First Draft writing woes


(Since I have had a rough week of what I call my “first draft writing woes”, I decided to interview myself, and see if I could talk my way back into some forward action. My male character, the hunky, dominating coach from my current work in progress, came by to help) ;)


First draft woes –

An interview with Coach Jonathan from “Redemption” (Katherine’s current WIP)


Katherine Deane: Thanks for coming by today, Jonathan. I’m having a really tough time with your story, and since you are a coach and trainer for elite athletes, I was hoping you could help me talk out my issues.

Coach Jonathan: I’m happy to help, Katherine. What seems to be the problem?

Katherine Deane: The first draft sucks! It sucks worse than rotten eggs from a Chinese restaurant’s dumpster – after a week of sitting in the hot sun!

Coach Jonathan: Nice analogy. I can almost smell it, based on that vivid description. Are you doing that in your writing?

Katherine Deane: Noooo. (Groans and covers her head) I’ve pretty much just written out everything from my original plan and character arc sheets.

Coach Jonathan: Foundation building, got it.

Katherine Deane: Aren’t you listening to me? It sucks! It’s terrible. I keep hyperventilating every time I try to read through it. (Wraps arms around her chest and sighs pitifully.) I just want to curl into a ball and go read someone else’s awesome story.

Coach Jonathan: (strides over and pushes her down over desk, and lays rapid swats across her bottom.)

Katherine Deane: Ow, ow, ow. What are you doing? Stop! That hurts.

Coach Jonathan: Are you ready to stop the pity party and listen to me?

Katherine Deane: Yes, coach. (Rubs her bottom and winces as she sits back down)

Coach Jonathan: You’re a runner, right? You used to compete a lot before having your children, correct?

Katherine Deane: Yes.

Coach Jonathan: Did you just decide one day, “Hey I’m going to go out for a run today, and see if I can qualify for the military world cross country championships, and then qualify for the Olympic Trials in the Marathon”?

Katherine Deane: No. That’s ridiculous. I put a ton of base building, strength training, and miles under my belt before I could even try something that difficult. It was a lot of work.

Coach Jonathan: Did you roll into a ball, and watch your favorite runners do their thing, instead? Did you give up?

Katherine Deane: No, sir! I am not a quitter!

Coach Jonathan: What did you do, sweetheart?

Katherine Deane: I created you, and you damn well know I hate being called words like that. Don’t call me “Sweetheart”. And in answer to your question, I worked my ass off every day, until I achieved my goal.

Coach Jonathan: There’s the fire I was looking for. (Winks and gives a huge smile with perfectly white teeth). You know how to build a foundation. You know it’s not going to be easy. And as you have just demonstrated, you are not a quitter. So what are you going to do now?

Katherine Deane: Um, remind myself that it’s first draft, and it’s supposed to suck?

Coach Jonathan: (nods)

Katherine Deane: Keep going; fix what I can; ask for a friend to read it through and give suggestions…

Coach Jonathan: And?

Katherine Deane: (stands and pulls herself to her full five foot two height and glares at him) I’m going to finish your story, and people are going to love Wren, and swoon over you and your dominating ways.

Coach Jonathan: Good girl. Remember, it’s just a foundation. You continue to build from there. I know you can do it. (Gives her a hug) But if you need any more incentive, let me know. I have a paddle, Benwa balls, ginger root, and a lot of experience motivating little rebels who need an extra push.

Katherine Deane: Thanks. I needed that. Okay, you get back to training Wren. I want her ready for the big gymnastics circuit next week.

Coach Jonathan: My little rebel was born ready. Keep up the great work. (Smiles and walks out Katherine’s office)

Katherine Deane: (winces as her bottom rubs against her not cushioned enough, office chair)  I have got to stop giving my heroes such hard, paddle like hands.

All right, first draft, let’s see what we can do with you…

*** (Thanks for stopping by!) *** :)


calvin first draft


beautiful poem



ernest hemingway first draft quote


mobydick first draft


sand castle quote


shit rough drafts hemingway












“I’m going to undress you and put you to bed.” – Jaye Peaches visits

Jaye Peaches is visiting today, and sharing her sexy new story with us!  Did you see the cover? It is magnificent. It combines two of my favorite things – eroticism and good wine. Come on, who else loves a great glass of wine? Yep, I’m hooked, and can’t wait to read this one, especially after the scene from below. Here’s Jaye :)


Hello Katherine and thank you for the chance to share my latest book – Indulge Me

This story is something of a sensory journey for the lead characters, not just in their love of wine, but along a path of erotic exploration. Gideon has up to now treated Saffron to fun erotic games. Not tonight. She’s had too much alcohol and he’s had to bring a different side of him, one she’s not seen before – the dominant.


“Let’s get you upstairs to bed.” He propelled her out of the room and back towards the stairs.

“Ooh, yes, bed.” She tripped on the first step in her excitement. Gideon maintained a tight grip on her elbow and steadied Saffron as she climbed the stairs.

“I don’t understand,” she mumbled. “I didn’t have that much alcohol.”

“You’re used to spitting.”

“I can hold my drink. I’ll have you know,” She pivoted at the top. “Last weekend, I drank at least a bottle on my own.” She regretted the indignant aside the moment she’d said it. She sounded like a piss artist, somebody who drank at every opportunity, as if to make up for the compulsory sobriety at work.

He didn’t comment and directed her towards a door. Another rather plain room with a wardrobe, chest of drawers, a bed and en-suite bathroom.

The walls were horrendously bare, just like downstairs. She loved pictures and covered the walls of her rooms with photographs she’d taken: Tuscan landscapes, snow clad Alps or the mountains of New Zealand. She sometimes treated herself to paintings, paying a small fortune for luxury of paint rather than print. Gideon’s plain interior troubled her, probably because pictures would have helped shown Saffron his tastes and provide more insights into his psyche.

“This place isn’t really mine,” said Gideon.

He’d been watching her, seen something on her face—an expression she’d pulled?—she wasn’t aware of it, but as she was discovering, Gideon didn’t require overt clues in order to read her thoughts. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, struggling to ignore the weight of her heavy eyelids.

Gideon pointed at the bed. “Why don’t you sit before you fall over?”

She plonked her weary body on the edge of the mattress. “I am tired,” she declared in an emphatic tone. “Being tipsy and tired does make me seem drunk.”

“Of course.” Gideon raised an eyebrow and smirked.

She patted the bed next to her. “Here, there’s room for two.” The double bed occupied a large portion of the room, but it wasn’t king size. It didn’t look queen sized, either. “It will be cosy,” she added.

“I’m sleeping on the armchair downstairs.” He stepped away.

Loosening her jaw, her mouth dropped open. “No.” She blinked, squeezing her bleary eyes tight together before opening them again. “I’ve been waiting since—”

“You can wait a little longer, Saffron. I don’t bed intoxicated women.”

She deflated—her shoulders sagged and she hung her head with obvious disappointment. Amongst her so-called intoxication, she discerned the tingling sensation lurking in her loins. “You gave me the fucking wine,” she grumbled and kicked her high heels against the divan.

“To enjoy. And don’t swear.” He seemed cross. He clawed at the knot in his tie and loosened it, then unbuttoned his waistcoat.

Her hopes raised—he was reconsidering! She leaned back on her elbows and parted her knees, just enough to show the tops of her stockings. “And now I want something else to enjoy.” She fluttered her eyelashes.

Gideon crouched by her feet, lifted the heel of one foot and undid the strap. Her pulse rate shot up. “Yes, oh, yes.” Undress me!

“I don’t fuck women who are not in a fit state to give consent.” He looked up at her with those bottomless pit eyes, so black and deep—such a stern gaze. Annoyed at his assumption she was unfit to know her own mind, she snatched her foot out of his grip, and the shoe came way in his hand.

Gideon sighed, puffing out his lips. “Your petulance is only helping you lose this argument. This is not the girl I licked wine off on Wednesday, is it?”

God, he sounds just like Dad. “No,” she snapped. “She’s a little pissed off.”

“Pissed, but not off,” he added swiftly. He tugged on the other shoe. “I’m going to undress you and put you to bed.” He placed her high heels neatly side by side. It reflected something else about the house—it was spick and span, devoid of clutter and unnecessary objects. Gideon was fastidious in everything he did.

She collapsed back on the bed, covered her face with her hands and groaned. The change in position triggered another wave of dizziness. Perhaps, he was right. It had been a hectic week, another late night and her tolerance for alcohol had dropped significantly. She unmasked her face to find Gideon leaning over her.

“Sweetheart, there is tomorrow, be patient.” He lowered his lips and kissed her.



indulge me_jaye peaches



She sees him once.

He’s standing across the wine cellar watching her when their eyes meet. Miles away from home in California’s Napa Valley, she’s caught in his gaze. Though, neither one speaks, for a moment the rest of the world falls away, and she sends him a smile.

She sees him again.

Back home in England. Is it the same man? In the middle of a crowded wine fair, she spots him. A smile of recognition, but no words exchanged. She shakes it off, the same line of business, the same events, it’s a small world.

The third is no coincidence.

She’s running a private tasting and in walks her mystery man, dressed in a fine suit. What does she really know about him other than they share a love of wine? She’s intrigued, even more so when she discovers he has sought her out. When he invites her to a private session in a wine cellar, deep underneath a castle, she begins to uncover his secrets.

Saffron surrenders her body and embarks on an indulgent journey with the attractive sommelier, Gideon. As a wine taster, Saffron continually uses her senses to carve out a successful career, driving her to the peak of her profession. However, when Gideon leads her on an erotic adventure fueled by passion and self-discovery, she’s startled to learn that she’s been living her life ignorant of sensory pleasures that require other talents, ones she’d never explored with her previous, disastrous lover. That man, who envies her success, is waiting to strike back and destroy everything she has achieved.


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Exploring the world of BDSM and romantic kinky lifestyles has been a passion of Jaye Peaches – to portray the desires beyond the erotic sexual encounters and unearth the personalities that lie beneath. Having written short stories and read many books, she issued a challenge to herself and decided to write her own novels of Domination and submission.

When not writing, Jaye is busy spending time with her family, enjoying music, sometimes composing or drawing and if the weather allows, gardening.


Jaye lives in NW England.


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“Are you sure it will fit?” – from Kelly Dawson’s The Ways of the West

I am so glad Kelly Dawson dropped by with her new book, The Ways of the West. It’s an erotic romance set in old western times, which means- woohoo! hot cowboys! Not only is she sharing an excerpt, but she also brought one of the best lines in an excerpt. Hehe, it tickled me.  :)



Jessica was enjoying watching the shocked, but delighted, expression on Johnny’s face as she stepped out of the borrowed dress to reveal short, sexy drawers that had been the height of fashion back home in Boston, but which were still considered scandalous among decent company. She left the gown and petticoats in a puddle on the floor at her feet and shimmied out of her undergarments, standing completely naked before him in the dim glow cast by the lantern on the table by the bed. She’d never been naked in front of a man before but the excitement of the wedding was making her brave.

Johnny whistled softly through his teeth, stepping forward to place his hands gently on her waist, drawing her into him. “You are beautiful,” he whispered into her hair.

Jessica’s hands went to the front of Johnny’s pants where she urgently fumbled with the buttons with clumsy fingers. She wanted him naked, too. Groaning in frustration at the tight buttons that wouldn’t come undone, she moved her fingers to his chest, undoing his shirt instead. These buttons opened easily and she trailed her fingers inside his shirt, along the hard muscles of his chest. Pushing the shirt back off his shoulders she brushed her lips against the light smattering of hair she found there, pulling his shirt off completely and discarding it carelessly on top of her own pile of clothing.

“Here, let me,” Johnny murmured, brushing her hands away from his jeans, undoing them for her. She gasped when his erection sprang free, then reached out to touch it gingerly.

“It’s so big,” she breathed. “Are you sure it will fit?”


Orphaned by an attack on her family’s wagon train, Jessica finds herself stranded a thousand miles from Boston, the only home she has ever known. Only one man—a rough, dusty cowboy named Johnny—stands between her and the perils of the west, and he quickly makes it clear that he is ready to do whatever needs to be done to keep Jessica safe, whether she likes it or not.

When the unlikely pair stumble upon a cattle drive and they are both offered employment, Johnny doesn’t hesitate to accept. But after Jessica loudly expresses her disdain for his plan and for cowboys in general, Johnny decides it is time for drastic action. After a hard, embarrassing spanking followed by a tearful apology to the trail boss, Jessica is left with a sore backside and a strange yet undeniably powerful need to be held close and comforted by her handsome protector.

With Johnny by her side—and claiming an ever bigger place in her heart with each passing day—Jessica begins to adjust to life on the trail. But a cattle drive is a dangerous place for anyone, let alone a city girl with a penchant for disobedience. If he ever wants the chance to make Jessica his wife, Johnny knows he’s going to have to take her firmly in hand before she gets herself hurt or killed. Even if it means a painful, humiliating bare-bottom strapping she’ll never forget, one way or another he’ll teach her the ways of the west.

Publisher’s Note: The Ways of the West is an erotic romance novel that contains sexual scenes and spankings, including domestic discipline in a historical setting. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy Links:

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All Romance Ebooks Buy Link

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The Ways of the West


A few questions for Kelly Dawson :

Are you like any of your heroines?

Parts of me are, yes. Both mostly, my heroines are a mix of myself, people I know, and the completely made-up.


Tell us about a unique or quirky habit of yours

I have Tourette’s Syndrome. So while the strange things I do aren’t exactly habits, it looks like they are. Other than my visible tics, I have to peg all my washing on the line using colour-co-ordinated pegs, and things must be hung up a certain way. If anyone helps me hang out the washing it drives me insane, because I’m going along after them, “fixing” it all LOL.


If you could eliminate one thing from your daily schedule, what would it be and why?

Washing dishes. Self-explanatory really! – I hate washing dishes – they’re never ending!

Author Bio: Kelly Dawson loves anything to do with horses, rodeos and cowboys, and loves to get lost in a good book – preferably a rural romance where a strong woman falls in love with a ruggedly-handsome, tough but gentle cowboy, and these are the types of characters who feature in the stories she writes. Only in Kelly’s books, the cowboys are even better because they spank! She lives literally at the bottom of the world in the South Island of New Zealand, with her husband, four kids, a dog and a cat.

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What anniversary? More laughs from the personal side

I’m trying something new – a post from the car. Since we are on the road for the next few hours, hubby said I could play with my blog for a bit. I think that is his nice way of saying I have talked enough for the past twenty minutes. ;)

So.It’s our anniversary. Guess who forgot again?

Lol, both of us. Here’s what happened:

Hubby was in the shower while I did my quick social media check in this morning. Then I noticed the date. A few moments of puzzling, and why was this so familiar, and I had it.

Gah! It’s our anniversary. We forgot– again!

Honestly, we must be the flakiest people in the world. I know school, kids, work, and life have us busy. But still…

I quickly got out a water glass and my etching thing (I don’t know what it’s called).

I etched the words:

  • Love
  • Honor
  • Lead
  • Cherish

Followed by today’s date.

I handed it to him, explaining it was special water.

Hehe, he sniffed it first.  (He knows I like to pull pranks.) Then he thanked me for the water.

Since he didn’t notice the words, I had my younger daughter ask him about the words on the glass.

“Oh how nice. Mommy made us a special glass for some reason,” he said.

Seriously? Snort. Time to pull out the big guns.

I had my older daughter go in and ask him what today’s date was. He replied with today’s date, and went about his business (looking for matching socks is an adventure in our house).

I was about to have my younger daughter ask him when our anniversary was, when he finally got it.

His loud, “ohhhhh!” Followed by a thump as he fell on the floor laughing. Daughters chose that point to monkey pile on his back.

He laughed so hard he almost teared up.

Our littlest said she had never seen us laugh that hard. And he finally got up, wished me a happy anniversary, and apologized for forgetting.

I told him it was okay, since I had forgotten too, but that it was all going on my blog.

Happy memories shared with the family.

I would have loved chocolate, but this was pretty good too.

Next year, I’ll set an alarm.


PK Corey visits with an exciting new Cassie story!

PK Corey is visiting with her latest installment of one of my favorite characters- Cassie!  I love this series, and totally adore Cassie. And the excerpt PK shared today? Holy cow, I’m heading out to buy it as soon as I post this.  Here she is :)

Excerpt from Cassie’s Ordeal:
There was a nasty laugh then. “You want to know if Miss Cassie’s all right? She’s just great. You tell old money bags that I’ve really enjoyed my afternoon with her. But I’m afraid Miss Cassie’s tied up at the moment and can’t come to the phone.” And he hung up again. Ryan told us later he wanted to jerk the headphones off Tom. Ryan was nearly sick with dread, but the idea of what Tom was going through was destroying the boy.
They called back. “Sir, this can all be worked out. None of this is irreparable.
Is Mrs. Duff hurt? Does she need any medical attention?”
 That sickening laugh came again. “You tell Duff she’s just fine. He’ll get her back, maybe a finger one day, a hand the next. I don’t know,” He sneered. “She might be dead. It’s hard to tell with all that blood.”
Cassie’s Ordeal (book 7)
Cassie loves her life on the river with Tom and her friends. She feels Tom has her wrapped in a safe and protected cocoon of love.  But her world is jarred when the phone calls begin. Cassie hesitates to tell Tom about them knowing he’ll over react and she will be the one under ‘house arrest’. But when the calls go from annoying to frightening she has no choice. Tom brings in the police to find out who is behind the harassment and make plans to keep Cassie safe, but he’s too late – Cassie is gone without a trace.
The police began an all out search, but there are few clues to go on. Will life on the river ever be the same again?



Thanks for stopping by :)



#spanking, and fun 1950s facts from Cara Bristol

Cara Bristol is visiting me today, with her story from her brand new set, Correcting the Coeds, along with Celeste Jones, Sue Lyndon and Renee Rose. This whole set was awesome, and I loved it. Here’s my review :) And here’s Cara:



Thank you for having me today, Katherine!

When Celeste Jones approached me about writing a spanking romance set on a college campus in the 1950s, I didn’t know much about the decade other than what I’d gleaned from TV shows I Love Lucy, Happy Days, and Ozzie and Harriet. I wanted to make the setting and time period of my story, Educating his Bride in the Correcting the Coeds spanking romance collection, as authentic as possible. Once I got into the research I found the 1950s fascinating. You can think of my research like an iceberg: the details readers “see” in the story is only the tip of what I learned.

Here are few fun facts that didn’t make it into Educating His Bride:

  • Couples married at younger age in the 1950s than at any time in US History. In 1951, the median age of a first marriage for a man was 22.9 and for a woman, 20.4. Compare that to 2010 when it was 28.2 for men and 26.1 for women or 1890 at 26.1 for men and 22.0 for women. Getting married right out high school was very common in the 1950s.
  • Fewer women (by percentage) received bachelor degrees in the 1950s (24% of bachelor degrees went to women) than in the 1920s (35%).
  • Smoking was considered glamorous, and a lot more people smoked. In 1955, 56.9 % of men and 28.4% of women smoked. In 2010, that figure was 21.5% and 17.3%, respectively.
  • In 1950, the median price of a single family home was $10,050 (at 4% interest).
  • The average annual salary was $3,851 in 1955 and minimum wage was raised to $1 per hour from 75 cents.
  • The first color TV (RCA) came out in 1954. It cost $1,000. Adjusted for inflation, that would be like paying $8,873 today.
  • Playboy magazine debuted in 1953 with actress Marilyn Monroe as its first centerfold.
  • The term “sex symbol” came into usage in the 1950s, and the decade produced sexual icons Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, Brigitte Bardot, Raquel Welch, and Elvis “the Pelvis” Presley.
  • “The Pill” did not exist yet. The first oral contraceptive became available in the US in 1960.

Educating His Bride from Correcting the Coeds blurb

Never much interested in her studies, Margaret Atwater attends college hoping to graduate with an Mrs. degree instead of a bachelor’s. When she catches the eye of English Professor Henry Thurston, she’s thrilled to marry him, drop out of school, and begin a new life as a married woman and faculty wife. However, Henry is a kinky man who has much to teach his eager young bride—in, and out, of the bedroom. As Mrs. Henry Thurston, Margaret’s education has just begun.

An excerpt from Correcting the Coeds

In this scene, Margaret is being taken to task by her professor for not doing well on an assignment.

“Now, tell me why you believe I grade you harder than anybody else.”

She wet her lips. “Because you do.”

“My standards are no more exacting for you than they are for any other student. I expect excellence from each of you.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”

He flipped open a record book and ran his finger down a list. “As it stands now, your grade is a shaky C minus. If you don’t do well on the final next week, you run the risk of getting a D in the course.” He snapped the grade book closed. “We had a discussion after your last paper, did we not?”


“I believe I warned you what the consequences would be if you failed to get at least a B.” He opened his middle desk drawer.

Yes, they’d talked about—but he couldn’t be serious.

He withdrew a thick, heavy eighteen-inch measuring stick. “Lock the office door, please.”

Her feet obeyed, even as her mind rebelled. Will he really do this? Her hand shook as she twisted the key. She supposed she could have fled screaming down the corridor, except ladies did not run, let alone scream.

Henry closed the Venetian blinds and switched on a lamp.

She leaned against the stout wood of the door, her eyes riveted on the nasty ruler.

“Come forward, please.” He beckoned with a curl of his fingers. “Put your hands on the desk. Do not remove them until your punishment is over.”

“Henry, please,” she beseeched.

“Now, Margaret.” His expression implacable, he folded his arms. There would be no budging him.

Seeing him so, so stern did something funny to her insides. Made them quiver. It wasn’t all nerves, either. She shuffled forward to place her palms against the blotter. I can do this. How bad can it be? He won’t spank me hard. He only intends to scare me.

He moved the chair out of the way. “Fifteen spanks.”

Fifteen? She’d expected two or three at most. Hadn’t expected any if the truth be told.

She sensed movement and then the ruler struck her backside, blazing a line of fire, and she cried out.

“That’s one,” he said.

The only thing worse than being spanked would be the humiliation of discovery. She clamped her lips together and braced for the next strike.

Another pain-laden streak lanced through several layers of clothing. She couldn’t imagine the impact on bare skin.

“Two,” he said.

Thwack! The length of the ruler struck both cheeks at once, and her hands flew off the desk to protect her bottom.

“You know where your hands belong. Put them there unless you want extra strokes.”

She slapped her palms onto the desk.

“That was three,” he said.

A whoosh then the measuring stick seared the crease where buttocks met thigh and, despite her resolve to remain silent, a little cry escaped.

“I’m sorry I have to punish you, but you promised to do better. You made a commitment. That was four.”

Margaret sucked back the tears. “Maybe I didn’t break a promise. Maybe I’m not smart enough.”

“I don’t believe that about you for an instant. You didn’t do well because you didn’t apply yourself.”

He applied himself with another stroke that got Margaret dancing on tiptoes in an attempt to alleviate the burn.

 Buy Links:

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Author bio

Multi-published, Cara Bristol is the author of more than 20 erotic romance titles. She writes spanking romance, contemporary romance, paranormal, and science fiction romance. No matter what the subgenre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently lives in Missouri with her husband. She has two grown stepkids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling.

Cara Bristol web site/blog

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Meredith O’Reilly visits with her brand new M/M

Hey y’all, my friend Meredith O’Reilly just published her first M/M book. Here she is :)


Hi Katherine! Thank you so much for having me on your blog today!

Here’s a snippet from my latest release, His Captive’s Heart. In this snippet, Marcus wakes up from a loud thunderstorm only to find out that Dimitri is already awake.


I woke up sometime in the middle of the night. A bang of thunder sounded outside, and I realized that’s what must have woken me. Glancing around, I saw that Dimitri was nowhere to be found.

 Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep when it sounded like it was raining cats and dogs outside, I got out of bed.

 I snagged the pair of briefs that were on the ground, and once dressed, I padded out of the bedroom and down the hallway to where I saw the kitchen light was on.

 Dimitri was sitting in one of the chairs and I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face when I saw that he was drinking milk and eating chocolate chip cookies.

 “Did the thunderstorm wake you up too?” he asked.

 As I heard the wind howl, my eyes shot to the windows behind him as sheets of driving rain struck the panes. “No one could sleep through that. Besides, I can’t sleep when you’re not beside me, sir.”

 “Come here and have some,” he said, gesturing toward the cookies.

 I took the seat next to him as he got up and got me a glass of milk. When I took the glass, it was warm.

 “I’m not a fan of storms,” I said as another growl of thunder shook the apartment. I reached for one of the cookies and dunked it into the milk before I ate it.

 “Yes, I’ve never been too fond of them either,” he said taking a large sip of milk. I laughed when a milk mustache appeared on his face, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

 Together, we made quick work of the cookies and milk. Then I let out a yawn, ready to hit the sack again. As I stood, a flash of lightening filled the sky.

 “Are you coming back to bed?” I asked, when Dimitri made no move to get up.

 He looked outside and shook his head. “Maybe later.”

 I had to stop myself from saying ‘aww’. My big, strong dominant enjoyed warm milk and was afraid of storms.

 I held out my hand to him. “Come on. I think I know a thing or two we can do in the bedroom that should wear you out and have you focusing on something else besides the storm… sir.”

 He grinned, taking my hand. “Such a smart submissive you are.”

His Captive's Heart Cover

His Captive’s Heart Blurb


Twenty-nine-year-old lawyer Marcus Bradberry has fantasized for years about finding a firm-handed man who would not hesitate to provide both guidance and discipline while also bringing him the kind of fulfillment he’s only dreamed about. When he meets Dimitri Anderson, the owner of a local kink club, Marcus takes a chance and shares the wildest fantasy he’s ever had with him.

Though he confesses to Dimitri that nothing excites him more than the idea of a being overpowered, kidnapped, and mastered completely by a strong, handsome man, Marcus is nonetheless shocked when Dimitri takes it upon himself to bring this fantasy to life. When Dimitri surprises him after work on a Friday, Marcus soon finds himself blindfolded, handcuffed, and driven away to an unknown place.

It quickly becomes clear that Dimitri knows exactly what his captive sub needs and is more than ready to give it to him, but as the weekend progresses, Marcus realizes that trusting his new master is at times much harder than he expected. Will he surrender to his most secret desires or will his fears drive him away from his master’s loving arms?

Publisher’s Note: His Captive’s Heart is an erotic romance novel that contains spankings, sexual scenes, anal play, elements of BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.


Buy Links


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Author Bio

Meredith O’Reilly cannot believe that she has four books published! It was a little over a year ago, that she had her first book published with Stormy Night Publications. She began writing age play stories, but has since branched out to new sub-genres of romance.

In her spare time, Meredith goes to school, watches a little too much Netflix, and experiments with learning how to cook new things in the kitchen. Mostly she tries to balance her life between school work and author work. That’s a task that is easier said than done, most times.


Contact Links





Meredith’s Amazon Page

Meredith’s Blog


Little Samantha’s Choice, Meredith’s first book is along with three other amazing books from Stormy Night Publications on sale for 50% off! You don’t want to miss that deal!

Samantha Briggs always had a suspicion that her husband, Jackson was hiding something from her. When he’s away on a business trip, Samantha finds out her husband’s secret, he wants her to act as his little girl on the weekends. Deciding to give it a try, Samantha falls in love with being Jackson’s little girl. But when she slips up and embarrasses herself by behaving childishly during a stressful morning at work, she reconsiders their new relationship. Will she give up the lifestyle she’s grown to love so much, or can she come to accept that there is nothing wrong with choosing to be her daddy’s little girl?



Thanks for having me over again!