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 2:
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