#WIPitup Wednesday

Good morning! Today we’re happy to join up with the other WIPsters, with an announcement.

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Next week, the weekend of June 17th, my first historical BDSM book will be released by Stormy Nights Publications. Today, it is my pleasure to share with you a bit about this book.

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Meet my inspiration for Aaron, the stern, pioneer who takes his young bride in hand. (Copyright Rob Lang photography.)

 

Please keep in mind that this is still a work in progress, so the wording below and working title are subject to change.

 

 

~~~~~ And here’s an excerpt! Pearl is hanging laundry on a clothesline, when Aaron approaches her. 

Are you all right?” came his low drawl. I shook as he stepped in front of me and dipped his head. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

My eyes dropped to the clothing, and I swallowed hard as my fingers trembled on the damp cloth.

Yes, sir,” I said, not entirely sure it was true. Was I all right? My hands shook so badly, my petticoat slipped and he grasped it just before it hit the ground, his large hands smoothing the fabric over the line. His eyes met mine as he adjusted the clothing.

You had a scare,” he said, with a pause as his voice dipped lower. “And I punished you.”

At his words, my heart stuttered, a jolt of something almost like fear but not quite, causing my face to grow warm, and a deep, instinctive warmth to spread low in my belly. I met his gaze. He was not apologizing, and I knew with certainty not only did he not regret punishing me, he would do it again if he felt the situation warranted it.

Yes, sir,” I repeated, unsure of my voice. My mouth felt parched and my voice shaky. I wished I didn’t have to speak, but I was loathe to disrespect him with a lack of response. “I’m fine.”

Was I fine? I still felt so embarrassed I wished I could cover my face with my apron and run from him, but my feelings were conflicted. I remembered the touch of his hands on mine after he’d punished me, and my body longed to feel his touch again. What would it feel like if after he’d punished me, he’d gathered me in his arms? If my tears had dampened his shirt as he held me, pressed close to his chest, his whiskers up against my skin? I could not name my feelings. I had no reference to explain or begin to understand the wild torrent within me. Why did I feel shy and quiet and he, so much stronger? Why did my body long for his touch, and not the chaste touches he’d given me, but something more?

All these thoughts and more tied my tongue, and the words “I’m fine” hung between us as he stood opposite me, the damp clothes flapping in the wind, a distance between us, but the memory of being intimately strewn over his lap vivid. He crossed over to me then, pushing past the wet clothes, and to my shock, his hands spanned my waist and pulled me close to him. His arms encircled me, and one firm hand pressed my head against his chest. I sighed, and tears stung my eyes from the unexpected tenderness. Tentatively, I placed my hands around him, embracing him back as he held me. He smelled like smoke from the fire, a strong woodsy smell. I knew then he was no longer angry. Releasing me, he put one finger under my chin and lifted my face. His honey-colored eyes looked deeply into mine, unnapologetic and possessive. My breath hitched. He was so close. What would it feel like if his lips met mine? My entire body hummed with need.

You be careful,” he whispered, his finger still under my chin. “Will you be careful, Pearl?”

He asked as if taking care of myself was a favor to him.

Yes, sir,” I whispered. He released me then. My breath caught in my throat and my hands hung helplessly by my side, as if they couldn’t remember what to do. I faced the clothes line again, and my hands shook as I tried to finish hanging the clothes. One of Aaron’s large hands closed over mine.

I’ll finish this,” he said softly. “Go rest in the wagon before you’re needed again. This is the only time we’ll have to rest before we continue home. ”

Home.

Yes, sir,” I whispered, and I marveled at the softness of his voice and touch before I hurried to obey. And as I lay myself on the makeshift bed in the back of the wagon, I was left alone with my thoughts. Even though being punished was mortifying, and I felt more eager to obey him than I ever had, the mere thought of another chastisement terrifying – I couldn’t help but remember every vivid detail. His hands on mine. The way his eyes flashed, and the feel of being overpowered while turned over his knee. His sharp, scolding tone, and the sting of his palm on my backside. And as I played every detail over in my mind, I realized with surprise that even though much of what I felt was unclear to me, there was one thing I knew for sure.

Aaron made me feel no more a girl, and every bit a woman.

~~~~~

Watch this space for details on this release, including the final title and cover reveal coming soon!

Interested in others who are sharing their Works In Project (WIP) with us? Follow the links below!

 

 

 

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