. Now you will stay tied up even longer.”

       “Hmphf,” she bleated, her eyes pleading up at him.

       “Enough! Not another sound!”

       Turning quickly he strode away, and as Lizbett saw the curtain flutter in his wake the first bitter taste of the potion on the hard rubber between her lips began to fill her mouth.

       Oh, this is dreadful, what is it? Ooh, this is... but before she could finish her thought a small voice began chattering in her head.

       Larian is a warrior, he is a Warrior Of The First Order, he is a Commander. His will is iron, his promise is gold, his threats are real, his mind is as sharp as his sword. You have his love, but if you want him you have to realize he means what he says.  If you want him you will have to obey him. If you want him you will have to be...a...a good girl, a really good girl.

Learn more about the author, Maggie Carpenter, at the following links:

Thank you for dropping by today Maggie.  You are my last guest of 2014.  

I will have a special New Year wrap up post but otherwise, stay tuned to WWW in 2015 for more exciting author guest spots, wonderful excerpts, and awesome interviews.

Merry Christmas to all and I hope Santa brings you lots of Amazon dollars to keep you warm through the long, cold winter.  

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Playing Doctor With Trent Evans on Wicked Wanton Wednesday

Welcome Trent, it's so nice, and rare, to have a male perspective on WWW. 

Bringing along a medical BDSM title is a special treat.  Santa must have had Maddie listed twice on the naughty list this year.  

(Only twice!  I must be slipping.)  

What's more fun than a sexy doctor having you strip naked and telling you in a deep, authoritative voice things like, "Open your mouth, wider," or "Just relax", or "Put you hands up by your head so I can examine your breasts", or "Let your knees fall open".  All real quotes from my real doctors while in a paper gown.  Okay, maybe that isn't so much fun in a real exam room, but in our sweetest, sexiest fantasies, if he said, "this won't hurt a bit", how many of us would be disappointed?  

So, Dr. Evans is in and will see us now. Let's get on with the exam and see what he has up his sleeve today.  

Hello, Maddie! Thank you for hosting me on your blog. I’ve got a new release (scheduled to go live 12/11/14) called The Doctor and The Naughty Girl. This is my first medical BDSM title and had such an awesome time writing it. Please read on for the blurb and an excerpt…

The Doctor and The Naughty Girl
By Trent Evans


Dr. Dane McKendrick is tired of his twenty-four-year-old receptionist, Amity Derrington, failing to take her job seriously. Amity is beautiful and smart, but the rich, spoiled girl clearly needs a firm hand, and when she shows up late for work and hung over yet again, Dane lets her know that from now on her behavior will have consequences.

It isn’t long before Amity puts Dane’s warning to the test, and she soon ends up over his knee for a long, hard, bare-bottom spanking. But she’s completely unprepared for the strong emotions that overwhelm her as she dangles over the stern doctor’s lap, and though the painful chastisement brings her to tears, Dane’s attentions turn her on more than she ever imagined possible.

More embarrassing still, when Dane learns the extent to which she has neglected her annual check-ups, Amity quickly finds herself receiving the most intimate, thorough exam of her life. But when Amity learns the full truth about Dane, will she be able to give him everything he wants? And if Amity’s father—who happens to be the most prominent man on the hospital board—finds out about their new relationship, will it cost Dane his job?

Publisher’s Note: The Doctor and the Naughty Girl is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, medical play, anal play, BDSM content, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

* * * *

“Come on, time to talk,” he said, marching her from the door, pulling up on her arm as if she were a little girl, then shoving her into a seat at the table.

“Dane, what the hell!”

She knew she’d pay for it, but the words just blurted before she had a chance to shut her mouth. His grip hurt!

Rather than move around to the other side of the table to take a seat himself, Dane simply stood there, a mere foot away, glaring down at her from his great height. The black button down shirt he wore lovingly accentuated every plane of his broad shoulders, every bulge of muscle of his strong chest. The hint of blue of five o’clock shadow shaded his square jaw. She couldn’t help but wonder how its roughness would feel against her own skin.

“What the hell was that this morning?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she thrust her chin up, meeting his gaze. “I was late, but it wasn’t my fault. I already told you that.”

“You’ve been doing so well, Amity. And now this.” His jaw clenched. “I want to know why.”

“Why do you want to know?” She crossed her arms. “You’d still think it was my fault, no matter what I told you. And you still wouldn’t do anything about it.”

Amity, don’t push him.

She had to though. This was part of this… whatever the fuck this was. The arrangement. Yes, she feared being punished, but things were evolving into a lot more than being disciplined for her misdeeds. When he’d kissed her out there, she’d been shocked to the marrow of her bones. It was as if that one deed had confirmed for her what she’d been feeling for weeks, what kept her distracted during the day, awake at night. This was very, very sexual — for both of them. Even though she still had no idea what she was really doing, she wanted more.

She wanted more of him.

“You’re confused about something.” He stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat of his body. She wanted nothing more than to hug herself tight to him, to let him do his worst.

“I’m not confused about anything. You’re not holding up your end of the bargain, Dane.” Heat prickled at the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t let her gaze waver. “You’ve asked me to do this, to obey you, to let you help me. And I have. But when you don’t… do what you’re supposed to do, it’s all bullshit. It’s all wrong.”

His gaze softened at that, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “So that’s it.”

“What’s it?”

Amity knew she was digging the hole deep, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If she had to push him, then so be it. She was a tough girl. She could take it.

His hands closed upon her upper arms, tight, and he yanked her to her feet as if she were light as a feather, his face bearing down on hers. His warm breath brushed her cheek.

“Before you came in here, I’d resolved myself to just lecturing you, maybe writing you up. Then sending you on your way. But seeing you like this? I was wrong.” He kissed her again, savagely this time, crushing his mouth to hers, nipping her lip as he pulled away, growling. “I know what you need now. But first thing’s first.”

He spun her around so fast, it disoriented her for a moment, her hair flying in her face. He kicked her chair away, the thud against the carpet as it toppled over making her jerk. Her thighs pressed to the edge of the table as he crowded up against her back. His hands reached around her, clasping her throat in a firm grip, enough to feel the pressure against her pulse. His other hand took hold of her breast, squeezing cruelly, making Amity hiss at the sharp pain.

“This is your last chance, Amity. If you think this is what you want, this is the last chance you’ve got to step away from the edge. Say the word now and this ends — all of it. Last chance, girl. I mean it.”

Her belly tightened each time his thumb coursed over the hard point of her nipple, prominent even through the fabric of her top.
I hope you know what you’re doing.

She kept quiet, feeling the quickening beat of her pulse against the hand clasping her throat. She looked back at him, studying those dark eyes. Then she gave him the tiniest of nods, her heart in her throat.

His hand released her throat, then twisted in the hair at the back of her head, wrenching her back, her face toward the ceiling. His whisper tickled the hair at her temple.

“Good choice.”

Dane pushed her over, his heavy hand pressing her to the table so hard she let out a gasp.

“Lay your hands on the table. Above your head. More.” He pressed her down harder, and she squeaked, stretching her arms along the tabletop. She laid her cheek against the cold polished wood.

“Don’t move,” he murmured as he worked at the button of her pants, his other hand still holding her down.

Oh my god.

“What are you… doing?”

“Keep that smart mouth shut, Amity. I don’t want to hear anything out of it except ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘No, sir’, you got me?”

A shudder ran through her body, her nipples hardening against the hard tabletop. “Yes, sir.”

He loosened the tight slacks but couldn’t move them down much with one hand. He leaned over her, the bulge of his erection against her bottom.

“You move from that table and you’ll regret it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice was a frightened murmur.

Then he had both hands hooked in her pants, working them down, her naked bottom jiggling mortifyingly as he bared it. He stopped, snapping one of her garters.

“Forget something this morning?”

“I don’t… no, sir.”

She’d chosen not to wear panties, not even thinking about it consciously as she’d dressed that morning. She knew if she thought about it too much, too directly, she’d lose her nerve. So she’d done it, as if on autopilot, hoping it was pleasing to him — even as she had no idea how he might react.

“Interesting,” he said, fingers tracing the line of each garter down to the tops of her stockings. He worked her slacks the rest of the way down her legs, pulling them from each heel. His foot tapped at the insides of her feet.


Amity swallowed hard, moving her legs shoulder width apart.

“Straighten your legs now. Hollow your back, and turn those heels out.”

Her cheek burned hot against the tabletop as she obeyed, realizing he’d be able to see her arousal, the undeniable truth of what his harsh treatment was doing to her.

Fingers played along the hot wetness of her slit, then spread her buttocks wide, making her whimper. Nobody had ever done that to her before, and her face flamed as she felt the weight of his gaze on that most private of places. A finger touched her bottom hole and she yelped.

“Oh, please…”

“Shh, relax,” he said, his voice thick. His finger circled the sensitive flesh of her anus, the tip worrying the opening gently. 

“Pretty little ass, and all on display for me too. Your pussy is so wet, Amity, you’re practically dripping.” His fingers slipped between the lips of her sex, gathering the damning evidence. “I think someone likes this.”

* * * *

Purchase Links

(The Doctor and the Naughty Girl is also available as part of What the Doctor Ordered, part of 5 book boxed set, which is a real medical play bargain.  Available as an individual title beginning 12/11/14) 

Author Links

Maddie’s Intimate Authors Corner Questions.

Finally, <rubbing her hands together> another man in the hot seat.  Bwah ha ha...

Just kidding, I'm easy.  LOL

Maddie:  What inspired you to take the plunge and write/publish that first book?

Trent: This is going to sound stupid, but I honestly… don’t remember, exactly. I’ve been writing for a long time, but basically up until recently It was only for myself (I never thought it was near the quality I thought “real” writers produced). I think I’d stumbled across an article on Joe Konrath (this would’ve been December 2011 or so), and after losing about eight hours reading the posts on his website, I thought “what the hell”, pulled out a story called A Message of Love I’d written earlier that year, and gave it a shot. I never really believed anyone would actually pay money to read my writingJ

Maddie:  It is a surreal experience, I agree.  That people actually want to read your inner most thoughts and kinky fantasies.  How much of your books are, based on your own personal experiences?

Trent: Well, both the paranormal and my fantasy titles are obviously 100% fiction. God, that would be sweet if that were real though… Where was I? Oh, right. My contemporary stuff? There are a few things that are based on personal experience – no, I won’t say which ones – but the vast majority of it is pure fictionJ

Maddie:  Awww, you mean Muurland doesn't exist? <crushed over here, giggles>  Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp or is it simply an outlet for your deepest, darkest fantasies? 

Trent: What a great question. My guess would be, it’s a little of both.  I try to embed a deeper message or theme into my novels, but I’m not sure I always succeed with it. Considering the genres I write in, I’m not sure that there’s really “room” for a lot of deeper meaning or symbolism. I’m not exactly a lit-fic prose maestro hereJ That said, the themes my novels almost always come back to are: lust (of course), acceptance, finally knowing – and loving -- oneself, and most of all, love.

There is definitely an element of exploring fantasies as well, but there are some things in my novels that I’d actually pass on in real life. Not many, granted, but there are some…

Maddie:  I'd definitely be interested in learning those R/T limits, Trent.  And acceptance and loving oneself does make you a prose maestro, what better message is there than that?   

What is your biggest challenge as an author?

Trent: Too many ideas, too many “oh look, shiny!” plots, too many projects I want to do “now, goddammit, now!” (ten points to anyone who gets that reference…). Another problem I struggle with is the balancing act between “art” and “commercial”. The arstiste dipshit part of me wants to write all this literary stuff… that nobody would want to read. The commercial part of me then pimp slaps the little artiste right outta the room.

Is there such a thing as literary dark dirty smut? Yeah, I’d probably write that if commercial considerations went out the windowJ

Maddie:  Oh, shoot.  My son is great at movie trivia, where is he when I need him?  

Reviews, getting them good or bad are a nature of the business.  What do you think about reviews? Do you take them personally, use them as an opportunity for growth or change, or do you just get royally pissed off??

Trent: Reviews are actually a fascinating part of this gig. I can think of few other professions where you have such direct, honest, and sometimes brutal, feedback from the people you’re trying to please – the readers. I read all of my reviews, good, bad, or indifferent. I try to glean whatever useful tidbit I can from the negative ones, and send virtual warm fuzzies to the people who write the glowing ones J

I absolutely do NOT take them personally though. A review is one person’s opinion about art – that’s it. It’s not an indictment of me as a human being. It’s not my source of self-esteem, nor a reason to give up writing.

It’s just an opinion.

I have writer friends who take reviews sooo personally, and each time I hear them lament a stinging review, I tell them to check out every single classic they can think of, look them up on Amazon, and read the brutal, over the top take-downs left by readers. It’s all opinion – and one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Or in my case, one reader’s “There outta be a law against this so-called writer inflicting his verbal plague upon humanity”, is another’s “OMFG!! This awesomeness is insufficient to meet my current needs. I must have MOAR!!!”.

There is one aspect of reviews that I have some misgivings about, and that’s the importance various promotional venues currently put on the number and average rating of reviews. Though I would never even consider doing so, I know for a fact that some writers are gaming (and in some cases, paying for) “reviews”. My hope is that the promotional venues that currently seem to only have eyes for reviews, reviews, reviews! will eventually wise up about how misguided that policy really is… but I’m not holding my breathJ Until then, I’ll just keep on keepin’ on…

Maddie:  What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

Trent: I’ll put this in a little list, since I like lists:

1. The only way you can become a writer is by sitting down and writing new words. That’s also the only qualification you need to be a writerJ

2. Keep your expectations low. Your early stuff likely sucks (mine sucked too). But that’s why we practice any skill we seek to master – to get better.

3. You are the single worst judge of your own work. Full stop. Let other people read it, and see what they think. Then have the fortitude and belief in yourself to keep practicing even if they hate it.

4. Read as much as you possibly can. “The mind needs books like a sword needs a wetstone.” – Tyrion Lannister

5. Stop allowing yourself to be paralyzed by the lack of “the perfect idea” or the false belief that anything you write must be fresh, and “original”. It doesn’t – and everything has already been done anyway. Hundreds and hundreds of times.

6. Remember Item#5 above and know this: every plot and idea has already been written, but none of them have been written by YOU. At least not yetJ

7. IGNORE all the dipshits who tell you it can’t be done, or say you’re no good/foolish/stupid/delusional/[insert take down here]. Guess what? They don’t know any more than you do. Oh, and they’re wrong, tooJ

8. The only way you’ll fail at this gig, is if you quit writing. For God’s sake, whatever you do, no matter how many times you get knocked on your ass (and you will be), DO NOT QUIT. Not ever.

Maddie:  Amen, brother, to number 3 and 7.  And #2, do you go back and cringe???

There has been a lot of discussion in social media and the blogs of late about changes in the ebook industry, including difficulties with e—publishing and also the recent crack down on erotic content including titles, cover art.  How have you been affected and what do you see as the fuutre impact on authors?

Trent: I’ve definitely been hit with the dreaded Adult tag on Amazon a time or two. I think most of us probably have. Fortunately, authors collectively figured out the absurd kabuki dance that has become the current modus vivendi for publishing erotic content on the Zon. That said, things always change, and I expect the climate to become increasingly hostile for explicit content on the major e-book retailers. I wish this weren’t so, but it’s the pattern that’s developed, and I don’t see any evidence that it’s going to get better any time soon.

Explicit erotic content, while Zon likes to make money off of it, is increasingly unwelcome. It started with PI, then spread to “monster porn”, and most recently, dubious consent – one of the most beloved tropes in romance, erotic romance, and erotica. Nobody really knows why this is, but I suspect it’s for two main reasons:

1) Zon and to a lesser extent, other retailers are completely allergic to any bad press – and the last thing they want is another eruption of muck raking driven concern trolling from the internet prude freak-out du jour.

2) Google (I refer to them only half-jokingly as SkyNet) seems to get more and more strict with their search guidelines – and the only thing the mighty Zon seems to fear, is SkyNet. And for good reason.

What does that mean for erotic fiction? It means that edgy, or niche content will be increasingly discouraged, suppressed, or outright blocked from Zon. Will other retailers step up and stop the crackdown on erotic content? Maybe – but those other retailers are either dying (I’m looking at you, Nook), irrelevant (Kobo; Smashwords), or distracted (Apple and, ironically, Google Play).
So that leaves the smaller, niche players. I think smaller retailers like ARe, Blushing Books, Excitica, and the like stand to make TRUCKLOADS of money off erotic content as more and more readers understand that the major retailers are suppressing (or outright blocking) huge amounts of content they want to read. I’m a voracious reader myself, and I take an extremely dim view of anyone telling me what I should or shouldn’t be reading. As these readers grow more frustrated with the major retailers, and as the the smaller retailers improve the customer experience and ease of use, these smaller players are in a perfect position to thrive.

All other areas of entertainment are now driven by niche differentiation and marketing. Books will be no different -- and that’s a good thingJ

Maddie:  Great answer, Trent.  You've obviously delved into this deeply. Thanks for sharing your personal perspective.  

How about some fun short answers now...

Since becoming an author, I rarely have time to read (and that’s such a shame).  What are you reading right now?   

Patience – Lisa Valdez
His Lordship’s Wayward Wife – Jolynn Raymond

Maddie: Do you read outside of the genre you write?  If so, what else do you enjoy reading?

Trent: I’ll read almost anything. I love military history, epic fantasy, sci-fi, romance, and humor. I’ll even read thrillers too, when I have the stomach for it (I’m a HUGE Chelsea Cain fan boi. She’s incredible.)

Maddie:  Who is your favorite author/why?

Trent: Anneke Jacob – because she’s fearless, smart, literary, and she writes NUCLEAR FUCKING HOT erotic fiction.

Maddie:  When my face is not stuck in front of my laptop writing, I love old movies; sitting down with a big tub of buttery popcorn and a huge icy coke is the best!  Do you do have movie night?  If so what would you be watching? 

Trent:  God, this one is so tough. I love movies… but struggle to find time to watch many anymore:/ I can’t really name a favorite movie, but I could name a few of my faves (in no particular order):

American Beauty
Love, Actually
True Lies  (Loved this one,  Tom Arnold was hilarious!)
It’s A Wonderful Life
Big Trouble In Little China
Lord of The Rings Trilogy  (Ahem, revealing your nerdiness here.  That's okay, Maddie understands)

Maddie:  Do you write under a pen name?  If so, why?

Trent:  Absolutely. I don’t think there’s any reason to use your real name, unless you need that ego stroke. I don’tJ
I’m well aware that other members of my family might not want their surname associated with erotic fiction – and I respect that. So penname, it is!

Maddie:  Do your friends/family know you write erotic fiction?

Trent:  My brother and some of my friends do – and that’s probably how it’s going to stay J

Awesome interview, Trent.  The medical BDSM story sounds very hot and I'm hoping over to 1-click on the boxed set.  I'm a registered nurse, if you don't know, and I think I need more CEU's (continuing education units) for the year.  I'm sure that will count.  J  

Thanks for stopping by. Come back anytime you want to share more hot, kinky, wicked wanton action!

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Wicked Wanton Wednesday: Megan Michaels celebrates Finding Submission.

Megan Michaels returns to Wicked Wanton Wednesday.  Today, she is celebrating released day on my blog and came back to share a steamy excerpt of Finding Submission.

Oh boy, am I excited.  And I must say that Avery Beauchamp is an awesome name!

Finding Submission
by Megan Michaels


Preston Harrison is the picture of the gentleman Southern lawyer, as handsome and affable, as he was strict and precise. His ordered professional life suited him and his temperament, not a thing out of place, not an event unplanned. But he was more than a lawyer though -- he was also a Dom, and he made sure his personal life and professional life never intersected. Never that is until his world is turned upside down by one Avery Beauchamp, a stubborn, adorable, and way too sassy pocket Venus.

Being the only daughter of a respected Judge should’ve set Avery up for a life of ease, of privilege. But Avery had a habit of not doing anything she should -- she only did the things she wanted. Marching to the beat of her own (very smart-mouthed) drummer had always served the headstrong girl well… until the day she ran afoul of a little thing called the law.

A strict southern lawyer and a color-outside-the-lines misdemeanor offender should have been like oil and water. But when a Judge’s daughter finds herself on the wrong side of the law, she’s presented with a choice: a fine and possible jail time, or an alternative sentence. Preston -- against his better judgment -- finds himself agreeing to the rather unique sentence for the wayward girl: house arrest for Avery.

There was one problem for Avery though: the house where she would serve her sentence wasn’t hers -- it was Preston’s. Worse, as she learns what working for the strict Preston Harrison really means -- and how deep her own repressed desires might go -- she fears that she might lose more than her freedom to the devastatingly handsome Dom. She might lose her heart too.

Note: This BDSM erotic romance includes the following acts or themes: bare bottom spanking and other corporal punishment, D/s, explicit sexuality, anal play, and BDSM activity including kitty/pet play. If these acts or themes might be offensive to you, please do not buy this book.

In today's excerpt, Megan came loaded with wicked, wanton, sexy and kinky!   In this snippet, Avery surprises Preston beyond his expectations!

He still watched her from the cameras, and would text to let her know if a punishment was necessary.  

Today he’d asked her to surprise him when he came home.   His heart was racing, wondering how she would great him today. 

His cock was hard as he climbed the front porch, and entered the house.  As he shut the front door, he marveled again at how she had transformed the house into a beautiful historic home.  She had cleaned and organized.  And together they had filled the barn with the items labeled, priced, and sorted for an auction in a month.  
He could smell a beef roast in the oven, and if he was correct, there was a hint of apples -- which meant apple pie or apple crisp.  

“I’m in here, Sir.” Avery called from the kitchen.  He walked in, and swore his heart had stopped.  

Avery was wearing a ruffled black apron… and nothing else.  But that wasn’t what made his heart stop, although that gorgeous sight was enough all on its own.

She was resting her elbows on top of the table, her head down, ass in the air. 

“Sir, would you be interested in an appetizer before dinner, or do you want to go to the main course?”  She didn’t raise her head or look him in the eye, just rested submissively. 

“My God, Avery Rose, I’m not sure I can breathe.  You definitely surprised me.  Jesus.  Let me get my bearings for a second.”  Preston slid his finger down the crevice of her bottom, circling her dark hole when he glided over it.  He pressed and circled, watching her fight the need to swivel her hips.   He teased her by pushing his finger into her bottom hole just a little and then pulled out.  He continued his glide down the cleft.  She was dripping wet.  

"My God, Avery I hope you didn’t sit on these chairs __ you’d ruin the upholstery. It’s a wonder there isn’t a puddle on the table, sweetheart.”

And that wasn’t the only surprise she had for Preston…….

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