**Book 1, The Highlander's Little Lass**

When Bran lays eyes on Glynis, he knows she is exactly what he's been seeking: a woman who needs both the firm hand of a father figure and the lovemaking of a husband. With the help of her childhood nanny, Bran sets about training his feisty lass to be the obedient wife he needs.

Excerpt:

Bran was a dominant man, and longed for the company of a lass who could take a genuine skelping. He longed to stare down at a milky white bottom and churning thighs as he spanked the pale globes to a deep pink or red—not for fun, but for genuine correction. Then he longed to hold the faceless woman to his chest while she cried, to wipe her eyes and set her back on her feet with a pat on the head and warning not to cross him again.

He supposed this tendency was bred into him. His ma had once told him that he was born in charge. The oldest of twelve, he was the natural leader, and the rightful successor to the father who’d served as clan leader until his death seven winters earlier. As a lad, his siblings had looked to him with respect, and imbued him with the same authority they gave their parents.

But as he passed into adulthood, Bran became conscious that his dominance had become fused with his sexuality. It gratified him on a base level to dominate and spank his partners. He also felt a strong need to nurture, and his ascension to clan leader, at least, fulfilled that part of him. Clan was kin, and kin was clan. Caring for the some six hundred folk who looked to him was an enormous, but welcome, responsibility. It gave him a good feeling to look from the walls of his keep at the houses dotting the highlands, and know that all within were warm and fed by his management and protection, and at times his sacrifice.

Now he felt he was about to make the biggest, but most significant sacrifice of his adult life. Tensions between the McLeods and the McKinnons had been brewing for years. Now that they were at a fever pitch, not everyone agreed on just how the problems started. Some maintained it was a dispute over the ownership of McKinnon cattle that had crossed onto McLeod land. Others said it was the stolen virtue of a McLeod girl by a McKinnon lad. Either way, the hostilities had resulted in reaving of cattle and even kidnappings. Of late, armed conflicts had sprung up, something King Robert did not want. He’d called the heads of both clans together for a stern talking-to, and demanded a physical manifestation of the peace he expected to be made. Bran McKinnon would marry Kiernan McLeod’s daughter, uniting the clans, and he’d expect to hear no more of border clashes or cattle reavings.

As lairds and landowners, neither Bran McKinnon nor Kiernan McLeod were willing to risk the king’s wrath. As they stood on a windswept hillside by the king’s castle preparing to part ways, it was agreed that Bran would come to claim his betrothed in a fortnight. Now, as he approached Castle McLeod, he wondered what to expect from Kiernan McLeod’s daughter, the youngest of his six girls. He’d heard that she’d once been betrothed, but the marriage had not happened, and Bran—who cared not for such gossip—now found himself wishing he had listened more closely. He only knew that the man—a distant cousin —had ultimately refused to marry her in defiance of the laird. Bran frowned. What kind of defect cause such rebellion in a potential husband? Was she slow? Ugly? Sickly? Mad?

He put the worries from his mind as they crossed into McLeod land. No matter what he found in his betrothed, he’d not have the luxury of turning her down. What’s worse, if he were to maintain a good relationship with the McLeod—a relationship the king was insisting upon—he’d have to remain faithful, or at least give the appearance of fidelity. Laird McLeod was a pious man, and had been faithful to the wife who’d died in bearing the young woman he was about to marry. From what little gossip Bran had heard, Kiernan McLeod had warned the men who married his other daughters that to take a mistress would incur his wrath. For Laird McKinnon, keeping the peace may now mean putting an end to his reputation as Bran the Bull.

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**Book 2, The Marshal's Little Girl**

When a young woman shows up at his town's horse auction unescorted with a lot of cash, Gage Chandler instantly gets a bad feeling about her and quickly confirms she is up to no good. But when she gives him the slip and goes on the run it changes both of their lives forever.

Gage soon learns that his captive has a secret. Wilhelmina doesn't just want to be his woman, she wants to be his little girl. She needs his love, care, and a firm hand applied to her bare bottom when she is naughty. Though Gage is ready to oblige, the west is a harsh and dangerous place. Can he keep her safe, or will the shadow of her past prove impossible to escape?

Excerpt:

“Go to hell, Gage Chandler,” she said.

“Still got a mouth on you, I see,” he said, and pulled Billy over to the table as she stumbled, trying to keep her footing.

She cursed him as he bent her over. The button on the front of her pants popped and clattered to the floor as he ripped them open. Billy cried out in frustration as Gage jerked her trousers halfway down. He stared for a moment, his breathing raspy. Her toned, tight ass was as pert as ever. Gage raised his booted foot and stomped the fabric between her knees all the way to the floor, then bodily lifted her free from where the trousers puddled at her feet. He kicked the pants out of the way.

“Goddamn, lousy son-of-a-lice-ridden whore. Don’t you dare! Don’t you…”

The force of being pushed roughly back over the table silenced her words, and the next sound Billy made was a moan when Gage pushed her legs apart. She fought him, but Gage knew it wasn’t because she was protecting her virtue, but her pride. She didn’t want him to slide his fingers between her thighs and find the wetness that was practically pulsing from her pussy.

“Some things never change,” he said as he slid his fingers down her slit.

“Fuck you.”

Gage stood to his full height, drew back a calloused hand, and slapped her ass, hard. The pale skin bloomed with the imprint of his palm and she howled, the sound high and keening.

That was more like it, Gage thought. And he knew that despite the cries she emitted as he smacked her a second and third time that Billy wanted this, needed this. She needed him to punish and fuck her until her legs were wobbly and her tight little cunt was as sore as her spanked ass.

She was mewling from the pain of the spanking when he finally released his cock, pulling on its throbbing length for a moment before guiding the head to the slick folds of her pussy. Billy cried out and arched her back, and when she did Gage laughed low in his throat.

“Now that’s the Billy I know,” he said. “That’s my bad girl. You’re so hot, I can feel it without going in. I can smell how excited you are.” He grazed her engorged folds with the tip of his cock.

“Are you going to talk or fuck me?” she asked through gritted teeth.

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**Book 3, The Doctor's Little Ward**

After the death of her father, Abigail Barrow's only hope lies in a marriage to Dr. Simon Abbott, a man whose life her father once saved. But with no education and no dowry, she can hardly expect the esteemed doctor to agree to the match, especially when her sharp tongue earns her a trip over his knee for a humiliating bare-bottom spanking during their very first meeting.

Dr. Abbott has avoided marriage, knowing that what he seeks in a wife is not easy to find. Abigail’s response to his firm chastisement convinces him that she is just the woman he needs, but she will require training to be properly submissive, and thus before he makes her his bride he decides to bring her home as his ward.

His strict discipline is accompanied by gentle, loving care, and his intimate attentions awaken a powerful need within her. When she lies on the exam table, exposed, vulnerable, and blushing, Abigail cannot help aching for him to claim her. But can there be a permanent place for her in Simon’s life as both his wife and his little ward?

Excerpt:

She was only yards from her goal when she felt two strong arms catch her about the waist.

“No!” She cried, her legs flailing helplessly as Simon lifted her bodily from the floor and drew her into the parlor from which he’d just emerged.

“Put me down!” Abigail twisted and fought with all her might, but even her renewed vigor was no match for Simon’s strength as he pulled her into the parlor and shut the door with his foot. Planting her on the floor, he placed himself between her and the room’s only exit.

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing, child?” he asked.

“I’m not a child!” Abigail rounded on Simon. She was too angry to be scared as she faced the man who’d assumed guardianship over her without her consent. “You have no right to keep me here!”

“You are wrong,” he said with infuriating calm. “While you were dreaming in the nursery, I signed papers granting me full legal and custodial control over you.” He began advancing on Abigail, who backed away as he continued speaking calmly, his deep voice sending an unwelcome shiver through her core. “I not only have the right to keep you here, but the responsibility, since outside my door awaits a world of dangers. I would protect you from them, Abigail.”

Tears glittered in her eyes. She could tell from the look of resolve in this man’s grey eyes that he was not going to let her go.

“And what awaits me here?” she asked. “More beatings? The humiliation of… of…” She pulled at the front of her dress, looking down at it in disgust. “…of being demoted to the nursery? And then what comes after that? The threat of unwilling coupling with a depraved man who cannot function with a woman unless she’s dressed as a little girl?”

Simon took a step back and for a moment, Abigail felt a moment’s satisfaction. Words were her only weapons in a household presided over by this large, stern man.

“Silly girl,” he finally said, and Abigail noticed the absence of anger in his voice. “You’ll only be corrected when you disobey. I went to your old house today, and learned today of the sorry circumstances in which your father kept you. You were little more to him than a servant and a prisoner. That house was your childhood home, but did I find a single toy or book in your room? A single pretty dress? No. I found the slop jar you were forced to empty, the food you were forced to ration. I realized that not only did this man not give you a childhood, but he kept your mother from giving you one.

“Oh, Abigail, you rebel against something you don’t even realize you need—a chance to be a little one—a chance to go to bed at night on soft linens with no worries, a chance to be loved and coddled and protected and—if need be—corrected for your own good.

“One would think you’d embrace the care and attention of the nursery after being deprived a childhood.” He paused and took a step closer until he was looking down at her. “As for coupling with you, that will only come when you are begging me for it, and even then only if you’ve been a very, very good girl.”

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**Book 4, His Lordship's Little Bride**

Eighteen-year-old Lady Amelia Chesterfield’s willfulness has caused great consternation for her parents over the years, and they are taken aback by her refusal to marry a man of their choosing. The scandal which ensues as a result of Amelia’s wanton behavior seems certain to complete the ruin of her family’s reputation, and thus it comes as a shock to the entire household when Garrett Darmley, the heir to the richest estate in the region, makes his own offer of marriage to Amelia.

Garrett has long known that he needs a woman who can be not only his wife, but his little girl as well, and Amelia will fill that role perfectly. Her rebellious nature will afford him plenty of opportunities to bare her bottom and spank her soundly before taking her in his arms to comfort her, and if she persists in her defiance his young bride will soon discover that there are punishments which are far more painful and embarrassing than a mere spanking.

Excerpt:

“Ah, there you are, my boy!” Winston Darmley stood from where he’d been reading a newspaper. Rupert Holloway stepped forward to take the paper as father ushered son to his chair.

“I won’t mince words, Garrett,” he said. “I know you are in the confidences of our own trusted Mr. Holloway. And I know through him that your reticence to marry stems from your rather—shall we say—unique requirements in a potential wife. I also know that as a member of this family, you are likely aware that you are not alone in being outside the norm, and that it can be a very lonely thing to live and love under society’s expectations, rather than your own. I feel fortunate to have found in your mother a woman who knew that I was different. She recognized it because she is different, too. We both have appetites outside conventional bounds, and we have forged an arrangement that makes us both happy, even if what we present to the outside world is an illusion.” He paused here, obviously gauging Garrett’s reaction. When Garrett nodded for him to continue, the older man went on. “We would have the same happiness for you, Garrett, which is why Mr. Holloway here has been quietly pursuing information concerning a particular prominent family whose misfortune may be to your benefit.”

Garrett furrowed his brow. “Holloway?” he asked, glancing at the servant. “No offense, but what information would a prominent family give a member of serving staff— even a respected head of household?”

When the earl nodded toward his trusted servant, Holloway stepped forward.

"You’re quite correct, your lordship,” he said. “It would be unseemly of a member of the aristocracy to confide in a man of my occupation.” He smiled as he continued. “However, servants are wont to gossip—at least in houses with less order than this one—and I have received intelligence that Lady Amelia Chesterfield has become involved in a scandal so shocking that the breath of it could ruin her entire family.”

Upon hearing the name, Garrett scanned his memory until he recalled the girl he’d seen at a ball around Christmas a few years before—a girl with long dark hair, green eyes, and delicate features. It occurred to him now that she’d be well past age for being out in society, and yet he’d not seen her. There had to be a reason.

Holloway confirmed why. Amelia, he told Garrett, had proved incorrigible and headstrong, causing her parents to frequently send her to spend time with relatives. Upon her recent return home from London, she’d launched a new rebellion, this time against a favored union between her and Hamish Foxcroft. As Garrett listened to the sordid story of Amelia Chesterfield’s scandalous behavior, he had to admit feeling a bit of sympathy for her.

But in her zeal to escape an unsavory union, Amelia had decided to not only make herself unsuitable, but to risk her family’s reputation in the process. She’d bedded a randy young gardener named Royce in her parents’ own bed; when her mother and sisters happened upon the scene, their screams summoned several servants who also witnessed the indiscretion, and news of the scandal spread through the house like wildfire.

Lord and Lady Chesterfield were beside themselves. If news extended beyond the walls of their home, not only would Amelia be ruined, but her sisters by association. The prospect of caring for four spinster daughters did not sit well with their parents.

“So it’s common knowledge then?” Garrett asked.

“No,” his father interjected. “Not yet. A certain Chesterfield footman applying for a position here hoped to curry favor with Holloway by offering this bit of gossip. A bit of digging confirmed it, but our knowing it is enough. One word of confirmation and condemnation from this house would ruin theirs. The Chesterfields are titled, but their finances are strained. I have offered Lord Chesterfield something of a solution.”

Garrett already knew where his father was heading, and smiled.

“Yes,” the earl said. “If you will have Amelia, she will be betrothed to you. However, it is with the understanding that her behavior makes her unsuitable to assume most social responsibilities as Lady Darmley. She will be ‘lady’ in title only. Excuses will be made for why her public activities may be kept to a minimum.”

“In short,” Mr. Holloway said, “she will live by your leave. She will be yours to keep and to cherish and—if you wish—to train as you see fit. It will not matter that her upbringing will have prepared her for a conventional marriage. She will have no other recourse than to settle into one modeled after your desires.”

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**Book 5, The Officer's Little Rebel**

It’s a bittersweet homecoming for Major Royce Kingsley, who returns home to find his family’s reputation damaged by the actions of his brother. But Royce still has his estate, his fortune, and most importantly, his honor. So when a rare moment of indiscretion on his part ends in drunken seduction, he sets out to do the right thing and take the young woman as his wife.

Despite her best efforts, Imogen cannot resist her body’s response to Royce's dominance. The peace she soon feels as his little girl is unlike anything she has experienced, but can she trust her new papa to protect her when an old enemy plots to tear her from his arms forever?

Excerpt:

“This is not a matter of negotiation, young lady,” he said.

“I agree, Major Kingsley,” she said. “I decline your offer of marriage.”

He looked her up and down. “How old are you?”

She flushed at this. “Old enough for you to lay with, apparently.”

“How old are you?” He repeated the question, his tone harsher. Imogen noticed that the square jaw was set in resolve.

"I’m nineteen,” she said, “not that it matters. Why?”

“That is a marriageable age,” he said. “You can have no objection.”

“I can object to your offer if I so desire.” She raised herself to full height, realizing that her diminutive stature made her seem younger than she was, especially before such a tall imposing man. Now, as he stepped closer to her, it was all Imogen could do to hold her ground.

“My dear,” he said. “You would be able to object, if this were an offer. But it is not an offer. It is an order. I am an honorable man. I was raised never to disrespect or defile a woman. I will not start with you. I am taking you away from this place, and making you my wife.”

“And if I refuse?” She had to force the words out, her voice shaking. The room was small and Major Kingsley was blocking her path. Summoning her courage, she raised her gaze from the shiny buttons of his coat to his face. His eyes were a stormy gray, his lips full. She remembered the feeling of those lips pressed against hers, the feel of the stubbly jaw as it scraped her inner thigh before his tongue…

No. She’d let no man rule her.

And if I refuse?” she repeated, tilting her little chin up in defiance.

“Then I shall take you over my lap, raise your skirts, and strap your pretty bottom until you agree to do as you are told.”

“Strap my bottom?” Imogen was indignant. “Sir, it sounds as if it’s not a wife you want, but a child. I’ll be neither.”

Hitching her skirts up, she made to move past him, but she was stayed by the sudden grip of his hand on her arm.

“To the contrary,” he said, his deep voice low. “You’ll be both. I’ve been away to war too long. I am in need of a wife and am in no mood to suffer the politics necessary to get one. You are in need of someone to show you a father’s guidance and care.” He paused. “You can be both wife and child. And you will be.”

Imogen’s heart began to pound at his words. Something in them both frightened and exhilarated her. Major Kingsley had pulled her to his hard chest, and she could feel both the threat and promise of his power. Her mind flashed back to the previous night, when she’d lain beneath him, helpless to that power and to the pleasure she’d never expected.

No!

With a sudden burst of resolve, she shocked Royce— and herself—by leveling a strong kick to his shin. In his split second of surprise, Imogen was able to get around the looming soldier. But his sharp reflexes had him recovering quickly, and he was on Imogen before she reached the door.

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Coming June 21...

The Daddies are back and dirtier than ever in this brand new Dirty Daddies anthology!

Love comes in all shapes, sizes, and gender pairings and these 26 brand new, smoking hot daddies are here to prove it. No matter how you like your daddies — stern and sexy or sweet and cuddly — this anthology has a little something for everyone.

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