Release Reboot ~ The Women of Heachley Hall by Rachel Walkley

The Women of Heachley Hall

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What reviewers are saying:

~ This book was an interesting marriage of women’s fiction, multi-generational history, paranormal experiences and even a little romance.

~ This book is intriguing and interesting paranormal romance.

Miriam has one year to uncover Heachley Hall's unimaginable past and a secret that only women can discover.

The life of a freelance illustrator will never rake in the millions so when twenty-eight year old Miriam discovers she’s the sole surviving heir to her great-aunt’s fortune, she can’t believe her luck. She dreams of selling her poky city flat and buying a studio.

But great fortune comes with an unbreakable contract. To earn her inheritance, Miriam must live a year and a day in the decaying Heachley Hall.

The fond memories of visiting the once grand Victorian mansion are all she has left of her parents and the million pound inheritance is enough of a temptation to encourage her to live there alone.

After all, a year’s not that long. So with the help of a local handyman, she begins to transform the house.

But the mystery remains. Why would loving Aunt Felicity do this to her?

Alone in the hall with her old life miles away, Miriam is desperate to discover the truth behind Felicity’s terms. Miriam believes the answer is hiding in her aunt’s last possession: a lost box. But delving into Felicity and Heachley’s long past is going to turn Miriam’s view of the world upside down.

Does she dare keep searching, and if she does, what if she finds something she wasn’t seeking?

Has something tragic happened at Heachley Hall?

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Excerpt

Heachley Woods

‘Charles.’ I called out, but he kept going. I slipped on my Wellingtons and bolted after him. ‘Charles, wait.’

He spun, snapped his back straight and tightened his grip on the axe at the same time. ‘Miriam. What’s wrong?’

I caught my breath; alarmed by his rigid stance. ‘Have you ever seen muntjac in the woods?’ I asked breathlessly.

He shifted his grip on the axe into a looser one. ‘No, I can’t say that I have, but they are shy creatures and unlikely to stray near to the house.’

‘I came out here, on Sunday, and heard noises, like footfalls. Bert thought they were caused by deer.’ I expected him to laugh and I was, in retrospect, embarrassed by the need to ring the pub for reassurance. ‘I was just, chatting with him,’ I added, lamely.

Charles merely cocked his head to one side and his eyes smiled, creasing at the corners. ‘All sorts inhabit the woods – badgers, foxes, rabbits – they are not quiet.’ He stared up at the branches, then back at me. ‘In the spring, a chorus of birds will sing from dawn to dusk. You’re quite safe, have no fear. Just watch the roots, they can send you flying.’ He kicked the exposed root by his boot.

‘The mist.’ I’d seen the way it had behaved, coiling its antennas about my legs, then chasing me out of the woods. How to explain that to him?

‘Yes?’

‘It felt alive.’

‘Feeling alive and being alive are different things.’ He reached out to a nearby tree and spread his fingers over the bark. ‘Does a tree feel this, my touch?’

I snorted. ‘Of course not. It doesn’t have a nervous system or brain.’

‘Yet, it is alive.’ He let his hand drop to his side.

‘Until you chop it down.’

‘Would it know – the sap, the bark, and the leaves – would they know they’d been cut off from the roots that sustain them? They have no feelings.’ There was an expression in his face that I couldn’t quite pin down. He’d lost the smile lines and gained something else – sadness?

I hugged my arms. The branches above us groaned and bent low as if to listen. His explanation re-enforced my apparent weakness: yet again, I had dipped into the art of personification and perhaps it was an artist’s natural trait, to give life to objects in the same way I would to a human being. ‘I imagined the mist is alive, nothing else. But, there are no unnatural happenings here in this wood. Is that what you’re saying?’

‘I’m saying you have the ability to imagine it is alive. The mist never knows if it is or isn’t.’ He gave me a crooked smile and took a couple of steps, before pointing up at the sky. ‘The light,’ he reminded.

‘Yes, sorry. I shouldn’t detain you.’

I didn’t see him again that day and consequently, I’d forgotten to pay him for chopping the wood.

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About the Author

Born in the Midlands, I grew up in East Anglia and am now firmly lodged in the North West of England. My first writing achievement was my Brownie badge and after that I've never let go of the dream of becoming of an author. Once a librarian and caretaker of books, I'm now a teller of tales and want to share with you the secrets that hide in the pages of my books.

Please stop by my website and find out more about my books in the making.

Release Reboot ~ Her Two Doms by Ashe Barker

Is she quite ready for their grown-up games?

Her Two Doms
A sexy, contemporary, menage Romance
by Ashe Barker

They’re not at school now. These are games for grown-ups, and Ellie’s not sure of the rules

They were her heroes, her golden boys. But the two men she’s loved since they were all at school together don’t even recognise her.

A chance encounter on a train threatens to destroy Ellie’s fragile dream. Reunited with the now Duke of Erskine and his best friend, international footballer Declan Stone, she lies yet again to protect herself. But this time she doesn’t get away with it.

They want her, they always did. And there was a time she would have done anything for them. But can the quiet, studious Ellie learn to play grown-up games with two rich and powerful men? Does she dare to? What will Her Two Doms demand of her, and does she want to be sucked into their world again?



“What do I need to do? Do I undress?”

“You can. Or you could just drop your trousers to your knees, pull down your underwear, and lean across the back of the couch. We’ll do the rest.”

I close my eyes, take a deep, steadying breath. This is it. It’s happening. Now.

I stand up and kick off my shoes, take another breath. Then another. Then, I reach for the button at the front of my trousers.

I’m glad the trousers are loose fitting because they slither down to my knees without any effort on my part. I look from Fraze to Declan and back again, seeking guidance.

“Kneel on the settee facing the back.” Declan assists me in getting onto the sofa. “Now lean forward and rest your elbows on the top.” He helps me to get into position. “Yes, that’s good. Lift your bottom up a bit more and your shoulders need to be lower. Can we just lift this up a bit…?” He takes the loose hem of my blouse which had been neatly tucked inside my trousers and is now flapping loose about my hips. He rolls the fabric up my back to just above my waist to keep it out of the way. “Perfect. So now, we just need to slide these down…”

His fingers are on the waistband of my best satin briefs. He waits until I nod my permission, then he peels them down to my knees as well.

I am exposed, my bottom bared for spanking. They have only to tilt their heads a fraction and they will see my disgracefully wet pussy lips, my swollen labia, the pinkness of my slit. If I shift just a little, spread my legs the tiniest bit, they would see my clit, too, and then they would be in no doubt about how hopelessly aroused I am by all of this.

The room is warm, but the draught of air wafting across my naked buttocks reminds me of my vulnerability. A shiver ripples through my body, and when they both take up positions behind me, it’s all I can do to remain in place.

“Such a lovely arse,” observes Declan, “so pale and creamy.”

“And curvy,” adds Fraze.

Is he saying I have a fat bottom? I clench my buttocks, beyond humiliated.

“Perfect,” Fraze clarifies, “fucking perfect.”

“Are you ready, Ellie?” Declan lays his warm palm on my left bottom cheek and squeezes gently. I nod, so he continues. “Fraze will start, with the flogger. When you’re warmed up a bit I’ll join in, with the crop. We’ll check with you often that you’re all right, but you just have to say ‘stop’ and it’s over. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I mutter. Now that I’m here I just want to get started. My imagination is all over the place. I need the reality of the spanking to ground me again. I need to know.

“Oh!” I let out a startled cry at the first feather-like stroke of the flogger. I’d clenched up, braced myself expecting something sharp, fierce. Instead I receive a soft whisper which dances across my backside, almost a caress. I glance back over my right shoulder, catch Fraze’s eye.

“So far so good?” He raises that expressive eyebrow again and waits for my answer.

“Yes. So far so good.”

I remain in place and sigh with each new stroke. I soon lose count. Fraze treats my buttocks and the backs of my thighs to the delicate shimmer of the flogger tendrils. They snake across my skin. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the intensity builds. I’m not sure if Fraze is adding weight to the strokes or if it’s just that my skin is more sensitive, but it starts to hurt. A little, but in a curiously good way. I writhe and shift as the heat builds and I lift up my bottom as though seeking more—I crave the sharpness of the strands colliding with my skin. I want him to hit me harder, faster. I let out a frustrated mewl when he pauses.

“My turn now.” Declan lays his hand on my bottom again, and this time I flinch. He chuckles. “Nicely warmed up. Now for the sizzle.

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USA Today Bestselling author Ashe Barker writes erotic romance and spanking romance in a variety of genres including contemporary, BDSM, paranormal, historical. ménage, gay romance and time travel. She is a #1 Amazon Bestseller and all her stories feature hot alpha males and sassy submissives, often with a lot to learn. Kink abounds, and there’s enough dirty talk to satisfy the most demanding smut lover. However dark and dirty the setting, love always emerges triumphant, and her stories never fail to deliver a satisfying happy ever after.



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Release Reboot ~ Sold To The Gladiators by Jaye Peaches

Two Gladiators: One owns her body. The other claims her heart.

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Bethan has served multiple masters since she was captured by a rival clan and sold to the Romans, but nothing could have prepared her for Felix and Rufus. After purchasing Bethan, the two handsome, battle-hardened former gladiators quickly make it clear that she will be shared between them, taken hard and often by them both, and punished sternly for any disobedience.

Having been told by a seer that he must claim a woman from among his own people in order to appease the goddess of fertility, Felix is delighted to stumble upon a girl as beautiful as Bethan, and he is determined to use her as thoroughly as needed to bring blessing on his new estate. Rufus, on the other hand, was never much of a believer in fate, but the moment he sets eyes on Bethan he wants her in his arms… and in his bed. Will she surrender willingly to her new owners’ dominance or spend her days with a bright-red, well-spanked bottom?

Publisher’s Note: Sold to the Gladiators includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

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Excerpt

Somebody was chasing her. She heard heavy footsteps and breathing.

She stumbled on a root and crashed onto the ground. He loomed over her, planting his boots on either side of her body, trapping her beneath him.

“Bethan!” Rufus exclaimed. “Why are you running away?” A beam of moonlight fell between two trees and lit up his face. He looked surprised more than angry.

She blinked. “I have to,” she said. What else could she say?

“We put our trust in you. We left you unfettered by chains. I… I trusted you. I convinced Felix to buy you. He thought you were a troublemaker, a thief.”

“I’ve not stolen anything,” she said quickly. “Your coins, nothing. I left with nothing.”

“But you are more than nothing, Bethan. You belong to Felix. You stole yourself away and you will have to be punished.” He moved to one side and bending over, grasped her wrist and drew her up.

“Please don’t. I won’t do it again,” she lied. How could she promise to stay when she needed to find Ceadda?

“I don’t believe you.” He held onto her wrist. “I want to believe you, Bethan. Why would you run away?”

“I’m a slave. I want to be free.” She wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t the real reason, and how much could she trust Rufus? Was he as kindly as he seemed?

He drew her closer to him. “You won’t be free until you have served the gods. Come with us and find out what you can achieve with their blessing. You will be honoured and treated with great respect. You might be a slave, but you are special. I know this. Even Felix is now convinced. We watched you come last night and it is a good omen.”

His warm breath bloomed over her face. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wanted his kisses and to feel his arms around her body. What he said excited her and filled her belly with butterflies.

He looped his hand around the back of her neck and angled her head higher. “Why did you run?” He had stunning eyes that caught the moonlight and the pupils reflected it like the mirror she’d seen in Atticus’s chamber.

“I’m ashamed,” she said. Hardly a lie given the way she responded to him.

Rufus laughed softly. “Oh, pretty one, there is no shame in what you can do with your beautiful body. It is why you are so important to us. To me.”

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About The Author

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 my family, sometimes drawing, cat watching and if good weather allows, which being England is never often enough, I’m pulling up the weeds in my garden.

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