20 September 2016

Presenting Snatched by Juliette Banks

I'm delighted today to be promoting the recently released dark tale Snatched, by the immensely talented Juliette Banks. Without further ado, let's go straight to the blurb:

Loss. Passion. Sacrifice.

It's the worst day of Laryssa's life when bandits snatch her beloved daughter Sofiya, carrying her away to places unknown. Vowing to save her, come what may, Laryssa sets off on a long and difficult journey to find the eighteen-year-old.

When she stumbles across a half ruined castle in the middle of a forest, she realizes she's found the very place where Sofiya is being held by four men. In desperation, Laryssa begs to be allowed to stay with them, to cook and clean, and even offers her body for use to the leader of the gang, a man called Bhodan. Not knowing who she really is, he grudgingly accepts.

Bhodan is a dark man with a troubled past. With livid scars marring his otherwise handsome features, he is gruff, ruthless, and cold. Somehow Laryssa, the woman he has employed to cook and clean for himself and his men, and to service him sexually whenever he desires it, manages to see past his harsh exterior. Her growing attraction to him is undeniable, and no one is more surprised than Bhodan himself to discover that he is beginning to reciprocate those feelings.

Sofiya is not the only girl to have been captured by the gang; Hanna, a girl close to her in age, was already being held when Sofiya arrived. Laryssa is desperate to rescue them both, but knows she must bide her time until the moment is right.

When the four men decide to leave the women alone to go thieving, Laryssa sees her chance. However, she is unprepared for the emotional dilemma she will face when only one of the men – Bhodan – returns. He is badly wounded, and she finds herself unable to leave him alone, as he will undoubtedly die.

Torn between the love of her daughter and the passion Bhodan has awakened in her, Laryssa faces a tough choice. Should she send Sofiya and Hanna back to their village alone to face their demons, or should she accompany them and risk losing what could well be her last chance of experiencing boundless passion and love after years spent alone? Can she forgive Bhodan for what he has done in the past, or will she decide that her daughter's happiness is more important than her own?

Publisher's Note: This tale, set in Eastern Europe in the mid 19th century, is one of passion, sacrifice and hope, in an age where poverty made life a daily struggle to survive. It contains some explicit sexual scenes, including spanking, as well as erotic horror themes. If such material is likely to offend you, please do not purchase this book.

NOTE:  This is a newly edited and greatly revised and expanded version of a book previously released under the same title.


She was fairly certain that as long as she kept them content with her cooking, and Bhodan content in his bed, the men would allow her to stay until she had worked out a way of getting them all safely away from this place.
That night, Bhodan came for her again, but did not repeat the rough treatment of their last coupling. This time, he paused at the kitchen door and watched her combing her long hair, which she normally put up into a bun during the day. The anger and aggression previously in his face and demeanor had gone.
"Come. I want you."
He wondered why, after just a short time, this woman was getting inside his head. Throughout most of his life, he had been careful to allow no one to penetrate the armor-plated exterior he had so carefully constructed. There had been many women over the years, and Laryssa was just one more. And yet, there was something about her, an indefinable 'something' that drew him to her. He liked her calmness, her bearing, her soft voice and, yes, her body, which responded so well to his touch, and which set his own body alight in ways he found unfamiliar and strange.
Laryssa followed him and, despite herself, couldn't help a shiver of expectation pass through her body, the traitorous body that had been reawakened after its long slumber. Why was this man able to make her feel truly alive for the first time in her life? Even though she felt anger about being beaten the previous day, she was ashamed to admit to herself that there was a small part of her that had found the experience exciting.
"Take off your clothes."
She did as she was told, feeling a tremble in her belly, not of fear, but of anticipation. "Turn around."
She turned slowly, and Bhodan walked towards her and ran his hand down her back, and over the bottom he had so harshly beaten the day before. He was checking to see whether she still bore the marks. The bruising had faded somewhat, and there was no permanent scarring. He was relieved.
He pulled her backwards so her back rested against his chest, and ran his hands over her breasts before moving one hand slowly and gently down over her belly and over the lips of her sex.
Laryssa took a sharp breath as his fingers began to explore her moist, hidden parts, swirling around her clitoris until she longed for him to enter her. This man, with just a touch, was able to light a fire within her that she had never experienced before.
He bit her earlobe, and when he spoke, his voice was husky with desire. "Such a sweet body. No wonder the other women drove you away. They must have been afraid that their husbands would push you up against a tree to gain access to this hot little cunt whenever their backs were turned." 
Want to know more about Juliette Banks? You can contact her at any of these places: 
Or her website: www.racheldevineauthor.com  

Thank you for inviting me to your blog, and I hope your readers will read and enjoy my book Snatched. ~ Juliette


Snatched is available on all usual ebook retail outlets, including Amazon, Blushing Books, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, and Apple. Get your copy today!

Happy reading,

~ Tabby x

17 September 2016

Book 7 of The Red Petticoat Saloon - Pearl's Possession by Lee Savino

Five husbands; one Possessed Pearl. 

When Pearl starts working as a gem at The Red Petticoat Saloon, she knows she's found the place where she belongs. After all, her husband cast her out for being too lusty of a wife. She quickly comes to enjoy her clients, especially her five constant regulars, so much so, that when one of her regulars proposes marriage, she declines. How can one man satisfy her? 

Things change when all five of her regulars come to her with a marriage proposal—live with them as a bride to five husbands. 

Can Pearl face her fear of marriage and allow herself to be claimed by not one man, but five?

Here's an excerpt...

Are you wet now?” Cash asked in a tone that warned me to tell the truth. 
“Yes,” I whispered, my cheeks staining with shame. Sitting in Cash’s lap, two men’s hands stroking up and down my legs, I was primed and ready for a long, hard fuck. 
“If I told you we were going to tie you up, and use you the way we did that first night, would that excite you?” 
My throat clogged before I could answer, but he added, “Be honest, Pearl, or I’ll turn you over my knee right now and spank you.” 
“Yes,” I croaked, and a ripple of excitement ran around the room. 
“Good girl.” 
My nipples hardened at the command in his voice. Through my thin shift, Cash could see evidence of my arousal, and nodded thoughtfully. Lifting my foot, Samson nipped at my ankle. My cunny grew slick with my juices. 
“We want you to say yes, Pearl.” 
“You’ll spend the night with us,” Cash said. He cupped my chin so he was sure of my attention. Of course, I would’ve agreed to anything at that point.
“We’ll have one last night to enjoy your body and give you pleasure. If you truly don’t want us, we’ll take you back.” His voice deepened. “Of course, we’ll know if you’re lying. And lying means you’ll be punished.”


If you enjoyed that, you can purchase the tale of Pearl and her five heroes on Amazon, Blushing Books, or Barnes & Noble

Happy reading!

~ Tabby x

11 September 2016

Book 6 of The Red Petticoat Saloon - Caring for Citrine by Alta Hensley

Book 6 in The Red Petticoat Saloon Series is brought to us by the lovely Alta Hensley...

Sickly. A whore. On her own.

That is how Della would describe herself, or did until she became a gem at The Red Petticoat Saloon. Still sickly, and still a whore, at least she wasn’t on her own any longer. She had become Citrine, one of Jewel’s gems, and she wore the name proudly.

It wasn’t until she became deathly ill that she realized just how much people truly cared about her. She had her friends at The Red Petticoat, and she soon had the care of the town doctor—Dr. Anson Norwood.

Dr. Norwood promises her that he will fix all that is wrong with his patient and treat her like the gem she truly is. But will the shadows of her past, as well as the ones of Anson Norwood, get in the way? Can she allow the good doctor to fully care for his Citrine?

Fancy a hot little snippet? Read on!

He pointed to her bed. “Bend over the bed, petticoat up, bare your behind.” His expression, his tone, his entire presence meant business. He was the disciplinarian sent to do a job. She’d known that the minute he led her upstairs.
“Gabriel, please. I will crawl in bed like a good girl. You don’t need to spank me.” It really was pointless trying to plead with him. All the gems knew that when Mr. Gabe had his mind set on something, no amount of pleading or arguing would get you out your predicament.
“You should have done that before. Now hurry along. It’s getting crowded downstairs, and I need to be there in case it gets rowdy.” When she didn’t move, he nodded toward the bed. “Come on, Della. You know you did this to yourself.”
Silently admitting defeat, she sighed and walked toward the bed. Staring at her floral quilt, she did as he asked, feeling the cool air against her bottom as she lowered her drawers and bent over the bed with her red petticoat flaring out around her. Her face heated with embarrassment. Gabriel had punished her before several times, and he had definitely seen her bare behind, but she still couldn’t help feel the shame of having to be thrashed like a naughty school child.
She cringed when she heard the swoosh of the leather strap being removed from his pants. Gabriel wasn’t one to go easy. When he was asked to deliver a punishment, it was always worse than if he decided to do it himself. Often enough, Della had heard the sound of leather striking naughty behinds of the gems and their cries, and she really did try her best to avoid such a wrath from Gabriel.
“Before I tan your backside, I want to make sure you understand why I am giving you this lickin’. Do you?”
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled against her mattress. “I was given strict instructions from Madame Jewel and Miss Nettie, and I didn’t follow them.”
The first lash of the leather cracked against her flesh without mercy. Della bit down against the pain and balled the petticoat into her fists to fight the urge to cry out. But when the second and then third whip of the leather made contact, she couldn’t hold back from crying out.
“Ow! Oh, I’m so sorry!” If there was ever a time to start coughing, it would be now. Maybe if she had another coughing spell, he would go lightly on her. But her cough had decided to betray her and remain deep within her chest.
“Stick out your bottom,” was his only response.
She did so and was only rewarded with another, and then another whip of the unforgiving leather. The spanking continued on as Della cried out. Tears ran down her face as her bottom heated to an inferno.
“Naughty gems get spanked. You know this, Citrine.” Gabriel only called her by her gem name ‘Citrine’ when she was on the floor or getting punished. All it took was him calling her Citrine in a warning voice to have her stop whatever she was doing right then and there. She loved Gabriel, but he was not one to disobey. The ass whoopin’ she was receiving this very moment reaffirmed that belief.


Caring for Citrine can be purchased at Amazon, Blushing Books, and Barnes & Noble for just $2.99. Hope you love the story as much as I did!

All best, 

~ Tabby x

9 September 2016

A Filthy Short Story by my own Mr. B.

A little while ago, I mentioned on Facebook that my Sir, Mr. B., had written a filthy short story - albeit in German, his native language. I wanted to know whether, if I translated it into English, anyone would want to read it. The response was a resounding, overwhelming yes. 

And so, here it is, in its entirety. I should warn you that Mr. B. is a dark, dark man (one of the many reasons why I adore him so much) - and so this story does contain possible triggers: humiliation, face slapping, and forced exhibitionism. But if you like dark sexy stories, read on and enjoy!

Happy reading,

~ Tabby x 

Going Underground

“STOP!” His barked order echoed loudly in the gloomy half-light of the underground garage.
She had just lifted her hand and was about to press the button on the remote to unlock her BMW, but stopped. Something in his tone of voice had caused her to obey immediately. His orders always had this effect on her, although she didn’t know why. In the beginning, not long after they had met, she had occasionally tried to resist him, but it hadn’t taken long before she’d stopped doing that. Not just because he was always quick to make her regret her disobedience, but also because she soon realized that she didn’t really want to.
“Turn around.”
Another curt order, and she felt the tingling between her legs. It wasn’t the first time that evening, for she had known that this was coming—in fact, she had been looking forward to it—but it was the first time since the end of the performance. They had been to the theater and watched an opera. She loved doing things like that with him. Even though he was a mechanic, he had a real feel for the finer things in life, and had seemed to enjoy letting the music wash over him while he controlled the vibrating egg he’d had her insert in the ladies’ room during the break after the second act.
She had assumed her orgasm during the crescendoing finale had signaled the end of the evening. The applause had led to a standing ovation, and she had hunkered down in her seat while she came hard, smiling inwardly at the sensation that the entire audience had risen to their feet to applaud her climax. But now it seemed as though he had something else planned for her, so she turned, slowly, to face him, still clutching her car keys.
“I want you to lift your skirt,” he said, and smiled at her. The smile could almost have been genuine, if it had reached his eyes. Instead, they held a hard glint which made her shiver. She knew him well enough by now to know that he was serious, he would not accept any disobedience, and that no matter what she did next, it had better involve lifting her skirt.
She let both hands fall to her sides, took the hem of her skirt, and lifted it slowly.
“Really? Here?” she asked, looking around. They were in the car park underneath the theatre, which was already almost completely empty. Once the opera had ended, they had enjoyed a glass of champagne at the bar, and so had avoided the post-performance exodus of attendees leaving. She had thought it a coincidence, but now she realized he had planned it that way.
The garage was empty enough that there wasn’t too much of a risk of being seen doing whatever it was he intended to do, but she had nothing to hide behind, and the smallest noise echoed loudly throughout the entire level. So there probably wouldn’t be any onlookers, but if there were, they would get the show of their lives—and it would be something completely different to the classy opera they had just enjoyed. What was about to happen would undoubtedly also be exciting, but a lot darker.
She lifted her skirt higher, suddenly becoming acutely aware of how exposed she was. Her mound was shaved bare, she wasn’t wearing any panties, and she wondered whether he could already tell. For what seemed like an eternity, he let her just stand there, in her expensive evening wear, the stockings, the high heels, and with her naked pussy on display.
“Throw the keys away,” he ordered her, and she looked at him, shocked.
“I can’t—” she began, but didn’t get any further.
“You can, and you will,” he said, and she knew he was right.
“Where to?” she asked.
“There, in the corner,” he replied, pointing to a wall about ten meters away from where she was standing. She glanced at him once more, but he merely nodded.
“And you will,” he repeated.
The keys made a loud noise when they hit the wall, and then a slightly softer one when they slid to the ground. But not soft enough, you can hear everything that goes on here, she thought. I’d better be quiet. And yet, even as she thought it, she knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Now come over here, but make sure I can see your cunt the entire time.” He lifted a hand in invitation and waved her over.
That small gesture had something so self-assured, so dominant about it that she couldn’t believe anyone in the world would have been able to resist. She certainly couldn’t. She never could. She started to move until she was standing directly in front of him. He caressed her cheek.
“Did you enjoy the opera?” he asked in a gentle voice.
“Yes, very much,” she whispered.
“You know that up there, we were in your world, right?”
She nodded. Yes, she knew it, and she also knew what was coming next.
“But now we’re in my world, and you also know what that means.” His voice was suddenly rough, far less gentle than it had been when they had been upstairs, where he’d passed her champagne to sip and opened doors for her.
She nodded again.
“Then I want you to take off your coat, your skirt and your blouse.”
She looked around again, but even as she did so, her hands dropped almost automatically to her sides and pulled the hem of her skirt down with them. Her pussy was now covered once more, but only briefly, as she quickly let the skirt drop to the ground and stepped out of it. Her coat was also easy to take off, despite the fact that she was removing the last possible protection from prying eyes. But as she reached for the buttons on her blouse, her fingers began to tremble and she started to panic, fumbling.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, in a mildly amused voice.
“No,” she said, and tried even more emphatically to get the first button through the hole.
She heard the slap even before she felt it, although her cheek began to burn almost immediately.
“You’re not to lie to me,” he said, pushing her hand away. “Here, I’ll help you.” With one single, strong tug, he ripped open her blouse to expose her black bra.
She had bought it that very morning, especially for him. It was one of those peephole bras which left the nipples exposed. He gave an appreciative whistle at the sight of it, before grabbing her hair and yanking her face towards him until it was mere inches away from his.
Not the other way around; he wouldn’t come to her, she had to come to him, she thought briefly.
“This evening is going to end in an extremely dirty way, and I mean that as figuratively as I mean it literally.” His tongue entered her mouth, and she accepted it gladly. He could do whatever he wanted with her, she would obey, the way she always did. The way she always would, for wasn’t that the reason why they were there? She couldn’t even remember the name of the opera—she thought it was something by Verdi—but this moment, in which she was helplessly and vulnerably exposed to him, was one she would never forget.
“Open my zipper and then pull my belt out of its loops,” he said, and she did as she was told. It was a lot easier than trying to undo her buttons had been. She was calm now, for she knew what was coming. First he would hurt her, and then he would take what was his.
She gave him the belt and took a step back, just as he had taught her. “And now?” she asked.
He pointed to one of the parking lots. “Go over there and get on all fours,” he said.
She did as she was told. The ground was covered in oil, and the smell of petrol was especially strong. It wasn’t a smell from her world; no designer had created it, and no woman would squirt it behind her ears to seduce her husband or lover—but that was exactly why she loved it. It was his smell; it was hard, metallic, honest. She was kneeling in oil, it smelled of petrol, and in a moment he would really, really hurt her, she knew that. For the briefest of seconds, everything inside her rebelled against his treatment of her, but then her pussy took over. You want this, it seemed to say, you need it, and you will get it. Can’t you feel how wet I am?
She wanted to ask him the same question. Did he know how wet she was? How much her body had been craving him over this past week? She had just drawn breath to ask him when she felt the belt slowly stroke over the naked skin of her ass. That was the signal; she would be receiving the first stroke within the next few seconds. He didn’t talk much while he was beating her, she knew that, and so they had developed a kind of nonverbal communication—one she could easily live with. Stroking the spot he was about the strike with the belt was just an example of that, so she tensed her body and he took that as his sign.
His first stroke landed perfectly across both her buttocks, and she sucked in a sharp breath. The echo in the car park was enormous, and it seemed as though the sound of leather striking her naked skin was amplified a thousand fold.
The second stroke landed on her left cheek, the third on her right, the fourth once again on her left, and soon he had found his rhythm. Over and over again his belt cracked against her bare skin, and it wasn’t long before her backside was burning hot. Her neck was relaxed, her head hanging down, making it easier for her to inhale the scent of oil, and even though she was arching her back, she was low enough to the ground for her nipples to be touching the cold concrete. During it all, she was acutely aware of the picture she would present to anyone who happened to come out of the elevator just a few meters away. A man in a suit, belting an almost naked woman who was kneeling in the dirt—and she never wanted it to end.
That was the thought she needed in order to surrender completely and she began to moan, more loudly with every stroke. She no longer cared how bad the echo was, she was no longer aware of anything except that combination of pleasure and pain. She no longer counted, she no longer thought… she just melted.
Not until he stopped belting her did she return to some semblance of consciousness. She heard him drop the belt, heard the metal buckle hit the hard, cold concrete with a clang.
“You know what’s coming next,” he said from behind her.
And of course he was right; she knew, she was looking forward to it. Her hands moved back to grasp her backside, spreading her cheeks for him, as far apart as she could. She wanted him deep inside her. Now.
“How exquisite,” he said mockingly, pretending to be an upper class gentleman, “what a dainty little asshole you’re presenting me with.”
She was unable to suppress her smile, and pushed back a little further, opening herself a little wider.
“It looks like you can hardly wait,” he said, and she heard him getting into position behind her.
The tip of his cock found the center of her ass and he slowly began to push his way inside.
By now her face was pressed to the ground, her cheek resting on the concrete, in all the oil and dirt, and she felt her asshole willingly expand to accommodate his girth as he pushed deeper, deeper. Then he began to move rhythmically, slowly at first, then faster. His left hand was gripping her hip while he buried his right in her hair, wrapping it around his fist. He pulled on it hard, using it to steady himself while he fucked her ass, harder and harder.
She put her palms on the ground and used them to support herself, pushing her hips back, trying to get him to go even deeper. She could feel the oil dripping from her cheek and could only imagine what she looked like; with smeared make-up, torn stockings, and smudges of dirt on her face. But all she wanted was more—even deeper, even harder, even dirtier.
She was his little whore, she knew that, and she would fulfill his every fantasy. She told him so. She told him how her pussy had been wet for him all evening. She begged him loudly to fuck her even harder, her ass was his ass, he should take it and destroy it if he so chose. She was his slut, his cunt, his fucktoy, and he should come deep inside her to show her to whom she belonged. She would always be his, and would do anything he asked her to. She moaned, she gasped, and she screamed. And she came. Oh, god, how she came. Shudders wracked her body, her eyes widened, she was aware of every single sensation. The smell of dirt, oil and petrol was everywhere, it filled her completely, and in that moment, she knew she had never smelled anything better.
Then he came, too, and she felt it. His hand tightened in her hair, he pushed his pelvis hard up against her, and his cock pulsed and spurted inside her. They came together, almost simultaneously, and suddenly she felt the hot liquid deep inside her ass even as he kept on thrusting and she spasmed around him.
She had done it, she had been a good girl again, and satisfied him. That was the only reason why she had gone there that evening. What a wonderful, what an amazing feeling it was. She collapsed to the ground and ruined what remained of her clothing, but she didn’t care. She had known he would take it—all of it. And that she would give it to him.
Still breathing heavily, he leaned over her back, his mouth close to her ear. “You’re mine,” he growled.
“I’m yours,” she replied with a smile.
A short while later, they were in the car, driving up the ramp. Once they reached the top, she was about to put the parking ticket in the slot to open the barrier when he opened his door and got out. “Where are you going?” she asked, but he merely gestured for her to wait and went to the booth.
He knocked at the window, and she saw the parking attendant jump—he had been engrossed in his newspaper.
“Oh, it’s you,” the attendant said, “have you finished?”
“Yes,” said her companion, “could I now please have the surveillance tape?” He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet.
“Of course,” the attendant said, “level one, lot eighty-one, right? Here you go.” He handed over a CD and received several banknotes in return. “Thanks,” he added, and went right back to his newspaper.
As they left the car park, she turned to him with a questioning look. He noticed her expression and smiled. “You didn’t really think I’d miss that opportunity, did you? I was here earlier today, at around lunchtime, and gave him instructions. You know how much I love to see you lying in the dirt.”
She was unable to stop herself from returning his grin. “Do you think he saw any of it?”

“Not only that,” he said, “I suspect he was making two recordings at the same time. Now take the next exit on the left. I have another small surprise for you.”

The End

7 September 2016

Book 5 of The Red Petticoat Saloon - His Sweet Amber by Sue Lyndon

Having known nothing but heartbreak and betrayal in Culpepper Cove, Callie Smith seeks refuge at The Red Petticoat Saloon. To the young widow’s utter shock, on her first night working upstairs, former love interest Pastor Lawrence Black bids an ungodly amount of money for an evening with her. After his dominant lovemaking leaves her breathless, he stuns her with a marriage proposal. But how can a soiled dove become a pastor’s wife? Despite her stubborn refusal, he insists she’s now his wife-in-truth and returns night after night, not allowing any other men to touch her.

As time goes on, Callie finds it increasingly difficult to ignore her growing feelings for the stern but kind, handsome widower who issues firm commands in the bedroom and doesn’t hesitate to spank her bare bottom when she disobeys. Truth is, she’d be proud to call Lawrence her husband, but surely her reputation would hinder his calling to become the town pastor. Will he succeed in convincing Callie she’s meant to be his wife?

His Sweet Amber is currently on sale for just $2.99 on Amazon, Blushing Books, Kobo and Barnes and Noble.

Here's a little teaser to whet your appetite...


The moment his tongue darted over her pink, gleaming parts, Callie jolted beneath him and her hands flew to his head. She gripped him and groaned, while moving her hips up and down, seeking her pleasure.
The naughty girl.
He pulled back from her center and gave her a stern look.
Her eyes went wide and she immediately returned her hands above her head, but it was too late. She’d disobeyed his instructions, and now he had to punish her for it. Of course, he would be lying if he said part of him hadn't hoped she would disobey.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
His cock hardened every time she called him sir. God, what a beauty she was. And so goddamn sweet. She didn’t belong here. After tonight, he would take her away. He would keep her in his cabin and they would return to town when the circuit judge passed through, when she could legally become his wife. He felt his nostrils flaring with the possession he felt for this sweet young woman.
He moved to sit on the side of the bed, patted his thigh, and gave her another stern look. “You disobeyed, Callie, and you will be punished for it. Over my lap.”
All the color drained from her face, and he realized that she hadn’t protested his use of her given name this time. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed.
“You’re going to spank me?”
“Yes. I told you to keep still, and I also told you to keep your hands out of the way, above your head. You were a naughty girl, and now I intend to redden your cute little bottom and teach you a lesson, Callie.”
When she placed herself across his thighs, she gasped as he forced her legs wide apart.
“I want a view of your wet folds as I’m spanking you, Callie. You’ll keep yourself spread just like this,” he said, shifting her bottom higher on his lap.
Arousal escaped down her thigh, and his excitement rose at the knowledge that she was enjoying this as much as him. She gave another needy moan. She was breathing hard and every few seconds a shudder jolted through her. He cupped her bottom and gave it a squeeze.
“You were a very bad girl, weren’t you, Callie?”
She released a harsh breath. “Y-yes, sir.”


Have fun!

~ Tabby x

5 September 2016

Book 4 of The Red Petticoat Saloon - Crystal's Calamity by Stevie MacFarlane

If you like your erotic romance interspersed with humour, you cannot afford to miss this one. Crystal is one of the wittiest heroines I've ever seen, at least in the romance genre, and the dialogue is brilliant.

Add to that plenty of internal and external conflict, combined with divine chemistry between Crystal and the hero, Jasper, and you have another wonderful addition to The Red Petticoat Saloon. Read on for a little teaser...

"Jasper implied you two had an ‘understanding'," Jewel continued. "I assumed he had a plan to whisk you away from this life of ill repute," she sighed, unable to stop the giggle that escaped.
The laughter spread around the table as the other girls joined in.
"Lord, I don't understand why some men feel the need to rescue us, when in fact we are living life exactly as we want," Opal sighed. "I don't think being at one man's beck and call is a step up, unless you love him, of course. Otherwise it's simply trading one form of servitude for another and at least we get to choose at The Red Petticoat."
"I agree completely," Crystal said, "which is why when he offered, I refused."
"You refused Jasper Montgomery?" Amy gasped, her mouth dropping open. "Do you have any idea how rich he is, not to mention that body," she continued, rapidly fanning herself with her napkin.
"I prefer to make my money the old-fashioned way," Crystal replied crisply.
Instantly the girls erupted in laughter.
"Well, you can't get any more old-fashioned than making it on your back," Dottie interjected with a snort.


Crystal's Calamity is on sale right now for just $2.99 on Amazon, Blushing Books and other outlets. 


~ Tabby x

2 September 2016

Book 3 of The Red Petticoat Saloon - His Little Lapis by Renee Rose

If you like sexy Western heroes, scorching spanking scenes and age-play, you won't want to miss the third book in The Red Petticoat Saloon series - His Little Lapis. Written by the amazingly prolific and talented Renee Rose, this story tells of a governess who has secret desires to find a stern Daddy of her own.

But don't take my word for it... why not read the following excerpt and decide for yourself whether you want to know what happens next!


“If you ever even think about doing something so foolish again, you won’t leave this house for a month, do you understand me?”

Her nose burned. She nodded quickly, dropping her eyes to hide the tears swimming there. 

“Take your clothes off.” His voice sounded heavy.

It made her guilt even worse. She reached behind her and untied the sash to her dress, then unfastened the buttons. 

Will arranged the chair with the back to the woodpile and sat in it, one ankle folded over his knee, the quirt resting on his lap. He watched her disrobe with an impassive face. 

A wave of dizziness rocked her on her feet. Oh—she was holding her breath. She forced it out as her petticoats fell to the floor on top of her dress. 
He didn’t say a word, just watched as she removed every stitch of clothing until she stood naked before him, shivering a little, although the air wasn’t particularly cool.

“Over my lap.” He patted his knees and set the quirt beside him propped against the chair.

“Yes, sir.” She swallowed and stepped up to him. She’d never felt so vulnerable naked—hadn’t known it was possible to be this humbled. A real spanking. This was different than all the play spankings she’d had at The Red Petticoat. Different, even, than that first whipping she’d goaded him into giving her. This was serious discipline and even though her body reacted with excitement, guilt and regret made her wish to never repeat this.

Will tugged her across his lap and pulled her snug against his torso with a strong arm around her waist. His hand clapped down before she expected it. 
She yelped and squeezed her cheeks together, then did her best to relax them again. 

“Toes turned in, bottom up.” 


Currently on sale for $2.99, this is a wonderful read even if you haven't yet read the other books set in Culpepper Cove. 

Happy reading,

~ Tabby x