Confession time, friends. My name is Maisy, and I’m a book hoarder. I have the world’s most unwieldy TBR pile, a Kindle packed with awesome stuff I haven’t read yet, and every day I add MORE.
But this week, Jane told me I absolutely HAD to drop everything and read Dulcie Taylor’s latest, Fess Up, a collection of five funny, sweet, HOT short stories. So I did (because I always do what Jane tells me to do), and she was SO RIGHT (because she’s annoying like that)!
I knew from the first page that this was a winner. It has heart and emotion, and even though the stories are short, you can’t help but be connected to the characters in a powerful way!
Take this line from Snowball Effect, the first story in the collection: “Why, even after all these years, hadn’t I concluded that the ‘easy way’ was never easy and nearly always ended badly for me?”
Dulcie, get out of my head!
Here’s the blurb!
There’s a feeling in your gut. It’s wet-cement heavy. A bowling ball in the pit of your stomach heavy.
The kind of feeling that fills you with dread and haunts you until you confess. Some ladies know that feeling–they know it all too well–and the feeling that comes after it, too!
From a broken cell phone to lying to the police and all the cover-ups that follow–no matter how crafty these five woman are, their misdeeds will be revealed and the men that love them will teach them, it’s easier to just fess up!
Five bottom-warming tales to loosen even the tightest tongue.
Disclaimer: Fess Up contains stories of domestic discipline. Be advised that it is humorous yet contains adult spanking scenes.
And check out this other excerpt from Snowball Effect to see how Dulcie is able to combine heat, humor, and heart so perfectly!
As I watch the belt slide through the loops, a pressure builds in my chest and belly. He looks sad, disappointed and exasperated as he tosses it beside me on the bed. I feel my stomach drop in dread and foreboding because I know that the belt isn’t the worst, and I deserve more. I need to come clean about the cell. The cleansing effect of our lifestyle only works if I am honest about everything, and yet I still hesitate.
“Wait!” I stop him before he can do anything else.
“What?” he asks. He is annoyed by me trying to take control of the situation; I can see it in his eyes. He drops his head and waits for my reason – my excuse.
“I haven’t been completely honest,” I say. I get up and head to my dressing table to grab my hairbrush. I feel a welling of emotion that comes from knowing how much I need this and hating it anyway. An ocean full of salty tears threatens to burst past my lids. He reserves the wooden brush for serious things. It is not often I have felt the bite of its unforgiving smoothness, but I
know my lies and cover-ups have done damage to both his and Carly’s trust in me. My face must show my apprehension because when I sit back down on the bed, he takes my hands and looks up. I see some understanding beneath the rest of his battling emotions. He gathers a big breath and sighs.
“I know you haven’t told me everything.”
“You do?” My mind stumbles over this knowledge, and I feel unsure of myself. He nods.
“Then why haven’t you called me on it?”
“I hoped I wouldn’t have to.”
“Oh,” I say, and then my eyes narrow. “How do you know?”
“I’m a smart man. Don’t you remember telling me that just this morning?” He smiles with his eyes, but his mouth still stays in a line. I know we’re going to be okay, but the relief only makes me want to cry more.
ABOUT DULCIE TAYLOR:
I started creating stories as soon as I could write and even as a young aspiring novelist found that my heroes were frequently loving but dominant men that kept their feisty ladies in line. What luck that I found fans that enjoy reading about those sassy characters as much as I enjoy writing about them!
I live in a small Canadian town with my husband, two daughters, and the many characters that play in my head while I go about my day. It’s not unusual to spot me at the market with a faraway look and a smirk as one of those characters has most certainly gotten herself in a pickle!
When I’m not writing or working one of my two “day” jobs, I love taking my 80lbs labradoodle for long walks along the river, lazing in my hammock snuggled up with my girls, the dog, or just my Kindle. Or in colder winter months, skiing, skating, or more often, hibernating.