Wednesday, January 29, 2014

I'm Not the Same Girl I Used to Be

Did spanking give me confidence?

This is the question I have been asking myself for the past week.

I never thought of myself as someone who lacked confidence. Yes, I have always wanted people to like me. I have always been nervous meeting new people. But that's just normal human stuff, right? I never thought of myself as needing more confidence. I am hardly a doormat and never have been.

One of my friends on facebook created a private group for my graduating college class- ten years later. 

So began the thread- "What have you all been up to?" What have I been up to?

Suddenly I am sent back in time to a younger, earlier version of myself where my palms are sweating and I am trying to think of the right way to answer this question because these people are judging me. They ARE judging me!

Then present version of me says to younger version of me, "They aren't judging you, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, you have a damn good life."

Facebook stalking my former classmates and reading their banter back and forth hurtled me back in time. I am embarrassed to say I was always trying so hard to get them to like me. To the point where I don't really think I was even being me.

I mentioned this to my husband. Something to the effect of- I don't think these people would even know me anymore, I think I changed a lot.

Do you know what he said, he is so wise, "Of course you changed. That was ten years ago. Who hasn't changed in ten years?"

Then I asked him how he thinks I have changed specifically. I wasn't sure if he would answer, even to my ears it sounded like a possible trap question. But I don't ask questions unless I want honest answers and he knows that about me by now. So he thought about it for a minute or two and then he said:

"You're way more confident."

Surprise- I am? 

"Yeah, and much happier."

Interesting. What could be making me so much more confident and happy? What are the things in my life that have changed in the past ten years?

Really, my husband was talking more about the last year. So even from a year ago at this point he thinks I am way more confident and happy.

Which is weird because I always considered myself a confident and happy person, but I guess now I am even more so.

So what is the change?

My husband says writing. It makes sense. It's a creative outlet, I write almost everyday. Before I dabbled here and there but never really gave myself the time, now I do.

I go back to: Is it the spanking?

Okay, maybe not the actual act of spanking (although, that does make me pretty damn happy).

But knowing what I like and having those needs met? Maybe it's the whole community that comes along with it.

Weird, that I found myself under a pen name. There's some food for thought.

I used to be under the impression that I bloomed in college, looking back now, I know I was wrong. I think I am blossoming now, ten years later, and I don't know if I am done yet.

Monday, January 20, 2014

What's In a Name?

I wouldn't call myself a veteran writer. But I do have two books out and a few in the works right now. I feel like this is enough experience for me to bitch about something I find to be the most annoying, awful, impossible, and utterly important thing about writing. Finding a damn title.

I would love to think it doesn't matter. Sometimes I think I genuinely do not care what a book is titled.

If I have read a book by an author and enjoyed it, I will read another. Regardless of title or book cover, sometimes I don't even read the blurb. Oh, it's the latest by so and so? I will pick it up.

There have been times I wished I could just title my books:

Please Read This One It Took Me A Long Time to Write It

Spankings and Sex

A Happy Ending, No Creepy Characters!

It's hard to think up a title that will hook a reader, or at the very least not drive a reader away.

I feel I have become more conscious of this now that I am writing and titling my own books.

Which leads me to a point I think I discovered a week or two ago. A vague title that doesn't really label a book in one way or another is probably better than a completely misdirected title.

Here is what happened-

I read a lot of spanking romances (shocking, I know). I was feeling like reading something with a different flavor. Maybe slightly more BDSM-y. But not weird, dark and creepy. Sometimes I pick up a straight up BDSM book and it has a tendency to scare me rather than make me hot, you know? No fault of the author's, just different tastes for different people.

Anyway, I was feeling a little burnt out on the saccharine/ sweet spanking romances I have been reading by the boat load. Sometimes I like a little bondage, nipple clamps, kidnap scenario or a heavier D/s relationship to go along with the spanking.

I search through the Kindle store and find a book in the BDSM genre, the title did reel me in a bit. Then I read the blurb and some reviews just to make sure it wasn't going to be on the scary side as opposed to the romance side.

I won't say what the actual title of the book was because I don't want to seem like I am calling someone out. The fact is I LOVED the book. I just think it was a terrible title.

For argument's sake let's say it was called The Master's Lair - the title kind of hooked me in, and then I read the blurb and reviews, it sounded like a BDSM heavy romance. I wanted to give it a try!

Based on title here is what I thought I was going to read:
A BDSM romance, where there is a Master, who also has a Lair. And there is a girl that he takes to said lair and lots of kinky shit happens.

Here is what a read:
A really sweet romance between this regular guy, who also happens to be a Dom at a BDSM club. And a woman with a troubled past.

They barely went to the 'lair', there was hardly any kinky shit, the book did not live up to it's to title.

But do you know what? It was a great book! I was annoyed at the title for two reasons.

1. I would never have picked this book up if I wasn't specifically looking for something different. It turned out to be very much the same of what I have been reading, but it was an awesome book all the same.

2. I am afraid that readers who normally read more from the BDSM genre will be annoyed when they read this book and it is not what they expected.

Although, judging by the amount of reviews, and specifically the amount of good reviews, that doesn't seem to be an issue.

It will make me more mindful to not have a misleading title.

Although I don't think it will make choosing titles for future books any easier. In fact it will probably make it a lot harder.

Anyone looking forward to my upcoming release Blood, Sweat, and Tears: the Extended Version?

Friday, January 17, 2014

Sexy Architects and a Real Life HEA

Welcome to this month's edition of Spanking Romance Reviews' Round Table Discussion. This time we are talking Fantasy vs. Reality

I was debating how to go about this post. I do this fun thing with my friend Natasha Knight (well, I think it's fun, she may just think I'm nuts) where I email her and say “Yay, got kinky this weekend!” and then she says “Details??” and I say “Real? Or romance novel version?” And then I give her both anyway.

It's sort of like this.

We were watching a movie and he just reached across the couch and grabbed me. Pulled me over his lap and gave me a hot spanking. He didn't stop until I was writhing and begging him and promising sexual favors. Then he whisked me up to the bedroom where he promptly took care of all of my sexual needs.

Real Life:
We were falling asleep on the couch. He asked me if he should turn on that cable porn movie he recorded. Should we fool around tonight or just go to sleep? Oh, it's only 9:30. Okay, we have time. We start watching cable porno, lots of boobs, I am criticizing all the acting. He looks like he is falling asleep. I start removing clothes to speed this process along. He asks if I want some spanking action- why is he asking? Answer is yes, always, always yes.
We start, the cat jumps on me. It's weird. We head upstairs, lock out cats. The spanking was short, could have been longer, but was still hot!! Fun was had by all.

Really you can romanticize anything. I am just cutting out the real life unromantic stuff that everyone deals with and doesn't want to hear about. (I do blog about it though, because sometimes real life is too funny not to share.)

I think it's okay to have a good dose of fantasy, as long as you are not resenting your real life because it doesn't live up to your fantasies.

As a kid brought up on ½ hour sitcoms and Disney-ized fairy tales it would have been easy to have unrealistic expectations for real life. As an adult who frequents romantic comedies and reads (and writes) novels that all have Happily Ever Afters, it's easy to get deluded.

Upon returning home from her Honeymoon a friend of mine told me she had read the Nicholas Sparks book Dear, John while her and her husband of two days were sunning themselves in the Caribbean. Upon finishing, she picked a fight with her new husband because he 'never does romantic things'. I brought up the point that she was reading a work of fiction and it really wasn't fair to expect someone to act like a character from a romance novel. She said she realized that in the back of her mind, but the fantasy seemed so real to her she was just feeling shortchanged at the time.

If I think back to my girlhood fantasies about what my life would be like when I was older, I can end up being very disappointed. I didn't marry an architect (aren't all the guys in rom coms sexy architects?), I don't have a cool and trendy job, I don't live in a cute house in an adorable neighborhood somewhere.

But here is the reality- I am married to a guy I am head over heels for. He thinks I'm funny and beautiful (I know because he tells me these things). I hate my day job, but I started self-publishing spanking romance novels (that is pretty cool). The cute house in an adorable neighborhood is something we can work on, for now our outdated townhouse works just fine.

It's nice when the lines of reality and fantasy become a little blurred. And if my life is not living up to my fantasy expectations? I can just write a book where everything does.

Make sure to visit the rest of the Round Table peeps! Thanks for stopping by!

Monday, January 13, 2014

Renee Rose is Drunk!

She posted an awesome review of my book Cursed Waters on her blog today.

You can read it here.

She also has all sorts of kind words to say about me. At which I am floored, super excited, and very thankful- but in all seriousness Renee, lay of the sauce.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Left to My Own Devices

This is my story about something that occurred this past weekend... and the shenanigans I get into when I am left alone:

I think I am suffering from the Winter Lazies. There is such a thing as Spring Fever and I am saying right now that I am pretty sure the Winter Lazies are real. I would much rather lay on the couch, under a blanket with a book or my laptop, instead of doing- well, pretty much anything.

This past weekend Mr. McKay went to a football game (it was a playoff game, it did not end well for our team- we are not speaking of it anymore). He left early to do the whole tailgating thing so I was left with an entire day of uninterrupted 'me time'. So many things I wanted to do. I was going to write, write so much! Then I was going to take down the Christmas decorations, put away our gifts that are still laying under the tree, and clean. 

I started off alright. I did write a bit. Then I decided to reward myself with a new book. Then I got under the new comfy throw on the couch, a few cats found me, and I read... for three and a half hours. I spent the better part of the afternoon laying on the couch doing nothing, and it was GLORIOUS! But the thing is, I was reading some spanking fiction. I had read 60% of the book I downloaded, and to say it worked me up a bit would be putting it mildly.

I didn't want to waste the rest of my day, so I decided there were some things I should take care of before I got on to my chores. I went upstairs. I found the new 'massager' I got for Christmas from my awesome husband. And I decided to really have some quality 'me time'.

Side note: we had used this thing twice since Christmas, neither time was I the one holding it, so I didn't realize how heavy it was.

I am laying on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position to hold this thing and put it where I want. It starts feeling great, so great, I am not moving it from whatever spot I hit. I add my other hand- I'm not even really thinking, I am just doing what feels right and--- holy crap, I think I peed!

I leap off the bed, there is definitely moisture, but no, not pee. Shit! I think I just squirted. 

My momentary elation is flooded with guilt. You do not understand the mission my husband has been on to try to make me squirt. I really don't understand the appeal. He has been trying to make it happen for so long now I was just sure it would never happen. In fact, one of his selling features of this 'massager' he gave me was that some online reviews said if you wanted to squirt this was the way to do it.

Well, they were right... but I don't think I was supposed to be alone.

And the kicker is, I don't even remember how the orgasm was because I was so distracted by the aftermath.

Then came my dilemma. I can't NOT tell him. First of all, I am a terrible liar. Secondly, we share everything. And thirdly, how was I going to explain how the skin got scraped off my knuckle of my thumb?

Oh yeah, did I forget that part? I guess when I was trying to find the right way to hold the thing, and get it at the right angle, I jammed my thumb into some moving part. But was so distracted by the- erm- vibrations, that I didn't realize I was peeling the skin off my thumb. 

He got home very late, and very grumpy. We didn't talk until the next day. I recounted all events. I showed him the injury to my thumb. I made sure to tell him how awesome his selection of Christmas gifts were. He did such great research! He is the best for always thinking of me! Oh and by the way I squirted.

What? Did I say something? Why? Do you think you heard me say something?

A few hours later I am laying face down over the bed. We've decided I should have the butt plug in for the rest of the night. We've also decided we are going to spank me until I really beg for it to please, stop already. (Only that never happens, so it went on for a while and it was so so so incredibly awesome/stingy/too much/just what I needed.) I also think if it were possible to die from having multiple orgasms- someone would be writing a really nice (hopefully) eulogy about me right now.

But alas, there was no squirting, so the mission continues. 

To end this story, I would like you to know I am writing this in the glow of my Christmas tree, which is still up, along with the stockings. The Winter Lazies are in the full effect-- someone should promise to spank me if I un-decorate.

Here is the site for the magic device. Click Here

Monday, January 6, 2014

Winner Announcements and Eye Candy!

I hope everyone got a chance to stop by the Winter Spanks Hop this weekend!!

If you didn't- the posts are still up and some of the stories are super steamy, go check them out!

First, I am announcing the winners from my own blog:

Ash and Kfemme- you each won a $5 amazon giftcard. I will email you shortly :)

For a list of the grand prize winners, click here.

Business out of the way, now for the fun part. I asked you commenters what Hollywood Heartthrob you would like to be spanked by, or you would like to spank.

You guys came up with 51 different people you would like to be spanked by.

Only 2 that you would like to spank (apparently there are a lot of people who prefer getting spanked rather than giving who visit my blog).

Gerard Butler came in a definite lead with 6 people begging to have their bottoms whacked by this hottie.

I think he's massaging his hand after he just taught you all a lesson...

Hot on his heels was Sean Connery:

A few people said young or old. I prefer young- and in bed, waiting :)

Clark Gable, Sam Elliot, Johnny Depp and Channing Tatum were all tied at 4 each.

I will admit. There were three or four names I had to look up, but it was worth it :)

The top reason for listing particular actors (or singer, in Natasha's case- rule breaker) was voice. We like a deep voice, sometimes with an accent, to chastise us while we're being punished.

Amen to that!

Now you are all winners, you got some eye candy. It was very hard for me to look these pictures up. I hope you appreciate the time I spent searching for exactly the right ones...  ;)

Thanks again for playing in the first ever Winter Spanks Hop. The posts are still up, so go visit the ones you didn't get to. I know I still have a few to hit! The contest is over, but the posts are still hot!

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Mac's Winter Spanking

     Luke let himself into the apartment. It was flooded with light and sound, but that was normal now that he lived with Mac. She seemed to switch on everything in one room and then exit to the next without turning anything off. The television was on in the living room, along with all of the lights. He could hear music playing in the kitchen and the sounds of her talking on the phone. She was cooking, he paused to sniff, no, she was burning something. He didn't care, he was starving and tired and he missed her.
     He placed his suitcase next to the couch and looked around. The apartment was freshly cleaned, she'd even put all the Christmas decorations away. Cleaning was not one of Mac's favorite things to do. Before catching his flight back to New York from LA he was treated to some salacious pictures on a tabloid website of his errant fiancee. He did not approve of public displays of intoxication, like dancing on tables. He guessed the tidied apartment and home cooked meal was supposed to get her back into his good graces.
     He walked into the kitchen. She couldn't hear him approach over the music. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, placing a kiss on the top of her head. She let out a startled shriek, then giggled and swatted him away, saying goodbye to the person on the phone.
      “You scared me half to death!” She was still laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling her body close to his.
     “Sorry.” He leaned down and kissed her. He peeked past her at the pots bubbling on the stove. The counters were covered in cutting boards and spices. “What are you making?”

     “Arrgh,”she moaned. She flipped a spoon into the sink. “It started out as one thing, seriously though, thirty minute meal my ass! It took me thirty minutes to chop the freaking vegetables.”

     He leaned against the counter and listened as Mac continued her tirade about cooking times and burning cream sauces. He scooted her onto a stool at the kitchen island and began completing what she started, cleaning as he went. He opened them both a beer and shrugged off her protests that she had been trying to cook for him. If he wanted any chance at a meal that wasn't over cooked, he was smart to finish it himself.
     “You did all the hard stuff, babe. You know I hate chopping. Tell me about your day, I was cooped up on a plane all day.”
She smiled back at him and settled onto the stool, more than happy to talk rather than cook.

     Within minutes he had them tucked into some sort of pasta dish with vegetables and a light sauce. He didn't know what her original intention had been but he made them an edible dish.

     “You cleaned up. The apartment looks good,” he said between bites.
A blush crept across her cheeks and it confirmed his suspicion that she had been cleaning right up until he walked through the door. The scent of lemon pledge still hung in the air. His girl was nothing if not last minute.

     “Thanks.” She pushed her vegetables around on her plate.

     “What?” He put his fork down and picked up his beer, waiting for Mac to spill what she had on her mind.

     “I just changed my mind about writing last night. So it was my own decision and you shouldn't be upset and I think there should not be any spanking.”

     He couldn't hold in the laugh that bubbled up.

     “Stop laughing at me.” She folded her arms and glared at him.

     He took a deep breath and tried his best, but he started laughing again. Until a piece of Italian bread bounced off his head. He looked up to find Mac with a self satisfied smirk on her face.

     “You're not laughing now.”

     “Don't throw food. What are you, three?”

     She opened her mouth, already forming a snotty retort, he was sure, but she stopped when he stood up. Luke picked up his plate and walked it to the sink, he turned back and pointed at the bread on the floor.

     “Pick it up.”

     “You pick it up.” She put her hands flat on the table as if she were readying herself to run. He was in no mood for games tonight, she was torquing him up on purpose and he wasn't sure why.

     “I'm going to take a shower. Finish your dinner and come get ready for bed.”

      “What? It's early and I'm not tired.”

     “Molly.” He said her name as a warning.

     She narrowed her eyes at him but didn't respond as he walked past her towards the bedroom.

* * *
     Mac sat on the bed and pulled the comforter up around her bare legs. She just had one of Luke's t-shirts on, ready for bed as requested. She had lingered cleaning up in the kitchen as long as she could. But when she heard the shower switch off she bolted into the bedroom and shed her clothes. Now she sat waiting. What was taking him so long?

     She should have brought a book with her. Something to occupy her while she waited. She debated running into the living room for some reading material, but just then the bathroom door clicked open. Luke emerged in a cloud of steam. He had on a gray t-shirt and some black sweatpants. But the man looked delicious in everything he wore.

     He came over and pulled her up out of the bed. She shivered against the cool air in the room. He pulled the t-shirt over her head and then pulled her against him, running his hands up and down her body. She reached up and found his lips with hers, she wound her arms up around his neck but he stepped back. He glanced down at her underwear and his lips quirked in a smile.

     “What are those?”

     “It's Wonder Woman.” She smiled at him.

     “So I see.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Take them off.”

     “Luke!” She had the urge to stomp her foot.

     He raised his eyebrows at her in response. She could tell his patience were thin. He must be tired, and this did not bode well for her argument. She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her panties and slid them down her legs.
She shivered as his eyes raked over her body. She reflexively crossed her arms over her hardened nipples. He was dressed and she was naked, it always did something to her, a familiar heat built up. She didn't have much time to think about it because he pulled her in and flipped her across his thigh, resting her upper body on the bed. He got two hard smacks in before she found her voice.

     “Wait, stop!”

     Thankfully he paused, that normally didn't work. She scrambled for something to say.

     “I thought we were going to talk.”

     “We are.” A simple matter of fact answer followed by a set of smacks to her sit spots.

     She clawed at the comforter and uselessly tried to dodge the smacks. Did the man not understand what a warm up was? She was having a hard time keeping herself still. He stopped and rubbed the same spots he had just been punishing.

     “So let's talk.”

     She popped her head up at this and tried to push herself up. 

     He pushed her back down, “No, you stay there.”

     She huffed out a breath, she knew what this kind of 'talk' was.

     “What did you promise me when I was leaving?”

     Oh an easy question, she could do this, “That I would clean up the apartment.”

      “And you did a really good job. What else?”

     Now it got harder, “Um, that I would stay on my writing schedule.”

     “Did you?”

     “Sort of.”

     His hand smacked down on her right cheek and left a sting in it's wake. “Want to try again?”

     He laid the same stinger down on her left cheek and she cried out.

     “Okay, no, I didn't.”

     He spanked her six more times, alternating back and forth.

     “I'm allowed to change my mind, that was my own goal and I don't think you should spank me for it. I decided to stay out with Daisy, I can do that if I want to.” She sounded like a petulant child even to her own ears. She should just stop talking.

     “Oh yes, you're night out.” He spoke slowly as he caressed her naked butt. There was a touch of humor in his voice. He was enjoying this. “Let me ask you a question. Should I have to open up my computer to find pictures of my fiancee drunk table dancing?”

     She wasn't answering. She had four snappy comebacks floating around in her head and she didn't trust what would fly out if she opened her mouth. He was going to spank her no matter what she said anyway.

     He gave her two quick slaps to the backs of her thighs and she danced up on her toes.

     Nope, her lips were sealed.

     Luke slid his hand between her legs and she tensed, when his finger found the wetness between her thighs she groaned. He slowly trailed his finger along her and she writhed over his lap.

     “I asked you a question.”

     His hand was gone and she felt him pulling her cheeks apart. She jumped when she felt his finger, slicked in her own wetness, prodding at her anus.
He pushed his finger into her and she felt him up to his knuckle. “Ahh,” she moaned and lifted her head from the mattress.

     “Should I have to see that?”

     He pumped his finger in and out as he gave her smart slaps with his left hand, his non-spanking hand, so they were lighter in intensity. Her whole body felt warm from the fire he was building on her ass. She felt his hand between her legs again and he flicked her clit while he pumped his finger again.
She groaned and shifted her hips, wanting him to help her find a release.

     “Answer the question.”

     “No.” She breathed out. “You shouldn't have to see that.”

     He pulled his finger out and slid out from under her, so she was laying over the side of the bed. She heard the rustle of his clothes and then he smacked her ass, hard. She heard him slide the drawer in the night stand open. The click of the top on the bottle of lube and then he was pushing himself into her. She cried out in pleasure, feeling suddenly too full, his erection pushing past her tight ring. His hand came down and worked her clit. She arched her back, lifting herself to him, taking all of him in.

     He steadied himself with a hand on her hip, thrusting into her with an urgency she hadn't seen coming. She came in a frenzy, all of her emotions cresting, she felt tears running down her face.

     Luke collapsed onto her back, he kissed the side of her neck. “The next time you're dancing on a table it better be a private show.” He brushed her hair back from her face and turned her head to look at him. “For me.” As if she needed the clarification.

     Later still, Mac was freshly showered and snuggling into bed in Luke's arms. She was happy they had reconnected and he wasn't actually angry with her. She was just drifting off to sleep when she was jostled in his arms. He reached over her and slid the nightstand drawer open. He rummaged for a few seconds then plunked the little wooden paddle on top of the nightstand. He slid the drawer closed and settled back in.

     “Um, what's that for?”

     He pulled her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Tomorrow. I think we need to have a talk about throwing food.”

     Mac's eyes widened as she was rocked by Luke's deep chuckle.