LATEST NEWS & UPDATE:

Alright cats, kids, and hockey fans!

It's the second newsletter of the week - which can only mean one thing (or two, I guess since there are two things I want to share with y'all) I'm coming in hot today with a new audio book release, and the first chapter teaser of Thor and Addison's story - Control - book 1 in my shiny, new, BDSM, Protocol series.

I know. I know.

I've done such a shitty job at marketing this book. Apollo and Edith just dominated my time, and Thor was being such a raging dick to me that I was convinced I'd have to move or cancel the preorder entirely that by the time I got him and the cover done, it was almost time to release. So I'm going to give y'all the first chapter, next week I'll give you chapter two, and I hope it'll be enough to entice you to give it a read.

Before anyone goes in blind, I'm going to share the content warning and the tropes included in this book so you can decide for yourself whether or not you'd like to dip your toes into Protocol.

Control: Content Warning

This book contains certain subjects that some readers may be sensitive to, including but not limited to: Mention of sexual assault in passing (not explicit). Missed safe word in a scene (on page). Child abandonment (on page). An MFM scene (Dom steps in to help out in a scene and touches the female main character with a toy but there is no peen-in-vag penetration during the scene).

As with every book with content warnings or potentially sensitive subjects, please be cautious when undertaking this story and take care of your mental health.

Control: Tropes

- Single dad

- One night stand

- Close proximity 

- Pleasure dom

- Sp@nking (Multiple scenes)

- Exh!bitionism

- Org@sm control

- Missed Safeword  

- Partner sharing/ethical non-monogamy (ENM)

(There is an MFM scene with another Dom but there is no p3netration.)

If this sounds like your jam... pre-order Control, now!

The second thing I wanted to bring to y'all's inboxes, is my second audio release.

Book two in the Minnesota Snow Pirates series, Two for Holding - Russell and Sabrina - are officially out in audio. If you'd like to have a listen, you can do so here:

US: www.amazon.com/dp/B0CFW1RKZL

UK: www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CFVYVGGF

CAN: www.amazon.ca/dp/B0CFW153RZ

AUS: www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0CFVXCZ3D

And don't forget, Two for Interference (ebook) is still currently F-R-E-E!!

Now for the Thor and Addison goodies...

Control

Chapter 1

Addison

Persistent as fuck.

If an intelligence agency had a file on me, I’m pretty sure that would be stamped across the cover.

“Bitch doesn’t quit” might be on there instead. I know what I want. At least when it comes to men. I’m not subtle about it. And I pursue it with all the determination and ambition of a cat chasing a laser pointer.

I will catch that red dot—even if I fall ass-over-tit and embarrass the shit out of myself in the process.

So when I spy the tall drink of lean muscled, blond, man-bun-ed, delicious-assed bartender I met last month at the kink club we took our bestie to for shits and giggles, I lock onto him like he’s the motherfucking dot.

In case it’s unclear, I’m most definitely the cat right now. A really horny cat. And I’m ready to pounce and climb this man like the lickable tree he is.

It’s been too long since my Love Box got any action.

Tonight’s definitely the night.

We had a moment when we met. He was working—making the most delicious virgin cocktails I’ve ever tasted in my entire life—and our gazes connected over the bar at Protocol, the local BDSM club.

It wasn’t some Disney fairytale shit. It wasn’t a “’til death do us part” loving gaze with rainbows and singing wildlife surrounding us in a haze of pastel colors. It was an “I wanna fuck you until you can’t sit comfortably for a week” kind of eye-fucking.

And it was Hot. As. Fuck.

So hot, that not even my arsenal of battery powered vagina weapons can cure this ache. Believe me, I’ve tried. Repeatedly. Daily, even. It’s just not going anywhere.

Lady V will not settle for anything less than Thor the Viking’s giant package delivering a screaming O. He has to be well hung, right? God wouldn’t do that to him. Or me. She couldn’t do that to me. Someone who looks like that can’t have an incy wincy teenie peenie. It would be a crime against humanity.

I don’t even know if Thor is his real name, but he’s every bit Thor of Asgard, Chris Hemsworth—the most delectable of the Hollywood Chris’s—and then some. Okay, so he’s more like Chris Hemsworth and Jason Momoa had a love child. Still delicious. Possibly moreso.

His dark-wash jeans hug his ass, and I wonder if the designer made them around his body. His bubble butt makes me want to bite into his tender skin and leave my calling card on his perky cheeks. He’s wearing a skin-tight, round-neck black t-shirt that shows the definition in his arms. And he probably smells like sex, tequila, and chocolate. Three of my favorite things.

Every time he lifts his glass, his muscles ripple. The very definition of arm porn. Dude works out. Probably multiple times daily, and if he wanted to pick me up and put me down for back to back sets of reps, I’d let him.

What can I say? I’m a giver.

Am I running a little hot because I got fired from my job today? Sure. Can’t say it was my favorite Friday ever. Fri-yay my ass.

Are my dreams of attending Paris Fashion Week circling the drain? Also yes.

Do I want to distract myself from the fact I have no savings, no prospects, and I’ve been block-listed from most of the fashion houses in my industry by mounting the metro-lumberjack sitting at the bar? So what if I do?

Clenching my thighs in a bid to calm the ache, I lick my lips. Because they’re dry, not because I want to lick him.

Obviously.

“You’re staring.” Paige, one of my two best friends, nudges me. “Scratch that, you’ve undressed him with your eyes, and you’re now screwing him on the bar in your brain.”

“He’s easy to stare at.” Shrugging, I pick up my drink and take a long, slow sip of the tangy margarita. The Tipsy Llama—one of our local haunts—does the best margaritas in Minnesota. Sure, they have pool tables, and dart boards, they have chess boards and decks of cards. And sure, none of us play any of those things, but we like margaritas.

“Do you think I could screw him on the bar and get away with it? I’m not averse to trying. For science.” I lick the salt off my lips before dragging my finger round the rim of my glass to collect some more.

“You’d have to leave an epic tip for the cleaning crew.” Kenzie—our resident Texan and expert on margaritas—smacks her lips as she drains the rest of her glass. “I’m going to get another round.”

I bound to my feet. “It’s my turn.”

Paige and Kenzie both raise their brows. “It’s Mackenzie’s turn.”

Kenzie nods, pointing her empty glass at Paige. “She’s right. It is.”

I haven’t told them I got fired today. Partially because I’m embarrassed. What thirty-two-year-old woman gets fired from the job of her dreams? I wince. Fuck.

Not good.

It wasn’t even my fault. They’d understand if I told them... wouldn’t they?

“What’s that?” Paige points at my face. “That look, what is that look?”

Kenzie’s brows pull together, and my super empathetic friend leans towards me. “What happened?” She holds her hand up, shaking her head. “Let me get drinks first.”

My skin is hot, a prickling feeling sneaking up the back of my neck. “I can get them, but could I use your card?”

I hate the words as they fall from my lips. I hate myself for being this person. I hate the bitter taste at the back of my throat. But I need to stretch what I have for as long as I can, because pretty soon I’m going to be homeless, destitute, and at best, living on one of their couches before the end of the month.

Bristling, I swallow hard. A small voice at the back of my brain tells me I could maybe, possibly call my mother. But I don’t believe she’d help. Not again. And the pain in my face from clenching my teeth says I’d rather spend the rest of my days in a cardboard box on the street than admit to her that I got fired from the job she and Daddy helped me get.

I’m tired of being the screw up in the family. They wouldn’t understand that it wasn’t even my fault because everything's my fault as far as they’re concerned. And I don’t need to hear how I should have just shut up and taken the handsy crap from my boss, in order to keep the job that opened doors for me.

Without another word, or sound, without a single ounce of judgment or pity in her eyes, Kenzie hands me her card, and I make my way to the bar. Standing where the stud can see me, I lean forward, flashing my brightest smile.

People tell me I have a nice smile. In fact, that’s not quite true. They tell me I have a pretty face. What they generally mean when they say that, is that I have a nice face—for a fat girl. It’s not a term I appreciate, I prefer curvy, or chunky, or I dunno, smart, funny, strong, capable, passionate—something about me that isn’t based on my appearance.

But my smile gets the attention of the bar man, and within seconds he’s making us another round of drinks.

Score one for the pretty faced fat girl.

Thor catches my eye, his brow twitches, almost imperceptibly. The closer I get to him, the hotter he looks. He tips his drink at me, and I smile back.

He has no clue that he’s going to be balls deep in my honey pot tonight.

The bartender offers to bring the drinks over, and when I reach out to hand him Kenzie’s card, he shakes his head. “They’re already taken care of.”

If I wasn’t already a redhead, the heat of Thor’s gaze on the side of my face is enough to turn my hair the color of fire. Assuming that’s who paid for our drinks, I thank the bartender, throw a more casual wink than I’m feeling at the Nordic giant, and head back to the girls who are watching me with amused interest.

Hopefully it looked like a wink and not an eye twitch. I wasn’t prepared for the scorch of his stare to fry my brain.

“You good?”

Nodding at Paige, I hand Kenzie’s card back to her. The bartender arrives, places our drinks on the table, doesn’t meet anyone’s stare and leaves as quickly as he arrived. Pretty sure if he bought our drinks he’d have at least given a flirty smile to one of us.

I’m avoiding eye contact with my friends while I sip on my drink. A million and one thoughts spiraling through my brain. Most notably, what the fuck I’m going to do now.

That, and how much longer I have to hang out with my friends before it’s considered acceptable to leave them and go screw the divine presence chillin’ like a villain on the high-backed stool. Even with his back to me, his presence takes up space, his intensity burns, and anticipation hangs heavy in the air around me. Last time I saw him at Protocol, he was on the other side of the bar.

Here... he isn’t, and I can ogle how well his shoulders and back fill out that shirt of his.

I’m just getting hotter and hotter the longer I sit staring into the green drink in front of me. “Who wants to play pool?” I need a distraction. Something to do that isn’t clawing at the skin of his well-defined shoulders.

Kenzie wags her finger at me. “Don’t think this gets you out of telling us what’s going on with you.”

It doesn’t matter that it’s something I suck so bad at that I lose every damn time, I need to busy my hands. And because they’re my ride-or-die friends, they indulge me.

As Paige racks the balls, Mackenzie grabs the cues. Their silence opens the door to sharing, but there’s a piece of me that still burns with embarrassment that at thirty-two-years-old I’ve lost my job.

“Why is it always the wrinkly old dude who gets away with whatever shit they pull? And the woman they damage has to pay the price for the fact they can’t keep it in their pants?”

Both of them stop what they’re doing, and pivot to face me.

Kenzie’s “What happened?” is almost lost under Paige’s “Who do we need to bury?” Her nostrils flare, her eyes are dark and shining with vengeance, and if she wasn’t on my side, there’d be a puddle of piss at my feet right now. Bitch is terrifying.

“I lost my job.” The weight of my admission forces my shoulders to slump. Dropping my head so I don’t have to see their rage morph to pity in front of my face, I sigh. It doesn’t feel better to have said it out loud.

Fuck. I hope they don’t think I was fired because I’m an idiot. Their silence pulls my head back up.

Paige crosses her arms, her scowl deepening as she awaits my explanation.

And because I’d rather they think I was a victim than incompetent, I fill in the blanks. “The head of the fashion house made a pass at me. And when I rejected him, twice, he doubled down and assaulted me.” The voice that comes out of my mouth is calm, clinical, sanitized, a far cry from the raging lava coursing through my veins.

The horror on my friend’s faces turns my stomach. It only grows when I tell them that I got fired, block-listed, and no one in the industry will take my call.

I’m nuclear.

I’m not even sure this is a “just hang tight for a while and things will calm down” level DEFCON. I think it might be the DEFCON-IEST of DEFCONS that ever DEFCONNED.

Maybe I should have just shut up and taken it.

When I tell them I messed up and signed a lease for an apartment I couldn’t really afford, they cringe. Then I tell them the person I was supposed to be sharing the place with has bailed on me leaving me holding the baby, and the contract, well, let’s just say they’re giving me the look my parents give me when they’re trying not to outwardly call me a screw up.

It takes an entire game of pool before my friends permit me to change the subject and talk about something that isn’t me and my dumpster fire mess of a life. I’ve been waiting for days to corner Kenz and get her to tell us everything about the delicious dominant with the pierced peen she’s been dating. She’s been evasive in text messages. Here and now, there’s no escape.

“So hold on a second.” Paige lines up the white ball on the pool table before striking it with her cue. The white strikes the tip of the triangle of colored balls, scattering them across the table. She spins to point an accusing finger at Kenzie. “You’re dating him now?” I don’t know how she hasn’t figured this out before now, but she’s finally on the same page as the rest of us.

Kenzie goes from creamy, clear skin, to red and blotchy cheeks and chest in a matter of seconds. “I… no. Yes. Maybe?”

“Oh. She’s dating him.” I snort. “There’s no way he gets her this befuddled if there wasn’t something there.” Picking up my drink, I raise it high. “And this is where I say, ‘called it.’” I totally called it. Austin, the tall, dark, handsome, hockey playing dominant isn’t being subtle about his long-term intentions for our sweet, southern belle, Kenzie. She’s seemingly so clueless that when it comes to flirting, he could walk up to her and smack her with it, and she’d still not see it.

“We haven’t even been on a date yet. You can’t claim ‘called it’ when you said ‘romance of the century.’ And don’t think I missed that use of befuddled.”

“Yet.” Paige picks up her drink and takes a long gulp as I line up my cue and take a shot. The ball sails past the pocket and bounces off the green velvet edge of the table. “And I’m with Adi, befuddled is a great word.”

Paige lines up her next shot. “So you’re thinking about dating?”

Mackenzie nods, her face still rosy.

“She’s thinking about more than dating. She’s thinking about the bow-chica-wow-wow that comes after the date. Am-I-right?” I don’t need to ask the question, I’m definitely right. I just like the way her face goes a brighter shade of red.

“He wants you to keep a journal, with sexy things and not sexy things in it, right?” Paige pockets the ball with ease.

Whereas I, on the other hand, miss yet another shot. “I hate how good you are at this game, Paige.” I turn my attention back to Kenzie. “Like what? What kind of things does he want you to journal? Does he read them? Or does he just get you to empty your brain out on paper?”

“He doesn’t expect to read my journaling, but I let him sometimes. It’s nice to write down my fears and worries, like writing them down takes them away from the noise in my mind, and I can set them aside.”

I’ve never been in a dynamic like that before, but I have kinks, and I’m open minded. And I most definitely love a man with a strong hand. On my ass. Maybe even with a paddle, or a crop, or... something. Mmmm. One of my exes was pretty good at the spanking thing.

Now I’m distracted by the idea of being bent over this pool table while Thor spanks me with a paddle, or his hand, or a crop, or a cane, the fucking pool cue, anything that leaves beautifully colored mottled bruises across the soft flesh of my ass. Fuck. I need to come.

“You mean your competitive streak hates how shit you are at this game. He wants her to record shit like edging, plugging, nutrition, that kind of thing. Dude probably saw the graveyard of Big Gulp cups in her office and figured she needed a glass of water from time to time.”

Kenzie is about eighty-three percent sweet tea. “Excuse you.”

“I’m not wrong.” Paige shrugs, leaning on the cue clutched between her hands.

“A good dom’s world is centered around his submissive. Knowing she is properly cared for starts with her caring for herself.”

She spins back to the table to take her turn. “If he doesn’t know you’re well hydrated and well nourished, how is he supposed to tie you up and make you his sexy slave for hours on end?”

Kenzie smacks Paige’s forearm. “Would you shut up?” Another thwap. “People might hear you!”

I can’t help the whoop sound that comes out of my mouth. Our girl is so vanilla that even the thought of him tying her up and making her come for hours is foreign to her. But I could totally see her leaning into it and giving it a shot. She’s nothing if not curious. I am so excited for her. This is going to be a steep learning curve, but I know in my bones that she’s going to love it.

“So what if they do?” Paige takes another shot, bagging yet another ball, and making me cuss under my breath. I hate losing. “The dude kissed you in the middle of the grocery store, Kenz. He talked through basic kink with you—and you didn’t run away.” She points her cue at Kenzie. “That means you’re in enough to give it a shot.”

Speaking of shots, I miss another one, which snaps something inside me. I stamp my foot before running my hand along the shiny wooden edge. “I feel like the table is uneven or something.”

“Here. Let me help you.” Thor’s voice is low and warm, with just the right amount of gravel to scrape across my skin leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Thor.” My body is alert. Hot and throbbing. Aching for his hands on me, and his dick inside me.

Down. Girl.

“I didn’t see you over there.” We both know I totally saw him there. I didn’t just see him here. My attempt at playing it cool isn’t working all that well. But thankfully for me, he’s got a smirk on his face that tells me he’s down to play my game.

“If you had, you probably wouldn’t have thrown that adorable little tantrum you just threw, so I’m okay with that. Can I help?” It’s cute that he’s playing along, calling me out for my bullshit yet offering to help teach me the error of my ways.

What a nice guy he is.

I fold my arms around the cue. “Depends what your idea of ‘help’ is. Are you going to mansplain?”

“I figured I’d do the stereotypical guy against your butt helping you aim thing. Skip the mansplaining and go straight to the man-doing.”

I definitely want to be done by Thor, so I purse my lips, squint my eye as though I’m giving it severe consideration before I nod. “I’ll allow it.”

“Your friend is right, you know, Kenzie.” He steps behind me, the heat from his body radiating into mine. The closer he steps toward me, the heavier the sexual tension ripples through the air, snapping and crackling like it could ignite at any time.

When his hands meet my hips, he presses with just enough force to bend me forward, pinning me in place with what I have no doubt is a raging boner in his pants. Leaning over my back, he places his hands over mine on the cool wooden cue. His large, warm hands engulf mine, and I’m trapped.

I’m surrounded by him. His breath tickles my ear, skimming across my skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. My eyes flutter closed for just a moment as I take in the measured way he’s breathing as I force myself to breathe in sync.

My heart skips faster, as he lets his weight settle over me.

I was right, Thor’s hammer isn’t a micro-hammer. Thank you God. I knew she wouldn’t let me down.

Wiggling my butt against his rod-hard dick, I bite back a groan, wishing we were in Protocol right now so no one would bat an eyelid if my jeans hit the deck, and he rammed his cock into me. Repeatedly.

“You’re making it really hard to remain a gentleman here, Adi.”

Giving him my best clueless impression, I look back at him over my shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I bet you don’t.” He takes a step back, and my body cries at his absence.

Raking his hands through his now loose, long, light brown hair is so sexy, but it makes me cringe. If I did that with my curls it would be game over. Fuzz city.

“Can I say something and you don’t hold it against me that I maybe, possibly, kinda sorta was eavesdropping on your hard-not-to-hear discussion?”

Rolling my eyes, I wave a hand for him to continue, since Kenzie is clearly praying for the ground to split open and swallow her whole.

“Okay, well, it sounds like Austin is invested in you as a person, and he’s trying to navigate your…” He’s struggling to find the right word.

“Vanillaness,” Paige is quick to provide.

“Exactly. It can be tricky for a dom with a vanilla partner. Educate but don’t terrify. Be honest, but not all at once so you don’t scare the bejesus out of them. It’s a fine balance. But ultimately, the power is all yours. You can submit to him as much or as little as you want. Hell, the way the man looked at you at the bar that night, I’d say he’d agree to no kink at all with you if you said so.”

He could read my favorite Chinese takeout menu, and I’d turn to a puddle of need on the floor. I bet even the words he’s saying are turned on by just existing inside his mouth.

“Please note the grammar police allowed ‘bejesus’ but flagged ‘befuddled.’” I shake my head.

Kenzie isn’t meeting anyone’s eyes, and she shifts her weight from foot to foot clearly uncomfortable as fuck, but Thor isn’t wrong so I don’t get in his face for making my girl feel feelings.

“Befuddled. Great word.” Thor holds out his fist for me to bump. When our knuckles collide, there’s a quick bite of pain but the energy skirts along my skin landing straight in my core. Direct hit.

“Right? That’s what I said.”

Kenzie holds up a hand. “Austin wasn’t looking at me in the bar.”

Thor scrunches his face up. “Oh. He wasn’t? Okay then. Let’s swim in this little space called denial.” He makes swimming motions with his arms.

I don’t know who’s fighting to hold back laughter more, Paige or me, but somehow neither of us breaks.

“Lady, I am an observer of every person in my bar. I see, I listen, I dole out advice… night after night. And that boy was staring. At you. Like it was Christmas morning and you were wrapped in a goddamn bow.” He steps up behind me, grinding on me again as he helps me line up the shot.

I’m impressed at his confidence. He hasn’t backed down, or run away scared. I’ve known more than my share of men who are intimidated by my no fucks given attitude. I guess the fact I turn into a puddle of goo every time I see him helps round off my edges a little.

“So what do I do?” Kenzie gnaws on her lip, her face still pink.

“Figure out what you want and go for it.” I score. Or whatever it’s called when you sink a ball into the hole, squealing with delight that I finally scored one. Dropping the cue on the table, I spin to face the hunk whose body heat is warming my spine.

The moment stretches out between us like Route 66 at golden hour, charged, shimmering and full of anticipation and promise. Smacking both of my palms on his face, I jerk him toward me, and lay one on him.

If you want more Thor and Adi... pre-order Control, now!

Until Next time,

Have you joined my reader group yet? If not, then head over to: Margaritas, Men and Mischief with Lasairiona. As the name suggests, it's a place for my readers to chat about all things romance - with a healthy dose of sarcasm, sharp wit, conversations comprised entirely of GIFs, sneak peeks, giveaways and a plethora of memes. It's one of my absolute favorite places on the internet and I'm really enjoying getting to know readers that bit better over there. Don't be shy - we don't bite... much! Come on over!

Justin

I thought I’d left my past in Minnesota when I moved to Iowa, but it was right there waiting for me.

Long blonde hair, curves in all the right places, and a death glare that hits harder than a slap shot to the solar plexus. On the ice, I’m a pro at blocking shots, but Savannah Bowen has slipped behind all my defenses and made a home in my heart.

I had no intention of revisiting the past, but when she’s damn near everywhere I go, I’m a goner.

Savannah

Hell freakin’ no.

It doesn’t matter that Justin Ashe is seven feet tall and sexy as sin, or that I’ve had a crush on him for years. He cheated on my best friend in high school, and that makes him off limits.

I can’t be with him, but damn, it’s impossible to stay away from him. Girl Code says uteruses before duderuses.

He’s supposed to be my enemy, but the more I see of him, the blurrier the lines get.

Welcome to UCR hockey, where fierce AF heroines and hot as puck heroes find their hockey ever afters. If you pucking love college hockey romance series, you’ll adore UCR Raccoons hockey.

FREEZING THE PUCK is a delicious slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, ovaries before brovaries sports romance. This interconnected full-length stand-alone is the first in a new series with no cheating or cliffhangers and has a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

Bookish. Bold. Beautiful. And entirely out of his league.

On paper, all-American boy next door, Lincoln Scott, has it all. But behind his slap shots, straight-A report card, and easy going charm, Linc hides a secret only his best friend knows.

When he attempts to return a misplaced bra, a wrong number gets him way more than the hook-up he bargained for. No one has ever looked beyond the star hockey player, until the mysterious woman he can’t stop texting sees him for who he really is.

Does Linc have the skills off the ice to keep up with her? Will he follow in his father’s footsteps? Or will he step out from the shadows and chase his dreams?

If you’re pucking obsessed with Helena Hunting, Pippa Grant, and Elle Kennedy, you’ll love this hilarious, hot-as-puck, secret identity, opposites attract, curvy girl sports romance. Two for Interference is a full length standalone with no cheating, cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

Welcome to the Minnesota Snow Pirates, where skilled and sexy mother puckers’ lives get turned upside down by strong and badass heroines. Curl up with your next book boyfriend today.