Do As The Doctor Orders!

December 22, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

do-as-the-doctor-orders

The doctor is in – and Lady Cassandra’s in trouble!

Lady Cassandra Martinbury has a big problem – her spendthrift father has bankrupted their earldom and left the two of them nearly penniless. The only way to save what is left of the family estate is for her to marry a man of means, but she draws the line at being forced to submit to the vicious Marquess of Radcliffe, her only suitor.

Feigning illness to avoid wedding Radcliffe, Cassandra comes under the care of Dr. Henry Sutherland, a Ruttingdon Club member and a specialist in the treatment of female hysteria. He can tell immediately that she is faking her symptoms, but the thought of a week with the beautiful woman at his private sanatorium is just too tempting to resist.

But Cassandra needs a decent, agreeable husband, not a week at a remote therapy spa, where there are few people at all to be found, let alone any unattached men of good breeding. Still, that is where she ends up, although she has no intention of remaining there. Her repeated escape attempts from the place find her over the handsome doctor’s knee three times before she realizes that the man to save her and her father might just be right in front of her!

You can read the first chapter for free here!

The book is now live on Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk and Blushing Books!

My favourite household chore – 31 days of writing prompts!

December 21, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

Ok, I’ll be honest here, there is no household chore that I like. I dislike all of them equally!

However, there is a task that when I eventually get around to doing it, makes me feel that I’ve accomplished something, and that’s hoovering the stairs.

I’ve got a lot of tile and laminate floors in my house, with only the stairs and one of the bedrooms having carpet so I don’t need to have the hoover out that often. However, I do have a very hairy cat that seems to think that shedding is an Olympic sport and a dark blue carpet that seems show every piece of fluff that lands on it.

Hoovering the stairs is a faff, especially because I have Henry Hoover. He’s very powerful and gets rid of Alfred the Great’s stray hairs, but the round body makes it a bugger to get up and down the stairs! There’s a lot of balancing and swearing, and it’s so loud that I can’t listen to music or a podcast while I’m doing the job. It only takes about ten minutes, realistically, but I dread it as if it takes an hour.

Yet, when I’ve finally done it, I can’t help but admire the lint-free, hairless blue carpet. I think it makes the house look a lot tidier when the stairs are hoovered. It gives me a real sense of achievement.

I just wish that it wasn’t me that had to do it!

henry-hoover-featured

Charitable – 31 days of writing prompts!

December 20, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

You’ve inherited £5 million, with instructions that you must give it all away — but you can choose any organizations you like to be the beneficiaries. Where does the money go?

Right now, I would have to give it all to help Syrian refugees. I can’t look at pictures of Aleppo and the terrified people there without feeling heartbroken for them, and slightly guilty that I’m living in such safety and comfort when they’re being killed by their own government.

I would have to research which charities would be the best to donate to, but I would have no problem giving them everything in one big chunk.

However, if the Syrian situation wasn’t as dire as it is, I would be tempted to give the money to individual people that need relatively small amounts of money to make their lives better; I’d sponsor medical care for those that need to fly to other countries, I’d pay to renovate people’s houses so that they can live in their homes with their families rather than have to move if they suddenly become immobile, or I’d pay for people to get specialist medical equipment that is just too expensive for them to normally get – realistic prosthetic limbs, or better electric wheelchairs. Usually these people need a few thousand pounds rather than hundreds of thousands, which means I could help so many people in a way that would make a real difference to their lives.

I’d haunt Go Fund Me pages and their equivalent to find small organisations that are trying to do something good, and fund them in full. I like to think about the look on the face of the organiser when they get the email to say that their target has been met. I would like to be able to help local people who need money for things like gravestones for loved ones that they can’t afford to buy themselves. I’d give money to food banks and toy collections that give presents to needy kids at Christmas. I would really like to support charities for homeless people in Cardiff.

I’d have to do it anonymously, though. I wouldn’t be comfortable with people being grateful to me.

charity-jar

December 19, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

Tell us about a sensation — a taste, a smell, a piece of music — that transports you back to childhood.

This is such an odd thing to realise, because it’s not like I can’t get citrus fruit year-round, but I always associate the smell of tangerines and clementines with Christmas.

When I was younger, there would be loads of these around at Christmas time. My brother doesn’t particularly care for fruit, so I would share them with my mother as we watched tv together. The slight spray as your fingernail breaks the skin coats your fingers, and if you’re careful, you can strip the entire fruit in one long strip of waxy, orange peel.

The taste is sweet and sharp at the same time, and they’re just so moreish – once you start eating them, you just can’t stop! Even though I can buy these all through the year, I always associate them with Christmas, even if I’m eating them in July. I can still picture the ceramic fruit bowl that would sit on the coffee table piled high with these little beauties, next to a bowl with nuts in their shells and a packet of sticky dates.

Now I buy these by the case in December, as I go through them like wildfire!

Book promotion – The Space Marshal’s Captive, by Jaye Peaches!

December 19, 2016 Louise Taylor 1 Comment

I’m really into my sci-fi, so this looks like a must-read!

Out now!

He’s going to pleasure her in ways that her darkest fantasies never touched.

Blurb:

After nineteen-year-old Jade Kryst is caught by space marshal Mason Hadley while trying to smuggle supplies to a rebel-held planet, she quickly discovers that her captor is not a man to be underestimated, and when she fails to cooperate with a thorough strip search she ends up with blushing cheeks and a sore bottom.

Though he does his best to remain professional, Mason is drawn to his beautiful, feisty captive, and he strikes a deal with her. If she will use her skills as a mechanic to keep his ship up and running while he hunts down the dangerous criminals he is pursuing, he will set her free once they are apprehended. Jade accepts his offer, but it doesn’t take long for Mason to realize that keeping her in line will require a firm hand frequently applied to her bare bottom, along with even more humiliating punishments when her continued disobedience makes it necessary.

Despite her status as his prisoner, Mason’s stern dominance leaves Jade burning with desire, and when she surrenders herself to his masterful lovemaking it is better than she ever dreamed. She soon finds herself falling deeply in love with the handsome space marshal, but will there be a place for her by his side after his mission is over?

Publisher’s Note: The Space Marshal’s Captive includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy link:

AMAZON

Excerpt 1

Mason stopped outside the medical bay. “In there, now.” He jabbed his thumb at the door.

Inside, he paced the room with his hands on his hips while Jade wrung her hands together. “So,” she said jovially. “I fucked up—”

“Shut it,” he said curtly. “I know what you did. I don’t need an explanation of why. I guess you feel some kind of loyalty toward your smuggling friends, so you decided to try to escape. Laudable, I get it.” He halted right in front her, staring down his long nose. She spied a small cut on his temple, glued closed and cleaned. He made no reference to his injury.

“I can’t give up—” she blurted.

“Yes, you can. You can give up endangering yourself, this ship, and me. You can give up thinking that you’re on a personal one-woman crusade to save a whole planet. You can start by thinking about consequences.” He spoke quietly, almost too quietly, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. An angry man should shout and curse, shouldn’t he? This one didn’t. What he articulated was blunt and to the point. Towering over her, he had the strength to overpower her and show his dominance in an aggressive way. Clearly, it wasn’t his style. He expected obedience.

Trapped, but unbound, the best course of action would be to relinquish her body to him and accept her fate. Jade rocked back on her heels and couldn’t think of anything to say.

The marshal stepped back and looked her up and down. “I’m authorized to punish escape attempts. I’m also authorized to punish anyone on board this ship who recklessly endangers the lives of others.” He tapped his foot on the floor, appraising her.

Jade instinctively clenched her buttocks at his sternness—such a voice he had when dishing out those words, it almost dazzled her. Her ass cheeks had stopped throbbing, the physical impact of the last spanking had faded. She guessed it wouldn’t be long before they were sore once again.

She cleared her throat. “I suppose you want me to strip.”

He nodded, unsmiling. “Yes. Then bend over the table.”

Excerpt 2

Mason sighed when he spied her tears on her cheekbones and wiped them away with his thumbs. “You’re not that old, are you? I guess you passed into womanhood recently?”

She nodded, hating her appearance—she wasn’t that young, she’d been a student for several years, but somehow, she’d held onto that girlish look, never quite grasping the maturity of a woman. It was misleading, because in her heart, and when she compared herself to her friends, she was years ahead of them in confidence and independence. Or so she thought, because Mason possessed a much greater authority on the subject of independence than her and he swiftly reminded her of that as he spoke.

“And here you are, on your own, navigating the wildest part of our galaxy. Speaking as someone older than you, I don’t think it’s wise, do you, being on your own and so inexperienced?”

She answered with a shake of her head. Wisdom came with age—she agreed with him on that point, but she really didn’t want his observation to be true.

“I’m going to take you to your ship.”

She lifted her head, her eyes widening with disbelief—he’d changed his mind!

“To collect your personal belongings for your stay in the cell,” he continued. “First, let’s get you dressed. We can pick up your clothes on the way.”

She slouched her shoulders, disappointed that she’d failed to dent his armor. He wasn’t going to let her go that easily. Jade said nothing and her muteness was an unfamiliar response. She’d temporarily lost the ability to answer him back. It seemed spanking her had had an impact on her demeanor. The realization somewhat surprised her. What else was Mason capable of doing to her?

Excerpt 3 (18+)

The kiss was long, hard, and exactly what she wanted from him. He drew her into an embrace and spread his fingers along her spine, feeling his way up and down her back. Her panties remained coiled around her ankles and she didn’t care that he had access to the wetness between her thighs. Her pussy had been drenched with adrenaline-soaked excitement the moment his breath had mingled with her own. The sensation was electrifying and irreversible. Her liquid nectar was there, ready to greet his entry, his full-on thrust—if that was what he really desired.

“Please, Mason, please,” she gasped, breathless.

“We’re not supposed to be compatible.”

“Let’s prove them wrong.” She rested her hands on his shoulders and squeezed.

“You don’t understand. On Ixzar, I would take you, force you to come many times, taking my pleasure. I need to control sex as much as I need control over this ship, my prisoners. You.”

She licked her lips, tasting him. “This isn’t going to be about just my pussy, is it? This fuck is something I’m never going to forget.”

“No, not by the time I’m finished.”

She spread a big grin across her face. “You’re very sure of yourself, sir.”

“I am.” He took her wrist and directed her hand down toward his pants where the obvious bulge tented the loose fabric. Beneath she felt the bold hardness—a scaffold of steel. It was upright, bursting for relief, and probably painful for him to contain.

“In your mouth, your pussy, and your ass,” he continued. “Here. Now. And you’ll obey me. Then, later, we can do it the slow way, the way of your people.”

She’d no point of comparison, only her own experiences, which had been energetic and brief. Jade swallowed hard, losing the smirk. “My people aren’t exactly gentle—”

He shook his head. “Jade, this isn’t going to be lovemaking. We’re not there yet. I don’t know if… I’ll try for you, try to be that kind of man.”

“I think you will. I believe you can. I know it here.” She pressed her other hand to his chest and through the shirt she discerned the drumming beats of his heart. “Here is where it counts, don’t you think?”

Excerpt 4 (18+)

“Rise up, sweetheart, and mount me.”

Sliding her legs on either side of his thighs, she hovered astride, angled her hips and lowered herself, seeking out his rounded glans, slotting it between her swollen lips. He felt thicker than ever or maybe she was tighter; either way, the fit was snug and the friction wonderful. Once her bottom touched his thighs, she paused, savoring the pinching sensation, then the give as she stretched to accommodate his girth. She jutted her breasts forward, arched her back, and rested her hands on his knees.

The sparkle in his eyes intensified as she bucked and rode his rod, frantically trying to avoid his cock hitting her sweet spot. She huffed while she fought the arousal and failed to crush it. Noisily, she moaned, probably too loudly. It was then that he started to roll her nipples between his fingers and thumbs, tweaking them until they hurt. She panted, tussling with the need to come and annoyed by his interference—couldn’t he see that she was struggling? He grasped her ass cheeks and hitched her up higher. She was in danger of losing contact with his cock. Alarmed, she grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.

Feeling his strength beneath her fingers was tantalizing. She started to pick at his shirt, hoping to expose his skin, touch it with her fingertips and enjoy the smoothness of his bare chest.

“Hands behind your back,” he ordered and reached into his shirt pocket. The restraining bands on her wrists snapped together, binding her. The ankle ones had gone—he’d removed them as a reward a few days after they first fucked. Now, she would have to rely on his support to keep her balance and rhythm.

Binding her didn’t dissuade the rising force of her impending orgasm; instead, it enhanced the fire coursing through her body. The electrifying epicenter was her clitoris.

Mustn’t come, mustn’t come. Keep moving, changing position, rhythm, anything to prevent the climax.

If she came, he’d spank her. She imagined herself across his lap on the commander’s chair, the seat of his power. The picture in her mind created a wave of goosebumps erupting across her flesh.

She came and the suddenness stunned her. She’d not even had a chance to plead with him. He would feel the orgasm along the full length of his buried shaft—a multitude of spasms, strong and conspicuous, accompanied by her stifled screech.

He flexed his hand—his intention was obvious.

Author Bio:

I’m an author of erotic D/s romances including Amazon bestsellers. All my books contain an element of BDSM, spankings or erotic games of sensual exploration. If you desire a little thrill, something to entice, then please take the time to read one of my books. Thank you!

When not writing, I’m busy spending time with her family, enjoying music, sometimes drawing and if the weather allows, gardening.

Author Links:

Goodreads Author Page

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Manic Readers

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Odd couple – 31 days of writing prompts

December 18, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

Does a messy home (or office) make you anxious and cranky, or is cleaning something you just do before company comes over?

I love it when my office is clean and streamlined- it makes me feel strangely professional and organised. As soon as I start to write, however, it looks like a bombsite!

I have piles of research notes at the side of me which somehow immediately become out of order, not helped by the fact that I knock them onto the floor almost immediately. If I don’t do that, Alfred the Great will helpfully take over that role.

My paragraph plans take up a lot of space, especially if I’ve been experimenting with their format and they’ve stretched across several A3 pages of paper that I’ve inexpertly sellotaped together.

I collect numerous plates, glasses and mugs around me as I don’t seem to be able to write without shovelling something into my face. I have a collection of Funko Pop dolls on my desk, which get moved around and re-positioned as I need them to hold Post-It notes that I scribble to myself. Hermione Granger has a nasty habit of falling forwards, so I have to have a wodge of white tack under her feet to keep her upright that gets spread across the desk.

I usually have a London A-Z propped open somewhere so that I can check on the name of streets, as well as a few books on nineteenth century male clothing. I have a Yankee Candle burning, usually, as the smell helps me write, somehow.

Oh, and at regular intervals, Alfred the Great leaps up onto the desk and positions himself between myself and the laptop, demanding a scratch. Alfred is a very hairy cat, so when I do give him a good scratch, many loose hairs are pulled from his coat and are deposited over me, the desk, the floor – everywhere.

I work in a terrible state, but there is something wonderfully cleansing about packing everything up at the end of a writing session, or even better, at the end of a book! Everything gets dusted and hoovered and filed away in special folders, the Funkos get put back in position and Alfred is banished from the room.

Ready for the next writing session!

Competition – 31 days of writing prompts!

December 17, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

What activity, task, or game most brings out your competitive streak?

Never challenge me to a board game. Or chess. Or cards. Or a trivia quiz. Or I Spy.

There’s just something about them that turns me into a raging maniac that MUST WIN AT ALL COSTS. I’m a horrible loser and even worse winner. Because I’m now a grown up, I can usually mask these terrible character flaws and pretend to be a functioning member of society, but Christmas is coming and I know that Boxing Day will bring about a no holds barred Harry Potter Special Edition Trivial Pursuit session with my brother that will only end in tears.

His tears.

For I will be the winner!

Comfort zone – 31 days of writing prompts!

December 16, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

What are you more comfortable with — routine and planning, or laissez-faire spontaneity?

Oh my word, my absolute nightmare would be a friend arriving on my doorstep one day and saying, “Want to go on an adventure?”

Although, yes, an adventure sounds fun, I’d need to know what kind of adventure we’re dealing with here. What sort of shoes do I need to wear? Shall I bring a coat? Does this adventure involve food in any way, because otherwise I’ll need to pack some sandwiches and a bag of crisps. Adventuring can be hungry work – just ask any Hobbit.

What time does the adventure start, and when do you anticipate it ending? I’m only asking because I have to feed the cat, or he gets a bit pointed as to where he chooses to sharpen his claws. Are we driving to the adventure? If so, who is doing the driving? I need to pre-plan my routes in advance, and, if possible, do a dry-run on finding the destination so I don’t get panicked when driving. Is there enough petrol in the car? Do I need to check the oil and water before starting out, or is the adventure local?

And so on, and so forth…

This applies to my writing style as well. I look in horror at Facebook posts by other authors who casually mention that they’ve got no idea about what’s going to happen in their stories and that they’re letting their characters determine the plot.

I peer out from behind my stack of research books, my hand-drawn family trees and my copious reams of chapter plans and boggle at those who don’t seem to worry that THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN IN THEIR OWN STORY. Yes, that’s right: they’re actively creating a world full of people and places and (in my particular fictional niche) inventive reasons why a person needs a spanking, and yet they don’t feel the need to think about what will occur in the end!

That just blows my mind – I have no idea how they can work like that! Obviously it’s not a problem for them, they’re all well respected writers in the genre, but…winging it?

Shudder. Not for me!

comfort-zone

Cover reveal of Do As The Doctor Orders!

December 15, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

do as the doctor orders.jpg

Hasn’t Blushing Books done a lovely job? It’s out on the 21st December, and you can read the first chapter for free here!

Lady Cassandra Martinbury has a big problem – her spendthrift father has bankrupted their earldom and left the two of them nearly penniless. The only way to save what is left of the family estate is for her to marry a man of means, but she draws the line at being forced to submit to the vicious Marquess of Radcliffe, her only suitor.

Feigning illness to avoid wedding Radcliffe, Cassandra comes under the care of Dr. Henry Sutherland, a Ruttingdon Club member and a specialist in the treatment of female hysteria. He can tell immediately that she is faking her symptoms, but the thought of a week with the beautiful woman at his private sanatorium is just too tempting to resist.

But Cassandra needs a decent, agreeable husband, not a week at a remote therapy spa, where there are few people at all to be found, let alone any unattached men of good breeding. Still, that is where she ends up, although she has no intention of remaining there. Her repeated escape attempts from the place find her over the handsome doctor’s knee three times before she realizes that the man to save her and her father might just be right in front of her!

Bedtime stories – 31 days of writing prompts!

December 15, 2016 Louise Taylor Leave a comment

What was your favorite book as a child? Did it influence the person you are now?

enormous

Now, to be completely honest, I can’t actually remember this book myself. This was, apparently, my favourite story when I was about three and my parents hated it. It was one of those stories that was all repetition: the farmer has grown an enormous turnip, but it’s so big that he can’t pull it up out of the ground. So, the farmer’s wife joins him, and they both pull, but they can’t budge it, so the farmer’s son joins them, and they pull, but they can’t move it, so the farmer’s daughter joins them….and so on down the line until I think a mouse helps them, maybe? Lots of farmyard animals get involved, anyway, until the damned turnip is uprooted. The cover, perhaps, gives away the most exciting moment in the story!

I would ask for this story all the time.I had that obsessive desire for it that little children seem to have for things – no other story would do. Despite the fact that I had a wide variety of Ladybird fairy tale books, this is the one I would hone in on, and as my parents were determined to foster a love of stories and books in me, they would give in and read it to me. However, my fervor for the story of the enormous root vegetable got so annoying for my poor parents that my father, no doubt in a moment of inspiration, asked me if I would like to learn to read the book myself, so I wouldn’t have to wait for him or my mother to read it to me.

Now, I’m not claiming that I was a child prodigy or anything, but because of that I was reading a lot earlier than other kids in my class, to the point that when I was five and joined infant school, they had to give me reading books for pupils several years older than me. That started me on a path that ended up in an English Literature degree. I read really widely as a child, and pretty much burned my way through the children’s section of our local library, which thinking about it now, was pretty limited. That’s why I read so many old fashioned books, I think – all the Travers Mary Poppins books, all the Oz books, the Swallows and Amazons series. I read the Just William books, the Biggles books, and the What Katy Did books because that was what the library had. There weren’t any young adult books then, as such.

My father got me an adult readers ticket from a clearly disapproving librarian, who tried to warn him that adult books might contain adult content. I still remember how my father’s eyes rolled at the warning, and how he told me, very simply, that if something in a book upset me, I should just shut the book and read something else.

That, I feel, is advice for life. If you don’t like something, fine, not a problem. Close the book, hit the back button, turn off the tv. You don’t have to clutch your pearls and start a crusade against it. The people that froth at the mouth about Harry Potter books, for example – you don’t like them? Fine! Don’t read them. Problem solved. Don’t try and get them banned from schools and libraries just because these made up stories seem to conflict with the made up stories that you think are important!

So, that’s how I met P G Wodehouse, Agatha Christie, George Orwell and so many other amazing writers. My love affair with Terry Pratchett started because of the adult library ticket. One of the funniest writers I’ve ever had the pleasure to read, Joe Keenan, was found in that library. I read historical non fiction and developed an interest in life centuries ago because those books were in the adult section.

I got an adult ticket because I’d mainlined the children’s section at a young age; I was an advanced reader because I had started young, before school started. I had started reading early because I was in love with a particular story that drove my parents crazy. Their desire to never read that damned turnip book again was what prompted them to try and get me reading much earlier than you would usually expect a child to read.

So all my love of the written word, including my higher education, my day job and my new career as an author, comes back to a fairy tale about an enormous turnip. Thank goodness they bought me that one, and not a different one. Who knows what would have happened?