02 January 2015

Have Paddle, Will Travel Release Day!

When a freak snow storm threatens to cut off the already remote community of Corbin’s Bend from the rest of the world, the residents scramble to get enough emergency supplies from neighboring towns before the mountain roads are closed. It’s sheer luck of the draw that force Ettie and Vance into the same car together. The only problem is, they can’t stand one another. She’s a submissive who hasn’t been spanked in four very long years (four years, seven months, thirteen days…not that she was counting). He’s the resident paddle and strap maker, a man known to answer the call of needy submissives everywhere. In his workshop at home, Vance has every implement he’d ever need to win a war like this. In a car in the middle of nowhere with the storm of the century bearing down upon them…who will win this particular battle was anybody’s guess.
I read this book at the perfect reading time for me.  I wasn’t sure what I was in the mood for, I was in a bit of a slump to be honest, but once I started this one, I just couldn’t stop reading it because it was so funny and great, I just couldn’t put it down.  It actually left me wanting to know more and more about Ettie and Vance because they had such great chemistry between the two of them, you could feel it off the pages.
I really feel as though Ettie’s character is one of my favorite female characters of all time.  She has a great personality and sense of humor that just didn’t stop.  There was just something about her that was so likeable and loveable, and you couldn’t help but connect with her.  Vance was just… there was something about him that I can’t put my finger on but he was great as well.  Between the two of them, they were both just amazing.
I thought that Ms. Smith also did a great job with the suspense and drama that was happening during the story.  I really had my worries about how it would all play out, but I thought that she did a great job with it.
I haven’t read anything by this author in the past, but I will be sure to look into other books by her in the future because I couldn’t get enough of this one!
Stealing another sip of coffee, Ettie opened up a new file and typed in her next headliner:

Tragic Accident Disfigures Local Resident.
While creating new chains with which to decorate his draconian home dungeon, local craftsman and owner/operator of W&C Leather and Chainmail—better known to some of the more desperate of Corbin’s Bend’s female residents as Have Paddle, Will Travel—Vance Foster fumbled his blowtorch and suffered a hideous disfigurement.
 “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” one neighbor is reported to have said.
His nipples are scheduled to be buried in Blodgett Cemetery at noon this coming Saturday. In lieu of flowers, please make donations to the Corbin’s Bend Nipple Rehabilitation Center.

That might be a little over the top, but Ettie could hardly be blamed. Vance Foster was a total man-slut. A horn dog. The absolute scourge on what was otherwise a very nice little spanking community.
Pushing her glasses up higher on her nose, her gaze drifted across the street again, pulled as if against her will toward the ripple of all those military trim muscles. Dark hair, gorgeous brown eyes. The man barely bothered to shave, as if he knew just how disgustingly well he rocked that scruffy facial-hair look. And if he did know, then that was just one more strike against him, because that right there was arrogance!
 “Oh, here we go,” she muttered, completely unimpressed. Trying to get a closer look, she got up from her computer, tripping over puppies and dragging all three by their teeth and her shoelaces as far as the window. He couldn’t possibly see her from this far away even if he should happen to glance her way, but Ettie still hid herself behind the floor-length curtains.
No longer working, Vance held his cellphone pressed to his ear while making notes in that little black book he carried in his front shirt pocket.
“Booty call,” she said, disgusted. Who was it this time? Not that it mattered to her which misguided woman in this community felt she had no other choice but to illicit that gigolo’s services. Have Paddle, Will Travel—ha! For all that everyone called him that behind his back, he ought to have a plaque advertising that service in his front yard.
She folded her arms across her chest, heartily offended on behalf of all his ‘clients’. Brent should have tossed the man out on his ear the very first time Vance handed out one of his ‘special’ visits. The leatherworking…okay, she could see a need for that. He made very nice—and by all accounts lethal—paddles and straps. The chainmail, she could even see that usefulness. More than one community member delved further into the kinkier realms of BDSM than she did, some preferring master and submissive relationships over that of domestic discipline. But that was okay, too. Different strokes (no pun intended) and all that. But still, a person would have to be blind not to see how offensive that was.
Spank-happy Cassanova. Blight of the neighborhood. One rung up from amoeba on the man-slut scale.
Not that she knew him well enough to make any moral judgments. He’d lived across the street from her for years now, and from the moment she’d found out what his hobbies entailed, she’d not said more than a handful of words to him in all that time. Most days, he worked in his garage. Most nights, he took his phone calls, right out in the open where anybody could spy on…er, watch him. And then he’d shoot his tight little ass out the door, hop in his spank mobile and head out to whatever booty craved his undivided attention. What kind of person did that?
Ettie folded her arms across her chest, frowning and trying hard to pretend as if her own bottom wasn’t tingling with the deeply ingrained need to suffer a little of that kind of attention. As if she’d ever let a man like Vance and one of his grungy garage-made paddles anywhere near her butt. What self-respecting woman would?
I have been writing since I was 12. Most of what I do is spanking romances, but I also dabble in paranormal, urban fantasy and dark fantasy. I have a variety of pen names with each name representing a specific genre of story: Penny Alley (paranormal/mainstream romances), Denise Hall (bdsm) and Darla Phelps (adult age play/pet play, a sub-genre of bdsm), and Maren Smith (spanking romances).
 Season 1:

  Season 2:


Post a Comment